Evening Star Newspaper, January 13, 1924, Page 64

THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, b. C., JANUARY 13, 1924—PART 3. Hunting With Bow and Arrow Most Exhilarating of Experiences Out of the Past ITTLE does the public as a whole realize that the bow and arrow has returned to the land, not merely as a bouyant sport, but for serious and even dangerous hunting. Dr. Saxton Pope, an eminent surgeon of San Franclsco, the author of the fol- lowing article and two others to suc- ceed it, has, with his companions In arcticry, performed some amazing feats in California and the Rocky mountains against deer, black ixar, panthers and even grizzlies. " Dr. Pope, besides having achleved note as a practitioner and member of the faculty of the medical school of the University of California, is one of the leading exponents of archery in the country. And although he says that the love of archery is an fmpulse which lies dormant in the heart of every American, the initla- tion of Dr. Pope himself into this anclent, fascinating pursult was both remarkable and dramatic. He learned it from literally “the last wild Indlan in America™; from the last primitive Indian archer who was gaining his living with the bow and arrow, and who was discovered in California in the year 1911. This was Ishl, only surviving member of the Yana tribe. Dr. Pope, with others, befriended Ishi, obtained some small employment for him at the univer- sity, attempted to impart to him some urderstanding of civilization, and In turn, to learn from him some of his fmmemorial wisdom of the hills. “He knew nothing of our modern life” writes Dr. Pope. “He had no name for iron, nor cloth, nor. horse, nor road. He was as primitive as the aborigines of the pre-Columbian period. In fact, he was a man In the stone age. He was absolutely untouched by civilization. In him sclence had a rare find. He turned back the pages of history countless centuries. And so they studied him, and he studled them. “He knew the history and use of everything in the outdoor world. He spoke the language of the animals. He taught me to make bows and ar- rows, how to shoot them, and how to hunt Indian fashion. He was a wonderful companion in the woods, and many days and nights we jour- neyed together. ‘Hunting with Ishi was pure joy. Bow In hand, he seemed to be trans- formed Into a being light as alr and as silent as falllng snow. From the very first we went on little expedi- tions into the country, where, with- out appearing to Instruct, he was my teacher in the old, old art of the chase. “But in spite of the fact that Ishi was happy and surrounded by the most advanced material culture, he sickened and died. Unprotected by hereditary or acquired immunity, he eontracted tuberculosis and faded away before our eyes. “He was a stolc, unafraid, and died in the faith of his people. “As an Indian should go, we sent him on his long journey to the land of shadows. By his side we placed his fire sticks, ten pleces of dentalla or Indian money, a small bag of acorn meal, a bit of dried venison, some tobacco and his bow and arrows. “And so departed the last wild In- dian of America. With him the neolithic epoch terminates. He closes & chapter in history. He looked upon us as sophisticated children—smart, but not wise. We knew many things and much that is false. ;He knew mature, which is always true. ‘He has gone and he hunts with his people. We stay, and he has left us the heritage of the bo By SAXTON POPE EER are the most beautiful animals of the woods. Thelr grace, polse, agility and alert- ness make them a lovely and inspiring sight. To see them feed un- disturbed is wonderful; such mincing steps, such dainty nibbling is a lesson in culture. With wide, lustrous eyes, nioblle ears ever listening, with moist, sensitive nostrils testing every vagrant odor in the air, they are the embodi- ment of hypersensitive self-preserva- tion. . The first buck 1 ever landed with the bow thrilled me to such an extent that every detail is memorable. After a long, hard morning hunt I was returning to camp alone. It was nearly noon; the sun beat down on the pungent dust of the trail, and all nature scemed sleepy. The air, heavy with the fragrance of the pines, bardly stirred. 