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About The monitor. (Omaha, Neb.) 1915-1928 | View Entire Issue (May 26, 1922)
v Kneading Bread in the Street. (Prtp&rvd by th* National Geographic So ciety. Waahlngton. D. C.) Corea, the Brat part of mainland Asia to come under Japanese control, bas In large part received Its material from western civilization at second hand through Japan. And In spite of the American type coaches and even dining cars that are now drawn in modem express trains over heavily bal» lasted railroads, and the trolley cars, telegraph lines and electric power sta tions that are encountered by the vis itors to the chief cities, Corea In many ways still preserves the quaintness of Its “Hermit Kingdom” days. It was only In 1882, a generation after Commodore Perry opened up Japan, that Corea, or Chosen, by making a treaty with the United States, gave up officially Its policy of exclu sion. Foreigners took up their resi dence with official sanction at Chemul po, the seaport of the capital, Seoul. I Even with this foothold, however, the unwelcome visitors pushed their way but siowiy Into other parts of the king dom ; and as late as 1897 only A rela tively small portion hail been visited by white men. Now Japanese Influ ence and Japanese explorers have gone everywhere In the “I.and of Morning Calm,” and only the wilderness along the Manchurian border remains rela tively unknown. European clothing Is no longer a curi osity In Seoul, but still the old garb of the natives greatly predominates. The first feature to strike the visitor. In fact, Is likely to be this matter of clothing. The universal adoption of white, the singular hats, the footgear, all strike the note of quaintness. White clothing Is the emblem of mourning In Corea, as It Is In Japan and China; the mourning period Is three years. On the occasion of the death of a royal personage the entire population was required to put on white. This cus tom Is said to he accountable for the people having adopted white clothing for ordinary wear, that they might he ready for the Inevitable when It should come, either In their own or In the royal family. Queer “Pill-Box Hate.” The ordinary hats of the C'orean men are absurd little “pill-box” affairs, shaped In general like American stiff straws, but with high small crowns which cause them to sit on the top of the head as though adults were wear ing the hats of children. To add to the bizarre appearance, these little hats are tied In place under the chin with plain black tape. Men of wealth often wear a loop of beads, the ends at tached to the sides of the brim and the loop hanging in front to the waist. Many years ago—long before the “western barbarian” reached the shores of Chosen—the Coreans were noted among their Chinese and Jap anese neighbors for the skill and taste displayed In textile manufactures, and the products of their looms could be found side by side with their pottery In all the markets then open In the East. By the slow bnt sure degradation of wars, insurrections and Invasions man ufactures and arts In Corea gradually lost their value In both quality and quantity, until today her people, rich and poor alike, are dependent upon China and Japan for a large percent age of their clothing and pottery. There Is, however, one branch of manufacture, the working of bronze, In which Corea eaally leads, the use of this metal for domestic purposes be ing peculiar to this country. The bronze, which la of good quality, hard, and takes a good polish, Is of an alloy of copper and tin, with a small per csnt of zinc and a trace of Iron. The bronze spoons, with which every fam ily la liberally (applied, are models of grace, as are the hlbachls or flre-pots, which are largely exported to Japan. These graceful bronze bowls are ap plied to every domestic use Imagin able. The same material la used In the manufacture of tobacco pipes In universal demand, and much taste Is dlsplsyed In their ornamentation. •soul an Interesting City. Seoul, with Its population of over 100,000 dominates the cities and towns of Chosen, and has only one competi tor In size, Ping-Tang, with a popula tion of about 175,000. The main streets of Seoul are wide and well laid out The stores generally are but one story, hardly deserving the title of buildings. The means of conveyance over the roads, for the most part unpaved, ie rickshaws, drawn by boys who are swift and tireless. The street scenes of Seoul offer great variety for the kodak, the burden-bear ers of both sexes furnishing a con stant change of scene; most of them being willing victims, entirely satisfied with a small tip. At the wood mar ket on one side of the main street the patient steer Is seen reclining under the weight of a load of logs which would cause a wagon to groan, and one wonders how he will ever regain his footing when his master makes a sale and the time comes to deliver the goods. These animals appear to thrive under their burden-bearing, be ing sleek and well kept. How They Make Bread. The native bread of Seoul does not seem very attractive to foreigners after they have seen the process by which It Is made. However, If Its ex cellence was nlone dependent on the thoroughness with which it Is kneaded, the bread which “mother used to make" would suffer by comparison. After mix ing, the dough Is placed on a board In the road In front of the little hakeshop. Then two stalwart Coreans proceed to pound It with great mauls. It Is not claimed that the quality of the bread Is improved by the addition of Impurities In the way of Insects and dust which naturally result from the open-air treat ment, but If one objects to eating It, r native will quote a proverb which, being Interpreted, runs: “He who would enjoy his food should not look I over the kitchen wall”—a maxim not without force In countries occidental. A visit to the Imperial palace bring* up mental pictures of more golden days In Corea. The buildings and grounds are extensive; a handsome pa goda standing on a small Island Is sur rounded by a lotus pond, a wealth of twes adding to the beauty of the place. During the reign of the old emperor, his fear of assassination was so great that It Is said 300 bedrooms In the palace were kept constantly In readiness for him, no one knowing which one he would occupy on any night. Protected by a Great Wall. One of the most enjoyable trips from Seoul Is by rickshaw past the Peking or Independent gate through a pic turesque road winding among the mountains. The construction of the great wall of Corea at this point ap pears a marvel of engineering skill, so seemingly Inaccessible Is this moun tain fastness. Proceeding about two miles, one passes the water-gate, where the wall crosses the river and where In time of attadk the Iron gates In these great arches were let down to protect the city. The view of thla crossing Is one of the finest In Corea. Another ride of three miles takes the traveler to the White Buddha. In the solitude of this wilderness, far from the highway, beside a clear moun tain stream, stands a great boulder, on the face of which, carved In relief. Is the sitting figure of Buddha. Seoul possesses what Is believed to be the third largest hell In the world. In shape and general outline It Is of Japanese type. In fact, the Coreans claim that the bells of Dal-Nlppon were modeled after those of Corea. The climate of Corea Is not very different from that In similar latitudes In the United States, from New Torts to North Carolina. Structurally the houses are Interesting, for the Coreans have anticipated our hot-air furnace by many hundreds of years. Every house Is raised a foot or two above the ground, and a wide flue runs to neath the floor, emerging at the other end In a tall chimney, made In the north from a hollow log. When a fire Is built at the entrance to the flue, the smoke and heat are drawn be neath the house, keeping the rooms warm during even the coldest days of winter. I THE WHITE ROSE By MILDRED WHITE <fcSS3S33SS3$SS<SSSS3S3SSSS$SgS»SS*SaCff Copyright, tail, Wgurn Newspaper Union. I “The white rose grew high on the old stone wall. Just above one's reach. It was a tempting, taunting rose, per fect In unfolding beauty, and It daunted its perfume and swayed In the sun. “And because It was provoklngly be yond reach, men strove to claim It, but the tlower still bent, as though aloof in Its purity, beyond each claim ing hand." The girl ceased reading, and glanced , smilingly down ut the child. A young man on the step below them looked up at the girl, i “And that," he suld, “is life, the white rose of one’s desire, always Judt beyond reach.” As he spoke he turned his face to ward the farther end of the summer hotel veranda, where a charming woman sat among her admirers. This worldly, fortunate young woman was very lovely In soft, white chiffon. Uer skin was a sort of pearly white, too, and the pule. blonde of her hair gleamed like an aureole. The young mao's gaze bent upon her long and dreamily. And presently the young woman arose, und came passing him on the stair. With a care less nod, she went on down the gar den path, an eager escort at her side. “1 suppose." said Bruce Webster, slowly, “that every man has In life his white rose." “And every woman, too," said the girl softly, her eyes on him. “I don't like that story," spoke up the child, “it has no end." “I have to finish the stories for Muriel," the girl explained, “or she Is not satislled." The girl wore uo chiffon, but her simple linen was spotlessly white, and neither was she an heiress, this sweet faced young person, nor a favored guest of the hotel. She, hetself, could not quite define her position In the Webster household. Muriel, her charge, had grown be yond the need of a nursemaid, and Rfaoda Brent could not be culled a governess. Muriel called Ithoda her “friend,” which was, perbups, the best name of all. Muriel's uncle gu\e a quick Impatient slgli. “Don’t mind me," he said, “go on and finish your story." “Then one sunshiny day,” the girl went on obediently, "a young and earnest knight clambered up the stone wall. Once he Inst Ills footing, hut bravely climbed on toward the white rose. He was determined to triumph, you see, In its possession. Its per fume seemed to touch t>-- knight's lips ns he sadly gave up the quest— and then, as he slipped hack to the ground—well, what do you think?" asked Rhoda. The child leaned eagerly forward. “The white rose," finished the girl, “was lying at his feet.” “What did the knight do then?” questioned Muriel. “Picked It up and wore It, of course,” her uncle answered, “next to i his heart." “That was a beautiful end,” the lit tle girl said. "And now please carry me up to bed, Uncle Bruce.” Laughingly the young man granted the request, and up the long stairs thi three went together. Luter, Rhoda Brent, coming alone down to the moon lit veranda, found Muriel’s uncle one of a group surrounding the lovely woman's chair. She was singing, this admired and favored guest, and the lonely girl thought the soft charm of the voice In accord with the charm of her person. On the upraised face of Bruce Web ster was an eager light. Little Rhoda, unseen, retraced her steps. In her own room with the ' child's even breathing coming from the | direction of that second white bed, the girl knelt In the moonlight before an open window. “I must go away,” she w'hispered. “I thought that I might grow not to care for him.” She smiled sadly at the futility of the thouqht. “My white rose, high on a hard stone wall.” Below, a man’s figure came from the shadow Into the moonlight. The still glorified face of Bruce Webster was lifted to hers. He came nearer, and stepped lightly up the porch trellis. “My white rose,” begged Bruce, “come down to me please, If hut for a moment." Wondering, her heart thrilled at the sound of those unbelievable words, Rhoda went as one In a dream Into the garden. “I had to ask you tonight,” the man said. “I could not bear the suspense longer. I know how unworthy I am of all your sweetness, O little white Rhoda, and I have not the money that I should hare before asking. That’s what held me hack—but If you will give me the slightest hope, how I will work and strive. But, of course,” he caught himself quickly, “you don’t care. Else, why have you avoided met The only time when I could count on a sight of you was at Muriel’s bedtime. Because she likes to have me carry her upstairs. Women do not always hide from those they love. Toni' it I had almost forgotten your aversion— It was Gloria Dale’s song, perhtps, that gave me hope, a song of !>ve. Do not he afraid to hurt me Men, Rhoda. One may not love where vne will. It’s Just the story of the white rose—Just out of reach." Very softly she same to him, soft, caressing little hands against bis shoulders. “Bruce,” she said, “Oh Bruce, my knight, your white rose Is here, at jour feet." fe$S$S3S$3$S«S$SSSSf3»SSg«$SS3$SS«g ©, 1931. by ldoCluro Maw«pa.p«r Syndloat*. “My, but rm tired 1” Mrs. Syminea sunk down w'earlly in the patent rocker in Aunt Molly Mu gee's parlor. “I mustn't stop a minute. I’ve been go ing night and day trying to make this fair a success. The church needs the money so badly. You'll wush dishes for us, of course, ilrs. Magee?*’ “Of course I will—not!" Mrs. Symmes Jumped. "For tweuty years now”—Aunt Molly grasped tin- arms of-her chair with two plump hands and bent for ward—"I've wushed dishes at every banquet and supper and Sunday school picnic in this town. If you want me to help sellin’ things I’ll go—but I won’t wash dishes.” “Oh, I’m so snrry," Mrs. Symmes was all sympathetic consternation. “I never knew you felt like that. But about the booths—why—er—I don’t know. There’s nothing left but the aprons, and Mrs. Lucas bus always hud them.” The night of the fair found Aunt Molly resplendent In her best black silk and rhinestone brooch, presiding over the uprons. Mrs. Symmes in the cramped little church kitchen, nervously endeavoring to keep hot a half-dozen chicken pies on the little two-by-four cook stove, and hoping that Aunt Molly wouldn’t bungle Things too badly, was startled Into leaving her post by a hilarious shout from the outer room. She glanced out the door to see Mr. Con roy, proprietor of the village market, strutting about, his bulky form swathed In a checked gingham apron of large proportions. “Oh, dear," said ,Mrs. Symmes to Aunt Molly. "Mrs. Magee, why ever did you sell that apron to Conroy? I make one like that every year so that old Mrs. Lune will buy It. She never can get things big enough." “There, now. don’t you worry," soothed Aunt Molly, her face aglow. “I made him pay me five dollars for that apron, and if anyone can pry old Conroy loose from a (ive-dollar bill I say do It." “Cora Whipple, you come here." Mrs. Symmes felt herself dismissed as a rosy-cheeked girt came ut Aunt Mol ly's bidding. "Com, don’t you ever make fudge for Krvln? You needn’t blush, but next time you Just wear this pink fudge apron and see what happens. No, a dollar’s enough. I guess. “Klsie, bet your nia’d be just tickled to dentil with one of these little sew ing aprons for le-r birthday. This white one with the ruffle's mighty cute. too. You Wan 'em both? flood I “Here, .Miss Syk' you buy this oil cloth jigger and yon won’t drown yogr self when you wa ll dishes, like yon always do." Aunt Molly knew tier "line’’ and her customers. At 8she was sold out. Complacently she began counting her spoils. “Oil, Mrs. Magee; walled pretty Millie Burke, hurrying ucross from the fancy work booth, “would you help us with those vanity hugs?" “Sure I'll help, hut you ought to've : known better than to make them. In the first place. All the girls may not i have gingham aprons, hut you should know that all those as would use 'em i has vanity bags already. Here," she thrust the box of money toward Mtlly. “You finish counting that. Here comes ; Doctor Arnlster." ns the young doctor’s lithe, dark figure appeared In the door way. "Bet you 10 cents I sell him that old-rosi? hag for $2. .lust suits his complexion.” With a chuckle she was away. “Well, what do you think I” An hour later Millie Burke hurst Into the kitchen, weak from laughter. “Aunt Molly has sold every one of those hags; we haven't a thing left but canned fruit. And Doctor Arnlster and Judge Peterson oh. Just come and see.” She drew Mrs. Symmes outside. Uproar and feminine shrieks greeted them. Mrs. Symmes stared—every male face In the crowd was a work of art. Rouge and eyebrow pencil, lipstick and powder had all been applied with a lavish hand. Conroy’s rosy-hued coun tenance was a ghastly white; someone had used nn eyei row pencil with great diligence on the judge's bald spot; Dandy Smithson’s erstwhile blond mustache had tcraed a brilliant car mine. “How much? How much?” Aunt Molly bad turned auctioneer. Her strident voice wag heard above the hubbub. “How much am I offered for this can of pennies? You, Judge, how much? Remember, not one bite to eal for anybody till fha last thing’s sold. How—■" “Great guns." groaned the Judge, “pack up the whole business, woman, and send it to the old ladles’ home TO pay the hill.” With a mighty cheer the crowd made a rush for the supper room. “Land snkes!” Aunt Molly gave a feeble chuckle as she wiped the per spiration from her face and lowered her weary body Into a convenient chair. “I never In my life see folk) have such a good time" Advertising Strategy. "What’s the idea of this big sign here reading ‘Go slow. Danger'? Why, the road Is perfect and without a turn for miles.’’ “That was the happy thought of a publicity expert He put up the big billboard you see over there on the side of the road and the danger sign Is merely to luaks motorists slow ur so they'll have a chance to read It.” ONE GOOD TIME By FLORENCE MELLISH ft tsssssssssassssssssssssssssssssssssssit $). 1922, by McClure Newspaper Syndicate. Avis Maine looked drearily out of her third-story back window at the dreary succession of back yards. AvU was tired. She was despoil denb Madame Racine hud been sharp with her over a puckered facing. The other girls had rallied her about the defalca tion of Percy Gaylord. It was not that Avis bad really cared so much for Percy, hut his brief period of apparent devotion had made a dash of brightness In her drub life, and when he had gone lightly uwny, i announcing the carefully concealed j fact of his engagement to the pretty I Vermont teacher. Avis had settled down Into the dullness of despondency. She looked hack at the bleak year#. She glanced at the gas Jet. How easy It would he! It might pass for an accident and, In any case, there was no one to care. Minnie Slocum might miss her a little at first, and the girls would say, “How dreadful I" and send flowers. Pink and white car nations, with asparagus ferns, were | what they would probably send. Avis was a thrifty little soul. There j would be at least three hundred d(d I lars left of her scanty savings after j all the expenses were puid. There was no one to whom she really cared to leave this. She would have one good time before ending her troubles. She slept better than usual that night. In the morning she telephoned to Madame Racine that she was 111 and could not go to the shop for two weeks; then she went to the hank to draw her precious money. “Now,” she said, “In the first place I must have some clothes. I’ll go straight to Waller A Weldon's.” Standing before a long mirror In a modish suit and becoming bat, she was amazed at the transformation. Avis had not walked two blocks bo 1 fore she met John Bradley. It was fif teen years since she hail coasted down i Stearns hill on John's sled, but they recognized each other Instantly. "Why, John 1 I thought you were j overseas." “They sent me home,” he answered, glancing down at his right leg. "Pve j Just got out of the hospital—seven weeks of It, and now I'm looking for a Job.” He laughed sunnily, hut his thin. WHn face moved her to sudden pity. “Gome and lunch with me at Hal let'g," she said. “At Hallet'sV” he gasped. “Oh! I can afford It,” she answerefl easily. “Gee! I’m glad of that. You look like a princess," he cried, with nil ap preciative glance at her handsomely draped figure. Did your L'ncle Glau . dius leave you a fortune, Avis? I 1 heard of his death." “He left me every dollar he had," she answered truthfully. “Pm glad of that.” he said again. “You used to have pretty hard sled ding, Avis.” **I had Home good rides on your sled, anyway. Hal let’s Is just above.” v icy relived their childhood over an elaborate luncheon, then Avia se I cured expensive seats for u popular matinee. A girlish (lower vender alone and tempted In a great city moved Avis to tears. John laughed and said ; he was glad she was enjoying herself, but Ids own eyes were moist. As they left the theater Avis said, "Now let's have a long drive In the country and I'll phone them to serve dinner ut the Hoffman house.” Before they hud gone half a mile the chauffeur was stopped by a police man. A little girl selling violets In the | street hud been thrown down and In jured. Avis was full of pity and self- j reproach. ‘‘Oh, John! She looks like Phillis Blake at the Orpheum I” “I don't know, site's a pretty kid,” j be answered. Avis arranged to have the child taken to a hospital nearby. Three days 1 Inter she met John at a florist’s. “I was going to take some flowers to little Ida,” she explained. “So was I. Shall we combine forces and go together?" "Yes, If you like.” “Let's get some of those deep red roses,” Avis suggested. "Yes, they are fine. Do you know how Ida Is?” "Dr. Wetherell says she can come out In two weeks. And, oh. John, I'm going to take her with me. I shall send I her to school. I'm going back to work ’ for Madaine Hacin# tomorrow." "To work? Why, Avis, I thought—” “Oh, I’ve worked there for years. I was .Just taking a vacation and spending a little money I'd no use i for." John laughed and said, as he used to say In the old days: ‘‘You're a queer kid. Avis, but,” he added, “I shall Insist on paying half her ex penses. You see, I met a fellow I i wps chums with 'over there,' and he helped me to get a Job—a fairly good one. Ob, you must let me, Avia. I like the kid, too.” “Isn’t si* dear? Well, I will let you, John. Perhaps yon want to do It as much as I do.” “I have the option on a nice, little apartment In the suburbs," said John, j “Couldn't you leave Madaine Racine and take care of Ida out there?" Avis glowed: “Oh, I’d love It, but," j she hesitated, “wouldn't people talk?" “They might. I think we had better be married. I shouldn't mind If you didn’t. We always did get along. What do you say, Avis?” "Oh, John! I said I was going to have one good time, bnt I didn't think It was going to last right along." Telephone Atlantic 1322 *V HAD TO HAVE THE PASSWORD Without It, Nobody, Commanding Officer or Any Ono Elao, Could Paaa That Sentry. After the prarttainary challenge the sentry had ordered the commanding offleor to advance with the counter sign. But unfortunately the latter had forgotten It "Come, come, sentry,*’ said the O. O., somewhat testily, "you know me, don’t you?” "Yes, sir, hut I've got to have the password." “You obey all orders of the com manding officer, do you not ?" “Yes, sir." "Then why not let me pass at once?" "Because, sir, the corporal gave me strict orders not to let any one, man, woman or child, pass this post unless they say ‘Saratoga,’ and If you can't do It you’ll have to go around some other way.’’—The Leatherneck. Success. The Sunday school teacher wns do ing Ills best to Inculcate lessons of altruism, and hnd tuken ns bis exam ple the case of two little boys, one of whom was always ready to grub, while the second was willing to share everything. “Now, children," he finished Impres sively, "which of these two boys will grow up Into the successful and re spected man?" And ns one voice the class an swered : "The guy that gits I”—American Le gion Weekly, MELCHOR- Druggist The OM Sellable ToL South SOT 4826 So. 24th St. I ■ ■ . ■ ..■ .. lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllt E Beat Drugs, .Sodas and Sundries 3 in City ■■■ ! PEOPLES DRUG STORE § ~ Prompt Service ” E 111 So. 14th St. Jack. 1446 = Tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinii JJi When in Need of S :■ Cleaning and Pressing £ Jj* Call Market 3366 "a Prices Cheep Work Guaranteed ^ < J. D. HINE*5 < % Tailor Cleaner Hatter 5i % 5132 So. 24 St. Market 3366 % WWWWWMWWMWW Finkenstein’s Groceries & Meats But Goods tl Lowest Prices 2Sth &JBkmdo|SU. Web. 1942 We Sen Skinner’s She higheet grade Macaroni, Spaghetti, Egg Noodles and Other Macaroni Products. o..«■—.. ■( i EMERSON’S LAUNDRY The Laundry That Suits All 1301 No. 24th St. Web. 0S20 ... • ■«■'»■.. « o JWWWWWWWWdV/AVY I Eagle Cafe j; Lake and 27th Street SPECIAL CHICKEN DIN- $ NER SUNDAYS AND J THURSDAYS ;j Phone Webster 3247 Chas. Hemphill Prop. PATRONIZE THE STATE FHRNITIRE WT~ 14TH ST. CORNER DODGE ST. Don*!*, 1317 Brunswick n::rh ror and Record* It Pays to Advertise in the Monitor w. in i iCO sg- ' r~__.■...— | // C‘ £rParIson 1? --!—(Cof Liberty Dm? r* / " I ssr^ZTUn** / /mn *eeda/ /£“ - a— N..„ _ I te? s-W °*"dU t7°RNEys •fe* — CounC.:?(0^'c. N. IV. )V4»F: ! Pr4c*'c'"BA'n°rS*0V‘ 111 South ,«%•' Couru** PM. fESpz^i f y Morn Unti, . 4 f «T nt»Lateat | Y la*f x | *M™ »0 a%» Cfl I IA-*• ^ LEs,rs* co. 1 X Truck. , ’ Pr»P. X I He Ha«,"7*S-WL,rt' * I X 20/0 JV An, l % t '• ‘/tl, st. An APy "h,rn X ********** 0n-'-a. iVeb. ? / ^'X">+**44*r 0 ~2 1F■ people^ ;~S£ 2419 i,Hke F«rni,bftl a"d V'>,"‘'Pr (Jn Drew in ak tag, llat* Cleaned A Blocked FRANK BARNES. Tailor CLEANING AND PRESSING All Styles oI Cain Made. Web. mi.- IMi No. 24th SL, Omaha. WWAAWA*AVAVWW The Western Funeral Home { [Pleases 'S And will ivvt you night and day Ji JSI* Lake Si. IPhone Web. IMS «1 SILAS JOHNSON, Prop. '! FUNERAL DIRECTORS i! ' ~-‘ ‘ T t I ■ | T .. M. L. Hunter Distributor of Be-LHe Coffee, Teas and other household necessities special Premiums Laundry Tablets 2201 Grant St Web. 0881 -- .a i on i i n » “ h?nd? r,cord* SHLAES PHONOGRAPH CO. f I—I PRICE of Family Laundry Service REDUCED! ROUGH DRY. 10c per lb. for first 16 pounds 7c per lb. over the first 16 pounls Minimum charge, $1.00 FLAT WORK or LINEN BUNDLES 8c per lb. Minimum charge, 60c dry wash, no starch fist pieces ironed 8c per lb. Minimum churge- $1-26 Quality and Service Same as Heretofore Standard Laundry 24th, Near Lake Street Phone Webster 0130 BUIIIIIIIMHMIMIMMimiMlimimillMtMUIlHUUMIMIMlilliiuiMllltUI