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-~ It Is Well to Remember That a Great
University Is Much Like a Tree.
By LYNN HAROLD HOUGH, President Northwestern University.
s * One of the most delightful poems of Joyce Kilmer
2 " runs thus:
“T think that T shall never sce
‘ ‘ A poem lovely as a tree. ;
/: A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed
Sl Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast -
\\6 A tree that looks to God all day,
Kok And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
: \ A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me, ¢
But only God can make a tree.” |
Long before this high-spirited American poet who so gallantly gave
his life in France had sung of the wonder of a tree, men had felt the
majesty and the mystery of the kings of the forest. The old Scandinavian
mythology had told of the great tree Ygdrasil, the tree of existence and
life and knowledge. The ultimate meaning of the universe was sought
in the life of a tree. The symbolism of the tree is always tempting. And
for our purpose just now it is well to remember that a great university
is a tree. It roots deeply in the past. It drinks eagerly the sunshine and
the rain of the present. It gathers into its life the full meaning of present
knowledge. It offers wonderfully friendly shade. And it bears constant
fruit, which it gives with noble freedom to the world. After all there
is a sense in which we can all have a share in the making of a tree. This
tree of knowledge which is our own university does not grow of itself. We
can swing its branches over wider areas. We can increase its productive
ness and its gifts of fruit to the republic and the lands beyond. What is
our share in the making of this tree?
How Electrifying of Railroads Would
Conserve Our Natural Resources. -
By E. W. RICE, JR., Pres’t American Institute Electrical Engineers.
T% is estimated that something like 150,000,000 tons of coal ‘were
consumed by the railroads in the year 1917. Now we know from the
result obtained, from such electrical operations of railroads as we already
have in this country, that it would be possible to save at least two-thirds
of this coal if electric-locomotives were substituted for the present steam
locomotives. On this basis, there would be a saving of over 100,000,000
tons of coal in one year.
It is really terrifying to realize that 25 per cent of the total amount
of coal which we are digging from the earth each year is burned to operate
our railroads, under such inefficient conditions that an average of at least
six pounds of coal is required per horse-power-hour of work performed.
The same amount of coal burned in a modern central power-station
would produce an equivalent of three times that amount of power in the
motors of an electric locomotive, even including all losses of generation
and transmission from the source of power to the locomotive.
Where water-power may be utilized all of the coal used for steam
locomotives can be saved.
Let the United States Commandeer Her
Young Men for Work on the Farms.
By C. GOUVERNEUR HOFFMAN.
'L The United States is now in danger of a real food shortage, which
conceivably might develop into actual famine. Then let the United States
commandeer her youth to produce food, and thus to conserve the resources
of her own people.
In other words, pass such legislation in Washington as shall authorize
the federal government to conscript the young men (say, all those between
the ages of 18 and 20), and distribute them centrally over the arable land
of the entire country, particularly in those great tracts of the middle West
and Southeast where the cultivation of essential food stuffs is promoted
on the widest and most intensive scale; have them selected solely as to
their physical fitness, without regard to class or sect or color, and fix their
wages (to be paid by their employers) strictly according to the principles
of army pay; make term of service six months, possibly a year, allowing
the plan as a whole to operate just so long as this extraordinary condition
of present market values continues to confront the public.
With a nation-wide menace, there must be nation-wide measures.
“Easy to Understand Why Pulpit Today
Possesses So Little Influence.”
By JOHN SPARGO, Socialist, in Christian Century.
Even the moral and spiritual probléems of the educated and enlight
ened man of today are largely beyond the grasp of the minister of the
church he attends. The ministerial training, environment, habits of life,
and, generally, temperament, unite to produce this result.
