THE DESERT MOON
MYSTERY
BY KAY CLEAVER STRAHAN
Gaby and Chad stood on the
porch talking for two or three
tninuteg--a very short time,
at any'rate. Then she went ,
down the steps, and Chad
•till smiling, came back into
4he room.
As became in, Danny called
down from the top erf the
•tairway. ‘‘Gaby—oh, Gaby?”
She knows where Gaby is
going, and whom she is going
to meet, and she, too, is afraid,
t decided, because of the queer
♦trained of her voice.
‘‘Gaby has gone out,” I
called, in answer. And then,
•ince I could still see Gaby,
walking down the path, “Do
you want her, Danny? We
could fetch her back.”
‘‘No” Danny answered.
*Dont bother. I’ll come down.”
I had to reverse my first
decision about Dany’s being
frightened. At least, her voice
was natural enough, now; I
fancied, perhaps, a note of re
lief in it.
It couldn’t have been more
than ten mtnutes after that,
when Martha came running
Into the house, laughing and
dancing, and wearing the gold
bracelet with the monkey
clasp. Gaby, she said, had
given it to her, Just now, out
by ihc rabbit hutch.
While we were all still ex
claiming over th'e monkey,
and praising it up, to please
Martha, Danny came down
stairs. She was freshly dressed,
and sweet smelling with the
nice, quiet flower scent she
used, but she looked really ill.
She said her heodache was
worse again, and she drew the
curtains at the windows be
side the big davenport, to ease
the glare of the light, before
she curled up on ot.
I thought it was a good
time to continue the conver
sation we had begun the other
evening.
“Danny,” I said, as I sat
down beside her, “if you just
could tell John, or Sam, or me.
what is troubling you, I am
pretty sure that we could find
6ome way out.”
“Bless your hearts,” she re
peated. “You are all too good.
I am afraid I can’t tell you
what has been troubling me.
But I can tell you, ^honestly,
that I think now the worst of
the troubles are over. They
never were really mine, you
see; they were Gaby’s. And
now Gaby has decided to—
well, stop being troubled.
“We had a good long talk
this afternoon. She has made
me some promises. She is
going to try to act differently,
to be good—as she used to
say when we were little. She
had a dreadful .disappoint
ment day before yesterday. It
made her act very badly—at
first. She has decided now
to make the best of it, for
there is a best of it to make.
You’ve noticed how much
better she acted last evening
ana an oi to-aayy ane is
making a fresh start. You
see, she has even given Martha
her precious monioy. I am
sure we shall all be much
happier, from now on.”
‘‘Do you know where she was
going this afternoon?” 1
Asked
‘‘For a little walk.”
‘‘Why did she wear her
wrap, and carry her beaded
bag. just to go out for a little
walk?”
Danny sat up straight
pressing her hands to her ach
ing head. ‘‘Wrap—to-day? Her
fccaded bag? .Surely not.”
‘‘That’s just what she did.
Didn’t I see her before she
left?”
‘‘I was lying down. She
came to my door and said that
•he was going for a walk, and
asked me if I cared to go with
with her. I said that my head
ache was too severe. She went
into her room, and from there
downstairs. I felt guilty about
refusing to go with her, after
Two Sides to Trade.
From Commerce and Finance
All nations do their utmost to
sell; none are over anxious to buy.
All pat the exporter on the back
none have a word ot encourage
ment lor tlie importer. He is thi
black sheep of the human herd
What the commercial nations of
the world need today mure than
anything else is to learn the old
lesson all over again: Trade, wheth
er local, national of ^international.
Vi nothing more or less than a pro
cess of bai ter, an exchange of goods.
In other words, that it is a two
way traffic. If so simple a detinition
m this were cor%tai>Hy iupt tfMtg
our talk. I thought that I
should; so I called after her.
But, when you said she had
gone, I was afraid she would
be annoyed at being called
back. I had gotten up; since
John surely will be home be
fore long, now. I came down.
I can’t understand her wear
ing a wrap. It Is so silly, on a
day like this.”
It sounded all right, but I
was not quiet satisfied.
“I thought,” I said, “that,
when you called after her,
you were frightened, or
worried, or—something.”
“Frightened? No, Mary, I
had nothing to be frightened
about.”
“Gaby was frightened,” I
said.
“Gaby! She couldn’t have
been. She was all right this
afternoon. Nothing could have
happened since then.”
