; '
: Belletonte, Pa., March 2, 1917.
EE ————————————S——
© THE KNITTERS.
One day I chanced to happen in
Upon a fine hotel,
A very goodly company
Within its walls did dwell.
I saw them playing on the links
And on the putting green;
The girls in coats of many hues,
It was a pretty scene.
A sound of music filled the air;
Unto the porch I went,
And then I saw the women all
Upon some work intent.
Hach in her lap a work-bag held,
All filled with colored wool,
And now and then from out it came
A paper with some rule.
And everywhere, indoors and out,
I saw the women sitting;
1 asked what ’twas engrossed them 50;
The answer came, ‘they're knitting.”
They knit all through the morning hours
And scarcely stop for tea,
And even in the dining-room
Their needies oft you'll see.
At evening, when the ballroom’s gay,
Around the wall they sit,
And while the merry dance goes on
They knit and kniit and knit.
And even at their games of bridge
(Now this I call quite funny),
They keep their work-bags close at hand
To knit while one is “dummy”.
And when unto their rooms they go,
If you could only peep,
I haven't doubt you'd find
Them knitting in their sleep.
They chatter, chatter as they knit,
While seams they bind together,
And guests may come and guests may go,
But they knit on forever.
B.S WwW. 8,
“FASTER - THAN THE FASTEST
PONY.”
Sunday morning, June 25, 1876,—
the centennial year,—broke brilliant
and cloudless over the Bighorn Range
and all the adjacent Indian hunting-
grounds. If ever the heavens spoke
of peace and good-will toward men,
it was here and on this perfect day.
Away to the east, along the Atlan-
tic seaboard, the church-bells were
calling to early worship. Here, half-
way across the continent, with Cloud
Peak towering, a dazzling white sen-
tinel, over miles upon miles of glor-
ious landscape, there reigned impres-
sive Sabbath silence.
It was barely five o’clock—‘“moun-
tain time.” It was still deep shadow
among the cotton-woods in the wind-
ing ravine, where a dozen browned-
faced, bearded men stood eagerly
watching the movements of two of
their number, who, following a half-
breed scout, were slowly, cautiously
nearing the crest of the eastward
bridge. The arms and accoutrements,
not the dress, the saddled horses
grouped in the shelter of the sandy
stream-bed and guarded by other doz-
ens, told that there was a scouting
party of United States cavalry. The
fact that not a whiff of camp-fire
smoke could be seen, although the
night had been spent here in a biv-
ouac, that they were inthe heart of a
savage enemy’s country, where the
faintest error would betray them.
When one young trooper broke into
a nervous chuckling laugh, the lieu-
tenant left in command turned sharp-
ly upon him, with the order, low and
stern:
“Shut up, there!”
Men use terse language on an In-
dian campaign.
Presently the half-breed reached a
point wt nce he could see the wide-
spreading country beyond the ridge,
and lay there prone. Then the two
followers crept up on line with him,
and bareheaded, unslung their field-
glasses. Then from a swale, or hol-
low, midway, there suddenly appeared
a little line of slouch-hats and flannel-
shirted backs, as a supporting squad
of troopers ran forward a dozen rods
or so, then as suddenly halted, knelt
and waited.
And then, without moving the glass
from his eyes, the elder of the two of-
ficers, after long survey, drawled in
disgust:
“Not a blessed thing in sight.”
But the younger, laying a hand on
his senior’s arm, then pointing far to
the Sopin-eans, answered:
“ 5
“It” was the broad trail from the
Red Cloud Reservation, near the
south-east corner of Wyoming, along
which, by hundreds, the young braves
of the Ogalalla, Brule and Minnecon-
jou bands had for weeks been flock-
ing to the support of crafty old Sit-
ting Bull in the far northwest. And
“it” was what a veteran cavalry regi-
ment had been called up from Kansas’
and sent by General Sheridan to find. |
When they had found “it” they were
to “break up the business.” Other
veteran regiments under General
Cook were hunting for Sitting Bull
along the northeast base of the Big-
horn, others still, under General Ter-
ry, were marching to hem him in
from the northeast, and yet another
column, under General Gibbon, was
closing in from the west.
It was a powerful combination in
point of numbers. It might have suc-
ceeded—but for one fatal move.
“Well, there’ll be no more joining
S. B. by this route,” said the younger
officer, turning and pointing straight
to south, where, long miles away, a
dust-cloud was rising over the divides
and ravines. “Yonder comes the reg-
iment!”
“I know,” was the answer, as the
elder turned and gazed thoughtfully
away north-westward over interven-
ing miles of silence to where the
wooded crests of the Cheetish barred
the horizon, “but I wish we knew
what was going on up there—today.”
Not until nearly fourteen days
thereafter did we know, when, with
his face pale with grief, our chief
scout and trusted friend, “Buffalo
Bill,” startled the drowsy camp with
the direful news: “Custer and half
the Seventh Cavalry wiped out.”
For that beautiful, peaceful Sab-
bath was the fatal day—and Custer’s
the fatal move.
All the nation knows the story now,
although not until the morning of Ju-
ly 5th was it flashed by wire all over
the land. In profound ignorance of
what had happened were the govern-
ment, the press, the bereaved sister-
hood at Fort Lincoln, praying for the
safety of loved ones who had been
stripped, scalped, mutilated long days
before. Not until the Far West, her
decks laden with wounded, reached
! Bismarck at dawn of the 5th, had an
inkling of the truth reached the peo-
ple of the States.
Yet as far east as St. Paul and
Minneapolis the Indians knew, and
one old Mendota Sioux had told his
staunch friend, the adjutant at Fort
Snelling, who for the first time declar-
ed his informant a dreamer—or a liar.
He was stunned three days later to
find it all true. The marvelous sys-
tem of signals by which the Indians
rushed important tidings—sun flash-
es or smokes by day and fires by
night—had done it all.
The incident is recorded and vouch-
ed for in the army text-book, Colonel
Wagner's “Service of Security and In-
formation.” But here is Colonel Rod-
man’s own story of the affair, told
me the first long years ago, and re-
peated in writing for me only a few
months before his lamented death.
“Blind” was the pathetic name the
old Indian bore, and blind he was, and
for that reason, perhaps, more de-
pendent than his fellows upon pale-
face friendship. They lived at Men-
dota, a large band of Sioux, peaceable
since the lesSon given them in 1862,
but doubtless sympathetic with their
savage tribesmen on the far frontier.
Blind had learned that food and kind-
ness and welcome ever awaited him
over at the fort.
Blind had gradually attached him-
self especially to the adjutant, and
from having been first led to the ad-
jutant’s quarter, had taken to groping
his way hither, unled, unbidden, yet
ever made welcome. Time and again
did Rodman find the grateful Indian
squatting in a certain corner of the
little army parlor, patiently awaiting
the coming of his friend and the
cheery greeting, “How, Kolah!” Rod-
man had even learned to talk a little
in the Sioux tongue, and to supple-
ment this with some practice in their
wonderful sign-language.
This day, Monday, July 3rd, he had
not thought of Blind’s coming, for
only two days before he had seen him
safely across the south shore of the
Minnesota,—The St. Peter of terri-
torial days, and with him went a
stout bag of bread, beef and coffee,
and sugar in abundance, enough to
keep the old fellow in comfort until
mid-week. Yet here he was again,
and two hours earlier than usual, and
what was odd indeed in any Indian,
quivering from intense excitement.
Rodman’s first thought was that
Blind had met foul play—had been
robbed of his treasures. But Indians
do not rob their own people. They
have not yet achieved all the customs
of civilization. Before the adjutant
could question the old son of a Sioux
chieftain startled him with his ab-
rupt announcement.
Speaking hurriedly, dramatically,
in his native tongue, using as far as
possible only those words he knew his
‘friend could understand, but accompa-
nying every other with an expressive
sign, Blind burst §mpetuously into his
tale:
“Heap battle—heap Sioux—heap
soldiers—heap many sleeps (nights
between marching days) up Elk Riv-
er (the Sioux name for the Yellow-
stone) and Greasy Grass (the Little!
Bighorn)—fight two days—heap sol- |
diers—plenty white chiefs killed. In-
dians all know, Indians dancing,
singing now (pointing to where Men-
dota lay, perhaps two miles straight-
away South.) More soldiers going—
more battle soon—any day!” And
here hé ceased, fairly shaking from
emotion.
Now an officer of Rodman’s own
regiment had gone with Terry’s own
column, commanding two fieldpieces,
vet such was Rodman’s incredulity
that he thought only of how to soothe
the old Indian. This took all of his
persuasive powers, for Blind made it
clear that he feared there would be
an outbreak among his fellows at
Mendota; whereat Rodman only smil-
ed, and finally sent him home.
But on the awful morning of Wed-
nesday, when the telegraph broke the
news, and the “extras” down from
Minneapolis and up from St. Paul
later gave the official details of the
tragic death of so many well-known
and beloved comrades,—the army was
smaller, then,—old Blind was sent for
and told to repeat his story, and then
asked this question:
“How on earth could all this have
reached you Indians at Mendota for-
ty-eight hours before the telegraph
could tell us?”
And Blind answered, “Indians have
no lightning string. Indians use In-
dian runner, mirror flash, fire arrow
—fire and smoke. Indian tell that
Sore faster than the fastest pony.”—
x
Huge Commercial Orchard Planned
at State College.
State College, Pa., Feb. 28 —A six-
ty acre fruit farm with the complete
equipment of a commercial orchard is
planned for the department of horti-
culture at the Pennsylvania State Col-
lege. The new orchard, supplement-
ing the present experimental tracts, is
to be established to enable students in
the various horticultural courses to
obtain practical instruction in medern
methods of fruit growing.
According to the plans of Dr. S. W.
Fletcher, head of the Horticultural de-
partment, the State College orchard
will be planted to apple, peach, pear,
plum and other tree fruits. Small
fruits, strawberries, raspberries and
grapes will also be planted. A large
packing house is to be part of the
equipment.
Glee Club to Make Records.
State College, Pa.—The male quar-
tet of the Pennsylvania State College
Glee club has arranged with the Edi-
son Phonograph company to sing se-
lections for several records. C.
Robinson, Penn State’s musical di-
rector, will have his club sing for the
records while they are in New York
city for the annual Intercollegiate
Glee Club Contest, March 3.
——If you find it in the “Watch-
man” it’s true. :
The History of a Great Invention.
The history of inventions
prodigies of trust, faith, hope, per-|cal history into a three hours’ per- |
severance and toil.
Mr. George Westinghouse,
Pageantry, a Civic Pastime.
I
] which | The South Bend pageant condensed | -~
have blessed the world is replete with | 240 years of intensely interesting lo- |
formance. It lent itself wonderfully
the | to dramatic presentation and had all
famous inventor, recently gave the |the elements of a fascinating historic-
history of his air brake for railways. ' al novel. All of the characters of the ;
i FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
DAILY THOUGHT
a contest of which
| woman did not sit at the springs, so is
! she the source of all super-human efforts
i exhibited by men.—George Meredith.
There is nothing better for clean-
i There never was
It has been my privilege frequently | early priests and missionaries were | ing shiny serge than ammonia if used
to visit the great manufacturing plant | taken by the faculty and
of the Westinghouse Company and see | body of the great University
the wonderful processes of manufac- | Dame.
ture of many devices and inventions
of modern times. *
i
student
of Notre
Five hundred Indians from
the Order of Red Men of Mishawaka
and South Bend, led by a score of real
Mr. Westinghouse said that his first | Sioux warriors from South Dakota,
idea of a braking apparatus to be ap- | staged a thrilling fight of 1676 be-
plied to all the cars of a train came ' tween the Iroquois and Miamis, tra-
in this way. He was traveling be- ditional enemies.
Ladies from the
tween Schenectady and Troy in 1866, | auxiliary Order of Pocahontas dressed
and was delayed for two hours as a'!and painted as squaws,
and the
result of a collision between two |youngsters became Indian children.
freight trains.
the inconvenience suggested to Mr.
Westinghouse that if the engineers of
those trains had had some means of
applying breaks to all of the wheels
of their trains, the accident might
have been avoided and the time of the
passengers saved. His first idea was
to connect the brake levers of each
car to its draft-gear, so that an ap-
plication of the brakes to the locomo-
tive would thereby apply a braking
force through the couplers and levers
to the wheels of each car. There
was a chain brake used at that time
by a railway, and Mr. Westinghouse
was advised by the inventor to give
up the idea, telling him that nothing
better could be invented. But Mr.
Westinghouse would not be discour-
aged and was more determined than
ever to carry his ideas through. He
was a young man at this time, work-
ing in his father’s shops. He sub-
scribed for a monthly paper of first-
class Testing in which he read an ac-
count of the tunneling of Mount
Cenis by machinery driven by com-
pressed air, which was conveyed
through 3,000 feet of pipes. This was
the depth of the tunnel at that time.
This account of the use of compressed
air suggested to the mind of the
young mechanic that his break appa-
ratus could be operated by means of
compressed air. He immediately pre-
pared the drawings of his invention.
In 1867 he filed a caveat in the United
States Patent Office to protect his in-
vention. In the meantime the young
man moved from Schenectady to Pitts-
burgh. He had no money to finance
‘the proposition, but he found a man
who was willing to defray the cost of
constructing the apparatus necessary
to make a demonstration.
The trial apparatus was ready in
the summer of 1868. Officials of the
Pennsylvania and Panhandle rail-
ness the operation. One superinten-
dent offered to have the apparatus
placed on one of his trains so the ap-
pliance was moved from the shop and
connected with a train made up of a
locomotive and four cars.
Upon the first run of this train, the
engineer, on emerging from the tun-
nel near the Union Station in Pitts-
burgh, saw a horse and wagon stand-
ing upon the track. The instantane- |
ous application of the air brakes pre-
vented what might have been a ser-
ious accident, and the value of this
wonderful invention was proved.
The air brake started from this
moment on a successful ‘career, and
has been a great blessing to mankind.
By its use many thousands of lives
and much valuable property have been
saved.
Mr. Westinghouse has added great
improvements, year after year, until
now an immense train of 100 steel
cars, heavy loaded, can be taken over
the highest mountain, and safely
handled by the automatic air brakes.
A diplomat in Washington, D. C.,
in speaking before the International
Congress, said that he felt safe in
saying that the air brake had saved
more lives than any general had evep
lost in a great battle—Ex.
Bird Life in Alaska.
Persons with a fancy for ornitholo-
gy may be interested in the fact that
Alaska has few birds in winter aside
from grouse and the innumerable
flocks of ptarmigan to be found
throughout the Territory. These lat-
ter are numerous at all seasons, but
are to be found only at high altitudes
in summer. Geese are to be seen by
the million from late June to October,
but seldom later. Ducks are fully as
plentiful, but with the coming of fall
they also migrate South. For some
reason an occasional duck winters in
Alaska, but a goose never. Most of
the birds which nest north of the Cir-
cle spend the rest of the year in South
America, some, like the Alaska night-
hawk, going so far as the Argentine,
while the tern is not satisfied until he
reaches the Antartic regions. This
means that most Alaska birds travel
annually, coming and going, from
14,000 to 20,000 miles, not counting
the distance covered in side trips for
food and other purposes while on the
way. From the middle of May until
the first of July the birds return to
Alaska in countless myriads, those
which travel both day and night ar-
riving first, while the observers of
union hours who fly exclusively on
either day or night shifts, come strag-
gling in a few weeks later.
Spark From Man’s Body Causes
Garage Fire.
When a resident of Dubuque, Iowa,
wearing a fur coat, and rubber boots,
walked hurriedly to his garage .on a
cold morning recently, he did not
realize that his movements wer: stor-
ing up a dangerous amount of elec-
tricity in his body. But the fact was
that the friction of his arms against
the coat caused a certain amount of
static electricity to be generated, and
this was stored in the man’s body be-
cause it was insulated from the
ground by his rubber boots. When he
sought to prime the motor of his car
with a mixture of gasoline and ether,
using a metal squirt can—probably of
copper, which is a good conductor of
electric current—the can was brought
C.|so close to the motor that a spark was
produced between it and the priming
cup, igniting the gasoline. The can
exploded, throwing the flaming liquid
over both man and car. The man es-
caped with severe burns, but the car
and garage were completely destroy-
ed—From the March Popular Mechan-
ics Magazine. ;
The loss of time and | All other episodes were staged
by lo-
cal clubs, military, societies, schools,
lodges and individuals. Five make-
up artists from the Chicago Grand
Opera company transformed the pale
faces into the aborigines of the for-
est.
In the wealth of scene and story
nothing gave a more powerful tug-
ging at the heart-strings than the
prologue which just preceded the
great fight, “Father Marquette pass-
es on his last journey, 1675.” The in-
trepid missionary with the hand of
Death upon him, was making his pain-
ful way through the wilderness, lean-
ing heavily on a guide, with two com-
panions following, carrying his ca-
noe. They stop to rest, then pursue
their slow journey to the landing, fol-
lowed by the searchlights, while the
band intoned the mournfully pathet-
ic “Angelus” of Massenet. Marquette, :
: then
in his 38th year, died a few
weeks later near St. Joseph, while
trying to reach his headquarters at
St. Ignace, Upper Michigan.
Another scene of the mournful
splendor was “The departure of the’
Pottawatomies, 1840,” where, after
the United States government had
sold their lands, they were driven out |
to the Southwest by United States.
troops. Rounded up by the soldiers
and led by Father Badin, with cruci- |
fix raised aloft, the whole tribe with
bowed heads and broken hearts slow-
ly took their departure in seemingly
countless numbers. The gorgeous-
ness of Indian costumes, from chiefs
who led, to the squaws bringing up
the rear, presented a scene of aborig-
inal tribal splendor never equaled in
American pageantry. Under the won-
derful effects of search and spotlights
they disappeared in the far distance.
Their camp fires which flickered on
the great field of woods and shore
i : il- | died out, and we came back to earth
roads were invited to inspect and wit- |
again to realize that it was not fic-
tion but a cruel injustice in our last
century’s history. And then on
down through the 19th century the |
episodes marched, showing the first
settlements, the burning and rebuild-
ing of Mishawaka, the growth and
development of the two cities, with a
wealth of local incidents and celebri-
ties, bringing the story down to the
present.
One of the most significant fea-
tures in the South Bend celebration,
in addition to the folk dances of all
nations at the daily band concert on ;
"the court-house plaza, was the pa-
geant of nations. In this 15 nation-
alities participated—French, Eng-
lish, Irish, Dutch, Belgians, Scotch,
colored, Danish, Italians, Russians,
Swedes, Germans, Filipinos, Hungar-
ians, and Polish. While the band
played their national airs in turn,
they marched by Miss Columbia,
guarded by the Army and Navy, de-
posited their native country’s flag,
took up the Stars and Stripes and
marched on singing “My Country,
tis of Thee.” It was a polyglot
transformation sermon that thrilled.
—March “Popular Mechanics.”
Accessories to a Gentleman’s Dress.
Before winding up their affairs the
tailors, at a convention in Philadel-
phia recently, handed out some ad-
vice on ornaments. The man who
wears gold ornaments is only giving
expression to his vulgarity, according
to fashion molders. The real thing
nowadays is platinum. Pearls also
are in vogue. For evening dress,
studs and cuff links are the proper
thing, or they may be of platinum
with pearl trimmings. For business
dress scarfpins are outcasts. Their
use is no longer indorsed by the tai-
lors. It’s the height of vulgarity to
wear a scarfpin with a soft collar,
they assert.
Philadelphia has long been recog-
nized as one of the fashion centres of
the country, according to Thomas
Fern, who maintains an elaborate
merchant tailoring establishment at
No. 1307 Waltun street. :
“The men of this city are as well
dressed as any city in the world,” said
Mr. Fern. “In fact, Philadelphia is
looked upon as being one of the few
style centres of the American conti-
nent.”
A trench coat, planned and execut-
ed by Mr. Fern, attracted considerable
attention at the show of the tailors’
convention. This garment was pro-
nounced the finest of its kind on ex-
hibition. The coat was made of Ox-
ford gray cloth. Great lapels and a
deep collar gave it a military air. It
has a belt back, and the skirt hangs
freely from the hips. Mr. Fern also
exhibited a dress suit, a tuxedo and a
double-breasted sack suit. :
Like other tailors at the conven-
tion, Mr. Fern predicted higher prices
for clothing during the coming spring
and summer. The increase will be
due to the scarcity of wool and linen.
Since Belgium was overrun by the
Germans, said Mr. Fern, the linen in-
dustry in that country has been prac-
tically at a standstill. The same con-
dition is true of Ireland, he continued.
The linen business also was hard hit
by Russia entering the war, said Mr.
Fern. Russia, he said, raises a great
amount of flax, but with the begin-
ning of hostilities the industry was
paralyzed.
———With 700,000,000 tons of lignite
coal in the soil, North Dakota is not
experiencing any fuel shortage. Lig-
nite, which is now used almost exclu-
sively for domestic, commercial and
industrial purposes in Central and
Western North Dakota, sells from $1
at the mine, in carload lots, to $3 the
ton, placed in the individual consum-
er’s bin, a ton at a time,
{in the right way. First brush the
i clothes well; then take a lump of am-
! monia, which can be procured from
i the druggist, and pour one pint of
| boiling water on it. Then take an old
| stocking (this is better than anything
! else, dip it in the ammonia water and
rub it backward and forward on any
! part of the suit which is greasy or
i shiny. Then wash off with clean, hot
! water, using a brush. The suit should
| then be hung out to dry in the shade.
' When ironing use hot, but not boiling,
, water to wet the cloth. Lay it on the
i suit and press with a hot iron until
dry. Then wet the cloth again and
"iron lightly the second time. Do not
dry the cloth when ironing the second
| time, as it is this treatment which
i gives it the dull, new finish. Be very
careful to brush out the whole of the
ammonia water before drying. Bot-
tled ammonia is not strong enough to
clean the suit properly.”
You women who live in the country
will find that a can or two of paint
and a bolt of pretty chintz will do
much to transform your porch furni-
ture. If you have no comfortable
chairs for piazza use, do buy one or
two. They need not be expensive
pieces, but be sure they are comforta-
ble and have pretty lines.
The wicker or reed furniture is re-
ally the most attractive for verandas,
‘and it is not at all expensive.
You need not worry if you have two
or three pieces of one kind and a
couple of pieces of another variety.
After you have given them all a coat
of the same paint and made chintz
cushioned seats and backs for them,
they will look enough alike to fool
any casual eye. Besides, no one ex-
‘ pects rigid formality in porch deco-
rations.
If your house is white or gray you
will find that green porch furniture
will look best. Give all the chairs,
tables and settees a coat of green
enamel paint. The chintz for green
furniture should contrast with it, and
a figure with a good deal of red in it
will be found most effective.
It may be wisest to have a cheap
upholsterer make the seat cushions
and backs if you are afraid to tackle
so tricky a job. Have them made
with some white goods as a cover.
Then you can yourself make slip cov-
ers of the chintz for them. The rea-
| son why it is better not to have the
| chintz put right on as the first cover
of the cushions is because it may soil
very quickly, being where the street
dust can easily reach it. If the chintz
is made into slip covers they can be
removed and washed when soiled.
If your house is any other color ex-
cept white or gray, brown porch fur-
niture is prettiest. So you can paint
your furnishings brown and use al-
most any gayly colored, pretty bright
i chintz for cushions.
A few dont’s might well be con-
spicuously posted in many a mother’s
mind:
Don’t consider it necessary to sys-
tematically underrate your child.
Your adult friends will know you do
not mean it, but the child will not,
and probably more characters are
weakened by the lack of self-confi-
dence engendered by such a process
than by the vanity which follows the
silly bragging of overfond parents.
Don’t think that the moment you
are alone with your boy or girl you
must find fault or endeavor to im-
prove the occasion by a little moral-
izing, no matter in how loving a spir-
it. This is the hardest don’t of all,
for no one is so anxious to help a
child toward perfection as is the par-
ent, yet it surely leads to an avoid-
ance of the moments alone together,
which should be times of happy con-
fidences.
Don’t correct the child before oth-
ers. Never mind if a well meaning
relative does say, “My dear, I am sur-
prised that you do not show more
force of character; your children are
suffering from a lack of discipline.”
Pass the matter over until you and
the small offender can have it out
alone. If the circumstances are such
that it cannot be passed over, take
him out of the room.
Lastly, laugh often with, but never
at, your child. This takes self-denial,
but it pays. Make up your mind that
whatever others may say, he can de-
pend upon you for a quick, sure un-
derstanding, without quibble or joke
at his expense. This does not mean
that he must not take his share of
harmless fun. It is wholesome, and
too much sheltering would make him
over-sensitive; but the mother who
lets her child know that she never
makes fun of him will be surprised at
the confidence with which he relies
upon it.—Nella Foss Ford, in “Moth-
er’s Magazine.”
When frying eggs place a cover
over the frying pan. This cooks the
egg evenly and without turning.
Poached eggs should be done the same
way.
Apple parings and cores should be
stewed to a pulp and then strained.
This will make a jelly which, spread
on apple tart, will greatly improve it.
It can also be used for flavoring tap-
ioca pudding.
Orange peel and lemon peel may be
used for flavoring sauces and stewed
fruit. They can be dried and kept in
a glass-covered jar until used.
If potted cheese gets crumbly or
dry in the pot, mix into it a table-
spoon of boiling water and, have the
spoon hot before measuring the wa-
ter. Mix thoroughly and the cheese
will be freshened and improved.
Put the shoe on the last, take a flat-
iron not too hot and a piece of wax;
cut it in chips, put the wax on the sole
of the shoe, then iron the sole with
the wax on it; put enough wax on so
it will be all soaked in the leather.
This is a very handily way of pre-
serving your shoes when you don't
wear rubbers.
—=Put your ad. in the WATCHMAN.
FARM NOTES.
After making a 10-year test in
three orchards, that differed consider-
ably in climatic and soil conditions,
the New York Agricultural Experi-
ment Station has concluded that
dwarf apple trees are not to be recom-
mended for the professional grower.
In these tests the station found that
while there is a possibility of the
dwarf trees bearing a little earlier
than the standard trees of the same
varieties, the amount of fruit so pro-
duced is too small to make the dif-
ference in bearing age of the two
classes of trees of commercial value.
Ten years, however, is a rather
short period in testing productiveness
thoroughly, but, nevertheless, there
were no indications during that test
that pointed to the possibility of a
larger number of dwarf trees on an
acre yielding more fruit than the
proper number of standard trees.
Another fact against the dwarf
system was that the fruit was no
larger, handsomer or. better flavored
than that of the full-sized trees of the
same kinds.
In favor of the dwarf trees it may
be said that their small size makes it
possible to grow more trees, and, con-
sequently, more varieties, if desired,
on a given area, besides being more
ornamental than standards. These
are facts that appeal rather strongly
to the amateur grower, but they have
no commercial value to the profes-
sional orchardist.
Growers of fruit for market find
several objections to dwarf trees that
forbids their adoption. There is
great confusion in apple stocks in this
country, as well as in Europe, and it
is difficult, and at times impossible,
to get trees of the dwarfing stock de-
desired. This is a distinct detriment,
for a half-dwarf tree, where a true
dwarf is wanted, would be about as
much out of place as would be a
standard. Usually dwarf trees sell at
a higher price per tree than stand-
ards, which gives a very high acre
cost, since four to nine times as many
trees would be needed for an acre as
standards.
In very cold climates dwarf and
semi-dwarf trees, especially the for-
mer, are very liable to winter injury
or to winter killing.
The union between stock and scion
is not as good with dwarf trees as
with standards, consequently more
dwarf trees break off and are lost.
To maintain the trees as dwarf re-
quire watchfulness and labor, since
the scions frequently throw out roots
if the union is at or near the surface
of the ground. These roots must be
removed or the trees quickly cease to
be dwarfs.
The rooting system of dwarfing
stocks is relatively shallow, which re-
sults in several disadvanatges: The
dwarf trees are easily blown over,
particularly when heavy with fruit;
they suffer more from drought than
do the deeper-rooting standard trees,
and they cannot be so thoroughly cul-
tivated to conserve the moisture be-
cause of the shallow-rooting habit; in
cultivating root injuries are frequent,
leading to lessened vitality of the tree,
to ready entrance of disease and to
the formation of suckers, a vexatious
trouble of dwarf stocks. Suckering
is due also, no doubt, to the fact that
dwarf stocks are usually propagated
from cuttings or layers.
To maintain the trees as dwarfs
some summer pruning is necessary,
and it has been found impossible dur-
ing the ten years to find a method and
a time that will assure satisfactory
results from summer pruning. On
the one hand, the results for which
summer pruning is done—mainten-
ance of dwarfness and promotion of
fruitfulness—do not always follow;
and, on the other hand, positive harm
often results because of the weak,
sickly second growth which often is
an after-effect, and which nearly al-
ways succumbs the following winter.
In these tests clean cultivation,
with cover crops, usually legumes,
was adopted as the method of tillage
in each orchard, which was followed
throughout with slight changes, as
conditions demanded; and the trees
were sprayed whenever necessary.
Much time and labor had to be given
each year to removing suckers and
scion roots, operations essential to
keep the trees true to type and to
maintain their vigor. Pruning also
was a perplexing problem, since the
severe trimming of the trees at set-
ting made it difficult to secure good
heads in many cases. The winter
pruning was not unlike that of stand-
ards, though more heading back was
needed to restrict the size of the
trees. Summer pruning is a necessity
in the successful culture of dwarf
trees, but no satisfactory system was
developed by a series of experiments
in the three orchards extending over
ten years in time.
The unual orchard mishaps occur-
red, like failure of trees to grow, gird-
ling by mice, injury by stray animals,
death from blight or from unknown
causes, but the percentage of loss was
small from these incidental perils of
all orchard culture; but it was large
from those apparently due to the
dwarfness of the trees. Many trees
winter killed; many failed to make a
good union, with death or failure as
the result; and the surface-rooting
habit caused an unexpected number of
deaths and failures. At the end of the
tests the number of missing or re-
placed trees was quite too large for
profitable orcharding.
Contrary to what has been general-
ly claimed for dwarf trees, ten years
from bud proved too short a time to
give satisfactory data regarding pro-
ductiveness. This is in part, undoubt-
edly, due to the whip-pruning of trees
at setting, the severe pruning neces-
sary later to secure good heads, and
the experiments in summer pruning.
There is no question but that the
eye always favors the dwarf trees.
Such trees are seen loaded with fruit,
and the conclusion follows that they
have come in bearing earlier and are
more productive than larger trees
which really bear more fruit, either
per tree or per acre, though seeming
to carry less. Dwarfs are much more
spectacular than standard trees—
hence, in part, their reputation for
early and productive bearing.
Colorful, Ooo.
Dots, immense in size,
some new silks.
appear on
wid