P cf
JL' RiG
J1 BY MARY gEVEREUX
*■ - T'TTH ILLUSTRATION'S BY DON C. WILSON
GcppigAt (902, by l/#*, 3ronr>, art Oyvp&y)
C4// Jer&rt
CHAPTER XX.
The following day. Lafitte, accom
panied by Pieire and Xato, made a
t^ip to Shell Island, where h6
* iOnrid ail as he had left It. and re
ceived a hearty welcome from all his
fol.owers. But w hen, early in the aft
ernoon. he returned to Grande Terre,
It was to a scene of great excitement.
. An English warship—a brig—was to
be seen in the offing, and a boat from
1t. bearing a white flag, was approach
ing the island.
Lafioe went himself in a boat to
n^et the stranger, which—as he saw
tnrough a glass—held, becides its
crew, two officers in the English nav
al uniform.
The officers introduced themselves
as Capts. Lockyer and McWilliams, of
His Majesty’s navy, bearers of a mes
sage from Col. X’icholls, commander of
the forces in Florida, to Capt. Jean La
firre, “Commandant at Barataria.”
"I will take the message, gentle
r«^r.‘ said Lafitte. when they had stat
ed their errand, “as it is not quite
possible that you will be permitted to
land on the island.”
At this the officers conferred with
each other in low tones; then the one
v ho had introduced himself as Cap
tain Lockyer. and who was the senior
of the two, addressed himself to La
fitte.
“We cannot do this. Our orders are
to see Capt. Lafitte himself, and to
place the message in his hands.”
“Very well, gentlemen; be it so,.” re
plied Lafitte. “But in that case I must
insist, for your own welfare, that you
go a-hore in my boat, leaving your
own to lie off the island.”
The Englishmen consented to this,
and the boats were brought side by
side. =o that the officers might board^
tne Baratarian craft.
The outlaws, wondering and excited,
and with arms ready for use. stood
watching the returning boat, wherein
the hated English uniforms showed in
seeming friendliness with their own
fellows and leader. But when Lafitte
srepped ashore, he bade them disperse,
and motioned his guests to precede
him up the pathway leading from the
beach.
They lost no time in dome this, scru
tinize! keenly by the resentful and
still puzzled outlaws, who. when the
scfcrlet uniforms disappeared inside
the for: with LaStte, b^gan mattering
among themselves as to the meaning
of this strange proceeding.
LaStte, going to a buffet at one end
^ *>->: the room, took from it several cut
glass decanters and glasses, which, to
fore, if you determine, lose no ti m t.
"Should any inhabitants be incli led
to volunteer their services into Hia
Majesty’s forces, either naval or mili
tary, for limited service, they will be
received; and if any British subject,,
being at Barataria, wishes to return to
his native country, he will, on joining
His Majesty's service, receive a free
pardon.”
When he finished reading, which he
had done with a rapidity suggestive of
carelessness. Lafitte refolded the
papers, placed them in their cover, and
slipped the package inside his coat.
Capt. Lockyer was the first to speak.
‘‘.Vow. Capt. Lafitte. what have you
to say to us. that we may report to
Col. Nicbolls?”
He spoke cheerfully and confidently,
as if there could be no doubt of La
fitte's ready acquiescence in the pro
posal.
"Do these papers cover the entire
matter?” demanded Lafitte, ignoring
the question.
"Not altogether,” began Capt. Mc
Williams; then he paused and looked
at Lockyer. as if preferring that the
latter should explain.
This he did by enlarging upon the
manifest and great advantages to re
sult for the "Baratarian commandant”
and his followers by acceding to the
proposition, entering the service of His
Eritannic Majesty, and placing all
their vessels under the control cf the
English. He added, with much im
pressiveness, that, besides the rank of
captain in the British navy, he was
authorized to promise Lafitte the sum
of thirty thousand dollars in gold.
Lafitte. irstead of replying, walked
to the fireplace, and standing beneath
ti*V IU1 VU iUVt,
whose eyes seemed to be regarding the
group with cold intelligence, looked
down at the two seated men. His
hands were clasped behind him. and
his eyes held a glitter that was menac
ing.
