Evening Star Newspaper, March 15, 1925, Page 79

THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. .C, St. Patrick, as a Man of Miracles, T riumphed_ Over Druid Worshipers Stories About Ireland’s Great Leader, Handed Down by Biographer, Reveal Youthful Fig- BY THOMAS NE n snakes to of St he gen one R, & Patrick persistens has ded the most b human history th the fervor of leal the for HE\RY. all 4 true ahout picture Aistorte ot characters flashing fire warmth and for kindling « in “a of d P sons c lose who would know must journey world indeed. jeweled still when low over fire-hreathing in the misty emerges into legendry ul light. true T, ht wilderne: tion a finer St nto a very It was in the when Celtic by Druid uds of black magic Irish hills, and when dragons still prowled forests, that this man history. Over this world a dim, weird, beau- Pa mystic e Erit altars, throws Patrick was no snake- With a bagful of tricks, but of Christ in a mystical beset with novel tempta- Who left a fr nt path behind him. It to the unsophisticated pages of Muirchu's life Patrick written in 699 A.D. about 200 years after the saint's death. and to his own fragmentary writings that one must turn to get the real picture. Muirchu, the Celtic monk, writing when the memory of the Irish hero still was fresh among the people, cer- tainly has produced one of the most poetical works in church literature- almost every page illuminated and Jyrical with the reflected character of the man himself. Tt is a record of miracles. Muirchu dismisses the snakes with a brief mention. He devotes his manuscript to the more substantial wonderwork- ing of this man. But always he pre- Sents a very human character, a man who loved his fellows. not with- out his weaknesses, and to whom tr umph was not always an easy thing | \to accomplish. Out of these pages| Patrick emerges as a sort of latter- day St. John—always a youthful fig ure with « shining light ‘about him The picture of the saint @s a white-bearded old man seems al- Most a caricature after reading Muir- chu. It is true that he is solemnly pronounced to have lived to the-ad- Vanced age of 106—but I think he must always have remained in his twenties all those decades. It would bhave been no more of a miracle than | some others the monk relates, and it malkes Patrick stand truer to form For he was never the venerable coun- melor, but always the young war- Tloy of Christ. % is as hard to imagine St. Patrick | &n old man as to conjure up a picture | of an old an old Sir Galahad no true old| £ge in Celtic legend, for Celts never grow old. Ireland, Scotland, Wales, Brittany—they are youthful, enthus- ed figures in the procession of veoples. customary is * % * E will turn then I miracles, always mind the picture of a voung man. Thesa started very shortly after his birth, of Christian parents, prob- &bly somewhere on the banks of the Clyde in Scotland. It was determined to baptize the future patron saint of Frin. But unfortunately there was no yriest or holy man in the vicinity capable of performing the ceremony One, indeed, there was. But he w: stone blind and had been from his birth. He certainly couldn’t read the baptismal office. Moreover, it was 2 time of great drought and there was no water to be had for baptismal Purposes. Nevertheless, to this holy man the| infant Patrick was taken. He took in his own the little hand of the baby &nd made with it the sign of the cross on the ground. At once a stream of water gushed forth. Then, with his moistened fingers, he rubbed his face, and his sight was instantly Festored The poor man, to Muirchu" keeping in of course, couldn't read because his eyes had never known the light. But simultaneously &ith the restoration of his sight came B perfect knowledge of letters. So b4 was enabled to perform the bap- tismal ceremony in proper form Practical minded folks sometimes have questioned this legend, but it is pointed out that a clear stream of water still flows from the site of &n ancient church near Dumbarton. Certainly this is enough to substan- tiate the unsophisticated Muirchu, Shortly after his birth Patrick's family fell upon evil da His mother was dead—but he dearly loved his foster mother. A flood came and quenched her She was in despair. That was before the days of matches. When a fire went out in wet weather, it was a week's work to build an- other. But the ng St Patrick merely dipped his fingers in the flood waters and the drops fell on the Wood as s ks of fire sufficient to Xindle the wet fagot But the sup- DIy of fuel was low The fost mother %o go out in the wet to find some sticks. feturned in a few handful of—icicl You are a worthless wretoh,” said the poor woman, helieving that her precious fire was doomed again, and forgetting the lad's ious service. But he ¢ laid the ice on the fire and it into wood, bursting into a hot flame. Sueh simple miracles bringing neighborhood cows to life and turning er he were for the Patrick, and Muirchu relates a of ‘them. Ail Cluade, the r asked the woods and tr He went and nutes with a boy m turned 1 into honey easy and | autiful | ure, Described as a serpent the | inflaming | Latter-Day St. John. " . PATRICK'S CATHE DRAL, IN DUBLIN. to force picked subjects to clean his hearth whenever it got dir At a very busy season Patrick's parents were selected. The boy saved them by a rather obscure miracle, in which the hearth became miraculous n and, strange to say, in such a condi tion that it could never become dirty again. Wood burned upon it left no soot or ashes. AL c1 monare played him king took * * ADE a was broadminded for those days. Patrick mean trick, but the it good-naturedly enough when he might have decided cut off his youthful subject’s head, and thus do away with miracles It seems that he collected a certain tax each year in milk curds and butter, and was very severe on those who ailed to pay up when the tax col- lector knocked at their door. Patrick's parents didn’t have the wherewithal to pay and expected to be thrown into the dungeon under Al Claude’s castle. But the future saint pickefl up some snow and turned it into but- ter-—far more than enough to satisfy the demands of the king. and most delicious b seen orth Britain, his lips when he t. and ordered the table set. N was the delicacy on the table before him than it turned into snow again. The king was impressed that he exempted the family from further butter taxes. Patrick, by this time, was approach ing young manhood and, according to his own confession, he in clined to be a bit wild. He began to take the miracles as a matter of course and to indulge in the sinful revelry of third century Britain. He still had a long road to travel before becoming a saint. In missible to smile at the miracles his bovhood. They belong with the snake story. But he was to undergo a soul-making expeérience. an Irish tribe on the he w prisoner and carried awa: d as a slave. He was set to herding sheep and swine on a mountain top, near what is now the center of County Antrim. From 14 to 20 years he re- mained in slavery-—date are not very exact in cotemporary accounts of his life. He probably was ill- treated, kept half naked and without shelter. Much of his time was spent alone with the sheep and swine. From a carefree and, perhaps, slightly wild young man he turned into a thinker. The loneliness and the majestic scenery helped in his development, His mind turned to the religion of his vouth—for he had been baptized a Christlan. Like so many who have followed him, St Patrick found his soul. He became a man of visions. There is no longer the barest trace of humor to his miracles. Believe them or not, they become sublime and serious. x x * ¥ OD kept his saint-to-be in the purgatory of slavery long enough to rid his mind of all iliusions. Then his escape was arranged. Now, from all we can gather from Muirchu, this would not have been exceedingly diffi- cult at any time except for the fact that Patrick had no money. If he es- caped he starved. This difficulty was overcome by a vision in which he was told to follow a black pig in his herd. He did so, and some distance away in the forest the animal's snout uprooted a nugget of gold, which served to finance his wanderings and his education. Patrick fled from the swine to give his soul to God. Escaping to France, he entered the monastery of Marmon- tier near Tours, famous for the min- istrations of St. Martin, under whose influence the young man's character w molded. Here he became a scholar above the average, although it in smacked sooner riton king of South Scotland, used | does not appear that he was given to literary pursuits to any great ex- the | | remained always a rather than contem- why it _app: as bei houses Patrick action That imagine tent st of plation hard to | In various monastic continent he spent at 1 s Some of this time was pass- the island Lerins, off the | coast of France -footed her- | mit. Here he devol ud | and probably had assistance ¢ [ sehotars who had profited by the Ro- I man schools, All this time the idea slowly was forming in his brain to return to T mer masters, to save the souls of those who_had shamefully used him Ireland then was the abode of very primitive The intellectual level was probably about that of the Ameri- can Indian tribes found by the early explorers on the shores of the West- W world. The northward of Roman civilization had passed lightly this great island of bogs, moun- ns and forests, Druidism, with all its beautiful pantheism and its volting cruelty of human sacrifices, | still hela the people St. Patrick found no willing recipients of his message. The strange new re- ligion of brotherly love and a ioving God was difficult indeed to translate into the tongue of Fingal, fashioned | for prayers to a myriad of divinitie | who knew no mercy, and whose priests were mischievous magicians, jealous of their pre Nor were the pe interested in a_message about salva- | tion . They wanted to see @ [ man who could pass his palm over & white cat and turn it black. St. Pat- rigk had to match magic with magic In fact, to judge from Muirchu he laid the foundation of his work by demon- strating that the God he preached could bring about more miraculous things than the old gods. There was. one particularly cious magician named Lucetmal, who practiced his black art about the court of Temoria and did a rushing business on all holidays. He boldly told the people that Patrick was a “big bluff.” On Easter day he challenged the new maglician to bring down snow. It was warm and sunny. There wasn't a ctoud in the sky. Patrick informed Lucetmal that he was too busy to bother with such penny-snatching miracles as that. “I told vou so/ said Lucetmal, turning to the assembled multitude of half-naked country folks. “Now watch me. He worked with appropriats ges- tures and snow started to fall. It fell until it covered the plain, waist- deep. Having accomplished his mir- acle, Lucetmal made hasta to take advantage of it. He stood high with the people and insisted that they burn Patrick at the stake, with dire pen- alties from his magic threatened if they didn’t get the fire started at once. “Hold,” sald Patrick, cr something to that effect. “You have made the snow fall. That's a inean trick to play on folks on such a nice Easter day, after everybody's been sick and tired of Winter for the last two months. Before You Lurn me let's see vou get the snow eway again. I'm just curious.” This isn't a literal ‘ransiation from the Erse, or even a faithful trans- cribing of Muirchu, but It expresses the saint’s idea. “That,” answered Lucetmal, flushed with victory and proud of his magic, “is something else again. My gods will send the snow but they will not take it away. We must wait until it melts naturally. It may be a month.” is ars old on the another st iself to > an apostle sweep particularly mali- * * * x ATRICK then informed the pop- ulace that, while he didn't prac- tice ordinary cheap magic, he did have a store of it to use in case of a calamity like this hand, he made the snow vanish in the twinkling of an eye. This enormously increased his pres- tige. It saved him from the stake. The people began to murmur against Lucetmal “Curses,” said of almost 2,000 years ago. get this guy or he'll get me The gods are very angry with you,” he continued, turning to the multi- tude. “You have deficd them by not burning this impudent fellow as he deserves. You have irritated them by even looking at his magic. When the gods send snow they mean for the snow to st They will have their revenge. They will shut out the sun from you forever. Come, darkness, and curse this land.” And the magician, waving his wand and describing calbalistic figures in the air, caused the sun to become And, lifting his this black villain must { overclouded and the darkness of mid- night to come over the countryside at noonday. Then on all hands, went up moaning and lamentation. But agdin Patrick came to the rescue. With only a praver (not so impressive as the necromancing, but evidently more powerful) he reversed the process and changed midnight into noonday This, said Lucetmal, was more bad magic for which the kingdom of Temoria would suffer greviously. His gods might be taking a day off, but just wait—— But Patrick was becoming dis- gusted with this exchange of magic Not only was Lucetmal a nulsance, but he threatened to become a dan- gerous nufsance. So Patrick made him a straight business-like proposition, with all the people for witness: A “We will trade cloaks,” said Pat- rick; “go into yonder cottage and lock the doors. Then some of these good people will be kind enough to set the building on fire. The one whose gods are best will come out alive. The other will perish.” Now poor old Lucetmal, in a half- hearted sort of way, belleved in his own magic. He had added tricks of his own, but the great bulk of his necra- mancy had been taught him by his fathers. He never was sure that it wasn't golng to work. Also he must have been a villain of considerable personal courege. He accepted the challenge and both men entered the thatched building. When the flames were burned out the audience saw Patrick standing unharmed In the midst of the ashes— but the cloak of Lucetmal which he had worn had been burned completely off his shoulders without the flames touching his flesh. On the other hand, Lucetmal was aheap of ashes—but Pat- rick's cloak which he had worn was lying on the ground, not even scorch- ed. That, of course, was the end of poor old Lucetmal. He had died like a hero for his false gods—a true Druid to the last, despite his cruelty. It might be possible to duplicate the incident from the legendry of the American Indians, “This is real magic,” said the swine- herds of Temoria, nudging each other. “It is not magic,” said Patrick. “It is Christ.” At any rate, that is what he may be imagined as having said, although Muirchu fails to quote him. But it was enough to convert no less a per- sonage in those parts then Loiguire, king of Temoria, who on that Easter day knelt at the feet of the saint and accepted the living word. * % x ‘HEN Patrick left Temoria and his fame spread all over Ireland— but there were other Lucetmals to conquer. One of these, it is re- lated, decided to finish Patrick with- out recourse to magic, but by plain trickery, The salnt was not easily trapped, but he had never been known to refuse a call of distress or to pass by a sick man on the roads. So the magician set a trap for him. He had one of his followers wrapped in a blanket and then sent for the great maglcian on a pretense that the man was dying and in need of spiritual consolation. Of course the fellow was in perfect health. “I will not go," messenger. This was contrary to all precedent. “No,” continued the saint, “I will not go, because it is too late. The poor man is dead.” The messenger protested that this was not so. But Patrick was stub- born, and it afterward was found that the unfortunate decoy had died at the exact moment that the mes- senger came to the saint. Gradually, Patrick established Christianity among the heathen Irish and his fame spread to the lands be- yond the seas. In his 106th year St. Patrick saw death approaching. He had been a young man so long that he was grow- ing tired and longing for the reward of it all. When he died there was no night for 12 days, but the sun re- mained always bright in the sky. “For 12 days,” says Muirchu, “night did not come down and wrap the world with dusky wings and Hes- perus did not bring on the shadows that show stars.” It was months before real night came again, but even at midnight there was a sort of semi-twilight, “lighter than night.” Thus St. Patrick passed from the green land of his sufferings, his la- bors and his victories. Twelve angels came down from heaven and kept watch over his tomb. Then the angels “flew away to heaven, but left behind them over all Patrick told the MARCH 15, Flower Farmers of Represented in Good Hope Reg 1925—PART 5. ‘Washington 10N Rambler Communes and Converses With Nature on His Way to the Home Lands of Some : of the Early Follo INE trees were growing by the road There is nothing re- markable In that, but it makes a good start for story. The tree that caught the Rambier's eye was a rough and knotty old fel- Jow that had the look of good humor in his bark and one of his big roots seemed so hospitable that the Ram- bler sat on it to rest. Many black ants were busy at least in mo= tlon—among the dead pine needles, and on sitting down the Rambler sald Beg your nardon, Messieurs and Mesdames Ants, 1 hope I do not disturb you.™ The ants did not lay aside their work and several of them began an inspec- tion of my shoes and then extended their inquiry to my trousers. They had the air of experts in leather and cotton goods and went about their examination in an active way. The Rambler thought ven ants are go- ing in for investigations and a plain man cannot it on the side of 4 road without a swarm of inspectors com- ing on him."” They inquisitive as to the kind of clothes 1 wore and very likely they down in a re- port to their department the date on which 1 bought the clothes, the amount of deposit | had made and the balance owed. T wasx thinking Wheeler, Huber, F learned friends e written of the high state of civilization and prog- ress among ants and was just about to put a few questions to them when a dry cone dropped from the pine, and looking around I saw that the knotty old tres was smiling. It was a smile of welecome 1d then the old pine tree spoke: “I dropped that cone on your head to attract your notice. If I were a cocoanut tree instead of a pine tree, my message would have had more weight." Then the old pine tree “I* have not seen you out for many a long year." “Some years” 1 answered, “seem longer than others, but it has been & long time since we met The bulld- ers are putting up o many colonial houses in which George Washington <lept and in which famous men of | the American Revolution lived that it keeps me pretty busy writing them up, and 1 don't get out this way often.” A number of pine trees nearby bent over as though listening to us, but they did not interrupt. My old friend | the pine resumed: w terested In the ants I thought never look around.” “Ants,” T said, “are interesting and worthy of earnest study. I remember having talked with Drs. Howard, Marlatt, Quaintance, O'Leary and Currie down at the Department of | Agriculture on the subject of the svs- tem of governments of ants, and the progress of literature and eciviliza- | tion among them, and it seems to me | that these ants are preparing a re- port on the clothing and habits of the larger inse i “That’s it,” said the old pine, “those ants that crawled over you are in- spector ants of the Republic of For- micaria, and they are getting statis- tics of some kind, or any kind.” I was a little surprised by this, but, knowing that it is good form in po- Iite soclety never to show emotion and to keep the face expressionless as the marble lady on the Peace Monu- ment, I did not interrupt the old pine, who continued: “Yes, lots o' changes down here since you wrote up old Jack Smith's loghouse and said it was one of the princely mansions of the colonial era.” I saw a sudden movement in a pine | that had been watching us from its place across the road and heard it Jaugh. It broke Into the conversa- tion and said: “My family trees were living around here and knew the Smith family in- timately. You made a plcture of old Jack Smith drinking tea out of a saucer with Gen. Washington, but the nearest old Jack ever came to George Washington was when the general's coach ran over one of his rabbit hounds down the road yonder. Ain’t that so, Old Knots?" * ok ¥ ¥ LEARNED in this way that the name of the tree under which T was sitting was Knots—Mr. Gnarly Knots was the full name. Then Gnarly sald: “That's my friend, Mr. Rosin, across the way. We have been neighbors for a long time, but we get along together fairly well, notwith- standing. Yes, things have changed right smart down here since horse- and-buggy days. My address used to be the County Road About One Mile From Skunk’s Crossroads, but my post office address now is No, 43711 Pine- hurst boulevard. I haven't moved, but the neighborhood has changed. There ain't any more houses than there used to be, but we've got flos- sier names. “Some style! Il say we have!" creaked a venerable tree a little way down the road. “That's old Miss Scales” sald Mr. Knots. he's a daughter of Miss Blister and old Pine Rust. You met them when you were down here on a writing tour about 75 years ago. Miss Scales _resembles her lamented par- ents. Her mother was the most cele- brated gossip in this part of the county and her father was 5o worth- less that he could not be used for firewood. Miss Blister was a graceful sapling about 65 vears ago, but she married a scrub-pine—young Jack Pine, a very good sort of person in his way, you know—but of course members of the pioneer Pine familigs could not receive her.” “Ah, yes!" sighed old Mr. Knots, “many changes, many changes. The young pine trees are not what we used to be. They are not as green. They are frivolous and their speech is too familiar. I see young maiden pine trees wave their branches flirt- ingly at city slickers going by in horseless carrlages” “Girls dld not behave that-er-way when I was a girl” saids Mrs. Blister-Pine. ‘‘Well," said old Gnarly Knots, putting one of his branches close to my ear, “I aid hear tell of some scandal about Miss Blister when Jack Pine was a-courtin’ her.” seen Profs other of at orel and continued: this way re 5o in- vou'd | ou * k¥ k ‘HE Rambler thought he would stop out in the country and tell you of the flower farmers of Washington. He thought it might add to your stock of knowledge were you to meet the land the most sweet odor as of honey and a dellclous fragrance as of wine—the smell of & field the Lord has blessed.” And for years thereafter, continual flame, the flame of the Holy Spirit which had burned so flercely in his breast, burst from the narrow grave where he had been laid. Shortly after his death the lords of two great kingdoms decided to go to war over his body. Each wanted the sacred dust in his own domain. But Patrick’s spirit remembered the poor people Who must die in such a war. He didn't care so much for the great Ui-Neill and the equally great Ulaid—they might fight until doomsday. But he had not come to Erin to bring death to the folks he loved. Now it seems there was a great lake between the two kingdoms. St. Patrick caused such a storm to thresh the waters of the lake that | that she neither army could pass. ould be no war. some of the men who raised roses, | violets, lilies and chrysanthemums for sweethearts, brides and wives (sometimes); for those affairs which go under th me of “social fune tions” and flowers send heart and memory offerings to friends who have passed The Rambler heard a thought a man ralsing flowers must be an | ethereal fellow with much of the poet in him. Perhaps. A man whose closest | friends are violets and roses may have in hix being, but a few of the mbler's old flowor-growing friends outward show of this. He has known Nick Studer, Theodore Bentz, Simon Noll and Adolph Gude and he knows Chris Schelthorn, Alex- ander Garden, Michael McCabe, Fred Kramer, Will Thomas Pierce ar John Gutman, and they are practical men of affairs. Not one of them wears a purple orchid in the button- hole. They get their hair.cut on Sat- night and do not loi sy-dotted flelds twanging the or reading odes of Horace. the course the L & of palding-Smoot-Jenkins Tavern at | the top of Good Hope Hill beyond the | Eastern Branch you were told that the Rambler would write of the florists of that region. The taver: with seven acres of flower-land w bought by Christian Schelihorn in 1900 from 1da Florence Boiseau, who, ac-| cording to the Rambler's information inherited the property from Thomas Jenkins, who was a of Thomas Jenkins of Smoot. About this name Schelthorn. The Rambler has a faith that it is Schelihorn, and yet the tele- | phone book and_directories for 20 years spell it Schellhorn. 1 have known Chris for 40 or more years and his wife Henrlette for a number of years. and you know how embarrass- ing it is to call up an old friend on the telephone and ask him how he| spells his name. All those who do not | call this veteran florist “Chris” call him Mr. Schellhorn, but the Rambler feels that when he signs a check he signs it Christian Schelihorn. Either| the telephone book and all the direc- | torfes are wropg or the Rambler Is| wrong, and naturally he feels that the other folks are wrong. Theodore Bentz, who was a partner of Nicholas Studer, went into floricul- ture on his own account on land which had been part of the Walker farm, after which the Walker road was named. Bentz bought from Wil- liam Tudge. Bentz had several chil- dren, among them Anna, who is living Amelia, who lives in Baltimore, and Alexander, who is a Government flo- | rist in Washington. Theodore Bentz sold his flower acres and greenhouses to Stmon Noll, who came to Washing- ton from Germany in 1870. Simon Noll crossed the bar long ago and Mrs. Noll dled in 1918 at the age of 92. Their children, of whom the Rambler's record Is a year old, were Mary Augusta Noll of Hyatisville, Caroline Amelia, deceased, who mar- ried Christian Schelthorn: Henriette | Catherine, who several years after the death of Caroline became the wife of Christian Schelihorn; Adelaid and Jo- hanna, deceased, and Mary Elizabeth Noll, who married Adolph Gude. As you know, Adolph passed to a bright- er sphere several years ago, and Mary Noll-Gude lives in the fine fam- ily home with acres of glass houses near it on the Good Hope road, Ana- costia. Simon Noll bought the land that Bentz had bought from Tudge and the we as | woman say who spends his life R give little stories about later bought a part of the Mosher farm from Theodore Mosher. The Noll property was acquired by Chris Schelihorn, who retired from growing flowers about 16 vears ago and sold the gardens and hothouses to Michael J. McCabe. Michael, or Mike, is an old friend pa And and W home boast ichael MeCs England York He was a When he wer Henry ¥. Reh whose shop was street, two doors from No. 1 police tion. Later he i candy for R E. Duchering, whose candy factory fathe 1 anded in 186 then for ry little fe t to work it was the decorat 20 Twel H _ MICHAEL was on Eleventh south of Pennsylva he became a colle street southeast, venue. Then tor for the Metro- politan Life Insura and_held that position for seven years. Later he went into the restaurant business and kept a lunch stand in Center Mar- ket for eleven years. Without any experience in growing flowers, he bought the Bentz-Noll- Schellhorn plant, has spread glass houses over new fields, runs a flower stand in Center Market, and grows as gorgeous roses, lilies, carnations and chrysanthemums as are born in the genial soil of the District and bloom in the glorious climate of Washing- ton. (California papers please copy.) . Mjehael McCabe is not entitled to all the eredit for his success, because his father and mother were Irish. Much of his good luck has been due to his wife. Miss Mary Catherine Leyh, who was born insGermany and came to Washington when she was a sity has rers of This Very Useful Occupation. her husband ed Wash- Harry Lo McCabe ier in the Ameri- iffered grave in and Maryland State Univer- hn E. McCabe t up in the business been broug | of flower . | ba of ordinary stairs Dr. thi | the to stairs st forgotte EY liquor, reports D of the who has been dogs »f this Nick n which = thiat of 187 e story run The Rambler the er Studer " The Rentz, house will has Studer. the & di- flor Union- not give gathered he needs the next fsts named for Studer —Bentz or Goodman George, Alexander Studs Uniontow Theodore for worked young al in Skowhega 1 fiigh inches and tread, look- for the con children. This ording to the a dentist the day. of 1 in a hobble ided a flight ith difficulty and the stairs with Dr. Henry Leavitt butlding. k skirt woman a rt. an Leavitt planned s style in mind. About the time were finished, the await its resurrection, but remain—a memorial freak of fashion Dog and Home-Brew. a dog is unable to wit the evil effects w University of North Carolina, systematically feeding with alcohol in various forms he other hand, dogs given quantity of pure grain alcohol suffered I no perma: he drew The leson experiments rent i1l effects, from his that the increasing use of home-br {bx crease eases of ping treal the later the fish from odor changed. ders perm humans will probably number of cases kidney greatly he Gas Preserves Fish. HE pse of carbondioxide gas frigeration instead of ice in ship a consignment of 15,000 pounds fresh fish from Halifax to Mon- was so successful that wher cargo was unpacked 10 days was found to be free d the natural color ur e gas is carried in cylir in_ refrigerator cars, and the tem is expected to extend the mar or fresh fish. re Salvaging Lead. MAN in California makes a living y picking up bird shot. He asks sion to salvage the shooting fields of gun clubs for bird shot. Then he scoops up the ground within a 200 yard radius of the shooting posts sifts the shot from the dirt and melts it into lead bars for commercial use His salvage from the old Vernon Club ground at Los Angeles amounted more than $1,500. an increase cording United In the sixteenth century averaged only Average Life 56. HE average length of life in t TUnited States now is 56 years of 15 years since 1870, a to a recent report of the ates Public Health Service human life 18 and 20 between