6 B
THE OMAHA SUNDAY BEE: AUGUST
5,
1917.
"The Neglected We"J
(Novelised from the Path Serial of tha Same Name, Bated on
Famous Not1 of Mabel Herbert Urner.)
By JOSEPH
fnVuMntissi.f i
CHAPTER XII.
"Embittered Love."
The Story.
The Man Honca Kennedy
The Wlfa Mary Kennedy
"The Woman Alone" Margaret Warner
Kennedy, though striving to be loyal to
his wife, la In love with Margaret. Dis
covering her husband's secret, Mary deter
mines t win him bark. Kennedy's political
enemiea steal from Margaret hla compro
mising letters. To recover them Margaret
appeals to Norwood, who loves her.
"You will stay until I can send a
nurse" the doctor, replacing the
gleaming hypodermic, turned from the
bed.
"I'll be glad to," faltered Margaret,
her voice emotionally tense.
Under the opiate Norwood was
sleeping quietly. Drawing a low chair
to the bed, gently she touched his
gaMiuaauwjL'aJ'j vm
oai
NORWOOD RECOVERS CONSCIOUSNESS AND REALIZES THAT
. MARGARET IS CALLING KENNEDY.
bandaged arm the price he had paid
for her letters.
Even now in the security of his
apartment her heart beat fast as she
relived that terrifying scene from
the moment he broke into the room,
snatched the letters, facing an unequal
struggle with the three ruffians, until
her outcry brought help.
And now as she sat alone by the
bed there was something appealing
in his unconsciousness, in the help
lessness of his bandaged arm.
Why had the fates ordained that
she could not care for this man who
loved her so unselfishly? He was
free, he ,had everything to give her
4he protection and security of his
name. Yet her love was given to
one who was already bound but
whose slightest caress thrilled her
more than any proof of Norwood's
unselfish devotion.
Her glance rested on the telephone
by the bed the magic instrument tlfat
to her seemed always to mean Ken
nedy. Dare she call him up now
.about the letters? Noiselessly she
took" down the receiver.
"Plaza 8245." in a cautious under
tone, fearing to arouse Norwood.
"Hello! Are you alone?" in the
same cautious whisper. "Oh, I've
something wonderful to tell you I
have the letters! No, I can't talk now
I'm not at home. I only wanted you
to know." .
She broke off suddenly at a slight
motion from the bed. Turning, she
found Norwood watching her keenly.
"Oh, I I'm glad you're awake," in
flushing confusion. "I'm staying tin
til the nurse comes. Does your arm
pain you?"
He shook his head, gazing at her
with disconcerting steadiness.
"Oh, I I can never thank, you I
But if you knew what those letters
meant to me?' her voice broke.
, "I think I know now." bitterly. "I
heard you telephone. They were Hor
ace Kennedy's love letters I"
The scorching color in her averted
face was Margaret's only answer.
. "What does he mean to you, Mar
garet? I'd hoped that it was only an
infatuation. Is it something more?"
1 Her bowed silence was a poignant
admission. .
"So they stole these letters and
were going to publish theui to queer
his campaign? It was to save him
that you risked so much to get them
back? And he was cowardly enough
to let you take the risk?"
"Oh, j oil mustn't blame him I It
was as much my fault as his. I loved
Win," recklessly. "I've loved him
from the beginning."
"A man who is married? Who has
nothing to offer you but dishonor?"
Abruptly the door opened and the
doctor entered, followed by a nunc,
whse white uniform showed tinder
her Jorg dark c'.ok.
A tew moments later Margaret went
slowly downstairs, turning homeward,
with a dull heavy ache at. her henrt.
Kvrn the thought of the recove-ed
letters now safe in her handbag did
not lighten the lovf.
She was thinking of Norwood, of
his clean love thai she could never
return. '
Early one morning a week later
Kennedy entered his private office and
with frowning concentration settled
lown before his desk.
. The increasing perplexity of his pri
vate life, the demands of the campaign
and his practice all contributed to
rasping still . further his overtaut
nerves.
Glancing through the mail, with a
start he took up a email gray en
velope. Margaret's v.itingl Even
before he opened it he had an omi
nous presentment that something was
wrong.
I am going awajr now, before tha elec
tion before our love compromtees your ca
reer. Do not try to find me It will only
make It harder for ua both. Ml must
eek forgetfulness In work. Wherever I
am I ahall watch your success. Tou must
not disappoint me. Remember I am giv
ing to up to your career."
Snatching up his desk telephone,
with strained intentness Kennedy
called Margaret's apartment. The
drawling voice of the hall boy in
formed him that Miss Warner had
gone that she had left no address.
As dazed, baffled, he hung back the
receiver, the door swung open and
hit clerk entered from the outer of
fice. .
"Car's waiting, Mr. Kennedy. You're
due at Blue Island at 2:30."
To make a public address with his
teart torn over Margaret's disappear
ance, seemed at that moment a physi
cal impossibility. The n came the
though of her plea, "you must not
disappoint me.
Mru . I... ,- L . I
.When a tew moments later he en-
DUNN.
I U tit I hi it 1 t.1 itif irHfH
tered his car, waiting before the of
fice building, to his amazement Mary
was there.
"I thought I'd go with you just
for the trip."
"I'm afraid it won't be much of a
trip," with cold withdrawal.
' Then I'll go to the landing," hurt
at his unresponsiveness.
As the car sped on, while Kennedy
gazed out of the window, wistfully
she studied his profile. It was set in
the stern lines which were growing
habitual of late.
Of what was he thinking? It was
not of his speech, though he had
taken out some typewritten notes.
Was it Margaret Warner?
"Horace," her gloved hand stole
into his, but his fingers did not close
over them. "Dear, after the election
couldn't we go away for a few weeks,
just for a little rest and vacation?
"Vacation?" grimly. "It'll be
months to catch up with my work."
"But, dear, I'm not well I haven't
been for weeks. I'm afraid I'll break
down if we don't get away soon."
"Well, there's nothing to keep you
go whenever you wish."
Her lips quivered as she withdrew
her hand. The car was slowing up
at the landing and there was no time
for further discussion.
"You'll be home for dinner?" plead
ingly, as he leaped out.
"If I can," curtly, and raising his
hat he strode down to the waiting'mo
torboat without a backward glance.
There were several other launches
and a group of men a party of the
politcians going over to the meeting.
Apparently he was late, for with an
assertive snorting of the motors they
promptly swung off.
Mary was about to give the order
to drive on when she saw another
launch coming swiftly down the river.
It held three men their hats low over
their eyes. There was something sin
ister in their crouching attitude.
How recklessly they were running!
They were making straight for Ken
nedy's boat bearing down on his
lighter craft with perilous speed.
Her heart stood still. A collision
was inevitable! With a cry she sprang
from the car.
The next moment there came over
the wa(er, with terrific distinctness, a
rending, splintering crash 1
(To Be Continued.)
(Copyright, 1117, by Mabel Herbert Urner.)
Viscount Bryce Commends
Work of American Y. M. C. A.
Correspondence of Tha Associated Frees.)
London, Aug. 1. Viscount Bryce,
former , British embassador to the
United States, has written a letter
to E. C. Carter; secretary for France
and England of the Young Men's
Christian association, commending
the work of that organization among
the soldiers of the entcnt allies and
suggesting that the American associa
tion will be able to render the great
est possible service to the American
expeditionary forces.
Arrangements for the work of the
American organization are well under
way both in prance and in England,
but definite and possilive plans will
not be completed until more is known
of the strength of the American
forces, where they will be located and
when they will arrive. Meanwhile, the
Young Men's Christian association is
doing everything possible to provide
for comfort and entertainment of
those American sailors and soldiers
who already are in Europe.
"I can truly ,say," Viscount Bryce
writes in his letter, "that I have heard
from every quarter, including many
navat military authorities, the warm
est acknowledgment of the excellent
work done by the Young Men's Chris
tian association during these three
terrible years of war, for the British,
Canadian and Australian soldiers both
in camps here and at home and among
the troops on the various fighting
fronts. Many plans have been devised,
many methods successfully employed,
to provide for their benefit comforts,
recreation, literature of the right sorts
and many other wholesome influences.
"I believe that the American asso
ciation, which will have the advantage
of our experience, which will be work
ed with true American energy, and
which may command even larger
funds than we had, may render the
greatest possible services in France
to those American soldiers who Brit
ain and France rejoice to welcome as
their allies in this fight for freedom
and right." '
Soft Ilnta Are the Thing.
Where are all tha derby hata of yester
day T Why do only a lew men wear them
any more?
Blame It on the seductive 10ft hat. Blame
It on motor rare, which do not agree with
derblea or high hata. A man under a derby
In a motor car going mora than three mllea
an hour looks .as Incongruous aa a derby
wearer, coat oft and a cigar between his
teeth, paddling a canoa.
Blame It on the war. This may eound
flippant, but It lan't. The war has done
a great deal to popularise the soft hat. Look
Into 'he wlndowa showing summer styles
far men and note the military llnea and
nimea Nets the wide .brims, the absence
of conspicuous bands, the trim touch
that auggeata training and discipline,
"The soft hat baa paased through many
freak styles and experiments," said a haber
dasher. "Us comfort Is Its first quality. It
conforms easily to the head, Is light In
weight, and Isn't badly hurt If It happens to
eirppra or aat on or run over in toe
street" Providence Journal
oe
1"
The Omaha Bee's
WHEN Grandma was a girl! Is there any period in history half so
fascinating as the few brief years that constitute Grandmother's girl
hood? The whirr of Greek javelins, the tramp of gilded Roman le
gions, the clang of Arthur's battle-ax, the dip of Norse oars in silent
midnight seas fade into ghostly unreality as we listen to the intimate, throb
bing personal accounts of the old-fashioned little girl of three-quarters of a
century ago.
Fancy a little curly-headed child riding on her grandmother's back as
she picked her way across the slippery stepping-stones of the swift stream
that ran past Grandfather's farm!
Picture a tiny child in printed calico, with a bit of a sky-blue parasol,
perched in her little cushioned chair, riding fourteen miles in a rattling big
wagon, going for wheat.
Or did you ever hear of the time the same little girl with her father and
mother tried to ford the wide river, and the freshet had swollen the stream,
and the great horses swam in the water, and the wagon became uncoupled,
and the water rushed in, and the current carried the little girl's pet dog,
Tippy, far, far down stream? Then they landed, frightened and wet, on the
opposite bank and had to stay at their uncle's house for days and days until
the stream fell.
The little girl mourned for her little Tippy as lost, but when they finally
returned home one beautiful sunny morning, who should come barking and
jumping down the lane but that very same Tippy, wiggling all over with joy
at seeing his little mistress.
Many grandmothers and grandfathers can relate tales of fights with war
crazed Indians, or stories of the thrilling civil, war days. Happy is the child
who can hear of the strange long-ago days when the dear grandparent was a
child like himself.
What stories have your grandparents told you, Busy Bees? They would
make interesting letters for the other children to read so let us have them.
Once a man wrote a whole book full of the stories that clustered around
a single article of furniture. Hawthorne found Grandfather's Chair breath
ing of deeds and heroes of our own revolution and he called his book by that
name.
In response to numerous inquiries, the Busy Bee editor announces the
next election of a Busy Bee King and Queen will take place the first Sunday
in September. Votes for the new rulers will be received until the last
Wednesday of this month.
The editor received a very interesting letter from one of the Elk Creek,
Neb., Busy Bees who neglected to place her name on the letter. The story
is about her pets, Bowser and Buster, and the writer states she is 12 years
old, in the sixth grade and would like to be on the Red side. As soon as the
name is received the letter will be published.
Gladys Paustian, a Busy Bee who lives in Ballantine, Mont., receives the
prize book this week. Gladys is on the Blue side. Marie Poulsen and How
ard Anderson of the Red side won honorable mention.
Little Stories By Little Folks
(Prize Story.)
Viewing the Circufe.
By Gladys Pastian, Aged 11 Years,
Ballantine, Mont. Blue Side.
"Look, there comes Uncle Sam, fol
lowed by his soldiers, and from that
side comes the cowboys and cowgirls
riding as fast as they can. The last
one fell off!"
"Is he hurt?"
"No, he has gotten up and is run
ning after his horse, but he cannot
catch it because it can run faster than
he "
"Just look at that big man. He has
three legs."
"Why, here comes a red donkeyl
What is that man doing? Why he is
sawing the donkey into halves. Look,
his front legs are taking half of his
body one way and his back legs are
taking the other half th eother way."
"That rabbit does not hop, it walks.
No, it is not a rabbit, but a white
dog with paper ears fastened on its
head that looks like rabbit's ears."
"lust see how nicely that horse
dances!" . .
"What i that over there? Oh. it is
a duck pulling a little red wagon with
a pig m it. Uver there are twenty
little Shetland ponies pulling the
queen in her beautiful chariot. Yes,
that is the end. Now we will go
home."
(Honorable Mention.)
Helen's Kindness.
By Marie K. Poulsen, Aged 13 Years,
Route 4, Blair, Neb, Red Side,
fine n1fas.-int rlav in Mav. Helen
and jack came running in to ask their
mother if they could go flower pick
ing Their mother said. "Yesl" In a
short while they were ready.
When they reached tne meaaow
they began to gather the flowers.
Qnnn l-Tolen riearrl a nnise close bV.
wvv . .
She looked in the grass and to her
surprise there was a little wren mat
had fallen out of its nest. It was not
old enough to fly. Helen began to
search for its nest, but without suc
cess. Thn b took lhe little wren and
went over to where Jack was picking
Howers, to show it to mm.
oniric ti take it home with me."
care of it." But Helen said, "I am
goining to take it home with me."
When Helen reached homejshe fed
it some bread crumbs.
In three weeks it was old enough
to fly, so she turned it loose. Every
day the little wren would come to
Helen for something to eat.
(Honorable Mention.)
True Bee Story.
By Howard Anderson, Aged 10 Years.
2408 South Sixteenth Street.
One night a big storm came. In
the morning we went up in our back
yard and in our peach tree we saw a
swarm ot bees. Ihey were buzzing
and making a big noise.
My uncle put a mosquito net over
him and shook the limb and the
bees fell in the box. We were going
to buy a regular bee hive, but another
storm came and blew them away. We
thought we were going to have a lot
of honey.
Work for Red Cross.
By Mary Palmer, Aged 12 Years,
Columbus, Neb. Blue Side.
I am in a club of about fifteen. We
are working for the Red Cross. Sat
urday we had a sale and. made about
$14 or $15. We expect to have a
popcorn and lemonade stand rriday
night at the band concert. We are
knitting wash rags for the soldiers
also. We meet every Wednesday. At
our sale we sold flowers also. Some
would give us money and tell us to
sell the flowers. There was a man
that told me to give it to some old
woman or little girl and then he gave
me 10 cents. We had cakes, candy,
bread, cookies and eggs.
This is the second letter I have
written. I will write again some time.
Peter Rabbit Story.
By Inez Cross, Trenton, Neb. Blue
Side.
As I saw my other letter in print,
I will finish my Peter Rabbit story.
When Peter went to take a bite of
parsley Mr. McGregor saw Peter and
took after him with nis rake, calling
out, "Stop, thief 1" Peter was so fright
ened that he couldn't find the place
, . . ? II. 1 I 1l
wnere ne gor. in. nc rusncu an over
the garden sets. He got hung up in
a gooseberry net, where he gave up
ana began to cry, when some birds
flew to him and began to talk to him.
Finally he squirmed out just in
time, leaving his jacket behind him.
He had already lost one ot his shoes.
Then he hid in a flower pot in the
tool shed. After a while he got out
and hopped over where a wheelbar
row was and climbed up in it and
looked over and saw Mr. McGregor
at work and just beyond him was the
gate, so he got down quietly and ran
as fast as he could, but very quietly,
Rules for Young
Writers
1. Write plainly on one side of the
paper only and number the pages,
i. I so pen and Ink, not pencil.
3. Short and pointed articles will be
riven preference. lu not use over 250
words.
4. Original stories or letters only will
be used.
5. Write your name, age and address
at the top of the first page.
A price book will be given each week
for the beat contribution.
Address all communication to Chil
dren's Department, Omaha Dee, Omaha,
Neb.
YOUNGEST WORKER IN RED
CROSS ROOMS.
ZEA7VOR SMTrf-f
Golden-haired Eleanor Smith,
daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Floyd
Smith, is the bit of sunshine brighten
ing the Red Cross work rooms in the
Baird building several mornings each
week. Little Eleanor accompanies
her grandmother, Mrs. Charles Shiv
erick, to Red Cross headquarters to
help make hospital supplies for the
soldier and sailor boys.
Touched by the interest evinced by
the 10-year-old, the women in charge
direct Eleanor to pulling miles of
basting threads and folding dozens of
towels.
Does Eleanor shirk? Not one bit.
Older women noint to the neat rilr
of her work with great pride.
When she reaches home again, in
stead of rlaying with her dolls, as
most little eirls of her arc wmiM An
Eleanor picks up her knitting, per-
naps a inumer or a wristlet, to bring
comfort to some. sailor boy.
Its a solenditl war-time namnlf
Eleanor is settingl
and never stopped to look behind
him till he got safe at home. It was
the second pair of shoes and littlp
jacket he had lost in the fortnight.
riopsey fliopsey and Cotton Tail had
blackberries for supper.
Peter was put to bed and made
some camomile tea, one tablespoonful
to De taken at bed time.
How I Was Fooled.
By Florence Seward. Aged 11 Years.
10.H v ictor Avenue, Omaha.
Jilue Side.
This happened four years ago when
I was in the second grade. One day
my teacher asked me to stay and help
her. Of course I said, "Yes." I was
busy erasing the boards when my
teacher slipped a package into the
waste basket. I thought it was some
toy a child had brought to school and
she had thrown it in the basket,
wrapped up. So I thought I would
get it. I tried several times, but
failed.
Finally the coveted time came; my
teacher went out to wash her hands.
As soon as she had gone out I slipped
up to the basket, reached in and got
the package. Soon Miss Williams
said, "Come, Florence, it is time to
go home." I ran in the cloakroom
and got my coat and hat I hid the
bundle under my coat. When we
got to the end of the walk she started
talking to me. I was glad when she
stopped. Then I said,, "Good night,
Miss Williams." Away I ran home.
When i got home everybody had
gone away, so I went into the kitchen
and closed the door. Then I care
fully untied the knot and threw aside
the brown paper wrappings. There
(to my amazment), instead of a toy
of nolished wood or snme randv. wa
X A l oT
Sr a v. v e. ftr
St.v
: W .
r
a lot of egg shells from my teacher's
Busy Little Honey-Makers
SPONSOR FOR NEW LAUNCH
AT LAKE MANAWA.
MISS JANICE PALM.
A new motor launch of large capac
ity, the fifth in the fleet at Lake Man
awa, was launched under the direc
tion of Manager Carl I. Palm of Man
awa park yesterday. Pretty little Miss
Janice Palm, S-year-old daughter of
Mr. and Mrs. C. I. Palm, after whom
the craft is named, broke a bottle of
mineral water on the boat's prow as
it slipped toward the water of the
lake. The "Janice" is a speedy craft,
equipped with the latest machinery
and with the best conveniences for
passengers. It will be used in the
service of carrying people to and
from the bathing beach.
dinner! I never picked anything out
of the basket after that. This had
taught me a lesson.
Little Red Riding Hood.
By Odelia Naiman. Aged 12 Years.
R. F. D. 1, Box 2. Gilead,
Neb. Red Side.
There was once a mother who had
a little girl. The little girl's name
was Red Riding Hood. She had
red coat and hood and that is how
she got her name. One day her
mother said, "Come, little girl, to the
house." Her mother had baked a
cake and some cookies.
"Now, little girl, take this basket to
your grandmother. She is sick and
needs something to eat."
The little girl took the basket and
started off. When she came to the
woods a wolf came out and said,
"Good mbrning, little Red Riding
Hood."
"Good morning, Mr. Wolf."
"Where are you going?"
"I am going to my grandmother.
She is sick in bed.
"Where does your grandmother
live? he asked.
"Can you see that little red house
over there?"
"Yes," said the wolf. "Good-bye,
little girl?'
When Red Riding Hood came to
the house she knocked. No answer
came, so she knocked again. Then
she heard a voice say, "Lift up the
latch."
So she lifted up the t latch and
came in.
When she got tc the bed she said,
"Good morning, grandmother. What
big ears you have."
"Yes, my dear. The better to hear
you."
"What big hands you have."
"Yes, the better to hug you."
"What big eyes you have."
"Yes, the better to see you."
"What great big teeth you have."
"Yes, the better to eat you up
with."
Then the wolf iumoed out of bed
and ran after little Red Riding Hood.
Just then the woodchoppers heard
her screaming and came with their
axes, lhe grandmother came, too.
Little Red Riding Hood's mother
did not understand and her grand
mother had not been sick.
The woodchoooers killed the wolf
with their axes and little Red Riding
Hood was safe.
I wish some of the Busy Bees
would write to me. I would answer
their letters.
A Hard Lesson.
By'Katherine Fyack, Aged 9 Years,
1102 South Thirty-second Street.
Red Side.
I am going to tell you of two apple
trees. One was sour and one was
sweet. These two apple trees grew
in a little girl's back yard.
"Don't pick my apples until they
are ripe." said the sour apple tree.
The children ran away for a while
to play croquet. After a little they
came back and started to get some
off the sweet apple tree. She, too,
said: "Don't pick my apples."
The children said, "You have got
lo!s more apples on your tree."
The children picked some apples
off both trees. Then they ate all they
picked.
The next day they were very sick.
They learned a lesson that they will
not soon forget.
I am in the fourth grade at school.
I wish some of the boys and girls
would write to me.
An Automobile Accident.
By Hans Schmidt, Aged 9 Years,
Treynor, la. Red Side.
This is the second time I have writ
ten to this happy page and I love to
read the stories. 1 have two pet rab
bits. They are white with pink eyes.
Now I will tell you about our automo
bile accident.
Once we went to see my uncle and
aunt, ten miles north from our place.
When we came back in the evening
papa turned a corner and ran against
the bank. I was sitting in front and
I fell against the windshield and broke
it. Mamma flew out on the bank with
my little sister in her arms, but did
not get hurt. I cut my face a little.
This is a true story.
Robin Builds Nest.
By John Hayducheck, Aged 11 -Years,
2638 Y Street, South Side Oma
ha. Red Side.
One day in March while I was car
ying milk I saw a robin , making a
nest, but it did not have a mate. In
a few weeks it had eggs. The children
found out where the nest was. Some
one stole the eggs and one of my
friends found one. The next year the
same robin lived there and I think
they hatched. I think they like the
place, for the nest is there now, too.
A Fall in the Creek.
Hazel Brockens. Talmage, Neb., R. 1.
Age 14.
One day one of my friends fell
in th trcck. We have a swing which
it t
&ttumtt'
Qilthdai0ook
Six Years Old Tomorrow (Aug. 6)
Name. School.
Cross, Julia K St. Agnes
Horwich, Harriet Garheld
Leonard, Zelpha Joan Train
Lowry, Juanita Helen.. Druid Hill
Scogin, Harry Andrew Park
blama, W i!ma Alice Mason
Warner, Alma Glee Windsor
Seven Years Old Tomorrow:
Arenell, Mollie Walnut Hill
Becker, Berthold. .Edw. Rosewater
Budd, Wesley Mason
Eeman, Margaret So. Franklin
Feldman, Pearl Long
Gates, Georgie Vinton
Lind, Carl Hawthorne
Mancuso, Pete Mason
Mullin, Barbara A.... Clifton Hill
Pullman, Helen ...Columbian
Eight Years Old Tomorrow:
Finnnerty, Katherine M. .Miller Pk.
Hansen, George C Park
Howe, Helen F Garfield
Hughes, Virginia G.. Central Park
Irwin, Vernon West Side
Kauft'old, Samuel Central
Kocorek, Bessie Train
Lambert, Hoyt Train
Lanning, Theodore. .Monmouth Pk.
Nelson, Vivian Dagmar. . .Saunders
Seatedt, Viola Saunders
Taylor, Marguerite Lake
Wenger, Kenneth, Carl. . . .Lothrop
Nine Years Old Tomorrow:
Castaglia, Alfio Kellom
Harte, Virginia Dundee
Holt, James Walter ....Park
Miller, Rachel Kellom
Newcomb, Geraldine Bancroft
Newstrom, Charles Long
Shandy, James R. D Vinton
swings over the creek. Two of my
friends were swinging together. They
were Dora Snyder and Jessie Stod
dard. Jessie was swinging high and let
go when she was in the middle of the
creek. We were all frightened, but
soon started to laugh at her. She did
not care at all. She came up the bank
all wet.
First she did not like to go to the
house. When she got home she said
that she wished that she had fallen in
again. Dora has a cameca and wished
she had it so she sould of taken her
picture. This is a true story. This is
my second story that I have written.
I like to write true stories.
Receives Prize Book.
By Lucille Renner, Aged 12 Years,
Helvey, Neb. Blue Side.
This is the 27rfi day of July and I
received my book last evening.
The name of the book is "Strange
Stories of the Great Valley."
The story is about a pioneer boy in
the early part of the last century.
Winning the War in the
Air Job for Americans
One of the foremost European
strategists prophesied more than a
year ago that this war would be won
either in the air or under the sea.
Events are moving rapidly toward
the fulfillment of that prophecy. Need
less to say, if the war is won under
the sea, the victor will be Germany.
That is the measure of importance
military experts attach to the Ameri
can government's far-reaching plans,
involving the expenditure of hun
dreds of millions of dollars for the
development of a great armada of
airplanes. Every month the war con
tinues, the more important suprem
acy in the air becomes. The modern
military airplane has devolped an en
tirely new technique of artillery con
trol and observation. The battle
plane has become a formidable offen
sive weapon. Both size and speed
have enormously increased. Airplanes
now successfully engage infantry,
sweeping Jow over ground, pounnp;
down a demoralizing fire of machine
guns and bombs. The British fliers
in the recent big offensive near Ypres
attacked the German reserves as they
came up, and badly disorganized the
support of the front line troops. Now
adays, the army that loses control ot
the air is fighting blind. It must face
artillery fire that is guided with
deadly accuracy. Its own guns are
harassed from the air and fire wildly
at uncertain ranges. The com
mander who controls the air is able
to concentrate his troops, unobserved,
for an overwhelming offensive at the
chosen point. The commander who
loses control of the air also loses the
initiative and that accurate knowl
edge of hostile troops concentrations
upon which all successful strategy
is based- That is why military ex
perts believe that the surest and
quickest way to win this war is to
win the control of the air. Leslie's.
A Beat Curiosity.
The showman was exhibiting a very
small skull, which he said was the head
piece of the great Oliver Cromwell.
"This skull la much too small to be the
skull of a man," said one patron, Indig
nantly. "It can only be the skull of a little
boy. Tou re a fraud:'
The showman did not lose his nerve at
this, but replied with dignity:
Tou are right It Is not the skull ot a
msn, but that or Cromwell wnen ne was
a small lad. isew rora uiooe.
1 I
E i
Best results at lc per word. I
More and more people each I
1 day are discovering that they J
can save money and get the I
Best Results by phoning
I Tyler 1000
1 Between 8 A. M. and 10 P. M. 1
You are as close to
THE BEE WANT AD DEPT.
as your phone is to you
I am much pleased with the book and
wish to give you many thanks. Won't
you Busy Bees write to me?
Water for Birds.
By Ardis York, Aged 12 Years, Mill
den, Neb. Blue Side.
My sister and I have four pans of
water out in the yard. There are a
good many different kinds of birds
that come to bathe and drink every
day.
I like to read the Busy Bee page
every Sunday. I would like to join the
Blue side.
Write to mc, Busy Bees.
A Very Little Busy Bee.
By Evelyn Naiman. Aged 5 Years.
R. F. D. 1, Box 2, Gilead,
Neb. Red Side.
I am a new Busy Bee. I have four
sisters and four brothers. I have not
gone to school yet, but I think I will
this fall. Are there any more Busy
Bees as young as I am?
I have fourteen young chickens.
They just hatched yesterday.
Writes a Patriotic Verse.
By Dorothy Rose, Aged 14 Years,
Elmwood, Neb. Red Side.
Uncle Sam has determination in. his
face,
He is backed by the people of an hon
est race,
Who are willing to fight for the land
of the free
And the rights they shpuld have upon
the sea.
A certain Bill Schmidt had a flag dis
play, But along came a cop and put a stop
To the German flag display,
And now he's interned for many a
day.
Some people say how Wilson f
wrong,
And how they like, the kaiser,
But they all came here with abort
5 cents,
And they've made their pile of Amr
can wealth,
They still stick up for the kaiser.
Our Street.
By Alix Thorn in June St. Nicholas.
The nicest people come along our street;
The postman Is a gen'rous man, I know;
Because he brings us things 'most everyday.
And never seems to mind the rain or
snow.
The milkman drives a black and splendid
horse;
He says, he's often 'frald she'll run awry.
But, 'course he understands her, and he'll
wait
Without a hitching any time of day.
The baker's boy has such a pleasant facet
He owns a fuzzy dog that broke Its leg!
And while I hold his bundles carefully
He tells that little dog to sit and beg.
I rode one morning with the doughnut man
'Way down the block; I'm sure he didn't
mind.
I think that one who sells sueh lovely cakes
Must have a heart that's very good and
kind.
If I should move, I'd miss 'em, every one.
These really, truly friends I like to meet:
I'm 6, and I have known them all my life;
The nicest people come along our streetl
Two Concerts to Be
Given at Manawa Today
Following is the pragram of two
concerts to be given by Green's band
at Manawa park this afternoon and
evening:
IP. it
March Hall to the Spirit of Liberty..
Souea
Overture Zampa (The Marble Bride)..
Herold
Valse The Velvet of the Rose.... Barnard
"Morceau Shadow Land" Gilbert
Two popular numbers, "Goodbye Broad
way; Hello Francs" and "Mother
Dixie and Tou" Feist
Selection from the opera, "The Only
Girl" Herbert
Patrlotlo Patrol Spirit American....
Zamecnlk
Overture on Slavonic Melodies (new)..
Grey
Medley Selection Plantation Melodies..
Conterno
7 P. M.
March The Man Behind the Gun....Sousa
Medley Selection Liberty Songs 18A..
Remlck
'The Pilgrim's Song of Hope" Batiste
Overture Joan of Arc ...Sodermann
Valse My Dream . . .Waldterlfel
A Caprice The Golden Gate. . . .Wellesley
Fantasia on themes from light opera..
Hosmer
Selection from Opera Tannhauser.. Wagner
Cornet Solo The Lost Chord Sullivan
By Dr. A. D. Laird.
Grand Fantasia on American Melodies
Lamps
m
