Established By Wm. Need, 1870,
VOLUME XLIV.
Notin* to (Vnlitors.
Till-? is to Rive notice that the sn
seribera have obtained from th 1 0: j>li i
Court of Frederick county, Md., letter
testamentary on the estate of
SARAH E SAYLER,
d ceased. All persons having claim
against the estate of said deceisei a
hereby warned to exhibit 'he same w‘i
the voucher thereof legally autheiiuca'-
to the subscribers on or 0 'for; H teem
her 12. 1914, they in ly olh -r vise he
eluded from all bmeli .sot sa d esta e
Al persons indebted to said estate a ■
hereby warned to make immediate p y
rnent.
Given under our hand this 11th dry
May, 1914.
anna e weybright,
SADIE L. BOERNER,
may 14 5t Execulri.e-
Fii 10 UK KICK RAILROAD
Thurmoiit Division
Schedule In Erie t April 15, 1914.
All tra ns D lily unless specified
Leave Frederick Arrive Thu-mon!
5.00 a.' m fi *o a - 1,1
7.61 a. h. 16 a. m
HI, 10 a. 16 : ’6 a. n.
10.4 1 a. in 11 61 a. n
1. 59 p m 2.1b p n
4.10 p. 45Jp. n .
45i p. m o : j'i p. i>
6. 10 ii. in 656 p
f-'.6)p. m. Sunday Only 9.17 p. in
lu.uT p. m 10 48 p. i>
Leave Thurm >nt. Arrive Frederi
6.1 D a. in •••• •’ •>* a
-8.25 a. 9 08 a. in
11.55 a. 12.68 a. n .
2.20 ]i. 6 92 p. i* .
5.10 p 5 55 p tr.
6.15 p. 60>9 p n .
7.(5 p. m 7.49 p i .
925|) m Sunday Only K> 05 p n
11.00 p. in U .41 p. ti
Nate All tr.ins a 'rivin r an I leavin
T.mrm >nt scha luted from Western Mary
lan 1 st i d >n
Note All trains arriving an) leaving
Frederick scheduled from Square.
Western Maryland R. K.
Schedule In Effect April 15, 1914
GOING WEST,
v *> £ ~
v o § •.„ J- 5- &
?.= ?E -cS -c| -c.S
<Jf <5 <5
•6.40 am 5.48 am IT 20am 110.30 am
$8.20 11.00 12.20pm
9,05 11.41 arl.lo 6.45pm B.loam
t4.oopm 6.12pm ar7.40
$7.10 9.22 10.50
9.00 10.55 lei 2.0(5 2.40 9.00pm
GOING EAST.
£ *- QJ
0> Z v o £
> £ >u > C > £
cfl y ? 44 : w U >-•-
j be
- i J 22 <&
•J H
•8.25 am 2.28 am 5,05 am 6.05 am B.loam
•7.00 8.20 10.60
$7.15 10.15 3.16 5.45pm
•B.oopm 1.27pm 3.50pm 5.11pm 7.05
•4.15 5.42 8.27
•Daily. sDaily except Sunday. sSunday
Only.
OVER 66 YEARS
EXP ERI EN C E
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' Copyrights Ac.
Anyone fending a aketrh and description inn i
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I‘utenta taken through Muim A C o. recelv
tperial notice, without cbnriro, In the
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A handiomplr ll'n.lrnl<l Hr. I.reet rlr
filiation of fl'iv i uiuii t'liriuil. Term., T. I
year: four molillia, Bold by all newsdealer-
MUNN & Co. 36,8ro * dw * y New Yon
branch Office. 026 F Ht„ Washing ton, I). C.
TRKSFASS NOTICE.
Notice is hereby given to all persons
not to trespass with dogs, guns, fishing
or cutting down of any timber upon my
mountain land, home place or the Wid
hide place, or on any land belonging to
me w.ierever situated, as the Law will
be strictly enforced against such person
or persons.
MRS. CHARLES SHIPLEY,
july 16 tf
THE
MUfUAL INSURANCE CO.
OF FREDERICK COUNTY.
Organized 1843.
Office—46 North Market Street
Frederick, Md,
A. C. MsCardell, 0. C Warehime
President. Secretary.
SURPLUS, 835,000.00.
No Premium Notes Required.
Save 25% and Insure with a Home
Company.
DIRECTORS
Josedh G. Miller, O. P. Bennett,
James Houck, R. S. J. Dutrow,
Milton G. Urner, Casper E. Cline,
A. C. McCardell, Charles B, Trail,
Dr, D. F. McKinney, Clayton O. Keedy,
George A. Deau, P. N. Hammaker.
Rates furnished on application to our
resident director, P. N. Hammaker,
or by L. W. Armacost, Agent,
fsb. 13 lyr.
The Catoctin clarion.
All Honor to the Sleeping Heroes j
t .■ 4' : > ,y' ... om f -c-V v ‘ /
B f
f Sleep on, brave hearts, and taKe your rest,
A hundred million strong and free
Shall guard in each heroic breast
ii Your pure and priceless legacy. i
|i| Twas not in vain, O noble band, mm
If Your blood imbued Columbia’s sod, W
United now her children stand — i
J One flag, one country, and one God.
IP \ i
| /sft&'y' '-Li ?
// \ y - 4 'V' ' ] K
OV'0 V ' ' ; J
§s■-
OOGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCO
Memorial Day
from the
Lighter Side
By S. E. KISER
00000000000000000000000000
IN HIS WAY.
“Never forget, my child," said Ihe
millionaire, “that your grandfather
was a hero.”
"What did grandfather do to become
a hero?"
“He fought for three years In the
greatest war the world has ever seen.”
“Was ho a general?”
"No.”
"A colonel?”
"No."
“A captain?”
“No, he was a private soldier, but
you must not forget that one who
fights In the ranks may be as great
a hero as the highest officer.”
"Was grandfather as great as you
i are?”
"Oh, no, be wasn’t as great as 1
A Family Newspaper- Independent in Politics—Devoted to Literature, Local and General Nows.
THURMONT, FREDERICK COUNTY, MD., THURSDAY, MAY 28, 1914.
am. You see people can read my
name on the billboards all over our
broad land; but in his way he was a
good deal of a man."
ambition.
“Well, my little man," said the
preacher as he patted the boy on the
head, "I hope you are going to grow
up to be a good and patriotic man.
Look at those heroes marching past.
There can be no greater earthly glory
than they have won. 1 hope we may
never have another war, but If we
do, I am sure you will be ready to
light for your country. Don’t you
wish that you may, when you are an
old man, be loved and honored as
those brave old men who are inarch
ing past are loved and honored?"
"Oh, no, 1 don’t want to be like
them. Pa says it pays lots better to
do something that will make every
body talk about you so you can go
out lecturing about It."
ONE KIND.
"Pa, what is a paradox?"
"A paradox, my child, Is a politician
making a Memorial day address with
out using the occasion to try to fur
ther his political interests.”
AA A AM.AJk
GENEROSITY.
“Why do we have Memorial day?"
asked the teacher.
"I know.” said Willie.
“Please let us hear your explana
tion.”
"So the men that own automobiles
cau show that they are not too proutj
to let the old soldiers ride In them,
even If they are all dusty."
THE MODERN IDEA.
"Dearest." he said, “will you go with
me to the cemetery to scatter flowers
on the graves of the heroes?"
"Oh, 1 don’t like to go to ceme
teries. They are so depressing.”
"Very well. We might go (or a
nice long drive Into the country. All
nature is at Its best now."
“Why do you suggest such stupid
things? Can’t we go to an automo
bile race or something where there
will be a chance that somebody will
be smashed up? I want to be
thrilled.”
HIS MADDEST, MERRIEST DAY.
If you're waking call me early, call me
early, mother, dear;
Tomorrow'll be the gladdest day of all
this glorious year.
The maddest, merriest day, mother, that
I may ever see,
So knock upon my door, mother, until you
waken me.
I've oiled my motorcycle—lt will be a
holiday—
I’ll make It hot for chickens that Unger
In my way ;
1 may run over children or old people.
mother dear,
But It will bo the greatest day that we
have had this year.
Let others hour the speeches the orator*
shall make,
Hut I’ll be smashing records—l’ve thrown
away my brake;
So call mo early, mother: let me eat and
get away
To help to spread the terrors that mar
Memorial day.
Day sfk)iy
(Copyright, by Dally Story i*ub. Co.)
fHE lonely grave down In
the southwest corner was
heaped over with red roses
and white lilies that rose In
a glowing, fragrant, raptur
ous mass of concentrated
lire and snow. The girl
who bent over It to place
one last white blossom on
the glorious pile seemed
afar from the world by her
rapt devotion to tbe lone grave.
She had never seen the soldier who
had gone to rest from the battle un
der the green-sodded mound encircled
by the arbor vitae, yet she could not
remember a time when she had not
put flowers each year over the un
known dead. Through her childhood
she had come with her mother, who
had saved tbe most beautiful roses and
lilies In the garden to deck that grave
when flower day should come. Now
she came alone, more us a memorial
to her lost and gone mother than In
any fancied remembrance of the dead
soldier. Every 30th of May they had
thus decked his grave, though when
Elsie could Just remember there had
been no public celebration of the day.
"It is the day he died," said her
mother once when she had gloried lu
the beauty of the May that was dying
in supernatural light.
"He was killed in battle?" she had
asked, looking back at tbe grave
where a glint of sunlight drafting
through the trees fell across the rose
and snow piled above It. There was
an instant's pause and then tbe reply
sof'-ly spoken;
“Ves, the hardest battle man ever
fought."
That was years ago and now Uie
whole nation had chosen the day of
this man's death as the time for re
membering with outward observance
the heroic dead.
“In sacred memory of a soldier of
the South," was the Inscription on the
marble slab at the bead. Nothing to
show to what southern hearts he bad
been dear lu the olden days of Are
and storm, nor what had been his
rank in that devoted army that had
sealed Its faith with the blood red
seal.
There were other soldiers of the
South sleeping on that hillside at
peace with the soldiers of the North
who shared their spacious grounds
Rosemont had been near tbe line In
war days and they who wore the gray
and they who wore the blue had come
back to their home to the beat of
muffled drums and gone to rest side
Conveyed Her Last Farewell to the
Unknown Dead.
by side, with never a vestige of bat
tle rage burning in their still hearts.
"Why Is not his name there?" she
had asked her mother on the first day
she could remember In her childhood
when she had stood beside the mound
and put a glowing red rose at Its head
with a little hand that was hidden by
the great crimson blossom.
“I think he would have wished It
so,” was the reply In a low tone that
left no room tor further questioning.
As she went out by the pathway
through the circle of green a young
man, meeting her. took off his hat and
bowed, the sun striking gold sparkles
from his hair as he bent his uncov
ered head before her. A soft color
swept over her face as she returned
Ills greeting. They walked together
between long lines of mounds with lit
tle stones at their heads, each with a
name that belonged to the village rec
ords and had a distinctive place in
the village heart. Thus they went
silently until they came to a monu
ment that far overtopped all the other
stones In those consecrated grounds.
They looked at the marble shaft
with Its head lifted high against the
golden light. The name it bore was
of one who belonged to the world and
to history. He seemed far away in
some lofty region from which he sent
no Individual appeal to their hearts.
Alan floldwin looked from the cold
white marble to the girl at his side.
What a vivid gleam of light she was
among tho graves.
"My Quest among the graves has a
sad object," he said. "My father Is
buried somewhere, 1 know not where.
In an unknown grave. He used to
live here when he was a youth. He
went to a southern state and when
the war began he enlisted in Lee's
army.”
"He was killed in battle?"
"No, not in battle. He lies in what
the world might call a dishonored
They Looked at the Marble Slab.
grave, but It is not dishonored, for It
covers as noble a heart as ever beat.
He was shot by order of his command
ing officer, but I know he was never
guilty of any wrong.”
She looked up at him with eyea
shining with tears.
"I am sure of that,” she said.
He turned Insistent eyes toward her
and his voice was low and tense with
feeling.
"You know why I tell you this?"
Yes, she knew. It was like that
frank honor that looked out from hia
eyes to tell her whatever there might
be In hia history that would seem
clouded.
"The camp was attacked Immedi
ately after and it was all the living
could do to save themselves. The
dead were left to bury their dead.”
They stood for a long time in si
lence with their eyes fixed on the
marble shaft that bore the name great
before tho world. Hut they did not
see the monument or the name. They
only saw a lonely grave somewhere
with no shaft to mark Its place afid
no name to show whose loved one had
been glorified with tho chrism of death
Alone In her room that afternoon
Elsie remembered what day It was for
her.
"My birthday,” she said. "I am
twenty and tho war has been over
twenty years. Today I was to know
the story of the unnamed grave.”
She opened her trunk and took from
it a silver casket, which she unlocked
with a gold key. In It was a folded
manuscript that she held a moment
reverently In her hands. Her mother's
hands were the last to touch It, when
she put It away In the casket to bu
read on the twentieth birthday. At
last she opened it and read;
"When my child is twenty I want
her to know the sad story of Alan Gold
win. I am writing It down that sho
may read It for herself should I not
bo here to tell It.
‘1 suppose a girl never knows why
she prefers one man to another; that
is. If she really loves him. Almost
anyone might say that Alan was liner
than Will Melwood and better adapted
to win admiration and confidence. Hut
these, Important os they are, are not
exactly love. Alan remained my
friend, but soon after my marriage he
went South and a few years later I
heard that he was married.
“When the war began our people
were about equally divided in senti
ment between North and South. Will
joined the Union army. In a skirmish
one day he was taken prisoner and
confined in a tent to await transpor
tation to Libby prison next day. A a
night fell a sense of loneliness en
veloped him In darkness. He had ex
pected to be killed in battle and was
prepared to die for his Hag as is a
soldier's duty. A dash on to the field,
a hand-to-hand struggle, sudden dark
ness—that was a soldier’s death.
"Suddenly the door opened and the
sentinel stood before the prisoner, who
turned toward him. wondering why he
Terms SI.OO in Advance
NO. 11.
©HIS DAY is Sacred to
the groat heroic host
who kept this flag
above our heads—
sacred to the living and the dead,
—sacred to the scarred and
maimed sacred to the wives
who gave their husbands, to the
mothers who gave their sons.
Here in this peaceful land of
ours—here where the sun sh'nes,
where flowers grow, where chil
dren play, millions of armed men
battled for the right and breasted
on a thousand fields the iron
storms of war. These brave,
these incomparable men found
ed the first Republic. They ful
filled the prophecies, they brought
! to pass the dreams, they real
ized the hopes, that al I the g: eat
and good and wise andy ot have
made and had' since man was
man. But what of those who
full? There is no language to
express the debt we owe, the
love we bear, to all the dead who
died for us. Words are but bar
ren sounds. We can but stand
beside their graves and in the
hush andsilence feel whatspeech
has never told.— From t!e Memor
ial Day AJJress, Neiv York, ISS2,
by Robert G. Ingerso//,
hud come. Was he to start tonight
ou that long Journey to tho tomb?
” ‘Will Melwood. don’t you know
me?’
”'Alan Gold win!’
“For a moment they stood silent
with clasped hands. Then Alan un
wrapped a parcel he carried under hia
arm and displayed a ragged, discol
ored suit of brown clothes.
” 'lt makes no difference what kind
of clothes you wear, so they cover up
your colors. Our uniform is more dis
tinguished for ununiformity now than
anything else.’
” ’What are you going to do with
11. e?"
"T am going to save you for —her.*
"He it d Will from tho tent to a little
pathway through a chimp of trees.
"'Hut you—what will happen to
you?’
'"Nothing. Remember only that
you are going to her.’
"He turned buck and Will went
down the path and was picked up the
n-'Xt morning by a detachment of his
own regiment and taken by a circuit
ous route unknown to him back to the
camp from which he had escaped.
The Confederates, outnumbered, re
treated, leaving a dead man lying near
the teat where Will had been confined
the night before. Bonding over him
V ill recognized the face of Alan Gold
win.
"‘Wo have killed my best friend!’
“ ‘No, you nebber,’ said a negro, who
came up from the little belt of trees,
evidently a camp follower of neutral
i I Jit
/Iran
At Last She Opened It and Read.
sentiments. T was hyeah w'eu he wua
shot by his own kunnel's order ’kase
lu helped a pris’ner ter ’scape.’
"Will got permission to send hia
dt ad friend to his old home and on
his grave tho most beautiful lilies and
ro ;es from our garden have spent their
sv eotness on the anniversary ot hia
d* ath.”
Elsie walked to the window and
looked out through a mist of tears
that dimmed the golden wine of the
ru a that was poured In a radiant flood
over the world.
Alan Goldwin! That was tho name
of the young man whose quest was
among graves—that man who would
not say in words what his eyes had
told her. Sho saw him coming down
the lane toward her little gate. She
went to meet him, holding out her
hands.
"I will show you where he lies,” she
said, looking up with shining eyes.
He followed her, not comprehending
her meaning; knowing only that tho
warmth of the sunlight and the bloom
of the May roses had entered his
heart