Bellefonte, Pa., April 16, 1920.
mm
HER ONLY SON.
By Susan L. Harlacher.
1 dreamed one night that heaven's gate
Had opened at my prayer,
And glad, I walked its city streets,
Saw many loved friends there.
A crowd of happy choldren came
Bach singing a glad song,
While each a lighted taper bore;
And as they passed along,
I saw a little lad whose torch
Had never yet been lit;
I asked him why he seemed so sad—
There must be cause for it.
“My mother has not ceased to weep
Since I have gone away,
It is her tears put out my light,
And I am sad alway.”
O mother! Save your tears for those
‘Who lead a life of sin;
Your little lad is safe in heaven
And waits to let you in.
DISCHARGING MARTHA.
The first applicant to respond to
Brice & Pendleton’s advertisement
for an office girl appeared fairly
promising to Tom Page, who was too
busy with tax titles to look very
closely at the young women; so Mar-
tha Pratt, with “country-bred” writ-
ten all over her, was promptly engag-
At first Martha’s innumerable mis-
takes were ascribed to her newness;
but by the end of the first week, when
no improvement was visible, Mr.
Brice, clearing his throat ominously,
waylaid Mr. Pendleton near the street
door.
“By the way, Pendleton,” said he,
“that new girl doesn’t fill the bill.”
“Tell Page to advertise for another
tomorrow,” advised Mr. Pendleton.
“I meant to mention it this noon.
He'd better tell the girl, too. Of
course we'll give her a week’s warn-
ing.”
Martha, however, entertained no
suspicion of this threatening state of
affairs when, the next morning, she
bounced into that quiet office, carry-
ing three substantial buttonhole-bou-
quets.
“My grandmother sent them,”
beamed good-natured Martha, pre-
senting her solid gifts, without a trace
of either coquetry or partiality, to Mr.
Brice, Mr. Pendleton, and Tom Page.
“They're fresh from the country.”
Elderly Mr. Brice glared at the
matter-of-fact girl; Pendleton made
queer, embarrassed noises in his
throat; Tom Page, controlling with
difficulty the twitching corners of his
mouth, pinned his unexpected gift to
the lapel of his coat. Martha, observ-
ing nothing and apparently entirely
satisfied with herself, retired to her
own corner.
Indeed, Martha was not observant. | dorter intelligence; the
| all right. But of course
she had been, she would
have made a more satisfactory assist-
ant. As it was, she had much to
learn; but unfortunately, no one In
that busy office possessed either the
time or the inclination to struggle
with incompetence. Not only was
Martha’s ignorance of office methods
colossal, but the girl seemed disorder-
ly and untidy to an astonishing de-
gree. Her desk was always in confu-
sion. Her figures staggered down the
page like a rail fence on end. Her |
writing was smeared with blots. She!
eyed these with good-natured toler- |
ance. i
«I never could use ink without spill- |
ing it,” she confessed to Tom Page. |
“We Pratts are generous even with
our ink.” Lo
Yet, in spite of the general untidi-
ness of Martha's belongings, about
the girl herself there was a clean
wholesomeness that was rather pleas-
ing. She was not a pretty girl. Her
countenance was too broad, too freck-
led, too ruddy for beauty; but the lines
of her large mouth were neatly cut,
and her big brown eyes fairly beam-
ed with honesty and kindliness.
However, in the frigid atmosphere
of Brice & Pendleton’s it was not cus-
tomary for clerks to beam with any-
thing. Tom Page had recognized that
fact at once, and had promptly sup-
pressed his own natural tendency to-
ward exuberance. But Martha, who
lacked Tom’s keen perception, remain-
ed her simple, kindly, radiant, and
disorderly self.
Of course neither Mr. Brice nor Mr.
Pendleton, with Martla’s unwelcome
gift perched on his desk, could bring
himself to the point of mentioning the
matter of Martha’s dismissal that
morning. It seemed too much like be-
traying a trusting child. So, all un-
consciously, Martha had postponed
the evil moment.
Then, before the flowers had quite
faded, beaming Martha appeared one
morning with six splendid big, red
apples in a plebeian yellow paper bag.
“Uncle Ben sent them,” explained
Martha, who, in spite of the announc-
ed fact that she was an orphan, seem-
ed bountifully supplied with country
relatives. “There isn’t another tree
like that in our country. Eat them
right now; they’ll take you back to
boyhood.”
Again Mr. Brice glared at Martha;
again Mr. Pendleton made queer, em-
barrassing noises in his throat; again |
Tom Page struggled with his twitch- |
ing lips. All three were at an utter |
loss of words. But they ate the ap- |
ples, for such perfect fruit was indeed
rare. And again was the moment of
Martha’s dismissal postponed.
Before the memory of those deli-
cious apples had quite vanished, Mar-
tha arrived one rainy morning accom- !
panied by a large circular object,
which she unwrapped on Mr. Brice’s
sacred desk. It was a pie—a huge,
thick, golden pumpkin pie with a ten-
der, fluted crust.
“Aunt Julia made it,” confided ra-
diant Martha. “I noticed you had a
cold, Mr. Pendleton, and I thought
this pie might save your going out to
lunch; but there’s plenty for all--
wait, here’s a knife and three forks.
This is all your pie; I had mine for
breakfast.”
It was certain that no pie had ever
before been eaten in the formal, bus-
inesslike atmosphere of that expen-
sively furnished office. But, little as
Perhaps if
Aunt Julia’s
nonplussed men ate
it extremely
handiwork and found
good.
Martha’s numerous relatives, it de-
veloped, were not only generous, bu
well-to-do. They were fond of ambi-
tious, orphaned Martha; and, being
kindly disposed generally, were inter-
ested in her employers. They were as
simple and as guileless as Martha her-
self. In Ridgeway it was customary
to give way to generous impulses.
That this was not the fashion in the
business circles of Bolton was an idea
that had not occurred to any of the
Pratts.
During the noon hour one day the
three men found themselves alone.
“Pendleton,” said Mr. Brice, eyeing
the golden russet pear on his desk,
“Yes,” agreed Mr. Pendleton, glanc-
ing at the twin pear on his own desk,
“she certainly is; but she doesn’t know
it—I'm convinced of that.”
“Perhaps not,” returned Brice,
doubtfully; “but the fact remains that
we've been bought. What are we
going to do about it? I—well—1
can’t eat a pear like that and then de-
liberately crush the donor.”
“It’s a tough proposition,” admitted
Pendleton.
«There's a first-rate girl at Hoop-
er’s,” suggested Tom Page, “that we
could have for the asking. They're
cutting down their office force. We
could let Miss Pratt do the drudgery
—there’s enough of it, and she’s cer-
tainly willing enough. That would
let her down by degrees, and give us
the efficient help that we lack at pres-
ent.”
Thus weakly temporizing, the part-
ners agreed to this plan.
The new girl, Miss Emmons, proved
all that Martha was not. Neat, slen-
der, efficient, self-contained, Miss Em-
mons was like a piece of well-oiled of-
fice furniture. Within forty-eight
hours of her arrival, Messrs. Brice
and Pendleton were all but oblivious
to the fact that Miss Emmons existed.
They did realize, however, that the
office work was going with unprece-
dented smoothness.
Martha realized it also. But Mar-
tha could not regard the new-comer
with indifference. To the deposed
clerk Miss Emmons was a revelation.
Her clothes, her reserved yet assur-
ed manner, most of all her systematic
neatness, profoundly impressed coun-
try-bred Martha. There was no doubt
about her unstinted admiration for
Miss Emmons. Martha began at once
to copy the older girl’s clothes, her
way of doing her hair, her noiseless
manner of moving about the office.
She even tried to imitate Miss Em-
mon’s neat figures and precise hand-
writing. By the end of a fortnight,
ill-taught Martha was improving by
leaps and bounds.
“By Jove!” said Tom Page. “I nev-
er supposed she had it in her, or I'd
have given her a lift or two myself.
“that woodenheaded girl is buying |t
”»
Perhaps, after all, there's the making
of a good business woman in her. Per- |
haps she was merely raw and green.
the idea appealed to them, the three
| that matters had gone far
They say that width between the eyes i
width’s there |
Brice & Pen-
| dleton’s is no kindergarten for green-
— — ra—— ap om —— — SO
turned to beaming Martha. In coid,
cutting, unmistakable words she told
her that she was a simple-minded
greenhorn; that office-girls were ex-
t | pected to work, not to conciliate their
employers with foolish gifts; that
when a business firm employed a girl,
it did not wish to be burdened with
obligations to all that girl's relatives.
She ridiculed the apples, the pears,
the pumpkin pies, and the brown lini-
ment. She made poor Martha see how
ludicrous a thing it was for old Grand-
ma Pratt to send her home-grown
bouquets to such men as Messrs. |
Brice and Pendleton and Tom Page.
There was no doubt that Martha
needed some such lesson; but, as the
well-aimed blows landed neatly, the
girl fairly staggered under the bat-
ery.
“I—I didn’t know,” she gasped.
Then, plunging blindly into her
wraps, Martha fled toward the eleva-
tor. }
“That was a hanged shame,” con- |
fided Tom Page to the contents of his
desk. “No man could have knifed her
; FARM NOTES.
—Fruit and shade trees may be set
any time if the soil is in proper con-
dition for the working. The condition
of the soil at the time trees are set
has more to do with the success or
failure of the trees than does the sea-
son of the setting.
good condition in the fall and the
trees can be obtained, it is better to
set them than to wait and run the risk
of not having the soil in good condi-
tion later on. The land should be in a
thorough state of cultivation and
should be moist enough to work well
when the trees are set. If they are in
good condition there is no need of
watering them.
Trees set in early winter may be a
little difficult to protect from rabbits,
but they are usually in better condi-
tion to start growth in the spring than
those that have been heeled in all win-
ter. There are not so many poor trees
sold in the fall as in the spring, and
for this reason fall setting usually
gives better results than spring set-
&
like that.” y ung
Thereafter, there were no more ap- |
ples, no more pears, no more pies.
When Tom Page came down unmis- |
takably with quinsy, Martha, know-
ing that her home contained the per-
fect remedy, remained outwardly as
impassive as Miss Emmons herself.
Then came the startling days of the
panic. Brice & Pendleton found
themselves suddenly and uncomfort-
ably involved. For a week even ob-
tuse Martha could see that Messrs.
Brice and Pendleton were exceedingly
troubled. She gathered vaguely that
an alarmingly large sum of money
was needed for some immediate con-
tingency; that the money was not
forthcoming, and that the world in
general was not to be apprised of the
pressing need. She learned too, that
both Mr. Brice and Mr. Pendleton had
tried, and failed, to secure a large
portion of the needed amount; and
that both men were surprised, shock-
ed, and bewildered at finding the firm
in this unlooked-for predicament.
But Martha was now sophisticated.
She knew now that she lived in a
world where it was not considered
proper to “rush in” with eager offers |
of assistance. It was not in Martha,
however, to permit even an ice-clad |
employer to sink with human aid in
sight. A month previously, the task
would have seemed simple. Now, en- |
lightened by Miss Emmons, Martha !
found it exceedingly hard to extend |
to the drowning men her straw, even |
though it proved, like her apples, |
pears, and pies, rather a substantial |
straw. |
Yet, gathering all her courage, she |
forced herself to cross the room under |
the fire of Miss Emmon’s hard, in- |
quiring eyes and to stand, inwardly
cringing, beside Mr. Brice’s desk.
“Mr. Brice,” said she, abject in her!
consciousness and crimscning and pal- |
ing by turns, “I know now that it isn’t
proper for me to offer to do anything |
more in this office than you tell me to |
do. I've learned that—and I'm awful- |
ly sorry I have learned it, because we
Pratts like to do things for others. IT
guess its part of our religion out in
Ridgeway; but I see now that its 3
—Few people realize how simple a
matter it is to propagate grape vines,
currants, gooseberries and most orna-
mental shrubs. If the work is prop-
erly done these plants may be readi-
ly propagated by means of cuttings
made late in autumn after the leaves
are off of the plants, but preferably
before cold weather comes on. Only
well-ripened, mature wood that has
grown during the preceding summer
should be selected for the purpose, all
soft or immature parts being discard-
ed. The cuttings themselves should
be made 6 to 10 inches long and the
base of cach should be cut squarely
just below a bud so the bud is retain-
ed at the lower end. They should be
tied up in bundles of convenient size,
say 100 to a bundle, their butts all one
way, well shaken down so as to stand
level on a flat table. They may then
be packed in fresh, moist sawdust and
be kept through the winter in a cellar
or pit.
Upon the approach of spring, as
early as the soil can be worked and
before the buds have begun to grow
on them, they should be planted out in
good garden soil. The rows should be
about four feet apart, to admit of
easy cultivation, and the cuttings
should be set very firmly in the soil,
so as to leave no air spaces about
them, and set deep enough so only the
uppermost bud is above the ground.
They should then be given clean culti-
vation and hoed to keep down all
weeds during the summer, when usu-
ally an excellent growth of plants will
be secured.
Currants, gooseberries, the Marian-
na and Golden Beauty plums, some
varieties of quinces, the barberry,
spirea, mock orange, privet, most va-
rieties of shrubs, willows, poplars and
some other varieties of forest trees
root readily from cuttings handled in
this manner.
There is great variety in the trees
now being set out or advoated for for-
est planting.
Some are really only fit for treeless
regions, where wood of some kind is
wanted quickly and not for lumbering
| horns; we couldn’t be expected _ to | that way in towns. But—but ell, | purposes, such as forest planters have
| teach her. But she’s certainly pick- | would eighteen thousand dollars be of I view. Of these—firewood trees
| ing up.” | any use to you? they may be called—the fast growers
| There was no doubt about it, Mar- |
tha was “picking up.” But in one ve- |
| spect she was still unchanged. Rus-|
' set pears from Uncle Rowan, Baldwin
| apples from Uncle Ben, Aunt Julia's!
| famous pumpkin pies, and bouquets
| from Grandma Pratt’s luxuriant house
| plants, continued to invade the office.
Whenever one of these incongruous
gifts arrived, Miss Emmons wore 2a
superior smile, which Tom Page easi-
ly interpreted, but to which Martha
remained sublimely impervious. The
thanks of Miss Emmons for her share
in these gifts were delicately ironical. |
' This also missed fire with honest Mar-
i tha. :
One morning the usually prompt
| Mr. Brice arrived late. It was evident
| to the least observant that he was suf
i fering with a stiff neck. Mr. Brice at
| his best was an unapproachable per-
| son; Mr. Brice in pain was formidable
| even
to his most courageous relative. |
| Mr. Pendleton wisely postponed cer- |
| tain business matters that he had in- |
tended to mention; Tom Page quietly |
effaced himself; Miss Emmons as]
quietly became a piece of insenate of- |
fice furniture; but Martha, nothing
| daunted, exclaimed sympathetically: |
| “Mercy, Mr. Brice, you must be;
feeling just awful! I had one of those |
necks once, and it hurt like all pos- |
sessed. I’m real sorry for you.”
Mr. Brice glowered, Mr. Pendleton
gulped, Tom Page controlled his |
treacherous lips. Miss Emmons shot |
a satirical yet guarded glance in Tom |
Page’s direction.
“Don’t worry,” assured oblivious |
Martha; “it won’t last long.” |
| That noon Martha was late; she was |
likewise flushed and disheveled from |
unusual exertion. She placed a tall, |
brown bottle on Mr. Brice’s highly |
polished desk.
“Sorry I'm late,” said she, easily; |
“hut I had to go way out to Cousin |
Sarah Calliper’s for this mixture. Is
the best stuff ever made for stiff |
necks. Take off your collar and rub |
this liniment on the cords. Don’t be |
afraid; Cousin Sarah made it herself.”
Even on the hottest day of mid-
summer Mr. Brice had never commit-
ted the impropriety of removing his
coat or loosening his collar in that au-
stere office, but now, under Martha's
compelling eye, the collar came off,
the evil-smelling liniment went on.
