4 J? rfl
4
$1.00 a Year, In Advance.
"FOR GOD, FOR COUNTRY AND FOR TRUTH."
Single Cop j 5 Cents.
VoJL. X VI.
PLYMOUTH, N, C FRIDAY, JUNE 2, 1905.
NO.ll.
IN MY
In my dreams I often hear' them, hear the far off voieea calling
Irom the hillside, from the red road, from the rolling waste of plain;
Hate you left us altogether? (some one told us in the township)'
la it really true, old fellow, you will not come back again?
In my dreams I often see them, see the shadow people waiting
On the hillside, on the red road, on the rolling waste of plain;. .
And my lipa would fain give answer something hopeful, if not certain,
But a mocking spirit whispers, "You shall not return again." , "
n mv dreams I often see it, see the dear old shanty standing,
V fl".1- briar scented breezes playing round the open door;
J Nothing great, nor grand, nor gaudy, but a quaint old wooden building,
I Just a kind of way back tavern and a sort of way back store. t ,
-v ..,."
'A"d. I often hear the voices of the sturdy station children,
k j t lt'e snatlow children in the middle of the road;
a 3 piUes!l tliat they are waitin8 f or the teamster and his wagon
And the dear old loony bullocks with their precious border load.
'? . '
Shadow plains roll out before me with a mob of cattle charging,
i - 1 ear 'ie J'eP'nS brindle as she turns them on the rise;
-' And, anon, a shadow figure by the old slip panel waiting,
.' And I note the look of longing and the sorrow in her eyes.
'Must the dreamer go on dreaming what the fickle goddess pictures?
Alust he wake to hnd the vision all too seldom what it seems?
joJ! who fashioned all things perfect, grant that one day you will find me
, toiceping somewhere in the ranges with the shadows of my dreams.
' . rail Mall Gazette.
it!
LIBBY, THE .
. UNLOVED
J2?
OCO"
:IBBY ANDERSON hun
the dishcloth on its accus
torned nail, and stood there
surveying it. It was plain,
from the way she looked,
that she was determined to speak.
"Ma," she asked of the woman who
was sitting before the little round
stove, "what were those papers Dave
put in his pocket us I came in?"
"Some things he was showin' me."
"Ma, she asked, quivermgly, "you
didn't sign anything, did you?"
"I didn't sign your name to any
thing." And the needles clashed again
She knew her mother too well to
press further.
"I just couldn't understand Dave
coming here this time of year," she
ventured: "and I thought he acted
queer."
The old woman was folding her knit
ting.
"I'm going to bed, and you'd better
come along, too," was her reply.
A week went by, and although Libby
had twice forgotten to feed the chick
ens, and had several times let the ket
tle burn dry, she was beginning to feel
more settled in her minL '
She did up her work one morning and
went to town.
Her first call was at the solicitor's,
and there she heard the worst. Ma
hnd .assigned their home to Dave. She
did not make any fuss; she was too
old-fashioned for hysterics.
It' was not until the old place came
In sight that she broke down.
"It's not fair," she cried out, "when
I've stayed here and worked it's not
fair!" And, for the first time in many
years, she was crying passionately
crying.
It was a feeling of outraged justice
that made her speak, for she was just
a woman the daughter of pa.
"Ma," she said, "do you think pa
would like to think of your assigning
the place to Dave, when I've stayed
here and kept it 'up the best" I could
for twenty years?"
The old woman put down her knit
ting. .
"La, now, Libby," she said, not un
kindly, "don't take on. You'll never
want for nothin'!"
Libby stood there looking at her.
"I think you don't realize what
you've done," she said; and turned 'to
the bedroom to take off her things.
It was not until the next .month, the
blustering month of March, that, all
was made clear. It was early in the
afternoon when Libby looked from the
window and saw a man coming 'in" at
the big gate.
"That friend o'f Dave's from the city
is coming, ma,"'slie said4 ."
"Gracious!" exclaimed Mrs. Ander
son, "and such a "day as 'tis!' .
The stranger -warmed his hands, and
disbursed a number of pleasantries,
"Well, Mrs. Anderson," he said fin
ally, "your son wants, me to make a
little proposition, to you."
Mrs. Anderson looked pleasantly ex
pectant. "Dave's always makin' propositions,"
she chuckled.
"He's been a good deal worried about
you this winter afraid you were, not
just comfortable out here you two, air
alone."
"Dave's always thinkin' of his moth
er's comfort," she asserted; and looked
triumphantly over to Libby.
"Well," he resumed, turning back to
the older woman, "it worries Dave to
think of your being out here alone now
that you're getting along in years, so
he's rented a nice little place in town,
and he feels sure it would be better
all around if you'd just go in and take
it."
"If that ain't for all the world like
Pave! always some new idea in his
head. But you just tell him, Mr. Mur
ray, not to be bothering. We don't
want to move to town do we, Libby?"
"Not if we can help it," she replied,
"Dave's been away from the place so
long that he don't see just bow 'tis,"
ma explained. "Libby and me
wouldn't feel at home no plact else."
III L I
DREAMS.
1 "It's too bad you feel that way," he
went on persuasively, "for Dave was
so sure you'd like the idea that he's
gone ahead and made all arrangements,
and I'm afraid there might be a little
trouble about unmaking them."
He turned to Libby.
. "How soon do you think you could
move? By the 1st of May?"
"I suppose so," she answered, in a
dull voice.-
April came, and for the fiftieth time
the old woman watched the white give
way to the green on the hills that
curved in and out around her old home.
As long as she could, Libby let her
have her dream. Her heart was not
hard toward ma now.- Ma had not un
derstood. And Libby was glad, she
could have those few spring days be
fore she was torn from the old home.
"Ma," she began one morning, "
think I will have to be packing up this
week."
"Packing up what?"
,rWhy, don't you remember, ma, we're
going to town the 1st of May?"
"Oh, la, Libby, I've give that up long
ago! I'm going to die on the old
place."
"But you know, ma, the arrange
ments have all been made. I'm afraid
we'll have to go."
She turned to her crossly.
"There's no use to argue wi' me,
Libby Anderson. I ain't goin'!"
"But what about Dave?"
"You can jest write Dave, and say
his mother don't want to leave the
place. Dave won't have nothin' further
to say."
She looked off at the meadowland as
if it were all settled. Libby would
have to tell her.
"Ma," she said, "it's no use to write
to Dave."
"Why not?" she demanded, in a half
frightened, half-aggressive voice.
' "He's sold the place, ma!"
"What's that you say? Something
about Dave selling my place? Are you
gone crazy, Libby?"
"You know you deeded it to him.
ma. It was his after you did that.
And he's sold it, and we'll have to
move out."
Hearing no answer, she turned
around,'-and it was then she coveted
Dave's' gift of saying things smoothly;
The old woman was crouched low in
her chair, and her face was quivering,
and looked sunken and gray.
: "I didn't think he'd do that," she .fal
tered. "Never mind, ma," Libby saM awk
wardly. "Poor ma!"
It was the nearest to a caress that
had passed between them since Libby
was a little girl.
Nothing more was said until after ma
had gone to bed. Libby supposedshe
was asleep, when she called quaver
ingly to her.
"Libby," she said, "you mustn't be
thinkin' hard of Dave. He must have
thought it for the best."
Libby was used to caring for ma,
and she needed care now.
"Yes, ma," she answered; "I'm sure
he must."
It was not until the morning of the
fourth day that the silence between
them was broken. Libby got up to
take down the clock, when she heard
a strange noise behind her, and, turn
ing, she saw that ma's head was down
low in her hands, and she was rock
ing passionately back and forward, and
crying as though her . old heart had
broken.
She put down the clock, and again
she wished for a little of Dave's silki
ness of speech. But she did not have
it, and the best she could do was to
pull ma's chair out from the barren
room out into the sunshine of the
porch. The hills, she- thought, would
still look like home.
Ma did not get up at all next day.
Perhaps she was ill, or perhaps it was
onlv that she did not want to go out
in the sitting room and see how un
like home it looked. But the next day
she did not get up either, and then
Libby went to town for the doctor lie !
said the excitement had weakened he,
and did not seem very certain she
would- ever get up again. That night
Libby wrote a letter to Dave, asking
him again to let his mother die on the
old place. A week passed, and an an
swer had not come, and still ma had
not left her bed. The packing was all
done, it was the 1st of Majr, and she
was just waiting she did not know
for what.
Her whole soul rose up against mov
ing ma from the old place now, when
her days were so surely numbered;
and so she sent a telegram to Dave,
telling him his mother" was ill, and
asking leave to stay ' a little longer.
There came a reply from his partner,
saying that Dave was away, and would
not be home for two weeks.
That night the old woman raised her
self and sobbed out the truth.
"It's Dave that's killin' me! It's to
think Dave sold the place, and turned
me out to die!"
And then the way opened before
Libby, and she saw her path.
The disinherited child wrote a letter
that night, ahd.'to it she signed her
brother's name: Out in the world they
might have applied to it an ugly word,
but Libby was only caring for ma. She
was a long time about it, for It .was
hard to put things in Dave's round,
bold hand, and it was hard to say them
in his silky way.
The doctor said next morning that it
was a matter of but a few days at
most, for ma was much worse.
"It ain't that I'm goin' to die," she
said, when Libby came in and found
her crying; "but I was thinkin' of
Dave. I keep thinkin' and thinkin' of
him when he was a little boy, and how
he used to run about the place, and how
pretty he used to look; and then, just
as I begin to take a little comfort in
rememberin' some of the smart things
he said, I have to think of what he
has done, and it does seem like he
might have waited till " But the
words were too bitter to be spoken,
and, with a hard, scraping sound in her
throat, she turned her face to the wall.
Libby put her hand' to something in
her pocket, and thought of last night's
work with thankfulness.
About 11 o'clock she entered the
room with the sheets of a letter in her
hand.
"Ma," she said, tremulously, "here's a
letter just come from Dave."
"I knew it'd come I knew it!" And
the old voice filled the room with its
triumphant ring. Then there crept
into her face an anxious look. "What
does he say?"
"He's sorry about selling the place,
ma. He really thought youM like it
better in town. But he's fixed it up
for us to stay. He says you'll never
have to leave the place."
"I knowed it I knowed ' it well
enough! You don't know Dave like I
do. But read me the letter."
She did read it, and the old woman
listened with tears glad tears now
falling over her withered cheeks.
"You can just unpack our things,"
she cried, when it was finished, "and
get this place straightened out. The
idea of your packin' up,' and think Ave
was goin' to move to town! Nice mess
you've made of it! Jest as if Dave
w;ould hear of us leavin' the place. I
always knowed you'd never 'preciatcd
Dave."
Before morning broke ma was dead.
Happy, because she had back her old
faith in Dave the blind, beautiful
faith of the mother in the son. And
Libby the homeless and unloved
Libby was happy, too, for she had
finished well her work of caring for
ma. London Answers.
Tersely Put.
Bobby has just reached English com
position in his school, and his father
is a newspaper man, who prides him
self on his concise style. Bobby came
home from school the other day in high
glee because his teacher had praised
his composition on George Washing
ton. He showed the production to his
father with "pride, but was somewhat
crestfallen at his parent's criticism:
"Too many words, my son. Too many
words altogether. Why can't tfrour
teachers instruct you how.to express
your ideas tersely? Now, just sit down
atthat table, take this pencil, cut out
every word j'ou can spare without
leaving out a single idea, and if your
mother does not agree with me that the
result is better than this composition
which your teacher praises, I'll give
you half a dollar." The lad took the
pencil and fell to work, while his
father read the paper. After a Jong
time Bobby brought the heavily scored
manuscript" o him, saying: "It was
hard work - o keep in something on
every one of the things Washington is
famous for, dad, but I guess 1 did it."
This is how the result read:
"George Washington became the
Father of His Country because he had
no little boy cf his own to whip for
cutting, .down .cherry trees, and ho is
remarkable among American states
men because he would not' tell a lie." '
Mamma awarded t lie half-dollar to
Bobby. New York Tribune.
- t
Tlie Food of thn Gulls.
A scientist told the Belfast Natural
History ' Society '' that there; are 2,000.
000 gulls in the United Kingdoni, and
during the herring season each con
sumes 20(J fry a day. If all the fry
reached maturity they would be worth
24,000,000.
niNTS FROM ORCIIARDISTS.
Make the hens cultivate apples,
plums and small fruits. Have yards
enough so that hens can be changed
from one yard to another, and in that
way keep for them a succession of
green feed 'in spmmer, while they help
you torp,the-f;uit. . Sow, buckwheat
or other grain in the yards when the
hens are' .not using them, for them to
gather later. Have small, movable
coops or pens for the hens to roost in,
and sheltered laying boxes, also mova
ble. A. W. Fisher, in the Massachu
setts Ploughman.
FERTILIZING PEACn TREES. ,
The peach is somewhat sensitive to
overfeeding with nitrogen or ammon
iate manures. Trees grown near barn
yards shoot out very vigorously at first,
but the tissues seem to degenerate
rapidly, forming gum pockets and ex
uding large quantities of gum. The
trees have been observed by peach men
to suffer from winter killing and iiex
treme cases are often killed outrig'btl.
An application of nitrate of soda, at
the rate of 300 pounds per acre in one
case rioted by the Department of Agri
culture, retarded the ripening time of
peaches tvo weeks. Peaches regularly,
ripen on the poor knolls and hilltops
earlier than in adjacent valleys or
pockefs a few feet away, where seep
age nitrogen affects them. The latter
are also more subject to certain fungi.
The proximity of an old stable was in
one case the cause of the fruit being
belated, and while the trees and fruit
were larger, the latter was Inferior in
color and quality. In a series of tests
the fruit on the trees moderately sup
plied with nitrogen was brighter in
color, sweeter and finer in texture, and
only slightly smaller. In fact, the
peaeh is healthiest and yields the best
fruit in soils which, for most other
crops, w.ould be considered deficient in
nitrogen.
The plum in this'respect behaves
very much like the peach, especially the
Japanese varieties. Two. plum trees
were given six pounds of 1 nitrate of
soda which is a large application-
strewn in a circle around the trees
about equal to the spread --Tf ' the
branches. It was applied in spring
after the growth had started and while
growth was moderately stimulated dur
ing the season' and they appeared "'to
be all right in the falL they were killed,
root and branch, the following winter,
though adjacent trees were- entirely
unharmed. On account of this sensi
tiveness to nitrogen, skilful peach and
plum growers are always very cautious
in the use of nitrogenous fertilizers,
especially stable manure. G. E. M.,
in the Indiana Farmer.
THE HITCIIINGS METHOD,,. ;
The "Hltehings" method of orchard
culture, as it is called,- has-excited very
wide attention, because it has shown
results which have not been equalled
by ordinary methods, not even by'tbe
improved methods of tlie' most ad
vanced scientists. The. Rural New
Yorker thus tells how it iS:
Mr. Ilitchings does not plow or culti
vate his orchards. His soil is naturally
strong, and is well adapted to fruit
growing. The trees are planted-- in
sod, and are kept "mulched" that Is,
a covering of manure, straw, grass, or
whatever is available, is' put around
them. As the grass in the orchard
grows it is cut with a mowing machine
and left to decay on the ground. It is
not cured and taken out as hay.
Manure, straw, or other 'organic mate
rial is hauled in' and spread oven the i
surface of the groiMI. The object of
this is to add organic matter to the
soil and prevent: the evaporation of
moisture. The thick covering of grass
and weed.s on the surface keeps the
soil cool and moist, giving an ideal'
condition for apple roots. The constant '
supply of n,umus or organic matter in
the soil holds moisture, while, its slow
decay aids somewiiat In making the
fertility in the soil .available: 'Under'
this eystern there is no loss of fertility"
except that removed in the crop ofap'
pies. The trees grown on this plan;
are peculiar in's"hjipo.: They do nQtas
a rule make as much Wood growth- a-s
the cultivated trees, and the limbs, ap
pear to sprawl out instead of growing
i itiii. JalL i . . '
erect, nut nine pruimi is uuiie-Ain-der
this system simply .cutting out
branches which feria to interfere nvlth
others. This "mulch method" must
not be confused with ordinary' t'sdd
culture," where the grass is ciit.'in-the-orchard
and hauled out, for hay, or
where hogs or sheep are pastured.' The
advantages of this mulch method are
evident. One man can -care , for a
large'numbcr of trees. It is avoII suited
to rough and steep hillside, which
makes excellent lox-ation' for applel,'
but can not bV cultivated at reasonable
expense. The fruit growu in this way
is firm and of high color of better
keeping quaiity usually than thrtt from
cultivated orchards. The chief objec
tion is the danger from fire whep-the
mulch is dry, though thlsj is not serious
at the season when such' fires are most
likely to occur.
r.
SOUTHERN
T9PKS OF INTEREST TO THE PLANTER, STOCKMAN AND TRUCK GROWER,
- tiki , . " "
Tlie Peach Tree Borer.
Recently we have received a number
of inquiries regarding the peach tree
borers an insect that in-Cone .of its
stages bores into thelo.we,r.part of the
stem of the peach tree and which in so
perating does a great deal'6f harm.'
The creature which thMs appears is
a speejes of moth, Saniiina exitiosa,
and the fact that it iso in possession
of the tree may be known by the large
quantities of gum exuded. Every tree
thus affected should be. suspected to be
fn the service of this gjaenjy.
The moth to' be held. responsible for
the business "appears most numerous
ly in August and September." . The
female is "of a steel, blue color, with
a bright yellow band about the middle
of t?ie body. The male is of" a' grayish
.color. . : w h k
"Unlike most moths, both sxes have
the Avings more or less transparent;
this gives them a close resemblance
to certain wasps, and such is especially
the case wifh the male. The, re
semblance is' rendered all the more
striking by the fact that these moths
fly in the hottest days- ofi summer."
f. The mating and laying of eggs may
:be assumed to be in, progress soon
after the moths are about; the eggs
being, as indicated, getting deposited
"on the trunks of the trees at, or near,
the- surface of the ground. Within a
week the ."eggs hatch into small white
caterpillars, which at once 'Uore in
through the bark to eat out tho. inner
bark and sap-wood." Here they stay'
until full grown, doing much damage
to the tree in fact, killing thousands
of trees every year.
Most of these borers reach full
growth in the spring after they are
hatched. They, the larvae, leave the
tree when they are full grown and spin
cocoons "under tlie surface of the earth
and within an inch or two of the stem
of the 'tree.
"During the summer one may easily
find the cocoons by searching for them
in the gum and earth around the bases
of the stems. They are a little over an
Inch in length, and are usually covered
with bits of dirt, chips and the like
Soon the larvae become a pupa, and
in two weeks fhe'moth appears and
the life-story reps-itself.
How is this enemy .of the peach tree
most successfully fought? It is soon
rifter being hatched inside :th'e bark,
tnd so is beyond the roach of poisonous
applications by spraying. . Experience
says thqt the moths must be kept from
the treses, for if not they will act in
accordance with, their instincts, and
then the tbrers are to be destroyed
while they are in the trees.
This, means that worming by hand
has to be uone, and so with all the nec
essary care, if the object sought is to
be really accomplished. In the present
part of the job the "earth is removed
to a depth of two or three inches. The
gum wh is thus exposed is scraped
away wui a kmte, and tne mjurea
bark cut off at the burrows. In these
burrows the larvae' must be found and
killed.- They are stout bodied, with
distinct, brownish-yellow heads."
It is necessary for a desiraJble. put-
come that the person entering upon
this work should be instructed in every
detail.. A stout knife is nETOed. Some
times it is found well "to have a short
piece of strong wire by nieah's$fjw,hr'ch
the laryae are reached 'hojjJhey are
so 4eep in their burrows as to e 'out
of reach of the knife."
That no unnecessary work may be
done, it is to be noted that "there are
certain very slender, whie . .worms,
Whi4.4i are .often found in the gum
oozing from the "base of injured trfces.
Thes.are.not the larvae of th'e'iehth
tree "borer." ' The slender white wfc-ms
' 'fit -A ... . . .
"tllMe circumstances in. no
way injure tne trees. ioiwe uj
tlmebt'killljjg them is wasteful ..... .
The peach tree borer mg-y- most ad
vantageously be attacked any time dur
ing winter. The .months of March is
regarijed by many 2he best month
ior me purpose, nuiuu-vi-tue
growers of peaches' "pfefeft-worm
of the "borers before these- have had
time to do much damage. "This is, of
cour'se; an advantage, butM trees are
wormed onqe. thorough'. each winter
and kept mounded during the summer,
one worming will usually' be- suf'
ficienfiT M .. ...-. ...
Regarding tha..devices introduced to
prereftthe mofbs from laying eggs, it'
is llmught' that though there may be
merit among these device-it yet is adr
vised that the principal dependence
be still "upon a thorough yearly sys
tem of worming by hand and mound
ing.''
And now as to this mounding part.
The Instruction is that "after the trees
have beori wtfrnietl in late winter, earth
should be banked yf1viarftVt thtT?t?ms
to a height of four or six inches above
the level of the ground. . '; "
."This compels the moths to lay their
crcrs hi nil on the trunks, where the
larVae can be reached when the iinQ
conies for worming. About Thanksgiv-..
Ing Day the mound is removed, as all
ejgs have then been deposited, and by
fARMT fiOTES.
d Et'.r t ' " .
removing the mound the'larva'e are left
exposed to the rigors of the winter..
Then when the trees are wormed again
in late winter the mounds are replaced.
Thus 'the trees are kept inound'ed from
MarGh to late in. November, and not
mounded from DecembereJWel be
ing .wormed during February or
March." '.' " '" .-. ' ' -
This is the' sort of work that requires
watchful intelligence, the sort which,
more or less will pay best in farming.
Home and Farm.
Baddlng and 'Graft! nc
There are very apt to be,times when L
it would be to the iiiterest of- overy:..
good farmer to know how to bud and
graft.
. The doing of these thiijfes;iis.,jipiple .
enough when once one has seen them
done by a person-who really knows
h'ow ' More help can be given in suck
cases by on.e object lesson, than by
many lessons firrnished ptherydse, antl
hence our advice to those wno wtul3f'u
best and most assuredly be informed
regarding these affairs is to go to ff
nursery and see the work donour
The principle to be observed in botK
budding and grafting is substantially, .
the same. The idea is to w pfo$li0V
parts to be joined that the or is
closely fitted to the other and so to be
held by tyfng or-otherwise "untSitthe
parts thus brought together become
united into one growth.
The ordinary play of the Mr' shquldj
be excluded until a union between the
parts sought to be joined tas actually"
ben formed.
In budding a bud is transferred from
one tree to another. This is done when
the bark on the tree from which the
bud is transferred and that to which it
is taken will separate from tie wood
peel, as it is said. " '-' ' -
A sharp knife there are fcnives made" .
for the purpose to do nice cutting is
required to open the wray to where the
bud is to be inserted, and also in se
moving the bud from its place of origin.
After the bud is inserted in its new:
place, the bark raised in giving it ad
mission is brought carefully and ''closely
around it, taking care that the bud pro
trudes above the tying.
There. are many different kinds f
grafting whip-grafting, " veneer-grafting,
side-grafting, inlaying, cleft-grafting,
bark-grafting, herbaceous-grafting,
seed.-grafting, cutting-grafting, inarch-ingdpuble-worklng.
. And" then the grafter uses what 13
commonly termed: wax in this service.
This is a mixture variously made, the
oliject of which, is to cover up and so
help the grafts. : ' '
. Whatever the k2sdof grafting, If la
always required tha bark must be .
joined to bark and" young" wood to
ypung.wood. . "'."''' " i '
Thus -yhen a scion: is joined to it .
branch of, tree larger than itself, it is
necessary to insertj it on one side of the
larger growtn. -i
Though grafting has to be of variou9
kinds to meet the many .different re"
quirements that appear, the rule stands
tiiat growths of 'corresponding age
must be brought together and kept to-
gether if-tfcere is to be successtin, thot
undertaking. ".. '
And then we know that ,tsortfe ' kinds
of plants can b ?'Vn d iif e d'-'W If o n per
feet unions is this ib(1 onie can
not. Plants-have their, affinities and
fixed antagonisms much "as "liave : ani-"
nials. Home and Farm. : ;"'".,.
3a"7TH '
Sunlight Meed, by Fruit. .
It is impos&fble"fBr5o'odtruit-to b
produced, and well colored-:nless tl,e
trees body, branches . and leaye aa
wellj as the ground surrounding themi "
he f uny. exposed to' the sunlight. Ever!
torctiaf should be carefully gpnar .oec :
eacn .year ana juuiciousiy prsanea jSO) ,
tht?t-air ljght will be. admittpi' '
Too much top, should not be left to
induce overbearing; tliis-tbviates'thQt.
necessity of cutting away large branch, .
es and adds! materially in procuring
first-class '-fruit.. . Southern Fruit
Grower. - ; '
Plowing and Spraying.. - ... ,
A Missouri fruit grower fn'aifallt tx
fore horticulturists said He flowed his ,
orchard four times each yearnd Ij e
spr,ayejd ,ljis tiees boutthe s,aie 'num
ber of times'. f any 'weoTts gV ew'in" the
orcl&rd' he1 mdwtfd flfew dft wn before
tttpy. form theft sevd"and lets, them rot
op. the. land. $furj3alize& large proiita
'from his'frults." ,' - '
' "- .
Prkm'l Deed-.yastlco."
'A story is told about Francis Tark
man, the histoffan'Svhk-h7 sfcbws that
in spite of impaired eyesight he wa3
not blind to injustice. -.A-4uixind met
him 'walking along the strong. folding;
two street boys by their coat' collars.
In reply,. to 3p s' friend's reqwMt for att
explanation r'arkma'u replied '.' "I found!
thisboy had, eaten an apple' without
(Hvidtogi -with his little,brQther. ' Now,
I'm goinll'to buy pne-ror the .little !.,
aiid make the big one look ou while ha
eats it; .
After reading this incfdtflt, we shoui I
expect fairness of treatment ia l'arL
man's histories. St, Kicbola.V.