Evening Star Newspaper, June 29, 1930, Page 25

Part 2—8 Pages WITHDRAWAL FROM RHINE ENDS FRENCH AMBITION 'Hope of Restoring Between German “Natural Frontier” and Latin World Dies With Evacuation. BY FRANK H. SIMONDS. HE withdrawal of the French|™ army of occupation from the Rhineland, which will be prac- tically completed by the date this article is printed, is some- thing more than the-final act in the 4 World War; it represents the visible termination of nearly three centuries of French struggle for the “natural fron- tier.” From the Thirty Years' War to ¥ the Paris Peace Conference the aspira- tion to restore the Roman frontier of Gaul and place the Rhine barrier be- tween the German world and the Latin bhas been at the back of the French mind. The treaty of Westphalia, which gave France its first foothold on the Rhine, ‘was followed by the long series of set- tlements extending from Louis XIV to the French Revolution, by which France successively acquired Strasbourg and the other cities of Alsace-Lorraine, with Nancy; the free city of Mulhouse, and finally, by the treaty of Luneville, the Wwhole of the left bank of the Rhine Jrom Switeerland to the sea. Retreat Begins With Napoleon. ‘With Napoleon begins the retreat. His first abdication marked the sur- Tender of all but Alsace; his second was followed by the loss of the region today known as the Sarre Basin; the Franco- Prussian War and the third Napoleon cost Alsace-Lorraine. But this final loss was redeemed in the World War, while the treaty of Versailles gave France the chance by plebiscite to re- cover the Sarre Basin. But it definitely denied to Prance the Rhine boundary from Cologne to the Lauter, and, as time has demonstrated, held out only an illusory. hope as to the Sarre. Clemenceau in : final book, pub- fished after his death, describes the long struggle in the Peace Conference with Foch and with Poincare behind Foch, who sought to insure at least the Permanent military occupation of the Rhineland. Mangin, the first com- mander of the French troops on the Rhine, maneuvered to that end. Poin- care, as prime minister, gave tacit aid to the abominable intrigues which aimed at setting up an independent Rherish republic. The occupation of the Ruhr was the last stage in this enterprise. Legend Proved Empty Memory. But this same occupation of the Ruhr demonstrated to all reasonable French- men that there was no desire on the part of the Rhinelanders to abandon the German sovereignty. The old legend of revolutionary days, when the French armies had been welcomed on the Rhine, the legend believed and dissem- Inated by Maurice Barree, was proved to be but an empty memory. The unifica- tion of Germany had been a real fact, ‘the work of Bismarck survived. Prance had to choose between creating a new and far greater Alsace-Lorraine and Tecognizing once for all that the dream of the Rhine was dead. Recognition came very rapidly. The defeat of the Nationalists in the elec- tion of 1924, bringing the Left in France briefly to power, was marked by the making of the Dawes plan at Lon- don, which temporarily adjusted the reparations question; by the historic conference at Locarno, which won from Germany the voluntary recognition of the French possession of Alsace-Lor- raine. and by’ the 1926 session of the League of Nations at Geneva, which saw the entrance of Germany into the Ifngue and her return as a European state. Five years after Locarno the French troops “are going home, and during these five years they have remained not 4.50 much as a guarantee against a fresh German invasion as an insurance of reparations payments. With the mak- ing of the Young plan, this end is also attained. Moreover, in supporting the Young plan in the French Parliament ‘Tardieu bluntly told his fellow coun- trymen that even should German pay- ments fall. a new occupation of the G]crman Rhineland would not place. « Sought Advance to Berlin. Events have moved so quickly that it is now difficult to recover the state of mind of the period, almost 12 years ago, when American, British, Belgian and French soldiers maved across the ruins of the devastated area to. occupy Cologne, Coblenz and Mayence. Then the allied world, incredulous as to the fact of the sudden and complete col- lapse of Germany, fearful of a swift Tenascence of the armies which for four years had more than held their own 8gainst the world in arms, saw in the( German surrender only a snare, in the :upntlon of the Rhineland only an dequate insurance, and clamored in @many capitals for the advance to Berlin. It took almost a decade to convince the allied public of the reality of the German revolution, of the disappearance of the German menace, of the fact that Germany after 1918, like France after 1871, was bound in the very nature of things to devote long years to national reorganization and reconstruction. It seems only yesterday that the press still talked suspiciously of a new Ger- man war of revenge, and stuck to the legend of a Germany undefeated and behind & veil preparing vast military ‘ to}x;c!: for a new irruption beyond the e. Little by little it has become clear, however—clear even in Belglum and France—that the great mass of the German people have accepted the sult of the World War as a final demon- stration of the futility of all pan-Ger- man plans of recovering ‘the frontiers of Charlemagne and Charles V. The World War for both the German and French peoples decided the question of the frontiers between Teuton and Latin, which have been in debate for all the centuries since Caesar built his bridge on the Rhine, to the enduring sorrow of many generations of schoolboys. ‘Today there is hardly a trace left in France of the old sentiment for the possession of the Rhine frontler. Nor is there discoverable in Germany any more considerable public opinion insis- tent upon a return to Metz and Stras- bourg. The return of Alsace to France has led after a brief honeymoon to more disillusionment than satisfaction. The memory of half a century of unwelcome occupation serves today to cool German patriotic imagination. Change Since Locarno. Since Locarno there has been a total change in Franco-German relations. On the economic side co-operation has gone far; on the cultural side progress has been striking. All the passionate bit- terness which invasion and devastation aroused in France have diminished; in Germany the similar emotions provoked by the Ruhr have died away. Even the continuation of the occupation has failed to provoke those incidents which were so familiar in the early years. Only symbolically will the final evacuation have vital significance. But what of the future? Will the long centuries of history repeat them- selves after a few brief years of truce? Oddly enough, this question is- giving only the smallest measure of concern in France. Looking back, not 10 years but barely 5, it is incredible that evacu- ation should arouse so little .fear, pro- test or even comment. The return to the frontier of the treaty of Versailles, Wwhich is the frontier of 1815, and with very slight modifications of 1715, is ac- cepted almost without a murmur. Moreover, if only Pranco-German is- | sues divided the two great peoples, it is | clear to all observers that the chances of collision in the future would be small. In neither country is there to- day the smallest effective or influential group advocating a war to change the boundaries. But, unhappily, in the wider question of n irs, the division between the two nations en- dures, and even threatens to become acute as time passes. For France stands forth the unmis- takable champion of the status quo not only on the Rhine but on the Vistula, the Danube and the Upper Elbe. She is the ally not only of Belgium but of Poland Czechoslovakia, of the states | ;hmch hnvemutkgnluerman territory. ¢ opposes that union of Germany and Austria, which is one of thé great pend- Ing issues of contemporary Europe. Founded Upon Experience. ‘This French policy, too, is rooted in French tradition and founded upon bit- ter lessons of experience. France does not fear the Germany of togay. but she still views apprehensively the possibili- ties which might follow the expansion of Germany by the inclusion of Austria and the recovery of the Polish Corridor; she still fears the consequences of a revival of the old conception of Mittel- europa, with its background of Conti- nental hegemony. Thus in an odd way, as Austria was the protagonist of the settlement of {1815 ‘and Metternich maintained the system of the Congress of Vienna until 1848 against a spirit of revolution which had its real source of inspiration in Prance, the French Republic has adopted the Austrian role. Germany, moreover, has every reason and tempta- tion to imitate the French course be- tween 1815 and 1860 to destroy a sys- tem founded upon her defeat, as the system of Vienna was based upon | ke | Waterloo, Patently Germany has not yet made up her mind. She is struggling with domestic problems of all sorts, far too absorbing and acute to permit the de- velopment of a systematic foreign pol- dcy. Al her cabinets since 1919 have lived from hand to mouth and from day to day. The German Republic is not yet 12 years old, and it is worth recalling that the Bourbons after their restoration in 1815 lasted but 15 years. Nevertheless, the great question re- mgins, What will German policy be when at last Germany is herself again? It may accept the conception of a Franco-German co-operation, political as well as economic, insuring German economic mastery of the Continent, along with French political ascendancy. or it may adopt an independent lins designed {o upset the settlement of 1919 in all the east and center of Europe, And in the latter case a new collision on the Rhine is probable. For the present, however, it is clear that the evacuation of the Rhineland does mean not merely the end of a re- cent_conflict, but the tion of an age-long struggle between the German and French peoples on terms which both accept with no evident. unwilling- ness or secret evasion. (Copyright, 1930.) " Stresses on Various Airplane Parts Measured by Use of Soap Bubbles Engineers have taken up the childish pastime of blowing bubbles in their studies of the strength of airplane con- struction. George W. Thayer, a re- search engineer, speaking before the faculty conference of the University of ‘Wisconsin’s Enginee; at - ‘waukee, recently, explained how the use of thin soap film over specially designed holes enabled scientists to compute e stresses in ai: parts. QOne of the principal difficuities in using the soap method for investi- ting torsional stresses, as described E;. Mr. Thayer, was that the ordinary. soap bubble is a fragile thing totally ‘unsuited to stan the wear and tear Persistent effort the ‘production of a soap film that will last for a day under jJous measurements. % Section of the airpiane Part Whien O ine w] be studied is cut in a metal plate. this hole is swept a film of soap sweep of the type that was used . duced in the airplane part by the loads and twisting it will ;’:flerb’ln service. The soap film is not loaded -or twisted; it so happens that there is a curious between the contours of bubble and the stresses in the ain h% part whose cross-section it npre.le'lkyu. Ruins of Carthage Are Being Excavated New excavations are being conducted &t Carthage under the supervision of the French ent .and. the agency of the Service des Antiquites ‘Tunisiennes.” -Volstead days to remove the ex- | lous pre- ys cess suds from a glass ; the film is blown up slightly by a cur- rent of pure air. Ordinary human ~ breath would destroy the film within too short a period of time. The next step is to measure the I . tedious process lar to the work which is done surveyor in n'.hpnhr;n( fleld data and maj topography. v “:fthh step is completed the in- yestigator has data from which he can Bcmpute the stresses that will be 'pro- of simi- by a land | covered, EDITORIAL SECTI he Sunday Star. -WASHINGTON, D. C., BY ABBE ERNEST DIMNET, Canon of Cambral Cathedral. N 1919, shortly after the Versailles treaty was signed, M. Raymond Re- couly, the present editor of the Revue de Prance, had the good for- | tune to enter into semi-intimate re- | lations with Marshal Foch. Every fort- night or s0 he called on him at his office when the day's work was nearly done, and the two men talked. Some- times M. Recouly would walk along with the marshal from the Boulevard des In- 1 valides, where the generalissimo's head- quarters were, to his house in the Rue de Grenelle. This went on for nine years, so that M. Recouly had over a hundred definite chances of asking his interlocutor questions concerning men or _facts. M. Recouly used to belong to the dip- lomatic service, which in itself is a practical preparation for the under- standing of history in the making, and, being a school of curlosity, is also a per- fect preparation for interviews of the more serious kind. Visibly he, like Maj. Bugnet, whose book “’En I'coutant Foch” is delightfully human reading, found endless fascination in listening to a soldier who, besides being a historical character, had always been, and still very consclously, a student and thinker. The penetration and originality of Foch found a well prepared Boswell. |On the other hand, M. Recoulv is a Journalist, and there is little doubt that he heard the marshal say. He tells us that he s an infallible memory and can boast that the records of his conversations with Foch are as accurate as gramophone disks. He is no doubt absolutely honest in saying so, but jour- nalists of high or low degree always know what they want from the person they interview, and it takes a good deal of practice, or more prudence than sol- diers usually possess, to dodge a re- porter’s tricks. Records Rapidly Accumulate. However accurate or inspired M. Re- couly’s notes were, they gradually ac- cumulated, and several years before the death of Foch there were enough for the good sized volume which M. Recouly had had in his mind all the time. So | he had the manuscript typed and sub- mitted it to the marshal, who made few minor alterations. The book wi M. Recouly tells us, on the eve of going to the printer when Marshal Foch with- drew his authorization. The financial crisis was at its worst (1926) and Foch disliked the prospect of “controversy at such & time. Let us wait,” he con- cluded. So M. Recouly waited till the | Spring of 1929, when “Le Memorial de Foch” was published by the Editions de France and immediately caused a con- siderable commotion. The reason was not that the in spite of its journalese and desultory ap- pearance, testified to the culture—aston ishingly diversified—of the late general- issimo and to his incapacity to think second-hand thoughts, but on several issues—and, above all, on a vital ques- tion of post-war politics—it showed an attitude in absolute contradiction with Fun Every Pleasure in Soviet Russia Must Have a Social or Political Aim in New Scheme of Things. BY BEN JAMES. HOOPEE for whoopee's sake is taboo in modern Russia. Although the masses have greater facilities for amuse- ment and more opportunity to make use of them than they ever had under the Czar, there is no fun without & purpose. The regulation and promotion of entertainment are in the hands of the commissar of education, who dresses the solemn doctrines of communism in caps and bells and sends them out to play with the people. Pan frolics with Karl Marx and dances a measured tread defined by psychologi- cal formulas. His eyes, no longer flash- the spontaneous joy of an indi- vidual free and singing in a gay world, glitter with righteous determination to caper decorously as a single submerged that can be adapted to her purpose of establishing a collective-minded, state- conscious nation. All diversions that cannot by ‘some twist be construed to serve the cause of collectivism are dis- carded. In this land, where a man may arrive home at sundown and find notice that hi }:o'fleery, store, but cocktail parties are wned .upon as the raucous writhin of inferior souls escaping from them- ‘Tuere is no amusement without & social ‘or political aim. Sports to Insure Health. Sports are organized to insure healthy armies k::d workers; ite: inwardly he often made copy of what | UPPER: SKETCHES OF CLEMEN PEACE AN OT A MERE TRI LOWER: PORTRAIT OF FOCH, T! HAVE OCCUPIED THE RHINE.” that of the great French treaty maker, Clemenceau. Even during the war things did not| always run smoothly between the gen-| eralissimo and the French premier, who seemed to be, and no doubt often felt himself to be, a dictator. Clemenceau knew that Foch owed his position to SUNDAY MORN. NG, JUNE 2 'EAU, THE PREMIER—*“I WANTED EATY: 1 WANTED A PROTECTIVE PACT.” | HE GENERALISSIMO—*WE SHOULD him and expected from him more sub- | servience than he could have hoped for from another. Foch, on the other hand, with his sweet smile and childlike ex- pression, also with a certain capacity for boyish intriguing, habitual to sol- diers when they have to go around influential civilians, knew how to ma. 9, 19307 France’s Battle of Heroes Foch Vs. Clemienceau—Was Their Mistrust Greater Than Their Many Acts of Confidence Revealed? neuver and, when dodging became im- possible, knew how to say no. ‘The two men differed about the very conception of a generalissimo. Clemen- ceau considered that the chief of the allled armies should take full respon- sibility and treat the foreign generals under him exactly like his own com- | patriots. He knew that this could not | always be done without friction, but| he thought that an appeal to the King of England’s government or to President Wilson must inevitably break down pos- sible resistance. Foch took a different view. A soldier | among soldiers, he disliked the very idea of introducing civilian supremacy where it had no business to be. More- over, he knew how difficult the nego: tiations toward unity of command had n. He cannot have been much sur: prised when he read in Marshal Hgig's official reports after the war that the English reinforcements he received dur- ing the Summer of 1918 were given him not because he was the generalis- simo, but, in the words of the British general, “because he was known to be & man of foresight and determination.” Finally Foch was deeply impressed by the fact that, in the early part of the war—during the battle on the Yser— he had managed to act as a generalis- simo of the Belgian and British as well as of his own forces, although he had no official position enabling him to do s0, simply because his strategic cer- tainties were magnetic and his determi- nation was contagious. Foch Takes Firm Stand. So when ‘Clemenceau wanted him to write to Gen. Pershing in the tone “i & superior, he refused to do so, and Clemenceau, insisting that as minister of war he could give orders to the generalissimo, Foch answered with a curious reasoning. “In so & French general,” he said, am | der your orders, but as the generalis-| simo of foreign forces I escape your authority.” Clemenceau suspected that this nicety originated with,. M. ~Poin= ca oppos iajly regare the treaty that the “Memdrial” shows irreducible ition between Clemen- ceau and Foch. Except that this time it seems to be Clemenceau who takes the right view of the eontingencies he had to deal with, while Foch adopts the doctrinaire attitude supposed to be- long to_his o ent. On October 16, 1918, Foch, having no more doubts about the military occasion and seeing his chance of crushing the German | armies al the whole line, wrote to Clementeau. In this letter he stated his certainty that the Germans mus before long asking for an armistice, and added his helief that the fate of the Rhineland should be decided in the | draft of the armistice itself instead of remaining in suspense till peace ne- | | gotiations began. | | Political solutions, Foch concluded | would depend largely upon- the final military solutions. Therefore the allied | commander must have some idea of (Continued on Fourth Page.) | for Fun’s Sake Goes | e | “REMEMBER, THIS IS A SPORT AN gles for individual victory and cheers its winning. When generous share of the burdens erection of a new social order it as bourgeoisie that S LS e ult to . ami cabaret _entertainments ' in - restaurants fun is saddled with a|afford the incident wm a strained, self-conscious mien, | the thrill | * Diversions branded p | remain D NOT A GLADIATORIAL GAME.” The cities are not for the new worker. ese places, but they are scarce. t| Leningrad has two sullen restaurants with entertainers, but in only one can also are two. But you do not find the ance. are al ex- clusively by the social outcasts. patrons dance. In Moscow there | tat eigners who are residents of the coun- try, employed as technical experts or carrying on businesses by government concession, travelers and tourists make up the bulk of the crowd. Nepman Is Cautious. The haunted Russian nepman, or private business man who operates un- der a concession granted by the gov- ernment for which he pays the state an eromuos share of his profits for the privilege of trading, is also a frequent though sardonic guest at these bour- geoisie playgrounds. He dares not spend too much money, have too good & time or make any show of ostenta- tation, lest it indicate excessive wealth and his taxes increase as a result. For Soviet secret police make whoopee in these suspected cafes in much the fashion that prohibition agents attend night clubs in America. Lunarcharsky, the commissar of edu- cation, whose wife is iped about for her display of sables and bour- geoisie manners, has declared the fox trot and similar dances evidences of a decadent civilization and rot for the new Russian. This sounds puritanical from a man who is laying the educa- tton;l ‘?r‘:d“”n ‘for themuxeptln: of the sex relations ‘vogue the land. And it is a red puritanism. Sex, he belleves, should be severely rele- gated to the strict limits of biol 1 necessity, and within those limits given complete freedom. Time and energy spent dallying with its lighter phases, B N S ma; work _of nu?'iuu."u loyal subjects of - munism rflo nfli‘d“ trot. R l“ Other forms of dancing, ', & approved and fostered by the state. Any steps that can be done in groups serve the triple pura)ole of recreation, y physical culture and the development of a collective hology. Esthetic dances and ballets of a sort are taught in trade union clubs and schools as a part of the pl 1 training course. Peasants’ clubs and community cen- ters in the country districts are still the scene of their folk dances, and special instruction is given in those violent, ' exhausting steps done to a barbaric r) and accompanied by cohsiderable high-pitched yelping on the part of both the dancers and spec- tors. .ul:houfll the proletariat. do not gen- erally (\lfln‘rbfl'ed 1,4 t the few cafes having Western and revues, they go ENLARGED U. S. MUSEUM TO FACILITATE SCIENCE DATA Crowding of Exhibits Will Be Relieved by $6,500,000 Appropriation Under Smoot-Elliott Bill. N passing the Smoot-Elliot bill Con- gress has authorized an appropri- ation of $6,500,000 for the enlarge- ment of the National Museum and at the same time has taken cog- nizance of the almost universal interest in pure science. It also means that the Smithsonian Institution will have necessary space, and that the museum will be equipped for additional exhibits of a scientific nature. The Natural History building has long needed more room to store and study the growing collactions of every- thing found in naturs, from ancient specimens of (he deep sea to the skele- tons of long extinct animals as well as specimens of every creature now roam- ing the earth. Pure science has had to justify itself and prove its worth. There has been bitter opposition to this large expen- diture of money in the past. ‘“‘Just to gather knowledge that has no utili- tarian value,” is one way that money donated for pure science has been re- garded by some critics. One man went 50 far as to accuse the institution of waste in spending money for the pub- lication of a study for sea weeds. But during the first part of the twentieth century men oth-r than scientists have come 1 see the worth of pure science and have given 1. their support. Service tc Jil Industry. ‘Twenty-five year: ago Joseph Cush- a specialist 11 the National Mu- receiving Government compensa- tion of $600 & year, described and named the microscopic shells of tiny animals called “foraminifera,” which were found in thousands of samples of mud from the bottom of the sea. The mud was & part of a large collection of the museum and would, at first gla; appear to be of small use to man-—probably less than anything in the museum. But 10 years ago oil companies discovered that the fossils of these same animals, found to occur in certain strata in the Southwestern oil felds, could be made to identify the strata and thus serve as a guide to the Ppresence of ofl, if a were found to identify the foraminifera. The Smithsonian collections provided the means and Joseph Cushing had the knowledge. Thus the man, the collec- tion and publications on foraminifera became at once factors worth millions to_the oil industry. Many instances could be pointed out to show the great utilitarian value of the immense collections of the tional Museum and the intense studies of the institution in correlating knowl- edge so that it may be used efficiently. The real work of the Natural History Museum is done in the seclusion of the laboratories and until recently has been unknown by many who casually vie the exhibits in the great halls. One example serves to show the reldtion be- tween the study collection and the ex- hibit collection in the department of mammals. The number of speeimens in the study collection recently was 210,- 000, whfl;o the exhibit collection num- a- Source of Basic Data. ‘The Smithsonian Institution has built up at the National Museum the most complete collection of the natural his- tory of North America in existence, largely at the expense of its private funds. The Government departments and friends from all over the world have contributed greatly. The collec- tion as a result is a source book of fun- damental data. Yet it is far from come= plete. It can never be, Great gaps exist in all departments of the collection. What difference does that make? The answer is simple. Agriculture has to war unceasingly with insect pests of all kinds. Frequently a new type of pest shows up, like the bean beetle, the boll weevil, the Japanese beetle. Fighting the pest without knowing what it is, where it comes from, what its natural enemies are, is like boxing in the dark. Only a great collection of | carefully studied insects from all over the world can make possible the neces- | sary identification. The Smithsonian | has the largest insect collection, run- | ning into millions. Collections must |aim" toward absolute completeness. So basic is this fact that the Smithsonian sends out annually to the limit of its funds, private as well as Government, expeditions to all parts of the world to collect in all fields of natural history. Organized in 1839, It is now almost a century ago that an English scientist, James Smithson, who died in 1829, bequeathed funds to | establish in Washington an_institution |“for the increase and diffusion of | knowledge.” ~ After 10 years the Con- | gress finally organized the Smithsonian Institution with a compromise charter. | The charter did not mention the prin- cipal activity of the institution—re- search in pure science. But it did au- | thorize the institution to erect a bujld ing for the reception and exhibition of “all objects of art and of foreign and curious research” and of natural his- tory of the United States Joseph Henry and Spencer F. Baird, | first_secretary and assistant secrétary of the Smithsonian, directed the mu- {seum to serve in the field of research, They systematized the collection of plants, minerals, animals and of ethnol- ogical materia) native to this continent. Instead of burying it on tae shelves, they distributed it to scientists and speciai- |ists all over the world to have them study it and report on it. | The work progressed, and in 1870 Congress made an appropriation toward | the. support of the museum. In 1877 Congress gave $250,000 for the arts and | industries building. In 1907 $3,500,000 | was appropriated for the National Mu- | seum Buildin, And now tie Government recognizes | the importance of pure research, for the whole country in passing the Smovie Elliott bill without a dissenting vote. | Staff of Ninety Scientists, | The Smithsonian has a permantat | staff of 90 scientists who are constantiy |at work on the collections. The mu- | seum provides facilities for hundreds of | visiting specialists from all countries ta | study the material that interests them. | ... The new extension of the Natural | History Building will about double the | present floor space of 9!, acres. In ad- dition to increased room for exhibits, this will permit enormous expansion of collections which are nowsgnsufficient, due to overcrowding. ‘The exhibit function of a museum | has, in addition to its educational value, |a reference and historical value. This is specially true of the arts and indus- tries collection of the National Mu- | seum, which is at present squeezed into the old red brick building next to the | Smithsonian Building. Fatent disputss involving great sums have been settled | out of court by referente to exhibits m | this _building *determining priority ,of | invention. % Iceland Is Found Strikingl);*Coiorfu.l Despite Bleak Climate of Arctic Region NOTE—Iceland is preparing to re- ceive 25,000 visitors who are expected 1o visit her shores this month, when the 1,000th anniversary of her Par- liament will be celebrated. Delega- tions from many countries will at- tend, including representatives of the Congress of the United States. The following article is descriptive of the country and its people. l small island, icebound the major part of the year, whose inhabitants, like Eskimos, wear furs the year round and live in igloos. Small wonder that this is so, for Iceland, lying across the threshold of the Arctic, 300 miles north of Labrador and nearly twice as far north of Scotland and Norway, suggests by both its name and geographical posi- tion a land of ice and intense cold. One's first visit to Iceland is therefore & continuous series of shocks and sur- prises. The chief port, Reykjavik, is open 12 months of the year, thanks to the Gulf Stream, which, encircling the island, has given it a climate compar- able to the Dakotas and Manitobas. The Icelandic people, though somewhat different from the peopl® in this country, are no less civilized and in some instances much more cultured. Reykjavik Art Center. Visiting Iceland to pass the major part of the time in the capital city, Reykjavik, with its scant 12,000 citizens, graunun letters of Introduction and ecoming acquainted with its friendly cltizens may not seem a thorough way to investigate a strange country; but it is the way in which one reaches an un- derstanding of the urbanites iri Iceland, which include the merchant, the fisher- man, the poet, the painter, the sculptor, the musician, the professor, the baker. Each of the arts is represented in Réykjavik. There also one sees schools, churches, banks, library and museum, and learns also to l‘m:eiclk how the Icelander has capit d the peculiar benefits nature bestowed when she re- pented having sent earthquakes. It is usually at the Westmann Islands that the coast of Iceland first becomes visible. These islands belong to Iceland, and indeed the amount of fishing and bird hunting that goes on there is Enur than in the home island; but it no place for the traveler to linger. Dense clouds enshroud the tops of the Westmann rocks in gloomy obscurity. The atmosphere on land, with thou- sands of fish lying on the stones to be sun dried, or being smoked in their spe- cial houses, is sufficlent to keep the curious from leaving the boat. Home of Great Auk. ‘The coastline of Iceland looms ever on the right as the boat gradually draws near Reykjavik. Barren rocks, golnud like cathedral spires, rise 500 feet straight from the water. The mainland, jutting out in the form of a boot at Reykjanes, the most south- westerly point in Iceland, has piled up at its sole several tiny island rocks, “Fuglasker,” the home of the great auk, a species of bird life supposed to be ex- tinct. ' As the vessel dips out to skirt the boot, glimpses may be seen of the mountain tops in Iceland's interior. From the imposing entrance into BY MAURINE ROBB. CELAND is little more than a word to the average person. If it carries any meaning, it is a mere suggestion of a Faxafjordr, the ‘broad, 50-mile bay in which the harbor of Reykjavik lies, a chain of 100 mountains running from nerth to south presents a striking background of rugged beauty. Glitter- ing ice outlines their summits, except for certain peaked purple crags where the snow can never find a resting place. Rising from the sea to the north of the fjord is the volcano Snae- fell-Jokull, like a silver pyramid with a cleft toothed top. Lined With Eider Ducks. ‘The shores of the harbor are lined with eider ducks, fishing boats lie at anchor, and beyond are the low, square buildings of Reykjavik's wharves. As one nears the shore, there is a sugges- tion of Scotland in the heather tints on the hills beyond the city. But the atmosphere is more intense. The light is more vivid. The hills are steeper, more gaunt and lofty. Color is the most beautiful distinc- tion in Iccland’s somewhat meager scenic offerings. Sharp purples dye one mountain, leaning against another Which the sun has outlined in bur- nished gold. The snow at times seems fo have caught fire at the mountain's top and to' be sending tongues of flame |into a sky storked with deepest azure. The business streets and the streets in Reykiavik's more pretentious resi. dential districts have been paved, and the houses, especially those fringing the clear lake huddled in the center of the city, are almost palatial, They are constructed of painted wood, on the same square plan as their mean neigh- bors near the wharf, but with lofty towers and gables resembling the prows of Viking ships. Except for these tow- ers they might be called Colonial in de- sign. Their interiors are identical with the old-time houses of New England. Suggestive, too, of the early days. in Pennsylvania are the Pranklin stoves in many of the parlors. Fuel Still a Problem. The problem of fuel is one of Ice- land's greatest. All coal is imported, and_consequently expensive, especially in the interfor where it 1s transported in hampers on the backs of ponies. As a result the poor must do without. Yet there is no wood either, since Iceland has no trees, except for a few birch “forests,” where the trees are young saplings, and a few mountain ash under 20 feet high. An ash in Akureyri which attained a height of 28 feet is displayed as one of the wohders of the country. But there is peat, and just on the hem of Rekjavik's skirts lies a peat pit owned by the city, where at any hour of the day energetic Iceland men, wom- en and children are to be seen busily engaged in digging and loading peat. They pay a small price for this priv- ilege. At the numerous peat pits in Iceland the same system is employed. During the Winter the cakes of t, after being dried, are stored in long, low buildings, accessible to the com- munities they will keep warm while the <old weather endures, How to Keep Young? From the Louisvil'e Courier-Journal. New York jewelers have started a campaign against shirts with collar and cuff buttons attached. They should adopt a slogan, “Huné Your Collar But- ton and Keep Young.” | For- (oanv on Fourth Page.)