Yr
Demorraiic atm
Bellefonte, Pa., June 29, 1917.
cm ——
HELP TO HOOK THE KAISER.
If you're a husky, healthy lad
And looking for some action,
I think the strife of army life
Will give you satisfaction.
CHORUS:
Yankee Doodle, be a man,
Not a temporizer;
Give your aid to Uncle Sam
So he can “hook der Kaiser.”
Perhaps your feet are on the blink
And you have broken arches;
'Twould cause you much distress and such
On long and weary marches.
Yankee Doodle, be a neat -
Submarine capsizer;
Join the coast mosquito fleet
And help to “hook der Kaiser.”
You say you're rather underweight
And cannot stand the water?
Your lack of weight should be a great
Advantage, so it ougiter.
Yankee Doodle, stay ashore,
Be an early riser;
Try the aviation corps
And help to “hook der Kaiser.”
Well, what's the diff if you can’t see
A thing without your glasses ?
You've got a chance to raise some plants
And feed the warlike masses.
Yankee Doodle, grab a hoe,
Get some fertilizer;
Make the spuds and onions grow
And they will “hook der Kaiser.”
If you can't stoop to till the soil
Because of your lumbago,
You lazy slob, we'll give the job
To some ditch-digging dago.
Yankee Doodle, please respond;
Never be a miser.
Go aud buy a Liberty Bond \
And strafe the bloomin’ Kaiser.
—J. B. SPRAGUE,
THE TOLL-GATHERER.
The fall rains had undermined a
section of the track and played mis-
chief with a quarter of a mile of em-
bankment. What was more serious,
the hill stream, which had risen like
the Ganges at flood time, had weaken-
ed two piers and the retaining walls of
the railway bridge. Doucy,
company’s civil engineers,
sent up posthaste from Delhi to re-
pair the damage. He was to get the
day laborers from the village three or
four miles down the valley. They had
helped in building the road and there-
fore could be relied -apcn.
Doucy found the job bigger than he
had expected. The wrecked embank-
ment did not present unusual difficul-
ties, but the repairing of the stone-
work was a more serious matter. Un-
der the pressure of the seething flood,
the big scows that held the workmen
were continually slipping their cables,
and either taking a few tons of water
aboard at a gulp or sinking altogeth-
er. Then the donkey engine had to
had been
fish out as many of the stout blocks
as its grappling hooks could seize and
yank up the scow. The men clinging
to the network of life ropes below the
bridge had to be rescued and indvrced
to attempt the dangerous work again;
all of which used up valuable tire.
As the camp was large, it was nec-
essary to send a bullock cart to the
village every other day for rice, mea-
lie flour, and other food supplies.
During the second week one of the
carts did not return. The next day a
foreman who had gone to investigate
found it in the road with a broken-
necked bullock hetween its shafts.
Some twenty or thirty yards from the
rim of the bank that ran along the
roadside lay all that was left of the
driver. The spoor of a large tiger led
off into the jungle, but Doucy and his
trackers failed to run the beast down.
Several days later the tragedy was re-
peated. Another dead bullock lay in
the red dust almost at the same point
where the first had been killed. At
the tail of the cart was the driver’s
empty gun; the body of the driver
was found under a tangle of flowering
creepers.
Doucy ordered a goat and its kid to
be tethered on the bank, and that
night and the night after he took
watch on a platform built in the
branches of an adjacent tree. But the
tiger did not appear. As he had to
keep himself fit for his work, the en-
gineer let one of his assistants take
his place in the tree on the following
nights. Meanwhile the cart was sent
out with a bodyguard of four picked
men besides the driver, and thus es-
corted, it made several trips without
mishap.
The coolies began to snap their fin-
gers when the toll-gatherer, as they
dubbed the tiger, was mentioned. He
was a coward, they declared. He
could overpower a driver asleep on
his cart, but his heart failed him when
it came to facing several armed men.
They would burn his whiskers on the
camp coals yet if he did not look out.
