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RR Fa a TR months. Sithis annual cycle is due to a revolution of WINNETKA TALK September 11, 1926 WINNETKA TALK ISSUED SATURDAY OF EACH WEEK Y LLOYD HOLLISTER, INC. 564 Lincoln Ave. Winnetka, Ill. 1222 Central Ave., Wilmette, Ill. Chicago office: 6 N. Michigan Ave. Tel. tate 6326 Telephone ..........veense. uss: dunnenses Winnetka 2000 Telephone .........c;ocenns..:..onernaes sie Wilmette 1920 SUBSCRIPTION PRICE All communications must be accompanied by the name and address of the writer. Articles for pub- lication must reach the editor by Thursday noon to msure appearance in current issue. Resolutions of condolence, cards of thanks, obituary, tices of entertainments or other affairs where an admittance charge is published, will be charged at regular advertising rates. Entered at the post office at Winnetka, Illinois, as mail matter of the second class, under the act of March 3. 1879. The north shore suburbs are beautiful. We have the reputation of being rather proud of our good looks, and our pride is not ungrounded. Others Let's have told us we are rather comely. In fact we Keep Them should not have grown so rapidly and real estate prices would not have risen so high, had our natural and man-made not been notably attractive. It is our duty to keep our towns attrac- surroundings tive. We ought to allow nothing to de- tract from this attractiveness. We ought to take signs off our trees. Our lots, especially lots that don't seem to belong to anybody in particular, ought to be kept free from cans and other rubbish. Our bridges and buildings must be kept good looking. Such signs as have appeared on the Willow road viaduct in Winnetka ought to be painted out. We are grateful to the North Shore road for having removed their paint- ed announcement. Perhaps the North Western road has already done likewise. Let's keep our natural beauties unim- paired. Nature begins again in April. Human beings begin in September. Isn't there something alarming in this difference between the methods of Beginnin nature and man? In the gn g fall nature is harvesting Again her various fruits. All na- ture, with notable excep- tions, matures in the fall. The leaves, the flowers, all come to an end in the autumn. But man then begins a new year. The outstanding event of man's new year is the reopening of the schocls. Time was . when the children looked forward to the fall session with reluctance, not to say positive distaste. But now things are dif- ferent. The normal child is glad to return to school. The reopening of the schopl doors is a happy occasion. Business men after the comparative slackness of the summer months tighten up their belts a bit and plan to make the new year outstrip the old. What was lacking in the previous year will be supplied in the coming year. Local Chambers of Com- merce issue self-imposed orders to their members to beat the record during the com- ing months. It is well that both nature and man should begin over again every twelve Although everybody knows that the earth round the sun, still we've got so used to it that it would be most unpleasant to live on the planet Neptune, which takes several terrestrial years to run once around the sun. Make something of your opportunity to begin again. . In these cool and windy wet days, when the going of summer is being announced by sky and land and sea, it will console many to think of the coming of Spicewood spring. So we print here a Woodworth very short poem by Lizette Reese telling a very lit- tle about the "Young Year." We don't know what spicewood is, "A thing so honey-colored and so tall." We suppose that it is a southern shrub or weed, Miss Reese being a native of Maryland. Will some Southern reader enlighten us? Here are the delightful lines: The Ipicewood burns along the grey, spent SKY, In moist unchimneyed places, in a wind, That whips it all before, and all behind, Into one thick, rude flame, now low, now high. It is the first, the homeliest thing of all-- At sight of it, that lad that by it fares, Whistles afresh his foolish, town-caught airs-- A thing so honey-colored and so tall! It is as though the young year, ere he pass To the white riot of the cheery tree, Would fain accustom us, here, or there, To his new sudden ways with bough and grass, So starts with what is humble, plain to see, And all familiar as a cup, a chair. Sunday morning beside a relatively small lake in northern Michigan is like any other morning, except for the ring- . ing of church bells in the Sunday town across the lake. The Morning sun shines as hotly as on any other day. The birds sing their usual songs. The fish bite as infre- quently as on Monday. In short, nature does not know the Sabbath day. In general the resorter makes as little discrimination as nature. Had he no cal- endar he would have no means, except the sound of the bells, of knowing that the first day had come round again. The Sab- bath calm, spoken of in hymns and ser- mons, does not exist either in nature or in the average summer cottage. We know that there are resorters who go to church on Sunday, people who put aside their everyday tasks and participate in pub- lic worship; who return to their cottages with the feeling of satisfaction that at- tends the discharge of duty. Truly, the Sabbath was made for man and not man for the Sabbath. If an in- dividual man believes that his observance of Sunday as a special day of rest and wor- ship does him a good that he could not otherwise achieve, then he ought certainly go to church on Sunday, whether he is on a vacation in the country or at home en- gaged in his regular occupation. If he does not so believe, what is his duty on Sunday morning ? oe 4 " SHORE LINES LITTLE FIRES I sit by little fires, Content to never go Out visiting beyond Their little sober glow. os ad 3 The kindly smile of love Is sufficient light For all my little fancies Through a little night. --WickIE Not a Shingle One! If you're cut up because your long contributions didn't ride our rails, it's 'cause we're not licensed to bob 'em. THIS SHOULD BE A BEST SELLER If you want to feel as important as a nervous angleworm talking to an absent-minded amoeba, read, or rather wrestle with Spengler's book on the downfall of our western civilization. It is a masterly piece of work, and well worth three months' study. You can't read a chapter before going to sleep, but you must promise not to go to sleep while reading a chapter. When you're through, you will have something upsetting to ponder, as you dash about in this declining world, as one of the declining specimens inhabiting it. --Oscar SHORE LINES PARADISE: No punning al- lowed. Fables for ladies, bandying room for gents. Have You a Little Corn Flake in Your Home? (From the Gulf Port, "Daily Gazette.") September 1: Gulf Port is glad to welcome an honored guest, Mr.-------mcmeeu-x , journalist, of Wilmette, Ill. Mr. ----eeemmaucean said in an in- terview with one of our best-looking reporters, that Gulf Port was a lovely city. "To me, Gulf Port has that something so necessary to a beauti- ful city. It has charm. It has vitality. It has pep. It has street cars, automobiles and even electric lights. In fact, it is a lovely city," said the famous but austere Mr. ------coeeeeooe in his quaint way. "I am considering giving up my internationally known attitude toward matrimony, Gulf Port has captivated me so." 7 § SIE wore a suit, chic hat of French pattern, spats (it is rumored). He drove an in- teresting car. CUPID'S CORNER Dear Lydia: Peg-Leg said of the Slave, "at dawn you'll love once more." Do you think he will? Honest Lydia, I'm in love with him even if he is a woman-hater and a cynic. Ask him if I have a chance will you? I'm bashi. : --EmMMmy. OH. Poetry, in thy name----------- My Dearest Shore Lines: Won't you please get this in before the Big Slave returns? To a Clinging Line Sing oh! Ye pliers and know not why the tiger sunsets. May"ith it not be the electrons seeing on? Ties, rails, poles and trolley, such alas mak'th the graggy* lines. *Chaucer. --MykE AND LYKE. THE SILVER SPOON Galsworthy's "The Silver Spoon" left us feeling sorry for Fleur, who was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and thought she could do what she liked; sorry for her father, old Soames, who always had to do the unpleasant things, and who couldn't remember when anyone had come to see him except to ask for something; sorry for Michael, who was too much in love with Fleur, and who tried too earnestly to wake up Parliment; sorry for Marjorie Ferrar, who was too petted and too modern for her own happiness; sorry for the three miserable war victims, who couldn't ad- just themselves when they had their chance; sorry for England, who lived on past prosperity, Eng- land who was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and still clutched it, although she was toothless. But, strangely, we were also sorry when we finished the book! --Tug THIRTEENTH BUCCANEER The Slave has put a silver spoon in our mouth-- and we hate to give it up! JANE ARNT AND LYDIA.