Democratic watchman. (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1855-1940, November 25, 1927, Image 2
‘ Bellefonte, Pa., November 25, 1927. SEUSS The Punctuation Points. Six little marks from school are we, Very important, all agree Filled to the brim with mystery, Six little marks from school. One little mark is round and small, But where it stands the voice must fall, At the close of a sentence, all Place this little mark at school: One little mark, with gown a-trailing, Holds up the voice, and never failing, Tells you not long to pause when hailing This little mark at school: If out of breath you chance to meet Two little dots, both round and neat, Pause, and these tiny guardsmen greet— These little marks from school: ‘When shorter pauses are your pleasure, One trails his sword—takes half the meas- ure, Then speeds you on to seek new treasure; This little mark from school: One little mark, ear-shaped, implies, “Keep up the voice—await replies;” To gather information tries This little mark from school: One little mark, with an exclamation, Presents itself to your observation, And leaves the voice at an elevation, This little mark from school: Six little marks! Be sure to heed us; Carefully study, write, and read us; For you can never cease to need us, Six little marks from school! Selected. THE “TWISTER.” “Mother, I've told you time and again that we've never had a ‘twister’ in this place,” Dan Rushton smiled down on his mother’s anxious face. “But that’s not saying that we nev- er shall. Loetie says — Her tall sor brought his hand down vigorously on the table. “Leotie!” he exploded, “to hear her talk, one would think we had a tor- nado out here every week. Can’t you see that all she wants isto get you back East to slave yourself to death for those spoiled youngsters of hers?” After this usual outburst Dan went good-humoredly out to work, leaving his mother still trying to read the sig- nificance of the ominous cloud bank forming in the west. Behind her Dan’s young wife sang as she rocked ‘Dan Junior: The baby’s grandmother marveled that anyone could be indifferent with such a men- ace boiling up on the horizon. In the face of such coolness she was con- strained to hide her own anxiety. Mrs. Rushton could not understand herself. It baffled her that she who as a sturdy young widow had battled alone and fearlessly in bringing up her family, should have come here to find herself a prey to unreasoning fears that would not-down. Her first weeks at Midvale Farm had been filled with sheer delight. The modern litle home, with Dan and his mild quiet-voiced wife and one cher- ub of a baby, had seemed a fair hav- en after the continual turmoil in her daughter’s house. It had been pleas- ant, for a while, to sit idly watching Rita’s deft hands do the work. But although she was forced to ad- mit that she had never been so hap- pily situated, the idea of forced idle- nes did not appeal to Mrs. Rushton. The knitting and the tatting she had always longed to do, even the pastime of watching baby, began to pall. “I never expected to find myself merely sitting around and doing noth- ing,” she protested at last. “I'm not cut out for it.” “Well, you'll have to get used to it,” the young people had declared. ‘You have done more than your share of work already.” : Life at Loetie’s, with an expectant brood of six to be waited on, had cer- tainly been strenuous, but when had her life been anything else? Her own babies, scattered now, had scarcely been off her hands before Leotie’s had come to assert their claim, and they had been asserting it lustily ever since. At first the idea of deserting them, of leaving Leotie to manage her own house and family alone, had seemed preposterous. Dan, who had come East on his first visit in years, saw things diferently. He stood firm in his purpose to take his mother back with im. “But you don’t know how busy Leo- tie is with outside things. She is al- ways writing papers for her club or do- ing settlement work or speaking at some of the guilds” the mother had reasoned. “I know I didn’t help much but Leotie certainly needs someone to look after the children when she can’t be with them.’ “Now mother,” Dan had cut 1n, “you don’t want to worry over Leo- tie’s children not getting all that’s com-. ing to them.” He chuckled at the rec- ollection of clamorous mealtime scenes in his sister’s home. “Yes sir, those youngsters will never get left; it isn’t in them to permit it. I hope your being away will make Leotie stay home for a change.” So, against her better judgment and to her daughter’s consternation, the little grandmother found = herself packed up and hustled off to what seemed to her untraveled mind very far west. And it was inevitable that she should have periods of remorse- ful wondering about the grandchildren she had deserted; whether Leotie got them off to school in time, who mend- ed Joe’s torn stockings and who saw that thin, petulant little Allie drank the milk she needed. It was but naur- al that, not recovered in mind and body from the strain of life back there her thoughts should turn to Leotie’s final warnings about the cyclone men- ace, Leotie knew her mother, the un- compromising New England con- 1 science and it was to these that she made her last appeal. “I Sola think mother would be afraid to fly inthe face of Providence that way she would remark in her | mother’s hearing, “to exchange a safe, comfortable home for a buried exist- ence on a farm in the cyclone zone. They tell me there are rattlesnakes there, too, and that the summers are one long sizzle.” : Dan had never supposed for 2 min- ute that his mother had taken Leo- tie’s words seriously. His sister's knowledge of the country he had come to call home was sc.vague as to be amusing. Nevertheless, there was never a day when the transplanted New England grandmother did not think of Leotie’s warning. It was not until spring was on its way, with its sunshine and perfumed breezes, and also with occasional high winds and sudden violent rainstorms that Loetie’s words came back to trouble mother. Every black mass of clouds recalled the former’s vague forebodings concerning the dire pen- alties visited on those who forsook the plain path of duty. Back in the sheltered New England village where rain fell in gentle driz- zles and the force of every wind was broken by various obstructions, they had never known storms such as were so common in this vast, open country. The sky which appeared nearer and more immense here, was awesome enough when it smiled on the farm- house and its puny occupants. Its frown completely destroyed the good woman’s morale. So it came about that her guilty fears culminated in one se- cret dread of that mysterious air monster, the tornado. The time came when she never went to bed without a careful scanning of the heavens, nor slept a night without getting up to peer apprehensively out of her wes- tern window. She began to see the hand of a pur- suing Nemesis in every squall that threatened. When a burst of thunder shook the skies, or great drops of rain or hail began to bombard the windows, she shrank in the most Feltared corner with a prayer on her ips. Had she dared to acknowledge her terror she would have insisted on taking everyone to the cellar as the safest place to meet the peril she dreaded. She shuddered at the un- concern of the others, who sat casu- ally on the porch or otherwise expos- ed themselves. Afterwards when the destruction failed to materialize, she was fervently thankful that she had been able to keep from betraying the full extent of her weakness. . In time she picked up considerable information about the dreaded cy- clone. When she heard a conversation begin, “When we had that cyclone down in”—she invariably drew nearer. She learned the hours of the day when wind storms were most likely to arrive. She tried to picture the fun- nelshaped cloud that marked them. She searched the papers for ac- counts_of tornados elsewhere, and when she found one drank in the mea- ger details with an almost moorbid thirst. Later she located the stricken places on the map. So each cyclone casualty that summer had an unknown but sympathetic mourner in the little grandmother at Midvale Farm, - What comfort was it to her to be told that the genuine death-breathing tornado is rare, its swathe compar- atively narrow, and the distriet in which they lived considered immune from its ravages .Her fears would not be 1casoned away. If, as Leotie seem- ed to predict there was a judgment In store for her, what could reason- ing avail ? Dan began to fear that his mother was homesick. “As soon as the roads dry up we'll get the car out and give you a real look at this country.” ne promised But keenly as she looked forward to these excursions, the edge of her en- Joyment could be dulled by the least threat of bad weather. If she must die she preferred to die in-doors. Gradually, as the long, bright sum- mer days stole on, she began, almost unsciously, to recover her poise. The weather became more settled. Al- though she did not trust them, the broad, blue heavens were not so con- stantly menacing. She never tired of watching the changes in the’ rolling fields. The regularity of the long rows of machine-planted corn fascinated her and she marveled at the rapid growth of the slender shoots into quivering green blades. ; Perhaps the stimulus of a well-or- dered household, together with the long hours on shady porch, were do- ing their part to foster an inner sense of calm and security. At any rate, Mrs. Rushton began to believe that her prayers for an increase of faith were being answered. She might even have succeeded in throwing off the ever-present burden of Leotie’s family cares if she had been permitted to help ever so little in Dan’s home. But Dan was firm; he was convinced that garden work was too heavy for her, although she did contrive on the slip to pull a few weeds now and then. She longed to help in the shining kitchen, but there she was allowed only “ sitting down jobs,” as she termed them scornfully. Even the baby was too well trained to need much care. When his grand- mother was allowed to hold him, as a special concession, she knew that it was at the risk of spoiling the boy. Once, when he was recovering after a quite serious illness, she guiltily wel- comed the chance to keep the fretful little fellow on her lap while his mother caught up with her work. “I wonder why it is,” she said to Dan that day at dinner time, “that this baby seems sweeter than any of Leotie’s ever were? Yet, I was fond enough of them, too.” “I guess maybe it’s because you have more time to enjoy this little fellow.” Dan reached down to tweak a bare, pink toe; “1 never saw you still long enough to enjoy anything at Leotie’s.” Dan could not think of his mother’s life at his sister's without a hot wave of indignation sweeping over him. It gave him increasing sat~ isfaction to see her getting the rest she deserved. “I believe you are beginning to pick Installation of New Bell Telephone. Cable in Western Pennsylvania is Engineering Feat About 6000 Miles of New Wire at a Cost of $200,000 is Being Rapidly Constructed in the Mountainous Region West of Pittsburgh Upper—Rehuilding pole line between McDonald and Burgettstown. 1 Right—The poles were erected by derricks mounted on Bell trucks. fo i i By C. J. MCINTYRE - Over the wild and hilly districts of Western Pennsylvania and traveling almost due west from Pittsburgh ‘goes the new telephone cable which is being placed by the Bell Telephone Company of Pennsylvania at a cost of approximately $200,000. Glinting in the sun on mountain tops in some places and through gloomy woods and rocky gorges in others, the new cable which will form an ul¥mate link in the system of telephone ecommuni- cation between Pittsburgh and Steu- benville, Ohio, is being constructed under great natural handicaps. Mod- ern construction machines and equip- ment are being used to rapidly over- come obstacles which would have tried the patience of the pyramid-building Egyptians. : Carnegie and Burgettstown, both in Pennsylvania, are the terminals of the new link of cable. While the distance from one terminal to the other is but twenty miles, the natural disadvan- tages of this rocky and hilly region to all types of pole line construction have contributed to making the in- stallatien of the cable a remarkable engineering feat. There is also need for protecting the telephone wires from the effects of the high-tension electric wires and the burning culm banks. found in this region. : About six thousand miles of copper dg - . wire will be installed. It will be used: for replacing all telephone lines now in place between the terminal towns and will also provide additional lines for new telephones and more toll lines in. the section. Nothing but a heavy cable would be adequate to satisfac- torily handle the great volume of tele- phone calls that every day pass over west. a : The intervening country between Pittsburgh and Steubenville has been growing rapidly of recent years and the weather marks on the horizon in- dicate that this growth will be con- tinuous in the future. Additional wires in the new cable will take care of this growth for a long period. While the greater demands for tele- phone service are a large factor in the placing of the new cable, the present construction will also enable the Tele- phone Company to replace the open wire lines and the older cables now in use. In the section between Car- negie and McDonald the present cable, which has been in use for several years, will be taken down and re- placed. While the older cable is still able to adequately serve its purpose the time is not far off where a contin- uation of the old lines might cause a let-down in the high standard of Bell telephone service and a consequent in- convenience to telephone subscribers. The open teléphone lines between McDonald and Burgettstown also have about reached their capacity. It is felt by telephone officials that cable is preferable in this section and the old lines are accordingly being re- moved and replaced by the new con- struction. Cable will protect the tele- phone lines from the ‘effects of the many high-tension electric wires in the area and is a more substantial insurance against injury to the tele- phone plant from storm causes. H. L. Miller, the construction fore- man who is in charge of the work for the Telephone Company, estimates that about 4000 miles of toll wire C ” © re these wires from Pittsburgh to points Upper—DBringing up the cable reels by tractor between Carnegie and # McDonald. £ ; 8 hotly he Ey and 2000 miles of wire connecting with subseribers’ telephones will be placed. This is sufficient to build a complete single line from Pittsburgh to San Francisco and back again, with enough left over to run another com- plete circuit across the state to Phila- delphia. While the amount of copper alone in this work is enough to make this one of the premier construction jobs of the year, the difficulties en- countered daily are sufficient to raise it to the rank of an outstanding en- gineering accomplishment. In general the new cable will fol- low the route of the P. C. C, and S. L. Railroad. In places where right-of- way privileges are secured in appro- priate places a little off the main road and where the lines can be better pro- tected by avoiding burning culm banks or high-tension wires, detours are being made. New poles are being transported and delivered by teams while the cable reels are being transported by motor tractors. These motor tractors are very’ powerful and are able to carry heavy loads across broken ground that might be impassable by any other means. All deliveries of material are being handled just so far in advance of the work to maintain steady prog- ress and to insure its being carefully cared for. About sixty-five per cent of the ‘work is already finished. While the job: was not started until toward the end of last ‘April it is planned to have it completed by January of 1928. The towns on the route of the cable in- clude Carnegie, Ewingsville, Walkers Mills, Rennerdale, Oakdale, Nobles- town, Sturgeon, McDonald and Bur- / gettstown. up some now, mother,” he :aid, pull- ing his chair up to the table. It did not occur to him that his mother might be in a bondage of spirit, a bondage more confining than that from which he had freed her. “I believe I'll drive over to Mol- ville this afternoon.” Dan pushed back his chair and went to the door. “It looks as if this fine weather might break before long. Anybody want to go?” “When I get baby to sleep I'm go- ing to take a nap myself,” said his wife. “I’ve hardly closed my eyes for three nights. Maybe if you'd put him in his coach, mother, and wheel his around the yard a little he'd drop off.” ! After Rita had gone into her room and closed the door, the grandmother stood doubtfully gazing at the grey carriage standing a little distance: from the house, in the cool shade of a great pine tree. “It seems so lonesome out there for him, Of course he's safe enough. Nothing can get into him and he can’t get out of the coach. His mother said she could hear him from the window.” She finally decided to throw herself down in the hammock on the porch, meaning to keep the precious sleeper in- sight. But the day was breath- lessly hot, and her nights, too had been disturbed. The song of the wren in the pine trees, the contented chirp- ing from the chicken coops, and the droning of insects, soon became. a jumble of confused sound, and with- out meaning to, she fell asleep. She woke to find a sharp breeze stirring the vines above her head. And the sky, so cloudless a few minutes before—or was it hours—had grown dark and tlreatening. More from habit than from any con- scious plan, she went through the house to the west window, which was her lookout. An inky black curtain, with ragged edges, was slowly clos- ing over that part of the horizon within her range. The branches of the tall trees behind the house had begun to lash one anuther violently. The tasseled corn-tops in the near-by fields swayed and twisted until they looked like creamy surf on a cast, green sea. Suddenly a few big drops broke against the screen and splashed on the sill. Then she remembered the baby! Was he still outside alone? A vivid flash startled her, followed by a succession of sharp peals that rattled the windows. Ordinarily such conditions would have deprived the old lady of all power of motion, but now she slammed back the window and made for the door. She had not a shadow of doubt that the long ex- pected tornado had come, and here she was facing it alone. It would take time to wake Rita. Heedless of the blinding fury about her, she rushed out and straight across to the big 1 brance of the baby, met her pine tree. Snatching the drowsy baby from his warm nest, she stumbled back. Her daughter-in-law, who had sprung up with a paralyzing remem- as, drenched and panting, she reached the door. As it slammed after her, a new, rushing noise above the din, and a formidable jar shook the house. The gloom had increased. The windows, blurred with wavy rivulets, failed to admit what light there was. Rita, completely unnerved for once, drew her mother-in-law down beside her and held out her hands mechanically for ne baby. Mrs. Rushton shook her head. “What can we do? Shall we go down to the basement? We can’t ‘stay here!” moaned the younger wom- an, in the first short lull. i Mrs. Rushton, with amazing calm- ness, alternately soothed mother and baby. “There, there!” she comforted both, “I have an idea the worst will i soon be over.” The uproar had quieted, though it had not altogether ceased, when Dan, ! dripping and breathless, burst into the kitchen. His wife clutched his soggy sleeve. “O Dan,” she half sobbed, “where were you?” He looked round at them all. When he spoke, his voice held an awed note. “I stopped down the road, here, in Patton’s barn,” he said. “Looks like a little cyclone had gone through here. I see the corncrib and garage are both down, and the big pine out there has” Rita interrupted with a frightened gasp. “Did you know the boy’s carriage was left out under that tree? It's crushed as flat as”—He took a stride toward the baby and buried his face in the folds of the child’s dress. “I tell you it took something out of me to go over there and look in it,” he said hoarsely, as he raised his head. He stood up, wiping his forehead. “Were you frightened ?”” he asked. He turned with surprise from the white and shaken Rita, to his mother, be- ginning to prepare the boby’s food. “Were you frightened, mother?” he questioned again. Mrs. Rushton turned from the stove, the baby deftly turned under her left arm. There was a tranquil light, a sort of ecstacy on her face. “Frightened ?” she repeated almost absently. “A little,” she answered. “Rita was some upset, too. It took her so sudden, you see. But I was all right when I knew baby was safe.” She could not expect these others to understand her new freedom. They could not know that it was now pla‘n to her why she had been myste- riously led to leave Leotie and come here; that an all-wise Providence had known all along that someone else’s man race. baby would have need of her. The dreaded Nemesis has come—and spared her. She would never fear it! again. i She laid her grandson in his crib and began to busy herself about sup- per. Rita came silently to help, he: | eyes following her mother-in-law with a wondering respect.—Exchange. ————— ee ert Sees Future as Age of Machines London—Ballrooms and night club , habitues of the future will enjoy their dancing sitting down, thinks Prof. A. M. Low, who has been taking a scien- tific peek into the future of the ha- There will be little use for legs or arms, he contends, because in the age of the future almost everything will be done by machinery. It will be a pill age, when all foods will be concentrat- ed and a meal will go down with one gulp. “In the distant future, when constant disuse will have atrophied our legs we shall probably take our daneing sitting quietly, while drugs and revolv- ing lights give us all the sensations of rhythm without the stuffy atmos- phere of the ballroom and the cafes,” Professor Low asserts. The minute research of modern scientists enables them to realize the remarkable part played by rhyth- mical motion in the universe, he says. “Present-day dancing is merely the result of wartime hysteria,” avers the professor. “Women, in particular, are generally more or less hysterical at the end of a dance which has excited them and chased the cares of life into oblivion. “This period will pass, and we shall find that more and more intoxicating effects, such as sweet perfumes, oscil- lating floors and curious foods will be necessary before we can enjoy rhythm. “I look forward to the time when it will be possible to broadcast sensa- tions direct to the mind.” Wood Chopping Replaces Golf on Chicago Links. Woodchopping has been substituted for golf by a group of Chicago busi- ness men and educators. With axes over their shoulders, they sally forth each week-end to match their skill against each other. They count strokes, as they slash through logs, just as the strokes are counted in golf. They say an after- noon of chopping is far superior as a recreation to playing 18 holes of golf. To win a game of woodchopping, one must cut through a certain type and size of log with fewer strokes than his opponent. ——The “Watchman” is the most readable paper published. Try it. FARM NOTES. Alfalfa hay is the biggest aid there is in reducing the cost of making beef —Save the machinery. Put away all machinery not in use after oiling and greasing to prevent rust. Make: note of all needed repairs. Genuine crude petroleum, just as it: comes from the oil well and before it. has been processed, is the most effec~ tive oil for treatment of hog lice and mange. —Roosters are confined or sold as soon as the breeding season is past. Hens that ars not mated lay as good, and the quality of the eggs is im~ proved. A clean droppings board is neces- sary if the eggs are to be kept clean. Some poultry owners now use a screen that keeps the fowl off the drop- pings board during the day. —Mulch the Strawberries as soon as the ground becomes frozen. Mulch the strawberry bed with clean wheat, oat or buckwheat straw, putting three or four inches of straw all over the TOW, —Do not mix disease with milk. No person affected with any contagious disease shold be allowed to have any- thing to do with the handling of milk, say Pensylvania State College dairy specialists. —Thin the Woodlot. The ring of the axe and the whine of the saw will soon be heard in many woodlots. This is the chance to thin the woodlot and at the same time get a good sup- ply of firewood. ; i —Exposure Weakens Ladders. See that the apple picking ladders are un- der cover. If these are made of light wood, as they should be, one winter's exposure may weaken them enough to make them unsafe. While chickens will sand neglect and sometimes do fairly well under primitive conditions in warm weather, it is very important to provide proper housing if you are going to make the chicken business pay in winter. —Feed Laying Ration. Many farm- ers cut down the normal egg produc- tion of their poultry flock because of the fear of getting the birds too fat. No hen can be too fat to lay if fed a laying mash and good clean scratch grain. : ‘ —Cure Seed Corn. Is your seed corn safe from Jack Frost’s damaging in- fluence? Keep it hanging in a dry, warm place where there is good cir- culation of air until it is thoroughly dry and past all danger of freezing or molding. Care should be taken not to feed the birds too much during the early part of the fattening period. For the first few days of the diet feed lightly three times a day. For the rest of the period give the birds all they will eat three times a day but do not leave it before them. A 4-pound cockerel should add a pound in two weeks. Four pounds of grain ration may pro- duce a pound gain. »=~Early autumn: is the time poultry raisers will usually find it advantage- ous to fatten and dispose of surplus cockerels as well as early hatched pullets of a quality not desired in the: flock of winter layers. Market poultry prices are usually highest just betore Thanksgiving and Christmas. Another advantage in selling surplus stock fairly early in the season is found in the saving of considerable food ma- terial. —Dr. M. A. Jull, pouitry husband- man, United States Department of Agriculture, recommends as a fatten- ing ration a soft mash, measured by weight composed of corn, 4 parts: oatmeal, 2 parts; middlings, 2 parts; and beef scrap, 1 part. The ground grain should be mixed thoroughly and moistened with sour skim milk or but- termilk. Milk is excellent in fatten- ing mixtures and about 2 pounds, or a quart of milk is used to each pound of mash. : ‘Experienced fatteners sometimes keep poultry on the fattening feed for as long as three weeks; but in most commercial fattening plants the birds are fattened for from 7 to 10 days. There is often a difference of 5 cents a pound between the market price of thin and plump birde. However, far- mers in many parts of the country may not find such’ advantageous mar-- keting opportunities and the prices received may not pay for the expense and bother of fattening the birds. In such cases it may prove wisest to sell’ direct with no attempt to fatten the fowls. Many such birds are bought at the markets by fatteners and condi-- tioned and fattened for resale. The causes of most early deaths in live stock fall into two general clas-- ses: 1. Those capable of considerable reduction, chiefly through eradication of diseases among the mature stock, proper hygiene, sanitary isolation, and medical treatment. In this class are tuberculosis, acute respiratory dis- eases, certain acute contagious dis- eases, and some diseases caused by animal parasites. 2. Those capable of very great re-- duction through proper feeding, care: and sanitation, such as acute diges- tive diseases, goiter trouble, prema- turity (if not extreme), and many forms of animal parasitism. Besides the two important classes mentioned there are some other condi- tions, such as malformation, extreme: feebleness or extreme prematurity, and certain accidents during birth. These conditions are little influenced by treatment, but represent a very- small proportion to total loss. —In removing silage from the silo, only enough is thrown down for im- mediate needs and this is taken in thin layers over the entire surface, the: aim being to allow as little as possible to become spoiled by exposure to the: air. The surface must be left smooth and compact, with the center slightly higher than the sides. If the corn was not well distributed in the silo some care needs to be exercised in mixing the silage on removal to keep the quality uniform and avoid danger: of overfeeding.