PAGE FOUR
THE ECHO
August, 1^
The Eelio
PUBLISHED MONTHLY BY AND FOR EMPLOYEES OF
ECUSTA PAPER CORPORATION, CHAMPAGNE PAPER
CORPORATION AND ENDLESS BELT CORPORATION
AT PISGAII FOREST, NORTH CAROLINA
Copyrighted, 1945, By Ecusta Paper Corporation
ECHO STAFF
Joto D. Eversman Editor
LucUle Heffner Assistant Editor
Jack Alexander j Sports Reporter
“Hank” Newbury Safety Reporter
DEPARTMENT REPORTERS—Sula Cox, Eula Grey, Walter Kay,
Lorena O’Kelley, Donna Wright, Emmett Clark, John Goolsby,
Jack Rhodes, Nell Waldrop, Harry S. Kolman, Helen Kimzey,
Sara Loftis, Maude Stewart, Bertha Edwards, Annie Lou Ham
lin, Thelma Glazener, Eileen Nelson.
PUBLICATIONS COMMITTEE—John D. Eversman, F. S. Best,
Raymond F. Bennett, Walter K. Straus, J. O. Wells, W. M. Shaw,
H. E. Newbury,
The Poet’s Comer
Beneath The Pisgah
“The poet gives us the em
inent experiences only—a god
stepping from peak to peak, nor
planting his foot but on a moun
tain.” —Emeirson.
Just Little Hunks
Of Real Stuff!!
In many cases, what passes for
tolerance is merely a well-bal-
anced mixture of contempt and
pity. ,
Wives don’t have to take the
names of their husbands at mar
riage if they don’t want to. It is
all a matter of custom—not law.
Of all the small electric appli
ances in use today, the electric
iron is the most popular. Twenty
million of them have been sold.
The electric toaster is second.
You might think -the apple or
.the orange is the world’s most
popular fruit. ’Taint so. The grape
leads, comprising more than half
the total world fruit production.
The apple is the most important
tree fruit in the temperate zones
and the orange first in the trop
ical areas.
One of the major match com
panies is now marketing a water
resistant match that lights even
after hours of submersicin in wa
ter. Developed during the war,
the match is a feather-in-the- cap
for the company, since almost from
the time the match was invented in
1835, match companies have tried
to produce a match that would
light, though wet.
You think your laundry is slow?
In the days of ’49, California gold
miners sent their laundry by sail
ing ship clear to Hawaii, and
sometimes waited six months to get
it back.
When a person butts into a con
versation with “I just want to get
in my two cents’ worth,” usually
his contribution isn’t worth any
more than that.
A Chinese visitor says, “Funny
people, you Americans. You take
a glass, put sugar in it to make it
sweet, and lemon-to make it sour.
You put in gin to warm you up,
and ice to make you cool. You say,
‘Here’s to you!’, and then you
drink it yourself.”
The Month Of
September
QUOTATIONS
“If thou art a master, sometimes
be blind; if a servant, sometimes
h^e deaf.”—Fuller.
“For most of us, life holds no
good years and few good days, but
multitudinous good moments, if we
recognize their presence.”—Agnes
Repplier,
"Each thought that ii welcomed
In far-off russet cornfields,
where the dry
Grey shocks stand peaked and
withering, half concealed
In the rough earth, the orange
pumpkins lie.
Full-ribbed; and in the windless
pasture-field
The sleek red horses o’er the
sun-warmed ground
Stand pensively about in com
panies,
While all around them from the
motionless trees.
The long clean shadows sleep
without a sound.
—Lampman.
September ... a month of gold
en, hazy days and cool, clear
nights . . . the month the seasons
change, when each day seems to
carry in it a little of the summer’s
heat and a promise of the cool of
fall. September is a busy month
when the “tanned farmers labor
without slack”, children start their
schooling again and the working
world, shaking off its August dol
drums, once more shoulders the
duties of its trade.
Labor Day, September’s only
holiday, is this year, 64 Septembers
old. The celebration of Labor Day
on the first Monday in September
was inaugurated in 1882 by the
Knights of Labor. Today it is a
holiday in every state in the un
ion and all the Canadian prov
inces.
September got its name from
the Latin word “septem” mean
ing seven, because it used to be
the seventh month until the Ro
mans, according to their fancy,
made it ninth. Blue is the color
of September, its gem, the sap
phire, its flower, the morning
glory.
Down The Hill
T ogether
Let’s run down the hill together.
Fly like flags in windy weather!
There’s a spring will quench our
thirst—
Race, to see who gets there first!
Breathless, down the sun-swept
hill.
Breathing deep, we’ll drink our
fill
Kneeling in a shady place,
Dripping, laughing, face to face.
Lovely weather, lovely wind!
Coats unbuttoned, hair unpinned!
Downhill'to the spring we fly,
Heart to heart, my love and I.
—Kingsley Tufts.
Old House In The
Country
Silence reigns here: all things wait
A hand to lift the long-latched
gate.
There is a whisper on the air;
In the grass eyes are aware
Hidden, furtive, of the stranger
Who wears a face of nearing dan
ger.
Cobwebs seal the windows fast
And the chipmunk hurries past
Wearing autumn’s color laid
On his back like copper shade.
His is the only shadow here.
And he wears the shield of fear.
Something stirs that is not sound;
Something moves across this
ground
Too light for step, too fleet for
sight.
In the gathering dusk of night.
—Eleanor Aletta Chaffee.
The Unblessed
and recorded is a nest egg, by the
side of which more will be laid.”
—Thoreau.
“If a man harbors any sort
of fear, it percolates through all
his thinking, damages his person
ality, makes him landlord to a
ghost.”—Lloyd C. Douglas.
“The reason why people in love
never tire of being together is be
cause they arc always talking of
themselves.”—La ^lochefoucald.
"Labor disgraces no man; unfor
tunately you occasionally find men
dlij^race labor."—Ulytsei S, Orant
They are not blessed who must
in darkness sing
Swift mystic melodies that clog
the throat,
Who seize the lyre—and play a
.silent note,
A vanished prelude on a broken
string.
They are not fortunate who try
to write
With dry and dusty pen to tell
themselves
Of things they cannot know; who
fill the shelves
With volumes—and the page still
virgin white.
How lucky is the scholar who can
tell
With sure pedantic wisdom, that
the well
Is only water, how the sky is
made.
And why the colors in the sun
set fade—
Who never hears the echoing of
sweet.
Clear childish laughter in an
empty street.
—Margaret Hatchet Flook.
Bookv Corner
“Books are a languid
—Montaigo®’
^ari"
The mere phrase “LOVE
LONDON” should strike a
spot in many hearts, since so
Americans have recently
several years there. It is
of Gilbert W. Gabriel’s ne
novel, concerning three
a girl. Trigger, one-time ^ j
driver in Minneapolis;
Mexican, from Texas, ^nd
r bral-
lovely gypsy refugee from ^
tar, all three Americans ©3“
unconscious response to her.
Under constant tenseness
buzz-bomb attacks and the c® j
ing relationships of these 'jj.
moving and satisfying jjOfl'
suits. You who were GI’s
don will most surely read
Ruth Moore’s story.
of
HANDLE” is nearing the
the best sellers for July
gust. The background is 3 th®
fishing village in Maine, w*
Stilwell family the central .j
acters. Pete and his sister
knew no limits if there was
in the offing—and Willie
who fished for a living,
money was not the most o®®
achievement in life. Stabl®> jjy
est, and well written, jjjt
sheer pleasure with your
“Little Spoon Island” in
Maine.
We Americans seem
that our adventure stori jj,
“wild and wooly.” So, just
Cain attempts to give
that in “PAST ALL
The scene is laid in Virgiii*
Calif., in the midst of
silver boom. For love, j j jf'
life and thrills, (as those
forded) be a reader oi
ALL DISHONOR.”
Cas'
;tie-
STARK FEAR
It was a little boy’s first time
at the opera. He watched the con
ductor in the pit waving his ba
ton and when the famous soprano
started to sing he asked his moth
er, “What is the man shaking his
stick at the lady for?”
“Ssh,” his mother whispered, “he
Isn’t shaking his stick at the lady.”
“Then what’i *he hollerlijg for!"
ho demanded,
DEBORAH” by Marian
is in reality a character stu^.j^ffii
woman who wanted her ^ jj^r
to have the “culture”
on a small Dakota farm- ^
humorous and full of .jpg
Deborah, who was fascina
the opposite sex and . 0
aware of that fact. ha'’'*.'
marrying Will Trueman
some bachelor and gra
duate
ted
of'
local college, she
riage to be a glamorous ,
It was adventurous, j
doubt, but not as she ® l>
You’ll remember Debor
years to come! „py ,■
We proudly boast
“FRONT PAGE HISTORY
SECOND WORLD WAR.
corded by the New •
Tribune. It contains ".jpg
stories, photographs of ^
personalities and incidents ^
tides of surrender. A
The complete war rec jai j
tends through nearly "'jji
and Sunday editions of
known newspaper. High P js ‘
the six year global
fleeted in a leading f#"
^T«m To ^