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About The Omaha morning bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 1922-1927 | View Entire Issue (April 8, 1923)
The Sunday Bee MORNING—EVENING—SUNDAY THE BEE PUBLISHING COMPANY NELSON B. UPDIKE. Publisher. B. BREWER, Gen. Manager. MEMBER OF THE ASSOCIATED PRESS —.,.!$? "f which The Use Is a member. U acluatnlp entitled to the uee for republican ou of all newi di*patch«a credited to It or ■ot otherwise credits In this paper. and also the looal news published herein. All rlihts of repjhbcstlone of our ei.eoial dlanstohee ere also rteersed. BEE TELEPHONES Private Branch Exchange. Ask for the Department AT Untie or Person Wanted. For Night Calls After 10 P. M.: Editorial Department. AT lantic 1021 or 1042. 1000 OFFICES Main Office-—17th and Famam Co. Bluffa ... 16 Scott St. So. Side. N. W. Cor. 24th and N New York—286 Fifth Avenue Washington - 422 Star Bldg. Chicago - - 1720 Steger Bldg. A MELODY FROM THE HEART. What is your favorite hymn? Everybody has'one; the choice may date back many years, to an old-fashioned church, where the elder sounded the key note with a tuning fork or the little reed, and then pitched the air where all could grasp and follow it through the rising, fall ing, swelling and diminishing progress of the tune to the end. Perhaps a critic might in that singing have found every vocal fault or deficiency charge able against the canons of music. All save one. Sin cerity and melody were there. One hymn, for its words or simple melody, appealed to each more strongly than any of the others, and you were al ways uplifted just a little when the minister an nounced that tho congregation would stand and sing that particular one of which you were most foftd. A New York newspaper has Just announced, as a result of a survey it made, that America’s favorite hymn is “Abide With Me.” For the second choice, “Nearer, My God, to Thee,” is listed. Without | wishing to fix a definite conclusion, we are inclined to agree with the choice so announced. Around each of these hymns clings the hope and the aspira tion of unnumbered followers of the Nazarene, as well as the expressed or undefined longings of all the race: ■'Abide with me, fast fails the eventide: Tho darkness deepens, Lord, with me abide." It is the soul nearing the close of its earthly day, homing to the Valley of the Shadow of Death, where “I shall fear no evil; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me." "Nearer, my God, to Thee,” he feels himself with each breath he dratvs, yet in1 his de- 1 pendenee and humility, he continues his supplica tion: ‘"Whop other helpers fail, and comfort* flee, Help of the Helpless, O, abide with me'." “Lord, Thou hast been our dwelling place in all generations. . . . Even from everlasting unto 1 everlasting, Thou art God.” "When other helpers fail, ahd comforts flee,” where shall man turn if not to God? "Under us are the everlasting arms,” i and the prayer sent up in the hymn hrings the con solation that our faith is not misplaced, and that through all the ways of this life and into the portals of the next we do not ask in vain, "-0, Lord, with me abide.” — THE LIFE OF A CHILD. A little girl, the light of a home, whose short five years on earth had taught her nothing of the dangers that await a baby when away from its mother’s side, toddled out into the world by her self. Today a home is darkened, a mother weeps, a broken little body lies still and cold, with the smile of mi angel on the Voiceless lips. Just another little life crushed out under the j wheels of an automobile, the Juggernaut that is taking such terrible toll. All who saw the accident say the little toddler darted in front of the oncom ing car and the driver had no time to stop or turn. Unavoidable accident will be the verdict. Are such accidents unavoidable? Are we not pay- j ing too high a price in human life for the bene fits of the automobile as an agent of communica- i tion? Such accidents have accompanied all the ' forward steps that man has taken, just because man’s caution has not kept pace with his accom plishment. We have made great strides in all other 1 ways but safety. Our practice has been to adopt j a device, and then try to match it with another that will insure safety. Up to the present the race has been unequal, for danger has run ahead of se- | curity. Blame for this must rest on the human element. ' The factor that in the end determines is that of caution, and the take-a-chance individual is always present The latest unhappy episode, that of kill- i ing a little girl on the South Side Friday, is only another warning to parents and drivers that they 1 can not be too careful. A lifetime of anguish will not compensate for the results of a moment i of carelessness. Omaha’s residential streets will always be open to motorists, but they should not be used so as