RR
Bellefonte, Pa., May 6, 1910.
bm (LLL
STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE.
Dew of dawn on hills of dream,
Beaten eggs and lots of cream;
Breath of bloom from vales of sweet;
Taste of flavor while you eat.
Layers of snow and bars of gold
In between them, crushed or rolled,
Berries from the vines that run
To the reddening of the sun.
Gods, upon Olympus’ height,
Cross your hands and take a bite
MADAM BLUEBEARD.
upon the subject that was to be close
A er
“That Mrs. Mandaford . ..” he said.
= YouT forgive Mme veiling m this time of
pe» 1 assured him.
Mrs.
“A of a woman,” he
said. 1 may be excused for mention-
jug a Jady's figure. You are a friend of
“No,” I said.
“But you've spoken to her, of course?”
ery feel
y? You surprise me. She is so
very affable—and to me of all people. It
is very kind of her.”
you have tastes in common,”
mischiev
I Suggesied ously.
no,” he said, very Sid y. “1
mean—I am really a thout any
tastes. Mrs. y: ord Susi the
greater part of the conversation.”
“Interestingly?” I asked.
He put down the brushes with which
he was smoothing his thin fluff and
a poor hand at it myself that
sighed.
was largely due to the fact, spread by| “I hardly know what to say,” he said.
y h pad martied “1 am such
t her smile even
know that Colonel
-room.
“I call you people to witness,” he said
as he sank into a seat, “that I'm stopping
ere for the fust of He vovage
“Why so, Colonel?” asked one of the
men present.
“Because she's looking for a fourth
and, by Jove! she'll have him too.”
He rang for a peg and cut into a bridge
1 don't like to seem critical. If I might
venture, I should describe Mrs. Manda-
- | ford’s conversation as a trifle too senti-
" he said, deprecatingly;
*Scarcsly a kind description, is it?
am wrong about her. I am so
aly Sha perhaps
Ee»
“Oh, you're afraid of it, are you?” I
said, hardly able to keep from laughing.
He gave me an a ing look. :
“It is so difficult with ladies, or so it
seems to me. I am afraid of not respond-
ing in the key—of jarring.”
see,
“Or what would be worse,” he went on,
anxiously, “of seeming to agree with
things with which I do not and cannot
agree. It is so extremely difficult with
“But what on earth,” 1 inquired, “are
these topics that require so much discre-
tion from you?” :
He had somedifficulty in explaining,but
1 gathered that she had begun to ogle
him quite obviously.
“She seems to feel that are
apt to be so romantic. She says th Jue
meets twin souls on board.
four with trembling fingers. Yet he was | in which people who have never met be-
an elderly bachelor, marriage-proof, you | fi
would have said, and not devoid of cour-
age. He had seen service on the fron-
tiers and also in Somaliland, where, by
the way, the dervishes run large.
His example was followed by most of
the bachelors who could stand an equal
amount of smoke and heat, but there
were times, especially in the
Indian | which people
ore become in quite few days.”
He shivered slightly as he stressed the
go ppose they do,” I said.
“ su Nie
“Yes—but—but I am not myself a mar-
ing man. I shall never A
t—"
Ocean, when he had to come out, and— | are, as a rule, only most pathetic fallacies.
blockade.
as the Colonel said—run the
Married men like myself did not so great-
ly fear Mrs. Mandaford’s awe-inspiring
He didn't, and I liked the little man the
1 failed to see how he
out of his dilemma.
more for it, tho
to be hel
was
affability. We felt that we had in front | The few efforts that I did make to inter-
of us, as a screen and
forcible remarri
protection agains t | vene
all the authority of | beard’s sentiment were unavailing. I
the Church and State. Besides, she sort-
between him and Madam Blue-
used to go up to them and point out the
ed us out into the married and unmar- | mirages that were to be seen across the
ried, the goats and the sheep, with an in-
fallible accuracy. Several of us were
traveling single, but she left us alone. I
A a
there is something about a mar- | dunes, carrying bright-col riders, or
ried man that disti es him. A joy-|hea
? The ap-
ous tranquility, is it
the worst and emerged
pearance of a miner who has found
or of one that knows that for him
is no gold to find?
Anyhow, she knew.
Luptons supported me. ‘By the time we
Gradually, but in a very obvious way, to her.
she began a weedi
bachelors.
aside the undesirables!
process among the
The skill with which she set
edge of the drab desert, with its wide
The knowing | shops overhung by latticed balconies and
ones were rejected first, then the reck-
its unwindowed drinking-taverns and arid
boulevards haunted by all the half-bred
less. She had brought them down toa
half dozen within as many days. Then | scum of a half-way country. Too taw-
to three—to two—to one. I think we had | dry to be Western and too dull to seem
A had a presentiment who the one would
He was a Mr. Luptons, a little man, of
course. He had been in the Salt Reve-
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he thetic Ee
sympa way
ible trast to Madam
near hank was the force of
sulting her.
“May 1?" I said, as I sat down beside
her after handing her to a chair.
as they are going to be married.’
“Peor little man!” she said, and laugh-
wy I've come to you to ask if you can't
| find a way out of it for him.”
rst.
“Talk of a woman meddling!" she said.
You men are much worse. And meddling
in a love-affair, of all things.”
“It’s not,” I said, stoutly.
“How do you know!” she insisted.
“Love is a very funny thing. I've known
men—""
“Oh, I dare say you have',” I said. “But
this is different. It's a tragedy. For the
crrdit of your sex you ht to help him.
Think of that woman. All the men on
board call her Madam Bluebeard.”
“Men are gossips,” she said. But I
think she was a little impressed. “I tell
you what,” she went on after a little pause
and screwing of eyebrows. “If it's a cer-
tainty that little man has been driven
intoit against his will, I'll try and help
him out of it. But we must be sure of
that. No guess-work! He'll have to state
his unwillingness.”
“He will,” I prophesied.
"Tell me what he does,” she said.
As it turned out, his patience and sense
of chivalry staved off the confession for a
day or two, nor was it till we had passed
through the Straits of Messina that he
Ours was one of the first big
boats to go through after the earthquake,
and as every one was busy looking
through glasses at the strewn heaps of
stone and dust that once were lovely
Southern cities, the chief officer joined a
little group of us.
"There's the strangest feature of the
whole thing,” he said pointing with his
fnger.to a patch of smooth water on the
port side.
"What's that?” said Mrs. Simeon.
“That's where Charybdis used to be.
Scylla’s opposite. The earthquake has
wiped the whirlpool out of existence.”
of waters that had sucked down the ships
of legendary heroes, galleys from Tyre,
slave-ro Athenian triremes, there was
no trace left. Yet, as the the chief officer
said, it had been a real thing. He him-
self only a few months back had seen a
big liner turning in it as helpless as a
“Well, the earthquake did one good
thing, said Mrs. Simeon.
“Wonderful!” murmured Mr. Luptons.
I do not know if Mrs. Mandaford, who
was sitting close by in her usual place,
i ved of his having left her to
come and stare with the rest of us,but she
intervened at that point.
“I dare say,” she said, ponderously,
“that, for all we know, earthquakes do a
lot of good. People want to be shaken
up now and then.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” said Mr.
Luptons, quickly and nervously.
Exactly. People don't know,” said
unequal contest. He must have brooded
on her words, for that same night, with-
out any pumping from me, his confession
came out with a rush. He had made a
mistake, he said, in regard to his -
ment. Could I, asa married man and a
man of the world, advice him as to a wa;
out of it? I told him that I had seen it all
SonNng, at which he seemed surprised. 1
told him that a woman's advise was what
he needed more than a man's and with
his permission I would consult MS Sim-
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“I think it "ll be tragedy,” I said. “That's
She would not take me seriously at
rtainly it was strange. Of that whirl |
Mrs. Mandaford, and he retired from the | said,
opium. I tapped him on the shoulder.
o must drownd now?" Ye said, sirply,
coming to his feet with a salaam.
sahib wishes it?”
