f ■ . —
The following is a little human in
terest story by Marjory Stoneman
Douglass that brings home in a con
crete way the purpose for which we
are sewing and knitting:
Three refugees came in through
the door a little timidly, as if unknown
places were still fearful to them. They
stood silently before the desk where
the woman was writing. She did not
raise her head until she was ready to
question them. These women at Mrs
Scott’s Vestiaire, in the stately old
house in the Faubourg St. Honore,
have given out clothing for refugees
for four years now and in the last few
months they have handled the distri
bution for the American Red Cross
for all Paris. It is only that they are
so very busy, not that they do not
notice.
She looked up only to see the num
ber of the family, to ask the name,
and if they had been given clothing
before.
“Bolle, Madame. This is Lucien. H<
is nine. And Germains is five. This
is the first time, Madame.”
The attendant reached for a blank
record card and copied on it swiftlj
the facts she found on the blue card
clutched In the woman’s hand. It in
dicated that they were a refugee fam
ily, investigated by a Red Cross work
er, very poor, badly in need of cloth
ing. She looked up quickly at the
end. “Now what is it you need,
Madame?”
“Whatever Madame wishes to give.”
The little group stood silently, grave
eyes on the questioner. Their cloth
ing was ragged, the little boy’s feet
were almost hare through his worn
cloth espadrilles. But after one had
learned what it is to be a refugee one
has nothing left but that waiting look.
The woman behind the desk wrote
on a slip of paper.
“A skirt for you, perhaps, Madame?”
“If you will, Madame,” was the
murmured answer.
“And a blouse and two chemises.”
Again the murmur, always quiet,
always with that holding of the breath
“If you will, Madame."
And a petticoat and a shawl. And
/for the children. Germaine -
But Germaine was too young to re
member always what it was to be a
refugee. She thrust her little tousled
head forward. “A new dress, Madame
please. Please, a new dress.” And
she held out her tiny skirt, torn, thin,
wet with February rain.
A visible shade came over the calm
face of the woman behind the desk.
Her fingers still wrote rapidly. ‘•Ger
maine Bolle, one pair of shoes, two
pairs of stockings, two flannel petti
coats, two pairs of drawers. But—
but I’m afraid—Miss Jenkins, "she in
terrupted herself hurriedly and in
English. "See if you can possibly find
a little girl’s dress for me. I know
they haven’t been sending us any from
the Red Cross, but maybe—this child
does want a new one so.” And she
wrote out the list for the boy, putting
in two extra pairs of stockings be
cause he would be the worker of the
family.
Then the three, clutching their slips
of paper with the writing on them that
meant warmth and comfort, moved
slowly down the hall to the rooms,
crowded with bundles of clothing
gathered from the workrooms of
America.
Fast the desk moved other groups.
First two old, old women with a little
boy. Their cards showed that they
had been twice evacuated in two years
and that the little boy was a child
they had found.
They needed aprons and good warm
petticoats, and he needed shoes and
trousers. Then next came a young
mother«with a baby and her old father
who stood with dim eyes blinking out
of the window. He was bent with
rheumatism but—you must appear in
person, for fear you should be cheat
ing. His sabots clumped heavily to
ward the room where the men are
dressed. Two young boys, in a non
descript huddle of garments came in,
one with a horribly distorted face,
bandaged. The other had such a cold
on his lungs that he only wheezed
when he talked. They had been pris
oners in Germany apd had walked in
from far beyond Nancy. Some sol
diers had given them a little clothing,
but it was not warm enough. Then
came three young girls, speaking
French with a pretty, clicking accent,
charming girls, with refined, cultured
manners. They were Serbians, their
cards read, and their histories j’j»fiat
ed wealthy and educated parents. But
they were grateful for tlPe stiff, un
bleached muslin underwear and the
flannel blouses which was nil the Ves
tiaire could give them.
All day long the procession went by
the desk, out into the clothing rooms
and then again across the room and
out the other door. Always the groups
waiting by the desk had that air of
holding their breath. Always at the
outer door they pause, with that in
stinctive mannerliness of the French,
turned and murmured to the room,
“Bon jour, Mesdames.” (thank you,
Mesdames). And then they would
smile, the old people vaguely, the
younger women with renewed cour
age, the children—oh, the children
giggled and chuckled and pointed to
their wonderful new shoes and their
miraculous warm caps and sometimes
forgot to say, “Thank you,” because
they were so happy.
We need YOUR help. .
“SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE”
By EMMA COWAN BARBER
Shoshone, Idaho
Dedicated to the Loyal Women of
America
“Somewhere in France” is all she may
know
Of where her husband waits to meet
the foe;
Far from his home, when life is past
its noon,
He leads his troops beneath an alien
moon,—
But this she knows, through days of
anxious care,
Wherever he may be, her Flag is
there.
Through days of hope, and days of
dreadful chance,
Her loyal hert is there—“Somewhere
in France.”
"Somewhere in France” her lover
waits the call
To hurl himself amidst the battle’s
pall.
Gone from her side when all thir rosy
dreams
Had led through peaceful fields, by
laughing streams,
She would not call him back, for this
she knows,
Wher^er he may go Old Glory goes.
Though thus may end, for her, life’s
dear romance,
Her loyal heart is there—“Somewhere
in France.” >
l
“Somewhere in Fance” her baby lips
repeat,
She lifts inquiring eyes, so gravely
sweet.
Wondering why her father marched
away,—
Why mother’s face grows paler, day
by day.
She may not know that where the
soldier walks,
By day and night a frightful specter
stalks;
That now their' pictured faces lie,
perchance
Against a silent heart—“Somewhere
in France.”
I
“Somewhere in France” her brother,
on the field,
Presents his splendid body as her
shield;
Willing to die—or live a hopeless
wreck—
If so he helps to hold the foe in check.
Through busy hours she feels the
seasons drag,—
Her thoughts are with her brother-—
and the Flag.
With heart aflame, defiance in her
grace,
She longs to fight, with him—“Some
where In France.”
*
"Somewhere in France” her son is at
his post;
Impatient to confront the hostile host.
Torn from her arms, where yesterday,
it seems,
He lay an infant, smiling in his
dreams.
And now, from smoke wreaths dark
against the skies,
His dear face seems to lool^, with
smiling eyes—
If he should die this boon a harsh
fate grants;
He’ll die with Honor Bright—“Some
where in France.”
“Somewhere in France,” a million
hearts are there—•
A million souls are rapt in silent
FOR SALE I
FOR SALE
Choice business and residence
property.
FOR RENT—
Furnished and unfurnished
apartments and cottages.
INSURANCE—
Fire and marine, life and ac
cident.
BONOS
Fidelity and surety.
.
CORDOVA ABSTRACT &
REALTY COMPANY
ROOM 1 ADAM3 BUrLDING
Cordova
The City Beautiful
Help to keep it so by using a
Garbage Can. Plenty of thAm at
i
CORDOVA
SHEET METAL WORKS
Phone 143
! 1
j
YOUR FURS MADE TO ORDER
Best work guaranteed. Low
est prices. Over 2,000 Alaska
customers.
R. W. Drew
Tacoma's Expert Furrelr
11th and B’dw’y, Tacoma, Wash.
prayer—
Prayer for the loved, wherever they
may be.
\nd prayer for those enslaved, they
fight to free
Unknown to us the field where duties
call—
But One there is who watches over
all,
Who guides our Flag, that truth may
still advance—
3ur God is with them all—“Some
where in France.”
JUST RECEIVED
A LARGE SHIPMENT OF
LIVE CHICKENS
Excellent Roasters
FRESH EGGS
FOR SALE
JOEFREY
Phone 22
LUMBER
BUILDING MATERIALS OF
ALL KIND8
Brick and Linie
CORDOVA MILL AND
LUMBER CO.
Job printing at Daily Times office.
ipilllMlIlllllllllMMIlllW
I MINING MACHINERY MARINE HARDWARE CANNERY SUPPUES j
I MARINE ENGINES |
I IN CORDOVA STOCK 1
8 NEW CLAY ANDERSON MILLER NEW PACIFIC
The World’* Recognized Fishermen’s Engines, Medium and Heavy Duty, Four-Cycle, Extended Base*
NOTICE.—We are making new addition, to our Machine Shop in Cordova, which before April the &.t will be complete, and comprise the fol
lowing new equipment: One 18-inch Monarch Lathe, 16-foot bed; one 13-inch South Bend Gap Bod Lathe; one Wdmarth &Mornuui Uiura-sal
‘ Grinding Machine; a Vulcan 60-ton Hydraulic Prem; one Buffalo Boiler Plate Shtbng Shear; a Buffalo 4-md. Furnace; one 0.t« Pipe mid Bolt
Threading Machine; a Becker-Brainard Milling Machine, 20x80-inch table; one Baker Key Sea ter; two Buffalo Upright - Geared DpUjng and
Reaming Machine.; a Universal Wood-Working Machine, and many other electric and universal hand machines, including an Ox-Weld Acety
lene Welder and Detroit Electric Hardening Furnace.
HARMON MACHINERY COMPANY, INC.
CORDOVA. ALASKA
_ . ..r
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1 Victory
I Loan
A world is to be rebuilt. .. . The guns have ceased .
jj J,o fire? Yes. But should we requite this grace of God jp
B by haggling over the debt incurred to silence eternally gg
jj the artillery’s frightful roar?—CARTER GLASS, Sec
• rotary of the Treasury.
ARE YOU READY FOR THE VICTORY LOAN,
APRIL 21 TO MAY 10?
Bank of Alaska 1
jj Capital $170,000.00 jj
Ijjj Cordova Skaflway Anchorage Wrangell jj
I '
Bogart & Robinson
DEALERS IN UP-TO-THE-MINUTE
Wall Paper
AND DECORATIONS
We also Do Painting, Decorating and Paper-Hanging. Estimates
cheerfully furnished for the best of work by experienced workmen.