Corvallis gazette., January 21, 1902, Image 1

31
QRVA
SEMI-WEEKLY.
UXIOX Estab. July. 1S7.
GAZETTE Katab. Dee.. 16
Consolidated Feb., 1899.
CORVAULIS, BENTON COUNTY, OEEGON, TUESDAY, JANTJABY; 21, 1902.
VOL. IX. NO. 39.
GAZETTE
i 1 Jhz Doetor'J fjilemma 1 1
By Hesba
4- i f 4 4 ! 4 1 1 -l I I I 1 1 1 1 1 1 I I
CHAPTER XXVIII. ContinneU
"My daughter," he said, "I bade yon
leave even your duty in my keeping. Now
I summon you to fulfill it. Your duty
lies yonder, by your husband's side in
his agony of death."
"1 will go," I whispered, my lips scarce
ly moving to pronounce the words, so stiff
and cold they felt.
"Good!" he said, "you have chosen .the
better part. Come! The good God will
protect you."
He drew my hand through his arm
and led me to the low doorway.
The inner room, as I entered, was very
dark with the overhanging eaves, and my
eyes, contracted by the trong sunlight,
could discern but little in the gloom. Tar
dif was kneeling beside a low bed, bath
ing my husband's forehead. He made
way for me, and I felt him touch my
hand with his lips as I took his place.
Richard's face, sunken, haggard, dying,
with filmy eyes, dawned gradually out
of the dim twilight, line after line, until
it lay sharp and distinct under my gaze.
The poor, miserable face! the restless,
dreary, dying eyes!
"Where is Olivia?" he muttered, in a
hoarse and labored voice.
"I am here, Richard," I answered, fall
ing on my knees where Tardif had been
kneeling, and fitting my hand in his;
"look at me. I'am Olivia."
"You are mine, you know," he said, his
fingers closing round my wrist with a
grasp as weak as a very young child's;
"she is my wife. Monsieur le Cure."
"Yes," I sobbed, "I am your wife,
Richard."
"Do they hear it?" he asked, in a whis
per. "We hear It," answered Tardif.
I CAME UPON A GRAVE."
A strange, spasmodic smile flitted
across his ghastly face, a look of triumph
and success. His fingers tightened over
my hand, and I left it passively in their
clasn.
"Mine!" he murmured.
"Olivia," he said, after a long pause,
and in a stronger voice, "you always
spoke the truth to me. This priest and
his follower have been tryiug to fngnten
me into repentance, as if I were an old
woman. They say I am near dying. Tell
me. is it true?"
"Richard," I said, "it is true."
His lips closed after a cry, and seemed
as if they would never open again. He
shut his eyes weariedly. Feebly and fit
fully came his gasps for breath, and he
moaned at times. But still his fingers
held me fast, though the slightest effort
of mine would have set me free. I left
my hand in his cold grasp, and spoke to
him whenever he moaned.
There was long silence. I could hear
the chirping of the sparrows in the
1 hatched roof. Monsieur Laurentie and
Tardif stood at the foot of the bed, look
ins down upon us both, but I only saw
their shadows falling across us. My eyes
were fastened upon the face 1 should
soon see no more. The little light there
was seemed to be fading away from it,
leaving it all dark and blank.
-Olivia'." he cried, once again, in a
tone of mingled anger and entreaty.
"I am hero," I answered, laying my
other hand upon his, which was at last
relaxing its hold and falling away help
lessly. But where was he? Where was
the voice which half a minute ago called
Olivia? Where was the life gone that
had grasped my hand? He had not heard
my answer, or felt my touch upon his
cold fingers.
Tardif lifted me gently from my place
beside him, and carried me away Into the
open air, under the overshadowing eaves.
CHAPTER XXIX.
The unbroken monotony of Ville-en-bois
closed over me again. A week has
glided by a full week. I am seated at
the window of the salon, gasping in a
breath of fresh air such a cool, balmy
breeze as blows over the summer sea
to the cliffs of Sark. Monsieur Lauren
tie. under the shelter of a huge red um
brella, is choosing the ripest cluster of
grapes for our supper this evening. All
the street is as still as at midnight. Sud
denly there breaks upon us the harsh,
metal'de clans of well shod horse hoofs
upon the stony roadway the cracking
of a postillion's whip the clatter of an
approaching carriage.
Pierre, who has been basking Idly un
der the window, jumps to his feet, shout
ing. "It is Monsieur the Bishop!" Min
ima claps her hands and cries, "The
Prince. Aunt Nelly, the Prince!"
Monsieur Laurentie walks slowly down
to the gate, his cotton umbrella spread
over him like a giaut fungus. It is cer
tainly not the Prince; for an elderly,
white-haired man, older than Monsieur
Laurentie, but with a more imposing and
stately presence, steps out of the car
riage, and they salute one another with
;
I.
St re tt on t
I 1 1 1 ! t I 1 1 I 1 t I I I I 1 1'
great ceremony. They entered the house
and came directly to the salon. I was
making my escape by another door, when
Monsieur Lanrentie called to me.
"Behold a friend for yon. madame," he
said, "a friend from England. Monsieur.
this is my beloved English child."
Yon do not know who I am, my
dear?" The English voice and words
went straight to my heart.
"No," I answered, "but yon are come
to me from Dr. Martin Dobree.
"Very true," he said, "I am his friend's
father Dr. John Senior's father. Martin
has sent me to you. He wished Miss Jo
hanna Carey to accompany me, but we
were afraid of the fever for her. I am
an old physician, and feel .at home with
diseases and contagion. But we cannot
allow you to remain in this unhealthy vil
lage; that is out of the question. I am
come to carry you away, in spite of this
old cure."
Monsieur Laurentie was listening eag-
erly, and watching Dr. Senior's lips, as if
he could catch the meaning of his words
by sight, if not by hearing.
"But where am I to go?" I asked. "1
have no money, and cannot get any until
I have written to Melbouprne, and have
an answer. I have no means of proving
who I am."
"Leave all that to us, my dear girl,"
answered Dr. Senior, cordially. "I have
already spoken of your affairs to an old
friend of mine, who is an excellent law
yer. I am come to offer myself to you
in place of your guardians on the other
side of the world."
I moved a little nearer to Monsieur
Laurentie, and put my hand through his
arm. He folded his own thin, brown
hand over it caressingly, and looked down
at me, with something like tears glisten
ing in his eyes.
"Is it all settled?" he asked, "is mon
sieur come to rob me of my English
daughter? She will go away now to her
own island, and forget Ville-en-bois and
her poor old French father!"
"Never! never!" I answered vehement
ly, "I shall not forget you as long as 1
live. Besides, I mean to come back very
often; every year if I can. I almost wish
1 could stay here altogether; but you
know that is impossible, monsieur. Is it
not quite impossible?"
"Quite impossible!" he repeated, some
what sadly, "madame is too rich now;
she will have many good friends."
"Not one better than you," I said, "not
one more dear than you. Yes, I am rich;
and I have been planning something to do
for Ville-en-bois. Would you like the
church enlarged and beautified. Monsieur
le Cure?"
"It is large enough and fine enough al
ready," he answered.
"Shall I put some painted windows and
marble images into it?" I asked.
"No, no, madame," he replied, "let it
remain as it is during my short lifetime."
"I thought so," I said, "but I believe
I have discovered what Monsieur le Cure
would approve. It is truly English.
There is no sentiment, no romance about
it. Cannot you guess what it is, my wise
and learned monsieur?"
"No, no, madame," he answered, smil
ing in spite of his sadness.
"Listen, dear monsieur," I continued;
"if this village is unhealthy for me, it is
unhealthy for you and your people. Dr.
Martin told Tardif there would always be
fever here, as long as there are no drains
and no pure water. Very well; now I am
rich I shall have it drained, precisely like
the best English towns: and there shall
be a fountain in the middle of the village,
where all the people can go to draw good
water. I shall come back next year to
see how it has been done. There is my
secret plan for Ville-en-bois."
The next morning I took a last solitary
walk till I came upon a grave. It was
my farewell to the wrecked romance of
my married life. Monsieur Laurentie ac
companied us on our journey, as far as
the cross at the entrance to the valley,
lie parted with us there; and when 1
stood up in the carriage to look back
once more at him, I saw his black-robed
figure kneeling on the white steps of the
Calvary, and the sun shining upon his
silvery head.
For the third time I landed in England.
When I set foot upon its shores first 1
was worse than friendless, with foes of
my own household surrounding me; the
second time I was utterly alone, in daily
terror, in poverty, with a dreary lifelong
future stretching before me. Now every
want of mine was anticipated, every step
directed, as if I were a child again, and
my father himself was caring for me.
How many friends, good and tried and
true, could I count! All the rough path
were made smooth for nif.
I soon learned to laugh at the dismay
which had filled me upon my entrance
into my new sphere. It wonld hare bee
difficult to resist the cordiality with which
I was adopted into the household. Dr.
Senior treated me as his bCnghter; Dr.
John was as much at home with me at
if I had been his sister. Minima, too, be
came perfectly reconciled to her new po
sition.
I saw little of Martin. He had been
afraid I should feel myself bound to him
and the very fact that he had once told
me he loved me had made it more diffi
cult to him to say so a second time. He
would not have any love from me as a
duty. If I did not love hn Xully, with
my whole heart, choosing him after
knowing others with whom I could com
pare him, he would not receive any lesser
gift from me.
"What will you do, Olivia T asked Dr.
John one day.
"What can I do?" I said.
"Go to him," he nrged; "he is alone.
I saw him a moment ago, looking out
at us from the drawing room window.
God bless himl Olivia, my dear girl, go
to him.
"Oh, Jack!" Iried, "I cannot."
"I don't see why you cannot," he an
swered gaily. "You are trembling, and
your face goes from white to red, and
then white again; but you have not lost
the use of your limbs, or your tongue. If
you take my arm, it will not be very diffi
cult to cross the lawn. Come; he is the
nest fellow living,' and worth walking a
dozen yards for."
I believe I should have run away, but 1
heard Minima's voice behind me, calling
shrilly to Dr. John, and I could not bear
to face him again. Taking my courage
in both hands, I stepped quickly across
the floor, for if I had hesitated longer
my heart would have failed me. Scarcely
a moment had passed since Jack left me,
and Martin had not turned his head, yet
it seemed an age.
"Martin," I whispered, as I stood close
behind him, "how could you be so foolish
as to send Dr. John to me?
We were married as soon as the season
was over, when Martin's fashionable pa
tients were all going away from town.
Ours was a very quiet wedding, for I had
no friends on my side, and Martin's
cousin Julia could not come, for she had
a baby very young, and Captain Carey
could not leave them. Johanna Carey
and Minima were my bridesmaids, and
Jack was Martin's groomsman.
On our way home from Switzerland, in
the early autumn, we went down from
Paris to Falaise, and through Noireau
to Ville-en-bois. The next stage of our
homeward journey was Guernsey. Mar
tin was welcomed with almost as much
enthusiasm in St. Peter-port as I had
been in little Ville-en-bois.
My eyes were dazzled with the sun
shine, and dim with tears, when 1 first
caught sight of the little cottage of Tar
dif, who was stretching out his nets on
the stone causeway under the winJows.
Martin called to him, and he flung down
his nets and ran to meet us.
"We are come to spend the day with
you, Tardif, I cried, when he was with
in hearing of my voice.
"It will be a day from heaven,"he said;
taking off his fisherman's cap, and look
ing round at the blue sky with its sun
flecked clouds, and the sea with its scat
tered islets.
It was like a day from heaven. We
wandered about the cliffs, visiting every
spot which was most memorable to either
of us, and Tardif rowed us in his boat
past the entrance of the Gouliot Caves,
He was very quiet, but he listened to our
free talk together, for I could not think
of good old Tardif as any stranger; and
he seemed to watch us both, with a far
off, faithful, quiet look upon his face
Sometimes I fancied he did not hear
what we were saying, and again his eyes
would brighten with a sudden gleam, as
if hi3 whole soul and heart shone through
them upon us. It was the last day of our
holiday, for in the morning we should re
turn to London and to work; but it was
such a perfect day as I had never known
before.
- "You are quite happy, Mrs. Martin
Dobree.' said tardif to me, when we
were parting from him.
"I did not know I could ever be so hap
py," I answered.
We saw him to the last moment stand
ing on the cliff, and waving his hat to us
high above his head. Now and then
there came a shout across the water. Be
fore we were quite beyond earshot, we
heard Tardif's voice calling amid the
splashing of the waves:
"God be with you, my friends. Adieu,
mani'zelle!"
(The end.)
Consumption Can Be Cured.
Reading aloud is recommended by
physicians as a benefit to persons af
fected with any chest complaint.
The recommendation-is made because
In all cases of lung trouble it is impor
tant for the sufferer to indulge in exer
cise by which the chest is in part filled
by and emptied of air, for the exercise
Is strengthening to the throat, lungs
and muscles of the chest. Reading
aloud can be practiced by all, and can
be a pleasure and profit to both reader
and hearers. In this treatment it Is
recommended that the reading be delib
erate, without being allowed to drag,
that the enunciation be clear, the body
be held in an easy, unstrained, upright
position, so that the chest shall have
free play, and that the breathing be as
deep as possible, without undue effort.
Regarded as an Evil in Austria.
As a result of a report submitted to
the Austrian council of agriculture, set
ting forth that suits cannot be brought
to recover losses in transactions for the
future delivery of grain, the council has
unanimously declared itself in favor oC
prohibiting altogether transactions in
grain for future delivery. This Infor
mation is conveyed in a communica-
tlon to the State Department from j
United States. Consul Warner at Leip
zig, Germany. Mr. Warner states that
the council has petitioned the govern
ment to use its influence to suppress
this practice altogether in Austro-Hun-gary.
Chances Increased.
A boy baby a month old can expect
but 42 years of life. If, however, he
lives to 5 years his chances of living
have increased to 51 years and 6
months.
Regulation of Price of Medicine.
The price of medicine in Prussia Is
regulated by the statfc
How to Make a bolt's Chair.
Very pretty and strong little chairs
for dolls may be made inexpensively at
home In the following manner:
Saw off the two ends of a large spool.
Hammer four fine-pointed nails in on
the under side, for the legs of the chair.
Next put in six nails on the upper side
in a semi-circle to form the back. .Thus
you have a firm foundation as In the
sketch No. 1. ? ?
Now for the upholstery
With a ball of fine wool or yarn, In
one color or variegated, begin at the
top of one leg, just under the seat, and
wind round and round it tightly and
smoothly. On arriving at the end, turn
back and wind over again to the top.
Sow carry the wool over to the opposite
leg and proceed in the same manner un
til all four are completely covered.
Next, wind the wool over and under
the seat diagonally between the oppo
site corners, then wind it across from
side to side, then from back to front.
This makes a well padded seat, the
same on top and uuderneath. To pad
the back, the wool is woven in and out
over the nails, back and forth, until the
whole is well covered when the end is
secured and cut neatly off. The result
is all that can be desired, neat, strong
and pretty. Care must be exercised in
driving the nails into the spool ends. If
too hard or too thick they may split the
wood.
A Dilemma.
Sir Lionel Stuyvesant Peter von Toots
Had one hundred and ten pairs of beau
tiful boots;
Bluchers and Wellingtons, Hessians and
Jacks,
Round toes and pointed toes, russets and
blacks.
High-lows and buskins, of each a full
store.
Top-boots and sandals and gaiters ga
lore,
Balmorals and Congress, strapped, but
toned, and laced;
With the finest of silk they were tasseled
and faced;
Bathing, golf, tennis and bicycle shoes,
Worsted-worked slippers of marvelous
hues.
Dancing pumps, too, of bright patent
leather
In short, he had footgear for all sorts of
weather,
For all sorts of places and all sorts of
times,
For all sorts of ventures in all sorts of
climes.
Yet Sir Lionel Stuyvesant Peter von
Toots
Was that kind of a person whom nothing
quite suits;
And all day he would sit in his large
easy chair,
Uncertain which ones 'twould be proper
to wear.
St. Nicholas.
Edison, Boy Editor.
Thomas Edison, the "wizard," has
been so long associated with his won
derful Inventions in electricity that a
good many forget that he was ever a
telegraph operator for a living, and still
fewer know that he ever was an editor.
Edison was a boy who used his eyes to
good advantage. When he was forced
out into the world at the early age of
12, he went as train boy on the Grand
Trunk Railroad in Michigan. Even
then he was dabbling in chemistry in a
laboratory fitted up in one end of the
baggage car, but as a seller of papers
he kept his eyes open and finally de
cided to edit and print a paper of his
own. He bought some old type, man
aged somehow to get an old printing
press and there in the same baggage
car which held his little laboratory he
A DOLL'S CHAEBtT-nG. L -
a boll's chair fig. 2.
printed his Grand Trunk Herald. He
had no assistants but the baggagemen
and brakemen. and his news was nat
urally only railway gossip, but never
theless bis little 3-cent publication be
came very popular and was noticed by
the London Times.
Edison by this time bad three boys
working for him as assistants and
many a boy would have been satisfied
with this. Not so Edison. He left It
all and started out on the career which
has made him the master inventor of
the nineteenth century. '
This same career represents years of
poverty, difficulties, ridicule, hard? luck
all the way round and innumerable
trials and obstacles, and it Is an un
usual character as well as a man of
unusual ability who could have kept to
the track he believed he should travel,
as Edison succeeded in doing. All the
ability in the world will not take a
man to the highest round of the ladder
unless he also develops stability of
character and tenacity of purpose.
Minneapolis Journal.
Nettie Missed the Point.
"I always have my lessons better
than any of the girls in my class, mam
ma," said 6-y earmold Nettie.
"I'm glad to hear it, Nettie," rejoined
her mother. "But don't you think it
would sound better if some pne else
said it?"
"Yes, I guess it would," replied Net
tie. "I've got such a bad cold I can't
say it very well."
Why Send Missionaries?
Bobbie (trying to quiet his baby sis
ter) Say, mamma, is it really true that
babies in China never cry?
Mamma I have no reason to doubt it,
dear.
Bobbie Then what Is the use of send
ing missionaries to a place where the
kids are all angels?
What It Showed.
Mamma Tommie, I'm glad to ob
serve that you have given your little
sister the largest piece of cake. It
shows you are charitable.
Tommie No, it doesn't, mamma. It
shows that the small piece bad the most
raisins in It.
Meaning of "M. D."
"Mamma," queried little Ethel, "what
does M. D. mean after a doctor's
name?"
"I know," exclaimed her small broth
er. "It means 'money down.' "
POWER OF A PINT OF WATER.
Under Certain Conditions It Will Burst
the Strongest Cask.
A single pint of water will burst a
strongly built iron-hooped oaken cask
as quickly as though a dozen pounds or
gunpowder-were exploded within It. It
is a well-known law of physics that the
pressure exerted by liquids Increasing
in proportion to their depth. Suppose,
therefore, that we have a strong cask
filled with water and standing on end.
The staves of this cask may be made
to burst apart by adding a very small
quantity of water to what is already
in the cask.
As the cask is already full some way
of adding the water must be devised.
To do this a hole is bored in the end
or head of the cask and a long tube of
small diameter is inserted upright. At
the upper end of the tube is a small
funnel, into which water is poured until
the tube becomes full, and when that
point is reached the cask will burst.
This seems almost incredible, but it
is only a demonstration of the law that
has been cited. When the water is
poured into the tube it unites with the
water in the cask and the depth of the
water is several times as great as it
was in the cask alone. The' fact that
there is only a small quantity of water-
in the tube makes no difference, for it
is now all one body, and its depth is
gauged from the top of the tube to the
bottom of the cask.
As a matter of fact, this experiment
is only an artificial reproduction of
what we know takes place in nature.
Some of her greatest convulsions are
caused by this very process. Suppose,
for example, that there is a great mass
of rock, under which there is a cavity
filled with water that has no outlet
Suppose, moreover, that there is a crack
extending from the surface of the
ground through this mass of rodk to the
water-filled cavity underneath.
A rock in this condition is a common
thing in nature, the crack being caused
by some disturbance of the earth, or
by Its splitting in the natural order of
things. Now when it rains enough to
fill that crack, thus increasing the depth
of water in the cavity, the pressure will
become so great that the rock will be
torn into 100 fragments.
The Trial of Genius.
"John, dear," she said, in her sweet.
affectionate voice, which she only used
on rare occasions, "are you well up
with your Christmas work?"
'Pretty well," he sighed, as he put a
period to a poem which bad almost giv
en him nervous prostration. "Why dc
you ask?"
'Because, dear. I'm afraid you are
undermining your health, and I want
you to take a recess and write me a
short story to pay for my new dress, a
couple of poems for my hat and gloves,
a good, stirring campaign song that
will bring in enough for a ton of coal
and one or two of those darling love
poems for some lard and a sugar-cured
ham; and ham, dear, is only 12 cents a
pound!" Atlanta Constitution.
Perfunctory
MInnick What is 'De mortuis nil nisi
bonum," anyway?
Sinnick That's merely a quotation
that people use just before they begin
to say something unkind about a de
parted friend." Philadelphia Press.
Old age is most pitiful when It gives
those who reach it the air of a whipped
dog.
Convenience in Swine-Keeping.
For a door which may be attached to
any hog house whose inmates are in the
habit of breaking down the usual bar
riers, nail heavy planking to cleats
placed on the Inside and use strong
strap hinges. For ordinary fastening,
strong iron hooks at top and bottom
will answer, although. If necessary,
added security may be had by placing a
strip of heavy planking across the door
resting in strap iron slots. A small
house has been found useful and com
fortable where numbers of young pigs
are raised, and it is desirable to let
them have all the exercise they wish.
A number of these small houses may
be built of rough lumber and covered
with building paper. They are placed
SWINE-KEEPING CONTRIVANCE.
at convenient places and covered, on
the windy side, with corn stalks, waste
straw or other handy material to make
them more comfortable. A good ar
rangement is to construct a rough fence
so that the straw covering placed on the
sides and top will be inside the fence
and the opening of the house into the
yard. Ten or a dozen small pigs can
occupy one of these small bouses with
comfort and will thrive. Indianapolis
News.
Old Principles in Farming.
While it is undoubtedly true that
farmers have learned much about farm
ing during late years that has material
ly helped them in making the farm pay
better returns, it is also true. In many
cases, that they are getting away from
some of the fundamental principles of
correct farming. The tendency to sell
as much as possible from the farm is
too strong and too far-reaching. Time
was when sales from the farm were
made only after provision had been
made for the living and comfort of the
occupants, human and animal. Then,
too, the soil was considered, and' If it
needed anything produced on the farm
It was furnished. These things well
provided for, the surplus, if any, was
sold. As a result the stock was well
fed and the manure went to improve
the soil. True, there was not so much
ready cash handled as now, but there
were fewer things for which cash was
needed, for everything needed that
could be produced on the farm was so
produced. It Is admitted that in this
age, when things are deemed necessi
ties that were formerly thought luxu
ries, more-ready cash is needed, but, at
least, we can so arrange things in farm
ing that the cash Is not obtained at the
expense of the animals or the vitality
of the farm;
Using Abandoned Pastures.
In many sections of the country, but
perhaps more largely in the East, one
will find on the farms fields which had
been used for pasture until they were
no longer profitable for that purpose
and not thought worth breaking up and
re-seeding. Eight out of every ten of
such pastures could be turned into fer
tile fields by proper handling. One ex
cellent plan for doing this Is to break
up this pasture, manuring It as heavily
as one can afford, and plant to corn.
Cultivate the corn several times during
the growing period and sow. In August
or September, to some cover crop. The
following spring plant to potatoes. Fu
ture crops should be according to fer
tilizing and what one wishes to grow.
The main point in this item is to call
attention to the value of these aban
doned pastures for the first crop of
corn. Enlugh corn may be grown to
carry a herd of pigs to a profitable
market and at an expense that will
hardly be felt. Exchange.
An Economical Hation.
Where there is a fair stock of clover
hay on hand, and an abundance of
corn stover, cows may be fed very
economically on a ration of ten pounds
of clover hay, fifteen pounds of corn
stover, cut or shredded if the latter,
the clover ration may be reduced one
quarter four pounds of wheat bran,
four pounds of corn meal and one
pound of oil meal a day. This is not a
heavy ration, and probably would not
do for a large animal, or one whose
milk flow was heavy, but It will an
swer very well for the average farm
cow, keep her In good milk and briDg
her out in the spring in good shape. If
It Is possible to have the corn stover
shredded by al! means do it, whatever
stock Is fed with It, for the butts are
very rich, and all animals will eat them
j Siceuujr u iucj aic lul auu sutcuueu ov
that they may be readily chewed. itn
the above ration, plenty of pure water,
and a warm, sunny and well ventilated
stable the average cow will fare well,
and the farmer who suffered from the
drought will have a comparatively
small feed bill at the close of winter.
Facta About the Silo.
Silage is as valuable in summer as In
winter.
Thirty pounds a day Is enough silage
for an average sized Jersey cow. Larger
cattle will eat more.
A cubic foot of silage from the middle
of a medium sized silo will average
about forty-five pounds.
Fifteen feet In diameter and thirty
feet is a good depth. Such a silo would
hold about 200 tons of silage cut in half
inch lengths.
Silage comes nearer being a perfect
substitute for the succulent food of the
pasture than any other food that can
be had In winter.
Corn Just passing out of roasting ear
stage is the best single material for si
lage. Corn and cowpeas are the best
combined material.
A larger amount of healthful food for
cattle can be preserved in the silo in
better condition, at less expense of la
bor and land, than by any other method
known.
The circular silo, made of good, hard
wood staves. Is the cheapest and best
For 182 days, or half a year, an aver
age Jersey cow will require about six
tons of silage, allowing for unavoida
ble waste.
Feeding Sugar Beets.
In sections where sugar beets can be
grown at comparatively small expense
they should form one of the crops for
stock feed even if not grown for fac
tory use. In many localities sugar beets
will form a fair part of the ration this
winter when grain Is scarce and high
In price. Some complaints have been
made about the sugar beets, but. In
most cases, this is due to using them
too freely. No green food or root crop
should be used at the expense of grain
or roughage, except in part, although
they may be more freely used than they
are, especially sugar beets. They are
especially desirable in the early spring
for sows that have farrowed, and for
new milch cows, greatly Increasing the
milk flow.. All farm stock is fond of
sugar beets, and If they are on the farm
or can be bought at a fair price they
should form part of the ration as long
as they may be had or until the stock
is turned out in the spring.
Fruit Assorting Table.
The cut shows an assorting table Tor
fruit or roots, which Is about 3 by 12
feet and nearly 3 feet high, with a four
inch rim all around so as to hold about
six bushels of apples or potatoes and
bring them right up so that the men
can stand up straight in sorting. Speak
ing of assorting potatoes in the cellar,
a correspondent says in reference to
this table: With a wire scoop shovel
we scoop them up from the cement bot
tomed cellar, leaving all dirt and dust
AN ASSORTING TABLE.
on the floor to be swept up and taken "
out The table stands in a good light,
and the sorting is far more rapid, easy
and accurate than when you kneel
down and sort from the big pile. The
legs should be well braced both length
wise and crosswise. We have two of
these tables, and they are a great help
and a great saving of backache and
kneeache in assorting several thou
sand bushels of apples and potatoes in
the course of a year. Ohio Farmer.
Treatment of Old Orchards.
Many an old and apparently worth
less orchard might be made of value by
encouraging the growth of the young
shoots. One orchard of the kind de
scribed was supposed to be too old to
be worth anything. The large branches
were cut back freely and where a
young shoot with much vigor was
found the cut was made so that this
shoot was not Injured nor the flow
of sap in the main branch retarded.
Grafting was done In some of the small
er branches and the trees bore several
good crops of fruit; more than enough
to pay for the work and the after care
of the soil. True, It was taking a
chance, but the labor was not great
and' the trees were valueless- unless
treated In some such manner.
Feeding Value of Apples.
The experience of careful farmers in
dicates that apples are worth more for
feeding than the usual cider mill price.
A Massachusetts dairyman who had a
lot of low grade apples began on a
large, old cow, which was nearly dry,
feeding her in connection with her sum
mer pasture exclusively two quarts of
hard Greenings and Baldwins at night -"
and the same quantity in the morning, -
gradually Increasing until at the end of
a week she was eating about one bushel .
per day. Her milk increased from four -to
six quarts per day. Where there are '
short pastures and the necessity of 'giv
ing cows some extra food inferior grade
apples may be turned to profitable ac
countFarm and Home.
About Cream.
It is claimed that the cream of two.'
skimmings mixed will not yield the
batter as well as one.
Ai
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