1 was walking wearily along think- ing of food, when suddenly my outer visual fields picked up the {mage of a deer. 1 stopped. There, elghty yards away, stood a three-year-old buck, | grazing under an oak. His back was toward me. 1 erouched and sneaked nearer. My arrow was nocked on the string. The distance I measured carefully with my eye; it was now sixty-five yards. Just then the deer raised its head. I let fly an arrow at its neck. It flew between its horns. The deer gave a sirtled toss to its head, listened a second, then dipped its crest again to feed. I nocked another shatt. As it raised its head again I shot. This arrow flew wide of the neck, but at the right elevation. The buck now was more startled and jumped so that it stood profile to me, looking and listening. I dropped upon one kn A little rising ground and interven- ing brush partially concealed me. As I drew & third arrow from my quiver its barb caught in the rawhide, and I swore & soft vicious oath to ateady my nerves. Then, drawing my bow earefully, lowering my sim and hold- ing like grim death. I shot & beauti- ful released arrow. It sped over the tops of the dried grasa seeming to skim the gronud like a bird, and struck the deer full and hard in the cheat. The b leaped, bounded oft some thirty yards, staggored, drew back its head and wilted in the hind legs. I had stayed immovable as wood. Seeing him failing, I ran swiftly forward, and almost on the run at forty yards 1 drove @ second arrow through his heart. The deer died instantly. Conflicting emotions of compassio: and exultation surged through me and 1 felt weak, but I ran to my quarry, lifted his head on my knee and in the name of Robin Hood. Yet while the object of deer hunt- Ing Is to get your deer, it does seem that some of our keenest delight has been when we have missed it. Out of the qulet purple shadow of the forest one evening there stepped the most stately buck I ever saw. His noble crest and carriage were superb. On a grassy hillside, some hundred and fifty yards away, he stood, broad- side on. With a rifle the merest tyro might have bowled him over. In fact, he looked just like the royal stag In the picture. * o k¥ WO of us were together. underbrush shielded us. We drew our Lows, loosed the arrows, and off they flew. The flight of an arrow is 2 beautiful thing—it is grace, har- mony and perfect geometry all in one. They flew and fell short. The deer only looked at them. We nocked again and shot. This time we dropped them just beneath his belly. He Jumped forward a few paces and stopped to look at us. Slowly we reached for a third arrow, slowly nocked and drew it, and away it went, whispering In the air. One grazed his withers, the other plerced him through the loose skin of the brisket and flew past. ‘With an upward leap, he soared away In the woods, and we sent our blessing with him. His wound would heal readily—a mere scratch. We picked up our arrows and returned to camp to have bacon for supper, perfectly happy. Upon another occasion I came abrutly upon a doe and a buck in a deep ravine. It was open season, and we needed camp meat. Gauging my distance carefully, I shot at the buck, striking him in the flank. For the first time in my life I heard an adult deer bleat. He gave an involuntary exclamation, whirled, but since he knew not the location or the nature of his danger, he did not run. My hound was working higher up in the canyon, but he heard the bleat, when, llke a wild beast, he came charging through the under- growth and hurled himself with ter- rific force upon the startled deer. bearing him to the ground. There was a flerce struggle for a brief mo- ment, in which the buck wrenched himself free from the dog's hold upon his throat and with an effort lunged down the slope and eluded us. Be- cause of the many deer trails and because the hound wws unused to following deer, night fell before we could locate him. Next day we found the dead buck, but the lions had left little meat on his bones—in fact, it seemed that a veritable den of these animals had feasted on him, The striking picture in my mind today 1s the flerceness and the sav- age onslaught of my dog. Never did I suspect that the amiable, gentle pet of our fireside could turn into such an overpowerin indomitable killer. His assault was absolutely bloodthirsty. I've often thought how grateful I should be that such an animal was my friend and companion in the hunt and not my pursuer. How quickly the dog adjusts him- self to the bow! At first he is afraid of the long stick. But he soon gets the idea and not walting for the de- tonation of the gun, he accepts the hum of the bowstring and the whirr of the arrow as signals for action. Some doge have even shown a tend- ency to retrleve our arrows for us, and nothing suits them better than that we go on foot and by their sides can run with them and with our silent shafts can lay low what they bring to bay. In fact, it is & perfect balance of power—the hound with his wondrous nose, lean flanks and tireless legs; the man with his human reason, the horn and his bow and arrow. In all we have shot about thirty deer with the bow. The majority of these fell before the shafts of Will Compton, while Arthur Young and I have contributed {n & smaller meas- ure to the count. Despite the vague regrets we alwaya feel at slaying so beautiful an animal, there Is an ex- ultation about bringing into camp a haunch of, venison, or hanging the deer on the limb of a sheltering tree, there to cool near the icy spring. By the glows of the camp fire we broil savory loin steaks, and when done eating we sit in the gloaming and watch the stars come out. Great Orion shines in all his glory, and the hunters’ moon rises golden and full through the ski A little t Ancient Skill Revived in Following Trail of Swift, Silent Deer and Seeking Haunts of Dan- gerous Bear—Writer Describes Sensation Produced by Facing Bruin for First Time Without Protection of Iron Bars and Cage—Compassion Combined With Exultation When Arrow Wounds Deer—Bringing Bears to Bay as in Days of Primitive Sport. Drowsy with happiness, we nestle down in our sleeping bags, resting on a bed of fragrant boughs, and dream of the eternal chase. * ok k¥ ILLING bears with the bow and arrow Is a very old pastime; in fact, it ranks next in antiquity to killing them with a club. However, it has faded so far into the dim realms of the past that it seems al- most mythical. The bear has stood for all that is dangerous and horrible for ages. No doubt, our ancestral experiences with the cave bears of Europe stamped the dread of these mighty beasts indellbly in our hearts. The American Indians in times gone past killed them with their primitive weapons, but even they have not done it lately. so it can be considered & lost art. Bear storles often tend to give one the idea that these beasts can be petted and made trustworthy com- panions. In fact, certain sentimental devotees of nature foster the senti- ment that wild animals need naught but kindness and loving thoughts to become the bosom friend of man, Such sophists would find that they had made & fatal mistake if they could carry out their theories. The old feud between man and beast still exists and will exist until all wild life {s exterminated or is semi-domesti- cated in game preserves and refuges. Even domestic cattle allowed to run wild are extremely dangerous. Their fear of man breeds their desperats assault when cornered. ‘The black bear has and will kili men when brought to bay or woundea or even feels ftself cornered. Having graduated from grouna squirrels, quail and rabbits, and hav- ing laid low the noble deer, we Whe shoot the bow became presumptuous and wanted to kill bear with our weapons. . So, learning of a certain admirable hunter up in Humboldt county of the name of Tom Murphy, ‘we wrote to him with ou® propasal. He was taken with the idea of the bow and arrow and invited us to join him In some of his winter excursions. One November day we arrived in the little village of Blocksburg., on the outskirts of which was Murphy’s ranch. ¥k ¥ x Y sunrise of the first nprning of our hunt, in the company of Mur. phy, & quiet-spoken, intelligent man, we reached the ridge back of the de- sired spot, where we tied Qur horses preparatory to climbing up the gulch. The dogs were made ready; there were thres of them. Murphy un- clasped the chains that linked them together and they scampered up the precipitous ravine before us. As they passed, Tom pointed out bear tracks, the first we had seen. In less than ten minutes the full- throated bay of the hounds told us that they had struck a hot track and routed the bear from his temporary den. That was the signal for speed, and we began a desperate race up the side of the mountain. Nothing but pe fect physical health can stand such a strain. One who is not in athletic training will either fall completely in the test or do his heart irreparable damage, But we were fit; we had trained for the part. Stripped for action, we were dressed In hunting breeches, light high-topped shoes spiked on the soles, in llght cotton shirts and carried only our bows, quivers of arrows and hunt- ing knilves. Tom was a seasoned mountain climber, born on the crags, and had knees like a goat. So we ran. Up the side and over the crest we sped. The bay of the hounds pealed out with évery bound ahead of us. As we crossed the ridge we heard them down the canyon below us. The crashing of the bear and the cry of the dogse thrilled us with a very old and a very strong flood of emotions. Panting and flushed with effort, we rushed onward; le legs, and more air, 'twas all we wanted. Tom Is tough and used to.altitudes. Young is stronger and more youthful than I am, and, besides a flapping quiver and unwieldy bow, my camera banged me unmercifully on the back. Still I kept up very well, and my early sprinting on the cinder track came to my ald. We stuck together, but just as I had about declded that running was & physical impossibility! Tom shouted, “He is treed.” That was a welcome word. We slackened our pace, knowing that the dogs would hold him till we arrived, and we needed our breath for the next act. So on a trot we came over & rise of ground and saw, away up on the limb of a tall straight fir tree, a bear that looked very formidable and large. The golden rays of the rising sun were shining through his fur. That was the first bear I had ever Delicpcies of Orient: THREE very peculiar preparations of grape julce are known in Turkey. One consists of sheets Te- sembling leather, made by evaporat. Ing grape juice to the consisteney of molasses, then mixing flour with it and drying it en cotton cloth in the sunshine. Another is cakes half an inch thick, made by using coarse wheat grits instead of flour to mix with the grape molass and this 1s dried on ‘metal plates. A more savory preparation is made by stringing walnut meats on twine, and then immersing the atring thus formed in the mixture of flour and grape juice. When coated about a quarter of an inch thigk the strings are hung up to dry. 5 Peraian delicacies prepared for the traveler makp a direct appeal to the poetic side, And remind one of the feasts of fairyland. One of the most remafkable items in a feaat is a watermelon, eaten like an egg, one end being cut off, and the contents disposed of with a wooden speon, the rosy fluld trickling all the time to the bottom, and affording & bev- erage. Y As & mecond couree the Persians sometimes use cold fowl with alic of snake-cucumber. For side dishes, sour milk with chepped sage or rose leaves Is eaten With a pesr-wood spoon, or cucumber smothered in sour cream. For deasert the most easily pro- cured dainties are ‘prepared cream, or kaimak, flaked with s fresh almonds, ice rose wal tened with honey or rendered more frag- rant with the aroms of mountain thyme and wormwood. Many little additions compiete the poetic phase of the repast, as a “WITH A LEAP HE SOARED AWAY seen in the open, firet wild bear, first bear with no fron bars between him and me. I felt peculiar. The dogs were gathered beneath the tree, keeping up a chorus of yelps and assaulting its base as If te tear it to pleces. The bear apparently had no intention of coming down.’ We helped Tom catch his dogs and tie them with a rope which he held. He did this because he knew that if We wounded the bear and he descend- ed there was going to be a fight, and he didn't want to lose his valuable dogs in an experiment. He had his gun to take care of himself, and Young and I were supposed to stand our share of the adventure as best we could. * ok x * JCEEN with anticipation of unex- pected surprises; wondering, yet willing to take a chance, we pre- pared to shoot our first bear. We sta- tioned ourselves some thirty yards from the base of the tree. The bear was about seventy-five feet up in the alr, facing us, looking down and ex- posing his chest. Wo drew our arrows together and a second later released as one man, Away flew two shafts, side by side, and struck the beast in the breast, not six inches apart. Like a flash, they melted into his body and di appeared forever. He whirled, turned backward, and began sliding down the tree. Ripping and tearing the trunk, he cartload of shingles. Tom shouted, “You missed him, run up close and | shoot him again.” From his side of the tres he couldn’t see that our ar- rows had hit and gone through, and | he was used to seeing a bear drop when he hit one with a bullet. But we were a little diffident about running up close to a wounded bear, for Tom had told us it would fight when it got down. Neverthele nocked an arrow again, and just as THE WOODS.” he reached the ground we were close by to recelve him. We delivered two glancing blows on his rapidly falling body. When he landed, however, he selected the lower side of the tree, awny from us, and bounded off down the canyon. We protestod that we had hit him and begged Tom to turn his dogs loose. After a moment's deliberation, Tom let old Buck go and off he tore In hot pursuit. The shepherd was a wily old cattle dog and would keep out of harm. Soon we heard him barking and Murphy exclaimed incredulously, “He's treed again!” Button and Baldy, the two other dogs, were un- leaghed and once more we started our cross-country running. Through maple thickets, over rocky slides, down the wooded canyon ws gal- loped. Much sooner than we ex- pected, we came to our bear. Hard pressed, he had climbed a small oak and crouched out on a swaying limb, We could see that he was heaving badly, and was a very sick animal, His gaze was fixed on the howling dogs. Young and I ran in close and shot boldly at his swaying body Our arrows slipped through him like magic. One was arrested in its coursd as Is buried itself in his shoulder. Savagely he snapped it in two with his teeth, when another, driven by Young with terrific force, struck him above the eye. He weakened ~his hold, slipped backward, dropped from the bending 1imb and rolled over and over down the ravine. The dogs were descended almost as if falling, a shower of bark preceding him like a OBSERVE that a new controversy has broken out about the moving plotures. Somebody has just caleulated that in America 20,- 000,000 people attend the picture houses every day, and the public is aghagt. And even this figure, it seems, doesn’t include the Mexicans, the Lower Californians and, the Ca-~ nadians and the Esquimaux. It appears also that $50,000,000 of new capital 18 being put into moving pictures every year—either that or $50,000,000,000. It is freely stated that the moving pictures are four- fifths pifie and the other fifth poison, and that they are made up altogether of sex stuff, sob stuff, crime stuff, and hysteria and vanity all mixed up to- gether. I do not wish to take any personal part in this controversy. Indeed, as one who has made not one moving picture scenario, but hundreds of them, I should feel a delicacy in do- ing so. But it may be of interest to know just exactly low we scenario makers make seenarios. Perhaps 1 may be able to prove that even a moving pleture mgy move on a high plane. € The first thing that a writer has to do to make & scenario is to get a genera] topic or story. This is abso- webe on him in a rush, but he was dead by the time he reached the all denominations hiave come to in thousands and shed tears.’ Now the picture begins to spin and they show the familiar interior, called “The Spratt Mansion” well known also as “The Anstruther Res dence,” or “The De Kuyper Home. It stands for High Soclety, as seen in the movies. It has in it a weoden butler to take Bpratt's coat and stick each time he goes in and out, and a hundred-dollar housemaid, much prettier than Mras. Spratt.- Somewhere In ‘here put legenad: ‘Uohn Spratt, esthetic, Yempera- mental, a poet and a graduate of Oberlin College, is married to Gloria Spratt, hiz wife.” The picture ripples on. The Spratts at breakfast. Jack Spratt has a. manuscript poem spread in front of him. He keeps raising his eyes to the ceiling and nibbling lean bacon. This means that he is making up poetry. Gloria Spratt is eating fat pork with molasses in it. She comes over to kiss Spratt. He re- pulses her. She wants to -bite his ear, He won't let her. She tries to plek him up and hug him, but hé slips out of her arms and darts it in the lutely easy. There is no need to in- vent a new one; it is tmpossible, any- way. Opean any bhook of folklore or fairy tales or nursery rhymes—and you can plok them out like plums—yeu could seleat “Little Bo Peep,” or “Mother Hubbard,” or “Jack Spratt,” or any of them as the basi: Suppose we take “Jack Spratt.” The original text of the rhyme l | bunch of deliclous grapes, suspended-| runs: for an hour under the molstened trond of a date tree; figs served In cream, dates fried In olive oll, gr apricot papte dlssolved in fresh milk. Argon from the Air. HE atmosphers containe a tolera- T ably large percentage of srgon. It has therefore been found difficylt to extract it industrially in & suffi- clently pure state to be used in in- candescent lamps except at too great a cost. This is bec: it occupids an intermediate state between oxygen and nitrogen with regard to liquefae- tion, so that when the attempt is made to isolate it by fractional com- pression or distillation it -always passes over accompanied by the two former Fases The problem was, however, solved & short time ago In the following man. ner: There is made Use of an appa- ratus in which there is eliminated the nitrogen of the atmosphiers by means of liquid air. ,The residue con- sists of & liquid composed of oxygen and argon from which the argon is easily extracted by burning the mix- ture with the required proportion of hydrogen. In this way, by the most careful analysis, it ‘hes been found eaay to obtaln FaseOUs mixtures con- taining 75 to 30 per cent of argon and ouly 1 or 3 per cent of nitrogen; to- gether with the oxygen. . “Jaek Spratt could eat no fat, his wife could eat no lean, And so it was, between them both, they licked the platter clean.” That's the ground work to begin ‘The next thing is to find the name of the picture. That sts itself at once from the “The Platter of Lifa" or “Parted and United.” (4uthorized by the Board of Censors.) * ¥ x X AF‘TER that It is necessary to work: out the descriptive stuff that goes along with the title for advertising purposes. ‘This 1s where the higheat art ef moving picture making comes in. It is'done, more or less, like this; “Have you ever felt your husband turning cold? Cold ss the untasted bacon “upon the platter? Or .you— have you ever watched your wife srowing fat? Have you seen heér ex- pand hour by hour? If so, you must uot miss this new heart-throbbing, pulse-accelerating picture. In it you will #ee an esthetic, temperamental, lle-n-nun. ,man yoked to =a full~ Dblooded, double-chested woman, vis brating with the joy of cating by the pound. What” will happen? Can they do jt¥ $ It is & beautiful, wholesome ple- ture of modern life. The oclorgy ef out of the room. At this point the legend is put on the screen: : “This great big, vearning, full- blooded, overballasted woman Is not satisfled. Her love turns cold.” Mrs. Spratt, now cold, writing at a little table a telegram to & former lover. You can see the address, “William de Bulk, New York,". and the message is pyt onto the screen to read: “My marriage 15 a mistake. to me. This Is the point, I think, at which the clergy begin to weep. But be- fore they have time to weep much Come creek bottom. We clambered down and looked him over with awe. Then Young and I shook hands across the body of our first bear. [ * ok ok Ok INCE this, our malden bear, we have had various other encount- ers with bruin, Once while hunting mountain lions, we came upon the boiy of an angora goat recently killed by a bear, The ground was covered with his ungainly footprints. We set the dogs on the scent and off |they went, booming in hot pursuit. Running like wild Indians, Yobng and I followed by ear, bows ready strung and quivers held tightly to our sides. In less that ten minutes we burst Into a little open glade in the forest and saw up In a large ‘madrone tree a good sized cinnamon bear fretfully eyeing the dogs below. Wa drew our broadheads to the barb and drove two wicked shafts deep into his front. As it knocked backwards, the bear reared and threw himself down the slanting tree trunk. As he reached the ground, one of our dogs seized him by a hind leg and the two went flying past us within a couple of yards, the dog hanging on like grim death. Furiously, the other dogs fol- lowed and we leaped to the chase. This time the course of the hear was marked by a swath of broken brush. It dashed headlong through the forest regardless of obstruction Small trees in his way meant nothing to him; he ran over them, or If old and brittle, smashed them down. Into the densest portion of the woods he made his way. Not more than thre hundred yards from the spot he start- ed, he treed again. In an almost im- penetrable thicket of small cedars, the dogs sent up thelr chorus of barks. I dashed In, fighting my way free from restraining limbs, the bow and quiver holding me again and again. Young got stuck and fell behind, so that I came alone upon our bear at bay. He had mounted but a short dis- tance up a mighty oak and hung by his claws to the bark. I had run be- neath him before séeing his position. Instantly I recognized the danger of the situation and backed off, away from the tree, at the same time nock- ing an arrow on the string. I glanced about for Young, but he was detained, 80 I drew to the head and discharged my arrow right into the heart region of our beast, where it buried its polnt. Loosening his hold, the bear fell back- ward from the tree and landed on the nape of his neck. He was weak with mortal wounds, and even had he wanted to charge me, the combat could mot have pro- gressed far. But instantly the dogs were on him. Seizing him by the front and back legs, they dragged him around a small tree, holding him firmly in spite of his struggles, while he bawled like a lost calf. The din was terrific; snarling. snapping dogs, the crashing under brush, and the bellowing of bear madc the world hideous. It seemed that the pain of our arrows was nothing to him compared to his fear of the dogs and when he felt himself helpless in their power, his morale was complete- Iy shattered. It was soon over; hardly a minute elapsed before his resistless form lay still, and even the dogs knew he was dead. Altogether, bringing bears to bay is among the most thrilling experi- ences of life. It is a primitive sport and as such it stirs up in the huma breast the primordial emotions | men. The sense of danger, the bod exhaustion, the ancestral blood lust, the harkening bay of the hounds, ti awe of deep shadowed forest the return to an almost hand-to-c contest with the beast, call upon latent manhood that is rapldly disay- pearing in the process of civilization I hope there always will be bear 1o hunt and youthful adventurers chase them. (Copyright, 1924.) THE ARCHER'S HORN, WHICH, WITH THE FEATHER, ALSO HAS COME BACK WITH THE BOW AND ARROW. the scene changes with flip. A title is written: “Spratt in his study, dictates his poem to his stenographer, Clemen- tina Click.” Ha! ha! Do you notice his ste- rographer, as thin as a meridian of longitude, and with her hair in Cleo de Merode forehead flaps, and with eyes like a cow? Something will be doing here. = “The gentle girl, as thin as she is good, hangs on the poet’s words.”, - * x ok X HEN the picture changes again. Arrival of Willlam de Bulk. You see him buzz up in his motor. You see the wooden butler take his stick. Then you see him enter and greet Gloria. ‘Willtam! grown!" He has'a big face like a thug, but he must be all right, because the writing says: “The big, true-hearted man has come at once to the woman he had loved.” William takes Gloria Spratt away in his motor. It is made to look like an elopement, but if you follow it closely it is all in the same day. It has to be, or the. clergy would stop crying - ““Take me away, William. I want to forget. I want to plunge into the vortex of gayety.'" Willlam and Gloria in a restaurant eating beefsteak; wiid scene of gavety: Hawalilan orchestra; ginger ale; Greek waiters; gramaphones; all the fierce vortex of metropolitan life, Willlam tells the story of his life. You can see him do it in side picture “‘Yes, Gloria, after you left me, I married. But I grew stout, and my wife abandoned me to seek a more in- tellectual life than I could give he; a sudden How stout you have William is seen to bow his head in| grief. Then the picture changes to the Spratt mansion. s MODERN JACK SPRATT AND WIFE Stephen Leacock on ““The Platter of Life.” “Freed from the pressure of | wife's soclety, Spratt abandons self to his poetic dreams.” The picture spins. Spratt (at 10 writing a sonnet. Spratt in the garden of the Spratt mansion (11:30) readin the sonnets to his stenographer. Spra at lunch with his stenographer, read- ing the sonnet again. Ease and a tran- quil mind are changing him already. At 11:30 he is distinctly stouter tuau he was. At 1 p.am. he is quite fat. The scene changes. Gloria and Wil- lam at afternoon tea. (4 p.m.) “But even in the whirl of gavety this great blg, true-hearted, able-bodied woman cannot forget. She pines. Pictures of Mrs. Pratt pining. She is losing flesh. At 4 p.m., she is far less stout than she was at 3:30. At 4:30 it is still more noticeable. The plcture changes. Spratt with Clementina Click in the garden. He is reading her his sonnet for the tenth time. He is quite stout. Clemen- tina Click shows signa of restlessness. She rises and paces to and fro: ““‘Mr. Spratt, don’t read it any more. I have made a fatal mistake. I do not care for poetry as I thought T did. I left the best husband in the world to seek the intellectual life. I want it no longer.’ The plcture changes. Willlam and Gloria bestde the duck pond in Central Park (5:30 pm.). She Is now quite tall and thin, ““Willlam, I have done wrong. Even in this mad world of gayety, among these ducks, I cannot forget. Take me home. Concluding ‘scenes. Arrival of the motor at the Spratt mansion (6 p.m.. daylight-saving time). Entry of Wil- liam and Glorla. The Spratts meet. ‘They each weigh 150 pounds mow. They fall into one another's arms. She is his wife. “"Willlam, I have been wrong. Take me back.' " Mrs. Spratt leads them all to the supper table: “Come, we wil] eat the platter clean.” And the picture concludes with the legend: “And from the dead ashes of their past lives these renewed souls lift themselves into a higher being. W« resday, Thursday and Friday. All thix week."” (Copyright, 1024.) The Productograph. THE productograph i8 & recording instrument that -~ automatically registers the movements of any ma- ‘chine to which it may be attached. It will show the exact time the ma- chine started and stopped; how often it stopped during the duy, the dength of the stops and the variation of speed. Tt will record the output of a number of machines. One.of the instruments’ placed, in the office of x superinténdent or manager is con- nected by wires to switéhes placed on the machines {n the factory. When- ever & machine coinpletes one ormore operations, the switch makes a con- tact that draws a line-on the regis- tration chart in the office.