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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (June 7, 1928)
MERRY SQUARE A NEIGHBOURLY NOVEL t.y ORACH d. RICHMOND 1 "*Anyhow,” Chase went on BbaarHtfully, “though 1 can’t tell you how I dreaded going to t!ut place, w'ith my shaky »ct w?, I'm glad I went. I hope I was of use to that pathetic I little old wife. I don’t know •bout that But—b»it she—she •as of marvellous use to me. I lamer--never in my life saw' Anything like her fortitude. ’Why, after it was over, she — 1 earn* to the door with me, and thanked me for coming! And His voice broke. Mackay bad a moment of fear that the •motional strain of a scene like that had been too much for the man who had his own heavy troubles to bear. But his next *trr/ng impression was that the «f little old Mrs. Cutler’s •cserago had really been, as Cbase had said, to inspire his amt. So Maekav said, in the quiet, laarw tone of confidence which h tb* best support for weak ness in another, “1 can imag ine. Isn’t she the greatest little old soldier you ever Anew? She’s been shouldering ber crutch and marching to the •mate for years, one knows by tfec look of her. I don’t think •bell march much longer, now' a * « i • ikt vto mmp i* gunr, mn siiir 11 W game to the end. I’m glad yon were with her, to see her end help her through. There’s* nobody like you, Doctor Chase, k«i know how to say the right, thing. I’ve heard you do it tn*ny times, and I know.” fba*c turned to look at him. •*Y«wi never saw me in a place like that. The pulpit’s one place. A little room like that i* 9flute another. I—Maekay— ■mchew I didn’t feel very big In that little room.” mtl know.” And now (Ior dan Maekay felt a definite penwmal liking for this mu.t that fee oadn’t quite had be fore. This was the reul man pecking, he was sure. fiwt now the speaking was ever. Suddenly Chase felt bnmelf very weak and sick, •cd leaned heavily on Mac ay * steel-strong arm. The younger man wondered for an hnctant if he oughtn’t to leave b;m and run to the house for a car with which to bring him kbe few remaiiiiiig rods. Hut C^awr shook his head atnl ■sored slowly on. — just—■nerves,” he brra?bed. “] can make it.” Sc they made it, and came tr the house. They had also cense a little way on that an cient road toward friendship ■nade by the mutual under ■taninr of each other’s feeling iin a great, hour. (Prom Josephine Jenney’s Note-Bookk) Dream evening, followed by fcour or two of nightmare ttnxi «tv. All serene this morning. The d ream was of old dav s. Drought, on by flying drive in to Stadium, in Dallas Hunt’s myadster, with Cordon Maekay snaking the third, in el* .ne quarters, Could shut my eyes and imagine myself tucked in between Julian and Blair liey i*or, dashing for almost any srhere that occurred to us. Vm*| in my face, low voices in any ewrx, a drift of eigaret smoke, tights, lights, lights — then a tunnel of darkness tin ker trees—a queer sense of Vapp ness — expectancy — ncrognition of others’ similar reactions-— TV? » music. — gorgeous —• irfore.is — heart-breaking — Suspended between earth and •i. ! Afterwards the funny trip Wm<-, coming hack to earth until a bounce. Crowds, noise, reek, heal, on the train. Then qenct, coolness, wetness, gales, «tipftery roads, utud<ly lulls— Cherry Kqtinrc— Pnrnlly the dash off through th* fields looking for our pn Bradley Sfu rgis at my UaraHo of \iumilv ftsm the New York Tlm*m ks* KftUm themselves apart and dm the world as dumb bniM, asm have sometimes seemed more fcrwtai than the animals they look Wnwn'i on Hour mu intelltcnice rnau Mr '.rely clam* tout only ioo of he ta has been turned to uiiwtsrtliv pi'.yM t- Whether animal* ate ey m able to recognise man’s tnju.u - •hen »t noun we ranMt toe aui" there t* plenty of evt !•«*• Of niton a cruel master JMhr r. (rniisi beyond the oa• pai iT'ii ,«f att tntaii.il to «p|irev'i»i» aar*rViHt hot II ta i)n’>y**. tt»e tab awil feetlni umiltdw by ¥*ro* <s / heels, trying to make most of excitement. Might as well have been a midge humming in my ears. Frightfully anxious 3< st we find tragedy. Return to house, to find the pale in valid resting, a strange look on his face as of one who lias been seeing something ho hasn’t seen before. Whispered that, to Mr. Hark ay, who whispered backk: “He has,” And told me no more. Think, whatever it was, Gordon Mack ay must have seen it, too. XIII. Adelaide Sturgis had made quite sure that there was no body in the house except her* self. Even Norah O’Grady had left her kitchen shining and fragrant, and had run over home to pick some blackber ries from her own small gar den for the Chases’ table. Sal ly had lukon her husband for a long drive. Jo had gone out with Hob; Mary bad the other children well away from the house. Every plan of Adelaide’s for the day had fallen through. She had expected to motor into town with a man she knew for dinner and the theater, but at noon he had telephoned, ex plaining why lie must ilelault. Dallas Hunt had been away all the week. Therefore Adelaide was feeling more than ordin arily down on her luck. And always, at the bottom of her disappointments, was the men tal image of do .Tenney. Who ever else was unhappy, do seemed full of tin* zest of life. And not for any special reason that could be discerned. Suddenly there had come to Adelaide the desire to go into Jo’s room, in her absence, and see if she could discover any secret of her attraction for the various people who were con stantly showing bow much they wanted to be with her. There must be some reason, some recipe, some formula, hidden there. Girls’ rooms were revealing, Adelaide well understood that. She herself would have admitted that her own, at this very moment., looked precisely as if it were hers, and no other’s. The old I'ashoneid bureau top was a jars, boxes and bottles, all of jars, boxes and botles, all of them in some way contributing to her toilette. One drawer was partly open, and scarfs of all lines and fabrics had been stuffed therein, so that they overflowed. Heavy exotic scents hung about tlie room. A silken garment of bright green with ostrich bands bad been thrown carelessly over the foot of the bed. The bed itself was piled with small pillows of lace over green silk -Adelaide af fected green as her color, to match her eyes. An artist had once told her tluit green eyes were the most beautiful of all, especially when the hair was russet—-which was what lie called hers. She had kept it more sin prisinglv russet Jwer since that hour, hut means of aids known to beauty special ists. Leaving this room of hers on tiptoe, she stole down the hall to the turn at the back, beyond which she knew Jo’s room must he. Even though she was sure that the house was empty, she advanced with caution, making no sound. Past one door after another, she fin ally stood at that of the one which she knew must be Jo’s, because of its exquisite order. Nobody else in the house, not even Sally herself, would leave a room so absolutely devoid of things out of place as that. Even the bureau drawers were every one closed tight. There wasn't, must to be seen at first glance. The bu reau top held a few simple and inexpensive articles lying in even rows, .V dozen books stood between plain hook ends ■ femur James H. Lrubu in hi* ilta cujs.ion of morality among the ani mals in the June Harper *. Whatever one's definition of mo rality. a good case i* made out toi iU existence in animals Darwin found every conceivable emotion. bo<h good and bad expressed by beasts Professor Letiba limits his paper to a romoderation of lour rc-tfor aspects of morality as dts triaged b\ man and hu inferiors The first of iliaae la the common claim of both to personal property Ittrdx defend nut only tlwlr pe*t but I the teeth 4 ground surrounding It Ragles rule a considerable area trum which intruders are excluded | Many apes have playthings which on the'T.iall stand beside bed. Crossing tlie room Ade laide scanned these, end drew a deep, derisive breath, though it was a surprised breath as well, “l’osing!” she said to I herself. “A country school ! teacher!” There was nothing else to he noted. But the closed drawers, the closed door which I presumably opened into a clothespress, stimulated her curiosity. She listened again; not a sound stirred the air, except the litle summer outdoor noises which came faintly in at the open window. She cautiously opened the top bureau drawer. The usual things- and a photo graph, and a bundle of letters. She took up the photograph—• first noting carefully exactly how it had lain in the drawer. It was by one of the. best pho» tographers in New York, and it was of a young man so exceed ingly good to look at, that Ade laide stared and stared again. “All, ha, my dear so you’re more of an old hand at it than I thought you jvere!” she said to herself. “I might have known it, though. There’s cer tainly something queer about you, the way you play your cards. That demureness of yours covers trickiness—and I’ve got to find out what it's about.” She replaced the photograph, fingered the package of letters longingly, but reflected that if she were suddenly surprised ii ml !.<><! 4 n inn l-n ik /< ) i ■ 111 r Mn treat it would be dangerous to have letters to dispose of. She stood looking longingly at the door of the elothespress. .Tust why she was temped to explore what she already knew must be Jo Jeniiey’s slender stock of apparel could hardly be ex plained. And yet she found it in possible to resist this desire. Therefore, yielding to it, she opened the door. Slender the stock proved to be indeed: the straight dresses of Idues and whites and tans which Jo wore daily, one plain tailored suit of dark blue cloth, two simple hats upon the shelf, several pairs of well-kept shoes upon trees on the floor below. Where was the thin blue frock which Jo so often wore for din ner, and the sight of which al ways roused Adelaide's curios ity? This she felt she must see. Yes, here it was, behind the suit, and covered with a little flowered muslin protector. Cer tainly, Jo's ways Were of the daintiest with all her posses sions, the interloper had to concede. Adelaide examined the dress. Heautiful material, artful lines, a peculiar feel and faint fra grance about it which recalled other scenes far removed from the country village. Hurriedly she looked at the fine silk in ner lining, and discovered the label of a famous Paris dress maker. She forgot entirely where she was and the danger of dis eovery while she stood survey ing this tell-tale mark. Then she laughed to herself. “Idiot I am! Of course she bought it at one of those cheap shops where they sell second-hand clothes, and had it cleaned. She’s more knowing than 1 thought her. . . . How I hate that dress! I’d like to—burn it up!” A quick step sounded in the passage outside. Adelaide flung the dress back upon its hook, the outer covering all disarranged, panic upon her. Of course she was caught, fool that she had been. Sho stood waiting to be discovered, she hadn’t a chance of escape. How on earth Hail she been so care less as to forget to listen? She hat! gained nothing and lost much. How should she ex plain. where there was no ex planation f One preposterous excuse leaped into her mind — she would use it, it was better than nothing. She came out of the clothes press as .lo ran into the room, an eager do, flushed with exer cise and a touch of sunburn, n gay whistle on her lip*. At sight of Adelaide she stopped I they will permit their fellows t« I handle, but which must be re turned Often a monkey will take a favorite tov to be wit's him every night. In defending their proper ty. whether home, mate, food or toya. animals "do not cautiously measure the "strength of their an tagonist* before giving battle" Thev rush In Just like a man who know* ne has the right on hia ude Righteous indignation" la not a bad term to deaertbe their attitude It U harder to find a concise e*. preaslon for the behavior of a do mestic animal when scolded b\ his | master If a dog has never been •truck or punished In any way. he | will neverth'leu Upp and cower short. v. ** “You'll excuse me,” *flid Adelaide, with more hauteur than was convincing in one found in so compromising a situation. “I smelled smoke and have been looking every where back bore, since it didn’t seem to come from the front of the house.” A smell of smoke, and not a fire alight in the house! But Jo accepted the explanation with a nod. “Thank you,” she said, with a slight lift pf the eyebrows, for at the moment the hanger which held the blue frock from Paris slipped to the floor behind Adelaide. The in vader turned involuntarily. “Afraid 1 disturbed some thing.” she said, as she went toward the outer door of the room. “I thought there might be a hot chimney back there.” Then she disappeared, hav ing had no further response from t he owner of the room. To Jo there seemed to he nothing to say. .She went to the clothes press and picked up the frock and replaced it upon its hang er It was impossible not to note that the cover of flowered muslin was not disposed in its usual way upon the dress, and that a mere slipping to the floor could hardly have made this difference. “Now why,” she said to her self, “with a dozen frocks to my one, should you care?” And then she thought she 1. nAiif 11 <i o I fniit I i / f cinn \r I en admiringly ot' that dress in Adelaide’s presence. “Oh, how little, little, you arc!” she breathed. (From Josephine Jenney’s Note-Book) Mrs. Chase gave me a day’s leave of absence. Back from seeing Julian. Cannot put one word on paper of hour not to be forgotten. Just want to record belief clung to through everything that God is there—somewhere —even as here. But—his face—his eyes This is a dear spot to come back to, after a day on trains and in taxicabs. The garden is so lovely just now. . . . Gar dens—trees—sky—I’d better stop writing till I’m not so tense. XIV “Mrs. Chase! You see 1 couldn’t resist stopping. It’s good to sec you again! And what do you hear from your traveller husband T” Sally Chase looked amazedly into the frankly admiring eyes of Mr. Sage Pierpont, who had crossed her lawn without her being aware of the fact. Un der the big beech she had been reading aloud to Schuyler, who lay stretched in a deck chair, his back to the street. She had thought him almost asleep, but she was instantly aware, as the deep and resonant voice of Mr. Pierpont accosted her, that Schuyler stirred and listened, • x* n . •_ ill lun luini luu.'uui'ig. “Mr. Pierpont! I really thought you had forgotten to keep your promise,” Sally said, as she gave him her hand, noting the big ear which stood outside her gate, empty except for the chauffeur. “Won’t you drive in, and stay? You must stay. And is it possible you don't know my husband is here?” “Here!” “Schuyler,” she turned and spoke to him. He rose out of tlie deck chair, and she saw him raise his hand to the black spectacles which covered his eyes, as it' he had the impulse to remove them. But he did not do so—he had been often warned that he must not ex pose those eyes to the bright sunlight, and never had there been brighter sunlight than that of tliis August Sunday morning. He came slowly for ward. and the massive, com manding figure of Pierpont, president of the hoard of trus tees of the church which Schuyler served, advanced to meet him. Shocked astonish ment was written upon the face of the elder man. (To 1!» OONTIMKIM w hrn scolded. He will appear to be ashamed It he is caught In dtsobe dl* nee. >1* Is r.ot so much terrified at the physical pain of punishment as troubled perhaps hy conscience! Ihe third trait ts helpfulness. Ani mals are devoted to each other In making their homes, feeding the young and caring for an Injured mats or relative. Monkeys, rspe rtelly the females, will glee their own food to (When that are 111 nr hurt, even k! they are not related They also show great sympathy and affection stroking and petting each othe., • * | OF INTEREST TO FARMERS | I — FATHER-SON PARTNERSHIPS One thing that is gradually com ing, is the ‘‘father and son" farm idpa. It is no uncommon thing in the middle west to find a son. or sons, must be consulted if a sales man or a stock buyer is trying to put a proposition before the owner of a farm. ‘‘I have figured it out," said a ma chinery salesman who travels the middle west selling farm imple ments. "that these firms are the di rect outcome of the boys’ clubs that have been formed. A boy as a small shaver gets interested in pick ing out the best ear of com for the home exhibit; he wins a prize; he becomes interested from this mo ment in better farming. The next year he tends a calf most carefully and he finds he is the possessor of another prize; his interest is whetted and he goes into the game. When he has reached t're age of 14 or 15 he may have $200 back of him. He studies investment and he decides to keep on making stock or chickens or seed-corn or per haps popcorn increase his savings and pay him a feal dividend on the work he can put back of his investment. "Now the really wise farm father at this stage of the game, 1 find, often takes the boy into a farm partnership. He knows that the co-operation of hi3 boy or boys, as the case may be. means the ultimate success cf his farm ven ture, and he asks their advice; has them in on any consultation about farm improvement; studies with them the possible output of every foot of the acreage; and makes them realize the overhead and the results of the farm game. "Often I have addressed the own er of the farm with a view of sell ing him some needed piece of ma chinery, and he Immediately tells me h° will call in his son to talk V4 )U wpuoi\,i»yu nun UO. 1 UC other day I had reason to believe that I could sell a plow to a cer tain party. I called on a rainy day, for that is the day a farm sales man can often do the best busi ness, and I had no sooner started to talk plow than this fanner stepped to the door, called his 18 year-old son in and explained to me that he had a small share in the farm, and he, too, had studied their needs in plows. "I expected to have a boy come in and listen to what I was saying to his father, have him look to his father for decisions, etc.; but no sooner had I commenced to talk plows than this boy began to ques tion me as to the relative merits of the ‘two-way’ plows, the tractor plows, the gang plow, etc., until I found that he had made a study of plows that was most comprehensive. “ ‘You see,’ he explained, ‘we (I noted that ‘we’) must buy the very best plow needed for our work. I have studied plow catalogs for three months and now, if what you can prove to me agrees with what I have figured out, we may be able Jo make a deal.” “I was impressed with this boy’s knowledge, and you may be sure I wanted to sell him the very plow that would be best for his use. In talking with the father after the sale had been made and the boy had gone back to his work, he said: i ‘Yes, we farmers are beginning to 1 realize that every boy we can keep on the farm is the greatest asset we can have, and the one way to keep ’em Ls to make a part of the farm theirs. All the members of our family are part owners of our plant here; girls and their mother have the chickens and ducks and such like, and the boys have some acreage, some stock and are joint owners in the car.’ ” You would, if you had reason to make door-to-door calls on farmers, be convinced that this movement is growing steadily, and when the county fairs or the state exhibits are on, you will see more and more boys taking (heir own stock or their own crops of seed-grain for display.. And you will find that in many cases the boy’s real bank account will show a larger balance than his father’s will at many times of the ! year. — --»♦ MAKING OF NEW PLANTS Where do we get the new plants fhat are offered by dealers each year? How is the interminable pro cession of novelties kept up? The making of new plants is one of the most fascinating develop ments of modern science for it is to scientific plant breeding that we j owe most of them. Formerly the I chief source of supply rested on i plant explorers scouring remote countries of the world and sending back new species of plant like that they destroyed. As the surface of the earth becomes more carefully explored, this source for new gar den material diminishes. Of late years the interior of China and Thibet have yielded the greatest quantities of new plants. Of the plants listed in commercial cata- j logues, the primroses have, perhaps, shown the greatest number of addi tions. Specialists list 100 or so spe cies and varieties, a large portion of them brought into cultivation within the last I’O years. New varieties occasionally appear in plantations so distinct as to war , rant being regarded as distinct spe ' cies. These are known as mutants, a term applied by the Belgian scien tist, Prof. Hugo DeVris. who de vised the famous mutations theory to account for the appearance of new species of plants. There are continual slight variations in plants and by cultivating these sltght vari ations through several generations new types are often secured. The j Shirley poppy owed Its origin to a common red poppy .showing a faint line of white on the petals. Seed j of this poppy was saved and sown through several generations, sav- J ing only those which showed in creasing white until now we have this race of pale-colored poppies, i KEEI* FOWLS rttlttt I 1 A hundred pound gain In weight * on a couple of hundred broilers as the result of feed going to make bone and feed instead of being wasted maintaining worms, will more than pay lor the time it takes to move the brooder house a hun dred feet or so from the old runs. It'S by far cheaper to control worms by getting the chicks away from in fested ground than to try to dope the chicks for worms, • • P \KTfCLT.AHI. V » VKM MONK There is no substitute tor work, I but systematic planning will mske 1 the work easier 1 This process is known as selection. Professor DeVries declared that mutants were the result of discon tinuous variation, the change coin ing at once and inexplicably. Some of our bcm new varieties originate in this way, the dahlia-flowered zinnia being an example, according to some experts. The zinnia with curled petals appeared alone among a bed of thousands and was segre gated and found to breed true. The discovery of Mendel’s law of heredity in 1865, which was not de veloped' and put into practical ap plication until some years later, has placed plant breeding on a scientific basis so that a breeder may estimate with reasonable cer tainty the result of crosses that he makes, knowing from Mendel’s law the proportion of plants he will get from a cross which will resemble each parent and those which will show a mingling of the character istics of both parents. When a desirable crass has been secured the next step is to •■true it tip"—that is, to inbreed it until all or most all of its seedings lepeat the desired qualities. This is called line breeding. Selection is a part of this process, that is taking only seedings of the best form and color or possessing the characteristics for which the breeder seeks, and de stroying all others. This work takes a number of years, in many cases, but when the work is completed wo have a new race of plants lor our gardens. Only plants closely related will cross successfully. When they are remotely they are known as wide crosses and seedings are likely to produce monstrous forms or, if de sirable, to prove sterile, that is, un able to form or produce seed. Breed ing progress, therefore, stops. Such plants are known as "mules” from klltu outuiui ilj iw liiv. uuun-i'iiv mal, which cannot reproduce itself by mating with its kind. This is common among the pinks, the old Dianthus Napoleon III being a mule pink. It can be propagated only by cuttings. But by far the greatest number of new varieties of our new plants and new strains of plants are tho result of scientific hybridization. -M-- ■■■-» ENGINEERS AID FARMERS Most people do not realize the contributions engineers have already made to agriculture either directly or indirectly. Few have given care ful consideration to the importance and value of more intensive work in the application of engineering to the various agricultural activi ties. Within the last 75 years, those contributions have brought about a greater advancement m agricul ture than had been recorded in the entire history of the world up to that time. It was not until about 1850 that improved and modern machinery began to appear. Now one American farmer produces more than five times as much wheat as he did in 1850. If America produced at the same rate now as in 1850 it would require about 60.000.000 more people than there are in the entire nation to produce last year’s wheat crop. In 1800 approximately 97 per cent, of the entire population of this na tion were engaged in agriculture. This percentage had changed very little up to 1850. at which time about 90 per cent, were engaged in agricul ture. Now approximately 25 per cent, are engaged in agriculture and have no difficulty in producing a surplus of food. Within certain reasonable limits, the proper application of power will probably work out as advantageously on farms as it has in factories. At least there are many indications pointing that way. Surveys on a cost accounting basis have been made in practically all states of the union. These surveys show that different farmers in the corn belt vary from four to 40 hours of labor required to produce an acre of corn, and that the actual grow ing cost per bushel varies from 35 cents to $1.50; with wheat, the cost runs from $3 to $7 per bushel; with pork from 5 cents to 20 cents per pound, and with butter from 20 to H Ft oente Any profit is the result of the salo price less the cost of production. There are, therefore, two methods of increasing profits. One is to increase the sale price without increasing the cost, and the other is to decrease the cost without increasing the sale price. Obviously, farmers should do everything within their power to take advantage of both methods. Here is where the engineer must step in. If agriculture in the very nature of things is and always will be so individualistic that farm or ganizations cannot establish and op erate large experimental laboratories, as do the big industries, and if tha profits to be reaped by private busi ness are not sufficient to warrant the expenditure of large sums of money for these purposes, it is per fectly proper for the government to operate such experiment stations. It seems not only proper but necessary. This it is doing now in a small way, but work in agricultural engineer.ng in the United States department of agriculture and in our agricultural colleges has been started but a few years, and is still in its iniancy. PROLONG MOWER'S LIFE Can you name a piece of farm machinery that gets more abuso than the mowing-machine? Its av erage life is 500 acres, but manufac turers say it will, with proper care, cut 1.500 acres. Dull or worn knives, guards out of line and off renter— these make the mower run hard, cause side draft and no end of trou ble Surprising how cheaply the cut ting parts of the neglected mower ran be replaced- a^k your farm ma chinery dealer about it. The cost of repairs will be returned to you in the saving in time and honieflesh. ♦ • INC REASE SPIT) ACREAGE Wherever a cornfield adjoins a pasture, cows are i reach through or be unnecessarily hard on the fence. Take away the temp tation by planting late potatoes tl the edge of the com. They do well, provided they receive one or two hoeings b-sldes the cultivation with the corn. There is another advant age more room is allowed for turn ing when cultivating the com Po tatoes do not neem to be Injured so badly m corn by trampling horses' feet • • Atfaifi add» fst and aid* fortune In the hog business.
