Bull-Dog
Drummond
The Adventures of a
Demobilized Officer Who
Found Peace Dull
m—
by CYRIL McNEILE
“SAPPER”
ILLUSTRATIONS BY
IRWIN MYERS
Copyright by Ges. H. Doran Co.
(Conclusion.)
“The last straw,” remarked Ted Jer-
ningham. “A more impossible man as
a bridegroom 1ivould be hard to think
of. Bub in the meantime I pinched
half a dozen of the old man’s Perrier
Jouet 1911 and put ’em in the car.
What say you?”
“Say!” snorted Hugh. “Idiot boy!
Does one speak on such occasions?”
And it was so. . . .
THREE.
“What's troubling me,” remarked
Hugh later, “is what to do with Carl
and that sweet girl Irma.”
The hour for the meeting was draw-
ing near, and though no one had any
idea as to what sort of a meeting it
was going to be, it was obvious that
Peterson would be one of the happy
throng.
“I should say the police might now
be allowed a look in,” murmured Dar-
rell mildly. “You can’t have the man
lying about the place after you're mar-
ried.”
“I suppose not,” answered Drum-
mond, regretfully. “And yet it's a
dreadful thing to finish a little show
like this with the police—if you'll for-
give my saying so, Mr. Green.”
“Sure thing,” drawled the American.
«But we have our uses, Captain, and
T'm inclined to agree with your friend's
suggestion. Hand him over along with
bis book, and they'll sweep up the
mess.”
«It would be an outrage to let the
scoundrel go,” said the millionaire
fiercely. “The man Lakington you say
is dead; there’s enough evidence to
hang this brute as well. What about
my secretary in Belfast?”
But Drummand shook his head.
«] have my doubts, Mr. Potts, if
you'd be able to bring that home to
him. Still, I can quite understand your
feeling rattled with the bird.” He
rose and stretched himself; then he
glanced at his watch. “It’s time you
all retired, boys; the party ought to be
starting soon. Drift in again with the
lads, the instant I ring the bell.”
Left alone Hugh made certain once
again that he knew the right combina-
tion of studs on the wall to open the
big door which concealed the stolen
store of treasure—and other things as
well ; then, lighting a cigarette, he sat
down and waited.
The end of the chase was in sight
and he had determined it should be a
fitting end, worthy of the chase itself—
CT
theatrical, perhaps, but at the same
time impressive. Something for the
Ditchlings of the party to ponder on in
the silent watches of the night. . . .
Then the police—it would have to be
the police, he admitted sorrowfully—
and after that, Phyllis.
And he was just on the point of ring-
ing up his flat to tell her that he loved
her, when the door opened and a man
§r-—, pp -
Bn
Pe a
-
lems
Then, Lighting a Cigarette, He Eat
Down and Waited.
came in. Hugh recognized him at once
as Vallance Nestor, an author of great
brilliance—in his own eyes—who had
lately devoted himself to the advance-
ment of revolutionary labor.
“Good afternoon,” murmured Drum-
mond, affably. “Mr, Peterson will be a
little late. I am his private secretary.”
The other nodded and sat down lan-
guldly.
“What did you think of my last little
effort in the Midlands?’ he asked,
drawing off his gloves.
“Quite wonderful,” said Hugh. “A
marvelous help to the great cause.”
Vallance Nestor yawned slightly and
closed his eyes, only to open them
again as Hugh turned the pages of the
ledger on the table.
“what's that?’ he demanded.
«his is the book,” replied Druia-
mond carelessly, “where Mr. Peterson
records his opinions of the immense
value of all his fellow-workers. Most
interesting reading.”
“Am I in it?” Vallance Nestor arose
with alacrity.
“Why, of course,” answered Drum-
mond. “Are you not one of the lead-
ers? Here you are.” He pointed with
his finger, and then drew back in dis-
may. “Dear, dear! There must be
some mistake.”
But Vallance Nestor, with a frozen
and glassy eye, was staring fascinated
at the following choice description of
himself :
“Nestor, Vallance. Auther—so-called.
