Bellefonte, Pa., December 14, 1928.
A ——
THE CONSCIENCE
I sold my conscience to the world
The price I thought was good;
The conscience—'twas a useless thing;
XI needed clothes and food.
But when ‘twas gone my joy went, too,
The things the world gave in their place
‘Were broken in a day.
And then the way grew steep and dark,
My feet began to slide,
I did not know which way to go,
For I had lost my guide.
I bought my conscience back again—
My conscience worn and old !
The world demanded thrice the price
Since I to him had sold.
Just 211 I had I paid for it,
And took the poor thing back,
And turned me to my empty home,
Yet did not flee alack.
It nestled in my heart,
And held my life as true,
And showed me right and wrong as clear
As if it had been new.
I have my conscience back again,
The world may keep its gold,
For peace and joy have flown back tao.
And never shall be sold.
Unknown
OLD FOLKS’ X-MAS.
Tom and Grace Carter sat in their
living-room on Christmas Eve, some-
times talking, sometimes pretending
to read and all the time thinking
things they didn’t want to think.
Their two children, Junior, aged nine-
teen. and Grace, two years younger,
had come home that day from their
schools for their Christmas vacation.
Junior was in his first vear at the
university and Grace attending a
boarding-school that would fit her for
college.
I won't call them Grace and Junior
any more, though that is the way
they had been christened. Junior
had changed his name to Ted and
Grace was now Caroline, and thus
they insisted on being addressed,
even by their parents. This was one
of the things Tom and Grace the eld-
er were thinking of as they sat in
their living-room Christmas Eve.
Other university freshmen who liv-
ed here had returned on the twenty-
first, the day when the vacation was
supposed to begin, Ted had tele-
aphed that he would be three days
ate owing to a special examination
which, if he passed it, would lighten
the terrific burden of the next term.
He had arrived at home looking so
pale, heavy-eyed and shaky that his
mother doubted the wisdom of the
od PE EEG SSG.
: ] ; or ; bas : . 5
ice’s ni -year- her Paul. “I won't try. We'll have time for | Caroline. “We'll be terribly late as drive this Gorham at all maybe you They had spent part of the evening at
The fs jo? as gd is that in the ring I mean, later in it is. So can’t we see the tree now?” could get them to take it back or home, and the Murdocks must have
car at half past six. Ted had accept-
ced an invitation to see the hockey
match with two class mates, Herb
Castle and Bernard King. He wanted
to take his father’s Gorham, but Tom
told him untruthfully that the foot-
brake was not working; Ted must be
kept out of the garage till tomorrow
morning.
Ted and Caroline had taken naps in
the afternoon and gone off together
in Paul Murdock’s stylish roadster,
givin their word that they would be
ack by midnight or a little later and
Jat tomorrow night they would stay
ome.
And now their mother and father
were sititng up for them, because the
stockings could not be filled and hung
till they were safely in bed, and also
because trying to go to sleep is a
painful and hopeless business when
you are kind of jumpy. y
“What time is it?” askeq Grace,
looking up from the third page of a!
book that she had begun to “read”
soon after dinner. i
“Half past two,” said her husband.
(He had answered the same question
every fifteen or twenty minutes since
midnight.) !
“You don’t suppose anything could
have happened ?” said Grace. !
“We’d have heard if there had,”
said Tom.
“It isn’t likely, of course,” said
Grace, “but they might have had an
accident some place where nobody
was there to report it or telephone or
anything. We don’t know what kind
estly I can’t eat anything.
”
.
the morning.
“I guess so,” said Grace, and led
“I'm not going to bed till you do,” the way into the music-room.
said Grace.
“All right, we’ll both go. Ted ought the
not to be long now. I suppose his
friends will bring him home.
hear him when he comes in.”
There was no chance not to hear Caroline.
him when, at ten minutes before six,
he came in. He had done his Christ-
'
1
mas shopping late and brought home °
a package.
race was downstairs again at half :
past seven, telling the servants break- |
fast would be postponed till nine. She
nailed the stockings beside the fire-
place, went into the music-room to
see that nothing had been disturbed
and removed Ted’s hat and overcoat |
from where he had carefully hung
them on the hall floor.
Tom appeared a little before nine
and suggested that the children ought
to be awakened.
“Ill wake them,” said Grace, and
went upstairs. She opened Ted's
door, looked, and softly closed it
again. She entered her daughter's
room and found Caroline semi-con-
scious.
“Do I have to get up now?
If you
could just have Molla bring me some
coffee. Ted and I are both invited
to the Murdocks’ at half past twelve,
and I could sleep for another hour or
two.”
“But dearie, don’t you know we
have Christmas dinner at one?”
“It’s a shame, Mother, but I
of a driver the Murdock boy is. thought of course our dinner would
concentrated mental effort, while his
father secretly hoped the stuff had |
been non-poisonous and would not have |
lasting effects. Caroline, too, had been '
behind schedule, explaining that her
laundry had gone astray and she had
Boi dared trust others to trace it for
er.
Grace and Tom had attempted, with
fair success, to conceal their disap- |
pointment over this delayed home-
coming and had continued with their |
preparations for a Christmas that |
would thrill their children and conse- |
quently themselves. They had bought :
an imposing lot of presents, costing |
twice or three times as much as had |
been Tom’s father’s annual income |
when Tom was Ted’s age, or Tom’s |
own income a year ago, before Gen- |
eral Motors’ acceptance of his new |
weather-proof paint had enabled him |
to buy this suburban home and lux- |
uries such as his own parents and |
Grace’s had never dreamed of, and to |
give Ted and Caroline advantages ;
that he and Grace had perforce gone
without. i
Behind the closed door of the mus-
ic-room was the elaborately decked
tree. The piano and piano bench and
the floor around the tree were covered ;
with beribboned packages of all sizes, |
shapes and weights, one of them ad.
dressed to Tom, another to Grace, a!
few to the servants and the rest to |
Ted and Caroline. A huge box con- |
tained a sealskin coat for Caroline, |
a coat that had cost as much as the
Carters had formely paid a year for |
rent. Even more expensive was a
“set” of jewelry consisting of an opal
brooch, a bracelet of opals and gold |
filigre, and an opal ring surrounded |
by diamonds, /
Grace always had preferred opals
to any other stone, but now that she i
could afford them, some inhibition
prevented her from buying them for |
herself; she could enjoy them much
more adorning her pretty daughter. !
There were boxes of silk stoe ings,
lingerie, gloves and handkerchiefs, !
And for Ted, a three-hundred-dollar |
watch, a de-luxe edition of Balzae, an
expensive bag of shiny new steel-
shafted golf-clubs and the last word
In portable phonographs.
But the big surprise for the boy
was locked in the garage, a black
Gorham sedan, a model more up to
date and better-looking than Tom's
own year-old car that stood beside it.
Ted could use it during the vaeation
if the mild weather continued and
could look forward to driving it
around home next spring and sum-
mer, there being a rule at the uni-
versity forbidding undergraduates the
Jossession or use of private automo-
iles.
Every year for sixteen years, since
Ted was three and Caroline one, it
had been the Christmas Eve custom
of the Carter's to hang up their chil-
dren’s stockings and fill them with in- | T
expensive toys. Tom and Grace had ,
thought it would be fun to continue
the custom this year; the contents of
the stockings—a mechanical negro
doll, music-boxes, a kitten that meow-
ed when you pressed a spot on her
back, et cetra—would make the kids
laugh. And one of Grace's first pro-
nouncements to her returned offspring
was that they must go to hed early
so Santa Claus would nat be frighten-
éd away. :
But it seemed they couldn’t promise
to make it so terribly early. They
both had long-standing dates in town.
Caroline was going to dinner and a
play with Beatrice Murdock and Bea-
iyou go to bed?”
j dock boy’s roadster, whose lighting
“He’s Ted’s age. Boys that age
may be inclined to drive too fast, but |
they drive pretty well.”
“How do you know?” :
“Well, I've watched some of them
drive.” |
“Yes, but not all of them.” |
“I doubt whether anybody in the
world has seen
old boy drive.”
“Boys these
irresponsible.”
“Oh, don’t worry!
days seem so kind of
They probably '
met some of their young friends and §
stopped for a bite to eat or some- | §
? Tom got up and walked to @
the window with studied carelessness. | §
thing.”
“It’s a pretty night,” he said. “You |
can see every star in the sky.’
But he wasn’t looking at the stars. !
He was looking down the road for |
headlights.
and after a few moments he returned
to his chair. |
“What time is it?” asked Grace.
“Twenty-two of,” he said. |
“Of what?” |
“Of three.”
“Your watch must have stopped. |
Nearly an hour ago you told me it
was half past two.”
“My watch is all right.
ably dozed off.”
“I haven't closed my eyes.”
“Well, it’s time you did. Why don’t
You prob-
“Why don’t you?”
“I'm not sleepy. |
“Neither am I. But honestly, Tom, '§
it’s silly for you to stay up. I'm. just;
doing it 128, |
and because I feel so wakeful.
there’s no use of you losing your
sleep.”
home.”
“That’s foolishness! There's noth-
ing to worry about. They're just hav-
ing a good time. You were young
once yourself,” said Grace.
“That’s just it!
I was young.”
per and tried to
shipping news.
“What time is it?” asked Grace.
“Five minutes of three.
“Maybe they're staying at the Mur-
docks’ all night, Tom.”
“They’d have let us know.”
“They were afraid to wake us up,
telephoning.”
At three-twenty a car stopped at
the front gate.
“There they are!”
“I told you there was nothing to
worry about.”
Tom went to the window. He could
just discern the outlines of the Mur-
He picked up his pa-
get interested in the
system seemed to have broken down.
“He hasn’t any lights,” said Tom.
Maybe I'd better go out and see if
I can fix them.”
“No don’t!” said Grace sharply.
“He can fix them himself. He’s just
sayisg them while he stands still.”
“Why don’t they come in?”
“They’re probably making plans.”
“They can make them in here. I'll
go out and tell them we're still up.”
“No, don’t!” said Grace as before,
and Tom obediently remained at the
window.
It was nearly four when the car's
lights flashed on and the car drove
“©
away. Caroline walked into the
Bouse and stared dazedly at her par-
ents.
“Heavens! What are you doing
up?”
Tom was about to say something,
but Grace forestalled him.
“We were talking over old Christ-
mases,” she said. “Is it late?”
“I haven’t any idea,” said Caroline.
“Where is Ted?”
“Isn’t he home? I haven't seen him
since we dropped him at the hockey
place.” J
“Well, you £ right to bed,” said
her mother. “You must be worn out.”
“I am, kind of. We danced after
the Slay. What time is breakfast?”
“Eight o'clock.”
“Oh, Mother, can’t you make it
nine ?”
“I guess so. You used to want to
get up early on Christmas.”
“I know, but—"
“Who brought you home?” asked
om.
“Why, Paul Murdock—and Bea-
trice.”
“You look rumpled.”
“They made me sit in the ‘rumple
seat.” ‘
She laughed at her joke, said good
night and went upstairs. She had not
come even within hand-shaking dis-
tance of her father and mother.
“The Murdocks,” said Tom, “must
have great manners, maki their
guest ride in that uncomfortable
seat.”
Grace was silent.
“You go to bed, too,” said Tom.
“I'll wait for Ted.”
every nineteen-year- | /
There were none in sight , 8
8
“I couldn’t slep a wink til] they're
When I was young, i :
“You couldn’t fix the stockings.”
be at night.”
“Don’t you want to see your pres-
ents?”
so I can fix the stotkings, i:
But | E
“Certainly I do, but can’t
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The Democratic Watchman
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Hon-
The servants were summoned and
tree stared at and admired.
“You must open your presents,”
We'll said Grace to her daughter.
“I can’t open them all now,” said
“Tell me which is special.”
The cover was removed from the
huge box and Grace held up the coat.
“Oh, Mother!” said Caroline. “A
sealskin coat!”
“Put it on,” said her father.
“Not now. We haven’t time.”
“Then look at this!” said Grace,
and opened the case of jewels.
“Oh, Mother! Opals!” said Caro-
line.
They're my favorite stone,” said
Grace quietly.
“If nobody minds,” said Ted, “rn
postpone my personal investigations
till we get back. I know [Ill like
everything you’ve given me. But if
we have no car in working order, I’ve
got to call a taxi and catch a train.”
