£ IIERRY SQUARE
▲ NEIGHBOURLY NOVEL
by GRACE g. RICHMOND
32
“We’re not going to permit
the ladica to leave ns yet,” de
clared tlic host, smiling broad
ly as the table was finally
cleared of all but its decora
tion*. “I’ve set my heart on
• little speechmaking, and I’ve
appointed myself a sort of im
promptu toastmaster—if a
thing can be impromptu which
has been thought of before
hand. First of all, I'm going
to propose a toast to our be
loved friend and minister, Dr.
Sebnyler Chase, whom we are
wishing to honor tonight.”
Jie went on speaking for
some time, holding his gluss
suspended in the air—a price
leas little glass filled with wine
which his guests understood
was priceless also, as such
wines arc rated. Ilis praise of
Doctor Chase was extreme and
mo nearly fulsome that its sub
ject felt himself for once
thankful to l*o behind the dark
glasses which wpre a screen for
Lis eyes, and wishing nr
.•dently that the glasses might
temporarily he enlarged to cov
er iiis whole face. What had
happenM to him, he wondered,
that swob words—he had heard
their like many times before in
his public career—could now
eecm to him so empty and so
euniJniet What had he been be
fore, that he could have en
joyed such panegyrics—f o r
onquestionnbly he had enjoyed
them, and had with modest
‘deprecation of manner accept
ed them. Now he sat waiting
impatiently for their end, long
ing to he upon his feet ignoring
that introductory speech and
proceeding eagerly to his task.
And at last it ended, with a
terrific flourish of rhetoric,
and the company was rising to
its feet.
{Sally, rising to hers, looked
aetons the table at her husband
«nd saw such an expression
upon his face as she never had
Been there before at such a
moment. She, too, hid hated
the too adulatory speech from
the man who who had been
obviously not reluctant to see
the subject of it down and out.
Hut to see that Schuyler hated
it who had never before
thown, even in this veiled way
which perhaps only she could
toad, distaste for any praise of
himself or his works—her
heart beat, not only pitifully
but. triumphantly as she
'Watched him. What would ho
Bay in answer to it? She was
suddenly as sure as she could
tv that he would be equal to
disowning it in a way so gra
cious yet. so skillful that lie
would actually deserve til that
and more as he never had be
fore.
Jt was at this moment, just
as the toast was drunk and the
puests took their seats again,
that two figures appeared in
the wide doorway of the room.
Pierpont, who had been watch
ing that doorway even through
his own speechmaking, rose
again and hurried toward
D eni. One was that of his but
ler, the other that of the be
lated guest who was now Ini rig
'ushered in, according to the
master’s orders: “At any min
ute, no matter what’s going on
—only the quicker the better,
.Downs.’’
^Gordon Mackay, his gaze
■tufting from Schuyler whom
he was expecting to rise and
reply, ami who instead was
sitting still and eagerly trving
to watch the arrival, turned
his own glance toward tlie ad
vancing figure. Slaritig nmar
kedly at it, he started up m bis
seat. Then Ik? pushed his
chair aside, and was off down
the long room after his host.
The guests turned of one ac
cord to see what was the inter
ruption which could delay the
puest of honor in replying to a
.toast to hints;lf. They beheld
Maekay greeting and being
greeted by an imposing look
ing man with a rugged, weath
er reddened face, heavy iron
gray hair, and a strong Scot
tish accent, wearing the gray
tweeds in which he had trav
elled.
“Father!”
“Gordie, lad, it’s a peety I
should disfairb ye and your
friends at your feasting. But
a faither will not be waiting
outside when his son’s within,
ehf . . . Mr. I’ierpont, we ask
your pairdon—and know it’s
granted.”
“Granted? I should say so,
Doctor Maekay—when we’ve
cabled for you to be here to
night, and have only been
waiting for you—the few of us
who knew. For the rest—in
cluding your son—it’s a de
lightful surprise. Ladies anl
gentlemen”—Pierpont could
do nothing on this occasion
without a flourish—“allow me
the honor and pleasure of ore
sen ting to you Dr. Carmichael
Maekay of Edinburgh.”
They greeted him with a
friendly round of applause,
genuinely interested in this dis
tinguished stranger, who in
cluded them all in his bow of
acknowledgment. He sat down
in the empty place, waived
aside all offer of food with Hie
statement that lie had been
eating his wav across the At
lantic, and could take no more.
His steel-blue eyes seemed to
see everything. A personality
indeed was Doctor Maekay.
For a little there might have
been nobody else in the room
t.i look at, .10 attractively lom
inant was the mere presence of
this more than middle-aged
!sc< tsman. Everybody faced
toward him, intent upon him.
Gordon Mackav’s place was
opposite that of Ins father.
Those who before had thought
him self contained, now say
!l at he had much ado to con
tain himself with joy. As for
the elder man, though he paid
(curteous attention to every
word said to him, and played
his part with du? heed to pro
priety, it was evident Hint
there was no one really present
for him exeepi his son.
XXVIII.
“It was a peety to distairb
tlie proceedings at this point,”
said Dr. Carmichael Mackay
again to his host. “I remember
as I came in ye were all risen
to a toast. Should that toast
not be responded tot”
“You’re right, Doctor Mae
kay, it should. I was onl.i
waiting till we’d calmed down
a hit after the excitement and
pleasure of your arrival. We
had just been toasting Dr.
Schuyler Chase, the minister
of our—T may say— great
church. He has been ill, but
by the grace of his physician
is allowed to be present to
night, that we may do him
honor. I’m delighted that you
came in time to bear this mas
ter of pulpit oratory respond
to my all too inadequate words
of praise of him. . . . Doctor
Chase, will you consider the
interruption only an added
and fortunate introduction to
your reply?”
Schuyler rose from his place
at one end of the enormously
wide table, beside his hostess.
Carmichael Mackay, at the op
posite end, fixed upon him the
gaze of those piercing steel
blue eyes. Gordon Mackay,
forced to give at least a seem
ing attention, though bis
thoughts were still upon this
astonishing physical nearness
of the man dearest to him in
the world, looked with a sud
den rush of pity upon die slen
der figure holding itself so nn
wantedly erect. ITo had hardly
seen Schuyler without his
stoop since his illness began. As
for Sally Chase, her heart
seemed to her to be about to
suffocate her. Wnat a diffi
cult, dangerous place it was,
she thought, for her poor in
valid! If lie could only come
through the ordeal without in
jury I
“He’ll all right,” murmured
the voice of Richard Fislce in
her ear. “Haven’t seen him j
look so competent in months.
We’re going to hear some
thing.’/ -»*
If Schuyler had needed one
more react.:on to warn him
against an attempt to do this
tiling in any but the simplest
and most direct way, it would
have been that from the ob
noxious phrase of Sage Pier
pont’s—“master of pulpit ora
tory.” As if to confound such
a characterization of his ability
as a public speaker, lie began
and proceeded in a quiet man
ner so unassuming and so free
of all apparent effort to pro
duce an effect that it of itself
did produce an effect—that of
extreme surprise upon these
people who had been accus
tomed to his presence in the
pulpit. At the first it might
have given all but a discern
ing few the notion that they
were listening to a man brok
en not only in body but in spir
it,. But as he went on with
clear brevity from phase to
phase of his subject, it was im
possible not to feel that here
was one who, for the hour at
least, was in a new way rising
above anything that he had
done in the past. For, un
questionably, the thing which
Schuyler Chase was doing was
attempting to efface himself
and to put forward the qualifi
cations of another for the
place which he was about to
leave vacant. He was doing it,
equally unquestionably, with
all the power that was in him
to make that other see that
here lay his duty, and that
Schuyler himself wanted to see
him do it. And in the end, he
came to addressing Gordon
Mackay himself, as man to
man, as if there were no oth
ers present.
“This is a star-chamber ses
sion, Mr. Mackay,” he said.
“We are all sworn to secrecy—
or will he. You shall supply
this pulpit for the coming
months, ami there will he no
intimation that the church will
call you. Bat those of us who
have heard you preach (and I
am one—you didn’t know that,
did vouf) know that you will
inevitably he called. This peo
ple will recognize the right
man when it sees him, and it
will offer him this pulpit.
“Yes, I heard you preach,
Mackay. Last Sunday, after
the service had reached sermon
time, I came into the anteroom
of the church in Cherry Square
and shamelessly listened
through the door which I set
ajar by a crack. Not even my
wife—who knows everything
about me—knows this. As I
listened I became convinced
that all I had heard from oth
ers about you was true. To put
it in a plain phrase—you can
preach, Gordon Mackay, son of
your father!
“I know that for the pres
ent you have set your will
upon a special work, in a much
humbler place. I honor that
plan of yours, and your inten
tion to carry it out. I know
that the Scotsman has a fearful
reputation fbr never changing
when he has set his will and
his purpose upon a thing. I
can only hope that when,
though he has set his will and
his purpose upon that thing, he
can be. believed not yet to have
set his heart, that heart can
be moved to change his plan,
as the rudder the ship. I said
to a Scotsman once: ‘The men
of your nationality are popu
larly conceived to be like the
granite of Scotland’s hills—
hard and unyielding. I’ve often
wondered what there might he
underneath the granite of the
Scotsman’s will.’ He answered:
‘The fires of his heart.’ Mac
kay—to change the metaphor
—I’m counting on the fires
burning in your heart to light
the fire of your influence as it
will burn in the pulpit of this
church—a flame which iisir.g
from such a hill cannot be
hid."
Then quickly, as if he feared
that “oratory”—though he
was speaking so restraincdly—
would after all creep into his
method, he turned to the elder
Scotsman. “Doctor Mackay,"
he said, “can yoii tell your son
that you would like to* see him
in this place? I’m counting on
that, you know. I think he
must care very much to do
what you would want him to
do."
Across the Uble Gordon
Mackay’s eyes met his father s
In those of the younger man
showed the others knew not
what of deep feeling, which no
Scottish blood could wholly
conceal. In those of the elder,
though they were glowing
brightly, could be discovered a
sterner control. Hiis lips
throughout Schuyler’s speech
had been tightly compressed;
his firm chin, of which his
son’s was a repliea, seemed to
thrust itself farther and far
tlier forward. “Scotch gran
itc," he looked, and yet no
man or woman there could
doubt but. that the fires were
burning underneath.
At this putting of the ques
tion directly to himself he was
silent for a long minute. Then,
half rising, he said, with ex
treme simplicity: “It is a mat
ter which no one but my son
can decide. He knows pair
fectly that I wish to see him
do his duty, wherever it may
lead him. More than that I
canna’ say to influence him."
And he sat down again.
Schuyler said: “I rest my
case, Mackay,” smiled at him,
and took his seat. A hush fol
lowed during which it seemed
that no one adequately
breathed—unless it was Doc
tor Mackay, whose unconscious
deep respirations could be rec
ognized by those nearest him.
Then slowly the younger Mac
kay rose. He looked for an
instant at Jo Jenney, who sat
beside his father. Then he
turned to Schuyler Chase, to
whom he spoke. Rut again
and again, as he made his re
ply to Schuyler’s appeal, his
eyes returned to rest upon that
rugged Scottish face, as if, no
matter what courtesy demand
ed, or who else was listening, it
was to Carmichael Mackay that
he spoke.
“I can only tell you some
thing that happened to me
last night,” he said. He seemed
to forget or ignore what might
naturally be expected to in
troduce whatever he was to
say—appreciation of Doctor
Chase’s speech, acknowledg
ment of the honor done him—
all those polite and well nigh
useless preliminaries which
pave the way for the real
words to come. Instead, he
plunged into the answer to the
grave question which had been
put to him.
“I had a classmate in the
Edinburgh schools, James Mac
pherson. He was a wonderful
lad, and we were great friends.
Even in his youth, Jamie had
a burning and consuming pas
sion to be of sairvice. When he
was graduated from the uni
versity', he went almost at once
as a missionary to South Afri
ca. I had letters from him off
and on for yeirs. When the
great war came on he was
back on leave in Edinburgh,
and we managed to get into the
same regiment. We both came
through somehow, though he
was left with a wound which
made trouble for him later. Rut
he would go back to his post.
In hospital he’d told me, hour
after hour, stories of his work.
His hairt was in it. as never
man’s hairt that T have seen.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
WANT OLD CARS JUNKED
Pennsylvania Automotive Associ
ation is having its members report
all “junk" automobiles so that their
licenses be suspended. It is a
campaign against the continuanco
of “junked” cars on the highways.
THE TUNA A FIGHTER
New I'ngland Vacationers Hot Thrill
Watching Fishermen Work.
. Alfred Eldon in New York Times \
Magazine
The El cion tuna fish, or horse i
rmaAerel. Is it is known to Gulf of
fi.sherf'nen, Is ®ivmg Ui“ va
crii ter folk a new thull just now.
This is by far the speediest and with
Hhe excivtion of two or three varietes
*»f sharks the largest fish of the New
England coast. In accompanying
native fishermen in their pursuit of
these piscatorial prizes the summer
»ojoiirners are meeting adventure in
a brand new guise
Horse mackerel Is tuna- the tuna
on? buys in the can fcr salads. In
different localities it Is known as
alba core and tunny sh, but
whether in southern watt •>. off Cat- |
allna's shores, or in th Mediterra- !
nean, it is the same spec . Nowhere
does it run larger than off the coast
of Maine. Average spec tens weigh
from 300 to 450 pounds ,00 and 600
pounders arc not uncom mon; occa
sionally 1.000-pounders ro taken,
while the largest record r sh, accord
ing to the bureau of f ieries, was
14 feet long and weighed 1,600
pounds.
A few years ago Pot1 land whole
sale fish dealers dtsovired that
Boston and New York would buy all
the horse mackerel they could
get. The word was nassed alonr to
the fishermen and now “hoss i
mack’filin’ ” is a three or four
months' summer industry that for
several seasons has tided many a na
tive coast family over a period of
financial returns.
Now when the annual dogfish in
vasion precludes profitable shore J
fishing for the small boatman they j
go after horse mackerel and sharks. ■
Owners of a large fleet of small
craft which measure from 26 to 35
lean financial returns,
feet In length rig up crude planks
bcwsnrlu at the and at which Is a ,
“pulpit” for the harpoonpr. Ihc
horse mackerel is “ironed.’ the keg
buov and warp toss°d over, h* is
tired out, brought to the surface,
dispatched and taken aboard pre
cisely as a swordfish is landed.
The entire process, seen from a
small boat where the witness is close
to the water, teems with hair-raising
action. That is why the vacation
ists with sporting proclivities are be
sieging the “hoss mack'rilers” for a
chance to go out with them.
—-- »» -
If soap is distributed in powdered
form throughout the air of a room
and ignited, it will explode with vi
olence.
OF INTEREST TO FARMERS
WORKING WET SOIL
It has been my experience that
wet soil may be worked satisfactor- :
ily with a disk about 10 days before
it can be worked satisfactorily with
a plow, says a farmer who has done
a little experimenting.
Last spring we had 1? acres of
rented ground which was low and
not tiled. The spring rains made it
very wet until the first of June.
This was getting late for us to think
of plowing that much ground to pre
pare for a com seed bed. We talked
it over and decided that we would
try disking instead of plowing. We
had tried plowing w'et soil in pre
vious years and discovered that it
was next to impossible to make the
plow’ scour, and the soil dried into
iiard lumps making a very poor seed
bed.
We found that by double discing,
the old stalks were chopped up fair
ly well, and the top inch and a half
of soil was put in good condition.
W3 let the sun do its bit for a day,
disked once more and planted the
corn after the third discing. We
then harrowed it once and conclud
ed that not only had we saved about
a w?ek of labor in the preparation
of the seed bed, but the soil was put
in better shape than would have
been possible had we plowed it.
However, the biggest advantage
was that the soil was put in condl
tion for planting a week or 10 days
sooner than would have been pos
sible by plowing the soil and then
attempting to get it in condition. A
week or 10 days’ time in getting
com planted may mean the differ
ence between sound corn and soft
com.
Although our seed was planted
June 4, it made better corn than
the seed our neighbor planted a
week earlier on the same type of
ground, just across the fence. Our
neighbor had attempted to plow the
wet soil and then work it into shape.
We concluded that you cannot
work wet ground with a plow with
in 10 days as soon as you can with
a disc. The reason for this seems
to be that after heavy rains low
ground is a reservoir and keeps the
water level very near the top of the
ground. Bv working the surface the
ton soil will dry out, as the disk
will not throw un lumps and the
soil will dry in a half day’s time to
as deep as you have disked, and by
the time you have disked a field of
about 15 or 20 acres it is dry enough
to start redisking.
NEW INTEREST IN STOCK
Due to butter prices and a short
age of beef and dairy stock, a new
interest is being taken in the live
stock business. The dairy farmer
has enjoyed a good demand and ex
cellent prices now for two years and
the beef cattle raisers are now re
ceiving better prices than they have
tor several years. Fortunately it
takes some years to overdo the stock
business, and there is little danger
of this being done for some time,
especially if proper culling is done.
It takes about three years to make
a steer or a cow, and then there is
always an opportunity to get rid of
the unthrifty or poor individual, so
to overdo the stock business really
requires several years. The stock in
dustry is fairly well protected by
tariffs and the American farmer
certainly has an opportunity to
make a fair and dependable profit
in the cattle business, provided he
uses good methods in feeding and
breeding.
The most important department
of the stock business is the feeding
of the animal. This is true because
it involves the largest item of ex
pense. To feed cheaply and well re
quires some study and considerable
planning on the average farm.
While the subject is rather compli
cated, there are few fundamental
principles which, if adhered to. will
result in success and profit.
On the average farm, under aver
age conditions, corn silage and le
gume hay form the cheapest and
best roughage for all kinds of live
stock. Silage, of course, can be
made from many plants, but corn
and cane form the great bulk, and
no doubt furnish the largest amount
of good stock food. To balance such
silage, nothing is better in the
roughage line than legume hay
which we have in many forms and
which can be grown on most every
farm.
Stock keepers are now turning
their attention more than they ever
have in the past to the important
subject of economic and profitable
feeding, and this will bring wonder
ful results, for in a few years the
subject will be mastered and the
average stock keeper will be making
much more from his enterprise; the
scrub will be banished and the un
profitable cow and poor "critter”
will be dispensed with.
We will find silos used to the lim
k for both winter and summer feed,
‘ns- . Legume hay and pasture will
furnish a balanced ration and in
crease the fertility of the soil Bv
such methods the American stock
farmer will be abi£ to hold his own
and improve his condition.
FRENCH OPINION OF EGGS
Here are the words of a famous
French chef. After you have read
tiiem try and figure out some way
to get your city neighbors, your lo
Val egg buyer or produce dealer and
your own family to really believe
that eggs are an exceptionally good
rood, as they reallv are. ir enough
producers would d~> this they could
give the price of eggs quite an up
ward boost. Here’s the French
opinion:
“All cookery rests on an egg. The
egg is the Atlas that supports the
world of gastronomy, the chef is the
slave of the egg. What is the mas
terpiece of French cookery, the dish
that outlives all other dishes, the
thing that is found on His Maiesty’s
table no less than upon the table'of
the bourgeoise—the thing that is as
French as a Frenchman, and which
expresses the spirit of our people
TREATING “ROPY” MILK
Real ropy milk is caused by bac
teria and is developed a-'ter the milk ;
is drawn from the cow. Such milk. ;
when put through a wire strainer,
will form strings several feet long. S
This milk is not harmful but is very
bothersome as it is unsalable and
can not be used for any purpose ex- \
cept possibly swine feeding. The
source of the organism is thought to
be surface water and possibly, at
times, a diseased udder. Careful
stfrlllzation of utensils will usually
eliminate this trouble. Pasteuriza
tion of the milk offers a temporary
remedy. 1
as no other food could express it?—
The Omelette. Could you make an
omelette without breaking eggs?
Then cast your mind's eye over this
extraordinary Monsieur Egg and all
his antics and evolutions. Now he
permits himself to be boiled plain,
and even like that, without frill,
naked and in a state of nature, he
is excellent. Now he consents to
appear in all ways from poached
to perdu, now he is the soul of a
vol-au-vent, now of a sauce; not a
pie crust fit to eat but stands by
virtue of my lord the egg, and
should all the hens in the world
commit suicide tomorrow every chef
in France worthy of the name would
fall on his spit, for fish is but a
course in a dinner, whereas the egg
is the cement that holds all the
castles of cookery together.”
“ELECTRIFYING’’ HENS
Use of electric light with poultry
in winter does more than keep egg
production to a standard equal to
that of summer. It brings the birds
through the winter in a healthier
condition and lengthens the hen’s
working day to a point approximat
ing the ideal condition of spring.
