—
Bewoiatdpn.
Bellefonte, Pa., September 3, 1926.
SHE OF THE DANCING FEET.
What would I do in heaven, pray,
1 with my dancing feet,
And limbs like apple boughs that sway
‘When gusty rain winds beat?
How would I thrive in perfect place
Where dancing would be sin,
With not a man to love my facé,
Nor arm to hold me in?
The seraphs and the cherubim
‘Would be too proud to bend
To sing the fairy tunes that brim
My heart from end to end.
The wistful angels down in hell
Will smile to see my face,
And understand, because they fell
From that all-perfect place.
— Literary Digest.
REALITY.
(Concluded from last week.)
“But now and then,” she said, “in
the long summer evenings, sitting
there in my little mousy corner on the
great old high-backed settle, with Lo-
is always opposite Torrey, and Harry
always opposite Alice, I used to look
out through those long French win-
dows across that wisp of greensward,
across the pounding combers, across
all those far, mysterious little outly-
ing islands, and wonder who was sit-
ting opposite me? In France? In
Spain? Funny, isn’t it?” she ques-
tioned laughingly again, “but always
at the sea, no matter where you are,
you always think it is France or Spain
that you look across to. Almost, in-
deed, I could picture that far man who
sat opposite me. Some one like my-
self perhaps, who didn’t just quite fit
in anywhere, but just sat staring out
and wondering, wondering. A dark
man? A swarthy man? Even with
rings in his ears like a picture-book
pirate!” she laughed out gayly. “The
white scar of a saber wound across
one cheek.”
A little shiver of gooseflesh woke
along Wainright’s spine. Impulsively
he tried to mask his discomfiture with
a laugh.
“The only man I know,” he said,”
“who has a saber scar on his cheek,
the only swarthy-faced man, that
is—” Once again that curious little
shiver struck across his spine. “By
Jove!” he said, “by Jove!” Half quiz-
ically he turned back into the hall,
strode to the bookcase that held his
college treasures, fumbled through
the shelves, drew out a cumbersome
photograph album and began to turn
the heavy pages.
“Eric—Eric Nordman,” he mused
Was that the face she had conjured up
for herself? Conjured it all uncon-
sciously from the mists of an old pho-
tograph album, and thought it was
from the mists of Spain. A faint gasp
of impatience slipped from his lips.
The page marked “Eric Nordman”
was empty. “Helen,” he called out
sharply across his shoulder, “where in
thunder—? You indexed and arrang-
ed these pictures for me! There's a
picture missing.”
“Is there?” said Helen Tennant.
With a vaguely courteous interest,
but no essential concern, she lifted
her eyes speculatively to his. “Oh,
yes, of course! Don’t you remember ?”
she reminded him suddenly. “There
was one picture that didn’t quite fit
the page? Too big it was, and its fo-
cus or something made all the other
pictures look so funny, so you threw
it into the waste basket. I didn’t no-
tice it specially, but—” For the first
time then, and then only, the faintest
possible flicker of self-consciousness
twinkled across the girl’s lips. “But
there was a twist of old lemon peel in
the waste basket,” she laughed, “and
a lot of old trash from your desk—
and—and it didn’t seem quite respect-
ful company somehow for any human
features, so I went back in the night,
and took the picture and tore it into
a million fragments and threw them
into the sea!”
“And jolly well served him right,”
chuckled Wainright, “for that’s just
precisely where he threw himself. Qut
of his family, out of his college, out
of his business, out of everything, just
to slash his way, like a bally old pi-
rate, up and down the ports of the
world. And even when he’s at home,
they tell me, he lives like a wild man,
or a hermit, on some craggy old
island somewhere, in a shack not a
- single inch bigger than just what will
cover his books and his violin. At
odds with every body. Morose, mis-
ogamist; and yet, by Jove!” he kin-
dled suddenly, “I saw him once in the
woods with a wounded fawn, I—”
A warning hand touched his sleeve.
It was his wife's.
“It’s not your reminiscences, dear,
that we’re most interested in at the
moment,” she whispered.
“0O-h,” growled Wainright.
With a half smothered laugh they
all turned back again to the girl on
the arm of the chair.
As though vaguely disquieted or
distracted by the interruption, she slid
suddenly down to the floor and stood
before them.
hau where was 1?” she question-
6
“You were telling us about, about
one night, dear,” reminded Alice
Wainright gently.
