Demo id
Bellefonte, Pa., April 21, 1905.
EE —— ——————————————
A SPRING CHORUS.
Oh, such a commotion under the ground
‘When March called, “Ho, there ! ho I”
Buch spreading of rootlets far und wide,
Such whispering to and fro |
And, “Are you ready 7” the Snow-drop asked;
“Tis time to start, you know.”
“Almost, my dear,” the Willow replied,
“I'll follow as soon as you go.”
Then, “Ha! ha! ha!” a chorus came
Of laughter soft and low,
From the millions of flowers under the
ground— .
Yes, millions, beginning to grow.
“I'll promise my blossoms,” the Crocus said,
“When I hear the bluebirds sing.”
“And straight thereafter,” Narcissus cried,
“My silver and gold I'll bring.” 3
*‘And ere they are dulled,” another spoke,
“My Hyacinth bells shall ring.”
And the Violet only murmured “I'm here,”
And sweet grew the air of spring.
Then, “Ha! ha! ba!” a chorus came,
Of laughter soft and low,
From the millions of flowers under the
ground—
“Yes, millions, beginning to grow.
Oh, the pretty, brave things! through the
coldest days,
Imprisoned in walls of brown,
They never lost heart, though the blast
shrieked loud,
And the sleet and the hail came down ;
But patiently each wrought her beautiful
dress
Or fashioned her beautiful crown,
And now they are coming to brighten the
world,
Still shadowed by winter's frown ;
And well may they cheerily laugh, “Ha ! ha!”
In a chorus soft and low,
The millions of flowers hid under the ground,
Yes, millions, beginning to grow.
— Harper's Young People.
EASTER EGGS.
A little chicken, seven weeks old,
Looking at eggs in crimson and gold,
Painted with flowers on either side,
And 1n golden letters, “Easter-tide.”
“Ah,” said the chicken, “when I am old,
1 shall lay eggs in’crimson and gold.”
One glad spring morning the church bells
rang,
And happy carols the children sang ;
But by her nest in a ioft, alone,
Stood the little chicken, now full grown.
“Alas I” she cackled, in great dismay,
“I have laid white eggs on Easter day.”
A dainty maiden—so I am told— :
Sat painting eggs in crimson and gold ;
She painted flowers on either side,
And in golden letters, “Easter tide.”
“Oh,” said the hen, ‘now I understand—
Easter eggs must be finished by hand.”
— Harper's.
FATHER’S SWEETHEART.
When Miss Morrell came to look at the
house next to ours she seemed quite nice.
- She smiled very pleasantly when she asked
for the key; and while she was down in the
garden she picked some apples and threw
them over to Bob and Tommy. They were
not her apples really, because she had not
taken the house; but I thought it was kind
of her. So I called when she moved in,
Mother is dead, so I'have to call. Father is
Frank Marchant, she celebrated anthor,and
Tam Molly. I was fifteen in June, and
Miss Morrell was thirty-one, she said. She
must have meant forty-one, because she
and father were boy and girl togesher, she
told me; and he is forty-three.
‘He was such a pice boy,’ she said.
‘‘He’d have done well if he badn’t been so
clever, poor fellow !”’
‘If he wasn’t clever, he couldn’t write
his stories,’’ I pointed out.
‘*What'’s the good of writing stories, if
you can’s sell them ? Clever men have no
sense ?*’
Iam afraid that is true, but of course I
would not say so, and I got up to go.
**Father is more than clever,’ I told her.
“‘He is the best man that ever was, and the
kindest. I will not listen to anything
against him; and I think perbaps it would
be better if yon did not call.”
I know it was not polite to say thas, bat
even mother was not polite if anyone spoke
against father.
Mies Morrell only laughed and took hold
of my arm. ‘
**Tat—tus, child ! I think well enough
of your father. I fancy he bas a very good
little daughter, too. Now zit down and
have another tea cake.’’
They were very nice tea cakes, and she
made them herself. She gave me the recipe,
but mine did nos torn ous the sane.
She was watering her flowers when fath-
er walked down the garden after tea. He
did vot notice her, because he was worried
about 4 plot. He had found a way of get-
ting the hero and heroine off a precipice,
but he could not think how to ges them
on ! She came and watched him over the
wall. She bad the waterpot in one hand
and some weeds in the other, and she wore
an old hat like a black basin.
‘Still up in the clouds, Frank 2’ she
called at last. He started and sarned
around. Then he held out his hand aud
laughed.
‘‘Mary ! Well I never !—It's good to
look at you again !”
I did not want to listen, of course; and
Dick was whistling as the front gate, so I
went ous with him. (He is Dick Carson,
and we are chums. He is nos silly like
other boys. ) :
*‘I don’s care for that woman,’ I told
him; but he only laughed and said I
needn’t be jealous. He is an impudent
boy. We wens round by the lane and came
home: across the brook. It was quite dark
when we got in. . Father was still talking
to Miss Morrell over the wall, and hadn’s
made the boys do their home lessons; and
they were watching out of the window.
‘Father's got a sweetheart, Molly,”
Tommy said. -
I do not often lose my temper with the
boys, bus I boxed his ears quite bard. I
was sorry directly, bas I could nos say so,
for fear I should ory. So I went up-stairs
to take of my hat. When I came down,
Dick had Tommy on his knee, doing his
last sum. There were white smears on his
face where he had oried, and I wiped him
ny andkerehiel, is
ick’s given me a penny, Molly,” he
said, and grioned at me. He isa kind
listle boy and never bears malice.
Dick didn’t look at me, and I thought
he was cross, I did not get up to go to the
door with him, ‘but be tilted me ous of my
chair, so I had to go.
“I wish I
*‘Oh,. Dick I”? I told him.
badn’s.” outs
“*Noneense,’’ he said. “‘Is will do him
good, the little wretoh. You didn’s hurt
m.
the symphony softly.
and father plays go beautifully. I thought
of mother, and took a deep breath, and
answers in the major.
comforting, the way that mother sang it;
and when I am worried abons things, I try
to fancy thas I hear her.
draw herself up for the last verse.
Noo but he was mother’s baby, and
I think I suould bave cried, bus Dick
was 80 nice to me, and said I was good to
the boys. I gave them four chocolates
each, and read a chapter out of Swiss Fam-
ily Robinson to them, when they were in
bed ;and Tommy said he hardly fels is, and
only cried to frighten me. I doun’s think I
did is very bard.
When I came down stairs father was sit-
ting at his desk, but he was not writing.
He did not speak till he canght me looking
at bim. Then he sighed.
*‘It has brought back the old times,’ he
said. ‘‘We were boy and girl together—
some day you will look back $o the simes
when you and Dick were boy and girl to-
gether.’
I did not say anything, but went into
the drawing room. If is bad not been fath-
er, I should bave told him not to compare
that woman with me.
At supper he talked about ber again.
She was always brighs, he said, and very
pretty when she was a girl.
‘‘People alter a good deal as they grow
older,’”’ I remarked. ‘‘I don’t know if you
noticed her hat ?”’
Father laughed.
. ‘That hat is not fascinating, certainly,”
he agreed. I thought he laid too much
emphasis on “‘hat.”’
The next evening they talked over the
wall again. The evening after he went to
see her. He took a bundle of Mss. He
never shows his Mss. except to literary
people or people he likes very much.
The next day she sent us a dozen tea
cakes. Fatherate two, and the hoys the
rest. I offered Jane some, bus she would
no$ touch them.
‘Not, if I was starvin’ and a bite would
save me !”’ she said. ‘I've got eyes in
my head, Miss Molly—she’ll never do by
’em as youn’ve done.”’
Jane forgets and breaks things, but she
is a good girl really.
The next afternoon Miss Morrell asked
me to take the boys in to tea. I told her I
was t00 busy; but the boys wanted to go,
so I let them. They are not old enough
to know better. She gave them three sorts
of cake for tea, they said, and sixpence
each. She helped them with their lessons,
too; but I found a mistake in one of Bob's
sums.
‘‘Ah !"’ father said, when I showed it to
bim. ‘‘She never was good at arithmetic;
bat she has a wonderful head for business.’
‘I'd rather be good than good at busi-
ness,’”’ I told him.
Father smoked his pipe for two or three
minutes. Then he laid it down.
‘‘She is good, too, Molly,’’ he said. ‘I
could tell you something—I will tell you,
because I want you to like her. She was
in love with a man once—they were only
boy and girl, really—and he was in love
with her. There was a misunderstanding,
and he went away,and got engaged to some
one else. Ome day he came back—and
found out what a foolish mistake he had
made. He would have broken the engage-
ment off, but she wonldn't let him. So he
married—the other woman,”’
I could have screamed to hear him speak
of mother like that; but I bit my lip in-
stead.
“If I had been the—the other woman, I
wouldn’t have wanted him, if he hadn’s
wanted me.”’ :
“She didn’t know, dear. She never
knew, right up to the time that she died.”
“You—he pretended he liked her all the
time ?”’
“He did like her. She was a nice wom-
an—a very nice woman, only—jyoun will
understand, dear, when vou are older.”
“I understand now,’’ Tsaid. *‘My—his
wife is dead. So he will marry Miss Mor-
rell.”?
“I don’t know.” Father filled his pipe
slowly. *‘‘I hope so. If he does —"’
“Is will serve him right,”’ I declared.
Then I went down in the shrubbery and
cried.
‘‘If ever you like some one else better,
Dick,’ I said, when I told him, ‘‘you’re to
tell me. I wounldn’é marry you for any-
thing, if you didn’t want to. Promise me
—No, no! It'sno use saying you never
will, because you can’t be sure—promise
me.”
Diok looked very serious and whistled to
himself fora long time. He does that
when be is thinking.
*I believe you're right, kiddie,” he said
at last. ‘‘I promise.”
*‘On your honor ?"’
He threw his head back a little.
“All my promises are on honor,’’ he
said. I do like to hear him speak like
thas.
I did not say any more to father about
Mies Morrell; bus I made what we called
“mother’s cake’’ for tea, and pus all her
photos about the rooms to remind him of
her. He took up the one where she is
holding some music, and looked at it for a
long Sime.
‘‘She used tosing a great deal at the
Morrells’, ”* he said. ‘‘Mary used to ac-
company her. We must ask ber in. She
will like to hear yon sing some of the old
songs.”’
‘I don’t want to sing mother’s old songs
to anyone bus you, daddy,” I said. *‘Come
and play for me, avd I'll sing ‘Afterwards.’
You can put it down a note and think it is
mother singing.’’
People say that my deep notes are like
mother’s, but of course I do not sing as
well as she did.
‘You can’t ring that just like your
mother, dear. Thank Heaven ! You can’s
feel it quite like she did.—Ah 1”?
“I'll try to feel it as much as I can. No,
in E flas, dear.” He nodded and played
Isis likea dream,
began :
“Beyond the bound of land and sea,
Beyond the touch of hand ;
Beyond the memory of me 1
1 shall look down, dear love, and see
Your tears ; and understand.”
She issapposed to he dying. The first
part is what he says to her, and the sec
ond par is what she says to him. Mother
ueed to smile when she came to “‘noder-
stand,”” and father ured to look over his
shoulder and smile at her.
“Light of my life, if I shovld miss
The path your faith has shown ?
My heart was heartened by your kiss;
But now—Dear love, be sure of this
You will not walk alone.”
He is in the minor, of course, and she
Is always sounded
Then she used to
“I shall look down, my dear—my dear !
‘Look down and smile on you.
Only he true and have no fear.
Only be true; and Heaven is near |
God jodge me as I'm true.”
I tried to steady myself and make my
voice like mother’s, and I seemed to see her
standing there with her hand on father’s
shoulder, and putting out ber other hand
to hold mine, when I was little and clung
to ber skirts. I took the low note in the
lass line quite full, and then something
seemed to clutch at my throat; and the big
photo of mother thas I had put on the piano
slipped right down on father’s hands; and
I shrieked and shrieked and laughed and
cried, and father couldn’s stop me any-
how. I suppose you would cali it hysterics.
I was better next morning, but Jane
made me have breakfast in bed. Father
was very worried becanse he was going
away to Scotland to do some descriptive
articles for the Daily Lyre. He began to
write out a telegram to say that he counldn’s
go; but I told him I was quite well, really,
aud Jane promised to look after me ‘‘like
a mother.”” So he went.
‘When he said good-by,he gave me a note
for Miss Morrell. ‘Ask her to wire ‘yes’
or ‘no’; then Ishall know what to do,”
be said. “Good-by, dear old girl. Be,
sure to telegraph if you want me back.’’
It is a dreadful thing to say, but I felt
as if I never wanted father back again. If
I hadn’s loved him so, I believe 1 should
have bated him. You woald understand
if you had no mother.
I told Jane about the letter, and she said
anyone could tell it was a proposal; and if
she was I, she would barn it. I was a
good mind to, but when I asked Dick, be
said ‘‘it wouldn’s be straight.” So I gave
it to him to do what he liked with it; and
he took isin to Miss Morrell. She asked
him to take a telegram to send off to fath-
er, but be told her that he would rather
not have anything to do with it. Hesaw
her write it; and it was ‘‘yes!”’ He wouldn’s
look at me when be told ‘me, hut he said a
lot of nice things about me and how good I
was to father and the boys, and Ishouldn’t
have to live with her very long, because he
was growing np. I think anybody would
like Dick. He isso kind. Jane was very
kind, toc, and didn’t even gramble at Bob
when he knocked over a pail of water.
“I'd have liked to hox his ears!’ she
said, *‘bus I thought of yon, you poor dear
—more’n a mother you've been to them;
and ’e ought to be ashamed of hisself, the
master ooghs.”’
In the afternoon I sat down in the gar-
den darning the boys’ socks, and Mies Mor-
1ell came and stared at me over the wail.
‘You don’t look well, child,” she eaid. *'I
am quite well, thank you,” I told her.
She put up her eye glasses and looked at
me. ‘‘You’re too young to look after a
house,’’ she said abruptly. “Anyhow,” I
said, *‘I have looked after it. I don’s sup-
pose I have done very well,but I have done
my best. No doubt yoncould do better;
but yon’d find it vory different to having
only yourself.”” Ithought I would let her
see that I nnderstood.
“I dare say I should.”” She sighed; but
she did not seem cross. ‘‘Do you kuow,
Molly, sometimes I wish I had others to
work for. Don’t you think I could help
you ?”’
“I don’t want any help,” Isaid; ‘‘and
if I did, I'd rather not have it. You see,
I promised mother. She wouldn’s wans
anybody else to do things for father and
the boys—only me.’”’ . I looked straight at
ber, and she shook her bead. ;
“We were children together,’”’ she said,
‘‘she and your father and I. I don’t think
she wnuld mind me.”
I gathered up the socks and angola to-
gether and got up.
“I think,’ I said, ‘‘she would mind you
very muoch.”’
Miss Morrell looked surprised and hurt.
“Youn don’t like me, Molly ?”’ she asked.
“No,” I told her; “I don’t. You have
sent the telegram to father, I suppose ?’
*‘Yes—your father has told you ?”’
‘‘He has told me.’”” It was not true; but
I could not let her think that father did
not trust me. ‘‘Good afternoon.”’
I went indoors and gave the boys their
tea. After tea I gave them two pennies
each to spend. I thought I should not
bave the housekeeping money for Jong; and
the would not do things for them like
mother used to, and like I tried to do.
Father came home on Sunday nights. He
had only just taken his bat off and sat
down in the armchair when she came in.
He jumped up and held out both hands;
and she trembled and half laughed and balf
cried. She looked quite young and almost
pretty ; and I hated ber.
“I am so glad, Mary,”’ father said. *‘So
glad, dear old Mary. God blese you
“God bles you, Frank—kind old Frank!”
she said. Then she hegan crying softly;
and he hent down and kissed her. I was
in the dark corner hy the ecreen and they
did nos seem to notice me. I felt my hears
thump and my breath come and go; and I
looked at them, and looked at she big
photo of mother on the inantelpiece. Is
was just beside them, as if she was watch.
ing them; and I ruvhed between them and
snatched it away.
‘Mother !’’ I otied. ‘‘Oh, mother!”
Then I seemed dizzy and tripped over
eomething: and Miss Morrell caught me,
and I didn’t remember anything more till
-I found her bathing my forehead with ean
de cologne, and I was t00 weak to push her
away.
‘‘My poor child.” she sobhed. *‘‘My
poor child !’’ Her tears fell all over me,she
was erying so. ‘We ought to have under-
stood. Is isn’t your father, darling. It's
my old lover that he hus found for me in
Scotland. That wus what I telegraphed
ahout. Now, we'll see if yon can’t like me
a little—No, no ! You mustn’s move yes.’’
But I satup somehow and held out my
arme to father; and he picked me up and
nursed me like a haby.
“I’ve only twosweethearts, darling,” he
said,and he wiped his band across his eyes;
‘your mother—and youn.”’
I shall never gnite forgive myself for
thinking of him lke I did, but it was only
because I was wo fond of mother.—By
Owen Oliver, in the Delineator.
The Spirit of Easter.
Easter is the promise of the Lord that all
the hest and noblest in man shall be re-
newed even as growth and bloom and
ripening shall not cease. The bars of win-
ter are broken, and the iron bands of death
are riven. The bird is on the wing, and the
flight of the roul shall know no weariness.
‘The lilies lifs their holy white grails,brim-
| med sunshine of God's love, for has not the
Lord manifested his love in flowers and in
the upspringing of green things? They are
aweet interpreters of large certainties. Each
year the winter outs them down, and each
spring they put forth again. Every spring
is a new page in the book of revelation,
wherein we read that life is an eternal
genesis and its end is vos, for it endureth
forever.—Helen Keller in Youth’s Cum-
panion.
——Housekeeper—I'll give you a good
meal if you'll light the fire in the stove for
me.
Weary Willie—All right, lady.
“Very well. Here’s a hatchet.
chop some of that wood out there—?’
“Oh, see here, lady, I thought it was a
Juss
gas stove yon had!
for Easter.
EASTER LILY MOST POPULAR.
The Easter lily will be the most popular
lant this season; the price is to range
ront 20 to 25 cents per bloom for potted
plants, though a few of the choicer speci-
mens, whose flowers have attained an unn-
usnal size, will bring premiom figures.
Florists reserve a number of such plants
for their regular customers or any one who
is willing to pay the extra price.
AZALEAS SECOND CHOICE.
Next in favor to the Easter lily is the
azalea. Small azaleas, it is said, will be
sold this year for $1.00, but these are
only the scrub plants. The lowess
est figure at which a really fine plant can
be purchased is twice that sum, and above
this you may go as high as you please.
Large specimens, such as are exhibited at
the flower shows, containing a thounrand
or more blooms, bring $25 when in perfect
condition.
HINTS FOR DECORATING.
For decorating the house during Easter
week there are a dozen or more varieties
of plants not so expensive and which are
very effective when stood about in pots.
The cineraria is one of them; it is a tall
plans, flowering profusely, like a small
daisy in shape, aud gives the room an ex-
quisite perfume. Acacias, too, with their
mass of green leaves and myriads of little
yellow flowers, are very pretty.
DAFFODOWNDILLIES.
Oatside of lilies and azaleas a window
display looks bess with daffodils, tulips or
hyacinths. In the potted plants the daffo-
dils for Eastertide are going to sell for 50
and 75 cents; the two last-named will bring
from 25 to 50 cents a plant. Any one of
these three plants, cut, will look well ina
window. Hyacinths are always better
when preserved in the peculiarly-shaped
glass jars that the florists use; daffodils and
tulips should be placed in tall vases or
pitchers.
THE CUTE SIDE OF IT.
A numerous family is that which is as-
sembling for the Easter holiday. It is
composed of ducks, geese, chickens, 1ab-
bits and pigs. Some members of this col-
lection are clever imitations o? the original;
others are merely cotton, cradely fashioned
buat none the less fascinating, while still
auother branch represents the comio side—
the clowns of the Easter animal circuns, as
it were. ,
Flowers
Of the latter the ducks and ducklings are
the funniest. One ludicrous duck rakishly
wears a high bat and seemingly proclaims
his importance with wide open bill. He
is a cotton affair, nicely tinted with water
color. Contrasting with him is the demure
little stuffed duckling which fell into the
taxidermist’s hands ‘before it got to the
stage of uttering a single quack.
Stuffed chicks, also real, there are in
pletty, and, as companions to them, flnffy
white chicks of cotton, like balls of down.
Quite realistio is the caricature in colored
cotton of the chick’s fist attempt to
crow.
Ssorks are beginning to be recognized as
an Easter necessity along with the con-
ventional rabbits and chickens. They come
in all sizes, some as tall as swo fees, beaun-
tifully painted. The nicest, however, are
the smaller ones, standing upon a single
leg, alongside of a ness. The ness is filled
with tiny eggs and placed at the plate of
the child on Easter morning.
The plan of filling a dich with eggs is
now considered hehind the times. To make
the sur prise more of a feature it is necessary
that the Easter breakfast table should
present the appearance of a miniature
menagerie, All sorts of surprises are in
store for the youngster. -He opens a pretty
basket and out pop three funny heads, a
rabbit and two chicks; underneath the pad-
ding of cotton are the candy eggs. A beart-
shaped box with a rabbit and a chicken
on the lid is an appropriate Easter remem-
brance from a little boy to a giil, or vice
versa, Bunny sitting in a tub is another
of the surprises, for when youn lifs it out
a whole nestful of small eggs is disclos-
ed.
EASTER MAILING CARDS.
Mailing cards and Easter postal cards
are the latest. Those intended for the
children contain a pretty sentiment or
some mysterious wording to arouse juve-
nile curiosity, The promises made in print
by the Easter rabbit are always caloalated
to excite the awe of the youngest, Cards
intended to mail in an envelope are deo-
orated with the smallest of small cotton
chicks, generally three in a row, or in lien
of chicks, rabbite or ducklings. The regn-
lar postal cards are mailed hy affixing a
one-cent stamp in the usual manner.
A Plea for the Easter Bunny.
Now that certain clubs and organizations
are trying to bring ahous a general vote to
serve Santa Claus with notice to quis, is
looks as though the Easter Bunny would
"be rent hopping after him.
There's something sad in all this attack
opon the legends of childish days. Even
the good old prayer, * Now I lay me,”
which most of us aiesentimental enough to
believe can never he improved upon, is in-
veighed against, the cbarge heing that one
live of it is full of '‘the bugaboo of death,”
and the ress of it *‘too usterly childish !"’
The [Easter Bauny seems harmless
enough. And the interest of the children
is as wonderfal—the anxiety for fear that
some stnpid grown-up may come along and
shut the window down tight, instead of
leaving the necessary erack for the Bunny
to creep in through ! Aud the breathless
rush to inspect the nests which have heen
80 mysteriously built in odd corners.
Wonderful eggs are in those nests—pink
and lavender, blue and red, with chocolate
for the bess of all, and a generous lot of
the little sugar eggs (the kind that are
epeckled all over) filling in odd corners
Children aren’s always deceived by these
legends, and the deceit isn’t the kind that
does harm, any more than a bit of poetry
does a grown-up. It’s a treat to the imagi-
nation, and a child’s imagination craves its
treats as surely as we older children do.
Leave your window ‘‘on a orack’’ the
night before Easter if there’s a child in the
honse. Aud provide yourself with plenty
of eggs, to belp the Bunny as you helped
Santa Claus. It’s the days which some
mystical personage influences that are the
bright particular memories in later years.
~—Benbam—I know a woman wrote
this story.
Mrs. Benham—How do you know ?
“The author makes a man have the last
words,”’
——*Do you shave yourself all the
time?’’ asked the barber.
“No. I stop occasionally for meals,”
said Jimpian savagely.
Flock of 800C Pigeons
One of the largess pigeon plants in the
United States is located at Hammonton,
N. J., the birds, about 8000 in number,
consisting of puare-blood Homers, that
breed having be:n found to be the best for
producing choice equabs for markes.
The buildings are divided into lofts,
each loft containing 50 paiis of birds and
each building is lined with heavy building
paper. These lofts are thoroughly cleaned
every four weeks, the nests from which
the equabs are removed being dusted with
air-slaked lime, to which a proportion of
carbolic acid is added.
Three heaters, and a line of two-inch
pipe running from each, and into the sev-
eral houses, keep the temperature at about
50 degrees, day and nighs, during the
winter season.
There are regular shipping days in each
week. On such days the rquabs are taken
from the nests early in the morning, be-
fore they have been fed by the old birds,
80 as to bave their crops empty when
killed. The squabs are marketed when
about one month old, If the nests are
well filled the marketing is done daily.
The yonug are packed nicely in layers,
large, clean sugar barrels being used, the
squahs being arranged with the breasts up.
About 10 pickers are employed, their work
being to remove the feathers. 1he squabs
are dry picked.
The buildings are seven feet high at the
front, six feet as the rear, 15 feet to peak
of the roof and 16 feet wide, being di-
vided into compartments each 10 by 12}
feet, the passageway being 33 feet wide.
As stated, each compartment (or loft)con-
tains 100 biida (50 pairs), with wire-cov-
ered ruos outside. By this plan, an or-
dinary city lot may be used for keeping
1000 birds or more, according to the area
of the lot.
It is estimated that each pair of birds
should prodoce six pair of eqnabs in one
year, though some pairs will hatch as
many as 10 pairs of rquabs, the prices
ranging from 20 to 50 cents per squab.
The cost of food for a pair of parent birds
and their young, for 12 months, is about
$1. The parent birds feed the young until
the fquabs are nearly ready for market.
Squabs are in demand every month in
the year, the prices being highest in Jan-
uary and Febiuary. Strict cleanliness is
essential and the use of the best breeds
muss not be overlooked, the Homers hav-
ing the preference with the majority of
breeders, as they are careful parents and
also produce superior sqnahs.
To Live to be 100.
By following these precepts, which Dr.
J. B. 8. King, of Chicago, submitted to
she Natural Health club recently you may
live to be one hundred years old.
For a sudden strong effort of severe trial
eat meat.
For a long continued effort for endur-
ance eat cereals.
Afser exhausting mental labor eat yolk
of eggs.
After exhausting pbysical labor drink
infused tea.
For a pure brain stimulant drink
coffee.
For paleness eat lean meat and
spinach.
To make gray brain master eat eggs,
beans and oats.
For sound sleep eat onions and garlio.
“*The first thirty-three years of man’s
life is for growth,’ he declared. The breast-
hone, which until the thirty-third year is
composed of three bones, then consolidates
into one, ending the growing period. The
next thirty-three years: is for work. The
remaining period is for. the enjoyment of
fiuits of labor.”
*‘Many people who get stout at their
fortieth year think they are in fine shape.
Mistaken idea. Stousness at forty is asign
of old age munch as giay hair. When itis
noticed, the diet should be cat down one-
third. The ideal old age isto be lean,
spare and active. Old age loves fat, while
youth detests it.
**Qats for children and Indian corn for
adults is almo<t perfect food. Meas is the
only food for a severe effort. Too mach
meat however causes bad temper. The
nearest approach to a perfect brain stimu-
lant is coffee.’’
Yellow Locust For Ties.
. While the Penusylvania Railroad com-
pany has gone rather extensively into the
planting of yellow locust for the purpose
of supplying material for ties, it is not
probable that at any- time will the area
planted by the company he sufficient to
mees the demand and the Chief of the
Maintenance. of Way Department has un-
dertaken to encourage the planting of these
trees by farmers and others living along
the lines of the company. While for gen-
eral purposes, white oak is regarded as the
mast durable of all woods and has been
very largely utilized for ties, recent ex-
periments seem to indicate thas yellow
locuss will be found much more serviveable
under the tracks. The element to he moss
congidered in the tie is not the freedom
from decay, bus the behavior of the wood
under the rails where the fibies are out oat
very quickly by the passage of the trains
aud the tie rendered useless for railroad
work, although is is yet generally sound.
The life of a white oak tie in about ten
yeais oun the line of a busy railroad, such
as the Pennsylvania, and it is expected
that the yellow locast will show a much
better record than this. Darimg the pres
ent year it is designed toses out no less
than 8,000,000 trees on the pioperty of the
railioad company. Tbe work has heen
progressing almost at this rate for several
years, bus even this great forest of trees is
nos adequate. It is estimated that to sup-
ply the demands of this company a contin
nous growth of 39,000,000 trees covering
125 square miles would be required.
Meningitis and Other Epidemics.
Like the rain of meteoroids, cerebro-
spinal meningitis is epidemio every thirty-
three years, according to Health Officer
Darlington, of New York. The rate of
mortality in the present incursion of the
disease in that city is 40 per ceut. in the
hospitals and from 50 to 60 per cent. in
private practice. He maintaivs that it is
not caused by local unsanitary condisions.
There have been 1800 casesand 681 deaths
reported. However, many mistakes in
diagnosis have been discovered. Is is esti-
mated that there will be from 600 to 800
more cases by the middle of May. The
meningitis committee decides shat the
germs enter the system throngh the nose.
On Friday there was one death in Chicago
from this malady, the first since nine years
ago, when the deaths numbered 150. In
New York smallpox assumes an epidemic
form every six or seven years. Measles, the
most contagious of all ailments,ir epidemio
every other year. The health officer
diots for this year the worst visitation of
measles ever known, and aeks for $4.500,-
000 to fight it. Boston has begun ranitary
housecleaning as an anti-meningitis meas-
ure.
pre.
ALL SoLDIERS NAMES WILL BE IN-
SCRIBED THEREON.—Now that the move.
ment for the erection of a soldier’s monu-
ment in Bellefonte has progressed to that
state of certainty that there is no longer any
doubt ab us it,and there is every assurance
that it will be put up this summer, in time
for unveiling inthe early fall, there are many
inquiries from old soldiers and sailors as to
just whose names will be entitled to appear
on the bronze record plates of the monu-
ment. The following letter from General
James A. Beaver we gladly publish with-
out farther explanation, as it is explicit
enoogh for ail to understand :
BELLEFONTE, PA., April 8th, 1905.
EDITOR WATCHMAN :— .
Inquiry has been made by some of our
citizens as to whether or not the names of
the soldiers who served in the Revolutionary
war and in the war of 1812 would be borne
upon the bronze tablets on our soldiers’
monument, That, of course, is intended.
Although Centre county was not organised
until 1800, there were men from Northum-
berland and the other counties from which
Centra was taken serving in the Revolu.
tionary war, and others came to reside in
Centre county after the war was over. The
name of every such man should be borne
upon our monunent.
We will begin, of course, with Brigadier
General James Potter, one of the trusted
general officers in Washington’s army. He
came here, as I understand it, before the
Revolution, but was uot living here at the
time hostilities were carried on. He was
then in Cumberland county, but he lived
here subsequently and had so much to do
with the development of the county that his
name should, of course, appear. Personal-
ly. I would be glad if we could get a good
picture of him, to have a bust of him upon
the monument.
Two of the first men to join our Veteran
club, when it was organized, were Major
James Armour and William Gill, soldiers of
the war of 1812. We recognized them as
comrades with great gratification, and I am
sure our monument would not be complete
without their names and those of all others
like them who served in the war of 1812,
Let me appeal to the people of Centre
county to send the names of all Revolu-
tionary soldiers, of those of the war of 1812
and of those who served in the war with
Mexico, to Gen. John I. Curtin, so that
their names may appear upon the bronze
plates which will constitute the most val-
uable part of our monument.
It is understood also that the names of
those who enlisted elsewhere, but who came
to reside in Centre couuty and made their
bome here after the war, will also be car-
ried on these plates. Also the men who
served in the Spanish-American war.
This is to be a soldiers’ monument and
not merely a monument to those who
served in our Civil war. Our committee
has emphasized this on several oceasious,
and we hope our people generally will un-
derstand and appreciate it and wiil assist
in every possible way in securing the name
of every man who is entitled to appear
upon the monument.
Very cordially yours,
JAMES A. BEAVER.
The Strength ot Birds.
Birds can eat and digest from ten to
thirty times as much food in proportion to
their size as men can. If a man could eat
as much in proportion to his size as a spar-
row is able to cousume he would need a
whole sheep for dinner, a couple of dozen
chickens for hreakfast and six turkeys for
his evening meal. A tree sparrow has heen
known to eat seven hundred giass seeds in
a day. Relative to the bird’s size, these
seeds were as big as an ordinary lunch bask-
et would he toa fall grown man. :
A biid’s strength is equally amazing,
says the Indianapolis News. A white-
tailed eagle weighing twelve pounds with a
wingspread of six feet, has heen known to
pounce on a pig weighing forty-two pounds,
raise it to a height of a hundred feet and
fly off withit. The bird had covered a
distance of half a mile before the pig's
owner succeeded in shooting the thief.
Birds can and do work far barder than
human beings. A pair of house martins
when nesting—wili feed their young ones
in twenty seconds—that is, each bitd, male
and female, makes ninety jonrneys to and
fro in an hour, or ahout 1000a day. It
must be remembered that on each journey
the hird has the added work of catching
the worm. :
Even so tiny a bird as the wren has been
counted to make 110 trips to and from its
nest within 430 minutes; and the prey it
carried home consisted of larger, heavier
and haider-to- find insects than were canght
by the sparrows. Among them were twen-
ty good sized caterpillars, ten grasshoppers,
seven spiders, eleven worms and more than
one fat chrysalis.
Robert Burn’s Bible.
One who was present at Sotheby's, Lon-
don, when the Burns Bible was put up at
auction reports the incident for the Evening
Post:
*“The most interesting Barns relio, gen-
tlemen, ever put up for anction in this
house,’ were the first words of the anction-
eer, and the bidders responded promptly.
“A hundred pounds, and an Irishman
makes the firat bid,’’ continued the gentle-
man atthe desk. A group of Scotchmen
raired the bid to three haundred pounds
and four hundred pounds, and then diop-
ped sullenly out; they represented a num-
her of Burns societies who wished to keep
the Bible in the poet’s own land. After
this came the real bidding, a ‘‘triangular
duel’’ between Mr. Quaritch, Mr. ‘Stevens,
and a bookseller from Edinburg. Mr.
Stevens surrendered at one thousand
pounds. The other two continued the
battle, the sympathy of the onlookers he-
ing clearly with the Scotsman, as it was
supposed that Mr. Quaritch was buying
for some American. Whether this supposi-
tion wae correct or not does not yet appear,
bus Mr. Quaritch finally closed she com-
petition with an offer of une thoneand five
handred and sixtv ponnds. Said a tall
lady present, ‘Who is Mr. Quaritch ? Is
he an American 2° Whereas there was a
moment of wondering consternation in the
room. The lady was no other than a rela-
tive of the poet and the late owner of the
hook, yet she had never heard of the most
celebrated book-dealer in thie world.
Reduced Rates 10 Pacific Coast Points.
Via Pennsylvania Ratiroad.
On account of the Lewis and Clark Exposi-
tion, as Portland, Ore., June 1st to Ovtober
15th, and varions conventions to be held in
cities on the Pacific coast during the sum-
mer, the Pernsylvania Railroad Company
will sell round-trip sickets on specific dates,
from all stations on its lines, to 8an Fian-
cisco and Los Angeles, April 9th to-Septem
her 27th, to Portland, Settlement, Tacoma,
Victoria, Vancouver, and San Diego, May
220d, to September 27th, at greatly reduced
rates
For dates of sale and special information
concerning rates and routes, consuls near-
est ticket agent.
——Snbseribe for the WATCHMAN.