Bethel University - Spire Yearbook (St Paul, MN)

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THE ACORN 9 all kinds of ditching machinery, were soon on their way to the scene of the washout. The ground around the washout was too wet to drive on, so a plank bridge was made below the bank. Sacks were now brought, filled with dirt and hauled to the washout on the plank bridge. Here now began the construction of a bank of sacks. Load upon load of sacks was brought and piled up, until late that night, a bank forty feet high and over six feet wide at the top was ready. A thick layer of wet dirt was now placed over the sacks inside the canal and then canvass was spread over the whole so that no chance whatever would be given the water to break out again. The water had been turned on before the work was finished and almost as soon as the last canvass was laid the water passed by the washout. The water had only been running a few minutes when a small stream was seen trickling out at the foot of the sack bank. John and several others immediately plunged into the water and began to tramp around hoping to find the place where it started. In spite of all their efforts the stream at the foot of the bank kept steadily increasing. Soon the suction of the water was so hard that it caused a small whirlpool in the canal. This led to the speedy discovery of the hole. Several sacks filled with dirt were quickly thrown into it. Then the water was completely stopped with loose dirt put upon the sacks. The washout was repaired, and the next morning John was again riding down the canal, having his usual scraps with the farmers. FROM COLOGNE TO MAINZ FREDA SWENSON. A. B. From across the Rhine, the towers of the magnificent cathedral of Cologne greeted us, in the twilight, long before we reached Deutz and crossed the bridge into Cologne, the German Koln. This is an old city, full of historical memories, dating back to the days of the Romans, when it was merely a Roman camp, and later a Roman colony, Colonia Agrippina, called after the wife of Emperor Claudius. It was dark and raining. when our train pulled in at the Central Bahnhof. and we went directly to our hotel, one block from the cathedral square. The next morning found us early visitors at the cathedral, which is the chief object of interest in the city. It is built in the form of a cross, and is considered one of the finest Gothic edifices in Europe. But how is It possible to describe this amazing magnificence. when even in seeing it. the mind and the imagination seem unable to fathom the wonder in the builder’s art. without, towers extending toward the heavens, and within, lofty pillars, chapels, richly colored windows, monuments, figures and decorations of stone! We shall leave it to you to visit, to see and to describe. There was some disappointment for us. in that the day set for our trip up the Rhine was a rainy one, but the varying, picturesque and interesting sights along the river, compelled us to forget this. The first stopping-place was the neighboring Bonn, the “city of the Muses,” a university town, and to music lovers, the birthplace of Beethoven. Here, several tourists boarded our small but comfortable boat, crowded with passengers, most of whom were English or American. We passed the little town of Godesberg. with the steep cliff and the ruins of some old castle, bearing the same name, and soon saw on our left the “Siebengebirge,” whose high summits at one time were crowded with castles, but only on one of these are the ruins still remaining. Legends say that these mountains are the rocky ground, which seven giants, in answer to the people’s prayers, dug out

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THE ACORN $ under the canal. Mr. Johnson was silting on the gate as John came riding slowly up. Hello there.” shouted Mr. Johnson while John was yet far away, “I thought you would he coming soon, for 1 saw the water rising in the canal. How are you anyway— you look so tired?” Thank you,” said John, I am all right only a little hungry. You see I have not had a bite to eat since five o'clock this morning.” Ha! Ila! Is that all that ails the boy. Come right up to the house and my wife will have you feeling fine in a jiffy. You take your horse up to the barn and care for him while I go and tell Mary to get some grub ready.” When John had refreshed himself, he continued °n his round until he had been to all the farmers. He stayed at Johnson’s over night. The next morning John got up about three o’clock to look at the water. To his dismay he found that the water in the ditches was much lower than it had been the previous evening. He quickly saddled his horse and started off up the ditch to see what the matter. Either several of the farmers had opened there gates, or else the canal had washed out. The morning was very cold and damp. No rain had yet fallen, but it looked as if it might start at any moment. John rode on with feverish haste. He felt how the horse shivered from exhaustion; still he did not stop. What were a few hardships on his part, or the life of a horse, compared with all those magnificent crops. The rain soon began to fall and made the banks so wet that the horse slipped at almost every step. When John came to the side-hill he kept right on riding on the bank, because be could there better see if the water was increasing or not. although he knew that the horse might at any moment slip on the narrow bank and plunge headlong down the forty foot dike. The flow of water was steadily de- creasing as he went on. If all the water was rushing down that high bank, there certainly was no hope of stopping it by band. And just think what an opening it was making in the canal bank, and how many farms would not be destroyed by the runaway stream! There were many farms, also ditches, aiul levees, which it had taken years of hard labor to construct, that would be utterly destroyed. Then there were those larger farms, and especially that big company farm. Suppose the water was running over them. Their owners would sue the canal company for immense sums of money. These thoughts filled his mind as he rode on, blaming himself because he had not ridden up the canal the night before, instead of resting. As he rode on he heard a sound louder than the noise made by the wind and the rain. What was it? When lie came nearer he heard the roar of falling water. His worst fears were realized. The canal had washed out. and with terrible force the water was over-running acre upon acre of grain. He scarcely glanced at the tremendous wash-out as he hurried with the same feverish haste to the first waste canal, three miles farther up, to turn off the water. (The waste canals are dug at intervals along the main canal and into these, the water is turned at any emergency. They conduct the water to the river or some slough where it can do noharm). When John had the water running safely down this waste ditch, he telephoned up to headquarters, telling them of the wash-out and that they could use all the water, since it would only go to waste where he was. There was now a general stir-up througn-out the settlements below the washout. “What's the matter with the water? Where is that old ditch-rider.” were the words the farmers greeted one another with when they chanced to meet. Soon the awful truth was learned. Wagons, loaded with

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1U THE ACORN Horn the mountain which prevented the onward llow or the river. The highest of the “Sicbengebirge is called Drachenfels. Here the hero Sigfrid of the NiebeJungen-lied, or Sigurd Fafnesbane in the Scandinavian Edda, is said to have won the famous treasure, which was guarded by the terrible dragon. A little toward the south rose Rolandsek. However, as we passed the little island Nonnenwertli, with its cloister, the story came to us, or Roland, the Chivalrous Knight of Charlemagne's court, and of Hildegunde. While the castle on the now famous Rolandsek was being built, the warrior knight was summoned by the emperor, to turn his thoughts and his steps towards leading a crusade against the Moors. Sad tidings came later to Count Heribert of Draclien-burg. and to his daughter Hildegunde. She left the glorious castle for the convent on the island Nonnenwerth, and Roland returned too late. We had now entered the Rhine valley. The mountains, whose sides were wreathed with the trailing vineyards, hovered closely to the banks of the river, while again, a mountain here and there seemed to reced from the shores, giving place to small, white villages. At the juncture of the Moselle and the Rhine, lies the city Coblenz, with extensive fortifications on the one side, a triangle, bounded on the other two sides by these rivers. Even at the time of Drusus it was a mighty post. Directly across on the left bank is the fortress Ehrenbreitstein. Following the shores of Rhenish Prussia, we found that here they surpassed in beauty what we had seen before, and up the river along Nassau, the country seemed to have clothed itself in its most beautiful and picturesque array. But there was a decided change after we left Boppard. Steep, bare and desolate cliffs hemmed us in on both sides. Further on to the right was Sankt Goar, where a saint by that name, first preached the gospel to the poor people living on the Rhine. Most of these villages and towns are poor, and the people depend almost ‘ entirely on their vineyards, where it is possible to grow these, for their support. From Sankt Goar the river became very narrow, the cliffs bordered closely on the waters' edge, and we moved on very carefully, since this was the most dangerous part of the trip. The river made a decided turn, a steep perpendicular rock rose darkly on our left, while our boat steered along the right. We were passing the Lorelei Rock. Every passenger left his guide hook, rushed to the steamer's railing and strained his eyes to see the pole on the top of the cliff which marks the place where the beautiful Lorelei once sat. singing her wonderfully melodius songs to charm and allure the boatmen on the Rhine far below. Toward evening we approached Bingen. Probably because we had forgotten all about the rain, it. in turn, forgot us, for the sun now was sinking toward the horizon in full glory, and at sunset we were steaming by Hattos Island, or the Mouse Tower on a small island just off of the city of Bingen. Here, too. every one of us felt more or less curious, eager to see the desolate little town. The avaricious, heartless Archbishop Hatto of Mainz is said to have met in this stronghold a cruel death, being devoured by the mice which had followed him from his palace across the river. Bishop Hatto. built this tower in order to stop the passing ships and to collect toll from them. But history does not make this imperious prelate so cruel and merciless as the legends do. Our day's journey came to an end at Maniz, often written Mayence. one of the oldest cities of Germany, which still retains many relics, belonging to the days of the Romans. No trace of the ruins is to be seen, of the castle built by Emperor Trojan, nor of that belonging to Charles the Great, nor of Gustafsberg. the fortress of Gustavus Adolphus. The streets running along the river are modern, and handsome, quite different from the others in the city, and a