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Maryland State Archives Jeffersonian, Towson, Maryland mdsa_sc3410_1_81-0149 Enlarge and print image (5M) |
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Maryland State Archives Jeffersonian, Towson, Maryland mdsa_sc3410_1_81-0149 Enlarge and print image (5M) |
| Newsgravure Section, THE JEFFERSONIAN, Towson, Md., August 23, 1924. 11 ^f /" &,&M©K) $ |wrjTt\f AM» THE 1TORLP 1OT&GJS '• KfBTH Y9EH- ; x, §$0(2>e3g to r i AN» V®U SI.SKP AL§NK- «• &INCE WE GOT 'LECTRIC LIGHTS. Our farm's a mile from anywhere an' Sometimes we'd go all day 'Thout seein' any neighbors ccme A-trampin' out our way! feut now—why, folks from all arouh' Come droppin' in o' nights— They want to see how our house looks Since we got 'lectric lights! ! 'Twas lots o' trouble fillin' lamps With kerosene, yer know! For first, ye'd hev to trim th' wick An' next, ye'd put th' chimbley on, An' strike a match;—but gee! Now we jus' press a button an' It's light as light can be! An' ma don't need her specs at all For sewin',—ain't that swell? An' pa can read th' "County News" 'Thout swearin' 'bout th' smell! An' sis, she's got so many beaus A-hangin' round her nights, She gits hysterics!—Huh! They come To see th' 'lectric lights! ----------o---------- EVENTUALLY. My pretty Pansy Perthamboy Thinks she's so very y-y-y-y, For she's so very versatile With both her deep, dark i-i-i-i. She lets them wander far a-field; They rove aaround like b-b-b-b; They keep me guessing constantly, And do it with such e-e-e-e. But let my Pansy keep it up! And let my Pansy t-t-t-t! For some day I shall lose my head, Then I'll my Pansy c-c-c-c! ----------o---------- WRONG SLDE. A lady returning home from an eight-year sojourn in Euroope, decided to revisit her childhood home to see her married brother who still lived there. She was met at the door by a small boy whom she rightly presumed to be her nephew. "Who are you?" he demanded. "I am your aunt on your father's side," she explained. "Well, you can come in," he said, "but if there's a row, you'll find you're on the wrong side!" ----------o---------- GETTING PRACTICE. Jack—Why did they kick that medical student out of the library? Tom—They caught him trying to remove the appendix from a book he was reading. ----------o---------- PLENTY OF KNOWLEDGE AT HOME. American—I suppose your son's thirst after knowledge led him to travael in Europe this winter? Second American—No; merely his thirst. ------.—o-------;— LEFT AT THE POST. "I hear you and your wife had some words last night." "We did, but I never got around to using mine." ------«,—o---------- IT DEPENDS. Mooney—Brace up, man! Troth, ye luk as if fye didn'a hov a fri'nd in th' whole wur'rld. Hogan—Oi hovn't. Mooney— G'wan. If fit ain't money ye want to borry Oi'm as good a fri'nd as iver ye had. ----------o---------- HARD HEADED. A bricklayer was laying bricks on the third story of an unfinished house, and unfortunately dropped a brick on the head of a colored man who was mixing mortar below. The bricklayer, his heart in his mouth, craned over the parapet. He thought he had killed the poor colored man; but the latter looked up at him with a good-natured and forgiving grin. "Hey, what you doin' up there, white man,?" he shouted; "you made mah bite my tongue." ----------o---------- LET BYGONES BE BYGONES. "You don't call me cutie any more." "No, girlie, that word is too reminiscent of life in the trenches," he replied. ----------o----------• WHAT THEY ALL SAY. "I can't keep visitors from coming up," said William Winkle, dejectedly. "When I say you're out they won't believe me. They all say they must see you." "Well, put them off somehow," said the editor with a worried look. "Whatever they say to you just tell thenar 'That's what they all say.' Be firm, see?" "Yes, sir." That afternoon a lady called. She had hard features and an acid expression, and she demanded to see the editor at once. "Impossible," said William. "But I'm his wife," persisted the lady. "That's what they all say," said the boy. ----------o---------- THE ONLY LACK. Mother'—Well, Nellie, is your doll kitchen completely furnished now? Nellie—No, mama, I still need a policeman for the cook. ----------o---------- TOO LATE THEN. "AH through my trial you kept saying, 'Your Honor, I object,' snarled the convicted crook. "So I did, so I did," replied his lawyer, soothingly. "When the judge sent me up for 10 years, why in Sam Hill didn't you object to that?" ----------o------— HOW IT WORKED. Edith—Do you really believe that absence makes the heart grow indeed! Since Bob jrned to love Jack THE BUSINESS MAN THAT BECAME A BISHOP. theological seminaries? That's a live subject worth looking into; even by the modernists themselves. Well, anyway, James Edward Freeman, without a restrictive formula, began to preach. Henry Codnurn Potter, Bishop of New York, had taken him under his wing. About the best thing that Bishop Potter ever said to young Freeman, promotive of finish and precision, wa.s this: "You have a dangerous gift; I mean your fluency of speech. You can use it for wellbeing or injury of the world. I advise you, therefore, to write all of your sermons during the first three years of your ministry." Did you follow Bishop Potter's advice?" I asked "Bishop Freeman. "Yes," he replied, "but I was greatly restrained.'' If there had been no Potter in the bishopric, there would have been no Freeman in the priesthood. The relation of patron and protege makes a story that ought to be told over and over again—of a life unshaped but suddenly set apart in mystery and romance and - turned to the service of mankind and the glory of heaven. It is .possible that, had Jai EdAvard Freeman been born ^ an unprepossessing face a piping voice, he never v, have received or heard mons to the pulpit. Thorn fcrson's thin, unpleasing caused him to turn aw oratory in disa.ppointme self-expression in wr: became the author of ican Revolution, as became its soldier Morris its fmanci young Freeman's v use of it, in and out that brought him to enterprising noticej Codman Potter, to the Bishop's offi ""What," the Bis your aim in life?" "I am a railroad Edward Freeman what puzzled at question, but more he should have bee At the time, be James Edward Fl twenty-four years ol cently married. He public schools of N which city he was b| 24, 1866, and gone t clerk in the legal del the Long Island Ra] to change later and] employment of . the Central and Hudson road as an accountant one promotion after an felt, therefore, like man. Moreover, he tol Potter, he was not preps cationally to study for istry. "I think you will make' take if you decide to re the railroad business," Potter said, "As to your cal and theological trainin the ministry, I'll take yt hand myself." Young Freeman, however, unconvinced. He left the Bi and returned to the work of desk. Eight months later called on the Bishop again, am here to say," he told Bishop, "that I desire to accept your kind suggestion made to me some time ago. Henry Codman Potter was a practical as well as a spiritual thinker and leader. He said, for instance, that every clergyman should spend at least five years in business—should know the daily pit: falls and tribulations of human nature in its relations and .situations before he undertook to guide, admonish and instruct it. During two; generations, at least," there were a considerable number of energetic and sagacious Potters who were successful men of affairs. Four of them, and perhaps more, were clergymen. Alonzo Potter, father of Henry Codman, built thirty-five churches in Philadelphia during the twenty years of his episcopate and so well worked out were all of his plans that men of wealth were glad to give him their help and money. He is said to have had a genius for management. Horatio Potter, uncle of Henry Codman, who succeeded him as bishop of New York, was another wise and tactful man of business. Henry Codman Potter told his protege, James Edward Freeman, that his father, estimating his talents, or regretting his lack of them, put him to work as a clerk in a wholesale grocery store of Philadelphia. But the young man took the course at a theological seminary in Virginia and became : From St. John's he went, as rector, to St. Andrew's, also at Yonkers, where he remained for sixteen years. St. Andrew's flourished under his hand—in membership and the value of its property. With money given him by a" manufacturer of carpets—$275,000—he built a club house for working men. • He acted as an umpire in disputes between capital and labor and made friends of such Americans as Theodore Roosevelt, police commissioner of New York; John Mitchell, head of the coal miners' union, and Jacob Riis, social worker and author of several books on social subjects. Then came a call from St. Mark's Church in Minneapolis. James Edward Freeman was forty-three years of age. "You'll not be happy," J. Pierpont Morgan told him, "in a town of 300,000 inhabitants. New York is where you belong. You will stay, I predict, no more than six months in Minneapolis." Instead, he remained for eleven years. In the great Northwest, among robust and driving Americans, Bisli op Freeman seemed to find his natural element. Once again a man of wealth, under the inspiration of the old rector of St.1 Andrew's' and the rector of St. a building in workingmen 's heaven, Bishop a broad high-•ow path. He with anyone or who over-Ireland, the became his e joined or-iess men, the Traffic Club, he left Min-Washington State took ght address e them a shing dist- y of New Jerome eman if a and vet "Yes," "but a he e "I the and punctuality in the pe: ance of his tasks and the value of time. Meanwhile he had made the acquaintance and won the respect of the officers to whom he "I thought you would," the^vas subordinated. Likewise he Bishop quietly replied. Why did Bishop Potter think so? Let every reader of these lines, fatalist or believer in the guardianship of the Almighty, answer the question by the light of his philosophy or in the sincerity of his faith. But apart from the speculative and supernatural" phases of the matter, it is well to have it understood that had been a member of a political committee and had made stump speeches for Benjamin Harrison and Levi P. Morton during the national campaign of 1888. Such, then, was the handsome and youthful assistant at St. John's in Yonkers. He was ordained a priest in 1895—taking vows that he has remembered and kept through all the days since. BETTER HEATING FOR YOUR HOME SAVE FUEL and heat your home better by using the MAJESTIC DUPLEX HEATING SYSTEM (a great improvement over the pipeless furnace). THE MAJESTIC REGISTER is constructed to in«ure maximum fuel eeonomy, distributins: and circulating- the neat more evenly. It harmonizes with the floor furnishings; can be placed against the wall; occupies one-half less floor space; avoids cutting hole in the center of room; does not limit the furnace to one register nor collect dust. Write now for special prices and booklet. "BETTER HEATING.'' W. H. WILLIAMS 332 N. GAY ST. Phone, Calvert 2830 Baltimore, Md. ? BE knows that the church is injured if he doesn't. This lawyerlike answer left Mr. Jerome exactly on the spot from which he started* but there were few preachers of any denomination secular enough or shrewd enough to have made it. There was no humanly discernible reason why Dr. Freeman should leave the finest Episcopal church in the Northwest, and Minneapolis, astir with life and energy, and come to the lethargic Church of the Epiphany in the leisurely and unimaginative city Washington. Western Texas had elected him a bishop, but he declined the office. The episcopacy of Washington was not then vacant; nor was Epiphany the big church of the diocese. But he came and ere long new chimes in the steeple of-Epiphany rang out a new life and a new joy and the pews were more than filled, with men as well as women. At once Dr. Freeman interested himself in the civic movements of Washington. He addressed in a single twelve-month forty banquets and meetings of citizens and business men He had preached and worked in Washington for two years and six months when the bishop of the diocese died. Dr. Freeman was chosen to be his successor, receiving, it should be noted, in a large field of competitors, the votes of nearly all of the lay delegates. "He is a man of business," the lay delegates argued. They were, on the whole, men of business themselves. The new bishop of Washington, within a short time after his election, obtained local subscriptions for the /building fund of the cathedral of SS. Peter and Paul totaling $1,100,000, which is the largest sum ever obtained by any man or group of men for any purpose in the District of Columbia. An achieving personality, a brilliant personality—yes, But: "It is well said, in every sense," quoting the author whom Bishop Potter had young James Edward Freeman study first of all, "that a man's religion is the chief fact with regard to him." WHO GETS THE CONSUMER'S farmer wiB have to answer for DOLLAR? himself. Bill Ross, a Baltimore county farmer, gets 21/£ cents for a quart of berries, and Clyde Barry in Phillipsburg, N. J., not two hundred miles away, has to pay 20 cents for those berries. It is interesting to calculate what proportion of the consumer's dollar this particular farmer received. It may be stimulating to sluggish minds to try to determine what proportion of the consumer's dollar dropped into the waiting palms along the route the berries followed from the time they passed out of the farmer's possession until they rested in the market basket of the Phillipsburg householder. To keep the record straight, the farmer received $1.85 per crate; for the berries and they were right nice Heflins at that. But you must deduct the cost of picking and the crates. Don't bother about the small matter of labor in the patch for a year or packing or hauling; that's merely health-giving exercise. Of course, we know the low price he received was due to the rain and the bumper crop and the price the ultimate consumer paid was also due to the rain which made the crop short and there you have it as simple as the law of supply and demand. However, we would like .to know what particular service was rendered by the palms which passed along the berries, that re-uired the payment of 17V2 cents to do the job. Allowing as a minimum four people, the buyer, the transportation company, wholesaler and the retailer, doesn't it seem as if the man who produced that quart of berries ought to get at least as much as any one of the four? That's a question the Baltimore county is a wonderful county. We know that's so because we say of ourselves and the U. S, Department of Agriculture tells the world that we're one of the richest counties in the U. S. And the figures for crops marketed run into the millions, so we throw out our chest und then feel around in our pants pocket in search for a stray dime for a plug of tobacco.. It is possible, that if we were a mite less generous we could pay up some of our old taxes and save our business men from worrying-how they, will meet their bills. Baltimore county is a most progressive and generous county. We know that's so because we keep on repeating it on holiday occasions and in between, and the school essays are chock full of it and. as disdain of worldly wealth is a sure sign of it, Ave pay people lT1/^ cents for being .kind enough ¦ to take care of a quart of berries for us, and merely retain 2y2 cents for ourselves for growing the quart. $mj~x~:~X"M~j *4mK****** ERECTED IN LOUDON PARK —BY— F. J. SCHAEFFER, Inc. Established 1879 Marble. Granite and Statuary 3520 Frederick Avenue Opp. Loudon Park Cemetery BALTIMORE. MD. £ Phone* 2636-1982-J. ^w^^ww^«w^^^ SEE THE NEW NASH MODELS , i AT TIMONIUM FAIR ¦ ¦: : ¦: ;: B J. A. WADE THOMAS * Cockeysville, Md. Telephone, Cockeysville 126 a ¦I i ffi&m&i%wm!$wwim3m8sgi^^8ii"" |