Benoa dan.
Belletonte, Pa., December 22, 1916
———
BETHLEHEM TOWN.
As I was going to Bethlehem town
Upon the earth I cast me down
All underneath a tree,
That whispered in this wise to me:
“Oh! I shall stand on Calvary
And bear what burthen saveth thee!”
As up I fared to Bethlehem town
I met a shepherd coming down,
And thus he quoth: “A wondrous sight
Hath spread before mine eyes this night. |
An angel host most fair to see,
That sung full sweetly of a tree
That shall uplift cn Calvary,
What burthen saveth von and me.”
And as I gct to Bethlehem town,
Lo, wise men came and brought
crown,
And while the Infant smiling slept,
Upon their knees they fell and wept ;
But with her Babe upor her knee
Naught recked that mother of the Tree
That should uplift on Calvary
‘What burthen saveth all and me.
the
Again I walked in Bethlehem town,
And think on Hiw that wears the crown.
I may not kiss His feet again,
Nor worship Him as I did then;
My King hath died upon the tree
And hath outpoured on Calvary
What blood redeemeth you and me!
. Eugene Field.
THE MIRACLE OF LITTLE NOEL.
Lizette Amboise sat beside the win-
dow making lace. The lovely line of
her profile caught the light; the clear
white of cap and kerchief enriched the
olive of her skin. Seen thus from
within the room, she was so beautiful
that the old eyes of Pierre’s mother
brightened as they looked at her.
Pierre himself was working in the
woolen milis at Lisieux. «Soon after
ne went his house had caught fire, and
Lizette rushed through the flames,
had led his mother out to safety.
Since then the old woman had remem-
bered only in flashes.
So there she sat in Lizette’s cottage,
her eyes brightening as they rested
on the girl. But all at once they cloud-
ed; she had remembered.
“If it was as it used to be,” she
broke out in a quivering voice, “you
might be restored for Pierre’s coming
home.”
At the words Lizette turned, and
the oid woman began to cry.
“For him to come back at Christ-
mas,” she wailed, “to see that!”
The girl looked quickly away. The
rich olive of her cheek had faded to a
dead pallor; her hands lay idly in her
lap. “For him to come back to see
that!” She used to rejoice in Pierre’s
love of beauty. He was different
from the other young men of the vil-
lage, who cared more for a woman’s
strength than for her face, and who
looked always at the earth they tilled
and never at the sky. Pierre could be
keen ana shrewed as any other Nor-
man peasant; buf Lizette knew his
dreams, his delight in beauty, the
thoughts he hid from his neighbors.
Once Lizette had said to him:
“Perhaps I can serve you as well
making my lace as though I were
strong to work in the fields.”
And Pierre, his dark eyes glowing, |
had answered:
“It is not your service I want, my
Lizette. I want only to have you near
me, to be able to look into your face.”
The words had pleased her when he
spoke them; now they stabbed her to
the heart. And so difi these lines of
the letter Pierre had written after he
heard from the cure ahout the burn-
ing of his house, and how Lizette had
saved his mother: “My beautiful,
brave Lizette! How shall I wait to see
vou! Your face is always before me.”
“Mere Bernay,”— Lizette had turn-
ed again to the old woman,—“listen
to me, Mere Bernay. What did you
mean when you said I could be restor-
ed for Pierre’s return if it was as it
used to be?”
“By a miracle of Little Ncel. You
weuld make the nine-days’ praver be-
fore Christmas mass. Many are the
cures were made so at our church in
the old days. But that was long ago;
they are made no more.”
The miracles of Little Noel! Lizette
had heard of them ever since she was
a child, but they had seemed merely
a tradition. Suppose—her eyes wid-
ened and she drew her breath in
quickly.
If the miracles had ceased, it must
be because the faith of the people had
died. Hac not the cure often be-
wailed the worlcliness of the times,
the love of pleasure that had replaced
piety ? If she had faith, if she praved
with her whole heart, it might be that
a miracle of Little Noel would be
wrought even now for her!
Jt was only two weeks before
Christmas. Scon she could begin the
nine days of special fasting and pray-
er; and there was time before that
for preparation. Lizette rose, took
down her long cloak, bent over
Pierre’s mother, kissed her withered
cheeks, and then went out into the
golden light of the sunset.
. been
| that she would begin such an
. cloth on the morrow.
She pulled the hood of her cloak far
over her face, and walked rapidly. She
saw no one until Mere Fouchard camo !
to her door, calling shrilly to the little
Henri. Mere Fouchard stopped
shrilling when she saw Lizette.
“How the girl keeps the hood over
her face!” she said to herself. And
then, “Does she think she can hide it
thus from Pierre Bernay when he
comes back!”
She called a greeting, hoping Li-
zette would turn; but she was dis-
appointed. The girl answered with-
out looking around.
The church was in the middle of the
wood in which the village was built.
In Normandy these little villages try
to hide themselves among the trees;
but the gleam of their white-walled
cottages, betrays them.
When Lizette reached the church,
twilight was gathering, and the
branches of the trees wove delicate
traceries against a sky of pale ame-
thyst and rose. The old stone church,
with its square tower, made a picture
amid that setting which Lizette was
quick to note. Pierre had taught her
to see such things.
But she noted also, and with a sor-
row she had never felt before, the di-
lapidated condition of the church. In
the days when the miracles of Little
Noel made the village famous, it had
different. Then, as Lizette
knew, not a crumbling bit of mortar
had gone untended or a candlestick
unpolished. And the women of the
village had woven finest cloth for the
. altars, and bordered them with lace of
making. Lizette resolved
altar-
their own
Now she pushed the door open and
looker] shrinkingly about. There was
only stillness and peace within, and
the Virgin with the Child in her arms.
It seemed she was waiting for Lizette.
With a little sob, swept by a wave of
emotion that laid bare all her heart,
the girl went forward and fell on her
knees, throwing back the hood from
| her head.
Her face was now revealed, as
though for the pitiful eyes of the Vir-
gin to see. On one side it was the
beautiful face Pierre Bernay hunger-
ed for day and night: on the other it
was furrowed across by the crimson
scars the fire had made.
The starry eyes,
‘must not be frightened; she must
vpraised, over- |
flowed with tears; the lips quivered in !
their supplications:
faith, that a miracle of Little
may be wrought upon me!
Noel
“Grant to me!
Have pity |
upon me and restore me for Pierre's
return!”
How often she had pictured that re-
turn—the leap of her lover’s eves to!
her face, their horrified turning away;
for she had begged the cure to write
no hint of her disfigurement.
would have no pretense, she who had
She !
throbbed and glowed under the long
caress of Pierre's
gaze. If he could |
not bear to look upon her, she must |
know it. It would be better than find-
ing out little by little.
as she feared, she would go away.
If it should be !
She had a cousin who worked on a!
farm in the rich country to the east. |
Perhaps she could find the place; it |
did not much matter.
Suddenly Lizette realized that these
thoughts were intruding themselves
upon her devotion; that fear and fore-
boding were driving out the faith she
longed for. She began to pray again,
and little by little her heart grew still
within her. It was as though a light
broke softly and grew; there was no
room left for fear.
In the church, meantime, the dusk
had been gathering. Lizette, when
she rose to her feet, could just see the
face of the Child. It was in honor of
his birthday the cares had been made;
for the sake of the little Jesus, who
had come to heal the sicknesses and
sorrows of the world.
For some minutes Lizette stood
there. Then she remembered the
Mere Bernay, sitting all alone, with
the fire dying on the hearth, and she | zette,
But the crushing | her, went on toward him. Then
She | ping suddenly, ske lifted her hands |
hurried away.
weight was gone from her heart.
have faith. It was faith that would
make the miracle possible.
So Lizette came to the church after
the others, and slipped into a dim cor-
ner. Nevertheless,
and peered curiously.
Among these
was Mere Fouchard.
Like all the
rest, she had heard that Pierre Ber-
nay rzturned tomorrow.
Lizette scarcely heard the hymns or |
the sermon. She sat like one tranced,
waiting. Her rosary slipped through
her fingers, and her pale lips moved.
She tried to think of the words of the
prayers, and she tried not to see Pier-
re’s eyes as they leaped to her face.
Beyond her meeting with Pierre
everything was a blank.
The mass was over, and Lizette was
on her way home. The others had
lingered to sing the Christmas carols
and to exchange greetings; but Li-'
zette had slipped out quickly, and
went alone through the fog. She held
her cloak tight about her with both
hands. At first it had been all she
could do not to touch her face, but
that temptation had passed. She did
not even think of it; she knew she
would wait for Pierre’s coming.
But the reaction after the long
strain had set in. She felt a great
weariness; she would have liked to
creep away into the wood and cry like
a little child. But she stumbled on
through the fog, came to the cottage, ;
and lay down on her bed.
Then it was morning, and the mist
was lifting and drifting away. It
drifted away in trailing veils, cling-
ing to everything it passed. But Li-
zette looked at the mist only a few
moments; she had to make herself
ready for Pierre’s coming.
She watched for him from the win-
dow where she sat when she made her
lace, and the mist rose as though to
let her see as far down the road as
possible. She could not have said
whether she believed herself healed. |
There was a sort of blankness in her |
head, Yet she knew she was suffer-
ing supreme suspense. Now and again
the anguish of it pierced through the
blankress; but it was only for a mo-
ment, or she could not Lave borne it.
Then a figure came into sight at the
farthest point of the road she ‘could
see. She rose instantly; she knew it
was Pierre. His tall figure, his eager
gait—how often she had seen him
coming thus to tke cottage! But now
her heart seemed to stop, and she felt
she would never get to the door: nev-
er put on her cloak, and pull her hood
over her head. She held the hood
tight about her face as she went.
When Pierre saw her coming he
stood perfectly still, his head lifted
up. It was as though his very long-
ing, the piercing delight of her near-
ness, had fixed him there. And Li-
stop-
walked with light steps, and looked up | and threw back the hood from her
at the stars, which were beginning to | face.
come out in the sky.
Every day now Lizette prayed in ' before Lizette’s there came a swim- |
i
Ah, the leap of Pierre’s eyes! But
the church, but nec one who saw her | ming blackness; the earth seemed to
pass guessed at what was in her
heart. It may be, however, that Pier-
re’s mother knew;
things that no one ever told her.
|
rise up and the trees to rush past her.
She tried te speak, she tried to see:
she knew many | then the deadly struggling ceased.
She found herself in Pierre’s arms.
Sometimes when Lizette came in with | His eyes were on her face. Their Inve
that light on her face the old woman | enveloped her and drew her close—
would look at her with eyes which
seemed to understand.
When the time came for her to
make the nine-days’ prayer, Lizette
went to her devotions both morning
|
{
closer than ever before. It was like
something in which she herself lost
herself. She lay still, looking up at
him.
“Lizette,” he whispered brokenly.
and evening, and so absorbed was she | He put his face down against hers,
that the fire often died on the hearth, | “My brave, beautiful Lizette!”
and Pierre’s mother shivered as she
sat beside it. But it was on the last
day of her waiting that the girl knelt
|
|
|
i
Tears sprang to her eyes; an in-
credible happiness flooded her being.
“It is the miracle of Little Noel,”
longest in the little church. When | she whispered.
she came again it would be for the
midnight mass; she hardly dared to
think further than that. The old fear
seemed to be hovering near, threaten-
ing to seize her.
|
She sought shelter |
from it in her prayers: she even tried !
to forget a certain resolve she had
made, lest it argue lack of faith. This
resolve was that Pierre’s eyes should
be the first to rest upen her after the
midnight mass. She would neither
look in her glass nor touch her face
with her fingers. His eyes, and his
alone, should tell her wether the mir-
acle had been performed.
Pierre had written again, saying
that he would come early on Christ-
mas morning. In a few hours he
would be on his way, walking from
Lisieux to a little inn where he slept.
But long before dawn he would start
again, and be with her soon after the
sun was up. She was glad that Mere
Bernay lay in bed until late. She
wished to watch for Pierre alone.
That evening she told the old wom-
an that they would eat the reveillon
before mass. “You would be too wea-
ry if you waited for my return,” she
said; but the true reason lay in her
resolve that Pierre should be the first
to see her face after the midnight
mass.
The reveillon may be spread either
before or after that mass. Lizette
brought out the roasted chestnuts
soaked in wine and the little cakes.
Her heart was suddenly light and gay.
She made Mere Bernay put her shoes
on the hearth, ready for gifts; then
Lizette put out one of her own beside
them, and next te that she put the
other of the pair for her lover. *
The gifts were in readiness; the
cottage wore a festive air. Branches
of laurel and pine were fastened over
the fireplace, and the vessels of cop-
per and brass twinkled in the light of
the yule log. Pere Fouchard had
brought the log in that morning. He
was as kind as his wife was shrewish.
