am,
————— A ————————— cu ————— -
Bellefonte, Pa., December 1, 1922,
A —
THE ROSE STILL GROWS BE-
YOND THE WALL.
By A. L. Frink.
Near shady wall a rose once grew,
Budded and blossomed in God’s free
light,
‘Watered and fed by morning dew,
Shedding its sweetness day and night.
As it grew and blossomed fair and tall,
Slowly rising to loftier height,
It came to a crevice in the wall,
Through which there shone a bead of
light.
Onward it crept with added strength,
‘With never a thought of fear or pride
It followed the light through the crevice's
length
And unfolded itself on the other side.
The light, the dew, the broadening view
Were found the same as they were be-
fore;
And it lost itself in beauties new,
Breathing its fragrance more and more.
Shall claim of death cause us to grieve,
And make our courage faint or fall?
Nay! Let us faith and hope receive;
The rose still grows beyond the wall.
Scattering fragrance far and wide,
Just as it did in days of yore,
Just as it did on the other side,
Just as it will for evermore.
“ALGY MET A BEAR.”
“Beautiful!” exclaimed Blaine, ad-
miringly. “He runs like a Mercury!”
Coach Bradley, standing watch in
hand, shook his head and sighed.
At that moment the runner dashed
across the white line that marked the
quarter-mile on the track. His mo-
mentum carried him a few yards far-
ther down the track, and then he wav-
ed his hand at the coach, and turned
across the athletic field toward the
gymnasium.
“Wright’s form is good,” admitted
the coach to the student, who had
come down to watch track practice.
“Any chance for him in the Brigh-
ton meet?” asked Blaine interestedly.
The coach looked doubtful. “He
ought to be the best half-mile man in
the State. It’s that temper of his. I
never can count on him in a race. He
will go through his practice here on
the field perfectly for a week and then
spoil it all by losing his head in the
big race. I'd like him to run against
Brighton, but I can’t trust him.”
“I know,” sympathized Blaine.
“His temper is a joke among the fel-
lows. They tease him just to see him
fly to pieces.”
Algernon Wright in the gymnasium
was feeling the exhileration that a
shower bath brings after brisk exer-
cise in the spring sunshine. He was
pleased with the promise of the track
meets that were to come, for he knew
that he was in good condition and that
his running form was getting so that
he could depend upon it. “Now if
Coach Bradley only gives me a
chance,” he thought, “I can do some-
thing in the races this year. And
maybe we can clean up on old Brigh-
ton. Griffin's got to be beaten,” he
growled, an angry flush rising to his
cheeks. “I’ll beat him, yet, if I don’t
do another thing in college.”
As he dressed the memory of the
last Alton-Brighton track meet—the
big track event of the season came
back to him. It was a thing he did
not particularly like to remember, for
there was a certain unpleasantness
about it that had effected him espe-
cially. He had started to the meet on
that day in high spirits. He was in
the pink of condition and he was sure
he could win his special race, the half-
mile. At the start, he drew the inside
position. At the crack of the pistol
he leaped into the lead, a good pace in
front of all the rest. He kept his po-
sition until half way over the last of
the two laps, conscious of a runner
who was just behind him and who was
vainly trying to pass him. Then he
heard a muttered sentence from the
runner, “Run along out of the way,
my little fellow. This is a man’s
race.”
Surprised and angered at the taunt
—it wasn’t so much the words as the
mocking tone in which they were giv-
en—Algernon Wright glanced back
over his shoulder with a wrathful
“Shut up!” on his lips, thus violating
one of Coach Bradley’s strictest rules.
That made him lose his steady even
stride for a moment. He almost stum-
bled, and in that instant his rival shot
ahead of him.
Now as he remembered it again, the
blood rushed hotly to his head, and it
was in no pleasant frame of mind that
he left the gymnasium and started to-
ward his boarding house. Halfway
across the campus he kicked violent-
ly at a small twig that lay inoffensive-
ly in the path, kicked so violently that
his foot slipped on the turf, and he fell
awkwardly and ingloriously on the
grass. He looked around apprehen-
sively.
“Little Algy gets back to nature,”
sang out the irrepressible Jinks, a
Freshman whose exuberant spirits
earned him the nickname of “Hi.”
“Say,” exploded Wright, his wrath
fairly lifting him to his feet, “cut out
that Algy stuff, will you? Somebody
ought to teach Freshmen better man-
ners, and I’m about ready to do the
work, at least as far as one Freshman
is concerned!”
“Oh, calm yourself,” soothed Jinks,
“Your anger may be ‘Wrightchus’ but
it isn’t becoming. Now if you’ll be
good I'll repeat a touching little poem
I found today, just for you:
‘“‘Algy met a bear;
The bear met Algy.
The bear grew bulgy.
The bulge was Algy.’”
he chanted, watching his victim's dis-
comfort with obvious satisfaction.
“Only in this case, Algy met the
ground,” chuckled another boy.
“Come on, Al, let ’em have their
fun,” said Blaine, walking over to
Wright and throwing his arm across
the boy’s shoulders. “Don’t you care.
Let’s go to supper.”
Algernon Wright shook his friend’s
arm free, but walked on with him. “I
can’t stand that Jinks fellow,” he
stormed. “It isn’t my fault that my
name is Algernon.”
“Don’t mind him,” urged Blaine.
“You did look comical, you know, the
way your feet flew out from under
you. You went down so—so unani- |
mously.”
“Haven’t you got any respect for a
fellow’s feelings ?”’ Algy grumbled. |
A good dinner and a healthy appe- |
tite will combine to drive away the:
deepest gloom, and before long Wright |
had forgotten his grievance. It was
not until late in the evening, when he |
had come out under the stars to get a *
breath of air before going to bed, that
he remembered the incident again. .
“That Jinks thinks he’s clever,” he
muttered. “He and his jokes and his
rhymes. Fool things! Nothing to |
em. ’Algy met a bear!” Humph!”
Suddenly he chuckled. “That was a |
funny one, though. But I'd never let :
him know I thought it was!” i
Then his sudden and embarrassing |
descent upon the campus came to him. |
Now that it was over, he could review
the event without so much emotion.
He was forced to smile himself as he
thought of the picture he must have
made. Then he grew sober again as
he remembered how he had lost his
temper.
“Looked funnier than ever Blaine
said,” he mused. “I wonder if I did.
I never thought of that.” He thought
carefully, and tried to remember ex-
actly how he had acted. “I'll bet I
made a fool of myself,” he reflected.
He started as a thought new to him
came into his mind.
“‘Algy met a bear. He grinued, '
and then exclaimed, “H’m, that is just
exactly what has been happening to
Algy all this time. Come to think of
it, I have a bear of a temper.” He
chuckled at his own witticism. “And
the bear met Algy, and the bear grew
bulgy, and—yes, by George, the bulge
was Algy. It comes out on top—I
mean outside—every time, too. There's |
just one thing to do; I've got to run
from the bear or else tame him.” |
The task of keeping his temper was !
even harder than he had expected, for |
he had never really tried before. From |
the very beginning of the day, when |
the morning after his resolution, he |
energeticaly jumped out of bed and’
just as energetically struck his foot ,
against a carelessly placed chair, it
seemed to him as though temptations
to give way to a burst of anger were
waiting for him everywhere he turn-
ed. It was hard and he was not al-
ways successful, but little by little he
found it easier to exercise control over
himself. When something irritating
happened, he would think to himself:
“Algy met a bear —” and a smile
would cross his face.
And then, one day a week after his |
resolution, he came back to his room, '
which was in a private house near the
campus, to find it “stacked.” In his
absence three or four of his friends
had dropped in to see him. One of
them suggested that it would be a
huge joke on Wright to turn every-
thing upside down, and the others hi-
lariously agreed. So they set to work
\ with an enthusiasm which they had
seldom given to their studies.
When Wright opened his door late
in the afternoon, chaos and confusion
met his eyes. Everything that he
owned was piled in one grand heap
in the center of the room. His furni-
ture formed the foundation of the '
pyramid. He recognized parts of his |
chairs, desk, bureau drawers, and com- |
pletely dismembered bed or various
sections of them that emerged from
the general wreck. Over the whole
thing were spread the contents of his |
desk and bureau, while the top was
crowned with a festoon of neckties’
pinned together. Beneath them a
row of his pictures and pennants en-
circled the heap.
For a few seconds Algernon just
rushed to his face, he drew a long
breath, and opened his mouth. “Algy
met a bear—” He stopped, while a
look of astonishment spread over his
face. That wasn’t at all what he had
meant to say. It was in fact, far from
it. But the habit had already been
fixed so strongly that the words slip-
ped out before he knew it. For a mo-
ment he felt angry again, and then the
incongruity of the words in that par-
ticular situation struck him with full
force, and he sat down and laughed
until the tears rolled down his cheeks.
“I'll say it’s a bear!” he told the world
in general. “And it’s the biggest bear
that Algy ever met,” he concluded,
more soberly.
He fished from the pile the essen-
tials for preparing for supper, and left
the work of reconstruction until he
came back. At supper the guilty
members of the party watched his se-
rene air in amazement. This was not
the Algernon Wright that they knew.
Finally one of them ventured, in tones
of disbelief, “Been home lately, Al?”
“Just came from there,” Wright as-
sured him. “And say, Bud,” he re-
marked, realizing what brought forth
the question, “you and the rest of the
bunch come over with me after sup-
per. I have a little job for you.”
The spring advanced, and as the
weeks went on, the track season drew
to a close. While the subject of the
Alton-Brighton meet occupied the
minds and speech of the students to
the exclusion of all other topics, they
had hardly ceased to comment at in-
tervals upon Algernon Wright's re-
markable action when his room had
been stacked. Many amateur Sher-
lock Holmes’s on the campus were
still trying to find a solution to the
mystery of how it all happened that
way. The most even temper will
break when its owner meets with that
particular experience, and to have
Algernon Wright go through with it
in the way he did was unbelievable.
Coach Bradley noticed his steadying
temper with satisfaction, but with
some doubt as to its permanency.
“How about it, Coach ?”” said Wright
a few days before the meet. “Am I
going to run against Brighton next
Saturday 7”
Bradley regarded him thoughtfully
a moment before he answered.
“Wright, to be perfectly frank with
you, I'm not at all sure that I can let
you run,” he answered finally. “You
know Brighton has a good track team
this year, and we simply have to have
-
. runners.
stood and looked. Then the biood !
every point we can possibly get. Now
you have done well in every track
meet this season, but—if that temper
of yours gets away from you again,
and you lose your head the way you
did last year, we might lose the track
meet.”
Wright turned away, so disappoint-
ed that the tears almost came, but
made no remark.
“Hmm,” said the coach to himself.
“I’ve a notion to let him run after all.”
And so it happened that Wright's
name was on the list of entries for the
half-mile on the Alton-Brighton score
card; and Myers was entered for the
mile. There was a light of happiness
in Algernon’s eyes as he waited for
his turn to come, but there was a
grim set about his jaw, too, that was
good to see.
By the time the half-mile was an-
nounced, the crowd in the grand stand
was in a frenzy of excitement. Al-
most all the events had been staged,
and the score was about even.
The runners drew for places, and
Wright stood third from the pole. Of
the five contestants who entered the
race, Wright and a promising Fresh-
man represented Alton, and the re-
maining three were from Brighton.
It was with a feeling of excitement
that Wright saw that his old enemy,
Griffin, had drawn the second place
from the inside of the track, and so
would start next to him.
A great cheer rose as the runners
took their places on the track. Brigh-
ton and Alton college yells strove for
supremacy, and cries of encourage-
ment were thrown to the individual
But Algernon Wright, in-
dustriously scraping the holes in the
track in which to brace his feet at the
start, was too busy with his own
thoughts even to hear them. A
glance at two of the Brighton athletes
convinced him that he would have to
center his attention only upon the man
beside him. He set about to decide
what the tactics of Griffin would be.
Griffin was murmuring in an annoy-
ing tone, evidently meant for Wright’s
ears, “well, if here isn’t little Algy
again.” (“Wonder how he knows my
name,” thought Wright). “Who let
you in, anyway? Get this Algy:
when I whistle, you turn out and let
me by. Understand? Or else I'll
push my spikes into your heel.”
Algernon Wright decided that one
part of Griffin’s running tactics was
to try to spoil his nerve. He tried to
remember how Griffin had run his race
the year before, what sort of pace
Griffin had, and where he might ex-
pect him to sprint. Griffin felt irritat-
ed. “What’s the matter with you, Al-
gy? Gone to sleep? Wake up and
try to give us a race, anyway, can’t
you?”
“On your marks!” The sharp tones
of the starter broke in upon the mon-
ologue.
“Get set!”
ners tensed.
Crock; The pistol spoke sharply,
and the runners were off.
Wright threw all the power he
could command into that lightning
start. With a thrill of exultation he
knew that he was ahead at the very
beginning, and he ran with all®his
might the forty yards to the first turn
in the quarter-mile track, for he must
be two paces ahead of his closest ri-
val before he could cross in front of
him to the inside of the track. The
turn successfully accomplished, he
settled down to the steady pace he was
to maintain until the last few yards.
He felt some one draw closer and clos-
er until he was just behind his shoul-
der, then keep the position, and al-
though he - was tempted to sprint
enough to draw away from him, he
The muscles of the run-
conquered the impulse and held to his
pace. To the spectators it seemed
that the leader of the race was run-
, ning without the slightest effort, so
| smoothly and quietly and steadily he
. skimmed over the cinders.
Halfway around the second time,
! the man behind Wright spoke, and Al-
gernon knew who it was. “Out of the
way!” panted Griffin. “Remember
what I said. I'll get you and get you
good!”
i This time Algernon Wright did not
look around. Curiously enough now
| that he knew Griffin’s motive, and was
| expecting this very thing, he felt more
amused than angered.
Surprised and chagrined at the un-
| expected failure of his strategy, Grif-
fin’s own face flamed with disappoint-
' ed anger, and he almost lost his stride.
Then, at the sight of Wright’s swiftly
| leaving him in the rear, he desperate-
(ly quickened his pace. Instantly he
realized that he had shortened his
stride in his haste. He tried to
lengthen it, and suddenly was all con-
i fusion. He almost stumbled but as he
| caught his balance the other Alton
{ runner shot past him, crossed the line;
‘and the race was over.
Exhausted, but with a heart full of
' gladness, Algernon Wright lay pant-
jing on the warm grass, while cheer
{ after cheer shook the grand stand.
Presently he picked himself up and
joined the joyful crowd of students
streaming from the field to the cam-
pus.
“Some race!” He heard Jinks voice
just behind him. “That boy certainly
can run. That reminds me,” he drop-
ped his voice, “have you heard this
one?”
“‘Algy met a bear,
The bear met Algy.
The bear grew bulgy—
The bulge was Algy.’”
Wright turned a good-natured grin
on the humorous Jinks. “On the con-
trary,” he remarked amiably, “the
bulge was not Algy.”
Surprised, Jinks looked at him in-
quiringly.
Algernon Wright only smiled.—The
Boys’ World.
——Gannet Peak, the highest moun-
tain in Wyoming was scaled for the
first time by A. C. Tate, of Stamford,
Conn., member of the American Al-
pine club, and Floyd Stalnaker, of Du-
bois, Wyoming. The peak has an al-
titude of 13,785 feet and contains what
is claimed by many scientists to be
the largest glacier in the United
States. According to the climbers, the
ascent was made laboriously up a nar-
row ribbon of ice in which it was nec-
essary to cut steps to get a foothold.
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
DAILY THOUGHT.
Every one of us, whatever our specula-
tive opinions, knows better than he prac-
tices, and recognizes a better law than he
obeys.—Froude.
There is frequently a feeling that
much is to be gained by waiting until
a little later, when one hopes, wraps
will be greatly reduced. And we get
along as best we can without our new
garments on the very occasions when
we most desire them. But it really
does not seem this season as if this
were worth while. Considering their
exquisite quality, I have never known
coats to be less expensive, and it is
scarcely conceivable that their price
tickets could be further lowered.
One of the most pronounced fea-
tures of the newest coats is the blous-
ed back. This does not mean, of
course, that we are to be inflicted with
the clumsy, bulky, graceless things
which a blouse back can be when it is
not correctly designed. The makers
have cleverly given us, in these new
models, not only svelte lines but the
utmost chic. They have done all sorts
of interesting things to the underarm
seam, and have even conceived an en-
tirely new method of setting in the
sleeves, so that all superfluous ma-
i terial is taken care of.
| Unless you are actually suffering
‘from embonpoint, you can safely at-
| tempt one of the ultra smart bloused
| edge that you are flaunting quite the
| latest thing. One reason for its suc-
i cess is, perhaps, the marvelous soft- |
ness of the season’s materials. They
rious as fur. And one may drape or
coax them into the most charming
lines without the least detriment to
their lustrous surface. The time was
when in order to get warmth one must
have a weight so great as to be cum-
bersome. But in the new order of the
fabrics they may be as light as a bit
of thistledown, yet warm enough for
the most “blizzardy” day.
in which bolivia is held. It is as pop-
ular today as it was when it made its
debut several years ago. Silk bolivia
is used for some of the handsomest
models, and it is one of the few ma-
terials which are as lovely in black as
in colors. So often, you know, black,
particularly in wool materials, takes
on a grayish look which is anything
but attractive. Both in marvella, that
distinctive favorite of fashion, and in
silk bolivia black is being seen a great
deal. It appears to form the queen-
liest of backgrounds for the ravish-
ing fur collars of squirrel which are so
smart, either in the alluring blue-gray
Siberian or the very new Viatki.
Some of the new collars are so im-
mense that one wonders whether the
wrap is of cloth with a fur collar or of
fur with a bit of cloth attached.
Shawl collars are the vogue and many
of them reach the waistline, making a
lovely setting for the fair face of the
wearer when they are turned back; as
they are more often than not. Added
to this are frequently cuffs which may,
if they like, reach the elbow, and as if
this were not enough there are panels
edged deep with fur and sometimes
even entire fur panels. The ever-
present squirrel, mole, seal, beaver
and any amount of caracul are the us-
ual pelts employed in this mode.
short than the long-haired furs. But
when collars alone are seen, or collars
and round cuffs, there is no absence of
long-haired peltry. Fox, especially
platinum fox, is high in favor. It, too,
combines wonderfully with black or
with the new Hawaiian and ensign
blues. Wolf, which once was looked
upon with disfavor, is now a petted
member of society. I saw a beautiful
model the other day of gerona in that
inviting shade known as kit-fox gray. |
And it was collared to the waist and
below with the silkiest of natural gray
wolf. When I spoke of the lovely '
sheen and softness of this fur, the fur-
rier called my attention to an equally ,
lustrous pelt of black wolf. And this,
no doubt, accounts for its popularity.
If wolf is going to be as pliable and
as silky as fox, then there is no reason
why it should not be as well liked. |
Raccoon, ringtail and black opos-
sum are other members of the long-
haired variety which have fashion’s
sanction and the favor of milady.
They are among the most adaptable
of furs and they wear endlessly. And
they are, or should be, comparatively
inexpensive.
If your coat is to be of brown, as
every second coat one meets is, the
choice of a harmonizing fur is often-
times a bit difficult. You see at a |
glimpse that none of the gray tones
will be pleasing. Australian opossum
may be used and fitch-dyed fox is
lovely. So are beaver, nutria and seal.
The browns of this winter are such
adorable shades that it is no wonder
back affairs and wear it in the knowl- |
are as supple as velvet and as luxu-
There is no lessening of the favor |
It is, as you see, more suited to the :
{ glorified homespun or perhaps it is
| tweed.
“Sugar and spice and everything
nice,” must go into the making of
these delicious holiday dishes, and as
i both mincemeat and plum pudding
| seem to ripen and improve with being
| kept for several weeks or months, it
i is none too soon to be busy with this
fascinating task.
Unfortunately many housekeepers
think that in these days of prohibition
it is useless to try to make either
mincemeat or a good Christmas pud-
ding without the addition of either
wine or brandy. I think, however, if
the formulas given below are carefully
followed even the most exacting ca-
terer will be more than pleased with
the results.
When making mincemeat, do not
use the usual cut of round as the meat
ingredient. Substitute either fresh
beef heart or tongue and you will find
that not only will it be more delicate
and tender, but the flavor will be much
richer.
Southern Mincemeat.—Put into a
large kettle three pints of chopped
beef tongue or heart, one pound of
beef suet, put through the meat grind-
, er six pints of coarsely chopped peeled
' apples, one and a half pints of strain-
| ed meat stock, one cupful of boiled ci-
. der, three cupfuls of brown sugar, onc
‘cupful of dark molasses, two and a
half tablespoonfuls of salt, one pound
each of currants and shredded citron,
three pounds of seeded raisins, one
cupful of chopped candied orange
peel, the juice of three lemons and the
grated rind of one. Heat gradually
"and simmer for two hours, then add
one cupful of grape juice, two table-
spoonfuls of ground cloves, three ta-
blespoonfuls of cinnamon and one ta-
blespoonful of grated nutmeg. Seal
. hot, as for canned fruit.
English Plum Pudding.—Mix to-
gether two and a half cupfuls of flour,
| one cupful of grated bread crumbs,
{half a teaspoonful of salt, one tea-
spoonful each of cinnamon and cloves,
ione and a half cupfuls of chopped,
seeded raisins, three cupfuls of cur-
rants and half a cupful each of chop-
ped walnuts, figs and minced candied
orange peel. Stir one and a half tea-
spoonfuls of baking soda into one cup-
ful of sour milk and add one cupful of
beef suet, chopped to a powder; one
beaten egg and half a cupful each of
dark molasses and sugar. Gradually
combine the two mixtures and beat
and mix thoroughly. Steam in a large,
i well-oiled mould for four hours. This
| pudding will serve 12 persons and if
| preferred it may be cooked in two
moulds.
|
Lemon Mincemeat.—Peel two lem-
‘ons, cut the rind in tiny strips, cover
with cold water and boil until tender.
Add to the peel and the liquor in which
it has cooked, half a pound each of
beef suet and beef heart, very finely
chopped; the juice from the lemons,
six peeled, chopped apples; one and a
half cupfuls of sugar, one pound of
currants, half a pound of seeded rai-
sins, two ounces of shredded citron,
half a cupful of boiled cider and about
the same of strained stock. Simmer
until quite thick and season to taste
with salt, ground cinnamon, cloves and
nutmeg. Store as for canned fruit.
A Good Chrismas Pudding.—Melt
half a cupful of butter and blend with
a cupful of rich, sweet milk, slightly
warmed. Stir into half a cupful of
dark molasses, one teaspoonful of bak-
ing soda, combine with the milk and
add half a cupful of sugar, one tea-
spoonful of cinnamon, one-quarter of
a teaspoonful of ginger, the same of
salt and half a teaspoonful each of
cloves and nutmeg. Then beat
about three cupfuls of flour. Have
ready one cupful each of blanched
chopped almonds, shredded figs and
chopped, seeded raisins and half a cup-
ful each of chopped dates and minced
candied orange peel. Dust these with
another half-cupful of flour and stir
into the pudding. Turn into two oiled
Jonlds and steam for about three
ours.
in
CANCER CAN BE CURED.
Cencer killed 7,856 people in Penn-
sylvania in 1921. This is a death rate
of 85.5 per 100,000 population, a high-
er rate than that caused by tuberculo-
sis of the lungs which was 78.9; high-
er than the diphtheria rate, 22.5, or
typhoid fever, 7.3.
Cancer brings death in an agonizing
form, yet the disease is often curable
if taken in time.
The State Health Commissioner
says, “A death from cancer of the
skin or of the mucous membrane near
the skin, as the mouth, lips, tongue, or
cheek is an entirely avoidable death.
These cancers in their beginning can
always be cured. Their beginnings as
women have gone mad over them. a rule are not cancer but some per-
Brown Pollyanna with a tucked back ' sistent inflammation which ultimately
and long-fitted panels at the side, with | turns into cancer; a wart which grows
fascinating sleeves showing tight little | and becomes inflamed, a mole which
lengthwise tucks, with a lining of Ha- | exhibits the same tendency, a little
vana brown peau de cygne and trim- | Skin patch which scales and persists,
ming of beaver, and you have a wrap these are the common signs which re-
which a princess of royalty might quire attention and which can be cured
envy.
You have probably noticed that
there is a decided liking for the wrap-
py models whose upper portion is
stitched or otherwise decorated over
its entire surface. A model of seal
| before cancer develops.
' “A painless application of radium
will usually cure it,” he continued,
“sometimes the knife under local
anesthesia, which makes the proced-
jure so painless there is not even a
brown veldyne is developed in this | wrinkling of the brow when the need-
manner with an all-over tracery of flat | ful cut is made and the one or two
silk braid in a matching tone. I no- | stitches applied. A sore spot on the
ticed a coat of midnight blue duve- |lip which persists more than a few
tyne the other day, which boasted no
fur, and whose wa’st to its bloused
back was covered ‘vith large French
knots done in silk of the same shade.
It is, of course, only the smoother ;
fabrics which may be treated in this
way, as the effect would be lost on the
exquisite pile materials which are so
noticeably in the lead. But if the |
theme appeals to you, you have a |
choice of it in the latter with the top
of caracul, and in this way you will
acquire not only a smart style note,
but one of the most intriguing gar-
ments of the season.
Before I forget it, I must tell you
about the peachy new sports models
which the younger set are wearing.
They are very new as yet, but each
day sees more and more of them on
days may be the forerunner of cancer
—fever blisters last at most but a few
days. Persistent sores on the tongue
or cheek should be regarded in the
same light. Lumps in the breast or
growing anywhere call for immediate
atention. By modern methods the re-
moval of growths is entirely safe and
painless.
“Internal cancer could be cured, and
always, except that in its beginning it
usually gives no sign and not until it
is largely developed can it be detected
by examination.”
During the World war the United
States lost 80,000 men, and in the
same period 180,000 people died of
cancer in this country.
——Subscribe for the “Watchman.”
! the streets. The material is a sort of 661 CITIES AND TOWNS IN THE
UNITED STATES HAVE REVIV-
i ED CHRISTMAS CAROLING
CUSTOM.
So thoroughly established now in
this country is the venerable custom
of outdoor Christmas ecaroling as a
feature of the public Yuletide celebra-
tions in no less than 661 cities and
towns. The list of these is given in an
illuminating survey on the spread of
the movement made by the National
Bureau for the Advancement of Mu-
sic, which is co-operating with church-
es, schools, music teachers, club lead-
ers and others organizing groups of
carolers among the young people of
the community and rehearsing them in
the beautiful old melodies. Accord-
ing to the Bureau’s records, gathered
through newspaper clippings from all
parts of the country, 330 cities had
had the caroling in 1920, as compar-
ed with the 661 in December last, so
that at the present rate of growth the
list should reach at least 1,000 this
year.
Speaking of the modest beginnings
of the movement in America the sur-
vey says:
“Ten years ago outdoor Christmas
Eve Caroling, especially by itinerant
groups through the streets of town
and village, was almost unknown in
this country. The beautiful old cus-
tom that had once been universal in
England had all but died.
“The widespread adoption of the
Community Christmas Tree did much
to bring the carols to public attention
again. Yet the singing of the charm-
ing old Yuletide songs for the public
benefit was all too infrequent and the
general absence of the ‘waits,’ the
traveling bands of carolers in their
picturesque red cambric capes, was
particularly regrettable.
“The National Bureau for the Ad-
vancement of Music is interested in
extending more widely the influence
and utilization of music among the
American people, and it saw in the
Christmas caroling one of the most
inspiring uses of song, as a satisfac-
tion to the singer, a joy to the com-
munity, and a means of expressing
the Christmas spirit. In 1917, there-
i fore, shortly after its own inception,
the Bureau began working actively
: for the country-wide expansion of the
| custom.”
| Not only has the idea itself attain-
ed the great popularity indicated in
| the survey, which it is admitted prob-
| ably leaves out a number of cities
that should be included, but there have
been many new developments intro-
duced from year to year, some of
which have themselves met with wide
favor. One of these is the practice of
serenading by the carolers outside the
homes of shut-ins and the visiting of
hospitals, institutions for the aged,
etc. The traditional costume of cape
and hood is also being more exten-
sively used. In many towns some of
the itinerant bands consist entirely of
| adults, in others partially of adults.
A number of these special features,
as well as general information for
those desirous of forming caroling
groups, are described in the booklet,
“Christmas Eve Caroling Being Re-
vived,” which may be obtained free
upon request by readers of this news-
paper who write the National Bureau
for the Advancement of Musie, 105
West 40th Street, New York.
A Chance to Reinvest Your Stamps.
During the war the government of-
fered war savings stamps, paying
about 4 per cent. as a method of sav-
ing for people of small means. Since
the war, and to take the place of war
savings stamps, the government offer-
ed treasury savings certificates in de-
nominations of $25.00, $100.00, and
$1,000, now sold to investors at $20.50,
$82.00, and $820.00, respectively. They
pay 4 per cent if held to maturity,
five years from date of the issue.
About $625,000,000 of war savings
stamps, series of 1918, become due
January 1st, 1923, and the government
now offers to issue treasury savings
certificates in exchange for them, af-
fording the owners an opportunity to
continue a safe investment with good
interest. Saving has furnished the
life blood for many nations and in-
sures prosperity to the people. The
government is doing everything pos-
sible to encourage saving in the Unit-
ed States by offering sound and at-
tractive securities for the investment
of small funds. If you want to save,
and insure your future, it would pay
you to investigate Uncle Sam’s sav-
ings system.
The large amount of money invest-
ed, and the great number of persons
who purchased war savings stamps,
showed that the people of this country
could save money when the necessity
arose. Now, if they will take the mon-
ey they saved when they bought
stamps to aid the government in the
prosecution of the war and buy treas-
ury savings certificates, they will dem-
onstrate that the thrift lessons of the
war have not been without effect. The
holders of the war savings stamps
have seen investments of about $20.50
grow to $25.00 in five years, and a
larger amount in proportion. They
can see the same thing repeated if
they reinvest in treasury savings cer-
tificates. Interest accumulates at the
rate of 4 per cent. each year, com-
pounded semi-annually. These sav-
ings certificates are exempt from the
normal federal income tax, and from
all State and local taxation (except
estate and inheritance taxes), and
may be held to the amount of $5,000,
maturity value,
every member of the family. They
are backed by the credit of the United
States government, and afford an easy
and sure method of saving.
for each issue, by
A Heavy Hand.
Professor Barrett Wendell, Yale's
brilliant and famous critic, was talk-
ing at a tea about a new novelist.
“He has a heavy, awkward hand,”
said Professor Wendell. “When he
wants to be impressive he reminds me
of the divine who went to the jail to
administer the last comforting rites of
the church to a murderer.
“ ‘Dugald, mon,’ he said—for he was
a Scot—‘Dugald, mon, the gallows is
ready, the rope’s ready, the hangman
is ready—Dugald, are you ready?’ ”