HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1897-7-15, Page 2LOCK THROUGH MINE EVES WITH
THINE.
Look through mine eyes with thine. True: wife,
Round my true heart thine arms intwine.
My other dearer life in life,
Look through nxy very soul with thin)
Untouched with any sliarta of years,
May those kind eyes forever dwell!
Tlxey have not shed a many tears.
Dear eyes, since first I knew them well
Yet tears they shed. They had their part
Of sorrow , for when time was ripe
The still aiiection of the heart
Became an outward breathing type,
That into stillness passed again
And left a want unknown before,
Although the loss that brought us pain,
That loss but made us love the more.
With farther lookings on. The kiss,
The woven arms, seem but to be
Weak symbols of the settled bliss,
The comfort, I have found in thee.
taut that God bless thee, dear, who wrought
Two spirite to one equal mind,
With blessings beyond hope or thought,
With blessings which no words can find..
—Tennyson.
AN AERIAL FLIGHT.
s I stood on. the latticed roof of the
rickety grape arbor, partially support-
ing myself by the tips of my fingers as
I clung to the second story window sill.
Marie leaned as far out as was con-
sistent with safety and rested her hand
caressingly on my shoulder. Although
my love for the maiden was intense, I
could not for a moment forget the un-
certainty of my foothold, neither could
I forget that the sleeping room window
of my sweetheart's father was direotly
beneath me.
"Never!" he bad said, when I offer-
ed myself to him as a prospective son-
in-law. "Never! No daughter of mine
shall marry a penniless inventor."
During the many stolen interviews
which had followed the adverse deci-
sion of the obdurate parent we had die -
cussed the situation from all points, and
ever with the same results. At last we
had decided to separate for a season
that I might the mare fully devote my
time to the solution of the problem by
evolving from my mental workshoe
some practical creation which would
bring to me both fame and fortune.
Marie was -•a modern woman in every
respect. She had been caught on the
psychological wave that was sweeping
around the world and was familiar with
all the 'osophies and 'elegies that no-
companied the movement. She was an
adept in mind reading and fairly profi-
oient in the later science of telepathy.
"Watch for messages, dear Jack,"
she whispered, as she gave my shouldei
a gentle pat and drew herself within
the window. "You will hear from me
often. Perhaps I naay need you. Who
can tell?"
At this point the brittle frame be-
neath my feet cracked ominously, and
without further farewells I clambered
down and started out on my mission.
Ted Brown, my college chum and
confidant, was fully as enthusiastic as
myself over the many experiments and
inventions I had essayed, and when he
heard my story be entered heartily intc
my plans, which, if perfected, would
revolutionize modern traffic and travel.
One month Iater found us in the
heart of the Rocky mountains and fax
from the beaten trail of prospector,
sportsman or adventurer.
Our paok animals were already be-
ginning to show signs of collapse, so se-
vere had been the fatigues of the moun-
tain journey.
Realizing the imprudence of farther
advance skyward, we were aboutto turn
back and seek some sheltered valley in
a milder atmosphere, when I felt a gen-
tle pressure on my shoulder. Involun-
tarily 1 turned, expecting to see my
.comrade beside me, only to find him
several feet away, pulling with all his
might the cinch strap on. one of the
pack animals. I lifted my foot to the
stirrup, and again I felt the pressure
on my shoulder, this time more forcibly
than before, and a voice -I could sweaz
it was Marie's—sounded in my ear:
"Turn to the right."
In an instant her parting words flash-
ed upon my mind, and almost uncon-
sciously I turned in the direction indi-
cated.
What could I do? Our plans were al-
ready made. Should I yield, bow could
I explain to Ted in a satisfactory man-
ner this sudden change in our move -
events?
Suddenly, without waiting for the
dreaded explanation, I shouted to him
as I sprang to my saddle, leaving him
to follow, as Iwas quite sure he would.
As I drew near the mountain a zig-
zag seam, which reached from the sum
snit downward, developed into a well
defined cleft, broadening at the base,
learirg an opening a few feet wide,
thn;..:;h which I recklessly plunged
ay] et ut a thought of what danger
anil;ht await me.
Scarcely half .a dozen steps brought
me out into an open space.
In ages agorae some terrible subterra-
nean upheaval had partially cleft the
peak, and through all the countless
years that had followed the action of
frost and water bad gradually worn
and crumbled the sides of the gorge un-
til there was formed an open circular
space several feet-' in diameter and near-
ey surrounded by a solid wall of rock.
It is needless to go into details con.
eeriling the progress of the work. There
were the .usual seascale of experiment
and failure, of hope anti despondency,
but through it all the great creature.
grew, until it nearly filled the little cir
cuter space.
A long, slender, hollow body, fitted
up with a motor and comfortable seats;
a -huge pair of outspread canvas wings,
and a fan shaped rudder, altogether ran
like any other aerial sailer that had yet
spade its appearance. And during all
the time occupied in the construction of
this birdlike navigator I had been so of-
ten encouraged and advised when ap-
parent failure confronted me by the
same voice that bad led me to thespot
that it really seemed as if Marie was as
fully identified with the success of my
undertaking as myself.
"All aboajd I" shouted Ted as we took
Our seats and opened the valves that
controlled the mysterious power.
Straight as an arrow and as swift we
arose from the .little inclosure, The sky
was 'starlit and ,.olour, and the whole
panorama of the rough and ragged coun-
try was fast disappeariug before we
.thoroughly realized that our venture
was a success. We movedat a fearful
pace, judging by our aerometer, which
clicked with the regularity of a clock as
it marked the wiles: and degrees, •
At dawn our aerial navigator was
safely anchoredwithin the rook in
closure, and we were wrapped in our
blankets under our tents. Ned was soon
suoring, but, excited and unnerved as 1
was, I could not sleep and at last threw
the blankets aside and entered the in -
closure to feast my eyes on my treasure.
I closed my eyes and soon was lost to
consciousness until the familiar pressure
of fin ;er tips on my shoulder awakened
me tc the well known voice sounding
in my ear:
"Jack, Jack, come quick!"
There was an earnestness in the tones
I had never yet heard, which brought
to my recollection Marie's parting
words:
"Perhaps I may need you. Who can
tell?"
Evidently Marie was in trouble, and
I must go to ber, and we began making
preparations for our departure.
Our most valuable belongings, with
food and water sufacieut for the jour-
ney, were packed within the ship's look-
ers, and our tents stored within the in-
closure. As darkness approached we un-
hitched the anchor chain from the sta-
ple in the wall of rock and started.
At midnight we were hovering over
Marie's home. We dropped downward
until I could outline the house and
grape arbor. With a few hurried words
to Ned I sprang lightly to the roof.
The window was open, and the next
instant my sweetheart was leaning out-
ward, with her hand on my shoulder
in the old familiarmanner, pouring her
woes into my ears.
"Just think of it, Jack. Papa is de-
termined that I shall marry Cousin
Tom. The cakes are baked and in the
pantry. ' The guests are all invited for
the wedding tomorrow and the license
is on the library table. What can we
do?"
Of course there was but one thing to
do, and that we did without delay.
Marie stole quietly down into the libra-
ry and secured the license; How simule
a matter to erase one name and subeti
tate another, .And while she was about
it, with her usual forethought she con-
fiscated the bride's cake. This, with
her wardrobe and jewels, was passed
through a window, and then I signaled
to Ted.
Tho ship settled down like a huge
bird on the grape arbor. Marie gave a
little shriek as we stepped on board,
causing Ted for an instant to lose con-
trol of the lever. There was a crash of
splintering pine as the grape arbor gave
way beneath our combined weight.
Straight upward like a rocket vee
arose for 1,000 feet or more. As we
turned the searchlight on the wreck we
saw a figure clad in a long, whitenight-
robe gazing at us, and a voice, trem-
bling with rage, called:
"Marie, come down here!"
"Poor papa."—Chicago Tribune.
Couldn't Be Deceived.
Dennis McCarty, a true son of Erin,
was suing his neighbor, William Smith,
for damages occasioued by the defend-
ant's carelessness in allowing his don-
key to escape from his stable and tres-
pass upon plaintiff's premises, thus do-
ing much mischief in his garden.
McCarty stepped into the witness
box to give evidence in support of bis
case, and when he had finished the law-
yer who appeared for the defendant pro-
ceeded to cross examine him.
"Now do you mean to say that all.
this injury to the property of which.
you speak was caused solely by Smith's
donkey?"
"Sartinly, sor."
"Oh, indeed; and where did yon first
see this animal which you declare has
been the source of so mach mischief?"
"I saw him tied up in defendant's
sthable, '
"Yes, and where did you next see
him?"
"On my primises, to be stare."
The lawyer now saw his chance and
in his best manner pressed the question.
"How did you know it was the same
donkey?"
"How did I know?" was the derisive
exclamation. "If I saw yez tied up in a
sthable don't yez suppose I'd know ye
when yez got loose?"
The plaintiff was -excused from fur-
ther evidence.—Spare Moments.
Get Trusted For Their Fares.
It is perhaps not generally known,
even in Brooklyn, that persons of re-
spectable appearance ,may travel on the
street cars of that city when they have
no money. A woman who has left her
purse at home or a man who has spent
all his change speculatingin stocks, if
ordinarily well dressed, has only to tell
the conductor the condition of affairs,
on boarding a car, to get carried to any
desired point.
The conductor gives the penniless
passenger an envelope addressed to the
office of the company, in which to for-
ward later the lacking nickel. This is
done as a matter of course, and only a
passenger who looks disreputable meets
with refusal,
The system has been in :operation.
some time, which is apparent proof that
the passengers who thus get trusted for
their fares use the envelopes given them
for the purpose for which they are in-
tended.—New York Sun.
The Distinction Was There.
"You women," said he in the pecu-
liarly exasperating way a man has of
saying 'those two words, "You women
buy bargain things because they are
cheap,
"We do not," said she- "We buy
things because theybargains,"
cheap are �.
The distinction was almost too oubtle
for the blundering maponline intellect,
but it was there, -Indianapolis Journal.
THE SWEET, SAD YEARS.
The sweet, sad years, the' sun, the rain—
Alas too quickly did they wane!
For each some boon, some blessing bore.
Of smiles and tears each had its store,
Its checkered lot of bliss and. pain.
Although it idle be and vain,
Vet cannot I the 'wish restrain
That I had held them evermore-
The sweet, sad yearsl
Like echo of an old refrain
That long within the mind has lain,
I keep repeating o'er and o'er,
"Nothing can e'er the past restore,
Nothing bring back the years again"—
The sweet, sad -years!
—Canon hell iii Leisure Hour.
OFF AT TI3E METER.
Vernal Choice was a pretty and com-
modious villa and Dovecottam a select
and salubrious suburb. To the happi-
ness of Mr. and Mrs. Maurice Green-
lately made almost complete by the ar-
/Ival of the veriest cherub that ever
came down from heaven—there were
but two drawbacks. The first was of
Maurice's making. He had a. ridiculous
fool about gas fittings. He believed them
to be in a chronic state of leakiness. He
told his long suffering wife almost
daily that morn gas escaped through
unsuspected cracks and defective joints
than served to illuminate the cozy
MOMS of Vernal Choice.
Mrs. Maurice Green's bugbear was
burglars. Nothing could shake her con-
viction that when a burglar took his
"dark suburban way" his objective
would be, by decree of fate, Vernal
Choice. Thus it came to pass that
nightly, while Maurice was turning off
the gas at the meter—he would on no
account allow any one else to do it, as
"gas is such a fickle thing"—his little
wife was on her knees in the bedroom,
not, as might be supposed, saying her
prayers—though she made the same
kneeling serve both purposes—but tim-
idly peering under the flowered terra
cotta valances for the burglar that never
came.
Sometimes it would happen that the
gas popped out just as she was in the
aot of raising the bnrtain that might
reveal the tragedy of her life, and then,
with a little scream, she would seek
the matches—she never could put her
hand readily on the matches—and light
the delicately shaded candle on the
dressing table, ere proceeding with her
search and ber devotions- At such times,
when Maurice ascended fromthe under-
ground regions where the gas meter
meted out its dole to the company of
bis wife above stairs, she would rate
him right soundly for so gentle a little
body for what she styled his "absurd
fad" about turning the gas off.
"What do a few extra feet of gas sig-
nify, when three precious lives might
some night be sacrificed for lack of a
light?" she would exclaim, with as
much dramatic fervor as if she had
been before a row of footlights and a
crowded pit instead of a blue tinted,
corrugated candle and a mildlysrornful
husband.
When Maurice wished to be wither-
ing, he was always studiously allitera-
tive in his choice of words. He never
failed to pooh-pooh the burglar notion.
He said it was "the merest moonshine,"
and that there were "crowds of costlier
cribs to crack than Vernal Choice, you
bet."
Mrs. Green, as a rule, deigned no
answer. She hated slang and wondered
how a man of Maurice's sense—except
upon the meter question—could stoop
to its use. She generally refrained from
saying so, however, like the sensible
little woman she was, and, resignedly
filling the baby's feeding bottle and
tucking the little cherub, with sundry
oroonings, in its bedside cot, retired for
the night, leaving Maurice to blow out
the corrugated candle.
. . . . - . . a
It was winter and it was midnight.
Manrice had a cold, and so had the ba-
by. The "little cherub," in fact, had a
"touch of bronchitis," and his hard
breathing as he slumbered restlessly in
his little cot plainly testified the fact
through the darkness.
"I wonder," murmured Mrs. Green,
as she lay listening to the troubled
breathing of the child on the one hand
and the influenza snore of her husband
on the other—"I wonder if the little
pet is warm enough. I'm anxious about
his little chest, bless him. I'd take him
into any bed, only Maurice doesn't like
it. The •little fellow kicks the clothes
off so. What could I do to prevent him
from taking cold afresh? Happy
thought!" There's that little woolen
wrap in the spare bedroom. It's either
in the middle drawer of the dressing
table or in the wardrobe, I know. Poor
Maurice! He would willingly go and
find it for me, but I wouldn't disturb
him tonight for the world. I'm glad I
succeeded in persuading him to sleep in
bis dressing jacket. Those nasty influ-
enza colds need care, and I'm so apt to
uncover him in reaching over to baby.
I'll slip into the next room myself."
Thus soliloquizing she quietly got of
bed -for where baby came iu fear flew
out -pushed the turned back bed clothes
gently against her husband's back, so
that he would not miss her, and proceed-
ed to feel for the matches. The little
receptacle at the bed head was empty.
Not a match. "Oh, dear, dear, why
will Maurice " insist upon turning the
gas off at the meter, especially when
baby is unwell?" ebe sighed as she
slipped into her dressing gown, which
fortunately was hanging on the brass
knob at the foot of the bed.
Slippers she could not find Nil des
perandum 1 She knew to a foot where
the wrap was, or at least she thought
she did, and she would know it the
moment she laid a finger on it. The lit-
tle cherub in the cot coughed in a chok-
ing manner. Light or no light, the wrap
must be found, and without further de-
lay the little mother walked gingerly
into the next room.
No one could fail to ;find the ward-
robe, as it was the ant article of furni-
ture encountered on entering the room.
When its door stood open, it was possi-
ble to view oneself from the bedroom
door, for it consisted or a three quarte
length mirror in which Mrs. Green was
wont to inspect the "hang" of her lat.
est costume.
"I'm almost sure it's in the dressing
table drawer," mused Mrs. Green,
growing accustomedto the darkuese
and assisted by a suspicion of moonlight
that shed a pale, uncertain light both
through the skylight on the landing and
the window opposite the wardrobe. Act,
ing upon this thought, she ignored the
wardrobe for the present, crossed the
room to the dressing table, and after
-sundry clickings of little brass handles,
and tentative pulls at wrong drawers at
last opened the right one, but failed tc
feel the wrap.
"It must be in the wardrobe after
all," she thought, and accordingly clos-
ed the drawer with 'some noise, tripped
across the dark room, opened the ward-
robe door with some difficulty and bur-
ied herself in its spacious recesses.'
Maurice was a heavy sleeper, and
consequently apt to be a bit bemuddled
on first awaking—more especially in the
dark. On this particular night, after ap-
parently dreaming for a full fortnight
of "excursions and alarums," he awoke
with a violent start. The room, to him,
was pitch dark. There was not even the
suspicion of moonlight on this side of
the house. Besides, the blinds were
down. He sat up, every nerve and sin-
ew taut now. He was fully awake.
"By jingo," he breathed, and be felt
the cold sweat start to bis brow, "she
was right! They've come." He put out
his hand to wake bis wife. He felt hes
tore under the bulging bedclothes al
bis side. He could hear the baby breath-
ing huskily. There was only one other
person in that house unaccounted for.
I'hat was the little servant maid. But
why should she be trying drawers in
the spare bedroom? No, they had come,
after all. Mrs. Green was right. It was
burglars.
Maurice withdrew his hand, which
rested an the hillock by his side, with
the thought: "I'll not waken her, pooz
soul, She'd be scared to death. I'll
know the worst first." So thinking,
and with a sort of infatuation—which
wasperhaps bravery—to get a glimpse
of the marauder, he stole out of bed,
buttoned up bis dressing jacket, took
the little bedside chair by the back, and
thus armed, his heart beating like a
-muffled drum, stealthily turned the cor-
ner between the two rooms.
A faint light Dame through the land-
ing skylight. Heavens! The villain
was at the other end of the room, right
opposite the door. What he was doing
he could not make out, for he looked
like a man seen through mist. Tlae
wretch! Just then the draft along
the landing took Maurice shrewdly on
the bare legs. The influenza asserted it-
self. He fought against it desperately
for a moment. It but augmented the
force of the explosion. Like a thunder,
bolt he sneezed.
There was a muffled exclamation in
the room. Maurice rushed forward with
uplifted chair. The burglar, too, had
seized a chair and was making at him
with equal fury. Crash! The house'
seemed to have fallen. There was a
fearful clatter of falling glass, a pierce
ing shriek, the sound of a body falling
on the floor, and all was still but for the
wail of the frightened babe iu the room
he bad left.
What had he done? He kneeled down,
careless of broken glass, andhis band
rested on a bare foot. Sick with appre-
hension, he groped elsewhexe and en-
countered a plaited head and a few curl-
ing pins. "A match, a match, nay king.
dom for a match!" he would doubtless
have said had he not been so terribly
upset.
Just .then a rectangle of light ap-
peared and increased until, pale and
trembling, stood the little maid in the
doorway, a farthing dip in her hand,
amazed to see the following tableau
vivant: A wardrobe door swinging.
upon its hinges, with its long mirror
smashed to fragments; a chair, with a
broken leg, lying close by; a horrified
man in anightshirt and dressing jacket,
kneeling at the feet of a prostrate wom-
an in a dead faint, a dressing gown and
plaits, who was none other than the
horrified man 's.wife.
Maurice Green never turns the gas oft
at the meter now except when be takes
his wife and family away for the sum-
mer holiday. Mrs. Green still looks' un-
der the bed for possible burglars before
retiring for the night, but Maurice has
never dared to chaff her since he mis-
took his own faint reflection in the
wardrobe mirror for a desperate burglar.
—London Tit -Bits.
"Rope Cure" For Grasshoppers.
The intelligence of scent of the red
legged grasshopper enables it to select
its food while on the wing in the air,
where, -by some process of signaling
known only to itself, it gathers a great
army of its kind to descend with mass-
ed force on the field beneath when a 45
acre t.ud of corn will only afford them
a single meal.
Last year the grasshopper reports sent
to the University of Nebraska at Lin
coin caused apprehension of an inva-
sion this year, as great quantities of
eggs had been deposited in the soil over
a large area of country, and those eggs
are expected to furnish an army of ac-
tive "locusts," as they are technically
named.
Farmers call them "hoppers," but
the college entomologist talks knowing-
ly of "M. Atlantis," Paokardi" and
"Camnula pellucida."
.Lu ' Utah they have what they call a
"rope cure" for the pest, and every
man,' woman and child takes part in
-the performance. It consists of draw-
ing ropes, held taut by persons at eaeh
end, across the back, over the fields of
grain, so ; that Mr. Grasshopper obeli
not find any room for the sole of his
foot,, and they keep this seesaw up un-
til he is starved out
No doubt the agricultural' college will
find a way to meet another visitation
with some exterminating process, :when
the migratory locust will <migrate to a
"lime where he will disturb no more,
whither forbears of his ilk have gone.
ABOUT POTATOES.
Experiments at the New Hampshire Sta-
tion—Variotles Talked About.
Eighty 'varieties of potatoes were test-
ed last season at the Now Hampshire
station. In a report on results little
hesitancy is felt in recommending such
varieties as White Star, Rural New
Yorker No. 2, Ameriean Wonder, Car-
man No. 3, Governor Rusk and Sir Wil-
liam, as these have been reported on
favorably from so many sections. Re-
garding Jess known varieties, time must
decide on their merits. dust because a
certain variety has given a fair yield
this year it does not follow that it will
do equally well next season. The causes
of variation from year to year in the
same variety cannot be due to the soil
alone, It is not uncommon to be able to
select two bills of the same variety side
by side, the one far more productive
than the other.
The 15 varieties giving the heaviest
yield in order of productiveness at this
station were Reeve's Rose, White Rose,
a�1•
n
ON"larty T
orougllbred
POTATOES 05' PROMISE.
Pink's Perfection, Governor Rusk,
Woodbury White, Sir William, Quick
Crop, Woodhull's Seedling, Vaughan,
White Mountain, Late Puritan, Queen
of the Valley, Ring of the Roses, Leon-
ard's Favorite and White Star, The first
named yielded 458 bushels per acre and
the last 306 bushels. The average pro-
ductiveness of all varieties per acre was
244 bushels. There was very little dif-
ference in the effectiveness of muriate
and sulphate of potash on potatoes. One
appears to be about as effective as the
other. Those treated with corrosive sub-
limate gave on an average 103 per
cent less scab than those untreated, or
about 25 bushels to the acre.
Potatoes attracting attention and con-
sidered sufficiently promising to be the
subject of illustration are Country Gen-
tleman, medium late, rose color, shallow
eyes; Hcnevyc Rose, good size, shallow
eyes; Early Thoroughbred; White Ohio,
claimed by introducer to be the earliest
white potato; Rose No. 9, a late red
variety; Uncle Sam, heavy yielder of
tubers of fine quality.
The Sir William potato is reported to
be a vigorous and prolific late variety
which did well at the New Hampshire
station. Professor Green of the Ohio
experiment station, after having grown
it on different kinds of soils for two
Sir
i
•
years, says, "It is au almost ideal pota-
to, both for home use and for market."
Dr. I. B. Chamberlain of the Ohio
Farmer claims it to be the best potato
he ever grew.
Reeve's Rose, which heads the list
for productiveness at the New Hamp-
shire station, is grown extensively by
the Jersey and Long Island truckers.
It is rather deep eyed, pink in color,
slender and oblong in shape and sec-
ond early in ripening, with strong,
vigorous tops.
Improved Onion Culture.
The new onion culture, as most read-
ers ought to know by this time, is sow-
ing the seed in boxes or elsewhere and
later setting out the plants. One advan-
tage gained by this method is gaining
time. Prepare the ground, and if free
from weeds and in good tilth when the
young plants are set the weeds do not
catch up.
A Connecticut station bulletin sums
up the advantages thus: Insures a clean
crop, even on smutty land. Minimizes
the loss from out worms. Crop is three
or four weeks earlier. Crop is 50 per
cent larger with native varieties, and
the increase may be 100 per cent with
foreign. Individual bulbs are larger and
Mature more evenly. The time and la-
bor are less than in outside sowing, with
consequent thinning and weeding.
Cutting Alfalfa.
If weeds appear to be crowding the
young plants,; run over the field with a
mower, elevating the cutting bar suffi-
ciently to avoid injuring the crowns of.
the young plants. Leave the clippings,
if light, as a mulch to protect the crop
during the dry weather. Frequently the
alfalfa will make growth enough' to al-
low of cutting one or even two crops
the first year, but usually the first good
yield will be that of the second year.
The yield will increase for three or four
years, and then may remain constant
for ten years or more, perhaps indefi-
nitely, but ordinarily it will pay to
plow up the field after six or eight
years, as weeds are liable to work in-
creasing injury. -Bulletin New York
Station.
ese
FODDER AND FORAGE..
Seeding. Grass In Fodder Corn According
to a Vermont Practice.
The winter of 1840-7 was a severe
one for meadows, and especially the
newly seeded fields: The ground was
frozen deeply and some of the time bare
and partly covered with ice„ The young
clover is largely killed, while on older Ir
meadows the grass is more or less in-
jured. Some of the fields will have to
be plowed and either sown with grain
or planted with fodder corn. In this
connection a Vermout correspondent of
The New England Homestead writes:
Instead of planting the land to corn • -•,:
this year and seeding to grass, along
with a grain crop next spring, it might
be better to try the following plan,
which is being successfully followed in
many cases. Plant to fodder corn in the
usual way and just before the last cul-
tivation sow on the grass seed. Of course
the land should be properly fertilized
either with manure or phosphate and
level cultivation practiced. All of this
work .can be very well done with the
implement known as the weeder. By
using this thoroughly the soil can be
made clean and mellow. Sow the grass
seed previous to using this implement
the last time.
When harvesting the corn crop, take
care to cut as low as possible, so that
the stubble will not be in the way of
the mowing machine.
Some may think that seeding in this
way would not be successful, but expe-
rience proves that it is. A neighbor
last year seeded five acres in this man-
ner with good results. I have seen fields
where a portion was seeded to grass
with fodder corn the year before and the
remainder with oats. The partwith the
corn is almost always decidedly ahead
of the other, as it does not winter kill.
Where the oats were sown the seeding
is poor and uneven. Why there should
be snob a difference it might be diffi-
cult to determine, but such aro the facts
in the ease.
Another advantage in following this
plan wherever desirable is that the corn
cropproperly oared for will be better
and leave the land in a desirable condi-
tion for a satisfactory .crop of hay. I
have plowed 2g acres, successfully
seeded last year, but badly winter
killed, and will try the plan outlined
here.
Floodgate For Ditch.
Farm, Field and Fireside originally
illustrated the floodgate for farm ditch-
es sent in by a Wyandotte county (O.)
farmer, and here presented. Following
are directions for making it:
Take a piece of timber (X) 4 by 4
inches. Make mortises through the 4 by
FLOODGATE FOR FARJI DITCIiES.
4 an inch wide and as long as the width
of the slats you wish to use. Have
your slats about three feet long. Put
weight (W) enough below the beam to
keep the slats perpendicular. Make
frame of two posts and sills with cross
sill, having the posts well braced. Bore
holes in posts to receive the rounded
ends of the flood gate beam.
When completed, sink the sill (S) in-
to the ground across the ditch on a lev-
el with the bottom of the ditch.
White Clover For Pasture.
It is one of the advantages of rough,
rocky land that, as it cannot often be
cultivated or ever very thoroughly, the
surface soil is pretty sure to be filled
with white clover seed. It is said to be
natural to such land, which means that
it has so long occupied the soil that
there is plenty of seed to grow when
ever it has a fair chance. It is an excel-
lent pasture grass, as its roots run near
the surface and quickly respond even to
light rains, which will not revive other
grasses. It is greatly helped by a dress-
ing of gypsum. On long cultivated
ground, especially where no clover has
been thickly seeded, there will be little
white clover visible, but even there it
is often ready when it gets the chance.
If the first clover crop is alsike, which
does not sprout after its first cutting, a
vigorous growth of aftermath clover
will often be found, though before the
alsike was but the white clover was to
small except for eyes that were sbarply��
looking for it to see it.—American Cul-
tivator.
Improved Grain Shock.
According to a writer in The Farm
Journal nine bundles of grain make a
better "shock" than the old fashioned
dozen. Get up four in a cross, then four
more, one in each of the spaces between
two of the first four, and cap with the
ninth, well broken, and the tops toward
the prevailing wind. If well set, that
is, eaoh sheaf standing on its own bot-
tom and thoroughly closed in at the
top, such a shook will stand a stiff wind-
storm and a three days' rain without
harm.'
In the Apiary.
Putting on supers sometimes puzzles
beginners. Farm Journal says: As a
general rule, whenever boss multiply
so that they crowd each other he the
hive or begin to lie out at the entrance,
supers should at once bo put on. This
gives them plenty of room at d keeps
them at work. They should never be
allowed to lounge ;on the outside for
lack of space to deposit honey.
Cutting the queen's wings will save
many a swarm from going to the forest.,
Developing Plants With Ether.
Considerable success' has attended the.
treatment of plants with ether. Plants
thus treated have been forced to do
more work than normal. Conoltsioes
are as yet not very definite. It 'seems
probable that the increased energy in-
duced by the vapor of •chloroform will
be followed in time by, collapse and
death.
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