to exclude the safety of children. GOING STRAIGHT UP. When the sea creatures crawled out of the primeval ooze onto dry land it was necessary that new ways of living be conquered, especially new ways of locomotion. One group became flyers, and found in the air a freedom of motion equal to that their ancestors had enjoyed in the water. Man has labored for generations to overcome the secret the birds worked out for themselves. Lighter than air machine* have gone far towards the solution, and heavier than air Vessels have made much prog ress. Yet the true power of flight remains beyond grasp. For example, birds rise with case from anyplace; so does a balloon, but the airplane must get a run ning start. Birds soar or float; so does the balloon, but when the engine of the airplane is shut off, its forward motion arrested or lessened, down it comes. How to keep tho machine aloft and apparently mo tionless is the problem that so far has baffled re search. At the moment an interesting scries of experi ments with the type of flying machine called “heli copter” is in progress at Dayton. A device that will lift itself straight up from the ground, will be capa ble of lateral as well ns vertical motion, and nhle to sustain itself at a predetermined height is sought. Success so far attained encourages the workers to persist, in hope that the end will be achieved. When it does come, man will have discovered the most important element of the groat process by which the fowls protect themselves against condi tions they can overcome only by flight. The air can he conquered, the only doubt being as to whether man is on the right track. What has been done stimulates the ambition to do more, and out of it all may yet come that knowledge which will permit us to, soar from place *o place as readily as if the air and not the land wore our medium. Man haa overcome greater obstacle*, ar\d surely will win this contest. ,, # DRAMA ON NATURE’S STAGE. Georgia’s peach crop has been killed so often, sometimes by a late frost, sometimes by mere rumor, that there would seem particular wisdom in cele brating the blossom time instead of the harvest. It is difficult to picture a festival more picturesque than one held recently among the orchards of Port Valley, Ga. The Japanese have their cherry blossom fetes, but inasmuch as their cherry trees bear no fruit, from an occidental standpoint there is something lacking in the significance of the occasion. To unite the celebration of the fruitfulness of nature and its pure beauty is seemingly much more to the point. For the second year, under a canopy of delicate pink, Georgia has held its pageant of the peach. The scene itself, with 8,000,000 fruit frees abloom, was like a miracle. The finest thing is that the people thereabout should realize it, and burn incense at the shrine of nature. There were, of course, floats depicting the plant ing, cultivating, picking and shipping of the crop. The main part of the pageant depicted the history of the land itself. Painted Creeks and Cherokees summoned by the spirit of history swaggered across the-five acre stage, withdrawing upon the approach of De Soto and his troopers. Oglethorpe and the debtors with whom he settled the colony, then the boys in gray, completed the historic scenes. The gods of the orchard, the wind, the rain and the qun, came on, and then in fluffy pink organdies and ber rying blossoms from the trees, 300 girls danced ahead of the king and queen who are to reign until the next festival. Three miles of tables were set up beneath the trees and 25,000 persons sat down to a barbecue. Southern hospitality would not consider an event of this sort complete without devoting attention to the inner man. It is, However, the way in which this ceremony brings the people close to nature that is most to be remarked. Something of the same spirit is to be found in the apple blossom fetes of Norway. How fitting it would be if in Nebraska communities the people would celebrate in some such beautiful way the gathering of the harvest. The orchards have their wonders; so also have fields of wheat and corn. m 1 ' .... i REAL BOY. A natural boy is one of the most refreshing and beautiful wonders of God’s creation, and this would be a joyless world without him. Yet, it often hap pens that the boy is the object that receives the brunt of the criticism from the home, the school and the community. Perhaps this is because of his habit of simply being what he is, and his scorning to do the little things which make up the niceties in social life, but which do not necessarily come from the heart. He is tender-hearted and quick to show mercy for helpless animals, but scorns pity for himself. The starved tramp dog will always elicit sympathy from the boy and he will sacrifice ,\ s most treasured pos sessions for the privilege of taking a neglected dog into his home. A