The Red Cloud chief. (Red Cloud, Webster Co., Neb.) 1873-1923, August 09, 1889, Image 3

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    Km
&$5&&ggM&&&d
SSSSIafiSsgssssBas
afcgag&tgEB wf lk
hi
V
EED CLOUD CHIEF
A. C HOSMEtt, Proprietor.
KED CLOUD. - . . NEBRASKA,
BEYOND THE HILL."
"Long, long aijo, when life was sweet
And days with lore and hope replete.
I lited where shade and sunshine meet.
Beside a rill.
I used to paze. with wondering eyes.
Away to where the bill-tops rise
Where, bending low. the purple skies
Caressed the hill
The blue rim or the aorizoa.
The vaulted skies at rest thereon,
And over all. the yellow sun
Poured mellow light.
My fancy, with a strange unrest.
Went often to Jhe far-off crest
Of hilla low-lying toward the west,
With eager flight.
What strange new things beyond might bide!
My woi Id so narrow that, how wide !
What was it on the other side?
' I questioned still.
Till one sad day, my restless feet
Went out across the meadow-sweet-Went
gayly out, the world to greet.
Beyond the hilL
How long I journeyed where I left
The blue hills which the distance cleft.
Or how, or when, of hope bereft,
I do not know.
The way led through a weary night,
And o'er my spirits fell a blight;
The path grew rough and chill and white
With frost and snow.
It seemed the time was years and years.
The way. through leagues and leagues of tears.
And I, beset with doubts and fears
And longings Tain.
The world I found was wide and cold.
And hard and selilsh; fame Bor gold
Could comfort me: and I grew old
Through grief and pain.
Butsometimes through my tears would rlM
Strange visions of those purple skies
And wooded hills and golden dyes
That knew no chill;
And comforting my wild despair.
A low voice whispers: 'Over there
Is life and love, and rest from care
Beyond the HilL"
Nellie W. McVey, In America,
JESSICA'S MARRIAGE.
It Occurred Many Months Before
She Met Her Husband.
Jessica Wynne had waving brown
hair, merry dancing eyes, red lips, al
ways parted over small white teeth, a
round waist and a bright, fresh com
plexion; she was barely seventeen, a
perfect edition of the pocket Venus and
the possessor of a fair portion. These
were her assets, against which stood
the facts that she lived in a quiet coun
try house in Wales, that she had
neither father nor mother, and had
been since her babyhood the charge of
a widowed, childless aunt, blessed with
a philanthropic turn of mind and more
solicitous of sparing labor to her lady
helps than of contributing to the pleas
ures of her niece. However, on the
whole, the odds were in favor of the
girl, who, being gifted with a fearless.
independent uature, contrived to make
the most of opportunities, and as she
grew up became the acknowledged belle
Kiof the country side. Her reDutation ex-
i Ttended as far as Cardiff and Brecknock
'and no county or garrison ball was
- deemed a success unless Miss Wvnno
was present. She was escorted to these
festivities by some obliging chaperon,
to whom Mrs. Polsover trusted her,
sometimes for a couple of days at a
stretch, with many recommendations
as to propriety and deportment
One never-to-be-forgotten day 'Jes
sica was invited by eome acquaintances
she had met at Cardiff, and who had
taken a great fancy to her, to spend tw
months with them in London immedi
ately after Easter. The girl passed a
week in a delirious joy of prepara
tion and anticipation; she dreamed of
triumphs which would eclipse those of
the little Welsh belle, of intoxicating
delights, of parties, balls, Hurlingham,
Sandown, the New Club, theaters, of
all the places "She had read of in the
society papers; and, looking at the
pretty face in the glass, she even hoped
that it might be her proud fate to see
her name in print as "the lovely Miss
Wynne' in some glorified paragraph.
Colonel and Mrs. Tressillian, her
future hosts, were a fashionable middle-aged
couple, addicted to a good
deal of wandering over Europe in
quest of health and amusement, but
generally occupying a fine house in
South Kensington during the season,
where they entertained liberally both
their compatriots and foreigners,
whenever they were not themselves
being entertained.
Jessica Wynne returned to Wales at
the beginning of July. If Mrs. Pols
over had been observant she might
have noticed a shadow in the laughing
brown eyes, a certain compression in
the scarlet lips. She vaguely observed
that the girl was unusually reticent
about her London experiences. "Yes,
London was very gay plenty of things
going on, of course; lots of fine gowns,
good music. O. yes, heaps of concerts,
too many of them.' "Had she en
joyed herself?" "Of course; how
could she help enjoying herself in
London during the season?" and an
swers to that effect.
The truth of the matter was that the
popular little Welsh belle had been
sorely neglected in London. She found,
to her indignant dismay, that her
beauty, wit and repartee remained un
appreciated; with increasing choler
she soon remarked that other maidens
as fresh and fair as herself shared her
ignominious obscurity. Her conscious
ness, which was not conceit, told her
that she was sacriGced to rivals less
fair, less clever, and, above all, less
young; she realized that one and all of
the successful queens of society were
odious married women fast, bold, ex
acting, tyraunical matrons, who mo-,
nopolized the attentions of the men.
She saw those uprincipled creatures
surrounded by their courtiers at the
play aad at the races; they were asked
to dinners, picnics and balls, and when
poor little Jessica did get a card for a
dance the entertainment painfully re
minded her of the breaking-up festivi
ties of her school, where the white
frocks so hopelessly predominated over
the black coats. Remembering all
these things, the girl set her teeth
hard, gathered her eyebrows into a
resolute frown and vowed that if she
had lost her first innings she would be
even yet with the London world.
Miss Wynne had not forgotten her
vow, or else fortune favored her. A
year later Mrs. Polsover died, leaving
half her money to the lady helps, the
other half to Jessica, who became
almost an heiress. When six months
had passed, a little paragraph appeared
in several Welsh papers containing the
following intelligence:
"We understand that the beautiful
Miss Jessica Wynne will, at the expira
tion of her mourning, return to society
as the bride of Captain Montgomery
Swift. This gallant officer, now on
leave, will, however, shortly after the
honeymoon bo compelled to join his
regiment abroad."
This announcement, shorn of local
hyperbole, gradually found its way
into the Birmingham and Manchester
dailies, and finally drifted into one or
two London papers.
Mrs. Montgomery Swift took a charm
ing furnished house in Mayfair, kept a
perfectly appointed brougham and vic
toria, procured her toilets from Paris
aad forthwith became the rage. Her
gowns were copied, her repartees
quoted, her five o'clock at homes
crowded. She gave neither dinners nor
parties, availed herself of a few of the
introductions obtained through the
Tressillians, who were abroad; with
charming impertinence and pretty
audacity dropped all the people she
considered bores, and plunged into the
maddest whirl of social dissipation.
American girls gnashed their teeth
with envy when the little "grass
widow" carried off their most hopeful
admirers, dowagers frowned, young
matrons nursed their lips, mothers of
marriageable daughters were bitter,
but Mrs. Montgomery Swift heeded
them not, and reveled in her popularity.
"Who the deuce is Captain Swift,
and where does he hang out?" queried
a guardsman of a fellow warrior part
ing from Jessica, when she re-entered
her carriage after her daily walk in
the park.
"Who cares a big D for the husband
of a pretty woman?" was the flippant
answer. ''He's somewhere on the gold
coast, or in India, or at Suakim, she
tells me; he might be dead and buried
for all I care only it's much safer to
know there's a husband somewhere;
and, to do the little woman justice.
although she flirts to the nines, she
does drag the captain in pretty freely;
and even were he to mount guard over
her like a watch dog, he wouldn't find
much to make a rumpus about."
"No," said the other, reflectively,
pulling his mustache; "it's a case of
Canute and the sea 'just so far and
no farther.' She's a ticklish one to
deal with. I don't quite make her out"
"She does pull a fellow up pretty
short sometimes, that's a fact; but she's
awfully jolly no confounded sentiment
about her not like those old stagers
who run you in before you know where
you are. She's rare fun. by Jove!"
and ho smiled with retrospective en
joyment. For once the verdict of clubs, mess
rooms and smoking rooms was just;
Mrs. Montgomery Swift's morals were
unimpeachable. Without ostentation
she frequently alluded to her absent
consort retailed passages from his
correspondence, bewailed the long
exile and frequent changes entailed by
his profession, wondered how long he
would remain in those outlandish
places where wives were an impossi
bility, and occasionally reduced her
admirers to frantic despair by announc
ing her intention of joining Captain
Swift wherever he might be sent next.
When assured that such self immola
tion would be madness, she pensively
concluded that perhaps it were wiser
to await his return to civilization and
England.
Sometimesnot very often Jessica
was alone, and then she would look at
herself in the glass and smile quaintly.
"Isn't it funny?' she murmured, scan
ning her features. "I am sure I am
not quite so fresh and pretty as I was
two years ago, and I don't think I am
nearly as nice. And yet then nobody
even looked at me, while now " Her
eyes sparkled. "O. my blessed hus
band, what a service you have rendered
me! And to think that I shall never,
never be able to repay your'
Towards the middle of August, with
the abruptness which characterized all
her movements. Jessica, without a word
of warning to her courtiers, accepted
an invitation to spend a fortnight in
Scotland with a young married couple
who had taken a house on Loch Lomond
for two months. She had not been told
whether or not there would be other
guests, but she knew that the Bellunes
had the knack of making people com
fortable, and she felt just a little tired
of a surfeit of devotion, and inclined to
escape from it and rusticate in compar
ative solitude. So one morning she
found herself at St. Pancras station,
and when her maid, previous to seek
ing her second-class carriage, had set
tled her in a first-class one, with her
books, rugs and dressing bag, she pre
pared for her long, solitary journey
with restful satisfaction. However,
just as the hour of departure had
struck the door of her carriage was
violently opened, a military-looking
portmanteau and case were thrust in, a
guard exclaimed, "Plenty of room
just in time jump in. sir thank you,
sir!" and slammed the door again upon
a talL handsome man, who had entered
hurriedly, and who, as the train
steamed out of the station, looked
rather disconcerted in finding himself
tete-a-tete with a young, pretty and
elegant woman.
Before reaching Leicester the trav
elers had already exchanged a few
commonplace civilities connected with
the pulling up and down of windows,
the loan of newspapers, etc. Instinct
ively they recognized that they be
longed to the same social class; each
discovered in the other a certain in
dependent, unconventional originality,
and like strangers meeting by chance
at some dinner party, they soon began
to converse on every possible subject.
"Do you propose stopping at Edin
burgh?" said the gentleman, when,
after Normanton and lunch, they had
resumed their seats.
"For the night, perhaps; but 1 am
bound for lnversnaid," answered Jes
sica. "Ah!" with a slight start; "I have
some friends about there myself
relations."
"I wonder if they know mv friends
at the Towers?"
"The Bellunes?"
"Exactly."
"Why. Dora Bellune Is my cousin
and I am on my way to see her."
"How very amusing! Well, I had
an intuition that we should meet again
in fact, I had quite mapped out your
destiny before reaching Bedford."
"Let us hear the horoscope past,
present, future; the first will, if cor
rect, be a guarantee for crediting the
last."
"I consent to tell you what I think of
you; but only will you tell me first who
you think lam."
"Would you be offended if 1 said a
charming woman? Don't frown. I
have not said it"
"Bo serious. Am I maid, wife or
widow?"
"Not a miss, certainly," with a fine
contempt on the noun.
"Of course not, or you would not
have deigned to be even d ecently civil."
"Frankly, I am at fault now. Is it
wife? Is it widow?"
"I own there may be reason for a
doubt You see, it is difficult to be a
widow without having been a wife, and
as men don't marry girls nowadays, it
is equally difficult to be a wife. How
ever as no other status has been in
vented, I have no husband."
"And no wife, although I have been
married."
"A widower! Hum! I should not
have thought so."
"No, not a widower. I was married
without my knowledge, by mistake, in
default The newspapers married me
I heard of it in India and so persist
ently that I got a three months1 leave
only to make myself a free man once
more. I left the P. and O. three days
ago, and am on my way to the Bellunes
to ask what they were about in allow
ing their nearest relative to be labelled
all over the world as booked and done
for."
"A hard case, and one deserving of
much pity. So the indignity of wed
lock has been put upon you. Accept
my deepest sympathy."
"You may laugh, but it was, it is
odious. All the fellows out there affect
to believe it is true that I am a dere
lict husband with a family. On land
ing here I found no end of letters of
congratulation. 1 dare not show my
self at the clubs. If at first I was in
clined to treat the matter lightly, now
I am determined ftv sift the whole thing
sue the libellers, and give a public de
nial "
"To the compromising accusation of
matrimony? I would, if I were you."
"I shall," he said sternly.
They were just steaming into the
Carlisle station. Jessica remained
alone while her companion smoked a
cigar on the platform. She took ad
vantage of the gathering twilight to
rise, and unperceivod, to examine the
label on the hat box reposing in the
rack. She had some difficulty in de
ciphering it, and fell bac into the seat
as the owner of it stepped once more
into the carriage. He fancied she
looked very pale, and asked her if she
was tired. Sho did not answer at once,
but as soon as the train was fairly un
der way she said, abruptly: "Is your
name Montgomery Swift?"
"It is," he said, surprised; but glanc
ing at the hat box, which lay in an
altered position, he added: "Have you
guessed that, too, you fortune teller?"
"And you call yourself a captain?"
continued Jessica, in the same harsh
voice.
"I do. till I become a major."
' 'Impossible! There is not a Captain
Montgomery Swift in the whole British
army."
"I beg your pardon. I am that hum
ble officer."
"No. you are not; there is uo such
man in the army list there was not a
year ago."
"Possibly not at that time, for a year
ago I was Monty Gordon. Last Christ
mas a good old man, who was my god
father, died and left me all his for
tune and estates, on condition that I
should take and bear his name. I
complied, A Swift was manufactured
out of a Gordon, and yet remained a
captain. Under either appellation,
equally at your command. But now I
must ask of yourdressing-bagthe same
introduction furnished by my hat-box,
and learn by what name I can address
my traveling incognita when 1 meet
her again at the Towers." He quietly
bent over the flap of Jessica's neat
russia leather bag. but saw only the
letters "J. M. S."
"Ah," he said, "the same initials as
mine; then, interrogatively, "they
spell?"
"Jessica Montgomery Swift"
A dead silence followed. Jessica
lay back against the cushions motios
less, with a crimson flush on her cheeks
and forehead. Captain Swift felt that
some painful mystery was about to be
disclosed, and that the woman by his
side was gathering strength for a great
effort He generously repressed every
sign of curiosity and astonishment, and
waited her pleasure. ,
After a few moments she turned
toward him and spoke slowly and hesi
tatingly. "I throw myself upon your mercy.
Captain Swift; do not deny publicly to
morrow that you ever were married to
Jessica Wynne. Do not pursue those
who originated that UbeL Give me
time. I assure you that I will do my
utmost to undo what I have done."
She looked very young and fair, with
her earnest eyes and moist lashes.
"What have you done?" he said,
simply.
"Listen to me, and forgive'me if you
can. When I first came to London, at
eighteen, I found it a horrid place;
only married women were admired,
petted and courted we girls were no
where. So I made up my mind to come
back to town married; and as I had
not a husband handy they are so
scarce you know 1 invented one. 1
thought I was quite safe. I wanted
him to be an officer, because England
has such a lot of troops in places people
never go to. I looked all over the
army and navy lists to make sure I did
not choose a name belonging to any
living man; 1 christened him Mont
gomery Swift, hap-hazard; 1 put the
paragraphs in the papers. He was a
very likely sort of husband to have,
you know, and it seems so natural that
he should forever be among the sav
agesanywhere. Nobody seemed to
care about him at all; but they did for
his wife simply because she was not a
girl, and it was all working beautifully.
O, why did you turn up? Why did you
have a Swift for a godfather? Why did
he die?"
"Would it have suited you to keep
up this farce much longer?" said Cap
tain Swift, gravely, but an amused look
passed in his eyes.
"Only a little while," said Jessica,
promptly, "I intend becoming a widow
very soon some of the climates out
there are so unhealthy no one would
have asked any questions. One ac
cepts any thing in London when it is
convenient to be credulous; but if you
are that horrid man please don't ex
pose mo yet"
"Not till I am dead, eh?"
"I can't make him out dead now,"
she said petulantly; "but I will go
away, hide myself, never show my
face again."
"That would be a pity; there must
be some other way to achieve widow
hood." "Don't be crueL It is dreadful! and
I know I have been very foolish. But
really," she added, with a resumption
of her old quaint coquetry, "I can't do
more than ask your pardon."
"Yes you can; you can ask for my
advice," he said, extending his hand,
"and. on my honor as a gentleman, I
will help you to get out of this scrape."
They talked low and earnestly for
the remainder of the journey. At
Edinburgh they shook hands warmly
and parted. But neither Jessica nor
Captain Swift went to the Towers.
Two separate telegrams informed Mrs.
Bellune that her expected guests were
unavoidably prevented from joining her
party; nor did Mrs. Montgomery Swift
again gladden the hearts of her faith
ful swains by her presence at the
fashionable resorts of late summer or
early autumn.
Three months later Jessica was
walking on the seashore only a mile
distant from a pretty village near
Bagni di Lucca, looking as fresh, crisp
and fair as before her first disastrous
London campaign, only there was a
new tenderness in the dancing brown
eyes as she lifted them trustfully to
those of a tall man on whoso arm her
small hand rested.
"And so you are really, truly not
sorry that you never denied your mar
riage with Miss Wynne?" she said,
coaxingly.
"Not sorry at all, darling, as it saves
me the fuss of communicating it now,"
answered Captain Swift "I'm desper
ately glad, though, it's all settled and
done with." London Truth.
Curious Archaeological Discovery,
A curious discovery has just been
made at Vimoutiers, France, by a peas
ant living in the village of Cutesson.
He was digging in his field when the
ground suddenly gave way, and he fell
into a hole ten feet in depth. The
peasant had accidentally lighted upon
a subterranean chamber, the existence
of which was not even suspected by the
country people. On examination a
number of human bones partially pet
rified were found in an adjoining vault
constructed in the form of a circle. The
bones are of exceptionally large dimen
sions and appear to have belonged
to a race of gigantic stature and great
breadth of frame. In fact, the persons
who have studied the case on the spot
are of opinion that the bodies most
have been interred in this burial place
at a very remote period. Chicago
Herald.
m
Pickled Cherries: Select large
ones that are perfect Put one quart
of vinegar, three pounds of sugar, half
an ounce each of ground cloves and
cinnamon tied in a bag, into a porcelain
kettle and let them come to a boil. To
this add five pounds of cherries and
boil one minute. Pour into cans and
put the covers on. Good ' Housekeep
ing. A teacupful of cream improves the
flavor of asparagus, peas, beans, etc. '
it is also a good addition to chicken
gravy, and, used with sugar, makes aa
excellent dressing for puddings.
DANGER EVERY WHERE.
Eteraal YlgUaace the Fries or Ufo, Health
aad Uapaiaesa.
Danger is made to surround every
thisg nowadays. The germ theory has
peopled space, air, water and food with
micro-organisms that threaten death
or disease on every hand. If a person
were weighed down with a sense of
these dangers as be might well be if
he gave full heed to,, the warnings of
physicians, he might well exclaim,
Oh! me miserable! whither shall I
fly?" And he could Hardly fly to a
place where the microscopic germs of
death would not be present with some
warning physician.
We go to bed and behold! there is
death in the pillow. A medical journal
bids us take note of the fact that dis
ease and death lurk in the very pil
lows and bolsters on which we lay our
heads. Whether this is so or not, the
moral that is drawn from it is, good,
and that is, "bedding ought to be
opened periodically, so that its con-,
tents may bebeaten with sticks." in
France bed cleansing is followed as a
regular trade.
Then again, the hiring of clothes is
dangerous. In cities it has become an
every-day matter to hire wearing ap
parel, particularly dress suits, and
these suits are worn by men of all
sorts, of all associations, and possibly
by men who have some infectious dis
ease. If the wearer has not such a
disease, the clothing may be worn in a
place or among people where disease
germs will be taken away in the meshes
of the cloth. Costumes for masquerades
and theatricals are worse yet, for they
are more especially worn by the lowest
as well as by the highest by the vicious
and depraved as well as by the decent
and respectable; and these costumes
are rarely or never washed and are
used until they are worn out
Books, too, are dangerous. Rub the
finger over a clean sheet, and a thin
streak of dirt, perspiration and skin
cells is the result Once reading a
volume through leaves a minute de
posit on every page touched, from
from title page to finish. Sick people
leave germs of their diseases. By de
grees the hollows fill up. the oil of the
skin tinges the pages and the book be
comes dirty. Under the microscope
this detritus is nitrogenous, loose,
moist and decaying. One germ intro
duced into it will breed and produce '
millions of bacteria and these will live
for unlimited time in the rich soil that
has been gathered from a hundred
hands. It is a soil for the germs of
scarlet fever, small-pox and various ,
blood diseases. Cleanliness is not only !
next to Godliness, but it is next to life j
and health, and though the germ scare
may be overdone, yet it will produce
good results in the hands of intelli
gent people. Good Housekeeping.
m m
QUEER SALUTATIONS.
Bow People greet Each Other la Varies
Parts or the Globe.
The Hindoo falls in the dust before
his superior.
The Chinaman dismounts when a
great man goes by.
It is common in Arabia Petraea to
put cheek to choe&
In Germany brothers kiss each other
every time they meet
Germans consider it an act of polite
to kiss a lady's hand.
A Japanese removes his sandals,
crosses bis hands, and cries out: "Spare
me."
The Burmese pretend to smell of a
person's face, pronounce it sweet, aad i
ask for a "smell."
A striking salutation in the South
Sea islands is to fling a jar of water
over the head of a friend.
In some of the South Sea islands na
tives spit on their hands and then rub
the face of the complimented person.
The Australian natives practice the
singular custom, when meeting, of
sticking, out their tongues at each
other.
The Arabs hug and kiss each other,
making simultaneously a host of in
quiries about each other's health and
prospects.
The Turk crosses his hands upon his
breast and makes a profound obei
sance, thus manifesting his regard
without coming into personal contact
with its object
A Moorish gentleman rides at his
friends at a gallop, shoots his pistol,
and fancies that he has done every
thing in the line of courtesy which can
be expected of him.
An Englishman, meeting his brother
after twenty years of separation, will
say: "How do you do. Jack?" will
shake hands, and will be quite con
tented with an answering "How are
you?"
The savages of the Pacific ocean rub
each other's noses to show their friend
ship, varying this peculiar greeting by
rubbing their faces against the hands !
or feet of those for whom they wish to
show their respect and affection.
In Siam a man throws himself on the
ground and waits to see whether he
will be raised up and welcomed or
kicked away, the choice of reception
being usually made according to the
personal cleanliness of the self-abused
saluter.
A race known as the Kalmucks resort
to a salute very similar to that of the
Esquimaux. They, too, rub noses, but
before they reach the same spot they
sink upon their knees and creep to
gether, when the salutation culminates
in an energetic contact of the olfactory
organs. London Times.
A Michigan father commanded his
grown-up daughter not to go to a pic
nic, but she decided that she was old
enough to be her own boss, and she not
only gamboled under the greenwood
trees, but got married and west to
housekeeping before sight.
FARM AND FIRESIDE.
Clover should be out reasonably'
early, and especially so if the second
crop is to be saved for seed. When
the heads begin to turn brown, set the
mower to work.
Whenever boughs of trees or vines
become troublesome lop them off, no
matter what time in the season. .Cut
smoothly; don't mangle or tear or skin
the parts that are loft
A well fed pig is a lazy creature,
and is disposed to lie around the build
ing and grounds where fed; but he
should not be fed so well as to prevent
exercise. The Swineherd.
The general farmer can scarcely
raise small fruits for the market but
he does not do his duty to his own
stomach if he does not raise enongh
for his own use. And the more he
uses the better it will be for him.
Apples, pears, quinces, hard
peaches and all fruits that need soften
ing, should be cooked in water till
tender, or if thrown into boiling syrup
it will retain its shape better. Fill the
cans brimming full and add hot water
if there is not enough syrup.
Corn-Pudding: Grate the cora
from a dozen ears; season with salt,
pepper and a little sugar, add the yelks
of four eggs, two ounces of butter, &
quart of new milk. Bake in a slow
oven. When done, beat the whites of
the eggs, pour over the top and brown.
Woman's Magazine.
Because fruit is plenty and. con
sequently, cheap, it can hardly be con
sidered advisable to allow any to go to
waste. What can not be used to a good
advantage should be fed out to good
young growing stock, as by this plan a
better growth at a lower cost may be
secured. Western Plowman.
To protect sheep from the attack
of the gad-fly, which lays its eggs in
the sheep's nose, it is recommended to
tar the sheep's noses once a week.
This is easily done by putting tar on
boards in the fields where the sheep
run, sprinkling salt over it, and leaving
the rest to the sheep.
i
POULTRY ON FARMS.
If Property Maaaged the Birds Cast Be
Made to fay the Taxes.
To make poultry pay on the farm
some attention must be paid to it
Start with a good breed, give them
plenty of food and good warm winter
quarters. Leghorns and Light Brah
mas are good layers and make good
market fowls. 1 think it pays the far
mer to keep geese, ducks and turkeys
as well as chickens. Provide a winter
house for each kind, well ventilated,
with glass windows, and so arranged
that you can control the temperature
within. Thus equipped, there is no
difficulty in getting eggs when they
are highest in price. Poultry should
be fed three times a day, regularly, and
supplied with pure, clean water at all
times. A spring brook flowing through
the yard is the best water arrange
ment Give a variety of food. I find
that sunflower seed is excellent, once a
day. Corn and meat, with lime and
ashes, will produce eggs. Supply
ashes and dust to wallow in at will.
The manure from the yard is valuable
and should be carefully saved.
Turkeys are harder to manage than
chickens, as they are not so hardy and
require more care in feeding and shel
tering from rain and cold. Young tur
keys should always be shut up till the
dew is off, and during inclement
weather. After they are three months
old they will be out of danger. Ducks
and geese are profitable for feathers
and as market fowls. Wherever a pond
can be fenced in, so as to confine geese
and ducks, they should be kept They
bring good prices in market when fat.
They should be kept in a yard, with a
pond in it They thrive better, if yard
and pond are not too small than when
permitted to roam over the farm.
Every farm can support the various
fowls spoken of. without materially in
creasing the expenses, and if, properly
managed, and their products utilized,
they will pay the taxes. Cor. Ohio
Farmer.
REMEOIES FOR TREE&
Pepalar Xotleas Based Neither as Mater
Her Cesaasosi Seas.
Vegetable life is less understood by
the public than that of animals and
men. It is no wonder, therefore, that
quacks abound who prescribe their
nostrums as sagely as if they really
knew something. One of the most
common notions of these fellows is to
bore holes into the trees, and, after
inserting sulphur or some other com
pound, plug it up, relying on the flow
ing sap to take it into the circulation.
As well open a man's veins and inject
medicines into them. Trees have roots
which are their mouths, and any thing
that is good for them placed in the
soil anywhere near, these roots will
find. Repulsive and even dangerous
medicines may be forced down the
throat of animal or man, but we know
no way in which a tree or plant can be
forced to take any thing that is not for
its good. Its instinct as to that is
never at fault
There can be no doubt that coal
ashes spread under fruit trees are
often very helpful, and as they show
little or no manurial value, there is
often difficulty in explaining their good
effects. One way they help is to make
a mulch. Coal ashes are light, and
the fact that they have not much
manurial value makes them all the
better for keeping dowa grass, which
depletes the soil of the moisture that
the trees need. Three or four inches
depth of coal ashes spread under trees
keep the soil beneath moist and cool.
If they are spread on sod they kill the
grass, and this with the decaying sod
roots make a fine feeding-place for the
roots of the trees. It is probable, also,
that under this mulch the soil itself
undergoes important chemical changes,
fitting itemaniuruUelementeforabsorp
tioa by roots. -Americaa Cultivator.
l
i
i
t
i
I
ggati-p1g?o-!-MfeS jff'JLMTHfili-HSSSLf.'tSSX