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About Corvallis gazette. (Corvallis, Benton County, Or.) 1900-1909 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 4, 1902)
GAZETTE CORVA SEMI-WEEKLY. COBVAIililS, BENTON COUlsTT, OREGON, TUESDAY, FEB BIT AEV 4, 1902. VOL. IL NO. 41. 5?6Vi. I Consolidated Feb., 1899. GAZKTTK Bstab CHAPTER III. (Continued.) j Standing upon a mound near ber, sne places her bands to hei pretty mouth, j and, with a simple eloquence that cannot be too highly commended, cries "Hi!" to him, at the top of her fresh young voice. Whether the breeze has played traitor, or whether the bending figure is of so gross material as to be deaf to this bril liant appeal, who can say. At all events, he never stirs or lifts himself from his task, whatever it may be. Nothing daunted, Griselda returns to the attack. Hi!" cries she again, with a sharper, freer intonation. And still nothing comes of it. The bending figure refuses to straighten his back, and things remain as before. It is really too bad. Getting down from her mound she clambers up on higher bank, and once more sends out her voice upon the world: "Hi, my good man!" This does it. As if compelled to acknowledge this tribute to his virtues, "my good man" upiears himself, looks vacantly round him at ev ery point but the right one first, and at last sees Griselda. The effect produced is not only .nstantaneous but marvelous. Down goes his rod, his cast, his choicest fly an admirable orange grouse and he comes steaming toward her at about twenty knots an hour. His eyes, ever since they first lighted upon Griselda, have seemed to grow to her, and now, as he draws nearer, she too sees and recognizes him. The .knowl edge thus gained so surprises her that she very nearly falls off her high bank. and then grows very charmingly rosy, aud as charmingly confused. It is none other than the young man who had helped to restore tine carriage to its legitimate position. CHAPTER IV. "It is really you?" cries he, with unaf fected delight, coloring warmly. "It is you, too," replies she, reflectively, and as though It is a little unfair to throw all the personalities at her. "So it is," says he, smiling gayly. "You wanted me? I hope you had not to call often?" 1 "Very often," smiling, too, and jumping down off her pedestal. "I thought I should never make you hear. Do you know the road to Greycourt? I don't." "I do. It is a tedious way, and com plicated. But if you will permit me to go with you and show it to you. Miss Dy sart?" "Oh, no. No. indeed. It is giving you quite too much trouble, and how do yon know my name?" asks she, with a shy glance at him from under her long lashes. "I asked somebody in the village," con fesses he, honestly, . "and he told me you were Mr. Dysarfs niece. You don't mind that, do you?" "No. I, too, heard of you," she says, "but then I didn't take for granted every thing that was told me." "What did you hear of me?" "That you were a young man 'down from Lunnon town, an' as full o' tricks as a egg's full o' mate,' " replies she, de murely, evidently quoting somebody, and with a glance so "full o' tricks" on her own account that he laughs in spite of himself. "Well," says he, "I'm not from 'Lun non town, certainly, and I hope I'm not a greater wretch than my fellows. As to my 'tricks,' I don't believe I've one." "If not from London, from where?" "Rather close to you. My sister lives Just over the border of this county, a matter of twenty miles or so; and I spend most of my time with her." "It was a very good thing for my sister ml me that vou came fishing," says Gri selda; "or I suppose we should both be now either dead or dying. were sne looks round her. "Have we very much further to go?" "About a mile." "I wish it was less." nervously. "I am afraid Vera will be frightened at my long absence, and and that my uncle will be anirrr. "PerhaDS he won't hear of it," says Mr. Pevton. hopefully. Griselda shaker her head. "ne looks just like a person who would hear everything, she says. "I've heard a good deal about him off and on. People will talk, you know, and he's eccentric, isn t he r' "If you mean weak in mind you were never further out in your life," says Gri selda, mournfully. "He is all mind, in my opinion. There isn't a weak spot in him. By the by, have you ever been to Greycourt?" "No. I've often thought I should like to go " some Wednesday or other." Some Wednesdayl What Wednesday? And why Wednesday? Griselda is dis tinctly puzzled, but hardly likes to ask a question on the subject. "It's a quaint old house," she says, "and might be lovely, I think, if rhe trees were cut away and some sunlight let into it, and a little furniture. Its empty, positively empty." ( Surely you forget the galleries?" says he. "Is it indeed possible that you do not know that those pictures of your an cestors are absolutely priceless? Pure Lelys and Knellers, Gainsboroughs and Reynolds. Why, those galleries at Grey court, I've often heard my father say, are about the finest in England. Your uncle is good enough to open them to the pub lic every first Wednesday in the month at the very trifling charge of half a crown." "Why!" cries Griselda, flushing so hot a color that the tears grow within her eyes. "Oh, you can't mean that." "Well, why not?" says the young man, boldly, preparing with a stout courage to defend a vile cause. "It is to improve the tastes of the multitude that he does it, of course. And if he chooses to repay himself for the wear and tear of his car pets, who shall say he has not common sense on his side?" At this moment the chimneys of Grey court shone through the interstices of the trees on her left, and, with the knowl edge that she had gained her home, cumes, too, tas sound of running water, and the thought that all through her re turn walk through the leafy woods that music had rushed as a chorus to her words. "Ah! now I know!" cries she, stopping abruptly, and looking full at her com panion, who grows somewhat guilty in appearance. "That noise of running wat er'. that is the river that flows beneath Greycourt. If I had only followed it I need not have given you all this trouble." "It i3 no trouble," says he, plainly. She holds out to him her hand. "Good by," she says, gently. "Oh, not good-by, I hope," returns he, anxiously, taking the slim little hand and holding it as warmly as he dares, per haps more closely than he is quite aware. "I shall see you again?" "Oh, no. No, indeed," softiy. "You must not think that. Uncle Gregory does not nermit us to know our neighbors. He lifts his hat and Griselda, giving him a rather solemn little salute, turns away from him. A second later, however, she finds him again beside her. "It there is all tie appearance of com ing rain in the sky," he says, gravely. "Don't you think so? I fear we shall have a perfect storm before long. I thought I'd tell you, so that you might get as much good out of these woods as possible before the deluge. This week, now, might be fine, but I should not an swer for the next; and, indeed, if you will permit me to advise you, I should recom mend you to take a walk to-morrow. Who shall say that rain might not fall the day after?" Who, indeed? It seems the soundest reasoning. So Griselda, having shown herself impressed by it, inclines her head to him once more, and, a turn in the path hiding him at last from view, takes to her heels, and hard ly draws breath until, having found the small iron gate that admits to the"8ar den at its lowest end, she enters by it and feels herself at last at home. On the hall doorsteps, as if lying in wait for her, stands Mrs. Grunch, the housekeeper. "Dear me, miss, and so you have re turned," says she. "Dear! but master will be main glad to hear of it. He was that upset by your absence that we daren't eo much as approach him." Gri- selda's blood grows cold. "But now he 11 be sure to tell you himself how glad he is to see you back safe and sound." CHAPTER V. Mrs, Grunch, as Griselda left her, turn ed aside, and with darkened brow made for the library, Mr. Dysart's usual abid ing place. Not finding him here, she hurries onward down the hall, until she conies to a heavy curtain, once handsome, now moth-eaten and dingy, and pushing it aside, reveals a long flagged passage, with, a high, narrow door at the extreme end. Stooping as she comes to it, she peers through the keyhole, and finding it emp ty, tries, with a cautious, quiet grasp, the handle of the door to find the latter locked. Still very cautiously she slips her hand into her pocket, draws out a key, well oiled, and inserting it in the keyhole, sol'tly opens the door. A grim smile overspreads her face as she looks toward the further end of the room. There, on his knees beside a cab inet, kneels Mr. Dysart. It is open, and Mr. Dysart, in his worn and shabby old coat, is kneeling before the secret open ing, gloating openly upon its contents. Piles upon piles of yellow sovereigns are so built one on the top of the other that they reach from one narrow resting place to the other above, and so on. Dull, heavy gold that scarcely glitters, save in the eyes of the wretched miser bending over them. ) Yet it is not so much on the money as on a paper ne holds in his hand that his attention is concentrated. He is so bent on the perusal of it that he hears neither the turn of the key ra the lock nor the woman's entrance. And now, as a mali cious chuckle breaks from her, it so star tles him that he springs to his feet as if shot, and a sharp, horrid cry, that is almost a shriek, escapes him. His face has grown deadly white, great drops of sweat stand out upon his brow. "Comforting yourself with a look at it,' says she, with a malignant leer. As she speaks she points not at the gold, but at the paper he has tightly clutched in his hand. , "How did you come Mere, woman?" de mands he, in a shrill tone. He is trem bling, and with nervous fingers presses the paper into the secret recess in the cab inet, and shuts to the oaken woodwork. "Why, through the door," retorts she. sullenly. "How else 7 lou should remeni' ber to lock it when engaged on work like this." "i couia nave sworn i locked it, says he, still shaking. See! here is the key in my pocket. I tell you, with increas ing agitation, "I did lock it. Are you a fiend that you can follow me through bolted doors?" "Hush! Don't give way to foolish fan cies. And after all, why need my com ing fluster you? Surely," with a mock ing air, "your occupation was an inno cent one; yon were but refreshing your self with a glimpse of "Be silent, woman! Are you mad?" cries he, lifting his arms like one in mor tal fear. "You're but a poor sort after all," she says, contemptuously. "Too poor for faith or trust of any sort. What! can you not even believe in me, who has served you and yours long and faithful for forty years? Is it likely I'd betray you now for his children? "Ay, he served you falsely once, says Gregory Dysart, a savor of pleasure ra his tone. "He took my best my life, my soul the heart of everything," says she, slow- ly beating one withered hand upon the other. "Though years have rolled by I have not forgotten; I shall not forget at all. When first I saw them 1 felt as though, if power were given me, I could have blasted as they stood those insolent hussies upstairs, Something out of the goodly past, some vague touch of decency belonging t the days when he was young and happy, and when honor was still a word to which he dung with all his might, renders this coarse epithet, as applied to the pretty or phans committed to his care, insupport able. "Yea hardly remember, perhaps, that you are speaking of my nieces," he says with an angry frown. "Hoity toity! None of yoar airs with me," says she, sternly. She advances a step nearer to him. "Remember, Dysart, that I can either make or mar you. I and I only." "I would I were sure of that," says he, moodily. "But Have you forgotten Sedley? He knew." "Pish! He's dead: let him rest. What a one you are to worrit! Twenty years and more, and no sign of him, and I ask you was he the one to remain quiet, if he saw a way to forcing a sovereign out of you?' "True, true, says Dysart, eagerly catching at this suggestion. "And yet I would give much to know that he was In the grave." "Ay, and I in mine! I know yon," says she, with an evil look. "Yon tear me." "I fear nothing," says he, coldly. "What," says shet slowly, regarding him closely; "not even that your son should know?" She pauses, pleased with her work. All at once, as it were, on hearing this ques tion, the old ma quails before her like a beaten hound, l'he life goes out of him, he seems to shrink into himself, and puts out his hands La though to ward off some fatal blow. "Not that. Anything but that." he mutters, feebly. "Well, don't drive me to it," says she, sulkily. 'Remember, it was for him I did it. cries he, sharply. "After all my love, my care, my secrecy, to have it now laid bare to him! I tell you his fingers working convulsively "rather than that he should . know, it seems to me that it would be a sweet and simple thing to murder him who would betray me." Tm not going to betray you, says she. "And as for saying 'twas for him you did it, why " "For him. For his sake only. "Partly, I think," says she, dryly. "Entirely; altogether. What other crea ture had I to love me to love? His mother, as you know, hated me; and when she' died I was glad," says he. crushing his fingers together. 'Yet the deed was scarcely necessary if done for him," says Grunch, holding her ground. "That old aunt of his the mother's sister put want out of the ques tion for him." "I knew nothing of her desire to make him her heir then." "You know it now, anyway,. says she. with a nasty sneer. "And it is never too late to mend to find by accident that paper you have just locked up." "I have thought of it," says ne, witn lowered brow and eyes bent upon the ground, Mreamed of ; it: ,and ,;. all. my dreaming has but convinced me that things rhad better stay as they now are. Into what better hands could they have fallen? Who would have husbanded it all like me? You know the care, the trouble, the sleepless days and nights I have devoted to the management of of it. You know whether it has ever been a joy to me rather a grief, a wearying of the-flesha curse! The word comes from between his lips with a little hissing sound. "But it is all for him, for him," he says, in a dying tone. With restless, feeble steps he begins to pace the room. "He believes in me. He trusts me; he alone- now! But if ever he were to learn the truth he would spurn me from him. I swear to you" he turns and fixes his burning eyes on hers "I'd strangle you with these hands," holding them out be fore her, trembling -with passion, yet strong and lithe, "before the words could pass your lips." "I'm not going to play traitor. I ve told you that," says she, frowning. "I've had a chance before this if I wished to do it; and I'm not going to help his children, Whatever happens. tier brow grows black and her eyes lighten. "May curses follow him Wherever he be, even through the gates of death!" "Amen," says Dysart, carelessly. Then, in a different tone: Seaton is coming home to-morrow, "You have a design," says she, fixing her sharp eyes on him with a searching regard. "True; and I think well of mentioning it to you," says Dysart, slowly. "After long end careful thought I have decided on abandoning more ambitious schemes and wedding him to my elder niece. Vera." (To be continued.) Chinese Compliments. There Is one point in which Chinese etiquette, so often absurd, is much more sensible than ours. That is iu Its failure to regard the imputation of ma ture age as a discredit to either man or woman, or, on the other hand, the im putation of youthfulness as a compli ment to. persons of either sex. An ex ample of Chinese politeness, connected with the visit of the Prince and Prin cess Henry of Prussia to Shanghai, if amusing, as It reflects on our own false notion of the complimentary in such matters. The German prince and princess were visiting a notable mandarin, one of whose first questions to the prince this being an invariable matter of Chi nese politeness was: "How old are you?" "A little more than thlrty-slx," an swered the prince, smiling. "Indeed!" said the mandarin. "Your highness appears fifty." The mandarin then turned to the in terpreter Herr Voight, a German and inquired the princess age. She an swered, "Thirtytwo." The Interpreter Interpreted, and the mandarin made a remark in Chinese evidently intended to be complimentary. The Interpreter blushed uneasily, and hesitated to translate, the remark. The prince saw the difficulty, and laughingly -commanded: "Out with It Voight r "He says," the interpreter then trans lated to the princess, "that your high ness looks like sixty!" He had meant it well, and of course the princess had sense enough not to take It 111. The sweetest type of heaven is home. The Birthday Presents. The Boy was on his way to the groc ery, and he was thinking so hard that he eame near going by the shop. He recollected in time, but while the man was griding the coffee that the Moth er wanted he went on thinking. How disappointed the Twins would be when their birthday came and there was no bookcase afid no doll-bouse for them! The Father bad said only this morning that be had no spare money to spend for presents, and the Boy him self had less than a dollar. Yet he knew that the Brother was expecting a bookcase, and the Sister bad con fided to him her hope that her dolls would soon have a borne' of their own, A customer inquired for little bis cuits, and a clerk started to open a fresh box. As be did so -ne pushed aside the empty box, and It stopped near where the Boy was standing. His eyes fell on it with indiffejrence then suddenly his face lighted. The Mother said he was always baying Inspira tions, and one came to him now. He thought a moment longer, and then walked straight across to the clerk. "How much do you get for your empty cracker-boxes?" "Ten cents apiece when the covers are good." "Yes; but without covers?" r . "Split 'em up for kindling-wood or give 'em away. You want one to carry home?" "I'd like about six of those, but I'd rather pay for them. Theysare worth something to you for kindling-wood. and I'm willing to give a quarter for half a dozen." AH right. Don't believe we have so many lust now, out we empty em pretty fast, and I'll save 'em for you, The Boy thanked him, and hurried home with bis coffee, his head full of his new scheme.. For the next three weeks his room was shut to the Twins, greatly to their wonder and sorrow. Such a thing had never occurred before, and they could not understand it. There were also queer, painty smells in the air, and. the Boy was locked into bis room after school and before school, and for hours at a time on Saturdays. It was very mysterious. But the secret was: out when the birthday morning came, for there were as convenient bookcase and as dainty a dollhouse as the Brother and the Sis ter had ever dreamed of. For each. three boxes had been placed on their sides, one above the other, and every bit of printing had been washed or sandnanered off. The bookcase was stained and polished, making it look almost like oak, and as for the doll house oh. how the Boy had worked to make that dollhouse! The outside was painted white, with green blinds, and the three rooms inside were finished and furnished Just as rooms should be. The walls were papered, the floors were stained -and polished. There were pretty rugs and muslin curtams those were .the Mother's gift; there were chairs and tables and a bedstead, and so many other beautiful things that the Sister could only say, "Oh, how dar ling!" and "Isn't that lovely?" and give little sighs of delight and giggles of rapture for a whole hour. The Brother began almost at once to place his books in the new ease, and it took so long to arrange them to his satisfaction that he was still at the happy task when the Boy started for school. The Boy looked back as he closed the door. The Sister's dolls were eating breakfast in the new dining-room, and the Brother was trying to decide whether "The Jungle Book" would look best on the first or second shelf. "They couldn't be better pleased," he said to himself, "if those things had cost fifty dollars instead of fifty cents!" Youth's Companion. Carlo and Bruno. Carlo and Bruno, one a St. Bernard, the other a Newfoundland, are claimed by tbeir owner, Mr. Peter Gruber of Rochester, to be the two largest dogs in the State of New York. But they are entitled to consideration in other respects. They are famous snake kill ers. Mr. Gruber is known through the East, and, in fact, in the South and West, also, though not to the same extent, as "Rattlesnake Pete." It was he, who, seven or eight years ago, ap peared on the floor of the New York NOTED 8NAKE-KIIXINQ DOGS. Stock Exchange arrayed from head to foot in clothes made from snake skins. . The tie be had round his neck was a snake skin, and even the orna ment that generally fastens a tie in front was a snake's eye. When he goes into the wilds of Pennsylvania and other States hunting snakes, be is invariably accompanied by Carlo and Bruno, who, from long practice, have become dexterous in the game. The dogs are very fond of each other, and the cat seems to like their company. Julia Knew. "Now. Julia," said the teacher to a small kindergarten pupil, "suppose I divide this apple Into four equal parts. What would one of the parts be called?" 'A piece of apple," was the prompt reply. Would Betnrn the Favor. One evening little Clara, having re peated her regular prayer, surprised her mother by adding: "I'm ever so much obliged to yon. Lord, for all you have done for me. and I'll do as much for you some time." Class Had'aa Idea. "What Is the feminine of tailor?" asked the teacher of the juvenile gram mar class. 'Dressmaker," promptly answered the class in chorus. Wanted the Old Kind. Small Mabel was dining with ber mother at a neighbor's one day, and not being accustomed to silver knives and forks, she queried: "Mamma, why don't we have tin knives?" -- Boy Wanted Information. "Mamma," said a little .boy of 4, ap proaching his mother with unmistaka ble symptoms of stomach trouble, "do they make plum puddin' in heaven?" SOME CURIOUS CHIMNEYS. One in London Built Like a Coffin Another Is in Form of Skeleton. In the neighborhood of Stamford street, in the southeast of London, there is a chimney shaped after the likeness of a huge coffin. It Is made up of dark-colored bricks and presents an appearance wbicb is gloomy to the point of depression. This quaint erec tion, curiously enough, is well-nigh un noticed by the Inhabitants of the dis trict, many of whom are quite un aware of Its presence in their midst. A small music hall in a southern city of France Is decorated with a chimney shaped to resemble a man. The figure is attired in frock coat and silk hat, while a huge metal tube, painted brown and representing a cigar, re poses in the lips of the queer appara-. tus. From this "cigar" the smoke is sues in great black clouds, and so real istic is the whole contrivance when re garded from the street below that at first sight the spectator is led to be lieve that a fashionably attired gentle man is enjoying a weed on the theater roof. Curious chimneys abound in all quarters of the globe. In several American cities it is no uncommon oc currence to encounter chimney stacks constructed on the lines of wine flasks, the base of the erections being swathed In straw-colored woodwork to resem ble, the baskets wherein such flasks usually recline. - ? ; ' Perhaps, however,"" one of the most peculiar chimneys of the world, says the London Tit Bits, is that which Is to- be seen In a Roumanian township, and which is known by the name "Death FunneL" It represents a skeleton some fifty feet .in height, and is built throughout of gun metaL The shaft is conveyed upward through the spine of the figure and the smoke issues from the apex of the skull. Veritably, a ghastly chimney, and one would have imagined that the eccentric millionaire who thus adorned his roof-top might have hit upon some less gruesome means of enhancing his reputation for extravagant whimsicality. BY-PRODUCTS OF COKE Gas Is the Principal One Ammonia and Tar. In a coal like the Connellsville cok ing coal, containing from 29 per cent to 35 per cent of volatile matter, there is from 8.000 to a little over 9.000 cubic feet of gas per short ton, writes W. G. Irwin in the Engineering Magazine On it is basis the 30.000,000 tons of coal coked in the United States last year would produce more than 230,000.000, 000 cubic feet of gas. Allowing one- half of this production for consump tion in the oven, we have remaining over 120.000,000,000, or about one-half the annual natural gas production dur ing the height of that excitement. To convert this fuel gas into illuminating gas involves a change In the operation of the oven so that gas produced with the recuperation of air and gas may be burned in the flues instead of the rich coke-oven gas. Ammonia, that is ammonia sulphate, is the most valuable of the by-prod ucts of oke making, it having a mar ket value of about $20 per ton. The yield of this by-product from each ton of coal coked is about 20 pounds, or a total yield of over 300.000 tons for the 30,000.000 tons of coal coked In the States last year, which would make the value of this by-product over $, 000.000. The yield of tar is about 60 pounds per ton of coal coked. By product tar is superior to tar that comes from the gasworks. It contains a less amount of Ditch, and its fuel value Is about $5 per ton. which would give a value of nearly $3,000,000 for this product from the coal consumed in coking last year. In their primary stt savs the Black Diamond, the combined by-products of cokemakin have a value . of close to $1 for each ton of coal coked. After passing through the complex processes of mod ern chemistry these have a much great er value. . Senatorial Book Collector. Senator Heitfield, of Idaho, Is a noted Elector of rare editions. He is the possessor of more curious and interest ing books centuries old than any other man in the Senate. Tobacco for State Institutions. The iMinnesota Board of Control re cently bough two tons of chewing to bacco and half a ton of smoking tobac co for the Inmates of the State institu tions. Postage stamps are egotistical when they get stuck on themselves. A f I 1 IT i - irf - i.J" i 1 Inexpensive Fodder Rack. A correspondent of the American Agriculturist describes a very cheap and entirely satisfactory fodder rack. The basis for this rack is two 2x8 Inch boards, each ten feet long. These are rounded at the ends like sled runners. Five 2x4 Inch boards, each 5 feet 4 inches long, are bolted to these boards, as shown In the Illustration, every four feet. Tbere are several 2x4 inch boards, jach four or five feet long, spiked to the bridge boards in an upright posi tion. These complete the frame. A tight Boor is placed on the crossplece, and boards are nailed to the sides and ends CHEAP FODDER BACK. un to a height of eighteen inches. A space of sixteen inches Is then left without covering. The sides and ends can be boarded up the remainder of the distance. These upper boards can be placed together or space can be left be tween them as seems best. Hay. straw or fodder thrown into this rack cannot be trampled and lost because of the tight bottom and sides up to a height of eighteen Inches. There is no loss of food. Grain feed can be put Into this rack If desirable. The rack can be transferred from one part of the field to the other simply by hitching a team of horses to It UainK Mineral Fertilizers. When liberal applications of potash and phosphoric acid are to be used, it is better to put them on as early in the spring as possible, and work It well into the soil, even two or three weeks before the seed is out in. Upon a heavy clay soil It would probably be even better to put it on In the fall. By the early application It becomes partially dissolved in the soil and bet ter distributed through it, and there Is no danger of its injuring the germina tion of the seed as it might do if It was put on when the seed was put in, and they came In contact When tankage Is used for nitrogen this may be put on at the same time as the other fertiliz ers, as in the cold ground it will take some time for it to decay enough to make Its nitrogen available. There would be very little if any loss of nitro gen. But In using nitrate of soda wait until the seed Is put In, or even until the plants are up, and then scatter It around them, not getting it on them when they are wet lest It should burn. For a crop that needs the whole sea son to grow It Is often better to make two light applications of nitrate of soda, the last when the plans are about half grown, than one heavy one. American Cultivator. A Wrinkle in Apple Packing. "There la a knack in doing every thing" Is an old saying, and the trutn- fulness of It was brought to mind yes terday, says the Oregonian. by a gang of men engaged in wrapping and pack ing apples. Each man had a full box of apples, a pile of thin paper enf into wrappers, and an empty box. An ap ple was taken from the full box. a wrapper put around it and it was put In the other box. It is not an easy thing to pick up a wrapper of thin paper from a pile without missing one occasionally, and in doing this the men adopted different schemes. A new hand wet his thumb on his tongue for every wrapper. One who had been longer in the business and found that it was unwholesome to be wetting bis thumb on bis tongue, bad a slice of lemoD beside bis pile of wrappers and moistened bis tbumb In the lemon be fore picking up a wrapper. Tbe scheme worked well, but be did not know whether tbe acid of tbe lemon would make his thumb sore or not A third man had a thin rubber thump stall on bis thumb and could pick up wrappers all day long and never make a miss. He was an old band at tbe business. New England Fanner. Feeding Sheep Profitably. After several years .of experience In tbe use of corn fodder for sheep It has beei found profitable when made a small part of the ration and fed after shredding. Fed without cutting or shredding It is simply wasted. In some sections sheep men have used shredded corn stover entirely as roughage, but this plan has not al ways worked well. By using good hay, clover or timothy, every alternate day, with the shredded corn stover the re sults have been satisfactory, especial ly when tbe sheep had roots once a day and were On a varied ration of grain, oats, bran and corn meal. It Is not intended that the corn stover, even if shredded, shall supply more than the roughage, for tbe grain and root feed must be liberal to carry the sheep through tbe winter In good shape. Tbe cost in money or labor In shredding the corn stover for any stock is con sidered offset by the added value In mar.sre. Housing Farm Implements. The good farmer Is supposed to clean and house all farm Implements as soon I as he has finished using them each day, but many do not do this. They should . devote at least one day to the work of , collecting them, rubbing the rust off. oiling the iron work, and putting in ' good order for another year's work. When well housed it will pay to go over the wood work with a coat of paint. When the tools are wanted, for ase again and they are found all ready and In good condition, this will prove one of the best day's work done this year, as It will save several days' time and bother with them In the busy season. save strength of men and teams, and ; prevent many of the accidents that un lucky men are so apt to have. In break ing down just when most In a hurry. Eggs t7 the Pound. There has been much talk about sell ing eggs by the pound. In and around some of our larger cities there are many sold In that way, but they are not sold In the shell. Cracked eggs and the larger ones among the dirty eggs. If fresh, are broken out and the watte and yolk well beaten together. Soma packers use a churn to thoroughly mix them, which Is Important as If they are put up just as they come from the shell the yolk becomes dry and mealy. They are-then frozen solid and kept in cold storage until wanted. They are packed In tins of from ten to forty pounds each, and of course the demand for them comes principally from the bakers, for cakes and similar uses. It is said that a pound of the frozen egg is equal te ten eggs of the average size. Tbey will not keep sweet long after they aref thawed out, so that it Is Important that the user knows how many pounds be. needs at one time, and opens.no more than that Packers who are careful to avoid putting in any tainted or spotted eggs get about 12 to 13 cents a pound, while other grades- not as carefully se lected have to be sold at 10 cents. We are wondering whether this plan could be used successfully in putting up smaller cans for family use. If It can we expect some one will try It Massa chusetts Ploughman. Guinea Fowls. Guinea fowls have many good quali ties. We should find them among every flock of poultry. The guinea fowl can not of course, supplant or even rivalT the chicken, but tbere is no more deli cious or palatable disb than a young guinea fowl, and the eggs, though small, are very rich and delicate. The greatest objection to them Is tbelr wild nature, which prompts them to seek the woods in search of nests. The young birds will leave the nest almost as soon as dry, and unless the mother and young are confined in a tight coop the tiny things will stray off and die. They are tender until two weeks old, after' which time, if protected at night, they grow rapidly, and require practically no attention. They must have free range, and when given it will .gather all they require to eat and during winter weather they need no special care, since they do not begin to lay until spring, anyway. Tbey are not subject to any of the many diseases wbicb afflict chickens, and really merit the attention of farmers and poultrynien. . Good Care of Hogs Pays. Too many are afraid of a little work and trouble, says an Iowa farmer. I ;j clean the pens twice a week. Hogs are supplied with plenty of water and charcoal to prevent disease. Air slaked lime Is used for a disinfectant With" proper care there is very little dangei of disease. There are preventives, but : no cure, for cholera when it gets a t. start I always plant a patch of pota toes for feeding hogs in the fall to get them to market quick. I started a bunch of hogs on potatoes, fed them sixty days with chop and cooked pota- . toes with a little whole grain, and the bogs made a gain of two and a half pounds per day, or 150 pounds per hog. Care should be taken In starting hogs on potatoes. They should be fed spar ingly at first increasing a little every time tbey are fed. not feeding more than they will clean up. The best mar ket for hogs is at 200 to 250 pounds weight Business Not Overdone. Tbe poultry business is not overdone. It is like any other business in that It must be properly conducted. There Is always a ready market for poultry and eggs every day In the year, and tbere is a demand above the market prices for high grade stock and eggs. We are speaking now from tbe standpoint of the market poultiynian. Conditions are the same, however, with the fancier. If you will show us a poultryman who Is unable to dispose of bis stock at profitable prices, we will show you one who does not take advantage of his opportunities and conduct bis buslnesi upon a business basis. Reliable Poul try Journal. . Oats Best for Horses. A horse will be able to do more bard work when fed on oats than when fed on corn. Farm Notes. Never mix fresh milk with that which has been cooled. Peas make one of the very best feeds for sheep in the winter. Poultry and swine do not relish or do well on cotton-seed meal. Tbe broom corn crop Is estimated at 4,500 tons less than last year. Keep the lambs growing. They wflll never recover from a setback. One breed of fowls well kept Is more satisfactory than several that are poor ly boused and fed. Poultry houses and yard should al ways be situated on high, dry land; a sandy billside Is tbe best of all. It is reported that there has been an Increase in the output of canned corn In Maine of 20 per cent over that of last year.