Hot-air factory, but useful up to a
point. Inordinately cenceited and &
monumental ass. Not fit to be trusted
far.”
“What,” he spluttered at length, “is
the meaning of this abominable In-
sult?”
But Hugh, his shoulders shaking
slightly, was welcoming the next ar-
rival—a rugged, beetle-browed mati,
whose face seemed vaguely familiar,
but whose name he was unable to
place.
“Crofter,” shouted the infuriated au-
thor, “look at this as a description of
me!”
And Hugh watched the man, whom
he now knew to be one of the extrem-
ist members of parliament, walk over
and glance at the book. He saw him
conceal a smile, and then Valance Nes- |
tor carried the good work on.
“we'll see what he says about you-—-
impertinent blackguard.”
der at the dossier.
He just had time to read: “Crofter,
John. A consummate blackguard.
Playing entirely for his own hand.
Needs careful watching,” when the
subject of the remarks, his face con-
vulsed with fury, spun round and fac-
ed him.
“Who wrote that?” he snarled.
“Must have been Mr. Peterson,” an-
swered Hugh placidly. “A wonderful
judge of character, too,” he murmured,
turning away to meet Mr. Ditchling,
who arrived somewhat opportunely, in
company with a thin, pale man—little
more than a youth—whose identity
completely defeated Drummond.
7“My God!” Crofter was livid with
ge. “Me and Peterson will have
words this afternoon. Look at this,
Ditchling.”
turned over some pages.
what this insolent devil has to say
about you.”
“Drinks!” Ditchling thumped the
tatlle with a heavy fist. “What the h—I1
does he mean?
tary—what’s the meaning of this ?”
“They represent Mr. Peterson’s con-
sidered opinions of you all,” said Hugh !
genially. “Perhaps that other gentle-
man...
stepped forward with a surprised look.
He seemed to be not quite clear what
had upset the others, but already Nes-
tor had turned up his name.
“Terrance, Victor. A wonderfn!
speaker. Appears really to beileve
that what he suys will benefit the
workingman. Consequently very valy-
able; but indubitably mad.”
“Does he mean to insult us deliber-
ately?’ demanded Crofter, his volce
still shaking with passion.
“But I don’t understand,” said Victor
Terrance, dazedly. “Does Mr. Peter-
son not believe in our teachings, too?”
He turned slowly and looked at Hugh,
who shrugged his shoulders. f
“He should be here at any moment,”
he answered, and as he spoke the door
opened and Carl Peterson caine in.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” he be-
zan, and then he saw Hugh. With a
look of speechless amazement he
stared at the soldier, and for the first
time since Hugh had known him his
face blanched. Then his eyes fell on
the open ledger, and with a dreadful
curse he sprang forward. A glance at
the faces of the men who stood watch-
ing him told him what he wanted to
know, and with another oath bis hand
went to his pocket.
“pake your hand out, Carl Peter-
son.” Drummond's voice rang through
“thie room, and the arch-criminal, 100k-
ing sullenly up, found himself staring
into the muzzle of a revolver. “Now,
sit down at the table—all of you. The
meeting is about to commence.”
“Look here,” blustered Crofter, “I'll
have the law on you. ...”
“By all manner of means, Mr. John
Crofter, consummate blackguard,” an-
gwered Hugh, calmly. “But that comes
afterward. Just now—sit down.”
“rm d—d if I will,” roared the oth-
er, springing at the soldier. And Peter-
son, sitting sullenly at the table try-
ing to readjust his thoughts to the
sudden blinding certainty that through
some extraordinary accident every-
thing had miscarried, never stirred as
a half-stunned member of parliament
crashed to the floor beside him.
“Sit down, I said,” remarked Drom-
mond, affably. “But if you prefer ico
lie down, it's all the game to me. Are
there any more to come, Peterson?”
“No, d—n you. Get it over!”
“Right. Throw your gun on the
floor.” Drummond picked up the wea-
pon and put it in hig pocket; then he
rang the bell. “I had hoped,” he mur-
mured, “for a larger gathering, but
one cannot have everything.”
Save to Peterson, who understood,
it only dimty, what had happened, the
thing had come as such a complete
EE
|
1
|
surprise that even the sudden entrance
of twenty masked men, who ranged
themselves in single rank behind their
chairs, failed to stir the meeting. It
merely seemed in keeping with what
had gone before.
“1 shall not detain you long, gentle
men,” began Hugh, suavely. “Your gen-
eral appearance and the warmth of the
weather have combined to produce in
me a desire for sleep. But before I
hand you over to the care of the ;
sportsmen who stand so patiently be- |
hind you, there are one or two remarks
I wish to make. Let me say at once
that on the subject of Capital and La-
bor I am suptemely ignorant. You
will therefore be spared any disserta-
tion on the subject. But from an ex-
haustive study of the ledger which now
lies upon the table, and a fairly intl-
mate knowledge of its author's move-
ments, I and my friends have been put
to the inconvenience of treading on
you. :
“There are many things, we know,
which are wrong in this jolly old coun-
try of ours; but given time and the
right methods I am sufficiently op-
| timistic to believe that they could be
| put right. That, however, would not
suit your book. You dislike the right
method, because it leaves all of you
much where you were before. Every
single one of you—with the sole pos-
sible exception of you, Mr. Terrance,
and you're mad—is playing with revo-
lution for his own ends: to make mon-
ey out of it—to gain power. .
“Let us start with Peterson—your
leader. How much did you say-he de-
manded, Mr. Potts, as the price of rev-
olution?”
With a strangled cry Peterson
sprang up as the American millionaire,
removing his mask, stepped forward.
“Pwo hundred and fifty thousand
pounds, you swine, was what you asked
me.” The millionaire stood confront-
Hugh glanced over Crofter'’s shoul- ' ing his tormentor, who dropped back
in his chair with a groan. “And when
I refused, you tortured me. Look at
| my thumb.”
With a cry of horror the others sit-
ting at the table looked at the mangled
fiesh, and then at the man who had
done it. This, even to their mind, was
going too far.
“Then there was the same sum,”
continued Drummond, “to come from
Hocking, the American cotton man—
half German by birth; Steinemann,
the German coal man; Von Gratz, the
German steel man. Is that not so,
Peterson?’ It was an arrow at a
venture, but it hit the mark, and Pe-
terson nodded.
“So one million pounds was the
stake this benefactor of hummanity
was playing for,” sneered Drummond.
“One miilion pounds, as the mere
price of a nation’s life-blood.
i h 1 ‘
On second thoughts he | But at any rate he had the merit of
“We'll sez coum, and the other beauties so ably
playing big, whereas the rest of you
catalogued in that book, messed shout
, at his beck and call for packets of
Say, you, Mr. Secre-
bull's eyes.
fng him, but the whole lot of you are
' so d—d crooked that you probably
, voice took on a deep,
: | ring, and against their will the four
He turned to the pale youth, who |
thought of nothing but your own filthy
skins.
“Listen to me.” Hugh Drummond's
commanding
men looked at the broad, powerful
soldier, whose sincerity shone clear
tn his face. “Not by revelutiors and
direct action will you make this island
of curs right—though I am fully
aware that that is tte last thing you
would wish to see happen. But with
your brains, and for your own un-
scrupulous ends, you gull the work-
fngman into believing it. And he, be
cause you can talk with your tongnes
in your cheeks, is led away. He be-
lieves you will give him Utopia ;
whereas, in reality, you are leading
him to h—l. And you know it. Evo-
lution is our only chance—not revo-
lution: but you, and others like
you, stand to gain mere by the
latter. . 2
His hand dropped to his side, and
he grinned.
“Quite a break for me,” he re-
marked. “I'm getting hoarse. I'm
now going to hand you four over io
the boys. There's an admirable, but
somewhat muddy pond outside, and
I'm sure you'd like to look for newts.
If any of you want to summon me for
assault and battery, my name {8
Drummond—Captain Diummond of
Half Moon street. But I warn you
that that book will be handed into
Scotland Yard tonizht. Out with ‘em,
boys, and give ‘em Bendel feo
“And now, Carl Peterson,” he re-
marked, as the door closed behind the
last of the struggling prophets of a
new world, “it is time that you and I
settled our little account, isn’t it?”
The master-criminal rose and stood
facing him. Apparently he had com-
pletely recovered himself; the hand
with which he lit his cigar was as
steady as a rock.
“] congratulate you, Captain Drum-
mond,” he remarked suavely. “I con-
féss I have no idea how you managed
to escape from the somewhat cramped
position I left you in last night, or
how you have managed to instali your
own men in this house. But I have
even less idea how you discovered
about Hocking and the other two.”
Hugh laughed shortly.
‘“Another time, when you disguise
yourself as the Comte de Guy, remem-
ber one thing, Carl. Fer effective con-
cealment it is necessary to change
other things besides your face and
figure. You must change your man-
perisms and unconscious little tricks.
No—I won't tell you what it is that
gave you away. You can ponder over
it in prison.”
“So you mean to hand me over to
the police, @o you?” -sald Peterson
slowly.
“I see no other course open {o me,”
replied Drummond.
Perhaps you labored up-.
der the delusion that you were fook~
The sudden opening of the door
made both men look round. Then
Drummond bowed, to conceal a smile.
“Just in time, Miss Irma.”
The girl swept past him and con-
. fronted Petersdn.
«What has happened?’ she panted.
, “The garden is full of people whom
, I've never seen. And there were two
men running down the drive covered
i with weeds and dripping with wa-
ter.”
Peterson smiled grimly.
i “A slight setback has occurred, my
. dear. I have made a big mistake—a
| mistake which has proved fatal. I
“have underestimated the ability of
_ Cuptain Drummond ; and as long as I
live I shall always regret that I did
not kill him the night he went explor-
ing in this house.”
Fearfully the girl faced Drum-
mond ; then she turned again to Peter-
SOL.
“Where's Henry?’ she demanded.
“That again’ is a point on which I
am profoundly ignorant,” answered
Peterson. “Perhaps Captain Drum-
mond can enlighten us on that also?”
“Yes,” remarked Drummond, “I can.
Henry has had an acCident. After I
drove him back from the duchess’ last
night’—the girl gave a cry, and Pe-
terson steadied her with his arm—
“we had words—dreadful words. And
for a long time, Carl, I thought it
would be better if you and I'had simi-
tar words. In fact, I'm not sure even
Through Dry Lips.
gow that it wouldn't be sifer in the
Jong Tul. iu: «iri
«But where is he?” said the gir.
! through dry lips. -
“Where you ought to be, Carl,” an-
swered Hugh grimly. “Where, soone:
or Rter, vou will be.”
of the wall, ard the door of the hig
gafe swung open slowly. With «
scream of terror the girl sank had
fafuting on the floor, and even Peier
| gom's cigar droppéd on the floor Tro
ceiling by two ropes attuclied to bls
wns, was the dead body of Henry
pukinugton, And even as they watched
15, it sagged lower, and one of the
feet hit sullenly against a beautiful
oid gold vase. . . .
“ily God!” muttered Peterson *“Did
you murder him?”
“Oh, no!” answered Drumioud
“ile inadvertently fell in the bath he
got ready for me, and then when he
sun up the stairs in considerable pain,
that Interesting mechanical device
broke his neck.”
“Shut the door,” screamed the girl;
“] can’t stand it.”
She covered her face with her
hands, shuddering, while the door
slowly swung to again.
“Yes,” remarked Drummond thought-
fully, “it should be an (interesting
trial. I shall have such a lot to tell
them about the little entertainments
here, and all your endearing ways.”
