. HER THEORY. ' The house party at Westwood were dawdilng over their corree on the moonlit piazza. It was a merry crowd everybody knew everybody else, am: there was much laughter and "talk, he suddenly a silence fell. Then it be came patent to all that the couph seated on the steps leading to the lawn were engaged in a quiet but bit ter altercation. The girl’s listless air was in striking contrast to the man’s eagerness. “Your idea is an absurd one," he ex- claimed. "O‘h, fie!” she said, “to speak sc rudely to a woman.” “It is not rudenes but truth. “Then they are apparently synony mous.” “I can’t help it; it exasperates me t5 hear an intelligent girl like you—” “Now, where,” she broke in, "did you pick that up? I am not the least bit intelligent! If I were, I would know better than to argue with you; it is so perfectly hopeless—sighing—and you do get so excited.” “And ‘who wouldn’t—listening such impossible theories!” “What is your theory, Kate?” called out her cousin. “One you have heard me express thousands of times before.” “Shall I tell him, Miss Doane?” “(,Yertainly.” "She says that a man doesn’t like to feel too confident of a woman's affec- tion; that it is the element of uncer- tainty in love affairs that makes them interesting; that he enjoys being puz- zled and played with, and that a clever woman has only to appear indifferent to first pique and then attract him.” “Heresy!” exclaimed a chorus of manly voices. . “Mr. Stewart has omitted a very im- portant clause,” said Miss Doane. “I added that to do this the woman must necessarily be good to look at and not lacking in this world’s goods.” “Oh, Kate, Kate!” sighed her cous- in, “would you insinuate that the mas- culine fancy is influenced by worldly advantages?” Slhe shrugged her shoulders. "I have stated my case; you can make it 'what you choose.” The hostess. who had been listening idly, now put in a word.— "T'he trouble wizh you all is that you analyze too much,” she said. “Why not take things as they come, without worrying over their possible causes? it is so much simpler and l; zalthier. ’ ’ Miss Doane turned around. “Isn’t Madge charming?” she said, amiably. “To hear her you would sup- pose that she had never seen the in- side of a drawing-room. She always gets like that when she comes to the country; something in the air, prob- ably.” “And you,” said Stewart, when the laughter following her speech had died away; “has it no effect on you ?” “The country? Oh, yes, it makes me— if that is possible—more indolent than usual,” and she leaned her head against the pillar and looked, not at him, but past him to the stretch of rosy sky. “What an actress" you are!” he said. “You are not the least bit . indifferent, really, but it has amused you to pose as such so long now it has almost be- come second nature." “Still wrangling?” asked Carl Ains- lie, lounging down the steps. “My dear young friends, it grieves me to the heart to see such a display of unchris- tian feelings. ‘Let dogs delight to bark and bite.’ " "Blame Mr. Stewart and not me,” said the girl. “You know, Carl, that I haven’t the energy to quarrel with any one. especially in this weather.” “Oh, of course not. Miss Doane on- ly says the things that make other people want to row.” “A 'charming character you have .given me! After that I think ‘I will abandon the field to you. Come, Carl,” with a quick change of manner, "Let’s go down to the lake for a row.”- Stewart watched them with wrath in his heart—the girl was talking gay— ly. her soft laugh floating back to him. "Kate,” said young Ainslie, resting on his oars, “I’m your cousin and have a right to tell you when I think you are doing wrong, so I say—do leave old Stewart alone.” “Of course, now, you know very well what I mean. It’s all right for you to trample upon Herbert, Reade, and my- self; we're used to it—been broken in too long to protest—but Stewart is an- other sort; he cares awfully about things .” “O‘h, indeed, so he ‘cares awfully,’ and the rest of you are only amusing yourselves, I suppose.” “How you tease a fellow! No—what _I mean is that he. is so terribly “all ‘there.’ that if he lets himself be hard hit it would knock him out completely if you threw him over.” “So team-ibly ‘all there’-—what a graphic expression. Yet undeniably true in this case; but why do you take it for granted that I will throw him over?” ' . Mr. Ainslie's face expressed the ut- most consternation. “Well, really, I don’t know, but I thought, I somehow concluded-” “What?” . I “Why,” a brilliant idea striking him, “that you didn’t care for anybody and wouldn’t until you had. seen more of the world, for you are very young, Kate, in spite of your many experi- cums.” “Carl,” said Miss Doane, solemnly, “the bar had lost a shining mark in- , you,’but I am proud to claim you as a relative.” ' It wasa fortnight later; the house party would'disperse on the morrow. and Miss Doane, to whom Westwood was dear, was taking a farewell stroll )I to p s git—Ear,- down a path, when: catching sight 01 Stewart over the tops of the rose bushes, she ostentatiously' put up he) para‘sol’ and thrned'in the other 'direc tion. ' But he was not to be so easily- thrown off; with -a curl of the 11p (f01 he had recognized the manoeuvre) he hurried to her. “Miss Doane,” he cried, “will yot spare me a few moments ‘3” She turned her head. “I am not in a pleasant frame 01 mind. Uncle forwarded me my dress maker’s bill 'this morning, with cer- tain pungent comments of his own ap- pended, and my best manuscript has just been returned to me as ‘unav-ail- able,’ so the atmosphere is not rosy." “Never mind about that. I will not detain you long,” and he pulled up a bench. “I suppose you know you are very beautiful,” he said. “Doubtless your mirror has told you that already, so I need not worry you with repetitions, but I feel sure that you do not realize how absolutely charming you are.” She looked at him wonderingly; it was a favorite method of hers and usually worked well, but now it failed to produce the effect she intended. “Don’t look like that," he said, “or I shall think you are not sincere, and I don’t want to think that. I want to carry away the kindest thoughts of you.” “You have changed,” she said. “Ten days ago you told Mary Fair I was thoroughly heartless.” “Did I? Well, that only shows I was a fool. I know you better now; and what is more, I understand you.” .A slight pause. “I heard up at the house that you were engaged to your cousin, and while the news could not but hurt me, it was in one sense a relief, for I knew at once why you had avoided and almost ignored me. You wanted to save me pain. Experience has taught me that if a man saw much of you he generally cared for you, and you tried to ward me off. But you cannot keep the moth from the can. dle and I loved you in spite of your coldness. It almost looks as if there was something in your theory, doesn’t it?” . ‘ Miss Doane gathered herself to gethcr. Stewart did not know it, but she was summoning courage to tell him the truth about herself. She loved to be well thought of, and it was a genuine sacrifice to speak, but she could not, in common honesty, allow him to remain under his delusion. “You must not think too well of me,” she began. _ “I could not,” he cried. “One rarely sees so much of youth and beauty and simple goodness united as I find in you.” Simple goodness! The words scorched her. “You are all-wrong!” she cried, with burning cheeks. “I am not the least bit like that. Don’t you see? Can’t you understand? It vexed me to have you laugh at my theory, so I deter- mined to make you an example of its truth. It was from no good motive— not to"wa.rd you off,’ or ‘to save you pain,’ but with the distinct intention of making you care for me, that I pre- tended to be indifferent." Stewart got slowly to his feet. “And so,” he said, “in support of a theory, for the sake of proving your— self in the right, you could play with a man’s heart and make havoc of his life? Fool, fool that I was, not to un- derstand!” and he struck one palm sharply against the other. “Well,” with sarcastic courtesy. “the point is gained, the poor dupe at your feet. I hope you are content?” “Content!” she cried. “I was never so sorry in my life. It seems strange I should care, doesn’t it? As you say, I have gained my point—~and yet—” “Yes,” he said, “and yet?” Instead of replying she turned her head swiftly away, but not before he had seen that her eyes were full of tears. He stood irresolute, overcome by surprise, then he approached her. “Don't cry like that,” he said. “You never meant to hurt me; it was a pret- ty bit of acting to you, and if I was stupid and overdid my part you are not to blame. There, look up! What will your cousin say if he learnsI dis- tressed you ?” “What is it thinks?” Mr. Stewart stared. “Pardon me, but I thought that, be ing engaged to h-im—” “I am not engaged to him. Nothing is further from my intention.” . A‘silence followed. Then Miss Doane rose to depart, but Stewart, whose mind had been adjusting itself to the changed situation, put out a detaining hand. “Kate, if you are not going to marry your cousin, perhaps there might be a chance for some one else.” "Perha ps.”_ He drew nearer. “i know I’m a perfect fool to rush on my fate, but what’s worth having is worth asking for. Kate, will you marry me?" ' _ She smiled, but her eyes were very tender. “I believe you do love me,” she said. “Well, a little.” “And if I marry you I know I shall be happy. You are so strong and true, and have my confidence so utterly, but I have been horrid to you—so rude and disagreeable that I don’t see how you can bear me.” ‘ “Why, you are going back on your theory.” “The girls will certainly laugh, and Carl will never leave me alone about it, but I don’t care,” lifting her face resolutely. “I love you, and there's no use pretending I don’t.” A little while later she looked up. . “I always said I would never care for anybody,” she remarked. “What will this prove?" ' “That you are a woman,” he said. ‘ -, to me what my cousin through the gardens. She was idling x-L- Y , FOR BOYS "AND GIRLS. 4 * How a Boy Secured 3 Position. Jimmie Brown, aged 10, sat busily poring over the advertising sheets of the New York dailies. He was wildly anxious for a good position as other boy. for not only did he sadly need wages, but he had an ambitious little brain in his head, and he wanted. above all things, to master the techni- calities of some good business. h‘i- nail:r his eye lighted upon an adver- tisement that seemed to appeal to him more than any of the others, and he determined to make a desperate effort to secure the position; Only the “Ad. dress lock box 441” was so very, dis- couraging in the beginning, for Jim- mie had already cudgeled his poor lit- tle brain and cramped his stiff little fingers over many an answer to adver- tisements—to say nothing of the pre- cious stamps he had risked—and all to no purpose. No! Plainly in this case, some other method must be thought out. The next morning Mr. Adams, a wealthy contractor, took a. very, very fat mail from lock box 441, most of which, however, he was destined never to read. for close at his heels followed the sturdy little boy, who managed'somehow to slip into the of- fice with him. “Please, sir,” said Jimmie, for it was none other, “will you give me a chance to try to suit you as an office boy?” “Why, how do you know that I want an office boy?" said Mr. Adams. “I read your advertisement in the paper, and ever since I have been watching box 441 to find out who you were and where you did business, so that I might get in my work before you had a chance to read about the other fellows. lVill you give me a try, sir?” “Well,” said Mr. Adams, looking rather amused, “If you are smart enough to. do that, I guess you are about the kind of boy we want. Yes, you may stay and go right to work. First, sort out these letters and dump all the answers to that advertisement into the waste basket.” This all happened many years ago, and today Mr. James Brown is one of the leading partners in that very firm which he first served intelligently and conscientiously as office box. The strangely dressed little tots whose pictures appear above are the children of the Princess Marie, of Ron- mania, and their garb is the nation-a1 or Bayard costume. Prince Caral is 3 years old, and his little sister, Princess Elizabeth Charlotte Josephine Victoria Alexandra, is a year younger. It is hardly necessary to say that they are great-grandchildren of Queen Victoria, and Prince Caral is the heir to the Roumanian crown. Tiger Gratitude. The Pall Mall Gazette recalls a diffi- cult operation which was successfully performed in the Zoological Gardens, Dublin, a. few years ago. One of the finest tigers in the collection was threatened with gangrene in its- paw, the claw having been distorted and grown into the foot. Reverend Sam- uol Houghton, M. D., Senior Fellow of Trinity. College, Dublin, and! a well- known personage in the Irish metrop- olis, undertook to perform the danger- ous experiment of operating on the paw. The mate of the tiger was first se- cured in a side den. A net was thrown or z- ‘ tiger, and he was drawn for- war. .1 me door of the cage. Four stout keepers then held the feet of the stuggling animal, while Professor Houghton cut away the diseased claw. The suffering beast furiously endeav- ored to get at him during the opera- tion, but the rage of the tigress was much more terrible. She roared and flung herself violently again and again against the barriers -'in her mad desire to go to the rescue of her mate. When the tigress was admitted to the cage after the wound of her mate was dressed and the net removed, she turned up the paw and examined it with touching solicitude, and then licked her mate 'as a cat licks its kit- ten to sooth him, purring softly the while. But perhaps the most extraor- dinary part of the affair was the se- quel. A week later ,Professor Hough- ton was again at the Zoo, to see how his patient was going on. When the animal espied him he began to purr like a cat, allowed him to examine the paw, and seemed pleased that he should do so. Indeed, for years after- ward, the tiger and tigress showed themselves most friendly and grateful to Professor Houghton. “I wonder if the little Eskimo boys have any. out-of—door games like ours?" said Polly. '“Oh, I guess so,” replied Jennie. “They "have polo-bears up there, you know.”—Harper’s Round Table, A Definition. Teacher-“James can you tell me what is meant by a. cubic yard ‘2” James—“I don’t know exactly. but I suppose it’s a. yard that the Cuban children play in.”—Boston Traveler. \. New Th'ngs in Silverware. -The bread baskets are oblong in shape, shallow, and have four tiny lit- tle claw feet to rest upon. The sides of the basket are of a. very Open pat- tern, to represent 'wheat ears and grass. Stalks of the same grain form a graceful handle at each end of the dish. Silver jelly tumblers and mar- malade jar-holders are in open work scroll patterns, are fastened firmly to a silver plate, and have a solid cover. The grass or jar is placed inside and the jam spoon rests upon the plate. What is prettier for a. little gift to an invalid than a lemonade spoon? The bowl of the spoon is shell-shaped. A long, round, slim handle starts from under the shell, and is finished at the top with a tiny ball. This handle is hollow and makes a silver. straw through which to draw the lemonade. The newest chocolate spoons have the same rounded bowls as formerly. but have decorated Dresden handles. The white porcelain pieplate can now have a silver frame resting upon four little balls for feet. The plate fits per- fectly in this openwork silver case. A long and slender open-work pie knife comes with the frame—New York Sun. Hymen’s Wedding Torch. The above illustration will make a handsome design for a sofa pillow and can be embroidered to suit the fancy of the worker and gives much scope for an artistic use of colors. A “'onum Inventor. Miss Fanny G—rothjan, of New York. has a. device to detach runaway horse; from a. vehicle. The “detacher” not only separates the horse from the vehicle. but is so constructed that immediately after the horse has been liberated the oper- atin-g rod is transformed into a steer- ing gear. Any one can easily steer the vehicle in any direction desired. In order to go straight ahead all that is necessaryto do is to bear against the side of the rod. The inventor has gained an import- ant point in that with her device one can steer out of danger, which is more, than one can do with a brake. No accident could occur from the “detacher” itself, as it is impossible that one side should become detached sooner than the other.——N-ew York Tri- bu-ne. The Hodel Mother. First, she must have God-given strength of will and infinite patience, unfailing sympathy and ready tact, keen judgment and mental sweetness, physical strength and moral courage, and, most of all, must she have the di- vine attribute of hope. Never for one instant must she despair, never must she be discouraged; hopeful ever, she will not only inspire the children with zeal and courage, but she must make her daily, nay, hourly, life a living ex- ample of the ideal she would have them strive to attain—New York World. To Keep Salt Fine. Whenever table salt becomes caked in its receptacles put into them a pinch of ground arrowroot, and the salt will remain perfectly dry and fine, whatever the temperature may be. Almond Balls. Two cups sugar, three-fourths cup cold water; boil until it hairs. Set away to cool for half an hour, and add a half pound blanched almonds broken in small pieces and a few drops of either vanilla of bitter almonds, ac- cording to taste. Stir with a wooden spoonuntil it creams; place on a mar- ble slab or a large dish and knead a few minutes as you would bread; then mold into balls with your hands. The Care of Stove L (is. When the lid of your range splits do not throw it away, but have it mended. It. will last much longer than a new lid. Bath Bags. A‘ bran bag is one of the most grate- ful of all toilet accessories. It is more cleansing to the skin, and much more refreshing. It is made by filling a mus- lin bag with two quarts of bran, one ounce of orris root, one ounce almond meal and one small cake of castile soap cut in small pieces. Corroburative. Pn"°gfinatlng Peter—Look dere at dat sign! Emigrating Edward—‘Cleauing' and dyeing establishment.’ What about it? ' Peregrinating Peter—Didn’t I tell yer them two allus went tergidder?— Truth. Detending His Monopoly, “Treddie is jealous of his preroga- tives, ain’t: he?” “What makes you say so?" “He got angry the other night and told me not to be a foo .” ' When using dates for an after iii“.- ner sweet, after the pit has b.- m: moved, instead of filling with glib" in}. 'nut- meats, set in a row of pegs-m meats and call them “peas in the. its? t s l ‘ i M) r w .t . k - G .A;.. Z FTT E1 ' THEATRICAL. t;o:;=..~;r:>. JOLLY MAY ”mm” ow: or». so»: YORK’S GREATEST FAV-v :1. 1—33 Interesting Sketch of Ho“ “At Ridge” Came to be Prmluc :l —- Lik- Many Good Things, Was at him. ur- fused. I' luv; May Irwin, the refund humorist knows more of human nature than an; ten playwrights who dish up human foibles appetizingly for us. Miss Irwin in her knoWledge of our ill-naturl gets ahead of us with surprising et‘ feet. Before we have time to laugh 21: her she laughs at herself. Anal that simply rivets our admiration. ‘x'e low- May Irwin. We are grateful to her.‘ We think she is the funniest creature on earth. because, just to'amuse us. she makes a butt of herself. “A cigarette firm wants to use my picture on their cigarettes.” says May Irwin. “They must centemplate cu- larging their packages.” ‘ "Here’s a note from my manager,” she remarks, confidingly. “He wants me to play Rosalind.” \ I." i - .- MAY mth. We lean back and roar. We had been thinking rather sneeringly that Miss Irwin was very fat to dance and sing so skittishly. We had almost de- termined to pass unkind remarks about her as soon as we got home, and roast her generally. And, lo! and be‘ hold! this remarkable women knew us like a book, and got ahead of us. She cast her inferiority in our faces. She said to us, in effect, “You are nice and slim and ’lissome. I am awfully fat. Imagine me playing Rosalind! Ha! Ha! Ha! Think of'my giant propor- tions wedged into a cigarette picture! He! He! He.” I will not hesitate to say that May Irwin’s immense vogue is due entirely to her marvellous under- standing of human nature. She is per- fectly aware of the fact that if she posed as a sylph. and stood in the cen- ter of the stage and warbled, “0h, love! I love you, my love!” in the usual stellar manner, she would awaken nothing but our derision. In “The IVid'ow Jones” May Irwin first won our approval by this remark: “The advantage of having a big mouth is that you can kiss and talk at the same time.” The audience was aghast at her daring; then they warmed into admiration of it. And clever May Irwin’s tactics un- doubtedly are—clever, tinged with a streak of genius. Dickens knew no . more of human nature than does May Irwin. The beautv of it all is that while we think we are laughing at her expense, she is really laughing at ours. The latest story of genius that wouldn’t be crushed comes in connec- tion’ with the play At Piney Ridge, re- cently produced and pronounced a. great success. This play was written by David Higgins, and is a melodrama on somewhat old-fashioned and con- ventional lines. Two yearsago Hig- gins patched up a company and put his own play on in San Francisco. It won favor, and like many a man be- fore him he thought it must have a New Yorkindorsemcnt before it could be a genuine "‘go.” This idea started him 0E across the continent, and in due time he was in New York. He danced attendance on Charles Froh— man at the Empire Theatre, but that magnate of the dramatic muse wouldn’t even see the Western author. Then he tried the other Frohman, but: though Daniel saw him the results were nil. Then A. M. Palmer was tried, and be pompou-sly said it was waste paper. Thus the entire list was run, and Higgins was disgusted and disheartened. His wife, however, held her faith in him and his play. She, somehow or other. met Burr McIntosh, who had been engaged by Miner & Brooks, theatrical contractors, for a starring tour. The contract nominated Mr. McIntosh to secure a play that would suit his abilities and the tastes of the public, and in recompense of his . services in thus finding and perform- ing a good play the party of the first part became bound to pay the party of the second part a salary of $100 a week and 25 per cent of the profits of the said play. McIntosh read At Pi- ney Ridge, saw its merit, and wanted to start out with it. Knowing that the other managers had rejected it. Miner & Brooks wouldn’t have the play, and McIntosh didn't take it on the road. Finally. everything else failing, Mr. Higgins determined to prove his faith by his work. He and his wife and his two brothers, who had places in trav- eling companies, scraped enough money together to put_the play on at the American Theater in New York, and it is one of the successes of the season. Now everybody wants it, and it is going to London. its success cha- grinned all the dramatic dictators, and Burr- McIntosh -is mad clear through. He is now playing a part in the drama. One of the old-time favorites is Sol Smith Russell. who holds a unique place on the American stage, a place, be it said, which one would find well nigh impossible to fill, for his style is ‘and the remedy is to stop feeding ,unv peculiarly his own, and there is a ,quaintnessand dryness about it which defies imitation. Rosa FAI‘IK'i-Ix'irt. |,-'~/.. '5 .' tr ' ‘ r’o 'I‘bll Int/l" ‘ . Feeding for Eggs. Overfeeding produces worse results than not feedihg enough. If fowls do not eat rapidly, or scarcely eatany at all, it is an indication of overfeeding, til the hens get hungry. It‘ is a mis« take to feed hens three times a day-v not only this, but it is a mistake to give them all the breakfast they vill eat. From one-half to two-thirds of a meal in the morning) and a full meal at night, gives me the best results in eggs. This equally applies to fowls confined in breeding pens and fowls running at large. \Vhen fowls are confined, they must be furnished with grit, green food, lime and a dust bath, and many things may be added. Old plaster, dry. is a good substitute for both grit and lime. as are crushed oyster shells. A good twice-a-week ration is meat scraps, and crushed bone meal or granulated bone. One of the most important things is a‘scratching shed. as the hens must be kept busy, and also happy, and if they are thus provided for and furnished with clean straw'and chaff, they will be both busy and happy, if not overfed. Fertilizers. Special fertilizers differ fro-m ordi- nary brands usually by having a larger quantity. of the elements of plant food and in a form which experience has shown to be best adapted to the crop. Special potato fertilizers contain two or three times as much potash as or- dinary superphosphates, and in many of them sulphate of potash only is used, as this form generally gives bet- ter results on potatoes than does mu- riate of potash. The special fertilizer is therefore a high grade compound as contrasted with lower grade goods. Sometimes misleading names are used, howevef. But a straight high grade or special fertilizer usually. gives more actual plant food for a dollar than low grade goods, and for that reason they are preferred by many of the most experienced farmers in the use of fertilizers. . Plowing an Orchard. Care in plowing an orchard should be observed, especially if the trees are young. I have three acres that I set to apple and per ch trees about 30 years ago. I got them in fine condition in three years, and was growing corn in the orchard with level culture. I had a hired man who knew more than I did, and he wanted to put in a plow. So I let him plow the corn up in ridges. That winter the ground lay bare, and the ground froze, and so did the roots of the trees, killing the peach trees and most of the apples. I have reset the peach trees and dug around the apple trees and manured them, but it has all been a failure. Probably had I plowed them all up and reset the orchard at once, it would have been the best thing. Apple trees pay best when the ground is let alone, and should not have too much trimming or pruning, but must have plenty of ma- nure and ashes—H. B. Elliott, Schuy. lcr 00., N. Y. ‘ A New Vegetable. Asparagus Pea has long been known to botanists, but it is now for the first time being introduced to our gardens as a plant, beautiful as a flower, excel- lent as a vegetable. According to its introducers, the plant is of neat, spreading habit, about ten inches high, each plant covering a circular space two feet in diameter. The deep scar- let or red flowers'are borne in profu- sion, and make a pleasing contrast with the light green, clover-like leaves. The pods. borne in pairs, are two to three inches long, with fringed wings. The young pods are cooked like aspar- agus, or string beans—American Agri< cultu’gist. Spices. Jamaica has the allspice which gets the credit of taking the place of many different spices; South America re- joices in the chile, which is used in great quantities. Cinnamon, a small portion of which was once held apres- ent which kings were glad to receive, is a native of Ceylon and has been known from the most remote time. It was first carried to Europe by the Arabs. Cassia bark is a relative of cinnamon, and is prized for flavoring liquors and chocolate. The Malabar coastof India furnishes the natives with cardamom, and mustard comes from the East Indies. The Spice Islands have given the world few things more popular than the dried buds of a tree smoked and dried in the sun, named in Latin from their resemblance to a nail, cl-avus, and called by us cloves. In the same group of islands 9. Small collection of islands are planted entirely of nutmeg trees. Caraway comes from the north em and central parts of Europe and Asia, is used as flavoring in cooking and drinks, in cheese, cakes and bread. Sweet majoram, native to Portugal and the East, is employed as a seasoning, and capers originally grew wild in Greece and Northern Af- rica. Asafetida, which has an unsa: vory reputation among us, is highly prized as a condiment in Persia and India, and is used in France.—Phila« delphia Press. ‘ - A i In growing ensilage corn do not use more than 12' quarts of seed to the acre in drills three feet apart. Let it: Stand until it begins to glaze some. It: is, no trouble to get 15 tons of ensiI-age to the acre. The idea that good ensi< lage will in any way taint or injure milk is ridiculous. An expert cannot detect ensil..'_ e-made milk if the ensi- es’gr is all right—F. A. C 11'.‘c;'.:.c. In. 1.
Norwalk Chronicler