Demorraic Waldman Bellefonte, Pa., October 13, 1911. Not that there be less to bear, Not that there be more to share; But for braver heart for bearing, But for freer heart for sharing, Here I pray. Not for scenes of richer beauty, Not for paths of lighter duty; But for clearer eyes for seeing, Gentler hands, more patient being, Every day. Not that joy and peace enfold me; Not that wealth and pleasure hold me; But that I may dry a tear, Speak a word of strength and cheer On the way. —~Sheriot M. Hall, in N. Y. Observer. THE REBELLION OF WILHELMINA. “Tiny,” began Louisa, with tears. Louisa was forty years old, married with god fortune far beyond her deserts to Barrett, and the mother of six chil- dren. “Tiny—" Wilhelmina answered long before the es of her other sisters, Harriet and cy had had time to flash to each other disapproval of Louisa’s tactlessness. Har- riet was Mrs. Herbert Wilson, Mary was the wife of the Rev. John Smith. “My name is not ‘Tiny,’ Lousia. It is Wilhelmina, and I wish you to remember | it. I was perfectly willing to be called Tiny when I was a baby, but now that I am forty-two years old and five feet nine inches tall, I do Bot like it, especially from persons younger than L" "Very well,” assented Louisa, dully. She said to herself that she would have | assented to anything, if only this horrible business could be cleared up. But of that ia could see no prospect, even though the minds of all of them were bent upon its solving. Their father was at hand also, working at his desk in the next room, but he could not help. Father did not count, had never counted. Within his book-crammed library he was allowed to be as queer, as untidy, and as irritable as he liked; outside it, his wife and his younger daughters had always treated im like a child. He was su to understood his Arabic texts. Harriet al- ways spoke of the texts as Choctaw. Now he worked away calmly, making | the strange noises in his throat to which his women-folk had long since grown ac- customed, and remaining totally oblivious to the fact that there was in progress the | first serious difficulty of their amiable lives. The slight testimony he had given | had only complicated the matter for Wilhelmina. Either by chance or with great tact John Barrett had taken himself off. He was Miles Barrett's brother, held in enor- mous awe by Miles’ wife. When he had arrived unexpectedly from Boston she had sent him as usual to her father’s. This time her guest-room was being papered, and John was not a person to whom one could offer less than one’s best. Louisa and Harriet and Mary all sent unexpected guests or bothersome children to their father's. And John Barrett al- ways frightened Louisa, he was so im- portant a person, and exceedingly culti- vated. Louisa never knew whatto say to him. She often wondered what he thought of Wilhelmina, and hoped that the superior creature comforts which one had at “father’s” would compensate for. the dullness of mind of an unmarried woman of forty-two. She had advised Wilhelmina to send his breakfast to his room in the English fashion. Fortunate- ly, he was not there for many other meals. Louisa still prayed that he might have been away all of last night. It was bad enough to have a sister unmarried at forty-two; it was horrible to feel that that sister had been guilty of an amazing in- discretion and that a person like John Barrett knew it. Wilhelmina stood by the window, the sunshine on her curly hair. Her sisters had always envied her her curis and her slenderness. They envied her the more now as they themselves grew fat and y. It seemed such a waste for Wil- mina to be so pretty. Wilhelmina made no defense; she pre- tended not to know what they meant. “It was this way," explained Harriet. She was not tearful like Louisa; emotion made her almost savage. She had been outrageously treated, and she meant to speak her mind. Her husband's depreca- tory cough had no effect upon her. "We came into town to the theater and we missed our train." “As you Jory often do, Harriet,” inter- rupted Wilhelmina, calmly. Already in the position of the greatest strategic value with her back to the light, she now sat down and took up some knitting as an additional support. She never sewed; she hated putting in tiny stitches. It wasnot until much later in the day that any one remembered that for the first time in her life she had knitted on Sunday. “It doesn’t make any difference whether we miss it or not," Harriet went on. "The children are well taken care of, and it gives Herbert a longer night's rest.” “We always have to waken Wilhel- mina,” reminded Herbert, uneasily. arriet proceeded, unheeding. She never paid any attention to what Herbert said. Sh earned from her mother how to manage a husband. “It is perfectly right that I should come to my father's It is still my home, just as though dear mother were still I said—" She turned from Herbert to Wil- i Es i of in attendance at this | And why did they not come to the point? there. | It was perfectly true that Wilhelmina had “That,” wailed Louisa, “is the awful dove © pl rk ng or aw often] there in the ht it was — was per- ten I may go in t fectly sure that. Wiihelmina could ex- future.” plain. Her three brothers-in-law, even the Wilhelmina smiled back at him. “Harriet can't sleep in a bed that is n't freshly made up,” she said. She turned to look smilingly at Harriet. “I 'm sorry, can't see that itis any- Rev. John Smith, stared a bet With uson. ished, amazed approval. Her three sis- ters stared at one another aghast. That Wilhelmina, in the foolish immaturity of an unmarried person, might yield even about. You 've been once to the temptation to be unconven- married for fi years, and you've tional was hard to believe; that she bold- missed your train at least once a week | ly to repeat the offense was in- since, and I've never failed to Tet | crane y There was a woman of in and make you comfortable. Have i their a Nidllemed 132" who sur- ; "It is my father's house," protested ' rounded herself with a circle of admiring | Harriet. “I've always ised you, and | young men whom she took yachting and | helped you run it. 1 ought to be ‘let in,’ | as you call it.” : . . “No, Harriet.” Wilhelmina laid down | her knitting for an instant. “It is fath- ! er’'s home, and it will be all his life, but ' lit is not his house. It is my . They remembered with terror the el- Aunt Wilhelmina gave it to me, as you derly men, friends of their father, and the | know. And—" Wilhelmina paused for | boys, sons of friends of their own. who an instant, then went on with the de- | liked to go to see Wilhelmina. They re- liberation of one who has long weighed membered 2lso their own childr/n,” Wil- | her words— “the furnishings are mine. | helmina's neices and nephews, whom | Mother left them to me in her will, | they had expected her to enrich as their | as you know. I am delighted to have Aunt Wilhelmina had enriched her. Sup- | you and Herbert come in at any time, pose Wilhelmina should buy a yacht and even in the middle of the night,and I am an automobile! rfectly willing to get up and let you in. | Harriet found her breath first. do not mind Louisa’s sending Mr. Bar- “No unmarried woman should go to a rett here—" : theater or to supper alone with a man if “Does he know ?” faltered Louisa. she is eighty,” she declared. “The newer | Wilhelmina looked at her. “Does he set may do those things. We do not.” | know what, Louisa ?" “But suppose,’’ said Wilhelmina, slow- It was then that Louisa remembered | ly, “suppose I should say I was going to | that the main issue had not been touch: be married.” !ed. “Oh, nothing,” she groaned. “What Louisa spoke as though she were plan- | were you saying, Ti—Wilhelmina ?" ning Wilhelmina’s funeral. "And I am perfectly willing,” went on “Father would have to—to announce | Wilhelmina, even more calmly, “to have your engagement,” she faltered. “And | Louisa’s four children here for a month you could have a matron of honor. Any | while the other two have the mumps, ' one of us could beit. And we would give | and then to have the two while the other | you luncheons and—and—but, oh, Wil- four have the mumps. I am glad—that | nelmina, why do you do it?” is, I have been glad to leave the furniture | Wilhelmina ignored the last despairing exactly where it has been for the last i wail. twenty years because Mary has a senti- “I think that such weddings are vul- mental fondness for having it the way | gar.” mother placed it, even though it 's incon- ~ “Vulgar!” cried Harriet and Louisa venient and mother would have changed and Mary together. All their weddings it long since, but I wish you would real- had been six-week pageants of dinners ize that is because I like to please you, and luncheons and theater-parties. Again and not because I consider it my duty. their husbands looked at each other automobiling. Was Wilhelmina, staid, forty-two-year-old Wilhelmina, to become another Anna Lenwood? They knew no wrong of Anna Lenwood, but her behavior was undignified, unconventional, mad. i { And here-after—" slyly, “But—" began Harriet. | "Yes, vulgar,” said Wilhelmina. “But, Tiny!" gasped Louisa. I “Well, I give up!” cried Harriet. “Why, Wilhelmina!” cried Mar. i “And to whom,” faltered Louisa—"to “She's perfectly right,” said Louisa's whom would you like to be married?” husband, and the other men nodded. - They became each moment more desir- | was married last evening at Dr. Pryor’s. ous of escape. Their errand began to Then we went to the theater. We sat seem insulting. Mary's jolly preacher | two rows behind Helen and Mrs. Went- husband reminded her that church-time | worth, and we went out early on purpose was approaching, and she answered that | to avoid them. I never thought of their there was still an hour. : | driving past owr restaurant. Then we “But, Wilhelmina!” Harriet's voice came home. choked. She was geting to her subject this morning by special messenger. at last. Louisa began to cry, red spots | you had waited a little longer you would came into Mary's cheeks, and the men looked at the floor. “Where were you | “I am married,” said Wilhelmina. mail.” Harriet looked at her, gasping. “]—I—don’t want to seem like a spy, “And who," gasped Louisa, in her mind Wilhelmina, —none of us do—and we j2 dozen frantic ibilities of attractive, wouldn't d-dream you could do anything | foolish boys and unattractive old men, wrong. As I said, we missed our train, | each of whom was an enemy taking an and then we could not get in. We didn’t | inheritance away from her children— mind standing in the snow and banging | “who is the man?” at the pipe. And we might have gone | “The man?” Wilhelmina flushed crim- right to a hotel, only I had to borrow | son. A man appeared suddenly in the overshoes to go home today, on account | doorway. At sight of him Louisa groan- of the snow, and, besides, I was frighten- | ed once more. It was John Barrett. She ed. So we went to the chemist's at the | had been praying that he would not ap- corner and rang his night-bell, and he pear. : came down and let us in, and Herbert = John Barrett seemed to be very much called you up on the ‘phone, and there at home. He walked across the room, was no answer. It was twelve o'clock, put his arm round Wilhelmina, and call- for a week.” Wilhelmina.” "ed her Tiny. “The maids aren't expected to answer ' “What do you think of it?” he asked the ‘phone after eleven.” | them all. “But the extension ’'phone isin your | sitting-room, and you sleep with the door | open and you are a light sleeper. You weren't in the house, Wilhelmina!” ‘of you supposed that a man could live in “Well,” said Wilhelmina. | the same house with her without falling “And you hadn't told any one you were | in love with her, did you?” going out, and there has never 2 | His brother,and newly acquired brothers- ht in your life that we didn't know | in-law rushed forward to seize his hand. re you were, and—" . | To each of them Wilhelmina nted a Wilhelmina laughed almost hysterical | flushed and dutiful cheek. Her sisters ly. “Iam seven years older than you, | did not come forward. Harriet managed Harriet.” ; to cross the room to put her arms round "But I am married. And I have had | her father. He had come into the room children, and I—I know the world, and | not to assist in the discussion,—~he had we have always planned everything for not known that a ion was in pro- you, and we have tried to make it u to gress,—but to find a book which he had- you because you weren't married, and—" | mislaid. In the “Don’t you think it is time I had a lit- | gentle administration he had occasionally | tle liberty?” asked Wilhelmina, lightly. | forgotten that he had been trained to keep | “And so this morning early we called | his books in the library. Harriet em. | up the house again, and got father, and | braced him tenderly. ! he said you were home last night. “We can forgive her for treating us “ t you believe him? ... | this way,” she mourned; “it is you for “Our dear father,” sobbed Mary, "it | whom we resent it, Father. To goout of | would be so easy to deceive hiin? your house alone, and be married at the | Louisa too burst into sobs. “And John | clergyman’s without an engagement, with- Barrett must have known it,” she said. [Sel attendants, without—" “I had to seck him here because the room Father shook himself free. was being papered. I don’t know what “Now, Harriet,” he said, “don’t be a he will think. I—" | goose. If you are talking about Wilhel- Wilhelmina got slowly to her feet and | mina's she had an attendant. I looked ound ats eae her three at | was the a Wilhelmina, where is sisters r grep y superior hus- | my book?"—By Elsie Singmaster, in the bands, and over their heads at her father ey Hoge, working away in the library, Her eyes Seated to say that the joke had gone far = . enough. “Will you good people please tell me what you mean?” she asked sharply. “Miles, what is it?” ! There was no cutting in before the flood of Harriet's speech. “Sowe called a taxicab and drove to Louisa’s and there—and there—" The “John!" said Miles Barrett. “Is it you?'' cried Louisa. “Of course,” said John Barrett. “None n w The Spinning Ant of Ceylon. The spinning ant is found in India, in Ceylon, in the Islands of Malacca, and in Australia. This ant weaves its nest be- tween two leaves of a tree, Preferably the mango. It begins to buil by drawi all nonsense, I'm sure," he said. | “Louisa and Herbert came in, terribly op wrought up, and we couldn’tget the house Someti on the ‘phone, and then our Helen came in in great excitement to say she'd seen ou into a restaurant with a man, told her she must be mistaken, but she insisted that she knew your hat or coat or something. The women t it was late for you to be out, that’s all." "Then what was my neice doing out at | such a hour?" ask : £ BH AAD “] I sent you STROURESTOE | | have got them. The others have gone by | last night?” . “Announcements,” cried Harriet—‘to | “Where was I last night?” repeated | your sisters!” Wilhelmina. “I didn't wish to be talked over even Jers of Wilhelmina's | FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN. DAILY THOUGHT. Time is infinitely long and each day is a vessel into which a great deal may be poured—if one will actually fill it up.