“Bellefonte, Pa., September 10, 1920.
SEA lat,
The Heartless Employer.
An honest working girl one day went out
to hunt a job,
She was a union worker, and she knew
her rights, by gob!
Bhe drove up to a factory in her jeweled
limousine,
And walked into the office with the man-
ners of a queen.
“The Boss came out to meet her, and he
bowed and said: “Your Grace,
We need a girl right now and hope that
you'll accept the place.
Our factory’s bright and
serve a noon meal free,
And we'll supply a boudoir and a maid,
too, I'll agree.
sunny and we
“The work is light, and yeu need work
just six short hours per day,
And when you're here a month you'll
get another raise in pay.
Please take the job, Your Higness, help us
out, and have a heart!
But all that we can pay is ninety bucks
per week to start!”
The poor girl heard the awful news, then
staggered to the door,
The shock had quite unnerved her, and
she fell down on the floor,
They called a doctor and he worked on
her for half a day,
And then she faced that heartless boss.
and these words she did say:
Chorus:
“I may be but a working girl, but I am
proud and free!
And them starvation wages sir, does not
appeal to me! .
And Heaven will protect me, and will
curse the stingy geek,
Who'd ask a decent girl to
Ninety Bucks a week!”
—Cincinnati Enquirer.
work for
THE GENIUS.
It began the day when Lida Ches-
ter was four years old. She had put
her fat little hand up to the keyboard
of the old tinkly piano and had picked
out fumblingly, but accurately on the
whole, the air of “In the hazel dell my
Nelly’s sleeping,” and as it cnanced
her mother and Great-aunt Lida Tunis
whose namesake she was, heard this
musical effort. They turned awed
faces to each other.
“My dear—she’s even got the time
correctly!”
“And every note! That baby!”
“She’s heard you play and sing it,
of course,” whispered Great-aunt
Lida.
“Yes, of course,” said Mrs. Ches-
ter. “But I never knew she was lis-
tening.”
“Well, Paula,” Great-aunt Lida set-
tled the matter once and for all,”
that child is a genius, and nothing
less. She must begin to take music
lessons at once.”
You may imagine whether or not
her mother doubted that what Great-
aunt Lida said was true. Little Lida
was presently given over into the
hands of Miss Annette Melville, who
had “studied in Boston.” Lida learn-
ed the white keys and the black keys
and the half notes and the whole notes
and all the other sorts of notes, and
what crescendo and diminuendo
meant, before she could read in the
First Reader. She could play
“L’Eventail” and “Shepherd Boy”
when she was six, and Miss Annette
never gave her a lesson without tell-
ing her mother, who waited to hear
just that, that Lida undoubtedly was
a genius.
Meanwhile Great-aunt Lida, inor-
dinately proud of her name-child, had
spread the same report throughout
all the branches of the Tunis and
Chester families, and of course the
neighbors heard it, so that by the
time Lida Chester was ready to go to
school it was conceded everywhere
that Mr. and Mrs. Henry Chester's
little girl was a musical genius, and
stories of her practicing two hours a
day, and how cunning it was to see
her tiny hands trying to stretch an
octave were ordinary neighborhood
chat.
All this conspired to keep Lida
apart from the other children who
woul 1 naturally have been her friends
and playmates. She honestly loved
her music, and of course she couldn’t
be popular with the boys and girls
round about when she wouldn’t stop
to play Blackman, or Prisoner's Base
or Crack the Whip, but scampered off
home to sit at the piano and do scales
and five-finger exercises. You may
be very sure that the other children,
who had to be nagged and bribed un-
ceasingly to get them to practice a
quarter of an hour every day, and
who looked on Miss Annete Melville
as a detestable ogre, were more than
willing to concede that Lida Chester
was a genius—no one but a genius
would ever practice voluntarily.
When Lida was a slender, shy, and
pink-cheeked girl of twelve, Miss
Anne told Mr. and Mrs. Chester that
she’d taken her as far as she could.
Even her Boston teaching wasn’t ade-
quate for a pupil like this one. And
she recommended Professor Harden-
bergh, in the nearest small city.
To Professor Hardenbergh Lida ac-
cordingly went, taking the train ev-
ery Saturday morning, with her mus-
ic books neatly strapped and a box of
luncheon to eat in the railroad sta-
tion before she went to her lesson.
She came back on an afternoon train
and was home in time for supper, so
Mrs. Chester thought of an ideal ar-
rangement. She was a little afraid,
at first, that Professor Hardenbergh
would not immediately see that Lida
was a genius; but her fears were pres-
ently allayed by glowing letters
(somewhat misspelled, showing the
artistic temperament) from that
gentleman, setting forth his great de-
light to have such a wonderful pupil.
Lida was now introduced into a more
sophisticated musical atmosphere and
played pieces at students’ recitals ev-
ery month or so, difficult ~lassic pieces
that far older pupils of Professor
Hardenbergh could not master.
But she began to be faintly aware
that music was not all of life. She
was lonely and wistful when she saw
the other girls running off in twos and
threes to skate, or to picnic on the
river, or heard about the impromptu
taffy pulls and marshmallow roasts
they were always getting up, and lo
which she was never invited. Of
course she was asked to the big par-
ties, the regulation birthday affairs
with ice cream and cake and lemon-
ade and your best white dress and a
new hair ribbon, but she’d always
been kept so busy being a genius that
she hadn’t had time to make the
friendships and chumships that are
every girl’s right. For all her mus-
ic, she was often a very lonesome and
unhappy child—for even at fifteen she
was hardly more than a child in
many ways. It was hard always to
be a genius—she would almost rather,
she thought, have had some fun.
As soon as high school was over,
she must, of course, go to boarding
school, and Mrs. Chester chose one
with a strong “musical department;”
the strength of which, alas, was most-
ly imaginary—fine things written in
the catalogue to get pupils, but Mrs.
Chester believed every word of it.
Here Lida was found to be more of
a genius than ever, and was put for-
ward to give student recitals all by
herself, which she found enormously
exciting. And among the music fac-
ulty there was a consensus of opinion
the Lida must “finish abroad”—it
was nothing less than worthy of her.
Now, - as it happened, in all this
time Lida Chester had no teachers
who were real musicians, and she had
been out of the way of hearing great
players.
common then as they are now, and
she had heard only minor artists, none
of the virtuosii She had had no
chance to make comparisons, to know.
She had accepted her genius-ship and
believed in it as fervently as everyone
else. She saw herself, after “finish-
ing abroad,” joining at once the ranks
of those virtuosi whom she had never
heard, but whom she read about in
musizal magazines. She was perfect-
ly honest in her belief, and as naive
as her father and mother, who were
already wondering what they would
do as parents of a celebrity. It was
all a very brilliantly colored bubble.
There was no question, of course,
with whom Lida would study when
she went abroad. She was to have
the very best, and though Mr. Henry
Chester said that twenty-five dollars
a lesson seemed pretty steep, he sup-
posed he could stand it for a while,
because he had been round enough
to know that the final polish in any-
thing is what tells, and it had got to
be the very best if it was worth any-
thing.
So Lida Chester, a little dismayed
by the demands the journey made on
her inexperience went overseas and
finally landed in a good enough little
pension in Vienna. At the appointed
time, and after a great deal of formal-
ity, which she thought downright
funny, she was to play for the Great
Maestro. And she played. He let
her play—Chopin, Beethoven, Bach.
At the end he said sharply:
“You were not taught that Fugue?
You learned him to yourself ?”
“Yes,” she said. “My teachers nev-
er seemed to think much of Bach, but
[—like him.”
“It is the only gleam of intelligence
you show, mademoiselle,” said the
Great Maestro. “You are not a pian-
ist. You have been playing all your
life, na doubt, and had you come to
me ten years ago something might
have been made of you. You have no
technique, you have no tone, you have
the wrong method everywhere. I can-
not teach you. I would not. It is
far too late.”
“You—you cannot teach me?”
stammered Lida, not believing that
she understoed him.
“Mon dieu, no!” he said, irascibly.
“Do you not understand—you are not
a pianist. you will never be one. Your
playing is laughable, ridiculous, a
farce. You are like so many of the
young American ladies who come to
me. You have been learning all your
life, but learning wrong. And I sup-
pose that your good people at home
think you a genius, hein?”
It did not occur to her to question
the Great Maestro’s decision. She
knew that he was right. As she had
gone down the stairs from his studio
she had heard someone who played as
the true artist plays, passionately, in-
terpretively, with such mastery over
his singing instrument that he has
ceased to be conscious of it. She had
stopped a moment to listen, even in
her misery, and that moment of lis-
tening clinched the truth of the Great
Maestro’s words. No, she could nev-
er play like that—and that was the
real art.
Somehow she got back to her pen-
sion. She had only partially un-
packed her trunks, and now she put
back the things she had taken out.
For the first time she realized how
much she had believed in herself and
how she had accepted complacently
her musical destiny, even when it had
seemed a little dull and lonely. And
now she knew the truth. ,
Youth has no philosophy to soften
trouble, no knowledge of small com-
pensations, no recognition of the rela-
tive insignificance of one grief, how-
ever devastating it may be to the
individual, compared with the daily
sum of human misery. No, to youth
each sorrow, each disappointment, is
colossally unique. No one has ever suf-
fered so. No one has ever experienc-
ed such bitterness. No heart has ev-
er ached so tragically.
It was so that the weight of her
disappointment and the wreck of her
hopes affected Lida Chester. She
wasn’t a genius, and her world lay in:
ruins. On the home-coming steamer
her fellow passengers marked her
evident misery and were very kind to
her. One of them, Evan Welsh, a
young minister, coming back from a
six weeks European tour to take up
work at his first charge, found him-
self overwhelmingly concerned for
this broken, unhappy, gentle young
girl. He attempted to console her,
and he fell fathoms deep in love with
her. Before the ship touched land,
they were engaged.
It would be difficult to say whether
Lida Chester loved the ardent young
cleric or not. His gentleness and his
sympathy were very healing—besides,
he represented a way out of the diffi-
culty of going home and making the
confession of her failure, Lida’s home
folks were of the old-fashioned type
who saw in marriage an excuse for
any girl to abandon any career, how-
ever brilliant. Moreover there would
be some hundreds of miles between
her old home and her new one, and
Concert tours were not so!
i
{ she would be spared the daily rubbing
of salt in the wounds of her pride.
So she came home and said that
she was to be married, and did not
make it clear to any of her friends
or relatives whether she had met Ev-
an on the trip going over, or coming
home. Everyone naturally thought it
was on the way over, and she let them
think so. She bore with all her self-
control the lamentations of some of
those about her that her genius must
be swallowed up in matrimony, and
she did not answer them. Everyone
thought she must be powerfully in
love.
Occasionally a desperate remedy
turns out to be the best, and so it
was with Lida. Her marriage was
successful, in happiness that is, and
that is the true metal of success. Ev-
an’s salary, was very, very small, and
she had to sew, cook, scrub, some-
times to wash and iron, and to count
even her pennies twice and twice
again before she spent them. She
did it gladly, and was thankful that
she could say that her hands were too
stiff and work-worn for much play-
ing. She even disliked to play the
church organ, and thereby won a life-
long friend in the person of the girl
who had been playing it and who had
feared to be ousted by the minister’s
wife, who was, the congregation had
heard, a real musical genius.
Lida Welsh could not hear the word
without a bitter stricture of the heart.
It hurt here like a sharp blow, and the
memory of what she had endured that
day in the sunlit Viennese studio,
with the old white-haired Maestro,
and his hovering secretaries in the
background, buried though the mem-
ory was, gave to her nature a subtlety
a baffling impenetrability. People
said, “There’s something different
about the minister’s wife.”
The changes that came to Lida
Welsh were the natural course of life.
Her parents died, and so did Great-
aunt Lida, who had first hailed her as
a genius—and there was left to her
a little, oh, a very little income, which
pleasantly supplemented Evan’s mea-
ger tithes. And one child was born to
her, a daughter, so like her father,
blue-eyed, square-chinned Evan Welsh
as to make those who saw them to-
gether exclaim at the amusing like-
ness. They named the little girl Mar-
garet, for Evan’s mother.
The poorer pastorates of Evan’s
youth gave way to better ones—he
had the gifts of sympathy and fiery
sincerity, and he was honestly ortho-
dox, so it was safe to advance him.
Life went more easily for Lida, and
there were times when she forgot
that stinging word that had so
violently warped her youth. Only
now and then was it recalled in letters
from some old friend, or a distant
relative who thought it a compliment
to lament to her that she had given
up a great career for the obscurity
of a minister’s helpmate.
She was thirty-three and Margaret
was ten when Evan Welsh suddenly
died, stricken in the pulpit at the be-
ginning of a communion service. Af-
ter the funeral was over, Lida found
that he had left her nothing save the
memory of his honorable spirit and
his faithful, cherishing love, a thous-
and dollars’ life insurance and a very
small library of well-chosen theologi-
cal books. She gave these last to the
young man who was sent by the Cor-
ference to take her husband’s place,
and then, with the feeling that hence-
forth she must live for her child and
her child’s future, she took her thous-
and dollars and her household goods
and for the second time sought a
home in a strange place, a college
town, and with a good preparatory
school near, and there she settled. She
had determined that Margaret should
have a liberal education and be con-
stantly among young people—this
with recollections of her own young
loneliness.
(Continued next week).
3,786 Fires Caused by Lightning.
Lightning has started 3,786 fires
in this State, with losses amounting
to $1,810,557, according to figures for
a two year period, issued today by C.
M. Wilhelm, chief of the Bureau of
Fire Protection, of the Pennsylvania
Department of State Police. There
were only 20 losses on buildings which
were equipped with lightning rods.
The damage from those fires was less
than $50,000.
As this is the season of thunder-
storms, the Bureau has issued a
warning that lightning rods should
be examined at once to correct de-
fects. Major Wilhelm reccommended
that corrosion be removed from the
rods where they enter the ground,
and that the cables be deep enough in
the ground to insure reaching damp
earth.
Major Wilhelm’s statement showed
that every summer heavy fire losses
occur in the rural districts by lightning
strokes. He endorsed the effective-
ness of lightning rods and urged their
installation.
From a Sure Source.
During a court case a solicitor was
examining a witness ana happened to
ask him about the character of a de-
ceased man who was mentioned.
To the amazement of the court the
witness replied: “He was a man with-
out blame, beloved and respected by
all, pure in all his thoughts and—"
“How did you learn that?” de-
manded the judge in surprise.
“I read it on his tombstone, your
honor,” was the disconcerting reply.
—Answers, London.
re re mer—— ——————.
Conclusive Evidence.
William and Henry, Chauffeurs,
were discussing the ill luck of a fel-
low chauffeur, Clarence, who had the
day before been fined for taking out
his employer’s car without permis-
sion.
“But how did the boss know Clar-
ence had taken the car out?” asked
Henry.
“Why,” explained William, “Clar-
ence ran over him.”—Harper’s
Comfort and a Suspicion.
From the Seattle Post-Intelligencer.
One of our great comforts as Amer-
icans, is the feeling that somebody
is running the country for us. Some-
times the suspicion grows upon us
that nobody is running it.
Jury List for September Court.
The folowing jurors have been
drawn for the September term of!
court, which will convene on Monday
the 27th:
GRAND JURORS. }
Arnold, Louis, farmer............. = Rush
Andrews, W. C., merchant..... Philipsburg |
Baney, Wilbur H., clerk........ Bellefonte
Beck, James W., farmer............. Gregg |
Craft, Herbert, laborer....Snow Shoe Twp.
Eagan, James, laborer............ Liberty !
Everhart, Samuel, farmer.......... College
Goldberg, T., ‘werchant.............. Rush
Eckenroth, Chas. R., carpenter..Unionville
too
Hazel, C. .C., Iaborer:............... Spring |
Lambert, lL. G., clerk.......... Ferguson '
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
DAILY THOUGHT.
Do good with what thou hast;
|
|
or it}
will do thee no good. If thou wouldst |
be happy, bring thy mind to thy condi-
tion and have an indifferency for more
than what is sufficient.—William Penn.
HOW I MAKE MY JAM CLOSET PAY.
I have a jam closet that I am proud-
er of than many of my neighbors are
of their best china closets. It is just
as shining and spick and span, and
filled with as many precious things,
. What is more since I determined
to make it pay, it has gone down on
the asset side of my budget book.
Johnson, Elwood, chauffeur..... Bellefonte !
Lucas, Alfred, laborer..... Howard Twp. | When I decided over a year ago
McElwain, Harry, merchant... Unionville | that a jam closet was a luxury with
McClellan, Harry A., farmer........ Potter | SUgar at top prices, I started a gen-
Peters, Howard C., barber...... Uniionville eral reformation. First of all I took
Rowan, Alfred, farmer............ Huston | Inventory of what there was on hand.
Runkle, John L., laborer.......... potte | 1 tried to compute roughly what our
Struble, Charles, farmer............. Miles | family used each year, and determin-
Struble, J. Watson, retired........ College | €d to put up no more than that during
Vonada, A. F., ‘farmer.........)... Greg { the canning season. In his way,
Walker, John H., farmer........... Union | counting what I had on hand, I kept
White, William J., farmer.......... Union | MY supply just a little ahead of the
Zerby, Edward C., farmer.......... Gregg | demand in case illness or a lean fruit
TRAVERSE JURORS year should come along.
Auman, Uriah G., shopkeeper....... Penn = Then I typewrote this inventory in
Beck, Boyd, laborer......... State College ' list form, dividing it into classes like
Senner, William, machinist... Philipsburg ' jellies, pickles, catsups, ete., with the
Bierly, Alfred, laborer.............:. Boggzs | number of jars or glasses on hand. I
Crago, Harry, foreman........Philipsburg pasted this on the door of my jam
Campbell, H. C., farmer.............. Rush closet and hung a pencil beside it.
Duncan, A. H., clerk........... Philipsburg Every time I take out a jar of fruit
Diehl, John, laborer........ Howard Boro or a glass of jelly I make a cross be-
Dixon, William, farmer............ Taylor side the line on the inventory. At
Dunlap, John, laborer.......... Bellefonte preserving time last year 1 added
Estright, David. laborer............ Boggs roughly to the first inventory each
Ertley, William, blacksmith. .State College |
Freeman, William, butcher....Philipsburg !
Frazier, Foster, farmer............. Potter
Gleason, Mike, farmer.......... Snow Shoe
Gramley, T. M., manufacturer....... Gregg i
Gilbert, C. F., carpenter........... Haines |
Glenn, James, farmer............ Ferguson
Gephart, P. A., laborer ........ Liberty |
Harvay, J. Fred, baker....... State College |
Hazel, NN. B., farmer.............. Haines |
Hicks, PE. agent... .......c.u.00 Patton !
Hoy, 8. H., farmer.......c......: Benner |
Hoy, Roy, farmer................. Walker
Haines, Calvin, laberer.......:..... Haines |
Keister, George, farmer............ Haines
Loud~»r, Elmer, farmer............. College '
Mayes, J. B., granite cutter....... College |
Meyers, Roy, carpenter.......... Ferguson
Marshall, Lester L., laborer...... Benner |
Meyer, Nevin, farmer.............. Harris
McGonigal, Samuel, farmer......... Worth
Moore, Fred, clerk............. Philipsburg
McCartney, John, farmer........... Curtin
McClellan, R. G., farmer........... Haines
Pletcher, D. W., surveyor....Howard Boro
Poorman, Harry, Ilaborer.......... Spring
Sellers,” C. iT, farmer.............. Patton
Sweetwood, I. J., laborer...... Centre Hall
Stover, Martin A., merchant......... Penn
Schrack, James, farmer............. College
Shaughnessy, Joseph, clerk..... Bellefonte
Sasserman, John, laborer......... Ferguson
Stover, Clayton B., tinsmith......... Gregg
Thomas, D. R., foreman...Snow Shoe Boro
Williams, Mark, clerk........... Bellefonte
Williams, J. S., foreman........... Liberty
Wilson, Chas, M., farmer.......... Huston |
Native Seeds to be Used in Forestry
Work.
To carry out the extensive forest
tree planting program planned for
this State by Gifford Pinchot ihe
chief forester, the Pennsylvania De-
partment of Forestry this fall will
collect large quantities of seed from
native trees. Previously the seed
for the department’s nurseries was
purchased from commercial collectors
in this and foreign countries, but the
inferior quality and high cost has
convinced the Pennsylvania foresters
that they can save money and procure
better seed in this State.
As this is a year of heavy seed bear-
ing by most of the desirable forest
trees, unusually large quantities of
seed will be collected by the foresters.
Seed not planted next spring in the
four nurseries operated by the depart-
ment will be held over for planting in
the year following, in case it is a lean
seed year.
While most of the seed to be col-
lected will grow young forest trees
for planting on State and private tim-
ber lands, some seed from decidious
trees will produce shade trees for free
distribution to cities and boroughs
for municipal and educational plant-
ings.
stimates by John W. Keller, chief
of the bureau of silviculture, call for
the following seeds this fall:
White pine, 600 pounds; pitch pine,
300 pounds; short leaf pine, 50 pounds;
red pine, 300 pounds; white spruce,
60 pounds; walnut, 200 bushels; sugar
maple, 50 bushels; tulip poplar, 50
pounds; white ash, 50 bushels; Nor-
way maple, 20 pounds; American Elm,
50 pounds; red oak, 30 bushels; pin
cak, 10 bushels. An effort is being
made by Mr. Keller to procure 75
pounds of Japanese larch and 60
pounds of Norway spruce seed from
Japan, *
Vacation is Over.
Again the school bell rings at morning
and at noon; again with tens of thous-
ands the hardest kind of work has begun,
the renewal of which is a mental and
physical strain to all except the most rug-
ged.
The little girl that a short time ago
had roses in her cheeks, and the little boy
whose lips were then so red you would
have insisted that they had been “kissed
by strawberries,” have already lost some-
thing of the appearance of health.
Now is a time when many children
should be given a tonic which may pre-
vent much serious trouble. No other
is so highly to be recommended as Hood's
Sarsaparilla, which strengthens the nerves,
perfects digestion and assimilation, It
aids mental development by building up
the whole system.
Equally good as a medicinal prepara-
tion are Hood's Pills, which are so well
adapted for both children and adults.
In small doses they are a gentle laxative.
in larger doses an active cathartic.
65-36
i ————————
Inherited Talent.
“Your daughter has a fine touch,
Mrs. Moriarity.”
“Yis, so they be tellin’ me; an’ sure
‘tis no wonder, for she loves the
pianny and niver ‘tires of it; she has
a great taste for moosic, but thin
that’s only natural, for her grand-
father had his skull broke wid a cor-
i med label for each year.
net at a timperance picnic.”—Hous-
ton Post. |
time I put new batches on my shelves
and when I cleaned house in the fall,
1 rewrote the inventory as I rearrang-
ed my shelves.
Instead of putting all the old fruit
and vegetables on separate shelves, I
have clossified my treasures the same
as on the inventory list. I put the
older things outermost so they will be
used first. An easy way to recognize
the year, which when written on the
label often gets blotted out or stained
Is to use a different colored gum-
I I tried buy-
ing the colored labels and writing on
them, but now I find it easier to use
the printed labels to be bought in
books and paste them on the large col-
ored label.
I mark my most successful pre-
serves with a tiny red star on the lid.
This means “family hold back” and
reserves them for special occasions.
Then I have a “gift shelf.” Every
time I do up anything, I make one
extra glass, bottle or jar for the gift
shelf. I save up during the year all
the nice little receptacles, odd-shaped
Jars, tiny glasses, little china dishes
from the bargain counters, and so on,
which can be filled to make attractive
gifts for the invalid, for neighbors,
for Christmas and birthdays. In this
way I always have something ready
to give away when I need a present in
a hurry.
Another thing which makes my jam
closet such a pleasure is that there is
a space reserved for “empties.” Ev-
ery time a jar or glass is emptied,
it is washed, scalded, aired, and the
lid put on it. In the case of jars for
canned goods it is tested for leak-
age and then set back in the jam
closet for next year. Bottles are
corked and jelly glasses covered, so
that all these things need next year 1s
the dust wiped off the outside.
The shelves are covered with oil-
cloth so that they can be wiped easily
when something “works-over.” I have
an electric bulb hanging on a looped
wire right in front of the closet. And
there is a lock to my jam closet, too.
Those jars are just as precious as
my silver, and, besides, the locked
door insures darkness for my fruit.
During preserving time I keep a
close record of everything that goes
out of the house money towards can-
ning and preserving. The first year
this had to come out of the house
money. But now I have a canning
fund, for every time I used a jar out
of my jam closet, I put away in the
fund the wholesale price of this par-
ticular jar or glass of fruit or vege-
tables. The retail price would not
have been fair because we would prob-
ably not have eaten so much canned
and preserved stuff if we had had to
buy it at retail prices. This year my
canning fund ought to exceed what I
will need for materials this summer.
And that is why my jam closet is a
business asset as well as a source of
pleasure.
—The latest news from Paris says
that it is very interesting to notice
at the present moment how fiourish-
ing is passementerie of every sort.
Never have there been so many gal-
ons, and I think during the coming
winter we shall see more and more.
They are of every width, and are ar-
ranged in graduated stripes, from the
narrowest to the widest, and dimin-
ishing again to the very marrow; or
they are also arranged in squares or
arabesques. Buttons give the bril-
liant and recherche note that indicates
the grand maison. One sees them
still’ in the form of an upright line
on the corsage and skirt, outlining
pockets and trimming sleeves, though
on principle I do not like, and find
illogical, buttons that have not at
least the impression of fastening
something. I am obliged to confess
that the row of jade buttons scaling
a little mountain or sports cap of
white cloth bordered with fur and
trimmed with multi colored ribbon and
green buttons is entirely in its place.
As for belts, every sort of fantasy is
permitted—fruit, flowers, birds and
garlands in every material from ev-
ery country.
—Children’s frocks and wraps are
coming more and more of replica in
miniature of their elders. The little
cloaks for small people are charming,
and some of them are very beauti-
fully embroidered by hand. In Paris
their short white coats, worn with
muslin dresses and carried out in
cloth and serge have the sleeves em-
broidered in quasi-Oriental colors and
designs, exactly after the manner of
their elders.
—A wonderful frock for evening
wear is made of lemon-colored geor-
gette embroidered in nut brown.
——Subscribe for the “Watchman.”
: thing should be
ter and condition
_—— HY
FARM NOTES.
Things to Consider in Planting an
Orchard.
Before planning the orchard some-
known of the charac-
of the soil.
are often made, and trees reas
ordered before it is determined wheth-
er the land available has had sufficient
preparation a Shisin best results,
also whether ite i
Cuable the site is really
ne of the first essentials is drain-
age. Soil that is not naturally Er
ed had better not be utilized for an-
other year and steps taken at once to
drain it. Fruit trees will not thrive
in soil where water lies on the sur-
face for any length of time
or where the ground water comes
close to the surface. If the roots are
in stagnant water the tr i
3 Jan rees will be
Another
; } point is to. avoid low land
if possible, even though it is drained
or can be drained. This is particu-
larly important, if there is higher
ground close: about it, as early fall
frosts will be more severe on low
ground than if the trees are on a
slope where there will be better air
drainage, and where the trees will be
at a little higher elevation.
A strong southern or southwestern
slope should be avoided if possible
in the other districts, as there is
greater danger from sunscald on such
than on other slopes. But if the trees
are headed low so that the trunk is
protected more or less from the di-
rect rays of the sun, there should be
little injury from a southern or south-
western slope. A well-drained slope
of any aspect is much better than
poorly drained bottom land.
In the colder districts the sandy
loams with open sub-soils are best
for apples, while in the warmer sec
tions the heavier clay loams, provid-
ed there is good drainage, are, per-
haps, the most satisfactory. Where
the seasons are rather short, clay
loams should be avoided, as growth
is likely to be later there, anc the
trees will not be so well ripened for
winter. Thoroughly ripened wood is
of the greatest importance. Peaches
and cherries, particularly sweet cher-
ries, need the warmest and best-drain-
ed soils that are available. Plums
and pears succeed well on the heavier
soils if well drained, but do well on
the lighter soils also.
There are locations where trees
will absolutely die if planted in sod
land, there not being enough moisture
for both trees and sod, and the sod,
bene established, will utilize the most
of it.
To obtain good tree growth the soil
should be moderately warm, the air
should penetrate readily to release
plant food, and there should be suffi-
cient but not too much moisture.
When trees are planted in sod the air
does not penetrate readily, the soil
does not warm up quickly and, while
plant food may be abundant, there
may not be much available.
While the sod-mulch method of
growing trees give very good results
under certain conditions, it is not in-
tended for trees which have Just been
planted. When the sod-mulch method
is adopted it is usually after the trees
are well established when the ground
is seeded down to grass, and when
sod is found the grass is cut and a pile
put about each tree. This kills out
the sod about the tree, allows air to
penetrate readily and conserves mois-
ture.
When ordering trees select such
different varieties to fruit at different
seasons, so that the picking season
will extend over a long period and
not be confined to a few days near
winter, when there is a big rush and
probably a scarcity of pickers. By
having the picking season extended
from early in the summer until late
in the fall, by having a fair propor-
tion of early, medium and late varie-
ties, a congestion of work will be
avoided. It is, of course, not desir-
able to have many varieties of one
kind of fruit, as large quantities of
a few sorts can usually be sold much
more readily and profitably than
smaller quantities of many varieties.
Five or six varieties of each fruit, or
less, will give a long picking season.
Experiments have shown that many
varieties of fruits are more or less
self-sterile, and that better crops will
be obtained if varieties blooming at
the same time are mixed in the or-
chard, so that the pollen of one
reaches the pistill of the other. Some
seasons the time when the weather is
favorable for pollination is very lim-
ited. Insects do a large proportion
of the pollination, and if the weather
is wet and cold they will not work
well. Futhermore, if the weather is
cold, even if pollination has been af-
fected, fertilization or setting may
not take place, as it takes too long
after pollination for the fertilizing
agent to reach the ovary, and it may
never reach there, hence the import-
ance of adopting every known method
of hastening the fertilization of the
flowers.
Two practical ways in which this
can be done is to keep bees in the or-
chard and to alternate the varieties
planting two or three rows of one and
then two or three rows of another
which bloom at the same time, and
so on. Of course, no bees will be
needed for a mewly-planted orchard.
—Injury may be avoided by plant-
ing wheat a week or ten days later
than the average for the section.
—It is well to have the land ready
where cultivated orchards are to be
seeded to a rye cover crop, so that
seeding can be done early in Sep-
tember.
—Keep celery and cabbage on the
move. A manure mulch or slight ap-
plication of nitrate of soda will do
the work.
—If you have a good second growth
of clover and plenty of hay on hand,
allow it to ripen; cut and thresh for
seed. It is valuable.
—Care should be taken in feeding
new oats to horses, as a dangerous
form of colic is apt to result. They
should be introduced into the ration
gradually.
—All young stock should be so cull-
ed that only the best pullets are re-
tained. All cockerels not to be used
as breeders should be disposed of as
broilers provided they weigh one and
one-half pounds. Locate male birds
now for the next breeding season.