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fi.oo a Year, In Advance.
FOR GOD, FOR COUNTRY AND FOR TRUTH."
Single Copy $ Cents,
VOL. X VII. ,
PLYMOUTH, N, C FRIDAY, MAY 18, 1906.
NO. 8
ilm
The Lion That Went
Through the Mill.
All that was l?ft of the one-time
nourishing' Point-View gold-mining
camp was a line of empty cabins, a
vast and vacant in ill. one Jack Ste
vens, with his wife and two children,
tin (I myself.
It was lonely in ihe deserted camp,
terribly so at times. The canon was
deep and narrow, and the twilight
early in the afternon gathered round
ihe dark spruces which lined the sides
f the creek. Yet the place had a
black and dreary grandeur of its own,
ihat held one in certan fascination.
We five mortals were sore put to it
at." times to find occupation which
, would take our minds from the fact
that we were cut off from the rest of
humanity. Every piece of necessary
work was elaborated and spun out
to the extreme limit. But of course it
would eventually come to an end, and
then we were obliged to invent some
task.
One- afternoon, ns we were busy
constructing a small water-mill, Jack
stopped in his whittling and tossed the
knife to his hoy, saying:
'This thing wouldn't, cut warm butter.-
Run over to the mill, Willie, and
uive it a rub on the grindstone. Sally,
you go, too, and turn the stone for
your brother."
The children trotted cheerfully off,
and were soon swallowed up in the
cavernous mill, while Jack and I sat
down to rest, watching the sunlight
creep up the eastern canon wall.
Suddenly shriek after shriek rang
out from within the mill. Jack fairly
flew in that direction, grabbing up an
ax as he ran.
I made for the cabin to get the rifle.
"Something wrong with the chil
dren!" I shouted to the astonished
Mrs. Stevens, as I dashed into the
house. I snatched up the rifle and
rushed out again, followed by the
frightened mother.
Half-way to the mill we met little
Sally. She was almost out of her wits
with frignt.
"What is it, dear? What is it?" ask
ed her mother, shaking her vigorously,
from excitement.
"Great big dog tried to tried to
jump on us!' cried the child between
gasps.
That was enough for me. I knew
there were no dogs round, but several
limes lately we had heard the squalling
f a mountain-lion close at hand, and
had also seen the priuts of his padded
fret in the nol't earth of the creek
banks. We paid little attention to
these signs, for the puraa. generally
.speaking, is a cowardly brute, witll
but little stomach for attacking a
strong foe, unless urged on . by the
pangs of hunger. Then, however, with
bis great strength and agility, he be
comes a very formidable antagonist
indeed.
"Evidently." I thought, "the brute
has made his den in the mill, where
there are so many nooks and crannies
that he could stay a year without our
being a whit the wiser, unless he chose
to reveal himself."
By the time I had this reasoned out
I was at the door of the building.
"Where are you, Jack?" I called, for
it was dark as pitch in there, and at
first I could see nothing.
"J lore by the first set of stamps.
Got the gun?"
"Yes, indeed! What happened?"
"Willie says that he and Sally were
sharpening the knife, when they heard
a noise and looking up, saw on the
blacksmith's bench a "
"Great bfg yaller animal!" burst in
Willie. "Most as big as a horse. And
he began to lcind o' wriggle his nose
at us an' holler, and Sally she screech
ed, an' I picked up the knife an' got.
ready for him. But he didn't like the
T,oise that Sally made, I reckon, for
he jumped clean over the boiler, an'
he's in behind there somewhere now."
This little story without stops was
effective.
"Weren't you scared. Willie?" I
asked, father in awe of the youngster.
"Well kind o'," he admitted.. "But
I was going to stay with him just the
same."
"fJretty sandy boy, eh?" said Jack,
with fatherly pride.
"Well, I should say so! But what
do you think it was, Jack mountain
lion?" "Sure."
"What are you going to do?"
"pig him Out," responded Jack,
promptly. .
"Um!" said I.
"What's the matter? Ain't afraid,
are .you?"
"No no. Not at all," I answered,
earnestly. '"Of course not. Why
boulcl I fee. The worst, that he could
do would be to scatter me all over
ths mill. To be sure, I should prefer
a more collected end, as it were.
What's you ; lan of campaign?"
"Why, Yvillie will run up to the
cabin and get some candles and my
tix-sho'jter, and then we'll drive him
into a corner and plug him full of
k "a
By
HEHRY WALLACE PHILLIPS.
VI '4 A
I whistled.
"Well," said Jack, "don't you ap
prove of the idea?"
"Approve?- Approve of chasing a
full-grown puma through this mess
of stamps and beams and truck by
candle-light? Why, I think it is noth
ing less than genius which suggests
the scheme. The only thing that I
don't like is the idea of shooting him
when we get him cornered or he gets
us cornered, as the case may be. I
think it would be more sportsmanlike
to take him by the tail and snap his
head off."
"Oh, quit your nonsense!" said
Jack. "We can handle him all right.
Now, Willie, hustle up to the house
and get a handful of candles and my
revolver. See that every chamber is
loaded and fetch a box of cartridges
besides. Tell you ma that we've got
the hunt of our lives on hand. Skip
now, son!"
Away went Willie in great glee. It
seems that he got the needful article
without attracting his mother's atten
tion until it was too late for her to
interfere; he had a well-grounded sus
picion that she would enter a protest.
I tried to convince Jack that it
would be the part of wisdom to wait
for daylight, but he refused to listen.
Jack was one of the best-hearted fel
lowers in the world, but he possessed
a lack of caution which was very ir
ritating to more intelligent people.
Willie returued only too soon with
the munitions of war, and we began
our preparations.
"Are you going to get that candle
lighted?" asked Jack impatiently.
I felt like answering, "Not if I can
help myself," but I withstood the
temptation, and said instead:
"It's the funniest candle T ever saw.
I think it must be made of marble.
Match doesn't seem to have any effect
on it."
"That's 'cause your hand jiggles so,"
remarked Willie.
I bent a stern brow on the young
man. "Willie," said I, "is it possible
that you can make sport of the nervous
agitation brought on by the knowledge
of the danger through which you have
just passed?"
"Beg your pardon," said Willie hum
bly. Then I heard a sound that cheered
my drooping soul. The mill door
which Willie had closed save us! so
that the lion could not get out, was
opened, and a feminine voice shrilled
through the echoing building with:
"Jack Stevens, come right out of
there, and Willie, and you, too, Henry!
I never heard of such foolishness!
Come but, I say!"
"Look out, Mollie! Shut the door,
quick! There he comes!" yelled Jack,
in well-simulated fright.
Slam! went the door, and a rapid
pattering of feet showed that my only
ally bad deserted me. Then the hunt
began.
It is a strange fact by nature that,
the man w-ho is the least interested in
an occasion of this kind is always the
one who finds the quarry. This time
went by the rule I discovered the
mountain-lion.
We had poked around for about a
quarter of an hour, with the candle
shadows flitting strangely and un
pleasantly about, and the foolish
notion entered my brain that perhaps
the lion was only a creation of the
children's imagination; therefore I re
laxed my vigilant guard of the rear
and plunged carelessly ahead. As I
stooped to pass under one of the big
braces of the mill, a yell as of forty
seven demented Sioux Indians assault;
ed my ear-drums, and I was knocked
on the flat of my back in a twinkling.
"There he goes!" yelled Jack. "Are
you hurt, Henry?"
"Oh, no!" I answered, cheerfully.
"Nothing but a fractured skull and a
few dislocated vertebrae. I hope the
lion hasn't crippled himself. 'Twould
be too bad to spoil the fun right at the
Start."
"Come on! Come on!" howled Jack.
"Don't lie there talking!" And with
that he and Willie tore after the flee
ing beast.
The chase led up the rickety steps
to the second floor of the mill. The
lion made it in two jumps and Jack
in four. I took it in a dignified one
step at a time, not being in so much
of a hurry. The scene which presented
itself to my gaze as my head rose
above the floor was a lively one.
The big cat, crazy with fright, bound
ed round the place in great leaps.
After him went Jack and Willie, wild
ly excited and without any thought of
possible consequences. All myself in
cluded, as I found to my astonishment
were screeching and yelling their
loudest.
The dust rose in stifling clouds from
beneath the hurrying feet. The lion
scrambled up one side of the mill, and
galloped ac ross the .beams toward me.
'He:ul him off.' Head hini off!"
shrieked Jack.
I let six bullets fly in the general
direction of the animal before one
could say "scat." I didn't hit him but
the fountain of fire and noise caused
him to change his mind.
He stopped midway between ua,
throwing quick glances first at one.
then the other. He was a beautiful
shot, as he stood there, but the last
shell had jammed in the gun, and I
couldn't get it out to save me. As I
tugged at the ejector Jack began to
howl:
"Shoot! Shoot! You idiot! Why
don't you shoot?" he waved his revol
ver over his head in a frenzy.
I dropped my rifle and regarded him
calmly. "Think a moment," said I.
"What's that in your right hand?"
He brought his hand down and look
ed at it. Then, I g,m pleased to state,
he looked exceedingly foolish. "Oh!"
said he, and pulled up to fire.
Before the hammer fell, though, the
cat had jumped one last beautiful
spring of at least forty feet, right
down into the open door of an ore
chute that seemed to present a means
of escape.
He landed fairly in the opening.
There was a scratching and flurry, and
then he slipped down to the floor be
low. With a whoop of triumph Jack and I
rushed to the chute. He was our cap
tive now, beyond peradventure, as the
chute, a mere box of wood, about four
feet square, that led from the top
floor of the mill to the stamp floor be
neath us, was closed at its lower end
by a hopper-shaped spout with an
opening too small for anything larger
than a house cat to crawl through.
The upper part of the chute, that
portion above the door, was filled with
partially crushed ore, which had jam
med instead of sliding down, as it
should have done. We were ready at
the doorway, in case the brute man
aged to crawl up the nearly perpen
dicular sides. Thus his escape was
cut off in every direction.
We bent eagerly over the doorway,
and peered own through the dark
ness at our victim. There he was, his
eyes shining green in the candle-light,
growling and sputtering.
As, rifle in hand, I leaned to get a
better view, I lost my balance, and
nearly pitched head first down to that
incarnation of fury below. I struck
out vigorously to recover myself, and
in the flurry managed to discharge the
rifle. The bullet smashed into the ore
in the top of the chute. . In an instant
the whole mass, released by the shock
of the bullet, slid down the chute with
a dull roar. Clouds of dust puffed out
into our faces, covering us with a
coat of grime. There came a squawk
from beneath us.
"Hooray!" said Jack. "Now we ha e
got, him."
As there was about five tons of dirt
pressing down on the beast, I. accept
ed the conclusion.
After the jubliation of victory came,
a council of war. Should we leave our
victim to die a prolonged death from
suffocation, or pull a board off and
give him a more merciful end by bul
let? While we were arguing a bril
liant thought came to me.
"Why not take him alive?" said I.
"Old Bronson, up at Deadwood, would
give twenty dollars for such an addi
tion to his menagerie."
That caught Jack immediately. We
needed the money, for one thing, and
then there was something novel in
capturing a living puma.
We rushed down stairs and started
to hunt up material for a cage. For
tune favored us. We soon found a
strong crate, in which machinery had
been shipped, that with a little chang
ing served the purpose well. We put
the open end of this over the mouth
of the hopper; then, working with a
crowbar between the slats, we pried
the top board off the hopper.
A little round patch of jellow head
showed above the smooth surface of
the dirt. We dug round it with'sticks
until at last we had the whole head
uncovered. At first we thought the
brute was dead, but soon he opened
his eyes and gazed about him.
His expression was meek and hum
ble. Indeed his experiences were
enough to break the proudest spirit.
It was impossible for him to move in
the closely packed earth.
Then we fell to work, and completed
the excavation. When at last the
puma was free, he shook himself vi
gorously, walked into the cage and lav
down. He paid no attention while we
moved the cage out and nailed the
front on.
Willie and Jack went out to bring
Mrs. Stevens in. We had completely
forgotten that the coating of dirt al
tered our appearance remarkably.
Therefore Jack didn't know what to
make of it when his wife, after cast
ing a glace upon him, gave one pierc
ing shriek and shut herself up in the
closet. It took some time for Jack to
convince her that he was of a verity
her husband, and not some strange,
new kind of Indian. Then she and
Jack and Willie and Sally marched in
to the mill.
Now I had watched the beast and
can testify that be never moved a
muscle. We all stood round the cage,
wondering and admiring. The puma
certainly was a fine animal. His body
must have measured four feet.
"He's been as quiet as a cow- ever
since we caged him," said Jack.
"Dear me.ysn't that strange!" said
Mrs. Stevens. "I should have thought
that he would have raised ructions."
At. that moment," as if the words had
convinced the animal that he was not
acting a proper part, he sprang to his
feet with a yell that stopped our cir
culation. Jack, the hitherto unterrified, grab
bed his wife and jumped backward.
Willie and Sally ran behind their pa
rents. I was too astonished to move
and watched open-mouthed.
The puma went ramping, tearing
mad. He bit and tore at the cage
with such speed and fury that he roll
ed it over the place, snarling, growl
ing, coughing and roaring, until it
seemed that all the unpleasant noises
of the world had been let loose in the
mill.
The cage was fairly strong, but it
was never intended to hold such a
compound of active volcano and con
centrated tornado a3 now raged in its
midst. There came a sharp crackling;
some slats flew across the floor; then,
with a farewell yell, the puma sprang
over the heads of Jack and his family
and vanished through the open door
of the mill.
"There goes our twenty dollars," said
I, as soon as I wa.s in a condition to
speak.
"Yes," piped up Willie, in a tone
that showed his disappointment, "and
I don't believe he'll ever come back
again, either." This was a true word.
He never did. Youth's Companion.
A STREET SIGN HINT.
How Minor and Multifold Things Can
Be Made Objects of Art.
Minor and multifold things, like
street signs, can be made objects of
art, however simple their character.
Care may easily be had to give them
proper proportions, an agreeable
color compatible with legibility and
good lettering. In the case of way
side guide-boards there is yet further
opportunity to make them attractive
in design. In Boston, when street
signs stand detached from buildings,
a pleasant decorative effect is given
by some simple wrought-iron scroll
work in the angle between board and
post.
In many parts of Boston arc to be
seen bronze tablets with appropriate
inscriptions, marking some historic
building or commemorating some not
able eveut. Certain patriotic orders,
like the Sons of the Revolution, have
made the placing of such tablets one
of their duties. In various New Eng
land communities local historic socie
ties mark notable sites in a similar
way, perhaps at first with painted
legends, to be replaced, when means
permit, by inscriptions more enduring.
This service might well be extended.
Street, names often bear intimate re
lations with local history, but for lack
of record the circumstances of their
designation are likely to be forgot
ten. Here, then, is a rich field of
work for local societies, in placing in
each street that bears a name of his
torical purport an inscription giving
the facts of the case. Lincoln street,
in Boston, for instance, might now
commonly be supposed to be named
in honor of the great President. But
a suitable inscription would recite
the fact that the name was given, on
such a date in honor of Levi Lincoln,
governor of the commonwealth, etc.
On School street the inscription
would be to the effect that the first
public Latin school in America stood
there. In such ways the streets of
a town could be made a veritable
book for the public, in which literally
they that run might read. These tab
lets could be given attractive shape,
as simple or as ornate as desired, and
perhaps fashioned after some stand
ard design, as street signs are. Or.
where the street bears th name of a
person of note, the tablet might in
clude a medallion portrait in low re
lief. The thoroughfare itself would
thereby more fully serve the function
of a commemorative monument. In
scriptions might at first le affixed in
temporary shape, gradually to be re
produced in bronze, perhaps a certain
number each year. Such a work
would add greatly to the interest of
a place. Particularly in uie oiuei
parts of the country, as in New Eng
land, the historic character of which
attracts tourists from other parts of
the country in increasing numbers
every year, it would be a remunera
tive outlay for a community to under
fake the task as completely as pos
sible. From Sylvester Baxter's "Art
in the Street" in the Century.
When the Dog Runs Sideways.
"Look at that dog," said an obser-
vant man this morning. "That dogs
lost. How do I know? He's running
sideways, with his tail down low and
his ears drooping. That dog's lost."
The wanderer, looking for a friendly
face, a horse; or a wagon that he recog
nized, took a course down Grand av
enue which a tactician would call
right oblique. He dodged street cars
and drays and sprang, yelping, into
a doorway when a messenger boy
came along. A man came out of the
door and patted the dog's head, and
the dog, instinctively knowing that
the man was a friend, followed him
joyfully down the street, looking up
and smiling and wagging his tail at
every jump. British Australian.
r
SOUTHERN
TOPICS OF INTEREST TO THE PLANTER, STOCKMAN AND TRUCK GHOHtER.
Cli urn iiia:.
Of the numerous styles of churns on
the market, there is none better for
the small dairyman than the barrel
churn. Before adding the cream, the
churn should be scalded with hot wa
ter and then rinsed with cold water.
This will freshen the churn and till
up the pores of the wood with water
so that the cream and butter will not
stick. The churning temperature
should be such that the cream will
churn in from thirty to forty-five min
utes. Strain the cream into the churn,
as this removes the possibility of white
specks in the butter, which usually
consist of curd or dried particles of
cream. The amount of color to bo
added is determined by the demands
of the market. Color the butter to
suit your customers.
Butter should be churned until the
granules are about half the size of
a pea. When larger than this it is
difficult to remove the buttermilk and
distribute the salt. When smaller,
some of. the fine grains are liable to
pass out with the buttermilk. When
the granules have reached the right
size, cold water should be added to
the churn to cause the butter to float.
Salt will answer the same purpose.
The churn is now given a. few revolu
tions and the butter drawn off.
After the buttermilk has been thor
oughly removed, cold water is added
to the butter and the churn revolved
a few times. This amount of washing
usually suffices. As soon as the wash
water has drained away, add fine dairy
salt at the rate of about one ounce
per pound of butter and revolve the
churn eight or ten times to thoroughly
distribute the salt. Where only a
small amount of butter is made, the
butter may be worked with a ladle in
the churn. For larger amounts it is
desirable, however, to have a separate
worker.
Butter is preferably worked twice.
The first time, it is worked just enough
to fairly incorporate the salt. It is
then allowed to stand six or eight
hours, after which white streaks are
usually noticeable on cutting the but
ter with a string. The second working
should cease as soon as these streaks
or mottles have been removed.
In small dairies where only a few
churnings are made weekly, care
should be taken never to mix sweet
and sour cream just before churning.
This always results in a heavy loss
of fat. in the buttermilk on account of
the difference in the churnability of
sweet and sour cream.
A common difficulty in churning is
to get the cream to churn in a reason
able length of time. This trouble may
be due to one or more of the following
causes: too thin cream, too sweet
cream, too high or too low speed of
churn, too low temperature, colostrum
milk, and milk from strippers, or cows
far advanced in lactation. John Mi
ehels, Clemson College, S. C, in the
Southern Farm.
Seertlng Clover.
The highest success in farming in
variably includes the legumes as a
pari of the carefully developed system
of crop rotation. The Middle South is
especially fortunate in having both
summer and winter legumes, which
are of the highest excellence. We are
all realizing the value of the eowpea
plant, but there is an astonishingly
limited number who are employing I lie
clover plant as an aid to soil improve
ment and food production.
We are now at the season for seed
ing common red clover and crimson
clover. Bed clover, of course, can be
seeded in February and March, and
even as late as April, and very suc
cessfully done at these seasons of the
year. Bur. crimson clover is n fall
seeding plant. It should go in not
later than the middle of October, if
possible. I r.m frequently asked, should
one plow the soil as a preparation for
any of the clovers? I am satisfied be
yond a single doubt that nine times
out of ten better stands will be ob
tained if the land is not plowed, but
simply harrowed with a disk barrow,
or any sort of a harrow, and stir up
and loosen the top soil. In fact, it is
the general practice in seeding small
seeds in put the same in a soil that is
thoroughly compacted. Seeds as largo
as wheat, for instance, will do better
in a thoroughly compacted seed bed
tlinn in a loose open seed-bed. For
this lvason we believe that seeding
wheat with a disk burrow is far more
satisfactory than with a plow. Crim
son clover should be seeded on a com
pact soil. Corn land, cotton land or
cow -pea land, any of these crops may
precede Hover, and the only prepara
tion needed is a thorough harrowing, so
as to give the seed a covering.
The Hover plant is always a good
fulvsoiier. and if the soil is not acid
and a gd stand is obtained a good
feeding with phosphorus and potas
sium, the clover roots will go down in
the -nb-soii and loosen it up and put
that same soil in a good condition for
tli2 crop that is to come on. next
fIRM fOJES.
spring. The clover, therefore, is tht?
most economical institution for sub
soiling hinds. If constantly employed,
clover will do it effectively, safely and
profitably.
Now, aside from crimson clover as a
soil improver, you will get plenty of
good feeding stuff for next spring, and
tins is something that every Southern
farmer must carefully consider. We
have to buy too much hay and grain
not to grow what we can produce.
While crimson clover is not a very
satisfactory feed for horses, and should
not be given to them in any regular
manner, on account of the fibre in the
bead, still it is one of the best rough
age foods that we have for cattle and
sheep, and is also an excellent grazing
crop for hogs. C. W. Burkett, in the
I'rogressive Farmer.
Feeding Hoot Crop.
The raising and feeding of root crops
is not appreciated in the South. We
think turnips, potatoes and beets ore
nearly all water, and do not stop to
consider that milk is So per cent, wa
ter, also. As milk producers, turnips,
beets and potatoes cannot be excelled.
We have always wondered why North
ern stockmen and English stock-raisers
paid so much attention to the root
crop; we thought it was due to their
climatic conditions and to no worth or
merit in the root crop. However, in
the winter time, we have often fed
sweet potatoes and turnips our cows
and noticed the increased flow of milk.
Still, we were blind and considered
this wholly due to lack of green food
at this season, and thought their merit
due to aiding the digestion of the dry
food. Within the last month our eyes
have been opened, and it came about
this way: We have been digging onr
sweet potatoes, a few rows at a time,
to sell in the market. We feed the
vines to our cows and hogs. We fouud
the vines to increase the flow of milk
some. But having tnore small potatoes
than the hogs could well dispose of,
and being without any other food at
ihe time, we gave our milk cows about
a peck of potatoes and a gallon of
bran ow night, and expected to havef
the cows fall off in milk in conse
quence of their short ration, but to oni
surprise they increased. Our regula
feed has been cut corn, bran and rot
tonseed meal. This is very fine, bu
my cows will leave this food in thei
troughs, and go to a barrel of strin,
potatoes and devour them greedily.
They will do the same with turnips c
beets. We are thoroughly convince
that it will pay our dairymen to p!ai
sweet potatoes, turnips and niang
beets for their cows. If you do not b
Hove it, just try it on a small seal
and convince yourselves. We adv
eate. the building of silos, and they n
corrainlv a fine thins:, but we all
advocate a cellar or silo full of roof
. 1 , X - V !
joi your uair.v cows. :ou van it-
them until Christmas fight from t
field and save your silage two mont
longer. G. F. Ilunnicutt.
Makiiej Clinnp fllllk nl Rn tT.
Large amounts of timothy hay
often fed to dairy cows because i
thought to be a very rich and nour
ing foodstuff, but in experiments ni
with twenty-four cows at the staf
last winter, it would seem that sli
dod stover when well made and i
served can often be used to replace
tiniothv hav to advantage. As 1
otiiy hay brings from .$10 to $15 a
on the market and shredded stove
practically a waste product on
farm, the economy of utilizing the
tor is apparent to all.
There is another question of rf
than passing interest to the dairy if
and that is the balancing up off
ration with some concentrate ricf
protein. Gluten meal and cottons!
meal were fed on the basis of
content of digestible protein for
purpose and provided the market
is the same per pound of digc
protein, there is little to Hums
twecn the two, except that the
meal was not as readily eatrn h
cows and it made the butter-fat
whereas, cottonseed-nieal was r
eaten and increases the melting
of butter, which gives it a decid
vantage i'r feeding in summer.
These results show that the
basis of comparing foodstuffs
cording to the amount of 'di.
protein they contain. It is tic
parent that farmers often niai
mistake of feeding wheat-bran
contains only twelve per cent,
gestible protein, as compared
cottonseed-meal, which, when
contains 37.2 per cent, of die
protein. As cottonseed-meal and I
bran can often be bought at pr;f
iy the same price, the farmer wl
wh?at bran pays three times a.f
for the digestible protein eontaf
the farmer who utilizes colli
meal. Andrew M. Soule, De;
Director Va. Fx. Station. I
New Haven has a buehelti
which was orgsnibzed to repel
kind.