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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 8, 1907)
|The Plunderers! > ♦ + BY C. J. CUTLIFFE HYNE. J .44^4 4.4.44. 4 4.4.4. 4.4 4. 4.4.4 11^4111114 44 444 4 4 4 4444444444444444.44. He pattered across the deck, right hand Inside his shirt bosom, pistol gripped in that, and peered in through the open door. The place was tenanted by no living thing larger than Hies and cockroaches. He drew back hulf scared hr the eeriness of it, and then beckon ing his mates headed them down the companion ladder, treading like a stage conspirator. At the foot, two doors opened; one In the alleyway, which was empty, the other Into the main cabin, on the floor of which Kettle had been deposited by the donkeyman. Hut in the culminating spasm of his cramp the little captain had rolled away out of right under the table, and so to all ap pearance this place was deserted also. The men peered about them and ran eft. poking their noses in pantry and gallery and engine room. Coming back through the alleyway, they searched the, two mate’s rooms and found them eropty, and going out on the Iron fore deck found the forecastle deserted also. Then they gathered round that gaping vent where the forehatch had been In curious wonder, examining the crum pled plates which were yellow with new drust and pointing out to one another the twisted stanchions and splintered deb ris below. And at this they were en caged when the sun took Its final dive beneath the waters of the Mexican gulf to westward, and the tropical darkness •napped dow n upon them like the ahut ting of a box. *‘ifank,” said the one eyed man, “this gets me. What in hades have they been doing to this blame steamboat, and for why have they gug-gug-gone off and hprt" “KucJId's out of my line," said Hank orurulary. “Oh, you blank putty head!” retorted bis friend, '•th-ih-ink." "You tire me. If they aren’t here, they aren’t. P’raps they’ve gone off and toted the boodle to a cache. P'raps It’s left here aboard, and If It Is I guess W* shall find it when we want It- What rn on for now's grub. I haln't had a Christian meal for three months, thanks to this new sheriff bustling after us, and I’m about sick of mullet and sweet potatoes. I3ut, please our buck, we’ll raid theJr storerooms here and fix up a regular hotel supper for tonight. That’s me. Now come along, fellers." The negroes chuckled and crowed, -capering like children, and went off with the tall man toward the galley, and Nutt, after an Ineffectual attempt to Apeak which threw him Into a paroxysm Af fury, presently followed them. The feast was sul generis. They found grease, baking powder and Hour and made doughnuts, they hotted three tins of Julienne soup, they baked a great mass of Halt pork on a bedding of White beans, they made a stew of pre Aerved potatoes, Australian mutton and pate de foie gras, and as a chef d’oeuvre Me of the negroes turned out some •crisp three cornered tartlets stuffed with strawberry Jam. Then Hank, with a lamp in one hand, a cylinder of plates in the other and a whole armory •f knives and forks bristling from his pockets, pattered off to the main cabin to lay the table. At the doorway he stopped, gaping. And because the Instinct of the much (hunted made his right hand slip round to a certain back pocket the plates went to the ground with a crush. In the An'ivel chair at the head of the table ms huddled a man—a small man with - a -nigur bitten tight between his > teeth, a man so grimy with coal dust • that Hank couldn’t have sworn whether i the short peaked beard which rested on hla chest was black or red or Prussian ..blue. ^ "Qih. don’t you trouble to be polite,” •aid the man In the chair. "I’m mighty gkad to see any who can talk or use a j pair ««f (hands.” Here he lifted his I sum and snuffed the air like a hound. •*3s that supper you're cooking?" *5 reckon.” ‘"Found anything to wash It down •with?" "There were a dozen bottles of beer, r but we -wanted those between whiles, .•And I guess they’re drunk.” “There should have been more, but I •■oppose my lousy steward has necked them. However, this Is a hlg night, abd this Is the first time I've seen you and you mates, and so I guess cham pagne’ll be good enough for us. There’s ; a case lt\ that end room ready a-pur : pose for this sort of celebration day. Perhapo (you'll fetch It out. I’m weak -Atli!” Huilk ifbeyed, wondering, and laid the “table and brought on the viands, In which be Was assisted by Nutt and the Uilacka. i nen v spiiau ivt'Uit' spiiKe again. “'Oh. took here, friends. I'm not going to sit at table with nlggera. I take It this isn't a blessed missionary meeting." It aceVued as though there would be at row. One of the blacks stated his In tention of 'takln no sass from that po' "White trash." and another openly drew •a razor and made suggestive motions with it through the air. “Of course," said Kettle, “If you two ®rntlemen have chucked your color and care to feed with those ornaments you ion do It. Only I*m a white man and have my pride." “That's right,” said Nutt. “Picnick ing and the schooner's different. But this Is a regular hotel dinner, with nap kins and tablecloth, and I guess any thing onioned 'ud spoil the tone. Say. ta-s-sonnies, you mosey." "I done cooked most this yer grub." ■whined he of the razor, an Ize gwlne f •at my belly load.” "VVi 11, collar what you want to eat dll you Vm-s-s-s"— "Yes, but whnr’ll wc go?" "Nutt looked at Captain Kettle. The little man in the swivel chair gave kis African guests full leave to go to a jplrue considerably hotter than the eh iglne hold, suggesting the messroom as an afterthought and alternative. Whither they betook themselves, grumbling, and then the three whites commenced their meal. Kettle unwired a champagne bottle with a fork and poured out three long tumblers of dancing froth. '■Wine!" said Hank. "Oh, my Jemi ma “Gcg-geg-got 'ny Ice?” queried the ®ne eyed man. “Ice is off," replied the captain. “Things have been that hot this trip at save up and melted." "Yovi seem to gi t your manors on lee, Mr. Billy Nutt," said his friend. “Now I sre a regular hotel meal in front ol me. -lani I'm going to make a pig ol .narsiOT and be Jolly well thankful. 1 hirin't any use tor your high toned sorl • of eanoosering. See here, stuff youi ikilly mouth and quit grumbling, righl .tg)W. Dy’e hear?" IHis guests ate, and Kettle made smal talk for them, at the same time plytr; a good knife and fork himstlf. Tin food seemed to straighten his bacl and knock the limpness out of him., bu Mr. Nutt and his friend were lappUif their champagne too industriously ti ,«ee any significance in the change. The meal crept steadily through lb •courses, and the empty bottles grew oi the cabin door. No one got drunk Captain Kettle's own libations wen spar ing, and the od. rs had each a hig! ■tHMsflUclent of absoi •ron. Still all war exhilarated and ripe for mischief or merriment, as might befall. 'Say, cap,” said the long man as he dallied with Ills last strawberry tartlet, “isn't It so that you've got this fine steamboat of yours ballasted with sovereigns T* “It's so,” said Kettle, "or something very like that.” “Your own?" "Oh, Lord, no. Just freight consign ed to New Orleans and brought here by that blowup 1 was telling you about. I suppose that you gentlemen'll have no objection to bearing a hand aboard o'me now you are here? I'm a bit short man ned, and It'd be a pity to let freight like that rust for want of fingering." Hank grinned at his vis-a-vis and then turned to the little skipper In the swivel chair. "No," he said, "I don't see there’s anything wrong with that, but I’m afraid If we chipped In we couldn't sign on so far as Noo Orleans.” “New Orleans be sugared!’’ cried Captain Kettle. “Haven't I spoke plain j enough already? Don’t you under stand all this racket's a blessed swindle? , The steamer's going to have the name , plate on her engine altered, and the label on her stern changed, and a dif ferent pattern painted on her smoke stacks, und a coat of gray clapped on her outside. And then—then, when she'a so bedeviled her own builder j wouldn’t know her, we’ll run her round , to some South Amerlcun port where the least number of questions will be asked and sell her for what she’ll fetch, j Hut only the steamer, mark you. X ‘ reckon she’s carried the freight far enough. That’ll be struck out of her , here.” “You bet,” said Nutt, rubbing his , bauds. “We’ll corral the dollars for you right here till you come back. You shall have our niggers to s—stoke for you If you can get ’em and can manage ’em. Hut they’re fair toughs. Perhaps you'd w-w-eaken when you came to know ’em a hit." “I’d handle," retorted I.ettle, "a crew ' of old Nick’s firemen raw out of the . pit If I was put to it. Don’t you make any error. I’ve kept my end up with 1 the worst cro- a a man ever put to sea ! with. By James," he went on, with a 1 blow at the table, ’’by James I'd handle you, Mr. Nutt If you were signed on board o’ me till you couldn't call your . soul your own.” “You'd w-w-whlch?” snarled Nutt, I rising In his chair. £ “Sit, you swT e " said his partner, c “and be quiet. You tire me. What are 1 you riling the gentleman for Just when we were getting so nice and friendly with him?” a “You lemma alone!” I "I’ll smash your ugly little face In If < you don’t keep It shut.” <• The one eyed man tried to retort, but his Infirmity gagged him, and a spasm of wild fury bit Into all his muscles. His friend waved a d rtsive finger. e ’Ther~’y ui Image for you, cap. Look t at the creature, froze like a Chinese pet dog. Look at him and ’nn't laugh. And, say, Jurt reach me another bottle n of that wine; It will be so good—thanks, 1 slree. I wouldn't care tf 1 died drinking I this. Here’s our blessed health. Good t old cap! You stick to me. and I'll stick c! to you, and If Mr. Billy Nutt can’t swallow hts tantrums and join us two h gentlemen like another gentleman, by 1 jemima, wo’ll give him what he’s got <] for his share and set adrift in an j ftr,.tty bottle. You hear me, Billy a Nutt?” a “You spup-lubterlng fool! You boosey t drunken putty head!" v “I’m not drunk," retorted Hank, “but a I’m merry. Have a sup yourself, and t then perhaps you'll be better company,” with which advise a libeml heel tap e of champagne splashed lu«(SJiiU's face. v The- man sorang to his feet, glowing v like a fiend. What followed was com- u pletcd before a watch could tick twice. v For once the gift of speech did not de sert him. Tile fatal words bounced t glibly off his tongue, and Hank’s venge ful hands shot out. In an Instant the j pair were grappling together, and a „ scooping thumb did its horrid work. ^ Then tearing himself away, eyeless, the lesser man, ran screaming blindly Into the sideboard at the other side of the i cabin. His friend pitched stiffly for ward and fell face downward among , the dishes lying there without so much , as n quiver. He was stone dead. With " the black handled knife that carved J their baking of pork Nutt had stabbed him from the shoulder down through 1 his heart- | 'That saves my cartridges,” said 1 Captain Kettle and took his cocked ‘ revolver from where It lodged between , hts kuee and the under side of the ta- 1 bki. ‘ Me passed swiftly out through the pantry door and was Just In time for what he expected. The negroes. ' a tanned by Nutt's sh -leks. were rush- : ing from the messroom to see what had gone wrong. Ho charged and drove them furiously back. They turned and rau before him, tumbling over one an la their scared haste, and then ' he took up his place In the doorway, threatening them with steady weapon aud crisp, decisive tongue. “Quick,” iso cried, "quick, you scum, unload yourselves. Pitch overboard I your knives aud razors and whatever you've got, or, by James, if a man of you stops to think. I'll blow his brains through the porthole." The negroes obeyed him tn sullen, frightened silence and stood with el bows up facing him as he covered them. Kettle watched the three with steudy eye. but his ear was cocked down the passage drinking In every rustle which came from the place he had left. The shrieking of the eyeless man in , the cabin had given way to groans, and I then there came the sound of bumps and scratchlngs, as though he were blundering madly about to find some thing, arid then the pattering of naked feet us tic groped his way up the lead covered steps of the compantonway. So intently did they follow this one man's movements that it seemed to them as though all other sounds were hushed, even to the never ceasing hum of the insects. With awe the listeners held their flwwadh for what might come next. But Ihwy had not long to wait. There burst out a wild tirade of hate and blas phemy, which ended in a shrieking cry of despair and a heavy plunging splash, and once more the distant noises of the night closed down upon Them. “Nutt,” said Captain Kettle, “is dead, aiKl I'm almost sorry. I believe 1 could have liked that man. He'd grit in him. had Nutt, and he wouldn't take cheek from a living soul. Your other boss also ts dead—killed by Nutt. So you're nty niggers now and will be till I've done with you." i “Whor d'you mean?" one of tile cap tives asked, with a whine. “You’ll have to do what niggers were sent in the world for. and that's work. Your fool of a government says you ; aren't slaves now, and so I won't treat i you as such—that is, you'll be paid. But 1 shall get my money's worth out i of you first.” i “1 guess this is a free country. You . can't make us work unless we choose." i “I’ve had that said before to me.” i Kettle rejoined grimly, “by better men > than you white men—and they changed their mind? when I got' handling them. You'll see later. But lor now you've got to stay here, and if you get out, and 1 find you rambling, you'll be shot like crows. You quite understand ?” He shut the messroom door and locked it and once more went to the main cabin. The tall man lay exactly is he had fallen, and from underneath his neck five tricklets of red spread out icross the slopped tablecloth like the fingers of a monstrous hand. The lamp light fell also upon other smearlngs of red where Nutt had groped his way round the paneling. Kettle leaned up against the rail of the sideboard and wiped his face with a napkin. Perspira tion had loosened the coal dust, and the skin came out white with only here and there a smudge of the old grime. "Supposing," he said to himself, "v;e were robbed now, and there was a trial, who's to prove I didn’t put the pork knife in that man? O Lord, what a sat it's getting!" CHAPTER XVI. SUBJECTS FOR MATPjtMONT. Miss Kildare gave a shrug of her j ihoulders. "Yes,” she said, "I suppose t Is a different me. I've got my hair lone up and longer skirts and all th* est of It. In fact, like the young per lon In the book, I’ve growed. But l lon't see that you’ve altered much, ex ■ept that you've Just a tiny-lny bit rowsfooty about the eyes. You haven't ■ven grown a mustache, as I always vanted you to do.” “Didn’t know I was going to meet fou, or I might have spared iny razor.” "I wish you'd known then. But fancy four turning up here of all places! It s an extremely small world. There’s 10 doubt about that. Well, Pat. as ve’ve each said at least twenty times, tpiece how surprised we are to see one' mother, suppose you come out onto the >lazza and tell me things. We shall lave a crowd round us if we stay here n the hall much longer.” "My dear child, what things?” asked 'ambel, laughing. "I’ve been chatter ng history to you ever since I turned ip at the hotel.” The girl seated herself In a cool cane ocker and picked up a palm leaf fan. "Hundreds of things. To begin with, vhat are people wearing In town Just iow ?" “In London? Oh, frock coats rather ynger than ever and narrow stripe reusers and toppers with Just two enny worth of curl In them, not nore ” "But I mean the women.” "Fifteen yards to the skirt, and hey're beginning to drape them. The ashionable deformity at present Is ele hantiasis of the biceps—I mean glgot leeves. They start at the ears and go own to the elbows; some of them far her." .ah, sulu Miss Kildare thoughtfully. "I us<;d to have good arms. Not quite as nice as Mabel’s though. But latterly I haven't been In places where evening dress was used. By the way, do you dance still?’’ "Keen on it as ever.” "What’s the waltz like now?” "Capering on hot bricks. Heaps more exercise to the furlong. People kill themselves at is much sooner." "Reverse?" "Ill the north of England, where they | all dance well, they're like the Amer- 1 leans and go each way alternately. In, London and the south, where most of them Waltz vilely, reversing Is acel dama.” "I suppose," said Miss Kildare, with her eyes meditatively following a bronze green humming bird which was darting about a trumpet vine on, the piazza posts, ”1 suppose we shall have a hop here tonight. I shan’t reverse, and when my partners ask why I shall tell them it’s the latest thing. One al ways likes to be as English as pos sible. Tell me something else that it’» tony to do?" “Read nasty novels written by wom en you wouldn't sit in the same room with and then gush about them after ward. That’s a very fashionable amusement with the up to date young women.” "Ugh, Pat, don’t be a pig. Besides, that wouldn't suit my style a bit." "But why want to change, Elsie? Don’t you appreciate yourself as you are at present? I’m sure other people would.” "That’s blarney.” "No,” said Cambel judicially, “I think It’s ordinary fact.” "Is it really, though? I am glad. You know, I've thought lately my present stock in trade wouldn’t pass muster outside Florida. I can handle a boat In any weather, and ride anything that Is called a horse, and dance decently in American fashion, but I can't do any thing else, except perhaps talk, If that counts." Cambel laughed. "You are refresh ing,” he said. "But why this Inventory i of stock?" "Because, Pat, I'm wondering how I ' shall get on in England. I’m going there this fall. I’m two and twenty, you know, and I can do as I like, and living in the back blocks is beginning to pall.” I "Going there by yourself?" "No. I'm not quite so independent as that. The Van Liews, the people I'm staying with here, spend the winter in London, and they’re going to take mo with them.” "And afterward you come back again to the States?” (Continued Next Week.) THE RICH DRIFTING TO HOTELS . New York City's Permanent Hotel Population Not l.css Than 135,000. From the Chicago Record-Herald. i The rich are drifting to the , cities as well as the wage earners. They are going to the hotels and big j apartment houses tp live rather than | ', . . attng homes. It Is said that the J permament hotel population of New : York city is today not less than 135, 000 and everybody who is familiar with the city knows that as fast as the big hotels are opened they are filled with permament boarders and casual pat rons like the big apartment house in Washington; although it is difficult to I determine where the people all come from. There are 136 new, up-to-date, high priced hotels in New York city, where the rates for lodging alone in tiro hum blest rooms are at least $2.50 a day, and range from $4 to $6 a day with a bath and without meals. It is stated that 9,000 families have given up their homes and are now permanently estab lished in the hotels and apartment houses, chiefly to avoid the annoyances and the expense of housekeeping. The difficulty of getting servants, the enor mous increase in wages of all domes tics, the Increase in the cost of food, the j trouble of marketing and other cares 1 and aipxieties connected with house keeping are thus avoided, and for those who are able to pay the bills there is a greater degree of luxury and comfort, with absolute Independence from care, for the same money in a well appointed hotel than can bo had In an ordinary residence. Professor Swain, of the Boston School of Technology, has been made a doctor of laws by the University of New York in consideration of bis scientific re searches and eminent engineering work. For more than twenty years Dr. Swain has been a prominent member of the Massachusetts railroad commission. WHAT IS A GOOD COW? This question was put to me a few flays ago, as I was looking over a very promising herd of cows in Jasper county, Iowa. A good dairy cow is one that will pay her owner a net profit. That is about all there is to it. Look at the cow from a business standpoint. Let us stop all this foolishness about this breed or that breed, and get down to what the individual cow will do. There are certain outward signs which point to good dairy material, but no dairy has ever been established on a profitable basis by judging cows on their looks. In determining just how good a cow is we must know how much milk she gives in a year, how much butter fat that milk contains, and how much it has cost to keep her the year. We must know all about these three things. The amount of milk given during the year, and knowing the amount of butter fat it contains, will not show the cow’s value unless we know just what her feed has cost. Right here is where so many busy farmers fall down. It takes 1 time and pains to weigh and test milk, and to weigh and keep track of cost of ! feed. Many will do one part and then I guess at the other. That destroys the value of any of the work. DAIRYING RESTORES LAND. The enormous crops grown during j the last five years have used up soils it a very rapid rate. This thing can not keep up always, and already many heretofore profitable grain farms are showing the effects of this exhaustion >f fertility Grain farmers are natur ally turning to the dairy cow as the salvation of their lands, and she will Jo great tilings, providing she is given the right care. The gospel of the cow j .s a good thing to preach, even if many Jo undertake to handle her in the same ivay they have their wheat lands— ;ake everything you can, but give back | mly the least amount possible. That sort of a deal will not pay any better rvith cows than it does with wheat ands. Give the good milch cow a thance to convert the best grain and iorage crops grown on the farm, into ■nilk, and then do your purt in turn- j ng that milk into money, and putting j tack onto your fields all the manure ind the cow will actually build up your Jelds. FRESH FALL COWS. Somehow It is difficult to get some ! lairymen to look with favor upon the lall cow. I do not understand why it is so, unless it is a little more work to i lake care of both cow and calf during :he winter than it is during the spring Hid summer. How many of the cows which dropped calves during April or May are holding out? How many will Sold out during fly time and late pas :ures? Does it not look better to have :he cows dry during September and October and have them come fresh dur ing November. By this time the fly season is over and her grain feed will se turned into high priced products. She is at her best when it counts tor most, and she conies onto grass in the spring at a period in lactation when :ows usually fall off. The fresh grass will increase her flow and she will do well until clear up into midsummer, rhe Increased cost of handling the fall fresh cow is not so much as one would think. DAIRY NOTES. A thing which puzzles many is why jne dairyman make^ money out of the business while another one, perhaps alongside the first, just breaks even at • the end of the year. The two sell their I milk or butter fat daily at the same j sreamery and are paid the same rate, j The trouble is in the cost of production. . The difference in the cost of foods jjrown, and the value of their foods, may account for the difference. Hence rhe value of the food, and the capacity of the cows turns the tables one way or the other. On many farms milk is set in shallow pans, which are put away from twelve to fourteen hours lor the cream to rise. There is always more or less difficulty In keeping the milk sweet, for not many have ice, nor have they even cold wa ter conveniences. These pans should be carefully scalded after each skim ming, care being taken that the work is not hurried, so as to leave a scald flavor. Before the pans are used again they should be cooled,; and, if they can be taken right out of cold water, as they are wanted,* for the new milk, so much the better. The cows are in clover all right this year; and the most encouraging thing Is copious summer showers will insure a prolonged pasturing season. The re sults of good pastures are already showing up. in the increase of milk delivered at creameries over the cor responding month of last season, also in the better quality of milk. Don't allow the cows which freshened last spring to even think of a holiday for several months yet. They will be all the better for constant milking, and two months is enough of a holiday any way. A correspondent asks whether it is prudent to crowd a heifer the first year of milking. The essential thing is not crowding so much as it is keeping her at work and up to a good flow right through the season. In order to secure this it may be necessary to feed seme grain during the fall, but that is as far as the crowding ought to go. Many cows have been troubled this spring with caked udders. A practi cal dairyman, who has handled many of these cases, uses a salve made of four ounces of gum camphor and one pound of fresh lard. This should be applied to the udder three times a day. In ordinary cases it will reduce the inflammation in a few days. Not all cows are good cheese cows. If a cow gives milk containing more than 5 per cent, of fat her milk is too rich for economical cheaBe making. Hence a very good butter cow may not be a good cheese cow. August is usually a very hard month In the dairy business. After such an abundance of grass it is difficult to get into the way of feeding grain. But as we get into the fall the cows need strengthening foods, and as cold weath er comes on they require still heavier grain rations to sustain the milk flow, as well as to keep up animal heat. I TIMOTHY HAY COSTLY. While there is no question that good bright timothy hay is about the only kind in demand for feeding horses, yet many have about made up their minds, that it is not profitable to grow one to one and a half tons on $100-an-acre land. True If one could dispose of his timothy hay at prices ruling during the last six months, he could afford to sell it and buy other forage. Timothy uses up the soil faster than clovers, and does not usually give as large a yield. For these reasons clover is the more profitable crop to grow, and It is far richer in feeding value. Farmers have been feeding too much trashy stuff, and among this must be classed over-ripe timothy. Other forage crops should be grown. An acre planted to fodder corn, well put up and shredded, will furnish four time as much good feed as an acre of timothy; and an acre of corn put up as silage will fur nish even a greater amount of feed. Sorghum makes fine feed and will yield three or four times as much as tim othy. It looks like poor business to go light on growing timothy when we know that it is a money-losing propo sition. HAY FOR YOUNG STOCK. On most farms there is usually a field that will produce the finest quality of hay. Frequently this is an upland piece of clover, which has aot grown so rank as the bottom fields, and on account of the lighter crop it is handled better and cured out nicer. A very sensible stockman tells me he always saves the crop off this kind of a field for his young stock, and he uses extra care to cut it at Just the right stage, and cure it nice and green. This hay is not so woody as the heavier growth, and it is not near so apt to mould or become musty. Young animals need something during the winter to tempt them, and nothing will do it like nlee. sweet-smelling clover hay, when the leaves, and not big coarse stems, form the bulk of the crop. Just for the calves' sake, take some extra pains in laying in the winter supply of clover. FARM FACTS. Cement is coming into wider use now on farms than ever before. An Iowa leader asks whether it would make a good floor for grain bins, where rata and mice are numberless. Such floors would be all right, providing the drain age is good: or if the floors are raised from the ground far enough to permit ventilation to keep the cement dry. The great cement storage tanks keep grain, for any length of time, per fectly. When buying fruit trees, shrubs or vines it is always safest to get first grade stock. There is not much differ ence in price, but a big difference in quality of first and second grade stock. The careful orehardist will see that any tree which has been injured re ceives prompt attention. Wounds made by careless cultivators should be bound to keep out water until the scar is healed. Why do not more people grow cur rants for market? With such varieties as North Star, Victoria and Red Dutch, it will pay, and these sorts will be l'ound easy for cultivation and hardy. The best looking orchard I have seen this season is one in which the disc and harrow have been going nearly all sea son. The disc is driven lengthwise, crosswise, in fact most any way to get a.t the ground. There are no weeds, and the ground is mellow as an ash heap. I am fearful, however, that so much cultivation has produced more new growth than is really good for the trees.—L. C. B. An old fruit grower tells me that the pick is the best tool he has ever found to use around apple trees when the j ground has become too firm. He sinks j ihe pick eight or ten inches into the ; soil and merely pries loose the dirt, : without disturbing the roots. Some people dislike to lose any fruit, ' and would rather have two bushels of measly, worm eaten apples than one bushel of fine, perfect specimens. That may be the reason why some will not ; thin out their fruit, but one might sus- ) pect that something else was the real reason. With so much moisture in the ground it will not do to cultivate too late in the orchard. We need from now on conditions that will ripen up the wood that has been made this season. Trees that go into winter with immature wood are not in fit condition to stand freezing weather. A subscrfber asks which are the best red and black raspberries. The Miller , and Loudon are good red sorts, and In black caps, the Cumberland and Kan sas are as good as any. On thousands of western farms. 1 where cattle are fattened during the winter, the feed lots are situated on side hills on an elevation for the pur pose of drainage. The best drained feed yard is the one where all the ma nure can be saved. Not many farm horses are as well broken as the ponies of western herd- | ers. I have seen more than one of j these wild, dashing ponies ridden into town on a run stand for hours without ! hitching. The loose reins were dropped i down over his head and he would not budge until the reins were gathered up. | We talk too much to horses and they | become confused. There is enough back-breaking work ' to do without using the scoop shovel to j unload grain. Put in a portable dump j and elevator. The team will do the rest, and It will take only a few min- i utcs to crib a big load of corn. Mudding in oats has cost farmers in the central west millions of dollars this year. This practice, even with a toler ably dry growing season, is not advis able; and when wet, cold weather fol lows right on top of oats sown in mud,i there is not much hope for a crop. I A correspondent says that when grair^ | I is properly shocked it is a great saving) | to thresh out of the shock. The trouble I is that shocks are hurriedly set up and are not made to withstand rain or* wind, with the result that much grain is damaged before the thresher gets ( axound. 1 Calling Him Down. In her own home in the country Mrs. Marshall was a woman of dignity and sense In the affairs of her dally life, says Stray Stories, but w'hen she took one of her rare trips to town she was so keenly on the lookout for impositions that she sometimes acted impulsively. “I took down one impertinent young man today,” she announced proudly to her husband on her return from one of these trying holidays. 1 “I was glancing into the window of a hardware shop where there were some nice table knives, and I suppose I may have stood there some time; but I wasn’t blocking the way or troubling any one in the least. “All of a sudden a young shopman step ped out into the window, and right against the glass, close to where I was standing, he puts a great card with the words ‘Iron Sinks’ on It.” ‘‘Well, what—” began Mr. Marshall, but, his wife waved him into silence. f “I’d stood enough already from the car conductors, and so on,” she said firmly, “and I’d no idea of letting that pass. So I stepped into the shop and went right up to the young man and I said: ” ‘Did you think it was a good joke to place that card right into my face and eyes? Or did you suppose that I needed to be told that iron sinks?” “I spoke very sarcastic-like, and he be gan to color up; so I saw my advantage, and I said: ‘You’d better have another card printed with ‘Feathers Float,’ or some such thing on it, and when you see another respectabre woman from the country, old em^Tgh to be your mother, you can put that under her nose. I’d keep a number of those cards on hand If I were you.’ And then I marched out before he had a chance to say a word.” Edna May on Widows. “I had the honor,” said a New York club man, “to attend the dance In Lon don that Edna May gave at the Savoy on her retirement from the stage. ‘‘I found the young lady as pretty as ever. In fact, she had improved. Physi cally and mentally she had Improved, and at supper her mots, her witticisms, kept her neighbors smiling. “As she ate her coupe Jacques, I heard her say that it must be very difficult to be a widow. “ ’Difficult to be a widow?' said Joseph Coyne. ‘How do you mean difficult?’ “ ‘Well,’ said the beautiful' actress, with her demure and arch smile, ‘if one is a widow one must assume all the modesty Df girlhood, without being allowed to feign its ignorance.’ ” C. H. MACKAY’S $500,000 CASINO From the New York World. The 3500,000 casino and clubhouse it Roslyn, L. I., built for Clarence H. Vfacka.v from plans drawn by the late Stanford White, Is almost finished. It la 132x133 feet and contains marble from Vlabama, stone from Maine, limestone 'rom Indiana, cement from ' England, iteel work from France and tiling from Italy. The tennis court is an exact re production of the court of the old French prison where the game wah ori ginated as a pastime by the prisoners. The game differs greatlj* from the lsual lawn tennis. The court has a -ement floor and sides and Is 110 feet ong and 38^ feet wide. Above It Is a flass roof forty-six feet from the .'ement floor. The building Is constructed mainly >f clinker brick with stucco and half Imber front. It is but one story high, ilthough there is a high roof over the porch, the plunge room and the women’s bathroom. The building faces :he north, overlooking the'sound, with he buildings of the Bronx in view on a dear day. There Is a porch 40x10 feet at the mtrance to the building. Eight Corin hlan columns of cement support the porch root. Entering from the porch :here Is the Dedans salon, with hand tome red furniture, tables and slde poards of mission style, red velvet cur alns, all of which cost ahput 340,000. rhe other rooms are Just as handsome v furnished. The stone fire-place in ;he salon cost several thousand dollars. At the right of the salon Is the plunge -oom finished in Alabama marble, with i 12x20-foot pool and shower and plunge baths and massage rooms. The daustavina tiling overhead Is a novelty iere, and the floor tiling Is Italian. The women’s reception and bathroom, east pf the salon, Is fitted up similar to the plunge room. There Is also a squash ,-ourt for women. SOAKED IN COFFEE Until Too Stiff to Bend Over. “When I drank coffee I often had Sick headaches, nervousness and bil iousness much of the time, hut when I went to visit a friend I got In the hab it of drinking Postum. “I gave up coffee entirely and the % result has beeu that I have been en tirely relieved of all my stomach and nervous trouble. “My mother was Just the same way. We all drink Postum now and, with out coffee In the house for two years, we are all well. “A neighbor of mine, a great coffee drinker, was troubled with pains in her side for years and was an Invalid. She was not able to do her work and eould not even mend clothes or do anything at all where she would have to bead forward. If she tried to do a little hard work she would get such pains that she would have to lie down for the rest of the day. “At last I persuaded her to stop dTinking coffee and try Postum Food Coffee and she did so and has used Postum ever since; the result has been that she can now do her work, can sit for n whole day and mend and can sew on the machine, and she never feels the least bit of pain in her side; In fact, she has got well, and it shows coffee was the cause of the whole trou ble. “I could also tell you about several other neighbors who have been cured by quitting coffee and using Postum in its place." ‘Thero’s a Reason.” Look in package for the famous little boo^ ‘The Road to Wellvlle.” v' ^