The Bismarck Tribune Newspaper, July 14, 1917, Page 4

cea ‘OUR ) , THE TRIBUNE Entered at the Postoffice, Bismarck, D., as Second Class Matt: ISSUED PVERY DAY EXCE- I 3U) SUBSCRIPTION RATES PAYABLE IN ADVANC ‘BE or. carrier, Daily, by mail r mime : y. . § 50 Dek ta 4.00 Dally, three months . seone 1,25 Daily, by mail outside of North Dakota, one year ..... 6.00 Daily, by mail outside ‘of North Dakota, three months . ‘Weekly, by mail, per year. G. LOGAN PAYNE COMPANY Spectal Foreign Representative ‘ORK, Fifth Ave. Bldg.; CHICAGO, NaN, wants Bldg.; BOSTON, 8 Winter St. DETROIT, Kresge Bldg.; MINNE- S, 810 Lumber Exchange. Member Audit Bureau of Circulation HE STATE'S OLDEST NEWSPAPER rae (Established 1872) 1.50 1.50 ‘< == ——— WEATHER REPORT for 24 hours ending at noon July 14: Temperature at 7 a. m. 59 Temperature at noon Highest yesterday Lowest yesterday ... Precipitation Highest wind velocity. eS Forecast for North Dakota: Generally fair to- night and Sunday; not much change in temperature; Monday probably fair. Lowest Temperatures 54 Fargo .. Williston . 54 Grand Forks . By Pierre ... 60. St. Paul 58 ‘Winnipeg 52 Helena . 60 Chicago . . 62 Swift Current . . 48 Kansas City . 4 64 San Francisco . . 52 ORRIS W. ROBERTS, : Meteorogolist Se ee eee sons hava courage *& to appe: s good as they real- & ly are.—Hare. ° eee eee ee eo oe o% Few p POP Oe COMMANDER OF THE AIR. The Germans are counting upon two factors to win this war. They see a France bled white because it can put no more men into the trench- es and they see the Allies starved into submission by the submarine. It becomes increasingly our job to administer the final blow to German hopes. The problem is how best and quickest to do so. We are proposing to help France ‘by’ sending troops and to help all the allies by sending food. But that means ships to circumvent the sub- marine campaign and it takes: time to build ships. In this war, at present, time is working in favor of the Germans. The longer it tdkes us to produce ships, the longer it takes us to send over men and munitions and food, and the more ‘time there is for the submarine to finish the war against us. The aviation authorities of the United States, Great Britain and France seem to agree that the man- ner in which we can bring our wealth, our manufacturing capacity, our man-power and our will to help, to the point where it will be most immediately effective, is to build a vast number of airplanes. This can be done quickly. The men to operate them can be easily secured and trained in a short time. The shipping needed for their transportation to Europe is consider- ably less than that, required for any other military foree ‘of Ae: effective- ness., ‘ Ss Once landed. on, French’ soil our air navies could take up the triple task of driving the Germans out of the air, blinding their artillery and bombing their railroads and bridges clear back to the Khine and beyond. A German army which could not see the enemy's surprise movements, could not regulate its artillery or bring up reserves, which was cut off from retreat back over tha Rhine, would quickly be an army subject to panic fears, to impairment of morale. It would be an army subject to smashing offensives without knowing how adequately to respond. It would ‘be faced by famine. Its guns might soon be silenced for lack of shells. Quick victory for the allied cause can come only from command of the air. We can give that command if the administration, congress and the airplane makers will get together up- on a common platform and strike now with the full force of American energy and inventive genius. MOVED NORTH. The “negro question” is no longer wholly one of the South, but has moved into the North. Conditions which caused the riots at East St. Louis are bound to arise in many cit- jes north of Mason and Dixon's line. Cincinnati reports some 15,000 ne- gro arrivals, in the last few months, and such cities as Cleveland and De- troit have from 5,000 to 7,000. The southern negro has been “edu- cated" to go where prosperity fs thickest. In northern cities he is crowded into sections that are the very worst, morally and from a san- itary standpoint. And the white man will not stand for losing his job to the ‘cheap nigger.” How is this northern negro ques- tion going to be settled? aAMEetH .|and the beginning of alf things, hark- A SOLDIER'S PRAYER, 0, Thou who knoweth both the end en unto the plea of Thy son who is chosen to battle for all that is holy and inspiring to humanity! Unto Thy keeping is commended all that is mine of youth, of hope, of love, of life, as offering for that peace and fraternity among men for which Thy Holy Son was crucified: Make steadfast my courage. Strengthen my inspiration. Glorify me with the faith in Thy goodness that moveth mountains and triumphs o’er the King of Terrors at his worst. Help me, O Captain of the divine hosts! to kecp unsullied ‘by hate or mad blood lust the sword I raise against my erring, misled, maddened brother-man. Make all my blows true blows for truth and right. ‘Mercy, Supreme Judge of All, for him I slay! Pity and love for his wife, his child, his mother, as, dying by his hand, I would ask Thy love and pity for mine own dear ones. O Thou who notes the sparrow’s O note me, should I fall! the Send to me then, above scream of shell and roaring hort of the fight, the glorious promise Christ has given. Be Thou with me in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and I will fear no evil. Thy rod and Thy staff shall comfort me for all that I must lay aside. Arm my soul with Thy justice and mercy. Gird me up with that faith in The Father which endureth firm and full, come what may! J am ready. In the name of Him who suffered all, gave all and sitteth at Thy r/ght hand. fall! THE GODDESS OF LIBERTY. In America it has been, significant- ly, the Goddess of Liberty, and not the god, who has been trying to en- lighten the world by pointing a torch of light into the sky. The woman of the hour in war work gives this feminine gender of liberty a new meaning and validity. Molly Pitcher served a gun in the American Revolution against autoc- racy. Now the American woman is serving the guns in the world revo- lution against autocracy. She is making bread bullets, and bullets of lead and. steel. In muni- tions factories shé makes guns, in irtiplement factories, hoes;'‘and she uses, at least,the latter. |. Did the light from the torch of the Goddess of Liberty beacon freedom to the world? The light of the new goddesses, from forge as well as from hearthstone, keeps this beacon alight. No less truly than the Russian woman's regiment, the women of Am- erica are regimented into a force that will do woman's half in winning the war, in addition to beitig as ever the angels of mercy of war. ‘ & oF eae »Muzzling of the German''press in- dicates the katser disagrees with Lord Northcliffe’s idea that it's “im- portant for the natio nto know the worst.” General Pershing decides upon “Samm” as the “official” name of the American soldier in Europe |All right! “Sam,” for short. That beautiful ballad, (On Again, Off Again,” should be translated into Chinese so that Hsuan Tung can sing it. = a If war deprives you of choice wuts or tidbts, remember that abstineice makes the heart grow fonder. .. - | SLOPE DELEGATES) FORGE LEAGUE BR REHEAT Manager D. C. Coates Announces | Unanimous Approval of 100 Representatives aves \ One hundred delegates representing the Slope country in convention here i “that TH SYNOPSIS. CHAPTER I—On a trip through the Eng- lish Cumberland country the breakdown of her automobile forces Louise Maurel, a famous London actress, to spend the night at the farm home of John and Stephen Strangewey. CHAPTER II—At dinner Louise discov- ers that the brothers are woman-hating recluses, CHAPTER IlI—Next morning she dis- covers that John, the younger brother, has recently come into a large fortune. is company with him she explores the CHAPTER IV—In‘a talk with him she is disturbed by his rigid moral principles and finds that his wealth has created ne desire for any other life than the simple one he is leading. She tells him her name and that she is the friend of the prince of Seyre, a rich and disreputable neighbor, ‘*' CHAPTERV. © i Once more that long, winding stretch of mountain road lay empty under the moonlight. Up the’ long slope, where three months before he had ridden to find himself confronted with the ad- venture of his life, John Strangewey jogged homeward In his high dogcart. The mare, scenting her stable, broke into a quick trot as they, topped the long rise. Suddenly she felt a hand tighten upon her reins, She looked inquiringly.around, and then, stqod pa- tiently awaiting her master’s bidding. It seemed to John as if he had passed from the partial abstraction of the last few hours into absolate and entire for- getfulness of the present. He could see the motorcar drawn up by the side of the road, could hear ‘the fretful HIL LMA geeined “to be turning, sOme THougit over in his mind, | “John,” he asked, “Is it this cursed | money that is making you restless?” | “I never think of it except when} | someone comes begging. I promised a thousand pounds to the infirmary to- day.” “Then what’s wrong with you?” John stretched himself out, a splen- did figure of healtby manhood. His | cheeks were sun-tanned, his eyes clear and bright. . . | “The matter? There’s nothing on | earth the matter with me,” he de- clared, “It isn’t your health I mean. There | are other things, as you well know. You do your day's work and you take your pleasure, and you go through both as if your feet were on a treadmill.”. “Your fancy, Stephen!” “God grant it! I've had an unwel- come visitor in your absence.”: John turned swiftly around.. “A visitor?” he repeated. “Who wat | it?” Stephen giowered at him for a mo- ment. “It was the prince,” he said; “the prince of Seyre, as he calls himself, though he his ‘the right to style him self Master of Raynham. It’s only his foreign blood which makes him choose.|, what I regard as the lesser title, Yes, he called to ask you to shoot and Stay |! at the castle, ff you would, from the sixteenth to the twentieth of next month.” “What answer did you give him?” “I told him that you were your owr | master. You*must send word tomor row.” voice of the maid, and the soft, pleas- ant words of greeting from the woman who had seemed from the first as if she were very far removed indeed from any of the small annoyances of their accident. “I have broken down. Can you help?” He set his teeth, The paignancy of the recollection was a torture to him Sore by, word he llved again througt bridf Infestiew. ‘He saw her de- seend from the car, felt the touch of her hand!'on ‘his ‘arm, ‘saw the flash of her brown eyes as she drew close t¢ him with that'pleasant little air of fa miliarity, shared by no other womar he had ever known, ‘Then the little scene faded away, an¢ he remembered the tedious present He had spent two dull days at the house of a neighboring land owner playing cricket in the daytime, dancing at night with women in whom he wa: unable to feel the slightest interest always with that faraway feeling ir his heart, struggling hour by hour witt that curious restlessness which seemet to have 'tiken @ permanent place in his dispésition.. He was on his way home to Peak Hall. He knew exactly the welcome which was awaiting him, He knew exactly the news he would receive. He raised his whip and cracked it viciously in the air, _ Stephen was waiting for him, as he had expected, in the dining room. The elder Strangewey was seated in his ac- customed chair, smoking his pipe and reading the paper. The table was laid for a meal, which Jenningg was pre- paring to serve. “Back again, John?” his brother re- marked, looking at him fixedly over his newspaper. John picked, up one or two letters, glaneed them over, and flung them dowm upon the table. He had exam- tned: évéry envelope for the last few months with the same expectancy, and thrown each one down with the same throb of disappointment. “As you see.” “Had a good time?” “Not very. Have they finished the barley fields, Stephen?” “All in at eight o'clock.” There was a brief silence. Then Stephen knocked the ashes from his pipe and rose to his feet. “John,” he asked, “why did you pull upon the road there?” There was no immediate answer. The slightest of frowns formed itself upon the younger man’s face. “How did you know that I pulled up?” “T was sitting with the window open, Ustening for you. I came outside to see what had happened, and I saw your lights standing still.” “I had a fancy*to stop for a mo- ment,” John said; “nothing more.” Friday afternoon unanimously en-| “You aren't letting your thoughts dorsed the Nonpartisan league’s pro-| dwell upon that woman?” posed contract with the Agricultural| “I have thought about her some- Workers’ union, by. which the latter | times,” John answered, almost ddfiant- is to supply farm labor for North Da-! ly.’ “What's the harm? I’m still here, kota unde: union regulations, an- | am I not?” nounced ae C oaks: league Mehager, | Stephen crossed the room. From the ose of the meoting. "Te ses-| drawer of the old mahogany sideboard he produced iin iustrated paper. He | Sion was open to the public, and the| court room was well filled. Thi vas | we “8 lturned back the frontispiece fiercely and held it up. much general discussion of the pro- | posed agreement, which has not to “Do you see that, John?” “I've seen it already.” date been divulged in all of its details, and Manager Coates stated there was | ; no unfavorable criticism. Stephen threw the paper upon the ——— | table. | FIRE CAUSES BIG LOSS | “She's “going to act in another of jthose confounded French plays,” he $1500 Stallion Perishes in Burn-|said; “translations with all the wit ’ ing Flaxton Barn ‘taken out and all the vulgarity left { in” Flaxton, N. D.. July 14—A large . “We knew nothing of her art,” John barn, with all of its contents, includ-; declared coldly. “We shouldn't under- ing a $1,500 Percheron stallion, were | stand it, even if we saw her act, There- destroyed by fire on the farm of Mrs. | fore it isn't right for us to judge her. Amelia B. Hoyt, near here. |The world has found her a great ac- | = |tress. She is not responsible for the Looking for Something Easy. | plays she acts in.” “De man dat allus wants to be boss,"|_ Stephen turned away and lit his S mos’ generally one | pipg anew. He smoked for a minute or said Uncle Eben, “ dat ain’ learned no regular work an’ is|two furiously. His thick eyebrows | came closer and closer together. He Asthvbd ¥ Ro tryin’ to pick out somethin’ easy.” SESE CE TNO “He did not mention the names of | any of his other guests, I suppose?” “He mentioned no names at all.” “You Aren’t Letting Your Thoughts Dwell Upon That Woman?” John was silent for a moment. A | dewildering thought had taken hold of dim, Supposing she were to be there? Stephen, watching him, read Is thoughts, and for a moment lost con- trol of himself. “Were you thinking about that wom- an?” he asked sternly. “What woman?” al My “The woman whom we sheltered || here, the woman whose shameless pic- ture is on the cover of that book.” John swung round on his heel. “Stop that, Stephen!” he said mea- acingly. : “Why should I?” the older man re- torted. “Take up that paper, if you want to read a sketch of the life of Louise Maurel. See the play she made her name in—La Gloconda’ !” , “What about it?” Stephen held the paper out to his brother. John read a few lines and dashed it into a corner of the room. | “There’s this much about it, John,” | Stephen continued. “The woman played i that part night after night—played it | to the life, mind you. She made her | reputation in it. That’s the woman | we unknowingly let sleep beneath this roof! The barn is the place for her | and her sort!” John’s clenched fists were held firm- | ty to his sides, His eyes were blazing. | “That's enough, Stephen!” he cried. “No, it’s not enough !” was the fierce reply.” “The truth’s been burning in my heart long enough. It’s better out. You want to find her a guest at Rayn- ; ham castle, do you?—Raynham castle, | where never a'decent woman crosses | the threshold! If she goes there, she | goes— Well?” An anger that was almost paralyz- Ing, a sense of the utter impotence of | words, drove John in silence from the | toom. He left the house by the back | door, passed quickly through the or- chard, where the tangled moonlight lay | upon the ground in strange, fantastic | shadows: across the narrow strip of | Geld, a field now.of golden stubble; up the hill which looked down upon the farm buildings and the churchyard. He sat grimly down upon a great bowlder, filled with a hateful sense of unwreaked passion, yet with a sheer thankfulness inthis heart that he had | escaped the miasma of evil thoughts | which Stephen’s words seemed to have | created. The fancy seized him to face these half-velled suggestions of his brother, so far as they concerned | himself and life during the last tew months. hy | Stephen was fight. This woman who ‘lay the Mttle church with its. grave- , yard, the long line of stacks and barns, | was the dark gorge toward which he | The Whistle Sounded. few prier hours had played strange havoc with John’s thoughts and his whole outlook’ upon life. The coming of harvest, the care of his people, his sports, his cricket, the early days upon the grouse moors, had all suddenly lost their interest for him. Life had become a task. The echo of her half- mocking, half-challenging words .was always in his ears. He sat with his head resting upon his hands, looking steadfastly across the valley below. Almost at his feet the laborers’ cottages, the ‘bailiffs house, the whole little colony around which his fe seemed centered, The summer moonlight lay upon the ground almost like snow. He could.see the sheaves of wheat standing up: in. the most distant of the cornfields. Beyond had looked .so many nights at this hour, Across the viaduct there came 8 blaze of streaming light, a serpentitke trail, a faintly heard whistle—the Scot: tish express on its way southward toward London. His eyes followed ii | out of sight. He found himself think: ing of the passengers who would wake the next morning in London. He fell himself suddenly acutely conscious of his isolation. Was there not something almost monastic