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The Exeter Advocate, 1898-10-28, Page 6HE Ring ry e grg ec° ,611.31157 teeeesli aea. Y JVLE..5 CLAREtlE1 of.),Kic.,..r• 1597 BY .?*q... a • F FENNO&C Bis report to the chief, M. Morel, wax soon made, Ile listened to him with attention, for he had absolute eonddence in the police officer. "Never any gaff with Beraardet," M. Morel was wont to say. lie, 1ie Bernardet, Well felt convinced tht this mau was probabl,y the murderer of the ex -consul. "As to the 1110IiV0 which led to the came, we shall know it later." Ile wished, above everything else, to bane strict iuquiries made into Dantin's past life anti hi regard to his present ex- istence, and the inquiries would be comt pared with his answers to the questions which M. Ginory would, ask' him when he had been cited as a witness. "GO at owe to 31. Gineey'a rem, Bret." said the Otte/. "During his time I would learn a little about WE kiuti ef alan this is. Beerier ter bad veiny to Cr:^,$ -S E17413 ear- thier and meant a few steps al reaelt the etatlery mem militia 31. tlineryhe nom openea. White waiting' to ne ad - =Wed he passed up :tad dome. Seated beuebes were a number of znalefata /pre, eome ot whom nra.w him well, who were waiting exambeatiou. Hewes accustomed to see this eight daily, and without bt hag moved, but this time be was overeocae by a fort of agony, a spasm whiele centraeted even his nagere and left 1133 Limes in as quiveriug state as does 111.9.0111111a. Truly in the present case he was mueltmoreconcern- ed than in an ordinary rean huut. The officer experienced the fear witich au inveutcr feels before the perfectien of a new clinoveree He bad uudertaken a Ilormidable problem, apparently iueolu- ble, and he desired to Rive it. 011CP Pr twice be tee% out from the peclam bis redingate an old NiWil ease and Icelted at the preefe of the retina, whieli be had att1 CliaC4f4. Them could be ao &AIM This ilgare, a little costa:ad, bad the very kelt of the niau who bad teat aver the grave. AL Gineree would be FZ:UviZ t it when lie bad Jacques, Dasetin beiove him, provided the exam- Init.% magistrate still bad the desire wleieh Dernartlee bad imited in tabu to uele the matter w the end. Inrtunately Ciliary was yery various, With this curiosity anything might happen. The time Feerned loug. What if this Dentin, Who epelte et leaving Paris, izbould appear, hold escare the examination? "What miserable little affair occupied M. Gincry? Would he ever be at liber - ay? The door opened, a man in a blouse was led out, the registrar appeared on the tbreebald, and. Bernartlet reeked if be could not Eee 31. Giuory immediate- ly, as he bad an important communica- tion to make to Wm. "I will not detain him long," he mid, Far irom appearing annoyed, the magistrate Seemed delighted to see the =efficer. He rtnlated to Mut all he knew— how be Lad seen the man at 31. Ro- veres funeral; that Nine. Moniche had **cognized Lim as the one whom she had surprised stamling with M, Rovere before the open safe; that he had sign- ed Lis mune and taken first rank in the funeral cortege, less by reason of 1111 old frientiehip wbicb dated from childhood than by that strange and impulsive sen- timent which compels the guilty man to haunt the scene of his crime, to re- main near his viotira, as if the murder, the blood, the corpse, held for him a morbid fascination. "I shall soon ltaaow," said M. Ginory. He dictated to the registrar a citation to appear before him, rang the bell and gave the order to serve the notice on M. Dentin at the given address and to bring bim to the palais. "Do not lose sight of him," he said to Bernardet and began some other ex- aminations. Bernardet bowed and his eyes shone like those of a sleuthhound on the scent of his prey. mastering the motion, and nis face and warmer showed no trace of it. • In the open door M. Jacques Dentin appeared 'St a first view, for the magis- trate, was fa orable. The man was tall, well built; lie bowed wiela grace, and looked straight before him. But at the Knee time 31. Ginory was struck by then tannage resemblauce of this haughty face to that image obtained by means of liernartiet's kotialt. It seemed to Jahn lett this image bad the nulls stature, the same form as tbat man surrounded by the hazy clouds. 'Upon a emend ea- aruination it seemed to the magistrate that the face betrayed a restrained vim tette% a ateat brutality. The eyesevere stern, =der their bristling brows, the pointed neard, quite thin on the cheeks, showed the beavy jawa and under the gray mustache the uuder lip protruded like the lips of certain Spanish cavaliers painted by Velasquez. "Prognathous," thought M. Ginory, as be 1:10f/(111 this charaeteristic. With a geeture be motioned M. Banda to a cbair. The roan was there before the 3udge, who, with crossed hands, bis el bows leaning on his papers, nettled ready to talk of insiguiticant things. while the registraestald bead was teat over his bleck table as he raptdly took ewe The iuterview took ou a grave tene. but as between two men who, meeting ia a salon, speak of the morn- tmen er of the premiere of the evening bettne. and M. ...Theory asked 31. Dandle for Kane informazion b ear d to M. Revere. "Did you know him Ultimately?" "Yes, M. le Juge." "For how many years?" "For mere than 40, We were cern- rades at a selacol in Bordeaux," "You are a Bordelais?" "Like Rovere, yes." Dentin replied. "Of late have yon Ran 31. Rovere frequently?'' "I beg your pardon, 31, le Juge, but svbat do you mean by of late?" X. Gluonbelieved that he had dis- covered. in this question put by a man who was himself being iaterrogated— a tactic—a means ofBeare*be,fore re. plying tinie for reflection. He was ac- customed to these InalleaVerd at the ace eueeti. " When 1 Fay of late," he replied, "1 man duriug the past few weeks ear days which preceded the murder—if that suits yen." "I saw him often—in fact, even of - tester than ferneerly." "Why?" Jacques Dentin seemed to hesitate. "I do not hnow—chance. In Paris one CHAPTER X. Between the examining magistrate who questioned and the man cited to appear before him .who replied it was a duel, a close game, rapid and tragic, in which each feint might make a mor- tal -wound, in which each parry and thrust might be decisive. No one in the world has the power of the man who, in a word, can change to a prisoner the -one who enters the petals as a passerby. Behind this inquisitor of the law the prison stands, the tribunal in its red tobes appears, the beams of the scaffold oast their sinister shadows, and the magistrate's cold chamber already seems to have the lugubrious humidity of the dungeons where the condemned await their fate. • Jacques Dentin arrived at the palais in answer to the magistrate's citation with the apparent alacrity of a man who, regretting a friend tragically put cut of the world, wishes to aid in aveng- ing him. He did not hesitate a second, and Bernaselet, who saw him enter the carriage, was struck with the seeming eagerness and haste with which he re- •sponded to the magistrate's order. When M. Ginory was informed that •elacques Dentin had arrived, he allowed • an involuntary "Ah 1" to escape him. •This "Alt!" seemed to express the satis- faction of an impatient spectator when • the signal is given which announces that the curtain le about to be raised, For the examining magistrate the drama in which he was about to unravel the mys- • tery was to begin. He kept his eyes fixed upon the door, attributing, cor- •rectly, a great importance to the first impression the comer would make upon him as he entered the room. M. Ginory found that he was much excited. This was to him a novel thing, but by exer- • cising his strong will he succeeded ha The sanguine face of the magistrate, that robust visage, with its 'massive jaws, lighted up with a sort of ironical expression. "Then we are here to searoh for the truth and to find it" In this response, made in a mocking tone, the registrar, who knew every varying shade of tone in his ohiefis YO/00, raised bis head, for in this tone he detected a menace, "Will you tell me all that Passed in that lest interview?" "Notbiug whateyer which Could in any way put justice on the tea,* at the criminal." ".at yet cast you, or rather I should say ought you, not to relate to me all that was said or clone? The slightest ciremustence might enlighteu us." "Rovere spoke to me of private af- fairs," Dentin replied, but quickly at.. ed, "They were insiguiReant things." "What are ineignificant things?" "Retneuxbrauces—family matters." "Family thinge are not insignificant, above all in a cake like this, Had Bo- vem any fetidly? No relative assisted at the bit:t: UleS." jacquis leuntiu seemed troubled, uu- nerved rather, and this time it WS plainte viefele. Ito replied in a short twee, whitat was almost brusque: "He telhed of the past." "What past?" asked the judge quit*. "Of hie yeatb—of moral debts." 31. Giuory turned around in his ehair, leaned baek and said, in a caustic tone: enteasimar, you certaiuly qualm to complete your information aud nut make an euigma of your •depositiou. I do not understaud this useless reticence and moral debts, to use your words. They are ouly to gain time. Whet, then, was 31. Rovere's past?" Dentin besittited a moment—not very leng, Then he tranly said, "Tbat, 31, le Juge, is a secret waned to me by my friend, and as it has nothing to do with this rctatter 1 ask you to refrain from questiouing me about it," "I beg your pardou," the magistrate replied. 44There isnot, there culla be, a secret for an examining magistrate, In Rovere's interests, whose memory ought to have public vindication—yes, en his later:este, and I ought to say ale° in your own—it is necessary that yen should state explicitly what you have just alluded to. You tell Ina that thew is a stover. I wish to know it, "It is the coufideuce of a dead person, monsieur," Dentin replied iu vibrating tones. "There are no confidences when jus - tine is in the balance." "But it is also the secret of a living person," said Jacques Dentin. "Lit yourself of whom you speak?" He gazed keenly at the face, now tor- tured and contracted. Dentin replied, "No, I do not spea.k of rnyeelf, but of another." "That other—who is he?" "It is impossible to tell you." "Impossible?" "Absolutely impossible." "I will repeat to you my first ques- tion—wby?" "Because I have sworn on my honor to reveal it to no one." "Ah, alai" said Ginory mockingly, "It was a vow? That is perfect." "Yes, 111, le Juge; it was a vow." "A vow made to whom?" "To Revere." "Who is no longer here to release you from it. I 'understand." "And" asked Dentin, with a vehe- mence which inade the xegistrar's thin hand tremble as it flew over the paper, "what do you understand?" "Pardon," said 3/. Ginory. "Yoe are not here to nut questions, but to an- swer those which are asked you. It is certain that a vow which binds the holder of a secret is a means of defense, but the accused have, by ,making com- mon use of it, rendered it useless." The magistrate noticed the almost menacing frown with which Dentin looked at him at the words "the ac- cused." "The accused?" said the man, turn- ing in his chair. "Ain I one of the ac- cused?" His voice was strident, almost strangled. "I do not know that," said 31. Gino- ry in a very calm tone. "I say that you wish to keep your secret, and it is a claim which I do not admit." "I repeat, M. le Juge, that the secret is not mine." "It is no longer a secret which can remain sacred here. A murder has been committed, a murderer is to be found, and everything you know you ought to reveal to justice." "But if I give you my word of honor that it bas not the slightest bearing on the matter—with the death of Rovere?" "I shall tell my registrar to write your very words in reply. He has done it. I shall continue to question you, precisely because you speak to me of a secret which has been confided to you and which you refuse to disclose to me. Because you do refuse?" "Absolutely." "In spite of what I have said to youl It is a warning. You know it well." "In spite of your warning." "Take care," M. Ginory softly said. His angry face bad lost its wonted ami- ability. The registrar quickly raised his head. He felt that a decisive mo- ment had came. The examining magis- trate looked direotly into Dantin's eyes and slowly said, "You remember that you were seen by the portress at the moment when Rovere, standing with you in front of his open safe, showed you some valuables?" Dentin waited a moraent before he replied, as if measuring these words and searching to find out just what 31. Ginory was driving at. This silence, short and momentous, was dramatic. The magistrate knew it well—that mo- ment of agony when the question seems like a cord, like a lasso suddenly thrown ant' tightening around one's neck. There was always in his exami- nation a tragic moment. "I remember very well that I saw e person whom I did not know enter the room where I was with 31. Rovere," Jacques Dentin replied at last. 3f. Ginory asked 3L Dantin, for some palmation in regard to X. eloverm has intimate friends; one does not see them for setae months, and. suddenly one sees them again and one meets them more frequently." "Have you ever bad any reason fax the interiniptioas in your reletions with M. Rovere wben you ceased to see him, as you say?" "None evbatever." "Was there between you any sort of rivalry, any motive for coldness?" "Any motive, any rivalry? What dc you mean?" "I do not know," said tbe great man; "I ask you. I am questioning you." The registrar's pen ran rapidly and noiselessly over the paper with the sped of a bird on the wing. These words, "lam questioning you, " seemed to make an unexpected, disa- greeable impression on Dantin, and he frowned. "When did you visit Revere the last time?" "The last time?" "Yes. Strive to remember." "Two or three days before the mur- der." "It was not two or three days; it was two days exactly before the assassina- tion." "You are right. I beg your pardon." The examining magistrate waited a moment, looking the man full in the face. It seemed to him that a slight flush passed over his hitherto pale face. "Do you suspect any one as the mur- derer of Revere?" asked 31. Ginory aft- er a moment's reflection. "No one, " said Dentin. "I have tried to think of some one." "Had Revere any enemies?" "I do not know of any." The magistrate swung around by a detour habitual with him to Jacques Dentin's last visit to the murdered man and begged him to be precise and asked him if anything had especially struck him during that last interview with his friend. "The idea of suicide having been im- mediately dropped on the simple exami- nation of the wound, no doubt exists as to the cause of death. Rovete was as- sassinated. By whom? In your last in- terview was there any talk 'between YOU of any uneasiness which he felt in regard to anything? Was he occupied with any especial affair? Had he—some- times one has presentiments—any pre- sentiment of an impending evil, that he was running any danger?" "No," Dan tin replied. "Rovere made no allusion to me of any peril which he feared. I have asked myself who could have any iaterest in his death. One might have done the deed for plunder." "That seems very probable to me," said the magistrate, "but the examina- tion made in the apartment proves that not a thing had been touched. Theft was not the motive." "Then?" asked Dentin. "A person weave you did not know? You knew Ser very well, since you had, more than once asked her if M. Rovere was at home. That `person itt Mme. Moniche, who has made be' deposition, "And what did she say in her deposi- time?" The magistrate took a paper front the table in front of hint and read:. "When I entered, 31. Rovere was standing be- fore his safe, and I noticed that the in- dividual of whom I spoke (the tudiviclu, al is you] cast upon the oonpous a look whieh made me cold. I thought to my- self, `This mare looks as if be is =Often hea einne bad deed.' (To an commune] THE TIMMER MARKET. It is a Unique Affair Debi at Aber. deem., Scotland, 04 the last Wednesday of August ev- ery year is a fair, called the "Timmer market," held iu the Castle square in Aberdeeta Scotlaud, Some 50 or 60 years ago nothing could be bought at it hut wooden articles, from wbich arose the aanee "Timmer." Now, bowever, it is the Scotch housewife's lust chance ef getting her berries for preserving. Ev- ery patrou of the market knows that after that month the only chance of fruit Ls gone; hence the rush. Great and smell, etch awl poor, alike turn out. Booths set to the best advantage and numbering perhaps 200 ere arranged in rows, ample room being left for the Mey- ers and pleasure seekers between. Fruit etal/s, old clothes dealers, shootine ranges, wheels of fortune—everything to make a penny—can be found there Schools and colleges bave no reeoguized boliday on Oita Weduesday, yet the average "need" is a regular attendant. ane and &mu he parades, blowing hit trumpet in the face of every one In meets aud looking the very picture 01 happiness, By 7 o'clock the "tarry rope" lampn. are lit and tbe fuu eommeaces. Country "Lnuanins" fetch their "lasses" mad buy them candy and pears or whatemn is eeiebed ion provided that the coet (loft ant exceed sixpeuce. The elite ol both sexes mix with the crowd gut] "treat," the oue tbeother. Mee ell is about sold out, the students start for home with a math, upsetting the stall: as they go. othing of course itt eniti by the police., it being "Timmer" day Suoulti any one be so absentiniuded to ferget the mouths and the dune there- of be has aso doubt wbatever from the bead splitting noise of the last Wedues- day in August. FEEDING A SKELETON. A. Hotel Ilion'e--;r7n.elenee With. e Preen Boarder. "Once in awhile I have some freak boarders," said a hotel manager. "One thmn I bad a living skelerma who came very near breaking me up in Lusineas He earn° here for a long stay, as lie was going to make the rounds of all the museums iu town. His manager came to rue and made arrangements for the skeletou to live at my hotel while he was in the city. I supposed that a liv- ing skeleton didn't live on 11111011 of anything but water, so I made him a raw away down—e3 a week, I believe— it was for board and room. The skele meal he had at tbe hotel was break- fast "Alter early one morning, so the firet "After he had finished his breakfast and gone to his MOM I went to the (lilt- ing room aud asked the waiter what the skeleton had eaten. I nearly fell dead when the waiter told me that the now boarder had cousmned three maps of cof- fee, two orders of beefsteak, four fried eggs, two big baked potatoes, half a loaf of bread and a plate of buckwheat cakes. What do you think of that? Tbat was certainly the worst surprise party I ever experienced. But there was no way out of it. I had made the rates tend I could not 'fire' the skeleton out. He staid with me nearly six weeks, and he came close to eating me out of house and home. "—Exchange. Long Service. A description of the old New England Sabbath is calculated to make restless children of the present day and possibly some of their elders thankful they were not born two centuries ago. The Sabbath began Saturday after- noon with the going down of the sun. Sunday morning a horn was loudly blown to announce the hour of worship. Service began at 9 o'clock and lasted for eight hours, with an intermission of one hour for dinner and conversation. In the earliest days the congregation sat on rude benches, their seats being as- signed them at town meeting. Tho service consisted of several parts, which are ohronicled in an ancient diary as follows: "Preliminary prayer or invocation; chapter of Bible read and expounded; psalm in meter, read out line by line by Deacon S.; long prayer on various matters, one hour and a half; sermon of 100 to 250 pages; at close of service, baptism; sinners put on trial, confessed before congregation. Minister C. bowed right and left, no person stirring till he had passed down and out of the meet- ing house. "—Youth's Companion. Origin of the Days of the Week. Sunday, the day devoted to the wor- ship of the sun by our forefathers. Mon- day, the day devoted to the worship of the moon by our forefathers. Tuesday, the day devoted to the worship of Tieu or Tyw, the god of war. Wednesday, the day devoted to the worship of Woden or Odin, the god of wind. Thursday, the day devoted to the wor- slahp of Thor, the god of thunder. Fri- day, the day devoted to the worship oi Freya or Friga, the Venus of the north. Saturday, the day devoted to the wor- ship of Saturn, the god of agriculture, or Satyr, the god of the forest. Elephants on Indian railways pay al the rate of 6 cents te mile. The baggage cars have compartments fax dogs, cats, guinea pigs, rabbits and monkeys. BETTER COWS, The Best Way to Get Them Is te Breed "Tbe pain in the pocket," which tomes frone low prices of dairy products te a good thing, saysHoard's Dairysnau, tf„ it will make some of these easy, in- different, withinking cowkeepers wake up, Such men are mentally lazy, and it takes a rigbtsbarp twinge of that pocket paht to make them thiuk or act 'upon tbeir thinking. But the question at the head af this article is constant/et stating them in the face. They must almost rob their family of every comfort, if they tete t* % 4"f ("441 al I. q,AWeet-4 .e*.e COLORADO BRED JERSEY LADYWASIUNOToN. come out even with the cows they now have. What show is there foe a man trying to make matey with cows that Will not yield over 150 pounds of but- ter a year, and that butter worth only 10 cents a pound, after the cost of mak- lag is taken out at the creamery? If be makes up his own butter, he is no bet- ter off, for be loses in price what he saves in cost of making. Thousands of farmers are looking this question in the face, "How shall we get better cows?" There is j/ast oae way, and only one Way we MU answer this question with success and profit to ourselves, We must breed them. And to breed better cows we must breed from dairy blood. 'We cannot hope to make better cows by breeding from beef blood or "general purpose' blood or scrub blood. There are 40 better milk returns in bulls of tbatsort. If we want Sega to any place, we must face that way. The sooner these cowkeepers, with poor, unprofitable cows face toward a registered bull of some one of the four dairy breeds, the quicker will this "pain in the pocket" subside. .As it is, tbey are wasting the yeare of life as they go by in a, vain endeavor to gee something oue a nothing, trying to get good cows by breeding to serub bulls. No man on earth ever saw im- provement come in this way. There are many dairy people wbo are breeding better cows, conspi mums among whom is Mrs, M. S. Lockwood of Long- mont, Colo. One of her favorite animals is Lady Washington, a Colorado Jersey, now 6 years old, and it is claimed by the Denver Field and Farm that she made 21 pounds of butter in seven days when in her 2 -year-old form. She has the necessary machinery for working up largo quantities of feed—a strong jaw and a big barrel—and her general out- line shows that she will probably turn what remains after satisfying the de- mands for maintenance into milk rather than meat or body fat. Evidently she has not a beef temperament, neither does sho come up to Professor Shaw's standard for a dual purpose cow. She leas the upourving flank, the thin in- curving thigh and the rising pelvic arch. There are prominent milk veins aud a well formed but not large udder. How Is 1111k Secreted? The manner in which milk is secreted in the udder is not yet definitely agreed upon. There are two theories put forth in explanation of the process. The first one, known as the "transudation theo- ry," assumes a simple filtering of the constituents of the milk from the blood through the gland and an immediate conversion of these constituents into milk. The second theory, known as the "metamorphic," assumes that the milk is formed in the gland by the decompo- sition of the cells of that organ. Professor Sheldon thinks that a com- bination of the two will probably give the most satisfactory explanation, and this is more apparent when we consider the sources of the various constituents of milk. Neither casein nor milk sugar is found in the blood; consequently they could not be filtered from it, but are probably the result of a special cell activity. Fat, though found in the blood, is not there in sufficient quantity to supply the fat of the milk. "The milk sugar, casein and fats are all formed by the direct activity of the epithelial cells as a result of the decom- position of their protoplasmic (first formed) contents or their action on the lookoonstituents in the blood. The oth- er constituents of the milk, the water and salts, evidently result from a direct process of transudation from the blood, with the exception that without doubt a certain percentage of the potassium salts and phosphates, like the specific nailk constituents, originate in the met- amorphosis (change) of the protoplasm (first matter) of the secretory cells. "— Farmers' Gazette (Ireland). Brewery Refuse Poor Food. Some French physicians have been making inquiry into the influence upon children's health of milk obtained from cows which have been fed on brewers' grains. Deaths from digestive troubles were noted to have become more fre- quent among infants in a particular lo- cality after the establishment of a large distillery. It is concluded that milk from cows fed on brewers' refuse is of highly acid character and is apt to produce indigestion in infants who are fed upon it. This appears to be a hint which should not be lost eight of by physicians, mothers and dairymen alike. —England Dairy. CHEESEMAKING.• Modern Methods an Improvement Over Former Ways. Only a few years ago obeesemakers were not cheesemakers from December to April, As regarded the cheese busi- ness, they folded their hands or em- barked in some other pursuit as soon as the faotory closed to mechauically take it up agaiu at the opening of the new season. I mean by this that there was no material advance in cheesemalting, at least not such an advance as we have We had some strong thinkers and in- vestigators then in the cheese field, but She great army of makers, the men who were doing the real practical work from day to day, were uot as well informed or qualified as the makers of 1896. The strong point about modern cheese- makers is that they themselves are thinkers and investigators. They possess more advautages than their older broth- ers bad, and they are wisely making the most of them, I think it would be hard to find a stinking rennet jar iu a factory um or auuottoot crude aud un- certain quality. When commercial rennet took the place a the homemade variety, it 111- augurated a greater advance in cheese manufacture than is generally thought,. ,A, certaiu per coat of old time cheese- makers knew how to prepare and hunt tile oracle rennet preparations mese judie clously. They entitle fine cheeee from it, Auer periums than is toned on too many factory shelves now. Still, except in the most careful tend experienced bawls, it was difficult to get uniformity of cheese quality. I have made (glees° in both renuet eras and kuow whereof I open. Of course a great deal of bad er imperfect (them is made with rennet extraet pro- vided the brand used is unreliable. When I prepared this fluid myself, as used to be the common oustona, I found that eternal vigilnnee over the care of the reneet jar was the price of good cheese quality. In visiting other faetories whore trouble wasexperienced in manufacture 1 SOOA loathed the ire, portance of examining the remelt used. Conviuced that this was all right, one could that turn in other direotions for sources of difliculty. A soluble, high grade salt is of far greater importance in cheesernaking tbau is usually imagined, There have been greater advances iu other lines of cheese manufacturo than in the adop- tion of a uniform soluble salt In tbe butter making field they appreciate this matter as it should, be and creameries are most careful in the selection of the salt they use. In a barrel of hard, °bona, insoluble salt I have frequently found O cause for bad cheese. Thee intelligence of modern cheesemaking should re- nounce poor salt as it has the old rennet jar, and the season of 1898 is the best time I know of lu which to do it—Seo- retary E. Newell in American Culti- vator. Conunon Cows in the Dairy. There is not much lack in this coun- try of advanced dairy teaching of the highese kind, but there is a notable ab- sence of the intermediate instruction of the kind necessary to advance, by regu- Jar steps, the dairy methods in vogue on western farms. As a very large por- tion of the butter made in the country is still made on the farms, such instruc- tion as would raise the quality of farm butter 2 or 3 cents per pound would be of vastly more importance than an inn provement in the methods that would raise tho price of creamery butter to the same extent. We have already had cm - (lesion to note that the Kansas Agricul- tural college is devoting a chief share of its attention along dairy lines of in- struction of the kind calculated to im- prove farm dairy methods. Among other things the college has secured a herd of good average Kansas cows. There is no pretense that they are the best cows. They weigh from 1,000 to 1,100 pounds and do not have the dairy form to any notable extent. The effort will be made to see not whether dairy cows will pay in Kansas, but whether average cows, such as are common in the country, will pay. The results obtained from them will also be contrasted with the results given by herds selected for dairy excel- lence. The student will be taught the difference in remunerativeness between the carefully managed herds of dairy cows and similarly managed herds of common cows, thus furnishing an ob- ject lesson with regard to the relative profitableness of the average cows and the good ones.—Homestead. New Dees For Skimmilk. The past year several new methods have been proposed. for the utilization of skimmilk. These proposed methods are mostly in the line of drinks fax neramer use. The most promising thus far that we have seen is that known as champagnized. milk. The following is She Process used: "The milk is first skimmed to prevent the formation of clots during the process. It is then evveetened and flavored and placed in a Dlosed vessel. A current of oxygen gate passing through tbe vessel sterilizes the milk, which is champagaized by the introduction of the necessary amount of carbonic acid gas. The drink thus pro- duced is spoken of as extremely refresh- ing and of exquisite flavor." Such proc- esses as the above are very promising. There ought to be a large demand for such a beverage. The summer drinks we now have are almost universally sweet, highly flavored compounds wbich ere -much more likely to increase thirst than to prevent it, and they certainly lo not appeal to the average thirsty Dean. We have no doubt that a glass of 31ean, cool, carbonated milk, without sugar Or flavoring, would be most tic- mptable to a large class of men, who aave no choice at present between soda water and beer and eeject both. It is tbout time that this class of consumers De catered to, and we are confident that ;he man who supplies them a drialr like she above will reap a rich reward.— Hoard's Dairyman.