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About Corvallis gazette. (Corvallis, Benton County, Or.) 1900-1909 | View Entire Issue (March 4, 1902)
SEJVU-WEEKLrY. UICION Eatab. July. 1897. GAZETTE Ksteb. Iee. 1862. Consolidated Feb., 1899. COEVALLIS, BENTON. COTJXTY, OREGON, TUESDAY", MAB CH 4, 1902. VOL. II. NO. '45. CHAPTER XII. Griselda, darting homeward through the twilighted garden, after another stol en meeting with Tom Peyton on the gar den wall, stops as she reaches the sum mer house, a favorite resort of Vera's, notwithstanding the father unpleasant associations connected with it, and pokes in her head to find Vera there. "I've come back," she cries, breath lessly, sinking into a seat and looking at Vera with despair in her eyes. "I have done as you desired me, I have said good oy to him forever!" "What did he say? Was he very much upset?" with burning interest. "lie said he'd manage to see me in some way or other," says Griselda, with a heavy sigh. "Oh, well come now, that's not so bad," says Vera, cheerfully, forgetful of prudence at Bight of her sister's grief, "lie seems from all I have heard from you a a sort of a person who would be difficult to baffle. I think I should put faith in that declaration of his if I were you." "Oh, he snid more than that," cries Griselda. "Why, it appears that Tom Mr. Peyton knows Seaton quite well, and likes him, too. Mr. Peyton says that he, Seaton, is engaged to be married to a Miss Butler, a friend of Lady Riv erdale's." For a moment there is a dead silence, during which the pretty crimson on Vera's cheek dies out, leaving her singu larly pale. No doubt the surprise is great. "Is that true?" she says. "I should 'not be surprised, though I confess I am; it is only what I might have expected from my first judgment of him. And one should not condemn him, either; it is not his fault that he calls Uncle Gregory . father." A footstep upon the gravel outside .makes them both turn their heads. "What is it, Grunch?" Vera calmly asks as the housekeeper appears on the threshold. "The master wishes to sec you. Miss Dysart, in the library." There is an ex pression of malignant amusement in the woman's eyes as she says this. Vera had gone into the library with a pale face, but it was with one paler still she.' came- oat of it "half an hour'later, ' white as death, and with a strained look of passion on every feature not to be sub dued. She might perhaps have given way to the blessed relief of tears if she had had time to escape Griselda; but as she finds herself looking at Seaton Dysart, who has at this moment entered the in ner hall leading to the room she has just left, all her being seems to stiffen into a cold horror of contempt. She stops short and fixes her heavy eyes on his. "So you betrayed me!" she says, in a low tone that vibrates with scorn. "Betrnyed you?" echoes he, starting. There is that in her face not to be mis taken, and a presentiment of coming evil sends a hot flush to his brow. "You are a bad actor," says she, with a palesmile; "you change color, at a crisis; you have still a last grain of hon esty left in you. You should see to that; kill it quickly, it spoils your otherwise perfect role." "You .are pleased to be enigmatical," says he, with a frown. "I am, however, at a loss to know what you mean." "Oh, are you ashamed to keep it up the deception?" cries she with a sud den outbreak of wrath. "Oh, how could you do it?" "Great heaven! how can I convince you that I have done nothing?" exclaims he, growing pale as herself. "There was no one else awake, there was no one to see me," says she, trying to stifle hor agitation. "What, then, must I think but that you were the one to tell your father of that unlucky night when I was locked out in the garden?" "He has heard that?" Seaton, as if thunderstruck, looks blankly at her. "Why do you compel me to tell you what you already know?" says she, with a little irrepressible stamp of her foot. "If you will listen to what is already no news to you, learn that your father sent for me just now a long time ago, hours ago, I think," putting her hand to her head in a little, confused, miserable way, "and -accused me of having spent the whole night alone with you, purposely, in the garden." "And you think that I " "I don't think," with a condemnatory glance. "As I told you before, I know. Your father has insolently accused me of an impossible thing; but even if I had stayed in the garden with you that night, of my own free will, I cannot see where would lie the disgrace he connects with it." "You are right, no one could see dis grace where you were," says Seaton, calmly. "My father is an old man, he " "Is old enough to know how to insult a woman," coldly, "when," with a terri ble glance at him. "shown the way. Oh," laying her hand upon her breast in a paroxysm of grief, "it was abominable of you, and you said twice you said it," coming closer to him, and lifting accus ing eyes to his, " 'Trust me, I remember it as though you uttered it but now, and I believed you. "Trust