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. The Oregonian is a member of the As sociated Press. The Associated Prena is exclusively entitled to the use for publi cation of all news dispatcher credited to it o not otherwise credited in this paper and aio the local news published tieretn. All rights of publication of special dis patches herein are aieo reserved. Subscription Kates Invariably In Advsutkc. (By Mail.) Daily, Sunday included, one year $8.M) Dally, Sundav included, iix months .. 4.2. Iaily, Sunday included, three months 2.23 Daily, Sunday included, one month .. Daily, without Sunday, one year ..... 6.00 Daily, without Sunday, six months . . 3.23 Daily, without Sunday, one month . . 60 ' Sunday, one year 2.50 Rv r'ai-i-i! . Daily, Sunday included, one year... laily, Mimlay Included, three months 2.23 Pally. Sunday included, one month.. .75 l'aily. without Sunday, one year.... 7.0 I'aily, without Sunday, three months 1.95 Dally, without Sunday, one month.. .65 How to Remit Send postof flee money order, express or personal check on your local hank, Stamps, coin or currency are at owner's risk. Give postoffice address In ru.l. including county and state. Postage Kates 1 to 18 paves, cent; IS to 3- pa??s. 2 cents: 34 to 4S Paxes. 3 cents: 50 to 64 pages, 4 cents: 66 to 80 pages. 5 cents: 82 to 96 pagea. 6 cents. Kafctern Business Of fie Verree & Oonkiln, 300 Madison avenue. New York; Verjree & Conklin, Steger building. Chi cago; Verree & Conklin, Free Press build ing. Detroit. Mich.; Verree A Conklin, - Monadnock bufiding, San Francisco. CaL 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.