Corvallis gazette., June 03, 1902, Image 1

GAZE
SEMI-WEEKLY.
Zll&.ilVl-.lsVs. Consolidated Jeb., 1899.
COBVALLIS, BENTON COUNT 1 OREGON, TUESDAY, JUNE 3, 1902.
VOL. III. NO. 6.
CORVA
IV II W II jjiN
HERR STEINHARDT'S NEMESIS
BY J. MACLAREN COBBAN.
CHAPTER X Continued.
'"Manuel," said he, "is a double-
dyed villain, if he does aught to harm
Paul's girl! 1 can see what he's up to,
tbpugb ; he has given no account of
Paul's affairs yet, and if he can get
Louise to firry Frank he needn't. He
may want all the money he can get
hold of goon ; the plaintiffs in that pat
ent case have appealed, and he'll ha'
to appear again and fight at th' next
Bitting of the court. But he shannot
plunder the lass. I mtin find if she's
with my Bister, and if he's frightening
hor and if lie be, by th' L d! I mun
get a writ of mandamus or summat,
and tak' th' lass whoam wi' me. I'm
guardian as much as him, and if the
lass would rather bide wi me he can
not take her. Yea ; I ehall set about
it."
I drew his attention back to the ur
gent necessity of doing something in
her father's case ; had he anything to
suggest?
"Well, now .let me think," said he,
"We'll suppose Paul came home that
night late, you think, very late wi
his little portmanteau carried in his
hand; he pulls out his handkerchief to
blow his nose, or his repeater watch to
know the time, as he comes down the
lane, and so he drops that ticket. It's
near one o'clock, n-ay be, and there's
not a light anywhere burning; yea, by
the L d! but there is! he exclaimed,
turning and catching hold of my arm.
"Right in th' road, as it were, as he
comes by the pond, he sees th' light
that burns all night in old Jaques's cot
tage! ( Birley always pronounced the
name 'Jakes.') "Th owd chap seldom
is put to bed; he usually sits or lies up
in that chair of his all night and all
day. Paul was aye fond o' th' old
chan: now does he lift latch and eo in.
just to say 'how-de-do, or does he
think it is too late, and he d best go on
and see what Steinhardt's up to? If
we could orriy get th' old chap to speak
and tell us!"
CHATPER XI.
It is not necessary to detail how we
finally succeeded, after five days of
hard labor, under the direction of a
physician, in getting old Jaques to un
derstand what we wanted to know,
namely, whether his nephew, Paul La
croix, had visited him on the night of
the Hth of March, 1882. We did suc
ceed, however, in not only getting him
to understand, but in obtaining indis
putable evidence. Mr. Lacroix had
stopped at the cottage that night and
had left for the Jaques a package of
Paris papers bearing dates from the
10th to the 16th of the month and a
statement to this effect was signed by
the old man, who had sufficiently recov
ered the use of his right arm to sign
his name legibly.
The anxiety and excitement of those
five days had been so great for me that
for some little time I was almost pros
trated. I need scarce say that I was
much encouraged by our success with
Jaques: I had the papers with his
signed declaration, witnessed, of course,
by Birley and myself, securely locked
away in my desk. This should have
stimulated me to immediate further
action, and, I have no doubt, would
have, had I not been still eaten up with
anxiety about Louise. What if the
hope I cherished as the end of all this
the hope of taking her from the fears
and dangers that hung about her, of
having her as my very own, my wife!
whta if this hope was being baulked
while I was thus busy? The mere
thought of such a contingency was
enouch to bring my fabric of careful
evidence regarding the Lacroix mystery
to nought. If I could only discover
where she was! and that ehe still
thought of me, as I fondly believed she
had done a little while she was yet in
Tiuiperley! still refused to yield to
the cajoleries and threats of Steinhaidt,
and hoped I would deliver her! But I
had no news, and I was devoured with
anxiety.
No news except the confirmation
from Birley that she was not with Mrs.
Steinhardt. He had written to his
6ister inquiring about Louise, and had
been answered to that effect; Mrs.
Steinhardt had reason for supposing
she was in Blackpool, but at what ad
dress she could not say.
I entreated Birley to go to Blackpool
to endeavor to find out, if he could
rpare the time. But he needed no en
treaty, for he himself was also becom
ing anxious about her.
"I mun spare the time, said he;
"and I mun go and find her. It's, of
course, no use asking 'Manuel where
she is."
But before he had arranged to set
out, something occurred which obviated
the necessity of going, and produced re
sults of a more remarkable sort; and
this I must proceed to relate.
As I have already indicated, my ex
perience of the way in which such evi
dence as I had regarding Lacroix's fate
had rather come to me than been found
by me tended to make me what I may
call "a waiter upon Providence." I
conceived I may say, I was convinced
I ehould beet attain further result,
by keeping myself open to evidence
more than by ranging about and rack
ing my brain in search of it. All fear
being at rest that our experiment upon
old Jaques might have fatal or un
toward results (he was now more alert
than ever, and frequently asked, in
writing, foi "the girl"), I had betaken
myself to a former habit, and every
day almost went into town to the free
library to read. Sometimes I read a
book, and sometimes the newspapers.
I was thus occupied one afternoon
nth The Times. I turned with a curi
osity which was half listless to the
"agony column," and my attention
was at one arrested by this:
"TO EMMAS DEL STEINHARDT
in England. Emile Haas in Basel send
this. Though you me have forgotten I
not yon. I am in very much trouble
and fear from you, many times since
first, now again. "Come to me, come,
before the 'Too late' must be gewrit
ten." (A Basel address was ap
pended.) Was it not natural that I should at
once think this was addressed to the
Emmanuel Steinhardt I knew? There
might be others of the name in Eng
land, but surely no other to whom the
implication, which I read between the
lines of this advertisement, of broken
faith with a woman would eo well ap
ply. And she seemed in argent dis
tress; she begged him to go to her. It
was scarcely probable, I thought, that
Steinhardt would see it; he read little
of newspaper literature, I knew, and
his usual paper was the local daily.
What, then? In spite of my ab
horrence of him, and my wish to-avoid
him, should I not, for the woman's
sake, inform him of this? I pondered
this idea all the rest of the day, until
the evening, when I took it to Birley.
"Certainly," said he; "the scamp!
Let him know of it. I sappoeehe only
married mv sister because she had a
bit of brass."
So I called on Steinhardt that very
evening.
"Thank you, Mr. Unwin," said he,
when I had told him my errand; "but
some kind friend has already sent me
the paper" (taking up a copy of The
Times). "Yes," he continued, reading
it over and chuckling at its composi
tion. "I suppose she thought she must
write English for an English papei."
(He laid the panel down.) "Poor
Emilie, slle wants me; but I can't go,
you know. I must go to London about
my lawsuit again. I might send Frank,
but I really want him here." He
paused and looked at me, meditatively
"You are doing nothing, Mr. Unwin
Would you go for me? You would,
really and truly, do better than I
should. She thinks she would like to
see me and speak to me, but she
wouldn't. She seems to be very ill
dying, I suppose ehe thinks herself,
poor woman and to speak to people
eick and dying is more in your way
than mine. She will like to hear you;
ehe always liked clergymen; ehe liked
me a little when we thought I was go
ing to be a a clergyman."
He turned slowly to the fire, took up
the poker, and carefully raked out the
ashes from the bottom of the grate
Was memory leading him back reluct
antly to those days of his youth, and
compelling him to ask himself whether
for all he had gained since then he had
not paid too great a price?
"Well," said he, manifestly shaking
something off, and turning to me,
"what do you say, Mr. Unwin? I will,
of course, pay your expenses, and you
will take Emilie a letter from me, and
money I daresay she means she needs
it."
"I am much obliged to you, Mr.
Steinhardt," said I, "but"
"Oh," said he, "it is I will be
obliged, but of course that does not
matter."
"It is so unexpected," I continued;
I might have added, "and extraordi
nary.
"Well, yes; I daresayitia. But you
know what the Frenchman says about
the unexpected."
"Let me consider it for a day; and
if I decide to go I shall be ready to set
out at once."
"Oh, yes; consider it, and consult
your friends. But if you do not go,
nobody will go."
I went immediately from him to
Birley, and stated at once the extraor
dinary offer I had received.
"Go, lad," said he; "it will bJ a
pleasant holiday for you, and the pooi
woman, of course, would rather see
somebody from 'Manuel than only get a
letter from him."
I hesitated ; I did not desire holi
day then, even on the Continentwheie
I had never been, but at the same time
some change was becoming necessary
considering the low condition to which
my finances had sunk.
"But," said I, "I believe he has
asked me only to get me out of the way
for some purpose. I think he suspects
have beeu finding out something
more.
"And what does that matter?" asked
Birley. "Look here, my lad; I know
you're in a way about Louise. Now it
strikes me if you go away for a little
while (and you may as well go at
'Manuels expense), things will turn
out better for you than you may think.
l ou see, at the same time as you are
away, he is away, too. Frank must
come back to the works, and there will
be no reason for keeping Louise at
Blackpool. Take my word for it, he'll
bring her home; I shall manage to
see her, and if she claims my protec
tion as her other guardian, I shall tak'
her home with me, and when he comes
back he can't ta her from me. Don't
you see, lad?"
I admitted the force of the reasons
he urged, and all next day (which was
Sunday) turned them over. My going
might certainly be to Louise's advant
age and to my own. " Even if Stein-"
hardt brought her back to Timperly
only for a visit of a few days, there
would be sufficient opportunity for Bir
ley to take her home to himself. On
the other hand, my refusal to go would
bring no advantage nor prospect of ad
vantage. And might not, indeed,
Steinhardt a offer be a suggestion of
Providence? :
So on Monday morning . I called oa
Steinhardt and said I was ready to set
out at once, and in the afternoon I
was whirlingthrongh beautiful Derby
shire on my way to London and the
Continent. I could not forbear feeling
something like delight at the change
from terrible Timperley to these bright
scenes although I scarcely knew where
I was journeying, or for what. Could
I then have guessed what strange things
I would hear when I reached the to me
unknown city of Basel on the Rhine,
could I have guessed that I was being
hurried along by the Divine Vengeance,
that I was not so much 'deputed by
Steinhardt to see Emilie Haas as by
Jjat Overruling Power who was lm
pelling that man on to his doom, what.
I have often wondered since, would my
feelings have been as I was borne along
with rush and roar in the railway
train?
The first night of my journey I rest
ed in London. I went to that hotel
(Bacon's) in Great Queen-street, where
Mr. Lacroix had commonly stayed on
his visits to London, but I found noth
ing of consequence.
I was wretched, cold and hungry,
when, abcut 7 o'clock in the morning
of the third day, I left the train at
Basel. I permitted myself to be taken
to a hotel, where I ordered breakfast
Alter partaking of which I revived, and
began to think of the errand on which
I had come.
Since my anival I had been uncer
tainly using French and German, and
I had been answered in either language
(I found later that in the hotel, at
least, I might as well use my native
English); but on inquiring my way
from the Ludwigstrasse to the obscure
street I sought, I had to draw- exclus
ively upon my stock of German. I dis
covered that Fraulein Emilie Haas
lived in one of a row of old tall houses
(not unlike some of. those in the city of
Edinburgh), with little windows in the
steep grey roofs, which gave the im
pression of eyes with sleepy, heavy
lids. Up and up the bare stairs of the
house I stepped, till I think I was on
the fourth tioor at any rate, I was as
high as I could chnib. I knocked at
the door of a humble "apartment" of
two rooms, and an o!d wrinkled woman
appeared. .1 inquired in German for
Fraulein Haas, and was informed she
was from home, "giving her daily les
sons." She was not, then, ill? Oh,
no, she was not ill she was well. I
asked when she would be at home, and
was told "ai five o'clock in the after
noon." So I departed till then, with
about six hours in which to tax my in
genuity in guessing why Fraulein
Haas's demand to see Steinhardt had
been so urgent, since she was net dy
ing, nor even ill.
At five o'clock I called again, and
found Fraulein Haas at home. I was
tasked to come in. I looked curiously
at the Fraulein. She was a middle
aed woman, of the thin, nervous type
of German (or, perhaps Swiss), with
bright, keen, grey eyes. She rose,
smiling, but perplexed, to revive me,
and waited lor me to state my busjinesa.
"I come from England," I said in
German.
"Then you do not want me to give
lessons," paid she, pushing away a
"prospectus" evidently laid ready for
presentation; "my mother thought you
had come for that."
"No," said I "I come from Eng
land to see you, and then to go back
again."
She looked bewildered. I took from
my pocket a copy of the Times adver
tisement, and handed it to her. At
once the expression of her face changed ;
pale before, it became paler now, and
her eyes seemed to dilate, as with
fear.
"But you," eaid.she, "are not Em
manuel Steinhardt? Perhaps, how
ever," she made haste to add, "you are
his son? He married, T know." ' I
shook my head.
"I am no relation at all to Herr
Steinhardt. Very likely that will ex
plain who I am" and I gave her
Steinhardt's letter.v
She was moved when she saw the
handwriting. She read the letter
through eagerly. It waa short, I could
see.
"He thinks I am ill, and in want of
money of his money! Ach! This
will not do! You must go away sir!"
(To be continue,!)
Naming the Child..
Now, neessarily, when the new girl
baby arrived there was much discussion
among the members of the family as to
what her name should be.
"We will call her 'Geraldina,' "
said the fond mother.
"Why not call her 'Esmeralda?'"
asked the first grandmother. "I saw
that name in a story once, and always
wanted to try it on a baby."
"Oh," murmured the second grand
mother, that "would never do. Let
us call her 'Fanchon.' "
"But don't you think 'Eltessa' is a
pretty name, and so odd, too?" put in
one of the aunts.
"Excuse me, ladies," ventured the
poor father, who t-at near bv, but you
seem to forget that we are trying to
hnd a name for a human being, and
not for a 5-cent cigar."
Knew How to Take Froude.
The late historian, Samuel Rawson
Gardiner, used to say of Froude:
"Whenever I find myself particularly
perplexed on any point I look to see
what Froude has to say about it. I al
ways find his help"" invaluale, for I can
trust implicitly in his unfailing ia
stinct at arriving at false conclusions;
and the more positive he becomes the
safer I feel in adopting diametrically
oppoiste view."
Area Occupied by Indians.
In 1890 the area of the national do
main occupied by Indians aggregated
116,000,000 acres; today it aggregates
85,000,000 acres, which is about as
much land as we have in the states of
Ohio, Indiana and Illinois.
A Wonderful Fellow.
With newspaper held topsy turvy
' Bobby reads just the same, ah me!
Of kittens and princes and fairies galore.
And pirates that sail on the sea.
He's a wonderful apt young artist.
He makes remarkable things
With pencil and paper for us to see
; Bears, camels, and queens and kings.
Sometimes he's a brave young soldier.
With a paper cap on his head,
With a lath for a sword, a stick for a
gun.
He goes forth on his mission dread.
But after the foes are banished
And all of the strife is o'er
He goes to his snug little trundle-cot
This wonderful chap who is four.
Youth's Companion.
Boys as Inventors.
The man who built the iron bridge at
Sunderland, John Ericsson, was a
skilled engineer at the age of 12. He
was then In charge of a section of one
of the great Swedish canals, and 600
men employed upon it looked to him
for direction In their dally work.
Young Ericsson was one of the very
few infant prodigies who have not
been failures when they grew up. At
the age of 11 he Invented a new form
of sawmill.
Of the . sawmill ; he constructed a
working model. The saw blade he
made of an old watch spring, moved
by a crank constructed of a broken
teaspoon, and his only tools were a
knife, a file and a gimlet. It was
this same wonderful Inventor who la
ter on drove a big ship across the
Atlantic by a hot-air engine a form
of mechanism safe, sure and speedy,
and only barred from practical use on
the score or expense.
The name Brush is inseparably con
nected with the Brush electric light.
and Charles F. Brush, Its inventor, Is
another genius who showed his in
ventive powers at an early age. Be
fore he was 14 he had constructed a
new form of electric motor, and had
also invented an electric apparatus for
turning on the gas in street lamps,
lighting it and turning It off again.
Next year he made a microscope,
grinding the lens himself.
It Is rather curious that Edison's
first invention of any importance was
caused-fey a longing to avoid tedious,
monotonous work. When, as a boy of
14, he was night telegraph clerk. It
was his duty to report himself every
half hour to the head office by tele
graphing the word "six." This was
to prove that he was not asleep. Edi
son, however, had no Idea of sleep
ing, but preferred to take a little ex
ercise in the open air at night. So he
got over the difficulty by cutting suit
able notches'on a wheel and attaching
this to the works of a cheap clock.
This primitive apparatus would trans
mit the signal automatically twelve
times at intervals of half an hour.
Edison's very first Invention was at
the tender age of 12. He erected a toy
telegraph line, but could not manage
to purchase materials for a battery. So
Jje caught a big black cat and' endeav
ored to obtain the necessary current
by rubbing the .fur of the creature's
back and using the wretched animal's
four feet as terminals.
All lamps up to near the end of the
elghteenthjcentury had solid wicks like
pieces of"fcord and no chimneys. It
was not until the year 1783 that a
flat wick was made. A year later a
Swiss chemist named Aime Argand In
vented a circular, form of burner; but
though a vast Improvement on the rope
wick, the light was still flickering and
uncertain. One day Argand's small
brother wandered Into his work room
and picked up an empty oil flask, with
which he began to play. "At last he
fitted It over the circular wick, by the
light of which his elder brother was
working. In a moment the flame
burned up white and brilliant, and the
secret of the lamp chimney was made
clear.
Cast iron cement was a boy's Inven
tion, though thename of the boy who
invented it Is not known. One day
William Murdoch, the man who first
applied coal gas to illuminating pur
poses, went into a workshop of Boul
ton and Watt, In which he was em
ployed, and began to hunt for a tool
he wanted in his tool chest He found
everything in confusion and a work
man told him he had seen one of the
boys at It a few days before. Among
other upsets, some sal ammoniac had
been spilt on a quantity of Iron-filings,
and the resulting mixture had bitten
Into the blade of his saw. This com
pound was the first cast iron cement.
To another youth of only lS"we own
the piano In Its present form. Young
Sebastian Erard was its Inventor and
maker. His master Hook the instru
ment to its purchaser and passed him
self off as its maker. But when the
buyer asked him about the mechan
ism, he was completely puzzled, and
had to send for young Erard to ex
plain. Only a year later, at the age of
16, Erard started Into business on his
own account In Paris, and so popular
were hisx Instruments that within a
year he had sold $125,000 worth of
them.
Children and tbe President.
Many stories are told of the affection
Theodore Roosevelt entertains for chil
dren, be they from tbe daintiest homes
or from the streets. One day when he
was Governor a delegation -ef public
men came up to Albany and called
upon him. He, was not in bis office,
and no one knew where he was. The
business was important and time not
to be wasted. A dozen messengers
were sent hunting the Governor, and
after ten minutes of the precious time
had passed they found him curled up
in a corner with one or two neighbors'
children and a street arab drawing pic
tures of guns and ponies on the writ
ing table. Vhe children had waylaid
him and begged him to show them pic
tures of the guns and mustangs he had
In the war. At another time he was
found In the executive chamber half
buried under children clambering over
his chair, while he tried to show them
photographs of scenes of the campaign.
Animal Instinct.
Animal Instinct often gives a valua
ble hint to human reason. A case in
point is cited by an engineer in a re
cently written review of the subject
of dams. The beaver, he says, does
not build his dam straight across tbe
current, his instinct telling him that in
this form it will better resist floods
and the impact of floating ice. This
hint from the little animal has been
acted upon in many cases lately, nota
bly in the building of the Great Bear
valley dam In California. Engineers,
as a rule, build straight across stream,
chiefly, perhaps, to save material, but
the arched dam is the more economical
in the long run.
Beechnuts.
ihere Is nothing sweeter than the lit
tle three-cornered beechnuts, but very
few people have the patience to take
them out "of their brown leathery jack
ets, let alone hunt for them and pick
them up. They are generally left fpr
the pigs and the squirrels. Many birds
are exceedingly fond of them, and it is
said that. In certain localities the num
ber of redheaded woodpeckers which
remain for the winter can be pretty
accurately dedtermined by the size of
the, beechnut crop the preceding
autumn.
They Got tbe Shell.
A story from which one might draw
several morals was recently printed
in the NewYork Times. It may sug
gest at least the wisdom of thinking
twice before consulting a lawyer when
there Is little at stake.
The two men were ushered Into the
private office the other day, and stood
in silence before the lawyer.
"Well?" he said.
"You ask him," urged one of the men,
In a hoarse whisper.
"Walt a minute," counseled the oth
er. Maybe he'll guess it"
"Come, come, gentlemen, my time is
valuable," Interrupted the lawyer.
"We are twin brothers," chorused
the two, "and we thought you'd have
guessed it."
"Is that all?" asked the lawyer, se
verely. "No," continued one of the strange
pair. "We want to ask you a ques
tion. A relative died a short time ago.
We were his only heirs. He left a pa
per saying that his oldest surviving rel
ative was to have all his property;
but neither of us is the oldest. So
what are we going to do?"
"How much did he leave?" asked the
lawyer.
"Seven dollars," cried both in con
cert
"Divide it," said the lawyer.
' "What is your fee?" asked one.
"Seven dollars."
The two men paid the fee, between
them, and departed, relieved of a great
mental burden.
Could Not Be Reformed,
"I don't enjoy visiting with folks that
want their own way all the time, and
I won't stay, not when 1 find out" said
Mrs. Tarbell to her sister, Miss Porter.
"I suppose that's why you've come
home from Amabel's," said Miss Por
ter, with a faint smile. She had been
enjoying a restful week, and it had
seemed all too short
"Yes, that's the very reason !" said
Mrs. TarbelL with considerable heat
Amabel's got the notion that her
sugar bowl looks better sitting at her
left on the table, and the first day I was
there I put it at the right and she
moved It back!
" 'Why don't you have it sit at your
right? I asked her one day, and she
just smiled and said she'd got used to it
at the left. I moved It three times a day
all the week I was there, and last off
it got me so provoked and nerved up I
just packed my bag and came home.
"If her mother'd realized what a
headstrong will Amabel had, she never
would have let it go, as a child. But
I'm too easy-going to cope with her,
and being only a cousin and all, I've
just left her to her own devices. But
it's an awful pity!"
Bombay's Expensive Depot.
The most expensive and the roomiest
railway station in the world is that of
tbe Peninsular Railway at Bombay.
Lf the dear public is amused it cares
not for the barking of tbe critic.
Washing by Wind Power."
The illustration shows how to attach
an ordinary- washing machine to a
wlndmilL Chas. H. Rhode, of Iowa,
vouches for the efficiency of the device.
It does the hardest part of the work, he
says, and while it works tbe one doing
the washing can rinse and bang out
We have a wash house around the mill,
also a large stove with a kettle inside.
To construct get an old wheel about
two and a half feet in diameter, an old
mower wheel being good; place it about
eight feet from the platform, as shown.
Then connect it by pitman A to a spoke
of the wheel and to the plunger of
windmill. Regulate the stroke of the
WINDMILL WASHER.
wheel by fastening pitman close to the
hub for a long stroke and near tbe rim
for a shorter one. Cut ji wood pulley
and place It between the large wheel of
washing machine. On most washing
machines a pulley an inch and a quar
ter thick and eight inches in diameter
can be placed there. Belt the two
wheels together and fasten the belt to
the small pulley by driving In some
nails or screws at the opposite side
from the lever to the handle to prevent
the belt from slipping. -Also fasten the
belt in the same manner to the large
wheel after it Is adjusted, so they can
not get out of time. I use a short strap.
about six feet long, with a snap In each
end, to go around the small pulley, and
for the rest I use an old sprocket chain
off an old binder and snap the straps to
It for belt. In that way one can take
up the slack and there isn't so much
strap to stretch. B is a board to fit
tight on top of machine to hold it down,
and when the lid Is raised It swings
back where dotted lines are, out of the
way - This is not a rotary motion,
which would be hard to get from a
pump plunger."
Good Hoar House.
A Nebraska correspondent writes
Iowa Homestead as follows: "I have
noticed a number of hog houses for
brood sows, but have seen none such
as we use in our neighborhood. I put
one up lately and will describe it I
used 2x4's for the frame, sided with
drop siding or shlplap and roofed with
roofing cut in two, six feet on one side
and four feet on the other, to make
doors. For platform and floor we used
1x6 fencing and yellow pine. For foun
dation we used red cedar posts. It can
be built any length desired. The one
I put up is fifty feet long and the plat
form is 11x18 feet The stalls are 4x7
feet which I think is big enough for
any sow. Wben the door Is open it
will let the sun in and if the door is
BROOD SOW HOUSE.
shut It will keep the rain out I am
In favor of a little sunshine for pigs
and I think it is a great help to them.
The. house must be put up east and
west and the doors be put in on the
south side. The doors are made to
swing back, as seen at A. B. shows
how to make a door. Where the legs
come together or cross each other
bore a hole and put a bolt through the
legs and fence board. A 1x6 is used to
hold the building together every four
and a half feet. The small doors 2x2
where sows go In and out are shown
also. Little gates are made to pen them
up.
Demand for Peppers.
The demand for peppers that are mild
In flavor Is increasing yearly, and the
vegetable is one that may be grown
with profit by any
market gardener.
To get the best re
sults with peppers
the seeds should be
started in a hot bed,
and when the
plants are about an
Inch high they
should be trans
planted to small
pots filled with fine and rich soil,
and- grown in this manner un
der tbe protection of a cold
frame until June, when they may
be transplanted to the open ground.
The plants should be set two and one
half feet apart in rich soil and manure
should be worked in around the roots
frequently during the season of growth.
The illustration shows the variety.
Sweet Mountain, which is very mild in
flavor.
Wonderful Seeds.
Beware of the- man with wonderful
seed. He Is a veritable gold-brick
artist in plausible disguise. His stock
wUiyiaco uuuaiv iwsa otwi j
1,000 years old taken from an Atec
tomb and of wonderful productiveness,
wheattaken from a Nile pyramid. .
wonderful forage grass of. drought-'
resisting qualities from the Sahara
desert and other products from dis
tant lands. It won't pay to experi
ment with htm. -
Testing: Seed Corn.
There Is no excuse for any one plant
ing corn that is low in vitality and It
the seed corn has not been well se
lected either during the growing sea
son or in the fall and well cared for
during the winter, it should be tested
at any time now before It is time to
plant There are several methods of
testing corn, one of them to sprout the
Kernels between pieces or oannei
which are kept saturated with water.
A better plan Is one that should be
familiar to all farmers. Take a large
flat dish, a large soup plate Is just the
thing, and fill it with very fine sand.
Over, this pour water .until the dish
is brimming full; allow this to stand
until the sand absorbs all It will, then
pour off the surplus water. Select
fifty or 100 kernels of corn, taking
them from the centers of the ears, and
place them in the saud, point down.
Then sprinkle a little dry sand over
the wet cover the plate with another
inverted and set in a warm room.
Watch closely, and If the sand gets
dry moisten with warm water. In a
week all of the kernels that will sprout
will show the plant Keep for ten
days or two weeks, when the result
should show 95. per cent sprouted. If
less than this sprout It will not be a
safe risk to use the corn for seed for
thejritallty will be too low to reason
ably expect good results. This is a
simple test, but a sure one and readily
made.
Hints for the Stable.
Whitewash the stable once or twice
a year; use land plaster In the manure
gutters dally.
Clean and thoroughly air the stable
before milking; in hot weather sprin
kle the floor.
Use no dry, dusty feed Just previous
to milking; if fodder is dusty, sprinkle
it before It is fed.
Keep dairy cattle in a room or build
ing by themselves. It is preferable to
have no cellar below and no storage
loft above.
Stables should be well ventilated,
lighted and drained; should have tight
floors and walls and be plainly con
structed. Potato Chowder.
Pare and cut Intodice six good-sized
potatoes; chop fine one onion; put a
quarter of a pound of fat bam or salt
pork through the chopper. Cook the
meat and onion slowly until the latter
begins to color. Turn in the potatoes,
one tablespoon of chopped parsley,
half a teaspoon of salt and quarter of
a teaspoon of white pepper; mix; then
add a pint and a half of boiling .wa
ter and stew gently until the potatoes
are almost done. In the meantime make
a sauce of a tablespoon each of butter
and flour and one pint of milk. Pour
this into tbe first saucepan, add a little
more salt if necessary, and simmer for
fire minutes longer.
Pork Tenderloins.
The tenderloins are unlike any other
part of the pork In flavor; they may be
either fried or broiled, the latter being
dryer, require to be well buttered be
fore serving, which should be done on a
hot platter before the butter becomes
oily; fry them in a little lard, turning
them to have them cooked through;
when done, remove, and keep hot
while making a gravy by dredging a
little flour into the hot fat; if not
enough, add a little butter or lard, stir
until browned, and add a little milk or
cream, stir briskly, andvpour over the
dish. A little Worcestershire sauce may
be added to the gravy, if desired.
Brief Hints.
If you want your potatoes mealy
wrap a baked one, when it is done, '.n
a towel and press until It bursts.
The rich cheeses, which have the larg
est percentage of fat are those which
blend well with bread, in sandwiches
or with macaroni or rice.
A nice tea dish is a plain blanc
mange, flavored with vanilla, stirred in
two cupfuls of stoned dates, and pour
ed into a mold, which is set on Ice to
cool.
For date mush, stir in cup of dates
(stoned and separated) when your
mush a cupful has been thoroughly
cooked. Cook ten minutes and serve
with cream or sirup.
A good dinner for to-day would con
sist of cream of corn soup, rolled loin
of veal, mashed potatoes, spinach with
egg, lettuce salad, cottage pudding,
lemon sauce, and coffee.
One of the daintiest of salads con
sists of chopped grape fruit, pineapple,
orange, and pecan kernels, and pprin-'
kled with French dressing. Serve in
the outer leaves of a green cabbage.
A suggestion for what may be desig-"
nated as a substantial dinner: Cream-:
of celery, boiled leg of mutton, caper:
sauce, boiled potatoes, young carrots
boiled, lettuce salad, water biscuits.-
toasted, and coffee. ...j
Date gems require cream, together-;
with one cup of sugar and quarter cup
of butter. Add two beaten eggs, half "
cup milk, teaspoonful of baking pow
der, to make thick batter. Bake iu mod
erate oven in gem pane.