Bellefonte, Pa., February 2, 1912 WHAT KNOW WE? What know we of the gnawing grief That dims perchance our neighbor's way, The fretting worry, secret pain That may be his from day to day? Then let no idle word of ours Sting to his heart with more dismay. What know we of temptations deep That hover round him like the night, What bitter struggles may be his, What evil influences blight? Then be not hasty to condemn If he have strayed from paths of right. We know so little of the hearts Of those whom day by day, we greet. Oh, it behooves us one and all Gently to deal with those we meet. Gently to deal and gently judge, With that divinest charity That thinks no evil but would seek The good in every soul to see, Measuring not by what it is, But by that which it strivesto be. ~L. M. Montgomery. THE MAGIC FIFE. The following true story was told by the author at adinner of the Indiana Society of Chicago, given in that city on December 11th, 1909, It is worthy a wider audieuce and sois published for the first time. One gh ihe CO a hd begun to earts o rent Americans, I was sitting in my law office in Shelbyville, which city, as you may , is almost the exact centre of Indiana and of the United States, and, for aught I know, of the universe at large, wondering where my next victim would Some from, when the Joos opened and, as if in response to my unspoken prayer, in walked three victims. Perhaps I should say one, for the vic- { tim was that joyous trinity, a man, a woman, and a baby. After I had enjoyed gazing at the baby for a moment, I turn- ed my attention to the man and found him to be a huge, long legged, rustic Apollo, very young, and evidently sogreen that he would have sprouted standing in the mud. With the true spirit of chivalry, he carried the baby, and I must confess very handsome, notwithstanding fis 70 clothes aud more or less un- pt general condition. However, masculine beauty never did drive me wild with delight, so with small ing to most men and distracting to many. not describe her. She was a typical Hoosier girl and could have won all Hebe’s money in the game of health and youth without buying a second stack. Green? Of course she was. There was no need for her to stand in the mud to sprout. She could have sprouted as she ran. “Come in,” said I, with true lawyer unction, “and take chairs.” The girl victim sat down near me and took the baby from the man. Then he found a chair, and after many elephantine evolutions sat down with all the ease and | P" grace of an overgrown young kangaroo. When all was quiet, the baby turned toward me, smiled and cooed. Imme- diately the victim business was forgotten I was Roating fathoms high in the sweet azure sea of babyland, for in all the siren repertoire there is no music so en- ticing asa baby's coo. But I was called to earth again by the voice of the girl victim, asking. “Be you a lawyer?” “That is the assumption,” I answered. She looked at me wonderingly, then to the man victim. He shook his head as if to say ke did not know who I was talking so, after a moment's hesi- tation, she repeated. “Be you a lawyer?” “Yes. What can I do for you?” I answered. She sighed; her eyes showed si of cou tears, but she controlled: f “He's in a o' trouble.” TL sorry,” I returned. "What is 1 “Well,” answered the Dumpling, “he the fife, know. Hain't ever of his fin?" Jou “I believe not,” I answered. "What is please?” the name, “His'n or mine?” she asked. wits " 1 suggested. “Are not you his A look of mild reproach anda tender toward answered my ques. Then she turned to the man vic- a you we orter ‘a’ fetched the stif'cate.” The witty ] der. cate preacher give us when we got married,” she ve “No, no. That's not at all necesary,” I said. “Tell me about your troubles.’ She tooka long breath, shifted the wi a yl | e the most beayti- ful like! He had a fife—~No. 174. Oliver Ditson’s best. Got it at Carlin & Lenox’s to Indi'noplus—seven fifty. But he'll never play it again.” “Tell me nanfes, please, and Whedon as, g 8 2 3 2 : i : : : i : H fj ge g : £ 3 : : : ii Sail Ei ns iE : 3 § i gEd i : 2 3 ve | i hy | had,” she rejoined. "Ni Presi- lay <u United States has heerd of him, and that’s what's made all this here trouble.” | Tears choked her voice, and she i i nodded to the man victim, saying be- | tween her sobs, "Show it to him.” { The man drew forth a letter and | handed it to me. The victims watched { me intently. The sobbing stopped even the baby sat up and took particular | notice. The letter was written on a ‘ letter-head of the sheriff of the county, ! and was as follows: “Mr. Joe Parrs: | “DEAR SIR:—Take notice that you are to be at the court house next Wednesday morni at nine o'clock. I've heard of your fifing. Your country needs you to | lead her armies against the Spaniards. ! You will be in the front rank, where the bullets fly thickest, but you hain’t afeard | to die for No. 174, Oliver Diston’s best—seven-fifty. ! If you ain't there you'll be hung. “Yours truly, THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES.” | When I had finished reading the letter | aloud, the girl victim almost threw the : baby to the floor and falling to her knees, | flung her arms around the man's neck, ! ing as if her heart would break. He stearthury kissed her hair, patted her | shoulder caressingly, and lifted her, oh’ iso tenderly to her chair. One could ' easily see that the real sting for him in : all this trouble was the pain it brought | to her. Self had no part in what he felt. Spanish bullets had no terror for him, | and fear of losing his life, I felt sure had i given him no concern. Dumpling and i baby were his life, and their pain was his | agony. He told me all this most convinc- without speaking a word. “I'd rather give up the baby a thousand times. Ill die, I know I'll die, if they take him to the war. Please, mister, ed that Brooks, on whose farm the Parrs lived, was an ac- quaintance of mine. He was a rollicking young blade of the Brom Bones pattern and was great practical joker. Although he considered himself very “smart,” he was quite as gullible in many respects as the poor suffering victims before me. I knew at once that Brooks had purloined a letter-head from the sheriff's office and ' had perpetrated the cruel joke. I knew pid could not relieve the Jeu i my interesting victims by tell- ing them that their trouble was all the result of a joke. Sol took a little time to think. “When did you get the letter?” Iasked. i "Yesterday afternoon,” the Dumpling What did you do when you got it?” "He read it. I can't read,” she answer- ed, casting down her eyes for a moment. “Have you spoken to any one about it?” I asked. “No, no; we was afeard,” she replied. "We waited till after dark, and then we went out to a bij un stump over by the road, and I hi im bust up the fife with an axe and leave the pieces on the stump. Then we went home and I cried all night. He tried to keep me from cryin’. He's powerful good to me. He's a powerful good man. His father was a preacher down in old Posey.” The last statement doubtless saved Joe's life from ish bullets, for it furnished me a definite plan of defence. "You say his father was a preacher?” I asked seriously. . "Yes, sir,” she sobbed. "A Baptis' eacher down in old Posey.” "Well I'm glad you told me,” I re- sponded, "for now I can easily get you out of your trouble. Preachers’ sons are exempt from military duty.” She reached his hand and gave him a. Then she snatched the baby from the floor, hugged it to her breast, and kissed it passionately. Baby had come to its | own again. Mother love had returned. {| "Are you sure?” she asked. i utely sure,” I answered. is the law, [I'll show it to you.” I plow that her respect for a law-book proportion to its size, sol down Webster's International Dic- "Here { it 7 i § i vy i Ee E £ i 3 : gg #5 3 a8 g i Now, you home. Don’t come back day after to- j : baby cooed I pocketed the sweet little fee, forgotten. SEs EsesEsessat sre EEsaaRia ten Attorney al Law, I id telegram stating that “I just a CTT) & [tepram § my name in a letter to one Joe Parrs. To forge the name of a private citizen carries with it Jmprisqament. To the name of the t of the United States, as Jou itiow, iS heason and the punishment 3 i. : i i 8 g : | 2 : F 2 2 3 : gs -— he) set si i and | country. Bring your fife, | ingl i “On, I can't let him go,” she sobbed. look such as many a man never receives | © tucking it away in my memory, never to | F: “Yes, yes, of course I have,” I answered. | “Never mind about that now,” I inter- : reckoned | rupted. “You go to Carlin & | : 8 cost, seven-fifty. Bring it back this even- ‘ing. Wrapit in banknotes if you want Lexon and get a jife, No. 174, Oliver Ditson’s best— | | to, and late tomight place it on the gum ' stump where Parrs broke up his fife. | When you leave the new fife, be careful . to collect 2!l the pieces of the take them away. Parrs will find what leave, and | feel sure he will permit to destroy the letter, and you will be | Brooks lost no time, and that night the | fife was lying on the gum stump wrap in twenty-dollar bills. Brooks wanted to be sure that the bills were large enough to serve their purpose. The next morning my victims returned | as directed. When they entered the door, | Joe's face was like the sun. The Dump- ling’s eyes were like great brown joyful and | you me stars, and the baby—well, the baby was the sweetest little asteroid you ever saw. | “We found the fife on the gum stump | this morning!” cried the Dumpling, al- most breathless with joy, “and it was. wrapped in money, too. We went out to get the silver bands, and there it was, ! whole and good as ever again!” "Yes, and I have a letter from the President, apologizing for having tried to ' draft a preacher's son,” said I Then read to her the