For that reason she naturally con
sumes more feed than she could eat
under the ordinary conditions of a
short winter day.
It is even more important that the
laying pullets have an ample supply
of food in winter than in summer.
Considerable feed is necessary to en
able the hen to withstand the cold
winter nights, and this extra con
sumption of feed is vital to proper
maintenance of the hen’s egg lay
ing qualities and general physical
condition. Within the daylight hours
of winter, the hen cannot get enough
food and exercise to carry her prop
erly through the long nights. As a
result she goes into spring in a
generally run down condition. Elec
tric lights serve to lengthen the win
ter day for poultry, give them
properly balanced periods of rest
and activity, and keep both egg
E reduction and physical fitness at
igh level.
Installation of electricity in the
poultry house is inexpensive, espe
cially if the poultryman already has
electricity in his n:ar-by dwelling.
The individual farm electrc plant
serves the purposes of the poultry
man most efficients, since he has
positive control over the source of
his electricity. This is important
during the winter, when a storm
mght otherwise deprive the poultry
of lights temporarily, and seriously
impair the schedule to which the
birds have become accustomed.
CONSERVING MANURE
It has also been demonstrated
that when a person takes the best
care of barnyard manure it is pos
sible to conserve 85 per cent, of its
total value rather than 50 per cent,
conserved under average care. Thus
it is possible to increase the manure
saved on the average farm by 70
per cent, by giving it the best of
care. Suppose a given farm pro
duces annually 200 tons of manure.
Since the average lass is 50 per
cent., 100 tons would be saved. If
the loss were reduced to 15 per cent,
there would be 170 tons left of the
original 200 tons.
What can be done to save a larger
percentage of the crop producing
value of our manure? When man
ure can be hauled to the field daily
as it is produced mi3 loss of plant
food is reduced to a minimum or
to practically nothing, provided the
liquid portion is saved through ab
sorption by bedding or otherwise.
This cannot always be done, of
course. However, an effort can be
made to get the bulk of the manure
hauled early in the spring. On
many farms manure can be hauled
daily during the winter season, espe
cially when the land is not too roll
ing and subject to erosion. One
cannot outline any general proce
dure, but the subject of manure
cons2rvation is of enough import
ance for each farmer to give it his
closest attention and do the best he
can under his own conditions.
HANDLING; HILLY LAND
Terracing as it is being practiced
consists of a series cf low ridges
built up on hillsides at intervals
close enough together to prevent wa
ter running down the hill. The
ridges, however, are not high enough
to prevent farming over them. The
natural contours of land or lines
along the hillside and between
poii ls of the same elevation are fol
lowed with the terrace, which may
be constructed with plows, scrapers,
or other tools for moving consider
able quantities of dirt a short dis
tance.
Terracing prevents soil erosion, as
the water is forced to soak into the
ground instead of running down the
hillside, thus maintaining the fertil
ity of the soil, and, in dry areas, in
creasing the moisture content of the
soil to aid in obtaining larger crop
yields. Terracing is coming to be
practiced quite generally and is giv
ing very satisfactory results in pre«
venting erosion.
TREAT PIGS EARLY
Young pigs are set back much less
by castration than are older ones
and consequently this operation
should be gotten out of the way as
early as possible in the pi,;’s life.
Young pigs are also much more
conviently handled during the oper
ation than are older ones and losses
among the voung ones will also be
less and slowing up of gains will be
smaller during the healing process.
If the pigs are to be vaccinated
after castration, the vaccination
should be delayed for a week or ten
days to let the wounds from the op
eration heal properly. On the other
hand, if the pigs are to be vaccin
ated before the operation, as is done
in some herds, the castration should
not follow until about a month af»
ter vaccination.
THE SEED DEALER
Farmers seldom stop to consider
the vast amount of time, thought
and money being expended by vari
ouh agencies in order that ttiey may
be better able to obtain good seed.
-Making seed safe for agriculture”
is the idea that is responsible for
changing the relatively simple need
business of yesterday into the high
ly organized and complex seed in
dustry of today. Seed laws, research
work. Extension seed programs, seed
certification, seed verification, seed
staining and seed laboratories have
combined to materially increase the
duties and services of the seed deal
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