$l)c ilmlljam ttccorb.
&I)C l)atl)am Uccorb,
- - j
7l A. LONDON,
Editor and Proprietor,
RATES OF ADVERTISING,
One square, one insertion $1.00
One square, two insertions . 1.60,
One square, one month 3-60
For Larger Advertise-
Ay
TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION,
$1.50 Per Year.
Strictly en Advance
ments Liberal Con
VOL, XXVI. PITTSBQRQ, CHATHAM COUNTY, N. C THURSDAY, JUNE 2, 1901,
NO. 42.
':
tracts will be made.
tfW Iky 4 1lvty
If
I By Anna Katharine Green,! Anthot ?,,T,hFor8akert a
a iDHj Kt I
, COPYRiQHY. 1SQ, hY WOagWT IONNIB'5 SOWS. A
CHAPTER XLIV.
, Continued.
f'jitiu K.io a position thai deinanufci
in xil"ii;Uiou.
"Fin h as well as I. calculated toe
la lie upon th'.' resistance which ankles
in fill no'-le nature's. You would not
leave the iovii. and you would pre
serve ilit attitude of a lover, and
theuii-ii f : iegraw did not seem to b
it a'Tecied ly your rivalry. I knew
tli;M. Montelli had 'onceiveel the deep
ed hatred- for you, and that he only
awaited an opportunity iu order tc
destroy you.
'Th- announcement made by his
iisastci- of a particular desire to see
me o;i a certain morning, taken witL
the 'att thai a lawyer had already been
unui)'md to accompany him 'on this
interview, brought matter- to a climax,
llic wretch attempted your life, and
though I kuew nothing of it at the
time, nor of the jeopardy in which il
placed him with the police. I did know
i ha t he desired to have some talk with
me. for 1 had heard from my window,
where I invariably sat between the
hours of eleven and twelve, the short
and peculiar bird whistle, which had
been made a signs'. 1 between us.
"It was a hateful call to me. but 1
dared not slight it. As in anticipation
of his purpose. 1 had already opened a
window in the hall below, I had wtly
to descend to the lower floor to meet
him. Hut when L stepped from my
room. 1 became aware, possibly by
some occult influence, ihat 1 was not
Mone in the hall; that my actions were
el-served: and that my future steps
v-"Uld b.? watched, if not followed.
"What should I doV (Jo back? It
was too late. But how go forward
iih out awakening criticism and risk
ing discovery! Happily, my training
('; the stage had included the study
.f the part of La Somia'nihula, and re
iuembering it at this critical moment.
I made my body rigid and tixed my
uazo. : :ul so passed on without pause
jr slfiirkin.u. though inwardly greatly
r.gitatc i. For the persons engaged in
watching ine wve 'likiry and a strau--?cr.
whose presence awakened my
ceenest fears, though no thought of
l:i being a 'member of the police
.-tossed my mind.
"But this was nothing to th shock
vidch followed, v.Iien in another mo
: lent 1 encountered you. This I was
':ot prepared for, and I inwardly
nailed. But instinct kept me from be
itaying myself. I retained my studied
manner, and went by you like an ap
parition. But terror was iu my heart'.
ror I noi only saw that for some reason
?11 my friends wee ti tiie alert, cither
y surprise n:y seen;, or give me a pro-".-lien
T was far from ue:ding. But
i was under the constant apprehension
:f Montelli making his appearance and
i-.t provoking a conflict which might
nd disastrously for you. You remem
er how I give a weapon in the shape
if a sharp paper knife, and then how
I wandered into the back hall in the
:opc of flitting off Montelli and thus
.nsuring not only his safety but your
jwn.
"I did net meet him, though he must
have been there, and I came back hope
in!. a;ui went again upstairs. But hor
Tur awaited me. When I reached my
th amber door, I perceived the fierce
eyes and threatening form cf this
dangerous man emerging; from the
back staircase, and though I had no
fear of his keen knife, I had cf the de
tection cf our secret; for I knew that
Hilary and her strange companion
wore vouching us from behind, and
mat I-e had but to drop a word or cast
a look belying his seeming antagonism
for our mutual understanding to be
fceu, and my despicable position dis-
overed.
"B:,t he was too subtle to make such
p. mistake, or perhaps he bimseif had
perceived the forms of Hilary and
Mr. Oryce; for he increased the fierce
ness of his demeanor; he even lifted
his knife and I was vaguely asking
myself how he would extricate me
from" this situation,, when your friend,
Mr. Byrd, extricated us both by his
sudden leap upon the seeming assassin.
"In the struggle that followed I
bad no time to think. My eyes met
these of Montelli as his knife flew from
bis hand ana fell at my feet; but I did
net understand his look, though I
ricked up the knife and sought to es
eape with it to my room. But my fears
to what he would do in his rage and
disappointment drew me ' back. I
must, gain some assurance ', from him
hat he would net visit upon me the
misfortune that had fallen upon "him
self. And so I had the courage to de-pc-end
to where he had fallen, and lock
t him where he lay, and listen to the
pbras?s he uttered, and which were
s I took it. assurances that he still had
hopes fc:- himself, and little, if any,
resentment against- me. But when you
came forward and placed my. arm in
yours, his manner suddenly changed,
"s you v.ill rcrnemler, and be became
pike fierce, fie foresaw difficulties
if 1 Hung tr you .and threatened me.
by w. :i d and gesture. I was glad when
v.c vvere cvt of his sight and hearing,
-:,nd was relieved rather than abashed
when Mr. Gryce proposed to watch
best of; my doer and keep me from
harm's way till after I had held the
premised interview with Mr. Degraw,
which he and you supposed would
P-'e me beyond the malice or reveDge
t I L I - - - -
of the persons believed to be mv ene
mies. "Of that interview I need say little."
It was a surprise to m? in more ways
than one. I had not expected voti to
be present, and I had not looked for the
proposal w ith which Mi Degraw
prefaced his great gift. If I had. I
might have been better prepared to
meet it. I could not have accepted it
even if upon its acceptance had hung
the wealth I now saw almost within
my grasp. I had decided in the night
that I would marry no man but you,
and I cannot tell you how I was af
fected by his generosity, which left
me free to bestow hand and wealth
where I would,
"But you badscrupies, and though" I
was too happy to be impatient t felt
myself robbed of some of the satisfae
tion which I had promised myself.
Mouteili's arrest troubled me, too. but
that anxiety was not destined to be of
long duration. Before the day had
waned, 1 was tirst shocked, then deli
riously gladdened by the news that I
need fear this dangerous man no more;
that he was dead, and that one of the
most relentless claimants upon my
wealth was taken out of my path for
ever. "Not that 1 begrudged the money he
demanded. 1 con hi have spared a mill
ion and not feit it. But I had some
initiation into business matters during
the transferring of this fortune into my
possfssiou. and 1 foresaw' that it "was
not going to lie so easy a matter to pro
cure two or three hundred thousand
dollars out of this eflat without ex
citing th? attention of those who had
it in charge. This was the reason, like
wise.why I accepted your decision with
so much grace. A husband would have
been ineouvejuVnt to me in those tirsi.
days: an agent was Pad enough. I had
to deceive him. and I had to deceive
Hilary. In order to meet the wants of
the Portuguese. who crowded her claim
doubly upon me. when site found that
Montelli w:;p djad. 1 was obliged to
ask for large sums of 11101103- for which
I could give no ac-cmu, thus acfprirbig
with my agent the name of being very
extravagant, and with my friends the
reputation of being strangely parsimo
nious. I went with Hilary to the sev
eral watering places, but I spent no
money in jewels, and but little in th?
nfcesaries of life; for I looked forward
to the day when you would come back
to me. dearest, and I wished to be
clear of all obligations, and free forever
from the hateful presence of the Portu
guese; for she never was long away
from me after I returned to New York.
In the capacity of my hairdresser she
visited me every day. and though but
few words pass-id between us. it was
well understood that a certain amount
must be furthcoming every week, if I
desired to preserve pleasant relations
between us.
"Hilary suspected nothing. She used
to wonder why I persisted in dressing
so plainly, and hinted, now and then,
that a richer costume, or a more gener
ous mode of living, would be more iu
keeping with my wealth and position;
but it did not take much to turn her
thoughts to nobler subjects, and I was
never unduly embarrassed by her Ques
tions, or annoyed by her suggestions.
"I was happy ah! how happy! for
I had not yet come to the full realiza
tion of what I had .lone, and saw noth
ing but complete delight in the future.
I never doubted that you would return,
or that I should pay off tiia Portu
guese, and thus win love and freedom
at once. I enjoyed my wealth, my con
sequence and my power, and experi
enced, perhaps, more delight in the con
templation of the future than I would
have done if my present had been free
from care, and I had been enabled to
gratify at once my naturally luxurious
tastes. And so the summer passed.
"nearest, I have more than once
asked myself while I have been pour
ing out these confessions, whether if
you had been less exacting and had not
required the giving up of my fortune,
we should bare been happily married.
It adds to my grief to think we might.
It makes death doubly hard to dream
of what might have been, if, instead of
asking the sacrifice from me of all for
which I had worked so long in shame
and sorrow, you had simply folded me
to your breast and made me by that
embrace the good woman I longed to
be. But, then comes the thought that
deception never prospers, and that it
was iu this way the God of which you
once spoke to me showed His disap
proval of my sin and. the impossibility
of my hoping to reap happiness, when
I had sewed for myself misery. And
this thought comforts me, for it takes
from my fate that factor of chance,
which it is so maddening to contem
plate. I die because I haTe sinned, not
because your fancy led you to play
with my love, and exact conditions,
when all that my soul craved was per
fect confidence on your part and a
blind affection.
"The interference of Byrd in my af-
fairs I doVnot understand. You may.
If he has any real reason to suspect
me, it must spring from the treachery
of some one of those wretched asso
ciates of mine. Montelli and the Portu
guese are dead, but Annetta still lives,
as well as that miserable woman of my
name whom I have never seen. If
they have betrayed me, they have done
i with complaints and recriminations,
! and these I do not deserve. Believe it,
I and siare'iae any nlLecJlsiryZe2--
Witat I acknowledge " is bad clioiigh.
Byrd was nothing; to me; Prom the
day I bade him good-bye ih Great Bar
riugion till I saw him again in Miss
Aspinwall's parlors, t did not bestow
upon him a thought. But on that day
he showed that he had not forgotten
me;
rD6 yon recall that day or can 51011
realize even how alt that it was to me?
You had asked hie to give up my for
tune, to yield What had beeii Avon
Ihrougli ways so tortiioits and at cost
of efforts so shameful; and I hesitated;
can you wonder, and was swayed this
way aud that, according as my reason
or my heart spoke. But reason finally
had its way, and I went dressed in vel
vet, only to repent my decision so bit
terly that, before I went within reach
of your glance; 1 stepped into Hilary's
dressing-room and put on one Of her
cloth diesses: Love might mean self
denial and fearful complications with
my associates, to whom I had not yet
paid the half that was due, but I felt
ready to do and bear all, or rather, 1
felt in that moment more ready to meet
the doubtful results of abnegation,
than 1 did the withdrawal of the hopes
which had made my summer so glori
ous. But, after 1 was dressed and be
fore I could meet youn appreciative
glance, some one brushed me in the
crowd and a note was 'nit in my hands.
Ah. dearest, that not-1 li was sent by
the Portuguese, then sick unto death, it
seems; bm it was not written by her.
but by Montelli. who had been dead
three months. As I read it I knrw
that my intentions had been foreseen
by her. That, although she was ill. slit
had wished to show nie that she stiH
kept walih on my moveuunls and
hold upon my fate. It van thus: and its
contents are as great a mystery to mc
as they must be to you:
" 'I am discovered and must liy. You
are safe if you will but forget your
weakness for the artist. Ch?iish thai
and you ave !o-t. You cannot haw hive
and money both. 0 choose, but, ii
choosing, remember that th" Portu
guese and I will have our n ney ir v.v
have io ak your lover for it. We hav
nor run so many risks for nothing.'
"This, iu the lnoni'itt I w.:s aio"! o
commit myself to you irretrievably.
What if the writer was dead, the
sender was not. or so I thought in that
moment of ."hock and terror. Pushed
by the crowd, troiured by my fears, i
hesitated one instant, and then went
again to Hilary's eios t and procured
me a cloak. Enveloping myself in this
I went below. Did yon recognize i-. as
bespeaking the hesitation wbi h ii
reallv b'travcdV Hid your iov rake
ala,rin aud aue you to turn a more
willing ear o the insinuations of the
detective' I .-hail never know, for !
have never dared to question you.
"But the developments Avtie not at
an end. While I hunted for a glimpse
of your face, Mr. Byrd came why Mr.
Byrd I have never been able id under
standand told me in the strange way
that he told me of Mouteili's death,
that, by another happy Providence, the
sender of this note had perished also;
leaving my path clear of enemies and
myself free to follow the dictates of
my heart.
"You know what followed. How. in
a rush of renewed hope I threw aside
my cloak, and called your heart to me
in a song. How I looked for response,
and how if failed to come. Mr. Byrd
was at your ear and you listened to
doubt which held you back, and when
you did break away from him and seek
mo. it was to find that I hearkened to
ihe voice of another wooer, who asked
of me nothing, aud promised me all
things.
"Can you not foresee the rest? How
the love which had succumbed to your
indifference rose triumphant again at
this evidence of your continued affec
tion. I had jeopardized my happiness,
but I determined to regain it at any
cost. Nothing should or could stand
in the way of what had now become
my one passionate' desire. I wrote to
Mr. Degraw. I took the one means I
knew whereby I not only would obtain
a full release from my engagement but
insure likewise his acceptance of the
gift which he never would have given
me had he recognized my real unworth
iness. I confesed to him my love for
you, and I confesed, also, my share in
the plot.
"It was a fatal act how fatal I im
mediately perceived when my impetu
osity led me to your studio, and we had
that interview so unhappily interrupt
ed by Hilary. If the suspicions of the
police had been aroused in regard to
me. how mad had been the impnlse
which had led me to put upon paper
words that could justify their suspi
cions and make possible the detection
of my duplicity. Though it seemed too
late to profit by this discovery of my
folly, I made one frantic effort to do so.
I rode back home and endeavored to
stop the delivery of my letter, but
failed in this, and Mr. Degraw not only
read the story of my deception, but by
some treachery or some mischance
which he could not himself explain,
this letter was stolen from him almost
immediately after his reading it, so
that my secret was no longer at bis
mercy only, but at the mercy of the
world, and, what was worse, of you.
"Do vou understand now the frenzy
which drove me into asking you to
marry me that night, or how I could
hardly subdue my fears when you re
quested time to notify your mother?
Detection lay before me, and I had
neither the stre-ngtu to meet it nor the
courage to forestall it by telling you
what would shatter your love at a
blow. For though Mr. Degraw urged
me to this course, measuring your na
ture, perhaps, by his own, which is af
fectionate rather than passionate, and
tenacious rather than proud, I, who
knew you better than he, felt that
death must precede any confession of
my past deception to you. ',
"What! Tell jou that the sweet in
uocence of -'which you have so often
spoken was" the mask" which hld
scheming heart? Pob my beauty of
its charm and my memory of its grace?
Make th-, most beautiful moment in our
lives the mere climax to a farce and
teach your Soul to hate that which had
given it life aud purpose? Impossible
I could die, but I could not do this, and
though there was one chance remain
ing of this letter escaping your notice,
I prepared for death, and re-hired these
rooms, that you might take your last
look at m? where you did your first,
and thus see in the final act of my life
an expiation which would soften you?
hate, and lead, perhaps,' iu time, tJ
your regarding me with pity and ten
derness.
"But that one chance came near suc
ceeding, and I breathed again, only to
be dashed once more into the fathom
less depths of despair. You had re
ctived the letter, but you had hot read
it, and though you gave it back to me
you wished to see iis foments.
"It was the final blow. Though it
was possible to deny you what you re
quested, it would be. as I kn?w, at the
cost of your future confidence. I" could
not lose this and be your wife, so I
gave up the struggle from that moment
and bade farewell to you forever in the
silence with which I met your parting
embrace.
"This Mas two hours ago, but it al
ready so"m an age, for tbo shadows m
death are upon me. t;iul 1 niiss the
smile which should h'eip me acvoss the
dark river into which I am about to
plunge. Has that smile left me for
ever? or. may I hop'..1 that yjiu pity, if
not your love, trill folic-w nie. into the
shadows. I do noi: plead tny youth; I
do not plead my VA brlnging-up cr mu
tually disappointments and temptations.
I plead my love, which, it small at iirsr
has grown to be the tulipg passion of
my life. U led me to give up a great
fertuiK', ic led me to betray my secret
faults, and now it has brought me
here. Will you drop a tear for it. if
not for your dead JKXNV:"
33
.Teuity Bogeis is dead, and yet. for
the Degravs life h'dls much in pros
pect. In a certain New York home
there is a noble woman, avIi ) is now
the comforter of the artist's grief, aud
who will live to ie the angel of his
home, while in a quaint, but unfash
ionable square, below Fourteenth street
there dwells and .smiles a little being
whose name lecaiis bttiei memovios,
but whose sunny nature and unfet
tered spirit make it more than probable
that the Delancy millions vviil again
folloAV the beck of love and be be
stowed not upon Yirginia Rogers, but
upon .Toannelie. the name by which
Poih the Degraw persist in addressing
the charming young schoolteacher.
TIIE END. -
FOUND ANCIENT INDIAN JAR.
Rare Specimen Recently Discovered
in New York St2te.
R. Horracks of Fouda, X. Y., while
stalking deer during the last hunting
season at the Little Falls of the up-:
per waters of the Saccndaga, near
Lake Piseco, caught in a heavy down
pour of rain, was obliged to seek
shelter from th? storm under the
ledges of the Little Falls. While sit
ting there his attention was attracted
to what seemed to be a round, brown
bowlder partly covered with moss.
Carelessly striking it, it gave forth a
hollow sound. His curiosity being
excited, he dug away the earth with
his hunting knife and soon laid bare
a symmetrically formed earthen jar.
The jar stands ten inches high. At
its largest circumference it measures
thirty inches, and at its smallest
twenty inches. The circumference of
the top or mouth of the jar measures
twenty-four inches.
The vessel on the inside bears signs
of use, but the outside shows no trace
of fire, as is usual in Indian jars. The
bottom is rounded. The ornamentation
around the top is of the usual style
of the Mohawk pottery that is, a
series of straight and diagonal lines.
The jar still hears the moss that had
gathered on the rounded bottom that
was exposed above the earth.
r The jar is a well preserved speci
men of Mohawk pottery, and is rare
on account of the shape of the top,
which is cut in three curves, forming
three points, which give it a triangu
lar appearance. Amstsruam Morning
Sentinel.
Subaltern Foiled the Colonel.
I doubt it the pranks of the present
day subaltern are as pluckish as
those of his predecessors. I can re
member a story that went the rounds
some years ago 'q a 'daring Junior
of the Grenadier, Guards who chaffed
his colonel in a, fashion that would
not be tolerated to-day. ; But the colo
nel was not disposed ta deal leniently
Avith him. He kept unusually late or
rather early , hours, so; one day an
early parade was ordered unexpected
ly, and live minutes before the hour
the colonel rode past' the culprit's
quarters.
Cheerfully unconscious of, impend
ing doom, the latter leaked out of his
bedroom window in the airy gar
ments of sleep to say good morning.
The cplocel chuckled and rode on,
but to his surprise at the stroke of
time the subaltern stepped cmt on pa
rade, fully dressed an.d-all in order.
He knew cf the trap and had doined
the looser garment over his uniform
io take a rise cut of his superior.-
f T-oti
London Tattler
Wearing Out Sole Leather.
Our average man wears out nearly
two inches of sole leather in a year.
Some crank has estimated that if a
man had shoes made to last him a life
time they would have to have soles
nearly nine feet thick.
In-sanity has" for years been Increas
ing in Ireland. ..
AGRICULTURAL.
et.ccvvrt'
t"!edlQg Ky to Hogs.
In feeding young hogs the rye may
be fed either ground or soaked td
growing hogs. It is not desirable to
feed the whole grain dry. The better
method of feeding is to grind the rye
and. feed it as slop. As to which is
the tnore economical method, will de
pend oil the question of grinding. The
man Who does his own grinding will
find it more profitable" to grind his
rye and mix it with some corn and oats
ground, feeding this combination .as
slop feed. Where it is necessary to
pay for the grinding, the soaked grain
will probably be more economical, as
soaking costs but little; twelve hours'
soaking is sufficient. Rye makes a
splendid feed for growing pigs. It
should be free from the disease known
as "ergot," as rye which is thus af
fected is poisonous to stock. J. H.
Skinner, in Indiana Farmer. .
Feeding .Sheep in Trough.
The design of a sheep trough illus
trated this week is one which has been
found entirely satisfactory, all things
considered; it is some little trouble to
make it, but its superiority over the
average trough is so great that the la
bor spent in its construction will be
well spent. As shown, the trough is
twelve feet long, sixteen inches wide,
twenty-two inches high, tapered as
shown. With the exception of the
slats, which are one-half inch thick,
and two and one-half inches wide, the
trough is made Gf inch lumber. The
sides, which are nailed on the edge of
the bottom, are six inches wide. The
end pieces, or legs, are three inches
wide aud extend six inches below the
TKOT'GII FOR SHEEP,
bottom of the trough as shown. These
legs are, of course, fastened securely
to the trough after the latter is built
and are independent of the rack itself.
The rack is built by nailing the slats
0110 foot .opart 0:1 pieces three inches
AA-ide and twelve inches long, and are
then hinged to the sides of the trough
to that they rest on the edges of the
trough when closed. Two hinges on
each side strap hinges, of course.) will
be sufficient. At about the middle of
the racks a bent hasp is fastened so
that when the racks are in place they
may bs held so by turning the hasp to
the other side over a staple and hold
ing it in place with a bit of Avood. In
this arrangement either rack may be
let down and the trough thus filled
from either side. Indianapolis Xews.
Two AIitaU'S.
Tt is a mistake to allow colts and
calves to remain cut iu Avood or field
through winter storm and cold with
no other shelter than a fence corner or
tree trunk. Hardening them, some
farmers call it. It surely is a case of
the survival of the fittest if they sur
vive it and do well. The bony, scrag
gy colt and calf brought up In the
spring may live out its allotted time in
spite of such usage, but it is at a loss.
If you trust to the mercy of nature,
she asks pay for it hi shortened days
or stunted growth. The other day,
passing a large field. I saw one lonely
calf, its back parts to the storm, cov
ered with snow, shivering in the fence
corner. Xot a-shed or straw stack in
sight. And I thought of the proverb
concerning the merciful man. Stock
should never be turned into corn stalk
or wood pasture in winter without hav
ing something provided in the way of
shelter, which they can reach in
stormy weather. Better not sell off all
the straw to the staAvboard, and use it
in covering rude sheets for cattle and
other stock. Our cattle are now far
removed from their Avild ancestry and
do not bear eoltt and exposure well.
Again, it is a second mistake to confine
horses and cattla too closely. They re
quits plenty of fresh air. Ths stables
end cow sheds should be as warm as
possible to make them, but they
should be provided with good veotil
ators. Cows standing in a close atmos
phere, laden with th poisonous ex
halations from their own bodies, pass
that poison back again to diseased
lungs and milk. Some exposure to the
cold and fresh air is necessary for the
well being of the cow. It is a tonic
that shows up quickly in her appear
ance.. You can kill or Aveaken your
stock by lack or care, and sometimes
you can veaken them by too much
care. Ida Shepler, in The Epitomist.
ClmteHFov Grain.
In a great many farm barns the feed
lng grain is kept on tht upper floor
and all that is fed out is carried down
an one way or another. An American
Agriculturist writer has a barn ar
rL thus and Avith uo suitable ; space
au thQ baf t0 bic' t As
.a Avay out of tne difficulty he put m
ay out or tne mmculty tte pu
xome grain chutes to run from the bins
-above, as shown in the accompanyiu
cut. In some cases the chute could be
allowed to drop directly from the bin
above Avitbout cny joints. Under; few
circumstances will a chute Avith les
than half pitch be satisfactory. . Oats
will run through such a pitch witU lit
tle difficulty. Whe-it or rye will foJIow
ven a less slant, but W'th bulky Vtuff
like ground feed there is consider) tble
Uacger of clogging. - ' ?
The iaft-rior of the chute ought not
to be less thait six inches square six
by eight would be even better. The in
terior should be free from ali obstruc
tions. The hopper shaped device just
1 A
A GRAIN CHUTE.
under the bin is quite necessary with
oats and ground feed to give greater
headway. The cut-off (A) is an ordin
ary draw supported by two cleats oil
either skie. An extension is also made
to the rear board of the chute so that
it projects about half an inch outward,
thus giving chance for holding a bag
if necessary. Connecticut Farmer.
Vractical Farm Dairying.
Thinking', perhaps, the experience
of a "common'' farmer with a common
herd avouUI be interesting as well as
instructive, I submit this: During the
year ended April 1, 1903, our herd aver
aged a trifle over 300 pounds otbutier
each. We sold the same at twenty -tAvo
cents net. During the last year we
sold part of the cows. At the present
time I am milking four October cows,
Avhich make an average of forty-two
pounds a week. It avouUI be somewhat
difficult to average them to April 1,
but I am confident the four will make
400 pounds each next year. The cows
are common Jerseys. Xot one is regis
tered. No two are alike, nor is there
one which could compete in the show
ring. In fact, they are Avbat Mr. Pack
would call "scrubs."
They ftra stabled in a rather cold up-
ground stable, confined in stanchions,
tnd let out twice a day for water and
put back immediately, except on pleas
ant days. Avheu they are given an
hour's run. Their feed consists of
pleuty of good oat straw and timothy ,
hay twice a day, and shredded corn
fodder or chaff at noon. The grain ra-
tion is four quarts of whole oats and
bran mired antl four quarts of buck
wheat rinds onc-e a daj. They are
watered at a trough from which the
ice has been removed neroreuaun.
Thev have no ensilage or summer
erain: are Avell bedded, but never cur- ,
ricd. They are treated kindly, but in j
no sense are they under different con- j
ditions than are, or should be, iu reach J
of every farmer. We try to have them olives, one breakfast cneese, one ta
dry through September. While I ful- blespoouful of mayonnaise dressing
ly agree that cows Avill do better with : and one tablespoonf ul of cream; stone
scientific surroundings and better and mince the olives; cream the cheese.
breeding, still there is better money J
for the plain farmer with a common
herd of full blooded Ayrshires, but the
scrub cow is where Ave got the start to
do so. and, in defense of this much
abused beast, will say that many a
one Avith a reasonable chance would
surprise the felloAVS , with the high
priced fancies. Lee Hathaway, in Tribune-Farmer.
roultry Jiolee.
See that there is vigor and activity
in the male bird.
Changing hens fc new quarters is
apt to check their laying.
It is best to cook cut clover hay and
then mix it. hot with ground grain.
Even if the chickens do belong to
the wife, you should help her with the
heavy work.
Exposing fowls to heavy wind
storms is as dangerous to their health
as is rainy AA-eather.
CroAvdeel roosts at night will bring
colds to the flock about as quickly as
anything we knoAV of.
Heavy forcing will no doubt increase
the egg yield, but it will cripple the
stamina of future generations.
Sifted coal ashes should be spread,
several times a week, upon the drop
ping boards. Never use wood ashes.
Feed the morning mash before giv
ing water to drink. It Is a mistake to
allow a fowl to become chilled by
drluking cold water while the crop is
empty, -.
It is a very easy matter to improve
the farm flock, and now is the proper
time to look over the flock and select
a few of the very best pullets and mate
them up with the best cockerel upon
the farm. They can be confined in a
wire netting yard adjacent to a por
tion of the poultry house.
The Use of the lead pencil in putting
down in black and white the number
of eggs and fowls produced and the
price received for them is a good way
to change the mistaken belief that
hens do not pay for their feed. A rec
ord should be kept of the fowls and
eggs consumed for family use.
This is the season when many farm
ers are moving from one locality to uo
other. Changing tens from one place
to another is a good way to cause them
to stop laying. They may be coaxed
to resume operations sooner .than they
would otherwise by changing their
diet. Give something new aud they
Avill come to their meals with an appe
tite. Durability of Syeaunore.
The durability of sycamore wood is
vouched for by a specimen in a Cairo
museum. It is nearly tiOOO years old
and is in perfect p ojidition.
Minccl Meat Browneft.
Mince cold roast beef very line, adil
to it one tablespoonf ul of chopped pars
ley, half a teaspoonful of salt, a little
pepper, one teaspoonful of minced
onion, one cupful of grated stale bread,
a little lemon juice and one cupful of
stock or grary; put this over the fire,
then put it in a buttered baking dish;
spread over buttered crumbs and put
in the oven anil when brown reAiOT
ami serve with tomato purees,- . - .
Coeoannt Pn(T.
The whites of three eggs beateu very'
light a small teaspoonful of fine white
sugar, one teaspoonful of corn flour.
When these ingredients are mixed, put
the mixture into a custard saucepan?
or a jug set in a pan of boiling water,1
and stir constantly for twenty mmutes,
then take it off the stove and add a
quarter of a pound of desiccated or
grated cocoauut. When Avell mixed,
drop in teaspoonful on buttered pa
per. Bake in a very slow oven, as they
must not brown at all. . -'.
Graham GrhliUe Cake."
Scald three-cupful of milk, -let K
stand until cool; sift in two and two
thirds cupfuls of graham flour; beat
the mixture until smooth; add two ta
blespoonfuls of butter melted, one ta
blespoonf ul of salt ami half a com
pressed yeast cake dissolved in a lit
tle water; heat again and let stand
oA'er night in a wl'm place or until the
mixture is very light; beat yolks of
two eggs; add them anil then the well
bealen whites; let stand ten minutes;
bake on a hot griddle. These arc a
little more elaborate than some grid--dle
cakes and also very good. -
Brown ot White Sunilwii'lien.
Any kind of finely chopped nut
beaten to a paste with a small quanli-
ty of mayonuaise, will make a delic-
urns filling for either brown or wuue
bread sandwiches. Waldorf sandwiches
are made of white bread and butter
spread with a mixture' of equal parts
of sliced apple and celery, a sprink
ling of sliced walnuts, all moistened
well with mayonnaise. Chicken sand
wiches are math? in the same way,
omitting the nuts aud apple. The rip
omitting the mi
olive sandwich was very popular last
season for afternoon teas. For ou
loaf of gluten bread use a pint of ripe
adding first the cream and then the
dressing, and, lastly, the minced ol
ives. Stir to a smooth paste and spread
on thin slices of buttered bread. . .
For making sandwiches, bread baked
In large-siza baking powder cans will
be just the right sbse and free from
crusts. ' -y
A simple tlessert is whipped cream,
sweetened slightly and flavored with
pistache. Serve the cream in 6halkw
bowls, and In the centre of each drop
a very fresh meringue kiss, one of the
large round ones preferably.
It is the present theory that one
should eat a great variety of food. This
does not mean that many different
kinds of food must be taken at one
meal, but rather that one's diet should ,
be made up of many different whole
some things. Moreover, a wholesoftie
diet should hot ba permanently reject
ed simply becttu Jt I not liked at
first. It U frequently the eaia that by
eatjng such an article a few time one
gcqnU'es a relUh for it.
In tabic setting there if always iome
thing new. At a recent dinner the hos
tess surprised her guests by decorat
ing the centre of her table with a cloth
of pure gold thread solidly worked, the
border a lace design of white silk antl
fine gold mesh in diamord-sbape
stitches. The green for the table wis
small ferns, set iu an oval dish of dark
blue t:hiua, with figures in relief rep
resenting peasant? in holiday costume.
At each corner of this gold centre was
a caudles lick in dull silver of Colonial
design, furnished with a shade of iri
tlescent glass, which graduated from
toues of light yellow to dark orange,
and then to red.
In the'. lighting of bouses plenty of
light judiciously shaded is what best
suits the majority. The idea in arti
ficial lighting: is to suggest the bright
ness and warmth of sunlight within
the house Avails. The only real sun
light color being pale yellow, ttris
should be used largely. It is far.mare
comfortable and more economical to
have the light down low,, surrounding
and Avarming the occupants of the
room, and to have it standing out cold
and chill from the distance. The wax
candle Is untidy, and its light is not
practicable fen- reading purposes, but
feu general purposes there Ja no pur
er or softer light. Many' women. pre
fpr to have their drawing-roems un
derligbted. . '." , '
1
'
,a
'
-I
I
'1
I
m
11
li
1
1.
ill
i
: '
4
i
ilk
i-t
w,
' ';i
V ''
m
i'p
ill i
m
A
1
.1!'