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OUR COMIC SECTION
TWINS
IP
Duck—My, they look alike!
Hen—Of course, they’re twins.
Events in the Lives of Little Men
Wrong Party
Four- good fellows, old friends, met
after long years in an Irish pro*
vincial town. They visited an inn
and had several drinks. Then all
four left for the railway station. On
arrival at the train, three of the four
got in and the train pulled out, leav
ing the fourth fellow standing on
the platform, laughing until he was
weak.
Station Master—What the devil
are you laughing at?
Fourth Fellow—Shure, they were
supposed to be seeing me off.
BAKER COUNTY NEWS
QUITE THE ROUNDER
A
|\
“He tries to give the impressioi
he’s been round a great deal.”
“So he has—round town.”
ADVENTURERS’ CLUB
HEADLINES FROM THE LIVES
OF PEOPLE LIKE YOURSELFI
“Assassin of the Nile”
Hello, everybody:
You know, boys and girls, I have often said that you’ll
find adventure close to home a darned sight easier than you will
roaming the world. One who goes traveling in search of thrills
usually doesn’t find any until he gets back into his own bailiwick
again. But there are exceptions to every rule—and here’s one of
them. George C. Dorste of Bardonia, Rockland county, N. Y.,
met his biggest thrill when he was thousands of miles away
from home and in a strange exotic country.
The country was Egypt, and George landed there in the
course of his travels as a fireman on a tramp steamer. The steam
er was carrying scrap iron, unloading it in consignments of vari
ous sizes at ports along the Nile river and its many branches.
The year was 1912, and the ship had traveled part way up the
Nile and was anchored in the river just south of the town of
Medinet El Faiyum.
The ship was anchored not far from a pier. The weather
is pretty hot in Egypt. In the afternoon, particularly, the
sun beats down with such intensity that it is next to im
possible for anybody but a native to do any work. It was
at the height of the hot season, and the crew of the steamer, dripping
sweat from every pore of their bodies, were just about all in. Along in
the afternoon the skipper gave orders for all hands to knock off work for
the rest of the day. '
The men didn’t argue about that. Most of them just walked to
the shadiest spot they could find on that hot ship, flopped on the
deck and rested. But there were a half dozen young fellows—
George among them—who had a better idea. They stripped off
their clothes and dived over the side into the water.
The Hot Sun Beat Down on the Hull of the Vessel.
The water was cool and refreshing. Those lads were in it,
off and on, for the better part of the afternoon. They came out,
now and then, for a breathing spell on the ship’s deck, but the
A great reptile was between him and the ship—and not more than
20 feet from him.
sun beating down on the iron hull of the vessel made it so hot that
they were glad to get back in the water again.
The afternoon wore on and the sun began sinking toward the horizon.
As its scorching rays withdrew little by little, the day became cooler.
One by one the swimmers climbed back aboard the steamer and
stayed there. Finally all of them were dut of the water except one.
And that one man was George Dorste.
George loved the water and he hated to leave it. He was swimming
some distance away from the ship’s side, and about half-way between it
and the pier. As he splashed about in the river he heard a voice calling
on shore and, looking up, saw a native standing on the pier.
The native was shoutijig to George? but in a language he didn’t
understand. Then suddenly he began to point toward the ship.
George could figure out only one reason for that pointing. He im
mediately jumped to the conclusion that someone aboard had
dropped something over the side and wanted him to retrieve it.
He turned and swam slowly toward the ship. The native on the pier
kept right on yelling, but George paid no attention. And then, suddenly,
he saw it—a thing that looked like a log floating in the water, but a log
that had a rough wrinkled snout and a pair of glassy eyes just showing
above the surface!
The Pier Was a Great Distance Away.
A crocodile!
The great reptile was between him and the ship—and not more
than 20 feet away from him. A shudder went through George’s
body when he saw it. He turned and began swimming toward
the pier. But the pier was a great distance away—or at least, so
it seemed to George. He knew that beast could catch up to him
in less time than it takes to tell the story.
He was swimming as fast as he could—exhausting himself in a spurt
for the pier. And the crocodile was following along behind. It seemed
to George that the great reptile never approached any closer than that
original 20 feet—the distance that had separated them when he turned
toward the pier. Was the beast playing with him, as a cat would with a
mouse? Or was it waiting until George had exhausted himself in his
swim toward shore before those cruel jaws opened and closed over him?
Still swimming frantically, he reached the pier. And then
another terrifying discovery greeted him. As he made frenzied
efforts to climb up the poles that supported the pier, he found that
he couldn’t. Those polls were covered with a slippery moss. He
could make no headway up them. And all the time, now, the
crocodile was coming closer, swimming slowly toward what it
knew must inevitably furnish it its evening meal.
