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
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Recipe of Gd: SAMUEL PITCHERS
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A helpful Remedy for I
onstipation and Diarrhoea,
Loss OF SLEEP i
THE GENTAUR COMPANY: §
NEW YORK. _:
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"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
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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!”
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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.