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The Madison journal. (Tallulah, Madison Parish, La.) 1888-current, January 18, 1913, Image 3

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Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn88064430/1913-01-18/ed-1/seq-3/

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ZIARCflN
Au thow ce
CyjWhittakce'e Place
Capin li, Etc.
Zuswort ioa by
Ellsworth You
SYNOPSIS.
t
Kesiah Coffin. supposed widow, is
ns to move from Trumet to Boe
oilowing the death of her brother. r
whom she had kept house. Kyan
widower, offers marriage, and is
tly refused. Capt. Elkanah Dan
leader of the Regular church offers
a place as housekeeper for the I
minister, and she decides to remain I
frumet. Keslah takes charge of Rev.
Ellery. the new minister, and gives
advice as to his conduct toward e
bers of the parish. Ellery causes a
ion by attending a "Come-outer"
. Ellery's presence is bitterly re- a
by Eben Hammond. leader of the
tag. Grace apologises for her
and Ellery escorts her home in a
amin. Capt. Nat Hammond. Eben's
becomes a hero by bringing the
into port safely through fog and a
Ellery finds Keziah writing a let
ts some one, inclosing money In re
to a demand. She curiouslyt
when informed of the arrival of f
Nat calls on Kestah, and it devel
that they have been lovers since
Daniels remonstrates with Ellery ,
satnding "Come-outer" meeting. El
is caught by the tide and is rescued
Nat. They become friends.
CHAPTER VII.-(Contlnued.)
lire enough; one of the windows
this side of the house was raised
t six inches at the bottom, the
was up, and peering beneath the 1
the minister discerned the ex
ye features of Abishai Pepper
as much of those features as the
of the opening permitted to be
Obh!" exclaimed the visitor, "is that
Mr. Pepper? Well, I'm glad to
you, at last. You are rather hard
-se, even now."
,,.-.er-.come to call, did you'?"
".Why, yes, that was my intention."
"Hum! Er--er-Laviny, she's gone
to Thankful Payne's. She heard
Thankful's cousin up to Middle
had died-passed away, I mean
she thought she'd run over and
out if Thankful was willed any
Shbe said she'd be back pretty
al."
"Very well. Then, as she won't be
long, perhaps Ill come in and
.TeYu see, Mr. Ellery," stammered
"I-I'd like to have you come in
rate, but-er-Laviny she's got
bhy. She-she- Oh, consarn it
Mr. Ellery, she's locked me in this
a-purpose, so's I won't get out
Sgo somewheres without her know
3.
'"w done it a-purpose," continued
in a burst of confidence. "She
IM put one of them new-fangled
locks on the door of this room
day, 'eause she said she was
of tramps and wanted some
to abat herself up in if one of
%ra ms. A d-nd after dinner to
il de seat me in here for somethin'
rl them slammed the door on me.
SM6 she callated I'd stay put till she
t heck from Thankful's. She knew
well I couldn't get out of the
kow, 'cause it won't open no
tern 'tls now. I wa'n't never so
in my life. T"ain't no way to
year own brother, lockin' him up
a ioaug one; now, is it?"
"I dIat know. You're of age, Mr.
, and you must decide for your
I think I should declare my inde
Really, I must go. I-"
ยท,'i your foolishness! Oh!-I-I
yeor pardon, Mr. Ellery. That
so way to talk to a minister. But
gina' to go out when I want to if
eelt a hole through the clapboards.
a't feesinatin'. You ask any wom
eept her-if I be, and see what
say. What'll I do?"
"ha, ha! I don't know, I'm sure. You
lock her up, I suppose, Just for
1 h1nage."
"Hey!" There was a sound from be
the pane as if the imprisoned one
sapped his knee. "By gumi I
thought of that. Would you
;,W, Mr. Ellery? Would you? Bshh!
AhM! somebody's comin'. Maybe it's
Rua around to the door, Mr. El
Squick. And don't tell her I've
pou, for mercy sakes! Don't
, will ye? Pleasel Run!"
The minislter did not ran, but he
briskly around the corner.
enough. aIvinla was there, Jufst
the door. She expressed her
as very glad to see the caller,
him Into the sitting room and
,returning in another me
with her brother, whom she an
y said had been taking a nap.
did not contradict her; in
he merely loohed apprehensie
the minister.
call was a short one. Iavinsa
emtvenighths of the talkig and
the rest. Kyan was silent
told no one of Kyan's conS
disclosure, and, after some
on as to whether or not there
hbe a sequel, put the whole l
affair aout of his mind. A week
the following Sunday he dined in
St the Dartielg' table. Captain
was gracious and condesoend
Annahel was more than that.
Was dressed in her newest gown
swae e very gushing and afftable
the mintalster felt rather embasr
When, after the meal was
,Oatan Elkansh excused himself
Wat upstairs for his Sabbath nap,
hmarrssment redoubled. Miss
spoke very confidenttally of
lelies without "congenial so
." et how very much she did ea
Mr. Ellery's intellectual sermons,
eopeally what a trmeat It had been
- him as a guest
left the big house uas soon as be
without giving offense, and
back toward the parsonage.
the afternoon was so fine and the
eummr air so delightful that
ed s mind and. Juamping the
at the foot of Cannon Hill, set
As the felds toward the bluffs
the bay shore.
m was low in the west as he
the tve of pines on the blau.
,a light between the boughs
Shi t arpet patterst n h
he
thick pine needles and the smell was th
balsamy and sweet. Between the tree
trunks he caught glimpses of the ca
fiats, now partially covered, and they uc
reminded him of his narrow escape
and of Nat Hammond, his rescuer. ni
Thinking of the Hammond family H
reminded him of another member of th
it. Not that he needed to be remind
ed; he had thought of her often w
enough since she ran away from him sa
in the rain that night. And then he n(
saw her. She was standing just at the di
outer edge of the grove, leaning hi
against a tree and looking toward the tb
sunset. She wore a simple white dress hi
and her hat hung upon her shoulders tI
by its ribbons. The rosy light edged ri
the white gown with pink and the
fringes of her dark hair were crinkly gi
lines of fire. Her face was grave, al- w
most sad.
John Ellery stood still, with one foot I
uplifted for a step. The girl looked ul
out over the water and be looked at A
her. Then a crow, one' of several B
whirling above the pines, spied the in- m
truder and screamed a warning. The m
minister was startled and stepped
back. A dead limb beneath his foot
cracked sharply. Grace turned and K
saw him. tc
Oh!" she cried. "Who is it'" t
Ellery emerged from the shadow. u
"Don't be frightened, Miss Van i
Horne," he said. "It is-er-I."
"You came to see the sunset, I
suppose?" she said hurriedly, as if to
head off a question. "So did I. It is
a beautiful evening for a walk, isn't
it?"
She had said precisely the same
thing on that other evening, when
they stood in the middle of "Ham
mond's Turnoff" in the driving rain.
He remembered it, and so, evidently,
did she, for she colored slightly and e
smiled. a
"I mean it this time," she said. "I'm o
glad you didn't get cold from your p
wetting the other day."
"Oh! I wasn't very wet. You
I wouldn't let me lend you the umbrella, tj
1 so I had that to protect me on the way y
t home."
"Not then; I meant the other morn- I
6 ing when Nat-Cap'n Hammond-met I
you on the fiats. He said you were t
wading the main channel and it was g
over your boots." a
1 "It was worse than that, a good deal '1
Sworse. It might have been my last b
Scruise. I'm pretty certain that I owe a
2 the captain my life. That part of the c
I channel I proposed swimming was ex- I
actly where two men have been
drowned, so people say. I'm not a
very strong swimmer, and they were. C
So, you see." t
Grace cried out in astonishment. I
e "Oh!" she exclaimed. Then point
Sling toward the bay, she asked: "Out
e there, by the end of that leader, was 1
Sit?"
S"Yes, that was it."
o She drew a long breath. Then, after
Pa moment:
"And Nat spoke as if it was all a
r. joke," she said.
r "No doubt he did. From what I hear
of your brother, be generally refers to
his own plucky, capable actions as
jokes. Other people call them some
Lt thing else."
"He isn't my brother," she inter
I rnpted absently. "I wish he was."
`. She sighed as she uttered the last
s sentence.
Lt "No, of course he isn't your real
brother; I forgot. But be must seem
u like one "
Pt "Yes," rather doubtfully.
"You must be proud of him."
S"I am." there was nothing doubtful
a this time.
I "Miss Van Horne! What did your
U uncle say about Cap'n Nat's meeting
me the other day?"
. "Uncle Eben doesn't know. Nat
1- didn't tell anyone but me. He doesn't
e boast. And uncle would be glad he
't helped you. As I told you before, Mr.
Ellery, I'm not ashamed of my oncle.
* He has been so good to me that I nev
er can repay him, neverl When my
t own father was drowned he took me
in, a little orphan that would prob
' ably have been sent to a home. When
d he needed money most he said nothing
eto. me, but insisted that I should be
a- educated. I didn't know until after
P. wards oft the self-sacrile my four
" years at the Middleboro Academy
'" meant to him."
"So you went away to school'" be
la mused. "This I. why-"
ad "That is why I don't say 'never done
nothln" and 'be you' and 'hain't
" neither.' Yes, thank you, that's why.
s I don't wonder you were surprised."
S She was going, but the minister had
something to say. He stepped forward
ik and walked beside her.
in "Just a minute, please," he urged.
In "Miss Van Horne, I do understand. I
d- do respect your uncle. We have a mu
it. tual friend. you and I, and through her
mI have come to understand many
1E things."
S Grace turned and looked at him.
as "A mutual friend?" she repeated.
af "Oh, I know. Mrs. Coffin?"
LP. "Yes; Mrs. Coffn. She's a good
5 woman and a wise one."
of "I know. I feel the same way about
Sher. She means so much to me. I
- love her more than anyone else in the
1s, world, except uncle, tof cou nd
n Nat. I miss her very much sdance
since-"
he 'btnce I came, yea mesa. 'm sony.
ad I wish--I hate to thtk l a the cause
Pe. which separates y tw. It i't my
he fault, as yo knew."
at "Oh! I know that."
he "Yes, and I object to having others
et choose my friends for me people who,
rs because of a fanatical prejun ce, stand
in th way of- If it wasn't for that.
he you might call and see Mrs Coffin,
i. just as you used to do."
ha "But it's impossible Uncle respects
hend in fod of Aunt Leslah. but he
wouldn't bear of my visiting the par. hol
sonage." tie
She was close to the overhanging ha
edge of the bluff and the sod upon dil
which she stood was bending beneath ph
her feet. He sprang forward, caught me
her about the waist, and pulled her ret
back. The sod broke and rattled he
down the sandy slope. She would have bht
had a slight tumble, nothing worse, ye
had she gone with it. There was no
danger; and yet the minister was very
white as he released her. Th
She, too, was pale for a moment,
and then crimson. go
"Thank you," she gasped. "--I Its
must go. It Is late. I didn't realize
how late it was. I-I must go. I-I la
think the sunsets from this point are ilt
the finest I have ever seen. I come wt
here every Sunday afternoon to see ga
them." on
This remark was given merely to Pe
cover embarrassment, but it had an
unexpected effect. al
"You do?" cried the minister. The st
next moment he was alone. Grace Van Y
Home had vanished in the gloom of di
the pine thickets.
It was a strange John Ellery who 81
walked slowly back along the path. He tlc
saw nothing real, and heard nothing, In
not even the excited person who, hid- gc
den behind the bayberry bush, hailed al
him as he passed. It was not until
this person rushed forth and seined yP
him by the arm that he came back to
the unimportant affairs of this mate- p
rial earth. at
"Why! Why, Mr. Pepper!" be at
gasped. "Are you here? What do you a
want?" b
"Am I here?" panted Kyan. "Ain't
I been here for the last twenty min- gi
utes waitin' to get a chance at you?
Ain't I been chasin' you from Dan to tI
Beersheby all this dummed-excuse
me-afternoon? Oh, my godfreys d
mighty!" ti
"Why, what's the matter?"
"You-you made me do it," guarded "
Kyan. "Yes, sir, 'twas you put me up it
to it. When you was at our house w
t'other day, after Laviny locked me I
up, you told me the way to get square ii
was to lock her up, too. And I done a
It! Yes, sir, I done it when she got 9
back from meetin' this noon. I run d
off and left her locked in. And-and" g
-he wailed, wringing his hands- "I w
-I ain't dast to go home sence. w
What'll I do?" a
tl
CHAPTER VIII. d
- T
In Which Miss Daniels Determines to sa
Find Out. t
The hysterical Mr. Pepper doubtless -
expected his clergyman to be almost t
as much upset as he was by the news s
I of his action. But John Ellery was I
provokingly calm.
"Hush! Hush!" he commanded.
S"Wait a minute. Let me understand p
this thing. Some one is locked up, g
you say. Who is it? Where-"-"
"Who is it? Ain't I tellin' you. It's a
Laviny. She went into that spare room a
t where I was t'other day and I slammed
the spring lock to on her. Then I t
a grabbed the key and run. That was c
afore three this afternoon; now it's
I 'most night and I ain't dast to go
t home. What'll she say when I let her t
s out? I got to let her out, ain't I? She
e can't starve to death in there, can
she? And you told me to do it! You
n did! Oh-"
I "Well, then, I don't see why you
Scan't go home and-hum-I don't like
to advise your telling a Ble, but you
might let her infer that it was an ac-t
cident. Or, if you really mean to be
,t your own master, you can tell her you
a did it purposely and will do it again if
she ever tries the trick on you."
"I tell her that! I tell her! 0 Mr.
Ellery, don't talk so. You don't know
Laviny; she ain't like most women.
If I should tell her that she'd-I don't
know's she wouldn't take and horse
whip me. Or commit suicide. 8he's
said she would afore now if-lf-"
"Nonsensel She won't do that, you
needn't worry." He burst into anoth
er laugh, but checked himself, as he
saw the look of ahebsoluate distress on
Spoor Kyan's faoe.
"Nevr mind, Mr. Pepper," he sid.
"Well think of some plan to smooth
matters over. I'll go home with you
Snow and we'll let her out together."
The little house was dark and stilf
as they approached itl
They entered. The dining room was
dark and quiet. So was the sitting
room. The clock ticked, soleman and
slow. Kyan's trembling knees man
a aged to carry him to the little hall
leading from the sitting room toward
Sthe elI at the side of the house. This
hall was almost pitch black.
"Here- here, 'Us," panted Kyan.
"Here's the door. I don't hear nothin',
do yOU? Listen!"
They listened. Not a sound, save
the dismal tick of the clock in the
t room they had left. Ellery knocked
on the door.
h "Miss Pepper," he said; "Miss Pep.
ad per, are you there?"
" Silence, absolute. Abtshai could
stand it no longer. He groaned aed
e. collapsed on his knees.
'e "She has!" he moaned. "Fhe done
Sit and there ain't nothin' oin there but
her remains. Oh, my seoul!"
Ellery, now rather frigh',ned him
rs self, shook him violently.
1. *Be oulet, you idiot!" he command
ad ed. "We must go in. Give me the
at. key."
n, 4fter repeated orders and accom
pI anying shakings, Kyan produced a
Ct key. The minister snatched it from
e his tremblng fingaers, tealt foar the key
hole and threw the door open. The lit
tie room was almost as dark as the
hall and quite as still. There was a
distinct smell of old clothes and cam
phor. The minister was going after a
match, and said so. In a moment he
returned with several. One of these
he lit. The brimstone sputtered, burned
blue and fragrant, then burst into a
yellow flame.
The little room was empty.
John Ellery drew a breath - relief.
Then he laughed.
"Humph!" he exclaimed. "She's
gone. Come into the sitting room,
light a lamp, and let's talk it over."
The lamp was found and lighted at
last. It's radiance brightened the dingy
sitting room. The sound of wheels
was heard in the lane by the front
gate. A vehicle stopped. Then some
one called a hurried good night. Mr.
Pepper's fear returned.
"It's her!" he cried. "She's been
ahuntin' for me. Now I'll get it! You
stand by me, Mr. Ellery. You got to.
You said you would. But how on earth
did she get out--"
His sister appeared on the threshold.
She was dressed in her Sunday best,
flowered poke bonnet, mitts, imitation of
India shawl, rustling black bombasine m
gown. She looked at Mr. Pepper, then w
at the minister. a
"0 Mr. Ellery!" she exclaimed, "be o,
you here?" tt
The Reverend John admitted his c
presence. Miss Pepper's demeanor w
surprised him. She did not seem ,
angry; indeed, she acted embarrassed I,
and confused, as if she, and not her t
brother, were the guilty party. U
"I'm awfully sorry, Mr. Ellery," ,
gushed Lavinia, removing the bonnet.
"You see, I was invited out to ride ,
this afternoon and-and-I went." ti
She glanced at her brother, red
dened-yes, almost blushed-and con- a
tinued. h
"You know, 'Bishy," she said,
"Thankful Payne's cousin's home avls- a
I itin' her. He come about that cousin's
will-the other cousin that's just died. i
He's a real nice man-her live cousin
is-keeps a shoe store up to Sandwich,
and I used to know him years ago.
When I was over to Thankful's t'other
day, him and me had quite a talk. We
got speakin' of what nice drives there
was around Trumet and-and-e-r-
well, he asked me if I wouldn't like to
go to ride next Sunday afternoon- C
that's today. And a ride bein' a good
deal of a treat to me, I said I would.
Thankful was goin' too, but-er--r
she couldn't very well. So Caleb
that's his name, you remember, 'Bishy I
I -he come round with his horse and
team about ha'f past three and we
s started. But I'd no idee 'twas so late.
I I-I-meant to tell you I was goin' I
'Bish, but I forgot.
"I'm so sorry I kept you waitin' sup- I
1 per," gushed Lavinia. "I'll get you a
good one now. Oh, well, deary me! I
must be gettin' absent-minded. I ain't
s asked you where you've been all the
afternoon."
I Abishal's eyes turned beseechingly
I toward his promised backer. Ellery
s could not resist that mute appeal.
5 "Your brother has been with me for
D some time, Miss Pepper," he volun
r teered.
"Oh, has be? Ain't that nice! He
n couldn't have been in better comp'ny,
a I'm sure. But, oh, say, 'Bishy! I ain't
told you how nigh I come to not get
s tin' out at all. Just afore Mr. Payne
e come, I was in that spare room and
u you remember I put a spring lock on
that door? Well, when I was in there
this afternoon the wind blew the
u door shut, the lock clicked, and there
I was. If I hadn't had the other key
in my pocket I don't know's I wouldn't
. have been in there yet. That would
w have been a pretty mess, wouldn't it!
4 He! be! he!"
The Reverend John did not answer.
He could not trust himself to speak
just then. When he did it was to an
nounce that he must be getting toward
homb. No, he couldn't stay for smp
per.
Miss Pepper went into the lkitchea,
and Abishali saw the visitor to the
door. Ellery extended hs bhand and
Kyan shook it with enthusiasm.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
A Vivid Picture.
Of all "aptitudes," the mechanial
Is least likely to manifest itself in n
feminine brain. The young woman
whose visit to a locomotive works is
described in Young's Magasipe, was
doubtless interested in what she saw,
but her account of the processes ob
served leaves the reader to doubt her
entire understanding of them.
"You pour," she told a friend, "a lot
of sand into a lot of boxes, and you
throw old stove Ilds and things into
a furnace, and then you turn the red
hot steam into a hole in the sand, and
r everybody yells and shoots.
"Then you poor it out, let it oool
and pound It, and then you put in it
a thing that bores holes in it. Then
you screw it together, and paint it.
and put steam in it, and it goes sples
didly, and they takeL it to a drafting
room and make a blue-print of it.
h- "But one thing I forgot-They have
e to make a boiler. One man gets in
side and one gets outside, and they
pound frighttfully, and then they tie It
1to th other thing, and you ought to
see it go!"--Youth's Compsanion.
Finding the Drowned.
Occasionally one risds that, when
human bodies are thought to be in riv
ers and cannot be found, "a loaf o
n bread has been floated down the
d stream." But very few people have
a the least idea what connection there
l is between bread and the finding of
bodies. When the river has been
dragged without result, a loaf of bread
is cut in two, a place hollowed out in
the middle, and a quantity of quick
silver inserted. The two halves of
the loaf are then fastened together
again, and the bread is thrown into
d the water in the plaoe where the body
is supposed to be. Without fall the
loaf floats along until it reachesb the
vicinity of the body, and then revolves
Squickly, hovering over the spot.
, When Disraeli Faltered.
SDisraeli was speaking in support of
at Lord Lytton's motion condemning the
evacuation of Kandahar. "My lords,"
m- he said, "the key of India is not Merv.
or Herat, or"-here came a long pausaw,
ad- and rather painful anxiety in the a
he dience, and then the quiet rstumption
of the thread-"It is not the place of
so- which I cannot recall the namehe
akey Of India is London."-One I _oo
o Back, by the RL Hor G. W. 5 Sea
ev- ..n
ANGORA GOATS THRIVE IN SOUTHWEST
. o
Profitble Bunch of Angora Kids.
The raising of angora goats is one war
of the thriving industries of the Is
mountain districts of the vast south- abo
west. Many ranchers are now making loni
a good living by herding angora goats whi
on lands that are worthless for any- pou
thing else. The goats are kept in a is i
corral at night so as to protect them of'
with a high and tight fence from lan
wolves, wild cats, and mountain lions, the
In the early morning the herder starts is
the flock with a belled leader grazing "m
up the banks of some dashing stream. I
where they reach eventually a high ply
plateau, and a cross over is made to wel
another watershed. The herder climbs for
the trail to a peak, rocky cliff or ridge for
of the range, and with his field glass tio
and ever-ready Winchester, he guards dif
his flock from prowling marauders try
and swooping eagles. Thus the flock rat
feeds and prospers on the most rugged ha
and inaccessible lands when other an- tat
imals would starve. goi
The chief product from an angora fro
flock is the flock itself, as the increase foc
per year of a well kept flock is up- tr
MEANS FOR OPERATING GATE CI
Occupant of Vehicle May Control Gate Iin
Upon Approaching It and
Close it Behind Him.
The Scientific American in describ
ing a road gate, invented by C. W. we
Witail and F. O. Williams of Analo cl4
mink. Pa., says: ha
This road gate may be operated by 7,(
the occupant of a vehicle upon ap- th
proaching the gate, to cause the gate co
to move in a direction away from the as
vehicle, and whereby also when the in
vehicle has passed through the occu- be
pant can close the gate behind him. P9
An object of this invention is to pro- 5
as
Sc
jii
Means for Operating Gates.
vide a gate-operating means as Indi
cated, and in the form of attachment c
that may be applied to ordinary gates (
without any great modification in the
I latter. The accompanying illustration
I shows a perspective view of a gate o
equipped with the improved operating s1
devices f.
Has a Boll Weevil Remedy.
A Maryland physician believes he
has solved the problem of combatting
the boell weevil, and he bases his
claim on tests and experiments that
have been made by him and his asso
ciates in the cotton belt. His plan
is merely to plant cedar or fir trees
about the fields where the cotton is tl
a grown. There is something, he ex
plains, about the odor or pollen of
some other emanation from the con
Sfer that is so repugnant to the nasect
a that it will not stay in the vicinity.
The influence of the tree is so far
reaching that the plan is an entirely
s practicable one.
The idea was first suggested by ob
t servation that, where the fir and ce
a dar flourished, the boll weevil was
o wholly absent, but that, where growth
I- of these trees was cut out, the pest
d came in great numbers. The great
demand for fir and cedar timber has.
I within a generation, resulted in near
It ly the complete destruction, even of
a the saplings, throughout the south.
Silk in Mississippl.
SMulberries are perfeetly at home tn 1
SMissisippi and both wild and cultivat
Sed varieties do well A successful ex
4 periment at silk production has been
H carried on near McNell by Syrlans
who have used the native mulberry
trees for feeding the sulk worm larvae.
These people report very satisfactory 1
Sresults, claiming conditions as favor
Sable in Misslisippi for the production I
Sof silk as in their native country.
Buying Feed.
In buying feed remember that
white mlddlings is better than the
brown, that white oats is to be pre
Sferred to the black, that coarse bran
is better than fine, that hulled oats
Ios better than oats with the hulls on.
Sthat white corn is not so fattening
au the yellow variety, and that KaW
fir corn is an excellent grain, and
e heold be more extensively fed.
Harmful Corn Smut.
SCorn smut is found In almost ev
ery part of the country where corn is
grown. Some years seem to be
worse than others, due probably to
tfavorable weather conditions Al
Sthough the loss is usually not as
Sgreat as in some states further south
d and east, it is nevertheless consider
e able. Most farmers consider the losw
a too small to demand any attents..
Syet the aggregate to the state is on
o.nbtedly large It should be notioed
wards of 120 per cent. The shearingl
is done twice per year, averaging
about three pounds per goat of the
long silky hair at each clipping, and
which brings from 30 to 40 cents per
pound. The meat of the angora goat
is better than mutton. But the flavor
of "angora" as well as that of "spring
lamb" depends greatly upon the way
the animal is tended and dressed. It
is very easy to spoil a good thing in
"mutton."
Last, but not least, is the milk sup.
ply from angoras. Since the south
west has become a national sanitarium
for consumptives, there is a demand
for wholesale milk. In this connec
tion it might be mentioned that it is
difficult to get milk in a "cow coun
try." Queer to say that on some
ranches having hundreds of cows, they
have neither milk nor butter for the
table. Hence, it happens that the an
gora goat fills a household necessity
from an easterner's standpoint-for
food and drink in the southwest coun
try. th
CLOVER FOR WORN-OUT SOILS c
Increase From 16 to 22 Bushels of tt
Corn Per Acre Made in Experi- T
ment in Alabama. ol
It
An experiment in Alabama on old, ili
worn-out soil was made with sweet J,
clover. It produced 6,672 pounds of tj
hay to the acre the first year and
7,048 the second year, after which b
the stubble was planted to corn. The a
corn produced 22.7 bushels an acre as n
against 16.2 bushels upon an adjoin- a
Ing plat where sweet clover had not n
been grown. At the Ohio state ex- tl
periment station sweet clover land tl
gave a yield of 26.9 bushels an acre, e
as compared with 16.6 on similar land
not in sweet clover the year before.~
Sweet clover increased the yield of
oats in Germany 17 bushels an acre. b
The supply of humus, the supply of I:
nitrogen, the physical condition of the t
soil, the penetration, aeration and b
porosity of the subsoil can be estab- a
lished by the growth of sweet clover
at a cheapness that is startling. Nor t
is it a hard plant to grow; it is one, b
if not the most hardy of the legumi- f
nous plants.
It seems to establish itself on old. a
worn-out soils where other legumes t
will not grow at all, and where field t
crops grow so poorly as not to pay.
Owing to these characteristics and to a
e the fact that its bacteria are capable 4
of living and prospering on the roots
S of alfalfa, it is perhaps the best po I
sible plant with which to precede al
falfa, in sections where there is difl
culty in securing a successful growth
of that plant.
g a
e Unless the brood mare is well fed
s the foal will disappoint the owner.
G- ood farming is not so much in 1
'i what we do as in the way we do it.
Potatoes produce wonderful cropse
in proportion to the amount of seed I
planted.
Early hatched pullets should begin
y to lay early. That is, if they have I
had the right feeding and care. I
No artificial heat is required tn I
i pigeon houses, but they must be abse
h lutely tight as draft are fatal.
The raisers of the highest class of
t hunters in Ireland believe that the
feeding of corn is injurious to the I
s.
A mule is supposed to be broken
after half a day's work-that is, it
the drver has half the sense of the 1
mule.
The brood mare that does not give
sufficient milk for her foal had best
in be sold at onca, unless the fault is
t- with the owner.
- In connection with the feedlang
,n problem, do not underestimate the
s necessity of Ianducing the cow to
ry drink large quantities of water.
SThe aim of every pigeon dealer is
ry to prodnee the largest amount of
r meat in his bird. For this reasonm
r scrnb stock should never be used.
There is no better system of feed
Ing for milk than to give each cow
a ration aecording to the work she is
doing and to properly nouriash her
body.
at A scientific education combined with
he common sense and a natoral love for
- the cow is the fndation of asuccess
i in dairying and getting together a
ts choice herd of cattle.
,. Opposition to a few reasonable re
ag forms by a few crooked dairymen
if- not only brings the dairy industry
ad Into bad repute, but turns people from
the use of dairy products
that the lose is not measured by the
deformed ears alone, but also by the
Sloss t vigor and yield ia plants where
Is other parts suffer from smut. Special
Scare should therefore be exercied
to vith the sugar corns.
a Corn for Horses
or Some say oats must be fed to
ass horses, but, nevertheless, a lot of
o, horses have struggled through an a
n- toundlg amount of work oa ern
sed alon
OLD LANDMARK TO BE RAZED
Noted Toll-House In Boston to Be
Torn Down-Will Be Replaced
With a Theater.
Boston.-A structure of much his
toric interest, which ill soon be torn
down to make way for a theater. is
the old toll-house at the northeast
corner of Oxford street anti Ridge
I avenue. The building. which t1 of
frame and one and a half stories In
I height. was the tirst te(ll-house on the
famous o!d Rid'ge Road which was the
first improved road leading from this
city to Norristown. It was built in
111 by the Ridge Road Turnpike
Company and is the last of the old
toll-houses remaining within the city
limits.
The building consists of two parts.
the original structure and an addition
built about 196;0, which adjoins it on
I
1 -
Famous Old Toll House Which Soon
Will Be Razed.
the corner. The old building was used
as the toll-house for over 50 years un
til a change in the highways in the vi
cinity necessitated its abandonment
and the erection of a new house fur
of ther up the road. at Issining avenue.
The old house has been the property
of one family ever since it was built.
It was built by John S. Lawrence, the
d, first toll-keeper, whose grandson.
et John H. Lawrence, recently sold it to
of the theatrical concern.
id Mr. Lawrence was born in the
bh building and remembers his mother
be collecting tolls at the doorway. For
as many years Mr. Lawrence used it as
In- an office for his coal yard. It was
ot not far to the east of the old toll-gate
fi- that Porter. the highwayman, robbed
ad the United States mail coach in the
re. early part of the last century, for
ad which he was hanged at Bush Hill,
re. near Seventeenth street and Far
of mount avenue. Another itrportant
building at the time which was close.
of ly associated with the toll-house was
he the Moss Cottage Hotel, which was
nd built before the Revolution and stood
a short distance west.
rer It was the custom in the days of
or the toll-bouse not to collect tolls from
ne, hearses and undertaker's wagons, nor
ol- funeral carriages on the way to a
church yard. Funerals on the way to
ld, a cemetery, however, were compelled
see to pay. Carriages conveying perseou
eld to church services also were exemplt
ay. from the toll. The rate was 1% cents
to a mile for each horse and 1 cent for
ble each head of cattle and swine.
Dts
DECORATED HOSE NOW RAGE
1 Snakes, Dragons and Eastern Prow.
erbs Wrought In Embroidery
In Paris.
Parls--The crase for decorated
stockings, which began timidly dur
ing the summer season, has -~nme to
stay and takes on tfurther develop
ments daily.
It is now the fashion for society
d women to wear snakes, lisards,
Chinese dragons and other picturesque
i beasts embroidered in brithty colored
It spangles, or a Persian or Arable in
ps scription elaborately worked in silk
d containing, it is stated, some ancient
moral proverb.
These are not only In use for eve
e ning wear, as ell as silver and gold
stockings, of which a description has
i already been cabled, but were In great
r. evidence at Auteunll on Sunday, when
the last race meeting of the seasoc
Swas held.
te Another device for attracting attem
the tion to a beautiful foot is decoratnl
the heel of the shoe with a narrow
en band of gold, in some cases set with
i small gems. The leading actresses of
the Paris all declare themselves enchanted
with this latest phase of fashion.
v Mile. Regina Badet, the well-known
et danseuse, says that she had always
is dreamed of being able to walk about
in Roman sandals with her toes cov
ag ered with rings, and that the next
the best thing would be to wear diamonds
to on her heels.
' RELIC OF NAPOLEON FOUND
Goethe's "Werther,r" Whish Generul
Carried at AllI Times, is Disecov
ered In Ruslia.
Si Paris.-It is reported here that, at
he the town of Dorpala, in Russia, there
has just been discovered a remark
"t able relic of Napoleon's Russian camn
io palgn in the form of a copy of Goe
#* the's "Werther," which was Nape
a leon's personal property, and accom
panied him wherever he went.
e The volume, which is bound in
mem leather and is in an excellent state
str of preservation, contains, as well as
r Napoleon's signature, a curious in
scriptlon on the fly leaf by an eu
known hand, stating that the book
was stolen by a Cossack from the em
Speror's sledge one night during the
retreat from Moscow.
S Besides the date of the theft anad
ml the name of the thief, details are
d given of the method by which the
Cossacks managed to possess himself
of the volume.
Wante "Wedding Proof' MaId.
to St. Louis, Mo.--Of ten maids, Mrs.
of Louas P. Risser has had in the last
B three years, all.have married. She
n has advertised for a "redding proof
mad

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