The minister does not know from experience—except in very rare
cases—anything of the problems which baffle and perplex the man of busi
ness, the public official, the professional man. Theological seminaries
cannot give this knowledge; it cannot be learned from books or other
wise acquired second-hand. It can only come from personal experience—
from life. Men who have not thus known the problems which beset men,
their temptations and their perplexities, can give very little help to others,
When we remember these; things it is ¢asy to understand why the
pulpit of today p?umm.mfluem
THE MARIETTA JOURNAL
*
Charity
4 By E. L. JAY
(Copyright.)
Mr. Lawrence Terhune is a student
of human nature. The frailties of the
people with whom he daily comes in
contact grieve him exceedingly; his
sole ambition in life is to correct by
means of drastic lessons, the errors in
their moral make-up, thus inculcating
honesty, faithfulness, and other vir
tues into various people who lack these
desirable attributes. Incidentally, he
rgakes a very comfortable living by it.
One afternoon he strolled into an
auction room where art objects from
the land of the Mikado were being
sold. A case of carved ivories attract
ed his attention, and he lingered near
It admiringly. He asked an attendant
if these things were sold privately, as
he would not think of bidding at & pub
lic sale.
A whispered consultation ensued, in
the course of which the auctioneer in
formed him that they might do so, if
the gentleman would pick out the
things he desired and make an offer
on them.
Said Mr. Terhune: “Really, I know
nothing of the value of these things:
but if you will allow me, I shall pick
out several things I fancy, and you will
place a label on each, Then, if you
will submit a list, with the price ot
each article, I shall send my agent, who
is an expert; and if he considers the
figures satisfactory, I shall be pleased
to send you a check.”
Theauctioneer gave a hasty glance
at the faultlessly dressed gentleman,
then winked long and elaborately at
a hideous bronze idol. He had had
experience with purchasing agents be
fore. It would certainly be a good
day’s business.
The selection began. First, the
fvories—cunning little men and women
In ridiculous postures; ‘grotesque
beasts and birds climbing over each
other; gods, arrayed in filigree that
looked like lace, a ball of tiny mon
keys, so intertwined and twisted that
it was almost impossible to count their
number. The daintiest and most
elaborate pieces in stock were care
fully selected and put aside.
Would the gentleman care to look at
some cloisonnes? The gentleman was
not very anxious, but as he had a
little time to spare, he would. The
auctioneer waxed eloquent over the
wonders he displayed—graceful vases
of iridescent hues; corpulent bowls of
a dove-gray color, over which prepos
terous reptiles disported and stuck out
their tongues; a gem of translucent
green enamel, sprinkled with cherry
blooms in softest pink and white.
A few ceramics? An exquisite dish
—SO dainty, one could count his
fingers through its porcelain walls—
covered with tiny figures outlined in
18-carat gold!
Royal Satsuma pottery, signed by
the artist, is pleasing, attrdactive, and
rare.
Some Moriarchi, studded with medal
lions iike little gems. An old tea-set,
so fragile that it seemed as if a breath
would destroy the fairy-dishes. A
bronze or two; and a mammoth teak
wood cabinet, whose carved heads
brooded in solemn blackness over the
treasures. .
J. Lawrence Terhune looked at his
watch and said:
“Really, T had no idea I had spent
so much time, Here is my card. Kind
ly favor me with a list as soon as
possible. Quote your lowest prices, as
I will do no bargaining. My agent will
call, examine, and report.”
The next morning the auctioneer
called at Mr. Terhune's office. He was
disappointed that he found nothing to
Indicate the business of his prospec
tive purchaser. He was ushered into
a room which has often been de
scribed as the handsomest private of
fice in New York, and his trained eye
unconsciously estimated the value of
the fixtures to be no less than five fig
ures.
“Ah, good morning! Have you your
list? Good! I'll refer it to my agent.
I hope you have remembered my re
quest to make the prices reasonable.
I will not be bothered with haggling.”
“Mr. Terhune, them prices quoted is
dirt cheap. Why, I takes my oath—
and I wouldn't mean it no more sacred-
Iy if T was to drop dead this minute—
that every quotation is as low as you
can get them anywhere, even if you
was ta import 'em yourself."”