“You can drive in.” said his father.
“Did you fix the brake?”
“I think it’s all right. Come up to
the garage and we'll see.”
Ted got his hat and coat and kiss-
ed his mother good-by. “Mother,”
he said, “I know you’ll forgive me for |
not having any presents for you and
Dad. TI was rushed the last three
days at school. And I thought Id
have time to shop a little when we
got in yesterday, but I
much of a hurry to be home.
night, everything was closed.”
was in too .
Last |
make some kind of a deal with the
Barnes people.”
Tom didn’t speak till he was sure
‘of his voice. Then: “All right, son.
Take my car and I'll see what can be
done about yours.”
Caroline, waiting for Ted, remem-
bered something and called to her
mother. “Here’s what I got for you
and Dad,” she said. “It’s two tickets
to “Jolly Jane,” the play I saw last
night. You'll love it I”
' “When are they for?” asked Grace.
' “Tonight,” said Caroline.
' _ “But dearie,” said her mother, “we
idon’t want to go out tonight, when
you promised to stay home.”
I “Well keep our promise,”
Caroline, “but the Murdecks
I drop in and bring some friends
we'll dance and there’ll be music. Ted
‘and I thought you'd rather be away
: so our noise wouldn’t disturb you.”
| “It was sweet of you to do this,”
said her mother, “but your father
and I don’t mind noise as long as
you're enjoying yourselves.”
“It’s time anyway that you and
Dad had a treat.”
“The real treat,” said Grace,
would be to spend a quiet evening
, here with just you two.”
“The Murdocks practically invited
themselves and I couldn’t say no after
said
may
[3
they’d been so nice to me. And
honestly, Mother, you’ll love this
play !”
“Will you be home for supper?” :
| “I'm pretty sure we will, but if
| we're a little late, don’t you and Dad
and .
“Don’t worry,” said Grace. wait for us. v
“Christmas is for young people. Dad so you won't miss anything. The
and I have everything we want.” { first act is really the best. We prob-
The servants had found their gifts | ably won’t be hungry, but have
they and disappeared, expressing effusive Signe leave something out for us in
ae
What could be nicer?
If you have a relative or friend who might be
interested in what is going on in Centre county, who
has no other means of contact than through the oc-
casional letters you write him or her we are sure
they would enjoy having the Watchman. It would
tell them so many things that you forget to mention
when you finally prod yourself into answering that
letter you received weeks ago.
Christmas is coming and the problem of some
little rembrance will be to solve before you know it.
Why not accept our suggestion that you send
the Watchman for a year to that friend or relative.
It will cost only $1.50 and be fifty letters, teeming
with news, that anyone would be glad to receive.
Send us $1.50 and we will mail the Watchman
for a year to any point in the United States. We
will also mail a Christmas card to the recipient ex-
pressing your good wishes.
What could be nicer?
A Country Newspaper that is different,
wait?” .
Grace was about to go to the kitch-
en to tell the cook that dinner would
be at seven instead of one, but she
remembered having promised Signe
the afternoon and evening off, as a
|
cold light supper would be all anyone
wanted after the heavy midday meal.
Tom and Grace breakfasted alone
and once more sat in the living-room,
talking, thinking and pretending to
read.
“You ought to speak to Caroline,”
said Tom. £
“I will, but not today. It’s Christ-
mas.”
“And I intend to say a few words
to Ted,” Tom announced.
day. :
“I suppose they'll be out again to-
night.”
“No, they promised to stay home.
We'll have a nice cozy evening.”
“Don’t bet too much on that,” said
Tom.
At noon the “children” made their
entrance. They responded to their
parents’ salutations with almost the
proper warmth. Ted declined a cup. T
of coffee and he and Caroline apolo-
gized for making a “breakfast” date
at the Murdocks.”
“Sis and I both thought you’d be
having dinner at seven, as usual.”
“We've always had it at one o’clock
on Christmas,” said Tom.
“I'd forgotten it was Christmas,”
said Ted. f
“Well, those stockings ought to re-
mind you.”
Ted and Caroline looked at the bulg-
ing stockings.
Isn’t there a tree?” asked Caro-
line.
“Of course,” said her mother. “But
the stockings come’ first.” 3
“We've only a little time,’ said
“Yes, dear, you must. But not to- |
changed this?”
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| tomorrow or next day. But don’t you
| ”
Seandinavian thanks. case we are.
Caroline and her mother were left Tom and Grace sat down to the
alone. elaborate Christmas dinner and didn’t
“Mother, where did the coat come ' make much impression on it. Even if
from?”
“Lloyd and Henry's.” teen-pound turkey would have looked
“They keep all kinds of furs, don’t almost like new when they had eaten |
their fill. Conversation was intermit-
tent and related chiefly to Signe’s
excellence as a cook and the weather.
Children and Christmas were barely
touched on.
Tom merely suggested that on ac-
count of its being a holiday and their
having theater tickets, they ought to
take the six-ten and eat supper at the
Metropole. His wife said no; Ted and
Caroline might come and be disap-
pointed at not finding them.
The afternoon was the longest
Grace had ever known. The children
were still absent at seven and she and
Tom taxied to the train. Neither
talked much on the way to town. As
for the play, which Grace was sure
to love, it turned out to be a rehash
of “Cradle Snatchers” and “Sex,” re-
taining the worst features of each.
When it was over, Tom said: “Now
I’m inviting you to the Cove Club.
You didn’t eat any breakfast or din-
they 7”?
“Yes.”
“Would you mind horribly if I ex-
“Certainly not, dear. You pick
out anything you like, and if it’s a
little more expensive, it won’t make
any difference. We ean go in town
want to wear your opals to the ur-
docks’ ?” :
“I don’t believe so. They might
get lost or something. And I'm not—
well, I'm not so crazy about—”
“I think they can be exchanged,
too,” said Grace. “You run along
now and get ready to start.”
Caroline obeyed with alacrity, and
Grace spent a welcome moment by
herself.
Tom opened the garage door. ‘
“Why, you've got two cars!” said
“The new one isn’t mine,” said
: Tom. ner or supper and I can’t have you
“Whose is it?” starving to death on a feast day. Be-
“Yours. It’s the new model.” sides, I’m thirsty as well as hungry.”
But it They ordered the special table
d’hote and struggled hard to get
away with it. Tom drank six high-
balls, but they failed «to produce the
usual effect of making him jovial.
Grace had one high-ball and some
“Dad, that’s wonderful !
looks just like the old one.”
“Well, the old one’s pretty good.
Just the same, yours is better. ouw’ll
find that out when you drive it. Hop
in and get started. . I had her filled
vith » kind of cordjal that gave her a warm,
x ay Sink I'd rather drive the old | contented feeling for a moment. But
one.” the warmth and contentment left her
“Why?” before the train was half-way home.
The living room looked as if Von
Kluck’s ‘army had just passed
through. Ted and Caroline | kept
their promise up to a certain point.
“Well, what I really wanted, Dad,
was a Barnes sport roadster, some-
thing like Paul Murdock’s, only a dif-
ferent color scheme. And if I don’t
Take the seven-twenty
they had had any appetite, the six- |
brought all their own friends and
everybody else’s, judging from re-
sults. The tables and floors were:
strewn with empty glasses, ashes and
cigaret stubs. The stockings had been:
torn off their nails and the wrecked
contents were all over the place.
Tom led his wife into the musie--
room.
“You never took the trouble to open-
your own present.” he said.
| “And I think there’s one for you,.
too,” said Grace. “They didn’t come-
in here,” she added, “so. I guess there
wasn’t much dancing or music.”
Tom found his gift from Grace, a
set of diamond studs and cuff buttons.
for festive wear. Grace’s present
from him was an opal ring.
“Oh, Tom !” she said.
“We'll have to go out somewhere:
tomorrow night, so I can break these
.in,” said Tom.
i “Well, if we do that, we’d better
‘get a good night’s rest.”
Pll beat you upstairs,” saig Tom.—-
| Hearst’s International Cosmopolitan.
' NINE TAILORS AWAIT
THE PRINCE OF WALES.
“Nine tailors make a man,” said.
the old proverb. Apparently the
Prince of Wales has taken it to heart,.
for he has nine tailors waiting to.
make his new suits of clothes when he
comes back from his African tour.
They are the only tailors in the
world who are privileged to dis lay
the royal arms with the sign, “Tailors.
to His Royal Highness the Prince of
| Wales.” Altogether the royal family
has 1,400 tradesmen who, “by appoint-
ment,” display the coveted royal
warrant over their shop windows.
How many thousands in addition
would like to do the same has never
been revealed. It is known, however,
that in the past twenty-seven years:
6,000 firms have been brought to
court for using the royal arms with-
out authority. Many others have-
tried to use them, but they have haul-
ed down their colors when anyone no-
ticed the irregularity and threatened
legal action.
The grant of a royal warrant is:
jealously guarded by London trades-
men, and woe to any upstart who
tries to use it wrongfully! It is not
a mere matter of ceremony, but of
pounds and shillings and pence. The
ere appearance of the royal insignia:
over a shop is an advertisement.
which brings in hundreds of pounds a:
year—especially from American visi-
tors to London who like to buy at the
same shop as the King and Queen.
In the list of 1,400 firms supplying
the royal family there are a few sur-
prises. King George has a purveyor
of angostura bitters in Trinidad, a
purveyor of orange curacao in Am-
sterdam, and until last January he had
a purveyor of lamprey pies in
Gloucestershire. But the lamprey pie-
maker died, and his unique distinction
died with him.
King George has a kilt-maker in
Edinburgh, and tartan manufacturers
in various Scottish towns so that he
can appear in appropriate clothing
during his vacation in Balmoral
Castle. He has a gol? club maker ina
New Brunswick village, a taxidermist,
a philatelist and two fireworks mak.
ers—although for what purpose no-
body knows, a fan-maker, a horse-
hair maker, a purveyor of feathers,
and even a purveyor of sheep-dip for
the royal flock !
Queen Mary, too, has her own list
of official “purveyors.” Among them
are antique dealers, pin makers, hair-
pin manufacturers, and even a dealer
in shawls in far-away Delhi,
State Opens Two New Buildings.
State College—Two new buildings
have been opened on the campus of
the Pennsylvania State College. Both
are gifts of alumni and friends of the
college. A new $500,000 recreation
hall or gymnasium capable of seat-
ing over 6000 people is the gift of
alumni and former students. The new
: $150,000 infirmary or hospital, design-
ed for adequate care of the health of
students, is provided by farmer po-
tato growers of the State, alumni,
and interested friends.
The staffs of the physical educa-
tion department and of the college
health service moved into their new
quarters during the Thanksgiving va-
cation period. Student lockers were
moved to the recreation hall at the
same time and gym classes and indoor
! sports will start there shortly.
health service is completely installed
lin the new quarters of Dr. J. P. Rite-
, our, college physician.
! Director Hugo Bedzek and his phys-
ical education staff will have avail-
‘able a playing floor in the new rec-
, reation hall 165 feet by 180 feet in
size. A concrete gallery seats 2500
‘people, and movable stands will seat
12800 more. Upwards of 1000 more
ican be seated on the main floor for
| convocations. During the winter
months the hall will Le the scene of
intercollegiate basketball, wrestling
| and boxing matches. During March
the intercollegiate boxing champion-
ship meet and the Pennsylvania high
school basketball championship games
will be staged in the new building.
In each of these two buildings only
the central or main unit of a com-
plete structure has been erected. The
recreation hall will later get wings
for a swimming pool and locker
rooms, and provision has been made
for the addition of wings to the in-
firmary as the health service needs
increase. 2
To Move Site of Famous Wolf Pack
Dr. E. H. McCleary, owner of the
McCleary wolf pack at Kane, the on-
ly one in captivity in the world, has
purchased 2b acres of land at a point
midway betwen Kane and Mt. Jew-
ett on the Roosevelt Highway and
will move the wolves there from Park
Avenue, Kane. : ;
It is believed the new location will
attraet more tourist trade. :
There are now 41 wolves in the
pack. Their removal to the new park
will be made early in the Spring it
was stated.
Phar new wolves were added to ie
ack the past summer. wo ¢
oa or one from Idaho and
the other from Mexico.