RVA
SEMI-WEEKLY,
rxiov E.t.b. Joly. 1897. ( f nncnHHafort Vah 4900
COEVAIiLlS, BENTON COUNTY, OREGON", TUESDAY, MAY 13, 1902.
GAZETTK K.fab.
b. Dec. 1863. ( vvuauiiuuiKU lbu.f JUKI,
VOIi. III. NO. 3.
CO
GAZETTE.
I HERR STEINHARDT'S NEMESIS 1
BY J. MACLAREN COBBAN.
CHAPTER VI Continued.
I took this as a dismissal, and was
going.
"Unwin, bide, lad," said Birley.
. "I want you to be witness cf what I
have to say: I may as well say it now;
it's been bound to come for a long
while. You Kee that man there that
foreigner, that German that grinds
our Lancashire folk small under his
great clumsy boot, and that threatens
now to ruin me that's what he means
by saying I'll repent this I took him
into my office when he was a raw lad,
with no recommend but that he was
willing to work ; I gave him a better
place in my print works; I was h
friend; I treated him like a brother.
The dear old man's voice well nigh
broke ; it was not pleasant to see tl
unrelenting, uncompromising malignity
with which Steinhardt listened
gave him money to get him a partner
ship with Paul "
"Which I paid) back," inteirupted
Steinhardt.
"Ay, lad,' said Birley, "you paid
me back more than that; you paid me
back for all I did in your own way
you took my print works from me-
"Your own mad extravagance did
that."
"You set my friend Paul against
me," continued Birley, waving away
his interrruption ; . "you've got my
other shop now almost into your
bands "
"Your bad management has done
that."
"You've done with Paul's money
if it were your own; and you ve pro
posed to me that I should agree to your
taking that 20,000 pounds of the law
suit from his girl's fortune."
"Sob!" growled Steinhardt, becom
ing more uerman in his rage. It is
now done! There is an end I We are
no more to each other!"
"I know that, 'Manuel, my lad
And you're glad of it, and so, I think
am I. And now you may finish me off
but you shall not beggar the orphan
girl. Now my say is done. You're
very proud tonight of having deceived
an English court of law; but don't you
holloa so loud till you're out of The
wood; vou haven't done yet with law
nor with Lancashire."
The old man turned and lcft the
room, looking ten years older; he
seemed to falter in his step, and the
usually ruddy tints in his face had died
out, leaving his cheeks and lips of an
ashy hue. I followed him without
word. In the hall betook his hat;
did the same and accompanied him in
silence from the house and through the
village; I would have seen him home
but he insisted on my leaving him when
my lodgings were reached.
I went indoors, but I could not stay
I was in the wildest perturbation of
feeling which, I think, I had ever ex
perienced. The close air of my little
pitting room stifled me, and when I left
it the air of the village oppressed me
almost as much. I could not, strive as
I would to turn my attention to other
things, get rid of the burning impres
sion of that painful scene in the dining
room of Iimperley Hall. My resent
ment of the brusque treatment I had
myself experienced from Steinhardt
was keen; but it was nothing compared
with the indignation I felt at the ter
ribly pathetic tale of ingratitude re
vealed by old Birley 's words; and that
again had to give place to a feeling of
horrible dread and loathing of that un-
crupulous, overbearing German ruffian
I had watched him closely, even with a
certain fascination of inteutuess, and
throughout the scene I had caught not
so much as the wink of an eyelid or the
movement of a single nerve or muscle
indicative of anything but the most un
wavering determination to assert him
sen ana nis win, no matter what came
in the way. I was appalled, I may say
frankly, terrified at the exhibition of
such remorseless inhumanity all the
more so that I did not find it out of
keeping with anything I had before
known of the man. If auother stood
in his way, he would not merely tread
on his toes with a crunch of his big
boot; lie would lift him in his strong
German arms and fling him aside. He
had "eaten up" his old friend Birley,
ironi no email vinuictiveness, it was
evident, but from an all-devouring self
aggrandizement. And what greater
enormity would he hesitate to commit,
so long as it brought him nearer his
chief end? To what did all this vague
dread and surmise tend? To mv horror
I found that the suspicion of what had
been Lacroix's fate, which had hitherto
been whirling and curling in my imag
ination like a lurid vapor, was now
assuming definite shape and settling
upon Steinhardt! Why should he have
done to death his partner? I could not
tell; I could scarcely make a guess
worth the name. If he had, was the
method of it such as had been indicated
in Pick's confession? If he had how,
where had he bestowed the traces of
the crime?
CHAPTER VII.
Next evening I went to Freeman's,
who was going away for his holiday the
second morning alter. I wished to re
mind Freeman of his promise to make
inquiries in Ixmdon concerning Mr. La
croix, and especially to underline cer
tain places for inquiry. The reader
will understand why I advised Mr.
Freeman to institute careful inquiry at
the stations of the great railway lines
that run northward from London most
careful inquiry at the station of the
Great Northern Railway; but Mr. Free
man did not readily understand why I
should urge these points.
"Cotue." said he, looking at me
hard, and in evident Burprise, "what's
in yonr noddle now? what new sus
picion have yon worked up?"
"Don't look so surprised at me," I
was piqued into saying, when I felt
his sober scrutiny would be turned
upon my structure of evidence I doubted
for the time its coherence-and stability
and this doubt in myself I resented:
1 am quite sane and serious. I have
had borne in' upon me the impression
1 can t quite say how it came that
Lacroix left London that night "
"What night?"
Thursday, March the sixteenth of
last year. Miss Lacroix has told me
he was at his hotel, it has been found
on that day."
"I hadn't heard the date named be
fore."
I then told him how, on turning over
the pages of my Bradshaw, I had dis
covered the existence of a very late
train from London.
"But," said he, '"there are trains
almost as late on other lines."
"But not so quick," said I.
"Besides," said he, "you don't know
that the train you mention was running
more than a year ago.
iSo; I do not." I was a little put
out. bull I urged, "I have, however,
another strong reason which I do not
think I am quite at liberty to tell you
at present why I believe my specula
tion that he left London that night
may turn out true.
"Left for home, I suppose y,ou think?
But why should he suddenly set off
home late at night without intima
tion?"
I cannot tell. But might he not,
for instance, have heard somehow, or
nave suspected, mat tsteinnardt was
still using the patent they had been
fined so heavily for infringing? It is
clear, surely, from this recent law
affair, that Steinhardt has never left off
using it."
"Of course," said he. looking very
serious and meditative, "that certainly
might be. But," he continued in a
new tone of alarm, "what does all this
speculation mean? You surelv haven't
let your suspicion go so far as to im
agine poor Lacroix came home to to
find a violer i death? Have you really
let yourself th'yik so morbidly of things
as to suspect Steinhardt of causing it?
He, I know, is without much scruple of
conscience hut that, my friend, is al
together too horrible! too incredible!
Besides, why" he stopped, but I
could see what he would say in the
careful, considering look he gave me. -
ies,"eaidl, "I know; you think
why should I imagine that this should
have remained undiscovered unsus
pected, if you like for a year, only for
me to find out, or suspect me, a man
of no extraordinary perception or dis
crimination."
Well, Unwin," said he, "I will
confess I did think something like that.
lou must excuse me.
Certainly. But I don't pretend to
have lighted on the things that make
me suspect through my own shrewd
ness of suspicion; I don't pretend to be
the mover in the matter at all. In
deed, when I look back over the few
months I have been here, I am sur
prised to see how the several points of
my suspicion have been aljnost forced
on my attention in ways that appear to
me quite unusually providential." -
rreeman turned and looked throueh
the window, very grave and thoughtful.
It is perhaps," said I, now roused
to a considerable pitch of feeilng, "not
a very Christian doctrine, but I believe,
or I imagine, there is a conscious divine
vengeance that broods upon the "world.
and that takes severe note of the per
sistent evil deeds of evil doers, and
marks them out for unrelenting min-
shment, secret or open, slow or swift.
and that chooses its instruments, or
agents, of punishment in a fashion of
its own.
"Good gracious! Unwin what a
dreadful belief!"
I don't think you would have much
to say sgAinst it if vou had been with
me last night in the dining room of
Timperley Hall, and seen our dear
friend Birley moved almost to tears be
fore that German ruffian, and then seen
him leave the house a ruined and heart
broken man."
He sat in silent amazement; and I
related the scene I had witnessed.
After hearing all that," I said.
'and seeing how Steinhardt behaved
and looked, I can believe any cruelty or
wickedness of him. I do not think
that even you now will consider my
horrible suspicion so preposterous.
I- reemau sat silent, pulling his biz
beard.
I think," said he at length, with a
thin smile, "nature after all can't have
ntended me for a criminal investi
gator: I couldn't find it in me to
think any human being capable of such
a crime as that then perhaps vou
would say Steinhardt is not a human
being ; he is onfy a foreigner sent for
our sins to poison us with his diabol
ical chemistry.
As I said, the instinct of detection,
or suspicion even, is not very strong in
me. But I will do my best for you in
London."
And," said I, "I think I can make
particular inquiry at King's Cross
easier tor you. I used to be verv
friendly with an official there of high
tanding; I will write to him."
I wrote to my old friend as soon as I
returned to my lodgings; I related the
circumstances of Lacroix's disappear
ance, and mentioned the suspicion,
wnich "those who are interested in his
fate entertain," that he really set out by
train, probably from King's Cross, to
return home, and asked him to be so
good as to give such help as he could to
my friend Freeman in bis attempt to '
find out whether that were so or not.
It was very late next morning on re
turning along the Lacroix Lane from
me lime Elation to winch 1 nad ac
companied Freeman and his wife that I
met Louise near the pond again. She
came toward me at once with a look of
premeditation.
VI have been looking for you," said
she. (How sweet those words sounded.)
I knew you were gone to the station.
I have something I wish to sav ; will
you come with me into Uncle Jacques's
cottage? we shall be there safe from
being watched."
What suspicion, I wondered,
prompted that? I entered the little
octagonal building for the first time,
and was immediately in the presence of
the old paralytic, who sat huddled and
wrapped in Dianuets in a great arm
chair, with his lifeless hands lying
limp in his lap. It was with a strange
leeling of pity, and something like awe,
that I looked upon this feeDle, almost
lifeless, remnant of a famous historic
family, spending the last flickers of his
existence in a humble cottage in a for
efgn land. A single flash of fancy was
enough to show me behind him a long
line of warriors, statesmen, courtiers,
and priests of the old French regime,
from which stood out near the end the
figure of the white haired old soldier of
the Bastile falling slaughtered amid
the Paris mob and that the glory, and
honor, and courage of the past should
end in this and here! Was it not
sufficient to fill the heart with an un
utterable sadness and despair of life?
His eyes were bright, but there seemed j
to be no speculation in them; his
toothless gums mumbled, but no sound
was uttered.
He cannot speak a word," said
Louise to me; "and I do not think he
can quite hear now;" but for all that
she spoke in a low voice. "He "looks
better, though, since the summer be
gan, poor Uncle Jacques. The old man
wno iooks alter mm is gone out, so we
may talk as if there were no one here."
She threw off her hat and jacket, for
the air of the room was very close : a
small fire burned in the grate. I felt
impelled to sit so that I could observe
the old man without turning, for his
appearance fascinated me.
I want to go away, Mr. Unwin,"
she began at once in a low tone of in
tense feeling, "out of this terrible
place, away from the despot, Mr. Stein
hardt ; I want to go and find out what
has become of my poor father, and I
want you to help.me to go, if you will
be so good."
"Has Mr. Steinhardt, then," I asKed,
been saying or doing something to
you?" i . .
- vn, yes. indeed! lesterdav, you
know, I saw Mr. Biriev, and he said
very sadly, almost with tears, that he
must not come to see me any more. I
asKea mm wny and tnen it all came
out: he told me you know it all how
Mr. Steinhardt has been so terribly un
grateful, how he has ruined him. His
name, he said, would appear any day
now in the Gazette. In the evening.
then, I told Mr. Stienhardt that I
wanted some of my money, or of my
lather s money, to help Mr. Birley,
ne laugned and said l nad no monev.
andwhat little of my father's was left
could not be touched till his death was
proved. I then, I think, was angry
and called him inerate: and he was
angry, in his way, and rude. He called
me a rude, immodest girl. He said I
thought of men before they asked me
( I don't know at all what he meant)
He told me I must make up my mind
to marry Frank, as he wished and as
my father had wisehd, or I should not
stay long in his house. I said, my
lather would have never wished me to
marry anyone without love. He
answered, that was of no consequence
he was now in my father's place, I
left him and went to mv room, and.
thinking it over, it came to me how he
must have disliked my poor father, if
he could speak to me so, and how he,
perhaps, did not much wi.sh to have
father's death cleared up. Then I
thought that it was likely he had not
taken much trouble to inquire about
him in London all that, you see, was
in his hands. But now I will go to
London myself, away from his rude'
ness, and find out the whole matter for
myself if you will help me
(To be continued)
For French Academicians.
The French Academy has appropri-
i - i i . , . . .
uieu a sum ior me maintenance of an
album in which three photographs of
every immortal one showing the full
face and two the profile will be care
fully preserved. When an academician
dies it l-i usual to adorn what may be
callfd the literary Hotel des Invalides
wnh his bust, but occasionally the
sculptor experiences difficulty in find
ing a trustworthy representation of the
departed great.
Immense Output of Petroleum.
If all the petroleum produced last
year in the L'nited States was put in
standard barrels, and the barrels placed
in a row touching each other, the line
would completely belt the earth.
Enough coal was reduced to give three
and one-half tons to every one of the
76,000,000 persons in the United
States, and enough gold to give every
American a gold dollar.
The Way to Keep Good.
Brooding over the evil that vou have
done will never correct that evil.
Rather will it make possible a repeti-
iion oi me ming awen upon, fc-et your
mind the other way. Think honest.
pure, kind, courageous thoughts all the
time, and your mind wjll have no time
for their oppoeites. Success.
Flag Has Peculiar Interest
General Eugene Griffin has in his
possession the American flag made by
the sailors in Lieutenant Gilmore'a
party out of notches atid stripes of their
clothing after their rescue from the in
surgent in the wildest part of Luzon.
Throwing the Lariat.
A good rawhide lariat costs from $8
to $25, and is therefore rather too ex
pensive for the average boy, but even
if it were within his reach jt would ba
of little use to him, for the regulation
lasso is from rty to fifty feet long,
and far too heavy for a beginner to
handle. There is perhaps no possession
of the cowboys more subject to varia-
tion than his lasso; what is exactly
suited to one seems altogether unfitted
for another, and without his own par
ticular style of rope a man loses half
his efficiency. I shall, therefore, in this
article, suggest several styles of rope
and each boy must select the one
which seems best adapted to him.
Ordinary clothesline does, not make a
good lasso. It Is rough and raw and
frays too easily. If, however, clothes
line is experimented with, use the slip
nosoe shown in figure I, or better.
splice the rope back as shown in figure
3. Linen tape may be braided into a
plendid rope, and even cotton tape is
an improvement on clothesline. Good,
smooth cord will make a very fair
lasso. Figure 5 shows a five-strand
braid, which is tery strong and pliable.
Take alternately each outside strand
HOW TO HAKE -A LABI AT.
and cross it over the two following
strands. The four-strand cording shown
In figure 6, to my mind, gives a better
shaped rope than the one just - de
scribed. The diagram itself Is the best
description I can give of four-strand
cording. Arrange them as shown, each
strand under the one next to it and
then pull them tight. About twenty-
five feet is the best length for a begin
ner. To make the loop in a braided rope
fasten the end back by means of the
endless tie shown in figure 2. When
the winding is completed put the end
(B) through the loop (C) and pull the
end (A) until the loop and end have en
tirely disappeared beneath the coil.
Then cut off the end (A) and the end
less tie is complete. In order to have
the rope run smoothly cover the loop
with canvas or some other strong cloth
as shown y figure 4.
Real rawhide ropes are burled under
ground for some two weeks and after
ward greased with mutton tallow to.
make them pliable. Two weeks under
ground will not improve a linen or
hemp rope, but the greasing I would
strongly advise; only be careful where
you hang up your lasso when not using
it, for grease has a very penetrating
quality.
The art of throwing a lariat cannot
be reduced to rule. No two men do it
alike. If you ask a cowboy to teach
you he will say that every man must
learn to do It for himself, by practice,
tie will De quite willing to snow you
how he throws the rope, but his style
will be quite different from the very
next cowboy you meet, and is certain
to be entirely different from the
method you finally adopt. The illustra
tion shows the characteristic position
assumed at the moment of delivery:
but it can only suggest; practice Is the
only master who can teach lasso throw
ing. Chicago Record.
Furnish a House on Paper.
One of the most absorbing amuse
ments possible to find for children Is
the making of scrap books. The raini
est of days may be made enjoyable
by a few large sheets of strong wrap
ping paper, cut In the size desired for
the book and folded Into two leaves.
with a collection of old magazines and
papers full of pictures.
A novel kind of scrap book recently
made represents a doll house, . each
page being a room. Advertisements
furnished the pictures, eaph article
illustrated being carefully cut out in
outline and pasted In an orderly man
ner on the page to which it belonged.
The kitchen has a range, table.
chairs, broom, cooking utensils, irons
and ironing board. In the drawlnz
room are sumptuous couches, chairs
and cabinets, with a perfect love of a
fireplace, and vases on the mantel.
Windows, doors and fireplaces for all
the rooms were found In the advertis
ing pages of magazines, and add great
ly to the charm of the surroundings.
New York Tribune.
They Watch the Milkman.
The Germans are careful about the
purity of the milk which they drink.
and have a novel device for assuring
themselves that the milkman will not
water or adulterate It. In Berlin ev
ery milk wagon Is divided Into com
partments, which are connected with
rows of faucets on the outside. At
the creamery the milk Is sterilized by
being passed through special appara-
tus, and then sorted Into grades sweet
milk, skim milk, cream, milk for ba
bies, and so forth-and the compart
ments are filled. Then the wagon Is
locsed ana tne muKman drives over
his route and delivers fromr the fau
cets nnder the watchful eyes of the
Berlin matrons, .
Mrs. Sed Squirrel.
Mrs. Red Squirrel sat in the top of a
tree.
"I believe in the habit of saving,'' said
she;
"If it were not for that, in the cold win
ter weather
I should starve, and my young ones,
know, altogether;
But I'm teaching my children to run and
lay up
Every acorn as soon as it drops from its
cup, -
And to get out the corn from the shocks
in the field
There's a nice hollow tree where I keep
if concealed.
e nave laid up some wheat and some
barley and rye,
And some very nice pumpkin seeds I
have put by;
Best of all we hare gathered in all that
we could
Of beechnuts and butternuts grown in
the wood;
ior cold days and hard times winter
surely will bring.
And a habit of saving 'a an excellent
thing.
But my children (you know how young
squirrels like to play),
'We have plenty, great plenty, already,'
they 11 say,
'We are tired of bringing in food for our
store;
Let us' all have a frolic and gather
more!'
But I tell them it's pleasant when winter
is rough,
If we feel both to use and to give we've
enough;
And they'll find ere the butternuts bloom
in the spring
That a habit of saving ' an excellent
thing."
Young Folks.
Lightning and Feathers.
There is a woman in the Adirondacks
who no longer believes that a feather
bed Is a protection against lightning.
Time was when she used to crawl un
der the bed in a storm or put a pillow
on her head. Now, says the New York
Tribune, - she simply sits and moans
until the lightning stops.
A New York woman who spent the
summer in the North Woods was one
of a party who took refuge In her hum
ble home. They rushed in out of a
blinding storm without, waiting to
knock. She was rocking back, and forth
in a chair and moaning as hard as she
knew" how. She had her apronover her
head and a tight grip on the' arms of
the chair. After a particularly brilliant
flash one of the strangers uttered a
shriek, and covered- her face with her
handkerchief.
The mountain woman was all sym
pathy. "Do you want a feather plller?"
she asked.
"The lightning is awful," replied the
other, "but I'm hardly frightened
enough for that."
"It's just as well," said the woman
of the house, again covering her head
with the apron. "I used to have faith
In them things, but something happen
ed last week which drove it all away.'
"And what was that?" asked one of
theparty.
"Two of my ducks got hit by a streak
o' lightnin' and stripped aa clean o'
feathers as pop's head, an' pop ain't
had a sign o' hair for nigh on ter fifteen
years." - f
Handed Over the Office.
Not many people stop to think that
one in. every 100 American voters is
fourth class postmaster. Yet such is
the case, and, as was suggested by an
official of the postoffice the other day.
there are some odd specimens of hu
manity among the lot, "Up in Ver
mont, said he, "I knew of an old fellow
who kept a store across the road from
the postoffice. There were two rival
stores at the cross roads and- they
fought each other pretty hard. The
postoffice was changed when Mr. Cleve
land was elected and went from its old
Republican stopping place to the estab
lishment across the way. One morn in
early In November the news came over
the mountains that Mr. Harrison had
been elected. Without a moment's
waiting the Republican storekeeper ran
across the road and burst into the store
kept by the Democrat. 'I get the post
office back!' he exclaimed. "Harrison's
been elected! Harrison's been, elected!'
And the Democrat handed over the
marking stamps and other supplies
without a word. The new postmaster
was appointed officially some months
later, but the actual transfer occurred
the day after the election and I don't
believe any one ever noticed it."
Not Worried by the Leak.
Strange replies are often received by
wives who wake their husbands for
burglar!, leaky water pipes, etc., in the
early morning. Mrs. C, wife of a cer
tain government official in Baltimore,
is decidedly nervous and has frequent
ly "heard things." One morning last
week she thought she smelled gas.
Bravery came to her mysteriously and
she crept down stairs to Investigate.
After smelling about for some minutes
she rushed upstairs, called Mr. C, then
shook -him. and at last aroused him.
Then this was heard:
John, there's a leak in the gas pipe
in the kitchen. We'll all die if it is not
fixed."
Leaks had been heard of before, and
Mr. C. sleepily asked:
"Is it a-leaking much now?"
"Xot much!" screamed his wife, and
then as Mr. C. turned over, this sooth
ing advice was given:
"Put a bucket under it and come tc
bed."
When the boarders begin to draw the
color line at hash the same old com
binatioa comes up in the guise of cro
quettes. i
j
Home-Made Clover Cotter.
A simple device is here shown for
cutting green food for poultry that are
confined. The idea is clearly shown
In the illustration, and little explana
tion is necessary.
An old table that is strong and firm
on its reet, is fitted with a square
trough with a slot cut in It, as shown
at figure 3, which guides the knife
blade. Figure 1 shows how the end
of the knife is hung to an upright
piece' bo fitted that the end of the
knife works in the slot as shown. Fig
ure 2 is a handy little tool made of a
block of" wood six inches square with a
handle of convenient length, the tool
being used to push clover or other
green food to be cut under the knife,
and thus avoid any possibility of in-
Jury to the operator.
The knife is fashioned from a piece
of an old scythe blade ground sharp.
and is fitted into a handle of conve
nient size and shape. Figure 4 in the
Illustration shows the manner in which
the slot should-be cut in the board,
and through which the knife is to
work. This device may be readily
fashioned at home by any one who is
at all handy with tools, and by cut
ting the roots and clover for fowls
the greatest feeding value is obtained.
Spray Thoroughly.
Secure a good substantial spraying
utfit this spring and spray thoroughly
Spraying half done is labor lost The
other half means possibly a little more
invested in the outfit, and no more la
bor, A force pump in a barrel, which
should be mounted on a truck or car
ried in a wagon, Is sufficient for a small
orchard. The cost will be about $5 to
$6, without the truck. For large or
chards wagon sprayers are made,
where the wheels pump air to force the
tream. Also steam outfits that elim
inate the manual labor of pumping.
These cost from $25 upward. If you
have only a few trees a brass bucket
sprayer will be sufficient, cost about $3.
For a few bushes there is nothing bet
ter than the small band sprayer or
atomizers, costing 50 cents to $1, or on
a larger scale the compressed air hand
sprayers costing from $4.25 to $6.25
each. These sprayers can usually be
obtained from dealers in hardware,
agricultural implements, . seedsmen,
etc. Up-to-Date Farming.
Convenient Fly-Wheel.
A fly wheel on the farm is a great
convenience at times for such pur
poses as helping keep the churn in
regular motion, or
the hand separator,
or the grindstone,
where one must
grind by using a
treadle for foot
power. In the lat
ter case, a fly wheel
will cause the stone
to run very evenly. Our sketch shows
a cast-off, heavy farm cartwheel,
mounted and ready for business. Small
strips of hard wood screwed to the
rim keep the band from coming off.
The plan of setting up the wheel is
plainly shown. WThere the rim of the
wheel used is ef sufficient thickness.
the old iron tire can be removed and
a very thick, but narrow, tire put upon
both edges of the rim, leaving a
chance for the band to run between
them. In the case of a cast-off cart
wheel this plan would answer admira
bly. C. G. Hill, in Farm and Home.
. Profits in Strawberry Growing.
Quite in line with the more approved
methods of culture is the idea that to
get the best results from the straw
berry plantation some care must be
given to the preparation of the ground
long before the plants are to be set. The
old plan Is to set the plants on any
land they happen to have no immediate
use for, and pick the fruit the first
season. The nest land for strawberries
is that which has been in sod, and to
prepare such land it should be planted
to some hoed crop like corn for two
years before strawberry plants are set
This is necessary in order to rid the soil
ef the white grub, the greatest enemy
of the strawberry plant
Crops -with 8mall Frnits.
As a rule It is the better plan to keep
the small fruit plantation free from
other crops, although, if one has fer
tilized the soil reasonably heavy, hoed
crops may be grown between the rows
of raspberry and blackberry plants the
first season after the plants are set
Beans, potatoes or peas may be thus
grown to advantage, , out, as stated.
u ji uru ue sun iuu oeeu leruuzeu
so that the hoed crop will not use the
plant food that should go to sustain
the small fruit plants. The . plan, so
common in sections where these two
small fruits are grown with the great
est profit,. of plowing the space between
the rows, throwing a furrow toward
the row of plants, is an excellent one.
provided the plowing Is not too deep.
After pruning the plants properly and
doing the plowing suggested, if a
heavy mulch of coarse manure is placed
around the plants the yield will be very
much Increased and the berries be
larger. -
A Feeder's Practical Way.
In general, early feeding Is the most
profitable. The quicker you can mature
an animal the more money it will
make. It Is not profitable to feed after
cattle are ripe and ready for market. I
have made cattle gain five and one-half
pounds per day for sixty days, but af
ter that not nearly that average.
have had much more success in feed
ing ground feed than I ever had in any
other way, and I have tried almost ev
ery way and have come to the conclu
sion that to grind corn and cob to
gether, rather fine, is much better .than
to feed clear meal.
I have never had so good results as
when I have fed five times a day. but
I never feed so the cattle leave tho
least bit in their boxes. Cattle will not
eat any more when fed five times a
day than when fed all they will eat
three times, but the advantage Is that
you do not overload their stomachs,
and therefore the food is more easily
digested and they fatten faster on the
same food. I have had better success
In feeding cattle kept In their stalls
than in any other way of keeping them.
am a great advocate of feeding bran
and middlings and think they are near
ly or quite as good as the same weight
of corn. I am greatly In favor of de
horning cattle, as you can feed them in
a much smaller space and they will do
much better. Farm and Home.
Alfalfa in Favor.
Montana has the alfalfa fever. The
Northwest Live Stock and Wool Grow
ers' Journal says: "The large number
of prizes carried home from the Inter
national live stock show at Chicago
by Minnesota is proof that stock can be
grown ana fatted at a profit outside
the corn belt. It has been contended for
years that this was Impracticable, and
that the corn belt had a monopoly on
the feeding business. However, States
outside the corn belt have found other
feeds .that are quite as cheaply grown
and are quite as efficient in beef-mak
ing as corn. We are doing well here
with alfalfa, and ought to do much bet
ter. Utah Is making rapid progress
with lucern, and Mlnnespta of late
years, after being told by the railroads
what to do, is now carrying the war
right into the cornfield and wins hon
ors that are entirely convincing that
Oregon, Utah, Colorado, Wyoming,
Washington, Montana, the Dakotas
and Minnesota may all prove feeding
a profitable business.
Raise More Buy Less.
In the older days of farming such a
thing as a farmer patronizing a butch
er was unheard of. The butcher was
the buyer and not the seller, and- sim
ilar relations existed, to a less extent,
between the farmer and the dealer in
stock foods. There Is no good excuse
for farmers placing themselves in a po
sition where they must buy all or most
of their' meat. If the average farm Is
rightly handled it should supply its
owner with most or all of the meat for
the family, all of the fruit and vegeta
bles, eggs, poultry and butter. It should
also supply most of the food needed for
the stock. Farming in this way. with
certain crops which one knows best
how to grow In order to obtain the cash
necessary for incidental expenses, car
ries on the work In a way that is prof
itable. Dairy Notes. -Cheap
salt in butter is an expensive
economy.
A loss of appetite and a drooping
head are among the first symptoms of
cow sickness.
With the dairy cow there should al
ways be a due proportion of concen
trated and bulky food.
If you have a cow that -keeps fat
and sleek on little feed, keep her heifer
calf.
Butter Is bitter because of Impure
foods or from holding the cream too
long.
Cow,s will give more milk and of
better quality if fed and milked regu
larly. One Important item in building up a
reputation for butter is uniformity In
the quality.
Do not put the calves on skim milk
too soon Give them the rick milk
for ten days or two weeks.
The heifer calf does not need fatten
ing food, but plenty of bone and mus
cle-forming food should be supplied. -
A cow is a machine for reduciifs
feed to milk. She consumes the ra-wf
material, eliminates the waste matter
and furnishes a finished pioduc't.' (Jowa
differ in their capacity to consume fooS
and In -'their power to produce milfc
both as regards quality aud quantity.;
To be-a profitable dairy cow she must
convert her surplus food into rich milk
rather than fat or flesh. A good tl.tiry
cow rarely gets fat while producing
milk, no matter how well fed.