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I Siu^iUiston 4»rapliu BY COPEI.AKD & OVEBSON. WILLISTONT I N. DAK. UPON A LOAD OF HAY. Fm tired of urban clang and show of void, Of all Its grievous sorrows manifold So to the country, boys, I've run away And beg a ride upon your load of hay. Here's ease that witches weary hearts to rest, And room for poor cramped souls, too long repressed No high walled streets to dim God's sun light fair, -No Fashion's pomp with supercilious stare But winding tracks o'er stones and stub ble brown, And creaking, swaying hayracks, laden down. And plodding horses, faithful, strong and staid, Unknown to style, left just as wisdom made. Above are stretched the heavens, vast, aloof strip of blue enframed by towering roof tantalize. Can hearts to love be dead Id these great gifts of beauty, freely spread? this hard work, take honest, hearty pride should Fame's sons in grand pro cession ride vehicles, insignia of their birth, homely hayrack soon would seem of worth. ly does the world forever venture so, th high built loads to pass through doorways low? proudest heads must do as we do now fore necessity and beams low bow. preacher? No. A farmer's boy as you .m again and see, I'll prove it, too. pitchfork, please—I'll help you mow away r. those who ride, their fare must al I' ways pay. jarion McArthur, in Ohio Farmer. MR. LIMINS' TOAST (From the Wansau, Wis., Philosopher, Re* printed by Special Permission.) «$, ILAS," said Mrs. Limkins, as she gave her chair a hitch to bring herself face to face with Mr. Limkins "1 have something to say to you. Put down that paper I want jour whole at tention." Mr. Limkins reversed the cross of his legs, and shifting his paper slightly so as to cover his face, continued to read. "I want you to wake up a little," con tinued Mrs. Limkins. "You are the most stupid man in this town. You come home from the office at night, eat j-our supper, smoke, read your paper and go to bed eat your breakfast in the morning and go to the office. You come home again at night, eat your supper, smoke, read your paper, go to bed and so it goes day after day. I dpn't get a dozen words out of you, day In and day out, and you do not even want to listen to me, when I talk. If I want to go out anywhere in the even ing, I have to go alone. You have al ways some excuse for staying at home. If I invite my friends here, you have usually some business that takes you out. My friends never see you with me, and hardly know I have a husband. "This sort of life may suit you, but It does not suit me. You have your business and other things to interest ou during the day, I suppose, while I am shut up here in the house and when you come home in the evening I want something else besides supper, smoke and Tribune. Now I intend to make a change." Here Mrs. Limkins deftly took the paper from Mr. Lim kins, and rolling it up in her hands, proceeded to use it to point off her re marks. Mr. Limkins yawned submissively, dumped the aslies from his cigar into the silver card tray, and settled himself as comfortably as possible to wait for the end. Mr. Limkins had heard these remarks many times before he knew the story from beginning to end, and also knew it was useless to try to es cape any part or defend himself in any way. Experience had taught him that it was best to sit quietly and take it— remaining silent to the end. "Silas," continued Mrst. Limkins, shaking the crumpled Tribune at him viciously. "I have made up my mind not to stand this sort of thing any long er all my friends take their husbands around with them and I have decided to .bring you out." Mr. Limkins said: "Oh," and grew nervous. Mrs. Limkins was evidently more determined than usual, and he began to fear that she had some sort of a scheme up her sleeve that would disturb his comfort. "The Daughters of the Revolution and their husbands are going to have a banquet next week," said Mrs. Lim kins. "There will be several toasts and I have arranged to have you respondlo the toast 'Our Sons.'" "Great Scott," exclaimed Mr. Lim kins, waking up and staring helplessly at her. "I will write out your speech," said Mrs. Limkins, paying no attention to his interruption "all you will have to do will be to commit it to memory and repeat it at the banquet." "Xo, by thunder," said Mr. Limkins, with considerable heat. "If I make a speech to your Daughters of the Revo lution it will not be any woman's make up, I can tell you. To begin with, I haven't time to monkey with any such nonsense but if I did I would make my own speech—and I wouldn't have to write it out first, either. Do you think I can't make a speech? Why, I could make a speech that would knock out anything any of year Revolution Daughters' husbands could do—just off-hand—Jim Perkins, Lem Stubbins or any of the rest of them. Mebbj-, you think because there are a lot of stuck up lawyers and professors in your set, that I can't trot in their class. Some ciay I'll fool you, Mrs. Limkins." And putting on his hat, Mr. Limkins blus tered out of the house leaving Mrs. Limkins in doubt as to whether he would, or would not, carry out her plans. This was just the sort of impression Mr. Limkins wanted to make on Mrs. Limkins, for from the very first men tion of it, he was rather taken with the idea of making that speech but did not want to appear too willing. Mr. Limkins belonged to a class of men who go through life with an idea that they are born for better things. Ever lastingly thinking that they could have •hone in some other fellow's place if they had had the opportunity. Men tally sure that they have a natural tal ent for some calling of which they know absolutely nothing. Mr. Limkins welcomed this oppor tunity as something he had always longed for but he wanted Mrs. Lim kins to think he was doing it under protest. As Mr. Limkins strode along in the moonlight, he felt particularly satis fied with himself and he made up his mind that his speech should be a mas terpiece. He would make Stubbins and Perkins turn green with envy. With that speech Jie would make a lasting reputation. Mrs. Limkins should know nothing about it in advance he would make it a complete surprise to her. And then how proud she would be of him and how much it would add to his advantage with her. He decided to tell Mrs. Limkins in the morning that he would make a speech just to please her, and though it were a matter of no conse quence to him. He would then spend the rest of his time before the banquet in arranging that speech, and fire it off as an entirely "extemporaneous" af fair. Thi very thought of the glory awaiting him as the result had an ex hilarating effect, and Mr. Limkins raised his chin in the air, clenched his fingers, and pranced along like a "three-year-old." The next morning as Mr. Limkins was leaving the house for his office, he said to his wife as he patted her on the head in a fatherly way: "Now, little woman, if it will please you I will make a few remarks at your banquet." "That's a dear, good boy," said Mrs. Limkins, "and you will let me write out something for you, won't you?" "No, little .woman," he replied, "I can't come down to that, you know but you shall not be ashamed of me." And Mr. Limkins went off, leaving Mrs. Limkins with some misgivings as to the final outcome of her plans. For when a woman has been the constant com panion of a man for 11 years, she is very apt to have a fair idea fhis men tal capacity. During the next few days Mr. Lim kins devoted the greater part of his time to the preparation of his "extem poraneous" speech. It was a matter of so much importance to him that he even neglected his business to a con siderable extent and when the morn ing of the day of the banquet arrived, Mr. Limkins had written out and com mitted to memory a speech that he considered very high-class. However, he felt that he needed a little practice in delivery and determined to let his clerks go home-early in the afternoon, in order to have the office all to himself for rehearsal. By three o'clock the last clerk had gone, and Mr. Limkins, after locking all the doors, began his recitation. However, he did not find this sort of practice at all satisfactory at first. The dead, bare walls of his of fice did not give back any encourage ment, and he tried1 again and again some particular sentences, with the same unfavorable results'. He felt that he could do better if he had some living thing to speak to—even if only a dog or a cat. He needed a living pair of eyes that he could fix with his eyes, in order to concentrate his attention and prop erly reach his climax. Now, in the shuffle of the closing out of the world's fair, among other odds and endsi that had been sold at auction, Mr. Limkins had come into possession of a small white donkey that had been used in the Streets of Cairo.. Mr. Lim kins made this purchase for Silas, Jr., and Silas, Jr.»boy-like, had, for the first few weeks of his possession, enjoyed the donkey to the fullest extent but the novelty had worn off.- The donkey was now an old story, and was allowed to fall into a state of innocuous desue tude—so far as Silas, Jr., was con cerned. Silas, Jr., who had tired of riding and driving the donkey, now seldom thought of him, and when he did think of him it was usually during one of those fits of ennui—which boys will have—and on these occasions, Silas, Jr., had for some time past been in the habit of going into the barn, accom panied by a long sharp pointed stick, with which he would prod the donkey into giving a first-class exhibition in high kicking. This sort of thing had been going on long enough to give the donkey considerable practice and he had already attained a very high rec ord for so small a donkey. Silas, Jr., had not, however, thought it neces sary to take anyone into his confidence regarding his late achievements with the donkey. When Mr. Limkins felt the need of some living thing to inspire his elo quence, this living relic of the "Mid way" very naturally came into his mind, He knew the donkey was at leisure, in the barn at home, and he at once de cided the donkey should have the bene fit of his rehearsal. A few minutes later Mr. Limkins entered his barn, closed and locked the doors behind him —and was alone with the donkey. Mr. Limkins prefaced his remarks with a few kind soothing words to his donkeyship, and taking a position im mediately in front of him, began his oration. The donkey was standing in the middle of the barn chewing some scraps of straw that were scattered about, and paid but little attention to his visitor at first but as Mr. Limkins got well into his subject and began to throw in a Delsarte movement here and there, he raised his head and seemed to take considerable interest. He peeked his long ears forward over his head in an inquiring way and eyed the speaker narrowly. This inquisitive attitude encouraged Mr. Limkins to still further effort and he became thor oughly warmed up. The donkey laid back his left ear. Mr. Limkins was nearing his climax, the donkey was nearing his. Those gestures became more and more famil iar and reminded him of other things. Mr. Limkins closed an eloquent period, shaking his fist right in the face of the donkey. Now, the donkey was of for eign birth, and could not be expected to appreciate an American speech any how—even under the most favorable circumstances. He laid back the other ear sudden ly changed ends and landed fairly on Mr. Limkins' seat of utterance. Mr. Limkins sat down violently on a pile of old tomato cans and otier rubbish in a remote corner of the barn, silent ly. but rapidly opening and shutting his mouth in a vain attempt to cry out but for the moment he lacked the necessary amount of air pressure to the square inch to produce sound. WBen he had taken in a sufficient amount to proceed out loud, his next few remarks were made without notes, and were of an entirely personal nature relating especially to the donkey and his don key mothers for several generations back. Mr. Limkins then proceeded to be very mean to the donkey and ended up by incasing him in a coil of clothes line, which he found in the barn. Around and around he wound the clothes-line until there was nothing of the donkey left visible but his head and ears. With the donkey in this helpless condition, Mr. Limkins took a fresh start at the beginning of his speech and recited it over and over again several times. Every time Mr. Limkins reached that particular cli max, and made those magnificent gest ures, there was a perceptible quiver in the bundle of clothes-line, which al ways cuused a slight break at that par ticular part, in the otherwise easy flow of Mr. Limkins' speech. At last Mr. Limkins felt that he could not improve by further practice, and, giving the bundle of clothes-line a parting kick, closed the interview. That night Mr. Limkins listened to the several speakers that preceded him, his heart swelled' with pride as he thought how favorably his speech would compare with any that had1 been delivered. It may be that it is im possible to impress a man that is so thoroughly interested in himself as was Mr. Limkins but be that as it may, Mr. limkins failed to find any thing worth noting. As he arose in his place to respond to "Our Sons," he felt confident that he would take his seat the hero of the evening. A slight nervousness, together with some impatience to reach his most impressive periods, made him talk rap idly at first and he also had some little difficulty in controlling his eyes, which showed' a decided tendency to wards a fixed stare.' However, he managed to vary the stare to some extent, and continued to db fairly well until he reached that particular part which the donkey had pointed off so persistently. At this point Mr. Limkins made a slight pause and could1 not recall his next few lines— although he made a heroic effort to do so. The picture of the donkey suddenly filled his mind to such an extent as to drive out everything else. For a mo ment it seemed impossible for him to get away from the scenes in the barn. One view after another swift ly chased each other through his mind. He wondered if anyone had found the donkey and set him free or whether he was still embalmed in the clothes-line. He wondered who would be the one to find him—whether,ithe cook, Silas, Jr., or one 01 the neigh bors. He speculated on the chances of having been seen entering the barn in the afternoon, and what ex planation he would make if ques tioned' about it. He thought it would have been wiser to have restored the donkey his liberty before he left him. He could see the sad, lonesome look in his face as it protruded from the bundle of clothes-line lying there through the long night on the cold floor of the barn. All this was but a few lightning flashes through Mr. Limkins' mind, and1 he was vainly trying to fix his thoughts on his subject. From this point Mr. Limkins was obliged to proceed in a truly "extemporaneous" manner. He wandered on tremulous ly—sometimes on the track, some times off, and sometimes partly on and partly off. Occasionally he would get glimpses of his prepared speech and when he did, he would eagerly fire them off—whether they fitted the place where they occurred to him, or not—sometimes getting things con siderably mixed. For instance, referring to Mr. Lim kins' notes at one place, he should have said: "Who can tell how great our sons may be, or what grand thoughts the fathers of,"—and1 Mr. Limkins, as he caught this- on the fly. challenged the company with: "Who-who can tell whose son he may be, or who his father was?" Again, in another place, according to the notes that were,stowed away in his inside pocket, he should have said: "Our forefathers, who for eight long years daily drank the bitter cup of want, that we might now De free -r- they never hoped for such development as this." And Mr. Limkins waylaid this as it went by. and waving his glass of wine before him, said: "Our forefa thers, who for eight long years daily dmnk—on that bitter cup that is now so free—they never dreamed—of any anything like this." All things must have an end and when the marks of approval, which Mrs. Limkins had been administering from beneath the table, became too pointed to longer overlook, Mr. Lim kins came to an end—abruptly. Side by side Mr. and Mrs. Limkins silently walked to their home that night and to Mr. Limkins there was an ominotis sound in the steady, de termined grinding of the snow and ice beneath Mrs. Limkins' feet. Occasion ally he stole a humble glance in her direction, but found nothing in the steady, sober face to give him hope. Sadly he turned into his street and as he still more sadly turned be neath an avenue of trees leading to his own door the moon came out in all her gentle glory the stars looked down and through the leafless branches the light of heaven shone bright and merciful. The wretched man turned back with a last longing look at t'he free, beautiful world with out, and then with head humbly bowed to meet the torrent of just wrath, which he knew was sure to fall upon him, he entered1 his cheerless home. As the door was closing behind him a peculiar, mocking cry rang out on the clear, frosty air—that inimitable combination of sounos which only members of the donkey tribe can pro duce. More Than She Bargained For. Foreign Nobleman—Do you think you can learn to love me, darling? American Heiress—What do you care? Isn't it enough that I have promised to marry you? Chicago Evening News. Parple Hair. From Paris comes the news that pur« pie hair will be the vogue this year. THE CHANGELING. A little babe with dimpled toes I used to hold upon my knee His face was sweeter than a rose. His eyes were blue as they could be And when liis smiling lips I kissed, He laughed and curled his little fist. Oh, he was good as he was sweeti He never used a naughty word When toddllnz on his weary feet, A gentle coo was all I heard. He never whined, and never knew The way to pout as big boys do. And Where's he now? I do not know. Perhaps the fairies captured him. (I'm sure he did not want to go.) Perhaps some ogre, dark and grim. Has locked him in a castle old. Without his mother's hand to hold. Tou cannot wonder I am sad. Or that my eyes at times are wet. The changeling does not make me glad, He does not wish me to forget And when he vexes me the more, I think of him I had before. Oh, he is pretty, too. I own. This changeling, with his violet eyes But he has such a churly tone. He can't be pleasant if he tries. The ogre might have left a child With manners more polite and mild. He won't do this, he will do that, He doesh't care for "crusts of things He doesn't like hife new straw hat, And so he tears it off, and flings The horrid thins upon the floor, Remembering to slam the door. He is the ogre's, I conclude For I am sure he is not mine. His manners are so rough and rude. What can I do but sit and pine, And long to stroke the golden hair Of him who was so sweet and fair? —Anthony E. Anderson, in Golden Days. THE JAPANESE FROG. A. Clever Paper Toy Which Can Be Made Without Much Trouble by Any lloy or Girl. The little folks in Japan make some very interesting paper toys, and none is more interesting than the frog manu factured out of green paper. First cut a piece of paper into a square much larger than you expect the frog to be. Draw lines from the four corners of the square and from the middle of the sides. First fold the paper along the diagonal lines, then turn it over on the other side and fold it along the lines from the sides. It will then form- a kind of box, which can be pressed to- JAPANESE PAPER FROG. gether along the fold's in the shape of an unequal diamond. Now, seizing the paper below the ends of the cones, fold it backward so as to have two or more regular equal points. When this has been done to each of the eight cones the re sult will be a perfect diamond, with a smaller diamond in the center. Then each one of the cones must be folded again so as to get all the points around the center. Care must be taken to get the points as even and equal as possi ble. To finish the frog, turn the upper points out so that they spread and form the forelegs, and the lower points so that they form the hind legs. When it is finished a fine thread may be at tached to the frog's body, and by care ful jerks it almost seeins to leap around on the floor or table. The paper used should be stiff enough to retain the folds as given to it, but not so brittle as to break under the handling. Do not be discouraged if the first frog you make is lame, for then it is certain that the points have not been folded evenly. —St. Louis Globe-Democrat. FOOLED HIM TWICE. Bat (he Third Time the Dog Knew It Was a Joke and Laughed at His Master. Shepherd dogs are noted for their intelligence, and many instances are given of their understanding ordinary conversation, as well as the familiar commands that are addressed directly to them. A story is told of a shepherd who once said to his dog, which was lying in a corner by the fire: "I am think ing. sir, the cow is in the corn." Though he purposely laid no stress on the words, the dog. which had ap peared to be asleep, got quickly up, and leaping through an open window scrambled up the turf roof of the house, when he could overlook the field. But the cow was not in sight, as the shepherd knew, and the dog. descending, ran into the farm yard to make sure of the animal's where abouts. Finding the cow there,. he trotted back to the house and re sumed his place by the fire. After awhile the shepherd, in a qniet tone, repeated what he had said before, and again, with ready obedi ence. the dog went out to seek the cow. When he had once more stretched himself before the fire the shepherd uttered the words for the third time, but the dog then appeared to understand the joke, for he got up, wagged his tail, and looked at the shepherd with a gleam of humor in his eyes, as if to say: "My master, you're merry!" Nor did he offer to go out, but when his master and a visitor laughed he gave a growl of satisfaction and returned to his cor ner.—Cincinnati Enquirer. Old Roman Falatlaga Foand. At Bosco Reale, on the slope of Ve suvius, near Pompeii, where the great silver treasure was found a few years ago. recent excavations have brought to light some of the most remarkable paintings of the Roman period yet discovered. In the grounds of the Del Prisco villa a great peristyle and four large rooms have been unearthed, the walls of which are covered with 20 large frescoes of rich coloring and more careful execution than any hith erto known. The figures are of life size. DOG CARRIES MAIL. Twice a Day He Lnga a Heavy Baa from the Railroad Station to the Post Office. Of all the mail carriers Uncle Sam has in this big country, none is more novel than a dog out in central Kan sas, whose duty it is to meet a pas senger train twice daily and take the heavy mail sack to his master's store. The post office of Das'ton is a little country trading point and the single store is 30 rods from the Mis souri Pacific track, where, morning and night, the passenger train goes whizzing past at 30 miles an hour. From the mail car a leather sack is, thrown off by the mail clerk, and the postmaster, the owner of the big St. Bernard, "Nep," is supposed to pick it up and take it to the store. He used to do so, but now the duty de volves upon the dog, who has learned to do it well. When the sharp whistle of the train is heard Nep gives an excited bark III I NEP CARRYING THE MAIL. and hurries to the crossing and waits for the coming of the mail. The mail clerk kicks the leather bag out of the car door and it falls somewhere the vicinity of the road. Nep at once goes to the sack and carefully taking it by the middle, so that neith er end will drag on the ground, walks sedately to the store, where he lays the sack down behind the counter by the side of the wooden letter-case, into which the mail is soon distrib uted. Day after day he performs this task, rain or shine. The mail clerk watches for him. and the people of the community are as proud of him as they would be of a bright child. Nep is four years old, but is two feet seven inches in height and weighs 250 pounds. He has no difficulty in carrying the sack, though the mail is often very heavy with the weekly papers from the county seat, for his teeth are strong and he has carried over 100 pounds as a test of his strength. He seems likely to perform the semi-official task for many years to come, and the people of his commun ity think that he is entitled to a sal ary for his services. The train men do not forget to throw off something nice for him to eat on holidays, but even though the gift is a toothsome bit of game or other meat, he never touches it until the mail of Uncle Sam is safe in the post office.—Chicago Record. WHERE IT CAME FROM. Our Word Dollar la of German Orlgltk aad Has Been In Use for Many Centnrle*. Our word dollar dates back to 1785, when a resolution was passed by con gress which provided that it should be the unit of money of the United States. Another resolution was passed in 1785, August 5, providing that it should weigh 375.04 grains of pure silver. The mint was established in 1792, and then required to coin silver dol lars containing 371.25 grains of pure silver. This was due to the influence of Alexander Hamilton. No dollars were coined until 1794, and then irregular. They are worth now $100 each. In 1794 the coinage of regular dollars began. Our coin, says Golden Days, was an adaptation of the Spanish milled dol lar. a coin very popular wherever the Spaniards traveled. The coin was called "piastre," meaning a flat piece ot metal it is synonymous with pias ter. It is supposed that the Spaniards took the German "thaler"' and called it by the name of "piaster." The word dollar is entered in Bai ley's English dictionary of 1745, and was used repeatedly by Shakespeare at the beginning of the seventeenth century, especially in MaebeA, II.: 2, 02: "Till she disbursed ter thousand dollars to our general use," and in the "Tempest," II.: 1,17. The question where Shakespeare found the word dollar is answered by the fact that the Hanseatic towns maintained a great establishment called the Steel Yard in London. The Steel Yard merchants were mostly North Germans, who would calk the German thaler as if it spelled "dahler." The same merchants originated the word sterling, an abbreviation of the word "esterling." As the Hanseatic trade was particularly brisk on the Baltic and in Russia, the standard coins of the Hanse merchants were called esterlings, and sterling came to mean something genuine and de sirable. The word dollar is the English for thaler, the first of which was coined about 1485, and corresponds quite closely to our present American sil ver dollars. The word thaler means "coming from a dale or valley the first dollar having been coined in a Bohemian valley called Joachimis thal. It was under Charles V.. the emperor of Germany, king of Spain and lord of Spanish America, that the German thaler became the coin of the world. And Good One, Too. Brown—John Spriggs was chased by two footpads last night. They asked him for his wallet, but he outfooted them. Smith—Well, he got a run for his money.—Yonkers Herald. Hard on the Profeaaloa. "John, our doctor is recommending Welsh rabbit as a breakfast dish."' "Well, you see through that, don't you? He's getting so lazy that he doesn't want to be called out at night." —Indianapolis Journal. EVERGREEN HEDGES. Aa an Effective Windbreak and a Real Ornament to the Farm Tliey Have No Equal. In planting evergreens for a wind break, it is well to remember that the best results are obtained when the trees $re closely branched clear to the ground, thus giving an upward curv ing surface that seems to turn the wind upward, giving protection to a building even taller than the row of trees. This idea is shown in the cut, the dotted line showing the direction of the wind. If the trees are not thick at their bases the wind will not be thus deflected up ward and the chief value of the hedge as a windbreak is lost. And right here it is to be remembered that to secure an evergreen tree close branched to the ground the trees must EVERGREENS AS WINDBREAKS, not be planted too closely together. When evergreens crowd each other the crowded portion is quite sure to die out, leaving open spaces for'the wind to blow through. In setting out a wind break, therefore, put the trees far enough apart so that when they be come of average size they will form a compact screen. In setting out small trees one is always in danger of setting them too near together, whether they be fruit trees or ornamentals. The ul timate size of the tree must always be kept in mind when setting it out. It is asserted by those who have had ex perience that a double row of ever greens do not afford so good a protec tion from the wind as a single row that has grown up into a compact hedge, since the double rows so shade some of the trees that they do not grow well. In transplanting evergreens it is im portant to keep the roots from becom ing dry and to give plenty of moisture after setting. When the roots of an avergreen get thoroughly dried out its chances for life are very small, indeed. —N. Y. Tribune. MUST USE WIDE TIRES. ProvLalona of an Excellent Law Paaaed by the Progressive teg ialatora of Masaacliusetta. The wide-tire law, passed by the Mas sachusetts legislature through the ef forts of the Massachusetts division of the League of American Wheelmen, pro vide^^at on and after January l*tftf3^ "It shall be unlawful, except as pro vided in secti&n 4 of this act, to use upon any road, street or way in this commonwealth a draft wagon or cart having tires of iron or steel, or of any substance equally hard, which are less in width than one and one-half times the diameter of the axle, measured at the shoulder thereof but in no case shall a tire more than four inches in width be required, and wagons and carts built with wooden or hollow axles shall have tires not less in width than the diameter of the axle, measured at the shoulder thereof. "This act shall apply to all wagons and carts the axles of which are two inches or more in diameter, measured as aforesaid, and to all stage coaches, tallj-ho coaches, barges and other pas senger vehicles not built to run on iron or steel rails and constructed to carrj eight or more persons." The fourth section states tli'at the act shall not apply to wagons or otlier vehicles owned and used in the state on January 1, 1902. This is the weak clause in the bill, putting off the best' effects of the law for many years. The penalty for violation of the law is a fine not exceeding $100. Advantage* of Hay Cai»». At the present prices of cotton cloth a set of good hay caps a yard square would sometimes pay for themselves in a single season, when a wet spell catches the farmer with a lot of hay nearly cured enough for the barn. It is both provoking and a sure loss to have a good crop of what should have been good hay converted into bedding or something worse than that, after one has worked two or three days to get it fit for the barn. Yet we have often seen this happen. A cap a yard square will cover a good-sized tumble of hay or shock of grain, as if it does not reach the ground it is enough to have the top well covered if the heap is prop erly made. We have heard some say that the hay would spoil by heating under the cap, but we never have had it do so.—Prairie Farmer. System of Selling Fruit. Cooperative marketing ot fruits should be encouraged. The losses that occur to fruit men every time we have a good crop of any kind of fruit dis courage the fruit growers. The quan tities of peaches that rot on the glut ted markets would bring pleasure to a multitude of consumers. It is the hit or-miss method of distribution that is largely responsible for the losses. The systematic distribution of fruit, will be the forerunner of better methods for utilizing the surplus of fruit and of kepping it until it can be used by the people. Planting Treea for Timber. The planting of waste land to trees for timber is receiving more attention than formerly. Farmers who planted trees 20 years ago now find that they then made good investments. It is claimed that cherry and hickory trees require about 30 years before they are valuable for timber maple trees, 20 years, and black walnut, 15 years. A black walnut tree is said to attain from. IS to 15 inches in diameter in 15 years from the seed. Nuts are also a source of profit with some growers t( timber. COMBINATION CROPS. A Mixture of Fruit Growing and Mar ket Gardening That Posaeaaea Muiiy Advnntagea. I always like to make the best use of every' available foot of land. For instance, I have set a new strawberry plantation this spring (as I invariably do every spring). Most people set the plants a foot apart in the rows. With rows four feet apart this takes about 11,000 plants to the acre. When I have varieties that are good plant-makers, such as Splendid, Warfield, Crescent, Bubach, Haverland, and in fact most others. I set the plants not less than three feet apart in the rows, and often as much as four feet apart. Even then, as I look over the patch set in this way last spring, I find that I kave too many plants in the row. Plants might be set five feet apart and yet make a good matted row. In the first place, I have this saving of plants, as I need only 3,000 plants to the acre instead of 11,000, like most other growers. Then I have a better matted row, and I also have a lot of space left for im mediate use that I can devote to cab bages or other crops which will be off by the time that the ypung run ners will need the room. My com bination last year was strawberries and cabbages, a cabbage-plant being set midway between each two straw berry-plants. To-day you cannot see by the looks of the patch that the berry-plants were set so wide apart, or that any other crop was grown be tween them. This j'ear I have a double combination namely, strawberries, cabbages and onions. The ground is laid off in rows 28 inches apart. Straw berry-plants are set four feet apart in every other row. Between the strawberry-plants in the row I have set Prizetaker and Gibraltar onion plants, the latter to be pulled up for buncli-onions as soon as large enough, which will give to the strawberry plants the whole row as soon as they need it. The middle row, between the strawberry rows, is planted with early cabbages and cauliflowers. This ar rangement will necessitate close culti vation and prompt attention to all these crops right along.—Farm and Fireside. CARE OF YOUNG TREES. Simple Contrivance for Gnardlag Agalnat Snn Scald andEltecta of Heavy Winds. Young trees need protection against the severe heat of the sun, also protec tion against the whipping power of the wind. Set stakes east and west of the newly-set fruit tree and run a cord VfUtauivhs&f,., 11 J*" PROTECTING YOUNG TREES. from one to the other, winding the cord about the tree as it passes. Tie a piece of burlap on the south side of the tree as shown and the tree will be protected from whipping by wind and from the sun. A piece of leather or old rubber hose should be put around the tree and the cord tied around this to prevent cutting in the bark and injuring or kill ing the tree. This method will be found very effective in preventing sun scald.—American Agriculturist. NOTES FOR THE SEASON. Treat- the rose slugs to a dose of paris green and water. Dusting in the early morning with powdered white hellebore is effectual treatment for the currant and goose berry worm. Shading celery plants, cabbage, etc., for a few days after transplanting is good practice, especially if the weath er is warm and dry. Boards eight or ten inches wide, supported over the row on bricks, laid on edge, will answer well. Picking off the seed pods as soon as the flowers fade saves the vital force of the plant for another season. What is probably better is to gather the flow ers in their perfect condition and have them in water in the house, or give them to friends or to the sick. The young grafts and buds in their first season's growth will need atten tion occasionally. The sprouts will come out very freely from the stock and will act as robbers if left alone. They must be rubbed off from time to time, being careful to do no injury to the growing bud or graft.—National Farmer. The Influence of Shade. Experiments to find the influence of shade upon garden crops show that shade retards germination of the first crop of lima beans, but not of the mid summer planting. All root crops, as turnips, carrots and potatoes, grow larger leaf surface in shade, but small er roots. Shade improves salad crops, noticeably celery. With seed or fruit producing plants, as beans, peas, egg plants, tomatoes and cucumbers, the time of blooming is retarded and the period of fruitfulness prolonged. The foliage becomes a deeper green in the shade with a tendency to increase the size of the blade of the leaf.—Midland Farmer. An Indiana Corn Standard. Following is the standard adopted at the recent meeting of the Indiana Corn-Growers' association: A perfect ear of corn in the northern third of the state should be nine inches in length in the central third, ten inches in the southern third, 11 inches. The diameter of the ear should, be equal to one-fourth of the length. The ear should yield 90 per cent, of grain by weight. The ear should taper slightly, approaching the cylindrical to near the point. It should be well filled out at both ends, with the rows regular and straight. Dis qualifications: Red cob in white corn, or white cob in yellow com.