Pee
Bena itp
Bellefonte, Pa., March 12, 1926.
—————————————————————
“THE POWER OF THE DOG”
There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
But when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more ?
Brothers and sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.
Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie—
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.
When the fourteen years that Nature
permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumor, or fits,
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find—it's your own affair
But * * * you've given your heart to a
dog to tear.
When the body that lived at your single
will,
When the whimper of welcome is stilled
(how still!)
When the spirit that answered your every
mood
Is gone—wherever it goes—for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.
We've sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept ‘em, the more
do we grieve;
when debts are payable, right or
wrong,
A short-time loan is as bad as a long——
So why in—Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to
tear %—Rudyard Kipling—In Our
Dumb Animals.
For
A BACHELOR IN BIARRITZ.
The two Osbornes arrived in Biar-
ritz—which, if you put faith in the
advertisements, is the queen of
beaches and beach of kings—at the
crest of the summer season. By the
same train there came a letter from
the manager of an American bank in
Paris to one of his subordinates, a
young blade with social connections,
who happened to be in Biarritz on a
vacation.
“Please call on Mrs. D. G. Osborne
and Miss Osborne, of Malachi, Ohioi,
at the Hotel du Palais, and see that
they have suitable introductions. This
is their first trip abroad, and they
have no friends in that vicinity. Their
accounts are important. I will greatly
appreciate any courtesy you may show
these valuable clients.”
The subordinate, Minot, was annoy-
ed. Even so, he dragged himself to
the Palais and presented his creden-
tials. To his relief, Mrs. .D. G. Os-
borne wasn’t in the least redolent of
Malachi, Ohio, but as soon as he saw
the daughter he forgot both the moth-
er and the bank.
They kept him for tea and he in-
vited them to dine at the Chateau
Basque the following evening. They
ran into a party of the right people,
and with Minot serving as the hyphen,
joined it before the dancing began.
Miss Osborne drew plenty of atten-
tion, but there was one man in par-
ticular who seemed hardly able to re-
move his gaze from her. Invariably
she was aware of this, but since he
had by far the most pungent person-
ality in the entire group, she wasn’t
mortally injured by it. He was tall
and lean and leathery; his eyes were
black and keenly discerning; his hair
was black; his chin was square, with
a noticeable cleft in it. He smiled
easily, but said little, and then in an
unusually soft voice. His attitude
was so relaxed that it was almost
lounging, and yet it suggested mus-
cular repose and nerve control rather
than sluggishness.
Miss Osborne promptly demanded
a report upon this striking individual.
“Who—Pelham Colcord?” said Min-
ot. “Why, I don’t know him so aw-
fully well, and neither does anybody
else. They call him the professional
spectator. All he does is to watch
life’s battle from the sidelines. You
wouldn’t suspect it, would you? He
was a lawyer out West somewhere.”
In the meantime, Colcord was con-
ferring with Mrs. Osborne.
“So youre from Ohio, Mrs. Os-
borne ?”
“Yes, from Malachi. It’s a charm-
old village, perhaps an hour’s drive
from Cleveland.”
“I'm sorry to say I don’t know that
region at all. - Has it always been
your home ?”
“No,” said the stately lady. “I
bought the property only about a year
ago. Before that we were in Chicago.
But Dorothy and I agreed that we
wanted a permanent residence in the
country, and Malachi is perfect. We
motor into town for occasions, or
shopping, and apart from that we are
quite contented on our own little
estate.”
From her description, it was evident
that the Osbornes dwelt in manorial
style, and that Mrs. Osborne herself
was one who scorned the vulgar herd.
Colcord wondered if the enticing
daughter shared her mother’s intol-
erance.
He continued to parley with Mrs.
Osborne until 11 o’clock, when he sat
out—or rather strolled out—a waltz
with her daughter, Dorothy.
Now Miss Osborne, notwithstanding
the bulletin she had from Minot, was
still incredulous; and when Colcord
succeeded in persuading her that he
really didn’t dance she was still con-
vinced that his conversation would be
epic. But to her complete astonish-
ment, he conducted himself like an un-
willing witness in a Court of law.
Q. Have you been in Biarritz long,
Mr. Colcord? When did you come?
A. May.
Q. Oh, it must have been marvel-
ous here in the spring? Have you a
villa, Mr. Colcord? Or are you in a
hotel ?
A. An apartment. The Elephant’s
Nest.
Q. Oh! The Elephant’s Nest. And
your family’s here with you?
A. I haven't any.
Q. Oh! Well, we only got here
yesterday, but from what I've seen of
it, it’s too utterly enchanting. Don’t
you find it so?
A. Not bad.
Q. don’t be so blase! With the
best society in Europe and every pos-
sible thing in the world to do—and oh,
by the way, Mr. Colford, I've heard
the most amazing thing about you,
and I simply won’t believe it! Ill be-
lieve you don’t dance—although I've
got to admit it was a frightful tax on
my believability—but what do you
do? What's your specialty?
A. Nothing.
Q. No, truly! Men like you don’t
come all the way to Biarritz just for
the sake of riding in the choo-choo
cars. Are you here for golf or the
polo or the bathing or what?
A. Nothing.
Q. You don’t do anything ?
sports whatsoever?
A. None whatsoever.
Q. (Helplessly.) Don’t you even
talk ?
Colcord stared at her blankly.
“Why, Miss Osborne!” he said. “Why
— I'm afraid I must have been wool-
gathering!”
“Tm afraid so, too,” she said sweet-
ly, as she veered toward the Chateau.
“But I suppose we ought to be going
anyhow. This is Mr. Minot’s dance
that’s coming.”
The steps were only a few yards
distant. “Oh, my cat’s aunt!” he said
ruefully, “What have I done—gone
and offended you right at the com-
mencement? Without even commenc-
ing?”
This was the precise effect that she
had counted upon. It would bring him
to her later with the positive obli-
gation to open and sustain the dia-
logue. And men are rarely so con-
fidential as when they have just finish-
ed apologizing.
In the doorway she delayed for an
instant. “But an ordinary saline sol-
ution,” she said wickedly, “if used as
a gargle three times a day, is very |
beneficial to the vocal cords. Won't
you please try it, Mr. Colcord, before
we meet again?” Then she sugared
the pill. “Because I'm sure we are
going to meet again—aren’t we 9
The next time that he saw the Os-
bornes was on the Grand Plage, at
the fashionable bathing hour. The
Osbornes today were merely onlook-
ers; they asked him to sit with them.
“Well,” said Miss Osborne kindly,
“have you tried the saline solution
yet, Mr. Colcord ?”
No
He nodded. “In buckets. I reckon
1 coualdn’t have been in top form last
night.”
Her eyes were provoking. “I
thought maybe you were shocked by
my unmaidenly overtures. But, you
see, I was waiting for you to go ahead
and be fascinating. So now you've
got another opportunity, why, go
ahead?”
He gave her one of his quick smiles.
remark makes me feel about
eas I did down in Mexico once.
*y i
a
12
“Well,” said Miss Osborne, “up to
this point the story ought to get past
the censor, I should think.”
“Qh, it isn’t any story!” said Col-
cord. “Just that one night a flock of
greasers jumped us in a camp, and
when I went to get up and be inhos-
pitable I found I'd left my guns out
of reach and both my feet were asleep.
So I had to crawl for it through the
firelight, while the visiting committee
practiced at me. That's all. I was
just quoting it as an example.”
Miss Osborne was tantalizinz. “And
do I make you feel as futile as all
that? I didn’t know I was so irre-
sistible.”
«But I discovered,” said Colcord
whimsieally, “that under fire I was a
mighty fast crawler.” His smile
widened. “And I may be yet.”
“Aren’t the Mexicans terribly poor
shots, though?” she asked demurely.
“Well, that’s that, and we’ll begin
all over. Only I want you to talk you.
Oh, I don’t mean your soul and your
last operation, but—well, how is it
| you don’t do the things everybody
else does?” :
He smiled. “Oh—I don’t know.
Maybe for the same reason that every-
body else hasn’t done the same things
I have. Take yourself. Can you
throw a rope? I can.”
“Qh, that reminds me,” she said.
“T meant to ask you what you were
doing in Mexico?”
“That time? I was boss packer
and snake-shooter for a prospecting
outfit.”
“But if you're a lawyer, you must
have gone to college, didn’t you 7”
“Yes,” he said, “I went to the
Eureka College of Commerce and
Law, in Kansas City. I was in the
class of 1916, on the night shift. Day-
times I had a steady job.”
She didn’t repeat this conversation
to her mother, for there were certain
topics on which they weren’t com-
pletely in accord, and there was no
purpose in anticipating trouble. ‘But
Colcord himself enlightened Mrs. Os-
borne before the week was out.
After having been entertained by
the Osbornes, he took them to dine at
the Hermitage, where the daughter’s
misgivings were realized in bulk.
“At ordering a dinner, which is an
art,” said Mrs. Osborne graciously,
“you are a past master, Mr. Colcord.”
He smiled. “Well, I reckon I ought
to be. For two years] was captain of
waiters in a hotel.”
Dorothy winced, while her mother
fumbled for her lorgnettes.. “Oh!
Are you one of those amazing young
men who worked their way through
the university ?”
“No, Mrs. Ocborne; only through a
commercial law factory. But I was
a gas inspector then. This was be-
forehand, when I was scratching to
make up for not going to high school.
I started driving the station bus, and
then I got promoted.”
She didn’t alter her demeanor to-
wards him; she was his guest. But
when she was alone with her daugh-
ter she said impressively: “Dorothy,
I grant that Mr. Colcord is good-look-
ing and that he was properly intro-
duced, but who is he, and what is he ”
Dorothy had been prepared for this,
but she was ruffled, nevertheless.
“Qh, mother! You think over some
“You're one over the eight already,
of the men you haven't objected to Ted.
because all you could see was their
family and their circumstances. You
remember our last winter in Chicago!”
Her mother stiffened. “Dorothy—”
“Qf course, they were gentlemen—
as long as they were around. All
men are. But when you weren’t there
and they could be as free as they
chose—"’
“Dorothy,” said her mother, “I was |
under the impression that I had your
promise not to refer to that subject
again, either to me or to anyone else.”
That closed the discussion, but Mrs.
Osborne resolved to inform herself
how it came about that one who had
so recently been chaperoning a squad
of waiters in Kansas City was now
socially at large in Biarritz.
The results of her sleuthing didn’t
cheer her. Indeed,she was told nothing
which she hadn't known in advance.
He was handsome, affable, obliging,
a reliable spectator, a safe man with
debutantes and an anchorage for
matrons; he kept his appointments
and paid his bills, and what more
could you expect from a bachelor in
Biarritz ?
The worst of it was that aside from
her maternal qualms, she thought him
charming.
Simultaneously Colcord was giving
board and lodging to various qualms
of his own. Often he wondered what
the two Osbornes would say awd how
much of their benevolence would van-
ish if he blurted out the balance of
the truth which was oppressing him.
The Osbornes, by this juncture,
were in midcareer. They had become
persons of considerable mark; they
were even prominent enough to be
mildly gossiped about. But despite
the glamour and acclaim, and the
fervid worship of Ted Minot, Miss Os-
borne still allotted Colcord a frac-
tion of all evenings which found them
under the same roof, and she still
walked with him, now and then, in the
afternoons.
“You know,” he said, “there are
times when I just have to exert my
resistless will to the utmost to make
sure this is true. If anybody’d told
me 10 years ago that I'd be parading
around Biarritz, France, and have
friends like you and your mother,
why, I’d have rung for the police to
take away the lunatic.”
“Yes,” she said, “it must be a won-
derful sensation to feel that every-
thing you've got, you've really
earned.”
He shook his head introspectively.
“But that isn’t quite correct. How
could it be? Why, with the war com-
ing in, I’ve only had five years! But
I've had some luck—in land deals.
That isn’t anything to be puffed up
about, is it?”
“Why, if you used your intelligence
and your judgment—"
“But I didn’t,” said Colcord. “It
was this way: I had a client who was
broke, so instead of a fee he assigned
me an option he had on some land. In
a year that land had edged right in-
to town, so instead of a $100 feeul
made $5,000. So I speculated on an-
other parcel, and made another profit,
and then I joined a kind of syndicate
—and now I'm in Biarritz. I'm a
pretty fair lawyer—I could always
make a living—but I’ve been lucky.
And you show me anybody that’s
proud of luck and I'll show you some-
body I can’t understand.”
The end of Minot’s vacation was
now peeking around the corner, where-
fore Minot was skirmishing on the
frontier of imbecility. And when
Dorothy was so maddeningly elusive
towards him, what did it mean?
Where did he stand?
At about this period Colcord and
Miss Osborne wandered down the
hard-packed beach to Biarritz, and
discovered, halfway up the steep
cliffs, a pocket of sand where they
could sit and contemplate the miles
of curling surf which give these
shores their name—the Coast of Sil-
ver.
She said musingly: “There’s one
thing you’ve never spoken a word
about. Not a word. But in all these
adventures of yours, hasn’t there been
the least tiny bit of sentiment?”
He smiled. “Yes,” he said, “once—
and that was plenty enough.”
“Oh! Was it a long time ago?”
“No, it wasn’t. But you couldn’t
blame her, anyhow. You know what
my record’s been—and I’m not asham-
ed of it.. She wouldn't have been
either; she had to work, too. But
then her folks fell into too much
money all of a sudden, so we couldn’t
seem to talk the same language. And
that was that. Only I'd kind of count-
ed on her, so it was quite a bump.”
Miss Osborne was sifting sand
through her fingers. “She couldn’t
really have cared for you, though, or
money wouldn’t have made the slight-
est difference—would it? She didn’t
deserve you. You'd do better to for-
get her.”
“Funny part of it is, I don’t want
to.”
Miss Osborne went on winnowing
the sand. “Was that what—led to
your breakdown?”
His eyes were vacant of expression.
“So? Just because I don’t rise up on
my hind legs and paw? Look at me!
Sick! I haven’t seen a man in Biarritz
1 wouldn’t undertake to lay on his
back in two minutes.”
“You're not fooling me,” said Miss
Osborne, under her breath. “You'd
been under a terrible strain—and then
this happened—and then you broke
down—and then you came over here
to get as far away from her as you | Y
could. Didn’t you?”
He smiled. “Who do you think you
are—Madame Zozo, the Mystic Sor-
ceress of Egypt, consultations 50
cents?”
The Osbornes, escorted by Ted Min-
ot, motored to San Sebastian for a
long week-end; so that the next time
that Colcord saw them was on Tues-
day evening at the Municipal Casino.
Virtuously, he began by sitting out a
fox-trot with the mother.
At the soonest opportunity he
strolled out towards the main en-
trance. In the foyer he was waylaid
by Theodore Minot.
“Two words,” said Minot confiden-
tially. “Vital to me. Two words—
and ‘nother little drink.”
Colcord surveyed him impassively.
dances, don’t dance;
' club, don’t golf; come to polo field,
They found a secluded recess and a
waiter. “Well,” said Colcord. “what’s
gnawing you?”
Minot pulled himself together.
«It’s this way, Pelham. You don’t
mind if I call you a dog, do you? No,
because you're red-minded, broad-
blooded American. But you're the dog
in the ointment.”
“What?” said Coleord.
Minot gestured with a flourish. “Oh,
very high-class dog, but—come to
come to golf
don’t polo—just be a fly in the manger.
And here my vacation’s rushin’ trag-
!ically to a tragic close, and —and 1
was at San Sebastian.”
“Well 72”
«Well, don’t do it! Listen, Pelham
—Saturday I depart. And naming no
names, don’t sit out any more dances
with Dorothy—let me crash in. I'm
cold sober, Pelham. But I'm crazy. It
isn’t liquor, I'm—well, man to man,
are you going to plug my game or
not? Pm just asking you to be
human, that’s all.”
Colcord’s eyes were pin-points. He
was saying to himself: “Why, the poor
blinking buzzard! What does he take
me for. But at San Sebastian he
must have proposed to her, and she
stalled. Why did she stall? Oh, but
she is a dear! But her mother! But
her money! But we've got to have a
showdown, and maybe tonight’s the
night!”
He stood up. “Ted, I'm going to be
human you'd be surprised. But don’t
crowd me, boy. You see, to a man
who was raised the way I was, your
proposition sounds languid, Ted. But
I'll mull it over and let you know.
Now is that a fair notice?” He
sauntered back to the ballroom.
Miss Osborne greeted him cordial-
ly and indicated the neighboring chair,
but he said: “No, let’s go out and get
some ozone.”
From the mainland they went across
the wooded foot bridge to the Virgin
Rock.
At length she said demurely: “Well,
are you thinking of taking up gar-
gling again?”
“To tell the truth,” said Colcord,
“I was kind of wondering if I wouldnt
take up most everything again.”
“Everything? What does
mean ?”’
“Well, I used to play golf once.
You see, before we moved to Texas,
I was a caddy. That was when I was
13. And there was one time when I
could dance pretty well, too. That
was when I was about 20. And I
could always fork a horse anyway.
But I wouldn’t do it except for one
reason—and that would be to please
you. Would it?” asked Colcord.
Her heart quickened perilously.
“Yes,” she said, “it would please me
very much.”
“It’s a risk, though.”
“Is it? Why?”
“Well,” he said banteringly, “if I
were following your prescriptions, I'd
be kind of at your mercy, wouldn’t 1?
And then suppose I went and fell in
love with you?”
“But you needn’t do that, necessar-
fly.”
“Well, the main trouble,” he said,
“is that you never know when the
cussed germ’s going to bite. And
I've had one experience that wasn't
so good, and I don’t crave to have any
carbon copy of it. But that’s what
would happen.”
She stood motionless.
mean you're afraid I—”
“Still,” he said, “I might chance it,
if you’d only play as straight as I do.”
“Oh! You don’t think I have then?”
“Why, it’s like this,” he said, with
more seriousness. “All joking aside,
we've got along pretty smoothly, but
I've always been in a kind of a special
class. You couldn’t really measure
me up against the rest of the herd;
I was separate. But the minute I
threw a leg over a pony, or swing a
driver, or try to be a hoofer, why,
you’d have to make different compar-
isons. I’d just be one entry in a big
field. How long do you reckon I'd
last?”
““ h 1”
“In plain English,” he said, “if I
compete with these lads on their own
ground, do you think you could keep
on forgetting that I used to wear my
dress suit in the daytime?”
“What a poor opinion you must
have of me!” she said.
“No, but suppose you’d had to
work with your hands for a living, and
then found yourself in my place to-
day. Ashamed of it? Not likely!
But this is Biarritz, and I'm myself,
and you're you, and the other people
are what they are. So it’s your say—
sed go on and say it. Do I, or don’t
Her head was averted. “For every-
thing you did—when you were strug-
gling so hard—I truly respect you.
Can I say anything more than that?”
He laughed. “Why, I don’t know.
Can’t you?”
She shook her head and waited to
be contradicted. If he had kissed her
she would have revealed to him, in a
rush of tears, infinitely more than he
demanded. She would even have
broken her promise to her mother.
But to her chagrin, she heard the
scratching of a match. He had light-
ed another cigarette.
“Well, that’s fine,” said Colcord.
“That settles a lot. And don’t get
worried about what I said back there;
I'm not going to be idiotic. I'm sort
of anchored to a dream, anyhow—
ou know. But you’ve been a good
little pal, and I just didn’t want to
change my spots without being sure
you'd like a new pattern.” He
glanced at his watch. “Wow! We've
got to travel! Ted Minot’ll be after
my scalp. He's a good egg. One of
the best.”
“Qh, yes,” said Miss Osborne.
He took her to the Casino, where
he said in Minot’s ear: “Go to it, old
boy. I'm swinging wide now, and
you're on the rail.”
“Pelham, you're a prince!”
“No,” said Colcord, yawning. “I'm
the sleeping beauty, and I'm going
right home to do my stuff.”
He left at midnight. Miss Osborne,
however, was so gay and tireless that
she remained until the final bleat of
(Continued on page 6, Col. 1.)
that
“Do you
a
Freak Formation of
Trees Not Uncommon
If anyone doubts that Nature has
na sense of humor, he had better turn
ais attention to trees, and see what
qneer things she invents at times.
Evidently the long neck of the
giraffe struck her as a joke that would
bear repeating, for she has copied it
almost to perfection in Key West,
Fla. There, in what Is known as
Maloney’s garden, is to be seen the
giraffe tree, a date palm grafted ontr
a fig tree.
The graft has taken place about
five feet from the ground, and in or-
der to support it the fig tree has flung
geveral roots across and around it.
The date palm has curved downwards
and upwards until it presents a faith-
ful copy of a giraffe’s neck, at the tod
of which shoot out the orthodox
leaves, mingling on its left with those
of the fig tree.
The Siamese twins offered Nature
a chance too good to be lost, and she
has reproduced them many a time
in the tree family. There was a tree
of this kind at Paignton, in Devon,
England, and in the United State”
there are two splendid specimens.
At Sterling, in Massachusetts, two
great oaks are solidly joined by a
tranversal branch or trunk a yard
long and as thick as a man’s body;
while in New York state there are two
ash trees joined by a thick branch |
which unites their trunks (distant one
from the other more than 20 feet) at
a considerable height from the
ground.
Some years ago Nature discovered
a disused quartz-mine chimney in
Siam. Very soon a green branch was
seen peering out of the top of the
chimney, and it rapidly became a
bouquet of greenery. The whole thing
looked like an immense flower vase,
but it is more than likely that by
this time the roots inside the chimney
have burst the brickwork, and that
the “vase” has crumbled away.
Famous “Newspaper Row”
A part of the site chosen for the
new National Press building was
known as Washington’s Newspaper
row in Civil war days. G. A. Town-
send is authority for the statement
that newspaper correspondents had
pitched upon this block before a hotel
was projected. Its central location,
proximity to government buildings,
telegraph offices and lines of commu-
nication made it ideal. This line of
offices was known the country over
as Newspaper row and when the
dwellings were converted into hotel
property the correspondents contin-
ued to occupy the offices. When the
Ebbitt house was rebuilt the proprie-
tor reserved the basement stage for
newspaper men's quarters. The build-
ing which is to be erected on this
historic spot will become" the perma-
nent home of the Washington bureaus
of many of the leading newspapers of
the country, as well as of the Na-
tional Press club.
Honor for Columbus
Following a semiofficial suggestion,
57 Italian towns rebaptized streets in
the name of Christopher Columbus on
October 12. This rebirth of enthusi-
asm for the great explorer is not al-
together without political importance.
1t is one more sign of a new growth
of nationalistic consciousness among
the Italian people, who are beginning
to feel that their past exploits on be-
half of civilization entitle them to
special deference on the part of other
nations and to hope for brilliant feats
in the future. One Italian newspaper
has urged seriously that because Co-
lumbus once willed America to his son,
and the Italian people are that son’s
heirs, the United States could not
claim payment of the Italian war debt,
but really should pay to Italy all ite
surplus cash.
This Mongrel a Hero
“Adobe,” a mongrel dog with noth-
ing in particular to do one day, went
to the rescue of a rancher of Grand
Junction, Cal, says the Pathfinder
Magazine. The man riding horseback
was charged by a bull. The horse was
gored to death and in falling pinned
the man underneath. Just then Adobe
got In his work. The dog fought off
the bull just long enough for the
rancher to get out his gun and shoot
the bull.
Horse’s Perilous Trip
A runaway horse owned by Na:
;haniel Nutter hauled a heavy ex-
press wagon on the ties over the 300-
foot railway bridge across the Con-
necticut river between Wells River,
Vt, and Woodsville, N. H., without
receiving as much as a scratch, while
an express train, which had been
flagged, awaited its arrival on the
Vermont side. The bridge is 90 feet
above the water and has a railing on
only one side.
High Steel Tower Planned
A steel tower 1,950 feet high—twice
18 tall as the Eiffel tower in Paris—
is to be erected near Lelpzig, Ger-
many. The purpose of the tower is
to serve as a generator of electric
power, with giant windwheels, and as
a radio station. The cost of the tow-
er is put at $1,000,000. The electrical
machinery will cost a further $500,000.
Refined Scrap Metals
According to data collected at the
oiennial census of manufacturers,
1928, the establishments engaged pri-
marily in the smelting and refining
of scrap metals other than gold, sil-
ver and platinum reported products
valued at $35,785,501, an increase of
136.2 per cent as compared with 1921,
the last preceding census yeav
a eA i
Yoga Philosophy
The Yoga system of philosophy fg
said to have been founded by Patan
jali, who claimed that seven distinct
stages were necessary in the develop
ment of the soul before it reached thai
condition in which it was exempi
from further transmigrations. Thest
stages are: Self-control, religious ob
servances, breath regulation, restraint
of senses, making the mind firm, medi:
tation, deep contemplation.
When Judge Changed Law
In the trial of Algernon Sydney,
friend of William Penn, Sydney was
executed for taking part In the Rye
House plot. The law required two
witnesses. It was found that there
was but one; whereupon Judge Jef-
freys made the ruling. The ecircum-
stance against Sydney was that he had
written an unpublished manuscript
against monarchy. .
Did Not Find Favor
In 1858, Charles C. Converse ot
Arie, Pa. proposed that the coined
word “thon,” a contraction of “that
one,” be used to take the place of
“one’s” that would be third person,
common gender. It would solve the
question of a pronoun in such a sen-
tence as “If John Brown or his wife
comes I will give thon the message.”
Writings on Dietetics
Diet was studied in very ancient
times. Hippocrates, the famous Greek
physician, was interested in dietetics.
Maimonedes, the great Jewish physi-
clan, wrote a series of letters on
dietetics for the son of his patron
Saladin. These are probably among
the earliest writings on the subject.
Original “America”
The name America was original
| 1y used only for a portion of central
Brazil, the territory explored by Ves-
: pucel in his voyages to the New
World. It was first employed for the
entire western world by Mercator in
1541.
Interesting if True
A blizzard is the inside of a hen.
fhe feminine of swain is swine. This
new information is found in school
examination papers at Lynn, Mass.,
near Boston. Now you know why
teachers die young.—Capper’s Week-
ly.
i Alexander the Corrector
Alexander Cruden, author of the fa-
nous concordance of the Holy Serip-
tures, thought himself to be commis-
sloned by God to reform the morals
of England and assumed the title of
Alexander the Corrector,
Failed to Find Gold
Sir Martin Frobisher, the noted Eng:
:Ish navigator, was sent out on expe-
ditions in search of gold in the north-
west of North America in 1577 and
1578, but on both occasions brought
back worthless ore.
Month of Thermidor
Thermidor was the name chosen in
i793 by the French national conven-
tion for the eleventh month of the
year. It consisted of 30 days, and
began in some years, July 19, and in
others, July 20.
Poet’s Tomb Neglected
In the political confusion which
narked the reign of Charles I, the
~ tomb of the poet Ben Jonson remained
unmarked until a casual visitor, Sir
John Young, had “O Rare Ben Jon-
son” cut on it.
War on Gypsy Moth
Eight distinct species of parasites
aave been imported from Europe to
prey upon gypsy moths and so check
the ravages of those insect pests in
New England.
Break from English Church
The first Dissenting chapel ot
‘meeting house” in England was at
Wandsworth, Surrey. It was opened
as a place of worship on November
20, 1572. .
Tuberculosis in Cattle
Loss from tuberculosis is one ot
¢he heaviest taxes imposed upon the
live-stock industry of today. An
annual loss of $40,000,000 is esti
mated.
No Painting From Life
More than 80 portraits of Colum:
ous are known, but none of them was
painted from life or even during the
lifetime of the discoverer.
Not Whilé Gas Holds Out
Wild asses In Mongolia can make
40 miles an hour across country. But
do they slow up at the grade cross-
ings ?—Toledo Blade.
One Idea of Opportunity
Too many people think oppor-
unity means a chance to get money
without earning it.—Milwaukee Lead-
er.
Beast!
Absent-minded business man, aft-
or kissing his wife. “Now, dear, I'l
dictate a couple of letters.”—Awgwan.
Preserves Books
To keep books on shelves or In
cases in good condition, sprinkle them
occasionally with powdered camphor.
Nearest to Europe
Poriiand (Maine) is the nearesi
{ Unlte6 States port to Europe.