LR
AN
Re
AY Y
(Concluded).
CHAPTER XVII.
Payment in Full.
Eilith Deven, with the small black
bag in her hand. crept out of the Pen-
dlehaven garden, unapprehensive. She
had no power to think—no desire to go
anywhere or do anything. She lin-
gered about [’endlehaven place until
the morning dawned. During the hours
preceding daylight she studied over
the events of the afternoon and eve-
ning. As her mind cleared. all her
love for Uriah rose up and clameored
to help him. She remembered leaving
him stretched out on the floor as if he
were dead. When the town below be-
gan to show signs of day she walked
back into Pendlehaven place and slow-
1y up to the house.
It was a servant who ushered Mrs.
Devon into the library where Doctor
John and Doctor Paul still sat, strug-
gling with the mystery that had eome
into their usually quiet home. After
vainly trying to force more than mono-
syllabic replies from Tonnibel, they
had put her to bed, gibbering ith
fright.
Edith advanced to the middle of the
room, aoiding the little bag in her
hand, looking first at Docter John, whe
tried unsuccessfully to recall where he
had seen her, and then at Doctor Paul.
“Where's my man, my Uriah?’ she
asked hoarsely, and then Doctor John
recognized her and rose te his feet.
“You got my husband here with a bit
sf lead in im,” went on Edith, me
notonously. “1 want to see im; I want
to take 'im back to the boat.”
For the space of thirty seconds, per-
haps, no one ventured a word. Then,
as the woman swayed, Doctor John
leaped forward and put her into a
chair. The bag dropped to the floor
beside her. Tears began to flow down
her cheeks and, with her sleeve, she
brushed them away.
“Where's my man, my Uriah?’ she
demanded again fiercely. “Give ’im
back to me, mister, and I'll— Where's
the pup that shot ’im?”
“Who shot him?” cried Doctor John.
Edith gave him a peculiar look.
“Reggie, Reggie Brown,” she whined.
“I saw ’im, and Tony, thinkin’ I did
it—"
A sharp cry fell from Dr. Paul Pen-
dlehaven.
“Tony vowed she did it,” he gasped.
*Oh, my poor little girl! She dida’t
even mention your being here.”
“Tony's like that.” assented Edith.
“She wouldn't peach on a dog.”
Doctor John came to her side with
one long stride.
“Are you ready to swear Reginald
Brown shot your Lusband?’ he de-
manded.
“Of course 1 am, mister,” nodded
Edith. “He was always runnin’ after
Tony, and she hated ’im. He was
right over there when, suddenlike, he
banged a bullet smack at my man.
That duffer, the dirty pup, ain’t fit to
clear Uriah’s boots. When Tony
pushed me out of this house she says,
well, she says, ‘Run, mummy, before
somebody gets you,” and I was kind a
dazed like and ran away.”
Just then Philip flung into the room.
room.
“I'm half crazy,” he exclaimed and
then stopped, seeing Edith Devon, but
he was so filled with misery that he
gave no further heed to the stranger
and went on hastily, “Jack, Paul,
there’s something behind that affair
of Reggie's!”
“There sure is,” said John Pendle-
haven. “Sit down, boy. We're just
getting at it. This is Mrs. Devon.”
“And my man,” she insisted, strug-
gling up. “Uriah always was a d—n
fool, mixin’ up with swells like Reggie
Brown, but I love 'im; and, mister,”
she wiped her face and, shudderingly, |
appealed to Paul Pendlehaven, “if you
give 'im to me, mister—"
“We'll see Tony first,” he interrupt-
ed. “Wait.”
While their cousins were with
Uriah’s wife below, Mrs. Curtis and
Katherine were talking over the events
of the night.
“If Tony’ll only stick to what she’s :
repeating, |
said,” Mrs. Curtis was
“nothing could be better. She'll prob-
ably go to jail, and Reginald will for- :
get her.” :
“Rege’s such a fool,” commented the
girl.
she loved him. She simply couldn’t
care for him when she has Philip, nor
after knowing he tried to kill Cousin
Paul. I'd like to know what's behind
it all.”
.Tony received the call to the
library listlessly. Nothing that any-
one could say now would make her
lot any easier. Nothing! Nothing!
Philip, her new father, kind Uncle
John, all had vanished in the wuters
of bitterness that had overwhelmed
her.
The room seemed full of people
when she crept timidly in. Uriah De-
von, with a white cloth tied around
his head, lounged in a large chair.
Mrs. Curtls and Katherine were seat-
A New Romance of
“I wonder if she really did say |
Dole Ay GRACE
WN MILLER
NTN WHITE
QOPIRIGHT 2 Co KK LBA)”
he Storm Country ]
ed, rigidly erect side by side. ore
girl's gaze passed over their glaring
eyes and settled on Philip MacCauley.
Was that a smile she saw lurking
around his lips? Of course not! He
couldn't smile when she was in sud |
trouble! She shivered as she mei
Reginald Brown's eager eyes, and,
thrusting back a sob, she went to Paul
Pendlehaven because he had held his
hand out to her. Then she saw her
mother, and a bewildered expression
spread over her face. Doctor Paul, |
his eyes soft and gleaming, his lips
twitching nervously, drew ler down
beside him.
“Mummy doesn’t know anything
about it,” gasped the girl, extending ;
her arms to Edith. “I won't hear any- |
one say—Oh, Uriah,” she turned to,
Devon, “you know. Oh, say I did it.” |
“Won't say any such thing,” mut- |
tered Uriah. |
“Of course he won't, Tony,” exclaim-
ed Docter John. “We know the truth |
now.” |
Tonnibel got to her feet, puliing her- |
self away from Paul Pendlehaven.
“Oh, you can’t arrest my poor little |
mother,” she cried. “Her whole life |
1
|
|
i
1
i
|
has been so miserable. I must help
her. You must, you, Philip—"
Tony Received the Call to the Library
Listlessly.
Philip got out of his chair, but Dec
tor John put him back into it again.
“Wait,” he whispered into the boy's
ear.
“I want to tell you, everyone,” weut
on Tony, fiercely, “that I'll swear 'til
I die my mother—"
Paul Pendlehaven took the speaker
by the shoulders and forced her face
up to his.
“This woman, here, your mother,”
und he waved his arm toward Mrs.
Devon, “says you didn’t have that gun
in your hand, and it’s loaded to the
brim now. She didn’t use it, either.”
Reggie's Jaw dropped. He made a
dash for the door, as Mrs. Curtis
screamed. Doctor John caught the
fleeing boy and wheeled him around
to face his horror-stricken mother.
“It's a lie! I didn’t,” he mumbled.
“Where'd I get a gun to shoot any-
one? This woman did it herself. 1
saw her.”
“Then you were here,” cried Philip.
Mrs. Curtis acted as if she were go-
ing to faint, but, as no one pald any
attention to her, she slumped back be-
side her daughter, who turned away
contemptuously.
“That settles one question,” com-
mented Doctor Paul, grimly. “You
shot Devon, Reggie.” and the boy sank |
into a chair beside his mother. “Now,” |
continued the doctor, “who robbed the
safe?” }
To know that her mother hadn’t
done the shooting relieved but one of
Tonnibel’s worries. Uriah wasn’t hurt |
much anyway, but the doctor's ques- | 1
! tion brought vividly to her mind an- |
|
other danger, not a whit less serious. !
fidith was certainly involved in looting
the safe! |
“I told you once,” Tony began
weakly. ;
“Child,” interposed Doctor Paul, |
‘you’ll shield no one else. I shudder
lo think what might have happened if
rour mother hadn’t come here for her
fusband.”
His tones were
though much moved.
His eye caught sight of the black
bag at the same time his brother's did.
Doctor John opened it and, amid an
appalling silence, took box after box
out of it.
“Plain stealing,” he growled, and
then he stared at Mrs. Devon in open-
mouthed amazement. “What'd you
bring 'em back for?” he questioned.
Edith paid no attention to Doctor
John’s query but addressed her hus-
band.
“Uriah, now you went and done it
again!” She turned to Doctor Paul.
“You got everythin’ back, give me my
man, He didn't know what he was
doin’, sir.”
low and stern,
+ said you would.”
| bled.
| hadn't butted in and shot me, I'd tak-
| en Tony like I bargained to.”
| gorically answered, discovered
: whole conspiracy between Mrs. Curtls, |
. Curtises in a sweep of his hand.
. Paul, didn’t you?”
side and towered over him with up- |
. ralsed fist. “Own up, d—n you. Didn’t |
, you?
“Then he'll be taught a lesson, the ; questioned Mrs. Devon.
joined the doctor.
daughter came to us, she’s been in
dread of your husband, her fathar
Once he was sent away, and she had
peace. This time he won't come back
in a hurry.”
Doctor John reached into the drawer
of the table near him and produced
the roll of bills that Philip had found
on Devon the night before.
“How about this, you?” he inquired
of Devon. “Where'd this come from
before it was in your pocket? While
we're at it, we might as well clear up
everything.”
The center of interest, Uriah Devon
shifted uneasily in his chair. He had
discovered the loss of the money but
had not dared to make any inquiry
about it, Hastily he ran over the sit-
uation, and it appeared to him as hope- |
less as possible, but five thousand dol-
lars was a good thing for a man to
have, whatever his position.
tion with him: would come out, and
that might make things easier for him. ;
If she didn't, he'd have the cash any-
how.
“That's mine, mister,” he grunted,
“and I didn’t steal it, neither. Give it
to me.”
The same considerations had been
chasing through Mrs. Curtis’ mind,
and, in the general cataclysm that she ,
“Ever since your |
same as Reginald will, madam,” re- |
Tony had dropped to the floor. Now
|
If Mrs. |
Curtis claimed the money, her connec-
at the same time.
i that little Caroline had been found
she could no longer be a Pendlehaven
daughter. Edith went to her and knelt
beside her.
“Here she is, sir,” she said in husky
tones, lifting a tearful face to the
men, “and you couldn't have a finer
girl in the world. I ain’t goin’ to say
for you to forgive me, sir, but you've
bad ’er over two years! Now, gimme
Uriah, and we'll go.”
Tony threw her arms around Edith’s
neck. What a change two minutes
and a few words had made! She
seemed to have taken on a new dig-
nity as, with shining eyes, she said to
Paul Pendlehaven:
“Father, darling, whatever it was
thet separated us, I want, oh, how 1
| want to do something for the only
|
i
: mother I've ever known.”
Of course, Doctor Paul consented;
he even did more. He got a promise
from the confused Uriah that he'd
turn his back on the old days and
old ways, and begin again with such
. ald ag the Pendlehavens would give
kim.
i While Doctor Paul was setiling the
: fate of the Devons, John Pendlehaven
had been sizing up the Curtis family.
. They were grouped togeilier, clinzing
"to each other.
saw before her, she concluded the! “Reggie,” he ejaculated, “i reckeoa
money might be very necessary for you did a good job when you stopped
her and her children. | Devon with a bullet last night. As
“Don’t let him have it, John,” she for you, Sarah, you and your children
screamed. “It’s mine. Give it to me.” | arent safe to have in the house,
Doctor John arose and stood be- Here!” He stretched forth his hand
tween Uriah and Mrs. Curtis, holding
Amidst |
|
the roll of bills in his hand.
i the closest attention of the rest of the
group, he looked from one to the other,
: while the claimants indulged in a dis-
. pute.
“You give it to me, didn’t you,
ma'am?” asked Uriah, roughly.
“Didn't you?”
“Yes, I suppose I did,” she acknowl-
edged, “but you haven't done what you
“'Twasn't my fault,” Uriah grum-
“If that fool of a son of yours
Then Doctor Paul interposed, ard
. a few questions, sternly put and cate-
the |
her children, and Uriah Devon.
John Pendlehaven, whose anger had!
been steadily rising, suddenly stepped ,
forward and brushed his brother aside. |
“I'll take charge of this now, I'aul,”
he stated. “You're too d—d easy.
Here's where you treacherous snakes
go to jall,” he included Uriah and the
“Ev-
ery one of you!” He turned savagely |
upon Reginald. “You little pup,” he;
charged swiftly, “you tried to poison
He crossed to his
Reginald cowered, slipped out of his
; chair and attempted to shield himself
in Mrs, Curtis’ arms, who leaned pro- |
| tectingly over him,
and offered the five thousand dollars
to her “Here’s your money. Now
go, and take Reggie and Katherine
with you.”
Mrs. Curtis was so utterly overcome
that she could do nothing but sob, but
Katherine took the bills from the doc-
tor's hand and turned to her brother.
“Come on, Rege,” she muttered.
“Help me get her out of this. We
better go.” She pinched her mother’s
arm spitefully. “Get up, nother.
Quit that crying, and come on.”
The others watched them leave the
room, and then Mrs. Devon spoke up:
“We're next, Riah! And we're ever-
lastingly grateful to you, Doctor Paul,
and you, Doctor John, for lettin’ us
go. Ain't we, Riah?”
Devon straightened up from
chair and grinned sheepishly.
“That we be,” he agreed, “and I'll
try to show it.”
® 5 * * ” * %
That evening when Tonnibel and
Philip were alone together, the young
man said chokingly, “You don’t for a
moment imagine I ever believed you
did that thing, darling? I went away
because I thought you didn’t love me
any more, that you never had loved
me. You don't think-—any other way?”
| “No, dear,” she answered gently.
“No, ¢f course not!”
The buy pressed her to him, and,
as they whispered so low, no one could
. hear snything, there isn’t another word
to record, except that Tonnibel Pen-
dlehaven had everything the world
could give one little girl.
{THE END.]
nis
“T—I was drunk,” he excused hime
self, “and 1 thought,” he whimpered
to his mother, *1 thought yon wanted
me to.”
Then Edith projected
the excitement again. She glanced at
Uriah, her eyes melting with tender-
ness, arose and stood locking at the
Pendlehaven brothers.
“Mr. Paul,” she said in a low voice,
“don’t you remember me?”
Paul looked her over with no sign
of recognition, and his brother turned
away from Reginald to observe this
uew development.
“No,” said Paul, and he shook nis
head.
“Never mind!
was the reply. “but I'll make a dicker
with you.
keeps, and I'll give you your girl,
Caroline. I'm Edith Mindil!"
You could have heard a pin drop, so
deep was the silence. All were inok-
ing at the haggard woman. facing Paul
Pendlehaven, who was rising uns:cad- :
ily.
“Give me my man,” she repeated.
“Don’t send 'im to jail, and I'll give
you your girl.”
Doctor Paul had become so white
herself into
That don’t matter!”
You give me my man for’
GRAIN HELD BY GROWERS.
There is the largest stock of grain
in farmers’ hands ever known in the
State, according to the report issued
by G: L. Morgan, agricultural statis-
tician, U. S. bureau of crop estimates.
The stock of corn on farms March
. 1, is estimated at 43 per cent. of last
year’s production, or 28,832,000 bush-
els, as compared with 28,877,000 bush-
els last year, and 22,002,000 bushels,
. the averagz stock on farms March 1
for the past 10 years. The percentage '
of corn shipped or to be shipped out
of county where grown is estimated at !
12 per cent. of last year’s production,
lor 8,046,000 bushels, as compared
with 5,575,000 bushels last year, and
5,192,000 bushels, the average for the
. past 10 years. It is estimated that 85
‘per cent. of last year’s crop was of !
merchantable quality as compared
with 87 per cent. in 1919 and 81 per
cent., the average for the past 10
i years.
The stock of wheat in farmers’
hands March 1 is estimated at 35 per
i cent. of last year’s production, or 8,-
715,000 bushels, as compared with
. 6,715,000 bushels last year, and 6,-
388,000 bushels, the average stock on
farms March 1 for the past 10 years.
‘The amount shipped out of the county
{ where grown is estimated at 37 per
cent. of last year’s crop, or 9,213,000
: bushels, as compared with 11,179,000
: bushels shipped a year ago, and 8,780,-
: 000 bushels, the average amount ship-
! ped for the past 10 years.
t The stock of oats on farms is es-
timated at 46 per cent. of last year’s
. production, or 21,080,000 bushels as
. compared with 14,744,000 bushels last
i year, and 15,348,000 bushels, the aver-
j age stock on farms for the past 10
i years on March 1. The amount ship-
| ped out of the county is estimated at
. 8 per cent. or 3,666,000 bushels as
compared with 2,212,000 bushels last
| year, and 2,755,000 bushels, the aver-
i age amount shipped for the past 10
years.
| The stock of barley on farms is es-
{ timated at 115,000 bushels or 24 per
cent. of last year’s crop as compared
WN "with 83,000 bushels a year ago, and
“You Little Pup, You Tried to Poison
Paul, Didn't You?”
that his brother went to him and flung
an arm across his shoulders.
“Are you lying?’ he thundered at
Edith, “If—if—— Sit down, Paul.
Let me—"
“Where's my baby?” quavered Paul
Pendlehaven.
“Does my Uriah go free, scot-free?”
60,000 bushels the average stock on
| farms for the past 10 years on March
1. The percentage shipped out of the
. county where grown last season is es-
timated at 7 per cent. of the crop, or
34,000 bushels, the average amount
shipped out for the past 10 years.
The following are the average val-
ues of several kinds of farm land
throughout the State: Poor plow
lands, $39 per acre; good plow lands,
$86 per acre; all plow lands, $62 per
acre. The average value of all farm
lands with imprcvements is estimated
at $89 per acre and without improve-
ments, $656 per acre. These figures
show a very slight decrease from a
year ago; less than one-half of one
i per cent,
“Yes, yes,” consented both brothers
THOUGHTLESS USE OF FIRE IN
WOODS COSTS MILLIONS.
More than $25,000,000
standing timber in the United States
is destroyed by forest fires each year,
according to estimates made by the
Fosert Service of the United States
Department of Agriculture. This
represents a serious loss to the coun-
try, particularly at present when the
nation is using up its resources of
timber four times as fast as it is
grown, and as a consequence is facing
a depletion of its forests.
Not every one in the country will be
able to visit the display of the Forest
Service, which, as a part of the depart-
ment’s exhibit, is to be on show at
various fairs throughout the country. !
The lessons of the exhibit, however, |
should appeal strongly to everyome,
as they point out graphically the more
ccmmon ways by which destructive
fires are started through carelessness.
They are part of the work of the serv-
ice in its endeavor to stir up nation-
wide sentiment for a cautious uce of
fire in forests and woodlands.
Tobacco smoking in the forests has
been found to be a very serious fire
hazard.
annually responsible for a large num-
ber of conflagrations in timbered
areas, causing immensz losses. So
important has this source of forest
fires been considered by those inter-
ested in guarding the timber supply |
of the country, that Secretary of Ag-
riculture Meredith recently appealed
to the tobacco manufacturers to co-
operate in enlisting smokers
in all forests, both national and pri-
vate. It is his idea to have the man-
ufacturers print a fire caution on the
outside of each tobacco, cigar, and
cigarette container. Hundreds of
thousands of people would read these
cautions and their effect would be very
valuable, he believes. Similar action
has been taken by a Canadian tobac-
co company as a step toward safe-
guarding the timber resources of the
Dominion. Some lumber companies in
the United States do not allow their
employees to smoke in the woods, and
the extension of this rule is being
strongly urged.
The Forest Service is endeavoring
to impress upon the public the danger
that results from dropping a lighted
match, a pipe coal, or a lighted cigar-
ette or cigar stump in or near a wood.
Hunters, fishermen, and woods work-
ers of all kinds smoke in the forests,
and automobilists carelessly toss bits
of fire from their cars and speed
thoughtlessly onward, unmindful of
the possible source of conflagration
they have left behind them. A single
glowing cigarette end may cost the
government thousands of dollars for
fire figthing, to say nothing of the
. value of the timber destroyed, the des-
olation of scenic beauty, and the harm
done to watersheds. In protecting the
national forests of more than 150,000,-
000 acres, the Department of Agricul-
ture has to fight thousands of forest
fires every summer due to careless-
ness.
There are several other important
sources of forest fire which can be laid
to the careless use of fire by individ-
uals. Campers many times leave their
camp fires lighted and unprotected
while they fish or hunt. Camp sites
frequently are abandoned and the fire
not extinguished. Here is a very real
danger for there are many ways in
which the fire can spread to the sur-
rounding underbrush and make its
way to the trees. A wind may spread
the sparks to the timber near by.
Farmers many times are responsi-
ble for starting destructive forest fires.
Great care should be exercised in
brush burning during dry seasons.
The fire is apt to get beyond control
and the blaze spread to adjoining
woods. It has been found, too, that
frequently sparks from locomotives
fall in or near woods, set fire to the
underbrush, and before long the trees
are ablaze.
Records of forest fires in the United
States show that there are many other
: features about them to be dreaded,
even aside from the actual money loss
of the timber burned. Not infrequent-
' ly they are attended by a large loss of
life. Particularly in the North and
i Northwest, when the fire gets beyond
| contral, large towns that happen to be
{ in the path of the blaze may suffer se-
i verely and many persons are some-
* times killed.
Governors of western States are do-
i ing much to awaken individuals to a
{ sense of personal responsibility in
i guarding against careless use of fire
{in forests. “Forest protection week”
: set aside for this purpose has started
. @ movement that promises to become
! nation-wide.
RABBIT SKINS VALUABLE.
A profit from rabbit keeping some-
times overlooked is that to be derived
from the sale of the skins. At the
present time the fur is at its best, and
it is desirable that the color should be
!as even as possible. The New Zealand
i Red and the Flemish Giants both have
skins desirable from a commercial
standpoint and they can either be sold,
or, where a home industry is possible,
they could be made up at home into a
number of useful and attractive ar-
ticles.
For using the skins commercially,
they must be removed whole—that is
to say, there must be no incision made
as in the ordinary way for dressing
the rabbit and the skin must then be
at once placed upon a stretcher. It
does not pay to attempt to tan the
skins at home. Tanning can be done
for 35 cents apiece at the tannery
an dthe pelt is then ready for use.
Driving gauntlets, in these days of
universal motoring, should find a
ready sale and with the backs made of
fur, they have a fine appearance as
well as affording necessary warmth.
Slippers and moccasins can be lined
and edged with the fur and it could
be used with good effect for trimming
the ever-popular sweater.
ere fl eee.
“The lightning bug is brilliant,
But he hasn't any mind.
He goes through life a blundering,
With his headlight on behind.
But the measuring worm is different.
When he starts after pelf,
He stretches to the limit,
And then he humps himself.”
——Subsecribe for the “Watchman.”
worth of
i tal flue filled with hot air.
emerges at the other end of the flue
Smokers, statistics show, are |
i of postage stamp mucilage.
| could see the packages of stamps as
i they come to the postoffice ready to be
- sold one would find them labeled, ac-
‘ cording to season, “Summer Gum” or
in a!
movement against careless use of fire |
ah
SWEET POTATO GUM ON U. S.
STAMPS.
Every time a person puts a United
States postage stamp to his lips he
tastes the sweet-potato gum with
which the stamps are backed. The
gum is made from that succulent veg-
etable because Uncle Sam’s lieuten-
ant’s consider it the most harmless
preparation of the sort.
All of the gum used on American
postage stamps is mixed by the gov-
ernment at the Bureau of Eengraving
and Printing, where the stamps are
made. It is spread on the sheets after
the stamps have been printed.
The gum in a liquid form is forced
up through pipes from the basement
where it is made. These pipes lead to
a series of machines consisting of rol-
lers between which the sheets of
stamps are fed one at a time.
_ A continuous fine stream of the
liquid gum falls upon one of these
rollers. The sheet with its wet coat-
ing of sweet-potato mucilage passes
from the rollers into a long horizon-
When it
the gum is dry.
The government makes two kinds
If one
“Winter Gum.” The former is much
the harder of the two and was devised
i some years ago to keep the stamps
| from getting too
sticky in warm,
moist weather.
While Uncle Sam tries to make the
lot of the stamp-licker as innocuous as
possible, he does not advise making a
meal off his sweet-potato gum. The
whole process of gum making and ap-
plying is made as clean as possible,
but there is yet another item to be
considered.
A sheet of postage stamps is hand-
led a good many times before it even
leaves the bureau where it is made. If
you must lick any of your stamps pick
out those from the middle of the sheet.
The corner ones have gone through
the fingers of half a dozen or more
counters, not to mention the perfor-
ators and the separators and the rest.
—Lutheran.
BEST POTATO AND CORN VARI-
ETIES FOR PENNSYLVANIA.
As the spring planting season ap-
proaches, the progressive farmer is
confronted wi‘h a possible change in
the variety of some of his staple field
crops, and will ordinarily give consid-
erable thought to the subject. Recent
field demonstrations conducted by
farmers in all parts of the State with
the co-operation of farm agents and
agricultural extension men from The
Pennsylvania State College give some
interesting data on potato and corn
varieties suited to Pennsylvania con-
ditions.
It is a well established fact that the
potatoes of the Rural group are the
best yielders for late varieties. Actu-
al demonstrations have shown without
a question of doubt that the Russets of
the Rural group lead all the others.
They are being grown more widely in
Pennsylvania than any other variety.
Three year’s results with farm trials
which included a dozen varieties, give
Russets a competitive yielding score
of 98.5 per cent., Sir Walter Raleigh
ranking second with a percentage of
83. Rural New Yorker No. 2 and
Heath’s Late Beauty follow closely
after, with scores of 82 and 81 re-
spectively. Tke next best group is
the Green Mountain, the best variety
making a score of 70. The early va-
rieties are the lowest yielders, Early
Ohio and Irish Cobbler both having a
score of 51. These scores are taken
from actual yields under widespread
Pennsylvania conditions.
In the matter of corn varieties,
specialists are in a position to recom-
mend Lancaster Sure Crop for silage
in the western part of the State, and
it is one of the highest grain yielders
in the eastern part, especially on soils
that are medium in fertility. Cloud’s
Yellow Dent and Long’s Champion are
good grain yielders in the east, while
Sweepstakes is the best for silage in
the northern counties.
ACID SOIL AND TREATED SEED
LESSEN POTATO SCAB.
Scab diseases of potatoes are waste-
ful. They not only render the tubers
unsightly and unmarketable but also
cause a loss of from 10 to 50 per cent.
of the tubers at cooking time. This
scabbiness is caused by a germ which
lives in the soil and attacks the tubers
whenever the soil shows an alkaline
reaction. The same germ also lives in
the scab spots on the tubers.
To control the disease two factors
must be considered—the tubers must
be disinfected, and the reaction of the
soil must be changed from alkaline to
slightly acid or neutral. The tubers
may be disinfected before cutting by
soaking them for one and one-half
hours in formaldehyde solution which
is easily prepared by adding one pint
of the commercial product to 30 gal-
lons of water. The temperature of the
solution should be about 60 degrees
for effective disinfection. After
treating, the tubers should be spread
out and dried before cutting.
The reaction of the soil may be
changed from alkaline to about the
desired acid reaction by plowing un-
der a heavy crop of clover or alfalfa
in the fall or a good stand of rye ear-
ly in the spring. These crops bring
about the desired change in the soil
during their decaying process. If it
is possitively known that the soil up-
on which potatoes are to be planted is
acid, the plowing under of a green
crop is not necessary, for the scab or-
ganism does not thrive under acid
conditions. The so-called commercial
acid fertilizers do not produce the de-
sired changes in soil reactions.
If farmers will practice these meth-
ods common scab will not appreciably
affect their crop, says Dr. C. R. Orton,
Pennsylvania State College plant pa-
thologist.
Tainted Money.
Soap-box Orator—An’ I tell you
that all them millionaires’ money is
tainted—all of it.
Unconvinced person—How do you
mean, “tainted ?”
Soap-box Orator—Well ’taint yours,
an’ ’taint mine, is it?