The Exeter Advocate, 1897-4-29, Page 6TO A BOY POET OF THE DECADENCE.
But, my goad little man, you have made a mis-
take
12 you really are pleased to suppose
That the Thames is alight with the lyrics you
make.
We could all do the same if we chose.
From Solomon down, we may read, as we run,
Of the ways of a xnan and a maid.
There is nothing that's new to us under the !
sun,
And certainly not in the shade.
Tho erotic affairs that you fiddle aloud
Are as vulgar as euin of the mint,
And you merely distinguish yourself from the
crowd
By the fact that you put 'em in print.
You're a 'prentxee, my boy, in the primitive
stage,
And you itch, like a boy, to confess.
When you know a bit more of the arts of the .
age,
You will probably talk a bit less.
For your dull little vices we don't care a fig.
it is this that tivelly deplore--
Yon
eplore -Yon were cast fur a " oamun or usual pig,
But you play the invincible bore.
—Omen Sramsn in New York Tribune.
MAE'S S A CR IFICE.
banks of the swollen stream searohing
vainly for some .point where they might
oreas.
"No use," said Paul at last. "We could
not even swhu across without almost
certainly losing our lives. No, we must
simply make the best of a bad matter, Miss
Lisbon, and put up with our unpleasant
situation as philosophically as we can."
Then thoughtfully a moment after; "Can't
we find a shelter of some kind, do you
think? It will kill you to be exposed to
this chilling storm all night,"
"All night!" Mae echoed in a low, tense
whisper. Yet not so low but that Beres-
ford caught it, as well as the little gasp-
ing break in the breath that uttered it.
"There is an empty minor's cabin not
very far from here," she said very quietly
aloud. "If I had not been so foolish as to
linger to explore it, I should have not been
caught in this awkward dilemma."
"Let us go there, then," he answered
gently. "It will be some slight protection
for you at least, and as for me"—
His low voice died into silence, and. in
silence they went on until the, little,
empty. desolate cabin was reached.
Fortunately Paul had some matches in
his pocket, and equally so Mae remembered
having seen a quantity of pine fagots scat-
tered about the hut. So it was but a few
minutes until a bright fire was blazing
upon the neglected hearth, and the un-
canny darkness fied before its cheery light.
Having thus made her as comfortable as
he could, Paul rose to his feet and hastily
began buttoning his coat oloso about his
chic.
For an instant Mae watched him in-
tently,
n-tently, a strange softness veiling the luster
of her hazel eyes. Then:
"No, Mr. Beresford," she said, with
gentle firmness, laying one little band --a
touch as light as a failing snowflake—on
his sleeve, "you must not—shall not—go
outside and spend all this long, dreary
night in the pitiless storm. 'You have as.
muck tight as I to the shelter of this root
and the comfort of this cheerful fire. Do
not leave them and go out into the storm
unless you wish to make Inc more unhappy
than I axn."
Ile turned and looked curiously at her
for a good half minute.
Then, seeing in her clear, honest, hazel
eyes that she meant just what she said, he
answered simply:
"Then I will stay here, Miss Lisbon."
And throwing himself down upon the
opposite side of the glowing hearth, the
two talked or fell into troubled silence as
their moods inclined them.
The morning sun was bringing out all
the golden glints in Mae's pretty chestnut
Bair by the time they found it possible to
cross the treacherous gulch.
As they rode homeward both were
strangely silent, and Paul's face was white
and tense with the fierconess of some in-
ward struggle,
After a little he turned to her abruptly
and said in husky tones:
"Miss Lisbon, after last night's adven-
ture I suppose you know that there is
only one course for us to take. You un-
derstand me, do you not?"
"I think I do, Mr. Beresford," she an-
swered after a brief silence in accents loud-
er than a whisper.
"Then"—more hoarsely still—"I ask
you to become my wife at once. We can
ride to the Rev, Mr, Martin's and have
the ceremony performed before we go
home at all, and then no ono dare say a
word against your name."
If he had only been looking at her then,
he must have pitied her.
That finely chiseled, strong, yet dein-
tily lovely face of hers crimsoned painfully
at first, then grew white as the purest
snow, and she trembled so violently that
she seemed in danger of failing to the
ground,
But she soon rallied, and then her low,
clear, silvery voice startled him from his
painful reveries.
"Your proposal is a generous one, Mr.
Beresford," it said, with a sweet, touch-
ing little waver in its accents—"it is man-
ly, noble—and it is like yourself. But,
with a full understanding of all that it im-
plies, I cannot accept it."
He turned, with a look of amazement
in his dark, despairing eyes.
"Miss Lisbon—Mae," be ejaculated,
"do you know what you are saying? Do
you realize the peril to your pure reputa-
tion from the vile harpies who will be only
too ready to attack it? My God, have you
counted the cost"—
"1 have," she answered, turning to him
at last, with a brave, sweet smile on bee
lovely face. "I was doing that all through
the long, dragging hours of last night. I
know that your love is given elsewhere,
Paul Beresford, and I will not permit you
to wreck the happiness of your own life
and—another's—simply that you may thus
shield the honor of mine. Let those talk
who will"—lifting her bright head with a
gesture of infinite pride. "My character is
as stainless as it ever was, and I do not
need a forced marriage to maintain its
purity."
"God bless you, Miss Lisbon," bo mur-
mured, leaning over to clasp and kiss the
pretty band which rested lightly on her
horse's neck. "If ever you need a defend-
er, I am ready to serve you to the last
throb of a loyal, grateful heart!"
Of course the story of Mae's terrible ad-
vensure was already broadcast tbroughoue
the social world. And, though Paul Beres-
ford did not let any one remain in igno-
rance of Mae's refusal to marry him, nor,
indeed, of any other fact in regard to her
purity and heroism, still there was plenty
of malicious slander, and poor Mae often
felt most keenly the bitterness of her po-
sition.
But what was Paul Beresford's surprise
and disgust when one day ho found that
Elise Turley, the woman he had loved,
was among the persecutors of the girl who
had sacrificed so much for her and him.
And one day he electrified Mae Lisbon
by saying to her bluntly:
"Mae, I ask you again to be my wife,
and I ask you now because I love and
honor you above all other women on this
earth. Don't refuse me, darling, after
stealing my heart away in that lonely hill-
side cabin where I bad no chance against
the witchery of those lovely, hazel eyes."
—Dublin World.
If any shadow of unhappiness or jeal-
ousy spoiled the brightness of Mau Lisbon's
lift, not one of the gay group of which she
was a remit:er sec rued to know it, for she
was not a girl to "wear her heart upon
her sleeve."
And yet, among all that merry party
just setting out for a prolonged horseback
ride among the surrounding steep, moue-
taiuuuslike hills, un that beautiful autumn
afternoon, there was not another heart so
crushed and hopeless and despairing as
that which beat unties pretty Mae Lisbon's 3
dark blue riding habit.
But she laughed brightly as she reined
her prancing horse to one side to make
room for Paul Beresford to pass with Miss
Elis Turley, whom he had just assisted
to her saddle with an air of tender emo-
tion
that wrung Mac's very heartstrings. III
"I'm expecting csery day to bear their
engagement announced," said Joe St.
Giles, Mae's escort, with a significant
glance and smile toward the handsome
pair. "It's a clear case of mutual fasoina-
tion. Don't you think so, Miss Lisbon?''
"It does lock that way," she returned
quietly.
So they rode on, talking, laughing, jest-
ing, sometimes the whole party keeping
together for awhile, the scattering in cou-
ples to explore the picturesque scenery of
the valleys or the winding roads that went
twisting boldly, and sometimes danger-
ously, around the rugged hillside slopes
Gay as Mae Lisl,uu's briglit face and
sweet, ringing lughter declared her to be,
her heart was heavy with its weight of
woe, and she stole away from the others
for a time that she might lay aside the
mask of happiness which, while in their
presence, pride compelled her to wear.
After riding along fur awhile she came
to a sort of gulch or dry creek bed, deop
and narrow, which she unhesitatingly
made her horse leap over, for Mae was a
fine and fearless equestrienne.
Going some distance farther, she dis•
mounted, and throwing the reins over her
arm, went on to explore a deserted mining
cabin which nestled ph•turesquely among
some rocks a little vvny l,eyond.
Here she at down, and before she knew
it, was lost in the labyrinth of her own
intensely painful thoughts.
She knew that St. Giles' words were
true, though they bad been spoken half in
jest, and that it could not be long ere an
engagement between Paul Beresford and
Elise Turley would I. formally announced.
And how she, Mae, loved him!
But, thank heaven, be had never guessed
it, and now he never would.
She would cheerfully have given years
of her life to be lased by him. But be had
passed both her love and her loveliness
by with unseeing eyes to lay bis hears at
the feet of that fair, dazzling blond beauty
who would soon be his bride.
"What a grim old sphinx fate isi" she
arced out at last, a half sob in her break-
ing voice. "I would die for his love. Yet
all I can do is to hide the truth from him,
to keep it from speaking in my eyes and
sobbing . in my voice when I come near
him, while another woman holds tbat
precious love of his in the hollow of her
dainty hand without an effort, and will
doubtless pass her whole life at his side
'without even knowing er hall appreciat-
ing the priceless blessing that it is. Oh,.
if some"—
She stopped abruptly, shocked, horri-
fied, by a terrific cr.sh of thunder which
seemed to rend the very rocks apart.
"Heavens, how foolish I have been not
to notice this before." she exclaimed, her
pretty uplifted face paling with consterna-
tion. "But such a lovely day as it was
when we started. Who could have dreamed
of such a change as this' What will they
think has become of me, I wonder? Oh, I
must burry er I shall miss them all, and
have to find my way alone through this
blinding storm. I wonder if St. Giles is
alarmed about me"—alittle smile, despite
the grave situation, flickering around her
charming lips—"no, I think not, as be
knows what a reckless rider I often am."
All this time she was leading her horse
down the uneven slope to the road below,
where she mounted and went flying, as
swiftly as the stain would allow, in the
direction whence she had come.
Reaching the n..rruw gulch, however,
which such a short time before she had
crossed so easily, Mae found it now a rush-
ing torrent, trop, which her horse drew
back with quivering nostrils and unwill-
ing feet.
"Good gracious! What am I going to
do?" she thoughtimpatiently. "Oh, here
is my bugle. Perhaps I can at least let
some of there know my whereabouts."
And lifting the little silver bugle, which
she carried to her lips, she blew one long,
shrill, clear blast, then paused, listening
intently for some response.
Tt oame sooner than she expected.
"there was an answering call, and a mo-
ment later Paul Beresford caine into view
around a little promontory a hundred
yards away.
Mae drew back as he approached, too
amazed to utter a sound.
"Why, Miss Lisbon 1" be cried, coming
up to her. "Good heavens, are you lost
too? I—I somehow got separated from
bliss Turley after crossing this creek to
$nd.someparticular specimens of autumn
Sowers for her, and now it seems out of
the question to recross it. I never saw
anything like this before," he added
lloomily,.his handsome face clouded with
the most perxplexed anxiety.
"Oh, we must morose it! We must get
back to our party, Mr. Beresford l" ex-
claimed Mae as a sudden realization of
their position flashed upon her. "Surely
we can find some point where our horses
can make the leap. Come, let us hasten!
Every moment makes it worse!"
Paul shook his head with a Impala!'
smile. Still he obeyed her, and almost
,frantically they rode up and down the
Mankind's Dream of Civilization.
Is there to be, as in the ancient case, a
world empire, not perhaps of centralized
and despotic rule, but one so mighty and
Widespread, so powerful on every continent,
do free 't 1thin and so just and generous
without that it shall stand at the head of
the world without a rival, to keep peace un-
broken, to teach the most powerfulnations
laws and institutions, to guide the mere
backward along the way of right growth,
and to prepare the realization of mankind's
long dream?—George Burton Adams In
Atlantic.
THE SLOTH
•
Thou most absurd of all absurdities,
Thou living irony of nature's law,
No-e'onder that in thee old Cuvier saw
Grim signs of humor in an otherwise
Not overwitty god, with ears and eyes
Inverted, and eaoh serviceable paw
Transformed' into a wretched hanging claw,
''hon has turned topsy turvy earth and Skies.
0 "paragon, of aniinals," why jeer
At one who gazes with inverted eye?
The "change of attitude" thou flndost here
Is niy attempt to follow thine, and try
What benefit arises in this sphere
By twisting all one's being toward the sky.
—From the "Poems" of G. T. Ttomanes.
Touching.
"Behold," exclaimed the good fairy, "I
touch thee with my wand and transform
thee from beggar to prince."
Subsequently, however, his beloved
touched bion without any wand and made
him a beggar again —Detroit Journal.
AT THE HINT BALL
"I declare, you're the most punctual girl
Clive, Maggie, and bow sweet you look 1"
Lsdy Carew surveyed bar cousin's figure
approvingly as Mrs. Fawcett's maid put
the last touches to her toilet.
"Ito you really like me?" And Maggie
Fawcett turned slowly round that no item
of her dainty ball gown might be lost..
"My dear, you'll be the success of the
evening, and, oh, what an exquisite bangle
that is I" And with an exclamation of de-
light Lady Carew caught her cousin's
wrist, on which glittered a magnificent
bracelet set with diamonds and emeralds.
"Surely that's new, isn't it? It wasn't a
wedding present, was it?"
Mrs. Fawcett flushed nervously. "No.
You haven't seen it before. I only had 11
yesterday."
"You lucky creature, to got promiscuous
presents like that! Who gave it you?"
The flush on Maggie's cheek deepened.
"Eric, of course," shereplied, with a laugh.
"He spoils mo dreadfully, you know."
Lady Carew's lips quivered into an in.
definable expression.
"My dear," she answered, smiling, "be•
ware of a husband's unprovoked presents."
"What do you mean?" asked Maggie
quickly.
"Only that their source is more often a
guilty conscience than an overflowing at
feotion."
"Laura, why will you say such things}
Come, the carriage is ready."
"So tun I. But isn't Erio coming?"
"Not with us. Be was lunching with
the Delawares and sent over for bis things.
He will go with them, and he goes back
there to sleep."
Tho two women took their places in the
snug brougham. It was a fairly long
drive to Treloar Hall, where the Darshire
hunt ball was to take place, but there was
absolute silence in the carriage, partly
because, as cousins and intimate friends,
there was no necessity for conversation be-
tween its occupants, and also because Mag.
gie Fawcett knew of old that Lady Carew
hated to tiro herself out with talking be-
fore the serious business of the flirting and
waltzing began.
Maggie Fawcett's appearance at the
hunt ball was something of an event. She
was the bride of the occasion. Early in
the spring she had married Eric Fawcett,
and this was the first winter she had spent
on bis estate in Darshire.
Now and again Lady Carew glanced at
her cousin. Maggie leaned back in her
corner, the white fur of her wrap nestling
round her throat, and her small head rest-
ing against the cushions of the carriage. It
struck her companion that the young
wife's face was a little pale, and that it
wore a look of suppressed excitement,
mingled with something which seemed al-
most like anxiety. "What can be the mat-
ter with the girl?" murmured Lady Carew
to herself. "She is evidently disturbed
about something. How she plays with
that bracelet. I wonder—but, no 1 Maggie
is the best little soul alive, and besides
there isn't an eligible man within a dozen
miles. Still, I never should have expected
Eric Fawcett to have turned out a model
husband." And she laughed softly to her-
self.
Laura Carew was a good six years older
than her cousin, and she remembered very
distinctly that at the same ball last year,
before Maggie had flashed upon his firma-
ment, Eric Fawcett bad been her very de-
voted slave, and naturally she smiled at
the recollection—a little pityingly perhaps,
for Lady Carew could not quite under-
stand an admirer deserting her for Mag-
gie, and though she was fond of her cous-
in she was rather sorry for Erio. Women
generally are sorry for the men who marry
some one else.
But in spite of Lady Carew's moderate
estimate of Maggie's powers of attraction
her card was full before she had been in
the room ten minutes—as full, that is, as
she would allow it to be, for she valiantly
resisted all efforts to fill up two spaces
which she insisted on preserving.
She was standing by her husband in the
midst of a group of people. She put her
hand gently on his arm.
"Eric," she whispered, "I've kept you
two waltzes."
"Twoi" and he laughed as he looked
down at her. "Why, little woman, we
can't dance together twice. It would be
ridiculous! Here, I'll take this one. I
don't suppose you'll have any difficulty in
filling in the other. You're looking very
pretty tonight, I must go, dear. This is
my dance with Laura."
Maggie Fawcett bit her lips. She
wouldn't have minded people seeing that
she was in love with her husband and that
she thought hien the handsomest man in
the room. But men were different—very
different—and her heart swelled as a rush
of memories came upon her. She answered
her partner's not very abtruse remarks
mechanically. It was doubtless bad form,
but her eyes sought her husband's figure.
He was waltzing with Laura. It seemed
to her that he was always waltzing with
Laura. But, then, perhaps Eric might be
thinking the same thing of her, for she
had certainly danced a great many times
with this Mr. Dobson—Dodson—she was
not at all sure of his name, and she really
did not Dare at all who was her partner.
The Darshire hunt ball was not amusing,
she thought, and it was a little embarrass-
ing that 80 many people noticed and ad
mired her bangle. She touched it doubt-
fully, twisting it on her arm so that the
diamonds flashed in her eyes. It was very
pretty, but—
"Maggie seems to be putting in a very
good time tonight," observed Lady Carew
as she strolled into the conservatory with
Erio Fawcett. "She appears to be enjoy-
ing herself tremendously."
"Not half as much as I am," replied
Erio, with a laugh. "It is quite like old
times, ian't it?" he added, drawing a low
seat forward for his companion.
"Oh, my dear Eric, don't try to be sen-
timental! But really I begin to think my
warning to Maggie was not uncalled"—
"Eh, what warning?"
"Well, it rather seems to me that the
old Adam is returning, my friend; that
domestic joys are palling, and forbidden
fruit is becoming terribly attractive."
"Is that a challenger'
"Not at all. Besides Maggie 1s my oous-
In and nip friend, and I think it's right to
warn her.,,
"Are you in fun or hi earnest? What do
you mean by warning her?"
Lady Carew broke into a laugh.
"Only that I told her tobeware of a
husband's presents; that a magnificent
diamond and emerald bracelet often meant
more than mot the eye when it was be-
stowed a propos de bottes."
"Really, I haven't the smallest idea of
what you mean!"
"Mean? Why, thelovely bangle you gave
her yesterday 1"
"I gave Maggie a bangle yesterday?"
"Certainly. She is wearing it tonight."
"You xnust bo dreaming,"
Lady Carew looked into her companion's
face with frank astonishment.
"I ant very sorry," she said quietly. "I
am afraid • I have been indiscreet. But
bow was I to guess? Oh, what are you go
ing to do?"
For at that moment Mrs. Fawcett en.
tercel the conservatory on the arm of her
partner, and Erio immediately rose to his
feet. Laura caught his arm.
"Erie, don't bo ridiculous. It Is some
absurd mistake! Pll take that man away.
Speak to Maggie, but for heaven's sake
don't look lilto that!"
But, in spite of Lady Carew's efforts, it
was not so easy to "take that man way,"
and while tho futile, frivolous conversa-
tion rippled on, Tyrie stood by, bewildered
and stunned. Maggie, the soul of truth
and simplicity, had told a lie. There was
not the faintest doubt that Laura had
spoken the truth, and spoken it without
arriere-pensee. The stones of the mysteri.
ous bracelet glittered maliciously before
his eyes, and yet, had not his attention
been drawn to it, most probably he would
not have noticed it. The details of any
other woman's dress were always more
obvious to Eric than those of his wife's,
and .Maggie might have presumed on that,
But Maggie! He was very much in low
with her when bo married her, but be was
uncomfortably conscious that ho bad paid
very little attention to her of late. But
then, Maggie—who would have dreamed—
At last the music struck up and Lady
Carew led off the intruder, having suo-
seeded in persuading him that Ms caloula-
t}ons were out and that it was precisely
this dance she had given him.
Maggio rose too, but her husband laid
his hand on her arta.
"No. Stay here. I want to speak to
you."
"But"—
"I can't help engagements or anything
else. 1 must speak to you now."
"What is it?" asked Maggie, looking tit
at him. "Why, Eric, what is the matter?"
"I wish to know who gave you this ban-
gle."
The color flew over Maggie's throat and
face, and her lips trembled.
"I—I can't tell you."
"So I suppose, or you wouldn't have
lied to Laura Carew about it."
"Eric!"
There was something so pathetic about
the girl's expression as his name burst
from her lips—she looked so childish, so
helpless, and so miserable—that the anger
in Erie's heart died suddenly. A wbole
world of thoughts surged up in his mind,
'Why had he left this child so lonely? The
fault was his. "Maggie, dear," he said
gently, "I know I've not been as I ought
to the best little wife in the world. I've
set you a bad example, and you are se
young you don't understand things. You
don't know what men are. You've been
a little foolish perhaps. But that's all,
I'm sure—do you hear, dear—I'm quite
sure of that. But you must toll me the
story of that bangle."
"T— Oh, Eric, I'm ashamed I" and she
turned her face away.
"Tell me, dear."
There was a moment's pause.
"Well, then, I bought it myself."
"Maggie!"
"Yes. Oh, don't think I want to blame
you, Erie, but the other women I know
were always having presents from their
husbands—flowers and sweets and trinkets
—and so as you—as you did not think of
them, I bought them myself and said you'd
given them to me"—
Erie held her at arm's length. She
raised her face suddenly and looked at
him.
"I wanted people to think you spoiled
nae; that you were in love with me still."
• • • • • M •
Erie Fawcett did not return to the Dela-
wares, and a couple of days later the dia-
mond and emerald bangle had a compan-
ion, which was clasped on Maggie's arm
by her husband himself.—London World.
Northumbrian and Scoth Rustics.
The Northumbrian peasant is not at all
Scotch. On the contrary, the ancient ani-
mosities between England and Scotland
were keenest on the borders, and are still
alive there. .As soon as you cross the
Tweed the difference becomes apparent.
First there i° the dialect. To a Londoner
it is all Scotch, and there's an end of the
matter. But there are several important
points of difference. You find one exem-
plified in words such as home, stone, one,
etc. The Scot says hame, steno, ane, but
the Northumbrian h'y'm, st'y'n, yin—I
fear only those who have beard it will be
able to give that "y" its proper sound.
And then the inimitable burl One has to
give up in despair all attempts to repre-
sent it phonetically, just as one cannot in
letters represent thepronunciation of "me"
and similuyr words. But it is all English
of a sort, and not Scotch. Still more strik-
ing is the difference in facial expression.
The typical Scot is naturally reserved, not
to say sly and self controlled, his face is
something of a mask through which the
true man peers at his neighbor A south-
ern peasant is polite,. civil, respectful, cap
touching, in awe of the squire and the
quality. In Northumberland you will find
the peasant franker than the Scot, of more
independent bearing than is common
south of the Ouse, his faults rudeness and
brusqueness.—Longman 's.
The Fork Is Nine Hundred Tears Old.
By the way, it is just about 1,900 years
ago since the fork made its appearance in
Europe. In 90 A. D. a son of the doge
Pietro Orsolo had wedded in Venice the
Brizzantine Princess Argils, who produced
at the wedding breakfast a silver fork and
gold spoon. Then the high Venetian fam-
ilies followed suit, and these martyrs to
fashion pricked their lips with the new in-
strument. The fork prospered, however,
and spread over Italy. In 1379 it had trav-
eled as far as France, and in 1608 a trav-
eler brought it direct to England.—Lon-
ion Figaro.
Remarkable Indeed.
He -I see that statisticians have found
that toren live longer than women do. This
is almost beyond belief.
She—I don't see why you should take
that view of it. Men are naturally stron-
ger than women.
He—Yes; but, on the other hand, look
at the risks of being talked to death that
they are constantly running.—Cleveland
Leader
A VALUABLE GAMECOCK,
Biz Was Recently Purchased •In England
For 51,000.
Tho most valuable gameeook in the
world was recently purchased at Bir-
mingham for $1,000.. This precious war-
rior was exhibited at the Birmingham.
poultry show two weeks , ago by his
breeder, Mr. Hugo Ainscough. He was
then the cynosure of all eyes. It was
generally agreed by the fanciers that sc
A 81,000 oAticoog.
fierce and strong a chicken had seldom
if ever been seen. It was announced at
the show that bo had been sold far $1,-
000, but so large is this price that the
sale was not generally regarded as gen-
uine until the name of the purchaser
was announced. He is Captain Heaton
of Worsley, near Manchester, a man of
position and an enthusiastic breeder of
game fowl.
Tho Birmingham bird belongs to the
black and red class, which is considered
to contain the most pugnacious of fight-
ing cocks. There is a belief generally
entertained by fanciers that a consider-
able amount of any light color in a
bird's feathers indicates a lack of cour-
age. Black and red aro both strong col-
ors, supposed, and probably with good
reason, to be the outward signs of a
fierce temper.
This gamecock is of large size and
perfectly proportioned. His reach is
wonderful—that is to say, he has very
long, powerful and supple legs, with
which he can reach out and strike death
to an ordinary bird before he can get
near.
His body is broad and short. The up-
per parts of his legs are very think and
muscular. His neck is lithe and as sin-
uous as a snake. He carries his bead in
a way that bids defiance to the whole
world, and his clear, glittering eye
knows neither fear nor mercy.
The gamecock's only interest in life
is to put his fellow gamecock out of the
way. He goes round forever spoiling for
a fight, and he frequently gets it.
Japanese Poultry.
Among domesticated birds the Jap-
anese silver phenix easily takes the first
rank. Although a small bird, not larger
than a bantam rooster, the tail feathers,
as well as the end feathers of the wings,
grow to a length of from 18 to 20 feet
on the male birds. This bird, which in
Japan is called Katsuraito-no-Chabo, is
domesticated there like any ordinary
chicken. The hens are good egg pro-
ducers and hatchers, but in order tc
keep them small in size the Japanese
will not allow them to hatch until late
in the year. The birds are very game
and proud and form the pride of the
Japanese poultry raiser. The longer the
tail is the more valuable the bird is
considered to be.
TAPEWORMS OF POULTRY.
Report of the United States Department .
of Agriculture.
It has been known for years that tape•
worms infest domesticated poultry, and
that in, some . cases they cause serious
epizootics among fowls. The outbreaks
thus far recorded have occurred chiefly
in Europe, and as a natural outcome al-
most the entire work which has been
published on these parasites is the result
of European investigations. The litera-
ture upon the subject is accordingly in
Latin, German, French, Danish, Ital-
ian, etc., while in the English language
we have only a few short notices con•
oerniug these worms. Generic and spe-
cific diagnoses of the parasites of this
group are almost unknown articles in
the English language, while as yet we '
have absolutely no reliable data as tc
aow many species of tapeworms are
found in American poultry.
Several outbreaks of tapeworm dis-
ease have been noticed iu fowls in dif-
ferent parts of the country, and upon
various occasions specimens have been
sent to the bureau for identification.
From a table showing 83 recorded
species it was noted that 6 different
tapeworms have been recorded from
pigeons, 2 from turkeys, 11 from chick-
ens, 2 from swans, 7 from geese, 16 from
ducks and 1 from an ostrich. One form
has been recorded as; common to pigeons
chickens and ducks, 5 forms as com•
mon to ducks and geese, 1 form as corn.
mon to geese and swans, 1 as common
to pigeons and ducks, and 1 as common
to pigeons and chickens.
Tho treatment of tapeworm disease
in the domesticated fowls must for the
present bo more or less experimental, as
the records in this line are extremely
limited.
The first rule to be parried out in all
cases of diseased animals, whether
chickens, turkeys, geese, ducks or oth-
ers, is to isolate them from the rest of
the flock and keep them confined until
they have recovered. The second rule is
to destroy the droppings of all animals
known to be infected with parasites, or
if the manure is needed as a fertilizer
it should be treated in such a manner
as to kill the ova.
These two rules can be easily carried
out, and if a poultry raiser or a stocll
raiser is not willing to set aside a small
yard for the isolation of the sick ani-
mals, where their droppings can be nasi
ly collected and taken care of every day
it is almost useless for him to adminis.
ter anthelmintics to his fowls or other
animals,
The chief drugs used against tape-
worms are: Extract of male fern, tur-
pentine, powdered kamala, areea nut,
pomegranate root bark, pumpkin seeds
and sulphate of copper (bluestone).
Poultry Points.
Dampness causes leg weakness in
ducks.
For large, heavy fowls have the roosts
low.
Dry earth is a good material to scat-
ter under the roosts.
Early hatched, well developed pullets
make good winter layers.
When a thrifty bird is fully matured,
it is easily fattened.
Stale bread soaked in milk is a good
feed for young poultry.
Cleanliness and good feeding are the
secrets of success with poultry.
Leghorns and Black Spanish lay eggs
with the whitest shells of any breed.
On the average it will cost $1 to keep
a laying hen one year.
Foods that are rich' in oil should not
be fed to laying hens unless in small
quantities and unless the weather is
very cold.
Soft food is an excellent invigorator
'when fed warm on a cold winter morn-
ing.
Oilmeal, sunflower seed, hemp seed
and buckwheat can all be used to good
advantage in feeding fowls intended for
exhibition.
Scald and allow to stand overnight
in a place where they will not freeze.
This is one of the beat ways of feeding
oats to poultry.
A cross of the Wyandottes and Lang-
shans combines many good qualities
that make a fowl valuable for market.
Linseed meal brightens the plumage,
regulates the bowels and promotes di-
gestion. A gill to a dozen hens is suffi-
oient.
Lack of variety will sometimes cause
the hens to lose appetite. When they do
not appear to relish their food, give
them a change of diet.
The best way to dry pick fowls with-
out tearing them is to pick them as soon
as they are killed, while the body is
yet warm.
THE BEST FEED.
Green Bones Bettor Than Grain to Maki
Piens Lay.
Green bones are not used as exten-
sively as they should be, because grain
can be obtained with less difficulty and
at a low cost, but as egg producing ma•
terial the bone is far superior to grain,
nor does the bone really cost more
than grain in some sections. The cut.
ting of the bone into available sizes is
now rendered an easy matter, as the
bone cutter is within the reach of all.
Bones fresh from the butcher have more
or less meat adhering, and the more of
such meat the better, as it will cost at
more per pound than the bone, while
the combination of both meat and bone
is almost a perfect food from which tc
produce eggs.
A pound of cut green bone is snfa-
cipnt for 16 hens one day, which means
that 1 cent will pay for that number
of fowls. If one quart of grain be fed
at night to 16 hens and ono pound of
bone in the morning, it should be ample
for each day—and the majority of fan-
ciers do—we find, in winter. In summer
only the bone need be given. Such a
diet provides fat, starch, nitrogen, phos-
phates, lime and all the substances re-
quired to enable the hens to lay eggs.
As an egg is worth about 8 cents in win-
ter, it is plain that it is cheaper to feed
bone than grain, as the greater number
of eggs not only reduces the total cost,
but increases the profit as well.
The bone cutter is as necessary to the
poultryman as his feed mill. It enables
him to use an excellent and cheap food
and gives him a profit where he might
otherwise be compelled to suffer a loss.
It is claimed that the bone cutter, pays
for itself in eggs and really costs noth-
ing. Bones are now one of the staple
articles of food for poultry, and no ra-
tions should have them omitted. They
are food, grit and lime, all combined in
one, and the hens will leave all other
foods to receive the cut bone. If cal
fine, even chicks and ducklings will
relish such excellent food, while tur-
keys grow rapidly on it. To meet with
success requires the use of the best ma-
terials, and green bone beats all other
substances as food for poultry. There is
quite a difference between the green,
fresh bone, rich in its juices, as it comes
from the butchers, and the hard, dry
bone which has lost its succulence. The
value of all foods depends largely upon
their digestibility, and the more this is
provided for the greater the saving of
food and the more economical the pro-
duction of eggs.—Poultry Keeper.
The Whole Story.
Early hatched pullets got to laying
before cold weather and kept laying will
be abundantly broody in March, which
enables another supply of early hatched
chiokens, the pullets of which will be
laying before cold weather comes on and
lay freely all through the winter, giving
els another generation of early brooders
and more early hatched chickens. The
whole story of profitable poultry raising
can be summed up in three short rules:
(1) Hatch the chickens early; (2) keep
them growing so the pullets shall come
to laying maturity before cold weather;
(3) keep thorn laying by g�nd care and
good food.. The 1st of Ap E is the best
time to hatch chickens for fall and win-
ter layers. vee