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Garrett P. Servi** Tell* Why the Winter Period h Shorter Than Summer ' By OARRETT P SERVIS* In a recant artici*- I not? you five th? dat?t* of th? ?qulnoz?? ?M March 21 nnd September -3 Thl? teak?? th? spring and auniroer *???? day? longer than th? autumn and * inter Will you lilaan raplaln why thl? happens? la th? distane? from th? equator to Capricorn that much greater than to Can ner V Or is the north pol? enough heavier than th? couth pole to cause the latter to ? wing the greater distane?? Ware the distances equal why ?heald not th? equinoxes be exactly half way between the equator and the solstices and so dlvld? th? year into fair equal pert*!? A- N. BABCOCK. G IK beet way to understand the origin of the difference to which you refer 1? to con sider the year as divided Into two parts?a summer half and a win ter half, the summer half of the year for the northern hemisphere, extending from the Vernal, or spring, equinox to the autumnal? equinox, and the winter half from the autumnal equinox to the Ver nal equinox. The Sommer Half. During the summer half the sun ia north of the equator, and during the winter half it is south of the equator. Now, the dates of the equinoxes being, respectively, March 20 or 21 for the Vernal and September 22 or 23 for the au tumnal (the adjustments of the calendar make them slightly vari able), it follows, as Vou have no ticed, that the summer half is a week longer than the winter half. How does this difference arise? Not, as you suggest, from any dif ference tn distance of the two trop ical circles from the equator, or from any wobbling of the axis of the earth, but from the elliptical form of the earth's orbit and from the varying speed of the earth In its motion around the sun, this variation being a consequence of the elliptical from of the orbit. The length of the orbit is nearly is?,000,000 milee, and the sun, which occupies the point around which the earth revolves Is situ ated In one of the foci of the ellipse, about 1,500,006 miles from the center measured along the major axis. If, then, a perpendic ular to the major axis of the ellipse be drawn through the sun it will divide the orbit into two halves, one slightly larger than the other. But because the orbit Ib inclined to the plane of the equator the points where it crosses that plane must lie on the perpendicular just described. Now, these points are the equin oxes, since the plane of the orbit is identical with that of the ecliptic, or the apparent yearly path of the sun through the con stellations. It follows that the line joining the equinoxes divides I the yearly path of the earth into two slightly unequal halves, and, that being so, the earth has a shorter distance to travel In describing the half of Its orbit whlcb Is nearest the sun than in describing the other half. Speed of Irani. This alone would make a slight difference of length between the winter and summer portions of the year. But the difference is greatly Increased by the fact that the speed of the earth varies in versely with Ita distance from the sun, so that when it Is in the part of Its orbli which lies on tnat side of the center of the ellipse where the sun is, it must travel faster than when tt Is In the opposite part. In fact, when the earth is near est the sun it travels about 18.7 miles per second, and when it is farthest from the sun about 18.3 miles per second. The motion of the earth being reflected in an apparent motion of the sun, the latter appears to travel about one minute of arc more than a de gree per day when the earth is nearest, and about three minutes ?f arc less than a degree per day when the earth is farthest One thing more is needed to complete the explanation. It so happens that, at the present time (and not much change will occur for thousands of years), the earth is nearest the sun when winter prevails in the northern hemis phere, and farthest from the sun when summer prevails in the same hemisphere. The result of this tate of affairs, combined with what has been said above, is that our winters are about seven days shorter than our summers, count ing winter from the autumnal to the vernal equinox and summer from the vernal to the autumnal equinox. In the southern hemisphere ex nctly the opposite state of affairs prevails, the^ winter belonging to the longer and the summer to the shorter half of the year, as divid ed by the equinoxes. But, owing to a combination of two causes, one the precession of the equi noxes, which