The Chemawa American, April 01, 1915, Page 29, Image 32

THE CHEMAWA AMERICAN
29
which the farm is noted is located in the front of the house. It is so neat
and clean that a lady might walk through it without soiling her dress.
From ninety to one hundred cows, all full-blood Jerseys, are milked, and
one old darkey does all the milking. He does his work so faithfully
that Mr. Jackson is afraid to trust others with the milking. Careless
milkers might spoil his cows. The cream and butter are famous in
Nashville and the surrounding country so famous, indeed, that restaur
ants advertise it by printing at the top of their bill of fare, "We use Belle
Meade cream." People pay higher prices in order to get Belle Meade
cream and butter.
Thoughts from Mr. Taylor's lecture to the second division:
A maxim for dairymen: "Feed high; milk dry." A man who is a good
judge of stock is always kind to stock.
Sixth
Victor Mage, a boy about sixteen years of age, has been ill with throat
trouble for about a week, but is improving rapidly, and will soon be able
to attend school again.
Chemawa is an ideal spot for scenery. One reason for its beauty may
be owing to to the fact that great care is taken of its lawns and trees.
Its flowers are now in bloom and so are the fruits trees. This sight is
pleasing to the eye, when one is standing on an elevated spot which
commands a view of the entire campus.
Mrs. Loos, the Domestic Art teachers, is teaching the fifth and sixth
grade girls embroidering and other needle-work. The girls are inter
ested in. their work, and seem to be progressing rapidly.
The blacksmith shop has recently saved the school both time and
expense in fitting out the gymnasium with quite an assortment of bars,
rings, ladders, dumb bells, Indian clubs, etc. The turning lathe from the
old wagon shops was brought into our new shop and the blacksmiths
have become experts in making dumb bells and Indian clubs. The
school has nearly enough of both now. We are looking forward to a
treat in the way of a gymnastic exhibition at Commencement.
When I was in the hospital I did not want to stay there. I wanted
to get outside, but I had to lie still in bed to keep the pains from com
ing on me. I had a peculiar kind of sickness. I do not know what it
iscalled, but I will try to describe what it is like. It seemed as if my back
was one solid big bone and that the bone wras broken in two and wTas
held together only by my skin. Every little while the ends of the brok
en bones would rub against each other and cause me such pain that I
would cry aloud. I could not raise my head, arm, feet, or any part of
my body without making the pain come. The stiller I would lie the