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About Corvallis gazette. (Corvallis, Benton County, Or.) 1900-1909 | View Entire Issue (July 2, 1901)
SEMI-WEEKLY, VNIOR Estab. .InlT. 1897. .(Consolidated Feb., 1899. CORVAIililS, BENTON COUNTY, OBEGON, TUESDAY, JULY 2, 1901. VOL. II. NO. 10. OAZKTTK Bstab. Bee.. 1882. jpOORHOUSETOpALACE 1 BY MARY J. HOLMES 1 CHAPTEB XII.-(Contlnued.) Here Jenny's remarks were interrupt ed by the loud rattling of wheels, and the halloo of many voices. Going to the door, she and Mary saw coming down the road at a furious rate the old hay cart, laden with youug people from Chic opee, who had been berrying In Stur briilge and were now returning home in high glee. -The horses were fantastically trimmed with ferns and evergreens, while several of the girls were ornamented in the same way. Conspicuous among the noisy group was Ella Campbell. Henry Lincoln's broad-brimmed hat was rest ing on her long curls, while her white sun-bonnet was tied under Henry's chin. The moment Jenny appeared the whole party set np a shout so deafening that the Widow Perkins came out in a trice to see "if the Old Harry was to pay, or what." No sooner did Henry Lincoln get sight of Mary than springing to his feet, and swinging his arm around his head, he screamed out: "Three cheers for the schoolma'am and her handsome lover, Billy! Hurrah?' j ' "Wasn't that smart?" said Jenny, when at last the hay cart disapeared from view, an 1 the noise and dust had somewhat subsided. Then as she saw the tears in Mary's eyes she added, "Oh, I wouldn't care if they did tease me about Billy Bender. I'd as lief be teased about him as not." "It isnt that," said Mary, smiling in spite of herself, at Jenny's frankness. "It isn't that. I didn't like to hear Ella sing with your brother, when she must have known he meant to annoy me." "That certainly was wrong," retained Jenny, "but Ella isn't so much to blame as Henry, who seems to have acquired a great influence over her during the few weeks he has been at home. You know she is easily flattered, and I dare say Henry ha's fully gratified her vanity in that respect, for he says she Is the only decent looking girl in Chicopeel But see, there ' comes Mrs. Mason; I guess she wonders what is keening you so long." The moment Mrs. Mason entered the school room, Jenny commenced talking about Mount Holyoke, her tongue run ning so fast that it entirely prevented anyone else from speaking until she stop ped, for a moment to take breath. Then Mrs. Mason very -quietly remarked that if Mary' wished to go to Mount Holyoke she could do so, Mary looked np inquir ingly,; wondering what mine had opened so suddenly at her feet; but she received no explanation until Jenny had bidden her. good-by and gone. Then she learn ed that Mrs. Mason had just received one hundred dollars from a man in Boston, who had years before owed it to her hus band, and was unable to pay it sooner. "And now," said Mrs. Mason, "there is no reason why yon should not go to Mount Holyoke, if you wish to.". - ' ' "Oh, what a forlorn-looking placer' exclaimed Rose Lincoln, as from the win dows of the crowded vehicle in which they had come from the cars she first ob tained a view of the not very handsome village of South Hadley. Rose was in the worst of humors, for by some mischance Mary was on the same seat with herself, and consequently she was very much distressed and crowd ed. She, however, felt a little afraid of Aunt Martha, who she saw was inclined to favor the object of her wrath, so she restrained her fault-finding spirit until she arrived at South Hadley, where ev erything came in for a share of her dis pleasure. "That the seminary!" said she con temptuously, as they, drew up before the building. "Why, it isn't half as large or handsome as I supposed. Oh, horror! I know I shan't stay here long." The furniture of the parlor was also very offensive to the youug lady, and when Miss Lyon came in to meet them she, too, was secretly styled "a prim, fussy, slippery-tongued old maid." Jenny, however, who always saw the bright side of everything, was completely charmed with the sweet smile and placid face. After some conversation between Miss Lyon and Aunt Martha It' was decided that Rose and Jenny should room togeth er, as a matter of coarse, and that Mary should room with Ida. Rose had fully intended to room with Ida herself, and this decision made her very angry; but there was no help for it, and she was obliged to submit. And; now in a few days life at Mount Holyoke commenced in earnest. Although perfectly healthy, Mary looked rather delicate, and it was tor this reason, per haps, that the sweeping and dusting of several rooms were assigned to her, as her portion of the labor. Ida and Rose fared .; much worse, and were greatly shocked when told that they both belong ed to the wash circle! "I declare," . said Rose, "it's too bad. I'll walk home before I'll do it;" and she glanced at her white hands, to make sure they were not already discolored by the dreadful soapsuds! Jenny "was delighted with her allot ment, which was dish-washing. "I'm glad I took a lesson at the poor- house: years ago," said she one day to Rose, who snappishly replied; "I'd shut np about the poorhouse, or they'll think you the pauper instead of Madam Howard." ' ..'.. "Pauper? Who's a : pauper?" asked Lucy Downs, eager to hear so desirable . a piece-of news. Ida Selden's large black eyes rested reprovingly upon Rose, who nodded to ward Mary, and forthwith Miss Downs departed with the information, which was not long in reaching Mary's ears. "Why, Mary, what's the matter?" ask ed Ida, when, .toward the close of -the day, she found her companion weeping in her room.'-' Without lifting her head Mary replied, "It's foolish In me to cry, I know, but why need I always be re proached with having been a pauper? couldn't help it I promised mother would take care of little Allie as long as she lived, and if she went to the poor- house I had to go too. ''And who was little Allie?" asked Ida, taking Mary's hot hands between her own. - In a few words Mary related her his tory, omitting her acquaintance with George Moreland, and commencing at the night when her mother died. Ida was warm-hearted and affectionate, and cared but little whether one were rich or poor if she liked them. From the first she had been interested in Mary, and now wind ing her arms about her neck, and kissing away her tears, she promised to love her, and to be to her as true and faithful a friend as Jenny. This promise, which was never broken, was of great benefit to Mary, drawing to her side many of the best girls in school, who. soon learned to love her for herself, and not because the wealthy Miss Selden seemed so fond of her. Soon after Mary went to Mount Hol yoke she had received a letter from Billy, in which he expressed his pleasure that she was at school, but added that the fact of her being there Interfered great ly with his plan of educating her him self. "Mother's ill health," said he, "pre vented me from doing anything until now, and just as I am In a fair way to accom plish my object someone else has stepped in before me. But it is all right, and as you do not seem to need my services at present I shall next week leave Mr. Sel den's employment, and go Into Mr. Wor thington's law office as clerk, hoping that when the prdper time arrives I shall not be defeated in another plan which was formed in boyhood, and which has become the gnat object of my life." Mary . felt perplexed and troubled. Billy's letters of late had been more like those of a lover than a brother, and she could not' help guessing the nature of "the plan formed In boyhood." She knew she should never love him except with a sister's love, and though she could not tell him so her next letter lacked the tone of affection with which she was accus tomed to write, and was on the whole a rather formal affair. . Billy, who readily perceived the change, attributed it to the right cause, and from that time his let ters became far less cheerful than usual. Mary usually cried over them, wishing more than once that Billy would trans fer his affection from herself to Jenny, and it was for this reason, perhaps, that without stopping to consider the propri ety of the matter, she first asked Jenny to write to him, and then encouraged her in answering his notes, which became gradually longer and longer, until at last his letters were addressed to Jenny, while the notes they contained were directed to Mary! CHAPTER XIII. Rapidly the days passed on at Mount Holyoke. Autumn faded into winter, whose icy breath floated for a time over the mountain tops, and then melted away at the approach of spring, which, with its swelling buds and early flowers, gave way in its turn to the long bright days of summer. And now only a few weeks re mained ere the annual examination at which Ida was to be graduated. . - Neither Rose nor Jenny were to return the next year, and nothing but Mr. Lin coln's firmness and-good sense had pre vented their being sent for when their mother first heard that they had failed to enter the middle class. Mrs. Lincoln's mortification was undoubtedly greatly in creased from the fact that the despised Mary had entered in advance of her daughters. "Things are coming to a pret ty pass," said she. "Yes, a pretty pas's; but I might have known better than 'to send my children to such a school." She insisted upon sending for Rose and Jenny, but Mr. Lincoln promptly' re plied that they should not come home. Still, as Rose seemed discontented, com plaining that so much exercise made her side, and shoulder ache, and as Jenny did not wish to remain another year un less Mary did, he consented that they should leave school at the close , of the term, on condition that they went some where else. ; ': "I shall never make anything of Hen ry," said he,' "but my daughters shall receive every advantage, and perhaps one or the other of them will comfort my old age." - He had spoken ' truly with regard to Henry, who was studying, or pretending to stndy, law in the same office with Billy Bender. But his father heard no favor able accounts of him, and from time to time large bills were presented. So it is no wonder the disappointed ' father sighed, and turned to bis daughters for the comfort his only son refused to give, For the examination at Mount Erolyoke great preparations were being r ade. Rose, knowing she was not. to r turn seemed to think all further effort Vd her part unnecessary; and numerous were the reprimands, to say nothing of the black marks which she received. Jenny, on the contrary, said she wished to retrieve her reputation for laziness, and leave behind a good impression. ' So, never before in her whole life had she behaved so well, or studied as hard as she did during the last few weeks of her stay at Mount Hol yoke. ; Ida, who was expecting her fath er, aunt and cousin to be present at the anniversary, was so- engrossed with her studies that she did not observe how sad and low-spirited Mary seemed. She had tasted of knowledge and now thirst ed for more; but it could not be; the funds were exhausted, and she must leave the school, never perhaps to return again. "How much I shall miss my music, and how much I shall miss you," she said one day to Ida, who was giving her a lesson. "It's too bad you haven't a piano," re turned Ida, "you are so fond of it, and improve so fast!" Then after a moment, she added, "I have a plan to propose, and may as well do it now as at any time. Next winter yon must spend with me in Boston. Aunt Martha and I arranged it the last time I was at home, and we even' selected your room, which is next to mine, and opposite to Aunt Martha's. Now, what does your ladyship say to it?" "She says she can't go," answered Mary. "Can't go!" repeated Ida. "Why not? Jenny will be in the city, and you are always happy where she is; besides, you will have rare chance Tor taking musle lessons of our best teachers; and then. too, yon will be in the same house with George, and that, alone is worth going to Boston for, I think." Ida little suspected that her last argu ment was the strongest' objection- to Mary s going, for, much as she wished to meet George again, she felt that she would not on any account go to his home. lest he should think she came on pur pose to see him. There were other reasons,- too, why she did not wish to go. Henry and Rose Lincoln would both be in the city, and she knew that neither of them would scruple to do or say any thing which they thought would annoy her. Mrs. Mason, too, missed her, and longed to have her at home; so she resist ed all Ida's entreaties, and the next let ter which went to Aunt Martha carried her -refusal. - - ..... .--.. In a day or two Mary received two let ters, one from Billy and one from Mrs. Mason, the latter of which contained money for the payment of her bills; but, on offering it to the principal, how was she surprised to learn that her bills had not only been regularly paid and receipt ed, but that ample funds were provided for the defraying of her expenses during the coming year. A faint sickness stole over Mary, for she instantly thought of Billy Bender, and the obligation she would now be nnder to him forever. Then it occurred to her how impossible it was that he should have earned so much in so short a time; and as soon as she could trust her voice to speak, she asked who it was that had thus befriended her. . . The preceptress was not at liberty to tell, and with a secret suspicion of Aunt Martha, Mary returned to her room to read the other letter, which was still un opened. Her head grew dizzy, and her spirits faint, as she read the passionate outpouring of a heart which had cherish ed her -image for years, and which. though fearful of rejection, would still tell her how much she was beloved. "It is no sudden fancy," Baid he. "Once, Mary, I believed my affection for you returned, but now you are changed. Your letters are brief and cold, and when I look around for the cause I am led, to fear that I was deceived .in thinking you ever loved me. ';, If I am mistaken, tell me so; but if I am not, if you can never be my wife, I will school myself to think of you as a brother would think of an only and darling sister. For several days Mary had not been well, and the excitement produced by Billy's letter tended to increase her ill ness. During the hours in which she was alone that day she. had ample time for reflection, and before night she wrote a letter to Billy, in which she told him how impossible it was for her to be the wife of one whom she had always loved as an own-and,dear,brother,Thi8Jett,cU8edV Mary so much effort, and so many bittei tears, that for several days she continued worse, and. at last gave up all hope of be ing present at the examination. Oh, it's too bad!" said Ida, "for 1 do want you to see Cousin George,' and 1 know he'll be disappointed, too, for I. never saw anything like the interest he takes in you." . A few days afterward, as Mary was lying thinking of Billy, and wondering if she had done right in writing to him as she did, Jenny came rushing in, wild with delight. . Her father was downstairs, together with Ida's father. George and Aunt Mar tha. "Most the first thingl did," said she, "was to inquire after Billy Bender! I guess Aunt Martha was shocked, for she looked so queer. George laughed, and Mr. Seidell said he was doing well, and was one of the finest young men in Boston." - During the whole of George's stay at Mount Holyoke Rose managed to keep him at her side, entertaining him occa sionally with unkind remarks concerning Mary, .who, she said, was undoubtedly feigning her sickness so as not to appear in her classes where she knew she could do herself no credit; "but," said she, as Boon as the examination is over she'll get well fast enough and bother us with her company at Chicopee." ': .-.-.. : .In this Rose was mistaken, for when the exercises closed Mary was still too ill to ride,- and it was decided that she should remain a few days until Mrs. Ma son could come for her. With many tears Ida and Jenny bade their young friend good-by, but Rose, when asked to go np and see her, turned away disdainfully, amusing herself during their absence by talking and laughing with George More land. . . ' The room In which Mary lay command ed a view of the yard and gateway; and after Aunt Martha, Ida and Jenny had left, she arose, and stealing to the win- dow, looked out upon the company as they departed. She could readily divine which was George Moreland, for Rose Lincoln's shawl and satchel were thrown over his arm, while Rose herself walked close to his elbow, apparently engrossing his whole attention. .- Once he turned around, but fearful of being observed, Mary drew back behind the window cur tain, and thus lost a view of his face. (To be continued.) Zulus of the Railroads. "Do you know what a Zulu is?" said an old railroad man. The traveling man who was waiting for his train smiled 'In a way that was meant to indicate he knew all the species of Zulus that ever existed," and told the railroad man about the Africans, called Zulus, who maintained that continent's reputation for fighting before the Boers stepped in. t-,: .,-;,'..-:., .. - Little was doing In the; railroad man's line Just then, so he listened. "Well, they may be Zulus all right enough," he remarked, "but they are not the sort of Zulus that travel 'on railroads. - There Is the kind that runs Into these yards," and he pointed down the track, where a box car stood.-1 A stone pipe protruded through hole in the door. The pipe was at an angle of about 35 degrees. A cloud of smoke was .coming from it. Four blooded horses and a man were the oc cupants of that. - The man was the Zulu. Taking care of valuable stock en route from one 'market to another was his business. He was a type of a class that railroad men on every line haev named the Zulus. They fit up the center of the cars for a sort of living room, and there in the1 midst of their animals live as happily as the road's president who passes them In his pri vate car. Chicago Inter Ocean. . Caution Is often tossed to the winds, but never brought back by them. -, fOLKS ' Conntlnjr Out Rhymes. There has been much conjecture as to the origin of children's "counting-out" rhymes. Many persons believe them to be corruptions of what was once good English, that has become twist ed through much repetition by chil dren who repeat what ' they hear, literally. ;. This would seem the best' solution of the matter, thoueh ''SOW.DOS'TPKK," tnere are theorists who believe that this doggerel had Its start in the folk-songs of a foreign peo ple, who brought them to this country, where they, became somewhat Ameri canized by phonetic repetition." - :.. Some of these rhymes present a curi ous mixture of English and otherwise unheard-of words. - The following are excellent examples of the latter class: Onery. oery, ickery, ann . Fillison, follison, Nicholas John, . Queevy, Quavy, English navy, . Stinklum, Stanklum Buck. : " . Illery, Nillery, Mexican navy, Hirabo, Crackaho, tenoif o' Iwry t--Whisky drinker,' American time, . : Humbledy, bumbledy, ninety-nine. - Others -contain na English words at all, as: .." " . . Eni menl, mini, mo, : Crack a feni, ni, fo, Ommanuga, poppatuga, Rick, hick, hando. 5 Li' A curious hodge-podge, evidently of Scotch origin from Its allusion to "Go- wan Gorse," is as follows: - - Out in the manor of Gowan Gorse . Up jumped the winding horse, He can trip and he can trot .: "" And he can play in the mustard pot. Aye oh, who's below? - --v Mammy, daddy, dirty Joe." . v A winding horse Is a new manner of animal, but his accomplishments seem to be many.. Many other rhymes have no foreign words at all, but are wholly English. Perhaps they are not suffi ciently hackneyed or of great enough antiquity to be corrupted, or Is it pos sible that American children are be coming a more distinctly speaking class? Examples of these are: One, two three, four, Mary at the cupboard door,- ' Eating pie off a plate, ' s , Five, six, seven, eight. . And again: .' . " ' One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, ' All good children go to heaven. Chicago Record-Herald. .' " Cat that Shed Hot Tears. "Do animals ever shed tears?" is question frequently asked, but never satisfactorily answered. Henry-Har- land tells of a cow that wept freely when separated from her calf. - In one of the large buildings of Ihe city the ! other day many people were witnesses 1 .. . r t. s .... mi... i . , ., ni. wwpuig in licu. . A.kiv wee uiue nuu strayed into the building and there had encountered a fierce, barking dog of the fox terrier variety. ' She had run to es cape him Into a room in which was the roar of much machinery, bad been shouted at, had had a piece of coal thrown at her, bad been caught by the nape of her neck and flung to a giant, had been taken up In aa elevator and had had the tip of her tail pinched by Lsome laughing men. When she finally reached her destina tion, a quiet spot at the top of the tall building, she was a palpitating mass of fur . more dead than alive, with no fight left in her and with tears streaming from her eyes. . Indeed, a more lachry mose sight was never seen. It took a good fifteen minutes of pet ting and cajolery to Induce her to stop crying, too, and to lift her head. But finally, like the cow in the story, she became consoled. Then she washed her tace andorgdt her troubles in frivolous pursuit of a piece or paper tied to a string. - A Bo's Composition. Water Is found everywhere, especial ly when it rains, as it did the other day, when .our -cellar was half. full. Jane had to wear her father's, rubber boots to get the onions for dinner. Onions make your eyes water, . and. so . does horseradish,- when you eat too much. There Is a good many kinds of water in the world rain-water,- soda-water. holy-water and brine. .Water is used for a good many things. Sailors use It to go to sea on. If there wasn't any ocean the ships couldn't float and they would have to stay ashore. .. Water Is a good thing to fire at boys with a squirt and to catch fish in. My father caught a big one the other day, and when he "eni, mbni, mint, mo" hauled It up It was an eel! Nobady could be saved from drowning If there wasn't any water to pull them out of. water is orst-rate to put fires out with. love to go' to fires and see the men work at the engines. This is all I can think of about water except the flood. Industrial School Gem. . A Fellow's Mother. A fellow's mother.1" said Fred the wise. With his rosy cheeks and his merry bine eyes. "Knows what to do if a fellow gets hurt By a thump, or a bruise, or a fall in the dirt. : 'A fellow's mother has bags and strings. Hooks and buttons, and lots of things; ."no matter how busy she is. she'll stoD To see how well you can spin your top. - 'She does not rnrp imf- mnih. 1 m,in If a fellow's face is not quite clean: And ir your trousers are torn at the knee, She can put in a patch that you'd never "A fellow's mother is never mad, And only sorry if you're bad: And 1 11 tell you this: if you're only true, She'll always forgive you, whate'er you dO. -.' - ,.:'.', '.'-. : . - I'm sure of this," said Fred the wise. With a manly look in his laughing eyes; 'Til mind my mother every day; A fellow's a baby that won't obey." Apples of Gold. - Practical Demonstration. Teacher Tommy, what are you doing to that litle boy? . Tommy Nothing. He wanted to know, if you. take three from five how many will remain, and I took three ol his apples to show him, and now he wants them back. V; " Teacher Well, why don't you give them back to him? Tommy 'Cause then he would forgel how many are left. - Ttolna; Sums on the Gigrand. Little 6-year-old Harry, while read Ing a chapter of Genesis, paused and asked his . mother if people In those days used to do sums on the ground. He had been reading the passage which says: "And the sons of men multiplied upon the face of the earth." . . " 'An eleventh Com muniment. Teacher How many commandments are there? Small Boy 'Leven. - Teacher- Eleven! What Is the elev enth? - w Small Boy Keep off the grass. Description of an Elephant. "Oh, mamma!" exclaimed little Edith on her return , from the show, "I saw an elephant and he walks backwards and eats with his tall! t - Stone Forest. A remarkable forest of petrified trees called Chalcedony Park can be reach ed hi a few hours from Holbrook, Ariz. The area of the park Is estimated at hundreds of square miles, and it con tains thousands of tons of agatized wood. It Is like a vast lumber camp, where the lumbermen have thrown huge logs at random from their sleds, leaving them to become rain-soaked and moss-grown. Some of the trunks are 150 feet long, and they break up in sections, as if sawed through at inter vals. " ' The bark Is of a dark red color, as a rule, but the chips and interior exhibit kaleidoscopic colors. Amethysts, red and yellow jasper, chalcelony of every tint, topajs, onyx, carnelian and other stones abound. The logs, in fact, are a blend of these stones. One of them, 100 feet long and three to five feet in diameter, spans a narrow canyon, and is called the Agate Bridge. It is chief ly composed of jaspers and agates. . As to the origin of the petrifications, it is supposed that in past times the trees were overwhelmed with volcanic ashes and hot silicious waters from geysers. - The timber Is analogous to pine or cedar, and as It decayed the sill ca dyed with various salts of iron and manganese in solution took its place, Two New Bridges for Venice. :: It Is proposed to erect two great bridges In Venice-Hne to connect the Island of San Michele, which is the sole cemetery of Venice, with the city on the north, and one to connect the Island of the Guidecca with the city on the south. The former is an easy affair, as the water, though a quarter of a mile broad. Is shallow. The other Is a serious and difficult matter, as the Guidecca canal is really an arm of the sea, and the distance at its narrowest part is over an eighth of a mile. The Guidecca canal is also the highway for all the ships of any size, as it is by it alone they can reach the docks, which are at the' railway -station. But the Guidecca Island Is becoming of import ance as the manufacturing quarter of the city. . One of the largest flour mills in Europe Is there. It belongs to Sig- nor Stucchl, and he has promised to subscribe toward the expense of the bridge 400,000 francs, equal to about 16,000. Other manufacturers on the Island will probably also offer liberal donations should the work , be deter mined upon. Edinburgh Scotsman. Thirteen at Table.; Mrs.. B. Oh, Charles, we can never sit down with thirteen at table. . Mr. B. Pshaw! I hope you're not so superstitious as that . ,,- ; Mrs.. B. No, of course not; but we have only twelve dinner plates. Phila delphia Bulletin. ? ; A Large Shingle Mill. ' Manchester, N. H., Is to have what it Is claimed will be the largest shingle mill building ever erected. It Is nearly completed and Is 770 feet long, with two wings of 830 feet, all of an aver- ago width of 100 feet, and five istorles in height, Including basement. ' s Out of the frying-pan of courtship a man steps Into the fire of matrimony, Water Before Feeding;. We have often seen the advice In some of the agricultural columns to feed the horse before watering him, but we never had good success in con vincing one when he came in from a drive or a day's work that he should wait for a drink nntll after he had eaten. We never tried very hard be cause we thought he knew better than the writers of such paragraphs whether ne was more thirsty than hungry or not, and we know that while a glass of water tasted good before a meal we did not care for It after we were through eating unless the food was too salt. Now we have a report of an English experiment in which, one horse was given four quarts of oats, and then al lowed to drink. Soon after he was killed, and scarcely one quart of the oats was found floating In the water In the stomach, while three quarts had been washed into the Intestines, entire ly undigested. Another horse was wa tered before giving him the oats, and killed after the same lapse of time. All the oats were found in the stomach, smd the work of digestion was already setting In. . This may in part account for the fact we have long known, and sometimes alluded to, that the grain for a working or fattening animal seems to do much more good when the larger part of it Is given at the night feeding. When we fed grain to our milch cows in summer we gave it only at night, and we thought It better, because they digested It better while at rest; but it may have been so for no other reason than that we watered' before feeding at night and after feeding In the morn ing. When the hay or cut corn fodder was' wet a little and the ground grain mixed with It, as In winter, probably It made less difference. American Cul tivator. Lupr Jaw. The malady .commonly known as lumpy jaw is caused by a fungous germ, writes a stockman. It , makes its growth on weeds and grass of low land, taking the form of mildew, which grows up in spores filled with number less seeds. These are taken Into the animal's mouth with grass and food and there commence their deadly work. Animals ? are most readily infected with these germs when ; cutting their teeth, the fungi getting into the in flamed tissue and thence into the blood. They start an abscess, not necessarily in the Jaw, but generally there. : Pus forms and discharges, drops on the grass or food eaten by others of the herd and, being full of germs, spreads the disease from one to another. After the pasture has been affected with these germs It should be plowed and cropped for two or three years. These germs can be killed In the animal's body by a careful treatment of 1 drams of Iodide of potash for a 1,000 pound animal, once a day for four days, then twice a day for four days and then once a day for four days. Rest one week, and then repeat treat ment. Keep the animal in the barn all the time, and give iodide of potash In the drinking water. The above rem edy will exterminate the disease, but if the jawbone has become honey combed and the teeth loose In the jaw It will not take away the lump. All cattle having the disease should be kept apart from the rest of the herd, and the milk" from, such cows should not be used. Hnndj Husking Horse. In talking about a husking horse. why not make one right? Take the wheels off the corn plow and have an axle of gas pipe the length desired; then take two pieces 10 feet long, 1x3, for sides, made like" a wheelbarrow. men put upngnts 4 reet nigh in a slant over the wheels. You can husk on one end and pile the fodder on the A BUSKINS BOBSK. ' other end.1 use it for carting fodder from one shock to the other. I have hauled five shocks at once on it. - It is very handy in winter when feeding when the ground is frozen to wheel fodder or straw on. G. D. Work, In Ohio Parmer. ' Coat of Meat an .1 Butter-, The same feed which is required for producing one pound of butter will make two pounds of gain, on the steer. The Minnesota Experiment Station found that 100 pounds of grain mixture with an equal amount of hay and roots fed to': four steers . produced 24.19 pounds of gain, and an equal amount of same food fed to four cows pro duced 12.04 pounds of butter. The type is not of so much significance with che steer as with the dairy cow, for the reason that a steer not of good type may be a large feeder and a good di gester and convert all the food taken over his own maintenance Into gain. while a cow not of the dairy type has the - alternative ;of converting food either Into milk or gain, and she may choose the latter , when the owne, wants on'y the former. - Dos'l Hip th Wlan,' The clipping of wings is, to say the least, a cruel practice and often results in the loss or injury of our most valu able fowls is the sensible conclusion of a poultry writer In Home and Farm. The temptation to go to the highest portion of the roost is too strongly In bred In the fowls to resist and they will Invariably manage to get to tbe-top. Then, In their baste to get down they fall, head over heels, having no means ' of protection. I have seen fowls at tempt to fly from a perch fully ten feet from the ground, invariably with the same results. The fence can always be built high enough to keep them In the yard and, aside from all Injury the clipping does, their beauty Is so marred that one- should refrain from such unnecessary . mutilation. A fence four feet high will keep the Leghorns at home. The-ost of wire is so moderate that every one may easily provide a good fence for the yards without resorting to any cut ting of wings. . The Pea Louse. The new pest, the destructive pea aphis, has in the last two years Inflict ed enormous losses in various regions where peas are grown for-cauner-ies, as Maryland, Delaware, New Jer sev. New York and TR PA 1-OUSS. OonoectJcnt. Micn. lgan and Wisconsin also have suffered from, it. Some of the scientists claim that it Is naturally more an enemy of clover than of peas. An encouraging feature noted in Canada is that wher ever the aphis occurred it was attacked by parasitic enemies, the most vigorous of these being the small orange larvae of a species of diplosis minute mag gots which suck the juice out of the body of the aphis. The "brush and cul tivator" method of fighting the pea louse Is accepted as the most generally effective. For this it is necessary that the peas be planted in rows, and when the insects are noticed the vines are brushed backward and forward with a good pine switch in front of a cultiva tor drawn by a single horse. In this manner the plant lice are covered up as soon as they fall to the ground, and a large proportion of them are destroy ed. Peas sown late or on poor ground sustain most damage. The pea aphis is shown In the sketch many times en larged. - Molasses from Melons. D. Hanz, a farmer of Georgia, has discovered a new source of molasses In the Georgia melon patch. According to his experiments and calculations. 270 melons will make thirty gallons of syrup worth $15. The melons for mar ket would be worth $3 or $8. This is important, if true, and It may be true. iue vaiue oi melon moiasses must u ex pend on its quality. It may be practi cally worthless. If the sweet of the melon can be granulated to produce sugar, melon sugar may be worth at tention, but the sweet of melon juice Is so diluted that it is not likely to com pete with the sugar beet. The sources of sugar are many. In the North the sugar maple Is an unfailing source, al though greately neglected. If the waste lands on every farm were planted with sugar maples, or even seeded, and kept free from cattle, in due time the owner would have good timber trees and a " never-failing source of. revenue in maple sugar. The price of that article is high enough to warrant farmers in setting maple groves. Twentieth Cen tury Farmer. , The Weeder. A writer In the Practical Farmer says that one of the best farmers In Minnesota recently declared at his home institute that the weeder had been worth $1,000 to him during the last ten years. It had enabled him to take bet ter care of his-crops, at less expense for labor. He told how he and the hired man would run the cultivators in corn and potatoes after a rain had packed the ground, and after three or four hours one of the boys would follow after with a weeder and his pony, and at night it made the father al most ashamed the boy had done so much more good than be had. All who have used weeders have only good to say of them. They will do the best work on mellow, clean land. Rubbish on the surface and stones would Inter fere with their use. Do not be In a hurry to get Into the field when it is wet with dew or rain. Wait until the ground is dry, and then you can cul tivate and hoe fifteen or twenty acres per day. All weeds . can be kept In check by beginning early and going over the ground every four or five days. A Terfect Pedlzree. -If we were to buy an animal for breeding purposes we should insist upon a perfect pedigree or should re-' fuse to pay any fancy price. . But what constitutes a perfect pedigree? It is not a long line of descent from some fa mous animal, nor yet one In which we can trace several crosses of his blood. but we think it is one in which we can find no ancestor of a grade lower than what we are seeking to establish or perpetuate. Each and every one should be as good or better than its predeces sor,, and the. stock should show indica tions of improving In each generation. With such a pedigree the increase would never go back If the proper care was' given, but would produce better results all of the time. New England Farmer. - a " The yprjle Crop. That the apple crop Is actually worth more In cash annually than the wheat crop is a fact" The entire apple crop for 1900 was 215,000,000 barrels. These, at $2 per barrel, would mean $430, 000,000. : The wheat crop does not a ver- t ,!,, n -.,- CQnnwi AAA The meaning of this Is that we have got the world's market for our fruit and are exporting nearly 4,000,000 bar rels per year. These bring in the Euro pean markets nearer $4' a barrel than $2. - And still the export trade Is In creasing every year. American fruit has a known worth from St Petersburg to Liverpool, . ..-