‘Bema
"Bellefonte, Pa., June 27, 1924.
SWEET GIRL GRADUAETS’ WOE.
By L. A. Miller.
“Some waltz, some draw, some fath-
om the abyss of metaphysics, others
are content with music; the most mod-
erate shine with wits, while others
have a genius turned to fits.”—Byron.
“Now what?” said a Junior to the
first honor girl, as she sat thoughtful-
ly contemplating the diploma, bound
with blue ribbon, and the elegant bou-
quets bearing congratulatory notes
from admiring friends.
“Ask me something easy,” she re-
plied in college slang, and went on re-
viewing her jewelry and ribbons and
laces. -
“Something easy?” exclaimed Ju-
na. “I thought you were done with
hard questions now that you have
graduated.”
“So did I think that this night would
see the last of the hard questions, but
that question of yours: “Now what?”
is more difficult than the longest
problem ever evolved from the brain
of Euclid.”
“Mercy! Ain't your troubles all
over now that you have your diploma
and the first honor prize? Dear me!
I would be just too happy for any-
thing if I were where you are. Only
think; here I have two long years to
dig and scratch among these musty
books before I'll have a chance to
stand in your shoes.”
“Well, what would you do if you
were in my place tonight?” said Nel-
lie, the sweet girl graduate.
“What would I do?” exclaimed Ju-
na, as she piroueted around the small
but cozy room. “What would I do?
I’d cut a pigeon wing, you bet!”
“It is well to be you, dear Nellie,”
whispered Juna, as she hugged her
bosom friend tightly to her arms.
“Do go away, please do,” pleaded
Nellie, as she strove to loosen Juna’s
Tip.
“Why do you want me to go away?
You used to want me to hug you,”
said Juna, hugging her tighter.
“But I want you to go away. Please
go to your room and leave me,” plead-
ed Nellie earnestly.
“Do you want to throw a love let-
ter out of the window? or is your
sweetheart going to climb up the out-
side? Don’t mind me, for I will nev-
er tell. You know I never did tell
anything on you,” said teasing Juna,
as she squeezed Nellie’s face between
her plump, soft hands and smacked
her fair on the mouth.
“No, no, dear child, it’s not for that
I want you to go.”
“Then tell me what it is and I'll go,
but I don’t want to,” pouted Juna,
toying Nellie’s bangs.
“lI want to cry,” sobbed Nellie,
turning her face away.
“And so do I,” boo-hooed Juna, and
giving Nellie an emphatic squeeze
and a blubbering kiss she flew out of
the room and sought the seclusion
which her own quiet quarters afford-
ed. There she cried and cried without
knowing why, until compassionate
morpheus bore her captive to castle
forgetfulness in the heart of dream-
land. Possibly she could have said,
in the language of Shakespeare:
“I am a fool, to weep at what I am
glad of.”
“Now what?”
Nellie stood before the mirror gaz-
ing into her own face. The tears had
washed furrows through the dash of
powder that had been artistically ap-
plied to heighten the effect of the lit-
tle red that yet remained on her
cheeks. Her bangs were disheveled,
and the red roses that had shown to
such good advantage among her raven
tresses, were drooping and spiritless,
the fair neck was bare of the dia-
monds which had sparkled beneath
the well modeled chin, envious of the
brilliancy that shone from the dark
eyes contrasting so sharply, vet
agreeably, with the white, broad fore-
head. “No fragrant de corsage rode
an anchor or heaving billows of illu-
sion, nor did penant rosebud nod in
unison with tumultuous throbbing of
the heart.”
Stripped of all ornamentation, Nel-
lie stood in the presence of herself,
repeating and repeating, yet never
answering Juna’s query: “Now
what?” Never before had she found
two words fraught with such import-
They seemed to have aroused her to a
realization of the fact that there is a
future. For years she had looked
forward to this occasion; it was the
end of her future. Now she had
reached it, and another future spread
out before her, in which she could see
no commencement nor ending. It was
simply a plane without shrub or shel-
ter, bounded by a dim horizon and
lighted from she knew not where.
“Now what?”
Turning from the contemplation of
her anxious and puzzled face, she
looked sadly upon the scattered flow-
ers that lay dying upon the floor, at
the books upon the shelves, at the
parchment scroll and the blue and
gold prize. For these she had con-
tended heroically; now that they were
hers, their charms were gone; they
were disappointing, unsatisfactory.
“Now what?” Standing upon the
threshhold of a new future, the past
seemed to have been wasted. The
weary months and years that she had
toiled to reach this point now appear-
ed as a dark and crooked trail, and
she could not help feeling that she had
reached the bourne of a new exist-
ance. She could not return, and how
should she go forward?
“Now what?” The clock in the dis-
tance struck one. To Nellie the sound
had no significance as to time, but its
loneliness seemed typical of herself.
It went forth unaccompanied on its
mission: A message of joy to some
and sorrow to others; a warning to
all that a new day had been born,
whose burdens must be taken up.
This single peal from the owl-
haunted belfry awoke Nellie to a re-
alization of. the solemn fact that she
existed; also that her future exist-
ence would depend largely upon her
individual exertions. It broke the
spell that had so long bound her, dis-
pelled the halo that had shut the mat-
ter-of-fact world from her view, and
destroyed the troops of pretty air cas-
tles that she had sent adrift. Life
has assumed a new aspect, dreams
battle seems about to begin in earn-
est.
“Now what?” These words haunt-
ed the poor girl, turn where she would.
The effort to banish them from her
mind only magnified them. There was
no music in their song, only a dull,
leaden sound devoid of cheerfulness.
This will not do. There is no time
for repining. Tomorrw is near at
hand, and soon she must step out up-
‘on the new future. There is no way
of avoiding the step if she proposes
to fill the mission designed for her.
To linger within the olden shades and
walk o’er and o’er again the paths
that have already been trodden, time
and time again, is but to waste her
life. There is a noble work for every
woman, and she alone the noble wom-
an who dares do it.
“Now what?” she said to herself,
as she finished braiding her hair. The
sad, puzzled look had disappeared
from her face and in its stead there
was an expression of determination. |
“Were Juna here I would answer her
question. I’ll be a true woman, meet
the trials of life philosophically, and
bear its burdens with cheerfulness.”
In this dilemma she took Longfellow’s
refrain in Keramos:
“Stop, stop my wheel! Too soon, too soon
The noon will be the afternoon.
Too soon today the yesterday;
Behind us in our path we cast
The broken potsherds of the past,
And all are ground to dust at last,
And trodden into clay.”
Real Estate Transfers.
G. W. Holt, et ux, to J. W. Burns, et
al, tract in Union Twp., $100.
Anna Valentine, et al, to Vincent
Bolden, tract in Spring Twp., $1
A. M. Hoover. et al, to Donald
Snyder, tract in Bellefonte, $500.
Julia Hale, et al, to Harold M.
Haworth, tract in Rush Twp., $700.
John H. Shuey, Exr., to Fearon J.
Struble, tract in College Twp., $1,700.
Walter B. Dreibelbis, et ux, to
Albert Lutz, tract in Ferguson Twp.,
$800.
Anna T. H. Henszey, et bar, to Phi
Lamba Theta Fraternity, tract in
State College, $2,500.
Frank Sasserman, et ux, to John W.
Sheckler, tract in Bellefonte, $300.
American Lime and Stone Company
to Nathaniel H. Krape, tract in
Benner Twp., $495.
John H. Hartswick, et al, et ux, to
W. R. White, tract in State College,
$450.
F. Amelia Long, et al, to John
Summers, tract in Rush Twp., $3,900.
E. M. Huyett, et ux, et al, to
Theodore D. Boal, tract in Ferguson,
$10,248.14.
Edward L. Lingle, et ux, to Ray H.
Lingle, tract in Gregg Twp., $700.
James G. Tyson, et ux, to John B.
Lucas, tract in Howard Twp., $1.
John B. Lucas, et ux, to Sarah J.
Tyson tract in Howard Twp., $1.
John L. Holmes, et al to Ruth F.
Myers, tract in State College, $1,500.
Victor Shedlock, et ux, to Carrie M.
Lee, tract in Rush Twp., $1.
M. B. Bigelow, et bar, to John
have merged into realities, and the.
Petriskie, hilipsburg,
$175.
Olive Bartlabaugh, et al, to Robert
C. Blackburn, tract in Halfmoon Twp.
$350.
Harry Lyons, et ux, to Clyde L.
Johnsonbaugh, tract in Spring Twp.,
$400.
Carrie M. Lee, et bar, to Victor
Shedlock, et ux, tract in Rush Twp.,
$100.
L. Frank Mayes, Treas., to Savilla
Rupert, tract in Liberty Twp., $5.40.
L. Frank Mayes Treas., to George
Walker, tract in Snow Shoe, $40.
L. Frank Mayes, Treas., to Frank
T. Philip, tract in Potter Twp., $39.12.
Adam N. Krumrine, et ux, to
Richard B. Snyder, tract in State
College, $600.
Elizabeth J. Winter, to Effie K.
Harvey, tract in State College, $1.
tract in
Good Riddance.
Ole Svenson, a son of the silent
North, after having lived by himself
and prepared his own meals for three
years, had taken a wife. Mrs. Sven-
son proceeded to live with her hus-
band for the better part of two
months, after which she ran away to
the city.
“Well, Ole,” said a friend some
time after the lady’s departure, “are
MEDICAL.
All Out of Sorts?
So Was This Bellefonte Woman Who
Tells Her Experience.
All too often women accept their
pains and aches as natural to their
sex. They fail to realize that weak
kidneys are often to blame for that
backache, those headaches, dizzy spells
and that tired, depressed feeling.
Thousands have found new health,
strength by helping the weakened
kidneys with Doan’s Pills—a stimu-
lant diuretic. This Bellefonte case is
one of many:
Mrs. Susan Lyons, R. F. D. No. 1,
Box 49, says: “I suffered with disor-
dered kidneys and my back gave out
and ached as if it would break. I was
hardly ever free from nervous, dizzy
headaches. I used Doan’s Pills bought
at Zeller & Son’s drug store and was
relieved.”
Price 60c, at all dealers. Don’t
simply ask for a kidney remedy—get
Doan’s Pills—the same that Mrs. Ly-
ons had. Foster-Milburn Co., Mfrs.,
Buffalo, N. Y. 69-26
you sorry she went?”
“No,” replied Ole.
“No? Why not?”
“Vell,” was the reply, “she was al-
ways getting in de vay ven I vas
cooking.”—Los Angeles Times.
The action of Nature’s Remedy (MR
Tablets) is more natural and thor
ough. e effects will be a revela-
tion—you will feel so good.
Make the test. You will
appreciate this difference.
Used For Over
Thirty Years
Chips off the Old Block
MR JUNIORS ===Little Nis _
The same NR —in one-third doses,
candy-coated. For children and adults.
SOLD BY YOUR DRUGGIST
C. M. PARRISH
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Fine Job Printing
0—A BPECIALTY—o
AT THE
WATCHMAN OFFICE
There 1s no atyle of work, from ths
cheapest “Dodger” to the finest
BOOK WORK
that we can not do in the most sat-
isfactory manner, and at Ppices
consistent with the class of work.
Cali on or communicate with this
CHICHESTER § PILLS
ae Te
ever too hot
Never too cool ~
; The famous Westinghouse Iron—the iron
with the beveled base, greatest ironing sur-
face, even heat distribution, perfect balance —
now performs the almost impossible.
Whether you work fast or slow; whether
you use it constantly, leave it for a while or
even forget it—it is thinking, acting and main-
taining that perfect ironing temperature.
Get one today from your Dealer
Westinghouse
KEYSTONE POWER CORP. Bellefonte, Pa.
Who Can Tell?
ake the .average man—what does he know about
the inside details of clothes? Can he really tell
the difference between artful tailoring and indiff-
erent making? The chances are that he can’t.
All he can do is take the word of the store.
Lots of men in this locality take our word when it
comes to clothes because we have gained a reputation
for keeping the faith.
For one thing, we have Griffon Clothes
here. Famous clothes. Clothes known for their un-
failing quality. When men choose clothes here, they
pick the style and color that they want knowing that
the rest will be all right.
A. Fauble
TH
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EEE LEU EU UE SUEUR ELE
LADIES’
Guaranteed Silk Hose
a
All Colors
$1.75 Pair
f they get a runner in
the leg or a hole in the
heel or toe you get
A New Pair free
Yeager's Shoe Store
THE SHOE STORE FOR THE POOR MAN
Bush Arcade Building 58-27 BELLEFONTE, PA.