makes the poles of the earth's axis revolve around the poles of the ecliptic, in a period of about 26,000 years, and the other a revolution of the major axis of the earth's orbit, which takes place in a period of 105,000 vears (in a direction opposite to the precession), the present situ ation will be reversed in about 10.R0O year?, and then it will be the northern hemisphere that will tsave winter longer than summer. Nameless Mountain Found By Woman By MADGE OLDRING. LAST January a Chicago wom an left that metropolis in search of anow, wind, weather, storms, sleet, ice, and chilly atmoaphere. To some it may seem as though bhe might have found at least a touch of those thinge by exploring almost any section o-f the arctic Michigan avtnue. "But there weren't any northern light-: ot. Michigan avenue," ..uv ? this extraordinary woman, who is Mrs. Laurie R. tYazeur. And so Mrs. Frazeur, who ia a member of the American Alpine Club and a veteran mountain climber, set out to do what no woman haa before achieved. She went over the pass of Mount Rob son in the wild white winter weather. Other women have crossed the pana in the bland summer time, but nobody ever seemed to care for the trip in winter. Build Their Tepees. "Nevertheless, it was wonder ful," says Mrs. Frazsur. "We built our tepees in the pine forests on old caribou trails. At night we could hear the caribou swiching in the forest, and we found the dainty tracks of unknown animals in the snow. We saw the ptarmingan in its white winter coat, and the delicate water ousel, that fairy bird, diving in the icy spray. "We saw the northern lights play upon the shining white moun tains, and saw the banners, made by the wind, flinging out the pow dery snow, and watched them glow rose in the sunset, then gold, then a ghostly blue white in the moonlight. , "We never met any living thin? but Indians, wolves and caribou. We traveled on enowsnoes, and wore five pairs of socks, tvfro pairs of moccasins three or four shirts and the heavy suits of northern woodsmen. Our beds were pine boughs, piled on the snow, and we wrapped up in Hudson Bay blankets. Cold? Oh, no, just cool. And the cheering thing about it is that the climate is too cold for germs, and there is not the slight est danger of catching colds or pneumonia. You might freeze to death, but you would never have ;. cold. "Mount Robson is 13,06*?? leet high, the highest mountain in the Canadian Rockies. "I went over the pass for the first time last summer, and was so charmed by Mount Robson that I was bound to see it in win ter. We got our outfit at Jasper. The guide was Donald Philips, who, with five other men, made the first ascent of Mount Robson in 1909. "We went horseback up the valley of the 1,000 falls, north over the continental divide, up the Great Smoky river, north from the head waters of the divide, near 'The Piece,' and ascended the Short river. I am the first woman who has gone up that river. We crossed the Great Smoky twice on snowshoes, and as the ice twirled around I felt that Eliza's excursion in bare feet must have been a simple matter. "Near Mount Robson was a majestic, white, namelese peak, 10,000 feet high. The guide and I climbed to the summit and built our cairn there. A cairn is a rude pile of stones built by the first explorer of a mountain to mark his work. We scratched our names on a rock and put it in the cairn. Some time I may go through the formality of ap plying to the Government to have the mountain named for me. Likes Advent urei?. "Why do I climb mountains? Oh, to clear the cobwebs out of my brain, and keep from get ting too bookish. As teacher of Latin and Greek I hear all about how Caesar crossed the Rubicon and the Rhine, but I like to get out myself into the adventures of crossing the Great Smoky and seeing the marvels of the present day. "I have climbed every summer for the past twelve years, and when the war broke out I waa In Italy, had ascended Vestivi is. and was planning to climb In the Alps. But this summer I don't expect to climb. I have the endurance of four women, and I want to co to France when school closes and help With the canteen work. Mv plans are not completed, however." * Mrs. Frazeur has climbed all the hieheit ne-ik? on the Pacific coast. Mount Whitney, Mount Ruinier, Mount Shasta. Mount St. Helenes. Mount Roher, Mount Hood, Mount Adams and Mount l.ytle and ?-?tit-ara. A Romantic New Song of Popular Appeal "Dreamland Brings Mem'ries of You" Is One of the Big Successes of the Season ?W ?? . hap - fj 'walk kk? ..1M M _ir, LIFE may tumble ns here and there. It may toss about our mOaSt cherished Illusions. Sorrows may come not singly, but In battalions. A ?lek heart and a hurt mind may say with the man of old that all is vanity and vexation of spirit But then comes to us life's Oreat Phy sician, sleep with his sedative ot fond memories?his tonic of remem bered Joys. A new song of popular appeal. "Dreamland Brings Mem'ries of You." gives expression to this most human comfort. Perhaps thit is one of the reasons why It has won such a phenomenal vogue both on the stage and In the home. Moreover the music has a swing and haunting quality that places it at once among the tunes to be remembered. "Dreamland , leim -vitti ata tt Masa, Dir*?lie. ?nag? _____ ?f j??. Urings Mem'ries of You" Is a song in a thousand. It sings itself Into your heart. The words follow: Dreams to-night are taking me, Back to the days of yore Days of love that used to be, t In dream-land I live them once ????. When the twilight shadows fall, I feel as tho' you're near; Dreams I know will soci recall __._ Our love days that hr'd so much cheer. The Rhyming Optimist By Aline Michaelis. ? ? 1? meek and mllfi In Summer and hin billa you -scarcely not?*. But th'* January plum ber?can he put you <m th?** lilimmrr? We will iay h?* ffcts your goat. There's a very ancient saying* that nodi doff will have his ?lay; now. when other folks Ko Maying and are busy with their haying plumbers are not very Ray. For th?*y do their watchful waitinff while the Icem-ir haa his fling, while the little blrJs are matinff. building nests with loud debating, plumbers seldom dance and sing. There is no one any dumber in the sultry Augi at daya than thla very self-same plum ber, glum he growa and ever glum mer till he ?ee.? the autumn ha*??. Then, quite1 early in October when coal prices start to climb and moat other folks get sober from tho bleakness of October plumbers renl ly feel sublime. For there com? ?ome little freezes?nothing much, of course, at flrst?but atill colder blow tho breezes and the water pipes get wheezes until people f?.ir the worst. Yes, the winds keep getting colder till all chappies chill and quake, and .lack Frost grows ever bolder, alaps the plumber on the shoulder, saying: "Hello, pal, let's shake!" It la far indeed from pleasing when It's zero all about and you're busy coughing, sneezing, then the pipes Insist on freezing till they start a waterspout Swim ming you may deem delightful. yet it fills your soul with care wh?n a waterfall despiteful ambles In a manner frightful through the hill and down the ?tftlr. This Is wh>>n you call the plumber, sending out an I O F. and you feel you must succumb or hibernate until next summer If he can't aid your dis tress. Don't peel apples for apple sauce, wlp?? them well, cut up without peeling, add water, and conk till thoroughly ?oft, then rub th? pulp thr-rxagh a e__.tr?? ?tern. The New Sport Coats NOW that the winter style? in coats arc well established fashion has offered a novelty that promisee to become very pop ular if one is to Judge by the en thusiasm women are showing over this new sport coat. I-'ur-trlmm? d, luxurious wraps finii no place when one motore or golia, or skates or rides. Smart and snappy with com fort combined with style is the coat 'hat la now being; shown for wln '?r sport wear. One model that Is particularly well liked by young Kirie la of c?mela' hair cloth in a lovely shade of tan. The coat is fashioned on? strictly tailored linea and falla con siderably h/?)ow the hips. It but tons up comfortably about the throat, but on warm days may be oponed and rolled back becomingly Great pockets nrc patched un the front, two above the belt and two below and finished with bin flaps. To Insure warmth, this attractive coat is double-breasted, but la only half lined. To slip on over the riding: habit there Is a long, flare coat of rain proof fabric that la wonderfully serviceable. For this one chooses a raglan model and leta It fall well below tho knees to the top of the smart riding boots. Silt pocket? provide an appropriate place for holding giovi?, change, etc. Of shower-proof cravenette is another coat that defies all kinds of weather. This" model reaehes from the throat to the ankles, af fording splendid protection ngnlnst rain or snow It is copied after the na-zy coats so prominent last year, and the novel feature is the silt pockets but at elbow height rather than below the waist line. fS.