Corvallis gazette., April 22, 1902, Image 1

CORVA
GAZ
1
I J. Jill.
jj 'j
SEMI-WEEKLY.
SSKS,2tS:I&i.,&,. Consolidated Feb., 1899.
COEVAIililS, BENTON COTJOTY, OREGON, TUESDAY, APRIL 22, 1902.
VOL. II. NO. 52.
HERR STEINHARDT'S NEMESIS I
BY . MACLAREN COBBAN.
CHAPTER II Continued.
I went in the morning and discovered
how the strange tints of the water were
produced. The pond was fed by a run
let. which flowed at the bottom of the
bank on one side of the lane called by
the name of Lacroix. This lane, I had
already learned, had been in other days
the private carriage drive of the first
Lacroix ( before a Steinhardt had been
heard of) from his fine mansion to his
dye works and his model farm. The
mansion, with its noble rookery, had
long ago become the prey of the omniv
orous speculative builder; the model
farm had disappeared, all bat the farm
house which, squeezed into a sordid
corner of the spreading village, was now
let out in tenements; a Steinhardt now
reigned in the Lacriox dye works and,
in his scorn of the past, was in the
habit of "tipping" his aniline refuse
down among the tree roots of the cher
ished avenue, narrotving more and
more the already constricted channel of
the little stream, and poisoning and
discoloring the once clear flow of water
in the whole neighborhood. This it
was which washed color into the pond
and gave it its varying tints
I stood thus in some doubt and great
indignation doubt whether Miss La-
croix's dre;; tn might not afler all be
capable of as simple an explanation as
I had found for the tints of the pond,
and indignation at what I saw around
me. I had never before ventured into
Lacroix lane; I now passed under its
wretched dying trees, along the brink
of its cinder mud, ploughed a foot deep
into ruts by lumbering coal carts and
wagons, and fancied it metamorphosed
back into the private, shady, well-kept
avenue of the first Lacroix. I had
walked almost the whole length of the
lane when I met Mr. Birley, Mrs,
Steinhardt's brother "Jim."
'Ah, there you are," he called cheer
ily; when he espied me, "I was just
. coming to look you up and take you
round a bit; there s not much 'biz do
ing, and so I've taken a holiday."
After greeting I gave vent to the in
dignation of which I was full. We re
turned along the lane.
"Well," said he, laying his hand on
my shoulder, "it s not nice of coarse.
standing and surveying the lane
"But it's not for you or me to mend it;
though I'm joint guardian with Man
uel of Paul's girl" (he meant Miss La
croix), "I've nothing to do with the
property, and 'Manuel, you see, can't
bear to spend the brass, and doesn't
care a well, a button for Paul's fam
ily history. Poor Paul! he was a good
chap. I suppose the name Lacroix is
done or, and it has been what you
learned fellows would call historical."
I asked what he meant. He stopped
and pointed up the lane, away from
Timperley.
"You mightn't believe it," said he,
"but if you follow this lane right out to
the end you'll get to the .Bastille."
(The dear old gentleman called it
"Bastile.")
I looked at him: I failed to compre
hend. "You don't mean," I said, "the
famous French Bastille? the fortress
prison of Paris?"
"That's it," said he. "You've read,
I suppose, in your history books of the
taking of the Bastille, and the man
that was governor at that
Lacroix; that's the family,
old fellow was killed iu the
believe."
time, De
The poor
streets, I
Thus he went on, with much fullness
of irrelevant detail. I gathered thee
feats of consequence which I here set
down: At the time of the great emi
gration of French nobility to this coun
try, a member of the De Lacroix family
found his way to Lancashire with one
or two dependents, a packet of jewels,
and some scientific learning, and with
out his aristocratic prefix "de." He
prospected about a little, and at length
invested the money he got for his jew
els in the Turkey red and Indigo dye
works of Timperley. He prospered.
He was one of the first to apply chem
ical science to the manufacture of dyes.
He made a large fortune, and became
the great man of the neighborhood.
He had, however, a family of four sons
who gave him great trouble. They
almost ruined their fatker and quite
broke his heart before their several
courses of extravagance and debauchery
came to an end. The eldest, Paul's
father, drew up just in time, married
and settled down to the business;
another broke his neck in a steeple
chase; the third died of delirium trem
ens, or worse and the fourth still ex
isted, for he could scarcely be said to
live: he was the tongue and limb-tied
paralytic, known as old Jaques, who in
habited the little octagonal house near
the pond, which had been the lodge of
.his father's model farm. Paul had
wished him to make his house his
homo, but he insisted on settling down
there.
This sad and fateful story lay heavy
on my mind and heart for the rest of
the day. In the evening I took down
the first volume of Carlyle's French
Revolution, and read with new interest
the wonderful passages in which he de
scribes the taking of the Bastille by the
mob, and the part which the old officer
of the fortress played in its hopeless
defence.
Atter that I sat down and wrote to a
pair of London friends, asking them to
make certain inquiries concerning Mr.
Lacroix.
CHAPTER III.
I bad in all this abundant food for
rumination during the next two or
three weks. Bat I had little time for
rumination and no time at all for visits
to Tipmerley Hall until Whitsuntide
was past. Whitsuntide is the great
festival in the Lancashire calendar.
Then mills and pits are idle for a
week, and the work people have a spell
of serious enjoyment, and wearing of
new summer clothing, for which money
has been saved from Christmastide or
earlier. Some go on jaunts to the sea
side for the week or for a day or two;
but the recreations and dissipations of
the multitude are those connected with
the Sunday schools, which are gigantic
and popular institutions; the time and
attention (often to little purpose) that
clergymen are expected to give to. them
can hardly be conceived by those who
hold cures in the south. One day there
is a grand procession round the parish
of scholars and their friends arrayed
in their new finery, accompanied by
flaunting banners and a blatant brass
band, and headed by their clergyman.
The procession halts at fixed points,
forms into mass and sings hymns, led
by the brass band, while the banners
take up positions to display their hide
ous devices and pictures. For another
day a short excursion in wagons, with
tea or milk and buns, and games are
arranged for the benefit especially- of
the younger scholars; and for a third
day a long railway excursion for the
others. All these arrangements I - had
to undertake (some of them much
against the grain, I confess; for I pre
fer to go through the parish as through
life, unaccompanied by instruments of
brass) to undertake alone, along with
all the duties more properly parochial
and clerical ; for the rector was still too
ill to attend to anything.
For three weeks or so, therefore, I
had no time to rumintae upon extrane
ous matters, and no time to spend at
Timperley Hall. But I then made an
acquaintance that considerably influ
enced the later events of my story Mr.
Freeman, the minister of a quaint lit
tle Dissenting Chapel in the village.
We encountered first on the day of the
procession in the Lacroix lane. He
was marching along from the opposite
direction to us at the head of his mod
est and silent troop ; the lane was nar
row; he halted, took off his hat, and
smiled (while I could do no less in re- j
turn), and he and his people (some of
them with reluctance, I have no doubt)
stood aside to let our noisier and more
imposing procession pass. That was
our introduction. When the Whitsun
tide matters were all disposed of, he
called on me one evening to ask me to
be chairman at a lecture he was about
to deliver in the little public hall of the
village on some point of the land ques
tion. I was somewhat taken aback by
his request, and I suppose I ehowed
that I was.
"You are surprised, I daresay, Mr.
Unwin," said he, with a little con
strained laugh (he was a bright, genial
little man, with a big, red beard). "I
I will explain why I ask you? because,
I understand, you, like myself, come
from the south, where pure streams.
and clear skies, and healthy trees may
be seen, but especially because I be
lieve you are the only man in the
neighborhood who holds somethig like
the same opinions as I do; my friend
Mr. Birley, has told me of the talks he
has had with you about the way our
Lancashire friends treat nature."
"Your friend, Mr. Birley," I ex
claimed. "Yes," said he, with a comical twin
kle in his eye, "Mr. Birley and I meet
not on theological, but on simplv
human common ground, and he is the
friend of everyone who knows his good
heart."
I began to like my visitor. I agreed
to act as his chairman, and we then
settled down to talk.
On the evening of the lecture I took
my place on the platform in a consid
erable flutter of nervousness. There
was a large attendance of work folk,
with a fair sprinkling of well-to-do peo
ple from the neighborhood, brought to
gether, I suppose, as much by curiosity
to see two parsons of conflicting creeds
together as by interest in the subject
of the lecture. I observed on a back
seat Mrs. Steinhardt and Frank, Miss
Lacroix and our friend, Mr. Birley.
Steinhardt himself was not there. On
rising I was astonished to find myself
greeted with rounds of applause, and
on explaining in a few words how I
came to be where I was, I was cheered
with such hearty vociferation,-- that I
concluded I had become, without know
ing it, a popular personage. I accepted
the explantion Mr. Freeman gave me
afterward: "It was a brave and risky
thing to do, you know, to appear with
me; and these Lancashire folk above
all things admire a bit of pluck against
odds."
CHAPTER IV.
This adventure with Mr. Freeman
had results that I had not foreseen ; but
that I might have guessed had I con
sidered sufficiently the situation in
which I had placed myself results
which at the time caused me some
anxiety, yet which, in the end, proved
much to my advantage. Mr. Stein
hardt, of course, heard of it, and took
an early opportunity of calling me to
task with characteristic German I may
pel haps say, Bismarck ian bmsquerie.
I had been asked to dine at Timperley
Hall. He said little during dinner,
but I found his eye on me several times.
When the ladies withdrew from the
table, he sent Frank after them. Then
he opened upon me at once.
"What the deuce, Mr. TJnwin, is' this
vou've been doing with that ass, Free
man?" i
I starec. -n speechless surprise lest
at the actual question than at its dic
tatorial tone. His complexion was
usually very ruddy ; it now became a
curious purplish red, even to bis eyes
and his bald crown, as if he had been
dipped in a vat of his choicest dye.
"You mustn't do that kind of thing,
yoa know, you'll spoil your chances in
the church; and, more than that, I
can't have you and him disturbing my
workpeople, and setting them against
me. I can't say anything to him, but
I must tell vou I can't have it; it won't
do at all." "
"I don't know," I answered, "what
rightr you have, Mr. Steinhardt, to talk
to me in this fashion."
I was angry. He moved about the
glasses and decanters near him.
"What right? Your salary comes
out of my pocket; your rector can't pay
it."
"That," said I, "is a matter between
you and the rector, sir."
"Perhaps it is. But I want to tell
you that I must be master in this vil
lage; and if you are bent upon interfer
ing with me, or between me and the
people, yon shah go away that's all.
iod Keep to your preachings, ana your
visitmgs, and your tea meetings," . he
continued, in a tone, doubtless, meant
to be placatory, "and you will do' very
well."
"I take it to be my duty, Mr. Stein
hardt," I replied ,"to concern myself
with whatever affects the welfare of the
people; and, to my mind, the dreadful
condition of the valley, and "
"Oh, d d sentimental nonsense!"
he exclaimed. "The valley is here for
us to make money out of the best way we
can."
"It is, of course, of no consequence
that I don't agree with you," said I;
' but as to what I shall think or say on
these or any other matters, I can cer
tainly take no orders from you, sit
You must excuse me saying it."
"very wen. lie sat a moment in
silence, fingering his glass; he seemed
not to have expected this conclusion.
Then he rose and said, as if he were
quite unconscious of having treated me
with rudeness. "We had better join
the ladies."
"If you will excuse me," said I, "I
think I must say good night."
jiin:" ne looked at " me in some
surprise. "Oh, you should talk to the
women a little while at anv rate. But
just as you please."
The invitation was exasperatingly
unconcerned, but, thinking this waa
but his babituaally churlish Teutonic
way, and that if I did not appear in the
drawing room the ladies might be dis
tressed, I accompanied him. Both of
the ladies glanced at me rather curi
ously; probslTfly I showed signs of dis
composure... Soon Mr. Steinhardt with
drew to his study and his pipe.
"You've been having words with
Emmanuel, Mr. Unwin," said Mrs.
Steinhardt, almost as soon as her hus
band was gone. "It's all about that
dreadful lecture affair, I suppose. He
thinks you've gone against him in it,
and Emmanuel can't bear to be gone
against." (The good lady always pro
nounced her husband's name with a
lofty sense of its scriptural prestige.)
"I do not see" said I, still rather
sore, "that Mr. Steinhardt should ex
pect to have his own way everywhere
and in everything, any more than an
other man."
"Mr. Steinhardt," said Miss Lacroix,
"is now alone in his authority, now
that father is gone, and he is by his
nature what you would say a despot
oh, yes, dear Mrs. Steinhardt, he is if
any one is not obedient to him he is
not nice at all. He said hard, rude,
cruel things to vou, Mr. Unwin in
deed, yes," said she in answer to my
look of surprise, "I know he did; I felt
him saying them all the time and be
sides, I saw him saying them with his
eyes all dinner time. But you must
not trouble about his words; they come
from his nature, which he cannot help,
I suppose."
"What things, to be sure, you do
say, Louise!" exclaimed Mrs. Stein
hardt. "and what eyes you have got!
My word!"
(To be continued)
Would Accept Mrs. Davis' Offer.
The Mobile (Ala.) Register advises
the legislature of Mississippi to accept
Mrs. Davis' offei and buy Beanvoir,
Jefferson Davis' late home. The house
and grounds have, it is said, been ne
glected nd ill-kept, only "a custodian
residing upon the premises and gather
ing what fees he can from chance vis
itors. Zest for Sewing.
Englishwomen have taken up the
"charity sewing clubs" with renewed
zest since the return of the Duchess of
York from her tour of the British co
lonial possessions. The Ophir brought
home an astonishing number of frocks,
flannel petticoats and wraps that the
future queen' had taken the time to cut
and make during her trip, assisted by
her ladies in waiting.
Hundreds of Popes.
There have been 258 popes from
St.
Peter to Leo XIII, inclusive. One
of
them, Adrian IV (llo4), was an Eng
lishman, Nicholas Breakesbeare, who
was born a beggar, but lived to crown
the German Emperor Barbarossa, and
died the most powerful potentate on
earth. Six have been Germans. Xear
lv all the rest have been Italians.
Pecularity of a Family
Mrs. Susan Hollowav, a resident of
Cicinnati, has three brothers and two
sisters, and all of them have six fingers
on each hand. Mrs. Hollowav has iust
given birth to a baby girl who has a
similar redundancy. Mrs. Hollowav's
mother and grandmother were also dec
orated in the same way, as is her broth
er's infant son.
John Daniell, a yew York merchant.
kept his marriage a secret for 34 years.
His will revealed it.
Grandma in Demand.
Little blue-eyed namesake Helen comes
to see me every day.
Just at twilight, when my work Is done,
and she is tired of play; "
Brings her footstool close beside me, nes
tles up against nsy knee.
Coaxing "Grandma, tell me 'bout when
you was little just like me.
"Tell me how you wtnt to school when
you were only four years old,
And studied 'Peter Parley and arithme
tic, and told . ' a' . -
The names of all the Presidents; how you
played behind tie seat
When the teacher daln't see you and
hid apples there to eat.
"Tell me how you had your playhouse on
a rock under the tree,
With acorn cups and saucers, when you
made believe drink tea;
And the bits of broken dishes, and the
pebbles in a row
Oh, what lovely times they used to have
so very long ago!
"Tell me how you sewed your patch
work, squares of yellow, blue and
red,
And j our mother, sitting by, would some
times rap your little head
With her thimble, very-gently, 'cause the
stitches were too wide;
How you did your linen sampler, and
your knitting 'stent' besides.
"And, oh, grandma! tell me all about the
time you ran away
And hid under the spare-room bed, be
cause you heard them say
A Mr. Peter someone was coming up the
street
You thought 'twas Peter Weter, but
'twas only Peter Fleet!
"And how you went a-visiting to see your
grandma, too;
And the cousins that she lived with, Ab-
ner, Mary, Kate and Sue;
How she always beckoned you to come
and stand beside her chair,
While she found some 'per'mints' in her
bag that she didn't know were
there.
"How you hunted in the orchard for ripe
Pearmains, and tire rest;
Played in the granary chamber, and the
attic (that was best);
Then you sat upon fte cricket and
watched Aust Svphronia spin.
Oh, you had such good times, grandma!
I am waiting, please begin!"
Farm and Home.
Mrs. Specklespot.
Mrs. Specklespot was so worried!
who wouldn't be, with fourteen chil
dren to take care of? She had never
done such a thing before, for it was
only a year ago that she was a little
chicken herself, waiting for her mother
to show her where to find the best
things to eat. She almost wished now
she had not run away from the chick
en yard and stole a nest out In the
weeds behind the barn. She had done
this because It was almost impossible
to get together a nice lot of eggs; some
one came and stole them every day.
She had once complained about it to
Mr. Cock-of-the-Roost. He didn't ap
pear a bit disturbed about it, but told
her to cheer up and "Cock'll do what
he can do." He didn't do anything,
and so Mrs. Specklespot took matters
into her own hands (or feet), moved
MRS. S. HELPS HEK3ELF.
out of the chicken yard and started
a nest strictly her own.
Unlike most hens, Mrs. Specklespot
knew how to hold her tongue, and not
a single cackle did she say to disclose
the hiding place of her eggs. She did
not even tell any of the other hens
and roosters, for she did not want them
prying about.
"The hens are a little short In their
laying," said the farmer's wife, as she
gathered the eggs each afternoon.
When Mrs. Specklespot had fourteen
fine eggs in her new nest she decided
that was all she could possibly keep
warm with her feathery wings; and it
was quite a stretch, indeed, to do that.
But she peresevered, and her reward
was, as you saw in the beginning of
this story, fourteen beautiful little
downy chicks the prettiest babies you
ever saw.
When she discovered that they were
pecking their way through their shells
she was too delighted for words, so she
just said "cluck-cluck," softly.
The first thing to be done was to find
them some food, and she knew that
the big worms she thought so delicious
would choke the babies. It was all
cosy and warm in the nest, and the
sun shone down upon the chickens so
kindly that the mother ran off for a
few minutes to find something to eat
"Baby chicks are usually fed with soft
food," she said to herself, as she hur
ried toward the house. "I'll just see
what I can find. Grains of corn are
too large for them.'
Pink and Posy, the twins, were sit
ting on the doorstep each eating a
beautiful fresh sugar cooky which
mother had Just taken from the oven.
and they were delicious; the only
trouble was that Posy's cookie looked
bigger than Pink's. . .-
"You ought to give me a bit to make
It even," said Pink. "
Posy didn't agree.
"You're a greedy boy, she Bald, not
very politely.
"You're selfish r cried Pink, "eating
all that great cookie by yourself. Why,
It's twice as big as mine!"
And Just as he said the last word he
felt a little tug at his hand, and In a
second Mrs. Specklespot wag almost
flying toward the barn with a beauti
ful, sweet, soft warm cookie In her
bill, followed by several of her neigh
bors' children.
"Cluck-cluck, darlings!" she cried, as
she broke it np on the edge of the nest
"That stupid boy was so impolite be
deserved to lose his cookie. Wasn't it
lucky he didn't follow me?"
The little chickens thought so as they
pecked daintily at the crumbs.
Pink shook his fist at Mrs. Speckle
spot as she disappeared, and Posy,
breaking his cookie In two, gave Pink
the bigger piece. Philadelphia Times,
How He Found Out.
School teachers sometimes ask their
pupils queer questions. If one may be
lieve a story told by the youngest mem
ber of the Wlthlngton family.
His mother one morning discovered
a shortage in her supplies of pies, baked
the day before, and her suspicions fell
upon Johnny.
"Johnny," she said, "do you know
what became of that cherry pie that
was on the second self In the pantry?"
"Yes, ma'am," he replied. "I ate It
But I had to."
"You had to!" exclaimed his astonish
ed mother. "What do you mean, child?'
"The teacher asked yesterday If any
of us could tell how many stones there
are in a cherry pie, and I couldn't find
out without eating the whole pie, could
I? There's Just 142."
All the Rest Belnjr Laid Up.
A little 4-year-old miss, being told to
pray for her father, who was absent;
her small brother, who was ill, and the
servant, who had sprained her ankle,
did so, and to her mother's astonish
ment concluded as follows:
"And now, God, please take good care
of yourself, for if anything happens to
you we'll all be in the soup."
Little Ethel's Grace.
Little Ethel has been taught to say
grace at meals. The other evening she
looked disgustedly at the table upon
which all her pet aversions seemed to
be spread. She bowed her head and said
scornfully: "For pity sake! Amen."
The Baby's Rations.
"Our baby has teeth." said little Mar
gie, "and yours hasn't" -
"He don't need any," replied little
Nan. "We feed him soup out of a bot
tie."
A Wonderful Man.
Willie You think your papa can do
everything, but I'll bet he can't see
with his eyes shut.
Harry I don't know about that; but
mamma says he talks In his sleep.
Had the Souvenir Craze.
The desire for souvenirs upon the
part of the large crowds lined along
the railroad tracks at every point was
a distinctive feature of the McKinley
funeral train. The most popular of all
the methods adopted was the placing
of coins on the tracks so that the train
might pass over them, smashing flat
the pieces of money as a mark of iden
tification in years to come. This prac
tice was not confined to any particular
point or crowd, but was indulged in
generally along the route.
The mutilated coins were afterward
gathered up by their owners and dis
played with much pride. Coins of dif
ferent denominations aggregating at
least several hundred dollars were
strewn along the track at the Union
station. Even these relic hunters
seemed to appreciate the occasion and
surroundings and instead of making a
rush for their property as soon as the
train had passed, waited until it was
out of sight before picking up the
crushed coins.
At Roup station, says the Pittsburg
Post a wealthy resident of the Shady
side district, placed a $10 gold piece
upon the rail. The approach of the
train started to shake it off, but It
managed to remain long enough to
have just a small portion of It nipped
off as if done by a knife. The owner
is quite a collector of souvenirs and
oddities and when he picked up his
coin he stated It would occupy the
most prominent and conspicuous place
in his large collection.
Proper Temperature.
A story is told of a Boston lawyer
whose quick wit never deserted him,
either in the court room or elsewhere.
One day a client entered his office,
and throwing back his coat, said, ir
ritably: "Why, your office, sir, is as hot as an
oven!''
"Why shouldn't it be?" was the calm
response. "It's here that I make my
bread."
. Bullsnake as Rat Catcher.
The Mexican snake is being used in
Washington as a rat-catcher.
If a man is inclined to lead a fast life
he should lead it to the nearest hitch
ing post and tie it.
It was an Irish philosopher who said:
"Idleneu clothes a man with nakedness.'
Valuable Farm Grasses.
Two of the most valuable grasses for
use on the farm in the making of both
permanent pastures and sowing for
hay are meadow fescue and Kentucky
blue grass, the former shown on the
right side of the illustration. Both of
these grasses are productive and ex
ceedingly nutritious, and both quite
tenacious of life, this being the case
particularly with the Kentucky blue
grass which grows uninjured by the
tramping of stock, hence is particularly
valuable in the making of permanent
pastures.
The best grass mixtures put up by
reputable seedsmen contain one or both
of these grasses, and these mixtures
TWO VALUABLE GRASSES.
should be used in preference to !ome
mixtures in all cases, except where one
or two grasses are wanted for some
particular purpose and one understands
thoroughly their requirements.
' Baying Small Fiait Plants.
By the proper selection of the young
plants it is easy and cheap to increase
the acreage of either strawberries or
red raspberries; if one is skilled in the
work it Is also possible to get a good
supply of black cap plants from tips.
It is not so easy, however, to Increase
the blackberry plantation. There Is
more or less argument over the rela
tive value of suckers and root cuttings.
If the plants are diseased, and this ap
plies to any plant, it is not wise to
take young plants from them In any
way for the result will be to spread
the disease. If the parent plants can
not be rid of disease, then it is better
to buy the young plants needed to ex
tend the plantation. Last year it was
noticed in some sections that the San
Jose scale had attacked the raspberry
plants. In such cases the treatment is
to cut the plants back to within a few
inches of the ground and spray the
remainder of the canes with a solution
of two pounds of whale oil soap to
each gallon of hot water.
Home-Hade Corn Cutter.
Being desirous of cutting some corn
for fodder on which the grasshoppers
had destroyed the prospects for grain,
I rigged my slide about two and one-
half feet wide and three feet long; run
ners made of 2x6 inches and two cross
pieces 2x4 Inches, the rear one pro
jecting over about fifteen inches on one
side of the runner. At the end of this
piece I fastened one end of a common
buck saw. and the other end of saw to
front part of slide, so the saw would
project over the outside an angle of
forty-five degrees. I fastened a single
tree to the front part and made a seat
on slide. After hitching a good horse
to the slide with a boy to drive, I cit
by the boy and caught the stalks of
corn as they were sawed off above the
ground, and piled them as we proceed
ed up the rows. We cut five acres a day
and piled It nicely ready to be shocked.
This is much cheaper than a high-price
corn cutter and excels hand-cutting
more than the corn machine excels the
slide. H. A. Halbert, in Agricultural
Epitomlst
Cutting: Seed Potatoes.
As long as different men grow dif
ferent varieties of potatoes on differ
ent soils, just so long will there be dif
ferences of opinion as to the
size proper for cutting the seed
tuber. Success with the sin
gle eye for seed comes oftenest when
the soil is In the best possible condition
for potato growing and when the seed
tubers that are cut are sound, of av
erage size and of a strain that is not
run down. By cutting the single eyes
from the center of a potato of average
size and cutting in block form we get
first-class seed, but the pieces at either
end X the tuber, frequently have two
HOME-MADE C0E2? CUTTER.
or three eyes. If the soil Is not rich
and in good tilth or if the seed can not
be planted early, then one had best
not depend upon the single eye plan.
IOok Over the Seed Corn.
When it Is considered that corn Is ene
of the easiest crops to grow on soil
that is fairly good and that it will re
spond liberally to good cultivation and
to enrichment of the soil, one ought to
be willing to go to some trouble aad
expense to have the seed corn of the
best possible quality. In certain sec
tions of the corn country there was
considerable smut last season, and
there is more or less of it on the corn
now being fed and on ears that are be
ing saved for seed. This smut corn
ought not to be fed to stock, for the
spores are not destroyed, but are
sown over the fields In the manure.
If a portion of the seed corn ears are
affected with smut they should be
treated by soaking for a half hour In
a solution of sulphate of copper In the
proportion of half a pound of the
chemical to a gallon of water. Treat
the corn In this way just before it is to
be used and let it dry thoroughly be
fore sowing. Avoid this smut com for
seed, however. If it Is possible to do so.
Select for seed the ears which are best
developed or buy enough of some good
strain to start anew and next summer
select the seed corn while It is on the
stalk, paying due attention to all of the
good features of both ears and stalk.
Keep up this careful selection for two
or three years, and give this selected
seed good soil and good culture and
one will then have corn that is well
worth planting and which will bring a
good profit
Dainties for Hogs.
A correspondent who has been very
successful In raising hogs of the bacon
variety for market writes that he
makes it a practice to haul in during
the late fall and at any time during
the winter he can cut it, all of the old
sod he can get. This sod is stored la
a shed and twice a week it is placed
in a clean corner of the hog pen in
quantities so that each animal will
have a piece a foot square. This man
also burns corn cobs when he has
them, making charcoal for the benefit
of the hogs. Both of these plans are
good, for something of the kind is re
quired to keep up the tone of the stom
ach and keep the hogs in good growing
condition and this is especially applic
able to hogs that are largely corn fed.
If this suggestion was generally fol
lowed there would be little or no eating
of the young by sows which in some
sections occurs yearly.
The Gibson Strawberry.
FARM 6 660flo gniGal70Fi.T i ! !!!
Fruit growers will be Interested In
the promising strawberry Gibson. It
is a product of New York State, where
it has been fruited
for a number of
years with great
satisfact ion. It
has also been test
ed, 1 n a small
way. In other sec
tions of the coun
try, both North
and South, and
seems to be thor-
THE "GIBSON."
onghly worthy of general cultivation.
It is a perfect flowering sort, and the
plants are large, strong-growing and
healthy. The fruit is large, uniform in
shape, as will be seen from the illustra
tion, firm and of that high crimson
color so desirable in a strawberry. The
fruit picks large from first to last a
strong point in its favor. It Is as a ship
per, however, that the Gibson excels.
Think About This.
The heavy producing cow Is what
concerns the dairyman most, says an
exchange. Suppose you have a cow
that produces 158 pounds of butter a
year at 17 cents a pound, she would
bring $25.50. This is almost the cost
of the feed. On the other hand, if yoa
keep a cow that will produce 300
pounds of butter in a year at 17 cents
a pound she will net you 551. Think
about this and read, mark and learn.
General Farm Notes.
Look over the farm implements to see
if repairs are needed. Then repair
them, and not wait until they come
into use.
Is your cellar properly ventilated?
Most cellars are damp and the air Im
pure and are not healthy. The family
lives over the cellar usually and should
not be required to breathe Impurities.
There is a difference In men as well
as in animals. Some will get more
profit from a given animal and a given
amount of food than will another. Is
not that your experience?
Wheat bran Is valuable not alone for
its nutrition. It is an excellent alterna
tive for stock fed on meadow hay. For
milch cows It should be made Into a
mash.
Persian officials say they need agri
cultural implements of the American
kind.
Plant breeding, the making of new
things from old, just now greatly occu
pies the attention of skillful horticul
turists. JWool Is the farm product that brings
the most money in proportion to what
it takes from the farm.
The cause of "little peach" Is be
lieved to be a fungus which attacks the
very young roots.