Suddenly, however, a mad bullock
cart came spinning into the camp with
the ashen-faced driver crouching
among its rice bags. All the others
had been killed and eaten, he declar-
ed; only his own extraordinary cour-
age had saved his life. The attack
had come like a bolt from the blue
sky, and no vigilance could have fore-
stalled it. Presently three of the cs-
cort, dusty and covered with sweat,
came running into camp; the fourth
had been killed. The survivors all
agred that everyone had been brave
and that the toll-gatherer was invul-
nerable.
Everyone realized now that this
was an unusually determined man-
eater. The coolies refused to drive
the supply cart, and were almost
ready to break camp in a body. Doucy
saw that he must himself get rid of
the toll-gatherer if he wished to re-
tain his workmen.
He made his arrangements with
some ingenuity. Out of some brown
cloth and a frame-work of bamboo he
put together a figure that wken stuff-
ed with grass was a fair imitation of
a man. He wound a dirty turban
round its head, added clippings from
the tail of his horse for hair, and
roped the thing to the seat of the cart.
The following day he got into the
one of the |
body of the cart with his rifle and
| drove to the village.
| Nothing happened on that trip or
the next, but Doucy did not give up.
On the third trip he kept as close a
: watch as ever, and was particularly
careful on his way back from the vil-
!lage. It was a very hot afternoon.
! The groaning and squeaking of the
_unoiled wooden wheels were the only
sounds to break the heavy silence.
! The red dust eddied up round the cart
in clouds. Doucy occasionally lifted
| his head wearily to scan the surround-
ings, but all he could sec was a red
shimmer of heat waves melting into
a brassy glare of sunlight. The decoy
| sat vacillating on its seat with its tur-
: baned head bowed forward in the ex-
| act manrer of a sleepy driver. The
dummy had been greased with cocoa-
nut oil and well manhancled to make
[it “smell right;” it seemed lifelike
enough to deceive a hungry tiger.
Doucy lay face down in his nest
"tle except his khaki-covered back in
| view. As they neared the edge of the
ridge he heard a peculiar sound like
| a passing gust of air; it was followed |
' by an almost noiseless but very jar- |
| ring shock. He threw up his head in
time to see the decoy, torn loose from
its fastenings, in the clutch of a huge
tiger. The pair instantly rolled from
dashed straight at the bank. In
desperate terror it actually scaled the
lower part of the slope; but perceiv-
ing that it could not escape in that di-
rection, it wheeled again sharply. The
| quick turn tipped over the badly bal-
| anced cart; it came down like a box
i on Doucy and the provision bags.
All this happened in half a dozen
| seconds. Doucy had hardly realized
| his position when he heard a moan-
| ing bellow from the bullock, and knew
| that the tiger had grappled it.
| Pinned on his back between the pro-
| vision bags, Doucy felt the toll-gath-
| erer give the dead bullock a tug that
| made the solid cart quiver; but the
| harness held. The tiger was puzzled,
and for the first time he snarled. The
sound was powerful and murderous.
Then the tiger started to circle the
Ei to sce what the matter was.
| When he had gone half way around,
| his footfalls ceased, and Doucy heard
' his heart pumping and thudding in
| the ghastly silence.
Then he became aware that one of
the tiny chinks between the bags no
longer showed a thread of sunlight.
| Something had blocked it. He knew
what it was before he heard the deep,
| raucous intake of air with which the
| tiger drank the odor of human flesh.
| Doucy struggled to reach the rifle
lying under his feet. The toll-gather-
er tore at the obstructions. With a
dry and horrible sound his claws rip-
ped one of the bags.
As the great paw gutted it of its
contents, Doucy felt the bag loosen;
then it collapsed like a deflated bal-
loon and the cart settled a little on
that side. It relieved his cramped po-
sition just enough to enable him to
grasp his rifle. He instantly thrust
the muzzle under the edge of the cart.
He had not a second to waste and,
with the butt of his rifle pressed to
his side, fired where he knew the beast
must be. The answering roar of the
tiger showed that he had been hit; but
he was not crippled, for he threw him-
self upon the cart and with great fu-
ry tried to tear away the side with his
teeth. Failing in that, he pushed his
paw under the edge of the cart, and
his unsheathed claws, sweeping fierce-
ly through the low opening, narrowly
missed Doucy’s face.
Doucy aimed again instantly and
fired. The toll-gatherer gave another
roar that ended in a deep, gurgling
cough that told of a wound through
the lungs. Doucy heard a heavy
thrashing sound and a rattling of
gravel against the side of the cart.
Then everything was as still as death
except for the pounding of his own
heart.
Bathed with sweat and half stifled
by the close, hot air under the cart,
he waited a long time. There was no
sound outside except the buzzing of
hundreds of flies about the bullock.
At last Doucy began to push away
the dirt under the edge of the cart
with the butt of his rifle, and when he
had scooped a shallow trench he cau-
tiously stuck out his head.
Directly in front of him and a little
below him, with ears laid back and
body gathered in a tense crouch like
a cat at a rat hole, was the toll-gath-
erer. His mouth was open, and Dou-
cy saw that his fangs, which at one
time must have been unusually large,
were broken and decayed like those of
most man-eaters. de aimed his rifle
at the knot of frowning muscles be-
tween the fierce eyes, and was about
to pull the trigger when the tiger
leaped.
But the effort was too much for the
wounded beast. Just as Doucy shifted
his aim and fired he saw the great
body crumpled in mid-air. It fell only
a few feet beyond where it had been
crouching as limp as a rag. The toll-
gatherer had made his last leap.
Doucy crawled out from under the
cart and cut off the stiff, black bristles
from the fixed, snarling lips. The
coolies would burn them on the camp
coals that night with impressive cer-
emony. Doucy was a thoroughly
practical man, but he knew the native
superstitions had to be considered.
Probably the men would spoil a half
day of work by dragging the tiger in-
to camp the next morning and holding
a triumph over the body. At any
rate, the road was open again; the
toll-gatherer would collect no more
tolls.—The Youth’s Companion.
DOING YOUR BIT.
A little spade, a little hoe,
A barrel of spuds that ought to grow;
Some hard work in a broiling sun,
In planting spudlets one by one.
© Some blistering hands quite raw and
sore,
And bones that ache right to the core;
But still your soul with joy is lit,
For now you feel you've done your bit.
But then alack the weeks roll round,
And still your garden’s barren ground;
And then you know, and know full
well—
That statement’s true—this war is hell.
e—————
—The big orang-outang goes to bed
at sundown and refuses to see visitors
after dusk. He is also an early riser.
the cart, and the bullock wheeled and | "Gumshoe Bill” Stone in the Senate
its |
LIFE OF MAJOR GENERAL PER- Francisco. Two years ago a terrible
SHING.
For the first time in history the
United States will send a force of
troops for military purposes to Eu-
rope, and to “Black Jack” Pershing,
youngest of the major generals, has
fallen the distinction of commanding
this expeditionary division.
“Black Jack” Pershing, as the men
of the rank and file know the com-
mander of the Department of the
South, is the type of the soldier which
Frederic Remington immortalized in
his pictures of the Indian campaigns.
Lean but rugged, his six feet and bet-
ter every inch bone and muscle, he
typifies the ideal cavalry officer.
has been hardened by field service aad
has been broadened in executive ser /-
ice by several difficult posts in the
Philippines. He cares little for swiv-
el chairs and desks, but he dotes on
boots and saddles, and in his Mexican
between the bags, and with very lit-! ] Ci
expedition he took his troops ahcad
with such dash and efficiency that his
command won the unstinted praise of
foreign officers.
General Pershing is fifty-three
years old and his honors came with a
rush during the last sixteen vears.
Born in Laclede, Linn county, Mo., it
| is fitting that President Wilson should
shame the pacifist tendencies of
and the anti-conscription proelivities
of. Speaker Champ Clark in the House
| by taking his first commanding otiicer
to lead a force abroad from the “Show-
Me” State. Pershing was appointed
to West Point in 1882, and four years
later was graduated as senior cadet
captain, the highest honors which can
come to any undergraduate of the mil-
itary academy.