- The auctioneer took his leave.
J. Lawrence Terhune chuckled, lit a
‘cigarette, and proceeded leisurely to
examine the list. Oné hundred and
eighty-seven separate items—surely he
%hnd not examined o many! A sum
total of $7,839. J. Lawrence Terhune
laughed softly carefully folded the doc
‘ument, and put it in his pocket,
A few days later a stoop-shouldered.
slovenly individual shambled into the
auctioneer's place, and handed over a
grimy card bearing Mr. Terhune's
name, asked to see the “chim-gracks”
mentioned in *“dis,” tapping a much
soiled piece of paper, which the auc
tioneer recognized as the list sub
mitted.
“I'm Meester Derhune’s achent—my
rame’s Gerstensang,” he volunteered,
He went to work in a very businesslike
way, with a magnifying-glass and a
long needle, looking for cracks in the
ivory.
The auctioneer watched him anx
fously.
| “Fine stuff that?” he said at last,
“Ummhmm!” murmured Mr. Ger-
stensang, comparing the number on the
ornament with the price on the list.
The auctioneer watched him make a
mysterious hieroglyph after the num
ber. “Pretty cheap?”
‘Ummhmm! I s’pect so. ' You
sharge only twice about vat dey
vos vort’.” : .
- “Whatcher talkin’ about?” blustered
| the auctioneer. “Mr. Terhune’ll never
- get another chance to get these things
~as cheap as that!”
- “No?" The inflection in the agent’s
voice was a battery of questions.
“No! And you know it.”
“I yet don’ know it.” Mr. Gersten
sang's voice was remarkable, in that it
' suggested so much more* than the
words conveyed. i
“Well, it’s worth $5O for you to find
it out.”
*Don’ bodder me! I'm bizzy.”
“A hundred, then.”
“Say! Dis one—you got it marked
for three hundert dollars—vouldn’t be
vort’ dat if it was from von plece
made; and it is from more dan four,
and two are pone and not ivory,” said
the agent irrelevantly.
“Two hundred,” replied the auction
eer, equally irrelevantly.
“Say! Vat you mean? Are you dry
ing to pribe me? The look of vir
tuous indignation almost convinced
the auctioneer that he had made a
mistake,
“No, no!” he hastily assured the
man, who gazed at him in a disconcert
ing manner. “But, you see, I thought
you might make a mistake, and 1
wanted to give you a little token of
my esteem.,” It sounded ridiculous,
and the auctioneer shifted uneasily
as he anathematized the eyes that
seemed to bore holes through him.
5 'Oh 1. So to You—my esteem two
hundert dollars is vort’?”
The auctioneer had the grace to turn
red.
“For two hundert dollars, T should
pass on a lot dat for more dan twice*
vat it is vort’ has der prices down
marked? Vat said der goon song? ‘1
don’ like no sheep man,’” and he |
leered cunningly at the auctioneer.
“Well! What's it worth? ; |
“Oh! Of the bill, ten per cent is
der usual amount, but ve vill say seven |
hundert and fifty dollars in circular
figures, |
There was a little more conversa
tion, |
“All right. When 1 get Mr. Ter
hune’s chéck I'll give you mine.” |
“Vill you?’ said the agent. “No,:
you villn’t. I got no use for snecks;
also, I do strictly gash bizness. . Now |
der money, and Meester Derhune gets
a rebort; now no money, and he gets a
rebort. Eider vay is von.” |
The auctioneer demurred to some}
extent, and then went to the safe and
produced some bills. |
“Seven hundred is all I got.” |
Gerstensang counted them carefully, 1
“All ride. You want a recivet?’ he |
inquired. “No? Ach! I vill make a
rebort to Meester Derhune dat vil”
bring tears to your eyes”—and he de
parted. I
The auctioneer waited a week, and
then went to see Mr. Terhune. That
gentleman was busily engaged with
certain papers, and hardly heeded the
other’s oily salutations.
“Well, sir! What can I do for you?”
“Did you get your agent's report?”’
“T did.” The words were ominous
in their brevity,
The auctioneer fidgeted and stam
mered. “I have been expectin’ to hear
from you.”
“Have you? Well, you need wait no
longer.” He handed the auctioneer a
well-remembered piece of paper. There
was the list of 287 separate items—a
sum total of s7,B39—and underneath,
in a cramped German hand:
“I beg to report that the articles {s
all for more than their value quoted ;
they are bogus most of them.
“Gerstensang.”
The auctioneer grew livid.
“Why, what in h— did he mean?
He told me he'd make a satisfact'ry
report.”
“Did he?” inquired Mr. Terhune,
“Why "
“Where is your d— agent?”
“My man, you forget yourself! I
shall have to bid you good morn
ing.”
Mr. Terhune turned to the papers
on his desk.
“He’s a cheat, a robber, a thief, a
swindler!” screamed the auctioneer
with vehemence.
“My dear sir, are you crazy? I have
known Gerstensang all my life, and
would rely absolutely on any report he
should make.”
The auctioneer gazed at Mr. Ter
hune, and his ruddy face paled. Again
he met a pair of eyes that seemed: to
beat his glances to the earth and read
him through to his brazen, sordid, de
ceitful soul.
“Why—l don't believe—" he stam
mered. “There never was no— You're
Gerstensang himself!” he shrieked,
fairly dancing up and down in impo
tent rage.
Mr. Terhune sprang from his chair,
“Do not compel me to have you
ejected. Go!l”
The auctioneer had no alternative,
He went. There were tears in his
eyes.
J. Lawrence Terhune sank back in
his chair and smiled as he gazed
thoughtfully at his bank pass-book,
wherein was the following entry :
B 8l il e 0
Imagined Note Had Sight.
Writing is very puzzling to savages.
In South America, on one occasion, a
native was sent by a missionary to a
friend with a note and four loaves of
bread. The native ate one on the
way, and was amazed to find that the
note discovered his theft. On the next
occasion that he was sent with four
loaves he sat on the note while eating
one of them.
The song of birds is all about,
Not gay, but just contented;
The air is laden with the sweets
Of roses fragrant-scented.
SUMMER LUNCHEONS.
Myrtle Reed says: “Judging by the
various books on the subject of lunch
eons people do not eat
‘ R[]l at noon unless they have
T, company,” This is prob
~ ably the rule, especially
) among women in fami
? lies where the man of
. the house takes his
luncheon downtown. The
housewife, even if entire
ly alone, should have
something hot and take it sitting
down. People who do not take time
to eat and sleep presently are obliged
to take time to die. People who, from
false notions of economy, live upon
improper food, are shortly put to the
greater expense of a funeral. It is
better to spend money on fruits, vege
tables, milk and eggs than wupon
wreaths and gates ajar. The one
who leads the procession, with his
friends riding behind him, might bet
ter have postponed this particular en
tertainment for a few years, and in
most cases it could be done by taking
mofe time to live while engaged in the
business of living. :
Luncheon Dish.—Save from break
fast two or three hard-cooked eggs.
Prepare small squares of slightly stale
bread; butter it lightly before cutting.
Make a cupful of white sauce to two
eggs and two slices of bread. Prepare
the white sauce by melting two table
spoonfuls of butter, add two of flour
and when well blended add one cup
ful of milk. Put into a buttered bak
ing dish a layer of the bread and cover
with white sauce, then one sliced egg;
repeat and finish the top with bread.
Bake until the bread is brown. Add
seasoning of salt, pepper, onion juice
or any preferred seasoning. This dish
may be made and served in the hot
white sauce without baking.
Sardine Salad.—Drain a can of sar
dines, sprinkle with lemon juice and
alternate with hard-boiled egg quar
ters on a bed of lettuce. Serve with
Erench dressing.
