via
Brom
Bellefonte, Pa., March 29, 1929.
EE STS.
SONGS FOR EASTER MORNING.
Along the wakening valleys,
Where the feet of Winter trod,
The Spirit of Spring-time rallies
The children of the sod;
On the slopes that were brown and barren,
As at touch of the rod of Aaron,
The wind-flowers sway and nod.
A waft of the breath of Beauty
Is blown o'er the waiting earth;
And the austere face of Duty
Is touched with a tender mirth
While the numbing coil of Trouble
Is burst like a tenuous bubble
At thought of the vernal birth.
Aye, back from the pallid portal
The stone of Death is rolled,
And Hope, on its wings immortal,
Mounts up in the morning's gold;
And life seems trustful and truthful,
And the soul is yearning and youthful,
And naught in the world is old !
—Clinton Scollrad.
PARTNERS OF THE AIR.
One hundred miles to San Antonio,
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 ran 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
frequently, 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-cover-
ed and desolate, in all directions.
Those fingers, some of them several
miles in depth, were showers that
were soaking the regions they cov-
ered. One suddenly appeared a
short distance in front of the speed-
ing airplane.
Shaw raised his arm vertically
above his head. The pilot of the fol-
lowing plane acknowledged the sig-
nal in a similar manner and accom-
panied it with a friendly grin that at
the distance was little more to Shaw
than a gleam of even teeth. Shaw
banked his machine, and the other
followed obediently. The planes be-
gan to encircle 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 clean.
After checking his progress by th
map again, Shaw looked g the Sr
on the instrument board. It was
late afternoon, and already the illum-
inated figures and hands of the in-
strument were beginning to gleam.
Dusk was near—the early dusk of
autumn; in the half gloom of the
storm its approach had been unher-
alded. Shaw opened the throttle a
by Je.
arkness find two planes still in t
air. That was bad business. _
leading machine drew ahead, put kept
its increased lead only for an instant
for the pilot of the following plane
had noticed the maneuvre and in-
creased his speed.
In a way the actions of the two
aeroplanes in teaming so well togeth-
€r were characteristic of the spirit
that existed betwen the pilots.
Whenever they were mentioned in
the Air Service, Leiutenant Shaw
and Lieutenant Burke, 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 crippled plane Shaw was
gamely trying to beat off two Fok-
kers. He was virtually helpless, but
was fighting to make his end as in-
convenient as possible for his antag-
onists when like a blot a Spad from
a higher altitude and with a hail of
machine-gun bullets neatly put on
Fokker out of the running. There
had been a flash of wings in the sun,
a swift turn and the missiles from the |
newcomer’s guns had caught the sec-
ond Fokker squarely in spite of its
brilliant reversement. Shaw had then
Jumped 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 re-
pair depot at San Antonio two pianes
that had seen 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 notic-
ed that Burke's plane was some dis-
' tance below and farther. behind than
usual. Then his body stiffened. The
propeller of Burke's plane, which
had been an almost invisible blur,
was now revolving so slowly as to
be easily discermible. Then the nose
of the plane dropped, and it banked
quickly and headed for a cl in
the mesquite a short distance to the
rear—the only spot in several miles
where an aeroplane could safely land.
Shaw knew as he banked his ma-
It would not do to let!
chine and followed that Burke's mo-
tor 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 Burke. 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 in-
sufficient altitude. His premonition
.was correct. Even as he looked he
.saw the plane crash into the low
mesquite trees some distance behind:
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 tires of the machine did not mire
in the storm-beaten ground. The
mechanic, who had awakened when
Shaw first banked the plane and who
had witnessed the wreck, leaped to
the ground before the pilot and had
the tool kit out, extracting a pair
of cutting pliers. Leaving the motor
| runuing, the two sprinted down the
clearing. !
They found Burke's plane, a twist-
ed crumpled mass, in a clump of
mesquite. 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 deb-
ris in an effort to clear the pilot,
who lay quiet in the cockpit, half
buried under a mass of wreckage.
“I was swung clear, when we hit,"
explained the mechanic hurriedly. “I
am just scratched and bumped. I'm
afraid he’s got it bad. Cut those
wires so we can get at him!” i
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 brok-
en bones, but he was badly cut about
the upper part of his head and face.
With material from the first aid
packet that every army aeroplane
carries, Shaw bandaged Burke as
well as he could. Meanwhile his
mechanic helped Burke’s man to ban-
dage his face. Thein the three tried
to bring Burke back to conscious-
ness. 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 inco-
herently and then wearily closed his
eyes again:
Shaw turned to the mechanics. “TJ
gues 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 doc-
tor. 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 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 happen-
ed, 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 occgsional 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-darkness 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 helmet and goggles of one of the
mechanics.
The air was bumpy, rougher than
i a churned-up sea. The big aeroplane
whipped round like a cork.
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 thé plane
and flung it upward or from side to
side. The controls, usually so sensi-
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.
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 painfully on Shaw's
eardrums. Twilight changed to night,
and the thick darkness gathered.
Shaw was flying into a stinging black
pit that was now and again dazzling-
ly 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 occasioned by each flash
of lightning. The plane shot into a
eyes of a delirious man.
Some- |
i rose wearily but eagerly from a chair
"rift of the storm—a zone of compara-
tively quiet in which the ground was
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
slightest quiver of the plane that in-
formed him, and he turned his head in
time to see Burke moving restlessly
in the rear cockpit. The rush of cool
air and the stinging raindrops had re-
vived the injured officer. Shaw twist-
ed and leaned as far back as he could.
Because the two cockpits were 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 flash-
ed again, and Shaw saw Burke's eyes.
They were staring unseeingly—the
That was
a result of the wreck and exposure
that Shaw had not forseen.
Thankful that his destination was
not more than twenty miles away
Shaw bent to the business of flying
and of making the best speed pos-
sible. A moment later the plane mov-
ed off the course slightly, and Shaw’s
toe involuntarily gave the rudder a
gentle pressure to correct the error.
Instead of moving the rudder bar .
held firm against his foot.
tried to move the control stick—and |
Shaw
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
as 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 surely,
as if it were guided. That gave Shaw
the solution. Leaving the controls,
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 clips on the side of the cockpit
for the use of the observer in emer-
gencies. 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-
tempted to wrest the controls from
Burke. It was impossible. Then he
closed the throttle, intending to shout
to Burke to release the controls, but
by means of the throttle lever in the
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 other
seemed to have the strength of three
men. ‘ ¥
A flash of lightining reveaied 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
most intimate friend. Burke's whole
being was concentrated on flying the
aeroplane—where Shaw did not
know, and he doubted whether Burke
himself knew.
When the injured man started to |
turn the machine, San Antonio had
been less than ten miles ahead—little
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 than anything in
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
tonio 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
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 sur-
geon, who knew Shaw's story, said to
the aviator.
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 to do and all that, but it doesn’t
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,
friendly gleam again.
“Well, old timer,” Shaw greeted
him.
Burke's eyes clouded. “Say,” he
spoke without preamble, they tell me
I've been raving ever since you
brought me in—and fighting every-
body in the hospital. Seems to me I
was flying— having lots of trouble—
and it was too real fo be a dream.”
He passed a hand over his eyes. ‘I
“You can go in and see |
——
can remember parts of it. Shaw, did
I pull anything dumb when I was in
your plane? I've been worrying.” he
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
everything 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
whistling merrily as he went down
the corridor. —Huntingdon Reforma-
tory Record.
PINCHOT OFF ON THEIR
CRUISE TO SOUTH SEAS.
A forty-year-old dream of former
Governor Pinchot, since his student
days at Yale, is about to come true.
March 20 the Mary P., three-masted
auxiliary schooner lifted anchor off
Brooklyn and sailed for a nine-
months’ voyage among the sunny is-
lands of the South Seas.
That's the dream of 63-year-old
Ex-Governor Gifford Pinchot, whose
vocation has been forest conserva-
tion, whose avocation has been poli-
tics, and who has been a life-long
fisherman. He now intends to angle
for the exotic denizens of the waters
below the equator, and his party will
gather specimens for half a dozen
scientific institutions.
Mrs. Pinchot and their son, Gifford
Bryce Pinchot, 15, accompany the
former Governor and the distinguish-
ed scientists who will be his guests.
Mr. Pinchot said:
“We will weigh anchor at Brooklyn
March 20, and have decided to forgo
a stop at Philadelphia. Instead, we
probably will proceed to Key West,
thence to Havana, Grand Cayman
and the Swan Islands in the Carib-
bean. We intend to obtain specimens
for the collection of porpoise skulls
for the National Museum there.
“Then we will proceed through the
Panama Canal to Galapagos Island,
with a pause for deep-sea fishing. We
hope to bring many specimens of live
fish back to America in tanks.
“From Galapagos we intend to cov-
er the 3000 miles to Marquesas, with
‘stops at Paumotu and Society Is-
lands, with visits at Tahiti, Cook Is-
land and Tubnai. There are many
islands in the vast stretch of this
cruise which should afford interesting
scientific specimens. Pitcairn and
Gambier Island are on the route
home.”
Hetzel Visits Hoover in the Interest
Of Land Grant Colleges.
As chairman of the executive com-
mittee of the Association of Land
Grant Colleges, Dr. Ralph D. Hetzel,
president of the Pennsylvania State
College, recently spent several days in
Washington where he interviewed
President Herbert Hoover, various
members of the cabinet and leaders of
Congress relative to the introduction
of legislation looking to the develop-
ment of the work of the state colleges
and universities.
i New legislation at Washington is
to be directed especially towards the
further development of research and
extension in the Land Grant Colleges,
of which Penn State is the Keystone
representative. President Hetzel ex-
pects to spend a part of this week in
Washington in connection with hear-
ings on the proposed legislation.
Following a conference with Gover-
nor John S. Fisher and other officers
‘at Harrisburg, President Hetzel re-
ports that he found a most sympathet-
ic attitude towards the requirements
of the college.
On Thursday of last week a sub-
committee of the House Appropria-
tions Committee made an official visit
of inspection to State College. They
lative attention to building needs at
the college. Students gave the com-
mittee a great welcome at a mass
, meeting in the Schwab Auditorium.
| The college appropriation bill calling
, for $6,211,000 will soon be reported
| out of committe at Harrisburg. It in
| cludes $2,250,000 for new buildings, a
. feature for which the bond issue was
intended.
i —d A ee
April Fool and Easter.
We have never connected April
estors did.
inated from the mocking of our Lord
at Easter time. The Jews, on the
whatever to do with Lent, but a great
deal to do with the Bible, for it was
on the first of April that Noah sent
out the first bird to find land—a fool-
ish errand! So do we send April
fools on fools’ errands.
Quite a Trick These Days.
She: “What would you call a man
who hid behind a woman's skirts?”
He: “A magician." —Powerfax.
—“Money Matters” reads a head-
ing in a contemporary. We quite
agree. It does.—Humorist (London).
—Sambo: “Did Brudder Brown gib
de bride away?”
Rastus: “No, sah; he’s gwine let de
groom fin’ her out for hisself.”
saw at first hand how the failure of
the glow of lights that was San An- ye §8000,000 bond issue amendment |
has made necessary immediate legis- '
other hand, say the day has nothing !
1928 STATISTICS GIVE HOPE
FOR LONGER LIVES.
A large insurance company with
more than 18,00,000 policy holders
keeps accurate records of the causes
of death because only by such records
can the company definitely provide
for the future. It has just announced
reports for 1928, which contain sev-
eral factors of great significance in
relation to public health.
The figures indicate that the ex-
pectancy of life among wage earners
was, in 1928, 56..42 at birth, whereas
in 1911 and 1912 it was 46.63 years.
The life expetancy of the industrial
population has gained 9.79 years dur-
ing the 16-year period, as contrasted
with the gain of only 6.06 years for
the general population. No doubt,
this is a reflection to a considerable
extent of the increased attention be-
ing given to industrial hygiene and
industrial health.
Druing 1928, the death rate from
typhoid fever, scarlet fever, diphthe-
ria, tuberculosis, diarrhea complaints
and conditions associated with child-
birth were lower than before. On the
other hand, the rates for heart dis-
ease rose, as did also those for can-
cer.
These rates are perhaps associated
with increased longevity and with
the fact that people are now dying
of diseases of advanced age rather
than the infectious diseases which
carried men off early in the past.
Of greatest importance perhaps
was the increase in death rate from
diabetes. Since 1911, the death rate
from that disease has increased 34
per cent, notwithstanding the fact
that insulin has prolonged the lives
of thousands of diabetics.
Since the introduction of insulin,
the death rates from this disease
have come down for all age groups
up to 45. Between 45 and 65 years
of age, no important change has oc-
curred, and the deaths from diabetes
after 65 years have shown a distinct
and significant rise.
It must be understood that insulin
does not cure diabetes in the true
sense of the word “cure.” It takes
the place of a missing secretion from
an organ called the pancreas, which
provides a substance that aids the
human body in sugar digestion.
The speed and stress of modern
life are definitely associated with the
increased incidence of diabetes. It
is known that great mental stress or
great physical exercise can cause
sugar to appear in the urine, hence
the battle against diabetes would
seem to be associated with the war-
fare against the speed and strain of
modern life, as well as with the pure-
ly physical attempt to provide assist-
ance for incapable human organ.
WHY TYPEWRITER KEYBOARD
IS ARRANGED AS IT IS.
Explaining why keys on the type-
writer are placed as they are one
typewriter company says: “The first
commercially successful typewriter,
which was placed on the market
about fifty years ago, contained a
keyboard almost identical with that
used at the present time. The reten-
tion of this keyboard is undoubtedly
due to the fact that hundreds of thou-
sands of typists have learned it, so
that it has become practically univer-
sal, and prejudice towards a change
causes manufactures to continue with
the desires of the majority of those
who use it. When all is said and
done, the present arrangement of
things is a pretty good one. To at-
tempt to make a radical scientific
change would, in our opinion, not be
feasible. J K might be rearranged
with advantage. We do not know
why these particular letters were
placed on the second row of keys.
Certainly their position is not the
best for a touch typist. However,
touch typewriting was not known in
the early days of the typewriter, so
that the position of J and K was not
so important at the time the order of
letters was arranged. The reason for
the present arrangements has never
been satisfactorily explained so far
as we know. We think the printers’
csae had something to do with the
arrangement, and also that the ar-
rangement was effected by the fact
that the keys were in a circular bas-
ket and this arrangement to some ex-
tent prevented the keys from casting.
We think also that whoever arranged
the letters had some thonght for the
sequence of the letters and tried, as
far as possible, to harmonize the dif-
ferent points we have mentioned.”
tr A
PATCHWORK ON
VOTER’S TAXES.
Attention has already been called
to the clumsy measures before the
Legislature for bringing tax liability
into harmony with franchise require-
ments. It will be recalled that a poll
tax was proposed for Federal em-
ployees who, by reason of their ex-
emption from an “occupation tax,”
fail to meet the qualification for vot-
ing implied in the payment of a State
.or county tax. Likewise it has been
proposed to restore the tax on horses
and cattle in order to permit tenant
farmers, who had no other taxable
property, to attain the same status
as that suggested for the Federal
: Fool's day with Easter, but our an-
They said the day orig- | Fployees
The end is not yet. A resolution
before the House Committee on Ways
and Means would amend the old act
of 1844 in order to assess an occupa-
tion tax on farmers. The plan has
at least the merit of a step toward
uniformity. A resolution before the
House Committee on Education
would exempt housewives from the
maximum of $5 a head which must
school districts are assessing the
per capita tax. At present many
be collected from every member of
a family who is of voting age, though,
being a local tax, it does not carry
the ballot privilege. Often the pay-
ment is a serious burden, and relief
from the injustice should not be de-
layed. Both these bills are prefer-
abe to the Federal employee and cat-
tle levels.—Philadelphia Inquirer.
————
—Read the Watchman for the news
NEW FOOTBALL RULES
ADOPTED FOR 1929.
Under the new football rules there:
will be no such thing as long runs for
touchdown after scooping up fumbles.
In the past, a ball which had been
fumbled was free and might be pick-
ed up and advanced by either team.
Now a fumbled ball recovered by the:
opposing side will be dead at the
point of recovery. The fumbling elev-
en, however, may pick up the ball
and continue its advance.
Roy Riegels’ famous wrong-way
run in the California-Georgia Tech
game at Pasadena New Year's day
would have been impossible under the:
new legislation announced by the Na-
tional Football Rules committee af-
jor a three-day session at Absecon,.
ud
The new rule will not apply in
case of forward or backward passes.
which are intercepted before striking"
the ground, nor will it apply to block-
ed kicks, which will be played as:
heretofore.
Three other
were made
follows:
First. All kicks legally recovered:
by the kicking side may now be ad-
vanced in accordance with the uni-
form rules. This rule now includes:
free kicks and kick-offs, whereas it
formerly applied only to kicks from
scrimmage.
Second. On forward passes no
players on the side in possession of"
the ball who have crossed the line of
scrimmage shall interfere with an op-
ponent until the ball has been touch-
important changes:
in the rules for 1929 as.
ed except in an actual attempt to
catch the ball. .
Third. The try-for-point after
touchdown will be made from the
two-yard line instead of the three
yard line.
STUDY WASTE COAL
FOR BETTER FUEL.
To obtain wealth from waste coal,
remarkable secret experiments are
being conducted in a lonely spot in
South Wales. Should they be success-
ful, the anthracite industry will be-
revolutionized and probably the fu-
ture of the mining world.
The problem is to find a means to-
separate the small coal or “duff”
from the dirt. This small coal has:
been a drug-on the market and the:
fact that it is a waste product has:
added to the general cost of produc-
tion.
In a hidden corner of the hills be-
tween Neath and Brecon, chemists:
and engineers have, on behalf of a.
big combine in South Wales, been
trying to solve the difficulty.
| To insure secrecy all connected
i with the work have to give a guar-
antee of silence and are also warned’
that no stranger is to be allowed near:
the work.
Not only have the experiments
been extraordinarily successful up-
to date, but the coal is graded into:
sizes varying from grains to “flour”
so fine that it cannot be loaded into:
trucks.
All these sizes have a commercial’
value equal to that of the largest
coal. The “flour” will probably be
mixed with heavy oil and used for:
heating.
PENN STATE TO OFFER
MANY MUSIC COURSES.
The Institute of Music Education
which will be conducted at the Penn-
sylvania State College Summer Ses-
sion from July 1 to August 9, will’
‘offer the most complete selection of’
‘music courses ever given at the Col-
lege, according to an announcement
by Dean W. G. Chambers, director of
the session.
The Institute will be under the di-
ection R. W. Grant, director of music
at Penn State, assisted by James:
Woodside, of New York, who will be
in charge of private lessons in voice,
and a faculty of 16 supervisors and’
instructors of music education. Sev-
enteen couress for supervisors of mu-
sic, including sight reading, dictation,
theory, harmony, melody, practice
teaching, chorus work and ifistruc--
tion in music appreciation will be
taught at the institute as well as 16
courses especially adapted for super-
visors of public school instrumental’
music.
FORECAST BETTER
1929 WHEAT CROP.
Prospects on March 1, according to
| the federal-state crop reporting ser-
| vice, were bright for a larger wheat:
| crop in Pennsylvania than a year ago..
' Due to snow protection, the condition:
of wheat was 10 per cent. higher than:
| a year ago for the 1928 crop.
i Wheat stocks on farms and quan--
tity shipped are both below average,
according to the report. Last year's
harvest was the shortest in several
years and it is reported that on ac--
count of the quality a larger percent-
' age of the crop than usual was ground’
i for feed. There seems to be a shortage:
| of Pennsylvania wheat for milling. In
some districts the shortage is so
' great that it is necessary to ship in
wheat from other States for chicken
feed.
rm — A reser.
Amen! Amen!
An old negro got up one night at.
a revival meeting and said:
“Brudders and sisters, you knows:
an’ I knows dat I ain't been what IT
oughter been. “I's robbed ren-roosts..
an’ stole hawgs, an’ told lies, an’ got
drunk, an’ slashed folks with mah
razor, an’ cussed an’ swore; but I
thanks heaven dere’s one thing I ain't
nebber done—1I ain’t nebber lost mah
religion.—Tit-Bits.
Up A Tree.
A man staying at a hotel in the
Provinces went to the office and said’
to the young lady in charge: “I have
never seen such dirty towels in my
life, and I never can find any soap.”
“You've got a tengue in your head,
haven't you?” retorted the young
lady.
“Yes,” replied the traveler, “but
I am not a cat.” ;