The Bismarck Tribune Newspaper, April 30, 1919, Page 4

Entere at the Postoffice, Bismarck, N. D., as Second lass Mates, iced 3 - 5 Editor COMPANY, PAYNE GEORGE D. MANN G, LOGAN - NEW YORK, Fifth Ave sldg.;) CHICAGO, Marquette ; BOSTON, 3 Winer St.; DETROIT, Kresege MINNEAPOL 5) 810 Lumber Exchange. MEMBER OF ASSOCIATED PRESS esclusively entitled to the use s c.edited to it or not otherwise ere‘ite’ in this paper and also the local news published ; i : hes eir re bf any preceding Liberty Loan gives any person, or All) yshts of publication of special dispatches hereim are any group of persons, any committee, or any gov- e' “pserved “MEMBER AUDIT BUREAU OF CIRCULATION soUKIVTION RATES PAYABLE IN ADVANCE D by carrier per year .. eee $7.20 Desiv by mail per year (In ee . 7.20 D; by mail per year (In state outside of Bismarck) 5.00 Daily by mail outside of North Dakota ............ 6.00 THE STATE'S OLDEST NEWSPAPER. (Established 1873) <i> THE WIFE OF A SUPERHERO! The lady in the picture above is Mrs. Samuel Woodfill. The man is Carter Glass, U. S. secretary of the treasury. He is taking her application for a VICTORY BOND. ‘ # Mrs. Woodfill:was one.of the very first Ameri- aps to buy a Fifth Liberty Bond; And who is Mrs. Woodfill?”” 2 She’s the wife of Lieutenant Samuel Woodfill, héro of Cunel. That’s who she is. .The worthy wife of ‘as fine an American as ever lived ! .. You remember Lieutenant Woodfill? He was one of the heroes picked by Pershing, whose Heroic geds “over there” wexe.retold in a series of arti- ; published in this newspaper, entitled, ‘“Ten} t Hero Stories of the War/”.* # We will repeat.a few sentences from the Story of, Lieutenant Woodfill. On Oct. 12 the lieutenant*was leading men of Co. M., Sixtieth Infantry into action at Cunel. They ran into a hell of a German machine gun fire, and weve halted. "Picking two privates, said, “Follow me.” They did. When near the gun, Lieutenant Woodfill told them to remain under cover while he went ALONE to the Hun nest. When they saw him coming alone THREE Hun privates rushed at him. He shot and killed the three. Then the Hun officer sprang upon him, giving him no time or range for his rifle. So Woodfill used his gun as aj club and beat the Hun down, drawing his pistol to finish him. Then the company advanced. Then they came upon another machine gun nest. And again Wood- fil went ALONE to clean it out. And he did, cap- toring the THREE Huns in the pit. ‘The company advanced. A third machine gun nest plocked the way. For the third time this super-American went ahead, ALONE, and wiped out the Huns, this time using a pick as ‘a weapon in a hand-to-hand encounter. Then the company went on to victory. Lieutenant Samuel Woodfill didn’t wait, hesi- tate, postpone, hum-and-haw about doing his duty ; doing what he thought ought to be done; some- thing his country wanted done! And his wife didn’t say, “Let somebody else with more money buy our country’s bonds; we’ve done enough in this war.” You bet she didn’t. 4 Lieutenant Woodfill THE VICTORY LOAN IS NOT TAXATION Money received from the sale of the Fifth Lib- _ erty (Victory) Loan will not PAY war debts. It will pay war BILLS. That is, the money thus “raised will be used in settling the federal govern- ment’s obligations at banks where treasury cer- tificates are held as evidences of the government’s indebtedness, issued beginning last November, supplied money for the payment of war bills, which included to the extent of many hundred .Millions,-the cost of returning our soldiers from _, abroad and from training camps. The Victory Loan merely changes the person- nel of the government’s creditors. By the pur- © chase of a bond, you, instead of some bank, are financing your government to that extent. You are not paying any portion of the national war debt ; you are substituting yourself in‘“place of a bank government’s creditor.. And instead ‘ the'bank interest for loaning its money, ‘the ‘interest. . y| the voluntary lending of money. civic ideals. BISMAROK DAILY TRIBUNE bank, in this or any other country, as strong as this government. And Victory Bonds are the promissory notes of this government, backed by all the wealth of the wealthiest country on earth, and backed by all Americans of today and tuiu.- row. i a rE Victory Bonds are safe, sound, profitable. But they are not taxation. § Nothing in the law paving the way for this or ernment official, the right to “assess” any other person than himself. The very spirit of democ- racy is violated when one person seeks to compel a fellow citizen to INVEST a.single penny or a million dollars in the bonds of his government. He SHOULD invest, for it is a GOOD invest- ment. But he should not be forced to invest, if he cannot see that it is the thing for him to do. He should not be brow-beaten, intimidated, threat- ened, for not a word in the Liberty Loan legisla- tion permits even a suggestion of such a thing. He may be compelled to pay his taxes but the Victory Loan is not taxation. It is —OUGHT TO BE— We may—each of us—‘“assess” ourselves to the amount of bonds we think we can afford to buy, the investment we believe we can make. But let us not “assess” our neighbor’s ability to invest. If that is necessary the logical and legal way is to call it a tax and not a loan, to demand it from him and not plead for it, to make it a duty of citi- zenship, not a privilege. Then, tax assessors and collectors, will do the work, not the fine host of | voluntary citizens who are selling bonds in this campaign. Every: Victory Loan salesman, we believe, will remember that he, or she, is 2 governmental bond seller—NOT A TAX COLLECTOR! “IF YOU KNOWS OF A BETTER ’OLE, GO TO IT!” For our part, we believe in sticking to our own home town—and, as we stick to it, we intend to BOOST jit! We believe Bismarck is a good place to live! We believe it is the BEST place to live! And we believe that under the glorious folds of the banner of Americanism, a unit for the defense of the institutions of our fathers, instinct with the enthusiasm of realized democracy, our city will keep on growing, each year a still better place to live !—a*still happier and more fortunate com- munity. BE 8r “PE LIe Never in’ its “history has Bismarck had the golden chance now offered’ it“for intensified pros- perity and for far-reaching achievement of its BECAUSE—never in its history have its citi- zens been joined together in such firm and public- spirited bonds of patriotism as those created by the past two years of war. ; NOW—We believe—is the’ time to begin har- vesting the fruits:of this war-engendered spirit of MUTUAL MUNICIPAL ALLEGIANCE. The great Liberty Loan campaigns, the war chest and alied war relief drives, all our big cele- brations and patriotic rallies, this whole era of intensive public speaking, community organiza- tion, mutual co-operation, and common self-sacri- fice for a common cause—these things have re- sulted in an unprecedented outpouring of high- minded civic enthusiasm. They have vitalized and dramatized for us our city’s heart and soul. Shall all this enthusiasm be mere froth, to be blown away in the first light zephyrs of peace- time? ; Shall it not rather be:crystallized AT ONCE AND FOREVER, into an intense and universal civic loyalty—a deepening faith in our city which will soon prove to be Bismarck’s richest asset? EVERETT TRUE SAY EverREetT ‘ CIETSD OUT. eee, ! Heee IT tS — Ste | ol Ss esate ac A SOL ee eel Dx EVER HAVE A TOOTH PULLED I've JUST BEEN To THS DENTIST AND MID ONG THar BIG. Cavity f AND, N THIS SIDE, WHERE You BE THAT BLOOD - CLOT, iT WAS A BAD ONG. TOUS ery rf! ~ gk Bu Henry Ki Auth “The Real Adventure,” “ (Copyright by the “But he didn’t believe that when I told him so the other day. He was kind—he'd always be that—and en- couraging. But it was quite plain that I'd become to him just one of those freak fool inventors that they make jokes about in the comic supple- ments—somebody to be sorry for and lend fifty dollars to and get-rid of. “Well, it’s pretty hard to. believe a man is wrong when you see him sur- rounded with the evidence of his right- ness about other things—see him mak- ing decisions, crisp and cool, and oth- er people taking them without a mo- ment’s question. So I came away won- dering if he wasn’t right about me. That's why I went to pieces like ‘that when you came and told me he'd changed his mind.” | ~ “But you didn't understand!” said Celie... “He didn’t disbelieve in you. He told me that night that he thought probably you were right about it. But we're poor. Didn't he tell yop that? We lost all our money, We're living in a little $12-dollar a month flat out near Humboldt park. He’s; working for $25 dollars a week—oh, but thir- ty! He got a raisé Saturday. So, you see, it wasn’t that he didn't: believe in you.” It had been a certain tense incredul- ity in his gaze at her, which had kept her piling up these confirmatory: de- tails—a vaguely disquieting look. She was glad when he turned away. “But then, the two thousand‘ dol- lars?” he asked suddenly, turning back’ again after a silence. “Where did that come from?” “Oh, that,” she said, “was something that he insisted was mine and would- n’t touch. It was mine, in a way, of course, So when he said he thought you were right about it, J went and got the money, without telling ‘him, you see, and” brought it “to you. And 1 don’t want you to tell him, either. Just write him a note that you've got the money for the test, and that you'll deeds of each and all of us. Let us start right now—while the power of war-created community spirit is still strong within us—to boost our Home town and our home town’s institutions; to come to bat for our own local industries; to’pat- ronize our own merchants and our own banks; to stand by our schools, churches and charities. The greater wealth, the greater happiness, the greater well-being of each of us individually and of all collectively, is the aim. A city united, self-reliant, secure in its grow- ing prosperity, will be the sure result. ‘Let this, then, be the quaintessence of our creed: To know our city, to believe in it, to stick to it, to work for it, to be loyal to it today, and to rally to every policy looking toward its betterment to- morrow. For we believe that only as Mr. You-and-I rec- ognize our essential solidarity, our common alle- giance not only to the institutions of the nation as a whole, BUT ALSO TO THE INSTITUTIONS OF THIS COMMUNITY in which we have chosen to live—only thus can we realize to the full in our own lives and homes; the blessings of peace and prosperity, the ideals of social service and democ- racy for which the war was fought and won. When the allied artillery opens up on the Bol- shevik forces, the bewhiskered Slav doubtless The answer rests in the daily thoughts and|i im know how it comes out ‘Sit down for another minut said, and led the way back to the blac just as she'd pushed it over to him. walnut table, where the check. lay, “I think I ought to tell you,” he went on, “that any sensible man of business experience, if he knew about this transaction, would warn you very earn- estly, not to go thrqugh with it. He's beg you to pick up’that check, if he _|were standing here, and put it-back in your pocket. If he did, I shouldn’t have a word to say, except to thank you for your kindness. That's what I'll do if you pick it up and put it back in your purse now. I don’t urge you to do it myself, because I abso- lutely believe that it’s a safe, im- mensely profitable investment. But I’m the only person in the world who be- lieves that. Don’t you want to take it back?” i “No,” said Celia. “I believe it, too.” He picked up the check, folded it very deliberately, and put it: in his pocketbook. Visibly he was thinking his way through the silence to some- thing else. At last he said, “Ill do as you like about your husband, of course—tell him. simply that I’ve: got the money to complete the ‘tests;. also, Tl tell him when they’re successful. But, since you're a partner in..this business, I’d' like to notify you, too. Do you mind letting’me have your ad- dress?” sae “Why,” said Celia, “‘why—of course not. I—we’d be glad if you’d come and see us. And—and of course you may let me know as well as Alfred, if you like.” He took the card she wrote for him and put it, too, in his pocketbook, with an air, somehow, of concluding the business, between them ashe did so. She got up and held out her hand to him. “Goodby,” she said, “and good luck! And I hope you'll come out thanks his God that we are not really at war with him. | Exports in March were valued at $605,000,000, but at present prices it doesn’t take much to be would, She gave him the invitation and see us.” She hadn’t the least idea that he in an uneasy attempt to obliterate the reason he had avowed for asking for address. So that he could notify as well as her husband of the suc- cess of his tests? Oh, it was natural ‘enough that he should want to do that wi dase WHAT MAKES A FELLOW CARRY AROUND ‘A BLOODY FANG To SHOW THEIR STOMACHS } “THE THOROUGHBRED” FRIENDS AND TURN SS HP pity WAN SY | at ett tte ata | tchell Webster or of ‘The Painted Scene,” Etc. Bobbs Merrill Co.) sommenmeen oe !—especially considering how queer he was—a sort of sentimental recognition of her as a partner in the enterprise. If he’d just said something like that— It was his silence—his failure to make that obvious little explanation, that made it seem queer. But even length of a fear, that,ber, husband wouldn't tell; her if; the |thing:suc- ceeded. had He did run ‘away with strange no- tions, though. His account of his scene with Alfred was -so widely at vari- ance. with her husband’s report of the casual encounter that had taken place between them. What.had ‘he meant by saying he had seen’ Alfred with all’ the ‘evidence of ‘his rightiess'‘about other! things around him; making. décisions "that lother people accepted? ™ It ‘must’ ‘have been a most casual encounter, ‘really. Hadn’t Alfred said it took place in the street? The inventor might have walked along with him back to the office, of course. She stopped short on the way over ito the street car, from a suddén im- pulse to.go back and ask the inven- tor one question. Had Alfred offered him fifty dollars? March hadn’t said so in so many words. Alfred had treated him, he said, as the kind of inventor one offers fifty dollars to jin order to get rid of. Of course it was an absurd idea. Alfred hadn't fifty dollars. She knew—didn’t she?— almost exactly, within a couple of dol- lars, how much he had on the last day before pay day? All the same, it was.a minute or two that she stood there fighting off that impulse to go back. And. the real reason down undefheath, why she did not go, was that she was afraid to. Chapter XI IN THE: DARK There is a widely held idea that we arrive at our convictions by piecing them together, matching up bits that; it, the way we solve picture puzzles.) But in reality, convictions are live! things, and they grow. Sometimes | they’re plants we get from the ar- idener and set out in a carefully se- lected spot, with an artificially’ en- Iriched soil about their roots; some- times they are weeds whose seeding | is a mystery to us and whose rank growth is our despair. Fhat is how |a hateful conviction about her hus- jband began to grow in Celia’s mind./} She could not have told, when firs |she saw it sprouting up, exactly what) it was going to turn out to be. It} was just a vague wonder, at first— something not to think about. Some- {thing shaped like an interrogation |point,- which she had resolutely to ignore whenever she tried to tell her- self, ag she did more often every day, ithat she was~completely in her hus-, band’s confidence, and he in hers. The thing had planted itself and be- gun to grow, although she didn’t know it, at some time before her talk with March. This was evident from the fact that’ the inventor’s hints had found some- thing in her that answered them—met them half-way. If the thing had not} alreatly seeded and sprouted in her, the notion would not have occurred to her, even though labeled preposter- jous, that Alfred might have offered Majer’ March fifty dollars. And now that she looked at jit, she saw_another stalk growing beside it— the question whether Alfred’s boss had really raised his wages last Saturday, to thirty dollars a week, and if so,; why he had forgotten to tell her.’ For- gotten! And come home on a Satur- day, night without his week’s pay in his pocket! And looked so blank when she'd asked him for it! She scolded herself furiously—was indeed, sincerely angry with herself— despised herself rather. It was her imiserable feminine pettiness and sus- picion and jealousy that were respon- sible. Wo were like that, she sup-! f wubice f | jsensed his queerness could hardly go to the} q them didn’t breed a fine confidence in the object of it. It made them. will- ing—eager, to impute the low-downost, meanest evasions and tricks, Sho re- membered, years ago, having heard a boy say about a girl he'd quarreled with, that she was no gentlonan, Did she want to give Alfred tho right to say the same, thing about her? A thorough dressing-down like that did her good, The first time she re- sorted to it, ‘indeed, she thought it had effected a cure. ‘This was on the afternoon of that very Monday when she took the two thousand dollars to Major March. She waited for her hus- band to come home that night, with nothing in her heart but a pure long- ing to make up to him in love and confidence, for the injurious misgiv- ings she'd harbored against him. But, just the same, when he, be- fore she'd taken her arms away from around his neck, pulled out of his pocket a sealed envelope—a regular pay envelope—and tore it open and produced three $10 dollar bills, she! something a little unnatural | about it all. If he'd gone to the; cashier to get the money instead of! the check as he'd promised, would the cashier have taken the trouble to put} the money in an envelope? The pet- i tiness of the doubt infuriated her, and she retorted on herself with a counter- attack. Woulkdn’t she have been just} bus, unworthy little fool that | as, if he’d taken three loose bills | out of his pocket? Have wondered | why they wern’t an envelope? She waited, breathlessly one might almost have said, to see whether he'd tell her that he’d heard from March; assuring herself pretty often that of course he would, and finding herself believing, in between, that he wouldn't. She tried, off and on, to convince her- self-that there ie should. But thi§ ground was unten- able. We did tell her on Tuesday night— jthe very day he'd heard., But not until quite late, ter they'd gone to bed. It hadn't en avery jolly evening. There was an uncomfortable — silent stretch after supper, which be’d brok- en up by suggesting the movies. They'd gone, and they hadn't been much amused.. He hag been as bored as she, she was sure. “But it was‘he who had asked her what the matter was—why she hadn't liked it. ' “Oh,” she exclaimed, “they're all so exactly alike, those people on the screen. They lie so much and believe each other so easily! Somebody ‘says something that isn’t so at all, but no matter how unlikely it is, the other person acts as if there weren't any possibility of doubting it; goes on and believes it for years. I don’t believe that people really can lie very much, or deceive each other very long, there are so many little ways of giving them- selves away. That wife tonight, if she hadn't been born an idiot, would have known.” Alfred had had nothing to contribute to: this conyersation at all, and they'd walked along home, locked’ yp, ui-~ sed and gone to bed in an almost, unbfoken silence. It was then he} ‘Oh,. by the way!; I. h March. He got his money.’ “His two thousand dollars?” It was curiously easy for her to manage that tone of ,cool indifference. “She: de- spised herself, rather, for being able to act so well. “I suppose,” she went on, “that the person who gave it to him must look pretty foolish to you.” “Oh, no,” he said comfortably, “not necessarily, No, not a bit. There's asschance that he’s made a perfectly corking investment. He probably got his pound of flesh for it, all right.” It occurred to Celia at. this moment, that she’d made-no bargain, expressed or implied, with the ventor; had simply given him the money. She didn’t believe that he had noticed the omission either. This speculation of hers occupied a rather long silence. Finally Alfred went on, jocularly—a little too jocu- larly, her ear told her. “So you see, we may make our ever- lasting fortunes after all. I’ve got an iron-clad contract with him—not that March would try to evade any sort of contract, or even an obligation—that gives me half of whatever inven tion brings in, cash, royajties, or stot Old 1; we may get to be millionaires yet. The only appropriate response, Celia could think of to this remark .was a laugh of good ,humored . skepti a, and as she did not dare attempt. this (feeling pretty sure it wouldn't sound as she meant it,to) she lay still and waited. After another ‘silence, he asked, “Do you wish we were?” “Millionaires? With a butler box at the opera and six motors “Oh,” he said, “I didn’t mean any- thing fant I meant, were you wishing it might run to enough to— put us back where we were—your old friends, the old way of living? Shall you be looking forward to it as some- thing that would pull us out of this? That’s what I mean. Are you getting sick of this?” eard from | dia 7 Don’t fail to seethe lovely posed, and, they’d just have to get over it; before the equality they were: so fond of proclaiming nowadays would have any basis ji tact, Love in SPECIAL ORCHESTRA tA WEDNESDA¥VSIAPRIL 30; 1919 Cee eat no reason why hej AUDITORIUM ‘Tonight and Tomorrow Night ‘TWO NIGHTS .ONLY Clara Kimball Young Ina Thrilling Tale of Loye and Adventure “TheRoad Through theDark” Patronize Your Municipal Play House TWO SHOWS—7:30 AND 9: The words gave Celia a chance: to tell him what ‘she really, did’ want. She'd hesitated to tell’him before, you will remember, ‘that dream of hers about the two or three acres some- where, ,trom ,a. reluctance to cut short his, holiday.” Well, whatever had come to take its place, his holiday was over lad’ been, now ‘she came ‘to .think of it, for weeks, Aud this bubble of hope which Major March's invention had sent swimming before their eyes, was, nO matter how illusory it might prove to be, a thing one ‘could use for secing all sorts of fanciful, roseate re- floctions in, Well, why couldn’t she say to him: “Darlingest, 1 wouldn't 3) back to™4 that old way of living for a million dollars, or a hundred million, and you know it Just as well as I do. It was a nightmare to you when we lived like that, and it; wasn’t to me. But it’s grown to be a-nightmare to me jnow since I've learned what really being alive means. But 1 do want.to get away from her to somewhere where live growing things—young live things—will-have a better chance; more air and sun and cleanness than they'd have here. 1 don’t want any- thing big—not too big for me to run myself while you’rein town—but room enough for flowers and vegetables, and chickens, and a cow. And a baby, Fred.” + (To Be Continued.) SS DROVE. YOKE OF OVEN TO. CHIGAB At ‘Age of 74. Farmer Can -Do as (Much Work as 20 Year Old Boy. —Praises Tanlac.. “Well, sir, fiv before I start- ed takmg ‘Tanlac my trowdles made me quit iarm:, work, 2ut now £ feel £0 good (f. believe { could woirl in. and sow as:much oats agzil did when bwas a young. man of) ::twent degiared Jeorge Heinz, Sr, who lives three miles west of Peoria, Il..on Rt. F. D. route No. 1,,a few days ago. Mr. Heinz has. lived on his farm tor fifty years and is well and ‘favorably known to @ great many persons n ithat vicinity. “When my wife and I tirst settled here.” continued. Mr. ‘Heinz, “Peoria was just a small village and when we would have to ,have anything they didn't keep in town I'd just hook up a yoke of oxen and go to Chicago, be- cause we didn’t have any railroad to Chicago ‘in those days. 1 worked pretty. hard on, the tarm up till the jtime I a mtelling you about when stomach trouble knocked me out, and I fad rheumatism in my left knge so bad. my wife; would put hot poultices on it to try and rid me of the pain. My stomach got. in such vad. ‘shape that I couldn't: take anything but li- quids or, soft tuings to eat and], tell you I, got,, mighty. tired eating: ‘that sort of stuff but I did it to keep,from suffering. i . “If, I'd so much. as’ eat meat or po- tatoes my stomach would cramp me , Nearly to death, and I would. bloat up jand sometimes it ‘would be hours be- fore I'd get ease from the pain. Of | nd rkénjhatism) fas I'm/seventy-four iow, but I had always been strong and (hearty and ‘1 just hated to give up {Rope- T took’ all sorts’ of medicines but nothing ‘seemed todo me! any | good at all aid 1 was right on! the tdoint of giving up wien I heard what |'Panlac had done for people in Peoria, and surrounding towns. [ know a lot ot people about here and some of j them told, me | ought to take it. [ ; Was ina pretty bad shape sure enough j but after all I had heard about Tan- int thought I'd take just one more {chance and so | bought\a bottle. | “Well, sir, that first bottle [ took ade me sleep better and kept my tomach from hurting me when I ate, nd seemed to put more life into me than I had 1 for a long time. I ‘could tell right away that it was do- ing the work for me and 1 had the boy get three more bottles and they did me: so much good 1 just. couldn't help (but go: out /and'-do: a ‘littlé work around the place “and''1 began’ ‘to: eat just like 1 used tovatd I could sleop like a log and my stomach didn’t hurt me at all; in fact, 1 found that 1 could jeat just anything without being both- ered and the rheumatism in: my’ legs jeased up so 1 made up my mind to tick to Tanlac, because I know it’s | going to rid me of that trouble. I've bought six bottles and I shall always bless the day 1 got that first bottle of Tanlac and [ want all my. friens to know what it has done forme and they know I'm not the sort to put my name back of anything that isn’t just right.” Tanlac is sold in Bismarck by Jos. Breslow.—Advt.. Clarain this Great Picture" 20c