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Michigan producer. Buying clubs and small Paterson, New Jersey, with forty-odd buying retailers in Eastern cities took the greater clubs, “ imports " butter at the rate of nine part of his output. He had no transportation thousand pounds per month direct from the charges to pay, no sales overhead expense, creamery. A little over two years ago no and, besides, he got fifteen per cent higher such direct market was available for the but. prices than ever before. Similar cases of profit ter manufacturers. to the farmer by this “ cutting across lots” It is of significance that the producer has to market his produce could be cited in found a way to market his stuff direct to conregard to the sale of eggs, maple syrup, sumers in the city, even if it be only a small vegetables, and cheese. For some time portion of his crop. For it tends to break the large creameries of Ohio and Indiana him away from the unfortunate notion that have been receiving orders direct from con- he is wholly dependent on the chain of midsumers' clubs and small retailers at the rate dlemen which looms up between him and what of forty thousand pounds per month—not an he considers a fair profit. If he chooses to enormous figure, considering the immense be a business farmer, a manufacturer of quantities of butter eaten, but none of this country produce with sales relations direct business existed heretofore. It is a direct trade with consumers' clubs or retailers, he has a and has sprung up and increased quickly, due fair chance to “ do it now" under the buying to the buying club movement. The city of

club patronage.








AVE you ever seen a man who had past the rear lines and encampments through been shot dead? Or, rather, have that zone I have heretofore described as

you ever entered a house in which being within reach of the long-range guns of a man had been murdered and the body of the enemy, and where civilians still prefer to the victim was still warm ? It is an unpleas- take the chance of an occasional bombardant picture to call up, but it is the only way ment to the severance of the old home ties. to give some idea of how it feels when you Now we were leaving all that behind us stealthily enter the town of X.

for more exposed highways. Where there It used to be a flourishing little Austrian was no shelter of wall or cover of trees on city before the war, alive and gay with a civic the highroad the military chauffeur would put life and a civic pride of its own. Then came on full power and the machine covered the the audacious dash of the Italians for the open stretch on racing time. It is really lower Isonzo, and the Austrian soldiers were wonderful how fast an automobile can be driven across the river. There they turned made to go when it is a question of dodging around under cover of their mountain for- shells ; it is a speed test which our automotresses and shot the little city dead. They bile selling agents might consider. might have stopped then, because it is just As we drove into the square of the murlike a corpse and cannot fight back even if it dered city a strange sensation seized one ; it would : but they have riddled its body time was very, very still, with houses which were and again, uselessly, cruelly, wickedly. more impressive because of their look of

I say this because I saw it done when I having been absolutely and hastily untenanted went to " view the body " as a sort of neutral than on account of their dismantled appearance. coroner, and these are my findings upon an In all this solitude a lone sentinel presented actual inspection.

arms to our colonel as we got out of the car. We had driven from Army Headquarters He was the only fighting man visible, and





of no military value, but he was guarding the example of how the Austrians make a civic corpse.

You looked down deserted streets, center of no military value uninhabitable with roses blooming on shattered walls ; noble when they have to give it up, merely through horse-chestnut trees with their white spring wantonness and the lust of destruction. I blossoms stood majestically still near roofless cannot pass on the justice of this complaint, houses ; you saw the well-laid-out little parks but apparently there was only a handful of of the town, cool and refreshing, but with the soldiers there, doing police duty, and absograss of the lawns grown high and ragged. lutely no artillery or defenses of any kind. A desperate loneliness was all around the The place lies on an open plain by a broad place.

river's edge where nothing can be masked. Over all this stillness there gripped at your We walked carefully about the town, with heart a strange, unexplainable feeling that the feeling that some terrible pest had ravyou were not alone in this solitude ; that aged its citizens and eaten like a gangrene at somewhere, perhaps under your feet or in

its very walls.

The havoc made by the mere the shelter of those trees, some one air suction of the Austrian three-hundredwatching.

and-fives is amazing, while some of the You could see nothing of human life except enemy's hits have caused the most bizarre the shell of its social expression ; there were wounds in certain buildings. Half a house churches with their carved doors nailed up, would be down, while the household effects there were public buildings with broken panes of the other half, although it was close to the and awnings in shreds, schools and asylums edge of the "smash,” were perfectly all right, with doors ajar and shutters thrown open, even the glass articles uninjured. Most of like corpses of dead men with their glassy, the house doors were ajar, and through them staring eyes turned towards the light. You one could see the furniture thrown about in missed the children at play, you missed the confusion ; or a wall would be left standing women at the thresholds of houses, you missed with carefully starched curtains at the windows every kind of human life in that deserted place as a frame for the vista of blue sky through the which was meant to be lived in. You missed roofless home. Alas for the loving hands the horses and the oxen, the rumble of carts, which had labored to make that home bright! the tread of feet. Had a dog jumped out From one of the houses came a few bars at you, it would have been like meeting a of music, a few cracked notes of a piano dear, beloved friend.

which had weathered the storm so far, The cannonading was a welcome break in touched by a passing soldier; the notes the silence, because it made you feel that, sounded like a mocking, derisive voice. after all, something was going on, and that Where bombs or shells had not struck, the that something was war, and not some secret, walls bore signs of rifle shots; and you could impenetrable, sinister action behind your gather handfuls of Austrian bullets along the back. That furtive sense which gripped us highways. We were ordered to keep close on our arrival had been awful ; it seemed so to the left of the streets and hug the walls, wretched to force this sort of a fate upon a so as not to be seen by the enemy on the trim, living town like this, a town which had near-by mountains ; a few days before the comfortably housed so many peaceful people Austrians had caught sight of a group of war and had obviously given her citizens so many correspondents and had poured shrapnel for legitimate pleasures and social advantages. two hours along their road of retreat, forcing

As you walked stealthily by its schools and the representatives of the mighty press to lie theaters, past its once busy shops and stores, flat on their stomachs till the fire had ceased. and gazed at its pleasantly gardened inns, all As we drew closer to the end of the town, snugly within its stout mediæval walls, the nearer to the enemy's lines, the houses were wretchedness of the fate visited upon it battered into all sorts of strange, dead attiseemed a great injustice. A new feeling tudes, like men you see on a battlefield after came upon me, a new realization of the truth : an assault on a wired intrenchment. The the little town, after all, had not been shot silence, when unpunctuated by the cannondead; it had been wounded and then buried ading, added to the awful brooding feeling alive. It had, I now perceived, some signs which seemed to hang stealthily and furtively of life, however weak, but it couldn't move; over everything. The scene was so oppressit did not have a chance to fight back.

ive that in the end any sociable thing, even The Italians complain that this town is an if smashed and in ruins, had a sort of wild charm and mad attraction. The awkwardly I walked back in a melancholy mood painted signs on the Osterie yielded the pleas- towards our starting-point, where our maurableness of works of art; a bureau or a chine was waiting. Yet as I walked the pitcher and basin in a dismantled house made cloud lifted very quickly. Though all was you breathe more easily. When I climbed desolation about us and only immovable through the débris of the Teatro Sociale and ghosts seemed to have been left of a past entered one of the few boxes left standing, I busy life, yet the spell of Italian geniality was felt like clapping my hands; the stage was somehow making itself felt. Even a cordown, but you could see the dressing-rooms poral's guard on the place sufficed for the at the back and the sylvan scenery in a heap miracle. I saw the "geniality" walking in the pit. Duse had played here and the down a ravaged street in the shape of a Commedia dell'Arte had found a hospitable young peasant soldier with a flask of rubyhome. The theater-goers of this Austrian red wine in one hand and a bright rose in town had evidently been loyal Venetians ; the other. Then I became aware that there they had raised a marble tablet to Gallina and were many, many birds singing in this desolaa bust to Goldoni, masking their allegiance tion of man, and that flowers were blooming to Italy under a permissible admiration for in profusion and in fragrant loveliness all Italian comedy. Somehow, after the tense- about us. ness outside, you felt strangely joyous here ; The tenseness seemed over, and my heart thousands had laughed and enjoyed them- exulted with every crash of the guns on the selves right where you stood, and not so bloody mountain slopes beyond. I felt cervery long ago. The sense of their pleasure tain that, though this poor stricken town had was still about the place, despite the havoc. been “buried alive,” the good wine of the I could see the throng of fathers and mothers, country, the humble wholesome bread, and of children and youths, gathered here, enjoy- the kindly care of that handful of good ing the simple, imperishable art of Carlo guardsmen would keep its poor heart going Goldoni. The wickedness of the Teutonic until the glad day when its hurt body would military castes in disturbing a peaceful Europe be lifted gently out of its living tomb and the never struck me as so criminal, so unneces- Italian tricolor run up over those ancient sary, as here in this homely playhouse as I walls which were its historic pride and which looked over the ravaged theater of this little the Venetians built against the barbarians town whose deserted streets bore every index centuries ago. of a laborious, peace-loving community.

From the Italian Front, May, 1916.






T the period when the tides of lite not the danger nor the touch of brutality that rise most rapidly and the social constitutes the fascination of football. It is

nature of the youth unfolds, team the rhythmic soul-beat that the players feel play, at once the most exhilarating and the as they fight all together as a single man ; it most developing form of play, makes its most is the absolute soul-satisfaction of a sacrifice powerful appeal. Now the personal interest play. It is the soul coming into its own, sinks to its proper level, and with passionate rising to what should be the normal plane of abandon the player throws his fine young adult life, the plane of co-operation. This powers into the struggle, not for his own spirit of play, culminating as it does during sake, but for the glory of the team. It is the college period, should pass without a

change into the work of life. When it does, " The first article in this series appeared in The Outlook the spirit continues to expand and the buoyof August 23, and the second in the issue of August 30. Another article will follow.-THE EDITORS.

ancy of youth lingers. But too often the




youth organizes his life-work about himself as the center and leaves behind that fine feeling of comradeship which was the best fruit of his school life. When his country is threatened, it awakens again in his tumultuous blood, and we call it patriotism ; indeed, it is never quite dead, but is, for the most part, available only for great emergencies. Yet this feeling, of all others, is the one that was meant to sweeten toil the world over. Down in the dark under the earth, in the thronging places of trade, wherever men work shoulder to shoulder, should be the spirit of the team, the spirit of the sacrifice play.

Every one, in a measure, realizes this principle The workingman bemoans the fact that the capitalist does not practice it ; the capitalist laments its absence among the workingmen. All of us in our relations with society decry the selfishness of other folks. What we ought to perceive is that, while no one alone can revolutionize institutions, each one can infuse this spirit into his own daily work. Suppose your desk is next to that of a curmudgeon ; he cares for no one, and, naturally, no one cares for him. manner costs the firm something occasionally, as crusty ways always do. He makes a mistake now and then, besides. Now, if you desire to try the co-operative plan, you will, when possible, unobtrusively prevent the consequences to the firm of his mistakes and his disposition. If necessary, make a sacrifice play of a few extra minutes at your desk and a little time and thought to keep him smoothed down, for the sake of the work. There will be other opportunities, many of them, for you quietly to further the interests of the firm, if you study the people about you and try to work with them. You will not be so sensitive about being imposed upon, since you will get your mind upon the work

itself and will not notice many trivial things except where they affect the success of the day's work. Many of the rest may be pretty poor team players, but that need not spoil your sport. In fact, if you win against odds, it will be only the more stimulating. It is true that this attitude is likely to win appreciation and recognition from employers. But if you do these things with your mind on the promotion, you may get the promotion just the same, but you will have spoiled the game. It is absolutely forgetting yourself in these larger ideas and interests that exhilarates and refreshes the spirit.

Every new study of the life of the Apostle Paul leaves us with fresh wonder at the buoyancy of his spirit. He had tasted toil under trying and discouraging conditions, he bore heavy burdens in loneliness, but nothing aged his soul. Within him something always sáng. And when we read his declaration, “We are God's fellow-workers,” we believe we have an echo of the song that never failed him. Nor do we think he was less conscious of working with God when he wove at his loom than when he preached on Mars Hill. Paul loved to use the great games of his time as illustrations of spiritual things, because he felt their spiritual meaning. He would understand the view-point that identifies the great passion that fired his soul with the simple, self-forgetful joy of the child doing his best that his side may win. It was Jesus who set a little child in the midst that the grownups might learn from him. Every honest worker has a right to the same conviction that glorified life for Paul. God is doing his utmost for the well-being of this world. Whatever contributes to that end helps him to carry out his great plans, and is therefore full of interest and importance for that reason, if all other reasons should fail.

His crusty

Neither Bethmann Hollweg, German Chan. cellor, nor Lloyd George, English Secretary of War, is to be classed as a “hyphenate," though many newspapers insist on printing their names Bethmann-Hollweg, Lloyd-George. A recent conspicuous offender as to the German Chancellor's name is the “Century Magazine," which heads an article “ Bethmann-Hollweg and German Policy," though it also prints a facsimile signature by the Chancellor without the offending connective.

On August 22 the price of the New York “ Herald " was reduced from three cents to one cent. The “ Herald " thus returns to its origi. nal price in 1835, when for a few months it was a "penny " paper. From August, 1835, till 1862 its price was two cents. The war carried it up to four cents. Since 1887 its price has been three cents, though most of its newspaper rivals have sold for only one cent.

A recent book about Central Africa gives this remarkable incident as illustrating the native's absorption in present prosperity. The author was traveling on the Congo River, among cannibal tribes; with the natives who came down to see him when he stopped at a Fan village was a man who had formerly been his 'steersman; he said he was a captive in the village and was destined for the pot. The captain urged him to jump aboard and save himself. To his intense surprise, the native refused! The Fans, it seems, give their intended victims “the time of their lives " preliminary to the seast, and in the midst of his enjoyment the future knife had no terrors for the unimaginative captive!

To avoid that exasperating jolt one gets when going down into the cellar and trying to step down another step when none is there, or the equally disconcerting mistake of stepping off two steps instead of one, an exchange suggests that the bottom step of the cellar stairs be painted white. Then one will always know just when he has reached the bottom.

Dr. Foster, President of Reed College, Portland, Oregon, tells in “Harper's Magazine” of his old master in a Boston public school, whose motto in scholarship for his boys was “One hundred per cent, or zero.” The same motto, says Dr. Reed, but with a difference, was apparently held to by a boy who came home from school the other day and said to his father, “ I got one hundred per cent in school to-day.” “Did you ?" exclaimed the proud father; "in what subject ?” “Oh," was the reply, “ I got fifty per cent in arithmetic and fifty per cent in geography."

The old stories about swordtish ramming boats, either by mistake or in malice, are matched by a newspaper account of the experi. ence of the fishing schooner Reita. Twice

within a few weeks, it is stated, her hull has been pierced by the weapon of a swordfish. The last time the sword not only penetrated the planking but transfixed a suit-case. belonging to a member of the crew.

He had to go ashore in his sea togs while the boat was sent to the marine railway for repairs.

Bird lovers will be glad to read the report that a treaty for the protection of insect-destroying birds on both sides of the Canadian boundary has been entered into between the United States and Great Britain. Its administration will be left to local authorities. It is said that this is the first treaty of its kind.

A despatch from London says that a new invention, called a piano typewriter, reproduces in ordinary musical notation whatever the performer plays. A pianist can make a copy of any piece of music by merely playing it through. The inventor is an Italian.

“The three best American stories ever written by one author," in the estimation of a writer in the “Christian Register," are " In His Name,” “ The Man Without a Country,” and “My Double.” The author, it need scarcely be said, was the Rev. Edward Everett Hale.

Among islands named after animais, says the London " Chronicle," there are the Isle of Dogs and Whale Isiand, Pewit Island in Essex, and Crane and Gull Islands off the coast of Cornwall. Near Lundy Island are Rat Island and the Hen and Chickens. Transatlantic travelers, it may be added, are familiar with the Bull, Cow, and Calf Islands, near the English coast. Elephant Island has lately been associated with Shackleton's exploring party : Cat Island, in the West Indies, has been regarded as Columbus's original landing-place.

A page advertisement in a New York paper gives one a good idea of the relative rents asked for New York City apartments. It begins with a palace on Fifth Avenue overlooking Central Park; apartments here range from 15 rooms and 4 baths at $15,000 a year to 24 rooms and 9 baths for $28,000 a year! From this one can descend at the bottom of the page to an apartment on Eighty first Street near Lexington Avenue, consisting of 4 rooms and bath, for $660. Most of the apartments advertised rent for $2,000 and over.

A subscriber calls attention to an amusingly uninformative headline in his local paper, apropos of the paralysis epidemic. The Associated Press despatch read: "The disease is beginning to assume serious proportions in the eyes of medical authorities," etc. The headline in:erpreted this as follows:




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