little boy was recently seen lead ing a lame pony on the sidewalk because the unpaved street had frozen in a rough condition and hurt the bruised foot of his pet. The boy is loyal and expects loyalty from others. He is fair. Not many have as highly developed sense of fairness as has the boy. The failure to live up to the code, “play fair,” followed by groups of boys in daily association, is often the cause of the boyish fights indulged in from time to time. There is nothing the boy appreciates more than a show of confidence from an older person in his own ability, provided he knows this to be sincere and he has respect for the judgment of the older person. There is nothing dishonest in the boy and he is quick to detect deceit in another. Theee praiseworthy attributes may be appealed to, and thus the criticisms avoided. Parents and teachers can help the boy by building upon the honesty, tender nature, loyalty and fairness; and advantage, profitable to character building, may be taken of the boy’s joy in proving himself worthy of the confidence placed in him, and thus the minor offenses may be crowded out and eliminated. "BREAD PILLS OR BITTER ALOES?* While the discussion as to the moral quality of books and plays goes on apace, uncoiling its length in interminable sentences, another line of thought with regard to literature is coming in for a little attention. Modernists are*eager for realism, to the entire exclusion of romance, and from that flows some of the complaint against morals. Writevs of today pretend to deal with facts, taking things as they find them, and set up the claim that they hold the mirror up to nature only. Is this altogether true? Consider The Forsyte Saga,” or “Main Street,” “Miss Lulu Bctt," or “The Hairy Ape.” Do they, or either of them, hold more than the impressions of the author, to which he has carefully fitted a set of puppet characters, each measured and trimmed to fill a prepared niche in the tale, to wear clothes, perform evolutions and speak phrases, designed to carry the argument the author conceives will throw upon the page a cross section of life as he believes it to exist. As a general result, people fail to recognize what is pretended to be a photographic reproduction of themselves, or else, as did Polonious when he de termined to fool Hamlet to the top of his bent, they find “it is backed very like a camel.” Meanwhile, there is real hunger for the good, old-fashioned story-telling novel, one in which souls are tried and wherein the course of true love eventually turns Into the quiet pool of life and the lpvera are for gotten. This is not merely n yearning for the happy ending, for the treacle of literature. K.ihellais was as realistic as any of the modernists who are get ting their books suppressed or excluded from the mails, but he also had in mind a definite thing. Cervantes wrote an immortal farce, and ho laughed the armed knight to death. Dickens achieved with his romances remarkable reforms; Thackeray's min gled pathos and satire illuminated the social ways of early and mid-Victorian England as did no other; George Elliot drew \fith careful lines the pictures of English life of thf middle anil lower classes, aa Disraeli threw it« political and high social pictures on n screen from which they will never fade. Scott and Lytton wrote tho most engrossing of romance, but with a background of history, science and philosophy that is unapproachable and undeniable. The list might he continued. In America we have Hawthorne, Cooper, Irving, Bret-Harte, and nmong the later writers Harold Frederick, S. Weir Mitchell, Tarkington, and Basil King, whose ro mances are frankly fiction, yet filled with such ea sence of realism that they satisfy because their truth is palpable. Our people do not require their moral or socialogical teachings in capsules or sugar coated, but they do not require that all the contents of the dose should he exhibited in their stark nakedness. Realism loses nothing when it is clothed in agree able romance. Via Football i The Story of • Boy Who Found Himself. — By Martha B. Kelly Bud Bailey was Just a boy. That ap pellation describes him perfectly, though he was known around town by other and less complimentary terms. His father worked In the fac tory. His mother worked hard in the home. Bud’s parents had little educa tion. Their opportunities had been meager, and the higher forms of cul ture were unknown to them. But they were honest and honorable. Pos sessed of homely virtues, clean of life. The children born to them were strong in body. They were sent to school for two reasons. The law compelled It and It was a measure of relief to get rid of the turbulent brood that ha rassed the overworked mother. When they were at school she was reason ably free from the haupting fears of danger that beset the life and limb I of children of the type of Bud Bailey. I Bud belonged to the gang. He could | shoot straight In a game of keeps. He eould line out a hall on the dia mond. He could snake a hatful of preen apples from the neighbor’s cherished tree and consume them with never a pang of stomach or con science. He could yell louder, run faster, fight harder than any other boy in the school. He was not a mental prodigy. In lessons he was classed as slow. He gave his teachers considerable troutJe, for the exuber ance of spirits in bis rapidly develop ing body made him restless and hard to manage. A bit of a bully on the playground, as lioys like Bud Bailey are apt to be, he was often In dis grace and the subject of complaint. Bud came to the notice of the phys ical director of the school when he tried out for grade school athletics. The trained eye of the coach took note of his splendid physique. The broad shoulders, the muscular limbs end agile step. Here was material. He had a talk with Bud's teacher and found out a few things about his qual ifications and characteristics. Nothing daunted, he collared fhe l>oy the next day and talked to him. He told him a number of things and Bud listened as ho had never listened to anyone before. In the matter of -smoking, his father had told him be tween pipes to let tobacco alone. His teachers had faithfully presented the evils of the practice, still Bud Intend ed to smoke as soon as he was big enough to overcome the hazard that In his mind was represented by the beating he would get if caught. But coach put it before him In a different light. He said: "Bud, It’s up to you now. The time to quit is before you begin." He explained many things in terms that the boy understood. Benool took on new meaning from that day. He heoame possessed with an ambition to go to high school. To play football. Yes. Hhamelessly be it said at that period in Bud’s life it was the height of his ambition to play on the high school team. The coach had said he could make It. but he explained further that to be quali fied for a place on the team It was 1 necessary to maintain a certain grade i of scholarship. Athletics was pie, but 1 lessons meant work, grinding study. 1 a handicap. He had no scholarly an cestry to back him. It was dig for Bud. Bud went Into high school and long pants at IS. He was bashful, awk ward. gawky. Ill at ease in study halt or class room, that part of high school was a torture to him at first. At the first call of the coach he was out for football practice. Fellows that wore tailored clothes In school were decked out In togs exactly like his own. looking no better nor hardly as well os he in the clownish suits, j They were put through their paces and the practice,! eye measured their muscle and skill. Bud's progress through the four years of high school was a succession of triumphs In athletics. That does not mean that they were easily won. ' He fought for them. I'mler capable ( Instruction he dcvelojced qualities i that, added to native strength «nd j speed, made him a star. • • • It is not the purpose to set forth Buds exploits in this respect exrept as they contributed to the develop, ment of his character. While Bud Bailey played football he was getting something that was of far more value to the making of a man than the ! development of physical ability. Bud 1 learned tljat strength and sire alone i didn’t wdn the game. He learned team \ work, to merge such qualities as he possessed with those of others of the team, so that as one man they played for victory. To count the success of \ the team greater than personal honor. He learned to obey without question, to act without command. He learned to take heed for himself and for his fellows He knew the thrill of vie- ; tory. He tasted the bitterness of de feat. Often bruised in body and sore in spirit. Now hot, now cold, the variable winds of popular acclaim swept over him. There were lessons in courage, in self-control, in sports manship. losing fights, hardly won battles. Not in athletics alone did Bud make progress. His body took on lines of grace as well ns strength. He over came much of his shyness and cn gaged in the social activities of the school. Athletic honors gave him a degree of prestige among his school mates, to be sure, but he commanded and held their respect by strength of character. Bud came to know through his association on the field that the sons of the rich and promi nent were not always the sissyJfttys he had once thought. That many of them were abundantly able and dis posed to glv*\ httn a lick and take one even aa he. Bud Bailey. It waa good Prairie Gems Hava yon had any new potatoes? You will note they are like a politician --they are thin skinned. — Hastings Tribune. Occasionally one reads of a jttrv sending men to the penitentiary for an old-fashioned term of years. One good way to stnft crime !