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, . ..-