Decorah public opinion., November 08, 1895, Image 3

About Decorah public opinion. (Decorah, Winneshiek County [Iowa]) 1895-1928

Image provided by: State Historical Society of Iowa

                
TO A 8l \BKAM.
(Lighting on my lady sleeping.!
go lightly touch her dreaming head.
Nor sunder eyelids sealed asleep.
Rut deck with tire th» shining swt ep
Of hair about her pillow shed.
So lightly come and go.
And lose yourself, and find yourself
In tawny tangles of her hair:
Content you with the golden snare
Nor venture like a saucy elf
To stray beneath her clilu.
On carven temples lightly lie.
Nor vex the amber, eye that s hid
’Neath either violet-veiled lid:
Ah! swoon across her cheek and die
Upon her fervent mouth.
For, having sipped the honey there.
You may not live another hour
To wanton with auother flower
Nor burning rose —nor lily rare.
Rut perish in the kiss.
—Rail Mall Cassette.
La runaway wheel. c
“Fred, old man. you are indeed for
tunate,” said 1 as 1 leaned back In
the easy chair before the grate lire in
his cozy home.
“Yes, fortunate is very word, he
answered, musingly. “The events m
an hour changed the course ot my
life. If that hour had been left out ol
the day. I should uot be the possessor
of such a home, but would be back in
the old bachelor quarters. They were
not so bad, and there was only one
woman for whom I would give them
up. At that time she had refused me
was. in fact, engaged to another.
"I have never before spoken ol ibis,
hut what 1 have gained lias been well
corned. 1 was favored by tort tine in
that hour, but it was seizing the oppm
tunity that made me successful.
•‘A party of us had gone away on
a wheeling trip. We were young gft.\
and joyous, and the weeks slipped by
until it came time for use to thiuk of
returning.
“Front being in love with Emily
Hrnnt l became madly iutatuated with
her. Though site treated mo in the
most distant manner. I still thought,
with the conceit of youth, that she
cared a little for me. I was helped out
In this idea by little incidents and tri
vial circumstances which led mo to
hope she would accept me.
”1 had a rival -a man who did noi
seem to consider my actions of any
importance. I could not. seem to make
him jealous in the slightest degree,
lie had naturally a very self composed
manner, but tills alone would not ae
count for his hearing.
“I came to the conclusion that 1
must propose to Emily before we re
turned to the city, as 1 would have a
much better opportunity of stating my
ease amid favorable surroundings
than in iho city with its bustle am/ .t
--terruptioHS.
“One afternoon we were riding
through a beautiful valley, and it sc
happened Emily and myself were quite
a distance to the rear of the puny.
IV > road was smooth, the trees arch
» .-?!-'.overhead, the sunlight streamed
in golden shafts through them, falling
alternately upon Emily a* she rode her
wheel so easily and gracefully, light
ing her beantv with a soft glow. I
eouhl keep silence no longer and rid
ing close beside her. as we sped ou to
gether. I told her how much I loved
her and asked her to ho my wife.
“Then came the breaking of the
dream I bad had for s.< many weeks
and months. In a few words. I learn
ed then? was no hope me; that,
though she admired and respected me.
she had never thought of me in any
other way: that there was already an
understanding between Mr. Fernow
and herself, ami that their engagement
was soon to be announced.
‘At tirst l could hardl.v believe my
ears. We rode the rest of the way in
silence. For me the glory of the da>
laid departed. It was as if a haze,
like tin* melancholy haze of an lu
dlan summer, through which 1 should
see all things for all time, had closed
around me.
“If it had been possible. I should
have left that night for the city, but
circumstances compelled me to ae
company the party on one last ride.
“I never saw a gayer set of people
than we were when we started the
next day. Some of them guyed me a
little about my lack of gayety. hut I
answered that 1 was to leave the next
day and felt sad in consequence.
“We were to ride down one valley
then descend a mountain into another
valley. 1 was the only one in the
party who had been over the road,
and it was so long ago I had partial
Iy forgotten it. When we began to
descend the mountain T told them we
had better walk, as the road was very
steep. Thev took niv advice for a
time, and we had gone the greater
part of the way. when one of the
party, in a spirit of frolic, mounted
his wheel and dared the others to do
likewise.
“Thinking we were almost at the
foot of the mountain, we all followed
his example. 1 was riding in the lead.
Earnest Fernow was close beside me.
Suddenly. <*n turning a bend, we came
ttpou a pitch in the road so steep as
to greatly alarm us.
“Wo had all been riding a good
speed, 'fills in Itself would have mat
tered little had each one of us had our
wheels under perfect control; but tim
idity. carelessness or fright might
mean great danger.
“I saw Earnest Fernow turn white
and Jam his brake down hard, while
he back pedaled with all his might.
Suddenly we were startled by a cry of
fear n cry for help. ‘Earnest, save
me!’ 'fhe next instant Emily ltrant
sped by us. She had lost control of
. her wheel.
“Fernow paid no heed. lie was too
frightened himself. lie turned his
bicycle into the bank and jumped.
Even at the speed which she was go
ing 1 knew she realized he had de
serted her.
“Unless you have lieou similarly
placed you cannot understand the feel
lug of horror that comes over you as
you know your wheel is beyond your
.•ontrol on a steep mountain. There is
no way to stop but by turning into tlu*
liank and taking a headlong plunge,
and the chances of injury or death, or
to keep on, while the speed increased
with each revolution of the wheels,
md the chances of escape grow less.
“I rmlined that if I started in pur
suit my wheel would l>e in a moment
more beyond my control. Still, my op
portunity hud come, and I did not hes
itate. A moment more and I was close
behind her. 1 had no Idea up to this
time what 1 should do. hut as my
wheel, owing to superior weight.
I closed up the gap between us my
* thoughts began to take form,
i “The road, fortunatey, was almost j
j straight. 1 remembered that where ]
it came upon the valley there was a
wide, shallow river. It came down t
the mountain at light angles to this)
river, then turned to the left. There ;
was a small open Held between the
road and river. 1 knew that instinct
: ively site would try to turn away from
; the river, lu that case she would be
hurled against a mass of rock through
; which tile road had been cut.
“I must reach her before we came
ii|K»n tin* river. For a time our speed
j was terrific. The rocks and trees
seemed to lie strangely blurred as
they sped by. \Ye could feel the air,
j like a resisting wall, through which
we were plunging. Then we came
| j upon a rise in the road, almost a hill,
which reduced our speed somewhat.
; and I came nearer her.
J "As I came close behind her wheel
she turned her head as if she could
1 not bear the sight of the water to
ward which we were plunging.
“She saw me. and in all the horror j
that surrounded us. I felt a great hap
piness, for there was trust, confidence
and admiration in that look. It said:
‘You will save me.’
"I'p to that time I believe site
thought she was riding to death alone.
“Then 1 was close beside her, and as j
we came to the turn in the road, I !
reached over and seized for one in- i
statu the handle liars of her wheel,
keeping both wheels poiuted for the.
open held and tlie river.
“There was a minute’s jar as we
crossed the field, then the river s«*om
ed to spring to meet us. There was a j
dull shock mid a plunge into the wa
ter.
“I found myself, when I had recov
ered from the force of the blow, half
standing, half floating in the shallow
water, holding Emily Brant, who was
white and unconscious. The land
sea pe seemed to lie spinning round
like a top.
"I realized we had escaped serious
injury, as the river had acted as a
cushion and lessened the force of the
impact as we plunged from our
wheels. She soon revived, but was
very weak and dizzy. That night the
order of tilings was changed. 1 re
mained. and it was Fernow who left
for the city.
“From that day the haze of Indian
summer that threatened to envelop
my life lias given place to the glory
of noontide.”
For a moment or two, as Fred ceas
ed speaking, we both sat. looking at j
tin* grate tire, where tiiS coals glowed j
in the ruddy flame.
I was thinking, knowing Fred as
well as 1 did. that Emily might well !
consider that hour a fortunate one for |
it a great dread, but all l said was, ;
“Thanks for the story, old man.”—
Henry K. llaydock in Once a Week.
ELKi'TH UiTl AMI THE MAIL..
Talk u( a Miu-f Extensive lint* of
U lre» in Hit* I'OMtul Service.
It lias recently been pointed out
that already the telephone is used, by
actual count, ten times as much as the
telegraph, the annual 11litres being
put now at about T.'t.tioo.ooo telegrams
and ToO.tNHMMto telephone talks. The
long distance telephone system is par
alleling: the older telegraph lines all
over the country, nud in I lie cities the
average of use of the telegraph, ow
| ing to rapid transit, messenger service
special delivery letters, and. alxrve all.
the telephone, inis dropped much below
per head per year. A suggestion late
iy put forward by Mr. I*. H. Delany,
an inventor and electrician of high
standing, is the subject just now of
warm discussion in electrical circles.
Having in mind the statistics quoted
above. Mr. Helany announces his firm
conviction that it is time to get out of
ilie telegiaph its full working value,
and that it ought now to be used for
the carriage of mails, not in the physi
cal sense, but literally, all the same,
lie Ivlieves that JO.uno or rni.ono let
ters of about tlfty words each between
Chicago and New York could every
day be profitably sent over a couple of
copper wires at a rate of Vie or I.V
] apiece. Thousands of such letters now
i pay lie in the mail to insure the sav
ing of half tin hour after a journey
of twenty-four hours, whereas, by Mr.
1 tela tty’s plan, corresitondeuee be
tween two such metropolitan centers
j could asil.v be interchanged in an
hour, and the documents be dellver
|ed in clean typewriter print. The
plan is based necessarily an “machine
telegraphy.’* which has been on trial
before, and not gone very far; but
rite growth of the great cities and the
undoubted desire for swifter, cheaper
, iuter-eoumiunieution of nrivate and
puhlie news, give more plausibility to
: Mr. Henlay’s argument titan they have
laid hitherto, llis idea is to give the
| puhlie a low-priced telegraphic
mail on 'ho same lines that Rowland
• Hill lira! started lots i nivorsai postal
service, and his contention is that the
i function of railways is to handle pas
sengers and freight, but not anything
; so Intangible as correspondence and
news. New York Rost.
A Knruicr’n l iml
John Stauffer lias made an important
j discovery of anthracite coal on hts
farm, back of Cherry Run. W. Vu.,
, twenty miles south of Hagerstown.
I With the aid of his son and one hired
| man lie has mined during the past
two or three months twenty tons of
coal, and landed the same at the top
j of a tin-foot shaft by hand. The coal
; was carefully covered, aud the milling
went on In the strictest secrecy by the
light of an ordinary coal oil lamp.
: Stauffer lias now started front the bot
] torn of (lie shaft to tunnel into the
mountain. The velu is very thick.
| and the conl lias been pronounced
: equal to the Slianioklu Valley pro
! duct. Stauffer’s tract embraces 1,000
, acres, but the land is poor and his
J means are limited. Some time ago
optious were secured on neighboring
I lands, but prospecting met with no re
-1 »uhs. Before Stauffer hud investigated
the extent of the vein lie is now worß
j ing he tried to enlist the aid of local
capitalists in the formation of a com
pany. but wtts not successful. After
this he started right in to work, keep
ing Ids movements secret and making
surprising discoveries. St. I.ouis (Jlolm
i lUnnoeriit.
FREE WOOL FRAUD.
NOT A LEG LEFT FOR FREE
TRADE TO HOBBLE ON.
Wool Clicayfr Item, but Dearer in tlie
Markers of the World—Territory Wool
(■rnwen f.ose s»l 5,000,0(10 in Sheep
Values.
‘
Many newspapers have published a
significant table prepared by Messrs.
Justice, Bateman & Co., wool commis
sion merchants of Philadelphia, show
ing the comparative values of wool on
October 1, 1891, one year after the pas
sage of the McKinley law, and October
1, 1895, one year after the passage of
the Free Wool Wilson-Gorman law, as
follows:
Comparison of prices for leading grades of
American wool Oct. 1, 1810. (about one year
after the passage of the Wilson Free Wool
Hill) with prices lor the same grades in Octo
ber, 1801—about one year after the passage of
the McKinley Law.
~T7T7
%
-°j "*-s B ®
AMERICAN WOOl* 4
Philadelphia and Boston s. O £
Prices.
jgSg £
■£ ** .** *
j i_ _ Ji£ u
jXX Ohio washed '..... 30'ic. ts>tc. IS
j Ohio medium washed 138 c. 81c! 15
' Ohio coarse washed ('4 blood) 33c. 22c. II
(>hio tine unwashed !21'..i\43c. K‘i
lud. & Mo. line unwashed |2oe. jl2c. 8
Ind. & Mo. tiled, unit'd. (>., bid) 27c. jlsc. 12
Ind.&Mo.coarsc t‘ 2 bid. unwd.) -se. 17*.ic. 7 l j
Ore. &Col. fine,shrink 70 prcL lß‘,c.|loc. B‘,
XX Ohio Scoured j(ssc. 759’. ; c. 25'...
Ohio medium scoured j3sc. 25
! Ohio *4 blood scoured ! ltc. 29a 15
Oregon & Col. flno scoured die. |33)4c. '27 Vi
Commenting upon the foregoing, a
newspaper defender of Grover Cleve
land’s ruinous free wool policy said:
“Any newspaper disposed to be fair in
discussing wool values would have
taken into consideration the fact that
during the past two years the price of
all agricultural products has been un
commonly low. In that period, for ex
ample, cotton reached the lowest rate
on record, though cotton is not protect
ed by the tariff at all. Wheat likewise
reached its minimum figure. Every
country in the world has been affected
by this decline in the value of agricul
tural commodities, and wool has fur
nished no exception to the rule.”
Such a statement is the product of an
unduly stimulated imagination, for, in
j point of fact, foreign wool is not only
no lower than in October, 1891, when
the McKinley law had been in force for
one year, but is higher in the markets
of the world, us will be seen by the fol
lowing table of London market quota
tions for eight of the leading London
grades of wool that are most like Amer
ican wool:
!I- s c
I IS3 Is
•© C Sc
FOREIGN WOOL. 1 , £<?
QtaJ Of*
London Prices. £.3 J-H “
■H S .3*3
ft,? |X£ 5
Port Philip greasy (similar loi
XX Ohio) lIKd IS4 l A<L
Now Zealand crossbred greasy
(similar to Ohio mod.) ll(iU jl- l jd. Id.
English Ehropshtro hoggets
(similar to Ohio .‘4 blood) ltd" |i2d. Id.
Cupe grease *l’ 4 d. i
Port Philip scoured itd. 'Aid. Id.
N. Zealand crossbred scoured, iWil. '.’<•< I Id.
English Shropshire hogs scVd!lI 1 s d l«d. l‘ a
Fine Cape scoured |l&!4d J 16541]
Since this table was prepared foreign wo its
have advanced. American wools are un
changed.
Another defender of Grover Cleve
land's policy. which Is rapidly
slaughtering the seventh largest Amer
ican agricultural industry, says:
“The farmergof New York never could
have imagined how poor they have be
come until told by the republican state
convention that the democratic party
has ‘robbed’ them of ‘millions of
dollars through free wool and the re
duction of the tariff upon agricultural
products by the Wilson tariff bill.’ As
to wool, sheep growing in New York,
as in all the old states, not excepting
Ohio, has steadily declined for many
years in obedience to natural laws
that no amount of protection can over
come. As population increases in the
other states land becomes mueh too
valuable for sheep raising. In accord
ance with this law the number of sheep
in New York fell off under protection
and is still declining. The protectionist
explanation of this decline is that the
duties were not high enough. But the
sheep culture in this country would
Lave moved from the dearer to the
cheaper lands had the duties been madu
prohibitory.”
If New York, Ohio and the older
states have lost millions of dollars an
nually because of the land becoming
too valuable for sheep raising, why is
it that under the free wool policy ol
Grover Cleveland the loss on wool and
sheep has amounted to millions of dol
lars in the territorial sections, where
sheep have increased in number? The
following table, showing the effect ol
free wool on the value of flocks, la
taken from the department of agricul
ture. and it is limited to the only states
where land is cheap and where the
sheep have increased:
The Effect of Free Wool on \»liie of
Flocka.
The official report from the depart
ment of agriculture show the follow
ing:
VALUES OP FLOCKS. JANUARY t.
1805. 1804. 189:5.
Montana 14,227,400 5f.8P1.805 18,528.5*'
New Mexico ... 2,(502,808 3.f159,!(49 4,101.04"
Utah ”908 885 1108, 480 5.038,022
Oregon 2,045.004 4,433 40:5 5,001.182
Nevada 1,316,887 t.1»vt,1«2 1.317.092
Colorado 1,981 058 2,:«96 205 3.105 803
Arizona 001,081 1. 200,081 1.308,07*
North Dakota 010,701 754.073 1,173,800
South Dakota .. 532.000 750,(542 t .068.008
Idaho 1,200,770 1.753,081 1,910,055
Washington.... 1,3 >4,380 1,0X0,790 2.328,130
Wyoming 2,001.107 2,006,284 3,300.255
Total value. .122,824,801 128.740,801 137 108,932
Decrease from value in 1804 *5,922,000
Decrease from value in 1803 14.281.131
The Boston Commercial Bulletin of
August 24 says:
“Thesestatescomprise the region that
produces what are called ‘territory’
wools. On March 1, 1893. fine territory
staple was selling in this market at GO
cents the scoured pound. On August
12. 1894, just before the passage of the
Gorman tariff, it was selling at 40 cents.
It is worth today 26 cents.
“In two years the value of the Ameri
can flock has dropped from $125,909,264
to $66,685,767, thanks to the success of
our free wool friends in the elections
of 1892. On account of the slaughter
of sheep, and the shortage of the clip,
growers received more for their
wool this year than last. None of them
have received anything approaching
the prices paid when wool was not un
der the blight, as it has been since
March, 1893. of hostile control by the
national government.”
In 1893 tlie farmers of New York state
averaged 200 sheep each. They can
easily see how they have been robbed
by a glance at the following statement:
The average production of clean
scoured wool by each farmer in Ohio,
Michigan and New York states during
President Harrison's administration,
and under McKinley law protection,
was 600 pounds, the value of which was
60 cents per pound. Under Cleveland’s
administration and Gorman tariff free
trade the value of the same has been 30
cents per pound. The net gain to each
farmer by reason of cheaper free wool
clothing (allowing three pounds of pure
scoured wool to eight annual new suits
of clothing to each family) would be
$7.20. Giving credit for cheaper cloth
ing. the net average loss on the wool
and sheep by reason of free wool has
been $422.80, as the folowiug table will
show:
March, 1803. and previous. Sort
pounds scoured wool at McKin
ley price. (50 cents S3BO i j
Octobei. 1895, and previous. (SOJ
pounds scoured wool at Wilson
law price, 3o cents J 80.00
Loss on wool SIBO.OO
March, 189:5, auu previous. 200
sheep, at $4 $830.0)
October, 1895, and previous. 2uo
sheep, at <2.75 550.00
I-oss on sheep 42>0.00
Total loss on wool and sheep 44:41 on
Clothing, eight suits at 3 pounds
on each suit. 24 pounds, Me
Ktnlev price. (5) cents 414. id
Clothing, eight suits at 3 pounds
on each suit, 24 pounds, Wil
son law price, 30 cents 7.20
Saving on eight suits ot cloth
mg by free wool 47 20
Net loss to each wool grower
by tree trade in wool $422.80
The same paper said:
“But the worshipers of the McKinley
tariff idol are rapidly diminishing
among the farmers of this country.”
If “the worshipers of the McKinley
tariff idol” are diminishing, why did
many hitherto democratic farmers last
year join the republican party? It was
to repudiate Grover Cleveland, and ail
that he stands for. and for nothing else.
They ranged themselves with the re
publican party for protection. If the
coming session of congress doesn’t try to
give them protection sufficient to pro
tect. these former democratic farmers
will have no further use for the repub
lican party, and these democratic news
papers know it. Tills is why they are
shrieking so loudly that McKinley pro
tection is a dead issue. They want it to
he a dead issue, otherwise they urs
beaten.
DAIRY iND POULTRY.
INTERESTING CHAPTERS FOR
OUR RURAL READERS.
How Mu<-< e**ful Farmer* Operate Thi*
Depart merit of the Farm—A Few
Hint* Xi to the Care of l.ive Stork
and Poultry.
fr=asassog AKE a building
jjSjSSp* that will hold 59
wide by 108 feet
long and 14 feet
story should be 10
feet for the cows,
with a 4 foot loft
for meal and cut lit
ter. A building of
this width and size
can be built of light tim
bers. say 2 by 4 inch studding,
balloon frame. As the roof is narrow
the rafters can be light and need no
purlins. Board it with neat siding and
line it or plaster inside. With well ar
ranged windows and air ducts you have
light and ventilation as thoroughly un
der your control as in the living room
of your house. Such a building as this
can be put up for one-third the cost of a
55 by 60 foot bank barn and be infinite
ly better as a place to house cows. Two
objections will probably be urged
against this single purpose barn—first,
that you will need a large barn anyhow,
for the storage of hay and grain, and,
secondly, that it will be inconvenient to
get the coarse provender from the stor
age barn to the cow barn. In answer to
the first objection I can say if new
buildings are to be put up. build them
long and narrow, as in the case of the
cow barn before described, for the same
saving in the cost of the smaller sized
lumber can be made. Lumber of what
we call yard sizes costs sl2 tosls per
thousand. Sawed sizes cost $lB to S2O.
and quite large sticks, which have to he
of good pine, may cost S3O. Such a
building as above indicated can be built
of yard sizes and would not cost over
half as much as a square bank barn of
the Chester county pattern of the same
capacity. If your old barn is good, take
our your basement stables, drop your
bays and so increase the storage ca
pacity.
i As to the second objection, every
farmer with land enough to put on 40
or 50 cows to 100 acres will surely have
a silo and cut his fodder and his hay.
and with well arranged hanging tracks
can take his cut feed across his barn
yard into his cow barn with more satis
faction than in the old way of takirg
forkfuls of hay and sheaves of fodder
through the dark and narrow entries
An extension of this idea of single
purpose barns would suggest a horse
barn also, which in many ways would
be preferable to stabling them in the
basements of bank barns. We used to
Imagine that great straw sheds were
needed for the storage of litter, the shel
ter of the stock and the protection of
the manure. Now we haul our manure
directly to the fields, our cows are not
let out when they require shelter, and
the straw should be cut into inch
lengths at the time of thrashing, in
which case it can be housed in one-third
the usual space, and actually costs less
than to store it away uncut.—Phila
delphia Ledger.
Western Pasture*.
One of the foremost considerations
with the dairyman is the matter cf
cheap and effective food. In the West
here, even at this comparatively early
day, the cry is for more pasture room.
As a matter of fact the absence of good
pasturage for the cows at about this
time of the year, as a rule, is com
plained about a good deal more in this
section than it is further East where
{they have learned to depend upon
something better. It is now conceded
by dairymen who have studied all sides
of the question that the corn field will
furnish more of the right kind of food
for the dairy cow than will the pasture.
That is to say. turn the pastures into
corn fields and clover and alfalfa
meadows, then prepare the food for the
cows for every month the year around,
and it will bo discovered that milk and
butter are produced at a lessened cost.
This manner of feeding necessarily
brings into requisition the silo. By
this means several advantages are luftl.
It is possible to feed through a long
drouth just the same as though the
pastures were green and without any
increase of cost. It is also possible to
feed through the long winter on a milk
producing ration that is grown on the
farm and is as cheap as grass itself.
With the right kind of ration for win
ter feeding it encourages more of win
ter dairying, and consequently greater
profile to the butter maker. This
branch of conducting the dairy is but
one branch of what i 3 known as in
tensive farming. It is found to be in
keeping with the idea of cutting down
(the acreage of the farm, and of putting
more of both brain and brawn labor
into those acres. This system is work
ing well in practice further east, and
it is but a matter of time when it will
be found more thoroughly engrafted
into our Western ways.—Nebraska
Farmer.
Amateur Tests. —We once knew of a
man that bought a good many cows
every year for his city dairy. It was
before the advent of the Babcock test,
and for that reason he was very ex
cusable in using a more primitive
mode. He would get the milk of the
cow offered for sale and set it over
night in a goblet. If it showed a good
thick cream in the morning, lie bought
the cow. provided her milking capacity
was fairly good. This might do for
cows to be used in a milk dairy, but it
would be very unreliable for cows to
be used in a creamery or for the pri
vate dairy. This, for two reasons:
First, some cream is much more coin
pact than others, and a cow whose
cream was five-sixteenths uf an Inch
thick might really contain less butter
lat than one four-sixteenths Inches
thick. Second, the cream in some milk
rises .bry much slower than in other
lots, due largely to the size of the but
ter globule.
I ucertaiiitr of Kcorrt.
A writer in Ohio Poultry Journal
says: There is no doubt but that the
A. P. A. can recommend certain per
sons as judges, and require them, be
fore that is done to be examined as to
their qualifications for such position,
but in that event wMll all societies and
associations employ them? If they did
not,would it not lead to another rebel
lion, in comparison to which the score
card affair w'ould be a pigmy? Would
it not furnish a pabulum for poultry
writers to ventilate their literary at
tainments pro and con for a long time?
The judge, to suit all, must be espe
cially endowed with certain qualities,
among which might be mentioned well
versed in the business, which means
tact and experience; he must be quick,
agreeable, absolutely accurate, unvary
ing in judgment, have a retentive mem
ory, possessed of patience, and to be
able to measure up defeated exhibitors
he must be a phrenologist, a physiog
nomist, and a psychologist or
hypnotizer. In fact, such a man
cannot be found, and therefore, re
sort must be had to those possessing
fewer virtues. If a judge is required to
use a score card he will have betw’een
twenty and twenty-five subdivisions of
a fowl to examine, each of w’hich may
be defective in from one to six or more
places, and all such defects will vary in
from one-fourth to five or more points
in valuation, and in a class of twenty
fowls his mind or attention, it is possi
ble, will be or may be brought into di
rect operation over 7,000 times, and
w hat is expected is that lie shall go over
and over the same specimens time and
time again and have the results exactly
alike; or if after a week has elapsed a
few of the specimens included in the
twenty named meet him elsewhere, he
is expected to place them in the same
notches again as a test of his expert
skill, ability and honesty, no matter
what changes may have been made in
the circumstances and conditions sur
rounding them —a tiling impossible,
and Its like or analogy is not found in
all nature, a thing which cannot be
done whatever system of scoring he
uses, or whatever committees or asso
ciations recommend him: and it is safe
to say that it is impossible for a judge
to score fowls in any considerable num
bers. or at different times and places,
and make the scores exactly alike when
done twice or more, but with a few ex
tra or line fowls he may score suffi
ciently close to have the results ap
proximately alike.
tircutcr Toultry I’ro.tt*.
Years ago. says E. H. Dav’.s in The
Poultry Monthly, the poultry business
was not as lucrative as it is at the
present time. During the winter
months, although our poultry was well
sheltered and fed and great care used
to keep the buildings clean, giving
plenty of fresh water, etc., we found at
the opening of the spring we had no
remuneration for our labor, as cost of
grain, scraps, potatoes, etc., far ex
ceeded the income of eggs.
We have now a better w’ay of feeding,
and most excellent results have fol
lowed. We feed cut green bones in
fair quantity every other day, and some
of the time every day. They are inex
pensive, and with a good bone cutter
they make when cut fresh every day
so nice a food that we cau only likeu
it to a nice rare steak to a hungry man.
The fowls love it. They thrive, and the
chickens grow rapidly when fed on it.
The mineral part of this food gives
chickens material for their growing
bones, and for the laying hens the
shells, while the meat, gristle and
juices in these green bones give ma
terial for the flesh to the growing
chickens and interior of the egg in
abundance.
So now our fowls, instead of being
overfat in winter, are giving us eggs.
Instead of being a sorry looking, de
jected, unprofitable lot during the molt
ing period, they are wide awake and
strong, and many of them go so far
as to give us eggs regularly at this
time. The grain bill being largely re
duced, the egg yield being increased
and no loss from sickness, all aid in
making our winter and spring record
very encouraging, and no one could in
duce us to neglect the feeding of green
bone freshly cut at all seasons of the
year.
Silicc*.
Manly Miles lias this to say of the
above named breed: This breed, some
times called Silky, or Negro fowls, have
a very peculiar appearance; their
plumage being so unlike that of other
fowls, as to be scarcely recognized as
feathers; while the skin of the fowl is
a deep violet color, almost black, the
hurface bones being of the same hue
jjso, which gives it a rather unin
viting look when prepared for the
Üble. The flesh, however, is very deli
cate and white, and superior to that of
many breeds. The plumage has a soft,
flossy appearance, the filaments being
separate or single, and has been repre
sented by ancient naturalists as re
sembling wool. In describing this pe
culiar breed of fowls some say, “They
were covered with wool instead of
feathers"; others say. they were cov
ered with "hair like cats."
These fowls are supposed to be na
tives of India, though some say they
originated lu China. They are bred In
England to some extent. The cocks
weigh about four pounds, and the hei
about two and one-half pounds.
Scavenger Sheep.—The too common
opinion in regard to sheep is that they
are but scavengers, and litted only to
consume the weeds and other wastes
on the farm; but out of nothing comes
nothing. If there is co proper food,
care and shelter provided, we must
expect our sheep to pine away and per
ish.—Ex.