IT ISN’ YOUR TOWN; IT’S YOU.
If you want to live in the kind of a town
Like the kind of a town you like
You needn’t slip your clothes in a grip
And start on a long, long hike.
Bellefonte, Pa., June 28, 1918.
You'll only find what you left behind,
For there's nothing really new,
It’s a knock at yourself when you knock
you town,
It isn’t your town—it’s you.
Real towns are not made by men afraid
Lest somebody else got ahead;
‘When every one works and nobody shirks
You can raise a town from the dead.
And if you can make your personal stake
Your neighbor can make one too,
Your town will be what you want to see,
It isn’t your town—it's YOU.
AT THE DOCTOR’S DOOR.
(Concluded from last week).
Shortly after twelve o’clock when
Ronny Prawl, fat and gallant in crim-
son doublet and hose, rang the bell at
the Plaisteds’ door, it was a fascinat-
ing Balkan Princess with tow-colored
hair and mysterious greenish eyes
who came down and let him in.
“Your Radiance!” cried the crimson
knight, sinking plumply down upon a
burlesque knee. Scotch whiskey now
seemed to hang about him like a nim-
bus, unseen but not unsmelled.
“Get up, Your Impudence!” she
laughed, tweaking him by the ear.
“Ouch!” he arose hastily, rubbing
the side of his head. “Don’t get mad
if I call you a peach. That gown, you
know 2
“Five years old,” she sniffed. “For-
tunately, Balkan costumes are out of
style. So I'm going in complete dis-
guise, you see——"
“Shall I keep my taxi?” he asked
as she turned to go up the stairs.
“By all means,” she cautioned.
“Chan’s let our car go. He has to
start early in the morning for Spoon-
bony to play golf with John D. Hel-
i
“We mustn’t let our pleasures stand
in the way of science,” Ronny agreed,
as he opened the door a crack and
called out to the chauffeur.
She found her husband, already in
pajamas and dressing gown, smoking
a nightcap cigarette in his dispensa-
ry at the head of the stairs.
“Promise me Chan, that you’ll go
right to bed and to sleep.”
“You speak like a good mother,” he
smiled, holding her tenderly by the
shoulders.
“No—but I realize how foolish you
are when you get your conscientious
spells. I can’t leave you a minute or
you’ll be off on some Quixotic errand
for your blessed poor.”
She ran her white fingers through
his hair and looked him steadily in
the eye.
“Now you’re not going to race off
forthe first patient that rings you
un?”
“Cross my heart,” he grinned back
to her gentle bullying.
“It’s serious with me, Chan. You’ve
got to acknowledge that you need me
to teach you common sense. You're
too hard-worked and we're too—im-
portant—to waste your time with
every Tom, Dick and Harry. Some-
how I just feel you're not going to
bed for your night’s rest—you’re
planning some charity expedition.
You'll catch cold and heaven knows
what all.”
“Do you want me to put it down in
hand-writing 7?” he laughed.
“That’s a good idea!” she cried.
“Here—follow me, bad boy!”
With a great show of force she took
his big hand and led him to her little
boudoir, where she snatched one of
her engraved correspondence-cards
from the pigeonhole of her frivolous
desk, dipped a pen and scrawled a line
across its surface.
“Now, foolish, come here and sign
your name!”
. He followed the rules of the whim-
sical game she was playing and fixed
his signature before he read the com-
pleted work:
“I do not take any patients after
Op. m
CHANNING PLAISTED.”
“What are you going to do—tack
this on the door?” he asked with af-
fectionate gruffness. ;
“Better that that,” she rippled as
she rose and tiptoed into his bedroom.
“There!” he heard her say, and a
moment later she was giving him her
good-night kiss.
“You needn’t worry about my de-
votion to humanity after office-hours,”
he assured her. “I love my sleep too
well.”
“Yes—but you’ve broken your rule
two or three times lately. It’s a bad
habit. Think what successful doctors
would think if they caught you plod-
ding about at night after three-dollar
cases!”
“And now I’ll lecture you,” he said
seriously, as he laid a big, delicate
hand upon her left side. “Remember
—that kind heart of yours skips a
beat now and then. Just a little danc-
ing. Nothing to drink!”
“Old killjoy!” she pouted.
. “I love you terribly!” he whispered
in one of his sudden ardors.
“I love you, too,” she replied quite
sincerely. “And now please, Chan—
don’t rub off all my make-up!”
She went flying down the stairs
and permitted her red knight to help
her into her blue evening cloak. She
stood looking absent-mindedly about,
then raised her pretty, delicate face
and called up the stairs:
“Chan!”
“Yes, dear,” came his reply as he
leaned over an upper alias y he
ay. fesded ba i hanging right
e newel-post. i
—Ronny’ll catch ito Ssplidovn
. The saggy, ornate thing came hurt-
ling down from above and Prawl did
~ skilfully as he was bid, catching the
bag by its string before it touched the
or. ;
“Take care of her, Ronny,” caution-
ed the doctor from on high. “She
hasn’t got any sense. I'm relying on
you.”
“You're leaning against a broken
reed, old Hn as Romny's manful
assurance just before the front
banged behind them. doer
As she was getting into the chug-
ging taxicab which stood at the curb
she felt the meshes of the beaded bag
to make sure that her little silver
bottle lay safely within.
No sooner had she laid aside her
cloak and joined Ronny at ‘the door of
the big ballroom, surging with fran-
tic colors, bellowing with the sort of
music which seems to irritate to ac-
tion, than her sardonic escort smiled
beneath his black mask and pointed
toward the refreshment-room.
“This isn’t the Metropolitan Opera
House,” he reminded her. “Every-
body does it here.” :
“You have a memory,” she remind-
ed him as soon as they had seated
themselves in the midst of the clutter-
ed room and he had beckoned to the
waiter who was skipping insanel
back and forth among parti-colored,
gesticulating groups.
“Memory? I have that which hates
memory—a thirst,” he replied as he
slid his finger rapidly down the wine-
list. He turned up his nose at the
brand suggested and urged upon the
waiter the importance of haste. She
knew he had had enough already, but
she had never before seen him una-
musing. :
“They’re still in a torpor,” he said,
pointing to the ball-room beyond, al-
ready over-crowded with swaying cou-
ples. “Of course the Aztecs don’t re-
ally wake up until two. Then they
take off their masks and tell each oth-
er their real names.” :
“I must go before then,” she said
nervously, feeling for the little red
mask which covered the upper por-
tion of her face.
“Why?” For the first time she no-
ticed that the chin below his mask,
was sagging to a jowl and that the
lips were thick and sensual.
“Well—I don’t think I can afford to
be seen here—unmasked.” She knew
it sounded silly, thus badly expressed.
“That's right, my dear. Play safe.
Enjoy a joke as long as you can, but
never let it come to a point. If you
do that you'll last a long time, but
you'll never hear any good jokes.”
He turned away sullenly and she
wondered just how drunk he was. A
startlingly unclad girl at the next ta-
ble, her limbs flashing through chiffon
trousers of a Turkish pattern, her
bodice cut down almost to her waist-
line, had caught the gleam of the sil-
vered champagne bucket approaching
Ronny’s table and was bidding openly
for favor.
“Any time you're neglected over
there,” Ronny was saying gallantly.
“Oh!” giggled the temptress, “you
know me, Al!”
The wine was bubbling in the glass
before Alberta’s place. Her feeling
of insult and rage brought to her a
sudden sickening faintness, a numb-
ing pain, as though she had been dealt
a sharp blow in the diaphragm. A
disturbing memory caused her to
raise her glass hastily and drain it at
a gulp . . the specter vanished al-
most at once, the wine began singing
in her head. She became merry, reck-
lessly forgiving.
“Yoy don’t mind my behaving like
an ass, do you, Bertie?” he asked,
swimming back into her sphere. “I
should loathe you if you were any-
thing else—I hate affectations,” she
assured him.
“Well, here’s to——" he began, then
looking over into her glass “But
you’ve finished yours already. Sol-
itary!”
“That’s something that can be cur-
ed by a little more of the same,” she
smiled. She was doing splendidly
now, the disturbing faintness entirely
gone. Ronny brought up the bottle
and refilled her glass.
Alberta, as again she drank, won-
dered at the deep, serene satisfaction
which the wine imparted to her. Never
since her debutante days had intoxi-
cation seemed so wonderful a thing.
Her nerves had been jangled and
numb by turns during this trying
week and, up to tonight, she had be-
gun to think that liquor had lost its
power of stimulation for her... Ron-
ny ‘was raising his glass to the semi-
nude beauty at the next table. The
act seemed immensely exciting, free,
suggestive of adventure. The girl
turned toward Alberta, holding up her
beautiful arm and displaying her reg-
ular teeth; and Alberta found herself
toasting her bold rival with unneces-
sary enthusiasm .. . . without more
ado the unknown came over and took
the chair next to Ronny.
“It’s about time you old married
people were mixing in a little bit,”
giggled the girl, reaching across and
helping herself from Ronny’s half-
empty glass.
“That’s just what I’ve been telling
my bride,” responded Ronny heartily.
Alberta coul see him winking
through the nearest eye-hole and the
joke seemed overpowering.
“Bride!” trilled she of the pearly
shoulders. “My word—honeymoon
stuff! Well, here’s to happiness!”
Out of nowhere, so it appeared,
another glass had swum to the table
and everybody was filling up again.
Ronny was frankly holding the pink
hand at the end of the beautiful arm.
It seemed wonderfully jolly and non-
sensical . . . Ronny has said that this
ball only began to wake up at two
o'clock. . . . Alberta found herself
laughing at a vision of what it would
look like at the moment of resurrec-
tion. The next moment she felt
ashamed and self-conscious, fearful
that someone had witnessed her maud-
lin hilarity. Nobody had, apparently.
In this wonderful fairyland people
met by collision and became fast
friends. What a blissful way! If all
the dull world could be arranged like
that. Alberta found herself looking
about among the crowd .... after
all, she was a trifle tired of Ronny
Prawl. She wanted to dance.
Through the jam of ciose-locked
chair-backs a very tall gladiator came
struggling along, following closely
upon a very short girl in an ill-fitting
Peter Pan costume. As a disembodied
spectator Alberta was filled with an
amused curiosity, for the couple were
obviously quarreling.
“Wanda, be reasonable!” he was
pleading as they came near her chair.
“I don’t want to,” she replied firm-
ly; and seated herself in the chair
next to Alberta.
“I was crazy to dance with you
right along,” he insisted, bending over
and king as confidentially as
though the two had had the room to
themselves. :
“Oh, let me alone! I prefer to see
you dancing with somebody else.”
The gladiator raised himself to his
full stature. Alberta was full of won-
der that he should be so concerned,
because the girl was small and scraw-
ny with mud-colored hair unbecom-
ingly bobbed below the ears.
“Oh, well,” began the man, pausing
on the verge of an escape.
“T’ll dance with you,” suddenly vol- |
unteered Alberta; and the next mo- |
ment the tall one was escorting her |
mock-ceremoniously toward the danc-
ing floor. His bare legs and arms
showed lean and skinny outside his
diaphanous costume and Alberta, in
her amusement, found herself com-
paring him to some comedian she had
seen in a musical show. As they join-
ed the whirling couples he clasped
her violently. She was wild to dance,
for that same vacant, disturbing feel-
ing under her breast was again haunt-
ing her.
The tall gladiator said his name
was Sammy; and Alberta, reaching
out for something short and easy to
remember, assured him that hers was
Ida. Ida and Sammy did very well,
although he was a sodden dancer who
followed the variations in the fox-
trot with the air of one undergoing a
severe mental strain. His romance,
too, was disappointing, for it turned
out that the Peter Pan was his sister
and she had been scolding him for his
all-too-brotherly neglect.
Alberta stopped wearily at the end
of the first dance, lacking the heart
for the encore. Her knees were trem-
bling curiously and she found herself
asking the Roman athlete to take her
back to her table. This he did rath- |
er meagerly; for he forsook her a |
good five yards from that destination,
fleeing with a feeble apology. The
appearance of the table had greatly |
changed, she found, as soon as she |
had sunk weakly down into her chair, |
for the little Peter Pan sat all by her- |
self, guarding a circle of vacant!
chairs.
“Your knight is wandering,” said,
Peter Pan, turning her little scrawny |
face toward Alberta. “He says he’s |
your husband, but I don’t think heis. |
Anyway, he’s pie-eyed and I think |
he’ll continue to wander quite a while
now that he’s fallen under Colline’s |
tender clutches. That girl comes to
all the dances and hovers around like
the man-eating pest she is—heigho!
