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About Oregon City courier. (Oregon City, Or.) 1896-1898 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 13, 1896)
THE STEERSMAN. 3'tir foro shroud bar tlm moonlit samj; Tlie "rt ri'il lap I In sea: Aloft nil laul, where tilt kind floutU nkliii. Alow to (ln cutwater snug mill trim. Ami tin- inn" t the wheel sing luff, "(Mi, ki ii ro'tni iiihI lee room And n (fiili- l run afore: From the Hidden Cute to Siindu Strait, Itut my lic.ui lien nug ashore." Iler hull mllri high, her nose dip low, , The roller llimll alee ' " ! Wallow iiml ilii it ml the untosHcd Hitew SemlK iieiirt llirolin quivering throWgll iiml through Tv " Ami the mini lit the wheel low; sings he: , ". ; (Hi. "en ro.un ami lee room Ami n gale to run afore; From the (iohleii (inte to Siimln Strait, , Hut my heart lien mini; ashore." The helmsman's uruiH are hrowu anil linnl, Ami pnekeil In his forenrm be , , A xliip. mi anchor, a love knot trim, .. A heart of reil nml an arrow of Wile. ' .,. And the tun n at the wheel sings lowj lug he: ' " . "Oh. w-a room ami lee room And a gale to run afore: From the Hidden Hate to Siiriilrt"Kr'ra'?t,f Hut my heart lien snug ashore." k -Bookman. TJIK MORTAL CQIL. These two. Alliin and David, were brothers; and. what Is often more than brothers do, they loved one another. While they were mere boys they had been left orphans, friendless, alone with the world and with necessity. They were Industrious and frugal, tlielr puree was common, and working thus together they managed to keep off star vation and debt. They were now In the period of early manhood. Allan, the elder, was 23 .yearn of age, ami David 20. They occupied two pleasant rooms In a respectable lodging-house, lived well, and had some motley saved In the bank. "At first I used to he afraid that we could not make It." Allan would say to bis broth er, when they talked In the evening of their life and their affairs; "It was Riich a hard struggle. But there Is no longer any doubt that we are going to succeed In the world." To this prophecy, which Allan rejoic ed to speak, David would always as-; sent, with an enthusiasm that came not from any conlldence In his own powers, but solely from his belief In his elder brother. The difference between the brothers was more than that of yeare. as each of them well understood. Allan was strong, keen, and determined. David was gentlo and sympathetic, but a little dull. They were alike, however, Jn their Intense devotion to oue an other. It happened In the midst of this which they regarded as prosperity that Allan was suddenly beset by a grievous Ill ness. It had been written down In the pitiless law lMxik of nature that he nhould pay for the sins of some ances tor, of whose very existence he was Ig uorant. The disease ran Its slow course through many weeks, and there were now and again critical times wliern the heart of the younger brother, watching by night, stood still. At last It came to an end. The sen tence of nature was fullllleil. The life of the young man was spared, but the disease left him blind and a cripple. As Allan began to recover his strength, and the dumb consciousness of sulTer Ing gave way to active thought, be de manded .! know how soon the ban dages were to lie taken from Ills eyes. To this nml to oilier questions of a slii lhir mil lire, the doctor who attended him returned evasive answers. There upon, Allan, half guessing the truth, became silent. In the nieaiillme. Duviil, also silent, clung desperately to a frag ment of hope. Ono morning the doctor, as be was about to leave, motioned across the sick man's bed that he wished to speak with him alone. They went out into the hall, where the physician sat down upon a chair and David leaned back igalnst a corner of the wall. Presently Allan heard the confused murmur of their talk, lie climbed out of the bed and dragged himself with dilllculty across the floor Into the sitting-room. Placing his ear against the hall door, which was not quite closed, be heard all, unseen and unsuspected. "It Is useless for me to continue these dally visits," said the physician: "here after I will come only when you send for me." "Well, what shall we do about It about his eyes?" They will probably not pain him any more. You can take off the bandage whenever you are ready to tell him the whole truth." David's lips grew very white. "You moan that he will never recover?" he said. The doctor looked up at him sudden ly with a frown. "Heally," he said, "I thought I bad made tbo state of things pretty clear to you." "Yes," said David; "I kuow but I kept hoping." "Sly dear boy. I am sorry, but I can not even let you hope. If your leg was cut off would you expect another to grow In Us place? A part of the eye Is gone ami that ends It." "And the lameness?" "He will always walk with crutches." Perhaps it was well that no mortal eye saw the wan face pressed toward The opening In the door. There was a shuffling across the floor, and Allan drew himself uixin the bed again, wh.