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About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 4, 1913)
BY I JOHN BEECKEMQBGE ELLIS ILLUSTRATION S BY' o-erwin-mfes ✓% SYNOPSIS. I ran arrives nt Hamilton Gregory's home In l.lllloburg. but Anils him absent cmuhtctlng the elmlr al a ramp meeting. Hhe repairs Ihltber In search of him. laughs during the service and Is asked to*! leave. Abbott Ashton, superintendent of schools, escorts Kran from the tent, lie ’ tell* her Gregory Is a wealthy man. •I eply Interested In chnrttv work, and a | pillar of the church. Ashton becomes greatly Interested 111 Krnn and while tak ing leave of het. holds tier Imnd and Is seen hy Snpphlra Clinton, sister of Koh ert Clinton, chairman of the school hoard Kran tells Gregory she wants a home Will! him. brace Nolr, Gregory's private secretary, takes a violent dislike to Kran and advises her to go away at onee. I'Yan hints at a twenty-year-old secret, and Gregory In agitation asks Grace to leave the room. Kran relates the story of how Gregory married a young girl at Springfield while attending college and then deserted tier. Kran Is the child of thal marriage. Gregory had married Ids present wife three years before the death of Krnn’s mother. Kran tukes a liking to Mrs. Gregory. Gregory explains that lYan is the daughter of a very dear friend who is dead. Kran agrees to the story. Mrs Gregory insists mi tier making her home with them and takes her to her arms. Kran declares the secretary must go. Grace begins nagging tactics In an effort to drive Kran from the Gregory home. Abbott, while taking a walk alone at midnight, finds Kran on a bridge tell ing her fortune hy card*. She tell* Ab bott that she Is the famous lion tamer. Kran Nonpareil. She tired of circus life and sought a home. Grace tells of see ing Kran eome home aftet midnight with a man. She guesses part of the story and surprises tile rest from Abbott. SU" decides to ask Bob Clinton In go to Springfield to Investigate Kran's story. Kran enlists Abbott In her battle against Grace. Kran offers her services to Greg ory ns secretary during the temporary -ihs'-noe of Grace. The latter, hearing of Kran's purpose, returns and interrupts a touching seen- between father and ■laughter. Kran goes fishing with Mrs Gregory's brother. Abbott, whose reten tion as superintendent. Is to he decided tti.al day. finds her sitting stone In a buggy. He joins her and Is discovered bv Clinton and his sister. CHAPTER XV.—Continued. Kran snatched up the whip, and leaned over as if to lash the empty shafts. She had suddenly become the child Again. "We must drive out or * Sure-Enough Country, now. Time to get hack to the Make-Believe World." She stood up, and the lap robe fell about her like green waves from which springs a laughing nymph. Abbott still felt stunned. The crash of an ideal arouses the echo—"Is there no truth in the world?” But yes — Fran was here, Fran the adorable Fran," he pleaded, "don't drive out of Sure-Enough Country. Walt long enough for me to tell you vvha' you are to me.” "I know what l am to you." Fran retorted -"Git ap!" "But what am I to you? Don't drive so fast - the trees are racing past, like mad l won't leave Sure-Ertough Coun try until I’ve told you all You shall! No. I'll not let you take this whip—” *‘I will take It—let go-Kran! Bless ed darling lYan- -" * She gripped the whip tightly, lie “We Must Drive Out of Sure Enough Country, Now." couid not loosen her hold, but he could keep her hand In his. which was just as well. Still, r semblance of struggling was called for. and that is why the sound of approaching wheels was drowned in laughter. ‘Here we are!" Fran cried wickedly —‘'Make-Believe World of Kvery-Vhty, and seine of its inhabitants , A surrey had come down the seldom . used road—had Miss Sapphira fol lowed Abbott in order to discover him with Fran? The suspicion was not just, but his conscience seemed to turn color —or was it his face? In fact, Fran and Abbott were both rather red caused, possibly, by their struggle over the whip. SCIENTISTS TELL OF THE SEA Some Facts Not Generally Known, But of In *re*t to the Man Who Admires Nature. Not only Is the sea the reservoir lato which alt rivers mu. but it is the ctstern that finally catches all the rain that falls, not merely upon its own surface, hut upon the surface of the land and upon the roofs of our houses. It has been calculated that ->acb year a layer of the entire sea fourteen feet thick is taken up into the clouds. This vapor is fresh, and, if all the water could be removed in the same way, none of It being re turned. there would, it is figured, be left a layer of pure salt SSO feet high on the bed of the Atlantic. These fig ures are based upon the assumption that three feet of water contain one inch *f salt, and that the average depth of the ocean is three miles At a depth of about S.5dfi feet the temperature is uniform, varying hut little between the poles and the equator. The colder water is below la many deep bay* the water begins I On the front seat of the surrey were Miss Sapphira and Bob Clinton On the back seat wus Simon Jefferson whose hairy hand gripped a halter fastened to a riderless horse; the very horse which should have beep bet ween the Bhafts of fhe Gregory buggy Miss Sawihira stared at Abbott, speechless. So this is what he had meant by wanting the air unstrained by window-screens. Studying, indeed! Abbott, In his turn, stared speechless ly at the led horse. Bob Clinton drew rein, and grr.sped his hav-colored mustache. Inadequate to the situation. He glanced reproach fully at Abbott; the young fellow must know that his fate was to be decided this very night. Abbott could not take his fill of the sight of Simon Jefferson whom he had fancied not far away, eyes glued on cork, hands in pockets to escape mos quitoes. sun on back, serenely fishing. He had supposed the horse grazing near by, enjoying semi-freedom with his grass. Now it seeing! far other wise. Miss Sapphira had even had him telephone Bob to bring her hither. With his own hands he had dug his pitfall. Fran, suddenly aware of her ridicu lous attitude, sat down and began to laugh. Bob Clinton inquired: "Taking a drive. Abb?" Miss Sapphira set her heavy foot upon her brother’s unseemly jocular ity. ’’Unfortunately.” said Miss Sap phira, speaking with told civility: "Mr. Jefferson had to come clear to I town before he could recapture the j horse. We were giving him a lift, and had no idea—no idea that we should find—should come upon— We are sorry to intrude." Had her life de pended on it. Miss Sapphira could not have withheld a final touch—"Pos sibly you were not looking for Mr. Jef ferson to come back so soon." “Why." answered Abbott, stej'.ping to tlte ground, “hardly so soon." At any rate, he felt that nothing was to be gained by staying in the buggy. "Is that the horse that belongs to this buggy? Lei me hitch’it up. Mr. Simon.” “This has been a terrible experience for mo." growled Simon. AH the same, he let Abbott do the work but not as if he meant to repay him with grati tude "What was the matter with your horse, anyway?” Abbott cheerfully in quired. Simon looked at him sourly. -Didn’t Fran tell von that the horse got scared at her throwing rocks at my cork, and broke from the tree where I'd fastened it. abd bolted for town?" Mr. Simon.” said Fran innocently. T don’t believe the horse was men tioned once, while you were gone.” "It would be interesting to know what was." remarked Robert with humor so dry that apparently It choked hint; he fell to coughing huskily. Miss Sapphira gave him a look while he was struggling in his second par oxysm. It healed him by suggestion. “Turn.'’ said Miss Sapphira with be coming gravity. Robert, still under Die influence of her thought-wave, sol emnly drove, her from the scene. \\ hen the last buckle was clasped— ”1 came out here for a quiet peaceable Ashing." said Simon. ’Tvi spent my time hunting horses, and being afraid something might happen to Fran " "Mr. Ashton took care of me,” Fran said reassuringly. Simon cried explosively. “And who took care of him?" He ^imbed in be side Fran nnd begrudgingly offered Ab bott the imaginary space of a third occupant; but Abbott declared his preference for strolling. "This has been a hard day for my heart.” Simon grumbled. as he snatched up the whip vindictively. The buggy rolled away, j ’’Mine, ’oo." Abbott called after them emphatically. Fran looked back at him from ever the lowered top. He saw her hand go to her bosom, then somethin* fluttered in the air and fell in the grassy road He darted after it as if it were a clue! showing the way to the princess’ cas tle. Perhaps it was. He pounced upon it—It was the queen of hearts to free re at the bottom before it does at the surface At that depth waves are not felt. The force of waves Is In proportion to their height. It is said that the sea strikes upon certain rocks with the force of seventeen tons for each squarfc yard The pressure of water increases with the depth. One mile down this pressure is reckoned at more than a ton to the square inch—in other words, more than 133 times the pres sure of the atmosphere The depth of the sea presents tome interesting considerations. It. it is claimed by one authority, the Atlantic ocean were towered €,5M feet, it would be reduced to half Its present width. If ; it were lowered a little more than three miles the result would be dry land all the way between Newfound land and Ireland. If the Mediter ranean were towered ««# feet, Africa j ^ould be Joined to Italy, and three separate seas would remain. Wins Rich Husband, j A pretty girt, a bit of banana peel j a gallant young man to the rascne, and CHAPTER XVI. A Tamer of Lion*. The life of a household progresses, usually ny insensible gradations, to ward some great event, some climax, for the building of which each day has furnished its grain of sand. Today. Hamilton Gregory and Grace Notr were In the library, with nothing to iudicate the approach of the great mo ment in their lives, it was Grace's impatience to drive Fran away • ven before Robert Clinton should bring the secret from Springfield, that pre cipitated matters. "May I speak to you. Mr. Gregory?" She rose from the typewriter, slightly pule from sudden resolution. Gregory never missed a movement of his secretary, but now he lifted his head ostensibly, to make bis observa tion official. "It's about Mr. Clinton." said Grace in a low voice, feeling her way to "that Fran.” 1 He laid down his pen with a fro»n. Suddenly l.is missions In New York and Chicago became dead weights. Why Grace's "Mr. Clinton” instead of her customary “Brother Clinton?" It seemed to equip the school director with formidable powers, Gregory has tened to put him where he belonged. "Oh! Something about Bob?" he asked casually. Her look was steady, her voice humble: "Y'es.” Her humility touched him profound ly. Knowing how unshakable were her resolutions, he made a desperate attempt to divert her mind: “That is settled. Miss Grace, and it's too late now to alter the decision, for the school board has already voted us a new superintendent—he has been sent his notification. Abbott Ashton is out ot it. and it's all his fault. Bob was the only one to stand up for him. but he wasn't strong enough to hold his friend above the wave of popular opin- ‘ ion. Don't ask me to interview Bob for Abbott Ashton." Grace calmly waited for this futility to pass; then with an air suggesting. "Now. shall we talk sensibly?" she re sumed. "i approve the action of the school board. It did well in dismiss ing Professor Ashton. May I ask r.bout Mr. Clinton? He urges me to marry him at once." "Nonsense!" he exclaimed. "It is not nonsense/’ Grace calmly responded. "He thinks I could make him a better man. We would work among the very poor in the Chicago settlements; maybe it. one of your own missions. I often wonder tf 1 couldn't do more good by personal contact with evil, than I can here with a person like Fran always clog ging my efforts." He started up "Grace! You go away?—And—and leave me and my work?v » "Let Fran till raj position You think she’s the daughter of your boy hood friend—it would give her posi tion and independence." "No one can ever fill your place." Gregory claimed, with violence His cheeks burned. lambent frames gleamed in his bro w a eyes The ef fect was startlingly beautiful. At such exalted moments, thinking no evil be cause ceasing to think, grown all feel ing, and it but an infinite longing, the glow of passion refined his face, al ways delicately sensitive. The vision of Grace, in giving herself to another, like a devouring fire consumed tnose temporary supports that held him above the shifting sands of his inner nature. “Grace! But Grace! You wouldn't marry him!” * Because site found his beauty appeal ing to her as never before, her voice was the colder: "Anyone's place can be filled." “You don't care!” he cried out des perately. •" j "For Mr. Clinton? Yes. I admire his j persistence in seeking God. and his J *ish to wotk for mankind. God comes I easier to some than to others and f believe 1 could help—” Gregory, aghast at her measured tone, interrupted: -Bhi i mean that you don't care—don’t care for me ..^r she ***“ abruptly, men added in an odd whisper, “for you*" ' ther* you have lhe ingredi euta of the romance. That’s the way it happened Us the i case of fighteen-year-old Rita jacobs ! of 9 w est One Hundred and Twelfth i street, the prettiest o! a bevy of pret > ty sisters, and *Billy" Wallace, a wealthy merchant of Salisbury. S C. > It all happened way down in South * S,ar°‘iaa a Utle roore than a year ago 1 Cupid, disguised as a hnngry ciUien. r tossed the banana peel in front of Miss ; wbo visiting friends in Salisbury. She slipped, but never felL t The strong arm of her future husband ' KM U»«re in the nick of time. » A few days later they left town and s got married without telling anybody f Now they're planning to go back to i the Sunny South. Meanwhile, thev're r at home at 134 West One Hundred and -j Sixteenth street—New York Ameri j can. M i Cruel and Inhuman. “How dare you advertise that you do painless dentistry?” 'Did I hurt you, miss?” "Absolute torture. sou talked for five minutes at a time when 1 I couldn't interrupt”—Puck. ' (COPYRIGHT 1912 ^ EOBB5-MERRILL CO.) "Yes, for me . . . don’t' care liow much 1 suffer, or whether I suf fer at all—I mean my work, if it suf fers. If 1 lose you, Grace—’’ "Oh, you will always have Fran.” "Fran!” he ejaculated. "So you don't care, Grace ... it seems in credible because I care so much. Grace!” His accent was that of utter despair. “How can I lose you since you are everything? What would be left to live for? Nobody else sympa thizes with my aims. Who but you un derstands? Oh, nobody will ever sym pathize—ever care—” "But, Mr. Gregory!” she began, con fused. Her face had grown white. "Grace!” he caught her hand, expect ing it to be snatched away—the hand he had hourly admired at its work; he could feel its warmth, caress its shape liness—and it did not resist. It trem bled. .He was afraid to press it at tirst, lest it be wrenched free; and then, the next moment, he was clasping It con vulsively. For the first time in her life. Grace did not meet his eves “Grace!" he panted, not knowing what he was saying, “you care, I see ! you care for me—don't you?” "Xo," she whispered. Her lips were dry. her eyes wide, her bosom heaving. Boundaries hitherto unchangeable, were suddenly submerged. Desperate ly, as if for her life, she sought to cling to such floating landmarks as duty, conscience, virtue—but they were drifting madly beyond reach. "But yon can't love him, can you?” Gregory asked brokenly. Grace, with closed eyes, shook her head—what harm could there be In that confession? “You won't go away, will you. Grace?" he pleaded, drawing her closer. She shook her head, lips still part ed. eyes still closed. "Speak to me. Grace. Tell me you will never leave me.” Her lips trembled, then he heard a ! faint "Never!" Instantly neck and i brow were crimsoned; her face, al- ! ways superb, became enchanting. The dignity of the queen was lost in the woman's greater charm "Because you love me!" cried Greg- j ory wildly. "I know you do, now, I ; know you do!" His arm was about j her. "You will never leave me be- i cause you love me. lx>ok at me. I Grace!" It seemed that her eyelids were held I down by tyrannous thumbs. She tried to lift them, and tried again. Her face was irradiated by the sunrise glow of a master passion. Swiftly he kissed her lips, and as she remained motionless, he kissed her again and again. Suddenly she exclaimed blindly: "Oh. my God!" Then she threw her arms about him. as he drew her to his bosom. It was at that moment, as If Fate herself had timed the interruption, that Fran entered. There was a violent movement of mutual repulsion on the part of Hamil ton Gregory and his secretary. Fran stood very still, the sharpness of her profile defined, with the keenness of eyes and a slight grayness about the lips that made her look oddly small and old. Fran was a dash of water upon raging fire. The effect was not extin guishment, but choking vapors Be wildered, lost to old self-consciousness, i it was necessary for Grace to readjust herself not only to these two. hut to j herself as well. Fran turned upon her father, and pointed toward his desk. "Stand there!" she said, scarcely above a whisper. Gregory burst forth in blind wrath: "How dare you enter the room in this manner? You shall leave this bouse at once, and for ever. ... I should have driven you out long ago. Do you ! hear me? Go!" Fran's arm was still extended. "Stand there!" she repeated. Quivering in Helpless tury. ue stumbled 10 his desk, and leaned up i oil it. His face burned; that of O.race , ! Noir was ghastly white "Now. you.” said Fran, her 'oice fibrating as she faced the sectary, "go to your typewriter!” WpRTHY OF EMPIRE BUILDER | Cecil Rhodes’ Magnificent Tomb Near Spot Which Was Scene of His toric Meeting. After Cedi Rhodes death, on March 26, 1902, his body was taken to the Matopos hills in South Africa and in terred there near the spot known as World s View. By the terms of his will the land adjacent was set aside as a burial place for men who had de- ' served well of South Africa. The Rhodes tomb is near the spot where he had his famous meeting with the chieftains of the Matabele tribes on August 24. 189« At that time the Matabeles were about to go ; to mar against the British, and Rhodes, fuly aware of this, rode into , their territory, accompanied by only two men. The risk that he took was enormous, but the result fully justified it. When the Matabeles heard of his coming their chiefs sought him in his i camp and laid their grievances before him. He promised to do what he could to have them righted “Now. is it peace or war?" he - Grace did not move. Fran's eyes resembled told stones with jagged points as her steady arm pointed: "Go! Stand where 1 tell you to stand. Oh, I have tamed lions before today. You needn’t look at me so—I'm not afraid of your teeth ” Grace’s tear was not inspired by dread of exposure, but by the realiza tion that she had done what she could not have forgiven in another. But for the supreme moment' she might never have realized the real nature of her feeling for her employer. She stood appalled and humiliated, yet her spirit rose in hot revolt because it was Fran who had found her in Gregory’s arms. She glared at her defiantly. ’’Yes,” said Fran somberly, “that’s my profession. Hop-taming. I'm the ■World-Famous Fran Nonpareil.' Go to your typewriter, Grace Noir, I say— Go!” Grace could not speak without fill ing every word with concentrated hate: “You wicked little spy. your evil nature won’t let you see anything but evil in the fruits of your eaves dropping. You misjudge simply be cause it would be impossible for you to understand." “I see by your face that you under stand—pity you hadn’t waked up long ago.” Fran looked from one to the other with a dark face. “I understand nothing of what you imagine you know,” Grace said stam meringly. “I haven't committed a crime* Stop looking at me as if I had —do you hear?” Her tone was pas sionate: "I am what I have always been—” Did she say that to reassure herself? “What do you mean. Fran? I command you to put your suspicions in words. ’ “I have had them roar at me before today," cried Fran. “What I mean is that you’re to leave the house this day.” “1 shall not leave this house, unless Mr. Gregory orders it. It would be ad mitting that I've done wrong, and I am what I have always been. What you saw ... I will say this much, that it shall never happen again. But noth ing has happened that you think. little impostor, with your evil mind . . . I am what I have always been. And I'm going to prove that you are an Im postor in a very short time." Fran turned to Hamilton Gregory. “Tell her to go," she said threatening ly. “Tell her she must Order it. You know what I mean when I say she must go, and she needn’t show her “But You Can't Love Him, Can You?" Sregory Asked Brokenly. claws at me. I don’t go into the cage without my whip. Tell her to go.” He turned upon Fran, pushed td ut ter desperation No—you shall go!” he said between clenched teeth. •Yes!"-exclaimed Grace. It was a hiss of triumphant hate. Fran lost control over herself 'Do you think, knowing what I know, that I’ll stand quietly by and see you dis grace your wife as you disgraced . . . Do you think I’ll let yon have this Grace Noir for your . . to be the third— Do you think I’ve come out of your past-life to fold my hands? 1 tell you plainly that I’ll ruin you with that secret before IH let you have this »om»a” <T< > BE CONTINUED > asked, and the chiefs, as one man, cast their spears on the ground, signifying that they were for peace. While riding away from the scene of this historic meeting Rhodes is said to hare remarked to his companions: "It is such things that make life worth living." Glass ii# Japan. It is only during a comparatively short time that the Japanese have glass as occidentals know it- When the first railroads were built, passen gers !u the coaches often put their beads through the glass, supposing the frames of the windows to be pasted pictures on the glass to call attention to the fact that a solid sub stance was behind them. The masses of the Japanese today do not know the mirror as it is known in the west. The richer people have one mirror, indeed, bat usually the glass used in the mirrors sold to the popu lace is not quicksilvered, being mere ly well polished. As tor cut glass, it is practically unknown in the island, and glass drinking cups are rare.— Harper's Weekly. FARMERS OVERSTOCK THEIR PASTURE LANDS I_L_ ____ Cattle Being Fattened on Forage From Which Farmers Will Derive High Prices. <By M. rOVERDELU Through that thief of time, pro crastination, carelessness, and a zeal to keep every hoof of live stock pos sible—ninety-nine out of every one hundred farmers overstock their pas ture lands, and by the time the most trying portion of the season comes on. their stock are without sufficient pasturage to keep them in even fair shape, and while the detrimental ef fect of such management is most no ticeable on dairy cows, it is prac tically the same with all other stock, since it stunts them in their growth by depriving them of proper nourish ment for a most important part of the season. Another very discouraging feature of such a course, is. live stock that thus have been deprived of ample pas turage during the summer season, will be in poor condition to meet the rigors of winter, for, once they fall oft in flesh at this season, there is not apt to be any more luxuriant growth of grass spring up that year, with the result that the animals not only are unfit to start through the winter, but they will consume more high-priced grain and roughage, and yet not regain the loss of flesh sus tained by poor or insufficient pastur ige at the proper season. It is imperative, then, that the farmer do one of two things: Dispose of his live stock till he has only what his pasturage will keep in prime shape through the entire season with out taxing it to the limit, or continue to sow forage crops to supplement his pasture till the latter part of July. To those who think this too late to sow such crops, we would state that we have sown as late as August and the crop not only made a good growth for pasturage, but reached a height that made it a most desirable winter roughage. With proper man agement, such as crop might be util ized for light grazing early in the fall: then mown for roughage, but. of course, one must be governed in each ease by conditions. One of the most commendable fea | tnres of sowing crops for late sum mer and early fall pasturage. Is, that ! in many cases they can be grown where some other crop has failed earlier in the season, or the first growth has ripened and been re moved from the field. Where wheat or any other small grain shows that it will not make a first-class grain ?rop, it should be harvested just as soon as possible—either bound or mown and stacked for winter rough age. The field may then be sown any Df several crops, and will produce an abundance of excellent grazing in a very short time. Spots which were | too wet or too dry at regular plant ing-time may be utilized to a good advantage in this manner. One can even well afford to cut a few rows of corn near the pasture-lot, toss It over the fence to the stock, and sow some sort of a catch-crop on the ! ground from which it was taken. i Then, there Is sure to be some parts of such pasturage left in the soil, and this will serve as a fertilizer to off set the double drain on the land. As to the different sorts of crops that may be sown for this late pas turage, one must be partly governed by such agencies as weather condi tions, conservative handling of the soil, rapidity of the crop’s growth, etc Data will make a rapid growth and fine pasturage, but if the lateness of the season makes it risky to sow them on account of early frost falling, they should not be sown, as frost ruins them the first time it touches them t0 any great extent. Millet would not develop quite as rapidly as oats, but it is not so pervious to the dam aging effect of frost, and for this rea son it is liable to prove quite satis factory in the majority of cases. Cane and kaffir com are also excM >nt for pasturage, but should be sown or drilled very thick, so that the plants will grow up in a crowd ed condition, which causes them to be small, tender and juicy for pas turage. Rape will make a quick i growth, and is excellent as pastur age. especially for hogs, sheep and ! cattle. Wheat or rye will also make good pasturage, but both are some what slow of growth in the earlier stage of their development, which is apt to throw them too late for this season's grazing The cost of these seeds is also to be taken into coo sideration, as they are higher than most others. However, either of these plants will form the finest of pastur age early next spring. All of these forage crops will reach a stage of A New Currant. Samples of the new currant. Red Cross, hare been received from Green’s Nursery company, who add: “On our grounds at Rochester, N. T. the Red Cross entrant is as large aa Cherry or Fay. Its peculiar advan tage over either of the above varieties is that it makes twice the growths having made from IS to 24 inches from last fall set plants up to July 1, The fruit is often so dense upon the stalks as to hide the canes entirely *rom view; jolor bright red; berries growth that will admit of their being used as a supplementary green feed during the shortage In pasture, and where this method is practiced, such spots or fields should be chosen as near to the regular pasture lands as possible, so that the product may be cut or pulled and thrown over the fence to the animals, without haul lng it out. This will in many cases prove more satisfactory than any other plan, since one can feed prac tically the same amount every day, and by gauging this amount accord lng to the number of live stock he is pasturing, the condition of the pas ture growth, etc., this supplementary' feed may be made to last much long er than If the animals were given free range of it. UNUSUAL SUCCESS IN RAISING PLANTS Beefsteak Fed Occasionally to Ferns and Palms Brings Good Results. ‘By ALICE MAY DOUGLAS.) A friend who has unusual success in raising ferns and palms has given me her secret She feeds them beef steak occasionally. Abont every six weeks she plants a bit of raw meat close to the roots and it is literally eaten up. Some of our potted ferns were droop ing so I hastened to try the new plant food. A single dose of the steak brought them back to health and their growth since has been surprising. Then in pure curiosity I experimented with some outdoor ferns last summer, and after a few weeks I dug up the place to see how the meat and plant were getting on together. 1 found the decaying steak literally ciuched by innumerable roots that had en twined themselves about it like so much wire. How hungry they seemed. It is said to be a common thing for people living along the gulf coast to feed oysters to their ferns and palms. This wonld be somewhat ex pensive for as poor inland people, but they frequently buy a load of shell-fish as we buy coal, simply dump ing them in a pile in the back yard and keeping them alive by occasional dousing with salt water. Watering the plants with nnsatted beef tea has also been successfully tried by my neighbor. Hearing these things, "How little we know of our house-mates, the fern family! Who would have dreamed that they, too. have carniverous tastes? Could they have caught it dwelling so near our dining tables." Advantages of Press Drill. During the past two years we have frequently called attention to the ne cessity of thoroughly compacting tin ground for wheat—and. In fact, an.' crop—especially when the season promises to be dry. The last bulletin of the Iowa experiment station cor roborates these statements. Adjoining ' plats were seeded to winter wheat and giTen similar treatment, except that one was seeded with a common drill and the other with a press drill. Threshing returns showed that the plat seeded with a press drill yielded at the rate of 541* bushels per acre, while the common drilled plat yielded only 44 bushels. A similar test in 1854 gave a yield of 48 bush els for the press drill and 30 for the common drill. The press drill com pacts the soil over the seed, the mois ture is retained, and a more vigorous plant results. Soil Renovation. The cowpea is a wonderful reno vator of soil, the value of which is not yet generally recognized, even in the south, where It has been most largely grown and experimented with. At the Louisiana station (bulletin 401 63 v* rieties have been tested. For vines and tor green manuring f&e best vs rieties are the Unknown, Black, Clay and Red. while the strictly bunch v* rieties. Whippoorwill, Blue, Blackeye. etc,, give larger returns in peas Shade of importance. The importance of shade for the fowls during the hot summer months cannot be overestimated- The best method is to plant fruit trees in the poultry yards, as this will furnish ijpuif as well as shade set in compact cluster, with long steu* of which to pick. This is the first variety introduced of a large number of seedlings, the result oi scientific crosses by the veteran hy bridist, Jacob Moore, originator of the Brighton grape. Diamond grape Bartlett Beetle pear and other new fruits” The quality is fine. -% Irrigation in Australia. Australia to irrigating more thaa 2. 0®6,0®# acres of grating lands oath artesian media