Nebraska Newspapers

    •• -"r—Mw—twi
THE PORTENT.
A Story of the Inner Vision of the
Highlander*, Commonly Called
the Second Sight,
By GEORGE MACDONALD,
CIIAt’TKU XII.—(Continued.)
‘Will Klin Ilaton V" I naked.
‘‘She dares not," answered Margaret,
with a smile; "nln< Ii:ih n terrible Idea
of my powers.”
.Tnnet obeyed without n word of re
ply, and we were left onee more alone,
lighted only by Hie doll clow of tie
tire. The night had gathered cloudy
and dark without, reminding me of
that night when she told me the tdory
of the two brother*, lint thla time no
storm disturbed the silence of the
night. As soon as Janet was gone.
Murgnrel said;
"Will yon take the pillow from under
my head. Imuran, my dear';"
I did so. and she lay lit an almost
horizontal ixwition. With the living
hand she lifted the powerless arm and
drew II across her chest, outside the
lsstrlnthcN. Then she laid the other
arm over it, und, looking up at me,
•aid:
"Kiss me, my bairn: 1 need strength
for what 1 am going to do for your
sake.”
I kissed her,
"There now!” she said, “l am ready
flood bye. Whatever happens do not
s|>eak to me: and let no one come near
me but yourself. It will be wearisome
for you, but It Is for your sake, my
Duncan. And don't let the lire out.
Don't leave me."
I sat thus for a long lime. I had
again replenished the lire—that Is all I
know about tin1 lapse of the time
when, suddenly, a kind of physical re
pugnance and terror seh/.isl me, and 1
aat upright In my chair, with every
liber of my llesh protesting against
Homo—shall 1 mil ll presence? in the
nelghlKtrhood. Hut my real self re
pelled the Invading cold, and took
courage for any eontest that might be
l)t hand. I,lko Macbeth. I only inhab
ited trembling; I did not tremble. I lmd
withdrawn tny gaze from the lire and
fixed It upon the little window, about
two feet square, at which the dark
night looked lu. Why, or when 1 lmd
fJone so I knew not.
i nii \v I wo nory eyes ItHikl tin In ill
the window, Inigo nnd wide apart.
Next, 1 saw the outline of a horse's
head. In which the eyes were set; and
behind, the dimmer outline of a man's
form Rented on the horse. The appari
tion faded and reappeared. Just as if It
retreated, and rode again up close to
the window. Curiously enough, 1 did
not even fancy that I heard any sound..
Instinctively 1 felt for my sword, Imt
there was no sword there. And what
would It have availed me. Probably
I wn* more In need of a soothing
draught. Hut the moment I put my
hand to the Imagined sword-hilt, a
dim figure swept lad ween me and the
horseman, on my side of the window—
a tall, stately female form. She stood
facing the window, In an altitude that
seemed to dare the further approach
of a foe. How long she remit hied tints,
or he confronted her, 1 have no Idea;
for when self-consciousness returned,
1 found myself still gazing at the win
dow front which both apparitions had
vanished. Whether I had slept, or from
the relaxation of mental tension, had
only forgotten, l could not tell; but all
fear had vanished, and l proceeded at
once to make up the sunkeu lire.
Throughout the time I am certain I
never heard the clanking shoe, for that
I should have remembered.
The rest of the night passed without
any disturbance; and when the tlrst
rftya of the early morning came Into
the room they awoke me from a com
forting sleep In the arm elmir. I rose
and approached the bed softly.
Margaret lay as still as death. Hut j
having been accustomed to similar eon
dttions in my Alice, 1 believed 1 saw j
signs of returning animation, nnd with !
drew to my sent. Nor was l mistaken;
for, in a few minutes more, she mur
mured tny name. 1 hastened to her.
“Cal! Janet,” she said.
I opened the door and called her. She
came In a moment, looking at once
frightened and relieved.
"Get me some tea,” said Margaret.
After she had drunk the tea, she
looked at me anil said:
“Go borne, now, Duncan, nnd come
back about noon. Mind you go to bed.”
She closed her eyes once more. I
waited till 1 saw her fast In an alto
gether different sleep from the for
mer, If sleep that could in any
sense be called.
as i waiKcu limin', oerore i nad Roue
many hundred yards from the cottage,
l suddenly eamo upon my old Con
stancy. lie was limping about, pick
ing the best grass he could ttnd among
the roots of the heather and cranberry
bushes. He gave a start when I came
upon him, and then a jubilant neigh.
But he could not be so glad as I was.
When 1 had taken sufficient pains to
let him know this fact, 1 walked on.
and he followed me like a dog, with
bis head at my heels, but as he 11 min'd
much I turned to examine hint, and
found one cause of hts lameness to lie
that the loose shoe, which was a hind
•one, was broken at the too, and that
one-half, held only at the toe, had
turned round and was sticking right
out. striking his forefoot every time
he moved. I soon remedied this aud
by walked much better.
After removing the anxiety of my
hostess and partaking of their High
land breakfast, I wandered to mv
ancient hauut on the hill. Thence I
could look down on my old home,
where it lay unchanged, though not one
human form, which had made it home
to me moved about its precincts. I
went no nearer. I no more felt that
that was home than one feels that the
form In the eotliu is the departed dead
I sat down in my old study chamber
among the rocks, and thought that if
I could but find Alice, she would be
my home—of the past ns well as of the
future: for In her mind my necroman
tic words would recall the departed,
and we should love them together.
Toward noou I was again at the cot
tage. Margaret was sitting up in bed,
waiting for me. She looked weary, but
•cheerful: and a clean white mutch gave
her a certain company air. Janet left
the room directly, and Margaret mo
tioned me to a chair by her side. I sat
Li
down. She took my hand and wild:
"Duncan, my boy. I fear I onn give
you lull little h'-lp, hut I will till you
all I know. If I wore to try to put
Into words tin* things I lmd to en
counter before I could conic near her.
you would not understand what I
meant. .Nor do I understand the things
in.#.c lf. They sis'in quite plain to ine
at tln> time, hut very cloudy when
I come hack, lint I did succeed In Ret
ting one glimpse of Iter. Sin* was fust
asleep. Sin* seemed to have suffered
ninch, for her face was very thin, and
its patient as It was pale.”
"Hut where was she'/"
"I must leave you to llnd out that, if
you can. from my description. Hut.
alas! It Is only the places Immediately
about the persons that I can sis*. Where
they are, or how far 1 have gone to gel
there, I cannot tell.”
She then Rave me a rather minute
description of the chamber in which
the lady was lying. Though most u
the parllciilars are utikiiovvu to me, the
conviction, or hope, at least, gradually
dawned U|miii me, that I knew the
room. Once or twice I had peeped In
to tlu> sanctuary of I.ady Alice's chain
her, when I knew she was not then-;
and some points In the description Mur
caret cave, set my heart In a tremor
with the bare suggestion that site
might now be at Hilton Hull.
"Tell me, .Margaret,” I said, alums,'
panting for utterance, "was there a
mirror over the fireplace, with a broad,
gilt frame, carved Into lingo represen
tntions of crabs and lobsters, ami all
crawling sea-creatures with shells on
them—very ugly, and very strange'/"
She would have Interrupted me be
fore, but 1 would not be stopped.
“I must tell you, my dear Duncan,"
she answered, "that. In none of these
trances, or whatever you please to call
them, did 1 ever see a mirror. It has
struck me before as a curious thing,
that a mirror Is then an absolute blank
to me—1 see nothing on which I could
put n name. It docs not even seem a
vacant space to me. A mirror mud
have nothing in common with the stale
I am then In, for I feel a kind of re
pulsion from It; and, Indeed, It would
be rather an awful Ihltig to look at, for
of course 1 should see no reflection of
myself In It, ltut,” she continued, “1
have a vague recollection of seeing
some broad, big, glided thing with llg
urcH on It. It might lie something else,
though, altogether.”
“I will go In hope,” I answered, ris
ing at once.
“Why should I sl:iy lunger?”
"Stay over to-night."
“What Is the use? J cannot.”
“I’’or my sake. Duncan,"
"Yes. dear Margaret, for your sake.
Yes, surely."
"Thank you.” she answered. “I will
not, keep you longer now. Hut If 1 send
Janet to you come at once. And, Dun
can, wear this for my sake."
She put Into in.v hand an ancient gold
cross, much worn. To my amazement
I recognized the counterpart of one
Lady Alice lmd always worn. 1 press
ed It to my heart.
“I am a Catholic: yon are a Protest
ant, Duncan; luit never mind; that’s
the same sign to both of us. You won’t
part with It? It has been In our family
for many long years.”
"Not while l live," I answered, and
went out, half wild with hope. Into the
keen monnnln air. llow deliciously it
breathed upou me! ****•’•
Margaret sat, propped with pillows. I
saw some change had passed upon her.
She held out her hand to me. 1 took
It. She smiled feebly, closed her eyes,
and went with the sun down the hill
of night. Hut down the hill of night
Is up the hill of morning in other lands,
and no doubt Margaret soon found that
she was more at home there than here.
I silt holding the dead hand, as if
therein lay some communion still with
the departed. Perhaps she who saw
more than others while yet alive, could
see when dead that 1 held her cold
hand in my wram grasp? Had 1 not
good cause to love her? She had ex
ha listed the lust remnants of her life
In that effort to find for me my lost
Alice. Whether she had succeeded 1
had yet to discover. Perhaps she know
now.
1 hastened the funeral a little, that
1 might follow my quest. I had her
grave dug amidst her own people and
mine; for they lay side by side. Tim
whole neighborhood for twenty miles
round followed Margaret to the grave.
Such was her character and reputation,
that the belief in her supernatural pow
ers had only heightened the notion of
her venerableness.
When 1 had seen the last sod placed
on her grave, 1 turned and went, with
a desolate but hopeful heart. I had
a kind of folding that her death had
sealed the truth of her last vision, i
mounted old Constancy at the church
yard gate, and set out for Uiltou Hall.
CHAPTER XIII.
1III.TON.
It was a dark, drizzling night when 1
arrived at the little village of Hilton,
within a mile of the llall. I knew :i
respectable si^ond-rate inn ou the side
uext the Hall, to which the gardener
and other servauts had been In the hab
it of repairing of an evening: and 1 i
thought I might there stumble upon !
some Information, especially as i
the old fashioned place had a J
large kitchen In which all sorts or
guests met. When I reflected on the
utter change which time, weather, and
a groat scar must have made upon me.
I feared uo recognition. Hut what
was my surprise when, by one of those
coincidences which have often happen
ed to me, I found in the hostler one
of my own troop at Waterloo! His
countenance and salute convinced me
that he recognized me, I said to him:
“I know you perfectly. Wood: but
you must not know me. I will go with
you to the stable.”
lie led the way Instantly.
“Wood." I said, when we had reach
<h1 the shelter of the stable, "I dou't
want to bo known here, for reasons
which I will explain to you auotlier
time.”
"Very well, sir. You can depend on
me, sir.”
"I know I may. and I shall. Do you
know anybody about the hall?”
“Yes, sir. *The gardener comes here
sometimes, sir. I believe he's in the
house now. Shall 1 ask him to step
this way, sir?”
"No. All I want is. to learn who is
at the hall now. Will you get him to
talk? I shall he by. having something
to drink."
1 went In, and, with my condition for j
an excuse, ordered something hot by j
the kitchen lire. Several country poo
pie wets* sitting abrut If. They made
room for hip, and I took my place by i
n tiiblo on oiip side. I mniii discovered
flip gardener, ult hough tlmp bad done
whnt In* could to disguise him. Wood
itimc In presently, and, loitering about,
began to talk to him.
"What's flip l.*u-,t news ut the Hall,
William?" lio mild.
"News?” answered tlm old man.
so mow bat <|iipriiloiiHly. “There's novt*r
nothing but nows up thoro. and vory
new-fangled npw'H, too. What do you
think now, John? They do talk of
turning all them green-Inmses Into
hothouses; for, to bo Niiro. there's noth
ing the now missus cares about but
juat the tlnest gru|s*s In the country;
and the flowers, purty creatures, may
go to the devil for her. There's a lady
for ye!"
"Hut you’ll be glad to have her at
home, and m*e what she’s like, won't
you? It’s rather dull up there now,
Isn't It?"
"I don't know wliat you call dull,”
replhsl the old mail, as If half offended
at the suggestion. "I don't believe a
soul missed his lordship when he died;
and there's always Mrs. ltlakesley null
me, as Is tin* lust, friends in tin* world,
besides three maids and the* stableman,
who helps me In the garden, now there
is no horses. And then there's Jacob,
and—"
"Hut you don’t mean,” said Wood,
Interrupting him, “that there’s none o’
tin* family at home now?"
"No. Who should there be? Least
ways, only the jmmii* lady. And she
hardly (saints now—bless her sweet
face."
no .von ever see n»*r r ’ Interposed
one of the by-sitters.
“Sometimes.”
“Is site <|nlte crazy?”
“Alto'getlier; but Unit quiet end gen
tle. you would think she was an angel
Instead of a mad woman. Hut not a
notion has sin1 in her head, no more
than thi' babe unborn."
It was a dreadful shock to me. Was
this to be the end of all? Were It not'
better she had died? For me, tile was
worthless now. And there wore no
wiirs. with the chance of losing it
honestly.
I rose, and went to my own room.
As I sat In dull misery by the lire, it
struck me that it might not have been
l.ady Alice after all that the old man
spoke about. That moment a tap
came to my door, and Wood entered.
After a few words, I asked him who
was the lady the gardener laid said
was crazy.
"l-ady Alice," lie answered, and add
ed: “A love story, that came to a bad ,
olid ui) the Hall, years ago. A tutor
was in it, 1 hey say. Hut I don’t know I
the rights of it."
CHAPTER XIV.
it was a lovely morning In autumn.
I walked to the Hall. I entered at the
same gate by which I had entered
lirst, so many years ago. Hut It was
not Mrs. Hhikesley that opened It. I
Inquired after her, and the woman
told me that she lived at thc> Hall now,
to take care of l.ady Alice. .So for,
tills was hopeful news.
I was shown to a room. None of
the sensations 1 had lmd on first cross
ing the threshold were revived. 1 re
membered them all; I felt none of
them. Mrs. lllnkesley came. She did
not recognize me. 1 told her who I
was. She stared at me for a moment,
seemed to see the same face she had
known still glimmering through all
the changes that had crowded tiiKm it.
hi'ld out. both her hands, and burst
Into tears.
"Mr. Campbell,” she said, “you are
changed! Hut not like her. She’s the
same one to lisik at; but oh. dear!”
Wo were both silent for some time.
At length she resumed—
"Come to my room. 1 have been mis
tress here for some time now."
I followed her to the room Mrs. Wil
son used to occupy. She put wine on
the table. I told her my story. My
labors, and my wounds, and my ill
ness, slightly touched as I trust" they
were in the course of the tale, yet
moved all her womanly sympathies.
"What can I do for you. Mr. Camp
bell?” she said.
"Isxt me siv her,” I replied.
She hesitated for a moment.
“I dare not, sir. I don’t know wliat
it might do to her. It might send her
raving: and she is so quiet.”
(TO UE CONTINUED.)
They Don’t Talk Polities.
Nowhere in Russia do politics enter
into the life of the people. Politics in
Russia is the czar, and watever he
docs is right. You cannot induce a
Russian, at least an archangel, to touch
ou politics even in friendly conversa
tion. When tint czar's “name-day”
comes round, as it did tlie other day.
title houses are decorated for tile event.
Hut even this is controlled by the au
thorities. "Two (lags for this lions*',
three for yours, hang them out of the
window," and it is done.
They worship the late czar—they
have made him a saint, as they have
made a mossiah of Alexander 1 i I. Ask
tiliotn when the St. Petersburg railway
Is to be made, when the jioor are to be
better ixiid, when the children are to
play in the sunshine instead of slaving
in gangs in the ships—"Whi'n the czar
comes," is always what they say. The
czar will m'ver come. I think they
might take that as established if they
would, though the other czars have
eome. passing up that way on their pil
grimage to the Holy Isles.—Longman’s
Magazine.
Supposed Aiye of Msnirt Falls.
Niagara Falls are about 31.000 years
old, according to the conclusions of
Prof. Spencer and other geologists.
Surveys made at different times dttr
iug the last tifty years are taken as
the basis of Prof. Spencer's calcula
tions, and load hliu to conclude that
for about 11,000 years a small stream,
falling nltottt 200 feet, made a fali
nearly like the present American fall,
but not so high. Then the height was
slowly increased and the stream en
larged, and the three cascades that for
merly followed each other in the river
became merged into one great cataract
much greater than the present one.
The second process took altotit l'.OtKl
years, and for the last 3,000 years or so
the falls have been reaching their
present condition.—Spriugtield Repub
lican.
A New Jersey Justice of the peace!
has just administered a dose of "Jor- I
soy justice” to two judges of the su
preme court of the state who were
caught illegally hunting ducks.
-■ . ... .. —■ ... \ ’V ' ' ' ' •
DAIRY AND POULTRY.
INYERESTING CHAPTERS FOR
OUR RURAL READERS.
flow Sncccufol Farmers Operate This
Department of the Homestead—Hints
as to the Care of Lire Stock and
Poultry.
Garget In Cows.
Dr. John S. Meyer, a Missouri veter
inarian of prominence, spoke as fol
lows at a Missouri institute:
“Mammitis,” or inflammation of the
milk gland, is commonly called garget.
It is an affection to which cows and
heifers are prone at any time of the
year. Mammitis is of rare occurrence
in the mare or fillies.
Causes.—Irregularities of diet; the
direct application of cold or heat; ex
posure to cold and damp; retention of
milk; Insufficient and careless milk
ing; over stocking; over driving with
distended udder; contusions and exter
nal injuries, as blows, bruises or
wounds, or a too plethoric condition
of the system.
symptoms. — Enlargement 01 the
udder, with heat; redness; excessively
tender, and a hard, consolidated feel
of the part more particularly affected,
attended not unfrequently, when the
hind quarters are affected, with a
straddling gait; the sub-cutaneous
veins are distended and corded. On
drawing the teat, instead of normal
milk issuing, a thin yellowish fluid is
passed, which, as the disease proceeds,
becomes denser and foetid, and mingled
with it,curdled lumps, due to an acidu
lated change in its composition. The
constitutional disturbance is often
considerable, indicated by a quick
pulse, increased breathing, rising of
temperature, suspended rumination
and appetite, a decrease in the quan
tity of milk from the unaffected quar
ters, and irregular evacuations of
the bowels. As the disease pro
ceeds, all these symptoms become aug
mented; the udder increases in size,
the hardness gives away to a soft, pit
ting, doughy feel, resulting from the
formation of pus, which, if allowed to
find an outlet itself, leaves behind a
ragged, sloughing wound. To this
succeeds mortification, induration or
atrophy, the finale of which is a par
tial if not total loss of the quarter; or
mortification may extend to the whole
gland and cause the death of the ani
mal. Acute mammitis seldom attacks
the whole gland, but is confined to one
or more quarters, and is expressed by
swelling, heat, pain and redness of
the part inflamed, with an alteration
in the physical properties of the milk,
which is curdled, whey like and mixed
with blood.
The exudation formed in the sub
stance of the glands very frequently
destroys its secreting properties, block
ing up the acini, lactiferous ducts and
sinuses, and leading to the conversion
of glandular structure into a mass of
fibrous tissue. This alteration of
structure is followed by a wasting of
the previously swollen part, which be
comes a hard, almost cartilaginous
mass, smaller than the healthy portion
of the gland, and constitutes an un
soundness.
A cow with only three quarters of
the udder secreting milk is of less value
than when the whole is intact. In
some instances the secreting proper
ties may return after the next calving,
but in others this desirable result is
not obtained. It is nevertheless sur
prising, the amount of pain and suffer
ing cattle go through, without a speedy
and fatal termination, in comparison
with other animals, particularly the
horse.
Treatment.—Removal of the exist
ing cause, if taken in hand early; hot
fomentations, such as clothes or rugs
wrung out of hot water, or bathing
the udder well for ten or fifteen min
utes with warm camphorated water
every one or two hours; if there is ex
treme pain, there should be added
tincture of opium or thoroughly cooked
poppy seeds, and the gland often and
gently milked. Should absesses form
they should be lanced and the sack
syringed out two times a day with ear
bolized warm water; one part of car
bolic acid to forty of water. Should
there be gangrene the gangrenous por
tion usually is removed by excision. If
the fever is high give potassium nitrate
in the drinking water three or four
times a day, in tablespoonful doses, or
tincture of aconite root in 15-drop
doses for cows every four hours for
two days. The diet should be light
and easily digestible, as gruel, bran
mashes, linseed meal, pulped roots
and such like.
Winter Quarters for Poultry.
The quarters must be warm, but more
especially dry. Dampness is more
damaging than cold, and roup may
easily be caused by a slight crack or
crevice in the wall, and a leaky roof
will cause disease, whether the birds
get wet or not. It is not necessary for
the fowls to become wet and to feel
the'effects of dampness. A damp floor
or wall causes the air in the house to
be chilly and disagreeable, and the
birds draw up and shiver in the cor-'
ners. The temperature need not be
high, about 50 degrees above zero is
warm enough. Even 40 degrees is not
too cold. What is desired is not to
have the house cold enough to freeze
the combs.—Ex.
The Jarrau Tree.—There is a tree
in western Australia called the jarrah
tree, the wood of which is said to be
almost everlasting. The natives make
nearly everything of this timber
pianos, work boxes, wharves, build
ings and ships. It has never been
known to decay and is poisonous to
all insects. It does not bum freely,
hut only chars, which makes it special
ly valuable for building purpose*.
Oieoi u Viewed I.oclrully.
At the Missouri dairy meeting J. R.
Ripley said: That pure butter and
cheese may be produced at a profit, it
will be necessary to enact such laws as
will force the retail, as well as the
wholesale dealers in imitation com
pounds, to sell their stuff on its merits.
So long as skimmed milk and filled
cheese may be branded and sold as
“full milk cheese;-’ so long as oleomar
garine, butterine and other fraudulent
imitations may be sold as the best
“creamery butter;” so long as the dis
honest manufacturer is permitted to
make and color his nauseous compound
in imitation of a genuine gilt edged
article, and the unscrupulous dealer
defraud his unsuspecting patrons, that
long will the dairy interest languish
and the products of our pastures and
fields be manufactured into dairy pro
ducts with little prospect of profit and
often at an actual loss. If the manu
factured imitation of butter is as pure,
as clean, as wholesome as genuine
creamery product; if there are
those who prefer it, believe it
a typical food, containing all the
elements necessary to sustain life
and maintain a vigorous growth of
the human body; if it is a nerve and
muscie ouiimng ana neann restoring
food, then in the name of reason and
justice, should it not be so branded and
colored that they may know when
they are getting it, that they may not
be deceived and thereby forced to use
the natural product of the cow against
their wish and will? If, upon the
other hand, the manufactured imita
tion is a fraud, a nauseous compound,
possibly manufactured in some in
stances from the fat of diseased ani
mals, possibly containing the germs of
disease, and chemicals injurious to the
stomach, then as a sanitary measure,
and in the interest of an industry so
immense, so honorable and so valuable
to the community where conducted,
that is being sapped of its vitality and
robbed of its legitimate proiits, and in
justice to the people who abhor and
detest it, who value it only as they
would axle grease or machine oil, I
ask why it should not be so branded or
colored that they may detect or avoid
it?
Feedlug for Egg Trodact Ion.
In the report of the Canadian expe
riment farm, the following, relative to
poultry occurs: Food is a very im
portant factor, because by finding
what the egg is composed of, and feed
ing such constituents we are more
likely to get the egg. Turning then
to Mr. Warrington—an English chemist
of note—he tells us in an article in the
Agricultural Gazette of London, Eng
land, that the white of an egg is rich
in the alkalies, potash and soda, a part
of the latter being present as common
salt; that the yolk is extraordinarily
rich in phosphoric acid, and contains
much more lime than the white. The
fundamental principles to be borne in
mind, 'continues Mr. Warrington, in
arranging the diet of a hen, are that
the largest ingredients in eggs are
lime, nitrogen and phosphoric acid.
We have thus found from one chemist
of what the egg is composed, and we
learn from another that green bones,
which have been heretofore thrown
away or given away by the butchers,
when "cut up,” not ground up, are the
best and cheapest egg making material
extant. Green bones are rich in albu
men, phosphate of lime, and phos
phoric acid which go to make egg and
shell. The result has been a revolu
tion in the economy of egg production
in winter. An immediate result has
been the invention and manufacture
of mills to "cut up” the bones. And
so we have what has heretofore been
j actual waste converted into eggs com
manding a high price. Surely this is
a great step in the right direction.
SCRAPS.
A good plan whereby a farmer may
utilize more waste, is to have a pot set
aside, into which all the kitchen and
table waste in the shape of meat scraps,
pieces of bread, uneaten vegetables,
etc., may be thrown. Heat this up in
the morning with boiling water and
mix in bran, shorts, provender or
whatever is cheapest and most abund
ant on the farm, until the whole is a
crumbly mess. A small quantity of
black or red pepper should be dusted
in before mixing. Let the mixture
stand for a few minutes until partially
cooked, and feed in a narrow, clean
trough to the layers in the morning.
A light feed of oats at noon, and a lib
eral ration of wheat, buckwheat or
other grain for the evening meal should
bring plenty of eggs. Each layer
should be sent to roost with a full crop
to carry her over the long night fast.
It is imperative that green food in the
shape of unmarketable vegetables,
clover liay or lawn clippings—the two
latter dried in summer and put away
to be steamed for winter use, should
be supplied. If green bones are fed
they may be given in lieu of any of the
regular rations, reducing the quantity
of grain in proportion to the quantity
of bone used.
PROPER QUANTITY TO FEXIE
The practice of cramming the hens
with wheat at every ration is the very
way not to get eggs. Too much wheat,
buckwheat or barley will go into fat
rather than eggs, and fat is a disease
in poultry. The morning mash should
be fed in a long narrow trough about
one and three quarter inches in width,
nailed to the side of the house so that
the hens can not jump into and soil
the food. Feed only enough soft food
to satisfy, never so much as to gorge.
When a hen has had so much food that
she will go into a corner and mope, she
has had too much, and if the ovcrfeed
| ing is continued she will become too
fat to lay. If cut green bones are fed
it should be in proportion of one pound
to every sixteen hens. If fed morning
I and night, a small feed of oats at noon
and night is all that will be necessary
Experience will teach the “happy me
I dium” in feeding.
Purify Your Bl
Strengthen and invigorate vour
ten,
and muscles, tone your stomach
digestive organs, and build up jour
system by the use of Hood’s Sarj,
If you would avoid the grip, pm.u^
HOOd S Sarsa
1. parity
diphtheria and
typhoid fever. These
diseases seek for
Curd
their most ready victims, persmi^^^1
- -, , -UUud Who an
weak, tired, debilitated and all run d0»,
owing to impure and impoverished bC
Hood’s Sarsaparilla purifies and vitaZ!,
the blood and thus wards off disease ,
Hood’S Pills euronausea.lTlck he^^
Oii« of my children had I
a very had discharge I
from the nose. Physi-1
dans prescribed with-1
out benefit. After using I
Ely's Cream Balm a I
short time the disease!
was cured.—A.O. Cary,
Coming, N. Y.
CATARRH
ELY'8 CREAM BALM open* and cleans*
Nanai Passages, Allays pain and Inflammation hIT
the Sores, protects the Membrane from Cold* b
stores the Senses of Taste and Smell. Theiujmi
quickly abaorbcd and gives relief at once.
A particle is applied into each nostril and f«
able. Price 50 cents at Druggists or by mall.
BROTHERS, 56 WErrfln St., New York
. L. DOUCLAS
$3 SHQEmSS
3. CORDOVAV
FRENCH &. EN AM CUED CALF.’
^•mniiECMFUOM^
* 3.59 POLICE, 3 solb.
$2?o 42. WORKi^
-EXTRA FINE- V
^2>l7®BaYS'SC:!0ClSlia:
•ladies.
«p5052.?| .75
J* lEStfi0*^
„SENDrOR CATALOG'"- ‘
W-L-OOUCU.1,
Over One Million People wear the
W. L. Doug’as $3 & $4 Shoes
AH our shoes are equahy satisfact07
They give the best value for the monev.
They equal custom shoes in style and fit.
Their wearing qualities are unsurpassed.
The prices are uniform,—stamped on sole,
From $1 to $3 saved over other makes.
If your dealer cannot supply you we can.
," COLCHESTER"
SPADIK
BOOT,
BEST IN MARKET.
. BEST IN FIT.
. BEST IN WEARISG
j QUALITY.
| The outerortapsolee:
tends the whole leugti
down to the heel, pro
tectinpr the boot In dir
pring and in ether hid
work.
ASK TOUR DEALEE
FOR THEM
and don’t be put of
' with inferior jjouds.
WALTER BAKER & Cl
j.ue largest jJianuiaui-uiLJo-.*
PURE, HIGH GRADE
.COCOAS ABO CHOCOLATE
7 thia Continent, have recant
HIGHEST AWARDS
from the great
Unlike the Dutch Proves*, no At
ini nr nllior PhpOliralg Of
5T
■ ^V, used in »nv of thfir
Their delicious BREAKFAST COCOA h
pure and ioluble, and coats less than one cent a cap
80LD BY GROCERS EVERYWHERE
WALTER BAKER & CO. DORCHESTER, HA3t
Beeman’s repslnli
THE PEnrELiiun
CHEWING GUM.
A Delicious Rert
For all V nnsof
INDIGESTION.
CAUTION -
namo ISeeman 18 0
raprer- „»ainii'U«
i ahtabet chains
Eli
t'O u «,eal rs.s. nd3C-“
BEEMAX EHUIICA*''!d fc
« Ran St . CiryelM*
Originators of Papain ChewingC-urn^_
^ UNCLE SAM’S
CONPITIONP'MyOEft
Is the best medii ine ior Horses, i atitf.
and Sheep. It pi
ease and cures C<
Worms. Distem;
lurities the
j Ucoti, prevoiB^
Ids.Colic. HidfW-S
’oujfhs, Colds.Colic. . w
-nper, etc. Nothing equa*s ‘ £
Hog Cholera. Honest and reliable, in b°D,
xAx/fs V uu.cia, iiuuvSl ttiiu roiiauiv. **• - . /0*
and 50 cent packages^ used and "arranteJor^
over twenty years. Every one owning » “pja
. it atrial. Made by E*MbJW
or cattle should give i_
Proprietary Co., Chicago, 111.
Uncle Sam’s Nerve and Bone
for Sprains, Bruises. Rheumatism. Stiff
etc. Goes right to the snot of Paia
else so good for Man and Animal Tryj^^.
SELLS READILY!
Agents Wanted. .
Writs for Terms. Send I
•tnmps for Handsome Catalogue i
y A. G. Spalding & Bros
v 147-149 Wabash Avo., Chicago, &
ACRE APPLES, $1,493 SS SjKgiS
Louhiana, Mo., for free sample copy te ‘ hl..hei W
_sample c
A practical Fruit and Farm paper.
publnb^.
Stark Bros., A tic a year; cl rcu1at 1 on. J*
Th® “Cream of the Cream”
!“ $?bk»2
Grower or Farmer, who hasn’t the time or ^
to buy and read a great mass of papers.
from them all. what he want*
what would take him days to search out -•
Patents, Trade-Mark^
Advice ns to
Examination and
Invention. Send for “ Inventors’ Gui«
a Patent." PAT2ICT 0TAEB2IL, WAS^*
1^0RO, Pension A'Paient A it {;•aft
WaaEu>Etan,D.C.»tl,ey wiilrwri'e* 1 .
THOSE WHO HAVE I
affalOfettheGovemment I_
will write to NATHAN t,i*FjS
in. Patent Att
nmin A p^sitles Cure and Prere”'® ‘
Kllllr TREK for lUeeniaiopa' P^Rjiil*,
IIUUI ASHTQ V CO., AW 8
ICCIITe WANTED la .eery <j£
PQCnle our A u.uinum Notion. (-r'L.,ve<l'.-,
-- - • - ' sump for rJL
3. Nttrk ■
ium aouon* .. ..iur
•BO to B30 I‘.r w.k S. ad stamp for ,tA
ZlCIUKUM S0T103 CO.. IN. “