-re lie lay motionless and silent. though all Ids lHdy seemed to quiver and bla thoughts to cry aloud. Presently the footsteps of the doctor Miuiidcd on the stairs and the lower ,liHr opened snd shut Hut nearly an tour passed before the younger brother enme back to the room,' When be came t was with the belief that he was pro pared to speak to Allan and tell him alt. lie looked for a moment at the figure curled on the bed and shook his bulid He Would wait. ' Several days passed. ' Then In the evening Allan said suddenly to his brother: "David, what Is the matter? Perhaps Imagine It but Is there not something that you want totnlk to me alKitit?" "Yes." said the other, startled., ."It Is about my eyes and my lame ness, Is It not?" ' l',"Yes." x"'- ' . TJi4biie had come.. He sat down by ihu, bed. and took his brother's hum)., iyjown trembled violently, but that of the sick man was quiet. "Potboy." said Allan, as though 'not be but David were the one"' upon wWii misfortune had fallen. - He striked his brother's arm gently for a moment, and then whispered: "You ncjjd not tell me. David. I know nil. I latched when you and the doctor talk ed, about me." . Di'ivid spoke also In a whisper: "I could not bear to think of It-and so I cm'ild not speak to yon." ' ''Poor, dear brother," said Allan, but Villi perfect calmness. They sat in silence for a few moments, -and then Allii'ii said: "Now, David, we have looked the worst of It In the face; let us examine some of the smaller trou bles. What alKiut money matters?" "Oh. Allan," cried the other, "don't ask about that yet." i "v.w" until Hie elder brother nrmiy; "you .must tell me all. He frank and fair, as I would be with you." So David told. The money In the bank was all gone, of course, and there were debts to the doctor, the chem ist, and the landlady. Having explained thus far. David hung back, and It took determined questioning on the part of Allan to .bring out the rest of the story. Their friends at the club, knowing the trouble of the brothers, had-raised some money-a considerable amount for their benefit. "It Just paid the nurse," said David. The proud lines In the other's face deepened to harshness. After a mo mentary struggle he managed to say aloud: "It was very kind of them." But to himself Into his pillow he mut tered: "My God! This is the beginning!" "I am afraid." said David, "that It will be some time before we can pay nn the debts. Everyone seems to bo good about It. The doctor says he will wait years if need be." "Yes," replied Allan absently. "Of course, you know what my pay ls,M continued the younger Drotner, "and you also know what our expenses am. 'well, they don't fit. I've been thinking about It. We must move Into one room and must economize in vari ous other ways." "Yes," said Allan. "The worst of it Is," Dnvld went on, without looking at his brother, "that we cannot get the things you ought to have. It is so hard for you to be all alone here " "Never mind about that. Davy," said Allap quickly; "what we must think about Is how to clear up those debbj and how to live on your pay." After this the old confidence seemed to be restored between the brothers. What small part of the day David was uot nt work he spent with Allan, and they talked of their affairs Just as they had done before the misfortune came. Yet there was one thing David failed to understand, although he studied over It a great deal. Why was Allan so calm and undlstressed? It was not like him. "Can It be that be docs not really ap preciate what It means to be blind and helpless?" thought the younger broth er; "he was always so proud, ambitions and full of hone. And he Is sensitive. 1 thought he would suffer." The sick mail's strength gradually re turned. Presently he was able to move about the room, and then, accompanied by the landlady's little daughter, he managed to make short excursions Into the street. He wore a dark shade over his eyes and walked on crutches. The various economics which the brothers had talked over were prac ticed, and yet every day they ran more Into debt. David's pay was very small; it was not enough to keep two people iu comfort one of them nn Invalid needing medicines and a physician's care. Yet Allan remained apparently unconcerned. At last David found work to do In the evening. He now earned enough to cover their necessi ties, but Allan was left alone most of the time. One evening David had nn unexpect ed vacation. An accident caused the establishment where he worked to close early, and he hurried to the room, eager for the pleasure of a few hours with his brother. When he came to the street door he said to himself: "1 will go up quietly and surprise hlni." lie ascended the str.lrs with a quiet tread. The door to the room was open, nml be saw Allan seated at the table, moving a pencil slowly over a large sheet of paper. "The poor fellow is trying to write." said David. Then he uotieed that the edges of the sheet were notched at intervals, and that It had not been folded In creases. As the blind man w rote, he felt for these uoteh es, and then ran his finger aloug the crease In advance of the pencil. Full of tender sorrow and pity David crept up behind, that he might put his hand on Allan's shoulder and thus make bi presence know n, but happen ing to glance down upon the paper he saw the words, "My dear brother," and he knew that the writing was for him to read. He did not give himself time to wonder thnt Allan should be writing to him. but began Instantly to decipher the misshapen characters on the paper. In a few moments he had overtaken the pencil. This Is what lie read: "My IVar Brother Yon will find this note fastened ot the outside of the door. Please reaJ it through to the end be fore you eufer. Perhap you will then think It best not to enter nioue:. "David, my brother, these words come to you from the dead. I have de stroyed the pitiful fragment of Ufo which fate left me. You were wont to be so strong and brave can you read I on calmly now, and try to understand j mo when I tell you my reason? Can you love me nud trust me as yon always have done? I believe that you can and j will, and that Is why 1 have dared to take this step. "Several days ago I procured some poison which I-have kept concealed' from you. Through It . deuth comes swift but painless." .' David watched the slow, laborious making of the last few words, and It gave him time to think. Where was tlii' poison? lie glanced across tlie room to a chest of drawers. There was . n-H small drawer at the top which. Allan bad used exclusively, and which Wji.! now half open. .With noiseless St.ep,. the younger brother crept ovjrilu floor to this chest of drawers. The guess wiis correct. Hidden, under some handkerchiefs lay a small vial, filled with a colorless fluid. . . David took It up, shook -It- luochnnN call.v. and then turned It over and over. In his hands, while he tried, to think what he had better do. At any moment Allan iiilirht finish his writ flic a'litl come In search of the poison. It'wmild theft be necessary for David to speak aloud and explain, and his brother, wouldJ suffer the torture of humiliation. That would not do. Better to carry away the, vial and make no explanations, unless they were demanded. He. was a bob t to steal out of the room ' when ''t'lVe thought struck blm that his brother.'lf-' determined, could secure death by other means than this one bottle of poison. There was u loaded revolver In the drawer that must be taken away. But what was to prevent Allnn from obtain ing more poison? . He was accustomed to buy his own medicines, nud now he was strong enough to get about. Ah, there were so many ways! 1 The blind mnn seated at the table wrote on. feeling his way carefully along the folds in the paper. David crouched upon the edge of the bed, watched him and thought: No; merely to remove the means of death would not save Allan. The only hope lay In appearing to him, In plead-, Ing with him for his own life, in conjur ing him by the love which held them together, uot to do this terrible wrong. What should he say? David was not easy of speech. His very thoughts were blunt, ill-assorted and confused. Deep in his soul he felt that his brother was about to make a mistake one of the most awful of which life contained a possibility. This feeling was inde pendent of religion or of superstition; It was a part of David's very existence. But how was he to speak of this to Allan, who seemed to understand every thing so much better than he? And. now it suddeuly occurred to him that he really did uot know his brother. Evidently this desire of self-destruction had been in Allan's thoughts for many weeks, aud yet he, nearest to him of all beings on earth, had never been allowed to suspect It. This was why Allan hud beeu so calm and had accepted his misfortune so lightly. Tor tures of sorrow there must have been, unspeakable agonies of ruined hope, all eudurcd lu secrecy and silence. It seemed to David that he himself, and uot Allan, must have lacked the power of sight. But what was to be done now? The pencil was still moving slowly over the paper. David rose from the bed, and resuming his place behind the blind null) read on: "This concerns yon and me and no one else; is it not so. brother? The world Is far away from us: we are alone together." "Now. what has existence for me? When first I learned I was to be always blind and a cripple there came with the knowledge an Impulse for death. But I put It away and said: 'No, let me think of this more fully. The calamity seems now to sweep over all of life. Perhaps when 1 am more calm I shall flud that much remains untouched.' So I waited and thought, and Iu the end I found one thing, the happiest of being with you. That is real and lasting, and for a time 1 asked myself If It were uot enough. But I remembered that my existence, wretched nud useless as It was, meant more of labor aud hard ship for you. and I thought, too, of what sorrow you must feel for me, and the pleasure of being with you turned to bitterness. There was nothing left "But you you love me and you have a right to my life. It Is for your sake that I have spent these long weeks In silent, solitary debate, after every other doubt was cleared away. At one time I had almost decided to beg my life of you, as I might nny other favor, but 1 dared not. Yet I am begging It now after I have taken It. "Dear brother, I know that you are unselllah. I believe that for my sake you would give up the greatest happi ness which life affords as I would for yon. Can you not, then, allow me the little that I take when I deprive my self and you of my existence? If, now, the conditions were reversed if I were the one to lie strong and well, while you were crippled and blind I try to think of It in that way. in order that 1 may understand It better and Judge more fairly I should, of course, feel an Intense sorrow " What was the matter? The pencil was moving slower and slower. At last It stopped. David looked np at his brother's face and saw it working with strong emotion. Then, after a moment the pencil went on: that you should suffer so, and It would be an unspeakable happiness to help, to work for you you would be dearer to me than, a thousand times, than If " "Oh. what am 1 saying!" exclaimed the blind man, alouX The pencil drop- red from his fingers and liotbrew blm self bark In his chair. "I could not let hlm"go',""he cried; "It would be cruel In him to leave me. But'I what will he oh. Davy!" He leaned upon the table with his face resting Iu his open hands, while David stood watching almost breath less In the struggle to keep silent. At last Allan caught up the sheets of pa per on which he had been writing and tore them to fragments. "It Is over." si)ld David. Ho restored the bottle to Its place and crept past his brother out of the room, Presently Allan heard the street door noisily open mid shut and David's tread sounded upon' tiio stall's. That night, as the brothers were nliotit to' retire, Allan said: A'Drtvul.v; there Is something that I w,nu,t,to promise you. I have already promised myself, but I want to unsure you of It also." "Yes." said David; "what Is It?" vmjWlYiU I had better not tell you what lt.is.rYou would lie distressed, perhaps. But I promise you." . j'.Very well," said David; "let It re main" a secret, then. But I accept the promise?' Spare Moments. . .i 5 . A TlirlllhiR Feat. ..pulley, protests that It was nothing, nt nil; Mrs. Johnson Insists that It was a. daring feat, of which few would he capable. Biwldelits of Bath Beach and .Bensouhurst share Mrs. Johnson's view. Alrs, Jay S. Johnson's home lu Bay Soth street, Bensouhurst, Is one of the finest In that place. Iler horses, he hind, which she nud her daughter Mlg non'take the air each niHruing, could be driven by no less expert horsewom an. "Charles Colley, of No. 11 West 10th street, this city, who Is working at Bath Beach this summer, Is a practiced bicy clist. He was wheeling up 18th ave nue In Bath Beach yesterday morning when Mrs. Johnson's handsome turn out came In sight Mrs. Johnson was driving," and beside ber sat her little daughter. Colley dismounted from his wheel and . stood at the roadside to watch the dash ing 'equipage as It swept past Hardly had the carriage rolled by when tho horses broke into a run. In an Instant Colley saw that Mrs. Johnson was pow erless to control them. leaping on his wheel, the bicyclist put forth every energy In a race to over take the horses. Fust as they went in their mad run, the wheelmnii went faster. Soon he was even with the carriage, then alongside one of the plunging horses. A burst of speed, and he was at the animals' heads. ' Keeping one hand on the handlebar, the bicyclist shot out his arm nnd seiz ed the bridle of one of the horses. Still pedaling, ns he held to the frantic ani mal, he called to the terrified woman and child uot to be alarmed, but to sit perfectly quiet Hiding In this fashion, Colley saw that he was powerless to check the speed of the runaways. . Grasping the bridle with a firmer hold, with a mighty effort he kicked his bicycle from under blm, rolling it to one side. Then, with all the strength that was lil'lilm, he swung to the horse's back. Onee astride the animal, the rost was easy, and In a short time the animals were standing still. Dismounting, he: stood by the horses until he had them perfectly quiet, then discouraging Mrs. Johnson's protestations of gratitude, ha returned to his bicycle, mounted and rode home. Not so much ns n harness buckle had suffered In the runaway. New York Herald. Tea et $175 a Pound. Tea at ?17." a pound! If a grocet should ask the average housewife that kind of a price she would be likely to drop dead. Yet there is such ten, and O. N. Merrlweather, a tea merchant of Cincinnati, has some of It. A little of this goes n long way nnd five ounces of it constitutes his stock. Very little of this tea Is ever brought to this country. Indeed, little of it is marketed anywhere, as it Is extremely rare, and millionaires, even, if the price was no object, would have difficulty In getting hold of It This $175-a-pound tea Is known as the Ceylon golden bud. It Is the pick ings of the first tips of the blossoms. The greatest care must be taken In the picking, nnd nothing but the brljht golden-hued tip taken off the blossoms. All the picking of this grade is care fully done by hand. The process of drying these tips Is as delicate as the picking. The annual output Is esti mated at 12,000 pounds, valued at $2,100,000. But five pounds of this tea has evei been known to have reached the United States, excepting a few pounds placed on exhibition at the World's Fair. A rich lady residing at New York wrote to Mr. Marr, the agent of the Ceylon tea-growers for America, at Chicago, and asked him to try to procure for her If possible five pounds of this remark able and expensive tea. Mr. Marr was successful In securing six pounds of the precious article. The New York lady gave a check for $1,000 for her five pounds. Mr. Merrlweather. who is a personal friend of Mr. Marr. received five ounces of the extra pound pro cured. Beware of Tight Garters. Bicyclists, male and female. shonM beware of tight garters and of stock ings which are too thick. A gartet which Is wide and has little pressure Is Just as effective as a narrow one' very tight The result of wearing the latter is bound to be bad, it being a fer tile producer of varicose veins. j How tantalizing heaven will be to the women, to see so much gold lying round, and no chance to spend it! j Nome anil Nil in Iter the Rnl. Much of tlie Isolation of the farmer is caused by the time consumed In finding his residence, says Farm nnd Home. A certain numbered house on a .cer. tain named street makes one at homo In town, but the farmer Is n trapgur( In n strange land when seeking a feb low farmer In an adjoining county. The wide-awake agriculturists of Con tra Costa County, California, a few years ago set about to remedy this un fortunate condition nnd adopted what1 lias since been known ns the ten-block system, that Is. the naming anil uieas-J tiring of all country roads and dividing them Into ten blocks to the mile, The enactment of the plan was secured from the county board of supervisors aud work under It was begun nt once. Bonds were named lu ns long lengths us practicable. Names of towns and living residents were not used. Some landscape feature, some historical as sociation suggested the name. Bear Creek road, Mine Bldge crossing. Lake Connex. Mountain drive. Walnut way. Vista Bio, (Irangercxlt nnd Happy Vub ley local are examples. A list of the roads was made, beginning with those going northward from the county sent, followed by those going easterly, south erly and westward. Complete records as to local objects are kept nnd gulde- TEN BLOCK SYSTEM OF NAMING boards erected. The measuring begins nt the center of the street Just In front of the courthouse nnd proceeds along the nearest line of travel. The village streets have the customary 100 num bers to the block, but outside the limits the country house numbers are used, two to each block of 528 feet (32 rods) of road. Odd numbers are on the left hand, even on the right. A gate on the right-hand side, with its right potjt 3 1-10 miles by road from the court house, Is 31 blocks distant, nnd Is in the 32d block. Hence Its road number Is 04, or twice 32. A gate just across the road would be numbered G3. Half the even numbers of a. block divided by 10 always gives its extreme distance from the begiuning. Each house hius the number of the block upon which Its gate or entrance is located, as tW for the first house. Other houses, built on the same block take the numbers 04a. (i4b to 04.. On the fence, or a post, a line Is placed showing the numbers and the divisions between blocks.' On the right Is 04 C.2. On the left Is marked 01 I 03. At the end of each mile (ten blocks) an X Is painted inside a circle. The half-mile Is marked by a V in a semi-circle. There are 20 road numbers to the mile. The ten-block system works as well with houses miles apart as with those, closer, even to 20 feet apart. The distance between any two house numbers in the country can he easily reckoned. The homes of farmers can be quickly found. Stran gers can be given clear directions. The mileage of officers can be quickly calcu lated. Bond work can be accurately located by Us block number. A coun ty directory could be printed with farm names and road numbers of every citi zen. A former postmaster general has declared that the ten-block system of numbering country roads would remove the only obstacle to rapid and accurate free postal and telegraph delivery to farmers. Contra Costa farmers expect to secure free delivery at once, under the new appropriation by Congress for this purpose. Feedinir Apple to Hos There is a good deal of nutrition in apples, especially those of sweet vari eties. Where they are plentiful and cheap, as sweet apples are almost sure to be when the crop is abundant they are good feed for hogs. But they are not a full ration, and should always be fed cooked aud mixed with some kind of grain or meal, which should be put In while the cooked apples are hot, and thus cooked with them. The ap ples make the grain much more digest ible than It would lie without them. Thus the appetite Is' kept from being cloyed, which is the greatest difficulty In feeding grain to animals of any kind. , Good Totter In Winter. With care in making the proper ar rangements, gowl butter can readily be made In wiuter. and the cost be not materially increased. There must be fresh cows. Oood. warm, dry shelter, plenty of good feed and water, proper arrangements for handling the milk and cream So as to secure the desired temperature for cream raising and but- -j-- .1M';;,if;L"('3''' ' -V ter mnklng, and with these essentials, 1.1 nt ,.lilf n ullirlillv tllcnUKcd cost' perpoiihd ciin be iiiade. But. the qifnllty must lie good to iiiiikc tne most out Vif it. as the consumer demands good butter In winter, the siinie as In sum-. int'J'.iS.ud the price Is largely determ ined, bthe quality all seasons. , Cutters and Purports. Tlfdusands of barns throughout the c6"itifffy"ure without gutters, nud the rtiln" -rruW-the roof washes down uon ma nin e heaps, rob bing the latter of more than half their richness. Cut ters from a solid stick of timber are best, but these ore expensive. The V trough Is apt to lerli after a little. To prevent this, coat the Inside SKciihK gutter, with concrete, nfaoVby mixing sharp sand and the best ('rnleut, as shown in the diagram, os .jnLxture of sand nud tar can bo usedy Instead of the wooden supports cut from a piece of board, thnt are con stantly splitting, use nu Iron strap bent by a blacksmith Into the shape suggest ed, and screwed to the side of the bhrh?-' Such supports will, of them selves, keep the V gutters from open ing nt the Joint, even if not coated In side. ' k- i n' Work of the Codllna Moth. The Injury and loss occasioned by the codHng moth has been very keenly felt lu almost all fruit-growing regions, and many of the fine crops raised the past y'enr will show tlie appearance of the worm unless spraying was re-sorted to In early spring. The femnle begins to lay eggs In the calyx of the blossom 0, use- a. AND NUMBEKING UOUNTKY ltOATM. about two. weeks after the blossom first sppeurs. From the egg hatches a caterpillar widen pierces the skin of the fruit and eats Its way toward the center. It feeds upon the pulp around the core until It finishes its caterpillar growth, at which time it Is about three quarters of nn Inch In length. Then It usually leaves the apple to find n crev-. ice in the bnrk, where it spins a silken cocoon and enters the pupa stage. Two weeks later It emerges ns a moth like the one that laid, the original egg. The experience of horticulturists has been A MOST DKSTKUCTIVK APPLK 1NSKCT. that the Injury caused by this Insert can only be averted by careful spray lug. Farm and Home. Poultry Pointers, Preserve the fallen leaves for the scratch pen In winter. Get the poultry accustomed to roost ing under shelter before cold weather sets In. A good thing for the chickens Is to char a lot of corn occasionally and let them pick at it. Don't fall to have gravel and road dust in goodly quantities put away for use about poultry quarters during win ter. It is claimed by many that a hen will lay more and better eggs during an en tire year If she is allowed to raise oue lot of chicks. Eggs upon which a fowl Is sKUng are not all of the same temperature; those upon the outside are cooler than those on the Inside. Eradicate the chicken lice by clean ing out and burning out old nests, and whitewashing frequently. . Spray the roosts and Inside of the poultry bouse freely with coal oil and carbolic acid. If charcoal and sulphur are burned In a poultry house we will guarantee that the house will be rid of lice. Sprin-. kle the sulphur on the charcoal and shut the bouse np tight Nothing can live In the fumes. The Apiary. The dark brown color of combs is caused by the bees using bits of the old wax. When the sections are too near the brood combs, the bees seal it partly with old black wax. The use of thick top bars prevents this, it is said. Each frame of comb in a be hive should occupy about one and a half inches of space, and In spacing the frames It should be done with exact ness, so that the frames will be one and a half Inches from center to cealer.