"Gentlemen.” he said, “I agree with
you in saying that th? matter is a
most important ore, for me. as well as
for yourselves—so important to me
that I cannot decide it as speedily as
you seem to expect, but. must have a
few hours in which to give it proper
consideration.”
Both officers looked annoyed, and
Capt. McWilliams expostulated.
"How can you possibly need to re
flect upon a proposal promising so
much for you in the w ay of wealth and
position, as against an enemy who has
proscribed you, and branded you with
infamj ? It is very important that we
••Are we to understand, sir, that this is your decision?’’
gether with a large silver box filled
with cigars, he placed upon the table.
"Permit me to offer you a glass of
wire, or brandy, gentlemen.” he said.
•■Then you may proceed to talk, for 1
am at your service. I am Jean Lafitte.
the •commandant'—if such I may be
called—at Barataria.”
Both officers stared at him in undis
guised amazement. Then they again
looked at one another, but now as if
for mutual comfort, while they began
to mumble confused apologies.
"Proceed,” Lafitte repeated, paying
ft no heed to their discomfiture. "What
ft do you want with me—what can any
* English colonel have to say to Jean
Lafitte of Louisiana that Jean Lafitte
can care to hear?”
Leaning back in his chair, he folded
his arms, and looked steadily at the
two men.
Capt. Lockyer rose, ar.d drawing
from the pocket of his coat a sealed
package, laid it upon the table, near
where Lafitte's arm was resting.
"There.” said Capt. Lockyer, resum
ing his seat, “is a most important
~ communication, intrusted to us by Col.
Nicholls, for conveyance to your
hands. We have orders to await your
ar swer.”
The paper ran as follows:
“I have arrived in the Floridas for
the purpose of annoying the only ene
my Great Britain has in the world, as
France and England are now friends.
"I call on you. with your brave fol
lowers. to enter into the service of
Great Britain, in which you shall have j
the grade of a captain; lands will be
given to you all, in proportion to your
Respective ranks, on peace taking
• place, and I invite yon on the following
terms: Your property shall be guaran
teed to you. and your persons protect
ed, in return for which I ask you to
cease all hostilities against Spain, or
the allies of Great Britain; your ships
and vessels to be placed under the or
ders of the commanding officer on this
% station, until your commander-in j
A chief’s pleasure is known; but I guar
" antee their value in all events.
“I herewith enclose you a copy of i
| my proclamation to the inhabitants of
A Louisiana, which whI, I think, point
«<ut to you the hone ble intentions of
my govern nent. "■ I may be a useful
Instrument in lorv tnem; there
lose no time in pushing the operations
already planned against lower Louisi
ana. We must act at once; and as
soon as we obtain possession here, our
army will penetrate into the upper
country, to make a junction with our
forces from Canada."
"It would appear," said Lafitte. as
he threw the remnant of his cigar into
the fireplace and took another from
the box, "that you count upon no pos
sible failure in your plans."
"Failure!" repeated Capt. Lockyer,
his face glowing with confidence. "In
deed, no. Our plan of campaign is
perfected, and we are certain of suc
cess. Regarding our chances. I will
tell you that we expect excellent re
sults from an insurrection of the
slaves, to whom we shall offer freedom
as the reward for aiding Great Brit
ain."
The cold indifference of Lafitte's
face turned to sudden sternness.
“Do you know anything of the negro
nature, and how it would show itself
under such circumstance??" he de
manded, adding, before they could an
swer him, "I do; and I warn you that
what you propose doing would be
equivalent to unchaining the demons
of hell.”
The Englishmen looked uncomfort
able; but Lockyer mufered something
about "the fortunes of war," and Mc
Williams said; "But the cruelty of the
negroes can add little, after all, to the
punishment it has been decided to in
flict rpon New Orleans. The city is
to be given over to fire and pillage.”
ihis announcement, made wi:h
something of a dramatic air, did not
seem to make the expected impression
upon Lafitte; for he passed it by, and
said, somewhat impatiently, and with
unmistakable decision, "I repeat that
I cannot answer you before morning;
and such being the case, I must re
quest that jou remain here over
night.”
The two officers had risen, and now
stood before him, their faces showing
mingled consternation and anger.
“Are we to underf/and, sir, that this
is your decision?” demanded Capt.
Lockyer excitedlv
"You are, unless you see fit to give
up all further negotiations with me.
In case you accept what I suggest.”
answered Lafitte, “you will send an or
der for your crew tc return to the brig,
and to coma for you at noon to-mor
row."
The tone of quiet authority accom
panying the words appeared to leave
no alternative for the British officers,
who could only nod their assent, evi
dently deeming it more diplomatic to
check the anger showing in their
faces.
Lafitte smiled, and moved toward
the door.
"Now I must leave you; but I will
place you in the care of Scipio, a
faithful old servant, who will attend
to your comfort."
They bowed stiffly, and he went out,
closing the door after him; and the
officers heard him lock it, and remove
the key.
Scipio soon appeared with a lighted
lamp. This he placed upon the table,
and, taking notice of those present,
proceeded to work, with the result
that, in a few minutes, a cheery fire
was blazing. And, as the Englishmen
drew their chairs to the hearth, the
old negro closed and barred the heavy
shutters, besides placing for the night
an iron bar across the already locked
door.
"We seem to be prisoners, rather
than guests.” remarked Capt. McWil
liams. in a tone too guarded for his
words to reach the partially deaf ears
of Scipio, who was busy at the table.
"It is a cheap price to pay, after all,
if it results in cringing him over to
us.' said Lockyer, in the same low
tone. "Those hands of his. and his
manner.—the whole ‘cut of his ;ib.'—
suggest the idea of his being quite able
to hand a lady her fan with the grace
of a courtier; but they also suggest to
me, at least, his ability to clutch an
enemy by the throat and hurl him over
a cliff, or make him walk the plank.”
(To be continued.)
GOLD IN THE EAST.
Imrrense Amount of Precious Metal
Waiting for the Miner.
“I believe that from Halifax to Ten
nessee, in a line winding around
through Maryland, Virginia and the
Tarolinas there is going to be a re
ifcbilitation of gold mining,” said Col.
-V B. Russ, of Montgomery county,
at the National last week, says
th* Washington Post. ‘ When the
miners went West in 1849 they left
t*:s very field I am speaking of, and
a*w?r that field was explored they
came back to a richer field in Colo
rado. which they had entirely over
looked. After a time they went to
Alaska, and just a short time ago rich
fields were found in Nevada, from
which millions have been extracted,
ii'it it seems to be little known that
right around this neighborhood of
Maryland and \ irginia there are rich
deposits of the precious metal. 1
think it would surprise many people
to know that not long ago in my coun
ty some gold was assayed that yielded
$23*5 to the ton, while the average
was $S to $10. In another place there
$2,000 was dug up in one day. and all
this by entirely crude methods. It
runs through a vein of Quartz some
eighty feet down. Near Great Falls
seven veins have been o:>ened from
three to twenty feet wide. Six Colo
rado mining capitalists a day or two
ago bought €i 0 acres of land in that
locality for the very purpose of ex
ploring this. It is not confined to
that locality, either. I have driven in
my buggy CoO miles from Maryland
down through the Carolinas and have
found many places where the same
conditions prevail. In South Carolina
there are mountains of iron ore that
have never been touched. I tell you
the mineral resources of the eastern
South are unknown/’
---
Berlin at Night.
Berlin is at its best at night, says
a traveler. They have discovered the
secret of electric lighting, and when
people step out trom their offices and
shops at eight and nine o'clock at
eight, it is into an enchanted city.
The solid palaces, the monstrous stat
ues, the enormous houses and wide
spaces of the long and stately streets,
are then soft and gracious with a
fairy radiance. It is a city not only
of prosperity, but of pure delight. The
heaviness of the buildings and the
rigidity of their lines are blurred and
softened. In the clear northern air
the million lamps blazing from the
walls of houses, sninine across the in
terminable streets, and glowing in a
straight lire down the whispering av
enues. have something of the magic
gentleness and sensuous inspiration of
an Arabian story. You begin to think
Berlin is the greatest city in the
world.—Montreal Herald.
Congressman Caught by Old Dodge.
That the streak of vanity in the av
erage public man is both wide and
deep is well illustrated by a story that
Congressman Mahon of Pennsylvania,
tells at his own expense. “The day
before Christmas,” he said, “an old
darky up in my home at Chambers
burg came in to see me. ‘Mar’s Ma
hon.’ he said, ‘we's got a little baby
'round at our house, and we thinks
so much o’ yo' dat we's done named
him Thaddeus Maclay Mahon Murray.’
With that he grinned and looked ex
pectant. I was suspicious of graft,
but it was Christmas time, so I hand
ed the old chap a ten dollar bill.
“A couple of hours later I encounter
ed the postmaster. He swelled up j
and said: ‘Well, I guess I am getting
famous. Just had a baby named after I
me.’ He had hardly finished when an
other local politician of some note
joined us with a remark of the same
kind. Wo compared notes and found
that we had all been held up by the
same rascal. We decided to investi
gate and walked around to where the
old fellow lived. He was out, but we
demanded an explanation of his wife.
‘Eho.’ she said with a roil of her eyes.
‘Dat baby boy o’ ours am 21 ’years
oi’. and he am called George Washing- ’
ten Murray. I guess fny ol’ man jus’ |
muxs a little Christmas money.’”
—
Railway Building in Japan.
During 19f'3 railway building in j
Japan on one extension of eleven
miles called for the construction of i
two tunnels, €33 feet and 2.2SS feet i
in length, respectively, and one bridge ‘
of 2.009 feet. Another extension of
fourteen miles was built last year.
This line also retired several
bridges. Other shorter ».cd temporary '
lines were built in 1153. The go
bunkie bridge, cu one of these am&iJar
lines, Is 2,302 feet long.
The Patriot.
His eyes ashine with ancient memories.
His Hood aglow with subtle racial fire.
For him are quenched the stirrings of
desire.
The pageant of the world has ceased to
pi ease:
Hushed are the evening songs—the lutes
of ease;
In the war flame, that old ancestral
pyre.
He casts his hopes of home, wife,
child, or sire;
Instinct of race, a passion more than
these.
The spirit of his country, holds him
thrall;
In him forgotten heroes, forbears, rise.
Strengthening his heart to common sac
rifice ;
Out of the darkness generations call
And martyr hosts, that unrecorded fall.
Salute him from the void with joyful
cries.
—London Dailv News.
—
Premonition Meant Captivity.
In February, 1865. Gen. John A. Kel
'logg was placed in command of the
brigade and he took me along as tis
adjutant general, writes Lieut. Col. J.
A Watrous, U. S. A. About a week be
fore the closing campaign which end
ed at Appomattox, a premonition
seemed to fasten its ugly fangs into
my brain, heart and flesh. It was at
my elbow when working or resting:
when walking or riding; when read
ing or writing; when asleep and when
awake, and always to torment. Mine
was a more mysterious premonition
than those which sat by the side of
poor Brown. Ticknor, Chapman. King.
Durand, and Williams, and pointed to
open graves. Theirs were outspoken
—told them, and in the most cold
blooded and merciless way. that they
were to be killed in battle. My pre
monition stared me in the face and
gave w arning of an approaching calam
ity. but did not deign to reveal the
character of the calamity. I was as
sailed in the dark—did not know what
was coming. Pride sealed my lips.
It was the general's first fight in
command of a brigade—the brigade
we had served in the better part of
four years—King’s. Gibbon's. Bragg's,
Robinson's. Morrow's iron brigade of
the west. The command was massed,
division front, in a piece of woods, out
of sight of an enterprising enemy,
the forenoon of March 31, when Gen.
Kellogg had his officers assembled.
“This, without doubt,’’ said he, “is
our last campaign. Think of service
done and glory won. See to it that
in these coming struggles we add to
the old brigades good name.”
Sword belts were tightened and
each officer seemed to give himself a
fresh pulling together.
Up to that moment my tormentor
had not left my side, but it then left
me as it had come, without seeking
permission. Relief? Yes, indeed.
Five minutes later Gen. McGowan's
division crossed White Oak road and
started in our direction with a yell,
and drove in our skirmishers. For an
hour and a half the field of Gravelly
Run was an extremely lively portion of
the Old Dominion. It was a strong di
vision of two large brigades against
our three regiment brigade. When Mc
Gowan had sent a force to pour lead
into our right flank and another to do
the same for our left flank, and still
held a firm line in our front, it was
too much. We had to get back. "Ad
jutant. order the Ninety-fifth to faM
back at once.” said the general. I had
to rice through a piece of woods where
the underbrush was thick. Just as 1
was approaching the point at which
the Ninety-fifth was ten minutes be
fore. my horse fell to bis knees. He
answered the spur with a couple of
leaps and landed me in the center of
an advancing line of Confederates, a
score of whom demanded a surrender,
enforcing the demand with ugly guns
carelessly pointed in my direction,
some of the barrels within a foot of
my body. It was no time to bandy
words. As I swung from my horse,
he reeled and fell, a bullet hole in his
neck explaining why he had fallen to
his knees a moment before. Old Char
ley carried me on a mission to save j
th3 Ninety-fifth and then lay down
and died, and I was a prisoner.
Pay Day and the Sutler.
"There ain't no joy in the dugout
life of the soldiers in Manchuria—no j
sutlers." said the veteran of the days
of ’61 as he dangled his feet against
the office chair and looked benignly I
upon the little black-haired and wiry
clerk.
"Just what I was thinking.’’ said the
clerk. "You know I had some service j
with the One Hundred and Fifty-ninth
Indiana in oar late burlesque difficulty j
with Spain, and the blamed old war j
ended before I had time to put into i
operation one of my schemes to lay
the foundation for a fortune.”
"No Muscovite, and no little yellow
man. either, for that matter, can know
the true joy that came to the federal
soldiers when I was a fighter,” con- (
tinued the speaker. “Was it the vic
tory at Gettysburg, the splendor of
Phil Sheridan’s timely turning of the
rout at Winchester, the end of the ter
rible Wilderness campaign or the suc
cess of the operations about Peters
burg in the East or the fall of Vicks
burg in the West and the opening of
the old Mississippi that made us blue
coats laugh and go to our blankets at
night thinking of the dear ones at
home? Well, I should say not.”
And the pensioner of the civil war,
taking a fresh grip on his stock of
words, permitting a strange light to
come into his eyes, stroked his beard
for the fiftieth time cr.d continued:
"It was pay day and the sutler that
brought oar joy. Never will I forget •;
the sweetness of the hour with the I
sutler every time I got my pay or suc
ceeded in getting the boys of my com- j
pany to contribute to my purse via
the draw poker route. Corn meal and j
bacon got an awful hard jolt when
those rich moments rolled around.
Let’s see. there were gherkins all the
way from Soho Square, London; nice
ly done up in green bottles, and with
the malt vinegar so ‘bity’ that more’n
one of the fellows used to drain it off
to make believe it was rare old bran
dy. Then there were mince pies—not
like mother made, but so mysterious- j
ly put up that they gave a suspicion 1
of a tinge of homesickness to the j
eater; an’ spiced onions, pickled j
watermelon rinds, res-1 frr&i *
m real lard, mushrooms packed in
tins, plum puddin’ sealed up with red
sealing wax—ah, it makes my mouth
water now to thick of those delicacies.
“Course they cost a mighty pretty
penny, but we had to have ’em. Con
^dentially. I think the sutler who fol
lowed our brigade was the richest
man in the whole army corps. He's in.
business now in Iowa, I think, running
a wholesale grocery house that sells
$2,000,000 worth of goods a season.
Many a time I felt as if I'd like the
war to last a long time, if the sutlers
would hold out. Toward the end,
though, the sutlers got to charging
ruinous prices and we had to cut out
some of the tidbits.”
Met Death Unflinchingly,
The noted Bishop C. C. McCabe,
who was an ardent admirer of Gen.
Powell, tells the following incident:
“Some time after the close of the
war Gen. Sheridan. Bishop McCabe
and a number of prominent army men
were together, whereupon some one
made a remark complimentary to
Sheridan. With the modesty charac
teristic of the man. Gen. Sheridan
placed his hand upon Gen. Powell's
shoulder and said:
“ 'Gentlemen, the country could
have better spared me in the war
than this man.’ ”
As might be expected. Gen. Powell
finally met death as fearlessly as he
had faced him a thousand times on
the battlefield. While on his deathbed
Gen. W. W. Blackmar, commander in
chief of the G. A. R.. paid him a visit
at his home in Belleville. 111. Gen.
