\ Peworai atcn Bellefonte, Pa., October 26, 1917. THAT ROAD WITHOUT A TURN. Far beyond the Fairy Highway, Where truth and justice will not burn, We once more look with pleasure To that road without a turn. We often view our shadows; And wonder what they mean, But, however fine the aspect, The image will be seen. Each road has its limit; A thousand miles or more, Once trod upon your highway You’ll pass this way no more. The first few years of manhood; Are the first steps on the way, These few unwelcomed heart-aches Will not last all the way. Then count your deeds of kindness; And debit them ‘ere too late, If at all these glorious pleasures Of the straight road you would ciate. appre- You don’t hear “stop and listen;” For the world must onward roll, Wait and learn while yet approaching, And no one there shall ask for toll. Then listen for advices; Take them all and never spurn, Render each his duly portion, And begin a road without a turn. —By M. C. S. THE CASE AGAINST THE DEAN SMELTER. “This is very good, John,” Pro- fessor Hammond said, looking up from the carefully written-out record of the experiment his young assist- ant had been making. “By the way, what did you mean when -you told Tompkins that you were not going on with your class next year?” For an instant John Darrow turn- ed his face away. Then he crossed the laboratory to the alcove where the professor’s desk stood. “It’s the money, Professor Hammond,” he said. “I must drop out for twelve months and earn the five hundred dollars I will need for my Senior year.” “You can earn some here. let me lend you the rest?” John shook his head. “Thank you, but mother does not like the idea of my going into debt. She says—" He was interrupted by the opening of the door. A boy looked in to say: “There is a man outside, Professor Hammond, who asks to see you. He said to tell you his name is Ned Better Dean.” . “Ned Dean? Why, I—O, I re- member! I used to know his brother in Boston. Show him in.” John went to his work at the table half-way down the room. He glanced up, to see that Dean was under mid- dle age, alert, determined. His bus- iness suit was worn and his hair was ruffled over his head. “Now I hope I am not interrupting you, Professor Hammond,” Dean said as he shook the older man’s hand. “You know you told me to call on you if I needed assistance. A State uni- versity, even if it is the State of Cal- ifornia, seems like a strange place to come for help in trouble at a smelter, but I know you do some wonderful : things here at Berkeley.” A smile looked out from the profes- sor’s deepest eyes. “Thank you, Dean. We do do some surprising things here, especially in our labora- tory work. Tell me your trouble. You own and run a gold smelter on San Francisco Bay?” “Yes. It is small, but there is a big chance for the business to grow. In time I hope to get forehanded enough to install machinery for re- ducing other ore. You see north of me it’s all sand dunes, but south a man by the name of Brunney has been experimenting for several years with trees and shrubs. He has a sort of nursery. Now he is trying to have my smelter declared a nuisance and put out of business.” “How’s that?” Professor Hammond asked. Dean’s voice was heavy and he had spoken with so much force that John Darrow looked up from his work to hear the rest of the story. Bringing his fist down on the professor’s desk, Ned Dean went on: “Why, Brunney says the fumes from the smelter are injurious to his trees and shrubs. There is no use de- nying that they are losing their foli- age, but I know there is not enough toxic in the smelter fumes to do any damage. You see, I have taken every possible precaution to have the gases rendered innocuous.” “What, in your opinion does cause the trouble with your neighbor’s trees? And what is the trouble? Are they dying or simply losing their fo- liage ?” Ned Dean leaned forward. “Ilike the way you take hold of a subject. The trees look as if they were blast- | ed; the foliage is dropping as bad as it would back east after a sharp frost. Now, Professor Hammond, if you will send a man down to look the land over, I'll pay his expenses. If he can | prove that my smelter has nothing to ! do with the Brunney’s trees, I'll give | him five hundred dollars.” : For a moment Professor Hammond | sat lost in thought. There was not | vet enough data in his possession for him to form any opinion regarding the trees. Dean moved uneasily in his chair, and the other man roused himself to say: “I’ll be glad to have one of our men look into it for you, Dean. During our summer vacation we have only a few here, but the fall | term opens—" > “Please, Professor Hammond, I wish you would let me investigate this,” John cried, walking forward to the alcove where the two men were seated. “Why, that would be the very thing! Dean, this is John Darrow. He finished his Junior year here in June. For a month now he has been helping me with some experiments. John is specializing in botany and chemistry, so he is just the one for you.” ° “But isn’t he too young? I don’t suppose you would want to put one of | N your big guns on the job, but—well, if I'm shut down, it means ruin for me. i would his audience take what he had The old professor's kindly face! grew grave. “I see. John can do this just as well as any man here. If it! proves too much for him, I'll go down | and take a look at the trees. You! want him to get to work at once?” | “Early tomorrow morning. Brun- ney intends to begin proceedings this | afternoon, but I can stand them off a week if I have a Berkeley man inves- ! tigating the matter.” The three men talked for an hour. | Then John Darrow bade the others | good-by and went hurrying across | the campus. Me was obliged to make | a hurried trip to San Francisco to | prepare himself for his work. Al-| ready he was heartily alive to its pos- | | sibilities; there would be opportuni- | ties to test his efficiency in both of | his favorite subjects. Then there! would be something more—an oppor- | tunity to combine scientific exactness | with daring imagination. When Dean reached the office of his reducer works the next morning, he found John waiting for him. The young man was arrayed in a khaki suit and stout shoes. Over one shoul- der was slung a knapsack containing a magnifying glass, a few simple chemicals, a lunch, and a flask of water. “Now what do you want me to do to get you started ?” Dean asked. “0, I am started already and came to report that I was at work. Mr. Brunney has given me permission to visit his groves and gather all the leaves I need. He was polite, but pos- itive that there was no reason for the blight save the gases from the Dean smelter.” Ned Dean frowned. “Well, I must! leave it all to you. If I can do any- thing to help, let me know. It will not be very pleasant tramping round here, because it is so dusty. I'd be mighty glad to see rain.” “Rains rarely come before Novem- ber. It is unusually dry this sum- mer, for last winter's rainfall was less than half the usual amount, and the year before was a dry one. Good- by, Mr. Dean. As soon as I have any- thing to report, you shall hear from me.” He strode off down the beach. Westward stretched the bay, its tran- quil blue surface flooded with sun- shine. Off to the north was a waste of sand dunes, with here and there a clump of scrub oaks, misshapen and twisted by wind. East and south wooded hills rose. They were burn- ed brown by the fierceness of the sun and powdered with dust. John drew a long breath. “It’s a wild setting for my first success, for that is what I mean it to be. I'll win!” For four days John never left that region, save to sleep during the hours of darkness. Then he made a hurried trip to Berkeley. There he found that Professor Hammond had been sum- moned to Sacramento to attend the funeral of an old friend. “I believe I'll talk it over with Mapes,” John said to himself. Then he threw back his head a little defi- antly. “No, ll not doit. If I am on the right track, the books and rec- ords here will give me all the assist- ance I need. If I am wrong, then I must take another start. I must win, both for the Dean’s sake and for the honor of Berkeley, to say nothing of the five hundred dollars that will see me through college next year.” In the meantime Dean was hard pressed by Brunney. It was Wednes- day, the fifth day of John’s investiga- tion, when, as he was crossing the dunes not far from the smelter, Dean | joined him. | “Found anything yet?” he demand- ed, a little sharply. “Nothing positive, but I’ve an idea, | a somewhat unusual one, and I—” Dean interrupted him: “Now I be- gin to be afraid that your ideas are so unusual that they will never come to be facts. If I cannot prove that Brunney’s ideas are all nonsense, I'll not be allowed to start this business next Monday. You better get busy.” |! “That is just what I am doing,” and John hurried away before Dean could speak again. Friday evening Ned Dean was sum- | moned to the telephone. It was John’s voice that said: : “Please meet me at, Professor Ham- mond’s office at nine o’clock tomor- row morning.” “Have you solved the problem ?” “I think so, but I would rather not explain until I see you. My explana- tion must be verified by the records I’ve made in order to be understood. Ned Dean was on hand promptly. On entering the office he was surpris- ed to find a half dozen men present. There was Tom Brunney, the lawyer employed by him, and the one em- ployed by Dean, Professor Hammond, and two strangers. These last were introduced as Berkeley professors, men whose work was along the line of John’s investigations. “Well, am Ito go on with my work?” Dean demanded. “I do not care so much how I go on, if only I do it.” I “Now that is hardly fair to me or to Mr. Brunney,” John declared. “Please be seated, Mr. Dean, and let me tell my story in my own way.” Dean sank into a chair. John look- ed round at the circle of eager-faced men. His wholesome color had fad- ed a little and his eyes gleamed. How to say? “First let me announce that the gases from the Dean smelter have no evil effect upon vegetation.” “We will have to have something more than your word for that, young man,” Mr. Brunney snapped. “That’s what Dean has declared all the time, but it has not stopped the blight that is killing my trees.” “I have proof for you. In order to show that the gas did not hurt the fo- liage, I saw that I must find out what did. It took me some time. Then I had to make experiments showing what effects gases did produce when strong enough to injure vegetation. These statements that I have written out would be taken as evidence by any court after having been approv- ed by experts. Authorities declare that it is always the young leaves that are injured by anything poison- ous in the air. This is because the young foliage is softer, more watery. ow, Mr. Brunney, it is the old leaves that have fallen from your trees. “I reckon that’s so. Why do they fall?” me 7 Number 26. J THE EFFECT OF BACTERIA UPON MILK. To avoid the evil influence of bacteria have been designed all the methods of caring for the dairy and barn, all the methods of distrib- uting milk in ice cars. Moreover, all the special devices connected attempt to avoid, in the first place, the presence of too great a num- ber of bacteria, and, in the second place, the growth of these bacteria. | with the great industry of milk supply have for their foundation the | i H. W. CONN. Late Bacteriologist of the Connecticut State Board of Health. It has been shown how bacteria get into milk and that the more careless- ly it is handled, the greater the num- ber present. As milk is an ideal food i they begin at once to grow and mul- tiply with great rapidity producing changes in the milk commonly called fermentations. SOURING OF MILK. The most universal and familiar change effected in milk is its souring due to the action of certain of the milk bacteria upon the milk sugar (lactose) converting it into lactic acid. The acidity begins to be evident to the taste when it reaches about 0.3 per cent. calculated as lac- tic acid. As the formation of acid i goes on, the casein is precipitated and curdling of the milk occurs. After a certain amount of acid is formed the action of the bacteria ceases, as they cannot continue their development in such acid solutions. If a carbonate, as soda, is added to the milk to neutralize the acid, growth of the bacteria will be continued. The formation of lactic acid is a characteristic possessed by a large number of bacteria. Although many different species are known to have the power of souring milk, they do not affect the milk in the same way as they differ in the kind and amount of acid produced and in other changes, so that the resultant soured milk is quite variable. In spite of this varie- ty, however, bacteriologists are now agreed that a few species—perhaps one or two—are commonly responsi- ble for the natural souring of milk. Some authorities describe the com- | mon lactic bacteria as a single spe- cies, a small rod, to which the name Bacillus acidi lactici is given., Others divide them into two groups. One of these comprises gas-forming bacilli of the Bacillus lactis aerogenes type and closely related to the colon bacillus commonly found in the intes- tinal tract. Wherever carelessness prevails in the matter of cleanliness, these gas-producing forms are apt to be abundant. The second type is a streptococcus to which the name Strepto coccus lacticus has been giv- en. It is very abundant in naturally soured milk and has been found on the skin of the cow, in cow-dung and in milk at all stages of handling. i There is no scientific foundation for the belief that thunder storms cause milk to sour prematurely. It is ex- plained by the fact that atmospheric conditions usually incident to a thun- der storm are such as permit of a rapid growth of bacteria. Sterile of electric storms. t | OTHER FERMENTATIONS. Although milk allowed to stand or- dinarily turns sour from the forma- tion of lactic acid, other fermenta- tions are exceptionally produced. The formation of butyric acid in milk which may be recognized by the “ran- | infrequently | cid butter” odor not found in old, sour milk was thought for a long time to be a continuation | of the lactic fermentation, but is now | tion, Hogs Solve the Garbage Problem. The prevailing system of garbage disposal in American cities is that of incineration. This puts a burden up- on the taxpayer or home owner ac- cording to the system of cost distri- bution, and at the same time results in an economic waste. The reports of health departments in a majority of American cities prove that garbage disposal is regarded as an unsolved problem. In such cities, garbage is a nuisance, while in Denver it is the ba- sis of a new public-utility. corpora- tion. Since utilization of waste food has become a matter of utmost im- portance in America, of timely inter- est is the comprehensive article on this civic enterprise in the November issue of the Popular Mechanics Mag- azine. The city of Denver, with its 250,000 inhabitants has paid nothing for the collection and disposal of its garbage for ten years, neither as a municipal- ity, nor as individual citizens. The garbage question there is the least troublesome of all the health-depart- ment problems. The contract between the city and the hog-ranch corporation runs in four-year periods. For a considera- $1, the Denver hog ranch is known to be caused by a number of | given the privilege of hauling away different but closely related anaero- | the city’s garbage. ] These find favorable | equipment for this work consists of bic bacteria. conditions for growth in the absence of dissolved oxygen in the milk which is consumed by the sour-milk bacte- ria. Most of the butyric class of bac- teria are spore-bearing and | i | i | The company’s 3b steel tank wagons, each of 600- gal. capacity. City ordinances require every home owner to provide a covered, galvan- hence | ized iron garbage can; to keep this they are frequently present in boiled | can clean; to throw into it only edi- or pasteurized milk. ble garbage. A garbage collector Not infrequently milk curdles in a | Who finds paper, glass, or other for- weakly acid or neutral condition, known as “sweet curdling.” The co- agulation of the milk is caused by the action of enzymes of a rennet type | prese | | eign substances in the cans reports the matter to city authorities and the resident is compelled to dispose of this garbage himself. Until the nt year, when the anti-waste that are formed by the growth of va- | campaign instigated by the world war rious species of bacteria. The whey separates from the curd preducing a “wheyed off” condition. may be gradually dissolved due to the digestion or peptonization of the casein by proteid-dissolving enzymes that are prodouced by the bacteria. Alcoholic Fermentations.—Although | specialized organization. resulted in a 33-per-cent. reduction in garbage supply, the average annual The curd | yield was 22,000 tons. In addition to regular government inspection at the packing houses, the state veterinarian inspects the ranch and its stock about once a week. The hog-ranch corporation is a highly The aver- glucose or cane-sugar solutions are age number of hogs maintained is extremely prone to undergo alcoholic | 5,000. fermentation, in milk it is less usual than either the lactic or butyric fer- mentations. tain alcoholic beverages is dependent upon the artificial production of this form of milk fermentation. Kou- | i i | i { | { { i | { i As soon as they will eat, the young The manufacture of cer- | Pigs have garbage fed them, and this continues to be the basis of their di- et until they reach the market size. When introduced in the weaning yards, where they remain until eight miss, a well-known drink originally : or ten weeks old, the young pigs have made by Tartars from mare’s milk is | alfalfa added to their diet, for a produced by the addition of cane |straight garbage diet does not pro- sugar and yeast to ordinary cow’s duce as valuable pork as does a bal- milk; often just a small quantity of | anced ration. Two and one-half tons old Koumiss being added to fresh | of alfalfa, fed green in summer, is It is used with suc- cess in gastric troubles. Kephir, another alcoholic ~~ beverage i made by the inhabitants of the Cau- milk as a starter. | thrown in the racks every other day. The ranch has 1,300 acres of alfalfa field under lease, from which an am- 18 | ple supply is derived. When weaned the young pigs are casus from the milk of cows, goats, | immunized fof life from hog cholera. and sheep by adding “Kephir grains,” | A veterinarian injects cholera virus small yellowish granules—a mass. of | and cholera serum at the same time. fermented cells (yeasts and bacteria) —that start the fermentation. “Diseases” of Milk. — Abnormal changes, sometimes called “diseases” of milk, are produced by the presence of unusual species of bacteria which occasionally find ther way into milk Some- | from uncleanly surroundings. times the milk will turn blue, acquir- ing a sky-blue color, or it may be- come red or occasionally yellow, which changes are caused by the pres- | milks are never affected by the action ence of various chromogenic or color- producing bacteria. by any of these infectious troubles. i} | If the dairyman will use care in and around the barn and dairy and | then apply low temperature to the milk he need never be disturbed | Occasionally milk becomes so slimy that it can be drawn into long threads. This often proves a costly and trou- blesome infection to the dairyman for it sometimes persists in spite of all attempts made to remedy it. Failure to properly sterilize cans, and par- ticularly strainer cloths, is frequent- ly responsible for continuance of the trouble. Bitter milk may be ascribed to a variety of causes. A number of plants, when consumed by animals, possess the property of affecting milk. At certain stages in lactation, a little salty taste is occasionally noted that is peculiar to individual animals. There are a number of spe- cies of bacteria capable of imparting a bitter taste to milk and its products, although little is known of the chem- ical nature of the substances con- cerned... Milk that has been cooked is likely to develop a bitter taste. This is explained by the presence of spore-bearing bacteria which are not destroyed by the heat. Bacteriologists have been able to trace the connection of all these in- fections with the growth of unusual bacteria in the milk and thorough dis- infection of the utensils and premis- es is usually sufficient to stamp them out. So far as concerns the milk pro- ducer and milk consumer, bacteria are from beginning to end a source of trouble and to avoid them as much as possible should be the desire not only of the producer but of every one who has anything to do with. milk as milk. The avoidance of bacteria is only a matter of care in handling milk and of keeping it at low temperature. While it is true that the souring bac- teria appear to be so universally dis- tributed that they cannot be avoided by any ordinary means, their number can be greatly reduced by care and their growth prevented by iceing. All other troublesome bacteria are within control as they are from avoidable sources—filth on the cow, a dirty } barn or uncleanliness about the dairy. Pure sweet milk is only a question of sufficient care. As long as we demand cheap milk, so long means labour and expense. But care will we be supplied with milk procured under conditions of filth. But when we learn that cheap milk is poor milk, and when we are willing to pay a little more for it, then only may we expect the use of greater care in the handling of the milk, resulting in a purer product. H. W. CONN. Nov. 9.— “The Relation of Disease Bacteria to Milk.” “Because of the drought. You know how far below normal the rain- fall has been for two years. I have made experiments of my own, to show the effect of the withdrawal of moisture, but I do not ask you to ac- cept the record of them as proof, for the college has dozens of such rec- ords, made over a term of several years, proving that in time of drought it is the old leaves that fall first.” It took the united efforts of Pro- fessor Hammond and his colleagues to convince Brunney. Ned Dean held out his hand. “You're a brick. I'll write that check before I leave room. I say, John, you will make a man from whom the world will hear some day.” John’s face flushed with pride, It was not the money, or even the guar- antee of the completion of his col- this , | lege course, that moved him the most. He had won, and college professors, men who had excelled in his own chosen field, were rejoicing with him. —Classmate. Trying on Her Risibles. Louella saw the circus for the first time and sat through the perform- ance as primly as if at church. “What was the matter?” her uncle asked the little lady later. “Why, the clowns,” she explained. “I could hardly keep from laughing at them.”—Everybody's Magazine. A Man of Action, She—I like a man of few words and many actions. He—You want my brother; he has St. Vitus dance.—Tiger. | | Following this treatment the pigs go into the fattening pens, being graded and regraded once or twice a month, and promoted according to weight. Shoats, upon reaching a weight of 150 pounds, are sent to the finishing pens, where corn is added to their di- et. Attendants select brood stock at this time, and these animals never re- ceive corn, as they must be kept thin. Men from 18 to 40 Proposed for Draft. Washington, Oct. 25.—Congress will be asked immediately on recon- vening to include men from 18 to 40 in the draft. Amendments to the present law are already in prepara- tion. The amendments will be introduc- ed by Representative Julius Kahn, Republican, of California, ranking member of the House Military com- mittee. Representative Kahn is the father of the present draft act. Army officials are assuming that this is to be no short war, and every man who would not be more useful at home is needed to bear arms. Speak- ers soon will start a campaign, it is hinted, to bring these facts home to the people. The amendments will provide that every man between 18 and 21 and 31 and 40 shall be registered for mili- tary service. It is estimated that this will give the government an addition- al 12,000,000 men to draw upon. The amendments provide, however, that youths while obliged to register upon attaining the age of 18, shall not be called to the colors until they are 21. Provision also is made that no man of more than 31 shall be called to the colors until all the present draft— from 21 to 31—is used up, and the boys who have attained the age of 21 since the June 5 registration shall also have been called. Representative Kahn’s plan would give America a reserve of 19,000,000 men to draw upon—all between 18 and 40. How to Address Letters to in Europe. Soldiers Making certain that letters will reach American soldiers now in active serv- ice in Europe is an easy matter if let- ter-writers will follow a few simple instructions, advises the Pennsylva- nia committee of Public Safety. There is a standard form of ad- dress for all men in the army serv- ice abroad and this is how the War Department wants all letters address- ed (substituting the correct name, company and regimental or other des- ignation in place of the one used here:) John Smith, Co. K, 18th Infantry, American Expeditionary Forces. No other address is allowable. Be careful to set down the name, Com- pany initial and regimental number plainly and correctly. Then attach a United States two-cent stamp for each ounce or fraction of an ounce. Foreign stamps must not be used. In the upper left corner of the en- velope place your own name and ad- dress. In other respects the mail will be handled subject to the same regulations that control mail service in the United States. Health and Happiness / “Mens sana in corpore sano” FARM NOTES. —Where trees are planted in the fall, the roots should be exposed as little as possible to sun and air; the soil should be packed very firmly obout the roots and the trees should be set slightly deeper than they stood in the nursery, with the largest roots and also the largest limbs, if possi- ble, directed toward the prevailing winds. The trees should also be lean- ed somewhat toward the southwest to reduce the danger of sun scald. _—Numerous examples might be cited to show the influence of a pure- bred sire in grading a herd. At The Pennsylvania State College a herd composed largely ‘of grade cows originally, just such as the av- erage dairy farmer possesses, con- tained a few purebred animals. All the heifer calves, good, bad and indif- ferent, were raised and added to the herd. The object of the experiment was to determine the value of the purebred bull in increasing the aver- age production of the herd when cull- ing was not practiced. The results are as follows: The average yearly yield of butter- fat per cow for the first five years was 225.7 pounds; for the second five years, 243.4 pounds; and for the third five years, 266.9 pounds. These fig- ures show an average yearly increase of 41.2 pounds for every cow in the herd during the third period as com- pared with the first. This increase was evidently due largely to the in- fluence of the purebred sires, since no culling or selection was practiced. In investigations in Illinois, Hoard’s Dairyman found that dairymen who were grading up their herds with purebred sires were receiving over $20 higher returns per cow annually than those practicing no grading. Surveys in Tompkins county, N. Y., developed the fact that dairymen with purebred sires were clearing on the average $1,012 annually, after paying all expenses and deducting five per cent. interest on capital in- vested, as against $395 per year clear- ed by dairymen with great sires. —Root crops such as beets, carrots and turnips, can be very successful- ly and economically stored for the winter in outdoor pits. They will en- dure frost but should be harvested before freezing weather occurs, which in many part of Pennsylvania is usually the early part of Novem- ber. Parsnips and salsify are quite hardy and may be lert in the row in the garden and dug the following spring, or stored like other roots. The tops of beets should be cut to within an inch of the root. Close cut- ting causes bleeding and a loss of col- or. Other rooots should be topped close to the crown. The pit must be located in a well drained part of the garden. A shal- low excavation, five or six inches deep, two or three feet wide and as long as may be necessary, provides a good pit, according to J. R. Bechtel, of The Pennsylvania State School of Agriculture. Sometimes the pit is lined with straw or leaves. As soon as roots are dug they should be topped immediate- ly, placed in the pit in a conical or in- verted V-shaped pile and covered with heavy paper, leaves, or better, with straw. Roots go through a sweating or heating process when first placed in storage, during which time ventila- tion is absolutely necessary. For this reason the top or apex of the pile should have only a light covering of straw until late in the fall. During cold, frosty nights old carpet, bags, or similar material may be spread over the top for protection. After sufficient time has been al- lowed for the escape of heat and when severe freezing weather arrives, successive layers of soil each several inches deep should be added to the Dis nul it is covered to the depth of a foot. —The average yield per acre, of potatoes for the past ten years, in Pennsylvania is only about 85 bush- els. This is due to several factors, according to authorities of The Penn- sylvania State College, one of which is the common practice of planting tubers from unselected stock. If the farmer at digging time will select his seed for next year’s plant- ing from the healthy and most prolif- ic hills and store the seed in a cool, dry place, preferably apart from the common stock, he will find that such selected seed will often double his yield. Do not fail to select tubers from hills which are free of scab or any form of rot. By this precaution much disease will be eliminated from the next season’s crop. Potatoes keep best if stored at a temperature of 33-36 F., but very well also at a temperature of 40 de- grees or even a little higher, accord- ing to the authorities of The Penn- sylvania State College. Ideal conditions for potatoes are seldom attained where cellars of dwelling houses are used for storage places, but such cellars may often be made satisfactory. A cellar room in which there is a furnace is too warm for potatoes. When there is heat in any part of the cellar, the storage room should be separated from the rest of the house by brick, concrete or double wall of tongued and groov- ed boards having a dead air space. Such storage room should have at least one window by which ventila- tion can be arranged. The floor should be of earth rather than con- crete or wood. It is important that light be excluded from stored pota- toes, for even diffused light tends to turn the tubers green and to injure them from table use. When conditions are not suitable for cellar storage, it is often advisa- ble to store in pits those intended for late winter and spring use. Only a well-drained site should be chosen for a pit. An excavation five or six inches deep should be made and this cavity lined with straw, hay or leaves. The potatoes should be piled on this material in a compact heap, then cov- ered with four to six inches of straw and followed by a six inch layer of earth. ‘After the earth has frozen some- what another layer of straw and a second layer of earth should be add- ed. The layer of earth should be eight or ten inches deep. Water should be drained away from the pit. by means of shallow ditches. i ®
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers