The sun. [volume] (Newberry, S.C.) 1937-1972, October 01, 1953, Image 5
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 1. 1953
THE NEWBERRY SUN
PAGE FIVE
Casey At The Bat
By ERNEST THAYER
'‘-1 t • ( ,i 1! 11
) i i l: h
1 !i i
It
It H 1 K I
■j
oxtromoly r
Ocky tii
Mud'.;
. . ; 1
o nint.* that
day :
T
lu* .
stood tour
To six.
blit .
I:
inning left
to play
And
m n < ’oouu v
died at
and 1
> .1
trows did tli
le same
A
pa 1 }< r
\\ reathvd tin
featuri
thu P
( 1 l
rous of the
game.
A
st rag
gl
dug few go
; up ti
h-a \ i 4 .
a
thero the r
e-t.
\Y
ith t: -.
•
hope wh'ch
springs
m;l w
’ T
hill the human bre;
For th*
Thought if
only (
(• () u i (!
u
* t a whack
at that
T1
Iie> '<i
V
it up even
money
• ’ the ha t.
But F >
4 r .
preceded
("a.-ey.
(ji
tru.
ft «)'-
u ith
! i k ► • v
■ n did Rlake.
.And ike 4 • iner was a pudding and
was a take;
stricktni multitude a
silence sat.
■enied but. little chancy
tin
iso on
dea; i
For t:. ■
a;: (
a'
of ('apex's aett inn. to the tiat
But
drive a sin ale to the
wonderment of all.
And i: e much despised Blakey
lor* in* cover off the hall.
And when the dust, had lifted and
they saw what had occurred
There was Blakey safe on second
and Flynn a-hutryiny third.
Then troni the yladdeiied multi
tude went up a joyous yell.
It hounded from the mountain top
and rattled in the dell.
It struck upon the* hillside aid
rebounded on the flat.
For Casey, mighty Casey, was ad
vancing to the hat.
There was ease in Casey's man
ner as lie stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey’s bear
ing. and a smile on Casey’s face;
And when responding to the
cheers; he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could
doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.
Ten thousand eyes were on him as
he rubbed his hands with dirt,
P^ive thousand tongues applauded,
as he wiped them on his shirt,
And while the writhing pitcher
ground the ball into his hip.
Definanee gleamed from Casey’s
eye, a sneer curled Casey’s lip.
And now the leather-covered
And ('ascy Hood a watchilm i! in
haughty grandeur {her<*;
Close by the sturdy batsman tht>
ball unheeded .sped
■'That haiu’t my style. " said Casey.
‘"Strike one C the u in pi re said.
From the bleachers black with
people there aro<e a sullen roar,
I.ike the beating of the storm
waves on a stern and distant
shore.
Kill him! Kill the umpire’”
shouted someone troni the stand
And it’s likely they’d have done it
had not Casey raised his hand.
With a smile of Christian charity
great Casey's visage shorn*;
He st i! led the rising tumult and
he bade the game go on ;
He signalled to the pitcher and
again the spheroid flew.
But Casev still ignored it. and the
umpire said. “Strike two!"
“Fraud!"’ yelled the maddened
thousands, and the ec ho answer
ed “Fraud ' "
But one scornful look from Casey,
and the audience was awed.
They saw IBs face grow stern and
cold ; they sa w hi- muscles i
•st ra in.
Ami they knew that C.mey would
not let that bail go by again.
The sneer is gone from Casey's j
1 i p’s
his teeth are clinched with hate.
He pounds with cruel violence his [
bat upon the plate;
And now the pitcher holds the ball,
and now he lets it go.
And now the air is shattered by th e
force of Casev’s blow!
I
Oh! somewhere in this favored land
the . un is shining bright.
The band is playing somewhere, j
and somewhere hearts are light, j
And somewhere men are laughing, ^
and somewhere children shout, j
But there is no joy in Mudville —
mighty Casey has struck out.
FLOWERS FOR TILLIE
By John Connolly
Italy is expected to have a tele
vision network in operation in the
near future. We call interference
on our set ‘‘hash.’* Will they
call theirs “speghetti”?
J ANHT opened the door almost
before the bell had stopped ring
ing. She smiled pleasantly at the
short, thin young man with the
startled expression who stood in
the hallway.
“Oh,” said the young man.
"Why you must be the Killer,”
said Janet excitedly. “Come in,
come in. Sit down a minute and
I’ll get your flowers.”
“Killer? Flowers?” the young
man stammered. “I’m looking for
Miss Tillie Rogers.”
“Oh, I forgot,” Janet said. “You
don’t know yet, do you?”
“Don’t know what?” the young
man asked as he stepped inside.
He looked fully puzzled.
“Well, you see, it’s this way,”
Janet began chattering away. “My
name’s Janet Clark, and Tillie and
I work in the same store down-
town. She’s been looking for an
other place to live for months; and
we had an agreement that if she
found one I could move in here.”
“Then she’s moved.”
“Yes.” Janet continued. “Yes
terday she found the cutest little
apartment, just what she wanted.
She had to occupy the new place
right away, so we helped move
each other this morning. Now
Tillie’s out of here and I’ve taken
over.” Janet smiled happily as she
talked, as if moving into a new
apartment were one of life’s more
joyous occasions. “Your flowers
came this afternoon,” she said.
“The delivery boy just handed them
over and I thought they were for
me, so I opened them by mistake.
They’re very nice. Killer.”
The young man sat awkwardly
on the divan, his cheeks growing
redder while Janet talked.
Janet rattled on. “If I could only
remember her darned new address,
but I have a terrible memory. And
the landlady doesn’t know either.
I guess we’ll have to wait until
tomorrow unless she phones me or
something,” she said contritely.
Then, looking appraisingly at her
visitor, she added, “I must say
you don’t look much like a heavy
weight boxer. Killer. You don’t
have any marks on your face or
anything, and you don’t look very
heavy to me. I suppose a fighter’s
looks are deceiving when he isn't
in the ring and wearing trunks and
all. Still . . .”
The young man fought a visible
struggle with his vocal apparatus
and finally found his voice again.
Showing signs of the strain, he
said in a high voice, “Listen,
there’s some misunderstanding
here. This killer business and the
flowers, I don’t know what you’re
talking about.
Janet’s eyes widened as she
looked at him, and she almost
shook her head chidingly. “You
just sit where you are,” she said.
“I’ll get them for you.”
Janet left the room through the
swinging kitchen door and returned
a moment later with a long narrow
box bearing the flourishing imprint
of “Vogel’s,” the finest florist in
town. She removed the cover and
handed the box to the young man.
“Liltte I said, I opened them by
mistake. I’m truly sorry. I thought
you’d be around to pick up Tillie,
so I kept the flowers for you.”
The young man stared at the
flowers, dumbly at first, and then
he took a card out of the box.
“Dearest Tillie,” it read. “Amer
ican Beauties for my favorite
American beauty, the most beauti
ful of them all. Hugs and kisses
and all my love, “Killer” Kovar-
sky. P. S. If that jerk Roger bothers
you again, phone me at once and
I’ll take care of him.”
The young man stopped reading
and snapped his head sharply, as
if to clear it. ‘‘I’ve got to be go
ing,” he said in his thin voice.
“Why Killer,” Janet exclaimed
as he opened the door.
“I’m not Killer,” he said before
bolting out. *Tm Roger.”
As the door slammed behind
him, Janet sank into the divan in
a fit of laughter. When she had
herself under control she shouted
toward the kitchen, “Okay, Tillie.
The roses worked, you can come
out now. The all clear just
sounded.**
ij
use China
to promote
Color
Harmony
Catholic Chaplain Dies As
Hero In Red ROW Crmp
VICTOR FA, a lovely
E at tern in subdued
ues from the Creative
Design Studios of
Syracti.se China.
T he muted, warm reds of this favored Syracuse Pattern
-—the echo of its greens^—the slight touches of gold
-—the whole pattern, so
exquisite in itself—instantly
stirs the decorator in you.
