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FOTJIT Om THE BISMARCK TRIBUNE Ifetarad at th« Poatoffice, Bismarck, 'N. D., Second Class Matter GEORGE D. MANN "Editor G. LOGAN PAYNE COMPANY, Special Foreign Representative NKW YORK. Fifth Ave. Bldg. CHICAGO, Marquette Bldg. BOSTON, 3 Winter St. DETROIT, Kreaege Bldg. MINNEAPOLIS, 810 Lumber Exchange. MEMBER OF ASSOCIATED PRESS The Associated Press is exclusively entitled to the use fur republication of all news credited to it or not other wise credited in this paper and also the local newj pub lished herein. All rights of publication of special dispatches herein are also reserved. All rights of publication of special dispatches herein are also reserved. MEMBER AUDIT BUREAU OF CIRCULATION SUBSCRIPTION RATES PAYABLE IN ADVANCE Daily by carrier per year $6.00 Daily oy mail per year 4.00 Daily by mail per year (in state) 4.00 Daily by mail outside of North Dakota 6.00 SUBSCRIPTION RATES (In North Dakota) On* year by mail 94.00 Six months by mail 2.00 Three months by mail 1.00 (Outside of North Dakota) year $6.00 Six month* 2.50 Three months 1.25 City Carrier Service OM ywr $6.00 Six month* 8.00 llim month* l-j0 OM month 60 TBI STATE'S OLDEST NBW8PAPIR. (Established 1871) A HEALTH PROBLEM. The "diphtheria carrier" is one of the hardest problems with which health authorities have to cope. Many people feel that they are unjustly quaran tined because of the fact that they "feel entirely well." But as long as the bacteriological laboratory finds the germs of the disease in the secretion of their nose and throat the quarantine must remain in order that the public be protected. Knowing that the germs of diphtheria may be lurking in the saliva of a "perfectly well" person we can easily see how in the course of our every day life the germs are possed on to other folk. The street car conductor moistens his fingers the more easily to pass our transfers The girl on her way to the matinee touches the tip of her finger to her tongue the better to smooth on the fingers of her gloves. The moistened fingers of the peddler arrange his displays of fruit, the bookworm with moisten ed finger turns the pages of a book invthe public library. Everybody is busily engaged in this distribution of saliva so that the end of each day finds this secretion freely distributed to the doors, window sills, furniture and playthings in the home, the straps of trolley cars, the rails and counters and desks of shop and offices. HUN submarines are not sinking much, but HUN hopes are sinking a great deal. STORY ABOUT A HIRED GIRL. Some years ago, when the German chemists cooked up their monopoly in dyes, and other chem icals necessary to human happiness, and applied for foreign patents, they doubted the honesty of America, after the German habit, and, to prevent dishonest Americans from stealing their recipes, they filed fake specifications, with their applica tions for patents, with Uncle Sam. Sure enough, war came on, Uilcle refused to recognize the patents and his chemists went to trying out the recipes. Behold! in almost every case, it was found that some essential ingredient or indispensable step had been omitted from the recipes or formulae. The specifications were frauds, and the recipes wouldn't work. Fine Teu tonic cunning! But our Amreican chemists did not lie down and weep! they went to work to discover why the blamed recipes wouldn't work, and discovered why. Fine American grit! And then they took the HUN by the short hair by taking out domestic patents, the HUN having invalidated his patents by fraud, and, hereafter, if the HUN gets his dyes and such into this country he'll pay a nice royalty to American brains. It's a mighty fine in stance of boomerang, and although reminds us of a Story About a Hired Girl. Many years ago, but it seems and feels like last weeks, a trust was formed in a certain suburban community, back in Ohio. Tommy Wilson and Bobbie Smith were two-thirds of the trust and we the remainder. There were no Thrift Stamps in those days and so the trust put its first accumula tion of capital from mowing lawns, running er rands and swilling pigs into a large two-wheeled cart. Contemporaneously with the trust's possession of that cart, mother possessed a hired girl, a bux om Swede named Katura Janssen. You might forget your first wife, or grandmother, or pay day, but never Katura, having once'met her. Ka tura was the embodiment of emotion. She'd laugh at anything, or cry at nothing, easily, and, as when in her flood of tears she was a composite picture of the Horse Shoe Falls and the emptying of a tub of wash suds, the trust preferred Katura at flood tide. Well, in the gloaming, one day, the trust found Katura resing on the kitchen steps and coaxed her into taking a .ride in that cart. She laughed like a horse with oat straws in its nostrils, called us boys her "deer leedle ponies" and enjoyed her self greatly until ..we—no, the trust—reached the top of, th»f.hfli let go the cart handles. Then Katura scoofed. Half-way down you could fairly hear Katura's tears fall, pira^ihe titoU daheed on its six 'legs swung its hats arid cheered her on from the top of the hill. Gosh! but that was a live trust for the pro motion of fun! But, glancing two-thirds way down the narrow hillside roadway, the trust perceived that father was returning from his daily office toil. On one side father bore groceries, meat and vegetables, worsted and hairpains for mother, rolls of music for Sister Ella, etc., etc., on the other side of these long-handled wooden garden rakes. (The trust found four eggplants and two pounds of tomatoes in the adjoining bushes, next day.) Darned if the fun didn't ooze out of our third of that trust right then. For a brief second father and Katura com mingled, all miscellaneous and sudden, and for the rest of the way down the |hill their best friends couldn't tell which part was father, which hired girl, which cart or which rake. There was, to be sure, one brief flash of joy when father got upon his feet, with the aid of undiluted blasphemy, but the rake handle swiped him at the ankles and he continued. "Boys will be boys," said mother, later on and she liked both father and Katura, too. But "fath ers will be fathers," replied father, and after his demonstration of it, in the wood-shed, where some blamed "fool had just delivered a load of lath, we never saw any good in trusts. We hope we will not grieve those smart Aleck Hun chemists by adding this moral: A boomerang tastes a lot better when outward bound than when coming back. A scarcity in English clergymen necessitaties fewer Sunday sermons. A lot of male perons will miss their customary Sabbath morning snooze. Packers and millers are biggest profiters, says treasury report, which is how they are helping —the HUNS! WITH THE EDITORS THE NEW DRAFT LAW. The age limit in the new draft law will be 18 to 45. The bill passed the House that way Saturday and the indications are that it will go through the Senate without change. This is the administration bill, nearly three months late, but credit for the delay is freely ac corded in Washington to the Secretary of War who has lagged behind the procession in all war preparations instead of befog ahead leading the sentiment and atousing the enthusiasm of the country. Amendments to the bill limiting the draft to men 20 years of age or older and to those 19 or over were vigorously supported, also amendments to put the men of 18 and 19 in deferred classes, but they were voted down and the administration measure passed with only two dissenting votes— one an Ohio Democrat and the other the New* York Socialist who always puts the Socialist party on record as friendly to the Beast of Berlin. The War Department has indicated that, al though empowered by the bill to include men down to 18 ,as it desired to be, it may, after registration, issue its draft calls so as to call the available men first. But this bill is supposed to produce the three and a half million who ten months from now are to make up, with those already over there, our proposed army of five million in foreign service. That is going to mean intensive work in prepara tion and, unless the period from 31 to 45 produces soldiers more numerously than it is expected tp, the call for men below 20 will not be deferred long. Nor, indeed, should it be! for after single men and others above 31, having no dependents, have been called, upon whom should the country rely for this service rather than those completing their 19th, 20th or 21st year, having no one dependent on them for support? Of such were the armies of, the Union and the Confederacy chiefly com posed. Among the advocates of 18-year age limit are several members of the Senate who joined one army or the other "in the sixties'" about the age of 18 or younger, including our own senior Senator who shouldered a musket on the Union side when only a little over 18. That the government does not, however, intend to call the youngest registrants into training camps first is further evidenced by the provisions made by which students of draft age may be given in the schools and colleges military instruction without taking them away immediately from their regular work. One of the most impressive and most reassuring facts in connection with the war is the splendid spirit in which the principle of selective conscrip tion has been received by the people of this repub lic. It evidences a high quality of citizenship, a degree of loyalty to the principles of our govern ment and a spirit of willing self-sacrifice for the welfare of others as well as ourselves that, before the testcame, we would have hardly dared to as sume. But the absolute fairness of the rule laid down and the almost perfect impartiality by which it has been applied by a lot of men, who are not getting due credit for their work on the regis tration boards, satisfies the universal instinct for fair play. Even if we could have raised an army without resorting to the selective draft we would not have been as well off. "Sharing one another's burdens," or the common burden, is begetting within ourselves as a people more than we had ber fore of that for which we are fightnjyg—the^pirit of true democracy. The volunteer systfefti would have accomplished comparatively little in that re spect—Minneapolis Tribune. BISMARCK DAILY TB1BUNB taries hospital with wounds received* while helping men in battle, trenches with smokes and eats (or the hoys. By CLARENCE BUDDlXiTOX JiKL LAND. They were coming back out of the hot blast of the great battle—those boys of a certain division now famous The boy shrugged his shoulders, ac tually shrugged1 them as well as he could, bundled up in that stretcher, and grinned wanly. "Comin* fine if I can get you fellers to save that foot. She's smashed plenty. If you can't—all the same." "We'll run you right in." "Nix, bo, not \me. I'm gettin' past all right, nothin' but my foot. You jest lemme be here and git busy with them guys that's hurt. I'm on the waitin' list." Here Aire Men." That was one boy.: He belonged to an outfit that bears a name-far and wide for Being boiled hard.- Tough birds, you hear them called, rough talking boys with the crust outermost. If you had seen them a month before or two months before, when thty had not had their purifying in bl6od and fire, you would not have prophesied that they would/hold back ihisuffering to wait for one in greater suffering to be cared for first It was, an at tribute that was not apparent to the casual eye. Hard-boiled, you would have agreed, and ,you might have felt a trifle sorry, for the enem ythat had to encounter them. But you would not have sootd by with tears.in your eyes—not in your eyes, but rolling down your cheeks—and have muttered again and again, "Here are men!" But now they had felt the scorching breath of war. Suddenly they had been dropped into the furnace and had come out with dross burned away. Something had happened. They were still hard-boiled. Their language was made up of the same words, but the words had taken'"on a new'meaning, their very faces had taken on a new aspect. In spite of blood and grime, and the discoloration and burn of gas, you could see that something was present there which hatf'beeij absent before—until you could notjsee at all for the flooding of your eye?, "I got mine No dlfc—sport Can't do^nothin' ^or—me Git—busy with, aom^pf them boys—you kin—help." Think of the Other. That was the spirit. That %as .the thing that bad- b&tfsbrirtteff'fntp their souls by the hot breiath of war. They had forgotten themselves. Jim was not thinking of Jim. but of Alike, Alike was not thinking of Mike, butof Jack. Each passed it on. The dressing station was small jtnd many must lie outside until the men who were taken in first could be evac uated. You heard groans, but amid I the groans you heard cheery, gritty, words. "Oow, that damn leg throughout France and one day to be',How's Charlie makin' it? Anybody famous throughout the world. They|jLnow? I seen him git it were not coming back because they had had enough of it they were bet-1 "They just took Charlie in. He ing brought on stretchers, wounded, wasn't sayin'much gassed, shell-shocked, to an' advanced dressing station. Spn^ seemed just boys. One could se^ iliem grit their teeth to hold*back the moan of pain "Hard luck, pal?" said a doctor in terrogatively, as the bearers set down a stretcher in the courtyard. Say, them stretcher bearers ought to git the Croy de Gerr, them birds ought, to. See 'em fetch me back .with them shells bustin' like it was rainin'? And would they hurry? Not a damn bit.. I hollers to ttiem to git a move on or they'd git busted one on the dome, but that little shrimp says for me to mind my own busi ness, he was carryin'. that stretcher (1) Alfred Stckes, Y. M. €. Aw passing out smokes to wounded at advanced dressing station. Stokes standing with pouch. (2) Y. M. C. A. secre (H have_ carried their supplies five niiles through communlctttMn trenches to distribute them at front. The man standing is Earl Balleu, now in Afraid if he hustled he'd shake me up and hurt me some. Can you beat that? Oow!" "Two pf them stretcher bearers were Y. M. C. A. guys. What they doin' in that game?" 1 Men Aid. "Volunteered, one of them told me, I asked him. He's been workin' up in that dressin' station right where she's happenin' ever since this busted out. I seen him there. Hain't had his clothes off for a week. Looks to me like he's about ready to crack. But he's always there with a cigarette or a cupful of coffee, or a cake of choco late. Now he's totin' stretcher Needs a stretcher himself, seems as ,though." "You're next, soil," said a lieuten ant doctor. "Wl^ere'd you get it?" "Leg and a chunk somewhere in the chest." "Out of luck." "Out of luck nothin'. Didn't I bay onet three of them Germans before they got me? Eh? Luck." The story goes that this division was called upon to stop the rush of five times its number. The storyg oes farther and says they not only stopped the rush but caused a movement in the other direction. It was not -an affair of hours but of days, days of constant, bitter, hand-to-hand fighting with horrors added by the Hun that no American soldier has ever been called upon to face. But they had dammed the flood had even swept it back for a little, and they were proud. Kpr.it of Altruism But their achievement 011 the field was not the great thing that came into view in those days.. It was the spirit that flamed up in their hearts —not merel ya spirit of courage, of daring, of heroism against odds, but a spirit faltruism, of love for the other fellow. Somewhere in that holo ASTHMABGR AVE (3) Clarence B. Kellaml, American novelist, now Red Triangle worker, in frontline caust those hard-boiled boys had got ten it, and the manifestations .of it that night in the little courtyard be fore the dressing station made he spot one never to be forgotten by those who witnessed it." A hurry call was sent to the dis tant Y. M. C. A. "Can't you do, something for these boys that are being brought in here?" the officer in charge demanded. "What can we do?" "Something to eat and smokes. Cof fee. A bite and a smoke do a wounded man more good than anything else. Do you know, some of those boys have been out there in that for two days with nothing to eat but hard tack!" So the sent its men and its trucks and made coffee it brought such fruit as it could it carried chocolate bars. "Here you are*, sport," said one of them, coming into the courtyard. "Here's a cup afv chocolate." The boy raised himself painfully on his elbow and reached for the cup— then he motioned it away. "I hain't hurt much—and there's a lot of guys here that's messed bad. You haint' got enough to go around. Git busy." 1 "I've got smokes and hot chocolate for every man. Go ahead." "Honest? I won't be robbin' none of them birds?" "Honest." Boy Is Transformed The boy drank—and was trans formed. He lay back with a cigarette between his lips, with his eyes closed, and the expression 011 his dirty face was such a reward as few men ever earn. "That's livin'," he said softly. One boy was brought in with a broken leg. It had been an accident and not a wound won in battle. He had gotten in the way of a motor truck. "Jest fix me up out here what you can," he said. "You get to the hospital, son." "Nix. HispitaJ's for those fellows that's hurt. I just got a busted pin. You fix me here and leave me here When you get a chance." Somewhere, some time, they had all gotten this thing. It had come to them out of the flame and crash of battle it had been carried to them 011 clouds of searing, noxious gas it had awak ened in them through suffering and through the sight of suffering. They were the same, yet they were not the same. They were not gentle, yet one More Than Game "We've to haafti^ new worgjjify the language," said :afc&ptain surgeon. "Game wont' do. These boys are something more than game. I've jjnev- iAfi. SATURDAY, AUGUST 31,1918 LICE. fering and the scenes of bloodshed, wiped his eyes. "They're—why, damn it all, they're something! Nobody was ever like them!" One man lay inside on a mattress 011 the floor. His chest was rising and falling as he struggled for breath. "He's on his way," said the doctor to a man Avho was acting as orderly, nurse, assistant, anything. The man went over and touched the boy's forehead. "How about it, old man?" he said. "Kind of—lonesome May be you—could sit—here till—" The mail sat down and a hand struggled toward him. He took it and held it in his own, and he whispered to the boy a moment. Maybe it was a prayer. Whatever the words, it wa& a prayer. The wounded man lay still, his hand in the hand of the friend who had come to him in his last dark moment—his last glorious moment. He was giving his utmost for his coun try. The man sat still until the hand grew limp and lifeless in his own. and then he moved away to oth er errands, for it was a night demand ing much of men. The courage of the battlefield seems to be a common commodity but the courage to bear, pain without flinch ing to realize the approach of death without crying out to reach a mo ment when you know you must face life maimed, without arm, leg, eye— and not to curse with blank rage or cry out with despair—that it another kind of courage. But it was there. Not one man had it, but it seeemed as if al lthose wounded had it—it was not the gameness of the bulldog. It was something that had to do with the soul. It wa$ greatness, it was fineness, it was a thing that compell ed the watcher to uncover his head and stand bared in its presence^ They were Americans. Perhaps it was their birthright. More likely it was a new thing newly born of the day and the business of the day. Whatever it was, whenever and how ever it came, it was present. This has been written with repression, with a striving for understatement, with a wish to tell the truth. The thing was there. They brought it back with them. "How are you making it, sport? Here's a cup of coffee." "You come around to me aftetr yon have given some to the boys over there. They need it." That is what was there. It has reffd something new into the meaning of the words American soldier. As the fancied he could detect a gentleness, doctor said, some new word must be in their voices. But out of the battle and the suffering, something better than they had ever known came to them. There was utter ignoring of self, and it was a thing wonderful to "witness. coined to designate it. of battle and agony. It was born •W Pint Arena* Hortft, HlnneipalU, Minn. MORSE WIRELESS Write tor our booklet sho,wln« iptendfd Idran tagel and bfi-saldttfer telegrapher*. The Oov- er!f iy thousands of: women In Jta.Ma- graph service.