Dewan
Bellefonte, Pa., April 23, 1920.
sm—
BOY 0’ MINE.
Boy o' mine, boy o’ mine,
prayer for you,
This is my dream and my thought and my
care for you;
Strong be the spirit which dwells in the
breast of you,
Never may folly or shame get the best of
you;
You shall be tmepted in fancied security,
But make no choice that is stained with
impurity.
this is my
Boy o’ mine, boy o’ mine, time shall com-
mand of you
Thought from the brain of you, work from
the hand of you;
Voices of pleasure shall whisper and call
to you,
Luring you far from the hard tasks that
fall to you;
Then as you're meeting life’s bitterest test
of men,
God grant you strength to be true as the
best of men.
Boy o’ mine, boy o’ mine, singing your
way along,
Cling to your laughter and cheerfully play
along;
Kind to your neighbor be, offer your hand
to him,
You shall grow great as your heart shall
expand to him;
But when for victory sweet you are fight-
ing there,
Know that your record of life you arc
writing there.
Boy 0’ mine, boy o' mine,
prayer for you:
Never may shame pen one line of despair
for you,
Never may conquest or glory mean all to
you,
Cling to your honor whatever shall fall to
you, .
Rather than victory, rather than fame to
you,
Choose to be true and
shame to you.
this is my
let nothing bring
—By Edgar A. Guest.
UP—THROUGH THE GARDEN.
The Story of a Young Man Who Got
to the Front via the Back Way.
About the only thing that has ever
been said about me that has hurt
deeply has been that I owe all I have
especially, and wander around the
grounds, ordering changes and im-
provements. I waited until Saturday
afternoon, and strolled down to his
place. He was not far from the
house, ordering some changes In
shrubbery. I strolled across toward
him, but when he saw me coming his
his thoughts.
had come to ask for help.
I was well aware of the fact that
talking business outside of business
hours was about the worst thing any-
one could do.
that was exactly what I intended. I
approached him, laughing, and said:
changes?”
hear of your smash.”
“I’ll1 be back on my feet. What are
you doing—transplanting ?”
“Yes. Ordering a few changes,” he
remarked.
shrubs ?”’
“Yes,” I replied.
them. I love to work with them. We
and taught me.”
something besides digging a hole with
a spade,” he said. “Can’t get a good
gardener.”
“What’ll you pay?” I asked.
looking for a job.”
He laughed heartily at what he
thought was a joke.
“Give me a trial,” I said.
“I'm
“I’ve got
ing comes.”
“All right,” he said, laughing hard-
er. “I'll tell them down at the club
world.”
“What's the pay?” I insisted, tak-
-|ing off my coat.
“I pay Jules sixty-five dollars a
month,” he said; “but you'll get sev-
enty-five dollars if you board your-
self.”
“All right,” I remarked, laughing
with him. “But don’t count that din-
ner Mrs. Godwin is giving next Wed-
nesday against my board.”
I took the spade from the man and
face changed, #24 1 could almost og
i t
RS fourng 1 | gardener for sixty dollars a month
I could see he thought
“Hello, Godwin, making some more '
“Hello!” he answered, evidently sur- |
prised to find me cheerful. “Sorry to
«Oh, that'll be all right,” I replied. |
“Know anything about!
“Always loved |
lived in the country when I was a kid |
and I worked with flowers and shrubs.
My mother was an artist with flowers, |
“Wish I had some one who knew |
to work at something until an open- |
I've got the swellest gardener in the
him where improvements could be
made, advising moving several trees
and eliminating scores of fancy shrub-
bery clumps.
front entrance with me.
“Say,” he remarked, “you’re too
high grade a man to work for any
such pay. I'll—”
“I’m not seeking charity, Godwin,”
I interrupted; “you can get a good
‘and rooms. While I am a gardener,
' pay me gardeners’ wages.” ow
“] don’t understand you,” he said.
for you, but if you insist, go ahead.
tist’s work. The last one I hired
soaked me enough.”
