Pemorralic atc
Bellefonte Pa., March 7, 1919.
GOD’S GIRLS.
I think God took a patch of blue
To make your baby eyes;
They are so much alike, the two—
God’s babies and God's skies.
I think God took a robin’s call
To make your baby words;
I cannot tell your song at all
From music of the birds.
I think God took a woodland rose
To make your baby lips;
They are pink petals like to those
The honey merchant sips.
I think God took a bit of sun
To make your baby curls—
Of all His treasures, ev'ry one,
God Makes His baby girls!
—Douglas Malloch in Woman's World.
THE HISTORY OF THE RED
CROSS—PAINTED NOT
WRITTEN.
(The artist referred to in the following
article is a son of Thomas Burnside, a na-
tive of Bellefonte, and a grandson of
Judge James Burnside, who was promi-
nently identified with the early history of
Bellefonte.—Ed).
Paris.
Six splendid historical war records
in oil, destined for permanent display
on the marble walls of the Red Cross
headquarters in Washington, are com- |
plete today, after seven months of toil,
and are now on their way across the
Atlantic.
Next to the actualities of war pic-
tured in films and photographs by ar-
my Signal Corps workers, Cameron
Burnside, an American artist of the
Paris Latin quarter, has given to the |
American people possibly as great a
gift in vividness as any individual
American in the great war. These
six big oil paintings, 5x6 feet, depict-
ing phases of the work of mercy made
possible through gifts of American
millions, carry the onlooker through
bandage rolling depots, among civil-
ian refugees who fled from invaded
homes, over the lines of communica-
tion, into hospitals, into great ware-
houses and into outpost canteens,
where wearied fighters are receiving
hot things to drink as they come out
of the line. All the paintings are typ-
ical of the stations maintained during
the war by the great relief organiza-
tion, but each portrays a certain one.
Cameron Burnside, the artist, is an
American “internationale,” like many
American habitants of the Paris Lat-
in quarter. His family hails from
Bellefonte, Pennsylvania, and he is a
descendant of Simon Cameron, Secre-
tary of War during the Rebellion and
“father” of the Republican machine in
Pennsylvania,
Burnside was born in London, stu-
died art there in the London Coun-
ty Council school at a fee of about $4
a year, and eventually exhibited his
paintings in the salons of the London
Academy. Later he lived in New
York, and eventually came to Paris
to join the American artists’ colony.
One of his paintings won a medal at
the San Francisco Exposition. - When
the draft law became effective it
caught Burnside in Madrid. He reg-
istered at the American Embassy
there and returned to Paris. A phys-
ical examination designated him for
Red Cross work, and he was assigned
to a warehouse in Paris, where he
shifted and piled boxes of supplies
constantly arriving from America un-
til he became ill.
NO USE IN A WAREHOUSE.
Burnside’s commanding officer ask-
ed him one day what he was good for
aside from piling boxes in a ware-
house.
“I am an artist,” responded
side.
“Well, I don’t believe we can use an
artist in warehouse work,” was the
response. But Burnside though differ-
ently. He suggested that the great
piles of packing cases and bales of
goods and clothing sent to France by
generous people in America—some-
thing unique in history, one nation
aiding the homeless and unfortunate
of a sister nation—should be made a
part of America’s historical records
in oil. The idea caught on in the mind
of the commanding officer, and canvas
and oil and brushes were furnished
and Burnside resumed his work in the
warehouse. Within a month he had
finished the picture. It shows the big
storehouse on the Rue de Chemin Vert
(Street of the Green Way) at its bus-
iest moments, when French poilus
and American workers in khaki, all
unfit for front line duty, were working
their hardest, shifting boxes to make
room for other consignments which
Americans were generously sending
to France for civilian victims of Ger-
many’s warfare during the days of
the big German advance to the Marne.
The warehouse picture was such a
success that it led to the second—a
night scene in the big refugee canteen
at the Gare de ’Est in Paris, where
all varieties of homeless French folks
were gathered and cared for by vol-
unteer workers. White gowned and
white capped nurses are giving what
comfort they can to the aged and
young; mothers with babes, some with
resolute faces, others with the look of
sorrow and despair. An aged nun,
evidently forced to leave some con-
vent and flee with the rest, is shown
in the foreground. Her face has a
tinge of sorrow under its mask of be-
nevolence. She is one of the home-
less herd, bound wherever some one
directs her. All who have seen this
painting agree that the warehouse
worker-artist has touched something
strikingly real.
