Bellefonte, Pa., July 16, 1920.
m———
OUR HOME COMING CELEBRA-
TION.
By S. L. Harlacher.
Our boys are coming home again
Their pockets full of pay,
We'll ask them all to come to town
And call it welcome day.
‘We'll have some things to draw a crowd,
Also a fine parade,
‘With airmen flying overhead,
And welcome speeches made.
The whiskey me must close their doors
The first day of July,
We'll ask the boys to take a drink
Before the town goes dry.
The whiskey men are generous,
For what small coin you pay
They'll make you walk like rolling ships
And take your wits away.
AGAINST TIME AND TIDE.
That there smell wagon o’ yourn’il
get you out of a job yet, young man.
Herz you was, due to go on beach pa-
trol at eight o’clock, and you come
puffin’ along on that fool thing two
hours late. You needn’t think, jest
because this station’s short handed,
you can take advantage o’ me. Once
was too many twice is rubbin’ it in,
three times—”
Captain Jimmy Robbins, keeper of
Cossett Reef Coast Guard Station,
significantly left the sentence unfin-
ished. There was no mistaking his
meaning. Young Fuller led his mo-
torcycle, a vehicle of ancient model,
which he had acquired but a short
time ago, around to the storehouse at
the rear of the station house.
He was certain of the futility of
trying to explain his tardiness. What
sympathy could the “old man” as they
all called Captain Robbins, be expect-
ed to have for an amateur motor cy-
clist and his engine trouble?
“Well what you lookin’ so black
about?” the deep booming voice of
Number Seven broke in on Ted’ dark
thoughts. “Did the old man get
aboard you for showin’ up late?”
“Yes,” admitted Ted, “an’ I guess
T’1l hand in my notice for the first o’
the month. I'm sick o’ this anyway.”
“Oh, pshaw,” laughed Edwards.
“You’ll feel all right in an hour or
two. You're too young to let a little
call like ‘that worry you. And, be-
sides, you'll have to admit you had it
comin’ to you.”
“How could I help having two
punctures and a sooty spark plug on
the way out? You don’t think I'd
get into all that trouble a-purpose, do
you? And then to have the old man
talk about rubbin’ it in and takin’ ad-
vantage of him!”
As Ted trudged along the north
beach patrol the next morning in a
blinding snowstorm from the north-
west, that had raged all night, dissat-
isfaction with his work and a sense of
the lonesomeness of it all still ob-
sessed him. He was more determined
than ever to quit the first of the
month. This north beach patrol in a
storm like this one was no work for a
human being, anyway, he told him- |
self, bitterly.
It was dreadfully cold. His hands
were numb, despite his heavy woolen
mittens and in the cold fury of the
gale his face felt stiff and frozen. In
the snow, waist deep in places where
it had drifted, it was almost impossi-
ble to keep to the path at the top of
the bluffs, which the heavily shod feet
of the surfmen had worn for two
miles along the shore. Once he bare-
ly escaped falling down onto the ice-
covered boulders below. Finally
reaching the last key house, he punch-
ed in and started back, breasting the
gale.
The cold blackness all about him
turned gradually to gray and then to
white. It would be daylight in a few
minutes; but the prospect failed to
cheer him. The monotonous roar of
the surf as it pounded the hard, white
sand of the beach, got on his nerves.
“I’ve had all I want,” he muttered.
But he admitted that things might
have seemed different if it had not
been for Captain Jimmy’s attitude to-
ward his motorcycling. He had found
fault from the day nearly two months
ago, when Ted had brought it to the
station.
“But I certainly couldn’t ’a’ stuck it
out here nearly all winter if it hadn’t
been for the old smell wagan,” Ted re-
flected. His occasional tfips to the
village, fifteen miles up the beach, to
“civilization,” as the surfman called
it, were all that made the monoton-
ous life of the lonesome Cossett Reef
Station endurable for young Ted Ful-
ler. He was only a youngster; but,
despite his youth, he had held out bet-
ter than three older recruits who had
come and gone during the winter. But
even for the most hardened surfman
it was a dreary, lonesome job during
the winter; and even old Bill Edwards
had been known to chafe under the
“demnition grind,” as he was fond of
calling it.
Ted found himself counting the
days to the first of the month. Yes,
he would get through. They could
call him quitter at the station and
again back home, if they wanted to;
but he had had enough.
The sudden flare of a rocket was
visible through the snow to windward,
interrupting his thoughts. The short
blast of a horn reached his ears faint-
ly, above the sound of the gale and
the seas. It came from the direction
of the reef, two miles off shore. Had
they heard it at the station, he won-
dered? Had they been able to see the
flare from the lookout in the tower?
It was doubtful. And a craft wouldn’t
stay afloat fifteen minutes on the reef
in this storm! :
Turning quickly about, Ted hurried
back through the gale to the key
house and telephoned to the station.
It was Captain Jimmy, himself, who
answered the ’phone.
A half hour later Ted reached the
station. The doors of the beach house
were open wide and the house was
empty. But only a short distance off
shore Ted could make out the surf
boat returning. It had been a quick
trip. Another rescue to the credit of
Cossett Reef. It meant nothing less;
Captain Jimmy never failed to get
what he went after. Ted could not
| prevent the thrill of pride that went |
over him at the thought.
The surf boat hove in plainer view
presently. Big Bill Edwards, Num-
ber Seven, was at the helm. With the
skill of long practice he ran the boat
in onto the ways. But they were a
glum lot of surfmen who shoved the
boat in under cover. In the bottom of
the craft were two half-frozen fisher-
men, who had been taken off the
doomed craft; and Captain Jimmy,
himself, lying straight and still be-
neath a pile of oilers and the sweat-
ers of the surfmen. ;
“It’s a case for a doctor and right
away,” explained Edwards in answer
to Ted’s question. “He fell in the
heave of a big sea and got jammed
between the surf boat and the side o’
the smack. One o’ those fishermen’s
n a bad way, too.”
“No use,” announced Edwards a
moment later, emerging from the cap-
tain’s office. “Wire's down. We'll
| have to run up to the village in the
i surf boat—that is, if we can get out
past the reef.”
Ted had disappeared. Presently
the pop and roar of his motorcycle
reached the ears of the surfmen in the
locker room, where they were apply-
ing first aid treatment to the injured
men.
Edwards ran to the door. “You
can’t make it on that thing in all this
snow,” he shouted.
“There’s the beach,” declared Ted.
“No snow there and the tide’s out.”
“Go to it then, youngster and re-
member, time counts!”
Opening wide the throttle, Ted ad-
vanced the spark and the “smell wag-
on” leaped ahead over the hard pack-
ed sand. The wash from the giant
comber covered the tires as he drove
ahead. At the rocks of Cormorant
Point he was obliged to slow down,
zig-zagging his way among the boul-
ders.
On the left rose the steep, clay face
of the bluffs and on his right thunder-
ed the surf. The tide had begun to
rise; there was need for haste if he
was to come back the way he was
going. Occasional patches of big,
round pebbles retarded his progress.
He clutched the handle-bars with all
the strength of his numb hands and
managed to keep his seat. The cut-
ting spray from the combers froze on
the glass of his goggles and in the
driving snow he could see but a few
feet ahead. Time and again he bare-
ly avoided collision with the occasion-
al weed-grown boulders that protrud-
ed their black backs through the sand.
But at every opportunity he advanced
the spark to the last notch. He real-
ized grimly that time was, indeed,
precious. He was racing against time
and tide as well. There was not a sec-
ond to spare.
Eighteen minutes later he was
pushing his motorcycle through the
drifts to the front door of Dr. Robin-
son’s on Ocean Avenue. No urging
was necessary to enlist the young
doctor’s services when it was Captain
Jimmy Robbins who needed him.
“It’s kind of cold,” apologized Ted.
“But we’ll be there in less than twen-
ty minutes by the beach. Get up be-
hind, sir,” he directed. With a roar
that drowned out even the noise of
the surf, the “smell wagon” was un-
der way again, the doctor clinging
tightly"to Ted’s waist. There was no
chance for further talk.
The tide had risen perceptibly dur-
ing the last twenty minutes, Ted no-
ticed in alarm, and the wash of the
advancing combers forced him back
toward the softer sand. Progress was
necessarily slower. :
The tires cut at times deeply into
the sand; the wheel wobbled furious-
ly and Ted barely prevented a spill.
The strain on his wrists and his half-
frozen hands was terrible. They were
drenched again and again in the icy
spray from the combers and all the
time they were forced nearer and
nearer to the soft sand at the foot of
the bluffs.
Half way to the hubs of the wheels
the wash of the breakers raced up the
beach. If it reached his carbureter
Following the back-wash down to
the harder sand, Ted opened the
throttle wide and shot ahead at ter-
rific speed through the wild storm un-
til another advancing breaker crowd-
ed him back again toward the cliff. It
required all his strength and all his
skill at the handle-bars to prevent a
spill that would mean a delay, if
nothing worse. And a delay, he real-
ized, tightening his grip, might prove
fatal to the injured keeper back there
at the station.
It was snowing harder than ever.
Ted could see scarcely ten yards
ahead. A great boulder loomed up
suddenly through the thickly falling
flakes. He veered to seaward of it
and struck the wash of another com-
ber with a rush that enveloped them
in a drenching cloud of icy spray. The
strength of it threatened to pull the
wheels out from under them.
But they passed the boulder in safe-
ty and Ted opened up once more to
full speed. For the moment there was
a bare stretch of hard, white sand
ahead of them. Ted made the most
of it, before the next breaker roared
in to cover it with three feet and more
of water. A moment later another
rush of water forced them again to
retreat up the beach into the looser
sand, and Ted was obliged to slow
down again.
His clock told him that he had al-
ready been gone over half an hour and
there were still five mile to go. But
the going was continually more diffi-
cult, as the advancing combers on the
rising tide crowded him closer still to
the cliff. During the next minute and
a half his speedometer registered
another mile. The moments when the
back-wsah of the combers allowed
him a spell on the firmer sand were
becoming continually rarer.
And on ahead, a mile this side of
the station, were the rocks of Cormor-
ant point. He knew they were not far
off now. The roar of the surf among
the outer boulders was brought plain-
ly to him by the gale. Presently the
first of them was visible through the
SNOW.
He was obliged to pick a new way
through the big patch of boulders;
the rising tide had completely cover-
ed his tracks of thirty minutes ago.
Suddenly without warning, the sting-
ing spray of a giant sea enveloped
them. Blinded, Ted lost control of
the machine. Next instant they had
crashed into a boulder and were pitch-
ed headlong over its rounded back.
=
Ted was covered next instant in a
freezing deluge of foaming, roaring
water and hurled with stunning force
against another rock. He reached out
with stiff fingers and clung on with
all his remaining strength against the
receding surge. He looked dazed
about him. s
Dr. Robinson was clinging to anoth-
er boulder near by and the motor half
buried in the rush of sand that ‘the
breaker had carried in. In the water
near it Ted noticed the doctor’s in-
strument case. With a leap he seiz-
ed it before it had been washed out of
sight.
The old “smell wagon” had fared
poorly. One of the tires was ripped
clean off. The front fork was twisted
and the carbureter was choked with
sand.
“Look out!” warned Ted, as anoth-
er sea raced, roaring in among the
boulders.
“We've got a mile to do yet,” he
exclaimed a moment later.
Dr. Robinson tried to walk but fell
down with a groan. But they were
not yet out of danger. Another sea,
higher than any that had preceded it,
flooded over the doctor, as he lay
there, for the moment, helpless. Rush-
ing in, Ted seized him and held him
against the pull of the back-wash.
“It’s my ankle,” exclaimed the doc-
tor, disgustedly. “I'm afraid I won’t
be able to walk on it for a while, he |
added shiveringly.
“I'll carry you then,” decided Ted.
“You see, it’s my job to get you to
the station.”
“And the motorcycle?” queried Dr.
Robinson.
“It’s a goner now, I guess,
Ted grimly.
A half hour later Ted : taggered up
the snow-covered planks to the station
house, the doctor astride his back.
Despite his injured ankle and his half-
frozen condition, Dr. Robinson, insist-
ed, first of all, in looking over his pa-
tients.
“You got me here just in time,” he
said, turning to Ted. “And it's lucky
you saved my instrument case out of
the wreck.”
Captain Jimmy's injuries consisted
of three cracked ribs and a concus-
sion of the brain; but he would pull
through, Dr. Robinson declared.
“So you’ve decided not to quit us,
eh?” asked Captain Jimmy a few
weeks later, when he had quite recov-
ered from his injuries.
“I was thinking I'd stay on a while
longer, if it’s agreeable,” replied Ted
awkwardly.
“Well, you jest take a look out in
the store-house,” continued Captain
Jimmy. “There’s something out there
that the boys brought from the vil-
lage in the surfboat this morning
while you were down the beach. The
department got a full report, it
seems,” he explained with eyes twink-
ling, “of that beach ride o’ yourn the
other day.”
In the store-house Ted found, crat-
ed with his name on it, a brand new
motorcycle, a gift from the station,
“to replace the old smell wagon.”—
The Boys’ Magazine.
renee eee.
A Teacher Placement Service.
”
replied
Obtaining suitable teachers for the
public schools of the Commanwealth
is one of the most important functions
of the public school officer, and the de-
gree of wisdom exercised in making a
choice of teachers frequently deter-
mines the success of a school system.
The assistance of some central agency
is often necessary in order to secure
any breadth of choice, and the var-
ious private teachers’ agencies have,
in consequence, performed a real serv-
ice to the schools of the State.
It has been felt, however, that this
function should not be left entirely to
private enterprise, but should be one
of the services rendered by the State
Department of Public Instruction.
Notably in the States of Massachu-
setts and Minnesota teachers’ employ-
ment and registration bureaus have
been established and have succeeded
in materially assisting school author-
ities in finding suitable persons as
teachers in their schools.
It is now the intention of this de-
partment to inaugurate a similar
service as one of the functions of the
Teacher Bureau. No fee of any kind
will be charged for this service.
In order to function effectively, it
will be necessary that the largest pos-
sible number of actual and prospect-
ive teachers register with the Teach-
er Bureau upen the registration card
which has been provided for this pur-
pose, and which may be secured upon
application; and for school districts
in need of teachers to file with the
Bureau a request for candidates, a
form for which is also provided and
may be secured upon request.
Superintendents and school officers
should give the widest possible pub-
licity to this information, bringing it
to the attention of boards of school
directors, principals of schools, teach-
ers, and all other persons interested
in teaching in order that the shortage
of teachers which we face at the pres-
ent time may be met and the public
schools of the Commonwealth com-
petently served.
Didn’t Interest Him.
A gentleman here from Georgia
says the labor situation in the South
this year reminds him of this story:
“A negro applied to a cotton plan-
tation manager for work. :
“All right,” said the manager.
“Come around in the morning and I'll
put you to work and pay what you are
worth.”
“No sur, I can’t do dat,” replied the
negro. “Ise gittin’ mo’ dan dat now.”
—Commerce and Finance.
Practical Girl.
“They say that stolen kisses are the
sweetest,” he said, as they sat on the
piazza, looking at the moon.
“Indeed ?” she said.
“Yes. What do you think about
it?”
“Oh, I have no opinion at all, but it
seems to me if I were a young man I
wouldnt be long in doubt whether
they were or not.”—Boston Trans-
cript.
ee
——Men suffer most from lack of
application in forming a clear idea of
the subject on which they are em-
ployed.
, DANGER OF DEIFYING THE COM-
| MONPLACE IN PROPOSED
STATE HIGH SCHOOL
COURSES.
By Richard M. Gummere, Ph. D., Head-
. master William Penn Charter School.
| Reform means progress; but novel-
ty sometimes means decline. The
i best type of reform distinguishes be-
{tween the elements which make for
‘improvement and the novelties which
‘lead the community astray. The ideal
: servants of the government, whether
| federal or state, must, therefore, not
| permit the introduction of hobbies and
| personal preferences. They must not
talk exaggeratedly in order to talk ef-
i fectively. The whole group of the
| people needs a consistent program,
| free from cross currents and sweeping
lon in solid consistency. The little par-
| adoxes which appear so delightful in
{ the drawing room must be forgotten
| in the council chamber.
| One who looks beneath the surface
| of the present school situation in the
| State of Pennsylvania will see in the
{new plans of the educational depart-
| ment at Harrisburg much to admire.
| He will have nothing but respect for
{ the movement to pay teachers higher
| salaries, and thus keep up the supply
| of well-balanced men and women to
| whom it is safe to intrust the mutual
‘training of his sons and daughters.
| Remembering that “teachers’ insti-
| tutes” are usually the height of inef-
| fective talk and a waste of money, he
| will applaud the new suggestion that
"the financial supply devoted to these
! meetings should be turned into sum-
| mer school training and definite per-
1iodic attendance at such classes as
| those which are conducted at the Uni-
| versity of Pennsylvania on weekday
{ afternoons and Saturday mornings.
| He will hope that, instead of being
| content with raising the salaries of
i teachers, the state authorities will
| carry out their plans for stricter and
| more adequate certifications. And as
| to building facilities—by all means,
he would urge, keep your buildings
open for rotation of educational ¢om-
munity activities throughout the day
and evening and see that children are
housed without congestion and taught
without confusion or neglect.
But the subjects to be taught in the
school course itself! Here the thought-
ful observer sees reason for alarm.
The educators at the head of the state
system are being led astray by a hob-
by and taken out of their proper
course by a cross-current. They miss
the point of an education which is to
benefit the whole community. They
are in danger of adopting a novelty
which will mean decline rather than
progress. They are overemphasizing
the utility element in education—to
the peril of those mental habits which
a good education fosters and develops.
Their plan is all very well for obser-
vation and memory, but it leaves out
imagination, reason and taste, not to
speak of the moral eiement, which de-
pends on wide knowledge of what the
world in its long course has shown to
be vital.
Another kind of mistake is now be-
ing made at Harrisburg (as it has al-
so been made in other States). Dr.
William D. Lewis, deputy superin-
tendent of education, in sitting down
to plan a new course for the High
1 school pupils of the Commonwealth
has applied to the whole state system
ideas which worked very well in a
commercial High school. Doctor Lew-
is can reflect with just satisfaction on
his improvements in the domestic arts
and business courses at the William
Penn High school for Girls. ;
He saw clearly that household eco-
nomics make better citizens and that
practical life is aided by a knowledge
of practical things. But when he al-
lows these essentially practical cours-
es to be the fundamental groundwork
of all teaching, he goes astray educa-
tionally, just as Matthey Arnold fifty
years ago went astray in biblical and
political criticism. Doctor Lewis, in
his proposal to make a housekeeper
out of every girl and a business man
out of every boy, gave us some wel-
come thoughts. But they are not all
of education. I say that these things
are not the groundwork of all teach-
ing; they are simply the shell—a use-
ta Jat of the building, but still a
shell.
He proposes, now that he is in
charge of the state High school cours-
es, to, first, eliminate all foreign lan-
guages (ancient or modern) as requir-
ed subjects; second, reduce four years
of mathematics—that splendid round
of arithmetic, algebra, geometry
which trains the thinking and reason-
ing faculty as nothing else can—to a
single year of hashed-up algebra and
geometry combined, which will result
in knowing neither of these subjects
adequately; third, instead of a solid
year of physics or chemistry—which
college professors tell us is still inad-
equate to a thorough knowledge of
their principles—he would install two
years of “general science;” fourth,
four years of commercialized English
with no Latin, French, German or
Spanish to form a basis of compara-
tive study; fifth, the establishment of
a four-year course in combined histo-
ry and civiecs—which for nearly ail
the pupils would mean a bare parrot
study of officials, districts, products,
dates and interests, based upon text-
books made wholesale and totally un-
connected with the vital currents of
ancient medieval or English history.
In place of all these solid subjects
training (which in past years he
rightly emphasized as desirable for
at least a part of the children’s cur-
riculum) would dominate the whole
four years of high school. A thin ve-
neer of handmade English, second-
hand history and smattering of sci-
ence would shut out all visions of
mental progress: which every pupil
has a right to expect. The fourth year
of the course would be no more ad-
vanced than the first, and would de-
scend to the level of the eighth grade
of the grammar school.
What becomes, then, of the boy who
expects to work his way through col-
lege after a public school course? It
makes no difference whether 90 per
cent. of Pennsylvania pupils do not
enter college or whether a scant 10
per cent. have college ambitions. The
point is that all should be given equal
privi 2ges to enter college if they so
desire. Such a system would be un-
democratic and un-American because
it denies the opportunity of leader-
ship. And very few pupils will be
thoughtful enough to elect those solid
subjects of their own volition.
People have lost sight of the fact
that we are educating leaders and not
followers. We are in danger of dei-
fying the commonplace. The lack of
mathematics and an exact science
would handicap the future engineer;
the lack of languages would handicap
the business man who hopes to have
foreign trade connections and the pro-
fessional man who needs culture; the
lowered English standard would pre-
vent the understanding of masterpiec-
es and cut off many a future writer :
from adequate familiarity with the
best written English.
The business world is now com- |
plaining of the lack of men who can
take and hold responsible positions;
what will become of the supply? How
helpless “will our representatives
abroad be in competition and contrast
with a Frenchman who in the most
elementary forms of his education |
could surpass our college Freshmen! |
The result will be that Dr. Lewis’s 10 |
per cent. of college aspirants, who |
take foreign languages and mathe- |
matics as electives (the 90 per cent. |
will avoid them like poison) and the !
private school graduates, will form an |
educated caste, set over against those |
who can work with their hands but !
not with their minds. |
We should in this case be Prussian- |
izing the people—creating two
groups, one of which will be handi- |
capped by lack of thought and knowl- !
edge and power of expression and the
other of which will have a monopoly |
of higher education. It will be hard-
er and harder for Lincolns to make
their way and easier and easier for
bureaucrats to get control of affairs.
Capital and labor, instead of under-
standing each other, will be at oppo-
site poles. Is this true democracy?
I hope sincerely that every high-
school graduate will have had at least
three years of one foreign language.
To do this is to set the mind free for
advancement; to close the door by do-
ing away with these essentials is to
lock the door on progress, to cut down
our supply of leaders and to make a
man’s four years of mathematics and
a solid year of either physics or chem-
istry, or a woman’s leisure time a
mere matter of “movies” or rocking-
chair vacuity.
{
i
i
i
|
U. S. SPEAKS BETTER ENGLISH
THAN ENGLAND, BRITON
SAYS.
London.—Dornford Yates, writing
in the Sunday Observer, pays a trib-
ute to the teaching of the English
language in American public schools.
“As a rule,” he writes, “the vocabula-
ries of the Englishman who has been
to a public school and of his sister are
almost as poor as those of their
American cousins are rich. If Eng-
lish were taught in our schools as it
is taught in the United States we
should not lie under this reproach. It
is a pity that so gooaiy a neritage as
the English speech should not be
without honor save in its own coun-
try.”
Conceding that the English of the
“indigenous American laborer is not
so good as that of his fellows in this
country,” Mr. Yates sets out to prove
his charges against the “king’s Eng-
lish” as spoken in Britain, as follows:
“The regular use by Americans of
the word “fall” for autumn, and the
uncertainty of some Englishmen re-
garding its ownership, are illuminat-
ing. No American having authority
would think of claiming the word, but
if he were to affirm that in certain
American circles there is spoken to-
day a fairer and purer English than
that generally used in the correspond-
ing or lighter circles of this country
he could not be truthfully contradict-
e
For proof of this statement we need
not dig very deep.
“Among English words ‘get’ is a |
thoroughbred. Pure Anglo-Saxon, it
is a ‘strong’ verb and one of the old-
est words in our language. It is left
to America to preserve in everyday
speech its perfect participle, ‘gotten,’
in its original form.
“No educated American will mis-
pronounce ‘towards,’ another pure An-
glo-Saxon word, over which five out
of six educated Englishmen and wom-
en will come to grief.
“We speak of a ‘job’ (Latin and
Old French) and are hard put to it to
find a synonym for a word which has
parted with what little dignity it had.
Americans speak of a ‘chore’ which is
pure Anglo-Saxon (cierr-char-chore)
end means ‘a turn of work.’
“An American will never refer to
the vessel from which we are accus-
tomed to drink water as a ‘tumbler,’
because he has been taught correctly
that a ‘tumbler’ is a drinking-glass so
called, because from its base ending
in a point it could not be set down till
completely empty of liquor.
“In the United States a ‘jug’ be-
comes a ‘pitcher.’ There can be no
manner of doubt which is the prettier
word, and while the etymology of the
former is doubtful—in all probability
it is a slang term—the pedigree of
‘pitcher’ is clear enough. The latter
is of Greek, Low Latin and Old
French descent.
“ ‘Elevator’ is ugly, formal and ag-
gressively up-to-date, but the con-
trivance it names is modern, and new
wine should be put into new bottles.
Our slovenly use of the word ‘lift’ in
this connection is a disgrace.
“Much of the English spoken in the
United States is highly artificial. For
the American who speaks of ‘a clari-
fied intellect,” when he means a ‘clear
head,’ I have little regard. But it is
not to his school that I am referring.”
Marriage Licenses.
Lloyd E. Guiser, Mingoville, and
Mary E. Peters, Mill Hall.
William Wyant and Clair Linga- |
felt, Hollidaysburg.
Lewis L. Crain, Sandy Ridge, and
Sarah M. Cowfer, Port Matilda.
John H. Kuhn and Emma K. Rowe,
Boalsburg.
Willis W. Stephens and Emily A.
Neidigh, State College.
Elmer L. Lingle and Velma E.|
Weaver, Spring Mills.
Ralph W. Mansfield, Morristown,
| time.
| the age of fourteen as a school teach-
{ The Woman Citizen was
! Mrs. Catt in 1917.
and Helen I. Morton, State College.
TT
It’s all here and it’s all true.
Read the “Watchman” and see.
WOMAN’S NEW SPHERE.
At sixty-one Mrs. Carrie Chapman
Catt, of the United States, is the
world’s undisputed leader in the cause
of equal rights for women. After de-
voting forty years to the cause of
woman suffrage, Mrs. Catt was ready
' to retire and see a younger woman at
the head of the International Woman
Suffrage Alliance, but the Congress in
' Geneva insisted that she continue to
‘lead the organization. The assem-
blage of delegates from all over the
world re-elected her unanimously, and
Mrs. Catt accepted the office, despite
i her declaration that she felt compel-
| led to retire.
Mrs. Catt founded the Internation-
al Woman Suffrage Alliance in 1902,
and has been its president since that
Mrs. Catt began her career at
er in Iowa. Later she earned her way
: through Iowa State College. Her first
| conspicuous entry - into the political
arena was in 1892, when she address-
ed a United States Senate committee.
In 1900 she was elected president of
the National American Woman Suf-
frage Association, and was described
by Susan B. Anthony, who previously
held that office, as “the ideal leader.”
During Mrs. Catt’s career all the
full suffrage States except Wyoming,
the pioneer, were won. From 1904 to
1915 Dr. Anna Howard Shaw was
president of the National American
Woman Suffrage Association. In
11915 Mrs. Catt was re-elected to that
| office and continues to hold it today.
founded by
After the government accepted the
services of the oragnization during
the war and formed a woman's com-
mittee in connection with the Council
of National Defense, Mrs. Catt fore-
saw full suffrage for the women of
the United States as an immediate
achievement. She outlined a plan for
a national and international League
of Women Voters, the former becom-
ing an actuality in St. Louis in the
spring of 1919.
Since the organization of the Inter-
national Woman Suffrage Alliance,
which Mrs. Catt continues to head,
much has been accomplished for the
cause of suffrage in Tasmania,
Queensland, Finland, Norway, Swe-
den, Denmark, Belgium, Russia, Po-
land, Great Britain, Victoria, Iceland,
Germany, Holland, Canada, Hungary
and other countries.
Confidence that enfranchised wom-
en will bring fresh and spiritual ideas
to aid in the solution of pressing
world problems was expressed by
Mrs. Josephus Daniels speaking at
the congress of the International
Woman Suffrage Alliance in Geneva.
In making that statement she an-
nounced she was voicing the senti-
ment of President Wilson. In outlin-
Ing a woman suffrage creed Mrs. Dan-
iels said in part:
“What women did in the war has
hastened the conferring of the ballot.
In our country the day of agitation
for enfranchisement has passed. The
hour has come when we must prove
by deeds that we accept our new du-
ties with a sense of our obligation to
measure up to our new and high mis-
sion.
“As we go into the political trench-
es let us endeavor to be as intrepid,
alm as straight and keep our nerve as
steady as our brothers in their grim
battles. As voters we must find a way
i to carry help and comfort to those
who live in want or peril.”
Commissioned rank for women ar-
my nurses is about to become a reali-
ty. During the war the army nurses
learned that rank was indispensable
if they were to work with the great-
est efficiency. They learned that there
Is nothing which the enlisted man
recognizes and respects more readily
than shoulder insignia. Since the
| signing of the armistice the nurses
have fought for rank and they have
won.
The nature of their rank is such
that the buck private will not be of-
{ fended to think that he has to obey
the commands of a lady lieutenant. In
the army reorganization legislation
“assimilated rank” ranging from that
of lieutenant to major is conferred on
members of the army nurse corps.
Assimilated rank entails limited au-
thority. It does not really call for a
commission nor carry the pay, allow-
ances or emoluments of one. The in-
cidents of rank conferred upon the
nurses are:
First. The dignity of the name of
the rank.
Second. The right to wear the in-
signia thereof.
Third. The eligibility to exercise
{ authority within the limits set forth
in the law, which are as follows: “As
regards medical and sanitary matters
and all work in the line of their du-
ties they shall have and be regarded
as having authority in and about mil-
itary hospitals next after the medical
officers of the army.”
Several Senators discussing that
phase of the army reorganization plan
confessed ignorance of what assimi-
lated rank really meant, but were sat-
isfied when Senator Wadsworth de-
clared that, whatever it meant, it was
what the nurses asked for.
More Apples and Peaches.
Complete estimates on the fruit
crop of the State, covering every
county and farm, as well as com-
mercial and private orchards, are
made by the Department of Agricul-
ture for Pennsylvania, as follows:
Apples, 10,543,000 bushels, compared
with 7,614,000 bushels a year ago;
peaches, 1,444,000 bushels compared
with 914,000; pears 489,000 bushels.
——The Navy Department has an-
' nounced the successful completion of a
gun that will shoot nearly 110 miles.
Work on this gun was begun when
word was first received that a German
gun was shelling Paris 75 miles
away. Details of the gun have not
been made public and no projectile
has been fired for the distance claimed,
but the carrying power of the weapon
has been estimated from careful tests.
——To most men experience is like
the stern lights of a ship, which illu-
minate only the track it has passed.
——The “Watchman” office is the
place to get the best job work.