Beware Aga Bellefonte, Pa., June 21, 1918. THE HOME-TOWN PAPER. Edgar A. Guest in the North American. It’s like a smiling friendly face, It’s like a voice you long have known, You see it in some distant place And rush to claim it for your own. The paper from your old home town Has bridged the long and dreary miles And with it you can settle down Among familiar tears and smiles. It speaks for every friend you know, It tells of scenes you yearn to see; It brings back joys of long ago And tells of joys that are to be. And as you run its columns o'er Your yesterday's come trooping back; You fancy you're at home once more, And golden seem the letters black. Its speech is one you understand, It tells of griefs that you can share, It brings you, in that foreign land, Glad messages to banish care. There, among scenes and faces strange, The old-home paper seems to be The faithful friend that doesn’t change, A friend that you are glad to see. I know not just what heaven is like, Nor just what joys beyond life’s tide Await for me when death shall strike And I shall reach the other side. But this I know when I have gone To dwell in realms divinely fair, My soul shall yearn to look upon The old-home paper over there. AT THE DOCTOR’S DOOR. At about the hour of ten of a night in early spring the romantic setting being the city of New York, those so- phisticated gentlemen who act as stage-managers of Bohemia were gathered in Parnassus Hall, attend- ing to the finishing touches of the an- nual festival which was published on the bill-boards as the Aztec Ball Decorations of a barbarian coloring and design were tacked along the gal- leries, an improvised Court of the In- cas blazed goldenly from the ugly lit- tle stage of Parnassus, a contractor had laid in a stock of inferior liquor for the occasion. All, in fact, was in readiness for the swinging of the big front door, and the managers looked forward to a profitable night of it. On the south side of Washington Square there was a scampering up- stairs and down, an improvisation of costumes, a borrowing of odds and ends and a generally successful at- tempt on everybody’s part to wear a different disguise from that worn at the Apache Saraband, or the Vam- pires’ Ball, or any other of that close chain of midnight festivals which Bo- | SO hemia’s management had arranged for the winter. Complaint with this general idea, a girl who occupied an untidy studio on the third story of a decrepit house near the corner of the Square was patching an old Peter Pan costume which had done service since the meridian of Mr. Barrie’s play many season’s ago. Her name was Wanda Holt, and she was rather a small, plain, scrawny "person with mud-colored hair bobbed below the ears, plaintive eyes and a look of ab- solute determination. She was rath- er disgusted with herself for wanting to go to this dance, but she had made up her mind to have an unbroken sea- son of it; and she entertained the hope that she would look better as Peter Pan than she had as Carmen or Rob Roy. Vanity, it seems, will never strike her plumed colors until every other heroic weakness lies dead upon ‘ the field. At this very instant a fashionable audience at the Metropolitan Opera House was raising its white gloves to applaud the falling second-act cur- tain in “The Love of the Three Kings.” Alberta Plaisted, who occu- pied a golden chair in J. Branner Bol- by’s family box, wasted none of her precious thoughts upon the Aztec Ball, for the very good reason that she did not, at that moment, realize that such an institution existed upon earth. She was largely concerned with her own feelings, the fact that she was bored, the fact that she felt ill, the fact that she craved some vague excitement to draw her out of that mass of dull things which her ambition and her ambition for her husband had brought around her. She was a lovely picture of a woman in her early thirties, sup- ple and smooth of skin, and with eyes the color of sea water; a shade also reflected in the coils of her hair, which was silky and almost white in its blondness. Across the box she watched her much-enduring husband, Dr. Chan- ning Plaisted, struggling to be agree- able to the elderly Bolbys, dreadful bores who reminded her of over-dress- ed, rather venomous toads. She felt a surge of amused pity, momentarily, for the man she loved and whom she | wa had gotten into this; for it was she who had brought the Bolbys into Channing’s practice, just as it was she who had turned the conscientious, scientific drudge, her husband, into the fashionable physician he had now become. Alberta, as she looked across at the angular, bushy-browed man of forty-eight who sat subserviently smiling at old Mrs. Bolby’s droned platitudes, reflected that she was much cleverer than Channing. And with what a plain common-sense Channing had admitted the fact and permitted her to take the leading- Srings Dear old boy, how she loved im! The lady who endeavored to divide her melodious love impartially be- tween three jealous monarchs was at that moment beating her