“OUTWITTING
THE HUN”
By
LIEUTENANT
PAT O'BRIEN
DOGG HOOOP
by Pat Alva O'Brien
(Concluded from last week).
The possibility of escape from Hol-
land is always there, but the British
authorities have an agreement with
the Dutch government to send refu-
gees back immediately. In this re-
spect, therefore, the position of a man
who is interned is worse than that
of a prisoner who, if he does succeed
in making his escape, is naturally re-
ceived with open arms in his native
land. Apart from this restraint, how-
ever, internment, with all its draw-
backs, is a thousand times, yes, a mil-
lion times, better than being a prisoner
of war in Germany.
It seems to me that when the war
is over and the men who have been
imprisoned in Germany return home,
they should be given a bigger and
greater reception than the most vie-
torious army that ever marched into
a city, for they will have suffered
and gone through more than the world
will ever be able te understand.
No doubt you will find in the Ger-
man prison camps one or two faint-
hearted individuals with a pronounced
yellow streak who voluntarily gave
up the struggle and gave up their lib-
erty rather than risk their lives or
limbs. These sad eases, however, are,
I am sure, extremely few. Nine hun-
dred and ninety-nine out of a thousand
of the men fighting in the allied lines
would rather be in the front trenches,
fighting every day, with all the horrors
and all the risks, than be a prisoner
of war in Germany, for the men in
France have a very keen realization
of what that means.
But to return to my day in Rotter
dam,
After I was fixed up I returned to
the consulate and arrangements wer»
made for my transportation to Eng-
land at once. Fortunately there was
a boat leaving that very night and I
was allowed to take passage on it.
Just as we were leaving Rotterdam,
* the boat I was on rammed our own
convoy, one of the destroyers, and in-
jured it so badly that it had to put
back to port. It would have been a
strange climax to my adventure if the
disaster had resulted in the sinking
of my boat and I had lost my life
while on my way to England after
having successfully outwitted the
Huns. But my luck was with me to
the last, and while the accident re-
sulted in some delay our boat was not
seriously damaged and made the trip
over in schedule time and without fur-
ther accident, another destroyer hav-
ing been assigned to escort us through
the danger zone in place of the one
wihch had been put out of commis-
sion.
When I arrived in London, the re-
action from the strain I had been
under for nearly three months imme-
diately became apparent. My nerves
were in such a state that it was abso-
lutely impossible for me to cross the
street without being in deadly fear
of being run over or trampled. I stood
at the curb, like an old woman from
the country on her first visit to the
city, and I would not venture across
until some knowing policeman, recog-
nizing my condition, came to my as-
sistance and convoyed me across.
Indeed, there was a great number of
English officers at home at all times
“getting back their nerves” after a
long spell of active service at the
front, so that my ‘condition was any-
thing but novel to the London bob-
bies.
It was not many days, however, be-
fore I regained control of myself and
felt in first-class shape.
Although the British authorities in
Holland had wired my mother from
Holland that I was safe and on my
way to England, the first thing I did
when we landed was to send her a
cable myself,
The cable read as follows:
“Mrs. M. J. O’Brien, Momence, Ill, U.
S. A.
“Just escaped from Germany. Let-
ter follows.”
As I delivered it to the cable dis-
patcher I could just imagine the ex-
ultation with which my mother would
receive it and the pride she would
feel as she exhibited it amcng her
neighbors and friends.
I could hear the volley of “I told
you so’s” that greeted her ‘good tid-
ings.
“It would take more than the kaiser
to keep Pat in Germany,” I could hear
one of them saying. :
“Knew he'd be back for Christmas,
anyway,” I could hear another re-
mark. ,
“I had an idea that Pat and his
comrades might spend Christmas in
Berlin,” I could hear another admit-
ting, “but I did not think any other
part of Germany would appeal to him
very much.” .
“Mrs. O'Brien, did Pat write you
how many German prisoners he
brought back with him?” I could hear
still another credulous friend inquir-
ing.
It was all very amusing and grati-
fying to me and I must confess I felt
quite cocky as 1 walked into the war
department to report.
For the next five days 1 was kept :
very busy answering questions put to!
me by the military authorities regarg- |
ing what I had observed as to condk
tions in Germany and behind the lines.
What I reported was taken down
by a stenographer and made part of
the official records, but I did not give
them my story in narrative form. The
information I was able to give was
naturally of interest to various
branches of the service, and experts !
in every line of government work took |
it in. turns to question me. One morn- |
ing would be devoted, for instance, |
to answering questions of a military
nature—German methods behind the |
front line trenches, tactics, morale of
troops and similar matters. Then the
aviation experts would take a whack '
at me and discuss with me all I had
observed of German flying corps
methods and equipment. Then, again,
the food experts would interrogate
me as to what I had learaed of food
conditions in Germany, Luxembourg
and Belgium, and as I had lived pretty
close to the ground for the best part
of seventy-two days I was able to give
them some fairly accurate reports as
to actual agricultural conditions,
many of the things I told them prob-
ably having more significance to them
than they had to me.
There were many things I had ob-
served which I have not referred to in
these pages because their value to us
might be diminished if the Germans
knew we were aware of them, but
they were all reported to the authori-
ties and it was very gratifying to me
to hear that the experts considered
some of them of the greatest value.
One of the most amusing incidents
of my return occurred when I called at
my bankers in London to get my per-
sonal effects.
The practice in the Royal Flying
corps when a pilot is reported mis-
sing is to have two of his comrades :
assigned to go through his belongings, |
check them over, destroy anything |
that it might not be to his interest to |
preserve, and send the whole busi-
ness to his banker or his home, as the |
case may be. Every letter is read’
through, but their contents is never |
afterwards discussed or revealed in
any way. If the pilot is finally ve- |
ported dead, his effects are forwarded
to his next of kin, but while he is of- .
ficially only “missing,” or is known to |
be a prisoner of war, they are kept |
either at the squadron headquarters |
or sent to his bankers. i
In my case as soon as it was learned |
that I had fallen from the sky, it was
assumed that I had been killed and
my chum, Paul Raney, and another
officer detailed to check over my ef-
fects. The list they made and to
which they affixed their signatures.
as I have previously mentioned, is
now in my possession and is one of
the most treasured souvenirs of my
adventure.
My trunk was sent to Cox & Co. in
due course, and now that I was in |
London I thought I would go and claim |
it. -
plied to the proper window for my ;
mail and trunk. |
“Who are you?” I was asked rather |
sharply.
“Well, I guess no one has any
greater right to Pat O'Brien's effects
than I have,” I replied, “and I would |
be obliged to you if you would look !
them up for me.” |
“That may be all right, my friend,” .
replied the clerk, “but agcording to
our records Lieutenant O’Brien is a |
prisoner of war in Germany, and we |
can’t very well turn over his effects
to anyone else unless either you pre- |
sent proof that he is dead and that
you are his lawful representative, or
else deliver to us a properly authenti-
ticated order from him to give them
to you.”
He was very positive about it all,
but quite polite, and I thought I.
would kid him no more. i
“Well,” I said, “I can't very well
present proofs to you that Pat O'Brien
is dead, but I will do the best I can to
prove to you that he is alive, and if
you haven't quite forgotten his sig-
nature I guess I can write you out
an order that will answer all your re-
quirements and enable you to give me
Pat™0’Brien’s belongings without run-
ning any risks,” and I scribbled my
signature on a scrap of paper and
handed it to him.
He looked at me carefully through
the latticed window, then jumped
down from the high chair and came
outside to clasp me by the hand.
“Good heavens, leftenant!” he ex-
claimed, as he pumped my hand up
and down, “how did you ever get
away?” and I had to sit right down
and tell him and half a dozen other
people in the bank all about my ex-
periences.