« to punish criminals,—Nebraska City Press. An ecotjnrrdst Is a man who go. s vhrltlng when foodstuffs aro high priced—Itlalr Pilot. NET AVERAGE CIRCULATION for MARCH, 1923, of THE OMAHA BEE Dally.79,997 Sunday.80,029 ; !>«»#■ not Include return*, left <rv*r*. • ample* or paper* epoiled in printing nnd Include* no *pcclnl Ming. R. BREWER, Gan. Mgr. V. A. BRIDGE, Cir. Mgr. Aubarrlbrd and awarn la before ma ihla Id day of April, 1021. W. H. yuivEY. (Saal) Notary Public L -Ab- --— - - We Nominate— For Nebraska's Hall of Fame. JEANNE BOYLl of Fremont has made for herself an enviable reputation In not one but three branches of music. Perhaps best known as a composer, she Is also a brilliant pianist, an able accompanist and a teacher of experience and wide knowledge, Since 1914 she has ap peared a great deal In public and ha* composed many songs, piano pieces ! and works for orchestras. Her work is purposeful, her musical tendency ! fine and sincere us well as modem, and she Is recognized as one of America's foremost composers. Miss Boyd was accepted last year as a member of the famous MacDow ell colony, endorsed by Mrs. Edward MacDowell and sponsored by the Chi cago composer*. P.ossitor G. Cole and Eric Lie Lamaster. Her acceptance i was a mark of recognition as an ar tist and creative genius. At present Miss Boyd Is located In Chicago, where she is connected with the Lyceum Arts conservatory as di- j rector of tho theofy department and teacher of piano.^ for him to know this? It battered down that unwholesome sense of qon sciouanesa. Bud will graduate In the spring. He will not carry off the honors of his class In scholarship, but his record has been creditable; more than that, : his work has shown gradual improve- j rnent as he learned to apply himself to serious study. What of the fu ture? It is for the people of Nebraska to decide whether it has been worth ! while In the case of Bud Bailey. | Books, learning for learning's sake had no appeal. Athletics kept him in school. The necessity to qualify l for his place on the team made him study. There was good fiber In hia brain ns well as his body, and he has ‘ developed mental powers in keeping ‘ with his muscular ability. Left to follow the line of len«t resistance and ; the traditions of his family. Bud would have left school as early as the law would permit and would have gone to work at whatever Job and whatever wages he could get. He would have earned enough to pay his way and perhaps help a little With family expenses. He would probably have developed great physical strength and might have taken up som« of the coarser forms of Bport ns boxing or wrestling. Hi* develop ment along moral lines would have been shaped largely by home Influ ences and chosen arsoebttes. Hi* recreations would have been such as provided by the community and In dulged according to natural tendency. It has cost something to bring Bud to graduation. It has cost time,money and effort on his own part. It has meant sacrifice to his family for such help til he could give was sorely needed, and it has cost dollars and cents to th« taxpayers. Are boys like Bud Bailey worth to the community what It is costing to educate tlum? Will he become a more useful citron? Will he be a stronger man, better able to lift and carry such burdens as life will bring? j Will he put his shoulder to the w heel ! in community affairs and lie the more I efficient because of such training as th» schools have given him"* The vnlue of athletic training must be measured in Its relation to a high er development of character and use fulness. Education fits for life Bud represents a type, a large proportion of the school population Athletics directs the call of the youthful spirit for adventure, strife and conquest and provides a safe outlet for superabun dance of energy. If school athletics serves but one purpose, that of keep ing such as Bud Bailey In school under Instruction and discipline dur ing the formative period of his life, It la well worth the cost. Out of Today's Sermons "Love never falleth" Is the theme of Rev. Carl A. ftegeratrom, in his sermon this morning st the Swedish Kaptlst churrli. lie will say in part: The best in the world fails. Rich or poor, wise or unwise, learned or un learned, weak or strong, the morally had or the morally good, yes, any thing of this world falls. Not so with love. Hatred, In contrast to lovs, has proved Itself a failure again and again. The recent world war, with all Its horrors and terrible conse quences, was a colossal failure for its promoters. Did Germany or any other nation gain anything? Cain hated and killed his brother. His very namo will forever remain a curse. Can you think of anyone who really gained anything by hatred? Yet this sinful, slnsick world Is yet fostering the spirit of revenge. Wars, suicide and murder are kept lurking In the minds of the peoples of the world. What is the only remedy for this dreadful condition? Let it be written In golden letters across the sky— "Ixjve.” Love cannot fall because it is not something that the world has substi tuted for It. Love does not a lot of f'owery talking; love does not brag of its great knowledge; love does not boast of how liberal It Is in sacri ficing itself or its possessions, because all these things without love fall. Surely love can speak. It does know. It has sacrificed to the uttermost, but in the spirit of perfect humility. Love suffereth long, and Is kind; love envl elh not, vaunteth not Itself, is not puffed up. Loth not. behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own. Is not easily provoked, thlnketh no evil. To the church of Ephesus, who substi tuted works for love, Jesus said: “1 know thy works and thy labor and thy patience, and how thou ranst not bear them, which are evil. Neverthe less, I have somewhat against thee. I*ec«use thou hast left thy first love." liev. 2:2-4. Here a church was about to fail without love. Kev. Albert Kuhn, pastor of Bethany Presbyterian church, will preaeli this morning on "The Saerednees* of the Common Life.” In his sermon he will say: Keligion is a much broader matter than superficial folks regard It to be. They Identify religion with that which is directly connected with cus tomary forms of worship. The man, who walks to church on a Sunday morning with his Bible under his arm or the prayer book in his hand, or who goes to confession, or who per forms the Talmudic rites at his home, is. they think, practicing religion. Our text: "Whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of Ood,” (1 Corin thians, (10:10), teaches us to have an entirely different conception of what pertains to the realm of religion. Whatsoever ye do, whether you pre pare a sermon or peel potatoes, whether you run a rescue mission or a nickel show, whether you read a mass or write the t>aceba!I news for the daily paper, whether you play on the church organ or on th» wash board, consider as part of your pray ers to Almighty Ood. Oh, what a revolution would be wrought In our city if everyone from Mayor Dahlman down to the smallest i newsboy would look at his Job as a divine service. What good groceries we would i have: what honest customers the gro cers would have; what nice, clean, happy homes we would have: there would be no bribe taking’ policemen, no bootleggers trying to bribe them; { there would be no people perjuring themselves In court and no lawyers teaching them how to do It: there would be no bosses offering starva tion wages nor workmen loafing be hind the boss’ back. Daily Prayer | Then shall wa Inoir If we follow on to Wr. w the Lord; HI# g log forth :a pre pared ae l!.a moraine and He shall come unto ua aa the rain, ee the latter and former rain unto tha earth-—Hoaea 11. O God, Father. Savior, and Revealer. atinctify all those whu in the midst of truth seek more truth. As they ques tion the authority of the pest, in crease their loyalty to the things which are eternal. May liberty of thought leave unsullied the simplic ity of their trust In Thee. As the steepfscent (f truth reveal# the ever- , w idening horizon of Thy thought, | bad them in the narrow path of hum- i ble and sacrificial service. Knable | them to sh ire the joy uf their emun- | clpation without weakening other men's faith in the Uod of their < wn experience May pride of learning never chill the warmth 14 prayer. ' May oppositk ;g and misinterpretation , arouse within them no hitternr as or plana for retaliation. As by Thy grace they ure led into deeper sympathy w ith their Lord, may they give to the world their new assurance of the triumph of Hie Kingdom, rather than the agony of their struggle with doubt. And ever nmld the clash of argument may they find the peace that passeth understanding in Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. SHAILRR MATHS-WS. DD, Chicago. 111. Funeral Home of F. J. Stack & Co. *1 The heads of this or ganization consecrate them selves to perform every service in the best possible manner and at reasonable cost. This is not remote or theoretical, but immediate, active and actual. Ambulance Service Pierce-Arrow F. J. Stack & Co. Funeral Directora 3324 Famam Street y<s> Sowi By NeHrasfia's GreaiPoei ddksi ______—« “VENGEANCE IS MINE.” Talbeau become* penitent and seeks for Mike. 'Twas tong before Talbeau could sleep that night. Some questioner, Insistently perverse, Assailed him and compelled him to rehearse The Justifying story of the friend Betrayed and slain. But when he reached the end, Still unconvinced the questioner was there . To taunt him with that pleading of despair— For old time's sake! Sleep brought him little rest; For what the will denied, the heart confessed . In mournful dreams. And when the first faint gray Aroused him, and he started on his way, He knew the stubborn questioner had won. No brooding on the wrong Mike had done Could still that cry: "Please now, ter owld tolme's sake, A little dhrop!" It made his eyeballs ache With tears of pitjr that ha couldn’t shed. No other dawn, aava that when Bill lay dead And things began to stare about the hall. Had found the world eo empty. After aU. What man could know the way an other trod? And who was he, Talbeau, to play at God? Let one who curbs the wind and brews the rain Essay the subtler portioning of pain To souls that err! Tall»»au would make amends: Once more they'd drink together and be friends. How often they had shared! He struck a trot, Eyes fixed upon the trail. The sun rose hot: Noon poured a blinding glare along the draws; And still the trail led on. without a pause To show where Mike had rested. Thirst began To be a burden on the little man: His progress dwindled to a dragging pace. But when h“ tipped the flask, that pleading face Arose before him. and a prayer de nied Came mourning back to thrust his need aside— A little drop! How M,ke must suiter now! "I'm not so very thirst*-, anyhow.” He told himself. And almost any bend Might bring him on a sudden to hie friend. He'd wait and share the water. Every turn Betrayed a hope. The west began to i burn: Flared red: then ashen; and the stars came out. Dreams, colored by unacknowledged doubt. Perplexed the trail he followed In bis sleep; And dreary hours before thVt tallest steep Saw dawn. Talbeau was waiting for 'the day. Till noon he read a writing in the clay That bade him haste; for now from wall to wall The foot marks wandered, like a crabbed scrawl An old man write*. They told a gloomy tale. And then the last dim inkling of a trail Was lost up*n a patch of hardened ground: Tiie red west saw him, like a nervous hound That noses vainly for the vanished track. Still plunging into gullies, doubling back. And pausing now and then to hurl 4 yell Among the undulating steeps. Night fell. The starlit buttes still heard him panting by. And summits weird with midnight caught his cry To answer, mocking. Morning brought despair: Nor did he get much comfort of hi* prayer: "God, let me find him! Show m« where to go!" Some greater, unregenerate Talbeau Was God that morning; for the lesser heard His own bleak answer word for word! Oo on, and think of all the wrong you've d/>nel HI* futile wish to hasten sped th* sun. That day, as he recalled It In th* dark. Was like the spinning of a burning arc. He nodded, and the night wae but a swoon: And morning neighbored strangely with the noon; And evening was the noon’s penusai bral haze. So further ran the reckoning of dayd. 'Twas evening when at last he stooped to stare Upon a puzzling trail. A wounded bear, It seemed, had dragged Its rump across the sands That floored the gullies now. But sprawling hands Had marked the margin! Why wad that? So doubt Mike too had tarried here to puzzld out What sort of beast had passed. And yet—how queer— 'Twas plain no human feet had trod* den here' A trail of hands! That throbbing la his brain Confused his feeble efforts to explain! And hazily he wondered If he slept And dreamed again. Tenaciously h# kept His eves upon the trail and labored on. Lest swooping like a hawk, another dawn Should snatch that hop# sway. A sentry crow. Upon a sunlit summit, saw TaTbeau And croaked alarm. The noise of many wings, In startled flight, and raucous chat* tarings Arose What feast waa Interrupted there A little way ahead? "Twould be the bear! He plodded en. The Intervening space Sagged under him; and, halting at the place Where late the flock had been, fca strove to break A grip of horror. Surely now he'd wake And see the morning quicken In ths skies! The Thing remained! It hadn't any eyes— The pilfered sockets bore a pleading stare! I , A long, hoarse wall of anguish and despair . Aroused the echoes. Answering, arose Once more the Jeering chorus of the crows. (The End.) Build Your Home \k I'm Draara* Caa Coaa Trua TRY oar service — IS years advising, plan nine. building, financing —Call ATlantic 8102. Mattson & Smails "Builders of Good Homes'* I„ THE iHasmr & ^nmlm PIANOFORTE The Mason & Hamlin I’iano costa more than any other; and yet those competent to judge de clarr that it» worth far exceed* its price, for into it are built the thing* that are beyond the meas urement of money. I ike the olJ Cremona violin* it* enduring beauty of tone gives it a unique place among instruments of its kind Harold Bauer, master musician, writes: "It is the most superbly beautiful Instrument that I know”; t'ablo Cassia, known as the greatest living musician w ho draw* the bow, calls it "unequalled in Its artistic appeal” , Ross Raisa, the great soprano, proclaims it "absolutely the most perfect piano”; and similar opinion* are expressed by hundred* ©f •ther musician*. "> invite You to plat and hear this remarkable piano. Everything in Art and Mulls >513 15 Douglas Strvat