~..—.—
; [the juhrathok jhystery
A STORY OF MANHATTAN.
BY BURTON E. STEVENSON
Author of "Tha Holladay Caao,” '‘Cadet* of Gaecony,” Eto.
.—.. ..- - -
Godfrey had listened with Intent eyes
and a quick nod from time to time.
'There Is only one potnt lacking,” he
eald. "Did Tremaine know of your In
tention to tell Drysdale the story?”
"Yes—he even charged me with that
Intention.’’
"Ah—he has listened at a keyhole,
probably."
“He said that Mr. Drysdale himself
had told him. I might add, Mr. God
frey, that I met Mr. Drysdale and the
officers tn the hall that morning, as
they were going away, and I Implored
him to tell them where he had been. He
answered me with such insult and con
tempt that I thought he must be mad."
"And no wonder! You were playing
at cross-purposes. I presume, then,
that It was not you who wrote Mr.
Drysdale this note?" and he handed her
the crumpled sheet of paper he had
fished from Drysdale's waste-basket.
She took It with trembling hand; al
ready beginning to suspect, perhaps,
what It contained.
” ’Be at the pergola at nine, she
read. ” ’If I am late, wait for me. G.’
I certainly never wrote any such note
as that, Mr. Godfrey. Where did it
come from?”
"Is It In your handwriting?"
“Why, yes,” she answered, looking at
It more closely. “That Is, It Is some
thing like. Oh! I begin to see!" she
cried, and I saw her seized with a sud
den convulsive shuddering.
"Yes,” said Godfrey, "It was a pretty
plot. This note lured him from the
bouse, and . kept him away until the
ftorm came up and he was forced to
abandon the hope of meeting you. He
concluded that you were pluylng with
him—when he returned to the house,
he found that you had spent the even
ing with Tremaine—afterwards, in his
room, he did a number of violent and
follsh things. Finally, he determined
to go away; he started to pack his be
longings—and then, In the hall, you, as
he thought, added Insult to Injury by
asking him to tell-”
i -i J l, 1 <> iitII,! irpctitt'A
"Oh. I must see him!" she cried.
•■Something must be done-”
"Something shall be done,” Godfrey
assured her, rising. "Tho real culprit
•hall be In custody tonight."
"The real'culprit?” The words arrest
ed her attention.
"Who but Tremaine?"
“Tremaine? But he was In the house
—as you know, I talked with him for a
long time.”
"In the same vein?”
She colored a little at the tone.
"Yes,” she answered. "You will, per
haps, thinks me weak, Mr. Godfrey;
but despite his villainy, thero was a
fascination, a sort of brutal power,
about the man, which It was very hard
to resist. And then. I believed that
Mr. Drysdale had deliberately broken
his engagement with me. Otherwise, 1
should not have given Mr. Tremulne
another opportunly to- to-”
She did not attempt to finish the
sentence—there was no need thut sna
•should. I have often wondered, since,
-what the end would have been had fate
■not Interfered—had Tremaine's plan
worked Itself out as he intended. He- j
-memberlng both of them—man and
woman—I think she must huve yielded I
In the end; submitted; gone with him j
out Into the world to conquer it. . I
“There’s no questioning Tremaine's j
-fascination," agreed Godfrey, "nor Ids
• ability; yet I fancy that In spite of Ids
precautions we’ve got him fust In the
met. That is all, I think."
"One thing more, Mr. Godfrey," she
•said; do you think we'd better tell Mr. j
Delroy the story?”
“Yes,” answered Godfrey decidedly. 1
“Tell him the whole story. That's al
ways the best way and the sufrnt. He
member, your lack of frankness has al
ready cost one human life. Your sis
ter has Incurred no guilt; she has com
mitted no fault. Her husband will have
•nothing to forgive.”
“And the public?”
"The public? What hns (he public
do do with It?*'
"But 1 thought—you see--you-"
"Oh. you thought I would write It up
In the Record? 1 have no such Inten
•tlon. Miss Croydon—I shall let
that first tragedy rest—this second one
•will be enough—and. after all. Tre
maine has only one life for the law to
lake.”
"Pardon me,” she sold quickly, hold
ing out her hand. "I see I have of
fended you. You must forgive me."
“Oh, I do." he said, taking her hand
and smiling Into her eyes—allowing
himself a moment's reward. “Even a
yellow journalist. Miss Croydon, lms
his reticences. That's hard to believe,
Isn't It7”
"Not when one knows them," she .un
answered, and opened the door for us. j
Thomas was waiting In the hall.
"Anytlilrg else, sir?" he asked.
"No." said Oodfrey. "We’ve finished
here. Now let us have our trap."
He stopped a moment in the library
to say goodby to Delroy. He vame for
ward eagerly to meet us.
"Well?" he asked. "Can you clear
Jack?"
“Yes," said Godfrey, "we can. What's
more, we will.”
"Thank God!” and Delroy passed his
hand across his forehead. "This whole
thing has been a sort of terrible night
mare to me, Mr. Godfrey. I'm hoping
thut I may even yet wake up and find
tha{ It was all only a dream."
Godfrey smiled a little bitterly.
"I'm afraid you won’t do that. Mr.
Deliroy," he said; "but. at least. I be
lieve you'll find that, In the end, it will
•weep a great unhappiness out of your
life. And I’m sure that, with Mr. Les
ter's help, I can clear Drysdale."
Thomas came to tell us that our trap
-was waiting, and Delroy went down
the steps with me.
"I hope to have you here some time
under more favorable circumstances,"
he said, and shook us both warmly by
the hand.
Evening had come, and the darkness
deepened rapidly as we drove back
along the-road to Babylon.
"We can't get a train till 8:42," said
Godfrey, “so we'll have dinner at the
hotel and then go around for a talk
with our client. I think we have some
news that will cheer him up."
"It seemed to me." I observed, "that
It was not at all about his arrest that
i -he was worrying.”
^ “It wasn’t,” agreed Godfrey. "That's
w-hat I meant.”
The lights of Babylon gleamed out
: ahead, and a few minutes later we
drew up before the hotel. As we en
tered the office, I saw the proprietor
«t cast a quick glance at a little fat man,
with a round face, who had been lean
ing against the cigar stand, and whe
mediately came forward to meet us.
K “I am Coroner Hcffelbower," he said
with an evident apprtx-lntlon of his owr
Importance. "I believe you arc t'e gen
tlcmen who represent Mr. Drysdale?’
"Mr. Lester here, of Graham d
Boyce, will represent Mr. Drysdale,'
R:v..
explained Godfrey. "I am merely one
of his friends."
"The inquest, I believe. Is set for to
morrow morning at 10 o’clock?" I
asked.
‘‘Yes, sir; t'ough we shall hardly get
lo t’e evidence before afternoon. T’e
morning will be spent In looking ofer
t’e scene of t’e crime.”
‘T understand," said Godfrey, with
studied artlessness, "that you have
found the missing necklace.”
The coroner flushed a little; evidently
that was a sore subject.
“No, sir,’ 'he answered, "we haven't
found It, I haf about come to t’e con
clusion t’at Drysdale t’rew It Into t’e
pay."
"Hut," I objected, "he'd hardly have
committed a murder to gain possession
of it, only to throw It away!”
"He would. If my t’eory Iss right,
sir," returned the coroner, with some
spirit.
"What is your theory?" I asked.
“No matter; no matter,” and he was
fairly bloated with self-importance.
"You will see tomorrow."
Godfrey was looking at him, his
eyes alight with mirth.
"I see,” he broke In. "Accept my
compliments, Mr. Heffelbower. It Is
the only theory that fits the case. Don’t
you understand, Lester? Here's a young
man of wealth, who deliberately goes
out and kills a man, steals a necklace
and throws It Into the ocean. He at
tempts to establish an alibi; he refuses ,
to answer any questions; after the ,
murder he rages around In his room
and breaks things; he Insults the girl
he's engaged to; quarrels with his best ,
friend. Why, It’s as plain as day! A
man who would behave like that must ,
be—”
“Crazy!” cried the coroner, beaming
with satisfaction. “I could not haf put
t'e case petter myself, sir!" i
And Godfrey gravely bowed his ,
thanks at the compliment.
CHAPTER III.
GODFEY AND I ARE "DE TROP.” ,
Heffelbowcr insisted that we Join him
in an appetiser; he had evidently
Jumped to the conclusion that Godfrey
was a famous New York detective, and
he gazed at him with reaped and a
little awe. He wanted to discuss again
all tho details of the tragedy, but we
got rid of him, after a while, and went
In to dinner. Then wc started for the
Jail for a final talk with Drysdale.
Another Jailer had come on duty, but
lie made no difficulty about admitting
us.
"Well?” asked the prisoner, as soon
as we were alone.
“Oh,” said Godfrey, regarding him
with a good humored smile, “you won't
be electrocuted this time—though I
must say you deserve It!"
"What!" cried Drysdale, coloring sud
denly. “You don't believe"——
"That you killed Graham? Oh, no:
but you've made an unmitigated ass of
yourself, my friend. Did you have a
pleasant time, Monday night, kicking
your heels by the hour together, out at
the pergola?"
Drysdale Hushed again, but this time
It was with anger.
"Oh, so she told you, did she?" he
ns.ced between ids teeth. "X dare say
had a good laugh together over
“Jack, said Godfrey calmly, "I pro
tect you fire becoming more find more
asinine! Haven’t you sense enough to
stv that that nrte—by the way, how
was it delivered to you?"
"t found It on my dressing table when
I came back from New York Monday
evening. What are you driving at
Godfrey? If you’ve discovered any
thing, for God s sake tell me straight
out!
I VP discovered an unusually large
consignment cl’ humble pie awaiting !
your consumption. You don't deserve 1
a magnificent girl like that, Jack; I
swear you don't. l)o you remember 1
your last words to her?''
"Yes," answered Drysdale, with a 1
sudden flushing- of the cheeks. And she
deserved them. She got me out of the
house and spent the evening with Tre
maine. It was an Indirect way of tell
ing me that she was tired of me I'd
suspected It before!"
Godfrey looked at hint pityingly,
iir!lei8lily' J*e aa,fi< “I'm half In
» i e.i tu 1 ,lnlt ,he coroner's right in
hlw theory, after n 11.”
"What Is his theory?"
"He thinks you’re crazy "
laugh8’31116 ,auehecl a iutle mirthless
"Perhaps he's right." he said
"You'll be sure of it in a few min
utes It s inconceivable that any man
n dij right mind should suspect a girl
like Miss Croydon of such a thing "
Drysdale turned to him with eyes
bright with emotion.
“See here, Jim," he said: "you've had
your fun; you’ve tormented me long
enough. Do you mean that Miss Croy
don didn’t write the note?”
“I moan just that.”
“Then who did?”
“Tremaine!”
The word brought Drysdale to his
feet like a thunder clap.
"Do you mean," he demanded, grip
ping his hands tight behind him, "that
Tremaine wrote the note and placed It
In my room In order to get me out of
the house?"
"I do."
"And that Miss Croydon knew noth
ing about It?"
"Not a thing—she was waiting for
you In the house. She thought y.ou'd
deliberately broken an appointment
you'd made with her."
Drysdale ground his teeth together
and struck himself a savage blow In
the chest.
"Good God!" he groaned. "What a
fool! What a perfect, muckle-headed
fool!"
"Go on," laughed Godfrey. "Do It
again—sackcloth and ashes! You de
serve It all!”
"Deserve It! Do you think she’ll ever
forgive me?"
“I shouldnt's If I were In her place,"
Godfrey assured him. “I'd think my
self well rid of you. I shouldn't want
to marry an Idiot."
Drysdale cursed dismally to himself.
"Still.” Godfrey added, “there's no
accounting for the whims of women—
there's no telling what they'll do. May
be, after this, you'll come nearer ap
preciating her as she deserves."
"Appreciating her!"
"You don't seem to have any curios
ity as to how we re going to save that
precious neck of yours," Godfrey ob
served.
"Oh, damn my neck! What do I
care! Godfrey, I've got to see her right
away—I've got to get down on my
knees—crawl in the dust"
"That's it!" nodded Godfrey approv
ingly. "You've caught the idea. You
ought to feel like an Insect—a partic
ularly small one. Hut I hardly be
lieve the Jailer will release you on your
own recognizance. Maybe, tomorrow
after the Inquest, If everything goes
well"
“Oh, tomorrow be hanged! I’ve got
to see her right away, Jim! Isn’t there
any way?’’
He was pacing furiously up and down
the cell, biting his nails, tearing his
hair. Could Tremaine have seen him
then he might have modified his esti
mate of him.
“There's no way,” Raid Godfrey, “un
less Miss Croydon herself should com
mit the Inconceivable felly—hello, who's
that ?”
The outer door had been flung crash
ing back- there came a rush of feet
down the corridor, a swish of
skirts. . .
“Grace!”
It was Drysdale’s voice and he stood
there like a man struck suddenly to
stone.
And she? I turned a little giddy as
I looked at her—at the shining eyes—at
the quivering, smiling lips. . .
Godfrey had sprung instantly to his
feet.
"Come Lester," he said. In a voice
very gentle, as the Jailer opened the
cell door, “we must catch our train;
we’ve business In New York.”
Perhaps it was only my fancy that
his step was not wholly steady as
he went before me down the corridor.
CHAPTER IV.
rHE STORY OF MONDAY NIGHT
Not until tho regular click-click of
the wheels told me that we were well
jnder way did I open my mind to God
frey; then I spoke with what I deemed
t necessary frankness.
"My dear Godfrey,” I began, “I've
watched you all day, smelling bottles, i
examining scratches, trying to read j
’alnt Ink marks on a blotter, puzzling I
>ver a broken cane, and doing var
ousmther eccentric things from which j
vou seemed to draw conclusions utterly
r.vlslble to me. I’ve heard you assure
roth Drysdale and Miss Croydon that
;he former will bo cleared of suspicion
it tomorrow's inquest, and that the
■eal culprit will be pointed out. You'll
pardon me If I confess to some curi
>sity as to how all this ls to be ac
:om plished.”
“Did you see her faco as she came
hrough that door, Lester?” he asked,
itaring absently at the seat in front of
is. "I tell you, it warmed the heart 1
if even an old reprobate like me. And
o think that we did It,” ho added. "To
hink that we did It.”
"You did tt.” I corrected. “I was In
he chorus today—you had the center
>f the stage.”
"But you don't mind, Lester? I
;ouldn’t help It, you know.”
"Of course you couldn’t—that's
vhere you belong. But now that the
lurtaln’s down, and we’re alone to
rether with plenty of time to talk, I'd
Ike to understand -”
“And you shall—down to the mln
itest detail. Let’s see—this ls the
imoker. Isn't it? Well, suppose we
Ight up—I can think more clearly j
vhen I'm smoking."
"All right; Are away,” I said, as soon
ls the cigars were going.
"Well,” began Godfrey, "as I pointed
iut to you this morning, for good and
lultlclent reasons, I started out In this
nvestlgation with tho assumption of
Premaine’s guilt.”
"Of course." I observed, "you know
t is the duty of every Jury to start out
vith exactly the contrary assump
ion.”
"Certainly I know that; but a detec
lve has to work with some definite
nd in view, or he never gets any
vhere. In other words, a detective,
ifter carefully studying the details of
my crime, must form a theory con
ernlng it, and must work along that i
Ueory. As soon as he discovers any j
act that fails to fit with his theory,
le must modify it or form another; **f
Lnd he must keep on doing this until |
le finds the theory which agrees with
:!1 the facts—not all but one or two, I
>ut with every one. A good many de- I
octives fall Into the mistake of being 1
atisfled with the theory which fits i
cost of the facts—a serious error, for
he right theory must, of course, in
vltably fit them all. That’s the selen
itic method and the only safe one.
Vhen a detective hits upon a theory
vhlch fits all the known facts, he's got
is much right to assume It’s truth as
in astronomer has or a physicist, who I
>uilds up the universe in Just the same i
vay.”
bui mats a uimcuu tning to do,
remarked, "to find a theory that fits
ill the facts.”
"Exceedingly difficult sometimes," j
issented my companion, "because the
acts often appear to be entirely eon
radlctory. Really, facts are never
■untradlctory—truth Is always truth—
he trouble is we can’t always tell
vhat Is fact and what Is Action. The
rnrdest pan of a detective’s work is •
0 sift the wheat from the chaff—to :
jet at tho meaty, essential facts.
"Well, as you know, I started out
vith tho theory of Tremaine's guilt.
More than that, I was morally cer
ain that he was guilty, knowing what
! knew of the man. And Arst of all.
t was evident to me that no criminal
is careful as he Is would run the risk
>f going through that boathouse and
jommlttlng a murder on the pier out
ilde wltn young Graham sleeping on
1 cot a few feet away. I therefore
leduced this bottle. Smell of It."
He uncorked It and held it under
ny nose.
(Continued Next Week.)
Good Business.
George R. Cortelyou, the secretary
if the treasury, was talking at a din
ner about the recent panic.
"There's a story about a well known
railroad man In the panic that is al
most too good,” said Mr. Cortelyou.
"This man Is kindhearted, and he was
leeply moved by a letter that a country
parson wrote him when things were
looking their worst.
"The letter ran like this:
•' ’Dear Sir: As the pastor of -
church my atm has always been Invest
ment and not speculation. Regarding
your railroad as a sound business In
stitution, solid as a rock, In 1904, I pur
chased 400 of Its shares at 106, sinking
my little all In them and a great deal
more. They have now fallen to 55
and X am undone. My congregation I
cannot face as a bankrupt and at my
age—72 years—what am I to do? I
throw myself upon your mercy.’
"Wen,” said Mr. Cortelyou. "the
banker read this letter several times
and each time his pity for the, poor old
parson Increased. Finally calling in his
stenographer, he wrote to the man that,
considering all the painful circum
stances of the case, he would himself
buy back the 400 shures at 106, the price
the parson had paid for them.
"Immediately on receipt of this gen
erous letter the parson wired to his
brokers:
" ’Buy 400 Dash Railways at 55 and
send same round to Dash's president,
who will give you 10G for them.' ”
When Women Vote.
From Illustrated Bits.
A wife had occasion to go out to a
woman's vote meeting, so left a pud
ding In the saucepan for her husband.
When she arrived home she went on
with her washing and inquired how
he.’d got on.
"Very well," said he; "I thoroughly
enjoyed the puddtng."
"Good!” said the wife. "What did
you do with tho doth it was boiled
in?"
"Cloth, my gal?” said hubby, as hi
abstractedly continued reading his pa
per. "Was there a cloth?"
j __ Profit Making Dairy Shorthorns.
Written by J. H. Slight, Genes:* County, Mich.
There has been so much said and
written about the general-purpose cow
that it may seem there is nothing new
or interesting that remains to be saJd.
But there is one pnase of the subject
that has not been much talked about
In the public mess and what I have to
say will lie along that line, namely,
personal experience with dairy Short
horns, says J. H. Slaght in the Michi
gan Farmer.
When I commenced breeding Short
horns 1 knew nothing of fashionable or
unfashionable breeding and almost as
little about the various grades of that
breed, but my neighbor was selling that
class of stock for high prices. Why
should I not do the same? Being a
man of limited means and limited time
to give to such things, the first pur
chase was a solitary heifer which
proved to be a good milker and breeder.
As the number increased and it became
necessary to procure sires, the question
arose, what lino of breeding is It best
to pursue? All great breeders seem to
have bred for a certain type of form
and quality, adhering strictly to the
plan until they had established a herd
and a type that fitted their ideal.
Would it be wise to trim one’s sails to
the winds and breed the class of stock
that, for the time being, would bring
the most money, or breed for a definite
type and stick to it?
The latter course was decided upon
and has been adhered to for many
years. The class selected was the gen
eral purpose cow, not only because it
was thought such an animal was best
suited and most profitable for the farm
er of moderate means, but to demon
strate that there is such an animal and
that she is a very desirable piece of
property.
The form and quality sought was an
animal having a level back, possessing
medium size, neither course and long
nor undersized, with rather long, small,
clean head and muzzle, long, slender
neck, broad deep chest, ribs weli
sprung and large heart, lung and food
capacity: broad, square hips and large
udder, not flesh. In short, a good ap
pearing cow that would manufacture
a large amount of food into good rich
milk during lactation and turn her feed
into flesh of good quality when dry.
In pursuance of this plan a Bay
county herd was visited and the fa
mous Moss Rose 4th, a state fair pre
mium taker, as the best milk and but
ter cow in the state, was found to be
of the right style and type for the
purpose. A bull from her was secured
and placed at the head of the herd.
This bull, Rose Knight, 117154, proved
to be just the animal desired. His get
at 1, 2 or 3 years, if not giving milk,
were ready for beef at any time with
out grain. One winter when hay was
scarce he was kept through on straw
and near spring a shipper sought to
buy him to ship for beef. Not every
one of his heifer calves made good
dairy cows but most of them did. He
had a wonderful power of transmit
ting his mother’s dairy quality to his
get. Since then several bulls have
been procured, ail being chosen for
their beef and dairy quality. The re
sult is a herd of cows that are near
the ideal, though there is still much
room for improvement. One objection
with some might be that they are
never fat while giving milk, and that
is nearly all the time. Feed or pasture
them as you may, the feed goes to milk,
not to flesh. During the few weeks
they are dry they take on flesh rapidly
if the feed is good. But no effort is
made to get ihem in high condition.
With this treatment there hao been but
one case of milk fever in the herd dur
ing the twenty-three years they have
been kept, and this was brought on by
feeding grain too soon after calving.
A few years ago one of these cows
dropped a grad“ calf. Not desiring to
raise it, It was thought best to let it
suck the cow and sell it for Christmas
beef. Although the calf was a large.
nearly teiiow, it was six weeks before
he would take all the milk. At about
six months he weighed 700 pounds,
with but little grain towards the last.
Since then ttiis cow has sucked two
calves each summer and raised them
well without grain. During the past
season three of these cows have fur
nished milk for two calves each and all
but. one of the calves have grown fine
ly. The three cows thus set free for
milking purposes would either of them
have furnished milk to grow two calves
successfully. Why such cows are pre
ferred by the writer to the pure beef
*-------—---1
Benefits of Improving Cattle *£ j
At the recent meeting of the Texas
Cattle Raisers’ association Joseph F.
Green of Gregory, Tex., discussing
benefits to be derived from the im
provement of cattle, said:
"Beef trusts will come and go, rail
road rates will be high and reduced
to a minimum, but the benefits to be
derived from the Improvement of cat
tle affect the breeder, for without well
bred cattle he is a failure. It affects
the feeder, lor without well-bred cat
tle he Is doomed to financial ruin; it
uffeets the farmer, for It makes a mar
ket for his forage, that otherwise would
be worthless; it affects the banker, be
cause cattle that are not Improved will
neither pay him principal nor interest;
It affects the railroad by adding ton
nage for it to haul; it affects the pack
er, for without Improved cattle he
could not compete for trade in foreign
markets: it affects the manufacturer
by making a home market for his
product, and it affects the consumer
by giving him meat that is young, ten
der and easy lo digest.
"Professor Willet M. Hays, our re
cently appointed ussistant secretary of
agriculture, has made the following
report: ‘The ten leading Held crops in
the United States annually yield near
ly J2,000,000,000 worth of plant prod
ucts by means of live stock and by
manufacturing processes; the value of
these is so increased before they are
consumed that it is very nearly dou
bled.’
"uur scientific institutions and
breeders have also demonstrated that
the animals used to convert large
quantities of these crops Into concen
trated forms of greater worth may also
be so improved by breeding ns to se
cure better results front foods that
they eat.
"The importance of breeding our cat
tle is becoming greater each year.
South America. Canada and Australia
are fast becoming large factors in our
foreign trade, and there is but one way
for us to meet this competition—name
ly, by the improvement of our cattle.
"Cattle are Improved by three differ
ent methods—by handling, by feeding
and by breeding.
“According lo the twelfth census we
have In the United Slates 700.000 pure
bred cattle of nil breeds among a total
of 68,000,000, which is just a little more
than 1 per cent. It also has been esti
mated that 20 per cent, of our cattle
are grades, having halt or more of the
improved blood in their veins: this
leaves a tremendous percentage ol
scrub—more than two-thirds of all the
cattle In the United States.
"I wish that every cow in the state
and every bull were of some registered
breed and that they justified their reg
istration.
“The great trouble with a grade bull
is that you never know of what the
unknown part of his breeding consists;
it may be a Jersey, Holstein or from
the mountains of Arkansas, and he
will often breed back to some of these
inferior beef producing crosses.
“Range men have been slow to
breed up their cattle because they
could raise an animal with such little
cost, and they were so far from that
market that instead of selling an in
ferior calf for veal they would allow It
to remain in the breeding herd.
“In England the farmers in each
community, often taking In an entire
county, breed one kind of cattle, and
while many of their cattle are not reg
istered, yet their opportunities are so
great for selecting sires from their
neighbors that it has enabled them to
lead the world in the environment of
cattle breeding.
"There are members of this associa
tion—some of them may be sitting be
fore me—yes, there are many feeders
scattered all over the United States
that have lost money, some of them
their entire fortunes, that had taken
many years of hard labor and toll to
accumulate, by feeding cattle that are
not properly bred.
“The American feeder can buy his
feed far cheaper than In any other
country In the world, yet on the Brit
ish Isles farmers buy their cottonseed
I meal of us, pay the freight both by
' land and sea, and make money, while
! we so often lose simply because our
cattle are not well-bred."
And Why Not?
It Is said that In Norway a bucket of wa
ter Is always placed within reach of a
* horse when he is taking his allowance of
i hay. “It Is interesting,” says the writer
1 of the Incident, “to see with what a relish
I they take a stp out of ono and a mouth
ful out of the other alternately, sometimes
only moistening their mouths as any ra
tional being would do while eating a din
ner of sucli dry food. A broken-winded
horse is scarcely ever seen in Norway,
and the question is whether this mode of
feeding has not a beneficial efTect In pre
serving the animal's respiratory organs,'*
—Woman's Farm Journal.
breed Is that the beef tows are not
noted for milk and often do not give
enough to grow one calf successfully,
two cows sometimes having to be kept
to raise one calf. There are doubtless
many exceptions, but when the excep
tions are marked they are general pur
pose cows. To illustrate the difference
in real value between the beef and
dairy Shorthorns permit me to quote
from the Special Report on Diseases
of Cattle and Cattle Feeding, issued by
the United States department of agri
culture In 1892. The report states that
it requires about seventeen pounds of
digestible nutrients to sustain the life
of an ox (or cow) each day so that
he will neither lose nor gain in weight.
The ox Is supposed to weigh 1,000
pounds and to be kept perfectly com
fortable as to temperature and envir
onment and to do no work, or, if a cow,
to give no milk or to be otherwise wor
ried or exercised. As it requires the
same amount of feed to sustain the
life and well being of a poor or inferior
dairy cow as it does a good one and
as the good one does twice or three
times the work that the inferior one Is
capable of doing in supplying milk for
the dairy or for raising calves, and is
just as valuable for making beef when
not giving milk, it is not difficult to see
that a large portion of the food that
goes to sustain the animal economy,
or the iife of two or three Inferior
milkers to do what one good cow can
do, is lost to the feeder, to say noth
ing about the care they require or the
room they occupy. Fvery dairyman
understands this, and if he has a cow,
nom matter how attractive in appear
ance she may be, if she does not return
a dollar's worth of milk for a dollar's
worth of feed she soon is disposed of
and finds her way to the shambles.
Purely beef cattle have the merit of
making beef of fine quality, as well as
making it rapidly and economically,
and are thus profitable to the ranch
man or any one whose only object la
to raise beef; but to the general farm
er the dairy Shorthorn has the double
advantage of making equally as good
a quality of beef, just as rapidly and
quite as economically, and of being
more than double the value if desired
for dairy purposes.
After more than twenty years exper
ience in raising a milking strain of
Shorthorn cattle the writer would con
tinue to try to improve in the same
line, believing that while he does not
receive as high prices for the stock
he sells as the breeders of the beef
breeds do, they are more profitable to
him while thev remain on the farm.
When tne writer first heard the late
William Ball, of Hamburg, talk cattle,
he was a vigorous advocate of the
single purpose cattle, but later, aft
er more experience and observation,
in an address before a farmers'
Institute, he as earnestly ad
vocated the dual-purpose stock and ex
pressed himself as of the opinion that
of all the breeds the Shorthorns were
best adapted to that purpose.
Mr. William Gafna, the former owner
of the famous Moss Rose 4th, clearly
indicated his preference for the dairy
Shorthorns when, after his public sale
of stock a few years ago. I was in
formed, he sold her at a good price and
later bought her back at a considerable
advance over the sale price, and let
the beef cattle go.
It will require many years of care
ful, painstaking selection and breeding
to develop the ideal general-purpose
cow so that she will be satisfactory
in all points and have those character
istics so fixed that they will be trans
mitted from sire and da*n with almost
unerring certainty from generation to
generation.
May we not hope that some young
American, with the persistency and
good sense of a Bates, a Booth, or a
Cruickshank, may yet take this matter
up and carry it to a successful issue
and thus become a benefactor of the
race.
i me upuiun mai,
with proper selection and breeding the
Shorthorns may be made to excel the
Jerseys in the amount of milk given, to
at least equal to them in the amount
of butter produced and to far excel
them in the amount and quality of beef
products, though the quality of milk
and butter produced by the Jersey may
never me excelled. It requires a per
sistent determination, almost amount
ing to stubbornness, to break over the
rule and breed the higher priced,
though less intrinsically valuable beef
cattle.
Only a Fence Between.
According to the Standard, a
stranger addressed the farmer's boy
across the fence:
"Young man, your corn looks kind
o' yellow.”
"Yes, that's the kind we planted."
"Don't look as though you would get
more than half a crop.”
“We don’t expect to. The landlord
gets the other half.”
Then, after a short time, the man
said: “Boy, there isn’t much difference
between you and a fool.”
“Nope,” replied the boy, “only the
fence."
“The New York Idea.”
The time had come for them to part
temporarily.
“Are you superstitious, love?" In
quired the great millionaire.
“Superstitious? Why do you askV
said the beautiful young actress.
“I dare not tell you,” said he, “till
you have answered my question.”
“Well, then: no,” she said thought
fully. “X don't believe I am supersti
tious in the least.”
"Then I don't mind admitting,” ha
chuckled, “that you will be my 13th
wife.”
So saying he stepped aboard the Di
vorce Special, as the sumptuous new
Dakota express has recently been
dubbed.
I
There are plenty of wise men—at the
end of the rainbow—which is always In
the next county.
LICE IN POULTRY
Borax Spray a Safe Preventive—
Simple, Cheap, Harmless
to Fowls.
“20 Mule Team’’ Borax was a good
thing to rid poultry of lice. I tad used
so much inflammable Lice killers that
my Poultry Houses were regular fire
traps. I gave my S. C. W. Leghorn
house a good spraying just two months
ago. Since I have caught several tens
and I found no lice. I am rid of lies
and shall continue to use. “20 Mule
Team” Borax as a spray, also .as a
wash.
(Signed) MRS. B. R. BUFFHAM,
Roswell. New Mexlen.
PIT.ES CURED IK « TO 14 DAV9.
PAZO OINTMENT Is guaranteed to cure any
case of Itching. Blind, Bleeding or Protrud
ing Piles in 6 to 14 days or money refunded.
60c.
WHY PARTRIDGE3 ARE SCARCE
The Migratory Instinct That Possessea
the Birds Every 25 or 30 Years.
Winsted Correspondence Springfield Re
publican.
The following opinion of T. S. Skil
ton, a learned nimrod residing here,
ns to why partridges have been scarce
the last season ought to interest hunt
ers in New York, Massachusetts ;urd
Connecticut, where at present there Is
much agitation in favor of prohibiting
the talcing of the bird for a few years.
“Every 25 or 30 years partridges seem
to become possessed of a sort of migra
tory Instinct or craze.” be says, “and
for no apparent reason whatever they
appear, during the summer and fall,
to travel continually from place to
place and from cover to cover, and so
far as my observation goes they do not
get settled or established in any par
ticular locality till late In December.
“This is one of their migratory years.
This freak in the partridge nature has
never been fully explained.' and I am
unable to advance any tenable theory
explaining the fact excepting possibly
the recurrence of ancestral migratory
Instinct; at any rate it is not for want
of food or better location. Up to ths
middle of December in 1880 Winsted
sportsmen were getting no more than
one or two partridges a day, and often
none at all. In fact there were very
many less birds In the covers that
year than there have been this, yet the
last two weeks of December of that
year found partridges in their usual
pbundance and many good bags were
made. They will come back now as
before, only I doubt if they are as
plenty the first of January next as they
were the first of last January, as the
hatching season last spring was cold
and wet and few young birds wen
raised."
JUBS’ FOOD.
They Thrive on Grape Kate.
Healthy babies don’t cry and the
well-nourished baby that is fed on
Grape-Nuts is never a crying baby.
Many babies who cannot take any oth
er food relish the perfect food, Grup»
Nuts, and get well.
“My little baby was given np by
three doctors who said that the con
densed milk on which I had fed het
had ruined the child's stomach. Ont
of the doctors told me the only thtni
to do would be to try Grape-Nuts, so ]
got some and prepared it as followsi
I soaked 1% tablespoonfuls In one pin)
of cold water for half an hour, then l
strained oft the liquid and mixed 13
teaspoonfuls of this strained Grape
Nuts Juice with six teaspoonfuls of riel
milk, put in a pinch of salt and a llttli
sugar, wanned it and gave it to baby
every two hours.
“In this simple, easy way I s*ve4
baby's life und have built her up to s
strong, healthy child, rosy and laugh
ing. The food must certainly be per
feet to have such a' wonderful effect
as this. I can truthfully say I tb!n»
it is the l>est food In the world to rais*
delicate babies on and is also a dell
cious healthful food for growu-ups, ai
we have discovered in our family."
Grape-Nuts is equally valuable to th»
strong, healthy man or woman. I|
stands for the true theory of health
“There's a Ite.ison." Head "The U.eni
to Wellvt'le," iu pkgs.
