Bewai Nan. Bellefonte, Pa., October 12, 1923. “Col.” Bierly Doesn’t Like Daylight Saving. “Col.” Willis Reed Bierly, whose occasional = contributions to the “Watchman” are read with so much interest writes under date of Septem- ber 29th, from his business place in Philadelphia, rejoicing with one flour- ish of his pen and lamenting with another. Evidently he doesn’t like daylight saving. Having been born and raised in the country in a day when they went to bed with the chickens and usually got up early enough in the morning to have all the farm chores done before the sun peeped over the top of Brush mountain, the “Col.” re- sents being pulled out of bed an hour earlier in order to be at his business place when the rest get there. Evi- dently he feels that on the farm he had enough early rising to do him and now that he is in the publishing busi- ness he is going to get up when he pleases. He writes as follows: Editor Watchman. Today in this secondary city of the Philistines playing Gal to Gilgal, which is the same as Gotham, the lu- nacy called “Daylight Saving” closed with eclat. That is to say, the Heav- ens seemed to rejoice and such an ideal day has never been excelled. The curses which a n ajority of our denizens heaped upon the promoters of the New York sporting lunacy, in defiance of law, fell heavily upon them. One of the chief purveyors in council was Weglein which, being lib- erally translated, means Baby Wagon. He ran for Mayor on “Daylight Sav- ing.” Well, he had a few thousand votes! The whole bunch of flapdoodle statesmen went down below Atlantic City which is their trysting place, or love nest. A Philistine who cannot afford a sea-washed dive is not in the running. Down there all the political devilment of this State is hatched out like so many serpent’s eggs. Perhaps some of your readers may wonder what became of the good old Democratic party of Binns, Inger- solls, Randall, Pattison and Cassidy. Well, it has been following an ideal fetish! As one of its best rewarded Roly Polies said: “This administra- tion is not rewarding party workers.” The head of this idealism was a can- didate for County Commissioner and he got shillalehed by a Hobernian from the party eleventh ward, un- known to farm or party workers. The chairman of Tenth and Walnut, where a few ancient ladies were wont to meet and. exchange reminiscences of adolescent days, when there were no flappers or bathing beauties, nor soci- ety queens, had a few thousand votes —the reward of faithful party work— and Bonniwelltian fealty. ‘The Re- publican organization took care of Bonniwell and he will be a Bencher too, like Jimmie Beck, late of Lincoln Inn, London. “Today, this superb autumnal day, after lunch at H. & H., on South Elev- enth street, I looked across_the street at 101 South, where the sign of Ira D. Garman, Jeweler, was swinging, as it has for lo, these forty-two years! What particularly enamored me, was the fresh coat of Irish sea waves up- on the front. Did you ever suspect that Ira D. was Irish? I had known the grand patriarch of the house of | Garman at Bellefonte, since—wall, | But he was then long about 1868! ] ) before, and such a fine family he did raise! Some have gone to the land of the Leal, that “Brick” Pomeroy used to describe so felicitously. This son of the old Centre county stock, that we hope may never die out, is a stal- wart among the jewelers and a jew- el among men. I've met him but, once or twice, since becoming entan- gled here. What about prohibition that don’t prohibit bad booze, suicide, estrange- | ment and millions upon millions of waste? The North American, which has been consistent in its courses, set its reserve editor, the Scotch logician, at work on the hypocricy of national and State spenders of the $9,000,000 which Congress gave them to enlist spies, eaves-droppers, et id genus om- nia, and they are spending it! Among the flood of letters of approval which came to the North American is one from an old dromedary back, (I pre- sume from his style) who wants to know what Gifford Pinchot and his accumulated pile of Attorney Gener- als are doing. He insinuates they are all busy with the Pinchot boom for President! May be so. I think he has -one hump too many! But it is inter- esting to compare reminiscences. For example: There was the great edu- cator and philanthropist, Governor Brumbaugh, gradvate of Ephrata! Lightning calculator! All around ge- nius, withall honest. When the lick- spitters and sycophants who browsed around his parterre, sniffed the odors of sanctity and bowed whenever he knit his commanding eye-brows be- gan to tout him for President well— “what's the use? We all know what happened to King Humpty Dumpty! “They all went to Chicago, and some came back, chanting the sarcasm of "Teddy Roosevelt: “Broombaugh! Why ‘he reminds me of a little wooly lamb.” Selah. And thus the Pinchot “Pizzle- tree” psalmists might profit by the fate of Brumbaugh! B The American’s Creed. ‘I believe in the United States of America as a government of the peo- ple, by the people, for the people; whose just powers are derived from the consent of the governed; a de- mocracy in a republic; a sovereign na- tion of many sovereign States; a per- fect Union, one and inseperable; es- tablished upon those principles of freedom, equality, justice, and hu- manity for which American patriots sacrificed their lives and fortunes. I, therefore, believe it is my duty to my country to love it, to support its con-