Verhovayak Lapja, 1943. július-december (26. évfolyam, 26-53. szám)

1943-11-25 / 48. szám

Ü5L!_____________________________Verhovay Journal_______________________November 25, iw

K I A O O Snowed In

It was a week after Jed, Elsa and Kiao had returned from their trip into the north country. They had made up the lessons which they had missed during their absence. They had told their classmates all about their wonderful trip to the north country, of their visit to the government school for Indian children. Jed told of Pete and Mike, who weré so apt with the work that needed to be done. Elsa spoke of Amy, the soft-eyed Indian girl, who had been kind to them. Kiao told them of Pierre Rochelle, the softvoiced young French-Indian, who knew so many interesting events of early history. Kiao repeated the story of Chechinquamin, the small boy whose name means a little chestnut tree. The children were delighted with the story.

“Oh, Miss Mason!” Joey exclaimed, “May we all visit Pierre, and George and Amy sometime, soon?”

“May we, Miss Mason?” the children asked, one after another.

The teacher smiled at their enthusiasm.

“Perhaps, when the weather permits,” she answered. “Let us go on with our studies.”

A stillness descended upon the room when the children turned their attention to their work. The pupils found their lessons interesting and they tried to learn them well.

Outside, a snow-storm arose, and the wind howled fiercely, blowing about the schoolhouse, carrying swirls of snow in its rage. As Kiao said, this was the season of Ta Han, the Moon of the Great Cold, when the earth is covered with a thick, cold blanket of glistening white snow.

The children within the schoolroom were warm, for a fire was kept going steadily in the large stove that stood in the center of the room. From time to time, Miss Mason fed the fire with pieces of coal from the coalbucket that stood nearby. The flames leaped up the chimney and mádé the room cozy.

However, this morning it was difficult lor the children to keep their mind on their work for any length of time. Their attention was divided; from time to time, their eyes

wandered from the pages in their book, to the snow-play outside the windows. How the wind roared and threw the snow about! They were amazed at the ungovernable rage of the wind. The children sensed a strangeness in the atmosphere, and knew something exciting would happen before the day was over.

“It is an angry wind that blows today.” Miss Mason, the teacher, remarked, interrupting their study period for a moment, as the wind whistled noisily beyond the windows, shaking the panes.

“In China, when the wind blew fiercely, we called it the Breath of Concentrated Motion,” Kiao spoke up.

“I believe it will be less fierce by the time school is over,” the teacher said to the pupils; although she, too, sensed a strangeness in the air. “Let us continue with our lessons.”

The children turned their attention from the snowstorm to their lesson.

“Today, we will discuss clocks.” Miss Mason said. “The first idea of a clock began a long time ago, when people began to listen to the beating of their own heart. They were suprised at the regularity in their heartbeats. They felt their pulse, and learned there was a regularity in their pulsebeats, also. It was not only awkward, but inconvenient, too, to measure time by feeling the pulse, whenever one wished to measure a certain unit of time. After many years of experiments, someone devised the hour-glass. This glass vessel was an instrument that measured time by the time required by a certain amount of sand, mercury or water, to run from the upper of two compartments, through a small open passage, into the lower compartment.”

The teacher drew a picture of the hour-glass on the blackboard and explained how it worked.

“Thus,” she went on, “people learned to measure the hours, minutes and seconds of the day and night. They learned it took twenty-four hours for the earth to revolve once on its axis to make a whole day.

“At one time, people measured time by making notches on a candle for they

learned that it took a certain unit of time for the candle to burn from one notch to another.

“Kiao,” she addressed the Chinese boy, “I understand that in China, time is still measured in some villages by what the people call a time-stick, is this true?”

“Yes,” the boy answered, promptly. “The time-stick is a stick that is lighted and permitted to burn to the end of the rod. The time-stick is also used by Buddhists in the Cave of the Enlightened.”

“Tell us more about this, Kiao,” Miss Mason said.

“The Cave of the Enlightened is not far from where I used to live in China,” the boy began. “I can still remember the time I was taken to the place that is closed to the world. It is a large chamber in the earth, from which a long passage leads to another chamber. In this second chamber is the image of Buddha, carved of white jade. He is seated on a dais, his face serene, for he is unmindful of the suffering of the world. His followers light the time-stick to time their meditation while they commune with the One.”