breast at center stage, despairing wails ema- nating from her golden throat. Al- berta was thinking of something else . - » » there was that “gone” feel- ing under her breast-bone . . . Chan- ning had caught her in one of those queer spells about eighteen months ago and had given her some medicine which she was to take within a half hour after the symptoms became an- noying. She had medicine four times since then, twice during the month . . . what had been the use of saying anyilung to Chan- ning about it? e had his work to engross him and, for the matter of that, she would rather die outright than have him putting her on a diet and curtailing the pleasures which had become to her the breath of life. To go about with the Tam people and play hard and dress well, she felt, resorted to that|u constituted her serious condition to | Channing’s career. He was making { money, a great deal of it for a doctor. | They were dining off rich men’s dam- ! ask nowadays, being invited every- _ | where. But the sight of her Chan de- ~ | voting his | splendid talents, applying ihis fine head, to the uses of these | over-fatted Bolbys and others of their ikind! Well, J. Branner Bolby was {worth a number of millions and | Chan had a dozen patients of as good |a rating and better. {Chan followed her advice, and they ‘had cut out a sentimental attitude to- {ward the humbler world which paid only you wait for that. |” The curtain swept down and ap- |plause began crackling like giant | twigs under a pot. The distraught | prima donna, smiling after her bout ! with three peevish monarchs, came forward for her ovation. “Three kings!” wheezed old Mr. | Bolby, turning fishhy eyes toward her. “Well, whatever she gets serves {her right.” ; | “Oh, be a little kind to her,” smiled Alberta. “Think of the excitement she ,has given quite a number of peo- “There’s the point.” Mr. Bolby raised a tallow-like finger. “Some women—merely because they happen to be born pretty—think they can run with the hare and hunt with the hounds. Giving beauty to some wom- en is like giving dynamite to a baby. Faugh!” “You might make it illegal,” sug- gested she in a vaguely satirical tone. Mr. Bolby pondered her suggestion for a while, then responded pompous- to do. There will always be a certain attraction held by women who——" The door of the box opened and a plump young man with a row of sap- phires down his ample bosom bowed himself into the presence. He had a sags over the eyes, and he brought with him a sort of ozone such as is imparted by a high-powered motor- car which disdains any movement slower than Mega) speeding. “Ronny!” cried Alberta, giving him an eager hand. : This was her bright delivery. Air had been let into the sluggish circle. Reacting as she had been against the heavy dinner and liberal wine of the Bolby establishment, the sight of the merry, vinous Ronald Prawl came to her like a reviving cocktail. The young man went the rounds, punctil- jously paying his addresses to the swollen Bolbys and nodding jauntily to Dr. Plaisted, who returned a friend- ly smile. Prawl dealt out small-talk glibly as one might deal out pleasant- ly painted cards. Then he came over and sat beside Alberta, making no concealment that it was she he had ught. “Tt’s the first time I've been since last season,” he was chatting on. “I'd been thinking of doing the Winter Garden for the second time this week, but the chap who was with me fell among the daisies—said he was a mermaid and had to be carried from place to place because his legs were sewed together—or something. my watch. That’s what you do, you know—ney thought. Quandary— consult watch: ‘Watch, what say you?’ So I consulted watch and watch said, ‘Go to the Opera and see something that you’ll be glad to see.” ” | “So you followed directions ?”’ she asked archly, wondering just how far the vening had progressed with: Ron- ny Prawl. “Came—and the first thing I saw was you and the retinue entering the foyer.” Bully glad I came—rotten op- era, too.” By the look he gave her it was easy to see how near he, too,had come to falling among the daisies with his friend. Yet she always liked Ronny Prawl. In his very unsobriety there seemed to be a rebellion which re- sponded to her own. “Bertie,” he said suddenly, “we don’t have to sit here—we’re not sub- scribers, thank the Lord. Let's walk outside the blaze of jewels. It’s hot- ter than a stokehole in here.” She smiled over at her hostess and gave her husband an understanding Took before she followed Ronald Prawl out into the carpeted promenade. Laughingly they wound in and out among the evening-clad couples. 