r
BAMBOOZLING GRANDMA.
fa %. .
V.'
tiAvor wm a grandma half so Rood!”
He whispered while boaldu hor chair ho stood,
And laid his rosy ehteU.
Wtlh manner very meek,
Afhtnst her dour old face in loving mood
••There never was a nicer grandma born;
X know some little boys must bo forlorn
i Because they’ve none like you,
1 wonder vr mt I d do
without a grandma s kisses ni^ht aud morn?”
••There never was a deiror erandrnd. there!”
He kissed her and ho smoothed her snow-whlto'
hair;
Then fixed her rufiled cap.
Anct nestled in nor lap.
while vrandma, smiling, rocked her old arm
chair.
•When I’m a man what things to you I'll bring;
A horse aud carria e. and a watch and ring.
All grandmas are so nlco
(Just hero ho kissed her twice).
And grandmas give a good boy everything.’*
Before his dear crandmi could roply
This boy looked up. and with a ro.utsh cyo,
Then wnisporod in her ear.
That uni-.ody might tioav
••Say, grandma, have you any more mince pic?**
BLIND JUSTICE.
BY HELEN B* MATHERS.
CHAPTER II—Continued,
Ho made no ado about kissing' tho
book, but when tho first damning
question was hoard, 1 saw him set
hU tooth hard, and his mouth and
jaw hardened. Stoeir still he stood,
looking at tho man who addrossod
him, but not ono syllable passed his
lips.
The question was rupoatod, this
time angrily, but not ovon a shado
of expression crossed Stophen Croft’s
foaturcs in roply, noithor sullen nor
obstinate did ho look, but simply a
man who had made his mind up,
and who would not unmako. it (or all
tho applied force in tho world.
Ho did not look at'Judith, ovon
when "Do ’eo spnko now!” oroko'
from hor lips, and silent as a stone
ho stood through the war of words
that raged around him, silent when
the judge addressod him with no un
kindly words, before committing
him to prison for contempt of court,
urging him to answer, as tho admis
sions ho had previously mado about,
tho prisoner had boon duly taken
down, and his silonco now could
not effect her ono way or tho
other. But tho fair Crock lines of
his fuee .never yloldod iu a single
lino, until just boforo his removal,
then a pang crossed it. as he roali/.eu
that ho would no Longor bo able to
stand beside* Judith, and with an
earnoet "Keep a good heart my
lass!'' and a look of love .transfiguring
hisjjface, ho oaught, her "God bloss
thoo, Stove!” as ho wailed .out. ,
CHAPTER III. Y
\ Ilor face changed as ho disappear
ed, for a moment an almost cnddish
look of loneliness pervaded her
figuro, then' sho drew liersolf 10
' ■ getber, and looked as strong and
serein; as before.
More triumph shone in her eyes,
and sho glanced at the spiteful
woipou in the body of the court with ]
almost a smile on her lips. Was ho
; not faithful, her man who would not
break his oath, but who was content
to suffer imprisonment rather than
give witness against hor5
Thou the notes taken down of 1
her husbaud’s admissions, clearly
wrung from him in his agony, wero
- road aloud, but still the brightness
, „ Of her faco did not chango.
,Jako Gooi’ge was the next witness
called, a striking contrast to the
silent, splendid man who had faced
■ i ’> tho courts a few minutes ago, and
whoso volubility was far more irri
tating than Stephen’^ dumbness had
been.
Jake was tho husband and tool of
tho most bittor-tonguod shrew in tho
Jr » village, and as hor mouth-piece
;V could have poured out his venom
upon Judith by the hour, had he not
been smartly ohockou, and brought
to book by his questioner. Shorn
of irrelevancies and spite, his story
was this: I
’■liis business took him close to
Smuggler's liolo on a oertain night,
or perhaps he was only passing it.
any way when ho saw a man dressed I
in a pilot coat, outside clothes ho
should describe as ‘'fancy,” dodging
,about outside tho houso, making us
if ho were iu doubt whether to go in [
o: not ; he stoppod to see what it all
meant, and prSkontly tho man liftod
the lutch and went in, shutting tho
dopr behind him. Asked if he peep
ed, Jack boldly admitted that he did,
but couldn’t see so much as her
shoe-strings, the blinds were down,
, but he could make out the glint of a
fire through it, and catch the sound
of voices His wife had always said
•that Judith wculd bo caught one of
these days, and only behaved her
self because folks were looking, and
at tho timq he didn’t think tho man
was up to any good there, aftor |
dark, and with such queer rags. He '
hadn't seen his face, and didn’t ;
think of Seth Treloar. Didn’t stay 1
at the wiudow long for fear Stove
Croft should come baok and catch
him there, but thought he’d stop and |
seo the game out.,, Sat'down by tho
cliff, a bit of a way off—may be a
, hundred yards, and stayed there till
Steve came home. Nobody came
out during that time, and he went
down to tho village, riled at wasting
so much time for nothing. Told his
wife and she was angry. She liked
. a story with a tail to It^and this
hadn't got one, and ho thought no
more of it till tho landlord found a
man's body in tho house.”
The owner of t-muyglors’ Holo
next entered the box. Ho was a
stout and prosperous man. who also
owned tho “Chough and Crow.” aud
was not dependent on his net for a
living.
Ho said that ho was irom home
when his tenants left, aud on his re
turn, he went t> the house, and found
the .key in u hiding-place upon which
he-hod Stephen Croft had previously
agree id' On entering the house,
though the blind was drawn, ho
noticed at once the open trap-door.
and the plato of broken victuals bo
sido it He let the daylight in, and
looking down through the open
square in the iloor. sow a heap of
something lying about twenty foot
below, but not until he had obtained
a candle, discovered that it was the
body, lying face downwards, of a
man. He procured help and a lad
dor. by the aid of which ho descend
ed, but had some difficulty in lifting
tho corpse, os its hands, dug dcoply
into the mould, had stiffened there,
while liis teeth literally bit tho dust.
Tho expression of his foatures was
loss one of pain thun of intense hun
ger, though his body was well nour
ished, and his clothes, mode in the
fashion of somo foreign country,
spoke of his prosperity. Below the
chest, and across the arms was se
cured tho ropo by which he
had evidently been lowered from
above (but cross-quoslioned on this
point witnoss admitted that tho rope
was not tightly drawn, so that a
powerful man might easily struggle
or jork himself out of it), a portion
of similar ropo being socuroil to a
strong hook just hesido tho trap
door. His own irapressitm at tho
time was. that somebody had dragged
and hidden him there, arranging for
his cscapo when ho came to himself,
and ovon providing him with food to
oat whon ho camo to. Thought the
man diod of heart seizure, or visita
tion of God, or of fright, till tho
coroner’s inquest proved that ho died
of poison. Was astonished to find
that food was found in his stomach,
from his look ho would have thought
ho had boon slowly perishing of
famine for days. Saw a bottio of
stuff in the cupboard that smelt of
narcotic; was aware that tho soeret
of making it was known to a few
women In the village, that it was de
cocted out of herbs, and that its
strength rather Increased than waned
with years. Ho had heard it said
(though he didn’t listen to gossip)
that Judith had more than onco
given a doso of it to Seth Troloar,
when he was in one of his mad-drunk
furios, but that lie never guessed it,
only foil asleep and woke in a better
tempor. That was tho only bit of
scandal he had’ ever heard about her.
Even now he did not believe her
guilty, though facts might be ugaiust
her.” - • '
When the burly fisherman left the
box he loft a distinct impression of
good sense and good feeling, and
some of tholso prosont muttered that
ho should havo been called as a wit
ness for the defense and not for the
q»-4$ocution.
. The doctor’s evidence was short,
and to tho point.* In h'eth Treloar’s
body ho had found enough arsenic to
kill three or four people, and traces
pf a powerful narcotic that would
havo tho effect of cutting short his
agony after swallowing tho poison,
?<', that ho would actually die with
out pain and unconscious.
Cross-examined as to whether a
man who hnd swallowed a deadly
irritant would bo likely to refrain
from crying out, Dr. Trevelyan said
it would bo most unlikely, evon with
a man of severe self-discipline and
iron will, and in the last degree im
probable with an ignorant and no
toriously passionate man. Short of
a blow that would have instantly
stunned him (of which there was no
trace) ho could not havo escaped tho
soverost agonies immediately after
swallowing tho doubly hocussed
drink, which, by tho way, ho must
have tossed off at a draught. Tho
man had been dead over three days
when ho saw him, and he could not
account, for the wolfish look of hunger
in his face, for in his stomach was a
large quantity of undigested food,
indicating that he had eaten heavily
shortly beforo ho drank the fatal cup.
Tho body was extremely well nour
ished, the skin and hair remarkably
sleek and glossy, the complexion
cleqr, while tho solidity of the flesh
spoke to excellent powers of di
gestion. Ho looked like a man in
the very prime of life who might
have lived to bo old but for the acci
dent that out short his existence.”
When Dr. Trevelyan left the box I
knew that here again was a witness
whose evidence was distinctly in
favor of Judith, and how, but for
me, the case against her must in
evitably have broken down.
And then my name was called, and
when I left the witness-box, I knew
by the faces of tho jurymen that
Judith was virtually a condemned
woman.
CHAPTER IV.
As I turned in at the jail-gates, 1
knocked against Stephen Croft com
ing out, his face dulled and wrung
with disappointment I guessed
that he had been refused admittance
to Judith, and this I thought un
human.
‘•Como with me,” I said, “and I
will try to persuade the governor to
lot you in with mo.”
He could not change the look of
hate that came always into his eyes
when he saw me, but he followed "mo
like a patient drtg, and after some
difficulty I got the required permis
sion, and these two, to whom each
made the whole world of the other,
were face to face.
1 or a while I was deaf and blind
to them, but presently I said:
“Judith, I believe you are an in
nocent woman—toll mo if what I be
lieve is the truth. ”
The scorn in Judith's eyes was
boundless as the sea, but she re
mained silent: it was tho man who
spoke. . ,
“Xobbut a fool ’ud iver ha’ doubt
ed her,” ho said.
This was a strong speech from a
m^n of Stephen’s gentie character,
and I found tho two pairs of brown
and hi uc eyes hard to meet.
“And I was that fool,” Isaid; “but
before God 1 will undo my follv if I
can. ”
“Saw,” he said sadly, •• ’ee can'st
ne'er do that ’Tie thou has wove
tho,strands aboot her bonnle neck,
an* all ’cos ’eo must blab to what
warn’t no business ’o thine. An’ I
wish my tongue was rotted i’ my
head afore I’d spoke them words as
war brought up agon her aftorwardo
—but ’twas thy wark, man, d’ thy
wark. ”
Judith turned and kissed passion
ately the mouth that had ignorantly
borne testimony against her.
‘•I’d rather ha’ a curse from this
wan—tho on’y wan—than th’ luv o’
all tho world,” she cried; and he
kissed her back with all his heart
As on tho ilrst occasion of my
hearing her speak, the woman’s
voice jarred upon mo; she looked a
Semiramts, and sho spoke like a
daughtor of the people.
“Judith,” I said, “your counsel
imagined certain things to have oc
curred on the night Seth Troloar
came home. Did ho guess truly?”
Sho looked at me indifferently.
“Iss,” sho said, “but what do’t
siggorfy naw? ’Tis all adono wi\
an’ yo’d take me fo’ a fool if I up an’
told’eo th’ truth.”
“No, I should not,” I said, “and
what is more, I should believo you.
I want to holp you, but you must
help yourself by tolling mo exactly
what happoned that night.”
Judith looked at Stephen.
“Shall I tell ’un?” sho said.
“M’appen him ’ull know then what a
fule ’un has been. Iss, I’ll tell ’ee,
I tho’ ’tis waste ’o time, an’ I’d rayther
j bo talkin’ to him, yon.
j “Wa-al, 1 war sittin’ by th’ Are th'
j nicht afore we was t’ sail io’ Australy,
thinkin’ o’ my baw, an’ a bit fainty
hearted at leavin' th’ old place (us
had teen main happy, hadn’t us,
lad)? when steps corned along th'
path an’ somebody gie’d a bang at
th’ door. I s’posod ’twas some gig
let or rapskallion corned fro’ th’ vil
lage t’ jeer at me, so I jist bided
quiet, then a body swored out, an’
in come a man—’twar Seth Treloar.
“1 gied a yellook ’ce moight ha’
heard a moile, an’ him jest larfs an’
sos’ ‘Your’m purtier nor ’iverl’ an’
ups t’ kiss me. . *If ’ee touches me,’
ses I, ‘I’ll murder ’ee’ an’ he larfs
aeon, an’ 6os„ ‘I see yer temper’s so
sweet as over ’twas,’ an’him thrawed
hisself into a chair, an’ keeps on
larfin’. ”
“ ‘I ’spectod to find ’ee married
agen,' him said, ‘th’ seven years is
up, an’ you’m free, ’sposin’ wo’tn ony
brother an’ sister t’ wan anithor now?’
“ ‘Wi’ a’ my heart,’ say I, strainin’
my ears fo’ th’ sound o’ Steve’s han
upo’ thJ latch. I knowod I war
thrust out o’ my bit hebben into
hell
“ ‘If ’ee means that.’seshe, lookin'
hard towards me, .* us’ll be the boon
ist irons as ever war. Thar’s a baw
out yon in Styria as clapped his eyes
on yer picter, an’ he be jest mad
about ’ee, an’ when I tells ’um you’m
my sister, he ups an’ swnres to mar
ryin’ ’ee, an’ gi’es me no pace till I
sets out to fetch ’ee. Will ’ee come?
’Ee ’ll have gold an’ fine clo’ an’ sich
lashins as ’ee never see the like o’
here, an’ e’s a line baw, as ’ull be
good to ’ee, a sight bettor’n I iver
war. ”
“I said niver a word, I war just
listeuin’, listenin’ for Stephen’s steps.
“ Wa-al.’ ho ses,‘we’ll talk more o’
that bim'by. I doant look much
loike th’ ragged ne’er-do-weel as
runned away fro’ ’ee do I? Awh, t’is
a foin life out yon in Styria, all the
haws is lusty an’ strong over there.
Jos look to this!’ An’ he rolled up
his furrin’ sleeve, an’ showed a arm
as ’ud llummax an ox.
“ ‘Us don’t drink much over thar,’
sez he, w’ a curious sort o’ larf, ‘us
knows o’ somethin’ better stuff as
you poor fules ’ud reckon as a bit
different to what us dus, stuff as
makes ’ee strong, an’ yer skin sleek,
an’ yer hair t’ shine, but I ain’t a
goin’t’ tell ’ee wot ’tis. Has ’ee got
a drink o’ milk any.wheres?’
“Iss,’ ses I, listenin’ for th’ sound
o’ Stove's foot, an’ I wraps my cloak
closer about mo, an’ I goes t’ th’
cupboard, an’ thar th’ devil wor
Waitin’ fo’ mo, as’t is aisy now t’ see.
[TO BE CONTINUED. ]
If© Wanted to Know.
A little boy whose experience with
elevators has been a very limited
one was brought into tbo city a few
days ago by his mamma, and in the
course of two or three hours’ shop
ping the little fellow was taken up
and down in different stores a good
many times.
Finally the two went in an office
building, took chairs in a rather
small room and waited.
••Where are wo' now, mamma?”
asked the boy.
“In Uncle lfob’s office.”
He glanced around the rather con
tracted quarters and then asked:
“When does it go up?” — Texas
Siftings. ...
Spoiled Ills Calculations.
“Don’t you like the room I gave
you?” said the hotel clerk to the
drummer from Cincinnati.
“Yes, the room’s all right. What
made you ask? Do I.look worried?”
“To be frank, you do.”
“Well, I am feeling rather uncom
fortable. You see I came over on the
S. L. O. and W. road.”
“Got 4n late, I suppose.”
“No, we got in on time, and now I
have about two and ono-hulf hours
on my hands that I don’.t know what
to do with. ”—\\ ashington Star.
Ills Appointing.
“Sister,” said the little boy, “will
you please make me a lot of biscuit,
| like those you gave us for breakfast
j tho other day?”
Sister was touched. They were
I the first cheering words Johnny had
j spoken to her in a long time.
1 . “Certainly,” she answered. “Are
1 you going to have a party?”
1 “No; 1 wanted to try them in my
now slung shot.”
' - * \. iiii 'lig:
Frodt In Colorado Farms.
On account of the fertility of tho
soil. the superiority of the climate and
the great advantages of irrigation,
Colorado is peculiarly adapted for the
successful operation of small and
medium-sized farms, if conducted by
men of intelligence, experience and
enterprise, and there is perhaps no
greater opportunity for this class of
farming in any state of the Union than
at present exists in Colorado. Over
five million of dollars is annually sent
from Colorado to other states for the
purchase of small farm products which
this state could and should produce.
The soil of Colorado ranges from
light sandy loam to the deep alluvial.
A large percentage of the soils are of
scoriae origin, rich, productive and
easily worked. They are suitable for
the crops of all the eastern states and
for many of the crops of the states
north and south. No better climate
exists for agriculture in its various
forms. The freezing of winter is suf
ficient to secure a mellow, clodless
soil for spring plowing and planting.
The springs are usually early, with
sufficient precipitation to germinate
all crops without irrigation. Under
the influence of perfect summer days
coupled with the superior benefits of
irrigation, the growing crops are
forced to early and complete maturity.
The characteristic mildness of late
autumn weather gives exceptional op
portunities for the harvest of root
crops and the last cutting of alfalfa,
while the splendid winter climate af
fords excellent conditions for stock
feeding.
Irrigation is of great advantage be
cause of its positive security against
drouth. Tlie water, with its rich min
for many years to come. Taking the ■
average of crops and prices actually
obtained during 1893, as reported by
the Denver Fruit Growers’ association,
the following were the money, yields
to the acre for small fruits and vege
tables: Strawberries, 8350, black
berries 8<>00, raspberries 8400, currants
S.'iOo, onions 820i,, celerv 8450, cabbage
8100. The establishment of more fruit
preserving factories will increase the
demand for small fruits. As to toma
toes, the average yield to the acre is
10 tons and the canning factories pay
50 cents per 100 pounds or 8100 an acre,
but as a matter of fact, the great bulk
of the crop is sold at much higher
prices in the retail markets and only
the surplus taken to the canning fac
tories, which, however, put up an
nually considerably over 1,000 tons,
besides large quantities of peas,
beans, pumpkins, etc., while the
pickle factories put up hund
reds of tons of cucumbers, cauliflower,
onions and the like. A factory recent
ly paid §1,500 to one grower for three
acres of pickling onions Similar in
teresting particulars could be given,
did space permit, of the. returns, rang
ing from 8200 to 81,000 an acre, from
orchards, according to age.
POULTRY FARMING.
As an adjunct to a small Colorado
farm there is no industry that will
yield a more profitable return on the
capital invested than poultry. Colo
rado is now sending other states over
81,000,000 a year for eggs and table
poultry, but the people of the state
are steadily awaking to the fact that
it is really cheaper to pay a higher
price for home-raised eggs and fowls
than for inferior imported* eggs and
poultry. Near the cities poultry farmers
get from private customers as high as
35 cents a dozen the year round, and
from 10 to 15 cents more than the
average store price for fowl.
Absorbent.
AlliU
TOe best use that can be made of
coal ashes is to sift and put them na
der the hen roost as an absorbent
says a writer in “American Poultrv
Advwsate.” Sifted coal ashes absorb
liquids, fix volatile ammonia, thuspre
venting offensive odors. But with
wood ashes it is different The worst
possible use you can make of wood
ashes is potash, which makes it a verv
valuable manure. But put under the
hen roost the potash mixes with the
ammonia-another valuable element
in the hen manure and the potash is
changed to the volatile carbonate of
ammonia and away it goes up among
the fowls, perhaps doing much dam
age to them. After the heat has sub
sided you have a manure that
isn t worth very much. This process
is generally termed heating. Coal
ashes “fix” the ammonia so that it
does not heat and yet the ammonia is
retained all the same and you have a
valuable manure. Some people say
that you should never put wood ashes
where the hens can wallow in theip,'
claiming that the potash in the ashes
will make sores on the legs and bodies
of the fowls. Now it will not do this
unless the ashes or the fowls’ bodies
are wet, and we claim that this is the
real use of wood ashes in the
- — poultry
yard. You can have a box with a cover
in which to keep the ashes, shutting
the cover down on wet or rainy days
when the fowls’ bodies are liable to bo
wet. The ashes will be a great help
to the fowls in keeping off insect pests,
and they will find quite a little char
coal in the ashes which will aid in di
gesting .their food and correcting
bowel disorders. We think too it
A PAIR OF BUFFCOCHINS.—From an Indiana Poultry Yard.
eral ingredients may be applied in
proper quantities when needed, insur
ing thereby successful crops. Farmers
unaccustomed to irrigation readily
acquire a practical knowledge* of it
and infinitely prefer it to dependence
on natural rainfall to which they have
previously been accustomed.
A GOOD HOME MARKET.
One-half the population of Colorado
lives in cities and towns of the plains,
more than one-fourth in mining dis
tricts, furnishing a good home market
for the products of the less than one
fourth living in rural districts. As a
matter of fact, Colorado is annually
sending to other states about 81,000,
000 for dairy products, 81,500,000 for
pork supplies, over $1,000,000 for poul
try produce and considerably over
$1,000,000 for fruits, all of which ought
to be raised at home.
The’ie is a growing public sentiment
on the part of the citizens of Colorado
to give the preference in their pur
chases to Colorado products, not only
to encourage home industries, but be
cause of their superior quality:
DAIRYING.
While dairying is annually growing
in importance, the creameries and
cheese factories throughout the state
have often more local orders than they
can supply. The fact is there are not
nearly enough milch cows in the state
to supply the home market for dairy
products. While some of the dairy
men are conducting the business on
the most improved methods and conse
quently making money, others, who
sell milk to the creameries, keep cows
which do not yield above eight quarts
per da}' and do not milk some of their
stock to exceed three months in the
year, in fact, they are simply -range
stock producing calves and some milk.
The creameries pay an average price
the year round of 85 cents per 100
pounds for fresh milk, and keep only
_ the separated cream. The cheese fac
’ tories pay about 8 cents per 100 pounds
more than the creameries and return
the whey to the farmers. The average
annual wholesale price of Colorado
creamery butter is as cents a pound.
There is a state law against oleo and
a state dairy commissioner to see to
its enforcement If more cows were
kept in Colorado and more butter and
cheese made, the by-products would
result in a greater number of hogs be
ing raised and fattened, and Colorado
would no longer, as now, send 8750,
000 per annum to other states for live
hogs and an additional 8750,000 for hog
products
(ERUITRAISING AND MARKET GARDENING.
Colorado does not yet produce more
than 20 per cent of the fruit it con
sumes, and notwithstanding the great
l increase during recent years of the
i nrea planted to fruit, principally or
chards, it is not at all likely that the
supply will equal the home demand
»( PRICE OF LAND. _
From the foregoing it will he seen
that small farms, say of about forty
acres, thoroughly cultivated, devoted
to dairying, hogs, poultry, fruit and
market gardening, have a home mar
ket for their products. The present
Colorado farms usually run in size
from 80 to 320, or even a greater num
ber of acres, and many are now ready
for subdivision, but small farms can
frequently be purchased, leased or
rented. The price varies according to
proximity to city and railroad, rang
ing from over 8200 down to 820 per
acre, including water rights.
AN EVER INCREASING MARKET.
The recent marvelous development
of gold mining in Colorado, with its
even more wonderfully certain future;
the vast coal fields and equally vast
iron and other mineral deposits of
Colorado; together with the certain
great manufacturing futures of Denver
and Pueblo, in addition to the steady
influx of population, all guarantee an
ever increasing Colorado market for
farm products, and there is rfo reason
whatever why they should be imported
from other states.
Wheat in Maryland.
The Maryland Experiment station
in its summary for the past year in its
report says: The only experiment made
with wheat was with varieties; forty
kinds having' been tested. The ground
was thoroughly prepared, and the
wheat sown the latter part of Septem
cer; 600 pounds of fertilizer per acre
was applied; the nitrogen in this being
supplied by nitrate of soda, and fish
scrap. The idea in using the two
forms being—that the nitrate, acting
as it does very promptly, would give
the wheat a good start in the fall; and
the fish scrap, being slower in its ef
fects, would take up the work after
the nitrate had been exhausted. In
midwinter a top dressing of stable
manure was applied, with a manure
spreader, and about twenty bushels of
stone lime to the acre. On harvesting
and threshing it, a most gratifying re
turn was the result; the forty varie
ties averaged 33.2 bushels per acre—
seven of them exceeded 40—and two
made over 47 bushels per acre.
Horticulture and Irrigation.—In
the recent irrigation agitation, horticul
ture has had a prominent notice. When
land is handled under irrigation and
the supply of water is under control,
it pays better to raise a horticultural
crop worth $500 or $1,000 an acre than
to grow some common farm cereal
worth $10 or $15 an acre. The irrigated
counties of western Kansas show a
noteworthy tendency to horticultural
pursuits.
; Of course every dairy farmer has
laid in a supply of ice for next sum
mer's use. Jt is something you need
| in your business.
would be a good plan to have a box of
sifted coal ashes for the hens to dust
in.
Bedding for the Farm Stock.
In supplying bedding for the stock
one should consider not only the ques
tion of the comfort of the animals and
the cheapness of the material, but also
the question of manure making, writes
W. E. Farmer in “American Cultiva
tor.” We can not afford to use cheap
bedding freely, that will injure the
manure pile, nor anything that will
not add to its value. On the other
hand, the stock should never be
neglected in this way, even though
bedding is somewhat expensive. Ani
mals confined in close winter quarters
will naturally soil themselves unless
good bedding is supplied, and this will
always affect their health in the end.
The bedding acts as a good absorbent,
and cleans out the stable better than
any other thing. It pays to furnish
good bedding, even if we get no benefit
from it other than of improving the
health of the stock. but bedding
that makes good mapure pays well.
It is sometimes the most profitable
way to use surplus material on the
farm. If used' judiciously, so that it
will absorb all of the liquids of the
Stable, it saves the farmer more than
it costs to supply it to tne
Many consider bedding only as valua
ble in making the animals more com
fortable, and hence they neglect to pro
vide it in sufficient quantity.
straw and litter will all be sold on the
farm for a mere song, while the stoei,
goes without good bedding, and t e
farm is being robbed of the plant foo
it is crying so loudly for. Unless straw
can be sold at a good price it is better
to use all that is possible for the stable
where the stock is kept through e
winter. Good rye and wheat straw
make the best" bedding, and this wi
absorb all of the liquid in the stables,
besides adding good material to
soil. Good straw, however, in many
parts of the country sells well, >rmg
ing prices that the farmers can ne
afford to let go ty. It is
economy then to sell all of the g
straw, and use only the litter au
broken sheaves for bedding.
The Meulioane* . . ,
A poultry writer says: Select
southerly position for the hen‘1 ,. '
that the hens may enjoy the su^hmc
in cold weather. Have a dry
tion. Make the house so that■ «
be well ventilated in warm
and vet warm in the coldest _
It should he well lighted, and
ranged that the windows ma., be .a
out to admit the air in ^
Remove the old nests as often as ^
month. Bury or burn them. an(i
new nests of clean hay °r st^no'wder.
sprinkle them with 6"1P’'^.ashed:
and keep the house well white
make the whitewash very suit, a
your hens will not be troubled witu
lice.