me,' you said." "I should say it again," says Dysart, "a hundred times again. Come," he says and leads her back again to the library she has just quitted. Gregory Dysart still sits in his nsual chair, his arms on the elbows of it. bis face is set, as though death had laid its seal on it, save for the marvelously. horribly youthful eyes, so full of fire and life. "You will be so good as to explain to Vera at once," begins Seaton, in a dan gerous tone, "how it was you learned of her being in the garden the other night." "What night? She may have been out every night, for aught I know; she tells me she is fond of moonlight," replies the old man. impassively. "You understand perfectly the night of which I speak," says Seaton, his face now livid. "Who?" he repeats, in a low but terrible voice. "Grunch," replies Mr. Dysart, shortly; something in his son's face warned him not to go further. "You hear?" says Seaton, turning to Vera. It was Grunch who betrayed you. You are satisfied now? "On that point, yes. I suppose I should offer you an apology," says she, icily. "But," with a swift glance at his father, "how can I be satisfied when " Her voice breaks. "Sir," cries Seaton, addressing his father with sudden passion, "why did you speak to her of this? Why have you deliberately insulted your brother's child?" "There was no insult. I may have told her that if she chooses to do such things as society disapproves of, she must only submit to the consequences and consider herself ostracised." " 'Compromised, you said." "Well, it is as good a word; you are welcome to it. "Pshaw!" says Seaton, with a quick motion of the hand, as if flinging the idea far from him, "let us have no more of such petty scandal. You forget, sternly, "that when you seek to compro mise Vera, you condemn me, your son." Dysart shrugged his shoulders. "The man is never in fault; so your world rules," says he, lightly. "You persist, then, in your insult," says Seaton, going a step nearer to him, the veins swelling in his forehead. "Yon still say that she " "I say that, and more," replied the old man, undaunted, a very demon of ob stinacy having now taken possession of his breast. "I feel even bold enough to suggest to her the advisability of an im mediate marriage with you, as a means of crushing in the bud the scandal that is sure to arise out of her imprudence." "Go, Vera; leave the room," says Sea ton, with great emotion. "Why should she go? It seems to me you give her bad advice," says Mr. Dy sart, looking from one to the other with a satirically friendly glance. "Let her rather stay and discuss with us your marriage with her." - .' If be had been so foolishly; bliad sw to hope 'by this bold move ' to force Vera into an engagement, his expectations are now on. the instant destroyed by his son. "Understand me, once for all, that I shall not marry Vera," says he, white with anger, and some strong feeling that he is almost powerless to suppress. "Were she to come to me this moment and lay her hand in mine, and say she was will ing so far to sacrifice herself, I should re fuse to listen to her." Vera, for the first time since her en trance, lifts her head to look at him. Was he thinking of Miss Butler? Was he true at last to her? A little bitter smile curls her lip. "I thank you," she soys, with a slight inclination of her head toward her cousin, and with a swift step leaves the room. CHAPTER XIII. Four loug days have crept languidly into the past, four of the dullest days Griselda Dysart has ever yet endured, as she is compelled to acknowledge even to herself. Slowly, with aimless steps, she rises and flings aside the moldy volume she had found in one of the rooms below, and which she has been making a fruit less effort to read, and looks out upon the sunless pleasure-ground beneath her window. She becomes suddenly aware of an unfamiliar figure that, kneeling on the grass before one of the beds, seems to be weeding away for its dear life. It is certainly the new gardener. Poor creature, whoever he is, what could have induced him to come here? Uncle Greg ory had evidently found no difficulty in replacing his former employe. Had he secured this new gardener on the old poor terms? Unhappy creature! poverty indeed must have been his guest before he and his clothes came to such a sorry pass! At this moment the "unhappy creature" lifts his bead, turns it deliber ately toward her, and she finds herself face to face with Tom Peyton! A little sharp cry breaks from her; she stifles it, but turns very pale. "You! you!" she says. "Don't look like that!" he says, in a low tone, but sharply. "Would you" be tray me? Remember, it was my only chance of getting near you. Don't faint, I mean, or do anything like that." "Oh, how could you do such a thing?" says she, in a trembling voice. "And and how strange you look, and what dreadful clothes you have on!" "Well, I gave a good deal for them," says he, casting an eloquent glance at his trousers; "more four times more than I ever yet gave for a suit. I'm sorry you don't approve of them; but for myself, 1 think them becoming, and positively glory in them; I would rather have them than any clothes I've ever yet had, and I think them right down cheap. It's rather a sell if you don't think they suit my style of beauty." He is disgracefully unalive to the hor ror of his position. He is even elated by it, and is plainly on the point of bubbling over with laughter. Given an opportu nity indeed, and it is certain he will give mirth away; Griselda, however, declines to help him to this opportunity. "It's horrid of you I don't know how you can laugh," says she, beginning to cry. "I can't bear to see you dressed like that, just like a common man." "Well I think you're a little unkind," says he, regarding her reproachfully. "I did think yon would be glad to see me. I thought, I fancied I suppose I was wrong that when we parted on that last day yon were sorry that you would like to see me again." "Well, that was all true," says Gri selda, sobbingly. "Then what are you crying about?" "I am unhappy that because of me you must be made so uncomfortable." "If that's all," says he, beaming afresh. "it's nothing. I'm not a scrap uncom fortable. It strikes me as being a sort of a lark h'm a joke, I mean. I feel as jolly as a san-0oy, and," with a ten der, earnest glance, "far jollier, because I can now see you." "But how long is it to last?" says she, nervously. "It can't go on like this for ever, and Seaton comes down here some times, and he knows you." "I dare say I shall manage to avoid him. Though I have often thought late ly that it wonld be a good thing to take him into our confidence." "Oh. no, no, no indeed," cries she; "he might tell his father, and then all would be up with us." "Well, there's my sister, Gracie she's a very good-natured woman, and clever, too. . If I were to tell hecall, she would tell -Seaton, and betw'een them they might manage something. There's a step! Go away, and try to see me to-morrow if you can." . They have barely time to separate be fore the gaunt figure of Grunch is seen approaching through the laurels. CHAPTER XIV. To-day is wet; a soaking, steady down pour that commenced at early dawn is still rendering miserable the shrubbery and gardens, Vera, depressed by the melancholy of the day, has cast her book aside, and, with a certainty of meeting nobody in the empty rooms and corridors, wanders aimlessly throughout their dreary length and breadth. These rooms are well known to her, and presently wearying of them she turns aside and rather timidly pushes open a huge, faded, baize-covered door that leads she scarcely knows whith er. She pushes it back and looks eagerly inward. It is not an apartment, after all. A long, low, vaulted passage reveals itself, only dimly lighted by a painted window at the lower end. It appears to be a completely bare passage, leading no where; but presently, as she runs her eyes along the eastern wall, a door meets them, an old oaken door, iron-clasped and literally hung with cobwebs. Curiosity grows strong within her, Catching the ancient handle of this door, a mere brass ring sunk in the woodwork, she pushes against it with all her might. In vain. But not deterred, she pushes again and again; and at the last trial of her strength a sharp sound a ring of something brazen falling on a stone floor crashes with a quick, altogether as tounding noise upon the tomblike silence that fills the mysterious passage. At the same moment the door gives way, and she, unexpectedly yielding with it, "steps hurriedly forward into a dark and grewsome hole. The poverty of the light has perhaps dimmed her sight, because after a little while a shadow on the opposite wall, that resolves itself into an opening, be comes known to her. It is not a door, rather a heavy hempen curtain, and now, resolutely determined to go through with her adventure, she advances toward it. pulls it aside, and finds herself face to face: with jSregoJ7;cDy?srtrKS -He is on his knees, next that peculiar cabinet described in an earlier chapter, and as he lifts his head upon her en trance, a murderous glare, as of one hunted, desperate, comes into his curious eyes. The side of the cabinet is lying wide open, and, as he involuntarily moves,, the chink of golden coins falling one upon another alone breaks the loud silence that oppresses the atmosphere. In his hand he is holding an old and yellow parch ment. . . "I I am sorry," murmurs Vera, terri fied; "I did not know; I " "What brought you here, girl here where I believed myself safe? Go, go there is nothing nothing, I tell you they lied to you if they told you any thinggo, I say!" . He has entirely lost his self-possession, and is still kneeling on the floor, now hugging, now trying to hide beneath him the paper he holds with his sinewy, ner vous fingers. "Go, go, go!" he shrieks, beside himself. He is in a perfect fren zy; all dignity is gone; to the girl stand ing trembling there it is a loathsome sight to see this old man on the brink of the grave thus crouching, abased, dishon ored. "I am going," she says, faintly. She is ghastly pale; the sight of him in his horrible fright, cringing thus upon the ground, has so unnerved her that she ac tually grasps at the curtain for support. (To be continued.) Mntnally Surprised. There must have been about four hundred people at Lake Bennett, writes Mr. Secretan, in his entertaining book, "To Klondyke and Back," making four hundred different varieties of death dealing conveyances, for each had to construct his own boat for descending to the Yukon River. The owner of a little wheezy, portable sawmill, which was puffing away day and night, tear ing spruce logs to pieces for one hun dred dollars a thousand feet, was get ting rich. Anything that would float was at a premium. Once in a while you would see something resembling a boat, hut not often. As a general rule, the soap box and coffin combination was the most popular pattern. Some men could not wait to be sup plied by the wheezy sawmill, but went in for whipsawing on their own ac count. One man stands on top of the log, and the other below, and the saw is then pushed, up and down along a chalk mark. A story is told of two "pardners" who commenced whipsawing. After working a while, till his tired muscles almost refused duty, the lower one ex cused himself for a moment, arid bay ing hired the first man be met to take his place in the pit, disappeared. The sawing proceeded until the uppermost "pardner," all unconscious tha t he was working with an entire stranger, be thought him of a device to rest. Mak ing some ordinary explanation, he got down from the log and quickly hired an Indian to take his place at the saw. The "pardners" were mutually sur prised to meet each other shortly after ward in an adjacent saloon. A Certain Way. "How can you tell mushrooms from toadstools, little boy?" "Easy! If de guy dat eats 'em Is alive next day deys mushrooms. If he's shifted off de mortal coll den deys toadstools." A Freak of the Fairies. Oh! come and see the fairies' work! They surely came last night. And while we slept a carpet spread Of pure and -spotless white A covering for the bare brown earth. To shield it from the storm, And pinned the edges down secure To keep the daisies warm. Then hung their sparkling jewel rare Oa every rock and ledge, And heaped their pearly treasures high On fences, trees and hedge. With cunning, skillful . touch they've traced . O'er all the window panes Quaint scenes from their bright fairy land Of mountains hills and plains. . . - -- - w And here are dainty pictures, too, Of birds and trees and flowers, And glens with silvery rivulet, And ivy-grown old towers. Now out beneath the hemlock boughs The fairies, in high glee, Are hiding, I am very sure. Come, let us go and see. Good Investment. A boy of 17, living not far from Montreal, in a private letter to a friend of the editors of the Woman's Journal, gives a graphic description of how a whale strayed Into the river. He says: My Dear Aunt Belle: -There has been quite an excitement up here for the last week. A forty-foot whale managed to make his way up the St. Lawrence River as far as here, and had been careering around for a few days. All the sportsmen went out to hunt him with rifles, shot guns, .and all kinds of weapons, without any ap parent damage to him; but two or three fellows got bullets in different parts of their bodies. One fellow went out with a muzzle-loading shot gun, rammed it with powder, put In a lot of bullets, and pulled the trigger; and when he woke he found himself on a cot in the hospital, with his face all done up in cotton. The doctor inform ed him that he would be able to take the bandages off in a month, but his face would be powder-marked all his life. Another got a shy in his leg, and one other a bullet in his arm. Then the police Interfered. All went well with the whale until Thursday, when a poor man found him floating belly up in shallow water, full of holes. He towed him to land and made the fact known that he bad cap tured the whale. People flocked to see it; but In the meantime the man had two offers one was a certified check for $600 and the-other $400 cash, and, knowing nothing about checks, he sold for the cash, whereupon the man with the $400 who had bought the whale quickly sold It to the other for $G00. Now there is a tent over the whale's body, and tickets are sold at 10 cents a peep. He made $27 Friday and $100 Saturday, and people are mad to see him, so that it is expected that the owner will make a fair profit. Appearances Sometimes Deceive. The old saying that "all is not gold that glitters" does not apply to the precious metal alone. A good many things are not what they seem to be. And although In their present form they may be straight, honest goods through and through, without any de ception whatsoever, you cannot tell from their appearance what they were in some previous stage of existence. Take tissue paper for instance. There are few things finer and softer and more delicate than that, yet what do you suppose it is made of? The ends of old ropes. If any boy upon reading this article resolves to straightway go into the business of collecting rope ends, for a paper factory, let him not discriminate against any piece because of its soiled condition. The dirtier and blacker it is, the better the quality of paper it will produce. Indeed, If you. can get any old scraps that have been used In coal pits or yards until they are saturated with coal dust and grimy particles and sticky with tar the more tar the better you will be fortunate, for it Is from such material that the very finest grade of tissue paper Is made. So sheer and fleecy is this qual ity of tissue that a ream of 144 sheets will tip the scales at only two and one-half pounds, and this weight In cludes the wrapping ' and string in which it is inclosed for shipment This tarred-rope paper is very tenacious, numerous tests having demonstrated that a sheet of it. twisted - ropewise would easily sustain a weight of 100 pounds. It is used principally In pot teries, being superior to any other sub stance for transferring the patterns of earthenware. Torne Mountain Legend. There is a Washington legend con nected with Torne Mountain in Earn apo County, New,Jersey, says the New York Tribune. Half way up the moun tain there is a deep cleft in the rocks, at the bottom of which is a spring. From some hidden point water falls Into the spring with a steady drop ping not unlike the ticking of a watch. "Listen and you will hear George Washington's watch," say the old set tlers. "He dropped it into the spring when be came up the mountain to watch the British leave New York." "Tick tick tick tick" is the sound which comes out of the rocks. "It is going yet." says the guide. "Must have been a good watch, don't you think so?" IS GALLANTRY LANGUISHING? Observations on the Decline of Street Car Manners in the South. It cannot be concealed that there is a growing tendency, even in the South, where masculine gallantry has held out longest, on the part of men to let wo men in the streetcars shift for them selves. It has not come to that point yet, but the movement is growing in that direction. It Is a fact that men are rapidly fail ing In the courtesy which was once uni formly shown to women, and the rea son, to a large extent, is that men are meeting women as competitors in all fields of labor, and this fact vastly changes" the1 social relations between the -sexes.?..-; Women " are . claiming; ail sorts of equality with men, moral, po .111,''nealajan4 are declaring more and more their Independence. The effect on the next generation will be very marked and peculiar. - The men and women of the present are af fected to an overpowering extent by the Influence of old ideas and training, and that is the reason they talk about street-car manners and Social ethics in their relations to the sexes; but in the year 1935, just thirty-three years or the period of one generation from the pres ent time, people will no longer concern themselves about such manners. The greater the number of women at work in proportion to the men, the more stringent the competition, and it can easily be seen that, according to the figures shown, the day might come when there would be no street-car man ners; but every Individual would look ut for himself or herself, as the case may be. But even should chivalry be extinguished from human manners, there will always remain the Christian grace of charity; so, in the time to come, able-bodied young men and wo men who have seats in the cars will rise to give their places to old men and women, and to others who may be sick or disabled. New Orleans Picayune. - A Brilliant Advocate. The late Sir Frank Lockwood, one of the most brilliant advocates of the English bar, was famed alike for his witticisms and his professional acute ness. An instance of his ready wit which the Manchester Gardian gives, came to hand during one of his autumn al visits to Scotland. It is a custom with Scottish territo rial magnates to be known by the names of their estates. Thus Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, of Lochiel, the imme diate predecessors of Mr. and Mrs. Lockwood at a social function, were announced as Lochiel and MrsT Cam eron. The wily Yorkshlreman promptly gave in his own name and his wife's, as 26 Lennox Garden and Mrs. Lock wood. Touching a remark as to the extraor dinary dullness of certain men who have occupied the judicial bench, Sir Frank Lockwood related In the follow ing words an instance within his own experience: A man had stolen a spade, and was tried before a stupid but well-meaning and thoroughly conscientious magis trate. He carefully looked up "Archi bald's Criminal Law," to find a prece dent on which he could convict and punish the man. "I can't find anything under the word 'spade,' " said he, "although I see that a man was convicted and severely pun ished for stealing a shovel." Then looking at the culprit severely over his spectacles, he added, "You have had a very narrow escape, but you may go now." Quick Winks. ir.Tneriments have been coiner on with an ingenious machine which shuts over a man s eye so that the eyelid as it winks opens and closes a chrono graph. So far the qalskest wink on record is about a sixtn or a second. From the landlord's point of view the man with a large family of small children is a flat failure. Illustrated Suggestions. The first illustration is a Georgia peach carrier, holding six small baskets of peaches, which we re-engrave -rom a cut In Country Gentleman. The next. No. 2. Is a bushel box from the New York Tribune. Notice that the end pieces of this box are notched at the bottom and pointed at the top, so that a lot of crates may be stacked one over the other for sorting apples, potatoes, etc., In the cellar or for carrying to marker. The third illustration is a wagonload of bushel crates, illustra tions copied from American Agricultur ist Notice the lower tier of crates. then the retaining board, which holds in position the second tier of crates placed over the first The fourth illus tration represents an opening in the fence through which people on foot can readily pass, but which cows and horses cannot get through, copied from Farm and Fireside. Thje fifth cut repre sents a new method of protecting half hardy or tender trees in winter by bending them over a log rolled close to the tree, and firmly fastened there by bundles of cornstalks thrown over the tree. A barrel or hogshead can be used in place of a log, with much saving of labor. Picture No. 6 shows a peculiar way of making a strong.bushel crate. These bushel crates are used now ex tensively by farmers who gather"from the fields- potatoes, 'onions, " -carrotu, apples, etc., placing them into these crates, then placing the crates directly Into the wagon, from whence they are carried to cellar, without dumping tl&m into wagon boxes, and shoveling them out again, as was done in old times. This cut is from American Agri culturist The last cut Is from Farm and Home and represents an easily con structed sawbnek. - Beet Sugar and Cane Sugar, Dr. Wiley, who is one of the most earnest advocates of sugar beet cul ture in the United States, said at a farmers' meeting in Ontario that the sugar cane growers in the tropics had a decided advantage over the sugar beet growers of the Northern States in the cost of production of sugar. If the labor of the South was as effective as that of the North, and as much enter prise was shown In developing the fields for cane and In other branches of the industry as must be shown on Northern farms in beet growing, the canea crop would win In the race every time. We believe this to be true, and therefore we are unable to understand why he and others so earnestly urge the growing of sugar beets here. It cannot be that the best crop has proven a profitable one to those who have been engaged in it Few of the crops that we have seen reported have shown a yield of over $00 worth to the acre, and the majority fall below $40, while the manure and labor required is about half as great as that required to grow 500 bushels of potatoes, and either of these is a more certain crop on good land well cared for than are the sugar beets. Massachusetts Ploughman. Plowing; Under Green Crops. That there Is merit in green manur ing, adding humus to the soil, no one will deny who has tried it on moder ately heavy soils, but that it should be generally practiced without regard to soil or local conditions is not a correct principle. Most- of the plants used for green manuring are leguminous in character, hence have absorbed the greatest quantity of nitrogen from the air when they have reached maturity, and, in most sections, the hay of clover, cowpeas and velvet bean has a value too great to warrant one in using It as green manure, and this is especially the case on light rather sandy soil, where the green manuring is of the least use. Under the conditions refer red to the most profitable plan would be to let the crop mature and feed It for roughage, using the manure on the farm; In this way one has all the ad vantage that would come from the green manuring, under such circum stances, and the hay for feeding be sides. Again, there is danger of sour ing the soil by too much and too fre quent green manuring, so that one should know his soil thoroughly, or, better still, experiment carefully and note results, before going Into green' manuring too extensively. Indianapo lis News. Wheat as a Hoar Food. Results obtained at the Wisconsin experiment station show that there is practically no difference in the quanti ty of pork produced from the same weight of wheat or corn. In four trials an average of 499 pounds of ground SUGGESTIONS nXtJSTRATED. wheat were required to produce 100 pounds of gain in live weight In two trials with cornmeal 49S pounds were required to produce 100 pounds of gala. When a mixture of equal parts of wheat and corn was fed, better results were obtained than when either wheat or corn was fed alone. It required 4S5 pounds of mixed wheat and corn, half and half, by weight to produce 100 pounds of gain in live weight Chicks Meed Orit. The chicks will be benefited by bar ing some kind of gritty material mixed with their first feed. Coarse sand or egg shells dried and run through the coffee mill is probably as good as any thing for this purpose.. The supply houses keep In stock what Is known as "chick grit" but we do not believe that It Is any better than what has been above suggested. Next to the rav ages of lice, bowel troubles lead to the heaviest loss of chicks, and the grit tends in a great degree to prevent such troubles If a chick Is killed at the end of the first day that It has run with the hen its crop will be found to contain a considerable quantity of sand and fine gravel, and If the weath er is such that the ben can be turned loose the day following that on which the brood Is taken from the nest and be allowed to select the food, the own er will generally be safe In relieving himself of any concern regarding their health. The hen sees to it that the chicks get something which Is not usually thought of by the owner, and that is grit Drovers' Journal. Clover In the Rotation Crops, It is now generally understood that the rotation of crops is practiced so that the plant foods in the soil may be drawn upon about in equal quantities instead. of using heavily of one and lit-' tie of the others, as Is the case when' one crop is grown several years In suc cession. There Is another point about the rotation of crops that Is not so well understood by farmers, and that is the value of using clover or some plant of a similar character as a part of the rotation crops, and simply be- cause it returns more plant food to the soil than it takes out of it Thus Itt one reason why authorities on -legumes; have urged so persistently that farm ers use them more freely and have shown where cowpeas, Canada field peas and the velvet bean can be used to advantage on farms where it does not seem possible to get a good stand of clover. Indianapolis News. Growing the Best Apples. Nurserymen report an unusual de-1 mand for the older and best-known va rieties of apple trees, such as Rhode4 Island" Greening;- King, etc:; and those1 who have fruited these old favorites' are encouraging the demand for themJ Growers have paid much attention to the later introductions and lost sight of the good things at hand. The writ er remembers buying several barrels of King apples some twenty years age in New England which were superb in quality and size, far superior to the majority of the varieties of recent In troduction, and where this variety can be grown it may be safely said that It has no rival. At this season of the year the good old varieties like King Rhode Island Greening, Spitzenburg and Northern Spy bring more money than the newer sorts. Exchange. A Correct Cellar. A cellar can be kept as pnre and dry as any other part of the house if It but have a reasonable amount of atten tion. Unless the ground be low, so asJ to make water collect in the cellar. It is not necessary, although desirable, to cement the walls and floor. Bricks set on edge and laid with tight joints form a clean and satisfactory floors Slope the floor so that a drain will car ry off any water that may collect This gives opportunity to fully wash the cellar, for cleanliness Is as necessary here as in the other rooms. Light, cleanliness and pure air make the per fect cellar, as they do the perfect liv ing room. Stick to One Breed. If farmers would take one good breed of fowls and carefully study their char acteristics, they would make more profit than if they keep trying to orig inate some new breed. It sounds well to bear yourself spoken of as the orig inator of some new and valuable breed, but very few ever succeed in starting a variety of fowls that ever amounts to anything. Dairy and Creamery Notes. Do not allow any person or dogs to worry the milk cows. The neglected cow neither fills the pail nor the farmer's pocketbook. Never stop nor let the work be Inter rupted when milk is "coming." Milk dry! Milking dry develops the udder and consequently the power of giving milk. If there is any one thing that needs a dairyman's personal attention more than any other, It Is milking. If there is a little milk left In the udder each time it will cause any cow to decrease in her milk flow and finally cease giving milk at all. Knowing how means much In butter making. This is why one person's but ter is quoted at 20 cents a pound, while' another's from just as good milk, wiil bring only 8 cents. A cow should be milked three or four times a day if she Is suffering from any disease of the udder. , ;y There should be no loud, boisterous-;' language permitted while doing the milking, for the cow is a nervous cresV" ture, and any uncalled for excitement affects the quantity and quality of milk unfavorably. It Is the litt'.e attentions that go to' make up the successful management of dairying, and be who does not study the needs of the common cow and her environment need expect no success with ber blooded sister.