President's let- ter, and proved the truth of my reading by showing her the writing, though | was careful to hold it well away from silent Joe. "How do you suppose the fife came to be on the stump?” I asked. “Lordec¢! Don't ask me!’ she answered, laughing and dimpling in a manner which I think is really criminal and should not ' be allowed in public. After a few silent tears, she continued, “Do you want ter hear him play?” “I should be delighted,” I answered. | + She nodded to him. He drew out Fife | No. 174, Oliver Ditsons, best—seven-fifty | and after elaborately moistening his lips, i gave me his repertoire from “Dixie” to | “The Mocking-Bird in a manner never the joy itgave the Dumpling. who seemed to be the purser, got out i her money and offered to pay me. I said, “No, no, I don’t want you to pay me in money.” Her face grew brighter, the dimples became positively criminal again, andSshe sible for even a Dumpling to be, as she | said. “Well, we thank you a heap, for you got us out of an awful trouble, and we'll be mighty glad to pay you any way we can,” Then I said. 1 just want you to let me kiss the Dumpling looked upon the request in the light of a new obligation rather than a payment. Silent Joe remained silent. Bal its eagerness to pay the family debt. So I took my fee. As my victims were leaving the office I asked again. “How do you suppose the fife came to be on the gum stump?” Dumpling shook her head and looked musingly out the door. Silent Joe turned to me, smiled the only smile I ever saw on his face, exhibited the only twin- kle of mirth I ever saw in his eyes, and I could feel him think of one word “Brooks.” Thus Silent Joe out of my life, | never having heard him utter a word. As they were going out through the door- way, baby smiled back to me over Silent Joe's shoulder and said “goodby” as best it could in a series of smile-wreathed coos of the sort that makes a man just want to go out and corner the whole baby-market and have them all for his wn. Then I sat down by the window and was foolish enough to be as happy as if I had had a real cash victim. Green? Yes, but clean of heart and in niche and home of Ben-Hur and the land of eo Swimmin’ Hole."—By Charles ajor. I fis gd i 7 i Ze g ; : £ : | El Hugh He fst ! g 8 : f | | 8 : i ih E : i ] g g 57 i E ES I ; i | P : g : 2 : F | : : i H ¢ : 8 g g il ] : ; : | 18 i : : : | which old one | equalled by any fifer, living or dead, if | one might judge of the performance by | hen the recital was over, Dumpling, | certainly was as entrancing as it is pos- | Real Estate Transters. Ira C. Harpster to George E. Rider, 8 aores of land in Half Moon Twp.; John L. Holmes et al to Irvin L. Foster tract of land in Ferguson Twp.; $250. Robert Cook et ux to Matthew Rod- gers, Jr., 450 acres of land in Howard 'wp.; $800. Mary Ellen Bryan et bar to Andrew Curtin Bryan, 35 acres of land in Taylor Twp.; Mary J. Peeling et al to H. F. Kessing- , er, tract of land in Liberty Twp.; $60. Henry A. Garner admr to Daniel Gar- ner, 83 acres of land in Ferguson Twp.; $3200. Jolin Workman et ux to William J. McHugh, trustee. 2 acres of land in { Walker Twp.; $275. Cyrus Gordon et ux to William J. Me- Hugh trustee, 10 acres of land in Walker Twp., $1250. Isaac Strunk et ux to William J. Mec- Hugh trustee, 20 acres of land in Walker Twp.; $1500. Fred M. Rogers et ux to Julius H. Sei- bert, 325 acres of land in Snow Shoe Twp.; $100. Kate A. Rogers et bar to Julius H. Sei- bert, 400 acres of land in Snow Shce Two.; $100. Kate A. Rogers et bar to Julius H. Sei- bert, 300 acres of land in Snow Shoe Two.; $100. Zachias Fulton to Emma May Fulton, tract of land in Philipsburg; $1. John F. Beck, 51 acres of land in Miles Twp.; $1. B=njamin Beck ¢t ux to John F. Beck, 51 acres of land in Miles Twp.; $1. Harry Fulton et ux to Zachias Fulton, house and lot in Philipsburg; $1. Bees as Incubators. An ingenious American, while tending his bees in an ordinary beehive, noticed temperature within tne hive appeared to be similar to that in his incubator. means of the thermometer, and found that his senses had guided him aright. It | then occurred to him, he says, that he | might combine the industries of honey- making and egg-hatching, and make the i Su | vide the necessary temperature for the |other. He placed twenty eggs in the upper portion of the hive and separated them from the working apartments of the bees by means of a cotton cloth. The | eggs were further protected by cushions made from a quilt, and were left in their unique position for the requisite number of days. The American says that eigh- teen of the twenty eggs hatched out. ——It is never too late to do right, but sometimes it is uncomfortable. side frill must go. “AND MY WIFE, ROSIE,” TOO Bridegroom Who Had Forgotten to Register His New Better Half Hoi. 2 y Makes Amends. In spick and span raiment, carrying each a new sui? case and a timid ex- pression, they entered the Hotel Nar- ragansett and inquired the way uneas- fly to the desk, says the Providence Journal. Spying a kernel of rice on the youth's hat brim, the clerk smiled covertly, whirled the register with an encouraging flourish and placed the inked pen in the nerveless hand. “John B—, New Bedford, Mass." wrote the youth, pushed back his hat, upset the kernel of rice and wiped his beaded brow. “But, er—the lady?” inquired the clerk soothingly. “She's my wife,” quoth the youth, straightening up, bristling. “She ought to be registered,” ad- vised the clerk thoughtfully. “Ain't you put me down?” the lady murmured, looking over the youth's shoulder. pen,” said the youth, quickly. Whereupon he smiled and wrote: “Amd my wife, Rosie.” Motoring at Its Best. Few motorists know of motoring in all its fullness. They drive along coun- try roads for a hundred miles or so, through towns so closely set that they virtually run through one long village, They cross the ocean and enjoy the perfect roads of France and Switzer- land, and imagine they have exper- fenced all there is in life in the motor car; but no ore has ever been brought to a full realization of what motoring really is, or what the wonderful med- ern machine of man’s creatfve genius is really capable of doing until they have sat in a racing car side by side with an expert driver and tasted the sport as it is under such conditions. | Lord Byron once wrote: “What a de- lightful thing is a turnpike road, such ‘a means of speeding the earth as scarce the eagle in the broad air can accomplish.” He certainly spoke in prophecy of the motor car, and espe- cially of the racing machine, which defies distance and shrinks space into the most tiny proportions.—The Co- lumbian. Moth Balls in the Orient. “You will find strange names for or dinary things in the Far Bast,” said an American who has recently been in those parts. : “When I struck Singapore I had a lot of heavy clothes with me which had been necessary on a journey across Siberia. T decided to put them away in a trunk, but thought I wouid get some moth balls fram a drug store. “ ‘Moth balls?’ repeated the chemist with a stare. “‘Why, yes; those things that you put in clothes to keep moths out, I explained. “‘Oh,’ he said, intelligence showing in his eyes, ‘you mean aphthalated marbles.’ ” one day when handling a swarm that the | He thereupon put the matter to the test by uous warmth from the one pro- | Smart women have decreed that the | “0, sure, I—I forgot. Gimme the |&M and they think they have motored. |. FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN DAILY THOUGHT. A little philosophy inclineth men’s minds to atheism, but depth in philosophy bringeth men back to religion.— Bacon. Just at present the return of the straight lace trimmed jabot, that was in vogue ror SO many years, is predicted. Pleated tulle jabots are also candidates, but they are not practical, although usual- ly most becoming. The simple bodice, with the low shoul- der finished by a wide hem and the full- length close-fitting sleeves attached to the lining of the bodice, is a feature of some of the newest frocks, although the ma- jority of gowns show the elbow-length peasant sleeve such as we have worn for some time past. This sleeve and the modified peasant sleeve will undoubtedly . be worn during the summer. The skirts of all semi-dressy frocks escape the ground all around and are as narrow as ever. They are made either quite simple and trmmed with a row of ball buttons down the entire length of the front, a smart new feature, or they have the knee- deep tunic. Foreign fashion tendencies and Paris forecasts especially, strongly indicate another long-glove season, says the Dry Goods Econoaust. The waists, dresses and costumes which are now being turned out by our home manufacturers also point to a season of short sleeves and which will call for 12 and 16-button length silk , gloves—more especially the latter. There 15 not much iikeiihood that there will be a scarcity in wrist-length fabric gloves unless it be in the finger tip black silks. While another white season is anticipated, ! nevertheless a fair proportion of colors will be required. these being largely of the shades which are classed as mastique, biscuit, pongee, gold, khaki and light tans. Navys, also, will be in request with the usual evening shades. Elbow sleeves, not being worn in the | daytime, undersleeves have to be added | to last year's gowns, and these are gen- | erally made of self-colored chiffon. The i low-cut kimono should be filled in with a | net undervest, with high collar band. | Evening dresses may be renovated by | overdraping them on the cross in front with some thin fabric. The choice is large, from net to chiffon. White satin i can be draped with black most effective- [ ly, and contrasting colored tunics, whether | in satin or thin fabrics, are certainly the | mode. Lace overdresses bordered with | fur transform an evening dress and one | for demi-toilette. ! It is not necessary to be an expert | needlewoman to do some of the beautiful | work that we find in the homes of today. | The shops are filled with lovely cushion | covers, tablecovers and centrepieces. There are also aprons for chafing dish ! parties or for embroidery, with a pocket ! to hold the work. There are the dainty blouse patterns cut to work. One finds new work introduced. It is not one of the passing fads, but an art that has come to stay with us. Every woman loves to hold a pretty piece of embroidery in her hands. She can entertain a friend even while she is working out some pretty de- signs. She may do work and still she would be embroidering, for that is one of the present-day methods of decora- tive art. The punch work and the eyelet holds its own, There is nothing daintier than the open work embroi . It has a rich be stylish. At all events it is very effec- | tive. The cross stitch work offers an oppor- tunity to the young girl to decorate her room beautifully. There are the prettiest models of sofa cushions to be done in cross stitch. There are wreaths of roses still, However, one has merely to fi the cross and do the work broidery, and it. There is aothing able than this mode of In every woman's find a or two Sg tone to it and is old-fashioned enough to and also scroll designs which are siipler ordi FARM NOTES. —Keep a little gas-tar on hand and apply it for scaly legs. —Never whip a horse when he shies. It will increase his fear. —Dont let the cows out in the storms to stand around. It doesn't pay. —In fitting horses for hard work in- crease the grain ration but not the hay. —February hatched chicks are apt to molt in the fall, and will not be worth anything for egg production in winter. —Horses are very fond of a variety, and fussing always pays in the better gondition and greater usefulness of the orse. —It is best to reduce the milk producs- ing food, so that a mature cow will dry rest for a month to six weeks before calving. —Take care that none of the soapy water from the gets into the milk fed the hogs. Almost sure to cause bowel troubies. —Turkeys more than any other poultry seem to require fresh air. They will roos: in trees during a snow-storm and not seem to mind it a bit. —Forcing laying hens with stimulants of any kind, except those nature supplies in good food, is a dangerous and costly process in the long run. _—Ground oats, wheat bran and a little oilmeal, together with some alfalfa or clover hay, will keep the brood sows from becoming feverish. —The first milk of the cow is of a peculiar character—called calostrum— acung as a purgative, and this puts the bowels of the young calf in perfect work- ing condition. —The sheep know their master's voice —there is no doubt about that; but it is more important to know what they do when they hear it—whether they flee in fear or come with expectancy. _ —If a young pig becomes chilled, take it to the house and plunge it in warm water (as hot as you can bear your hand) several times, and then wrap in warm flannel and put in warm place. —Soak stale bread in sweet skim-milk, press out the milk as completely as pos- sible, and feed the chicks. Also keep coarse sand before them; without it the chicks can not grind their food. —Sheep, like other animals, are crea- tures of habit, and should always be handled by the same attendant, who should move among them gently and give notice of his approach by speaking to the flock. —When a stormy day comes, spend a few hours looking over the garden seeds for the coming season. See that they are not being affected by dampness nor by excessive heat. The mice may be help- ing themselves. —One of the biggest mistakes farmers make is in scrimping themselves on the amount of grass-seed sown to the acre. Of late years seed has been high, and the | tendency has been to sow less than was stitches coming up every season and new needed to bring a gcod crop. Better save somewhere else. —The farmer has one thing in hisfavor, what he knows he knows. There is no chance for a bluff in tilling the soil. Everything shows right up for just what it is worth. If he is a success he cannot hide the fact, and it he is a failure the Jeighors are quick to know the particu- ars. —Before planting any large quantity of small grain, grass or clover seed, send a sample to your state experiment station for examination. of many noxious plants are to be found in impure and unreliable seeds. It is far easier to do this than to eradicate some pestiferous weed that obtains a firm foothold on your farm g THF Bi {7 ; g g gs : iq : | lk ii: £ 3 : =~ @ ~» I EH il | : ] 1h i Es | ih : 1 ; if i ] : : Lf 5F i o 338 i i iE i I: I g i i : : 2 2 £ i 3 a HH] ; i t it Wi dif il i Ik oi g5i8
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers