Griggs courier., October 03, 1901, Image 6

About Griggs courier. (Cooperstown, Griggs Co., Dak. [N.D.]) 1885-1902

Image provided by: State Historical Society of North Dakota

                
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11
SEPTEMBER.
Two and by two fly the doves through the
timber, ft, i^,
the red sunset's far lines j& fo
v'Bast the tall, sentinel pines & -i js
Dip the long wlllow-tlps, yellowjisnd
limber, \W
^Down where the dark water shines,, f0
Glowing in hollo||i, what* floats the be^t
sickle,
8clmltar-llke of the moon:
Where the round sand-eddies croon
Down where the sinuous brook-currents
trickle, ... &
Dripping 'through rook-niches hewn, "j
Two and by two stoop the doves to the
willows,
Where the wind's whisperings pass
Through the wet reeds and the grass,
Down where the river its still bosbtn
pillows,
Gray and transparent as glass. $5 v-Oi.
Two and by two,.drift the bronse upland
plover,- 1
Blrd-^hapesfKrb' mMt-spqies "blown,
Over jthe jneadows new- mown
And 1 andthe n%ht, like a'ilass land, her
tdfefi•?.£• f- |r'
Meet 1n the twilight alone.
—Earnest McGtaffey, kt Woman's Home
£qppaaloiu
e+e+e+e+e+e+e4-e+e+e+e+e+e+
I ffceBoyand tbef
oiniii.j
•''SSfe&i
"By A. Myers.
••••••••fo+e+e-t-e+e-M-M-t-e-fre
KIN?
RSI:
THE CONSULTING-ROOM.
HAT'S a fellow to do, Doc
tor?"
You blithering idiot. Go
hojiie if you can't give it up."
••fTo names, Doctor dear. Shure it's'
mepilf that hasn't got the
mdney."
'[Where's the £200 you had last
Monday?"
8^ence* UP by
^••You'v* -only
tTU- com*
ybay." if
ipers together*
Two and by twi go thi
Figures in dusky relli
Bearing the: scythe the Sheaf
Where the keen tang'f ot the Autumriy
weather I
"Perfumes each hlossaftn%nd leaf.
passage
Griffjllu blew a silent but sig
nt ejaculation out of his cigar-
ett|»
and lay back with a smile in
thef doctor's leathern armchair.
'She's devilish pretty," he paid,
aftl$r a moment's silence.
phat'8 the word," responded the
doctor, feynically.
irftng
energetic
'Tjjan't think why you bother your
hea|l about me, Doc."
"j|an't think why I fa, except—
Pve seen such a'lot. of chaps—
lie same, wiy."' .s(jf f-'
flush mopitjed t&thelad's facei
ose and turned his back---a strong
:ular back—to his friend, r,
ell, tra-la-la."
ere are you going?"
the Devil, Doctor dear.1*
the door closed sofltly.
1
jfc* II. I.
•'II% AT THE DEVIL'S.?
"j^ou're late, Tommy."
T»r answer he drew a low chair up
beside her*.
"May I smoke?"
S|e held a lighted match to his
cigarette. He puffed for a moment,
thej| drew the hand to .his lips.
V^u'relooking awfully fit to-nighti
What's that thing you've got on. I
haven't seiEfnlf befofe.'*"""""'
"That's the New Creation Flam
and's. She says "I'm the-onlyWOmari
here vjrho could wear it. It's copied
from a print pf Louis^ d« ^.V^li^i«^
Tommy didn't inow wfeo Loulse de
la Valliere was, so he nodded .wisely.
"Did you have a j^aid day?" 1
"No. Licked 'ein easily. Why didn't
you*
"Who was -there?"
"All the pretty women. They'd
have looked ugly beside yoii."
She smiled^A'l ^rejpre^, Ii
not? That's *Wiy yoiiiiike infei- Isn't
it?" ,,,
H^ SlBfiiSjaiilftia i^the liafds^ lace
about her neck and las^Qdi it. He w^18
perilously near ter Mce, tut slie did
not move except for the fqfotly ac
celerated pulsation of her ireastt
"Doc wants to send me home"
She.: smiled^ bitterly. i'^Out of" my
way J",:
:,o.i
.-•••
"Why do. you let li^in malign you,
Pleurette?"
An undercurrent pf controlled pas
sion escaped him.
"They—-I—we're none of us fit to tie
"You're silly now, Tommy. Don't
idealize. I don^t pretend, to you. They
—pay for my fsilkii Don't you?" The
sentences cune wit^i 4iAc|dty. She
let her fingers slide along her skirt,
smoothing the soft foldf.She laughed
intj
hiB
y-:Her
eyes,:but there was a tired-
nesg in .hers that hurt binu,
"I love silks—and-*scents—and—
flowers—and luxury. They're 'meat
and drink to me."
"And we pay for them—and jolly
glad* to get the chance, too—to have
the tpleaBure -of looking at you," he
said| hotly. -Si':
"And—to kiss me—sometimes."
"I darie swear," he said indifferent
ly. t"A man would, be a .f(ol not .tp
try.**
"But—you never have, Tommy."
voice was-very-lowi-:-:-1-:'•
He flushed' red., "No, deir."
Asid tl^Rj „Pl^jirette did a funny
thing. Sh6 put her arms rotind the
boy*g neck and idiiaed^ him ^ii tlw lipa
He o^dn't move,
"1
!loiri 'you, Tommy, I love you!"
"X^believe yoti my dear." His
lrtr inns and ihe smiled agpain ihto liis
haj th? doubt,
you'vbelieve -in me. Incredi-
v#'-I must go, Fleurette.*
„r,-
2&X
1
vt* r\
\"And t0»iii
Aid Doo
that, audit
"Pleurette."
"Tommy."
"I can't give you silks and cushion*
and flowers."
"And—I -can't do without .them—
deari"!
1 in.
...XNVTHJS CONSULTING-ROOM.
^ulte! Back again?" The doctor
ha4&'fe moved from j|iis placid position,
save in the shifting of it big tome
which lay open at his elbow.
"Yes. I'm restless. Give. me an
opiate/'
"Not I. Look "at tlipLs diagram of
the battle of Omduraxin."
"Oh, d—m Omdurmin." •.
"Quite so,/quite BO. pHave a drink.
The Whisky's behind jjbu, brandy to
the left." i-M
"Doc,: that girl's as good as they're
made."
Quite so, quite so. They've all
aaid so. Never knew one that wasn't."
"I tell you, Doc
The'doctor flicked some ash off his
waistcoat. There was a pleasant
flavor of cigar-atmosphere in the
room, homely and pervading.
"It's serious, then."
•^Devilish serious." J-*.--?
"Well, ask her to marry you."
Tommy laughed. There was
curious strain in his voice.
"She wouldn't, Doe."
"Have you tried?"
'"Yes."
The boy "buried his face In his
hands. "She's fond of me," he gulped
out.
'She's fonder of the Devil."
No, only of silks and things—
dolls and sweets."
"Did she tell you so?"
"Yes."'
The doctor Whistled and finally
brought out his first remark: "My
boy, go home."
Yes, ySb, I will, I will. I'll go
home—home." i'
IV. *k
A ^AG-END OP CONVERSATION ON
THE "PHILOMEL."
"What's the run going to be to-day,
Jack?"
Fabert lounged up to them.^
"Can't. I'say, that chap Griffiths—
by Jove—I never saw such' a chap.
Ten whiskys and it's not 11 o'clock
yet, and' as fit as a fiddle, fity, isn't
it?"
He's-going home. Shipped: out, and
should reckon shipped back. Some
thing about a girl.! The best of them
isn't-worth the spoiling of a boy like
that. I've half a mind to try and
pull him in. Stick tight and preach
the guv'nor,' and 'prove yourself a
man,' and all the rest of it."
'He's too deep in now. He'd think it
an awfully good joke, and have the
whole ship down on you, Saint Fa
bert."
Fabert Sighed. "I'm sorry for the
lad."
He'll get over it. They all do.
What will the run be? 384?",
Haven't the ghost of an idea.
who had accosted him lit a cigarette.
'•NeverMhget"any£King"^t-6fihaC
chap. He's so close and so selfish."
-V V.
TO,. T£(OMAB GRIFPETHSEH^IIP
1
i.
*\y
lU-
Jack1 nodded his bald, grey-fringed
head wisely.
Ye- maun consult the- second en
gineer. He 'khows more about it than
I do." i'
"Hullo, Fabert, We're just, talking
about you. Come and give jis a tip."
&M. f'l fc New Year's.,Day. ...
Dear Tommy—Your letter ^aehed
me in the, middle of a supp^i]
with your pal Timothy and thSj^yner
girls. At the next table was
grave. 'Wfien ~slie™was^^elly®l!elie.tt=
she was grateful to me for mgrAeast
off gowns'.'' She cut me dead.,1:1 was.
tremendously amused, and we. drank
her health. Good champagne. Tommy.
Why weren't you thefe? We also drank
yours, and thei^—I don't know^why—
but mine suddenly tasted1all wrong.
Best. Perrier-Jouet, too! Then, in
comes tiie Prince. He had been to my
place, and Milly told him where we
.were, so he brought up my letters.
One was yours, the other a provoking
bill from Flamand, who refuses to
make my new tea-gown until her
"little account" is settled. Little ac
count, indeed! £74. I couldn't help
letting a tiny tear drop on the Prince's
glove, and he swore he'd wipe out the
debt with his blood. But I'd sooner
have cash. And I lent him the fifty
I borrowed from you the other jda^
to pay a debt of honor, so "I know
he hasn't got any. I'm sending yon
by the same post £30 of the' amount
you lent me. How did I get it? Well,
I was liicky at the races on Saturday,
and if something comes off before
next,.Wednesday—I won't tell 'you
what, as it's a dead secret with the
•Prince—I'll hand you over the balance
next week and clear off Flamand too.
Oh dear, how I want money—and how
I love you, Tommy dear. I laugh and
joke with Tim and the others, but
my heart is heavy. Timmy calls me.
He asks me to sing "Du fragst mich
taglich" and "Ich libe dich," and I sit
down to the piano but instead my
fingers play "Ich grolle nicht," and I
find the tears getting into my voice.
Heigh-ho! Are you playing the good
brother in Ireland? Taking Molly to
the rectory to have tea with the one
and only curate, and pndtingTTorah
Malone through the mazes of cro
quet? There isn't any Norah Malone?
CHi, yes thfere is, but maybe she goes
by another name- She's small and
round, with innocent blue eyes and
a flouting mouth, pink and white all
over, and sunny hair. Have you told
her yet that it's like Wisps Of gold?
Jealous? Of course I'm: jealqija, .Tom*
my dear. But I think you'd like oys
ters and champagne like we had on
vfis /''ji v.* VWJ&,.'
r-
B.I i'lK'DU-
*mr blrthdfy-dp ^^nember,hw1
Tim spilt the mayonnaise over my sew
wn'/TT-better fv^hyHVMhjr
hread »nd.butter aad ptffttl
'ingenuA ever' erected by Pinero
fid company. Come back,''
vite you again, and. give you lovely
cushitihed chair all^ to yoters^if, and
sing reveriei and cradle^ibhgs and
lot&
love-songs—oh yes, especially
songs—to you till jrou jihut your
mouth ^tKlriBMr-what am IsayMg?
No. no, let us be: caraful^ and oold-w
surtout cold. But one littl^ kiss doep
not matter, doe^ it? Just before one
goes out into the idght-r-which, is n»..
callous, :B6 indifferent. "And so' I bid'
you farewell, Tommy dear. Hope for
a letter.next week.: It willvme^n my
luck id in. Your Pleurette.
'3t4r* -i- VI.,
CHEZ F»APA.
W* no gbodi Dad,' I've istuck to it
•is. months and it's killing- me by
inchest. I'll have to go."
Tliey were'seated in the big boOk
Hned libaray. 'Thomas 'Griffiths, sen
ior,. upright in his, red leathern chair,
calm and dignified, observed his son
from beneath acute, shaggy eyebrows.
So see? Itfethe young blood again
he sighed. "I thought you had sown
your oats, but it seems there's atill
a plentifdl' crdp."
"Indeed, dad, you're wrong. Pll
be as, 'Steady as the Inchcape Bock,
but—-I must get away. I'm choking."
"Can't brook restraint. Home ties
—what aire 'they? Brittle as paper,
solid as water. My son!" He turned
over thei leaves of the "Graphic" with
a large paper-knife, and let his eyes
rest yacwntly on the pictures. Sud
denly, he spoke again.
"Of course, there's a woman. Will
you tell me who and what she is1?"
The roots of Tommy's hair blushed
a quivering red.
"There's no woman," he said, after
a pause.
"'And before the cock crows ye
shall deny me thrice!' Olove!"
Through the stained-glass window
fell shafts from the westering sun.
Long shadows lay across the thick
pile carpet, the face of the old man
gleamed like the emotionless stern
ness of a sculpture in the dying light.
"You are choosing, Thomas," he
said at last. "My way or thy way.
There is no going back. My fortune
goes to your sister' if you thwart me.
I: can allow you nothing any more."
"I can't stick it, dad," he repeated
doggedly. "I'm sorry to cross you,
but the fever's in my blood. The bat
tle-cries drown the voice of agricul
ture."
"You are not in the army?"
"The battle-cry of life, dad, of'the
world—the struggling—the swimming
to shore, the huzzas, the champagne.
I must get back to it, sink or swim."
Mr. Griffiths rose. "I don't speak
your language Thomas. I belong to
the old school, I suppose. You have
gone beyond me. Unless you change
your mind before to-morrow week our
ways lie apart. Do not seek to alter
my decision. You know my—shall we
cjjall it—obstinacy? Good-night."
Upstairs in the boudoir of his dead
Wife Thomas Griffiths, senior, un
locked an escritoire. Drawing out a
miniature of a little lad in a Scotch
suit', he held, it to the light, while diag
onal lines from nostril, to mouth,
deepened into ploughed furrows.
"He should have been named Ab
salom," he said bitterly.
VII.
PLEURETTE.
a a
bolt upright. She waited breathlessly.
The door handle was iinpatiently
turned and a sunburnt man stood
bareheaded in the middle of the room.
"Tommy!"
Tommy didn't say anything. He
'^evoured her \yith his eyes, from the
Sjpher serge gown to the bangleleas
relists.'
:"What does it mean, Fleurette?",
iShe laughed, but the blood flared in
her cheeks.
"What an awful time since I've seen
you? 1 believe you've grown."
"What does it mean, Fleurette?"
'?What does what mean? Don't be
so silly, Tommy. You look as if you
were 'going to eat me."
"Tell me, please."
"Don't you like it?"
Tommy spoke slowly. "No, I like
the gew-gaws, frills and things.
JVhere are they?"
"I've changed—tired of them. I'm
capricious. You haven't said you're
glad to see me."
He looked at her with such intensity
that she stirred uneasily.
... "Come and tell me all you've seen
and done. I've been hungering for
y°P"
"Is that true?" .""""
"Of course not. Do you think I
sfhould say so if it was? I want to be
polite."
They sat down, and a strained si
lence fell between them. Tommy
broke it diffidently.
"I've got a billet with a chap who
came out oh my boat. He's on
'change.' A speculator, rich as Croe
sus. I get £30 a month and pros
pects."
"It will keep you in tobaci
"I'm not sure. It will give us oy»*
ters once in a way."
"I don't ^ike oysters any more,
Tommy."
"It will buy an occasion fichu."
"I—don't like fichus.".
"It will let us ask Tim and the
Prince and Miliy-^-r-"
"Milly'a married, and—I haven't
seen Tim or the Prince for sis
montibts."
Tommy got up and paced the room.
"Then what in the world's to pre
vent na—to prevent you-rto prevent
"I don't know, Tommy dear. Ex*
cept that you won't ask me."
"Nioi,. wotti by Jupiter. I'll take
you without aeking."
"Oh! -Fleurette, Fleurette.** Th«
boy's sobs betrayed the man. And
Do» waa best man after all.—Idler.
H&. &
v..,
A
OS-
HUMOROUS.
*!Hd joo tip- the nWteri^ "Bp
idm? lip. .But If he doesn't, get
around mighty soon I'll upset him."—
rintpiftadianapolis News.
VAtfx, th*ft
to-day was my birthday." "Pardon
me^: dldnH thfnk it jiii possible that
you were really year olden'^-r-FUo
gende Blaetter.
:r Oldhainme*-^Yo^uiiig' mibi"hhi(v^!
IdeW. iHave an idea^ I «y, and -hug
it tp your, bosom at all timea and
places." Youngdogge—"8he wouldn't
allow me."—Sacred Heart Beview
First Boxer—"Every foreign 4^11
'who's been here is* now writing a
book oh China!" Second Boxer (shud
dering) —'.'Suppose the .powers .sen
tence us to read thekh!Sttngaga
Nisse.
A Tramp Kasily Pleased.—"You
needn't ask me for any cold -vietuals,
'for I haven't any." Weary Willie—
?A11 right, ma'fcm—a cot^» o*
-hoiied. eggs, a broiled steak and
cup o' cofCee'll do."—-Philadelphia
Becord.
Un-American.—"She keeps a strict
ly American boarding-house, doesn't
Bhe?" "Yes, and that makes it seem
all the more- out of place that so'
many of her boarders should take
French leave."—Philadelphia Evening1
Bulletin.
An Oversight.—'Thi Visiting team
Came to bat for the last time and
made tight runs, just enough to win
"Yah!" shouted the victorious cap
tain, "I thought you said you could
Bee
our finish at the beginning."
?'So I did," replied the other doleful
ly, "but I couldn't see your big in
ning at the hnish!
"—Philadelphia
Press.
Just Iike a Woman.—"Them
women operators make me tired,1'
said the first telegraph operator, as
he opened his switch "What's the
matter now?" asked the second tele
graph operator. "One of 'em was
just in here and wanted to know why
we wouldn't let her put a postscript
to a ten-word message, without
charging her extra. Said it wasn't
part of the message* anyway-."—^Balti
more American.
A BRITISH SPY'S BONES.
The Hanging of latent. Daniel T«rlor
la the Revolatlonary Ww Re
called by Late Find.
The finding at Hurley, N. Y., of what
is believed to be part of the skeleton
of Lieut. Daniel Taylor, who was
hanged as a British spy at that place
in 1777, recalls an interesting incident
of the revolution. It was first record
ed by Lossing in his ''Field Book of the
Bevolution," as it was related to him
by Maj. Bartlett at Little Britain, in
this county, in 1850. The major was
a survivor of the revolution and then
nearly 90, says the New York Sun.
It happened in October, 1777, when
Gov. George Clinton's command was
encamped at Little Britain, and the
British Gen. Clinton was endeavoring
to make a junction with Burgoyne and
relieve that officer's desperate straits.
On the night of October 10,1777, as the
story is, Lieut. Brown, of the Amer
ican army, captured within the lines
a suspicious person, who proved to be
Lieut. Daniel Taylor, of the, enemy's
forces. Taylor' was taken before Gov.
Clinton', whbse name had deceived himi
into thinking he was in the hands of
friends. When he discovered his mis
take he quiekly removed some object
from his pocket, placed it in.his mouth
and swallowed it.
This aroused the suspicion of Gov.
Clinton, who ordered a powerful emet
ic to be forced into the British officer's
stomach, the effect of which was the
reappearance'of the swallowed object.
It was found to.be a silver globe, evi
dently hollow. The removal of ascre^r
permitted it to separate into two
parts, within which a piece of paper,
fo'died up into smalt compass, was dis
covered. This paper was a message of
importance from Gen. Clinton to Gen.
Burgoyne.
Lieut. Taylor was tried by court
martial axid condemned to be hanged
as a spy. The order came to Gov. Clin
ton. just at that time to move against
the British, who were at Kingston,
and this movement 'postponed the
hanging of the British lieutenant.
When Clinton's command arrived at
Kingston, October 16,1777, the British
had burned that place and retreated
to Rondout, where they emttarked in
their ships on the Hudson. The Amer
ican forces went into camp at Hurley,
and there, on October 18, the con
demned spy was hanged.
For many years after the revolution
and until a date.Within the memory of
many still living thereabout, the tree
upon which Lieut. Taylor was hanged,
stood at Hurley, and was known as the
Spy- Tree, although few knew why.
That the unfortunate officer was
buried beneath the tree in which he
was hanged had been entirely for
gotten until the finding of the bones
the other day by laborers excavating
on the Ellenville & Kingston railroad
at Hurley. Then the tradition was re
vived by a Kingston antiquarian.
Sleep on tlie Tracks..
One'of the Russian railways has
recently ordered its signalmen not to
sleep on the track. They had been in
ths habit of doing this, it is said, re
lying on being, awakened by the vi
bration caused by the approaching
train but several of them, failing to
awake, were killed by the cars
therefore' the- order. We do things
better in this country. Our railroad
men are seldom worked to such a
pitch of fatigue—and they are by na
ture wide-awake.—'Youth's Compan
ion. •, -7
*83
mottr
..
Takes Two. Moch Tiate. -'m
man who is a success in' his
The
neighborhood, takes so much time in
being accommodating that he isn't a
»uccesn in life.—Atchison Globe.
ii
*t
TH*.
l*rt H»ililil
•a Ottllag to Bo (knit* Papalat
la Some Sootloila.
In building such a structure the
first thing is to build the frame.1 This
is simple, and can be modeled largely
after the general' outline of the shed.
The first things necessary are the run
ners on which the affair is to be built.
Perhaps nothing better than two sev
en-foot planks three inches thick and
six inches wide can be secured. Hewed
sticks from the wood lot can also be.
made to do. The general dimensions
of the building are six feet each way
The lumber used in covering the
framework should be of good quality
and practically clear, or, if knotty, the
knots should be sufficiently firm that
there will be no danger of holes. I
think four-inch pine, matched stuff, is
preferable. If this width is used, 19
12-foot boards will cover the build
ing in good shape without any great
waste. In addition to these, there will
be required ^eight more boards of same
width and length to cover the ends. It
Will be a good idea to face the ends of
the structure just below the root
boards, and also put boards on either
side of gable. If this is done, there will
be required three more boards of the
same length and width as the others,
save that it is preferable if this lum
ber is unmatched stuff.
It does not seem to me advisable to
build.one of these shelters Without giv
ing, it a floor. It is something done,
but because of rooting in the winter
time such arrangements are seldom^
satisfactory. A floor is- the cleanest,,
healthiest, and, generally, most con
venient. It is most apt to mean a warm
liest for the hogs, and, what is more
important, a dry one. In putting in
such a floor I would use nothing save
two-inch planks, probably a foot Wide.
If this size is used, only: three 12-foot
planks will be necessary. I do not.
believe that a floor of inch boards
doubled. wouljJ prove satisfactory in
such a place on account of the iikeli
hood of holding moisture and ultimate
ly decaying.
I SENSIBLE HORSE TALK.
Don't throw time and money aWay
on a lunkhead.
Neighborhoods must pull together
!n these times.
The man who has not an inborn
fondness for horses should raise the
ateer.
Don't raise colts from r" cross
grained, ill-tempered mare. She must
be bright and intelligent, with a fine
bloodlike head.
A western man who makes a spe
cialty of coach horses has handled
over 600 high-class horses since the
beginning of the year.
Buyers know where to go to find
the horses they Want. Any neighbor
hood can bring fhe buyers to their
doors by simply raising the stock.
It costs no more per pound to raise
colt thim a steer, and the colt will
iell for four times as much as the
ateer if the colt is of the right kind
The business of buying and match
ing carriage horses and fitting them
for the wholesale market la a new
and important branch of the horae
business.
A .half -dozen farmers in a communi
ty who appreciate a-good horse and
know how to raise a colt could, by
patronizinz or purchasing a high-class
aire, bring the buyers in and make a
nice profit.
A hired .znafc Who persists in swear
ing at or speaking to the teams in a
loud, harsh maimer ahobld not be
tolerated. All farm animals should
be treated with kindness. It never
pays to have timid) nervous animals.
—4Tarm Journal. Tt X--,'
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aMrfear
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Therefs a tendnefi^th many 'farm
era to turn from the old-fashioaed
hoghouse to the -sxnaU shelters large
enough to hold, possibly a half-dozenr
medium-sized pigs, saya a" Mishifat(
farmer in Breeders' Gazette.
farmers who jttill cling to.tlie large
hoghouse are wiing smali'sliCltera in
addition to the other 'Where hogs «re
turned off into a field, and in some
cases in small yards the large houaa
might be used. The small house has
the advantage of being more
easily
handled, and involves less attention to
keep, in order.
v'
MOVABLE HOG SHELTER.
at the base, five feet six to the gable,
with a' six-foot slant length to the roof.
The frame for the ends will follow the
general outline of the roof edge. The
A-shaped ends are connected with ga
ble piece and two crosspieces some
where between gable and where bases
are nailed to the runners. The run
ners are connected by three crosspiecea
two feet apart, to which the floor is
to be attached. For. the general frame
work seven 12-foot two by fours
are all that is necessary. Twelve feet
is the best length, from the fact that
all are cut six feet long, thus avoidinjg
all waste.
•. IM }J
ants
:horsbs nm mitriKic.
WoU aw
n»r JTaoA Wqifffct as
aeeeBStk .o# mst^ wnt" jleialt
p*w ywr OeitMri
aWL..
Farm horses need wefglifc 'WtWfBt
weight they are not draft animals^i
but better auited for driving, jpur
ioses. 3y1 weight is metint enough
pounds of avoirdupois to dt^Wi the a
heavy loads of .grain, etc., on the, lum,
and to pull without unndue fatigue
plowa and harrowa and other iihple-1
ments utilized in farming according
to modern methods.
We aie .told- by the advoeates .»fr
small draft horses that 'thejr are
quicker than the larger animals and
Will do more work in a day. "It may
he «eaid that under cert^n epnditions
light draft horses have the advantage
of the "giants," but in the main the
very -heavy horses are of greater -mse-.
fulness.
A draft horse weighing 1,800 pounds
.and having good bone and conStitn-',':.
tlon will acquit himself creditably un
der nearly all conditions If properly
trained and handled. But a big horse
that is tricky and mean is worse than
a small horse having the same unde
sirable traits. jfr,'
The farmer wants a team upon
which he may safely, depend when
hauling grain, coal or wood or when
plowing stiff aoil or harrowing mel
low loam. It is claimed that heavy
horses "have too much to carry," and
therefore cannot endure aa much ex
ercise as smaller horses. Is is not
fact, that these larger animal:* hare
stronger legs and better muscular de
velopment than the small horses?
Certainly. Then why should they not
be able to get along just as well?
We believe if we were going into the
business we should buy mares. The
horse-breeding business promises to
be even more profitable than it now
is, and if the farmer will buy two or
more good mares and breed them to
draft stallions of established merit he
not only can do his farm work with
them, but raise colts that will more
than pay for the mares each year. It
will pay to get first-class mares—pay
good prices for them.
The number of horses to be kept on
the farm will depend upon the kind
of farming done and the size of the
farm. These things also will largely
determine the kind of horses—•
whether all draft or a few drafts and
a Carriage
team.—National
HANDY SCALDING DEVICE.
With Its Assistance One Man Can
Handle tke Heaviest Bos With
ont Tronble.
With this device one man can handle
the heaviest hog with ease. I have
scalded 40 hogs with it, and know
what I am saying. Place the hog on
the rack (Fig. 1), then close it, then pro
ceed as shown in Fig 2. Lift the hog
over the trough by taking hold of the'
long lever. Lower it into the trough,
so that the rack springs clear of the.
bottom of the trough, then take hold
of the cross lever and work it up and
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Rural.
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IMPROVED SCALDING DEVICE.
down, throwing the carcass from on«
side to the other, back and forth, until
perfectly scalded. Keeptrying the hair,
so as to know when the proper scald
ing point is reached. Then swing out
on the cleaning rack and take another*^", 'M
hog. The figures explain themselves,' Vf
says the Ohio Farmer.
Points on Horse Feedtnr.
Writing in Drovers' Journal, C. P..
Reynolds says: The horse's stomach'
is built for more highly concentrated'
feed than the ox. He cannot take the
same kind simply because he has not ''t
the capacity to digest it in suffldent
?,,Jll
quantities to supply his system with
the needed nourishment. The result
is when too much hay is fed the horsed
becomes badly pot-bellied and is un-'^^ ,i
able to secure the required nourish-5'^^
ment to work at the best advantage.
A working horse should have plenty of
grain, which furnishes his nourish
ment in the moat highly concentrated 'JJZ'
form that is practicable to feed. It re
quires also a certain amount of hay
but the hay is, not to supply it with thei
main portion of its nourishment. The
most experienced teamsters are rely-u"
ing on grain for the main portion of is
the feed, not only because experience
has demonstrated that it is the most'
eoonomical, but that itis also be»t for. -'V
the horse.
Lmatpr Jaw Deereaslnat
A representative of the Farinera*
rr -5
•J,
1
Beview was recently talking with a
business man who Is brought into
close relations with cattle raisers and
Who has abundant opportunity for ob
serving the frequency or infrequency
of cases of lumpy jaw. He expressed
the opinion that ^the, disease is Vn
prevalent than in former years and
that it seems to have been decreasing
or the last five years. The gentleman,"
in question says that there is less'thaa'2^
usual this year at least in the states^
most affected by drought. This condi
tion of the weather he thinks favor
able to a decrease
of the
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