Vi ith just a pleasant hint of
frills, it will harmonize with
many styles and color schemes
—or it is equally adept at
contrasting. In either role, it
will enhance the charm of
your dining room decor. 1
Liberal Time Payment Plan
W. E. Turner
JEWELER
Caldwell St. Nawbcrry
INCHON. Korea. Two army
doctors tell the story of Father
Kmil Kapaun, a Roman Catholic
chaplain who died in a Red prison
camp a hero and a saint to the
men lie labored to help.
Fattier Kapaun. from Salina.
Kan., was captured Nov. 1, 1950,
deep in North Korea with a group
of trapped and wounded soldiers.
Capt. Clarence L. Anderson,
Long Beach, Calif., an army doc
tor who was taken prisoner at the
same time, said the priest’s ac
tion at that time probably saved
50 wounded m the trapped unit
from Chinese attack.
Father Kapaun came to a com
mand post turned into an aid sta
tion where Anderson was with a
group of wounded, gathered a doz
en men capable of walking, took
them out and surrendered to the
surrounding Chinese.
”1 heard later that Father Ka
paun told tiie Chinese there were
only wounded in the command
post and asked them to cease at-,
tacking. And they did leave it
alone and did not molest us.”
The chaplain and the Army doc
tor met again at notorious Pyok-
tong prison camp near the Man
churian border, where he helped
Anderson care for the sick and
wounded and said prayers for the
men—Catholic, Protestant or Jew.
Capt. Sidney Essensten of Min
neapolis. Minn., said the chaplain
insisted on going on work de
tails so he could visit men in other
camps up to the day he suffered
his fatal illness.
Father Kapaun first was strick
en by a blood clot in his leg. He
improved but a week before his
death he was stricken with dysen
tery. Prisoners gave him precious
sulfa tablets they had saved. Once
more he improved but then he
came down with pneumonia and
was removed to the camp hospital.
Anderson said that as the chap
lain was taken away to die he
smiled and waved and said lie
would conic hack soon.
He never did, but was taken
away to the camp cemetery on a
hill where—in Anderson’s words—
he ‘‘sleeps among the men he so
loved and so helped while he was
alive.”
”1 am a Jew.” spoke up Essen
sten, “but I felt deeply the great
ness of the man regardless of re
ligion.”
Anderson expressed his feelings
this way:
“He had no idea of personal fear
and his leadership was of the
hardest type* because he led
strickly by example.
“He’s more or less a saint. The
fact that he was a chaplain was
one aspect of his spiritual leader
ship. The other was the fact that
he was 100 per cent man.”
THE OLD
Waterwheel
Listen to tin* water mill,
Through the liv<* long day.
How the clicking of the wheel
Wears the hours away.
Longuidly. tlx* autumn wind
Stirs the withered leaves.
On the Held the reapers sing.
Binding up th-'. sheaves.
And a proverb haunts my mind.
And a spell is cast.
“The mill will never grind
With the water that is past.”
Summer winds revive no more
Leaves strewn o'er earth and
mam;
The sickle never more shall reap
The yellow-garnered grain.
And the rippling stream flows on
Tranquil, deep and still
Never gliding back again to the
Water Mill
Truly speaks the proverb old
With a meaning vast,
“The mill will never grind
With the water that is past.”
TAKE THE LESSON to thyself,
Loving heart and true,
Golden years are fleeting by,
Youth is passing too;
Learn to make the most of life;
Lose no happy day.
Time will ne'er return again
Sweet chances thrown away.
Leave no tender word unsaid,
But love while love shall last,
“The mill will never grind
With the water that is past.”
Work, while yet the sun doth
shine.
Men of strength and will;
Never does the streamlet glide
Useless by the mill.
Wait not ‘til tomorrow’s sun
Beams brightly on thy way,
All that thou canst call thine own
Lies in this word, “Today,”
Power, intellect and health.
Will not always last;
“The mill will never grind
With the water that is past.”
OH! THE wasted hours of life
That have swiftly drifted by!
Oh! the good we might have done!
Gone, lost without a sigh!
Love that we might once have
saved
By a single kindly word;
Thoughts conceived, but ne’er ex
pressed.
Perishing unpenned, unheard.
Oh, take the proverb to thy soul,
Take and clasp it fast,
“The mill will never grind
With the water that is past.”
Oh, love thy God and fellow-man,
Thyself consider last.
For come it will when thou must
scan
Dark errors of the past;
And when the fight of life is o’er,
And earth recedes from wiew,
And heaven in all its glory
Shines ’midst the good, the pure,
the true;
Then you will see more clearly,
The proverb deep and vast,
“The mill will never grind
With the water thas is past.”
Frances Marion Simpson
“DA PREEM” IN FILM . . . Prtmo Camera, former heavyweight
boxing champion, dons costume for movie role, aided by technical
advisor Hilda Grenier. Primo, who’s been doing a lot of wrestling,
plans to make movie of his life, in Italy. ^ . __
Hospital Births
PAYSINGER
; Mr. and Mrs. Gerald (' Pay
! -tager are rec eiving congratula
tions upon the arrival of their
third daughter. Alice* Louise, six
pounds six ounces, horn at the*
i Newberry Memorial Hospital on
1 Sarnia y. September “Tth.
! The Paysingers other two
I daughters art* Nancy, seven years
old and Jam* who is three.
LOMINACK
Mr. ami Mrs. W. Frank Loini
nark. Jr.. 11?!< Hunt street, an
nounce the birth of a six pound
one and one fourth ounce daugh
ter. Bonnie Lynn, who arrived at
tile Newberry Memorial Hospital
un Wednesday, September A’.rd,
RYDER
Mr. ami Mrs. F. L. Ryder. Carol
Courts Apt. C 'I 'l, are the proud
parents of a six pound daughter,
Catherine Jeanette, who arrived
at. the local hospital on Sunday,
September 27th.
STUCK
.Mr. and Mrs. K. H. Stuck, New
berry. announce the birth of a
six pound four ounce daughter,
Marianne, born in the Newberry
Memorial Hospital on Sunday,
September 27th.
METTS
Mr. and Mrs. W. O. Metts. Rt.
4, Saluda, announce the* birth of
a seven pound twelve ounce
daughter, Debra Marlene, who ar
rive at tiie local hospital on Sat-
urday. September 2(ith.
Methodist Circles
To Meet Monday
Central Methodist church circles
of the Woman’s Society of Christ
ian Service will meet as follows:
Circle No. 1—Mrs. J. R. Boozer,
1S27 Harrington St., Monday, Oct.
5th at 4 p.m. Miss Myra Boozer,
associate hostess.
Circle No. 2 -Mrs. Seth Meek,
1901 Harrington St., Monday, Oct.
5th 4 p.m.
Circle No. 3—Mrs. W. O. Miller,
1505 Johnstone St., Tuesday, Oct.
Oth 10:30 a.in. Mrs. William Bu
ford, associate hostess.
Circle No. 4 Julia White—Mrs.
Vernon Clamp, 1008 Boundary St..
Monday, Oct. 5, 8:00 p.m. Mrs.
James Clamp, associate hostess.
Circle No. 5—Mrs. George W.
Martin, 1919 McHardy St., Mon
day, Oct. 5, 10:30 a.m. Mrs. Dr.
V. W. Rinehart, associate hostess.
Circle No. 6 Louise Best—Mrs.
P. M. Dennis, 2016 Mower St.,
Monday, Oct. 5, 4 p.m. Mrs. Hol
land Sligh, associate hostess.
DANCE
ROUND AND SQUARE
at ARMORY
WHITMIRE, S. C.
Friday, Oct. Z-9 til 12
Featured Drummer — Harold Taylor
SPENCER TAYLOR AND THE
RHYTHM BOYS
The Bigest Little Band in the Land
Sponsored by The Whitmire
American Legion
. Iiiiu iinciiuj
THE OPENING IN NEWBERRY OF
Newberry Memorial
Gardens
Located On U. S. Highway 76, Two Miles South On
Columbia Road
Watch This Newspaper
For Announcement Of
Complete Details
Newberry Memorial
Gardens
“The Cemetery With Perpetual Care”