Cucumber Jelly.—Cut peeled toma
toes and cucumbers into dice, saving
the juice. Season with grated onion,
salt and pepper. Add gelatin and suf
ficient hot water, using two cupfuls of
salad material to half a package of
gelatin. Mold and serve on lettuce,
with mayonnaise dressing.
If thou hast friends give them thy best
endeavor,
Thy warmest impulse and thy pur
est thought,
Keeping in mind the word and action
ever—
The time is short.
—Elizabeth Prentiss.
SUMMER MEAT DISHES.
Veal, chicken, sweetbreads and lamb
are meats suitable for summer lunch
- eons. Minced
it cold cooked veal,
seasoned to taste,
- R reheated lin a
@__’/)1 white sauce and
> spread on thin
(&%) slices of buttered
Dote” ~( toast, makes a
good breakfast
dish with a poached egg.
Mock Terrapin.—Cut cooked calf’s
liver into dice. Put a tablespoonful
of butter into saucepan, add salt, pep
per, and paprika, cook until the but
ter is brown, then add two table
spoonfuls of flour and enough stock
to make a moderately thick sauce.
The stock may be made with beef ex
tract and water. Add a little chopped
parsley, half a cupful of cream, two
hard cooked eggs cut fine, a table
spoonful of lemon julce and the liver.
Cook until the liver is heated through;
remove, add a dash of orange juice
and serve at once on buttered toast.
Veal Croquettes.—Chop cold cooked
veal very fine. Season with pepper,
grated onion, paprika and tomato
catsup. Bind with a raw egg, or a
very thick cream sauce. Shape into
croquettes, dip In egg and crumbs
and fry in deep fat.
Escalloped Veal.—Mince cold cooked
veal very fine. Butter a baking dish
and put a thin layer of veal in the
bottom, with a sprinkling of onion
on top. Then add a layer of fine
bread crumbs well buttered, chopped
parsley, then another layer of vegl
and so on until the dish is full, hav
ing buttered crumbs on top. Poyur
milk into the pan until the dish seems
moist and bake slowly until 1t ig
done, with an inverted pan over the
dish to keep In the steam. Remove
the pan ten minutes before serving
to let the top brown, adding more
butter if necessary. .
Creamed Sweetbreads. — Parboi),
drain, cut up a pair of sweetbreads,
Make a cream sauce, add chopped
mushrooms that have been cooked in
butter five minutes, season to taste
and serve in timbales or in paper
cases,
ART OF HOPI INDIANS.
The art of southwestern Indians—
the Hopis and Pueblos of New Mexlco
and Arizona—is one of the few sur
vivals anywhere over the globe of a
primitive art. To the Indlan, action
and cleancut expression of what he
saw meant everything, while back
grounds and incidentals which fill in
a painting, to the modern ideas, meant
nothing. The Indian artist of today,
like the primitive artist, wastes no
brush strokes, and has no uncertainty
Renew my thoughts to beauty like the
grass
In hopeful spears when wintry days
depart,
And show me truths, as stars seen Jne
by one,
White faces through the sky's blue
window-glass—
Oh, let each seed of sorrow in my
heart
Grow tall and be a neighbor to the
sun!
DAINTY DISHES OF FISH.
Fish of various kinds are particu
larly appetizing in warm weather and
something different will
ERT be enjoyed.
©\ Jeliied Fish.—Soak
s\x one package of gelatin
A in cold water to cover,
g A\ then add enough more
sl ' water to make a cupful,
A dissolve by gentle heat
until the liquid is trans
‘parent. Have ready four
cupfuls of flaked fish, previously
cooked. Season highly with salt, pep
per, lemon juice or tarragon vinegar.
Add the hot gelatin to the fish -and
stir until it begins to thicken. Pack
into an earthen mold which has been
rinsed out in cold water and set away
to harden.
Broiled Smoked Salmon.—Rub the
flesh side of a smoked salmon with
butter and broil before the fire.
Serve with lemon quarters and parsley
on a hot platter.
Anchovy Toast—Trim the crust
from thin slices of bread and cut into‘x
finger-sized pieces after toasting and;
spreading with butter. Arrange the
pieces in a baking pan. Drain an
chovies from oil and lay one on each
piece of toast. Sprinkle with pep
per and lemon juice and cook ten
minutes in a very hot oven.
Deviled Clams.—Chop one medium
sized onion and fry brown in two,
tablespoonfuls of butter. Add two
dozen clams chopped fine, or a can.f
of minced clams, one cupful of canned
tomatoes, a teaspoonful each of
chopped parsley and Worcestershire
sauce, with salt and pepper to taste;
add one-half cupful of dried bread
crumbs. When the tomatoes are
cooked through, add two eggs well
beaten, stir until smooth and take
from the fire. Fill clam shells or
ramekins with the mixture. Cover
with crumbs and brown in the oven.
Curried Clams.—Fry a chopped
onion brown in a tablespoonful of
olive oil. Add a teaspoonful of curry
powder and a tablespoonful of flour.
Add two cupfuls of clams with their
liquor and cook five minutes.
“Gratitude is the fairest blossom
which springs from the soul; and the
heart of man knoweth none more fra
grant.”
SUMMER SALADS.
There is no dish which is more ap
pealing to the appetite during the
warm weather than
INWIW74 crisp, succulent salads,
\ \'- /P or those of juicy fruit.
\l 7 Onion Salad. — Chop
mild onions; add minced
» parsley and pour over a
/ : \‘ well seasoned dressing.
(‘.‘ Serve on head lettuce,
Strawberry Salad, ——
Arrange tender, whitq
lettuce leaves in cup shapes. Ffli
each cup with strawberries and put a
tablespoonful of mayonnaise in each
cup. Mustard and cayenne should be
omitted from the mayonnalise.
Grapefruit and Celery Salad.-—
Mix grapefruit pulp with finely cut
celery, using twice as much grapefruit
as celery. Serve on lettuce with may
onnaise.
The Three P.’s.—Take a cupful each
of stewed quartered prunes, pineapple
and rolled peanuts; mix well and
serve in lettuce cups with a French
dressing.
Tomato and Chive Salad.—Peel and
chill small, ripe, round tomatoes; roll
in a boiled salad dressing, then in
chopped chives. Arrange on the white
leaves of lettuce and serve well
chilled.
Pea and Walnut Salad.—Take equal
quantities of cold cooked peas and
English walnuts, broken in bits. Sprin
kle with French dressing, let stand
half an bour and mix with mayon
naise. Serve in lettuce or lemon cups,
Mustard and Lettuvce.—Take the
small green mustard plants, mix with
young lettuce and serve with French
dressing. The mustard, cut fine and
mixed with cottage cheese, makes a
most tasty salad, adding a little cook
ed salad dressing.
Radish and Onion Salad.—Cut in
thin slices, without peeling, small rad
ishes, and the same-sized onions; ar
range on lettuce and serve crisp and
cool. Pass the salad dressing, either
mayonnaise or French.
Vigilance.
- “My wife used to sit up tin early in
the morning, waiting to see what time
I came home.”
“So did mine,” replied Mr., Meekton,
“But now Henrietta needs her rest,
She has more important picketing
duties to perform.”
R SO
about them. He is simple, direct, ang
all the beauty which goes with simplic.
ity and directness goes with his work,
__“\
More Precious Than Gold.
There are now several metals, not to
mention priceless radium, which are
valued at much more thap thelr
weight in gold; Irtdium at $l7O ap
ounce, palladium at $l3O ang platinym
at $lO5. Gold ils $25 an ounce. Yet
there is something more precious thap
platinum, long considered the most ex.
vensive of all,
