ERR i i 2 i i : : Bellefonte, Pa., March 15, 1912. ——— THE WEARING OF THF GREEN. St. Patrick's day in the moming there— "Twas many a year ago— I traveled a road to Donaghmore With a girl I used to know, And she had a ribbon in her hair As green as the emerald sod, And we tramped that way as gay a pair As ever the dear soil trod. A bit of tune to me ear is brought By a passing vagrant breeze, A bar from a tune me ears once knew In a land across the seas. It’s the dear old “Wearing of the Green,” And it bears me far away; In mind and heart I'm in Erin's isle, And it's morn, St. Patrick's day. When old the day. in the deepening dusk, Once again we came that way. The path we trod was a glory road, E'en though the dark shadows lay Athwart the path, for love shone bright As stars in the blue o’erhead. We whispered o'er as we tripped along The words that the priest had said. St. Patrick's day, and I'm far away Fron the isle of emerald sheen, And many a year a dear grave there Has been wearing of the green, Ah, "tis here am I in freedom’s land— Please God I'm here to stay— But me heart and soul go home each year For to spend St. Patrick's day. —Arthur }). Burdick. THE LIGHT IN HER EYES. No, Sir,” Tommy's father would say, “I never had any advantages, and Tom- my's all we've got, and he's going to have ing I missed, every blame thing! I tell you that!” . In spite of the advantages, Tommy was a lovable chap, who man to make a grade every year by sprinting on the home run and wearing his knickerbock- ers out in the principal's office. At fourteen he crossed the Rubicon, burned his bridges behind him, and put away childish things. The pants were pretty long, but he was growing,—why, you could see him grow! He'd leave home in the morning, looking so. And he'd come home about supper-time when the steak began to smell through the door that Nora always left open so “it” would “fetch him,” and his hands would look so big, and his feet, too, and his mouth sort of white around the upper lip, and | "What have I done to her now, to make | shake it. He just held it; 00k | urner, | her so mad, I'd like toknow! Aw, I don’t | him quite a while to think it out: Celia’s | his mother would say, “Tommy I don’t know what ever makes you grow | care, I ain't wanted to practise for a long | white hand in his! so!” . And Nora would elucidate: "Look at that stone jar now, will you, Mis' Turner! "Tis full it was yester-mornin’, an’ look ; ie chi sic parlor, waiting for | ar. He worked like a beaver, because when he went with his five-dollar bill to Professor Paleocheoux, late from Vienna, | it was nice to be told that he had a good Re ei rapidly; and he was e was learning : was | i idly. Sitting on the little to get ready to play, he had to tie his i feet in a knot to keep out of the way | | when she went by, always so plaguy | | close, switching her skirts and fooling | with her sash. : ! His time was perfect. He handled the ! bow exactly right. But when it came to | Playing with expression, Tommy was a | failure. : “Now here,” said the Professor, "is an | exquisite little thing I want you to learn. i The music was written for these words, ! and perhaps it will help yout to think of | them. They run like this.” He repeated ! them, the words running on about how | the moon and the stars shine in the skies, and how they're dark, and everything | void, compared to the light in Her eyes. | “Exquisite little thing,” said the Profes- | sor. “Now learn it." i Tommy came back in a week and play- ed it in perfect time. When it said to. rest, he rested; when it said double p, he pianissimoed, and when it said double f, | he fortissimoed, and yet the Professor said it wasn’t music. When a man with up- right hair and a name ending with hay- fever says a thing isn't music, why, it | isn’t, and that's all there is about it. | The Professor interpreted the poem. | Hadn't the young man noticed the moon | and stars, how marvelous they were? i Hadn't he ever felt it, the magi: of the i night? Tommy hadn't. And the light in her eyes, now. He must try to imagine | the way the man felt who wrote the ! lines.” i “Now repeat the words after me, said | Professor Paleocheoux, a trifle impatient. ly. “You can't play it until you can say it! Repeat the words and get some ex- pression into them!” Tommy repeated them and got some expression of a page in the almanac. And then one day, when Tom didn't pass in his Geom, and he had tonsilitis, and green paint on his new trousers, Marie Murphy came tripping by on her little clicking French heels and | sang out, “Oh, Tom, I can't play your cumpnamunts to-night; I've got a’ en- gagement. I'm sorry, but you'll have to excuse me.” She tossed her curly head and looked ! over her shoulder, looked anxiously, bit- ing her dimples into position, wondering | how her scheme would work; for Tommy was very fair to her eyes. "Gee, she hates me! Hates me like | | poison!” growled Tommy, as he threw ‘his geometry into the Boston fern. | time! I don't care! It can all go hang!” | And he went up to his room and banged | the door. i | A different Tom came out. They didn't | She wasn't fashionable because her sister Mame was going to marry a board- | of-trade man, and Mame didn’t want any | full skirts in her trousseau, or waists that | hadn't stylish peasant sleeves. So Celia | wore hand-me-downs. ! At the party she cleverly kept Tom from blossoming into the common or gar- den variety of wall flower. “Shall we sit here?” she asked, or, “Shall we walk over there?” and he obeyed as though she were Czar of all the Russias. And during refresh- ments she told him about it in a tender little whisper when he spilled | some of his ice-cream and it went in a | strawberry Niagara over his knees and ' onto the Oriental rug. There is some- thing about a woman who has seen a man in such mental dishabille and thrown the mantle of charity over him! Once I saw a man empty a plate of hot soup over his knees, and the woman who was with him had a sense of humor— but never mind that. Celia gave him her lace handkerchief because he couldn't find his, and told him to use a little ben- zine, and it wouldn't leave a spot, and Oriental rugs were more valuable after that sort of thing,—it made them look old,—and she almost always spilled hers. And then, pretty soon, they went home. The moen floated like a silver boat in | the sea of blue. A million stars winked solemnly like kindly eyes. The katvdids | were contradicting each other: "Ka did, she didn’t; Katy did, she did.” A little breeze stirred the white clematis, and mixed its fragrance with the night. But it wasn’t that. It was something intangible, ineffable. You know. They walked slowly; there was no hurry. They went around the block, Celia talking in a low voice like a strain of remembered music,—things that didn’t amount to much: how rainy it had been, and wasn't it lovely now that it had cleared off; and her sister Mame was going to be married soon, and live in the city; and the Allen's collie was dead, and she nearly cried. As they walked under the whispering trees, Tom's eyes smarted; his throat ached; he kept swallowing and swallow- ing, but he couldn't get it ail swallowed, — that awful lump you get in your throat when you've been part way to the dogs, and you wish, and wish—He wished he | had always been good, as good as Celia,— ' Celia in white, with a misty white shawl swaying like wings of cloud; and he wished he could do great things, —unut- terable, unheard-of deeds of white glory, things no one ever did in all the world. They came to her door. The moon- | light fell full on her uplifted face, and her eyes were full of light. He looked | “Thank you,” he said, "for asking me.” She held out her hand, but he didn’t and it took | The light in Celia's | eyes shining on him! “"Good-night—" "Good-night—" They whispered the word, though there at it now! Nothin’ in it but the mud- | know he was different at first, so gradual | was nothing to hear it but the wind blow- | tracks ladin’ to the back door! An’ when | was the change, but they remembered | ing in the lilac-trees. She opened the | I frinted him with it, the young blarney, | afterward that it—whatever it was—had | door and closed it softly after her. he said] was the classy peach! Tommy, me dear, hurry now, fer yer steak is cool- in’, an’ thurs something I hided frim yer- silf on a plate in the pantry. The yallow wan!” It seems that when you put on long pants, you've got to get culture. Tommy announced it as he drew the sugar-bowl from under his father’s newspaper and spoiled the rise in wheat on the thirteenth page: “I wanta take lessons.” “Well,” said his father belligerently, as he propped his paper against the water- pitcher,—he wouldn't havea bottle on his table, no matter how stylish it was,~—"] guess there's nothing to hender! I never had any advantages myself, and your'e ight now an’ here. You're going to have advantages whether you want ‘em or not! What kind o’ lessons?” “Tommy! I always did want you to learn to dance!” His mother laid her fing- er on the Place in the Sixbest-seller where | d Donovan Fitzbrown was whirling her in the /liazes of oe waltz ang the dream music floa ugh the fragrant palms. “I never learned to dance, Grane pal My folks didn't believe in it, but there's so many things that’s wickeder! Somehow, I guess its something you'd best get out o’ vour system you like thi that come out in spots. You learn to ” “No, no. Ma! I don’t want to dance! No, sir! You catch me huggin’ the girls, an’ all that—ugh” Tommy i de gua with a chill, “I wanta learn to be a Wiggiclan. dropped his knife and f s pa i e ork and bulls and bears over the pitcher. The water ran in a fresh little stream, and the Sixbest-seller drank it , “A musician!” he "Well, of all things! Why, I never in my life Pa, someone might hear. They moved in’ veserday—yon their ture! 1 would t to see one family get along de ave ing about if now past “No, sir } aover had any Music, and 1 always wanted it—why, it's in the family, lots of it; my uncle— m “It wasn’t in my family,” confessed Tommye mother wistfully, “but it was in my “Music! Well, man, if that's what you walk, sats what you've got to have) What on - thought You could ne e had seen it ina His pa exploded. “Huh! If that's all they cost, anybody can one! No, sir! Say! ye haven't "3 ane, Why haven't we ever St t that’s the thing!" o Tommy’s mother closed the book with a snap. “No, sir, Pa! No piano-playing for a son 0’ mine! Did you ever see a playing hh that Wan 't different Tommy had thought of the if there was any woman m up it that settled it.” going to! I'll tell you that, young man, | | been coming on for a long time. He | i stopped taking lessons. He wouldn't | | finish the year at school. He stayed out | nights. Now and ‘then he smoked a | cigarette—and it would have been oftener, { had they not, in spite of bis brave efforts, i been so sickening. He compromised. on ia pide. He wore his hair as the barber | did his, shiny, flat to his head, his hat a "trifle to one side. His mother found 1 queer-looking things in his pockets, i round, like little cookies, about the size ; of a half-dollar, red, and white, and blue, | He did not look one straight in the eye, and he walked with a slouch. He didn't care if his heels were run over. He didn't care! His father stormed angrily. “Here's { me,” he boasted, as Tom’s mother put i down the window on the side toward the | new neighbors, "here's me with no ad- vantages, and here's Tom with every- thing, and look at him going to the "That's what he is,—going to t J But he didn't tell the Po helen the ; : : ! § : a g gg ie 3293 33 fii i § Ti i 2 £3f 't mind that, fer g RE i | ! 1 i h §LIEiif ni tated EE fiaiiifs EE, hE iy fie Hi Gis: E2Ele zifs:2 ih pint 2 gF : i 3 He went home slowly,—around the block, back under the whispering trees. | He lifted his hat, and the perfumed wind | loosened the waving hair from his tem- | ples; and when the hat went back, it was | straight on his head. i His mother was waiting for him,—she | ty | in embroidered flowers and butterflies, | ' is a durable fabric, is now made upin a | FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN DAILY THOUGHT. i Just love! Love something, some one, | And friends will flock Like snow-birds to the window ledge Where lies the crumb. What kind of a blouse are you going to | wear with your new spring suit? Maybe you are the kind of individual that clings to white ones, no matter what the season | nor the fashion. To be consistent along | any line of fashion is to be envied, for if you have chosen well in the beginning | and then persist in carrying out that | style the public attaches itto you and re- | sents it if you depart from it. i You gain reputation. You save time | and expense. And more than all, you | save hours out of your life toward some | better object than fuming and fretting | over the choice of a fabric or the style of | a gown. The woman who can make a falcon-like swoop on the right garment as | soon as she sees it, and knows with unal- | terable decision that it represents her style, is the woman who has time to at. | tend to the duties and pleasures of life. The modern blouse of today is a sister | to tte man’s shirt of a century ago, with its exquisite handiwork that did not show | but in minute stitches, carefully taken : with the point of a cambric needle anda | thread you couldn't see. i The sleeves are finely tucked and long, | with a turnover cuff, or a frill that falls | on the hand. The small pearl buttons in | front may show, but they are usually hid- | den under a fold of the fabric. There is | a frill of fine lace and muslin in front or | one edged with embroided scallops. : No stiff turnover collar of linen is ai- | lowed to top this soft bit of lingerie. , There is a stock of the fabric, finely | tucked, held up with serpentine feather- ! bones and finished with a flat turnover of a lace a quarter of an inch deep. The | finish in front is quite simple; usually a | tiny black taffeta bow with some fanci- | ful ornament of brilliants in the middle. | The horseshoe of diamonds or rhine- | stones has given way to a horse's bit in | the-same gems, and it is a relief, for we grew very tired of the emblem of good | luck. The woman who is not of the stable and hunting field prefers a small | slender circle of diamonds or pearls to | hold this black bow in place. i If you do not wear white blouses as a | constant thing, if you do not look well | in them or cannot afford the constant | laundering and the large number needed | to keep one fresh, then you will consider | the alluring blouses of colored marqui- | sette, of taffetta and chiffon and of chif- | ' fon cloth. : These are made in surplice style or | { with a deep transparent bib, back and | front, and again in the small tucks of the | lingerie blouse with its front fastening | and its supple frill. Chiffon cloth, which | color to match the suit, lined with very! thin china silk. Its surface is entirely | covered with overlapping fine tucks and | there is no trimming whatever. { The sleeves are carried out in tucks | and there is a three-inch tight cuff tuck- FARM NOTES. —Do not expose the fowls to strong March winds. -—Never set a thin, won't stay her time out. —On cold evenings the hens must be sent to roost with full crops. lousy hen. She --Careful feeding is necessary to the economical use of the oat bin. —Manure and disking will renovate the worn out pasture or meadow. —Especially at this time of the year, the fireless brooder is to be recommend- —Blanket a horse warmly, and brush well to thoroughly clean and stimulate the skin. —The most successful growers of al- falfa recommend sowing the seed in the spring. —Look out for through the floors. worst kind. drafts under and They are about the —At least three weeks before cows are due to calve the heavy feed should be discontinued. . —Horses that have heavy coats of hair should be clipped now just before the new hair starts. —Quick, intelligent attention will often save a lamb or a pair of them, and often the ewe as well. ~The first feed for little chicks should be sharp sand, water, hard boiled egg and small seeds. _—Anything in the vegetable line, pro- vided ‘t is sweet and clean, is an accept- able food for fowls. —A tablespoonful of oil-meal 2 day for each ewe, given regularly, is a sensible | addition to the ration. —In a case of twins one is often weaker | than the other, and would die if not as- | sisted to nourishment. —Too much corn has caused the loss of many a fine litter of pigs, and often the loss of the sow as well. —If a sow is restless or jumps up when | the pigs are nursing, examine the pigs for | If any are found file them | sharp teeth. off. —Keep the hens busy by scattering millet seed or cracked wheat in the litter. The active hen is the one that filis the egg basket. —Where a herd of cows were given troughs with a constant supply of water, the increase in milk was one pound each day, on an average. —For early hatches it is best to give not more than eleven eggs to a hen, or those on the outer edge may become ex- exposed and chilled. —Any egg eaters in the flock? Make the nests as dark as possible; that will help. If that doesn't discourage the cul- prit, sharpen up the ax. —The brooder is more responsible for poor results than is the incubator. The brooder has not as yet reached the stage of perfection that the incubator has. —Do not forget to furnish plenty ot oyster shells as the season of heavy CHR was always waiting, no matter how late | oq around the arm instead of up and | laying comes on. They can bg purchased it was. Tom looked at her a moment, ‘down and snugly fastened with small! by the sack for about 60 cents a hundred said "Hello," started to say something crochet buttons in white or in the color | Pounds. more, but turned shyly away and went softly up the stairs. She sat with his sock stretched over her old hand, prick- ing it idly with her darning-needle, smil- ing through dimmed spectacies. Tom woke in the morning—and re- | membered. He combed his hair as he | used to do, got out his violinand tuned it | up. ‘Well,” said his pa, at the foot of the | stairs, chuckling foolishly, so that Tom | wouldn't know about the tear that was trickling down in the wrinkle in his cheek, "that sounds mighty good! I knew we'd be hearing that again!” "Who's going to play your cumpna-! munts?” said Ma, her apron at her twitching mouth. “Celia. She's pretty busy just how, sewing,~—her sister Mame's going to get married,—but she'll have plenty of time after that.” i : | £5 i g f : g5 22% £3 i gs gisgs i {i 2 = Ch : i i : | i Lg J xe : do WHE lia Lis eeel Eh hik i :f ji I i gs : E } local physician to Dr. Pierceand had that verdict entirely set aside. A new verdict has been rendered and that verdict v 2 eon plan over . . ed his staff of nearly a score of spect, has treated and cured more half a million women. Sick women, I he Wekuanly gute, xe vite Soconsult Dr. Pierce, joes vate and sacredly confidential. yy Ala Dr. R. V. Pierce, Buffalo, N. Y. ~——When we read the lives of distin- men in any department we find for the amount they could perform. A ———————————————— gr hes iled WG sm the neighbors that Tommy was going away to school in the fall! And then there was a party, one of those where the girls invite the hoje Tom Turner hadn't been to a party six months, Sr any Sther place where there were girls. was pointed to as an Awful Example of Inherited Wealth. Celia Mason asked dim. They had known each other for years, but they hadn't noticed. Tom thought she was the same girl he snowballed once to see how wide she would open her astonished eyes; but he wasn's rss the kit of a girl was,—a A all spirit, white candle-flame. Pale.blond olf 155. thick on the Laci of hes ned white of her skin. of the cloth. Much thought has been expended on! row skirts. They are made perfectly! plain, on the drop-skirt order, and the | majority are not trimmed at all. The few | that are trimmed have lace or insertion | put on flat so that therc will be no bulki- | ness whatsoever. Then the new petti- | coats are short, reaching to the shoe tops. Messaline is the favored material used; also silk jersey with a scant messa- line flounce. Bands of black velvet are again being worn around the neck. Directly in front a clasp with a pendant is fastened to the velvet band. i : 5 it ist i : : H ga gg Duties Politues Toa plik of mazhed i ag yolk of an Ee: i i ir fe hi 8 g E # zF £ s oF 52 5 i 7 a i i i i 2 7 i | FE gs ig —For class Job Wark come to Tr igh sius Je 3 8 8 7 : 2 2 —If a horse slobbers, better look to his teeth. They may be sharp and need fil- ing. But dont do it yourself, unless you | designing petticoats to be worn with nar- | have learned how from somebody who knows. —Early spring winds are pretty trying to hens. They have been shut up so long that they are tender and feel the blasts. Shelter them well till the days are warmer. _ —Soaking whole grain by pouring boil- ing water over it and allowing it to re- main for twenty-four hours, will cause it to swell and prove an acceptable change for the fowls. . w=Reganlless of fhe ig of hatch ing keep you i t are several Rg A at has Jey ee s : 1 £ : i : £ E i BE) fi rf i g g F857 | hi B 252 5 i S35 i 3 g g i i ix g 2 g i | g I: I f ! ; H ; i 1 I 5 a i Get Close to Nature. Says a philosopher: “Observe na- tute. When you come to a barnyard go in and see the pigs and fowls and the cows. Climb a fence now and then and go into the field: and look at the crops or ihe cattle. | know of no place where there is more philos- ophy than in a barnyard. You can learn much from animale. Within their circle they know inch more , than we do.” Cood Hint, Those who keep up a regular ccrre- spondence with several friends will find it 2 good plan to keep envelopes addressed to each of them in some convenient place, and into these to slip newspaper cuttings and notes of , things which will interes: each par- ticular correspondent. When the time comes to write the letter it will be , found that the task is practically ac | ccomplished. Sourcec of Her Cold. As papa didn’t come homie for lunch, mamma and little Katherine always ate a cold repast, which Katherine didn’t like. One morning the little girl woke up with a very hoarse voice. | “Where could you have caught that cold, dear?’ asked mamma, “Ithink | it was from eating that cold meat yes- terday, mamma.” In Right Places. A witty woman once said that house. keeping consists in taking things out and putting them back. One might elaborate the statement by saying that good housekeeping consists in getting the things back in the right | places, and easy housekeeping con- sists in having places enough for the things. Longevity of the Earth. That the age of primitive man in | France runs back at least two hun- | dred thousand years has heen satis- factorily proved by Lyell and other | geologists, who showed that it has | taken at least this long for the rivers | to wear away their beds below the | caves where they once flowed. i i | Rivalries, | “Why do so many musicians speak | disparagingly of instruments that play ! mechanically?” “I don’t know,” re- | plied the gentleman with Circassian hair. “But I don't see why we should be more generous toward a mechanical instrument than we are toward each other.” Adhere to Lofty ideal. Never allow yourseifl to live habitu- ally beneath your loftiest ideal, for, if you do, that ideal will fade from before you, as & painter's who might L paint sunsets, but contents himself with painting signboards.—~Henry Van Dyke. Architecturally Speaking. “I am the architect of my own for- tune,” said Mr. Ductin Stax. “Well,” replied Mr. Holden Howes, “by* being your own architect you're liable to gel some curious elects, but you do save a lot of money ou plang and spe- cifications.” Rare Optimism, “There are very few real optimists,” remarked the contemplative citizen. “What is your idea of a real optim- ist?" “A man who can walk to work just as cheerfully as if he were chas- ing a golf ball."—Washington Star. Practical Domestic Science. “What is this domestic science?” in. . quired the engaged girl. “It consists of making hash out of the left-over meat and croquettes out of the left- over hash,” explained her more ex- perienced friend.—Pittsburgh Post. Australia Claims Healthiest City. Sydney, Australia, is claimed to be the healthiest city in the world. At the Australian Medical congress, held recently, it was stated that the town bas the lowest death rate of any city in the world. 2 Leave It to Her. * “T asked your husband last evening if he had his life to live over again it he would marry you, and he said he certainly would.” “He certainly wouldn’t.”—Houston Post. Put Away, Despair. Fight like a good soldier, and if thou sometimes fail through frailty, take again greater strength than before, trusting in My more abundant grace. —~—Thomas aKempis. Making Up Natural Defects. A French physician has discovered the means of planting artificial eye- - lashes and eyebrows. The former op- eration is very painful, but the latter less so. country can have. Time's Greatest Evil. The greatest evil of the times is not the love of pleasure, but the love of . ease. ~ Burden-Sharing a Duty. It is the duty of each generation to bear its own burden.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers