The Exeter Advocate, 1896-4-2, Page 2LIFTED BY LOVE;
Or, flow the Wharf Waif
Became a Princesz.
eumesuen nv smut. AnitAxasumm.
"It was credible enough to me. The
warning came from a reliable friend in
the minister's household. The odd
thing is that I have heard. nothing since
from him or other friends who watch
the motions of the police, It looks as if
he had found a new ageat—one less
known to ue than the old hands."
."The villainous lookingscoandrel you
mentioned?"
"Oh, dear, no. He is only a subagent
employed uy tne agent in ehief, who
himself takes care to keep well out of
the way. He may be directing the af-
fair from Paris or Berlin, Certainly he
would not jeopardize his own life or his
position by an attack of this kind. The
whole business has to be done by care-
fully concealed means,. like one of those
clocks which defy ingenuity to discover
where the motive power is situated. It
would never do, in case of exposure. for
a known emissary of the Russian gov-
ernment to be implicated in a conspir-
acy against the freedom of a subject on
British soil."
"That did not occur to me at the mo-
ment. What steps have you taken since
this attempt?"
"Made my will and"—
"Surely they will not attempt to as-
sassinate your Kavanagh said quickly,
interrupting Tams.
'Assassinate? No! Tbe rascals have
too much respect for your hangman and
their own necks to %Tatum ou that. But
they would not hesitate to kill me if
they could justify themselves by a nlea
of self defence. That might have hap-
pened the ether night if they had not
taken me so completely by surprisethat
I could offer no resistance, Every one
of them had his knife ready, and. I
should have been cut down as sure as
fate if their cords had not belt' me. Tala
ing place in a villainous waterside beer -
house, my death would have been attri-
buted to a drunken brawl, and all evi-
dence of my identity being removed, it
is doubtful if the papers would take any
notice of the inquest. It was all calcu-
lated to a nicety—the agent must have
gone over the ground and mapped .it
out clearly. I would' give anything to
know who he is,"
"It is horrible to fight in the dark,
You never know when the blow may
fall."
"Ncr, nor who may strike it—that's
the worst part of the business. It
shakes one's faith. The naan you trust
turns out to be your enemy—your
favorite haunt a nest of spies—anything
may happen at any moment. I fancy
they will give me a respite now. 1 van
all right for a time."
"Is it not possible," said Kavanagh,
"is there not just a chance that the
attack was intended rather as a warning
than anything else. and that they would
have suffered you to escape if the girl
had,not forestalled them? If they silenced
you! to.night, your works would still
exist. They cannot mule them, and
they know it. Sent to Siberia, you be-.
eome a martyr, and a greater importance
is given to your work. It seems to inc
that the agents—the minister, the ezar
himself—will be satisfied with this
D'io-lfeetation of power and drop the
affair."
*ee r awhile possibly—probably, prob.
ably, indeed. But when they find that
I do not profit by the warning and will
not accept their conditions of neutrality
—that I am neither a child nor an old
woman to be frightened by menaces of
fature punishment from the course
directed by my conscience"—
"But, my dear fellow, it is not as if
you were still au active enemy."
"If yon. think I am nothing but a pas.
'sive enemy, you are wrong." said Turas,
with more fire in his voice than I had
yet heard. They have something to
gain by my removal. For months I
have been meditating a new attack, and
the czar knows it. for he has spies in
our camp as we have friends in his. I
have only been waiting for the idea, and
the idea came to my mind the first time
I saw Aura. I owe her that as well,
poor girl. Come up with me, and I will
shove the shell 1 anx preparing to throw
. at the czar's feet."
As their chairs moved I slipped from
the door and ran up to my room to
meditate on what I had heard and form
a clearer conceptieo. no it$ meaning.
CH..121.ti'd, XII.
THE TIGHT Eon LIFE.
Taros gave me his hand when we met
"the next morning down stairs. I took
it in silence, being unprepared for this
form of greeting which I had never
before exchanged with any one, and
which now lrinelled an emotion in my
breast that threw all my ideas into con-
fusion. But before I let his warm palm
leave my. clinging fingers the earnest
purpose I had come to in the night re-
asserted itself, and. I said:
"Here, I'm a goin to begin to day in
real earnest."
"That's right," said he, smiling but
with serious feeliug in his deep eyes.
"I ain't aegoin to talk dilecks to any
living being any more 'ceptin yott. I'm
a -gone to talk French like Mere Lucas
does. Presenly I'll go in the kitchen
and pint out things, and I'll just listen
to her till I can make out what she's
drivin at. And I'm a-goin to take stock
of everything you do, too, and say
things softer like and. naore pleasant,
same as what you do. And I'll set to
and learn readin and veritin if you only
show me how—jist for a start. But I
ain't aegoin to be no 'normous trouble.
I won't be a, bit more trouble 'an I can
help. Whatever you tell me to do, I'll
take and do it, whether I likes it or not
—seer
eyes.
"Here"—after swallowing my corn-
punction—"I Jaeered all what you said
\ last night."
So I perceive."
"When you're a-goin out, and don't
want to take roe along of you, do you
mind telling me where you are gain and
'bout what time you'll be home?"
‘T am not sure that I should quite
like that."
"Oh, don't fancy Fria a•goin to feller
Yon about and be a nuisance. No fear!
I shouldn't like that myself. But if you
didn't turn up, say two or three hours
rater the time, I might jist take a
skivvey round and see if it was all right,
doncher know? It shouldn't make no
difference to you, 'Cause I'd take care.
you didn't know it, but it'd make a lot
--eaat
of differeuce to me, 'cause J shouldn't
have to do it underhanded like, and 1
ehould feel a lump easier,"
"In that case, I will tell you, when I
think of it."
Then, seeing my troubled look, pos-
sibly, and my silence that my mind was
not yet relieved of its charge, he added:
"Anything else, little friend?"
"Yes, 1 got suathin else to say, but it
kinder sticks half way. Here, don'tyou
bother about makin 'rangements with
that feller to look alter me in case any-
thing—you know, don't you? I can't
say it, It's too dreflie to talk about.
But I dout waut to be held by any en%
You wouldn't like that. If you go
away, 1 shall just come arter you, and
it don't matter where nor how—d'ye
hear?"
There was pain in his face as he
nodded assent, but to disguise the feel-
ing he asked lightly:
"Is there nothing else?"
"Nothing 'tickler," I replied with a.
sigh of relief. "I've got up the wust of
it. But you might tell me what this
thing is you are a-goin to heave at some.
s feet, else I know I'll have to go
pokin and pre•in about to find. out."
"Well, as Mere Lucas has only just
taken in the mak, we can go into the
workshop and satisfy your curiosity
without keeping breakfast waiting. This
is a pretty frock. I have not seen it be-
fore. I think."
"Course you ain't," said I, stopping
and turning around slowly, with huge
delight. to be admired. "Tea gowns is
for arternoons, welkin dresses is for
outdoors aua this is far mornies."
"I ought to have known that—it's so
crisp and bright and fresh," said he.
We passed through the back yard and
up a few steps into a long glazed work-
shop, which had been rented from the
cabinet maker next door. I looked.
around, expecting to see some terrible
instrument. Innumerable plaster casts
hung from the rafters, The end, wall
was covered with rough sketches in
charcoal, A potter's wheel stooa near
the window, with a, trough of clay be-
side it, Same odd looking tools lay
on a bench, but they only looked
like misshapen spoons. In the middle
of the warreehop, however, there was
something on a stout stand, carefully
enveloped in a damp cloth, and a little
further on stood another stool bearing a,
smaller mass similarly covered. Taras
went up to the larger of the two things
and began carefully to remove the
cloth, while I stood by waiting in eager
curiosity to know what it was that ex-
cited the animosity of the police to such
an extent.
"There it is,"gaid Taras. lifting the
last fold of the cloth and revealing a
group of figures, roughly mode.ed in
clay.
I walked round the stand, touchea the
soft clay, and then, looking at Tams in
perplexity, said:
it'; (rely images."
"That is
"\uii, harm -will it do any one
if you throw it at his feet? It wouldn't
kill him if you threw it at his head."
"Ab, but this is only a sketch of a
much larger one I shall make," said he,
with a twinkle of merriment in his eye,
"The figures will bo life size, and they
will be burued hard in a kiln, which,
you see, would make a differenee if it
came to throwing it at anybody's head,
but that was only a manner of speaking,
Come, I will make it clear to you if
eatt. This female figure represents my
country in the last stage of despair and
humiliation. The man tearing the dress
from her shoulders is a bratal exeou-
tioner with an iron thougel whip in his
haul The third fi.mre is the czar, who
has given the order for this helpless wo-
ma to be flo,zget1 and is standing by to
see his order carried out, callous to his
victim's suffering."
"What has the woman done?"
• "She has dared to tell the czar that
she is not his slave."
"What's this down alongside the wo-
man" I asked.
"The czar's dog—licking her hand."
• ..e's got more feeling than
the man has?"
• You begin to see what I
mean."
"It's a -comma to me," I said after a
few moments of profound thinking.
arm gettin at it by a little at a time.
That woman, your country, 's got a look
like mine was, all nais'able :tad wretch-
ed like, and you're a-goin to give her
new life like you're gi in me and alter
her face so as people shall hardly know
her again."
"Would to heaven I niight!" he ex-
claimed. fervently. "One life is too
short for such a work—one hand too
feeble. I can but hope to awaken the
sympathv of humanity and start the cry
of indignation which shall shame the
czar to mercy."
The group had a new interest for me.
The longer I looked at it the more it fas-
cinated me. The central' figure ceased
to be an image. It was a living woman
suffering as I had suffered.
"I guess she feels like I felt," said 1,
"Like as if nothing couli make her feel
wus, and it didn't matter what happen -
Texas assented.
"Better she hadn't got no soul nor
nothin. Better she was dead if she
hain't got a friend to help her up and
give her a new life."
"That's it But we must find friends
to help her, warm the hearts of other
nations toward her and kindle a spirit
of hope and courage into that poor faint-
ing heart, and we will if we can keep
out of the hands of the police."
- If he could keep out of the hands of
the police! My existence also depended
upon thlt. Recognizing so much,
the instinct of. self preservation
inspired me with a fierce desire and de-
termination to find out and fight this
secret emissary of the czar. The enemy
()nee discovered, I would meet cunning
with cunning, dare anything, hesitate
at nothing to save the man who made
the worla dear to me. It would be a
light for life, and one of u must fall.
CHAPTER XIII.
AN ODD WARY.
1u my room there was a table with an
empty dtawer which fastened with a
key. It is half full of rubbish—odds
and ends of all sorts secreted there as
souvenirs of those early days when I
was incapable of keeping any other
kind of diary. They have served their
purpose. There is not a sCrap which
fails to recall the very sentiment of the
moment when I laid it away, and it
would be easy to compile a minute
record of my life hi Lambeth from them
alone, A few of these trifles will suffice
to indicate the coarse of events during
the early months of my new life.
Here at the very bottom are three
penny novellettes, bought for the inns -
tratiaus on the cover, evnica alone were
iutelligible to me. In one "Lady
Ermyntrucle overhears the conspiracy"
and is represented listening, with 'horror
on her face, at a half opened door; 'in
another "Gwendoline ,denounces the
baronet," who is quailing in terror be-
fore her outstretched finger, and in the
third "Beryl says Tie!' ana shoots ties
villain"—and a most unmistakable vil-
lain he is—"through the heart." Those
pictures fascinated 'me. The heroines
were all tall and beautiful, and a couple
of them were in evening dress. I put
myself in their place.. The ladylike
accomplishment of eavesdropping I had
already practiced. I had only to un-
mask the . secret enemy of Tares and
shoot him through the heart to be
perfectly satisfied. And the means
seemed almost witan my reach. The
revolver had .not been removed. from
my room. For weeks I carried that
dangerous and scenewhat cumbrous
weapon in my dress pocket. I smile
now at my simplicity, but my purpose
was no laughing matter then; I was in
terrible earnest.
• A long claspknife marks the day when
I might dispense with part of my port-
able armory which knocked against my
knee whenever I moved about. The
complete absence of fear shown by
Tams. and the mild manner and innocent
look of all his visitors had greatly
ealmed iny apprehensions, and in ad-
dition to this a wider intelligence showed
me that the. hand counted for less thau.
e lain in copi.40 with the subtle
enemy of Tares.
One night Taras took me to the West-
minster Music hall. Here is the pro-
gratnme of the spectacles which consti-
tuted. two-thirds of the entertainment.
I had never before been inside a theatre,
and when I stood in the stalls and looked
ronnd d anabove me I was quite over-
come with astonishment at the vastness
and brillianey of the house. •
"I should think this is the grandest
place in all the wbrld," I said in a
lowered voice to Tares.
A little fartaer on there is another
programme, showing that soon after we
went the performance began. The play
made less impression on my mind. I
could not understand it all. My intel-
ligence was not yet sufficiently expauded
to comprehend the higher art. and per-
haps tilts was why Tares took ma first
to the music hall. Still that evening's
experience was delightful, and the long
talks it led to afterward opened quite
new field, of ideas.
Very different emotions are recalled
by this handkerchief,. torn and shredded
in a passion of furious jealousy. I must
have used my teeth to rend it in this
way. It was that evening wheu George
Gordon dropped in aftee dinner aud
Kavanagh, with a couple of friends,
came in after. As usual when a visitor
called, I went up to my room to avoid
unpleasantaess, for I had stuck scrupu-
lously to my determination to speak
English only to Taras, and I was only
just beginning to make myself under-
stood in French to Mere' Lucas. 'The
men stayed and played. cards until 2 in
the morning, and I sat on the steps and
listened to the sounds that came from
below, with venomous jealousy rankling
in my breast, the cold sweat of rage
beading my lips and brow, when the
jovial, voice and hearty laugh of Taros
reached nay ear.
When the party broke up I went
down, ostensibly with the pretest of
saying "good night" to Tares. but with
the covert intention of picking a quarrel
—of impartiug io him something of the
vi-coaThitiee misery I felt. Seeing my
coreeetion, lie made me sit down, and
havtag lit a pipe seated himself in the
chair opposite and chatted about the
frieutls who were gone, as though it
weie the most natural thing in the
world to enter into general conversation
at that hour.
Little by little he led up to my occu-
pation during the evening, and after
bringing hy my own confession to
sea how childishly selfish, weak and
inconsistently foolish my jealousy vas
he drew tears of regret and shame into
my eyes by a sympathetic word and
then inspired me with the consoling
hope that my own Self esteem would
save me from any renewal of this
humiliation. A second • handkerchief,
scarcely crumpled and laid away in tri-
umph after a hard struggle with myself,
shows that I profited by this lesson later
on when the friends met again. Indeed
my temper was every day growing more
amenable to reason, and I grew braver
and I hope better under the gentle,
humanizing bifluences which my dear
friend constantly brought to bear upon
me.
A day spent in the beautiful country
beyond Woking is chronicled in this
bunch of withered flowers. This was a
fresh revelation to me, for with the
exception of my memorable wandering
to Greenwich I had never been out of
London. It was in the first week of
June. My astonishment began soon
after we passed Clapham and increased
as the houses grew fewer and the expanse
of country wider, and I could not help
bursting out in exclamations of delight
now and then.
Tares caught my enthusiasm and was
as reedy as I to point out any fresh as-
pect. When we were fairly in the -coun-
try and aWayfrom the station And peo-
ple, I felt that I must sing or run or cry
to give vent to my exuberant emotion.
It seemed as if Tares and I were one --I
saw with his eyes, heard with . his ears,
and in my heart was a sentiment of
pure, ineffable love and divine tender-
ness which belonged more to his nature
than to mine. He picked these flowers
for me; I strewed them on my pillow
and pressed my burning face on their
cool petals when I lay down that night.
One more extract from this odd col.
lection shall close the list. It is a collec-
tion of paintinga by Prince Borgensky,
exhibited at the modern gallery in Bond
street. I had often heard the word
"nihilism" and "nihilist" spoken in
Lambeth. and one morning when .we
were walking in the park—we never
failed to go out for an hour or two be-
fore lunch—I asked. Tares to tell me
what a nihilist was.
"A Russian nihilist," said he, "is a man
who desires. freedom for his country
such ae we enjoy here in England, if he
can get it But he would be quite con-
tent with less."
"Are you a nihilist" said I.
He nodded. '
"Have you always been a nihilist?' I
asked.
"No; I was once a servant—I might
'almost say a friend—of the czar, who is
now my enemy." . •
--Weat name you become a nihilist?"
He reflected longer than he usually
did before replying to my questions and
then said;
" I will show you, Aura," and turning
from the path he led me across the park
and over Piccadilly into Bend street.
1311 CON TINIIICE.
NIGHT ROBES FROM FARM.
Imported Confections or Lace and Lawn In
New Spring Design.
Confeetions of mull, lace and corded
ribbon court favor in the form of night-
gowns. The Paris productions outrank
all others in exquisiteness of material
and making. Late novelties in this line
are more elaborate and costly than ever
before. Soft mull muslin is used when
the lace treatment is to be Valenci-
ennes. Linen cerebric is the chosen su-
perstruottire upon which finely woven
torobon borders the ruffles and divides
the group of tucks. The latest contribu-
tions of underwear from the Front% cap-
ital are eharraing creations, with prices
accordingly high. Two of the leading
nightgowns are selected for illustra-
tioThe kerchief effeet has superseded the
Marie Antoinette. One gown developed
of mull in this fashion is worth M. A
rolling collar ends in two broad revers,
which cross each other at the waist line,
A deep lace ruffle in Marguerite Valen-
ciennes sews on to an inch -wide bead-
ing, through which azure -hued corded
ribbon is threaded. A flowing back,
with the suspicion of a train, increases
its graceful appearance. '1he waist is
short in front, with a girdle of ribbon
knotted into loops and ends reaching
the length of the night-dress. The
sleeves come to the elbow and are fin-
ished by a lace ruffle,
Lk moque-shaped garment has about
the neck a lace ruche, amid the folds of
wbioli and about the jabot extending
down tho front ribbon rosettes play'at
"hide and seek." A short yoke is formed
of tuck; and insertion, banded by the
inevitable beribboned beading, and this
forms a heading for a frill of lace
stretching from arm -hole to arm -hole.
Tbe sleeves are out a la Bishop and
shirred into a perpendicular strip of
narrow insertion. The garment is madti
entirely by hand, and is to sell for some -
ting over NO,
A really serviceable nightdress is
made of nainsook. Flowing sleeves of
(
evelet oinbroidery aro tremendously
effective, falling away froin the shoulder
and leaving the whole arm bare. A yoke
of the same pattern is used, with the
scalloped edge sewn down upon the
It is ola:ed frani mali ta heni
by means of pearl buttons, or gold ones
if preferred.
Tim French ides of beauty in unseen
garments is cleverly demonstrated in a
lawn "robe cia nuit." which is hand-
somely trimmed in rufEes.of mcusselaine
de sole. A series of them are put about
the neek,and they aro ornamented by an
appliqued feather -stitch coneozing with
butter -colored point Brussls insertion.
Triple ruffles aro set upon the half -long
sleeves. Lace tucks and ribbons contri-
bute largely to the inah-e-up.
All these garnients make their weekly
trip to the cleaner's and under no cir-
cumstances come in contact with soap
and water. Sacliet bags lining the bu-
reau drawers counteract the 'unpleasant
odors of it cleaned garment, and frequent
sun baths complete the freshoniug pro -
MM.
Practical Suggestions.
Hot water is one of the best remedies
for tired eyes. After reading, writing
or sewing for any length of time bathe
the eyes in water as hot as possible. This
will rest and greatly refresh them. Hot
water bathing just before retiring is also
an excellent remedy for sleeplessness.
When economy of space must be con-
sidered the shoe bag is invaluable. It
should be fastened inside the closet door
and made of duck, denitn or linen. In
addition to the row of bags for sitoes
there should be other smaller bags for
the ;zife keeping of tbe various odds and
ends about an apartment which never
seem to bave a place of thel r own. Now
that the delft craze is upon us a useful
as well as good-looking shoe bag may be
made of delft blue denim, embroidered
and bound in white. Let the piece of
denim for the foundation of the bag
reach straight across the closet door.
Sewn to this foundation are the bags,
each ono bearing white embroidered
letters and the whole spelling the word
shoes. Above the shoe bags are the
smaller pockets in a row or there are but
two -pockets, ,one in each of the upper
tornere. The Shoe bagshould be bound
with White ribbon, and will be found
most useful. -
Murmurs of Fashion.
Rose pink crepork with ecru laoe, and
a touch in the borders of very dark
red, will suit most complexions.
Lapels square and lace bordered, epau-
lets square and loaded with sequinage,
flchus long and narrow—these furnish
variety.
tyTgowne are made with huge square
epaulets, lace laden, with watteau pleats
at front and back and with' heavy cord
girdles loosely knotted in front. If the
figure is very slender the cord may pass
across the back. For stout or medium
figures it should be attached at either
side, under the lapel which, bordered
with lace, flows uninterrupted to the
bem.
Tho rage for mohair is universal. A
bunch of samples sent from e Paris man-
ufaeturing house shows countless varie-
ties of this stuff. The plain colors, from
black and dark blues, etc., to pale even-
ing tints, are light weight, glossy and
fine. Puro white ones make charming
yachting gowns and afternoon caning
frocks for file Riviera, and the dark col-
ors are matchless for traveling. They are
so comfortable to sit in, and shed the
duet so easily, that black satin or silk for
traveling will not be used as heretofore.
Other mohairs are mixed with wool, giv-
ing a ribbed surface and a obangeable'
effectstur others' are so thin as to be
transparent and have a narrow stlk stripe
of another oolor running through them.
These will he built over a coiered silk
lirtiag—t3 a yard is the price.
_
A DESIRABLE MODERN BARN.
Et Constructed on a Plan Which insures
Great Economy of Labor.
A New England farmer, who is inter-
ested in the subject and has inspected a
Large number of barns in several states,
DIAGRAM OF MODERN BARN.
gives the benefit of his observations and
experience to others throngh the col -
awns of The Farm Journal. He says:
LI most instances I have been pleased
to note a growing demand for conven-
iences and space that will house a larger
proportion of stook or crops tothesquare
yard of roof surface than has been clone
by the shelters raised by our forefathers,
The determination is also manifest to
protect the manure heaps as well as
stock and implements., After giving
nnich thought to the subject Ihave
drawn a plan of some features whichtho
modern model should contain, .with
greater or less modifications, It does
not embrace everything, and.yet for
dairyiug- and stock feedine..its main
features are invaluable, as it saves time
and labor without being more expensive'
than if it were built after the old time
plans.
Nothing is said in relation as to how
the stables are to be divided. This is a
subject which each man must decide for
himself, according to the stock, crops
and local conditions. It will be found
usually most satiefactory to keep the
horses and cow or sheep stalls in long
rows on the first floor, and. clear the sta-
bles after tho stock has been turned out
by opening trapaoors into the pit below.
A very successful farmer whom I visited
in Dateliess county, N„ Y., has the ma-
nure hauled out and. spread every day in
the year, excepting when overdriven
during harvest. During this time the
manure is left in the pit and got out for
top dressing mowings directly after the
mall. Where the splendid economy of
daily drawing is practicable it is possi-
ble to construct chutes or troughs just
beneath the trapaoors evtich will hold
from one to ten loads, according to the
amoinit of stock kept, and whieh can be
made to discharge their contents into a
'wagon after ip has backed under them.
A successful way of making such a
trough is to uso two inch plank to cover
a frame made V shape out of two by four
inch scantling, one side of the V to be
hiaged at tho top and closely held against
its mate at the bottom by a heavy bolt
at either end which may be withdrawn
at the same instant by the use of a lever.
These troughs should extend to within a
few inches of the top of the wagon box,
so that their contents will not need to
plunge too heavily into the carts or
wagons.
My model may be termed a gravity
barn, because the natural law is taken
advantage of in handling all fodclerein-
eluding ensilage and other heavy sub-
stances, no lifting nor high pitching be-
ing required. 11 is erected in a sidehill,
from the highest point of which wagons
loaded are driven into the peak at the
gable end. Where a plank incline is re -
SHOWING DRIVE, FLOORS, SILOS, ETC.
quired, an extra heavy timber frame
should , first be erected and then well
planked. This portion of the edifice
should be made as short as possible by
filling in the approach. An extreme case
is shown in the second cut, including
the heavy frame required for such a
length of incline and platform.
Directly beneath the drive floor the
thrashing floor is located, and this may
be filled full to the drive floor if desired
through trap doers or removable sections
in the drive floor. No ensilage carriers,
hay forks nor macttinery nor time for
driving them will ever be required in
such a barn. The stock enters the first
floor from a level, and the manure is
drawn out through a large door on the
jos ex hillside. On this side also mowers
and other machinery and farm rolling
stock are run in out of the weather. The
posts of this barn are 18 by 20, and the
roof is a quarter pitch.
In the first cut is represented at A,
platform and floor; B, thrashing floor;
G, dung 'pit; D, cows or sheep; E, wagons
and machines; F, underground founda-
tion; H, silos. In the second cut is shown
at A, platform and floor; B, thrashing
floor; P, underground foundation; H,
silos; L thmve L, supports
Recipe For Sausage Meat.,
For 40 pounds meat—One pound salt,
a qtarter pound pepper, a quarter pound
cayenne, 2 ounces each of sage and
thyme. Pack the meat closely in. un-
bleached =Win bags, hang in a cold
place, and it will keep till warm weather.
SUBSTITUTES FOR HAY.
The Importuneo of cornstalks and Strips.
For Stook Feeding.
Professor 5 B Voorhees of the New
jersey agricultural experiment station,
in a bulletin on cornstalks and straw ae
hay substitutes, furnishes some valuable
information to farmers and answers the
ever recurring query as to the proper
use of cornstalks and straw for stock
feeding. As Professor Voorhees explains,
one reason why corn fodder and straw
have a low feeding value is that they are
coarse foods. They raust be made finer
before they are fed. To obtain the best
results they should be fined by being
ran through a cutter and softened either
by mixing with roots and grain or Steam-
ed or dampened with hot water. It may
safely be said that unless these things
are done it will be impossible to obtain
the full feeding value of these coarse
foods. The saving of three tons of hay
in a season will pay all the cost of cut.
ting and softening stalks and straw.
Attention is called in this bulletin to
statements made by the French minis-
ter of agriculture: "It is an error to sup- e4.11
pose that animals On the farm are con-
demned tosuffer or perish if the hay crop
fails, for there are countries where horses
and cattle never receive any hay, and
these countries are renowned for their ,
cattle." He gives the following nutri-
tive equivalents for cattle: One hundred II
pounds of goad average hay can be re-
placed by 11'0 pounds of oat straw, 23'7
pounds of wheat straw, 150 pounds of
oat chaff, 19$ pounds of wheat chaff and
145 pounds of potatoes." It must be re-
membered that while these products in
the quantities given may furnish the
equivalent of nutrition, it does not fol-
low that they would serve equally well
in maintaining life if fed alone A good
feed is not equally good. for all purposes,
and even animals of the same kind differ
in their capacity for using feeds, In
England great progress has been made
in feeding methods. The cut hay, straw
and other coarse products are mixed with
sliced roots, the feeds added, the whole
mass thoroughly nixed and allowed to
remain some time before feeding. This
method doubtless adds to both the palate.
bility and digestibility of the foods.
Professor Voorhees gives a number of
rations for dairy cows, horses and fat-
tening steers, but these are not intended
as positive rules. Animals must be fed
as individuals, with peculiarities of ap-
petite, digestion and assimilation, not as
fixed machines. The remark is made
that .where stock is kept clover hay
should not be solcl from the farm. The
importance of retaining the crops on the
farm or exchanging their value for com-
mercial fertilizers should be well under-
stood, Both cattle and horses will gain
in weight= liberal rations of clover hay.
For young and growing stock, as calves
and colts, linseed meal, bran awl mid-
dlings are the best additions to the rough
fodders, stalks and straw, in the way of
feeds, as nay are rich in the muscle and
bone forming constituents. The amounts
required should be aujusted by the feed-
er according to the ago of the animals.
A Rack For Tools,
The Farm Implement News has illus-
trated several designs for racks suitable
for holding various kinds of tools in ev-
A RACK FOR EVERYDAY USE.
eryday use. The one here presented will
be found, convenient. The drawing is
such as to require no explanation.
Quality of Corn Fodder.
Thero are many causes for variation
in the fodder made by growing corn,
some of them pertaining to the way it is
grown, and others to the skill, or want
of skill, shown in curing it. Corn that
is grown so thickly that its stalks are
thin and white is as nearly worthless as
such feed can be grown. It has little
sweetness and not enough nutrition to
keep anything in good condition, For
fodder Alone corn must be grown so
thinly that nearly every stalk will have
a nubbin on it.
The stalks from field corn that has
borne a crop of ears have more nutrition
than the average of corn thickly sown
grown for fodder alone. Sweet corn
stalks are better than those of the ordi-
nary field variety. This may in part be
owing to the fact that roasting ears are
picked early, and as the leaves continue
to gather mere sweetness it goes into the
stalk after the green ears have been re-
moved. Plucking green ears from ordi-
nary field corn makes the stalks richer, !re
and such stalks are always preferred by
cows when fed with others where the ears
had been removed after being fully rip- ff.:
ened.--American Cultivator.
Things Told by Others'.
The Farm Journal says: Bring the
horse up to the hitching post with his
head from the wind. He will not get so
cold as if his head is toward the wind,
and he will stand better. The horse will
stand more quietly while yon are hitch-
ing him if his head is from the wind.
Bore a small hole in the pump below
the floor or bind it around with straw to
keep it from freezing.
It is foolishness to give the cow ice
told water, squeeze warm milk out of
lier and expect her to keep warm.
To trap muskrats use the common
steel rattrap set at the hole of the rat or
in its trail along a stream. Bate it vvith
fish or carrot.
When the icehouse is filled, do not
put any sawdust on top of the ice until
you have thrown the house open some
stinging cold evening and poured water
over the ice until the crevices are filled.
Leave the house open three or four very
cold nights and the ice will freeze into
one solid mass and keep better.
-