Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume], April 27, 1916, Image 6

About Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916

Image provided by: State Historical Society of Iowa

                
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He didn't say anything but just
patched his mamma rolling out the
psruit, or whatever it is they make
gtoft biscuits of, and pretty soon Mrs.
Sg noticed that Buddy didn't seem
§.Very happy. His face was all twist
|#d up into a funny sort of a scowl,
land •very once in a while he would
igive a long sigh, as though he hadn't
friend In all the world.
"Why, Buddy," Mrs. Pigg asked
ilrhen the tea biscuits were ready for
lie over, "whatever in the wide, wide
arid Is the matter? Are you sick,
jr did you burn youhself with a Are
icker?"
"No, mother," Buddy answered,
I'm not sick and I didn't burn my
slf with a firecracker, but I wish—I
rlsh—" and then he stopped and sort
»f wiggled his nose.
"Well,'' asked liis mother with a
Bixille, "what do you wish? Remem-
Br, though, that I am not a fairy and
at give you anything you want."
"Oh," answered the little boy
llnea pig, "this is very easy, mam
as. All I want is a tail."
'A tail?" exclaimed his mamma in
it pur prise, and she wondered if,
ter all, Buddy wasn't ill
r%8 a very strange request.
we
s$Wow have tails and so have Billie
tand Johnnie Bushytail and the three
jWibblewobbles, and—"
"But Bully and Bawly, the frogs,
*ihave no tall," said Mrs. Pigg, "and
(they are happy, Buddy."
%i "Well, they are in the water so
ijnuch It doesn't show whether they
lliave a tall or not," went on Buddy.
j: "And Sammie and Susie Littletail
i^fhaven't much of a tail, Buddy," said
/Mrs. Pigg, as she looked in the oven
"•jto see if the biscuits were burning,
fi "I know it. mother, but they have
something of a tail," spoke Buddy,
"and maybe it will grow longer in
•iv
SPALTI LOSES HIS
CASE AGAINST CITY
Avoca, April 25.—The case of Joshua
j& H. Spalti vs. J. L. Caldwell et al, in
"which an injunction was asked to re
strain the town of Oakland from pro
ceeding with the paving contract, came
on for hearing in the district court at
Avoca, Judge E. B. Woodruff being on
the bench. Judgment was rendered in
favor of the defendants, the court
denying th£ claim that insufficient no
Itiiice had been given by the city.
MISSISSIPPI RIVER
IS TURNING TRAITOR
ip¥ Davenport, April 25. —The Missis
Sippi river, which has for years been
-1" yielding a fertile harvest to the clam
manufacturers is now turning traitor
^to the Industry which is fostered. So
'r high has the water stage been for the
past two seasons that it has been diffi
cult to harvest the mussels.
First grade shells are now bringing
from $30 to $32 per ton, a price which
^•ry^.-rv-'.+rpVH wt
Wow, WJOU/,
POP —DOVI'T ARGUE.
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A ir f—WH*T REi
COCOMtJCn V\.f\ViT xl^00 TAUrftM*-
I ft AWTCD "TVte senosjV ABoor—TtWi
I OVtiHTCH KVIOV/I (J^' mr^y
FETEY DINK A ROSE BUSH IS SOMETHING ELSE AGAIN
VfCBD. THAT'S
VlMAt TWlAT
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^Children's Evening Story
Buddy Wflfl Want* a Tail.
The day after the Fourth of July,
rhen he and his sister had had such
Buddy Plgg came into the pen
Writer* his mamma was baking tea
Iklieulti for supper and sat down in
chair by the table where she was
rorklng.
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He stayed
All the other boys and girls could hear voices inside, talking and
land sakes, goodness me alive and a
cherry pie! out of that hole was thrust
friends of mine have them,
I don't see why I can't."
For you Bee guinea pigs never have a great big bushy tail
lis. Why that is I don't know, ex
jfecept, maybe, it's better that way in
J»ot weather, but, anyhow, they have
»o tails.
"You don't need a tail," said Bud
ty'B mamma.
"Yes, I do, mother dear," he an-
H-tinae. I'd be glad if I had even as
#iuch as Sammie has."
"Wfell," said Mrs. Pigg, "I'm sorry,
Wk (Buddy, but I don't see how you are
31''ever going to get a tail. I haven't
any, your father hasn't any, and we after that Buddy never wanted a tail,
get along very well. None of your Now if it doesn't rain in the dishpan
relations have tails and they are and turn the umbrella inside out, I'll
happy. They never had any. In fact tell you in the next story about Buddy
there has never been a tail in our walking a tight rope.
I I
family and I don't see why you want
to start. Now run out and play, like
a good boy. and when Brighteyes
comes back it will be supper time, and
we'll have hot biscuits and honey."
Pretty soon, oh, I guess in about a
whisper and a squeak, Buddy Pigg
heard a rustling in the tree over his
head. Then he saw two, big yellow
eyes peering down at him from the
darkness of the woods and a voice call
ed out:
"What's the matter, little boy? Why
are you so sad?"
"Oh, I feel bad because I haven't a
tail," answered Buddy wondering who
was speaking.
"What's the matter? Did some one
cut your tail off?" the voice asked.
"No," replied Buddy, "I never had
one: but I want one, awfully bad."
"Oh, don't worry about a little thing
like that," went on the voice. "I can
get a fine tail for you."
"Oh, can you?" cried Buddy, his face
lighting up, "are you a fairy?"
"Well not exactly." was the answer,
but you just run along after me, and
time."
Then there was a rustling in the?
branches and a great big owl, with
ears that looked like horns, flew out,
and Buddy was flightened. But the
owl said:
"Oh, don't be alarmed little boy. Just
follow me and I'll see that you get a
tall."
So the owl flew along through the
for that dark, dismal woods, going slowly and
And she close to the ground so Buddy could fol-
egan to wish that his papa was low and pretty soon the owl stopped in
home, or that Brighteyes, who was front of a hole in the side of a hill.
iBuddy's sister, was in the house to "There is where the tail is," said the
look after him, but Brighteyes owl. "Just wait and I'll have it out to
^pad gone to see her aunt, and you in a jiffy and a half," and bless
Vouldn't be 'back till night. roe, if that owl didn't go in that hole.
*'Yes," went on Buddy, "I want a
there some time and Buddy
v«Hr?, THAT'S
AUMCC
A tail and noth­
ing else, believe me. if you please.
"Oh, what a fine tail!" cried Buddy
in delight.
"Do you think so?" asked a voice.
"Then just grab hold of it, hold tight
and it's yours!"
Well, Buddy didn't think there was
any danger, so he grabbed hold of the
tail and held on tight, but oh, dear me
instead of pulling the tall out, he found
himself being pulled in. Yes, sir, right
into that hole and land knows what
would have happened if Buddy's sister,
Brighteyes, hadn't come along jusl
then on her way home from her aunt's
house. She saw right away that the
bushy tail was fast to something inside
the hole.
"That's a fox's tail!" she cried, "ana
he's pulling you into his den! Let go,
quicklv! Let go, Buddy!"
So Buddy let go just in time, though
the fox and the owl rushed out and
tried to grab him, but they fell down
and couldn't get up in time and he and
his sister ran home. You see it was
just a trick of that owl and fox. to get
Buddy into the den, and eat him up,
but they didn't, I'm gla-1 to say. And
is regarded as prohibitive by the but
ton manufacturers of Davenport and
Muscatine. It is predicted that a com
parative high 6taee in the Mississippi
this vear will bring the price up to
$35 at least. This is a figure that has
not been reached in years.
Davenport manufacturers are now in
the market for from $65,000 to $75,000
worth of shells this season. The ton
nage on this order would be approxi
mately 2,500. Two years ago the in
dustry received a severe setback
through the outbreak of the present
European war.
SCHROEDER DENIES
HE IS SHOT AS SPY
Des Moines, April 25.—Not only is
Charles Schroeder reported to have
been executed in Canada as a German
spy, alive, but he'd rather live in Can
ada than in the United States.
So Schoeder says in a statement
received by Frank H. Hewitt, Cana
dian government agent here.
Reports that Schroeder had been
shot came from Denison, where he
once lived.
Kl0*!i1'^
in
I'll get a tail for you in less than no Jessica came to stay with us. he had
matters his own way in an argument
down in the dining room. The rest of
us were too hungry and weary to com
bat world peace or anything else.
THE MORALE OF LORD OLLIE.
By Izola Forrester.
(Copyright, 1916, by the McClure
Newspaper Syndicate.)
We have been accustomed to hear
Ollie speak of the .Countess in, well,
not exactly friendly or comradely or
familiar terms, but as if he knew her
pretty well. For instance, he would
say when the mail was brought in:
"Another letter from the Countess.
Now, I'll get it for not writing." Quite
as if it mattered to the Countess
whether he wrote or not. I think we
all vaguely resented his tone for her
sake, even while we knew aboslutely
nothing about her.
He had come to the old fashioned
boarding house on West Fifty-fifth
street in the summer time. From his
tone and words we gathered that he
was a man of peace and would not go
to war, that the Countess disapproved
of his sentiments, and that his elder
brother was fighting somewhere in
France.
He was a slim, dark, nice sort of
chap, with big, speculative, humorous
blue eyes behind eyeglasses. Until
But Jessica was different. Fresh
from the west she was, and thoroughly
prepared for war at any moment. She
was in the nurses' training school,
waiting for her chance to go abroad in
Red Cross work. Not that she approv
ed of war, but she did believe in the
nations who were big enough to see
the vision of the future combining and
forcing disarmament on the bar
barian ones, as she called them.
Ollie was all for social evolution,
and the two of them would sit and let
their dinners grow cold while they
thrashed the wars of the nations over
and over again. His name, by the way
was Oliver Grovesnor. Sometimes his
mail came to Mr. Oliver Grovesnor and
sometimes to Lord Oliver Francis Gro
vesnor, but we called him Ollie.
A boarding home is a curious com
monwealth. To save your life you
can't help knowing every other body's
business. We used to run across the
two of them sitting out on the little
green wooden bench in the bit of front
vard talking after dinner, finishing up
their argument. And sometimes, in
order to cool off, they would have to
stroll up to Columbus circle, and over
into the park, where spring was danc
ing with fauns and dryads. We could
see plainly the way they were wend
ing, just into the same old path of
romance all youth treads some time.
Then came another letter from the
Countess, the first one since Jessica
had come to stay. Oliver found it un
der his napkin as usual, glanced at it
whimsically, said it was another letter
from the Countess and that he'd get it
for not writing.
And Jessica, being a woman, prompt
ly asked who the Countess was.
Whereupon Ollie answered simply:
"My mother."
She eyed him from a different aspect
from that moment. At first, with sus
picion as if he might be poking fun at
her. You see, Jessica came from a
small town in South Dakota and she
was twenty-one. She had always had
to work for her living ever since she
could remember. There were five
youngsters entered in the family bible
after her own name, and the last one
had been the end o? her mother. After
that, it had always been work for her.
Now, with most of them half grown,
she had slipped away to follow her
own star even to the battlefields and
try to realize some of life's tumult and
mystery.
Oddly enough, the Countess seemed
part of what she was seeking. But
she wondered, just as we all had, if
Ollie were telling the truth. We had
been content to let the matter rest
where it was, afraid Ollie's pleasant
myth might vanish if the searchlight
of truth ever lit it up.
Jessica watied until she had him to
herself on the green garden bench.
There was a moon looking very pale
and wan. illusive enough to please all
fond lovers. Only Jessica was not in
a loving mood. She was, as usual,
combative and pernickety as it were,
and she approached the subject of
Ollie's connection with the English
nobility without fear or compromise.
"Is the Countess really your
mother?"
"So I have always been told," re
plied Ollie, gazing from the inade
quate moon to the glamour of the elee-
imp
11|»
$
VLAIVJ
iji iin ji|7ip'iiiiiii»p|gp'
OTTUMWA COURIER. THURSDAY, APRIL 27, 1916
The Courier's Magazine and Home Page
fi
Would you Dance or Run?
trie signs Tisible in the direction of
Broadway.
"Countess .what?"
"Countess of Walsingham. Her
name though, is Margaret, Margaret
Olivia."
Countess looked him over thought
fully from this new angle. He was
slender and rather stooped shouldered
when he sat down in hours of ease.
She tried to find fault with his chin.
If only it had receded ever so little, she
might have excused him, but, as it
was, nothing external gave him away.
He really looked as if he might be the
son of Margaret Olivia, countess of
Walsingham.
"I blame you more than ever," she
said briefly and trensely. "Since you
do happen to be born in this particu
lar age and in a certain cla?s, you owe
it to your times, the spirit of your
times, to stand for the morale of that
class."
"Rot," said Ollie, and he opened the
last letter from the Countess. She
was silent as he read it. It was rather
quiet even on the street, iust the hour
between dining and pleasuring forth
when New York rests and catches its
breath. Presently he spoke in a curi
ous voice, a sort of baffled voice, as if
fate had handed him a foul.
"By Jove!" he said. "Poor old
Bert!"
For a minute, Jessica didn't get the
portent of his words, he had spoken
so quietly, but she turned her head
and saw his face, suddenly sharp and
a bit white in the half light.
"Who is he?"
Ollie stoop up.
"I'm going back. She wants me to.
My brother's dead.''
And this is the strange part. As
he stood there looking down in her
face, suddenly all the little foolish con
ventionalities of everyday life dropped
from them. There was no thought of
anything they argued or fought over,
ethics and social theories—all were
gone leaving only the man and woman
with the man facing possible death.
"You're going over there to fight?"
she asked.
"Of course. Bert died somewhere in
France. It isn't so much the war, you
understand." His hands clenched at
his sides. "It's what they-ve done to
him. I want to go and just give it to
them for his sake, and my mother ex
pects me to."
"I'm sailing on the 10th," Jessica
spoke eagerly. "I didn't want to tell
you because you had a way of taking
all the spirit out of it for me, and I
wanted to go the other way—believ
ing in it, I mean."
"We'll sail together,"^ he told her.
mmmwirnmrn
JlMMtUCIPlES
FATHER, DOU'T
Ttexu MC
6DfkSS
Kklow
COURIER'S DRAWING PUZZLE
COMPLETE THE PICTURE BY DRAWING A LINE THROUGH THE DOTS.
BEGIN AT NO. 1 AND TAKE THEM NUMERICALLY.
"You sjtfd once that I had no morale.,porches. •,
loowry
46 41
Maybe I haven't. I don't like the mess
over there, and I don't believe in war,
but when the wolf climbs over the
sheep shelter, one grabs a gun, I
guess."
And then he looked down at her
and said in that pimple, square, nice
way of his we all liked, as if it settled
the whole thing between them. "The
Countess will think you're an awfully
plucky girl."
And the next morning they sailed,
married sure and fast. Somehow,
they seemed to take a little of the
springtime with them, perhaps into th«
life of the Countess.
ELECT CARPENTER
MOST LOYAL GANDER
Des Moines, April 25.—John D. Car
penter of Des Moines, well known fire
insurance field man, was elected most
loyal gander of the Iowa Pond of the
Blue Goose at the annual meeting at
the Chamber of Commerce. He suc
ceeds J. C. Bauch, who retires after a
very successful administration. Other
officials chosen were: Supervisor of
the flock, W. M. Palmer, custodian of
the goslings, George W. Holton guar
dian of the pond, J. C. Bauch keeper
of the golden goose egg, B. T. Hough
wielder of the goose quill, L. A. Rie
mann guards, C. R. Tyrell, C. D.
WadBworth, C. T. Millard, Ralph Mack
intosh, W. C. Jarnagin, E. A. Henne
delegates to the meeting of the grand
nest. J. D. Carpenter, for two year
term, with G. W. Holton alternate
Roger Swire of Iowa City, delegate for
one year, with Verne Myers of Water
loo, alternate.
Elaborate plans for the midsummer
outing at Lake Okoboji July 12, 14 and
15 were made and a half dozen gos
lings were splashed. The Blue Goose
is a secret organization.
PEOPLE APPEAL TO
STOP VANDALISM
Keokuk, April 25. —Keokuk people
are appealing to the police department
to put an end to a wave of vandalism
which seems to be sweeping the city.
It started when basketball goal posts
in one of the school yards were chop
ped down. Later a gang broke into
one of the school buildings and scat
tered books.
Now they have mutilated and carried
off thejOrnamental lions' heads on the
Blrge fountain in Rand park and the
latest thing is a theft of thermometers
TH/CT
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v. v. .• \. •...•• -v.,l,
MTTUE
BUSH
PUT
(M NesTtUOAN IS
PON» VCRV
kjwrcLV.
I
ktNT
poms
"WHAT HAS keeping a diary to do
with beauty?" someone will probably
ask, when she reads this headline.
It has this much to do with it—that
If you sit quietly (or a few msments
each day, writing rut the events of
the day, with your ewn thoughts and
reflections on them, if you take the
time each day to write seme one
thought, some beautiful thought, as
beautifully expressed as you cpn make
it—it will reaot upen year Hind, and
as your faoe is the outward sgrjnbol
of yeur mind, it will Ineirttawr beau
tify that
Isnt that logical feestdes,
there Is the
Talus
of the few moments
of relaxation as yen sit at yeur desk.
And there is the value gaiped la in
creased* l^Mey of expression. Few
people, aside from these whe make
a professfe* ef writing, express
themselves ea paper frequently
enoufk to gaja much ease and speed.
I knew ese weman in New York, a
lecturer, suffragist and lawyer, a
young and beautiful woman, tal
ented in many wayB, who takes two
hours to writs three hundred words
for publication. Yet she can make
an tfltjtemforaneous speech that Is a
mttffel et elcaraees and logic.
ftftye UrtieteVtr event has struck
you as the pleasantest or prettiest
of the day, think of it as you sit
quietly sowing, whether It is the
bright remark the baby made, the
kind act at some friend, or even
something yea have read—and record
this as well as you can. Or, take
some faney that comes into your
head, aad writs' tt out In story form
—this may be more appealing to you
thaa taking the events and com
menting. upon them.
I thfflk TP* will oaJejr-fhis diary—
and 1 kneijr, If you keep it properly,
ye« will ipd It a mental stimulus,
and therefore a physical beautlfler.
Questions aad Answers
Can
vow
Keeping A Diary
give me wm* simple ex»ret»«w
SfcTi correct my tendency to ttoopf—
Jtepbf—Stand fadng a corner, end place
the baada, shoulder high, against the 'wo
My sister Gladdis gave a party in our
parler, dansing to the fonograft and
everything and after a wile the bell
rang, and it was Miss Evins with a lit
tle man with a little mushtash and her
and Gladdis kissed eetch uther and sed
they hadent saw eetch uthir for a week
and then Miss Evins sed. And Gladdis
I wunt to present Mr. Buzby to you, Mr.
Buzy, Miss Potts.
Deelited, Im sure, sed Gladdis.
Ive herd so mutch about you, sed Mr.
Buzby.
Mr. Buzby is a writer, sed Miss
Evins.
O how intristing, how exsiteing, how
fascinating, sed Gladdis, Ive always
wunted to meet a ree* live writer, how
luvly.
You flatter me, sed Mr. Buzby.
Not in the least, sed Gladdis and do
you write every day?
[Protected by The Adams N'ewspaper Serried
Pracktically, pracktically, sed Mr.
Buby.
Just think, sed Gladdis, but dont you
ever haff to wate for an inspiration, I
FINAL CONTEST IS
TO BE ON MAY 5
Fairfield, April 25.—On Friday even
ing, May 5. the final contest of the
Interstate Oratorical association will
be held in Barhydt chapel. Parsons
college, here. This association in
cludes twelve states and about 120
colleges and universities. Each of the
six orators will have been in at least
three elimination contests before this
one. This is. the strongest Interstate
Oratorical association in the middle
west and the contest will be a high
class one.
.-./v.:-\r
Tfce Love
H\KC., POf!
ILSTCKI TO
During your hours of quiet work
think of beautiful thoughts to writs
in your diary
shoulders upward, while swaying for
ward. Repeat tsn times. Take the exer
cise night and morning.
My naiU are to brittle that they are
constantly broken off till people tMnk that
1 cite them. What will help themf—
Sylvia.
Reply—Soften thorn by rubb'.ng plenty
of cream or any good oil into them daily,
or oftener. Manicuring them will also
help them, as It keeps the skin from
growing over the nail aad impeding tha
circulation.
I E E N N S N O E O O
BY LEE PAPE
". .•.•••
BY C. A. VOIGH"
FOR
AS0V4
1
WOO t?E
3TOST UKE.
NQWR MoTHEft
NAIU2
STOBSOKU
A Hole!
walla. Without raising th« fact from die
floor, away tha body as far aa poasibl%
making an arch of tha body, wbila appar
ently Intending to touch the corner with
tba chest. Keep the head high, and lift
thawt all writers had to wate for in
spirations.
Well, of corse I wate for a serten'
length of titae anil if it dont come then
I go ahed without it, sed Mr. Buzby.
How fascinating,, sed Gladdis. O, 1
wunder. if ive ever red anything you
have ritten, because I reed all the time
Im pracktically always reeding.
You must of, surely, sed Mr. Buzby.
O do you think so, tell me sumthing
youve done, sed Gladdis.
Well sed Mr. Buzby, perhaps you re
member seeing a line in the advertize
ments for neverrip hosiery, You may
tramp, you may run, till the lawng day
is done, and your neverrip stockings.
are holeless.
But wats that got to do with it, sed
Gladdis.
Wy, hes an avvertizement writer,
silly, sed Miss Evins.
O, surely, how intristing, now you.
must take your things off and meet the
rest of the peeple, sed Gladdis. Wich,
Miss Evins and the little man with the
little mustash did.
PERMANENT ROAD
WORK GUARANTEED
Densison, April 25.—The board of
supervisors of this county has let con
tracts for permanent road work
amounting to about $30,000. This will
move 144.372 yards of earth and add
fourteen miles of permanent road to
the county system.. Last year fifteen
miles of such road was made. The
county receives $20,000 from its share
of the automobile tax. The board has
also let bridge contracts amounting to
$47,000 and the county is pushing
ahfe^d. for good roads with vigor.
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