. Merely to ask in casual way
Pemorraic; \atdgom.
S—
Bellefonte, Pa., August 29, 1919.
SCA BRE,
THE MAN WHO DIDN'T SUCCEED.
They sing of the men who build the mills
And girdle the earth with steel;
‘Who fill the hour and wield the power
That moulds the public weal
Honor to them that in honor do
The work that the world must need,
And yet in chief I hold a brief
For the man who didn’t succeed.
Tis not to excuse the indolent;
No plea for the down and out;
Nor specious rot condemning what
The leaders are about.
Of those who chance to read,
For fairer view, and kinder, too,
Of the man who didn’t succeed.
His house is small, his table light;
His family must endure
The snubs and sneers of the buccaneers
Those debts fall on the poor.
Yet his is a home and no hotel,
His wife is a wife indeed,
There's nothing above his children’s love
To the man who didn’t succeed.
Admitting it’s true that he did not make
The most of his talents ten,
He won no pelf nor raised himself
At the cost of his fellow men.
His hands are clean, his heart is white,
His honor has. been his creed—
Now who are to say that he
Is the man who didn’t succeed ?
THE ORCHID.
(Concluded from last week).
At this moment Colonel Philip rode
up, mounted upon a powerful white
horse, and the interestng botanical
discussion came to an end. It was re-
sumed, however, on subsequent occa-
sions, for Alvarez demonstrated that
he was not the man to abandon a flor-
icultural adventure merely because
the affair presented difficulties. He
became a frequent visitor to the Gar-
diner home and was always welcom-
ed with cordiality by Sophia, who
said artlessly that she found him very
sympathetic. :
The Colonel, for his part, continued
to treat the young Spaniard with im-
peccable consideration and regard.
Alvarez had been presented to him by
his life-long friend, Judge Oldmaster;
therefore, the former was entitled to
all the privileges and immunities that
the latter might have claimed. Col-
onel Philip would have felt it a shame
and a degradation to betray the
slightest distrust of one whom cir-
cumstances had invested with the sa-
cred mantle of friendship. :
But though he conformed punctil-
iously to the code of his day—and it
was a very punctilious code—he could
not help but feel within himself those
impulses and emotions which no
amount of social discipline could erad-
icate from his heart. Beneath a calm
and imperturbable exterior he con-
cealed a dislike for the elegant Alvar-
ez that grew shortly to absolute ha-
tred. The cleverness of the man in
avoiding any suspicion of improprie-
ty, the cool impudence with which he
wooed the Colonel’s wife under the
Colonel’s very nose, aroused in the
latter a desire to destroy Alvarez bo-
dy and soul. In addition, Colonel
Philip was tortured abominably by
that baffling sense of Sophia’s mys-
tery, by the enigmatical smile that’
was like a veil upon her spirit. At
times he was consumed with horrid
fears and would have taken a grim
joy in questioning her outright con-
cerning her attitude toward Alvarez;
but that, of course, was impossible.
The tremendous strain of repres-
sion under which he now lived found
an outlet in but one channel. Since
he could not employ his strength, he
indulged his weakness. He would go
to town and play for days. His skill
at the gaming-table, however, had en-
tirely deserted him. He played reck-
lessly and lost large sums—almost
invariably to Alvarez, for the latter
alone would gamble for the stakes he
named. So overpowering did these
become, indeed, that one night Judge
Oldmaster, taking his courage in his
hands, veniured to suggest a limit to
the wagers—a thing without prece-
dent in the history of the Planter’s
Hotel. Colonel Philip, sedate and
self-possessed as always, agreed with-
out protest to the new ruling. In the
morning, however, when the game
concluded, he drew Alvarez aside and
proposed that they continue to play
alone.
“You, sir,” said the Colonel bland-
ly, “are a sportsman after my own
notion. Let us sit down together,
without limit or restriction, and see
whom good fortune will favor.”
“That is agreeable to me,” return-
ed Alvarez, meeting the Colonel's
penetrating glance with a cool smile,
“especially as fortune is, according to
the writers of mythology, a goddess
of great beauty.”
Thereupon the Colonel engaged a
private room and they began to play.
At the end of six hours the Colonel
had lost heavily. His composure,
however, had not been disturbed in
the least, nor apparently had he suf-
fered the slightest physical fatigue.
He sat like a man of iron, smoking
his little clay pipe, downing his occa-
sional glass of whiskey and gamblin
away thousands without the slightes
evidence of excitement. On the con-
trary, he at last threw down his cards,
and looking across at Alvarez, re-
marked politely that the game seem-
ed to be a trifle dull. “I suggest, sir,
that we eliminate the deal and cut for
stakes.”
Alvarez hesitated for the fraction
of an instant, then said softly: “I
am at your service, senor.”
So they cut for the stakes, wager-
ing huge sums upon the turn of a
single card, seeking to overwhelm
each other by the sheer magnificence
of their folly. It became not so much
a contest of riches as a trial of nerve,
They played all night, and Colonel
Philip, by systematically increasing
the size of his bets, won back all that
he had lost. At daybreak a recess | me
was taken and the Colonel, flinging
himself down on a couch, slept for an
hour.
When he awoke, Alvarez was sit-
ting at the table calmly shuffling the
cards. “If you are sufficiently refresh-
ed, senor,” he said, “we will continue
our game.”
“I regret to have kept you waiting,
sir!” responded the Colonel, and ris-
ing he walked stiffly to the table.
For a moment the two men faced
each other, their glances crossing
like swords. The unnamed, unmen-
tioned enmity between them had
come to its crisis, and both knew it.
It was no longer a game that they
were engaged in, but a desperate
combat which would end only in the
ruin of one or the other. Finally,
Alvarez drew a long breath and with
a graceful gesture of his hand said:
“Let us proceed, senor!”
They cut, and the Spaniard drew
the high card. From that time on
Ramon’s luck never waned. Occa-
sionally it fluctuated, but in the end
he won. The table before him was
soon heaped with the Colonel’s checks,
I. 0. U’s, and other promissory mem-
oranda. “The garlands of fortune
have white leaves,” said Alvarez, and
showed his teeth in a fleeting smile.
The Colonel thrust out his hand
slowly, covered the little pile of pa-
per, and crumpled it in his fingers.
His eyes burned.
“We are wasting time, sir!” he
said. “We are not bold enough!”
“What do you propose, senor?”
The Colonel’s face grew grim.
“Your own property on this river.
So do I. With the money that you
have won from me our possessions
are about equal. I will stake my en-
tire holdings, sir—with the exception
of the oak that bears the Gardiner or-
chid—against yours. I exclude the
oak for sentimental reasons. Other-
wise, my whole fortune is placed on
the board. Come sir. What do you
say?”
“It is a heroic wager,” replied Al-
varez steadily. “But since you have
suggested it—I accept!”
“Good!” exclaimed Colonel Philip,
and taking pencil and paper he wrote
out an informal deed of gift for his
ancestral estate, making reservation
only as to the oak-tree. This docu-
ment he placed in the center of the ta-
ble. Alvarez did likewise; then tak-
ing up the cards, he shuffled them
and passed them to the Colonel. The
latter deliberately drew one. It was
the jack of clubs.
. “That is excellent,” said Alvarez.
He extended his hand, looked straight
into the Colonel’s eyes and turned up
—the king of hearts.
Colcnel Philip Gardiner rose from
his chair with a dignity that would
have graced the coronation of an em-
peror. Placing his right hand upon
his breast, he bowed superbly to the
Spaniard: “You have won, sir. Our
game is finished. If you will call up-
on me tomorrow—shall we say be-
tween three and five?—I will make
arrangements to grant you full title
to my possessions. I wish you a very
good day, sir!”
So saying, Colonel Philip, holding
himself proudly erect, passed from
the room. He walked at his usual
leisurely pace down the stairs and in-
to the street. His dugout was wait-
ing for him at the town wharf. He
stepped into it and in due time reach-
ed home. He went directly to his
wife’s room and knocked on her door.
Sophia herself opened it. She was
in negligee, and her hair hung down
her back in two long braids. A won-
derful Spanish shawl of heavy silk
embroidered with crimson flowers,
fell from her shoulders to her feet.
She was inexpressibly beautiful.
When she saw her husband stand-
ing there upon the threshold, she drew
back with a little gasp.
“Philip!” she exclaimed. “What
has happened ? Why do you come to
me?’
The Colonel’s head sank upon his
breast. “I have lost everything,” he
said in a hollow voice.
“You have lost— I do not under-
stand.”
“Alvarez! I played with him—his
fortune against mine. He won. I
am a pauper, and you, Sophia—” he
raised his eyes and looked at her in
agony—“you are a pauper’s wife.”
She stood immobile, but her slim
brown hands clutched the flowered
shawl and drew it closer about her
body, as though to shut out the chill
that breathes from the very thought
of poverty.
“You played with Alvarez!” she
murmured. Then: “No. no! There
must be same mistake! It is too mon-
strous!”
“Tt is true. He owns everything—
house, lands, slaves, money: 1
She caught his arm. Her eyes, in-
serutable as always, searched his.
“Surely you have saved something!”
Colonel Philip smiled bitterly.
“Yes, I have saved something. I
have saved the great oak and the Gar-
diner orchid. God knows why, since
from the day it bloomed I have suf-
fered only misfortune.”
“There was a shadow prepared for
us,” said Sophia simply. “It has fall-
en.” She walked to the window and
stood gazing out at the sweet stretch
of lawn, all paved and mottled with
sunlight; at the noble trees tracing
their graceful patterns against the
sky; at the blue water sparkling be-
yond the fringe of marsh grass along
the shore.
“Sophia!” cried the Colonel at last.
She turned her head and looked at
him over her shoulder. “If you please,
Philip,” she said, “I should like to be
alone. I should like to remain in my
room for a while.” .
He drew himself up sharply. His
face hardened and a pallor came over
it, leaving it like stone. “Very well,
madam,” he answered, and with a
bow he walked from the room.
Going down stairs he summoned
the stable-boy, and ten minutes later
was galloping across the open coun-
try on his great white horse, with
such a dread countenance as to fright-
en the negroes at work in the fields.
That afternoon, at three o’clock,
Ramon Alvarez came in his elegant
barge, with somewhat the air of a
conqueror. The Colonel had not yet
returned, but Sophia, adorned in her
loveliest gown, and looking like an
angel who knew how to smile, receiv-
ed him in the drawing-room. :
“Ah, welcome, senor,” she said
softly. “I have been expecting you.”
He pressed her hand to his lips.
“Senora!” he exclamed. “You are not
angry with me? You do not hate
“Why should I hate my own coun-
tryman?”’
“But I have ruined your husband.
Has he not told you?”
“Yes, he has told me.”
“And still you do not— Ah, So-
.phia, can it be as I have dreamed?
Are you perhaps burned a little by
that same fire which consumes my
bosom?”
“What fire is that, Ramon?”
“You call me Ramon!
me—I am mad for you! Yes, yes, I|
love you, Sonia, my beautiful one] |
I have loved you from the first. I;
would do siything to possess you!”
“Not so loud! My husband may re-
turn at any moment.”
“Let hm come. He is nothing, I
have destroyed him. He is crushed
and broken. He will blow his brains
out in a week. Oh, Sophia, give me
your hands——" °
She placed her hands in his and
swayed toward him. There were or-
ange-blossoms in her hair. The per-
fume of them filled his nostrils.
“You have made one little mistake,
my Ramon. You have forgotten the
flower that grows upon the oak-tree.”
“What is a flower?”
“In this case,” she said. “it is more
than a flower. It is the luck piece of
his family; the thing in which he has
his faith. As long as it remains un-
picked, he will net be wholly crushed.
He will not despair. He will not—
die!” She lifted her face and looked
long at her lover. “You must win the
orchid;” she said, with an ardor that
thrilled him, “when you have done
that, you will have slain him as sure-
ly as though you had thrust a dagger
into his heart!”
“Sophia!” cried Alvarez triumph-
antly. “You are mine!” And he tried
to take her in his arms. She, how-
ever, glided away from him, and
going to a cabinet at the side of the
room, took from it a pack of cards
which she held out to him. “When
you have won the orchid,” she said,
smiling, “you have won—me.”
He gazed at her with his passion
smoldering in his eyes. “You are
right,” he muttered. “It takes a
woman to know a man’s true weak-
ness. I will play him once more. I
will offer to stake everything against
the flower. I will rob him of his luck
piece——"’
“Ah,” cried Sophia suddenly. “but
suppose that you should lose! I had
not thought of that!” She put her
hands to her breast and her eyes
grew wide with apprehension.
Alvarez laughed, a cruel, malevo-
lent laugh.
“I shall not lose,” he said; “I have
a charm against losing.”
“What is it, my Ramon?”
“I can not tell you; but it is a very
excellent little charm. I learned it
long ago from a gambler at St. Au-
gustine.”
She came close to him and once
more he breathed that ineffable fra-
grance of orange-blossoms.
“Tell me,” she pleaded. “I shail
be tortured with dread until I know.”
He smiled recklessly. “Well, why
not—since you love me!”
Taking the pack of cards from her
hand, he ran the colored bits of paste-
board expertly through his fingers,
finally selecting the ace of spades.
Then from a table near by he picked
up a paper-knife, and with this in-
strument slightly roughened the edg-
es of the card.
“There is my little charm,” he ob-
served.
“I am so dull.” said Sophia, “I do
not yet see——"" i
“Tt is very simple. We sit down to
play, the Colonel and I. The pack of
cards is on the table between us. In
reaching my hand to cut I run -my
thumb—so, across the end of the!
pack. One card has a roughened
edge. I draw it out. It is the ace of
spades. There is none in the deck to
equal it. Thanks to God, I have won
everything!”
At the conclusion of this speech,
Sophia clapped her hands and burst
into soft, appreciative laughter.
“Ah, but you are clever, my Ra-
mon! It only remains, then, for you
to induce my husband to play.”
“That will not be difficult,” said Al-
varez, and added mercilessly, “It will
be his death-stroke!”
Shortly afterward they heard the
sound of hoof-beats on the drive, and
Sophia, snatching up the cards, re-
turned them hastily to the cabinet.
Then she seated herself, and opening
the silver fan that she carried at her
waist, moved it languorously to and
fro. Alvarez sat down in a chair
some distance away. They were thus
decorously disposed when the Colo-
nel entered.
He was pale and gaunt, but appar-
ently as composed as usual. He bow-
ed to Alvarez with cold civility.
“] observe, sir,” he remarked, “that
you are as punctual as you are fortu-
nate.”
“I am in haste to dispatch a melan-
choly errand, senor; that is all.”
“Pray do not let it grieve you, for
it does not me. Indeed, sir, such pre-
ciousness as may be lost upon the
hazard of a card is not worth the con-
sideration of a gentleman.”
Instinctively—and perhaps uncon-
sciously—he glanced at the handsome
figure of his wife; but her face, at
that moment was concealed behind
her fan. Colonel Philip once more
addressed himself to Alvarez.
“If you are ready, sir, we may as
well proceed to the settlement of this
tiresome affair. It will not take long,
for by the terms of the wager you
will assume possession of my entire
estate.”
Ramon’s teeth gleamed beneath ‘his
dark mustache. “You forget the or-
chid, senor!”
“But that can mean nothing to
you!”
“Ah, senor,” replied the Spaniard,
with a sigh, and glancing swiftly at
Sophia, “how strange are the appe-
tites and longings to which the hu-
man heart is subject! This very
hour, as I passed beneath the
branches of your great oak—still
yours, senor, for all my good fortune
—it seemed to me that the flower
growing there was the most beautiful
—the most desirable object in the
world. ‘In truth I would rather pos-
sess it than all the rest of my win-
nings put together—"’ ;
Sophia rose from her chair and
came forward with a rustle of silken
cloth. “Why do yeu not play for it,
then?”
“Madam!” exclaimed the Colonel
sternly. But Alvarez uttered a cry
of satisfaction. :
“An excellent suggestion, senora!
Let us play for it, by all means. Col-
onel Gardiner, I will stake your whole
estate against the orchid! Will you
play?”
The Colonel’s face flushed. “Sir,”
he burst out, “I'll see you damned—"
Sophia placed her hand on his
sleeve. “Why do you refuse, Philip?”
she queried breathlessly. “What good
‘would soon vanish if one picked it.”
is the orchid to us now? If it is tru-
sn SES PHT OR RRR
ly your good omen, you will win; if,
You look at | not, you will discover how false a |
thing was that to which you had en- |
trusted your faith.”
The Colonel confronted her with
clenched hands, his eyes as bright as |
steel. “Yes,” he said. “That is true. !
One must risk one’s treasure to dis-
cover its true value.”
He turned to Alvarez and said,
“Are you sure that you wish to do!
this?”
“Quite sure, senor!”
“Then I will play.”
Sophia without a word brought the
packet of cards from the cabinet and
laid it upon a table in the center of
the room. The two gentlemen stood
upon either side of this table; Sophia
remained standing at the end of it,
mechanically waving her silver fan.
“Will you shuffle, sir?” said the
Colonel politely.
Alvarez picked up the cards and
shuffled them with clever, nervous
gestures, after which he placed them
evenly upon the table.
“Pray cut, senor,” he said.
The Colonel drew a deep breath,
bowed and reached forward; but at
that instant Sophia seized his arm.
“Let me draw for you, Philip,” she
pleaded, in her soft, musical voice.
“It may bring us luck—and I'm sure
| ing threads.
that Senor Alvarez will not mind.”
Alvarez could hardly repress a |
laugh. She was making it so very |
easy for him. “Not at all, senora.” |
The Colonel stepped aside, folded his !
arms and bent a cruious gaze upon |
his wife’s enigmatical and
smiling countenance.
1
“Very well, madam,” he said;
“draw for me!”
Sophia leaned over the table. Her
small hand rested momentarily upon
the pack; her dainty fingers seemed
to be in quest of something; then
very slowly she drew forth a card and
turned it face up.
It was the ace of spades.
Alvarez sprang back with an excla-
mation of fury, but Sophia’s steady
dark eyes met his. He controlled
himself by a tremendous effort; the
muscles of his face trembled spas-]
modically for a second, then composed
themselves into an expression of sick-
ly equanimity. Gathering up the rem-
nants of his debonair manner, he
made Sophia a low bow.
“Senora,” he said, in a voice that
shook slightly, “you have beaten me.”
From the pocket of his coat he took
a slip of paper and held it out to the
Colonel.
“Te return to you, senor, the deed of
gift of your estates. I assure you
that it has been a weight upon my
heart. And now, with your permis-
sion, I will take my departure.”
“Permit me to accompany you to
your barge,” said the Colonel, whom
good fortune had elated no more than
ill fortune had dismayed. Neverthe-
less, as he and Sophia walked with
Alvarez to the water’s edge, he drew
ner arm through his and tightly
clasped her hand.
The three came to the great oak,
and as though by common implse, all
stopped and looked up at the golden
flower about which had revolved the
singular drama just concluded. Alva-
rez was the first to speak.
“After all,” he said, “the only val-
ue of your orchid is its beauty, which
“To me,” replied the Colonel, “the
true joy lies in possessing it!”
Sophia lifted her gaze to her hus-
band’s face, and it seemed to him as
though the veil had fallen from her
spirit at last. “There’s one virtue of
an orchid,” she said proudly, “that
neither of you has observed. One
prizes it for its beauty, and one for
the delight of possessing it, but I, se-
nors, I see only one thing, and that is
how closely it clings to the oak it
loves!”—By Dana Burnet, in Every-
body’s Magazine.
U. S. Fabric Tires Still Great Fa-
vorites.
The advent of cord construction in
automobile tires has made possible
the manufacture of tires which give
astounding mileages, yet there are
many automobile owners who have
found so great a degree of satisfac-
tion in some brand of fabric tire, that
they are loath to change to the new
type.
The United States Tire company
reports sales of its fabric brands that
show these tires are continually gain-
ing favor among motorists who want
good tires at a moderate initial cost.
President J. Newton Gunn, of the
United States Tire company has re-
ceived this letter from a New Haven
merchant, telling why he remains
firm in his allegiance to the “Chain”
tread:
“I think 20,346 miles up to date is
a remarkable record for three out of
a set of five of your 35x43 ‘Chain’
tread tires. They are still on my sev-
en-passenger car in serviceable condi-
tion, and the car is used every day.
“The full set of five tires was put
on my new car the first week in
March, 1915. The first of the set
went out of commission April 2, 1918,
after running 16,103 miles. The sec-
ond blew out beyond repair the month
following, but the remaining three
have been running ever since. Ihave
had few punctures or blow-outs, ow-
ing to the elasticity and durability of
the tires.
These tires are sold exclusively by
Paul McGarvey, Bellefonte; Hubler
Bros., State College; J. H. Baney,
Howerd, and J. Harris Clark, Blanch-
ard. .
Swallows Feed Almost Entirely Upon
Insects.
If you want to free the neighbor-
hood of mosquitoes, encourage swal-
lows to make themselves at home,
says a report of the American Forest-
ry Association. These birds feed al-
most gniiTely upon obnoxious insects
and they will do much toward protect-
ing orchards and other trees from in-
sect pests. No better investment can
be made, therefore, than some houses
set out for martins or other swallows. | p
Of the blue swallows the purple mar-
tin is the largest, the male being en-
tirely blue above and below, while the
female is blue above with a gray
breast. Swallows are highly migra-
tory, most of them spending the win-
ter in South America.
Recently Deceased.
Example of a dead
| blouses.
slightly |
i
i
|
DAILY THOUGHT. he
And fearless minds climb soonest unte |
crowns.—Shakespeare.
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
i
|
Keep a steel crochet hook in the
sewing basket for pulling out bast-
The small hook can be
easily inserted under the closest bast-
ing threads and will pull them out
more readily because of the hook.
When not in use, insert the hooked
end in a cork to prevent the needie
from slipping through the basket or
penetrating the fingers.—Country
Gentleman.
A revival of plaids for dresses is
said to be coming and indications of
it are seen in plaid Angora trimming
on wool fabrics.
Coat dresses with hip godets are
shown at the openings.
Among the numerous dresses shown
at the openings are many of trico-
tine featuring trimmings of gold bro-
cade on velour or velvet.
The fitted bodice and bouffant hip
line are featured in some of the open-
ings.
Some of the new dress models fea-
ture the low waist basque bodice that
has been popularized in separate
Many of the newer dress models
concede the greater width at the sides
of the skirt, but apparently there is
considerable reluctance to give up the
loose, comfortable long lines of the |
chemise dress. This style seems to be |
repeated or retained in many of the!
new models. |
i
A number of fashionable resorts re- |
port that black satin, meteor and knit- |
ted weaves, continue to hold a leading |
place, though from fashion sources
comes increasing talk of a vogue of
brown for fall.
Many of the higher-priced suits are
featuring vests of fur, with mole the
apparent favorite.
The paletot or short, straight line
coat mentioned in cables describing
the Bernard and Drecoll openings are
seen in high-class retail showings.
They are made up for both women
and Misses.
Collars of the high Medici type are
featured on three-quarter length tai-
lor-made suits shown at Docuillot’s
opening.
More green seems to be shown for
suits here and more is spoken of in
Paris than for a long time.
Brown is reported the season's
leader for suits. Different shades are
Bead, but mostly dark ones are util-
ized.
Excepting in the severe tailor-made
models the Redingote suit is not seen
very much.
Self-plaided velvets and rough
tweeds are exploited in the newer fall
displays of skirts.
Earmarks of Breeding.—Learn how
to gracefully use your arms. Never
reserve or postpone the proper use of
them until you have on a best gown
and think that at that time a special
gesture can be brought out to go with
the gown and allure. Such a species
or artificiality is always detected.
Waeth the hands when eating.
Coarse ways of handling food, hold-
ing the teacup, lifting a spoon, are
just as repellant as unpleasant
munchings or mouthings. Elbows
that are allowed to protrude while eat-
ing are also ungraceful.
Never grasp a piece of bread or
morsel of fruit as though it were
about to escape, and the same degree
of poise should be attained in other
motions.
"In shaking hands a woman is put to
a greater ordeal than a man; hearti-
ness on his part goes a long way, but
a woman who is overhearty in her
hand clasp is dubbed “mannishness,”
which is a title that not even the
“woman’s righter” aspires to.
It is often the case that women and
men shake hands holding the hands
sidewise, but correctly the man should
put his hand out palm up and the
woman put hers into it palm down.
Between women, the hostess is the
one who puts her hand out palm up
and the guest palm down. Between
girls a proper hand shake, by the
way, is better than the unmeant
“peck” kiss, for love and affection
when a pretence is no more fascinat-
ing ‘in gesture than in substance,
whether between men and women or
just women.
To Freshen Black Silk Waist.—
Water in which potatoes have been
boiled is said to be very satisfactory
for freshening up silk. Spread the
waist on the ironing board and
sponge it with the potato water, let-
ting it dry before you iron it. Wash-
ing it in gasoline will also make it
clean and fresh. Pour a small amount
of gasoline in a basin and rub the
waist in it for a few minutes. Then
pour off the gasoline and rinse the
waist in clear gasoline and hang it
out in the air to dry and throw off
the odor. Be sure to do this very
carefully and away from any light or
heat as gasoline is inflammable. Press
the waist after it is entirely dry.
The best way to wash a serge dress
is to spread it out on the ironing
board and sponge it with a soft cloth
and warm water and soapsuds. Wipe
it off with a wet cloth to get the soap
off, and press it under a dry cloth un-
til it is dry.
Filled Cookies.—Cream one cup of
Sagar and half a cup of Shortening.
Add one egg and a half cup of milk,
2 teaspoonfuls of cream of tartar, 1
of soda, and 3% cups of flour. Flavor
with vanilla and roll thin. Place in a
pan, put a spoonful of the filling in
the centre of each and cover with
another. .
One cup chopped raisins, 3 cup of
sugar, 3 cup of water, 1 tablespoon-
ful of flour. Cook until thick.
Maxims to Remember. — Corned
beef and ham should be put in boiling
water.
To roast beef allow 20 minutes to a
ound. :
All vegetables should be put in boil-
ing water.
Cut butter in winter with a warm
knife.
Cut warm bread or cake with a
warm knife. Cut hot brown bread by
putting a string around the loaf the
right thickness for a slice and draw
quite tight.
In making tea allow one teaspoon-
ful for each person and one for the
language:
“Here's looking at you!”
pot.
FARM NOTES.
—Change of pasture is good for the
sheep.
—Young sows that do well with
their first litters may be. considered
good brood sows.
—Swine that are to be exhibited at
the fairs should be serum treated be-
fore being shipped.
—Throughout the entire country
there is a general awakening of inter-
est in better livestock.
—Yellow poplar, or tulip tree, the
largest broad-leaf tree in America,
has been known to reach nearly 200
feet in height and 10 feet in diameter.
—Rotten plums and peaches under
the trees will carry the rot fungus
over winter and start the rot in
spring. Rake up and burn these or
dig or plow them under.
_ —Don’t have any dangerous places
in the stables, such as a broken or
splintered board in the side of the
stall, or sharp pieces of boards lying
around where the animals can get in-
jured.
—Pod spot is a very common pest
on beans in moist gardens. Pick the
sound, unspotted pods for seed and
store them by themselves. Avoid
hoeing or working among beans when
they are wet.
—Veterinarians are required by
law to report to the State Veterinar-
ian, Harrisburg, Pa., all cases of hog
cholera coming to their attention.
Hog owners and dealers should do so
just as promptly.
—Of all products sold from the
farm, butter takes the least fertility
and restores the greatest amount to
the farm. It is well known that the
most fertile sections of the country
are those where dairying is carried
on.
_ —When the new stock sow or boar
is received at the farm, put by itself
for a month or six weeks at least. If
at that time it seems perfectly healthy
and has been improving in flesh, it is
safe to put it with the other stock.
This is a safe preventive of the in-
troduction of disease on the farm.
—Burlap, bought for four cents a
pound, is a good thing for heading
the barrels.
off the barrel, but not the wire hoop
immediately below it. Spread the
burlap over the top, drive the wooden
hoop on, nail it and trim the burlap
os within three or four inches of the
edge.
_ —After pear trees come into bear-
ing be cautious about over-stimulat-
ing the trees by furnishing too much
nitrogen or practicing too severe
pruning or too much cultivation, since
such practices encourage the growth
of coarse-grained, sappy wood, and
such wood succumbs to blight attack
very readily.
—The hair of a dairy cow should be
fine and soft; the skin soft and plia-
ble and not too thick. A good dairy
cow rarely carries a thick, stiff skin.
A great deal of emphasis should be
placed upon this matter in selecting
dairy cattle. The bone should be fine
and free from coarseness in order to
give the animal a look of refinement.
—It is claimed that in the blood of
animals there are six or seven times
more salt than potash, and that the
composition of the blood is constant.
To keep animals in good health a def-
inite amount of common salt must be
assimilated. The addition of salt to
animal food increases the appetite,
promotes the repair of tissue by its
searching diffusion through the body
and stimulates the rapid using up of
its waste products. Salt increases
muscular vigor and activity, and im-
proves the general appearance and
condition. Salt fed daily to hogs in-
creases to a considerable extent the
gain from the feed consumed.
—The dairy industry is the great-
est safeguard to nutritious food, says
James Foust, Director of the Bureau
of Foods, Pennsylvania Department
of Agriculture. If we permit the dai-
ry industry to decline or lapse we will
soon become an inefficient people.
The cow is the foster mother of the
human race. From the earliest time
the thoughts of men have turned to
this kindly and beneficent creature as
one of the chief sustaining sources of
human life.
It is all very well to play up the
family milk bottle, but don’t forget
that the cow in the country must be
supported, and without her the bottle
would be of little value. The cow is
the greatest supreme nourisher of the
human race.
The dairy industry in the United
States, it is estimated, represents
about two billion dollars a year in
output, many millions in investment,
and an army of about six million
workers. When the extent of man’s
dependence is fully realized, there
will come a grateful acknowledgment
that the dairy cow dispenses the one
perfect food without which the world
could not be nourished.
—The Pennslvania Deartment of
Agriculture reminds the farmers of
the State that one of the big items of
expense that by many farmers is giv-
en little attention is the loss caused
by lack of care of farm machinery.
This does notapply to the economic
farmers, but does apply to the care-
less farmer who leaves his imple-
ments where he last used them, and
often without protection from the
weather. 2
The binder has about completed its
work for the present year and the
mower will soon be through. These
two pieces of machinery are expen-
sive and should receive proper care
and attention now in order that they
may be in good working order when
needed next year.
Dirty bearings should be well clean-
ed and given a heavy coat of oil or
grease to prevent rust. The sickles
should be removed and stored in a dry
place after having been given a good
cleaning and oiling. Repairs should
be ordered now before vou forget
what is needed. This will avoid de-
lay when the machine is needed.
Above all, such high-priced articles
as a binder or a mower must be hous-
ed. The average life of the binder is
only about five or six years but with
proper care and attention it will last
double this length of time.
Machinery exposed in the elements
after the work is completed, shows
carelessness and is expensive. Paint
and adequate protection from the ele-
ments are cheap forms of insurance
for expensive machinery. A ma-
chinery shed is a practical and eco-
nomical investment.
Take the wooden hoop:
ay