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- '