I THE MARATHON MYSTERY
A STORY OF MANHATTAN. _
BY BURTON E. 8TEVEN8ON
j Author of “Tho Holladay Caso,” -‘Cadata of Gaooony,” Eto.
*.---. ...—
“Get a light here and we'll bring him
In. Come on, Tremaine.”
At the pier end lay a dark, huddled
figure. A lightning flash disclosed the
■taring eyes, the blood-stained face.
"Good God!” cried Delroy, and the
horror of It seemed to strike through
him, to palsy him.
Tremaine knelt down beside the body
and lifted a limp wrist. He held It a
moment, then laid It gently down.
"He’s quite dead," he said, and stood
quickly erect again, with a shudder he
could not wholly repress.
Delroy, swallowing hard, gripped
back his self-control.
"Wc can't leave him out here,” he
•aid; “perhaps there's a spark of life.
Lou take the legs; I’ll take the head.”
It was a heavy load and they stag
gered under It. From the boathouse a
light flashed out, and In a moment
young Graham came hurrying out. to
them and helped them forward, sobbing
drily.
They laid their burden on the cot
which the son had occupied and stood
for a moment looking down at It. The
boy seemed on the verge of collapse;
his l.ps were drawn, his teeth chatter
ing; the horrible sobbing did not stop.
Delroy turned to him sharply.
“William," he said, "I want you to
■how yourself a man. A good deal de
pends on you. Remember that—re
member too, that with your help, we’re
going to catch the scoundrel who did
this.”
wasn’t exactly smiling, but his round
face was shining wl»v> satisfaction.
Babylon and the neighboring villages
are quiet places and this was Heffel
bower’s first Important case since his
election. He would show his constit
uents how wise their choice had been.
"My dear sir,” he began, evidently
proud of his command of language, the
result of many years of saloon debates,
and speaking with distressing care
but with a racial Inability to conquer
the ”th,” “I know such a recital will
be painful to you—most painful—but I
must hear from you just how t’e dis
covery was made. You will naturally
be more anxious t'an anyone to bring
to Justice t’e scoundrel who committed
t’ls crime, so please give us all t’e
details possible. T'en I will know how
to proceed.”
From the moment of his entrance,
Tremaine had been contemplating the
coroner with half closed eyes; now, he
turned back to the window with a little
contemptuous smile.
"I'll tell everything I know, sir,” said
William, coming forward eagerly. "I
went up t’ th’ house about nine o’clock
and brought this cot down, Intendin’
t’ turn In here an' relieve father at
midnight. Father was settln’ out there
on th’ pier a-smokln’ his pipe when I
turned In. I went t’ sleep almost as
soon as I touched th’ plller. I don't
know how long It was, but after a while
I kind o’ woke up an’ heard voices
a-talkln' out there on the pier. I got
up an’ looked out tli’ winder an’ purty
soon I saw It was Mr. Drysdale with
father."
"Drysdale? Who's he?" asked fhe
coroner.
"He’s a friend of mine,” spoke up
Delroy quickly. "An old friend. He’s
staying here at the house with us. In
fact, he’s to marry my wife's sister."
The coroner bowed.
"Very well,” he said, turning back to
Graham, "you may continue.”
"Well,” went on the young fellow,
“as soon as I saw It was Mr. Drysdale,
I knowed It was all right, so I went
back to bed ag'ln. An’ I didn’t know
nothin’ more till a great clap o' thunder
nearly took th’ roof off th’ house. I
set up In bed, but I couldn’t seem t’
git awake ter a minute, my head was
whirlin’ so. Then I rot on my feet
nn’ looked out th' winder an’ Jest then
It lightened ag'ln an' I seen father
layln’ there”
He stopped with a sob that shook him
through and through.
“That will do for t’e present,” said
the coroner kindly. “It seems rather
extraordinary,” he added, turning to
Delroy, "t'at t'ls man should have sat
out t’ere In t’e rain at t’at time of
night. Was he fishing?”
Delroy sprang to his feet with a sud
den start.
“Fishing?” he cried. "No! I’d for
gotten. He was guarding my wife’s
necklace.”
He threw open the door and ran
out on the pier, the others following.
At the extreme end a rope was dangling
In the water. He reached over and
pulled It up. The wire cage was flap
ping open. The necklace had disap
peared.
CHAPTER VII.
of agony.
"Tnat’s what I want!” he cried.
"That’s nil 1 ask!”
“That's what we want, too," and Del
roy laid a calming hund upon his arm.
"Now go up to the house and rouse
Thomas, but don’t alarm anyone else.
Get Mm to telephone at once to Babylon
for Dr. Wise and for the coroner, and
tell them both to get out here as quick
ly as they can. Do you understand?”
"Yes, sir,” answered Graham, and
disappeared In the outer darkness.
For some moments, the two men
stood looking down at the body with
out speaking. Then Delroy stooped and
touched lightly the bloody forehead.
"See,” he said. ”hls head has been
beaten In.”
“Yes,” nodded Tremaine, “(he mur
derer struck boldly from the front—he
didn't think It necessary to steal un
behind.”
"But why didn't Graham defend him
self? He was armed. Why did he let
him get so near?”
"There’s only one possible explanation
of that," safd Tremaine drily, “suppos
ing, of course, that Graham didn’t fall
asleep. He knew the man and thought
him a friend. Perhaps they were even
talking together at the time the blow
wa^ struck.”
Detroy’s face turned livid and greut
beads of sweat broke out across his
forehead.
"That would explain It, certainly,’’ he
agreed hoarsely, “for there Isn't the
least likelihood that Graham was
asleep. But It’s too horrible, too fiend
ish; I can’t belteve It.”
Tremaine turned away to the window
wlttiout answering, and stood there
rolMng a clgaret between his fingers
and staring out ucross the water. The
storm had passer!, but by the broad
bands of llglrt which Hashed Incessantly
along Che horizon, he could see the
waves stin tossing tvlldly In the buy.
He ltghfted the clgaret with one long
lnnataeion, and stood there smoking it,
his back to the room and its dreadful
occupant. Efetroy sat limply down upon
a, chair and buried his head in his
hands.
A TIUHTISNINU COI1,.
The horizon was grey with the com
ing dawn, but it was still too dark on
the pier lo see anything distinctly, so
they went slowly back together to the
boathouse.
"Was t'e necklace a valuable one?"
asked the coroner, as he closed the
door.
"it. was worth over a hundred thou
sand dollars,” answered Delroy, and
explained briefly the purpose of the Im
mersion.
"How many persons were aware of
your intention to put it in t’e water
out here?” asked Heffelbower, when he
had (lnishod.
Delroy hesitated.
“So far as X know,” he answered
siowlv at last, “only myself, my wife,
her sister, Miss Croydon, Drysdale,
Tremaine, and the two Grahams."
“Tremaine?” repeated the coroner.
"I don’t t'ink you have mentioned him.
“Oh, I forge* to introduce you. This
is Mr. Tremaine. Mr. Heffelbower, a
friend of mine, who is staying with
me.”
The coroner bowed but he shot Tre
maine a sharp glance which did not
escape Delroy's notice.
"You will understand. Mr. Heffel
bower,” he added quickly, "l believe
the crime was committed by someone
else—I’m sure none of these could have
committed It."
“Ah.” said the coroner blandly, "t'en
t’ey were all In t’e house, I suppose?"
“I cun answer positively that my
wife. Miss Croydon, and Mr. Tremaine
were in the house the entire evening.”
"And Mr Drysdale?”
"Drysdale went out for a walk.
"A long one?”
"He was gone two or three horns.”
"Is he in t’e habit of walking after
night?"
“No,” answered Delroy slowly, "l
can't say that he Is."
"Did you see him when he came Ir. ?"
"Yes—I was looking out the window
at the storm."
“Did he appear as usual?"
Again Delroy hesitated.
"I see, of course," he said, at last
“what you are aiming at; but I'm surt
that Drysdale can explain his absence
as well as everything that happenet
during it I therefore answer eandidlj
that he dkl not appear as usual; In
Beemed excited and depressed. He lef
me in a fit of anger and went to hi;
room."
"Wtt'out explaining his action?"
"Yes—he made no effort to explaii
it.”
“Did any explanation occur to you?
"I thought perhaps ho was worryin;
over losses Incurred in speculation."
"Ah!—ho has Incurred such lossc;
t’en?”
“I do not know positively," said Del
roy, a little Impatiently. “I mere!
suspec t so ”
"Iss Mr. Drysdale still In his room?
"Yes, I suppose so. I haven't see
him since he went up to it."
"Mr. Tremaine was wit' you at t
’ time Mr. Graham burst In and an
1 nounced t’e murder?"
"Yes. we were In the hall talking U
gether.”
I "What time was It?"
"Nearly one o'clock. I should eay."
"T’ank you." and Heffelbower turn*
t back to make a more detailed exstmh
1 ation of the body. “Doctor Wise," I
1 asked, after a moment, 'from whit
I direction should you say t'ose' blov
• were struck?"
* “From directly In front," answer*
* the doctor.
I “But I see he has a pistol la I;
1 belt. Why did he not defend htrnse!
Why should he allow himself to I
1 beaten down?"
b "That question also oocurrsd to m<
■ observed Delroy. "Mr. Tremaine wui
• rested that it ««» benuiae fit aha
Presently there came the sound of
footsteps on the walk, the door opened,
and young Oralum* and Thomas came
, ,
”ur.'wise promised t’ come at once,
•lr, said the fatter to Delroy, his voice
•dropped Instinctively to a hoarse whis
he'd bring the coroner
with him.”
®clroy ndffied without looking up.
Anything else I can do, sir?” asked
Thomas, with one horrified glance at
the still ft>rm on the cot.
“Tes; go back to the house and bring
Sutssaf”1116 *hisky and a half dosen
“V^ry well, sir,” and Thomas hurried
•away. He was back In a surprisingly
lew minutes.
*<Q4ve Mr. Tremaine u glass." said
Delroy. "Tremaine,” he called, "take
* bumper, or you'll be catching cold."
*nd he himself brimmed a glass and
drained tt lit a draught. Tremaine took
his more slowly.
"You, too, William," said Delroy
"'Here, you need It,”
The boy, who had been standing be
■Ide the cot. his hands clasping and un
clasping convulsively, took the glass
me^himtcnlly and swallowed its con
Thomas carried the tray to the farth
est comer and sat down. Seeing that
no one noticed 111m, he filled a glass for
himself with a trembling hand.
Ten. twenty, thirty minutes passed—
thirty centuries during which no one
spoke. Then they heard tile swift clat
ter of a horse's hoofs, the whir of
wheels, and a buggy pulled up before
the door. Thomas had it open on the
Instant and two men walked In.
“What (S It. Delroy?" asked one of
them. "Nothing serious 1—ah’" he
added as his eyes fell upon the eot.
He went to It quickly. the other fo>
lowing; toadied the hideous wounds
looked Into the eyes, felt the temples.
"He'll theod." he said, at lust; "has
been dead two or three hours. I should
say. His slu/ft is crushed—fairly beaten
in. “It's your gardener, Grulnim, Isn't
It?*’
"Yes," Delroy answered.
The doctor stopped back.
"I turn the case over to you, Heffet
bower," he said. "It's In your province
now. Mr. Detroy, this Is Mr. Heffel
bower, the coroner."
Heffelbower bowed. He was a little
short man. bald-headed und with wide
open blue eyes that stared like a doll's
Primarily, he was a saloonkeeper, bu
had been elected coroner as u rewari
lor hi* valuable services to his party
He possessed a certln native shrewd
ness which lifted him to some extent to
the office; also a lack of nerves and :
familiarity with crime which might of
ten be of service.
"f presume." he began slowly, "fa
l ls man wasn't killed here In Ills bed'."
"No." said Delroy, "we found him ly
Ing out on the pier yonder. We though
It only common humanity to bring htr
in. since there might have been a spar:
of life left."
"OH. of course." agreed the coronei
Instantly, visibly impressed by Delroy'
presence. "T’at was t .ght. Who foun
t’e body?"
"H|s son. there," and Delroy Indicate
young Graham by a gesture.
Hie coroner turned toward him;
waa easy to «ee that he had a hig
•pinkm of Ms own ability as a oroi
examiner and detector of crime. H
thought his murderer a friend and at*
ticlpated no assault. So he allowed hln
to approach unchallanged, and wa»
wholly unprepared for the treacherous
attack."
The coroner looked at Tremaine
again with a glance In which suspicion
had changed to admiration.
"T’at Isa. Indeed, very probable ex
planation." he said. "In fact, I haven't
t'e least doubt It iss t’e true one. Gra
ham would not have allowed a strang
er to aproach him; but If he had come
on. Graham would have prepared for
t’e attack and would have given a good
account of himself. He seems a very
powerful man.”
As he spoke, he lifted one of. the
muscular hands; then, with a little ex
clamation of surprise, he bent and
examined It more closely.
"Come nearer, gentlemen," he said,
his face flushed with excitement. "I
want you to witness t’at he has some
t’lng between his fingers."
They stooped and looked as he indi
cated. They could see that the hand
clasped tightly some small, dark ob
ject.
"Let us see what It Is," Heffelbower
continued, and bent back the stiffen
ing fingers.
The object fell out Into his hand. He
held It up In the glare of the light so
that all might see. It was a button
with a little shred of cloth attached.
"If we can find t’e garment t’at t’ls
came from,” said the coroner triumph
antly, turning It over and looking at
it. "we shall probably find t’e murder
er. It Is a good clew.
He placed the button carefully In his
pocketbook and turned to the window.
"I t’lnk it lss light enough,” he said,
"to take a look at t'e scene of t’e crime.
I shall t'en return to Babylon-”
“I have thought," remarked Delroy,
"of calling In a New York detective.
Should you object-”,
“Not In t’e least," HefTelbower broke
in. "I shall welcome eferyl'ing t’t will
assist In bringing t’e guilty person to
justice. Only,” he added pompously, j
’’wit’ t'e clews which I already possess,
and wit' t'e ot’ers which I expect to
find, I believe it will be unnecessary.
T’e guilty man will not escape, I’ll
promise you t’at, Mr. Delroy,” and he
opened the door and stepped out upon 1
the pier.
Dawn was In the sky, a clear, warm, J
Joyous dawn. In tree and bush and
hedge the birds were welcoming it. All
nature was rejoicing, quite Indifferent
to the human tragedy which had
marked the night.
They went together down the pier to
the spot where Graham had fallen. The
rain had washed away nearly all the
blood-stains. His rifle lay on the pier
beside the chair In which he had been
sitting. The chair was overturned.
“But t’e wind may have done t’at,"
said the coroner, when Delroy pointed
out that the overturned chair suggest
ed a struggle “Or maybe he knocked
It over when he fell. Let’s have a look
at l Hi mue cage.
Ho pulled up the rope. The lid of
the cage was open, but It did not seem
to be Injured.
“Maybe t’e waves proko It open.”
suggested Heftelbower.
“They couldn't have done that,” ob
jected Delroy. “See—here’s how It
fastened.”
He closed the lid and snapped Into
place three small but very strong
hooks, which locked automatically.
“The only thing that could open it,”
he added, “was a human hand."
"And an Intelligent one, at t'at,” con
cluded the coroner. “It would be very
hard to find t'ose little hooks In t’e
dark, unless one knowed Just where
t’ey were.”
“Yes,” admitted Delroy, "That’s
true.”
Heffelbower opened his Ups to say
something more; then changed hjg
mind, closed them, and turned away
with a significant smile. He examined
the knots in the rope, the pier, the w’a
ters of the bay, on which just beyond
the pier, a small boat was riding at
anchor.
“T’e boat is yours, I suppose, Mr.
Delroy?” he asked,
“Yes—it has been there ready for use
since Saturday.”
As he spoke a gust of wind swung
the boat in towards them.
Young Graham, who was standing
on the extreme edge of the pier, glanced
down into it, and uttered a sudden ex
clamation.
“What’s that?” he cried, with arm
outstretched.
The others followed the gesture, but
a second gust swung the boat away.
"What was It?” asked the coroner.
Without answering. Graham sprang
Into the water, and with a few strokes
reached the boat. He climbed into it
and untied it from the buoy. Then,
at the Instant another gust of wind
came from the ocean, he released his
hold. The boat was swept against the
pier: he fended her off with the boat
hook and made fast.
"This Is what I meant,” he said, and
pointed to a pistol lying at his feet.
They stared down at it, amazed. It
was the coroner who spoke first.
“Pass It up,” he said.
He turned it over carefully in hts
hand It was a fine type of the Smith
& Wesson. It was fully loaded; none
of the chambers had been discharged.
“Ah,” he said, “see t’ere,” and he
pointed to a clot of blood on the butt.
“T’e butt Iss very heavy,” he added,
turning It up. "And see—here are
some Initials—J. T. D. Whose are t’ey?"
"They are John Tolbfrt Qrysdale’s.”
answered Delroy In a low voice.
(Continued Next Week.)
No Chesterfield.
A Christian Scientist of Boston was
praising the late earl of Dunmore.
•'Lord Dunmore,” he said, "was a
good Christian Scientist and a good
man. Tall rnd robust and supple, I
can see him still with his short gray
beard and his kind face. His only
fault—a fault due to his aristocratic
upbringing, no doubt—was tne exag
gerated value that he set upon correct
ness. He insisted on correctness in eat
ing, In dress, in everything.
"At a dinner in Beacon street last
i year I heard him tell a story about an
incorrect self-made man. of "nouveau
riche,' as he called him.
i "This man was dressing one evening
to go out. His wife bustled into the
room before he started, to look him
; over.
" 'But, Oeorge,' she said reproach
, fi.liy, ‘aren't you going to wear your
d'amond studs to the ' -nquet?’
" No. What’s the use?’ George
t giowled. ’My napkin would hide ’em
anyway.’ ”
1 Congregation Laughed.
Former President Patton, of Prince
o ton university, recently delivered a ser
- num at Fifth Avenue Collegiate church
on the subject of “Faith.'' He spoke
- of the blind faith of the client who
puts himself at the mercy cf a lawyer
in preparing an action tor trial, and
of the confidence of the sick In entrust
d ins themselves to the physician.
A case of blind faith." said the
? clergyman. "The doctor writes out u
n prescription. Oftener than not you
ft cannot read It and you don't know
what it is. He tells you to take It
d 'Yours Is not to reason why; yours bui
to do and die’."
is Whether or not Dr. Patton meant li
t? (her" was a distinct ripple Ihroughoiu
>« the congregation.
A woroa* get* her for;une told so ih
[. 'f It evsr should came true aha could a '
in she knew it was coins to happen.
THE COLT’S FEET.
When the colt Is taken In from the pas
ture Its hoofs are usually long, and ex
tending down below the sole for a more
or less considerable distance so that when
it Is put upon the hard floor or allowed
to exercise upon the frozen ground, the
hoofs breaks off irregularly or where it
does not break off it is very likely to
wear uneven and then the weight of the
body upon the legs has a tendency to put
them out of the proper alignment thereby
throwing too much strain upon some parts
while other parts do not have to sustain
their proper amount of weight.
And this unequal distribution of weight
has a tendency to produce an excessive
development of the parts that bear the
heavy portion while the other parts do
not fully develop, and as the colt grows
to maturity this disproportionate develop
ment of the foot and leg Is very likely to
continue with the result that when ma
turity Is reached or before, these parts
are in such a preserved condition that they
soon give out under the strain work and
the animal goes lame with what is very
often an incurable trouble. Much of this
could be obviated if a little attention was
given to the foot, especially when the ani
mal is taken from the soft cushion like
ground of the pasture and placed in the
hard floor of the stable or frozen ground.
It is not difficult to level up a colt's
feet. All the tools that are needed is a
pair of hoof cutting pinchers and a hoof
rasp. The long parts of the hoofs can be
removed with the pinchers, and after
these are removed the wall can be leveled
and smoothened with the rasp. It should
not take over five or ten minutes to prop
erly treat all four feet of a small colt.
And if It is done at the proper time,
spavin and ringbone and such diseases
will not be so prevalent.
Again the free high stepping gait of a
colt is often materially lnterferred with be
cause of the improper developments of the
foot and leg.
This may appear like a little thing and
all theory to many farmers, but when you
take into consideration the number of
steps that an animal takes in traveling a
mile, and figure the length of time it re
quires to take a step, or to put it another
way figure the number of steps an animal
takes per minute In traveling four or five
miles an hour, one can readily see that a
very slight Imperceptible hitch at each
step, would soon amount to considerable
and then take Into consideration the fact
that the animal not only has to carry its
own weight besides such a load as may
be behind and also this defect due to
faulty development. It should be evident
to all that a small defect will in reality
amount to much at the close of the day.
And this day after day will sooner of later
tell upon the vitality of the parts if not
upon the general system of the animal.
All are familiar with the old adage, "no
foot no horse.” But few people like to
drive a lame horse consequently any
lameness especially one that is likely to
remain permanent, very materially re
duces the value of the animal.
Ordinarily the sole and frog of the foot
of a colt should not be lnterferred with
any more than is necessary to level up the
foot. But whenever the wall breaks oft
unevenly or one side of the foot grows
longer than the opposite the foot should
be leveled up.
LOOKING AT THE FEED END.
Too many dairymen look only at on»
end of their business. They seem to
think that If they get a fair quantity
! of milk every day that they are making
money. Of course milk Is what we are
after, and the more of It and the bet
ter the quality so much more will be
our profits, providing the feeding end
has been kept in right proportion. There
j Is as much opportunity for profit by
! feeding right as there is in selling
right, yet the majority of dairymen
could not tell for the life of them how
much It costs to produce a gallon of
milk or a pound of butter. The feeding
end of dairying involves a careful sys
tem of farming, for wheat growing and
good dairying will not go well together.
Where the feeding end of dairying is
i looked after right there will always b»
found plenty of com, oats, clover hay
i and clover pastures, and the winter ra
tions of the cows will be so nicely bal
anced that maximum results are ob
tained right along through the cold
weather. I visited a dairy farm in
Carroll county last week where dairy
ing and general farming are carried on.
Here nice, bright fodder was stored in
the barns, the straw was In the mows,
and there was tons of mangels to give
succulence to the winter rations. There
was a good size cutting box, and bran
and oil meal were on hand. The only
weak points I saw here was the lack
of a silo, which would go a long way in
cheapening winter feed. In order to
get a cow to use her foods economically
and do her best, she must have a cer
tain proportion of different milk pro
ducing foods, and the profits of winter
dairying will depend upon how well
these are supplied. It pays to look at
the feed end of dairying first, for the
chances are that you will lose out at
the other end if the first is neglected.
BETTER CREAM.
Many wonder sometimes why they
cannot get as good cream during winter
as they do during the warm months.
The trouble all comes from the way the
cream is handled. Many do not realize
that cream should be cooled in winter
just as promptly as in summer. Tc
maintain the quality of cream it should
be cooled immediately after separation
and kept at a low temperature. An
other thing which hurts cream dur
ing cold weather is lack of cleanliness
in handling the cows and leaving the
milk around the barn for an hour or
two. The same thing may be said of
the milk utensils. Many think that
cold will keep these things sweet and
clean, and utensils are not washed
properly. One of the most prolific
sources of trouble Is the location of the
cream separator. I recently saw one in
i a bed room, and another one was lo
cated In a small side room where the
1 men took off their work clothes and
boots. Better cream means better care
j all along the line.
I DONT SELL YOUR GOOD COWS.
| Whenever a dairyman begins to sell
| his good cows, because someone comes
along and offers him an extraordinary
price, bis doom is sealed. The whole
success of the dairy depends upon
i keeping only good cows and getting rid
of the poor ones. Some men are just
short-sighted enough to never find out
the difference In their cows, and will
stick to the whole bunch, as if their
lives depended upon It. But there are
shrewd buyers in the field all the time
| hunting for 300-pound cows, and they
are always ready with a big price for
i such a cow. There Is only one way I
: would sell good cows and that would
; be, selling the entire herd, and make
i the good ones sell the poor ones. The
man who Is in the business to stay
should simply shut his eyes to all of
fers for his good cows, and keep his
eyes wide open hunting the best in the
. country.
TUBERCULOSIS IN HOGS.
Wishing to test the matter of hogs be
coming Infected with tuberculosis from
the milk of tubercular cows, the Iowa ex
periment station at Ames fed four lots of
pigs four and one-half months with milk
that was Infected with the germs of bo
vine tuberculosis and with pasteurized
milk free from such bacilli. Two lots
were fed in lots with timothy pasture and
the other two in dry lots. One of each of
the lots was given tubercular food from
four to seven times and at the end of the
period expert hog buyers could see no
signs of disease and considered the whole
lot worth the top of the market, except
four head, which were small.
Poet mortem examinations found that
only one-fourth of these twenty head that
had had the tubercular baccllll were tit
for consumption, though 45 per cent, of
the lot were not so badly affected that
they could not be used for lard purposes
with entire safety. Of those fed the pas
tuerized milk none were affected. It there
fore seems plain that In the short space of
four and one-half months healthy pigs
were made unlit for market purposes by
feeding the germs of tuberculous diseases.
Careful Inquiry Into the ancestry of these
pigs indicated that there was no tubercu
lar disease connected with any of them,
so that the cause of the disease was en
tirely In the food. If this result Is at
tained in this time, what will be the con
dition of hogs sold from farms that al
ready have the disease or are fed on milk
from tubercular cows for the year or less
of their natural lives before being put on
the market?
SAVE THE COW MANURE.
Of all the elements of food for grow
ing crops, phosphoric acid Is the one
which growers will do well to use judi
ciously. It Is an element which Is defi
cient on most farms, and for this rea
son the dung of cows, which contains
nearly all of the phosphoric acid,
should be carefully saved and applied
to lands. The manure made by cows
supplies nearly all elements of crov
’ growth. The urine contains most ol
the nitrogen, the dung the phosphoric
acid, and the coarse stuff, such as
straw, most of the ash. There Is less
than half a pound of phosphoric acid lr
100 pounds of well rotted manure, so II
is essential that every bit of the ma
nure be saver. Milch cows, at best, dc
not produce a high class manure, be
cause of the elements which are sole
off In the milk. Use plenty of straw
for bedding, nnd then get the manur<
out on the fields where It will count.
FARM FACTS.
Try barley next spring as a nurse
crop for grass or clover. Those whi
have used It this season are mucl
pleased with the results.
Tou can pick out the rented farms li
any section where both landlords am
I tenants aim to get the most out of tin
I land. Any system of renting, whlcl
I does not provide for elovoring or sonr
other means for fertilizing up th
soil, depreciates the land every yeai
About the best Investment that on
can make this month Is a half day'
i work fixing up the hen house. Wit]
. ggs around 25 ednts a dozen It wl!
! pay to keep the hens laying. Let 1
sunshine, clean up and whitewash, an.
“ provide clover, grit and dust. The
t watt for results.
MARKET GRAIN THROUGH COWS
A careful feeder can market his grain
and forage through his cows to a bet
ter advantage than any other source.
The profit of the transaction depends
upon the skin of the feeder and the
ability of hie cows to use their food
1 economically. During periods of high
i prices many cut down the rations of
their cows, and. while this does the
cows no particular harm, yet It cuts
off profits Just that much. The cow
I needs so much food to keep up her body
requirements, and she appreciates all
the food she gets until she gets suf
ficient to meet those requirements.
Hence tt i» evident that the profit to
the owner must come from the food
consumed above the actual needs of the
cow. Don’t stint on the milch cow's
feed, but rather feed all that your
cows will consume, providing, of course,
they turn their food into milk.
WATCH THE COWS.
There has been more than the usual
number of cases of abortion among
dairy cows reported during the past
year. The increase of this affection
cartnot be accounted for. unless it
comes from contagion. The dairyman
should be on the lookout now for any
chronic cases. Better remove from the
general herd any cow that has ever
aborted. Much can be done to avert
this trouble by toning up the cow's
system, and keeping her free from ex
citement and In comfortable quarters.
Right now is the time to attend to these
matters. Don't wait until one or more
cows have prematurely dropped their
calves, and thus lay the Whole herd
open to Infection. If it is not feasible
to Isolate the chronic cases, better use
more vigorous measures and get rid of
them. No one should risk the useful
ness of a young herd by having around
any cow that aborts year after year.
DAIRY "NOTES.
The aim should be to get ns many
well bred cows as possible into the
milking herd. But that does not mean
: that ail the cows should be pure bred
i Start with a pure bred dairy bull. Ha
will grade the herd in the right di
rection.
The man who sells the manure made
! on his farm might just as well do that
[ as anything else. He Is pretty neat
| the end of his string anyway.
‘ If cream Is kept too long it will not
" churn readily. For quick and easy
' churning the cream should be brought
to the right temperature at least two
i hours before starting lo churn.
i -
i A subscriber asks It he should feed
I clover hay with silage. Yes, by all
1 ‘ means. Silage is low In protein and
i} must be fed with clover hay and oth
i ! *r high protein foods to give the beat
F results.
Coth of One Mina.
From the Philadelphia Inquirer.
A fat Irish woman, bearing a numbeH
of bundles, entered a crowded tram car.
The only semblance of a seat she could
find was a small space at the right of aj
disagreeable youth. Into this space,
sufficient only for an individual of„or
dinary size, the flesl Irish woman
squeezed herself, much to the annoy
ance of the futh. After a moment ori
so the Irish woman produced a cheese*
sandwich, which she proceeded to de-!
vour with every evidence of relish. At:
this the youth gave her a look of In
effable disgust and drew the skirts of
his frock coat closer to him.
"I suppose, me lad," good naturedly
said the woman, “that ye’d prafer-r to
have a gintleman sittin’ nixt to ye?”
"I certainly would!” snapped tha
youngster. ”
"So w'ould 1.” calmly responded th«
fat person.
/
"In Russia they don’t allow soldier*
to marry.’’
“That’s foolish, I think.”
“Why?”
“Because a married man has mory
experience in warfare.”
The Witness.
When the Boston attorney. Mason*
was preparing the case of E. A. Avery
and had examined about 200 witnesses,
somebody called to see him. The legal
gentleman sent word that he was occu
pied and could not be interrupted.
“But the man Is a witness—a Metho
dist minister.”
“Call him up,” said Mason. “Well,
fir. what can you testify?”
“I had a vision—two angels have ap
peared to me, and told me that Brother
Avery is innocent —”
“Let them be summoned,” said Ma
son as he resumed his work.
How’s This?
We offer f>ne Hundred Dollars Rewerd foe
•ny case of Catarrh that cannot be cured by
Hall’s Catarrh Cure.
F. J. CHENEY a CO., Toledo, O.
We, the undersigned, have known F. J.
Cheney for the last 15 years, and believe
him perfectly honorable In all business
transactions, and financially able to carry
out any iibllgations made by his firm.
Walding, Ki.vnan a Marvin;
Wholesale Druggists, Toledo, O.
Halt’s Catarrh Cure Is taken Internally,
acting dlreetlv upon the blood and mucous
surfaces of the system. Testimonials seat
free. Price, 75c per bottle. Sold by all
Druggists.
Take Hall’s Family Pills for constipation.
PEACOCK SOCKS THE FASHION
From the London Express.
Hitherto It has been supposed that the
love of color in dress appeals to women
only, but the latest fashion in socks shown
that man also loves to deck himself out in
the gay colors of the peacock.
This Is the age of the variegated sock.
Walk down the Burlington arcade and
you will see the windows of the select
hosiers flaming with socks of many col
ors. Purple with yellow spots, green
with, red spots, black with pink stripes,
and startling blends of manve, brown and
magenta brighten the windows.
To wear somber socks nowadays is ta
put yourself at once outside the pale of
society. Indeed, so fashionable is the bril
liant sock that at Henley this year thera
were “sock competitions” among the gild
ed and flanneled youths.
Prizes were offered for the best effect
In colored socks, and the» young man that
won was best out of twenty, with, green
stripes on a white ground.
A Burlington arcade hosier said that
colored socks are the result of the en
tente cocdlale. English fashions are be
coming more Parisian, and low shoes aro
being worn to a greater extent In order
to show the smartness of the socks.
This Is the law of the sock as laid
down by him: “Strtpes should always
be vertical, never round the sock, and
generally a man should &ee that his ties
and socks are the same color.
“Really smart people have the same bu%
In ties, socks, braces and handkerchiefs.'*
He added that Englishmen are now pay
ing far more attention to the detail of
their dress than formerly. Nobody dashea
into the shop and buys a dozen of “black’*
swiftly. Sock buying has become a serioun
thing, almost as serious as buying a cigar
or choosing a motor-car.
The new styles in socks are the kalei
doscopic end the rainbow (which contain
all the colors jumbled together), helk>
trope. light green, ecru or champagne,
bright yellow and dark green. Oddly
enough pink is tabooed. Nobody know*
why. but he who wears pink socks 1*
| reckoned a pariah.
BEGAN YOUNG.
Hud “Coffee Nerrei” from Yoalk.
“When very young I began using
coffee and continued up to the past six
months,’’ writes a Texas girl.
“I had been exceedingly nervous,thin,
and very sallow. After quitting coffee
and drinking Postum Food Coffee about '*■'
a month my nervousness disappear-*!
i and has never returned. This is tha
more remarkable as I am a primary
| teacher and have kept right on with my
work.
“My complexion now is clear and
rosy, my skin soft and smooth. As a
good complexion was something I had
greatly desired, I feel amply repaid
even thongh this were the -uly benefit
derived from drinking Postum.
“Before beginning Its use I nad suf
fered greatly from Indigestion and
bendnche; those troubles are now un
known.
“Best of all, I changed from coffee t»
Postum without the slightest Incon
venience, did not even have a head
ache. Hare known coffee drinkers wha
' were visiting me, to use Postum a week
i without being aware that they were not
drinking coffee.
“I have known several- to begin th*
I use of Postum and drop It because they
j did not boil it properly. After explain
ing how It should be prepared they
| have tried It agalu and prduouuced it
' delicious.”
Name given by Postum Co., Battle
Creek, Mich, (tend the booklet. “The
■ Road to Wellvllte,*' In pkga. ’’Tbere'e
| a Res son."
