T
1
SEMUWEEKL,Y.
SJllKSSiVi'i... (Consolidated FeD... 1899.
CORVALMS, BENTON COUNTY, OREGON, TUESDAY, DECEMBER 17, 1901.
VOIi. II. NO. 34.
CORVA
Ct A
"
. The t)oetor'$ f)ilemma
"By Hesba
CHAPTER XXIV.
I. Olivia Foster, take up the thread of
the story the woful, weary narrative of
riy wanderings after leaving my island
lriends.
Once more I found myself in London.
I had more aequaiatance with almost ev
ery great city on the Continent. Fortu
nately, Tardif had given me the address
of a boarding house, or rather a small
family hotel, where he had stayed two
or three times, and I drove there at once.
I went to several governess agencies,
which were advertising for teachers in
the daily papers. When a fortnight had
passed with no opening for me, I felt
it necessary to leave the boarding house
which had been my temporary home.
Wandering about the least fashionable
suburbs, where lolgings would cost least,
I found a bedroom in the third story of a
house in a tolerably respectable street.
In this feverish solitude one day drag
ged itself after another with awful mo
notony. As they passed' by, the only
change they brought was that the sultry
heat grew ever cooler, and the long days
shorter. Think what a dreary life for a
young girl! I was as fond of companion
ship, and needed love as much as any
girl. Was it strange that my thoughts
dwelt somewhat dangerously upon the
pleasant, peaceful days in Sark?
Now and thrn, when I ventured out
Into the strt i ts, a' panic would seize me,
a dread unutterably great, that I might
meet my husband amidst the crowd. 1
did not even know that he was in Lon
don: he had always spoken of it as a
place he detested. His habits made the
free, unconventional life upon the Con
tinent more agreeable to him. How he
was living now, what he was doing.
where he was, were so many enigmas to
me; and I did not care to run any risk
in finding out the answers to them. Twice
I passed the Bank of Australia, where
very probably I could have learned if
he was in the same city as myself; but I
dared not do it, and as soon as I knew
how to avoid that street, I never passed
along it.
I had been allowed to leave my address
with the clerk of a large general agency
in the city. Towards the close of Oc
tober I received a note from him, desir
ing me to call at the office at two o'clock
the following afternoon, without fail.
had a long time to wait. The office clock
pointed to half-past three before I caught
the clerk's eye, and saw him beckon me
np to the counter. I had thrown back
my veil, for here I was perfectly safe
from recognition. At the other end of
the counter stood a young man in con
sultation with a clerk. He looked ear
nestly at me, but I was sure he could
not know me.
"Miss Ellen Hartineau?" said the clerk.
That was my mother's name, and I had
adopted it for my own, feehug a3 if I
had some right to it.
"Yes," I answered.
"Would you object to go into a French
school as governess?" he inquired.
"Not in the least," I said eagerly.
"And pay a small premium?" he add
ed. "How much?" I asked, my spirits fall
ing again.
"A mere trifle," he said; "about ten
pounds or so for twelve months. You
would perfect yourself in French, yon
know; and you would gain a referee for
the future."
"I must think about it," I replied.
"Well, there is the address of a lady
who can give yon all the particulars," he
said; handing me a written paper.
I left the office heavy hearted. Ten
pounds would be more than the half of
the little store left to me. Yet, would it
not be wiser to secure a refuge and shel
ter for twelve months than run the risk
of not finding any other situation? I
walked slowly along the street towards
the busier thoroughfares, with my head
bent down and my mind busy, when sud
denly a heavy hand was laid npon my
arm, grasping it with crushing force, and
a harsh, thick voice shouted triumphant
ly in my ear:
"I've caught you at last!'"
It was like the bitterness of death, that
chill and terror sweeping over me. My
husband's hot breath was upon my cheek,
and his eyes were looking closely into
mine. But before I could speak his grasp
was torn away from me, and he was
sent whirling into the middle of the
road. I turned, almost in equal terror, to
ee-who had thrust himself between us.
It was a stranger whom I had noticed
In the agency office. But bis face was
now dark with passion, and as my hus
band staggered back again towards us,
his hand was ready to thrust him away
a second time.
"She's my wife," he stammered, trying
to get past the stranger to me. By this
time a knot of spectators had formed
about us, and a policeman had come up.
The stranger drew my arm through his,
and faced them defiantly.
"He's a drunken vagabond!" he said;
"he has just come out of those spirit
vaults. This young lady is no more' his
wife than she is mine, and I know no
more of her than that she has just come
away from Ridley's office, where she has
been looking after a situation. Good
heavens! cannot a lady walk through the
streets of London without being insult
ed by a drunken scoundrel like that?"
"Will yon give him in charge, sir?"
asked the policeman, while Richard Fos
ter was making vain efforts to speak co
herently, and explain his claim upon me.
I clung to the friendly arm that had come
to my aid, sick and almost speechless with
fear.
"Don't," I whispered; "oh! take me
away quickly."
He cleared a passage for us both with
a vigor and decision that there was no re
sisting. I glanced back for an instant,
and saw my husband struggling with the
policeman. He' looked utterly un.ike a
gay, prosperous, wealthy man, with
well-filled purse, such as he had used to
appear. He was shabby and poor enough
now for the policeman to be very hard
on him, and to prevent him from follow
ing- me. The stranger kept my han.1
firmly on his arm, and almost carried
me into Fleet street, where in a minute
Strctton
or two we were quite lost in the throng,
and I was safe from all pursuit.
'I do not know how to thank you," I
said, falteringly.
"You are trembling still!" he replied.
How lucky it was that I followed you
directly out of Ridley's! If I ever come
across that scoundrel again I shall know
him, you may be sure. My name is John
Senior. Perhaps you have beard of my
father. Dr. Senior of Brook street?
"No," replied, "I know nobody in Lon
don."
'That s bad," he said. "I wish I was
Jane Senior instead of John Senior; I do
indeed. Do you feel better now, Miss
Martineau .'
"How do you know my name?" I ask
ed.
"The clerk at Ridley's called you Miss
Ellen Martineau," he answered. "My
hearing is very good, and I was not deep
ly engrossed in my business. I heard and
saw a good deal whilst I was there."
He called an empty cab that was pass
ing by. We shook hands warmly. There
was no time for loitering; so I told him
the name of the suburb where 1 was
living, and he repeated it to the cabman,
"All right," he said, speaking through
the window, "the fare is paid and I've
taken cabby's number. If he tries to
cheat you, let me know; Dr. John Senior,
Brook street. I hope that situation will
be a good one, and very pleasant. Good
by." "Good-by," I cried, leaning forward and
looking at his face till the crowd came
between ns, and I lost sight of it.
I felt safer when the cabman set me
down at the house where I lodged, and
I ran upstairs to my little room. I kin-
died the fire. Then I sat down on my
box before it, thinking. I
Yes; 1 must leave London.. I must take
this situation, the only one open to me,
in a school in France. I should at least .
be assured of a home for twelve months; j
and, as the clerk had said, I should per
fect myself in French and gain a ref
eree. I should be earning a character in
fact. The sooner I fled from London
again the better, now that I knew my
husband was somewhere in it. I unfold
ed the paper on which was written the
name of the lady to whom I was to ap
ply. ' Mrs. Wilkinson, 19 Bellringer
street. I ran down to the sitting room,
to ask my landlady where it was, and
told her, in my new hopefulness, that I
had heard of a situation in France. Bell-
ringer street was less than a mile away.
I could be there before seven o'clock, not
too late perhaps for Mrs. Wilkinson to
give me an interview.
No. 19 was not difficult to find, and I
pulled the bell handle with a gentle and
quiet pull. A slight, thin child in rusty
mourning opened it, with the chain
across, and asked in a timid voice who
I was.
: "Does Mrs. Wilkinson live here?." I
"Yes," said the child.
"Who is there?" I heard a voice call
ing shrilly from within.
"I am come about a school In France,"
1 said to the child.
"Oh, I'll let you in," she answered eag
erly; "she will see you about that, I'm
sure. I'm to go with you, if you go."
She let down the chain, and opened the
door. There was a dim light burning
in the hall, which looked shabby and
poverty stricken. I had only time to take
a vague general impression, before the
little girl conducted me to a room on the
ground floor.
"I'm to go if you go," she said again;
"nd, oh! I do so hope you will agree to
go."
"I think I shall," I answered.
"I daren't be sure," she replied, sod
ding her head with an air of sagacity;
"Zhere have been four or five governesses
here, and none of them would go. You'd
have to take me with you; and,' oh! it is
such a lovely, beautiful place. See! here
i a picture of it."
She ran eagerly to a . side table, on
which lay a book or two, one of which
she opened, and reached out a photo
graph, which had been laid there for se
curity. It was clear, sharply defined. At
the left hand stood a handsome house,
with windows covered with lace . cur
tains, and provided with outer Venetian
shutters. In the center stood a large
square garden, with fountains, and ar
bors and statues; and behind this stood
a long building of two stories, and a steep
roof with dormer windows, every case
ment of which was provided, like the
house in the front, with rich lace cur
tains and Venetian shutters. The whole
place was clearly in good order and good
taste, and looked like a very pleasant
home.
"Isn't it a lovely place?" asked the
child beside me, with a deep sigh of longing.
"SENT WHIRLING INTO THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD."
"Yes," I said; "I should like to go
I had had time to make all these ob
servations before the owner of the for
eign voice, which I had heard at the
door, came in. At the first glance I
knew her to be a Frenchwoman. Her
black eyes were steady and cold, and
her general expression one of watchful
ness. ,
"I have not the honor of knowing you,"
she said politely.
"I come from Ridley's Agency office,"
I answered, "about a situation as Eng
lish teacher in a school in France."
"It is a great chance," she said, "my
friend, Madame Perrier, is very 'good,
very amiable for her teachers. She is
like a sister for them. The terms are
very high, very high for France; but
there is absolutely every comfort. I sup
pose you could introduce a few English
pusiils."
"No," I answered, "I am afraid I could
not. I am sure I could not."
. "That of course must be considered
in the premium," she continued; "if you
could have introduced, say, six pupils,
the premium would be low. I do not
think my friend would take one penny
less than twenty pounds for the first year,
and ten for the second."
The tears started to my eyes. I had
felt so sure of going if I would pay ten
pounds, that I was quite unprepared for
this disappoiatment. There was still my
diamond ring left; but how to dispose of
it, for anything like its value, I did not
know.
"What were you prepared to give?"
asked Mrs. Wilkinson, whilst I hesitat
ed. "The clerk at Ridley's office told me
the premium would be ten pounds," I an
swered; "I do not see how I can give
more." "
"Well," she said, after musing a little,
"it is time this child went. She has been
here "a month, waitings for somebody to
take her down to Noireau. I will agree
with you, and will explain to Madame
Perrier. How soon could you go?"
"I should like to go to-morrow," I re
plied, feeling that the sooner I quitted
London the better. Mrs. Wilkinson's
steady eyes fastened upon me again with
sharp curiosity."
"Have you references, miss?" she ask
ed. No, I faltered, my hopes sinking
again before this old difficulty.
"It will be necessary, then," she said,
"for you to give the money to me, and
I will forward it to Madame Perrier.
Pardon, miss, but you perceive I could
not send a teacher to them unless I knew
that she could pay the money down."
I did not waver any longer. The pros
pect seemed too promising for me to lose
it by any irresolution. I drew out my
purse, and laid down two out of the three
five-pound notes left me. She gave me a
formal receipt in the names of Emile and
Louise Perrier, and her sober face wore
an expression of satisfaction.
"There! it is done," she said. "You
will take lessons, any lessons you please,
from tne professors who attend the
school. It is a grand chance, miss, a
grand chance. Let ns say you go the day
after to-morrow; the child will be quite
ready. She is going for four years to
that splendid place, a place for ladies of
the highest degree."
At that moment an imperious kno;?k
sounded upon the outer door, and the lit
tle girl ran to answer it, leaving the door
of our room open. A voice which I knew
well, a voice which made my heart stand
still and my veins curdle, spoke in sharp,
loud tones in the hall.
"Is Mr. Foster come home yet?" were
the words the terrible voice uttered, quite
close to me it seemed; so close that I
shrank back shivering, as if every sylla
ble struck a separate blow. All my
senses were awake; I could hear every
sound in the hall, each step that came
nearer and nearer. Was she about to
enter the room where I was sitting?
She stood still for half a minute as if
uncertain what to do.
"He is upstairs," said the child's
voice. "He told me he was ill when I
opened the door for him." -
"Where is Mrs. Wilkinson?" she ask
ed. "She is here," said the child, "but
there's a lady with her."
Then the woman's footsteps went on
up the staircase. I listened to them
climbing up one step after another, my
brain throbbing with each sound, and I
heard a door opened and closed. Mrs.
Wilkinson had gone to the door, and
looked out into the hall, as if expecting
other questions to be asked. She had
not seen my panic of despair. I must
get away before I lost the use of my
senses, for I felt giddy and faint.
v (To be continued.)
American Supremacy.
: First . London Burglar Eh, Jimmy,
wot you doin' around here? W'y ain't
you at work.
Second Burglar Aw, I'm all right.
I'm waltin'. ' .
"Waitln' for what?" -
"For my new Yankee tools to arrive."
Cleveland Plain Dealer.
Lowest of Known Tides.
The lowest tides, where any exist at
all, are at Panama, where two feet is
the avexere rise and falL
ChitdreriS
gnier
The New Sister.
"Look carefully," said the kind nurse,
turning down a corner. of the flannel
blanket. "Don't touch her, dears, but
just look."
The children stood on tiptoe, and
peeped into the tiny - red - face...- They
were frightened at first, the baby -was
so very small; but Johnny took courage
in a moment.
. "Hasn't she got any eyes?" he asked.
'.'Or is she like kittens?" - . .:
"Yes, she has eyes, and very bright
ones, but she is fast asleep now."
"Look at her little hands!" whisper
ed Lily. "Aren't they lovely? Oh, I
do wish I could give her a hug!"
"Not yet!" said nurse. "She is too ten
der to be hugged. But mamma sends
word that you may give her something
a name. She wants you and Johnny
to choose the baby's name, only It must
not be either Jemima, Keziah, : or
Keren-Happuch."
Then nurse went back into mamma's
room, and left Johnny and Lily staring
at each other, too proud and happy to
speak at first.' - - -
"Let's sit right down on the floor and
think!" said John. So down they sat.
"I think Claribel is a lovely name,"
said Lily, after a pause. "Don't you?"
"No," replied Johnny. "It's too
girly!"
"But baby is a girl."
"I don't care! She needn't have such
a very girly name. How do you like
Ellen?"
"O, Johnny! Why, everybody's named
Ellen! We don't want her to be just
like everybody! Now Seraphlna is not
common."
"I should hope not. I should need a
mouth a yard wide to say it. What do
you think of Bessie?"
"Oh, Bessie is very well, only well,
I should be always thinking of Bessie
Jones, and you know she isn't very
nice. I'll tell you what, Johnny! Sup
pose we call her Vesta Geneva, after
that girl papa told us about yesterday!"
"Lily, you are a perfect silly! Why, I
wouldn't be seen with a sister called
that! I think Polly is a nice, jolly
kind of a name."
"Well, I don't!"
"Well," said nurse, coming in again,
"what is the name to be, dears? Mam
ma is anxious to know."
Two heads hung very low, and two
pairs of eyes sought the floor and
stayed there. "Shall I tell you," the
good nurse went on, taking no notice,
"what I thought would be a very good
name for baby?"
"Oh, yes, yes, do tell us, 'cause we
can't get the right one!"
"Well, I thought your mother's name,
Mary, would be the very best name in
the world. What do you think?"
"Why, of course it would! We never
thought of that! Oh, thank you, nurse!"
cried both voices, joyously. "Dear
nurse! will you tell mamma, please?"
Nurse nodded and went away smil
ing, and Lily and John looked sheepish
ly at each othert .
"I I will play with you, if you like,
Johnny, dear."
"All right, Lil! Come along!"
Youth's Companion.
Winter Fishini-.
In Hungary they fish in the winter as
well as in the summer. The fisherman
cuts holes in the ice, puts up little
frames, to which his fish lines are fas-
tened, builds a hay stack in the center
to sit upon and waits for the fish to
catch themselves when a little bell that
Is fixed on each frame rings.
The Firm of Grin and Barrett.
No financial throe volcanic
Ever yet was known to scare it;
Never yet was any panic
Scared the firm of Grin and Barrett.
From the flurry and the fluster,
From the ruin and the crashes,
They arise in brighter luster,
Like the phoenix from his ashes.
When the banks and corporations
Quake with fear, they do not share It;
Smiling through all perturbations
Goes the firm of Grin and Barrett.
Grin and Barrett,
Who can scare it?
Scare the firm of Grin and Barrett?
When the tide-sweep of reverses
Smites them, firm they stand and dare
it, Without wailings, tears or curses,
. This stout firm of Grin and Barrett,
Even should their house go under -
In the flood and inundation,
Calm they stand amid the thunder
Without noise or demonstration.
And, when sackcloth is the fashion.
With a patient smile they wear it, :
Without petulance or passion,
This old firm of Grin and Barrett. -
. Grin and Barrett,
; Who can scare it? - -
Scare the firm of Grin and Barrett? -
When the other firms show dizziness,
Here's a house that does not share It.
Wouldn't you like to join the business,
Join the firm of Grin and Barrett?
Give your strength that does not mur
mur, And your nerve that does not falter.
COLD WEATHER SPORT.
And you've joined a house that's finuet
Than the old rock of Gibraltar.
They have won a good prosperity;
Why not join the firm and share it?
Step, young fellow, with celerity; ,
Join the nrm of Urm and Barrett.
Grin and Barrett,
Who can scare it?
Scare the firm of Grin and Barrett?
Christian Endeavor World. - -
l'amma'a Hair Fhampao,
The maid was shampooing little Doro-'
thy's hair.
"Dorothy, where does your mamma
get her hair shampooed?"
"Generally at home."
"And what does. she do when she
doesn't have It shampooed at home?"
.ISM. t "J- l i ..
ju, sue senus 11 to ine Cleaner s.
An bsdient Baby.
; Kathryn, aged 2. marched up to her
3-months-old sister and, pointing her
finger toward the window, said: "Baby,
look at that."
Naturally the baby's eyes followed
Kathryn's hand and Kathryn looked
satisfied as she said: "Baby min' me
all wight."
Lo -ise r nd the Lightning.
Louise was out driving with her fa
ther when a thunderstorm came up and
at the first flash of lightning- she ex
claimed: "Oh, papa, look at the sky
winking!" ,
TommT'i Original Idea.
Sunday School . Teacher What was
the song of the three children while
they were in the fiery furnace? Tommy
Smart I 'spose, mum, it was, "A Hot
Time In the Old Town To-night."
FIDDLER FOR "DE3IL'S DIP."
That Was Sol Hogan'a Occupation He
"-haaterize-l" a Bad ' oy.
"What does I do fer er libbin, Jedge
Briles?" said Sol Hogan, an aged negro
who was arraigned for beating a small
boy. "Ise de fiddler fer soshoul niggers
down in Debbil's Dip. I kin yank more
moosick outer fiddle den enny udder
nigger in Georgy. Ef I jest had mer
fiddle an' mer bow up h'ar wid me now,
I mout gib yer er chune, Jedge Briles."
"Yes, that all right about your play
ing the fiddle and yanking music out
with your bow, but what about using
the bow on a boy's head instead of on
your fiddle?" asked the recorder.
"Jest bin chasterizin dat bad boy
er leetle, Jedge Briles," stated the old
fiddler. "Dat boy lowed dat I war not
no Christun ef I played on de fiddle.
He sed dat his pa sed dat enny pusson
whut played on er fiddle war gwtne
straight fer hell wid bof his boots on.
He sed dat his pa sed dat er fiddle war
made by de debbil ter kitch niggers
wid. Dhen I lit Inter him wid de bow
an' played er chune on de top of his
head."
Old Sol chuckled as he wound up his
speech, says the Atlanta Constitution,
but every note of the chuckle died away
in an instant when he heard the re
corder say:
'Ten and costs."
"Is yer meanin' dat Ise got ter pay
dat munny jest fer tappin' dat sassy
nigger on de head?" the old man asked
aghast
"That's what I mean," the recorder
told him. "I've been trying to get in
something about a court and a beau,
but I haven't time just now. You
musn't have too many strings to your
bow, Sol. j Keep' your bow yanking on
your fiddle and don't use it for a drum
stick. If you can't pay the $10 you
will have to go to the stockade for
three weeks, and your fiddle fine will
then be your cell-owe."
Worry as a Success Killer.
Perhaps there is nothing else so ut
terterly foolish and unprofitable as a
habit of worrying. It saps the ner
vous energy, and robs us of the
strength and vitality necessary for the
real work of life.. It .makes existence
a burden and weariness, instead of a
perpetual joy and blessing, as it should
be. Poise.and serenity are necessary
to the complete development of charac
ter and true success. The man who
worries is never self -centered, never
perfectly balanced, never at his best;
for every moment of mental anxiety
takes away vitality and push, and
robs him of manhood and power.
Worrying Indicates a lack of confi
dence in our strength; it shows that we
are unbalanced, that we do not lay
hold, of the universal energy which
leaves no doubt, no uncertainty. The
man who does not worry, who believes
in himself, touches the wires of in
finite power. Never doubting, never
hesitating, he is constantly reinforced
from the Omnipotence that creates
planets and suns. The habit of worry
is largely a physical infirmity; it is an
evidence of lack of harmony in the
mental system. The well-poised soul,
the self-centered man, neiaer wabbles
or hesitates. The infinite balance
wheel preserves him from all shocks,
and all accident . or .uncertainty.
Enough vital energy has been wasted
in useless worry to run all the affairs
of the world. Success. -
A Mean Fellrw.
First Broker Of all the mean, de
spicable, dishonorable fellows, I think
Quotem is the worst.
Second Broker You don't say! What
has he done?
First Broker He made a big pile In
that last stock flurry, and now he's go
ing to retire from business- and live
on the money, instead of giving his old
true and tried friends a fair chance to
get it away from him. New. York
Weekly. ,
Overlooked.
"I was a little disappointed when I
looked through that Yale list of candi
dates for honors." -
"Why so?"-
"I couldn't find Mr. Dooley's name."
Cleveland Plain Dealer.
When an optimist breaks his leg ho
rejoices that it isn't his neck.
Abnae of the Check Rein.
...The accompanying illustrations are
taken from leaflet issued by the Hu
mane Education Committee at Provi
dence, R. I. This
committee is call
ing attention to
some of the ays
In which our do
mestic animals are
abused. A good
deal of this abuse
TOBTURE.
is thoughtless that
Is, the owner or driver does not desire
to torture the animal. He either does
not know any better, or else does what
others about him have been doing for
years. There are many ways in which
the tight, overdrawn check-rein annoys
or Injures the horse. The picture show
ing the wrong way of "checking" well
illustrates the trouble. In fact, the pic
tures are a whole story In themselves.
The leaflet mentioned makes a strong
argument against the tight check, quot
ing some of the most noted breeders,
drivers and horsemen against it. Here
are two samples the first from Wm.
Pritchard, president of the Royal Vet
erinary College, London:
The continued pressure of the bit of
the bearing-rein (check-rein) deadens
the surrounding portion of the mouth
with which it is in
contact, thus pro
ducing a partially in
sensible condition of
it a condition most
ill-suited to receive
a sudden impression,
as a check from the
driver, in the event
COMFORT.
of the horse stumbling from any cause;
I would, therefore, say that, Instead of
preventing horses from falling, the
bearing-rein is calculated to render
falling more frequent Other not un
common results of the use of this in
strument of torture are distortion pf
the windpipe to such a degree as to
Impede the respiration ever afterward,
excoriation of the mouth and lips,
paralysis of the muscles of the face,
etc. Another writer says: "Tying one
part of an animal's body to another
does not necessarily keep him on his
feet It is the pull from the arm of the
driver that makes the horse regain him
self when he stumbles. One might as
well say that tying a man's head back
to a belt at his waist would prevent
him from falling If he stumbled in a
race."
To Kill Insects.
It may not be generally known that
skim milk or buttermilk readily mixes
with kerosene, forming an emulsion
which destroys insects without danger
or injury .to animals or plants on which
they might be that might result on
the use of pure oil and water, says the
American Cultivator. We first learned
of this from using this mixture for the
scale insect, or mite, which causes
scaly legs on fowls. We found that one
or two dippings or washings with it
would cure the worst case of scaly leg
and leave the skin as' smooth as when
first hatched. We never had occasion
to try it for lousy animals, for we nev
er had one, but we do not hesitate to
recommend it, and we have lately seen
its use advised for ticks on sheep,
using a gill of kerosene to one gallon
of milk. We did not make our mixture
so strong of kerosene as that but per
haps the larger tick may need a strong
er application than an insect so small
as to be scarcely visible to the naked
eye. ,
Abont Selling Apples.
If apples are sold to commission men
or fruit dealers it Is best to consult
them as to the time and manner of
picking, grading and packing, says
Farmers' Tribune. They are familiar
with the wants of the trade and know
best how to meet its demands. A large,
crop of good winter apples can some
times be disposed of to the best advan
tage by selling In the orchard for a
lump sum. This obviates the work and
worry of marketing, and holding such
a perishable crop for higher prices is
risky business. It is not apt to pay
unless one is a good judge of the mar
ket and the, fruit is well stored. Where
the apples are sold on the trees one
should be able to correctly estimate the
quantity of apples on a tree and know
the highest price which they will com
mand on the market But however the
crop is sold, it is well for the orchard
ist to ha the picking under bis con
trol, as trew are often injured, limbs
broken, etc.
It flnenza in Horaea.
Stimulants and tonics should be
given from the start in cases of Influ
enza. Give one dram dose of ace'tani
lid and one ounce of alcohol in water
every three, four or six hours, accord
ing to height of fever, and when fever
drops to 102 degrees or less give a dram
of quinine three times daily dissolved
in two. drams of tincture of Iron, then
mixed with a pint of thin oatmeal
gruel. In the feed mix from the start
from twenty to thirty grains of nux
vomica -irrespective of the other medi
cines and increase thedose gradually
if the animal is weak and staggers. Af
fected animals should be kept in com
fortable stalls or box stalls where they
can have good care and feeding.
. Two Hundred En Hena.
How can be produced hens that will
lay 200 eggs per annum? By scientific
breeding, as for a good butter cow or a
cow milker, or for a good trotter or
bigb jumping horse. Experiments have
been made to increase the number of
rows of corn on the cob with success.
The same method is applicable to poul
try breeding. We will start with a hen
that lays 120 eggs. Some of her chicks
will lay 130 per year. From these we
will pick out layers and so on until 200
or better are the result At the same
time it is just as essential to breed out
of males from prolific layers, as It is the
females; in fact it is more so. If we
look after the breeding of the females
only we will introduce on the male side
blood Which is lacking in proficiency,
and thus check every attempt in prog
ress. It is just as essential that the
male should be from the hen which lays
175 eggs and from a male that was bred
from a hen that laid 150 eggs, as It Is
that the ben should be from one that
laid 1T5 eggs and whose mother laid
150 eggs Poultry Herald.
Fmr Beet Culture. ;
We have not been an advocate of
sugar-beet growing because we have
believed that a good farmer can grow
other crops on good land with less la
bor that will bring more money, but
we have not tried to Injure the busi
ness, as a German paper would do
when It says, "Plow In the spring, re
gardless of mud and water. Stop every
drain that may be carrying the water
away from the beet fields. Fall plow
ing is to retain the moisture. Spring
plowing must aim to secure every bit
of moisture for the beet field." We
have grown some sugar beets, not for
the factory, but for stock feeding, and
we would say to any one growing for
either purpose do not plow or sow the
seed until the ground is dry and firm.
To plow "regardless of mud and water"
will insure a small crop of beets that
are scarcely worth feeding to the cow
or pigs. - Fall plowing should be done
to relieve the land of moisture and not
to retain it, and thus it should be, when
it is possible, up and down the side
hills instead of around them, that the
water may be drained off by the bot
tom of the furrow, below the earth that
is turned over. As we never visited
Germany we will not say the advice is
not good there, but we know of no part
of the United States where we think it
would be good. But we will give a
little bit of what we think is better
advice. If you grow sugar beets do
not sell them at $4 or $5 a ton, when
you have cattle or hogs to feed them to,
unless you can get back all the pomace
made from them. New England Home
stead. .Rations far Milch C0W9.
It is generally understood that the
average cow ought to have between
two and three pounds of digestible
protein daily as a part of the ration.
One often finds one or more cows in a
herd that will do well on a ration con
taining less than two pounds of pro
tein, and on the other hand some of the
herd need considerable more protein.
Wheat bran of good quality is gener
ally conceded to be an ideal product
to feed with corn and other grains, al
though we may obtain much more pro
tein and considerable mineral matter
from feeding cotton-seed meal, but
this may not be fed in large quanti
ties. Gluten meal supplies protein in
other sections, while in still other sec
tions dependence for protein is placed
almost wholly on cowpea hay and al
falfa, with small feeds of cotton-seed
meal, the hay of the cowpeas and al
falfa being ground. The essential
thing is to obtain the best quality of
protein for one's herd at the smallest
possible expense. Exchange.
Testine feed.
The result of tests made by compe
tent men with samples of seeds sent
to the Buffalo Exposition proves two
things: First, the necessity for care on
the part of farmers in buying seeds
only from reputable seedsmen, and,
second, the desirability of testing all
seeds during the winter, that the loss
of both seed and crop may be avoided.
In the tests referred to the percentage
of good seed was very low In the ma
jority of cases. With some samples
the good seed was found to be only
about 20 per cent of the whole. In one
test of orchard grass sold at $5 per
hundred pounds, the good seed was
only 16.5 per cent of the whole, mak
ing the real cost of the good seed
$38.40 per hundred pounds. It is true
the original price of $5 per hundred
pounds is low, but the result ought to
have been better even then.
Wash ine anil Workinsr Batter.
After drawing off the buttermilk
wash twice or until the wash water
runs off clear. Then work in salt to suit
the taste of your trade and set away
for three or four hours, then rework and
pack or stamp. The interval between
salting and stamping allows the salt
thoroughly to permeate the whole
mass, and the second working also in
sures a uniform mixing of the salt as
well as working out any excess of
water. Never work butter when It is
warm enough to be salvy. There are
two watchwords for the buttermaker.
They are cleanliness and uniformity,
and are worth remembering if you are
looking for trade and reputation.
Improvement in Hoj?a.
The hog has been improved in the
last twenty years to such an extent
that be is able to mature earlier and
produce a larger amount of grain and
growth from the same quantity of food
The improved pig shows the great feed
ing capabilities and earlier maturing
qualities that have been bred Into him.
No time is lost Pigs can be marketed
as quickly as a crop of grain. Kansas
Farmer.
Tree Protectors.
Tree guards and other protectors are
now in order. A strip of wire fly
screening Is about the best thing we
know of, and It will remain on the trees
for several years. Exchange,
-a-
'