Bellefonte, Pa., December 13, 1929
THE GREEDY BOY
‘A little boy last Christmas eve,
The greediest of his race,
“Cause his stocking wasn’t large enough,
‘Hung up a pillow-case.
;
{And when St. Nicholas saw it
(He laughed a hearty laugh:
Says he: “I'll fix this greedy chap,
I'll give him only half.”
And then he took the presents,
Dividing them in two;
Half he put -in the pillow-case,
‘The rest aside he drew. -
‘And then he filled this pillow sock
‘With wrapping paper and string,
‘And all the scraps that he could find
He pushed and packed them . in.
Then he wrote, in a little note:
“If this the sock you wear,
You are too. large and greedy,
And don’t deserve your share.”
But dear old. St. Nick relented
As he was going out. -
Thought he; “I cannot leave that boy
The other half without.
“This pillow-case affair will teach
That greediness gets its due; |
T'll ‘leave the rest in mother’s care,”
Then vanished up the flue. :
..—Rose M. Pent.
-
THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
© Inthe first .place I have nothing to
say against Agamemnon. - Under the
circumstances. he was wholly justi-
fied. The fault was entirely mine.
I am good natured, This, however,
Agamemnon did not understand,
Agamemnon is a dog. Also he is a
bull-dog. In addition he is the most
Incarnate personification of living
ugliness and ferocity. to be found on
earth. That his formidable form and
expression cover a tender nature as-
serts itself. I concede that the
fault was not with Agamemnon.
* When Tommy asked me to his
country place for Christmas eve I
had firmly made up my mind to es-
chew—no-—chew, masticate, swallow,
eat the crust of defeat, drink the
bitter dregs of misery. Had not she
—Luey—refused me? I will say “re-
fused: me,” for I had not asked her
to manry me, though I wag going to
on that very afternoon, but—I leave
it to any impartial lover, sufficiently
in love to be the blind idiot he ought
to be; ‘and therefore in a condition
to understand—I leave it to him
whether when I had telephoned to
find out if Lucy was to be at home,
and she told me she was not—andI
subsequently found out from some
One else that not only had she been
in, but that Dodds—Dodds being of
the genus rival—had been with her
at the exact time she refused to see
me—I ask him—I mean the- blind
idiot, not Dodds—I ask anybody—
whether—my pen is getting out of
breath—that was not the Sufficient
Cause. . : or
~ Still, however and notwithstand-
ing, I could and would have managed
Tommy, for I could have told him
flatly that I would not come. To
Mrs. Tommy, though, I had to give
reasons, and when I have to give
reasons I am lost, Of course I
could not let them know the real
reason, and all that I invented seem-
éd ineffective. Anyhow, Mrs. Tom-
my is very determined, and she said
they wanted me particularly. Lit-
tle I suspected—I am good-natured
and I yielded. I had just made up
my mind to have the most dismal
Christmas I could find or devise. I
had decided to dine at a restaurant,
which of course would be absolutely
deserted. Then I was going in a
taxi-cab to view the Cathedral of
St. John the Divine. Of course that
is not a ruin, but incompleteness is
as near as we can get in this coun-
try to ruin, and I thought I remem- |
Jered I had heen told that it could
not be finished for a hundred yer rs.
There was something solemn in the
thought. That was what I wanted,
and best expressed my state of mind,
solitude and: solemnity. In that
mood I should never have gone to
Tommy’s. Nevertheless I had no
idea how far he was going to push
the festivities of the season, and the
limits of good-fellowship,
+ I was at once rendered curious
and suspicious on my arrival at the
Dorringtons’ country house. The
groom who brought me from the
station did not drive to the main
door but to a side entrance—in fact.
to an extremely rear ingress which
took me through the servants’ hall
ence I was conducted up an escalier
e service and through many out-of
way passages. Only after a lengthy
approach I met Agamemnon.
I had stayed at the Dorringtons’ of-
ten, and for long times, and Aga-
memnon and I were old friends. He
understood from picnics in the past
that I had ‘a large mindedness about
tidbits of which he entirely approv-
ed. He received me joyfully. He
advanced with that waggling of the
tail and wriggling of the body with
which the
dence of welcome,
and patted him on the head. Tommy
was waiting for me outside the quar- | 8Y
i not intended for
: Directly and distinctly
canine - spirit gives evi. | received the
I was pleased | teeth.
ters which I always had: Still I was |
not enlightened as to the neason of addressing endearing terms to a
Immedi- | dreadnought.
ately I was hurried off to view the ; coming serious.
my mysterious reception.
Christmas tree, which was evidently |
the momentary pride of the Dorring-
tons. Again I was taken by a cir-
cuitous route and in a stealthy man- |
ner.
The house is naturally attractive.
I will not deny that there
something cheerful in the glimpses
I got of red-ribboned wreaths and
red-berried holly, The tree was in
a room from which all the little
Tommys and Tommasinas and their
cousins and cousines had been kept
far away. With its great branches
bending with the weight of presents,
and checked with a wealth of glitter-
ing trinkets it was very gay. Behind
it was a scenic representation of a
chimney-piece in which a tinsel fire
burned merrily about a paper-mache
log.
hen, however, the full require-
ments of the situation were made
known to me Y balked. They did
|
not even approach the matter gent-
ly. They came out with it as a mat-
ter of course. I was to be Father
Christmas. Now again I leave it to
any competent committee on sub-
jects of sentiment, whether it was
fitting—whether it was possible for
a blighted being to dress himself up
in a long, red, ermine-trimmed robe,
and a peaked holly-crowned hat; to
put on a rubicund mask having a
beamingly benevolent aspect, and a
long cotton wool beard, Could such
trappings be allowed to cover an
aching heart and a desperation of
the deepest dye of ? Never.
That is what I told them. That is
what I kept telling them—announc--
ing that I simply could not do it,
They kept telling me that I must.
They declared that juvenile minds
were wide awake, and that unless all
of those known to them were pres-
ent and accounted for, the authentic-
ity of the representation would be
doubted. I was the only one, com-
ing from away as I had, who could
fill the part. This accounted for the
way in which I had been smuggled
into the house.
Should I be slaughtered to make
a Christmas holiday? I protested, I
have said Mrs, Tommy was very
determined, and I was very good-
natured. I yielded. The Christmas
tree was to be early in the evening.
Afterward we were to dine while
the children supped festively. In se-
clusion upstairs Tommy and Mrs.
Tommy invested me with the hate-
ful garments.
“I'll fasten on the mask very se-
curely,” said Mrs, Tommy, “so that
it shall certainly not fall off.”
Little I knew—
“What are my stage directions and-
business,” I mumbled from its sti-
fling depths.
“The presents are all marked,”
directed Mrs. Tommy, “so that all
you have to do will be to call off the
names—and shake hands with all
the children.: They like that.”
“And,” ‘added Tommy, “you might
dance about a bit. Its not exactly
in character, but it will add liveli-
ness.”
“Yes,” broke in Mrs, Tommy,
“You are to do everything you can
to give the impression that you are
carried away in a perfect whirlwind
of jollity—are in an absolute exuber-
ant ecstasy of high spirits.”
And I was broken-hearted; in the
deepest gloom of a hopeless future.
Music sounded merrily from below.
I shut my ears to it. Every now
and then a childish shout of glee
could be heard above the clamor of
mirthful childish voices.” I' harden-
ed my spirit against such incongrui-
ties. I would go through with it :
but I would not be happy about it. :
“I'm ready to go down,” I an-;
nounced, 1
“Oh, it isn’t : as simple as that,”
said Tommy. “You have to come in'
from the outside. That's what the
chimney-place is for. You come in |
through a window that is open and
out through the chimney.”
..Again I objected. I did not want
to leave the warmth of the house.
Mrs. - Tommy, however, prevailed. I:
was led down in the same devious;
and hidden manner in which I had
been brought up. At.the door of the !
servants’ hall I was thrust out-into .
the cold, piercing air. Tommy stood :
at the door urging me forward. :
“Now run about that corner, and
you'll find the open window,” he en- |
joined. “All will be ready. I've got |
to get back.” i
He shut the door. That he bang-
ed it I took as an aggravation.
There I stood arrayed in that Merry !
Andrew fashion in the bitterness,
stillness, and loneliness of the win- |
ter night. The moon was shining
brilliantly. The tall ever-greens cast,
vivid shadows across the snow-cov- |
ered lawn. The stars twinkled, but
it seemed to me with an unsym-
pathetic hardness, My heart and my ;
spirit went down even farther. I;
set forth. My evening clothes were
out-of-doors in a |
December night, and the mantle of |
St. Nicholas was thin. I hastened |
foeward.
I had not advanced a dozen steps
when I heard a sound. It was not
a pleasant sound. The low mutter-
ing of a coming storm, softly min-
gled with the noises of a zoo at the |
hour of food, with just a touch of |
the more serious notes of a fog |
horn, together with the gurgle of a,
bathtub running out, offer inade- |
quately an idea of the disturbance. |
in my path:
stood Agamemnon, He was perfect-
ly still, looking at me; not, however,
as if in any indecision. He had
clearly made up his mind, and was
only delaying in a luxury of antici-
pation as .a gourmet might over
which choice morsel of a plate to
choose first. I stopped instantly. |
Immediately I tried the power of the
human voice, I realized that the
tones proceeding as they did from
behind the mask were wholly un-
recognizable by Agamemnon. In-
deed, they appeared to infuriate him |
more. His feet on which he stood
so firmly spread apart. The hairs
on his back begal to rise. His lower
lip dropped, affording me a more ex-
cellent view—which I did not wish-of
the row of ivory spikes which have
insufficient name of
“Nice dog-
“Good dog,” I cajoled.
I felt as futile ‘and as silly asone
The situation was be-
It was sefous, for
if Agamemnon ever got a grip on
me 5 could. only be detached with
some part of that part of my per-
son on which he had fastened.
made a move back toward the door. |.
At that instant Agamemnon madea
‘was | spring. He had placed himself be-
tween me and that haven of refuge.
I called. I shouted, This appea:
an affront which Agamemnon was
not prepared to endure. In his opin-
jon the presence of a person on the
Dorrington lawn in my present
guise was wholly unfitting. In this
I agreed perfectly. If he could have
known my opinion and sentiments
we should have been joined in per-
fect ateord. However, he did not.
The imminent probability was that
we. should be at once joined in an
entire different manner. Addition-
ally that such a being should venture
to break the peace was a red rag
He did not make a rush. He ad-
vanced gradually with slow fate-
ful inevitableness. I had no such
deliberation in my movements, I
went. I have no hesitation in say-
ing that I grabbed that robe and
took to my heels.
A big oak, the glory of the Dorring-
ton park was all that saved me. Its
great trunk separated us. I could
not see him, but I could hear him
barking madly, Momentarily I fan-
cied that they might hear him at
the house and understand that
'wrath. I could hear him clawing
the sill in his mad longing to reach .
| me. Still I turned: toward the win-
dow. Too late. Some one stood in
the doorway. At a glance I saw
that it was Lucy. My Lucy. Alas,
I could say that no longer, Not
mine even in hope any more. Had
I not proof positive that she did not
care for me, and the next time that
Imet her—I had not quite formed
{in my mind the composite character
which I was to offer for her obser-
vation. I had a vague idea of ap-
something was wrong. But no, if | pearing before her with something
they noticed anything they would
only think that it was cats. I was
.of the mysterious gloom of a Ham-
let, while maintaining the majestic
temporarily abandoned to my fate. ' presence of the ghost touched with
Of course they would wonder at my the airy cynicism of a Mercutio.
non-appearance and presently would | How far I was from my ideal in
come to discover the cause; 'I had | those. grotesqué trappings, wearing
only to remain there long enough— | that benevolent mask, with the per-
if only Agamemnon would let me, | sistent Agamemnon striving to
Just then Agamemnon started with reach me, I realized only too well.
a rush. Only by a hurried circuit| “What is it, Amy?” I heard her
of the tree I escaped. He kept on. ask.
I kept on. In this fashion we went: “Santa Claus!” shouted the little
about the tree several times. I tried girl, ecstatically. .
to tear off the robe and mask, but, “Really,” said Lucy, gazing at me,
everything was too firmly fastened. | and then she continued, speaking to
| stride
‘struck out for the open.
non, with a snarl of.delight,. rushed '
to him which served as a last straw.
Agamemnon would not give me time
nor chance. : :
And all this time that misguided,
well-intentioned, entirely objection- |-
able animal was only executing his
mission as he saw it. In trying to
tear to tatters suc: a wholly inex-
plicable apparition he was only ful-
filling his whole duty as dog. He
was fulfilling it, and filling full—to
the very fullest—the measure of all
that was required of him as the
faithful watch-dog. “Up and at’em”
was the motto fixed
in Agamem-
non’s soul, and h e was at fle and
nearly up to me. I knew this could
not last, In waltzing about that oak
he would soon get the better of me. |
Was the intelligence of man to be no
match for blind brute force?
spiration. The snow under the trees
was more than a foot deep. . In go-
ing” through it Agamemnon with his
short legs and heavy body would be
at a disadvantage, With my greater
there was hope for me. I
Agamem-
after me. He imagined that I had
given myself into his hands—or
rather his jaws, Almost at once he
i struck a drift and learned his mis-
take.
He almost stuck wallowing
in the snow. I made good time. Yet
in my dress, with such going I was
not breaking: any records, I was no
more than just out of. his reach.
. Across
ly after me. The work that was cut
out for me was not easy. In a po-
sition so lacking in the heroic I may
be permitted to brandish for a mo-
ment my own laurels. Not so very
many moons before I had carried
the ball for a gain of eighty yards
against the strongest defense that
Harvale had ever put up, with the
whole stadium on its feet cheering
my achievement. The run was noth-
ing
taking that midwinter night. = The
Dorrington park was large. Vigor-
ously I anathematized that avuncu-
lar relative of Tommy's who had en-
dowed him with a wealth which per-
mitted such a wholly useless possgs-
sion, I tore on, now througha
clump of bushes, now down a shrub-
by dell—and up again. I did not
know the country. I was following
no line,
keep on -blindly. I say blindly, but
just at that moment my eyes caught
a light turned toward . it. Aga-
memnon. labored. after me. He was
giving no tongue at present, but I
knew that did not mean that he was
weakening. The point on which
Agamemnon was strongest was
hanging on to the bitter end.” I
could only hope that it might not be
—well—any bitten end of me. :
_ I tumbled myself through and ov-
er a hedge. Another country house
rose before me. I sprang onto its
surrounding veranda. Agamemnon
would reach it in" a second. Unless
I . could open - a window ' and get
through it I was lest: I tried the
first I saw. It moved. .I pushed it
"up and sprang over the sill. The
finish if not neck to neck was nose
to heel. At my disappearance, he
stationed himself on the veranda,
barking ‘vociferously. The more he
barked as indicating his disappoint-
ment the more I liked it until I re-
flected that the noise would certain-
ly call attention to my unceremon-
ious arrival. Again I tried to tear
off the mask, but indeed Mrs. Tom-
my had fixed it as if to stay for-
ever. I could see that the room in
which I found myself was lit with
only one lamp. Also it was unoccu- |
pied, though only for a moment was
I alone. Suddenly I heard the awed
piping treble of a little girl's voice.
“Oh, Santa Claus! Dear Santa
Claus!” ;
“Not a bit,” I said, impatiently, to
the little girl who had run in,
“Oh !"” she continued in the same
softly reverential tone, “I had al-
most begun to think that you were
not real, Wasn't that ridiculous of
me? But you are and now you have
come and the reindeers are outside.”
“Reindeers don’t bark,” I remon-
strated, and added as I heard Aga-
memnon’s blood-curdling bays, “not
like that.” :
“I am so glad to see you,” she
cried, clasping her hands.
In the presence of such trust and
confidence and heartfelt satisfaction
I couldn't do otherwise than get in-
to the picture.
“T haven't brought you anything.”
I said,
“Never mind,” she answered po-
I, litely, “I know that you will.”
“What would you like?” I asked,
recklessly.
Please,” she exclaimed, “a ring
with a blue stone in it.”
“You shall have it,” I replied with
lavish mangificence.
The result was wholly unexpected.
In the excitement of her delight she
ran back to the door.
“Aunt Lucy! Aunt Lucy!” she
called. ’
Still in this dense!
Lucy. popu.
lated world there might very well
be two feminine beings having that
not uncommon name. The tiny maid-
en remained on the threshold calling
eagerly. Outside the window Aga-
memnon passing through a diapason
of growls and howls was exploding
cannonade of deep-throated
in a
I was’
struck” by a sudden and happy in-!
the Dorrington park - we |
raced, Agamemnon struggling game- |
in difficulty to the one I was
All that I could do was to |
me, “Perhaps you will explain.”
{© “Does Saint Nicholas need tc be
explained?” 1 asked intrepidly.
~ “In this matter-of-fact and doubt-
| ing age,” she answered, “I am afraid
yes. How do I know that you are
not a burglar?” :
| “Are you going to destroy this
, touching belief of . Amy's?” I re-
monstrated. “Think of the loss of
her if she finds that she is mistak-
en.” : rat
“Think also of the loss if we find
, the silver missing and I find my
pearls gone.”
| - “TI am not a burglar,” I declared,
desperately. : ;
{| “Then why this disguise?”
“It’s Santa Claus,” insisted Amy.
“You see,” I said,
“Amy,” she directed, “run away.
Santa Claus and I have to talk
about something.”
.. “You shall have the ring with the
blue - stone in it,” I promised.
“All right,” agreed Amy, cheer-
, fully, “but I sha'n’t stay away long
when Santa Claus is here.”
“Of course,” said Lucy, as the lit-
tle girl ran out of the room, “I rec-
ognized your voice at once.”
“I did not expect to be here. I do
not want to be here, as you may im-
agine. - Tommy Dorrington got me
into this, Not that I've not been a
fool myself, but I didn’t. think that
I should see you. I did not want to
| see you.” - :
“Why not?”
i “Because you did not want to see
.me. ‘When you told me that you
would not be at home, and then
Dodds was there—"
“I met Susan Illsley and Mr.
Dodds,” she explained, “just as I
was going to see my old nurse, as
Itold you I was going to do. I had
to go back with them.”
i + “Oh” I exclaimed,
lamely. !
- *T should be very indignant—and
—and hurt” she gave an excellent
representation of being ready to
cry, “that you thought that I could
say anything so untrue.” . :
| © “All right,” I admitted, “I have
been an idiot. I don’t hesitate to
say it,” I continued, drawing nearer
‘to her, and at last tearing off the
mask. “But I shouldn’t love you so
much if I could be less of an idiot—
about it.”
“I suppose,” she admitted, doubt-
fully, “that is so.” ;
An instant later Amy appeared,
and once more her childish pipe was
raised, this time in
amazement.
“Oh! Oh!” she cried with a carry-
ing, piercing clearness that brought
every one in the house hurrying to
the scene, “Santa Claus is kissing
Aunt Lucy.” :
I think Agamemnon is the only
one who is still puzzled, and for
whom, if possible, a little elucida-
tion would be well. I am afraid,
though, that he will never under-
stand, When I had been carried
back to the Dorringtons’ in the mo-
tor which was waiting to take Lucy
and her niece .to the Dorringtons’
_child’s party; when I had made at
‘last my successful entrance through
the canvas
blankly = and
1
|
part with a vim and hilariousness
that won unbounded applause; when
afterward in my own person and
clothed -accordingly I met Agamem-
non, he was clearly at a loss. My
voice as. I spoke cordially to him
seemed to hold for him something
reminiscent. He was perplexed
apologetic, and propitiative. Howev-
er, unresérvedly I forgave him.
| .
The Fauble 43rd Anniversary
Sale is calling you,
; ie
| STATE STUDENTS WILL
" ENTERTAIN LITTLE FOLKS
The student Y. M. C. A, at - the
Pennsylvania State College will hold
its annual children’s Christmas par-
ty on Saturday afternoon in the col-
lege armory. The children are mem-
bers of the six rural Sunday schools
conducted by members of the Y.
This party, held each year just be-
for the college Chirstmas vacation,
is the high spot of the Y. M, C, A.
extension program. Many of the lit-
tle guests arrive several hours ear-
ly in order not to miss anything,
and some of them walk several miles
It is expect- |
in order to be present.
ed upwards of 150 will attend this
Ya ert R. Finley, of McKeesport,
has promised that Santa Claus will
be present and - will probably have
gifts for the little folks. He said
other transportation was being ar-
ranged for him if the snow should
continue to melt and make his sleigh
unavailable,
In giving the party the Y, M. C.
A. has the assistance of the college
administration and of several mer-
chants in that town.
The Fauble 43rd Anniversary
Sale is calling you.
—The Watchman gives all the news
worth reading, all the time.
even greater
fireplace behind the
Christmas tree, and had played my
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
DAILY THOUGHT.
did a golden deed,
proved a friend in need;
sang a beautiful song,
smiled the whole day long
thought “Tis sweet to live,
said, “I am glad to give;
fought a valiant fight,
lived to shield the right;
somebody you?
Somebody
Somebody
Somebody
Somebody
Somebody
Somebody
Somebody
Somebody
Was that
—It has been definitely proven
that women will wear wool—and like
it. The different varieties in the
shops speaks well for the imagina-
tion and ingenuity of the woolen
manufacturer. The choice not only
includes plain but figured woolens in
a wide range of colors, the mostim-
portant of which are red, violent,
green and brown.
Recognition of the natural waist-
line is peculiar to wool as well as silk
dresses, and self and contrasting
belts are both approved. Suede belts
some as wide as four inches, are
smartly introduced to help create
the desirable high waistline.
Three and even four-piece ensem-
bles continue to be shown, but the
wool dress need not necessarily have
a matching coat or even jacket.
Fine jerseys remain in vogue and
combinations of jersey with tweed
are acclaimed. Tuck-in dresses with
short, and often contrasting, jackets
are effective for either town or
country wear.
The wool dress is cut on more
generous lines than formerly; its
skirt is both longer and wider, the
flare or released plait being usually
at a low line.
Fascinating little tricot turbans
and berets are logical and entirely
satisfactory companions to such a
wool costume.
—English velvet is leading Paris
fashions for winter days and nights,
Old fashioned velveteen which rep-
resents the revival of an old classic,
is to be seen in all the smart collec-
tions for either morning, afternoon
or evening.
_ Used for tailored forms, it proves
a perfect medium for defining lovely
without overcharging the silhouette
with drapes and flounces. One lead-
er uses it in tilleuel green for one
of the new - evening ensembles that
have a tailored touch. The waist is
faintly ruched at the normal point
under narrow incrusted tailored band
which receive shoulder straps of
the same material. The skirt glides
over the hips under strapped bands
that terminate just above the knee.
--Not only do the palms of the
hands convey the past or future.
© The tops of the hands, terminat-
ing ‘in nails that were given to us
perfectly groomed at birth, speak
eloquently of care or neglect.
How. many times do we observe
women who are carefully dressed
from hat to shoes, with glowing
complexions, and well kept hair,
who seek to hide their hands
beneath their napkins at the lunch-
eon table?
It isn’t just the woman of leisure
today who boasts ‘of beautifully
kept hands. Science is showing -the
housewife how to dispense with that
rough, red look that comes from put-
ting the hands in severely hot wa-
ter and using soaps with heavy lye
foundations. Rubber gloves, worn
. when getting into corners with the
dust-mop, also help to preserve the
soft texture: and whiteness of the
hands. rR RE
I recall advice given. several years
ago by an older woman to one who
was about to start housekeeping.
This woman had done the family
chores for years and yet had hands
as white as any prima donna’s. They
i had been kept in this condition, she
said by keeping a bag of ordinary
oatmeal close to the basin, and when
| she was through with her dish-wash-
meal into her hands, thus
ing out the discoloration caused by
the hot water.
~ Unless a woman is very stout,
she does not have the plump, dim-
pled hands that one admires so on a
baby but which are not so sought
after later on in life. Rather, the
hands are the first telling talisman of
‘age. Unless they are well nourished
with creams or oils, they shrivel up
.and wrinkle just as the face does.
The good old-fashioned - mixture of
f glycerine and rose water is an excel-
(lent tomic, particularly in cold
{ weather . when they are likely to
(chap from exposure, However, in
i this age, when warm suede gloves
| are procurable, it is quite unneces-
! sary for anyone to expose hands, and
particularly wrists, to the elements.
i ~ The nails should be treated in re-
| lation to the hands, as the hair is
{dressed as a complement to the
| face. Their length and shape de-
i pends upon whether the hands are
i square or long, whether the fingers
‘taper or are short and stubby. An
extremely long, pointed nail is
slightly out of place on a short,
| pudgy hand, but by modifying the
‘length and shaping them gradually
| to a point, the fingers may take on
a longer, graceful appearance. The
tall, willowly type with slender hands
! may go in for the very long nails
| because they accentuate her type.
She, however, must see that they do
not resemble talons.
The color chosen for a polish
must harmonize with one’s own col-
loring. A dark, colorful woman may
choose a slightly darker hue for her
nails without attracting = too much
‘attention, where the woman who goes
in for a pale make-up will over-
accentuate her hands if she chooses
a nail polish that is too ruddy. On
the whole, however, it is best to
avoid a polish that is too red or
too orange in tone, for they are not
"in good taste, particularly in the
day time when the light is harsh
- distorts color values.
'
| To mend a hole in a silk or
| worsted garment, unravel a thread
‘or two from the seam,
Before you paint your rooms,
| mend the cracks. There are several
i kinds of mending plaster on the
i market which, when mixed with
| water. will do the job easily and
| beautifully.
i Brn
|
| Subscribe for the Watchman.
FARM NOTES
Asparagus, rhubarb, and Witloff
chicory are vegetables which may be
produced from December to May.
Forcing these vegetables may be
"done in a cellar where the temper-
ature can be kept from 50 to 60 de-
grees Fahrenheit. : Hi ?
. —Black walnut grows
well-drained, fertile soil. The Penn-
sylvania Agricultural Experiment
Station has found a 10 per cent.
greater survival where tree seed-
lings were planted in furrows in-
stead of unprepared ground,
well on
—Poultrymen of the State will
share a prize fund of $3500 at the
1930 State Farm Products Show in
Harrisburg next month, Turkeys
and capons will be shown and there
will be classes for all kinds of chick-
ens.
—Bacteria causes milk to sour,
They can be . controlledb by thorough-
ly sterilizing milk utenils, removing
loose dirt from the cow’s udder with
a clean, damp cloth before milking,
and cooling the milk as quickly as
possible to 50 degrees F. or less.
—Debudding has developed great-
er terminal growth in young apple
trees than pruning, experiments at
the Pennsylvania State College show.
—Before treating birds for para-
sites or disease be sure that the
trouble exists in the flock, State
College poultry specialists urge.
—Dairy calves should have clean
light stalls or pens and be providec
with an abundance of good feed anc
water during the winter.
~—Plan to take an annual inven.
tory of the farm property at the be.
ginning of the year. Then proceec
to keep books on all farm opera.
tions. Figures sometimes surprise
for losses may occur where profit:
were expected. It pays to know
these facts.
—One of the important essential:
for high egg production in the poul
try flock is that the hens be kep
comfortable.
—To insure absolute dryness th
poultry house should be located o
porous well-drained soil on a slope
preferably to the south or southeast
—Hens can withstand extremel:
cold weather if their house is dr
and well ventilated, The floo
should be well littered so that th
birds do not come in contact wit
the cold floor,
—Electric lights in winter is
way of making things natural fo
hens, who do more work with long
er days. .
—Egg laying is the prime objec
for which poultry is kept. The fe
males must possess the egg-lay
ing characteristics if we wish ou
poultry to pay.
—The number of nests in relafio
to the size of the laying flock durin
the heavy laying season is import
ant. With a sufficient number ¢
nests properly placed there is let
danger of eggs being deposited i
the litter and becoming lost, stej
ped on, or otherwise broken.
i Nests should be darkened; the
ing, she would rub some of the oat-
bleach-
should be so constructed that it ,
easy for one to see and remove tt
eggs. If nests are too large egg
may be broken by two or more her
crowding into them, Twelve I
fourteen inches is suggested for ti
larger breed and ten by twelv
inches for the smaller breeds. Nes
should be easy to remove 1
facilitate cleaning.
—Traditionally sheepmen have b
lieved that the best sheep have co
erings of wool over their faces. A;
other common belief was that fol
around the neck and shoulders of
sheep was an indication of a flee:
of superior quality and value. A
other idea commonly held was th:
the weather exercised a controlli:
influence in the quality and quanti
of wool.
Research work by the Unit
States Department of Agricultu
has disproved two of these ideas ai
confirmed the other, but with a hig
ly important modification. To bri
out the facts, the department wor
ers have for years carried on pair
taking investigations, using metho
which they admit seem wasteful a:
useless until the methods and resu
are understood.
The bureau of animal indust
maintains a flock of sheep in’ ea:
ern Idaho, Each June at sheari
time each sheep is identified, weig
ed, and sheared. The staple is me:
ured. The fleece is weighed. A sa
ple is inclosed in a tin container a
sent to the United States Expe
ment farm, Beltsville, Md. In t
wool laboratory skilled workers ¢
the samples in an electric conditic
ing oven and get the moisture-fi
weight. They remove grease WwW
carbon tetrachloride and the dirt
a special scouring process. Anotl
drying makes possible a determi
tion of the weight of clean wool &
of the dirt. Thus it is possible
compile a complete record of et
sheep’s production each year and
successive years,
These records have disproved °
first two ideas which were wid
believed. Weather does make so
difference in wool production, '
there is much more difference
tween individual sheep in one sea:
than there is between flocks in ¢
ferent seasons. This points the v
dom of constant culling of low-yi¢
ing ewes and selective breeding
heavy fleece production.
Application of these facts on
sheep ranges is returning to she
men each year many times the c
the research, says E. W. Sheets, v
is in charge of the animal husban
work of the Department of Agri
ture, - :
—-Have you saved exhibits for
State Farm Products Show? Lil
al premiums will be awarded
the displays will advertise y
products,