OCR Interpretation


American Falls press. [volume] (American Falls, Idaho) 1907-1937, January 24, 1919, Image 2

Image and text provided by Idaho State Historical Society

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn86063041/1919-01-24/ed-1/seq-2/

What is OCR?


Thumbnail for

THE LIGHT
IN THE CLEARING"
*
A TALE OF THE NORTH COUNTRY
IN THE TIME OF SILAS WRIGHT
3 /
IRVING BACHELLER
Author or
EBEN HOLDEN. D'RI AND I. DARREL OP THE BLESSED ISLES,
KEEPING UP WITH LIZZIE, ETC, ETC
COrrUOMT HINTTHS OVtMTItN, ItVINO IaCHIUÂ
BARTON RUNS AWAY AND MAKES THE ACQUAINTANCE OF
SILAS WRIGHT, JR.
Synopsis.—Barton Baynes, nn orphan, goes to live with hi* uncle,
Peabody Haynes, and his Aunt Deel on a farm on Rattleroad, In n
neighborhood called I.lckltyspllt, about the year 182(1. He meets Hally
Dunkelberg, about his own age, hut socially of a class above the
Bnyneses, nnd Is fascinated by her pretty face nnd fine clothes. Barton
also meets Roving Kate, known In the neighborhood as the "Silent
Woman." Atno* Grltnsliaw, a young son of the richest man In the town
ship. Is a visitor at the Baynes home and Roving Kate tells the boys'
fortunes, predicting a bright future for Burton and death on ttie gallows
for Amos.
CHAPTER II—Continued.
"We'll draw him up on It—It won't
hurt him any," he proposed.
I looked at him In silence. My
heart smote me, but I hadn't courage
to take Issue with the owner of a
silver watch. When the dog began to
struggle I threw my arms about him
and cried. Aunt Deel happened to
he near. She came und saw Amos
pulling at the rope and me trying to
save the dog.
"Come right down off'n that mow—
thla minute," said she.
When we had come down and the
dog had followed, pulling the rope
nfler him, Aunt Deel wuh pale with
nnger.
"Go right home—right homo," suld
ahe to Amos.
"Mr. Baynes aald that he would
take me up with, the horses," suld
Amoa.
"Ye can use shanks' horses—ayes!
—they're good enough for you," Aunt
Deel Insisted, nnd so the boy went
awny In disgrace.
"Where are your pennies?" Aunt
Deel said to me.
I felt In tuy pockets hut couldn't
find them.
"Where did yo havo 'em last?" my
aunt demanded.
"On the haymow."
"Oomo an' show me."
We went to the mow and searched
for the pennies, but not one of them
could wo find.
I remembered thut when I saw them
Inst Amos hud them In Ills hand.
•Tm awful 'frnld for him—ayes I
he !" said Aunt Deel. "I'm 'frnld
Rovin' Kate was right about him—
uyos !"
"What did sho say?" I asked.
"That he was gotn' to be bung—
ayes! You can't play with him no
more. Boys that take what don't
beloDg to 'em—which I hope he didn't
—ayes I hope It awful—are apt to
he hung by their necks until they
are dead—Jest ns he was goln' to
hang of Khep—ayes I—they are!"
Uncle Peabody teemed to feel very
bad when he learned how Amos had
turned out.
"Don't say a word about It," said
he. "Mebbe you lost tho pennies.
Don't tulud 'em."
Soon after that, one nfternon,
Aunt Deel came down In the field
where we were dragging. While »he
l
V
V
to
A
y \\W!
v W
W,
rV
is
6?
When the Dog Began to Struggle, I
Threw My Arme About Him and
Cried.
was talking with Uncle Peabody an
idea occurred to me. and the dog and
t ran for the house. There was a
pot of honey on the top shelf of the
pantry and ever since I hud seen It
put there I had cherished secret fie
I ran Into the deserted house, and
with the aid of a chair climbed to
the first shelf and then to the next.
and reached into the pan and drew
out a comb of honey, and with no
delay whatever It went to my mouth.
Suddenly It seemed to mo that I had
been hit by lightning. It was the
sting of a bee. I felt myself go
ing and made a wild grab and caught
the edge of the pan and down we
came to the floor—the pun und I—
with n great crash.
I discovered that I was In desper
ate pain und trouble and I got to
my feet and run. I didn't know
where I was going. It seemed to me
that any other place would he better
than that. My feet took me toward
the harn nnd I crawled under It and
hid there. My lip began to feel bettor,
by and by, but big and queer. It
stuck out so that I could see It. I
heard my ancle coming with the
horses. I concluded that I would
stay where I was, hut the dog canto
nml snllTcd and barked at the hole
through which I had crawled ns If
saying, "Here ho Is!" My position
was untenable. I came out. Bhep
begun trying to clean my clothes with
his tongue. Uncle Peabody stood
near with the horses. He looked at
me. He stuck Ids finger Into the
honey on my coat anil smelt It.
"Well, by—" ho stopped nnd came
closer and asked.
"What's happened?"
"Bee stung me," I .answered.
"Where did ye find so much honey
that ye could go swlmiuln' lp It?" he
asked.
I heard the door of the house open
suddenly and the voice of Aunt Deel.
'Teahody ; Peabody, come here
quick," she Called,
Uncle Peabody ran to the house, but
I stayed out with the dog.
Through the open door I heard Aunt
Deel saying: "I cun't stau' U any
longer and I won't—not another day—
ayes, I can't stan' It. That hoy 1 r a
reg'lar pest."
They came out on the veranda. Un
de Peabody said nothing, luit I could
see that he couldn't stand It either.
My bruin wns working fust,
"Oonte here, sir," Unde Peabody
called.
I knew It was serious, for he had
never called me "sir" before. I went
slowly to the steps.
"My Igird 1" Aunt Deel exclaimed.
"Hook at that Up and the honey all
over him—uyes ! 1 tell ye—I can't
stun' It"
"Suy, hoy, is there anything on this
place that ye ain't tipped over?" Unde
Peabody ualted In a sorrowful tone.
"Wouldn't ye like to tip the house
over?"
I was near breaking down In this
answer :
"I went Into the but'ry nnd that
pan Jumped on to me."
"Didn't you taste the honey?"
"No," I drew In toy breath and
shook toy head.
"Liar, too 1" said Aunt Dod. "I
can't stnu' U an' I won't." •
Uncle Peabody was sorely tried, but
he was keeping down his auger. His
voice trembled as he suld :
"Boy, I guess you'll have to—'
Uncle Peabody stopped.
He had
been driven to the last ditch, but he
had not steppeil over It. However. I
knew what he hud started to say and
snt down on the stet«« In great de
jection,
my coat with Ills tongue.
I think the sight of me must have
touched the heart of Auut Deel.
Sh«*p follow«*!, working ut
mustn't be
"Peabody lluynes, w<
cruel," said she In a softer tone, nnd
then she brought a rag und begun to
assist Shop In the process of clean
ing my coat. "Good land l He's got to
atay bore— a y m 1—tie ain't got no
other pluee to go to."
"But If you can't stun' It," said Un
cle Peabody.
''I've got to stan' U—ayes 1—I can't
stan' It, but I've got to—ayest So
have you."
Auat Deel put me to bed although
It was only Ore o'clock. Aa I Uy
looking up at the shingles a singular
resolution came to me. It was bora
ot my longing for the companionship
cf my kind and of my re »ent ment. .1
would go and live with the Dunkel
bergs. I would go the way they had
gene and find them. I knew it wae
I
a
It
to
ten miles away, but of course every
body knew where the Dunkelhergs
lived and any one would show me.
I would run and cot there before
dark nnd tell them that I wanted to
live with them and every day I would
play with Sally Dunkelberg. Uncle
Peabody was not half as nice to play
with as she was.
I heard Uncle Peabody dnve away.
I watched him through the open win
dow. I could hear Aunt Deel wash
ing the dishes in the kltcheu. I got
out of b<jd very slyly and put on my
Sunday cltTihes. I went to the open
tt'tmu-w. The «un had Just gone over
the top of (he woods. I would have
to hurry to get to the Dunkelbergs'
before dark. I crept out ou the top
of the shed nnd descended the lad
der thut leaned against U. I stood a
moment listening. The dooryard was
covered with shadows and very still.
The, dog must have gone with Uncle
Peabody. I run through the garden
to the road and down it as fast as
my bare feet could carry me. In that
direction the nearest house was ul
raost a mile away. I remember I
was out of breath, und the light was
glowing dim before I got to It. I
went on. It seemed to me that I
had gone neurly far euough to reach
my destination when I heard a buggy
coming behlud me.
"Ilello !" a voice culled.
I turned und looked up at Dug Dra
per, In a single buggy, drcsRed In his
Sunday suit.
"Is It much further to where the
Dunkelbergs live?" I asked.
"The Dunkelhergs? Who he they?" 1
.It seemed to me very strange that
he didn't know the Dunkelhergs.
"Where Sally Dunkelberg lives."
That was a clincher. He laughed ;
and swore nnd said:
"Git in here, boy. I'll take ye !
there."
I got Into the buggy, and he struck
Ills horse with the whip nnd went gul
lopltig away In the dunk.
Uy and by we passed Rovin' Kate.
I could Just discern her ragged form
by the roadside nnd called to her. He
struck his horse and gave me a rude
shake nnd bade me shut up.
It was dark and I felt very cold and
began to wish myself home In bed
"Ain't we most to the Dunkel
hergs'?" I asked.
"No—not yet," he answered.
I hurst Into tears and he shook me
roughly nnd shoved me down on the
buggy floor nnd said :
"You lay there und keep still; do
yon hear?"
"Yes," I sobbed.
I lay shaking with fear and fight
ing my sorrow and keeping ns still ns
I could with It, until, wearied by the
strain, I fell asleep.
What befell me that night while I
dreamed of playing with the sweet
ftu-ed girl I have wondered often.
Some time In the night Dug Draper
had reached the village of Canton nnd
got rid of me. He had prohuhly&pdt
mo out at the water trough. Kind
hands had picked me up nnd cnrrled
me to a little veranda thut fronted
!ho door of a law office. There 1
slept peacefully until duyllght, when
I felt a hand on my face nnd awoke
suddenly. I remember that I felt
cold. A kindly fuced man was lean
ing over me.
"Hello, boy I" said he. "Where did
you come from?"
I was frightened nnd confused, but
Ids gcntlu voice reassured me.
"Uncle Peabody I" I culled, ob I
arose nnd looked about me nnd be
gan to cry.
The man lifted me In his arms and
held me close to his breast und tried
to comfort me. I remember seeing
the Silent Woman puss while I was
lu his arms.
of
as
my
at
So
tle
I
Tell tue what's your name," ho
urged.
"Barton Baynes," I said us soon os
I could speuk.
"Where do you live?"
"In LlckttyspUt."
"How did you get here?"
"Dug Draper brought me. Do you
know where Sully Dunkelberg lives?"
"Is she the daughter of Horace
Dunkelberg ?"
"Mr. aud Mrs. Horace Dunkelberg,"
I amended.
"Oh, yes, I know her. Sully Is a
friend of mine. We'll get some break
fust und then we'll go and find her."
He carried mo through the open
door of his office and set me down
at his desk. The cold air of the
night had chilled me and I was shiv
ering.
"You sit there aud I'll have a fire
going lu a minute und get you warm
ed up."
He wrapped me In his coot nnd went
luto the buck room aud built a fire
In a small stove and brought me In
and set me down beside It. He made
some porridge in a kettle while I sat
holding my Uttle hands over the stove
to wann them, and a seuse of com
fort grew lu me.
He dliqied some porridge Into bowls
and put them ou a small table. My
eyes hud watched him with gt-owlug
Interest and I got to the table about
us soon as the porridge and mounted
a chair nnd seized a spoon.
"One moment, Burt," said my
host. "By jlugo! We've forgotten to
wash aud you're face looks like the
dry bed of a river. Come here a min
ute."
He led me out of the hack door,
where there were n wash-stand and a
pall and tin basin and a dish of soft
soap. He dipped the pail In a rain
barrel ami filled the basin, and 1
washed myself and waited not upon
my host, but made for the table and
began to eat, beiug very hungry, af
ter hastily drying my face on a towel.
In a minute he came and sat down
to his own porridge and bread and
butter.
1
t|.
; ?
!
I
1
I
When he hmJ finished eating he set
aside the dishes and 1 asked :
"Now could I go and see Sully Dun
kelberg?"
"What In the world do you want
of Sully Dunkelberg?" he asked.
"Oh, Just to play with her," I Raid
as I showed him how I could sit on
my hands and raise myself from the
chair bottom.
"Haven't you any one to play with
at home?"
"Only my Uncle Peabody."
"Don't you like to play with him?"
"Oh, some, hut he can't stand me
any longer. He's all tired out, and
my Aunt Deel. too. I've tipped over
every single thing on that place. I
tipped over the honey yesterday—•
split It ull over everything and
rooend my clothes. I'm a reg'ler pest.
So I want to play with Sally Dunkel
berg. I wnnt to play with her a lit
tle while—Just a wee little while."
"Forward, inarch!" suld he nnd
away we started for the home of the
Dunkelhergs. The vllluge Interested
me Immensely. I had seen It only
twice before. People were moving
about In the streets. One thing I
did not full to notice. Every man
we met touched bis hut as he greeted
my friend.
It was a square, frame house—that
of the Dunkelbergs —large for that
village, and had a big dooryard with
trees In It. As we came near the gate
I saw Sally Dunkelberg playing with
other children among the trees. Sud
denly I was afraid and begun to hang
.
ï
SUAS W
LAWOFFIt
ip
v'Fj. Ï
/,
i
ï,
I
-â Ihz .
T,
f
^3
N
^3
a
X
\
A Kindly Faced Man Was Leaning
Over Me.
back. I looked down at my bare feet
and my clothes, both of which were
<Ifrty. Sally and her friends had
stopped their play and were standing
In a group looking at us. I heard
Sally whisper :
"It's that Baynes boy. Don't he
look dirty?"
I stopped nnd withdrew my hand
from that of my guide.
"Come on, Bart," he said.
I shook my head and stood looking
over ut thut little, hostile tribe near
me.
"Go and play with them while I step
into the house," he urged.
Again I shook my head.
"Well, then, you wait here a mo
ment," said my new-found friend.
He left me and I snt down upon
the ground, thoughtful nnd silent. .
In a moment my friend came out
with Mrs. Dunkelberg, who kissed me,
and asked me to tell how I happened
to be there.
"I Just thought I would come," I said
as I twisted a button on tuy coat,
nnd would say no more to her.
"Mr. Wright, you're going to take
him home, are you?" Mrs. Dunkel
berg asked.
"Yes. I'll start off with him In an
hour or so," said my friend. "I am
Interested In this boy and I want ts
see his aunt and uncle."
"Well. Sally, you go down to the of
fice nnd stay with Burt until they go."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" the
man asked of me.
"I don't know," I said.
"That means yes," suld the man.
Sally and another little girl came
with us and passing a store I held
hack to look at many beautiful things
In n big window.
"Is there anything you'd like there,
Rnrt?" the man asked.
"I wlsht I had a pair o' them shiny
siloes with buttons on," I answered
In a low, confidential tone, afraid to
express, openly, a wish so extrava
gant.
"Come right In," he said, and I re
member that when we entered the
store I could hear my heart beatlug.
He bought a pnlr of shoes for me
and I would have them on at once,
aud made It necessary for hint to
buy a pair of socks also. After the
shoes were buttoned on my feet I saw
little of Sally Dunkelberg or the other
people of the village, my eyes betug
ou my feet most of the time.
The man took us Into his office and
told us to sit down uutil he could
write a letter.
ho
os
a
the
In
sat
My
my
to
the
a
1
af
Barton gee« to town and
again sees Sally Dunkelberg,
but hie experience on thla oc
casion is not eo pleasant as at
their first meeting. His friend
ship with the great Silas Wright,
however, progresses more favor
ably.
(TO BB CONTINUED.)
he
.
ï
'
Father to the
Man
the
ters
In
By ARCHEY CAMERON NEW
(Copyright, 1918, by McClur« Newspaper
Syndicate.)
to
was
Is
"Bosh, you dear little goose!"
And then, having mildly rebuked
her, Curter Danbury lenned over and
tried to gather the dainty Uttle crea
ture at his side Into his arms. Rut
she wriggled away and faced him with
a determined look In her big brown
»yes.
"I'm not a little goose," sbe retort
ed, poutingly. "And father Is right.
You're a man and politics Is a man's
game, a man's duty. You ought to
pitch In—you're a Itepubllcnn."
"On election day," he admitted, "but
ordinarily a pluin everyday business
man. And I'm no speaker. I—I"
"Thut's It," she took him up quickly.
"You're afraid, Curter—please—for my
sake. I've told him you're sensible, a
fine man."
Danbury frowned.
"But," he argued, "denrest, I can't
tnke orders. I don't like—" He hesi
tated, feurful lest he might offend.this
daughter of Colonel Reuben Thomas,
the "big" boss. "I don't like being
bossed. I don't like the petty artifices
these—politicians resort to to get
votes."
"But It's necessary," she argued
bnck. "There must be leaders."
Danbury smiled. When Dorothy
Tliomus looked like that she reflected
I
ma
call
It
of
every feature of her father's inflexible
fuee, except his wrinkles. Danbury
sought to soothe her, but to no avail.
"Please, Carter," she persisted, "If
you love me, try It. You—might like
U."
"All right," he gave in, and again
lenned over towards her, this time to
meet a delicious kiss full upon Ids lips.
"But tnlnd now, all I'm to do Is to offer
my services. I'll not be to blumfe If
they refuse them and—I hope they
will."
A keen-eyed youngish old-man faced
Curter Danbury the following morn
ing across his flut-topped desk anti
stroked his bristling white goatee, as
he listened to the other attentively.
They were closeted alone In the inner
sanctum of the campaign headquarters
of "William Westlake, the People's
Choice for United States Senator."
Then the "oracle" spoke.
"So my daughter persuaded you,
eh?" queried the Republican leader,
severely. "See here, young man, you
can't lake up this business as a fad.
Once In love, you have to stick."
Something In the colonel's tone
stung Danbury to the quick and he
leuned over the desk angrily.
"I'm not a faddist. Colonel Thomas,"
he retorted hotly. "I've Just held aloof
from politics because—well, because 1
wanted to keep my Independence, my
ideals. But I'll stick."
"Huh !" grunted the other. "I sup
pose you realize I'm the party's
lender?"
"Yes," was Carter's smiling re
joinder. "The papers have told me
that much."
"Well, they haven't told you all,"
shot buck the colonel. "I expect to
have my orders obeyed." The colonel
pushed u button and another man en
tered the office. "Burke, this is Mr.
Danbury. How are you fixed for
speakers tonight at East End hall?"
"Only yourself and Westlake so far,"
answered the other, respectfully.
"Then put hint on, too," ordered the
colonel, crisply. Then as the other re
tired from the room, he turned again
to Danbury. "Be there at eight. And
mind, don't get rambunctious, young
feller. Use diplomacy. There'll be a
lot of foreigners there, and we wnnt
to handle them gently. G'by."
Carter Danbury was fuciug his first
political audience, and yet he felt
cooler than he had expected. He hud
followed the candidate, Westlake, who
now sat behind him, on the stage, with
Colonel Thomas, wiping his perspiring
brow and smirking grandiloquently at
th* sea of upturned fuees. And much
do Carter's surprise, as ho proceeded,
he wus frequpntly applauded. This
added to his courage and he now lean
ed over to deliver his final philippic.
"And, fellow Americans," he orated,
"this is an American age. There can
he no divided allegiance. We have
come to the day when there shall be
nn American race, an American nation
—for Americans only. We shall pre
serve our high Ideals sacredly, nnd to
those who are not with us In spirit,
I say, we say 'get out.' Mr. Westlake
stands for the principle 'pass prosper
ity around,' but we don't propose to
pass It around the world. And we
don't propose, therefore, to allow those
men upon our shores who will accumu
late n fortune here by the grace of our
Institutions and then spread It abroad.
To those who visit our shores with tlmt
end In view, there can be but one
greeting. 'Keep out.' "
Danbury felt several tugs at hts
coat from behind and. wheeling about,
took the assembled politicians by sur
prise.
"You needn't pull my coot," he thun
dered, then waved his hand towards
the vast audience. "My remarks are
Intended for Americans, and I know
there Is not an American out there
who doesn't echo that thought. And
If there is one who Is not American
present, I say to him 'get out.' Gen
tlemen, I pledge our candidate to full
support of true Americanism In con
gress."
Danbury turned to resume his seat
and was struck with the angry tenor
of the crowd oa the stage. What had
to
of
Th*a
What haa he dune,
he left the hail, his cheerful
he said?
later, as
farewell to Colonel Thomas was un
swf»red by m surly grunt.
The next morning he was still Kt sea
when Dorothy informed him that her
father had refused him admission to
the house.
He hurried to campaign headquar
ters and was told Colonel Thomas
couldn't see him—the committee was
In session.
"Where was he assigned
speak that night?" he Inquired, and
surprised to learn he was on the
"Why?" he demanded. The
to
was
blacklist.
clerk couldn't tell him. Theo Danbury
heatedly forced his way Into the com
mittee room, and with blazing eyes
confronted Colonel Thomas.
"Colonel Thomas." he began, "what
Is the trouble around here? What have
I done?"
done?" echoed
"What have you
Westlake at the other end of the room.
You've ruined me.
"Too blame much.
After that fool speech of yours I'll bf
lucky to get ten votes In the Fourth
We're spending a thousand
district.
dollars today to deny your state
ments."
"To deny your Americanism?" de
pded Carter, and he now turned
wrathfully towards the candidate,
"Why not call a spade a spade? See
here, you call yourself statesmen.
You're afraid to ac
ma
I
call you traitors,
knowledge the country who gave you
birth, who gives you a living, t>.' back
It up to the full, just because it might
You're yellow—yel
lose you votes,
lower than those poor people whose
They're Americans
votes you're after.
—every one of them. And they're glad
of It. They, or their forbears came to
this country to seek liberty, to seek the
right to live and enjoy our freedom
And now they're proud of It—they,
who have been here months—while
you, who have enjoyed those rights all
your lives, and your people before you,
haven't courage enough to protect the
country that protects you. Who's the
worse—they with their hopes, their
Ideals, or you who turn your backs
upon the hopes and Ideals your fore
fathers fought for and left to your
keeping? Where's your Americanism
—the Americanism of courage, of de
cency, of truth? And now, Colonel
Thomas, you didn't want me to enter
this campaign—afraid I wouldn't stick.
But I'm just beginning to see my duty
—I want to stick—I demand the right
to stick. And I call upon the members
of this committee to sustain me with
their votes. Do I get them—or not?"
At the end of the table a tall, white
haired old man. who stroked his brist
ling white goatee, rose and rapped fot
order. Then he bent his full gaze on
Danbury.
"You do," he answered, sharply, and
then the corners of his mouth quiv
ered. "Gentlemen of the committee,
the son again Is father to the man. 1
was the one who pulled his coat last
night, and I rise with shame to ac
knowledge it. Either we're Americans,
or we're God only knows what—and 1
prefer the former." He turned to Dan
bury. "Years back, suh, my grand
father's father gave him his swo'd.
'Keep this, my son,' says he, 'an
nevah use It except foah two pur
poses, eithah t' kill some beastly ene
my, or t' kill yoself foah not doin' It.'
An' If I had that swo'd now, suh, I'd
feel mighty tempted t' use it on my
self. But I'll do th' next best thing."
He turned again to the committee.
"Gentlemen, I move th' committee ex
tend a rtsin' vote of Invitation to V5uab
friend, Mr. Danbury, Mr. Carter Dan
bury—American, t' speak at th' big
meetln' at th' Academy tonight. What'a
youah pleasuah?"
As the members of the committee
rose to their feet, en masse, the colonel
turned his back on them and motioned
to Danbury to come to him.
"You've seen th' vote, Carter," he
whispered, laying his hands affection
ately on the young man's shoulder.
"And you know what It means. But,"
and his voice sank lower still, "come
up t' th' house t' dinner before you go,
Dorothy—might like to have you."
How to Test Colors.
If the color Is solid or with UttU
white ple.lt a sample of It with a strip
of white material. Make a strong soap
solution. Have It warm but not hot
Rub and squeeze the goods In this for
ten minutes. Rinse In cold water, let
It dry. If the color holds fast, th«
water not colored and the strip ot
white not stained one may be pretty
sure of the color. To test for light
expose a piece of material, In both a
wet nnd dry condition, to strong sun
light for a week. If the goods do not
show signs of fading It Is reasonably
sure they will not do so. If you waul
various colors for a cotton
small expense use Easter egg dyes.
rug at
Bomb-Dropping Balloons.
The first bomb-dropping ballooua
were humble enough and equally fu
tile. Balloons had been used In
as early as the siege of Maubeuge by
the Austrians for observation purposes
The first talk of bomb dropping
In 1812, when the Russians were suld
to have a huge balloon for that
pose, but nothing was done with it
however, the Austrians,
when attacking Venice, sent up paper
fire balloons, which were to drop shell*
Into the town. But they forgot to al
low for contrary air currents,
ballons got Into one, drifted back to
ward the Austrians and bombed them
Instead of Venice.
vVHI
was
pur
in 1847.
lt,.
Where Did Ha Get It?
Fiatbush— Did you hear about Bush
wlck?
Bensonharst—No ; what?
"He's In trouble with the govern
ment.''
"No; reallyr
"Tee; It got reported around that
he was eating too mach."

xml | txt