Bellefonte, Pa., April 6, 1928. — WHY BUNNIES BRING EASTER EGGS. There was once a naughty bunny Who was always being funny And kept the land about him in a con- : stant state of awe. His father and his mother These pranks would try to cever To keep him out of prison and the clutch- es of the law. On one morning bright and early, ‘When the cops were getting surly, He started to discover what sad mischief he could do. Soon he saw a blackbird’s nest, And he could not eat or rest Until he'd dyed the eggs thercin a lovely dark sea blue. He was so pleased at his joking That he said, “I'll go round poking And ask my little bunny friends to help me gather more.” So they stole bird eggs galore And put them by, in store, Till all the nests were empty and the birds were threatening gore. Then a burly bunny “copper” Said he’d quickly put a stopper To such dire depredations as were never heard before. So, much rather than get caught, These bold robbers straighway sought A man who took the eggs to town and #nld them in a store. Now, this raised an awful clatter, All their kin began to chatter And said to steal such pretty eggs a great and mighty sin. But the bandits made it seem There was money in the scheme, So for wealth and sordid profit all rab- hits now join in. So all this explains the habit ‘Why eggs are brought by a rabbit And given little boys and girls on_Easter every year. And the lesson seems to show ‘It wae all a case of “dough,” Yet eggs and little bunnies white have have found their proper sphere. —New York Herald. PARTNERS OF THE AIR. One hundred miles to San Antonia: one hour’s travel for the big aero- plane he was piloting. Lieut. Dave Shaw nodded in a satisfied manner while his gaze lifted from the map case and involuntarily run over the instrument board in front, checking the behavior of the motor that was drawing the plane like an immense projectile through the air. Shaw looked back at his mechanic, who with a confidence in his pilot that was superb was stretched out in the rear cockpit, sound asleep, for the flight from El Paso had been long and tiresome. The pilot's gaze traveled back past the tail to the aeroplane that was trailing him. The second machine rode to the side, slightly above and perhaps fifty feet behind him, seeming to hang sta- tionary in the leaden sky, yet keep- ing its effortless, hundred-mile gait. As Shaw watched, the rear plane sud- denly dropped two hundred feet. His own machine jerked, and he involun- tarily corrected for the air current. When he next looked back the oth- er plane was far above him. The sudden shifts of position occurred fre- quently, for the planes were flying at an altitude of two thousand feet just beneath. some frowning storm clouds, and the air was choppy. On either side and to the rear the black clouds seemed to stretch immense fingers down to the Texas landscape that spread, barren, mesquite-covered and desolate, in all directions. Those fin- gers, some of them several miles in depth, were showers that were soak- ing the regions they covered. One suddenly appeared a short distance in front of the speeding aeroplane. * Shaw raised his arm vertically above his head. The pilot of the fol- lowing plane acknowledged the signal in a similar manner and accompanied it with a friendly grin that at the dis- tance was little more to Shaw than a gleam of even teeth. Shaw banked his machine, and the other followed obediently. The planes began to cir- cle the edges of the shower. There were a few volleys of stinging rain- drops, the heavy, wet smell of water- charged air, and then they were clear. After checking his progress by the map again, Shaw looked at the clock on the instrument board. It was late afternoon, and already the illuminat- ed figures and hands of the instru- ment were beginning to gleam. Dusk was near—the early dusk of autumn; in the half gloom of the storm its approach had been unheralded. Shaw opened the throttle a bit more. It would not do to let darkness find two planes still in the air. That was bad business. The leading machine drew ahead, but kept its increased lead only for an instant, for the pilot of the following plane had noticed the ma- neuvre and increased his speed. In a way the actions of the two aeroplanes in teaming so well togeth- er were characteristic of the spirit that existed between the pilots. Whenever they were mentioned in the Air Service, i Shaw and Lieutenant Burke, the pilot of the second machine, were linked together. Young in years, both of them, but old in the ways of the air, they had met over the German lines. With a crip- pled plane Shaw was gamely trying to beat off two Fokkers. He was vir- tually helpless, hut was fighting to make his end as inconvenient as pos- sible for his antagonists when like a blot a Spad from another American squadron had dropped from a higher altitude and with a hail of machine- gun bullets neatly put one Fokker out of the running. There had been a flash of wings in the sun, a swift turn and tke missiles from the newcomer’s guns had caught the second Fokker squarely in spite of its brilliant re- versement. Shaw had then limped back over the lines escorted by Burke’s Spad. That was their introduction. It had occurred four years before, and since then Shaw and Burke had been inseparable. It was the most natural thing in the world for the two to be chosen for the mission they were now | performing: ferrying in to the repair depot at San Antonio two planes that had seen hard service in the maneuv- res along the border. They had left El Paso seven hours before and the next day were to return, flying two new planes for the use of the squad- ron there, of which they were mem- bers. ’ Shaw looked back again and noticed that Burke’s plane was some distance below and farther behind than usual. Then his body stiffened. The propel- ler of Burke’s plane, which had been an almost invisible blur, was now re- volving so slowly as to be easily dis- cernible. Then the nose of the plane dropped, and it banked quickly and headed for a clearing in the mesquite a short distance to the rear—the only spot in several miles where an aero- plane could safely land. Shaw knew as he banked his ma- chine and followed that Burke’s mot- or had failed, forcing a landing, for Burke had plenty of gasoline. Motor trouble was to be expected, perhaps, for the planes had had hard usage through the summer. Shaw dove for the ground with his motor half open and reached the level of the mesquite some distance ahead of Burks. He skimmed low over the clearing, picking the best spot for a landing so that Burke could see by the course of Shaw’s machine the best way to land and would not have to worry about the fitness of the ground. As Shaw opened the throttle wide and made a swift upward turn at the end of the clearing he feared that Burke would be unable to glide to the landing place because of insufficient altitude. His premonition was cor- rect. Even as he looked he saw the plane crash into the low mesquite trees some distance hehind the cleared space. He could not hear the sound of the impact because of the roar of his motor, but he could imagine it. The wings of Shaw’s machine swept to the vertical, and centrifugal force glued him to the seat as he banked and turned into the cleared space again. He snapped the throttle back. The landing was easy. The big trees of the machine did not mire in the storm-beaten ground. The mechanic, who had awakened when Shaw first tive, required all his strength to move; they were like the reins of a runaway horse. But Shaw grimly kept on, on. He was soaked to the skin, but his exertions made him un- comfortably warm. : i And through it all was the light ‘ning that cut the storm like swords. The crash of thunder close at hand drowned the full-throated roar of the “motor and struck painfylly on Shaw’s eardrums. Twilight changed to night, | jand the thick darkness gathered. Shaw was flying into a stinging black pit that was now and again dazzlingly illuminated by the lightning, which ‘only accentuated the wet blackness ; that followed. He was flying at five hundred feet now, trusting to his compass in the | periods that the plane settled from | the whirling occassioned by each flash | of lightning. The plane shot into a | rift of the storm—a zone of compara- | tive quiet in which the ground was i visible. Shaw made out a cluster of { lights shining dully below. From the ‘formation he concluded correctly that it was Hoytsville, and that he was within twenty miles of San Antonio and— he sighed with relief—exactly ‘on his course. His flying sense was serving him well. | Then Shaw became conscious of something else. It was just the slight- est quiver of the plane that informed him, and he turned his head in time to see Burke moving restlessly in the ' rear cockpit. The rush of cool air land the stinging raindrops had re- | vived the injured officer. Shaw twist- { could. Because the two cockpits were i So close together he could bring his | face within a few inches of Burke's. | Just then the lightning flashed, and | Shaw saw that his passenger’s lips : were moving, and that Burke had not recognized him. The lightning flashed | again, and Shaw saw Burke’s eyes. { They were staring unseeingly—the eyes of a delirious man. That was a | result of the wreck and exposure that | Shaw had not foreseen. | Thankful that his destination was not less than twenty miles away, Shaw bent to the business of flying and of making the best speed pos- i sible.. A moment later the plane moved loff the course slightly, and Shaw’s i toe involuntarily gave the rudder a | gentle pressure to correct the error. Instead of moving the rudder bar held {ed and leaned as far back as he. count when you accomplished the main thing; you saved his life. Go ! right in.” { Shaw mustered a grin somehow as he stood at the bedside and looked at what he could see of Burke’s face. It was white and haggard, but Burke’s eyes were steady and held the old, i frendly gleam again. “Well, old-timer,” Shaw greeted “Say,” he him. Burke’s eyes clouded. | spoke without preamble, “they tell ime I've been raving ever since you | brought me in—and fighting every- 1 body in the hospital. Seems to me I was flying—having lots of trouble—- and it was too real to be a dream.” i He passed a hand over his eyes. “I can remember parts of it. Shaw, i did I pull anything dumb when I was lin your plane? I’ve been worrying,” | be finished anxiously. “That's the worst crime a man can commit, you know, to fool with another fellow’s | plane, even if he is out of his head from a jolt. Did I interfere, Dave?” * Shaw nodded and smiled as he re- ' plied. “You did about everything. Between the storm and you flying the plane to Mexico City I had my hands full. Finally I soaked you on the jaw to win the argument.” “No?” said Burke incredulously, “Fact. But, like the fond parent, it hurt me more than it did you, my son.” “H’mm,” Burke smiled ruefully. “Between you and the ether they gave me awhile ago I’ve tried about ev- erything there is in the way of an- ‘aesthetics. But say, next time I | spread myself over the mesquite”— ; Burke gently rubbed his jaw and ‘ paused—“have some ether handy. I think I like that better.” ! “OK,” said Shaw, laughingly. “And now I'm going to get some sleep.” “Dave,” Burke called as Shaw left the room, “bring a cribbage board when you get that sleeping tended to. I’ve got to even matters up some way.” “OK, old-timer,” Shaw answered and broke the rules of the hospital by whistling merrily as he went down the corridor. lp ———— | Real Estate Transfers. | Silas S. Strunk to Robert N. Ham- (ilton, tract in Halfmoon Twp.; $5,000. ! Duke Copelan to John A. Erb, tract banked the plane and who had wit- | firm against his foot. Shaw tried to in Philipsburg; $1. nessed the wreck, leaped to the ground before the pilot and had the tool kit out, extracting a pair of cut- ting pliers. Leaving the motor run- ning, the two sprinted down the clear- ing. : They found Burke’s plane, a twist- ed crumpled mass, in a clump of mes- quite. The fuselage with the heavy motor had broken through the trees and lay on its side on the ground. Burke’s mechanic, whose face was bleeding from numerous cuts, was gamely tearing at the debris in an effort to clear the pilot, who lay quiet in the cockpit, half buried un- der a mass of wreckage. “I was thrown clear when we hit,” explainzd the mechanic hurriedly, “I am just scratched and bumped. I'm afraid he’s got it bad. wires so we can get at him!” The three men worked in silence. They cut the tangled bracing wires that kept Burke a prisoner and lifted the wreckage carefully away. Soon they were able to move the pilot, who was unconscious. A hasty examina- tion assured Shaw that his friend was alive and had sustained no broken bones, but he was abdly cut about the upper part of his head and face. With material from the first aid packet that every army aeroplane car- ries, Shaw bandaged Burke as well as he could. Meanwhile his mechanic helped Burke’s man to bandage his face. Then the three tried to bring Burke back to consciousness. When he finally opened his eyes and looked dazedly around, the storm-covered world was in semi-darkness. Burke’s return to consciousness was short; he mumbled something incoherently and then wearily closed his eyes again. Shaw turned to the mechanics. “I guess you fellows know what’s to be done as well as I do,” he said. “We'll have to get Lieutenant Burke to a hospital. He is hurt worse than we suppose. We are a long way from a house here and farther from a doctor. I can make San Antonio all right, so we had better lift him into the rear seat of my plane so that I can take him to the hospital at the field. There is some sort of house a few miles back that you fellows can reach, and I'll try to start a car back for you tonight or in the morning early.” I hate to leave you, but—” “Never mind about that, sir,” the mechanic cut in suddenly. “How had we best carry him to the plane?” Although a great deal had hap- pened, the amount of time that had elapsed between the moment that Shaw had landed in the clearing and his take-off with Burke in the rear cock-pit was short. The storm had closed down rapidly in the interval, however, and occasional flashes of lightning cut the gloom. Shaw's jaw tightened as he headed for San An- tonio. He could not dodge the storm; he should have to fly through the heart of it. Before long the aeroplane was in the semi-blackness of the clouds. The rain drops, beaten into a fine spray by the propeller and hurled back with tremendous speed in the air blast, struck Shaw’s face with stinging force. It was like braving a bom- bardment of needles. He dared not duck down in the shelter of the cock- pit to avoid them; he had to keep a constant watch and exercise all his skill to keep his course. Burke’s head and eyes were protected with the hel- met and goggles of one of the me- chanics. The air was bumpy, rougher than a churned-up sea. The big aeroplane whipped round like a cork. Some- times it would suddenly jerk from the level to a vertical bank. Again it would seem to strike a vacuum and drop with a suddenness that would cause Shaw temporarily to leave his seat. Or it would be as if some gi- gantic hand had clutched the plane and flung it upward or from side to Cut those | move the control stick—and could not. What a broken steering gear is to an automobile driver on a mountain road jammed controls are to an air- man. A moment before Shaw had been warm from his exertions. Now he was cold with the realization of his danger and his anxiety over Burke. Shaw’s mind seemed to spin {2s he sought the reason for the be- | ‘havior of his plane. Against his re- sistance the machine swung from the course not as uncontrolled aeroplanes { will, however, but steadily and sure- ly, as if it were guided. That gave Shaw the solution. Leaving the con- trols, he unsnapped the safety belt and whirled in his seat. | It was as he expected. Burke in | his delirium had found the extra con- trol stick, which was stowed away in i clips on the side of the cockpit for the use of the observer in emergencies. He had fitted it into place and was now flying the plane by means of the | controls in the rear seat. Possibly he did not realize what he was doing. | Shaw faced to the front and at- i tempted to wrest the controls from Burke. It was impossible. Then he i closed the throttle, intending to shout | to Burke to release the controls, but i by means of the throttle lever in the i rear cockpit Burke speeded up the motor and continued to turn. Shaw | whirled in his seat again and tried to shake Burke’s shoulder, but his hand was rudely struck off. The oth- er seemed to have the strength of three men. A flash of lightning revealed Burke with drawn face; his lips were still moving. Below the bandages, which came to his goggles, his eyes were gleaming, and in them showed no trace of recognition of Shaw, his 1 being was concentrated on flying the aeroplane—where Shaw did not know, self knew. When the injured man started to turn the machine, San Antonio had been less than ten miles ahead—lit- tle more than five minutes of flying, Burke’s condition told Shaw that he must have medical attention at once; that was certain. There was no op- portunity to coax or plead with him. Struggling with him in the plane was impossible, and it was impossible to continue flying aimlessly in a storm at night with a half-crazed man at the controls. Shaw gritted his teeth and took the only course open to him. He hated it worse the world. Facing Burke he waited for a flash of lightning. When it came it re- vealed Burke’s face turned away; he was leaning over the side of the cock- pit. At that instant Shaw, who was kneeling in the seat and facing back, struck. He had picked the spot care. fully; his fist took Burke on the chin, the uninjured part of his face, and slightly to one side. He collapsed limply. The impact of his fist on Burke's chin went through Shaw as if he had struck himself. He flew the remain- ing distance to the field in agony. He never knew just when he picked up the glow of lights that was San Antonio or how he found the long line of lights in front of the hangars at the big field. He landed as in a dream and “taxied” up as near the hospital as he could. He was lifting Burke out when help arrived. It was noon of the next day when the surgeon nodded to Shaw, who rose wearily but eagerly from a chair near the door of a private room of the post hospital. That marked the finish of a long vigil for Shaw. He had been there since Burke was brought in the night before. “He's out of it at last,” the surgeon, who knew Shaw’s story, said to the aviator. “You can go in and see him now. He wants you. And by the way don’t let that jolt on the jaw you gave him worry you. It was a mean thing most intimate friend. Burke's whole | ;and he doubted whether Burke him-. than anything in i Elizabeth M. Chapman, et bar, to! i Trustees of Christian Missionary Al- - liance Church of South Philipsburg, tract in South Philipsburg; $1,000. ‘Nora F. Fink to R. R. Fink, tract {in Taylor Twp.; $1,000. { Eva M. Cranston, et al to John W. ‘Foster, tract in Haines Twp.; $1. John W. Foster to Andrew S. Mus- ser, et ux, tract in Haines Twp.; $1. Andrew S. Musser, et ux, to Harry F. Snavely, et ux, tract in Haines . Twp.; $5,600. Emma Sholl, et bar, to William S. . Williams, tract in Bellefonte; $4,000. tC. C. Lucas, et ux, to A. D. Smelt- zer, tract in Spring Twp.; $500. | “Sarah E. Auman, et bar, to Mrs. Gertie M. Kerstetter, tract in Gregg | Twp.; $500. | William Arnold, et ux, to Andrew ' Flick, tract in Rush Twp.; $1. Thomas B. Weaver, et ux, to Hom- ‘er D. Decker, $1. ! Tau Co. of Delta Tau Delta to Eu- gene H. Lederar, tract in State Col- lege; $30,000. Charles F. Weaver, et al, to Chaun- cey J. Weaver, tract in Liberty Twp.; $650. W. H. Miller, et ux, to Harry L. Zimmerman, et ux, tract in Belle- fonte; $6,500. '. H. E. Dunlap, sheriff, to Eugene H. Lederer, i 000. tract in State College, $1,- { i John DeVinney, et al to Charles E. Heaton, et ux, tract in Walker Twp.; $5,500. Willard Kyler, to Andy Maruschak, et ux, tract in Philipsburg; $400. —— tresses Nature Outdone by Man-made Light- ! ning. Artificial lightning of 3,600,000 volts—the highest ‘ever obtained by man—has been produced in the en- gineering laboratory of the General "Electric company, and stored in ar- tificial “clouds.” Lightning flashes, greater in inten- sity than nature’s own product, pro- ‘duced by this immense voltage last i but one-ten-millionth of a second, yet | their rise, fall or wave shape is ac- ' curately measured by an insetrument known as the cathode ray oscillograph, says the Pennsylvaia Public Service i Information committee. | The purpose of this experimenta- {tion in high voltages is to secure . scientific data on the nature of elec- | tricity and to further engineering in- 1 formation on the protection of life .and property against lightning, which iis one of the greatest foes to electri- cal apparatus. Sr —————————————— Penn State Issues New Illustrated Catalogue. An illustrated catalogue has just i been issued by the Penn’a State Col- lege as a preliminary announcement for the year 1928-1929. It is the first time that the college has published a catalogue devoted almost entirely to pictures of campus, class-room and students activities. It contains in- formation relative to entrance re- outlines each of the 39 curricular of- fered by the college and what kind of work the graduate may except to do following graduation. Also there is some pertinent advice given on the selection of the college course best suited to the needs of the prospective student. The announcement is sent free to high school seniors requesting it of the College Registrar. Princi- pals of all four-year high schools in Pennsylvania are to receive copies this week. ——The Watchman gives all the news while it is news. tract in Spring Twp.; | quirements, expenses, activities, and |d silo. The control, usually so sensi- {to do and all that, but it doesn’t 'A NEW HOSPITAL FOR U. S. VETERANS. On the summit of a rolling, wooded {hill near Northport, L. I, a quadran- ‘ gle of stately brick Colonial buildings ‘has just been completed. Driving up ; the long slope to the main terrace, ‘one has a gradually widening pano- rama of the whole countryside, and from the top the view extends across i the Sound to the hazy villages on the Connecticut shore. Neither in the kuildings nor in the situation is there , that dreary look of the old-fashioned ' social institution. And that is one of the outstanding triumphs achieved in {the creation of this newest United : States Veterans’ hospital, which I marks an advance in the care of medi- cal cases. The group of buildings is large ‘enough to constitute a village, and when the full population of 1,000 pa- tients or more and some 600 or 700 administrators and attendants are in : residence it will not be unlike one. According to M. E. Head, who is the Director’s representative for the east- ern States, fifty patients a week will be transferred there after April 1 un- til capacity is reached. At present the builders are putting the finishing touches to the building, and the interior decorators are install- ing furniture and equipment of the newest design for the treatment of ' patients. These mechanisms for the alleviation and cure of mental disor- _ders form the more novel features of, , the hospital. i Every aspect of the hospital’s ac- tivities is correlated to insure conven- ience and efficiency in operation. The patient, on arriving, is reported in at the main administration building, thence he is transferred to the receiv- ing ward in the nearest adjoining structure. From this ward he will go to the observation ward on the same floor of the same wing. Both these wards ave on the same floor of the main infirmary building. So are the various clinics. The buildings grouped in a closed quadrangle, are spaced, but between them run connecting corridors whose upper half is above ground and actual- ly encloses the central area. That, Mr. Head pointed out, will allow the hospital administrators to give the patients every benefit of out-door air and recreation, and to maintain con- trol of them without an appearance of exercising restraint. Nearly all the large ward rooms have natural light and ventilation on ; three sides. There are wide porches + at the end of every wing. The night electric lighting system also embodies some new features. The lights, placed in the baseboards of the rooms, are so arranged that an attendant or doctor may light them from the corridor outside. Then, through the glass port- hole in the door, he can observe the patient without disturbing his sleep. Oil is used for fuel. ' It is delivered ‘from the railroad by gravity. In one wing of the infirmary building where "it would be expedient to have radiat- (ors because patients who are irre- sponsible might somehow harm them- . selves, heating will be, accomplished ‘by the distribution of air previously heated by passing through steam coils {in the basement. i Sound deadening is considered vital i to the treatment of some mental cas- es. Therefore, in parts of the main infirmary building and of the building for acutely disturbed cases, special sound insulating material has been in- corporated in the ceilings. Those rooms are echoless. The halls and corridors and rooms are carpeted with heavy linoleum, quieting the sound of footsteps. One whole building is giv- en over to recreation. In the main hall there will be shows and lectures and movies later on. | On the 540 acres of ground sur- ‘rounding the buildings, farming will be offered to those patients in need ‘of outdoor work. There will be craft shops, painting and so on, for those whose bent lies that way. i To the layman visiting the hospital ‘perhaps the most interesting of the treatment facilities is that for hydro-, i therapy. There are long bathtubs in , Which the patient may sit while a ‘continuous flow of water passes around him, soothing his nerves. The i temperature and ‘flow of the water are regulated by a delicately adjusted ! control valve, under an attendant’s supervision. But the attendant is in turn checked up. In a case on the wall there is a recording thermometer that governs the automatic notation of a chart which furnishes irrefutable record of the duration and tempera- ture of each bath administered. When one leaves the group of buildings one sees that it actually constitutes a complete village, includ- ing a fire department. Beyond the main quadrangle are other buildings of colonial design, small and large, where live the staff, the nurses and attendants. Dr. E. O. Crossman, the doctor in general charge, will have a house of his own. The necessary serv- ice buildings are there—kitchens, with gas and electric appliances, prepared to make a slice of toast or hundreds of gallons of ice cream with equal facility. The laundry, which takes a i shirt in at one end, has it washed {and ironed at the other almost as soon las you can walk there. | | 1 ' Jerusalem Does Not Permit Liquor to Be Sold Across the Bar. In an effort to keep the Holy city | as good as its name the authorities ‘are not permitting bars in Palestine. | Prohibition on alcoholic beverages | does not exist but the thirsty must go to hotels or restaurants for their rinks. s The familiar bars found everywhere in the middle and near east with the too familiar lady dancing partners are not allowed anywhere in Pales- tine. The absence of drunkenness in Pal- | estine was commented on at the last session of the Permanent Mandates Commission where it was pointed out that the Moslems are supposed not to drink on religious grounds, the Jews although not laboring under any such prohibition are habitually non- alcoholic, and the rather small num- ber of Christians are as abstaining as their neighbors. earliest ‘mytholo Prune Shrubs and Trees Only After Flowering. Now that spring is here, pruning shears of various shapes and makes are located and again brought into the light of day for the purpose of making them serve their annual duty. If the growth of a tree or a shrub was similar to the growth of the hair on our heads then there would be very little objection to their “bobbing,” but as the plant growth differs great- ly from hair growth we should gov- ern pruning of both accordingly. The first question that should come to mind when the pruner approaches a tree or a shrub with a saw or a pair of pruning shears in hand is “What is the particular purpose of that particular tree or shrub?” The second question is “why prune it?” If the answer to the first question is that the tree or shrub is grown for flowers, this important fact should be remembered in pruning. Pruning only for two reasons: (1) to produce more blooms or, to reduce the size of the: plants answers the second question. Will merely cutting the top of the plant or “bobbing” it result when the answers to these questions are clear-. ly in the mind before tackling the- plants to be pruned? Or will the parts of the plant which should be- removed in order to serve the pur- pose for which it is being grown be- selected more carefully ? There are two general groups of flowering ornamental trees as well as shrubs: spring flowering and late summer or fall flowering. Common. sense indicates that these plants re- quire different times of the year in which to be pruned, if they are to serve their purpose. The spring flow- ering plants form their flowering- buds during the previous season so- that they will be ready to burst into flower with the first few warm days: in the spring. Naturally these plants should not be pruned until they have: done their duty. The rule, therefore, for pruning: any flowering tree or shrub is very simple and can be expressed in a very few words. Dec not prune until the plant has flowered. e prevailing idea that plants must be pruned be- fore they come into leaf can be disre- garded as its effect upon the plants is. so small that it is negligible. ————— i ——————— “5 The Easter Bunny. Just how the hare came to be con- nected with Easter customs we do not know. but we do know that among : some nations the hare is a type of the moon. In fact, the Chinese represent: the moon as a rabbit pounding rice In a mortar, while Hindu and Japa-- nese artists paint the hare across the - face of the moon. As the time of the - Easter festival is governed by the. phases of the moon this may be an explanation of their connection. The mythical natural history of the- Hindus tells us that hares live on the shores of the lake of the moon, In Swabia the children are not al- lowed to make shadow pictures of rabbits on the wall, because it is con-- sidered a sin against the moon. The colored folk of the southern States have a strong belief in the- power of the “left hind foot of a graveyard rabbit” killed in the dark of the moon. In County Warwich, England, if the young men of the town can catch a hare and bring it to the parson of the parish before ten o'clock on East- ' er morning he must give them a calf’s i head, one hundred eggs for their ; breakfast and a groat in money. Nowadays the Easter bunny has become so confused with the Easter egg custom that the hares are sup- posed to lay the many colored eggs : the children find on Easter morning. tla LL Some Easter Symbols of Olden Times, The Greeks, Persians and Egyp- - tians looked upon the egg as a symbol of hope and resurrection, and thus we. see how it came to be associated with the Christian festival of joy, Easter, when nature once more awakens from her sleep and everything seems re- born. The first was always regarded by : early races as a symbol of the coms- ing Savior of mankind, and so, natur- ally, the first Christians adopted it as - a sign of their faith. The hare had a place in the very gV, and the Goddess of ~ Dawn, Ostera, is said to have pos- sessed a sacred hare. This animal is said to have laid colored eggs, thus explaining the origin of the custom, ,. which still survives, of painting eggs at Eastertide. This is done in many countries throughout the world. —— ee ep————————— Sport of Egg-Rolling Popular in England. Egg-rolling is still a popular Easter - pastime in parts of northern England, notably at Preston. The eggs used are boiled very hard and are arti- ficially colored. Thousands of factory workers gather on the hillsides on - Easter Monday and roll their eggs down the slopes. The object of the competitors is to break as many as possible of their rivals’ eggs, the winner being the one - whose egg remains intact the longest. At the end of the day the slopes are literally buried beneath eggshells, for as soon as an egg cracks it is eaten by its owner. To avoid disputes the hame of the owner is generally writ- ten on his egg. Trapped 'by Dyed Gasoline. Motorists who are partial to anti- knock gasoline are familiar with the - tints used both to give it a distinct- ive marking and to warn of the poi- sonous varieties that must not be handled carelessly; but it remained for authorities of the Panama Canal zone to discover a new use for dyed gasoline in: the tracking of govern- mental joy riders. When they found that their stores of gasoline were be- ing depleted by employees on unof- fiicial missions,-they added one gallon of green dye to every 1,500 gallons : of gasoline~—Popular Science Month- - ly. . .—Subkeribe for the Watchman. .
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers