W mmunnunuuossnrm In the SATURDAY. my 7, 1923 A' Page for the Signal Box By ERNEST LEVINE. copyright, 1988, by The McClure Newspaper syndicate. ”REE POIXTS was a responsi. T his station, though fewer than a dozen trains passed through it. each day. Carter was a white- lmircd fellow of thirty—ilve—yes, snow—white. Turned whit. in an (toning. ’ The “Westbound Limited passed Thrcc Points at six on a. winter’- unlit. Passed at full speed. though wth a. touch of his hand Carter muld have raised the signal against l.r-r. That couldn't. be done. She laui to pass to take the siding to pro-.lt the East Special to thunder (-n its Way along the single ‘track. Tic dispatcher had handed Carter the tclegr-‘un. Happen what might. the “'estbound must take that aid- ing. half a mile down the track. and to pull up meant to smash into the rdhvi‘ train. whose echonig thunder our the bridge. two miles back in tho mountains. was already audible. (.‘onrl. so far. Carter was 3 mar- rzwl mnn. Little Minnie was an en- th'islnst. at six. on railroad manage- munt. she had a box of toy rails— nn‘. the little circular truck around \l’hll‘h a miniature train of an en- gine and two coaches whirls till the clockwork apparatus stops. and then ce-neruliy falls of! the line. No. sir. i‘arter was as much of an enthusi- ast as Minnie. Besides. who knew tn l: women wouldn't be engine driv- ers and frc-lght superintendents by thr- time Minnie was grown? Minnie's toy rails reached the full length of the room. There were i .nctlons and sittings. a. toy station n; .1 a. my station superintendent. 'I‘hn onglno ran by clockwork. it's trur~_ but a, glorified clockwork that innit five minutes to run down. The coaches never ran off the line-—their wheels were flanged. And Minnie played and played. . . . "This is father's box." she said. in- dicating the toy signal box and set- img the signal against the engine. which could he stopped full tilt by touching a lever. "And this is the “'estbound Limited." Carter grinned and went off to his post that bitter night. He looked out of the window of the signal box, waiting for the \Vesthound to pass. And then. through the dark. he saw something white on the line. The flutter of a tiny white dress, right on the metals. Minnie's voice. "My foot's caught. daddy. daddy!" And the thunder of the train in Car- ter's eru-s. And the roar of the other train across the mountain bridge. mania-imustmsireasiding.or— M-nlcht to several score of hu- man lives. On the other side? One life. a child's. but his own! You. Carter's hair was snow-white the next morning. He stood in the signal box, listen- ing to the thunder of the era-coming train. There was still Just time to yield to that almost irresistsble im- pulse. To set the signal. run out of the box. snatch his child from the rails. and- And? ' The traditions of the railroad service prevailed over the instincts of the father. The train came into sight. a fiery monster. bearing down upon that patch of white. The little voice—was it imaginationll—seemed to ring in his ears. “Daddy! My foot's caught. dad- dy!" Then the train rolled over the place. No cry reached Carter's care. It was gone to the siding. and a minute later the second train passed in the opposite direction. Then Carter left the box. Two trains had passed over the place. and in the dark Carter could see nothing. no sign or trace of evi- dence of what had happened. Quietly, because he had suffered all that a man may endure without». losing his sanity. he made his way toward his cottage near the line. And every step he took he was thinking, "How shall I tell Ella? How shall X tell Ella?" He remembered the strong scent of the vines upon the porch. He went with haggard mien up the three wooden steps. His wife came to the door. "Dear—what's the what's the matter?" "Mlnnie——" He tried to tell her, but all he could say was “Minnie—— Mlnnie—-" matter? 0):. "Minnie? She's inside. playing with her railroad." "What?" Carter ran into the house. incred- ulous. There on the floor eat the child. winding her clockwork engine. He snatched her into his arms. "Minnie. child, have you been here all the—time?” "Oh. a long. long time. daddy. And what do you think? The points of the rails ran into my boot. and I couldn't get them out for ever so long. And I wished you were here to pull my foot away!" A Corner In Cookery SIMPLE BOUPS OUPS have a big and important part in the summer menu. But we usually crave different soups in summer. For a. summer dinner a clem- soup, served piping hot. is a. good choice. or one of the lighter cream vegetable soups when the rest of the meal is not going to be very heavy. But the rich soups, like mul- lifmtnwny and some of the French purses. are best left until cooler Weather. A vegetable soup of a moderately substantial, but not too rich. variety is a good choice for the warm day luncheon. This may be a cream vegetable soup. or a good concoction of left over vegetables. simmer slow- ly and for a. long time. and care- fully seasoned. - Rice soup is an excellent summer soup for dinner. as it is not heavy or rich. The rice water called for is that in which rice has been boiled. Rice SOUP- Three cups rice water. 