BANDAGES FOR THE FRONT.
The surgical dressing station in the
Rue St. Didier was the next subject
tackled by Burnside. Here he has
shown a great canvas walled room
filled with white garbed volunteer
workers rolling bandages and assem-
bling surgical packages for the fight-
ing line. You see here faces of young
women who, with different garb,
would be New York society debutan-
tes, or perhaps, spoiled children of
some of America’s best families. For
that is exactly what many of these
bandage rollers were before Uncle
Sam came into the war and provided
them with tasks in which they could
be extremely useful and still main-
tain fashionable self-respect. When
Burn-
1
{ there are also in the picture motherly
i read:
{hard to imagine the story.
Burnside sat down with his easel and
brushes in the old tent-covered ten-
nis court of the Rue St. Didier he also
found other types among the workers.
There is the Dowager of Paris’s
American colony doing her bit dainti-
ly and dressed for the occasion in her
most immaculate white gown and
semi-nurse cap—the same in which
she intends to appear at tea with
some other dowager later in the after-
noon, where relative war work will be
discussed in all thrilling detail. And
looking women who are giving long
hours to it, apparently with pride in
the number of bandages rolled for the
boys “out there at the front” during
a single working day. In this paint-
ing the artist seems to have again
touched character with a certain viv-
idness—a wholly different set of faces
from those found at the refugee sta-
tion in the Gare de Est.
“To the front and back again”
might be the collective title of the ar-
tist’s last three pictures. The first of
the three shows a French way station
at which an American troop train has
just arrived. Red Cross canteen
workers are busy handing up steam-
ing cups of coffee, chocolate and sand-
wiches to American doughboys, who
hang with outstretched hands from
the doors and windows of “third class”
French railway cars. They are on
their way to the front and their faces
tell the story. They have chalked let-
ters on the sides of the cars which
“Berlin or Bust” and “Heaven,
Hell or Hoboken by Xmas,” and the
expression on the various ruddy coun-
tenances gives you to know that these
boasts are not made in vain. The
scene might have been laid at Chalons,
Epernay, Meaux or any railway sta-
tion of like size on French railway
systems. They are all the same, and
at almost every one our relief work-
ers have fed hundreds of thousands
of doughboys and poilus as they pass-
ed through to the battle fields.
“TO THE FRONT AND BACK AGAIN.”
The second picture takes one into
an outpost canteen at Roulecourt,
headquarters of the First Division be-
fore the St. Mihiel offensive. It is in
an old barn within easy charted range
of enemy gunfire, where a lone tallow
candle gives all the light permissible
at night, as the troops file by a rough
counter in single file to receive a
steaming cup of coffee. They are
fresh from their first line positions
and tired. Rays of the candle search
out many faces still tense, faces that
are tense by nerve power alone, be-
cause the slouch of those who file
away to drink the beverage out of line
shows that bodily fatigue is there—
men ready to drink and fall, almost
in their tracks, asleep. Every man
carries his gun over his shoulder and
tin hats are on heads at rakish an-
gles, because in battle positions or in
the zone of fire men seldom observe
dress parade regulations. Mud clings
to their uniforms and many are wet.
The little candle gives all the light
for this painting and it shines in an
uncanny, flickering way on the can-
teen worker—a man in this zone,
whose face also tells you that he is
tired, because he has been pouring
coffee into army mess cups for many
hours. It is a portrayal of war and
history.
The last paintin
tent hospital at the Auteuil race-
course, near Paris. It is summer, and
nurses, outside in the sunshine, mingle
with American boys on crutches, or
lolling about in positions which tell
you of their weakness during conval-
escence. Battles are being refought
here. The main group in the fore-
ground is one of several, one recount-
ing thrilling details of Germans he
killed before one “got” him. It isn’t
It has
been told by every American dough-
boy in every hospital in France the
first moment his returning strength
has allowed him to talk freely. Your
imagination, as you glance at the
painting, will tell you which of those
of the group were wounded in actual
close-up combat and those who stop-
ped a stray piece of shell many kilo-
metres from the first line. There is
a knowing look on the countenances
of some, while others are drinking in
every word. i
I asked a high Red Cross official |
how much money the organization in-
tended to pay Burnside for his seven
months of solid labor on these six big
canvases. {
“NOT A CENT EXTRA.” |
“Not a cent extra,” was the reply. |
“He could have made just as much
money piling crates and boxes out
there in the Chemin de Vert ware-
house. We furnished the material
and he did the work. We are going
to take great care in shipping these
canvases to Washington. They will
be consigned to Henry P. Davison,
who will place them en the walls of
Red Cross headquarters. They are
real American history and experts
have pronounced them high in real
art.”
Meanwhile, Cameron Burnside, after
seven months of work, which, after
all, gains him nothing more than the
high honor of putting history on can-
vas for the American people, is going
back to his little studio at 86 Rue
Notre Dame des Champs, in the old |
Latin quarter, to paint something for |
Cameron Burnside and Mrs. Cameron |
Burnside, formerly Miss Hitt, of Au-
gusta, Ga., also a painter of the Par-
is school. That is, he is going to paint
for a more lucrative market, as he
has done in the same studio for the
takes you fo a.
past ten years, except during Ameri- |
ca’s part in the war. !
But above everything, credit goes |
to this American artist for possibly |
more patriotism with the brush and |
pastel than any other artist in the |
great war. But for a rather delicate
constitution he might still be piling |
boxes in the big warehouse on the Rue |
de Chemin Vert.—New York Tribune, |
February 28, 1919. !
Pessimistic About Egg Prices.
Arkansas Paper—‘“Society note in |
1925: Mrs. Astorbilt wore at the op- |
era last evening a diamond as large
as an ordinary hen egg, but not, of |
course, so valuable.” i
New Disease. |
Arkansas Paper—Bay rum seems
to be the favorite beverage now, with |
a green colored hair tonic running a |
close second. Several of our Beau |
Brummels seem to have a severe case
of dandruff of the liver.
DYNAMITE NOW OBTAINED
FROM FAMILY SUGAR BOWL.
A few cubes of sugar and presto!
A shell breaks over the terrain to
shiver into fragments which maim
and kill. Just a few tablespoonfuls of
molasses and science - is enabled to
blow the gnarled stumps out of the
unyielding earth with the same ma-
terial which makes the farmer wife’s
gingerbread.
By the direction of Daniel C. Ro-
per, the Commissioner of Internal
Revenue of the United States Treas-
ury Department, a new process has
been perfected for obtaining glycer-
ine from sugar and sweets. The ex-
periments on which the report has
been filed were made under the su-
pervision of the chief chemist of the
department, A. B. Adams, a member
of the American Chemical Society.
When Dr. Alonzo Taylor was in
Germany, about two years ago, he
found that the Teutons had run short
of fats from which glycerine is usu-
ally made and had raided the sugar
bowl. It was on his information that
a special laboratory was established
in the United States Treasury and sev-
eral experts, including John R. Eoff,
W. E. Lindner and B. F. Beyer, began
the researches into this method of ob-
taining glycerine.
Pasteur, the noted French chemist,
had years before discovered that a
small quantity of glycerine developed
in the fermentation of sugar as well
as in molasses, and that it was trace-
able in wine and beer. The chemist,
therefore, fermented sugars and mo-
lasses with yeast, and from the mash
thus obtained produced the glycerine.
This glycerine is really a by-product,
and the same fermentation of sugar
which yields alcohol and, in fact, glyc-
erine, itself, is a sweet and bland tri-
hydric alcohol.
The wave of prohibition which is
about to sweep the country will not
stop the distillation of alcohol for in-
dustrial and mechanical purposes and
for fuel. There will probably be more
alcohol distilled than ever before, but
it will be denatured and made abso-
lutely unfit for drinking purposes.
The manufacturing chemists of the
United States are preparing none the
less to produce it on a larger scale
than ever before, subject to the super-
vision of the Department of Internal
Revenue.
Several large concerns are making
alcohol from cheap molasses brought
from the West Indias. This molasses,
which is inedible, is known as “black
strap.” The Treasury Department of
the Internal Revenue chemists have
been able, however, to ferment it and
to obtain not only alcohol, but to so
use the residue that they get glycer-
ine.
Four lots of “black strap” of 1000
gallons each subjected to the new pro-
cess turned out a very excellent qual-
ity of glycerine. There are 100 gal-
lons of this clear dynamite glycerine,
as it is called, now on exhibition in
the Treasury Department. Samples
of it treated with nitric acid by a well-
known firm of explosive makers, at
the request of the government produc-
ed as good a nitroglycerine as the
market affords.
Notroglycerine when incorporated
with pulp or other inert substance be-
comes dynamite. Thus out of the sim-
ple sweets of the sugar bowl comes
forth the strength which will rend the
rock.
Now that the war is over the de-
mand for high explosives will not be
so great, but at the same time there
are many uses to which it can be turn-
ed in times of peace. It is especially
valuable for blowing up heavy and
clayey soils which would ordinarily
resist the plow of the farmer. Excel-
lent crops are produced from land
treated in this way. The general
shaking up is conducive to the better
action of the nitrifying bacteria in the
ground.
Glycerine
staff would say.
played in their life.
beautifying
Ledger.
Ducks Trapped With Phonograph.
Ben Woolner, former city attorney,
of Oakland, Cal., is being sought out
by many hunters who wish to inspect
his “duckwerfer.” .
Woolner claims to have originated
a method for attracting wild ducks.
He allowed a duck to dictate into his
phonograph dictating machine and
then installed the machine with its
new record near his post in the marsh.
Wild ducks mobilized from all
points of the compass when Woolner’s
ducks began squawking, and Woolner
says he has shot the legal limit in 15
minutes. :
tion is one of the State’s most imper-
ative obligations.
higher income.
priced scale.
Who Benefits By
High Prices?
You feel that retail
meat prices are too high.
Your retailer says he
has to pay higher prices
to the packers.
Swift & Company prove
that out of every dollar
the retailer pays to the
packers for meat, 2 cents
is for packers’ profit, 13
cents is for operating
expenses, and 85 cents
goes to the stock raiser;
and that the prices of live
stock and meat move up
and down together.
The live-stock raiser points
to rising costs of raising live stock.
Labor reminds us that higher
wages must go hand in hand
with the new cost of living.
No one, apparently, is
responsible. No one, apparently,
is benefited by higher prices and
We are all living on a high-
One trouble is,
that the number of dollars has ail
multiplied faster than the quan- ii
tity of goods, so that each dollar
buys less than formerly.
Swift & Company, U.S. A. |
serves many purposes '
“simple of itself,” as Sir John Fal- |
Not until the scarci- !
ty of fats during the war drew atten-
tion to it anew did the American peo- !
ple realize how important a part it |
It is employed !
for making transparent soaps and |
lotions. — Philadelphia !
Yeager's
Shoe Store
Until they
today.
Bush Arcade Building
$8 Shoes Reduced to $5.50
I have an accumulation of sizes--
8, 874, 9 and 10--in
Men’s Genuine Army Shoes
These shoes sell at $8.00 per pair.
You can Purchase a Pair at $5.50
are All Sold
This is $1.25 less than the Gov-
ernment is paying for Army Shoes
Yeager’s Shoe Store
THE SHOE STORE FOR THE POOR MAN"
58-27 BELLEFONTE, PA. :
Lyon & Co.
New Georgette and
Crepe de Chene Waists
We are receiving new Waists
Braided,
beaded and tucked;
sleeves and collars; all col-
Also Crepe de Chenes
every few days.
ors.
in black and white.
Spring Coats, Capes
and Suits for Ladies
We are showing a wonderful line
of Ladies’ Coats and Suits; also
the new Dolman Cape and Coat.
Everything up to the minute.
teed low: st prices.
new
Rugs, Carpets and Linoleums
See our new Rugs in Wiltons, Axminsters and
Brussels. Also new Carpets, Linoleums, Draperies and
Tapestries at new prices—which means lower than wholesale
price today.
Lyon & Co.
Exqui-
site styles, lovely colorings; guaran-
Lyon & Co. 60-10-1y Lyon & Co.