“I'm only an amateur,” I
laughing.
| time.”
said
“I'll learn to charge in
home when you didn’t have to do it.”
“It was the only honest thing to
| do,” I replied. “I'll win it back.”
wife’s fears had been justified. It
Tuesday night I learned Godwin had
was talking and laughing about it.
Wednesday, half a dozen of the jok-
ers drove out in machines to watch
me work, and followed me around.
One of the evening papers had a story
about me, and a picture of me in over-
alls working, on the lawn. Wednes-
day evening my wife and I attended
! Godwin’s dinner, and Godwin, in the
' highest humor, led me around, intro-
ducing me as his gardener. .
I stuck to the work all fall, trans-
ferred the plants, got the bulbs plant-
' ed, carried out the landscape scheme.
| At the end of the first month I pre-
' sented my accounts to Godwin, and
| one item showed a sale of nearly one
| hundred dollars’ worth of shrubbery
| and bulbs. He studied that for a day,
then called me to the porch to ask
| about it, remarking that my predeces-
| sors must have made a good thing out
| of his shrubbery besides charging him
i extravagant sums for additional stuff.
I drew $75 for my work as gardener
He walked down to the |
“T,00ks like a foolish waste of time
I'll pay extra for the landscape ar-!
“T’ve been wanting to say to you,” |
he remarked suddenly, “that it was
‘ darned decent of you to give up your |
When I got home I found that my
seemed every one in our village knew |
I was working as Godwin’s gardener.
been boasting at the club that he had |
the best gardener in the world, and
that every one in the financial district
started to excavate the roots of a and a $100 fee as landscape artist, and
spreading juniper bush. Godwin | took it home.
watched me curiously. I worked | Apout a week later Godwin asked
down a foot outside the spreading me to come over in the evening. I
branches, circled the bush and began found him in his study.
to dig underneath and life the roots ,
one by one, until it was free and I
could turn the entire bush over.
“Soil too heavy,” I remarked. “We
want sand for this. Wait—I'll mix
the soil myself before we replant.”
I worked for nearly an hour. God-
win had stopped laughing, and was
discussing things interestedly.
“You do know your business,” he
remarked. “I never had much of a
chance to study plants—too busy
making a living! It is all wonderful
—all of what is called my “success’”—
to the fact that a rich man took me up
and pushed me to the front.
I would not deny my great friend
and backer one grain of the deep grat-
itude I owe him for what he did for
me, for the opportunities he placed be-
fore me; but it was not this great-
hearted friend who made me, who
picked me up as a failure and pushed
me zo the front—it was myself, my g
own idea. I told him often during the ! to me.”
last dozen years how I worked it, and | “You can stand around and watch
he laughed. I made that man hire me, |if you don’t stop the workers,” I re-
compelled his attention, won his ad- | marked as Jules and I prepared a hole,
miration, and showed him I was the! mixed sand with the soil and prepar-
man he wanted and needed. ‘ed the juniper for replacing. “There
I never have told the story outside | is a lot of work to be done this fall-—
of a few close friends, but Ill tell it|but we'll have to wait until frost is in
now. It was an idea; it was my faith | the ground .for the larger part of it.”
in myself that kept me from being a Godwin followed us around, discus-
down-and-out, a discouraged and beat- sing plans for rebanking the shrubs,
en man, and made me a success. land planning for the early spring
When I was a young man, a hustler, | flowers. Finally he said:
full of ideas, and building up a for-! “Knock off and come up on the
tune, I over-played myself. I tried to porch—the wife is signalling me to
carry on a million-dollar business on a come in to tea; we're going out to
fifty-thousand dollar margin, and the dinner.”
inevitable happened. I was smashed | “If she won’t be ashamed to eat
—smashed flat. If you never have|with the gardener,” I said, and he
failed in business you cannot appreci- laughed again.
ate the feeling. I knew that half of | We washed, brushed our clothes,
| .
‘and presented ourselves to the mis-
the people I knew pitied me, and that
the others joined the cyrical “I told |
you so” crowd. |
1 had been educated without any
particular profession of business in
view. I had married comparatively
young, had put too much money into
a home in one of the exclusive sub-
urbs, lived a little better than my bus-
iness or finances warranted, and both
my wife and myself dressed well. In
everything I did, socially or in busi-
ness, even in my charities, I traveled
a little above my normal gait. I had
the tastes and the ideas of a million-
aire-—but not that much capital. When
the crash came, all that remained of
my comfortable fortune was the home
and a few hundred dollars. I owed
about twenty-five thousand dollars,
which I could not pay. The creditors
seized everything but the home, which
was in my wife’s name.
My first step was to meet the heav-
iest creditors, arrange with them to
settle with the smaller ones, and take
the home as security. They agreed to
permit me to live in the house and
pay rent; my wife consented to deed
the property back to me, and I turned
it over to the creditors. I was square
with the world, anyhow.
Twenty-eight years old, flat broke,
with expensive tastes, an expensive
family, I could not afford to take a
cheap job, and I had no intention of
accepting a small-salaried job. I knew
I was a high-salaried man—and worth
it. :
My wife and I had a talk a few
days after we got the tangle straight-
ened out. She wanted to call upon her
family for assistance, but I refused.
1 told her that doing business with or
asking favors from relatives is the
worst kind of business.
“What do you intend to do?”
asked.
“I am going to make Godwin take
me up, and shove me to the front in
his big company,” I remarked cheer-
fully.
My wife looked surprised, then
laughed heartily.
verybody knows Godwin’s reputa-
she
tion. Well, it was worse out in our
suburb than it is in the down-town
district. He happened to live only two
blocks from our home.
not know him intimately, we knew
each other as everybody else knows
everybody else in our town. We met
on the trains casually but often. I
think we had spoken to each other in
church. He was our richest man,
owned the biggest place in town, and
the towns-people stood rather in awe
of him, or perhaps of his millions.
At any rate I decided to work for
Godwin. His place occupies about
fourteen acres, just at the edge of our
suburb, and I knew that the grounds
were his hobby and that it was his de-
light to get home early, on Saturdays
Though I did |
tress of the house.
“Nellie,” said Godwin, then in a
thigh good humor, “meet the new
gardener. He’s just hired out to me.”
i Mrs. Godwin laughed heartily at the
| joke, and while we ate toast and drank
‘tea Godwin and I disussed plans for
| changing the landscaping ‘of the place
i —some of which was bad.
t “Ill tell you what'll do,” 1 re-
marked. “When I come to work Mon-
day morning, I'll make a chart of the
grounds, and get up another scheme.
This landscaping was all right when
the planting was first done, but the
shrubs have outgrown it and spoiler
the entire plan. You ought to turn to
masses with more clear lawn space,
and more banking of the flowers
against the house itself, clearing the
shrubbery away.”
home. To say my wife was shocked
when I told her I had a job as God-
win’s gardener was putting it mildly.
would say. “That’s the point,” I said.
“Everyone in this town will be talking
about me by Monday night. Godwin
i will spread the news all over the
down-town district. He thinks it is a
rich joke. I wanted to get in with
him—and I have done it, and I'll get
i advertised all over the city.”
| It was hard to make her see it from
| my viewpoint.
| would be ashamed to show her face at
ithe Godwin’s dinner the following
Wednesday. We had a long argu-
| ment, and I finally persuaded her my
i plan was correct.
Monday morning I was at work in
| Godwin's yard at seven o'clock. At
half past eight he came from the
| house, saw me, and stopped in amaze-
| ment—then he broke into a roar of
| laughter.
“Good morning, Godwin,” I called.
| “Got time to look over some of my
| plans before you go to the office?”
| He came across the lawn, and stop- |
| ped laughing.
he said seriously.
thought you were.”
