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The Exeter Advocate, 1897-5-20, Page 2VII, W0.61ati RRYMONO • • "You be e o ten complained, my dear est n: - overwhelming cum oult liter .' ever ha in o y v�, veroomin m extreme distaste /te who works of my own 'lands; and you have always seemed a most unable to take in the fact that had set a' standard to myself which must reach. I have felt like the man wh at every step across the river destroyed the stepping -stone on which his foot had rested, that there might be no retreat. may be altogether successful. If I am not, my work will die with nie. I wil not be a Failure! In almost every subjec I have suet with defeat in my search after perfeetien. You know that my first ao quaintsnce with the sculptures of Greece carried mm away, and induced me to think that human effort could go no fu they. You know bow, by degrees, it came upon me that these glorious works were the ideals of other men, no creatures of my own hand, children of my owu brain My Ceres was destr.syed by an impulse which sent that stepping -:tone far into tee river of the past, Others followed. For a while 1 calve to earth from Olym- pia, and sought perfection in the buman eye and the varying grace of a human ex- pression. Varying: There is the dine tinily. There can be no variation in per- fection. Perfection is passionless. In sunny Italy they told me another tale. They bade me take for my theme the spotless Virgin—the blesssed Mary. But here my hand faltered, my pencil refused to desigu. 'Moly, beautiful, innocent, and chosen as none other bas been chosen, were it not profane to call by her name an ideal the result only of my own teem- ing brain? No, My perfection includes elements that are nut of earth. She is nos a woman, but a combination of at. tributes; and that 'Virgin Mother is too truly womanly to confound with this strange conception of mine." Mrs, Neville let the letter fail, and looked at Audine, "Is this not strange?" she said. "He has never told me so clearly before the curious object of his ambition." "It is strange," repeated Audine, and her brows were knit, trying to take in the meaning, Mrs. Neville took up the letter, and read on:— : "I have been reading lately a great many novels. They Mittel' the same story —that should a man fall in love, at once his ideal is realized. I should have liked much to fall in love; but I fear the rough awakening, the finding out that the ideal is only a pretty woman after all. This is all nonsense, dear mother; but it leads me to the news of my letter. She is coin- ing? she is coming!—this perfection I have craved for so long. I work night and day, and every hour adds to her grace and her loveliness I am already working ,on the marble; the clay has been cast aside. Her fade is completed now, and, looking into it, I oan see renllzed the ideas to which I have so long striven to give expression, I gaze till she almost seems to breathe. Out of the marble grave in which she has Iain enshrined my lady awakes and comes—to-day, a deli- cate hand and arm, over which the soft .colds of her tunio hang. She is very lovely now and I cannot cease working till she is perfeot indeed. So do not come and see me, dear mother, for I could not attend to you now. I can think of noth- ing but the realization of my wildest dreams." • "Surely this is the best of news," cried Audine. "This stat}te must be very beau- tiful to satisfy even him,dear aunt Mary, —are you not glad?" e "Glad 1 ought I to be glad? Yes, I sup- pose I am glad; but somehow I feel a ' sort of horror come over me at the idea of this piece of snow-white perfection!" "The White Queen! he must call her the White Queen!" Dried Audine. enthu- siastically. That evening wben Audina's blue eyes had closed on this busy world, and her senses had left earth, and were wandering in a sweet fairy world, Mrs, Neville, with a careworn brow and clasped hands, paced up and down her room, • "I have not spared either myself or him—I have told her all,"she• muttered. "If she learn to love him, if she prove his salvation, Isbell have doae my duty. I have told her all—she has 'bad warning --little Audine! pretty Audine 1" CHAPTER III. Audine had not completed her toilet the next morning, when the door of her bedroom opened and Mrs, Neville' came in. Tho child was surrounded by her play -fellows, the companions of her life, A parrot bopped obi ut on the table, a Skye terrier sat on its hind -legs begging vaguely, and two little Italian grey- hounds were playing together on a white w{xe11y rug. Audine would have made a pretty pioture in tho midst of her favor- ites, all the mass of her -long soft brown hair on her shoulders, and her large hazel eyes full of fun and merriment. She started up joyfully to greet bar friend. "Dear aunt Mary, good morning! I am znakina all the haste 1 can to be ready for breakfast—please noe't wait for me." "My dear, I am sorry to say that I have come to tell yeu that I shall be obliged to leave you for a few days." "To Jeave mel Oh, where are you go- ing?" "To London. I have a note from Roger Girwood this morning," "Mr. Neville is no, ill, I hope?" "Not yet; but Roger says he is overworking himself terribly He neither eats nor sleeps, but is in his studio working night and day. I have made up my mind to go and see hila, only you will be so lonely." The tears rose to Aedlne's eyes. "I do not know what I shall do," she said. "I wish I might go with you." "Would you? Should you like it.?" crier! Mrs. Neville, eagerly—then added hastily, "perhaps your brother' might not like it." "Ob. George. would not mind; he al- ways let me have my own way. Will yon take me? It would be very dull here alone," she said, ruefully. "Can you be ready? I am going by the twelve o'clock train." "Olt ?es, I will 0811 Burns and have my clothes packed at once." And Audine rang the bell. Up to the last moment Mrs, Neville hesitated whether to allow Audine to accompany her or not; but finding that she had set her heart upon it, and was looking for- ward to a few days in London with keen enjoyment,she put her scruples aside and telegraphed for rooms in the hotel to which she generally went. They arrived in. London about , six o'clock, and sending servants and lugs - gage to the hotel they started in a brougbam for Roger Girwood's stone• yard. It was growing dark when they reached the Thames Embankment, end began to drive by the side of the river. The dark shadowy water was of a deep indigo blue, its stillness disturbed by the long shafts a yellow light xefieoted from the gas lamps. NI'ith a swift rushing sound the • last steamer swept by, bowing its fun- , nal as if with a silent salute as it passed y under the arches of the great bridges. A feeling of solemnity came over Audine 1- as she looked down on the mighty river 1 stored as deeply with seorets as the heart I of a man with thoughts. o They passed trees and houses rapidly, and , now they approached Girwood's yard. It could be seen from a distance, T and known by its strange medley of ob- jects—here a tall obelisk, gleaming white I in the waning light, a couple of lions, a t stately stag, and, most strange of all, the bilge forms of three great figureheads of - ships, each of which could have told its story. of buffeting with storm and wind, of dangers and terrors and anguish and x- likewise of blue skies and rippling seas, of strange birds of gaudy plumage, and warm odors of tropical lands. Weather- beaten and bereft of paint stood' the great Siren, on whose harp the gilding still lin• aered here and there; old Neptune. with 1 long matted hair; and a strange figure with stony oyes that the soldiers had called the Sphinx. They stood like great shadowy ghosts as the carriage drew uF beneath them, and Audine involuntarily caught hold of ber companion's gown. They bad to pink their way across the yard, for'though there was a path, it was strewed with fragments of stone; and on every side of them rose tombs, marble slabs, funeral urns and vases. The docs opened, and good Mrs. Parsons appeared, letting a flood of gaslight blaze in their dazzled eyes. "Bless my hearty ma'am' is it you Well, I'm sure you are welcome. Oome in, ma'am; come in, miss; sit down— master will be rigbt down glad to see you," "Well, Parsons, and bow is Mr. God fret'? Your master's account of him has brought me up to London." "Take a seat, ma'am, and I'll tell you all about him. Master has just stepped out to speak to Honeywood round the coy ner, and will be back in five minutes." "And is Mr. Godfrey at home?" "Yes, ma'am; he's never been outside of his door, not for the last fortnight." She led the way into a large gas -111 room,furnished with some degree of Dom• fort, two horsehair arm'chafrs, a table with a drab table cloth, and in one cornet a very tall desk and stool. Smoothing the table -cloth with her hands, Mrs. Parsons continued to speak, hardly giving berseii time to breathe. "I am sure it was time that you should come, ma'am, for me and master, we have been quite uneasy -like about Mr. Gndfrey; he do eat nothing at all, and looks more like a ghost than the strap. ping young gentleman he was,—and he works awful." "FIs the statue very beautiful, Mrs. Parsons?" "A female it is, ma'am, very tali, and not so very xnuoh to be seen of her. She has a great cloak on, much, as you might say, your waterproof cloak, and she is holding of it up high over her head with " GODFREY, MY 0141C DEAF. B01,1" one hand, and looking down and bend- ing forward. and the other hand is noth- ing but a block of stone as yet—lor! how he do worrit about that hand! Mr. Caste• letti, he told me that what he did in the cast did not please Mr. Godfrey; and he broke off the hand, and wishes to make another in the marble without ever a cast to guide him. The whole studee is full of pictures of hands, open and shut, and straight and twisted, backwards and forwards." "When did Signor Castaletti come?" "Some three weeks back, ma'am. He is pretty nearly always with Mr. God- frey." "And does Mr. Godfrey really work at night?" "That he does, ma'am; and the Etudes such a blaze of light as you'd never be- lieve. I put a glass of wine and biscuit in the door last night, for I was afraid that he might be found stark and stiff in the morning, and him eaten nothing all day." "I think I will go to biro at once," said Mrs. Neville. "Then you won't stop and see master first, ma'am?" "I will see him before I go, Mrs. Par- sons, but we will not wait for him now." Audine, keenly interested and excited, followed Mrs• Neville and the housekeeper to the studio. Thoy bad to cross another yard at the bank of the house, on each side of which were long sheds. The stu- dio was a large square building facing the house opposite; the yard was full of straw, packing oases of various kinds of rubbish, and it was now very dark. Mrs. Parsons opened a small low floor, out of a much larger one, and warning them to step over the low door -sill, they entered and found themselves in Godfrey Ne• villa's scudo. It was brilliantly illuminated with blazing gas-jete, and for a moment they were so dazzled by the glare that they could see nothing. A distant bell sum- moned Mrs. Parsons, who hastily retired across the yard, leaving,the two ladies alone. All seemed perfectly still, and the room had no other 000upants than themselves. The statue stood in a sort of aloove, the light so disposed. as to fall in sharp shadows on the ,marble. Audine was car- ried away by its extreme beauty ---every tiny: fold, every wave of the drapery .told its tale; the face was altogether over- shadowed by the upraised. arm:oupporting her veil, but in the outline of the face, the divine expression of the mouth, she thought she perceived an almost super- natural beauty. Her eye fell on the left hand, and she saw that 1t was as Parson had described, a mere block of stone. thrill of oompassion passed through her 15 was as if this was a, natural deforntit in some exquisitely perfeot living being Behind the statue stood a table ooverad with lowers—tall bluish -green vase tilled with ferns and lilies, a groat bow of oriental china filled with glowing, oriel sonroses,and slender s de Venetian et n glasssa opal -tinted, containing each a cream -col ored Giorie de Dijon or delioate-soente tea-rose;—all bore the:stamp of luxuriou and somewhat effeminate taste. Plaster oasts, and easels covered with drawings were itt every corner of the studio. All rep resented the same objeot—hands in every possible attitude—outstretched; closed some with fingers extended, some in th attitude of beckoning, some of repulsion —it seemed as if an insurmountable diffi oulty had overtaken the artist at this mo meat, and, in consequence, that he had ooased •working. They were still looking in wonder at the scene before them, ,when an inner door opened, and two men oame out of a very small room within, the fore most carrying in one hand a small pias ter -oast of a hand, "I -he madame, is that you?" Dried he, adv'anoing eagerly. "And you havo come up to see Godfrey's Reino Blanche?" "Audine could not help starting as she beard the name she herself had given the statue. ''l•Iow are you, Signor Castaletti? I am delighted to see you in England. Godfrey, my dear boy 1" and Mrs. Neville turned to her son with groat eagerness. Audine and the strange artist looked at each other with a moment's embarrass• went, and then he s:tid:— "Dlaclemoiselle has then seen the statue before Godfrey could have the pleasure of showing it to her?" "We have this moment come in." "Mademoiselle will take a chair?" and be brought one forward. Godfrey Neville and his mother had walked off a little way in earnest talk. "Mademoiselle is fond of scalps?" "Yes, of those I have seen. I have not had many opportunities of seeing them. •' "This one is beautiful. But the hand, only the hand. Inspiration has fled. My friend can only see what is now perfeot; he cannot bring himself to mind how the hand should be represented. Like the German fairy-tale of Elisa and the swans, the garment of inspiration is unfinished, without one sleeve, and the youngest brother goes through life with a wing in- stead of an arm. Snot is the uncertainty of genius." Audine laughed. "Alas for the White Queen 1" she said. The queer little fade of Signor Castaletti as he leant aver hex from the table on which he had"seated himself with dangling legs, struck her at so ridiculous, that when she began tc laugh, she could scaorely stop herself, and the little man laughed also. "Godfrey is pioturesquo, is he net?" be said, pointing to his friend. Godfrey stood showing different parts of the statue tc his mother,with the light full on his hand- some figure. His dress was artistio and picturesque. a dark velvet blouse, with the throat rather open to show a shirt - collar of Byronic dimensions. "Yes, he is very handsome." "Some have that gift, some have others," and he supped his brow with the palm of his hand. "In one respect 1 more than compete with my friend. I never forget what is due to a beautiful female —he bas not even given you the bow," "He did not even see me," said Au - dine, smiling,. "Ab no, no, mademoiselle! not see you. Do not say that. No, no; you whose presence pervades the room!" Audine laughed again. Suddenlyeeod• frey awoke to the consciousness of her presence, and'came hastily towards her. "How are you, Miss Fitzjames?" Audine was startled by the strange ex- cited expression of his face. She had not seen him for a long time, and she thought him very much altered, so thin and so wild -looking. In a few minutes she and Mrs. Neville were standing together before the statue. Castaletti having lowered the gas as low as it would go, slowly passed a torch backwards and forwards, to cause becom- ing shadows. "She is beautiful, the White Queen, is she not?" be kept repeating. Audine fan. oied she caught a sound in his voice that bad not a true ring in it, and the remem• branoe of Circe and the swine flashed across her. On looking at him she found his small penetrating eyes watching het fixedly. "Per Bacco!" he 'exclaimed. "God- frey, look! Do you not see the resem- blance?" and to Audine's confusion and displeasure, he turned the light of the torch full on her face. "It is very striking," said Mrs. Neville, eagerly, Godfrey did not seem to hear. He was dreamily sketching on a scrap of note- paper, a woman's hand. Audine, to turn the conversation from herself, pointed to a rose which had caught in Mrs. Neville's gown, and was half falling front the vase. At this in- stant Godfrey looked up --a look of en- chantment illumined his face. "Do not move for heaven's sake, . do not move your handl keep it as it is,.I implore." • ,Audine could not bele laughing, though blushing crimson with ootifusion. "It is perfeoti the very thing!" cried Castaletti, "Ono finger a little advanced from the other. Would mademoiselle per- mit? Hot water, plaister of Paris -it ie done in the winking of an eye." And in five minutos Audine found hex band tightly enclosed in a warm soft paste, and was desired to keep perfectly still until the oast had set. The two sculptors stood close beside her, both watching eagerly, The clock had straok eleven before Mrs. Neville and Audine found themselves again in their brougham on the way baok to the hotel. "1 do not half like tbat Signor Casta- letti," said Mrs. Neville. "Nor I," said Audine; "there is a curious sarcastic turn of the lips and eye- brows which gives me a feeling of dis- trust. I could never be sure if he was a mere esprit mogour or something. of the malignant sprite,'',: "He is a contrast to Godfrey, is he not?" "Hyperion to a satyr?" "Did you admire the statue very much! It Is curious that it should have a strong look of you, Audine." Mrs. Neville said this with averted bead, looking out of the window, (To Be Continued.) 9PROVERBS OF JERUSALEM. AI.. `wise Sayings That Aro Common Among the People of That City, • No one knows better than the Bible s students how valuable the proverbs, I adages, sayings, eto., of the Arabs are for the understanding , of the Semitic hods f expressing ' mot o sin thought. In these , 1? g g ho e sayings of the Arabs there are often side lights on the proverbial literature of the s; Bible. Probably the most valuable new • collection of proverbs of this kind that , has appeared for years has been pub- - . lished in the Zeitsobrift of the German Palestinesociety (volume 19), The ;; author is Mrs. Lydia Mosier, who all e her life bas lived in Jerusalem, and gives a collection of 206 proverbs gathered in - ' her intercourse with the .people of the -; scored city and its exivirons. We quote a • number as sainples:. "Is your friend made of honey, do not • lick hint away entirely"—i. e., use a friend when an need but do not abuse • "A wise enemy is better than a crazy friend" --i. e., a crazy friend will do you more berm than a wise enemy, • "He who sees his relatives forgets his friends" -1. e., when in the oircle of re- • latives friends are forgotten. "If your neighbor oasts hatred upon ' you, change your door to another side of the house"—i. o„ avoid quarrels. "A house without a neighbor is worth a thousand gold florins." "Search your own House through seven times before you charge your neighbor with theft." "A neighbor svho is helpful is bettor than a brother who is not." "•itvery cock crows loudest on his own manure pile." "Ile has no garments for his legs, but yet he is decorated with flowers," used of a vain plan. "Praise nobody unless you have first tried him." "The gossip of two people can destroy two houses." "Sit rather between two women who are baking bread than between two who are washing"—i. e., the first will give you fresh bread, the latter will bespatter you with water. "By day she • destroys her houses and at night she burns her oil," said of an impracticable woman. "The thread of a diligent woman is as long as the arm; the thread of the lazy woman is as long as the body' —1. e., a diligent woman takes shorter threads in order to be able to sew more guiokly and more firmly, while a lazy woman takes long threads to avoid the trouble of threading the needle. "She now has a house and a nail in the wall," used of a person of lower social order wile has attained to a higher, especially of a poor woman who has married a wealthy husband. "A nail in the wall" is representative of firxnness and the possession of property. (Of. Ezra ix, 8; Iso. xxii, 28.25,) "The family that has educated ice has never deserted me nor withdrawn from me"—i. e., home is the best. "Do good and you will reap good results." "1)o good and cast it upon the ocean" —4. e., do good without any hope of reward. "After they have been bitten they take care of themselves" --1. e., a burned child fears the fire. "We can get nothing without payment except blindness and deafness." "Bather spit on the hand than kiss it" —1. e., have self respect and work. "Take care that you may not with your tongue out off your head"—i. e., that by inconsiderate words you may bring evil upon yourself, "The offal of your barnhouse is better than the wheat of strangers." "Try to teach one advanced in years wisdom is just like whipping an ass" —1. e., nothing is accomplished. "A single borrowed seed can destroy a field"—i. e., a farmer who begins to bor- row corn will always get deeply into debt. "A borrowed dress does not keep warm." "It is better to clothe oneself with straw matting than with a borrowed dress," "He who has drunk out of a well should not throw a stone in it"—i. e., be grateful and appreciate favors. • more Likela. Ted—I read a joke about s fellow find- ing a 16 bill in his old spring atxitelo lI went to the moth chest and resurreiled mine. Ned—What kind of a bill did you fin P Ted -One for the suit, -Neve Yorkatt- day JournaL . _. . Japan's Fartt,qualte Center. The northeast coast of Hondo, the largest of the Japanese Islands. extends nearer than any other land to the tremendous submarine hole in the earth's crust known as the Tuscarora Deeps. This is the deepest part of the ocean so far as men know; it is almost as deep as the topmost peak of the Himalayas is higb. Throughout its hundreds of miles of width and breadth there are submarine volcanos. The seismic pbilosaphers think that through some volcanic upheaval in these depths earthquake vibrations were transmitted along the ocean bottom to the shore, and a sudden rise in the water's level sent the tidal wave on its errand of destruc- tion. The earthquake shooks, which travel at a rate of speed varying from two to twenty utiles a second, reached the shore first. Thoy were mild for quaky Japan, and it was not until 8.80 in the evening, an hour and a half later, that the slower -moving waves of water were announced by portentions booming sounds. Only four miles away from the coast fishermen were unaware of the presence of any .extraordinary wave. But when the en -moving volume of water r ached the steep sides of the sea bo t:.u.a and mounted up to the shallow places the wave grew to a heightof 20 to 80 feet, and hurled itself in to the inlets and bays of the hapless land, overwhelm- ing, with contempuous ease, the feeble dikes which the Japanese fishermen and rice planters bad built to defend their low-lying homes. Cxirls' Lyeees in France. The gravest accusation against girls' lycees by the group of retrograde think- ers is that they are "badly made up." Good society still holds aloof, but begins to understand that the absence of reli- gious instruction does not by any means imply systematic hostility to faith; for parents, and the church they belong to, are at liberty to develop this, and the necessary time is allowed for it. The war on these recent establishments is, in short, a partisan war. Lyoees are destined to take the place of the board -schools of former days; for the latter are gradually disappearing or transforming themselves Into daily course (classes) where women absorbed by their social duties, or fortunate enough to be wanted by their husbands, will wisely send their daughters. The day when girls' colleges triumph' in Trance. there will be many more analogies between French and American women than there are now.-: "About French Children," by Th..Ben- ton, in the Century. ,ffESERY BY SHEEP POWER. Duck Gets Herewith a Lesson In Athletic Ouiture. When a big, old sheep gets fat and Iazy and inclined to butt at the chil- dren, take the misobief out of bins by giving him a turn at the treadmill. A small treadmill is not very expensive and is eminently useful. Any small aui- mal, sheep, dog, calf or even a little pony can be broken in to separate the Dream, churn; saw wood or operate a washing machine. A friend of ours says when he was a boy on the farm his grandfather had an old dog whose task it was to churn sev- GIVING IIIA ESE?CISE. eras times a week by working a tread- mill. After a year or two of this kind of work it was observed that on churn- ing mornings the old dog could not be found. He knew churning day as well as his mistress did, and when it came was accustomed to take to the woods. A sheep has not so much sense as that. A sheep weighing from 150 to 200 pounds will run an ordinaxy small sized tread power ver' well and be all the better for the exercise. On a farm hand power should be saved as much as pos- sible, so as to let the nervous energies flow into the human brain. Farmers need to use their brains even more than their hands to make a living in these times, Spare your arms and back as much as possible and use your brains more. While the sheep, calf or dog sep- arates cream and does the churning you may be attending to something else, Dose the Horn Ply. You ask your readers what they are doing to rid their dairies of the pestilent Texas horn fly. Until the present season it has been up hill work with me to prevent the myriads of these tormentors from having tbeir own way, but, thanks to the kerosene sprayer, the battle seems won, for with it one can destroy them en a herd of 30 cows in three minutes or so and not use more than one gill, and a half grown boy can do the work as well as a man. The article is simply a half pint cup, half covered on top, with a round tube, one-eighth of an inch in diameter, pass- ing through the covered side of cup near the edge and soldered fast, extending down near the bottom of cup and a lit- tle above the top. Across the top is sol- dered a Sat tube, some 10 inches long and tapering, one end an iamb wide and the other one-fourth or fire -sixteenths of an inch and placed against the top of the small tube. With this the operator stands behind the animal (on one side) and with a single blast sends a, cloud of spray lengthwise. He then serves the other side in like manner, and the job is done and the cow freed from her tor- mentors, which die almost instantly.— James Bullis in Hoard's Dairyman. For a Producers' Company. Let the state association begin opera- tions with an authorized capital of $10,000, with from $8,000 to $5,000 paid up. There should be a central house, where the greater part of the butter would be consumed, with au eastern correspondent to take the sur- plus. Subscribers to the company would be required to make butter that would pass local inspection. The local inspect- or would be a local dealer who would receive and inspect the butter from his section, sbippiug it weekly by refriger- ator car. He would advance 50 per cent on the goods, giving weights, price, etc„ on a check which would be cashed in 30 or 60 days. The dealer is to receive 1 cent a pound for his services. Light Bleaches Butter. Light has au effect on the butter col- or, as I have found distinctly. Tho dairy in which the butter is kept while making or resting and for the final working should be darkened by shades, so as to avoid this effect: Or the butter should be protected by a covee impreg- eaeble to the light. The light has a bleaching effect, and this is especially marked when the butter is put away in a gashed or flaky condition, by which one side of the flakes is exposed to light and the other side is in the shade. My practice has always been to cover the butter in the bowl with a doubled tow- el to protect it from the light, however dull it may be.—H. Stewart in Country Gentleman. The Curing Ttoom. Cheese is only half made when placed in the curing room, and its value de- pends largely upon how it is treated there. The temperature should be con- stant and should be from 60 to 65 de- grees. If the temperature is too high, the cheese will go off flavor, if too low or uneven will not cure properly. The stove should be placed in the center of the curing room and should have a jack- et around it to prevent the heat from striking the cheese nearest the stove. The jacket should also be a few inches from the floor, so that the cold air may pass under it and rise above as it heats, thus causing a complete circulation of warm airthrough the room. MAKING ICE CREAM. Here Ts Paying Business For Creamery Hen and Dairymen. The first. Saturday's sale of ioe cream this year brought $22.89 from cream that if made into butter word have brought $5.52. This ico cream trade has developed from a small beginning and was the outcome of a desire to find a milk product that would yield better re- tUrns than butter. Mr, Edward Manchester gives the credit for starting the business to his daughter in-law. She first suggested that pure cream of uniform grade and flavor would be sure to sell. According- ly they began to freeze cream, and a room was opened in town for retail or wholesale trade. The first season one of the sous, George E„ and his wife went to town and conducted the room them- selves. From that beginning the busi- ness has grown every year, for the cream has advertised itself wherever it has been sold. This ico cream is pure cream, sugar and flavoring. The milk, as it comes from the barn in cans, is set in a tank of spring water, which stands at about 40 degrees winter and summer. The cream is skimmed in 12 hours. To a _ piton of cream a pint of sugar is add- , ed, with flavoring extract to suit the ' taste. No fruit extracts are used, but' the pare fruit is cut up in gn Enterprise • meat choppt'r and stirred directly into the cream, There is no great amount of beating, stirring and frothing, as is the case when a custard is made and named "manse" The freezing is done ha a side room of the creamery. The icehouse is close: at hand, and everything is kept as oleanj as scouring and steam will make it. Shafting from the engine is run over- head, verhead, so that four freezers can be fun' at once. This shafting is homemade,? like many other contrivances about the; place. Freezers of four or five gallons capacity are used. They were formerly run by hand, but now the engine does all the turning. The mixed cream, sug- ar and flavoring are put into the freezer and the cover fitted on in the usual way. A cake of ice is brought in from the icehouse, broken by striking it with the fiat side of the an and then crushed with a maul. This is done in a movable box or frame placed on the floor. The freezer is put in the tub and surrounded with ice and salt. Then the belt is attached, and the freezer slowly revolves. Tile point is to have the turning stop at jest the proper time. An experienced handl can tell by the way the freezer turns when to stop, but a beginner is liable to get it wrong unless he examines it from time to time. After the cream has reached the proper consistency the dash- er is removed and the can is packed in ice and salt all ready for shipment.' Neapolitan cream is made by spreading layers of different flavors in a tin box and then freezing it all together. There is not much that is new about making ice cream, because thousands of farmers make it at home for their own use. There ought really to be an ice cream freezer in every family that sup- ports a cow. There are details about freezing and handling the cream that a careful men will pick up by ea-perientre.. There are several good reasous for Mr. Manchester's success. He uses nothing but absolutely pure cream—no milk, eggs or starch, This Dream, when frozen, does not show such a firm and solid body as the starch creams, but custom -j ers soon overlook that when they dnce get a taste of it. The pure, fresh cream taste is something that drives customers back for more. As a matter of fact, such cream is a better and more agreeable medicine than cod. liver oil or other sub- stances that depend upon fats for their chief benefit. Our belief is that there are hundreds of farmers in this country who might find in ice cream a new and profitable source of income. As a rule vve think that this business will pay best near smaller towns and cities, where there are no large ice cream factories, and where more or less cream is imported. i We would advise a small beginning., Make nothing but pure cream of the: finest quality and establish a reputation, for making uniform goods. Get a fecal customers first among friends and let, them advertise your product, Finally' you can either open a room of your own or make arrangements with some near; dealer to sell your cream at retail. In this same place you can sell milk, pot-, cheese, butter and eggs. To be succssfula requires cleanliness, promptness, shrewd ness and business tact, but we feel con fident that ,'lir. Manchester's succes may be duplicated in 1,000 towns in( this country. Why cannot you be one of the 1,000 dairymen to share in suoh' success? -Cor. Rural New Yorker. i Dairy and Creamery. Two hundred cows will keep a cream- ery going if they can furnish 4,000 pounds of milk daily. Five hundred cows would not suffice for it unless they yielded that much. In considering the question of starting a creamery you must find out whether the cows within reach are able to give 4,000 pounds of milk per day. Listen not to the honeyed words of the creamery shark who wants to sell machinery. Take counsel rather of the inner light of your own common 80080. A little New York Jersey heifer less than 14 months old last winter dropped a fine bull calf and is giving plenty of milk. A creamery cannot be made to pay that only runs eight months a year. The best system is that which taker up cbeesemaking in summer and butter making in winter. • From $2,000 to $2,500 will bere- quired to build and start a creamery. It is a poor time now to start in the creamery business except in localities where there are plenty of dairy cows and no creamery already- upon the ground. The prices of dairy products are low, and the risk of a new creamery is great. It is best at present to bring those already established up to the high- est efficiency.