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McCORMICK MESSENGER, McCORMICK, SOUTH CAROLINA Thursday, August 5, 1937 fcctUKMICK MESSENGER Published Every Thursday Established Jane 5, EDMOND J. McCRACKEN, Editor and Owner totered at the Posi Office at Me Cermick. S. C., as mall matter of the second class. KVBSCKIPTION RATES: One Year $1.00 6bc Months .75 Three Months .50 Sunday School Lesson BY REV. CHARLES E. DUNN God Frees a People. Lesson for August 8th. Exodus 16:11-20. Golden Text: James 1:17. The journey of God’s people through the wilderness was one of continual hardship. At first they had no water and therefore chided Moses with the plaintive query, “What shall we drink?” Then they lacked bread, and hunger sorely vexed their jaded spirits. In bitter ness of soul they complained against Moses to Aaron, but their wail of woe was really directed against God Himself whose good- . ness they had so quickly forgotten. In answer to their cry the Lord sent a mysterious, white food call ed manna with the flavor of honey. Note how generous was the provi dential visitation, for the manna was better v than the bread they had wanted. But we must not sup pose that this manna was a miracle in the sense of being a new and exceptional product supematurally created. For it seems clear that it was a species of tamarisk which grows to this day in the Sinaitic Peninsula. But this natural origin does not mar the wonder of it, for all food, essentially, is a heavenly gift. Three lessons are taught by this quaint old story. First of all, the Sanctity of the Sabbath day is stressed. No manna fell on the Sab bath, but to atone for this lack, twice as much fell the day before. It is plain that the Sabbath was precious to those Jewish pilgrims. Secondly, the principle is laid down that everyone must do his fair share of the common work. All participated in the collecting of the manna. Best of all the s^ory reminds us that we are dependent upon God for the miracle of our daily bread. “Every good and perfect gift is frqm abotte,” as cur Golden Text declares. And Jesus teaches us, in His model prayer, to say, “Give Us this day our daily bread,” the im plication of which is that our nour ishment, which we so often take for granted, is really a blessed do nation from our Maker. Requeen Hives In Late Summer Clemson, July 31.—Requeening the beehives, which Ned Prevost, extension bee specialist, advises during August and early Septem ber, is an essential job before bees go into the winter. The reason he explains thus: The old queen in the hive is worn out, having laid thus far into -the season. If she is left in the hive she will not lay enough eggs before fall to rear a strong colony of young bees to go into winter quarters. It is only by going into vlnter with strong young bees that the hive will come out next ipring in good condition to gather '«y. ? ic. ost prints out that the hard- i ;; nr', of ^queening is getting ^ ~ old qiu’en out of the hive, es- >>fjy h * ier2 is no queen ex- c der in the hive, and advises <;'.e i tills /natter. Wiim the old queen has been l^ur.d and k.llej, the cage con taining the new queen is placed in the hive with the candy end where Lne bees in the hive can get to it <atily and cat it out and thus re lease the queen from the cage. Prevost suggests that after five < ays u: disturbed the hive may iJten be opened to remove the cage if * he queen has been released. Practical methods of handling Lees arc given simply and briefly Ly Mr. P~evr t in Ex'en non Cir cular 1£'J, Z2C Culture. £vil Tongue Is Cured in an Odd Fashion in India In certain parts of India many failures in life are attributed to the “evil tongue.” The evil tongue means harping on misfortune, talk ing evil of others or telling secrets. There are several magic formulas for removing the effects of the evil tongue. One is to make a mud figure and place thorns over its mouth. Those who have suffered from the evil tongue walk round the figure beating their mouths with their hands. The greater the noise the sooner the tongue is silenced. Cut ting a chicken’s neck and allowing it to flutter about is another way of silencing the tongue. Still another way according to a writer in Pearson’s London Weekly, is to make out of clay an effigy of the person who possesses the evil tongue. The tongue protrudes from the mouth of the effigy and after it is spat upon by the infuriated crowd it is hacked off with a knife. The criminal classes of India have their own code of magic. The eight eenth day of the month is the luck iest day for committing crimes. For burglary to be successful it must be done during the new moon. Friday is not a good day for break- 1 ing into the home of a rich man. To be sure of good results the burglar performs a ritual before breaking into a house. A long strand 1 is pulled out of a broom and at the end of it are tied several smaller strands which have been dipped in oil. If the strand floats on water there is no need to wofrry; but if it sinks the burglary must be post poned. Giant Fear Everywhere; It Cannot Be Banished Fear stalks the earth — stalks through crowded street, steals into quiet homes, just as it strides the lonely places. Only it is very often a different sort of fear. There is the rude fear of the lonely places and the fear with a keen cutting edge amid^11 the refinement of civ ilization, Writes Roderick Rondom in Birmingham (Eng.) Post. Try as he will man cannot banish fear. He may do away with one sort of fear only to discover that another sort has silently crept in to take its place. The more he widens the range of his activities, the high er the civilization he creates, the more does he enlarge the field of his fears. Primitive men had a few imme diate and pressing fears, mainly those arising from the dangers that beset him in his hunting abroad, or by his own rude hearth. We had other and more remote fears—those associated with the unknown, and things he could not comprehend, and they were many. The more civilized people become, the better are they able to overcome those primitive fears that have to do with their bodily safety, which was the chief concern of men a thousand years ago. Our reactions to fear are curious. The child frightened in the dark hides herself under the bedclothes. In the enclosed and intense dark ness of the bed she seeks to escape the lesser but wider darkness of the bedroom. Roads By GRACE D. GOODRIDGE © McClure Newspaper Syndicate. , WNU Service. That Classy Mrs. Jones By GERTIE KANGAS McClure Newspaper Syndicate. WNU Service. Selfish Man By M. D. CALDWELL i McClure Newspaper Syndicate. WNU Service. Bagpipes Once Used in AH Parts of the World In England it is sometimes im agined that the Scots and Irish are the only people on earth who play bagpipes. But this is not so. The instrument is indigenous to a great many mountainous tribes in all parts of the world, according to a writer in Tit-Bits Magazine. It is of great antiquity, and the “organ” mentioned in Genesis 4: 21, is derived from the Hebrew word “ueah.” which is a set of pipes in serted in a wind-bag and blown by the mouth. Later, the Egyptians modified it and used bellows. But 'in India, Afghanistan, Persia, Cen tral Asia, and Turkestan, tribes have worn the kilt since time immemo rial and played on instruments like the bagpipe. The bagpipe was one of the favor ite musical instruments of ancient Greece a^d Rome, and appears on a coin of the Emperor Nero, who was an accomplished performer. In the Midi’s ages it was used throughoat Europe in monasteries to accompany religious chants, and the Scots pipes are very much like the Swiss “dudelsack,” the French “musette,” and the Ukrainian “dudy.” Growths at Hish Altitude Though buffeted by fierce winds and storms and victims of the in tense co!d. trees persist in Rocky Mountain National park up to an altitude of approximately 11.000 feet. The dwarfed and twisted trunks of those to be found at “tim ber-line - ’ bear mute witness to the severity of their determined strug gle for existence, while occasionally a big spruce will be found lying flat on the ground like a vine. Yet this is not the limit of growing things, so far as this mountainous country is concerned, for many of the 600 species of wildflowers native ! to the region may be found above timber-line; while numerous shrubs and willows of true arctic species thrive above the line of the last oi the trees. The Philosophic Hand The Philosophic hand is bony and long with finger joints which pro trude like the knots in a piece of wood. The fingers also take on this bony, knotted appearance and they are always as long as, if not longer than, the palm itself, according to a writer in Pearson’s London Week ly. This is the hand of the student and the reasoner, who likes to work out his own theories and who is not content to be guided by others unless he has proved their state ments to his own satisfaction. Hav ing an exclusive, ascetic outlook on life, one insists on developing his mentally to the utmost and displays great carefulness in all he does. Ancient Olympics Were of a Religious Nature During Greece’s golden years a world armistice was proclaimed by the three chief priests before Olym pic games competitions were held. The first Olympic games were as sociated closely with religion and the opening day of the competitions always was devoted to holy rites. The games regularly were carried on until the conquest of Greece by the Romans who prevented the com petitions as a precautionary meas ure. All public reunions at first were prohibited until 393 A. D. The first Olympic games had one refefee known as the Hellanodike. The fif tieth Olympiad saw the introduction of a second Hellanodike. Subse quently the games became more complicated and the Hellanodiki be came ten. i The Hellanodiki wore official scar let robes during the games which lasted 30 days compared with 15 days of competitions in the more recent meetings. Their seats were higher than those of the spectators. Largest Collection of Bells The largest and most valuable collection of bells in the United States, if not in the world, is at Riverside, California, in the fa mous Glenwood Mission Inn, which houses also a notable collection of art treasures. There are more than 600 bells at Riverside and they are constantly being added to. Nearly all have interesting histories. They represent every country, era, creed and purpose, and the strange sym bols cast on them, the ornate de signs, filigree and relief motifs, dates, names and inscriptions that many of them bear are fascinating. From about the Sixteenth to the Eighteenth centuries bells were hung amid much ceremony. They were christened, dedicated, blessed and even anointed with oil. And bells are not always in the conven tional shape. Crown Colony of Leeward Islands The crown colony of Leeward Is lands, of which Antigua forms a part, is a group of islands in the Caribbean sea. For administrative purposes the colony is divided into five presidencies, Antigua, Domin ica, Montserrat, St. Christopher, and the Virgin islands. The presi dency of Antigua includes the is lands of Antigua, Barbuda, and Re- donda. The first settlements date back to 1632, and the island has been in English hands almost con tinuously since that time. The Psychic Hands The Psychic hands are found but rarely. They have the length and beauty of the Conic type, but are extremely frail-looking and thin. They appear as if they would break in pieces if one were to place any great strain upon them, says a writ er in Pearson’s London Weekly. These are the people who must live on the beauties of a spiritual exis tence. The world with its roughness and jostle completely overlooks and fails to understand them. This type of person is generally psychic. Their close connection with the things of the other world frequently gives them the gift of visions and prophecy. Swayed always by spir itual considerations, they look at everything with the eyes of the soul, and are rebuffed by crudeness in any form. The Allegheny River The Allegheny river rises in the high, hilly plateau region of Potter county, Pa., and flows in a general north-westerly direction and cross es into New York, to a point eleven miles north of the state line. Here it turns abruptly southwest, recrosses the stateline into Pennsylvania and continues in that state to its conflu ence with the Monongahela at Pitts burgh. | Mystery of the Moas Centuries ago, moas were plenti ful in New Zealand, for their bones have been found in caves and swamps all over the country. The mystery is why the moas perished, and when. Scientists say there is no doubt that moas existed when the brown skinned Maoris settled in New Zealand about the time the Norman kings were ruling England. It seems as if the moas were exterminated by the Maori hunters, perhaps cen turies before the European explor ers visited New Zealand. One of Smallest Islands Kingman Reef, one of the small est islands in the Pacific, is a strip of sand rising scarcely three feet above high water, and only ninety feet wide and 120 feet long. It is ap proximately 1,100 miles southwest of Honolulu, and is part of the territory of Hawaii. The strip, tops a coral reef which incloses a shel tered lagoon. 'T'HE only reason Little Jim was glad when it came time for the beds to be made up in the car was because Dad had more time to say “pieces” for him then. He liked the one best about the roads and homes, especially the lines “I never have seen a vagabond who really liked to roam “All up and down the streets of the world and not to have a home”; and he would lie quietly in his cot and think how like that vagabond he was. He could dimly remember that once he had lived in a real house; it was before mother died and there had been chickens and a little brov/n dog. but that had been only for a very little while. Since then there had been just roads, al ways the roads that never led to a home for Dad and him. Sometimes when Dad stopped to trade with the farmers’ wives, some woman would look kindly at little Jim and say to Dad: “Is that your little boy?” and Dad would reply with such pride, “Yes, Ma’am; I don’t believe I could get on at all without him,” and perhaps the woman would say, “Well, it’s pret ty nice to have him with you, of course, but he should be in school,” and then Dad would laugh his jolly laugh and tell her that traveling gave one a good education. Often he saw children scampering home from school at night and his throat had a queer ache. Of course it was fine being with Dad all the time, and there were days when the car rolled along so steadily, and the country shone and the wind was soft and warm; when people were kind and business was good and Dad sang in his rollicking voice. But the nights were always waiting, and then the longing for a place where they could just stay for a time be came more acute. Then came a wet, cold spring, when for days they drove through a chilling rain. Business was bad and Dad forgot to sing, and even the verses he said at night didn’t sound the same, and Little Jim tried in vain to make himself warm in the damp bedding. It was the third week of such weather, and one morning Little Jim tried to get out of bed as usual, but his body ached so badly he fell back with a groan. His head ached, too, and when he shut his eyes they burned so he was glad to open them again. Then, all at once, the inside of the car seemed to turn into a little house with a warm, white bed just inside the door. He tried hard to reach it, but Dad’s arms caught him instead, and Dad’s voice, with a queer sound in it, was saying over and over again, “Little Jim! Little Jim! Speak to me.” He tried to answer, but his throat felt too thick and sore. Then he felt himself being wrapped up in many blankets and fastened secure ly in the seat beside Dad and they were moving faster than he ever remembered moving before. - An hour later, Big Jim rushed in to a hospital with his little son in his arms. *■ Little Jim found himself in a clean, white room, where his aching little body was put into a soft bed. He heard a dim sound of voices, ♦hen drifted into a land where suf fering and home were strangely mixed. There were times after that when he came back to the white room and found Dad beside him, and he tried to tell him of the little house and the dog and chickens; but, somehow, it only seemed to make him feel bad, so at last he just lay there and looked at Dad as though he could never look enough. Then came a day when he was back in the white room to stay and the pain and the homes both were gone. Dad couldn’t stay with him so much now. for he told Little Jim that the farmers’ wives would want new dishes to use and that he and Little Jim needed their money. Al though he missed Dad terribly he thought of the time when he would have only the car for a home again, and often the tears slid softly down on the pillow. At last thay said he could go away from the hospital. Dad , came for him early and the doctors and nurses patted him and kissed him good-by and Dad carried him to the car. Somehow the car looked dif ferent, but he didn’t have much time to look at it, for Dad lifted him to the seat and made so many jokes he laughed until his sides ached. They drove quite a distance out of the town and up a long hill, and right on the top of the hill was a little white house and Dad drove in the yard and lifted him down. Then Dad unlocked the door and led him in and asked him how he liked it because that was where they were going to live. There was even a brown dog who leaped about him and licked his hands. For a long moment Little Jim looked at Dad and Dad looked back, so pleased and happy, though tears were thick in his eyes; then Little Jim said very softly, in an awe struck voice, “Why Dad, it’s a home!” Liberty Bell Duplicated At Kovno, in Lithuania, therr is a duplicate of our Liberty Bali pre sented by American Lithuanians to the newly - born nation after the World war. “XT OW, ain’t it awful, the way that Mrs. Jones carries on? Ever since she came here two .months ago, she’s tried to show us what she calls class. Poof! Won der how she earns her living? What made her come to this small town in the first place? She must have done something wrong, or else she wouldn’t have hid herself up here.” Little Mrs. Peabody stopped for breath and to watch the effect of her words on the eagerly listening group. “Is she good-looking?” Lindy Mil ler inquired of Mrs. Peabody. “Good-looking? Humph! You’d have to dig down deep to find out how she looks, after all the paint and powder she uses. And the ear rings!” * “They were much too large,” agreed Mrs. Holden, wife, of the sheriff and an important member of the social life of the town. “And them shoes,” Mrs. Peabody went on. “Did you notice the heels? I’d say they were three inches high, at least. And the way she wobbles on them! No self-re specting woman acts like that.” “O-oh,” exclaimed Lindy Miller, “there she’s coming now!” They all turned to look at the fig ure approaching down the street. “Heavens,” Mrs. Peabody mut tered, “she ain’t coming here, is she?” As if to satisfy the curiosity of the group, Mrs. Jones opened the gate and came up the walk, up the steps, and right onto the porch. The ladies set down their cups and gazed at this brazen woman. She turned to Mrs. Mason and said in a drawly manner, “I am aw fully sorry, Mrs. Mason, to come on you like this. I thought it would be the easiest way to get acquaint ed with my neighbors.” Mrs. Mason stared impolitely at the intruder. Then, remembering that she was hostess, smiled and motioned her to a chair. “Won’t you please sit down, Mrs. Jones?” and as the latter accepted the proffered chair, Mrs. Mason in troduced ner to the others. The afternoon dragged by slowly. An eavesdropper would not have recognized this quiet group as the same that had chatted so busily a short time before. Finally, to the relief of all the others, Mrs. Jones got up and said she must go. “I’ve had a perfectly lovely time,” she exclaimed, as she held out her hand to Mrs. Mason. “I want you all to come over to my house next week, Tuesday, for lunch.” With that she departed and they watched her until she disappeared. “Well, ain’t that just like her!” snapped Mrs. Peabody. “To drop in on us as though she’d known us always. Is that etiquette? She ain’t been invited, either!” “Hasn’t she got a queer voice?” chimed in Mrs. Ruperts, sister to Mrs. Mason. “Seems as though she had false teeth.” “Maybe she has,” put in Mrs. Hol den. “They were so white and even.” “But I kind of like them earrings she had,” Lindy Miller said, ap provingly, “and they weren’t cheap.” Mrs. Mason had been silent and listened to every word. She was a good old soul at heart, even though the village social life had affected her outward manner somewhat. Tuesday afternoon Mrs. Jones greeted the group smilingly, intro ducing them to George Gregg, a publisher. “I am an author.” she began, “and my real name is Hedda Grover. I’ve been v/riting stories of city life and a few of the West. I have always felt a longing to write a book about a little town, to breathe of the coun try air.” She stopped to look at her listen ers and then turned to Mr. Gregg, who got up and continued: “She wrote the book and it was wonderful. It lacked only the real atmosphere. I advised Miss Grov er to go to some little town and see the life as it really is. She did, and rewrote parts of the book. Today I am convinced that it is one of her greatest works.” “And I have done a very unusual thing,” Hedda Grover went on. “I have dedicated the book to this vil lage so that you may all feel a part of it. When it is printed, I shall send each of you* an autographed copy, and I hope you will always remember me as a friend.” A few .weeks later, afternoon tea was being served at Mrs. Pea body’s. The group was busily dis cussing the same subject as pre viously, Mrs. Jones, alias Hedda Grover. “Now ain’t it wonderful of her to send us all a book!” Mrs. Lindy Miller cried. “And so nice of her to dedicate it to the village,” added Mrs. Hol den. “Did you notice that one of the women was named Peabody?” the lady of that name queried; and, as her head moved, the jet earrings moved also. “I am having a dress made just like that orange one of hers, with the black fringes,” Lindy Miller told them. And so the afternoon teas con tinued, and if Hedda Grover could hear the beautiful things said about her, she’d come right down and write another book, M ACHUGHIE slammed the door.: As he flung his giant frame around the corner of the little white .'house, a scowl of stubborn anger .distorted his strong features, made him look older than twenty-seven. He did not see the glassed porch, j ^with red geraniums between ruffied; white curtains; the huge clusters of; yellow chrysanthemums bobbing a; good morning; the fat cedars march-, ing along the driveway; the bluejays flashing the tiny patch of lustre sky between the yellowing birches. He saw only the unreasonable desires of his wife. Belle. It was October. Ever since March; Belle had harped on a new sink. He’ had worked for three years im- fproving the old house. But since he bought the flivver—if the bird who last owned it had had any pride, it wouldn’t be costing so much now! Although in his pocket there lay four skimped-out ten-dollar bills, Belle could use the iron sink for a long time yet! His mother had used it and his grandmother— That was a good argument; yet, her words returned: “I’ll wait for the gas, Jim, but I must have a white sink! You can’t know how .my world goes round the greasy corners of that ugly black sink!” Into the Melford Pumbing & Steamfitting company Jim darted, head-down. As he reached for his working-coat, the precious lump in his hip-pocket divided itself into an Automatic windshield-cleaner;. spot r ; parking, and stop lights; deflectors; bumpers. He would go to Boston the next Saturday— Stringer greeted blatantly. ** *Lo Jim! See the new bait this morn ing? No?”. Jim was not interested. He was wondering whether the front right 1 tire would go awhile longer, and' what about a new spare? With the discount at Handley’s— Stringer’s grumble irritated. “S’pose we’ll be puttin’ the blame things in fer weeks—” Jim turned. “What things? What , yer talkin’ about?” “Sinks! White enamel sinks! Win dow’s full of ’um. Forty dollars, in stalled! Applesauce!” Catching up his tool-bag Jim swung out, and down Main street. A boy looked from Jim’s blue eyes as he ambled under the red maples along Turner avenue and rang at Number 10, a magnificent Colonial house. It was a pipe, under the sink; nasty job. Through his wall of concentration a harsh female voice broke: “Well, yer kin git someone else! Was never I before insulted with an old rusty ! sink! ’S a wonder yer don’t ask me t’ cook in a brick oven—” j Jim’s loud hammering battered the new pipe. “Ah, wimtn’s cuckoo!” he exclaimed, j • Later the mistress’ voice came ! sobbing through the door: “How can I keep a modern cook ! Old gas range! Abominable sink!—and my allowance! Twenty-five’s ridiculous! Every girl at the club has fifty—” He was well satisfied with himself that night when he deliberately viewed the internal parts of his car-species at the flivver window, and later when he saw the sun spraying his house with warm fire light, glancing the windows like flame. A fickle breeze whisked the leaves about his feet, and the yellow chrysanthemums nodded good-eve ning. His kitchen enfolded him with cheery warmth. Belle lifted from the oil-stove oven a pan of golden- topped fluffs that were his biscuits. Their odor with the ham, baked in mustard and sugar, lifted Jim upon his own throne. But later the bend in Belle’s back as she sloshed the sudsy dish-water sent him into the dining-room. Yet he went to sleep thinking just how he would get out the in’ards of the old .car Saturday. JHe had raced his 40-dollar order around Handley’s newspaper ad till he was dizzy. Then came the struggle.The white sinks went like hot-cakes. Jim loved ;his work; loved ripping out the filthy pipes and placing new brass and as he entered the purpling driveway and faced the flame-windows, a de vastating genie crumbled his ac complishment. For in his own kitch en he would find the old sink still facing him. So, later, when he read Handley’s increasingly enticing ad, he clutched his pocket frantically. The Saturday noon whistle gave Jim a panicky sense of rush and stop, like crossing signal^ gone wild. He glanced at the shining tools in the Ford window on the run. As hie dashed out the shop-door, String er called, “Hey, Jim! There’s only one of the blame things left. I’ve half a mind to buy it for the wife—” Jim’s head urged, but his feet re fused to move. Stringer was haling the big boss. “What’s the price, to us?” The big boss smiled. “Oh, 30—” Jim heard his own voice yell, “Sold! To me!” and saw the pre cious wallet in his hand. Stringer’s jaw dropped, “Well! Of all the—” Belle was not at home. But her amazing note said, “It’j in,the pew- . ter bowl. I earned it. My decision favors the car, against the sink. Go right in to Handley’s. See you at 6.” Jim hailed Stringer mounting the truck. “Hey, Stringer! I’ll give yer a 10-spot if yer’ll place that sink this afternoon. I got t’ go in town! Hang it! These wimin’re always wantin’ aomethin’!”