Newspaper Page Text
Established By Wm. Need, 1870. VOLUME XLVIII. FRKI) K RIC K R AIL RO AI) Thurmont Division Schedule In Effect Sept. 22, 1918. All trains Daily unless specified Leave Frederick Arrive Thurmont. 7.29 a. 8. in a. m. 9.47 a. a- m -12 00 p 12.50 p. m. 2 (10 p m 2.5 n p m. 4 O') p, 4,50 p m. 4. jo p. rn Ex Sunday 530 p m 6 iO p. m 7 00 p. in. 820 p. m. Sunday Only 910 p. m 10.10 p. m. Daily 11 00 p. m. Leave Thurmont. Arrive Frederick. 6."0 a. rn 0 50 a. in. 830 a m 9.20 a. m. 10 40 a. H- 30 m -1.00 p. m .... 1.50 p. m. 3.00 p. 3,50 p. m. 5 12 p. in .0 p. m. 5 55 p. m. Ex ounday 0.48 p. m. 7.00 p 7.60 p. m. 9.20 p. m. Sunday t’-dy lO.iO p. m, 11 0) p.m. SitaHiV n' to G itoctin. Note—All trains arriving and leaving Thurmont scheduled from Western Mary land station. Note—All trains’arriving anl leaving Frederick scheduled from Square. Western Maryland Ry. Subject to change without notice. GOING WEST. S V w a § >a >u .fc-S 3 £ 'k II t, ■£ oik> >-60 *-S *; r: 23 H S O t 3 50am 547 715 •8 10“ 1033 11 53am 2.58 9.10 pm t 4 20pm 642 759 18.00 am 10.01 11.20 $7 00 pai 917 10 30 GOING EAST. ■o C £ £ ajto ® ° o>-~ arc 4)0 > c > i- >2 > E > C <3 3jo a 3 C .S g "be “iS za o 3 5 " n >-'j3 <3 co O S H M •7.10 am 8.29 am 10.52 am *7.ooam 12.55 pm 3.55 pm 5.00 pm 0.57 pm 4 25“ 529 “ 8 25“ •Daily. tDaily except Sunday. {Sunday Only. tbFokrtvg, atvfc forrt-axvg'beats \Vd*\t(*en6 &at - ou\x* \H)*QdVtU}COXVV*)CTtOAV.tt uimtlnua a OF FREDERICK COUNTY. OlHce—46 North Market Street Frederick, 31d. Commenced Business 1844. A Home Company for Home Insurers. SURPLUS 840,000.00 NO INCREASE IN RATE F Rates and Information apply to Peter N. Hammaker, Resident Director and Agent, Thurmont, Md. \}ova~ oicvpnxnoLiXws "Wvji v> atutd) taa&ftt. c*uaxaXtts\)oa , c - PEERLESS Paper MEAT Sacks An Hfe hi>' sum to prevent *klppr* In bn) II tbe sliup.e direction* oil oh *o< ere lol'uwed. -ijiaitt )T s>c, A sl aiVi HtvtP sfolt Vasiniiv<Hi7liSv (Tpw mull As noon as your infai Is smoked, In the earl. B|ii D r, before th* Blow ir sklpner fly puts In an at prarancr, place youi meat in inf sack, following th ilinplf direct lons plainly printed on each one, am you can rest assured that you will not be botheret h worms In your meat. •‘Peerless” Paper Meat Sacks are made from i ipeclally prepared, very tou/h, pliable, fttroiitf, close E allied, heavy paper, with our Perfect “Pfterlem* ittoin which Is air and water turht, and with care jnn he used for several years They are made li. tnicesly.es to suit all sizes of meat, and Mil at t. 4 And n cents .piece, according to alze. The larg* oi \ . nt <1 ye lake the hams and ehouhlere of tar w< 1. hill* (live weltfhl) from 3M to WO pound*, ac soruinp to bow tbe meat la trimmed; n.odium *r< .lent *lze from ZOO to MO pound* end th* ntllwl rent alar from 100 lo JOO pounda. A fair trial will fully auataln every claim ter mi Kelt-., and we feel that where enoe need mar wV 'C'nnp a household neceaalty. An* your grocer for then. Price >, 4 and a rente apiece, according to elac MAKurAorrmlD cult bt tbb Great Southern Ptg. & Hffl. Co rUKKKKIOK. MD The Catoctin Clarion. jEoiljcr’s Cljauhsgibinij She used to start the week before, Preparing for the day, * Peeling apples, cracking nuts— a E You know the cozy way. S Getting cook books from the shelves, W Y Her glasses on to sec Jfl Receipts for cooking wondrous things, fa bI For her four boys and me. If Thanksgiving morning, when the smells tt' Of turkey and mince pie, Jj 1? Began to steam about the house w 'R She breathed a happy sigh. jf Jj ]Her four boys now have gone to war, {a A proud sigh stirs her breast, § Her service flag sports four bright stars. The mother bears the test. Special Reasons Why Every American Should Be Grateful at This Season ’■’-jjSajpF thankful that you are llv yliTfci. lag in the most Important ' illSvl onl * n world’s history I and bearing a part In the fi momentous events which will be a landmark for all time to come. Be thankful that through the blood and suffering of three years’ terrible warfare the Is sues at last stand out sharply, and i hut we are fighting on the sldW of right and against might; for democ racy and against autocracy and mili tary despotism. He thankful that our great nation has the strength and vigor, the spirit and stamina, the men and resources to throw Into the balance at the criti cal time, thereby insuring victory for justice and humanity. He thankful that the United States will sit at the Peace Council, when the time is ripe, defending the rights of the small nations and peoples. In sisting upon a square deal for all. He thankful that our land has not been Invaded, our people murdered, our cities laid waste, as have those of i Greatest Day of Thanksgiving That ! Oup Beloved Nation Has Ever Known rFEW years ago we were thankful because we were rleh and powerful and safe; L now wo may be thankful fl because we are humbly try- lug to be brave and self sacrificing and virtuous. Therefore tins is by fur the greatest Thanksgiv ing day that this nation has known. The day, therefore, should lie not only one of thanksgiving but of consecra tion. The American people can now see that there Is (n this world some thing greater than the accumulation of wealth, and that life has values which they have not before appreci ated, After all our efforts to elimi nate pain from the world, we may learn that pain has a high disciplin ary value —that there Is such a thing as perfection through suffering. Our sacrifice In behalf of the world’s peace, safety and honor is just begin Ethan kfulm , eeeeee 4$S% IAM thankful that, lying on my back In tall grass, atop a hill, I have watched white clouds sail over a sky of measureless blue. [ am thankful that on a moonlit night In the desert I have beard the heartrending throb of an Indian chant bearing a dying chief to a heaven as real as the desert peaks, purple and black on the dim horizon. I am thankful that I know a New England town, elm-shadowed, silent, with a graveyard too large for It, wherein lie men and women who be got the Nation In the name of Clod, and laid them down to die In death less faith. 1 am thankful that I have seen youngsters diving In an old swimming hole, that I have seen lovers strolling in April twilights, that I have smelled sagebrush after rain, that I have seen babies take their first step, that I have known pain and death, laughter and tears, and work with blistered I * THURMONT, FREDERICK COUNTY, MD., THURSDAY. NOVEMBER 28.1918. Belgium, Serbia, Roumanla and parts of France and Italy. He thankful that we are far enough from the scene of strife to miss most nf Its horrors, but near enough to take an active and deciding part In the struggle; that our farms and facto ries, mines and marts are spared to produce tbe supplies so urgently needed by our allies. He thankful that we have an army and navy composed of the best ma terial in tbe land; our bravest sons sent forth to tight for the world’s freedom, as their great grandfathers fought for our freedom. He thankful that we were not afraid nr dismayed when the summons came, but stepped forward, prepared to bear a man’s part In the struggle and to help slay tbe beast that threatens the liberties of the world. He thankful that when this war Is over and the victory won, the Issues settled, there will be no more war; for tbe so-called divine right of kings and emperors—the right to exercise despotic sway over their subjects— will be no more. ning to be offered. Treasure and life will have to be poured out In unstint ed measure If this war Is to be won—■ as it will be. ■ Tbe American people should be deeply thankful that they are called to this great service, which Is nothing more than the return that they owe to humanity for the wonder ful blessings that have been showered upon them. “That I may know the fellowship of His sufferings"—such was the prayer of the apostle. Through their participation In the sorrow and suffer ing of their brethren the American people may develop a purer, stronger, more exalted and spiritual life than any they have hitherto known. The very somberness with which the day is enshrouded ought therefore to serve to glorify It. This year, of all years, we are thankful not for what we have hut for what we are able to do, and for the opportunity and will to do It. hands and with a back aching from heavy toll. But most of all I am thankful that I am living today so that, with the rest of thinking humans, I am witness of the birth of a new code for nations, a code so deep, so high, so filled with justice that one must believe the prophecy of Revelation to be coming true. As one with aching heart and streaming eyes must be thankful for the pains of motherhood which bring a new soul to earth, so I am thankftl for the heroic agony- of the Allies, which Is bringing a new spirit to the nations of the world. —Delineator. Oh, Joy / D’ye want to show the soldier boys How well we know we need ’em? Then share with them Thanksgiving joys— Just take ’em home and feed ’eml A Family Newspaper—lndependent in Politics—Devoted to Literature, Local and General News. r A r tK ' Vi lor m 0 A ThanksdiviS Bonner" letters can wait until Friday, Miss Johnson. To rj morrow we’re closed, you cp| know.” • <V~ “Very well, sir," said Miss Jobu-oii Si “You don’t seem to be es I peclully pleased,” contln ued Mr. Brown. “Most ol the girls welcome a holiday, They cau sleep and then go out dancing with some line young man. Ain’t you got a young man, Miss Johnson? Perhaps you’ve not been long enough In the city. Well, well, take your time. There’s a lot of these youngsters wjio can make love all right, all right, but when It comes to furnishing the home —they’d have a hard time doing it on the installment plan. The salaries of young men ain’t so big tin se days.” Mr. Brown was manager of the Jones & Cushing Wholesale Class and Crockery company. He was a large gentleman with watery blue eyes, ful lips and pudgy bauds, "I suppose you’ll be missing the old folks, eh?" continued the gentleman. "I guess I will miss them,” said Miss Johnson, with letters and notebook lu hand. ‘‘lt will be the first Thanksgiv ing I’ve been away. You see I took my course at business college lust Win ter uni) went home for the summer.” "To be sure,” said Mr. Brown. "It’s only two months since you eutne here, but you’ve won your wu> Into out hearts,” he added with n leer. "And I know how you feel,” be went on. "Just longing for the old folks and the kids. Mow’d you like some real turkey, eb? Well, we’ll have It, You’re only a child to me. I’m old enough to be your father." And with a look such us no fathei has ever given before or since, Mr. Brown moved Ids ebalr a little nearer "How about a Thanksgiving dlnnei with me tomorrow night? My wife has gone to see her old mother, who Is down sick. So let’s keep each othet coin puny, eb? And have real turkey What do you say? “We’ll go to one of the swell places where there’ll be cranberry sauce, too And we’ll hear music when we eat, that is If we get those noiseless soup spoons." Mr. Brown thought he whs a humorous man. “I guess I’ll go,” said Miss Johnson slowly. "Mood! I’ll call for you at six sharp and you have a good sleep and write home to the folks that you’re going out with a nice safe old fatherly man from the office.” Mr. Brown really flattered himself that he was neither old nor safe. Miss Johnson had closed the door ami gone to put her book and letters back in her desk. Mr. Courtney, one of the salesmen and Mr. Brown’s right hand inan, had noticed a slight flush on her face as she had passed him. He wondered If it could be possible that Mr. Brown bad Invited her to spend the holiday with him. But the Idea vanished and Just at that moment he was called to the telephone. The othet girls had gone to the cloakroom and Miss Johnson entered as they were preparing for the outside world. “What are you going to do tomor row, Johnny?” asked Miss Marks. It was the name the girls had given her. “I don't know Just yet," she an swered. “Bill and T are going to a Thanksgiv ing hall,” remarked Miss Angela Car ter. “And I’ve got a swell new dress mother’s making me.” There was a general discussion ns to the ways the holiday would he spent and at the downstairs door Miss John son separated from her companions and went over to the elevated. ****** "Courtney,” called Mr. Brown. “Yes, sir,” he answered. "Did that new shipment come In to day?” “No sir," said Mr. Courtney. “I don’t “Most Girls Welsome a Holiday." believe we’ll get It In until Monday now.” “Oh, all right, I Just wondered. Say, young man, don’t look so glum. Get a pretty girl and go off for the day to morrow. You need cheering up. It’s what I need, too. And I’ll have It, be lieve me. I’ve got a little peach for dinner. Quite a sport for an old pli?" mr —■ —— - | “Quite," said Mr. Courtney, quietly. ' “I don’t care much for girls, that is, most girls.” “Hum,” grunted Mr. Brown as the