I HOMESICK By HILDA MORRIS. Christine had oosae to Stillville from the city to be a substitute teacher in the township high school. She had been there only a month, but already the country air had begun to work wonders with her pale cheeks and hol low eyes. "If only It weren't so lonesome!" she thought, as she walked a country road one bright, windy Saturday af ternoon. But Just then she heard some one calling. "Hi there!" a man's voice shouted. "•Hi there, Miss Gray!" It was Richard Harding, greeting her in the local fashion. Christine stood and waited as he came striding toward her, a fine, strapping young wan, clad in farmer's overalls and a Jlannel shirt. "Are you taking a walk?" he asked an he caught up with her. His voice liad the easy modulations of an edu cated man. He was a graduate of an eastern college. "Yes, I'm going through your ceme teir It's so quaint! I'm only used to crowded city cemeteries that reach for blocks and blocks. Tell me, are all the people in this town related?" Richard laughed. "Very nearly. The Bullits are related to the Emmets and the Bmmetts to the Hardings and the Hardings to the Bullits again. We're all kin somehow." "All but me," said the girl, laugh ing a little wistfully. "It must seem queer to have so many relations." Richard did not appear to have tieard her remark. He was looking ahead at the big square red brick farmhouse where he lived with his mother and sister. His mother, a sun bonnet on her head, was cutting tul llps from the that bordered the garden walk. She straightened up as they approached, and came to the gate. "Howdy!" she said cordially. "It's right cool for an April day, Isn't It? Have you been walking, Miss Gray? Well, do come in and have a cup of tea. I made some cinnamon cakes this morning that must be eaten." Christine hesitated. "It isn't five o'clock yet," said Mrs. Harding, royally sweeping aside the girl's unspoken objections. Richard was holding the gate open, so almost t>efore she knew it Christine found her self in the big square sitting-room of 'the Harding homestead. She had not been in a private home iof this size for years and years, not !since her childhood days and before long arid years of furnished rooms. The house gave her rather an awesome 'lmpression of vastness and elegance, lit had been solidly built for posterity by a forebsar from New England. Its furniture was mid-Victorian. "Have you always lived in the city?" Miss Lottie Harding asked in her timid voice. Miss Lottie was an "old maid" who spent her years in making endless yards of tatting. "Since I was two," said Christine. "Are your parents living?" pursued Miss Lottie, to whom family was one's 'most Interesting attribute. "No," answered Christine. « This put a somber period on the conversation, broken only when Mrs. 'Harding brought In the tea. i In spite of herself the girl presently began to feel the homelike warmth lof the place. When she left, stepping out into the damp spring dusk, It I seemed as though the chill wind struck her with redoubled force. She shiv ered, and hurried back to her dingy 'room In the village hotel. The next day Christine met Richard Harding on the corner by the post of' 'floe. "Can't you take a drive?" he called eagerly. "My team's Just over yon der." The girl perked her pretty head as though considering. "Why, perhaps," she conceded, "for a little while." Presently they were riding off down a winding road bordered with dog wood and the picturesque flowering Judas tree. "I'm going home next week," she announced, as calmly as though her heart were not beating furiously. "Home?" he queried. "Back to the city, where It Isn't so lonesome. I only came to substitute for a month, anyway, and I'm not used to the country. It's too quiet for me." "I suppose it is," Richard assented, letting the reins drop loosely. "I sup pose you couldn't stand It here. But I've something to ask you, Christine. If I should be willing to come to the city and live your way—give up this quiet country life —would you marry ; me, Christine?" "Leave here!" cried the girl Incredu lous. "Why, Richard, I —l like you best here. You belong here. Oh, Rich ard," she breathed. "I was so home sick! I was going to leave because I could not stand It to see homes and fireplaces and mothers all about me." "Well," he answered joyously, "you needn't ever be homesick again. You have me, all right!" (Copyright, 1917, by the McClure Newspa per Syndicate.) D'Annunzio's Real Name. "iyAnnunzlo" of Italy was once de nounced as a decadent scribbler of flowery and fragrant phrases. The war, however, made him a verile and statesmanlike patriot. During the latest fighting on Carso plateau he has fought hand to hand with his coun try's enemies. By the way, "Gabriele d'Annunzio" is a pen name. The au thor's real name is Gaetano Bapag lutta. E THE GALLY FEUD | By I2OLA FORRESTER. Bruce Farraday had been away from home for so long ihat he had ac tually underestimated the manners and customs of Halsey Gap. He had been home from Rudemeir college about four days. The family had given him to understand that they expected all things of him, and especially that he should run for rep resentative the next autumn. There had been a Farraday in the state legislature from the Gap section ever since West Virginia had walked her own path to statehood. Since the death of Bruce's father fifteen years before, the Gaily family had con trolled the seat. Bart Gaily had gone up for two terms and Wallace had followed In his footsteps. He rode down the mountain road to the little village after mall, loving every foot of the way. It had been years since he had walked that road to school. When he came to the old familiar crossroads, with Its cairn of rock supporting an old sign post, he drew rein. Many a time he had loi tered there waiting for Nance Gaily to come along on her way to school. What had they cared for feuds In those days! She was six, he bare- i ly ten. Resting now in his saddle, while the Captain cropped the sweet clover and sorrel by the roadside, he remembered the day of their great quarrel. He had called her redhead on the way home from school, because she had walked with her cousin Wal lace Instead of him. There had been a fight and Wallace, a strapping, black browed youth of fifteen, had beaten him before her eyes. The sound of horses' hoofs canter ing along the old timber road routed him from reverie. It was Nance. She rode her sorrel mare like a boy, her short curls flying in the morning breeze. As she rode, she was singing Dixie at the top of her lungs, until she caught sight of the silent horseman, and stopped short. Bruce raised his cap In neighborly greeting, noting approvingly the vivid beauty of her young face and spark ling eyes. "Good morning, Miss Nance," he said. "It seems like old times to be waiting here for you. You're looking mighty well." She tossed her head in quick resent ment "I reckon you can keep your compli ments to home, Bruce Farraday. We ain't askin' anythln' from any of you la the complimentary line." She rode on, never looking behind. It was that afternoon that he gave Matt Crawford, local boss of the Dem ocratic caucus, permission to use his name for nomination at the coming elections. "You've got to step lively and look both ways at once," said Sister Belle, when the campaign was In full swing. The next day there was a confer ence between Bruce and Matt Craw ford. Briefly Bruce outlined Bis plan of action. On the Farraday property there was a large old mica mine, un worked since the death of his father. Ever since his arrival he had secretly been probing its possibilities, and felt fairly sure of his ground. < "Matt," he said, "I know a chap with capital, who went to Rudemeir with me. He'll back the old mica mines when I say so. Let's open them now and hire all the available men. Get them on one-year contracts, with op tion of renewal." Matt grinned appreciatively. "I think I'm looking at our next rep resentative," he said. The mine was a success. Boys and men from all districts through the val ley and mountains flocked to work in stead of remaining idle through the summer and autumn, waiting for the Gaily mills to open. Election day told the story. When the votes were counted in the little room back of the post office old Judge Plnkus stroked his Vandyke happily. "I reckon you're beaten, Wally," he remarked through his little glass grat ing at the stamp window. Nance heard the words, too, as she stood by the window. With a muttered oath her cousin rushed past her out into the little square where men were cheering for a Farraday. Blind with fury, he shot out his fist at Bruce, but fell as Bruce caught him with a counter blow on the point of the chin. Bruce le vd to the old oak stump. "Fellow-c-i of the Gap, this is the end of the Gaily feud. Right here Wallace and I have settled old scores, and I want to tell you it's time the Gap joined the march of progress and buried the feud forever. You shake hands with me, Gaily; if you don't Til beat you up until you do, for we're going to be friends from this day on." Wonderlngly the Gap beheld the two shake hands as Bruce left the stump. A minute more, and he was beside Nance, where she stood apart from the others. "Can I help you on your horse?" he asked. "I'm going to see you home." Nance lifted her tear-wet face to his, capitulation in her eyes. "I'm mighty glad you won, Bruce," was all she said. (Copyright, 1917, by the McClure Newspa per Syndicate.) A Real Hardship. "Son, I refuse to pay any more of your poker debts." "That's rather tough, dad," said the glided youth. "My decision Is final." "But, do you realize, dad, that there are practically no facilities in this town for any other games of chance?" PpDDfWI M WW I lJA,&wm<mmm&> BILLY BEAVER. "Billy Beaver," said Daddy, "wanted to build a new home for Mrs. Beaver. ** 'You know, my dear,' Billy Beaver had said, 'we want to be In the fashion and move. It's the time of moving— everyone moves nowadays. To stay In the same home for a long, long ttme Is not considered fashionable.' 44 'Dear me, what a smart, up-to-date beaver you are,' said Mrs. Beaver proudly. «• 'Thank you,' replied Billy Beaver. "'But it's really only In the big cities where they move so much,' said Mrs. Beaver. 'l've heard some of the men talking who were trying to catch the beaver cousins.' "'Yes,' said Billy, 'it Is In the big city, or In any big city I should say, that folks move all the time. In the country they have the same dear old homes for many years.' "'Well, maybe,' said Mrs. Beaver, 'they have new dear homes in the cities.' " 'Maybe,' said Billy. 'But you know how many of the same people we hear about us all the time? That is be cause they don't move.' " 'But still you think you would like to?' asked Mrs. Beaver. " 'Yea.' said Billy Beaver, *1 do be lieve I would.' "So Billy Beaver and Mrs. Beaver had a nice meal of food-wood before they set to work on their new home. "Billy Beaver is one of the hardest working animals there is. An* be set right to his job. "First he made use of some nice country land and a brook. He used the sticks which were left after he had eaten the bark of the wood, and he began to make a dam. "You know the beavers are famous for building dams, canals and all things built with water, land and sticks. "Billy made the dam out of some good mud and he carried It himself to the spot where he was building, carry ing It always between his paws and holding it close to him so as not to lose It as he swam along. "Then he worked over the mud, making It just the height and width he wanted, and using the sticks too. And then he made a fine deep brooklet, which he used as a private driveway to his new home. "He made a handsome home and Mrs. Beaver thought It was beautiful. He swam around, using Ms tall to help him go, and asking Mrs. Beaver If she liked It. "Of course she had to say over and over again that she thought It was a beautiful home and Billy was finally quite sure she liked it. " 'I always build the entrance to any home I make,' said Billy, "under the p= "What a Smart Beaver You Are." „ water. It seems so stupid to enter one's home on dry land.' " 'That Is the way it has always seemed to me,' said Mrs. Beaver. 'I don't believe I could enter my home in any other manner.' •• 'I heard such a strange thing the other day,' said Billy. "'Do tell me,' said Mrs. Beaver, as she took a bite of food-wood. "*1 heard of a beaver in the zoo who wouldn't work when he was watched. And they tell me that all our cousins who live In the zoo are just the same way. They simply will not work when they are being watched. They don't like It It quite annoys them, and so they do nothing while visitors are around.' " 'Do they have many visitors?' asked Mrs. Beaver. " 'Yes,' said Billy, 'they have guests all the time who come to call on them and who make remarks about them. The visitors know the beavers are hard workers and they stand waiting to see the beavers work. " 'But the beavers will not work while people do nothing and just watch them! They think that Is very wrong. They do not think folks should be watching them work —they think that folks should be home working.' "'Well, that Is a good joke,' said Mrs. Beaver. 'So Is the way our cousins In the zoo behave?' " 'Yes,' said Billy, 'and they do all their work at night when no one Is watching.' " 'Dear, dear me,' said Mrs. Beaver, who was very much interested. "'And the last one I heard of,' said Billy, 'had pulled down a big tree in the zoo, by just working at night!'" ■ Hold Up Your Head. Hold up your head and look the world In the eye. A hanging head and a shifty glance speak of self-distrust, and the world has no confidence In the one who doubts himself. PRINCE MAKES CALL| By LOUISE OLIVER. After two years or so of vainly try ing to make Anne think seriously of their cause, the phalanx of suitors of her hand had reluctantly dwindled to two, and the reason of the plural was that Anne herself did not know which one she liked the best. She liked them both as each appealed to a different side of her with equal force. There were two sides to Anne as there are to most American girls— the dreamy, aesthetic, poetical side which Is every wofflan's by nature, the mystic, highly imaginative strain that Inclines to the superstitious and ex plains their love of cats; and the wholesome, hearty, frank, sunny side, independent and reliant, contemptuous of the covert, fond of athletics, and — bulldogs. It was impossible for her to make up her mind which of the two men she cared for most, they were so utterly unlike. Gerson de Palma, dark and Spanish looking, although he boasted of ancestors in every American war, was the last word in culture. Jerry Tllford was the name of the other. He appealed to Anne's Inde pendent side —the side that liked ath letics and bulldogs. Moreover Jerry had a bulldog—a snub-nosed brlndle nnined Prince —which (Jerry referred to him as "who") looked villainous but wept real tears, sat on a chair at the table, and scared the life out of the i park babies by kissing them dog-fash ion whenever he got a chance. Jerry was rather thickly set up— his tailor wept over the way his coats hiked up his back. His fingers were stubby and short and his eyes were gray and about as languorous as two electric headlights. He smoked black cigars, affected tan shoes, loved soft hats, and Prince —and Anne. One day Anne had a headache, a bad one, the kind where you're afraid you won't die —the kind where not only your head aches but every other Organ too Is crying out against exist ence. Anne's mother answered two telephone calls with the news of Anne's Indisposition, which immediately brought two notes by special messen gers. Gerson wrote: "How I long to soothe your poor tormented brow." Jerry's envelope was bulkier, having an enclosure: "You've been eating too much candy, Annie girl, and it's all my fault I'm sending you two grains of calomel —take It in eight doses and then tell your mother to give you a tablespoonful of castor oil. I know what sick headache is, you poor child." Anne was angry—then took the medicine and got better. She answered Jerry's note instead of Gerson'B. But Gerson got In his inning when he gave her the cat. It was a beauti ful creature with long silky fur, a tall like a fox's brush, and deep blue eyes. Jerry hated It and Prince hated it — and Prince had to stay at home now on { girl nights. But Jerry had to go away and leave his fences unguarded—oil wells near Tulsa claimed him for two weeks, and he went with trepidation. He stocked up his lady-love with more flowers and candy, extracted a promise that she would answer his letters and departed, leaving Prince to Sansuki, his Jap, to be aired, fared and cared for gen erally. Sansuki was busy all day so he and Prince walked at night—and one night they went past Anne's. Now Prince was not accustomed to passing that lawn without turning in, so In spite of the Jap's whistling he persisted in making a friendly call and i trotted up the steps. Then stopping suddenly he drew back and growled In ferocious resentment, for there on his particular straw mat lay the hated cat. He let out a wild, Indignant b&rk and plunged madly at his enemy, which flew, a silver-gray streak, out Into the darkness and up a poplar tree on the lawn. "Prince —oh, Prince come here!" called Anne. "Bad doggie. Prince, here Prince." The bulldog still barked at his In-' visible enemy, but was now a paeon of victory. The undesirable one had fled, and that was all he wanted. "Prince, come here." This time he harkened. And remem bering the mat, now his for the taking, he catapulted back to the porch, up the steps and vaulting right Into An ne's lap, a full 60 pounds of canlnlnlty. Anne screamed with surprise, and Prince dropped to the floor. Then De Palma kicked poor Prince with stun ning force straight between the eyes. That decided for Anne in an instant what had worried her for a year. And this is the letter Jerry got in Tulsa: "Dear Jerry: "Prince has been sick, but Is con valescing nicely at my house. I've given the cat away. I like dogs bet ter. When are you coming home? It seems years since you went away. I've something to tell you." And whatever It was, Jerry took the next train. (Copyright, 1917, by the McClure Newspa per Syndicate.) Woman Doctor Rules 4,000. The woman officer of highest rank In the British army Is Mrs. A. M. Chalmers, Watson, M. D., who has Just been appointed chief controller of the women's army auxiliary corps, which has over 4,000 members on duty behind the lines In France. Mrs. Watson Is a sister of Sir Eric Geddes, first lord of the admiralty. She was j the first woman physician graduated 1 ' from Edlnbureh university. . x .-y> :nY*Jp •» \"T;*y ' ~ ' " B ■jriwj I ■ 11 i»u Women of Pennsylvania, have you seen It? —the shadow that dims the sun. Listen? The air seems vibrant as if stirred by distant thunder. A tempest is upon us —a storm worse than any America has known, and ita danger sigaafls are far-flung. The storm has crept In from Trans atlantic shores. The air, too, was surcharged there —made vibrant by the gun-peals of human hate. Take heed! There is a warning for you in these far-flung signals. If you have not read it, read now. War—merciless war— has been un leashed to wreak its fury upon you and yours. The extent to which that fury will ravage America depends very largely upon the part the women of America decide to take in the war. If you and every other woman capa ble of giving some useful service will promptly give that service so that America may strike with crushing ef fect, then the dread of what the war will bring need not be aill upon this ■lde of the Atlantic. Therefore, it remains for you—the women of Pennsylvania and of the na tion —to make a momentous decision. Will you atand back now, auplnely claiming exemption from unusual ef fort upon the plea of eex? Or will you come forward to work In aome useful capacity that will give the fighting men of your country the support they need to win the war? That is what is being asked of you and of every other woman of working age in Pennsylvania. Your decision will mean much to your state and to your country. It may mean even more to you. Remember: The worst trials that defeat brings to a conquered people Invariably are the horrors experienced by Its women. Keep stricken Belgium and outraged France before you—then decide that you will do your utmost to make defeat Impossible for Ameri ca. Every Woman Needed. If you have any doubt about the help of every woman being needed now consider these facts: One million men in Pennsylvania alone have been holding themselves subject to a call to the colors since Registration day, June 5, last. One hundred thousand Tecrults —the pick of the state's manhood —have already been taken from productive employ nWnt for army and navy service. Ad ditional thousands are being drafted with' machine-like precision. Still more thousands have been drafted from ordinary Into war employments. Every man called leaves another gap in the army of production. Every man drawn means, also, that four new workers must be found to produce the things that will give him fighting efficiency. With industry losing Its workmen and, on the other hand, being required to produce a greater output than ever It Is apparent that new labor sources must be tapped or disaster may re sult. Cause of Trouble. "Whut makes some of de trouble," said Uncle Eben, "Is dat a man's liable to git mo' neighborly applause foh wln nln' six bits In a crap game dan foh earnln' two dollars by workln' de same amount o' time." Musical Note. A London electrician has invented a safe that is unlocked by a tuning fork, the vibrations of which cause a wire within the safe to vibrate in har mony with them and operate the mechanism electrically. Fine Workmanship. There is in a museum at Salem, Mass., a cherry stone which contains one dozen silver spoons. The stone Itself Is of ordinary size, but the spoons are so small that their shape and finish can only be detected by the microscope. On another cherry stone, the present whereabouts of which is not given, are said to nave been carved 124 heads, so distinct that the naked eye could distinguish those belonging to popes and kings by their mitres and crowns. You women who have never been required to earn your living—and , there are some hundreds of of you—constitute the most import ant undeveloped labor reserve In Pennsylvania. If you will from patri otic inspiration accept some useful work, even though you do not need to earn money, you will help amaz ingly to solve a labor crisis which, with the country at war, ranks as a positive menace. How to Find Work. To assist you In finding the job yoe are willing to fill as a patriotic duty —to train you for the job If necessary —a registration of women Is now be ing conducted under State and Fed eral supervision. The Pennsylvania Women's Committee of the Council of National Defense and the Civilian Service* Department of the Pennsyl vania Committee of Public Safety have it in charge. It is a registration that Is determ ining the complete "woman-power" of the state. It is showing with exact ness the total number of women, trained and untrained, of working age and it it classifying tbem accord ing to their capacity for work. The purpose is to inform the government —the United States Department of Labor —of how far it may rely upon women's energy as a productive re source. Even the women who are unable to take regular positions, but who can accept Work at home are being listed. The plan has the support of President Wilson and is commended by Govern or Brumbaugh, who, by official procla mation, fixed November 1 and 2 as special registration days. In conducting the registration, no interference with existing labor situ ations or with useful lndustriee is per mitted. While workers as well as non-workers are being listed, trained workers are not being solicited to change employers or employment. In fact, established industries will be assisted. Part of the plan is to place new workers at Jobs In their home sections and thus encourage and speed up useful, established produc tion. Slgnlng-Up la Eaay. Registration, too, has been made easy. Every organised group of wo men in the State is taking namea. County Committees of Public Safety, Federated Clubs, Suffrage Associa tion* and Women's Christian Temper ance Unions anywhere will sign you up. And BOW that you have learned of the dire need of women's service In this world crisis, it is for you—the women of the state —to make your registration a roll of honor for Penn sylvania. With the future of all civilization, with human liberty itself In imminent peril the call from the "Front" is for "workers, more workers, and still more workers." Work will win the war. Let the women of Pennsylvania by their action* say, "WE WILL NOT SHIRK-" To Remove Grease Spota. To remove grease spots from car pets, mix fuller's earth and magne sia together in equal proportions by scraping and pounding. Form this into a paste with hot water and spread on the spots. The next day brush it off and, if necessary, repeat the proc ess. Asphalt Asphalt, with which so many roads are paved, was found by accident. Many years ago, in Switzerland, nat ural rock asphalt was discovered, and for more than a century it was used for the purpose of extracting the rich stores of bitumen It contained. The First Requisite. "When Is their marriage to be sol emnized?" "As soon as it has been financed." —Boston Transcript. The Roman "Penny." The "denarius," translated "penny, M in each of the four gospels was the principal silver coin of the Roman commonwealth. From the parable of the laborers In the vineyard it would seem that a denarius was the ordinary pay for a day's labor (Math. 20;2-18)w
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers