Corvallis gazette., October 15, 1901, Image 1

SEMI-WEEKUY,
UNION Eatnb. July, 1897.
GAZETTR Kstab. Uec, 1862.
Consolidated Feb., 1899.
CORVAIiLIS, BENTON COUNTY, OBEGON, TUESDAX, -OCTOBER 15,5 1901.
VOL. H. NO. 25.
.l,.l,,n,,l,,t,,.,H,,i..nn,n,i, w
The l3oetor'$
"By t-iesba
t
CHAPTER XI- (Continued.)
That was my sentence of banishment.
She had only addressed me once during
the conversation. It was curious to see
how there was no resentment in her
manner towards my father, who had sys
tematically robbed her, whilst she treat
ed me with profound wrath and bitter
ness. -
The report of my father's illness had
spread before I reached home, and suf
ficiently accounted for our visit to Jer
sey, and the temporary postponement of
my last trip to England before our mar
riage. My mother, Johanna and I kept
our own counsel, and answered the many
questions asked us as vaguely as the
I wrote to Tardif, telling him I was
going for an indefinite period to London,
and that if any difficulty or danger
threatened Olivia, I begged of him to
communicate with my mother, who had
promised me to befriend her as far as it
lay in her power. My poor mother
thought of her without bitterness, though
in deep regret. To Olivia herself I wrote
tL hub ur lwu, uuuiuK mjacu-ww ncaA
to resist the temptation. I said:
"My Dear Olivia I told you I,, was
abont to be married to my cousin Julia
Dobree; that engagement is at an end,
1 am obliged to leave Guernsey, and seek
my fortune elsewhere. It will De a long
time before I can see you again, if I ever
have that great happiness. Whenever
you feel" the want of a true and tender
friend, my mother is prepared to love you
as if you were her own daughter. Think
of me also as your friend.
. "MARTIN DOBREE.'
CHAPTER XII..
I left Guernsey the day before my
father and Julia returned from Jersey.
My immediate future was not as black
as it might have been. I was going di
rect to the house of my friend Jack Se
nior, who had been my chum at college.
He, like myself, had been hitherto a
sort 'of partner to his father, the well-
known physician, Dr. Senior, of Brook
street. They lived together in a highly
respectable but gloomy residence, kept
bachelor fashion. -for they had no wom
an-kind at all belonging to them. The
father and son lived a good deal apart,
though they were deeply attached to one
another. Jack had his own apartments,
and his own guests, m the spacious
bouse, and Dr. Senior had his.
The first night, as Jack and I sat np
together in the long summer twilight,
told him everything as one tells a friend
a hundred things one cannot pnt" into
words to any person who dwells .under
the same roof, and is witness of every
circumstance of- One' career. - " "
As I was talking to him, every emotion
and perception of my-brainy which had
been in a wild state of confusion and con
flict, - appeared to - fall into its proper
rank. sfi I. was no longer 'doubtful as -to
whether I had been' the fool my father
called me. ' My love for Olivia acquired
force a'ndvdecision. My judgment "that
it would have been a folly and a crime
to marry Julia became confirmed; . '-"''
"Old fellow," said Jack, when I had
finished, "you are in no end of a mess."'
"Well, I am," I admitted;, "but what
am I to do?" . - '
"First of all, how much .money, have
you?" he askedlT J . -' '. -.'
"I'd rather not say," I answered. ; '.
"Come, old friend,": ho said, " in his
most , persuasive tones; "have 'you fifty
pounds in hand?" - - .. -.
"No,". I replied. -
-That's bad!" he said; "but it might
be worse. I've lots of tin, and we al
ways went shares."
"I must look out for something to do
to-morrow,"' I remarked.
"Ah, yes!" he answered dryly, "you
might go -as assistant to a parish doctor,
or get a berth on board an emigrant
ship. There are lots of chances for a
young fellow. I tell you what," he said,
"I've a good, mind to'marry "Julia myself.:
I've 'always liked her, and we want a
woman in. .the house. '.That would put
things straighten wouldn't it?"- ' ,
"She would never consent to leave
Guernsey," I answered, laughing. "That
was one reason' why she was so glad to
marry me."
"Well, then," he said, "would you
mind me having Olivia?" - .
"Don't jest about such a" thing," I re
plied; "it is too serious a question with
me." ' ' 7
"You are xeally.ln love!" he answered.
"I will not jest 'at -it.. But I am ready
to do anything td help you, old' boy."
So it proved, for he and Dr. Senior did
their best during the next few weeks to
find a suitable opening for me. I made
their house my home, and was treated as
a most welcome .guest in it. Still the
time was irksome. They were busy
whilst I wjis unoccupied. .-. ; -
My mother s letters did not tend to
raise my spirits. The tone of them was
uniformly sad. She told "me the floild of
sympathy for Julia had risen very high
indeed; from which. 1 concluded that the
public indignation against myself must
have risen to the same tide mark. Julia
had resumed her eld occupations, but her
spirit was quite broken; Johanna Carey
had offered, to. go .abroad with her,, but
she had declined.
A friend of Julia's, said my mother in
another letter, had come to stay with
her, and endeavor to rouse her. It was
evident she did not like this Kate Dal
trey, herself, for the dislike crept out
unawares through" all the gentleness of
her .phrases. "She says she is the same
age as Julia," she. wrote, "but she is
probably some years older; for as she
does not belong to Guernsey we have no
opportunity -of knowing." ' I laughed
when I read that "Your father admires
her very much," she added.-
There was not a word about Olivia.
Sark itself was never mentioned, and it
might have sunk' into the sea. My eye
ran over every letter first with the hope
of catching that name, but I could not
find It. This persistent silence on my
mother.' part was very, trying. ;
I had been away from Guernsey two
- months, and Jack was making arrange
ments for a long absence from London
as soon as the season was over, leaving
fjilemtna.
Stretton
I'l"!'1
me in charge, when I received the fol
lowing letter from Johanna Carey:
Dear Martin Your father and Julia
have been here this afternoon, and have
confided to me a very sad and very pain
ful secret, which they ask me to break
gently to you. You must come home
again for a season. . Even Julia wishes
it, though she cannot stay in the same
house with you, and will go to her own
with her friend Kate Daltrey. Your
father cried like a child. He takes it
more to heart than I should have expect
ed. Yet there is no immediate danger;
she may live for some months yet. My
poor Martin, you will have a mother only
a few months longer. Three weeks ago
she and I went to Sark, at her own ur
gent wish, to see your Olivia. I did not
then know why. She had a great longing
to see the unfortunate girl who had been
the cause of so much sorrow to us all.
but especially to her, for she has pined
sorely after you. We did -not find her
in Tardif's house, but Suzanne directed
us to the little graveyard half a mile
away. - We followed her there, and rec
ognized her, of course, at the first glance.
She is a charming creature, that I allow,
though I wish none of us had ever seen
her. Your mother told her who she was,
and the sweetest flush and smile came
across her face! They sat down side by
side on one of the graves, and I strolled
away, so I do not know what they said
to one another. Olivia walked down
with us to the Havre Gosselin, and your
mother held her in her arms and kissed
her tenderly w Even I could not help kiss
ing her. - - - ;
"Now I understand why yoar mother
longed to see Olivia. She knew then
she has known for months that her days
are numbered. When she was in London
last November she saw the most skillful
physicians, and they all agreed that her
disease was incurable and fatal. Why
did she conceal it from you? Ah, Mar
tin, you must know a woman's heart, a
mother's heart, before you can compre
hend that. Your father knew, but no
one else. ' .1
"Do not come before you have answer
ed this letter, that we may prepare her
for your return. Write by the next boat,
"KISSED HER
and come by the one after. Julia will
have to. move down to the new house,
and that will be excitement enough for
one day. Your faithful, loving cousin,: .
'.'.- "JOHANNA CAREY."
'. 1 read this letter'twice, with a singing
in my ears and a whirling of my brain,
before I could realize the meaning. Then
I refused to believe it. - No one knows
better than a doctor how the most clever
head among us may be at fault.; My
mother dying of an incurable disease!
Impossible! I would go over at once and
save her. She ought to have told me
first . Who could have attended her so
skillfully and devotedly as her only son?
My mother had consulted Dr. Senior
himself when, she had "been in London.
He -did not positively cut off all hope
from me, though I knew well he was
giving me encouragement in spite of his
own carefully formed opinion. . He as
serted emphatically that it was possible
to alleviate her sufferings and prolong
her life, especially if her mind was kept
at rest. There was not a question as to
the necessity for my immediate return
to her. But there was still, a day for me
to tarry in London,
i Martin," said Jack, "why have you
never followed up - the clue about your
Olivia the " advertisement, you know?
Shall we go to those folks in Gray's Inn
Road this afternoon?" -J-
It' had been in my mind all along to do
so, but the listless procrastination of
idleness had caused me to put it off from
time to time. Besides, whilst I was ab
sent from .the- Channel Islands my curi
osity appeared to: sleeps It was enough
to picture Olivia in her lowly home in
Sark. V Now that I . was . returning to
Guernsey, and the opportunity was about
to slip by, I felt more anxious to seize it
I would learn all I could about Olivia's
family and friends, without betraying
any part of her secret - -
Of course there was not the smallest
difficulty in finding the office of Messrs.
Scott and Brown. . There did not seem
much business going on, and our appear
ance was hailed with undisguised satis
faction. The solicitors were two infe
rior, common-looking men, but sharp
enough to be a match for either of us.
We both felt it as if we had detected a
snake in the grass by its rattle. I grew
wary by instinct, though I had not como
with any intention to tell them what I
knew of Olivia. My sole idea had been
to learn something myself, not to impart
any information. But when I was face
to face with these men my business, and
the management of it, did not seem quite
ao simple as it had done until then.
"Do you wish to consult my partner
or me?" asked the keenest looking man.
"I am Mr. Scott."
"Either will do," I answered. "My
business will be soon dispatched. Some
months ago you inserted, an advertise
ment in the Times." ?
' "To what purport?" inquired Mr. Scott
"You offered fifty pounds reward," I
replied, "for information concerning a
young lady."
A gleam of intelligence and gratifica
tion flickered upon both their faces, but
quickly faded away into a sober and
blank gravity. Mr. Scott waited for me
to 'speak again, and bowed silently, as if
to intimate he was all attention.
"I came," I added, "to. ask you for the
name and address of that young lady's
friends, as I should prefer communicat
ing directly with them, with a view to co
operation in the discovery of her hiding
place. I need scarcely say I have no
wish to receive any reward. I entirely
waive any claim to that, if you will
oblige me by putting me into connection
with the family."
"Have you no information you can im
part to us?" asked Mr. Scott
"None, I answered decisively, "it is
some months since I saw the advertise
ment and it must be nine months since
you put it into the Times. I believe it
is nine months since the young lady was
missing."
"About that time," he said.
"Her friends must have suffered great
anxiety," I remarked.
"Very great indeed," he admitted.
"If I could render them any service
it would be a great pleasure to me," I
continued; "cannot you tell me where to
find them?" .-.
"We are authorized to receive any in
formation," he replied. -'"You must al
low me to ask if you. know anything
about the young lady in question?"
"My object is to combine with her
friends in seeking her,-' I said evasively,
"I really cannot give you any informa
tion; but if you will put me into commu
nication with them,. I may-toe useful to
them." ; . ...... '
"Well,'' he said, with, an air of candor.
"of course the young lady's friends are
anxious to keep in the background. It
is not a pleasant circumstance to occur.
in a family. Of course, if you could
give us an ydefinite information it would
be quite another thing. The young lady's
family is highly connected- Have you
seen any one answering to' the descrip
tion?" . ' ; .'
"It is a very common one," I answered,
"I have seen scores of yonng ladies who
might answer to it. I am surprised that
in London you could not trace her. Did
you apply to the police?"
"The police are blockheads," replied
Mr. Scott. "Will you be so good as to
see if there is any one in tne outer office.
TENDERLY.'
Mr. Brown, or on the stairs? I believe 1
heard a noise outside."
- Mr. Brown disappeared for a few min
utes; but his absence did not interrupt
the conversation. There was not much
to be made out of it on either side, for
we were only fencing with one another.
I learned nothing about Olivia's friends,
and 1 was satisfied he had learned noth
ing about her.
At last we parted with mutual dissat
isfaction; and I went moodily downtsairs,
followed by Jack. We drove back to
Brook street, to spend the -few hours
that remained before the train started
for Southampton.
"Doctor," said Simmons, as Jack jaid
him his fare, with a small coin added to
it, I m half afeared I've done some mis
chief. I've been turning it. over and over
in my head, and can't exactly see the
rigbts of it. A gent, with a pen behind
his ear, comes down, at that orfice in
Gray's Inn Road, and takes my number.
But after that he says a civil thing or
two. i ine young gents, he says, point
ing up tne staircase. very much so,
says I. 'Young doctors?' he says. 'You're
right, I says. .1 guessed so,' he says
and pretty well up the tree, eh?' 'Ay,'
I says; 'the light-haired gent is son to
Dr. Senior, - the great pheeseecian; and
the other he comes from Guernsey, which
is an island in the sea.' : 'Just so,' he
says; 'I've heard as. much.' I hope .I've
done no mischief, doctor? -
"I hope not Simmons," answered Jack
"but your tongue hangs too loose, my
man. Look out for a squall on the Olivia
coast Martin, he added.
My anxiety would have been very great
if I had not been returning immediately
to Guernsey. But once there, and
communication with Tardif, I could not
believe any danger would threaten Olivia
from which I could not protect or rescue
her. She was of age, and had a right to
act for herself. With two such friends
as Tardif and me, no one could force her
away from her chosen home.
.. .' (To be continued.)
" A Good Story. - --
Tommy Tell fne a story, uncle.
TJncle A story! But I don't know
what to tell you a story about .
Tommy Oh, tell me a story about a
little boy who had a good uncle who
gave him a quarter. Mirth. . ; .
-China's Kerosene Imports.
Before 1880 little was known in
China of kerosene. In 1890 more than
100,000,000 gallons were imported.
.. Optical Illusion.
This circle, called stroboscopic by the
Inventor, consists of a series of con
centric circles about one millimeter In
size, separated by white intervals of
six millimeters; These dimensions are
not absolute. They vary with the dis
tance, and may, in reality, be extended
several centimeters if there is question
of showing the phenomena to a larger
audience. If, in the design at hand,
you impart a circular movement the
SEE THE CIBCXES BEVOLVE.
circle seems to turn around its. own
center, and it effects this rotation in
the direction of the real motion and
with an equal angular speed. That is to
say, the circle seems to describe a com
plete revolution, while the cardboard
really describes it andj In the same di
rection. In order to gain the best effect
it is well in looking at: the circle dur
ing its revolution to fix one's gaze on
a near .point
.'' -'- The New Scholar.
It" was the first day of school," sun
shiny and beautiful, and the girls and
boys .that attended Miss Capen's pri
vate school were flocking toward her
house with eager, happy faces.
.When Milly Barnes and May Wander
opened the door of the schoolroom, they
stopped talking to start at three little
girls whom they , had neven seen be
fore. -
The new scholars sat in chairs near
the teacher's desk, and they looked very
stiff and conscious and uncomforta
ble..- .' - ; v -::-. -':: --'-;'. :-.
Nobody spoke to them until some chil
dren came, in who knew two of the
strangers. They began talking at once,
and that made the third little girl feel
more forlorn than ever. .
Finally May Wander turned to her
with the abrupt question:
"What's your name?" -
A flush overspread the new scholar's
face, but she looked down and did not
answer. ... " ...
May and her .companions laughed.
which attracted the attention of oth
ers, and the cause of their merriment
looked as if she wanted to run away
and cry.
Why don't you tell us what your
name Is?" persisted May. '
There was still no answer, .and with
smiles and whispering the children
drew a little apart
Presently another girl entered, and
there was a general rush toward her.
She was loud-voiced and talkative, and
the shy new scholar heard her say, in
reply to sotoebody.'s question: -
Why, it's Mr. Disbrow's little girL
Jessie Disbrow! She lives up on Maple
street Their servant told ours that she
was-10- years old and had never been
to school; so I guess she don't know
much, anyway!" . -
Jessie Disbrow listened with redden
ing cheeks, and then in a moment she
heard May Wander whisper loudly to
a late-comer, "The new scholar over
there don't know much Hattie Bangs
says so! I asked her what her name
and she couldn't tell!" ' . - ;
This was more than bashful, sensitive
little Jessie could bear, and slipping
into the dressing-room, she hurried to
put on her jacket. - If this was the
longed-for school, she thought she want
ed no more of it
Her hat was on and she was about to
start for home when the teacher found
her. .'.-. . .' ' - - '
Miss Capen understood little girls,
and she let Jessie have a good cry on
her shoulder before she attempted to
remove the wraps. . When she discov
ered the cause of the tears she must
have known Just how to smooth away
the trouble, for a few minutes later
Jessie reappeared in the school-room.
able to meet the gaze of the pupils with
little discomfiture. '.--.- .
Jessie was placed In the second class
In reading, along with May Wander
and Hattle Bangs; but when it was the
new scholar's turn to read she did not
stumble over the long words as Hattie
and May had stumbled, but she read
the paragraph assigned her almost as
well as Miss Capen -could have read
,The children looked their astonish
ment, and the teacher said at once that
Jessie must go Into the first class.
which brought a tiny smile of grateful
ness to the shy face. '
When the third class in arithmetic
was called there was a new surprise.
for it was learned that Jessie Disbrow
had studied nearly to fractions; and
when Hattie Bangs could not tell how
much seven times nine was, and Miss
Capen asked Jessie, she not only-gave
the correct answer, but at the teacher'i
request repeated the sevens and eights
of the multiplication table without
break." .- " s. .:.;' :.-'-..,
Glances of approval ran around the
class, and enough smiles of cordiality
and admiration were given the new
scholar to raise a hope in her heart that
friends would not be lacking.
In geography and grammar and spell-
ing Jessie was far in advance of the
others of ber age, and Miss Capen made
the little girl very happy by saying that
her mamma was so good a teacher she
would like her to come and teach some
of her girls and boys.
Well, Hattle," said May Wander,
when school was dismissed, "I hope
there won't any more scholars come
here that 'don't know much,' If they're
going to turn out like this one! My,
Isn't she smart! Miss Capen won't be
satisfied now till we can say the mul
tiplication table as well as Jessie Dfs-
brow can'." Youth's Companion.
Elmer Was Interested. .
"Mamma," queried little Elmer, "they
call stock brokers bulls and bears, don't
theyr
Yes, dear," answered the mother.
'Which Is papa a bull or a bear?"
asked the small inquisitor.
Really 1 don't know," she replied.
"But why do you ask?"
Because," rejoined Elmer, "I want
to know which I am a calf or a cub."
How Many There Were.
Oh, mamma!" exclaimed little John
ny, as he rushed into the house, "there
are two hundred dogs In our back
yard?'.
"Are you sure that there are that
many?" asked his mother. -
Well," replied Johnny, "there is our
dog and another one, anyway."
The Boy Csnld Direct Him.
Lady Little boy, can you direct me
to Blank's shoe store?
Small Boy Yes'm. You go right
down this street till you come to a drug
store. "
Lady Yes; and then
Small Boy Then you go into the drug
store and look in the directory. 1
Objected to Insects as Footl.
Little Edith had never seen a lobster
before, and when dining at the home
of a playmate she was offered a portion
she politely replied: "No, thank you; I
never eat grasshopper." - ; - "
HANDLED WITH CARE.
Gingerly Treatment of Small Boy Who
Had Swallswed Nitroglycerin.
A little boy who had drunk nitro
glycerin' furnished an awkward prob
lem for the police of the Twentieth and
Federal streets station yesterday morn
ing. They are chary of dealing with
Infernal machines of any kind, and did
not know how to handle a human
bomb. -
Edwin Wright the boy in question,
Is 8 years old and lives at No. 1431
Point .Breeze avenue. -While playing
with other boys on the dump at Twen
ty-sixth and Tasker streets he found a
bottle whose contents he mistook for
whisky. He raised it to his lips and
had drunk, as he says, several "fingers"
of the liquid before his . companions.
who saw a label "Poison" on the bot
tle, knocked it from his hands.
Edwin Immediately became sick. . It
was found that the bottle had contain
ed nitroglycerin, and Policeman Mi
chael Grugan, who had the boy In
charge grew nervous. He wanted to
summon the patrol to remove Edwin to
the hospital, but feared the conse
quences of the concussion which might
be caused by : walking a person who
had a high explosive concealed In his
body. He solved the quandary by tak
ing the youth in his arms and proceed
ing gingerly several blocks to where
he could call the patrol.
When the wagon came Grugan, who.
pale as a ghost, was holding the boy at
a safe distance from himself, yielded
up his supposed dangerous charge to
Patrol Sergeant McGee. - The latter
was not so fearful of an explosion, yet
he also employed circumspection in
handling the boy. r
At St Agnes' hospital the physicians
quickly brought Edwin out of danger.
The small quantity of nitroglycerin
which the bottle contained 'had become
considerably weakened by lying on the
dump, else the amount which the boy
swallowed, the physicians say, would
have killed him. A few hours after the
occurrence he had recovered with the
exception of some slight burns about
the lips. Philadelphia Press.
': Memories of Boyhood.
Recalllrg childhood's days docs not
often have such an unfortunate effect
as in tbis story printed by a Pennsyl
vania paper:
While walking along the track of the
Philadelphia & Reading railroad near
Lebanon, 'a farmer : began thinking
about his boyhood days, and what fun
it used to be.to place his tongue against
a piece of cold metaL '
Following up the thought, be knelt
by the track and placed his tongue
on one of the rails. The sensation was
delightful, but he had not enjoyed It
long before he heard a train coming,
and then, to his dismay, found that his
tongue was frozen to the rail. ;
There was nothing to do but to pull
it loose, and when he did that he
thought it was coming out by the roots.
A visit to the doctor reassured him on
that point and he eventually got welL
It will never be as good a tongue as it
was, but it is believed that the man's
common sense has gained as much as
his tongue has lost .
; Truthful Youth.
,-' "Ah!" sighed Perclval : Montague,
gazing into the limpid eyes of Milllcent
Pyefalce-'ah! you are more beautiful
than the day." -
With a happy smile the maiden sank
Into his arms.
- But if she had only thought of the
fact that, the day was one when the
temperature registered an even hun
dred, and the. humidity was along In
the nineties, she would have known
that .Perclval was not giving the truth
very much of a stretch. Baltimore
American. - .-
For Western Farmers.
The up-to-date farmer with a large
acreage finds it slow work to plow his
fields with the old single plows of the
past and so he utilizes the electric cur
rent and multiplies the number of plow
shares to suit himself. In the West
this Is practically a necessity, on ac
count of the large size of the fields and
the cost of labor and teams. Our illus
tration shows a convenient form of mo
tor plow which has been designed by
Conrad Melssner of Frederichsburg,
Germany. It consists of two electric
motors operating winding drums on sep
arate carriages, which may be placed
at any required distance apart, only
one motor being connected with the
main feed wire. To supply power to
ELECTBICALLT OPERATED FLOW.
the second motor a feed cable lying
parallel with the traction cable Is read
Justed at every trip of the plow to fol
low the latter down the field. The
mechanism Is so adjusted that when
once set In motion the apparatus prac
tically operates itself, moving the car
riages forward at the beginning of each
trip to bring the plowshares in posi
tion for the next row of furrows. The
plows are attached to a two-wheeled
truck, which Is pulled back and forth
across the field, moving forward at the
end of each set of furrows as long as
the power is turned on.
' Growing; Bye Profitably.
In sections of the country where
wheat was formerly an Important crop,
rye has largely taken its place. The
best method of growing rye is to seed
It with timothy In the fall, and follow
It with clover the next spring. This is
the plan used where rye is in the regu
lar rotation after com and oats. To
get the best results the seed should be
sown thinly on fairly good soil. The
time of sowing usually being early in
September, never later than the middle
of the month. If the soil is rich and in
good shape, one and one-half bushels
of seed per acre drilled in is sufficient
On land that is poor, a bushel and three
pecks is usually used in seeding. Rye
straw brings good prices in the market
and as the grain is less likely to be in
jured by insects than wheat and can
be grown on soil too poor for wheat it
can be used to advantage in feeding
for certain stock. It is not particularly
good for cows, as it seemingly injures
the quality of the butter. It Is excellent
food for swine, and to a moderate ex
tent for poultry. While it has no par
ticular value as a legume, rye is valu
able to turn under for green manuring.
Exchange.
The Movab'e Mansrer.
When stock is fed In the field, as it is
oftentimes convenient to do, a nam
ber of movable mangers will be found
very useful. A horse such as Is used
by carpenters Is constructed of light
wood and a light board eight by twelve
Inches wide nailed to the legs on each
side of the horse. This leaves suffi
cient space between the board and the
top bar of the horse for any animal to
get his head In and feed. There is no
need of having any bottom to this man
ger unless the feeding Is done in some
place where It Is wet Of course.
the feeding is done against a fence or
the side of a building or wall, it will
be necessary to attach the board on
that side of the horse. Indianapolis
News. - V..
'"-"".- Heavy Fertilizing. -
" While some of the experiment sta
tions have reported that in testing dif
ferent amounts of fertilizer per acre
for potatoes they have found the profit
able limit to be about 1,500 pounds,
there is a farmer on Long Island who
claims that it is profitable for him to
use 3,000 pounds per acre. He claims
that he was forced to It by the diffi
culty of getting enough of stable ma
nure and the high price of It He found
It would cost about the same for the
8,000 pounds of fertilizer as for the
manure he usually bought, and he de
cided to try one acre. Mow he uses
about twenty-five tons a year besides
X --
A MOVABLE MA5GER.
all the manure made on the farm. Ha
uses it on the potatoes, and then fol
lows them with wheat one year, grass
two years, corn one year. These all
without fertilizer excepting that put
on the potatoes. After five years rota
tion the land is ready for potatoes
again. Each year about four acres of
the potato ground Is sown to rye, and
the next year that is sown with tur
nips and carrots. His crops sold one
year were 4,500 bushels of potatoes.
4,000 bushels of turnips, 400 bushels
of wheat 200 bushels of rye. 1.800
bushels of corn, ten tons of carrots, ten
tons of rye straw, eighty tons of hay.
beside some tons of rye straw and sev
eral more of corn fodder. Upon a farm
out In a section where one would think
It necessary to grow principally market
garden crops, he Is growing upon com
mercial fertilizers alone such crops as
one might grow on a farm remote from
markets, or even from railroads, that
be need not sell until he Is ready to go
to market as even the potatoes can be
kept for weeks and others for months
If necessary, and he finds it successful
farming. Massachusetts Ploughman.
The Vatne of bandone.l Farms.
Every once in a while communica
tions come from farmers in the West
and South, who, for reasons of their
own, desire to let urn to the Eastern
States. They have read about the
abandoned farms In New England and
New York, and seem to think that if
they could obtain one of these farms at
ittle or no cost their future would be
assured. In many cases these aban
doned farms are simply land that Is
worn out or too stony, to be worked to
advantage with the modern form crops.
In nearly every case the vital objection
to these farms is their distance from
market The great majority of them
are located miles from a railroad or a
market which can only be reached
over very rough and little traveled
roads. Some of these farms are capa
ble of being made profitable, but the
expense of marketing the crops Is so
great that it is a question if it would
pay any one to take up one of these
places. Gradually, the Increase in the
number of trolley roads throughout the
Eastern States is bringing these farms
within easy access of markets, and as
soon as these roads become a reality.
the farms quickly disappear from the
market. Any farmer who is located
within reasonable distance of a good
market and who can reach It readily,
had best stay where be is. Of course,
if he is in a position to buy an im
proved farm better located than the
one he at present occupies, that Is a dif
ferent matter, but as for taking up one
of these abandoned farms, it would be
like going from the frying pan into the
fire. Indianapolis News.
The Red Foil Cow.
The Red Poll is coming and will fin
an important place with the farmers
-who keep a few cows, milk them and
BED POLL COW.
grow their calves. While of quite a
different type, yet the' Red Poll fills
very nearly the same place that the old-'
fashioned heavy milking Shorthorns
did twenty-five years ago. Breeders'
Gazette.
Filo and Ensilage.
People are fast learning that good
ensilage can only be secured In a first
class silo and that a silo made of poor,
material or from lumber that warps or
twists win always prove disappointing
to its owner, says a writer In National
Stockman. This is illustrated by -the
method of canning fruit- If the can bj.
sealed airtight the fruit can be pre-,
served all through the' winter. .' But If.
the rubber packing Is. poor or the top
la nnt aprpwpd nn -Heht nilmUtlno fha
air, -the contents "work" and are spoil
ed. The same thing holds true with a,
silo. Unless the walls are impervious,
to both air and moisture one must not
expect to keep this ensilage sweet The .-
cueap structures maue ul oiu ieuce: -boards
should not be called silos. Ves
sels of this kind have also led many
men to reject silage and probably ac
counts for the unjust and sweeping,
condemnation of it by milk condensa-'.
ries. There has never been a food up
on which all kinds of -stock thrive av
...1. t ,.1. .. 1 .
turns as Indian corn, cut and preserv--.
ed In a silo In the form of ensilage. As
Tmf 1 Ton rr eo "Pdoon nllna sr. a
delusion and a snare, while good ones
enable Indian corn to yield its great
est benefactions to man.'
Dairy (Jtensi's.
In dairy work there are three very
important things, brushes and plenty -of
clean white dish and wiping towels,
(not rags), scalding water and salsoda,.
says Rural New Yorker. The virtue
contained in a pinch of sal soda can-'
not be estimated.' It does not take
very long to run hems In. towels for;
dairy work. There is nothing better -than
flour and salt sacks. - They are -soft
and pliable; also easy to wash.'
Have several dishcloths. Don't ose;
one for all the dairy work one for
separator, another for the butter uten- '
bus and stilt another for milk palls. '
: Weak Eyes in Horses. 'Z
' Keep a dark shade over the eyes dur- -ing
the daylight bathe the eyes twice .
a day well in hot water and put a few
drops of the following lotion In the eyes S
brush: Four grains of sulphate of zinc.
tour grains ui uiuryuuie, tea grains or
cocaine and one ounce of water. - ..