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.
