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About Corvallis gazette. (Corvallis, Benton County, Or.) 1900-1909 | View Entire Issue (July 30, 1901)
UNION Kstab. .Tuly, 1S7.
OAZETTK Batab. Deo.. 1863.
Consolidated Feb., 1899.
CORVALLIS, BENTON COUNTY, OBEGON, TUESDAY, JULY 30, 1901.
VOL. II. NO. 14.
BY MARY J.
CHAPTER XIX. I
The morning train bound for Albany
stood in the depot, waiting the signal to
start, and just before the final "all
aboard" was sounded a handsome equip
age drove slowly up, and from it alight
ed Mr. Lincoln, bearing in his arms his
daughter, whose head rested wearily up
on hU shoulder. . Accompanying him
were his wife, Jenny and a gray-graired
man, the family physician. Together
they entered the rear car, and instantly
there was a hasty turning of heads, a
shaking of curls and low whispers; as
each noticed and commented upon the un
earthly beauty of Rose, who in her fath
er's arms lay as if wholly exhausted with
the effort she had made.'
The sight of her, so young, so fair and
apparently so low, hushed all selfish feel
ings, and a gay bridal party who had
taken possession of the ladies' saloon im
mediately came forward, offering it to
Mr. Lincoln, who readily accepted it, and
laying Rose upon the long settee, he made
her as comfortable as possible with the
numerous pillows and cushions he had
brought with him. As the creaking en
gine moved slowly out of Boston Rose
asked that the window might be raised,
and, leaning ir on her elbow, she looked
out upon her native city, which she was
Toward hightfallof the next day they
reached GIenwood' and Rose, more, fa
tigued than she was willing to acknowl
edge, now that she was so determined to
get well, was. lifted from the carriage
and carried into the house. . Mrs. How
land hastened forward to receive her,
and for once Rose forgot to notice wheth
er the cut of her eap was of this year's
fashion or last.
-i am weary, she said. "Iav me
where l ean rest." And with the grand
mother leading the way, the father car
ried. Jiis child to the chamber prepared
for her with so much care.
"t' worse than I thought 'twas," said
Mrs. Rowland, returning to the parlor
below, where - her daughter had thrown
herself with a sigh upon the chintz-cover
ed lounge. "It's a deal worse than I
thought 'twas. Hasn't she catched cold,
or been exposed some way?"
"Not in the least,", returned Mrs. Lin-
coin, twirling the golden stopper of h"er
smelling bottle. "The foundation of her
sickness was laid at Mount Holyoke. and
the whole faculty ought to be indicted for
manslaughter. - ' - '
- Jenny's clear, truthful eyes turned to-
" "u " unruly.
mnrt iwintlmiajl. "Sha ...
one untir"he went there, and I consider
it my duty tao warn all parents against
-sending their daughters to a place where
n:., ... 1 1 .. .... 1
........u.. ...t un.., uiaiuing uur uiijtuiug cists
is aueuueu iu except religion ana nouse-
-. Tnnni. hnJ ...... !.. . 1 . 1. 1 1
tuuj uau uui ijuue gut- over ner cniiu
tsh habit of occasionally setting her moth
er right on some points, and she could
not forbear saying that Dr. Kleber
thought Rose had injured herself by at
tending Mrs. Russell's party.
J "Dr. '-Kleber doesn't know any more
about it than I do," returned her mother.
-He's always minding other folks' busi
ness, ana so are you. I guess you'd bet
ter -go upstairs at once, and see if Hose
-doesn t want something."
Jenny obeyed, and as she entered her
..sister's chamber, Rose lifted her head
iauKMKiiy irom ner pillow, and pointing to
'a window,, which had been opened that
She might 'breathe more - freely, said.
:"Just listen; don't yon hear that horrid
' jcroakjng?" .
Jenny : laughed aloud, for she knew
Rose had heard "that horrid croaking"
more than a hundred times in Chicopee,
".but in Glen wood everything must neces-
sarlly assume a goblin form and sound.
Seating herself UDon the foot of the bed.
she said: "Why, that's the frogs. I love
to-hear' them dearly. It makes me feel
both sad and happy, just as the crickets
do that sing nnder the hearth in our old
. home at Chicopee." - '
.', Jenny's whole heart was in the country
and she could not so well ' sympathize
with her nervous, sensitive sister, who
shrank from country sights and country
sounds. Accidentally spying some tall lo
cust . branches swinging in the evening
' breeze before the east, window, she again
- spoke to Jenny, telling her to look and
see if the tree leaned against the house,
"for if it does," said she, "and creaks, t
shan't sleep a wink to-night." . .,
' After assuring her that the tree was all
right, Jenny added: "I love to hear the
wind howl through these old trees, and
" were it not for you, I should wish it
might blow bo that I could lay awake and
- hear it" ;..- :. ,
' When It grew darker and the stars be
gan to come out, Jenny was told "to close
. "Now, Rose," said she. "yon are mak-
, ing half of this, far you know as well as
.. i .that grandma s House hasn t got any
shutters." ' - : - -.- ' -
"Oh! mercy, no more it hasn't. ' What
Bhall I do?" said Rose, half crying with
,4 I II III . I II H T nuMa timet. in ..... la
worse than nothing, and everybody'll be
looking in to see me. -
'They'll have to climb to the top of the
trees, then," said Jenny, "for the ground
descends in every direction, and the road.
too', is so far away. Besides that, who
is there that wants to see you?"
Rose didn't know. She was sure there
was somebody, and when Mrs. Howland
came np with one of the nicest little sup
pers' oh a small' tea tray,'' how she was
shocked to find the window covered with
her best blankets, which had. been packed
away In the closet adjoining.
JRose.was afraid somebody, would look
; in and see her, said Jenny, as she read
.her grandmother's astonishment in her
"face. - !-- -:i''
VLook in and see her!", repeated Mrs.
t r t 3 wri l i : . i
ixuwittuu. x ve uuurcKKu wiuiuui cur
tains these forty years, and I'll be bound
nobody ever peeked at me. But come,"
she added, ; "set up. and see. if you can't
eat a mouthful or so. Here s some broil-
. ed chicken, a slice of toast, some currant
jelly that I made myself, and the swim
minest cup of black tea yon ever see.
It'll eenamost bear up an egg."
"Sweetened with brown sugar, ain't
It?" said Rose, sipping a little of the tea.
In great distress the good old lady re
plied that she was out of White sugar.
but some folks loved brown just as well.
'Ugh! Take it away," said Rose. "It
makes me sick, and I don't believe I can
eat another mite;" but, in spite of her be
lief, the food rapidly disappeared, while
she alternately made fun of the little
silver spoons, her grandmother's bridal
gift, and found fault because the jelly
was not put in porcelain jars instead of
the old blue earthen teacup, tied over
with a piece of paper! . .
Until a late hour .that night did Rose
keep the whole household on the alert,
doing the thousand useless things which
her nervous fancy prompted. First the
front door, usually secured with a bit of
whittle-shingle, must be nailed, "or some
body would break in." Next the windows,
which in the rising wind began to rattle,
must be made fast with divers knives.
scissors, combs and keys; and, lastly, the
old clock must be stopped, for Rose was
not accustomed to its striking, and it
would keep her awake. " -.'-"-
'Dear me!" said the tired old grand
mother, when at about midnight she re
paired to her own cozy little bedroom.
'how fidgety she is. I should of s posed
that Iivin' in the City so, she'd got used
to noises." . ; " 7
In a day or so Mr. Lincoln and Jenny
went back to Boston, bearing with them
a long list of articles which Rose must
and would have. As they were leaving
the house Mrs. Howland brought out her
black leathern, wallet,, and, forcing two
ten-dollar bills into Jenny's hand, whis
pered, "Take it to pay for them things.
Your pa has need enough for his money,
and this is some I've earned along knit
ting and selling butter. At first I thought
I would get a new chamber carpet, but
the old one answers my turn very well,
so take it and buy Rose everything she
All this time the thankless girl upstairs
was fretting and muttering about her
grandmother's stinginess in not having a
better carpet "than the old, faded thing,
which looked as if manufactured before
On the same day . when Rose Lincoln
left Boston for Glen wood Mrs. Campbeil
sat in her own room,, gloomy and de
pressed. For several days she had not
been well, and besides that Ella's engage
ment with Henry Lincoln filled her heart
with dark forebodings, for rumor said
that he was unprincipled and dissipat
ed, and before giving her consent Mrs.
Campbell had labored long with Ella,
who insisted that he was no worse than
other young men most of them drank
occasionally, and Henry did nothing
more!" ..; ;:.
On this afternoon she had again con
versed with Ella, who angrily declared
that- she would marry him - even if she
knew he'd be a drunkard, adding, "But
he won't be. He loves me' better than
all the world, and I shall help him to re
form." - ... - . V -
"I don't believe your sister would mar
ry him," continued Mrs. Campbell, who
was becoming much attached to Marv,
"1 don't believe she would either, and
for a good reason, too," returned Ella,
pettishly jerking her long curls. - "But
can't see why you should bring her urn
for he has never been more than polite
to her, and that he assured me was whol
ly on my account."
"She isn t pleased with your engage
ment!" said Mrs. Campbell, and Ella
Well, what of that? It's nothing to
her, and I didn't mean she should know
it, but Jenny, like a little tattler, must
needs tell her, and so she has read me a
two hours' sermon on the subject. She
acted so queer, too, I didn't know what
to thing of her, and when she and Henry
are together they look so funny that I al
most believe she wants him herself, but
she can't have him no, she can't have
him," and secure in the belief that she
was the first and only object of Henry's
affection, Ella danced out of the room to
attend to the seamstress who was doing
her plain sewing.
After she was gone Mrs., Campbell fell
asleep, and for the first time in many a
long year dreamed of her old home in
England. She did not remember it her
self, but she had so often heard it de
scribed by the aunt who adopted her that
now it came vividly before her mind, with
Its dark stone walls, its spacious grounds,
terraced- gardens,- running vines and
creeping roses. Something about it, too,
reminded her of what Ella had once said
of her mother's early home, and 'when
she awoke she wondered that she had
never questioned the child more concern
ing her parents. She was just lying back
again npon her pillow when there was a
gentle rap at the door, and Mary How
ard's soft voice asked permission to come
"Yes, do," said Mrs. Campbell. "Per
haps you can charm away my headache,
which is dreadful." -
"I'll try," answered Mary. "Shall I
read to yon?"
"If you please; but first give me my
salts. You'll find them there in that
drawer." - - . . - . ' :
Mary obeyed, but started as she open
ed the drawer, for there, on the top, lay
a small, old-fashioned miniature of a fair
yonng child, so nearly resembling Franky
that the tears instantly came to her eyes.
"What Is it?" asked Mrs. Campbell,
and Mary replied: j
"This picture so much like brother
Franky. May I look at it?" '
"Certainly," said Mrs. Campbell "That
is a picture of my sister."
vFor a long time Mary gazed at the
sweet, childish face, which, with its clus
tering curls, and soft brown eyes, looked
to hef so much like Franky. At last.
f Turning to Mrs. Campbell, she said, "You
must have loved her very much. : What
was her name?" - :
"Ella Temple," was Mrs. Campbell's
reply, and Mary instantly exclaimed:
"Why, that was my mother's name."
"lour mocuer, diary i your momerr
said Mrs. Campbell, starting op from ner
pillow. "But no; it cannot be. - Your
mother is lying in Chicopee, and EUa,
my sister, died is England."
Every particle of color had left Mary
face, . and her eyes, now black as mid
night, stared wildly at Mrs. Campbell.
The sad story, which her mother had
once told her, came back to her mind.
bringing with It the thought which had
so agitated her companion.
"Yes," she continued, without noticing
what Mrs. Campbell had said, "my moth
er was Ella Temple, and she had two
sisters, one her own, and the other a
half-sister Sarah Fletcher and Jans
Temple both of whom came to America
many years ago." .
"Tell me more tell me all you know,"
whispered Mrs. Campbell, grasping
Mary's hand: "and how It came about
that I thought she was dead my sister."
Upon this point Mary could throw no
light, but of all that she had heard from
her mother she told, and then Mrs. Camp
bell, pointing to her writing desk, said:
Bring it to me. I must read that let
Mary obeyed, and taking out a much-
soiled, blotted letter, Mrs. Campbell ask
ed her to read it aloud. It was as fol
lows:. . "- - - - '
Daughter Jane I now take this oppor
tunity of informing you that I ve lost
your sister Ella,, and have now no child
saving yourself, who, if yon behave well,
will be my only heir. Sometimes I wish
you were . here, fct, it's lonesome living
alone, but I supp le you re better off
where ydu are. Do you know anything
of that girl Sarah? Her cross-grained
uncle has never written me a word since
he left England. If I Uve three years
longer I shall come to America, and un
til that time, adieu.' Your father, " '
How short and cold!" was Mary's first
exclamation, for her impressions of. her
grandfather were not very agreeable.
It is like all his letters," answered
Mrs. Campbell. "But it was cruel to
make me think Ella was dead, for how
else could I suppose he had. lost her?"
Then, as the conviction came over her
that Mary was indeed the child of her
own sister, she wound her arms about her
neck, and kissing her : lips, murmured.
"My child Mary. Oh, had I known this
sooner, yon should not have been so cru
elly deserted, and little Allle should nev
er have died in the almshouse. But youll
never leave me now, for all that I have
is yours yours and Ella s.
The thought, of Ella touched a new
chord, and Mrs. Campbell's tears were
rendered less bitter by the knowledge
that she had cared for, and been a mother
to, one of her sister's orphan children.
I know now, why, from the first, I
felt so drawn toward Ella, and why her
clear, large eyes are so much like my own
lost darling's, and even you, Mary
- Here Mfs. Campbell paused, for proud
as she now was of Mary, there had been
a time when the haughty lady turned
away from the sober, homely little child,
who begged so piteously "to go - with
Ella" where there was room and to spare.
AU this came up in sad review before
Mrs. Campbell, and as she recalled the
mcidents of her sister b death, and
thought of the noble little Frank, who
often went hungry and cold ' that - his
mother and sisters might be warm and
fed, she felt that her heart would burst
with its weight of sorrow.
Oh," said she, , to die so near me
my only sister, and I never know it
never go near her. I with all my .wealth,
as much hers as mine and she dying of
starvation. ' ., . . r;
Wiping the hot tears from her own
eyes, Mary strove to comfort her aunt
by telling how affectionately her mother
had always remembered her. - . And even
on the night of her death," said she, "she
spoke of you, and bade me, if I ever
found you, love you for her sake."
.. "Will you, do you love me?"askef Mrs.
Campbell. ' .
Mary's warm kiss upon her cheek, and
the loving clasp of her arms around her
aunt's neck, was a sufficient answer.
"Do you know aught of my Aunt
Sarah?' Mary asked at last; and Mrs.
'Nothing definite. From father we first
heard that she was in New York, and
then Aunt Morris wrote to her nele, mak
ing inquiries concerning her. ;' I. think the
Fletchers were . rather peculiar in their
dispositions, and were probably jealous
of our -family, for the letter was long un
answered, and when at last Sarah's nncle
wrote, he said, that '.'independent of old
Temple's aid she had . received a
education;' adding further that she had
married and gone West, and that he was
intending soon to follow her. He neither
gave the name of her husband nor the
place to which they were going, and as
all our subsequent letters were unanswer
ed, I know not whether she is dead or
alive; but often when I think how alone
I am, without a relative in the world.
have prayed and wept that; she might
come back; for though I. never saw her
that I remember, she was my mother's
child, 'and I should love her for that.
'-"-.- (To be continued.).
.Not Euonxh Hen.
- "Say!", cried the first .'longshoreman.
"ain't ye got any better sense than to
be smokin' while we're handling these
kegs o' powder? Don't ye know there
was an explosion last week that blowed
up a dozen men?" .
"Faith," replied Cassldy, "that cud
never happen here."
rWhy not?" . .
V'Bekase there's only two av us work-
In' here." Philadelphia Press.
- - The Dead Come to Life. -
: Mr. Thlrtlwua The jokes the funny
men perpetrate nowadays are nothing
like those that delighted me when
was a boy.
Mr, Fortiwun Walt 'till you're a lit
tle older. . They're now using the ones
that delighted my boyhood. And, by
the way, don't say '"perpetrate." "Per
petuate" is the word. Philadelphia
Press. - , -?-
A Smooth Anawer.
.He Do you think you really need, a
new dress now? - .-
She You don't know anything about
It- I wish I had known before I mar
ried you what a stupid you are.
He You might have guessed it easily
wnen 1 onered to marry you. Pick-
Me-Up. - . ; ,
. Self-Tauarht. -
"Learning the cornet, Is he? Who'
his teacher?" - '
"He has none. He's his wn tooter."
OUR BOYS AND GIfiLS.
THIS IS THft DEPARTMENT OF
THE PAPER -;
Quaint Sajrlng-sand'Cute Doings of the
Little VolJca Everywhere, Gathered
and Printed Here tor AU Other Lit
tle Onoa to Read.
Bow to Make a Good Kite. '
Kite-flying Is one of the best outdoor
amusements that a noy could have; in
deed, we know a good many men that
enjoy It as much as they did . when
they were young. vrhe writer of this
paragraph is one of them. There is a
fascination about it that is not easily
described. City boys have little chance
to Indulge In the sport, - except when
they go to the country or the seashore,
during vacation, but those that live in
the suburbs, or In places where they
may conveniently reach the open fields,
ought all to have their kites. "
Fancy designs of all kinds are sold in
the shops, but If a boy wishes to have
all the fun that there is in the sport he
ought to make his -own kite. Besides,
It will give him better service. .
The accompanying cut shows how a
good flyer may be made. Out of some
straight-grained, light wood cedar pre
ferredmake four, sticks,' about one-
eighth of an Inch :fn thickness. Let
two of them be 22 Inches In lengthT
one 17 Inches, and the other 13
inches.- Place them as shown in the
picture, and tack them firmly where
they cross. Cut little notches at the
ends of the sticks, and put a string
around the whole frame, making it
taut and tying It so that it will not slip.
Now cut out a piece of , very , thin
manila : paper tissue paper would do,
but thin manila is more serviceable-
one Inch larger, all around, than the
frame, and paste the edge over the
string. - Make a small hole .in the end
of the sticks at A, B, C, D, E and F,
and put in a string loosely from A to
F, from B to E, and from C to D. Make
a string loop from E to F, to. which the
tail of the kite Is to be attached. The
strings must come through to the paper
side of the kite, not the stick side.
The cord-by which you are to fly the
kite should be attached where the
strings cross each other; do this with a
loose knot enclosing all - the : -strings.
For -the tall,-" use a strip of muslin
about "one inch In width, and .fifteen
feet in length and' attach ten bobs
made of paper rolled up. If the kite
should dive, add more tall until it sails
steadily. - -- '"'
Use finei but strong, cord' for the' fly
ing, and don't attempt it In a high
wind.-- Kites always fly better in a
moderate wind. 5 - -
. ' The Rival Hopper-,
Beneath a tree with spreading boughs.
On margin of a pool, . .
A bloated frog croaked merrily,
Fanned by the breezes cool.
Hisvis-a-vis a grasshopper" r ...
' Upon the other shore,-, -r: -Whose
famous leaps are chronicled
In books of childish lore. ... .
Now both were hoppers of renown; -,
The onethat was so thin .
Sent a swift challenge to the frog
.- To jump and see who'd win.
A twinkle shone In froggie's eye,
He answered with a wink; ..
Then both shot upward in the air.
And then what do yon think?
Why, froggie settled down again ' .
Beneath a toadstool gray, - - -Ready
for other bits as sweet --
" That chanced along his way.
For crafty was the heart that beat -
Beneath that mottled coat; -, ,.
He timed his leap so grasshopper -
- Jnmped right down froggie's throat"
Youths Companion. -t. i
Can you guess the title of the book 1
am thinking of?
In imagination I see a picture of It
I see a long, sandy stretch of shore,
the waves dashing up against the rocks
and hear the song of a robin. -The
merry laugh of a-fisherman's son Is
borne to me from the distance. Out in
the water a boat Is anchored and the
crew "are casting their nets over the
side. So my picture fades.
Can you tell me the name of my
Why, you say, "Robinson Crusoe," of
course! - -
Now I will picture another title for
you." These are two books. One Is a
sequel to the other. -
-1 see a schoolroom. The sun Is shin
ing 'on the floor and on the desks,
showing many a cut and scratch. Seat
ed at the desks are many little boys
and girls learning how to spell C-A-T,
cat, and D-O-G, dog. Some day thinks
their teacher,, these little boys and
girls will be men and women, but they
will still carry the XJ-A-T and D-O-O
- - A GOOD ILT1B. .--. ,
with them and will say categorical and
dogmatic. ' ' s
Now, what are the titles of mj
books? -. . , '-..'w..
Right: "Little L Men" and "Little
" Onion Dance
Have you ever heard of an "onion
dance?" That is the name of a curious
festival held every .year In the City
of Berne, Switzerland. . It takes place
after the great market T day-; when
thousands of pounds . of onions are
bought and sold.
On the Sunday preceding the market
day the onions remain In the street,
covered with cloths of every descrip
tion,; and early Monday morning the
sale begins. For two. days every one
you meet has at least one string of
A few days later comes the dances.
Every saloon and hall Is' decorated.
and the young peasants, girls and lads.
come to town and make merry. Every
hall is crowded, with a jostling throng
of ruddy-faced peasants, and dancing
Is kept up till the small hours of the
morning. . . - ; "
There is a 6-year-old boy In Califor
nia who can outhunt many a man. The
plucky youngster Is Austin Otis. . His
home is In the wooded hills about 15
miles back of Cozadero, where his fath
er owns some ,000 acres of land. The
boy has lived among the hills all his
life. He went hunting recently with
no companion but a half-breed fox
hound. Within two hours he had kill
ed a young buck Weighing 65 pounds.
He can bring down a deer with as
clean and pretty a shot as can any
veteran hunter in- the .country. He
has a keen eye and a stout heart.
"Sol l?'a Name."
Speaking of dolls, by the Way, the
Dorothys" of to-day may be surprised
to know that their beautiful name was
once so common among children In
nearly every household that it came
to mean merely "baby," and that this
was . the way its nickname '.'Dolly'
happened to be applied to the wooden
puppets that all children played with
In those old days. - '
Sunday School Teacher What do we
learn from the story of Samson?
Tommy (mournfully smoothing his
ragged locks) That It doesn't pay ter
have women folks cut a feller's hair.
" A SEVERE TEST.
Barbaric Sweethearts Hnst Be Heroic
. to. Be Worth Having.
Among the Arabs of Upper Egypt
the youth who proposes to a girl must
submit to a whipping at the hands of
all her male relatives; and, says a dry
narrator, "if he wishes to be consid
ered worths having, he must receive
the chastisement, which Is sometimes
exceedingly severe, with an expression
of enjoyment" .
Not Infrequently It is the maiden her
self who Imposes the test. The' Saka
lava girls of Madagascar make their
lovers, stand at a short distance from
a clever spear thrower and catch be
tween the arm and side every spear
thrown at them.- If the youth "dis
plays fear or falls to catch the spear,
he' is - lgnbminiously - rejected, but If
there be no flinching, and the spears
are caught he is at once proclaimed an
accepted lover." -- ;-
-'.Worse than this is the trial enforced
upon their suitors by the Dongolowee
girls. . When in doubt as to the respec
tive merits of two . rivals," the young
lady fastens a sharply pointed knife
to each elbow;, then, seating herself
between her lovers.- she " drives the
blades slowly into their thighs, and the
hero who takes the greatest length of
steel without a murmur wins the bride.
Maj. Mitchell, in . his "Expeditions
Into the Interior of Eastern Australia,'
says of the natives on the River Darl
ing, that all their Ideas of fighting are
associated with the possession of gins
or wives, and that after a battle the
wives "do not always follow their fu
gitive husbands from the field, but fre
quently go over, as a matter of course,
to the. "victors." ": "None but the brave
deserve the fair" Is a maxim well un
derstood of most . . barbaric . races.
. . An Ingenious Apparatus.
. A motor has been designed In France
which may be attached to the front of
any vehicle and driven like a horse.
is provided with reins for steering and
stopping the machine." -A pull on either
rein turns the apparatus in the corre
sponding direction, while a steady pull
on both reins slows down the-motor and
applies the brake. There Is also a sec
ondary "pair of reins for bringing the
vehicle to a standstill. ' But. the most
extraordinary1 motor In the world
that being erected by a 'French doctor,
In which he Intends, with two students;
to make a trip round the world. ' It will
contain ''- two - sleeping apartments,
large work-room, and four large tanks
for storing olL It will unquestionably
be the largest motor ever built.
Miss Swagger- Exponents of physi
cal culture tell us that we should not
Incline the upper part of. our bodies
forward In walking. i- ;J. ?V
Miss Swelldom I know, but it's sim
ply impossible to stand erect while
they wear these hang-over-in-front
hats. Ohio State Journal. '
Fond Mother Our John is certainly
; Fend Mother He's 'writing a gradu
ating speech about Abraham Lincoln.
Ohio State Journal. .-,
. The balance of trade Is not always a
political platform scale. --
Painting; Farm Bnildinsa,
Some one aas said that "paint and
putty are like charity, they cover up a
multitude of sins," or faults would
have been a better word, as not all
faults deserve to be called sins. When
the spring rains are over, and the wood
Is dry, but before the flies get plenty.
Is a good time to paint farm buildings,
carts and tools. It Is not necessary
to have a skilled painter to do all this if
economy is to be studied. The ready
mixed paints, properly used, will last
as long, look as well, and preserve the
wood as well as those mixed by the
painter, and any hired man or smart
boy can soon learn to spread them, not
as well as the man who learned the
trade, but vell enough to cover ,' the
buildings. ; When we first tried such a
job we received these directions which
helped ns much: "Keep the paint well
mixecL do not get too much on the
brush', and carry the hand steadily in
a straight line." Begin on something
or some old building where looks is not
very Important, and. a considerable im
provement will be seen in the workman
ship after even a day's practice, and
when a second coat is put on It should
be smooth enough to hide the defects
of the first attempt ' Most of the ready-
mixed paints are Improved by the addi
tion of a little more oil and turpentine.
at least toward the bottom of the can.
as but few will keep them sufficiently
well stirred. American Cultivator. : .
, . Sellable Farm Siphon.
A correspondent of the Ohio Farmer
describes a siphon which he made him
self, of three-quarter-Inch galvanized
pipe. It lifts the wa
ter, be says, IS to 22
from a well and de
livers It into a water
ing trough something
like 100 yards from
and J5 feet below
the water level of
the well. It works
as well at 22 feet
from top, but : not
quite as fast as at 18
feet The one thing
flint la 1rw Icnanaohla
A FABM SIPHON.
to siphon water this height is a valve at
A to close and hold water in pipe while
filling. This valve Is similar to the
lower valve In a suction pump; just fits
in a three-quarter-inch coupling, and
admits a full stream when open.
The lower end -at B is handled as a
feed' pipe from storage tank, with a
float valve. Have a plug, C, outside, to
connect with a hose. At the top have
a short piece of pipe bent down at
either side of the tee, E, E, to Insure
D being the highest point in the pipe
from well to trough. At the upper hole
at D have a piece of pipe, G, say three
feet long, with good-sized boles at F, F.
Have the pipe inclosed as the core to
chamber C, L; chamber made of heavy
copper soldered to pipe above and be
low F, F. Have pipe threads protrud
ing at H so as to connect a three-quarter-inch
steam valve S. This Is safer
and more convenient than a plug. Have
a bit of threaded pipe screwed into top
of valve, T, with enough threads, say
one inch, protruding to screw on a fun
nel, H. Our chamber is three feet of
three-inch pipe connected by graduates
at H and D, but they are not kept ex
cept at the large plumbing shops and
the chamber is not as I would like.
The chamber should hold three or four
gallons and then the siphon will run
for two weeks or more with one filling.
. To fill siphon, close valve B first,
then fill funnel, R; next open valve S
and weight of water In pipe will close
valve A . You cannot pump air out at
valve S or B. Siphon runs about fou;
gallons per minute with 6 feet head
below water level, with valve B wide
open. , '
- Milk from Farrow Cows,
' The "milk of - cows that have long
passed- the season of greatest produc
tion, which Is soon after farrowing, is
much richer. in butec fats than that
which the same cows give soon after
dropping their calves, says an ex
change. If they had not been bred, the
milk also usually contains more of the
albuminoids also. " For this reason It is
harder to digest and, as cows' milk is
at best unsuited to the stomach of a
young infant that - from new . milk
cows, where procurable. Is always to
be preferred. The milk of the cow is
too rich in fats, causing the Infant to
throw It up soon after taking a quan
tity. It may be improved by diluting
It with warm water made quite sweet
with pure sugar. Even farrow cows'
milk, thus prepared may be used with
safety If the Infant is obliged to suck
It through a tube, through which it can
only get a small amount at a time.
. . The White Grub.
The white grub, which often in a dry
season eats off the roots of the grass
and corn, and will eat almost any root
which is not too hard, is the larva of
what is known as the June beetlepin
and farther South as the May beetle.
It often Is so abundant as to make It
J - r-
necessary to plow up fielcu m here they
have destroyed all the grass, and even :
then it .is difficult to destroy the grub.
But we have seen It stated that the
beetle, though it files mostly by night '
Is- a leaf-eating Insect and where the -trees
are sprayed with arsenltes many
of them are killed. As one of their fa-
j vorite foods Is the leaf of the hickory
tree, that should be sprayed regularly '
each year. American Cultivator. '
Coop for Youns- ChcV, .
In raising young chicks half the bat
tle Is in keeping them well' protected
from damp weather, and yet giving
them an abundance of air for proper
ventilation. . The coop Illustrated has
been thoroughly tested. It is built of
matched boards, and raised two Inches
from the ground by nailing cleats two
Inches thick around the bottom edges. -
GOOD COOP FOB CHICKS.
The front is hinged, and during the day
is used as a feeding board for both the
chicks and the mother hen. At night,
and when cold and stormy, the front is
closed over the slats and fastened with
a button. In the top front of the coop
holes are bored, which provide ample
ventilation. The form of the house
may be as the builder wills, although
the shape shown is less expensive than
the gable roof, and if matched boards
are used, as advised, will be quite as
Care of Teams.
It will soon be time to start the mow
ing machines at work, and possibly
many have done so already, although
the grass has not matured as early as
it does In some seasons. It Is a satis
faction to watch the grass fall before "
the rapidly playing knives, and to feel
that the horses are doing the work so
much faster and better than It used to
be done by hand labor. How we usedT
to sweat and swelter In haying time,
and how often we used to need to
quench our thirst as we came to the
end of the swath, some with water and
some with more potent beverages; Now
the man on the machine does not per
spire as much, or need to drink as of
ten, and we fear that he sometimes for
gets that the animals which are doing
the hard labor for him also need to
quench their thirst more ' frequently
than they would if quietly standing in
a well-ventilated stable. They should
not be expected to keep busily at work
for more than five hours at a time, and
they will do thnt much more comfort-
,0 1 n 1 M ntl..1 .
water about twice In that time. Take
a cask and bucket along to the field If
the watering place is not handy, and
offer them water occasionally. Massa
Buying Worn-Out Farms.
Nine men out of ten who have passed
through the struggles of ' handling a
worn-out farm, paying Interest on a
mortgage and getting from it a living
for a family, would certainly advise
the young farmer against taking such
a farm. Except In rare cases, the best
profits from farming come from the
small farm so manipulated that each
foot of ground yields the largest possi
ble results, and:, many times, more than
one crop. With this sort of farming
there can be a concentration of capital,
energy and materials not possible with
one who feels It necessary to buy a
Ehoes For Farm Horaes,
' Farm horses should go barefooted
until there is a necessity for shoeing
to preserve the hoof. Like farm, boys,
they should wear no shoes except on
special occasions until they are about
14 years old. Many horses can serve a
lifetime on the farm without being
Don't begrudge robin a few cherries.
No weeds are more injurious than
Anybody can raise strawberries
with a spoon.
An ounce of cultivation is worth a
pound of manure. . "
- Berries well picked and packed ars
well received In market ;
. Do not let the wheat and rye get
dead ripe before harvesting. '-''
Even a nice, refined girl may have' a
rough chap on tier bands. ' v
" Do your pears crack? The remedy Is
to spray with Bordeaux mixture. Do
It now. , ''.
- Just as like as not your lima bean
poles are too long. ' It makes, the vines
tired to climb so high. , '
Spray the grafts just put In; often
they do not start off well on account'
of fungi, which Bordeaux mixture will
cure. ' , '- - ' ' - ' ' -
' Don't, wait until your plants are bad
ly injured by plant lice before apply
ing the kerosene emulsion or tobacco
water. ".:'' ;".'.': .:" - , - ,
. For late : sugar corn for the table;,
plant the last week of June or iu July
up to the Fourth. Such late com al
ways meets a ready sale hi market. .
.Borers should be bunted for, tjuin
exuding at the root of peai h trees is a
sure sign of their presence." Dig tlieiu
out with a knife, or kill them with a
piece of wire. ..