With the big ledger under his arm
he crossed the room and called to
some men who were standing outs’de
in the hall; and as the detectives,
thoughtfully supplied by Mr. Green,
entered the central room, he gianced
for the last time at Carl Peterson and
his daughter. Never had the cigar
glowed more evenly between the mas-
ter-criminal’s lips; never had the girl
Irma selected a cigarette from her
gold and tortoise-shell case with more
supreme indifference.
“Good-by, my ugly one!” she cried,
with a charming smile, as two of the
men stepped up to her.
“Good-by,” Hugh bowed, and a tinge
of regret showed for a moment in his
eyes.
“Not good-by, Irma.”
yemoved his cigar, and stared at
Drummond steadily. “Only au revoir,
my friend; only au revoir."
Carl Peterson
EPILOGUE.
¥[ simply can’t believe it, Hugh.”
in the lengthening shadéws Phyllis
moved a little nearer to her husband,
who, quite regardless of the publicity
of their position, slipped an arm
eround her waist.
*Can’t believe what, darling?’ he
demanded lazily.
“Why, tliat all that awful night
mare is over. Lakington dead, and
the other two in prison, and us mar
ried.”
ES I I AS
“But Where ls He?” Said the Giri |
He pressed the studs in the niche |
| his nervous tips. For, hung Yrom the
.|is_recogniz
“They're not actually in jug yet, old,
AER
thing,” said Hugh. “And someliow
. . .” he broke off and stared thought-
fully at a man sauntering past them.
To all appearances he was a casual
visitor taking his evening walk along
the front of the well-known seaside
resort so largely addicted to homey-
moon couples. And yet -te XWRS
he? Hugh laughed softly; he'd got
suspicion on the brain.
“Don’t you think they'll be sent tc
prison?” cried the girl.
“They may be sent right enough.
but whether they arrive or not is a
d:fferent matter. I don’t somehow see
Carl picking ocakum. It's not his
form.”
For a while they were silent, occu-
pied with matters quite foreign to
such trifies as Peterson and his daugh-
ter.
“Are you glad I answered your ad-
vertisement?’ inquired Phyllis at
length.
“The question is too frivolous to
deserve an answer,” remarked her hus-
band severely. :
“But you aren't sorry it's over?”
she demanded.
“It isn’t over. kid; it's just begun.”
He smiled at her tenderly. “Your life
and mine isn’t it just wonder-
fui?”
And once again the man sauntered
past them. But this time he dropped
a piece of paper on the path, just at
Hugh's feet, and the soldier, with =
quick movement which he hardly
stopped to analyze, covered it with his
shoe. The girl hadn't seen the action;
but then, as girls will do after such
remarks, she was thinking of other
things. Idly Hugh watched the saun-
terer disappear in the more crowded
part of the esplanade, and for a mo-
ment there came onto his face a look
which, happily for his wife's peace of
mind, she failed to notice.
“Let's go and eat, and after dinner
Il run you up to the top of the head-
ands.
Together they strolled back to their
hotel. In his pocket was the plece of
paper; and who could be sending him
messages in such a manner save one
man—a man now awaiting his trial?
In the hall he stayed behind to In-
guire for letters, and a man nodded te
“| him.
“Heard the news?’ he inquired.
“No,” sald Hugh. “What's hap.
vened ?”
“That man Peterson and the gir
have got away. No trace of 'em.”
Then he looked at Drummond curious-
ly. “By the way, you had something
to do with that show, didn’t you?”
“A little,” smiled Hugh. “Jast a lit-
tle.”
“Police bound to catch ’em again”
continued the other. “Can’t hide your-
self these days.”
And once again Hugh smiled, as he
drew from his pocket the piece of pa-
per:
“Only au revoir, my friend; only an
vevoir.”
He glanced at the words written in |
| P'etergon’s neat writing, ang the spit
| broadened. Assuredly life war stil
good ; assuredly. .
And into an ash tray nearby he
dropped a piece of paper torn into 8
hundred tiny fragments.
“Was that a love-letter?’ she de-
| inanded with assumed jealousy. °
“Not exactly, sweetheart,”
laughed Back. “Not exaetly.” Ana
over the glasses their eyes met.
“Here's to hoping. kid; heres te
hoping.”
he
[THE END.]}
EDUCATORS BAN SIMPLIFIED
SPELLING.
Simplified spelling is dead as far as
the National Education Association is
concerned. At its Des Moines conven-
tion the organization decided to ad-
here to the standard form. This ac-
tion was taken despite the protests of
E. 0. Vail, of Oak Park, Illinois, who
had championed simplified spelling
before the association for nineteen
years. The educators took action
looking to the holding of an interna-
tional congress on education in this
country in the future. The ultimate
object is to form an international ed-
ucation body. Plans will be drawn up
and submitted at the national session
next year.
The 75,000 members were urged to
work for universal good citizenship
and Americanization through employ-
ment of well qualified and trained
teachers, elimination of illiteracy
which is said to prevail among 25 per
cent. of the population of this coun-
try, nationalization of the non-Ameri-
can element, universal training in cit-
izenship, equalization of educational
opportunities, and by the addition of a
secretary of education in the cabinet
at Washington. The association fa-
vors the establishment of a bureau of
economies to disseminate information
on school matters.
College graduates are practicing
race suicide by bringing 3p too small
families, said Maurice Riker, assist-
ant director of the U. S. public health
service, in addressing the convention.
geny of 1000 college graduates will
not exceed 50 in 100 years, whereas in
a like period 1000 illiterate foreigners
will be multiplied at least 100 times.
He advocated the teaching of sex mat-
ters openly in public schools but some
of the other delegates—including
Judge Ben Lindsey, of Denver,—ques-
tioned whether this would not increase
immorality.
The morals of High school students
came in for considerable discussion.
C. E. Barker, of Chicago, charged
grave conditions in High schools to-
ay. Dr. W. A. Howe, N.Y. state
medical inspector, answered him by
saying that the morals of the children
are just as good as the morals of the
community.
Advertising is even more import-
ant to business than labor, raw mater-
ial, production, marketing and organ.
ization, said John J. igert, . S.
Commissioner of Education. This fact
ed by the rapidity with
which courses in advertising are being
established in schools generally.—Ex.
Federal records show that the pro-
HERE SRR,
FARM NOTES.
—_If farmers distributed their sales
evenly through the year, one-twelfth,
or eight and one-half per cent. of their
sales would be made each month.
—In any flock some hens will be
found to be much better producers
than others. Often there are few hens
that are such poor layers that it
doesn’t pay to keep them. Where the
flock is small the owner can determine
by observation which hens are merely
bearers) and these are the ones to
eat.
_ —A gratifying report telling of an
increase in American aigrets noted on
a plantation on the Cooper River in
South Carolina has been received by
the Bureau of Biological Survey, Unit-
ed States Department of Agriculture,
from a correspondent there. Two
years ago, the writer said, he saw on
his plantation two birds of this vari-
ety; last season he counted ten; and
this year he found twenty-nine on two
different occasions. Officials express
themselves as much pleased with such
results of the protection afforded mi-
gratory birds under the Federal bird
treaty act.
—The one kind of poultry of ques-
tionable economic status on the farms
lis the pigeon, the specialists of the
| United States Department of Agricul-
| ture say in Secretary’s Circular 107.
! Almost exclusively a grain eater, the
pigeon renders no notable service as
a conserver of waste, unless it is
shattered grain in the fields, and that
in large measure would be taken up
by other poultry and by pigs. The
pigeon has a place in the scheme of
urban poultry production, but, except
in isolated instances where conditions
are peculiarly favorable, its produc-
tion on farms may not be desirable.
—An orange box makes a good nest
for hens. Remove the top, put the box
on its side, and nail a strip about 3
inches wide along the bottom in front.
It is preferable to fasten this box to
the wall, as it takes too much room on
the floor. Each box, the middle piece
being left intact, makes two nests.
There ought to be one nest for every
four or five hens, say poultry special-
ists of the United States Department
of Agriculture. Straw or other ma-
terial used for nests should be kept
| clean and fresh. Be sure to keep
enough straw in the box to prevent
eggs striking the floor. If an egg
breaks, the hen may learn to eat it,
and this is a difficult habit to break.
—“I have seen scores of farmers
who complain of their grapes rotting
on the vines, pass under their grape
arbors a dozen times a day with spray
materials and spraying apparatus for
use on potatoes, but never thinking to
use them on the grapes to prevent rot-
ting” says Professor E. L. Nixon, ex-
tension plant disease specialist of The
Pennsylvania State College. “It would
be a matter of only a few minutes’
time and little expense to turn that
spray on the grapes right now and re-
peat the operation in two weeks, if
the farmer would only think to do it.
The grape mildews will get in their
| work from now on, and applications
| of 4-3-50 Bordeaux mixture will do a
{ great deal to cut down losses from rot.
| All clusters should be well drenched.”
—Any leather ‘article is almost cer-
| tain to mildew if kept in a warm,
| damp, dark place, such as a closet,
i cellar, or stable. This mildew prob-
'ably will not seriously reduce the
| serviceability of the leather, unless
! allowed to remain on it too long. It
| may, however, change the color ap-
| preciably, thus injuring the appear-
! ance.
The simplest way to prevent mil-
dewing, says the United States De-
partment of Agriculture, is to keep
the leather in a well-ventilated, dry,
well-lighted place, preferably one ex-
posed to the sunlight. Mildew can not
make much headway in the sunshine.
' When mildew develops, it should be
washed off with soap and warm water,
or simply wiped off with a moist cloth,
drying the leather well afterwards.
These simple measures are better than
the use of preparations to prevent the
growth of mildew.
—Poorly nourished cows give birth
' to weak, puny calves which are hard
to raise. The feeding of the calf,
therefore, begins before it is born.
The food elements necessary for the
development of the calf are taken into
the stomach of the cow , digested, as-
gimilated, and transmitted to the calf
; through the umbilical cord, the con-
' nection between the mother and the
calf. It is evident that if the cow
' does not receive food enough to keep
| herself in thrifty condition and at the
| same time develop her calf, say spe-
| cialists of the United States Depart-
| ment of Agriculture, both she and the
| calf must suffer. :
| In endeavoring to raise good, thrif-
| ty calves many dairymen handicap
| themselves at the start by not proper-
ly feeding the pregnant cows. Such
' cows should have an abundance of
| palatable and succulent or juicy feed
'in order to insure good body flesh and
healthy, thrifty condition at calving
, time. The calves will then be well de-
i veloped, strong, and sturdy, and ready
to respond normally to proper feed
! and care.
| —Guinea fowl are growing in favor
i as a substitute for game birds, with
| the result that guinea raising is be-
| coming more profitable. Guinea fowl
‘are raised, usually, in small flocks on
| general farms, and need a large range
i for best results.
Domesticated guinea fowl are of
three varieties, Pearl, White and Lav-
ender. The Pearl is by far the most
| popular, say specialists of the United
. States Department of Agriculture.
| Guinea fowl have a tendency to
mate in pairs, but one male may be
mated successfully with three or four
‘ females. The hens begin to lay, usu-
ally, in April or May, and will lay 20
to 30 eggs before becoming broody. If
not allowed to sit they will continue
to lay throughout the summer, laying
from 40 to 60 or more eggs. Eggs
may be removed from the nest when
the guinea hen is not sitting, but two
or more eggs should be left in the nest.
Ordinary hens are used commonly
to hatch and rear guinea chicks, but
guinea hens and turkey hens are used
successfully, although they are more
* difficult to manage. Guineas are mar-
keted late in the summer, when they
weigh from 1 to 13 pounds, at about
23 months old, and also through the
fel), when the demand is for heavier
irds.