Newspapers / The Smithfield Herald (Smithfield, … / May 15, 1908, edition 1 / Page 3
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GARDEN, LAWN AND LANDSCAPE BY J. A.Ci^fcCSaSTCH COLD JPRlKli ONmSHODJON / > A -A. C0f&?SP0?TOENC? ^ SOLICITED Sour soil will produce nothing of value. A little ilme Is the best remedy It Is quite as important 10 preserve liquid uiauure as solid, since Until are ueeded for a complete fertilizer The best lawn grass Is a mixture Kentucky blue grass ts a pleasant ro mance, but in the world of tact Is found defective at uiauy points. A man who can muke a good garden can do almost any tiring rise well A man who will nut' muke garden may lie good for other things, but there is sometlking laclilng In his soul. Do not spray while trees and shrubs are in bloom. To do so not only Inler feres with the bees, biffaNo prevents the full fertilization of the blossoms Give the bees a chance, and they will help themselves and the trees at the same time. ?... A Chinese gardener near Fresno claims to have produced ail odorless onion. His statement is borne out by many of his white neighbors who claim to have inspected the new mar vel. The odorless onion should become quite a social lloil. Despite nil tlie stories of fabulous fortunes made at gardening. a great many people do get u comfortable liv ing, while others extract enjoyment and save money by raising their own vegetables. The sudden riches fate is written about ull callings. Grapes do well on high, stony land A south slope is desirable. The holes lu which the vines are set out should be wide and deep enough to give the roots free space. The vines should be well cultivated and when of suffi cient age should be carefully pruned, the pruuiug being attended to in the fall. The worst foe of mankind is laziness. Laziness permits the lawn to look ragged, the farm to grow up to briers and underbrush and the garden to be come a meeting place for all weeds. The only three essentials to success in caring for garden, lawn or land scape are good taste, common sense and hard work. By planting vines and shrubs about the walls of the vegetable garden It can be made a thing of beauty Avoid hard, straight lines The graceful curves of nature are Infinitely more charming than the precise, mechanical, severe regularity affected by most am ateurs as well as by many profession als True gardening cannot be made mechanical any more than true poetry or true music. ' One of the crimes not yet recognized on the statute books is that of per mitting the fare of nature to become disligured when u little care and at tention would have nu.de It a thill', of ornament and use An original \Vt! deruess may have a certain beauty, but a wilderness that has hceti allowed to grow up around 11 human habitation is an abomination in the sight of the Lord and everybody else ciotl created tin- rivers ami the li]lis ! the grass and the trees, the fruits and I the flowers, hut |ilileed tliein at the dls I posal of man. who must make the most I of their varied and Infinite posslbili I ties. Man himself thus becomes a sort j of creator. The gardener can make a I world of his own. shaping fresb coin- ! "binations of beauty, bringing out novel qualities in plant, flower and fruit or reshaping them, as in the ease of I.n- I titer Burbauk. into something wholly j new. For covering verandas and arbors I many persons in this country are now i raising the Japanese kudzu vine. It Is j hardy and grows from forty to sixty I feet In a single season. The leaf is I large and the flowers pretty The vine | is adapted to the southern states, as in the north it dies down in winter and floes not flower so well. The large, fleshy root grows into most etr\m? i ha pes. In addition to being miliar: 1 leled for ornament and shade, the I ml ztt vine has an inner bark of to: a a lilier which is manufactured Into I: a strong cloth and a root that yields ex cedent starch He who creates a beautiful tr-trd a lawn, park or landscape is a bene;to tor to his race All who U'cild h work are gladdened, blessed : d nt.: V better. Others arc brought to cum 'a him, and thev lu turn cr< a:> tliiu of beauty to gladden ortaet pent <? to create still more emulators Titus his lufluence for good like the wave on the lake, goes out and out furover It cannot be measured or limited In either time or place It Increases with a geometric ratio It Is impersonal, and the Impersonal benefactor Is the highest The life of him who creates a garden glTes out a sweet perfume like Us creation. A PASSION FOR ARTICHOKES. That it does uot pay to trust to ap , j'iraticss, especially in the matter of ; ?uota. is proved oy the follow! ug true s'ory: A city family on buying i little fartn in lb? couutry tor summer took along > man of al! wont who salil h? was famktar with the farm tn Its native air This man was faithful but oear lighted and prone to busty conclusions One day be came tc the house In grea' glee with t bunch of long an! fa' looking roots found while spading m the tardea These he declared with much pog!tlv?ness were art! chokes The cook was suspicious, but tbe mao of all work was so certain tea' the lady of the bouse who bii never eaten artichokes taste! a silver of -me or the roots rather ptugerly \ tady friend did the same, uud the cook followed suit This was about s in I the afternoon In the meantime the man of all work put the "artichokes" it soak tot bis dinner lie was so elated with his Ltd that be watted tc eat them all. The cook w as the hrst victim After the manner of cooks she dtu not wal' 111! the family was through dinner hut Investigated a piece of steak and a slice i f gingerbread while attending to het ether duties This was all the sliver of "artichoke" needed, and in a few minutes there was a very sick cook on the premises. Shortly after dinner, while commiserating with the cook, the mistress also became ill, and the friend was not long behind. In the meantime the man of all work prepared for his artichoke diunet with all the gusto of a gourmand about to discuss frog legs ot the first straw berries of the seasou The cook's ill ness did not irt the least disturb him, as he charged It to other causes, but when the two others followed In nlliefe sue. cession be was temporarily turned from his infatuation for artichoke by being hastily dispatched for a doctor. There followed intense excitement in that particular household, and three people remembered all the horrible cases of poisoning which they had ever read?that is. until too busy with cramps and retchings to remember any thing distinctly. When the doctor arrived he pro nounced the supposed "artichoke" noth ing but common poke root, a rank poi son. Fortunately the three victims had taken too small a quantity to produce fatal results. Their "tasting" unques tionably saved the life of the man of all work, who has now recovered from his passion for "artichokes" and who in future will form the acquaintance of no root that does not carry a doctor's certificate as to Its identity. WHAT WOMAN HAS DONE WO MAN CAN DO. One feminine correspondent writes that on the unused portion of a fifty foot city lot, her house and lawn oc- j cupying the front, she has raised enough garden stuff for her own fam ily aud considerable for the neighbors. This she has done with only one hour's work a day and a few cents occasion ally for seeds. Fine. She not only knows how to make a garden, but how to write about it. it is dollars to j doughnuts that this particular corre spoudeut's place looks as spick and span as a new pin, that it is clean in- ! side aud out and that there is some J joy aud ginger in life for those who live in her vicinity. There Is no question that these things , can be done by any one with sufficient | common sense aud energy. The trou- | hie with most city dwellers or subur banites who try to make garden is that they know nothing of the subject and do not try to find out. that they get any old kinds of seeds, that they stick j them in at any old time, that they do j not half prepare the soil, that they do ! not use manure and that they do not | properly cultivate or keep out the j weeds after the plants are started. If n mori.hnlll mn lliu l?iDln.i..o on Iho ! slipshod methods employed in most | gardens lie would go broke the first i year. Cnrdening is a science, likewise ] an urt it requires intelligence and i hard work.' like anything else in life j With t It is intelligence and hard work, however, there are few occupations that give a larger return for the money and time invested -a larger return ei ther in value or lu happiness. We hope in time to have numerous other correspondents who will tell eveu a better story than does this woman who spends an hour a day in her back yard, but who makes that hour count. BRUSSELS SPROUTS AND KOHL RABI. There are two members of the cab bage family that are not so well known in this country as they deserve. Brussels sprouts produce a few small heads about one to two Inches In diam eter. Tbev are boiled and stewed in cream and are of tine flavor The seed should be sown early in rows two feet apart and should lie thinned to two fee? apart in the row When the heads appear the leaves should be removed to gitc more rootn. a few leaves being left at the top of the plant In winter the plants may lie preserved by set ting in a pit in the cellar. Then the heads ran be used us desired. Kohlrabi grows Into a head some thing like a cabbage, which it resem bles in flavor, but still more closely re terubles 'he turnip The heads should be picked when aliout three Inches in diameter, as they grow tough when larger. Seed should lie sowed early, j and when three Inches high the shoots should be transplanted to rows two feet apart and one foot apart in the row. The vegetable Is sliced and boiled tike turnips. t The Walking Kettles. By FLOYD INGALLS. s Copyright. 1307. by*James gchrelber. VT WAS introduced to thorn iu an im |,j expected way. and I did not soon JM recover fr.nu the Intense curiosity excited by my tirst Impressions of them. I had goue to the old Mtnot house, in Dorchester, Mass., to take dinner with ' my aunt. We two, my aunt and 1, had wandered over the houue. up the huge stairway and down Into the cellar Suddenly auut opened the door of un o'd pantry on the floor of the porch and said. "Child, look here!" "What, auut?" "The two brass kettles* Two enormous brass kettles met my j eyes. They werii^turued over on the floor, and each would have held the . contents of a half barrel. "Those are the ones, my dear." , "What oues, aunt?" "The ones that saved the two chil dren from the old Indian straggler.t' "What Indian straggler?" I asked, ' with Intense interest. "Oh. the one In King Philip's war. Didn't you ever hear the story?*1 "No, aunt." "Well, I'll get T'ncle Zebedee to tell It to you after dinner. Come." "But wtmt could any one do V'h such kettles as these? Whe > ifM tln-y hang them?" 1 continued. "Come here, and I will sh' you.'' She swept away, and I rl the ? "i of the d'irl; room, which v .s llf' 1 i only by opening the door, a. follovel ! her IVe went Into the trll, nnn ? pointe<l to an enormous flren! ice en 1 said. There, child." "Rut, aunt, how did the t o bwa kettles save the children?" I a again. "Oh, they crawled about all <? ? the tioor here, there and yonder," poi>.. Ins. "Which crawled about, the kettles or the children, aunt?" A din here fell upon the air and echoed through the great, fortre?fi-like rooms. It was the huge bell for meals. "Come, child, let's go. Uncle Zebedee will tell you all about It." In a moment we were In the dining hall. How grand It all seemed! The sideboard was full of baked meats and steaming pies. Over It hung a flintlock j guu or a blunderbuss. The room had been decorated for the occasion with creep' < jenny and boughs loaded with p,: , 1 s that had been broken off by a September gale. There was a whitewashed beam across tbe room on which were great hooks and staples. The table was oak. and the chairs were of a curious old pattern. At the head of the table was a great chair, and in It sat Uncle Zebedee, a good old man, ] now nearly ninety years of age. After the family were seated Uncle Zebedee was asked to say grace. lie bad a habit of saying "and" after end ing a sentence, and this made another sentence necessary, often when lie had r.otliing more to say. It was so even in his prayers and was very noticeable in ldr. story telling. There usually fol lowed an "and" when the story was dona. It was a queer structure, the old if'.not house in Dorchester. It was TWO KNOKMOL'K II1.4SB KKTTL58 MKT Mf KVBS. really a brick house Incused In wood - u fort house it was called. It ws; built In this way to protect the dwell ers against rude Indian ass-oils. There were many sn-.-b houses in the old col onics, but one by one tlicy y ew gray with moss and rani he 1. The Mlnot home Itself was burned about twenty years ago after standing about. 211;,' years. The old people of Dorchester cuu Nepoaret must remcttther It. It rose solemn an I stately at the foot of the high h'll - verlooklu.? She si t mer.d ows. The lityih tide Cauie i to the thatch titer-ins near if ait 1 went out agn u. I avitig he abundant sh IMls.'i spouting In tlie sun. The frla"?d gen tians "T-rr amid the a: It-math of the hayflelds around it. The o - >:????-. ne in the tall trees l;i summer time, ,u'.i OKprcys clrck-d and scronmcd In tlic clear sky over- all. t Bat the urelaudsf Mere whi the fullness and perfection of the old New England orchards! The Huuth wiuds of May Scattered the apple blossoms like snow over the emerald turf and tilled the nlr with fratcrauee. The earliest bluebirds came to them, and there the first robins built their nests. Uow charming ami airy It all was in May, when the days were melting Into sum mer, and how really beautiful and full of life were all of these venerable New England homes! After the old house was burned I vis ited the place and brought away a few bricks as a souvenir of a home of hero ic memories -of happy memories, too. If we except a single tragedy of the In dian war. The great orchards were gone, the old barns and their swallows. Only the well remained and a heap of burned bricks and the blackened out line of the cellar wall. It was a house full of legends and stories?wonder stories that once led a stranger to look upon It with a kind of superstitious awe. It had Its historic lore, and. like all great colonial houses, Its ghost lore, but the most thrilling legend asaoelated with the old walls was known as "The Two Hrass Ket tles." The legend may have grown with time, but It was well based on historic facts and was often told at the ample firesides of three generations of Dorchester people. The dinner, like t'ncle "Zebedee's prayer, seemed never to end. After the many courses of food there was an "and"?and pies and apples and nuts and all sorts of sweetmeats. "Uncle Zeheuec," I piped. "Well, dearie." "Aunt said that you would tell ul'Uie Story of tlso two hrass kettles after din ner," \> iiy. <it'Mrip. yes, \ es. i ve oet-u telling that story those eighty years, oome October. Didn't you never hear It? T thought all little shavers knew about that. The two brass kettles?yes. "They're In the old cupboard now. Bring them out, and I will tell you all about 'em. I shan't live to tell that story many more years. Maybe I shall never tell It again." The servants breught out the two kettles Into the kitchen where we could ; ee them through the wide din ing room door. "Put 'em In the middle of the floor before the window," said Uncle Zebe dee. "There, that will do. That la Just where they were when the Indian came. You see the window?" he added. . It had a great, deep set casement Orapevlnes half curtnlned It now on the outside, and the slanting sun shone through them, lta beams glimmering oa the old silver of the table. It was past the middle of the afternoon of the shortening days of autumn. "You have all heard of Philip's war," continued Uncle Zebedee, leaning forward from his chair on his crutch. "Everybody has. It destroyed thirteen towns of the old colony and for two years filled every heart with terror. Philip struck here, there nnd every where. No one could tell where he would strike next. The sight of an Indian lurking about In the woods or looking out of the pines and bushes usually meant a massacre. "One Sunday In July, In 1075, the family went to meeting, leaving two small children, a boy and a girl, at home In the charge of a maid named Experience. The kitchen llien was as you see it now. The window was open; the two brass kettles had been scoured on Saturday and placed bot tom upward on the floor just as you see them there. "It was a blazing July day. The hayfields were silent. There was an odor of hayricks in the air, and the bobolinks, I suppose, toppled about In the grass and red winged blackbirds piped among the wild wayside roses just as they do now. I wish that you could have seen the old hayfields In the long July afternoons, all scent and sunshine. It makes me long for my boyhood again just to think of them. But I shall never mow again. "I>et me see. The two children were sitting on the floor near the two ket tles. Experience was preparing dinner and had made a fire In the great brick oven, which heated the bricks, but did j not heat the room. "Well, on passing between the oven and the wlmlow she chanced to look toward the road, when she saw n sight that fixed her eyes and caused her to throw up her hands with horror. Just ' like that." T'ncle Zebedee threw up both hands, like exclamation points, and let his crutch drop Into his lap. "Well, the maid only lost her wits for a few moments. She flew to the | window and closed It and tiolted the ; door. Then she put one of the children i under one of the brass kettles and the other child under the other kettle and took the Iron shovel and lifted It so and | waited to see what would happen, and"? I'nele Zebedee lifted his crutch, like an Interrogation point, nnd we could easily Imagine the attitude of the ex cited maid. "And?where,was I?" "The children were tinder the two brass kettles, and the maid was stand ing with the fire shovel In her hand so." said an it. "I,n, I've heard that story ever since I was a little girl." "Yes, yes; I have It nil now." said T'nele Zebedee. "She was standing with the fire shovel up so. when she discovered that the Indian had a gun? a gun. "Yon see that old flintlock there Oyer the sideboard 1 I used to fire it off ev ery Fourth of Jul}-, but the last time I fired It kicked me over once. Don't you never fire it, children. It always kicked, but It never knocked me over before. I don't think I am quite aa vigorous as 1 used to be, and"? "What did the maid do with the' gun?" asked annt. ?The gun?yes. that was the gun, the mm up there. The fu? was up In the chamber then, and she dropped the shovel nnd ran upstairs to find It. Itut It wus uot loaded, and the powder was I in olio place and the shot In another. ' a'id In her hurry and confusion she heard a pounding 011 the door, just like that." Undo Z.ohedee rapped on the old onk table with startling effect, and then, after n moment's confusion, contlnuedi . "She loaded the gun and went down to ' the foot of the stairs and looked : through the latch jpde of the stair j door, so?and- yes. atld the Indian was 1 J standing at the window?that window His two eyes ?ere staring with won der on the two brass kettles. lie had probably never seen a kettle like these before, and he did'not know what they were. "While he stood staring and wonder lug the kettles began to move. Two little hands protruded under the ball of each of them, like turtles' paws, for the kett! m stood on their ears, which lifted them a little way from the floor. One of the children began to creep and to cry. moving the kettle. The other be- ; Ran to do the same. The cries caused the kettles to ring. Two creeping ket tles! They looked like two big beetles or water turtles, aud such the Iudinn might have thought them to lie. but A FEW DAYS AFTERWARD THE INDIAN*# DODY WAB FOUND. they bellowed like two brazen nnimols, and?did you ever hear a child cry uu Oer a U'ttle?" said Uncle Zebedee, with a curious smile. Wo ail confessed that we never had. "Then, child, you Just Ret under one of those kettles and holler. You needn't be afraid. There a'.n't no Indians now to do you any barm. Holler loud!" I did so. "I)o you o if that?" said I'ncle Zebe dee. "You "ver heard such a sound as that before. Hollow as a bell. Another child was placed under one of the kettles and uttered a continuous cry. The sound rani? nil over the room! "Tin re!" said I'ncle Zebedee. "Did any one ever bear anything like that? It rings all over the room, scary-like. "Well, the children did not know about the Indian, and they began to creeji toward the light of the window, mov'ng the kettles like two enormous beetles and crying and making the ket tles rumble and rumble all around, ; booni-ooni-oom, .lust like that. The In dian's black eyes glowed like tire, and he raised his gun and tired at one of the kettles. Rut nothing came of It.. \ The sh it d; 1 not harm the children un der the kettle. It frightened both of ' the children r.nl made them cry the | louder and louder and scream as though they were frantic. 'Ugh!' said the Indian. 'Him no gootl' "The kettles were all alive now. mov ing and echoing. lie was more puzzled than before. What kind of creatures could these he with great brass back and living paws and full of unheard of noises like those? 'Ugh, ugh!' said he. I Jnst like that. The kettles kept moving , nail sounding, and the Indian grew , more nnd more excited as he watched them. Suddenly he threw up his great arms and turned ids hack, and? Now it all goes from me again." "lie said 'Ugh" and threw tip his arms and turned his hack," prompted aunt. "And the maid opened the stair door and liretl," continued Uncle Zebedee. "She drew quickly back and waited for the family to return. The children continued to cry. But they were safe, as tlie.v could not overturn the kettles aud'bullets could not reach them. The family came In an hour lu great alarm. They had seen human blood in the road, but no Indian. "A few days afterward the Indian's liody was found In some hazel hushes by the brook. It was burled in the meadow there, and"? "The Indian's grare," snid aunt, prompting. "Yes, I used to mow over It when I was a boy and"? ( "That is all. Uncle Ze!>edee." said aunt. "You've got through now." "Yes. I've got through uow. I dou't think that ! shall ever tell that story | a;-.in and"? There was something pathetic and yet beautifully prophetic in the contin uance. The slanting sun shone through the old window, and the chippering of birds was heard In the fields. Uncle Zebedee never did tell the story again. The final conjunction of 1 !? lorg. iKMCOful life came soon after ho told the tale to me. The c > t- and | mosses cover him In the aid liorchcs er burying ground. The old bouse Is pvie; the tv ?> kettles, the gun and even ' the grry rioue from the field thu' rude ly marked the Indian's grave. | Grass, Flower, Field | 0 and Garden Seed 9 * For allclassosof customers, fi a the larsre as well as the Q 2 small buyer. We solicit ? ? orders especially for large Q a amounts of Grass, Field & a ? Garden Seed* on very smalt | Q margin of profit Q ? Summer Flowering Bulbs X Q Tuberose * Q Dialias X Cannas Q 5 Gladiolas jj V In large and varied assortments, * Q ttie latent varieties and colore. Q M Flower Pots and Jardiniers a Always kept in atock at reason- + LI able price*. Cull aud examine X a our stork. g Clayton Drug | 9 Company 9 Ready Por You Having bought the planing mills until recently run by Mr. J. E. Page, I am pre pared to servo the public in my line Give ine your orders for flooring, ceiling, mould ing, weather-boarding, man tels, window and door frames. School Desks a Specialty. John I. Barnes Clayton, N. C. ***** | Sewing 1 $ Machines g I am agent in Johnston g & County for the a v< S New Home Sewing % I I | Machines i ^ This is my nineteenth year jjj 'ti selling them. If there are ? g other machines as good I i a do not know it. ? i< I jjf ? ? If you want a machine 8> write or let me know it . I j! | J. M. Beaty, g | Smithfield, N C. 3 5 DR. G. /A. HOOD, TKKA8CKKR OF JoHNHTl N COUNTY Will be in his office at The Bunk ol Smitbtield, every Saturday until o'clock and every first Monday and Court Week. Parties having business with bun can get it attended to at other times at The Bank of SmitbfieM O. M Kirk man pr< prietor of of ?he White Star Co.. has just installed a $1500 sanitary Foun tain. It would give credit to any city. Blacksmith ?. Wood Shops X Lot me remind you that I am conducts g Blacksmit h and Wood Shops at Four Oaks and am readj'to do General Repairs ou Tarts, Wagons. Buggies, Etc. Horseshoeing Correctly Done \m fully prepared for repairing Huggies and such things, fall to see me. /. E. BOOKER, Fonr Oaks, N. C.
The Smithfield Herald (Smithfield, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
May 15, 1908, edition 1
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