Bera ican "Bellefonte, Pa. January 2, 1920. A NEW YEAR’S MOTTO. I asked the New Year for some motto sweet, , Seme rule of life with which to guide my feet. I asked and paused. He answered soft and low: “God’s will to know.” “Will knowledge, then, suffice, New Year?” I cried; And ere the question into silence died The answer came: “Nay, but remember too, God’s will to do.” Once more I asked: tell?” And once again the answer softly fell: “Is there no more to “Yes; this one thing, all other things above— God’s will to love.” —Anonymous. A RIDE IN THE NIGHT. Weyling turned from the book he was reading and, resting an elbow on the window sill, tried to look out in the dark December night, while he listened to the swirl of rain and the weird whistling of the wind in the hills. It was a most unusual winter. Deep snow had been followed by a spring-like spell of warm weather; and for days an unremitting down- pour of water raged. “Thinking of Mason, Carlton?” his mother asked softly, as she glanced up from her darning. He nodded and turned back to his book mechanically. Over beyond the mountainous hill toward which he had looked lived his business partner. The two young fellows had banded togeth- er a few months previous as carpen- ter-jobbers, with the hope of estab- lishing a building firm. Then the chance of a small contract coming along made trouble. The enthusias- tic Mason was eager to take it. Wey- ling, suspicious of the man offering the work had been more cautious and had finally declined it. The disappointed Mason, admitting Carlton’s authority, had yet question- ed his judgment. A discussion en- sued, argument ,and then something spirited in the way of talk. In the end there had been a burst of unwar- ranted wrath from Mason and a rup- ture of friendly relation as Mason flung himself off. #Too bad!” Mrs. Weyling said with a sigh, “Too bad!” And tomorrow is New Year's. It's a pity to start -Weyling put his book aside a sec- ond time and once more gazed out futilely through the window toward the-high ‘hill whence came the sound of heavy rain, of wind and the roaring, rushing fullness of the ravines. “New Year’s!” Weyling thought of that again. In a few hours the old year would be gone. The idea of start- ing the new one right appealed might- ily to Weyling. Yet until Mason was willing to meet his partner half way there seemed little chance of a truce. ‘Weyling had already, but in vain, dene his best to heal the breach. “Tiere’s just one possibility left, hewever,” he mused hopefully. “Ma- sen might not refuse to make up on the wey eve of New Year's.” The young fellow looked at his mother. She would never approve of his riding late over the lonely moun- tain on a wild night like this. But his mother at that moment, on the plea of a cold, decided to go to bed. A few minutes later Weyling stole quietly from the house and saddled this horse. The trip would involve only three or four miles of riding—of a little slower riding than usual, perhaps, on account of the storm. But that was mothing if by it a wounded friendship could quickly be healed. “It certainly is a bad night,” Wey- ling confessed, as, drawing his rubber coat closer around him, he cantered up the road on the edge of the ravine, between the railroad and the basin sro the car-wheel shops were locat- ‘That basin was peculiarly lic a saucer, with a considerable cup of a pond beside it to hold the water sup- ~ ply of the shop. In the elongated saucer itself were a number of houses for workmen. “I wouldn’t want to be sleeping down In the hole tonight,” Weyling meditated, “if the pond should break loose. Strikes me it would be damp, cold work wading out in one’s back yard to put a hawser on the chicken coop.” Yet inconvenience and decided dis- comfort would have been nearly the whole of the risk in the event of the dam breaking. The pond was com- paratively shallow, and down through the saucer ran a deep <ully capable of carrying off considerable qunanti- ty of extra water. If the pond—full envugh on this soggy night, to be ;sure, and pouring the excess flood over the lip of the dam with a roar— should burst it would doubtless swamp the lower floors of the houses and chase the surprised occupants to the upper rooms. So much, and no wnere, happened occasionally in the spring. “But there is some chance of the weather mending,” said Weyling, with a glance toward the west. “Per- "haps I can visit with Mason until the ‘whistles blow in the new year and then ride home with the moon and a clear way.” Following the ravine road and the tracks until he passed up the Marapo pend, he then turned up a hill road, as steep as a mountain, though shorter. A mile and a half along this would bring him over the crest and down the other slope, where Mason lived. “Mason’s a good fellow, after all,” Weyling ruminated, affectionately. “We’ll just charge up this whole mis- erable business to the profit and loss account of the old year, shake hands, and let it go at that.” . Slowly he climbed the soaked and sember road, with the beat of spatter- ing rain in his face and the sound of ellos wind in his ears. The crash of waters in over-taxed gullies boom- ed on every hand. The storm, far from abating, seemed to search clear to the skin as horse and rider, bend- ing their heads sluggishly forged ! ahead between the restless trees that | bordered the route. Well up the hill the road. turned sharply and ran level beside Half- Way Lake. Swinging around one end of that, it climbed to Superior Lake, which, by another cup-an-saucer fig- ure, eternally poured out a measure of its contents into Half Way. “Tea’s spilling over tonight,” Wey- ling complained with a thoughtful shake of his head when he found that his horse traveled ankle deep on a road flooded by the rising waters. “And, my gracious, old Superior sounds excited!” From up the road came a dull thun- er of waters, as of artillery battling to the death for the possession of Su- | perior. Weyling circled the end of Half-Way and climbed high enough to get a sight of the higher waters. In time with his arrival a huge un- dermined rock near the spillway of the lake tumbled with a bang and a somersaulting pitch down the hillside. The rushing sound of the fighting flood seemed to increase suddenly with a bursting glee. To Weyling’s horror, a big gap showed in the em- bankment which should have held the water back. “Peter,” he said, addressing his horse with a nervous drawing in of the reins, “old Superior is going to rip its shoe-lacings out tonight. Look at it!” The streaming spill of the lake, bulking up with the speed and the force of a railroad train, tore and rip- ped and bellowed, a mile-long and sin- ister body of water behind it murky in the night, the lake’s mouth full of rocks and mud as it foamingly tried to bite out a bigger way of escape. A small tree too curiously close to the edge was snatched savagely from its roots and rushed on for a battering- ram by a torrent which seemed to be irresponsibly “daft” on this night. A big bank of earth suddenly caved in and the volume of outpouring flood re- doubled. The natural dam was fast disintegrating. Comprehending in a flash the full significance of this, Weyling felt the blood recede from his face. He knew the hills well; he knew that if Super- ior, an inland sea now gone mad, should join forces with the lake below the combined strength of the two would literally tear out the side of the hill and send a tidal wave down into the ravine which led to Marapo dam and the car-wheel settlement nestling beneath it. “Peter!” with a jerk on the rein that brought the beast to his haunch- es, the young fellow swung his horse around. A moment later he was plunging, with cap pulled low and body bent forward, in a gallop down the mountain road. “Hurry! Peter, hurry!” he urged by main strength keeping the horse from flinging himself headlong. Then down the grade they swept, past the bulging Half-Way Lake, another mile square of deep flood which waited on- ly for reinforcement to burst its own fetters and storm the valley below in a charge such as had not been seen in nearly a century. “Hurry! Peter,” Weyling urged, while the rain poured off his cap and flooded his eyes. “A hundred lives are all unconscience of this,” he told his herse. Peter reached out his long legs wil- lingly. The trees shot swiftly by as man and beast, panting hard from ex- ertion or excitement, took all the wild chances of the night. Once Peter stumbled and almost fell, and once Weyling ducked just in time to save himself from being swept off the back of his mount. The lighter branches of the unsuspected tree, indeed, whip- ped his face until the blood came. But a miss is as good as a mile. Peter’s leg was unbroken, the anxious rider on his back. The race contin- ued. At the bottom of the hill, with an increasing roar of waters to spur him on, Weyling loosened the rein a trifle. = Unchecked, on the level stretch Peter seemed to flatten down and lengthen out in a burst of speed; the forward-lcaning body of his rider, the quiet but tensely voiced, urgings increased his pace. With every sec- ond telling, the couriers sped on. When the lights of the wheel-shop houses came into view Weyling heard a boom back in the hills like the ex- plosion of a powder works. A sudden wild down flinging of rain at the mo- ment and something like a frightened rush of wind helped his imagination to picture what was happening on the heights. Superior was out of its cage! A tornado of panic-stricken water was cutting like a knife down the sides of the hill, making a gully that would last for ages. Half-Way Lake would be caught in the rush and carried away on the run as easily as a tub of water by a flying express train. A few minutes later and Mara- po dam, overwhelmed, would utterly collapse. But it would first rear itself high above the roofs of the shop ba- sin. And under every roof in the ba- sin there would be sleeping— “Faster! Peter, faster!” The long seemingly unending stretch of level road was covered. With a twitch of the rein, Weyling turned his mount at right angles. Then down another grade pointing to the basin he swept. With a cavalry clatter that rose above the whistling wind and the swish of rain, his horse’s hoofs thundered upon the planks of the bridge which crossed the railroad tracks. Then on, down a sharper grade, swaying his body for- ward as if he would throw his horse forward to the goal, he galloped to- ward the houses. The superintendent’s residence was nearest. With a fling as he wrenched his horse to a stop, Weyling sent the butt of his whip through an unshut- tered and tempting pane of glass. And having made that aperture for his voice, he called in stentorian tones: “Run for your lives!” A startled cry had acknowledged the smashing of the window. The door flung open and in front of the superintendent’s wife stood the su- perintendent himself. “The hill lakes have gone!” Wey- ling shouted, with a backward gesture of his hand. “Listen!” Far above all wild sounds of the night could now be heard the crashing battle of flood and rocks and trees. “The station telephone and the val- ley below!” Weyling reminded him. Leaving the superintendent to send out warnings, he then sped on to the next house. The occupants there had already been roused. Through an open door Weyling espied a gun. i “Fire that thing off, Wilson, and then run,” he ordered. “The whole Atlantic ocean has come ashore.” As Weyling sped on, the rapid spit of the repeating rifle could be heard. Doors opened quickly then; the force of couriers hastening here and there rapidly augmented. With women and ; children first, everybody hurried to the slopes of the basin, which, fortu- nately near, ran up quickly and high enough to top the flood. There was but one more house, down the road near the end of the ba- sin. Weyling rode fast; he knew there was a little time left. The dam breast roared louder, the flood thick- ened at every breath, and somewhere close behind it was a mountain of wa- ter which would end everything. The watchman at the shop had lin- gered to tie his whistle. Its continu- ous, insistent screech rose high in terrified warning. At the house the shout of Weyling added to all else. “Give me the children,” Weyling commanded, and blankets for them.” Catching up the youngsters while the startled mother threw the handiest cover around their night-gowned bod- ies, he sped for the edge of the basin | followed by the men assisting the women. The fast rising edge of the basin was reached, then horse and rider | crashed upward through the under- brush in a wide trail for the others to use. Up and on until, “There she comes!” a voice beside Weyling yeli- ed. “Ceaser! It won't even leave the location of the basin.” ASTORIA =] il Ld HHT iii FU TT TT {| ALGOHOL-3 PEs ii | |! AVegetablePreparationioras-4 | similatingtheFood byRegular i ting the Stomachs and Bowels 1 BEE Thereby Prom ting Digestion heerfulness and Rest Gonfai®h neither Opium, Morphine nor fineral, NoT NARGOTIG Recipe of Gd: SAMUEL PITCHERS Pumpkin See Senna rm — A helpful Remedy for I onstipation and Diarrhoea, Loss OF SLEEP i THE GENTAUR COMPANY: § NEW YORK. _: d I N [OL LE ok : DosSES 7 (11 il 133 = pst "him up the hill from the last house. {Mothers Know That Bears the Signature GASTO With the bellow of a mountain sized } bull, the breast of the dam burst. Over it, scattered in the debris of wreckage like cannister, came a loom- ing mass. And with the combined water of the two hill lakes there seemed to come also all the trees from that mountain forest. With the trunks of these fixed as bayonets, the boiling flood charged upon mill and houses. It was no fair battle. The crazed flood did not even wait for the bayo- nets to transfix the inoffensive build- ings, but, picking them up with the terrifying rush of unreasoning tem- per, it smashed them down again, mere crushed eggshells, and then swept them onward dizzily in a mass of rubbish, itself eager in the race against telegraph and telephone warn- ing for the prey which waited further down the valley. Weyling from the vantage point of the hill, watched the havoc of the sweeping flood. Then, in the half light, his gaze wandered until it fell upon one of those who had followed “Mason!” he “You here?” Mason nodded. “I came over to see you, old man,” he explained, “but you were not at home, so I made a call on Tompson—come near being the last call I ever made, too, didn’t it?” Weyling was taking off his rain- coat to wrap the children more snug- ly. Mason had a heavy garment which he had picked up in his flight. That was brought into service also, and after the children declared themselves more comfortable, Mason turned back to Weyling. : “I was going to stay around,” he continued, drawing Weyling aside in- to a little more privacy, “in the hope of seeing you before midnight and asking you to accept my apology while the old year lasted. There is still time—I am sorry, Weyling.” Weyling felt a hand reach out in| the darkness for his. He took it and | squeezed hard. Then, with a laugh | and a gesture toward the basin, a | mere turbulent lake now, he said: “Everything is wiped out with the old year, Mason. We'll all make a tresh start.”—Classmate. ejaculated. Has No Kick Coming. Guest—I told you I wanted a room so quiet after nine o’clock that you could hear a pin drop, and now I find you've given me one over the bowl- ing alley. Night Clerk—Well, can’t you hear ’em drop ? A Changed Woman. changes “Marriage certainly woman.” “Indeed, yes. There's Edith—be- fore her marriage she clipped nothing from the papers but poems; now she clips nothing but recipes.” a For Infants and Children. Genuine Castoria Always of In Use For Over Thirty Years 13 THE CENTAUR COMPANY, NEW YORK CITY. Ca) UILT like a wagon. B rear wheels track. and rear axle. on. Chain-Driven Exclusively. levers. t=" Just received a carload of Conklin Wagons. Wide-tired wheels. Positively not a worm or cog gear on the machine. The lightest, easiest running and most practical Spreader. Solid bottom bed with heavy cross pieces, and supported by full width of sides. Axles coupled together with angle steel reach ; coupled short, dividing load between front Axle not used as a bearing for gears to run No moving parts on rear axle. All sizes and for all purposes. 62-47 Dubbs’ Implement and Seed Store. PNAS AAA AAPA AAA ANG Front and No clutch. Operated by only two SSNS ISSN SESE Ce |= SAS aa Hearty New Year’s Greetings SH SaaS eae SASH - SASH Sas To Sh SASS 366 days of Happiness! Lobo 1] 13 ShbAER “Toh Uo — SR A A RA Rr ENR HATS our wish to every soul in this gond old town of ours Glad to be on earth! Glad to be on this particular part of the earth. Glad to be on this particular part of this particular part of the earth. “Happy New Year!” Sse e ERE ERA EER eee iene CCU ELUELUelUEURUELUEUEUELURLUEL Ue Ue le NUS NU Ue US Ue Ue eS Ue Ue Ue 2 Fayble’s SUSE EU ELSE EL ELL EL El SEL El EEE El EUS EUSLUEU=0n 4 le Ue Ue led Ue] Ue] lel le] Ue Ue NS UN UST UN UNMIS NUS NUN ESM MUS USED Start the New Year Right While we all hope that 1920 will be freighted with wonderful prosperity for all ; our hopes are not always realized and prudent persons are those who are prepared for any eventu- ality. Start the New Year with a resolution to save wherever it is possible, and place your sav- ings in the Centre County Bank Bellefonte, Pa. where you will be courteously treated and your account properly sateguarded. 60-4 INTERNATIONAL TRUCKS DN, ~u WILL DO ALL YOUR HAULING 3-4 Ton for Light Hauling Big Truck for Heavy Loads “Greatest Distance for Least Cost” GEORGE A. BEEZER, BELLEFONTE, PA. 61-30 DISTRIBUTOR.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers