Oregon City enterprise., October 04, 1877, Image 1

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DEVOTED TO NEWS, LITERATURE, AND THE BEST INTERESTS OF OREGON.
YOL. 11.
OREGON CITY, OREGON, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 4, 1S77.
NO. 50.
if
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SOCIETY NOTICES.
OREGON LODGE, No. 3, I. O. O. F.
Meets every Thursday Evening, ai
7 o'clock, in Odd Fellows' Hall.
Main Street. Members of the Order
ar Invited to attend.
By order of x. Q
REBECCA DEGREE LODGE, No. 2
i. v. vj. i., uicrw on xne second and
Fourth Tuesday Evenings of each month,
.i i , vi twti, iu ma una reuows Hall
MambeM of the Degree are Invited to
FALLS ENCAMPMENT, No. 4.
i. j. u. ., meeia at uaa Fellows' Hall on
the First and Third Tuesday of each month.
Patriarchs in good standing are iuvited to
attend.
MULTNOMAH LODGE, No. I,
ca. i . a. m., nous its regular communi
cations on the First and Third Saturdays
A
in isacn monin
' - ' I'JU AILIi ."A i
of September t.J the 20th of March - an,l Cr
" o'clock from the QOth of M.r.-h tr tv. '
" o'clock from the QOth of M.r.-h A
20th of September. Brethren in good utandin ' are
Invited to attend. By order of W. M.
business cards.
WARREN7 N. DAVIS, M. D.f
Physician and Surgeon,
Graduate of the University of Pennsylvania.
Ofpick at Cupf House.
CHARLES KNIGHT,
CAXBY, OKEGON
Physician and Druggist.
VPreficriptions carefully filled at short notice.
ja7-tf
PAUL BOYCE, M. D.,
Physician and Siirgroii,
OllEUON ClTT, OBEOOS.
Chrouio Diseases and Diseases of Women and
Children a specialty.
Office Hours day and night; always ready when
JutT aug-.. "76-tf
DR. JOHN WELCH,
OFFICE IX OREOOXCITY OREGON'.
Highest cash price paid for County Orders.
JOHNSON & McCOWN,
ATTORNEYS and COUNSELORS AT LAW
OREG0X CITY. OREGON.
Will practice in all the Courts of the Statu.
Special attention given to cases in the United
States Land Office at Oregon City. 3apr'7"-tf
L. T. DARIN,
ATTORXKY AT I, AW,
OREGON' CITY, OREGON.
Will practice iu all the Courts of the State
. Iiovl, Ti-tf
W. H. HICHFIELD,
IjMtubllshod HllHtO -l 1
One door North of Tope's Hall
M AI ST., OBKUOX tITV. OHKu.
ath w VuW'tch"' Jewl'-y. andf?
fofT. WrIS.;,? VD 8"0rt UOtlCt: Dd lh?
Cash Viiia lor County Orders.
JOHN M. BACON,
DUI.ES IN
BOOKS, STATIONERY,
PICTURE FRAMES. MOULDINGS AND MISCEL
LANEOUS GOODS.
ritA9I:.t MADE TO OKIr.It.
Obeoon Citt, Orkoos.
7"At the Post Office, Main Street, west side.
novl, '75-tf
J. R. GOLDSMITH,
-I Kit .V u IV KM'SIA T i: I
Collector and Solicitor,
O PORTLAND, OREGON'.
CCTBest of references given. dec-25-"77
HARDWARE, IRON AND STEEL,
Hubs, Spokes, ltims,
OAK, ASH AND HICKORY PLANK.
xonTiutrr a- Tiio.nr.sox.
ftarSLTC-tf Q Portland, Oregon.
o J. H. SHEPARD,
BOOT AXDSHOESTOUE,
One door North of AcVeriuan Bros.
7"Boots and Shoes made and repaired as cheap
as the cheapest. novl, 75 tf
MILLER, CHURCH & CO.
PAY THE HIGHEST PRICE FOR WHEAT,
At all times, at the
OREGON CITY MILLS,
And hare on hand FEED and FLOUR to sell, at
market rates. Parties desiring Feed mu6t furnish
ess. noYl'Mf
A. C. WALLINC'S
Xionecr ISook Bindery
flttock's Building, cor. of Stark and Front Sts.,
POHTLAXD, OREGON.
1ANK BOOKS RULED AND BOUfD TO ANY
- desired pattern. Music Bocks, Magazines,
k Pp- etc bond in every variety of style
lr'"a.,to the trade. Orders from the country
Promptly attended to. novl, T5-tf
OREGON CITY BREWERY.
wlauIi'X 1p"rchli the above Brewery,CE3
VtaUty Pr'4 U manufacture a No. itfi
A.B0Od.?r vLAQER BEER.
ttKlwJr ioitTf r obnJ anywhere U the State.
aoilcitsd and promptly filled.'
am.
IX THE DAXCE.
But there danced she, who from the leaven
Of ill preserved my heart and wit
All nnawares for she was heaven,
Others at best but fit for it.
I marked her step, with peace elate.
Her brow more beautiful than morn.
Her sometime air of girlish state
Which sweetly waived its right to scorn;
The Kiddy crowd, she gave the while,
Althouxh as 'twere beyond her will.
About her mouth the baby smile
That she was born with lingered still.,
Her bait dresB seemed a breathing mist.
From the fair form exhaled and shed.
Raised in the dance with arm and wrist
All warmth and light unbraceleted.
Her motion, feeling 'twas beloved.
The pensive soul of tune expressed.
And, oh, what perfume, as she moved.
Came from the flowers in her breast !
Coventry I'atmore.
HASSIXU AWAY.
BY ANNIE K. HOWE,
Passing away ; passing away ;
The sweet Summer ixks are passing away;
Their beauty is wasted, their fragrance has fled.
And with'riug they lie in their damp, lowly bed.
The fair, dewy morns in their splendor will rise.
The pale stars grow soft in evenings' clear skieB
But these roses will brighten, ah, never again I
Passing away; passing away;
Bright hopes of my youth how they're pasting
away.
With the beautiful visions that gladden my eyes
By daytime and nighttime, as sunlight the skies I
Oh. hori mav fi-mt haolr oi.nn,..i t a.
Bright dreams from their long-silent chambers luay
eta i.
But those of my youth I may woo all in vain.
For they ne'er will return in their beauty again !
O " j , J,
Friends I have loved how they're passing away I
uoD waicueu mein go uown w that cold, solemn
tide,
While the pale, silent boatman kept close to their
side ;
I've caught the dull dip of their deep, muffled oar.
As he bore them away to that echolexs shore I
And my heart cryeth out in its desolate pain.
But they ne'er will return to bless me again 1
PaHins away; passing away;
. .uvn -i i a iauu wucro luem in uu ueciy,
Where the balmy air's filled with the richest per-
lUUiC
From sweet, fragrant flowers, and fadeless their
V1UV1U ,
Where the soul never grieves as it doth here below.
O'er fair, vanished dreams, o'er hope's fitful glow.
Where 1 1 T V ml i. n .1 f. p.na. la 1 , ..i I 1 , . . ;
And parting words chill us. Oh. never agaiu !
THE BURNING SHIP.
A THRILLING NARRATIVE FROM ADIROND
ACK Murray's new book.
The captain stooJ another instant in
profound thought, duriner which his
quick and fearless mind had considered
all the contingencies, and. without a
word to the three men that were with
him, he started for the deck and the pi
lot house. lie summoned the chief en
gineer and his officers around him, and
stated what he had discovered laid the
whoh subject in a few terse words be
fore them, and said:
"Gentlemen, in five minutes the sa
loons will be like an oven, and the win
dows of this pilot house will bo crack
ing. Have you anything to suggest ?"
lhe lirst oflicer, a sailor from boy
hood, whose head and beard were al
ready gray, said promptly:
"Captain, we must beach her."
The others looked their assent.
"It's our only course," said the cap
tain, "rilot," said he, turning to the
man whose eye was on the lookout, "can
you beach her ?"
The other deliberated a moment, and
said:
"Coptain, I am ready to take any re
sponsibility that a man in my position
should take. I am ready to execute any
order you give, but I will not take the
responsibility of running this steamer,
with six hundred passengers aboard, on
to a coast that I know nothing of beyond
the knowledge that I have of the lights,
the reefs and the harbors. It would be
mere chance if I got her within half a
mile of the shore."
The Captain actually groaned. He
saw and admitted the forco of the 2i
lot's assertion. For a moment not a
word was spoken, while the ship went
tearing on through the water, and the
premonitions of rising tumult came to
their ears from below, showing that the
passengers were already on the move,
lie looked an instant into each face le
fore him, lifted his hand and wiped the
great beads of sweat from his forehead,
and said:
"Gentlemen, whatshall we do? I feel
the iloor under my feet heating. The
passengers are moving out of the sa
loon! What we do must be done quick
ly! We are overloaded. Our boats
wouldn't accommodate half, and besides
a boat couldn't live in such a sea.
What shall we do !"
Not a man spoke. They f At as if the
horror of death were shutting down
around them. They were brave, they
were calm, lhey showed no evidence
of fear. They could meet death as men
should meet it; but they could not tell
how to escape it. buddenly the Cap
tain's face lighted, with a light which
was the reflection of a hope, of a con
iecture, of a possibility. He darted
out of the pilot house, swung himself
down among the crew, who were busy
with the pumps and hose, and shouted.
with the concentration of voice that
penetrated the roar of the storm like a
knife:
"Is there a man here who knows this
coast ?"
When the Captain dropped among
mem tne men stopped their work and
stood staring at him. Only the old
trapper aud Herbert, each of whom
stood above the forward hatch, hose in
hand, directing the streams that the
pumps sent through the swelling tube,
uownwaru, Kept their position. The
Captain waited a moment, whilfl th
light faded from his countenance as no
response came, and then, as if in very
despair, he shouted:
"Is there a man hro who knows this
coast
Again no reply came, and he was on
the point ol turning away when the lad
who had been kneeling under the -pro
tection of the bulwark trying to stop a
rent wnicn ine pressure Had made in
the hose that the old trapper was tend
ing, rose out of the shadow and ap
proaching the tjaptain, saict:
"Yes, sir, I know the coast."
"Who are you ?" said the Captain,
"that claims such knowledge ? Are you
not the youth I saw with the old hunter
at the table to-night ? now should you.
born in the interior, know anything
about this coast ?
"I was not born in the woods," re
sponded the lad; "I was born within
ten miles of where we are, and I know
every rock and reef and point, for I
have fished on them all, and know every
beach, for I used to play on them when
a boy."
The Captain looked incredulous. He
had associated him with the hunter and
the wilderness, and it seemed incredible
that he should have been born where he
aid he was born, and that he should be
on that boat that night, and be discov
ered by the merest accident at the very
instant of supreme peril.
"Cap'n," said the old trapper, who
had drawn nigb, "Cap'n, whatever the
lad says ye can sartinly take for gospel
truth. And if he says ne was born here
he was born here; and if he says he
knows the shore, he does know it; and
ye can rely on him to do what he says
he can do, for his words be truth, and
his acts be like his words."
"Young man," said the Captain,
"have you any other friend on board
besides this hunter?"
"Sartin he has," said the old man an
swering the question for the lad, "there
be Henry there, who has boated with
him and camped with him off and on,
and the lad saved his life once, and
that's a sarvice that a man isn't apt to
forgit. Yis, you may set it down,
Cap'n, that Henry and me be the lad's
friends."
"Call him here," said the Captain,
hoarsely, "and then follow me to the
pilot house."
It was with the greatest effort that the
four were able to reach the point desig
nated, for the gale was blowing with
increased violence, ana the iron rod and
the ropes they grasped to steady them
selves were already hot; and even as
they reached the upper deck the flames
broke fiercely out of the hatchway, and
the lire began to run in wavering lines
along lhe inner timbeia of the bulwark3
and the ornamental edgings of the up
per deck.
"I have called you here," said the
Captain, "to ask you in the presence of
my officers, if there is any safe spot, any
cove or bay, into which the steamer can
be run along the coast abreast of us ?"
"Do you mean to beach her, Captain ?"
asked the lad.
"Yes," he responded, "it is our onlv
chance. We must beach her. Can you
do it?"
"I can," said the lad, simply.
"You can!" exclaimed the Captain:
"do you mean to say, young man. that
you can beach this steamer ? Gentle
men, he continued, as he turned to his
officers, "if this young man can do
what he says, every soul can be saved."
"1 can do just what I tell you I can
do," said the lad; "that is, if the en
gines work, and we can fetch her around
in the sea, and the flames don't get
ahead of us; for there is a light bay
nearly abreast of us, and the water is
deep in it, and the beach is free from
rocks and stones, and I can tell the pi
lot just where to steer to get to it.
"But," said the Captain, and he
spoke with hurried utterance, as one
who feels there isn't a moment to lose,
"you ought to know, and your friends
here ought to know, the danger you
run, for the flames will break out in a
few moments. lou can hear them
roaring under the deck alreadv. The
flames will break out in a moment.
I say; this pilot houso will be
on fire, and he who stands beside it will
stand in the center of flames, and it will
bo through God s mercy if if he comes
out with his life. I feel it to be my sol
emn duty to state these things to you,
young man, and in the presence of your
inenas who are interested in vour life.
Now, knowing your danger, knowing
that you will probably lose your life, I
ask you again, will you pilot this steam
er to that beach ? There are six hun
dred souls on board, and if you do it
you will be their savior. Will 3rou do
it ?"
The lad's face never changed a mus
cle. The light in his eyes may possibly
have darkened a little, and the old trap
per noted that his long, awkward fin
gers shut into their palms with a slight
ly tinged grip, but his voice was quiet
as ever as he said:
"I will help you beach her, Captain."
The Captain hesitated yet a moment.
He knew himself that the lad was going
to his d-ath going with a quietness
that could have only ignorance or the
finest heroism for its cause. It was not
to be wondered at, that, accepting as he
was the sacrifice of a life, he was
touched. He gazed at the singular be
ing before him, observed the simple
guilelessness of his countenance, and,
dashing, a tear from his eye, he turned
to the trapper and said:
"Old man, this boy is your compan
ion, and you love him?"
"Yis; the lad and me have slept to
gether, and we've eaten from the same
bark, and he and me has done little
sarvices for each other that men in the
woods don't forgit, and I guess you're
about right, Cap'n, when ye say that I
love the lad."
"God forbid '."exclaimed the captain,
"God forbid that I take the responsi
bility of the sacrifice for that's just
what it is, old man. Ought the boy to
tay?"
"Sartin, sartin," said the old trapper;
"if the lad can save the wimmen folks
and little uns, not to speak of the men.
by styin' here, then he sartainly ought
to stay, even if he starts on his last trail
from the deck of a vessel instead of from
the shader of a pine; for death never
comes too quick to one who meets it at
the post of duty, and it never comes
slow enough to one who shirks it. Yes,
let the lad stay where he is, and an old
man who has faced death on many a
field where bullets was thick will stand
by his side, and tho Lord of Marcy shall
do with him as he will. I should like
to have seed the pups again; but the
Lord will take care of the dogs."
While this conversation had been car
ried on, the officers of the steamer had
made the arrangements necessary to
steer the craft from the stern; for the
pilot house was already so hot as to
make it unsafe for the four men station
ed at the wheel to remain in it longer.
The ropes and blocks had been adjusted,
the purchase tested, and. the steamer
was already being directed from behind.
The Captain still stood by the side of
the lad, trumpet in hand, ready to give
the orders to veer her around.
"Young man," said the Captain, "you
are pilot now. When shall we swing
about? It's a rough sea; but the flames
give us no choice."
The lad looked steadfastly a moment
at the beacon they had passed, asked
the Captain a question as to her course,
and then said:
"We are passing the cove! Wemusn't
go a rod farther! Quick! Swing her
round 1"
The Captain lifted his trumpet to his
lips, and in tones that rang strong and
clear above the roar of the storm and
the flames, shouted : "Hard-a-port with
your helm ! Hard-a-port I tell you !
Jam her down for your lives!"
The men in control of the helm obeyed
with an energy born of the peril of the
moment. The mighty fabric swayed
for a moment, but tore on as if unwilling
to yield. But the next instant the im
mense pressure of the helm hard-a-port
began to tell, and the monstrous bulk
swung slowly about, rolled downward
into ths trough of the sea as if she
would never rise, reeled over as she met
the mighty wave square amid-ship till
her larboard rail lay deep in the hissing
water, struggling up, righted herself la
boriously, and, as she straightened her
course with the gale square astern, and
with her steam-gauge standing at 75,
shot toward the shore like an arrow from
the bow.
"Cap'n," said the trapper, as he low
ered the trumpet from his lips, "give
us the instrument, and do ye run back
there and keep the poor creeturs from
throwin' themselves overboard for they
bo gettin' wild. I can talk through the
horn as well as ye can and the lad will
tell me the words."
"I can't leave you, old man; it shall
never be said that Charles Stearns left
two brave men to die, while ho saved
his own life."
"Capn," returned the trapper, "I
know yer feelin's; for I see the stuff ye
be made of; but the Lord appints duty
unto man, and it's not of his choosin';
and it's yr duty to go, and ourn to
stay. Don't worry about us, for I be
old, and a few days more or less on the
'arth don't matter, and I can see by the
look in the lad's face that he be ready.
So give me the horn and you go where
you oughter go, and we'll stay where
we oughter stay."
The old man uttered these words with
such solemn majesty, and the truth they
conveyed was so evident, that the Cap
tain did as commanded. He passed the
trumpet to the rapper and started aft,
where his presence and words soon com
municated new hopes to the terrified
throng. In a few moments tho shout
ing and screaming ceased, and not a
sound was heard save the roar of the
wind, and the waves, and the flames.
"Henry," said the trapper, "it's time
yo be goin, for tho fire is gettin' hot.
It's not likely that me and the lad will
come out of this; and there sartinly isn't
much time for leave-takin'. Ye'll go, I
know, and get the pups, and the rifle,
and fiddle. Ye know where they be.
And if there be any other things in the
shanty ye would like, remember they
are yourn. This sartainly isn't the way
I thought things would end; but the
Lord knows when to call, and I dare
say it's the best as it is. So, boy, just
take my hand a minit. Ye needn't dis
turb the lad, for he is busy. No, jest
give me yer hand for a minit, and then
go. Ye bo faithful and true, and may
yer days be happy and yer life Jong on
the 'arth."
"I am not going, John Norton," said
the young man.
"It be well said, boy," returned the
trapper. 'Yis, it be well said ; or would
be if things was different. But things
be as they be, and ye must go."
"I shall not go," said Herbert.
"Henry!" exclaimed the old man earn
estly, "this is downright foolishness.
Ye can't help us by stayin'; and two'll
be enough if wust comes to wust."
"John Norton," returned the young
man, solemnly, "say no more, I shall
stay with you and the lad. If we live,
all will live. If we die, we will die to
gether, for I will not leave you."
"Be it as ye say, then, boy; yis. let it
be as ye say. This is no tim e for words;
and I can understand yer feelin's; and it
may be ye be right. The lad and we
met at the pond of the beavers, and it
may be best we both go with him to the
end of the trail."
In a moment the old man said, sud
denly: "Henry, if ye could git one of
them water pipes, and the pumps are
still a-goin',it may be ye could save our
lives. But be careful where ye go, boy,
for it's hot there ahead."
Lightning is scarce quicker than was
the motion of Herbert, as he darted for
ward into the smoke, which was rolling
up in great volumes from the front part
of the boat.
By this time the forward half of the
vessel was almost one sheet of flame. A
column of fire rose out of the forward
hatch fifty feet into the air, but was
mercifully blown onward by the force
of the gale. From this the trapper and
the lad were at least safe, but the flames
were now breaking over all restraint.
The deck itself was being burnt through,
and section? were falling into the hole.
The stanchions and the timbers of the
bulwarks were already in full blaze.
The outer edges of the upper deck were
girdled with fire. The roof of the pilot
house had begun to kindle. The flames
were already eating their way toward
the stern and would soon be in the reir
of the two men who were standing half
hidden in the smoke at a point which
would soon be the very centre of the
conflagration. But they never flinched.
They stood in the exact position where
they were when Henry left them; the
trapper still holding the trumpet in his
hand, and the lad still gazing steadfastly
ahead.
"Tell them to port two points," said
the lad, quietly.
The old man placed tho trumpet to
his lips, and through the brazen tube
his voice poured steady and strong:
"The boy says, 'Tell 'em to port two
pints.'"
The vessel swayed suddenly to port;
and as she leapt away the lad said :
"Tell them to hold her steady as she
is."
Again the old man lifted the trumpet
and called:
, "The boy says, 'Tell them to hold her
steady as she is.' "
For a minute not a word was spoken.
The steamer tore on through the gloom,
lighting her path with the flames. The
roof of the pilot house dropped in, and
the smoke and cinders hid the two men
from the sight of those who, with pray
ers on their lips and with agonized
faces, were gazing at them from behind.
Suddenly, out of the smoke and fire,
came the tones of the trumpet:
"The lad says, 'Tell 'em I hear the
surf on the beach.' "
Then the smoke suddenly lifted, split
by a gust that tore through the air, and
those behind saw three men instead of
two standing on the deck. The trapper
and the lad still at their station, and
thirty feet further aft Herbert, hose in
hand, flooding with water the blazing
deck on which they stood. But what
could the power of man do against the
rush of such flames? The young man
did his best. With hands blistered by
the awful heat, he stood heroically at
his post; but the garments of the lad
were on fire, and the hair of the trapper
was burnt to the scalp.
Suddenly the starboard half of the
upper deck fell with a crash. As it fell,
those behind saw the lad turn to the
trapper saw him totter saw him steady
himself saw his companion catch him
by the arm saw the old hero, with the
sleeve of his coat, that was itself smok
ing, wipe the cinders from his lips as he
lifted the trumpet to his mouth; and
out of the black, eddying smoke, as it
swept over the three and hid them from
sight, hollowed the words, strong as the
trumpet could sound them:
The lad says, 'Tell them I see the
surf on the beach ! Hold her steady as
she is!' God"
The sentence was never completed.
The flat bottom of the vessel touched
the sand slid along it and was driven
by the momentum of her movement
half her length up the beach. Then she
rolled over with a great lurch; her
smoke-stacks went down with a crash,
carrying the upper deck on which they
stood with them, and the three men
sank from sight in the smoke and lire.
Evenings at Home.
The long evenings which follow the
short days, are made, in some families,
the happiest of all. happy times. The
cares of the day are ended ; the mother's
resting-time has come; the father has
dropped all sorts of business worries
and perplexities, and the whole family
throw themselves with zest into the in
nocent pleasures of the home circle.
Solomon tells us that there is time for
all things; a time to weep and a time to
laugh, to play and to dance. Surely
the time to laugh, to play and to dance
comes most appropriately in the long
pleasant evening hours, when
The carea that infest the day
Fold up their tents like the Arabs,
And silently steal away.
It is well for the women of the house
hold to remember that the pleasant
evenings at home are strong antidotes
to the practice of looking for enjoyment
abroad, and seeking for pleasures in by
and forbidden places; for relaxation and
recreation will be indulged in somehow
by most men, and happy are they who
find in the home circle the diversion
they need. A lively game, an interest
ing book read aloud, or, in musical fam
ilies, a new song to be practiced, will
furnish pastime that will make an even
ing pass pleasantly.
A little forethought during the day,
a little pulling of wires that need not
appear, will make the whole thing easy,
and different ways and means may be
provided for making the evening hours
pass pleasantly, and a time to be look
ed forward to with pleasant anticipa
tions. We visited once in a large fami
ly where it was the duty of each sister,
in turn, to provide the evening's oc
cupation, and there was a pleasant rival
ry between them as to whoso evening
should be the most enjoyable. The
brothers entered fully into the spirit
of ;the simple home entertainments
and were as loth to be obliged to spend
an evening away from home as their
sisters and parents were sorry to have
them absent. Every one spoke of this
family as an uncommonly united one,
for each and every member showed
such a strong attachment for the home
to which each one contributed so much
pleasure.
Family Peace.
1. Remember that our will is like
ly to be crossed every day, so prepare
for it.
2. Everybody in the house has an
evil nature as well as ourselves, and
therefore we are not to expect too much.
3. To learn the different tempers of
each individual.
4. To look upon each member of
the family as one for whom Christ died.
5. When any good happens to any
one, to rejoice at it.
6. When inclined to give any angry
answer, to nil up ine heart in prayer.
7. If, from sickness, pain or infirmi
ty, we feel irritable, to keep a strict
watch over ourselves.
8. To observe when others are so suf
fering and drop a word of kindness and
sympathy suited to them.
9. To wait for little opportunities of
pleasing, and to put little annoyances
out oi me way.
It is astonishing how much mia with
out money can give. A kind word, a
helping hand the warm sympathy that
rejoices with those that rejoice, and
weeps with those who weep. No man
is bo poor, no woman is so poor, as not
io oe auie 10 contriDute largely to the
happiness of those around them.
It is a good rule always to back your
inenas ana iace your enemies.
Can a Poultry Farm Pay ?
This question has been fully answered
in the affirmative by our neighbors, the
French. Hitherto with us the attempt
has ended more or less in failure; but is
that a reason, if a proper method is
adopted, and due care and supervision
exercised, that we should not succeed
in the future ? From the accounts I
have before me of the French poultry
farms, I gather that if we follow their
example and breed for sale, just as or
dinary farmers do their sheep and oxen,
there "is no apparent reason why a fairly
renumerativo profit should not be real
ized by poultry farmers in this country.
1. Let therebe plenty of space in
the open runs. The poultry will find
for themselves much good and whole
some natural food, and so save extra
feeding. 2. Let the home feeding be
regular and liberal, but not excessive;
your birds then will always be in good
health and condition. 3. Whether you
propose producing eggs or meat for the
table, choose suitable breeds for each
object. Do not, however, use .too many
different breeds, as that involves com
plication in your houses, yards, and ac
commodations generally. 4. Let your
personal supervision be constant, and
employ only the best and most trust
worthy assistants.
I have lately read with pleasure, in
Mr. L. Wright's book on poultry, of
the Bellair (French) farm, that if in
tending poultry farmers here took this
as their mode and only improved upon
it so far as their own experience and
that of celebrated poultry breeders sug
gested, they would soon have a sound
system to work on, and success be as
sured. To take another line of argument. A
farm, say of 15 or 20 acres will only
supply a certain number of shtp or
oxen, according to i'.s fertility of soil;
all other feeding stuff, oil-cake, etc.,
will have to bo paid for extra, and that
in high proportion. Calculate out the
product of this in beef and mutton for
the market. So many oxen or sheep at
such and such a weight can be raised,
but what can we say of poultry? In
this case so much does not depend on
the quality and richness of soil; and a
greater weight of poultry at less cost
will bo raised than beef or mutton.
Poultry, it is true, are liable to disease;
so are sheep and oxen. With 20 acres,
too, if properly managed, nearly every
requisite might be raised for the stock
kept. Could this be done in ordinary
farming? There is only one question
that seems to me of vital importance
now left for consideration Is there a
good and conveniently situated market
for your poultry, easy of access, and
where fair wholesale prices can be ob
tained ? If so, I can see no reason to
doubt success. Pacific llural.
Stabilitt. ix Farmixo. There is no
occupation of man that requires for its
successful prosecution more careful
study, more confidence, based upon
knowledge, than agriculture. We see
the want of faith in the conduct of a
large class of farmers, who never seem
to have hit upon the right line of busi
ness. Now they are dairying, having
gone into it when dairy stock was high.
costing a large sum to start; but, the
product having leen depressed for a
few months, all confidence is gone in
the future of the dairy industry, and
their cows are sold at a heavy loss. J ext
they take to sheep; but wool soon has
its turn of depression, and confidence
is lost in this industry, and its aban
donment follows. Hops now become ;
their hobbv. Fifty cents per pound is 1
quite too alluring; but when their crop
comes, a season of plenty has returned
and down goes the price to ten cents.
Woe meets them here I lhey turn in
disgust from their thrifty vines, and
seek their neighbors to whom they sold
their cows. And now begins the dairy
again this business of battledore and
shuttlecock, "everything by turns and
nothing long." These are the farmers
who talk loudest that farming does not
pay. They do not give it time to pay
in any direction. They are to bo pitied.
They have no faith in anything they
float with the current. How strange
that they should not see that every great
agricultural industry is founded'on the
wants of society, and that these needs
continue ever the same, the price of the
product being governed entirely by de
mand and supply. Each branch must
have its fluctuation in price, and the
only way to determine the profits is to
take the average of ten years. This av
erage will show fair prices for dairy
products, for wool, for beef or mutton,
for hops, for fruit, aud for every pro
duct of the farm. The mole-eyed man
who can only see one year's returns, and
tries to govern his action bv that, will
always find himself in the cob of the
tide.
Firm Butter Without Ice. From
W. P. Hazard's treatise on butter-making
we extract the following : In fami
nes, or where the dairy is small, a good
plan to have butter cool and firm with
out ice is by the process of evaporation.
as practiced in India and other warm
countries. A cheap plan is to get a very
large sized, porous, earthen flower-pot,
with an extra large saucer: half fill the
saucer with water; set it in a trivet or
light stand such as is used for holdintr
hot irons will do; upon this set your
butter; over the whole invert the flower
pot, letting the top rim of it rest in and
be covered by the water; then close the
hole in the bottom of the flower-pot,
and repeat the process several times a
day, or whenever it looks dry. If set
in a cool place, or where the wind can
blow on it, it will rapidly evaporate the
water from the pot, and the butter will
be as firm and cool as if from an ice
house.
Small farms, well tilled, make a
happy and prosperous people, , for the
small farmer, if he possesses ordinary
intelligence and experience, is always
in easy circumstances. He cultivates
every foot of his land without exhaust
ing his accumulations. He is constant
ly reaching out for more, but continues
to make the best of what he has.
Shipping ftfrrnt Around tho World.
Facts are now coming to light which
may enable us to ship meat to England
just as we ship wheat, and laugh at the
high rates of freight overland. - These
facts have resulted from the inquiry
provoked by the successful shipment of
meat from the Eastern States to Eng
land, as to how long and over how great
distances the refrigerating process would
preserve the flesh from decay. The
trial was from the great cattle-producing
country of South America, drained
by the Rio de la Plata, and the result is
such as to call forth the following para
graph from the Mark Lane Express, of
London, which has evidently been
watching the movement : "The Frigori-
fique, whose movements have been re
ported from time to time in these col
umns, arrived at Rouen on Saturday,
the 11th inst., in accordance with the
telegram we published last week. It
will be remembered that this ship is
fitted with a refrigerating apparatus,
and that she went to the River Plata for
an experimental cargo of fresh meat. A
considerable fime was taken i.j in load
ing her cargo from various ports, and
112 days altogether have elapsed from
the time she commenced loading until
her arrival at Rouen. Part if the cargo
has been sent to Paris, and the Frigori
fique is expected in London during the
week with the remainder. A portion,
however, was sent last week by boat and
rail to the Cold Storage wharf, in
Thames street, where we had the oppor
tunity of examining the carcasses of
beef and mutton which had been sub
jcted to this most extraordinary trial.
Notwithstanding the very unfavorable
conditions of transit and temperature to
which this meat had ben exposed since
it was t ken out of the refrigerating
chambers f the vessel, it was perfectly
sweet aud good; the exposed surfaces
were dried up, and a loss ly evapora
tion ebtimatt-d ut nearly 30 per cent,
of its entire wtight had taken place,
but not the slightest trace of decompo
sition could be found. The successful
issue of a trial which has been protract
ed far beyond the time in which similar
cargoes can be obtained from Australia,
is of vast importance to the consumers
and producers of this country, for,
practically, the resources of the w!iole
world are now placed within our reach."
If the movement, as above described,
proves as practicable in wide applica
tion as it has in an experimental way,
there is a possibility of our admission
to the ranks of the meat supply of Eng
land, via ocean transit, unless railway
rates overland are reduced. If the Isth
mus canal should be realized, there
would no doubt be a turning of ship
ments westward to our port, which
otherwise might go from Eastern ports.
The experiment of shipping dressed
beef eastward by rail from Nevada is
being prosecuted. We read in the Sil
ver Slate that a refrigerator car has been
engaged, and that the meat will be con
tributed by the leading cattle breeders.
What is the method employed in the
system known as "frigorillque" is an
swered by the following description. It
is from the correspondence of the New
York World : The "frigorifique" is en
tirely dissimilar to the system used ty
the exporters from this country, that
neither ice, salt nor saltpetre is used.
The air is purified and dried by a dif
ferent process, without the use of ice.
The machine will run for three years
without being recharged. In a com
partment of 14,000 cubic feet the saving
in cost by not using ice, estimating 3
per ton for 50 tons of ice, and economy
of space at 27s. Gd. sterling per ton of
cubic feet, is 750 per voyage between
Aew iork and Liverpool. Ice, for a
long sea voyage, is totally impracticable,
from its moisture and from the space
required. It may interest your readers
to know that an arrangement has been
made with the Tiffany Refrigerator Car
Company, of Chicago, Charles Jb . i"ierce
manager, to transport to the seaboard
perishable articles for shipment to Great
Britain, where they will be again trans
ported by the same company to their
ultimate destination.
Healthful Hours. When the days
are hot and the nights cool, says Halts
Journal, there are periods of time with
in each 24 hours when it is safest to bo
in-doors, with doors and windows
closed that is to say, for the hour or
two including sunrise and sunset be
cause about sunset the air cools, and
the vapors, which the heats of the day
have caused, to ascend far above us, con
dense and settle near the surface of the
earth, so as to be breathed by the in
habitants. As tho night grows colder
these vapors sink lower and are within
a foot or two of the earth, so they are
not breathed. As the sun rises, these
same vapors are warmed and begin to
ascend, to be breathed again; but. as the
air becomes warmer, they are carried so
far above our heads as to become innoc
uous. Thus it is that the old citizens
of Charleston, S. C, remember that,
while it was considered important to
live in the country during the summer,
the common observation of the people
originated the custom of riding into
town, not in the cool of the evening or
of the morning, but in the middle of
the day. They did not understand the
philosophy, but they observed the fact
that those who came to the city at mid
day remained well, while those who did
so early or late suffered from it.
All strangers at Rome are cautioned
not to cross the Pontine marshes after
the heat of the day is over. Sixteen of
a ship's crew, touching at one of the
West India Islands, slept on shore sev
eral nights, and thirteen of them died of
yellow fever in a few days; while of 280
who were freely ashore during the day,
not a single case of illness occurred.'
The marshes above named are crossed
in six or eight hours, and many travel
ers who do it in the night are attacked
with mortal fevers. This does at first
sight seem to indicate that night air is
unwholesome, at least in the locality of
virulent malarias; but there iano direct
proof that the air above sunrise and
sunset is not that which is productive
of the mischief.
o