1- berta following delightedly along the course of his rambling, frivolous mon- ologue. “J’d confess anything to you, Ber- tie,” he chattered on. “You have a way of plumbing my conscience—like letting a golden fish-hook down into a deep, dark well—never fail to bring something up. As a matter of fact, I've got a secret on my mind—" “Tell me,” she pleaded, half-fooled. “I have a craving for drink,” he re- plied dramatically. “I have it right now—this instant. And if you and I were out, unchaperoned, on Broad- “What a conicidence!” she rippled. Inwardly she was quite serious about it, for she was parched with thirst and that sensation of sinking, sink- ing had begun again. . . . She had, too, a thirst for some excitement that would send her spinning on till morning. Her nerves were up in re- bellion against being bored and the wine she had drunk at Bolbys’ dinner had gone stale within her. “We have a problem,” Ronny was saying, standing stockstill and pre- tending to think. “If I could hire you a dress-suit, now, we might go up to the cafe and drink together like old collgge chums. That would be sim- ple. “Too simple,” she objected. “Ladies don’t do it, do they—not en tete-a-tete. And yet——" snapped his fingers. “Bertie, if you're game—and I think you are—there’s something better than cafes and sordid highballs. I offer you lights, music, brave women. He hesitated, an infantile grin suffus- ing his fat face. “Oh, hurry and tell me,” she plead- ed. The curtain will go up in a min- “It’s too terribly Bohemian,” he temporized. “Maybe if I tell you you'll be cross about it.” “I’m the soul of amiability.” She looked it at the moment. “Well, it’s an affair called the Az- tec Ball. Perfectly dreadful art-stu- dents and desperate poets—some real everybody masked up to the hour when squeams cease and confidences Ss Tad dog 16, three dollars a visit and made y: : “That would be a very difficult thing red face, humorous and weak, with | © Iput! him to bed in my room and consulted He came up to an abrupt halt and people, too, mixed in to see the fun— |- begin. Then first you know it’s day- light! Home, James.” “You're describing Paradise!” she cried rapturously. “I've got two tickets,” he announc- ed. “But of course there’s your hus- band.” “Chan?” she laughed. He won’t mind. We have a perfect understand- ing about these matters. We work together and play separately.” ‘Bertie, you've brought sweetness and light into my embittered life,” he assured her as they walked back to- ward the closed door of the Bolby box. “I'll go home, get into my costume and call for you at twelve.” “You'll find me game, as you say,” she smiled back at him as she opened the door which carried the engraved , name of J. Barnard Bolby. It was after the performance, just as the party was breaking up, that Alberta went to the cloak-room and took a little silver scent bottle from her beaded bag. She measured out ten drops of the liquid in a glass of water the attendant brought her and swallowed the dose. By the time she had gone to the foyer and begun say- ing a hypocritical good-night to her hostess she was feeling quite normal again for the first time in several ours. As they were driving home in the doctor’s car Alberta began taxing her wits for a natural approach to the topic of Ronald Prawl’s peculiar invi- tation. “What’s ‘wrong, old dear?” she ask- ed affectionately, passing her hand over the rugged cheek of the man be- side her who maintained an attitude of fatigue and resignation. “I'm paying an income-tax on thir- ty-five thousand a year,” he groaned. “And if the government knew how {many times over and over again 1 earn my money they wouldnt have the heart to charge me a cent.” “The Bolbys are bores,” she conced- “Hang it, Bertie, they're all bores!” he replied carelessly. “If they don’t talk a leg off you they freeze you to death or keep you capering for them like a dancing-master or flattering i their silly little egos or playing their | stupid games. They call a doctor in | the way they call in a barber—to give {’em what they want and take his tip and get out. And they never want a doctor to practice medicine honestly and scientifically, as he's been taught to do. Anything but that.” “There now, dear boy,” she soothed, well knowing this class of rebellion into which he plunged occasionally. (“After all we can’t let the rich die | without proper medical attention.” | “That’s exactly what most of em do die without,” he replied savagely. “They don’t want to be cured. They want to be flattered; and as a conse- , quence they call in a medical dummy | like myself and pay an exorbitant | sum to be flattered to death.” | “There, there!” She wound a slen- der arm about his neck. “He needn't go to the Opera any more if it makes him so savage.” | “With the poor it’s different,” he stormed on unheedingly. “I go into a poor man’s house with the idea of ‘taking charge of the case. I don’t check my honesty at the door—or hand it to the butler the way I'm ex- pected to do when fat old Mr. Croesus gets sick. With a poor patient I act on my best scientific judgment, earn- estly and squarely—or that’s what I used to do when I took poor patients” | “What would you prefer to do?” she asked, settling back against the ' cushions and eyeing critically his pro- file, dimly outlined by the reflected street-lamps. | “Well, it may sound crazy of me, but if I had my way I think I should |like to go back to my three-dollar practice. Not that I prefer to make three dollars when I can get three hundred; but it would give me a grim satisfaction to know that I was in the battle again, giving something really , useful to the world. I'm too busy now | getting rich to accomplish much of | anything. I have to spend my days | hanging around languid ladies, telling 'them they're anemic because they don’t like to be told they're alcoholics. I've given up answering night calls from people who really need emergen- cy help, because it might interfere with: » { “Oh, Chan! You know youre too "successful to be tumbling out of bed .at night for charity cases!” She sigh- ed and bit her lip. She thought he had buried that silly hobby long ago | —and here it was again. “I know you don’t like me to talk | about it, honey,” he said huskily, tak- ing her unresponsive hand. “It’s un- | comfortable, 1’11 admit, to roll out of | sweet dreams for every telephone-call land pull my trowsers over my paja- mas and plunge into a snowdrift to | find the address of a truckman whose | wife has decided to increase the pop- | ulation at three in the morning. You | were perfectly right when you show- led me that other successful doctors ‘didn’t do it—that they left the night- | riding to younger men who had to | take the rough stuff—" «Well, what are you getting at, | dear 7” she suggested more gently. | “Forgive me, Bertie!” He reached ‘across and drew her to him in a bear- {like hug. “I'm just blowing off | steam. As a matter of fact I'm much [too comfortable and happy to want ‘anything different than it is. You {mustn’t think I'm ungrateful to you, i dear, for the way you've boosted me up to where Iam. And as far as night | work is concerned, it’s really a senti- | mental regret with me. I hate the ‘sound of a telephone after eleven p. m. It’s a dreary life, that living like a fireman, always ready to pull on your boots and slide down the pole. Actually I'm glad I've handed my | night-practice over to Dr. Chase.” “And you're really enormously well known,” she told Him as her head rested against his shoulder and she fingered the lapel of his rough coat. She loved him so, and if she could on- ly teach him to accept things! “That’s the funny thing about it!” he laughed. “I seem to be gaining power in the medical profession. I never go to the hospital any more but what the internes gather in knots and point me out. I've been asked to read a paper on uremic poisoning before the Medical Congress, not because know much about the subject, but be- cause I've been called in to cure John D. Hellig, the banker.” “Don’t underrate yourself,” pleaded against his coat. “Oh, I'm a fake and I'm very hap- she py and successful and I love my girl,” he replied, never losing his cynicism A Health and Happiness, Number 46 Cereal Foods. The text and illustrations of this article are from Farmers Bulletin, 817, United States Department of Agriculture. Fig. 2.—Flour, bread, and macaroni in quantities having the same general food value. WISE USE OF CEREAL FOODS. In “What The Body Needs,” Farmers Bulletin 808, U. S. Department of Agriculture, an excerpt from which was published in last week’s “Watchman,” the diet as a whole is considered and a simple way of planning wholesome, eco- nomical, and attractive meals is suggested. The housekeeper is advised to think of the common food materials as grouped under five heads, and to make sure that the diet every day includes something from each of the five groups. The five groups are as follows: (1) Fruits and vegetables. Without these there is danger that the diet may be lacking in mineral matter and other substances needed in the making of tissues and for keeping the body in health. (2) Milk, cheese, eggs, meat, fish and dried legumes (peas, beans, etc.). Without these there is danger that the diet may be lacking in protein, an in- dispensable tissue builder. (3) Cereals (wheat, oats, rye, corn, barley, and rice) and their products. Wilhoss These the diet would contain practically no starch, the cheapest kind of body fuel. (4) Sugar, molasses, sirups, honey, and other sweets. Without these the diet would be lacking in sugar, valued as body fuel and for its flavor. (5) Fats (butter, lard, meat fat, and olive, peanut, cottonseed, and oth- er fats and oils). Without these the diet might be lacking in fat, which has a high value as body fuel and gives to food an agreeable quality commonly called “richness.” The term “cereal foods” may mean: (1) The kernels of corn, oats, rice, rye, wheat, etc.; (2) the flours, meals, breakfast foods, starches, etc., manu- factured from them; or (3) bread, crackers, cakes, pastry, ete, in which they form an important part. It will be easier to understand their use in the diet if these three general forms are borne in mind. KINDS OF CEREALS. The most common cereals are wheat, rye, corn, oats, and rice. They differ somewhat in appearance, taste, and food value, but all have many fea- tures in common. Besides the more common cereals named in the last paragraph there are a few others which may be briefly mentioned. Barley is one used chiefly