Bellefonte, Pa., January 7, 1921.
DREAMER AND DOER.
A dreamer and a doer
Were born the selfsame day,
Grew up and dwelt together
In comrade work and play.
The dreamer sent his fancy
On classic fields to roam,
The doer fashioned temples
From common clay, at home
The dreamer saw a kingdom
‘Where right ruled everything,
Where justice dwelt with liberty
And every man was king. /
The doer sought triumphant
Through hatred, pain and dearth,
To bring the Kingdom nearer
Or peace, good will on earth.
The dreamer saw his Master,
Compassionate and mild.
The doer toiled and suffered—
Lifted the crippled child.
Led forth the blind and erring,
Till in his face men saw
The Master's spirit shining
And touched his robe in awe.
. How could that mystic dreamer
Such wondrous visions see?
“How could.the toil-worn doer
: Rise to such mastery?
+ How could the dreamer triumph?
How could the doer plan?
Ah! You have read the answer!
~ ... They were the selfsame man!
(7 C Fare forth, my valiant doer,
© Where storm-tossed pennons gleam,
“" But lose not, in thy striving,
“The vision and the dream!
a —Bartlett Brooks.
_ SHORTY AND THE SOUL LIGHT-
5 ERS.
.Ah-ha! So you pulled samething
“out of the Christmas grab bag that
“you ain’t ashamed to sport, eh? Come
“off! Ain’t that a new pearl stickpin?
"Thought so. Oh, I know all about the
“rest of it, too. You're finishing the
festive season with a crimp in your
“bank roll and a fresh box of indiges-
“tion tablets; but think of the fun
§ou’ve had!
‘No? Well, say, then you’ve been
tryin’ to run through on a grown up
"basis, leavin’ out the youngsters?
‘Don’t come around here lookin’ for
‘Sympathy in that case; for, unless you
can produce credentials from some
‘kid delegates, you ain’t got any more
cright tryin’ to butt in on the Santa
«Claus stunt than a monkey has at a
cat show. No wonder you look like
«the Grand Grouch of the Bilioustine
Brotherhood! Get in line! that’s my
«tip.
::- Me? Well, there’s little Sullivan
McCabe, ain’t there? Course, he’s
some young to get all the joy out of
it that he will later; but I don’t be-
lieve in savin’ such things up. This
is a shifty world, and my idea is to
give him all the fun that’s coming to
“him while it’s on hand to pass out.
v2:So when it begins to get along to-
wards the glad Christmastide, me and | says, on a chance. ;
.. Sadie starts in plannin’ how we'll do
|
“Fine,”
along fast.
says IL “You're getting
It’s on the first finger; so
that means it begins with A. Is it
apples or—" : ;
“Attison!” shouts Sadie. “Their
wire was out of order when I calied
them up yesterday, and I haven't
thought of it since. You must run
right over, Shorty, and tell them to
have little Mallory here by seven
o’clock, when we light up the tree.”
“Huh!” says I. “Can’t you send—"
“No you can’t,” says Sadie. “And
it won’t take you ten minutes.”
“Catch me working out any more
clues!” I grumbles gettin’ my coat on.
Not that I minds the walk. What I
objects to is this making an afternoon
call on folks that I'd got through try-
in’ to be chummy with almost before
I began. Curse, livin’ so near each
other, we always passed a nod or the
time of day when we met; but that’s
as far as it had ever gone. I'd made
up my mind soon after they moved
out here that the Attisons wa’n’t ex-
actly our kind; and I expect, if you'd
asked them, they’d said the same of
us. You know how it is, no bill of
par’ticlars ever framed up, only just
a case of stand-off on both sides.
All I had against him was that he
always wore baby blue neckties and
yellow chamois gloves. That and his
stiff-kneed way of walkin’ would have
made me hold out for conviction in
the first degree if I'd ever been called
on a jury against him. He’s one of
‘these big kind of pie faced ducks that
seems tryin’ to hide how soft they are
by lookin’ solemn and actin’ pompous.
If I hadn’t heard he was second |
vice president of a big bonding com- !
pany, and that Mrs. Attison had more |
or less dough of her own, I'd thought !
their livin’ in that swell stucco cottage |
with the tile roof was just part of his
bluff; but, so far as cash and fam’ly
connections went, there was no deny-
in’ they was the real things, her being
one of the Rye Neck Spinners. Course,
old man Spinner went batty on the
spook business, so they say, and
would have left most of his pile to
some freak slate writin’ medium if
they hadn’t bust up the will; but the
fam’ly was still in the dinner dance
crowd, just the same.
All Sadie would ever say about ’em
was that Mrs. Attison was rather cute
lookin’. She’s one of these fair-skin-
ned ash blondes, with a lot of wheat
colored hair, dark eyes, and a well
plumped out figure that looks stylish
in any old costume she happens to
throw on. Sadie finds her pleasant
enough at times; but never twice
alike. One day Mrs. Attison would
gush all over her, and the next she’d
hand her the chilly stare, a line of
business which don’t work up any en-
thusiasm on our side of the fence.
When it comes to making a kid
round-up of the neighborhood, though,
we don’t play any favorites. So I
turns up my collar and hikes down the
road wearin’ my best good-will-to-al!
grin, and prepares to request the priv- :
ilege of havin’ young Mr. Mallory At- i
tison assist on a Santa Claus recep- |
tion committee. And the first jolt I!
gets is when a scared lookin’ maid |
opens the door a few inches and an-
nounces that Mrs. Attison ain’t to!
home.
“How about Mr. Attison, then?” 1
Yes, she says he’s in; but she don’t |
things this year. Now, we ain’t great | think he’s seein’ anybody.
on the social splurge act; but we like
to have comp’ny around as weil as the ' down the furnace or something like
next ones, and we're as glad to have | that?
your friends run out to dinner unex-
-. pected on corned beef nights as when
~we’ve laid in turkey and trimmin’s on | and with that I pushes in.
- a three day’s warnin’. Also we don’t
take any pride in stickin’ to one par- | “I don’t think he—that
Purdy-Pells, | he’s in there!
well and good; but they're liable to be i self.”
tic’lar set. If it’s the
paired off with Snick Butters, or Rus-
ty Quinn, or Mr, and Mrs. Hank Mer-
rity from out Bedalia way, and if any- : son!
one wants to tuck his napkin under
the top button of his vest, there won’t | noon, and the room is sort of dark;
be any asparagus cast on his table but there’s a little blaze in the fire-
manners.
And especially we plans to make
our Christmas Eve doin’s free for all.
In gettin’ up the list of invited guests
we don’t have any more use for the
social register than we do for the tel-
ephone book or a seed catalogue. Lit-
tle Sully, he don’t show any signs of
bein’ exclusive yet, and this is his par-
ty, from Ab to Zuni.
“Let’s see,” says Sadie, “there’ll be
Pinckney’s twins, and the three Tid-
well children down the road, and the
two Olsens from the gardener’s cot-
tage next door.”
“And I'll tell Pasquale to have his
wife bring over little Shorty McCah-
by Paggliocini, my namesake,” says
I; “you know, the one that’s the same
age of Sully.”
“Certainly,” says Sadie. “And we
must’nt forget to invite that cute lit-
tle Attison boy, over on Cliffside
Ave.”
“Just as you say,” says I
Well we had the tree brought in and
set up, and we hung holly and roping
and wreaths until the house looked
like a Ben Greet stage setting, and
we'd filled candy cornucopias and pop-
ped corn and cracked nuts until I had
blisters on my fingers and a crick in
my neck. I'd come home every night
for two weeks luggin’ packages of
every diff’rent kind of toys I could
find, and I’d been roasted good by all
the women folks because I'd brought
out a set of tools and an air rifle for
Sully; but I couldn’t expect to get
through without making some break,
could I?
However, things was shapin’ up fine
for the grand celebration, and I was
takin’ a day off to put the finishin’
touches to the decorations, or get in
the way tryin’, when I notices Sadie
stickin’ out one finger tied up with a
piece of baby ribbon and lookin’ kind
of wild at it.
“Now, what on earth is that for?”
says she.
“Is it a new fad?” says I. “Or may-
be you thought you was bandagin’ up
a sliver.”
“Silly!” says she. “It’s so I should
not forget something.”
“Oh!” says I. “Great scheme!
What was it?” :
“Just as though I should be asking
if I knew!” says she, and she stares
hard at the finger. :
“Try turnin’ around three times
with your eyes shut and then see what
it aims at,” says I.
“No,” says she.
5 kh “It was something
—something—
|
{
|
i
i
‘an easy chair, I can make out Atti-
| without sendin’ in a card on the tray,”
| says I; “but Mrs.
“Shavin’, is he,” says I, “or shakin’
Oh, that’ll be;all right. I'm
only one of the neighbors, you know.
I'll just shout up the stairs at him,”
“But—but,” stammers the maid,—
is— Well,
You can see for your-
“All right,” says I, and then lets
out a real cheery hail. “Hello, Atti-
All by your lonesome, eh?”
It’s gettin’ kind of late in the after-
place, and in front of it, sunk down in
son. Before he can come back with
the frosty greetings I'm there with
the hearty follow-up.
“Excause me for breakin’ through
McCabe sent me
around to say how—"
Then, I got a better look at him and
see the slump to his shoulders and
how his chin is down on his chest, I
begins to suspicion something has
gone wrong.
“Well, well!” says I. “Having a
little whirl with the grip, are you?
Or is it a hang-over head from last
night’s fraternity dinner? Ah, cheer
up and poke the fire!”
Say, you’ve got no idea how light
and frivolous I can converse when I
try real hard. It don’t take me long,
though, to find I ain’t makin’ any first
night hit. After one glance up to see
who it is, Attison drops his chin again,
without favorin’ me with a single re-
mark. It wan’t what you might call
a boisterous welcome.
“Huh!” I grunts. “Maybe you think
I ambled over here to indulge in mer-
ry monologue! Say, Mr. Attison, I
don’t know what your partic’lar
grouch is, and blamed if I care a
hoot; but this is Christmas Eve and
I’m prepared to overlook a lot!”
“I beg pardon,” says he, rousin’ up,
“but—but I have just had a severe
blow. A—a dreadful thing has hap-
pened, Mr. McCabe.” Then I notices
the sheet of notepaper he’s holdin’
limp in his hand.
“What!” says I. “The cook ain’t
handed in her resignation, has she?”
He sighs and shakes his head. “It
—it’s a personal matter, Mr. McCabe,”
says he, “something I cannot talk
about. I—I— Oh, I must tell some
one! It’s about Mrs. Attison. She's
—she has gone!”
“Eh?” says I. “Skipped off on a
visit?”
“No, no!” he groans, puttin’ his
hands up to his face and rockin’ back
and forth. “She has—has left me for
—forever!”
“Whe-e-ew!” says I. “That is some
of a jolt, ain’t it?”
I expect there was other words that
might have fitted the case better; but
I couldn’t think of them. And it’s
such a surprise, too! Why, whenever
I've seen the Attison’s together any-
where it’s been nothin’ but swappin’
“Oh, deary darling,” and “Yes, sweet-
heart,” or “Honey pet.” I've walked
behind ’em clear up from the station,
watchin’ ’em swing hands all the way
and go to a Romeo clinch the minute
they got inside their gate.
Now me and Sadie get along more
or less smooth. We don’t heave the
breakfast crockery at each other, or
chuck the sarcastic harpoon across the
dinner table; but we don’t feel called
on to give any mushy exhibitions in
public. That’s been the Attisons’
specialty, though; so this sudden
bulletin about a clean break-away
leaves me up in the air.
Course, my first thought is that he
ain’t such a heavy loser, after all; but
something seemed to tell me that
wouldn’t be such a soothin’ reflection
to put out just then. And yet, some-
how, I couldn’t get wildly sympathet-
ic. I don’t know how I'd behave if
such a proposition was batted up to
me; but it don’t strike me I'd sit very
long with my head in my hands, let-
tin’ out the groans. Either I'd want
to celebrate the event proper, or else
I’d feel like rushin’ out and qualifyin’
some one for the accident ward. But
Attison, he acts just as soft as he
looks, and the best I can do is give
him an openin’ to rehearse the details
of the tragedy.
Is it one of them thrillin’, redhedi-
tary, Robert Chambers souse scan-
dals,” says I, “or just a casual fam’ly
riot 7”
“I—I don’t know,” says he. “We
have been drifting apart for months.
Our interests are no longer common
ones. She is very intellectual, you
know.”
“You don’t say!” says I. “I never
would have—er—that is, she’s a high-
brow, eh?”
“She has gone from one thing to
another,” he trails on. “At first it
| was New Thought, then Theosophy,
then Buddhism; but she’s been worse
than ever since she became one of the
Souls of Light.”
“Souls of Light!” says I. “That’s a
new one on me. Branch of the Edi-
son General Electric?”
My guess wa’n’t anong the also-
rans.
a collection of free and fancy think-
ers that had the Sunrise Club looking
like a Mothers’ Congress. The things
them Souls of Lighters didn’t belicve
in left the Ten Commandments as full
of holes as a Swiss cheese, and what !
they did believe would have raised a
blush on a brass monkey.
Seems that Mrs. Attison had got in
with some nutty female that had tow-
ed her into this new aggregation of
freaks, and the first thing Attison
knew she was handin’ him some views
on matrimonial slavery that gave him
chills down the spine. Being a plain,
everyday sort of chap, with most of
his ideas mixed up with the bondin’
business, she had Attison out on a top
branch.
“Well,” says_I, kind of uneasy that
I couldn’t feel any worse about it,
“women will give you the double cross
that way now and then; but maybe
yow’ll get over it sooner’n you think.
And that reminds me. How about let-
tin’ the youngster come over to our
Christmas tree racket? He’s here,
ain’t he?”
“Mallory!” says Attison, startin’ up
kind of wild. “Why, I—I believe!so.
I hope to heaven she hasn’ taken him!
I wonder if— Come on, McCabe, help
me look for him!”
With that he starts tearin’ through
the house, callin’ for Mallory, and
when he takes to the stairs, bug eyed
and desp’rate, I follows. It wa’n’t a
long search. Up in one of the front
rooms, that I guesses must be Mrs.
Attison’s by the drygoods thrown
around, and sound asleep on the bed
with his head wrapped up in one of
her dresses, is the kid.
And say, for a five-year-old he’s
about as cute and cunnin’ a youngster
as you'd want to see, with that light
hair and them big, round, dark eyes of
his. The lids was all red, though,
when Attison wakes him up, and by
the tear stains you could see he’d cried
himself to sleep. His first remark is
aimed straight at the bullseye.
“Where’s my muvver ?” says he.
“There, there, Mallory!” begins At-
tison. “You mustn’t ask about your
—your—" and then he chokes up.
“I want my muvver!” insists Mal-
lory. “She goed away and wouldn’t
tiss me, not once. Boo-hoo, boo-hoo!”
And say, right there is where I
starts to get interested. “Attison,”
says I, leadin’ him out into the hall,
“this begins to look like a mighty
punk Christmas for the kid, don’t it?”
Attison only leans against the wall
and groans.
“Ah, cut out the emotion,” says I.
“That don’t help any. Now what
move are you going to make to get
that youngster’s mother back to
him ?”
“I—I don’t know,” says he.
“How long has she been gone?”
says I.
“Since noon,
says Attison.
“Huh!” says I. “Know where this
light souled bunch hangs out?”
He says they have headquarters in
the Hotel Perzazzer.
“Well,” says I, “then it’s up to you
to chase yourself down there, hunt up
Mrs. Attison, and bring her back.”
And just as if he had his cue, little
Mallory breaks loose with more sobs.
“Qh, I couldn’t, I couldn’t!” moans
Attison. “I—I wouldn't know what
to say to her.”
“You wouldn’t, eh?” says I. “Well,
I would, and hanged if I ain’t got a
Hind to try it, just on account of the
31
“But suppose,” he begins,—*“sup-
pose—"
“Ah, quit supposin’ and get busy!”
says I, startin’ down the stairs.
It was more or less of a bluff, on
my part, I admit; but by the time I'd
sketched out the situation to Sadie,
and had her agree and pat me on the
back a few times, I was worked up to
any kind of darin’ deeds.
“She’s so rattled brained and mul-
ish,” says Sadie, “that I doubt if you
can make her listen to anything sen-
sible; but at least you can tell her just
what we think of her.”
“Just can’t I though!” says I.
“And while you're gone I'll have the
little boy brought over here,” says she.
“Now hurry!”
I had luck catchin’ a train; so inside
of an hour I'm at the Perzazzer, get-
tin’ my friends at the desk to put me
wise about this Souls of Light crowd.
There's a session on for that evenin’,
the maid tells me,”
According to Attison this was |
they tells me, in one of the small ban-
quet rooms, and the head promoter
has a suite on the ’steenth floor.
“You'll find some of his admirers
waiting for him now, over by the ele-
vator,” says Billy Donovan, the foxy
house detective.
Sure enough, they’re lined up on
the gilt chairs, about a dozen of ’em.
And on the further end of the row is
Mrs. Attison, all got up in her swell
regalia, holdin’ a bunch of orchids in
her hands. As there wa’n’t any time
to lose, 1 waltzes right over.
“Mrs. Attison,” says I, “I’ve just
been having a session with your hus-
band.”
“Indeed!” says she. “I fear I'm
not in the least interested.”
“Maybe not,” says I; “but there’s a
youngster out there who’s a lot in-
t’rested in you.
missin’ muvver.”
She bites her lip at that but ends by :
shruggin’ her shoulders.
tal state is certain to produce many
sordid tragedies,” says she. “Pardon
my not continuing the discussion, Mr.
McCabe,” and she turns her back on
me square. ‘there was I, too, with all
them cuttin’ sentime.ts still bottled
up inside ‘of me.
“But look here, Irs. Attison!” says
I. “I want you to know that—”
“Main floor!” sings out the elevator
boy, and out steps a flessy gent in five
o’clock tea uniform,—sill: faced frock
coat, carnation in his buttonhocle, and
curly iron gray hair all shampooed
like a Frecach poodle. Also there’s a
rush for him from the female delega-
tion, with Mrs. Atticon jeinin’ in right
near the head of the procession.
For a minute it looked like a Pad-
erewski reception, and the gent bows
and smiles right and left; but all of a
sudden his grin fades. A black eyed,
shabby dressed little woman pushes to
the front, shakes her fist under
nose, and hisses out, “Wretch!”’
Next a fat middle aged woman
grabs him by the left arm, whirls him
around, and remarks real passionate,
1 “Deceiver! Villian!”
| He hadn’t any more’n gasped twice
and begun to stammer out something,
than two more perfect ladies pitched
in with spicy conversation along the
same lines. One yanks the flower off
his coat and stamps on it; another
gives a savage pull at his puff tie;
and the fat party, with a squawk like
a hen flyin’ through a window, hauls
off and lands a flat handed smack
right across his face.
That starts the riot for fair. Some
of the ladies screamed, some tried to
pull off fatty, and the little black
eyed one, grabbin’ a bunch of long
stemmed roses from one of the admir-
ers, begun thrashin’ the flossy gent
his
parlor rug.
Say, almost anywhere else than in
the Perzazzer this muss would have de-
veloped until it would have taken a
squad of reserves to have straighten-
ed it out; but here it ain’t more’n got
i nicely under way before Billy Dono-
i van and three of his rubber heeled as-
| sistants is on the job. In two shakes
the gent has been hustled out of sight
into the manager’s office and seven of
the women have been shooed into an
elevator and distributed on diff’rent
floors. All there is left of the disturb-
ance is a few rose leaves on the car-
pet and a little group of sheepish look-
in’ females who take one glance at
each other and then begin beatin’ it
for the fresh air by separate exits.
Now I don’t know any more about |
the Souls of Lighters than I did be-
fore, or what the flossy gent had done
to bring on the rough house commit-
tee; for there wa’n’t a word in the pa-
pers next day. All I know is that me
and Mrs. Attison gets the six-three
express out to Scuindmere and lands
at our front door just as Pinckney
turns the button that lights up the
Christmas tree.
“Is my darling here?”
Mrs. Attison.
“Oh, yes,” says Sadie, pointin’ over
to a corner of the room, “both of your
darlings are here, Mrs. Attison.”
How did they fix it up? Don’t ask
me. I was too busy doin’ fool stunts
for the kids to keep track of the Atti-
sons; but every time I noticed ’em
they seemed to be looking mighty
pleased and contented, so I guess the
light souled business is off the cards
for good.
Anyway, we had a full house at lit-
tle Sully’s second Christmas party,
and if it helped boost the peace-on-
earth game any, then so much the bet-
ter.—By Sewell Ford, in Sunday Mag-
azine.
demands
Spraying Old Orchards Brings Great
Results.
Prior to this season two Carbon
county farmers had to go to their
neighbors to obtain their family apple
supply. Both had ancient apple orch-
ards on their farms which they count-
ed as so much dead wood. But last
spring they were persuaded to use the
ordinary sprays for the control of in-
sect pests and diseases. As a result,
A. M. Diehl harvested a crop of 1850
bushels from a fair sized orchard, and
C. A. Sensinger marketed 950 bush-
els of first class apples from a fifty
year old orchard. County Farm
Agent Nicholas Rahn and H. E.
Hodgkiss, plant insect specialists at
The Pennsylvania State College, who
supervised the experiment, are just as
much pleased by the results as these
Lehighton farmers.
Another Carbon county farmer, Q.
E. Hahn, of East Mauch Chunk, had
an orchard that was 385 years old with
a five year average yield of only 125
bushels. He also sprayed and gather-
ed 2250 bushels of 95 per cent. perfect
apples which netted him a clear prof-
it of almost $2000. Professor Hodg-
kiss asserts that there is much money
to be obtained from old Pennsylvania
orchards, and in the near future will
be able to announce the results of sim-
ilar experiments conducted last year
in 25 orchards in 12 counties.
-
A Winner, but—
“Hello, old man. Been in an air-
plane smash?”
“No, only made a fool bet.”
“What was it?”
“Jones bet me I didn’t dare tell my
wife my real opinion of some of her
relations, and I won.”
“The mari- |
over the head like she was beatin’ a |
Five Million Trees Used in U. S. on
Christmas.
Uncle Sam’s nephews are strong for
Christmas trees and they use about
five million every year, says the
American Forestry Association, which
is conducting the national voting
campaign to find what those nephews
think should be our national tree.
Votes are coming in from every sec-
tion of the country. When we consid-
er a population of 110,000,000, the
number of trees used is not so large,
but it is larger than the number used
by any country on earth. The profit-
, eers were badly stung last year when
the public refused to pay high prices
. for trees and thousands of them were
| Drown away in large population cen-
ers.
trees comes up every year and the as-
| sociation receives many letters in re-
' gard to this practice. Intelligent cut-
ting of the smaller trees really aids
: the growth of the more mature trees.
To New York and New England are
: sent more than a million trees. Black
and red spruce are very commonly
seen in celebrations in these parts of
the country. Illinois and Ohio nurse-
rymen partly supply the local demand
with nursery-grown Norway spruce.
Pines are in great demand for Christ-
mas trees when fir and spruce are not
available. Maryland, Virginia and the
District of Columbia use the scrub
pine, while in southern Wyoming the
Lodge Pole pine is almost the only
species available.
Some favor the hemlock, but its
slender, springy branches are better
adapted to the manufacture of so-
- called fancy greens. Some arborvitae
are shipped among firs and spruce to
New York and Philadelphia. Red ce-
dar is often shipped to the treeless
| States and is much used in Tennessee
and Pennsylvania. In California red
‘cedar and incense cedar are not un-
common.
New Hampshire, Vermont, Maine,
the Berkshire Hills in Massachusetts,
and the Adirondacks and Catskills in
New York furnish this supply for
New York, Philadelphia and Boston,
and even for Baltimor: and Wash-
ington. The swamps of Michigan,
Wisconsin and Minnessin ‘urnish the
! markets for Chicago, {5 “aul, Minne-
apolis and the cities
| States. Christmas tree ships bring
| greenery from the upper peninsula of
i Michigan to Chicago and Detroit. In
{ the Northeastern and Lake States bal-
| sam fir furnishes the bulk of the
| Christmas tree trade. In the South
| the Fraser fir is the favorite. In Col-
{orado and other Rocky mountain
| States fir, though abundant, is diffi-
{cult of access, and the Lodge Pole
| pine and occasionally the Douglas fir
and Engleman spruce are used. On
the Pacific Coast the Christmas tree
| is often the white fir.
In the national vote being taken by
the American Forestry Association,
| the elm, the oak and the walnut main-
{tain a position among the first three
in popular esteem. The hickory and
the apple find many friends.—Ex.
Only Three Grades of Milk.
Three grades of milk only, may be
sold in Pennsylvania under the pro-
| posed legislation endorsed by repre-
. sentatives of the milk producers and
{ milk dealers, the Pennsylvania State
{ Grange, the Department of Agricul-
“ture and the State Department of
Meeting in conference in Harris-
burg, December 22nd, they further de-
cided that no persons having commu-
nicable diseases shall be permitted to
have anything to do with the produc-
tion and distribution of milk in the
State.
The producers and dealers for some
months past have been at loggerheads
on the question of milk control, but
have reached an agreement by which
the control of milk after it leaves the
cow and
sumers, shall
State department of health. Previous
to that time it was under the jurisdic-
tion of the Department of Agricul-
ture.
Certified milk, grade A raw, and
pasteurized milk were settled upon as
the classifications to be used.
Certified milk was defined as
product of dairies operated in accord-
ance with the “Methods and Stand-
ards for the Production and Distribu-
tion of Certified Milk” adopted by the
American Association of Medical
Milk Commissions, May 1, 1912.
Grade A milk is that milk which
comes from a herd each member of
which is free from communicable dis-
ease as determined by complete phys-
ical examination and tuberculin test.
Such examination and test is to be
made by a veterinarian whose compe-
tency and reliability must be certified
by the Pennsylvania Bureau of Ani-
mal Industry.
Pasteurization, after differences of
opinion on the part of dealers, was de-
fined as the heating of milk to a tem-
perature of approximately 145 de-
grees and not less than 142, and keep-
ing it there for not less than thirty
minutes.
Final action on the proposed legis-
lation was postponed until January
5th, when the Department of Health
and the Department of Agriculture
met to draft the Act of Assembly to
be definitely acted upon at that con-
ference.
The following men attended the
meeting:
The Hon. Fred Rasmussen, secre-
tary State Department of Agricul-
ture; M. S. McDowell, Department of
Agriculture Extension, State College;
Dr. Frederick Van Sickle, representa-
tive from the State Medical Society;
W. S. Wise, director of the Dairy-
man’s Co-operative Sales company;
F. P. Willits, president of {he Inter-
State Producers’ association, and R.
W. Balderston, also of the Inter-State
Milk Producers’ association; John A.
MecSparran, of the State Grange;
Ralph E. Irwin, of the State Depart-
ment of Health.
Colonel John D. McLean, Deputy
Commissioner of Health, presided.
-—We hear several citizens brag-
ging about fine, fat hogs they have
been butchering, but it takes back-
bones and spareribs to make us be-
lieve such tales. Bring on your evi-
dence, gents.—Arkansas Plain Dealer.
When I loft he was | The question of cutting Christmas
bustin’ his little heart, cryin’ for his !
of the plains"
is distributed to the con-_
be directly under the !
the :
FARM NOTES.
—Black knot can be controlled only
by cutting out all infected wood—cut
back to good, healthy wood and burn
all prunings.
—Lat fall or early winter spraying
of peach trees for San Jose Secale and
peach leaf curl yields larger dividends
than spring spraying.
—Every farmer should keep some
sort of account system of his busi-
ness. It should show the profit and
loss of all his operations.
—Wart immune potatoes for seed
purposes, grown under the direction
of the State authorities, will be tag-
ged, sealed and distributed to the
growers in the infected areas, for use
in growing next season’s crop.
—Remove all cedar trees from the
vicinity of the apple trees so that
there will be no more damage from
the cedar rust on the fruit trees. One-
quarter mile is the shortest distance
advisable between cedar trees and ap-
ple trees.
—Pruning grape vines is absolutely
essential in order that the best size of
fruit and cluster, as well as flavor, be
attained. If the vines are not pruned
they will produce smaller bunches and
fruits, the berries will lack flavor and
color, the bunches will not ripen even-
ly and the wood will not ripen proper-
ly. When too great amount of wood
is left there will be a large crop that
vear but, due to the wood failing to
ripen there will be a short crop the
following year.
Definite directions for the pruning
of grape vines cannot be given, how-
ever, because the conditions vary so
you must decide for yourself just how
much wood to leave. You will be gov-
erned by such local conditions as cli-
mate, soil, adaptability of variety, till-
age or lack of tillage, fertilization,
yield and wood growth of the previous
year and the system of training.
Pruning the vines can be done at
any time after the leaves fall until the
buds start in the spring. The sooner
the pruning is done the better because
there will be less “bleeding” from the
wounds and the loss of sap cannot
help but be devitalizing. It is better
not to prune when the canes are froz-
en because at that time they are as
brittle as pipe stems.
—The Bureau of Animal Industry,
Pennsylvania Department of Agricul-
ture, have issued a warning to veter-
inarians, stock dealers, stock yard of-
ficials and others to keep a sharp look-
out for the appearance of the hoof and
mouth disease in this State. The dis-
ease is raging in Europe and has in-
vaded the Jersey Island for the first
time.
While there is no evidence that the
disease is present anywhere in this
country yet, Dr. T. E. Munce, head of
the bureau of animal industry, be-
lieves that with the cattlemen of
Pennsylvania on the alert, the malady
will have little chance of gaining a
stronghold should it appear in the
United States.
The letter, which is being sent
broadcast throughout the State, fol-
lows:
“Foot and mouth disease is raging
in a number of European countries,
and for the first time in history has
invaded the Island of Jersey.
“Federal officials are taking every
possible precaution to prevent the in-
troduction of this dreaded disease in-
to our country. Therefore, it is very
essential that veterinarians, county
agents, stockmen and others who
come in contact with livestock to be
on the lookout for any sign of this
disease and to report promptly all
suspicious cases coming under their
observation.
“Cattle, hogs, sheep or goats with
sore mouths or feet should be regard-
ed as suspicious and reported prompt-
ly to the nearest agent of the Bureau.
“Please pass the word along and
thus help to keep Pennsylvania and
the country free from this devastat-
ing disease.”
i —An extensive exhibit of Pennsyl-
‘ vania grown vegetables will be one of
| the features of the fifth annual farm
| products show, which will be held in
: Harrisburg, January 24-28. The veg-
!etables will comprise the choicest
i from every section and the exhibits
i receiving first honors will be entitled
to all State championship honors.
Following are the rules governing
the vegetable exhibits, the classes and
prizes:
Entries are open to all vegetable
growers in Pennsylvania, and all ex-
hibits must have been grown in Penn-
sylvania by other exhibitors.
No more than one entry in any one
class will be accepted from the same
individual.
Marketable value will be given
preference in judging.
In classes 2 to 9 inclusive, the
judges will give attention to the type
of package, its attractiveness and
general adaptability to local market
or shipping purposes; and to grading
and packing as well as to the quality
of the produce itself.
All exhibits must be in place Janu-
ary 24, 1921, so that they may be set
up and judged Tuesday night.
Apply to W. B. Nissley, State Col-
lege, Pa., or to your county agent for
entry blanks and shipping tags.
Class 1. Best collection exhibit of
all kinds of vegetables. Premium:
first, $25.00; second, $15.00; third,
$10.00.
Class 2. One dozen stalks celery,
any named variety. Premium: first,
$4.00; second, $3.00.
Class 3. Commercial package of
Witloof Chicory—not less than three
pounds. Premium: first, $4.00; sec-
ond, $2.00.
Class 4. Commercial package of
greenhouse tomatoes—not less than
five pounds. Premium: first, $4.00;
second, $2.00.
Class 5. Commercial package of
greenhouse lettuce—not less than
three pounds. Premium: first, $3.00;
second, $2.00.
Class 6. Commercial
onions—any named variety.
um: first, $5.00; second, $3.00.
Class 7. Commercial package of
carrots—any named variety. Premi-
um: first, $4.00; second, $2.00.
Class 8. Commercial package of
turnips—any named variety. Premi-
um: first, $4.00; second, $2.00.
Class 9. Commercial package of
beets—any named variety. Premium:
first, $4.00; second, $2.00.
package of
Premi-