“Now,” said Martha, producing a
compact roll of coarse flannel, “wrap
this about your neck.”
Mr. Brice, still glowering, obeyed.
There was simply nothing else to do
with those kindly insistent brown eyes
compelling him. Mr. Pendleton con-
siderately removed himself from the
premises; Tom Page discovered in-
stant and pressing business within the
fireproof vault.
At intervals during the afternoon
Martha insisted on fresh applications.
At closing time, Mr. Brice, whose
bravest relative would have hesitated,
in a matter of life or death, to ask
him to carry a parcel, walked meekly
out of the office with a big, brown bot-
tle distending the pocket of his fault-
less coat. A muffler, impulsively bor-
rowed by Martha from Tom Page,
mercifully concealed the red flannel.
And then Miss Emmons,
who felt |
enough,
“Use!” gasped Mr. Brice, clutching
the arms of his chair. “Use! Why,
girl, if I could have that sum before
noon tomorrow it would just about
save Brice & Pendleton!”
“Well,” returned Martha, now as
calm as if she were lightly proffering
eighteen cents, “Uncle Ben, Uncle
‘Rowan, and Uncle Henry—he’s Aunt
! Julia’s husband—could lend you that
much money and hold their tongues
| about it. If you’ll ride out to Ridger
way with me now, you can fix it up |
| with the men folks.” i
Leaving Mr. Pendleton, Tom Page, |
‘and Miss Emmons gasping like three
freshly landed trout, the senior part- |
ner and Martha departed hurriedly to |
catch the suburban car.
“That girl,” said Mr. Pendleton, re- |
covering finally, “is as sound an
wholesome as one of Aunt Julia's
pies.”
“And her kind,” agreed Tom Page,
“is as rare as that apple-tree of Un-
cle Ben's.”
“Fortunately,” breathed Miss Em-
mons.
“No,” shouted Mr. Pendleton and
Tom in chorus.—By Carroll Watson
Rankin, in The Century Magazine.
Skin-Tight “Snappy” Clothes for Men
Ousted from Favor.
New York.—New designs for men’s
spring and summer attire which were
displayed at the annual fashion show
and dinner of the New York Custom
Cutters’ club, virtually eliminate the
tight-fitting suit of war days. Instead,
a “natural-fitting coat, not so narrow
and just a fraction longer,” has been
decreed by fashion arbiters as its sub-
stitute. “The “toothpick” lapel also
has been discarded, and in its place a
more modest half peak has been de-
cided upon.
Experts agree that the American
man prefers three buttons on his coat
instead of two, and he will have them.
as a solace for any disappointment
| that might be felt through the loss of
the “clinging styles,” the rulers of
male attire will retain the narrow
| sleeves. The correctly dressed man
| also will have a 10-inch opening in the
‘back of his coat. Slash pockets have
| gone, but those in the waistcoat and
| coat will have a slight curve.
. Trousers will have little change.
| The average man, a statement said,
| “likes his covering for the lower limbs
| narrow and with cuffs, and that is the
| way he will get it.”
| Only slight changes have been made
lin evening dress and in the cutaway
| for the promenader. The “very mod-
ish” will get “a snappy sport sack
| suit” with wide belt and two plaits,
| which the designers have stamped as
| “correctly blase.” It is further de-
| creed there will be no orgy of color
| schemes.
The light spring overcoat will be
| “shapely in front, with a full box
| back and no vent.” It will have the
| popular circular patch pockets. Light
| colors will predominate.
|
Differ There,
| vators of trees.
are box elder, poplars and silver ma-
ple; but there are some of those with
more valuable qualities that grow
fast, notably the larch and the tulip
poplar.
Those most heard of are the catal-
pa, black locust and the white pine.
These three have been planted in large
numbers, and will be more sought for
in future as the demand for timber
grows. Ash makes a good tree and
has valuable wood; ® so has the mul-
berry and the osage orange, but these
last two are often set out as nurse
trees sometimes grown with those of
greater value to cause the latter to
grow tall, and again, set along the
boundaries of a plantation as a wind-
break.
Those who desire to raise their own
4 plants from seed will find the best
' way to be the forming of seed beds
about three to four feet wide and of
any convenient length. Beds of this
width permit of being weeded and
tended from both sides without tread-
ing on them. Any good soil answers
for seeds, but the covering soil is best
of a light, sandy nature, permitting
the seedlings to push through it when
they start. And, by the way, cover all
seeds to about twice their own depth,
as a rule. This darkness is added to
by covering the beds with forest
leaves, straw or like material, kept in
place by sticks or branches of trees.
But nurserymen and those who sow
large quantities make skeleton frames
of ath nailed an inch apart, and as the
seedlings grow the leaves are remov-
ed, but the frames are retained until
near midsummer, being raised higher
and higher, by blocks under them, as
the seedlings gain in height. It re-
quires about two years’ growth for all
seedlings before they are of suitable
size to set out permanently.
—The practice is to plant and culti-
vate seedling trees, just as a field of
corn is. The trees are set about six
feet by six feet, looking to the cutting
out of every other one when the pros-
perity of the rest demands it, which
will be before they are full grown. Cul-
tivation is to continue until the trees
have made growth sufficient to shade
the ground and keep down all weeds.
There is a certain treatment required
to keep seeds in good condition for
sowing. All cannot be treated alike
and remain good. The following list
are all to be sown in the spring:
Larch, mulberry, osage orange, black
locust, catalpa and all the spruces and
pines; and they can be kept dry in a
cool place until the time for sowing
comes. But before sowing the locust
give it a good soaking in hot water
for two or three days, then sowing
them immediately. All the other
seeds named may be sown either in
autumn or spring, but if kept over
New Year's or before and mixed in
screened sand or soil slightly damp,
and kept under cover in some cool
place until spring, and then sown. In
this way, in damp material, they grow
well sown in spring. There are two
kinds of catalpa well known to culti-
estry purposes is Catalpa Speciasa,
because it is hardy in the colder States
Time may be money but it hangs
much more heavily upon our hands.
and grows more tree-like than the
other, Catalpa Bignonioides. The lat-
If the land is in:
Fran,
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
DAILY THOUGHT.
We are all nobly born; fortunate those
| who know it; blessed those who remem-
No Chestnut Tree in State in Five | ber~Robert Louis Stevenson,
Years. | gySiver Wedding Anniversary.—
The ori chestrits. § «| When married folks arrive at the age
price of chestnuts in the city | of fifty which is about the time that
ter is wild about Philadelphia, and is |
much valued there as an ornamental |
tree because of its great heads of |
white flowers in June. i
markets this season, which shows an
increase over that of last year, can
hardly be viewed as one of the side is-
sues of the high cost of living. It is
rather an indication of the fact that
the chestnuts are rapidly becoming |
extinct in Lancaster county and all
over the State.
Pennsylvania grown chestnuts are |
fewer this year than they ever were
before. The chestnut blight is spread-
ing over Pennsylvania at an alarming
rate, according to information given
out at the State Department of Fer-
estry.
New Jersey, New York and other New
England States where chestnut trees
formerly thrived.
In Pennsylvania the blight
and is making rapid progress toward
the northwestern territory. Accord-
ing to the present outlook,
course of five years there will not be
a live chestnut tree remaining in this
State. In ten years perhaps there will
be none in the whole eastern half of
the United States.
It has practically devastated |
is
strongest in the southeastern section
in the
The chestnut blight works fast and
there is no known remedy for it. It is
beginning to travel into the Virgin-
ias, Kentucky, and probably by this
time has reached North Carolina.
This belt, perhaps one of the richest
in the world in chestnut timber, will
in the course of a few years have no
chestnut trees at all. The loss will
be almost incalculable. It is estimat-
ed that the loss of the chestnut trees
that are in Pennsylvania at the pres-
ent time will amount to more than
$60,000,000.
The loss of the nuts is a very trivial
consideration: as compared with the
loss of the timber.
people of a non-scientific turn of
mind who have advanced the ar-
gument
the trees to bear more fruit. It is
true that it is one of the characteris-
tics of the blight that for about two
years after a tree has been attacked
it will bear an abundance of nuts.
After that it dies.
Alaska Holds Paper Supply.
Alaska can supply the country with
paper. The pulp-wood forests there,
under proper management and con-
trol, could produce a continuous yield
of 2,000,000 cords of pulp wood per
annum. This is one-third of the total
present consumption of pulp wood
and products manufactured from it in
the United States. Alaska can solve
the paper shortage, if capital can be
found to develop its forests. This is
the estimate of officials of the Forest
Service.
The best pulp-wood expert in the
Forest Service has spent two seasons
in Alaska examining and reporting
upon opportunities for pulp-wood en-
terprises; a number of istreams have
been examined and stream gauging
conducted to determine the available
water powers.
Various tentative applications for
developing pulp-wood enterprises in
Alaska have been made since 1910,
but all have fallen through.
The Forest Service is now prepared
to offer capitalists willing to develop
pulp-wood forests in Alaska sufficient
quantities of pulp wood under a first
contract to supply a new enterprise
for not less than 220 years, and to
insure a further supply for such a
plant by reserving additional large
quantities of pulp wood (properly lo-
cated for the plan in question) from
all other use or disposition until the
initial contract should be cut out.
Timber operators under Forest
Service contracts pay for their tim-
ber only in very small quantities,
month by month, as it is cut, enor-
mous value of the timber covered by
the contract is required. The pur-
chaser has no interest to pay on in-
vestments in standing timber, no tax-
es, no protection charges, no carrying
charges of any sort on 20 or 25 years’
supply of raw material, whose avail-
hiliy to his plant is absolutely as-
sured.
State College Plans Young Farmer's
Week.
A “Young Farmer’s week,” held es-
pecially for the boys and girls of
There are some!
g that the chestnut blight
is a good thing inasmuch as it causes
|
| the silver wedding anniversary occurs,
‘an entertainment for them and their
| friends must be more or less dignified.
| That is why the following wedding
{ anniversary celebration which I am
| going to tell you about was such a
"huge success. Invitations were issued
| written in a fine regular hand like the
{ usual formal wedding invitaticns, only
' they were worded like this:
Mr. and Mrs. John Doe Smith
request the pleasure of your company
on Friday evening, January ninth,
to celebrate their twenty-fifth
wedding anniversary.
21 Park avenue.
In the invitations of those of the
original wedding party and the near-
est older members of the family, a
small card was enclosed which read,
Dinner at 6:30, so that twelve sat
down to the table, which was decorat-
ed very prettily and appropriately. In
the center of the cloth on a center-
piece of the real yellowed lace hand-
kerchief which the hostess had carried
as a bride was a real wedding bouquet
of bride roses. This had been made
by the florist in shower form with sil-
ver ribbons to each place, and a single
rose tied on the ends of the stream-
ers. The bouquet rested in a silver
basket vase, the gift of the three
grandchildren. For place cards, the
single daughter, who really planned
the affair, had cut little wedding bells
from silver cardboard. The tongue
she cut out separately and pasted to
the back of the bell, so that it acted
like a clip to hold the bell on the side
of the tumbler. A small streamer of
white ribbon held each guest’s name
written in silver ink.
The hostess tried to make the din-
ner follow out as nearly as possible
| the elaborate wedding breakfast of
twenty-five years ago—not so hard
when you think how much simpler we
dine now-adays. So there was a soup
first course instead of the usual oys-
ters or fruit cocktail, followed by lob-
ster cutlets, pickles instead of olives,
celery, roast chicken, three vegetables,
ice cream and pound cake. All the
"old china and silver were used, even
where it did not match, and the old
| dinner cloth and napkins, the best set
which she had had as a bride; lovely
silken damask adorned the table.
When the guests unfolded their nap-
kins they found to their surprise a
little favor in each, for the women of
the party tiny needle-books in the
shape of bells, covered with the silk
from the hostess’s wedding dress, and
for the men penwipers, also bell-shap-
ed, from the black broadcloth coat-
tails of the host’s wedding suit. These
favors had not destroyed the original
costume, as it only meant snipping
off the side of the vest and a silk ruf-
fle from the dress, so that the original
costumes were displayed for the
amusement of the party.
Later in the evening the other
guests began to arrive. They were of
all ages and represented most of the
friends of the married couple. As
there was such a crowd, the only way
to amuse them was in the way of a
musicale, so a younger daughter and
son-in-law donned the old costumes
and gave a recital of old songs, in-
cluding everything from ‘Little An-
nie Rooney” to “After the Ball is
Over.” Then some one suggested a
grand march, so headed by the hostess
and her husband, the company form-
ed in twos and to a wedding march
played at the piano, went up and down
the rooms and through the halls, end-
ing up by going under the arch form-
ed by the hands of the leaders.
Punch was served later on and a
real wedding cake brought out. It
was a rich fruit cake, iced in white,
with all the familiar roses and trim-
mings, but it was also a birthday
cake, with twenty-five small silver ta-
pers, which the host and hostess had
to blow out to count their decades of
happiness together. It took three
blows, so thirty more years of wed-
ded bliss was supposed to be their lot.
It was after this that they were
showered with silver gifts, which their
friends had sent or brought and which
the daughter had kept a secret.
The tendency toward back drapery
on the bustle order already reported
| as seen in evening gowns has now ex-
tended to frocks for afternoon and
Pennsylvania who are engaged in ag-
riculture club work and stock judging
activities will precede the big summer
gathering for farmers at State Col-
lege in June. It is planned to have
them reach the College on Saturday, .
June 19, and spend three days prior ' revival, just consult some authorita-
street wear.
A fashion revival of unique inter-
est are the frocks in combination of
taffeta and gingham and crepe de
chine and gingham. If you doubt that
this strange fabric combination is a
to the opening of the regular Far- | tive history of modes worn by early
mer’s week on June 22nd, in a pro- | American women.
gram of livestock activities and rec- |
reation. | Large hats of black patent leather
This is a new feature of the club trimmed with embroidery done in
work in Pennsylvania, and several wool, chenille or raffia in brilliant col-
hundred club workers are expected to | oring are more and more in evidence.
attend the sessions. The time will be | L
spent on the college farms, with mem- | Large shellacked flowers in nacre
bers of the college extension staff. i colorings are used as trimming on
A. J. Brundage, leader of the boy's hats of milan straw recently import-
winter all must be taken in hand at’
The best one for for-'
and girl's clubs in Connecticut, who
has had experience with such pro-
grams in his own State, will assist’
throughout the week in the work that
will be mapped out. This includes
stock judging contests on Wednesday |
and Thursday, for which a handsome |
silver trophy is awarded to the win-
ning county each year by the Pennsyl-
vania State Banker’s association.
This trophy is now held by Susque-
hanna county, and is in competition
for five years, becoming the perma-
nent property of the county winning |
it the largest number of times in that
period. Other valuable prizes and
trophies will be offered in stock judg- |
ing contests by stock breeders organ-
izations.
The popularity of the boy’s and
girl’s club i :
grown by leaps and bounds during the
past few years, and new fields are
constantly being developed. The club
activities are conducted through the
various county farm bureaus, and 1i-
Plans are already on foot for bring-
ing teams from Franklin, Monroe, Ly-
coming, and Erie counties, and others
will make preparations in the course
of a few weeks.
ed from Paris.
Paris is reported as sponsoring
frocks of linen, in both white and col-
ors.
The spring models show a decided
tendency toward low waist lines;
sleeves of afternoon dresses cover the
clbow, some of wrist length; skirts
are wider, belts are narrower and
many are of ribbon, and suits show
fancy waistcoat fronts.
There is a decided note of the
Egyptian as to line, color and trim-
ming in many of the most exclusive
models of the season.
Embroidery borders, bands and
"edges of Egyptian motif include the
work in Pennsylvania has:
valry is very keen in many sections.
scarab, the acanthus leaf, the sacred
beast and idols. The distinctive
Egyptian blue predominates in the
color range, and models affect the
straight line skirt and the kimona and
surplice bodice with short sleeves.
Straight coats with high military
collars and shoulder capes are of wool,
canvas and duvetyn and are princi-
pally in such colors as champagne and
gray.
ey