¥ | MAKE THE GARDEN WORK ALL ; | Bellefonte, Pa., April 18, 1919. SEs— smn IF WE ONLY KNEW. If we knew the cares and trials, Knew the efforts all in vain, And the bitter disappointment, Understood the loss and gain— Would the grim eternal roughness Seem—I wonder—just the same: Should we help where now we hinder, Should we pity where we blame? — Ah! we judge each other harshly, Knowing not life’s hidden force— Knowing not the fount of action Is less turbid at its source; Seeing not amid its evil All the golden grains of good; And we'd love each other better If we only understood. Could we judge all deeds by motives That surround each other’s lives, See the naked heart and spirit, Know what spur the action gives, Often we would find it better Just to judge all actions good; We should love each other better If we only understood. —By Rudyard Kipling. THE FIELD OF HONOR. A Story of Courage and Self-Sacrifice. (Concluded from last week). Jim Forrest, the day after, receiv- ed a registered letter containing a check for eleven hundred dollars. The letter read briefly: I am instructed by my client to hand you this check, and to in- form you that there will be mail- ed, each week, to your mother, for an indefinite period hereafter, a check for ten dollars. I have no further instructions, except to preserve absolute secrecy. Jim did three things: The first was to go to the lawyer who had sent the letter and ask who had given the money. He got no answer. The sec- ond was to seek out old Eph and ac- cuse him of sending it. “Lawdy, suh,” the old darkey chuck- led guilelessly, “where you think I gwine git ‘leven hundred dollars? Don’ you joke an old man, boy.” The third thing Jim did, when he gave up hope of discovering the iden- tity of his benefactor, was to enlist. One of the charms of old Eph’s nightly performances had been that he never asked for money. It was his custom to remain sitting cross-legged upon the paving from beginning to end. He never rose to pass his hat or his palm solicitously among the list- eners; and he never went so far as to set a tincup or a similar receptacle in- vitingly beside him. If coins were tossed, his way, he caught them with his inverted banjo; if none were toss- ed, Eph never complained. But about the time Jim Forrest en- listed it was remarked that old Eph began to get greedy. At first he in- terspersed among his songs little half- caught remarks about the exceeding hard times, the high cost of living, even for a dry old darkey. A little later he introduced the custom of passing his battered old hat out through the crowd. He never carried it himself; he simply tossed it to the nearest and then broke into a gay melody to hide his confusion while it went from hand to hand. Eventually he fell into the habit of leaving his hat, bottom side up, upon the paving between his feet; and he referred now and then in his songs to the necessi- ty for putting coins into it. Some people who had known Eph for a good many years thought he was becoming miserly. They told stories, from man to man, about beggars who owned half a dozen apartment houses out in Dorchester. But, all in all, his earnings did in- crease. In the days before the war he sometimes went home with one dollar, sometimes with two, or even five; or he might trudge up the hill with only a few pennies to show for his night’s singing. On the whole, however, there had always been enough, and he had laid up something for a rainy day. No one had known of his little wealth; no one knew now that it was gone. Eph was bankrupt; and not only that, but he had mortgaged his earnings. He had pledged his future. He had promised to send to Jim For- rest’s mother the sum of ten dollars every week. And in spite of the fact that in the past he had never averag- ed earning ten dollars a week, he in- tended to keep his word. He believed, in the beginning, that this would not be hard. He would have to demean himself, to ask for money, to invite gifts, and he must make other sacrifices. He gave up his comfortable little two dollar room and took another which cost him half a dollar less. He gave up altogether the sliced baked ham that had always been his delight, the occasional eggs, the bananas. He ate meagerly, and scouted his old colored landlady when she tried to force food upon him. “I ain’ no beggar, Mis’ Hopkins,” he told her. “When old Eph cain’ pay his way, he gwine git out o’ here to som’eres where he can.” In the beginning, matters went well enough. He was able to take the promised ten dollars to the lawyer every week, and to live on what re- mained. And when he heard that Jim Forrest was in the army, the old dar- ky sang in a fashion that he had not equaled for a dozen years. The next day he boasted to his landlady: “Q1’ Eph ain’ here at all, Mis’ Hop- kins! Y’all jes’ thinks he is.” “Go ’long, Eph, you ol’ scamp!” she scolded. “I'm tellin’ you,” he repeated, “Eph ain’ here. Ole’ Eph’s in de army now. Ain’ ol’ Eph no more. He’s a fine, stroppin’ boy big enough to cut the Dutch.” “Whut you tryin’ let out, any- hows?” she demanded. “You sayin’ somethin’? Or is you jes’ talkin’ th’ough yore hat?” But he would not lay bare his se- cret to her. Eph knew white folks. He knew that Jim Forrest wouldnt want it noised abroad that a negro street-singer was supporting his mother. But he carried his old head high; and when he met on the street one day that Sergeant Hare who had refused him enlistment, Eph went in- to a fit of merriment that made the sergeant think the old darky had gone witless. Eph told his lawyer, the next week, to ask Mrs. Forrest to give them word of Jim; and when she wrote two weeks later that the boy had been ad- mitted to an officers’ training camp, Eph danced op his bowed legs and told Mis’ Hopkins loftily that she would have to step lively now. “Howcome ?” she de : “¢Caze I'm an orf’cer now.” > “Yore bughouse,” she assured him. “De booby men’ll git you.” Eph thought nothing of her words at the time; but two or three weeks later it was repeated in a way that frightened him. He had fallen into acting a little comedy of his own, a habit infinitely soothing to his soul. When he climbed the Hill every night and passed the Shaw Memorial, he had always stopped to look at it. Now he fell into the way of marching stiffly down the middle of the road to face the Memorial, and of coming to a halt there and saluting after the fashion of his Civil war days. He used to fan- cy that the eyes in the sculptured faces of the marching soldiers turned sidewise to look at him. He used to imagine that the arm of the officer wrought in bronze flicked upward in an answering gesture. And there were nights when he stood thus for a minute or two, speaking his thoughts aloud. ; Walter Ragan came upon him so, one bleak dawn in mid-November. Old Eph, very stiff and straight, was | saying respectfully: “Yas, sub, Cunnel; I'se a soldier now. Yas, suh. Gwine tuh be an: orf’cer, too.” . . “You, Eph, what are you doing out there ?”’ Ragan called. Eph looked around and cackled glee- fully. “Howdy, Miste’ Ragan?” he called. “What are you up to?” “Jes’ makin’ my reports to de cun- nel,” said Eph gleefully. “Look out, Eph,” Ragan warned him. “You’ll go bugs, and I'll have to ship you out to Waverly.” Eph had laughed at Mis’ Hopkins’s cautions, but Ragan’s warning was another matter. Eph had the negro’s deep-rooted awe of the blue uniform and the helmet, and Ragan’s word hushed him instantly; it chilled him with a sudden, cold fear. That little accumulated hoard of savings had been Eph’s protection against old age. He had expected it would one day make him comfortable while he waited his time to die. He had known it would always keep him out of the institutions he dreaded. But now that it was gone, Eph felt stripped and defenseless and afraid. So he hushed his mirth and touched his cap to Ragan. “Yas, suh,” he said. “Get along home to bed,” Ragan advised him. “I'm goin’,” said Eph; and he went. Ragan, considering the matter afterward, wondered if old Eph’s mind might not, indeed, be weakening. The old negro was growing thin; and Ragan thought that this might be the sudden wastage of age. But he was wrong. It was something dis- tinctly more tangible. It was a mat- ter of money and of food. Times were tightening purse strings. There weré 4 thousand calls for money, and each had the high urge of country be- hind it. People who had never con- sidered dollars before began to count pennies. A quarter thrown to Eph would buy a thrift stamp. And men, thinking this, returned the quarter to their pockets and turned away. One week in mid-December he had only nine dollars and thirty cents on the appointed day. He borrowed the remaining seventy cents from the lawyer, and repaid the loan next day in spite of that gentleman’s resist- ance. “Naw, suh,” Eph told him proudly. “Dis heah’s my arrangement, suh. I'll manage.” The next week he brought ten dol- lars, and the next. But for two days of that second week he ate nothing. He admitted this in the cold dawn, when he stopped for a whispered col- loquy with the figure of his old colo- nel, at the Memorial. "But dat ain’ no matter, suh,” he assured the inscrutable officer. “Dis ol’ coon don’ need tuh eat. Nothin’ but skin an’ bone, anyhow. Lawdy, suh, whut good is vittles tuh me?” Cold had struck down on Boston in December, and it held and intensified as January came. Sometimes people listening to Eph’s singing thought the old man must be shivering where he sat upon the stones; and Ragan drove him away two or three nights and bade him warm himself. But each time Eph looked at him with such pit- iful entreaty against this kindness that Ragan gave up. “Have it your own way, you old idiot,” he told Eph. “If you want to freeze, go ahead and freeze. But don’t look at a man like he'd kicked you.” “Yas, suh,” said Eph. He duly met his obligations in the first week of that cold January; he was at his post through the second week. On the appointed day, when he went to make the payment, the lawyer had good news for him. Jim Forrest’s mother wrote that, for ex- ceptional merit, Jim had been com- missioned a captain. “You understand, Eph,” the attor- ney explained, “this means he’ll have a good salary. So his mother can get along all right now. Eph’s feet were shuffling on the floor in a soft but jubilant hornpipe. “My man’s a captain, suh,” he chant- ed. “An’ I put him in where he cu’d be it. Same as if I ’uz a captain inde army, now.” : “By Jove, Eph, you're right,” the lawyer agreed. And there was a sus- picious moisture in his eyes when he had shaken Eph’s hand and seen him . But there were no tears in old Eph’s! He was riotously happy, madly happy, tenderly happy. In the early oe he spread a newspaper on the ‘cold stones of the pavement by the kiosk, and sat him down there and lifted up his voice in song. . . People said afterward that Eph h: never sung so tunefully. His voice had an unusual purity and sweetness; it was as tender as a woman’s. There was an exaltation about the old man, so that the discerning eye seemed to see a glory hanging over him. It was a bitter cold night and the streets cleared early. Ragan came along about one o'clock and found Eph still singing, and with no one ; near to hear. He bade Eph stop and ! go home, but Eph protested. a | “Please, suh, Miste’ Ragan; dis is my night {uh sing, sub.” : he shivering in his warm gar- | ments, said harshly: “This’ll be your . night to freeze to death. Get up and | go home.” 3 Eph got up. There was nothing else to 9 when a policeman commanded. | n watched him cross the street and called, “Good night.” | Eph looked back and nodded. | | “Good night, suh,” he echoed. “I'm |P€ gwine right along.” He started up Park Street; and Ra- gan went on his way, trying the shop doors, huddling in the doorways to avoid the wind blowing on his aching hands. Eph went up the Hill. Half way up Park Street he looked back and saw Ragan disappearing; so when he came to the top he felt safe in turn- ing aside a little to pause before the Memorial and report his triumph to his colonel there. . . . . He stood on the steps before the monument, and took off his hat, and explained the matter very respectful- ly; and, for all the howling of the wind, he was sure he heard the low exclamations of his comrades in the graven ranks there; and he was sure the officer looked down at him, and spoke with him, and praised him. . . The night watchman at the State House across Beacon street reported afterward that he had thought, in the night, he heard the sound of martial music in the street. been 2 banjo and an old man’s voice; he could not be sure. “But it sounded like a fife and It might have ed out; Thought I must have been dreaming.” Whether it was old Eph’s banjo and old Eph’s song he heard, or whether it was indeed the shrilling of invisi- ble fifes, welcoming a hero home, I cannot say. He says it was the “Bat- heard, so Ragan thinks it was only old Eph. But I am not so sure. ... At any rate Ragan found Eph in the morning. e old darky was hud- dled at the base of the Memorial, cud- dling his banjo in his arms, while above his head the sculptured ranks marched interminably on. Ragan and the lawyer between them decided to tell Jim Forrest the truth of the matter; and it was Jim who devised old Eph’s epitaph. That which he caused to be set upon the small, white stone was a familiar phrase enough, but glorious as simple things may be: OLD EPH January 17, 1918 Dead on the Field of Honor. By Ben Ames Williams, in American Magazine. Mother’s Pension League. A canvass of the Pennsylvania Leg- islature by the Mothers’ Pension League shows that sentiment is al- most unanimous for a larger appro- priation for mothers’ assistance. As ue of the allowance. The success of the administration of the fund has much to do with the favorable consid- eration of the measure. Forty counties in the State are co- and with the passage of the new ap- propriation from ten to fifteen addi- tional counties will join at once and secure the appointment of local boards. An attempt to divert the ad- ministration of mothers’ assistance in unorganized counties into the hands of the Juvenile court has failed, and it has proved before committees of the Legislature that the Mothers’ As- sistance law of Pennsylvania is re- garded as the standard for every oth- er State in the union where mothers’ pensions are granted. The Mothers’ Pension League, of Allegheny county, has appealed to friends of the movement throughout the State to bring before their repre- sentatives in the Senate and House of Representatives the necessity of a larger appropriation to meet the needs which are constantly increas- ing. The recent influenza epidemic has left more than 50,000 orphans in Pennsylvania. Treat Oats for Smut. Thousands of bushels of oats are lost every year in Centre county due to oat smut. Last year 150 farmers treated their seed and the average saving was anywhere from $2.00 to $8.00 per acre or a total saving of over $10,000.00 for those who treated their oats. The cost of treatment is about 21 cents per acre and no farmer can af- ford not to treat. The following meth- od is very simple and does away with the old method of soaking the oats. 1. Mix 1 pint of formaldehyde with 1 pint of water. This will treat 50 bushels. 2. Spray solution on the grain as it is being shoveled over, taking care that the mist is well distributed. A small hand sprayer, the atomizer or shoo-fly type holding a quart, does very nicely. 3. When all the grain is treated shovel into a pile and cover carefully for five hours. 4. Oats may be sown at once with a force feed drill or spread out and allow to dry thoroughly otherwise. 5. Disinfect sacks, bins and drill with the same solution. . R. H. OLMSTEAD, County Agent. Famous Sistine Choir to Tour the United States. New York.—The famous Sistine choir from Rome will make a concert tour of the United States under the auspices of high dignitaries of Ro- man Catholic Church this spring, it was announced recently. The choir which is the oldest and most famous known to the Christian world, will come here in May. It is composed of 32 choral chaplains, and for many centuries these singers have had the exclusive privilege of singing at those services and _ ecclesiastical functions at which the Pope officiates in person. The Sistine choir was founded in the fourth century by S. Sylvester whose pontificate extended drums to me,” he said over and over | again. “I came to a window and look- | but I couldn’t see a thing. ! tle Hymn of the Republic” that he | operating with the State authorities | | tent during the last year under vigi- i making them smooth. This may pre- vent further trouble from breaking. ! By jacking up the wheels, spinning ' with the tire itself, one of the larger | from 314 to 825. REAR AXLE NOISES. Grumbles and Groans Mean Trouble | in Sight. { | There are many perplexing noises | Beauteous flowers their perfume bringing | from time to time about the rear end of a car probably after it has been | run some hundreds of miles. One| should never let any internal noises go without immediate investigation, | if not attended to they may develop into serious trouble and great ex-| nse. | The most common noise is a grum- | ble or groan not very loud, but most | noticeable going around corners. Such | a noise probably comes from the dif- | ferential, and it is a lack of lubricant. Naturally, this trouble may be reme- | died by replenishing the supply of lu- bricant. Another noise is a grumble or groan similar to the first, but much louder and more distinct. The cause of this noise is worn gears. It may be quieted a little by keeping the dif- ferential case full of a good grade of heavy fibre grease. The most serious noise is a knock | heard at irregular intervals. The cause of this noise is that one or more chips broken from the gears have be- come mixed in the grease and churn- ed in between the cogs of the gears. The reason that this is so serious is that every time a chip gets caught in | between the cogs it tends to break | them off and make more chips. To | detect this trouble certainly, jack up | both the wheels and spin either of them, listening carefully for the un- | welcome knock. To remedy this the lubricant should be removed and the housing thoroughly washed out with kerosene, causing the chips to fall to the bottom of the casing. Sometimes these chips get caught in between the | cogs and refuse to be dislodged with | just kerosene. should be removed with a hammer and cold chisel, according to motor. After all the chips are out one should file (with a very hard file) all the rough and sharp spots on the gears, | them by hand and listening carefully, | making due allowance for the absence of lubricant, one can ascertain if all chips have been dislodged from the gears. When satisfied that all unde- | sirable matter has been dislodged and | washed to the bottom of the housing, remove all such material. (The meth- od used for this removal will depend upon the type of housing). The lu- bricant may now be safely replaced. If frequent trouble is experienced from the breaking of cogs, it may be wise to make the following change: Drill two holes one-quarter inch in diameter, about a foot from each wheel, in the under side of the rear axle housing. Take out the old grease and fill the differential case with heavy oil (gear box oil). If now any chips are broken off they will fall to the bottom of the case and not become a menace to the gears. The holes in’ the axle housing will prevent the oil from running out on the wheels and | internal brake bands, if such exists, ! eit of ibe Infltience. epidemic and the loss of oil will be found hard- | more widows and small children have | been left in the State and the high | cost of living has depreciated the val- | ly noticeable. After every 5000 miles | of travel, oil should be drained off and | replaced with fresh lubricant.—Phil- | adelphia Record. Seals Bring in Revenue. Washington, D. C. —Uncle Sam | now receives about $1,000,000 annual | revenue from his Alaskan fur seal service according to a statement made today by H. M. Smith, Com- missioner of Fisheries of the Depart- ment of Commerce. For several years the killing of seals was stopped by law, but by an act of Congress in 1917 it was resumed to a limited ex- lant official supervision. Under the new methods adopted only the surplus males are killed. The herds off the Pribilof Islands are estimated to be made up of about 525,000 individual seals. The num- ber killed during the last year was about 35,000. The skins, after being prepared for use, were sold at an average of about $50 dollars each. The change in plan of marketing has been of greatest benefit, Com- missioner Smith states. The old plan was to send skins to London in a raw state and sell them for $9 or $10 apiece. They were then prepared in England for commercial use, and when sent back to this country we paid a duty ef about 75 per cent. on them. By doing the curing and treat- ing here we have greatly increased our revenues, besides saving Ameri- can consumers large sums formerly paid in duties. Wishes to be Thought Dead. According to word just brought from France, Harold McWilliams, one of TUniontown’s best-known young men, was so badly disfigured by a bursting shell that he permitted the report of his death to reach his wife and parents. Memorial services were held for him at different churches and in the Elks Lodge. Two soldiers who had just returned from the war zone and who were friends of McWilliams brought the astounding news that he was not dead, but that they left him in a French hospital, so badly mutilated and disfigured that he preferred his family to think him dead. Relatives of the young man will ask the Red Cross and the War Department to in- vestigate the report. Discover 4000 Tons of Coal. Danville, Pa.—Dredgemen on the Susquehanna river have discovered a big deposit of river coal near where Roaring Creek empties in the river, the coal being of fair size and fine quality. The deposit covers an area of about an acre and at most places has been found to be two feet thick. It is estimated that the discovery will yield about 4000 tons of coal. The deposit lies under about 12 feet of water, but with the dredgemen us- ing improved machinery, it will_not be a difficult matter to get it. With the removal of this coal the Susque- hanna in the vicinity of Danville will be almost completely cleaned of coal, until another old-fashioned flood on the North Branch brings down a fresh supply from the mines. — They are all good enough, but the “Watchman” is always the best. | come loose. EASTER POEMS. By Ella McMillen, Dayton, Ohio. Hark! the Easter joy bells ringing, Praises to our risen Lord. All the earth, with love accord. Christ is risen, Alleluiah! Alleluiah! Christ our King. Praise the Lord sing Alleluiah! Christ is risen. ’'Tis His own day; Let the earth proclaim the message, Praising Him in joyful lay. Chirst is risen, Alleluiah! Alleluiah! Christ our King. Lo! 'tis God’s own angel watching O’er the tomb wherein Christ lay; { Mary, He’s not here, but risen. Risen triumphant, Easter day. Christ is risen, Alleluiah! Alleluiah! Christ our King. Praise the Lord, sing Alleluiah! Christ is risen from the tomb; All the earth is full of gladness, Perfect flowers in beauty bloom. Alleluiah to our King! Praise the Lord, sing Alleluiah! Christ our Savior, Lord and King; Over death, He's risen triumphant! Listen, God's own angels sing: Alleluiah to our King! Praise the Lord, sing Alleluiah! Christ is risen, ’tis His own day; Let the earth proclaim the message, Praising Him, in joyful lay: Alleluiah to our King! A ——" RIM NEGLECT. Broken and Ruined Tires Often Re- sult from Bent Rim. The average motorist, despite his constant endeavor to decrease his tire upkeep cost, frequently overlooks one | of the most important long mileage | If this happens they | factors, according to some of the tire | experts of Akron, where most of the | tires are manufactured. Rim neglect, | they say, is just as serious a tire men- | 2s as low-grade rubber or defective abric. Inasmuch as most discussions con- | cerning tire conservation deal largely statement concerning the rim situa- tion. It is pointed out that bent, loose, creeping and rusty rims are conditions that the tire consumer must i always guard against. A bent rim, for example, has ruin- ed many tires under 500 miles of serv- ice when that same tire would have run six or seven thousand miles if proper atention had been paid to the rim. The bend in the rim caused a break in the tire just above the bead —such a break is most destructive and costly. Loose demountable rims algo cause a lot of tire trouble, if not watched care- fully. When one of the wedges be- comes loose the rim starts “working” and gradually the other wedges be- A “creeping” rim is the result and the valve stem bears the whole strain until it is finally pulled { off. Furthermore, those wedges are often tightened up unevenly. This. ends in what is referred to as a “wob- bly” tire, and the tread is worn down prematurely. At other times motor- ists pound both the rim and the tire with a hammer to get the rim off or on. The pounding of the rim doesn’t ' do any particular harm, until it bends | the rim, but every blow on the tire may cause a fabric break and that is very serious. Rusty rims are dangerous because they corrode tubes, make it hard to change tires and sometimes result in “freezing on’’ of the tire. Rims should be cleaned at least once every six months. Ordinary paint sometimes placed on the rims after the cleaning process is not good practice inasmuch | as the heat generated by the tires melts the paint and the tire sticks to the rim. Graphite is much better for this purpose. : Puddlers’ Wages are Reduced $3.50. Lewistown, April 16.—The Logan Iron and Steel company, Burnham, have posted notices announcing a re- duction of $3.50 per ton to puddlers with sliding scale reduction amount- ing to about thirty per cent. in other departments. The cut affects six hun- dred men and was made according to the statement of the company, to cov- er the twenty-seven per cent. reduc- tion in steel and iron prices agreed upon by the War Labor board and steel magnates and to permit the plants working under the Lebanon scale competing with other mills throughout the country. This plant returned to work a short time ago after being idle several weeks owing to a strike of the Amalgamated As- sociation of Steel, Iron and Tin Work- ers of America in which the men fail- ed to gain their demands. Chicks From “Lady Victory” Eggs are Sold at $10 Each. “Lady Victory,” the world’s champ- ion hen, owned by the Pennsylvania Poultry Farm, on the Columbia pike, near Lancaster, is still on the job— laying like a “house afire”—and the first chicks that will be hatched from her eggs have already been contract- ed for at the rate of $10 each. A Massachusetts man has placed his order for two chicks, and when they are hatched and ready for shipment, within the next month, they will be given the company of a dozen or more chicks of ordinary parentage, warm during their transit down East. Two chicks—$20! Some money. The owner of this wonderful hen was formeraly an employee at the Hamilton Watch Works. One of the bosses aided him financially and he ventured into the business, and after ups and downs is now reaping suc- cess. Not in the Manual. Farmer (to one of his laborers, re- cently demobilized)—Well, Pat, which do you prefer, being a farmer or a soldier ? Pat—In one way, sir, I'd rather be a soldier. Farmer—And how’s that? Pat—Well, you see, you’d be a long time workin’ for a farmer before he’d tell you to stand at ease. Kitchen in Mourning. “Here, waiter. This steak is pos- itively burned black.” “Yes, sir. Mark of respect, Our head cook died yesterday.” sir. SEASON. The importance of keeping the gar- den working during the entire grow- ing season is now becoming better un- derstood, with the result that a fair proportion of our amateur gardeners now plan their ground with this end in view. It does seem absurd to pre- pare land by heavy manuring and careful digging, and yet only work it for two months or so. This, of course, refers to a short season crop such as lettuce, early beans, peas and such like, which will have finished their season of usefulness by mid-Ju- ly, and from this time on throughout summer and fall in many, many gar- dens, the ground occupied by these vegetables remains idle. In addition to the untidy appearance of the gar- den created by allowing the old vines or plants to remain, it is a most wasteful procedure to allow a single foot of ground to stand unoccupied, as by making successive sowings we may keep the ground working for us right up to frost. Imagine being without snap beans after mid-July, when we may enjoy them until the vines are killed by frost. To accomplish this we make successional sowings at intervals of three weeks until late July and in some sections up to mid-August. There may be a little danger attend- ing the latest sowing, but such a risk is well worth taking and it is a sim- | ple matter to protect crops suscepti- | ble to frost by covering them for a | few nights with old sacking or even | paper, as it does not require very | heavy covering to throw off a little i frost, and if we can bring the plants . safely through the earliest visitation | of Jack Frost the plants may be im- ' mune for several weeks thereafter. If we except the grower for mar- i ket, Bush - Lima beans are not as a | rule sown more than once, but in this | vicinity we can sow them up to late { June or even early in July and depend on receiving a nice late crop. We cannot refer too often to the advisability of having young beets { for table use during the entire season. There is no comparison in flavor and | rubber companies is sending out a tenderness between these half-grown | roots and the fully matured article. ! To enjoy them always at their best, successional sowings must be made every two weeks or so up to late Ju- ly. This also applies to the small ear- ly carrots, such as Amsterdam Fore- ing and Golden Ball. Cabbage for fall and winter use should be sown toward the end of May or first week in June. From this sow- ing good plants should be ready for planting out during July, to follow some early crop. Planting at this | time, try to have them set out follow- ing or just preceding a good shower, otherwise the plants will require to be watered at planting and perhaps fol- lowing, according to lecal conditions. Cauliflower may also be sown at the same time, but use early varieties, such as Dry Weather and Best Early. When planting out cabbage or other members of this family during sum- : mer the leaves should always be cut | half back, and the plants will recov- er much quicker from the shock or check received during the operation of transplanting. If you have never i grown Chinese cabbage do not omit | to give it a trial this season, but do not sow the seed until August; sown earlier the plants will bolt to seed without forming heads. Celery, as a rule, follows some ear- ly crop, such as beans or peas, and the seed for this planting should be sown towards the end of May. The seed bed if sown in the open) must be made quite fine, though if only a lim- ited number of plants are required it may be sown in a wooden flat or pan, using a very light and porous com- post. The seed should only have the merest covering of fine soil, not more than one-eighth of an inch, shading it from the bright sun so that fre- quent watering will not be necessary until the seed germinates. ‘When an inch or so high, transplant to other flats, cold frame or in a spe- cially prepared bed in the open, spac- ing them fully two inches apart. The soil should be rich, and it is an excel- lent plan to have a layer of old rotted manure or leaf mold two inches thick and two inches under the surface. The seedlings will quickly send their roots into this cool and nourishing sand and growth thereafter will be rapid and sturdy, and they will form a mass of fibrous roots which will later insure safe transplanting to fot permanent position in the gar- en. When not limited to space, sweet corn should be available from July until frost. This, of course, entails successional sowings, starting from late April (according to location) and sowing at intervals of ten days to two weeks, according to the varieties used. When using one variety only, such as Golden Bantam—that sweet- est of all sugar corn—a sowing should be made every ten days, but if we sow a first early, mid-season and late variety each time, then an interval of three weeks should elapse between the sowing, the last being made about the middle of July. Kohl Rabi, a comparatively short season vegetable, is now becoming very popular and it well deserves a place in all gardens. Small sowings should be made at intervals of two or three weeks until early July. It is fairly hardy and will stand a little frost in the fall. The roots should be used while small. Lettuce, our most important salad plants should be on our table every day throughout the summer and well into the fall. Therefore, to accom- plish this, repeated sowings must be made at regular intervals. In the ear- ly spring we will sow such varieties as Earliest Wayahead. Black Seed- ed Tennisball and Big Boston, or when a particularly hard-headed small lettuce is desired, Tom Thumb will fill the bill. Okra, or gumbo, is a desirable addi- tion to the vegetables grown in the home garden. It has been grown and used for years in the South, where it is found in almost every garden, and is increasing in popularity in the North. : In regions where the growing sea- sons are very short, okra plants may be started in a hotbed or greenhouse and transplanted ‘o the open ground. Okra is easily grown on any good soil, and a few plants will be sufficient for the average family. s I ins
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