Blackmar had appointed Gen. Powell
to a position upon his staff, and he
made up his mind to cheer the sick
man up a bit.
"You are looking fine.” exclaimed
Gen. Blackmar. “I shall expect you to
serve actively upon my staff.”
Gen. Powell smiled and in a cheer
ful voice replied:
“Thank you. general. I should dear
ly love to do so. But as I can't serve
you on this side. I shall be pleased to
do so on the other side should the oc
casion present.”
Virginia and North Carolina.
The department of Virginia and
North Carolina has a bronze badge in
the shape of a disk, bearing upon
either side the seal of one cf the two
states. This disk depends from the
pin by two bronze chains and between
them hangs a miniature peanut. The
pin is inscribed "G. A. R., Department
of Ya. and N. C.”
Trouble Over Honor Medals.
The War Department has a nice
little row on hand which interests
the 2.500 holders of medals of honor.
Just as the department was about to
issue new medals of honor to replace
the old decorations, as provided for
by Congress, it was discovered that
the design had been patented and
turned over to the Medal of Honor
Legion. There is great dissatisfaction
also because the medal is made of
brass, coated over with gold. Alto
gether. there is so much criticism
over the matter that the department
has decided to hold up the distribu
tion of the medals pending a proper
adjustment.
About two years ago a movement
was started by General G. L. Gillespie
of the Engineer Corps to authorize
the adoption of a new design for a
medal of honor to replace ail those
that had been issued by the govern
ment. on the ground that so many or
ganizations had copied the medal cf
honor badge that it had lost all its
significance to the general public, and
it was particularly complained that
the Grand Army of the Republic had
appropriated the pattern.
After considerable delay Congress
passed % bill authorizing the change (
and appropriating money for the man- '
ufacture of new medals. General Gil
lespie was placed in charge of the
work of drafting a suitable design,
which, with the assistance of a well
known sculptor, was lately completed
and adopted. An order was given for
the manufacture of the medals, and
the owners of the old emblems were
called cn to surrender them and re
ceive the new ones. Most of the orig
inal medal of honor men have com- I
plied with ttie request.
The War Department a few days
ago was about to begin the distribu
tion of the new medals, when the dis
covery was made that General Giiles
pie had patented the design and was
preparing To assign his inTerests in
it to the Medal of Honor Legion.
When these facts became known at i
the War Department they pro- 1
voked severe criticism. It is under
stood a strong protest against the as
signment has been made, the question
being raised as to the right of an of- j
ficer of the army doing public work j
cf this sort to patent the same, ex
cepting for the benefit of the govern- !
ment It also is asked why the legion, ;
a private organization, should have j
control over the use of this emblem,
which is a strictly government decora
tion.—New York Press.
Figuring on Good Cows.
I find it exceedingly difficult to In
duce my neighbors to do any figuring
on the advantages of keeping a good
cow. The reason for this is that you
can't figure without data and data is
not based on guess work. I have come
to the belief that if a man can be in
duced to figure he will be soon look
ing around for good cows. I took one
of my cows some time ago and began
to keep an account of what she cost
to keep and what her products brought
me. Then I figured up all the herd
together and I found that this cow
paid me three times the profit that
the average cow of the herd did. and
she was not a remarkable cow either.
Of course it is not practicable for ev
ery farmer to keep a double or even a
j single account with each cow, but it
is possible for a man by the help of
the Babcock test and the scales to
get a pretty good general idea of
what a cow is costing to keep and
how much she is bringing in. On
that basis he can figure on what a
good cow is worth. I used to have
cows once that did not pay to keep.
Every cent that was received for their
milk was paid out in one way and an
other for feed, and we did the milking
and took care of them for the fun of
the thing. As soon as we discovered
the true state of the case we stopped
j doing that. I suggest that readers of
this pick out a good cow and figure
on what is coming back from her and
then pick out a poor cow and figure
the returns from her. It costs about
the same to keep either cow.
Warren Wilson.
Union County, Ohio.
Good Cows in Denmark.
The Danes have established a very
good system of testing cows and of
culling their herds. One cannot cull
j out the poor cows without knowing
which are the poor cows. Societies
have been formed for the purpose of
employing a man to go among the
herds constantly and test the cows.
It is reported that at the present time
there are over 300 such societies, and
that they represent more than 280 000
cows. This means that over 300 men
are constantly employed in doing the
testing. The culling comes as a nat
ural result, as no man will keep a
poor cow if he is going to dispose of
any. Likewise no man will sell a
profitable cow if he is financially able
| to keep her.
Glazed Butter.
From Germany comes a report of
the use of melted sugar on butter to
make it keep longer. The hot syrup
is applied with a soft brush, and the
work has to be done very quickly.
Some of the butter is melted anyway,
and this goes to form a glazing com
pound with the sugar. The value of
the process is yet to be determined
Our grandmothers never had to con
sider the question of thickness of
cream. To them it was all one wheth
er the cream was thick or thin. Since
the test has been brought into use it
is discovered that a cream that con
tains about 35 per cent of pure butter
fat is best for buttermaking. The
cream that is only about 25 per cent
pure butter-fat often develops too
much acid and makes poor butter.
In a recent address Professor Pear
son told of examining four lots of
milk that had been held at tempera
tures of 45, 50, 55 and 60 degrees for
twenty-four hours. They contained
the following numbers of bacteria at
the end of that time: 445, 3.100, 67,000,
and 134,000, the quantities of milk be
ing the same. The bacterial content
at the beginning of the twenty-four
hours was the same.
—
Extreme care in keeping milk clean
is the basis of good quality in dairy
products.
To Save the Forests.
There is said to be a great awaken
ing in the world of lumbering relative
to the necessity for taking steps to
save the forests. The lumber com
panies have been the greatest trans
gressors in the past, if we may believe
the words of those that have been to
the lumbering camps and have looked
over the situation. The work has been
carried on in the past with the evi
dent idea that it is necessary to lum
ber over one region but once; that the
supply of trees is great enough to
yield all the lumber this generation re
quires and that the next generation
can look after itself.
Now the wise men among the lum
ber kings are declaring that it is good
business to look after the future sup
ply of lumber as well as that of the
present day; that we have a duty to
perform toward our children; and that
this duty can be no longer neglected.
It i3 interesting to note that several
of the large lumbering companies are
now co-operating with the government
in this work.
Nitrogen.
• Nitrogen is a colorless, tasteless,
odorless gas. a chamicai element.
About four-fifths of the air is nitro
gen and it is a principal ingredient of
flesh, milk, etc. It is useful in agri
culture when in a combined state, that 1
is to say. it rou^t be united with other i
materials, or elements as the chemist
calls them, in order as it were to bind I
it. When in the gaseous state only j
a few forms of plant life, the legumes
or pod-bearing plants, can make use
of it. When it is combined with other
elements in mineral (nitrate or am
monia) or organic (dead vegetable or
animal matter) materials it is more
or less available to all plants. It is
present in these mineral or organic
compounds in amounts varying all the
way from a small fraction of 1 per
cent to 20 per cent. Nitrogen is iTsed
in the fertilizer trade in three forms,
as nitrates, as ammonia salts and in
organic matter.—Vermont Station.
Some men seem to have no capacity
for planning before hand. They do
the work of the day in the day and
without plan. Now and then much
time is lost because of lack of .what
we Pall forethought, but which is really
lark of planning.
'
An Oregon Chicken House.
As I promised some time ago I will
endeavor to give the readers of the
Farmers’ Review an idea of the “var
mint’' proof chicken house constructed
by me. As we live in the wild and
brushy west, where wildcats, minks,
weasels, skunks and coons are as plen
tiful as rabbits in Australia, we have
to protect our poultry or we would
have none. This is necessary the
more so as the poultry business is sec
ond to none in the United States. It Is
my belief that tight houses and poor
water are responsible for the great
mortality among fowls every summer.
My building is 12x20 feet in size and
I always have from 70 to 120 fowls
and have had during the past ten
years, and in all that time I have not
lost to exceed six grown fowls.
The building stands three feet six
inches above the ground; that is. It is
that distance from the ground to the
floor. The house itself is box-shaped,
built of 1x12 lumber, without battens.
In summer the cracks open one-fourth
inch. These close up in winter. There
is a door in the end and a window in
the south side.
The entrance for the chickens is on
the opposite end from the door. The
orifice is made of a tin oil can about
inches square and 14 inches long.
You can get this at any paint shop.
Cut out the ends and cut a hole in the
house the size of the can. One end of
I the can shcmld be cut diagonally from
corner to corner, and each piece bent
back at right angles to the can to nail
to the wall on the inside of house.
Let the entire length of the can pro
ject outside., The entrance should be
about three inches above the floor.
On the outride right opposite the
entrance and about four feet away, set
a round post, the top of which should
be two inches lower than the en
trance. On the post put a one-gal
lon milk pan (an old one will do); put
it upside down and nail fast.
From this lay a board of proper
length and as wide as will go in the
end of the can. Nail board down to
the post on top of the pan. In front
of entrance and inside building set a
board two feet long, 14 inches wide,
about 13 inches from entrance. Then
take another board of same size and
lay on top, nailing one edge to the
wall and the other on top of the edge
of the other board. This is to prevent
the wind from blowing in.
Now if the floor of the building is
sufficiently tight not even & rat can
m.
Now, Mr. Editor. I wish to say that
I am no chicken crank. It is not only
the chicken house that has made poul
try raising a success with me. but my
success is also due to the lady that
has prepared the fowls for the table
for me for the past fifty years.—David
Ruble. Lincoln County, Oregon, in
Farmers’ Review.
Wild Turkeyt.
A good many people do not know
1 that wild turkeys are still in existerce
in various parts of the country and
that their existence in the wild state
has a direct bearing on our poultry
I industry because of the crosses that
| are frequently made between them
and the domesticated varieties. It
might be well if the state governments
would take measures to keep the wild
turkey from extinction. Domestication
has its advantages, but it also has its
disadvantages.
Wild turkeys have a vigor that the
general run of domesticated turkeys
do not possess. This is due to their
wild life in the open air and their con
stant dependence on the food they
have to hunt or is due to the fart that
the battle for the mastery among the
maie birds still goes on among them
as of old. Thus many a male turkey
is killed by his stronger and more vig
orous rivals. Doubtless this has an
important bearing in keeping up tha
vigor of the stock.
u nas neen round mat by capturing
a wild male and mating him with tame
females of the Bronze variety progeny
of exceptional vigor is produced. I!
we permit the wild turkey to be put
out of existence there will be an end
to this improvement in vigor unless
breeders are able to put more science
into their breeding operations than
they have been able to do up to the
present time.
It might be a good idea where the
wild birds are in proximity to the do
mesticated turkey flock to let the
males fight it out. This has been
done sometimes with the result that
the domesticated male has given up
the ghost and the other has taken pos
session of the flock.
Now and then the nest of the wild
turkey hen is found In the woods and
the eggs taken to the hennery to be
hatched. The poults that come from
such eggs are healthier and hardier
than those from eggs of the domesti
cated hen; but c»re has to be taken to
prevent the young birds from resum
ing the wild habits of their parents.
~ *
The Hen in Winter.
Reviewing the difficulty in gettlDg
Mrs. Hen to lay eggs it may be said
that she eats insectivora so largely in
the summer as to suffer severely the
loss of a meat dietary, especially if
in order to live she has to eat corn
morning, noon and night. She then
simply converts herself into a grease
pet wherein neither eggs nor healthy
meat can exist. Offal meat—fresh_
is cheap feed with boiled wheat in
place of corn, and a place to live in
55 to 60 degrees, where they can re
tire when it is too cold to tt* »ir liking
outside. When she produces over one
biiiion dozen eggs per annum it is
just as well to help her in her noble
work when ”de punkin done got froze
an’ de turkey loss he toes.”
What an auxiliary to egg producing
is found in cwbbage. beets, mangle,
rutabaga, an’ sieh' Those who pre-’
pare them for the winter time when
eggs are worth money know and those
only- Mr. Hayseed.
The keeper of fine stock is benefited
by having his neighbors raise only
fine stock. His own reputation is
mixed up to some extent with th®
reputation of the neighborhood.
