SSR RR PRT Bemorralic atcha, — Bellefonte, Pa., June 30, 1922. EET BS. ‘SHOULD BE LITERARY SHRINE Room in London Where Rudyard | Kipling, Thirty Years Ago, Wrote ; “The Light That Failed.” Thirty years make few changes in a London street, and Villiers street run- ning down to the Thames past the smoke-smudged walls of Charing Cross railway station is much the same as when Rudyard Kipling lived in Number 19, the Embankment cham- bers, and struggled for recognition from the London editors, says Arthur Bartlett Maurice in “Literary Pilgrim- ages” in the New York Herald. The third-floor rooms in the Em- bankment chambers where Kipling worked in his early twenties are the scene of nearly all the stories with a London background that he has writ- ten. “For example, ‘The Light That Failed” The rooms shared by Tor- penhow and Dick Heldar were Kip- ling’s own rooms. From the doorway of Neo. 19 poor Dick, stricken with blindness, groped down to the water's edge for the sense of the Thames’ damp and the feel of the ships that wafted to his nostrils the pungent smells of the East. Lying across that doorway, Torpenhow first found Bessie Broke, the little street girl from ‘south ’'o the river,’ who fell in love with him, and revenged herself on Dick for his interference by scrap- ing away the face of the Melancholia. On a table of the Kipling rooms in the Embankment chambers, Charlie Mears, of ‘The Finest Story in the World,” scrawled the words, meaning- less to him, that told of the agony of the galley slave. The very table once had being. Kipling had been burning the midnight oil and generally over- working himself. On the table he had graved the words: ‘Oft was I weary when I toiled at thee’—the motto which the galley slave earved upon his oar.” HAS GRUDGE AGAINST RADIO One Person at Least Who Cannot See Anything in the Latest Pop- ular Amusement. “I’m through with Greenwich Vil- lage for good,” the out-of-towner told her city cousin. “It was false to me in my hour of need. Furthermore, I'm haunted by wireless.” “You don’t say so!” “At home I led a terribly conven- tional life. It was boring, but I man- aged to endure it, My brother is a rather clever talker, you know, and we were the best of pals—until he took up wireless telephony.” “So that’s why you came to town 80 suddenly!” “It is! tinuous discussion of radiophones, PDQ stations, antennae and wot not! But the thing I hated most was my brother’s enchantment with the night- ly radio concerts. Every time we set- tled down for a chat and he promised to reform from his wireless craze, he’d get word that there was a con- cert in Newark and off he’d dash to his wireless telephone.”—New York Times. Under His Hat. The Woman and the man from out of town were theater-bound, and at 8 o'clock both discovered that neither knew the street on which the particu- lar theater was located. “Let’s go to a newsstand and get an evening paper,” suggested the man. “Let’s ask a policeman,” suggested the Woman. “Oh, that looks so out-of-townish,” said the man, but as a big policeman hove into view the man went up to him to get the information. “Lord love you,” said the jovial po- liceman, “I can’t keep all the theaters in my head any more than you can, but I do keep them in my hat.” Then, winking amusedly, he removed said hat, or cap, to be correct, and extract- ed a tiny guide book which revealed, after a turning of numerous pages, the desired address.—Exchange, America's Oldest Bell. In the court house at Barnstable, Mass., is an old bell, cracked and si- lent, which may be, and probably is, the oldest bell in the United States. So thinks Alfred Crocker of Barn- ‘stabl2 county. The date 1675 is still plainly visible in a photograph recentW printed. By ithis date, however, the old bell had 'seen nearly a quarter of a century of life in England before it came to America and began calling worship- ers together in the church at Sandwich Town. Gratitude bought the bell in Eng- land, for it came as a gift from Mrs. Peter Adolph, whose husband, Cap- tain Adolph, was lost in the wreck of his vessel on the Massachusetts coast in 1697 despite the efforts of the peo- ple of Sandwich.—Boston Transcript. Travel Lore. : The Woman Who Sees had spring longings for a sea trip as she passed a department gay with travel litera- ture, A bright-looking boy was temporar- fly in charge, “Have you a booklet that outlines a trip including Jama- ica?’ the Woman asked. He looked helplessly about and said, “Jamaica? Where's Jamaica, lady? The only one I know is Jamaica ginger.”—Ex- change. ——The “Watchman” gives all the news while it is news. My life was just one con- | Onm— COPYRIGHT BY WESTIN MEWIPAPER UNION sommes A vi il 4 ern GOOD-BYE SPRING “Good-bye, Spring, I must be going,” said the blue Hepatica flower. “Good-bye, dear little Hepatica,” said the Spring. Now the Spring was dressed in all her best. Oh, she was most gorgeous. She wore a cap of beautiful olive green leaves, so fresh and pretty and new, and her hat was of many Spring flowers. It was a lovely hat. Her skirt was of soft green moss with new ferns decorating it, such dear little delicate ferns. Her shoes were of green moss and her shoe laces were of lovely tall green grasses. Her waist was of spring blossoms and was so pretty, and had sprinkled over her a perfume which all of the spring flowers and shrubs and trees and grass had given to her as a gift from all of them. “I hate to see you go,” said Spring, “but I know you must be on your way. This is the time for you to finish your blossoming or flowering.” “Yes,” said the blue Hepatica flower, “I have been about really ever since December. I was under the snow, you know, and my fuzzy stem kept “l Must Follow You.” me warm just as people will wrap their furs about their necks to keep themselves warm. “And though I was but a bud I kept warm and the snow protected me too.” “Some of your family have different names,” said Spring, “but I like to call you Hepatica best.” “It is my favorite name of all 1 have,” said the blue Hepatica flower. “Sometimes we're called Liverwort, and sometimes we're called Squirrel Cups, and sometimes we're just known as Hepaticas, which is my favorite name as I've said. A “Some of us wear blue and some of us wear lavender. Some of us wear white, ard some of us wear pale pinks, and some of us have a different style of grouping ourselves together. We don’t dress just the same, and we don’t care if we're all in Hepatica style. “By that I mean we don’t care if we all do just as the other does. Real Hepatica style, among the Hepatica flowers, means to dress differently and as we please and to look as lovely as each one of us can. “That is what we try to do.” “And that is what you really do,” said Spring. “Thank you, dear Spring,” said the Blue Hepatica. “Some of us wear perfume and some anyway,” when they would not be al- | none the worse for the adventure. of us don’t,” said the blue Hepatica. “There is no special rule about that either. “It doesn’t make any difference whether we wear blue, or pink, or white, or lavender, whether we add perfume or not. It is just as our own little group feels like doing. “But the same family wears per- fume year after year. “You see my mother plant wore perfume and I thought it was so lovely that I wanted to wear it too. That is always the way with the Hepatica flowers. “We do what our mothers have done, and if they have used perfume, so do we. It is natural that we should for we like our mothers’ perfume, and we wanted to have some of it when we grew up! “Yes. dear Spring, I must go.” “And before long I must follow you,” said Spring. “Summer is coming along you know.” “But,” said the blue Hepatica, lift- ing its little star-like petals up and gazing at Spring, “I'll come and see you again next year if you want me.” “Darling little blue Hepatica, Spring wouldn't be happy if you didn’t come to the edges of the woods to smile at her and to say: “Here I am, dear Spring.’ Spring really wouldn’t be Spring without you.” “Blue Hepatica will open her eyes to greet you next year, Spring. Good-bye, dear Spring. Good-bye, lovely world, all dressed in your mew clothes.” And the warmer breezes of sum- mer came along and whispered: “Blue Hepatica was right, Good-bye Spring!” A Rare Guess. Professor to Student—Mr. Blank, tell us something of the occurrence of calcium carbonate in nature. Student (unprepared)—Well, sir, it —~it is very rare— Professor—Very good, sir, for a guess. But you failed to mention that the Appalachian mountains are com- posed quite largely of this rare sub stance.—Science and Invention. CORNS AND BUNIONS. By L. A. Miller. Being the possessor of corns or bun- ions means that your sufferings are beyond computation. And the ones so afflicted surely have the sympathy of the writer; he has been there and knows what he is talking about. Not one fashionable young lady out of a hundred has the courage to go on the street with a pair of broad-heeled, flexible-soled shoes. They prefer to go crippling along like a boy with a stone bruise, suffering at every step. Some say they experience no discom- fort or inconvenience in wearing fashionable shoes. This may be true, but it is probably because they have never experienced the convenience and comfort afforded by such as those worn by their mothers. If young la- dies could only realize how much a and amiability, they would certainly give this article of dress more atten- tion. Just take your own case. What is more disagreeable, annoying and irri- tating than an angry corn, an ingrow- ig nail, a bunion or general tender- ness of the feet? How often does one all the pleasures of the opera or make you as cross as a bear with a sore head? You can recall the frequency with which you swear, or have sworn, under your breath as you walk the streets, and how much better and more amiable you feel when you get rid of your alleged comfortable foot gear and your feet stowed away in an old pair of shoes or roomy slippers! Of course, you know all this, and more too, perhaps, yet it does no harm to recall familiar facts occasionally. Did you ever see an individual who could appear truly amiable while suf- fering with neuralgia or tooth-ache? Of course not, it is not to be expected, because it would be contrary to na- ture. The face is the mirror in which the feelings are reflected, whether of pleasure or displeasure, comfort or discomfort, joy or sorrow. Suffering whether mental or physical, is always seen in the face, and often uncon- sciously to the sufferer. Care may be taken to hide it with powder or paint, or dispel it with a forced smile, yet it shows plainly enough to be noticed by strangers as well as by acquaintances. Not only does it show in facial expres- sion, but in manners and disposition. An individual cannot be as pleasant and agreeable when suffering pain, be it ever so slight, as when enjoying perfect physical comfort. Are corns and bunions painful? If so, the dis- comfort they cause must be reflected in the face, and shown in the disposi- tion. You may strive ever so hard to appear bright and happy, when your i corns are at their best, but you cannot i keep the furtive frown from settling {on your brow. { of you, your mind wanders from the , conversation to your feet, the thread | of the story is lost and your sighs and | uneasy movements are liable to be ! ! construed by your company into a hint : to £0. - : There is no doubt whatever that many a good match has been broken | off by corns and bunions. Cupid has ‘none, and sems to have no sympathy . with those who have. One real lively i corn will drive all the love and sweet- | ness out of the best hearted individu- : ‘al alive, shroud a sweet face with a! i stern mask and convert an angel in- | to a virago. i dyspeptic cannot be a christian be- | cause he is incapable of solemn refiec- ‘tion. If there is no salvation for the | dyspeptic, what will come of the pos- | sessor of corns and bunions ? Dyspeptics have solemn spells, but i such is not the good fortune of the | corn raiser. He frequently has fits of ! profanity, and may occasionally grow | tired of the world and of life in gen- | eral, but never feels solemn and re- { signed. A painful corn is always re- | garded as a sufficient excuse for in- i dulging in mild profanity. Even tlie i ladies are permitted to “darn” a corn, i TT ee =——— FOR l) Lae Ra Exact Copy of Wrapper. comfortable shoe adds to good looks" of these spoil a good sermon, destroy | It will come in spite It has been said that a ! RNP X GASTORIA Mothers Know That lowed to “darn” Preachers have been heard to say that the tener of their sermons is some- times so changed by the little moni- tors upon their toes, that instead of dwelling upon the painless lives of the saved they do up the sufferings of the other fellows in a most realistic manner. For a moment think of it. There is no end of mischief that may be done by a corn. It robs a fair face of beauty. It en- courages profanity. Sours sweet tem- pers; destroys domestic: bliss; mars the beauty of the opera; makes church going people undesirable; interferes with Cupid’s operations; changes the tener of sermons; snarls the disposi- tion of teachers; makes walking a painful exercise; supports street rail- way monopolies; converts angels into viragos; fills the community with growlers; develops bachelors; throngs the earth with old maids; spoils the beautiful in nature; darkens the fire- side; creates ill-feeling in a crowd; destroys the interest in poker; keeps the mind in unrest, and renders life a burden. There are many more ills that may be charged to corns and bun- ions, but they will readily suggest ; themselves to the sufferers. Why do people have corns? Because they wear ill-fitting shoes. Some contend that they are the product of tight j shoes. This is not correct. They are | caused by the rubbing of leather | against the foot, not by close fitting. i The two combined produce the finest specimens. A very close fitting shoe may be worn providing it is the exact shape of the foot. Owing to the great difference in the shape of feet it is impossible for every one to wear the same style of shoe. The majority of shoemakers seem to be ignorant of this fact, and make the shoe to fit the last instead of the foot. Corns have to be raised; they will not come voluntarily; and when they do come they must be cultivated or they will go away. They do not care for exterminators so long as you insist upon their company. They are real good about staying. Heap on me, heavier, the hate of all man- kind, Load me with malice, envy, detestation; Let me be horrid to all apprehension, And the world shun me, so I but ‘scape scorn.— Lee, JACKSONVILLE. George Hoy and family, of Howard, were callers at the Luther Fisher home on Sunday. Miss Clara Butler, of Howard, has ' been visiting friends and relatives in this vicinity the past week. Mr, and Mrs. Hewitt Confer, with their daughter Ruby and some friends, all of Howard, were pleasant visitors , in this section on Sunday. Mr. and Mrs. Brungard visited this . week at the home of ther daughter, ‘Mrs. W. E. Weight, and also with the family of George Rodgers. Many people from this vicinity at- tended the festival at Howard on Sat- ‘urday night and report a most enjoy- able time. A festival will be held at Marion tomorrow night and every- body is invited. Mrs. Clyde Yearick spent Monday at Unionville picking cherries at: the home of her sister, Mrs. Brower. During her absence the Leon Mon- | teith family looked after her poultry { and other household affairs. Harry Hoy had a unique though ex- citing experience last Thursday. His “bees swarmed and the queen alighted ion the first point of vantage she | reached, which proved to be Mr. Hoy’s ‘hat. Of course the entire swarm fol- | lowed suit and it was only a matter | of seconds until he was covered with | bees. But he was equal to the emer- | gency. He quietly removed his hat and laid it on the ground then just as quietly moved away and the bees all left him and congregated on the hat. : Mr. Hoy did not receive a single sting, i hived the bees successfully and is For Infants and Children. Genuine Castoria Th ®- Ir ty Years GASTORIA THE CENTAUR COMPANY, NEW YORK CITY. 1 anything else. 1 adies Pumps and Oxfords AT Five Cents per Pair Sh 0 We have placed on tables every pairiof La- Ic dies High Heel Pumps and Oxfords, white, | 2h black, tan, and patent leathers. These shoes rc are of the very best quality, but{for the reas- i on of high heels we have reduced the price Ic to $1.95 a pair and an Extra Pair for on 5cts., or in other words you get two pair of the best shoes made for $2. ] T= i =i | Uc ; 1 we Ie We have good sizes and widths in the blacks a os dh : Sh as and tans and all sizes in the white. r= SHES] + He oh i Ic LG 1 =] ic 9 Ic 2 Yeager's Shoe Store g@ US ] 7d THE SHOE STORE FOR THE POOR MAN i i gy i Bush Arcade Building 58-27 BELLEFONTE, PA. ol I] i oh RR Come to the “Watchman” office for High Class Job work. hoi ke m——— Lyon & Co. Lyon & Co." Authentic styles fashioned from approved fabrics; delightful variety; savings in the prices, is the slogan in this store. Cool, lovely woven tissues and colored ba- tiste, all colors, 36 inches wide, only S50c. Flaxons, the linen fiinished in white and all colors, from 40c¢. up. CORSETS Just opened a big line of new models in Summer Corsets---Roval Worcester and Bon Ton. medium, and large woman. Graduate corsetiere to fit the slender, ae m— LT Swimming Suits We can fit boys, girls and women; from 75c. to $3.50. Lyon & Co. « Lyon & Co.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers