Ablrd has little—only IL feather
‘ Pinched. it may be from a. tender breast,
Onlya thread to bind together
The delicate fabric of his nest:
Yet he sings: “The wild free air is mine.
The dews of earth. the clouds of heaven! ‘
He sits and swings wi h the swinging vine,
' And all he looks on to him is given.
A child has llttle—only a blossom
, Caught at random from fields of bloom.
Only the love in a tender bosom.
Free.from the shadovvs of care and gloom;
Yet he laughs all day figom the deeps of
' lightness,
And feels his joy in the joy of heaven,
He loses himself in 5. world of brightness, ‘
And all he asks for to him' is given.
A man has little—only a. longing
Higher than labors of sword or pen.
Only a vision whose lights are thronging
Over the tumult of toil and men;
Yet wealth is his from the wealth of being,
His are the glories of earth and heaven,
He feels a beauty too deep for seeing,
And all he dreams of to him is given,
MISS CROSBY.
For the twentieth time in as many
minutes Miss Crosby’s eyes wandered
from the open book on her knee to that
portion of the outer world visible
_ through the car window. It was a
cheerless, sunless day in October—just
such a day as sets the practical person
tr/pthinking seriously of heavier flan-
. reels and the price of coal.
Miss Crosby shrank closer into her
seal skin jacket and signed resignedly.
If one must travel one must expect to
meet with more or less discomforts.
Yet she had hoped that the sun would
shine upon this her first day in her
own country after an absence of four
years. How unfortunate that Uncle
John had fallen a victim to his old
enemy, the gout, at the very last mo-
ment, and so been unable to meet her
at the steamer! '
“Rainbow!" shouted the brakeman,
voc‘iferously.
Miss Crosby was conscious of a lan-
guid thrill of interest. What freak of
fate had encumbered this obscure lit-
rtle collection of a dozen or so frame
buildings with a name so conspicuous
by its oddity?
She was on the side opposite from
the station, and the only object worth
considering within her range of vision
was a tiny white church with green
blinds. ,
Miss Crosby smiled, and a reflective
expression crossed her fair, cold face.
It was a face which many admired
and a few called beautiful.
. As she sat there with one daintily-
gloved hand supporting her head her
sight went far beyond this, and she be-
held a-gain, with the bitter vividness of
yesterday, a drawing-room in a fash-
ionable Boston square before whose
richly-tiled fireplace a man and 3. WO-
Wan were standing.
The man’s face was pale, and his
hand trembled as he held it out to the
woman. .
"Gertrude,” he said, “I do not blame
you for not wanting to go to that lit-
tle Western town to a life of which you
have not the faintest conception. I do
not blame you; but as for me—I have
chosen to do the Lord’s ivork feeling
sure that he will give me strength suf-
ficient for all my needs." ’
He paused, waiting for her to speak,
but her heart was hardened against
him. She could think of nothing save
the splendid career he was renouncing
because of some mistaken notion about
going forth and preaching the Gospel.
She gave her hand, but she did not
speak, even when his lips touched her
fingers, and his voice murmured brok-
enly, “Farewell.”
A few weeks later the Etruria num—
bered Gertrude Crosby among her pas-
sengers.
That was four years ago, and much
may happen in four years. She won-
dered vaguely what had become of
him. He must be changed, certainly—
she was changed, all but her heart.
The train had been in motion several
minutes before she realized that the lit-
tle church lay far in the distance, and
.that a new series of brown hillsides
and meadows were whirling past her
eyes. Moreover, there had evidently
“been a new arrival in the car, for the
low, monotonous, complaining wailing
of a baby forced itself upon her atten-
tion. ‘Miss Crosby was not over fond
of children. and they in turn didn’t
“take” madly to her. She regarded
them rather as an unavoidable evil.
She forgot that a child is the most sen-
sitive of beings. and that she herself
Was once a child.
This baby annoyed her exceedingly.
She turned deliberately and glanced
behind her. . Some two or three seats
further on a man was sitting with his
"Vick toward her. There was a band
crape abouthis hat; he was hold-
i». g against hisshoulder a tiny, white-
1 .ced baby—holding it awkwardly, as
men do. He was alone.
Something—an indefinable look—
about him sent the blood faintly to
MissCrosby’s cheek. She compressed
her lips and stared blankly out of the
window. But that pitiful wailing still
sounded ' in her ears, drowning the
rumble of 'the wheels,» her own heart‘s
quickened beating,_even the voice of
the man as he tried in a half-hearted
way to soothe the child.
Presently she looked back again. He
1had changed his position somewhat, so
that a portion of his face was visible.
Ah, there. could be no mistake! It was
he. Edgar Moulton. Did not something
tell her so from the first? But he was
changed. He looked older, graver—noi
the more gravity which he had donned
with his ecclesiastical orders. There
Were lines about his month which the
hurry 2r,1::-:tache couldn’t wholly con-
cml. ills face was thin, too, and his
cost was positively shabby.
Niss‘ Crosby passed her hand
tixm;;.-;litfully along her rich fur sleeve
and a sudden mist softened her eyes.
Poor? Of course he was! Didn’t his
'-di'c.:ss betray his poverty? Married.
tom—she hesitated and her face grew
eta-an, Thor. a morewomanly feeling
\‘K
possessed her. and she sat motionless
for some time thinking --always with
that. soft wailing keeping up a sort of
acc011ipanii.-:ent to her thoughts.
Did he know how near she was to
him? What would he say were she to
go to him—speak to him? Would he be
glad? Something told her he would
not be sorry. But could she, Gertrude
Crosby, do such a thing after he had
of his own free will broken their en-
gagement, thus revealing the fact that
something else had taken first place in
his heart? But had it been of his own
free will? ,
“Gertrude, if you will go with me
and share my lot, then I shall count
myself the most blessed of men. But if
not. I must go alone, for the Lord has
called me.”
He had gone alone, because she
could not give up her friends, her so-
cial position, her luxuries, to live with
him a new and different life in that lit-
tle Western town. Was she selfish?
Well, there are many like her.
At this point in her reasoning a harsh
voice muttered something about
“folks having no business to bring
their young ones into such a place un-
less they could keep ’em still.”
Miss Crosby’s face flushed scarlet.
She laid her. book on the seat beside
her and rose deliberately. She was
conscious that she was trembling from
head to foot, and that a great many
eyes were fixed curiously upon her.
She had but a faintly defined purpose
in her mind as she made her way
down the aisle, and, pausing at the
man’s side, held out her hands for the
baby.
“Let me take it, Ned,” she said in a
wonderfully clear and sweet tone.
“Poor little thing!”
He looked up at her bewildered, with
a face grown suddenly white. He said
no word, but he laid the baby in her
arms and made room for her beside
him. He watched her as she held it,
cuddling it. close to her neck and laying
her warm cheek against its face while
she crooned to it softly. Gradually
the wailing subsided, until, ceasing en-
tirely, the baby slept.
Miss Crosby looked into the face of
the man beside her. There was a new
directness in her eyes, a new strength
in her face.
“You see?” she said, smiling and in-
dicating the sleeping child with a little
triumphant motion of her head.
“Gertrude,” he faltered, “a benefi-
cent Providence sent you to me this
day of all days.”
Miss Crosby looked down at the
baby and lightly touched its check
with her fingers.
“Tell me about yourself,” she said in
a low voice. ,
“It’s only a sad, simple story,” he re-
plied. “You will not be any the hap-
pier for knowing it.”
Nevertheless he told her it—how he
had gone to that little \Vestern town
and taken up his work there. How,
after two years, he had married a
sweet young lady of his parish, and
how she had died of the fever, leav-
ing him this baby. He, too, had the
fever, which had left him utterly unfit
for work of such a trying nature as
was his. He was going home. “work—
ing his passage" by preaching here
and there along the route. He had
preached the evening previous at Rain-
bow, in a little white church with
green blinds. People had been very
kind to him during the journey, and he
was deeply grateful. He thought af-
ter a year a home he would be able
to go back to his people. ' .
He paused and looked wistfully at
his companion’s downcast face.
“And you ?” he questioned.
“Oh, I have very little to tell,” she
said tremulously, in spite of her smile.
“I have been abroad. I am on my way
home. Uncle John was unable to
meet me at New York, so I had to
make the journey alone. It has been
fearfully tedious, and I am very glad
I shall have company the rest of the
Wily."
She glanced thoughtfully at he
watch. *
“We are barely two hours out of
Boston.” she said. “Of course you
must come to see us tomorrow, and
bring the baby. I forgot to ask its
name.”
“I call her Gertrude.”
The Squall Had Already Arrived.
An experienced telegraph operator
can,_ from merely listening to the
sounds. understand a message on one
kind of telegraph-instrument without
seeing it at all. one day an inspector
walked into a telegraph-office and be-
gan to question the clerk in charge.
Suddenly a message began to arrive,
and the clerk sat down to write it. The
message was as follows——“Look out for
squalls. The inspector is somewhere
on the line, and will be. poking his
nose in everywhere.” The inspector
smiled‘ as he listened to the message.
while the poor clerk looked quite help-
less. His superior. however. went to
the instrument and sent back the an-
swer—“'l‘oo late. He has already
poked his nose in here.”
i
Etta.“ Forty Yea"s ()lil.
Dr. C. D. McCoy is exhibiting an egg
which he says is forty years of age.
It weighs 281 grains. while a sound
one weighs 1,100 grains.
brought to his office by. Mrs. Norman
Wall of Silvercreek, who tells the fol-
lowing story: I’orty years ago her hus-
band built his house. He began it in
the fall and finished it in the spring.
Last week a large piece of plastering
fell from the wall, and Mr. Norman,
upon going to repair the damage, dis-
covered a nest full of eggs, which had
lain securely hidden and protected for
the last fort},r years—Cincinnati Trib-
one.
Contentment is a good thing until it
reaches the point where it sits in the
shade and lets the weeds grow.
_- .. 4N§~ a. ’
"v". ...
i
.’o—-
It was -
SHE RUNS THE RANCH.
A California Woman Who Raises Walnut '
and Fine Pampas Grass.
'Mrs. “Harriet \V. R. Strong is a rancl
woman of California, where the specie:
flourishes. She is not, however, 2
horny-handed daughter of toil. She i:
described as dainty, fragile, shrewd
daring, cordial, gentle-faced. Her stel
is quick; her voice low and musical
She is an accomplished linguist, a mu
sician, a painter, the President of 2
fashionable club, and her pampa:
plumes are the finest in the country.
Nobody would think of calling Mrs
Strong a narrow or one-sided person
Versatility and walnuts are he}
strongest points. The former has ex
panded without hindrance. The wal
nuts haven’t done quite so well as the:
might if Mrs. Strong hadn’t set out
the pampas grass among the trees, but
she means to make that all right very
soon. The,pampas plants will haw
to move, but they will be merely trans
planted. It is a fact, without any low
attempt at punning, that Mrs. Strong
plumes herself on her success in this
branch of her ranching.
Mrs. Strong’s husband died in 1888
and his widow very quickly found thai'
oer agents were improving their ex
zeptional opportunities for running the
business into the ground. This is 2
very easy thing to do with a ranch
She decided, therefore, to 'run it her
self, and, as is generally the.case whet
l woman takes hold of a business, she
got herself well laughed at for her no
:ions. When she spent $700 on pain.
pas plants the men of the neighbor-
aood were so amusedthat they sat in
the sun for hours together and had a
oeautiful time telling each other whai
I. fool a woman was when it came to
insiness. '
They don't do that now. Mrs. Strong
harvests 300,000 plumes from he:
iwenty-eight acres and sells them for
from $15 to $20 a thousand, This is
n addition to the walnuts, which are
n the same land. but have been some-
what stunted by the pampas. The
Homes are gathered in September, and
:he work has to be done promptly.
Sixty-five laborers harvest the twenty-
:ight acres. The plume grows up in a
bug sheath, as an ear of corn does,
llld it must be cut before this sheath
pens, lest the sun spoil the fronds.
[‘he plumes are first stripped and tea
ten to the drying place. If they are
mt out in the evening they are white
llld ready to be taken up by morning.
l‘hen they go to the curing house,
where they are kept six weeks.
In addition to the pampas grass,
which is an excellent food for cattle,
lIrs. Strong raises walnuts, oranges,
dives, and figs. She is President of.
be American Walnut GrOwers’ Asso-
riation. She is interested in irrigation
llld mining schemes, and has recently
)atented a reservoir system for im-
>ounding the debris of hydraulic min-
ng. She thinks it will settle matters.
She has patented a process for dam-
ning up andstoring water for irriga-
tion, by using the reversed arch.
Furthermore, she has a hobby. She
lreams of founding an institution
where women may learn the principles-
)f the science of business. She is
10W the President of a business league,
which she hopes to see grow until it
iulfils her hopes. Altogether, Mrs.
Strong appears to be as marvelous a.
product of the Pacific slope as it has
nrned out for a long time—New York
Sun. ______________
Where the Nuts Come From.
“Nuts is nuts” at Halloween'in Scot-
land. We eat most of the dainties
aere at Christmas time. \Vhence do
;hey come?
Take the French walnuts, consid-
ared by many the sweetest nut that
grows. New York imports 8,000 or
[0,000 bags of them every year, but
lot from France. Most of them come
from Naples. A superior article which
is fast replacing the foreign article is
Drought from California~ It is grown
in the Los Nietos district and shipped
eastward by the carload.
California grows no end of almonds
also, but Spain is still a powerful sec-
)nd to the Golden State. These nuts
some to New York in their shells, but
most of HT!“‘1 are “husked” before he-
:11;;-I"r- -n' sale, for the confec-
tion ‘ ' .3 ..i bakers prefer to buy them
so. Btu shelled almonds are imported
in large quantities via. London from
the Valley of the Jordan.
Hazel nuts, you would think, are
common enough in this country. but it
s a fact that New York imports
[50.000 bushels from Spain and Eng-
land—more than half of what we eat.
The filbert is a variety of hazel nut.
[t is grown almost exclusively on the
Amoor river, in Asia. ' ‘
Nearly all the dried figs imported to
this country come from’Tu'l‘key and
Samaria. Very few New Yorkers
ever tasted a fresh fig, but those who
nave declare it infinitely superior to
the dried fig—New York Herald.
CONUNDRUMS.
“’hr‘u are debts like coffee?—When
hey settle themselves by standing.
\Vhen is a piece of wood like a mon-
chh?—~When it is made into a ruler. ‘
When does a defeated ship give her
fast blow?——thn she strikes her flag
Why is the Bank of England like a
:lirush?—Because it often changes its
, notes.
\Vhy should many hand-organ tunes.
Je considered classical?—Because they
ire the productions of Handel.
“hat is that which no one wishes tc
have, yet, when he has it, he would
as very sorry to lose?—A bald head.
, What, is the difference between a
French pastrycook and a bill—‘stickeri
—One pufis up paste, the other pastes
1p puffs. ' "
- What is the difference' between a
musbandman and a. seamstress?-—The
)ne gathers what he sows,,thc other
sews what she gathers.
or nanny 4 sonw Ann} GAZE’Tg a
One detail of Queen Amelia’s life is
not a little droll. She has” set up a
workroom in one part of the palace,
where a Parisian milliner is constantly
employed, making hats and bonnets
for her Majesty. Good models are pro-
cured from the Seine and then copied
in difierent colors and materials to
'suit the toilettes worn. But Queen
Amelia does not merely come in to try
on and to watch the progress of the
work. She will, every now a‘nd then,
spend a whole morning in the room
fixing the feathers, manipulating the
ribbons, shaping and curving brim and
crown, planting in the aigrettes, and
building up a beautiful whole, which
one need. not be a mere courtier to
greet with wonder and admiration.
The Crown Prince and his brother, the
Duke of Beja, are now getting past
the “Lord Fauntleroy” age, but when
they wore fancy “millinery,” the
consideration in devising picturesque
hats for them as for her own self; and
to have their children’s head-gear de«
scribed as being as pretty as that of
the little Princes was the aim of all
mothers in Lisbon who gave attention
to that branch of life in the nursery.
mits, but encourages, the modistes of
Lisbon to look in on stated occasions
and take hints from what is going on
in the Royal millinery establishment,
and will procure bonnets specially
from the Seine so that they may gain
ideas to carry out for their own cus«
tomers. An excellent result of this is
that very large sums which used to go
each year to Paris are now kept in the
Portuguese capital, as the ladies of the
court and others are only too glad to
be able to choose at home instead of
ordering things do dernier chic, which
may not suit their own style of beauty.
Another point is that the duty at the-
custom house. which is terribly heavy
in all parts of the Iberian Peninsula,
can in this way be avoided. The mam
tilla, of course, is still the favorite-
wear—long may it remain sol—but each:
year the Parisian bonnet finds new ad-
vocates, and as time passes it must in-
evitably thrust its graceful rival to
the rear.
A Woman ‘Vlio Dies Often.
Miss Viola Allen has probably died
as many times as any other woman on
the stage—that is to say, of course, a
dramatic death.
“There is something fascinating-to
me,” she said, “in a death scene. If
the actress has to fall to the ground in
a death agony she must be careful that
she does not perform the feat as
though she were a clasp-knife folding
up. Then, again, she must cultivate
breathing, so that she may seem not
to be breathing at all. Nothing is
more ridiculous than the spectacle pre-
sented by a supposed corpse whose
chest is heaving violently, in conse-
quence of the emotion attendant upon
falling.
“I remember in ‘Virginius’ I was
stabbed and fell backward to the
ground“ The blow made me gasp-—
gradually my limbs became rigid, and
I fell at the moment the spark of life
was supposed to have left my body. I
used to remain motionless with my
mouth and eyes open. My authority
for such action and subsequent pose is
the strongest. I was the witness of
just such a tragedy in real life. The
only pain I experienced in that scene
was the enforced holding of my breath.
The length of the actual death scene
is about five minutes.
“When I played in ‘Othello’ with To‘
maso Salvini I was always very nerv—
ous during the smothering scene, be-
cause the Italian tragedian used to get
extremely‘excited. I would turn my
face sideways and hold a small space
open under the further side of the pil-
low, so that I could breathe. but even
that breathing hole would frequently
get closed under Salvini's forceful
energy. Then when he had found that
he had killed Desdemona without
cause, in his remorse he would throw
himself heavily upon the body. I used
to wait for this piece of business as
one would wait for a locomotive "about
to project itself upon the waistband.
The Newest in Rings.
The newest rings are of ~ carved
gems, the carving covering at least
half the hoop. Then the delightful old-
rings of small diamonds all the way
round the circle are again finding fa-
vor. Another setting is an old fashion.
revived. Rose diamonds stud the ring.
so that from the outside of the hand
no gold eirclet is visible. Opals and
rubies, too, are used in this way.
AprOpos of Opals—both polished and in
the matrix—they are becoming daily
more popular, as such ivvautiful stones
deserve to do. The superstition that
the evil eye lurks in their fiery depths
is fast dying out. For engagement
rings no gem just now is so much in
demand as the ruby, lint the big siir
aflianced damsel.
A Good Imitation.
In many rooms, perhaps most-often
in apartments in which windows or
doors of plain glass are found where
thereshould have been ground glass.
and where a curtain is not dosh-rd. a
good imitation of ground glass muy’bc
made. Take a piece of very soft putty
and tie it closely in a piece of cheese
310th. ,Pat the plain glass over with
the cloth until every part is cover-«v1
twith a thin, white coating. ‘C-fhcn Lin:
covering has dried so that it will not
rub ofi, brush the putty over with om
mat of white varnish.
buckles and ornaments of
Queen would spend as much time and ~
Furthermore, the Queen not only per- .
gle diamond is still cherished by the
r
\ -
COLD WEATHER FASHIONS.
Hints fol Utilizing Old Dfafrrials by “Juk-
ing Over With New Trinuninvs.
(By Special Arrangement with the. N. Y. Suzi.)
For the women who need not count
the cost of their wardrobe there are
perfect rainbows. in fancy jewelled
various
kinds to set off the glossy velveis and
shining satins, and besides these there ,
is an array of galons and embroideries
in gold, silver, and steel, a variety in
laces, and a display of loVely colors
that can make every daughter of Eye
forget all the lessons in economy in
one minute. But the woman with a
Quick eye for her "chances can see no
end of opportunities in this diversity
of elegance for remodelling her gowns.
It is the artistic accessories of dress
which was such a telling point in fash-
ion this season, and a bit of trimming
and a touch of color in the right place
will often change the whole style of a
gown. Women are much more inclined
to discriminate between the good and
bad in fashion than they were a few
years ago, and blind servitude to all
the fancies fashion sets forth is the
rare exception. One model suggests
points in another, and the most Suc-
cessful dressmaker is the one who can
make the gown suit the woman, using
the models only as a guide.
The jaunty little bolero, so much
worn, assists wonderfully in the reno--
vating process, as it is made of every
material, from cloth to the finest lace,
and requires a little of anything to
make it eflective. It may be of cloth,
like the skirt, prettily braided, and
worn over a waist and sleeves of silk
or of embroidered and plain velvet,
’{fi’ .
4'4") 7 1
\fi‘ ._.:'I.>’/'
£6. "1.
We’
lace, or chiffon, according to the need,
and cut straight to hang from the
shoulders or fitted in to the figure; but
it is sure to be a pretty addition to al-
most every gown. The same effect is
often brought about by. sewing tiny
frills of black or white lace, one above
the other an inch apart, on the bodice
in the form of a jacket, and rows of
narrow black velvet ribbon or chiffon
plaitings are used in the same way.
The front of the waist should be full .
for this sort of decoration. Odds and
ends of Oriental embroidery lace and
velvets will make pretty figaros, and
very small pieces can be utilized by
making the jacket of folds, one lap-
ping over the other, and edging them
with‘narrow lace of a tiny band. of
beaded trimmin". Chiffon waists
which have been worn all summer can
be made warm and dressy by a black
velvet figaro with draped revers and
sleeves all lined with white satin. A
petunia velvet jacket ~over a white
I
satin waist covered with cream lace'
is also very pretty with a black satin
skirt or one of cloth to match "the vel-
vet, and a dainty finish is a two-inch
belt of white velvet with a gold buckle
and a cream lace and satin collar band.
Sash ribbons of various widths can be
utilized in the bolero” department of
fashion very prettily. ‘
Mrs. Youngwife—“Did you ever try
any of my biscuits, judge?”
; J ud‘ge———“No, I never did; but I dare
say they deserve it.”-—I§x. ~ '
. /
Five dollars a ton is paid for sugar
beets at Nebraska factories against $4
in Utah and' California. The increase
is due to the state bounty of 58¢ per
lb on sugar refined from beets grown
within the state for which the farmer
is paid at least $5 a ton. This amounts _
to just about $1 per ton on the beets,
so that farmers get all the bounty.
which was the intent of the law. “’0
believe our great agricultural states
can make no better investment than
to offer a bounty to further encourage
the" beet sugar industry...
The American agriculturist is prepar-
ing a list of all towns or communities
that desire a bcet sugar factory lo-
cated within their limits. It says in
relation to the scheme:
This list will be consulted by capital- ‘
ists, manufacturers of beet sugar ma-
chinery, factory outfitters, etc. ‘v'c
therefore wish every locality that de‘
sires to obtain a beet sugar factory
would write usat once to that effect.
It is important to know what area of
land would be available for sugar
beets within a reasonable distance of
the proposed factory. say 25 miles, and
to what extent beets have been grown
in, that section in an experimental
way. An abundance of pure water is
essential, while good and cheap lime
and fuel, together with railroad and
traffic conveniences, are also import-
ant.
We suggest that the farmers» and
business men in each town and coun-
ty interested in securing a beet sugar
factory at once come together and or-
ganize a sort of preliminary board of
trade to take charge of the matter.
The sooner this is done, the better. The
committee should choose a chairman
and secretary, to whom communica-
tions could be addressed and from
whom further particulars could be ob—
tained. Such organizations and their
officers, together with particulars on
the points above requested, should be
promptly reported to the New York
headquarters of American Agricultur-
ist, 552 Lafayette place, New York city.
The more speedily action is taken, the
better chance your community will
have to secure a factory, other things
being equal. This matter should there-
fore be called to the immediate at-
tention of farmers, business men.
newspapers, etc., in your section, and
a meeting called to act upon it with-
out delay.
W'e cannot guarantee the establisli-
ment of a sugar factory in any special
locality. ,We have no direct interest
in any factory enterprise. or in any
colony scheme or locality,but American
Agriculturist is ready to do what it
can to promote this industry by bring-
ing together (so far as lies in our
power) the parties interested—that is
to say, the farmers, land owners and
local business men of communities that
want a sugar factory, on the one hand,
and on the other, the capitalists, su-
.gar factory outfitters and others whose
co-operation is essential to the success-
ful establishment of the industry at
any point.
Best Cows for Farmers.
The best cow for the individual far-
mer willdepend upon the use to which
she is put. The Jersey is best for but-
ter, but the Durham leads for beef.
The cow for market, must be large,
handsome and have a capacious ud-
der. The cow which gives the most
milk is the most profitable where the
milk is carried, to a creamery. I have.
tried Jerseys, Durliams and I'Iolsteins,
and now have the Ayrshire. I have
about decided that the last is the best
creamery cow, as she is a large milker,
easy to keepfhardy, of fair size, smooth
and handsome, making a good market
as well as a dairy cow. The Babcock
test“is very good for your own cows,
but for the creamer-y it is not fair.
The quantity of butter can be deter-
mined, but not the quality.
The Farmers’ Demand. 2
To State Legislatures: Reduce ex-
penses—this is our [first demand and
we make it emphatic. Readjust ine-
qualities of taxation and assessment
so that the farmer shall bear only his
far share of the public burden. Kill
all unnecessary bills, giving us fewer
laws and only such as really benefit
the general public and that can be en-
forced. Shut down on special laws for
the few, and protect the people from
injustice on the part of individuals
and corporations so. far as legislation
can do it. Help the cause of good
roads and other real reforms, includ-
ing initiative and referendum. Pursue
a more liberal policy toward agricul-
ture and do what you can to aid in
making farm life more attractive. /.
Sunflower Seed for Market.
About the only use that the seeds of
sunflowers have been devoted to in
this country, is for feeding chickens.
The seeds contain considerable oil
which is valuable for lubricating fine
machinery and for use in the fine arts.
The demand for the oil is rapidly in-
creasing. and the fact that nearly all
that is used in America is imported
from Europe, shows that a profitable
industry has been neglected here. W,
W. Edgarton of Madison 00., N. Y.,
will plant 7 acres to sunflowers next
spring. The plant is very easily grown
and the work of extracting the oil is
neither difficult not expensiye. '
Grade Your Produce.
He who carefully assorts and grades
his produce, especially that of a per-
ishable-miture, and puts it .up in neat
attractive packages will stimulate con-
sumption and find his market contin
ually expanding. 'r
Norwalk Chronicler