Pershing had no time, upon gradua-
tion, for any army post social activi-
ties and play time. The wily old Ge-
ronimo, chief of the terrible Apaches,
was giving the Great White Father
plenty of trouble, and among the reg-
iments sent in pursuit was the Sixth
United States cavalry, of which Sec-
ond Lieutenant Pershing was a “cub.”
He rode hard and soldiered much in
the next ten years, chasing the In-
dians over Southwest, and on one oc-
casion showed the stuff that was go-
ing to win for him in the later years.
He marched his troop, with a pack
train, 140 miles in forty-six hours.
General Miles paid him a fine tribute
for this feat, and pointed to the fact
that Lieut. Pershing “had brought
in every man and animal in good con-
dition.”
The man who will lead the division
to France fought Apaches and Sioux
Indians until the militaristic Poor Lo
gave up the unequal fight and became
pacific again. For seven years Lieut.
Pershing never knew a promotion, but
in 1893 he was raised to the rank of
first lieutenant. He was assigned to
the Tenth cavalry, the crack negro
command that afterward won fame at
the San Juan blockhouse. Because of
the fact that he was appointed to the
colored troop he earned the sobriquet
of “Black Jack,” which has stuck to
him since. ;
The young officer applied himself to
a study of tactics, an application which
has since resulted in the acknowledg-
ment of Pershing as the best strate-
gist in the regular army. Such be-
came his reputation even then that he
was assigned to West Point as an in-
structor on this subject. He did not
vegetate above the Hudson long for
the war with Spain broke out and Per-
shing applied instantly for a place
with the negro Tenth. His command
was shipped to Cuba among the first
troops of that expeditionary force,
and he distinguished himself in the
field. His colonel termed him “the
bravest and coolest man he ever saw
under fire,” while at the battle of El
Caney Pershing was promoted to cap-
tain for signal gzllantry in action.
When the war ended President Mec-
Kinley gave Captain Pershing a berth
as the head of the customs and insu-
lar affairs in the War Department.
Pershing tired of the endless routine
and was anxious to get back to the
battle line again. So he asked to be
sent to the Philippines, where the lit-
tle brown men were cutting up rough
with the nephews of their adopted
Uncle Samuel. So to Mindanao Per-
shing went as adjutant general of
that department.
Active command of the expedition
to subjugate these tribesmen was fi-
nally given to Captain Pershing, and
after months of applied diplomacy and
bullets he brought them into subjec-
tion. He was made military Governor
of Mindanao, and showed such execu-
tive foresight and prescience in his
dealings with the natives thdt the
Moros chose Pershing to be a datto,
or ruler.
About a vear before Colonel Roose-
velt, then President, addressed Con-
gress on the ever recurring question
of promotions in the army and navy.
The promotions usually went by sen-
jority, and the caste in the army was
jealous of this tradition. Roosevelt,
in a memorable message to Congress
on December 7, 1903, wanted the sen-
jority rule abridged, and specifically
mentioned Captain Pershing as-a gal-
lant and distinguished officer who was
held back by a traditicn that worked
havoe and harm to the men who might
have ben.
In the gallery during the reading of
this message was Miss Frances War-
ren, the daughter of United States
Senator Francis E. Warren, of Wyom-
ing. She followed the message close-
ly, and when leaving the Capitol de-
clared that she would like to meet the
officer who merited such commenda-
tion by the President. She evidently
lost no time about it, for less than
two years afterward the warrior and
the Senator’s daughter were married.
In 1906 President Roosevelt cut the
Gordian knot in his characteristic
manner. He jumped Captain Persh-
ing over the heads of 862 officers, his
seniors in rank and service, creating
Pershing a brigadier general.
Pershing was sent to Japan as mil-
itary attache, remaining there a num-
ber of years, and returned to the Unit-
ed States in time to be sent to the
Philippines to quell another Filipino
insurrection. The pacified Moros had
rebelled, but Pershing subjugated
them, capturing a force of 7000 and
ending the rebellion.
Upon his return to the United States
General Pershing was assigned to
command the Eighth Brigade, with
headquarters at the Presidio, near San
| tragedy wrecked his happiness.
| wife and three children, Helen, Anne
| and Margaret, eight, seven and six
{ years old,
| fire in the commander’s home.
His
were burned to death in a
War-
Pershing, five vears old, was res-
| cued by servants. Although broken-
hearted at his bereavement, General
| Pershing accepted the blow in his im-
! passive, stoical manner. He was chos-
{en by President Wilson to lead the
i chase for Villa two years ago. Al-
| though he failed to capture the ban-
| dit, he gave the Mexicans an object
lesson regarding American soldiery
i that they have not {orgotten.
He returned to this country last
' ren
He | February and was promoted last Sep-
| tember to be a major general.
When
| General Funston died Pershing was
| appointed commander of the Depart-
| ment of the South, with headquar-
| ters at San Antonio.
| Pershing is loved by his men and
| respected by his subordinates. “The
[ host commander in the army,” said a
| man who served in Mexico with Capt.
Pershing.
| Gardeners Urged to Plant Late Crops
for Winter Use.
It is of the utmost importance this
| year to plant vegetables which can be
| stored and used after frost has done
{its work. The root crops especially
| thrive on a light soil, rich in organic
matter, but will produce favorable
crops on ordinary garden soil.
Too many home gardeners are
growing the short season and quick-
| maturing crops and giving too little
| consideration to succession or “follow-
| up” crops. While it is true that no
| home garden is complete without the
| proverbial lettuce, radish, peas and
| green onions the present critical food
| situation demands that the less per-
ishable crops like potatoes, beans,
squash, pumpkin and root crops be
grown.
For late maturity beets of some
seasonable variety like Detroit Dark
Red or Edmond’s Blood Turnip may
be sown from June 15 to July 15 in
rows 18 inches apart and one-half to
three-fourth inches deep. The crop
should be harvested before freezing
weather. Light frosts will not injure
beets provided the ground is well cov-
ered with foliage.
Beets should be thinned to stand
one inch apart wren they are two to
two and one-half inches high. Beets
removed by thinning may be used for
table greens. Later they may be
thinned again to stand four to six
inches apart. If the second thinning
is done gradually one may have a
more or less constant supply of beets
during late summer.
Carrots are easy to grow and they
lend themselves to storing. For win-
ter use sow the seeds two weeks ear-
lier than for beets. Thin first to stand
one inch and later three to four inch-
es apart in the row. Judicious and
gradual thinning will provide a con-
stant supply of tender carrots for the
table. Varieties adapted to late plant-
ing are Danvers Half Long and
Chantenay.
Turnips mature quickly. Plant
wherever space is available and es-
pecially when it is too late to plant
other succeeding crops. Turnips are
easily grown and readily stored.
Plant the late crop from July 15 to
August 15 preferably the last week in
July. Thin the plants to stand five
to six inches apart in the row. White
Egg is an excellent variety.
Ordinarily parsnips and oyster
plant require the entire season to
complete their growth. They make
the greatest growth, however, in the
fall when cool weather arrives. It is
possible that parsnips and oyster
plant or salsify if planted at this time
may mature by fall. Their culture is
similar to carrots.
In general, the earlier onions are
planted the more productive will the
crop be. April is therefore the best
time for planting. It might be well
to plant a small area even now, since
they are especially valuable for win-
ter use. Even though they should not
mature, they will produce young
green onions by fall.
Keep down weeds in the garden.
Weekly cultivations keep the soil
loose, friable and aerated and con-
serve moisture.
Address your gardening problems
to J. B. Scherrer, in charge of vege-
table gardening cxtension of The
Pennsylvania State College school of
agriculture and experiment station.
Clubhouse for Soldiers Abroad.
