Democratic watchman. (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1855-1940, September 18, 1914, Image 2

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    Demo atc.
Belletonte, Pa., September 18, 1914.
THE TASK WE LOVE.
Here's to the task we love,
Whatever that task may be,
To till the soil, in shop to toil,
To sail o’er the chartless sea.
For the work seems light and the guerdon
bright,
If to heart and hand ‘tis a sure delight.
Here's to the task we love,
Wherever to lead oyr feet,
Through stress and strife or the simple life,
For still are its victories sweet.
And we'never tire, if our hearts’ desire
Flame in its dross-consuming fire.
Here's to the task we love,
The task God set us to do.
And we shall not pale nor faint nor quail,
And for us there’s no such word as fail.
If we follow, with purpose true,
The creed He writes, and the star He lights
To guide our soul to the distant heights.
— Boston Cooking School Magazine.
HOW BILLY STRONG AND HIS MOTH-
ER CAME TO NITTANY.
(Original)
When this century was still a bouncing
infant, I came to these beautiful Alle-
ghenies, to make a home for my boy
Billy, during his year at Nittany College.
As a rule that sort of doing is supposed
to result in casting a “sissy” on the world.
But no one who looks on Billy’s long,
clean athletic lines of body, and his frank,
rather keen young face would fear that
for him.
We were intimate friends, as well as
mother and son, as so often happens in
this good America of ours, and Billy
knew all the bitter economies and weary
efforts needed to keep us two decently
cared for since John died ten years ago.
And like so many warm-hearted cap-
able American boys, he bent all his little
but growing strength “to help mother.”
And he did too, though many times
our meals were our ancient national
“stand-bye,” good old Indian meal mush,
with plenty of rich cream, contributed
by Billy’s ancient and beloved friend
Jane.
He fed her, cleaned her, milked her
from the time he was ten years old. We
had to sell the horses, of course, but the
gods be thanked there was no mortgage
on the house, and John always kept what
he called his “jewel box” in good repairs,
so it was long before we had to spend
money on that.
As soon, after John was gone out of
our lives, as I could pull myself together,
and understand what life meant for us
two, without him, I explained to our
good, strong Pennsylvania Dutchwoman
and she promptly set about two things,
To teach me capable ways of doing all the
needed service of the house, and to look
for a good position for herself. There
was no trouble about this last, and she
was soon engaged to go to the rectors,
with the understanding that she did not
leave me until I was competent to take
care of the house. Of the care of the
boy there was no question. There were
only seventeen years of difference in age
between us, and I cared for his body
until he could do so himself, in passionate
love of it. John used to say, “if he had
been silly, he could have been jealous,
and he surely never was silly, and always
first with me.”
His will gave me “all property of
whatsoever sort I may die possessed,
with full assurance that my wife will do
what is best for our boy.” Just over the
way from our pasture, on the town pike
leading into the neighboring village, lived
our dear old neighbors, the Quantrells,
and John made old Pa Quantrell his exec-
utor.
He had a large, old fashioned country
“store” with every possible thing that
one could need, within doors, and with-
out.
While John lived, he “squared up”
with Pa Quantrell on the first of every
month, when Billy and I were alone these
bills were of course very small, as I
promptly learned every possible combina-
tion of milk and eggs.
Billy engaged as general utility boy,
during out of school hours, his pay for
the same to go towards the payment of
our bill. .
And dear old Mrs. Quantrell came
over and proposed that I do her sewing
to be paid in the same way.
This worked admirably and we gener-
ally had a small sum due us at the end
of the month which Billy gravely carried
into the village bank and deposited in
what he and the banker solemnly called
his “College Fund.”
Slowly it grew, never, never being
touched, as our expenses came out of
my account, a feeble thing, but alive.
We went to bed as soon as we strug-
gled through Billy’s lessons to save fuel
and light. We rose at daylight for the
same reason and Billy carried in wood
enough for the day, fed Jane, and did all
possible things for my comfort before
going to school,and hurried home to help
just as you would expect John’s son to
do.
Of course he joined the ball team and
became a good “pitcher,” not meeting,
h 'wever, the fate of the one “that goes
o’tenest to the well.”
His dear graceful little body took on
th: long thin lines of coming manhood
ad he stood among the “Upper Ten”
on graduation day at our neighboring
High school.
‘1a flatlv refused to go to College leav-
ing me alone at home.
our Sunday in handing out to each other
all the information each had been able
to acquire on college subjects—expense,
social life, health, athletic and all the
many phases of that wonderful world.
As we solemnly kept a military silence
on the subject, during the week pursuing
our inquiries, each alone, you will see
that our Sundays possessed a charm of
their own, quite unknown to others, in
that somewhat puritanical region where
the sacred day was a bugbear to young-
sters.
The old Quantrells were greatly in-
terested in all this and helped us secret-
ly with much mystery during the week.
Pa Q. helped Billy “because he was the
man of the house,” and Ma Q. helped
“because women have a slim chance in
this world, anyhow.”
Pa Quantrell intended to sell out and
retire and for years he and Ma had dis-
cussed plans for the little house, which
they would need.
So one fine, sunny Sunday morning
near the end of the school year, when
Billy would be graduated from our High
school, Pa Quantrell in his Sunday best
walked over, to our porch where we were
trying to do the impossible “and make
up our minds” ard proposed to buy our
pasture field, and build his house upon
it.
You can imagine our astonishment
and delight.
This made all that we desired possible
to us until Billy said “but what will Jane
do without grass?”
After a solemn silence of a moment or
two, dear old Pa Q. with a twinkle in his
keen gray eyes, said “well Billy she might
as well eat that grass until we begin
building so leave her with us until we do
so. Iwill write you when we need the
land.” :
And so it was settled, otherwise I think
that Billy would have taken Jane to Nit-
tany—and entered her as a freshman.
Next day after our few garments were
airily swinging in the breeze, Ma Quan-
trell came over and said that she “had
about made up her mind not to be hur-
ried about those plans if it was to please
the best man that ever trod shoe leather
and would I rent our house to them until
she and Pa could agree about closets,
porches and other exciting details?”
Of course the dear old souls had work-
ed this up between them to help us, but
equally of course, the new owner of the
store wanted the upper rooms in which
Pa and Ma Quartrell had always lived.
It surely was dear of them and made
me feel as independent as a million-
airess.
So we spent the summer putting away
in our garret such personal treasures as
we did not wish others to use. Ma. Quan-
trell was a dainty old house keeper, and
greatly admired our ancient mahogany,
so we took no thought of that, with one
exception. That was John’s old “high-
boy’’ where I used to keep his linen in
nice order. It was topped by a queer
square shaving glass with a cloudy effect
in the glass.
John’s great grandfather had had it
made by a neighbor “with a gift for car-
pentering,” “fit for long legged fellows
like us.” Billy was always interested in
the pegs used to put it together, nails
being “hand made” at the village forge
and quite too expensive.
It was filled with personal oddments of
John’s kept for Billy.
Ma Quantrell was quite sympathetic
about it, and said “she wanted that place
anyhow, for a little bed, as her only and
idolized grandson, Jeffersoh Davis Quan-
trell was coming to live with them.”
She also insisted on my storing in the
garret my small store of silver ware, and
linen, until we knew where and how we
should live at the college.
It seems to me that if ever people were
possessed of the real article in religion,
those two people had it “good and plenty.”
This matter of a steady cash rent made
possible many small luxuries for Billy and
me, but we solemnly held up our right
hands and promised each other not to
spend until we know what our living ex-
penses at Nittany will be.
Most of the students there “work their
way through college” and Bill fears that
“the ‘other fellows will have all the good
jobs.”
But our banker at home dearly loves
to help people, who want to help them-
selves and he had privately written to
his conferee at Nittany to tell him about
Billy, and I believe, to offer to back us
financially if we should come to grief.
Long after, when the Nittany banker
was our fast friend he told me that our
home banker had said that Billy was a
fine young fellow, in need of afew good
jobs as pot boilers and would Mr. —
see that he got them. And poor old Mr.
——, saw that Billy got them, so Bill had
peace of mind, and when his “exams”
were successfully passed, could keep one
eye on his natural enemies, the Sopho-
mores.
Of course I was afraid of what they
would do to my one and only boy, all
that I have of my own, in the world,
But I held my tongue, with both hands,
fearing to make Billy nervous.
One or two kindly old “Profs.” told me
“that while there is still more horse play
than the college authorities like, the in-
troduction of Student Government has
dominated the worst forms.”
If all the yarns I hear, are even found-
ed on fact, these youngsters must be
more severe with evil doers, than the
Faculty ever were.
To look at them, hundreds of them in
| the streets, many times a day, they are
During his last year in school we spent
anything but severe in expression. Men's
bodies, most of them surmounted by
most youthful faces, but strong, keen
and kindly.
that, with several thousand of them turn-
ed loose and only recently freed from the
autocratic petticoat government of their
homes, there is just one policeman, a
mild and kindly old fellow.
I have never known of his being called
on to make them “behave.” They do it
themselves and it would seem to be the
best possible training for good citizens.
One of our first expenses will be an
uniform, as the two younger classes drill-
ed under an officer and sergeant detailed
here by Uncle Sam. This had much in-
fluence with me, as my boy had the usual
slouch of the mountaineer, as well as the
usual indifference of the countryman, to
neatness in clothing.
All this is a disadvantage to boys of
ordinary height, but when a boy is some
inches over two yards high, carelessness
of that sort hurts him.
Billy went to the tailor and came home
a bit uneasy at the cost.
On the ball field he spoke of this to
on older student, who said he “knew
another fellow, of about Billy's length
who wanted to sell his uniform and he
would take Billy to his digs.”
Billy gladly went and bought the suit
for half the original cost, and better still
commenced a friendship which bids fair
to last all the years of his college life,
This boy told him the Juniors are ex-
officio the friends and advisers of the
Freshmen.
He proceeded, then and there, to give
Billy a few “points” and took him to the
rooms of others, who made him welcome
and proceeded to enlighten him further.
Billy got pink all over his dear boy's face
when he said “it was all strictly con-
fidential, mother dear, and much of it
not best discussed before women.”
Being a fairly wise woman I took the
blow quietly, and faced the inevitable
fact that Billy had entered on his man’s
inheritance and would always, hereafter,
travel farther from me. Whatever the
reason was, he certainly never was in-
jured in body, though sometimes his torn
clothes and weary silence told a tale.
He had to work steadily and hard, as he
is not quick mentally, which seems
strange in a boy whose sprinting looks to
me more like flying.
Next came the important question of
choosing a Fraternity. I have had much
sage advice on the subject, and am still
uncertain as to what is best. We are in
a clean and comfortable boarding house
with a kind and reasonable woman. I
think I will try to arrange with her to
assist in many ways, and so lessen our
debt to her.
Billy is being dined, possibly wined by
students at several Fraternities and is
rather coolly looking them over. How
can such a woman and boy judge prop-
erly. Also I am looking about for oc-
cupation for myself. Perhaps you, wise
reader, (it is not necessary to be gentle)
can suggest something. If only I were a
trained nurse I would like to help at the
new little hospital. Do you suppose they
could make use of a woman, whose only
training has been in “waiting hand and
foot,” on her husband and son.
I am listening for your answer. Billy
wants a “motto” so I gave him “Re-
member, the road on either side is strewn
with opportunities. It is for you to have
the eyes to see them, and the hands to
grab.”
tion of 1908.
In “The Orient Express” Arthur
Moore. F. R. G. S., relates a true inci-
dent of the Young Turks’ revolution of
1908. in which a woman plays a thrill-
ing dramatic part. Herself a revolu-
Bey. she was the wife of Nazim Bey.
the sultan’s principal police spy at Sa-
loniki. whose assassination the com-
mittee of union and progress had de-
cided upon. She did not hesitate to
help the murderer. She left the cur-
tains undrawn where sbe and her hus-
band were dining together and placed
a strong light behind him. Then she
sat waiting tensely. Soon the shot rang
out. But the conspirator had bungled.
Nazim was only wounded. Six weeks
later the miracle of the revolution was
accomplished. and the committee,
clement in their triumph, condemned
Nazim Bey not to death, but to exile.
and would have exalted his wife into a
heroine. But she, to Enver Bey’s as-
tonishment, proposed to go and share
her husband’s lonely exile at Benghazi.
“But, my sister,” said Enver, “it is
unthinkable that you should suffer
such a terrible fate. Moreover, the man
is an infamous spy. who deserves
death. Why should you share his pub-
lc disgrace?”
“He is my husband.” she answered.
“and I love him.”
“You love him! But were you not al-
| ready a consenting and even abetting
party to the death which was intended
. for him?” .
{ “That is true. I was willing that he
- should die for the sake of our cause,
i but as he is to live I shall live with
him. Where he goes I shall go.”
, So together the husband and wife
went to Benghazi.
Side Interests.
“No, I didn’t hire your friend.”
“Why didn’t you? He's an able
man.”
“Well, he’s a health enthusiast. Has
to go out every hour for seventeen in-
halations of ozone, does setting up
exercises four times a day and has
to have a quart of hot water to drink
every fifteen minutes. I fear he would
, have little time for actual business.”—
' Kansas City Journal,
What they are is proved by the fact
Queer Incident of the Turkish Revolu-
tionary and the sister of Major Enver |
FROM INDIA.
By One on Medical Duty in that Far Eastern
, Country. A Country Where Violets Stand the
Sun and Rov When it Rains. A Professional
Visit to Mohammedan Family, and Their Queer
Customs.
JHANSI, AUGUST 8th, 1913.
Dear Home Folk:
We are in a green world now and my
wonder never ceases, to see how fast and
luxuriantly the grass grows and the bush-
es and trees turn green when given such
a little encouragement, for even at this
late date, August 8th, there has been but
little rain in Jhansi; scarcely four inches,
and we ought to have had thirty. But
another queer thing is that our violets,
having stood all the hot weather, seem
to rot when even the cloudy days
come, and what have not rotted are cov-
ered with bugs, so I spend spare mo-
ments picking those nasty little things
off and am hoping, although I am not at
all sure, that a few may be strong enough
to survive and we will have a few little
blue things this fall.
Cholera broke out in the city last week
and this morning a man came for me to
go and see his daughter. He did not
mention his fears, but after I had gone
and found nothing to be afraid of, he
told me he had feared cholera, and I am
wondering how a tontageous disease,
having gotten started, could ever -be
"stopped. :
We drove to one of the near-by ba-
zaars and then were taken through un-
der what looked like a big gate, and
thence into a smaller compound; in fact
not larger than your little plot at the
kitchen door, with buildings enclosing it
on every side, thence into a little dark
room. As it is cool, I did not notice any
particular odor; but here I found seven
women—Mohammedans—in pajamas and
“chudas,” all squatting about the bed of
! my patient, chattering like parrots, and
I wish you could have seen this incon-
gruous group. Ears, nose, etc, all were
loaded with precious metal; the ears so
much so that they are nearly always
pulled double, the upper part being bent
clear down over the lower part. Their
feet were bare and pajamas so dirty I
loathed to touch them—yet these are
clean people.
Never again will the acrobats at home,
who walk and do feats while in squatting
' postures interest me; all India does
everything in that position; from holding
their sewing with their toes, to calmly
moving across the room for a chair and
bringing it back, they remaining in the
‘same squatting posture; or having stood
| up they use their toes to pick up a paper
ior a rag they have dropped. So much
' do they use their feet and toes I some-
| times wonder that they don’t lose the
; use of their hands. One of these women
' pushed a pan under the bed with one
' foot while sitting on the other, and all
sat with hands resting on their ankles
I‘while a servant was sent for a chair in a
| distant room, for me. I did not wish to
I sit down but unless I wish to be ungrate-
ful I must stay for awhile, although
| breakfast is waiting for me. Having
{ found out all that I could, I went out in-
to the court-yard and sat down to talk
! to the men, who are much more intelli-
‘gent and one can reason with them.
| Their wives are but chattels, so one dis-
‘cusses their ills, etc, with various male
units of the community household in
| about the same way as one would their
i dogs or horses, and the women get about
| the same consideration. :
It is a curious character study, these
{ Hindu and Mohammed households, where
| many wives, many children and many
, husbands and relatives, to an almost un-
' countable number, live together and in
i such close relations that I declarel never
know which is the husband, or which the
son. I always have to ask for it is just
as likely to be the brother-in-law or the
father-in-law who comes for you and
sees that your directions are carried out
as it is the husband or father.
Now all these live in a single small
house and so far as I have ever discov-
ered there is no attempt at sanitation,
and all refuse is thrown directly into the
small court-yard, where horses and cat-
tle are often kept.
I got up early this morning to go and
call upon the sick woman, and it is but
seven o'clock and I am back from a two
mile drive. I found that she was quite
all right and ready to smile at me without
fussing, which is a sure sign that she is
better.
am really frank to confess I was rather
ashamed of my behavior, but, they invite
one to help entertain their guests, so I,
having to earn my food, go at it and
hence the above remark. The dinner
was given by a little woman who told me
once that she was called the “biggest
flirt” in Bombay. She is very beautiful,
but there it all ends, and now I think her
husband stays away so much because he
is rather tired of the lack of something
that lasts. I sometimes wonder why
those beautiful women don’t cultivate
brains, even if they don’t really possess
any. I know if I nad beauty I would try
my best to be fascinating and perhaps I
wouldn’t have to talk so furiously, and
make myself otherwise tired trying to
make folks forget how many of the good
Fairies were away on their vacation when
I came into the world. Come to think of
it, perhaps it is well that there are a few
silly people.
I wish you could see a small Moham-
medan girl just here, with her bright yel-
low pajamas with black bands across the
bottom, a bright pink ‘thing over her
I went out to a dinner last night and I’
head and a white jacket fitting closely.
She is about nine years of age and of |
course wears the nose ring of marriage.
My attention was called to this little but-
terfly of color when I came through the
gate, for she was playing gate-keeper,
and I wanted her picture. She is so
pretty and her skin is so fair; truly a
good example of this East, where colors
are so flaunting.
(Continued next week.)
IT WAS A SURPRISE.
The daughter of the household, aged:
eleven, looked up from her book as.
the man caller came into the library.
“How do you do, Mr. Dearmore,”
she said, getting up politely. “You
might as well take a comfortable chair
because sister won't be down for ages.
She is always slow about getting
dressed and I suppose now she’ll be’
slower than ever because she won’t
care if she does keep you waiting.”
“Well, why shouldn’t she care, I'd
like to know?” inquired the caller with
an assumption of surprise designed to
be comic. :
The young person hitched a little
closer to him in her eagerness. “I just
found out!” she told him, “tonight. I
guess they weren't going to tell me,
.but sister was so interested in brush-
ing out her switch that she didn’t no-
tice me and mother said: ‘You might
Jhave done better if you’d more ambi-
tion, but, thank heaven, you're engaged
at last!’ ,And sister said yes, it was
time and she’d have to make the best
of it. Why, she’s engaged! Don’t you
understand ?”’ vn fi
“You surprise me,” said the caller,
with interest.
The young person nodded her head.
“It's awfully exciting to have an en-
gaged person in the family. We never
had one before. I held my hand over
my mouth to keep from asking right
out who it was, but I knew if I spoke
they’d make me go away—and then
all they said was that where the
trooser was coming from if dad didn’t
make a killing goodness only knew.
‘What's a trooser?”
“A sort of feminine delirium, I be-
lizve,” the young man told her.
“Wouldn't you like to read out loud
to me from your book?”
“Not when I can talk,” the young.
person assured him, promptly. “I'd
think it was Bob Samson, only he
hasn’t been here for ages. He's riding
around a ranch out West now and he
always brought me chocolates and
petted the dog and waited hours and
hours for sister. Mother told her one
day for goodness’ sake when she got
her hands on that huge old Samson
house to burn it down and put up an-
other one with a French gray drawing
room, and other things, but I guess
Bob slipped a cog somehow—"
“Er—what ?” .
“Well, Aunt Clara said to mother
that a cog in the wheels must have
slipped somehow and how did he ever
get away and wasn't it a pity! So I
suppose Bob did it. I always liked his
chocolates—he brought me just as
good ones as he brought sister. Some-
times they try to pass off cheap candy
on me, but I know! Then I feed it to
the dog.
“Im glad it wasn’t that Siddens
man. “He always called me ‘little one’
and patted my head and he had bron-
chitis and always coughed before he
spoke, and sister said she didn’t care
if he was rich, but she couldn’t endure
a man who wore brown ties and ate
grapefruit with a fork and anyhow he
gave her the shivers. That was the
time mother scolded so and sister
went to Aunt Clara’s for 4 month.
“Im surprised at her getting en-
gaged, because she’ll have to have a
house and meals then and she says
picking out things to eat is simply
awful and she wouldn’t wear her life
away keeping down the grocery bills
for any man and he might as well
make up his mind to it. Anyhow, sis-
ter never loses her head, because
mother says so, and she’ll make him
toe the mark. Mother says that with
her sweet smile sister could make a
man believe white was black, but that
seems foolish. Wouldn't you know
black if you saw it?”
“I used to think I was able to dis-
tinguish colors,” admitted the caller.
“But you're different,” said the
young person. “It isn’t as though you
were one of sister's trailers—that’s
what dad calls ’em. It doesn’t make
any difference to you. - Only I thought
if I told you about it you'd understand
why she didn’t hurry to get down
here, now she’s interested in one par-
ticular man.”
“Well,” said the -:muller, “I'll tell you
a secret. I'm the particular man!”
The young person's eyes bulged.
“Honest?” she squealed. “Why, I was
never so sur-r-p-prised in my Il-l-life!
And you never petted the dog once!
My, but you're quiet!”
A Muscular Christian.
Archdeacon Hudson Stuck, who
climbed Mount McKinley, or, as he
insists it should be termed, the Mc-
Kinley peak of Mount Denall, came.
from England, and after a residence
in Texas spent eight or nine years
in Alaska as archdeacon of the Yukon,
helping Bishop Rowe in his remark-
able missionary labors. He has trav-
eled thousands of miles in Alaska on
foot or by dog-sled, usually with only
an Indian boy as a companion, thread-
ing dangerous passes in the depth of
the bitter winter of the Arctic circle,
and at times while on his rounds
camping at night on icy slopes with
the thermometer at 70 degrees below
zero. He has been not merely spirit-
ual counselor and teacher, but also
friend, helper and physician to white
miners and Indian hunters.—Woman'’s
Home Companion.
——Have your Job Work done here.
: FARM NOTES.
: =—The farmers’ institute work is all
| done before the public, it is always on
i trial. This makes the work more diffi-
! cult, but helps to keep it on a high plane.
—As lime contains none of the ele-
‘ ments of a complete fertilizer, the appli-
i cation of it alone, for building up a soil,
, must result in exhaustion of fertilizing
! elements.
—Never use force to remove a calf
from a cow unless you are sure that the
cali is in the right position. Undue force
used when the calf is in some positions
will result in severe laceration and tear-
ing of the cow and might result in death
of the latter.
—A sow of quiet disposition and good
{ milking qualities is essential to success-
ful hog-growing. Sows that are good
sucklers are as rare as good milk cows.
When the experienced breeder gets one,
she is seldom for sale. Such a sow isa
more valuable asset to the farmer than
a fattening steer, so far as profit is con-
cerned.
—There is no better way to make a
horse mad than to strike it with a fork
+r broom handle to make it move when
in the stable. A good horseman will
stand slightly back and speak to the ani-
mal. A good horseman will not habitually
speak sharp and harsh to his animal,
and he will never leave him in the street
‘ unhitched or unattended.
~—Inflammation of the udder in cows is
often infectious and may be carried from
the affected to healthy members of the
herd on the hands of the milkers. A
good practice to follow is to segregate
any animal showing disease of the udder
until - it has. recovered.. The milker
should wash and disinfect his hands
after milking such a cow.
_—The way to find out what a cow
likes best is to watch herslick up the last
of a good feed, and when she licks off
her nose and draws a long breath and
seems to say “Have you anything bet-
ter?” just give a handful of any one kind
of meal, and thus go through the bill of
fare, and she will soon decide for you
what is best suited to her.
—It is a mistake to bury stable manure
deeply. One of its chief values is the
fact that it seeds your soil with bacteria
that will render plant food already con-
tained there inavailable. But these little
workers have to have air, and if the ma-
nure is buried deeply this needful ele-
ment is shut off from them. Break the
land first if possible and then harrow
the manure into the surface.
—The experience is general that too
much corn and too little exercise are the
twin evils responsible for 90 per cent. of
the bad luck during the farrowing sea-
son. Too much fat makes the sow in-
active, the pigstend to come weak and
poorly developed, and the sow is likely
to be nervous and irritable in temper
and prone to the pig-eating habit. Fur-
thermore, it results in deficient milk sup-
ply and an uneven growth in the pigs.
—In an experiment at an agricultural
college in Scotland, the bacterial content
of the milk was materially lessened by
grooming and washing the udder. In
another test it was determined that feed-
ing and grooming cows, or the removal
of manure from the barn during the time
of milking, greatly increased the bacterial
content of the air and hence that of the
milk. Immediate cooling of milk to the
temperature of the air greatly retarded
bacterial growth.
—There are entirely too many horse
owners and drivers who do not know
how to treat an animal. A horse is a
most intelligent animal, and often uses
more common sense than does its driver.
The other day the writer saw a driver
cruelly strike a horse because it stum-
bled. An animal will not fall if it can
help it. Instead of beating the horse, a
humane driver will look for the cause.
Quite frequently it is due to a stone be-
nine wedged between the frog and the
shoe.
Whipping a horse because he happens
to shy is the very worst thing that could
be done. It teaches the animal that a
whipping is associated with the object he
got frightened at, and he becomes a
worse shyer than before.
The word “whoa” is very often mis-
used. It should mean only one thing,
and that is to stop. Stablemen so often
use it as they approach the horse in the
stall, or when they lift up its tail to crop-
per it, or when they put the bit into the
animal’s mouth. It would be better in
such cases to use the word “steady,” so
as not to have a confusion of the mean-
ing of the word.
—To violently drive or ride a horse im-
mediately after starting is distinctly in-
jurious. Race horses are always gradu-
ally exercised before they are placed in
therace. The use of spurs in riding is
often attended with cruelty. Men who
would not allow themselves to be forced
by any boss will use tactics on the faith-
ful horse. It is no wonder that horses
often rebel. Hanging on by the reins to
retain one’s position in the saddle is
wrong, and so is the use of dirty collars
or harness. Keeping on the shoes too °
long is false economy, besides and in-
justice. .
One of the biggest pieces of thought-
lessness that could be impaired is to
drive single-harness horses in a hilly
country without breeching. In such
cases the animal cannot utilize the
weight or strength in its quarters to as-
sist in holding back, and the slightest
stumble will cause the entire weight to
be suddenly thrown upon the withers and
forelegs and does not give the horse a
chance to recover himself. - The action of
the weight of the trap on the dock by the
crupper is a life long one.
The heavier the load and the steeper
the hill the greater is the lifting, practic-
ally taking the horse by the “neck and
crop” and trying to pitch him head fore-
most down hill. This lifting power is ac-
centuated by the fact that the weight on
the forefeet of the horse going down hill
is heavier than on the hind ones (vice
versa in going up hill,) thus adding con-
siderably to the likelihood of accident.
To hitch a good, slow horse with a
good, fast one is harmful to both ani-
mals. Using cruel bits to prevent bolting
should not be tolerated. Qverloading a
team is a matter that should be stopped
by the police.
Some men in starting a horse are not
content to makea “clicking” noise, which
the animal knows is a command to go
ahead, but they must use the whip.
Some drivers will see that the horses
are well clothed while in the stable, and
will allow them to stand shivering for
hours outside (while they are indoors,)
unprotected by loin cloths.
utting the hairs out of the ears of
animals is to remove a protection that
Nature gives from the obstruction of for-
eign substances and insects.