When the feast was eaten and Pier-
re’s mother was in bed, Lizette made
herself ready to go to church. With
greater care than ever she hid her
face in the hood of her cloak; then she
lighted her lantern and stepped out
into the white mist, which seemed to
open to receive her. The frosty road
crackled beneath her feet, and the
branches of the trees waved ghostly
arms on each side.
The mist was like a delicate veil,
entwining everything. Lizette knew
that the little precession of village
folk had already passed on its way to
the church. She had heard them sing-
ing a few minutes before as they
went; but she had not wished to join
them. .
Now that she was on her way, she
realized that her gaiety had deserted
her, that she felt frightened. But she
6
Pierre paid no heed. He seemed
not to care about her meaning; he
cared only for her. Raising Yer to
her feet, he supported her with his
arm. He gazed in her face as though
his hunger for it coula never he ap-
|. pased; and at last he put one hand
beneath her chin and tarned her head
gently to one side.
“This is the Lizztte I left,” he said
—“the Lizette whose beautiful face
made me forget her scul. I loved her
as a man loves a woman when both
are young.”
He stopped, and then he turned Li-
zette’s face so that his eyes rested
upon the side which had been burned.
“And this—” He broke off; when
he could speak again, his voice had a
hushed, exquisite note—“and this,” he
said, “is the Lizeite I never knew. It
is the wonderful, beautiful soul of Li-
zette. When we are old and our bod-
ies have changed, still I shall always
see your brave, tender, beautiful
soul.”
But Lizette, with a low ery, had
pushed him from her. She put a hand
to her face.
“The burns!” she gasped. “I feel
the burns!”
Pierre siezed her hands in his. He
drew her to him, kissing the scars
again and again.
“My Lizette,” he whispered, “I did
not know before what iove was—this
love of soul and body!”
And Lizette, raising her head,
clasped her hands together.
“It is the miracle of Little Noel,”
she said.—By Virginia Yeaman Rem-
nitz, in The Century Magazine.
semi
“GOD REST YE.”
God rest ye, merry gentlemen, let nothing
you dismay,
For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was born
on Christmas Day;
The dawn rose red on Bethlehem,
stars shone thro’ the gray,
‘When Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was horn
on Christmas Day.
the
God rest ye, little children, let nothing
you affright,
For Jesus Christ, your Savior,
this happy night;
Along the hills of Galilee the white flocks
sleeping lay,
When Christ, the Child of Nazareth, was
born on Christmas Day.
was born
God rest ye, all good Christians; upon
this blessed morn
The Lord of all gocd Christians was of a
woman born;
Now all your sorrows He doth heal, your
sins He takes away,
For Jesus Christ, your Saviour, was born
on Christmas Day.
D. M. Muloch.
——Subseribe for the “Watchman”.
several saw her |
her knees trembling beneath
Why Take A
Town Inventory.
The Chautauqua Reading Hour.
DR. WILLIAM BYRON FORBUSH, Editor.
An inventory is the prime requisite
to taking up any new busniess sue-
cessfully. You would not buy a store
or a factory, you would not engage a
furnished house, you would not under-
take to teach a school or to take over
a merical practice, until you knew
what was in it, what you were getting
for your money. You need to know in
what condition your future possession
is, or what it needs before it gets into
good con:lition, b:fore you go to work.
It is possible to get along without
it. A civic improvement society ean
Sow a grass-piot and put up a sign
telling people to get off it, a commer- |
cial club may put up a big placard at
the railroad station telling strangers !
to come to town and get free building
lots and no taxes for factories, a
woman’s club can orna: nent the street
corners with green boxes to hold lit-
ter, and yet none of them may reach
deep into the town’s needs or have a
‘job big enough to interest earnest
| citizens in keeping up the work.
But when you know what you have
got and haven’t got, you know just
what vou need. It is easy to go around
| beating the drums of local pride about
| the town’s pet advantages, but’ just
{ as soon as you have discovered that
; you are ages behind your rival town
, of the same size in a matter that is °
| burg has been secured by the Srow
| perfectly easy to remedy, that you
| are ages behind all decent towns of
| your size in a matter that vitally af-
{ fects public health, you have the chal-
| lenge of a task big enough to keep the
, whole town busy for a while.
What Inventories Have Discovered.
Springfield, Illinois, was the home
and contains the tomb of Abraham
Lincoln. It is a good town, as towns
go. It meant weil. It had its civie
improvement societies, and it was jog-
ging along in a comfortable and on
the whole, progressive way. But all of
a sudden somebedy decided that it
would be a gocd thing to know
Springfield better, to plan for better-
ment without so much guess-work.
So experts were sent for and Spring-
field sat down to study itself.
The survey of Springfield is very
interesting. At one or two places it
, became startling. There had been
more or less typhoid about. People
did not think much of it. Eevery city
‘has a little. Four millions
spent by the city for waetr works and
sewers, and the water was frequently
. domestic use. The inventory showed
however, that the mortality from ty-
phoid was 52 per 100,000 and had been
‘as high as 80. Some cities had but
20. What was the matter?
| Many people were still using wells.
| The water of 150 of them was exam-
"ined, and all but three were found to |
be dangerously polluted. Six thousand
wells were found, “the pollution of
which was guaranteed by 7060 privy
vaults.”
The next year after these homes
were connected with the city water
the mortality from typhoid went down
into the twenties, instead of fifties |
| and eighties per 100,000.
i Saving Babies.
We are not so heathenish about
blaming the deaths of babies upon
; Providence as we once were, yet we,
i have gotten into the habit of expect-
, ing that about so many will die any-
i way, not realizing that the medical
{ideal is that every baby safely born:
i ought to live to grow up. In this
same Springfield the deaths, the sum- |
mer after they cleaned up their milk
i supply, from infantile diarrhoea were
' reduced one-third. They saved twen- |
ty-seven babies from death. If it had |
been your baby you would have been
glad.
In every town there
defect that people like to cover up.
| In one town it was their shanties, and
| the day they had a great civic celebra-
| tion they built a high fence in front of
| them—instead of tearing them down.
"In another town it was the onen gar-
! bage pails, and they passed an ordi-
| nance that they should be kept in the
| alleys instead of on the street curb!
But there are towns that think it
pays to know. They won’t fend off
calamity by hiding their heads in the
sand. They want the town to be clean,
and not merely look clean.
An Inventory is Good Business.
Surveys have got a klack eye in this
country because unscrupulous news-
mongers have bruited abroad merely
the destructive side. But a town ‘n-
ventory is above all things construec-
tive. It should reveal many pleasant
facts; it should give new material for
town advertising. It will set people
to work to do what needs to be done,
and when they do that the town pros-
vers. In Springfield real estate men
soon began to advertise their property
on its sanitary merits, and “sanita-
tion took on a commercial value.”
The best way to take a town inven-
tory is the cheapest. Even a small
town can afford it. The method is
not essentially different from the way
one would take the inventory of an
estate. Appraisers are needed. under
the guidance of a chief appraiser who
is something of an expert. The citi-
zens may he their own appraisers.
They may unite cheerfully, for it is
not an inquest; pleasantly, for it is
not a muck-racking expedition; seri-
ously, for they don’t want to lose the
facts by being partial or superficial.
A good challenge with which to
start is this motto: “We want ours to
be a 100 per cent. Town; we intend to
find how near that it is now.”
Ventilators.
is some one
The question of proper ventilation
during the winter months is one
which it is quite difficult for many
people to solve.
It is apparent to almost everybody
that the admission of pure air is nec-
essary if efficient work is to be per-
formed in office and school and if re-
freshing sleep is desired by night.
The fresh air does not depend upon
the temperature and can be supplied
by a proper heating and ventilating
system.
had been
examined and always found safe for!
com—
The opening ¢f windows while it
admits the fresh air, often causes
drafts which are uncomfortable, not
to say injurious. Where a number of
people are occupied in a room it is
often a cause of subjecting one or two
to exposure if the windows are open-
ed to secure ventiiation. This can be
avoided by an ample supply of warm-
ed air.
Numerous devices, more or 1235 ex-
pensive. have been placed on the mar-
ket but are not always satisfactory:
The most economical and at the same
time probably the most efficient venti-
lating device is one made of glass or
wood eight or ten inches in height and
' made the width of the sash. This
should be placed under the sash with
a slant from the bottom to the tor at
an angle of 45 degrees, leaving an
opening at the top covered with cheese
cloth.
Ventilators of this sort are so sim-
ple that they can be made at small
cost anywhere and the covering can
| be readily replaced. They are suita-
ble for office and school room, living
rooms and bed rooms. They permit
reasonable ventilation without too
| great a loss of heat and prevent that
| stuffiness of atmospbere which is
dangerous to health and destructive to
| real comfort during the winter
| months. This device leaves an open-
| ing batween the upper and lower sash
through which the used air of the
room may escape.
Centre County Y. W. C. A. Notes.
A free traveling library from the
State Library Department at Harris-
Shoe branch, and placed in “Commu-
nity Hall” for the use of the gencral
public. Mrs. S. M. Robison is the li-
brarian.
A physical standard contest, open
to all girls and young women of the
county will be conducted in January
cr February. A banner is to be pre-
sented to the club or organization
having the highest score. Any Sun-
day school class, day school, ete., may
compete. Recognition will also be
given for the highest individual score.
Watch the papers for fuller announce-
ments. ,
Are you learning the poems as they
come out, or clipping them for future
reference? All who read the bnoks
and learn the pcems will receive a
national certificate. Get in line.
Here is the rest of the poem that was
published in part last week:
THE HOUSE BY THE SIDE OF
THE ROAD.
i 1 know there are brook-giaddened mead-
ows ahead,
And mountains of wearisome height ;
That the road passes cn through tke long
| afternoon
And stretches away to the night.
And still I rejoice when the travellers re-
joice
And weep with the strangers that moan,
Nor live in my house ny the side of the
road
Like a man who dwells alone.
i Let me live in my house by the side of the
; road,
! Where the race of men go by—
' They are good, they are bad,
| weak, they are strong,
i Wise, foolish,—so am I.
Then why should I sit in
! seat,
Or hurl the cynie’s ban?
Let me live in my house by the side of the
road
And be a friend to man.
—Sam Walter Foss.
The “Dolly Dimple” club at Oak
Hall is making scrap-books to send to
| the hospital for Christmas.
| Everybody attend the annual meet-
| ing of the Centre county Y. W. C. A.,
in Bellefonte, Saturday, January 12th.
they are
the scorner’'s
BIRTHS.
i Shuey—On November 2nd, to Mr.
land Mrs. Willis F. Shuey, of Spring
township, a son. :
Witmer—On November 8th, to Mr.
{and Mrs. Paul S. Witmer, of Spring
| township, a son, William Wadsworth
Witmer.
Weaver—On November 4th, to Mr.
and Mrs. Merl Weaver, of Spring
township, a daughter.
| Zimmerman—On November 18th, to
| Mr. and Mrs. Roy Zimmerman, of
{ Spring township, a son, Carl Frank-
| lin Zimmerman. ;
| Montgomery—On November 20th,
{to Mr. and Mrs. Henry F. Montgom-
ery, of Bellefonte, a daughter, Marga-
ret Elizabeth Montgomery.
Shivery—On November 22nd, to
Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Shivery, of
Benner township, a daughter.
Steele—On September 9th, to Mr.
and Mrs. David V. Steele, of Belle-
fonte, a son, Harry Wilson Steele.
Showers—On November 24th, to
Mr. and Mrs. George Showers, of
Spring township, a daughter.
Clevenstine—On November 24th, to
Mr. and Mrs. William Clevenstine, of
Spring township, a son, James Clev-
enstire.
Grove—On November 9th, to Mr.
and Mrs. Rey Grove, of Bellefonte, a
daughter.
Emerick—On November 30th, to
Mr. and Mrs. William Emerick, of
Bellefonte, a son, Paul Richard Em-
erick.
Billett—On November 30th, to Mr.
and Mrs. W. L. Billett, of Spring
township, a son, Miles Hunter Billett.
Daley—On December 9th, to Mr.
and Mrs. Clarence Daley, of Belle-
fonte, a daughter.
Opportunities of Special Privilege.
From the Altoona Mirror.
John D. Archbold started life as an er-
rand boy. He saved his money and went in-
to the oil business. By aggressiveness,
energy and sticktoitiveness he became
the most dominant figure in a great in-
dustry, next to John D. Rockefeller.
His success should prove an inspiration
to boys. The opportunities are to be
found on every hand.
i
A ——
SEND SIGNALS UNDER WATER
Inventors Claim to Have Brought
Wonderful Isstrument Almost
to Pitch of Perfection.
Submarine signaling for the protec.
tion of shipping, and other uses of the
submarine telegraph oscillator are dis-
cussed by Mr. R. F. Blake, an Amer-
ican electrical engineer, in the Smith.
sonian annual report.
The author reports some interesting
trials of this electrically operated os-
cillator which vibrates under water;
both sending and receiving signals,
and claims that it has been tested sue-
cessfully, transmitting signals over 20
miles, and operating as an underwater
telephone for 400 to S00 yards.
Among the invaluable uses enumer-
ated are signaling in fogs and between
submarines; direct communication be-
tween commanders of ships within
short distance of each other; location
of bell buoys; as a means of sounding,
and possibly as a means of directing
or steering torpedoes by sound.
Mr. Blake remarks that the oscilla.
tor represents an important step for.
ward in the science of navigation,
making it possible to surround the
coasts with a wall of sound so that
no ship can get into dangerous waters
without receiving a warning, and
eliminating collisions between ships,
except through negligence.
He asserts that indications point
out that it will be of great service in
locating icebergs and securing sound-
ings from ships running at full speed.
Mr. Blake says that for naval pur-
poses it provides an auxiliary means
of short distance signaling, available
at all times, which cannot be shot
away, and that it widens the possibil-
ities of submarine boats to an extent
beyond our presem grasp.
HAD LONG LIST OF TROUBLES
And Woman Reported Them All to Un.
fortunate Listener in the Tele-
phone Department.
The family had not had their tele.
phone very long, says the Southwestern
Telephone News, and everyone took a
deep and abiding interest in it. On
the outside of the directory they had
noted the words, “Trouble, call No.
4217.”
It had been a hard morning and ev-
erything had gone wrong. Finally the
lady of the house in desperation turned
to her trusty telephone and called 4217.
“This is the trouble department,” an-
swered the operator sweetly.
“Is this where you report your trou-
bles?” asked the lady.
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Well, I only want to report that our
cat got drowned in the cistern this
morning. the baby is cutting a new
tooth, the cook left without warning ;
we are out of sugar and starch; the
stovepipe fell down; the milkman left
only a pint instead of a quart today ;
the bread won't raise; my oldest child
—
is coming cown with the measles; the
plumbing in the cellar leaks; we have
only enough coal to last through to-
morrow ; the paint gave out when I got
only half over the dining room floor;
the mainspring of the clock is broken;
my three sisters-in-law are coming to
visit tomorrow ; the man has not called
for the garbage for two weeks; our
dog has the mange; the looking glass
fell off the wall a while ago and broke
to pieces; and I think that my husband
is taking considerable notice of a wid-
ow lately that lives next door. That's
all today, but if anything happens later
I'll call you up and tell you about it.”
Freighter Unloads Quickly.
About midsummer the Italian cargo
boat Milazzo, undoubtedly the largest
freighter on the seas, completed its
maiden voyage from Naples to New
York. The vessel is of special inter-
est because of its remarkable unload-
ing facilities, which enable its 14,000-
ton cargo to be discharged within for-
ty-eight hours. It is particularly de-
signed for the transportation of grain
and coal, but because of current condi-
tions is now carrying a general cargo.
The ship is 512 feet in length, 65.9 feet
across the beam and when loaded dis-
places 20,040 tons. Its single screw is
turned by a 4,000-horse power quadru-
ple expansion engine. The ship's un-
loading equipment is its most wonder-
ful feature according to Popular Me-
chanics Magazine.
Take Cut-Worms in Traps.
California farmers have discovered
that cut-worms which so ravage their
beets and other vegetables are hatched
from eggs laid by a moth which flies
at night and like all moths is attract-
ed by light. A special trap has been
devised for its eradication. The trap
includes an electric light supported on
a platform. Beneath the light is a
pan of oil into which the moths fall
after dashing up against the light. As
many as 7,000 of these moths have
been caught in such a trap in a single
night. Most of them were egg-carry-
ing females, so their destruction mate-
rially checks the increase of the cut-
worm,
Caught in the Act.
At the chamber of ccmmerce the
other day was sportsman’s day and
the chairman for the cccasion bragged
of the surpassing truthfulness of Spo-
kane sportsmen. “There,” he said,
pointing to an enormous fish labeled as
captured in Spokane river, “is ocular
evidence that Spokane fishermen don’t
lie about their catches. The angler
who caught that fish will stand up
and be introduced to the audience.”
At once a baker's dozen of Spokane
sportsmen leaped to their feet, while
the true hero sat still and silent—
Spokane Spokesman-Review.
ud