fon =a
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Denornaic Wada,
~TED
Bellefonte, Pa., December 10, 1920.
nm
—
THE CRY OF THE DREAMER.
1 am tired of planning and toiling
In the crowded hives of men,
Heart-weary of building and spoiling
And spoliing and building again.
And I long for the dear old river
Where I dreamed my youth away,
For a dreamer lives forever,
And a toiler dies in a day.
1 am sick of the showy seeming
Of life that is half a lie,
Of the faces lined with scheming
In the throng that hurries by,
From the helpless thoughts endeavor
I would go where the children play—
For a dreamer lives forever,
And a thinker dies in a day.
I can feel no pride, but pity,
For the burdens the rich endure;
There is nothing sweet in the city
But the patient lives of the poor.
Oh, the little hands too skillful,
And the child mind choked with weeds
The daughter's heart grown willful,
And the father's heart that bleeds.
No, no; from the street's rude bustle,
Trom the trophies from mart and stage
I would fly to the wood’s low rustle
And the meadow's kindly page.
Let me dream as of yore by the river,
And be loved for the dream alway,
For the dreamer lives forever,
But the toiler dies in a day.
AN ALTAR ON LITTLE THUNDER.
(Concluded from last week).
At Couch’s first sentence the con-
cealed man had quivered like a polled
ox. 'Thenceforward, though no word
that followed escaped his ears, he lay
with his lips pressed to the earth. As
this incredible, this monstrous drama
went on beneath him—his wife listen-
ing to another man’s words of love—
he clenched and relaxed his hands,
twisted his body from side to side, as
if striving to free himself from a
crushing weight. But his efforts came
to naught, like the impotent struggles
of one in a dream. All strength had
gone out of him. To shoot the traitor,
to leap down and by his mere pres-
ence give the lie to Couch’s assertions
—these thoughts came. But they al-
so passed, as idle, futile as the fig-
ments of a drugged brain.
In prison Ash had never abandoned
hope, or sunk in sullen despair, or
hardened his heart against his kind, or
become as a ravening wolf, like some
of his cell-mates. But summoning a
fortitude of which his commonplace
exterior gave no hint, he had resolved
that, hurt his body as they might,
they should not destroy his soul.
It was a noble resolution, but its
complete execution was not humanly
possible. Somewhere between his
heart and his throat, in spite of him-
self, there came a lump that would
neither up nor down, that persisted
from his waking in the morning, at
the sullen boom of the cell-house
gong, until the measured step of the
guard at night on the cold, concrete
floor of the corridor grew faint and
remote in his consciousness and final-
ly ceased. And that fetor, that noi-
some emanation from caged things,
be they men or animals, sickened
lungs which had known only the pure,
balsamic air of the mountain.
When the warden and an assistant,
on his reception at the prison, had
searched and stripped him, they took
more than his clothes, jack-knife, a
few nickels and dimes, and his plug of
tobacco. These they gave back when
he was freed. But they had taken
something they did not give back—
could not give back.
Society had said to him, through
her agents of court and prison, “Be
patient; wear these stripes for a few
years for your own good, and then we
will take them off.” But she had lied,
for she had burned those stripes into
him with hot and smoking irons—the
4x7 cell, the lock-step, the rock-pile,
the shorn head; systematic humilia-
tions and degredations, such as the
stew-pan in which his food was flung
like scraps for a dog, the prohibition
to speak to his mates, the substitution
of a number for his name. She had
made these stripes as ineffaceable as
the leopard’s spots or the sable skin
of the Ethiop. And she had burned
them deep as well as wide, searing his
blithe spirit, drying up his youthful
blood, making him old before his
time.
At first he had not realized his mu-
tilation. In the days preceding his
emancipation, indeed, he had forgot-
ten it. But on the streets of the peni-
tentiary city, at the station, on the
train, at Pardeeville, he saw that he
was a social leper. He looked for-
ward, however, to the mountain, as a
pious Mohammedan to Mecca, as a
place of cleansing. He had shed the
hated prison garments, as if the pol-
lution lay in them. Alas! the words
of a barefooted boy had disillusioned
him, had made him fearful and dis-
trustful of his former friends.
But whoever might be for or
against him, whatever opinion men
might hold of his crime—yea, wheth-
er guilty or innocent in the sight of
Heaven itself—there was one upon
whose fidelity he counted as upon the
fidelity of his right hand to his left;
whose steadfastness to him was like
that of the magnetic needle for the
pole; whose outstretched arms of wel-
come he as certainly expected to find
as the mountain itself upon which he
had been born. Not that he was wor-
thy of this supreme loyalty, not that
he had been a good husband always,
or had always’ eased her burden when
opportunity offered, but because it
was her nature to be true, because un-
faithfulness was as unthinkable in her
as lukewarmness in the sun; and he
would as soon have expected to see the
seasons fail in their appointed proces-
sion, or the Great Bear cease to swing
around the pole-star, as that Nance
should swerve from her altar vows.
Yet now even she— :
He crawled slowly up the slope, like
the wounded thing that he was, mak-
ing for the fastnesses where no man
might find him out. His fortitude had
withstood every shock since the hour
he entered that arched gate which | bl
might well have borne the legend,
| «T,eave hope behind all ye who enter
here.” But soon he paused, exhaust-
ed. Then, with the terrible, wrench-
ing groan of the strong man in agony,
he cast himself upon the ground and
wept like a child. :
It was morning before his mind
ceased to stagger in the cataclysmic
chaos. But peace came at last, and,
lo! he who had always been so quick
to avenge now forgave. More than
that, he justified. He perceived that,
on the whole, Rufus Couch had sum-
med up the facts correctly; that
Nance, in accepting Rufe’s hand, was
only following the guidance of her
maternal instincts. That she still
loved him, but had laid her love upon
a sacrificial altar, was plain to Ash.
This idea of sacrifice, of vicarious
suffering, grew upon him. Lately cer-
tain high aspirations had settled up-
on himself, like doves of heaven. He
had resolved, for instance, never to
drink another drop of whiskey, to
work with might and main that he
might ameliorate his poverty, never
to leave Nance any unnecessary
chores to do, never again to unbridle r
! out nails or glue.
his tongue against her, never to deny
her, as he had too often in the past,
any of the trinkets dear to 2 woman’s
heart. But these resolutions paled be-
fore the great service which, it was
now revealed to him, lay within his
bestowal. This was nothing less than
the obliteration of himself
have cause to question the wisdom of
her present course or plague herself
with vain regrets.
His renunciation did not spring full-
fledged into being. It was born in
travail, like all earthly things. Butit
grew apace and waxed stronger with
the days. Prudence counseled him to
leave the mountain at once. But he
cringed momentarily before the ter-
rors of that unknown, hostile land
called “Below,” where alone he could
bury his identity beyond peradventure
of discovery, and he persuaded him-
self that it would be better to tarry
until Nance’s marriage was a fact.
However, in order to run no risk of
beeing seen, he took up his habitation
in the somber, boulder-strewn solitude
of the Bald, where the noble arboreal
growth of the side was replaced by an
occasional stunted, deformed shrub,
clinging to the crevice from which it
sucked its scanty nourishment, scorch-
ed by the summer sun, twisted and
frozen and threshed about by winter’s
furies; and where the swift shadow of
an eagle or the gray streak of a star-
tled lizard was the only sign of sen-
tient life.
Yet happiness found him out even
here—a still, hushed, voiceless happi-
ness, in keeping with the soundless
void around. He daily grew thinner,
his skin dried up like parchment, and
a feverish light shone from his eyes;
but when he lay on his back at night
and looked up at the flaring stars—
so near that in fancy he could hear
the rush and roar of conflagration un-
der the cosmic draughts of heaven—
he felt God’s invisible but beatific
smile, and caught the echo of His
“Well done, thou good and faithful
servant!”
Nance’s wedding bells were to ring
his knell—send him into exile scarce-
ly less dreaded than death. Yet the
preliminaries of her marriagé became
of absorbing interest to him. He kept |
the homes of Jethro Haws and Rufus
Couch under constant surveillance,
often tramping the four miles between
the two several times a day. As blind-
ness sharpens the ears, distance
sharpened his perception and deduc-
tion. He knew when Nance set out
for her divorce, accompanied by her
father and old ’Squire Galum, Little
Thunder’s only legal luminary. He
knew when she bought the stuff for
her wedding-gown. He also saw the
coming of the furniture for her new
home. He saw the people flock in, by
families and by wagon-loads, from far
away, to see the new house with its
twenty windows, kerosene lamps, and
other marvels.
Finally, when the maples were fling-
ing out their scarlet banners and the
nights were sharp with frost, an un-
wonted activity about the Haws cab-
in, and the arrival of three or four
aunts and uncles of Nance’s who lived
at a distance, left Ash in no doubt
that the morrow would be the wed-
ding-day.
His excitement must at least have
matched the bride’s. With the morbid
self-depreciation which had now be-
come habitual, he had no doubt that
this marriage was regarded by Nance
as of much more importance than her
former one, for the first groom was a
ne’er-do-well, but the present one the
richest man on Little Thunder. He
yearned to figure in it, however hum-
bly. He wanted to make her a pres-
ent anonymously. But, cut off from
stores and his kind, what could he
send ?
As his eyes fell upon a clump of as-
ters he remembered her love, almost
her passion, for these beautiful, wild
harbingers of the twilight of the
year; remembered how, when they
flung their nodding, delicate sprays
from every fence-corner, she would
fill her arms with the pretty ‘“blue-
faces,” as she called them.
So at midnight, bearing a great
sheaf of the finest plants he could
find, he stole down to her cabin, with
a tumultuous heart, and set them in a
piggin of rain-water, that they might
keep fresh. Then from the dark shad-
ow of a bush he gazed hungrily at the
low window in the north loft, former-
ly Nance’s room, and presumably now
occupied by her.
“Good-by, Nancy,
whispered.
He set out for his cabin for the first
time since his return, trusting him-
self, owing to the lateness of the hour,
to the road. Before she and Couch
should be made man and wife he ex-
pected to be miles away. Where? He
asked himself the question as he pre-
pared for the journey, removing his
beard and trimming his shaggy hair,
laying the shears and razor away, and
obliterating all traces of his visit. Be-
low—but just where?
At the sight of the bed—her bed—
illuminated by the yellow flare of the
“lightwood” on the hearth, a great
weariness seized him. His limbs
ached, and all the hardness of all the
rocks on which he had been sleeping
seemed to gather in the muscles of his
good-by 1” he
ack. -
“Pll drap down hyer a couple of
from !
Nance’s life, that she might never |
CORRE
: hours,” he said aloud to himself, as he
had fallen into the habit of doing.
“Lemme see! Ill rise in time to git
as fer as Bone Gap by sunup. From
the Gap I'll slip down to Pewee Val-
ley. From thar I'll take the fust road
I see a gray hoss on. A gray hoss is
, a sign of luck ef no red-haired woman
air nigh. Then I'll—I'll—"
He slept. Tired was his body, and
easy his couch. The tension was over,
his interest gone. Henceforth he had
but to drift like an autumn leaf be-
fore November's gusts.
slept, therefore; he overslept.
he awoke he blinked in amazement.
The door, which he had carefully clos-
ed, was open, and 2a lusty sun was
flooding the room with light and
warmth.
He rubbed his eyes, but the hallu-
cination only deepened. Over a cheer-
ful fire a bubbling pot hung from the
crane.
Jude, but bigger, played on the floor.
Nance was sitting
which he had once made for her on a
| rainy day, with only a draw-knife, a
saw, and an auger for tools, and with-
It was her favorite
chair, and she was in her favorite at-
titude. With elbows upon knees, she
smiled at him in quite her old way.
“You've had a quite smart of a nap,
honey,” said she.
“What time is it?” he demanded,
vacantly.
“Nigh on to airly dinner-time.” She
laughed a little with suppressed ex-
citement at his bewilderment, and
approached his bed. The shine in her
eyes was unearthly bright, and he
shrank a little. “I reckon you ain’t
got the sleep outen your eyes yet,”
she continued. “What did you think
when you come home last night and
didn’t find me hyer?”
He stared at her intently and sus-
piciously. “Nance, air that you a-
talkin’, or air it your sperit?”
“It’s me, Ash.”
“Lemme feel your hand.”
She slipped it into Lis. “Don’t you
see it’s me!” she excleimed, playfui-
ly. But her smiling face suddenly
crinkled under a different emotion, and
with a quick, sharp ery she flung her-
self upon him. “My pore boy, you're
so thin!”
How long she remained there, with- |
out speech, clinging to his neck, he,
> > a a { dent, provision for amendments to the
never knew. But at last she sat up
and wiped her eyes.
“You broke jail, honey ?” she asked,
anxiously.
“No. Payrolled out fer good be-
havior. They give me a suit of
clothes, a railroad ticket to Pardee-
ville, and a five-dollar greenback.” He
paused. What had brought her to the
cabin he could not guess. He only
knew that his treacherous sleep had
betrayed him into her hands.
“Not that suit you got on.”
“No.” He paused again. There
seemed no way of threading the maze
except with the guiding lamp of
truth. “Nance, I didn’t come back last
night. I come back two months ago.
I heerd you were goin’ to marry Rufe
Couch. I heerd it from your lips and
, his’n, layin’ by the spring, where I'd
i sneaked down to see you alone if I
could. Looked to me like it war the
best thing fer both you and the boy,
and I decided to clear out and never
disturb you no more. I waited to
make sure thar’d be no slip, and I war
goin’ away last night, but that ovexr-
powerin’ sleep ketehed me like a wea-
sel in a trap. I'll go tonight. No-
body but you knows I'm hayer.”
“Nobody but me!” The old drollery
came into her blue-black eyes. “Go,
sugar-pie, and when you're tired of
wanderin,’ make sure I'm right hyer
waitin’ fer you.”
“But little Jude thar—his eddica-
tion!” he faltered.
“Listen, Ash! Last night I never
slept except once, and that little Jude
there come to me in a dream; but he
was a grown man, just back from
school, and locked so fine and hand-
some. But instead of kissin’ me he
frowned and said: ‘Nance Whipple—
fer that’s yer name—I've found my
daddy. He was cold and hungry and
dirty, and he said to me, “Jude, your
mommy sold her soul fer 2 painted
house and an ar’n stove.”’ Ash, I
knew then I could never marry Rufe
Couch. I got right up and called mom-
my, and before sunup I was riding
hyerwards, with Jude on one arm and
a basket that mommy had packed fer
me on the other. I weren’t going to
give dad a chance to turn me out.
And when I seen you layin’ on that
bed, I knew that dream had been sent
to me.”
As feels a shipwrecked salior whe
has long breasted wind and wave and
finds sudden safety and repose on an
unsuspected isle, so felt Ash Whipple
as he sat with Jude in his arms and
watched Nance set the table. But at
last he broke the spell of contented si-
lence.
“Nance, I mought ride over to the
Run and engage the pa’son when he
comes, and go on down to Holly Tree
fer a marriage license, and you and
me be tied up ag’in tonight. Sich of
your relaytives as want to come air
welcome; sich as don’t kin face t’other
way.”
“Just as you please, Ash. No hur-
ry so fer’s I'm concerned. My sleep
won’t be no less sound tonight, mer-
ridge or no merridge,” said Nance,
sturdily, as she skilfully swung out
the crane. “I never did feel as if that
divorce unmarried me, and I'm think-
in’ in the eyes of God it didn’t, no
matter what the mounting might
say.”—By Elmore Elliott Peake, in
Harper’s Monthly Magazine.
Mechanics.
Clerk (selling modern lead pencil):
Then you unscrew this cap, take out
the small unused leads, put new leads
in each slot, press down firmly until
they meet grip of inside thread, then
put in case, slide down flush with
point, screw on top, and the pencil is
ready to write. As simple as A B C!
Young Lady (doubtfully): Is it as
bord as learning to drive an automo-
ile ?
Why Called Epsom Salts.
The name Epsom salts is derived
from the sulphate of magnesia
Springs in Epsom, : in Surrey, Eng-
and.
ee
——Subseribe for the “Watchman.”
He not only
When !
A child, like his own little
in a rude rocker
LESSONS IN CITIZENSHIP.
SOCIALIST PARTY PLATFORM.
Give an outline of the Socialist plat-
form adopted in 1916.
Answer: The Socialist platform
stated:
“The Socialist party calls upon the
working class to take a determined
stand on the question of militarism
and war, and to embrace the opportu-
nity furnished them by the great war
to force disarmament, and thus furth-
er the cause of industrial freedom.”
It further states, “Socialism admits
the private ownership and individual
direction of all things, tools, economic
processes and functions, which are in-
dividualistic in character; but requires
the collective ownership and demo-
cratic control and direction of those
things that are social or collectivistic
in character.”
The platform
peace measures:
“That all laws and appropriations
for the increase of the military and
naval forces of the United States be
immediately repealed,” that the pow-
er of fixing all foreign pelicies and
conducting diplomatic negotiations be
lodged in Congress, which should act
publicly in all such matters; they also
declared that the people of the coun-
try should be able to order Congress,
by a referendum vote at any time, to
change its policy.
That no war be declared or waged,
at any time, without a referenduin
vote of the entire people, except for
the purpose of repelling invasion.
Th2 abandonment of the Monroz
Doctrine, immediate self-government
for the Philippine Islands, the calling
of a Congress of 2ll neutral nations
by our Government, to mediate for a
lasting peace, and to arrange for an
International Congress, with power to
adjust disputes between nations, and
to guarantee equal rights to all op-
pressed nations and races.
The political demands in their plat-
form were equal suffrage for men and
women, the adoption of the Susan B.
recommended as
Anthony Amendment, the initiative,
referendum and recall and proportion-
al representation, national and local;
| the election of the President and Vice-
| President by the direct vote of the
| people, abolition of the United States
Senate and veto power of the Presi-
National Constitution to be passed by
a majority of the voters, a convention
to revise the National Constitution;
they would also abolish the power of
the Supreme Court to pzss upon the
Constitutionality of legislation enact-
ed by Congress, having the only re-
peal of such legislaticn to be by Con-
gress itself, or referendum vote of the
whole people.
They would also take from the
courts the power to issue injunctions.
They declared themselves in favor
of the election of judges for short
terms, free administration of the law,
suffrage for the District of Columbia,
| with representation in Congress and a
i democratic form of municipal govern-
ment to all United States territory.
Freedom of the press, speech and
assemblage, increase of income and
corporation taxes and extension of in-
heritance tax, general educational
measures and vocational education,
health measures, abolition of monopo-
ly ownership of patents in favor of
collective ownership with direct roy-
alty rewards to inventors.
There were also a number of indus-
trial demands: —A shortened work
day, freedom of political and econom-
ic organization and activities, a rest
period of not less than a day and a
half each week; more effective inspec-
tion of work shops, factories and
mines. They also demanded legisla-
tion forbidding the employment of all
under eighteen yeavs, and preventing
the transportation bctween States of
child labor products, or the products
of any uninspected factory or mine.
They also demanded legislation pro-
viidng a minimum wage scale, old age
pensions, mothers’ pensions, State in-
surance against unemployment and
sickness, compulsory insurance by em-
ployers of their workers, without cost :
to the latter, against industrial dis-
eases, accidents and death.
LESSON IX.
Taxation.
How are the vast expenses of the
showmen, saloon-keepers and others.
The license tax resembles the fran-
chise tax.
10th. Fees and special assessments
collected as a partial payment for
services rendered by the government.
The charge for issuing a marriage
certificate is an example of a fee,
while a charge made for connecting
a private drain with a public sewer is
an example of a special assesment.
We hear often of people who believe
in a single tax. What does this
mean?
Answer: The single tax is a very
radical reform proposed. By it all Fed-
eral, State and local taxes would be
raised from a single tax placed upon
the land.
What is the underiying principle of
the single tax?
Answer: According to the theory
of those who favor the single tax, per-
sons should contribute to the support
of the government not in proportion
to what they produce or accumulate,
but in proportion to the value of the
natural opportunities they hold, and
they contend that the land holder is
the great monopolist of natural op-
portunities.
How would such a tax be levied?
Answer:
the improvements made upon the land
—for example: The tax upon a va-
cant lot, provided it were as favorably !
located, would be as heavy as the tax
upon a similar lot improved by a mag-
nificent structure.
Why are taxes necessarly high in
the United States?
Answer: We have studied some-
thing of the enormous expenditures
of our Federal, State and city govern-
ments; the Federal government with
its army and navy, courts of law, high
officials and thousands upon thousands
of employees; the State governments
with their numerous departments; the
local governments with their school
systems, charitable institutions, high-
ways, improvements, police, firemen
and sanitary service.
What is the estimated expenditure
of government in all the cities, States
and territories during the year pre-
ceding the great war?
Answer: $1,750,000,000 (one bil-
lion, seven hundred and fifty million).
What was the average yearly ex-
penditures of the Federal government
before the war?
Answer: $1,250,000,000 (one bil-
lion, two hundred and fifty million).
Can you tell what proportion this
three billion of dollars bears to the
combined annual earnings of every
man, woman and child in the United
States ?
Answer: Yes, this three billion of
dollars is about one-twelfth of the
combined earnings of every man,
woman and child in the country, show-
ing that the people of the United
State contribute every year about as
much as they make in a month.
Should people feel displeased at the
necessity of paying taxes to their gov-
ernment ?
Answer: No, if people have faith
in their government and are anxious
for it to prosper, they should no more
complain of paying their lawful tax-
es than they should complain of pay-
ing the bills incurred for the upkeep
of their own homes.
Do the majority of the people feel
thus about the payment of taxes?
Answer: Unfortunately, no, for
many reasons—some are ignorant and
do not appreciate how necessary it is
for their country, State and city to
have the neccesary fund to carry on
the progressive reforms demanded in
these days.
Is there any other reason for a lack
of proper spirit in the payment of
taxes?
Yes,
Answer:
very indifferent,
many people are
and do not take
: The single tax would be
laid upon land as such, and not upon |
somo,
| FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
DAILY THOUGHT.
“The best portion of a good man’s life.
His little, nameless, unremembered acts
Of kindness and of love.”
There seems to be a decided tend-
ency this holiday season toward the
buying of sensible gifts—that is,
things that will be useful. Now, you
well know that no woman ever had
enough blouses, so if you are looking
for a gift for your mother, sister or
dearest friend—you are certain to
please her if you select a blouse.
One seldom errs in choosing some
small article of mahogany for Christ-
mas giving, for most of us can find 2
use for articles of this most decorative
of woods. A pair of candlesticks
makes a most acceptable gift. One
can always find a place for another
pair of condlesticks. Then there are
trays, variously shaped—a gift which
the woman who entertains a bit will
appreciate. Any man who smokes
would appreciate a humidor of mahog-
any or a smoking stand or an ash
tray. These are but a few sugges-
i tions.
A trim sports suit, a jaunty hat,
| woolen stockings and brogues, a silk
scarf to give the bright touch of col-
i or and voila! one has achieved the per-
fect sports costume. A scarf of
green with gold-color stripes would be
stunning with a green or brown suit.
The brown-and-tan striped scarfs look
very well on brown or blue. You'll
‘not have any trouble in selecting a
! scarf that will harmonize perfectly
| with your costume, for there is a
great variety of colors in the collec-
ition. I can’t resist reminding you
| that an allswhite muffler for wear in
| the evening makes a most acceptable
Christmas gift for a man.
Silk stockings cost so much these
| days that the care of them should be
| very carefully studied by everyone
| Who feels that they must wear them
tevery day to be well dressed. Their
| life can be prolonged a hundredfold
| with care and thought. In the first
| place it is better to buy two or three
| at one time, all alike. Wear them in
| rotation, washing them out each even-
{ing and drying them carefully in a
i cool, dark place. Then, when, as
{ sometimes happens, a run starts in
one of them and goes the entire
| length before you are able to stop it
and the stocking is absolutely ruined,
it doesn’t mean that you have to dis-
i card the perfect one. Use one of the
' others with it. When one of this pair
| wears out take the mate to that one
{ and you will find that they last really
mucu longer.
Don’t wait till a hole comes in the
| stocking before mending it. Be on the
| lookout for thin places and darn them
carefully with silk that matches as
: near as possible. Save the stocking
with the run and use ravellings from
it if you can. Instead of sewing up a
tun in a stocking take a small steel
crochet hook and catch up the threads
as you would in crochet work.
Did you ever notice at sales of
stockings what beautiful quality you
could get in the unusual colors that
wouldn’t possibly match anything you
had? You wished that you had some-
thing that would go with them, but as
you hadn’t you tried to content your-
self by buying a pair of black ones
that were very much thinner and in-
ferior. Don’t do this. Buy the color-
ed ones and color them black, brown
or blue with the harmless vegetable
dyes that are on the market today.
i When they finally do wear out be-
yond repair, cut off the feet, rip up the
back and put away in your piece bag
until needed. They make perfect
dusters and polishers for mahogany
furniture. :
enough interest in their government to ;
, know the necessity for these vast ex-
' penditures; and again, there is a feel-
ing of distrust toward many of the of-
ficials who handle the public money.
i Is there any class who try to evade
. the payment of taxes?
Answer: Yes, there are many dis-
' honest people who always try to avoid
meeting their just obligations.
i What step on the part of our Fed-
i eral Government would inspire more
i confidence in the expenditures of the
! officials ?
| Answer: If the National Govern-
| The semi-annual meeting of the Na-
, tional Cloak, Suit and Skirt Manufac-
| turers’ Association was attended by
more than 300 delegates who discuss-
: ed the new fashions for spring as dis-
played by living models at the style
i show last week.
No very radical changes are shown
i from the lines of fall and winter gar-
ments. Skirts continue short and
i straight. The slender silhouette pre-
' dominates and the youthful spirit was
' expressed in many garments shown.
i “Individuality is the keynote of ear-
city, State and National Government | ment would create an annual budget | ly spring apparel,” said Philip Frank-
defrayed ?
Answer: The expenses are defray-
ed by means of taxation which is lev-
ied by the law making body of the
city, State or Nation.
Is this taxation a voluntary contri-
bution?
there would be more of a feeling that
! our officials were spending the public
! funds wisely.
|
i
!
Find Use for Waste Apples.
i Thousands of inferior apples of in-
: el, executive secretary of the associa-
{ tion. “Every woman will have oppor-
| tunity to express her own personality
| through selection of the variety of
i models offered by the manufacturers
| for 1921,”
i Skirts are short with a suggestion
Answer: It is not; once the Legis- ferior market grades, which now go to | of more fullness in some cases with
lature passes a tax it is compulsory.
Upon what are taxes levied?
Answer: Taxes are levied upon
persons, property and incomes.
How many different kinds of taxes
are there?
Answer: There are ten different
kinds of taxes, as follows:
1st. The general property tax, lev-
ied on lands and buildings erected on
land, and on personal property, which
includes furniture, money, goods,
bonds, stocks, mortgags, jewelry,
horses, carriages, automobiles and
farming implements.
2nd. The income tax levied upon
all incomes whether received from
wages, salary, profits from business
or investments.
3rd. The inheritance tax, levied
upon all property acquired by inher-
itance or will.
4th. Corporation tax levied upon
the capital stock of the corporation,
and corporations also pay a tax in the
form of income tax levied upon the
corporation as in the case of an indi-
vidual.
5th. The franchise tax levied for
a privilege granted by government, as
for instance, when a city council con-
fers upon a corporation the right to
operate trolleys upon certain streets.
6th. The poll tax levied as a per-
sonal tax, ranging in income from 50
cents to $4.00 in various States.
7th. Custom duties levied upon ar-
ticles imported from foreign coun-
tries.
8th. Excises or internal revenue
taxes, levied upon goods manufactur-
ed within the country. These will be
collected now upon tobacco, oleomar-
garine and playing cards.
9th. License taxes, collected from
merchants, peddlers, hack-drivers,
| waste in the orchards, will soon be-
i come the basis of a new and import-
i ant industry, according to Burling- |
| ton county, New Jersey fruit growers,
! who have been studying apple syrup
manufacture in Oregon. Rivaling
maple syrup in deliciousness, the syr-
up is said to be assured of a great
commercial future.
The syrup is made without the ad-
dition of sugar. The acid taste, which
has heretofore interfered with efforts
to produce a satisfactory commercial
product, is eliminated by chemical
means. The syrup is then clarified,
but retains its pleasing apple flavor.
About eight gallons of cider are re-
duced in the process to one gallon of
syrup.
——————— ese.
Not Bad Cook But Bad Stomach.
The word dyspepsia means literally bad
cook, but it will not be fair for many peo-
ple to lay the blame on the cook if they
begin the Christmas dinner with little ap-
petite and end it with distress or nausea.
It may not be fair for any to do that—
let us hope so for the sake of the cook!
The disease, dyspepsia, indicates a bad
stomach, that is a weak stomach, rather
than a bad cook, and for a weak stomach
we know of nothing else equal to Hood's
Sarsaparilla. This digestive and tonic
medicine helps the stomach, gives it vigor
and tone, and relieves dyspepsia, creates
an appetite, and makes eating the pleas-
ure it should be.
The biliousness and constipation found
in so many cases of dyspepsia are gently
and thoroughly relieved by Hood’s Pills,
which aet in perfect harmony with Hood's
Sarsaparilla. 65-49
“Watchman.”
i houses.
—If you want all the news you packground as a uniform for a kaleid-
'can get it in the
| panels, tunics, hem trimmings and
| pleatings.
| Wrappy coats and capes will be
{ generally worn, slender shoulders
| marking both in soft and delicate fab-
| ries.
| Trimmings include beading and
| braiding, picot edgings and a new flat
| floss embroidery.
|
The straw sailors with bright-col-
j ored bands are very good-looking, and
cherry-colored sailors are to be very
much worn, they say. Silk sweaters
iin tuxedo or slipover style come in
brown, navy blue and white. To wear
! with them are dimity shirts with col-
| lars edged with plaited frills. Sports
skirts are trimly tailored.
One is offered few tunics in the new
frocks, although the idea has influ-
enced the building of comfortable
frocks which, being sleeveless, are
slipped over straight slips of another
fabric. Yet the tunic in its original
state, sleeveless, knee length, orna-
mented, remains in good repute.
It is used in combination with the
trousered skirt, which was catapult-
ed back into fashion through the clev-
er and artistic use made of it in the
uniform worn by the manikins who
exhibited the seasonal hats for the
milliners’ fashion parade in New
York on the roof of the Century Thea-
tre.
These black satin frocks with their
Algerian hem and flowing Arabian
sleeves, which dropped away from the
shoulder to be caught again by the
wrist, were designed and fashioned by
one of the distinctive Fifth avenue
They made an admirable
‘ oscope of colored hats.