She’s really very pretty.”
The grotesque little Peter Pan said
this in a tone more of sadness than of
envy as she raised her thin fingers to
her colorless mop of hair and regard-
ed Alberta through the eye-holes of
her mask. Alberta sat back and re-
turned the glance coollly, determined
to dislike this ill-favored, presumptu-
ous creature who clung to her like a
vocal, confidential burr.
“My name’s Wanda Holt,” said the
girl brusquely.
“And mine’s—er—Ida Warren,” re-
plied Alberta as glibly as she could.
“You're pretty, too,” decreed Peter
Pan. “I thought at first you were
wearing a wig, your hair’s so remark-
able. You see it occasionally in Swed-
ish girls—sifted moonlight. Are you
ordinarily so pale?”
“I—I thing I'm a little faint,” Al-
berta found herself confiding to this
amazing interloper. The panic was
growing upon her. If only she could
get away somewhere and take another
dose from the little silver bottle.
“Waiter!” Peter Pan was tapping
an empty glass noisily on the table.
“Bring two Scotch highballs--at
once,” she commanded as soon as the
man swayed into their ken. .
“Thank you,” Alberta permitted
herself. “It isn’t anything serious.
I'm merely a trifle tired.”
“You ought to be home and in bed,”
replied Peter Pan definitely. “These
dances are silly things. I don’t know
why in the world I ever come to them.
A pretty girl, of course, has the ex-
cuse of her vanity. But for an ugly
little predestined spinster like me—"
Again she sat and regared Alberta,
her knuckles under her long chin.
“I certainly don’t come here to be
fussed over by men. I’ve got too
much sense for that, even if I am a
rotten band painter. My vanity went
when I cut my hair off.” She turned
her head and showed the ugly, bobbed
ends. “It was awful hair, dull and
stringy; and when I snipped it off I
knew I was removing once for all my
false hopes of having a man to look
at me. I've been much happier since
then. You see, I love beauty and the
only article of interior decoration I
positively detest is a mirror.”
By now the waiter had set between
them two glasses in which ice melted
languidly amidst a flat amber fluid.
“I’m paying for it,” volunteered
Wanda Holt generously, flapping a |
twenty-dollar bill on the table. “Sam-
my told me to hold his meney—no
pockets in that ancient Roman night-
shirt he’s wearing.”
Alberta lifted the glass and drank
rapidly, for a great weight seemed to
be forcing itself against her lungs
and she was ready to scream for air
. . . . nervousness, she assured her-
self time and again, only to behold the
bogie coming toward her, enlarged
with every reappearance. She was
now growing wild to get away and
take her ten drops from the little bot-
tle; but she had a self-conscious fear
that her legs would give out to the
laughter of this abominable crowd.
She emptied her glass at one feverish
draught. It brought stimulation to
her heart and chased away the curious
oppression. Her brain cleared and
she felt quite strong again as she got
to her feet.
“Not going,” asked Wanda, half-
rising at her elbow.
“Yes, I think so—I——"
In fact, Alberta was scarcely con-
scious of what she was doing. She
was dominated by an instinct to get
out while still she had strength to
control her movements. She did not
wish to call on the drunken and dis-
appointing Ronny. She wanted to be
let alone, to take her medicine and be
restored.
“You're not going without your—”
Wanda was protesting beside her.
“I'm not far from home,” respond-
ed Alberta feebly.
. Another voice seemed to be speak-
ing for her yers distinctly and other
legs seemed to bear her straight and
well out of the crowded room, into the
big hall. It was only as she was
mounting the stairs toward the cloak-
room that it came upon her again,
this time as though her lungs were
bursting and a great maelstrom were
driving round and round in her head.
She must take her medicine now or
die, she felt, and clutched wildly for
her beaded bag. It was not over her
wrist. She had left it at the tablein
that awful, jumbled cafe.
Dimly beside a pile of wraps she
saw a vacant chair and into this she
sank quite helpless. She closed her
eyes against the whirling world and
(Continued on page 7, column 1).
Health and Happiness, Number 47
Cereal Foods---Continued.
Fig. 4.—Half a cup of oatmeal before and after cooking.
The text and illustration of this article are from Farmers Bulletin, 817, United States
Department of Agriculture.
PREPARED CEREALS.
One of the important differences between these preparations depends on
whether or not any of the outer coating of the kernel has been left in. This
coating consists mainly of bulky cellulose, but it also contains a large part of
| the important tissue-forming mineral compounds and body-regulating sub-
stances found in the grain. When the bran is left in, the preparation is more
bulky and contains more of some food elements. On the other hand, it does
not always keep as well and (in the case of flour) does not make as light
bread, and is not so thoroughly digested. Evidently, then, the choice of cereal
foods should depend on the purpose they are to serve. If bread or breakfast
cereals are used as the chief part of a meal or of a diet which does not include
much of vegetables, fruits, milk, and eggs, and which, therefore, may be lack-
ing in bulk and mineral salts, it is well to choose the bran-containing prepa-
‘rations. This should be especially remembered in considering the diet of chil-
dren, for they need more body-building mineral compounds and body-regulat-
ing substances than adults. If, on the other hand, the diet in general is var-
ied and if flour is to be used for cakes, pastry, and general cooking, white
flour is more useful than coarser whole-wheat or graham flour.
DISHES MADE OF CEREALS.
These include porridge and cereal mush, breads, cakes, puddings, pies,
ete. There are even greater differences among this group of cereal foods as
they appear on the table than among those from which they are prepared,
because they are made in so many different ways and combined with so many
different things. The cooking has made them pleasanter to eat. It is com-
monly believed that they are more readily digested cooked than raw. The
differences in appearances are shown in figures 2, 3, and 4.
* Ordinarily more or less water or some other liquid is added in cooking
cereals, and the water that they thus take up makes them much bulkier and at
the same time more dilute. One cupful of uncooked oatmeal or rice, for in-
stance, cooked with three cupfuls of water gives over four cupfuls when boil-
ed, but the water, which chiefly causes the difference, does not give to the en-
tire four cupfuls any more body fuel or building material than was in the
original cupful. Hence we must not judge the food value of cooked cereals
merely by the size of the finished dish, but must remember that the raw ma-
terial has been diluted, so that a cupful cooked may have only a quarter the
food value of a cupful of the raw grain. The body-building protein, which
makes up about one-eighth of the raw grain, makes up only about one-fiftieth
of the weight of cooked porridge.
If the cereal were cooked in skim milk, which itself is rich in protein,
this valuable material would be taken up by the cereal and the cooked dish
would be by that much more nutritious than if cooked in water. A cupful of
rice cooked slowly in a double boiler can be made to take up six cupfuls of
skim milk, and the amount of tissue-building material the cooked dish con-
tains is about four times as great as that of the rice alone.
In the same way the total food value of bread, cakes, etc., depends on all
the materials from which they are made. If bread is mixed with water, its
food value is about like that of the flour which goes into the loaf, for little
besides water is added, and almost nothing is taken away in making the bread.
Measured pound for pound, the bread has a lower food value than the flour,
because it is moister, owing to the water added in mixing the dough. If skim
milk is used in the place of water in mixing bread, this makes the bread rich-
er in body-building material. If a little sugar and fat are added, these make
it more useful as body fuel. A cake made with two eggs provides more body-
building material than one made with one egg, and if nuts and raisins are
added, these add to the food value as well as to the flavor.
HOW MUCH CEREAL FOOD SHOULD BE USED?
Cereal food of one kind or another forms a large part of almost every
wholesome and economical diet. As a general rule, the greater the part play-
ed by cereals the cheaper the diet. Up to a certain point one may cut down
the quantity of meat, etc., eggs, butter, sugar, fruits, and vegetables used and
substitute cereal foods, but there is a limit beyond which this can not be safe-
ly done. The sample day’s ration for a family of father, mother, and three
young children, published in “Watchman” June 14, was planned to use cereals
as freely as is considered wise. It contained about 43% Dosnds of bread, or its
equivalent in a variety of cereal foods, 2 quarts of milk, 12 pounds of medi-
um-fat meat, 10 ounces of butter or other fat, 2 pound of sugar, and 4 or 5
pounds of fruits and vegetables. In this diet the cereal foods supply about
one-half of the protein.
When a housekeeper tries to reckon how much of the family food is fur-
nished by articles from the cereal group, the dishes in which more or less of
some cereal preparation is combined with things from other groups prove
. more troublesome than the simpler ones, such as bread and breakfast cereals.
Though it is rather hard to know exactly how much flour, corn meal, corn-
starch, or other cereal will be used in cooking on any one day, it is fairly easy
to notice how much is used each week for perhaps a month, and from this to
estimate the average daily amount. By noticing this she will not only learn
how much nourishment her family is getting from the cereal foods used in
| cooking, but she may also discover ways of economizing either by preventing
waste or by using more of the simple and relatively inexpensive foods made
from cereals, such as desserts and other dishes in which the flavor of sugar,
spices, or fruit, cheese, meat, etc., gives pleasant variety.
BREAKFAST CEREALS.
Next to their use in bread, etc., in this country, the most common way of
using the cereals for food is in the form of the so-called breakfast foods.
Sometimes, as in the case of rice, cracked wheat, and old-fashioned or “Scotch”
oatmeal, the grains are simply husked and perhaps slightly crushed before
being cooked. Sometimes meals are used, as in cornmeal mush. Sometimes
the grains are ground rather finely and the outside parts sifted out, as in fa-
rina. In other cases, as in the rolled-oat preparations, the grain is cleaned,
partially cooked by steam, and then run between rollers, which flatten it out.
n still other preparations the partly cooked cereal is ground into fine, gran-
ular form, or pressed into thin flakes which are baked crisp, or the whole
grains are cooked under pressure so that they puff or pop up somewhat as
does popped corn, which may be used as a breakfast cereal as well as in oth-
€r ways.
COOKING BREAKFAST CEREALS.
There are several practical points to remember in cooking cereals.
is that there is more danger of not cooking them enough than of cooking them
too much. Uncooked cereal preparations, like cracked wheat and coarse samp,
need several hours’ cooking, and are often improved by being left on the back
of the stove or in the fireless cooker over night. Cereals partially cooked at
the factory, such as the rolled or fine granular preparations, should be cooked
fully as long as the directions on the package suggest.
Flavoring is also an inporteni pant of cooking cereals. The flavor most
commonly added is salt. Such added flavor is perhaps less necessary in some
of the ready-to-eat kinds which have been browned at the factory and have
thus gained the pleasant flavor which also appears in the crust of bread and
cake or in toast, but in the plain boiled cereals or mushes the careful use of
salt in cooking them may make all the difference between an appetizing and
an unpalatable dish. A good general rule is 1 level teaspoonful of salt to
each quart of water used in cooking the cereal.
Milk, cream, butter, sugar, or sirup are often added to breakfast cereals
when they are eaten and make them more palatable to most persons. The
materials also add to the food value of the whole dish. Too much sugar or
sirup should not be used, especially by children, as it may spoil the taste for
other important foods. If cereals are properly salted most persons will not
wish to use as much sugar as they otherwise would.
When in cooking cereal is placed in boiling water it must be constantly
stirred to prevent its growing lumpy. This means unnecessary work, because
ordinarily if the cereal is placed in cold water and heated slowly it needs no
stirring at all; it will not lump. The best way to heat it slowly is in a double
boiler, though with care it can be cooked directly on top of the stove. If so
cooked stirring is necessary only when very large quantities are prepared and
the upper part presses heavily on the lower part or when the cereal itself is
very fine.
One |
STIR
| NURSING AS A CAREER FOR
WOMEN.
The Patriotic Service of the Married
Nurse.
By Jane A. Delano, Director of the
partment of Nursing of the
Red Cross.
De-
American
Married nurses by the hundred are
“brushing-up” their knowledge of
nursing, preparing to give part of
their time to the hospitals or other
local nursing activities. The Ameri-
can Red Cross is calling for thousands
more graduate nurses for war duty,
and these married nurses are volun-
teering to give their service, that more
nurses may be released for war work.
Nursing as a profession has made
a marked scientific advance in the
past few years; and women who have
been out of touch with the training
for even a short time are eager to
have a more up-to-date knowledge of
the new methods, and skill in the deli-
cate work that is now required. Wil-
lingness and sympathy, necessary as
these are, are no longer enough. It
is by new, exacting tasks that many
lives are saved which in a former war
would have been lost.
Some of these married nurses are
taking this post-graduate work in
organizations or in the various
. hospitals, some with visiting nurses’
branches of public health work.
Today there is an unprecedented de-
mand for all literature on the subject
of modern nursing. And in great
numbers, women who have formerly
been nurses are making application
for all kinds of information regarding
the nursing situation and how to be
of service to the American Red Cross
and the Army and Navy Nurse corps.
_ The creation of an adequate nurs-
ing force for the army and navy,
which will require 25,000 graduate
nurses this year, leaves the ranks of
nurses in the civil hospitals seriously
depleted. To fill in the vacancies a
line of adjustment is being made be-
tween the homes and the hospitals.
+ The graduate nurse in hospitals or on
private duty is appealed to to enter
military service. Young women are
urged to enter hospital training
schools. Women who were nurses be-
fore their marriage are being encour-
aged to give part of their time to
nursing.
Twenty Sheep for Each Soldier.
The wool from 3,600,000 sheep is
required to clothe and equip Pennsyl-
vania’s 180,000 men in the army and
navy of the United States, and the
State has only a third of the necessa-
ry sheep, Agricultural Secretary Pat-
ton says. Mr. Patton says the State
is derelict in its duty and will remain
so until it restocks its farms with
sheep.
An increase of only 8 per cent. in
the number of fleeces clipped this year
as compared with 1917, and a total
weight of 4,264,700 pounds of wool is
reported by the Bureau of Statistics.
The farmers, who several years ago
took the department’s advice and now
have large flocks of sheep, are reap-
ing handsome dividends.
“It is estimated that the army and
navy need 300,000,000 pounds of wool
for the year,” said Secretary Patton.
“Pennsylvania’s total production of
only 4,025,000 pounds is only about
half what it should produce. It is es-
timated that there must be 20 sheep
back of every soldier. This State has
only a third of what it should have.”
The Agricultural Department also
declared that there was an increase of
6 per cent. in the spring pigs this
year, which will mean a corresponding
increase in the State’s pork produc-
tion. Counties which show an in-
crease over average years are Alle-
gheny, Bedford, Beave , Blair, Car-
bon, Centre, Chester, Delaware,
Greene, Lawrence, Lehigh, Mifflin,
Monroe, Perry, Sullivan, Susquehan-
na, Washington and York.
Cities to Aid Kansas Harvest.
Topeka, Kan.—Kansas has begun
the work of recruiting a farm army
of 30,000 men from the cities of the
State to help in the wheat, rye, bar-
ley and oats harvest of the State this
year. The present indications point
to a wheat yield of about 110,000,000
bushels, an oats yield of around 60,-
000,000 bushels and a rye yield of 10,-
000,000 to 15,000,000 bushels.
A special commission was named
by the Governor to co-operate with
the United States labor director for
Kansas, E. E. Frizell, of Larned, in
obtaining city labor for the harvest.
For three weeks a canvass was made
of men of the farms. and those farm
laborers of near-by States who might
be available for harvest help. This
left approximately 30,000 men needed
from the cities of the State to carry
on the harvest.
The commission worked out quotas
for every city of more than 2000 pop-
ulation in the State. The quota was
based upon 23.64 per cent. of the male
population between the ages of 18
and 44. Many industrial institutions
and business houses employing com-
mon labor will release some of their
men to help in the harvest. It is es-
timated that from 18,000 to 20,000
men will be available from the labor-
ing classes of the cities. From 10,-
000 to 12,000 men must come from the
business houses and offices.
Pig Farm.
A new way of earning money for
the Red Cross and at the same time
saving $25.00 a month to the govern-
ment has been found by New York
women, who have installed a large
pig farm near Camp Mills so that the
pigs can fatten on the camp garbage,
which the government now pays to
have removed.
——1I have been in France. I re-
alize now more than ever before that
my son’s life was not given in vain.
I came away with the conviction that
every man, no matter what his life,
will pass into the life beyond. And
then, too, came through the gracious
agency of God that other thought—
came so clearly and vividly I know it
is true—that out beyond I will rejoin
my boy—Harry Lauder.
Eighth German | War Loan.
Amsterdam, Holland. — Subscrip-
tions from the army to the eighth
German War Loan total 1,435,000
marks, according to advices from Ber-
lin. This brings the total of the loan
up to 15,001,425,000 marks, according
to Berlin dispatches.
wl
9