Bellefonte, Pa., November 23, 1917.
a—
THE KAISER TO UNCLE SAM.
I would not be your enemy,
I love you far too well,
My deep affection, verily,
No human tongue can tell,
And I have shown my tenderness;
Such was our family’s plan
Since Vater Fritz was wont to slay
The raging Austrian.
I longed to be a friend to you,
True to my latest breath,
And so I scattered bombs which blew
Your working men to death.
And so I drowned your citizens
Found on an ocean ship.
Twas to your country’s denizens
A mild and friendly tip.
Benevolent were all my plans
* Toward folk within your gates,
And so I urged the Mexicans
To capture several States,
Lest ye might loll in idleness
Beneath your cloudless blue,
I tried to find—I must confess—
Some work for you to do.
I would not be your enemy,
I love you much too well
The starry banner of the free
Adorns your every dell.
I pledge you, offer you my hand,
Your friend till Judgment Day,’
And hope that you will understand
My courteous little way.
—Toronto Daily News.
“FINE FEATHERS.”
(Concluded from last week).
“Miss Brown!”
The face she turned up to Robert
Faulkner's gaze was not the face of
the San Francisco man’s peach, but
the stars were still alight in its eyes,
and the man who had crossed the
room and was standing beside her for-
got what he had intended to say to
Miss Brown. He looked at her with
his mind full of new thoughts.
A most disconcerting girl, a girl of
surprises. Her eyes did not belong to
her face—or maybe they did; for,
slowly, under his steady, puzzled
scrutiny, a faint color was creeping
into the pale cheeks, a tremulous
smile was touching the lips, a shy
happiness was flooding the whole face.
This was an evening of strange
changes and discoveries. Why, what
queer things happened when you gave
them half a chance, when you open-
ed your eyes!
This was not the San Francisco
man’s peach; but neither was it Rob-
ert Faulkner's plain and efficient
book-keeper, Mary Brown. This was
a girl who was young and sweet and
brave and pathetic, a girl who was
very tired, a girl in need of tender-
ness. Oh, a most disconcerting girl.
“Miss Brown,” he began again, but
stopped to wonder what her other
name was. Had her parents named
her for the Peach, or for the Book-
keeper, or for the little girl who was
so shy and sweet and tired. Oh, yes,
that was it. She was tired. He had
started to tell her that she must put
away her books and go home.
“It’s almost nine o’clock,” he said
gently. “You mustn't go to work
again.”
“I'm out of balance.”
“Hang the balance.”
It was not his usual style of con-
versation with employees; but this
was not a usual evening: Things
were different. He was different him-
self. For some unknown reason he
felt oddly young and boyish, tired of
the tyranny of business. Over at the
Waldorf, Jenkins was probably wait-
ing to figure on those brocades with
him.
Hang Jenkins! Hang the brocades!
So far as he was concerned, the Amer-
ican woman,could wear plain satins.
“What is your first name?” he
asked.
It was altogether irrelevant, but it
did not seem so to the girl. Nothing
could surprise her now. One so soon
becomes accustomed to thrills.
“Mary!’ she murmured.
“Mary!” Of course. Mary was the
name for her. J
“Well, you are too tired to work,”
the man said, quite as though her
name had settled the matter. “And
you've had no dinner, I suppose? No?
Neither have I. Put on your things,
and we’ll go out and have some.”
Her coat was as worn and cheap as
her frock, and her hat had cost her
$2.98, on Fourteenth Street; but he
did not notice them and she forgot
them: In the shop on the corner he
bought her violets, and she pinned
them to the worn coat as contentedly
as though she had been pinning them
to the ermine of her earlier apothesis.
. “I’ve always been crazy for a
bunch,” she admitted, sniffling at the
purple sweetness.
“You don’t mean to say that they
are the first you've ever had?”
She nodded. “Mother has always
been sick, you know, and there’s Jim-
my. It takes close figuring.”
“Oh! I see.” Faulkner had sup-
posed all girls wore violets by divine
right.
He took her to a restaurant where
the food was beyond reproach but
evening clothes were not the rule, and
he ordered a dinner most of whose
items were as new to her as the vio-
lets. She was as frankly delighted
with the dinner as with the flowers,
and he watched her with a growing
warmth about his heart. Women had
always bored him, but he had never
known a woman to whom he could
show a new heaven and a new earth.
- It seemed incredible that there should
be a girl to whom the things of girl-
hood were shining new. And it was
a relief, too, to find one who was so
refreshing as not to think it necessa-
ry to pretend they were not new to
her. He liked neither pretense nor
sophistication.
“Why didn’t the men give you vio-
lets?” he asked, his thoughts swing-
ing round in a circle to that first
amazing revelation.
_ She wrenched her attention from
the famous actress who was eating
lobster at the next table.
“There weren't any men. Men
never know I'm there.” She was
frank about it and distinctly regret-
ful. “I don’t know why,” she explain-
ed. “It’s just that way. I’ve always
‘ been so busy, and I’ve never had pret-
| ty clothes. Perhaps, if they'd ever
found out I was there—but they
didn’t.”
“Fools!”
ed profound contempt,
Brown was more tolerant.
“Oh, no. It just happened so.
| had dressed differently—"
{ “Men aren't like that,”
protested.
“Qh, yes they are.
I was there.”
It was true. He couldn’t deny it.
“But I found out,” he urged.
saw me in a pink and silver evening
frock.”
He looked at her sharply but she
was not cynical.
stating explanatory facts and enjoy-
ing a fruit salad.
er you before.”
ble. “I'm
much except business;
came in the way of business
at you carefully, and you put on that
pink and silver affair—”
She had saved the maraschino cher-
ries in the salad until the last. Now
she ate them, one by one, giving her
whole attention to them, but when the
to conversation.
“Wasn’t it a lovely frock!” Her
eyes dreamed of it. “I’m glad I wore
it even for five minutes. I'll never
feel so discouraged about myself
again. When I’m looking frightfully
plain and uninteresting, Ill say to
myself, ‘Yes, you do look hopeless;
but you aren’t really hopeless. If you
had on a pink and silver evening
frock and pink satin slippers, now—"
She was half laughing, half wist-
ful, wholly sweet. One sould see she
would love to have a pretty gown, and
he knew now just how delightful she
could look in one. ‘But his eyes at last
were open. He could see the beauty
of her in serge. He felt glad and
thankful. He felt as if he had some-
how grown.
Faulkner leaned toward her across
the table. For the moment his face
seemed as young as hers.
“You don’t need the pink and silver
frock,” he said softly. “I like you
better this way, little girl.
for pink satin?”
Neither of them noticed the mascu-
line egotism of it. He liked her as
she was, and they were both content.
Across what was left of her lob-
ster, the actress watched them appre-
ciatively and with a twinge of envy.
She was with her husband. She had
been in love before and she would be
in love again, but she would never
again be in love for the first time.
There was something about these two
now that made her quickly look away.
They were unaware of their surround-
ings.
“I must go.” Mary Brown was sud-
denly, breathlessly convinced of the
necessity for going. “Mother will
worry. I'm always home by nine.”
Faulkner did not protest. He liked
her having a mother who worried, and
the world would not end tonight. The
world had only just begun.
“If you’ll please put me on a cross-
town car.
She was entirely serious about it,
and something tightened painfully in
the man’s throat, a wave of tender-
ness swept from his heart up, up to
his face; and lingered there.
Such a little girl, so gentle, so
shining-eyed, so unused to considera-
tion and comfort.
He wanted her to be safe, to be hap-
py, wanted to make her safe and hap-
py, wanted to take care of her and
teach her that life could be gay and
glad. And he wanted to tell her that
he wanted all these things; but he
only called a taxicab, put her into it,
and climbed in after her.
She demurred at first and there was
a catch in her voice as she gave him
the address of the tenement house in
which she lived on Avenue A; but
after that she was mute. She sud-
denly did not want to talk.
The evening was nearly ended; and
tomorrow—tomorrow she would be
eighty-three cents out of balance.
Whether or not this would ever again
be a tragic occurrence would depend
upon what happened tomorrow, and
the next day. For one dark second
she knew what it would be like if
there were just this one miracle, and
never any more. But that was for
only a moment. Something light
about her heart knew that, tomorrow
and the next day, to be eighty-three
cents out of balance would be a thing
of the smallest consequence in the
world. For Robert Faulkner would
be there in the office near her. She
would see the back of his head, his
kind profile. She would hear him
talking to other people—to her. He
would come and stand before her,
maybe; and, yes, she knew that he
would smile. She almost wished that
tomorrow—which would be so differ-
ent from all the days gone before it
—were here now, except that this
wonderful evening had not ended yet.
She was riding through the brilliant
streets, tucked in here away from the
world with him, comfortable, cared
for, and happy. She allowed her
mind to linger softly for just a mo-
ment on the thought of what it would
be like to have such companionship
often—even every day! Always to be
protected, admired as one chosen to be
cherished,—to be loved. But it was
only for a moment that she dared
have those thoughts.
The man beside her was silent, too;
and his thoughts, like hers, were on
the tomorrows. .
She would be there, in his office, at
her desk, and he must give his entire
attention to business as he had always
given it before tonight, must not
make things difficult for her, must be
circumspect, careful, until—until—
And, all the while, feeling like a boy
of twenty. He could never get away
with it, never. Everyone would see,
would talk. It would not do to wait;
and, yet, if he were too impatient,
went too fast, perhaps she—she was
a shy little thing and so young.
Probably she looked upon him as an
old gentleman. Perhaps she could
never—
The cab stopped before a building,
dingy and narrow and high, and the
two mounted the. steps to the door-
way. Then the taxicab snorted away,
its driver never dreaming that he was
{in a fairy coach made of a pumpkin
|
Who cares
|
“I don’t know why I didn’t discov- |
and drawn by white rats. There are
so many things to be seen when one’s
eyes are opened!
i
“I feel like Cinderella.” Mary
Faulkner's tone express- | Brown turned to say good night and
but Mary Robert Faulkner took her hand.
It
was cotton-gloved; but so small that
If I it was lost in his, and it trembled a
: little.
Faulkner
The trembling was his undo-
ing.
“I have had a nice time,” she told
She looked at him in mild surprise. him shyly. “But when the clock"
You didn’t know ! struck twelve Cinderella had to go
home and—and sit by the fire.” |
“Tomorrow night, Cinderella,” said |
the boy of twenty, “I am coming to |
“Yes; but nobody except you and | call on Mary Brown’s mother—and I |
that man from San Francisco ever | shall bring your slipper.”
The hall ‘door opened hastily and |
shut. The Prince was alone on the
tenement house steps, but up the dark |
She was merely | stairway Cinderella was running, in:
shabby shoes but with her thoughts |
on crystal slippers. |
“He likes me this way. He said he
His voice was hum- | liked me this way,” her heart sang;
afraid I don’t think of {but when she stopped for a moment
but when it | on the top of the stairs to hug her se- |
to look | cret in the kindly dusk, she grateful-
ly gave credit where credit was due.
“He does like me this way,” she:
said happily; “but, all the same, my |
fairy godmother knew what she was |
doing when she put me in pink and |
i silver.”—By Eleanor Hoyt Brainard, !
last of them was gone she came back i
in Woman’s Home Companion. i
What the Women of France are Doing |
Maude Radford Warren says in the
December Woman's Home Compan-
ion:
“In a sense, every woman in France
is a nurse and a mother to the sol-
diers. In Paris the Gare du Nord is
the railway station to which the
French soldiers come on their fur-
loughs, and from which they pass
back to the front. Early in the war,
Madame Courcol, a brilliant and
charming Parisienne who was doing
canteen work in the Gare du Nord, re-
alized that the Gare had no place
where the soldiers could really rest.
‘Figure it, Madame!’ she exclaimed,
her great brown eyes flashing; ‘these
poor boys enter Paris at all hours of
the day and night, some of them hav-
ing to wait several hours in the mean-
time with no place to go. And so I
talked and begged. The railroad au-
thorities gave me a large basement
room here in the Gare, and my friends
did the rest. Seventy-five beds, Mad-
ame, and it is rare, indeed, that one is
vacant, and only too often the men
are sleeping on the table. My enter-
prise lives from hand to mouth, from
day to day.’
“And who, standing in that dim
room, looking at the sleeping men,
would not be glad to give? There
they lie, those blue figures, with their
pale, worn faces, their great pack be-
side them, heroes who are saving
France—and us. Such weary, brave
faces, such sudden smiles when they
awake! And Madame Courcol moves
among them, dressed in white, hand-
some, vigorous, motherly; she puts a
hand on this man’s shoulder, pats the
cheek of that one, sweeps them smil-
ingly wherever she wants them to go
—and they adore her. When the
long, long train steams out slowly,
taking the men back to the front, they
lean out of the windows and cheer and
wave, brave fellows that they are!
There are none of their wives or
mothers or sweethearts on ghe plat-
form; that would be too hard to be
borne. There are a few American
girls from the American Fund for
French Wounded, with good-by gifts
of comfort-bags; and there is Mad-
ame Courcol. Many and many a home-
sick boy, who can only get to Paris
on leave, not to his own far province,
carries away the memory of her as
the best thing he can take back to the
front. Many a man watches that
white figure on the platform until it
is only a little white dot. As long as
any soldier can possibly see her Mad-
ame Courcol waves and smiles. When
the train is out of sight she weeps.”
At 73 Runs 10 Miles in 75 Minutes.
The December American Magazine
tells about a wonderful old man who
believes in running for health. The
writer says about him:
“Colonel James L. Smith is a vet-
eran of the Civil war. He is seventy-
three years old; he lives in Detroit
and never misses a day from his desk
in one of the city’s big automobile
plants. Army surgeons have pro-
nounced him ‘a physical specimen
without a paralel,” because,
“He runs, or walks, five miles as a
minimum, and ten miles as a maxi-
mum, every day.
“That is his understanding of the
secret of his youth. He doesn’t claim
that it is the secret for other people
necessarily—but it is the secret for
him.
“Detroiters no longer turn their
heads when they see this white-haired
man come running down the streets.
At seventy-three, he can run ten miles
in seventy-five minutes. At seventy-
three, he can sprint faster than the
average youth of seventeen or nine-
teen. His daily work consists of di-
recting the duties of two dozen mes-
sengers. These messengers range, in
age, from fifteen to twenty years.
There isn’t one who would attempt to
outsprint the veteran.” :
Thanksgiving.
Thanksgiving day is the only dis-
tinctly religious festival observed in
the United States at the instance of
the civil authorities. By Congression-
al and State legislation it has become
a legal holiday; in fact it comes
closer to being a national holiday than
any other. The observance of the day
is of Puritan origin. The first observ-
ance of Thanksgiving day was in
1621, after the first harvest. Since
the adoption of the Constitution the
President of the United States has
recommended a Thanksgiving festi-
val, but in 1863 President Lincoln be-
gan the custom of proclaiming an au-
tumnal thanksgiving annually, and
each succeeding President has contin-
ued the practice. The Governors of
the respective States, who alone have
legal authority to proclaim holidays
in their jurisdiction, universally fol-
low the Presidential proclamation by
one of their own, appointing the same
day for the giving of thanks—fourth
Thursday in November. New York
State began the observance of the day
Health and Happiness
SERIES of articles on the rela-
tion of bacteria to milk now
being published in the Watchman :
Aug. 17—The Bacterial Content of
Milks Supplied to Bellefonte.
Aug. 24—How the Number of Bacte-
ria in Milk is Determined.
What Are Bacteria ?
Aug. 31 and Sept. 7—Environmen-
tal Influences upon Bacteria.
Sept. 28—Sources of Bacteria in
Milk.
Oct. 5—Influence of Temperature
upon the Growth of Bacteria
in Milk.
Oct. 26.—Effect of Bacteria upon
Milk.
Nov. 9.—Relation of Disease Bacte-
ria to Milk.
| conditions for development.
in 1817.—Gas Logic.
Number 28.
SIGNIFICANCE OF THE BAC-
TERIAL COUNT.
It has been shown (No. 24, Sept.
28) how milk becomes contaminated
with various kinds of bacteria which
find in this medium most favorable
sult of this contamination is that the
period during which milk has a com-
mercial value for food purposes is
Th -
ee . fection,
! outbreak of septic sore throat in 1911,
!
"the above article Dr. Holt (Med. Jour.
tJuly 17, 1917) says:
. even more strongly that “of the usu-
‘over one million per c. c. are delete-
‘rious to the average infant.”
‘ words, the bacterial count gives val-
. cleanliness and staleness of this in-
! dispensable food.” *
‘ria in raw milk can be largely con-
cleanliness and cooling.
eties, over 1,000,000 bacteria per cu-
bic centimeter are certainly deleteri-
ous to the average infant.”
Ten years after the publication of
I still believe,
al varieties of bacteria found in milk,
Jordan (Text-Book): “In other
uable information both as to the
* % As al-
ready indicated, the number of bacte-
trolled by reasonable attention to
Even in
large cities it is possible to supply
clean, fresh milk without appreciable
additional cost to the consumer. The
sale of milk containing more than
500,000 bacteria per cubic centimeter
should not be permitted.”
In his recent articie, “The Bacteri-
ology of Foods” (Amer. Med. Jour.
: April 14, 1917) Dr. Jordan says:
' PRESERVATION OF MILK AND
“Evidently the most that can be
claimed for the bacterial examination
of milk is that it offers indications !
, more or less precise of possibilities of |
: danger.
i
|
of considerable economic importance. !
It has been further shown that milk
may become infected with pathogenic
organisms and so be the means of dis-
seminating disease.
From these two points of view,
therefore, (1) the economic, (2) the
hygienic, it is highly important that
means should be adopted that will re-
sult in improving the keeping quality
of milk and at the same time insure
freedom from bacteria capable of
producing disease.
METHODS OF PRESERVATION.
An improvement in the condition of
milk may be secured, (1) by exclud-
ing bacterial life so far as practica-
ble at the time the milk is drawn and
subsequently holding it at tempera-
tures unfavorable to the multiplica-
tion of the bacteria that do gain ac-
cess; or by removing these bacteria
wholly or in part after they have
once gained access to the milk. If
all are not eliminated, it then be-
comes necessary to keep the milk un-
der such conditions as to check the
growth of those which are not re-
moved.
Preservation by Exclusion. The
first method is followed in many dai-
ries that supply high grade milk.
The so-called “sanitary,” “hygienic”
or “certified” milk is usually a milk
that has been handled in such a way
as to prevent the introduction of most
bacteria that under ordinary condi-
tions would find their way into it.
“Certified” is a term used in connec-
tion with a certification from veteri-
nary authorities or boards of health
as to the freedom of animals from
contagious disease. A numerical bac-
terial standard is usually exacted as
a pre-requisite to the recommenda-
tion of the board of examining phy-
sicians. This standard varies for dif-
ferent cities; in Philadelphia “certi-
fied” milk must have not more than
10,000 bacteria per cubic centimeter;
in New York not more than 30,000.
There are many first class dairies
producing milk with an average of
2,000 to 4,000 bacteria per c. c. or
lower—500 to 1,000. Such a standard
has its value in the scrupulous clean-
liness that must prevail in order to
secure these results and is generally
regarded as a guarantee of the ab-
sence of many bacteria liable to pro-
duce disease in children. From a
practical point of view, the improve-
ment in quality of sanitary milk in
comparison with the ordinary product
is seen in the enhanced keeping quali-
ty. As before stated, such milk has
been shipped to Europe arriving in
good condition after 15-18 days tran-
sit. While there has always existed
a difference of opinion as to the rela-
tive merits of such sanitary milk
compared with pasteurized or steril-
ized milk, the fact that the low bacte-
rial count in it is secured by elimina-
tion rather than by destruction of
bacteria is a point in its favor for
many people.
While to produce milk thus low in
bacterial content may necessitate
methods of more than average ex-
pense, on the other hand, the exces-
sive bacterial contamination found in
cheaper milks is unnecessary as it
can in large part be prevented by at-
tention to the simple details of clean-
liness. With none of the pre-requi-
sites of a sanitary dairy, milk has
been produced that gave an average
count of from 25,000 to 30,000 bacte-
ria per cubic centimeter when exam-
ined daily for a period of six months.
SIGNIFICANCE OF THE BACTERIAL
COUNT.
The significance of the bacterial
count has been, for years, a matter of
discussion among bacteriologists and
within the last few months has been
more particularly brought to the at-
tention of the public through criti-
cism of a paper, “The Bacteriology of
Foods,” by Dr. Edwin O. Jordan,
Professor of Bacteriology, University
of Chicago (Amer. Med. Jour. April
14, 1917). The subject can be best
presented by quoting directly from
Jordan’s Text Book of Bacteriology
and from his recent article.
“The most conclusive investiga-
tions on this point are those of Park
and Holt. These observers have
found that during hot weather the ef-
fect of bacterial contamination on the
health of infants was very marked
when milk was fed without previous
heating. “When milk is taken raw,
the fewer the bacteria present the
better the results. Of the usual vari-
i pected trouble and the degree of dan-
ing absolute criteria of wholesome-
It cannot often enable us to |
declare positively that a particular |
lot of milk—I am speaking here!
of raw milk—is safe to use. A milk |
with a relatively low bacterial con- |
tent has been known in more than one !
instance to give rise to epidemic in- |
as in the extensive Boston |
when the responsible milk gave counts
‘ below 10,000 in fully half th |
greatly lessened with resulting losses | Sow i fully lielz the samples,
examined. High numbers—Ilet us say |
numbers above 200,000—may perhaps |!
arouse suspicion as to the general
care taken in collecting and handling |
the milk; but the source of the sus- |
ger to the public health can be arriv-
ed at only by the aid of dairy inspec-
tion. On the other hand, inspection
may uncover sources of danger of
which the bacterial examination gives
no hint. More important than either
dairy inspection or bacterial examina-
tion as a means of preventing the dis-
semination of infection by milk is the
control of the modes of procedure in
the milk business. Particularly im-
portant as concerns the use of raw
milk is the strictness of supervision |
exercised over the health of all em-
ployees. Prevention of the infection
of milk from human sources should
be always a primary aim. Yet such
precautions are particularly difficult
to carry out in practice. In how
many certified dairies are all em-
ployees examined for the possible
presence of typhoid carriers? And
what safeguard have we that a
healthy milker may not, one time or
another, pick up a streptococcus or
diphtheria bacillus from some unsus-
pected source and become a carrier
over night? Such familiar appre-
hensions point to the importance of the
procedure which thus far has proved
more important in checking the spread
of milk-borne disease than any oth-
er measure—the practice of pasteur-
ization. Needing, as it does, to be
controlled bacterially and otherwise
at every point, it nevertheless cousti-
tutes at present one chief reliance in
preventing the dissemination of in-
fectionby milk, = * * =
Bacterial examinations must be ve-
garded as primarily useful as guides
to proper procedure in the handling
and distributing and not as furnish-
ness. Even if we are safe in con-
demning milks consistently over 200,-
000 or 2,000,000 bacteria, we cannot
endorse all milk with less than 10,000
as surely free from all possibility of
conveying infection. In point of fact,
our interpretation of the significance
of numbers varies with our knowl-
edge of the conditions. That different
constructions must be placed on the
numbers of bacteria in raw and in
pasteurized milk is universally rec-
ognized. * * * * The numbers of
bacteria in milk have little meaning
unless the sanitary history of the milk
is known; when this is the case, they
often become useful in controlling
procedures and detecting possible
sources of danger; they can never be
used as absolute and rigid standards
for condemnation or approval; they
are guides to investigation; they are
not, taken alone, a basis for final
judgment.”
Dec. 7T—“Pasteurization of Milk”
Note.—In No. 25, Oct. 5, “The Influence
of Temperature Upon the Growth of Bac-
teria in Milk,” there was the following er-
ror: In the last column of the second ta-
ble the number 4,000,000 should be in the
first line opposite 24 hrs. instead of in the
last line opposite 168 hrs,
How Children Can Help in the War.
An editorial in the December Wom-
an’s Home Companion says:
“You ask me: ‘Do you think the
children ought to have the same sort
of Christmas as usual?’ And I say,
‘No, no, no! Certainly not! I never
have believed in this stuffing of chil-
dren with Christmas sugarplums and
loading them down with so many toys
that they could not even find them in-
teresting. I’ve done it, I admit! but
this is a good year to stop it forever!
It isn’t the children’s fault that their
Christmas has appealed to their
gredy little stomachs rather than to
their imaginative, sensitive little
souls. Let their Christmas tree this
year bear a crop of things to give
rather than a crop of things to get.
They’ll respond.”
Might of Lost Its Collar.
Percy being down to recite at the
temperance concert, stood up to do or
die. He got along all right until he
reached the words, “He stood beside
the bier!” Then his memory failed
him. :
“He stood beside the bier!” he re-
peated trembling.
The evil spirits on the back bench-
es murmured one to another.
“3e stood beside the bier!” groan-
ed Percy, and drew a moist hand
across his dripping forehead.
“Go on!” yelled a voice from the
rear. “It'll get flat while you're wait-
ing, you fool!”
“What will you have for break-
fast?” inquired the waiter. “What's
the use of my sitting here and guess-
ing. You go ahead and bring me
what the law allows for today.”—
Washington Star.
FARM NOTES.
—Sandy soil ought not to be heavi-
ly manured at any time, but should re-
ceive frequent small applications.
—Pennsylvania has imposed as a
penalty for conviction for a second
offense under the game law, imprison-
ment equal to one day for each dollar
of the fine and denial of license to
hunt for two years.
—It takes 50 per cent. more feed
to put a pound of ham on a 150-pound
pig than to put a pound on one weigh-
ing 40 pounds, and 83 per cent. more
feed for a 350-pound pig. Keep the
pigs gaining while young on pasture
and dairy by-products, if available,
always supplemented with a grain
ration.
—“Now that the country’s bumper
potato crop is flowing into markets in
an ever-increasing stream the wise
housewife will take advantage of this
cheap source of starchy food and will
give the tubers a very important place
on the dinner table,” say the home-
economics specialists of the United
Stator Health Department of Agricul-
ure.
It is well known that potatoes are a
nutritious and healthful food, of
which one may eat freely without ill
effects. As a matter of fact, say the
Department specialists, there is some-
thing more which can be said for the
potato, for the liberal consumption of
them helps to supply the body with
alkaline salts which it needs for nor-
mal health. Eat more potatoes, for
breakfast, lunch, dinner or supper,
therefore, while they are abundant,
say the specialists, to the advantage
ou both your health and your pocket-
ook.
—The prices received by producers
for cattle, sheep and hogs, September
15, and chickens, October 1, have
gained 52.7 per cent. in the general
average from 1916 to 1917, according
to the latest report of the United
States Department of Agriculture.
The advance for beef cattle per 100
pounds, live weight, was from $6.55
to $8.40, or 28 per cent; for: veal
i calves per 100 pounds, from $8.77 to
$11.08, or 26 per cent; sheep per 100
pounds, from $6.25 to $10.05, or 61
per cent; lambs per 100 pounds, from
$8.22 to $13.06 or 59 per cent; hogs
per 100 pounds, from $9.22 to $15.69,
or 70 per cent., and chickens from
14.3 to 18.1 cents per pound, or 27
per cent. Sheep, lambs, and hogs
have far exceeded beef cattle, veal
calves, and chickens in the upward
price movement at the point of pro-
duction.
The highest price at the farm per
100 pounds, live weight, reached dur-
ing the year under review, was $8.70
for beef cattle in May, $11.08 for veal
calves last September, $10.15 for
sheep in May, $13.06 for lambs last
September, $15.69 for hogs last Sep-
tember, and 18.1 cents per pound for
chickens October 1 of this year. The
latest farm price reported is the high-
est one, of the year for veal calves,
lambs, hogs, and chickens; the May
price was the highest for beef cattle
and sheep.
—Winter Care of Bees.—Beekeep-
ers lose from one-tenth to one-half of
their colonies every winter by failing
to feed and protect them properly.
That loss is too large, bee specialists
of the United States Department of
Agriculture believe, and in a state-
ment issued recently they declare
these losses of important sources of
sugar can be reduced to less than one
per cent.
Wintering bees is a problem of con-
serving the energy of the individuals
in each colony, the bee specialists say.
Three conditions in the hive cause a
waste of energy. First, when the
temperature of the air surrounding
the. bees falls below 57 degrees it is
necessary for the bees to expand en-
ergy to keep warm. Second, when
the temperature of the air is above 60
degrees the bees use energy by flying
from the hive, removing the dead that
may have accumulated, and in any
other activities which the needs of the
colony require. Third, an abnormal
activity resulting in energy loss is
caused by long periods of adverse
weather which do not permit the bees *
to fly from the hive to void their ex-
crement. This last condition may re-
sult in the death of many thousands
‘of colonies, the specialists say.
Protection of the hive and provid-
ing foods of good quality for winter
stores will conserve the energy of the
bees and enable the colony to pass
the winter safely outdoors. If the
hive is placed within a box about six
inches greater in each dimension than
the hive itself, and the space between
filled with dry sawdust, leaves, or
other insulating material, the neces-
sity of heat generation by the bees is
reduced to a minimum. A small tun-
nel through the packing material will
make a passageway for the bees to
the entrance of the hive.
Care must be taken to see that the
hives have proper food stores. Food
such as honeydew honey or honeys
with a large percentage of gums,
which may cause a rapid accumula-
tion of excrement in the bees, are un-
desirable, but may be corrected by in-
serting a frame of honey in the mid-
dle of the brood chamber after brood
rearing has ceased. Another reme-
dy for undesirable stores is to feed
about 10 pounds of a syrup made of 2
parts granulated sugar to 1 part of
water. In either case when such food
is given after brood rearing has ceas-
ed it will be placed by the bees in po-
sitions most available for immediate
use, and the poorest food stores sav-
ed until spring, when they may be
used safely.
As long as the temperature of the
air surrounding the bees is maintain-
ed at about 57 degrees and no other
irritating factor is present, the bees
live so slowly that very little food is
consumed, the colony being almost in
a dormant condition. A normal colo-
ny of bees thus protected and fed not
only will endure six months or more
of confinement but have sufficient vi-
tality left to be useful when spring
comes.
To Prepare Bees for Cold Weather.
—1. Unite any weak colonies to make
colonies of normal strength. 2. See
that every colony has sufficient food
stores of good quality to last during
the winter—25 to 30 pounds are nec-
essary. 3. Provide adequate protec-
tion against the wind and pack the
hives well, as described in detail
above.
wt
Sa’