younger man left his office. “Falling In love, eh? She’ll soon tire of him, vfhoever she may be, if he doesn’t get a smile on his face once in a while,” “Has Miss Johnson left?" Mr. Court ney was asking of one of the stenog ! in pliers who was hurrying off, “Yes, left five minutes ago," was the answer. “You haven’t got her home address?” he asked. “No, hut I guess Mr. Brown has It. He keeps the addresses of the whole staff, you know." And she was gone. .Miss Johnson hoarded with friends -her mother had met during her one city trip—a week's excursion which had taken In the Hippodrome and the Flatiron building as wonders never to he forgotten. Usually she took her dinner downtown at a cheap table | d’hote, for Mrs. Fulmer, her mother’s : friend, did not care much for cooking I —and besides It had been arranged 1 that way—room and breakfast five | dollars a week. But tonight she would j go straight home without dinner, Per- I haps they would be making prepara tions for the great day. She bought an evening paper, two bananas and a sweetened roll and started up the ele vated stairs, j She reached home and opened the I door with her latchkey. From every I Indication every one was out. She j called for Mrs. Palmer but no reply came. Miss Johnson ate her meager repast and then went to the kitchen for a drink of water. Her meal had been dry and somehow It choked her a little. Kverythlng was so bard to swallow. Or was It that the lump In her throat got lu the way? At last ten o'clock came and Mrs. Palmer walked In. "Oh," said Miss Johnson, "I came home early tonight to know If I could help you with the dinner tomorrow. I'm going out my self. But mother has always said 1 Was handy with the dressing." "Pressing? Dinner?" repented Mrs. Palmer In amazement. "Oh, land, child, I don't go to no fuss for Thanks giving! What’s the use? I Just says to Bert Palmer and the kids, 'Now why should I be standing over a hot stove for hours when In no time you’d have all the stuff et up?’ So I let’s ’em Wondered If Mr. Brown Had Invited Her to Spend the Holiday With Him. sleep an;l then I runs down to the deli catessen and gets a few cold cuts and a hit of potato salad for a little extry, Say, why don't you go to the pictures more? I’ve been tonight to see ‘The Wayward Ctrl's Return Home.’ It was sad but oh, so beautiful.” But Miss Johnson was not thinking of the pictures. A few cold cuts and potato salad for Thanksgiving, she was thinking, and a football game and the theaters and movies. No family gathering, no turkey, no pumpkin pie | and cider. No children to be allowed j on that day to eat all they wanted. ; Maybe It was a day of national gorg ing. hut It was a family day anyway and It was Thanksgiving day. She tried to sleep. She didn’t want to think of the morrow. But she did, and at the same time came the vision of Mr. Brown, his watery eyes leering at her, and his pudgy hands holding hers so she couldn’t escape, and his lips—those fat lips—forcing—Oh no! She shivered and pulled the clothes around her tighter. Why had she said she would go? Perhaps he meant to be kind. But he had always been a little too kind, a little too considerate, It seemed now. Sometimes she had noticed a strange look on the part of Mr. Courtney, es pecially that afternoon. . . . She felt Ned Courtney thought Mr. Brown dictated less and talked more than was necessary. And It bothered her. But she was not sure, and she didn’t want to lose her job. It had been so hard —beginning with everything so new and different. Of all the men she had met In New York she cared most ly for Ned Courtney and his opinion. He had seemed sincere and every one In the office spoke so highly of him. She wondered what he’d think of this, and then she wondered why she wished she knew. So she thought on. Morning came. Her eyes were heavy. Sleep had coatifc 1 only In snatches. She dressed hastily ! and then laughed at herself for hurry ing. She wrote home and tried to make her letter cheerful. “Lydia! Lydia Johnson 1" same Mrs. Palmer’s voice from downstairs. “A gentleman to speak to you on the phone." Miss Johnson went down the stairs without hurrying. She had never ac qulred the habit of running to the tele phone ns If It were on fire and must he put out by lifting the receiver. “Hello,” she sold. . “Oh, good-morning, Miss Johnson,” came the voice from the other end, “I hope I didn’t get you up out of bed. No? You’re not u late sleeper even on a holiday? Well, I always knew you were smart. Just thought I’d call you up to tell you weil have that turkey tonight at six you know. I’ll he around In plenty of time. Look your sweet est !” “Oh, thank you, Mr. Brown. Yes, I’ll be ready a little before six.” At either end the receiver was hung up nnd ouch went off discontented. “I wonder If I’m wasting time and money on her," meditated Mr. Brown, "It’s all right to favor that country idea she has of a holiday hut I like a little appreciation In return. . , . But I guess I’ve got her where I want her. . . . Only I’d better not lose Started Up the Stairs. out by rushing things. She’s a bit dlf j ferent from the usual run of ’em.” Lydia returned to her room, passing by the Inquisitive eyes of Mrs, Palmer without answer. Later sin,, breukfasti 1, or rather lunched, wtlii the Palmer family. She I played the piano a little, and then, be fore returning to her room, decided j she would satisfy Mrs. Palmer’s curi osity. ' "I’m going to dinner with Mr. Brown of the firm,” she said. “He’s a father of children—not young and worthless." She laughed a little. "That’s good,” said Mrs. Palmer, “But wimt’s he doing taking you out today? Where’s his kids?" “Away to see a sick grandmother," said Lydia, and as she said It she felt that Mrs. Palmer nodded her head a little too understanding!)’. Lydia flushed slightly, “Now, listen, dearie,” said Mrs. Pal mer, “to a word of motherly advice. Get all that’s cornin’ to you. They think more of you when you make ’em spend—and If he’s old enough to be a father —and take you out —he’s likely got enough of the wherewithal. Say you like white furs. Tell him in a real baby tone you did wish you could have a silver mesh bag. While I promised i your mother I’d look after you, the city’s ways aren't the country’s ways— leastwise, not so I’d know It. And 1 want to see you get on.” She was thinking secretly of a new rug she might like herself. "Just work the old boy for all he’s worth, but take ray ad vice, and never fall In love. They’re done with you then, and you lose Inter est In others." Lydia had sat partly listening nnd partly dreaming of the Thanksgiving at home—the long table, her father's l Jokes, the children’s ceaseless chatter her mother hot and tired hut beaming. She arose. “I'll he careful," she said as she bit her lip. “I won’t fall In love. Don’t worry, Mrs. Palmer, I’m not so young as you might think.” She went to her room nnd closed hot door with a bang. Then softly opened It. An hour went by nnd then another Still another passed and Lydia was growing impatient. Her hat and gloves and coat were ready. She sat there, nervous and shaking. At last she heard Mrs. Palmer's shrill voice: “Lydia, Lydia.” | Lydia closed the door softly and then opened It noisily. “Yes,” she called back. “I'm Just going over to see the pic tures for an hour. I’ll he back In time j to fuss you up a bit for tonight. Don’t ! worry. I'll only be gone an hour." “All right, thank you, Mrs. Palmer," she called. She waited five minutes, then ten nnd at last put on her things. Quietly she stole down the stairs. She opened the door, looked np and down Hie street and then hurriedly walked along. ' “I guess,” she said slowly to herself, “I’ll go downtown.” And she went up the stairs to the elevated. “I suppose I’ll have to eat," she thought grimly. 1 Usually Rast’s table d’hote was crowded. There people were always Tried Hard to Make Her Letters Ap pear Cheerful. standing waiting for seats, looking an noyed and envious of those who were almost finished but who took so long over their coffee. Table d’hote diners had no right to take so long over their coffee, their expressions read quite plainly. But Mr. Bast was genial and always held his crowds by a suave i smile and a confidential manner of ! saying to each customer, ‘Til have a table la Just a moment for you." But this evening there were few at Bast's. The whole place looked strangely empty. “Plenty of tables tonight,” said Miss Johnson. Terms SI.OO in Advance. NO. 38 •‘Yes, miss," Mr. Rust smilingly ad mitted. "But If some folks knew wlmt an extra menu I give for Thanksgiv ing tjiey would not be eating home. Trouble Isn't that, altogether, but here * . the business section there ain’t much going on today. Have your choice of tables.” And with a flourish Mr. Bast still retained his manner of personal Interest and of a great desire to please. Lydia Johnson took her seat and looked at the menu. It was Just about the same ns usual, but Mr. Hast had been true to his boast. There on the top was an additional sheet of thin pa per, reading in watery Ink, “Special for Today.” Below was “Thanksgiv ing turkey and cranberry sauce. Sqrash pie. apple elder.” Lydia ordered them, scarcely notic ing that they were a little special In price, too. Olives and celery were put In front of her and a small dish of relish. She tasted some and as she put down her fork she saw Ned Courtney entering. As he caught sight of her his eyes brightened and his step became more buoyant. "May I sit h. re?” he asked, pointing to the vacant chair opposite her. "Yes, do," said Lydia quickly. “I’m all alone. I’m kind of homesick, any way,” she admitted, as her eyes shone a little mistily. “They make a regular fuss over Thanksgiving day at home. I'm from the country, you know. And I guess I’m still a bit of a youngster. It’s my fit i Thanksgiving aw.iy from home.” "And you’re here, you poor child.” said Mr. Court:.oy, who was possibly two years her senior. "Of all the God forsaken places In the world, the city takes the lend on a holiday when you’ve no special pals—and when you've been used to the other kind. It’s my first Thanksgiving day here 1 .” "Mother makes an awful fuss over the day,” said Lydia. “And pop is Just as had. Always jokes we’re not going to have turkey and we always do, ol course." "Of course,” agreed Mr. Courtney, "and pumpkin pie and older. I set you’ve ordered the specials. Well, 1 guess I will too. Squash pie, eh? 1 suppose they haven’t any pumpkin.” They ate their dinner and eact "I See You’ve Ordered the Specials.’ talked of the times at home—othei Thanksgivings. “Do you come here often?" askef Mr. Courtney. “Almost always," she answered. “1 wasn’t going to come tonight, and thet I thought I would. I've never sect you here before.” “No, It’s my first appearance, thougt I guess I know all the other placet like this. One of the boys told tm about it at the Where did yot think you’d go? 1 mean tonight, If yoi hadn't come here?” “Mr. Brown asked me to have dlnnei i with him. He said his wife and twe• kids were up with his-mother-ln-Inw who’s sick. She lives in the country and so he’d he all alone. I guess h meant it kindly, but somehow I Just felt kind o’ queer about going.” “Thank Ood you did," said Mr Courtney with a sudden burst of re llglous fervor. “Wife and two kids and a mother-ln-lnw —all to fool yoi with! Why he’s not even married! 1 pity the poor creature who would evei marry him. pe’s asked all the girls In the office to go out with him. Ht threatens to fire ’em If they don’t ac cept, but If they’re any good at theli work he figures on business first —and besides It would look queer to the parb ners. “I’ve seen him eyeing you,” he con tinued. “And I’ve said to myself often, ‘lf he lays a hand on her I’ll —’ Tried to work on your homesickness! Ugh!" Miss Johnson hud turned crimson. “I’ve always been home Thanksgiving before," she murmured again. She had talked a good deal to Ned Court ney In the shop and the girls hud teased her about him. But he had never “asked her out.” She felt mis erably friendless. "Listen,” she heard him say, "I’ve cared for you ever since you first stepped into Jones & Cushing’s, and I’d like to see you step out. My fa ther’s ready any day to hand over the farm to me, and the farm life !s fhe real life. Will you—will you—ln a lit tle while, marry me? Mr. Bnown nn fire us both. Weil never be at his mercy again on Thanksgiving day. Weil have a country Thanksgiving and weil let the kids cat all they want —that Is—later on.” He grew uncom fortably red. He had been rushing a little too fust. Lydia looked at him first a full mo ment. thou looked away. "I’ve always wished you cared for me,” she said softly to the empty table opposite. “That’s enough," said Mr. Courtney, “weil make up for this, beginulag with Christmas.” “Anything else?” murmured the waiter for the third time. "Oh,” said Mr. Courtney, “black cof fee for two!” (CW‘l(ta. 1818, Wtsurn Union.)