HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1896-11-26, Page 2CHAPTER L—"THE HOUR AND THE
MAN,
"Hark!"
A tempest of summer rain had been
sweeping hill, valley and dale.
4,`ben the sun had come out, bursting
from the: fleecy clouds like a bright,
joyous being bent on a race across blue
meadows.
From every tree . and busb a million
glittering drops of rain hung, swaying,
<sointillating, flashing like pendant dia-
monds.
And now, from the abetter he had
sought atrrnng a clump of elders, a man
stepped into view, the only human being
visible on this grand alternating pano-
rama of nature.
In face, build and attire be was so
oompletely in harmony with the sun-
jetteled landscape, that, as he stood sur-
veying its beautlee with the eyes of a
dreamer. he seemed a sentient part of it
His garb was that of a tourist or artist
bent on an outing, for which he had
selected attire comfortable, appropriate,
yet neat.
It fitted his athletic loran till the well-
built muscles showed swelling and
rounded with health and vitality.
The light cap surruounted a brow
broad, intellectual, yet bronzed with
exposure: to the summer sun.
Beneath it flashed eyes poetio, earnest,
yet aotive, subdued to tenderness as
they took in the dreamy glories of nature,
yet susceptible of expressing vivid emo-
tion when the heart was deeply stirred.
The abin was narrow. yet set., the
mouth, sympathetio, yet firm, and, alto-
gether, the striking combination of
gravity and gentleness, resolution and
tenderness, calculation and purity,
method and dreaminess, evinced that
their poesesser was a remarkable man.
His light tennis -alines showed prepara-
tion for tedious tramp., and were travel -
worn and dusty. Aert;s his shoulder ran
a strap secured to an oblong ease,
Ranging to it, too, was what resembled
a small portable photographic camera.
He had paused as be stepped from
shelter to enjoy rnomeutarily the glories
of hill, field and v+alley spread before him
like a painter's canvas, and to drink in.
the deep, exhilaratin:; draught of the
freely cool air, when, with a start, he
bent his ear, and, :a rapt expression on.
his fine tact', he uttered the quiet, in-
voluntary ware—
"Hark!"
If hie eye bad before shown the ardor
of a tree :artist in hie surrey "f the
smiling lent:sral;r. It now glowed with
the eager npprt'eiatien of a. true Inti iatan.
For the divine trinity of pure pleasure
'was completed, gales -n light, glowing
nature, and now ser:aplaie melody.
Birds mere singing, brit it was not
their sweet notes, ele'ar and resonant as
silver bead:; drdpped into it crystal dish,
that entranced. him.
A. near waterfall trickled over the
rocks with a swinging. murmur of har-
mony, the soft zephyrs swayed the pines
to the rhythm of .Aeolian melody, but
these sounds were drowned in a full,
glorious buret of maguiflcent song.
Like one held in the thrall of the
most exquisite pleasure, the young man
listened enrapt.
"Help Nome soul its strength renew,
As the journey we pursue,
Ohl the good we all may do,
While the days are going by!"
The words rang out clear and echoing,
every quivering leaf seemed to vibrate
with them—the golden, lute -like voice
that pronounced them seemed to be too
seraphic to be human. Well might he
listen! Wall might the scintillating rain-
drops throb and jar in consonance with
the noble song that filled air, heart and
senses as if thrillea from the lips of a
famous divot
"Is tho wood enchanted?"
The stranger asked himself the question
in a subdued tone, as if fearful of break-
ing a. spell of magic.
Then, with wistful eyes and eager
steps, he Stole ala.g the path leading to
a copse, from whence or beyond which
bad certainly emanated that full, clear
burst of glorious melody.
He penetrated the little belt of timber.
The forest nymph was nowhere in sight.
-Approaching its other edge, however, he
drew back suddenly, warily
The fair one stood revealed. If the song
had enchanted the traveler, the singer
held heart. interest and glance under a
new spell of witchery.
Where some wild vines formed a kind
of canopy, she lingered, as if there she
bad. taken temporary refuge front the
passing shower.
Dreamy influences about her, pure
emotions awakened by the happy voices
of nature, ber soul bad found expression
for its thoughts, ambitions and aspira-
tions in that song of praise and hope.
Her face was perfect, her form rounded
to the symmetry of a Niobe. Only the
eyes, half veiled with dewy sadness, told
that she was other than some happy
maiden, content to wander forever amid
the budding beauties of field and forest.
"What a picture!"
The stranger breathed the words soft
and low. If his eyes expressed admira-
tion
dmirestion of the lovely face, that ardor was
tempered with the quick, artistic sense
that proclaimed him to be a true poet
end dreamer.
"I must catch that face—the scene, its
surroundings," he went on, eagerly.
"Nature, beauty, art—if . she will only
keep that pose for.annther moment!"
Bis eyes fixed intently upon her, the
stranger deftly slipped the small box
from the strap across lits shoulder.
Leaning it against a gnarled, stout
vine, he got a perfect foes on the
bower, the girl and her immediate sur•
roundings.
The back of the case came into view
as he did so. Across the black surface, in
plain white letters, was painted a name
—his name—for identification of the
camera, to protect it from loss or theft.
It read:
JERA LE BRITTA,
Photographer.:
should open the shutter and time the
exposure, the artist started
With slight excitement he peered at
tbe girl and beyond her, a little. gasp 01
alarm escaping bis lips.
For something unexpeoted had hap-
pened, that, in later moments of his
life, be was to realize, trivial as it was,
should change the current of many
oareers,and render this a most portentous
hour in his young destiny.
The hour was a potent one—he was to
know that soon—yes, fate had precipi-
tated a strange climax on that smiling
landscape, and "the hour and the man"
had arrived!
Startled, as has been said, by a some-
what unexpected and remarkable ocour-
rence, the artist was still intent on
securing a picture of the fair scene and
the fair being who filled it, at all haz-
ards.
His deft fingers touched the button of
the camera.
Click!
His finger ready to snap thecatchthat
CHAPTER ]Z—FALCON AND DOVE.
Click
The work was done! The little shutter
lifted, hung suspended for a flashing
moment of time, and then shot back into
place, holding its precious secret safe on
the sensitive plate within the slide.
A stroke of rnt'rvelous art- had caught
the scene in a stash, had chronicled its
every outline, and the picture of the fair
girl was the reward of the dexterity of
the artist.
Something besides, tool—the exoited
artist knew that—and instantly his
mind recurred to the extraordinary and
unexpected occurrence that had disturbed
him.
For, just as that ominous click sound-
ed a baleful presence had appeared to mar -
the fair scene.
From the dense shrubbery at the side
of the bower of vines a human face had
come suddenly, startlingly into view.
The artist bad seen it; he realized its
disturbing effect upon an otherwise
placid scene, but, fearful that the voting
girl gazing at the beautiful landscape
night observe it tno,and change her pose,
he shut the shutter at once.
To the intruder, Jt'ra Le Britta .now
transferred his attention.
There was sarnt'thiug sinister in the
actions of the newe,l.turr. His faee was
teat of a plan rnaliguant, hate -filled,
venon"uus.
i)reeseel like a tramp, there was some-
thing in his glittering eyes and hand-
some though evil hue, that proclaimed
his garb to be a di guise.
He wore a green, broad shade over one
eye, and this disfigured, almost concealed
his fettturee. Ile had lifted it to bestow
one quick searel;ing glance on the girl,
but lowered it instantly afterward.
The girl had not moved She was all
unconscious of the proximity of the
artist, of the sinister cynosure of the
tramp.
The latter, never taking his glance
from her face, slowly and cautiously ex-
tricated himself from the entangling
vines that formed a barrier between him-
self and the bower.
The artist drew nearer to the edge of
the wood. There wag much in the ap-
pearance of the intruder that suggested
she slimy serpent bent on decoying and
charming the shy, innocent dove. Le
Britta's suspicious instincts were aroused,
bis keenest sense of chivalry, ton, and he
determined to watoh and await the out-
come of the scene, that held in its very
incipiency all the elements of a strange
and weird plot.
What had guided his steps hither?
Fate! The girl probably resided in some
of the pretty villas that lined the green
slopes half a mile distant. The man
might be a thieving tramp, but his
actions indicated some deep motive in
studying the girl ere he approached bet
The artist observed him steal noise-
lessly toward her. Had the glittering gold
bracelet on tbe girl's arm aroused the
cupidity of his thieving instincts? No;
a few feet distant from the object of his
interest, the tramp came to an abrupt
halt.
He had stepped on a dry twig, and its
crackling had startled the girl. Rapid as
a flash she turned. Quick as lightning
the tramp dropped to an attitude of the
most abject servility, with bent face and
extended hand, assuming the pose and
bearing of a professional mendicant.
Tho girl was startled, more„ fright-
ened.
rightened. She uttered a little cry of alarm,
shrank back, gazed. wildly about be; as
if bent on speeding precipitately from the
spot, and then, quivering with timidity
and dread, she gasped incoherently:—
"Who are you? What do you'want?"
The man whined out some unintelligi-
ble words. The girl, her hands crossed
nervously over her palpitating heart,
seemed to strive to regain her composure.
Jere Le Britta, a spellbound spectator
of the scene, saw the tramp's shaded eyes
glow from beneath the impromptu mask
he wore like those of a baleful basilisk.
"Ohl is it alms?" murmured the fair
maiden in a gentle, pitying tone. "You
look Poor, hungry, tired. Hero, I have
not muoh. You are welcorne to that."
She drew forth a tiny, jeweled purse.
Her fingers trembled as she extended the
few coins that it contained.
The tramp edged nearer. His great
rougb hand closed over the coins and her
dainty fingers as well. She shuddered
and drew back, for it was evident that
theaman had inade slow work of securing
the money, in order to take' a keen,
sweeping survey of her features.
"Thanks!" he grated forth, hoarsely.
"Tell me, lady, though, your name?"
"My name?" repeated the girl, flush-
ing indignantly. "Why should I do
that?"
"So I can remember my kind benefac-
tress."
So palpable a sneer was manifest in
the accents, that the girl started with
suspicious dislike and positive.alarnt.
With quiet dignity, however, she be-
stowed a cold look on her pensioner, and
said:—
"My name cannot be of any interest,
to you, and I do not care to publish a
trifling charity."
"But I want to know!"
Of a' sudden the tramp's bearing
changed. He arose from his oreaohlng
attitude of mock servility.
Aggressive, insolent, threatening, he
blocked .her wey, as she uttered a ory of
alarm.
"And I will know!" he blustered.
"Charity? Bahl Take back sour gold,
scatter it to. the pauper brats down at
the almshouse. Keep it, andmay it sink
you and all about .you, but you tell me
what I want to know before I leave this
spot, or you either, my proud lady l"
With a scornful swing of his hand,
the tramp had fluug the money in his
grasp disdainfully on the ground at the
feet of his astounded almoner.
Now, coming nearer to her, he
hissed:—
"I'd know that face from a pioture I
saw. I've watched youand saw you come
from Hawthorne villa, You are Gladys
Vernon,"
The girl grew pale. Her eyes told that
the man had made a eorreet conjecture.
"If I am," she faltered, "what is that
to you?"
"You shall see. If you are Gladys Ver-
non, you are the niece of old. Gideon
Vernon. It's not you I care to know
about. I can guess that you have been
luolty enough to be adopted as the favor-
ite of that crotchety old miser, bat
there's some questions about him I'm
going to ask, and you're going .to an-
swer."
The girl's face had grown steadily
whiter: Defiance, fear, played alternately
across her colorless features.
Le Britta, about to spring forward and
relieve her from the presence and dis-
tressing importunities of the insolent in-
truder, restrained himself, as some in-
tuitive instinct told him that the man's
later actions might reveal his motive in.
thus interrogating her, and afford her
friends a clue to his designs.
"First," announced the man, "I want
to know if old Vernon is not pretty near
used up."
"My uncle is quite i11," spoke the
girl, icily. •
"Good! He'd ought to die!" was the
heartless rejoinder. "Now then, has he
altered bis will lately?"
The tramp fairly hissed the words. So
intense was his malignity of expression,
that Miss Gladys Vernon recoiled with a
cry of terror.
"I will not tell you. You are some
villain seeking to learn bis secrets, to do
him harm. Release me! helpl help!
help l"
For the villain had seized her white,
shapely wrists in his brutal grasp.
"You shall tell mei" he glowered,
fiercely. "Quick! Has ho ohanged his
will? Speak! I will know!"
"You scoundrel, lie there!"
Smack!
The man who could paint pictures,and
write poetry, and dream over sunny
landscapes, could fight, as well.
All the chivalry of his energetic na-
ture aroused, Sera Le Britta had sprung
forward.
His good right arm shot out like a
piston rod.
His sinewy fist landed squarely betwen
the eyes of tho insolent boor before him.
And the next moment, as the fair
young girl clung frantically to the
photographer's free arm for support, the
trarrrpish knave who had insulted her,
measured his Iength on the ground at
her feet.
CHAPTER III. -A STARTLING
RECOCNITION.
Jera Le Britta was a practical man,
and had led a prosaic life. That is, only
sentiment and a love for the artistic bad
been the main diversity in his existence
from plodding; everyday routine.
The bour for action had arrived, how-
ever, and he was not found lacking. A
gentleman, a friend to distress wherever
found, his hearthad responded likemagio
to the call of beauty unprotected.
The tableau that ensued to bis speedy
interference in the scene at the wild -
vine bower, was a dramatic one. His fine
face aglow with indignation and resolve,
be formed a fitting companion for the
innocent girl,who trustingly recognized
him as a valued protector, and a strik-
ing contrast to the enraged and
discomfited boor at his feet
"Leave!" be ordered, making a second
advance toward the prostrate ruffian, but
Miss Vernon interposed a restraining
hand.
"Yon have punished him enough," she
faltered, tremulously "Let him depart
in peace"
"Pence!" snorted the tramp, strug-
gling to his feet and scowling frigbtfully
"I'll show you, my haughty lady. You,
too,you insolent interferer.
"Go, if if you are wise!" ordered Le
Britta, warningly.
With a malevolent scowl, the subdued
knave shrank from the spot.
"Do not tremble so, you are safe now,"
spoke the photographer tohis companion.
"He frightened me!" quavered the
girl, apprehensively "He hinted at such
dreadful things about uncle! He bas
threatened even you!"
Le Britta smiled confidently.
"He will do wisely to keep out of my
path in the future," he said. "And now,
Miss Vernon"—
"What! You know my name?" said the
girl. with surprise.
"I was a witness to your interview
with that malignant scoundrel,"
explained the artist "From his lips I
learned your name. You reside near
here?"
She pointed across the valley, to a
pretentious mansion gleaming white and
massive among the trees on the other
slope.
"I live with my uncle," she mur-
mured, "and. I must hasten home. He
will be anxious about roe. I had been
to the village on an errand, was caught
in the shutter, and sought shelter here."
"And joined the birds in singing a
bright welnome to tho returning sun-
shine?" remarked Lo Britta.
The young girl flushed with embarras-
sment
"You heard ane," she faltered.
"That songled me to you," replied the
photographer. "One moment,. Miss
Vernon, till I secure my traps, and.I
will accompany you on your way."
"Ohl I could not think .oi troubling
you," she said.
(TO 13E CONTINUED.) -;.{i
�lrx o3yrsi.EN.:s. «'a..
T GPICU LTU R[
SIMPLE GREENHOUSE.
tfulgae in Its Arrangement of stenches
and Lousily Constructed
Tho illustration shows a Dross section
of an easily oonstructed and very service-
able greenhouse. It is unique in its ar-
rangement ofbenches. these being on the
ground, thus retaining heat and mois-
tura muoh better than a thin layer of
earth upon a raised wooden bench. The
walk is a trenoh dug out between the
benches, cemented and having a line of
tile beneath it to secure perfect drain-
age. The sides of the walk oan be
bricked up or boarded, as preferred, the
latter method,of course, not being as per-
manent as where brink is used. The
walls of this greenhouse arevery low,
just Allowing the eaves to clear the
ground satisfactorily, so that snow will
CROSS siso'i•ION OF GRENNctODSD.
not lie upon the glass. Pipes are indioat-
ed in the solid benches for use in sub -
irrigation, if this plan of watering is de-
sired. The heating pipes are suspended
over the benches as in the ordinary
greenhouse. The same construction
could be used in a three•bench green-
house In which case two walks world
have to bo dug leaving a solid bed be-
tween them. In this ease the two roofs
would have to be supported by a purlin
plate and uprights. One can work out
the 'tetails to suit bis own oircumstan-
oes, Where cedar pmts are used as a
foundation it would be necessary to
heavily mulch the ground just outside
the walls to keep the frost nut of the
ground adjacent to the solid benches, as
frost there would render the maintaining
of heat in the benches much more diffi-
cult. A solid foundation is of course pre-
feratle,—Webb Donnell, in Orange Judd
Farmer.
A. Child's Party.
For a children's party have a "Jack
Horner pie." Place a large round box
in the center of the table; cover it with
smilax or similar greens, and fill it with
simple toys, attaching a ribbon to each
article, and extend the ribbon to the
place to be '• oconpied by ' the 'guest for
when: the gift is intended. The children
will think theribbons are simply decora
tive until the end of the feast, when
eachcbild can be Instructed to gently.
pull the ribbon attached to bis plaoe,and
will be delighted to find a gift at the
other end.
SELECTING SEED CORN.
A Task Whose Importance is Not Realized
by Some Fanners.
Selection of seed corn and its erre after-
wards are of muoh more importance than
many realize until bitter disappointment
facts there, with perhaps one-third of a
stand, and then it is too late- to recover
for the year. And still farmers go right
on and do the some thing another year.
While I always go into the field and se-
lect early at least a part of my seed, I do
not plant such selection unless I have
failed at husking time to gather such as
I desire, I can select just the size and
shape that seems best to my mind at that
time and I cure it in the chamber over
the kitchen stove and leave it there.
until wanted in the ear. I would not
shell any I did not use for the year,
and during my entire life I have never
so saved corn that 1)8 per cent. would
not grow, and salaam ever any foils
oven at three years old. While the early
ripening will always grow and will make
very early corn, after a number of
years of such saving I am satisfied the
variety grows small by so doing. I prefer
to plant and sow the largest and best of
its kind. At busking time, either from
stalk or shook, one can make the selec-
tion. Leave enough husk on the ear and
throw to one side of the wagon, and in
this way the corn oan be seleofed with
little or no hindrauoa, and unless there
has been very hard freezing with cern
damp there is very little danger of 158
not growing, if properly oared for atter
picking.—Cor. Live Stook Indicator.
Wheat Crop and the Poultry Industry.
Great stress is placed on our enormous
wheat crop, which amounts to about
500,000,000 bushels per year. Wo have a
borne market for about 400,000,000 bush-
els (as food and tor seed), leaving about
100,000.000 bushels to sell, which would
bring, at the high price of 75 cents per
bushel, $75,000,000 from abroad. But for
our enormous crop all of our wheat
wnu]d be consumed in thiscountry. This
shows what a great home market we
have in the United States. Now, this
enormous wheat Drop, which is extolled
in every journal in the country, and
which excites the admiration of the
world, is equaled by the value of the
poultry and eggs produced in the United
States,the eggs and poultry finding hums
.markets. At 60 oents a hnshel the total
value .of our wheat crop is about $300,-
000,000 per year. The census in 1880 (16
years ago) showed the value of poultry
and eggs to be $200,000,000, and yetit is
dnabtful if the census enumerators were
able to get the full number or value. To-
day it is known that the poultry indus-
try Is at least one-third larger, and that
the value of the poultry and eggs pro-
duced in this country is fully $300,000,-
000, which places it on a par with wheat.
Facts for Farmers.
Every hog feeder should know at what
weight to sell.
Ewes should always he in a thrifty
condition when bred.
Every feeder should know the ration
that is best for his animals.
Kind treatment generally begets a
gentle disposition in a horse.
Plenty of salt and water will help to
maintain gond health with hogs.
On many farms during the fail months
is one of the best times to drain. '
The corn shucking should be pushed
now. Get it all under sheltet as soon. as
possible.
It is poor economy to feed wet fodder
to stook by scattering on the ground on
a rainy day.
There should be a sufficient growth of
grass ]eft on the meadows to properly
mulch the plants.—Farmers' Union.
THE CARE OF SWINE.
Mate About Winter reeding sad Work in
the l'cn.
The cheapest winter food for swine is:.
roots. They may not have so rauob nutri-
ment in themselves, but they eause the
hog to get more out of his: other food,
just as good clover pasture causes the
hog to get more out of grain. Turnips
and ruta bagas may be grown en the
land from which early potatoes or swept
porn has been removed, ora piece of
clover sod may be broken up after the
hay is harvested.
Don't lean over the fenoe to pour the
slop in the pigs' trough, says the Farm.
Journal, The fighting pigs will cause
you to spill a good part of the slop and
resting your weight on your abdomen,
supported by a rail, is not healthful ex-
erolse. ' Pass a trough through the pen
into the other trough. And if you nail
a board over the top of the Brat trough
the pigs cannot stop it with their noses
and waste the slop when it is poured in.
The old-fashioned way is to dip the
buckets into the slop barrel, lift them
out with a hard lift, all dripping and
overflowing with the greasy stuff, and
so carry them Of course the 'man that
does that gets greasy, dirty clothes. The
new way is to set the barrels upon
blocks and dish out a place for the buc-
ket to set, and theu put a big faucet in
the barrel; This way there is no hard
lifting, no bunkets greasy on the out-
side, no drip or overflow.
A little pains to sun scald the troughs
if they gat sour under cover will pay.
If it be damp and cloudy, soald them nut
with boiling water and feed a few hand-
fuls of powdered charcoal to correct acid-
ity
cidity of the hog's stomach.
EXCELLENT ICE HOUSE.
It Has allot and Broad Itoof With an Air
Chamber Between.
The engraving shows an ice house
that is so arranged as to ward off from
its most vulnerable point the heat of
summer. It is the roof of an ioe house
that receives the greater part of the sun's
heat, and not the sides, concerning which
the most core Is usually given. In the ice
house shown herewith, a flat roof is first
Ducks and Pigs.
Roast pork and roast pig are favorite
dishes, and the tamer' never misses the
pork from his table even when other.
meats are lacking. He can just as easily
and oheaply . have roast dnok as roast
pork, In ,proportion to food consumed
the duck will coat no more than the
pork, and a four -pound, duck can be
put on the table in eight weeks from
the day it is hatched. The farmer who
raises 100 decks can have >a :roast duck
twice a week nearly every week • in the
year, and he does not have to _pickle tbe
meat to keep it. ;The duck can be raised
on any kind of food that the hog will con-
sume, and the farmer can have a market
for his duets at borne, leaving bin the,
pork to oe1L
• CIIISAP ICE IIOUSL.
built, and above this is a broad, over-
hanging roof, with plenty of spnoe for
the air to circulate beneath it. Where
ono can build beneath the shelter of a
great tree, snob a construction is not
needed, but most Ins houses must be ex-
poses to the sun's rays. In which cage a
double -decked roof of this sort will prove
exceedingly advantageous.—Orange Judd
Farmer.
Storing Potatoes.
Formers have come to understand that
stn ed potatoes lose weight in the course
of the winter and that they shrink in
volume so that a class of potatnes lit for
the market in the fell are of too small a
size in the spring. The Michigan experi-
ment station bus tested the loss of weight
of potatoes in order to ascertain the in-
creased price that must be secured in the
eprine to balance this loss. One hundred
and eighty pounds of potatoes stored in a
barrel in September weighed March 2Sth,
179 days from storing, 171% pounds,
They hod lost about 6 per cent., or when
potatoes are 40 cents per bushel, 2 Dents
on the bushel. On May 1st the shrink-
age from September had reached 11'e
per cent. After this date they 'shrank
rapidly and became soft and flabby, and
the reonrd was not kept. A shrinkage of
11X per cent would mean in round
numbers a loss of a little less than 5
Dents on a bushel. To this loss must be
added interest, risk. rotting, and the de-
creased proportion that will bo able to
enter the market. It will be safe to say
that the increase of price will have to be
In the neighborhood of 20 per cent. to
bridge the loss due to storing and above
20 per Hent if any gain is to accrue from
storing. At this rate potatoes worth 40
centsein the fall would have to sell for
50 cents in the spring to balance the no -
count. A credit would occur in the value
of the small potatoes for stook.food and
the decreased cost of drawing to market,
together terming a small gain that wonld
make the 50 -cent sale a fair one In a
comparative sense.
The Farmer's Harpy Home.
A recent letter from the superintendent
of farmers' institutes in the state of
Pennsylvania states "that at every two
days' institute bald in the state during
the coming winter the evening session
of the first day is to be set apart to the
ladies, and the topic is to be 'Country
Homes.' All topics relating to home life
in the country will be included, such as
the construction of homes, the heating,
lighting, ventilating and sanitary ar-
rangements for country homes; the
water supply, sewage and plumbing for
houses in the country; the cooking of
food, the care of the sick, the care of
the children; flower gardening, klithen
gardening, house decoration, and all that
relates in any way to comfort, conveni-
ence, health and enjoyment id a country
home."
FOR SMOKING MEATS.
Bow to Improvise a Suitable Souse is
a Few moments.
The approach of the season when
meats are usually preserved: by smoking,'
calls up suggestions in regard to this
subject. One plan is illustrated here-
with. Where one has but a few pieces oe
meat to 'smoke; n smokehouse may' be
improvised in a few anomonts by taking
two empty barrels and arranging thein
in the manner shown in the eut. In the
side of the lower barrel is cut an opera
lag, in which an old kettle is eat filled
with smoldering ohips or corncobs.' The
upper barrel has either hooks In its bore
Comparison of Beef and Milk.
Beef and milk foods for poultry are
valued for their: protein (nitrogenous ale -
men ts,)
lements,) and as there are many who desire
to use milk in place of beef,a comparison
of their value may be of service. There.
are about 20 pounds of protein in the
neck meat of beef (edible portion) and
about 334 pomade of protein in 1,00
pounds of skim -milk. About 6 pounds
of milk may be said, therefore, to equal
one pound of beef used for the protein
contained. The beef is more concentrated,
and also more reeadily consumed, as the
fowls may not bo capable of drinking
enough milk to supply them.: A ration
of both milk and beef should he preferred.
one Cent an Egg.
Tho cost of an egg in the eastern states.
is estimated at one cent, but this depends
on the prices of grain. If meat;mllk;out
bone, chopped clover, 'cooked potatoes,
are given, the cost will be less, not be-
cause the meat: can be purchased at less
,than the grain but because the feeding of
a 'variety and a balanced ration will
induce the hens to lay more eggs. "Phe
greater the number of eggs laid the lower
the cost proportionately,and it is possible
to produce eggs at a Dost of only ball a
cent each. •
IMPROVLSaD SMOKE HOLM.
tom or sides—the bottom of the barrel
now acting uppermost—or has rods pass-
ing through the sides, an which to hang
the meat. A salon hole can be bored In
the barrel's bottom, to give a slight
draft, if needed, while the opening in
front of the kettle can be closed it the
draft proves too strong. A simple little
arrangement of this sort will often do as
much good work as one on which numb
money and labor have been spent.
The same plan is suggested for nee In
fumigating attioles, or for bleaching
articles with burning sulphur. For such
purposes, a tighter chamber is required
than is needed for smoking meat. This
tightness can be secured by wrapping
cloth about the point of union of the two
barrels, while no opening need be made
at. the hate of the lower barrel.—Country
Gentlemen.
.Farmers' 13oVs and Poultry.
We know of no batter plan for ednoet-
ing the boys to remain on the farm than
to interest them In a flock of pure bred
fowls. The boy that owns his flock, and
is Induced to take an active interest In
the birds, will soon have sufficient pride
to be desirous of winning some of the
prizes OS shows, and be will in a short).
?"
time, not only have a knowledge of the,
chnrantoristles of the breed but will also`
know every member of the flock. He
will then have arrived at a,stago of pro-
gress In whinh he will he interested in.
the pedigrees of animals oleo, and know
the families to whioh they belong. He
will also have been edncated to real en-
joyment on the farm and will be success-
ful because he bas learnt that the sorub
on the farm is the curse that has de-
stroyed hundreds of hopes. AU who have
lived on farms oan remember the plea.
sures of watching the progress of the
young colts, calves, lambs, pigs and
chinks, for if there were no young ani-
mals on a farm one-half of the real plea-
sure of form life would be missed. The
beet starting point for the boy on the
farm is with poultry. Give him a few
pure bred fowls, let him own them, and
he will manage for himself.
Live Stock Notes.
If a Dalt is half fed when young it will
never be tha most profitable animal to
keep
In nearly all cases, whenever a boar
has proved a good breeder he should be
kept as long as possible.
A veteran Shorthorn breeder in Ben -
tacky says that there Is a marked im-'
prevenient in demand and price for
young Shorthorn bjills that personally
he cannot till. His orders are at double
the price of a few years agar.
There is quite a task imposed on hens
to get lime for theegg shells. Wheat
and corn contain but very little limo,
and when such foods are given daily;
with no variety, the lane for the shells
may be lacking. Oyster shells may be
allowed,but it Is unsettled as to whether
the shells will supply lime except for a
short time, owing to their insolubility.
The lime In grains and grasses is in a
condition more favornhle.
Bantam chickens were never kept for
utility, because there is nothing prate
Meal about them. They are pets
only and nothing more; the ladles and
children like them because they are so
cunning and self-important. Tate, for
instance, the Black Breasted Red Game
Bantam cock or hen and you have a
very saucy and as its ovine -implies. a
"game" little chicken. On the lawn they
are diminutive beauties, very showy and
attractive. Bantams are never hatched
out before .Taly and August; if batched.
earlier they grow coarse and lose the
pigmy dimensions that are essential to
them and which add to their value.
When: young they are very small, lint'
are .quite hardy, growing very fast when
properly cared for. The White Polish and
Cochin bantams are extremely pretty and
valuable; many of our Asiatic and . Am-
erican breeds of poultry aro found in
these diminutive fowls in perfect count-
erpart,.
Using the Weeds.
There is no better food for ducks and
geese than some of the well known
weeds. .Plantain, purslane,, ragweed and
pigweed are only a few of the deiieaoles
for the aquatic birds,, and they will 're-
quire no .other food. Both ducks and
geese prefer to forage on green food
rather then to subsist on grain and this
fact should encourage the keeping of a
flock ofducks or geese in order to utilize
the foods that would be of no service
but for their aid in consuming them.
1
For Ray Fever.
Hay fever may be treated by inhaling
the vapors of a pint of hot water to
which ten drops ofcreosote have been
added. The nostrils may be sprayed with
a solution of quinine (two grains to the
ounce of water), while some persons find
relief byinserting a tabloid of cocaine
into the nostrils and letting it dissolve,
and exert its action on the nose men:
brans
e.