Evening Star Newspaper, December 25, 1928, Page 34

BEDTIME STORIE Buster Grumbling. A little grumbling now and then Relieves the minds of bears and men. —Old Mother Nature. Buster Bear was very much out of sorts. He didn't feel good. You see, he was not as fat as usual at this time of year. For one thing, there had been & very poor crop of beechnuts. Buster delights in fattening up on. :beechnuts. ‘This meant that he had had to roam about a great deal in search of other food. He had been up on the Great hilguma‘m and clear around on the other side. Now it is a difficult matter to get fat while roaming about. Buster had walked off his fat almost as fast as he had made it. So here he was back in the Green Forest with only a little more fat under his skin than he had had when he left it. To add to his un- happiness, Winter had held off until very late and then had come suddenly with a hard snowstorm. Buster had kept right on traveling, for he wanted to get back to the Green Forest and a certain great windfall, where he meant to den up for the Winter. To “den up,” you know, is to go to sleep for the ‘Winter. Buster was as white as a polar bear when he reached that great windfall. No wonder Jumper the Hare took him for a ghost bear at first. Buster didn’t see Jumper leap out from under that old windfall and vanish in the blinding storm. You see, Jumper’s coat was as white as the snow. Buster paused at the opening that led under the great windfall. He shook himself. He shook himself hard several times. Then he crept in under that windfall. He was tired, he was still hungry and he was cross. Underneath the great windfall it was snug and comfortable. Buster raked together some leaves and fine needles and small twigs for a bed. All the time he was grumbling. “Never did I see such weather,” grumbled Buster Bear. “Here am I with only half fat enough and all food supplies covered with snow. How can I go to sleep when I am hungry? But WHY WE DO WHAT WE DO BY MEHRAN K. THOMSON. ‘THe seasons come, the. seasons go and we enjoy the going as well as we do the coming. We like rhythm. It saves us from the monotony of conti- nuity and the dullness of sameness. In the extreme ends of the earth, where the night is six months long and the day of equal length, and there are no seasons to speak of, life is not very attractive. The strain is too great for one born under normal climate. We like rhythm because it is our great friend. We couldn't get along without it. Every activity of man and nature is marked by rhythm. Rhythm runs all through the universe. resses itself in the heaving of the ocean’s breast, in the ebb and flow of the tides, the seasons of the year, the rising and setting of the: sun, the phases of the moon, the cycles of e e st of & rhythmic universe as of a 1 o o and h:uc for ‘:‘ rhythmic existence. This seen the desira for activity and rest and for work and play, in sleep and wakeful- ness, in intense desire and being fed in eating and getting hungry again, . There is no department of life d | congruous, thinking, saying to ma, Its thing how_you meet peeple, it seems almost uncanny, met George Bennett downtown, and if anybody had named the 10 peeple in the werld that I least expected to see, George Bennett would, of hedded the list. Youve herd me speak of George Bennett, havent you? he sed. Ive herd you speak of John Barnett, ma sed, and pop sed, Thats a cupple of other fellows. George Bénnett was my room mate in college, he was a funny cuss, rite after he graduated he was sick for a cupple of months, and wen he recovered consclousniss he found he had married his funny Jooking Inglish nerse, so he went over Ingland to live so none of his friends would see her. Well, that was more than 20 years ago and this is his ferst visit to this country. In fact its a bigniss trip and he was ony in town a cupple of hours, and yet here was I, his old side kick, bumping into him as casually as nuth- ing at all, in a city the size of this, I tell you its remarkable, pop sed. THE EVENING STAR, WASHINGTON, D. ‘C;, TUESDAY, DECEMBER 1928. BY THORNTON W. BURGESS I suppose I've got to make the best of it. A snow like this is going to last. Even if it didn't, there isn't enough to eat around here. I'm tired. Yes, sir, I'm tired. I wish I had another one of those pigs. But I guess it's a good | thing I left the other side of the Great Mountain when I did. That steel trap that nearly caught me was a terrible | thing. It gives me the shivers just to | think of it.” By this time Buster had fixed his bed to suit him. He turned around two or three times and finally lay down with a grunt. Outside he could hear rough’ Brother North Wind howling and the | sound of the snow sifting down through | the branches. A little sifted in where he was, but he didn’t mind that. Bears do not mind snow. They can sleep very comfortably buried in it. On the whole, it was very snug and comfort- able in there. Buster was tired, but he wasn't sleepy yet, so he continued to grumble to himself. “Those two-legged creatures called men are awful creatures,” he grumbled. “We forest folk hunt fairly, but those two-legged creatures set traps, and traps are the most unfair things in the world. and they are terrible things. Anyway. steel traps are. It gives me *he creeps just to think of what would have hap- pened if I had stepped in that trap and those great jaws had caught me in the leg. The more I see of those two- legged creatures the less I want to have | to do with them. I hope I shall be able to sleep clear through until Spring. I wish I had more fat under my coat. I can see where I am going to be a hungry Bear when I come out in the Spring. There won't be much fun in waking up then. Ho, hum! I supposc I might as well go to sleep now as later.” Buster yawned two or three times and then, because he was really very tired, and because it was warm and snug in there under the great windfall, Buster closed his eyes and went to sleep right in the midst of his grumbling. It would be a long time—many weeks-— before the Great Forest would see Bus- ter Bear again. (Copyright, 1928.) where rhythm may not be found or where it is not desired. — The rhythmic life is more efficient and healthy because there is a mini- mum of wear and tear. The loss is made up by the building processes of the mind and body before the next onslaught. The heart could not beay ! steadily for a hundred years, as it does in some cases, without th> aid or rhythm, which gives it a chance to recuperate. As a matter of fact the afnurt is at rest seven-eighths of the e. Life and death are rhythmic. They represent the see-saw of organic exist- ence. As one goes up the other comes down, and neither could go up with- out the other coming down. They al- ternate back and forth, and this very process is created with the experiences we know as birth and death. (Copyright, 1928.) Lessons in English BY W. L. GORDON. Words often misused: Do not say “The moon looks beautifully as it shines above the trees.” “Say, “looks beauti- ful,” although it “shines beautifully.” Often mispronounced: “Altercation; first & as in “at” is preferred. Often misspelled: Alibi; two i's. Synonyms: Inconsistent, illogical, in- incompatible, discordant, discrepant. ‘Word study: “Use a word three times and it is yours.” Let us increase our vocabulary by mastering one word each day. “Today’s word: Multitudinous; great in number or extent. “I was con- fronted by multitudinous details.” Abe Martin Says: Well, G wizz, pop, thats nuthing, I sed. You know Freckels Perdy, dont you? I sed. Im afraid not, pop sed, and I sed, Well G wizz sure you do, he use to live around here. Well anyways he moved away and nobody hasent saw him for about a year pritty near and yestiddy I was up on the avenue and who did I see but him, and he just happened to be there but he lives 10 blocks away and he told me all about the nayber- hood and they have 3 movies rite in the next block and he says its the ony place to live. Imagine that, 10 blocks a;ws)d'. hows that for meeting somebody? se By gollies that was practically a mir- acle, pop sed. I gess strange things happen to everybody if we ony knew the truth, he sed. Wich they proberly do. l LIFE’S DARKEST MOMENT.—BY WEBSTER l “ahe pany wishes ene and all a Merry Christmas : and ¥ a * Bappy * and Prosperous Nety: Pear THE POSTMAM READS ONE. FTHE 10,000 CHRISTMAS CARDS & /O"\Al LED BY A FIRM T01TS CUSTOMERS' S R—_ Cormd P, Pl G 1 Vo W 120 One thing'’s certain—th’ girl o' t'day haint worryin’ about th’ mistletoe crop. Who recalls th’ ole sayin’, “Not by a jug full”? (Copyright, 1928.) WYreka Button Hook Com- b Ui [~ A4 THE CHEERFUL CHERUB small to hold | | This space is much too The happiness 4 ke to send, But Tam A merry Christmas, 4 et Kn.derif’riend( saying from ol? Merry Christmas! WELL FOLKS, MY APPLE SAUCE BUSINESS TURNED AWFULLY SOUR, AND THINGS DONT LOOK 30 HOT; BUT MERRY XHAS JUST " - By BUD FISHER Mutt Happens to Know a Thing or Two About the Italian KENKLING So Say Bv GENE BYRNES Santa Has a ALBERTINE RANDALL SIDNEY! === BON NUIT, MONSIEUR, T GUESS YOU THOUGHT| You WERE CWTE TRYING TO MAKE Me BELIEVE YOu WERE CONVERSING IN FRENCH WITH SIR SIDNEY. T KNEW IT WOULD GET YOUR NANNY/ T SPEAK FRENCH EVEN MORE FLUENTWY THAN T Do ENGLISH: IN FACT, T CAN SPEAK ALMOST ANY LANGUAGE! MERRY CHRISTMAS FRIENDS' JUST KEEP YOUR EYE ON ALOYSIUS P M=GINIS — HE'LL COME OUT ALL RIGHT \/Er'" EVERYBODY GAVE ME THE HA-HA WHEN T MARRIED GOOFY, BUT 1 HOPE YOURE ALL AS HAPPY AS T AM THIS CHRISTMAS DAy ! HE;/ JULIE' ARE \;t: su;nue ON TOP OF TH' WORLD ? OH BABY — MERRY XMAS!' A MERRY XMAS 0 ALL FROM i HOMA T DON'T know FRENCH, BUT GERMAN 'S MY DISH, SAY- *How ARE You? In 6ERMAN /. YEAH , TVE BEEN TALKIN' . TO YOR' BOSS AN' HE sAVYS VUHVE BEEN PRETTY 600D ALL THE YEAR SO NUH CANI HAVE TH' DAY OFF FER . A HOLIDAY = HIT BEIN' CHRISTMAS, VU KNIOW I TRIED To STAY AWAKE LAS' NIGHT SO I COULD GET A peeP AT SANNY MR JUST WHEN 1M ON MY GAME B TS HAS To AAPPEN ! CLAUS BuT ™E SAND MAN CAME AROULN'! oKe NOW AS FURTHER Roof THAT You'Re A SPECIALIST IN ’:.ANGUAGGS. GOCD NIGHT. ELIZABETH" IN ITALIAN. (o P SAY BETCHA THARS A KETCH 1IN HIT SOMEWHERES, d GET AWAY FROM ME, THERE AINT ANY, SANTA CLAUS .= s s HEY, JERRY, QUICK, RERES 1 GUESS NOBODY SAW M CEPTIN' MY FATHER! ‘IM BUT I HEARD WHAT HE SAID WHEN HE KNOCKED HIS HEAD AGAINST THE DOOR! 1928 NN TRIBONE, Ine.. AND _JOIN IN OUR E UNDER THE HOLLY