SEMI-WEEKL.Y,
TINIOX Eatab. July, 1897.
OAZBTTK Ktsb. Deo., 1868.
! Consolidated Feb., 1899.
COKVALIilS, BENTON COUNTY, OREGON, TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 3, 1901.
VOL. IT. NO. 19.
! H'HI'H"i'l"HttH'4tlltH4'M I I H "M-H' M IV
ff The Doetor'J fjilemma j
By Hesba
CHAPTER II. (Continued.)
A little crumbling path led round the
rock and along the edge of the ravine.
I chose it because from It I could see
all the fantastic shore, bending in a semi
circle towards the isle of Breckhou, with
tiny, untrodden bays, covered at this
hour with only glittering ripples, and
with all the soft and tender shadows of
the head-lands falling across them.
I was just giving my last look to them
when the loose stones oa the crumbling
path gave way under my tread, and be
fore I could recover my foothold I found
myself slipping down the almost perpen
dicular face of the cliff, and vainly
clutching at every bramble and tuft of
grass growing in its clefts.
I landed with a shock far below, and
for some time lay insensible. As nearly
as I could make out, it would be high
water in about two hours. Tardif had
set off at low vjater, but before starting
he had said something about returning at
high tide, and running up his boat on the
beach of our little bay. If he did that
he must pass close by me. It was Sat
urday morning, and he was in the habit
of returning early on- Saturdays, that he
might prepare for the services of the
next day. .
A last whether years or hours only
had gone by, 1 could not then have told
you I heard the regular and careful beat
of oars upon the water, and presently
the grating of a boat's keel upon the shin
gle. I could not turn round or raise my
head, but I was sure it was Tardif.
"Tardif!" I cried, attempting to shout,
but my voice sounded very weak in my
own ears, and the other Bounds about me
seemed very loud. -
He paused then, and stood quite still,
listening. I ran the fingers of my right
hand through the loose pebbles about me,
and his ear caught the slight noise.- In
a moment I heard his strong feet coming.
across, them towards me. -
"Mam'zelle," he exclaimed, "what has
happened you?"
I tried to smile as his honest, brown
face bent over me, full of alarm. It
was so great a relief to see a face like
his after that long, weary agony.
"I've fallen down the cliff," I said
feebly,. "and I am hurt."
The strong man shook, and his hand
trembled as he stooped down and laid
It under my head to lift it up a little.
His agitation touched me to the heart.
"Tardif," I whispered, "it is not very
much, and I might have been killed. I
think my foot is hurt, and I am quite
sure my arm is broken."
He lifted me in his arms as. easily and
tenderly as a mother lifts up her child,
and carried me gently up the steep slope
which led homewards. It seemed a long
time,, before -we reached the farmyard
gate, and he shouted, with a tremendous
voice, to his mother to come and open it.
Never, never shall I forget that night.
I could not sleep; but I suppose my mind
wandered a little. Hundreds of times I
felt myself down on the shore, lying help
less. .Then I was back again in my own
home in Adelaide, on my father's sheep
farm, and he was still alive, and with
no thought but . how to make everything
bright and gladsome for me; and hun
dreds of times I saw the woman who
was afterwards to be my stepmother,
'eallng np to the door and trying to get
In to him and me.
Twice Tardif brought me a cup of tea,
freshly made. I was very glad when
the first gleam of daylight shone into my
room. It seemed to bring clearness to.
my brain.
"Mam'zelle," said Tardif, coming to
my side. "I am going to fetch a doctor."
"But It is Sunday," I answered faint
ly. I knew that no boatman put out to
sea willingly on a Sunday from Sark; and
the last fatal accident, being on a Sun
day, had deepened their reluctance.
"It" will be right, mam'zelle," he an
swered, with glowing eyes. "I have no
fear."
"Do not be long away, Tardif," I said,
sobbing.
"Not one moment longer than I can
help," he replied. ' ,
Z'14' CHAPTER III.
I, Martin ... Dobree, come into the
Grange, belonged to Julia; and fully half
of the .year's household expenses were de
frayed by her. Our practice, which he
story to telj my remarkable share in its
events. Martin, or Doctor Martin, I was
called throughout Guernsey. My father
was ur. uoDree. tie belonged to one of
the oldest families- in the island, but our
branch of it had been growing poorer in
stead -of richer during the last three or
four generations. We had been gravi
tating steadily downwards.
My father lived ostensibly by his Dro-
fesslon, but actually upon the income of
my cousin,' Julia Dobree, who had been
his ward from her childhood. The house
we dwelt In, a pleasant . one in the
and I shared between us, was not a
large one, though- for its extent it was
lucrative enough. But there always is
an immense number of medical men in
Guernsey in proportion to its population,
ana ine. isiana is neaitny. r There was
: small -ehance for any of ns to make
fortune.
My engagement to Julia came about so
easily and" naturally that I was perfect
ly contented with it. We had been en
gaged since Christmas, and were to be
merried in the early summer. We were
to set up housekeeping for ourselves; that
was a point Julia was bent upon. A
suitable house had fallen vacant in one
of the higher streets of St. Peter-port,
which commanded a noble view of the
sea and the surrounding islands. We had
taken it, though it was farther from the
Grange and my mother than I should
have chosen my home to be. She and
Julia were busy, pleasantly busy, about
the furnishing. . -
That was about the middle of March.
I had been to church one Sunday morning
' with these two women, both devoted to
me and centering all their love and hopes
In me, when, as we entered the house
on my return. I heard my father calling
"Martin! Martin! as loudly as he could
from his consulting room. I answered
the call Instantly, and whom should
Stretton
see but a very old friend of mine. Tar
dif, of the Havre Gosselin. His hand
some but weather-beaten face betrayed
great anxiety. My father looked cha
grined and irresolute.
"Here's a pretty piece of work. Mar-
fin," he said; "Tardif wants one of us to
go back with him to Sark, to see a
woman who has fallen from the cliffs
and broken her arm, confound it!"
"Dr. Martin," cried Tardif excitedly,
"I beg of you to come this instant even.
She has been lying in anguish since mid
day yesterday twenty-four hours now,
sir. I started at dawn this morning.
but both wind and tide were against me,
and I have been waiting here some time.
Be quick, doctor! It she should be
dead!"
The poor fellow's voice faltered, and his
eyes met mine imploringly. He and
had been fast friends in my boyhood, and
our friendship was still firm and true,
shook his hand heartily a grip which he
returned with his fingers of iron till my
own tingled again.
"I knew you'd come," he gasped.
"Ah, I'll go, Tardif," I said; "only
must get a snatch of something to eat
while Dr. Dobree puts up what I shall
have need of. I'll be ready in half an
hour." -
The tide was with us, and carried ns
over buoyantly. We anchored at the
fisherman's landing place below the cliff
of the Havre Gosselin, and I climbed
readily up the rough ladder which leads
to the path. Tardif made his boat se
cure, and followed me; he passed me,
and strode on np the steep track to the
summit of the cliff, as if impatient to
reach his home. It was then that
"HE PAUSED THEN.'
gave my first serious thought to the wom
an who had met with the accident.
"Tardif, who is this person that is
hurt?" I asked, "and -whereabout did she
fall?"
'She fell down yonder," he answered,
with an odd quaver in his voice, as he L
pointed to a. rough and rather high por
tion of the cliff running, inland; "the
stones rolled from under her feet so," he
added, crushing down a quantity of the
loose gravel with his foot, "and she slip
ped. She lay on the shingle' underneath
for two hours before I found her two
hours, Dr. Martin!"
Tardif 's mother came to us as we en
tered the house. She beckoned me to
follow her into an inner room. " It was
small, with a ceiling so low, it seemed
to rest upon the four posts of the bed
stead. There were of course none of the
little dainty luxuries about It, with which
I was familiar in my mother's bedroom.
A long low window opposite the head of
the bed threw a strong light npon t.
There were check curtains drawn round
It, and a patchwork quilt, and rough,
home-spun linen. Everything was clean,
but coarse and frugal, such as I expected
to find about my Sark patient, in the
home of a fisherman. -----
But when my eye fell upon the face
resting on the rough pillow I paused in
voluntarily, only just controlling an ex
clamation of surprise. There was abso
lutely nothing in the surroundings to
mark her as a lady, yet I felt in a mo
ment that she was one. There lay a deli
cate refined face, white as the linen, with
beautiful lips almost as white; and a
mass of light, shining silky hair tossed
about the pillow; and large dark gray
eyes gazing at me beseechingly, with an
expression that made my heart leap as it
had never leapt before.
That was what I saw, and could not
forbear seeing. I tried to close my eyes
to the pathetic beauty of the face before
me; but it was altogether in vain. .If 1
had seen her before, or if I had been
prepared to see any one like her, I might
have succeeded; but I was completely
thrown off my guard. There the charm
ing face lay; the eyes gleaming, the white
forehead tinted, and the delicate. mouth
contracting with pain;' the bright silky
curls tossed about in confusion. I see it
now, just as I saw it then.
CHAPTER IV.
I suppose 1 did not stand still more
than five seconds, yet during that pause
a host of questions had flashed through
my brain. Who was this beautiful crea
ture? Where had she come from? How
did it happen that she was in Tardif a
house? and so on. But I recalled myself
sharply to my senses'; I was here as her
physician, and common, sense and duty
demanded of me to keep my head clear.
I advanced . to- her side and took the
small, blue-veined hand into mine, and
felt her pulse with my fingers.
"Ton are In very great pain, I fear,'
I said, lowering my voice.
"Yes," her white lips answered, ' and
she tried to smile a patient though
dreary 'smile, as she looked np into my
face; "my arm is -broken. Are you
doctor?" .: " ' . - ."" '. - ;
"I am Dr. ; Martin Dobree," I said
passing my hand softly down her arm,
The fracture was above the elbow, and
was of a kind to make the setting of- it
give her sharp, acute pain. I could see
she was scarcely fit to bear any further
Buffering Just then; bnt what was to .be
done? She was not likely to get much
rest tril the bone was set.
Did you ever take chloroform?" I
asked.
"No; I never needed It," she answered.
"Should you object to taking it?"
"Anything," she replied passively. "I
will do anything yon wish."
I went back Into the kitchen and open
ed the portmanteau my father had put
np for me. Splints and bandages wero
there in abundance, enough to set half
the arms In the island, but neither chlo
roform nor anything in the shape of an
opiate could I find. I might almost as
well have come to Sark altogether un
prepared for my case.
I stood for a few minutes, deep in
thought. The daylight was going, and it
was useless to waste time; yet I fonnd
myself shrinking oddly from the duty be
fore me. Tardif could not help but see
my chagrin and hesitation.
"Doctor," he cried, "she Is not going to
die?"
"No. no," I answered, calling back my
wandering thoughts and energies; "there
is not the smallest danger of that I
must go and set her arm at once, and
then she will sleep."
I returned to the room and raised her
as gently and painlessly as I could. Sho
moaned, though very softly, and she tried
to smile again as her eyes met mine look
ing anxiously at her. That smile made
me feel like a child. If she did it again
I knew my hands would be unsteady, and
her pain be tenfold greater.
"I would rather you cried out or shout
ed," I said. "Don't try to control your
self when I hurt you. Yon need not be
afraid of seeming impatient, and a loud
scream or two would do you good.
I felt the ends of the broken bone grat
ing together as I drew them into their
right places,- and the " sensation went
through and through me. I had set
scores of broken limbs before with no
feeling like this, which was so near un
nerving me. All the time the girl's white
face and firmly set lips lay under my
gaze, with the wide open, unflinching
eyes looking straight at me; a mournful,
silent, appealing face, which betrayed the
pain I made. her suffer ten times more
than, any cries or shrieks could .' have
done. I smoothed the coarse pillows for
her to lie more comfortably upon them.
and I spread my cambric handkerchief in
a double fold between her cheek and the
rough linen too rough for a soft cheek
like hers. -.'.-.
Lie quite still," I said." "Do not stir.
but go to Bleep as fast, as you tan."
Then I went out to Tardif.
The arm is set," I said, "and now she
must get some sleep. There is not the
least danger, only we will keep the house
as quiet as possible." .
I must go and bring in the boat." ho
replied, bestirring himself as. if some spell
was atsan end. "There will be a storm
to-night, and I should sleep the sounder
if she was safe ashore." '
The feeble light entering by the door.
which I left open, showed me the old
woman comfortably asleep in her chair,
but not so the girl. I had told her when
I laid her down that she must lie quite
still, and she was obeying me- implicitly.
tier cneeK still rested upon my hand
kerchief, and the broken arm remained
undisturbed upon the pillow which I had
placed under It But her eyes were wide
open and shining in the dimness, and I
fancied I could see her lips moving in
cessantly, though soundlessly.
Tne gale that Tardif had foretold came
with great violence about the middle of
the night. The wind howled up the long,
narrow ravine like a pack of wolves;
mighty storms of hail and rain beat in
torrents against the windows,- and the
sea lifted up its voice with unmistakable
energy. Now and again a stronger gust
than the others appeared to threaten to
carry off the thatched roof bodily, and
leave us exposed to the tempest with
only the thick stone walls about ns; and
tne latch of tne outer door rattled as if
some one was striving to enter.' -.,-.'.- , ..
The westerly gale, rising every few
hours into a squall, gave me no chance
of leaving Sark the next day, nor for
some days afterwards; but I was not at
all put out by my captivity. 'AH my in
terests my whole being in, fact was ab
sorbed in the care of this girl, stranger
as she was. I thought and moved, lived
and breathed, only to fight step by step
against delirium and death,
There seemed to me to be no possibility
of aid. The stormy waters which beat
against that little rock in the sea came
swelling and rolling In from the vast
plain of the Atlantic and broke in tem
pestuous surf against the - island. - Tar
dif himself was kept a prisoner in the
house, except when he went to loot after
his live stock. No doubt it would have
been practicable for me to get as far as
tne hotel, but to what good? . It would
be quite deserted, for there were no vis
itors'to Sark at this season. I was en
tirely engrossed in my patient, and 1
learned for the first time what their t2ak
is who hour after hour watch the pro
gress of disease in the person of one dear
to them. ',' . , . v : ' .
On the Tuesday afternoon, in a tern,
porary lull of the hail and wind, I start
ed off on a walk across the Island. The
wind was still blowing from the south
west and filling all the narrow sea be
tween us and Guernsey, with boiling
surge. Very angry looked the masses of
foam whirling about the sunken reefs,
and very ominous the - low-lying, hard
diocks oi clouds all along the horizon.
strolled as far as the Coupee, that giddy
pathway between Great and Little Sark,
where one can see the seething of the
waves at. the feet of the cliffs on both
sides three hundred feet below one. Some
thing like a panic seized me. My nerves
were too far unstrung for me to ventura .
across the long, narrow isthmus. I turn
ed abruptly again, and hurried as fa3t
as my legs would carry me back to Tar
dlf's cottage.
I had been away less than an hour, but
an advantage had been taken of my ab
sence. 1 rould Tardif seated at tne taoie,
with a tangle of silky, shining hair lying
before him. A tear or two had fallen
upon it from his eyes. I understood at
a glance what It meant. Mother Renouf,
whom ha had secured as a nurse, bad cut
off my patient's pretty curls as soon as I
was out of the house. Tardif s great
hand caressed them tenderly, and I drew
out one long, glossy tress and wound it
about my fingers, with a heavy heart.
"It is like the pretty feathers of a
bird that has been wounded," said Tar
dif sorrowfully. -
Just then there came a knock at the
door and a sharp click of the latch, loud
enough to penetrate dame Tardif s deaf
ears, or to arouse our patient, if she had
been sleeping. Before either of us could
move the door was thrust open and two
young ladies appeared upon the door sill.
- They were it flashed across me in an
instant old school fellows and friends
of Julia's. I declare to you honestly I
had scarcely had one thought of Julia till
now. My mother I had wished for, to
take her place by this poor girl's side, but
Julia had hardly crossed my mind. Why,
in heaven's name, should the appearance
of these friends of hers- be so distasteful
to me just now? I had known them all
my life, and liked them as well as any
girls I knew; but at this moment the
very sight of them was annoying.
They stood in the doorway, as much as
tonished and thunderstricken -as I was,
glaring at me, so it seemed to me, with
that soft, bright brown lock of hair curl
ing and clinging round my finger. Never
had I felt so foolish or guilty. .
(To be continued.)
American Coal the Best.
"Ever since I was aboy I have been
reminded of the old story about 'carry
ing coals to Newcastle,' whenever I
performed unnecessary tasks," said
Richard Harker of Newcastle-on-Tyne,
England, In the lobby of the Shore-
ham last night "To carry cojls to
Newcastle was supposed to be as futile
a task as trying to sweep back the
waves on the seashore. I have lived
to see coals carried to. Newcastle, how
ever, and, being an Englishman, it
grieves me -to say that the coals in
question came all the way from Amer
ica. .. "Within the last few years an enor
mous amount of coal has been shipped
from Norfolk, Va., to various parts of
England. Some of It went to Ports
mouth, to the naval station there, and
many tons were sent to Newcastle. We
have better facilities for handling coal
there than any other .place in the
United Kingdom. ; For "many years it
has been the center of the coal mining
Industry of our country and conse
quently, the arrangements and appli
ances for shipping fuel to various parts
of the country are away ahead of those
of other towns.
"The coal that comes from the west
ern portion of the State of Virginia
soft coal, I mean Is the finest fuel for
steamships that Is mined anywhere in
the world. The coal seems to produce
more steam from a small quantity than
any I have seen. - It is now used ex
tensively on the vessels of the British
navy and from what I saw a week ago
In Norfolk and Newport News I should
judge that the shipment must amount
to millions- of tons per year." Wash
ington Times.
A German Picture of the Future.
Scene A schoolroom of the twentieth
century.
Teacher (to a new scholar) "Jack,
are you Inoculated against croup?"
Pupil "Yes, sir."
"Have you been inoculated with the
cholera bacillus?" ;-".'"-'"r
'Yes, sir." - ' . ' " -..
'Have yon a written certificate that
you arc immune as to whooping cough,
measles and scarlatina?" " -.-
'Yes, sir, 1 have." '--'
'Have you your own drinking cup?"
Yes, sir." - . . '
'Will you promise not to exchange
sponges with your ' neighbor, and to
use no slate pencil but your own?" .
"Yes, sir.'- . , . . : , " ;
--"Will you agree to have your books
fumigated every week with sulphur.
and to have your clothes sprinkled with
chloride of lime?"
"Yes, sir." . - .
. "Then, Jack, you possess all that
modern hygiene requires; you can step
over that wire, occupy an isolated seat
made of aluminum, and begin your
arithmetic lesson." - ,'
' All Named the Same Date.
Hall Well, good-by. Come and see
me some time.
Story Awfully sorry,, old boy;: but
I've got over a hundred engagements
that day. ..
Hall A hundred ,.-engagements?
Nonsense!
Story Pact Within a few days I've
received over a hundred invitations to
friends' houses and in every case "some
time"-was the date mentioned. Boston
Transcript.
Looking- for Work.
"Yes, ma'am," said - the ragged fat
man; "I'm lookin' fur work. Yon ain't
got no odd Jobs o' scrubbin' or washin'
ter be did, have yer?"
"Why, you surely don't do scrubbing
or work of that" sort," said the house
keeper.' ; -V : v- ';-'' -
"Sure not I'm lookin' fur work fur
me wife." Philadelphia Record,.
--- . .Oldest Physician. .
: Gallus Ritter von Hockberger, Im
perial and royal counsellor of the Aus
trian court, is believed to be the oldest
duly qualified physician In the world.
He was born on Oct 15, 1808, and is
therefore 97 years of age. He has
been practicing for seventy-one years,
and still gives medical advice. " .
the way of the transgressor often
leads to foreign shores.
", i
Marketing: Garden Product.
Many fruit and vegetable growers In
the South and North make a mistake
In watching the market reports and
shipping goods when the quoted prices
are high and holding them back when
they are low. As a result when the
goods reach the market they find that
too many others have done the same
thing, and when the goods are received
conditions have changed, and the mar
ket is again glutted, and prices are
down. This system may do well for
the gardener who is so near to the mar
ket that be can have prices telephoned
out to him at night and have his prod
uce on hand before daylight, or get
them, at the -opening of the morning
market and deliver his produce at eight
o'clock. But the man whose products
must be two or three days on the road
would often .do better to ship his goods
when prices were low with the chance
of a rise before his consignments come
to hand. One truck farmer near Nor
folk, Va., who Is said to have retired
with nearly a million dollars made in
the business, used to have one good
commission agent In each of the sev
eral cities, to whom he shipped goods,
notifying them by wire of amount and
date of shipments, and they were then
prepared to receive orders for them or
to sell them for' cash on arrival, and If
hedlvided his shipments by any system
it was to keep each one well supplied
with good , produce, and accept the
average price. The dealers, knowing
they had all of bis goods In the city,
conld obtain the highest price of the
day for them. Massachusetts Plough
man. Soil Renovators.
The opinion seems to be general
among farmers that the only crops'
which can be used to improve the soil
are the legumes which gather carbon
nitrogen from the air and retain it, so
that when plowed under the nitrogen
is given to the soil. Another use these
legumes have Is that they supply
humus to the soil, which often is much
needed. There is another class, of
which rape Is a member,"whlch when
plowed under has the power to absorb
the phosphoric acid which . lies inert
when other, plants are grown, and
when such crops are plowed under
they return this phosphoric acid to the
soil for the use of the next plant placed
thereon, for once being made -active it
does not again become inert." Cow-horn
turnips are of this class, and recent ex
periments have proved their wonderful
value as soil renovators. The long
roots., force themselves deep into the
subsoil, forcing that soil to give up Its
plant food. Any crop which will bring
into play any of the plant foods that
lie inert when other crops are grown
will do a vast deal to add to the fertil
ity of the soil. All farms will not grow
crimson clover, but with cow peas, vel
vet bean and Canada field peas at hand,
one may readily obtain a legume that
can be grown and thus get nitrogen
cheaply, then If rape and other mem
bers of the turnip family will wake
up the phosphoric acid in the soil and
make it available, the question of soil
fertility comes pretty near being
solved. ' ' -.' - ' ..
Pasture Lands.
When I came out West more than a
quarter of a century ago, writes a cor
respondent of the Prairie Farmer, it did
not take many years to find out that it
was more profitable ' to pasture the
grass around me than to burn it In the
fall. This pasturing of the grass was
done so successfully that none was left
to burn or to pasture. Finally I was
compelled to break up the land and
farm it I raised large crops of small
grain, but Boon saw that It was a
money-losing game and tried to seed
my land back to grass. I found It very
difficult to get tame pastures to stick,
and if by accident I got a good stand
of timothy or clover, the latter would
not last last and the former after a good
crop or two would get what I called sod
bound and would not produce a load of
hay to the acre. .1 know now why the
timothy did no good after a year or
two. It was because we pastured It to
the roots, thinking it economical to let
the stock eat the last spear of grass
that showed up in the f all. Land hav
ing by that time advanced in price,' I
could not afford to own pastures of that
kind, and so I overstocked it to make
both ends meet -. I made up -my mind
to own less and better, stock, and this
change in no time made a great Im
provement in my pastures. I soon saw
that a growth of grass covered the pas
tnrnes in dry weather when all the
range in short pastures was burned.
The Value of Rainfall.
It is said that .the rainfall . brings
down about four pounds of ammonia,
or three and a third pounds of nitrogen
per acre, which may be correct as a
general statement or an average
amount, but where there are heaps of
decomposing vegetable or animal mat
ter from which ammonia Is escaping in
considerable amount the air contains
more ammonia, and. the rain or snow
will absorb more of it Unfortunately
for careless farmers it does not. drop
back to the place from which It rises,
but may be carried by the wind for
miles before returning to earth, and the
farmer who makes a compost heap and
does not keep it so covered with earth
or other absorbent as to prevent the
escape of ammonia may be adding to
the fertility of the garden of somebody
in the next county whom he never saw,
a -m u... ... ...
uoicuu ui wiuug it upon nis own soil,
that needs it more. Like old-fashioned
stories this has a moral. When caring
for manure or composts do not allow
nitrogen to escape, and keep your sur
face jjoll light and dry, that it may ab
sorb more from the atmosphere, as dry
earth is a good absorbent Exchange.
Growing Field Corn.
Many a farmer has been saying that
there was no profit in growing corn in
New England, when Western corn
could be bought at the market price of
several ears past but when they find
that a dry season in the West has in
creased the price ten cents a bushel.
and may add ten more before the sea
son is over, they rather envy the man
who has a field that will fill the old
corn crib and give a good stack of corn
stover to save the hay next winter.
He, at least, can afford to contribute
something to the Kansas sufferers who
have found the corn-crop a failure this
year. ' But we hope the man who has
corn to buy .will not be too hasty In
deciding to use less of It because of the
advance in price. If It is a loss to buy
corn Instead of growing it, it may be
a greater loss to reduce the. amount fed
to fattening stock, milch cows, swine or
poultry. If satisfied that it paid to feed
It at the old price, keep on as before
and hope for a better price for the
products. New England Homestead.
Rations for Dairy Cow.
Prof. T. L. Haecker, of the Minnesota
experiment station, after nine years'
experience, gives the following as to
the best ration for dairy cows: Ensi
lage -Is the foundation feed used and
the grain feed consists of five parts
bran, five parts cornmeal and two parts
of new process gluten. meal, which con
tains 37 per cent protein, and the ra
tions are from five pounds to nine
pounds of this mixture, according to
the amount of milk given. It generally
takes three pounds of ensilage and half
pound corn fodder for every pound of
grain feed. If a cow's flow of milk
drops off for some cause or other, he
increases it by feeding roots besides
the grain for a time and then holds it
by grain alone. " Incidentally he men
tioned a cow which failed to breed for
four years which gave 300 pounds of
butter fat the fourth year and seems
to intend to keep np that gait
. Washing;-Ka-a-s.
-.There has been considerable com
plaint in the large markets, both East
and West, about some method used by
shippers in removing the soil from
eggs. They are not washed with water.
but with some substance that whitens
them, but which also closes the pores
of the shell and causes the egg to spoil
quickly. Poultrymen should avoid
using anything of this nature. If the
eggs are so badly soiled tha tthey need
washing, they should be kept at home
and not sent to a city market Any
ordinary soil may be readily removed
by gently rubbing the spot with a soft
cloth. In this way the bloom on the
shell is not removed as It is by wash
ing. ' ;
The Berkshire Hog.
The Berkshire is to the swine field
as the brave old oak to the forest He
has withstood the tempests of fads and
fashions for over 100 years and is still
the most lasting and enduring, said W.
D. McTavish at the Iowa State Breed
ers' .Association. He has bad no booms
or soaring prices, but has gone steadily
on in the even tenor of his way to that
practical improvement that makes him
to-day the best all round hog for all cli
mates and all purposes on earth.
Yellow Versa i White Corn.
Chemical analysis does not show that
there is any constant difference be
tween white corn and yellow corn as
to nutrients, says Prpf. W. A. Henry.
It Is doubtless true that some varieties
of yellow corn are better or more nutri
tious than some varieties of white corn,
but these differences are not inherent
because of color. ;
Storing: Sweet Potatoes. -
- Storing sweet potatoes In cottonseed
hulls, cotton seed and sand in the usual
way has given best results at the South
Carolina station. Storing- In : straw
has given the poorest results. It
appears that cottonseed bulls are ad
mirably adapted for use in storing
sweet potatoes. The same is true for
cotton seed, only to a less extent
Farm Notes.
Bone Is the thing to use on peach
trees every time, says one grower. -
Dig out the peach tree borers and jar
the curculio. : ',
The cause of foam rising on extract
ed honey Is said to be unripe honey.
Sugar beets should, not be permitted
to dry out after being dug, as there Is
always a loss of sugar.
Minnesota beekeepers in convention
seemed to favor sweet and alsike clov
ers as good to sow for bee pasture.
Kansas wheat growers are to have
seed of the hard, red, Russian or Tur- j g0 long as the flag remains untorn by
key wheat direct from the Crimea. It the wind the etiquette of Sumatra f or
is Imported through the State Millers' ' bids her to marry, but at the first rent,
and Grain Dealers' Associations. . - however tiny, she can lay aside her
"The queen of the money makers" weeds and accept the first offer she has.
is the latest and proud title bestowed Womanhood. -
by the poultry press upon the American 1
hen. Cotton, corn' and wheat are said.'
to be the only farm supplies that ex-'
ceed her output In value. ; , ; I
: Hessian fly, the bane of wheat grow-,
ers in the . older states, appears to be
going westward. Secretary Coburn, of
Kansas, Is credited with the advaice to
burn the wheat stubble as soon as the
wheat Is removed from the field. -
COSTLY CHURCH VESTMENTS.
Those at St. Patrick's Cathedral Valned
at Half a Million Dollars.
In St. Patrick's Cathedral there are
vestments valued at half a million dol
lars. The collection Is the finest In any
cathedral In America, and compares
very favorably with the vestments in
many famous cathedrals in Europe,
says the New York Sun.
Archbishop Corrigan presented to the
cathedral the only complete set of Holy
Thursday vestments in the world. Its
value Is ?30,000. In the set are thirteen
chasubles, ten delmatlcs, nine tunici,
two copes and lace albs, amices and
other vestments to correspond to the
Holy Thursday service alone.
These vestments are for the archle
piscopal set proper and are of the finest
imported white satin, embroidered In
gold 90 per cent fine. The principal
ornaments are the passion flower, wheat
sheaf and grapes, embroidered In silks
and gold, emblematic of Holy Week.
The body of the vestments is worked
with sprays of fuchsia. The remainder
of the vestments in the same set are
made of the finest moire antique, em
broidered in colored silk and gold to
correspond. This magnificent set of
vestments was made by the Dominican
nuns at Hunt's Point To embroider
the vestment it took fifteen nuns an en
tire year, working eight hours a day.
The chasubles are studded with pearls
and rubles. The archiepiscopal set
worn when the archbishop pontificates
are of the finest red silk velvet. There
are eight sets and they cost $5,000 each.
They are embroidered in pure gold.
A famous old set of vestments now in
the cathedral sacristy was a gift to the
late Archbishop Hughes. On these
vestments, which are of the finest gold
cloth, Is worked the archbishop's coat
of arms. They are embroidered In gold
and incrusted with jewels. The set
comprises vestments for twelve priests,
besides the archbishop.' It Is valued at
$20,000 and was Imported from Lyons.
Archbishop Corrigan has worn these
vestments occasionally.
Still another set of vestments that has
attracted general attention from ad
mirers of artistic embroidery waa pre
sented to Archbishop Corrigan. They
are rose color, and are worn on only
two days In the year, and are permitted
to cathedrals and collegiate churches
only throughout the world. They are
embroidered In fine gold and artistic
needlework. On the chasuble Is the
usual cross, and the figures on the cross
and designs on the frontispiece are
worked in silk of different colors, gold
and silver, on gold.
A very handsome set of vestments is
one worn for pontifical requiem mass.
It is of black moire antique silk.
A set of vestments for nuptial mass
was prepared especially for Archbishop
Corrigan's use. It is made of white
satin and around the outer edge is
worked a vine of forget-me-nots In col
ors that blend. Around the cross in the
back of the chasuble are worked gold
sprays of marguerites In vine shape.
In the center of each spray is Inserted
a pearl. The cross is richly ornament
ed in pearls and pink sea shell embroid
ery.
Hundreds of persons who desire to
examine the vestments visit the cathe
dral annually. Permission to see them
is granted only to very few persons.
Of late years there has been a grow
ing sentiment in favor of richer vest
ments in the Episcopal church. The
Episcopal churches In this city where
the most costly vestments are now are
St. Ignatius', St. Mary's, St. Edward
the Martyr's and the Church of the
Holy Cross.
The late Father Brown, of St. Mary's
Church, on 45th street, between 7th and
8th avenues, had some of the - finest
vestments In the country. He wore a
cope on the hood of which was embroid
ered in gold a figure of the Virgin. The
crown and necklace of the figure were
of the finest first water diamonds. An
gels that were embroidered about the
figure were also thickly embroidered
with diamonds. The embroidery on this
cope was of the most artistic quality,
and was worked by the Sisters of St.
Mary. Father Brown also wore a very
handsome stole embroidered with an
gels, the heads of which were worked
In human hair.
. Just His liuck.
Jack I'll tell you what's the matter,
George. . You . don't praise your wife
enough.. Even If things don't go right,
there's no use growling. Praise her ef
forts to please, whether they are suc
cessful or not Women like praise, and
lots of it r;
' George All right I'll remember It
George (at dinner, same day) My
dear, this pie is just lovely! It's deli
cious. Ever so much better than those
my mother used to make. She couldn't
equal this pie if she tried a. month.
George's Wife Huh! You've made
Sun of every pie I ever made, and
now '
George But this is lovely.' -George's
Wife That came from the
confectioner's. -.'..'
Widows' Flags. .
In Sumatra, if a woman is left a
widow, immediately after her hus
band's death she plants a flagstaff at
her door, npon which a flag is raised.
A Mean Burglar.
.The meanest burglar on record has
been at work in Montreal: He broke
into a baker's shop, and, finding only
32 -cents as plunder, 'took a single bite
of every pie and cake in the place, thus
rendering them unsalable, -
The best throw with the dice is to
throw them away. -