Evening Star Newspaper, April 21, 1929, Page 93

Pitcher Who Wasn’t Needed A Base Ball Story in Five Installments. BY W. BOYCE MORGAN. INSTALLMENT L ‘The Warmington High School base ball diamond was a busy place on these Spring afternoons. Practice had been under way for two v ks, the squad had been cut for the fisi time, and Coach Haggerty was beginning to puzzle over the problem of a line-up for the open- ing game. This problem was uppermost in his mind as he sat in the dugout one day, casually watching Waite Roberts throw them up to the other boys for batting practice. He was so absorbed that he failed to look around when a tall youth stalked up to the bench and stood wait- ing expectantly for his attention. The youth was not a member of the squad, but he wore a base ball uniform of a sort. The shirt failed to match the B:nts. and the stocking were just stock- , but the body under the suit was rangy and powerful, and the boy’s face ‘was rosy with health and rugged with character. hooked it into deep left field, a sure three-bagger in any game. “Can he hit!” exclaimed the coach softly. “Just ask me!” A moment later he called Frankie away from the plate. “Say, maybs we can use you after all,” he sald to him. “As I told you, we've got lots of pitchers, but we need somebody like you in the outfield. With your arm to cut the other boys off on the bases, and your bat to bring our own boys in off the bases, I see a great future for you on this ball club. How about it? Are you much of a fielder?” “Well,” saild Frankie doubtfully, “I suppose I could field all right, but say, you know, I—I really want to pitch.” The coach snapped his fingers im- patiently. “I know, but a pitcher has to have something besides smoke and control to get by in this league. And you can't develop a couple of hooks and a slow ball overnight.. Nope, your place is in the outfield. If you want “OH, YOU'RE FRANKIE, ARE YOU?” SAID THE COACH. After several minutes of waiting, this unusual figure in the ill-fitting uniform cleared his throat and said, “Say, are you the coach?” Coach Haggerty glanced around, and his eyes opened a bit wider. Then he looked the boy over from head to foot, noting the uniform, the air of innocence on the face, and the shock of yellow hair above it. His eves twinkled. “I am the coach,” he replied. “And ‘who are you?” . “I'm Frankie Lum.” “Oh, you're Frankie, are you?” said the coach, amused by the name. “And where's Johnny?” Frankie evidently didn’t get that one. His face took on a puzzled expression. “I'm coming out for your ball team,” he announced after a moment. “I'm glad to hear it,” said the coach with suspicious enthusiasm. “But aren’t you a bit late? We took care of fellows like you two weeks ago.” “Yeh, I know, but I couldn't come out until today because Pa didn't have a hired man yet to help him on the farm. But he got a man yesterday, so here I am.” “Sure enough, here you are,” agreed Coach Haggerty. “And what position are you going to play on my ball team?” ‘The serious expression cn the youth's face showed that he did not realize that he was being “kidded.” “I'd like to piteh,” he replied. “Yes, they all would” laughed the coach. “We had about 20 yougsters this year who wanted to be pitchers, but you see we only use one pitcher at a time, and we have a couple of good ones already. So the pitcher market is rather over-crowded.” “That's what I've heard,” said the boy. “But I thought you could use an- other one. I've got lots of speed.” The coach suddenly rose to his feet. Evidently he had spent enough time in idle conversation with this raw recruit. “Well, since you're out here we'll see ‘what you can do, but I'm afraid there’s not much chance. The squad’s been cut, and the team is pretty well picked,” he finished shortly. He walked away, leaving Frankie gaz- ing after him, undecided as to just what -course of action he should pursue. As the coach approached the plate, Art Belden, captain and first baseman, walked up to hinm. “Who's your friend?” said the cap- fain, indicating the boy by the bench with a grin. “That's Frankie,” replied the coach solemnly. “He’s a pitcher. He tells me g\efl&u a lot of speed. He's just come “Yes, I know him,” said Art. He's in my English class. He lives out in the country, and drives in every morning in the saddest apology for an automo- le_that ever took a drink of gasoline. e has gone to some district high school until this semester, and then came in here to finish up. Nice kid, but I didn’t know he played ball.” “Take him over and catch him a while, will you?” said the coach. “See if he has anything. If he hasn't, we might as well not monkey with him.” “Sure,” said Art. A few minutes later he had led Frankle aside, paced off the pitching distance, and donned a catching mitt. “All right, toss me up a few,” he said ;fr :’3? recruit. “Better take it easy at st Frankie evidently didn’t know much about the technique of pitching, and as for taking it easy, that was very dis- tasteful to him. Suddenly his arm whirled back over his head and the ball gxfi‘ee! zipping to the captain like a “Wow!” exclaimed Art. “Is that taking it .easy? You'll wre teunu;‘! 