2 cups car- This. 2 tablespoons drippings. 1 ts- hIr-spoon chopped onion, 1 tablespoon chopped celery, 1 tablespoon flour. FOR SUMMER. Scrape the carrots. cut in small pieces and cook until tender. Heat the drippings. add the onions and celery to it and cook them live min- utes without browning. Stir in the flour. add this mixture to the car- rots, add the rice water with salt and pepper to taste. Hero is a recipe for a quick tomato puree delicious for a summer lunch- eon: Tomato Puree. One sliced onion. 1,5 of a bay leaf. pinch of soda. 1 sprig of parsley. 4 cups of tomatoes, 2 cups of hot we.- ter, 2 teaspoons of sugar. 2 table- spoons of butter. 1,4 teaspoon of cloves. 8‘ teaspoon of allspice, 3 ts.- blespoons of flour. 2 or 8 drops of onion extract. salt and pepper to taste. Brown the onion in the butter. add the flour and brown. Add the toma- toes. parsley, epice’s, hay leg: and sugar; simmer fifteen minutes. Strain the soup through a pure. sieve and return to the kettle. Dis. solve the soda. in a little warm w ter. add it to the soup, season to taste and serve. Something to synawum After the Day’s Work Think. About able sage. “where “1“: young men and women a at nine o'clock in the evening. and what they are doing. and I ll inform you what role they will play later in the real drama 0 life." A little reflection will convince even those who are isdiffeerut to the tendency of the old wisesssa was fish .4 "°‘ '° enrichment... in the guidance of a captain. as what is done in the hours of freedom. that counts in staph. human destiny. The plain all! 0! history and biography pile but upon but: confirmation of this living tn! - Turn to their m M M “'IuELL me." said the vener- them class!!- As you M m 'm a: mu the eon-via”- m‘; m purpose in mind, they sought the companionship of Wisdom whether among elders or with in- structive books. Thus they began in youth to steer their soul-ship to a secure haven. where they knew that in the years to come they would be protected from the storming winds that beat against the water- logged craft of old age. Such men and women were not enslaved by the hands .of the clock. Being free. they scorned the - eight-hour day. and plastic! a day of their own. in which they often , labored till midnight. Whatever they found to do they did with all their night. quite re- g less of the giddy world at is e, keeping always before their mental vision the far-o! goal. " Their chief concern was not the passes of time. but how they might conserve and use it to their utmost advantage. . 11106,»?! a. The your: lady across the way says onelracterwi rotaieaemanyeropalnaday aux Lyrics of Life THE MORE THE DISHES. My mother's mother when she got A dinner up was glad to do it; She liked to entertain a lot. And plenty came. for plenty law it. A Sunday meal. a. christmss Day. “'cre right, according to her wishes. And yet she always used to say. “The more the meal. the more the dishes." She didn't say it to complain, But more to stop the rest com- plaining: When they were tired enough to faint. “'ith still the kitchen things rec maining. "This ain't." she nearly always said. "No miracle of loaves and fishes; And. if you want to have a. spread. The more the meal. the more the dishes." And I have noticed all along Through life that wealth is like a dinner: You've got to labor good and strong. You've got to work to be a winner; _ And. after you have got your gold, Man seldom finds the ease he wishes: You've got to work your wealth to hold— ‘I'ho more the meal. the more the dishes. 1: THE = HOUSEHOLD Edited by ANNE IIT'I'ZNHOUSB Speaking of Food DO you make comments on the dishes that are set before you at meal time? . if you do, what is the nature of these comments? Some people get into the very unwholesome habit. of complain- ing about every dish about which there is any room for complaint. This is a very usual habit among persons who live in boarding houses because they can do this usually without any danger of hurting the feelings of the one who cooked or planned the meal. Here is a sample of boarding‘ house comment on meals: "Tuesday night—that means roast beef and breaded veal—al- ways the same old thing. Might have known we'd have oyster stew —bad raw oysters yesterday. I don't. see why the chef always uses so much salt. I declare I can’t eat the soup. and I get so tired of mashed potatoes. and plain boiled potatoes. I don't like baked potatoes anyway. I wish I liked bread and butter—perhaps 1 would if I eouid‘have home- made bread.” If you have ever lived at a boarding house and .sst at the same table with a person or so who made such comments on the food oiiered them you would real- ise how depressing it Mules. It .takes precedence of other conver- sation, precludes any interesting discussion of topics of the day. THE DAILYEL‘» Children, for pay Almost Every Little summer Frock Has a Ceeelet 0? Its Own. HEN is s berths. not a W berths? When it's a little cape. and it is sometimes not at all easy on first glance to tell whether the ruffles or drapery at the shoulders amount really to a little cape or a large berths. - The sketch shows a frock of almond green georgette—severely simple as to line, quite innocent of sleeves and embellished only with an elaborate apron and a little shoulder cape consisting of two plaited ruffles of the georgette. The back of the frock is of embroidered net in the same shade and the apron is plaited—snd has a. panel of the gmhroidcred net. The capelet answers the purpose of coils: and sleeves at the same time. . There seems to be an affinity be- tween capelets and aprons. for al- most always the frock that shows the apron effect onthc skirt shows Almond arren georgefte rum double pleated pounce at the neck. The pteated apron has a panel of em- broidered net. s capelet or a bertba wide enough to be called a cape on the shoulders. Some of the dressmakers have de- vised a frock with an adjustable piece that may be used either as an apron or a. cape—thus making it possible to “make two frocks out of one." A navy blue serge cock was de- signed ty a French dressmsker with an embroidered serge "tablier" that may be used either as an apron when the frock is worn indoors or as a cape when it is worn outdoor; A black crepe frock has e. rufle of wide white lace mounted on' a. black binding with ends that can be at- tached at the front 0: the skirt as an apron or placed about the shoul- ders for a. cape. Some or the French dressmakers have been making what they call ‘three-piece" frocks. There is the one-piece frock usually of some sort of silk crepe. and with it worn on some occasions a little Jacket; like- wise there is a cape of the same materisltobewornonotheroccs- siona. One Bench observer has men- tioned these complementary capes as ‘perhaps the novelty of the season." To be sure there is nothing new about capes. and for several seasons we have worn frocks with floating panels or ruffles of material fastened to the shoulders in cape effect. The novelty seems to rest in the way the dressmskers are making little capes to go with slmostelltheirfroeks. Thefrockv withside plaiting on the skirt has a little platted espi towear “in re- pose." . ‘ . cum Apparently ’ mm am. the char-led Printed SIM “Manhattan. mated fabrics was on the wane. TherewsssoodenWChressenfsr it seemed l l Srrgo 33!? with minted crepe blouse and picnicd panel of the crap. falling to bottom a] skirt. up poor quality in cheap silks— manufacturers were not slow to ob- serve this advantage. And bargain basements were soon flooded with printed silks by the yard and frocks of printed silks at amazingly low figures. Even then smart women did not seem especially inclined to give them up. And now there is very good reason to believe that printed silks of a. good quality will remain in good repute. As a fashion authority puts it: "Everything has been copied— antique art. the art of the ancients. foreign arts. and national arts—and now a new art has been created by the designers of these printed fabrics. . . ." They take them- selves quite ecriously. these French designers of fabrics. They regard themselves and are in fact quite as much artists as those who paint with oil on canvas. but they have a sense of humor. too. and are never more pleased than when their fabric designs are not only beautiful. but amusing. droil and bizarre. The statement has been made quite often that printed fabrics were suited ly to garments cut on simple unhro n lines; and for that reason the printed fabric was re- garded as eminently suited to the straight-line blouse of the season. showing an unbroken. unadorned line from neck to hips. But only a little experimenting has shown that many of the printed materials may be used to excellent advantage in plaits and even in gathers. To be sure. you cannot figure out the elaborate detail of the desisn so well on s platted surface. but after all it doesn't much matter what the figures represent. If the colors blend as well and if the effect is not confusing than use your printed fabrics plsited. gathered or II you will. The revival of interest in blue serge has brought about a demand forprintedsilksthstwillgowell with dark blue. The sketch shows one of the many interesting results from this combination. The frock is made of navy blue serge and blue and white printed silk. From the belt of the blouse to the hem of the skirt hangs a. platted panel of the material. which is an: interesting application of the apron effect in the new clothes of the season, niauouu. . ig—i E his; all i Egéifgitg agile; ll 2 E l E l g, i g E list: 28: i so» 3‘: l i ’3 if Q . l. A ' men, 'an d' the HmW" e Of course you are! Every unmarried girl does it—from sixteen to sixty. She may deny it, she may be very shy about it, she may even have decided to go on dreaming and never let her dreams mate- rial _. But she never forgets to dre . ' And why not? “'hat's more natural and sweet and tender than a girl's happy thoughts of a wedded love life? This world would indeed be a. place of exquisite Joy if all the dreams of young womanhood came true. And if every dream husband materialized in the flesh, true and dear. noble and generous. handsome and loving, charming and passionate. Now I don't want to throw any cold water on the girl in the throes of these happy day-dreams. but in the interests of her happi- ness and peace of mind. I do think a few plain words about husbands will come in handy. There are very few dream ones in real. everyday life_ I might say. Just as there aren't many of man’s dream women to be found in the great burly-burly. “There is always something." as the old saying goes, about even ‘he most adorable person. There is certainly always some- thing about husbands. The average one is a decent enough fellow, but he has his little ways. nd no matter how much you may love him. no matter how D REAMING about marriage! much he loves you, you are bound‘ to get a. few shocks sooner or later. ‘ . Shocks of disillusionment. Shocks of love. I know a girl who left home after three weeks of married life and went back to her people be- cause her husband would use a toothpick constantly! Silly? Not at all. It was more Through the Glad Eyes Of. a Woman By JANE DOE c. Copyright, 1988. by The McClure Newspaper syndicate. .——O—— THOSE DREAM HUSBANDS than flesh and blood could stand. and not even the great love she had for her husband could with- stand the use of that. disgusting article after each meal. Luckily she possessed sensible parents and a few sound words in private to the astonished benedlct about the advisability of not slacking in matters of personal good taste soon put matters right. You may laugh. oh lady of the dreams. but it is these unrefined trifles, these little inconsidera- tions. these lapses into bad taste. these revelations of vulgarity which hurt like the dickens in married life. Itisallverywelltodreamof your ideal man, but don't make the mistake of thinking he will never be liable to colds in the head: to toothache, when he is far from pretty; to the sulks. when he is not in the least lovable: to bad. temper. when he is unmanage- able; to fits of depression and moodlness. when he is most un- happy; to stupid jealousies when he is most unreasonable. and to little vices and habits which are most unlovely. And this is where a girl once married and joined in holy matri- mony to a very earth—earthy husband must prove her worth. Let her scrap her shattered dreams of the perfect partner and try to build as near a perfect hus- band out of very imperfect mate- rial. And this needs oh! such lots ct tact and good humor and common- sense. and jollity and firmness and unselfishness. But a man who loves a girl dearly is nearly always anxious to confirm when ideal in every re- spect and a little coaxing (no bossing or huttying. mind you!) and a. little fussing goes a long way with him. And the more fussing and tho more coaxing and petting. the happier and more willing the husband. The Why of Superstitions By H. IRVING KING. SCARING THE SCREECH-OWL. O O EVERYBODY knows. of course.,some article of clothing. like your that bad omen. It foretells misfortune at least—sonic. people say death in the fa'mily. The superstition has al- ready been dealt with in this series. It is an idea. of primitive man, exists today among all savage peoples who know the owl ’or its congeners. and lingers in the superstitions of civil- ized races. But as every bane is said to have its antidote, the evil effects of the owl's booting may be worded off if you only use the right magic. The directions for counteracting the evil omen of the booting owl differ in different parts of the coun- try: but they all appear to have as a basis the idea. of reversal which the ancients freely incorporated in their magic formulas. One way is to take on your shoe and turn it up- side down. Then the owl will flee away and no harm will ensue. In Kansas they say that taking off to hear a. screech-owlicoat. for instance. and putting it on sounding his melancholy note: in the darkness of the night is 11‘ again “wrong side out” will have the same effect. And down in Ala- bama you are advised to turn your pockets “wrong side out." The idea is this: The booting of the owl would. in the natural course of things. produce misfortune. It is natural to wear your coat "right side out." and your shoe, of course, must be worn with the sole down. Now reverse this natural order. Turn the shoe sole up. the~ coat wrong side out. and arrange the pockets in the reverse position from the natural one. This sets up Q counter current as it were—the nab- urnl' course of things is reversed. and, by sympathy. there is reversed. also, the ordinary effects of the owl's booting. This idea. of reversals in primitive magic is manifested in various su- peretitions of long descent. It was this idea. which caused witches to work baleful spells by repeating the Lord's Prayer backwards.
Norwalk Chronicler