in the seclusion which had become a passion with Stephen and which had its grip, too, upon him— a waste of life, a burying of talents‘ He rose to his fect. The half-formedé purpose of weeks held him now, deft. nite and secure. He knew that this pil- grimage of his to the hilltop, his rapt contemplation of 'the Nttle panorame which had become so dear to him, was in a sense valedictory. * s * After all, two more months passed before the end came, and it came ther without a moment's warning. It was aclittle.past midday when John droxe slowly through the’streets of Market Ketton'in his high dogcart; exchanging salutations right and left with’ the tradespeople, with farmers brought into town by the market, with ac: quaintances of all sorts and condi- tions. More than one young woman from the shop windows or the pave ments ventured to smile at him, and the few greetfngs he received from the | wives and daughters of his neighbors were as gracious as they could possibly be made. John almost smiled once, in| the act of raising his hat, as hé real- | ized how completely the whole charm of the world, for him, seemed to lle in | one woman’s eyes. ( At the crossways, where he should have tuted to! the dh, he paused while | a’ motorcar passed. It contained 9, woman, who was talkingi to /her ‘host, She was not. inthe Juast like Lou ise, and yet instinctively he knew, that she was of the same world. The per: fection of her white-serge costume, her hat so smartly worn, the half-insolent smile, the little gesture with which she raised her hand—something about her unlocked the floodgates, ae Market Ketton had seemed wel! enough a few minutes ago. John haé felt a healthy appetite for his midday meal, and a certain interest concerning | a. deal in barley: upon:which*he wat about to engage.-And now anpther world had. him in hw ._ Hg flecked the nidie! with Afé a Pinks nway from the inn, and. galloped ‘up to the station, keeping pace with the train whose whistle he had heard. Standing outside was a_local horse dealer of his acquaintance, “Take the mare back for me to Peak Hall, will you, Jenkins, or send one of your lads?” he begged. “I want to zatch this train.” The man assented with pleasure—it paid to do a kindness for a Strange- wey. John passed through the ticket The Adventure of His Life Had Begun at Last. office to the platform, where the train was waiting, threw open the door of a carriage, and flung himself into a corner seat. The whistle sounded. The adventure of his life had begun at last. Serving Notice. “Norah,” said the mistress of the house, to the awkward, maid, “you must never commit a faux pas like that again.” “Yes, ma’am. But there ain’t no use of you givin’ it a foreign name, ma’am. I simply tripped on a rug an’ spilled the soup. I never was talked to that way before, ma'am, an’ if you do it again, I'll quit.” . ———_—__ Always Obliging. “Listen, Susan, I'm going to have & Uttle affair at the house, here, whicli will include a supper and a dance. Now, you will have to show what you can do, so as to keep up the credit of the establishment.” “With pleasure, ma’am, but you'll have to excuse me from the waltz and two-step because I can only dance the Gen. La Fayette’s historic service to America when this ‘country was struggling for its independence makes him the first Frenchman in the hearts of Americans and the one who, on France’s own birthday, Americans will iy On July 4, 1776, a handful of Amer ican colonists declared themselve: free and‘independent and prepared t: fight to make their words good. The: (ie, henge thet na thank: , the hélp’ of) French | {ro anc 1Phe shots fired in that-war for free dom were heard around the world Everywhere men were set. thinking Everywhere men wondered. whether kings really riled by divine right. The fruit of that thought was made visible. to all the world when on July 14, 1789, the French people stormed, captured: and tore down the bastile, the hideous prison fortress into which thase,,who made themselves obnoxious tolithe king; were ‘thrown! for long. moths and’’éVen years’ bf capitvity. The bay stile represented to the French a’ fyranny they had long en- dured. Its every cell had been bathed with the tears of innocent men and women, many of whom had never emérged from its gloomy walls alive. Its every floor could tell tales of bru- tality, of ‘cruelty, of hideous deeds done in the dark. The work, begun then, led to the scaffold Louis XVI of the proud house whose arrogant saying was: “The state? I am the state.” The revolution set in motion by the fall of the Bastile set the whole world by the ears. Its echoes were ‘heard for decades.. Out of it came.the fear- ee oars remember first,, Out, of higdevoted a nd unselfish services to the cause of liberty in America has grown the bo nd between the two nations that has made them everlasting companions a { mong nations. HONOR FRANCE, ON HER JULY FOURTH sa | ful times 0? “the terror,” the wonder- ‘ul epoch of Napolcon, the restoration of the little kings, the fall of Napo- leon THI in 1870, when France, too. seemed to have fallen. But after the German conquerors rad taken their toll of French indem- lity money, the wheel of the revolu- tion had come ‘ull circle, the work was ended, and the reat’ republic was al last established with its great mot- to of “Liberty, equality’ ‘fraternity ‘a Today is Franve’s Fousth’ of July. Having just celebrated our own Inde- pendence day, what more fitting than that we Americans give honor to french liberty? Ae American celebration, ofthis day. Bastile day, is a visihle and beautiful and touching evidence, pf tie amity that has existed betwecrn the two great sister republics. It gives us a chance. to shew our love for generous France -the chivalrous nation that has been in the forefront of civilization, ever ready to do battle for tiberty. for ideas, for truth. In war times we must not only en- list our men and our money, but also our emolions, And no country in the world can. possibly have the straight appeal to the American heart that France inspires—France with whom we have ever been on terms of peace and friendship; France wiick for three terrible years nas:taught all the peoples of the earth how to bleed to death, if need be, for the sacred cause of human liberty; France, which has borne the-battering blows of the Huns without - whimpering and without reap of; Sy al yal which has cof eit rh th Atte to quit. By Justice (By Justice J. E. Robinson.) Yesterday 1 went to the Valley City chautauqua and made a short address to over 2,000 people. - They applauded when I told them of the pet Baer in Fargo, whom they are going to send as a mascot to-congress. I have great faith in that Baer. It was with reluctance that 1 left my post of duty: at the capitol, but I excused myself because I have made extra: time by working on holidays and” have not. been absent or tardy during the ‘business ‘hours of any day. This week all our judges have been present and at work, -but-not always promptly on time. ‘Last week one judze was absent six days and one Saturday Evening Letter J. E. Robinson to all public servants wio draw their salary and leave their work to others. The duty of the governor is to see that the laws are faithfully executed and to keep tab.on all the other state officers, just the same as if they were in his employ. Now what if the gov- ernor were hired as the head of a great business industry, like the Ford Manufacturing company, would it do for him and all the other heads of departments to run off and leave their work at any time? Sure enough it would quickly lead to bankruptcy. No private or corporate business was ever ; Successfully run in the way that pub- ‘lic business is run, without any super- ; Vision, control or accounting. That is one of the strongest reasons for tor three days. I do not think that opposing governmental control and, either one would thank me for giving| Operation of public utilities. Indeed his name. It is a good sign when, We cannot fairly hope for any real judges begin to feel that their ab-) Progress in state affairs until we come sence from-duty is cause for shame. to. realize that public business must Of course the shame should extend Ye done on business principles. . HOT WEATHER BY BERTON BRALEY. I wish I were a polar bear, up north where heat waves solar bear Less heavily on animals and Esquimaux and such, I'd take my ursine family and in an ice cave, clammily And chillily we'd linger and enjoy it very much. ‘ Or if 1 were a whale, away through waters blue I'd safl away {Or swim, if you prefer it, but the other made a rime) To waters flowing frigidly, where J could freeze up rigidly And have a cool vacation and a very pleasant time. Td give’# pink begonia to bathe’ in pure ammonia (“Begonia—ammonia"— no other rimes would do) For though it suffocated me while it refrigerated me Ya° be “completely heatless till the arctic bath was through. Oh strip me_of my covering while all this heat is’ hovering |, , And fill me full of liquid air, no mattér’ what"the price, polka.” ad dropped trom,the clouds for those: oop SH Le I'm stuck to by*my underwear and constantly I ‘wonder where ilor who could make a suit of ice. (”