Have you ever been homesick ?
Have you ever been in a foreign land
and seized with utter loneliness when
vou couldn’t speak the language usea
about you and where everyone from
your native town seemed a near rela-
tive, and where anyone from your own
State was immediately a close friend ?
To obviate such homesickness
among Pennsylvania soldiers in
France the ‘Emergency Aid of Penn-
sylvania has made an appeal to the
residents of Philadelphia and the
State of Pennsylvania to contribute
$10,000 for the purpose of equipping
a clubhouse for Pennsylvania soldiers
“somewhere in France,” where they
will find home comforts and cheer on
their way to and from the firing line.
The Young Men’s Christian Asso-
ciation is raising a fund to establish
such centers in England and France,
and the Emergency Aid, composed of
prominent women throughout Penn-
sylvania, wants to equip one of those
centers. The clubhouse will offer a
place in which the soldiers may spend
{heir time while off duty, write their
letters, receive letters and otherwise
be made comfortable and relieved
from the terrible strain of the front
line trenches.
Dangers of the battle field are not
the only risks that threaten a soldier.
His spare time is beset with pitfalls
and the Emergency Aid wants to save
him as much as possible. Fathers and
mothers all over the State are pour-
ing in their donations because it is
onc of the few things they can do for
their soldier sons. Contributions for
the fund should be sent to Mrs. Bar-
clay H. Warburton, acting chairman,
1428 Walnut street, Philadelphia.
—The eagles go to sleep about the
time their neighbors in the owl cage
are waking up, while the bears in the
winter sleep all day and night, too.
How Liquid Fire is Used.
The Germans have not hesitated to
introduce any of the ancient or mod-
ern weapons of offense and defense
which they thought would be of ad-
vantage, regardless of Hague Con-
ventions or accepted standards of civ-
ilization. Among these is “liquid
fire,” a weapon of value principally
because of its demoralizing effect up-
on those attacked. There have been
casualties resulting from liquid fire,
but it is the psychological effect that
is sought.
The apparatus usually consists of a
metal tank holding about four gallons
of liquid to be burned, a secticn of
pipe from this tank to a rubber hose
at the other end, in which there is a
smaller metal pipe about a yard long
fitted with a nozzle and a friction ig-
niter, as well as an oil burning wick.
There is a valve near the tank and
another near the nozzle. Benzol,
from coal tar, and crude cil, are used
in equal proportions and are carried
in the tank under a pressure of up-
proximately 20C pounds per square
inch, this pressure being maintained
by compressed nitrogen, an inert gas
having no effect upon the contents of
the tank. The tank and accessories
are carried by one man, while the noz-
zle is carried by a companion when
liquid is being burned. Or it may be
fixed in position and operated by the
same man who carries the tank.
In use a cap is drawn from the end
of the nozzle and a wick burning ker-
osene or similar oil is thereby lighted,
since the cap is a friction igniter. The
oil is then turned on and is ignited as
it leaves the nozzle under great pres-
sure. The result is a flame of burn-
ing oil about 30 yards long. For two-
thirds of this distance the flame is
straight, but it then turns up as does
any other flame. The flame may be
directed against the ground, but care
must be taken not to deflect it too
sharply as it may strike the ground
and turn back toward those operating
the device. It is, therefore, not well
suited to turning down into a trench.
It is claimed by an expert from the
American Chemical society that liquid
fire is not so effective a weapen now
that it is understood by the troops and
means for defense have been worked
out. It can be readily understood,
however, that a number of such devic-
es, with the roar of the escaping oil,
when used together, gave a means of
demoralizing the defenders of a
trench, especially at night, and in the
beginning was a valuable accessory by
raiding parties.
Helping the Cause of Better Roads.
The general public in Pennsylvania
and other States is just beginning to
awaken to the importance of Good
Roads. Military officials are point-
ing out the necessity of good high-
ways as a defensive measure, for the
speedy mobilization of troops and the
rapid shifting of men from point to
point. Those in charge of food dis-
tribution are emphasizing the vital
principle of better methods of com-
munication to make the transporta-
tion of food more rapid and thorough.
In ordinary times better roads en-
hance real estate values and increase
the efficiency of apparatus for fire
protection by making it possible to
reach the endangered property more
readily and quickly.
To educate the motoring public and
thereby add impetus to the cause of
Good Roads the Atlantic Refining
company is conducting a campaign in
The Saturday Evening Post suggest-
ing to those accustomed to making
motor tours in the summer months
that they tour Pennsylvania this year.
Pennsylvania is the ideal State to
tour at this time on account of its
many shrines of historic events in the
winning of our country’s liberty and
such a tour cannot fail to stimulate
patriotism. Moreover, patriotic citi-
zens will be interested in the State’s
practically inexhaustible resources so
vitally important at this time.
At the same time it will show the
tourists what is being done in the way
of road building in Pennsylvania, a
large part of which this company is
interested in. This should stimulate
the growth of the Good Roads move-
ment in this and other States and re-
sult in permanent benefit.
An influx of tourists should be felt
in every part of the State, and local
merchants, garages and hotels will be
certain to reap a benefit therefrom.
All loyal Pennsylvenians are request-
ed to make the tourists welcome and
give special attention to those show-
ing the “Courtesy Cards” issued by
the Atlantic Refining company.
Cossacks the Backbone of Russia.
“It is significant that the Cossacks
of Russia have taken sides with the
new democratic government and have
announced that they will fight on
against the Germans,” remarked Dr.
H. A. Herbst, an American who has
traveled in Russia extensively, to a
Washington “Post” reporter. “For
centuries the Cossacks have been loy-
al to Russia, not to any particular
king or dynasty, and they have always
landed on the winning side. The Cos-
sacks fought for the Emperor of Ger-
many against the Turks and for Tur-
key against Moscow, and they had no
scruples in siding with Moscow and
Crimea against the Poles. :
“The Cossacks constitute the most
loyal body of soldiers in Russia. In
the last revolution in Russia the Cos-
sacks sent an ultimatum to the rebels
that if they did not discontinue their
agitation against the Czar the Cos-
sacks would march against them
500,000 strong and annihilate them.
This declaration had its effect, and
while some few soldiers mutinied, no
Cossack was found wanting. The
Cossacks are the backbone of Russia.
With them standing behind the Gov-
ernment and the Entente Allies, there
can be no question, in my opinion, of
the future of Russia or the continu-
ance of Russia in the war until Ger-
many is beaten.”
“A Young Fan.
«Remember this, my son; if you
want to make a hit you must strike
out for yourself.”
“You're mixed in your baseball talk,
pa; if you strike out you can’t make a
hit.”—Boston Transcript.
as——a————
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een
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
DAILY THOUGHT
A moral, sensible and well bred man
Will not affront me, and no other can.
—Cowper.
Time was when a ‘‘simple white
frock” was the correct and almost the
only possible summer wear for a
woman, but, judging from the New
York stores and the dresses one sees
on Fifth avenue these days, the more
decorative the white dress and the
further removed from simplicity it is
the better. The lines, it is true, must
be simple, but the fabrics? Oh, no!
They must be of the most expensive;
georgette trimmed with delicate hand
embroidery, heavy real laces or intri-
cate designs in beading; the finest of
fine handkerchief linens all tucked by
hand in iittle groups of French tucks,
alternating with exquisitely wrought
veining and drawn thread work; oth-
er linens trimmed with English cut
work or the heavier Italian rattocelli
and on everything you see filet, and
then more and more filet, insertions,
edgings and enormous collars.
Even the tailored suits have great
collars of real lace and some have
vests composed of colored linens with
insertions of lace. One very pretty
collar, vest and cuffs, worn with a blue
taffeta suit, was entirely composed of
wee fairy-like frills and ruffles of nar-
row valenciennes; it was inexpressi-
bly dainty and feminine in spite of the
tailored lines on which the waistcoat
was built.
Another thing which strikes the cas-
ual shopper’s eye in New York these
days is the extraordinary preponder-
ance of all-white hats, many being en-
tirely built and trimmed with a very
soft, shimmery satin, not at all like
the usual paper fabric which is so
generally used in the cheaper type of
white satin hat. All the hats, how-
ever, no matter what their shape, size
or material, have one feature in com-
mou—they all have raggedy edge! In
some this effect is obtained by the
straw itself, being apparently scal-
loped, in others it comes from a pro-
truding border of spiky feathers such
as burnt goose or peacock; more have
a finish or soft fibers of ostrich, while
quite a number have a flat close
wreath of some sort of small flowers,
such as daisies, laid right round the
edge with about a third of the petals
jutting out beyond the straw. A very
great number are bordered with a
transparent material, either a couple
of rows of horsehair or a drooping
piece of georgette, chiffon or malines,
falling about an inch or maybe two
over the forehead. But however the
effect is obtained, it is really very be-
coming to the majority of people.
One change in the fashion for which
we may be thankful is the slightly
greater length of the skirts. It is no
longer in good style, as it was never
in good taste, to have your dresses
much nearer your knees than your
ankles; in fact, quite a number of the
very best stores are showing skirts
which merely clear the instep, a
length which is both sensible and
modest.
Of course, sport skirts are still
short, but even they are no longer like
kilts, but content themselves by stop-
ping at the ankles or a verv little
above, though they make up for that
unwonted demureness by being extra
startling in color and design, many
showing the wierdest possible Chinese
colors and patterns; one was actually
adorned (?) with dragons in green
purple, yellow and brick red on a
sand-colored background!
Naturally, with a separate skirt one
needs a separate waist, whether it be
one of the old style that ends at the
belt or one of the smock or peplum
variety, and the stores are showing a
perfect riot of types to suit every fig-
ure and taste. For sport wear the
Russian blouse or the slipover smock
are still the most general, but there
are also very charming and woman-
like shirt waists of handkerchief lin-
en, heavy Jap silk, or wash satin, gen-
erally made with convertible collars,
though there is an ever increasing ten-
dency to revert to the high neck and
stock collar often accompanied by a
jabot. That same appendage is also
to be found on many of the low-neck-
ed waists, but the trimmer, more man-
nish styles are considered in better
taste for sport wear.
For the dressier blouses there can
be no doubt that georgette is the most
attractive and becoming fabric,
though crepe de chine runs it a close
second; but whatever the material,
there is one essential, if you would be
in the fashion this year, and that is
that you have it elaborately trimmed
with lace. Of course, lace is both ex-
pensive and rare this season, but fash-
ion does not consider such trifling ob-
stacles as that, so we are called on to
be frilled and flounced, inserted and
edged with lace of some kind or
another.
Filet is the most popular, but Irish
crochet is the more chic; they are both
frightfully dear, but we are offered
this consolation that Malines, point,
duchesse or even the more reascnable
valenciennes will do in case of necessi-
ty. One of these new lacy, frilly
waists was made of white georgette,
the fronts being all perpendicular
groups of French tucks, and the edge
where it fastened trimmed with a nar-
row border of very fine filet. The col-
lar was high, a turnover style trim-
med with a filet insertion, and from it
there fell a cascaded jabot edged
with the lace. All this, however, is
more or less commonplace, but the
sleeves were the thing! They were of
the full bishop variety, gathered into
a cuff of the filet, but-——and here is the
novel point—they were slit almost up
to the elbow at the outside of the arm,
and each side of the opening was fin-
ished with a rather full ruffle of the
filet.
Anotrer waist showed sleeves in
which a Lroad band of baby Irish was
inserted from the very top of the arm
right dewn to the wrist; in fact, the
insertion started almost under the
lobe of the ear, because it ran down
the high choker collar, over the shoul-
der, and then down the arm. The ef-
fact was very startling, for the pat-
tern was very open and the trimming
almost three inches wide, but it was
undoubtedly smart. — Philadelphia
Ledger.