; . . . . . .ra : ; - - . ' . 0-- . . . . _ . . . . _ " " - . . . kX'c : ; _ _ . . . _ _ _
. . , . .r" . _ . . '
: : ' + 4" " ' - - / " * * ' ;
i < , . .
r'
. . : . ' : . \ \ ' - \ * \ \ \ . \ .
'
: , . " CQ\lS\\Vl\\OU
, I . 1 11ay te ve W QeOVe , CO"\
- \y 'QtO\Je\ ' Q''o.Qi.5 1 We o.S'
. slstelteoXe \ QWly \ \1e\\ tc \Q\
: . \o.xo.\\ve \e.m : v .S ' OS\\ \ i \ c &YIt tr
a 4- ; , . o Se11lC ( ; \ \ C\lQ 'ks C\\e ' 0 \ ) . miuo.r
; : , \ia\i\\s \ < kiysoliQLassistance " \ rotate ,
r I . j max ; be t grcducSSty ( Sspexise&vv
: , III 1 wne.\\ . \\0 \ Q't er ueededlasie3ssX < \ oj }
: i I rcmedixesfoxuecpTedt : \ axe \oass\sX :
i I I x\a\\xceCKidviC\ su p - \ < \ \ \ \ , " ' etlatum ( \
I ; ; nCItottS , tv \ 1GitUSt . .e.l3eul \ & -
: I I . ' mQ eyl 1 Cole ! ux\s\vme\v\ > : \ ,
' ; V\'c r ejjo ts.o.\\d > t\ ; ' 1 \\v\\\g \ tWto.\\y.
i Iogcft bct\eS\ tc \ \ alcjectsulwasbaythe , , . . . . Mt' & , , .
, ( nprr "ACTU"CO D" n .c
CALIFORNIA
FIG SYRUP Co.
_ SOLD BY ALL LEADING DRUGGISTS
' . I ! CESIZEOHLY- RECULAR PRICE SO * PER BOTTLE : : !
.
- . . FASHION HINTS
l'
/
I
i , S '
.
r
pf , i ; ' " 'a rs9
t f' '
I
; '
'
P
l -
, i , l
. , "
1 , v' " pS
_ _ : r
I , I .
_
! . ' '
9
i
r . - . - eT"ici "
. . - . III RI. l' '
I i't I , : : : :1 ; ; ' , )
'
I \ ! : ; 't I t\ \
: :
, I
'
,
: pl N
. i '
qI I :
I 1 ' I
I , I ' . '
,
I t
, I.1 . . ' ' r
, '
t 'j (
: ri ' ! -
! - -
' . , ; 1 -
,
'
'j
I if
'I ' 11
! Something that's just housey , and yet
_ _ . _ not belonging to the wrapper family , is a
rI
. . little hard t o find. The house gown shown
' If ! . Jiere : is a pretty solution of the problem.
Inexpensively developed in silk muslin , it i
I' ' is charming. If a warmer gown desired ,
1\ \ a - It would be very pretty in one of the fancy
, . : , chalhes.
I EASTMAN'S EFFECTS SOLD.
.
1 .r
J
I , I. ) I Property of 3Irs. : Woodill's Slayer
i I : : Purchased as Relics.
: I ; All of the personal effects of the
II , . I . I late / "Lame Bob" Eastman , the mur-
derer of Mrs. Edith May "Woodill , and
. iimself a suicide , were sold at auc-
: tion the other day in Easton , Md.
They were auctioned off by an attor-
ney for Mrs. Lavinia Eastman , the ad-
- ministratrix. There was a large at-
- tendance and the bidding was hrlskj ;
many of the articles bringing several
. times their real value , many persons
wanting them for keepsakes. East.
" '
, man's motor boat , in which Mr .
Woodill took her fatal ride to his bun-
I galow , brought $285 , and went to
George B. Taylor. The oars belong-
ing to his boat were bought by Neil
Shanahan at three times their value.
Other articles sold were the revolver
. .
s with which Eastman killed himself , a
. barrel of alcohol , and his dishes and
furniture , all of which brought good
, . prices as relics of the double tragedy. .
I The crowd came in autos , carriages
and launches.
'
At a Philadelphia factory a leather
, belt has been turned out which Is 150
.
. ' feet Jong by five feet wide. It requlr
s : ed 300 hides In Its manufacture.
f .
CHILDREN SHOWED IT.
" Effect of Their Warm Drink In the
" Morning.
I : "A year ago I was a wreck from .
coffee drinking and was on the point
of giving up my position in the school
room because of nervousness.
"I was telling a friend about it and
: she said , 'We drink nothing at meal
i time but Postum , and it is such a
I I comfort to have something we can
i ! enjoy drinking with the children. '
P "I was astonished that she would
' , ; I allow the children to drink any kind
, , : of coffee , but she said Postum was the
i c " most healthful drink in the world for
I children as well as for older ones , and
. i that the condition of both the chil-
. I
dren and adults showed that to be a
f
. fact.
'
I fact.My first trialv was a failure. The
, I
; cook boiled it four or five minutes and
' 1 .4 it tasted so flat that I was in despair
1 { but determined to give it one .more
hi trial. This time we followed the di-
r . . ' , . rections and boiled it fifteen minutes
; j.1 ' ' ' . . . . after the . . It
: boiling- began. was a de-
: f ) : cided success and I was completely
Ij11 I ; ' : won by its rich , delicious flavor. In a
,1 I , 1 ? : . ( . : " ' . short time I noticed a decided im
.
J ' J " " . provement in condition and
' 1 " my kept
, ! '
.
; . 'r
J'r J- growing better and better month after
1 1 , , month , until now I am perfectly
t I L . ; ' " healthy , and do my work in the school
f 1 ; " _ room with ease and pleasure. I would
t a , I L J -1- ' . ' not return to the nerve-destroying !
1'- i . ' regular coffee for any money. " [
.f : Read the famous little "Health Clas-
; p ' , ' ' - . . " " "The Road to Wellvllle " in
J . , / . J " . sic , , pkgs , ,
. I..c / ' , . _ , \ . I . "There's a Reason. "
' ' ' "
j' } 0' Ever read the above letter ? A
t l * , . "r - new one appears from time to time.
1 J . 't'S . true and full .1
I' . ' ' . They are genuine , , .
1 t 1 . ° human interest.
!
:
\ ij , /
J. .
, dq !
,
t
- . - --r . - : . - . . . - - , - - : : : : : - . - - - = - - ; : . . . - . : .
-
-
_ . . " . ' . " " . . ' . . ' . . . > . , w . . . , . . . \ , . . . - , - " .
i
The edemptiotJ .
.1 vid
. . \ eorsorll
By CHARLES FREDERIC GOSS I
l '
Copyright , 1900 , by The Bowcn-Merrill Company. AH Rights Reserved . ! .
- - - - . A.-- A , . . . . . . . _ - - . . . . . " . . . - . . _ , . . . A . . . _ - " - _ --i _ ! a J
-
, .
' .
i
CHAPTER VI.
Early the next morning the two ad-
renturers took their departure. The
jovial quack lavished his good-byes
upon the landlord and the "riff-raff"
who gathered to welcome the coming
or speed the parting guest at the door
of the country tavern. He drove a :
pair of beautiful , spirited horses , and :
had the satisfaction of knowing that
he excited the envy of every beholder ,
as he took the ribbons in his hand ,
swung out his long whip and started.
If her husband's heart was swell
ing with pride , P peeta's was bursting
with anxiety. An instinct which she
did not understand had prevented her
from telling the doctor of her inter
view with the Quaker. Long before
the farmhouse came in sight she be-
gan to scan the landscape for the fig-
uro which had been so vividly Im-
pressed upon her mind.
The swift horses , well fed and well
groomed , whirled the light wagon
along the road at a rapid pace and as
they passed the humble home of tho
Quaker , Pepeeta saw a little child
driving the cows down the long lane ,
s.nd a woman moving quietly among
the flowers in tho garden ; but David
himself was not to be seen.
A tear fell from her eye , and her
chin quivered. With the utmost effort
of her will sho could not repress these
evidences of her disappointment , and
with a spasmodic motion she clutched
the arm of the driver as if it were
that of Destiny and sho could hold it
back. So sudden and so powerful was
the grasp of her young hand , that It
turned the horses out of the road and
all but upset the carriage. Yrith a
violent jerk of the reins , the astonish-
ed driver pulled them back , and ev-
claimed with an oath :
"You little wild cat , If you ever d-d-
do that again , I will throw you into :
the d-d-ditch ! "
"Excuse me ! " she answered humbly ,
cowering under his angry glances.
"What is the matter ? " he asked ,
more kindly , .seeing the tears in her
eyes.
"I do not know. I am nervous , I
I
i iess , " she answered sadly.
"Nervous ? P-p-peeta Aesculapius
nervous ? I thought her nerves were
made of steel ? What is the m-m-mat-
ter ? " he asked , looking at her anx-
iously.
His gentleness calmed her , and she
answered : "I am sorry to leave a place
where I have been so happy ! Oh !
why cannot we settle down somewhere
and stay ? I get so tired of being al-
ways on the wing. Even tfae birds
have nests to rest in for a little while.
Are we never going to have a home ? "
"Nonsense , child ! What do we want
with 'a h-h-home ? It is better to be
always on the go. I want my liberty.
It suits me best to fly through. the
heavens like a hawk or swim the deep
. ea like a shark. A home would be a
p-p-prison. I should tramp back and
forth in It like a polar bear in a c-c-
cage. B-b-be gay ! Be happy ! How
can you be sad on a morning like this ?
Look at the play of the muscles under
the smooth skins of the horses ? Re-
member the b-b-bright shining dollars
that we coaxed out of the
tightly b-b-
buttoned breeches pockets of the gray-
backed Q-Q-Quakers. What more do
you ask of life ? What else can it g-g-
give ? "
"It does not make me happy ! I shall
never be happy until I have a home , "
ehe said , still sobbing , and trying to
conceal the cause of her grief from
herself as well as from her husband.
She had divined the cause of her
disappointment with an unerring in-
stinct. It was exactly as she thought.
At the last instant , David's heart "had
failed him.
On the preceding evening , he had
hurried through his "chores , " excused
himself from giving an account of the
adventures of the day on the ground
of fatigue , and retired to his room to
cherish in his heart the memories of
that beautiful face and the prospects
of the future. He could not sleep. For
hours he tossed on his bed or sat in
the window looking out into the night ,
and when at last he fell into an uneasy
slumber his dreams were haunted by
two faces which struggled ceaselessly -
to crowd each other from his mind.
One was the young and passionate
countenance of the gypsy , and the oth-
er was that of his beautiful mother
with her pale , carven features , her
snow-white hair her
] , pensive and un-
earthly expression. They both looked
at him , and then gazed at each other.
Now one set below the
horizon like a
wan , white moon , and the other rose
above it like the glowing star of love.
Now the moon passed over the glowing
star in a long eclipse and then disap-
pearing behind a cloud left the bril-
liant star to shine alone.
When he awoke the gray dawn
re-
vealed in vague outline the realities : of
the world , and warned him that he had
but a few moments to execute his
plans. He sprang from his couch
Btrong ! in his purpose to depart , for
the fever of adventure was still burn-
ing in his veins , and the rapturous
looks with which Pepeeta had received
his promise to be her companion still
made his pulses bound. He hurriedly
put a few things into a bundle and
stole out of the house.
As he moved quietly but swiftly
iway from the familiar scenes , his
heart which had been beating so high
; rom hope and excitement began to
jink ! In his bosom. He had never
lr amed of the force of his attach-
ment to this dear place , and he turned
ils face toward the old gray house
igain and again. Every step away from
It seemed more difficult than the last
md his feet became heavy as lead. But
he pressed on , ashameJ to acknowl-
sdge his inability to execute his pur-
yaN. H . came to tlae : last fence which
, 7"
i
, -
- - -
. .
, . : . ! '
lay between him and the bridge where
he had agreed to await the adventur-
ers , and then paused.
He was early. There wa.s still time
to reflect. Had the carriage arrived
at that moment he would have gone ;
but it tarried , and the tide of love arid
regret bore back to the old famil-
iar life. "I cannot go. I cannot give
it up , " he murmured to himself.
Torn by conflicting emotions , inclin-
ing to first one course and then anoth-
er , he finally turned his , face away
from the bridge and fled , impelled by
weakness rather than desire. He did
not once look back , but ran at the top
of his speed straight to the old barn
and hid himself rom sight. There ,
breathless and miserable , he watched.
He had not long to wait. The dazzling
"turn-out" dashed into view. On the
high seat he beheld Pepeeta , saw tho
eager glance she cast at the farm
house , followed her until they arrived
at the bridge , beheld her disap1 > oint-
ment , raved at his own weakness ,
rushed to the door , halted , returned ,
-rushed back again , returned threw
himself upon the sweet smelling hay ,
cursed his weakness and indecision
and finally surrendered himself to mis-
ery.
From the ' utter wretchedness of that
bitter hour , he was roused by the ring-
ing of the breakfast bell. Springing
to his feet , he hastened to the spring ,
bathed has face , assumed a cheerful
look and entered the house.
For thefirst time in his life he at-
tempted the practice of .deception , and
experienced the bitterness of carrying
a guilty secret in his bosom. How he
worried through the morning meal and
the prayer at the family altar , he never
knew , and he escaped with inexpressi-
ble relief to the stable and the field to
take up the duties of his daily life. He
found it plodding work , for tho old in-
spirations to endeavor
had utterly van-
ished. He who had hitherto found toil
a beatitude now moved behind the
plow like a common drudge.
Tired of the pain which he endured ?
he tried again and again to forget the
whole experience and to persuade him .
self that he was glad the adventure
had ended ; but he knew in his heart
of hearts that he had failed to follow
the gypsy , not because he did not real-
ly wish to , but because he
did not
wholly dare. The consciousness that
he was not only a bad
man but a cow-
ard , added a new element to the bit-
terness of the cup he was drinking.
Each succeeding day was a repeti-
tion of the first , and became
a painrful
unrest. The very world in which he
lived seemed to have undergone a
transformation. The sunlight had lost
its glory , the flowers had become pale
and odorless , the songs of the birds
dull and dispiriting.
Some men pass their lives In the
midst of environments where insincer-
ity would not have been so painful ;
but in a home and a
community where
sham and hypocrisy
were almost
un-
known these perpetual deceptions be-
came more and more intolerable
with
every passing hour. Nothing could
be more certain than that in a short
time , like some foreign substance in a
healthy body , his nature would force
him out of this uncongenial
environ-
ment. With
some natures the
experi-
ence would have been
a slow and pro-
tracted one , but with him the termina-
tion could not be long delayed.
It came in a tragedy at the close of
the next Sabbath. The day had been
dreary , painful and exasperating be-
yond all endurance , and he felt that he
could never stand the strain of anoth-
er. And so , having detained his moth-
er in the sitting room after the rest of
the family had retired , he paced tho
floor for a few moments and
, after
several unsuccessful attempts to intro-
duce the subject gently , said bluntly :
"Mother , I am chafing myself : to
death against the limitations of this
narrow life. "
"My : son , " she said , calmly , "this has
not come to me as a surprise. " ,
He moved uneasily and looked as if
he woc'U ask her "Why ? "
"Because , " she said , as If ho had
really spoken , "a mother possesses the
power of divination , and can discern
the sorrows of her children , by a suf-
fering In her own bosom. "
The consciousness that he had
caused her pain rendered him incapa-
ble of speech , and for a moment they
sat In silence.
"What is thy wish
and purpose , my
son ? " she asked at last , with an effort
which seemed to exhaust her strength.
"I wish to see the - world , " he an-
swered , his eye kindling as he spoke.
"I have seen it in my dreams. I have
heard its distant voices calling to me.
: My spirit chafes to answer their sum-
mons. I strain at my anchor like a
jreat ship caught by the tide. "
"Shall I tell thee what this world of
vhich thee has dreamed such dreams ]
is really like my son ? I will , " she
aid ; , regarding him with a look which
, seemed to devour him with yearning
ove. " "This world whose voices thee
icars : calling is a fiction of thine own
n-ain. That which thee thinks thee
eholds of glory and beauty thee hast
onjured : up from the . depths of u
outhful and disordered fancy , and
rojected into an unreal realm. That E
, vorld which thee has thus beheld in
hy dreams will burst like pln-prlck-
; (1 bubble when thee tries to enter it.
It is not the real world ; my son. How s
hall I tell thee what that real world
is ? It is a snare , a pit-fall. It is i a I
lame into which young moths are ever I
ilunging. It promises , only to de-
rive : ; it beckons , onlr to betray ; its
miles are ambushes ; it is sunlight on
he surface , but ice at the heart ; it b
ffers . life , but it confers death. I bid
hee fear It , shun It , hate it'I !
,
\
- . , . . ' .
. , ,
. . - " r. ,
.
. . . . . . "
-
"Mother , " he exclaimed , "what flow
thee know of this world , thee who has
asd
passed thy life in lonely places and
amongst a quiet people ? "
She rose and paced the floor as If tc
permit some of her excitement to es-
cape In physical activity , and pausing
before him , said : "My : only and well-
beloved son , thee dois not kn/iw thy
mother. A veil has been drawn over
, that portion her life which preceded
thy birth , and its secrets are hidden in
her own heart. She has prayed God
that she might never have to briii ; ;
them into the light ; but he has im-
posed upon her the necessity : : : : : of open-
ing the grave in which they are buried ,
in order that , seeing . .them thee may
abandon thy desires to taste those
. pleasures which once lured thy mother
along the flower-strewn pathway to
her sin and sorrow. "
Her solemnity and her suffering pro
duced in the bosom of her son a namE- :
less fear. He could not speak. He
could only look and listen.
"Thee sees before thee , " she contin-
ued , "the faded form and features of
a woman once young and beautiful.
Can thee believe it ? " >
He did not answer , for she \ had
seemed to him as mothers always . do
to children , to have been always what
he had found her upon awakening to
consciousness. He could not remem-
ber when her hair was not gray. Some-
thing In her manner revealed to the
startled soul of the young Quaker that
he was about to come upon a discov-
ery that would shake the very foun-
dation of his life ; for a moment he
could not speak.
"David , " she said , in a voice that
sounded like an echo of a long-dead
past , "the fear that the sins of thy
parents should be visited upon thee
has tormented every hour of my life.
I have watched thee and prayed for
thee as no one but a mother who has
drunk the bitter cup to its dregs could
ever do. I have trembled at every
childish sin. In every little fault 1
have beheld a miniature of the vices
of thy mother .and " thy father-thy
father ! Oh ! David , my son-my son ! "
The white lips parted , but no sound
issued from them. She raised her
white hand and clutched at her throat
as if choking. Then she trembled
gasped , reeled , and fell forward into
his arms.
In a moment more , / the agitated .
heart had ceased to beat , and the se-
cret of her life was hidden in its mys-
terious silence. The sudden , inexplica-
ble and calamitous nature of this event
came near unsettling the mental bal-
ance of the sensitive and highly or
ganized youth. Coming. as it did upon
the very heels of the experiences which
had so thoroughly shaken his faith in
the old life , he felt himself to be the
target for every arrow in the quiver
of misfortune.
( To be continued. )
1 Vot ] to Be Trapped.
"Concede nothing , " was the advice
of a well-known politician concerning
a certain famous disputed election.
His policy was followed to the letter by
the man of whom the Chicago Trib-
une tells. On the relief train that
had been rushed to the scene of the
railway wreck was a newspaper re-
porter.
The first victim he saw : was a man
whose eyes were blackened and whose
left arm was In a sling. With his hair
full of dirt , one end of his shirt collar
flying loose and his coat ripped up
the back , the victim was sitting on
the grass and serenely contemplating
the landscape.
"How many people are hurt ? " asked
the reporter , hurrying up to him.
"I haven't heard of anybody being
hurt , young man , " said the other.
"How did this wreck happen ? "
"I haven't heard of any wreck. "
"You haven't ? Who are you , any.
how ? "
"I don't know that It's any of your
business , but I'm the claim agent of
the road. "
A Man of His Word.
Tom-Lend me $10. I'll pay you
next week.
Dick-That's what you said last
week.
Tom-Well , you don't want me go
ing around and telling you one thing
one week and another thing the . next ,
do you ?
A Talking Machine.
Brother-How did you > like my I
friend , Mr. Smith.
- Sister-Why , he yawned three times
while I was ; talking to him.
Brother-Perhaps he wasn't yawn
ing. He may have been trying to say
something.
"Up to Him.
Stern Parent-So you would be will.J J
ing to die for my daughter , would you ?
Ardent Suitor - I would , indeed !
Stern Parent All right , then. Get
rour life insured for $20,000 and make
ood.
A Parting Shot.
Doctor-Your : case is a very serious
me : , sir , and I think a consultation
lad better be held.
Patient Very well , doctor ; have as
nany : accomplices as you like.
In Fashion.
Crawford-So your wife doesn't
nake : mince pies any more ?
Crabshaw-No. She uses all the
idds and ends around the house as
rimmings : for her hat.-Puck.
Generonn Johnny. ;
l\1inister-Johnny , do you know
rhere little boys go that go fishing on
; Sunday ?
Johnny-Sure. Follow me an' I'll
how you.
A Foregone Conclusion.
"Everybody thinks that Amelia Is
uch a sweet girl , and I can't see it. "
"You can't ? Why , man , her father
lade ! a big fortune in the sugar busi- a
Ile55 . "
Ready for Trial.
"The charge is desertion. Whafll I
be your defense ? "
"Temporary insanity , or I : JHver I
ould have married her.
\
-
- - - - - -
. .
. ' . ( ' . - . ' . . ' ; : . . . . . : . . . ' . .
I
{ )
A t
Q
- - , - : - . . . . J& : - ; " " j. .
-
J . c ' . . . .J.14tl'f1i:1t1"j j .JiI\ ,
.
- . , 'it . - - .
To Fatten Chic1 ' .
. An excellent mixture for fattening
I I broilers is made as follows : One
i i hundred pounds of finely : ground bar-
ley ( , 100 pounds of finely ground corn ,
100 pounds of finely ground oats , with
hulls sifted out , and 30 pounds of beef
scraps. Buttermilk or skim milk is
used for mixing. The birds are fed
three -times a day at intervals of four
hours , and are kept on this diet for
three weeks. Another ration is made
of 100 pounds of ground oats , 100
potfnds of ground corn , 50 pounds of
Wheat flour and 4 pounds of tallow , to
be 'nixed with milk.
Best "Wheat for Bread.
It is a well recognized fact that the
flour from. the hard spring wheats of
the Northwestern districts will pro
duce a large , well-piled loaf of bread
of excellent quality , and because it ab-
sorbs a lot of water It also gives a
good yield of bread. These are desira
I ' ble qualities and naturally explain
I why this class of flour is so popular
for bread making , says the Bakers'
Weekly.
The softer winter wheats do not
contain so much gluten and do not
!
make so large or to many people so
desirable a loaf as the spring wheat
flours. Yet a good , palatable loaf of
bread can be made , and is being made
every day , from this class of flour.
- -
Breeders' Prospects Arc Bright. ;
It has been years : since the prospect
for brisk sales of pure-bred stock ; : : of
all kinds were as bright as now. There
have been times in the past when cat
tle sales were good and hogs were ,
slow , or vice versa , but this fall both
are wanted by prosperous farmers
who have the money to pay for what
they buy. Pure-bred horses especially
mares , axe 'also in great demand , at
good prices. If there ever was a time
I . when it will pay to let the public
know what you have to sell , that time
will certainly be this fall. The av-
erage Southwestern farmer now fully
understands the value of pedigree , fol't
lowed up with individual merit , and
he pay good prices to get a start in
? ood stock. - Mall - and Breeze.
- -
Pnenmntic Millc Can.
A recent invention is a dairy milk
can which may be , filled at the dairy ,
hermetically sealed and kept in this
condition until the contents of the can
are removed at the place of sale. This
result is effected by the use of com-
pressed air in the can , which forces
out the contents as needed. The corn-
Dressed air is sterilized , and every-
thing about the milk is kept perfectly
clean.
There is no danger from , contami-
nation ; : by exposure to dust and dirt , or
flies or other insects. It is impossible
to change or adulterate the contents
of the can in any way from the time
it leaves the dairy until the contents
'have been placed in the consumers'
hands.
This can is locked , and no liquid
can be pumpad into it without break ; : :
ing the lock and removing cover.--
Scientific American.
Saving Seed.
Look after the saving of seed from
the best specimens of tomatoes , cu-
cumbers , squash and other vegetables ,
and when they are perfectly dry place
In glass jars so they will be free from
the depredations of mice. Label the
Jars with the name of the variety and
the year grown and if there Is any
Item you wish to remember connected
with a certain kind or variety make
a note of it and place with the seeds
while the fact is fresh in your mind.
Seed should also be saved of peas ,
beans and sweet. corn , as these are
so bulky and cost so much to buy.
Where there is danger of weevil , it
prould be well to place a little bi
sulphide of carbon in the vessel con-
taining the peas and beans , cover
tightly and leave a few hours before
removing the seeds to the receptacle
they are to be kept in over winter.
Phis will destroy the weevil , but will
not hurt the germinating qualities of
the peas.-Agricultural Epitomist.
Chemical Action of Humus.
By the action of humus , minerals
in [ [ the soil are changed to plant food.
Likewise } It retains nitrogen in the
; oil - the most valuable ingredient and
the : ; most , costly fertilizer. to buy. Hu-
nus is the home of beneficial bacteria
md it retains moisture.
The land should be deeply plowed , r
50 ; as to allow the humus to get deeply
nto the soil , for it is then that it
jives the greatest benefit to the long
oots. In soils here in the East it is
; seldom that humus is found more than s
iight Inches below the surface , . while
In California it is quite frequently
Hscovered eight feet below the sur-
ace , making the latter soil vastly
icher than that of the East.
Deep plowing will encourage tree
oots to grow more deeply : , which is
L point of economy , as the deeper c
he : root of the tree , the less fertilizer
dll be required upon the surface , and
he more food will be brought up from
he : depths. Another good reason for
lowing ) ( : an orchard deeply is to break
my Bbell or hard pan that very oftea
'
"
forms a short distance below the sur
face , and which has tendency . to
prevent water from soaking down.
Vnlae of Till.i0c.
The limit of production of an acrfr .
of land is measured as much by the
capacity of the man who tills it as
by the capacity of the soil Itself to-
produce a large crpp. There are few
farmers who till one-half acre of soil
In a manner that will produce the
best and most profitable returns. As
a rule the average farmer has a vague
idea of the value of tillage and proper
fertilization. Through the feeding of
the plants a soil may be rich or poor , ,
just as the farmer plans his rotation
and cropping system.
Many farmers have been handi
capped because they have been taught " . . . : t" " ' :
that clover and other members of the - H
legume family were the only means
of increasing the nitrogen content o * '
their soils. Of course they are the
best , and in many instances the most
satisfactory means of adding available-
nitrogen to the soil , but there are mil
lions of root bacteria awaiting to feed
upon root , stem or organic matter 1
that may be turned under and make 1p p
available nitrogen for another plant.
Agricultural Epitomist. . _ _
"Whole Millc \ nnd Cream.
Here is the comparative cost of haul-
Ing whole milk , as against conveying-
cream alone , as figured out by a dairy-
man from his own actual experience '
with both methods. Cost of hauling
whole milk : Twenty-weeks , five deliv-
eries a week , five hours a day , with
Heavy wagons , time of man and team
valued at 20 cents an "hour , $100 ; thir-
ty-two weeks , three deliveries a week ,
five hours a day , with heavy wagon ,
time of man and team valued at 21 >
cents an hour , , $96 , making the totaJ
cost of delivering whole milk $196 for
I the year. Cost of hauling cream only :
Twenty weeks , three deliveries a week , ,
two and one-half hours a day , with
light wagon , time of man and team
I valued at 20 cents an hour , $30 ; thir '
ty-two weeks two deliveries a week , ,
two and one-half hours a day , v. th
light wagon , time of man and tea
:
valued at 20 cents an hour , $32 , mak- v
ing the total cost of delivering cream. .
only $62. This/means a yearly saving-
through hauling cream only of $13 ; .
This difference is great enough to pay
for a separ , r and have , in addition ,
$44 clear gaiif the first . .
year. It Is >
high time to think of these things in
these days of costly labor and in-
creased expenses. - Denver Field and !
Farm.
A New Sheep JOlsense.
The -officials of the Bureau of Ani-
mal Industry have a new field of ac-
tivity through the announcement of a.
new disease discovered among the-
" }
sheep of Wyoming known as the Iir .
and leg disease. The complaint 1 -
known among scientists as necroba r i :
losis , but with the advent of the ail-
ment in Wyoming It was nicknamed
lip and leg disease , because of the
parts : of the animal affected. It has
no relation with the hoof and mouth
disease which raged in a number o $ '
the Eastern States during the past .
year. Officials of the Department of1
Agriculture say they are at a loss to
know how the disease became so wide-
spread in Wyoming , as so far ae-
known it was not brought here from.
any other country. It Is probable , .
they explain , that a single animal
came into contact with other cattle la
transportation , and that the others be-
came infected in the cars where slight ,
scratches of the skin are almost un-
avoidable.
By Secretary Wilson's orders eight
counties of Wyoming have been placed
under stringent quarantine , which ef -
; S
fectively shuts off trade In cattle from 1 tt t ,
the infected counties. The counties-
under the ban lie in the section where- ,
most of the Wyoming sheep are raised.
Shredded Stover. '
For winter feeding of stock anlrna . . . . . .
this makes one of the finest feeds : : on r
the farm. The modern husking and
: shredding machinery does excellent
work , and its man-eating proclivities
lave been largely eliminated. An ordi-
aary threshing machine can be made-
to : do good shredding , but the grain
ls : not left in the best condition. The
g reatest drawback In the use of both ,
ausker and thresher
is that -
-
they re-
juire large force of men and teams .
lence the work Is quite expensive.
Perhaps the cheapest corn husking Is-
lone with a little old. ' husking peg. ; ;
3ut it is almost impossible to feed long-
itover without considerable waste , and' , ,
the : refuse stalks are a nuisance : whea- : Ii ' ;
it comes to handling the manure. '
hese [ difficulties may be - '
overcome by-
unnlng the hand-husked stover
1 '
hrough : a common cutter and I.
shred- t , .
ler. This work can usually be done- , -
: without employing much If any. out- '
Ide help. In case everything Is hired , ; a :
he : cost of the work , added to that
of , hand-husking : and putting of ths- i I "
orn and stover In crib '
and mow or
tack : ; , may equal or even exceed the
xpense of machine husking and sftred-
Ing. [ This is a point for each tv de-
ide from his own standpoint. 1 .
ultural Epitomist.
. r.
Over one million exiles have been. .
ransported to Siberia since 1840. . .
The available Iron supply of th. . - . L t }
toited States is estimated at / 4,715 > - { ! ,
00,000 long - ton * . - : ' it
r J
;
. } }
, I' i '
I
)
1.
I _ .