“Oh yes, of course,” laughed the
girl instantly. “One gets so, so sort
of rattled sometimes! And then one
night,” she resumed almost recita-
tively.
“One night of the third summer,
you mean?” prompted Alice signifi-
cantly.
“That night of the third summer,”
attested the girl. “And then that night
of the third summer,” she persisted
resolutely, “just happening to glance
‘back across the room at you all, I felt
suddenly very queer, oh, very queer,
I mean. Pinched myself, and didn’t
seem to be there! The most unuttera-
ble sense of panic and shock swept
over me. Here was I, I reasoned, suf-
fering all this time because I thought
myself to be the only real person in a
world of shadows. But,
that, I was the shadow, it seemed, and
only you were the substance. You,
and you and you! I gasped your
names, and it made no sound. ‘Mer-
ciful heavens!” I thought, ‘even if I
screamed they wouldn't hear me!
They don’t even know that I'm here!
If I should go, they wouldn’t even
know that I'd gone!”
“Then I, who had been so engaged
and enloved for three years, six
months and two days, was it? but
never specially satisfied, found myself
suddenly to be unengaged and un-en-
loved, disembodied even, and perfect-
ly happy! :
“ ‘Heigho!’ I said; ‘I will waft my-
self away then’—‘waft’ was just ex-
actly the word I felt—‘waft myself
away to my own mate, to that other
unreality on the other side of the
world!’ ”
“Helen!” protested Lois.
“But even as I crossed the room,”
persisted the girl, “I thought I would
give all you real people just one more
chance to save me! ‘If Lois even looks
up, I will not go,” I promised; ‘if Tor-
rey even smiles—if Alice—'”
“Helen!” protested Alice.
“But Lois didn’t look up,” said the
girl, “nor Torrey smile, nor Alice—”
She began to smile a little herseif.
“And when I reached the French win-
dows,” she said, “I stepped on Harry’s
dog, and he didn’t even growl, crash-
ed straight across Alice’s precious
phlox garden, and never bruised a
flower!”
“Helen!” protested Wainright.
With a little chuckle the girl cross-
ed to the window and drew back. the
curtain, gave a little gasp of delight
at the dazzling scene outside.
“The moon was like tonight!” she
said. “Even the little sheltered cove
gleamed and beamed as if a child had
painted it. Silver daubs on the waves;
silver daubs on the shore; silver daubs
on the sky even. The dock was just
about twenty-two steps long, I re-
membered—twenty-one hoppity-skips,
as it were, and then one stride. All
I'd have to do, I reasoned, was just to
count, and when I got to the stride,
just keep on going. It sounded per-
fectly simple.”
“Y-e-s,” chattered Lois.
The girl at the window turned sud-
denly round and laughed. Her face
in the moonlight and the candlelight
was frankly eerie.
“But when I got to the end of the
dock,” she said, “there was a boat tied
up there, a silver boat with a flopping
silver sail, and in the shadow of that
silver sail, the jetty-black silhouette
of a rather roughly dressed and for-
eign-looking man. But when he lift-
ed his startled face to the light I saw
his eyes, and that he had a silvery sa-
ber-scar across his swarthy cheek.
And then I knew!”
“Knew what?” cried Alice.
“That he was the man,” said Helen.
“What man?” demanded Lois. The
demand was almost a scream.
Helen Tennant looked just a little
bit surprised.
she caid. The state-
“My man!”
ment was final.
“Oh—don’t, don’t tell us that he had
rings in his ears!” babbled Lois hys-
terically. ;
The girl at the window laughed
again.@:
“I must have startled him dreadful-
ly,” she said. “What in the world do
you want ?” he cried out.
“ ‘What do you want?’ I countered.
I was just a bit startled myself.
“He looked a little surprised at the
question.
“¢ God knows!’ he admitted.
“ ‘Oh, if one could only be sure that
He does,’ I said. ‘Let’s go and ask
Him! And I jumped into the boat.”
“Helen!” protested Bradence.
“As though it had been scorched in
a silver flame,” cried the girl, “the
silver painter frayed from the silver
piling. In a gesture of sheer self-
preservation, the man snatched the
tiller and turned us out from the bob-
bing black buoys and splintered tim-
bers into the silver tide.
“‘Are you just a little bit mad?’
he said.
“ ‘No; only tired,” I told him.
“ “Tired of what?’ he demanded.
“Of play,’ I said.
“‘Of play! he cried out. His voice
was fairly scourged with incredulity.
Reaching out half scoffingly from the
tiller he touched the filmy hem of my
gown, pointed to my silly feet, frit-
tered the lace of my sleeve for an in-
stant between his fingers. ‘You!’ he
scoffed, ‘you tired of play?’
“ ‘It’s God’s truth!’ I said. ‘Take me
away with you!’
“Then quite suddenly he dropped
the tiller and jumped up and took my
face in both his great rough-palmed,
weather-beaten hands and turned it up
into the light of the moon and looked
at it, and looked at it and looked at it.
“‘And just what in the world ‘do
you think I could give you, my girl 7’
he laughed.
“ ‘work,’ I said.
“He gave a little gasp.
“‘Work?’ he said. ‘Work? Work?
Over and over again I heard him say-
ing it.
“All around the silver prow of the
boat the silver ripples chirked and
chortled. It sounded like a gigantic
cocktail-shaker! As if the gods them-
selves were shaking up the ingredi-
ents of a gigantic decision!”
“Yes?” stammered Alice Wain-
right.
“And when the decision was made,”
said the girl quite simply, “we drank
it together from a single cup, soberly,
like a sacrament.”
“Y-yes?” stammered Lois Wharton.
“And then suddenly,” said the girl,
“the man turned up his own face to
the open sky and laughed right up in-
to the face of God, as it were. Like
friend to friend, I mean. I had never
heard a man laugh just that way be-
fore.”
“Y-yes ?” stammered Wainright.
“Y-yes ?” stammered Bradence.
Gravely for an instant the girl's
pyes swept the flurried faces before
er.
“Then he took the tiller again,” she
said, “and steered for the open seal”
“Helen!” gasped Lois, Alice, Wain-
right, Bradence.
“I remember a warm coat thrown
around my shoulders,” persisted the!
instead of
Practical Four-Room Plan ]
for That “Castle in Spain”
LIVING ROOM
14:0" 200°
= 1-4
FIRST FLOOR PLAN
CLILING WEIGHTY vaRILS
F
lantern give distinction to this little old
world one-story house. Rough plaster walls
and a colorful tile roof make an attractive
exterior that will find a welcome in any
neighborhood,
its greatest appeal,
covered loggia directly into the large story
and a half living-room, with its triple-
arched windows reaching from the floor al-
most to the ceiling. The dining room al.
cove is conveniently located and well
lighted.
LAGSTONE terracing, iron grille bal
conies and a quaint wrought iron
But a carefully designed floor pian. is
One enters from the
The kitchen has been deftly
planned to give the housewife the greatest comfort and step-saving.
Everything about the house has been planned to give the utmost in
stability and real home comfort. The
walls and ceilings are insulated through-
out with celotex to cut down the coal bills in winter and keep the house cool
in the summer. Who could wish for a more beautiful little home.
©, Celotechnic Institute, Chicago, 1926.
HOW TO SOLVE A CROSS-WORD PUZZLE
When the correet letters are placed in the white spaces this pussle will
apell words both vertically and horizontally.
The first letter in each word is
indicated by a number, which refers to the definition listed below the pussle.
Thus No. 1 under the column headed
“horizontal” defines a word which will
fill the white spaces up to the first black square to the right, and a number
under “vertical” defines a word which will fill the white squares to the mext
black ome below.
tionary words, except proper names.
Ko letters go in the black spaces.
All words used are dic-
Abbreviations, slang, initials, technical
terms and obsolete forms are indicated in the definitions.
CROSS-WORD
PUZZLE No. 5.
(©. 1926, Western Newspaper Union.)
Horizontal.
2—Propagative portion of a plant
4—Mast
7—Having form of a bowl
12-—Large body of water
13—Woman’'s origin
14—Perfect golf
16—Period of time
16—To be foolishly fond
17—A literary composition
18—To propel a boat
1$—Long piece of hard wood
24—A girl's name
25—An unctuous combustible sub-
stance
27—Entertaining
29—Rise and fall of ocean
30—Arabian ruler
Vertical.
1—Former ruler of Russia
2—A bag
83—Annoyed
6—Doctrine of uncertainty
6—What all roads lead to
8—A beverage
9—Aural appendage
10— Wrath
11—Kind of tree
19—A short poem
20—State of hostility
21—Call for help
22—A wooden tub
23—A liquid measure
26—Seaweed
28—Way of departure
Solution will appear in mext issue
girl. “I remember—I remember the
sinewy strength of a protecting arm,
two somber, brooding eyes shot
through with the oddest flare of as-
tonishment. I remember the abrupt,
thuddy bump of a boat prow nosing
into the angle of a rickety dock—I re-
member a dingy old office—the serene,
unperturbed face of a white-haired
man—-Justice of the Peace, they call-
ed him. It made me feel very content.
After all the tumult and unrest, ‘Jus-
tifier of Peacefulness’ was what he
seemed to me!
“Then the silver sea again—miles
and miles and miles—molten silver
miles—to a jagged rock-bound island.
I—I don’t seem to remember anything
else. Not for a long time, anyway!
Not for weeks and weeks! I think
there must have been some sort of a
fever.”
“Fever?” gasped her four friends.
Significantly they looked at each oth-
er and tapped their foreheads.
“What ?” laughed the girl. “What?
You think it was my head that was
touched? It wouldn’t occur to you,
then, that perhaps it was—just my
heart?”
All the laughter went suddenly out
of her, leaving only a great earnest-
ness. With a gesture of finality she
threw out her hands.
“That is all, my friends!” she said.
“I have found at last the length and
breadth of reality! A jut of rockin a
churning sea. Nets to mend; boats to
calk; storms to fight and brave and
dare. All the miracles of springtime
and harvest, the passion of tilling, the
zest of reaping, wrenched from a gar-
den no bigger than a prayer rug cup-
Solution to Cross-word puzzle No. 4.
| |[cl[Elcla]P]OINPIT]S
THARIN ANBIEIAIRIO
N R NIBERRIAINID
T AP 1 |L[L|AJIDIO(E
E[L|F ClA[LIRCIEIN
A PIL]Y RIS
A A FIA
Flu sll NIEIUIT|RIA|L
FITIRT PES A
Y E R cliD
A {NIL AlR|C
L|C FIRIE|1]a|H E|O[N
ENT] I |RIEJC Jie
THRAIN| YIRP[ARME | [LIL
ANNIE TIO[N[1 L
ped in the hollow of the winds. And
at night a man and a woman, slaked
with effort, serene with accomplish-
ment, sitting shoulder to shoulder to-
gether through the holy dusk, looking
out like any other two gods upon the
world which they have made, and call-
ing it good!”
“Helen!” gasped Alice Wainright,
“this thing is incredible!”
“Unutterable!” babbled Lois.
“Impossible!” sweated Bradence.
“In the first place,” argued Wain-
right himself, “it couldn’t be done!
Not this slipping away in the manner
you said you slipped away. One of
us would have seen you, some serv-
ant about the place would have report-
ed you, given some clue, some sugges-
tion. People don’t disappear like that,
without a sign, without a ripple, not
in these days. No man such as you
=~ cheeks.
|
|
{
i
i
i
speak of could possibly, possibly—"
He shook his head. “It simply
couldn’t be done, I say!” he attested
with finality. :
“Oh, couldn’ it?” said Helen Ten-
nant. “Oh, couldn’ it?” A little red
had quickened suddenly again in her
Lightly she touched Wain-
right on the shoulder, patted Alice's
hand, signaled meaningly over her
shoulder to Lois Wharton and Torrey
Bradence.
“Go back to your game, my good
friends,” she said, “and I will show
you just exactly how it was done!”
Half protesting, half acquiescing,
the four people filed back to the card
table. Softly, in a little white blur
and swish of skirts, Helen Tennant
dropped back into her old seat in the
far corner of the settle.
“Your deal, Lois,” she said.
“Oh, why, yes, of course, so it was,”
stammered Lois, and picked up the
cards.
Her trailing sleeve dragging the ta-
ble sent a dozen cards scuttling to the
floor.
Four heads, four pairs of hands,
bent instantly to their recovery.
When they lifted again the settle was
empty.
“Gad!” cried Wainright, and sprang
for the French windows. They were
locked from the outside!
On the terrace just beyond, a surly
dog barked as if a foot had grazed
him. Cleft as though a moonbeam
had blazed it, a path opened through
the phlox garden.
“Gad!” said Wainright.
“Gad!” said Bradence.
Snatching, dragging, tugging at the
latch of a long unused door, the two
women rushed their way to the edge
of the cliff looking down on the shad-
owed cove. :
Like a greedy arm reaching out for
a handful of silver, the dark dock
stretched to the molten tide. In the
hollow of the greedy dock’s hand lay
a silver boat with a flopping silver
sail. In the shadow of the silver sail
loomed the black silhouette of a man.
White as a wraith passing, a woman
ran down the dock, toward him, and
merged into his shadow.
Just for an instant a man’s voice
rang out in a single clarion note of
laughter.
Then, like a silver sponge wiping
out a silver message from a silver
slate, the great moon gathered boat,
man, and woman to its bright breast
and burnished them from sight.
Wainright gave a little sharp whis-
tle under his breath.
“By heavens! It is Nordman!” he
said. “Id know that laugh at the
ends of the earth!” He turned to his
wife. Her face was white as a sheet.
“There—there was a babe in the
man’s arms!” she gasped. “A tiny,
chortling, new-born sort of thing!”
“It—it lay in the curve of the man’s
neck like a—like a snuggling lamb,”
stammered Lois Wharton.
“God help her!” said Torrey Bra-
dence. :
Wainright gave a little chuckle.
“It would seem that He alredy has!”
he said.—By Eleanor Hallowell Ab-
bott, in the American Magazine.
Fifty Cents at the Sesqui.
Philadelphia. — Exposition officials
have branded as ridiculous reports
that the visitor must spend from $35
| to $150 for admissions to see the fea- |
tures of the Sesqui-Centennial Inter-
national Exposition.
For nothing more than the fifty
cent admission fee the Exposition
grounds, it has been pointed out, the
following interesting features and ex-
hibits, valued at $100,000,000 may be
seen:
The palace of liberal arts and manu-
fctures with many acres of interest-
ing sights; the palace of fine arts, a
tremendous building housing art
treasures from the four corners of the
earth; the palace of the U. S. Gov-
ernment, machinery, mines, metallux-
gy and transportation, housing the
most extensive mechanical exhibit
ever seen under one roof; the palace
of agriculture, food, civic and foreign
exhibits containing the $100,000 Jap-
anese pearl pagoda and the finest pro-
ducts of the best craftsmen of the
world; the palace of education, Penn-
sylvania and other State buildings;
and scores of other structures bidding
the visitor welcome without charge.
Free organ concerts are given every
day at noon in the auditorium. The
Sesqui-Centennial organ is the larg- |
est in the world. Camp Anthony
Wayne, a model army camp, is within
the grounds, free to visitors, and the
great League Island Navy Yard bids
a warm welcome to all guests. The
daily program lists many attractions.
As a visitor from the wést recently
put it: “The Exposition is a liberal
education for half a dollar.”
We Do.
Printed on the back of a program
recently put over by the children of
the Petersburg school we note the fol-
lowing:
“Do you realize that:—
“The uneducated laborers earn on
an average of $982 per year, or for
forty years a total of $39,280? The
hight school graduates earn on an
average of $1,729 a year, or for forty
years a total of $69,160. This educa-
tion required twelve years of school.
In 2160 days the school added $29,880
to the income for forty years, making
each day in school worth $13.83.
“Tis education forms the common
mind; just as the twig is bent, so is
the tree inclined.”—Alexander Pope. |
What we are looking forward to: is
“every eligible student in”—Alaska—
“in the High school.” And every eli-
gible student in school.
Marriage Licenses.
Robert IL. Baney and Annie E.
Oversly, Philipsburg.
David P. Harpster and Sarah G.
Saucerman, Pennsylvania Furnace.
Harold A. Wion and Mildred P.
Shultz, Bellefonte.
Merrill L. Johnstonbaugh and Hel-
en E. Albright, Bellefonte.
——Subscribe for the “Watchman.”
BELL TELEPHONE COMPANY
ANNOUNCES SUBSTANTIAL
RATE REDUCTIONS.
Important changes involving a gen~
eral readjustment of long distance tel- -
ephone rates, and in the evening and
night period during which reduced
rates apply, are announced by The
Bell Telephone Company of Pennsyl-
vania to become effective October 1.
So far as they affect the service be-
tween Pennsylvania points, the new
rates were filed with the Pennsylva~
nia Public Service Commission Mon-
day, August 30, and if approved will
become effective October 1, at the
same time the new inter-state rates
will take effect.
These service and rate changes are
a part of a broad plan for service im-
provement which, with similar chang-
es to be made in other parts of the
country, will result in a saving to the
telephone users of the United States
of approximately $3,000,000 a year.
To points one hundred and fifty
or more miles distant the rates are
substantially reduced,—the grester
the distance, the greater the reduc-
tion. A few rates for distances be-
tween twenty-four and one hundred
and ten miles will be increased to
make the schedule consistent through-
| out, but in these cases the increase of
the basic station-to-station rate will
be not more than five cents.
A comparison of the old and new
rates to some of the principal, long
distance points follow, the rate in
each case being the station-to-station
rate which is charged when the call is
made for a distant telephone number
and not for some specific person:
Between Bellefonte, Pa., and Ha-
gerstown, Md., old rate 60c., new rate
65¢.
Between Bellefonte and Corning,
N. Y., old rate 65c., new rate 70c.
Between Bellefonte and Pittsburgh,
old rate 85c., new rate 85c.
Between Bellefonte and New York,
old rate $1.85, new rate $1.20.
Between Bellefonte and Chicago,
IlL, old rate $3.35, new rate $2.55.
Between Bellefonte and San Fran-
cisco, Cal., old rate $15.20, new rate
$10.40.
Long distance cables, carrier sys-
tems, vacuum tube repeaters, loading
coils and other improved devices and
methods, resulting from continuous
scientific research and development
applied to the telephone industry,
have effected economies on the longer
circuits, and have a share in making
these reductions possible.
Coincident with the change in. rate,
the period during which reduced rates
will apply on station-to-station calls
will be lengthened by one and one-half
hours.
Reduced rates on station-to-station
calls will begin at 7 p. m. instead of
8:30 p. m., as formerly. Between 7 p.
m. and 8:30 p. m. the rates will be ap-
proximately 75 per cent. of the day
station-to-station rates, and from
8:30 p. m. to 4:30 a. m. about 50 per
cent. of the day rates. These dis-
counts will apply where the day sta-
tion-to-station rate is 40 cents or
more, with a minimum reduced rate of
35 cents. Because of the unsatisfac-
tory service conditions which it
brought about, the existing . midnight.
discount is discontinued.
Under the new schedule station-to-
station calls may be made at substan-
tial reductions as early as 7 p. m., and
persons wishing to take advantage of
the lowest rates of the 24 hours may
make their calls any time after 8:30
p.- m. Thus, although the midnight
discount is discontinued, the longer
reduced rate period and the substan-
tial reductions applying in basic rates
to distant points mean that this
change will make little difference in
. the cost of night calls.
By this move the company expects
‘to improve service by eliminatigg
| complications at midnight which have
' resulted in delays and put a heavy
! burden on its facilities and employees.
| At the more important centers it has
! meant retaining a large force of
young women operators to care for a
sudden and short-lived burst of traf-
| fie. During much of the time the op-
erators kept on duty in anticipation
of this temporary rush have had little
. to do, then a short period in which
‘they have been entirely too busy to
give the best service, and following
that a sharp tapering off in business
at an early morning hour when few of
the girls could return to their homes.
With this condition growing more
i pronounced, the company has been
facing a difficult and serious respon-
sibility. It has become necessary to
; maintain dormitories in the larg-
' er central offices in which many opera-
i tors, required only for a short period,
have been housed for the rest of the
| night. These tours of duty have, of
course, been undesirable and hard to
i fill. The spreading of the long dis-
| tance traffic over the lengthened re-
| duced rate period will relieve this sit-
“uation.
{ Another change that will be wel-
comed is the extension of the privi-
lege of reversing charges to include
| station-to-station calls—whether plac-
'ed during the day, evening or night—
where the rate is 25 cents or more.
{In the last few hours the use of long
, distance service has been increating
constantly and many situations now
arise where the reversal of charges is
| of advantage to the customer who
calls for a certain number. Hence this
privilege is an added convenience and
saving to the public.
Further information as to the new
‘long distance rates and practices are
‘ obtainable at the local offices of the
{ Telephone company.
Tractions Aid in Parking.
Many electric railways are going
into the automobile parking business.
They provide parking facilities on
; the outskirts of the city and supply
tickets good for a ride into the city
and back for a fixed sum. This fur-
nishes the motorist with better park-
ing space than he can find in the city,
gives him a quick ride to his place of
business,—and relieves traffic conges-
tion.
——The Watchman prints all the
news fit to read.