I had been in England about five
days when I received a telegram
which, at first, occasioned me almost
as much concern as the unexpected
sight of a German spiked helmet had
caused me in Belgium. It read as
follows:
When I arrived at thé bank I ap- t
|
“Lieut. P. A. O'Brien, Royal Flying
Corps, Regent's Palace Hotel, Lon-
don:
“The king is very glad to hear of
your escape from Germany. If you
are to be in London on Friday next,
December 7th, His majesty will re-
ceive you at Buckingham palace at
10:30 a. m. Please acknowledge.
“CROMER.”
Of course, there was only one
thing to do and that was to obey ord-
ers. I was an officer in the army and
the king was my commander in chief,
1 had to go, and so I sat down and
sent off the following answer:
“Earl Cromer, Buckingham Palace,
London:
“I will attend Buckingham palace
as directed, Friday, December 7ti, at
i 10:30.
“LIEUT. PAT O'BRIEN.”
In the interval that elapsed, I must
confess, the ordeal of calling or the
king of England loomed up nore
‘dreadfully every day, and I rally
believed I would rather have spent an-
other day in the empty house ir the
big city in Belgium or, say, two nore
days at Courtrai, than to go through
what I believed to be in store for me.
Orders were orders, however, and |
there was no way of getting out Jf it.
As it turned out, it wasn’t half as bad
as I had feared—on the contrary, it
was one of the most agreeable expe-
riences of my life.
CHAPTER XIX.
1 Am Presented to the King
When the dreaded 7th of December !
arrived, I halted a taxicab and in as:
matter-of-fact tone of voice as I eould
command, directed the chauffeur to |
drive me to Buckingham palace, as
though I was paying my regular morn- |
ing call on the king.
My friends’ version of this incident,
I have sinc: heard, is that I seated
myself in the taxi and leaning through
the window said: “Buckingham pal-
ace!” whereupon the taxi driver got
down, opened the door and exclaimed
threateningly:
“If you don’t get out quietly and
chuck your drunken talk, I'll jolly
quick call a bobby, bli’ me, if I
won't!”
But I can only give my word that
nothing of the kind occurred.
When I arrived at the palace gate,
_ the sentry on guard asked me who I
' was and then let me pass at once
up to the front entrance of the palace.
There 1 was met by an elaborately
uniformed and equally elaborately
decorated personage who, judging by
the long row of medals he wore, must
. have seen long and distinguished serv-
ice for the king.
I was relieved of my overcoat, hat
and stick and conducted up a long
stairway, where I was turned over to
another functionary, who led me to
the reception room of Eari Cromer,
the king's secretary.
There I was introduced to another
earl and a duke, whose name I do not
remember. I was becoming so bewil-
dered, in fact, that it is a wonder that
I remember as much as I do of this
eventful day.
I had heard many times that before
being presented to the king a man is
coached carefully as to just how he is
to act and what he is to say and do, |
and all this time I was wondering
when this drilling would commence.
I certainly had no idea that I was to
be ushered into the august presence
of the king without some preliminary
instruction.
Earl Cromer and the other noblemen
ta'ked to me for a while and got me
to relate in brief the story of my ex-
perience, and they appeared to #§
very much interested. Perhaps they
did it only to give me confidence and |
as a sort of rehearsal for the main
. performance, which was scheduled to
take place much sooner than I ex-
pected.
I had barely completed my story
when the door opened and an attend-
ant entered and announced:
“The king will receive Leftenant
O'Brien!”
If he had announced that the kaiser
was outside with a squad of German
guards to take me back to Courtrai
my heart could not have sunk deeper.
Earl Cromer beckoned me to follow
him and we went into a large room,
where I supposed I was at last to re-
ceive my coaching, but I observed the
earl bow to a man standing there and
realized that I was standing in the
presence of the king of England.
“Your majesty, Leftenant O’Brien!”
the earl announced, and then immedi-
ately backed from the room. I be-
lieved I would have followed right
behind him, but by that time the
king had me by the hand and was
congratulating me, and he spoke so
very cordially and democratically
that he put me at my ease at once.
He then asked me how I felt and
whether I was in a condition to con-
verse, and when I told him I was, he
said he would be very much pleased
to hear my story in detail.
“Were you treated any worse by the
Germans. leftenant?”’ he asked, “on
account of being an American? I've
heard that the Germans had threat-
ened te shoot Americans serving in
‘the British army if they captured
them, classing them as murderers,
because America was a neutral coun-
try and Americans had no right to
mix in the war. Did you find that to
be the case?”
I told him that I had heard similar
reports, but that I did not notice any
appreciable difference in my treat-
ment from that accorded Britishers.
The king declared that he believed
my escape was due to my pluck and
will power and that it was one of the
most remarkable escapes he had ever
heard of, which I thought was quite
a compliment, ceming as it did from
the king of England.
“I hope that all the Americans will
give as good an account of themselves
as you have, leftenant,” he said, “and
I feel quite sure they will. I fully
appreciate all the service rendered us
by Americans before the States en-
tered the war.”
At this moment I asked him if I
was taking too much time.
“Not at all, leftenant, not at all!”
he replied, most cordially. “I was
extremely interested in the brief re-
port that came to me of your wonder-
ful escape and I sent for you because
I wanted to hear thefwhole story first-
hand, and I am very glad you were
able to eome.”
I had not expected to remain more
than a few minutes, as I understood
that four minutes is censider.d a long
audience with the king. Fifty-two
minutes elapsed before I finally left
there!
During all this time I had done most
of the talking, in response to the
king's request to tell my story. Occa-
sionally he interrupted to ask a ques-
tion about a point he wanted me to
make clear, but for the most part he
was content to play the part of a lis-
tener.
He secmed to be very keen on every-
thing and when I described some of
the tight holes. I got into during my
escape he evinced his sympathy. Oc-
casionally I introduced some of the
few humorous incidents of my adven-
ture and in every instance he laughed
heartily.
Altogether the impression I got of
him was th he is a very genial,
i gracious and alert sovereign. I know
I have felt more ill at ease when talk-
ing to a major than when speaking
i to the king—but perhaps I had more
cause to.
{ During the
whole interview we
were left entirely alone, which im-
pressed me as significant of the dem-
ocratic manner of the present king
of England, and I certainly came
away with the utmost respect for him.
In all my conversation, I recalled
| afterwards, I never addressed the
! king as “Your Majesty,” but used the
military “sir.” As I was a British of-
ficer and he was the head of the army,
'
BF
The King Had Me by the Hand.
he probably appreciated this manner
the usual “Your Majesty.” Perhaps
he attributed it to the fact that 1
was an American. At any rate, he
i didn’t evince any displeasure at my
! departure from what I understand is
| the usual form of address.
i Before IX left he asked me what my
plans for the future were.
“Why, sir, I hope to rejoin my
: squadron at the earliest possible mo-
ment!” I replied.
“No, Leftenant,” he rejoined, “that
| is out of the question. We can’t risk
losing you for good by sending you
| back to a part of the front opposed
‘by Germans, because if you were un-
fortunate enough to be captured
again they would undoubtedly shoct
{ you.”
“Well, if I can’t serve in France,
| sir,” I suggested, “wouldn't it be feas-
ible for me to fly in Italy or Salon-
fca?”
“No,” he replied, “that would be
almost as bad. The only thing that
| I can suggest for you to do is either
| to take up instruction—a very valu-
, able form of service—or perhaps it
might be safe enough for you to
serve in Egypt, but just at present,
leftenant, I think you have done
enough anyway.”
Then he rose and shook hands with
me and wished me the best of luck,
and we both said “Geod-by.”
In the adjoining room I met Earl
Cromer again, and as he accompanied
me to the door seemed to be surprised
at the length of my visit.
As I left the palace a policeman
and a sentry outside came smartly to
attention. Perhaps they figured I had
been made a general.
