RIT
Democratic: atdmom
Bellefonte, Pa., May 16, 1919.
THE HERO.
It is not the deed but the danger
That tests the hero's soul;
And the songs of strength are not so rare
As the sign ef self-control.
A torch, a cheer and a niche of fame
For the man who met the foe.
But here’s to the man who fail or win
In a stress we did not know.
Some are cheered by a nation’s honor
And some by a steadfast friend;
And some by the light of a woman's love
Till the strain and strife have end.
And after the story is writ and read
The heart of the world is stirred.
But here’s to the man who toiled alone
And whose heart was never heard.
There is joy in a fateful struggle—
If the watchers understand.
There is joy in the lift of another's load
By a loyal heart or hand.
But some things fall to the lot of life,—
And ever it must be so,—
Some no others can understand,
And some no one can know.
In the long, long run we reckon
Each man at his social worth;
With a partial glance at his circumstance
And the stars above his birth.
But under the breast that stands the test
The heart tides ebb and flow.
Then here’s to the one whose duty’s done
In a stress we do not know.
—Selected.
A BORROWED MAN.
“I'm sorry I can’t lend you a whole
man, Mr. Meager; but I haven't a reg-
ular mechanic to spare. Benton here
is the best I can do.”
The young fellow in question, as
Mr. Rothwell and the visitor crossed
the shop toward him, looked up to see
that he was observed with a glance of
disappointrent by the borrower. Mr.
Meager himself was a large, big-
handed person; the small statured
Benton scemed especially insignifi-
cant by comparison.
Mr. Meager’s evident dissatisfac-
tion at getting the loan of a puny ap-
prentice instead of a sturdy journey-
man attracted the notice of Benton's
employer.
“A lifting jack isn’t much for size,”
Mr. Rothwell chuckingly encouraged;
“but it does the work, vou know.”
Mr. Meager’s present need appear-
ed too urgent for argument. He
quickly effected the formal loan of
Benton for a day’s emergency.
“As you say,” he agreed, “I won't
have to pay the same for him as for
2 man; so I won't look for so much.
I wouldn’t see much, no matter how I
looked, eh?” he laughed, with anoth-
er glance at the skimpily built Ben- |
ton.
Benton, resuming his work as the
two men left him, did not take the
good-natured fling too much to heart.
“But I wish I could fatten up or do
something,” he sighed, after a while:
“so that Mr. Rothwell could see more
in me—and I could see more in my
pav envelope.”
Not so very long ago Benton had
been offered a store position where
the pay would have been better than
he was getting, and nearer meeting
the needs at home. But he and his
mother had decided that he should
stick to his chosen trade and hope for
promotion. That seemed long com-
ing. Benton wondered now whether his
employer shared in Mr. Meager's low
estimate of his value.
After dinner Benton reported to
Mr. Meager, over at the Alco mill. A
roof alteration on the sun-baked ridge
of that five-story structure was the
work in hand. The Cecil Manufactur-
ing company. a young concern. had |
rented the two upper floors of the
building and was planning to put its
wool sorters under the old ventilator.
A better light was needed for the
sorting howeve~. The old slat win-
dows of the ventilator might have
been replaced with glass: but the big.
box-like thing was in a bad state of
repair. The mill owners hit on the
cheaper expedient of taking it down
and setting flat sashes in the roof,
greenhouse fashion.
The sashes were all ready, the sup-
porting timbers cut and fitted for a
“lightning change.” Mr. Meager urg-
ed haste upon his helpers, in order
that an opening for possible rain
might not be left over night.
Benton, in his eagerness to be up
and doing, was first to climb the lad-
der from the top floor into the ventil-
ator. In his hurry he slipped clatter-
ingly on the tin roof as he stepped
out. and nearly took the long slide
and a five-story fling from the eaves
to the mill-yard far below.
Saunders, the regular mechanic
making up Mr. Meager’s present
crew, shook his head disapprovingly
at the mishap.
“When I was young they didn't
start lads in at the trade on such a
dangerous job,” he grumbled. “Ought
to have a full-grown journeyman to
put this through, anyway, instead of
a boy.”
Benton grimaced: but he did not
waste time in explaining that he was
3 fairly old hand at the business of
carpentering. He set to work rinping
away the pitted tin flashing and bot-
tom conrse of boards from around the
base of the ventilator. And while he
pursued the operation of pulling off
the “stockings” of the old structure
Saunders sawed through one of the
corner posts. Mr. Meager intended to
handle the square little house some-
what as he would a tree, first felling
it and then lowering it over the roof
into the r~ill vard, where unskilled la-
bor would suffice to cut it into kind-
ling.
After making a clear opening be-
tween the ventilator and the roof,
Benton descended the ladder into the
mill room and fetched up a long rope
for the lowering process. Mr Mea-
ger went below at the same time in
search of a couple laborers to lend a
hand.
Saunders, after sawing through a
second post, rested a moment and
contemplatively felt the edge of his
saw while he audibly pondered the
wisdom of weakening the structure
any further before making fast an
anchor rope.
“Hey! it must be gettin’ supper
time already,” he suddenly suggested,
chewing hungrily at the end of his
Ta) mustache as he cast a glance up-
ward.
The night surely enough appeared
to be falling. Out of what had liter-
ally been a clear sky, heavy banks of
clouds were now piling up. A faint
flash of distant lightning glittered in
the west as Benton followed the jour-
neyman’s gaze; and a far-away rum-
ble of thunder came rolling from it.
Mr. Meager returned just then and
surveyed the horizon
“Mostly wind,” he hopefully prophe-
sied. “Hustle! We’ll get this chick-
en coop down before any rain comes.”
low. The bare-legged ventilator was
no protection against rain, if rain
came. But once it was out of the way,
the fitted timbers of the new lights
could be set quickly and the sash tem-
porarily nailed in to make the hole
tight.
“Play a stream of ice water on my
dered. If I can keep my tools cool I
can run time backward.”
While Saunders hurried to make
his boast good in some measure, Mr.
Meager set about the business of
making fast the lowering rope to the
ridge pole which ran through the cen-
ter of the ventilator. Obedient to his
orders, Benton went after the rope,
which lay off to one side on the roof.
Somewhere in the universe, as he
started off, the plug from a mighty
reservoir of air must have been sud-
denly pulled out. There was, just at
that moment, a bursting clap of thun-
| paper came scurrying on high from
the roof with a shriek.
i pact and gulped aloud as the wind
sucked away his breath. Letting his |
| cap go, he made a swift clutch at the
hold on in fear of his life.
tin of the roof, heaving and crack-
ling, was hard put to it to keep its
place. And the big ventilator, de-
pending upon a leg and a half, sway-
ed and strained, with a sound of splin-
tering supports.
Then Benton sensed an even fiercer
gust coming. It was upon him in-
stantly, with a louder scream, anoth-
er clap of thunder and a blinding flash
that upset what sense he was trying
to preserve.
It seemed as if the very mill cower-
ed under the blow. The four-square.
up-sticking ventilator bent, swayed
and cringed. Then, with a crack. it
collapsed. Flinging Benton away as
its splitting legs crumped, it crashed
upon its side and slid off a dozen feet.
Benton, rolling over in a wild daze.
followed it down the roof and fetched
up in its arms.
Climbing to his feet with the stag-
ders at his side.
“The boss!” the journeyman gasp-
ed. “He’s caught underneath.”
Mr. Meager, sitting with a leg
astride the ventilator window sill and
(had gone down with his ship. One
i leg was inside, the other under the
big box. The extending cornice had
| prevented the full weight from crush-
1 ing his limb, but’ he was pinned tight-
i ly. Desperate and futile efforts to
| free himself showed that he was a
| prisoner until lévers should lift the
i wreck.
| And there was no time for levers
i now. “Quick!” he shouted. as the
| ventilator started to slide down the
| roof again before the rising wind.
| “Anchor this thing!”
i Benton and the journeyman turned
i together and bounded toward the pile
{ of rope. Saunders picked up the top-
i most coil while Benton snatched at an
under one. “The ridgepole!” Benton
i commanded his mate. “Quick!”
. They worked fast. At any minute
| there might be imperative need for
i everybody to crouch and hold on for
bis own life. A wilder rush of wind
| was coming.
{ Saunders was a step nearer the
; ridgepole. Leaving that end of the
i operation te him, Benton turned back
: to the ventilator, bending low as he
rapidly ran the spare slack of the
, rope through his hands. There was
. vastly too much of the cable for the
. present business.
| Scrouged down by the force of the
| gale, he scrambled back over a couple
j of laps in the tin roof and reached a
channel that led from the gaping hole
to the ventilator. Then, setting one
straight down toward the escaping
“coop.”
Praying for time to use up the
rope away through his hands.
Benton had worked with the iourney-
man long enough to have ccnfidence
in his skill. But would there be
time?
The runaway ventilator was already
half-way
doomed saw-horse, tossed and bump-
ed by the wind. Benton saw it reach
the eaves, turn its “horse legs” des-
pairingly upward for a breath and
storm which had broken a record heat
spell with the greater record of a tor-
nado climax.
lowing the horse over the eaves as he
reached it.
splintered post end, still drawing in
that interminable slack which lay be-
hind him.
The thirty feet diminished to twen-
ued to slide.
to such a pitch that for a moment
Benton could only hold his own.
The twenty feet narrowed to ten
while he strove to steady himself
Breathing hard as he tightened his
grip, he looked past the bulk down
over the eaves to the littered ground
of the mill yard and the whirlpools of
stray papers in the gale. The ten feet
coming fast!
Benton might still have had a
chance by falling flat on the roof to
escape the wind and running away
the slack of the line before it was too
late. But as the ventilator slid on.
now to within five feet, then four and
anxiously. |
There was no other course to fol-
saw here, boy,” Saunders jocularly or- !
der up in the blackening sky; then a
rush of dust and panicky scraps of :
the mill yard. A wild gale cut across |
Benton doubled up under the im- |
boards of a ventilator window. For
an instant he could do no more than |
Even the |
gering clumsiness of a man bewilder- |
ed by the onslaught of an ocean wave, !
Benton found the spluttering Saun- |
holding on hard when the crash came, |
foot before the other as a boy slides !
over a glassy surface of ice, he shot
slack, he continued to run the spare |
Saun-
ders, he knew, would be doing the
| same thing with all possible speed as |
he had made fast at the ridgepole.
down the roof as Benton !
started. And just ahead of it was a!
then disappear in the long fall—an
incident in the shrieking bedlam of a
But Benton had no thought now of |
unroofed houses, scudding signs and
battered pedestrians below. The ven-
tilator was within thirty feet of fol-
Reeling up against it, he |
made a quick hitch of the rope over a
ty in a flash as the ventilator contin- !
became eight, then six—the drop was
| three, the white face of Mr. Meager -
peered out through the bottom of his
prison!
i A corner of the ventilator reached
! the edge of the roof. Rallying des-
| perately and bracing himself as best
i he could Benton made another quick
‘turn of his rope over the post end—
| and still a third.
. The slack of the line did not run
j now. Gritting his teeth and shutting
| his eyes, Benton threw himself back-
| ward and held on.
A loud cry behind him rose above
| the gale, like a wail of despair. Then
there was a lurch and 2 jerk.
| But the lurch was only the letting
{ down of the ventilator as the protrud.
{ing eaves of its roof cleared the edge
i of the drop; and the jerk was the
| tautening of the rope which had been
made surely fast above. The loud
t cry was Saunders’ quick call for the
| belated laborers te hurry.
i For a moment longer, such was the
| mounting madness of the storm Ben-
ton was obliged to hane on alone.
i Then, with infinite care, Saunders and
! his aids fetched down another rope
i and levers. With the help of these,
{ they loosed the contractor. Though
even more bruised when the full
| weight of the ventilator settled upon
i his limb, he was still whole.
The storm wore itself out soon
afterward; and in the subseauent
i peace of a sunny, cooler afternoon,
| the work on the roof hole was prose.
cuted rapidly. With the overdone
boss eliminated, Saunders took
charge; and Benton staved with him
until, some time next day. the enrage.
ment came to an end.
Then Benton took back to his own
i employer the money due from Mr,
Meager for his services. together with
a note from one contractor to the
other.
“Humph!” Mr. Rothwell muttered
as he counted over what seemed to he
‘an extra large amount of money.
‘ “Meager has made 2 mistake 2nd naid
{ too much for you. I guess that ad-
i venture on the roof upset his calculat-
{ ing machinery.”
Then Mr. Rothwell re-" the note—
once and again. Fina. with a
| thoughtful pucker of his line. he
i handed it to Benton.
| __ “That was a man vou lent me.” Mr.
| Meager’s note said. “I am paving you
| accordingly. And I'll be ~lad to take
| Benton with me at regular iourney-
| man wages if you don’t want him.”
| Benton looked up from the note
, with a little flush of gratification. Mr.
i Rothwell was still musing as he fin-
| gered the money.
i “I guess we'll let Meager’s mistake
{ stand.” he declared, with an approv-
ing glance at Benton. “If he can af-
| ford to promote vou so can I."
The American Boy.
Edith Cavell’s Charity.
| London.—“I expected my sentence,
{but I am glad to die for my country.
| In the sight of eternity, I know now it
1s not enough to love only your own
i country. You must love all, and not
| hate any.”
Those were among the last words
of Edith Cavell, the British nurse who
was executed by the Germans in Bel-
gium. The churchman to whom they
were spoken, the Rev. H. S. T. Gahan,
has just returned to England from
Brussels, where with his wife he re-
maired throughcut the war.
Aided by a German Protestant mil-
itary chaplain, Mr. Gahan received
: permission, he says, to see Miss Ca-
vell in prison on the night before the
death sentence was executed.
“With the chaplain,” Mr. Gshan
said, “I went to the cell door and it
opened and Miss Cavell stood in the
doorway. I had gone for a very try-
ing scene. There stood my friend—
looking as calmly sweet as anyone
could look. She was unchanged, ex-
cept that she appeared better for the
enforced rest in prison. The warder
Withirew and we were not interrunt-
ed.
“I remember practically all she
said. She was thankful for the quiet
time, as her life had been such a bur-
den and rush in many respects. She
was not sorry to go, for her life had
contained so much trial that she was
weary beyond endurance. “They have
Ysted me very kindly here,”” she
said.
The little communion vessels were
placed on a chair and after the serv-
ice Mr. Gahan recited “Abide With
Me,” Miss Cavell joining under her
breath.
“Then I felt,” the minister contin-
ued, “that I must not stay much long-
er, for I had been there an hour. I
stood up and said, ‘Good-bye,’ and we
were face to face. She was looking
slightly strained, but nothing more.
| We shook hands and smiled, and I
added, ‘We shall meet again. Good-
bye.’ »
The great crime of hurrying the ex-
ecution, according to Mr. Gahan, be-
longed to the military governor of
{ Brussels, who would not wait to com-
i municate with headquarters.
| Zigzaggers.
“A police court isn’t all grim and
sordid,” remarked Judge White the
other day. “Sometimes something
i really funny happens. Not so very
i long ago a chauffeur was brought in
after having run down a man.
“Did you know that if you struck
this pedestrian he would be serious-
‘ly injured,” I asked.
+ “Yes sir,” replied the chauffeur.
“Then why didn’t you zigzag your
car and miss him?”
“He was zigzagging himself and
out-guessed me, your honor,” was the
i answer.—Pittsburgh Sun.
Trees and shrubbery planted in
soil that has been accumulating for
; hundreds of years on the great wall
of China are in a thriving condition,
{ some of them having grown to a
height of twelve to eighteen feet.
This method of beautifying the great
. wall was an outgrowth of the move-
| ment for the re-forestation of the
| country started some time ago with
- | government sanction under the direc-
| tion of foreign experts. The drive-
i way on the great wall is considered
i very much improved by the trees.
Bobby’s Break.
{A lady writes: One of my dinner
| guests raved over the relish I made
' last summer.
i “And it keeps all winter in that
| stone jar?” she asked.
“Yes,” put in Bobby, “if we don’t
have too much company.”
NUT TREE CULTURE.
Down in Louisiana they tell of an
old colored man who had always
worked hard at raising cotton and
corn on his little property and man-
aged to give his family a fair living
during his days of greatest activity.
Now, however, that he is old and all
crippled up with rheumatism and no
longer able to work, six Pecan trees
which he planted bring his family
three times as large an income as he
was able to obtain when laboring. The
same story may come true in Lancas-
ter county some day, especially if the
price of tobacco keeps dropping.
WASHINGTON PLANTED NUT TREES
THAT ARE STANDING TODAY.
Perhaps the reader has visited the
George Washington estate at Mt. Ver-
non. Then recall the three most
stately and beautiful trees there, with
their dark, green foliage and cool
shade. They are pecan trees, which
were presented to George Washing- |
ton by Jefferson and planted Whee!
ey!
they stand, by Washington.
stand as evidence of most beautiful
and vigorous trees, that have been
producing delicious nuts through an
era marking the first President down
to the time of the greatest nation on
earth.
PLANT PEDIGREED NUT TREES.
Drop a nut in the ground and no
one knows until the offspring bears
whether it will be hardy enough for
the climate, whether it will be a small
cr large yielder and whether it will
produce small or large nuts or be
thick or thin shelled. Get the pedi-
greed stock.
The United States is importing over
thirty-twe million dollars’ worth of
nuts 2 year and this has been a
steady increase.
Why not grow more nuts? The
proposition is so easy that many men
look askance at it while others never
thought of it.
Nut trees require little attention:
scale will not thrive on them, do not
require pruning and many of the vari-
eties will bear long after the man
who has planted them has passed
away and is being forgotten.
NUT ORCHARDS PAY AS GOOD AS
FRUIT ORCHARDS.
Seedling nut trees seem to be
freakish and unreliable, as they do
not possess the strength and vigor
of trees propagated by grafting. Even
those trees grown from nuts gather-
ed from parent trees which are har-
dy and productive cannot be depend-
ed upon to produce satisfactory nuts;
the size and quality are generally in-
ferior.
Farmers who are dissatisfied with
their profits from the field alone
could add considerably to their income
by planting nut trees along the field
boundaries or by putting out a small
orchard. Fruit growing has develop- |
ed into one of the most profitable in-
dustries, whereas nut growing has not
been undertaken on an extensive
scale in any part of the country, not-
withstanding it is as profitable as or-
charding and in addition they are far
more desirable when the relative re-
sistance to disease and attacks of in-
sects is considered.
THE BLACK WALNUT.
Unlike fruit, nuts are not perisha-
ble. They do not have to be picked,
packed and hurriedly rushed te mar-
ket. Suppose a farmer were to plant
black walnuts. When would the trees
bear and what would they produce?
Based on accurate figures an orchard
of improved (budded or grafted)
black walnuts at the age of ten years
ought to give a gross return of from
one hundred to two hundred dollars
an acre. After they begin bearing
their yield increases very rapidly.
They can be grown on waste land that
cannot be cultivated, along fences or
where it is not profitable to plant
trees requiring c-ltivation. Would
vou like to have an income of $10,000
a year, then plant 1000 trees of the
improved varieties of black walnuts.
The walnut is a fool proof tree and
its only fatal enemy is the axe. If
vou wait long enough before apply-
ing the axe the wood will represent
big money. An amateur can crack
out fifty per cent. of whole half ker-
nels from an improved nut.
NUT TREES AS MEMORIALS.
You have heard of the proposal to
plant a tree for every American sol-
dier who crossed the ocean to fight
for ideals and the liberation of the op-
pressed. I want te ask that these
trees that we are going to plant shall
be nut trees. I have seen a picture
of a mother and her two small sons
planting a tree for a soldier. But the
tree was a silver maple, symbol of
beauty, uselessness and short life.
Not the symbol for a soldier. If it
had been a sturdy black walnut, shag-
bark hickory or pecan it would have
been equally beautiful, much longer
lived and have borne each year a crop
of useful fruit the gathering of which
would have revived fresh memories of
the soldier in whose honor it was
planted.
THE PECAN.
The pecan is regarded as a south-
ern tree. At their Lancaster county
nursery pecans are being grown that
for size, quality and productiveness
make them successful rivals to the
best varieties in the south. At least
six varieties are grown at this nurse-
ry. These are of the thin-shelled va-
riety and the kernels are easily ex-
tracted. quite different from the kind
that used to be sold in the stores
years ago. Pecan trees are rapid
growers and will reach six to eight
feet in height in one season’s growth
from the bud. Budded northern pe- {ture will start a great educational '
cans often start bearing in the third
year.
THE ENGLISH WALNUT.
It is also known as the Persiona
walnut and it is sometimes referred
to as the Dutch nut. It is believed
that the first English walnut trees in
this country were planted either at
Lancaster, Pa., or at Germantown,
Philadelphia. They were introduced
by early German settlers, who brought
“either seed nuts or young trees with
, them from home.
The tree is hardy and long-lived and
| sometimes bears in the second year
(budded and grafted varieties), but it
requires about fifteen years for seed-
ling. Trees planted by Mr. Jones in
1913 and 1914 bore a half bushel of
nuts last year. Mr. Jones grows six
distinct varieties. He buds and grafts
the English walnut on the black wal-
nut, for the reason that it produces a
hardier tree, as the latter has a better
and more extensive root system.
VERY LARGE NUTS.
The English walnuts grown by Mr.
Jones are immense. I brought sev-
eral along Thome and placed them
alongside of those sold in a local
store, The X.ancaster county grown
rut actually was twice as large. I'm
not decrying: the local storeman, but
merely pointing out the possibility of
a market for the home grown nut of
the improved type. To those whe re-
gard the growing of the English wal-
nut in this latitude as a “joke,” Prof.
Fagan, of State College, points out
that there are five thousand of these
trees growing in Pennsylvania.
THE HA RD SHELL ALMOND.
sons to learn that Mr. Jones is grow-
{ing almonds.
'place that the peach can be grown
(and will furnish a nice grade of nuts
| for home use.
| THE FILBERTS.
cording to MEr. Jones.
large bush or small tree
their large Iuaxuriant foliage are very
ornamental.
in his yard.
THE LAN CASTER HEART NUT.
tis a very reliable nut tree, makes
rapid and la>curiant growth, and is an
early and prolific bearer. It is a
“Sport” or wariation from the com-
mon Japan walnut. It equals the
poplars, maples and willows in ex-
treme rapid grrowth, and makes a very
stiking and beautiful specimen on
the lawn ox house grounds. The
cracking quality of the nut is very
good, the kernel simply drops out
whole. The grafted tree bears usual-
ly the secor=d year after planting.
The nuts are borne in clusters of from
five to fifteen: nuts.
: A NEW NUT.
Mr, Jones predicts a great future
for the nut known as the shagbark
hickory, It is the result of scientific
improvement of nature’s course. It is
a hybrid or cross between the shag-
bark and bitternut and combines the
good qualities of both. The nut of the
ishaghark hickory is large, has not
bitterness and the soft shell makes it
(easy to extract the kernel. The tree
“grows from six to eight feet in 2 sea-
son,
Another hybred grown by Mr.
Jones is a cross between chinuapin
and the sweet chestnut.
these methods of crossing, grafting
and budding: wonderful results have
followed. The end is not in sight.
The future has possibilities undream-
ed of by the person who has not fol-
lowed and studied nut tree culture.
A BIG MARKET FOR NUTS.
The time “was when nuts were seen
is using them in salad dressing, sand-
| Wiches, candy and other combina-
‘tions, On account of their high pro-
(tein value they are as nourishing as
‘meat. With the growing scarcity of
‘meat nuts will gradually come into
(use as a substitute. The time is com-
{Ing when nuts will take the place of
'beefsteak, The commercial value of
“the nut is opening up a new field. The
i people will have to waken up if the
(demand is tc be supplied. There is
‘no logical reason why $32,000,000
'worth of nuts should be imported.
| Provided you don’t want to get into
the business om a large scale, almost
every family can grow a tree or two
for home use. Plant them in front of
| your premises.
If there were nut trees growing in
place of the hnudreds of maples, in
Lititz, if the trees of the Springs
nut trees, think of the pleasure and
profit that this generation would be
reaping. If mo change is made in the
| tree planting program the next gen-
eration will be no better off than this
one~Lititz Record.
State Loses $650,000 from Hog
Cholera,
|
| Secretary of Agriculture Fred.
Rasmussen, and State Veterinarian
Dr. C.J. Marshall have planned the
greatest educational campaign over
proposed in this country to check
the loss to the people of Pennsylva-
nia from hog cholera, a preventable
disease,
Secretary Rasmussen is a strong
believer that prevention is better
than cure and that if you want to
stop an object or disease it is better
to be in front than behind.
Reports show that on January first
there were in this State about one
million and a quarter of hogs valued
at over twenty-four million dollars.
It is regrettable to learn that it is es-
timated that the farmers and people
of this State sustained a loss to the
hog industryy from hog cholera last
year of $655,000.
. It has been found that hog cholera
in this State is largely spread by hogs
shipped for feeding purposes from
outside of the State or from one part
of the State to another. This enor-
mous loss can largely be prevented by
treating the hogs with hog cholera
serum, At a time when hogs are so
extremely high, owing to the short-
ageof fats im the world, itis ex-
be made to save the hog industry of
Pennsylvania from this loss.
The State Department of Agricul-
| campaign for the prevention of the
spread of hog cholera. This campaign
(will be supported by the Extension
| Service of The Pennsylvania State
College, the County Farm Bureaus,
Ls local veterinarians and the hog '
| raisers and shippers.
Resurrection of the Pig.
| A Boy's Essay—“For the pig to die
{is to be born again to a sphere of
| greater utility. When we get out of
bed we brush our hair and clothes
with its bristles; for our breakfast |
we have a crisp, savory slice of ba-
con, or maybe it’s sausage. When we
arrive home for our dinner we find
some tender chops awaiting us, and |
they make us feel as strong as a prize
fighter. And we dream of bacon,
pork chops and sausage, and the cause
of all this is the pig.”
Perhaps it will surprise many per- !
They will grow any .
The filbext does very well here, ac- |
They make a |
and with |
They generally bear a |
good crop of nuts. Mr. Henry Heiser- |
man, of Lititz, has a bearing filbert '
. Mr. Jones has been very successful |
In improving: the native butternut. By :
jon the family table only around :
Christmas time. Now the housewife
your house instead of the shade tree
|if you have no other place. Get some- :
(thing of value out of the trees on
grounds had been partly planted in
tremely important that every effort |
CLEANLINESS OF ANIMALS.
Some people believe that animals
prefer uncleanliness, at least that
they do not care. Most people have
seen the house cat “doll up” by the
use of her tongue and paws, but they
would be surprised to learn that most
other animals, too, prefer to keep
clean. I have heard more than one
stockman say that cows would stand
all night rather than lie down on bad-
ly soiled bedding. Sometimes horses
all but speak their gratitude to the
keeper who curries them. Dogs, too,
especially among the house pets, gen-
erally show aversion to filth. I have
known a fox terrier and a cocker
spaniel who would invariably wipe
- muddy paws on the door-mat before
entering the house. Of course, they
had been trained, but ghey learned
with significant ease. The terrier
| once worried himself nearly sick over
a smear of green paint on his pretty
coat.
All animals of the cat family use
i the tongue for toilet purposes, wash-
ing the face by moistening the paws
and ruhbing them over the eyes and
i nose. The prickles on the tongue
! make a good comb, and enable puss to
polish Ler coat very satisfactorily.
These prickles (or papellae) on the
lion’s tongue are nearly a quarter of
. an inch long and can be used with the
severity of a blacksmith’s rasp, when
the animal so desires. The rabbit
washes its face just as the cat does;
and mice and bats also rely greatly
on licking.
The honey-bee carries its comb in
the fore leg and uses it to clean the
antennae. Some beetles are similarly
equipped with a comb, which forms a
deep notch protected by a spine at the
lower end of the front tibia. Flies of
all sorts use the fine fur on their legs
as a comb for their wings and bodies.
Owls, herons, cormorants and other
birds use the foot for a comb, the
claw of the middle toe. Larks and
some ducks have a saw-like blade
running along the inner side of the
claw. .
Snakes soak themselves; elephants
dust themselves and enjoy their bath.
Buffaloes, tigers and some bears like
to wallow; the polar bear likes his
frigid dive, and spends half his time
in the icy arctic waters. Monkeys
scratch themselves continually, and
- this is more an effort at self-currying
than a search for parasites. The
horse, both wild and domesticated,
! likes his roll. That wild beasts attach
considerable importance to ablutions
. and drinking is evidenced by their be-
havior toward each other at the
“water hole” when they are seldom
attacked by others not of their own
kind.
Nearly all birds believe in personal
neatness; some take great pains to
pluck out with their bills all frayed
or ill-shaped feathers. They separate
their feathers and carefully pick out
all particles of refuse. Pigeons. cock-
i atoos and larks like their bath in the
form of a copious rain: game birds
and poultry prefer the dust bath: but
| the sparrow loves to combine these
styles—he takes a dry dust shampoo,
then plunges into the water. :
Close observation will show that
practically all insects and animals
have some way of preserving cleanli-
ness. The observer will be struck by
the pride that most of our dumb
friends manifest. From the prancing
race-horse and strutting peacock
down to the humble bat. each has
some degree of pride. Watch the care
with which the butterfiv folds its
beautiful wings before going to sleep;
some of us are not nearlv so careful
of our clothes, on retiring.—OQur
Dumb Animals. .
The Feding of a Great City.
The world generally ignores its tru-
ly great accomplishments.
What, for instance, is more won-
derful than the way a great city is
fed?
New York city rarely has a supply
of food on hand to last more than a
week.
If the great organization which has
been built up to keep New York sup-
plied with food were suddenly wiped
out, the city would starve to death in
seven days.
The feeding of New York is accom-
plished entirely through private en-
terprises. Everything has to be fig-
ured out to a nicety. Certain men
know just how much milk is needed;
others how much beef: still others
how many pounds of bacon. They
make it their business to see that
these supplies are ¢n hand when they
are needed.
Here are a few of the items which
{ must be laid on New York’s doorstep
| every morning:
Sixteen hundred head of cattle, 1,-
| 688 calves, 2,147 sheep, 1,933 lambs
and 795 swine, a total of 8.163 head.
| She daily calls for 366,200 pounds
I of poultry.
- She must have 175,000 pounds of
bacon and 24,000 pounds of ham.
. Her daily dairy product requisition
| calls for 300,000 pounds of butter,
1 150,000 pounds of cheese, a half mil-
| lion dozen of eggs, two and a half
! million quarts of milk and 240,000
. quarts of ice cream.
i She eats almost two million pounds
| of potatoes each day, 100,000 pounds
| of onions, about 70,000 pounds each
i of beans and peas, and 140,000 quarts
of tomatoes. :
i Among her favorite fruits are can-
! taloupe, watermelon, grapefruit and
| pineapple, of which she eats from
{ 10,000 to 150,000 daily.
i She consumes . 340,000 quarts of
i peaches, 150,000 quarts of strawber-
| ries, 130,000 dozen oranges and 18,000
dozen lemons.
Every twenty-four hours she needs
, 140,000 pounds of coffee, 15,000
{ pounds of tea, 450,000 pounds of fish
i and 4,000,000 loaves of bread.—Re-
! formatory Record.
For All They're Worth.
“If you don’t love Jack, why don’t
. you tell him so.”
I “Well, he sends me flowers and
i takes me to dinners, you know,
I and"
1 . ’
| “But gracious! I don’t see how
| you can play with his affections that
| way.”
{ . “Play with them? I call that work-
i ing them.”
Conscientious.
Shopper—Do these goods shrink?
' Clerk—Not so much as I would
from telling you they didn’t, madam,
if they did. ;
oe?
“0D