The Sunday Oregonian. (Portland, Ore.) 1881-current, August 27, 1922, SECTION THREE, Page 6, Image 50

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    THE SUNDAY OREGONTAX, PORTLAND: AUGUST 27, 1022
imfleiir S)rr mmtan
E8TABUWED hexky PlTTOCK
L Published by The Oreonian Pub. Co.,
lZi Sixth Street. Portland, Orejon.
C. A. MORDEX. E. B. PIPER.
Manager. Editor.
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WOOLLEY AM) HIS COMRADES.
The last of the great temperance
and ' prohibition; crusaders of old
days passed from our time with the
recent deatn of John Granville
Woolley, at Granada, Spain. Like
many lecturers against John Bar
leycorn, -who rode the first verbal
- tilts against liquor, Woolley had
j been in his youth much given to
drink. The experiences of that
' period in his life well qualified him
' to declare that "it biteth like a
. serpent and stingetb. like an adder."
I and to'arouse by his oratory a pub-
- lie sentiment against the saloon.
He. took the lecture platform in
'.1888, when scant attention was
given to prohibition, and when
cities, states and .villages were at-
tempting to reform the liquor traf
fic by restrictive laws,' or local
option, if they bothered at all.
But the Inception of the crusade
jwas not the work of Woolley. It
- had Its roots in anti-liquor agitation
, in Great Britain, a century before,
.when such signs as "drunk for Id,"
and "dead drunk for 2d," drew
'. thirsty but impecunious customers
to the low grog-shops of London
and Liverpool. Oddly enough,
when we consider our preconceived
opinions, the original temperance
society of English speaking people
. was formed In 1829 at New Boss,
County Wexford, Ireland; and there,
' too, arose a few years later the
dynamic and persuasive Father
Theobold Mathew, of Cork, who be
- came the literal -father of tem
perance and of prohibition in
America.
Father Mathew was touched by
inspirational fire. On his Celtic
tongue were, phrases of vivid de
piction, and in his heart was such
hatred of liquor that those who
heard him were swayed and swept
. away as by an evangelist which,
.' indeed, he was. In Great Britain
and Ireland, within the short space
of three years, he gained 4,000,000
followers. The consumption of liq
uor fell away one-half. At the
crossroads grocery in America,
those days, the barrel of liquor was
a fixture, its contents regarded as
a definite family commodity. Gen
tlemen were expected to be hard
of head jnd handy with the cup.
To such a situation, in 1850, came
- Father Mathew overseas, preaching
against liquor to such effect that
there were founded throughout the
I'nited States many Father Mathew
" Total Abstinence societies. Hid
visit may well be regarded as the
premonitory birth pang of prohi
bition, though for some years prior
to his coming the American move
ment had been gathering vigor
under the leadership of John Bar
tholomew Gough.
Gough also had looked upon the
wine when it was red. and had
turned from it as an impassioned
convert to total abstinence. He
seems to have heen an exceptional
man in many ways, with thespian
talent which he turned to good
advantage in his cause eloquent
as Mathew himself, and a master
of the old style invective against
rum. He was of English birth, and
as a young man was a bookbinder
in New York. Continued dissipa
tion lost him all decent employ
ment and he became a singer of
comic songs in vile drinking places
me outt or drunken jests and a
sort of drunken jester to John
Barleycorn. In 1842 he was con
verted to total abstinence while
a ttending-a temperance lecture, and
though he afterward returned to
his cups for a brief period of. re
lapse, he rallied again and became
the most significant and fearless
American temperance lecturer of
his time. England called to him,
so great was his fame, and In visits
-, to Great Britain he aided the work
begun by Father Mathew. Gough
. died in 1886, his mantle passing to
Woolley.
: Meantime the agitation'-against
liquor in America had brought
about, chiefly through the influence
of Mathew and Gough, the organi
zation of the Independent Order of
Good Templars, , a" society wKich
spread with remarkable rapidity
over this country and Europe. If
Master Barleycorn had not then
been so occupied with his potations
he might have attempted such re
.Iorm as wuld have long delayed
the eventual advent of Drohihitinn
But he regarded the' temperance'
movement as- the work of imma
terial cranks, and In consequence of
this attitude there came into being
the Woman's Christian Temperance
t'nion. as a direct product of the
woman's crusade of 1870. This
.. portentious' society, founded in
;,t'leveland, 1874, and now having
more than 12,000 local unions, was
the concept of Frances E. Wiilard,
who became its president in 1879
ana remained in - office until her
From this movement, naturally
enough, came the exchange of
views and the solidifying of senti
ment which led to agitation for
suffrage, in which Mlas Wiilard was
almost equally active, holding that
the ballot would best serve as a
protection to worsen against the
misery caused by drink. Of the
many who" took the field against
liquor this feminine campaigner
was the most indefatigable, aver
aging not less than one meeting a
day for .more than ten years.
American legislation against liq
uor is far older than the republic, I
! ?hB.d S . it
I 'n ordinance w
expression
d, where
was adopted
making drunkenness a misde
meanor punishable by a fjne
100 pounds of tobacco. Through
out the early fight in the United
States the battle was waged wholly
around the license system, on the
issue of license or no license. The
result was occasional local option
almost uniformly ineffectual for the
reason that financial pressure
caused such towns as adopted It .to
return to the license system.. Among
the states Mine solved this dilem
ma in 1851, inspired by the influ
ence of Father Mathew and of
Gough, adopting state local option
and refusing licenses. Kansas,
North and South Dakota followed
this lead, and in 1881 Maine placed
the prohibitory clause in Its con
stitution.
The record of the fight both for
and against liquor would seem to
furnish proof that with liquor there
can be no temporizing, no conces
sions. Sunday closing laws, back
door laws, laws against the proxim
ity to church, schoolhouse or polls,
were alike ineffectual to allay the
harm done by the saloon chiefly
for the reason that the liquor in
terests regarded such laws as un
warranted and meddlesome and
were defiant of them. "All these
experiences with legislation that
accomplished little or notning,"
says an authority, "taught the pub
lic that they were being fooled, and
that the powerful financial inter
ests in the liquor trade were always
able to guide legislation or block
it, or prevent its enforcement, so
that In the end the trade- was un
harmed."
To trace the progress of the pro
hibition movement, from Father
Mathew, Gough, Woolley and Fran
ces Wiilard, to the ratification of
the eighteenth amendment by forty-
five states, and the arrival of na
tional prohibition, is to realize very
clearly that prohibition is not
among that genre of things which
just happened." For on every
page of the record is the evidence
of the strife for better citizenship
as arrayed against stupidity and
crime. Prohibition is the fruition
of many sacrificial lives and of a
.mounting public sentiment that
overwhelmed. After these years,
these pangs, and all this bitterness,
America could make no more grave
mistake than to take the backward
step,
1EI THE PORT DO IT.
Improvements made by the Long.
Ben Lumber company at the mouth
of the Cowlitz river are so welcome
an addition to the industries of the
Columbia basin that opposition to
the employment of the -Port of
Portland dredges directly on them
is inexcusable. The pretext offered
is that the port commission has no
authority to undertake private
work, but that argument is refuted
by the fact that the port's dredges
have frequently been hired out un
der like circumstances and by the
benefit that will accrue to the
whole community of which the Co
lumbia is the! great artery and of
which Portland is the center.
A great industry and a new town
are building at the mouth of the
Cowlitz. A great area of lowland
is to be filled above flood stage.
miles of the banks of the Columbia
and Cowlitz are to be bulkheaded
and a deep harbor is to be formed
where ships 'can load. ' Though a
private enterprise, this work par
takes of a public character, from
which Portland cannot fail to
profit, both in increase of business
and in improvement of the river.
Confinement of the water in the
channel will aid maintenance of the
latter at the same time that it
redeems a large area of waste land.
The dredges of the Port of Port
land are the only ones available for
this work, and the Long-Bell com
pany.is willing to lease one or more
of them by the day directly from
the port during any period when
they are not needed for the work
of the port. Objection to this ar
rangement comes from contractors
who wish to lease the dredges on
the same terms and take the con
tract at a higher price, though
they would give no service that the
port itself would not give. When
men come to this region to estab
lish new industries, they should not
be compelled to pay such tribute.
The rental asked by the port is
ample to pWy the entire cost of
operation with depreciation added,
and it is enough.
FOVR-SCORE YEARS AND TEX.
Methuselah, by biblical accounts,
passed to his fathers at the age of
969 years. In truth he must have
been a very wearied old man, with
all his centuries and their crowding
memories. The Samaritan version
has it that he was but 720 years old
when death called him. . Even if
this were true, one could find it in
his heart to feel sorrow for the
weight of time that oppressed him.
Filled with the happiness .of . life,
the color of its pleasures, the zest
of meeting each new day, one can
not nevertheless envy this patriarch
of his people.
.An Austrian scientist. Stein bach,
advances the claim that he has
solved the secret of sustained life,
and that by surgical skill he cheats
both death and time. Men of the
allotted four-score years and ten,
stooped and faltering, straighten to
youth and are restored to life. The
nature of his operation is secret
and represents the goal of a search
that he has unflaggingly followed
for many .years. Methuselah's age,
he says, is within the grasp of hu
manity. There is to this claim,
however, sincere it may be, the ring
of an old fallacy, the echo of the
ories that burst in the testing. It
was but lately that gland trans
planting held forth hope to those
who have attained the crest of life
and are shrinking from the valley.
The impermanent nature of such
relief has since been sadly proved
upon many. The body ripens with
its years, or blights from physical
causes, and becomes singularly like
corn that is ready for harvest. Age
inhabits its tissues, and age will
have its way.
Dearly as men love life it Is prob
able that, were the boon of exist
ence prolonged, at .will to. be given
them, much that makes life dear
to us would be exacted of the re
cipient. All would have an equal
right to live, and if by social choice,
or mental selection, or physical, or
what you will, this right were to
be denied the masses it is conject
urable that violence would urge
equality and that murder and revolt
would take the precious privilege
from those who had received it.
In such a world, presently peopled
in to capacity, there could be no chil-
in (dren. The urg-e that has since time
began served as the stimulus to hu-
- tiuan betterment, the urge that
of j gradually improved the generations.
would cease to be. For what would
men exist, in such a day? For the
sensual? Or for the material? Cer
tainly for the gratification of selfish
desire.
Death is a wise provision of na
ture wise and well bethought,
though the flesh and mind shrink
from it. . Else death had not been
the law Inexorable that it is, the
natural concomitant of birth. As
for long life, there is rto need for
science to teach us more than we
already know, or to teach us ajight
that is not in full accord with nat
ural law. Indeed, it is more than
probable that science cannot fare
beyond such limitations, and never
will. Clean, vigorous, well-balanced
living, together with the conquest
of disease, will yield to each mor
tal, save for mishap, the full span
of his years. It is enough.
THE BAN OX JAZZ.
The power of the dancing mas
ters, those arbiters of the terpsieho
rean revel, is about to undergo a
severe test. , They 'have - said that
the wriggle dance and the jazz tune
must be cast into outer darkness,
whence they came some years ago,
as an emotional aftermath of war.
Should they enforce their fiat the
return to sanity will be as impres
sive and welcome as soft melodious
music after mad tumult. Both the
suggestive dance and barbaric syn
copation have literally brought
about their own undoing, for it is
clearly evident that this authorita
tive stand against them is but a
reaction to the 'very sensible irri
tation of the public. i
Jazz is an inclusive term .that
embraces many modern hectie
eccentricities, and. which has not
lacked for defenders. If the devil
himself were brought to trial he
would find advocates. Yet the fact
Is not to be escaped that jazz Is
atavistic, and that it partakes jmore
of the jungle than of civilization.
It is not long since an American
woman, on the trail of gorillas in
Africa, witnessed a native dance in
all its stark savagery.. In her nar
rative of adventures she records
that the gyrations of the dancers,
as well as the beat of the music to
which they swayed and shuffled
and twisted, were more than remin
iscent of the cafe scenes she left
behind in distant, enlightened
America. Such a vogue could be
but impermanent, for the sufficient
reason that it had nothing to com
mend it save unabashed sensuality.
If we are to judge this strange
and passing phase as we have
judged other vogues, of music and
dancing, it is perceived that from
the first it has been valueless. It
has bequeathed nothing to our cul
ture, not even the haunting memory
of an air. And the same is not true
of the sentimental era which pre
ceded it, for though that vogue war
strongly lachrymal at times, it left
us certain songs that will be lont
remembered and, doubtless, lef
us a little better than it found us.
EMERSON' HOl'GH AND THE OLD
WEST.
Emerson Hough laments the
passing of the old west. He decries
the cheapening of canyon and
mountain by the omnipresent tour
ist. No, not so much because of the
toufist, but rather because, so he
says, the west has littered its land
scapes with the symbols of progress.
and save in publicity alone is no
longer western. One might as well
stay at home and be more comfort
able. Otherwise there is little dif
ference. All this and more Mr.
Hough has to say of the west in a
recent issue of the Philadelphia
Public Ledger.
"The truth is," avers Mr. Hough,
that the west does not believe in
conservation, but in utilization and
exploitation. It intends to retail to
the easterner only what is left after
It. has used up its own resources,
Jazz, dust, hurry, unrest, disillu
sionment, overdevelopment these
are the things that one-is sure to
get on his western vacation today."
So? It is evident that Mr. Hough,
a westerner by brevet, if ever there
was one, loves well the land he both
derides and defends. He recalls, as
he writes, the golden days of his
own adventuring within its bound
aries the unspoiled days, the zest
ful, before tincans glistened by the
trail, and rubicund, blustering pro
moters assumed an ample protec
torate over the prodigal riches
about them. Yet in his heated dis
dain for the inevitable changes,
Mr. Hough is unfair to the west.
The west did not create jazz, and
does not particularly care for it.
Most western states are heavily In
debt, and are planning new bur
dens for their sparse populace, for
paved highways and the defeat of
dust. They have thought, though
not unselfishly, of the convenience
and pleasure of the tourist as they
constructed these roads. And why
charge us with hurry? The tourist
need not hurry, though he does.
Nor are we overdeveloped, though
insistent national demands are in
terminably made that we develop
our resources without undue delay
and place them at the disposal of
industry. v
Why should the eastern tourist be
disillusioned? . Mr. Hough stoutly
asserts that he is. Are we such
marplots that we have changed the
contour of the mountains and sul
lied their snows, or in any way
contrived to rob the land of its
natural graces and beauty?- In
what resides our fault that the cow
boy is not as numerous as once he
was, or that the Black Barts and
Wild Bill Hickoks have vanished
before the law? We do not write
the novels that easterners read and
that fill them - with anticipatory
thrills. They are written by east
erners. I
Mr. Hough is wroth that an east
erner en tour, and desiring to fish
or hunt, enters the forest reserva
tions to find local sportsmen -already
at the campfires. Indeed, he ob
serves, the reservations are ranged
by cattle and sheep. Would, lie
banish the residents from- their
happy hunting grounds to afford
better sport for the tourist? Why?
There is sport enough - for both.
The tourist will find these benighted
natives to be rather liberal and
warm-hearted fellows, as Mr.
Hough well knows, eager to see that
the guest of their state finds good
hunting or fills his creel. The fish
and the game are there. As for
ranging stock in the forests, the
policy'is a national one and creates
a revenue for the operation of those
same playgrounds. Sheep do not
bleat from every patch of wild
meadow; Cattle do not snort from
every thicket. Sheep and cattle do
not range, as Mr. Hough implies,
those districts where the hunter
and the angler find their greatest
sport. You might spend a month in
a western forest without ever see
ing a tame animal save your own
pack horses.
A hundred years from now, thrice
that, the west will yet be the west.
It is not to be" classified by Its
beaten paths, nor to be explored by
them. . It will still have game" and
fish in abundance, thanks to a policy
conservation that Is wise and
creative, and It will still' summon
tired folks from then- offices across
the continent to follow, its trails.
It will not be the personal west
thatMr. Hough knew and mourns.
The characters of settlement will
live only in fiction. But its ranges
and its watercourses will be un
changed and trebly wonderful for
that they will afford contrast to the
peopled valleys and the industrial
cities so near at hand. Settlement
in the east, congestion in its cities
and agricultural areas, have not
served to extirpate the.allure of tht
Adirondaeks. Mr. Hough is griev
ing for the decline of symbols.. The
land he loved is changeless. Yet
he broods by the deathbed of an old
friend, and the west :more than the
east - can - possibly comprehend -
knows -and understands his sorrow
MILK AND CHILD WELFARE.
The approximate perfection of
milk as a food and its great value
as an agent for child health have.
trended quite naturally to the asso
ciation of dairying with child wel
fare work for the reason that
study of the relation of this food
to juvenile development has, per
haps more than any other impulse,
made clear the necessity for a gen
eral effort in that direction. How
closely : a commercial enterprise
'may come, to be linked with a
humanitarian or altruistic project
is- evidenced by the fact that the
world's dairy congress, to meet In
America next year, will regard
child welfare work as an insepar
able part of Its international pro
gramme. H. E. Van Norman,, president of
the congress, but recently returned
from a European tour, declarer?
that he found in several countriei
an increased appreciation of th
need for child welfare work as
natural concomitant of modern
dairying. Southern Europe he ob
served not to be so well organized
to this end, but in England, Bel
gium, Holland and ' the Scandina
vian countries the principle was
well understood and generally prac
ticed. "Three countries, England,
Belgium and Holland," he said,
"seemed especially alive to our
progress in the use of milk and in
its use for decreasing the death
rate among babies and in strength
ening the children of school age."
The provision of milk for the
correction of malnutrition among
school children is an accepted pub
lic policy in most American cities.
and has in every respect justified
the predictions of those who fought
for what appeared, at first glimpse,
to be an intrusion on the rights of
the home. But as it became more
generally understood that the lack
6f milk did not necessarily tmply a
situation of poverty, but rather a
parental oversight, the policy be-r
came entirely acceptable. It not
only brought milk to the schools,
but it directed the attention of
parents to the need for more milk
in the homes. There were rosier
cheeks and improved mental effort
in many a classroom because a
sensible sentiment prevailed.
The popularizing of milk as an
agent for child health is by no
means to be characterized as a
selfish or visionary project. The
truth is that milk is the nearest
approach to the perfect food,
among those foods, that are com
mercially available". It contains the
proteins, fats, " carbohydrate' and
vitamines so essential to physical
and mental vigor that its beneficial
effects pause but a space this side
the miraculous. Its nutritive value
is so well established that any plan
of child welfare which overlooks
this ally is not thoroughly ae
coutered for its task. The deter
mination of the dairying congress
to weld sound business with sen
sible welfare work is the portent of
a better day a day when com
mercial transactions will not be
aimed solely at the dollar, but at
a lasting and beneficial result as
well.
THE THIRD PARTY SPEAKS.
When members and groups of
members of the "big four" railroad
brotherhoods began to strike in
sympathy with the shopmen, they
were quickly reminded that a rail
road strike is not a mere private
quarrel between railroad compa
nies and their employes. Fruit
growers Informed them that, if they
did not move trains, fruit would rot
ou the ground and millions of dol
lars 4-ould be lost by people whose
main interest in railroads was that
trains should run. Wenatchee fruit
growers have already lost J3.000,-
000" and are ready to run the trains
themselves rather than lose 'more.
A like situation exists in the fruit
counties of California. . From the
beginning public opinion has been
against the strike and, if other
unions should join that of the
shopmen, would extend its con
demnation to them. . - The third
party is asserting Its interest in
the quarrel.
Evidently the brotherhood chiefs
l ave sensed this feeling in the at
mosphere, for the sporadic strikes
of enginemen and trainmen who
left tralnloads of passengers to
swelter in the desert and tralnloads
of fruit to rot have not extended.
They have transformed themselves
from interveners on the side of the
irikers into mediators In a quarrel
in which they do not wish to take
part, for they have a wholesome
ifcspect for the third party to the
quarrel, whose interest in it. the
shopmen deny.
If the shopmen expect to enlist
tny vestige of public sympathy in
their,-support in the future, they
Will accept President Harding's
proposals and declare the strike
cff. The president's terms have
been accepted by the railroad ex
ecutives with the sole proviso that
they will re-employ only so many
cf the strikers as there are va
cancies in their .forces. The ex
ecutives agree without equivoca
tion to accept all future orders of
the labor board and to submit the
question of seniority to that body.
The strike leaders have in fact re
jected the president's proposals, for
they reserve "their right to suspend
work upon non-acceptable condi-
tons" and they .hold out for full
testoration of seniority rights as
these existed before the strike,
Plainly stated, that means that tney
Hill strike against labor board de -
cisions which thev do not like and
that they wish to quit their jobs,
yet hold them, at their own pleas
ure. The strike was inexcusable al
t:ie beginning, has become
less
excusable every week that it- has
continued, and is least excusable
when prolonged .for such causw mm
those named. - ,
THE ORDER HEMIPTERA.
From dawn till dusk he , talks
Incessantly - of cars. He knows
their anatomy -as a vivisectionist
knows the inrrer mechanism of a
blue and white guinea pig. They
have no secrets from him. His is
a strange lingo of miles-per-hour-per-gallon,
of differentials, and car
buretors, and stream lines, and
snappy boats, and hill climbing,
and straightaway' As he .talks a
rapt look will come .into his eyes,
and his voice. 'frill break and
stumble with eagerness to outstrip
his story. Haying'dther businessv
after a decent -interval, ; we always
disengage his hand from our coat
lapel and go away from there. He
is classified as belonging to the
order of hemiptera,' or true -bugs.
Still another friend of ours, more
honored in avoidance than observ
ance, hath s -the habit of forever
harping upon .his peerless garden.
He pins- his prey in a corner and
thereafter talks interminably of
soils and Tnulches, of the effect of
lime on clay, of cabbages, roses,
turnips, salvia, sweet corn, gladioli,
mushrooms and Canterbury bells.
He is .forever sniffing a rain that
will be good for the -late stuff, or
dreading a frost that' will catch his
last installment of poling beans.
An. advocate of the Back lot garden,
hep an tell ybu and will insist' upon
It, the precise amount-of provender
that may be grown on a plot 50x100
feet, and can even estimate to a
nicety the amount of proteins thus
obtained for - your physical salva
tion. The method' of escape is
usually a. hurried "Excuse me, I got
an appointment must keep sorry
very interesting," and a" dive for
freedom. He also belongs to the.j
order hemiptera, or true bugs;
liy tne way, we are credibly in
formed that they are making some
excellent catches around Alsea these
days. It's funny whaf friendship
will spring up between a fellow and
his fishing rod. Admitting that it
didn't cost much in the first place,
it-was. always a good rod, and when
the reel seat was switched a trifle,
and it was rewrapped and agate
guides substituted, for those that
were oft it, it became as good as
any of the high-priced ones. Now,
fellow could stand about here,
using a tapered silk line, enameled.
of course, and flip a No. 6 fly be
yond the sidewalk..-. Action? We'll
say -it's got action! Stick around
a minute and I'll go get that old
rod and let you try her out. Aw,
what's your hurry?' "
ODER THE SURFACE WITH TKOi'T.
It ; is doubtful that American
anglers, or any save a minor and
yery negligible number, give heed
to the lore, of their avocational art.
Hence arises grave doubt that the
average angler merits that proud
epithet, and the suspicion that at
best he is no more than a" fisher
man. To raise and play and hook
a trout of girth and gameness, and
bring him glowing and gasping to
the creel is not all of angling. f To
be a proper angler- the captor of
that fish must; know which trout
he has, and have at least an inkling
of why it took the lure tha killed
it, and how it befell that fontinalis
or rainbow chose of all others that
one swirl of water for his abode.
In this region of the- Pacific coast
there are. many adroit followers of
the gentle sport who yet maintain
that the steelhead is a salmon, and
that ".salmon" trout are a distinct
species. That they are obtuse to
the evidence in both cases aptly
illustrates the point.
Such 'reflections are engendered
by a brief but gerrtal acquaintance
with an old book from England,
termed '"The Fly-Fisher's Ento
mology." It was written whole
heartedly by Alfred Ronalds in the
year 18 36, and though it treats of
a very technical phase tf angling
it is by no means unique in the land
which inspired it. Comparisons of
American ways to those of England
are not always avoidable, and are
sometimes greatly to our advan
tage, yet one could wish that our
anglers had sometime given to their
play the Intelligent and compre
hensive research attested by such
works, and had penned for us such
classics of cool water and bright
fish as would survive a century.
Most happily there is a tendency
nowadays to elevate the sport to
its proper pedestal, and to absorb
from it. an intellectual as well as
physical pleasure. We should have
native reference works both enjoy
able and erudite. . , .
. Bearing In mind that the. in
quiring attitude of Ronalds was and
is by no means unusual among
English anglers, it is nevertheless
a joy to fancy oneself with that
purposeful student of trout when
he erected an observatory hut d"n
the river Blythe, in Staffordshire,
for the purpose of prying into the
habits and manners of his eventual
captives. Great care was. taken in
the construction of the hut to in
sure an , unseen approach and an
unsuspected surveillance of the
ffish, and there our author and, his
friends Instituted tests and recorded
facts that displace several common
errors with respect to trout" and,
presumably, with respect, to other
fish. , '
Yet at the outset the observers
were baffled by an apparent
phenomenon that remains unsolved
today. They perceived but could
not read the riddle of how a trout
maintains an almost motionless
poise in swift water in a torrent
that would tilt the heaviest wader
as a hawk hangs suspended Jn
tne air. The instrument of propul
sion, the tall,-was scarcely seen to
move, while as for the fins they
assuredly did not, yet the fish, was
master of the tempest of water.
Oregon anglers who have witnessed
a salmon run in some swift coastal
stream have frequently marveled at
the ability, the effortless ease, with
which the bulky migrant will, con
tentedly defy the swiftest torrent t
motionless for long minutes save
for an occasional and very slight
twist of the broad tail.
But it is evident that on another
tack those investigators of several
decades ago effectually disposed of i
the fallacy that trout are keen of I
hearing, and that laughter and loud
talk are to Be shunned by the
successful angler. It was found
that the discharge of a gun. hidden
! from the fish, was utterly unnoticed
j by a trout-six inches beneath the
'surface of the Blythe. He re-
mained on the alert for a provi
dential fly, oblivious to the detona
tion within a few feet of his haunt.
Nor did' shouting and loud voices.
wrme tne oDservers iUuCu.
were
. w . . I. - . . , . ln
trout in the slightest
j it ot.,.-!,iiv
concluded that even the vibratory
theory of alarm is untenable, and
though he left the matter open he
wisely advised his fellows to avail
themselvps of friendlv cha;s while
angling, holding that their enjoy
ment would be intensified and that
no possible harm could come of it.
Sight is the most important of
the sensory gifts of fish, was Ron.
aids' deduction from other experi
ments not only Ideally adapted to
their element but actually fitted to
discern more of , an object above
and beyond that element than is
commonly believed. By diagrams
and tests he proved that an observ,
ant trout -there are no others-4
aided by the laws -. of refraction
could discern an angler from head
to heel, though he were apparently
screened by a corner of the bank.
Incidentally he observed that a low
bank, almost level with the water,
is best fitted for the approach, as
the angler is then to be seen with
less .distinctness, and that moderate
wading further lessens visibility.
But of even greater Interest to the
practical angler is his dictum that
in the fishing of lively streams it
is best to proceed up-stream. The
obvious reason for this -is that the
trout are faced in that direction in
anticipation of food, and that they
cannot under any circumstances see
behind them.
Common belief has it that trout
are very sensitive to taste, and in
the test of this the thorough Ron
alds was inspired to unique experi
ment. He dabbled in'sects in honey,
oil, vinegar, mustard and cayenne
pepper, to discover that the trout
under observation seemed tobe
entirely uncritical and omnivorous.
The palate of the trout, in- his
opinion, is either singularly stupid
or profusely democratic. Yet he
noted that his fish were not partial
to bees or wasps and, iot crediting
them with lingering and painful
memories, was at loss to determine
whether it was smell or taste that
warned them. Quite seriously he
wrote that he had seen trout take
the "humble bee" none other than
our ponderous bumble gingerly in j
mouth and then eject the gay
morsel. It seems likely that even
a trout with an immunity to
cayenne pepper might balk at the
fiery essence of an angered "hum
ble bee."
Ronalds pottered pleasantly about
with his experiments for some time
uciuie tits sei iliss Juujiciuaiuus uuwu i
on white paper and committed him -
self to them. And though the
major part of his learned treatise
is given to trout-fly "entomology,
with sage counsel on what to use
and when, there is no lack of rain
smell and white water throughout
its pages. Such " a book should
sometime be written for the good
repute of American angling, and
for the delight and information of
those who are hot mere killers of
fish, but who are anglers and of
a genial breed.
(
Australia calculates that the na
val armament reduction made pos
sible by the United States will per
mit a reduction of 10 per cent in
income tax. The figures are for
Australia's own income tax, how
evernot ours.
Nothing can surpass the equa
nimity with which the man who
did- not get to be president re
gards the good fortune that cast
the burden of present-day problems
upon the shoulders of him who did.
With that new variety of apple
that ripens In May and with apples
that keep until Maj" and later,
there will be positively no further
use for the green apple joke that
has done service for so many years.
Jt's an ill wind that blows no
body any good. The railroad strike
conveys a promise that homemade
canned peaches will.be. plentiful
the coming winter if housewives
are alive to tbeir opportunities.
The vacant lots covered with
weeds ought to be cleared, there is
no question, as to that. Just now
the thistles are blooming and seeds
floating, to lodge on neighboring
plots that are kfept clean.
America is sending another finan
cial adviser to Persia, who prob
ably will succeed - (to better than
William Morgan Shuster did,, in
asmuch as he will not carry any
cash along with him.
The bootlegger profiteers, like
the war profiteers, will do well if
they put some of their profits away
for a rainy day. There are already
signs that the good times won't last
forever.
A man in New York is said to
have invented a process of keeping
cider permanently sweet. He does
not expect, of course, to sell his
secret to the home brew folks.
First thing we know the scientists
will be. proving that the ancient
Polynesians were more civilized
than we ' are, judging from their
supply of dangerous weapons.
What has become of the old-
fashioned thrifty man who about
this time of year used to buy a
straw hat ,fon next summer at a
marked down price? "
Again we are reminded of Mr.
.Stefansson's sage observation that
it' is much' easier to keep warm in
winter than to keep cool when the
weather is hot.
The melancholy days are here,
when this season's straw lid begins
to look passe and It seems hardly
worth while to buy another.
A byproduct of law defiance is
both parents in! jail in Oregon City
for bootlegging and three children
being cared for by the county.
The 'president of Guatemala Is
reported to be' in flight. That job
must be pretty nearly as precarious
as president of Ireland.
The buyer who pays $450 for a
suit of pajamas would almost need
to have insonibia to get her money's
worth from. them.
The Listening Post,
, By UeWItt Harry.
(T)EPORTEP.S must have imag
. J. ination," volunteered the visi
tor to the local room. "It must take
fast figuring to write some of the
. .,,, th- tff
- v" " "' "
that is published.
. And that gives one .common idea
' a reporters work. Imagination
' indeed. Ifs just what a reporter
does not want, what he avoids,
, News writing is based on the
iratherinir of hard, cold facts. It 8
all very well for the fiction writer
to imagine or Invent, but for the
reporter never. He is not writing
fiction or his own thoughts, but is
merely relating things as they
really happen, many times more in
teresting than the product of the
dreamer's pen.
To be a'good reporter a man must
know humanity. He must be a keen
observer and watch for the realities
of. life. If he can tell of them as
they actually occur, then he is cer
tain to reach the high places in his
life game. Invention will not fill
the bill. ; No imaginative character
can possibly perform true to human
form., This is what the reporter
must guard against. He cannot
take anything for granted. Hia is
a life of facts.
Therefore the visitor in the local
room was wrong. Reporters do not
invent. Theirs is a work that deals
with facts. It Is exact, not variable,
and the . reporter's own thoughts
have no place in It. N
One of the most difficult things
for the reporter to avoid is being
carried away by his own feelings
or sympathies. While not an
automaton he must cultivate tht
mind free from prejudice and be able
to give ' an uncolored, unbiased
story of what really occurs. . He
must keep close tab on life or his
studies will .go wrong. No two
people will act ' the same under
similar circumstance's and there
were never any two stories just
alike. No imagination could invent
the situations encountered in every
day life. The fictlonlst can make
his writings suit his own mind, but
the reporter must take things as
he - finds them, and some strange
things are found "every day.
Fully entitled to a place as an
unusual occupation is train barber
ing. It is no sinecure to play a
keen-edged razor while the car
swings from side to side. One of
the barbers on the run from Port
land to Chicago rests by laying over
on an occasional trip and working
In a local sh' p. I .
His traveling place o'f business is
J in the parlor car and he works from
, . , ...otl.,
early morn to late at night, mostly
by appointment. Describing the
difficulties of the work he told how
it took months to get accustomed
Lto conditions. lr the ordinary shop
the barber's feet only have to sup
port his body, on a train they not
only hold the man up but act as
braces in addition. Eye. ear and
limbs have to be in accord. The ear
catches the sound pf the coming air
In the brakes before the brake
shoes grip the wheels and the legs
brace the body to meet the coming
shock long, before it arrives.
With the ear ever alert to catch
the sound of the locomotive whistle
warning before stops the. barber
works with every nerve tense, far
different and more exhausting than
in the iity shop. And the impulse
is to keep the tools in time with
the "clackety-clack" of the wheels
as they strike the rail joints and
the faster the train moves the
faster the barber works. He can't
help it. J ,-.
The train strikes a curve un4 he
sways against the swerve to lean
back when the trucks swing it back
to' the straight course once more.
All the time swinging his razor with
care and precision and never nick
ing a patron's face. Man certainly
is an adaptable animal.
whi;
He laid his cheek against a tree's rough
trunlc
And stroked ttu bark and spoke caress
Ingly.
When he came back from hospital. Yet
he
Still bore the mark of some tree'
. enmity.
He came Into the bunkhouse and he said,
"I'm glad I'm back to hear the whistles
blow.
To see the cables gliding to and fro.
To hear the swishing treetops crash
lng low.
Now
why should
back ?
he rejoice at being
The . work was
like a sty;
hard, the bunkhouse
The risk was great he'd been abou
to die:
Then why should he be glad? Yes,
why?
CHARLES O. OLSEN.
It's odd how some seemingly
trifline circumstances in your life
will ever be with you as a re
membrance. Chris Schmidt of the
state ' fish commission, as fine
sportsman as there is in the country,
treasures the reeolleition of a cer
tain breakfast he once had in the
Hotel Nicollet, Minneapolis. Just
how many years ago it was doubt
ful, but 20 at least. Schmidt was in
the Minnesota metropolis on a busi
ness trip, hungry as a hunter after
the long, tiresome trip on the rail
road. "That breakfast, it was a miracle,
it never can be forgotten," and
though the meal was two decades
aeo he smacked his lips in re
membrance. "It wasn't a heavy one,
but it hit the spot. Wall-eyed pike,
and such- pike. Perfectly cooked,
fresh 'and garnished with a sprig
of parsley. I have been a firm
friend of the pike ever since.
French-fried potatoes and an ex
cellent cup of coffee nade up the
meal, but afterwards I went out
Into a rosy world and never felt
happier in my life. Good meals can
make a man successful and indiges
tion ruin him in every way."
Though ifs a difficult thing to do
we have to confess that our contest
for -the ugliest man in the state is
an abject failure. It seems as if
Oregon men were in the same class
with . the women, very few ugly
ones. Outside of scattering nomina
tions, admittedly startling. Interest
is lagging in the search. There can
be little competition where only
half a dozen entries are received
like would be the case . were
there several thousand competitors.
Homely men have many fine points,
however. They make the best of
' husbands. Aek any of our wivea.
Agates.
By ;rnre K. Hall.
- ( Quaint miniatures that lie within
the varicolored rock.
My eyes behold in you the
art of
'mystic workers' hands;
You are as definite as- our painted
canvases.
As deftly outlined as the etching
we so prize,
And al) the skill our masters strlv.
for through long years
Is blended In your colors, glorious!.
And yet unless we shall Iium
sometime dreamed
Of coral reefs, blue lakes and quaint,
fantastic forms, '
Have visioned beauties that the
tieedless throng sees not.
And nurtured In our souls a love of
Nature's handiwork
And whimsical oddities bestrewn on
every ocean beach.
We shall not fathom your unpol
ished surfaces.
Nor feast upon the pictures hidden
in your hearts.
Most truly do we know that beauty
must exist
First within a human soul ere eyes
can trace Its form.
And. that too few too few indeed
go out upon dream shores.
Or even walk the near "rock
dens" of the streams
Where you await with priceless pic
tures rare.
To please the vision-seeing eyes of
beauty-loving men.
XIGHTKAI.L.
In summer silence, feathered twigs
inquire.
With groping tendrils In the misty
dusk.
In silence hazy light appears
Within small, huddled homes that
upward fling
Their hearthflre smoke to climb the
clouds.
And, gibbering, a clinging wind
creeps forth,
Ejected from damp caverns of the
night.
Afar and faint the murmur of a
crowd
A distant city where chaotic sounds
Of jigging melodies, the clang of
cars
And shouts of human voices dwin
dle down
Into the ghost of sound, to float
upon
The quiet hills and stir the droop;
iug air
With half-felt notes of tragedy.
Now, like the wane of life, the night
sinks low.
While duskily the shadowed grasses
blow, '
.And starkly st-ind the trees; the
' solemn hills
Are petrified, a'nd with Impassive
face
The blinking ,ky observes.
Across the deep, dull void a church
bell rlnss.
And somewhere a lone cricket slncj.
KATHKYN KASTHAM.
TH K HILL.
1 W,M '"l UP mine eyp umo mo nm
fr, c,eih my help. I'nlin
U'l .1.
Oft. whin heart and brain are weary
With the trials that beset.
And the dav seems long and dreary.
Killed with things that chafe and
fret.
Then, when night, with gentle fin
gers All the land with shadow fills.
I go forth and in the twilight
Lift my eyes unto the hills.
Crowned with sunset's golden glory.
Towering toward the skies above.
Calm, majestic, never changing.
Type of God's eternal love.
Ar,d l' find my burdens dropping
While my heart with rapture
thrillo
As I pause there In the twilight
With my face toward the hills.
Ar.d some day, when I have Journ
eyed To the setting of the sun,
When, for me, the Joys and sorrows
Of life's little day are done.
When the shadows thickly gather
And youth's restless Impulse stills
I will, calmly, in the twilight,
. Lift mv eyes unto God's hills.
GRACE PADDOCK EDGERTON.
HHKI1K IS Ollt IlHKADf
The night Is wild, and rough the
untried way;
Weary the dawn returns with her
reluctant tread;
Famished, we faint before the com
ing day ,
Where is our bread?
Where is the food to feed the hun
gry heart
That for man's loveless, hoarded
feast in vain has plead?
Where Is the faith, fresh 'courage
to impart?
Where ia our bread?
In kindly deeds that blossom, all
unsought;
In humble words of love that are
not left unsaid;
In flame of hope, to life's dead fires
brought
This is our bread.
In strength, upholding weakness,
with her cross;
In Joy new risen, where despair
had long lain dead;
In peace' that knows not grief, nor
pain, nor los
This Is our bread.
MARY ALETHEA WOODWARD.
RIVALS.
A daffodil bowed its golden head
To the violet, fragrant and blue:
A little forget-me-not turned and
said:
"I'm remembered longer than
you."
A blushing rose, unfolding
Its petals soft and pink.
Had whispered to the daisy.
Til be a bride, I think."
A red-faced poppy, looking at them
With a rather contemptuous
glance.
Said: "I'm more important than any
of you
I cover the graves in France."
A bunch of sweet carnations
Then said a word or two:
We cover the graves of the heroes
at home.
Who, died for the Red. White and
Blue."
A tall and stately lily.
With petals pure and white.
Said: "I'm like the flowers that
on(
ago
Bloomed by the tomb of Christ."
BETH JOHNSON.
THE PROMISK.
The twilight shadows lengthen,
The winds have sunk to rest,
The gold and crimson linger
Upon the mountain crest.
Slowly the darkness deepens.
Home-coming calls are heard
From o'er the distant hills
Of the belated bird.
Hast thou wandered far and lonely.
Amid the toil and care,
Met the many disappointments
That every life must bear?
Although we go forth weeping.
And the heart in sadness grieves;
The promise is we shall return,
Bringing in the sheaves.
rN. S. KEASBT.