—~Goethe. —— When the calendar of saints’ days was compiled, there was found to be one day too many, so for fear some worthy saint had been omitted, and also to make pro- vision for those saints who might be canonized in the future, the first of No- vember was dedicated to all the saints— hence its name. The evehing before, oc- curring on the thirty-fi-st of October, was held to be hallowed, and it gained the name of Hallowe'en, derived from all hallows. In Burn's poem “Hallowe'en” a vivid and amusing description is given of the mystical ceremonies performed at the entertainments of the young people on Hallowe'en evening, with a view of reveal- ing husbands and wives. A mystic charm has always hung about this night, and, although the ancient cus- toms prevailing in Scotland and Ireland have long since given way to more prac- tical amusements, there still lurks a su- perstition about the occasion which is hard to dispel even in these prosaic days. Some Mystic Games.—One of the pret- tiest customs is that of paring a polished red apple with a silver knife, the art con- sisting in not breaking the paring until the apple is peeled; then tossing the curl- ing peel over the lett shoulder, without looking, until it is heard to fall upon the floor. when the thrower looks to see what initial or initials it resembles, these being supposed to be those of the future mate. The Test of the Ships of Fate.—An- other pretty custom is that of the ships of fate, which are made of the hollow shell of an English walnut, filled with melted wax, a cotton wick being inserted, or a small candle fastened to the bottom by melting the end of the wax taper. It takes three such boats to determine a fate. One is plainly marked with the owner's name, the i two contain fold- ed slips of paper, each with the name of an admirer inscribed. The three boats are then placed side by side in a wooden tub of water, wreathed in greens, and the candles lighted. It is a pretty sight to watch these tiny barks, especially if sev- eral fleets are embarked at once, for the interest deepens if one boat veers off and attaches itself to another party. The candle of the admirer which burns long- est is supposed to be the lucky swain, while if the maiden's candle burn out first, she is still to be a maiden. If the boats lack life, a small breeze may be created by gentle fanning. — A Modern Version of an Old Supersti- tion.—The occupation of the future lord is determined by melting lead and pour- ing it through a key handle. The shape | is supposed to be a symbol of the future business or profession. Many stories have been written of the maiden who, at midnight, ascended the stairs backward with a lighted candle and a hand mirror, not looking back until the second stair was reached and then, peering over her left shoulder by the aid of the candle, seeing her image reflected by the side of her lover. A more prosaic modern meth- od is to blindfold the. girl. and lead her three times around a low stool on which rests a pail of water wreathed in greens. She must repeat a doggerel, and when | the bandage is suddenly removed she | must look into the pail, where it is sup- | posed she will behold her lover's face be- | {side her own. This is managed by | | placing a piece of unframed mirror {in the bottom of the pail, which is set I near a curtain behind which the admirer is concealed until the proper moment, when he looks into the pail for a second. - This creates much fun and mystery. ; Amusing Feats For Children.—There are many amusing games leng ago given over to the children, such as filling a tis- sue paper bag with bonbons or favors | and suspending it from the portiere rail. | | In turn, each child is blindfolded, placed | {in front of the bag, given a cane, then | told to turn three times and strike. If | fortunate enough to hit the bag, the scramble. without touching it with the hand. A performance much enjoyed by wee | folks is the placing of three funnels on i The skill con- | i small saucers on the top. upsetting the saucer; this accomplished insures the victor against ill luck. | Suiiestions for Entertaining Guests.— | A Hallowe'en party for grown-ups might | be given in the following manner: : invitations should be inscribed on yellow ' paper, as this is the color for Hallowe'en, road.” At the entrance to the reception room cross two brooms, tied broom end | , with a handsome bow of broad | yellow ribbon, the handles tied all the | way up with narrower ribbons. If ! | handles are not long enough to reach ' across the entrance, they must be sup- : ? paper breaks and the bonbons or gifts | come tumbling down, which causes a| Another feat is to suspend a huge ap- | ple by a string and, after giving it a gen- | tle toss backward, to attempt to bite it to human li ! the fleor, several feet apart, and balancing | sists in jumping over each one without | and inclosed in them should be a gold or yellow paper horseshoe, "For golitid the cides, are bunches of white grapes, while at the base of the pumpkin there is first a wreath of green and then a wreath of polished red a The rest of the table may be set with small artifi- cial Jack-o"-lanterns,candles, bonbons and favors. Just after the ice, which is in the form of a small pumpkin with green leaves the 3pDles are served, with a small silver fe. Then the lid of the pumpkin is raised, disclosing the tinfoil lining and “the hollow space filled with English wal- nut shells, containing a written fortune for each guest. The Hour for Tempting Fate.—After supper the eerie hours begin, and as the guests reasemble in the urawing rooms they discover in one corner a tentlike booth, with a gipsy ready to tell fortunes. Another corner has a chafing-dish with lead beside it to melt, and a third has a tub wreathed in green, with the ships of fate beside it on the tabie, and slips of paper and pencils to inscribe the names. In the meantime each girl is presented with a dainty hand-mirror, which she keeps as a souvenir. Candlesticks are presen‘ed to the men, who light the can- dles and escort the girls to the foot of the stairs. The Honorable White Elephant. Among the ancient customs that are passing away in the kingdom of Siam, under the influence of Eurcp:an ideas, is the worship of the white elephant. The white, or albino, elephant is not white, in any strict sense of the word, but merely of lighter color than other ele- phants. It was, and to some extent still is, worshipped by reason of the fact that it was supposed to contain the soul of some dead king. White elephants are really the inferiors of their darker fellows in strength and health, and generally in intelligence. Like white mice and white rabbits, they are apt to be weaklings, and easily be- come the victims of all sorts of diseases. Many wars have been fought, the Siamese say, over the possession of white elephants. One of these wars is record- ed in the annuals of the seventeenth cen- tury. The King of Siam seven white elephants of the greatest beauty, which were the envy of all farther India. At that time the city of Pegu, in Burma, which has now relapsed to a less than secondary importance, was the capital of a rich and important kingdom. The King of Pegu, deeming that Siam had more than her share of white Slephiants, sent an embassy to Bangkok to demand some of.them. The Siamese court promptly refused to grant this demand, whereupon the King of Pegu invaded Siam with a great army. He laid siege to Bangkok, and in time, after many lives had been lost in the battles fought, the city capitulated. The Pegu people, however, treated the Siamese with great consideration. The royal palace was not entered. The : temples were left unviolated, except that a soldier entered one of them and cut off the hand of a golden idol. This hand was afterward restored—miraculously, the people believe. However, the Pegu people carried off six of the Siamese white elephants and a great store of treasure. Until within recent times the stables of the King of Siam always contained a number of white elephants, and the fath- er of the present King had seven. These were treated with extraordinary consid- , eration. Attendants were told off to see that their every wish was gratified. There were great fans with which to keep the pachyderms cool and drive off the flies; and when they went out to walk they were protected by huge um- brellas from the rays of the sun. They were served in vessels of precious metals, each elephant having before him two vases, from one of which he ate and from the other drank. The white elephants were given water that had been kept six months, it being the Siamese notion that that which was the oldest was the most wholesome. The tusks of the sacred male white elephants were decorated with small bells made of gold. A chain of golden links | surrounded the head of each, and a cush- | ion of embroidered velvet was upon each | elephant’s neck. { Where the Cereals Originated. What was the origin of the cereals now cultivated by the world as indispensable | e? Wheat, rye, and barley | are to be the result of long and | pai ing judicious effort. Their be- ginnings were hard. Human ingenuity, | spu to effort by the imperative de- mands of life, was tried to the SRTeily i before any grain was seen in the c tion first noted by ancient chroniclers. The agronomical engineer of Caiffa, Pal- | estine, has published some interesting in- | formation in this During his ex- | plorations and researches in Syria and | estine he found growing spontaneous- ly among he wild grain of the Folds pro. : totypes e barley, wheat, and rye o the world’s commerce. This is of impor- tance to all who believe that the alimen- tayy grains originated in the Holy Land. wild grains found in the fields of Syria and Palestine show the characteris- tic peculiarities of the barley, Je, and wheat of the commerce of the Western The wild wheat found in Syria grows in ganny Places where the ground is thin, a . { Dow: of assimila) fa prov ng so far to e the early fathers of ulture were | 1 : : : i fi | » { = : ¢ E i g F § | be i § ? i 5 3 : £ Eg § | ef ) i" i Hi : § he y . It develops most SE REY i rye an ey prefer gound less i imilation. FARM NOTES. —Manure will always give good re- turns, and especially on poor land and when the plants are doing poorly. —The best-flavored pork is obtained from feeding skim-milk. Next to this corn, barley, cats, peas and wheat pro- duce good meat. Potatoes, the by-pro- ducts of flour mills, beans and the like are not so desirable. —Alfalfa should always be planted by itself, never with a nurse crop, except when sown in the fall on land which drifts badly. sown on such a field it may be well to seed a peck of oats or barley at the same time, if the alfalfa is seeded in the fall. —Use a spring-tooth harrow, a reno- vator or a disk harrow in the spring just before a growth starts or just after a crop is removed when the soil becomes hard and compact or very weedy. When a disk is used, set nearly straight and weight down, so that it will run the de- sired depth. —In the wse of potash as a fertilizer for grass the Maine experiment station finds that the greater results are seen in the second cutting. The potash shows only a moderate effect in the first crop, but Ereatly increases the growth of clover, so that the second cutting or aftermath is Secidedly heavier than when no potash is used. _—The Washington State College has figured that when only the best methods hold and the highest standing of packing boxes are employed, the cost of growing one box of apples and placing it on the market is 53.1 cents. It is found that the expente of growing and marketing a box of fruit is five and one-half cents greater than the fruit from the dry farms. —The real cost of keeping sheep is much less than that of any other farm animal. He requires the least grain, and this is exclusive of preparing him for the market, which time is of comparatively short duration, and aside from this his feed consists mostly of nibbles here and there of feed which cattle and swine would overlook and would, but for the sheep, gO to waste. —When weather conditions are very unfavorable the young plants may die. When this occurs, reseed on the same land the following spring or fall, as the case may be. If the leaves turn yellow or rust badly, or if severely attacked by insects, or if weeds grow rank and shade the young plants it should be clipped. Clip whenever the plants begin to blos- som, even during the first year. —The Department of Agriculture says that consfant feeding the soil with com- mercial fertilizers gradually sours the land. Some vegetable manures even have a tendency to sour the soil quickly. Never use such manure in a green state where you wish to plant beets and like-natured plants, Potatoes would enjoy such a condition. That is one of the reasons potatoes often do so well on new land. —What are called mining mules are being raised profitably in the Middle ‘West. There are two classes necessary for the occupation—the surface and the pit mules, the size and the weight of the latter determined by the size of the tun- neling. These animals are wanted to range from 600 i unds to 1350 in weight, and 12 to 16 heuds iu height. They must have deep bodies, good feet and those from five to eight years are preferred. On land devoid of humus and in poor physical condition a good application of rnyard manure will be exceedingly valuable. Always start alfalfa in a small way and increase the acreage gradually as desired. Seed some home-grown va- riety, if possible, to secure such a strain. There is very little difference in the va- rieties as commonly sold on the market. Use nothing but the be.t seed. Examine for noxious weeds and especially dodder. —Many leading agriculturists recom- mend plowing under clover, especially on farms that de not carry enough live stock to eat all the hay produced. It is con- sidered one of the feasible ways of ad- ding organic matter to the soil and also enriching it in the element. The nitrogen would be lost when the ground is plowed in the fall, for any soil exposed to the air . : . will lose a portion of its nitrogen, but it —When a seed crop is desired the first crop should be removed and Plants allowed to go to seed. uction of seed depends v largely upon the weather conditions nd Ms the thickness of the plants. The may be mowed and raked the the hay crop, and most of the seed be saved by an ordinary threshing ma- chine. Briefly, this summarizes the more im- portant considerations in starting caring for the alfalfa crop,and is intended to answer the many Sestiops which are constantly being ask: —The Rural New Yorker timely advice: A long Island 2 gives this farmer is | offering “humus” or leaf-mould at $15 to $20 per ton. We understand this is dried swamp muck of good quality. There can doubt that some samples of muck or swamp soil contain considerabl nitrogen than average stable manure, but the muck is sour and this nitrogen is not available. It would be nonsense for a farmer to pay $15 for such “humus” when has old wet on t it with lime and He could make that $15 per ton look like 15 cents | in cost and nearly equal it in value. : § 5 2 iz
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers