= fie All
1 ~~
Bellefonte, Pa., July 2, 1920.
EACH IN HIS OWN WAY.
Winifred Meek Morris
Pach in his own way—climbs the hill,
Patterned alike though we be,
Pach in his own way—finds his pace
Close to the truth he sees.
Tach has the journey of life to make
To give a loving thought,
Of faith and hope—peace and trust,
For the love of the Truth we're taught.
OPPORTUNITY.
Winifred Meek Morris.
And each, his day he lives in vain
‘Who helps not some—a step to gain
For Love.
And though we heed not now the call,
It comes, to blaze the way to all—
For truth.
And through each effort made to forge
ahead,
‘We reach the path—as Christ has said—
For Life.
IN THE MIDST OF LIFE.
A West Point July 4th Story.
The cadets at the United States
Military academy at West Point are
exercised at stated periods in what is
known as sea coast battery drill. This
is particularly the case during the
summer time, when the corps is in
camp. Routine varies but very little
there from year to year, and the daily
drills and practices were much the
same before the Civil war as they are
now.
A year or two previous to the
breaking out of that stupendous con-
test the cadets of the second class had
determined on the firing of a nation-
al salute from the guns of the bat-
tery at or before daylight on the en-
suing Fourth of July, then close at
hand. They had in some way per-
suaded their own senior cadet officer
while on camp provost duty to wink at
their little irregularity in view of the
patriotic impulse prompting them.
Permission was also secured to ad-
vance the drill hour of the second
class under a plea that many would
be absent on holiday leave. The sec-
ond class advanced the drill hour still
more by appearing in fatigue dress
at 4 a. m. in the old seacoast battery.
Aside from the five gun detach-
ments, a number of cadets were on
the terrace behind the large smooth-
bore cannon which then composed the
ancient fortification facing Crow Nest
mountain, nearly half a mile away.
Discipline is always rigid at the
Point. Red wreaths of mist high in
the east hinted that the plans laid out
for themselves by the second class
were likely to be interfered with.
Classmates were about to separate.
Sectional feeling ran high.
Jim Hamline, of Maine, seemed to
express the general sentiment when
he urged: “Let us cut out the single
fire, boys. Time is precious. We are
in for extra discipline or suspension
for this, anyhow. What we want to
do is to make a big noise, quick!”
It was then determined to fire the
old guns by platoon—by twos and
threes at a time—then reload and do
it again by battery until the blank
ammunition was exhausted or the
whole class ordered under arrest.
Youthlike, they relied on the patriot-
ic nature of what they were doing to
pull the class through, whatever cen-
sure might be imposed upon them as
individuals. Owing to the great dan-
ger of firing these big guns, it was
customary for each gun detachment—
excepting No. 4, who fired the piece—
to jump back on the terrace behind
the battery. When ball was used they
could note from that elevation the ef-
fect of their target practice 2,000 or
more feet away.
In the semi-darkness and in the hur-
ry of getting the guns ready no order
to retire on the discharge of the guns
was given. In calling off, No. 1 at the
big eleven inch smoothbore was
George Pelham, of Georgia. The
gunner, No. 4, was a tall Kentucky
boy named Bayard, or “the Goat,” as
he was often called on account of his
solemn visage.
line.
Everything being ready, the cadet
officer from the terrace gave the word
to fire by platoon, then reload and fire
by battery as fast as possible. The
double and treble roar was tremen-
dous, as was also the excitement, for
some one had called out that lights
were flashing back of the parade
grounds. Doubtless the camp provost
marshal was hurrying with his depu-
ties to sce what was going forward.
“Reload! Fire by battery!” Sharp
and quick the command was given and
repeated along the terrace. The big
eleven inch smooth bore was midway
of the line. Smoke already hung thick
among the guns. But the boys work-
ed with a will, realizing that their
time was short.
“Battery ready?” sang out the ca-
det officer from his perch. “Ready
all!” Each No. 4 seized his lanyard
firmly and, facing toward the left and
rear, waited for the final word that
would discharge every piece simulta-
neously. The others, expecting to be
more or less defended by the shock,
took positions accordingly.
“Fire!” came the last command.
A sheet of flame and a tremendous
concussion shook the earth. A smoth-
er of smoke so filled the battery that
it was impossible to see anything.
But the work did not cease.
“Sponge out!” came the next order
immediately, and all the No. 1 and
No. 2 men leaped on the parapet to
execute it, for the cannon were old
style muzzle loaders. But hardly had
Pelham and Hamline reached their
posts when those on the terrace saw
Bayard, the No. 4 of the big eleven
inch Columbia, do a most unaccount-
able thing. All this loomed dimly
through the enveloping smoke that
fogged the atmosphere.
Instead of remaining at thie breech,
his proper place, the Goat sprang
after Hamline and Pelham—right in
front of the yawning eleven inch muz-
zle. “Down! For your lives!” he
yelled, seizing Nos. 1 and 2 and liter-
ally hurling them down the outside
slope of the parapet. At the same in-
No. 2 was Jim Ham-
| stant Bayard threw himself flat under
| the big gun.
| and roar of its discharge.
| Jim Hamline, the last to revive,
i saw Pelham sitting up in the ditch at
| the foot of the parapet looking about !
him in a Jaze. “Did—did something
| explode?” he asked. “What's wrong,
! anyhow 7” 4
| “The big eleven inch hung fire,” ex-
| plained Duganne, the chief of that |
saved your lives, :
“Bayard
He was the only one who saw
section.
boys.
ham would Lave had your heads
blown off.”
Fortunately Nos. 1 and 2 were not
hurt much. Aside from a stunned
feeling and a little giddiness they
were all right. But they fully realiz-
ed what had happened and what the
Goat’s promptness had saved them
from. The old style cannon had real-
ly hung fire, as it is termed when the
discharge is momentarily delayed. On
account of the noise and the smoke
from the guns on either side no one
| but Bayard had noticed this. In obey-
ing the swift following order from the
cadet officer on the terrace Nos. 1 and
2 had already sprung on the breast-
works. The Goat had time only to
hurl them down the embankment and
throw himself flat on the earth before
the explosion came.
“Is—is Bayard hurt?” asked Jim
Hamline as he crawled up the para-
pet.
“He's blackened up some and a lit-
tle burned. But he dodged that blank
discharge with only a fraction of a
second to spare.”
When the two rescued cadets reach-
ed the inside of the battery Goat Bay-
ard was lying on the grassy slope of
the terrace. His shell jacket was off,
his face and arms pitted black with
powder and his hair slightly singed.
The cadet officer who had connived at
the entire patriotic irregularity was
bending over the postrate boy with a
can of water in his hand.
“Pelham,” said Hamline, deeply
moved, “we owe our lives to Bayard.
Let’s shake hands with the Goat.”
And so they did. They also strove
to take upon themselves whatever
might be Bayard’s share of the blame
attaching to this unusual Fourth of
July salute by explaining to the au-
thorities that the only mischief de-
signed was in honor of the country
and the flag. But discipline is rigid
at the Point.
Among various reports of miscon-
duct of the class on that overjoyful
morning the adjutant’s “skin book”
bore only the following brief note
concerning the Goat: “Bayard, gun-
ner at extra seacoast battery salute,
July 4, leaving post without orders,
at 4:10—4:15 a. m.”
The old commander paused over
this, among the column of demerits
he was marking up a week later
against the class, and examined and
re-examined several supplementary
documents referring thereto. “Disci-
pline or no discipline,” he concluded,
“I think I will cross this off.” He did
so and afterward made some more
notes himself in a little book kept for
a certain purpose.
Bayard himself never spoke of the
matter that so nearly cost him his
life and-the:lives of two others, - and
his friends understood his silence and
did not forget. After vacation the fol-
lowing autumn he was made a cadet
captain over the heads of several who
ranked him, Hamline and Duganne
among them. When Bayard’s name
was read out at morning parade Jim
Hamline once more shattered disci-
pline by calling out, ‘“’Rah for Goat
Bayard and the Fourth of July!”"—
By J. H. Rockwell.
CARE OF TIRE VALVES.
One part of an automobile tire
which comes in for too little attention
is the valve. The principal attention
a motorist need give the valve is sim-
ply to see that all dust and dirt are
excluded from its interior.
There is a rather common belief
that the valve cap is unessential. This
idea is erroneous, for when a cap is
not used there is a strong likelihood
that dirt will work into the valve and
produce a leak. In addition, if the cap
is screwed on well, a break-down of
the valve insides need cause the driver
no inconvenience, as the cap will pre-
vent the tire from deflating. Valve
caps on bicycles, motorcycles, auto-
mobiles and trucks are all of one size,
so if a cap is lost, it may easily be re-
placed.
When removing the plunger from
the valve do not drop it into the dirt,
for dust may lodge on the red rubber
washer. If dirt has worked its way
into the plunger, throw away the
plunger and put in a new one.
Sometimes there may be a leak
around the base of the valve stem. In
that case the hexagonal nut should be
tightened. This hexagonal nut should
always be screwed down tight against
the washer, atthe base, as this makes
a satisfactory seal around the opening
through which the valve stem enters
the tube. The rim nut must always be
screwed tight, so that it closes the
hole in the rim. If this is not done,
dirt will work in between the tire and
tube and cause the tube to wear out.
This advice is given by the United
States Tire company, but as all the
large tire companies use the same
make of valve, the advice may be fol-
lowed by practically all tire users.
Will Prevent Much Sickness.
These enervating days are fraught with
danger to people whose systems are poorly
sustained. This leads the makers of
Hood’s Sarsaparilla to say, in thé inter-
est of the less robust, that the .full effect
of this good old family medicine justi-
fies calling it, not only a blood-purifier
but also a tonic. It is sustaining. It gives
strength, also digestion, promotes re-
freshing sleep, and will prevent much
sickness at this time of year.
Hood’s Pills, which are gentle and
thorough, may be taken with it, in cases
where there is need of a cathartic or laxa-
tive. 65-27
E——— EY
The Sting of Poverty.
Mrs. Lerret—It’s so mortifying to
be poor. F Qlggalue in
Bessie has to wear a home drug store
complexion while every other girl in
her set sports the imported: kind.—
Judge. a
Then came the crash |
it when the order was given to sponge |
out. A second later and you and Pel- |
Mrs, Yadilloh—<I should sao: My
THE GREAT JULY 4 AT GETTYS-
BURG.
Pennsylvania Town Still Remembers
; 1863.
With each recurring anniversary of
the nation’s birth, memories of the
‘ older inhabitants of Gettysburg turn
. back to that fearful day in 1863 that
will always be recalled, probably, as
the most terrible Fourth of July in its
history.
Of the great battle of Gettysburg,
ranking with the most desperate con-
| flicts in the history of man, historians
| have told us much. They have virtu-
| ally covered every square inch of the
bloody field. Yet of the quaking, fear
| stricken town itself during the battle
{ comparatively little has been read by
| the world at large; few chronicles
i
| have been written of the doings of the
! people.
| And of that awesome Fourth of Ju-
ily! Everywhere else through the na-
| tion, where the news that Lee's ad-
| vance had been checked had reached,
| there were scenes of wild rejoicing.
[But Gettysburg, though glad of the
| victory, was sick at heart because of
| the ghastly, gory spectacle of the
| battle’s aftermath that was before
i the eyes of every man, woman and
child in town.
| When the sun rose on the morning
i of July 4, the day after Pickett had
| made his famous charge, its shafts
. emblazoned the roofs of Gettysburg.
But from the streets came no sounds
of rejoicing, no cheers, either for vic-
tory or for the day of the nation’s
birth. All was silent, except when one
| walked abroad he could hear groan-
| ing, and he knew he was in a town of
suffering and sorrow. In many of the
houses wounded men were quartered
and cared for, and the townspeople
nursed them, Union men and Confed-
erates both sharing in the adminis-
trations.
Upon the fields where the grim bat-
tle had been fought the sun blazed in-
to the staring eyes of hundreds—
eyes that gazed vacantly at the morn-
ing with the blankness of death. Hun-
dreds of others opened their eyes for
the last time to see the sun of day.
Hundreds lay moaning, their limbs
torn, weltering in blood, their heart-
rending groans making the morning
seem gray despite the sun. Despite
the heroic efforts of the surgeons and
their assistants it was impossible to
reach all of the wounded in time.
The battle was over. Both armies,
declared Professor Aaron Sheely, who
saw the battlefield, were engaged in
patching up damage and doing their
best to relieve the wounded. Men lay
on the fields dying, enduring incon-
ceivable suffering. As yet no ar-
rangements had been made for their
care, though as many as could be tak-
en away were carried into the town of
Gettysburg.
“That Fourth,” said Mrs. E. S. My-
ers-Stewart, who was one of the nurs-
es, “was spent by the people nursing
the injured. Many went out to the
field of battle and helped to bring the
wounded in. Many even doubted the
success of the Union forces. Some
claimed the battle had been drawn.
This was, of course, depressing. But
when we learned that the Confeder-
ates had left their wounded and dying
on the field in their retreat I said the
battle was ours. No victorious army
| ever left its men to die unaided and
uncomforted.
. “There was no joyful celebration
that day,” added Mrs. Stewart. “We
all felt like weeping. Such sights as
surrounded us beggar description.
Sickness and death and suffering were
seen on every side. Most of the peo-
ple spent the day taking care of those
that were thrown upon their mercy.”
There was on this ourth a feeling
of relief among the people of the
town. The danger of the town’s be-
ing razed had passed. General Lee
made preparations during the day to
leave and that night withdrew toward
the south. In the town efforts were
made to gather provisions. There
were loud calls from the survivors.
Many of the uninjured soldiers were
in need of food. Into the surrounding
country scores of Gettysburg’s citi-
zens went begging for provisions.
Many of the women went from door
to door filling baskets, which were
sent out to the soldiers on the field.
Reorganization in Forestry Dept.
To expedite the administrative af-
fairs of the Pennsylvania Department
of Forestry, a reorganization of the
various bureaus and offices has been
announced by Gifford Pinchot, the
State’s chief forester. He approved
the changes upoh the recommendation
of Major Robert Y. Stuart, the depu-
ty commissioner of forestry, who is
regarded as an authority on forest or-
ganization by the U. S. forest service.
No alterations in the office personnel
are contemplated, the reorganization
having been made simply to assign
more definitely the business of the de-
partment.
Under the new plan, the Depart-
ment of Forestry will comprise four
bureaus and four offices. There were
five bureaus and no offices, previously.
The bureau of information is now the
office of information.
The four bureaus are fire protec-
tion, operation, silviculture and lands.
The offices are maintenances, informa-
tion, investigation and technical edu-
cation.
ee esl eee.
Swimming a Line.
“] was just as sober when they
pinched me as I am now,” insisted
Arthur Bellinger when arraigned be-
fore Magistrate Levine in the night
court, charged with beating the prohi-
bition law to a standstill.
“Are you sober now?” asked the
court.
“Absolutely,” insisted Arthur.
“Well, we'll see,” replied the court
as he ordered a chalk line drawn
across the floor. Then he told the
prisoner to walk it.
Arthur made good headway for
some distance—but the chalk line sud-
denly seemed to rise up and strike
him across the forehead.
“] said walk it, not swim it,” ex-
claimed the court, as he ordered Ar-
thur to spend the night in the dun-
geon.—New York Globe.
ISLL TR you see it ‘in the “Watch
man” you will know it’s true.
Permanent Pasture Needs Attention FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
Now.
Now is the time to look over the
permanent pastures and see how they
are standing the grazing and hot
weather. It is too late to fertilize or
reseed but it is not too late to remove
the stock from the pasture which may
be grazed too close or where the vege-
tation may be dying out. Give the
grasses a chance to recover if neces-
sary.
It is too early to pasture newly cut
meadows, but an early soiling crop of
oats and field peas or some summer |
ensilage, would make a good substi-
tute.
If parts of the pasture do die out,
remember next spring, as the frost is
coming out of the ground, to reseed
lightly with a mixture of equal parts
of timothy, Kentucky blue grass, Can-
ada blue grass, red top English rye
grass, and white clover. Later a very
light application of lime and a com-
plete fertilizer may pay in the long
run, say specialists at The Pennsyl- |
vania State College.
In some parts of the State a bright
orange color flowered weed is taking
possession of the pastures. This weed
is commonly known as Orange Hawk
weed or Devil’s Paint Brush. The
rosettes of fuzzy leaves spread like a
mat over the ground and single stems |
with a cluster of reddish orange flow-
ers grow up from each rosette. It'
spreads persistently by means of
seeds like dandelion and underground |
stems like quack grass.
If this weed is found in abundance
one might as well start at once to
plow it under and sow a grain or in- |
tertilled crop. It is readily controlled |
in this way. Buckwheat is a crop well
suited to most pasture lands.
Artificial Teeth Luxuries Rules
France and Bans Them as Imports.
The prohibition of importation of
artificial teeth into France upon the
ground that they are “luxuries,” and
may therefore be excluded by law,
will, says the National City Bank of
New York, effect a growing industry
and export trade of the United States
representing several million dollars.
The United States is, and has been
for several years, the world’s largest
manufacturer of artificial teeth, and
has turned out probably $50,000,000
worth in the last decade. In 1914 the
factory value of manufactured teeth
was over $4,000,000, and is now prob-
ably running at double that sum. They
go to every grand division of the
world, and are scattered broadcast
from Russia to Oceanica, and from
Japan to South America.
Curiously, France, which has now
excluded artificial teeth in its list of
prohibited luxuries, is not, and never
has been, a considerable producer of
this class of manufacture, having de-
pended chiefly upon the United States,
Great Britain and Germany for its re-
quirement.
In the year prior to the war we sent
to France alone $28,000 worth, while |
to England, herself a tooth manufac-
turer, we sent $175,000; Germany,
$25,000 worth, and our neighbors in
Canada, $55,000. Just now exports of
th are running at the rate of over
£50,000 a month, or at a rate of more
than $600,000 a year.
Manufacture of false teeth in the
United States occurs chiefly in the
States of New York and Pennsylva-
nia.
rr seer lpr.
Employment for Industrial Victims.
The bureau of rehabilitation, estab-
! lished in the Pennsylvania Depart-
ment of Labor and Industry by the
last Legislature for the purpose of re-
turning to remunerative employment
residents of the Commonwealth whose
capacity to earn a living has been de-
stroyed through industrial accident,
has, up to June 1st, offered its serv-
ices to 397 industrial accident vie-
tims. Commissioner Clifford B. Con-
nelley, head of the department, has
received a report on the bureau’s ac-
tivities from S. S. Riddle, the bureau
chief.
Of the persons injured, 240 have
registered with the bureau, including
233 males and 7 females. The major-
ity of accident victims registered with
the bureau are over thirty-one years
of age.
One hundred and forty-seven of the
accident victims, registered with the
bureau, were native-born Pennsylva-
nians, 22 were born in the United
States outside of Pennsylvania, and
71 were born in foreign countries.
Twenty-two of the total number of
handicapped persons cannot read or
write English. One hundred and
twenty-two of the cases suffered their
disibilities before the Act was passed
and 118 have been injured since the
passage of the Act.
Sixty-one persons have been assist-
ed by the bureau. They were placed
in school, in shop training, or in prop-
er employment. In many of the cas-
es, the employers in whose plants the
persons were injured have co-operat-
ed with the bureau of rehabilitation.
essere lpr.
Gettysburg Burial Place for World
War Heroes.
That Gettysburg has been chosen as
the place of burial for world war he-
roes who died overseas and whose rel-
atives prefer a national cemetery to
some private burying ground, is indi-
cated in the sending there of the body
of private Ward MacNaulty and its
interment in the Soldier’s National
cemetery. ;
The body was received from Eng-
land, where private MacNaulty died
while stationed with the 326th Aero
Squadron. It was buried with mili-
tary honors accorded by the Grand
Army and American Legion, who will
conduct all other future funerals of a
similar character. Private MacNaul-
ty’s father went from Akron, Ohio,
for the funeral.
Water We Carry.
The body of an average man,
weighing 154 pounds, contains forty-
six quarts of water. The bones are
nearly one-fourth water, the fat a lit-
tle less, the nerves more than one-
half water, and the skin nearly three-
quarters water. The brain, muscles,
lungs and heart are three-fourths wa-
ter, while the blood is more than four-
fifths water.
a
——
DAILY THOUGHT.
To live a martyr’s life for the sake of a
good cause is much greater strain on the
energies of the soul than to die a martyr’s
death.
Fourth of July Luncheon.—Place a
large toy cannon in the center of the
‘table. Make a quantity of tents
| either by folding napkins in their
! shape or by laying striped cotton cloth
over small frames of wire or, easiest
: of all, by buying toy tents. Arrange
| these on the table.
Buy also a box of tin soldiers on
foot and on horseback and scatter
‘them about among the tents. Put
' small flags at the top of each tent and
| among the bonbons.
Use tall vases filled with red and
{ white carnations and, blue bachelors’
| buttons either intermingled or group-
! ed in ‘colors separately. A bunch tied
| with narrow red, white and blue rib-
! bon may lie at each place.
Give each guest a bonbon box rep-
' resenting a common firecracker filled
{ with small scarlet candles. The name
. may be painted in white on the side of
| the cracker to serve as a guest card,
i as also a souvenir.
{ For your menu serve:
| Iced Currants
{ Iced Bouillon Watercress Sandwiches
Cold Salmon, Sauce Tartare
Tongue in Aspic
Tomatoes With French Dressing
Raspberry Lemonade Pineapple Salad
Cheese Straws
I Olives Almonds
Ice Cream in Drums
Cakes Bonbons
Here's a Patriotic Cake.—One cup-
i ful of butter, two cupfuls of granulat-
| ed sugar, one cupful of milk, three
and one-half cupfuls of flour, three
i level teaspoonfuls of baking powder,
| whites of six eggs. Sift the flour and
i baking powder together three times.
{ Add the milk and, last, the eggs; fla-
. vor to taste. Divide the batter into
i two equal portions. To one portion
add a few drops of pink fruit color-
ing. Bake in four layers. Put to-
gether with a white icing; ice in white
and decorate with small red and blue
ganies made to form the dates 1776-
The pie of pies for the Fourth of Ju-
ly is the scroll pie, which starts out
blithely to depict the Declaration of
Independence. It is a Jack Horner
' pie, and instead of being full of cher-
ries, or of birds, it is loaded with fa-
vors. These are inclosed in the lower
part of it, which rests upon the tables,
the ends being covered with crepe pa-
per. Through slits protrude the rib-
bon ends, which, when pulled, will re-
veal the favors. This particular scroll
pie costs $2.
But there are other pies.
Firecracker Pie—One of the sim-
plest pies is the Jack Horner fire-
cracker pie, Instead of being full of
explosives %nis particular pie is like
{ its brother or sister pies, full of fa-
vors. One may make it easily by cov-
ering a long round box with brilliant-
ly deep red paper. The favors cost
75 cents per dozen. Red ribbons will
be attached to these favors inside,
which may be the most iimexpensive
sort, or may assume the importance
, of fine presents.
A Drum Pie—Another easily made
pie may take the form of a drum. An
old round bandbox may serve for the
foundation. This drum is then cover-
ed over at the top end with white tis-
sue paper, through which the favor
ribbons are pulled. Around the sides
of the drum a strip of red, white and
blue striped crepe paper will look
well. This crepe paper costs 15 cents
a fold of 10 feet (width 20 inches)
and there’d be. lots left for decora-
tions. Of course, 2ll these things may
be ordered made, though there's al-
ways a great variety to choose from.
Fourth of July Table—The table
service for a Fourth of July dinner
should be of blue china, with a white
cloth, of course. A center-piece of red
geraniums in a blue bowl will com-
plete the patriotic color-scheme. The
place-cards may have tiny flags in the
corner, and the serviettes may be fold-
ed into tent-shapes with a wee flag
flying from the top, and a toy soldier
for sentry standing before each. To
carry out the color-scheme, the soup
may be cream of corn, with little red
stars cut from slices of beet floating
in it, and the fish course may be lobster
farci, with potatoes Parisienne. But
do not try for color at the expense of
the Zoodness of your food.—Woman’s
Home Companion.
“I'm going to give you a rule or two
about sleeves that will help you a
whole lot. First of all, thereis a
point at the top of the arm which we
shall call the center. You can tell it
by feeling for it, and the shoulder
seam usually falls here or just a wee
bit beyond it. The lengthwise thread
of your sleeve ought to run straight
from this point to your elbow. This
is really the test of a good-fitting
sleeve. To get your sleeve in right
where you have altered -your pattern
and have no notches to go by, try this
method: Measure one inch back of
the shoulder seam on your armhole,
fold the armhole in half at this point
and at the opposite point on the lower
part of the armhole make a notch for
the sleeve seam. Now fold the arm-
hole again so that ‘the shoulder and
underarm seams meet and notch the
folds to show the points between which
the sleeve fullness should fall. If the
sleeve humps at the top, slip it up a
bit under the shoulder instead of dis-
tributing the fullness.
Hang your straight skirts after you
have put in the hem from your belt,
but gored skirts are best hung from
the hem. You can measure the dis-
tance from the floor by putting a
piece of chalk between the crack of
your dining room table and turning
around slowly to let it mark off at
your hipline a uniform length from
the floor. Subtract from this the
length your skirt will be from the
floor and measure off the difference
with a yardstick from the chalk marks
for the bottom of your skirt. Itcan’t
be wrong.
American manufacturers of corsets
—and these are the greatest in the
world—say that there will not be ahy
radical changes in corsets this coming
fall and winter season.
sir wn,
FARM FACTS.
—Pennsylvania Crop Report.—The
Bureau of Statistics, Pennsylvania
Department of Agriculture, reports
the acreage and condition of crops in
this State on June 1, as follows:
Winter Wheat—The area sown to
wheat last fall was estimated at 1,-
592,770 acres which was three per
cent. less than the area sown the year
previous.
ing of ice which formed on low ground
last winter and early spring, together
with sowing too late in some instanec-
es and damage by the Hessian fly, the
area has been further reduced 26,630
acres; consequently the area to be
harvested is placed at 1,566,140 acres.
The condition of wheat on June 1 is
estimated at 86 per cent. of a normal,
and forecasts an average yield of 17.6:
bushels per acre and a total produc-
tion of 27,564,000 bushels. The crop.
last year was estimated at 29,190,000
bushels, and the average yield was
17.8 bushels per acre. The average
production of wheat for the past five
years was 26,319,780 bushels.
Spring Wheat—The area sown to
spring wheat is estimated at 21,117
acres, which is 85 per cent. of last
year’s area. The crop last year was
estimated at 401,304 bushels, which
was 15.3 bushels per acre.
Rye—The condition of rye is 92 per
cent. of a normal and is indicative of
a yield of 17.2 bushels per acre and a
total production of 4,027,000 bushels.
The crop last year was estimated at
3,865,877 bushels, and the average
vield was 17 bushels per acre. The
average production for the past five
years was 4,456,000 bushels.
Oats—Notwithstanding the lack of
farm help and the cold, wet weather
during the oat-sowing season, the es-
timated area sown to oats is 1,154,330
acres which is 97 per cent. of the area
sown last year. This proves pretty
conclusively, though handicappd, the
farmers are putting forth their best
efforts, with the aid of machinery and
labor-saving devices and such help as
is available, to produce as largely as
possible. The condition of the oats
on June 1 was 90 per cent. of a nor-
mal, indicating an average yield of
32.9 bushels per acre, and a total pro-
duction of 37,977,000 bushels. The
crop last year was est¥mated at 35,-
015,000 bushels, and the average for
the past five years, 38,717,000 bushels.
Barley—The area sown to barley is
estimated at 89 per cent. of last year’s
area, or 14,346 acres. Condition is
estimated at 90 per cent. of a normal
and points to a yield of 26.5 bushels
per acre, and a total production of
380,100 bushels. The total produc-
tion last year was estimated at 381,
500 bushels.
Hay—Condition of meadows is 88
per cent., which is nine per cent. be-
low conditions on June 1 last year.
Present indications are that the yield
will approximate 1.39 tons per acre;
and if the acreage harvested this year
is as large as last, the total crop will
be 4,158,000 tons as compared with
4,219,415 tons last year. The average
production for the past five years was
4,394,400 tons. ;
It appears that there were approxi-
mately 334,375 tons of hay in the far-
mers’ hands on June 1. This is eight
per cent. of last year’s crop.
—Less Dogs or More Fees.—From
news items of daily press it is report-
ed that the “dog catchers” of Paris
are paid thirty cents for each dog
caught by them.
In Pennsylvania the constable is the
authorized officer to enforce the dog
law, and is paid a fee of $1.00 for each
dog detained or destroyed. Unques-
tionably the opportunity is greater in
Pennsylvania for better returns to
these officers where dogs are more nu-
merous than where the dogs are few-
er and fees are less.
Reports show that the dog law of
1917 is more generally understood by
both dog owner and officer, and that
dog owners are more careful about
allowing their dogs to run at large.
The prosecution of careless dog
owners and the loss of dogs has made
these owners more observant and
ready to comply with the law.
—The work of enforcing the dog law
of 1917 will be vigorously prosecuted
during the summer months, according
to the Pennsylvania Department of
Agriculture. The department will in-
sist that the constables and police of-
ficers, together with the County Com-
missioners and County Treasurer do
not abate in their efforts to round up
unlicensed dogs and to prosecuté the
owners.
The state game protectors are aid-
ing in the enforcement of the law and
in Erie county, game protectors have
prosecuted twenty-one owners of un-
licensed dogs. This work will be eon-
tinued by game protectors in every
county where there is wild game.
—Pennsylvania’s maple trees pro-
duced a crop of syrup and sugar val-
ued at almost a million dollars, this
year, according to figures prepared
by the Bureau of Statistics, Pennsyl-
vania Department of Agriculture.
Although the maple products amount
to this great figure, the amount of
maple syrup produced was only 83
per cent. of the quantity produced last
year while only 80 per cent. as much
maple sugar was turned out this year.
The decreased production was brought
about by unfavorable weather condi-
tions.
According to a statement issued by
Director L. H. Wible, of the Bureau
of statistics, 264,000 gallons of maple
syrup were produced and sold at an
average price of $2.75 per gallon, rep-
resenting a total value of $727,670.
There were 549,440 pounds of maple
sugar produced this year and this sold
for an average price of 37 cents per
pound, the total value being $203,292.
—One time during the war Dr. Jor-
dan, of Geneva, advised the farmers
to put their work, their fertilizer,
their seed and their best efforts onto
the most productive, most easily-till-
ed part of the farm, and let the least
productive part lie fallow until labor
is more plentiful. This is good advice
now.
—The English sheep-raiser depends
largely upon roots for his winter suc-
culent feed. The man in this country
who has a large supply of roots in his
cellar and knows how to feed the
flock, has an advantage over the
sheep-raiser with an empty cellar,
The unusually heavy coat-
=