in gruels or in soup. Buckwheat is not a cereal in the botanical sense of the word, but its seeds resemble the true cereals in general character and food ; value, so that it is usually classed with them. In this country it is chiefly used for making griddle cakes. The so-called grain sorghums (kafir, milo, feterita, etc.) are cereals, the use of which is increasing in this country, es- pecially in the semiarid sections of the Southwest. The most abundant food material in cereals is starch, which serves the body as fuel. This makes up nearly three-quarters of most grains. The next most abundant material is protein, which supplies nitrogen for tissue build- ing. This makes up about one-eighth of the grain. There is also a little fat, particularly in corn and oats; it is found chiefly in the germ. Another im- portant material is the “roughage,” or cellulose, which is most abundant in the skin of the grain and which gives bulk to the diet. The kernels also con- tain actually small, but relatively high, proportions of mineral matters need- ed for body building and other purposes and other substances very important for regulating body processes. The protein is not alike in all kinds of cereals. Part of that in wheat is a tough, elastic sort, called gluten. It is because of this gluten, which can be expanded into air bubbles, that light, porous bread can be made from wheat. Rye is most like wheat in the character of its gluten, though light, porous bread can not be made from it alone. Barley, buckwheat, corn, oats, and rice are so lacking in gluten that they can not be raised by yeast. PREPARED CEREALS, By prepared cereals are meant such manufactured goods as flours and meals, cracked wheat, steamed and rolled oats, puffed or flaked grains of all kinds, macaroni and other pastes, cornstarch, etc. They may or may not con- tain all of the original grain, and for this reason they differ more widely than the grains themselves in appearance, composition and flavor. The cooking which some of them undergo during manufacture also causes changes. Of course, unless something is added to them, they contain no food material not present in the grains from which they are made. Prepared cereals differ so much in form that their appearance gives little idea of the amount of nourishment they yield. For instance, the amount of flour which will fill a cup weighs 4 ounces; that of rice, 8 or 9 ounces; and that of flaked breakfast cereal, hardly half an ounce; and it is this weight rather than bulk or volume which indicates food value. Such differences in weight and volume must be remembered by those who wish to buy their food as cheaply as possible. Some breakfast foods retail at 48 cents a pound (15 cents for a 5-ounce package); others cost 5 or 6 cents a pound. Fig. 3.—Corn meal, pop corn, and corn pone in amounts having the same general food value. (To be continued next week). pr in his good-nature. “Chan, dear!” It now seemed ripe time to bring forth her topic. “Do you object to my playing round with Ronny Prawl?” . “Not in the least,” he assured her. «He seems to be a decent, harmless vulgarian and they say his mother spends ten thousand a year on her health.” : : “He just gave me the foolishest in- vitation,” she faltered; then, hurry- ing to the occasion, ‘“he wants me to go with him to the Aztec Ball.” There was a reserve in his voice. “Of course the Aztec Ball is regarded as rather an unconventional place—es- pecially for the wife of an ambitious fashionable physician.” “Ill not stay late and Ill come home before they unmask,” she plead like a child, “I just seem dying for a little whirl tonight. The idea of stop- ping and going to bed like a regular citizen—I can’t stand it.” : Plaisted looked at her a long time, and in the half-light his scrutiny “seemed terribly accusing. “Oh yes. When?” | “Bertie, are you quite well?” he “Tonight,” she hurried on. I can asked. put on my old Balkan costume that “Absolutely,” she lied eagerly, everybody’s forgotten and I'll wear a turning a furtive thought to the lit- mask all evening and 2 | tle bottle in her beaded bag. “I never “That would be all right, I'm sure.” felt better in my life. I think it’s sur- "train was met by plus energy—too much ‘pep,’ as they “say, that makes me so wild to go.” “Then I'd be a poor doctor if I did not let you,” he said gently, patting, her shoulder. ¢ Make Ronny take good care of you and get you home early—and incog. most certainly.” “] love you so!” she cried impul- sively, kissing him. “And I knew you’d understand about Ronny.” “A little flirtation in the matter of business,” he chuckled as their car drew up in front of their pretty brick house in Tenth Street. Continued next week) . The War Chest. In the public square of Salem, that old New England town, there was re- cently erected a mammoth iron-bound chest, like those in which the ancient mariners used to store the treasure they brought back from the Spanish main. This great ark belonged to no man, but to all the people of Salem town—was in fact a community cof- fer, and, as any boy in the street would tell you, was Salem’s “War Chest,” an object lesson, symbolizing the om- nibus war-relief fund for which the city was being canvassed. The War Chest is nothing more than the application to civic affairs of the method which we Methodists still per- sist in calling the “new” financial plan. The origin and popularity of the idea are easily accounted for. Just as the churches, finding them- selves embarrassed and burdened by the multiplication of special appeals and spasmodic drives, have turned ea- gerly to an arrangement which pro- vides for an annual every-member canvass, with an omnibus pledge for all the benevolences, coupled with weekly payments, so in many cities the need of consolidating all the va- rious war-relief drives into one, and pouring a steady stream of offerings into a community war chest, has found immediate favor. A single every-citizen canvass is made at a def- inite time. Each person is asked for a pledge, to be paid in instalments covering a year. The money is ad- ministered by a board of representa- tive citizens and paid out only to such war activities as are indorsed by the President of the United States, the Secretary of War, the Secretary of the Navy, or are approved by the Board of Directors of the War Wel- fare Council. These activities include among others: The American Red Cross. The Young Men’s Christian Asso- ciation War Work Council. The Young Women’s Christian As- sociation War Work Council. Armenian and Syrian Relief. The Knights of Columbus War Fund. ; The Young Men’s Hebrew Associa- tion. The Commission on Training Camp Activities. : The Salvation Army War Relief. Jewish Welfare Board. The Boy Scouts of America. The Community Recreation Serv- ice, together with similar national and local approved war-relief activi- ties. It is claimed for the War Chest idea that it saves time, effort and ex- pense by concentrating the energy and talent of a community upon a sin- gle campaign, taking the place of Red Cross, Young Men's Christian Association, etc., and releasing this machinery for the Liberty loan drives, which being for investments and not gifts, are not accounted as war relief. It is further urged that it reduces the number of calls for money, offers protection from unworthy war-relief schemes, and assures a bank account out of which the community’s quota can be paid without disturbance, ex- citement or delay, and without inter- fering with local charities. . The plan is now squarely on trial. Columbus, Ohio, Albany, Syracuse, Rochester and Ithaca, N. Y., are men- tioned among the cities which have undertaken it with large promise of success. Philadelphia was the first great city to adopt it. The Quaker city, which is second to none in its support of all patriotic enterprises, has stored enough in one week to meet every proper war-relief requirement of the next twelve months that can now be foreseen. ; Objections have been urged against placing the disbursement of such large funds in the hands of a board, and the final success of the plan will mainly be judged by the way in which the War Welfare Council discharges its responsibilities in this respect. Time alone will tell also whether a budget made up a year in advance * will be flexible enough to meet the sudden emergencies of a world-war, when the conflagration is liable to spread to new places, and reduce whole nations to the misery which America alone can relieve. If the War Chest plan proves to be all that its sponsors claim—and Wwe hope it will have a chance to demon- strate its value—it is probable that it will be continued, after the country has returned to the paths of peace, as a means of providing steady sup- port for hospitals, orphanages and re- lief. works of every sort that have a fair claim upon the common purse. If the committee in charge of the appro- priations is proof against sectarian or partisan control, and administers its trust to the satisfaction of the great body of the contributors the War Chest idea will be welcomed as one of the lessons of efficiency which America has had to learn at the dear cost of her present hard exper- ience.—Christian Advocate. ———— — Long before the first contin- gent of American soldiers set foot in London, the “folks at home” had fore- seen the possibility of a “Sammy” finding himself a stranger in a strange land. They therefore set about to provide him with a “home from home.” Whenever a party of United States soldiers or sailors ob- tains leave to visit the capital, their arrival is wired in adyance, and the officials in smart uniforms. The American hut to which they are conducted bears the welcome, “Come In out of the weather,” and the men’s wants are attended to by a number of voluntary workers. There are dor- mitories and a concert hall and din- ing room, and it is gratifying to be told, so comfortable and inviting are the conditions within that the temp- tations outside are reduced to a min- imum.—Monitor. ———— ——Subsecribe for the “Watchman.” eu
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers