The Exeter Advocate, 1896-9-10, Page 6•
Bob Who• Lostfllrscli
By OHARLES B. LEWIS (M. QUAD).
l:Copyrigiit,1593, by Charles B. Lewis.)
Suppose y�ur name to beRichaid Roe.
Suppose you were required to legally
identify yourself as Richard Roe, hove'
,would you go at it? You would of comae
bring forward people who had known
you for years, tho record of your birth,
the statements of parents or relatives. it
looks as if it would be a very easy thing
for any man to satisfy the law that he is
himself. But it isn't. If the law de
mended full proofs of identification, not
snore than one man out of five could fur-
nish them. Take any 10 of the most
Prominent men in the United States to*
"bOES THE STREET LOOK STRANGE?"
day, and it would be the work of weeks
and weeks for them to furnish indispu-
table proofs that they had a legal right to
the names that they bear. There was a
story in the papers a few months ago re-
lating the difficulties of an heir to some
property in Cincinnati. He was 28 years
old, had been known to a scoreof people
since his childhood, and yet it took him
over two years to prove that he was the
,person he claimed to be,
One day nearly a quarter of a century
ago I awoke from a troubled sleep to find
myself in a hospital ward. in Philadel-
phia. The nurse explained. that I had
been there two weeks. The police had
found me on the street at midnight un-
conscious and evidently the victim of a
robbery. I had been struck on the head
with a sandbag. During the first two
days I had been like one dead. During
'the next five or six I babbled as crazy
people often do. I bad at length come
to myself. My head was as clear as a
bell, and I realized the situation in all its
details. It was 1 o'clock in the afternoon
-when the nurse came over to me and
walked for about five minutes. It was 8
:o'clock when the doctor and a detective
came. During the interval I had slum-
bered again. The doctor expressed his
satisfaction that I had pulled through all
right and added that the police had two
amen in custody who were suspected of
being my assailants. The detective had
come to m^.ke some inquiries. The man
took out notebook and pencil and began:
"Your name, please."
I opened my lips to pronounce it, but
spoke no word. My name had gonefrom
me. 1 must have one, of course, but
what was it? The officer was waiting to
'write it down, but I could not give it to
Lim.
"It'll come to you in a minute," he
said after a queer look at the doctor.
II1Where do you live when at home?"
"At—at— Why, at"—
"Where did. I live? The name of the
place was on my tongue when he asked,
but it suddenly went out of my mind,
nor could I recall it to save my life.
•*I took yon for a stranger," said the
officer. "but perhaps you are a resident
.of the city. Can you tell? This is Phil-
adelphia, yon know."
"Philadelphia! Philadelphia!" I re-
peated. "I never heard of the place be-
fore. Is it a city or village?"
"A large city."
"1 may have lived here, but I can't
say."
"Do you remember of having any trou-
ble with anybody?"
"No."
"What is the last you can remember?"
I closed my eyes and groped for the
past. 1 could go no further back than 1
(o'clock of that afternoon. When I told
Lim this, the look that passed between
the two men frightened me. They saw
it in my face, and the doctor kindly said:
"There. boy, never mind. You are all
right. In a day or two everything will
be clear to you."
When they had gone away, a great
fear fell upon me. Who was I? Where
did I live? Where were my parents and
relatives? The doctor had said "boy" in
speaking to me. Was 1 a boy or an old
scan? [ dared not repeat the questions
to myself. I determined not to think
of the matter, and after a little I put
it away and was soon at ease. There
was a general strangeness about the
room, of course, but all objects were
perfectly familiar to nee. There were
six other patients, and their converse,
tion was intelligible. I don't remember
that anything was talked the next three
days that worried me 16 understand.
'Then the detective came again. I could
remember no more than before. Name,
ige, home—everything previous to the
blew had gone from my memory. I was
sitting up in bed, and he drew me to the
window and said:
"Does the street look strange or fa-
sniliar to you?"
"I—I can't say."
"Do the carriages, cars and pedestrians
interest you? Do you find anything novel
in the sight."
"I like to look."
He had hunted through my clothing to
:find some clew, but nothingwas secured.
He said it appeared to himas if the gar
events had been made by avillage tailor.'
My docks he was sure were home knit,
`while my shoes were custom made. He
overhauled my body for scars or marks,
but none was to be found. In fear and
trembling I asked him my age, and hie'
answer rolled a great burden oil' my
mind,
"Well, the doctor and I are agreed
that you are about 17 years old," he re-
plied. "You are a strong, healthy boy,
and after you get out of here I think ev-
erything will come back to you. Don't
worry about it, however. I am sero I
have got the two hien who robbed you,
blit of course theywill be eet at liberty,
As near as I can figure they took $14
it e i you. I will 'come again in a few
Clays, and perhaps next time you can tell
me all about it,"
Tho newspapers got hold of the case
and published full details, buts no one
came in search of a missing boy.. When
I was able to ride out, I was taken
b•ound the city, but nothing was either
strange or familiar. One day the doctor
pronounced 150 different names in hopes
he might strike my family name, but if
it' was among them I did not remember
it. He went through the list of given
names, but all were strange to me.
Among the callers at the hospital to
see me was a wealthy old man, who had
become interested in the case from a
scientific standpoint. When ready to
leave the hospital, ho offered me a tem-
porary home, and I accepted. He bad a
fine home on the Germantown road, and
I was received into the fancily. He gave
me a name, and after I had been called
by it five or six times it was as familiar
as if I had always borne it. From the
very first day he began making experi-
ments and tests. When I saw a harp in
the house, it was an object of curiosity.
It was the same with a music box and
many other things. It was argued from
this that I had been brought up in some
small village. In some things I was like
a child; in others, as far advanced as the
average boy. For instance, they had to
explain the workings of a lawn mower
to me. I could not understand about
tho gas and fixtures. I had never seen a
frescoed ceiling. Speaking tubes and
electric bells were novelties. On the
other hand, I proved that I had a good
common school education. I could re-
late the history of the country as I must
have learned it from a book, and I could.
mune all the presidents up to the one
then in power, but the minute they asked
ins a question relating to anything back
of the day I woke up in the hospital I
was utterly befogged.
fy good friend published advertise-
ments in 50 different newspapers, but the
results were disappointing. He received
hundreds of letters, and first and last at
least 100 people came to see me. Some
came from idle curiosity. while others
were in search of lost boys and hoped to
identify me. As a matter of fact, I was
identified eight or ten times, but there
was always a screw loose somewhere.
They would refer to some particular
mark or scar and then fail to find it.
Among those who came was a woman
who kept a highway tavern a few miles
south of Lancaster. I felt sure I had
seen her face before, but could not re-
member when or where. Her voice gave
me a thrill, and for a minute it seemed
as if memory was coming back. This
woman said I had come along the high-
way from Harrisburg and stopped at her
inn over night. I was on foot and had
my clothing in a satchel. She had sus-
pected me of being a runaway and had
asked many questions. I had told her
that I was going to Philadelphia, but had
not told her where I came from. She
kept a register, but for some reason Ihad
not pct down my name. She thought -
must have been walking for several days,
as my feet were blistered, and she gave
me some salve to use. She said I talked
a great deal about ships, leading her to
believe I intended to go to sea. I have
always fait sure this woman properly
identified me, but her story only proved
the theory of the police—that I was a
stranger in Philadelphia.
41(1F' .,
"WHY, BANNER, WE REMEMBER."
At the end of 18 months my guardian
died. When I tell you I had been quite
content with the situation, you will think
it curious. I could get up no interest in
the past. In one sense there was no past.
When they told me the year was 1868, I
took it as a starting point. When they
said I had parents and friends and home
somewhere, it was like talking of some-
thing that had happened thousands of
miles away. By the advice of friends 1
set out to establish my identity. I can't
say that I felt much interest in the mat-
ter. I had a name. Why search for an-
other? I purchased a horse and took the
highway for Lancaster. The road was
totally strange to me. When I reached
the inn kept by the woman, there was a
dim feeling that I had seen the place be-
fore. Her looks and words called up a
something, but I could not work it out.
She was very anxious to aid me, and aft•
er a little talk she said:
"You had a room on the second floor.
See if you cannot go up and identify it."
I walked up stairs, turned to the left,
walked down the hall four doors and en-
tered at the fifth. The room did not look
familiar, but she declared it was the one
I occupied that night. She then asked
me to enter the dining room and see if I
could recall my place at the table. I had
occupied the same place at supper and
breakfast: I went straight to the foot of
the long table, and she said I was right.
Taking the inn as a point of departure,
so to speak, I went on to Lancaster and
Harrisburg. I caloulated that I must
have walked from 25 to 80 miles that
day. Just out of Harrisburg I found
where a boy had put up one night about
20 months before. They remembered the
incident fox several reasons. Before go-
ing to bed he told about seeing a dead
horse on the highway. The horse be-
longed to the landlord. A drunken man
set the hotel barn on fire, and the boy
was the first to see it. ' They had heard
of the boy in Philadelphia and believed
him to be the same, but had never writ-
ten. I had grown older and stouter, and
they could not igentify me, but I have
nodoubt that It d t
apps here. 'I had
probably come through. Harrisburg, but
from what direction? Irode north, east
and west for adistance of 50 miles and
return. Thirty miles up the river I stop-
ped at a farmhouse over night. As soon
as I told my story the farmer laughed
and exclaimed to his wife:
"Why, Hamner, we remember that bey
as plain as day! He stopped hero for
dinner, and our dog drove hila up a cher-
ry tree in the yard, and he hollered likes
good feller. Yes, we thought he was a
runaway, but we didn't ask no questions
about it."
I had come from the north then, but I
followed the road clear to Williamsport
and failed to strike another clew. I.
alight have come down the Susquehanna
a long distance by boat or raft or have
come into the river road from some of
the lateral highways. I continued the
search for a year. In, that time I rode
several thousand miles on horseback in
northern Pennsylvania and New York.
I had the help of at least 100 newspapers,
and peddlers and agents traveling over
the country distributed my circulars,
but nothing came of it. Plenty of the-
ories were advanced, but they were only
theories. Some folks contended that my
people lived on a farm up in the moun-
tains of Pennsylvania and did not read
the papers, but all farming implements
were new and strange to me. Some said
I ran away from home and others that I
had my parents' consent to go. Some
contended that my parents had been
killed by accident or taken away by
death and others that they were glad to
get rid of me. Perhaps the chief of po-
lice of Philadelphia was nearer right
than any of them when he said:
"I think .here's property back of it
somewhere. I think you were an orphan
with a guardian, and perhaps he put you
up to leave home for his benefit. If you
had parents or brothers or sisters, they
would have been heard from ere this."
I gave up all hope years ago. I am
myself, and yet I am some one else. I
am two beings, with two names and two
identities. In a legal sense I am nobody.
I could not prove that the boy who
started for Philadelphia from somewhere
ever had au existence.
RUN INTO MATRIMONY.
A Young. Man Wooed, Won and Wed Be-
fore lie Knew It.
A slim built young man in clothes of a
belligerent cut walked timidly into the
marriage license office yesterday. He was
followed closely by a resolute looking young
woman in holiday attire.
The young man glanced around -suspi-
ciously for an instant and then reacihecl for
the clerk's ear. His companion assumed
an air of unostentatious preoccupation,
turned her back and gazed far away at a
corner of the ceiling, but she was careful to
keep between her companion and the door.
"Ssh," hissed the young fellow, bending
far over the counter in his effort to prevent
his companion overhearing anything. "Ssh,
say, can't we cluck out of sight somewhere?
Ssh, don't shout!"
The clerk shook his head.
The stranger continued his cautious
whisper. "Say," he said, "ssh, I'm in a
hole, see? It's agin me to hitch to that she
demon, see? How can I jump the game,
eh?"
The clerk shook his head. "There are
courts all about here," he suggested, "try
'em."
The stranger bent closer.
"Say," he continued, with an apprehen-
sive glance at the back of his companion,
"she'll land me dead to rights if you don't
give me a lift. She swore to give me a
divorce after we're hitched, but what good
'11 that do, eh?" he concluded mournfully.
The clerk remained silent:
"Say," went on. the visitor in pleading
tones, Trow her out, and Pll fix it with
you. Run her in; do anything; anything
goes."
The clerk shookhis head.
'Say," suddenly exclaimed the woman,
wheeling about resolutely, "what game er
you putts' up on me now? Scratch out
that license lively."
"This here man's been keeping company
with me for two years, an he's got to do
some lively marryin now, an don't you
forget it. Scratch along lively! His
name's Westmure—Monroe L. Westmure—
an he lives at 260 Jessie street, an he's 26
years old, 'n my name's Cora—C-o-r-a,
Cora—Gale."
Monroe started. "Bust me if I ever
knew that before!"
"You'll learn lots when you've married
me," was the answer, given with calm su-
periority.
'N sometimes they call him West, 'n
sometimes they call him Tommy White.
Put 'em all in if you want to and charge
the bill to his nibs here."
The clerk made out his bill, and "his
nibs" paid it with a sigh.
"'N now start us for the nearest justice,
an we'll get nearer marriage 'n this fellow's
been since be was born."
They were started, and 10 minutes later
they emerged a happy, beaming bride and
a woeful, disconsolate groom.—San Fran-
cisco Examiner.
A Bridesmaid's Complaint.
A "seasoned bridesmaid" makes bitter
complaint of the behavior of engaged girls.
It is an old grievance of the =engaged,
but has rarely been set forth in such mi-
nuteness of detail. The engaged ring finger
plays a considerable part in this remon-
strance. It is always being flaunted in the
face of the =engaged. If you tell the en-
gaged person that she has a hairpin stick-
ing out, up goes that finger to push it in.
Every office that can possibly be dono with
one digit is sure to be done with the ob-
trusive engaged finger. Sometimes the en-
gaged girl will drop in for a chat, but it
is generally when her friend is tired and
sleepy, and the chat is always about "hien,"
and how he proposed, and how delightful
it is to think that he has never eared for
any other girl before, and how charming-
and sweet "his people" are. This remon-
strant, who has been bridesmaid more than
the fatal number of times, is beginning to
sigh for a place where there will be no
marriages or giving in marriage."—London
Woman
SORE ODD STORIES.
INTERESTING TALES OF ADVENTURE
ON LAND
AND SEA.
An Uninvited Guest—$ow a Straw Broke
a Bond of Friendship—An Audacious
Person—A Good Lawyer and a Good
Singer.
toopyright, 1893, by American Press Associa-
tion.)
Howard Stanton is a good fellow and a
good singer to boot. Although a member
of the bar in Philadelphia, he gives a good
deal of time to music, and at the date of
which I write he was a favorite tenor of
Lambertini, the famous Italian teacher.
Among the people whom Howard Stan-
ton met at Lambertini'swas Mr, Paxson, a
wellto do merchant with whom he had
had some professional business a short time
before. Mr. Paxson does not recognize
young Stanton now, and this is how it came
about.
At the meeting just mentioned Mr. Pax-
son greeted the lawyer warmly and said:
"I'm so glad, Mr. Stanton, to know that
you are going to keep on cultivating your
voice. I've heard it is very fine, and I
envy you. Two of my children, the girls,
are coming here. Bytheway, we are going
to have some good music and refreshments
afterward at my house tomorrow night.
Here is my private address. Can I count
on your coming?"
"LET Et/BMW' OCT."
Howard had heard of the oldest daugh-
ter's beauty, and heknew of the father's
wealth; so, not : being entirely unworldly,
he said, "Yes, with pleasure."
The next night when the young lawyer
was ready to go he found that it was rain-
ing like "cats and dogs," whatever that
common figure of speech may mean, and to
add to his annoyance he could not find Mr.
Paxson's card, so he concluded that he had
left it at the office. He remembered, how-
ever,
owever, that the house was on Green street not
far from the entrance to Fairmount park,
and he had no doubt but he could find it. .
He made his way out on a street car and
was looking about where he thought the
house ought to be when the sound of mu-
sic
usic came to his ears, and he saw that a neigh-
boring house was lit up.
"Ab," he said aloud, "this is the place.
I'm in luck."
As he went up the steps he concluded
that the singing was not all it should be.
There was need of a tenor voice, and he
felt elated at the thought that he was just
the man to fill the deficiency in the bill.
He rang the bell, and a neatly dressed
colored man opened the door.
"Mrs. Paxson?" said Howard from the
outside.
"Yes, sah. Walk right in, sah," said the
servant.
The colored man took Howard's coat,
overshoes and umbrella, and as he did so
he whispered:
"Bad night, sah. If you just step back
to dedinin room, you'll find wine and crack-
ers."
Howard did step back, took a glass of
sherry and a cracker, and having warmed
himself by an open fire he went to the
drawing room.
His name was announced, and a pleasant
faced, matronly lady met him at the door,
and in response to his salutation said some-
thing he could not understand'.
As Howard advanced a jolly lookingman
who had been conducting pounced on him
and called out, "What part do you take?"
"Tenor," was the reply.
"Capital! That's just what we want,"
and in an instant the last visitor had joined
the group about the piano. Howard want-
ed to pay his respects to Mr. Paxson, but
he comforted himself with the knowledge
that he could do so later on.
Howard Stanton sang well at all times,
but never so well as tonight. He saw that
a half score of beautiful girls were watch-
ing
atching him, and, to use his own words, he "let
himself out."
Having exhausted the programme ar-
ranged for the evening, Howard sang a
song written and composed by himself, and
the eyes of the pretty girls beamed on him
more sweetly than ever.
After this the lady who had met him
brought up the prettiest of all the girls and
introduced her as her daughter. Howard
could not catch the name, but as it ended •
in "son" he knew it was all right.
He escorted this young lady to supper.
He was in such a seventh heaven of delight
that he wholly forgot to hunt up Mr. Pax-
son, his host.
Miss Kate, though still in her teens, had
the easy grace of one accustomed to society,
and she soon showed that she had a taste
as well as a love for music.
Taking it for granted that the young
man knew all about what she called "our
own musical set," Miss Kate rattled on in
a way that would have been charming had
it not begun to dawn slowly and painfully
on Howard's mind that be had blundered
into the wrong house, If he had any doubts
on this point, they were set at rest when
the young lady said:
"Mamma is a recognized leader of music
in this part of the city. Strange that she
did not mention you to me when she was
making out her list. But, I recall, a great
many were proposed and rejected. By the
way, did you hear that there is a lady on
this street who, jealous of mamma's suc-
cess, has started a musical circle of her
own?"
"No," said Howard, suppressing a. cold
shiver. "I was not aware of that fact. May
I ask the name of this audacious person?"
"Mrs. Paxson, wife of the rich wool mer-
chant. Her daughters and '1 were school-
mates, and they are very nice, bright girls.
Ever meet them?"
' "I must confess 1 never have."
"Agnes, the elder, is engaged to a man'
twice her age. Don't think'she loves him;
but, then, he's rich and that counts for
much. Oh„I forgot to ask 'you how you
liked my father's conducting this evening”
"Excellently," stammered Howard, and
he was now sure he had put his foot in it.
"He does very well, but being a doctor
with it large practice he cannot of course
give as much time to practice as he wants.
flute'now that• you have calledyou will
learn to like him better." Ali so the
,pretty girl rattled on.
Howard tried to explain his position to
Mrs, Tyson, but he found her surrounded
by friends about to take their leave. Then
he sought out Dr. Tyson, and drawing him
out of the hearing of others he told of his
mistake.
The doctor laughed heartily, shook the
young man's hand and said:
"Ob, I know of you very well. I am glad
you made the mistake, Mr. Stanton, and as
we have these meetings every Wednesday
night we'll be delighted if you become one
of us."
Howard Stanton readily agreed to this
and thereafter was a steady visitor at Dr.
Tyson's.
Howard wrote an excuse` to Mr. Paxson,
and he might have been forgiven had he
not persisted in 'visiting the house where he
first appeared as an uninvited guest.
The straw that broke the bond of friend-
ship between the two fell with the news
that told Mr. Paxson that the young law
• per had married Dr. Tyson's daughter.
Too Much Curiosity.
Human nature, particularly in its worst
features, is pretty much the same the world
ever. This is well illustrated by a curious
criminal case that was brought to light
last year in Turkey, not far from Constan-
tinople.
During a festival of the Mohammedans a
well to do merchant named Funduckii
dressed his child, a boy of 3, in his finest
costume, which included a silk velvet cap
ornamented with a number of gold coins.
The child was always in charge of a faith-
ful slave, an old negro woman, who had
been his attendant since his birth.
The woman, being called into the'house
on some business, left the child seated in
the open court, which in Turkey, as in
southern Spain, is peculiar to the better
class of residences. On the return of the
nurse the child was gone, and although an
immediate search was instituted no trace
of the little fellow was found.
In bis sore straits the heartbroken father
applied for help to the scraskier, or military
commander, of the district.
The officer on reflection came to the con-
clusion that
onclusionthat the child, on account of its
cries, could not have been taken far, and
that some of the neighbors were responsi-
ble for the abduction. . a
Without communicating his suspicions
to any one the officer directed a member
of his staff to enter the neighboring mosque
that evening at the hour of prayer and in a
voice that the worshipers could, hear to
summon the iman, or priest, to come im-
mediately to the military palace.
Though a very unusual proceeding, the
priest obeyed. When he came into the sol-
dier's presence, he received this order and
wasmore puzzled than ever:
"Come back here in the morning and
have for me the name of the person who
first came to ask you why I had sent for
you."
The Turks are, as a rule, as wanting in
curiosity as the North American Indians.
Consequently on returning to the mosque
only oue man came to the priest to ask the
reason for such an extraordinary summons.
The priest gave an oracular reply and re,
ported the circumstance to the officer so
commanded.
With the promptness of a man now sure
of his ground, the scraskier sent soldiers to.
arrest the inquisitive man. He was brought
into the commander's presence and charged
with the murder of the child. Stoutly and
swearing by the holy name of the prophet,
the accused denied his guilt.
• Meanwhile other soldiers who had been
making a search of the man's house put in
an appearance, having with them the body
of the murdered child that bad been found
buried under the stairs in the house of the
man who on their return was swearing tt
his own innocence.
It is only in Turkey, where legal methods
are arbitrary, that detection could have
come so quickly, and it is only in such
lands that the penalty follows close on the
heels of the crime.
Within one hour the culprit was tried,
sentenced and drowned in the waters of the
sea of Marmora.
A Modern Miracle.
Perhaps there is not a country clergyman
in all the United States who does not shud-
der when his parishioners hint to him that
they are going to give him "a donation
party." If the preacher receives this news
with Christian resignation, itis sure to up-
set his wife and throw her into wild hys-
terics, for she knows that she is expected
to set out a good supper in exchange for
the wilted cabbages, stony apples and frozen
turnips dumped into her kitchen by way of
donations.
I was inclined to think that thiosort of
Christian philanthropy was confined en-
tirely to this side of the Atlantic, but a let,
ter recently received from France gives me
the comforting assurance that we are not
peculiar in our clerical donations. ,
Father Pierot, a parish priest, lives near
Bergarao in France. He is an Ideal cure
and is much beloved for his pure life and
generous deeds, not only by his own people,
but by all who knew him.
It chanced last year, at the time of an un-
usually fine vintage, one of Father Pierot's
congregation, in order to show his regard
for the priest, suggested to the winemakers
roundabout that they secure a new barrel,
place it in the cure's cellar, and that it
should be filled by each one's pouring into
it a gallon of wine as a gratuity.
The suggestion was promptly acted on,
and the barrel was filled.
After the wine harvest was over, the
priest, to show his appreciation of the peo-
ple's kindness, invited them to supper at
his house, and, like the professional Amer-
ican
merican donator, they accepted at once.
When all were seated, Father Pierot said:
"My friends, I am sure you are all as
anxious as I am to know what the result
will be of blending so many different kinds
of wines together. If the result is as good
as the motive that prompted your gracious
conduct, the wine should be something
measurably fine. Jacques (turning to the
servant), go down to the cellar and bring
ap a large pitcher of that wine."
The servant did as he was commanded,
and soon returning with the vessel in both
hands and a puzzled smile on his face he
began filling the glasses.
The fluid looked like water, and it did
not require a searching analysis to prove
that :it was water. Expecting that every
one else would bring wine; and that his own
gallon of water would not be detected
among the lot, each one of those generous
and pious parishioners, including the man
who had started the idea, had brought
water, and there was not a drop of wine in
the vessel.
The people looked sheepishly at each
other across the board, Mit the good cure
rose equal to the occasion. "My friends,"
he said, "we read in the sacred writings
that at Cana of Galilee the Master turned
water into wine. That was an ancient mira-
cle. But it has been,; reserved for the good
Christians of modern times to do some-
thing quite as wonderful, and that is to
turn wine into water:"
ALFRED R. CALHOUN.
A CHEAP BUILDING
That Can be Made by Any Farmer With a
Few Tools.
Although balloon frarpe buildings.
have long been accepted as abundantly
strong and durable, the farmer has rarely
anted on the suggestions their construe.
tion offers for building with his own
hands small sheds, etc., quickly and at
slight cost Frequently a small addition
to a hay hay just before haying is desired
but deferred because the only carpenter
in the place is not ab liberty. An exten-
sloe for animals would often be built if
the owner could do 11 without. expense
I for extra' help. But just how to go to
work is the question. The • thought of
getting out a frame is a bugbear to
most men not carpenters.
Now the plan of building which com
mends itself in the engraving requires
no framing,
With eight -inch posts 3 feet long,
noithd' and hewed : id
of cut thupperewoo• 18
s:,inches, andon two-inanesche
plank, the owner can erect a shed, lean.,
to or extension as , quickly and substan-
,
tially as any carpenter with the old
morticed frame or modern mitred one.
The posts must be set 4 feet apart and
2 feet in the earth. if the spot chosen is
not well drained, the holes should be
dug below frost level and filled to within
two feet of the surface with rock bould-
ers on which to stand the posts. The
uprights for all sides (for no corner posts
of weight are required) are spiked to the
flatted outer sides of these short pieces
set in the earth. Inside of the uprights,
resting on the heads of the post:, another
plank is spiked, both down and to the
standards. The joists and plates are also
spiked inside the uprights in the same
manner as the sill -pieces,
Covered with novelty siding, such a
building is as near and well braced as
one can desire. If vertical siding is to
be used, the uprights are stood upon the
rosts,'where they are held in plane by
spikes, and the sill -pieces put on the
outside. The • joists and plates, in this
case, have to be placed outside the up-
rights, for, with the sill -pieces, they re-
eeive the vertical siding. If flooring be
used, it may be laid on timbers placed
on the portion of the postheads still un-
covered,
Pepper for Bens.
A lady who is very successful with
poultry writes to the Ain erican Cultiva-
tor that in the effort to make hens lay:
and chickens grow, many poultry keepers
have a habit of feeding red pepper, gin-
ger and prepared stimulants with every
mess of ground feed or vegetables. When
the birds show an increased appetite
and greater apparent vigor the stimulant
is given in still greater quantities, on
the principle that if a little will do good,
more of the same will do greater good. '
The result in such cases is that when the
birds are allowed abundance of fatten -
Ing food they become ovcrfat and are
liable to drop dead suddenly from
apoplexy. If hens, they lay on fat, but do
pox lay eggs.,. If, instead of fattening
food, they have egg -snaking material
supplied, they ]ay freely for awhile and
then break down with disease of the ovi-
duct or become paralyzed in their limbs.
In nearly all instances digestion is im-
paired, and the final result is loss rather
thane gain. A little salt, a little pepper,
or some other condiment may sharpen
the appetite and temporarily invigorate
a bird, and thus far may be useful.
But, after all, the best tonic is whole-
some food. In their natural condition
fowls get the slight stimulant they need
in the aromatic seeds and berries they
pick up on their foraging grounds,so
that tonics are not to be wholly eschewed.'.
The chinks grow and the hen lays only
when they have the elements required to
make bone, muscle and eggs, and these
are found only in nourishing food, and
not in condiments.
Live Stock Notes.
Turpentine is considered agoodrenledy
for lung worms in sheep,
A comfortable house for the ducks is
one of the first things to be provided to
insure successful raising.
Portions of the West have been afflicted
with what has been termed the corn stalk
disease, cattle dying after having been
turned upon corn fields after the corn is
husked,
• Nothing short of experience will teach
most dairymen the absolute necessity of
caring properly and promptly . for .the
young members of their herds, which
are soon to take the plane of older ones
or add materially to their number and
possibly to•their producing value.
Breeding gives the profit, as is shown
in cattle for beef. A Galloway and short -
born steer, recently raised in Scotland,
at two years and eleven months old
weighed 2,016 pounds on the hoof.. He
was raised on pasture (no grain) with
turnips and straw in winter. "The weight
could have been increased by high feed-
ing. At present prices of beef in this
country the steer would have sold for $75
or perhaps more, according to quality.
The Guernseys come from. the smaller
island of the same name, about twenty
miles from Jersey. The cattle are of the
same origin. They are larger, averaging
perhaps 950 pounds, more angular, with
a stronger appearance. Less attention
has been given to color in their breed-
ing. White markings are common; yel-
lowish fawn is a oommon oolor. The
cows give milk In about equal quantity
and of equal richness with that of the
Jersey, the butter having a somewhat
higher color. The writer believes it
would have been a gain if American
breeders had classed the two breeds as
one.
E'lilets of Fowls.
Take two young chickens; two table-
spoonfuls of flour,' one glassfnl'of milk,
some bread'crginbs and butter; take the
fillets and legs off; out the Allots in two
pieces and the logs in three. Dip them
in milk, roll them in flour or bread
crumbs and fry in butter. •