“I don’t know. Something
was the matter with her when
she walked through this room.
I’ll go bond that, wherever it
was she was going, she was
afraid to go.”
“Mary, it must be that you
are imagining this. Unless
—Oh, it couldn’t be that Gaby
has not told me the truth
about anything. I am sure she
was honest with me this after
noon. I am sure—And yet—
Dear me, I wonder where she
went for her walk?”
“She talked to Chad, just
before she left. Maybe she told
him where she was going.”
Danny called the question
across the room to Chad, who
was improvising cheerful, '
happy music on the piano.
“Not a word,” Chad spoke
above his music, “except that 1
she was going for a v/alk and
didn’t want my company.”
“Gaby told me,” Martha
piped up, from where she was
sitting on the arm of Sam’s
i chair, "that she was going to 1
the cabin. She was in a big
hurry. She ran.”
“Up toward the cabin?”
Danny questioned, though we
all knew we could not put a
mite of trust in anything
Martha said.
“Yes. Chad loves me better’n
he loves her. Don't you,
Chad?”
; “You are positive,” Danny
insisted, and I couldn’t see
why, for h minute, “that she
went to the cabin, or toward
it? You aren’t fibbing, are you,
Martha dear? Are you sure
that she didn’t go around the ,
house toward the road?”
When she asked about the
; road, her meaning was cuear
to me. Danny was afraid that
Gaby had*gone to meet John, ;
from Rattail before this. But, !
if she had hoped to get any- :
thing out of Martha, she had
made a mistake in her ques
tioning. For anyone to accuse
Martha of a fib, was to make ,
her stick .to it like a waffle to
an ungreased pan.
"sne torn me sne was going
to the cabin,” Martha
i answered. ‘‘She ran. She was
in a hurry.”
Danny stood up. “I thing I
shall walk up to the cabin and
see whether I can find her.
You’ll come with me, Mary?”
I said not in the heat. Be
sides, it would soon be five
o’clock, and time to be start
ing supper. She asked Mrs.
Ricker to go with her. Mrs.
Ricker refused. I wondered
why. when neither of us would
go. Danny did not go by her
self. She did not. Had she,
perhaps, guessed at the cause
of Ga'by’s fear? Did she share
it? Was she afraid to go to the
cabin alone?
CHAPTER XV
One Return
At five o’clock the men put
up the chess board. Chad
stopped playing the piano, and
the three of them went to the
barn£ together.
I went into the kitchen to
get supper. Danny, in spite
of her headache, insisted upon
ling before the eyes of all who are
Interested, theoretically or practical
ly, officially or privately, in the de
velopment of foreign trade, we
might make a bonfire of the thous
ands of books and pamphlets writ
ten on the economic aspects of in
ternational commerce and there
would be absolutely no excuse for a
speaker on the subject taking up
your valuable time at this or any
other foreign trade convention.
In addition to our tangled think
ing, we Americans have been lulled
Into a sense of false security by the
fact that, In spite of warnings of
economists the last few years, we
**V'e, as a recent writer expressed
rieipmg me. Sne did ihe Dest
she could. She managed to get
( the table set, in between times
when she was running to the
window to see whether John
was coming.
At six o’clock though neither
John nor Gaby had returned,
we sat down to supper. Danny
was too nervous to touch a
bit of food. She kept looking
1 out of the windows, and at her
watch, and out of the windows
again.
“Don’t worry, Danny,” Sam
said. “John has had tire
trouble, on account of the
who should have been back
heat. They’ll come riding up
the road any minute now.”
“They?” she questioned.
“Gaby togged up and went
down the road to meet John, j
didn’t she?”
“No,” Danny’s voice curled
into a wail. “No, Uncle Sam,
she didn’t. Martha saw her
going to the cabin. Didn’t you )
Martha?”
“Martha,” Mrs. Ricker j
astonished us all by saying,
“doesn’t know where Gaby
went. She knows only where
Gaby told her she was going.”
“But why should Gaby tell
her a fib about it?” Danny
asked.
“And why,” I questioned,
“should Gaby go around the
house to get to the road, in
stead of going right out the
front way?”
Again Mrs. Ricker shocked
us by speaking. "She would
| not go out the front woy, if
she wanted to keep her trip
to the road a secret.”
“Mrs. Ricker,” Danny’s voice i
: trembled, “What are you hint- 1
ing? What is it that you
know?”
“I know,” said Mrs. Ricker,
“that there is not a man living
; who is not as false as sin.”
Sam growled, “Come down
to facts, Mrs. Ricker, if you
: have any.”
I think it was the first time
I Sam- had ever spoken un
pleasantly to her. He betrayed
his own anxiety by so doing.
It was easy to see that she
was cut to the quick.
“I have no facts,” she said,
“except, that right after din
a private conversation, and he
ner to-day John and Gaby had
decided, very suddenly, to go
i for the mail.”
At th&t minute we heard a
sound for sore ears—the car
coming up the driveway.
Danny jumped up and ran to
look out of the living-room
window. “He has gone all the
way around to the kitchen,”
she said, when she came back.
If it had not been sort of
pathetic, showing how worried
she had been, her impatience
at having to wait another
minute or so to see him, would
have been funny.
She ran into the kitchen.
She and John came to the
door of the butler’s pantry.
John was gray with dust. His
brows were knitted, as they
are whenever he is troubled
about anything.
“He hasn’t seen Gaby,”
Danny announced, with an
exultation that showed plainly
what she had been most
up the rock-salt. That’s why
anxious'about. “He brought up
he drove to the kitchen. Come
and see, Mary?”
“I’d rather see you two come
and eat your suppers,” I said.
“Goodnight!” John an
swered. “I’ve got to go and get
rid of a few tons of dirt before
I can come to the table.”
“No,” Danny insisted.
“Never mind the dirt, dear.
Supper is all cold now. Please
come and eat—”
John patted her on the
shoulder, and smiled at her,
and, manlike, did as he
pleased. He went through the
kitchen and upstairs the back
way. Danny called after him,
asking him to hurry. He didn’t.
When he finally did come,
all slicked up, and bathed and
shaved, he said it was too hot
to eat, and would have nothing
but some ice-cream.
Sam asked him what had
kept him so long, on the trip.
John said tire trouble; and
that he had met Leo Saule,
two miles this side of Rattail,
with his flivver broken down.
John had stopped to help him.
and, at last, had been forced
it, continued to mix the oil of a
creditor status with the water of
an export surplus and found that
the mixture was good. Why then
cannot this condition continue?
Why worry? The answer is that we
have round it very convenient to
forget that during the last 10 years
our annual export of fresh capital
has largely enabled our foreign deb
tors to cancel the promissory notes
which they were unable to redeem
with the sale of goods to us. But
the time is slowly but surely ap
proach when our export of new cap
ital will be far below the level of
foreign interest obligations. When
that time comes—and it is distinct
to cow mm the sw miles to
hiz place.
John has a way. when ht
is worried, of shutting and
opening his eyes, and of toss
ing his head back and to the
side with a quick little jerk, as
if he were trying to get shed
of something that was in it
All the while he was eating
and talking, he kept doing
this. I asked him whether his
head ached.
“No,” he said, “But I think
I’m sort of loco from being
out in the sun.”
“Gaby kept you waiting
quite a while?” Hubert Hand
stated and asked.
“What do you mean?” John
questioned.
“Waited for her down the
road, didn’t you, and took her
to Rattail in time to catch the
train for Reno, or ’Frisco?”
I thought John would fly
into a temper. He has a hanay
temper. But he only looked
around at all of us with a be
wildered expression, and.
“Say, are you fellows trying
to put something over on me,
or what?” he asked.
“Then you don’t deny—'
Hubert Hand began. Sam, who
Iras enough dander for John
and himself both, when neces
sary, broke in.
•jonn cioesm nave 10 aeny
anything. Marcus will be in
the ofice now, waiting for
Twenty-one. ’Phone down.
’Phone’s handy. Ask him
whether he flagged Twenty,
to-day, for a passenger, or
whether he is going to flag
Twenty-one.”
Hubert Hand went straight
to the telephone. From his
end of the conversation, we
could tell that Twenty had not
stopped, and that no one was
waiting for Twenty-one. He
looked foolish, when he turned
from the telephone, and said
‘ Take it all back, John. My
mistake.”
Sam looked mighty serious
“Well,” he drawled, “I don’t
know but what as good a plan
as any would be for us all to
go out and have a look around
for her—”
“Oh!” Danny exclaimed
sharply. “Uncle Sam, do you
think that she has met with
some mishap?”
“I think,” Sam said, “that
she has met with another
machine and ridden off in it.
t But, better safe than sorry;
then we’ll be fine and fit for
the fireworks. Eh, Martha?”
Martha, who had been
drowsy all during supper, was
half asleep on the davenport,
and did not answer.
CHAPTER XVI
The Murder
Sam’s first plan, after he
and Hubert had made a quick
ride to the cabin and back
with no sight of Gaby, was for
the two of us to go down the
road in the sedan. Fortunate
ly, he decided at the last
minute to have John come
with us to drive. Danny came
along with John. Chad and
Hubert Hand were to scout
around the place on their
ponies. Mrs. Ricker stayed at
home with Martha.
As soon as we had started,
Sam said, in a cocksure over
bearing way he never has
except when he is not as
certain of himself as he’d like
to be, “We’ll not have to gc
far. Not more than a mile, I
reckon to find the fresh tire
tracks of the machine that
came up here to meet her
After the breeze and the
shower this morning, the
fresh tracks will show up like
mud on a new fence. Whoa!
What did I tell you? See
there.”
Tire tracks, sure enough;
but they were the tracks made
by the sedan, patterned like a
snake’s back, and showing,
plain as print, on top of the
dim tracks made by the out
fit’s departure for Telko the
morning before. We rode
along, watching the four long
trails; two for John’s trip to
town, and two for his trip back
to the ranch. The only breaks
were the spots where, as it was
plain to be seen, John had
twice had tire trouble.
(TO B> CONTINUED)
Q. How many people are em
ployed in hotels? I. K. W.
A. More than 600,000 workers are
employed in the 26,000 hotels of
this country.
ly visible in the offing—there must
inexorably come a settlement by
means of increased shipments of
goods to the United States or by a
decrease in our shipments of goods
to foreign countries.
COl'E BEDCLOTHES
I Paris—Dr. Coue's famous theory
lias finally wound up in the bed
clothes business. It has been ad
opted by this trade with the result
that bed clothes are now being em
broidered with the auto-suggestions.
-You Can Sleep," "Count Ten and
You’ll Sleep Tonight,” and "You
Won't Dream Tonight.”
OF INTEREST TO FARMERS
PEPPING UP SOD
In the past decade apple growers
of America have shown a marked
tendency to change the prevailing
system of culture from cultivation
to a more permanent sod. In tne
Middle West, particularly in the
great plains section, sod culture has
always been preferable to clean cul
tivation, because of the added pro
tection against winter injury to the
root system. Whatever cultural
system is used, it must provide
strong, vigorous wood growth if sat
isfactory annual crops are to be ex
pected. It is theoretically possible
to secure too luxuriant a growth,
resulting in a lower yield, but this
over-vegetative condition is seldom
obtained in a bearing orchard. The
writer has seen occasional trees in
such a condition, but has yet to find
his first mature orchard in which
growth has been overpromoted to
the point of producing iruit produc
tion. On the other hand, nine out
of ten sod orchards show very evi
dent symptoms of lack of vigor. Sat
isfactory vigor may be maintained
in sod orchards, but experience lias
shown that it is generally necessary
to provide a mulch under the trees>
ana to apply some form of nitro
genous fertilizer. While some mulch
material may be grown in the or
chard, it is generally necessary to
supplement this by straw or low
grade hay which may be hauled in
trom the outside. The nitrogenous
fertilizer should be applied early
in the spring hefore growth starts
to be most effective. Depending
upon the size and condition of the
tree, from Ihree up to eight or ten
pounds of nitrate of soda or an
equivalent quantity of sulphate of
ammonia should be broadcast on the
ground beneath the branches. Such
a fertilizer will revitalize a weak
tree and bring ft into bearing in a
way that is often astonishing.
COWS NEED GOOD BEDS
It one sleeps in an uncomfortable
bed, he wakes up at odds with the
world, unable to do his best work.
It would be desirable If more dairy
men applied this to their cows. As
w# approach the end of the heavy
spring rush of farm work our cows
are not so badly in need of an in
door bed. Hence, it is an excellent
time to give some attention to our
cow stalls. In many barns the
stalls are not long enough. In such
a situation the cow must stand in
a cramped position, and when she
lies down her udder is forced across
the edge of the gutter and there is
danger of injury. Occasionally
■ stalls are too long. This does not
detract from their comfort, but it
results in an accumulation of drop
pings on the platform, the udder
becomes badly soiled and the pro
duction of clean milk is difficult.
The proper length of stall depends,
naturally, on the size of the cow,
and this, in turn, varies with the
breed. For Ayrshires the stall length
hould be from 54 to 58 inches; for
Brown Sw’iiss from 58 to 68 inches;
for Guernseys from 54 to 58 inches;
tol Holstetns from 58 to 68 inches;
and for Jerseys from 52 to 56 inches.
Width of stall, too, is important. It
baa been found that the smaller
cows of a breed require a stall about
12 Inches less in width than It is in
length. The larger cows require a
stalf approximatey six inches wider
tfcan do the smaller cows of the
breed. Stall partitions also are im
portant. In one cow-testing associa
tion here fn the Midde West 23
cows had udders injured in five
months by adjacent cows stepping
on them. Stall partitions will go far
toward removing this danger.
CLEANLINESS COUNTS
No one can be successful with
chicks unless they keep the chicks
and their equipment clean. Filth
makes excellent breeding places for
all kinds of trouble, both diseases
and parasites. There is nothing so
fatal to chicks as dirty watering de
vices. feed troughs or brooder
houses.
Last spring a friend wanted me
to look at her chicks as she was los
ing a great many of them. When
the brooder house was visited, I
tried to be polite and hopeful but I
could not help but wonder how the
death losses were as small as she
had stated. The drinking foun
tains for both water and buttermilk
were exceedingly dirty. Even though
the chicks were over two weeks
•Id. no effort had been made to
clean, the house or equipment.
The chicks showed signs of having
bacillary white diarrhea. No> doubt
only a few of the chicks were affect
ed at first but the remainder had
been contaminated through the
droppings of the diseased chicks. As
a result the mortality was much
greater than if proper sanitation
had been provided. Part of the
diarrhea was undoubtedly due to
filth around the drinking fountains.
The exterior of many brooder
houses is as important as cleanliness
on the inside of the houses. If the
chicks are allowed to run outside
on ground that has been contami
nated with the droppings of older
birds, the chicks are more apt to
contract coccidiosis and to pick up
worm eggs. This can be prevented
by moving the brooder house to
ground that has not been used by
chickens during the previous year.
Putting ground into some cultivated
crop for a year will aid greatly in
destroying any contamination.
THE “HEN PASTURE’’
When the times comes to turn the
cows out on pasture, a natural ques
tion in respect to poultry manage
ment Is whether or not the flock of
hens can also be turned out to grass
with a corresponding reduction in
the amount of feed required. To
answer the question correctly, it is
necessary to consider some of the
points of similarity and difference
between hans and cows.
Both cows and hens respond to
proper care and fedng by an in
creaed yield, and both are adversely
affected by the wrong kind of feed
ing. Both must be fed on the basis
SEGREGATE AFFLICTED
Birds that show signs, of disease
should always be put to themselves
and treated until it is safe to return
them to the flock. If any consider
able number of them show signs of
the same trouble, they should all be
taken out of the flock and a whole
sale cleanup should be made; clean
out and disinfect all houses and
equipment; clean up yards and in
Every way attempt to remove all
possible sources of infection.
BREED ONLY BEST
The easiest way to increase the
profits in pork production is to im
' prove the sow herd. This can
oi expected luture product! jn rather
than according to past production
If best results are to be obtained,
and both 1. quire rations that ara
I fairly high in protein content.
In many other vays. however, they
' are quite different. Egg production
i ln the hen is equivalelt to reproduc
tion, and the conditions which favor
I high egg yields are those which ara
I conductive to rapid and abundant
| reproduction. The cow has been in
duced to yield a suantty of milk that
| is far beyond the ordinary needs »f
I the growing calf, whil* tlie hen has
been brought to a print where she
lays a number of eggs greatly ln
excess to the number required for
propogating her race.
I A large part of the cow’s ration
cc.isists of roughage, but the hen
h.is no provision in her digestive
tract for handling teh coarse snd
fibrous feeds. Her ration must con
I sist mainly of concentrates. The
; mistake sometimes is made of re
ducing or eliminating the dry mash
as a part of the ration for the fleck
of hens as soon rs weather condi
tions are such that they can be out
of doors most of the time, with free
range available to them This plan
will result in a lowered feed cost
per hen but it will also mean fewer
eggs laid per hen than if a com
plete m:sh uixture is available ai
all tides.
There seems to be a little qnes
ticn but that ttie best practice i»
to give the hens access to abund
ant clover, alfalfa, or other legume
pasture while still providing an am
ple supply of a dry mash that can
tains sufficient protein supplement
; to encourage high egg production.
GOOD FENCES AID PROFITS
It Is a well known fact that th»
building of new fences and th«
keeping of old fences in repair ha*
in recent years, fallen behind for
mer standards. In the last 10 yean
many fences have been allowed to
deteriorate very rapidly, unt’l now
they are three or four years behind
normal replacement. Without beinq
able to point to any special statis
tics on this subject, there is no doubl
that* most farms would be greatly
improved in the way of income that
could be derived from them wer«
the fences in better condition Every
livestock farm should be fcnc’cd hog
tight, so that each field might bs
used for pasture purposes in regu
lar rotation, and so that feed in
| stubble fields might also be utilized
to advantage. On a great many
, farms, some of the old fences should
I be removed and the fields enlarged
to facilitate the use of larger ma
chinery. Irregular fields should bi
done away with and the whole farm
laid out into as many fields, reason
ably uniform In size, as there ar«
| crops in the rotation practiced. Th»
1 fields should be as large as possible,
as this is a decided advantage whern
mechanical power is utilized. Sines
the soils on so many of our farms
are too sour to grow legumes, excepl
soybeans, it is often difficult to car
ry out a liming program fast enough
to make it possible to grow alfalfa,
common clover and sweet clover on
all sections of the farm, yet the aim
should be to reach that desirabla
condition as soon as possible. Thera
often is some question about finding
the money necessary to lime one
fourth or one-fifth of the farm an
nually till the job is completely
done, but there is never any ques
tion about the profitableness of th«
practice, when lime is needed ta
grow these legumes successfully.
The sooner such a program is car
ried' out the better, and once it la
started it will pay for itself in larger
crop yields. There is one good thing
about the fencing problem, and that
is that fence posts as well as good
> fencing materials are relatively
cheaper than a great many other
things the farmer has to buy.
Statisticians declare that the price
index of fence stands at about 122.
as compared with the price index of
135 for the products of the farm,
This would indicate that the pres
ent is a good time for the farmer
to do as much fencing as possibld
and thus make the farm that much
more profitable.
HOG DOORS AND DRAFTS
In some hog houses, there is a
door in each end of the building and
both doors are constantly used. To
avoid drafts through the building
I put a spring on the swinging doors,
says a practical hog man. Tha
spring needs to be stronger thau
found on most screen doors. I nail
j a block on the jam of the indi
vidual hog door so that there a
about an inch crack. If the pigs
are accustomed to use the door, they
soon learn to open the door in spit*
of the spring. If they do not seem
to learn the trick readily, prop tha
door open about six inches for a
few days. After this the prop may
be removed and the pigs will enjoy
j sleeping quarters without seriouA
drafts. I have even fixed two or,
I more doors in the same building
with springs for different groups of
hogs. For individual houses, I pre
I ler a burlap bag containing a scoop
ful of cobs. If this is hung in tha
door with the bottom of the sack
about four inches from the floor, it
aids materially in the comfort of
the hogs or pigs that sleep inside.
| Some hogs persist in adding the
, burlap bag to their depleted bedding
supply. Usually a bag will last about
j two months.
AGE AND INHERITANCE
The ability to produce a certain
qucntlty of milk and butterfat at a
certain age and under a definita
type of feeding, care and manage
ment is an inherited characteristic.
Since this ability is inherited from
the germ plasm of the sire and dam *
of the individual, and since tha
characters are believed to behava
in true Mendeiian fashion, the aga
of the sire or dam does not affect
the inheritance. C.r the average,
a cow will Inherit the same quali
ties from a sire when he is first
available for service, as she would
if her dam were served by the same
sire at the time of his maturity or
in old age.
done by selecting gilts from tha
i largest and fastest gaining litters.
] Lieters must be marked if this is to
' be done. At eight ceeks of age, if
possible, deigh eich litter separately
and select by weight instead by
I numbers. This will automatically
| identify the litters from sows that
i are good • sucklers. Pigs from poor
! mothers receive a setback that is
■ seldom overcome in time for early
sale.
-♦♦
REMEMBER THIS
Grain fed to milk cows when the
flies are bad and the days not, will
bring greater returns than at any
time of the year. Cows cannot otber
maintain their milk flow.