5 Y eck your arm, “Naw, I won't,” replied Frankie con- fidently. “It's in good shape.” mgl!tfien ll:l[linmes ]:g"',hA“ had had ugh. e remove e mitt from his stinging hand and walked over to the coach. “When that fellow said he had speed he wasn't fooling anybody,” he said ruefully. “He's a regular siege gun.” ‘With this introduction, he went on to tell the coach that Frankie had learned to throw by hurling rocks at various targets on the farm, that he had all kinds of control, that his pitching had a natural incurve, but he had not the slightest notion of how to throw any- \‘.ggxl but a fast ball. The recruit had played base ball for his district school team, and said that he was a pretty good hitter, “Maybe we'd better see him hit, then,” said the coach. He beckoned to Frankie, who was standing some distance away, and sent him up to the ht:‘.m ordering Waite Roberts to pitch Frankie picked up the heaviest bat that he could find, walked to the bat- face of the pitcher ‘while the coach uttered a a chance I'll try you out in the fleld.” ‘The country boy's face was too frank for him to conceal his disappointment, but finally he nodded. “All right,” he said glumly. Practice ended a short time Ilater, and as Prankie walked back towara the locker room in the school a hand was laid on his arm. He glanced around to look into the friendly eyes of Tom Polonis, little black-haired catcher on the team. “I'm Tom Polonis,” the catcher an- nounced. “I was watching you throw them to Art this afternoon, and say, boy, you've got stuff in that arm. Won't they let you pitch?” Frankie explained what the coach had told him. “Well, coach knows his job, but it's sort of tough on you,” said the catcher, shaking his head. “Pegging them in from the outfield doesn't help a pitch- ing arm any.” He walked along in silence for a while, then resumed. “Tell you what Il do; I'll show you how to throw a couple of curves, and maybe if you work on it you can learn. I know enough about it to teach you a little something anyway.” Prankie the little player with shining eyes. “Say that -would be great!” he cried. (To be continued next Sunday.) . Balance a Coin and Baffle an Audience In this novel juggling effect, the per- former takes an ordinary table knife in his right hand. He asks a spectator to lend him a half dollar, And then— wonder of wonders—the magician suc- ceeds in balancing the coin, on edge, on the edge of the knife blade! At the conclusion of the juggle, the half dollar is handed back {o the spectator and the knife is passed out for exami- nation. To perform this effect you must hold concealed in your right hand a quarter. ‘To one side of this quarter you have stuck a small bit of chewing gum. The knife is held in the same hand. Now, you ask for the half dollar. After going down into the audience to receive it, you return to the place where you are to perform the trick, and while doing so you attach the quarter to one side of the half dollar by means of the small dab of chewing gum. And 50 . .. what you really do is to balance the quarter on the knife blade and let the half dollar be !ugported b) the quarter, as shown in the sketch. If you stand several feet away from ur audience and tilt the knife slight- backwards, it will appear as if the half dollar actually rested on the edge of the knife. After completing the trick, you se- cretly remove’ the quarter and return the half dollar to its owner. SN AP Riddles. Some of the boys and girls have a lot of fun collecting riddles, cutting out ell that they can find in various papers and magazines. Then they save them, and some time they have a “rid- dle party.” Try it! Here are five for your collection: 1, How many wives is a man allow- ed, u;ecrdlnx to the marriage cere- mon; 2. What is that you can put in your right hand but not in your left hand? 3. Why is a watermelon filled with wal ter? 4. What has its heart in the center of its head? 5. Where is it that all people seem equally beautiful? Answers, 1—Sixteen, four better, four worse, four richer, four poorer. 2—Your left elbow. 3—Because it is planted in the Spring. 4—Cabbage. 5—In the dark. —— e Light Lunch. M‘e"mt weich;.m“pen.cflw mark o‘; & plece of paper.” . “Well, I suppose he needs a delicate instrument like that to weigh the sand- Give Him Company. RN iy n@—"m seemed 80 lonesomg,’ ' THE. SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. ©, APRIL 21, e BOYS and GIRLS PAGE The life of the Arctic trader is one of the few really adventur- ous callings left to men with a taste for primitive conditions. ‘The author of this series of articles went to the Arctic on business. As counsel and general manager of a trading company, with headquarters in Tacoma, Wash.,, he decided to make a personal investigation of the rea- sons for a reduction in trade. He sailed for Northern Siberia in the company's trading schooner, the Iskum, a staunch little ice- breaker, measuring 67 feet long with a 16-foot beam. A the news of our arrival spread (and news travels with mysteri- ous rapidity in the Aretic, regardless of the lack of telephone and telegraph lines) we were besieged by visitors who wished to come on bcard. They were mainly Chukchis, though there was a sprinkling of Eskimos among them. The trouble was that the first callers never rose to leave with the arrival of the second batch, and before long the Iskum’s deck was so crowded with heavy, fur-clad bodies, sprawled about in groups, that at times it was almost impossible for us to move about. If their visit coincided with meal time (and it nearly always did), they remained expectantly, their round, oily BY JAMES M. ASHTON. TRADING schooner in the North is a good deal like Christ- mas to the natives; and when faces so full of a kindly, childish antici- | tion that it would have taken much arder hearts than any of our outfit possessed to drive them off unfed. The task of feeding this great num- ber of self-invited guests was rather staggering at first glance. It presented a difficulty we solved only by closing the hatch to provide a “table,” on which a great copper kettle of soup was set out, containing reindeer meat, bear meat, some fish, and usually the bones of Arctic duck and other water fowl with bits of meat left on them. This, together with added flour, bread, and hard biscuits, blended in a stew that made a decided hit with the natives. Alongside this stew we placed an- other big caldron filled with hot tea, of which all natives are inordinately fond. On the other side of the soup- pot we put & huge box of pilot bread, and then stood back and watched the feast. It was something of a sight to see anywhere between fifty and a hundred natives industriously making inroads on such a repast with incredible rapidity; and—if the water around the schooner were fairly clear of ice at the time— the ship presented somewhat the ap- pearance of & small island in the midst of a solid sea of native skin-boats of every conceivable make and size, stretching out from the schooner on both sides and far to the rear, which were waiting for their owners to finish their feast and go ashore. 3 As a rule, when the business of eat- ing was at an end, most of the callers returned to their boats, and paddled home. But if there was anything of interest going on board, such as the opening of boxes of rifles and ammuni- tion, with the entrancing prospect of trading, the middle-aged and older men promptly sat down again on the deck and nwedn':: take part in the next number on the program. ‘The women, too, waited to see if there was a chance of acquiring additional strings of bright beads of a different pattern or design from those they al- ready possessed. They pfoudly opened thelr fur parkas at the throat, and pointed to you to look inside and see what a vast collection of vividly colored wealth they owned. I found out after- ward that these bead necklaces were not usually worn in such numbers by the ‘women, except upon the arrival of a trading schooner or visiting strangers, who were to be duly impressed with the importance and affiuence of the wearer. * K %k Wfln.: at Whalen we picked up a Russian named Astrosoff and his wife. They were anxious to find a means of reaching Kolyma; and when one desires to travel in the Arctic one accepts a “lift” in any vessel journey- ing the desired direction, whether it is actually bound for the exact port or not. Every few miles in the right general direction help, especially when one is traveling in & region entirely lacking in schedules and dependable lines, of patient travelers who have taken more than a year to reach a desired spot, mw&mun distance might very well have covered in a few weeks of straight voyaging, if that had been possible. Off Wrangell Island one night the ice began to prevent us from any headway. . At first the con- appreciable Y. nad them, rring ice bl mm‘r exciting obstacles to be .mzuv‘e:l::. but watchfulness to detect signs of the pack closing in on us. Many a fine schooner has gone to Davy Jones' locker with the suddenness of a stone dropped over a cliff-side, when the ice closed in un- expectedly, and squeezed the heavy timbers of the hull to splinters. ‘Those of us who slept at all took brief cat naps with our clothes on, ready to leap to the pack ice overside. Morning found us as solidly surrounded by enormous and apparently impassable floes, as on the previous day. We had run lead after lead, only to find our way blocked before us each time, with the whole discouraging business of hunting a new path to freedom and the open seas to be repeated over again. . Our Russian passenger, M. Astrosoff, was certainly one of the coolest men I have ever met. Seeing there was noth- ing he could do to help, he had consid- erately taken himself out of the way and retired to the hatch top, where he rolled himself in a heavy fur coat and calmly studied an English book. There was no greunse or attempt to impress us with is indifference in this. He was ambi- tious to learn English, and quite simply tock this time of inaction to work over a list of words and common phrases I }md prepared for him several days be- ore. It was very beautiful and exceedingly lonely. The horizon appeared reversed. As one looked out at the encircling ex- panse of roughly packed ice, the schoon- er seemed to be bound in the bottom of a great white saucer, the edges and sides of which were ruffied in gigantic patterns with large ice caps projecting up from the pack. Some of these pro- Jections assumed shapes similar to ani- mals, trees and great mushrooms. The Arctic has many cross currents, which sometimes create deceiving ef- fects. Upon one occasion it seemed cer- tain another schooner was meeting us. In reality it was an iceberg, sailing di- rectly opposite our course and not over 1,000 feet distant upon our starboard hand. The berg was so cut and worn by wind and water as to give at a distance a clear impression of a vessel. ‘This edge of the saucer, as we looked out and up to it, was our only horizon, unless we climbed to the crow's-nest, and from there we only saw the same saucer several times enlarged. By the third day of our captivity, I noticed a tendency on the part of every- one to fall into gloomy silence and stare dully out across the monotonous white- ness that was shutting us away from the rest of the world. In a storm, no matter how great the danger, there is always something to be done; hands and brains are occupied to the exclu- sion of fears and forebodings. But in our case there was nothing we could do except wait for the wind to shift and stop our northern drift, or for the ice to break and open leads through which we might escape. At such a time it is hard for even the most naturally opti- mistic to avoid the strain. * K ok % ON the fifth day, about the middle of that afternoon, a lookout in the crow's-nest made out fer in the dis- tance two figures tolling over the rough ice. They had no dogs, but were mak- ing their way to us with the help of pick-poles. As they drew near :noufi to see plainly with the glasses, we dis- covered they were Chukchis, and that the taller, and evidently the elder of the two, seemed near the point of ex- haustion. His companion was giving him what help he could, but they were both stumbling, panting and about “all in” by the time we helped them over the Iskum’s rail. ‘They each had skin knapsacks strap- d over their shoulders and carried, g:ndes their pole, a 30-30 rifle, They wore, in spite of the intense cold, only their parkas, seal trousers and muck- luks. Their weather-beaten faces looked hard and shone like dull copper, with longkl;lue lines of tattooing down bot! cheeks. oOur first act, of course, was to fill them with food and hot coffee, ‘Which revived them to the point or conversa- tlon. Through out interpreters we learned that our visitors had toiled across many miles of rough ice in their efforts to reach us. They had been on a seal hunt when they made out our masts far in the distance, and came all the way to investigate and offer help if it should be needed. Our visitors agreed to take a_ note to Carl Johnson, our trader at Kalu- chin, telling him of our position and danger. So after being well fed, warm- ed and presented with small articles from our stores that took their fancy, they departed for Kaluchin over the boundless sea of long and dif- ficult journey that we feared they could make without relaying to other They are a wonderful people, the Chukchis, and many more " highly civil- ized folk must take their hats off to 2 lly when it comes to the .question do;m risking ‘!tlhelr H:‘u.d‘n&hek goods an luring all sorts ers and discomforts to help a nelxmm! trouble. u:ba entire crew and deck, watchiny the two bulky but active the irregular bravely over icy pinnacles until they were lost to view over the rim of the great Ice Saucer. * Ok kX WE did not go to our bunks that night, but took turns alternately watching and sleeping on the deck. ‘The watcher stood over the sleeper to warn him or throw him over on the ice and then jump overside himself if the schooner began to break up, for the ice had suddenly begun to move with a mighty cracking and grinding. At times it sounded like artillery fire all about us, causing the vessel to rise and fall by the head and then astern, also to tip heavily on one side and then the other. For some reason she never broke. The wind had increased, and was carrying us coastward with the moving ice. Such were the conditions until the southerly drift brought us off the rocky buttes forming Cape Serd. I am sure few of us ever expected to see another morning, yet, when it came, it was a day of sunshine, with crisp blue skies overhead. The whole world—sky, sea and rocky snow-clad buttes of the nearby land—joined to form a cold, ! clean-cut brillance of blue, gold and white that raised our depressed and drooping spirits wonderfully. Of course we were still fast in the pack’s grip. but in that new golden morning light, and feeling the ice mov- ing at last—which meant that leads were bound to open before long—no- body could possibly have continued to_feel blue. ‘With the moving fleld, our saucer had disappeared and the horizon became normal. Between us and the distant horizon line we could make out two other ships, icebound like ourselves. We knew them for the Blue Sea and the Eagle, Ameri- can schooners making their way north for the same reason we were—to barter with the natives along and among the islands of the Siberian Arctic coast, and, above all, to feach the fur mecca known as “Kolyma.” ‘The drift had brought us within about 10 miles of them, and perhaps that fact also helped to give us a pleasant, com- panionable feeling. We were not alone any longer in a desolte white bowl of a world whose edges were raised into jagged ice ]prnjecuons shutting off all familiar or living things. But by the seventh night I turned in with the heaviest heart I had known since we left Tacoma. We were not only far behind in our schedule of sta- tions to be visited (which meant that in order to be out of the Arctic before the Winter night and ice closed in we must skip some of our cells at the least important points), but at the rate of progress we were making there was no certainty that we could stop anywhere, on schedule or off. It seems we hit a hard old ice season. The natives asserted it had been the worst in many years, keeping the seal and walrus far away, while the alter- nately moving or stationary and broken ice fields had increased the difficulties and dangers of hunting polar bear. Early the following morning we found to our delight that several wide leads had opened in the ice overnight. Then we started, with hope renewed for the hundredth time, down one of those trickily promising lanes to freedom and open water. This one let us through for quite a gain, then colsed in ahead, blocking the way abruptly as if suddenly tired of {zlayinz with us, and left us once more icebound—this time not 20 miles from Kaluchin Bay. * ok kX DESPEEATELY we resolved to aban- don the lead running and attempt a long detour into the Arctic to the north, hoping to circle the ice field and so eventually resume our westerly course. Accordingly, we made what proved a g the little Iskum ever farther into h |the unknown seas at the top of the world. Several times we saw great mi- grating flocks of birds flying north over the schooner, and speculated consider- ably on the possible presence of land ahead, or at least some of the high, rocky buttes that are inaccessible to humans, but are used by birds as safe nesting places. ‘We had hoped, as I have explained, by some lucky chance to swing around the pack and reach Kolyma. But hav- ing made our way beyond the 74th par- allel and still finding ice in every direc- tion except to the southeast and south, we finally gave it up and turned back to Cape Serd. Our observations led us to the discouraging conclusion that the ice pack we had encountered at our farthest north was probably the perma- nent polar field. The weather being clear, we were able from the crow’s nest to see a con- siderable distance, and that great end- less fleld of ice with the sun shining on it was a glorious sight. The edges off on the horizon toward the Pole and to the northeast were much broken and piled up, some of them towering in high, masses that resembled small in | snow-covered mountains. On the return trip to Cape Serd we passengers of | had either wide on the rofitless detour to the northward, driv-. 1929_PART 7. BETWEEN US AND THE DIS. TANT HORIZON WE COULD MAKE OUT TWO OTHER AMER- ICAN SHIPS — ICEBOUND LIKE OURSELVES, some of the natives that the schooners Blue Sea and Eagle were still ice-bound in the vicinity of Kaluchin. Rather than run into a similar predicament once more, now that we were safely out of it at last, we determined to give up any further attempts in the way of far- out ocean travel and instead to work our way along the leads between the ice and the shore. ‘This, though a fairly dangerous pro- ceeding, was the only alternative left if we were to reach our stations and traders at Kaluchin, Chaun Bay and Kolyma, as well as the many intermedi- ate points where the season before we had established trade relations with the natives. There were also small traders inland, mostly Chukchis and Deermen (for we were out of the Eskimos’ coun- try since leaving East Cape), who gath- ered trade by dog sled and reindeer over 8 wider area than we could have reached from the schooner. This they brought once a year to one of our sta- tions, usually Kaluchin or Kolyma, to be ready for our coming. ‘These posts must all be visited, re- conditioned and reorganized if we were to realize the profits on our carefully built up organization. We made our way slowly in what little clear water we could find in occa- sional leads, and then, when these failed us, by sen the schooner full speed against the narrowest portion of the ice barrier. Repeatedly we ran lines astern to heavy ice pinnacles and with the combined use of engine, winch and man power pulled ourselves off the ice we. had climbed upon and back into open water, only to send the long-suf- fering little ship full speed again against the blocading ice. * ok k% IT was slow progress, and hard on the schooner, but we did make headway in the direction we wished to go. Our travel in the leads we thus reached was constantly interspersed by dodging large ice floes near shore, where the open water widened, or charging recklessly into and over smaller ones when there was no room for maneuvering. The water must be sounded continu- ously, yet even by throwing the lead every few minutes we were so close to shore that the shallowness not infre- quently put us on sandbars in spite of all we could do. Indeed, we were aground on bars no less than five times in getting to Kaluchin, though fortu- nately we were able on each occasion to back off by reversing our engine. There had apparently never been any accurate charting of that coast, the ouly charts available being most unreliable, ‘This method of navigation became so uncertain and perilous that we finally kept two men out ahead of us in the dory throwing the lead and prodding about with a long pole to make sure we did not strike submerged rocks or fur~ ther bars. It should be remembered that the principal requisite in navigating Arctic waters is to make as much haste as possible, *If you are lucky enough to strike water a mile or more long and much wider than the schooner, you can make up some lost time, and you are not under quite such desperate tension of watchfulness; but when the lead is very narrow, you do not know at what mo- ment the ice will closs up ahead, or about the schooner—either crushing her outright or imprisoning her for an- other long and helpless wait. In the latter case, there is still the always-present chance of the ice far out at sea piling in on the shore ice which has bound your ship, and then—well, that is something navigators in the Arctic do not like to think about. When such a trap is sprung, the stoutest schooner can be splintered to match-wood in less time than it takes to_describe. It was drawing near the last of July. The Captain and Astrosoff (who in- sisted upon doing his full share as & member of the crew) had just, returned from their turn at dory duty, when the wind shfited with great suddenness even for those latitudes, and we found our- ulvtek: beset by heavy weahter from the south. ‘The lead we were then running had a southwesterly course which led us al- most into the teeth of the storm, and it was with the utmost difficulty that the schooner was able to make headway at all against both wind and ice. ‘When morning broke, we beheld the Blue Sea and Eagle still ice-bound, not more than five or six miles away. ‘We had entered Kaluchin Bay and were at the time not such a great dis- tance southeast of our Kaluchin Sta- tion. But though we kept on persist- ently bucking the ice all day, at mid- night we knew it for !‘u losing fight, and hemmed in on all r ships across the (Copyright, 1920.) A Remedy. 3 Driver—Do you sell no-knock gas here? Gassy—VYes, sir, yes, &ir. Dflm—Wlh. mgu some on my knees, will you? Banking Facts for Boys and Girls BY JOHN Y. BEATY, EDITOR bz;.l?'*"' mother, isn't that a pretty little “Yes, Fred. Would you like to have R h, may I have one, mother? Please buy one for me.” “We ‘don’t have to buy them, Fred. ‘These are savings banks and the banker will give you one if you start a savings account here.” This conversation was the beginning of Fred’s bank account. He and his mother went into the bank, deposited a dollar to Fred's account and the banker gave Fred a liitle metal bell that lcoked just like the large bell in a church steeple. All banks have some form of coin bank. This little bell was hollow and it had a hole in the bottom through which coins might be slipped inside. It was locked so that no one but_ the banker could open it. So, when Fred put a coin through the slot it was just about the same as if he had put it into the bank, for he couldn't get it out again without taking it to the banker, whno had the key. Fred was one of those boys who al- ways had trouble saving the money re- ceived. It “burned a hole in his pocket” until it was spent, so his mother was glad to have him get a coin bank. When he arrived home he showed the bank to his father and to his big sister. Sister wanted to see how it worked, so she put a dime through the slot. Then Fred told his dad that it was impossible to get a coin out after you had put it even half way through the slot. Of course, dad had to try it, and after he had inserted a half dollar he tugged and pulled, but he couldn't get it loose, so all that he could do was to push it on through into the bank. So Fred had a nice start on a sav- ings account. He added to this by placing half of all the money he re- ceived into the bank as soon as he re- | ceived it. Finally the bank began to feel heavy. Fred knew that it was nearly full. He put in a few more coins and then took it to the bank. He was eager to learn just how much money he had saved. His father told him that he would give a prize to the one in the family who OF THE BANKERS MONTHLY guessed nearest to the amount in the bank. Mother guessed $5, sister guessed $6.50, but Fred said that his guess was $15. When the bank was opened the banker counted the money. There was a total of $1645. So Fred won &3 prize, which was another dollai. There are many kinds of coin banks. Some are shaped like a ba: are small encugh to car FINALLY THE BANK BEGAN TO FEEL HEAVY. pocket or pocketbook. Some are in the shape of a small house. Others are like a small satchel with a handle. Some are like a book. Most coin banks will take any coin up to a half dollar. All of them will receive paper money, tco. There is a little round hole near the slot through which paper money may be pushed. Coin banks for saving money have been used for thousands of years. When you study ancient history you will learn about Greece. The people of Greece used coin banks made out of clay. To get the money out of them they had to be broken. But the coin banks we use today are made out of metal and may be used a long, long time. Paper Gardening (Continued From Third Page.) carded broom handles, nails and heavy twine. A six-penny nail was driven in each end of one broom handle 38 inches long so that its head protruded 1 inch beyond the wood. Another handle of similar length was fastened to the first, which was placed in the core of the roll of paper. Two pleces of heavy twine or carpenter’s cord 3% feet long were used to link the two| handles together. The gardener walks along the row holding one handle in his hand while the other unrolls the paper behind him. A correspondingly smaller device is used in papering the 18-inch rows. Under the tropical climatic condi- tions which obtain in Hawali, the pine- apple growers and sugar planters who engage in paper farming use specially prepared impervious paper, which is serviceable for five years. This means that they have to cultivate and pre- pare the land but once every five sea- sons, & practice which markedly re- duces production expenses. These planters expend more than $500,000 an- nually for the patented paper, originat- ed expressly for their use. This tropical pineapple industry has also developed a special system of plant- ing which has spread the fame of paper farming around the world. It is known popularly as “the planting- through-holes-in-paper methods.” It fa- cilitates one application of paper to a pineapple field in five seasons, a® subse- quent plantings after the original one can be made merely by cutting new holes in the old paper for successive crops. District gardeners who will take the trouble to cut holes in the paper after it is applied to their gardens in order to plant seed through these apertures may be assured that their garden will be entirely free of weeds. In the pa- pering methods described previously in this article it may be that the grower will have to engage in a little hand weeding, particularly during rainy seasons, where he does not secure per- fect stands of vegetables. Weeds will grow in the unpapered row spaces which are not occupied by the green crop. However, it takes only a little while to remove any such stray weeds which may appear. It is much easier to practice this method and to hand- pull the weeds than to paper the entire garden and plant the seed through holes cut in the paper. * k ok ¥ JURING wet weather it is difficult to enter the ordinary unpapered garden in order to harvest its food crops for table use. As they say in Virginia, you are apt to “bog down” if you attempt such a feat. Paper on your garden serves as a sort of sub- stitute sidewalk. You can pick the ripe vegetables at any time by exer- cising a little care in tramping on the interrow carpet made of paper. ‘This writer has also found the im- pervious paper of measurable utility as a satisfactory mulch for his rose garden and other flowering ornamentals which are spaced symmetrically. In such instances the use of the paper eliminates hand cultivation and pre- vents the growth of objectionable weeds. It also conserves soil moisture during dry weather and assists materially in the develomepnt of the finest flowers which you ever produced. The paper mulch is invaluable for the protection of small ornamental trees set in nur- sery rows previous to permanent trans- planting. Paper gardening in regiops where the planting space is limited effectual- izes maximum yields from minimum soil areas. This is accomplished by planting interrow crops between those already growing. For example, such vegetables as beets, carrots, spinach. lettuce and radishes may be grown in the papered garden as interrow crops between corn, beans and Summer squash or cabbage. Where this prac- tice is followed, the most satisfactory system is to cut holes in the paper for the planting of the successive sow- ings of seed. If your garden is papered, you are assured of clean sanitary vegetables, such as tomatoes, bush beans and cab- bage, which never come in contact with the soil. In the case of tomatoes and other vegetables which are lable to soil bruises, this means eficient pro- tection lnl‘ R’r: such lnjnt;lnu. !\ar.tu-ic growing of \wherries, the paj yle of :m:rsenl.nl is unusually satisfactory. The patch ofs ground set aside for berry production should be papered and should be cut in the paper after aplication for the setting out of the strawberry plants. The paper conserves tees the not only controls weeds and moisture, but also guaran! growth of fine early berries which never come in contact with the soil under- neath the P‘%L In the®latitude of Washington, the amateur gardener who uses the paper Tevarded with vegeiables Feady o the lor table from three to four weeks earlier than normal. One ouf advan- ers early maturity of green vegetables. Last year, this writer ate homegrown sweet corn three weeks earlier than his neighbors, despite that their unpapered gardens were planted several weeks earlier in the Spring than his papered tract. By the use of the paper mulch, sweet potatoes have been grown suc- cessfully as far north as Vermont, & gardening accomplishment heretofore impossible because of the short grow- ing season in the Green Mountain State. f T 'HE Potomac and Anacostia Garden Clubs as well as the Takoma Park Horticultural Club will surely increase measurably in active membership as soon as would-be Washington gardeners gein familiarity with the use of paper as a food growing aid. It serves as a master in taking the muscle soreness, backache and blisters out of gardening. It is efficient as a “scientific autos tom” which relieves vegetable growing and flower raising of most of their drudgery. 3 ‘The current gardening season is sure to see the practice of “paper farming” followed extensively in Takoma Park. Many of the amateur gardeners in that suburb—members of the Takoma Park Horticultural Club—are professional scientists employed by the National De- partment of Agriculture. The majority | of them are familiar with the successfal | paper mulch experiments conducted at Arlington Farm. They will surely avail themselves this season of the practical results of that important research. Many Washingtonians and suburban- ites in adjacent Virginia and Maryland are desirous of beautifying their homes with permanent plantings and orna- mental shade trees, but are deterred by the high prices of such planting material. There is one “horsz sense” system of gaining the goal and avoid- ing these high costs. It is to patronize the annual and semi-annual sales staged by the reliable nursery concerns. Excellent ornamental tree stock of cost= ly. varieties can be secured much be- low normal price levels. It is advisable to purchase small trees, to set them out in nursery rows in your back yard or along the boundary of your lot and to fertilize them generously to expedite | rapid growth. The paper mulch is of importance as a substitute gardener to d in the culture of these trees. Its will conserve soil moisture, prevent weed growth and facilitate the speedy development of the little trees into ever- greens large enough for permanent planting as beautification screens near your house or on the front lawn. *£ e TI-IE gardener who has patience and will procure and plant tree seed instead of buying these ornamentals can further minimize the expenses of his dooryard beautification program. If more trees are grown from seed than can be used advantageously at home, your neighbors or friends without ques- tion will be glad to purchase the sur- plus stocks. ‘The paper mulch as a gardening assistant in the District will reduce production costs in both professional as well as amateur gardens. The vege- table grower who raises foodstuffs for market will find that paper farming can_be modified to serve his needs as profitably as it works for the back yard gardener who aspires only to produce enough truck stuff for home use. .The paper mulch method where practiced by the professional grower permits of the greatest possible yield of market pro_ duce from a small area. It effectual- izes intensive culture of green vegetables and the use of every square inch of garden surface for foodstuff production. Growing vegetables in a garden topped with impervious paper results in yields of early maturing produce which are measurably larger than those har- vested from normal unpapered plots. Under the most favorable conditions, yegetable production has been increased five to six times by the use of the paper mulch. These results were exceptional, however. The average District gardener will find when he tests out the paper mulch system that his stand of vege- tables will be more uniform than ordinary while the produce wiil ma- ture from one to three weeks earlier than normal. His yield will probably be increased from one-half to two-thirds by the use of the paper mulch and in certain cases the harvest may even exceed this average gain. He will be amply repaid, however, it the only benefit which he gains is the elimination of hand cultivation and the efficlent control of weeds during the fhprlnvgl and s:ammer mo?t.hl is e imary advantage of “paper gar- dening” and one which will make the mcflce ofitable even though no other efi results such as have been noted above are apparent. Close Enough. Teacher—Who was King of France during the Revolution? Confused Student—Louls the Thir- teenth—no, the Fifteenth. Fourteenth—no, the—well, was in his teens, .