V
i
GAZETTE
TW!-- Jill
SEMI-WEEKLY.
SSuiTTIi.. iConsoliiited Feb., 1891.
COBVJLLLIS, BENTON CXTOTX, OREGON, TTJESD AX, DECEMBER 8, 1903.
VOL. IV. NO. 33.
I The Contrabandist; 1 4 1
CHAPTER XV.
It was night. Helen Montauban had
entered her apartment, and securing the
door, gave way to the passionate feelings
born of a dire suspicion, which had been
rankling in her breast for hours. The
interview between her father and Rose in
the morning, the hint at a confession, the
thousand slight yet convincing tokens of
feeling witnessed that afternoon and
evening in her close yet silent and
stealthy watch over actions and words,
something peculiar in the manner of the
marquis, and the occasional gay yet mys
terious jests of the Count de Clairville
all combined to awaken within her the
bitterest and most tormenting distrust
and suspicion.
"I will know I will know!" she said
to herself. A little while she waited, till
she was able to assume a manner of per
fect composure, and then, lifting an ala
baster lamp from the toilet, she crossed
the gallery and entered the apartment op
posite, -'i
Rose had dismissed her maid and was
brushing out her hair, whose rich folds,
.falling around her light shape, almost
concealed it with their shining veil. She
turned from the mirror as Mademoiselle
Montauban entered, and a lovely smile
brightened over her aweet face.
Ah, I am so glad you have come,
Helen!" she said, running to her and
throwing those fair, snowy arms about
Jber in an innocent, loving and happy em
brace. And Helen Montauban, bending her
beautiful head, calmly and with seeming
I kindness and affection, kissed Rose on her
forehead. The girl shuddered.
"How cold you are, Helen! Are you
HI? Your lips are like ice!"
"No, I am not ill, dear child, and I
f think it must be because you are so
'warm, so excited, so happy, that you im
agine me to be cold. I have come to sit
with you a little while before I retire."
"You were kind to come. I wanted to
Bee you; I was waiting for you." She
sat down by the side of Mademoiselle
Montauban and put her arms about her
- again. - .
"Well, you wished to see me is that
all?" asked Helen, attempting something
like playfulness in her manner.
"I wished to to tell you something,
and now I have not the courage." Rose
iiid her face on her companion's breast
again. "Helen, it was about Louis."..-r
Those "sweet eyes were hidden; it was
well; they could not see the stony fierce
ness of that wild, white face above, that
grew wilder and whiter as the girlish,
timid confession was made.
Helen Montauban, crushing with calm
and terrible force the thousand mad emo
tions in her breast, that struggled to have
way, compelled herself to utter, softly:
"Go on, Rose; I am interested I am
listening; go on!"
And Rose told her all all, from begin
ning to end, with her fair head lying on
' that stormy heart, whose gathering fires
her innocent, whispered, bashful words
fed with a fearful sustenance. Heln
Montauban listened. She heard all this
every word, every syllable of this con
fession, : and each word, each syllable,
struck her with a deadly blow. The de
liberate stab of the midnight murderer
tells with no -deeper power. Yet she list
ened, and stirred not; she spoke some
times, made some remark or comment,
and then listened again. There was a
kind of savage agony within, that dwelt
npon that simple. love -story in - its- every
detail, and comprehended it with sharp
and greedy eagerness; but at the close, all
memory of those details departed. All
that was left of. that story, gathered into
three words three single words, tljat
Rose, with bashful joy, whispered as she
finished: "He loves me Louis loves me!"
And Helen Montauban said to herself,
"He loves another; he 4oes not love me!"
, The words were branded into her heart;
they were written there in characters of
fire ; they, were ineffaceable. .
"You are not going yet? do not go yet,
dear Helen!"; murmured Rose. "Stay
with nie a little longer."
Her soft eyes, raised so tenderly, so
pleadingly, to that face, shone with a
divine beauty. Tho gold-tinged tresses,
flowing about her graceful head, were
like the glory that surrounds the brow of
a saint. Thus seemed this young girl, as
she stood before the dark, stately Helen,
whose proud face was calm and quiet,
. whose, splendid eyes shot forth no shaft
of the smothered fire within.
' But Helen Montauban uttered some
gentle words and turned away. She bade
Rose a pleasant good night before she
. went out, and then, taking her by the
hand, bent down once more and kissed
her. With that kiss she swore hatred
undying, eternal; revenge, speedy and
sure, to the one who had robbed her of
his love. And Rose sought her pillow to
dream such dreams as youth and joy
may bring, even while hate and revenge,
with sleepless eyes, watched over her.
Helen Montauban secured herself in the
privacy and stillness of her chamber, and
. putting her lamp on her own dressing
table, threw herself upon the couch, not
to sleep. The spirit of rest fled from
-those eyes, that gloomed upon vacancy.
There was no peace for that heart, beat-
ing with hard, fierce, heavy throbs be
neath its silken vesture. StiJJ those words
burned upon it their scorching characters
"he loves another!"
She had sworn revenge. The dream
of her whole life had been broken now.
It was as if a single thread of shining
silver had run its glittering line through
her life-woof, and those slender, fingers,
so lately pressed upon her own, 'had
ruthlessly snapped it asunder. Rose
might be innocent of intention to wrong
her nay," she knew her to be so. And
yet she hated her hated the beautiful
face, the sweet voice, that had won him
to love them. She shuddered as she
seemed to feel once again the pressure
of that young head upon her bosom. It.
oppressed suffocated her; she could not
breathe. The very air of the room was
stifling. ' She flung open a casement with
trembling hands - and leaned far out to
drink the cool and dewy air of the dark
' midnight.
This was all she thought of that ven
geance must be had. How it was to
work, or when, was unknown. Its very
shape was yet undefined; but some shape
or other it must take soon. At present
a vague idea only floated before her. It
was sweet, in her bitterness of soul, to
contemplate it. She would lay her plan
carefully. It should be matured to the
rarest perfection, before -the period for
action came, that there might be no fail
ure. She said to herself, "I will never
see Rose Lamonte the bride of Louis!"
It was known among the guests at the
chateau the next morning that"Rose and
Louis were betrothed, and something was
whispered, too, concerning the romance
attached to the affair. The good Coun
tess de Clairville had kissed and congrat
ulated the young girl to her heart's con
tent. Everywhere there were smiles; ev
erywhere there were happy hearts, save
in one bosom.
The young count had taken his cousin
Helen out upon the terrace; he had told
her he wished to talk with her alone, and
she knew well that which she was to
hear. To Helen, Louis had been wont to
give his confidence; it was pleasant to do
so; and now, that he had so much to
confide, he turned to her still.
Helen Montauban listened quietly to
all, and with an interest scarcely feigned.
Was it not the story of a ruined hope as
well as of a rival's happiness? Every
word struck deep and keenly; she felt
them but too well; yet she hid her ag
ony and listened and sympathized and
congratulated till she wondered at her
own self-command. And Louis, in the
honest sincerity of his own heart, fully
trusted in. and gratefully credited those
false, deceitful, gently uttered assur
ances. Helen Montauban had force of
will sufficient to make her an admirable
actress.
Lord Egerton was much more gay and
light-hearted than he had seemed . for
some time past. For always, despite him
self, -uneasy and jealous becaise of what,
with jaundiced sight, had seemed to him
to be the preference of Louis for Helen,
he had now experienced a sudden and
most welcome sense Of freedom from ap
prehension that he was relieved of his
former fears. True, Mademoiselle Mon
tauban treated him with no more favor
than formerly; but he did not cease to
hope.
CHAPTER XVI."
There was a talk of the approaching
wedding day. The impatience of Louis
had urged its being fixed at an early pe
riod. He asserted that a delay of three
months would be quite sufficient. His
gay and vivacious yet earnest arguments
were half accepted. .. The marquis was in
clined to favor them, though it was evi
dently with a sore struggle. It was not
until now that he had realized the full
depth of his affection for Rose. She had
become very dear to him. Her gentle
ness and innocence and goodness of heart,
her childlike loveliness, and more than all,
her likeness to one beloved in by-gone
years, endeared her to the heart of this
second father. He shrunk from speak
ing of the parting, though he could not
deny to Louis the boon so earnestly
sought.
It could be seen, by a close observer,
that now, while this discussion was going
on, and one and another laying plans
touching the event, Rose herself said lit
tle, merely giving assent to the various
propositions laid -before her, and seeming
to take but a passive part in the general
action. There was, too, at times, a cer
tain gravity, which might as well have
been called actual sadness, in her de
meanor, and which could not well be ac
counted for. Gradually it became so evi
dent that it occasioned the deepest un
easiness in the' breast of Louis. He en
deavored to draw from her the cause of
it. She seemed disinclined to acquaint
him with the origin of this unusual mood.
"You are ill, dear Rose?" he asked,
with a lover's solicitude.
"I am not ill, Louis; indeed, you alarm
yourself unnecessarily."
"Then you are unhappy?",
"I am not exactly unhappy, either."
One month of the three had passed
away-'
"There are but two months now, Rose,"
said the happy young man.
. And Rose, even as she received the kiss
her lover gave so fondly, turned away to
sigh. He observed it with increased un
easiness. "My dear uncle," he said to the mar
quis, "what can ail Rose? I am sure she
is not quite happy, though she refuses
to admit it." -
The marquis did not observe the down
cast mood of the young girl for the first
time now. He had watched it since its
commencement, and meditated seriously
and with deep concern on the subject.
At length one day he sent for her to come
to him in the library.
"My dear child," he said, "1 must know
the reason and the nature of this gloom
which continually rests upon your spirits.
It is, as you must be aware, a matter of
some anxiety to me. You do not deny
that, if not precisely unhappy, there is
yet some wish to be granted some desire
to be fulfilled, which could restore to you
your usual serenity?"
"I will not deny it, monsieur," she re
turned, quietly and sadly.
"And you will not tell me what it is
this wish? Dear Rose, this reserve
pains me extremely. I am sure you would
not wish to cause me a moment's dis
quiet, and yet you unconsciously give me
the utmost apprehension. You confide
neither in "Helen nor Louis; then I en
treat you to be, at least, frank with me.
Is it anything which I can do to gratify
you, my child?"
"Indeed, I scarcely think so," answered
Rose; "I do not think any one here could
bring me what I wish. It is "
"Rose, I think I know what you wish.
I have thought of it more than once of
the very subject, doubtless, upon which
you are secretly dwelling at this moment.
You have not seen your father in a long
time. You are about to take a most im
portant step, and you wish to see him,
to tell him of all this. Is if not so?"
Tie tears quietly escaped from tlM
youag girl's downcast eyes.
"It is true, monsieur. I wished to see
him. I could not forget him in my hap
piness my poor father!"
"And it was very natural, dear Rose,
that you should not. Neither did I for
get him; but I hardly knew where he
could be found."
"I knew that, monsieur," she rejoined,
"and it was partly on that account that
I have been silent all this while."
And the good marquis could easily com
prehend the restraint that had also been
instrumental in preventing her from giv
ing utterance to the wish she had so long
and sorrowfully cherished.- Much as she
loved them all, she had shrunk from re
minding them, in their seeming forget
fulness, that while her future was occu
pying them continually, that her father,
poor and homeless and forgotten, might
be glad to clasp his only- child once more
in his arms and breathe a father's bless
ing over her.
They had not quite forgotten it, how
ever; and now that her desire was made
known, the marquis and- Louis were
equally anxious to seek for him. Though
nothing absolute was known concerning
his whereabouts, there was some reason
for believing that he had gone to Lyons,
and a faint hope of finding him there.
Accordingly, the matter was taken into
consideration.
It was about this time that the Count
and Countess de Clairville, with Lord Eg
erton, had arranged to continue their
route to Paris, and as they had been en
deavoring to persuade their host and hi
family to accompany them and spend the
time with them there until their return,
before the union of Rose and Louis, it
was decided to adopt the proposed plan
and remain some days at Lyons on the
way, in order, if possible, to hear some
thing concerning Hugh Lamonte.
This cdurse having been fixed upon,
preparations were immediately commenc
ed for the journey. The Countess de
Clairville could not suppress her joy at
this arrangement. Rose began to re
cover the gentle vivacity and animation
natural to her; and Louis, charmed at
observing the change, was the happiest
of men.
Nor was Lord Egerton the one least
satisfied of the party. He had looked for
ward to his departure from Helen's pres
ence with feelings of the utmost pain.
He had been restless disquieted. Noth
ing but the anticipation - of his return
thither had relieved his dissatisfaction.
His pleasure, then, in the prospect of
the approaching journey was as intense
as his discontent had formerly been.
And how was it with Heien Montau
ban? It was well known that she was
pleased with this arrangement. She had
expressed her satisfaction more than once
in alluding to it, and took an active part
in the preparations making for the oc
casion. But there was no one in all that
party not even Rose Lamonte herself ,
seeking tidings of her father who took
so deep an interest in the thoughts of
this journey. For Helen Montauban had
a- purpose th-bare" Bklet&B--of- plan as
yet over which she had been brooking
in secrecy and silence through many a
day past. Her desire, her thirst for re
venge, was fierce and unquenchable.
Long had she been meditating upon the
fmode of its fulfillment; but her hands
had been in a measure bound; the neces
sary facilities for action were difficult
to be attained. Now, however, means of
forwarding her wretched scheme were
at hand; the approaching journey opened
to her ways and means that she only too
eagerly snatched at. With calm and un
impassioned deliberation which but as
sured a more terrible consummation of
her hateful design, she meditated upon
the new assistance afforded her now; she
looked forward to the method to be
adopted, and carefull . made her calcu
lations carefully and coolly. She had
no fear no hesitation. Hers were strong
passions strong and fiery, and deep and
deadly as well. Love and hate had equal
violence when roused in her breast; the
love was forgotten now; the hate was
uppermost; it was meat and drink to
her; ., it had turned her - heart to steel.
Compassion, tenderness, pity all were
banished. The fiends themselves could
plot no more mercilessly than this wom
an, when vengeance had once become her
object..
A smoldering fire lay in those proud,
dark eyes, as she left the old chateau on
the morning of the departure for Lyons.
She leaned forward from the carriage
window as they wound slowly along the
road leading northward, and looked upon
the dark pile that rose against the blue,
serene air of the declining autumn.
"See," said Louis, gaily, "Helen is tak
ing a sentimental farewell of home."
"Nay, cousin, I- was thinking of our
return," answered she.
"Then why be thinking already," said
the marquis, "of our return ? Indeed, I
am half inclined, Helen, to believe that
you really regret leaving the chateau."
-"So soon? why, that scarcely augurs
favorably for the enjoyment of your trip
to the gay capital, Helen! I had an im
pression that you anticipated a great deal
of pleasure during our sojourn there."
"So she does so she does,. I ani sure!"
joined in Rose, as she took the hand of
Mademoiselle Montauban affectionately
in hers. "We shall both enjoy ourselves
shall we not, dear Helen?"
"Undoubtedly," was the reply; "how
can it be otherwise?" and she smiled.
"Monsieur," returned Mademoiselle
Montauban, "this jourriey is, of Jill things
in the world, one of those whiehI most
desire." . .
kShe leaned back in the carriage and
said no more. Gradually they entered
upon the road skirting the forest, and
then' the chateau and its neighborhood
was lost to view.
(To be continued.) '
A Tabloid Proposal.
"Blinks has a perfect mania for con
densing everything. Did you hear how
he proposed?"
"No." . ,( '
"He held up an engagement ring be
fore the girl's eyes and said 'Eh?' "
"And what did she say?"
"She just nodded."
No Use for Anything that Works.
Tattered Tomkins What made yon
turn down dat jug of cider wotr dat
lady offered you?
t Languid Lawrence Ain't you got
sense enough to know dat cider works?
' Good Riddance. " .
Mrs." Sleepylze Henry, the alarm
clock just went off. '
Mr. . Sleepylze Thank goodness! I
hone th' thingH never come back.-Co-lumbus
(Ohio) State Journal.
I I I 1 1'
i
i
The Dasctasr 1
To execute this little Srperiment you
need a hard-boiled egg and a smooth
china plate.' To be but, that the ex
periment is going to be successful,
keep the egg In a perpendicular posi
tion while it is being boged.
Place the plate upside! down on the
table, allowing it to stand out a little
over the edge of the table, to be able
to catch It quickly with your hand.
Place the egg in the -center, of the
plate, and putting the' thumb of the
left hand and the Index finger of the
right hand on both ends of the egg,
give it a sudden twirl,; causing it to
turn around in quick motion. The egg
will gradually stand on one end; then
yon will grab the plate, and all you
A FRIEND OF.
.
AN EAST LITTLE TRICK.
iHts plain but speaking countenance Is one I often see,
And many a timely warning its expression gives to me; t
In fact, I think It's due to him that I'm so seldom late.
His face says, 'Start for school, my dear, you see It's
And COOk. tOO 'has to mind hfm.'for d!nnr ialwenin
"Just ks his theetrllff cunteharice
And when papa comes home
The jolly fellow seems. to know,: and In his, way says.
He's very pieasant through theday, but when it's growing night
His i face is less agreeable, though he is still 'polite
: I hate o see him look like this for then mama will call)
" Put all the books and toys away the clock says 'bedtime,' Paul!'
Youth's Companion. -
have to do is to keep the egg in mo
tion, which is not difficult.
The Knltttnjc Lesson. .. , ... . .
Grandmother knows how a stocking
growa, ' . ' ) -
Bibbing and purling and heels and toes;
Now she is teaching our little Rose.
"Put in the needle,
Throw over the thread, .
Opt. with the needle, and off it goes!"
Grandmother's mouth gives a ,; little
twitch, .
Watching so slyly the eager witch,' '
Ready to help at the smallest hitch.
"Put in the needle,
Throw over the thread,'
Out with the needle, and there's the
stitch!" - y- . - :,
. ": y .. . i s ' x .: ' r- ' '; -
Grandmother sees in a .misty .dreamy' -Her
eyes still fixed on the needles' gleam,
Pastured- flocks and a gurgling stream
"Grandma! oh, we forgot the seam? ; .
"Bring the thread forward,
The needle this side, . -Then
over off and ' we've made the
Grandmother knows' . hip w ,&'': stacking
grows, .' .-. ; -
Ribbing and purling and heels and toes;
Now she is teaching our little Rose, r
St. Nicholas. ' ' ' '. ':
A Puzzling; Game. .'
My mother amused all her children
with this puzzle. It was a never-failing
mystery; but if she had told us
the secret it would have lost its charm.
"Think of a number." ' ' ' ' .
Perhaps I would think "Four." .
"Double it."
I thought, but did not say, ."Eight"
Perhaps she wouia-sayjJ-Add six to
it" ' . '. .: ; ,. v-uV-.- -
' "Fourteen."
"Divide it by two.",
, "Sven." .:.::-:-'. '
"Take away the first ..number you
thought of and the remainder will be
three." "
Sure enough, four from seven does
leave three; but I was very much
puzzled to know how she knew, for the
whole process, had been silent on my
part I nearly always said:
"Let's try it' again, mama."
Suppose I chose "One thousand."
"Now double it" she would say, as
before.
"Two thousand," I would say, quick
ly, and "Add ten to it" would be the
next command.
' "Two thousand and ten.'- That was
not hard. ;
"Divide by two." '
"Two thousand and five!" I would
cry, glad that X bad chosen an easy
number.
"Take away the .first number you
thought of and the remainder will
be five." .
One might think of ten, another of
! I- !
Little Stones and
Incidents that Will
Interest and Enter
tain Young Readers
seven, and I of six. The result would
be the same.
I asked her once what the number
that I had thought of was, and was
surprised that she did not know; -but
I learned when I was older that the
remainder was always ' half of the
number added. Youth's Companion.
A Spider's Kxpedlent.
Last summer a large spider had Its
web in the top of a decaying peach
tree with so few leaves that it was in
plain view. I caught sight of her
first while watching some birds with
my glass. She seemed to "be climbing
from the top of the tree on nothing
to a telephone wire some fifteen feet
away and somewhat higher than her
web. When she reached the wire she
went around it and then back. In
studying the situation I found that the
web was so located that it required
a cable to-hold it up, and the spider
had in some way got one over the wire
so far away. This cable was, of
course, a slender silken thread which
evidently she had thrown out. and on
account of its lightness it had floated
to the right place and became attached
there by its glutinous properties. It
seems remarkable that it should have
adhered to the wire firmly enough to
allow so large an insect to climb over
it, which she did every day.
The Cat Xived Through
A little bright-eyed boy of - eight
years ran away from home a short
time after luncheon. At nightfall he
was found under a hedge asleep and
brought home by a neighbor. The
family, consisting of the father and
THE FAMILY.
from town,, and I undo the door.
mother, were at dinner when the little
runaway - returned; but in rder to
punish him the better they paid no at
tention to him during the. entire meal.
The little one ate his dinner in uneasy
silence, looking curiously at his parents
from time; to time. Dinner over,' the
mother carried the dishes to the kit
chen and began ; to wash them. The
child, who: "had remained , silent since
his . return, wished to say something.
but he was at a loss to know just what
to -speak about . The cat purring in
front of the kitchen stove . at last gave
him an idea; and In the voice and man
ner of one who has just returned from
a journey of -;many . years- and ' many
lands, he sighed loudly and taid:"Well,
I see you have the' same old cat"
An Old fti-le Hot.
Among' the' treasures .in" the safe
custody of -Corpus Christ! College, Ox
ford is ari, old,' old hat, which was
found in an Egyptian tomb, and must
date back at least 5,000 years. ;
Its simplicity of make has been its
safeguard,- for it has no nap or perish
able trimmings, such as moth might
corrupt or thief covet It is closely
akin to' what Is now known as a Pan
ama straw hat, and is of such excel
lent quality that it can be folded or
crushed without any harm, to its ap
pearance. It is also quite as ,well
adapted for practical use now as it
was in the days of the Pharaohs. .
, Hia Tn.rn Came.
"Doctor, just an instant please," ex
claimed a caller at the house of a
man of physic, as he saw the latter,
disappearing into his consulting room.
"I'll see you shortly,'? was the curt
reply.
: "But a second Is all I want" per
sisted the caller. ,.
"I'll see you directly," said the other,
sternly. ";.
' The visitor took a seat in the general
reception room, read the afternoon pa
per through, looked at the pictures,
and played with his dog." After thirty
minutes or more had passed the doctor
came out of his den, and, with an air
of condescension, said to the visitor:
"Now, my manr I am at your serr
ltce. Your turn has come. What can
I do for you?" '
"Oh, nothing in particular," was the
reply. "I Just dropped in to tell, you
that your neighbor's three cows have
escaped from the yard, and are having
a picnic among your flower beds."
Yes, Alonzo, it's easier to get a girl
to love you than it is to induce a tailor
to trust you. ;: v V
Faint heart never won fair lady
without a lot of strenuous assistance
on her part ,
To Snrtr Can Pork.
Hogs of 200 to 250 pounds weight
are best for family use. In dressm
a hog It should be so hung that It can
be split down the back, and the shies
allowed to separate, the head being
cut off. The leaf and some otlier sur-
m1us fat should be removed at once.
This allows the meat to cool thorough
ly, and it Is hi good, shape to handle.
The meat barrel should be kept In a
cool place without freezing. A good
way to keep the hams and shoulders
after being cured is to slice and fry
and pack in Jars, covering with hot
lard. Fresh pork may be kept this
way in hot weather, but it must be
thoroughly cooked. While the cured
meat requires much less cooking to
preserve it
'Allow the hog to thoroughly cool be
fore cutting, carefully trim hams and
shoulders andspllt the sides In two
lengthwise. Sprinkle bottom of bar
rel with fine salt and rub each piece
of meat with salt Pack in barrel with
hams on the bottom, shoulders next
and sides on top. After three days
eover the meat with brine made as
follows: Water, 8 gallons; salt 12
pounds; sugar, 3 pounds; saltpeter, 3
unces? concentrated lye, 3 teaspoons.
Boil all together and skim. After cool
ing, pour over the meat Leave In
brine from four to six weeks, then
smoke as desired. The brine should
be strong enough to bear up an egg.
Philadelphia Record.
- Rain and' Ban Proof Coop.
I have a chicken coop which I think
suits me better than any other I have
tried before.- This coop is made out
of cheap lumber. The bottom is hinged
ICR. BECRAPT'8 COOP.
at the-back to the upper part. At the
front I -drive two staples to fasten the
coop, down so as it can be moved
about. The upper part comes down
over the floor all tb,e way so that you
can put a nail through the staple.
The shade in the' front is to keep the
sun and rain out These coops are
very easy to clean. J. C. Becraft in
Poultry Keeper.
Tbe Farm and the Man.
How any farm should be cropped
depends upon where the farm is, its
character .and location. - Some - farms
are by nature pasture farms, . because
they are not adapted to cultivation;
other farms invite tillage. Size, too,
is a controlling- factor. A crop rota
tion and schedule of farm work that
Is admirable for fifty acres may be
wholly impracticable for' five hundred
or a thousand. The ambition to own
and cultivate broad acres is an Ameri
can disease. This disease is not so
much a. desire to add to worldly pos
sessions as it is for a gratification of
the ownership, of dominion; when an
alyzed it will be found to be a feature
of man's kinship with nature.
Another and the most important fac
tor of all . is the man himself. The
man makes the farm good or bad, as
he makes everything else that comes
under his control. The experience of
one farmer is invaluable 'to another,
but each farm is nevertheless a separ
ate and local problem which the farm
er must think out and work out him
self. .. s -
Farming for Profit.
In farming for profit in this country
it belfooves one to listen to the teach
ings of experience gained by farmers
In Great Britain. Robert H. Rew,
chief of the statistical branch of the
British Board of Agriculture, has
brought out the 1 act that during the
last thirty years there has been al
most a steady decrease in the ' area
devoted to grain culture, and' a rela
tively steady. Increase In the . acreage
devoted to pasturage and meadow
lands. The number of cows and heif
ers in milk or in calf Indicates that
the dairy industry has held Its own In
the face of foreign competition much
better than has the growing of grain.
A Ration of Pumpkins.
Pumpkins are a most excellent food
for milch cows, but owing to their
bulky nature and their tendency to
freeze and decay, they are chiefly val
uable as a late fall food, when they
answer a splendid purpose, to be fed
for a couple of weeks while "the cows
are changing from grass: to dried or
preserved fodder. ln some' Instances,
when fed In very large quantities, the
seed has a very stimulating effect on
the urinary system, which may be pre
vented by removing the seed part
A Primitive Threshlnar .Machine.
A common sight in the "agricultural
I districts of Hungary Is two women
treading out grain by means of a
beam. The woman seated on . the
ground takes a bundle of grain and
puts it under one end of the beam.
When the grain is Is place the woman
leaning on the pole for support takes
a step backward which has the effect
of raising the broad, fiat end of the
beam, and making the other end fall
In a hole made for that purpose. Then
a quick step forward, with some little
pressure, brings the thick end of the
beam down on the wheat and flattens
it out so effectually as to separate
the grain from the husks.
Beardless Wheat.
Those who have bad the most ex
perience In combating the hessian fly
are the strongest believers in the late
sowing of wheat1
wherever It can be'
done. . Some varieties ,
are better . for late
sowing than others,
and the two shown ffa
the Illustration seem
iu ue CBievjiaiijr Bull
ed for late sowing.
The center head of
the illustration shows
a beardless sort
known as the Claw
on Longberry. The
variety is a strong lllSDUtM WHS AT.
grower and stools prolifically, the straw
being strong and wiry. The heads are,
full and long and wide. The chaff,
which Is brown, is free from beards.
The grain, which Is of true Long
berry type. Is dark amber In color,
large and long and of the finest qual
ity. The other heads shown are of
the bearded sort Sheaf Longberry
Red, and claimed to be the most per
fect Longberry read wheat grown. It
is one of the hardiest varieties, a
strong, healthy grower, and especially
desirable for late sowing. The straw .
Is strong, though only medium taD.
The chaff is thin and of a peany
white. - The grain is dark and flinty,
and nearly as large as rye kernels.
This variety is much prized as a fancy
milling sort. Indianapolis News.
Care of Winter Apples.
Gathering and storing ; winter apples
Is an Important duty that must be at
tended to before the heavy frosts begin
In the fall. Apples that are to be kept
over winter should be carefully picked
and placed in barrels. After picking
they should be left in tbe open air for
some time, as this tends to thoroughly
ripen them. , They also pass through a
sweat at first, and it is much better if
they can be left exposed so that all sur
face moisture is evaporated. Fruit
should be placed in a cool, dark cellar.
In some instances where there are a
few barrels of specially good apples
the practice Is adopted of wrapping
the apples in paper. This prevents
them from coming In contact with one
another and will insure their keeping.
It usually pays to pick over apples two
or three, times during the winter, ' so
that those- showing signs of decay may
be discarded. Windfalls should never
be placed among apples that are hand
picked. . A plentiful supply of apples
to be used In the family during the
winter will contribute much to the
general healthfulness of every member
of 'the- family. Iowa Homestead.
' Pekin Ducks Are Popnlar.
The Peklns are the most popular and .
probably the most profitable of all
breeds of ducks. They reach heavy'
PAIB OF PEKIN DUCKS.
weights at an early age, lay . a large
number of eggs which hatch well, and
produce strong, hardy ducklings. They
are pure white In color with yellow
bill and legs. As a farmyard fowl
they are somewhat noisier than some
other breeds. Farm and Home.
Farm Notes.
The cow that gets fat Is never the
best one for the dairyman. The good
dairy cow has a good appetite and eats
heavily, but her feed goes to milk rich
In butter fat instead of to the -malting
of flesh.'
A great deal of hay Is .sent to mar
ket that Is full of weeds. , Such hay
brings the lowest price, and also Indi
cates that the farmers who ship It are '
not only careless, but also Ignorant of
the true methods of farming. ,
The Keifer pear is one pf the best
varieties for canning, and is also hardy
and a strong grower, but the supposi-'
tlon that it Is' free from attacks of
blight is not corroborated by growers.
There Is no blight-proof pear. , - .
When it is known that the olfacto-.
rles of a cow are ten times more acute
than those of a man it wduld be seen
at once the necessity for keeping the.
troughs clean and sweet AJlttle feed
left In a trough will' become as dis
tasteful to a cow as It would be for
a man to continue for a week eating
from the same plate without clean- '
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