ARR
Bema den
Bellefonte, Pa., December 3, 1915,
THE HOUSE BY THE SIDE OF THE
ROAD.
There are hermit soulsthat live withdrawn
In the place of their self-content ; :
There are souls, like stars, that dwell apart,
In a fellowless firmament.
There are pioneer souls that blaze their paths
Where highway never ran—
But let me live by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.
Let me live in a house by the side of the road,
Where the race of men go by—
The men who are good, and the men who are
bad,
As good and as bad as I.
I would not sit in the scorner’s seat,
Or hurl the cynic’s band—
Let melive in a house bythe side of the road,
And be a friend to man.
I see from my house by the side of the road
By the side of the highway of life,
The men who press with the ardor of hope,
The men who are faint with the strife.
But I turn not away from their smiles nor their
tears—
Both parts of an infinite plan—
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.
I know there are brook-gladdened meadows
ahead
And mountains of wearisome height;
That the road passes on through the long
afternoon
And stretches away to the night.
But still I rejoice when the travelers rejoice,
And weep with the strangers that moan,
Nor live in my house by the side of the road
Like a man who dwells alone.
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
Where the race of men go by—
They are good, they are bad, they are weak,
they are strong,
Wise, foolish—so am I.
Then why should I sit in the scorner’s seat
Or hurl the cynic’s band?
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.
—Homer.
HOW DADDY KEPT HIS HIRED MAN.
When Daddy first came to Western
Iowa, the price of land in the Big Sioux
Valley was selling for $1.25 per acre—the
year 1886 I am talking of—when all you
had to do to get a “claim” was to “squat”
on your choice 160 acres for fourteen
months and then “prove up” with Uncle
Sam for $1.25 per. Today this land is
worth $150.00 an acre. Yet in spite of
this jump in the value of this investment
from $1.25 to $150.00 Daddy became dis-
gruntled some few years ago, like many
other farmers, and was about to leave
the old homestead to do “teaming” work
in town for a big fuel and lumber com-
pany. The reason for this was that he
couldn't get help. The hired man could
not be depended upon to “stick” when he
was needed most.
Had Daddy left the farm that day as
he threatened, he wouldn’t have been
worth nickels where now he is worth
dollars. Moreover, if I myself had stay-
ed on the farm instead of taking up the
ministry and the social reform work
in which I am now engaged, my private
office might not have been quite so snug
and my circle of acquaintances not so
wide, but I am positive that I would have
had larger holdings of “the things of this
world.” As] say, it happened some years
ago, and I am relating Daddy’s words to
the best of my memory because I believe
it holds the key to one of the most effect-
ive remedies to the hired man difficulty:
“Well, Josie,”—that was Mother's
name—*“I'm through. This d—d place is
for sale or rent! Every yearit’s the same
old story with the hired man proposition
and it’s getting worse all the time.
They'll leave you with your hay down
and your grain in the open stack. They !
don’t give a d—n if everything rots on
the place. Every year they get more in-
dependent and contemptible. Now, here
my man tells me today that he is going
to quit tonight. 1 tell you, Josie, there is
no use. We'd better sell out or rent and
get some day work in town where we
know what we can count on.”
Then it was that Mother exhibited a
practical foresight and wisdom at which
I marvel more as the years pass and
demonstrate the value of her suggestion.
“Well, John” said Mother, “‘you’d bet-
ter sit down a while and cool off. It's
very hot today and you're all worked up
and excited.” At that she took Daddy
by the arm and led him caressingly out
to the . hammock in the orchard. As I
tagged along behind them that day it
seemed to me that Mother was handling
Daddy just as I imagine she used to be-
fore I was born. They sat down in the
hammock together. Mother took him
by the hand and looked up into his face.
Her eyes flashed with an unusual light,
and I was amazed to observe for the first
time that my mother was really a hand-
some woman. Her face ‘was bronzed
with outdoor toil, it is true, but it now ap-
peared lit with a new radiance.
ual wrinkles were hid in a glow
sembled the soft mel
dian summer. .
“John,” said Mother, “there must be
some reason why hired men will not stay
on the farm. The reasons they give you
for leaving are mere excuses. Have you
really ever tried to get to the bottom of
it and learn the true cause of their dis-
content? It may be something that we
can afford to remedy. Once remedied
we might have no further trouble, Hired
men are human beings with human in.
stincts,
us all. They are influenced and govern-
ed by the same things that influence oth-
er men. Perhaps Frank (that referred
to me) could go out and get the men’s
confidence enough to learn what the ob-
jection is.”
At that I spoke up,
already told me why
seems the night before he had come
home late, or rather early in the small
hours of the morning. He had driven
over twelve miles away to a larger town
than our trading
with some old
that re-
low haze of an In-
for the man had
he was leaving. It
pals of his, and there had
played pool until the room closed at mid-
night. This, with the long drive of
twelve miles, made it about two a. m.
when he got home. The next day of
course he was tired out and Daddy be-
came impatient at his sluggish move- | h
ments and reprimanded him, There-
upon the man got mad and quit.
“There,” said Mother, after] had relat-
ed to them the man’s account of the af-
fair, “now we have a clue to the difficul-
ty. The man, like all men, is a social
being.
his friends.
pastime and recreation to relieve the
monotony of his hard work day in and
day out on the farm. In order to getit,
he drives 24 miles in a night after work- |
ing all day long.”
Then Mother leaned forward, her chin
resting in her hands, her eyes looking
across the landscape apparently scan-
ning the horizon for some time.
made no reply but sat studying Mother's |
face. He seemed to know
Mother presently, “out of sheer hunger
for friendship.”
ing on the horizon. Finally she turned
toward Daddy and spoke more abruptly:
“John, did it ever occur to you it might
be a paying investment to fix up a social
room where our men could have their
recreations at home? Suppose we took
the lower granary for -that purpose.
Suppose we even spent three or
four months’ wages in buying some
games and contraptions that men like as
furniture for this room. Put in a half
dozen chairs, a card table and supply it
with some papers and some sporting
news magazines.” “Nah,” said I, “read-
ing stuff wouldn’t keep him at home.
What he wants is a pair of boxing gloves
and a pool table. Then his friends would
come to see him.”
get him some boxing gloves and a pool
table. The things would last for some
years and their expense would be more
than counterbalanced if we could avoid
this dreadful time that we have every
year to save our crops. Certainly the
men would have more energy left for
work if they were induced to stay home
more. They would retire earlier and get
their rest. And I believe also that they
would appreciate this to the extent that
we might find it to be a good paying in-
vestment in the long run.”
“Sure, Daddy,” I butted in, “get a pool
table and I'll work like a trooper to help
pay for it.”
“Yes,” said Daddy, “I'm afraid your
working like a trooper would be at the
pool table instead of in the fields. You'd
stay up all night playing pool and you
and the man wouldn’t be worth your sait
the next day.”
essarily follow; we could place restric-
tions as to the hours for play, just as we
have to anyhow. Everything has to be
governed by reasonable regulations, even
your horses and cows; and the more I
think about it, the more I am of the opin-
ion that it ought to be given a trial.”
At that Daddy jumped up as if he had
been shot out of a cannon and started off
and the hired man had some words, as a
result of which the hired man stayed
with us from that day until this, or at
least up to the time I last heard from
home. Returning from the barn, Daddy
told me that the hired man had agreed
to stay with us on condition that we fix
up a room according to Mother's pro-
posal, and that the man and I were to
: make over the lower granary for that
purpose. We agreed to work at this in
the evenings after chores.
In two weeks the trick was done, and
not many. days later the room was well
equipped, including my much desired
pool table. We also built a little alcove
leading off from the main room in which
we placed a comfortable bed, a small rug
and a rocking chair. This was to be our
man’s bedroom where he maintains a
little more privacy, quite distinct from
the larger room where he meets his
friends.
And that’s how Daddy kept his hired
man. “All work and no play makes Jack
a dull boy”—and the hired man a quit-
ter.—By F. J. Milnes.
Talking Across the Ocean by Wireless.
Six months ago experts were talking of
the tremendous obstacles in the way of
transmitting the human voice over long
distances by means of wireless. This
seemingly impossible feat has now been
; accomplished, and the accomplishment
has come with startling suddenness. On
September 29, a telephone message was
transmitted from the wireless station at
Arlington, Va., to the navy yard at Mare
Island, near San Francisco, a distance of
2,500 miles. Remarkable as this feat
seemed at the moment, the actual ac-
complishment was found to be tremen-
| dously greater than supposed, when, on
the following day, a cable message was
received from Pearl Harbor, Hawaii,
about 4,800 miles from the source of the
wireless waves, saying that the conversa-
tion had been heard at that point. Sub-
sequently it was found that several other
distant wireless stations, among them
the one at Darien, Panama, had also pick-
ed up the message. Three days later,
when communication was established
| with the Eiffel tower in Paris, the first
wireless telephone message was sent
across the Atlantic. This message was
The us- |
with likes and dislikes similar to!
post in order to meet | Ed
He wants the companionship of | be
He wants some form of Sam:
also picked up at Pearl Harbor, the voice
i at Arlington being thus heard at two
| points about 8,000 miles apart. . A
| hint as to the revolutionary changes like-
ly to be brought about as a result of
| these accomplishments is given in a state-
| ment credited to the secretary of the na-
| vy, in which it is predicted that as soon
; as the new apparatus is perfected it will
i be installed on the ships of the American
! navy, where it is likely in large degree
{ to supplant the wireless telegraph. In
this wireless apparatus, as well as in the
new transcontinental telephone line, a
device known as the incandescent audion
amplifier is an essential part of the equip-
ment.
What is perhaps as striking a feature
as the distance over which the voice was
transmitted in the first test, is the fact
that the message was started from a tel-
. ephone in an office building in New York
city and made the first lap of its long
journey over an ordinary telephone line,
the electrical impulses carried over the
wires being automatically converted into
wireless waves by a transformer at the
Arlington station. Such a combination
of new apparatus opens practically un-
limited possibilities.
An added touch of interest is given to
these various accomplishments through
the fact that they occurred at the same
time as the first successful use of the
long-distance telephone by Thomas A.
ison, an impossible proceeding for the
famous inventor, on account of his deaf-
ness, until the sound amplifier had been
placed in service. At the instant the first
wireless telephone message was being
transmitted to Paris, Mr. Edison was
talking from San Francisco with his
ome in Orange, N. J., and a few mo-
ments later the line at Arlington was
“cut in” with Mr. Edison’s line, and he
was informed of the feat. In his first
talk aeross the continent the inventor
used a line in which were many relics of
the early days of electricity, among them
ing a short stretch of wire over which
uel Morse sent his first telegraphic
message, and another section of wire
used by Alexander Graham Bell in send-
ing his first telephone message.
Daddy |
that Mother |
was thinking and that she had something |
more to say. !
“So he drove twenty-four miles,” said !
Her eyes were still rest-
“Very well,” said Mother, “suppose we :
“No,” said Mother, “that wouldn't nec- |
on a quick pace for the barn. There he |
EE RET
A JOURNEY THROUGH MEXICO AND
SOUTH AMERICA.
[By a former Instructor at the Bellefonte Acad-
emy.]
NEW YORK, November 1, 1915.
{ MR. HUGHES.
Dear Friend:
Although it is as contrary to my own
| desire as to the rules of custom, I am
forced to take this reprehensible means
, of dropping you the line I promised you
| upon completion of my Latin-American
| journey. This action is forced upon me
| by the drayload of notes, photographs
| and material gathered on that trip and
demanding my immediate and exclusive
| attention for a considerable time to come
(if I am to bring any suggestion of pub-
| lishable order out of chos. At the first
| lull in this Augean task I shall hope to
| write you in my own fair hand; mean-
{ while I am going to impose on your well-
| known good nature to the extent of ask-
ing you to accept this as a real letter,
| details of how you and the world have
{ mutually treated each other since our
i parting. News from your part of the
globe will be doubly welcome in that it
| will bring up to date my own informa-
| tion and memories of that section.
| My address will in all probability remain
| as above until I have in press the account
of the past four years’ wandering. There
| I shall always be glad to welcome old
friends, or anyone recommended ‘by old
| friends, and shall always be found at
home on Tuesday and Thursday after-
, noons from one to five, and frequently
on other afternoons and evenings. I
| shall not be availabe any morning ex-
| cept Sundays.
I hope to publish portions of the nar-
rative of the journey just ended, in maga-
zine form during the summer and au-
tumn of 1916 and to have the entire ac-
count issued in book form in the spring
of 1917, probably by the same house
which has published my former ram-
blings. Although you know a certain por-
tion of it, let me bring myself up to date
by a brief resume of the entire journey
in question.
I left Milwaukee, Wis., on September
13th, 1911, worked in railroad and labor
gang in Illinois, Oklahoma and Texas,
and crossed the Mexican border on Oc-
| tober”7th. Train and afoot to Guan-
| ajuato, where I spent twenty days as a
i car-boss in one of the principal gold and
silver mines for the purpose of studying
| the mine peon. After covering the State
of Michoacan and other portions of
Mexicon on foot, I spent some time in
Mexico City. Zapata’s marauders made
inadvisable my planned walk from the
capital to Tehuantepec. Proceeding
there by train, I walked into Guatemala,
covered a considerable portion of that
country by train, and descending near
ly across that country via Tegucigalpa,
the capital, to the port of Amapala, and
sailed for Panama. Sighting Salvador
and touching at Nicaragua and Costa
Rica, I landed at Panama on January
21st, 1912, with the intention of sailing
two days later for South America. Canal
Zone life looked so interesting, however,
that entirely out of personal curiosity I
took and held for five months a position
as Canal Zone policeman.
On June 18th, 1912, I sailed from Colon
to Cartagena, Colombia, with Leo Hays»
an American and until then corporal of
police on the Zone. We ascended the
Magdalena river by boat and to Bogota
by train. Setting out from that city on
August first, we walked by way of the
Quindio pass and the Cauca valley to
Quito, Ecuador, a distance of 844 miles,
There I remained four months to write
up my experiences on the Canal Zone,
while Hays continued his trip alone.
On February +h, 1913, I walked out of
Quito and down the crest of the Andes
through Ecuador and northern Peru to
Cajamarca, and from there on in same
fashion, following always as near as pos-
sible the ancient Quito-Cuzto highway of
the Incas, through all the principal towns
among the high ranges, avoiding always
any approach to the well-traveled coast.
This portion of the journey was made
under difficulties of a bad attack of
omoebic dysentery combined with fever,
and after spending ten days in the native
hospital of Caraz, it was only finally on
June 22nd that I reached Cerro de Pasco
and entered the American Mining hospi-
tal. Failing of cure there also, I descend
ed to Lima and, falling in with good peo-
ple, waszat length able to continue my
journey at the end of August.
Ascending to Morococha and Huancayo
by rail, I walked across to Cuzco, 400
miles. After visiting the remarkable
ruins of Machu Picchu and others of that
region, I took train to Arequipa, return-
ed to cover Lake Titicaca by steamer
and afoot, and on to La Paz. By train
and on foot to Cochabamba from which
city I walked 800 miles across the Chaco
of Bolivia to the Paraguay river, reach-
ing there on February 14th, 1914. De-
scending that stream to Asuncion, I cov-
ered the length of Paraguay by rail and
part of the width by a line under con-
struction. Entering the Argentine far up
in the Territory of Misiones, I descended
by rail and river steamer to Buenos
Aires. There I found the American
Consul-General to be an old friend, and
became for some three months consular
assistant and translator and interpreter
in charge of the “outside work” in the
city of Buenos Aires and vicinity. By
rail I visited all the cities of size in the
Argentine, going as far south as the Rio
Negro on the 41st parallel in northern
Patagonia, and as far north as the sugar-
and to let me know by return mail the!
CGE
the frontier of Honduras, walked entire- snd the majority of the States and prov.
| paying rent.
fields of Tucuman. Walking over the
crest of the Andes and down into Chile,
I visited the length and breadth of the
fertile part of that country, again reach-
ing the 41st parallel south near Puerto
Montt.
Returning to Buenos Aires, I crossed
to Montevideo and visited all parts of
Uruguay by rail, spent some days in one
of her great estancias, and crossing into
Brazil at Rivera on July first, 1914, con-
tinued by rail to Sao Paulo and Rio de
Janeiro, with stops at all cities, colonies
and points of interest. I was on the
point of embarking for the United States
from Rio when the European war stop-
ped temporarily all shipping. At this
juncture I was offered by Mr. R. A. Lin-
ton, a fellow-Michigander with the South
American concession for Edison’s newly
invented “Kinetophone” or “Talking
Moving Pictures,” the position of ad-
vance agent and manager for the tour of
Brazil. With two assistants I covered
every one of the 20 States of Brazil I had
not already visited, playing in 49 dif-
ferent theatres and spending nine months
in constant and intimate contact with all
classes of Brazilians. In journeying in
February, 1915, from Victoria to Bahia on
this tour, I took to the sea for the first
time since entering South America at
Cartagena in June, 1912, although later I
covered several other States north of
Bahia again by land. On May first, 1915,
having turned the “Kinetophone” over
to the one surviving assistant, J ascended
the Amazon by river steamer, touching
at some 20 ports, and landed at Manaos.
From that city I continued by launch on
May 20th up the Rio Branco towards the
frontier of British Guiana, rode horse-
back to the boundary, walked and waded
the 50 miles of flooded and uninhabited
pampa which separates the Brazilian and
Guianese river systems, and taking a dug-
out and Indian paddlers, descended the
cataract-bristling Rupununi and Esse-
quebo rivers for two weeks, arriving in
Georgetown 34 days after leaving Manaos.
I visited French Guiana, covered much of
Dutch Guiana and: returned along the
coast, partly on foot, to Georgetown. I
then ascended, via Trinidad, the Orinoco
to the city of Cuidad Bolivar, tramped
two weeks across the blazing desert and
rock-hills that separate the Orinoco from
the Atlantic, rolled four days in a native
fishing smack to La Guayra, ascended for
ten days in Caracas, the last South Amer-
ican capital, and sailed via Curacao and
Puerto Rico on the last day of August,
reaching Milwaukee four years to an
hour from the time of my departure.
During the 1461-days’ journey I slept
in 571 different spots, or in other words
moved on an average once in every 23%
days. It was not always cheaper than
Besides most of Mexico
and Central America, I visited every
country and colony in South America,
inces of each country. Leaving entirely
out of account innumerable side-trips
and city explorations, I seem roughly to
have walked some 5000 miles, while the
distance covered by other means of loco-
motion is beyond my arithmetic. I
have returned from the journey in fully
as good health, physically, mentally and,
trust, morally, as when Iset out, and
seem to have suffered only one misfor-
tune, seriousand incurable; that of being
four years older than the day I started.
Hoping you are not the same, I am,
: Very truly yours,
HARRY G. FRANCK.
The War's Influence on American Toys.
Political conditions and social changes
have for centuries reflected themselves
in children’s toys and games just as they
have influenced the dress, art, and litera-
ture of nations. It isnot surprising there-
fore that this year the American boy’s
Christmas playthings bear conspicuously
the stamp of Europe’s conflict. A great-
er variety of military and naval toys is
now afforded than ever before, both be-
cause of the status of affairs abroad and
the striking changes in modern warfare
and its instruments of destruction.
There is hardly a new war tool of im-
portance which has not to some degree
furnished a pattern for a childs’ bauble.
A miniature battleship unequipped with
wireless aerials or a complement of fly-
ing boats cannot be called modern. The
air rifle which is without a blunted bay-
onet and a shoulder sling is obviously
not designed for mimic hostilities. A
cannon which fires only one wooden
projectile at a time is at a disadvantage,
for quick-fire and machine guns are now
used in bombarding pasteboard forts and
combating pigmy soldiers. These indi-
viduals have also undergone a radical
change. They have developed into ani-
mated dolls fully attired in field uniforms
and. ‘fitted with haversacks, cartridge
belts, and rifles. They walk about with
military pomp and clatter, instead of re-
maining quietly in the places they are
set.
Thus the toy makers of both the old
world and of America, who are the ord-
nance manufacturers for the youngsters’
military forces, have kept astride with
the Krupp, Scheider, and Bethlehem de-
signers. Regardless of whether battles
are fought from the bomb-proofed
trenches in France, across a parlor floor,
or in a bathtub, the exigencies of war
are met with the latest implements. A
few years ago a boy built his fort with
blocks, inserted pencils in loop-holes to
serve as guns, and provided the “booms”
with his own lungs. The contrast be-
tween the war equipments of that lad
and the boy of today is just as great as
that of the fighting tools used in the
Rebellion and those employed now.
There are elaborate papier-mache fortifi-
cations with disappearing guns that
operate electrically and flash when they
discharge. These may be fitted with toy
radio plants and connected by electric
railways over which troops and muni-
tions can be transported from different
parts of a room. If a boy’s soldiers are
attacking a fort, they have artillery bat-
teries to cover their advance and siege
guns to batter the stronghold.
EIR
Liming an Orchard for Borers.
A Montgomery County, Pa., fruit grow-
er wrote to State Zoologist H. A. Surface,
asking, “Will air slaked lime be injurious
to young trees when put around the
trunk? I wish to use it to keep the
worms away so they will not injure the
trees.” Other persons may need the in-
formation given in the following inter-
esting reply to this letter:
“Air-slaked lime is not injurious to the
trees, yetit does but little good, and,
indeed, is practically useless. I note that
your object is to use it to destroy the
worms, but it will not have such desired
effect. There is only one thing to do
‘with trees that are attacked by worms,
and that is to kill the pests by going
after each one. The borers in apple,
pear and quince trees can be killed by
injecting into the hole of each, with a
spring bottom oil can, a jet of the liquid
known as carbon bisulfid. Then clgse
the hole with clay or grafting wax.
““The borers in peach trees can not be
killed by the carbon bisulfid process for
the reason that their holes are filled with
gum. You should go after peach and
plum borers with a knife, cutting length-
wise of the trunk instead of crosswise.
“The best possible treatment of trees
is to keep the borers from entering them.
Air-slaked lime will not kill the borers
after they are in, neither will it act as
a preventative and keep them from en-
tering. The best preventive I know is
to paint or wash the trunks of the trees
during the summer, beginning about the
middle of June, and using strong lime-
sulphur solution, to which may be added
one-fourth ounce of arsenate of lead for
each gallon of the wash. Make up the
materials as is done for the winter spray
or wash for San Jose scale. Make a sec-
ond application about the last of July,
and a third application about the middie
of September. Just before the first ap-
plication remove the earth from around
the base of the trunks, so that it can be
applied lower down the tree than the
original level of the ground. Then mound
the earth around the trunk after the ap-
plication is made. During the second
and third treatment spray or wash the
liquid over the top of the ground, but do
not remove the mounds around ‘the
trunks. You will find this more efficient
and cheaper than any patent protectors,
or any other means of preventing at-
tacks by borers.”
Woman Ostirch Farmer.
An interesting sketch of Mrs. William
Tracy, who is said to be the only woman
ostrich faimer in the United States.
“Mrs. Tracy keeps about a hundred of
the long-legged birds on an alfalfa ranch
at Buttonwillow, California, not only
taking care of them herself but also
supervising the preparation of their
plumes for the market. It was in 1907
that Mrs. Tracy, reading that only four
per cent of the ostrich feathers used in
this country were of domestic produc-
tion, decided to lay the foundations of
grown chicks from Arizona. They cost
her five hundred dollars, though a simi-
lar pair could now be bought from one
hundred dollars to two hundred dollars,
(and as they weighed three hundred
i pounds apiece the express bill added
| fifty-five dollars to the initial expense.
| But she found little difficulty in rearing
| them in the favorable climate of Kern
| County, the young birds requiring about
| the same care as young chickens ; and as
| the flock increased, the venture became
decidedly profitable.
Mrs. Tracy says that an acre of alfalfa
will keep four birds at an expense of ten
dollars a year each, while the return for
feathers alone is from twenty-five dol-
lars to fifty dollars per bird. Adult birds
are about eight feet high, though the
tallest can stretch themselves to ten feet
when they wish to look particularly im-
posing, and they weigh from three “hun-
dred to four hundred and fifty pounds.
| while standing guard over his mate and
the nest during the forty days of incuba-
tion, he becomes quite docile as soon as
the chicks appear, and is an attentive
husband and devoted father. The eggs
weigh over three pounds and make good
and plenteous omelets for those inclined
to this expensive diet. The chicks weigh
two and three-quarter pounds when
hatched, and grow about a foot a month,
reaching their full height in from six to
eight months. Mrs. Tracy says that she
has found her work both profitable and
pleasant, as the ostrich is not a too-ex-
acting bird and is as entertaining as he
is tall, being full of queer antics, airs and
graces; and that there is lots of fun
watching a brood of the queer-looking,
fast-growing, two-toed chicks, tumbling
about in the bright California sunshine.”
— Woman's Home Companion.
All Breeding Ewes Require Judicious
Winter Feeding.
Breeding ewes when taken from pas-
ture should be placed in quarters having
good ventilation and clean, dry footing.
It is at this period that the ewe should
be fed a ration which will strengthen her
vitality and enable her to overcome the
drain attendant upon nursing the lamb
during the previous year, and to meet
the needs of the developing foetus.
A satisfactory ration for breeding ewes
in use at the Pennsylvania State College
is composed of clover or alfalfa hay in
sufficient quantity to meet the appetite
of the ewe, and corn silage or roots at
the rate of two pounds per head daily.
More than two pounds of either the two
latter feeds is liable to provide too much
succulence, which would prevent the
consumption of enough roughage to meet
the body and fectus requirements, when
roughage is the sole ration.
If clover or similar hay is not available
a grain ration of one-fourth to one-half
pound per head daily should be fed, in
addition to some good timothy hay. A
mixture of equal parts of corn, oats and
bran gives a satisfactory grain ration.
The lamb crop is the important item
to keep in mind in sheep raising. Only
by judicious feeding will the quality of
the lambs be improved, the life of the
ewes prolonged and greater profits as-
sured.
Classed as an Extrahazardous Job.
From the Indianapolis News.
No wonder Jim Mann doesn’t want to
make the Republican committee assign-
ments in the House. As a method of ac-
quiring popularity it must be something
like serving as a judge at a baby show.
-—They are all good enough, but the
WATCHMAN is always the best.
Remove them by hand, and mound the |
earth up over the roots after this is done.
her ranch by importing a pair of well- |
| Though the male bird is rather vicious |
- — ; - "
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN
DAILY THOUGHT.
As ships meet at sea, a moment together, when
words of greeting must be spoken, and then
away into the deep, so men meet in this world;
i and I think we should cross no man’s path with-
| out hailing him, and, if he needs, giving him sup
: plies.—Henry Ward Beecher.
And now you must have a forehead!
The edict has gone forth from the coun-
cils of fashion, and if you are to be coun-
tenanced at all in the fashion world your
forehead—*smooth, full-polished, bright
and high”—must be as visible as your
nose or your chin.
Foreheads have always been consider-
ed good form with old Mother Nature;
she'd never think of asking any one to
get on without that very necessary fea-
ture, but it’s different with the Mother
of Modes—for years she’s been conceal-
‘ing lovely woman’s forehead behind
| bangs and ringlets and fluffs and such.
| Now all of a sudden she’s changed her
{ mind. She’s made allies of the old mas-
ters, and she’s enlisted the hairdressers
{ and between them they’ve brought the
. forehead back to its place of glory.
For the new styles in hairdressing
women are studying the old inasters—
. Gainsborough, whose women owe half
| their beauty to high, marble-white fore-
| heads; the Watteau women, whose “eye-
| brows like aerial bows,” were never con-
i cealed by curls or the fair maids and
‘dames of the directoire period, when
Tortez and other noted painters drew
| just the tiniest scallop of hair down upon
| the forehead, but with the effect of em-
phasizing its whiteness and smoothness,
rather than veiling its beauty.
Love of dainty stitchery and pretty
i handiwork is natural to most women,
! but fashion has turned their energies
| into other channels the last few years,
so that comparatively little needlework
has been done. The increase in outdoor
sports for women has been a factor in
| placing the work basket on the shelf,
; temporarily out of reach of the modern
girl's hands. But the vogue for knitting
has upset the basket in our midst and
girls are taking to stitchery again.
| © Old-fashioned patchwork quilts brought
| up-to-date are engaging the attention
{and the fingers of enthusiastic needle-
| women. Many are the revivals of pat-
| terns like the “log cabin,” “rising sun,”
“sunflower,” “star of Bethlehem,” “sha-
dow block,” but the modern applique
work, couched, seems to be the favorite
| sort.
|" The designs are drawn or stamped on
I to white squares, then the applique pieces
| are basted firmly in place and the edges
| are couched. The couching is done with
{ heavy linen floss sewed down by lighter
[ Yireads. The effect of the work is very
pretty and it looks more elaborate than
it really is. It promises to launder well
after the quilting. Some of the prettiest
quilts have only the white centers quilt-
ed, the diamonds being filled in with a
| pattern of French knots done in colors
| to match the borders.
In some of the quilts the applique
pieces are sewn in place by buttonhole
| stitching around the edge. While this is
more work thai the couching, it is very
| effective, particularly if shaded effects
are used. This is especially brought out
, Where the designs are of fruits and flow-
‘ers that need shading. Artists are de-
i signing patterns for these quilts to meet
| the demands of interior decorators, with
i the result that many interesting period
patterns are appearing. There is an
i Adams quilt, a Louis XV., a Louis XVI,
'a Jacobean, and a number of others.
each instance they are true to the period
and they are very attractive.
: Another odd phase of the fancy-work
| revival is the making of couvre-pieds to
use on the chaise longue. These little
foot quilts are made of delicate colored
isilks or satins, lined with soft white
(plush. They are trimmed on the satin
i side with tiny ribbon or chiffon roses,
{ with quillings of narrow soft creamy lace
| or with gold or silver lace, while the edge
is finished with a wider ruffle of the lace.
The little quilt is made a yard square,
just right in size to throw over one’s feet.
If one wishes the quilt warmer than the
plush seems to make it, it can be inter-
lined with flannel or down. These dainty
little quilts are pretty in a room, and
offer a delightful hint for the gifts one
may make for friends who have homes
in which such trifles are appropriate.
The patchwork quilt idea for nursery
use includes not only the crib quilt, but
cushions for the seats and backs of little
chairs, pads for the bureaus, and is even
worked into screen panels. The applique
patterns used for the nursery include
hollyhocks, sunflowers and roses, and
also groups of Mother Goose folk.
i
{
How to Carve the Turkey—First, in-
sert the fork across the middle of the
breastbone to hold the turkey in place.
Cut the skin between the breast and
thigh, bend the leg over and cut off close
to the body through the joint. Next, cut
down through the wing joint from top to
shoulder. To cut the breast slant from
the front of the breastbone down toward
the wing joint. Next draw the fork from
the breast and divide the leg and wing.
Endeavor to cut straight, thin, uniform
slices. If the company is small, carve
one side of the turkey exclusively.
Tomato Cocktails—Use nice round to-
matoes of rather small size for this dish.
Scald and peel them and scoop out the
seeds and some of the flesh. Chop the’
latter fine with a small cucumber and a
little green pepper or canned pimento.
Moisten witha spoonful of Worcester-
shire sauce, half a teaspoonful of salt
and a little celery seed. Fill the tomatoes
with the mixture and place in the refrige-
rator to become very cold. Serve on
small plates.
Lettuce Sandwiches—Spread bread and
butter sandwiches with a layer of mayon-
naise dressing and a layer of crisp let-
tuce leaves, washed and dried thorough-
ly. Cress also may be used. Trim the
edges with a sharp knife.
Boiled Salad Dressing—One level tea-
spoonful sugar, one heaped teaspoonful
mustard, six tablespoonfuls vinegar. Cup
of cream, half teaspoonful salt, two eggs,
pinch of red pepper. Mix sugar, mustard,
salt, pepper with a little of the cream.
Beat eggs lightly, add them with rest of
cream, stir in carefully the vinegar. Put
bowl in a pan of boiling water, keep stir-
ring till it thickens; do not let it boil, or
it will curdle. Put in an airtight jar and
place in a cool place.
* =——For high class Job Work come to
the WATCHMAN Office.