The evening world. Newspaper, June 21, 1919, Page 11

Our Public Schools By Rev. Thomas B, Gregory, 'O the well-informed and patriotic American, the statement recently made by & university professor to a Chicago audience, that the Public schools “lack the ability to develop the MORAL CHARAC- » TER of their pupils and fail to cultivate the chivalrous traits of the boys pa and girls,” is as provoking as it is unintelligible, Ninety per cent. of the people of the United States are educated In @ the public schools, and the professor's statement is tantamount to the assertion that that proportion of our people are lacking in moral stamina ond in the graces of ladylike and gentlemanly conduct. ‘The charge is infamously false. The professor should know that tho moral character and all-around decency of manners of the young people +, graduated from the public schools compare most favorably with the attain- ‘: ment along similar lines of any young pedple to be found on earth. i To come at once to the heart of the matter, it is high time that the American people should demand an EXPLANATION of all this high- handed fault-finding with the public school system—a system that was founded by the great men who made America, and who desired above everything else to provide for the edycation which should preserve and perpetuate the ideas and principles for which America stands. Are these critics of the public schools trying to cripple them, and, Presently, to destroy them? Are they opposed to the AMPRICANISM that is taught in the public schools? If so let them come out in the open, so that the people may get at them and put an end to this treasonable crusade. ‘The American public school is the one institution that we should safe- guard with all our might. It is the nursery of the ideas upon which the very existence’ of the Nation depends. America is not a certain territory occupied by a certain namber of human units, but # certain IDEAL, a certain way of thinking, and if you destroy this ideal, this mental impulse, you destroy America. In the public schools the boys and girls are brought up to love knowl- edge for its OWN SAKE, to revere DEMOCRACY and LIBERTY, and it is as certain as anything can be in this world that if the day ever comes when these great principles are no longer revered, our beloved Republic will cease to be. ‘To have American institutions we must first of all have American ideas, and in order to keep up the institutions we must keep up the ideas, Put your foot down hard, O America, upon any attempt to cripple or destroy the good work of the people's schools. It Ben Franklin, and Thomas Jefferson, and Daniel Webster, and Horace Mann, and Abraham Lincoln were here to-day they would say to the traducer of the public schools, slightly changing the word of the great democrat of Nazareth: “Get thee behind me, Satan, for thou savorest not the things that be of America.” The Housewife’s Scrapbook a “with cold water. RX AVE the juice of canned fruit, S You can make refreshing hot weather drinks with it. For in- stance, one cup of pineapple syrup Diended with one cup of grape juice and a little sweetening and mixed with either charged water or lve water is delicious. Careless handling of canned foods has often resulted in illness, Never allow the contents of a can to re~ foain in it after the can has been opened. It 1s best to empty the can and let the food stand for an hour before cooking or eating same. Peas, beans and asparagus should have the liquid drained off and thea be ate The time required for cooking peas depends wpon thelr maturity. Young | peas will cook in thirty minutes or | even less. Overcooking destroys the | color and flavor, Boil them slowly | in a partially uncovered saucepan and add salt while the peas are atil] firm. After twenty minutes’ boiling test oo- casionally, and as soon as tender re- move from the fire. If these sugges- tions are followed the family will be served with delicious peas. If you have no meat choppor uso the empty baking powder can for mincing vegetables, Puncture the bot- tom in several places before using the can, You will be able to do it better and more quickly than with a knife. Do not attempt to remove a label from cloth by wetting it. Simply draw the cloth in a bias direction, first one way, then the other, and it will come off quickly, leaving the| cloth clean and without injuring the fabric, Put mit on the fingers when clean- ing fowl, fish or meat. It will keep the bands from slipping. ‘Turn on the cold water faucet and hold the onions uuder it while pecl- ing them. You will be able to con- Unue the task indefinitely without shedding tears. Tt is sald that silk skirts will retain their freshness better if they are hung upside down when not in use, The shine can be removed from dark serge garments by sponging them well with hot vinegar and pressing in the usual manner, I¢ the cake drops down in the cen- tre the dough is too rich—use less sugar next time. If it rises too much the dough is too thick, Soak grass stains in alcohol, then wash out in clear water and hang in the sun to dry, Before sealing fruit jars pul In @ few drops of glycerine. This will help to keep mold from settling on top of the fruit. ‘The small discarded clock will come in handy for the sick room if the face is in good condition, Set tho hands at tho hour when the next dose of medicine is to be given and you will not bave to tax your memory. ‘To retain the green color in vege- tables they must boll fast and the cover must be removed. from the saucepan. ‘There is no reason why the pretty Jored cotton frocks need fade in the oo) ie! Diant They will turpenting into half @ gallon of cold water and thoroughly wet the gar- ments in this, then wring and hang in the shade, Do not throw away the old stook- ings. Cut a strip about half an inch wide as bias as possible by starting at the top and going around the leg in a continuous direction. Then wind the strip into a ball and you will find it handy when tying up the plants and vines in the garden. If you cut it quite bias and avoid the heel you ean cut right down to the toe, thus making use of the entire stocking, Wiping the piven See be rhb xc | AG ici the Ft wee Saturday; PAGE aye ‘aah cats done unr rearee ars BY MARJORIE BENTON COOKE. A Story of the “Penrod” of Girls’ Books, a Delightful Little Heroine, and How She Finds Her Sweetheart (Copyright, 1919, by Doubleday, Page & Co.) BYNOPSIS OF PRECKDING CHAPTERS, Max, the mot Jeabelie ‘reaches of thelr who gives isabelle the first avour her vee {au ‘fn ‘the int CHAPTER IX, HE period of adjustment to life Belahbortca Tite care at the Hill Top School was very bewildering one to Isa~ Where once more abe belle. ‘The routine of the school, if you could call it that,» beyan, Mr. and Mrs, Benjamin had strange ideas in regard to the training of the young. They kept the school small, so that they might not be hampered in their experiments, and, strangely enough, they drew their pupils largely from the families of the rich. “Isabelle,” Mr. Benjamin eald to her, when she had been at the school about two months, “I have a letter from thy father, He says thee does not write home.” ‘“t've been busy,” frowning, “But what does thee do on Sunday afternoons, When the other girls write home?” “I'd rather not tell, ut thee writes; I've seen thee,” She nodded, “L want thee to write thy mother to-day Isabelle,” he eald, sternly. He told his wife of this conv: tion later, 6 writes volumes on Sunday,” he said, “now what does she do with i “She drep we've ever had, Adam,” ewere abe, ig rather exhausting to me," e he She's lived under abnormal condt- tions of some gort. I cannot seem fo visualize her parents a} all, Siu never speaks of them, She was so bitter and sullen when she came to us,” Mrs, Benjamin mused, “I must try to get her confidence about her parents; she may be needing help,” me to thee just in time, my Phoebe, “Yes, that's true, A little more and would have been a bitter cynic phe just frost~bi! uate Isabelle said, one of the strangest chil- she an- t friend? abe rune sof! ag ae ect uence of love and understanding, “She interests me deeply, and 'm growing very fond of her.’ “Iucky Jsabelle,” her husband smiled. Later in the day when the other girls were out at play Mrs. Benpamin came upon Isabelle, pen in hand, gaz- ing ipto the distance, “What is troubling. my child? “Mr, Benjamin tol me to write to ho 1s Max?” ‘My mother,’ 4: mother, and thee calle her Max? always have.’ But (els not reepectful, te it?" 'No, but I don't resp her much.” “Doesn't the '—calmiy, “No, you gan't"—earnestly, And, what does thee call thy Mrs, Benjamin smiled, Here was all the clue she needed to the kind of parents Isabelle possessed. “It may have been considered pre- cocious, when thee was little, to call them so. But if I were in thy place, I would not do it now, It gives the wrong ‘mpression of thy manners. I think thee has very pretty man- ners,” she added, Isabelle flushed with pleasure “You see, Max—my mother— doesn't really care where I am, or what | do, so long. as i'm not in her way, so I don't know what to write ‘ouldn't thee then “Well, it would be egsier,” she ad- mitted, “Wally is a good sort, and understands mor “Write to him then. That will do, T'm sure.” “All right. But nobody writes me letters, I never get any.” “To whom does thée write in the letter hour, my dear?” Isabelle was on her guard at once. “Ob, to somebody I |ike.” “some ‘friend of thine?” “Um—yes,” “Couldn't thee tell pe about this Mr, and are septeinliy interested in "the friends of ris. 1 have mever seen thee }. post them" shaime- write thy father, “Oh, they are to an imaginary friend,” sald Mra, Benjamin, an idea. Isabelle nodded, “That's delightful. I used'to have 4m imaginary companion, too, Is thine a girl?” No. Mrs. Benjamin ignored Igabelle's uncommunicativeness, Why wouldn't that be a good idea for the theme class, Isabelle? ‘Let- ters to an imaginary chum'?* Mine isn’t a chum.” ‘Would thee care to tell me?” beile rose. ll show them to you,” she said; and she ran upstairs, and brought & collection of letters to lay in Mrs. Benjamin's lap. yi, dear, May I read em nk thee, ‘The girl nodded, Mrs, fted the first one, It wag “My Regular Parents." Isabelle went and threw herself down by the fire, her face turned away, while Mrs. Benjamin read, Ob my dear Parents: I wish you could see this beau- tiful school I've come to. It has hilis, and @ large house, and Mr, and Mrs. Benjamin, Mr. Benj min has a wrinkly smile, and Benjamin i Sing Renjamin ddressed and “thou” to each other, ill you? It sounds ao very spe- We study out of doors, and it is fun, We play lots of things, like basketball in the fleld, so we are healthy, My room-mate \s Peggy Starr, a very young girl, often tiresome. This is Sund and all the girls write home, so I write you, dear, dear, regular parents. I think of you a great deal, Mr, and M-s, Benjamin just like you, that is why I love them so dearly, [ am glad we are poor and have only each other, aren't you? I know some people named Max and Wally, who are rich, They have so much golf and par- ties that they can't ever b with their child, except to scold her. But you care about me, don't you? And you like to hear what I do at school. I would be lonesome without you. I will try hard to do good, be- cause I love you #o much. Your loving davehte: ISABE) Mrs, Benjamin finighed them, thi looked at the girl, whose face wi turned away, and her smile wes vel tender, She spoke simply, without ing letters. Mr. Benjamin and Z are like thy ‘reg- ular parents.’ ” Isabelle looked’ at her shyly. “Suppose we mi -. an agreement, Taanet, aegis is Sale Sport, let- reat of the totter bo ‘bour ‘cat otter letter thee will post to m: Sepretace 1 have no "regular daughter Sunday afternoon I will post a to thee. Is that a bargain?’ “Oh, yes!” oried the girl, flaming to meet this suggestion—this under- standing. “Oh, dear Mrs, Benjamin,” she added, “you are so love-ful!” CHAPTER X. ITH the expiration of the spring term came a letter trom Mrs. Bryce asking whether the Benjamins would keop Isabelle at Hill Top until the end of August, as the Bryces were going to Europe and did not wish to take her with them. It never occurred to Mrs. Bryce to consult the girl's pleasure in the matter, but Mra. Benjamin carried the letter to her at once, “Would thee like to stay, Isabelle?” “Like it? I'd adore it!” cried that young person, with the explosive over-emphasis of yguth. Mrs. Benjamin smiled and patted her hand. “We would like it, too, I will write thy mother. So it was arranged, and Isabelle stayed on. Two other girls were to remain also, By special petition to Ww ally Isabelle Was permitted to have the Peruvian horse to spend the sum- mer with her, it was a never-to-be-forgotten hol- iday for those three g ‘They took part in all the activities of the farm, They picked fruit and helped Mrs, Benjamin and the cook to can the big supplies of jam and jelly for the school, They helped in the gar with the vegetables or weeded ons. flowers, 1 drove the bey and the grass ‘cutter. They were busy in the open from morning until night and as happy as field larks. The summer passed almost without event. The three girls, hard and brown as Indians, were beginning to plan for the full, when the others would return, It was'in carly September that the blow fell upon Tsabelle, A telegram from Wally had Apprined his daugh ter of their arival in New York. Thoy were to spend the fall at the Club Houge near The Beeches. He hoped she was well. Did she want im to come and her? She ani ed this briefly, also @ note from er other, As Mra. Bryce rarely troubled to write le ters to any one, Isabelle pondered the ree- son for this amiablo eptytle, It waa soon to be explained. Mrs, Benjamin received @ letter from Mrs. Bryce way ing that notifi.ation bad arrived that Isabelie would be admitted this Octo- York on the last day of 49 she was to board at s e's the present until it wi whether the Brycea town house, Mr. en iemia shook bis head sadly bat this letter, and Cormega, ? tie with Benjamins pad of disappointment over! deolded that Isabelle mmuat’ Mrs. Benjamin's face was 9o over it that her husttand ogres. Ps do the telling, Hi going off on an which would Ap he fon, listened to her mar Lally he felt ‘that he ‘was called upon 2 tell a young ‘vestab veratant that’ she was tobe sacrificed to the ,god ot Mammon, “This if good ‘alr,” fwitt ft! sbe said, breathing deeply. “How: do live tn cities do you. sup- Benjamin lo! Pid shirk, but anced at him auapiciously. “What does she want? he wants in New York She stopped and faced alarm, “To leave Hill nent" “Tm afraid po, little sister,” T won't: @> away from here I love it bere, I love you and Mrs. Benjamin, |-Oh, why dees ax always interfere with me? I hate her!” she ctied wasionately. Mr, Benjamin laid @ steadying hand on her shoulder, and walked be- n side her, “I understand what a blow this is to thee, and how unhappy it makes thee. But one of the things we want our girls to learn i# to honor and re- spect thelr parents,” he paid gently “But how can I respect Max, Mr. Benjamin? She never respects me.” He saw the justice of her remark and strove not to play the moralist, “Thee can Put a curb on thy lps, my dear. I wish that thee might show Mrs, Benjamin and me that thy life here with us has meant, some- thing to thee, by dbeying thy mother aa cheerfully and willingly as theo He felt the young body under his hand sbudder with the effort for control, She lifted stricken eyes to him, os he sald aftepward, and nodded without a word. He helped her as well as he could, by talking of other things, but he felt her suffering as keenly a@ if it had been his own, When they came back to the house, she went to her room, and he carried thé report to his wife, “Sorrow goes go deep with them, at. QOdZil The Evening Wo |Kiddie Klub Kortit Conducted by Eleanor Schorer = Copyright, 1919, by The Pres Publishing Ga (The New York Mrening World). At Bedtime —_ sé HE ts from the parlor and kitchen shone out ‘Through the biinds and the windows and bars; And high overhead and all moving about, ‘There were thousands of millions of stars. There ne’er were such thousands of leaves on @ tree, Nor of people in church or the park, As the crowds of the stars that looked down om me, And that glittered and winked in the dark. The Dog, and the Plough, and the Hunter and all, And the Star of the Sailor, and Mars, These shone in the sky, and the pail by the wall Would be half full of water and stars, ‘They saw me at last and they chased me with ories, And they sdon had me packed into bed; But the glory kept shining end bright in my eyes And the stars going ‘round in my head. From MARGARET SOHOKN, Port eon sc pale Bes bac N.Y. ; Dear Kiddie Klub Mem-|* bers: You wish to know just how old our Klub is, It is just three years, one month and nineteen days old to-day. The first of last month marked the third anniversary of its birth. Yos, I know that many, many peo- plo think our Cousinship is of longer standing than that. That is because it is ot euch ae bath bry of purehasi lone ii of tees when when CA big “Patriotic Party” at eatro in Brooklyn. The ‘up all over the coun- try and did a great deal to boost Uncle Sam's sale, to say nothi: the thousands upon thousands of etty Bonds sold 1 by Cousins. response to the ni of our lic, France, has not gone ‘unnoticed, Do you know that with the dona- tions sent from time to time by kind children we are able still to continue the support of the six delightful French orphans of real Marne? If we ai ly upon the at- tention which the Sette of the Klub Cousins have attracted we should | be suffictently renowned. Everywhere where children are thought of the Kiddie Kiub is known for the remark T'll let her try solitude first.” She did not appear at lunch, #0 Benjamin carried a tray to her. ‘Tho girl was not crying, she was si by the window, looking out over hills, in a sort of dumb agony. ‘I want thee to eat some lunch, my Isabelle. “A white face turned toward her. ve in-brown seemed to bave id, ‘be in seared off by suffering. ‘I can't eat, dear Mrs, Benjamin, she said. “I've been thinking that we might make « plan, dear,” the older woman sald, setting the tray aside and di missing it. She drew a chair besi the girl and took her cold hands. “Thou wilt go to this school, as thy ther wishes, but whea thou hast fn ned—It 1s only two yeard—It thee! the kind of life thy mother Jans for thee too uncongenial, thee! ist come back to us, and help us with the school. There will alw ‘be @ place for thee here, my chil “But two years in that loathsome mchool!”” “Thee dost not know that 1 loathsome. I've no dowbt that # thee will take the right spirit with oe it may be very good for thee. here ortunities in that great city witch Hil Tep cannot offed” put there won't be any Mr, and Mrs, Benjamin! Oh, Mrs, Benjamin, why couldn't you have been my mother?” \ should have been proud to be, elle,” she answered simply. Thou art as dear to me as @ daugh- Isabelle Dent ‘and kissed fhe kina| hands that held her own, but she} shed no tears, “We all have bitter, disappointing things to mest. I shall expect my daughter to meet them with @ fine o she smiled, “Tl try,” said Isabelle Father dic than leave here “Thee has met life very squarely, so far as I have known thee. This is @ text of thy quality, and I know thee will meot it Like my true daughter,” The girl's eyes brimmed at that, but she looked of over the hills and merely nodde Presently she rose) and leaned her cheek for a second against Mrs, Benjamin's bair, “It’s all right, mothér Benjamin,” she said, with the old ring in ber voice. The subject was not mentioned again. Save for a somewhat closer affection, a tende: “but I'd | | res jc bane odeaiacdivstiics My = and country, CATE KAHN, th Now York Sige ee MAY CONTEST AWARD wii “What | Would 'Do if | Were ‘What I Would Do if I Were is a hard essay to write many of us do not know would do if we had kinds, ren al inds, rich and young, all, altk ¢ oor, a Li best minister to etal God's G I would 9 ine & ‘*| Soouta for the benefit of ae, and @ troop of Camp Fire G the young ladies of the on T would build a home for = and blind. I would buy some motor trucks, all fitted with take out some of the poor un children of New York: levue Hospital teo.see @ show at the Hippodrme, I would have stores where were not sixty cents a dozen and bi ter fifty cents a pound. I stations where milk was for for the poor babies and in the I would hay ons where | Twould bes feign wou a friend of By LORING HAROLD Aged fourteen, » Bayonne, N. THE JUNE RIODLE AND ANS CONTEST. Ten prise of tour Thrift equivalent of $1) be awar ty each of the TEN kiddie ielub a ged six to fifteen inclusive, who mit the best riddles and answer, The riddles and ng Sole answers be sent at the same time and mt same envelopes. Contestants must state Fea’ ADDRES ang ” a os . World date lu, No, 63 Park New York City, Contest closes June 27, belle's p: that they were which was an agony of dread to the girl. As Mr, Benjamin had said, of his wisdom: “Sorrow strikes #0 deep at that age.” She took her part in the duties ana| pleasure of the day#, But the Ben-| aming loving eyes marked a = e it no rister'e ite to pos Salto, He te ee HOW TO JOIN THE KLUB OBTAIN YOUR PIN,