The evening world. Newspaper, July 15, 1916, Page 8

as ai PeTAMiAenED HY? Deity Recens tt ot ihe Pog ore tee ie We 6 et New York as Re ont ene vung bor England ona the | Al Conmtrrcs te the Peete! Cele Tor ne Month NO. SPORT IN AMERICA. IDSBUMMER, 1916, finds the United States not only th scourge of , and the mort industrious in business, but the do all branches of sport. The season of outdoor games te now! Bb ite height 1! oe the lrom Duke believed, Waterloo was won on the playing fields of ton, then we may pect to derive real Lenefi Be which our youth ot A great revival of ding to their etrength and endurance. ted Ku rope : When announcement was made that the historic Derby would not be (un we could wlmont as easily have believed that the Themes had to run bec Wward The Grand I’rix, blue ribbon event of the Prench turf, was trane ferred to peaceful Spain ft, Perbaps he might not have done as well at home, for the horses thie season have been running as though the honor of the game was im their keeping and they knew it. If the sport can be kept clear of the betting scandals that causod drastic legislation in this State it may ‘@eatinue to grow in the popularity it deserves. i'm Baseball io more attractive thie year (han ever. ‘ ae + f the fact. Disappearance of the Federal League scems to have Neh @hanged the ambition of many players, Now they are not eg anxious te get rich quick as they are to hit the ball hard—aend, therefore, tn at this typical American pastime are better entertained er) ever before. Incidentally the only “Matty” ie proving that time ie hee no terrors for the intelligent, upright man. More power to his j mighty elbow! ¥ q Track and field sports are booming. Records are falling jg’ _Mike leaves in a November gale, ‘mg The quarter mile, the most killing distance that man can run, is ® @one faster now than ever man hed stepped it; the hammer flies fur _ ther, the sixteen-pound shot hurtles to greater lengths, the hurdles se topped faster, and no record ie safe over night. In rowing, Harvard has covered the Thames four miles at New _ Lamdon about three boat lengths faster than any other racing crew > thas ever made the journey, while on the faster water at Poughkeepsic _ Syracuse has once more lowered the colors of Cornell and Columbia. eo It fo net altogether matter for sorrow that Columbia has decided to abandon rowing, if the news from Morningside proves tree, They say that they are giving it up because so few candidates out to try for the crew. Why do they not come out? Is it not that the four-mile race, to which American collegiane stick in imitation of English models, ie altogether too much of « our boys? We think it is. authorities at Princeton have limited the rowing at that to two-mile events—ample distance to prove the best crew. ‘At Annapolie the Navy Department holds the cadets down to the Gassic Henley distance of a mile and 550 yards. 4 Records prove that the lads who develop the human machine to eee four miles in boats break down early in middle life unless they up the fierce exercise, And not one busy man in a hundred has time to do that. Let the colleges come down to a sane distance like ‘bwo miles, and they will doubtless find Columbians as full of racing — aplsit os ever. Im golf, quite as much the game of “one Patterson, a RE } on Gheemaker,” as it was of the Stuart King whom he beat, the ; advent of cur little American boys as champlens becomes } om mero notable daily. Pe : ‘This year, ae twice before in the last four years, an American 1B ~~ Bey hes won the open championship from the pick of the country— |) @mateur and professional, foreign and domestic. Moreover, o tiny led of thirteen tender years down in Georgia has done his club course dn 68, thereby equalling the best work of the club’s imported profes- _ @lenal, who wes earning his bread with his mashie long before the | Yad was born, Now is the heyday of sports, Use them properly, as a means of |) feoreation and upbuilding, and we shal! never regret the time and | > effort and money spent on them, especially upon those in which we Ourvelves flex the muscles and strive mightily for the prise. Letters From the People WA ‘The vatholie Regiments, Street Sprinkiing and Dect | Pe Ge Balter of The Brening World: To the Editor of The Broning World: “As Aiways, Catholic Regiments Are} They claim that the lack of sant- First to Enlist at President's Call,” | tary conditions is one of the causes te the title of article taken from | of the present plague, Ratlroad sta- - your paper in the last issue of our | tion 4 other public places were Gunday Visitor, Luntington, Ind, That | requested to uso wet sawdust when ie very flattering. Would that all| sweeping tn order not to raise the /) @hemies of the Catholic Church, who|dust, Years ago I noticed that white - @laim the members of that church | Wings used to sprinkle water out of @annot be loyal, might read it. Some|4 watering can on the streets before | | politicians who try to make capital of |sweeping, but for the past few years } Feeds would alsc be benefited by it,|this system has been entirely abole j | This country belungy to Catholics et, Now you will find them ratsing | well as any other creed, and e dust so that it will blow in your y face, Why does th Gooner all are aware of this the better |Health allow the street Cleaning 4 of Mt will be. Thank» for your kind | partment to do this, when at the B De Words towards Catholics, time require janitors of public | RAYMOND VERNIMONT, Prien, | Dut! to, glo, the opponiter Ien't > Denton, Texas, something radically wrong A BROOKLYNITE, : " Hits From Ut is easier to draw moral than to & Xe Sharp Wits po be richest petion in the world, the luckiest in freedom from the BB time of deed from the thousands of tracks and fielde and streams, ~the hing of sports, a» many believe—- taken place simultaneously with ite temporary abandonment in Mr. Vanderbilt's horse won third place in y king back over the records, that may seem impossible; but | or owe Deliv t COR. “A 1} Ellabelle May Doolittle ~ tae Cowra Wes Yok Bening Werth LLABELLE MAB DOOLITTLE, the noted postess of Delhi, per- formed a rather remarkable feat recently in a Delhi ice cream parlor. She visited the place to see the proprietor, Delancey 8. Bi about a subscrip- tion to the ‘omen's Bet League's Gund for providing poor girls ‘with perfumes and destitute lea ‘with china dolls, She wanted at least if a dollar from Mr. Biggs. abe en! the store the themeelves with ice cream. In an in- etant she decided upon a it action. Taking a stand in the centre of the room, she held up one hand and Sonnpeess. which ehe later called Moderation.” Doolittle com, and recited it without hesi- tancy. Bs pant erage pupae beck ice cream, Proprietor Biggs said he'd be leaned td have Miss Doolittle in- lulge “on the house.” She said it was not her custom to be eo doing, but she would this time. When he had eerved her with @ dish of the cream Proprietor Biggs said: “Ahem! Do you think it right, Miss Doolittle, td tell children not to eat my ice cream and then expect me to give 60 cents to the perfumes and china dolls’ fund? “Oh, Mr. Biggs,” replied the poet. ess, “you don't understand me, I didn't come in here to reform, but merely to instill into the children the need for moderation in their mad chase for recompense in the eternal of things, Do you see?" '@ s#oOmMe More foe cream, won't you?" asked Proprietor Biggs, Miss Doolittle took just one more plate and, upon rising to leave, turned to the proprietor and sald: : oa 5 wee ens T dneered) Tou, ou Vith every mane at ‘The children, vourt G ‘my command,"* who were still de. fee cream, besan applaud, in Miss Doolittle held up one Tut!" she said. “You should ap- plaud Mr, Biggs, He's Koing to give me 60 cents for the perfumes and aA load through life.—Des- out of the bad ts through 4 _ The Colonel has not only taken his | 2) Mat out of the ring but he has had it | Féblocked.—Colurubia Bate. “Half the discomforts of hot weath- “@P are vue to mental suggestion,” ob- i laarves an exchange. The other hait,! ee Di \we presume, are due to the heat,| A cheerful disposition gives the ‘oy phia. Inquirer, |wrinkles (hat old age brings the di- 88 of rection that the creases of smiles Memetines the quickest or even "the |take,—Albany Journal * 8 Often t's he laughs best who does not Jaugh at all, ee Some men are born bone headed, and others think they can beat @ slot machine.-Columbla State dolla’ fund, aren't you, Mr. Biggs?" “Oh, eure!” #aid Proprictor Biggs, handing Mise Doolittle a plugged halt dollar, Again the children applauded and thie time the voctess did mt attempt to stop them, All were pi INNOCENT EXPOSURE, Mother—Now go kiss nursie good night and let her put you to bed, Little Helen—Don't want to, She blape folks that try to kiss her now, Mother—-Why, what a story, Helen! red! eee eee Oe rere om % | + «o Stories of Stories Plots of Immortal Fiction Masterpieces By Albert Payson Terhune ¥ Copyright, 1916, by The Prem Publishing Co, (The New York Evening World), ss UNDINE. By de la Motte-Fouque. INDINE wi water-sprite who lived under the Danube. Water- sprites have no souls, The only way one of them may acquire a soul is by marrying @ mortal. To give their daughter a chance for a soul Undine's parents took her as a baby to a fisherman and his wife, who reared ber to gloriously Deautiful young womanhood. Undine was as wilful and flery tempered as she was deautiful. She was soulless; therefore conscienceless. Aud she was @ sore trial to the j9ew about @ dosen children gorging good old fisher couple. A Strange Warning. An Austrian knight, Huldebrand by name, chanced to see the sprite- girl. Her unearthly loveliness and her witchery at once captured his heart. He paid ardent court to Undine, and she warmly reciprocated his love. They were married. And (thus becoming possessed of a sow) Undine at once lost her hearticss wilfulness and was merely a meck and adoring wife to her handsome young husband, Strangely enough, Huldebrand found hér far less fascinating with a soul than without ona No longer did she delight him by spitfire moods and elfin waywardness, There was @ good deal of monotony t about her gentle obedience, By the time Undine and the knight had Mved at the 5 latter's gay castle of Ringstettin for a few months Huldebrand began to show a more than neighborly in- terest tn a titled beauty named Bertalda, with whom he had carried on @ mild flirtation in his bachelor days, Kuhleborn, a fierce old water sprite, was Undine's uncle and secretly kept Watch over his beloved niece, He foresaw trouble for her through Hulde- brand's infatuation for Bertalda and he sought to avenge Undine's unhap- pineses by killing the knight, But ever Undine thwarted old Kuhloborn's plots against her husband, Bhe told Huldebrand, however, that Kuhleborn would resent any 1) ¢reat- ment toward his niece by taking her awuy with him, and she begged the knight to treat her with more kindness, especially when they were near the river, She even sealed up the castle fountain to bar out Kuhleborn, who could not stir far from water, In spite of Undine's warning, her husband once got into a blazing rage aguinst her as they were boating upon the Danube, He cursed and reviled his timid wife, Instantly unseen hands drew her out of the boat and under the river's murface, Huldebrand for months wept and howled tn an agony of remorseful grief. But at last he so far recovered his interest tn life as to ask Bertalda to marry him, She accepted, During the night before the proposed wedding grencionce ft Undine appeared to Huldebrand in a vision, warning e Knight's $ him to keep away from all rivers and fountalna, lest Vieiter, Kuhleborn slay him. On the wedding day Bertalda, who knew nothingof this warning, ordered her servants to pry up the sealed stone that covered the castle fountain, They obeyed, A shadowy white figure arose from the water and glided into the castle, Into Huldebrand's own apartment swept the notseless figure. Turning from the task of dressing for his bridal, the knight recognized Undine, ‘Weeping, she wound her arms about the terrified bridegroom, kissing him again and again and holding him closer and : loser to her, Then, silently, she left him and vanished into the fountain, The knight's horrified followers rushed to thelr master's room, There he Jay, where he had fallen when Undine departed, From the stone flooring at his wide gushed @ swirling little brook that twined itself lovingly about his dead body, ———— <4 -—__—__ Of all our infirmities, vanity ts the dearest to us. A man will starve Mis other vices to keep that alive.—FRANKLIN Rest satisfied with doing well and leave others to talk of you as they please.—PYTHAGORAS. Helen--Well, you ask papa if she don't.—Jack o' Lantern, One gift well given is as good as a thousand; a thousand gifts ill given are hardly better than none._DWAN STANLEY, ee os AAPA IOI The Evening World Daily Magszine, Saturday. July 15, 191 By J. H. Cassel OU ania | | 1 The Scolding Mother « By Sophie Irene Loeb Cowra Wow York retina Work). = On YOUNG MAN writes a letter asking what can be done about @ scolding mother, He says: “I certainly would appreciate very much {f you would answer this through your column, Sometimes our mother does nothing else but scold, scold, find fault with every- thing in the house, and compares us with other ‘perfect’ families, Do you think that perhaps if there had been allowances for some of our ‘imper- fections’ that we might have done less things to be nagged at? “At times I wonder !f, as our father died when we were quite young, my mother wanted to bring us up very strictly, and, consequéntly, this is the result. However, there are times when we find harmony in the home, for our mother at euch times is of a quiet, sweet and most kind nature. But really this constant scolding gets us DESPERATE.” Iam not eurprised that the soold- ing of some women docs get chil- dren “desperate.” Not long ago I was passing the home of a woman) whom I knew, She was holfing her | child by the arm and scolding it unmercifuly for something it done, As she saw me she emiled a most) gracious emile of greeting and then went on with her soolding in the! same loud way. Now, this woman bas rather) Pleasing nature and shows that side to all her acquaintances. Yet she is) forever nagging at her children. Scolding is a habit with some women, and I am sorry to say that it often happens that the nagging wife | turne into the nagging mother after the husband is gone—just because she has acquired a faculty of finding fault with somebody, Scoldings, which are temperamental outbursts, never did anything for a child except create @ temporary fear in his heart as well as a disrespect for his parent. After a while the woman who persists in scolding finds that her talk “goes in one ear and out the other,” and children get used to| tongue lashing AY as they do with | food they don’t like but have to take, ‘The great teacher Froebel, whose method of developing children in the | way they should go is considered the | highest authority, was always against the element of scolding in child life, | It is the very worst child indeed with whom you can’t reason if you take the time to do 80, | The principle of treachery has more | often been instilled in the child mind! by the scolding It has been used to expect than any other, | I have often tnongn? If @ ecolding mother could have her beratings re- | corded in a phonograph and hear her- | self as her child hears her, she would not wonder at the Inefficiency of the| perpetual word lashing, Of course no one may most | had | insay that in the every day children do many aggravating things thi are a re- straint on one's temper, Yet the big, means of alleviating this distress ts more often cured by forethought than ufter fight. ‘The so-called bad boy is only + , But I was talking of love, Mr, Wea ‘anything,” said Mrs. Jarr, interrupting He aR, that ita tere eee The Woman of It. by Helen Rowland, — Te hee bee & d He Sentomental Cooling & | 0” remarked © Hehe emtingel + iy. “thet the bead of « ete school hae Just announced (het ne mln fan eraduls whe @ bow how t * © Are h fully Petree ine « dove of wulted + and human clothes racks and feminine eacpclepeedias! Afier oll, ookine ee “Yea.” « ving her tee Hetlonsly. “an ert, end @ phi horophy an evoking & J oF cook oflass oF cooking & hunt afeir!” repented the leahetor tnoreduiourty. et “Most of them are either overdone or helf baked. nowadays.” she es. plained. “Now, if (here were only @ ‘sentimental cooking schort fur wives end eweethearts “We should ail horror “Weill.” laughed the Widow, “at lenet you wow Nut serious! be Gone Grown!” exclaimed the echelon ta mock n't be © cold and enourh jee” “And Just « little natural tnetinet and int “Ot course,” acknowledged tne Widow, “There are born geniusce im both arta Hut every woman should learn the tricks of the trade, nevers thelens, And the seoret of secrets im either love or cooking, lies in knowing how to keep the fire going.” “And in how to blow up \he eparke when tt hase died out,” added the Hachelor sent ¥ Oe eee All’'o Fire in Leve and Covking. Earner arate eee te a mee na ne “ NSENSE!” retorted the Widow, “Ne good cook ever does that N And all the winds of heaven couldn't blow up an old fame Any woman is just wasting her energy on @ man who has begun te wet ‘that tired feeling’--after love, In your callow camping daya, Mg, Weatherby, did you ever try to cook anything over a dead fire?” “I never reached that stage of imbecility,” replied the Bachelor, with the pride of the-male-who-thinks-he-can-cook, “Few men do, reed the Widow ewoetly, “But @ woman seome to think that by pretending the fire te ett!! there she can coax it back to life again. he vainly believes that by piling on more fucl she ean revive the dying embers; but she only succeeds in smothering the last #park. Now, every good COOK knows tnatinotively the psychological mo- ment at which to put the fire OUT—and build a new ono.” ‘hut why PUT it out?” protested the Bachelor, “Why not just wait for tt to die out?” “And atarve to death while you are waiting?” rejoined the Widow ecornfully. ‘That's a man's ideal He alwaye itkes to end love by a slow death instead of by a quick operation. No, indeed! PUT it out! Rake out the old coals and aweep out the ashes—and replace them with mm kindling—or a new flirtation. It te much leas painful, even though you burn your fingers in the operation, There te nothing which #o ages people and wears them out and makes them get on one another's nerves as trying to revive an old flame or sitting moekly by its ashes while it dics ou “Rut suppose they are married!" protested the Bachelor, “What are they going to do about it?” on.” pleaded the Bachelor, 4 > ; Marriage—a Fire Extinguisher. { ¢ ° 11," returned the Widow, waving her fan airtly, “if they're married, thoy're-=MARRIED, And the only thing they can do fs to bury the fire—and go right on acting as though nothing had happened “And love,” rejoined the ‘Bachelor, waxing poetical, “is not a bonfire, nor a kitchen fire, but an altar fire—euch as the old Greeks kept burning forever.” “I don’t believe it!” retorted the Widow, tossing her head. “T believe the vestal virgins got up in the night and raked away the ashes and built NEW firea when nobody was looking!” . wel sighed the Bachelor, quite cheerfully, “thore’s nothing like @ fresh fire or a fresh flirtation or La now and then, to keep up the glow of Hfe—even though most women do cook with electricity now- adaya, Don't they?” “Yea,” admitted the Widow, hearts and fireproof speeches.” The Jarr Family By Roy L. McCardell Covgright, 1916, by The Press Publishing Co, (The New York Evening World.) RS. JARR looked up from the Mr. Jarr. ‘When all goes well # ts evening paper and remarked, | easy enough to stick by one another. “] think some women are fool- | It’s not at all dimicut; but what we ish.” need ts @ friend who will stick by us “Yes, a great many of them are,” | when we are in trouble. said Mr. Sarr calmly. “Do you think I'd stick by you it “Well, they are no worse than! you got in trouble like that?” asked men,” replied Mra, Jarr, bristling up. | Mre, Jarr. “Asa matter of fact, they arenot near; “Oh, there's no danger of anything so bad, What this world would be of that sort,” said Mr. Jarr, emiling- if the women didn’t do their best ty, “but the best man may be falsely to keep it sane and sensible I don't | accused and we should all be consid- know. The country would be in thé/ered innocent until our guilt is war now only the women won't proved.” fight.” “Oh, dear mo!" exclaimod Mre. Jarr “You were just eaying that some! with a worried look. “Are you in any women were foolish,” said Mr. Jarr/ unpleasant trouble? I felt it tn my gently. He knew that women would| hones that something was going to fight. { happen, but I didn’t think you would “And eome women are foolish, but, ao anything to disgrace yourself and that's no excuse for you men,” replied | your family!" Mrs. Jarr. “Great Scott!” exclaimed Mr. Jarr. “No, it's no excuse for anybody,”! what in the name of goodness is the eaid Mr. Jarr, “but then some folk#| matter with you? I'm all right.” are born foolish, and some are made} “Oh, 1 don't know,” anid Mrs, Jarr, foolish, and some have foolishness) qt'5 no use trying to trust anybody thrust upon them, in these days—after one reads what's in platforms, for instance.” the papera,” “I have foolishness thrust upon me,”| Don't read what's in tho papers, retorted Mra, Jarr. “Of all the exas-|tmen,” replied Mr. Jarr. “What did perating people I ever saw, you are the! you marry me for if you always did worst! I try to have » sensible talk! think I was no good? I haven't done with you and all you do is make fun) anything, Iam all might. What is it of me.” you were reading about somebody? “I wasn't doing anything of the! “I told you what it was,” said Mra, kind,” replied the astonished Mr. Jarr.| Jarr, “Here's another married man “You started to tell me about women! who has been leading a double Ife, being foolish and, out of politeness, I/ and his wife says she doesn't belleve didn’t even agree with you"—— it and will stick by him; that's why “You never agree with me about! 1 say she's foolish.” “If anything ever does happen to him, “Phat's what makes all the! me," said Mr. Jarr solemnly, “remem= trouble, You might try to be kind to! ber I say IF—it will not come as any me. That's little enough for you to, unpleasant surprise or disillusion to do, isn't it?” you. You always believed the worat “All right,” replied Mr. Jarr. “I'll of me!" be kind now. What ie it? What ts it) “I do not,” said Mrs, Jarr, “If T all about?” thought anything like that of you I “I was only going to say that some) wouldn't live a day with you,” women foolish, from what I read} “But suppose you did find out some. tn the papers,” sald Mrs, Jarr. plied Mr, Jarr, “what would “1 neither affirm nor deny the statement,” replied Mr. Jarr. “What makes you say such things?” 've been reading another case where a man gets mixed up in a mat- ter he shouldn't bein, and all his own fault, too, and his wife comes forward and saye she believes in him, that he is being falsely accused and that she will stick by him. “What's wrong about that?” asked I result of misdirected energy. The little explanation of its wrongs to the same energy properly managed may|child rather than everlasting seold= prove wholesome and peaceful. ing. | At least all experience teaches that] Spare the tongue and save the you gain more by a little patience, a’ child, x “O “And most men make love with insulated e a “Well, do you think I'd give other people the satisfaction of saying that they knew I wouldn't stick by you?” asked Mrs, Jarr, “Indeed, I wouldn't, I wouldn't let the world know." “Then why do you say this woman 1s foolish?” asked Mr. Jarr, “Because all women are, where their husbands are concerned,” replied Mrs. Jarr, ee