= fie All 1 ~~ Bellefonte, Pa., July 2, 1920. EACH IN HIS OWN WAY. Winifred Meek Morris Pach in his own way—climbs the hill, Patterned alike though we be, Pach in his own way—finds his pace Close to the truth he sees. Tach has the journey of life to make To give a loving thought, Of faith and hope—peace and trust, For the love of the Truth we're taught. OPPORTUNITY. Winifred Meek Morris. And each, his day he lives in vain ‘Who helps not some—a step to gain For Love. And though we heed not now the call, It comes, to blaze the way to all— For truth. And through each effort made to forge ahead, ‘We reach the path—as Christ has said— For Life. IN THE MIDST OF LIFE. A West Point July 4th Story. The cadets at the United States Military academy at West Point are exercised at stated periods in what is known as sea coast battery drill. This is particularly the case during the summer time, when the corps is in camp. Routine varies but very little there from year to year, and the daily drills and practices were much the same before the Civil war as they are now. A year or two previous to the breaking out of that stupendous con- test the cadets of the second class had determined on the firing of a nation- al salute from the guns of the bat- tery at or before daylight on the en- suing Fourth of July, then close at hand. They had in some way per- suaded their own senior cadet officer while on camp provost duty to wink at their little irregularity in view of the patriotic impulse prompting them. Permission was also secured to ad- vance the drill hour of the second class under a plea that many would be absent on holiday leave. The sec- ond class advanced the drill hour still more by appearing in fatigue dress at 4 a. m. in the old seacoast battery. Aside from the five gun detach- ments, a number of cadets were on the terrace behind the large smooth- bore cannon which then composed the ancient fortification facing Crow Nest mountain, nearly half a mile away. Discipline is always rigid at the Point. Red wreaths of mist high in the east hinted that the plans laid out for themselves by the second class were likely to be interfered with. Classmates were about to separate. Sectional feeling ran high. Jim Hamline, of Maine, seemed to express the general sentiment when he urged: “Let us cut out the single fire, boys. Time is precious. We are in for extra discipline or suspension for this, anyhow. What we want to do is to make a big noise, quick!” It was then determined to fire the old guns by platoon—by twos and threes at a time—then reload and do it again by battery until the blank ammunition was exhausted or the whole class ordered under arrest. Youthlike, they relied on the patriot- ic nature of what they were doing to pull the class through, whatever cen- sure might be imposed upon them as individuals. Owing to the great dan- ger of firing these big guns, it was customary for each gun detachment— excepting No. 4, who fired the piece— to jump back on the terrace behind the battery. When ball was used they could note from that elevation the ef- fect of their target practice 2,000 or more feet away. In the semi-darkness and in the hur- ry of getting the guns ready no order to retire on the discharge of the guns was given. In calling off, No. 1 at the big eleven inch smoothbore was George Pelham, of Georgia. The gunner, No. 4, was a tall Kentucky boy named Bayard, or “the Goat,” as he was often called on account of his solemn visage. line. Everything being ready, the cadet officer from the terrace gave the word to fire by platoon, then reload and fire by battery as fast as possible. The double and treble roar was tremen- dous, as was also the excitement, for some one had called out that lights were flashing back of the parade grounds. Doubtless the camp provost marshal was hurrying with his depu- ties to sce what was going forward. “Reload! Fire by battery!” Sharp and quick the command was given and repeated along the terrace. The big eleven inch smooth bore was midway of the line. Smoke already hung thick among the guns. But the boys work- ed with a will, realizing that their time was short. “Battery ready?” sang out the ca- det officer from his perch. “Ready all!” Each No. 4 seized his lanyard firmly and, facing toward the left and rear, waited for the final word that would discharge every piece simulta- neously. The others, expecting to be more or less defended by the shock, took positions accordingly. “Fire!” came the last command. A sheet of flame and a tremendous concussion shook the earth. A smoth- er of smoke so filled the battery that it was impossible to see anything. But the work did not cease. “Sponge out!” came the next order immediately, and all the No. 1 and No. 2 men leaped on the parapet to execute it, for the cannon were old style muzzle loaders. But hardly had Pelham and Hamline reached their posts when those on the terrace saw Bayard, the No. 4 of the big eleven inch Columbia, do a most unaccount- able thing. All this loomed dimly through the enveloping smoke that fogged the atmosphere. Instead of remaining at thie breech, his proper place, the Goat sprang after Hamline and Pelham—right in front of the yawning eleven inch muz- zle. “Down! For your lives!” he yelled, seizing Nos. 1 and 2 and liter- ally hurling them down the outside slope of the parapet. At the same in- No. 2 was Jim Ham- | stant Bayard threw himself flat under | the big gun. | and roar of its discharge. | Jim Hamline, the last to revive, i saw Pelham sitting up in the ditch at | the foot of the parapet looking about ! him in a Jaze. “Did—did something | explode?” he asked. “What's wrong, ! anyhow 7” 4 | “The big eleven inch hung fire,” ex- | plained Duganne, the chief of that | saved your lives, : “Bayard He was the only one who saw section. boys. ham would Lave had your heads blown off.” Fortunately Nos. 1 and 2 were not hurt much. Aside from a stunned feeling and a little giddiness they were all right. But they fully realiz- ed what had happened and what the Goat’s promptness had saved them from. The old style cannon had real- ly hung fire, as it is termed when the discharge is momentarily delayed. On account of the noise and the smoke from the guns on either side no one | but Bayard had noticed this. In obey- ing the swift following order from the cadet officer on the terrace Nos. 1 and 2 had already sprung on the breast- works. The Goat had time only to hurl them down the embankment and throw himself flat on the earth before the explosion came. “Is—is Bayard hurt?” asked Jim Hamline as he crawled up the para- pet. “He's blackened up some and a lit- tle burned. But he dodged that blank discharge with only a fraction of a second to spare.” When the two rescued cadets reach- ed the inside of the battery Goat Bay- ard was lying on the grassy slope of the terrace. His shell jacket was off, his face and arms pitted black with powder and his hair slightly singed. The cadet officer who had connived at the entire patriotic irregularity was bending over the postrate boy with a can of water in his hand. “Pelham,” said Hamline, deeply moved, “we owe our lives to Bayard. Let’s shake hands with the Goat.” And so they did. They also strove to take upon themselves whatever might be Bayard’s share of the blame attaching to this unusual Fourth of July salute by explaining to the au- thorities that the only mischief de- signed was in honor of the country and the flag. But discipline is rigid at the Point. Among various reports of miscon- duct of the class on that overjoyful morning the adjutant’s “skin book” bore only the following brief note concerning the Goat: “Bayard, gun- ner at extra seacoast battery salute, July 4, leaving post without orders, at 4:10—4:15 a. m.” The old commander paused over this, among the column of demerits he was marking up a week later against the class, and examined and re-examined several supplementary documents referring thereto. “Disci- pline or no discipline,” he concluded, “I think I will cross this off.” He did so and afterward made some more notes himself in a little book kept for a certain purpose. Bayard himself never spoke of the matter that so nearly cost him his life and-the:lives of two others, - and his friends understood his silence and did not forget. After vacation the fol- lowing autumn he was made a cadet captain over the heads of several who ranked him, Hamline and Duganne among them. When Bayard’s name was read out at morning parade Jim Hamline once more shattered disci- pline by calling out, ‘“’Rah for Goat Bayard and the Fourth of July!”"— By J. H. Rockwell. CARE OF TIRE VALVES. One part of an automobile tire which comes in for too little attention is the valve. The principal attention a motorist need give the valve is sim- ply to see that all dust and dirt are excluded from its interior. There is a rather common belief that the valve cap is unessential. This idea is erroneous, for when a cap is not used there is a strong likelihood that dirt will work into the valve and produce a leak. In addition, if the cap is screwed on well, a break-down of the valve insides need cause the driver no inconvenience, as the cap will pre- vent the tire from deflating. Valve caps on bicycles, motorcycles, auto- mobiles and trucks are all of one size, so if a cap is lost, it may easily be re- placed. When removing the plunger from the valve do not drop it into the dirt, for dust may lodge on the red rubber washer. If dirt has worked its way into the plunger, throw away the plunger and put in a new one. Sometimes there may be a leak around the base of the valve stem. In that case the hexagonal nut should be tightened. This hexagonal nut should always be screwed down tight against the washer, atthe base, as this makes a satisfactory seal around the opening through which the valve stem enters the tube. The rim nut must always be screwed tight, so that it closes the hole in the rim. If this is not done, dirt will work in between the tire and tube and cause the tube to wear out. This advice is given by the United States Tire company, but as all the large tire companies use the same make of valve, the advice may be fol- lowed by practically all tire users. Will Prevent Much Sickness. These enervating days are fraught with danger to people whose systems are poorly sustained. This leads the makers of Hood’s Sarsaparilla to say, in thé inter- est of the less robust, that the .full effect of this good old family medicine justi- fies calling it, not only a blood-purifier but also a tonic. It is sustaining. It gives strength, also digestion, promotes re- freshing sleep, and will prevent much sickness at this time of year. Hood’s Pills, which are gentle and thorough, may be taken with it, in cases where there is need of a cathartic or laxa- tive. 65-27 E——— EY The Sting of Poverty. Mrs. Lerret—It’s so mortifying to be poor. F Qlggalue in Bessie has to wear a home drug store complexion while every other girl in her set sports the imported: kind.— Judge. a Then came the crash | it when the order was given to sponge | out. A second later and you and Pel- | Mrs, Yadilloh—<I should sao: My THE GREAT JULY 4 AT GETTYS- BURG. Pennsylvania Town Still Remembers ; 1863. With each recurring anniversary of the nation’s birth, memories of the ‘ older inhabitants of Gettysburg turn . back to that fearful day in 1863 that will always be recalled, probably, as the most terrible Fourth of July in its history. Of the great battle of Gettysburg, ranking with the most desperate con- | flicts in the history of man, historians | have told us much. They have virtu- | ally covered every square inch of the bloody field. Yet of the quaking, fear | stricken town itself during the battle { comparatively little has been read by | the world at large; few chronicles i | have been written of the doings of the ! people. | And of that awesome Fourth of Ju- ily! Everywhere else through the na- | tion, where the news that Lee's ad- | vance had been checked had reached, | there were scenes of wild rejoicing. [But Gettysburg, though glad of the | victory, was sick at heart because of | the ghastly, gory spectacle of the | battle’s aftermath that was before i the eyes of every man, woman and child in town. | When the sun rose on the morning i of July 4, the day after Pickett had | made his famous charge, its shafts . emblazoned the roofs of Gettysburg. But from the streets came no sounds of rejoicing, no cheers, either for vic- tory or for the day of the nation’s birth. All was silent, except when one | walked abroad he could hear groan- | ing, and he knew he was in a town of suffering and sorrow. In many of the houses wounded men were quartered and cared for, and the townspeople nursed them, Union men and Confed- erates both sharing in the adminis- trations. Upon the fields where the grim bat- tle had been fought the sun blazed in- to the staring eyes of hundreds— eyes that gazed vacantly at the morn- ing with the blankness of death. Hun- dreds of others opened their eyes for the last time to see the sun of day. Hundreds lay moaning, their limbs torn, weltering in blood, their heart- rending groans making the morning seem gray despite the sun. Despite the heroic efforts of the surgeons and their assistants it was impossible to reach all of the wounded in time. The battle was over. Both armies, declared Professor Aaron Sheely, who saw the battlefield, were engaged in patching up damage and doing their best to relieve the wounded. Men lay on the fields dying, enduring incon- ceivable suffering. As yet no ar- rangements had been made for their care, though as many as could be tak- en away were carried into the town of Gettysburg. “That Fourth,” said Mrs. E. S. My- ers-Stewart, who was one of the nurs- es, “was spent by the people nursing the injured. Many went out to the field of battle and helped to bring the wounded in. Many even doubted the success of the Union forces. Some claimed the battle had been drawn. This was, of course, depressing. But when we learned that the Confeder- ates had left their wounded and dying on the field in their retreat I said the battle was ours. No victorious army | ever left its men to die unaided and uncomforted. . “There was no joyful celebration that day,” added Mrs. Stewart. “We all felt like weeping. Such sights as surrounded us beggar description. Sickness and death and suffering were seen on every side. Most of the peo- ple spent the day taking care of those that were thrown upon their mercy.” There was on this ourth a feeling of relief among the people of the town. The danger of the town’s be- ing razed had passed. General Lee made preparations during the day to leave and that night withdrew toward the south. In the town efforts were made to gather provisions. There were loud calls from the survivors. Many of the uninjured soldiers were in need of food. Into the surrounding country scores of Gettysburg’s citi- zens went begging for provisions. Many of the women went from door to door filling baskets, which were sent out to the soldiers on the field. Reorganization in Forestry Dept. To expedite the administrative af- fairs of the Pennsylvania Department of Forestry, a reorganization of the various bureaus and offices has been announced by Gifford Pinchot, the State’s chief forester. He approved the changes upoh the recommendation of Major Robert Y. Stuart, the depu- ty commissioner of forestry, who is regarded as an authority on forest or- ganization by the U. S. forest service. No alterations in the office personnel are contemplated, the reorganization having been made simply to assign more definitely the business of the de- partment. Under the new plan, the Depart- ment of Forestry will comprise four bureaus and four offices. There were five bureaus and no offices, previously. The bureau of information is now the office of information. The four bureaus are fire protec- tion, operation, silviculture and lands. The offices are maintenances, informa- tion, investigation and technical edu- cation. ee esl eee. Swimming a Line. “] was just as sober when they pinched me as I am now,” insisted Arthur Bellinger when arraigned be- fore Magistrate Levine in the night court, charged with beating the prohi- bition law to a standstill. “Are you sober now?” asked the court. “Absolutely,” insisted Arthur. “Well, we'll see,” replied the court as he ordered a chalk line drawn across the floor. Then he told the prisoner to walk it. Arthur made good headway for some distance—but the chalk line sud- denly seemed to rise up and strike him across the forehead. “] said walk it, not swim it,” ex- claimed the court, as he ordered Ar- thur to spend the night in the dun- geon.—New York Globe. ISLL TR you see it ‘in the “Watch man” you will know it’s true. Permanent Pasture Needs Attention FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN. Now. Now is the time to look over the permanent pastures and see how they are standing the grazing and hot weather. It is too late to fertilize or reseed but it is not too late to remove the stock from the pasture which may be grazed too close or where the vege- tation may be dying out. Give the grasses a chance to recover if neces- sary. It is too early to pasture newly cut meadows, but an early soiling crop of oats and field peas or some summer | ensilage, would make a good substi- tute. If parts of the pasture do die out, remember next spring, as the frost is coming out of the ground, to reseed lightly with a mixture of equal parts of timothy, Kentucky blue grass, Can- ada blue grass, red top English rye grass, and white clover. Later a very light application of lime and a com- plete fertilizer may pay in the long run, say specialists at The Pennsyl- | vania State College. In some parts of the State a bright orange color flowered weed is taking possession of the pastures. This weed is commonly known as Orange Hawk weed or Devil’s Paint Brush. The rosettes of fuzzy leaves spread like a mat over the ground and single stems | with a cluster of reddish orange flow- ers grow up from each rosette. It' spreads persistently by means of seeds like dandelion and underground | stems like quack grass. If this weed is found in abundance one might as well start at once to plow it under and sow a grain or in- | tertilled crop. It is readily controlled | in this way. Buckwheat is a crop well suited to most pasture lands. Artificial Teeth Luxuries Rules France and Bans Them as Imports. The prohibition of importation of artificial teeth into France upon the ground that they are “luxuries,” and may therefore be excluded by law, will, says the National City Bank of New York, effect a growing industry and export trade of the United States representing several million dollars. The United States is, and has been for several years, the world’s largest manufacturer of artificial teeth, and has turned out probably $50,000,000 worth in the last decade. In 1914 the factory value of manufactured teeth was over $4,000,000, and is now prob- ably running at double that sum. They go to every grand division of the world, and are scattered broadcast from Russia to Oceanica, and from Japan to South America. Curiously, France, which has now excluded artificial teeth in its list of prohibited luxuries, is not, and never has been, a considerable producer of this class of manufacture, having de- pended chiefly upon the United States, Great Britain and Germany for its re- quirement. In the year prior to the war we sent to France alone $28,000 worth, while | to England, herself a tooth manufac- turer, we sent $175,000; Germany, $25,000 worth, and our neighbors in Canada, $55,000. Just now exports of th are running at the rate of over £50,000 a month, or at a rate of more than $600,000 a year. Manufacture of false teeth in the United States occurs chiefly in the States of New York and Pennsylva- nia. rr seer lpr. Employment for Industrial Victims. The bureau of rehabilitation, estab- ! lished in the Pennsylvania Depart- ment of Labor and Industry by the last Legislature for the purpose of re- turning to remunerative employment residents of the Commonwealth whose capacity to earn a living has been de- stroyed through industrial accident, has, up to June 1st, offered its serv- ices to 397 industrial accident vie- tims. Commissioner Clifford B. Con- nelley, head of the department, has received a report on the bureau’s ac- tivities from S. S. Riddle, the bureau chief. Of the persons injured, 240 have registered with the bureau, including 233 males and 7 females. The major- ity of accident victims registered with the bureau are over thirty-one years of age. One hundred and forty-seven of the accident victims, registered with the bureau, were native-born Pennsylva- nians, 22 were born in the United States outside of Pennsylvania, and 71 were born in foreign countries. Twenty-two of the total number of handicapped persons cannot read or write English. One hundred and twenty-two of the cases suffered their disibilities before the Act was passed and 118 have been injured since the passage of the Act. Sixty-one persons have been assist- ed by the bureau. They were placed in school, in shop training, or in prop- er employment. In many of the cas- es, the employers in whose plants the persons were injured have co-operat- ed with the bureau of rehabilitation. essere lpr. Gettysburg Burial Place for World War Heroes. That Gettysburg has been chosen as the place of burial for world war he- roes who died overseas and whose rel- atives prefer a national cemetery to some private burying ground, is indi- cated in the sending there of the body of private Ward MacNaulty and its interment in the Soldier’s National cemetery. ; The body was received from Eng- land, where private MacNaulty died while stationed with the 326th Aero Squadron. It was buried with mili- tary honors accorded by the Grand Army and American Legion, who will conduct all other future funerals of a similar character. Private MacNaul- ty’s father went from Akron, Ohio, for the funeral. Water We Carry. The body of an average man, weighing 154 pounds, contains forty- six quarts of water. The bones are nearly one-fourth water, the fat a lit- tle less, the nerves more than one- half water, and the skin nearly three- quarters water. The brain, muscles, lungs and heart are three-fourths wa- ter, while the blood is more than four- fifths water. a —— DAILY THOUGHT. To live a martyr’s life for the sake of a good cause is much greater strain on the energies of the soul than to die a martyr’s death. Fourth of July Luncheon.—Place a large toy cannon in the center of the ‘table. Make a quantity of tents | either by folding napkins in their ! shape or by laying striped cotton cloth over small frames of wire or, easiest : of all, by buying toy tents. Arrange | these on the table. Buy also a box of tin soldiers on foot and on horseback and scatter ‘them about among the tents. Put ' small flags at the top of each tent and | among the bonbons. Use tall vases filled with red and { white carnations and, blue bachelors’ | buttons either intermingled or group- ! ed in ‘colors separately. A bunch tied | with narrow red, white and blue rib- ! bon may lie at each place. Give each guest a bonbon box rep- ' resenting a common firecracker filled { with small scarlet candles. The name . may be painted in white on the side of | the cracker to serve as a guest card, i as also a souvenir. { For your menu serve: | Iced Currants { Iced Bouillon Watercress Sandwiches Cold Salmon, Sauce Tartare Tongue in Aspic Tomatoes With French Dressing Raspberry Lemonade Pineapple Salad Cheese Straws I Olives Almonds Ice Cream in Drums Cakes Bonbons Here's a Patriotic Cake.—One cup- i ful of butter, two cupfuls of granulat- | ed sugar, one cupful of milk, three and one-half cupfuls of flour, three i level teaspoonfuls of baking powder, | whites of six eggs. Sift the flour and i baking powder together three times. { Add the milk and, last, the eggs; fla- . vor to taste. Divide the batter into i two equal portions. To one portion add a few drops of pink fruit color- ing. Bake in four layers. Put to- gether with a white icing; ice in white and decorate with small red and blue ganies made to form the dates 1776- The pie of pies for the Fourth of Ju- ly is the scroll pie, which starts out blithely to depict the Declaration of Independence. It is a Jack Horner ' pie, and instead of being full of cher- ries, or of birds, it is loaded with fa- vors. These are inclosed in the lower part of it, which rests upon the tables, the ends being covered with crepe pa- per. Through slits protrude the rib- bon ends, which, when pulled, will re- veal the favors. This particular scroll pie costs $2. But there are other pies. Firecracker Pie—One of the sim- plest pies is the Jack Horner fire- cracker pie, Instead of being full of explosives %nis particular pie is like { its brother or sister pies, full of fa- vors. One may make it easily by cov- ering a long round box with brilliant- ly deep red paper. The favors cost 75 cents per dozen. Red ribbons will be attached to these favors inside, which may be the most iimexpensive sort, or may assume the importance , of fine presents. A Drum Pie—Another easily made pie may take the form of a drum. An old round bandbox may serve for the foundation. This drum is then cover- ed over at the top end with white tis- sue paper, through which the favor ribbons are pulled. Around the sides of the drum a strip of red, white and blue striped crepe paper will look well. This crepe paper costs 15 cents a fold of 10 feet (width 20 inches) and there’d be. lots left for decora- tions. Of course, 2ll these things may be ordered made, though there's al- ways a great variety to choose from. Fourth of July Table—The table service for a Fourth of July dinner should be of blue china, with a white cloth, of course. A center-piece of red geraniums in a blue bowl will com- plete the patriotic color-scheme. The place-cards may have tiny flags in the corner, and the serviettes may be fold- ed into tent-shapes with a wee flag flying from the top, and a toy soldier for sentry standing before each. To carry out the color-scheme, the soup may be cream of corn, with little red stars cut from slices of beet floating in it, and the fish course may be lobster farci, with potatoes Parisienne. But do not try for color at the expense of the Zoodness of your food.—Woman’s Home Companion. “I'm going to give you a rule or two about sleeves that will help you a whole lot. First of all, thereis a point at the top of the arm which we shall call the center. You can tell it by feeling for it, and the shoulder seam usually falls here or just a wee bit beyond it. The lengthwise thread of your sleeve ought to run straight from this point to your elbow. This is really the test of a good-fitting sleeve. To get your sleeve in right where you have altered -your pattern and have no notches to go by, try this method: Measure one inch back of the shoulder seam on your armhole, fold the armhole in half at this point and at the opposite point on the lower part of the armhole make a notch for the sleeve seam. Now fold the arm- hole again so that ‘the shoulder and underarm seams meet and notch the folds to show the points between which the sleeve fullness should fall. If the sleeve humps at the top, slip it up a bit under the shoulder instead of dis- tributing the fullness. Hang your straight skirts after you have put in the hem from your belt, but gored skirts are best hung from the hem. You can measure the dis- tance from the floor by putting a piece of chalk between the crack of your dining room table and turning around slowly to let it mark off at your hipline a uniform length from the floor. Subtract from this the length your skirt will be from the floor and measure off the difference with a yardstick from the chalk marks for the bottom of your skirt. Itcan’t be wrong. American manufacturers of corsets —and these are the greatest in the world—say that there will not be ahy radical changes in corsets this coming fall and winter season. sir wn, FARM FACTS. —Pennsylvania Crop Report.—The Bureau of Statistics, Pennsylvania Department of Agriculture, reports the acreage and condition of crops in this State on June 1, as follows: Winter Wheat—The area sown to wheat last fall was estimated at 1,- 592,770 acres which was three per cent. less than the area sown the year previous. ing of ice which formed on low ground last winter and early spring, together with sowing too late in some instanec- es and damage by the Hessian fly, the area has been further reduced 26,630 acres; consequently the area to be harvested is placed at 1,566,140 acres. The condition of wheat on June 1 is estimated at 86 per cent. of a normal, and forecasts an average yield of 17.6: bushels per acre and a total produc- tion of 27,564,000 bushels. The crop. last year was estimated at 29,190,000 bushels, and the average yield was 17.8 bushels per acre. The average production of wheat for the past five years was 26,319,780 bushels. Spring Wheat—The area sown to spring wheat is estimated at 21,117 acres, which is 85 per cent. of last year’s area. The crop last year was estimated at 401,304 bushels, which was 15.3 bushels per acre. Rye—The condition of rye is 92 per cent. of a normal and is indicative of a yield of 17.2 bushels per acre and a total production of 4,027,000 bushels. The crop last year was estimated at 3,865,877 bushels, and the average vield was 17 bushels per acre. The average production for the past five years was 4,456,000 bushels. Oats—Notwithstanding the lack of farm help and the cold, wet weather during the oat-sowing season, the es- timated area sown to oats is 1,154,330 acres which is 97 per cent. of the area sown last year. This proves pretty conclusively, though handicappd, the farmers are putting forth their best efforts, with the aid of machinery and labor-saving devices and such help as is available, to produce as largely as possible. The condition of the oats on June 1 was 90 per cent. of a nor- mal, indicating an average yield of 32.9 bushels per acre, and a total pro- duction of 37,977,000 bushels. The crop last year was est¥mated at 35,- 015,000 bushels, and the average for the past five years, 38,717,000 bushels. Barley—The area sown to barley is estimated at 89 per cent. of last year’s area, or 14,346 acres. Condition is estimated at 90 per cent. of a normal and points to a yield of 26.5 bushels per acre, and a total production of 380,100 bushels. The total produc- tion last year was estimated at 381, 500 bushels. Hay—Condition of meadows is 88 per cent., which is nine per cent. be- low conditions on June 1 last year. Present indications are that the yield will approximate 1.39 tons per acre; and if the acreage harvested this year is as large as last, the total crop will be 4,158,000 tons as compared with 4,219,415 tons last year. The average production for the past five years was 4,394,400 tons. ; It appears that there were approxi- mately 334,375 tons of hay in the far- mers’ hands on June 1. This is eight per cent. of last year’s crop. —Less Dogs or More Fees.—From news items of daily press it is report- ed that the “dog catchers” of Paris are paid thirty cents for each dog caught by them. In Pennsylvania the constable is the authorized officer to enforce the dog law, and is paid a fee of $1.00 for each dog detained or destroyed. Unques- tionably the opportunity is greater in Pennsylvania for better returns to these officers where dogs are more nu- merous than where the dogs are few- er and fees are less. Reports show that the dog law of 1917 is more generally understood by both dog owner and officer, and that dog owners are more careful about allowing their dogs to run at large. The prosecution of careless dog owners and the loss of dogs has made these owners more observant and ready to comply with the law. —The work of enforcing the dog law of 1917 will be vigorously prosecuted during the summer months, according to the Pennsylvania Department of Agriculture. The department will in- sist that the constables and police of- ficers, together with the County Com- missioners and County Treasurer do not abate in their efforts to round up unlicensed dogs and to prosecuté the owners. The state game protectors are aid- ing in the enforcement of the law and in Erie county, game protectors have prosecuted twenty-one owners of un- licensed dogs. This work will be eon- tinued by game protectors in every county where there is wild game. —Pennsylvania’s maple trees pro- duced a crop of syrup and sugar val- ued at almost a million dollars, this year, according to figures prepared by the Bureau of Statistics, Pennsyl- vania Department of Agriculture. Although the maple products amount to this great figure, the amount of maple syrup produced was only 83 per cent. of the quantity produced last year while only 80 per cent. as much maple sugar was turned out this year. The decreased production was brought about by unfavorable weather condi- tions. According to a statement issued by Director L. H. Wible, of the Bureau of statistics, 264,000 gallons of maple syrup were produced and sold at an average price of $2.75 per gallon, rep- resenting a total value of $727,670. There were 549,440 pounds of maple sugar produced this year and this sold for an average price of 37 cents per pound, the total value being $203,292. —One time during the war Dr. Jor- dan, of Geneva, advised the farmers to put their work, their fertilizer, their seed and their best efforts onto the most productive, most easily-till- ed part of the farm, and let the least productive part lie fallow until labor is more plentiful. This is good advice now. —The English sheep-raiser depends largely upon roots for his winter suc- culent feed. The man in this country who has a large supply of roots in his cellar and knows how to feed the flock, has an advantage over the sheep-raiser with an empty cellar, The unusually heavy coat- =
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers