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.