Thex-e was a brief silence in the room after the boy finished speaking.

“That was very interesting,” Miss Mason said; then went on: “Then the sundial and moondial was invented to tell time. A sundial is a device used to indicate the time of day by the shadow of a gnomon thrown upon a graduated plate. The gnomon is a triangular object used as an indicator on a sundial. It is the length or position o'f its shadow that indicates the time.

“Who can draw a sundial on the blackboard for us?” she asked the class.

“May I. Miss Mason?” Joey asked, eagerly.

“Yes,” she answered.

The boy walked across the room to the blackboard and picked up a piece of chalk. At first his movements were uncertain, as though he did not know how to begin the sketch. Then he erased the crude picture and began again; for he suddenly remembered seeing a picture of a sundial in a book that his mother had given him on his birthday. His strokes became definite and firm, and in a few moments he completed the picture of a sundial.

The pupils were amazed at his artistic ability.

“Very good, Joey!” the teacher said, approvingly; then went on, speaking to the class: “Today, time-telling is more simple, fór we have clocks and watches, instruments that measure time by mechanical movements. Large clocks have a pendulum that swings freely from left to right, and is used to regulate the movements of the clockwork. Watches are pocket timepieces that have a springdriven movement. A watch has a bearing for a pivot that is of crystal or ruby known as a jewel.

“There is also a water clock which is a contrivance that measures time by the flow of water through a small opening. The clepsydra.”

“Look at the snow carried by the wind!” Kiao suddenly exclaimed, looking out the window at the snow-strom.

“Oh!” Elsa cried. “It is a real blizzard!’

Miss Mason looked out the window. But she could not see far ahead, for there was a high wind followed by blinding snow. It had come down steadily, while they were occupied with lessons, and now at was piled high and more coming down. An hour later, when it was time for the children to leave the schoolroom, the snow was too deep. Miss Mason attempted to use the telephone to call for help, but the line was down. There was nothing to do except wait until help came.

Some of the children grew frightened. The teacher suggested they play games and for a while they were content. Then one of the girls began to weep.

“Your mustn’t cry, Sally,” Miss Mason said, drying her tears on her handkerchief. “Someone will come soon, and then we can all go home.”

An hour went by, which seemed a much longer time to the children waiting in the schoolroom. They had felt all day that something exciting would happen, but did not think they would be snowed in.

A faint sound was heard in the distance, which grew louder as it came nearer. It was the sound of a car. The teacher and her pupils looked out the windows and saw a truck drive through the deep snow and stop. A man

stepped from the car and made his way through the deep snow to the schoolhouse. The teacher opened the door and admitted Mr. Barbour.

“Hello!” he exclaimed, shaking the snowflakes from his coat. “I tried to call you, but the lines are down.”

The children hastily put their wraps on and made their way to the truck. Miss Mason pulled her coat tightly about her, locked the schoolhouse, and followed the children to the truck- She covered their knees with the blankets Mrs. Barbour had placed in the truck.

The children sang on their way home, happy in the thought that they would have a few days’ holiday, while the blizzard lasted.--------V-------OUR SECRET WEAPON

An advertisement of an oil company makes a unique comparison between the price of gasoline and the price of other commodities, pound for pound. Consumers in Los Angeles, for example, pay 3 cents a pound for flour, at least 6 cents for potatoes, 6 half cents for sugar, 8 cents for bread, 30 cents per pound and up for meat; a $45 suit costs about $11 a pound, a $6 pair of shoes about $3 a pound. Regular gasoline, exclusive of tax, by contrast, costs 2 to 2 half cents per pound, depending upon where you live.

A gallon of gasoline in 1920 cost far more and was greatly inferrior to that produced today. Competition between oil companies has been responsible for the improvement both in price and quality. What is true of gasoline is also true to a relative degree of very other commodity and service produced in this country. Our planes fly higher and faster than the enemies’, thanks to American industrial competition. Our jeeps, tanks and armanent are products of the same competitive system. Their quality and quantity are the envy of the world. The subjects of the dictators know not the meaning of the word competition. That is why they are losing the war, the bitterest competitive struggle of all time.

WE ISSUE INSURANCE

WITH A HEART WE PAY WHEN YOU ARB SICK OR INJURED