The Bismarck Tribune Newspaper, October 26, 1921, Page 2

| PAGETWO 1 ’ WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 26 ° BLINDED HERO WINS HONORS \ Becomes Student and Gains | University: Degrees and } RUSSIA MUST ‘BE BOILED OUT. SAYSASTUDEN What Can Be Doné to Revive In-| ioe dustry in Nation is Upper- By N. E. A. Service, z ; Cambridge, M Oct, 26.—If an ex- most Now | ploding German shell had doomed you to blindness, could you drive the blues Tiflis, Oct. 26.— ae staff corres-|@W4y and set yourself tio accomplish- is Oct 2. -(By a alaft corres |ing scholastic wonders? pondent of The Associatéd Press)—| tuy Envin, soldier of France, . poet, The question uppermost in the minds| scholar and optimist, has done these of all visitors to Russia is: “What| things. ‘He is the first winner of the + can be done to revive Russia’s broken | Victor, E. Chapman scholarship at down economic and industrial situa-| Harvard, founded for French youths tion?” The writer put that query to| who gave promise of leadership in a Russian-American Jew who had just; the ‘field of learning, by the father of befriended him during an altercation | Victor iE. Chapman, ‘Harvard ’13, killed with a Red guard over the corres- pondent’s right to occupy a seat in a train jammed _to overflowing, during! the trip from Batum to Tiflis. | The friendly Jew, a high official in} the Soviet of Georgia, sent here from | Moscow tio carry out in some degree | the latter’s plans, sat down in the | crowded compartment and _talked| about ‘Russia from his point of.view. {| “Russia’s got to be boiled out, that’s all,” he explained. “The process may take 20 years but when it's finished there'll be but two great speoples on} earth, Russians and the Americans. And they'll be as like as twin broth- ers, both rich in agricultural and in mineral wealth. “What Russia now’needs is factory products, trained engineers. tio « put her on her feet, to help set to work ber mines and whoever gets in'on that job is bound to make big, fortunes, “The next and ithmediate need of Russia is education, The Soviet is trying to do that. Every man in the Red Army is taught to read and write. But the job is a difficult ine. ’’Under the old regime, education was dis- couraged, The people were exploited by ‘the wealthy and educated few.” This keen Russian-American told of himself and his present needs. He was earning a big salary, 100,000 rubles a month, exactly one dollar at the present rate of exchange and enough to keep his family going for about a day. The rest, the millions of rubles necessary for the other days, he made by speculation, by shrewd practices for which he would be shet if they were known. But it was either that or starvation. His wife lay ill in Batum with malaria and a tablet of quinine, or one dose, cost 20,000 rubles and bad quality at that. Also, his only son ‘had tuber- culosis as a result of underfeeding and; medicines at, prohibitive prices were required. Was this man satisfied with the ‘Soviet regime? Of course not. He had worked hard for it for three yeurs, to keep going, he hid held all sorts of jobs that required high intelligence and he considered the crowd in Mos- cow a lot of fools. Up to 1916, he had been in America, had bis three automobiles and a big importing agency, owned his home in Brooklyn still, but he had been caught in the revolution and couldn't get out. ‘So he was helping in the boiling out process, He's goikg to stick on be- cause he can make his fortune back, ‘He hated the old aristocratic class because they tried to have everything for themselves, because theirs was a} system that led to laziness, drunken- ness ahd “non-production and finally the ‘extinction of thcir class in the grand crash of ruinous revolution. All the good he could think td say for the Soviet was that it had tried hard. For one thing it had knocked out alcohol. Yes, that was one of the troubles of old Russia, Too much} drink, among all classes. In Georgia where we were, there was still plenty | to drink but toward. Mpscow drink thinned out until none was to be had. There was lots of thievery—the cor- respondent, had best look out for his pockets and his baggage—but to be caught stealing meant execution. Another excellent institution of fhe Soviet was the Red Army, yes, that was a thing to be proud of. Discipline was fine." "It was better than the ‘Czar's army. Now only men up to 24 wete ‘enrolled. There’ were five mil- lion of them—a_ great force to be reckoned with. Whuld the United States come in and help Russia? This thought was uppermost in his'mind. He hoped so. ‘He wanted to get back to America for a time to get some money together. Then he would return and make his! fortune. He had taken out his, first | papers years ago but his business in ‘Kussia had/ prevented his taking out the second papers. His wife-was from | ‘Philadelphia. Born there. So was his son. It would take $1,000 to get back to the United States, which meant | 100,000,000 rubles, Speculate as he/ might, he could never get together | such a sum. Maybe he might arrange to be sent over on ~a commission, when \Moscow git the Americans to! accept the trade idea. Just now he had $5 in American money—500,000 tubles—which he had given his wife as a birthday present. | ‘Well, one had to make the best of | things in RusSia. One got used to makeshifts. He was Supposed to have a private car, but it was in the repair | shop and tonight he was sleeping on the floor of the car we were in. He} couldn't find a seat and was giad, of | the floor space. Thousands had been! left at the station in Batum, waiting! for ayother train. | ——————————— ——ooaaaa You're bilious! Take “Cascarets” to- night to thoroughly clean your bowels of the constipation poison i chy, half-sick cathartic or ‘ or moves clog- ged-up bowels so Cascarets cost only ten cents: a box. | i | which is} BO ta tox. in action while flying over Verdun. Envin will study international law at the Harvard Law School. He is the son of a professor in a small town in Northern France. Like many, other youths, he spent most. of his time seeking fun and thought study a bore. Two Benefits “T needed discipline,” he said, “and I got it in the army. I needed some great shock to arouse me to the seri- ousness of life. +I got that, too—in the World War.” ‘Envin joined the 110th Regiment on the line on Nov, 1, 1913. A When the World War came, he took part in the first heroic resistance to the German® hordes that poured into Belgium. He fought at the Marne, Aisne and Champagne. ‘ ; , Then came Beausejour,, His com- manding officer called for a volunteer to carry a message back to the sup- porting forces. Envin sprang for- ward, Receives 30 Wounds He climbed to the parapet just, as a Boche shell burst 45 feet before him, and fell horribly . wounded in 30, dif- ferent places. si Months later, ‘Envin was discharged from the hospital. On his breast were the Cross of the Legion of ‘Honor, the Medaille Militaire, and the Croix de Guerre with palm. Greatest of all, however, was a de- termination in his aeart to make good, jthough blinded! He studied the Braille system. A (By Hermann Hagedorn, in the Outlook Magazine) Between the prairie lands of North Dakota and the prairie lands of Mon- tana there is a narrow strip of broken country so wild and’ fantastic in its beauty that it seems as though some unholy demon had carved it to mock the loveliness of the creations of ‘God. On both sides of a sinuous river rise ten thousand buttes cut into biz- arre shapes by the waters of .count- less centuries. The hand of man never dared to paint anything as those hills are painted. Olive and lavender, buff, brown, and dazzling white mingle with emerald and flaming scarlet to make a piece of savage splendor that is not without an element of the ter- rible.. The buttes are stark and bare. Only in the clefts are ancient cedars, starved’ and deformed. In spring there are patches of green gr awn acre here, a hundred acres there, reaching up the slopes from ‘4e level bottom-land; but there are regions where for miles and miles ao green thing grows, and all creation secnis a witch’s caldron of ‘gray bubbles tongued with flame, held by some bit of black art forever in suspension That wild country is:the Bad Lands of North Dakota. The treacherous riv- er that runs through it from south to north is, the Little Missouri, and on its banks 35. years ago Theodore Roosevelt had his ranches. \He came to the Bad Lands for the first time in the fall of 1883. At that time there was a little hamlet on the west bank of the river,-called Little Missouri, a terrible place, which was the refuge of the wicked for the whole Northwest. It was through Little Mis- souri that the “underground railway” of the horse thieves ran from the In- dian reservations in what is now South Dakota to the Canadian border. The wilderness of tangled ravines that is the. Bad Lands furnished impenetrable hiding-places for stolen herds of horses. No sheriff dared to penetrate it; most of the officers of the law roundabout found it safer and more profitable indeed to “go into cahoots” with the thieves. The “town” of Little Missouri died shortly after ‘Roosevelt came to the region, when a romantic Frenchman named Antoine de Vallambrosa, Mar- quis de Mores, founded a town of his own on the opposite ‘bank. and named it, Medora, after his wife. There the rash and hot-blooded nobleman built a great packing plant. He had,an idea that by slaughtering cattle on. the range he could crowd the Chicago meat packers out of the Northwest. lHe spent untold sums of muney, atid failed, after all, for he was a dreamer Vincent A: Tiled walls, ceiling dnd floor. Porcelain troughs. _ Big. windows. heat.is forced through holes in the ceiling, own “overth~ backs* of the cows — just like the sun’s warmth. They . Ady. {are milked by hand. SCORES. IN‘ WAR AND PEACE GUY ENVIN, Blinded French Sol- .dier, who wins honors as scholar. few months later he succeeded in passing his examinations for the de- gree of Bachelor of Philosophy. Two years later he qualified, with Lionor for the dcsree of Licencie en Philosophie, and in June, 1913, he ranked first among 80 candidates for a law degree. Then came the high honor which brought him to Harvard. His Ambition “I want to be able to/save enought money to enable me to travel and lec- ture to my blinded comrades,” he says, “to try tio inspire them with the same determination to succeed which has inspired me. “There is a wonderful feeling of satisfaction in, having made a great sacrifice for oné’s country. True, I cannot see many of the beauties of the world, but it is equally true that 'T cannot see many of its miscues. I HISTORY AND LORE OF BAD LANDS ‘think I an the happiest man alive.” without practical experience and ¢the packers were too canny fot him. He assisted in the killing of a man from ambush -early in his career in the Bad Lands, for as one of his cow- punchers remarked long afterwards, “the Marquis was a little blood- thirsty now and then;” and he chal- lenged Roosevelt to a duel ion one occasion, but.when Roosevelt chose as the weapons Winchesters at twelve paces the Marquis backed down as gracefully ashe could. “Roosevelt: had two ranches on the banks of the Little Missouri—the Chimney Butte, popularly known as the Maltese Cioss, situated seven miles south of Medora, and Elkhorn Ranch, some 28 miles north. At the himney Butte, Sylvane Ferris and A. 'W. Merrifield, two stalwart Canadians, were his foremen; and at Elkhorn he ,had two backwoodsmen from Maine in charge, ‘William W. Sewall, still hale today at 77, and Wilmot Dow.’ He “ran” some 3,500 head of cattle on his two ranges, and was,on the way to making a,moderate fortune when the devastating winter of 1886-7 descend- ed upon the Bad Lands and practically destroyed the cattle industry there. Roosevelt lost more than half his herd. What remained he “ran on shares” for ten years longer; but he never recovered the money he had lost. The things which Roosevelt gained | in the Bad Lands, however, were in- ceémparably more valuable to him than dollars. He gained the robust consti- tution which did him valiant service in more than one éxacting political campaign; and, even more important, he gained an understanding of the psychology of the common man,, which gave him an extraordinary, advantage in’ public life over. men who had view- ed humanity all their lives through | plate-glass_ windows. The Bad Lands, have countless points of association with Roosevelt. His ranch-houses are both gone, but the sites are clearly marked, and in the case of ‘Elkhorn, at. least, the heavy foundation stones, set by the strong arms of Sewall and Dow, are still in place, The trees that shaded the ranch-house still stand. The Lit- tle Missouri flows silently’ past, be- neath high banks; there is no lovelier spot in the Bad Lands. “The ranch-house,” Roosevelt says in his “Autobiography,” “stood on the brink of a low bluff overlooking, the broad, shallow. bed of the Little Mis- souri, through which at, most: seasons. there ran only a trickle’ of water, while in time of.freshet it was filled brimful with’ the boiling, foaming, muddy torrent. There was no neigh- VINCENT ASTOR’S LUXURIOUS COW BARN r has provided well for the comfort of his Jersey cows at “Ferncliff,” his New York country estate. Electric. light: day in its bed fixed and immovable as EDITH ST, CLAIR CRIPPLED Broadway Favorite of a Few Years Back Is Ward y of Charity “ (By Alice Rohe) New York, Oct. 26—In the Bruns- wick Home at Amityville, L. I, a moth with wings broken ‘and singed with futile beating against the dazzling lights of Broadway is dying. One doesn’t have to be an oldtimer to remember the clever dancing and singing soubrette, Edjth St. Clair, fea- tured with “The White Cat,” “Mother Goose” and “The Great Mogul.” Few women in America have had more first-page stories than this for- gotten favorite, ‘(For a suit ‘brought by her against a famous manager for breach of contract thrust her into pub- licity, After the trial she sought positions in vain.. Then she broke both knee- caps in a fall, “Last year,” said Edith St. Clair, a strangely changed creature in her wheeled chair, from the once charm- ing and graceful dancing soubrette, ‘‘a friend found me in the Home for In- curables, penniless. “She interested her friends and without any publicity, raised a tem- porary fund. “When I knew that Blanche Bates, Marjorie Rambeau, Anne Sutherland, ‘Wm, Courtney and others, as well as several companies replied to the plea, just knowing that they rem nbered me, was happiness, “Then the Actors’ Fund was in ested in me and brought me here. For those who look for the law of contrasts, Edith St. Clair gan her stage career in a play called “A Round of Pleasure.” Rhee bor for ten or fifteen miles on either side of me. The river twisted down in long curves between narrow bottoms bordered by sheer cliff walls, for the Bad Lands, a chaos of peaks, pla- teaus, and ridges, rose abruptly trom the edges of, the level, tree-clad, or gressy, alluyial meadows. In front of the ranch-house Veranda was a row of cottonwood trees with gray-green leaves which quivered all day long if there was a breath ; of From these trees came the far: y melan- choly cooing of mourning doves, and little owls perched! in them and called tremulously at night. In the long sum- mer afterncons we would sometimes sit on the piazza, when there was no work to be done, for an hour or two at a time, watching the cattle on the sand-bars and the sharply channeled and strangely carved amphitheater of cliffs across the bottom oprisite; while the vultures wheeled overhead, their black shadows gliding across the glaring white of the dry river bed. Sometimes from the ranch we saw deer, and once When we needed meat I shot one across the river as I stood on the piazza. In the winter, in the days of iron cold, when everything ‘was ‘write under*the*snow,’the river 2 bar of bent steel, and then at night wolves and lynxes traveled up and down it as if it/had been a highway passing in front of the ranch-house. Often in the late fall or early winter, after a hard,day’s hunting, or when returning from one of the winter lino camps, we did not reach the ranch until hours after sunset; and after the weary tramping in the cold it was a keen pleasure to catch the first red gleam’ of the fire-lit windows across the snowy wastes.” The site of the -Ghimney Butte ranch has none of the enticing charm of.the green bottom where Elkhorn used to be, ‘but the hong sage-brush flat, sloping on the east in green mea- dows to the gray buttes, and on the west running level to the cottonwoods on the river bank, has a quiet beauty of its own. A mile to the north of the Maltese Cross Bottom is Picket Butte, at whose base Custer camped on his ill- fated expedition to the Little. Big Horn. It was .a favorite bottom for round-ups in Roosevelt’s day. A mile or two to the south is the flat which was the scene of the stampede graph ically descriked by Roosevelt in his “autobiography.” The cut-bank over which he plunged in the darkness that night is unchanged. Roosevelt had a great love for tWe wild country, where, in a very real sense, he. first “found himself.” “I grow very fond of this place.” he wrote his sister, Anna, in June, 1884, in a hitherto unpublished letter, “and it certainly has a desolate, grim beau- ty of its own. that has. a curious fa: cination for me. The grassy, scanti wooded bottoms through which the winding river flows are bounded by bare jagged, buttes; their fantastic shapes and sharp, steep edges throw the most curious shadows, under the cloudless, glaring sky; and at evening 1 Jove to sit out in front of the hut and see their hard, gray outlines grad - ually grow soft and purple as the flaming sunset by degrees softens and dies away; while my days I spend ‘generally alone, riding: through the WARRANT | Electrically distributed steam HE’S A BROKEN BUTTERFLY EDITH ST. CLAIR lonely rolling prairie and broken lands.” To his friend Henry Cabot Lodge he wrote a few weeks later: “T heartily enjoy this life, with its perfect freedom, for, 1 am very fond o hunting, and there are few sensation: I prefer to that of galloping ver these | rolling, limitless prairies, rifle in hand, or, winding my way among the barren, | fantastic, ‘and grimly picturesque des- erts of the so-called Bad Lands.” The winter of 1886-7, which killed the cattle industry. in the valley of the Little Missouri, scattered to the four winds the hardy men who were A small dose of Dr. Caldwell’s Syrup Pepsin will bring , quick relicf. OTHER, when one of the children is constipated are you going to give the first lax- ative within reach? It is dan- gerous to do so. Some have been’ known to rupture the intestines of little children. Don’t be beguiled by. the out- side sugary appearance. Look into. the formula. Calomel is seldom necessary; salts, minerals, coal tar, never! Unlike these, Dr; Caldwell’s Syrup Pepsin is admirable for children, as it is for grown people. too. Mothers have ecn giving it to children for 30 years. They know it does not gripe, and is free from narcotics. The formula is on every package, and you ‘can see itis vegetable, just a com- bination of Egyptian Senna andy other laxative Perbs with pep- sin. Use it yourself. and you FOR A CONSTIPATED CHI as ase the ant tothe al aoe TT | cowboys. with Theodore Roosevelt. | place of pilgrimage | The old picturesque life has vanished. | Medora: sleeps through the years and i dreams of other days. Schuyler Lebo, | who was shot by the Indians, delivers ;the mail; “‘Nitch” Kendley, who rode the ranges with Roosevelt as a cow- j Puncher, operates the pump for the ; water-tank at the railway station; an 'cctogenarian called “Frenchy,” who | hunted with Roosevelt and has lost his j wits, plays cribbage all day long at the (Rough Riders Hotel. These three ‘men are all that remain ofthe gay ag- |gregation that once made life a revel fat the “depot” and at Bob Pibert's {saloon. And yet, even in its desola- |tion, as the cook of the Rough ers ‘Hotel remarked, ‘“Theve’s something {fascinating about the blinkety-blank | Place. I don’t know why I stay here, j but I do.” | ‘The truth is that the Bad Lands are still the Bad Lands, except that the !unfenced prairics are fenced now and jon each bit of parched bottwm-land a '“nester” has his cabin and struggling, ‘generally in vain, to dig a living out ‘of the soil in a region which God never ‘made for farming. The tfeacherous | Little Missouri is treacherous still; here and there a burning mine still sends a tenuous wisp toward the blue | Sky: the buttes have lost none of their | wild magnificence; and dawn and i dusk, casting long shadows acrnss the heartrending icculees, reveal the old i loveliness, | iFolks in motor cars whir through it jell in a cloud of dust and see nothing but the obvious grotesquery of a few deformed cedars by the roadside or a huge slab of limestone balanced pre- cariously on some sharply upthrust arm of rock. The region should be a for gthousands every yeer, for the sake of whet it meant in the life-of Roosevelt'and for its own wild and exhilarating beauty. Some day the multitudes will discover it. Meanwhile it waits, grim, fantas- tic, magical. STOP DISEASE Coughs,colds,sp2smodiccroup, whooping cough, la grippe. and bronchial cough should sgceive, imme: diate treatment, or more dangerduis stcke ness may result, Don’tdelay. Foley’s Honey and: Tar - undisputedly the best knowa end most successful cough medicine on the market. It’s wholesome and safe; ro better remedy known, Jokn Vognue, Elberton, Ga., writes this: “I took a most severe cold and coughed night and day. My throat-felt as though the sx.n had been torn out. I used Foley's Hon My condition began to improve at ox a teow days 4 Wes 68 Woll us over.”” FOR RENT AMERICAN LEGION HALL For dances, parties, sociables. Kitchen in connection. For dates call W. A. Sather. Tel. 808. ind Tar; aud in A Mys Can you name it). tery Ca Here is another new Royal Cake, so delicious and appetizing that we have been unable to give, it a name that does justice to its unusual qualities. It can be made just right only with Royal Baking Powder. Will you make it ‘and name it? $500 for the For the name selected as best, we will pay $250. For the sec- ond, third, fourth, and fifth choice, we will pay $100, $75, $50, and $25 respectively. Anyone may enter the contest, , but only one name from each person will be considered. All names must be received by : December 15th, 1921. In case of ties, the full amount of the prize will be given to each tying con- testant. Do not send your cake. Simply send the name you sug- gest, with your own name and. address, to the \ ROYAL BAKING POWDER COMPANY 120 William Street, New York How to make it Use level measurements for all materials gun shortening 1 s Sugar Grated rind of % orange is CH yolk cups flour . 4 teaspoon s Royal Baking Powder icup (1% 021) of 2 mretened chocolate (melted) “orange tind. Add © shortening. Add sugar and ¢- Cream shortening. suf Se al Hating beaten exg yolks.” Sift together ‘flocs, Powder and add alternately with the i lastly fold in one beaten egg white. Divide batter into two parts, To one part add the chocolate. Put by tablespoonfuls, alternating dark and light batter, into three greased layer cake pans. Bake in moderate oven 20 minutes. y FILLING AND ICING 3 tablespoons melted butter 2 tablespoons orange juice 3 cups confectioner’s sugar 1 egg white {Powdered sugarmay be used but 3 squares (3 o7s.) does not make as smooth icing) unsweetened chocolate Grated rind of 4 orange and pulp of 1 orange * Put butter, sugar, orange juice and rind into bowl. Cut pulp from orange, removing skin and seeds, and add. Beat all together uatil smooth. Fold in beaten egg white. Spread this icing on layer used for top of cake. While icing is soft, sprinkle with unsweetened chocolate shaved in fine pieces with sharp knife (use 4 square). To remaining icing add 214 squares unsweetened chocolate which has been melted, Spread this thickly between layers and on sides of,