' ‘ "' BROWN. ""
It was pretty to see how she named th..t Us}.
As he led her, a bride. fro'in the church r. “2-1.3.-
”There was trust in her smiling and in». 1.- iv
l ' her eyes.
’For she truly believed she had won a p: 9.: .
There was no telling. then. she wouli :2 ‘3
5815’.
What wonderful things he would do ”urn:
day.
His genius would certainly win renown.
Fame had nothing to give too good for
Brown.
The years rolled on and the. loving light
Still shown in her eyes as she watched uni-l
night.
He hadn't done much in the way of arl ——
The career upon which she had set her heart
But politics yet his aid would claim
.And he‘d find his sphere and would hear hi.
name
’Echoed in country house and town.
(The world would clamor in praise of Brown
Ago hovered near; it was but to find
3 or old ambitions left far behind.
Lnt she clasped his hand as he ploddcd on
believing that fortune must surely dawn.
'i'hat wealth, which may come in a single day
\‘v'ould yet turn honors and joy their way,
And then their own burdens of care lait
down.
The grateful poor should remember Brown.
Her disappointments could never dim
The loving faith that she had in him.
And she tenderly speaks in the same old was
Of the wonderful things he will do some day
She thinks that his virtues were far too great
.For a thoughtless world, this thoughtles:
world, to appreciate,
"That the sweetest harp and the brightes‘.
crown
' .Are being reserved. as his due, for Brown.
' —P-hilander Johnson.
'LORNE’S LONG DRIVE.
This was the problem that confront-
‘ed a tall, well-formed young man 01
20: Transfer a herd of 1800 cattle
from the Bar L. Ranch, of 'lexas, to
market in St. Louis in 60 days. Lorne
Mitchell stood by his father’s bedside
and considered it
“Just this depends on it, boy,” the
elder man said. “If I lose it means
:the profit of a year‘s work, for there
“is a forfeit up—if I get them there, we
will be well fixed. 0, I wish I could go
myself.” '
“Bu-t you cannot, and I will.”
Lorne picked his company of cow-
boys, rode hastily across country al-
most as straight as the crow flies to
the ranch lands, gathered the herd 01
"long horns,” and turned the little sea
-of thin, nervous faces northward.
There was a sea of sharp, branching
horns, too, and such was the wildness
of the range cat-tie of those days that
horse or rider alone would meet death
among them. Only the man on horse-
back was respected.
The drove had been pushed onwards
with signal success for the firsl
few days till the drovers reached the
Bad Lands. There, one cloudy even-
ing, a‘drozen bandits swooped down on
- on Lorne and his‘ cowboys, stampeded
the herd and bound the drovers, leav-
ing them lashed each man to a sapling,
who free themselves, as they could.
The hours went by and not one 01
:the men could loosen the ropes which
:tied them so securely to the strong
.young trees. The night seemed an
age, and more than one of the border:
wished before daylight that the cat-
tle stealcrs had taken the lives of the
'whole party, so agonizing was tint
strain on the swelling wrists and thc
grip of the ropes on the throbbing
necks. .
The sun was' just visible over a
thicket to the east when the cock call-
ed, “Boss! Say, boss!”
' “Yes,” answered Lorne.
“I can move this here rope up thc
tree.”
"Move it, then."
’ The man stood up, sliding-the rcpt
painfully higher and higher. The sap
ling was a small one and the knots had
.loosened a trifle.
“Can't you get up the tree a ways?’
asked the leader.
“I'll try it," '
With a bitch and a. catch .hs cook
who was the lightest of the party
found that he could lift himself all
his feet, and then pinching the tree
with his heels made a few lDChJS mon
progress.
This he did time after time until he
«was three or four feet up the sapling
and the tree was bending over.
“Bend it my way," said Lorne, anc
stile man changed his position so as tc
incline toward the tree where thc
leader sat helpless. -,
Then another hitch and another
bend, crash, crack, and the (21' k, with
the upper part of the sapling still tied
to him,‘was on the ground. But hf
was near dome, and by a good deal on
writhing and twisting got his teeth
.near the'knots that held the lariat Witt
which the leader was bound.
Like a wolf gnawing at meat he
tugged and struggled with the raw-
hide, and at last was rewarded by a
l
slight relaxation. Again he hit one
pulled—then, at last, after it seemec
he could work DD more, the knot gave
way and he saw Lorne rise , iinfully
:and slowly and .stretch he .grampet
.arms and limbs.
A few ,minu-tes more and lb ., cattle
men were free.
“That’s one step,” remark: . Lorne
as they stood, a woebegonc wmpany
in the early morning light. “The nexI
is to find that herd of catzl-a.” .
Going to the cook's wag-m, whicl
stood a considerable distall.’ 3 back i:
the ravine, theyfound it had not beer
disturbed, and from its contents they
made a hearty breakfast.
A few knives and one shtigun werc
found there for weapons, and Lorn.
.slung over his shoulder a sax. it of salt
thirty pounds. or more. ‘
“What's that for?" asked the cook.
“No-thing, perhaps,'but we. may neec
it mighty bad,"
Then they trudged away, following
the trail plainly marking the course DI
the cattle. The herd had kept fairly
.well together and run for two miles;
before it finally was halted by some
particularly luscious pastor-age.
. Thence it had evidently lean driven:
' westward in an orderly manner and ne‘
vatrngsrlnr swan was In eight
-~
an
0n (belittle party trudged. The l
horses belonging to the cook's wag..
had been found near the vehicle, '
the cattlem-en took turns riding them.
By night they were still out of sight c.
the herd and Lorne had serLC"=
thoughts of giving up and returni, -_
home.
"We'll try it one more day," he 2?-
nounced, and the next morning, aflw
a meal on a jack rabbit their gat-
brought down, they followed it"
herd's course.
Late in the afternoon they climbed T
sharp spur of the Ozarks and saw (.1
the western slope a picture that ma (1:
their eyes glisten. Scattered over the
rich grass were the cattle, and or.-
two guards kept the stmg-glers withi.
bounds.
The robbers evidently though? theu- ‘
selves safe from pursuit and were. res:-
ing up the stock before turning them
northward.
The cattlemen watched until dusk
then Lorne gave his orders.
“Stay here until you hear a meadow
lark’s call over on the other side, Then
stampede the herd down the velley. It
will demoralize the gang and we will
trust in luck. They will think there’s
more of us than there are.”
“But how will you stOp ’em?"
“Never mind—obey orders.”
Lorne rode away on one of the
horses and an hour later was two miles
down the valley where the clifis con-
tracted the outlet to the plains and yet
made a gap through which the herd
must pass.
Loosing the sack of salt he let a fine
stream run from the cover as he walk- ‘
ed back and forth across the valley.
“There,” said he, surveying the
white lines dimly visible in the gather-
ing darkness, “that ought to do.”
A moment later the cowboys heard,
clear and sweet on the evening air, a
meadow lark’s thrill—repeated—and
repeated.
Racing down the slope they were
near the quiet herd before the catttle
realized their presence.
Then with a yell and some outland-
ish cries they started the beasts, which
were only too ready to break away.
And break they did, a rushing, push<
ing mass of hide and horn, galloping .
helter—skelter, down the valley, un-
mind'ful of the two guards, who, re-
enforced by two others, were vainly
endeavoring to stem the tide so rapidly
escaping.
As the cattlemen came up, they be-
gan an attack on the robbers and soon
had control of their horses and two of
the men prisoners. But there was no
time to parley or hold prisoners, and
the men were released, while they went
on after the fleeing herd.
“They'll be scattered a-n' lost, sure,
this time,” said the cook. ,.
“Can’t nothin’ help it,” agreed the
chief herder.
But Lorne, sitting on a ledge down
the 'valley, heard the rattle of boots
and did not feel alarmed.
Upon the next instant depended his
fate and his fortune. If the herd went
on and became scattered over the
prairie and through the ravines, he
could scarcely hope to get the cattle
together before the robbers would be
reinforced.
Nearer and nearer came the herd.
an occasional hoarse bellow showing
the excitement. The leaders rounded
the curve; an undulating mass, dark
and sea-llkein the darkness, followed;
an instant now and the success of his
experiment would be shown!
Lorne almost fell off the ledge where
he sat in his eagerness to distinguish
what happened. The leaders passed
,by, the next row threw down their
heads, the next tried .to stop, the fourth
did stop, as far as the pushing force
behind would allow. it, and then the big
herd was crowding and fighting to get
a taste of the salt. It was a victory
for bi-aiiis'l .
Lorne laughed ali‘ndst hysterically as
he saw what had occurred.
All night the men drove the animals)
northWard, and halted at daylight--
As they rested, a sound rase beyond
a little row of hills that made all their
faces beam with joy.- '
It was the reveille of an army camp!
A small force of soldiers from Fort
Smith, on a reoonnoitering tour, had
camped for the night, and was glad to
aw“ as escore for the young drover as.
he pushed his herd toward the Mksouri
line.
Soon the way was safe. Though time
passed swiftly, the city's smoke was in
view, and the stock yard’s gates opened
ten days before the limit—and Lorne
had won?-
One day, four years later, some pris—
oners were brought into court from
Arkansas. One of them Lorne recog-
nized—the man helped tie the young
A drover to a_ tree. He longed to visit
some retribution on the culprit, but
concluded that the court would do it
with greater justice—and it did.
Finally Convinced.
“I have been a great many year
reaching the conclusion,” she said
thoughtfully, “but I guess I_ may a:
well admit that my husband is thr
moat indolent man alive."
“When did you discover it?"
“Yesterday evening. He puncturec‘
his bicycle tire. Instead of goin
ahead and fixing it, he sat down to
half anihour to see if it wouldn't gr.
its second wind."—Washington Star.
3 A lice Line.
The eyes of bees are made to St
great distances. When absent fro
their hive they go up in the air t’
they see their ‘home, and then fly t .
ward it in a straight line and wi'.
great speed. The shortest line betwe:
two places is sometimes called a “be
line.”-——St. Nicholas.
Old Milyuns—“Young man, u
daughter tells me you kissed her 12
night." Percival Tootle—“Well, if s
wants to go bragging about it. thai
her nrivileze "—flhicazo Record
. /
~
WM -‘ ”Ros—9‘ ..
T ‘ ~ ";¥'."L~).’; ::/"1|A’\:J"£.f\r‘7>v:éf “.n. .
l f. ‘4'
V ‘ "
How to Clean Furs.
The ancient idea that really good
furs will last forever is'a fallacy, and
l many an owner of a fine sealskin jack-
et or fine ermine cape Will soon be as—
. tonished when she looks at her furs for
.the first time after a- summer’s seclu-
l sion to find that they look very shabby
lfrom lying in a ,camphor chest for six
1 months.
If a dealer has had charge of such
-_.__.._._.
articles during the off season they are
kept in good condition but if the own-
er has taken them into her own keep-
ing she will no doubt be glad to learn
how her treasures may be renovated
and made to look as good as new.
Ermine and sealskin are best clean-
ed with soft flannel. Rub the fur del-
icately against the grain, and when it
, has been thoroughly lifted and revers-
:ed, dip the flannel into common flour
and rub lightly any spots that look
{dark or dirty. Then shake the goods
[well and rub the fur with a clean, dry
flannel until the flour is all removed.
, Sable, chinchilla, squirrel and mon-
key skin may be very effectually clean-
. ed with hot bran. Procure a small quan-
‘tity of bran meal and heat it in an
'oven until it is quite warm. Then
rub it softly into the fur and leave the
goods for five or ten minutes before
'shaking to free it from the bran.
Mink may be cleaned and freshened
with warm cornmeal, and, like the oth-
jer short-haired furs, may be done
.withOut removing the lining. But the
‘long-haired goods are best ripped
apart and freed from stuffing and lin-
ing.
‘ Those who may not care to go to the
trouble of taking fur garments apart
,will find that the simple remedies
-mentioued will go a long way toward
lmaking the jackets and capes look
'clean, even if not ripped apart..—-__
Washington Star. ‘ | l
‘ Mud Pies in “’inter.
' Children both small and great love
lmything that approaches building or
'modelling, and many a mother is ig-
norant of the fact that as much care
' has been taken by provident people to
.store this wonderful play material as
food itself. For a few cents at a
store where artists’ or kindergarten
materials are sold, this clay may be
bought, from which, supplemented by
a. few very simple tools, any amount of
pleasure may be obtained, and such
igood qualities as skill, patience and in-
genuity be encouraged. It is very im-
{portant to discourage anything ap-
proaching a st00piri'g p‘dsitibn "‘wti’e‘n
{this fascinating work is going on, and
‘to secure for the younger children the
inexpensive low table used in the kin-
- dergarten. For the older ones a com-
mon- pastry board on an ordinary ta-
ble is all that is necessary.
The mother may constitute herself
the teacher of this modelling class,
and in one lesson may show her de-
lighted pupils how to reproduce al~
most any simple article fancied.
To be ready for the‘lesson it is nec- ’ I
essary to have sent home fifteen or
twenty pounds of clay and five pounds
,of plaster of paris.
Much of the delight to the young
folks in this work consists in the fact
L-t-hat the manipulation is to be wrought
'with the hands. However, with the
clay may be bought fiat boards with
handles for occasional use.
All that is needed now is a cup of
.warm melted lard and some small
iwooden tooth picks or broken match.
as
.—
l The children for this first lesson
should be influenced to choose easy ob-
jects—for instance, pears, apples, or-
anges, or bananas—New York Her-
aid.
l About Palms.
As the Winter housekeeping is begin«
ning to be set up, the chatelaine looks
jto her'greenery. The florist will tell
you that the average life of the house
palm, even the robust Lantania, is
about seven years, but there are many
,women who proudly display splendid
7growths they have owend ten 'and a
idozen years. “All a palm needs," says
one of these women, “is intelligent
care. To begin with, they should nev-
er he suddenly chilled. Many palm
owners permit the maids to open the
window directly on the plants every
day all Winter and wonder long be-
fore Spring why they have drooped
and rusted, if not died outright. They
need an even, warm temperature, with
plenty of sunlight and clear water giv-
en regularly. They should stand near
a sunny window. but not where
draughts will strike them. Twice a
week fill the jar, from the earth to the
brim, with water, and this inch of wa-
ter is sufficient moisture for the roots.
Once a week, with equal regularity,
spray the leaves. Unless attacked by
some insect, palm3~thus looked after
are sure to do well.
florist’s aid must be sought."
The ‘Vaitresses’ Dress.
The mourning-like garb so long
worn by maids and waitresses is, being _
displaced by pure White gowns. 'Cer-
tainly a fresh white gown, a sheer
muslin apron with the folds still in it,
and a becoming cap are more appropri-
ate for a well-heated and brilliantly
lighted dining room than the sable,
nun-like uniform, and such a. costume
is much more comfortable for the
wearer. ‘
In French cooking the “bouquet of
sweet herbs,” which is so often given
in recipes, is composed of a few sprigs
of parsley, a piece of thyme. a clove
of garlic, a bay leaf, a couple of cloves
and some peppercorns. Wrap the
parsley around thesother he;bs and t e
a thread around them. Put into soups
or sauces in this shape it is then more
easily removed. ,
If worms come, a .
BLOUSES DECILEDLY IN svnoasce *
Stitching a Dlstlnotlve Feature as Trim
min; on Gowns.
(By specie“: arrangement with the KY.- Sun.-
‘The new dress skirts are in ever:
way commendable for comfort and
grace-as well. The linings, which t¢
be really up to date must match thl
outside, are made with a knifemlaltet
frill set in on the edge entirely with
out stiffening, and quite separate fron
the dress skirt except at the waistband
Skirts are scant in comparison with
those we have been wearing, but the:
are cut in such a. way as to give them
the pretty, becoming flare around thl
feet. The new sleeves are proportion-
ately small, quite close, in fact, witl
very small puffs or frills at the top
The length-wise shirring is not at
much used as it was. Every search af-
ter exclusive designs and some really
new variety in style is met again and
again by some formof the ubiquitous
blouse. To be sure, it may have 5
guimpe attachment which is charming
but it is a blouse still, diversified by
trimming in all the elaborate, intricaté
patterns which can lid fashioned.
It is of no use to protest against this
style of bodice, for apparently there is
nothing else to have except the close-
fitting coat bodice, tailor made, and the
boero, which is to be worn again this
season, with the additional bloust
vest. It appears on some of the latest
cloth gowns, either high in the'necll
or cut V, or round in shape, to show
the under bodice. The lower edge is
usually cut out in blunt points or
squares. The arm-holes are finished
with narrow, plain epaulettes, and thc
whole jacket is braided in the most
fascinating manner. Revers of velvet
'are the finish on some of the new bole-
ros, but with braiding all over they
are very pretty, with only a. row of
buttons down either side of the front.
Stitching is decidedly a distinctive
feature of dress trimmings. and is ap-
plied to velvet, cloth, satin, and the
thinnest materials. Cloth gowns are
stitched in straight lines or curling
designs all over the blouse bodice and
around the panels in the skirt, very
much like some of the patterns worked
out on the old-fashioned bed quilts.
Shirrlng on cloth and velvet is ,done in
a very clever manner for all sorts oi
trimming, and velvet which has been
gathered on the machine find the
stitches in which have been pull u! out,
leaving only the effect, is sold by the
yard. Narrow bias bands 0" satin
stitched on in rows or. i1; 2.45 and
bodices are unmistakably .i.u fashion
this season, as fashion is warrcsentell.
at the" moment, and the . ,/ .l'gument
against them—for they he very cf.
fective—is the possibility that they will
become very common, in poor satin
and careless work. To be pretty the
- satin must be of good quality and per- .
| fectly put one
CHILDISH
WISDOM.
‘Twas' the hour for
prayer. and the
farmer stood.
With a thankful
heart and a lowly
mind. ~
And prayed to the
Author of every
Hood.
That the Father of all
Would he very kind
And bless His creatures with raiment and
food;
That the blessings each day might b6 re-
newed: ‘
That every man might find relief.
And plenty for hunger, joy for grief.
Be measured by the Merciful One
' To all who suffered beneath the sun.
The prayer concluded. the godly man
Went forth in peace to inspect his farm.
And by his side delighted ran.
Glowing with every healthful charm.
His little son: a sprightly be.“
Whose home was love. and whose life was
JOY:
And the father said, "The harvest yields
A plentiful crop, my son, this year: .
My barns are too small for my grain. I fear."
And they wandered on through row upon row
0f plumy sheaves. and at length the child.
With earnest look, and a rosy glow
On his shining cheek. looked up and smiled
And said. "My father. do you not pray
For the poor and needy. day by day— ~
I‘hat God. the good. would the hungry feed?"
"I do. my son," “Well. I think, as you plead—
His eyes waxed bright. for his whole soul
shone through.
“That‘s what God if he had your wheat
would do." ——J. W. VV'ard.
A Little Story for Little Folks.
My name is Twinkle Eye. I live in
the cellar of a. big mansion with. my
mother and brothers. Of course, I am
the smartest one of the family, so I
am going to tell you about a terrible
adventure I had not long since.
Some friends of ours had been tell—
ing about a fine, big chese that was on
the top shelf of the cook’s pantry, and
oh, the thought of it just made my
eyes snap and my mouth water. Tab,
the house cat, and I were “outs,” and
I was pretty shy of her because her
eyes were so large and so awful sharp;
so I set my wits to work to escape her
velvet paws. .
Tab had three pretty little kittens
that she was verymuch attached to,
so she spent a great part of her time
with them. One day I kept a bright
look out and when she was. paying the
strictest attention to them, bathing
and nursing them, I made a. run for
the pantry and succeeded in reaching
the top shelf in safety, and found the
deliciOus cheese I had heard so much
about. I soon became so deeply inter-
ested in nibbling the cheese that I fer-
got all about my enemy, when sudden-o
1y I heard a noise below me, and look-
ing over the edge of the shelf, Spied
Tab eying me wickedly. I became so
frightened that I almost lost my bal-
ance, indeed so much so that my long
tail hung over the edge and Tab made
a spring for it. I did not lose my tail,
though I nearly lost my head, but
‘ made a dash for life. The next mo-
ment I found myself in the bottom of
a great big brown pitcher.
Tab was as much surprised as my-
self, for she had lost a supper she
had seemed sure of only a moment be-
fore.
Just then the cook came in and
screamed “s-c-a-t!" and Tab found
that she must attend to her kittens im-
mediately. Then I heard the cook say,
“Shure, mistress told me to put it in
the big brown pitcher where the chil-
dren couldn't find it."
“Now," thought I, “I have escaped
one danger only to fall into another."
Cook grabbed the pitcher, and my
heart jumped up into my mouth, until
I suddenly remembered that my moth-
er once said that women were more
afraid of mice than of an army, so I
took courage and made a bold spring
for life._ Whatwas the, result? Cook
gave a regular Indian war-whoop and
dropped the pitcher, and I—I scam-
pered away as fast as fast could be,
and soon found myself in my dark cel-
Trades Followed by Anl‘mals.
Bees are geometrlcians. The cells
are so constructed as with the least
quantity of material to have the largest
.spaces and least possible loss of inter-
stice. The mole is a meteorologist.
The torpedo, the ray, and the electric
eel are electricians. The nautilus 18
a navigator; he raises and lowers his
sails, Casts and weighs anchor, and
performs other nautical acts.
Whole tribes of birds are musicians.
The beaver is an architect, builder,
and woodcutter; he cuts down trees
and erects houses and dams; The mar-
mot is a civil engineer; he not only
builds houses, but constructs aque-
ducts and drains to keep them dry.
The white a‘nts maintain a regular
army of soldiers.
Wasps are paper manufacturers.
Caterpillars are silk spinners. The
squirrel is a ferryman, with a chip or
piece of bark for a boat, and his tail
for a sail, he crosses the stream.
Dogs, wolves, jackals and many oth-
ers are hunters.
The black .bear and the heron are
fishermen. The ants have regular day
laborers.
The monkey is a rope dancer.~—Chl-
cago Inter-Ocean.
f‘The child is father of the man, my
son."
“All right, pa, I’ll get my slipper.
Meet me in the woodshed."—New
York World.
A good character is the best tombs
stone.——Lutheran.
Shredded Fodder Best.
During the past few years unusual
intermrt has been taken in shredding
fodder. Many have hesitated thinking
that the shredded corn would not keep
well in the mow or stack. When first
practiced more or less fodder was
shredded in a somewhat damp condi-
tion. It invariably heated in the mow,
became musty and gave unsatisfactory
results. The fodder should not be run
through the machine until it is entire-
ly dry and well cured. It would be
better over-dry than not dry enough. 1 .
In 1895 at the Indiana experiment sta-
tion all of the corn fodder was shred-
ded. It kept well in the mow, and
was free from mustiness. The cattle
and sheep ate it freely, and it was
used well into the spring. '
There are several points in favor of
shredded fodder. It is more econom—
ital to feed than the uncut corn. It is
eaten up cleaner by the stock than
most out fodder, there being less waste
due to the absence of the hard, sharp»
edged and short butt pieces of stalk
usually found in cut fodder. The re-
9
i
p
fuse makes better. material for bed-
ding than does whole stalks or cut
pieces, being finer and softer. It han-
dles far better in the manure pil‘e than
does the entire stalk. It does not
make the mouths of cattle sore, while
that of coarsely cut fodder oftentimes
does. It packs more economically in
the mow than does uncut fodder.
feeding value of shredded and cut fod-
der is practically the same.
Shredding is coming more and more
into practice, and many farmers are
making use of the process. Shredders
and huskers combined are made, or
the shredders may be bought sepil'
rately. Baled shredded corn hay may
now be found in the hay markets and.
it furnishes a valuable class of coarse
food for horses, cattle and sheep. A‘
ton of shredded fodder contains over
three-fourths of a ton of digestible
food for the animal body. In these
times of low prices, the farmers of the
country cannot afford to allow their
fodder corn crop to go to waste, 85'“
long as it can be used instead of other
rough stuff.- Shredded, it may be ban-
dled and fed to the greatest advantage.
-C. T. Plumb,- Indiana EXperimeut
Station. . _ .
Proper Food Prevents Pig-’Ea‘ting‘.
_ No sow that has the range of a clue
ver field, or that has a large part of
her daily ration, bran, shipstuff or
middlings ever eats her pigs. Pigs
eating sows generally are fed a heating
diet of corn, a. feed notably deficient in
protein, but especially phosphates and.
potash. The pig-eating habit grows
out of the craving of the mother for
that quality of which her system has
been so thoroughly depleted in the de
velopment of her young. '
Throw a. beef head from the slaugh-
terhouse to the most confirmed pig-
eating sow and she will drop a pig out
of her mouth to eat the meat and
crunch the bones. A 300—lb. sow will
entirely consume every part of a beef
head that she can break, become quiet
and nurse her pigs with evident sat-
lsfaction. Coal, slack, rotten wood,
old bones laid on the coals in the
cook stove after the meal has been
cooked, to soften them, regularly fed,
to the sows that are expected to far-
row soon, will help to furnish the
needed food and prevent that abnor-
mal state that results in eating pigs.
A very large part of the diet of
brood sows ought to be bran and ship-
stuff, and the pigs will came with a
strong bone structure, healthy and;
vigorous. These feeds are very rich;
in bone-making material. What we
want is preventive measures, not cruel
straight jackets to restrain. Study the
minus and quality of the feed you use
md you control the rescue—Agricul-
wrist.
How to Milk Properly.
A farmer who generally did his own
milking, employed a bOy. The milk
shrank one-third in two weeks. The
farmer resumed milking and in two
weeks got the same amount as before.
Afterwards he set the hired man to
milking and the milk shrank 10 per
cent in two weeks, and in two weeks
more, the farmer milking again, was
back at the standard. This man milks
quickly and very clean.~ He closes the
forefinger and thumb around the teat
high up and makes a downward mo-
tion, tightening the grip and forcing
out the milk. He then lets go his
circle, carries up the hand and presses
it smartly against the udder, closes
and pulls down as before. The idea. is
to given as near as may be the sama
motion the calf does in sucking. {.
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American Molly.
The increased demand for the Amer-
lcan holly when loaded with berries
for Christmas decorations, is making
rapid inroads upon the supply in parts
of the middle Atlantic states and fur-
ther south, and there is likely to be
a. scarcity before many years. In an-
tiCipation of that time, would it not
be a good investment for those having
land to spare to set out a. few or man ,
acres of this handsome evergreen f
the purpose of supplying the demand
:or berry-bearing branches during the
holiday season. If such plantations
“xere established, dealers in our larger
:.ties would gladly pay an extra price
“Jr uhoice selected stock to .be for-
‘azded freshly cut as ordered.
"Mr. Chrbbs, your little boy doesn’t
‘ '23. your very well."
“so. he has never respected m-e sinc
i tried. to show him how to fly a kite."
-C’nicago Record.
The.
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Norwalk Chronicler