-mi fttted I? thin coat and Ita long linca are unbroken by a belt. leather sport coats are well liked for outdoor wear, an 1 are aoine tlme? lined with lamb's wool or rhamol? for warmth Ung?an elees a | ?ini a leather belt lend an attrac tlme not.? t?. thi? Ihre?.quarter coat A new polo coat that I? warm and ta sml ing not quite to the shoe, top; seven eights length It la described. This Mii.irt coat is ahown in all shades of brown, but the lighter shadea are most popular. With this coat, one wears a plaid skirt closely plaited and hiifli sport shoes. So loose and comfortable is the new polo oat that one may easily wear a sweater or suit underneath. As Clear as Mud. "Fathw." said the eon, looking up from a book with a puzzled ex pression on his face, "what Is pride?'' ?I'ride." returned the father, "pride! Why?a- Oh, surely you know what pride Is! A sort of being stuck up. a kind of?well, proud, you know. Just get the dic tionary: that's the thing to tell you exactly what It Is. There's nothing like a dictionary. Johnnie" "Her? It Is," aald the latter, after an exhausting search. "Pride? being praiud." Urn?yes. that's It," replied the father. ?Hut"? "Well, look at 'proud.' Thats the way you have got to hunt these things out, my lad." "I've got It," answered Johnnie. "I're-pri?pro? Why" "What does It say?" " 'Froud- -having pride.' " "That's It! There you are. as clear ?? day. I tell you, Johnnie, there Is nothing like a good dic tionary when you are young. Take car? of the binding, my son, as you put It back." A Good Remedy. Hutband - Can you tell what nils my wife? Doctor?She doe? not take enough outdoor ex. rclae. Husband She do?* not feel ilk? It r>o<*tor True, She needs toning up ll'i'ha-ind Whit lis? e ? t pr?. scribed? Do You Know That? The wasp la affected by color*, even to the extent of stinging the wearer of unpopular hue?? The school children of Leyton, Essex, have bought war savings certificates to the value of over ?48.000? Women bank clerks claim they are being retained because they have proved quicker and more ac curate than men? Paraguay has valuable forest re sources, the most important of which Is quebracho, particularly rich In tannin. Women porters carry the luggage of tourists on the Island of Capri. The men are occupied as fishers, coachmen and coral seller?. When a youn woman of the Phil ippine? marries her husband's name Is added to her maiden name. If she become? a widow the husband'? Damn is discarded. His Wife Didn't. The lecturer wa? growing very vehement In the course of hi? ad dre?s. His subject wa?: "The Ideal Wife." "As tve all know," he ?aid, "the duty of a wife is to be a loving helpmate' to her husband, by cook ing his food, attending to hi? vari ous requirements, conducting his household affair? properly, and ?o on and so on." Then a little fellow In front got up and blurted out: "They don't do the last thing you mentioned, mister." "Which one Is that?' asked the lerturer. ?Wliy.'? ?aid the lltllr. fellow. ' sew on and ?? tt on " An?! he pro ree.leal lo .?Miti; h'.w n ?t'a ti pin did duly for a button on hia trou? Mrs. Woodrow Writes of Self-Sacrificing Wife As Often Spoiling a Husband By MES WIL80N WOODROW r LOOK after our owl rea sibilili??? In thla worli la about a? much aa any of u? can do without going out or our way te shoulder tho?? which Justly belong ? ?? another. To attaunpt this I? to du th? other peraon a great wrong ? nd to lay up troubla In heap? for ouraalvea. ??.?, ?? a inter from a womto who ?.?? bound all of the family l-urden? on her own back, with the result that her husband I? a mer? ? polled, aelflah child growing ever mure and more unmindful of hla dutlM. "I am twenty live year? old and married," ?he writ??. 'I hav? thr?? children. My huaband le alz yeare older than myself and haa a good trade. "During the seven yeare that I have been married I have never had a new suit. Uri???, or winter coat Th? children and myaelf have been clothed In the caet-off gar? menta of my friends. "Yet my huaband Is big and strong, and the children and I have never cost him a cent In doctors' bill?. She Like? to Go For a Walk. "A few months ago I undertook tbe care of a houae which is rented In suite? of two rooms. I get one eulte rent-free and two dollars a week. One or two of these suites are vacant at present, and that means that I muat stay In during the day and try to rent them. "I have lota to do beaidea taking care of the children and my own home, but 1 do like to go out some times for a walk or to a little plo ture show aerosa the atreet Yet a? things are, this seem? out of th? question. "Don't you think I am entitled to one or two evening? a week 7 My huaband thinks not "During aeven years he has only taken the children and myself out twice. Yet, last winter, he him self stayed out three nights In suc cession, and spent all the money we needed to pay our bills. He always goes out about 9 o'clock in the morning on Sunday?, and never returns until midnight And he is always well dressed, and manages to get new aulta and shoes when ever he needs them. "Pleaae. Mrs. Woodrow. tell me If I am not entitled to at least one . v?-ning a week. I love my babies, but I feel that it Is good for both of us If now and then I can get out for a walk or go to a picture show by myself. Please let me hear from you, as I want to do what is right" It amarne to m? that, with th? ssst laUations In th? world to do what Is right, you hav? consistently do?? what is wrong. Instead of fostering a sana? of responsibility In your husband, ran hav? done your best to rail??? him of what Utile he had Whan you married. I suppose your under standing was that your husbausd waa to supply the money for tha upkeep of the household. You wert? to expend It wisely and wall, aad attend to all the dulia? of ?) horn?. GOTM Oulsldr Of < ?bllg. dot.? But you have gone outald? yotn obligations. You are not only do ing all the work of th? home; you ar? providing the home Itself, and your husband does not have to i?? a cent of rent for It. You are alai? supplying th? clothes for youra?lf and the children, another big it???? of expense lopped off from y*ur husband's earnings, and thus givi?)? him more to spend on himself. He has become so used to th?? arrangement and accepts It ao easily, that he feels ill-used ai.d provoked when you propos? taking an occasional walk, or spending an evening or so at th? picture?. It means that he would have to sts? at home with the children, and that i? really too much to ask. My opinion In your case, to quot? an old saying, Is that the gray mare is the better horse of the two. Tou have not trained your hus bai.d well. You should have re fused to accept the old cloth?? of your friends, since you say he could well afford to clothe you and the children. What la the result of your pot ting your shoulder to the wheel so manfully? It haan't made him long to do hia part and lighten some of your burdens; not at all. H? atays away three nights In succession, and uses all the money that should have been set aside for household bills. No cause for him to worry. He had the gam?, ai.d non? of the blame. He knew that the home you provided was there for him to come hack to. and that with your little earning? you would manage some how Why should you aver oonsult hia? about such trifles as taking walks or going to the picture?? Air aad change of ?cene, even If you only go to the next block, are Just aa necessary to your wellbelng aa food and clothes. And aa to the pictures? Surely, If any womit ever earned her right t? a little recreation, you have. When a Girl Marries A ROMANCE OF EARLY WEDDED LITE. Bv ANN LISLE. W??? ne*?.paper aerial? have wo? a big, popular ?uo.faa. CHAPTER CCIXVL VALERIE COSBY gilded noise lessly down the corridor and stopped at last at a do.tr which she opened silently. Then she turned with her finger on hei lips. "This Is my room." she whisper ed. "I came up to rest?I was feel ing?a little done up. I thought I'd get a breath of air, so I stepped out on this balcony. Come wltn me," and seising my arm, she drew me out after her. "And I found that it wasn't a mere balcony from my window, but a long gallery that runs around the house." With her hand on my wrist, Val pulled me down the gallery after her. At the end there was a sum mer house of two decks, built right Into the gallery, with stairs leading down from the upper to the lower floor. "Hush!" whispered Val. "I brought you hero to see the tricks that little Mason cat Is playing with your young brother, I thought you ought to know," ehe added, vir tuously, but in the moonlight I could ?ee her eyes flash aa they had when she turned from Mrs. Stoughton to Evvy an hour before. "My brother?" I questioned vaguely. "Why, I thought he'd - ? ,, gone Then I stopped. There was no earthly reason why Val shou' 1 know of Neat's packed suitcase nor yet of my nope that he had goae back to Phoebe. "He was hurrying down the pati, when I came out I saw Ewy Mason run down from the upper balcony here and drag him into the summer house down below. They're probably there now." At that I started toward th? ladder-like stairway, leading from one floor of the summer house to the other. What I intended to do if I found Evvy and Neal together I didn't know. Nor was there any reason why they shouldn't be to gether. But I felt that Neal need ed me?and I knew that Pheob? had never needed me more. I was going to flght for her hgpplnesa, even If I made an abject fool of myself in doing It Valerie caught my shoulder In her puffy whit? hands. Wei*?? from R-vT-y. "Hush! They'll hear you." she warned spitefully. "Hear me?" I echoed Impatiently "They're welcome. I'm no spy." At that a voice sailed: "Who's up on the balcony?" "It's Anne, Ewy," I replied to her breathless, husky syllables. "Mrs. Cosby and I came up to our rooms?to freshen up a bit. And here we are taking the air.** "Come town?both of you?and hear our new?," commanded Ewy with much sweetness. My heart contracted and my hands got cold. But I started down the steps. As I went I caught Val'a mocking eyes. They said aa plainly a? words: "We've muffed It! We're to late." In a moment I reached the ground floor of the little aummer house. I noticed the faint muaty smell of old wood even before I saw Kvvy standing close to Neal with her head on hi? heart and his arm? awkwardly around her. She ran from him to me and caught my handa In hers. "Oh. Anne!" ?he creled. "Ann?? you tell her, Neal." V'e?l looked up and beyond me to the'?tair?. where I perceived Val standing, a tell white figure In th? moonlight. And then he ?poke III a ?tilted votre that didn't sound ? berta*, ?mummy molti "Evvy ha? Just done me the hone to say ?he'll?marry me," A Bis JturprUe. I tightened my hands over ?? ? ; .? but 1 couldn't make a ?Ingle word come from my dry throat. NeaJ hadn't wanted this?I knew he hadn't. Wasn't hia suitcase packed? Haden't he been all ready to run away?to Phoebe? I started to ?hake Evvy's clinging hands off ann to demand an explanation of h o v. ?he had dragged him to th? summer-house and forced a pro posai from him. Even with Valeria Coeby there to witness the humilia tion and cheapness of it all, I war ready to make a scene. But Ew: forestalled me. "He was running away, the darl ing boy!" ?he cried, looking up in wide-eyed simplicity at Val "Packed and ready to go. I eat? him tip-toe Into my room with it note and then climb down here to get out the side entrance. And I followed him. You know it was my fault the canoe upset today but he risked his life to save aae. Then like the modest dear he Is, 1 ?? didn't want mc to think I owed I; to him to marry him after he'd saved me. I'm older than Neal? and richer?in experience and?and having thi? place; but no one?NO ONE?can ever call Neal a fortune hunter because I'm the lucky one He was running away and I mad? him stay." For a moment I was astounded I couldn't breathe to ?peak. "You're very wonderful," com mented Val dryly. "I congratul?t' you both. And I'm sure, Mis? Mason, that no one will ever dream of call ing Mr. Hyland a fortune-hunter." Aa she ?poke a look flashed be tween them. I knew Evvy wasn't done with Val. "Thank you for explaining to or Evvy." I ?aid, pulling myself to gether. "Your defense of Neal Is? kind. But you won't have to make It again. Everyone knows he'd onlv marry for the noblest motive. ? love Neal very dearly, Ewy, and I want him and the girl he I? golnp, to marry to be happy?wonderfully happy." Then I kissed her on the lips she turned up to me, and I caught ? ?* In my arm?, murmuring over him with Up? that longed to proiest "I'm going in to tell them all now," cried Evvy after a moment o?* two. "I want them all to know how happy we are. We ar? happy, ater't we, deareat?" N?al atoope'j and drew ??-y to ward him. Then he looked ???in d.fanMy at Val and me. "Ver? happy." h? aaid. "And to think I had to ?top my pi cud darling almost by for.-o f.'o.n ninn'ng away from me,' laufen *d Evv,? i.uti. .it Ntais eyes caught mine and ?ic.le them ur a second. He waj giving m<? a c mmand?of that I fell s.rc. But for the first time In my Ufa I didn't understand Neal. I could not get the message he was trying to send me. (T? Be ? o-lti-in?-? ? The Lacly's Bet. A young man took a lady ae quatntanc? to a steeplechase meet ing, and she Insisted on placing ? bet on a horse. The horse did worae than t.? come In laat. Ha turnad ai? und and ran the other way. 'Well, you lose your bet," aaid the man. "The horse you had your in.a-.cy on Is running the ? r mi. ?t ?it ;?' .. ?hows lhat a woman's Insttuo?, aaa'i go ??*****?.*' she nn?wrnK? tr' umphantly. "I backed hita bvtl*i