L THE GREEN JADE A ROMANCE OF THE DESERT By Lulu L. Bridges the jade seemed among them a stranger in bold contact. Away from the pebble bar and under the mellow of a home lamp the color softened and the oily feel became a touch of balm. When at last I slept, it was only to dream a strange dream; over and over came the choice of retaining but one This is a story of facts. I am coa sidered civilized. I have the outward appearance of modern refinement. I have learned ratio and proportion in an exclusive college and disproved them at Monte Carlo; I have appeared before clubs with papers of philan- thropic subject and misanthespic sub stance. I have spent days slumming in the name of charity and nights acting in the name of society. Like an unchartered sattelite, I have swung round the world in a path that fades as fast as I move, recognized only by the phosphorence of my jeweis and the nebula of my voiles and pon But, despite all this, savagery The call of the track less seas and sandy lonliness stirs my heart more than all the idle chatter of wearied and wearying gentility. This innate inheritance I can ac- «<ount for only by analyzing myself as a Hybrid freak. Wizards of plant and animal-kind have long ago proven the law of the Brinn monk, that nature preserves the characteristics of with scientific accuracy through countless generations, gees. is my heritage. parentage The best of the breed show the colorings emphasized, or the elongated or silvered; others display the weakness of some far remote par- ent; while one now and then shatters all laws of heredity and establishes a freak. Thus can I understand how savager/ is my heritage, bequeathed by the for- bears who dwelt in caves near the firths and the ancestors who floated with the sands, driven by the lawless winds, purposeless and without desti- nation. fleece The history and attributes of the whole Scotch race seem written in the blue of my mother’s eye; in the hair where the sun’s ray rests and sparkle as if it were composed of myriad cry- stals; in the heart which can no more be easily won than could the ancestral territory, though once won, loyal for- ever. Through my father's veins ran the blood of the royal lineage of the land of adventure whose queen once sent the Pinta and her sisters into unknown seas to find a Fountain of youth and a treasure land of gems of gold. My friend-mother never told me the story that might have explained my antipathy to the wooded hills or thrown light on my perversity of dis- position. It was only from a sparkling of her eye and a softening of the tone that I gathered, link by link, a fairy chain, as it were, that traced back- ward into the days of her romance, solved the mystery for me. fomewhere in the realm of long ago, she had been won by a distin ruished young Spanish officer; attracted per- haps by his contrasting personal ap- pearance, though more likely by his self tenderness, the counterpart of which her maiden heart yearned for, but found not in the sturdiness of her own race. The remembrance of that father is limited to a single etching in the gal- lery of memory. The dimmed picture shows a dark handsome face whose eyes glowed with a worshipful love for his child, when his strong arms clasped me close and swung me upon the most beautiful horse I have ever seen. The tin-type in mother’s old hair trunk pictures a mounted, lythe, straight figured man in uniform, adorned with gold buttons, braid and epaulettes and glittering sword. I loved the horse for a long time. | could not understand why my mother paled at my childish praise of. the noble animal which had borne my father to the battle’s front and fallen with him in death. Could it be that her change of mien betokened a jeal ousy of the steed Could the charger be blamed for the husband's death while sharing the fate with him? Per- haps. But still another reason: The Brinn monk's law was working out its proof; an Arab ancester had left to this Castilian knight not alone the maroon tinge of blood, but brave fatalism in battle and a devotion tor his charger _strofig” enough, deep _engazh, to rival religions, faith and family ties. My prosaic mother yearned to keep in touch with the throbbing world yet, several months out of each year, he» object unknown to me, she was accus- tomed to spend alone in the desert So, in childhood, I had seen many deserts. One day mother told me we were to make our home in California, that epitome of the earth, with the climate of Italy, the fruits and vineyards of Spain, the scenery of Switzerland, the jewels of the Golgonda, the gold of ophir, and, what now seems best of all, the desert. My introduction to the desert had been made through the windows of an observation car; and my low bow was not in formal recognition, but to escape the blinding dust and stifling wind. Like all. strangers, I looked merely upon its heat and desolation and wondered why God had made it. Its black igneous rocks seemed monuments to. the wrath of prehistoric volcanoes, whose very fires dried up the seas at their feet, destroyed every container of life and then with flaming tongues forbade life ever to enter what now I know to be my and many an other's Eden. But later, when we decided to winter near the dividing line streams on the western slope bound where the in glad anticipation toward the great Pacific, and on the Eastern strive to assuage the monstrous thirst of count less miles of sand and salt, I one day caught a breath that lulled to sleep the lure of the throbbing social world and awoke a love for this trackless waste, The transition of my affections came suddenly at daybreak, when in a pass- ing whim, I changed my usual morning ramble from the western slope, and climbed to the very summit to catch the first glimpse of the sun. The panc- rama that flashed upon my sight when heaven's gates opened and Phoebus’ horses burst through lives indelibly photographed on my brain, though the sunrise itself was unnoticed. Like those dreams when reason is sleeping and imagination alone is guard, I beheld a wealth of jewels, which I had never before fancied in ex istence. From the crown of a fairy queen at night had come each separate grain of desert’s sand, whose glittering radiance was enhanced by the dawning light. Each pebble was an artist's palette whereon the colors had blended till every hue and tint that endless combinations could conceive suggested a lilliputian ball room where midget beauties wore plush coats and satin gowns, a nation of tiny royalty and as the heat waves caught the sun’s rays like the turning of a kaliedeoscope each second reeled off films of such glistening beauty that I wondered if this were not God's storehouse and these the jewels to be buried in the mines of worlds and stars yet unborn. As I watched, the jewels melted into a sea of glass, from whose concave depths ascended a single ray af warmth striking my heart and heat- ing my blood to Arab fervor. I was no longer a child of the world but an Arab of the desert entering upon my heritage! Forgetting my waiting breakfast and unmindgul of the deceptive distances, I'sped down the mountain and through the foothills but, lured on by the hope of still greater treasures, leaving the mine road, I turned into the sands, themselves, surrounded by mesquite and cacti. = My objective point was a small river whose bed was dry save when tae rainy season made of it a flood rent. Here I found, in an angle, a nook where the sun had seldom sent its blaze and I could rest touching the mute sirens that had enticed me so far from home. Feverishly, I gathered some me into my lap. One was an ame- thyst blue that grew deeper as mois- ture brought out its depth. It recalled to me my mother's eyes as I pressed it tightly, fancying her fingers in a love clasp around by own . Then clear- ly her face appeared and suddenly, 1 seemed to hear her anxious call as she discovered my chair empty at the table. I started as if to gos dropping my pebbles as I did so, all thoughts of mother grew dim— near and visions vanished. Was it from my exhausting walk, my almost nervous delirium in my new found happiness, or was it some wierd uncanny influence of this sandy ceme- tery of heroic lives that had woven some psychic spell around me? I trembled and sought my beads. Alas, they were at home. Then there arose from my lonely battling heart a prayer, not as I was used to praying, but half wished, half uttered, that my new found friends in their brilliant hued gar- ments might be the incarnation of ab- sent loved ones, and in the days to come be companions to charm me here in the nunnery I had chosen for all my idle hours! How strangely real the answer was soon to be! Slipping the blue pebble into the pocket of my blouse, I picked up one of amber hue, blotched with reddish brown. At the touch, a flash of reco! lection presented my childhood play fellow: “Lasses” the children haa called him pezause of his peculiarly colored hair. 1 gazea °*' the stone, each blotch became a freckle 2f hig ruddy face as I had seen it one day long gone by, when I made earnest pledges, with guileless lips; or when with haughty words or scornful tone 1 had wounded him deeper than could have the missives of his loved battie field. A mist rose before my eyes and as he pa f ssed away, I saw the frost of homeless chill cover the noble head. He had in His life no pebbles to speak of love. Guiltily, I slipped the amber with the blue and Tom was again forgotten. A pebble of greyish white like an un- polished diamond lay near my feet. Stooping, I touched it. Instantly, my thoughts reverted to my debut party. Here was the dress my dearest friend wore on that night of nights. How I loved her! How I confided my every secret to her keeping! How often we swore eternal friendship, praying to die the same day! Thus ran our beautiful comradeship, untl we chanced to allow our common taste to which we proudly boasted, to be applied to the same young man, her present husband. Now, even the stone is not half so cold as she or I And then I found a gold brown one which reflected the strands of anether chum’s hair. violet eyes. Soon, a cold black jewel whether a dron or a polished besalt, I am not geologist enough to decide, attracted my attention. As it lay in my hand this somber stone seemed to meta- morphosize, and a silver plate: At Rest—spoke not of my heart as I gazed for the last time upon lips that had been mine. Yes, this stone was he, beautiful even under the black wings of death—and this stone alone was silent to my touch, yet I clasped it more tightly than the rest and held it longer. Thus life’s past came surging back as I wandered in the bend of the river. And as I touched each stone, like the murmur of a cone shell, whispers of friendship and love, voices of kindness or reproach, spoke and echoed in my inner mind. So fraught with life had become these desert sands that I planned to come day after day, as a devotee would go to a medium to converse with their dead. But another feeling also pos- sessed me—a feeling of insufficiency; an idea that my rainbow lacked yet a color, the spectrum of my heart showed an incompleteness. What was it? I could not so much as guess. Thus my conscious self would reason. Reason? With what? With whom? To whom or what do we address our inner thoughts in hours when we struggle with the decisive battles of life? Is it not that at last our con- scious faculties are overpowered and a giant rises from the hidden recesses f our little known subconscious selves, and moves the pen or causes the lips to utter the fatal word or directs an act dynamic? It must be so, for in that very moment I stooped and picked up the only ugly stone I had yet found. It had no lustre but instead an unctuous feel. No prismatic crystal lization or even rounded form made up for its lack of color beauty. It had not. and could not take a polish. I had added, guided by whim or un- discovered force a plain green jade. Long I revelled in the companion- ship of my fetiches until nature intro- duced the evil spirit of the desert. Thirst. hour and hunger added fatigue. Has- faithful dog upon whom the desert me both the thirst and the hunger. When I enteed the main road and toiled up the foot hills, I heard behind Its presence was so incongruous, I thoughtlessly turned and stared. In- stantly, it stopped beside me, and the lone occupant of the car almost gruffly bade me ride. Despite his rather un kept appearance, his unshaven face and the dust covered clothing, some thing inspired confidence in him. As yet I was unaccustomed to the lack of unconventionalities and dif ferences of social customs which makes the west so unlike the east. While my fatigue argued with mv my unknown companion with a hurry consistent with his general bearing, leaped to the ground and almost lifted be into the seat beside him. at him in wounded amazement; my terrier growled; yet I was not afraid. The grip of his hand on my arm gavc me a mental impression of a strona man, an uncut gem that had worth but not polish, begetting both repus- nance and admiration. dull and through the desert dust as they searched my face and figure, | caught a glint of green. I drew away but not in fear. I was glad to think the journey home would be short. Our conversation was broken, his consist- ing of questions bordering on the im- His eyes were pertient, mine on monosyllables ut- tered in none too kindly tone. When we reached the summit of ths mountain, with a sudden motion of the wrist, he swung the car to the left. time he smiled. It was like the sun shine and calm following a storm. Letting the lever almost to the last notch we sped over the crest of the was peculiarly unconventional, 1 felt a half willingness to go on. Mile after mile we sped until I began to be the questioner, “he the user of monosyl- lables. I pleaded to return. Persua- sions, tears, temper had no effect —bringing in response only a shake of the head. Then I started to grasp the wheel and found in my clasped fingers a stone. How long I had held it I do not know; I loosed it and im mediately, without seeming cause or reason the breaks were set, we swung back to the north and were swiftly borne home. The stone I held was the green jade. Alone in my room that night, I found I could hardly leave my contemplation of the stones to seek the rest I so much needed. Arrange them as I would, Next, a violet tint was a vivid re- minder of a life long friend ,uneffusive, [road again for the dim river trail, 2 but true, whose one beauty lay in her [quick blast of a horn startled me, and quartz charred in some volcanic cal- By now it was past the noon tily, I started for home, calling my | held no charm but who shared with | me the labored strokes of a motor. | sense of propriety, I stood mute, until | I lookel | I pointed to my home. For the first | mountain and though the experienc? | of my precious new found jems. On waking I refused to acknowledge my dream-hour decision, gathering them into my hand-bag, I started at once to return to my shrine in the bend of the river. Just when about to leave the mine when comprehension dawned, I found myself facing my companion of yester- day. The hot blood rushed to my cheeks. I turned away with no other sign of recognition. “Come with me” the voice was pleud- ing, not commanding as when I had heard it before. ‘There has been a holocaust at the mines. We are both needed.” The plaintive, trembling and tender sympathy of his tone disclose:l a character utterly foreign to what I had hitherto seen. Foreknowing my decision he had thrown open the rear door of his car. The trip was made hurriedly, silently. I watched almost fascinated the nearly motionless figure in the front seat. At one point the road turned sheer against the side of the mountain. A fearful precipice on the right. Un- consciously I had drawn the green jade from my satchel and held ii {loosely between thumb and finger. A flash of the sun drew my eyes to it and I was amazed to notice what un- til now had escaped my scrutiny a small red spot embedded in its point At the sway and tremor of the car 1 lurched to one side, dropping the stone. As it fell I saw its prism rays flood its surface, as the blood of a wounded soldier turns crimson the field where he is slain. Before I culd fully understand that I had suffered a loss, we dipped down the incline and came to a sudden stop. Befors us tongues of fire, ever and anon shot upward from the shaft; grey clouds arose from its black depths pressing hard against the sides, as if loathe to meet the anguish it had cost. All that we could learn was thac a teriffic explosion had occurred. Be- neath somewhere were nearly a hun- dred human beings, husbands, sons, fathers, brothers of the white faced stricken women who crowded and wailed at the shaft’s entrance. Soon the cage was lowered with orders to first bring up the HNving. Then passed moments that seemed to grind slowly into hours. With the first sign of moving ropes every form eagerly leaned nearer the awful pit; tense and tenser grew the lines on the | pallid faces with every foot of its | winding. Then the blackness left and the | maimed bodies came into view. Now [1 saw my companion rising with a | subtle power, become the center of the | scene. | He approached; the line was broken {and his silent motions were silently | and quickly obeyed. His face was set, and the deft hands | seemed possessed wifh the Spirit of | Divination as they went straight te | each wound, catching the artery to stop the ebb of life. | Bathed in blood, but with an angel's ouch, staying the wolf, Greed, of | Death, they moved quickly, steadily, | unerringly. Seeing them as the sun {light filtered through the blood of his | suffering fellowmen, 1 found there the pinkish beauty, as it adorns a tiara, | but, in its massive force and heat that | turns the sand into a crystal. I turned from the scene of carnage {and sought to comfort the weeping— {my hand clutching the Black Stone, {until it cut into my flesh. | Now the cage had again descended [and was ready with its second cargo. | Was here more need for the physician {or comforter? The face of the mau [ who stood in the box answered me. | The first lifeless body was tenderly [laid on the sand. A girlish woman tottered forward to kneel beside the | husband of the morning, the magnet force that had drawn her from shove o shore, the dead half of a life whose | oneness was invisible. | She raised her face and hands to | Heaven and the other sufferers join ing as in a chorus, there arose on the hot air of the Mojava border-land a | ery so bitter, so hopeless, so teriffic, that the he:.yons seemed to darken, land the valley become a garden, the Garden of Gethsemene! I knelt near the physician watching | his face as he watched the face of the | child-widow. When the anguish of her voice reached his ear, the mountain of his massive manhood melted with a volcanic force of pent up human sym | pathy, and there came from his lips u [ery of pain, keener than though the | pangs of death were grappling with his soul. | I fell prostrate at his feet and cried. | “Forgive me!” My call was unheeded, { he did not hear, so intent was he upon [the duties of the hour. I must have | fainted, for my next consciousness was lin the auto on the road near the preci- pice looking at the yawning depths land remembring my loss, I felt momen- tarily the strange temptation to lean | from its lofty height. Yet, in almost reflex action the thought was crowded out with a new resolve. As we slowly climebd the hill I slipped out-quietly and almost ran down the trail to my niche in the river bend. ‘There 1 threw myself on my knees and began to search for a jade, and ch, how many I found, and cast away. for I found not another with a ruby set in an oily dead-hued surface! How long I searched I can only surmise, but at last I turned back to my shrine. My limbs tottered as I stood, my head throbbed in painful rhythm to my heat* beat, the great Desert seemed to rise and tilt and circle, I knew I was a! last in its monstrous grip and life or reason would be its sought-for toll. Then for a moment all my love turned into the bitterness of hatred. I took all my pebbles from the bag, end, holding them in my hand, drew back to hurl them into their former resting place. I could think only of the ruby tip of the lost Jade. 1 heard myself cry out in anguish; “Har!”— the word died on the lips and I stood petrified with terror. Up the loug stretch of denuded banks came echoin: the cry—a cry that chills the blood and clogs the heart valves. A growl from my terrier heid my consciousness in poignant poise long enough to.see the sneaking form of a coyote creeping stealthily up the stream. I turned to run but all at once, It seemed that darkness had fallen aud I must sleep. The night was long and my dreams delirious. There was a touch on my pulse that brought peace but not con- sciousness; a vision of a strong man bending over white; white; white everywhere; and heat—and when 1 awoke it was not on my desert sands but in my darkened room. How life's shifting sands can dim the mile posts of the past! What changes nature builds up in the blood of the heart and the cells of the sen- sory nerves! So, it is hard to describe the shock and how I stood aghast be- fore the counter of a curio shop in an Eastern city a few years later. For around the neck of the swarthy sales- girl I beheld a necklace of gaudy tar- nished gold whose pendant was a ruby tipped, dull green stone! She stood beneath a single electric bulb; and as she moved I saw the glint of the blood red. My voice trembled as I asked the price of the tawdry ornament. In- stantly the hand sought the gem. The white teeth no longer showed in a friendly smile. The dark face grew darker. The voice lapsed into broken English; “Senorita no savvy. No money buy it. He sent it me from the Teha- chepa, the spring by his cabin door—- Savvy?” With the last her tone changed, and a faint smile came back to the lips, for her maiden eyes had looked deep through the mists that! had filled my own. 1 do not know why, but we met at the counter’s end and I placed my arm around the neck of the strange 20 to 25 Percent Saved Get acquainted with our money-saving, direct to consumer proposition. Crepe de Chene, Washable Satin, Taffeta Navy, Taffeta Black, Georgette Crepe, Messa- line Black, Messaline Navy. Write Now. ADELPHIA MFG. CO. 2306 S. 23rd Street, Philadelphia, Pa. i OWN YOUR Portablé—Sectional—Durahle Bartlett Garages, Inc., 3 N. 21st, Phila. MI-RITA SUPERFLUOUS HAIR REMOVER The only treatment that will remove permanently all Su- perfluous Hair from the face or any part of the body without leaving a mark on the most delicate skin,” Removes en- tire hair roots and destroys the hair duct. No electric needle, burning caustics or pow- ders used. One application of Mi-Rita will quickly and completely remove all undesirable hair, leaving the skin soft and smooth, Every woman who is troubled with super- fluous hair should know that Mi-Rita will permanently destroy the most stubborn growth of hair, and this treatment can be used successfully at home. Send for Free Beauty Book listing our exclusive preparations for beautifying the skin and hair DR. MARGARET RUPPERT Dept. R---1112 Chestnut St., Philadelphia Established 22 years Attention, MEN! Let Me Send You this Gigantic Shoe Value If it don’t please and you can duplicate it at $5.00, send it back, yous money refunded. “The Hog Island Special” 3398 Parcel Post ~ 10c Extra Brings this offering to you for inspection. Built on the Army last, and made to stand wear and rough usage. Regular wholesale value $5.00. Leather of highest quality and finest workmanship used in the construction of these shoes. An absolute bargain. We stand back of it. Mail, Orders promptly filled, money refunded if not satis- factory, Sizes 6 to 9. . FORSTER & SON 4239 Main St., Manayunk, Philadelphia, Pa. Established 50 years girl, drawing her close to my heart, my fingers touching the ruby tip and rressing it to the vein. “Yes, I savvy and more” I said, “I knew and owned that jewel when it dropped into the spring at the foot of the precipice. You can not know its worth but value it above all the jewels of the earth. I never knew its value until it passed into the possession of one who had appreciation. Wear it, child, and may it prove a talisman of joy. For, after all, Joy's brightest jewels are the crys- tals of another’s sorrows!” Chic Chapeau of the Moment If you have already purchased all the hats necessary to fill out your sum- mer wardrobe you are quite apt to wait a few weeks for the between season mode to make itself apparent. But not all of us are so fortunate ac to be properly hatted before the mid- dle of July. Then what shall the new hat for the occasion be? Nothing is safer than an all-white right now. It will “go” with every thing and in the dead of summer nothing looks cooler. There are a great many new sports hats in white, pretty ribbon affairs, and some of hemp with a colored duvetyn crown. A practical sports hat is made of an- gora braid, joined together with a wide fagoting of white silk to give the popular transparent effect. An other new white hat is built tam shape, but its surface is a mass of white silk flower petals and leaves This too, combines the sports idea with a certain amount of dressiness. Organdie and Black Velvet Organdie hats are in full bloom. To give them an advance touch you mighs build the organdie over a facing ‘of black velvel, and trim it with tiny ruffles of val lace. Navy and white is another popular and becoming combination for mid- summer. It is chamingly combined on a slightly drooping sailor of white georgette with white satin flowers appliqued under the brim and white embroidery and blue satin flowers on top of the brim. A close little toque. which is necessary even in the sum- mer wardrobe, is made of three rows of triangularly pleated white gros- grain ribbon, each row a little wider than the last, with nearest the face. by several rows of dark blue em broidery. This hat comes with a bag to match. Many Brilliant Models Strangely enough brilliant colors the narrowest | They are separated | | agriculture for its prosperity, and the | only industries of any importance are | the cultivation of sugar cane, coffez, | vanilla and the manufacture of sugar jand rum. are at their height tor, Fnuisummer wearing. and one finds many orange, flame and vermilion hats. For weaur- ing with the dark silk nothing could be nicgr than a rolling turban of shiny black straw with side-sweepinz tufts of vermilion aigrettes, imitation, of course. One of the prettiest hats to wear immediately with light summery frocks is the picture hat of soft straw and the wreath of field flowers and grass. For the same wear the dressy hat made of several layers of tulle,. more often brown than black, is very chic. > The Bumble Bee is a Useful Agent Cherish and protect the lowly bum- blebee, for he is a very useful agent and an important adjunct to our agri- culture, says the Pennsylvania Depart- ment of Agriculture. The helpful mis- sion of the bumblebee is to distribuie the pollen of the clover, thus fertiliz- ing the field and makingt pogsible for the farmer to produce clover seed for the following year’s planting. The loud buzzing, hairy little fellow spent. most of his time in the clover field and without his activities our clover seed would be reduced to a minimum crop. The bumble-bee is generally re- garded, and particularly in the cities and towns, as being a non-producer and a meance to the peace of the con- munity, but in fact, he is just as ir- dustrious as his cousin, the honey-bee, and the work he carries on is of first order in importance to our agriculture. Short Notes The game of billiards was brought to America by the Spaniards, who settled St. Augustine, Fla., in 1565. The “dog watch” is a nautical tern» which distinguishes two watches of two hours each from 4 to 6 P. M. and from 6 to 8 P. M. Chewing gum, or chicle, was used by the indians before the days of Col- {umbus, as a means of quenching their thirst. | | Gaudeloupe depends entirely upon $700 As & Large size. Mahogany. Good order 400 $725 LEONARD Mahogany case. Like new. Fine tone. ‘550 Save $100 to $300 “at NORTH'S $550 STORY & CLARK . . Mahogany. Fine order "275 Fine order Other F. A. North Stores NORTH PHILA: 2136 N. Front St WEST PHILA: 302 S 52d St. KENSINGTON: 1813-15 E. Alle- gheny Ave. CAMDEN: 831 Broadway NORRISTOWN: 228 W. Main St. CHESTER: 312 Edgmont Ave, TRENTON: 209 E. State St. READING: 15 N. 5th St, ATEANTIC CITY, 106 St. James Place ON A (luaranteed Player-Piano This semiannual sale offers a wonderful opportunity to get a guaranteed, stan- dard make upright or player-piano at positively the biggest saving obtainable Don’t fail to see these marvelous bargains $650 MILTON . ¢ $600 DRUCKER § ar *425 &CO. . = 300 ahogany. Large size. gE | 7 Send Coupon for full list of bargains (reat Sale! $650 MEL- $ VILLE CLARK 4? Large size. Walnut case. Excellent action Mahogany. Fine tone. Large size, -r F.A.NorthCo. 1306 Chestnut Street Please send me a complete description of your bargains in slightly used Player - Pianos ( ) Upright Pianos ( ) Also details of easy-payment plan offered in your Great Sum- mer Sale. Name AQOress ci. i.iiihivesrens . R. P. 7-23-20 i
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers