MILWA UKEE HAS
COUNTY ROAD SYSTEM
Many Miles of Concrete Highway Have Been Constructed In
This Western City and the Work Is Expected to
Be Completed In 1916.
From the Christian Science Monitor.
Milwaukee—With 65 miles of con
erete'roads In use and 35 miles under
construction, the people of Milwaukee
county believe that before the end of
the year they will possess perhaps the
finest system of country highways In
the United States. The roads, extend
ing Into the state In three directions,
are smooth, hard dustless and promise
to be more permanent than any other
kind of road.
A committee of the board of super
vlstors. the county governing body, Is
in charge of road and bridge building
In Milwaukee county. Immediate super
vision. however. Is given over to a
county highway commissioner who em
ploys a staff of assistants and Is held
directly responsible for all the work.
H. J. Kuelllng Is highway commissioner.
It Is the plan of the county board
to cover Milwaukee county with a net
work of concrete roads. Twelve high
ways leadina from Milwaukee out into
the state and forming a part of a pro
spective comprehensive system of roads
will be concreted from the city limits
to the countv line by the end of the
present year.
The county authorities are planning
to complete the system In 1916 with a
concrete connecting road. This road
will begin near Lake Michigan Inside
the north county limits, extend west
nearly to the county line, south to the
•outh countv limits and then east to
the lake. It will cross all the other
concrete roads and give Milwaukee
county a "circle route” of concrete, G1
miles long.
The roads, with a few exceptions,
•re 18 to 18 feet wide.
The roadbeds are thoroughly rolled
before the concrete Is laid. In many In
stances the roads are built up or cut
through to minimize the grades, much
u In the case of railroad beds.
The proportions now used In mixing
toncrete for the roads are one part of
lement. two of sand and three and one
tislf of gravel. Considerable care Is
bxerclsed In obtaining the right quality
sf materials, for this has been found
n be a large factor In making good
toncrete. No reinforcements of any
kind are used. This has been found
unnecessary on account of the uniform
ly solid nature of the country through
which the roads pass. Most of the
roads are faced with a smooth cement
mixture. In a few places, where traffic
conditions demand, a brick facing has
been laid over a concrete foundation.
In the case of the Whiteflsh Bay, Na
tional avenue and Grand avenue
stretches, which resemble boulevards
more than country highways, a facing
of asphalt wn* laid over the concrete
foundation. The Whltflsh Bay road,
which leads through a fashionable resi
dence district. Is 40 feet wide and three
miles long.
Bridges were necessitated on some of
the roads. They were built of concrete
and Increased the cost of the roads con
siderably. A matter of satisfaction to
users of the roads, however, Is the fact
that the concrete roadways were con
tinued unbroken over the bridges.
These concrete roads are all “state
Rid” roads, the state paying one-third
of their cost. The state furnishes this
aid for the building of permanent high
ways that are recognised ns part of a
state highway system. To come under
this category, a road must lead “some
where”—that Is. It must be part of a
mainly traveled way between two or
more cities or towns.
The township through which a road
passes pays part of its cost, though not
•ny definitely settled percentage, while
the county pitys the rest. No part of
the cost Is charged directly to owners
of property along the road.
Regarding the cost. Commissioner
Kuelllng, In a recent report, showed
that the cost of construction during
1914 varied from $1.10 to $1.45 per square
yard. During 1913. when cement was
cheaper but labor more expensive, the
cost of work done undev a contract sys
tem varied from $1.24 to $1.72, while
that done by the commission’s own
force was from $1.30 to $1.61.
The costs varied principally, accord
ing to the distance materials had to be
transported. It was explained. The
maintenance cost, according to Mr
Kuelling’s report, will differ a little
with the quality of concrete In the road,
but Is comparatively low.
“We consider it economy to have a
smnll maintenance crew go over all the
roads once or twice a year.’" says the
report. “Such a crew consists of a
foreman, one team and four laborers.
Tinder average conditions this crew will
cover all Joints, cracks arid small pits
at o' cost of from 115 to *30 per mile
of 18-foot road."
From 1912. when construction of con
crete roads was begun, to January 1
1915, the cost of Milwaukee county's
roads was *1,199,489. For tills year
*740.445 is available, making a total of
nearly *2,000.000, which will have been
spent by the end of the year. Though
this figure is large, the taxpayers ap
parently do not begrudge Its expendi
ture. No complaint has teen heard,
and it Is not expected any retrench
ment In the present policy will need to
be made.
Concerning the matter of cost, Com
missioner Fuelling's report observes:
"While concrete in Its present form has
some disadvantages, we believe that it
now meets modern traffic Conditions ns
economically as any form of pavement
known. Wo also believe that the next
few years will bring about a quality of
concrete and form of construction that
will make a country road have a very
lengthy life from a road standpoint,
especially if the traffic conditions con
tinue to change in the direction they
now are going."
Hut few' objections have been raised
against the roads, among them being
the hardness of their surface for horses,
and the great temptation they give for
automobile and motorcycle speeding.
The former objection has been over
come by covering the roads with a thin
tar surface, while the latter is being
overcome rapidly by the sheriff's
mounted deputies. The state law, limit
ing the speed of motor vehicles to 25
miles an hour, is strictly enforced.
Evidence of This Utility.
The popularity of the new roads
and the need of snch highways for
the ever growing motor travel, are il
lustrated by a sample traffic census
taken at a certain point, in 1911 and
in 1914. During two days In October,
1911, from 5 a. m. to midnight, a total
of 39 motor-driven vehicles passed
this counting station. That was before
the concrete road was built. On a
single day in 1914, from 7 a. m. until
10 p. m., at the same point there passed
a total of 1,873 motor-driven vehicles
Another example of the Immense
change to motor vehicles was shown
In a census taken on the Blue Moung
road on a recent Sunday, when 2,961
motor cars and only 114 horse-drawn
vehicles passed the counting point.
“These illustrations." says Mr, Fuel
ling, "probably show the extremes in
comparison, but they are indications
of what we may expect In the future.
On week days the comparison is a
little different, showing that pleasure
and passenger transportation are
changing more rapidly than freight."
Another Important fact is that there
Is a wide use of the roads for side
walks. “Hiking” into the country has
been made less fatiguing and more en
joyable.
A phase not to be overlooked is the
benefit derived by the farming com
munities through which the roads lead.
A large percentage of farmers own au
tomobiles, and can reach city markets
with truck, dairy and poultry products
from almost any point in the county In
less than an hour.
The Jitney business has lent Itself to
interurban runs, in Milwaukee county.
Points formerly considered far distant
are placed within 20 or 30 minutes’
drive from the city limits, in tho all
inclusive Jitney, running on the
smooth, boulevard-like highways.
The roads have proven a maximum
efficiency, under practically all weath
er conditions. Though as smooth as
could be desired for motor vehicle
travel, the cement surfaces are not
nearly as slippery when wet as might
be expected. The cement covered
roads nre far less dangerous for Bkid
dlng than are asphalt faced city
streets.
Various good roads experts, includ
ing delegates to the Northwestern
Road congress, Col. W. G. Edens, rep
resenting the Associated Good Roads
organizations of Chicago and Cook
county, Illinois, and others, have in
spected Milwaukee county’s roads. All
are enthusiastic in praising the con
crete highways.
TREATS FOR CHILDREN.
/Pn nvrl p-K t IQIR Kir ♦V.*. nr_ « ...
paper Syndicate.)
At 3% years the heathy child begins
to crave the piquant dishes which are
the privilege of its elders. Then small
hands begin to abstract hits of celery
and lettuce in the kitchen, and some
times the infant cherub will he found
with a pickle almost bigger than itself.
The mother is horrified or indifferent,
and so the poor baby gets too much of
a bad thing or too little of a good.
It must he admitted that children as
young as this are better off with very
simple food, but when the human
body begins to cry out for grass, and
teeth are there to chew it. a bit of crisp
celery or lettuce sprinkled delicately
with salt cannot help to do good.
For children older than this, from 6
on. there may be u little variety In the
food that has begun to bore by intro
ducing some special dish tha't spurs
the appetite. Any one of those simple
recipes will be found n coaxer for the
child that knows how to use Its teeth
and is craving salad or new taste.
Orange or grapefruit salad—Separ
ate the fruit in plugs and peel and
shred these into fragments. Season
with a slight dust of fine table salt and
one teaspoonful of pure olive oil. Than
pile the bright mass upon a tender
lettuce leaf and pin this over the top.
lundie fashion, with a wooden tooth
in uiio simpe me saiaa win Dfl
fascinating.
Prune Salad—Soak half a dozen big
French prunes In water and when soft
dry them carefully. Pile them In a
circle on a dish with a slice of lemon
and a teaspoonful of sugar In the
center.
Apple Salad—Cut a Greening or a
bright Pippin In splinters and season
with salt and a teaspoon of oil. If the
apple skin Is red and the fruit has
been pared with that point in view, the
seasoned fruit may be rolled into a
ball and the gay paring wrapped about
it to look like an apple.
Fig Salad—Soak dried figs and then
boil them In a very little water until
tender. Chill them on the Ice and
then serve with strained honey.
Egg Balls- -These go very prettily as
a dressing for lettuce or cold string
beans cooked in plain water. Boll the
eggs hard, chill and mix the yolk with
a few drops of sour cream and salt to
taste. Then form this into balls with
butter boards, put them over the veg
etables and add a warm sour cream
dressing.
Cheese Balls—The little cream
cheeses at 10 cents apiece are suitable
for these. Make also Into balls with
the butter boards, and arrange them
in threes on a little plate, with a dab
or two of some pure fruit Jelly.
START A BULB GARDEN.
tcopyrigai, mo, oy me McClure News
paper Syndicate.)
Last August, Just as war was de
clared, Holland had thousands and
thousands of bulbs ready for export.
War and garden making do not go
' ei v well together, and so many of
Holland's thousands of bulbs were left
on her hands. Added to this. Holland
had much of the burden of the war
to bear last wtnter. Bo now an appeal
has been made to us all to buy bulbs
*—for most of our bulbs come from
Holland, and Holland needs our sup
port.
Why don't you combine pleasure for
yourself with the feeling that you are
Whelping the prosperity of thrifty lit
tle Holland and start a bulb garden?
t.et the order for your bulbs in right
away and then in September get to
work to make your garden.
The beauty about a bulb garden Is
that it can be largely left to Itself aft
er It is planted. That Is to say. it does
not need the careful weeding and tend
ing that other sorts of garden need.
And another thing, bulbs will flower In
a place too shady for a perennial or
annual flower garden, for bulbs flower
•ally, before the leaves are out, many
of them, and the shade Is not dense at
that time of year.
Some bulbs will Increase in size
from year to year. Some need to be re
newed every year or two. And half the
pleasure of the bulb garden will come
from learning the habits of the dif
ferent bulbs.
For Instance, narcissus and daffo
dils of all sorts Increase in size with
time. Therefore they make a good bulb
for naturalizing. If you have a grove
of trees where the grass is not kept
cut short, plant narcissus bulbs and
daffodils of all sorts in it. Clump them
about the tree trunks, or sprinkle
them carelessly here and there. They
will be lovely however they are plant
ed. And by the second year they will
look as natural as the dandelions or
violets that grow in the grass and
their slumps will increase in size.
When the leaves have turned yellowish,
after the flowering season is over, the
grass and the leaves can be mowed or
cut without injuring the bulbs.
Bulbs are lovely, too. in the hardy
The newest third rail patent is alive
only at the point of contact with the
shoe. Accidents are thereby prevented.
Friend and Enimy.
My friend wu perfect In my sight
An< all ho did was done aright;
I saw la 'aim no flaw or blot.
When men assailed him I was hot
His dear perfection to defend,
Because he was my trusted friend.
Mine enemy was wholly bad.
I saw each weakness that he had,
I wondered what men saw to praise
And heard approval with amase.
No worth or goodness could I Bee,
Because he was mine enemy.
Yet I was wrpng, for after all
In him I thought was Wholly small
I’ve found so many greatnesses.
I’ve found so hutch of littleness
In him Who had my perfetft trust
That time has made my Judgments Just
And noyr with keener ayes 1 nee
That neither friend nor enemy
Is wholly gOod or wholly ill,
Nor both are men asd human still.
In both Is much the years shall prove
That we shhuld hate—but more to love.
—Maurice Smiley In Le’slle’s Monthly.
ORDEAL OF DAVID HUME
By L. Hughes,
Britain Rights Reserved, j
A well preserved, gray haired woman
sas sitting In a comfortable arm chair by
a blazing fire one cold December day.
The room and Its occupant were well
suited to each other; they were both
Slothed In excellent taste, handsomely,
both Impressed the observer with an Idea
»f riches without ostentation.
A man of medium height with a
thoughtful, olever face, entered the room.
He looked about 40, but really he was
rapidly nearing hls 60th year.
"Oh, David," cried Mrs. Craven, cotnlhff
lo meet him with both hands outstretched,
“I sun so gjad you have come; I feared
something might prevent you, and I real
ty must have a talk with you today,"
"You knew I am always at liberty on
a Friday, for my week's work Is dene by
then, and there le only my pleasure to
consider," he replied In a musical voice.
"Yes, 1 knew; but when one particular
ly wants a thing, all Borts of unexpected
sccldents crt5p up to prevent It. Also, I
roust beg you to forgive me for dragging
you away from your real pleasure, your
etching—"
"No, no, EJeanor—my real pleasure Is
to be of service to my friends. Tell me
now, what Is troubling you7”
And he seated himself, drawing up hls
phalr In the manner of a man who feels
at home.
But now that he was there, Mrs. Craven
seemed In no haste to broach the subject
of her anxiety. Instead, she chatted
pleasantly on Indifferent subjects till the
tea was finished and removed.
"No, thank you, no lamps yet,” and the
soft-footed dSmeetlo withdrew.
"I think one can talk better by the fire
light," she oXjrtalned, half apologetically,
and DavM Ufflne replied:
“Yeur subject seems to cause you em
barrassment T"
"Why, yee, frankly, It doe*—you eee, it
Is about Etta."
Thera was no movement from the figure
opposite her, half hidden In the chair, only
a sort of tend* 'Stillness.
"I am trerinnad about her,” went on
Mr*. Craven, hurriedly; "she has refused
Charlie MoWbray for the second time.”
There was a short silence, and then
David said:
"Why doe* that trouble you?”
"He le a charming young fellow and
very nwch In love with her; he would
make her an excellent husband. It Is
most provoking that she should refuse
what any girl would jump at—"
"One thousand pounds a year, and—
youth,” said the man meditatively, the
lost word glmust a sigh.
"Well,” she replied, "the one thousand
pounds a year le not to be despised,
though I should not dream of urging the
marriage if It were only that, but we
have known him so long and he Is so
thoroughly a good fellow. Jehn says so.
and you know the value he puts on char
acter."
"What does John think about It?"
Mrs. Craven leaned forward.
“He says If she can find her happiness
with Charlie he would be ver; pleased,
but he Is not going to speak to her about
It—that le a woman's affair.”
Surely you don't want me to do so?"
cried Davjd In an alarmed voice.
"Yee, I do," replied Mrs. Craven firmly.
"Usten!"—and she enjoined silence by
holding up her hand. “You know that
six month ago John found out that hls
partner had been embezzling money.
Well, the bank could not afford a scandal,
the partnership was dissolved, and John
has to pay bxtjk all the money that young
Hilton had CaJten. The world must not
guess, for should there be a sudden de
mand on the bank It must close, there
fore we still live like this," and she waved
her hand comprehensively. "You alone
know of this affair, and If you think, you
will eee how Important it le that Etta
should be comfbrtably married, for we
can settle nothing on her, and should the
secret leak out, the crash may come at
any moment.
David was gazing thoughtfully at the
tire, and made no reply.
“You know what a great Influence you
have always had with the child—"
"Surely Etta la a woman now," and
there was an unwonted sound of Impa
tience In his voice.
"She la only 20," urged the woman of 53.
“In the eye* of the law she Is not old
enough to sign away money: why should
■he be any more lit to throw away the
Intangible treasure of an honest young
fellow's love?”
David smiled at the argument.
“Well, what does Etta say herself?"
What excuse does she give for such silly
behavior?"
Mrs. Craven glanced at him nervously,
and then spoke slowly, with her gaze on
the leaping flames.
"She says she might have loved him
had not her Ideal been something very
different—something older, graver, deeper,
something Infinitely above her—”
David's heart seemed to stand still as he
forced the question from his lips:
"And this Ideal—has she found it In
real life?”
"She thinks so," replied Mra Craven,
significantly.
The silence grew Intense; In David’s
ears there was only the sound of the
thumping of his heart, which ssemed to
him to grow louder and louder till ha
thought his companion must hear it. To
speak Just then without betraying his
emotion was beyond even his self control.
Suddenly Mr*. Craven rose and stood
before him, and spoke In a passionate
pleading:
"Now do you see why I want you to
speak to her? Poor, foolish child, that la
the only way to show her how hopeless
Is her dream without letting her know
she has betrayed her secret. You have
always been a sort of god to her from her
childhood, and In your kindness you have
almost made a friend of her despite her
Immature mind. How should she under
stand the real nature of her love, that
It Is a religion and not love at all? How
should she know that it will not bear the
terrible Intimacy of married life? That It
would not survive the discovery that you
* are a man and not a god? How should
she see the gulf that lies between you?
The gulf of mental growth, of experi
ence of life, of years—the guff that will
widen with every decade? How should
she know that she would never be a mate
for you. that your mind and heart are
given to your art? Or realize the wear
ing struggle It would be for you to earn
enogh to keep two? Into her Innocent
childlike worship practical thoughts have
never come; we must think for her, and
save her from wrecking her life.”
Hsr voles sank, as In a whisper, and
stretching out her hands to him In appeal, ]
she added: j
••Ah, David, do not be vexed with th*
poor child. Pity a mother’s anxiety for
her only daughter’s happiness, and speak
to her about this marriage. It Is the only
way to make her really understand what
are youf feelings towards her. I do not
want you to seriously urge her to marry
| Charlie; let her refuse him again, but I
! do entreat you to set her heart free that
j she may be able to love, with an every
day,- human love, sOnis man who 1*
wbrthy and of an mil table Rge."
"Eleanor, you and John have been my
friends for thirty years, and I would glvs
my right hand If It colild be of any serv
ice to you, but In this matter I cannot de
i clde without time for thought. Give me
j till tomorrow."
| "God bless you, David!” cried Mrs. Cra
> ver with a sob In her voice as he gave her
his hand. "I knew you would not fall
i me.”
And David walked out of the room like
a man In a dream.
| "What a dear, delicate minded fellow he
! Is!” murmured Mrs, Craven. “He evldent
; ly does not like the difficult task, perhaps
he fears the responsibility; but he Is as
sensitive as a woman, and I know he
wIU never let dear Etta guesB that he
knpws her secret. I am glad I had the
i courage to tell him."
■ Meanwhile David paced the cold, wet
streets.
i Why was this dazzling vision shown to
him only to be snatched away? If Etta
loved him, end God alone knew how hs
lovedher, why should ho not tell her of
It? Why should they not be happy? Had
he not a right to happiness like any other
man? And did she noi love him?
But then he knew the great question
was, what would be for her happiness?
On the one side, Charlie Mowbray,
young, strong and noble-natured, with a
good Income, and a beautiful home to
take ber to, where they might grow old
together and see their children grow up
around them.
On tie other hand, himself, elderly, poor
and unambitious, living on a bare two
hundred pounds a year as a designer,
whton had hitherto satisfied his few needs,
and devoting all his spare time to etchings
which gave satisfaction to his soul, but
brought In barely enough to cover their
expense. He felt himself the father of
hsr higher Intelligence, but—he was thirty
years her senior.
Hsw ought he to act?
Iviutual Attention.
"Does your wife darn your socks for
you?” asks the Intimate friend of the
long-suffering husband.
"She doeB,” answers the long-suffer
ing husband. "She usually darns 'em
with yarn that Is as thick and rough
as packing cord, and as a result they
hurt my feet and make me swear all
the time I wear them.”
"Ah!” was the blithe comment of the
friend, "she darns ’em and you dams
’em.”
(PiMHJ *
“Pretty busy, I see. Writing: tor pub
lication? ”
"Can’t tell yet.”
"Mr. MacBooze seems to make light
of his troubles."
"7es; he burnB all his bills Just as
quick as he gets them.’
Ieb rQ~~~ I
Ambig UOUS. ;
"I heard that you have been on the
road with the Fly by Night company.
Was your trip a successful one?”
"Me dear boy. It was a walkover.1
z Jp
j
From the New York Times.
It Is 27 years since the one poem on
Gettyburg adequate to the theme was
written by a then unknown author, de
scribed ap "an ex-confederate soldier.”
‘The High Tide at Gettysburg,” written by
Will Henry Thompson, a fighter at 16 In
the army of northern Virginia has climbed
to higher fame ever since, and Is as sure
as any poem can be of an American im
mortality. But those who can thrill at Its
noble lines know little or nothing of Its
author, and probably suppose that he Is
des-d.
He Id still alive; and at Portland, Ore.,
he delivered a few days ago an address
before the Sons of the American Revolu
tion, called “The Shadow of a Flag.” The
meaning of a flag, the unaccountable love
men have for It, was his theme; and he
told horV, In the tramp homeward from
Appomattox, he and his boy comrades
“sat down In the dust and ashes of Sheri
dan's awful path and <|ivided a small
square of bunting which one of them had
torn from his regimental flag, and, hidden
In his bosom, had borne It away from the
field of his last despairing battle.” He told
how, In the fight at the Bloody Angle, a
federal flag was planted 6n the flimsy log
breastworks he and his comrades—he was
a Georgia boy—were defending:
‘Its folds were riddled and its staff was
splintered, but It placidly .waved above'
friend and foe alike, whose bayonets were
tangleO together above the works. And
once the shadow of the foeman’s flag fell
upon the young Georgian’s face, and as
he looked up his heart gave a startled
leap as he saw that Georgia’s star was on
the old banner yet.”
And he saw “Tlqonderoga and York
town, Monterey and Chapultepec fluttering
In its folds as the radiant thing stood In
the shriveling mouth of hell and waved
and waved.” We begin to see that it is a
parable of nationality he Is telling, and to;
see that the love of the flag Is as little to
be analyzed and as proof against argu
ment as the love for a mother. He told
the same story In his poem—the confed
erates lost, they could not win:
They smote and fell, who set the bars
Against the progress of the stars,
And stayed the march of motherland!
And the love of the flag, which Is the
love of the nation. Is strong whether what
the nation stands for Is good or bad, for
liberty or tyranny; so he argues, and he
says "This spirit of nationality, well sym
bolized by frenzied loyalty to a nation’s
flag. Is both a lofty and a dangerous ,
thing.” He flnds in It the true explana
tion of the mysterious outbreak In Eu
rope, and waves aside the white and red
books and other books and all the labored
arguments of statesmen. What brought
on 9>e war was "the proud pose of re
public er empire, which says ‘Everything
for our people, nothing for those beyonj
the border.’ ”
“My country better than yours! My des
tiny greater than yeurs! My culture high
er than yours! A place In the sun for me,
but not for you!” These are the cries that
the rifles are speaking, and the cannon
have thundered them until their brutal
lungs are hoarse. . . . Some day this
fever of nationalism must cool. No Imag
inary line can make one man better than
another. The shadow of no flag should
be a' sanctuary f»r one and a menace to
another. Yet because of this mad spirit of
nationality the earth Is drinking blood
with a hot thirst.”
A Poet's explanation, but poetp are often
seers, and this one sees beyond the mur
der at Berajevo and the confused political
ratiocinations about the causes of the war.
He turijs to our flag with “tim comrade
stars assembled upon It bound m a mighty
bond Of Indissoluble brotherhood, and no
star differs from another In glory!" Ag;#n
One Is reminded of "The High Tide of
Gettysburg:”—
They smote and stood, who held the hope
Of nations on that slippery slope.
Amid the cheers of Christendom.
Nationalism, a violent and Belflsh nation
alism, the deep cause of the mad scene in
Europe: America fn the shadow of the
■ flag that holds “the hope of nations.”
"We hope that the careworn, patient man
to whom we have confided Its vast des
tinies may keep our flag in the clear sky
—out of the smoke and flame of a delirious
world. But, whatever fate wills, we will
stand by the land and Its honor, and under
the shadow of Its dauntless flag—wave
where It may."
THE CHAMELEON’S CHANGEABLE COAT.
l.cup> iigni, imo, uy Liie medium a-scwb
paper Syndicate.)
Chameleon Is a big word for little
folks to remember, but, just the same,
he is a funny little creature that looks
like a lizard, which is not so hard a
word. But a chameleon can turn dif
ferent colors which a lizard cannot.
No, chameleons could not always turn
different colors, and it is how they
came to do so that this story is about.
Once upon a time chameleons were red
and lived in the woods. Of course, all
the other animals lived In the -Woods,
too, and most of them were vgry fond
of chameleons, because, being red. all
the animals could see them so easily.
So finally there were so few chame
leons that the animals had not. eaten
that they all got together and decided
that something must be done. But they
could not decide just what it should be.
After a while one of them said he
would go to the fairy queen and tell
her all about it. All the others thought
this was a good idea, and so it was
decided that Charlie Chameleon should
go.
Charlie told the fairy queen all about
himself and the other chameleons, and
of how all the animals tried to eat
them.
“That will never do," said the queen.
“Come back in a week and I will do
something for you.”
So the chameleon went away feeling
very glad. But all the animals had
heard about his visit to the fairy queen
and they tried harder than ever to eat
him. And Charlie Chameleon became
so frightened that he shivered and
shook, arid was afraid to go out to hunt
for food. So, when the time came for
him to go to the queen again, he was
so thin he almost fell through a crack
in the palace floor, and was shivered
and shaking so that the queen shed
great, big tears.
“Oh. dear! Oh, dear!” she cried,
“something must be done right away.”
So she sent for her magician. When he
came she told him all about it and or
dered him to do something at once.
The magician went and got a big pot
full of water, which he put over the
fire in the grate. When it was boiling
he picked up the chameleon and started
to put him in it. But the chameleon
cried out that he was afraid.
“It won’t hurt a bit,” the magician
assured him. So in went the chameleon,
w-hlle the magician stood by, watch in
hand. When the chameleon had been
in the water exactly three and a quar
ier minutes tno magician pulled mm
out. And, sure enough, the chameleon l
was still alive and Unhurt, but he was J
not red. In fact, he was not any color *
at all, just a funny color, the same as
the palace floor.
“There!” said the magician, “that Is
done. Now, come here.”
This time the chameleon was not
quite so afraid. First the magician
sprinkled some powder over him,
which made him sneeze. He sneezed
and he sneezed until his eyes watered,
and he felt himself turning green. And
that Is just what he was doing—turning
’•A'JF
r**rn*f
•V
t
green. After that the magician threw
some water on him and It was so cold
that the chameleop began to shiver. He
shivered and he shivered, until he felt
himself turnipg brown. And that la
just what he was doing—turning
brown.
“There you are,” said the magician.
“Now you can turn almost any color
you want.”
Then the chameleon thanked the
queen and the magician and started
home. He really did not believe the
magician, and was terribly scared.
Pretty soon he met a lion, and away
he scuttled to the nearest tree, wish
ing he was brown like Its bark. Of
course, the lion had seen him, but when
the chameleon had started up the tree
he stopped and looked around, because
he could not find the chameleon any
where. And then the chameleon knew
that the magician had really helped
him, and that he could turn the coloi
of the object he was on. After that
he played lots of tricks on the animals,
and all the other chameleons, who be
came like him and grew fat.
Turkey's Dilemma.
From the Indianapolis News.
When the Turks entered the war on the
side of Germany It was supposed that they
not only saw an opportunity to strengthen
their power to oppose the rise of Greece
and the Balkans, hut also to place the
Austrians and Germans under lasting obli
gations and thus postpone Indefinitely a
concerted effort on the part of European
nations to sweep the continent clear of all
but Christian peoples. Late rumors that
Turkey had sent envoys to Switzerland
with a view to effecting a separate peace
with the enemies of Germany have opened
again the question as to whether the
Turks are really Indulging In some far
sighted diplomacy that will eventually
make them a power to be reckoned with
in the future of Europe. It Is presumed
that the young Turks have seen that
owing to the unexpected resistance shown
In the operations against the Dardanelles
thev have gained a new standing in the
eves of Great Britain and Russia. They
have in fact, so ably defended this vital
DOint that it 1b not inconceivable that in
return for certain rights of free pasSage
Russia and England might be willing to
make concessions which would give the
Turks a hold of greater possibilities than
any to be gained through the friendship
of Germany.
As European affairs stand at present,
Turkey has, In many respects, gained
more than any nation at war. English
and Russian military authorities are still
firmly of the opinion that the Dardanelles
must eventually be taken. And the Turk
ish government must be convinced that
the strait forts will eventually yield to the
Incessant pounding of the allies. With
the Dardanelles open to the free passage
of commerce and enemy battle fleets Tur
key would lose practically all that she
has gained through the war. Sh,e would
be at the mercy of the allies, and after
her stubborn resistance and her support
of Germany she could expect little con
sideration. But If today she should offer
to make terms this danger would be
averted. She would lose her control of
the Dardanelles, but she would be in a
position to demand recognition of her
claims to a place on the map of Europe.
But R Turkey sued for a separate peace
she would have to be assured that in the
event of a movement on the part of Ger
many to punish her for her withdrawal
the allies would come to her support. This
would be a bitter pill. In order to Induce
the allies to swallow It she would un
doubtedly have to make sweeping conces
sions. The allies would also hesitate to
enter Into an agreement which might tend
to prolong the war. If It becomes evi
dent to the Turks that there Is likely to
be a victory for the allies they will either
have to desert Germany immediately or
submit to conditions which will ultimate
ly drive them to a new home In Asia.
And. In the event of a victory for Ger
many, what assurance have the Turks
that Germany will he able to secure
peace terms which wifi leave her free t<
show her gratitude to Turkey by protect
ing her from numereus unfriendly rivals'
Thus, though the war has brought Tur
key forward to a remarkable degree, 11
has also placed her In a position where
she may have to surrender all that she
has gafhed In an effort to save hersell
from national disruption.
Oregon has over 100 women physi
cians.
Though she’s past 80 years of age.
Lady Katharine Coke, daughter of the
second Earl Wilton, still attends oc
Queen Mary.
The second vice president of the Flor
ida State Medical association Is Dr,
Mary Freeman, a very smart and cap
able woman.
In Russia the maiden who Is free may
dress her hair as she wishes, but not
so with the wife, who must hide her
hair.
The French government allows the
wife or woman dependent of a soldier
25 cents a day, plus 6 cents a day for
each child.
The Duchess of Connaught, wife of
the governor general of Canada, is a
Hohenzollem princess and first cousin
of the kaiser.
Mrs. Lillian Mitchner, the Kansas
temperance advocate, has announced
her candidacy for the United States
Senate from that state.
Miss Gertrude Corby, of London, Is
said to be the first domestic servant
who has written a volume of poems
that have, been published. ’
The aggregate cost of separation al
lowances paid to wives and children of
English soldiers and sailors has been
to date *125,000,000. v
Sister Mary Proxedes will pass the ■
rest of her life at Molokai, Hawaiian
Islands, where she nurses the lepers,
who have a colony there.
Miss Anne Vauclain, daughter of ths
head of the Baldwin Locomotive works,
has Just purchased the champion Eng
lish stallion Fire Boy for a price said
to be *5,000.
Dr. Louise Taylor Jones, of Wash
ington. D. C„ and Dr. Catherine H.
Travis, of New Britain, Conn., ha vs
sailed for Serbia, where they will es
tablish a baby hospital.
Dr. Lucy L. W. Wilson, wife of Dr.
William P. Wilson, director of ths
commercial museums In Philadelphia,
has gone to Mexico, where she wilt
trace the Indians' ancestors to ths
stuns age.
