The San Francisco Examiner from San Francisco, California • 64

a a son cr-sa ft ii Vi ij "ss ss ia sss Is3 I 1 irvi 1 I iUi I Wntl tin kt ill ii ill lilt 111 1 1 iny 1 1 ill 1 lift 1 vvwii vivi I ivi i oil Miins I ss In a Village Inn, Billiard Players Can Stand Under Two Flags and Shoot the Milliard Balls From One Country to Another. Itight A Belgian Policeman Comes to the Knd of His Post and Faee to Face With a Iuleh Cop. I -M i. jm 5 -C V- i Jy- 1 i vf5 01.ACK JTAR PHOT-C'j I i- i sz. i 3 -J'- 1 J'i t.

r.n-y; i s-L' 1 Ji 1 One of the Interesting Spots in the Little Dutch-Belgian Village. The Dotted Line Shows the Curious Boundary. The Whitewashed Part of the House on the Right Is on Belgian Soil, and the Land Around It Belongs to Holland, as Indicated by the Letters and II. IUST over the Dutch-Belgian fron A tier, completely surrounded by Dutch territory, is a triangular situation was just as confusing among the shopkeepers and pro patch of ground occupied by the troubled citizens of the town of Baarle. Baarle, although it's all of a piece, is politically and legally a couple of places, one of them Belgian and the other Dutch.

The Belgians call their half Baarle-Hertog and the Dutchmen refer to their half as Baarle-Nassau. But socially and economically Baarle Hertog and Baarle Nassau form a unit and the imaginary dividing line between the two parts of the whole is a sometimes jagged, sometimes curving frontier that has been raising hob for many years and still has the citizens and the city fathers trying to get their affairs straight. As the photographs on this page show, the border line is a stumper. Here it runs right through the middle of a street. There it cuts through a dwelling or an inn so that some of the rooms are in Belgium and others are in Holland.

In one public building the house and over the line into Belgian domain. Technically he is a Dutch citizen and the Belgian police have no authority to arrest him for an unsocial act committed in another country. The law is so worded that extradition is difficult, or impossible, except for such serious crimes as burglary or murder. This being the situation, even a minor traffic violation poses complicated legal questions because a Dutch driver, although he might run into another car on the Belgian side of the line sometimes manages to careen across the border, cutting through the middle of the street, and escape to home territory. It is said that most of the lawyers Besides Its Many Ileadiw hos Over International Problems, the Town Has Two City Halls, Two Mayors.

II Indicates Dutch Territory, and That Area Belonging to Belgium. fessional men of the mixed-up border town. Although the place is well-behaved, considering its peculiar make-up, now and then some of its inhabitants breax the law. Time and again the brightest of Baarle's legal minds find themselves involved in cases that a Solomon, in all his wisdom, would quit in despair. Suppose, for example, that a Belgian-born husband, living in the Dutch part of town takes a swing at his wife and, having committed this common misdemeanor walks out of The finance-minded powers-that-be in Belgium and Holland understood the new ratio between the money of the two countries but it was almost impossible to explain the complicated arithmetic of exchange to the ordinary citizen.

The experts, although they did the best they could, never were able to tell a resident of Baarle who dropped in to a Belgian inn over the Dutch side of the line how to compute the cost of a stein of Belgian beer in Dutch money, or a beaker of Dutch ale in Belgian currency. The HI Wi XH ST 1 yards and the Belgians did likewise. It is the economic side of life that gives the town's twin mayors the mogt head a billiard table is so placed that one end of it is in Belgium and the other end in the Land of the Dutch. In the course of an evening's play the contestants cross and recross an international frontier hundreds of times. But such a situation doesn't bother the Baarle-ites much, although there aches.

When Belgium devaluated its franc, for example, the populace and the shopkeepers got helplessly tangled up. have been times in the past when the Dutch citizens warned their Belgian neighbors to stay in their own back 4 4 A 'vr .1 US 1 1 ill ill ill as 55 ss ss ss 1 lili II ss ss. 11 Pi 1 iir i in tllll 4 YLVESTER PLUMLEE, of Olney, Illinois, is something of a celebrity in his neck of the woods because of his good old-fashioned manner of wooing and the remarkable record of success (and failure) that he in Baarle spend at least two two months of the year recuperating from their professional labors in some of the better European sanitariums. The puzzling problems that beset good people of Baa rle cannot be blamed on the Versailles Treaty or any other piece of diplomacy folio wing the World War. The peacemakers were not called upon to decide to what country Baarle belongs and it was a good thing for them that they didn't have to handle this confusing puzzle along with their other difficult duties.

Baarle's curious tangle was tied into knots by the Dukes of Brabant who ruled over this section of Europe from the thirteenth to the seventeenth centuries. When it pleased them to do so they passed out feudal grants, valuable chunks of territory, in return for service rendered in war, or as concessions in the interest of peace. Most of these grants have since become definite parts of Holland or Belgium. But Baarle never wras cleared up. For centuries it has been as it is today a town curiously merged and, at the same time, oddly divided against itself.

--v ffl V1? Ji 'L' i i has piled up for himself since the days of the Spanish War. The other day Mr. Plumlee walked to the altar with Mrs. Viola Martin on his arm. Wlion he walked away again Mrs.

Martin was Mrs. Plumlce No. 10 and she said she wasn't at all afraid that their marriage woHild go on the rocks, as a lot of other spells of double-hitch had for her somewhat sad-faced spouse. "Yessir," said the happy bridegroom in answering the questions of the local reporter, "I courted 'my wife here, just like I did the others from behind the dashboard of a buggy and with the old horse jogging along out in front. I don't care what they say about these new-fangled automobiles.

You can't do better than ride in a buggy if it's romance that's on your mind." The streamlined, mile-a-minute motor car, according to the Romeo of Olney, Illinois, doesn't give a fellow time to do a thorough job of courting unless, of course, he spends as much time parked in some sylvan spot as he does burning up the highway. It is this veteran's emphatic opinion that love-making is a job that shouldn't be rushed. When you take your girl out for a ride, a conservative pace helps her to understand and appreciate what you're saying to her, and you have a chance, with the reins held lightly in one hand, to devote yourself to the matter of the moment without any fear of rolling over a precipice or smacking up against a tree. "Lone Star." the Giant Cow, Owned by Miss Jeanne Maulsby, of San Antonio, Texas, Shown in Front of the Animal. Lone Star Stands Six Feet and One Inch High and Weighs 2,800 Pounds.

I I I 1 Star iti ft I I 1 1 11 SS 1 1 it In sa I i 1 K. N. 1 1-8 km SS5 ss ss The biggest cow has been exhibited at many fairs. Mr. Plumlee is rather proud of the fact that he has had a total of ten wives in the last thirty-eight years, and he doesn't blame the horse and buggy for the bust-up of any of his marriages.

He doesn't remember all the details of some of his earlier matches, but he does recall that, beginning with his first wife, the names of his partners-in-matrl-mony were: Mary Lou, Lou, Sada, Stella. Lulu, Sarah, Sarah the Second, Laura and Julia. He thinks now that Viola is the prettiest nr.nic of the lot, and he sees no reason why this wedding a barn, but she's a good-natured brute and seldom gets a fit of farmyard temperament. Lone Star, despite her heroic proportions, never has been a heavy milker. The one calf she has borne is a normal anima which IN southern Texas there's a cow appropriately named Lone Star that has to be- seen to be believable.

Her mother was a less-than-normal-size Jersey tipping the scales at 530 pounds. Her father was a Brahma bull, whose ancestors came from far-away India. He was not overly large for animals of his breed. But Lone Star, an ordinary-size calf at birth just kept on growing and growing until, at the age of 11 years, she is, without doubt the biggest cow on earth. Her owner, Miss Jeanne Maulsby, of San Antonio, took Lone Star to the Centennial Exposition where she was seen by several hundred thousand people who, like the fellow who gazed on a long-necked giraffe for the first time, were inclined to remark, "There ain't no such animal." This bovine freak stands six feet, one inch high at the shoulders and weighs, believe it or not, 800 pound3 more than a ton when she isn't fat.

She has a huge pair of horns, long enough and thick enough to tear down gives no promise of growing into a freak like its mother. shouldn't be his last. Hope, in Mr. Plunilee, springs eternal. I 1 1T7I 1 SSfi.

SS I iiRiiiJj 111 UiH vill' All 11,1 1.11 with anything like that on her head." The style 1 sv 1 Parisian milliners are at it I aain. They go along, some of I thorn, thinking up reasonably modest modes and then they kick over the traces of conservatism and try to interest Milady in some bizarre and spectacular top-piece of the sort that the stately and shapely chorines wear in the naughty Folies Bergere. Take the hat shown in the photograph at the right. In the minds of a few enthusiastic style critics it is the feather hat to end all feather hats. It has a quill on it that projects about two feet in front of the wearer's face.

Outside of the feather it isn't especially new or startling, but it's the sort of chapeau that no woman, without plenty of elbow room could get away with. She'd have to keep out of crowds even at the smart race meets and stay out of those miniature French motor cars. One such hat, from the workshop of a Parisian modiste found its way to London where the creation won more boos than cheers. "What in blazes," exclaimed one eminent British designer of hats, "would the average woman do with a hat like that? Why it would take a whole closet shelf to store the thing and she'd have to be a contortionist to got the hat through one of those revolving doors. Imagine anyone wearing stieh a top-piece at dinner at one of those intimate little tables just wide enough to get a couple of plates and a thin vase of flowers on.

No, the idea is just too extreme. No one, except a burlesque queen or an incurable exhibitionist, would think of appearing in public czars of Paris wcrs not so sarcastic and in their comments on the creation, but they did predict that calls for such hats would be few, chiefly because the feather is so long that it would be difficult to handle on the street and, even indoors. If, for some strange reason, such hats should appeal to a great number of women, most of them would have to be ornamented with artificial feathers or by quills built up of many smaller feathers. The supply of feathers of the size shown is extremely limited and the things are expensive to get in Paris. Some cost as much as 200 francs.

Taris Milliners Are Going In for Feathers in a Big Way, as This Newly-Created Velvet Toque With Its Huge "Knife" Indicates. Genuine Feathers of This Size Are a Rarity, So Most of the I -urge Decorations Are Contrived of Smaller Feathers With Artificial Quills. '-3 to mro tntmk Fjivster riumlee, 63, and His Tenth Bride. Viola Plumlce, 54. Plumlee Wooed All His Wives in a Buggy.

His First Marriage as in 1898. ly Americ-m v.i4;ly. Inc. lireat Itiitain Rights Keservotl..