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HomeMy WebLinkAboutExeter Advocate, 1899-2-2, Page 6GALLOWAYS FOR BEEF. Valuta Scored by This Rugged Breed of Cattle. ih speaking of Gallowatys, .Frank B, Hearne of Missouri, says: This hardy breed of beef cattle is doing well in. America. They have not had the boom that has distinguisbed the pale faced Herefords, nor yet the widespread trim that has been given the popular Short Thorns, They have had nothing to excel tate smooth iluu,hed, shorn specimens of -their black cousins, the Aberdeen An- tos, who have a well deserved reputa- tion, rbtit they have made good, substan- tial profits for those handling them, and -they -are becoming yearly more pop - solar "both'on-eastern farms and western GALLOWAY EVIL. rencbes. They have fair accords for butter in dairy districts, and have at the eenntbles paid their purchasers bet. ler than any other breeds. Where they F,iave been tried eu western ranches they have dont splt udidly. Hardy and active, they roau2 far and wide for food and water, and if these be scarce will feed on intuits deepieed by other pure breeds. Proline and gond mothers, they raise a /urge percentage of ealves and herd to- gether morn clri;ely than any other breed. On the farm in the east they have made good progress and have paid their owners geed profits. At the fall fairs in paint of numbers, in the show- ing and in excellence of exhibit they usually stand second only to the popu- lar .n.'horthorus. In the feed lot they are Already deborued, and can be herded to. gether like eberp, and for forced feed• fag in loose boxes they are found to be specially well. suited. T4ie quality of Galloway beef is a feature that the breeders have never brought to the front, as they should haze done. They put the very best mar- bled:beef on the most valuable parts. Quality is becoming a point more and tnoretnoticed and valued. Recently at the•Cbrii,trnas show of the Smithfield club of London the directors made a new departure and offered prizes for the best and Wrest valuable carcass of beef. In the ring, judging for the Sweepstakes--, the Galloway entries alive were hardly looked at. The crossbred Shorthorn Galloway bine gray steer ran neok and neck for first place, but the real Galloways hardly got the second glance from the judges. The same ani- mals when killed and hung up cap- tured four out of five prizes offered. Galloway beef is of the best quality. They are not as smooth as the Aberdeen Angus, not as massive as the Shorthorn, but they kill better than either, and on the table are second to none. Careful experiments made at different agricultural colleges have shown that the Galloway makes beef at a low cost. On ordinary farms and in carefully 'watched feed lots tbe same thing bas been shown. This is the most important point in the battle of the breeds. We claim the best beef at the lowest Dost for the Galloway. The breed that can make the best beef for the ]east feed is the one for the farmer. Some time ago at the Guelp Agricultural college a series of experiments was made as be- tween the different breeds to determine oast of production. The animals were taken soon after birth and were fed lib- erally—forced, in fact, as well as a good feeder could do. There were grade steers tried of several breeds, and tbe food each oonsutned was carefully noted. In gain per day the Hereford came first, Short- horn second and Holstein third. In this the Galloway stood fifth. In value when ready for the block the Hereford, Gal- loway and Shorthorn were valued •at same rate per pound rive weight, all the others at a lower rate. Taking or - GALLOWAY COW. Binary market values of all the food tised, the selling value of the animal, the Holstein grade.showed a loss of $8.22, the -Shorthorn a loss of 21 cents, the Hereford a gain of $1.40 and the Gal- .loway a blear profit of $15.15. Similar experiments made at other stations have shown the Galloways to be in the front rank of cheap beef production. Such experiments require care and are too ex- pensive for the ordinary farmer, but we. !should profit by the results, and from actual tests tbe Galloway claims to Make the best beef et the lowest cost. Testae Cattle. Teras cattle are no longer the keg horned, long legged beasts of former years: They have been so improved by crossing with the pure blood Hereford, Shorthorn and •Galloway bulls tbat they now come into market as good grades and thonsands of them are bought for expert, Grass the year round and cot - tanned seed meal to finish off these high i6kailes make Texas a popular live Stock M .---Live Stook. t�YtttI'4 t;HICKENS. l'omitry glen Mttxt Keep Vie 'With Mod- ern Methods of Laving. Our ntorlern tuethods of living are changing our farming in many particu- lars, says James S. Smith in the .Boston Cultivator, Tba demand is now for early spring lamb, and chickens in i'eb- raary and March. Fine, tender broilers at tbi season are naturally bigh priced, and it is ibis which induces poultry raisers to prepare the feast for those who can afford to pay for it. Early spring chickens havo to be raised in the winter season, and to do this requires a certain expert knowledge that is the price of success. Spriug chickens at 50 cents a pound Are profitable, and even at much less than this one can find money in the business. Besides, it gives the poultry grower work to do at what is generally considered a lazy season of the year, In fact, there is more money today in rais- ing spring chickens and winter eggs than in any other branch of this busi- ness, Those who stiok to the beaten tracks are the ones who never make a great deal out of their enterprise. But every one will not succeed in raising spring chickens, and it is well that this. is so, for otherwise the business would soon be overdone. It takes shrewd busi- ness tact, exact knowledge and careful application of that knowledge to make the work profitable. In the first place, ana must have a warm house suitable for the chickens. It does not take a large one to accom- modate 100 chickens, but it must be warm, well ventilated and even in tem- perature. This is the first requisite,. The house should be located so that it will receive the sun through the glass most of the day. The sitters must be selected for their emcees in hatching eggs, and those that show an inclination to neglect the eggs should be discarded. The sitters must be fed separately when off the nest so they will not be bothered and worried by the others. The sitting house sbould be darker than the grain room, and the nests should be arranged in rows. Each ben will learn to know her own nest. Wa- ter as well as food must be provided the hens daily. When the chicks are hatch- ed, they must be kept together in email colonies free from cold winds and storms. They must be kept growing all the time, and good food, water and clean surroundings win accomplish this. Varna inush, bread, oatmeal and scrape from the table should be their chief daily diet. New batohings should be made all of the time, so that younger chicks will take the place of those sent to market. Egg Candling. Egg candling is a very profitable busi- ness if the judgment of the operator can be relied upon by the dealer employing him. Mistakes are galling because no- where does good faith play such an im- portant part as with egg dealers. At the best the examination with the naked eye is difficult and doubtful, and there - TESTER FOR EGGS. fore a new little apparatus patented in Germany quite recently will be very welcome. It consists of a tube for the inspection, with springs to hold the egg at one end and a lens at the other. Looking through the lens, the good egg will appear quite clear, the bad ones are darker, and black ones are altogether unfit for ase.—Philadelphia Record. Feed and Care. It is an easy matter for a comparative novice in poultry keeping to become die - satisfied with the breed of poultry on hand, no matter bow good tbe fowl may be. If, after a winter of heavy grain feeding and careless attention, it is ]earned that a neighbor has }rad twice the number of eggs from a flock the same size that received a Iess costly ra- tion, the tendency is to blame the breed and get the next season's sittings from the neighbor. The trouble may be the breed, but it is more likely to result from improper feeding or bad manage- ment. It is not an easy matter to make a judicious selection at the start, and time should be taken in doing it. There are breeds for various purposes, and one should decide what is desired of the fowl before stocking up, and after hav- ing selected a breed it is poor policy to change to some other without giving the first a fair trial. Changing from one breed to another or adding breed after breed to the one originally selected is sure to result in general dissatisfaction and prove eventually a losing invest- ment.—Maine Farmer. Feed Fowls Slowly. One of the difficulties in winter feed- ing is that grain is given in a mass, perhaps because the feeder does not Dare to stand around in the cold, while the fowls are equally in a'hurry to fill them- aelves, so that they may again go on the roost and cover their chilled feet with their feathers. No matter how cold the weather may be, fowls on the roost al- ways contrive to keep their feet warm if they get food enough to furnish the internal heat. The natural way for a fowl to take its' food is a morsel or a grain at atime and to get that by scratching for it, This will prevent the food from going in a mass into the crop, and the exercise will keep the fowl's feet warm even in the coldest weather. This is much better than, allowing the fowl to fill itself to repletion and then remain without exercise for hours upon its roost. -Boston thi l trvator. Duff Geese Booming. It is conceded'b observing 3' g men that the buff varieties of geese generally are enjoying a boom, there tieing a remarkable quickening of inter- *. t in them all along the line. BETIVITO TV LOVES. BY BERTHA B. OLA,T. (Continued,) "I cannot break a promise," the said. coldly, although ]Iiswords had touched her. "Is it easier to break a heart than a promise?" he asked, bitterly. "Oh, May, my owu love, listen to me." CIten "'TER VL "IT seam. BE THE Tsai," "Listen to me," repeated. Sir Clinton; "remember I am only a moria) man, and a mon driven almost desperate by your coldness and cruelty. Iso you think it possible that I could endure to see any man, no matter whom he may be, holding your hand in his, saying sweet love -words to you, looking at you as though he loved you, even though it were in play? Do you think that I could bear it?'" "I think you are very toollsb," said Lady May. "How many of our actors and actresses are married; yet, it the` were to think and taut as you do, what would become of the profession?" "Other men please helnse1ves," re- plied her lover, "I know my own strength, and my own weakness. I am quite sure that I could not bear that," "It seems an absurd fuss about noth- ing , it is such a trifle. I wonder you can tall: seriously about it,'" said Lady May. "Trifles make the sum of humen things. It is no tritle to the," he .gild, "I know that it would he ueendurahle. Even for actresses of whom you speak. I have often felt in,lignaut; if you knew bow men criticised them, if you heard the remarks, tele jests," "But that is in a theatre; I abound be in a drawing -(room,," "Human nature is the same every- here," veryhere," he said, abruptly; "and if you condescend to perform before an audi- ence, you must expect to run the gaunt- let of criticism. May. surely I have some influence over you; surely my wishes, my desires are of some little account to you, I tell you that I care not endure any exhibition of this kind. Let others please themselves. I eoulel not bear that the woman I love sbould take any part in plays or tableaux. You may think -that I am unreasonable; I� Cannot help it." Site did not reply for some minutes, and Sir Clint= continued; "What is the first impulse of any man who loves anything very dearly— is it not a wild, nameless longing to take it away from every one where he can lavish his love on it?" "Itis unfortunate that I have given my promise," said Lady May, "as your dislike to the idea is so great; but hav- ing given it, I cannot recall it.' "You will not go!" he said, "I am sure of it, as though you bad pledged yourself not to gu. I am sure of it." "Why?" she asked, briefly. "Because I have faith in you. You would not, I am quite, sure, deliberately do anything that yon knew would grieve me. I have faith in you. Even if I saw you dressed, and was told that you were going to Lady Swandown's, I should not believe it. I have faith in you, my love." She tried to laugh as she answered him, but his trust in her had touched her deeply. "I must go," sho said, "not only to keep my promise, but also to vindicate my independence. I am told that peo- ple have evert laid waigers as to whe- ther I should go or not—people who know you, and knoo- you objection. You could not expect me to stay away after that. It would be said that I was afraid of you." "That motive is altogether unworthy of you, and will no,; influence you, I am sure," said Sir Clinton. "Look at it in this light, Lady May—will you not give me the great pleasure and triumph of letting the world see you respect my wishes and prejudices?" "I will not be coerced," she seed, quickly. "I will do as I like." "You shall. I will not go through the farce of laying my commands upon you; I Ieave my cause in your hands; I am confident that, against my wish, you will not go;I have faith in you." "Let us forget the matter. It Is a fortnight to -morrow that the affair comes off; we need not be miserable to -day. Yet, Clinton, you must not make any mistake; I shall go this time, even if I never go again. I will not have it said with a sneer that my ob- edience has begun before marriage, and people would say that, I am sure." "I repeat that I have faith in you, May, You will not hold me up to pub- lic scorn; you will not do that which yen know I dislike and detest." So it ended, neither of them feeling quite satisfied, both hopingthat some- thing or other would Happen to make everything safe. Sir Clinton knew he might as well try to teach the wind which way to blow• as to try to force or compel his beautiful fiancee; she, on her side, could not brook the idea of giving in and staying away, neither did she wish to vex or annoy Sir Clinton. She would even have been pleased if, without any compromise of her own dignity, she could have yielded to his wishes. That was the first scene—the beginning of the "little strife" that was to make all music mute—the first notes of the tragedy. The secoaid took place some days afterward. Lady May was tired—there had been a garden -party, and she had been the belle. She had laughed, talked, enter- tained a whole court of admirers. She had looked fair as a flower, bright as a sunbeam. She had been courted, cares- sed, . feted. The day had been 'warm and sunny. She was tired. She was half anxious, for the conversation turn- ed so often on the coming theatricals. How many people had said to her: "I hear you are to be Pauline, Lady May; I am going purposely to see you." The world expected it of her. She must, go. More than once she fancied she detected beneath the veil of flattery a laughing sarcasm -a light, jesting mention of Sir Clinton's peculiar opinions. Ile was not there; a previous engagement had prevented his going, and her heart warmed to him. Flow different he was, she said to hers,lf, to the ordinary run of men; how murk more royal in his bearing, more noble in his aapect—more noble, she averred, frons 'tritevery structure of his views, and the great deference be paid to the purity, the delicacy of women. Her heart warmed to hila. She began to appreciate the mighty, noble love that had been lavished on her. She was anxious, too, because the young Duke of Ilosecarz, with delight and exultation in every feature in his face, had par - sued her with his expressions of de- light, "1 think I shall play Claude to your Pauline," he said. '"If fortune had: tried her best, she could have done nothing so kind to me." Lady May began to think it would not be so pleasant, after all, to phty at mimic love with the young. dulte. Then she wished Lady Swandowu had never been bitten with this theatrical mania. One tittle circumstance had mo- neyed oncyed her. She was tailing to Colonel Parttnere about the ur,7nd ncmina: event, when Lady Marcel joined them, and said, in a peculiar tone: "Do not be too sure, colonel, that you will see Lady May as Pauline, after all. A little bird has whispered soniP strange things to me." "What did the little bird say?" asked Lady May, with n flush on her face. "I must not tell; but I, for one, do not anticipate the pleasure of seeing you as Paulinead." 'flees Ly Ding thought to herself that people were talking abotkt her lover's dislike to the whole affair, and. speculating whether she would give in to him or not, She had been invited to a formal dine ger party, but, feeling tired and ani xfous, sire sent an apology. For once beautiful, flattered Lady May felt an. equal to meeting the great world. She went out into the pretty parterre, th.tt in London goes by the name of garden. There was a trailing cedar, a smooth, green rose trees r ees and mig,rtaxrtte. The golden sunbeams lingered ever Hem; the south wind idly stirred the loves; the sweet, shining heavens had no clouds; the birds were singing in the trees -it was so different this sweet, hely calm of nature, from the tumult and turmoil or the world. There, under the shade of the trees, fastening to the sweet, jubilant music of the birds, ]ter heart warmed again to ber lover, and the thought of the theatricals became almost distasteful to her. She was tensed from her reverie by the fioulld of his voice, anti sale knew that be was by her ride. One gleam in Ins face showed her also that he was unusually agitated. "May, my darling," he said, "I have heard it! I' tens struck dumb! Then I said to myself that I would come and ask you how such a story lied arisen?" She looked at bin) long and earnestly before ache spoke. There were strange Mlles in that deer face—lines of pain— and the girl's heart reproached her; she had brought them there. "What story is it. Clinton?" she ask- ed, with a sure foreboding of what was coming, "They tell me that not only are you going to these theatricals, but that the Duke of Hese-earn. who is my rival— who has, a score of times, publicly avowed has determination to win you from me if he can—the man above all other men, of whom I am jealous—they tell me that lie plays the part of your lover on the stage. Is it so, May?" "1 cannot help it," she replied, the more impatiently because she felt that her cause was a bad one. "You can- not expect me to tell Lady Swandown that you are jealous of the duke. I have refused to marry him because I love you. What need is there for jealousy after that?" "I will not believe it, even though you admit it yourself. I have faith in you—you will not betray that faith. I refuse to believe that you could be so wantonly, so needlessly cruel," "And I think you needlessly foolleth to make so much of what is really so little. You have placed me in a most embarrassing position. Do you knew that people are positively discussing whether I dare go after your publicly expressed opinion? Why did you say so much about it, Clinton?" "Why, indeed? Because I believed the woman who loved me would have sacrificed a little selfish amusement to please me." "It is not question of selfish amuse- ment," she answered, proudly. "It is this—it is a question of my obedience to your wishes." "Well?" he said, for she paused ab- ruptly. "Well," she continued, looking in his face with a smile, so beautiful and win- ning that his heart melted within him— "well, I am not one of the obedient kind, as you know." What more could he say or do? Words, arguments, entreaties were al! in vain. Still he could not bring him- self to believe that she would really go, when he had expressed such de- cided opinions. "It shall be the test," be said to him- self, as he watched her—"it shall be the test. She says she loves me; she treats me coolly. There are times when I think she cares for me. and times again when I feel sure she does not. This. shall be the test. If she loves me, she will not go; if she gees, it will be that she does not love me. And, if it tears the heart from my breast, I will give her up—I will leave her. I will marry no woman who does not love me. I will not be a dupe or a slave." Yet he loved her so well, so -madly, that even as he sail tbesetbitter things to himself, his eyes were, dim with tears. Then he felt that 'she was nrar him—yes, she was standing there, wibh a pretty mase rosebud in her White fingers. She fastened it in, his coat. "Every breath of that perfume is n message from me." she said. ' And he kissed the sweet white hand, saying to hi'mseif., over and over again, that she would never do this thing, which she knew would' vex. and :grieve CHAF'.L17R VII. The wieked :i'ro�rld enjoys lovers' quar- rels. No one knew how the story spread, but before long every one was tenting about it, telling, with laughing faces, that Lady May was , going to take a part in the play, and that Sir Clinton 'ryas not willing.' Wagers ware laid pretty freely. Iitopeless lovers, who de - e -sloe Sir Clinton because he had won the Inounfelt Iterate, fancied there was a gleam of tient. If she :persisted in. going, it might loud ` to a quarrel—if they quatrreJerl, i rrting might toilette; and if they parted, there was most cm -- minty a chance for someuue, else. No GDR dared to speak to Sir Clinton ab'mt it, With all his geniality and pleasant manuel, there was soutething of haugh- ty reserve. The ladies, too, were in- terested in the .questlorz; it had a pecu' liar personal application, for all of they. It w•as a mutter of obedience and sub- mission. 31ust of them could retuem- bet- such struggles in their on•ii earner, and they looked oil with amused in- terest. They knew that whoever won rn this case would be master for life. Would Lady May go, or would she not? For such a trifling matter, it was wonderful flow .•mach discussion was excited, A struggle for supremacy is always amusing— that was piquant, IWould she go? Some declared that she had assisted at the rehearsals—that they had seen the superb costumes; others declared that Lady May had ad- atndoned the idea, and the countess was in despair. When any one ventured to male inquiries of the young duke, be looked radiantly happy, and said; "Wait entail the evening comes." It was but a trifle, aitlloug'li it affected three lives; and it was marvelous what intensity et interest such a trifle excited. Sir Clinton wondered in after years how lie had endured the suspense of those few days. }le loved Lady May with such depth of worship, such in- tensity of affection, that his love was almost a pain to him. tie had no thought but for Iter; he hadd no ether idea, no other interest in life, She watt the whole world to him, Nations a beht decay, kings rise and fall—.he bad no world, he bad no interest. Looking on the face be loved, he forgot all e!se, Hit bad loved icer with the same Passion- ate love from the first moment he raw her, and be would so love her until he died. He said to himself that even after death he must love her, for bis love was mare than mortal. He knew that he had gained a won- derful victory Su wililalug hereetinet others were envious and jealous. He had felt supreme scorn when people said be was marryitag her for stoney. One hair of her beautiful head was worth more to Itim than all the ma u" ;v in the world—one glance of her Latin eyes, one sweet word from her lips, out- weighed all riches. "Loved her tar lter money!" IIs laughed at the noti, n. Ile loved ber for Iter own beautiful sell', and nothing else. Ile would bare married .bier bad sbe been the beggar girl and he Bing Cophetna, }Ie knew it wan not the world's way to love in this mall, earnest fashion, He knew that those wbo were envious of him were not capable of understanding Ids love --he hardly knew its depth Ulm- self; but when be tried to estimate at, It frightened 1tim. One day when a little group of his Wends were discussing, the beauties of the day, one turned to Rini: "You have carried off the belle at last --at least, you intend carrying her off. Lady May Trevlyn is the conte- !lest girl in London. I suppose It was her beautiful face that won your heart." Wass it? Long after that little group of friends had dispersed, rte asked him- seelf the question. "Was it the face he loved?" Nol He said to himself that if she lost her beauty', It disease or accident robbed her of it, he should love her just the sante. It was not for her beauty alone; he could not tell what it was for. He only knew that in all the wide world site was the one woman for him—that no other face was fair, no other voice sweet, save hers. He loved her so, tbat if she had bidden him die for her, he would have died with a smile on his face. He would have lavished all that he had on her—he would have given her his life and all that it held; but his great love did not unman him. With it all, he would not be a slave. If she had bade him, for love of her, thrust his right hand into the flames and hold it there, he would have done it; but in her acting love scenes with another man—consent to doing Stet which he bad earnestly, resolutely, hon- estly forbidden—that would he not do, come what would! He was in a fever of anxiety. Would 'she go, or would she not? When he asked her, she looked at him, with cairn, serious eyes: "Of course I am going Clinton. I told you so from the first." He began to despair. This was his test, and he seemed to be failing. "May," he said, one morning, "I have been thinking of a story I read puce. I cannot remember the name. In it there was a girl, like yourself, beautiful and beloved. There was a hero, trio, whose merit was mine—the passionate love he had for his fiancee." "It is not uncommon," she said, with a smile. "But listen, dear. The gird was beautiful, light of heart, easily led; and she, just as you have been, was pressed to take a part in some private thea- tricals. Her lover forbade it." "Forbade it?" repeated Lady May. "Yes; men know how to command. He forbade it. She resisted, and he told her to choose between her plea- sure and himself—that if, against h:s wish, she persisted in going, they must part." Her face grew pale, her eyes flashed proudly. `F_e was insolent." she said. "Not at all. As her accepted lover, as her promised husband, he had his rights; he was not insolent in enforce ing them. " "How did it end?" she asked. "How do such stories generally end?" he asked, mournfully. "It ended as you may imagine.. Women, 1 tell you, only play at love. She went, and he kept his word—he left her, and never spoke to her again." • "Without doubt she married some one else, and lived happily ever afterward," said Lady May, with averted face. "Without kloubt," he repesated, bite terly, "A little accident. of that kind— s broken engagement, a ruined life. is not much compared to the amusement of, an evening " Suddenly Lady May looked up at the "grave, handsome face of her lover. "Clinton," she said, "ls your story an allegory? Does it wail a threat?" (To he eon trotted). 50 Ling ,I Kinder. Fogg awn that it Is glorious to have the courage to tall the truth, but that it would. be acting the part of the tyrant to thrust It -upon everybody that came along.-- vs "'GREEN RAY" OF THE SUN. Optical. Phenomenon 1Yhleh. Jules Verna Tells.About in n 'tory.. The "green ray," an optical phenome- non which, has been made the foundation of a story by Jules Verne, is a hash of greenish light seen as the limb of the sun rises or sets under certain conditions of the atmosphere. The sea horizon is good for observing it. but the eifeot is woe - aerially seen in the. Alps or other mount tains, and according to Plot Bey in A paper to the Academie des Solenoes, Paris, it is often to be observed in Egypt from the point of the delta to.Alexandrle or Suez, either at rise or set 0f sun, The ray is distinctly visible, and always of an emerald green, which is brighter as a rule at sunrise than sunset. At sunset, when the eye can follow the effect better, the ray sometimes appears longer ana ultimately takes a blue tinge. Thie blue ray has also been.obeerved preceding the green ray at sunrise, for example, by William Goff, near the ruins of Memphis, not far train the stepped pyramid of Sag- garah, He even thinks the ancient Egpy- tians wore familiar with it, beoauso in monuments of the fifth dynasty and others Sbo sign "Kba, representing the rising sun, has the outer streak of a blue solar and the two inner etreake are green, Their writings also speak of the green, gess of the sun on rising, and they liken ft to an emerald. It is evident from all this that the "green ray" is an objective, not a subjective, phenomenon, and that the horizon of the sea has nothing to do with lie 'Nevertheless, the state of the atmosphere evidently has to do with it, ttltd that of Egypt, ordinarily pure, eeen,e to have much, for the ray Is seldom assn °l:iewbent on land, THE NEW MEDAL, L►eslila of the Deoor+,tlott for the Opera" bone of 1565 and 1870. Subjoined Is a out oi; the reverse of the medal which bus been struck is Itngiand for presentation to the naombora of the Gunad!an anilitin and of the Imperial forces who were an active service during the Fenian nide and on the Tied laver expedition. Tne design of the reverse in- vlunes a wreath of maplo leaves sur- rounding the nritisb ensign. across whioh floats a ribbon bearing the word "Canada." The obverse bas a portrait of the queen. The anodal will be accompan- ied by bars bearing respectivoly the 'words "Fenian Raid, 1800," "Fenian. Haid, 1170," and "Red River, 1570." Among those who will receive the decora- tion is the Dube at Vor"naught, To Sitlaar,.etio Acetri,, ,a (:es. It is announced tint carbolite can be ouseufaot;irel from the blast furnace slag, Carbolate is accessary to the pro - (auction of ethylene gas, which, Isis sold, Is better than acetylene gas, though possessing the excellencies of the latter. To make this new substituoo slag, while molten, is poured into converters such as are usedfor the manufacture of Besse- mer steal, and pulverized cake le blown through the liquid masa by insane of the air blast. Next the malted slag, thorough- ly permeated by the pulverized `oke, is subjected to Weed ie treatment, by moans of which the slag is fused with the coke. Than the mass is poured off into molds and allowed to cool, atter 'which it is boxed with tin and wood and bowmen oarbolite in a ,commercial form. One of the inventor's claims Is that this material will produce a gas superior to acetylene, at much less cost—an announcement of unusual importance if it is well founded. Scltopenitatteee Uis,tppoi!Innen t. The story is told that a friend, invited to dine with Sohouonhauer at bis favorite restaurant, where a number of officers were in the habit of meeting, noticed that Sohoponhauer took a gold coin from his pnckot before eating and Laid it on the tattle beetle him, When the meal was over the philosopher replaced the coin in bis purse. 'Upon a question from has friend, Schopehauer explained: "I have been dining with these officers for some time," be said, "and about two months ago I registered a silent vow to give the gold coin, of considerable value, to some worthy charity on the very first occasion that I should hear these gentlemen talk of anything but women, horses and the chances of promotion. You see I still have my stoney." He 'Won the Day. .An Irishman was foreman of a jury who had to try a man for murder. Word was sent to him that be would be paid £200 if he persuaded tbe jury to return a verdict of manslaughter. This verdict was returned, and the friends of the prisoner came and readily paid the money. "Did you have much trouble in getting that verdict?" asked one. "Faith, an' I had an awful struggle," said the son of Erin. "The • rest of the fury wanted to acquit hint, but, bogorra, I wouldn't give way t"—Answers, A Fijian, " "ChappieJ' Few Fijians have learned to speak English. A well-known traveller, while on the King's Isle of Ban, happened in an emergenoy to want a shilling. efe turned to a very superior -looking Fijian, dressed, of rather undressed, like an ordinary native, and on the offohance said in English,"Havo yon a shilling about you?" With a drawl that one would ex- pect from a Johnny in the Gaiety bar, the native replied, "'Upon my soul, dealt boy, I haven't got even a blooming cop- per I" He was the King's son, and had bean sent to Sydney to be educated. Son Ca for Soldiers. Reoognizinpt he good re suite that accrued from soldiers singing when on the march, the Belgian Minister for War, bas just ordered 25,000 books of patriotic and military songs, as an experiment. These will be distributed to the men in infantry regiments, and classes for sing- ing will be instituted in the barracks. .A similar experiment made in France has been attended with marked enooess, the number ot'stragglers on the .march being reduced' by 70 For ; cent. owing to the singing. Don't worty 1)., Cow.' A rough, quick-tempered man should never be tolerated around the cow stable. 'Ib loves quietude. e cow 1 ve Any disturbance which exoltes her lessens if it doss not ' oto the secretion and flow of milk. 1t is: very easy for an employe, by kicking and beating a eowjust before or while he is milking, to lessen her mink flow by one- ha1f. This Is called "boldin u B P" the milk. It is really a prevention of milk beoretion,,and the milk thus lost does not owns down at any subsequent milk - 11 >if.