“The sahib wishes you to go overboard
will not He
| you.',
i Ileft him, a little doubtfully, but with-
in two minutes the splash of him was
' distinctly audible. I was leaning con-
, veniently on the rails just above, and I
turned my head to see that Mr. Luptons,
who had taken my chair, started up ner-
vously, but sat back again.
“Is your bearer, I cried. “You're not
going to let the poor fellow drown, are
you!”
“No, no,” said Mr. Luptons, and I saw
Mrs. Simeon whisper to him. At that he
came trotting over, and the next moment
he, too, was struggling in the black
water,
“Good!” I said to myself, throwing a
life-belt overboard, and was horrified to
see Mrs.Mandaford suddenly appear from
the companionway. She came straight at
me.
“Who is it?” she cried. Already there
were shouts of man overboard and peo-
ple were rushing about.
“Mr. Luptons,” I said.
save Peter.”
"And aren't you §oing to save him?
You're his friend? No, you're a coward, 1
sce.”
I shrank back dismayed. A man
' doesn't care tobe taxed with his coward-
ice, even if he knows that it isdsplomacy.
I shrank back, but before I could gather
my wits to make an answer,a miracle had
occurred. Madam Bluebeard, with some
gymnastic effort of which I should have
deemed her incapable, had flung herself
over the rails after her betrothed. A great
sousing noise showed that the sea had re-
ceived this brave woman. . . .
Again Ihave to leave to the imagination
the scene that followed. It was confusion
, twice confounded, full of much rushing
up and down, shouting of directions, an
sacrificing of life-beits. In the darkness
Mrs. Simeon and I satand quaked. What,
if somebody had been drowned? Not till
Reasly twenty minutes later were we re-
lieved. Then to the side of the ship lined
with excited Jossengers there pulled a
boat manned by French sailorsand bring-
. ing with it Peter, a damp white bundle of
shivers and chattering teeth; Mr. Lup-
| tons, limp and streaming; and Mrs. Man-
| daford, wet but undismayed. The two
| men were put on board first by her orders;
| afterward she came, Amazonian from the
foam. Mrs. Simeon and I exch a
d iring glance and joined in the cheers
and clapping that ted her.
“Hot blankets for all!” she said and
| stalked off to her own cabin.
{ I turned to Mrs. Simeon.
I "Well?" I said.
“She's got him,” returned that lady,”
“and I'm not sure that she doesn’t de-
serve him.
that little man hasn't given us away by
telling her the whole conspiracy.”
"Good heavens!" 1 said. “I never
thought of that. I think I shall go and
see.”
“He's gone to
tined to more surprises than one that day.
As I entered our cabin, Mr. Luptons rose
in his berth, held out both hands, and
1
“1 shall never be grateful enough to
you.
"What on earth for?” I asked.
“For being the means of showing me
the great happiness in store for me. Sir,”
he went on fervently, “I am a wretched,
unimaginative man, and I am ashamed to
own that even after I had won her I did
not sufficiently aj jate her.”
“Mrs. Mandaford?" 1 interjected to
make sure.
“Yes," said Mr. Luptons, ecstatically.
“Yes. The noblest woman in the world!
And the bravest. I told her so in the
i”
“You didn’t, I suppose, mention,” I be-
gan, cautiously, “our little—"
“Plot?” said Mr. Luptons. “No. I shall
never do that. It would spoil the ro-
mance."
“The romance?" I echoed, and added
hastily. “Yes—of course.”
But Mr. Luptons was not heeding me.
“It is such a romance as I have never
ho | dreamt of.” he said, thous hefally. “to
fe. She has
I asked.
“My future wife says that she will nev-
er willingly allow me to part from Peter
—if he can stand our climate. You see,
but for him it would never have happen-
ed. He is a part of the romance."
“Quite so," I said. There was nothing
else to say.—By R. E. Vernede, in Har-
per's Weekly.
ANCHOR, OREGON, APRIL 30, 1910,
Special correspondence of the * Walchman."
The educational system of Oregon is
fine, resembling in its workings a vast
machine in the highest sense in which the
term is used. Each part of it comes in
contact with the central power. Every
pupil who graduates from the common
school comes in touch intellectually with
the State Board of Education. This body
consists of the Governor, Secretary of
State and the State Superintendent of
Public instruction. One of its duties is to
prepare the questions for all examina.
tions above the seventh grade and for all
| teachers’ examinations. The latter are
held twice every year, extending over a
period of three days. One begins the
second Wednesday in February ending
the Friday following, the other begins
the second Wednesday in August and
lasts until the following Friday. All
teachers throughout the State who are
candidates for teachers’ certificates at
the same time answer the same questions
on the same day, in the same manner, on
the same kind of paper—legal cap; and
those in each county at the same place,
usually the county seat. This, in some
instances, means several days travel if
the applicant happens to be located in a
distant part of the county and far from
the railroad.
The members of the examining board
| =the county superintendent and one or
I only hope and trust that
I went, inwardly afraid, but I was des- :
i Pupils enrolled (6to 21 years).............. 107,493
two assistants—do not know what ques-
tions will be asked until the papers con-
, taining the questions are ready for distri- |
bution. The State superintendent sends |
| the questions in sealed packages to the
county superintendents of the several
counties who do not open the package
"until the classes are assembled. |
Before the class begins work an envel-
ope containing a numbered card is given
to each member, who signs the card and
makes a note of the number. The card
is then returned to the envelope which is
sealed. These envelopes are collected
and laid aside until after the examina-
tion papers have beeu graded.
The sealed package containing the
questions is now opened and 2 number of
sealed envelopes—one for each branch in |
the curriculum-—are taken out. These |
are opened as their contents are required
in the progressof the work. The ques-
tions are distributed; the answers desig-
nated by numbers are written with pen
and ink, on legal cap and signed with the
candidate's number, the same as that on
the card. The result of this method is a
strictly impartial grading of certificates.
No teacher may teach within the State
without first passing an examination in
Oregon School Law.
The State Text Book Commission, a
body consisting of five members appoint-
ed by the Governor, decide what text
books shall be in use in the State for the
ensuing six years. This insures a uni-
form system of text books and prevents
needless changes being made. School
boards have nothing to do with the text
books. Pupils furnish their own books
and school supplies. But the State fur-
nishes free library hooks to all the schools. '
These books are selected by the State Li-
brary Commission and paid for out of the
library fund. The library fund is secur-
ed by an additional tax of ten cents per
capita to be collected with the school
and other taxes. To raise the school tax,
the county court levies a tax on all prop-
erty, sufficient to amount to the sum!
of seven dollars for every child eligible
to school registration, between the ages
of four and twenty years. is money is
placed in the hands of the county treas-
urer. It is apportioned by the county
superintendent as follows: One hundred |
dollars is first placed to the credit of |
every school in the county; the balance |
, is then divided among the schools accord- :
ing to the number of pupils belonging to
each school. If these two sums do not |
amount to three hundred dollars a special |
tax, not to exceed five mills, is laid on |
the property of the district which is defi- |
cient. If this does not reach the requir- |
! ed three hundred dollar amount the defi- |
cit is made up by an appropriation from |
| the irreducible school fund.
Public lands that have been set aside |
| for school purposes—two sections in every
| township—are sometimes held and the |
| money is placed on interest. This with
gifts, bequests, etc., form the irreducible |
school fund. Only the interest of this
fund is used. i
| Every school must be in sessiou not less
| than six months during the school year, |
| and must cost at least three hundred dol- |
| lars, eighty-five per cent. of which must |
| be paid to teachefs’. But many districts !
' have more than six months school, spend |
more than three hundred dollars on them |
and pay more than eighty-five per cent. of |
| it to their teacher.
. Some districts have school in the sum- |
| mer because the amount of rainfall in the |
| winter makes traveling to and from
| school quite difficult west of the Cascade
| mountains, and east of the mountains the
| snow gets deep and the weather cold.
But town schools and many of the coun-
try schools are in progress during the |
winter.
The courseof study is arranged by the
state board of education, and is uniform;
to do a prescribed amount of work in a
given period of time.
Through the courtesy of Hon. J. H.
Ackerman, state superintendent of public
instruction, I am enabled to give the fol-
lowing figures, taken from the bienniel
report made in the year 1908. When read-
| ing the figures given below, it is well to |
‘ remember the fact that the law making
' the minimum length of term six months
‘and the minimum amount spent onfeach
| school three hundred dollars annually did
not go into effect until 1909. Also that the
| population has greatly increased since
i 1908.
.
Pupils registered in estimating
The University of Oregon, school for
the blind, and the school for deaf mutes
—Subscribe for the WATCHMAN.
| er with
a —
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
DAILY THOUGHT.
As thou sowest so
shalt thou reap.
Smile and thou shalt
smart.
—Emerson.
Whistli is a very valuahle physical
exercise El properly emp and if
the children are inclined to whistle they
should be The habit of whis-
encouraged.
tling develops the skill in breath control.
To whistle properly one must take a docp
breath through the nostrils and in addi-
tion, keep the lungs well inflated. Togeth-
right breathing goes a good circu-
lation and from that follows good diges-
tion.
In suits with any pretense of elaborate-
ness, pockets are a prominent feature.
Even in plain suits the pockets are con-
spicuous for odd shape and finish.
Fancy tailor-mades from Paris show
the pockets a mass of soutache.
In these the coats are only long eno
to allow a place for the pockets below
waistline.
Often the edges of the jacket are braid-
ed or embroidered in the same way, and
the lapels and collars always are.
In these suits collars are of the shawl
tpye in the waistline or near it.
It is rather superfluous to say more
atom foulard when so much has been
said, but it is not quite possible to keep
off the subject w! it dominates the
shops and the dressmakers. The two fab-
rics one hears most about are chiffon
veiling and foulard. Both come in an in-
finite variety of weave and color and they
are wi Siugly or} Jogethe 1) Tbe fashion
or veiling foulard wi e transparent
fabric in another color or another tone
has gone steadily into popularity. It is
ble that the exclusives are a little
afraid of it, and individual gowns will not
be made up in this way, but of its popu-
larity there is no question.
It is the foulard gown itself pure and
simple that interests the majority of those
who have not full purses. It looks, from
present indications, as though the world
| Jould be flooded with foulards before
| June.
: The material as it is now woven and de-
There is no reason against this.
signed is artistic, durableand cool. And
if there is one thing that the American
sighs for it is a cool fabric during our
summers.
We cannot afford white linen and mus-
lins in business, for they are too expen-
sive, as one morning will finish them as
far as cleanliness is concerned. We can-
not always afford linen suits or frocks of
any color, if we are busy women, because
of the manner in which this fabric crush-
es and needs ironing. Foulard is different.
If it is a good, strong quality it will not
wrinkle easily, and the wrinkles will shake
out quickly. It does not retain the mois-
ture from the body, as other silks do, and
it comes in such serviceable colors that it
will remain wearable for most of the sum-
mer without cleaning.
The practical absence of lining in the
new gown helps to make it er and
more suitable for one-piece frocks. Even
in the handsome gown boned lining is not
popular. Those who have full figures
probably need a lining that is boned over
the bust and waist, but their corset and
a bone-fitted muslin corset cover should
do the work of holding in their flesh.
Now that women give so mucn time
and attention to getting the lines of their
figure absolutely correct and trimmed be-
fore the gown is put on, the need of lin-
ing is not severely felt.
Artists in dress will be delighted this
season at the taboo put on the high-boned
stock. They have always considered it in
the worst taste. They have contended
that a woman's neck should be as bareas
her face, and if the neck is yellow or
scrawny it is because she has abused it
with bones and tight bands. Possibly this
is true, yet it will be difficult to convince
all women to wear collarless frocks at all
ours.
It is not a fashion. The English
them And
fhiey have lovely necks. It is the French
fi 1) ence the Rack in the t
jacket. rench have
There Te ae YS
neck, that it certainly brings with it a
most im of the
and muscles, It Jo interesting to notice
every school in the State being expected | two
woman of 50 who ooks
better without a stock as does the girl of
18 who has the advantage of a youthful
contour.
Dinner gowns, those for the theatre, for
uncheons, for weddings are all collarless,
but the shirtwaists are, too, and so are
the foulard, pongee and linen one-piece
a