Evening Star Newspaper, November 1, 1931, Page 99

PUZZLES e Great oaks from little acerns grow, and great puzzles may grow from little acorns, tdo! This one will keep you busy for a few minutes, at least. THE ACORN. 1. Tree which grows from an acorn. 3. Loose, slack. 5. Sweet potato. 8. Substance exuded by some trees. 10. A thick black liguid. 11. Kind of tree. A kind of hardwood. . Before, . Female sheep. . Right guard (abbr.). . Within. . The fruit of the oak. . Negative. . Agricultural student (slang). . Pale. . VERTICAL. . Beast of burden. . Blue Grass State (abbr.). . Cut timber. . Part of “to be.” . Near. . Young girl. . Point of the compass (abbr.). . Chopping tool. . Gardening tool. . A wind instrument. . In debt. . Therefore. 22. Farm animal. 23. Moved swiftly. i —2— Now come two-word chains which are all about trees. Change one letter at a time, al- ways forming a real word, and so change ths first word to the second. Change SEED to TREE in five moves. Change LEAF to FALL in five moves. il Each of the following strange words is the name of a tree, with the letters jumbled up. A little thought should enable you to straighten them out. 1. DOORWED. 2. SCAUM. 3. RACED. 4. CHOYIRK. PR NE Four other trees are hidden in this picture puzzle. GUESS THESE 4 KINDS OF TREES How many letters in “Acom?” make 11?7 Try it! words can you form from the Do you think you can Figure It Out “Why are we so late, conductor?” “Well, the train in front was behind, and train was behind before besides.” A scientific expert says that fish kil mosqui- pes. But who wants to keep a fish on his pil- ? THE SUNDAY ®STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, NOYEMBER 1, 1931, BY W. BOYCE MORGAN. AY DUNNE approached his home ‘with the dressing covered an ugly cut on his chin. he gingerly moved his left shoul- had been wrenched rather badly tackled the second-string fullback L) if tice that afternoon. didn’t mind the shoulder so much, though really & more annoying injury than the chin. He could conceal the shoulder other if he was careful when he in any hide that E§§§z§ m his coat or moved that o t how in the world could eut on his chin? “Jt sticks out like a sore thumb,” he lamented “It's worse than a thumb. I could g LT just no place to hide a bandaged chin.” Ordinarily these injuries would not bother & member of a high school foot ball team, for they were not dangerous, and a few minor a perfect horror of foot ball, and lived in econ- stant fear that Ray would be badly hurt play- ing the game. It had been bad enough the year before, when Ray played on the freshman team. But the freshmen played only a few games, and Ray had managed to convince his mother that there was very little danger. Even so, he played only over her constant protests. Luck- ily, he had gone through the season without a mishap of any sort. A’l‘tbebefinnmgofmnyeu’.vmhem- nounced his intention of going out for the “regular team,” Mrs. Dunne had protested more vigorously than ever. The argument had lasted for days, and Ray could not say that he had really won it. He merely had played in spite of everything his mother could say to prevent it. The one argument that had saved the day for him was his cousin, Johnny Fitzpatrick, who was playing his third year as right guard on the State University team. Johnny was Ray's idol, and whenever all other arguments failed, he would say to his mother: “Look at Johnny. He has played all through high school and college and has never had any- thing worse than a sprained ankle or a scratch. There's no reason why I can’t do that, too.” This might silence Mrs. Dunne for the time being, but in & short time she would see an item in the paper about some boy being hurt playing foot ball, and then the argument would begin again. One day she read of a boy who had died as the result of a foot ball injury, and Ray still shuddered at the memory of that. His mother had cried and almost made herself sick worrying over him, and Ray himself had felt so sorry for her that he was miserable, WBAT could he do? He loved the game, and the school needed him. If he quit playing he would be called “yellow.” All those things would not have counted with Ray if he had been convinced that his mother was justi- fled in not wanting him to play. But he could not help feeling that her fears were unreason- able. He had tried to get her to attend the games, so that she might bscome enthused over foot ball, but she absolutely refused to go near the fleld. He showed her that other fathers and mothers let their sons play—in fact, were glad they had the chance to learn the lessons that foot ball taugbt a boy—but that meant nothing to Mrs. Dunne. She merely said that those parents must not think as much of their sons as she thought of Ray. of it was that Ray realized his mother's fears were for his sake, and that made it all the harder to go on playing irf the of her oppositinn, Ray's futher was dead, . I %e BOYS and GIRLS PAGE not bear to think of anything happening to him. These thoughts ran through Ray’s mind as he walked the remaining distance to his home, steeling himself for the ordeal that was to come. Luckily, he had gone through the season to date without any injury. And he had played first team part of the time, meant benching Pred Lundquist, a veteran of last year's team. Ray had played at least half of the last three games, but it was not until this afternoon in practice that he had been hurt. And then had come not one injury, bu two. W‘E:LL, with luck he would keep the lame shoulder from his mother. But the cut chin would be bad enough. He opened the door, tossed his hat on a chair in his careless way, and yelled a greeting to his mother, who was preparing supper in the kitchen. “Hi, mother!” he called. *“Supper almost ready? I'm as hungry as a bear.” Mrs. Dunne replied, and a moment later came into the dining room, where Ray was already seated at the table. For a moment she did not notice the bandage on his chin. When she did, she stopped and uttered a little gasp. You're hurt!” she exclaimed. “What happened?” “Oh, it’s nothing; Mother,” said Ray. a scratch on my chin.” Mrs. Dunne stood looking at him for a mo- ment. Then she slowly 'walked to the kitchen. A moment later she returned with a steaming dish which she placed on the table, then sat down at her chair. Ray glanced up. She was gazing at him steadily with tear-filled eyes. *“Oh, Mother!” cried Ray. “Please don’t be foolish. Why, this scratch on my chin is no worse than a cut you might get on your finger, paring apples. You aren’t going: to carry on about it, are you?” Mrs. Dunne said nothing for a moment. When she did speak her voice was choked. “I can’t understand you, Ray,” she said. “Why do you insist on playing that awful game when you know how it worries me?” “But Mother,” protested Ray, “there’s no reason for worry. Oh, if you'd only come and see me play some time! The coach thinks I'm doing fine. I'll probably play the whole game against Martinsville Saturday.” “Just HEN the argument began again. In the midst of it, Ray moved his arm too sud- denly, and winced as his shouider hurt him. In a flash his mother was questioning him about that. Ray wotild not tell her an untruth, and things got even worse. By the time the meal was°over Mrs. Dunne was in tears, and Ray was so upset that he ate scarcely anything. He usually helped his mother with the dishes, but tonight he went straight to his room. He got out his books and tried to study, but could not. How much longer was this battle going to continue, he wondered. Was foot ball worth it? Sometimes he just felt like turning in his uniform and quitting. But what would the coach say? What would the fellows think? Then suppose he really was seriously hurt? He knew how much his mother depended on him. What if he cost her a lot of doctor bills, besides the worry that would come to her if he were injured? And fellows did get hurt play- ing foot ball sometimes—badly hurt now and then. Ray didn’t sleep much that night, and the next afternoon in practice he was not himself. The coach looked at the injured shoulder and pronounced it quite all right. But Ray, in the abnormal state of mind brought about by the events of the night before, imagined that it still hurt him a good deal made him practice for only a short scrim- mage, but in that brief session Ray had an- CRAFTS JOKES PUZZLES : to the load that was ale position at left end, Ray t down fast under one of Jim Bradley’s long . The second team quarterback ecaught the kick when Ray was almost upon him. I$ Ray, got past the other end, and Tew turned the punt 35 yards before he was downed, “What’s the idea, Ray?” said Coach Culberts son sharply. “Afraid of hurting yourself? You certainly looked bad on that one.” (To be continued next Sunday.) RIDDLES Thank you, riddle fans, thank you! The riddles have been coming in to the Riddle Mag in fine shape. Here are five more for all you readers to rack your brains over. ¢ Don't forget to send in your own riddle, if yod know & good ,new one. Address the Riddle Man in care of this mewspaper. 1. When butter is worth 20 cents a pound, what will a ton of coal come to?—Daisy man. you put on your slipper?—] 3. What is that which is full of holes and yet holds water?—Mary Mulder, 4. How many sides has a pitcher?—James Nolan. 5. What do we often return but never bobw row?—Hagzel V. Hammond. ster's dictionary. 4. At Camelot. 5. John Buns . 6. The boomerang. 7. The device by which a parachute is opened. " Common Grasshoppers. §y eight-story building in one leap. And if you could make as much noise, comparatively; as the grasshopper, you would deafen every= body in the neighborhood. Yet, in spite of the powers, the grasshopper 53k deaf, deal, flell, fell, FALL, sp€n, teak and boxwood. can, coip, con, OF, onm, ANy .