HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1896-10-15, Page 6x,
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ONE LESS AT HOME.
One less at home!
Mill as the earth -born mist: the thought
would rise,
And wrap our footsteps round, and dim
OUT eyes;
But the braghtsunbeam darteth from the
skies—
One more in heaven!
One more at home!
This is not home, where, cramped in
earthly mold,
Our sight of Christ. is dim, our love is
cold
But there, where face to face we shall
behold,
Is home and heaven!
One less on earth!
Its pain, its sorrow. and its toil to share;
One less the pilgrfrn's daily cross to bear;
One more the crown of ransomed saints to
wear,
At home in heaven!
One more in heaven!
Another thought to bri"hten cloudy days,
Another theme of thankfulness and praise,
Another liuk on high our seal to raise,
To home and heaven!
One more at home!
That home where separation cannot be;
hat home where none are missed eter-
nally,
Lord Jesus, grant us all a place with
Thee,
At home in heaven!
CAPT. srRaVBreky.
BY GIUSEPPE ANTONA.
His real name was Luigi, but every.
body called him Strawberry, because of
his round. face, colored like terra cotta -
He did not mind it, however; on the
contrary, he would have preferred to see
his niokname on the ship's log -book, the
hill of lading, or the deolaratious of the
custom -house.
He never knew his mother nor his
father; he was found on the floe sand of
the beach one August morning, naked
as a fish and red like a strawberry.
Some said that he was the son of a
sea -monster; others that the tide had
been his mother. Nobody ever knew,
who he was, or where he came from
and at 12 years Strawberry found him-
self great without knowing whom to
thank or how be had happened to be of
that age.
At first he helped the fishermen to
throw their nets or string fish upon a
cord, or point wooden nails for the bot-
tom of boats, but he never seemed at his
ease upon shore. He felt that he was the
son of the sea, and intended from the
beginning to live upon it; its dark
green waves, its opaline transparency,
its silver shining enraptured him, land
he passed hours at a time, seated upon
some overhanging rock, watching the
huge waves culling in and breaking upon
the stern cliff in wasteful foam.
At 12 years he became cabin -boy, in
which capacity his dexterity was equalled
by no one. It was fine to see him sus-
pended by the teeth amid lines and cord-
age, or winding up the ship's cable with
those immense arms and legs, dispropor-
tionate to his body, which made him re-
semhle one of those great sea -spiders
which scamper away between the loose
rock and stones.
Owing to the bard life on shipboard
his body became like rubber, his skin
like parchment, his back like a camel;
his legs were lean and thin; his beard
like henio, his face large, rad and salty,
and he lacked one eye, having naught a
small iron hock in the pupil once in
throwing a buoy. That did not disturb
him much, however; the other always
remained, and for Mm that sufficed. .As
to the aesthetic side of the question, was
he not, any way, considered as a whole,
a perpetual insult to the beautiful?
Hundreds of times ho found himself
face to face with death, but he always.
succeeded in escaping, although he more
willingly believed that it was by his own
tact than by the help of Providence.
Once in the West Indies he saw his cap-
tain become pale; the boat was dancing
upon the waves Iike a signal buoy, and
Strawberry—then 15 years of age—was
the watch upon the main topsail, look-
ing out for the dangerous coast of the
shore which could be easily distinguished
from aboard. The masts cracked and the
sails flew away in shreds with, the furi-
ous bursts of wind. All at once, with a
frightful sound of lacerated wood, the
bay felt himself and the topsail hurled
into the air like two straws at the mercy
of a whirlwind. An hour later he clam-
bered aboard and related his escape to
the horrified crew. Another time he fell
from the top of the fore staysail, remain-
ing suspended in midair by a foot which
caught In the cordage.
His bones were hard, and be escaped
all and always, because there was no ane
who cared whether he lived or died, and
no one to remain behind to weep for him.
god thus from hurricane to hurricane,
out of one danger and into another,
forced to the utmost by work and pri-
vation, he came at last to be the owner
of a brigantine in partnership with an
old captain, who took charge of the ad-
ministration of affairs, while Capt.
Strawberry directed the bark and braved
the sea. Together they transacted con-
siderable business on the coast and
made money very easily.
At 30 years Capt. Strawberry had not
yet thought of love, but the salutations
and embraces which be saw around him
at arrival and departure, and which
were all for the sailors and none for the
captain, produced a certain effect.
One night a cabin-boy—a youth of 18
)'ears—disobeyed and went ashore, know-
ing full well the severe punishment that
awaited him on his return, but still with
the courage to disobey, because some-
where there upon the land bis swetheart
expected him.
"Then," said the captain, thoughtfully
to himself "teere really axis,.. such love!"
One dry tie landed alone, finished his
business and prepared to depart, return-
ing to his bark late at night, (leaving
the water in the direction of the brigan-
tine with powerful stroke of oars.
The night was splendid; one of those
nights of Sicily, wben the stars shine
and tremble like a woman's eyes full of
tears, and Capt. Strawberry rowed slow-
ly, looking with pleasure at the long,
graceful lines of his ship lying against
the clear,pearly sky,
All at once inethe silence of the night
resounded the cry of an infant. The cap-
tain looked around him not a boat was
to be Seen, and he became award that
the sound proceeded from the end of, his
skiff. Rising to investigate, be found a
girl -child beating its tiny hands and feet,
in the night breeze,' and, taking her in
hie arms, he covered her as best as he
could and' gazed upon her by the pale
light of the moon: She was beautiful.
and healthy and had the voice of a
marine guard.
thoughf, whjoh, to him seemed a
entelinee idea, flashed through his mind,
and looking again earnestly at the child,,
be said to himself "This will be my
wife!"
He reasoned in this wiser "Without
me the child would have been dead; I
instead will case for hes, and will keep
her as if she were mine, and wben she
is grown and asks nee of her mother I
will say to her: 'I am your another; you
live because of me; you owe all to rail'
And she will love me, will love ma peas
ionately, because I will be the only .~man
to whom she will owe allegiance, and
she will not notice niy ugliness!"
In a few words he had created himself
a vele), brought her up according to his
pleasure, and when the opportune mo-
ment arrived married her.
And as he planned so he acted; carry-
ing the child to his country, where he
gave her into the charge of a peasant
woman who had another baby; tarrying
patiently till she became a woman that
he might marry her, like one awaiting
grapes to ripen for harvest. From that
time on be did not feel that mysterious
sense of pain in seeing those embraces
and loving greetings at home doming
and departure. "Sappy days will come
for ice also!" he thought, and he 'waited
with the same indiffereuoe with which
, in time of calms he waited for the wind
to freshen.
Twice a month, when he returned
from his usual voyage, he went to see
the child, and finding her running
thoughtlessly on the shore, springing
from rook to rook like a sea -bird, or see-
ing her intent upou fishing with her
foster -brother, the diffused light of the
sunbeams making her appear more blond
and more beautiful, he felt better pleased
than ever with what he had done, and
with no idea of concealing his thought
he said to everybody:—
"My Gianetta is a rose which I eulti-
vats in a hothouse with all care. One
day this rose will expand, and all her
perfume will be for me!"
He was proud of what awaited him In
a near "future.
When. Gianetta was 20 be married her,
the girl allowing herself to be wedded to
the only maxi to whom she had ever
looked for protection. He was 50 years
old, and the ugliest captain that ever
commanded a ship; she the most beau-
tiful girl of the Riviera.
Capt. Strawberry seemed to be happy;
He established her in a little white house
on the shore, surronnded with roses and
lime trees, then returned to his brigan-
tine, his voyages, his business, never
thinking that in taking a wife a part of
bis life ought also to change. He bad
married Gianetta for the sake of having
near him a beautiful little pale face, for
the plearaire of seeing somebody on the
pier waiting for him when he returned,
and to have good woolen socks for wear.
in winter.
Fortnightly lie passed a couple of
days ashore, going home to his bride
only after all business had been arranged;
he treated her as one would treat a good
chum, with no thought of exerting him-
self to please her, and believing firmly
that aha was deeply Interested in what
interested bin. He told her that when
the bees lingered close to the beehive
an the dogs' coats smelled strong that
it was unsafe to put out to sea, becalms
a storm threatened; he taught her how
to preserve cigars In rum and how to
manage a boat with a lateen sail. He
made long conversations with her on the
merit of sugar, marsala and cigars, and
of the leather, sulphur and oil so much
in demand, interlarding his talk with all
manner of marine and oommeroial terms
to which the little rosy ears of the 20 -
year -old bride were strangers, Hetreated
her like a ship. He commanded her as
he would have anmmanded troops.
"Veer, tack, heave out cable, larboard,
starboard!" AU this he would say to her,
and, to please him she was obliged to
understand.
Time passed and they had been mar-
ried a year, when one night the cap-
tain, greedy for business, returned a day
before the usual time, but because of a
dreadful storm the brigantine could h at
enter the harbor. When every sail was
furled the captain made two sailors row
him ashore. As he touched land the hur-
ricane burst in all its fury. The sun had
lnng since disappeared, and already a
most frightful night enveloped the Riv-
iera. By the sinister blaze of the light-
ning the captain found the path which.-
led
hich.led to bis little home, and ascended it as
best he could by the fitful gleaming. He
felt a strange unquietness; it seemed to
him that the house receded the nearer
he approached to it; but finally he arrived
at the garden, and searched in the dark-
ness for the latch of the gate.
All at once, not far from him, a burst
of merry laughter and heavy, hurrying
footsteps made him thrill. In spite of
the uproar of the hurricane he recognized
the voice of Gianetta, his wife, answer-
ing laughingly to another voice, the gay,
careless tones of a young man. Straw-
berry felt the cold of an icy perspiration
wet his forehead, and his legs trembled
as they had never trembled to the rook-
ing of any vessel. He waited. His hearb
seemed to bound out of him, a fog veiled
his sight. He had only the time to step
hastily between two bushes, when,
wrapped in a mariner's cloak, a young
man, the foster -brother of Gianetta,
parrying the wife of Strawberry, with
her arms around bis neck like a child,
ran by with great strides, and, opening
the gate, disappeared among the paths
of the garden. The two lovers had been
surprised by the hurricane on the hill,
where they had gone to hide their hap-
piness.
The captain divined the tenth at
once, and remained as if petrified upon
the spot. If the man who had broken his
life bad been a captain, with bronzed
face and broad shoulders, he would have
run after him and strangled him; but
before that boy of 21 years, blond and
pale like a girl, incapable to guide a ship
or to anchor it in a duck pond, - he felt
himsel bitterly humiliated, with a terri-
ble sense of shame.
Meanwhile, inthe garden, every sound
of mirth had vanished, and the Riviera,
in its entirety, was given over to the
dark powers of the tempest.
Capt. Strawberry trembled, passed a
hand slowly over his forehead and bit his.
nails till the blood flowed as the swift
knowledge of the mistake he had made
dawned upon .his stunned intelligence.
Then he turned and stumbled blindly
baokward to the skiff, Out at sea a short
distance lay the brigantine, its three
lights gleaming with acomfortable snug -
noes in the heavy gloom of the stormy
night. When the captain reached hid' ship.
be sent all on board below to sleep, etat-
ing briefly that he would keep watch.
Then he went slowly into the rigging.
The first rays of the morning sun,
touching with golden caress the moon-,
tains on shore, fell upon the topsail of
the brigantine and on the body of Capt.
Strawberry, which, suspended from a
ship's rope, swung heavily, toward the
east.
THY WILL BE ONE.
We see not; know not; all our way
Is night; with Thee alone is day.
Prom eat the torrent's troubled drift,
Above the storm our prayers we lift--
Thy
ift—Thy will be done 1
Theflesh may fail, the heart may break,
Butwho aro we, complaint to make,
Or dare to plead in tithes like these,
The weakness of our love for ease ?
Thy will be done !
We take with solemn thankfulness
Our burden up, nor ask it less;
.&ud count it joy that even we
May suffer, serve, or wait for Thee.
Thy will be done I
Though dim as yet in tint and line,
We trace Thy picture's wise design,
And thank Thee that our supplies
The dark relief of sacrifice,
Thy will be done 1
Strike, Thou, the Master, eee the keys,
The anthem of the destinies;
The minor or Thy loftiest strain—
Our hearts shall breathe the old refrain.
The will be done!
—Jenne G. WHITTIER.
HIS LEGAL ADYICE.
Bikaner Bunker was a lawyer, newly
fledged, and as yet without a client. His
shingle, with
ELKANOR BUNTER,
Counselor and Attorney at Law,
In letters as bright as gold leaf could
make them, bad gone up .the day before,
and his library, rather a scant pattern,
had just arrived, and Bikaner had spent
the last 15 minutes in putting that up,
too; after which Bikaner seated himself
again in his old arm -char, and musing,
rested.
"Ob, for a good, fat client!" sigbed
Bikaner, after half an hour's solitary
reflection. Sighing doesn'b generally
secure the object longed for, but in this
case the usual order of things seemed
likely to be reverse& A heavy step was
heard in the passage, a rap at the door,
and in stalked a gaunt, bony six-footer,
with an oxgoad in one hand and an un-
dressed sheepskin in the other, Elkanor
knew his customer, an old acquaintance,
"miserly as the day is long when days
are the longest." He coolly pusea@d out a
chair to him, and then busiecThimseif
with some books and papers that lay
before him, with an appearance of indus-
try decidedly greater than 'he manifested
before bis visitor's entrance.
"You seem to be plaguay busy this
morning, squire," said Mr. Tarbox, after
a silent session of Borne 15 minutes.
"Rather busy, sir."
"Well, then, I guess I won't interrupt
you, squire, scam' as you are busy."
"It is my business, sir, to be inter-
rupted," remarked Bikaner.
"Yes, I know it is; but you see I
didn't exactly call on business. I only
wanted to get a little advice; just to find
out what your opinion is."
"Well, sir, state your ease," laconically
remarked Bikaner.
"Why, you see, squire, we bad a kind
of cattle show down at our end of the
town, you know, last week a Tuesday.
Well, you see, I got into a little bit of a
serape there. You know Bill Walker, I
s'pose?"
"I can't say X do," said Bikaner.
"Don't know Bill Walker! Heavens
and airth, squire! Everybody knows Bill
Walker. I ruther guess you know him,
squire. Jest think a minute."
"Perhaps so; but go on with your
OEM, if you please, and let Bill Walker
go."
"Yes, but really, now I thought you
knew Bill. Why, 1 swan, squire, you
musb know him. Bill Walker's the man
that wears that old—"
Bat we will not inflict on our readers
Mr. Tarbox's luminous description of
Bill Walker's wearing apparel, Suffice it
that he did describe the said Walker's
apparel in a discourse of about 15 min-
utes, after which he spent half an hour
in telling how be and Bill had bad a fight
together, and then eked out the rest of
the morning by telling what they had
fought together for. He was in the midst
of this when Bikaner hoard the distant
dinner bell ring. Eleanor hadn't been
in the profession long enough to know
that lawyers are generally supposed not
to need dinners. So he cut short his
client's tale with:—
"The amount of the whole matter,
Mr. Tarbox, so far as I can see from
your own story, is that you think Bill
Walker sto:e one of your sheep and
acknowledge that you have been and taken
one of his."
"That's it, squire; you've hit it
'zaotly."
"But yon hav no business to take one
of Bill Walker's sheep."
"Why, Bill Walker took one of mine."
"Perhaps so; but can you prove that
foot?"
"Prove it! Thunder and lightning! I
should hope so. I can prove . that fast
enough."
"Who'll swear to it?"
"Why, anybody will swear to
"And what might anybody's name be?"
inquired Elkanor. "Did you see Bili
take the sheep or have anything to do
with it?"
"No, I didn't see him."
"Well,do you know anybody who did?"
"I can't say I do 'eactiy; but, thun-
der and lightning, squire! Hill Walker is
just the sort of a fellow to steal sheep,
I'll swear to that."
"Yes, lent that won't do: My opinion,
Mr. Tarbox, is that you had better give
Bill Walker his sheep and get yours back
whenever you can. It is your shortest
way out of the scrape, sir."
"Do you really think so, squire?"
"I don't 'think' anything about .the
matter. i know so."
"Wal, that what's Bill said Squire
Ketchum, down tn Waikerville, said.
But I didn't rawly believe "him. How-
somover, if you both say so I &pose it
mast he so. It's an all -fared bard case,
though. I swan it is." (Here Mr. Tar-
box pulled out his watch.) "Hul-lot
'most two o'clock! 1 must be gain', that
is a fact.' And Mr, Tarbox gathered to-
gether his "fixings" and made for the
door,
"Look here, Mr. Tarbox," said Elkanor,
"you haven't paid nae yet. 'Cash down is
my motto..'
"Have't p -a -i -d you! Paid you for
what? I don't owe you anything as I know
OIL Do I?".
"Certainly you do."
"I should like to know what it's for,
then.''
"Very well, 'I can tell you, . It is for
professional advice gime you this morn-
ing.
weal ha! Well, now, that is a good
one! And how much money may your
'professional advice' be wtithr"
"If you follow it, and I'm inclined to
think you will, it will be worth to you
about tau tinea what I shall ohargs you
for it. My charge, sir, is one dollar."
"Oh, git eout, squire! You don't
mean to say you want me to pay a dollar
for a hour or so of sociable talk, doyou?"
"Indeed I do, sir."
"Well, look here, young man. You
needn't think you are going to diddle me
out of a dollar that way. I'm a little too
knowing for that operation. So good
morning to you; and as to that dollar;
don't youwish you may got it? Good
morning. One dollar! Hal ha"
"Let those laugh that win, Mr. Tar-
box," said Elkanor; "you'll either pay,
me that dollar now, or before sunset
I'll sue you for five. You can take
your choice."
"Wh-a-e-w, now i You are a screamer
for a young one. But I'll tell you what
VII do with you, squire. 1'11 give you
that dollar if you'll give me a receipt
for it."
"I'll give you a dozen if you like,"
said Bikaner,
"Very well; here's your dollar, then.
Now band over the rsceipt,ifyou please...
Bikaner sat down and wrote:.
Received of Hiram Tarbox, one dollar
iu payment for professional advice to him
this day given, -
ELKANOR BUNKER,
Attorney at Law.
Grizzle, September 9, 1892.
"There you have it," said he, handing
ib over to Mr. Tarbox.
"Yes, and it's where you'll have it,
too, or I'm mighty mistaken. You swin-
dled me, young man, out of a dollar,
and hero I've got proof of it, in black
and white. That will be a dear dollar to
you, my good fellow."
"Perhaps so," replied Elkanor; "but
if you are through, sir, you needn't
wait any longer. There's the door,"
Mr. Tarbox went out. He went out,
too, as If be fancied he saw the demon"
strations on the part of the young law-
yet of an intention to put him out. He
kept on, too, after ho had got ant, until
he came to the House of Judge Rawson,
who lived a few miles away. Here he
stopped and rapped. The judge was not
in. He ,bad gone over to "the farm." So
over to the farm after the judge went
Mr. Tarbox. It was a long three miles,
and by the time he reachod the spot be
had about made up his mind that it
would have been as well to have given
up the dollar and said nothing further
about it. H"wever, he persevered, and
at last found the judge in the fields with
a hoe in his hand hoeing potatoes.
Tho judge was a man of few words
and soon brought Mr. Tarbox to the
point.
"Why, the amount of it is, judge,"
said Mr.Tarbox, "you see this receipt
the little rascal has given mo. Well, I
want you to take it and haul the fellow
up for me."
"Tianl him up! Why, the receipt is
good enough. What do you want, pray?"
"I don't want anything more from
hint. But i should like to make him
wing for it, though, one while."
'"Make him swing? Swing for what?"
"Why, for swindling me out of my
nanney."
"You stupid old jackass!" said the
judge, "dicln'b you go to him and ask his
opinion?"
"To be sure, I did, but--"
"And didn't he give it to you?"
"Yes, certainly, but—"
"Don't bother me with your `buts:' If
3 ou asked hien for his advice, and he
gave it to you, I should say that was
enough."
"Yes, but he didn'b 'give' it to me.
He made me pay ono dollar for it. Now,
that's what I cull swindling."
"You may call it what you like, but
it is no more swindling than for you to
charge one dollar for a bushel of corn is
swindling."
"Well, hang it all!" said Mr. Tarbox,
rather testily, "do you mean to say,
judge, thatthis receipt is a good one?"
"To be sure Ido."
"And that I can't get my dollar back
again?"
"Not by a long shot."
"I suppose, then, I can't make she
little rascal suffer for it?"
"1 , m."
"Well, ifshould thatsay'snotthe case," saiddecidedlyMr.
Tarbox,look ing rather crestfallen, "it is
high Sums I was going"; and off be
started.- But his progress was suddenly
a -rested.
".rust one moment, if you please,"
said the judge. "I believe you haven't
paid me yet."
"P -a -f -d you 1 Paid you for what, I'd
like to know."
"For professional advice."
"Why, you don't mean to say, judge,
that you are going to make me pay for
your telling me that I can't prosecute
That fallow; do you? You don't mean
that, sure-ly."
"Certainly I do."
"Well, all I have to say is I'll see you
to thunder first? How much do you
charge for that, eb?"
"I'11 tell you what I charge far it,"
said the judge, slowly hitting his hoe.
"Licher pay me my fee or I'll give you
such a mauling as you never had in your
lite. Take *your choice, and be quick
about it, too."
"Well, if I mast, I s'pose I must,"
said. be, atleagth. "What is your charge?"
"Two dollars."
"Two dollars! Thunder and light-
ning, judge, you are bad! too bard, that's
a fact. T thought you didn't oharge any-
thing for law business nowadays."
"That depends on circumstances. I
do this time.''
"But two dollars, judge—isn't that
rather high?"
"Not a cent less," said the judge;
"either that or the hoe handle. Take
your choice.',
'Well, blast you! take it then!" said
Mr. Tarbox, hauling out of 'an old dirty
pocketbook a dirty "five.'
" Verse good, " said the judge. "Phoe-
nix bank, live dollars. All right; here's
your change. You may go. now."
And Mr. Tarbox did go, He stopped,
though, after going a few steps, for he
heard tbo judge galling after him.
"Well, what's wanting now, I'd like
to know?" snarled he.
"Oh, nothing vary particular," replied
the judge, "only T thought perhaps as
you let me have the two dollars, that
perhaps you might like a receipt."
Mr. Tarbox ground bis teeth audibly,
and as he returned away something very
ranch like "I s -w -a -a -r!" .found its way
out.—N. Y. News.
• Eight-rifteen.
• On a Sunday evening in Belfast, Me.,
a young man in church looked frequent-
ly at his watch during the sermon. Just
as he was doing so for the fourth or
fifth time the pastor with, great earnest-
ness, was urging the truth upon thecon-
science of his hearers. "Young man,"
said he, "how is it with you?" Where-
upon the young man with the gold re-
peater bawled out, in the hearing of
nearly the whole congregation, "A quart-
er past eight."
THE FRIM
POINTS FOR BREEDING.
Treatment or the Brood Mare -41. Good
Grain lilixtnre.
A noted horse -breeder writes tn the
Country Gentleman that anything so Im-
portant as horse breeding should be done
well. Boxes for brood inares should be 12
by 14 or 14 by 16 feet, and for stallions
14 by 20, and should be kept scrupul-
ously clean, sweet and well bedded. All
the animals, mares and stallions should
be so kindly treated as to love the care-
taker. My mares during the winter
period of gestation are fed plain hay,
With two quarts each of outs throe times
a day. Once a week they have a gond
mess of parrotsfirst washed, then out
fine in a machine. Sometimes turnips or
a couple of heads of cabbage. Never feed
bran mashes to mares with foal, as a
sudden loosening of the bowels is liable
to cause abortion. About six weeks be-
fore parturition Is due, I feed the mares
daily, morning and evening, in plane of
dry oats, of the following mixture:
Three quarts wheat bran, two quarts
ground oats, one pint ground flax -seed
pure, mixed. This mixture I sprinkle
with fine table salt, mixing it thorough-
ly in the dry state, then dampen with
water and mix again. This quantity is
for one feed to a good-sized animal,
and the same at night, giving the two
quarbs of dry oats at noon. The foal
grows very fast the last month of gesta-
tion.' This feed tends to soften the
mucous membrane of the entire system,
and to give the digestive organs a heal-
thy looseness which is imparted to the
unborn foal, preventing oostiveness, or
trouble in passing the first faeces; and
the salt in the system of the mare ants
also upon the kidneys of the foal so that
it has no trouble with its water, The
flaxseed is a lubrioant, so to speak, to
all the musoles and organs of the mare,
so that she gives easy birth to her little
ono. Keep the trough in which the feed
is prepared clean and sweet, that no
fermentation upon its sides and bottom
be imparted through daily use. The
above feed encourages a largo flow of
milk, very rich, giving the foal strength.
The 1'ouitryman's Chart..
The following chart showing the sea
-
Clonal parts of a fowl was originally
presented. by The Southern Fancier: -
4
SECTIONAL PARTS OP A FOWL.
1. Crop. 2. Wattle. 8. Beak, 4. Comb.
5. Face. 6. Deaf ear, 7. Earlobe. 8.
Hackle. 10. Back. 11. Sickle. 12. Tail.
1a Tail covert. 14. Saddle. 15. Second-
aries. 16. Wing coverts. 17. Fluff. 18.
Heck. 19. Shank or leg. 20. Spur. 21.
Keel or breastbone. 1 to 2i. Breast or
body. 22. Wing bow or shoulder.
Live Stock Notes.
Do not allow the large fowls to run
among the coops of young chiakeue.
They are nob only a great annoyance to.
the hens in the coops, but will often
pick and injure a young chicken.
Farmers will do well this year to take
care of their flocks. The attacks .made
upon sheep and wool during the past by
the free -wool politicians and shoddy
manufacturers have, during the last two
years just closed, reduced the number of
sheep in the country about 10,000,000,
or about 5000,000 per year, at which
rate, with the help of the sheep -killing
dogs, whisb seem to have been unusually
ravenous these years, our flocks have
become very much smaller than five years
age
Nothing is more cruel than to keep
hens in summer time where they can-
not have plenty of shade, and that, too,
wbere they can roll themselves in the
dust. This is necessary to keep thein free
from vermin, which, when it gets a
lodgment, increases very rapidly in warm
weather. They should also have a plenti-
ful supply of clear water, kept so that
they cannot soil it by. getting ,their feet
into the drinking dish. With shade and
plenty of water bens will go through
their moulting period much more quickly
than if denied these essentials.
In view of the increased interest in
dairying and the desirability of keeping
cows especially adapted to the bnsluoss,
in order to get the best possible results,
the dairyman's longing eyes naturally
turn toward the Jersey cow as best suited
for the purpose. Yet Jerseys or Guernseys
cost money, and not every farmer who
would be glad to own them is able to do
so, unless on a very moderate scale. To
such I would say, you can grade up your
own herd of common co:vs so that at
the first cross the change for the better
will be plainly perceptible In three.
years from the beginning the results be-
gin to be realized, when the heifers
from such grading up come into milk.
I claim that one can -.raise better cows
than he can buy. The pedigree may be
lacking, but .the performance will be
very gratifying.
• Care of Lambs.
The lambs should have a' fresh rowan
or an upland pasture, if one Is available,
well stocked wibht lune grass, red -top, or
some other short, tender, nutritious
grass. There sbould be strips of forest in
it, with shady knolls for stamping
grounds, wbere they may find an abund-
ance of the dust . which is soessential to
Their health during the dog days. An
old ewe should be kept with them for a
flock leader. If they are aoeustomed
during the summer to a stationary salt
trough, the task of teaching them to eat
feed will be reduced to a trifle, as they
will approach the trough freely. A
mere dusting ofsalt should be sprinkled
on. their feed for a few days (being with-
held from them otherwise); after that
it may be sprinkled on a cleans sod. It is
of the highest importance that lambs
and yearlings ehonld have daily ,access
to salt, summerand winter, at least in
a humid climate. -Rural World.
BEST WAY TO PLOW.
why a Jointer is Useful—Depth of Plow-
ing Varies With Crops.
The editor of the Boston Cultivator,
in an article on summer and fall plow-
ing, says that in plowing sod of any
kind, even of clover, it is best to use a ;
jointer. This is a small plow connected
with the beam and running a little in'.
advance of the larger plow that cuts the !
main farrow. This jointer plow outs and
doubles the sod on itself, while the
larger plow runs two or three inches
deeper and brings up a section of loose
earth just under the surface and full of
grass and clover roots and which is easily
made into a mellow seed bed. The depth
to which this lower furrow should be
out depends on the kind of grass roots
that are plowed under and on the crop
that is to grow upon it. Potatoes will
require or at least will bear, much deep-
er planting than will Dorn. We have
found with clover ley that the best Dorn
crop was produced with not more than
five or six inches of soil turned by both
furrows. With a June grass sod even
less depth than this will produce the
best corn growth, but it wilt be almost
impossible to keep the crop from being
overrun with grass unless more of the
lower soil, is turned up. We are satisfied
that most of the plowing of June grass
sod is done too deeply for the sake of
saving labor in cultivation. If the sod is
turned with a jointer and three inches of
soil 18 turned up below the bed as good
a furrow as can be desired may be made
with jointer plow or modern Im-
proved barrows, We can remember when
only the straight drag was used in pre-
paring a seed bed for corn, and where a
tough sod had been plowed under it was
a most interminable job,
Compelling .Irons to Exercise.
Finks that have been so kindly treated
that the members thereof rely upon their
regular daily supply from their owner
will never give satisfaction in egg pro-,
duction until heroic remedies are applied,`:
and the sooner that is done the more
time will be saved. Hens that have been
well fed are too fat to lay. 'their combs
will bo bright and rod, and they snny ap-
pear thrifty, but when they are very fab
the owner will wait quite a while before
he will get many eggs fromethem. There
is but one course to pursue, and that is
to cut off the supply of food until the
hens are willing to work. A hen that is
fat will not starve until the stored fat
ou her body Is utilized, as this reserve
of warmth is just so inneb carbonaceous
food in the form of fat. Begin by giving
no food et all. For a day or two the hoses
will insist on your supplying then. At
the end of two days scatter a gill of
millet, or rape seed in the litter. Hunger
will induce them to work. Withhold the
food for a week or ton days, or until they
bavo lost weight. They will then have
concluded that they must work, and by
then feeding thein judiolonsly they will
begin to lay and continuo to do so if
properly cared for.
Green food is stili plentiful, ne the
hons can find many substances which
answer the purpose, even where a touch
of frost has appeared, and it is only in
the winter, when the food is dry and the
hens confined, that the difficulty of
affording a supply of variety of green
food is met. Variety in green food is bet-
tor than one kind. The term "green
food" does not apply to grass or cab-
bages only, but includes any kind of
bulky succulent foods; suoh as clover, 1
corn fodder leaves, cabbage, shopped
beets, ensilage (finely chopped), cooked
potatoes, turnips or carrots. The objeot
is to give bulk in order to dilute (if it
can be so expressed) the concentrated
grains. These foods aro the cheapest that
can be used and lessen the cost of the
production of eggs, not only by promo-
ting the health of the fowls, but also
because such foods assist in the digestion
of the more costly kinds. In feeding
groan food it can be done by giving
cabbage one day, clover the ]teat, pota•
-
toes the next, and so continue into the
variety. The object now should be to lay
in a supply of such articles' and have
them ready for use when winter comes. '
Getting; the Manure Tinder Cover.
How one farmer keeps his manure out
of the way of rains and snows,and yet has
it perfectly accessible for hauling to the
fields, is shown in our illustration. It
ARRANGEMENT FOR SEELTERING MANURE.
may not be the best plan, but the very
best plan is not always hmong the pos-
sibilities on the average farm. The cat-
tle stalls are simply moved further in
toward the middle of the barn --a plan
that can be followed when building a
barn and quite easily followed when
remodeling an old barn. Such an ar-
rungement makes the wide driving floor r
through the entire center of the barn
impossible, but such a wide and long
feeding and driving floor is really a waste
of very valuable space. With a hay fork
it is no longer necessary to drive the
hay -rack so that one can pitch hay from'
it into any part of the barn. The pro-
tection of the manure from the weather
is of the highest importance—anmport-
ance, unfortunately, too little realized. ,
The manure pile is the mainspring of
the farm, and a very weak mainspring
when two-thirds of its value has leached
out and disappeared down some brook or
river.
Farm Notes.
An experienced dairyman states that
he alivays uses a thermometer and ripens
his cream at 65 degrees, cuols the ripe
cream to 55 degrees, and churns until
the butter is about the size of shot, when
lie draws off all of the buttermilk and
washes the butter with water that is
about two degrees cooler than the butter.'
Putting off from day to day such
little things • as need immediate atten-
tion, often results in much waste of time
to take the nine stitches where one
would have been sufficient, and some-
times in an entire arrest of important
work when many .hands may be com-
pelled to remain idle while repairs are
made.
Nut Cake.
Take two tablesponfuls of ,butter, two
cupful a of sugar, two beaten eggs, a
cupful of milk,' three cupfuls of flour,
one teaspoonful of baking powder, one
pint of mixed nuts, blanched and chop-
ped; flavor with vanilla. Put in a bub-
tared tin and bake in a moderate oven.
—Good Housekeeping,