He Scraped and Clawed at the Moss-Covered Piles.
By now, George was mad with terror. He was still clawing and
scraping frantically at those smooth, moss-covered piles when the native
on the dock came to his rescue. Suddenly, the native picked up a
huge piece of scrap iron from a pile on the dock, and hurled it at the
swimming crocodile. The piece missed. The native threw another—and
that one found its mark. It hit the beast on the snout, and it dived
beneath the surface.
By that time a boat had been launched from the ship. It
came tearing across the water as George’s shipmates pulled
hard on the oars. It reached George a few seconds after the
crocodile had gone down.
“As they pulled me out of the water,” George says, “I lost con
sciousness for a minute or two. But I came back to life before the boat
had reached the ship—in time to see the steely eyes of the crocodile
which had reappeared once more. It was following along, not more than
10 feet behind the boat.”
And George says that if he’d had a gun then, it would have given
him the greatest pleasure to aim it right between those two glassy eyes
and pull the trigger.
(Released by Western Newspaper Union.*
Wildlife Federation Works to Protect the Black Bass
The National Wildlife federation
reports a steady increase in laws
protecting America’s most popular
game fish, the black bass. In all
but five states, there is a closed
season on the small-mouth and
large-mouth bass. Thirty-eight
states prohibit the sale of black
bass. In 1937 a federal law was
enacted prohibiting the interstate
shipment of black bass illegally
caught. A vote in all of the states
gave the bass first place as the
sportsman’s choice among 1939
Wildlife Week stamps. It is point
ed out that black bass do not spawn
until water conditions are suitable,
and that the male bass guards the
nest until the spawn hatch. While
the nest is guarded, the male fish is
in poor condition, is easily caught,
and his capture means the destruc
tion of the eggs. Full protection
until the spawn is hatched is highly
necessary to the welfare of the vari
ous members of the bass family,
which includes bluegills, crappy,
sunfish and rockbass.
or. AC?
I /
Impossible
Aunt Martha went to a sports
meeting for the first time. Ths
pistol went off, and the men
sprinted.
Aunt Martha turned to her neph
ew—And do these men really
think they can catch up with that
bullet?
At His Post
The taxi was going very slowly
and the passenger was in a hurry.
“I say,” he shouted, “can’t you
go any faster?”
“Course I can,” came the re
tort; “but I ain’t allowed to leave
the taxi.”
SKIMMING THE SURFACE
i
“Beauty is skin deep.”
“That’s enough. Nobody wants
an X-ray photograph of his sweet
heart’s physiognomy.”
Goes Without Saying
Sergeant—ls anything moves,
you shoot.
Sentry—Yes, sir. And if any
thing shoots, I move.
Rejected Suitor—No, no, Joan,
don’t give me back the ring. After
all, what’s $6.75 to a man with a
broken heart.
Or Wash Your Face?
Teacher—Remember, Jimmy, a
job done well never wants doing
again.
Jimmy—Did you ever mow a
lawn?
Not to Blame
“Darling,” said the young hus
band, “what a peculiar flavor thia
stewed steak has!”
“I really cannot account for it,"
replied his wife. “Indeed, in or
der to take away the unpleasant
taste of the onions I scalded them
in eau-de-Cologne.”
1 ~
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smith’s Tonic! Thousands of people*
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millions of people, for over TO
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you that it’s what you need. TRY
Wintersmith’s. That’s all we ask.
WINTERSMITH'S
TONIC
Greater Need
Just now there is a great clam
or and demand for “culture,” but
it is not so much culture that is
needed as discipline.—W. G. T.
Shedd*
KILL ALL FLIES
I
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Supply the Mind
A house is no home unless H
contains food and fire for the mind
as well as for the body.
CONSTIPATED?
Here Ie Amazing Relief for
Condltlone Due to Sluggish Bowels
w K you think all laxattvea
acO alike, just try- this
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Without Risk SruggU? toe tart—
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* QUICK RELIEF
FOR ACID
INDIGESTION
Give a Thought io
MAIN STREET
• For, in our town.;, and towns
like ours clear across the country
t.. there’s a steady revolution
going on. Changes in dress styles
and food prices ... the rise of a
hat crown... the fall of furni
ture prices—these matters vitally
affect our living... And the news
is ably covered in advertisements.
• Smart people who like to be
Up-to-the-minute in living sad
current events, follow advertise
ments as closely as headlines.
• They know what’s dping in
America ... and they also know
where money buys most!