“Of course I'm in earnest,” I re-
plied. “You said you needed a good
man. I need a job, and we struck a
bargain.”
“I was joking, and
{ well. Show me the plans tonight.”
I could have laughed as he stalked
see how game this fellow is and how
long he sticks to this fool stunt.”
When he came home that evening
he called me to tea on the porch and I
Later we strolled over the. grounds,
and I pointed out my scheme, showed
I shook hands with them, left God-
win in a high good humor, and went
She even declared she
|
“You're not in earnest about this?”
“Very well,” he said sharply, “very |
away. He might as well have said
plainly what he was thinking: “I'll!
showed him my drawings and plans.
“You have been a gardener now for
more than a month. What’s the.
idea?” he asked.
“Just this,” I said: “I want a place
; with you, a big-salaried job with a
! chance to advance. It would have
‘ been useless to go to you and ask for '
any position I can afford to take; so I
what I can be worth.”
“I hate to lose my gardener,” he
said. “But you surely proved your
point. I’ll place you.”
We discussed, business until mid-
night; he gave me, a pretty severe
cross-examination, and seemed satis-
fied. I did not learn until later that
he had picked a place for me, and was
all prepared to put me in it before he
mentioned it to me.
The morning after we had our jell
I went to his place and continued my
duties as gardener. The third morn-
ing after that he came from the house,
and remarked: “Jump into the car,
and we'll see how you like the other
job.’
That is how I came to get started
back toward success. Godwin always
introduced me as his gardener. He
was quite proud of my advancement,
and claimed credit for shrewdness in
discovering, by watching me plant a
bush, that I would do a job well.
The confidence I won while working
as gardener I never lost. In every po-
sition I held I always tried to give the
same service. I became not only his
trusted lieutenant in all affairs, but
his friend. We spent many hours
each week working with his flowers
and shrubs, and, to the last he declar-
ed that job of landscape gardening the
best he ever saw. I am quite proud
of it myself.—By Frederick Halsey,
in The American Magazine.
rere peer reereeee
Many Foreigners Become Citizens.
Clarence, Pa.—More than 140 men
of foreign birth have become natur-
alized citizens through the efforts of
members of the United Mine Workers
of America, Clarence Local No. 1871,
during the past three years.
The naturalization work was car-
ried on through the medium of the
Citizens Club of Clarence, an organi-
zation composed of men interested in
president of the club; Andrew Koshko,
. vice president; Andrew Tobias, treas-
urer; John Belko, secretary. Mr. Pu-
halla and Mr.. Koshko acted as in-
structors for the many classes that
have been taught during the time the
work was in progress.
There are some 35 or 40 men of
of foreign parentage in this district
who are not yet citizens, but these
are already enrolled in the training
class and their graduation into Amer-
ican citizens is only a matter of time.
Report of the work was made at a
mass meeting last week when a rep-
resentative of Community Service,
which is handling a program of citi-
zenship training in the coal fields of
Pennsylvania, addressed the club
members and friends. A development
of the work along the lines of the
Community Service program is plan-
ned.
Professional Jealousy.
First Artist—Congratulate me, old
man. I’ve just sold a picture to old
. banker Parvenu for $2,000.
Second Artist—Glad to hear it. The
misyrable old skinflint deserves to be
stuck.
Uncertain.
Edith—When are you to be mar-
ried ?
Maude—The dressmaker hasn’t de-
cided yet.
Not Human Nature.
It is hard to admire the man who
makes a success out of what you gave
up as a failure.
decided to work for you and show you :
the educational development of men of
forei birth. h J. Poh is '
She was horrified at what the people | A SO i Ly
| WHY SONG AND INSECTIVOR-
i OUS BIRDS ARE PROTECTED.
Our beneficial song and insectivor-
|
ous birds are protected chiefly for
| their
invaluable life-work, although |
| their cheery song and graceful flight i
: add many pleasant hours to the life of
i any one who will take an interest in
the great out-of-doors.
agree that
Scientists |
if insect life were mot
| curbed through various agencies this
! earth would become void of all vege-
i tation and would not be inhabitable '
by men in a very limited number of
lion species of insects with an innu-
; merable host to each species. Au-
| thorities agree that insects annually
destroy at least ten per cent. of the
years, that there are more than a mil-
‘ny hand and said with a charming !
My mamma !
crops raised in the United States.
i This means that last year the
havoc wrought by insects in the
United States alone amounted to
more than $1,565,000,000, because the
total value of crops harvested, ac-
cording to figures supplied by the
! United States Department of Agri-
culture, amounted to more than $14,-
920,000,000. This loss was in addi-
tion to the enormous sum of money
and time expended in an effort to
combat the ravages of insects.
BIRDS AS EQUALIZERS.
Scientists agree that birds are the
great equalizers between insect life
and vegetation. All young birds while
in the nest are known to consume dai-
ly at least their own weight in insect
life, which means that if in Pennsyl-
vania we have an average of but one
nest of robins to the acre with 28,-
800,000 acres in the State, each nest
containing four young birds, each
bird weighing but one ounce, or only
four ounces of young robins to the
acre, it will require 3600 tons of in-
sects to feed the baby robins of Penn-
sylvania for but one day, without
counting the food required by the par-
ent birds. Think of the enormous
work done by just one of our hundreds
of species of birds, each of which is
doing a special work that the other
frequently does not attempt to do.
Consider carefully whether or not the
birds deserve a little toll from cher-
ries, fruits, etc., in part payment of
the vast amount of good done instead
of getting down the shotgun and kill-
ing the robin or the catbird for using
as food a limited quantity of small
fruits or cultivated berries, which
they have surely helped make possi-
ble through their invaluable work.
SPORTSMEN SOLELY RESPONSIBLE
FOR BIRD PROTECTION.
While the agricultural interests of
: the Commonwealth have at all times
derived by far the greatest benefit
from the protection of our birds, it is
strange to note that the men who are
frequently looked upon as destroyers,
the sportsmen of the State, are the
i people who are responsible for our
‘laws giving adequate protection to
birds in Pennsylvania, and are also re-
sponsible for the federal law protect-
ing our birds while migrating through
other States. Above all, the sports-
men of the State have since 1915 been
paying the entire cost of enforcing the
laws protecting wild birds in Penn-
sylvania, as every cent used by the
Game Commission for this purpose
comes from revenue supplied by the
sportsmen through the Resident
Hunters’ License. Not one penny is
appropriated to the use of this depart-
ment from general taxation for any
purpose regardless of the fact that
we put forth as much effort to protect
song and insectivorous birds as we do
to protect and icrease game birds and
animals.
In view of these facts I cannot un-
derstand why the land owners of the
State, who do not contribute anything
to the protection of the birds that
make their crops possible unless they
hunt where a license is required, are
frequently antagonistic to sportsmen
and post all their lands against hunt-
ing instead of inviting their real
friends, the sportsmen, to enjoy the
privilege of their lands. It is true
that all men who hunt are not sports-
men, but practically all of them are
big-hearted, considerate fellows and
the entire fraternity should not be
condemned because here and there a
thoughtless hunter does something
which all good sportsmen deplore and
are trying to eradicate. Land own-
ers, think this over between now and
fall, and see if you and the sportsmen
of the State cannot understand each
other more thoroughly.
Are you interested in helping us
protect the birds this spring and
summer? If you are a resident of
Pennsylvania you should certainly be
and are urged to “put your shoulder
to the wheel and push” to the limit!
Respectfully yours,
SETH E. GORDON,
Sec’y Game Commission.
Cigarette Outclasses the Cigar as the
National Smoke.
Cigar types of tobacco are produc-
ed in New England, New York, Penn-
sylvania, the Miami Valley in Ohio,
Wiconsin, Georgia and Florida. Of
the entire tobacco crop of 1,389,999,-
000 pounds in 1919, the cigar types
constituted about one-sixth, and the,
chewing, smoking, snuff, and export
types most of the remainder, accord-
ing to the Bureau of Crop Estimates,
United States Department of Agri-
culture. The cigar types are heavy
producers per acre, the average for
1919 being 1,265 pounds, while the
other types had an average of 679
pounds.
Before 1919 the average farm price
of the cigar types of tobacco was al-
ways above that of the other types,
as a whole, but in that year the ex-
traordinary European demand for to-
bacco other than the cigar classes and |
the immensely increased use of tobac- '
co for cigarettes raised the average
| price of the composite chewing, smok-
| ing, snuff, and export types to 41.3
| cents on December 1, or greatly above
| the price of 21.9 cents for cigar to-
| bacco. Indeed, the latter class of to-
bacco had a lower price than in either
1918 or 1917, not because of increase
of production but because of weaker
demand. The cigar has been overtak-
en and surpassed by the cigarette.
Thinks He’s Boss.
“Do you let your wife have her own
way in everything ?”
“Yes; it’s the only way I can man-
age her.”
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
DAILY THOUGHT.
Man never climbs so high but that he
finds a woman already here.—Will Lev-
ington Comfort.
A Message from One Mother which
May Convey Some Help to Others.— '
“I assert confidently thatit is in the.
power of one American mother to |
make as many gentlemen as she has
sons.”—Marion Harland.
My text is the manners of two little
children who called upon me, each
with her mother. When three-year-
old was introduced she put out her ti-
smile, “How do you do?
said you liked little girls.” Mamma
opened her bag and out came Three-
year-old’s best beloved doll. In two
minutes Three-year-old was playing
happily in the bay window, while her
‘mother and I had the long talk that
we wanted.
ter,” she made no response to my |
When Four-year-old called and her
mother said, “This is my little daugh-
greeting, but promptly seized my
prettiest sofa pillow, threw it on the
floor and trampled over and over its
delicate silk with her dusty sandals.
Her mother said nothing, but when
she arose to leave she was quite se-
vere with little Four-year-old because
she neglected to make the formal
curtsy that she had been taught. “Ev-
idently her home training in good
manners consists in making that curt-
sy,” said a friend who was present;
but I fancied there was something
more than that back of the difference
between the two children. Of course,
calls on grown-ups are dull matters
for small folk, but little Three-year-
old had, by the thoughtful word of her
mother, been put in a mood to please
and be pleased, which is the founda-
tion of pleasure in society. Poor lit-
tle Four-year-old was “at odds with
her environment,” and her mother had
not said the thoughtful word that
might have helped her.
Whatever life may bring to a per-
son, there is one thing certain, he will
have to mingle with other people, and
good manners which have their rise in
a kindly feeling toward others will be
a great help.
Of whatever follies kings and
queens have been guilty, they have
generally realized that much of their
popularity must rest upon the impres- ;
sion that their manners make upon
people. Long before Queen Victoria
could speak plainly she was taught to
make a little bow and say, “Morning
lady,” or “Morning, sir,” when anyone
approached her little carriage. Years
later, a sailor lifted her small daugh-
ter on board the royal yacht, saying
as he set her down, “There you are
my little lady.” “I’m a princess,” the
child retorted, “I'm not a little lady.”
The watchful mother said, “That is
true. Tell the kind sailor that you are
not a lady yet, but that you hope to
be one some day.”
How can children be taught courte-
sy? 'The foundation, of course, is to
teach them by word and example to
feel kindly toward the people around
them. Show them the little ways of
thoughtfulness by which they can ex-
press this kindliness of feeling.
Teach them not to save up their
good manners for strangers, and em-
phasize this by treating them with the
same courtesy that you wish them to
manifest. “I like to have the Blanks
come to play with my children,” said
a mother, “for they are never rude
and rough in their games.” I was in-
terasted to ask the mother of the
Blanks how she had brought this
about. “I really believe it is due to
our after supper hour,” she replied
thoughtfully. “For an hour after
supper I do whatever the children
choose and as one of them. We read
aloud, we go to walk, we make candy,
we snowball one another, we play
games, and I do not ask for any spe-
cial privilege on the ground of being
a grown-up.
“But of course the children would
not think of “tagging mother” too
roughly or making hard snowballs
when one might happen to be thrown
at her; and they won’t quarrel about
who shall stir the candy when they
know that mother is waiting for her
turn.”
Ribbons cost two or three times
what they formerly did, and the life
of Alice’s hair ribbon seems very short
these days to her thrifty mother. No
matter how fresh and dainty the dress
of a little girl, if it is topped off with
a soiled and wrinkled hair ribbon her
whole appearance is spoiled. In one
of a series of thrift leaflets issued
jointly by the United States Depart-
ment of Agriculture and the United
States Treasury, directions which will |
leave the fabric looking like new are
given for cleaning ribbons.
Spread the ribbon flat on a smooth,
hard surface, such as a table top or a
marble slab. With a sponge or a soft ;
brush go over it with lukewarm water
in which a little mild soap has been
dissolved. With hair ribbons, if the
portion which comes in contact with
the hair is greasy and the stains dif-
ficult to remove, dip brush in a little
ammonia water and rub that portion
of the ribbon. Rinse the ribbon by
holding it stretched between the hands
and passing it through a bowl of
clear, lukewarm water.
Do not wring or crease, but dry by
spreading it out straight and flat ona
smooth, hard surface. Particular
care should be taken with the edges of
the ribbon in order to make them as
straight as when new. Draw the
hand gently over the ribbon to press
out air bubbles which may have
formed under it, and which will make
it appear “blistered” when dry.
Courses, or at least dishes served at
the same meal, should contrast with
one another; a bland one, then a more
highly flavored one; a hot one, then a
cold one; a liquid one, then a solid
one. For example: A hot main
course should be followed by a fresh,
crisp salad or a.cold dessert; a highly
flavored soup or boullion might be fol-
lowed by a creamed dish of some kind,
or a bland meat, such as veal with
peas.
Many times sharp contrasts in tex-
ture are very desirable—ice cream
and cake, tea and wafers, cheese and
crackers, cranberry or acid fruit with
fowl, apples with pork, apples with
beef, peas or mint with lamb, goose-
berries with fowl.
FARM NOTES.
—Strawberries for the Home Gar-
' den.—Two things are essential for
' success with strawberries—well-pre-
pared soil and early planting. The
. earlier that strawberry plants can be
| got into the ground in spring the
better. But, even to give them an
early start, the preparation of the
| beds should not be neglected. If that
is slighted, early planting and subse-
quent cultivation will both produce
but small returns. It is best, then, to
get to work on the strawberry bed at
| the earliest possible moment. As soon
i as the ground is in workable condi-
tion, the soil should be deeply spaded
and richly manured.
_ Ordinarily the home strawberry bed
is not large, and preparation, accord-
ingly, can be all the more thorough.
It cannot, however, be too thorough.
Two spadings, therefore, are better
than one, as the bed, through this
double working, will be more finely
pulverized while the manure will be
{ more evenly distributed and more
thoroughly incorporated with the soil.
Fresh manure is to be avoided; its use
is fatal. The best manure for the pur-
i pose is well-rotted cow manure and
, this should be used liberally. And,
finally, the surface of the bed should
be left in such condition—so finely
pulverized—that it could be used
without further cultivation as a bed
fo the finest seed, flower or vegeta-
e.
_ Many kinds of strawberries are
listed in the dealers’ catalogues. This
does not mean, however, that the be-
ginner should try to plant all of them.
The list is exhaustive because the
strawberry, in its way, is particular,
and the variety that will give bounti-
ful returns in one soil and one locali-
ty may prove quite stubborn in the
matter of fruiting when set out in less
congenial environment.
Among the best of the more demo-
cratic group are Climax, Haxiland and
Michael's Early, all of which come
into bearing early; Marshall, Brandy-
wine, Sharpless, Glen Mary, William
Belt, Nick Ohmer and Bubach No. 5,
all mid-season, and Lester, Sample,
Commonweslih, Gandy and Lovett,
ate.
_In making any selection of varie-
ties, note whether the sort chosen is
perfect-flowering or bisexual, or on
the other hand, imperfect or pistillate.
If a bed is made up of pistillate sorts
alone, no fruit will be borne. So, if
berries of the pistillate division are
included in the order, lay out the
planting plan so that these will be
grown with perfect-flowering plants
close at hand.
Include, too, some of the newer
sorts. These in many cases, will dis-
close themselves as improvements on
the old standard varieties. But, since
they are still, to a great extent, on
trial, it is not advisable to place the
main dependence on them. The ex-
ception to this rule, however, comes
in the case of the new fall-fruiting
berries. These have come to stay and
no strawberry bed nowadays is com-
plete without a goodly number of
these plants included in its varieties.
And especially are they desirable for
the home garden. From plants set
out this spring, a fair crop can be
had in late summer and continuously
from that time until frost. Plant
them and cultivate them in the same
manner as the others, and keep the
blossoms pinched off until July, after
which time the fruit may be allowed
to set. Progressive is the most satis-
factory variety in this class, but Su-
perb, with its extra-large fruit, is al-
most its equal.
Two methods of growing the berries
present themselves for the gardener’s
choice. Either the hill or the narrow
or hedgerow system may be employed.
From the former, the larger berries
will be obtained but at the sacrifice of
runners for new stock, which are ob-
tainable if the latter method is adopt-
ed. If the plants are set in hills, plant
them a foot apart and the row of hills
two feet apart. In the hedgerow sys-
tem, the plants are set a foot apart
and the rows two feet apart, but two
or three of the runners from each
plant—the first to form—are allowed
to root in the space between the rows.
Clean cultivation is essential from
, first to last and if the plants demand
{ more food than was incorporated in
‘ the beds before they were planted, a
' little nitrate of soda may be applied
| —at the rate of an ounce to the
i square yard—when the plants show
| signs of having taken a firm hold of
‘the soil, and, subsequently, light
dressings of bone meal and wood
| ashes. At blooming time, again, an-
| other dressing of nitrate of soda, ap-
| plied in solution rather than in salt
form, will increase the quantity of
fruit and improve the quality.
No plant is more exacting than the
i strawberry when it comes to the mat-
‘ter of depth of planting. It is prac-
tically stemless and there is danger,
therefore, of setting it so deep that
the terminal bud will be under
ground. And there is the danger
again, in avoiding this, of permitting
| the upper portions of the roots to
emerge from the soil.
—Oats for sprouting are soaked
over night in warm water and then
spread from one-half to one inch thick
on trays having perforated bottoms,
and put into an oat sprouter. Water
the oats thoroughly and turn the trays
around once daily to promote even
sprouting. Artificial heat should be
supplied in cool weather by the use of
I a kerosene lamp or some other means.
| Use a good grade of oats and allow a
| square inch of sprouted-oat surface to
| each hen daily, feeding the sprouted
| oats on the floor of the poultry house
{or in the yard. Feed at any time
| after the sprouts are well started,
which usually takes from five to sev-
jen days.
| —A flock of hens should be culled
| every two weeks during June and Ju-
| ly and August. Hens that stop laying
and begin to shed their feathers at
! this time are thrown out. The non-
| laying hen usually has a small and
| hard abdomen and a small, dry, yel-
low vent. Yellow shanks and beaks
! during these months indicate low pro-
ducers. All weak or sickly birds
(should be discarded. Retain only
! those of high constitutional vigor. It
will pay to keep hens for layers if
they have shown their worth by con-
tinuing to lay after September 15. If
‘they keep it up until October 15 they
should be retained for breeding pur-
poses.
b
Gog