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About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (March 2, 1911)
JI Modern Cain a tr t h srom r or the secret service I By COL H. C WHITLEY ME fcarre*. rock; HMe farm )•> Xftfcifi Vrr BMH. i mile or tuo ?r<?» the vllUee ut \r»iatt. near the i Iwtij liar B -» tltf sitii)< of bird »orl and ugill re itru, to ttr ordicar; obtmrr i;» build- j »«<• (nt!l and j dd attd cut* of repair ita fear** acre Mf g*t»* la liun*. the "*s* ita prime. to dr *•* c*«t- and ‘.tr bark U muttejr to bur ) trot* Ud twnatod -hr biting Up j the f*a.<* Hut IS vplte td ' **■ M* drtttindu. ihr barm. r*«rkr tarn tat a gkriflrd piacr u> *°** liarro*• :h»: da; .e ear!) ‘Kttt a the kfUrr. for tba' day imm* H—»k had proauaed to be hi* ! •d* laoe had bred atone te the' **-tle hna* ta the «illagr. left to her «® *be death cd her latner and seb-r m and rear* l»et**re. a no .)«■)• the **■*•*•“» had h-eti Inettd* dhe tat a beautiful girt, * ith the |ium) black hair, the darh aad aparfctlhg blue ere*, the ha apfde cheek* and the cub id.aj Balur* and «nd*anted n unir d her kick aaccaart dhe had artor bees afraid to lire alone—neither tear •* pautiir p: )».* *! peril nor of the torstat attitude that eotne-itae* w ttwee to bo dreaded <tea than thieve* or uanoeria* te g£ar» b* |w(ilr obu hare too But of their »«B aur lety. j erer had dbaurh-.d her hhr |«<*«r»ard a rnaft d character a tick «he hrraotf did hut frailae hut a huh. in *r<to»:t( to Barr) Mt liarroaa. « - -art that ahe g. . ■ she her .Lii ins deradlc* dbe had lose ..-a. Karroa* tone Bad toUmateiy-riser the iia)t abet «he» aett to the l!t'll ullage m-Loo! j tu*rth*r lb later rear*, often ahe had liioeti a dark* at the Barroa* farm hoaor. * hereto the famlt) uaa made t» ad Jcda aad hi* mother and hi* hr other Andrea .lire Harr, a • loved the tud) faced girl »» a daughter •M 4b4> kttdf (11 ttr i-Be route* d agfirebeualcia to the cdteralae en- , led) happy yo-tug • oupie As ami- - ea-de agteemeu’ a* o the diitaioa of. ■hr farm had tern reached, but late!) •«*. and rfi»t L~ aateh*d John and -'*»*- artth jialwa »•*« A tea d»»> Wdara Juts a iwupoa*}. And) had ;«M Jaa* la a arrj tits, bat *t* had tntlf rrfuwed *"T«a 1 kin>» ib} >ou »os ( marry ■* T#» re la tore with Jobe Ile a , »'-£<•' than 1. at<l better tat or ad. aad roc r« tatle-a in Sow* with hta frandante, i- tar* Ibr you're mine by rs*Wa aj l a. tba oidewt I ihoal: hare the drat rboh* (A. do ray you lore m Jab*'" " Why. Andy yu« know I rnalda t | aay that. »h»r» you know | do not «ara l« in. ts that aay I'm ao “I dow t was; your »4ty Etwa if ywa don't low* turn, I tor* you enough few herb—can't you marry me* j *«wld t* .t ao «*d bat* all th* tarn. cettf aw lor any Andy. I da * lore yms. and I an z I'aa wot goiaj; to I m worry yoo t.*l ao bad; r»a*t w* b* trt*t.d#* T»» »* raa hr fnrada. but *wor * yow w«t marry m*. neither shall John Mark tav *»<T Ramm* had aa intimate Irwad. Makoln TUtMue. • ciose —■**'« rrmttf Seat aad to bum Andy mmSSaC blf Tout !* * Ttoecnti rat mSarmS ’U matter. then sdvte-d Andy t» be !n«t«.) to Li» brother and t hut to think »hf br Acdr >u to bMr hi* tine far the tumtgt wore du caased and Tun l,« ul* «ay was de e»4e4 «• tor the wedding The sal to h*s» #k»r* of the e-avea's crops u4 hteaturk. with the Barney—the 4*-*r to the heart of fh|rtah4« r which John ha4 to 'he hook. would be -sough to bOW the little house to the * pposit— ■toe Of the *eld fron the old one. «n ohw-h the young oupk- ha4 rea toewf thetr Jobs was work toC kh har4e*t •« -oai the o!4 farm to r*U Mf hawl.a* luge aad hint.' 1 '«• the new Louse sa-i 'toe day. early la the faB the SfMkr't mere working 1® the " W ’fce house The 4ayc were Sorter. nnd Andy suggested he raaeaia ta the held, wr rklr.it tog ■* »!»*** »as M*%’. and that Jc*a pc to the house to 4o -he chores aa4 went to his chores r heart, thinking that Aa4y hade really bee- so greatly tod after all told, as he brought :n Vh* palls of foaming milk "I believe *T« t« *U «*er being ;e*k»u« of He'S so pieasaa: sad Jtgreeable fy 'hat I cas t help thinking he has forgive* aae ~ "He had tobiti to forgive, mr Mrs Hurrttos. bat I n as iw ar» to #—e him la a more tide franc- of taiad I only wish there were two lane* St- is a good, sweet girl, hi to be the wife of any yers ter r.yiag that, n-dher V don't k- H* how happy you make :i< I'll go and whistle for Andy—I •ee supper's nearly ready.” And). however, did not respond to :• ;*>a:ed whistlings. and finally John wen1 to the Held to search for him. h .: <-ovi!d not find him and returned to • i.e house "I guess he's gone to !!- village, mother." he said, "and 1 suppose he will eat supper there. You know- he often doer- that." His n <ther was satisfied, and Andy's ab • c- oauM*d no alarm. Later in the • \ -nlng a haystack, that stood in the :»•- 4 near tne place where the broth ■ rs had l«*en at work, was discovered to be «ic fire John went out to try to sa-.e ;t. but it Feemed to be burning all »er at the same time, arid ho could do nothing The fire was attributed to malicious or thoughtless boys, and no one thought of connecting it *-uh Andy's disappearance. Several days elapsed, and Andy did 0- ,t re'^rn His mother and brother giit h- might have gone to visit freed, Malcolm Thomson, who ! i > d a short dlslan< •• ov r the line in Canada Nearly a week later Thom 1- oc app-eured at the Harrows farm to fra: »u. i some business, he said, with Andy He seemed greatly surprised and disappointed at Andy's absence, and expressed anxiety lest some acci dent had befallen him. The follow ing day Thomson went to the village «.nj In the stores and shops he dis eased the disappearance of Andy, a: i «• rred up considerable comment among the vitlag rs who had thought. »i«h i is mother and brother, that Andy Mas lisiting Thomson. The Si - tci.man appeared much concerned a .4 while exprtssing no opinion, kept ;» the gossip he had started until at las- suspicion was aroused That *hl<h had been a commonplace cir .mstance at first became a mystery • ::at grew deeper and deeper each h< r. inti] flr.all) someone suggested to ;1 play This s :gg. stion rapidly k root and gathered credence until t -cure r.* ighbort: <>d was sure that \ndy liarrows had been murdered. John Harrow* and his mother, of -r»e were the last to hear these -—and when they finally reached :a» ear- John stared an immediate in i< st gatjon. in which nearly all the men of the village willingly Joined. They searched every out-of-the-way [■lace, every abandoned well, every nc k and cranny on the farm At night the men looked puzzled and were ready to go home, and allow the scan h to go over until the next day. when Thomson casually mentioned the burning of the haystack. Mere the searchers were horrified to find a partly burned body. Raking m the ashes, someone found a bunch of keys and a pocketknife. which were re. i mlzed at once as having belonged to Andy Barrows A blood-stained ax with some light red hairs, exactly the shade of Andy's hair adhering to the ’ lade, was found in the grass near by These discoveries seemed to solve 'he mystery of Andy's disappearance t cowardly murder had been com mitred, the body hidden in the stack, and the stack burned to conceal the crime There seemed no doubt as to •he :deniity of the body, and the next thing was to discover the criminal. Suspicion at once pointed to John Barrows Who els*- could have com m:ttrd the awful deed—who else could have had an object In doing it" Thomson, while expressing doubt as to John's guilt said he knew there hac been some misunderstanding be tween the brother*, but did not think It over would reach such a stage Sev eral persons who had heard, or heard ..! the quarrel between the brothers. • ame forward to tell what they knew <.r Imagined, and things began to look pretty dark for John. He was as much puzzled as anyone by the dts overy made in the ashes of the hav v'aek. and could offer no explanation erf the mystery. ; i r.arii v s vas lormany cnargea with 'he murder of his brother, and m warrant was sworn out by Thomson for bis arrest. Thomson took this rtep most unwillingly, he said, but felt be must see justice done his old trend No denial on John's part made ’he slightest impression on the minds f he eirited people They wanted aa mmediate trial, but were eom t- ..<-<! to wait a few weeks for court to convene, and after a brief prelim 'nary hearing. John was taken to the fount y jail. Jane Heath, when tfce first suspi cion of her lover was made public, declared her faith in him. and Jold him she would stand by him and eventually would see the criminal punished. No one could shake her faith in John, and her friends re garded her as little short of de mented when she declared she never Id forsake John Barrows. No one !»' »-swl the slightest faith in his In nocence Even his mother, although not expressing her opinion, was pros ’rated by the grief and the disgrace, and refused to see her son. She be 1 • voi him guilty, and could not bear 10 ee the son who had killed another son equally dear. Wbc n the case came to trial there vas little evidence in behalf of the accused. Old neighbors, ready to be lieve in his guilt, testified unwillingly ot bis pr< vious good character, but took every possible opportunity to Im press on judge and jury that circum stances were mightily against John Barrows. These old neighbors always had been his friends and were not really malicious, their action being merely the result of the well-sown seeds of distrust scattered by Mal colm Thomson. John was adjudged guilty of murder In the first degree. Jane Heath vowed she would move Heaven and earth to free her lover, and through her efforts he was grant ed a short respite by the governor of the state, and he was to remain a . few months in jail before the execu I non. With renewed hope, she deter | mined to prove his innocence and save ilia life. She insisted that there was no proof whatever that Andy Barrows was not alive; that all the evidence was purely circumstantial; and she so earnestly persisted in her theory, and cast so much doubt on the guilt of John, that she finally prevailed upon the governor to commute his sentence to life imprisonment. Soon after the trial of John Bar rows, Malcolm Thomson determined to leave that neighborhood. Before do ing so. he called on Miss Heath and talked to her most consolingly. But Jane was suspicious, and his professed solicitude caused her to believe his declarations of sympathy and friend ship were not genuine. His talk lacked sincerity. Jane made up her mind to watch him. if possible to do so. as she believed he held the key to the mys tery of Andy Barrows's disappearance. Two years later—years in which Jane Heath, though not inactive, had accomplished practically nothing to ward the release of her lover—-a young soldier returned to northern Vermont from the south on a furlough. From him Jar.e learned that Thomson was in New Orleans. She decided to go to that city, making the long iourney as did Evangeline—not to find her lover, but to accomplish his freedom Travel scarcely realize that the handsome youth was In reality a refined young woman. Not long after this Miss Heath re ported to me that she had discovered Malcolm Thomson, and was sure he was engaged In some kind of crooked business. I sent a skilled man to the neighborhood where Thomson was liv ing, to cultivate that gentleman's acquaintance. Soon he discovered that Thomson was carrying on a thri ving business smuggling goods across Lake Pontchartraln into the Confed eracy. Also it was found out that Thomson was greatly afraid of detec tion by the federal authorities. Like all crooks he deemed everyone else crooked, and was seeking an alliance with someone who could "fix" the ru ling powers. This timidity led him to take into his confidence the detect ive in my employ, Colonel Moncos sus. Moncossus easily arranged a part nership with Thotpson, after convin cing him of his—Moncosstis's—great influence with the federal authorities and his ability to obtain fhe necessary permits for taking out goods and bringing in cotton. Thomson was to furnish the money, while Moncossus was to take charge of the little schooner employed, and manage the authorities. There also was a third partner in the scheme, a man named Hopper, who was located at Mande \ille. Just across Lake Pontchartrain and inside the Confederate lines. Col onel Moncossus wished to meet this partner, to whom he was a stranger, and Thomsen furnished him with a photograph of the man, that there might be no trouble in identifying him. Moncossus brought the photo graph to me, and 1 left it on my desk without thinking much about it. Miss Heath, happening in soon after, saw the photograph and recognized it as a picture of Andy Barrows. The mythi cal scheme that had been planned by 'VHYD/a YW 5rttl ffY C/iZ. YMMVMf# SHfAK * " Ym/SHAU 'T lu't MAfi/cMy MffJS" ' - 4 Nr- A BmtT P/f/?cf/> v j m cwar rear r//e l Fom/ipd finer of TtiFda'OOMFfi. \ by rail to New Orleans was suspended, and the city could be reached only by an ocean voyage. She secured a letter to Genera! Ben Butler from the governor of the state, took passage on a steamer for New Orleans, and arrived there without mishap. She immediately went to General Butler's headquarters, but was refused admis sion by the sentinel on guard, who said his orders were to admit no civilian unless connected with head quarters affairs. I was at that time assigned to the secret service depart ment of the United States govern ment and was returning to headquar ters, and seeing the young woman, I stopped to question her. I was inter ested at once in her appearance—her beautiful face and graceful figure, her air of breeding and refinement, but more than these, in her quiet dignity and evident sincerity of purpose. At my request she gave me the letter ad dressed to General Butler, and I took ! it straight to him. He glanced at it and handed it back to me. directing me to ascertain what the young wo man wanted and report immediately to him. The letter introduced the bearer, approved her mission, and re quested that all possible courtesies be shown her. She was seeking a permit to visit the various points of the de partment of the gulf where troops were stationed, and told me frankly the object of her visit. On listening to Miss Heath's story I was convinced of its truthfulness and made up my mind to aid her. so far as was in my power, in her mis sion of love and fidelity. I felt sure, also, that her services could be made valuable to the government, and in aiding her 1 might also be aiding the cause for which I was working. 1 ! offered to employ her to pick up in I formation in regard to the doings of the enemies of the government. This would give her a good chance to travel about within the Union lines and thus serve her own ends, so she promptly accepted the proposition. For convenience, as well as better to conceal her identity. I suggested that she assume masculine apparel. She | acted at once on this suggestion, and when she appeared before me, pre I pared to enter on her duties, I could A Moncossus for the purpose of entrap ping the Scotchman, on suspicion that he was an enemy of the government, had unintentionally become of para mount importance. Steps were taken at once to bring Andy Barrows before Miss Heath, and compel him to con fess his part in the miserable scheme to spoil the lives of his brother and his brother's sweetheart. A small schooner was procured and loaded. It was planned to capture Andy Barrows-Hopper, and bring him to New Orleans. General Butler, when consulted, said the plan was a crazy one, but Moncossus declared he could carry it out. It did seem a dif ficult undertaking, but Moncossus was willtng and anxious to take the risk j and abide by the consequences. When the little boat arrived at Mandeville it was unloaded and taken a few miles distant across a bayou for the purpose of taking on bales of cotton. "Hopper'’ was there to super intend the delivery of the cotton. When the schooner was ready to sail he came on board, with two other men. expecting to be landed at Mande ville as the schooner passed on its way to New Orleans. The wind was blowing heavily that day. dead ahead when the boat pointed toward Mande ville. but well in favor when she was headed across the bay toward New Orleans. Hopper's two assistants were perch ed upon a cotton bale with their legs hanging over the windward rail at the moment Colonel Moncossus put the helm down hard and let go the main sheet. The boom swung over with great force, the boat gave a sud den lurch, and the two men sitting on the cotton hale were knocked into the lake. "Heave her to." shouted Hopper, at the same time drawing his revolver. The next instant he was lying on the deck. A bullet had pierced his side from the forward part of the schooner, which now was headed directly for New Orleans before a ten or twelve knot breeze. When the schooner ar rived and was hauled up out of the lake into the new basin. I was await ing its arrival and went aboard. A i surgeon bad been sent for to care for Hopper, but had not arrived. Hopper was badly wounded, and seemed to realise that the end was near. He appeared to be a man of some educa tion and refinement His high cheek bones, his coarse features and pale blue eves, however, were Indicative of his wicked nature. The tightly drawn lines about his mouth showed inflexibility of will and iron nerve to carry out whatever he undertook. When I went forward to speak to him I recognized Hopper as a man who had been tried and convicted for passing counterfeit money at New Or leans several months before. He had been 6ent to the penitentiary at Baton Rouge, but had escaped during a bat tle at that point in which the prison was partially destroyed. He made his way across the Amite river into the Confederacy where, by standing In with the commanding Confederate of ficer at Mandeville. he was enabled to handle and ship out cotton. I seated myself beside the wounded man and took his hand, and never will I forget the ghastly stare with which he regarded me as I endeav ored to impress upon him the full realization of his condition and the duty incumbent upon him. My urgent appeal had its effect. Hopper admitted that his mind was burdened with a great crime, which he was willing to confess. I had set him down as a scoundrel, but was not quite prepared to be brought face to face with one whose heart was so inhuman as de llberately to plan to hang his own brother. "A few years ugqi'' he said. “I. with my younger brother, lived with our widowed mother on a little farm In northern Vermont. There lived near us a most estimable young woman. I paid her some attention, and in time fell madly in love with her. When 1 supposed I had won her affections I asked her to marry me. She refused and did not deny that she loved my brother when 1 charged her with that as being the reason for her refusing me. She was not to blame. She had made no promises. I had merely mis taken her sisterly regard and kind ness to me for affection. I alone was responsible for the error.” Here he paused for a moment as if to gather courage for what was to fol low. t'p to this time he had met my eyes frankly, but now he shifted his gaze, and continued: “When she told me she could not marry me. and made no denial of her regard for my brother, 1 was filled with unutterable rage. Calling her a heartless flirt, I seized my hat and left her. I was furious, desperate, and determined to be revenged. While my heart was filled with rancor and my mind with spiteful thoughts. I con fided my troubles to Malcolm Thom son. He always was an evil counselor, but a cunning one. He dissuaded me from my plan for immediate revenge, and advised me to appear friendly with my brother in order better to cary out a plot which be revealed to the. 'Soon after this my brother an nounced his engagement to marry Miss Heath, and 1 wished him well with bitterness in my heart. Plans were made for the marriage, and I seemed to take an interest in them, and to have forgiven my brother and his fiancee my fancied wrongs. But I was only biding my time. "When the time was ripe for execu ting the plot we had arranged, I man aged to be at work with my brother In a field on our farm. On the previous night Thomson and I Had placed the body of a man about my size in a hay stack. which stood near where we were at work repairing a fence. Thom son had obtained the body from a pau per's burying ground on the Canadian side. “My brother left the field that day just before dark. 1 remained for tbe purpose of completing tbe work. When tbe sun had set and it was dark, I punctured a small vein in my arm, and with the blood besmeared the bit of the ax we had been using. I cut off a lock of my hair and scattered it on the bloody blade, and then pitched the ax into the grass. Reaching be neath the body In the hay I deposited my pooketknife and bunch of keys. Then 1 set fire to the stack and hur ried to Join Thomson, who was wait ing near by with a horse and buggy. We drove rapidly away, and 1 soon was on my way to New Orleans, where Thomson was to join me in a few weeks "It was agreed that Thomson should first return to the village and stir up suspicion, which would result In a search for me and the discovery of the burned body. Everything turned out thus far as we had planned. My brother was accused and convicted. "It was my purpose, when my rival should be out of my way. to return home, and after a time renew my at i tentions to Miss Heath, but I put off going from time to time. 1 could not face my old friends and neighbors Through Thomson i learned that my brother's sentence was commuted. I was thankful for that. No one ever will know the remorse T have suffered for my crime. My name Is Andy Rar rows.” Heath came soon to Andy Rarrows, and he was beyond the jurisdiction of mortal tribunals. Thomson, who in ; some way got an inkling of the turn j of affairs, disappeared -he whose wicked brain had devised and man aged the entire plot. Miss Heath, with documents fully | verifying the experiences through which she had passed, hastened home to lay before the governor the proofs j of the truth of her intuition. A par ! don was promptly issued, and she I was given the well^arned privilege of carrying it to tbe lover whose inno cence had been established by her faith and untiring devotion. A Most Impressive Arab ft-f- Ocjr c Tells of a Night Spent With Him is the Desert. i&d It was the two rararaae should that wo we had 1 had the Arabs to j hare supper with me, and. after a long exercise of prayer with his fol lowers. be came to Join me. but my attempt at hospitality was thrown away, for he would not touch the ex cellent wine which I had unpacked for him. nor would be eat any of my dainties, contenting himself with stale bread, dried dates, and water. After this meal we sat alone by the smouldering fire, the magnificent arch of the heavens above us of that deep, rich blue with those gleaming, clear-cut stars which can only be seen In that dry desert air. “Our camp lay in silence before us, and no sound reached our ears save the dull murmur of the voices of our companions and the occasional ohrill cry of a jackal among the sandhills around us. Face to face I sat with this strange man, the glow of the fire beating upon his eager and imperious features and reflecting from his pas | sionate eyes. It was the strangest ' vigl, and one which will never pass from my recollection. I have spoken with many wise and famous men upon my travels, but never with one who | left the impression of this one. “And yet much of his talk was un intelligible to me. though, as you are aware, I speak Arabian like an >rab. It rose and fell in the strangest way. Sometimes it was the babble of a child, sometimes the Incoherent tar ing of a fanatic, sometimes the lofty dreams of a prophet and phllosoohor. There wer? times when his stories of demons, of miracles, of dreams, and of omens were such as an old woman might tell to please the children of an evening. There were others when, as he talked with shining face of k?s converse with angels of the inten tions of the Creator, and -the end of the universe. I felt as If I were in the company of some one more than mortal, some one who was Indeed the direct messenger of the Most High.” —Sir A. Conan Doyle In Scribner’s Magazine SELF-FEEDERS SAVE HAY AND CONSIDERABLE LABOR According to Tests Made at Colorado Experiment Station Folly 20 Per Cent, of Feed Is Wasted by Old Method of Feeding. Self-feeder racks for supplying i roughage to sheep or cattle are not | only the means of saving considerable labor, but, according to tests made at the Colorado experiment station, are the means of saving a great deal of hay. One lot of lambs at this station were fed whole hay in a self-feeder I rack and another lot whole hay in racks on the ground, such as are in common use in many sections of the country. The average gain of these two lots was practically the same, the lot feeding from the self-feeder averaging only one pound heavier than the others, says the American Agriculturist. Also, the grain con sumed varied but little, being only nine pounds more for a 100-pound gain in the first lot than in the sec ond. The great saving came in the cost of roughage. The lot eating from the self-feeder consumed 601 pounds of hay for each tically 20 per cent, in favor of the self-feeder racks. It makes a differ ence of 42 cents in the cost securing each 100 pounds of grain. These re sults were secured on alfalfa valued at $5 per ton. With a higher price the difference would be corresponding ly greater. These self-feeding racks cost $1 per running foot completed. They had the ordinary capacity of four lambs per running foot, two on each side, not so much space being required at a self feeder as at an ordinary rack, since all the lambs will not eat at one time. As already stated, the saving in this one experiment amounted to 42 cents per 100 pounds of gain. This is equal to about 14 cents on each lamb. Count ing four lambs per running foot, this would make a saving on one season's operations of 56 cents. In other words, the rack would pay for itself in two years. It is thought that when a type of self-feeder is developed for handling Popular Type of Grain Trough. 100 pounds of gain and those eating off the ground consumed 733 pounds of hay for each 100 pounds of gain. This indicates a difference of prac chopped hay better results may be se cured from it than have hitherto been possible, by reducing the waste caused by wind. RUSSIA GAINS IN FARMING Prevailing Impression That Little Progress Is Made in That Country Is Erroneous—Series of Readings Gratis. i By J. B. SNODGRASS * The impression generally prevails that, although Russia is most gen erously favored by nature, little prog ress is being made in agriculture. This Is erroneous. As an illustration of the interest that is being manifested along these lines, and as indicative of the pro gressive policy that has been adopted and is now being pursued, it may be cited that the Imperial Agricultural museum. In its endeavor to popular ize the study of agricultural subjects, has for the last few years conducted gratis, at the museum in St. Peters burg. a series of systematic readings on agriculture for the benfit of every lne interested. In addition to this course, popular lectures are delivered and special readings conducted for men In the lower ranks of the army. In the experimental department of the museum the taking apart and putting together of various machinery is demonstrated by trained mechanics. Agricultural machinery in motion is also demonstrated and the use of ag ricultural implements is explained: experiments are also made with all classes of farm machinery, such as locomobiles, winnowers, sorters, and the like. In separate departments are demonstrated the fertilization of the fish spawn and the development of the chicken in the incubator. The attendance at these lectures has been uninterruptedly increasing from year to year. For the past four years the attendance has been: 5,093, 17,SOS, 32,442, 60,346; showing great increase. The lectures are delivered in the evening from seven to nine and on Sun day from two to three p. m. The prac tical work and excursions are conduct ed by prearrangements between the lecturers and the students, such as trips to exhibitions and farm in the suburbs, and even to stockyards and slaughter houses. Likewise the special classes pass through practically everything per taining to plant culture, stock raising, poultry raising, bee culture and dairy farming, with all that pertains to the latter, such as butter and cheese ma king. In the present scholastic season the courses of the systematic lectures will embrace the following academic sub jects: Elementary chemistry, element ary anatomy, physiology of plants, improvement and cultivation of the soil, agricultural meterorology, agri cultural economy, seeds, agricultural implements, cattle raising, swine rais ing, etc. On Sundays it is intended to con duct popular public readings and lec tures on a variety of agricultural sub jects. Care of Ewes. Every precaution must be taken to keep big ewes with lamb from crowd ing through doors or the food troughs. EAR MARKS FOR LIVE STOCK BIGHT. SICE. FRONT VIEW. LEFT SIDE. For the numbering of polled cattle, sheep or swine to make identification sure the marking of the ear is the most satisfactory method. A system of this sort is necessary in keeping a record of registered stock. The key to the numbering is as follows: A notch in bottom of left ear equals 1; two notches equal 2. A notch in top of left ear equals 3; two notches. 6; three notches. 9. A notch in bottom of right, ear equals 10; two notches equal 20. A notch In top of right ear equals 30; two notches. GO; three notches. 90. A notch in end of left ear equals 100. A notch in end of right ear equals 200. A hole on end of left ear equals 400. A hole in end of right ear equals 500. A hole in bottom of left ear equals 1.000. EXERCISE FOR WINTER EGGS Of First Importance for Laylnj Fowls as It Keeps Flock in Healthy Condition—Hard Scratching Needed. "Regular exercise is of first impor tance for laying fowls," says Prof. J. G. Halpin. head of the poultry depart ment of the College of Agriculture of the I'niversity of Wisconsin. “Regu lar exercise increases bodily vigor and vitality and keeps the flock in a healthy condition. In addition it aids in maintaining a vigorous appetite, which assures the use of food with maximum returns. "The most effective method of com pelling hens to take exercise is to sprinkle grain in fresh, clean litter and thereby force the birds to scratch for their food. Abundance of litter is necessary and a lot of hard scratch ing to get a small amount of grain will do the birds no harm. On warm, dry. winter days clear a space on the south side of the hennery, place some clean litter on the ground and mix the grain with this. The exercise out of doors will do them great good and result in larger production. ‘ Following the day on which they have had plenty of exercise scratching for food, the hens should be liberally fed with a mash so that they go upon the perch at night with full crops A hungry hen cannot lay many eggs but she should not be stuCTed so earlv in the day that she loses interest in working for her living.” Draft Horses. Draft horses are suitable for rais ing on level land, while lighter horses and mules are best adapted to hilly farms. Horses designed for the sad die and road use will develop activity and stamina on rough and hilly pas ture land while they are young Destruction of Forests. The total yearly drain on our for ests. not counting losses by fire, storm and Insects, is estimated to be about 20,000,000,000 feet.