As I was riding back to the hotel
in a taxi I reflected on the remark-
able course of events which in: the
short space of nine months had taken
me through so much and ended up,
like the finish of a book, with my be-
ing received by his majesty, the
king! When I first joined the Royal
Flying corps I never expected to see
the inside of Buckingham palace,
much less being received by the king.
CHAPTER XX.
Home Again.
That same day, in the evening, I
was tendered a banquet at the Hotel
Savoy by a fellow officer who had
bet three other friends of mine that
1 would be home by Christmas. This
wager had been made at the time he
heard that I was a prisoner of war,
and the dinner was the stake.
The first intimation he had of my
safe return from Germany and the
fact that he had won his bet was a
telegram I sent him reading as fol-
lows:
“Lieut. Louis Grand:
| “War bread bad, so I came home.
i ~« YPAT.”
He said he would not part with
| that message for a thousand dollars
| Other banquets followed in fast suc-
cession. After I had survived nine of
them 1 figured that I was now in 23
of address more than if I had used |
A
i much danger of succumbing to a sur-
feit of rich food as I had previously
been of dying from starvation, and
for my own protection, I decided to
leave London. Moreover, my thoughts
and my heart were turning back ==
the land of my birth, where I knew
there was a loving mother who was
longing for more substantial evidence
of my safe escape than the cables and
letters she had received.
Strangely enough, on the boat which
carried me across the Atlantic, I saw
an R. F. C. man—Lieutenant Lascel-
les.
I walked over to him, held out my
hand and said “Hello!”
He looked at me steadily for at least
a minute,
“My friend, you certainly look like
Pat O’Brien,” he declared, “but I can’t
believe my eyes. Who are you?”
I quickly convinced him that his
eyes were still to be relied upen, and
ther he stared at me for another min-
ute or two, shaking his head dubi-
ously.
His mystification was quite expli-
cable. The last time he had seen me
1 was going down to earth with a
bullet in my face and my machine do-
ing a spinning-nose dive. He was one
of my comrades in the flying corps
and was in the fight which resulted
in my capture. He said he had read
the report that I was a prisoner of
war, but he had never believed it, as
he did not thick it possible for me to
survive that fall,
He was ore of the few men living
out of eighteen who were originally
in my sqguadron—I do not mean the
eighteen with whom I sailed from
| Canada last May, but the squadron I
joized in France.
As we sat on the deck exchanging
experiences, I would frequently no-
tice Lim gazipg intently in my face
as if he were not quite sure that the
whole proposition was not a hoax
and that I was an imposter.
ing, my trip was uneventful
I arrived at St. John, New Bruns-
wick, and evertually in the little
town of Momence, Ill, on the Kan-
kakee river.
I have said that I was never so
happy to arrive in a country as I was
when I set foot on Dutch soil. Now,
I'm afraid I shall have to take that
statement back. Not until I fically
landed in Momence and realized that
I was again in the town ¢f my child-
hood days did I enjoy that feeling of
absolute security which one never
really appreciates until after a visit
to foreign parts.
Now that I am back, the whole ad-
venture constantly recurs to me as a
dream, and I'm never quite sure that
\ won't wake up and find it so.
(THE END)
What American Meat Packers Are
Doing.
Chicago, Oct. 14. ~American pack-
ers are doing far more than merely
furnishing meat foods to the soldiers
and sailors of the United States and
her allies, according to C. S. Church-
ill, advisory superintendent for
Swift & company, who addressed the
American Meat Packers’ convention
today.
“The general public realizes little
of the work that the packer is doing
to win the war,” said Mr. Churchill.
“We are furnishing a great deal of
material for the manufacture of mu-
nitions, including glycerine, potash,
and sulphuric acid. Our sheep skins
are used to manufacture cold-proof
coats.
. “Every pound of wool that we have
is taken by the government as fast
as we produce it, and the price is fix-
ed by the government.
“There isn’t a pound of stock food
manufactured today that is not being
used to help win the war, because it
goes to put weight on live stock that
is badly needed by our soldiers and
sailors.
“The tons of fertilizer which we
manufacture aid in growing more
crops that will be used later to feed
more soldiers to fight the Hun. Glue
has its uses. Soap certainly is a big
item. Albumen is another highly im-
portant product; it is now used in the
construction of aeroplanes.
“There are also many other pro-
ducts, too numerous te mention, not
one of which, I believe, does not have
an important place in the conduct of
the war.
. “We, of Swift & Co., believe in giv-
ing credit where credit is due and I
want to say that our labor has per-
formed cheerfully the giant tasks set
for us by the Food Administration.
No order has been too big, no job too
overwhelming for them.
“Recognition of this willingness to
serve has resulted in an increase for
male labor totaling more than one
hundred per cent. since February,
1916. In the case of our female help
the increase has been even greater,
this help now receiving 165 per cent.
more than in 1916.”
To take care of the war business,
Mr. Churchill said that all the pack-
ers in the country had been forced to
build new freezers and buildings of
every description at a cost two to
sirse times greater than pre-war
cost.
He paid tribute to the government
inspectors of the Bureau of Animal
Industry and of the army who select
the meat, and said:
“In addition to the safeguard that
this is to the soldier and sailor, it is
a safeguard to us. It safeguards us
from attack from those who for their
own personal aggrandizement or for
other reasons may seek to criticize
unjustly one of the few industries
that in the early days of the war, and
up to the present time, has continued
to supply our government with what
it wanted, as it wanted it, when it
was needed, without quibble as to
price.
“That is a record of which we
should be proud, gentlemen. It dem-
onstrates that we are doing—not our
bit, but our full share toward win-
i ning this war, doing it cheerfully,
| willingly and because we are in this
war to win; and to win. our soldiers
must be fed and fed with goad food.”
AAPA S PS PPPS SS PPPS
$ COURT HOUSE NEWS. $
NASI SCIP IS PPS PPP NSP
REAL ESTATE TRANSFERS.
Central Railroad Co. of Penna. to
Charles F. Schinener, tract in Centre
and Clinton counties; $10.
John P. Sebring to Harry W. Lone-
berger, tract in State College; $4500.
William Slee, et ux, to Max Fin-
berg, tract in Philipsburg; $200.
John Harrington, et ux, to Furst
Harnish, tract in Snow Shoe; $1.
Harry Kaplan, et ux, to William
Slee, tract in Philipsburg; $150.
Prudence Haines to M. F. Stone-
braker, tract in Philipsburg; $2500.
Howard A. Vail, et ux. to Joshua
Hartshorne, tract in Philipsburg;
$2317.50.
Philipsburg Coal & Land Co. to
Yetta Cohn, tract in Philipsburg; $50.
Philipsburg Coal & Land Co. to
Yetta Cohn, tract in Philipsburg; $50.
T. B. Budinger, et al, to W. B. Hall,
‘et al, tract in Snow Shoe; $3000.
Outside of this unexpected meet-
M. D. Kelley, et ux, to Annie Burns,
tract in Snow Shoe; $100.
John H. Zerby, et ux, to W. D. Zer-
by, tract of land in Bellefonte; $151.
Anna Mary Slothers, et bar, to An-
nie Petrof, tract in Rush township;
$1100.
Sarah E. Stover to Calvin F. Gil-
bert, tract in Aaronsburg; $650.
Florence E. Dillen, et al, to John
Foal tract in Huston township;
Geo. H. Yarnell, sheriff, to Ellie
Mandel, tract in Rush township;
$1800.
Guy Hillard to William R. Grazier,
tract in Ferguson township; $300.
Geo. H. Yarnell, sheriff, to Carrie
M. Detwiler, tract in Miles township;
$750.
J. F. Dietz, et ux, to Lycoming Sil-
ica Sand Co., tract in Howard town-
ship; $1500.
Benjamin F. Booth, et ux, to Leon-
ard Smeal, tract in Philipsburg;
$2600.
Mary Watson, et bar, to Solomon
Shay, tract in Milesburg; $600.
Samuel C. Bowers, et al, to Marga-
ret J. Fye, tract in Curtin township;
$400.
John R. Thompson, et ux, to J. F.
Fye, four tracts in Ferguson town-
ship; $1000.
Andrew Moyer, et ux, to Edgar B.
Stover, tract in Haines township;
$1550.
Aaron Leitzell’s Exr’s to Cornelius
Stover, tract in Miles township; $160.
S. Clementine Miller, et bar, to Cor-
nelius Stover, tract in Miles town-
ship; $300.
C. O. Mallory, et ux, to Cornelius
Stover, tract in Miles township; $190.
John G. Uzzell's Admrs. to Geo. B.
Uzzell, tract in Snow Shoe borough
and township; $2000.
Henry Lesh to Horace A. Kauff-
man, tract in Walker township;
$1200.
Carrie M. Strange, et bar, to Annie
M. Sloter; tract in Rush township;
$100.
Sarah C. Culver, et bar, to Dora H.
oa tract in Snow Shoe township;
John M. Myers, et ux, to Eva My-
5 Sheets, tract in Rush township;
A. W. Reese, et ux, to Wm. Daley
Lytle, tract in Worth township; $300.
Leantine S. Alexander, et al, to Sa-
rah R. McCartney, tract in Howard
township; $400.
L. A. Schaeffer, et ux, to Whiterock
Quarries, tract in Walker township;
$685.
Domer Myers to Elizabeth Zigmer,
tract in Rush township; $2000.
Alice M. Stover, et bar, to Fay Sto-
ver, tract in Liberty township; $1000.
MARRIAGE LICENSE.
Curtis A. Woleslagle, and Lillian
E. Stark, Snow Shoe.
J. Calvin Etters, Lemont, and Ella
B. Spyker, State College.
Earl Foster Frazier, Spring Mills,
and Anna Jane Smith, Centre Hall.
Joseph Fleming Leete, North East,
any Helen Kimball Barnard, Philadel-
phia.
Ralph A. Miller, Axe Mann, and
Lorana Bumbarger, Munson.
Robert Edwin Tussey, Tyrone, and
Margaretta M. Goheen, Boalsburg.
Robert Edwin Tussey, Tyrone, and
Margaretta M. Goheen, Boalsburg.
Wm. Haines and Katherine Shir-
ey, Beaver Springs.
Sephares C. Lynn,
Sara Balliet, Milton.
Wayne D. Stitzinger, New Castle,
and Pauline H. Johnston, Bellefonte.
Samuel C. Lehman and Frances R.
Friese, Decatur township.
Russell, R. Hagan, Spring Mills,
and Lillian E. Rohrbacher, Pitts-
burgh.
Berwick, and
Senator Cummings was discussing
a question of monopoly.
“These people,” he said, “remind
me of a chap in a railroad station eat-
ing bar.
“The fellow opened a big sandwich
gingerly, broke off a piece of pickle
and closed the sandwich again. :
“A moment later he reopened .the
sandwich, chose a bit of ham, put the
lid on and munched away quietly.
“Proceeding in this manner he al-
most completely gutted the interior
of the sandwich.
“A gentleman, overcome by curios-
ity, said to him:
“ ‘Excuse me, but why don’t you
eat your sandwich instead of picking
at it in that way?’
“¢Well, you see,’ said the chap,
glancing cautiously around, ‘I can’t
very well. It’s not my sandwich.” ”—
Philadelphia Bulletin.
Pay Debts of Dead Soldiers.
Washington.—The Senate passed a
War Department bill authorizing the
government to reimburse citizens of
France to whom American soldiers,
who have died, were indebted. Ac-
tion on the measure was speeded up
at the urgent request of General
Pershing.