Bellefonte, Pa., July 16, 1926. eee] BITTERSWEET. Mrs. Theodore Jones Taylor had, in an unostentatious way, been doing of late a good deal of serious thinking. No one suspected her of anything of the sort, least of all her husband, be- cause . he was not the kind of woman one suspected of doing anything at all of a secretive character. It was not her nature, and her circumstances had been such that she never had occasion for developing this trait. If ever a model and comfortable wife was mat- ed to a model and comfortable hus- band in a model and comfortable home it was Suzanne Taylor. It had been so from the beginning five years be- fore. Taylor secured a good position with a high-class automobile agency, his father gave him as a wedding pres- ent a nice house in Scarsdale, and there he took his bride and his posi- tion in society. No question ever arose about a single detail of the whole arrangement. Taylor enjoyed a good income, earned without any nerve-racking effort on his part. And he loved his wife. Not even his wife doubted this. Yet here she was thinking—not out loud but quietly and to herself. Sometimes she began this in the morning as soon as she woke. She rose early because she was doing her own work, with some day help, in or- der to avoid the confusion resulting from the modern brand of insolent and incompetent servants. Teddy was fussy about his breakfast and she was a good cook. She did not mind the extra effort involved in this new duty but, like every good cook, she did ob- ject to his not getting down prompt- ly. Things like popovers and even toast must be timed to the minute and while one has more leeway with coffee it can never be quite as good as it is immediately after it comes to a boil. Teddy always meant to get down on time but he did not leave himself sufficient margin for the little mischances of the morning, like not being able to find his razor strap, cutting his chin and the sticking of cravat in a fresh collar. He clung to the last few minutes of sleep with healthy satisfaction; and, even when ten minutes late, he came down with his handsome face beaming, ready with some such careless remark as: “Don’t fret, Sue. I was a little bit out of luck this morning.” ! “Tell that to the muffins,” she was apt to answer. “My apologies, muffins.” Apparently the muffins always ac- cepted his excuses, for they were in- variably perfect. By nursing them along in the oven and preventing them, with infinite patience and sub- tle skill, from getting overdone while keeping warm, Suzanne manzztd it. She accomplished the same result with the coffee, although it meant moving the pot first on and then off a half-dozen times while watching his three-minute egg to see that it did not get hard over a period of ten minutes. She did not so much min doing this, but it was one of the things that set her to thinking. Once seated, Teddy refused to hur- ry his breakfast no matter how much warning he received from the French clock on the mantelpiece. “Fvery free-born American is en- titled to an honest breakfast,” he iu- sisted. “It’s in the Constitution.” “If you got up a little earlier—” “Had plenty of time if the darned old razor strap hadn’t got hidden,” he broke in. “Where did you finally discover it?” she asked. “Sneaking behind a towel.” “On the usual hook?” “Yes,” he admitted. “How did the towel get there?” “Hanged if I know but there it was. I'm going to buy two or three more dy straps so if one gets lost I can find another.” “Or,” she suggested, “you might put the towel back where it belongs.” He ate his breakfast with a relish —almost too much of a relish. It might have been just as well had he stopped with the third muffin and the first cup of coffee. Suzanne had noticed in the last few months what appeared to be the threat of a double chin. He denied it in face of the fact that he had been obliged to order a new stock of collars a quarter-size larger than any he had ever worn be- ore. 4] have a hunch the collar makers are cheating on the sizes,” he declar- “That’s curious,” she said sweet- ly. “But how did they get hold of your old ones?” “Those just shrank. You can’t trust these modern laundries.” He sat back and lighted a cigarette with an air of calm content. “It’s ten minutes of, Teddy,” she notified him. “Right,” he answered and rose re- luctantly. ! She helped him into his overcoat and he departed... For a moment she stood there all by herself in the hall. He had forgotten to kiss her. That was nothing; he had forgotten before. It was not that he did not care but merely that he did not think. And of course one kiss more or less did not make much difference, especially after five years of marriage. She went back to her work. There was, of a kind, a good deal of it. And much of it was not ‘particularly in- teresting. It looked at times like such vain repetition. Just one thought made it possible—that it contributed to Teddy’s comfort. : She had tried to make this home the most attractive place in the worl to him and she had succeeded. He never came back from his occasional business trips without admitting it. A month ago he had gone to the factory in Detroit for three or four days an the first thing he exclaimed when he came. in the door was this: «Believe me, Hutchins will do some talking before he gets me on there again. I'll resign first.” d | not want to worry Suzanne with —_— — Hutchins was the general mana- er. “Anything go wrong?” she asked anxiously. “The firm isn’t kicking; it’s L Home's the place!” Here was a tangible proof of suc- cess that ought to satisfy the most ambitious wife, for when he traveled no limit was fixed on his expense ac- count. He had the best, and the best to-day is more than princes of the past ever enjoyed. Yet he was glad to get back. But this was one of thy facts which started her to thinking. Somehow Teddy hadn’t gone ahead the way she expected him to do—the way, she had suspicion, Hutchins and Hill expected him to do. He hadn’t slipped back exactly but he hadn’t gone ahead. He stayed right where he was. He had been with the firm now five years and his salary had never been advanced. To be sure, the firm had been generous with him at the start and his cemmissions that first year had been considerable. Since then he had held his own and under her careful management this income had been sufficient. There was even a little left over. He had suggested taking some of this and buying a car but she shook her head. So it was not the question of money that was bothering her. But still there Teddy was, in business right where he started. Within that same period most of his friends had moved up to something or cther, to assist- ant managerships, to junior partner- ships, to vice presidencies and firms of their own. She did not know ex- actly what it amounted to except that it pretty definitely marked progress of some sort. Even at home Teddy had not ad- vanced. That was a good deal to ad- mit; but once she began to think she found herself obliged to admit a good deal more than she wished. That is the danger of thinking. This feeling was not based altogether on the fact that he forgot to kiss her good-by in the morning—though that was signi- ficant enough—but on half a hundred little incidents that seemed to mark a certain indifference and careless- ness. He was, to put her impression in a single word, growing slightly heavy. She noticed this in his speech, his manner and his habits. This had not developed yet to a point where it affected one whit her love for him but it was a tendency that disturbed her for his sake. Just what she expected of Teddy it was difficult to say, because she was not yet clear in her own mind into what this relationship between them ought to grow. But she was quite certain it ought to grow into some- thing. Otherwise they would lose even what they had. It was impossible for them to go on standing. still, be- cause everything else was growing. One either went forward or backward. Perhaps it was with a certain guilty feeling the kind of things he particularly liked. After all he was one man in a hundred and she had plenty for which to be thankful. So she made, among other things, a fudge cake and cover- ed it with rich, boiled chocolate frost- ing.” Ther she fussed around with a cream of celery soup and French- fried potatoes to go with the steak 4 land a romaine salad with French dressing. Her reward came as he was finishing his black coffee. : “Gosh but that was a real feed,” he exclaimed. He adjourned to the sitting-room with his evening paper while she was doing the dishes. When she came in to join him an hour later she found him fast asleep in his chair, his head back and his mouth open. The next day Mrs. Theodore Tay- lor asked for her automobile. “What 7” exclaimed Teddy. “You said I might,” she reminded him. “And you said you didn’t want one.” “I've decided I do.” “Right-o. I'll see if I can’t pick up a small, cheap car.” «I don’t think I want that sort, Ted- 2” “Some class to you,” he declared. “Just what do you want?” “Some sort of nice runabout.” “That will cost money.” “I suppose so, but if can’t have a good-looking car I don’t want any.” “What struck you all of a sudden?” “Nothing—all of a sudden,” &he answered quietly. And yet Taylor went off that morn- ing feeling somewhat uneasy. £ course she was entitled to an automo- bile if she wanted one, but whathe could not understand was why in thun- der she should want one. The longer he was in the business the more he real- ized that they were mighty expensive playthings. Most people never look- ed beyond the initial cost, when, all things considered, that was the least item. Unless a man could afford to ignore absolutely the question of up- keep he oughtn’t to own a car. Tay- lor had not yet reached that point and what is more it began to appear that business this year was not going to be as good as last year. His sales in the last few months had taken something of a slump. Hutchins had the nerve to jack him upon the matter and to show him what young Weston was doing. But what young Weston was doing did not prove anything. He was new to the firm and was hustling overtime to make good. The lad would eventual- ly outgrow that pace and settle down to normal. Normal business—the week after week, month after month, year after year stuff was what count- ed. To be sure, there might come off months, but on the whole Taylor was satisfied that he was making a fair showing. Only it was not any time to expand. ; However, in the present instance he seemed to have no alternative. He did not want to look mean and he did is troubles. She had always been a good deal of a brick and this was the first big thing for which she had ever ask- ed. So two nights later he rolled d | home in a spick-and-span little run- about that really was something of a peach, It was second-hand, to be sure, but it had mot been driven a thousand miles and had cost him the neat sum of thirty-two hundred dol- that she prepared for him’ lars. He had to admit that there was considerable satisfaction in seeing it parked outside the house. It gave an air to the whole street. Suzanne was delighted. That is, she said she was delighted and went through all the motions. “It certainly is a beauty,” she ex- claimed. “I'll say so,” he answered proudly. She circled it, examining the up- holstery and the pretty nickel trim- mings and admiring the color and the finish. “It has an engine too,” he announc- ticed skill pointed out its mechanical virtues and the points of its super- iority. “It will hit eighty,” he added for full measure. “Eighty what?” she inquired anx- iously. “Eighty miles,” he groaned. “But | it will hit eighty of anything else if you don’t steer. It doesn’t go all by itself.” “I must learn to steer then,” she agreed. “Will you give me a lesson to-night?” This was in May and for two hours she sat beside him and made him go up and down the road explaining to her the difference between the clutch and the accelerator and the self-start- er. “You punch them all with your feet,” she summed it up. “Sure. Only you secure quite dif- ferent results according to which ones you punch,” he reminded her. He called to her attention the fact that they had not had dinner. She took the matter lightly enough. “Never mind. We don’t get a new car every day.” “I should hope not,” he replied. It was too late for her to prepare the table with her usual attention to detail. “We'll just picnic to-night,” said. Taylor was never very strong for picnics anyway. They had always seemed to him at best rather messy affairs to be put up with for the sake of the traditional sentiment surround- ing them in the woods or by the shore. But a picnic in the house lacked even that saving quality. It partook more of the nature of a hunger sop at a dairy lunch. It lacked all the charm and ceremony and daintiness that properly should accompany a leisure- ly meal at home. Though he voiced no complaint he left the table unsat- isfied and started for the sitting-room ya his paper. But he was called ack. “It’s almost nine o’clock, Teddy,” his wife reminded him. “You aren’t going to leave me to do the dishes all alone 7” “Qh, let them go until morning,” he called back. “They’ll be right here even then and I won't be able to get your breakfast on time.” “I don’t want any breakfast.” “Not now of course, silly, but you will.” Taylor dropped his paper and turn- to. He was not fond of this sort of thing although he thought ‘of "himself" as domestic. But domesticity has two Hass and this was the side he did not ike. “Will you wash or wipe?” she in- quired. “Wipe—if it’s all the same to you,” he decided. $i A dish towel is well enough to start with, but after a minute or two it be- comes moist and clammy. He would have used one for each plate had he had his way but he did not have it. She allowed him only three and he handled the last one with the tips of his fingers. “We'll have to have someone in; that’s all there is to it,” he declared when he was through. “Servants to-day are so unsatis- a expensive,” she object- she ” “Hang the expense! : “Only you can’t get rid of it that way.” “Well, there are other ways,” she demurred. “We'll see,” he.growled. At that, when finally he did have an opportunity to settle down to his evening paper with her on the other side of the table doing a bit of em- broidery, he was wider awake than usual and even took the trouble to read aloud to her some of the more interesting items of the day. It was toward the middle of June that Taylor began to get really wor- ried about the increase in his house- hold expenses. The car accounted for some of the bills, for Mrs. Taylor was running about a good deal; but it did not explain them all. And the new cook, of course, was an added expense. But over and above these perfectly manifest liabilities there was a gen- eral inflation that extended. all along the line. And with it all there was, as far as he could see, mighty little to show. For three weeks, he had not had at home anything but an indifferent meal. And the baffling part of this was that he could not pi his finger on anything in particular and say, “This is punk.” It never was exact- ly that. It was not exactly anything. The soups were flat without being positively bad, just as they were nev- er hot without being cold. The roasts and vegetables were edible but they lacked that little something more that made him want to come back a sec- ond time. The bread was passable and the desserts looked good but he never could get more than halfway through one of them. ; And yet Taylor, to his credit, said nothing. He was a reasonable man and understood that Mary Ellen aver- aged as well as most of them. He un- derstood further that he had no right to expect his wifé to continue indef- initely in the kitchen. She had done her share in the last five years and it was only natural that with a new car she wanted more time. He tried to see her side, tried to be fair. Now that it was so easy to get out there, she used the country club a good deal and began to take an inter- est in golf. : That it was good for her he had no doubt—-he really wished he could -get out with her more. ed. : ! He lifted the hood and with prac- there was no chance of this with that 'ed stack of bills on his desk vanished collection of bills staring him in the | neatly and forever. No mater how many of them |to be sure, face. he paid there seemed to be just as many left. His library table was al- ways cluttered up with a batch of them. Suzanne sympathized with him continually. + “I'm afraid I'm getting extrava- gant,” she suggested. “No, it isn’t that,” he denied. “I hear everyone kicking the same way. living to-day is a darned expensive Proposition and that’s all there is to it. “You’re very sweet, Teddy.” “Who wouldn't be with a wife like you?” he grinned back. He believed what he said, too. Those last new frocks she bought— she had to have them—were stunning ‘affairs. He was glad when dinner was over and, beyond the range of Mary Ellen’s eyes, he could sit and admire her. He had forgotten how pretty she could be when she tried. It began to look as though the only way Taylor could square himself was to earn more money. He did not come to this conclusion consciously. He was not the kind of man who reaches conclusions that way. This was fortunate because it would have brought discouragement. He had nothing with which to reproach him- self in the past, for he considered that he had struck a good fair pace from the first and maintained it. More- ! over, everyone admitted that business was so bad that any organization should feel content if at the end of a | year it split even. But the trouble with Taylor's pri- vate and personal organization was that it was not splitting even. As president, treasurer and general man- ager of Taylor Incorporated he knew he was running behind at a rate which threatened bankruptcy if he did not do something about it. i He had been getting to the office pretty regularly on time lately. With so much to think about he woke ear- lier than usual, while coffee that tast- ed like chickweed and muffins with- out any taste at all were never any excuse for prolonging breakfast. Suzanne would have been worried about this sudden slump in his ap- petite had it not been for the fact that he could very well afford to lose some twenty pounds. But even so it was not pleasant to sit opposite and watch him toy with his food, recall- ing his old-time enthusiasm. It de- manded self-control, particularly when she knew exactly what the trouble was. When Mary Ellen made coffee she did not make it especially for Teddy. She merely brewed coffee in a general sort of way, as they do in restaurants. That was true of the muffins. As for his three-minute egg, it became automatically an eight-minute egg if he happened to be five minutes late. However, this enforced abstention did not seem to affect his health ad- versely. He moved around the office with a brisker step, which Hutchins was quick to notice. He had always liked Taylor and if he had left a cer- tain disappointment over his work of the last year he was ready, enough to forget that, provided the man gave him a chance. And this Teddy seem- ed to be trying to do. For one thing, he got out more. Automobiles are not sold from be- hind a desk. If they were, the firm would not have needed salesmen. They are sold as the result of per- sonal interviews and actual demon- strations. An automobile in a cata- logue is one thing—most anyone can get along without those—but an auto- mobile so shiny bright that you can see your face in it anywhere, purring sweetly right under your office wz. dow, is quite another proposition. The more it costs, the more important it is for a prospect to ride in it. Ten minutes—around the block once or twice—is not much to ask of a busy man. Or better still, call at his house some morning and bring him down- town: or reverse it and take him home. Then the next time he steps into his old car it will look like junk. And the worse business is, the more like junk it will look and the more asham- ed of himself the owner will be. “Taylor did not intend to exert him- self especially but he knew that if he landed old Brenbridge, who had been hanging fire six months, the commis- sion on the sale would clean up at least half a dozen of the middle-sized bills. . It was more with that in mind than anything else that he drove down to his office at least six times until he finally got him out. Even then, as Brenbridge stepped into the seat be- side Taylor, he said: : “You're only wasting your time and mine. With business the way it is to- day I'm not buying new cars.” “Business has been punk,” admitt- ed Taylor. “But it’s looking up.” “It is, is it?” “Surest thing you know.” He spoke with conviction—a convic- tion which he could not explain. «“1°qd like to see some tangible evi- dence of it.” The car was moving as smooth as velvet down the street. “A little confidence is all we need,” declared Taylor. “The sort of confi- dence a car like this gives you. No- tice the way those men turned around to take a second look?” Brenbridge did. One of them was old Adamson. “Yet me have the wheel,” ordered Brenbridge. Taylor drew up to the curb and swapped places with the old gentle- man. The latter started her and the power of the clean twelve cylinders seemed to run up his arm and quick- en his pulse. The engine responded as only a new and perfect thing can do. He was out with her twen’y min- utes and when he finally returned to his starting point he nodded. “Might as well be hung for an old sheep as a lamb,” he said. “I'll take her.” Taylor felt the same thrill old Bren- bridge had felt. He was convinced of his own conviction. Business was looking up. Once Taylor got started there was no stopping him. He never realized how much honest work he did during But ! the next six months, although he was pleasantly aware. that the accumulat- | | Others appeared, but that was a matter of no great importance. With his com- missions mounting, as they soon be- | gan to do, paying a house bill involv- ed nothing more serious than the few seconds necessary to sign a check.’ The only thing that bothere? him about this was that with his time at home now limited he resented spar- ing even these few seconds from the ! society of his wife. Night after night he found it im- possible to get home for dinner—or to get dinner anywhere except to snatch a bite at the station restaur- ant. That period between the close of business and the seven-fifty-five train he found to be one of the most valuable portions of the day. At that time he was able to meet men he could not reach in any other way. Prospects were always willing to be driven home to dinner and this gen- erally gave Taylor an opportunity to show the car to the wife. It was worth while. The wife was seldom | concerned about the broad question of general economic conditions or, if she was, the sixteen coats of varnish which made the new car shine like a grand piano helped her to forget them. There were a dozen other nice details, too, made for the eye of the wife alone—like the cut-glass vase on the side, the neat little bag near the door, the foot warmer on the floor, and the monogrammed lights. “Not perhaps in themselves import- ant,” explained Taylor. “But all tending to give that tone to the car which particular people appreciate.” Apparently the particular people did appreciate them, for Taylor sold more cars in December than any salesman had ever sold in that month in the history of the firm. “Great stuff,” Hutchins applauded. “I knew you had it in you.” And when Taylor came home late one evening in January and reported his success, Mrs. Teddy applauded too. But, all things considered, she did not show quite the enthusiasm that Hutchins did. It was a bit lonesome these winter nights, eating dinner by herself evening after evening. +4] should think that at least you could make the six-ten,” she said wistfully. “I always plan to, but so many darned things come up,” he answered. She thought, too, that he was be- ginning to look rather thin. He did not seem to notice it, but one even- ing he came home with a new box of collars and she saw that they were marked fifteen. “Didn’t you make a mistake?” she asked as she examined them. “Guess the collar-makers are net- ting honest again, for that size is plenty large enough now.” “Won't they shrink?” “Chinks are improving too,” he de- clared. “I’ve noticed it for the last two months. Guess the whole world is getting better.” That was nice of course and Suz- anne would have been the last person on earth to deplore it. Certainly Ted- dy had improved in every direction. He was just as sweet and considerate and thoughtful as he could'be. But she did miss him at - dinner. What was that old proverb? “Be good and you’ll be lonesome.” It didn't seem fair. If Mary Ellen would only let her make a fudge cake now and then. . .. But when once, tempted beyond her limit, she suggested this, Mary Elen turned on her. “Isn’t my cake good enough?” she demanded. “Yes, Mary. Taylor—" “What’s good enough for you is good enough for him,” argued Mary Ellen. That was the end of the argument. Had she been mistress of her own house, Suzanne would gladly have postponed the dinner hour until eight. This, however, was on the face of it so absurd a proposition that she did is broach the subject even indirect- Certainly. But Mr. y. Taylor doubled his income during that period from May to May but this, oddly enough, did not interest Suzanne in the slightest. Tf this had been all that was accomplished she would haye called it a poor. bargain. Not for four times that sum: woul she have gone on another year lead- ing any such life as this. Almost she. might as well have been a lone wid- ow woman. The limit came in the spring when Teddy began to make appointments for Sunday mornings. “It gives me a bully chance,” he ex- plained enthusiastically. “You see, I can drive them out to their country clubs.” “] see,” she nodded. “But what about driving me out to the country club?” “Now that you have your own car.” That was it. Now that she had her own car she could drive herself. If only someone would steal ‘the old thing. Twice she left it downtown unlocked—and found it there when she came back. How much further she might have gone no one will ever know, for in June came the develop- ment for which she had been waiting. Never will she forget that night when Teddy came home early, his face beaming, and kissed her at the door. “I've some good news for you, Suz- anne,” he whispered. “If you've made forty more sales I don’t care,” she answered suspic- iously. ; “It isn’t that,” he reassured her. «But Hutchins called me in to-day.” “If all he did was raise your sal- ary I don’t care either,” she warned. “He did that—but more, He wants me as assistant sales manager.” “Teddy!” “And he’s given me a small inter- est in the business.” “So you're a sort of partner?” “A baby partner. Bui if I make good—" “Qh, youll make good!” she ex- claimed. Only you mistn’t make good.” “What do you mean by that?” She kissed him. { “You must always come home to dinner now for I'm going to tell Mary Ellen she can go.” “T don’t get you,” he jdmitted. re ———————————— “I'm going to make fudge cakes and everything. And we won't have dinner until you get home, even if it’s midnight. It won’t hurt you now to put on a little weight.” “That’s too deep for me.” “ And I'm going to sell the old car.” “You don’t understand; I've been advanced, and not chucked.” “Advanced, that’s it, Teddy? So we can afford a little freedom. Oh, you don’t understand and never will understand and it’s not important that you should. The only thing I'm sorry about is that I've got to give Mary Ellen two weeks’ notice. But, Teddy Taylor—that dinner will be worth waiting for.” It was, but hang it all, what was the . joke ?—By Frederick Orin Bartlett. $268,000,000 in Bond Issues to be Passed on in 1928. Preparations are being made by the State Department to advertise the twelve proposed constitutional amendments which were passed by the 1925 sessions of the legislature and will come up for second passage next year before being placed on the ballots in 1928 for action by the vot- ers. Four of the number of proposed changes in the organic law of the State call for increasing the bonded indebtedness about $235,000,000. In addition to these four in 1928 the voters will be asked to pass on two others to further increase the State's debt another $33,000,000 bringing the total to $268,000,000. The proposed amendments which call for increasing the debt to be ad- vertised this summer are: Capitol Park improvements, $100,000,000, in- cluding the memorial bridge; rehab- ilitation of State-owned institutions, $50,000,000; soldier’s bonus, $35,000,- 000; and highways, $50,000,000. The two other bond issues which also will be voted on two years hence are for- estry $25,000,000 and Pennsylvania State College $8,000,000. The proposed new highway loan is the third for road making purposes. Funds from the other two have vir- tually been exhausted or will be after this year’s program has been finished or contracted. Carrying charges and sinking fund payments for the high- way bonds are paid out of receipts for automobile licenses and other ‘de- partment income while other issues would be paid for from the general fund. The bonus amendment had pre- viously passed two sessions, but be- cause of legal technicalities. and a . Supreme Court ruling, could not be voted on until 1928. Since that opin- ion a new amendment was drafted and it already has passed one legis- Itive session. | Two of the other proposals are ex- pected to create wide interest. One would permit voting machines and the other making legal the old age pension system. The League of Wo- men Voters for several years has sponsored the voting machine propos- al and the former old age pension law was’ declared unconstitutional. Another proposed amendment fixes the limit for ‘taxation rates’ on all municipal governments, ° cities, coun- ties, boroughs, townships and school districts. Most of the others are of 'interest only in Allegheny county. They would permit consolidations for a metropolitan Pittsburgh with the “boroughs retaining their fdentity and | also provided for assessments of ben- "efits and damages for abutting prop- erty owners in municipal improve- ments. | The New Crop of Laws. New laws to the number of 4100 have. been passed this year, and the returns are not all in yet. This is‘a meagre showing compared with the output of 1925, when 11,000 new laws were put on the statute books. How- ever, forty Legislatures were in ses- sion last year, while in 1926, which legislatively is an off year, only ten Legislatures were on the job. : The satistician who has compiled those figures remarks that if all the bills introduced in the New York as- sembly had been passed, it would have been impossible for any one to do d | business in that State “begmuse of the prohibitive costs such’ldws would have put on industry.” -- Nothing is said-as to the ‘attempted regulation of industry in other States, but 'it'is a fair presumption it approximates the situation in New York. Broadly speaking, the public knows very little about’ the 4,100 new laws of this year or the bumper crop of last year. Neither do the lawyers, nor the public officials charged with the duty of enforcing the laws. It is beyond the mental capacity of the lawyer, to say nothing of the layman, to keep up with our multiplying laws. “Ignorance of the law once was no ex- cuse. To-day, knowledge of the law is an impossibility.” Still, distinguished bodies almost daily and solemnly demand enforce- ment of the law, and demagogic cand- idates for office find votes and enthus- jasm in pledging themselves to the enforcement of all our laws.’ Some one has suggested that there should be one law passed and enforced and that law should be, to hang one legislator every day in the week, and then we will have a law-abiding coun- try and less taxes. —Huntingdon Monitor. Make Night Driving Safer. . A new type automobile headlight, radically different from any now in use, which will give long range with- out glare and illuminate the ditches along the side of the road by a wide side beam, has been developed by the General Electric laboratory after three years of experimenting. With upwards of 20,000 people kill- ed each year and hundreds of thous- ands injured in automobile accidents, many of them occuring at night, any invention which tends to remove haz- ards from night driving, is a public benefactor. A safe automobile head- light is as much a public necessity today as are suitable -electric lights for the home.—From the “Elk Coun- ty Gazette.”
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers