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. .