9 "
on,
Ea
ge
Fe
23
|
SYNOPSIS
ER IL—Arriving at the lonely
tle railroad station of El Cajon, New
exico, Madeline Hammond, New York
1, finds no one to meet her. While in
e waiting room a drunken cowboy en-
asks if she is married, and departs,
ving her terrified, He returns with a
priest, who goes through some sort of
Oeremony, and the cowboy forces her to
say ‘‘SL” Asking her name and learning
her identity the cowboy seems dazed. In
$ shooting scrape outside the room a
can is killed. The cowboy lets a
1, “Bonita,” take his horse and escape,
en conducts Madeline to Florence
ey, friend of her brother.
" CHAPTER Il.—Florence welcomes her,
rns her story, and dismisses the cow-
y, Gene Stewart, Next day Alfred
mmond, Madeline's brother, takes
tewart to task. Madeline exonerates
of any wrong intent.
CHAPTER IIl.—Alfred, scion of a
Fealthy family, had been dismissed from
8 home because of his dissipation.
Madeline sees that the West has re-
deemed him. She meets Stillwell, Al's
employer, typical western ranchman.
Madeline learns Stewart has gone over
the border,
* CHAPTER IV.—Danny Mains, one of
Btillwell’s cowboys, has disappeared,
with some of Stillwell’'s money. His
friends link his name with the girl Bo-
CHAPTER V.—Madeline gets a glimpse
of life on a western ranch, aby, wipe
x E hd TH
DAE = & “+
CHAPTER V1.—Stewart's horse comes
to the ranch with a note on the saddle
asking Madeline to accept the beautiful
animal. With her brother's consent she
does so, naming him ‘‘Majesty,” her own
pet nickname. Madeline, independently
rich, arranges to buy Stillwell’s ranch
d that of Don Carlos, a Mexican neigh-
Tr.
® CHAPTER VIL—Madeline feels she
has found her right place, under the light
of the western stars.
CHAPTER VIII.—Learning Stewart had
been hurt in a brawl at Chiricahua, and
knowing her brother's fondness for him,
Madeline visits him and persuades him to
come to the ranch as the boss of her
cowboys.
CHAPTER IX.—Jim Nels, Nick Steele,
and “Monty” Price are Madeline's chief
riders. They have a feud with Don Car-
los’ vaqueros, who are really guerrillas.
Madeline pledges Stewart to see that
peace is kept.
CHAPTER X.—Madeline and Florence,
returning home from Alfred’s ranch, run
into an ambush of vaqueros. Florence,
knowing the Mexicans are after Made-
line, decoys them away, and Madeline
gets home safely but alone.
CHAPTER XI1.—A raiding guerrilla
band carries off Madeline, Stewart fol-
lows alone. The leader is a man with
whom Stewart had served in Mexico. He
releases the girl, arranging for ransom.
Returning home with Stewart, Madeline
finds herself strangely stirred.
Madeline remembered that despite
Stillwell’'s simplicity he was as deep
as any of his cowbeys, and there was
absolutely no gaging him where possi-
bilities of fun were concerned. Made-
line fancied that his exaggerated talk
about the cowboys’ sudden craze for
golf was in line with certain other re-
markable tales that had lately emanat-
ed from him. Some very strange things
had occurred of late, and it was im-
possible to tell whether or not they
were accidents, mere coincidents, or
deep-laid, skillfully worked-out designs
of the fun-loving cowboys. Certainly
there had been great fun, and at the
expense of her guests, particularly
Castleton. So Madeline was at a loss
to know what to think about Stillwell’s
Te elaboration. Bane There a
Qf habit she sympathized with him and
found dif qulty in doubting his appar
ent sincerity. ; r
“To gb back a ways,” went on Still-
well, as Madeline looked on expect-
antly, “you recollect what pride the
boys took in fixin® up that gol-lof
‘course out on the mesa? Wal, they
worked on the job, an’ though I never
seen any other course, I'll gamble
yours can't be beat. The boys was
sure curious about that game. You
recollect also how they all wanted to
see you an’ your brother play, an’ be
caddies for you? Wal, whenever you'd
quit they’d go to work tryin’ to play
the game. Monty Price, he was the
leadin’ spirit. Old as I am, Miss Maj-
esty, an’ used as I am to cowboy ex-
centrikities, I nearly dropped daid
when I heerd that little hobble-footed,
burned-up Montana cow-puncher say
there wasn't any game too swell for
him, an’ gol-lof was just his speed.
Serious as a preacher, mind you, he
was. An’ he was always practicin’,
When Stewart gave him charge of the
colfge an’ the clubhouse an’ all them
funny sticks, why, Monty was tickled
to death. You see, Monty is sensitive
that he ain't much good any more for
cowboy work. He was glad to have a
job that he didn’t feel he was hangin’
to by kindness. Wal, he practiced the
w JE se
"asgame, an’ he read the books in the
clit
use, an’ he got the boys to doin’
© same. That wasn't very hard, I
reckon. They played early an’ late an’
in the moonlight. For a while Monty
was coach, an’ the boys stood it.
pretty soon Frankie Slade got puffed
on his game, an’ he had to have it out
with Monty. Wal, Monty beat him
bad. Then one after another the other
boys tackled Monty. He beat them all.
After that they split up an’ began to
play matches, two on a side. For a
spell this worked fine. But cowboys
can't never he satisfied long onless
they win all the time. Monty an’ Link
Stevens, both cripples, you might say,
joined forces an’ elected to beat all
comers. Wal, they did, an’ that’s the
trouble. Down at the bunks in the
But |
SHV
E. S11 CBT]
evenin's it’s seme mortifyin’ the way
Monty an’ Link crow over the rest of
the outfit. They've taken on superior
airs. You couldn't reach up to Monty
with a trimmed spruce pole. An’ Link
—wal, he’s just amazin’ scornful. I
want to say, for the good of ranchin’,
not to mention a possible fight, that
Monty an’ Link hev got to be beat.
There'll be no peace round this ranch
till that’s done.”
Madeline could hardly control her
mirth,
“What in the world can I do?”
“Wal, I reckon I couldn't say. I
only come to you for advice. All I'm
sure of is that the conceit has got to
be taken out of Monty an’ Link.”
“Stillwell, listen,” said Madeline,
brightly. “We'll arrange a match
game, a foursome, hetween Monty and
Link and your best picked team. Cas-
tleton, who is an expert golfer, will
umpire. My sister, and friends, and I
will take turns as caddies for your
team. That will be fair, considering
vours is the weaker. Caddies may
coach, and perhaps expert advice is all
that is necessary for your team to de-
feat Monty's.” , -
WA #Fand Idee” declared Stillwell,
with instant decision. “When can we
have this match game?” .
“Why, today—this afternoon. We'll
all ride out to the links.”
The idea was as enthusiastically re-
ceived hy Madeline’s guests as it had
been by Stillwell. Madeline was
pleased to note how seriously they had
taken the old cattleman's story. She
had a little throb of wild expectancy
that made her both fear and delight
in the afternoon’s prospect.
The June days had set in warm; in
fact, hot during the noon hours; and
this had inculcated in her insatiable
visitors a tendency to profit by the ex-
perience of those used to the South-
west. They indulged in the restful
festa during the heated term of the
ks TEP LTR een
1 aE Samwet als O
Madeline was awakened hy Majes-
1's well-known whistle and pounding
on the gravel. Then she heard the
other horses. When she went out she
round ner party assembled in gala goir
attire, and with spirits to match their
costumes. Castleton, especially, ap-
peared resplendent in a golf coat that
beggared description. Madeline haa
faint misgivings when she reflected on
what Monty and Nels and Nick might
do under the influence of that blazing
garment. }
“Oh, Majesty,” cried Helen, as Mad-
eline went up to her horse, “don’t
make him kneel! Try that flying
mount. We all want to see it. It’s so
stunning.”
“But that way, too, I must have him
kneel,” said Madeline,
reach the stirrup. He's so tremen-
dously high.”
Madeline had to yield to the laugh-
ing insistence of her friends, and after
all of them except Florence were up
she made Majesty go down on one
knee. Then she stood on his left side,
facing back, and todk a good firm grip
on the bridle and pommel and his
mane, After she had siipped the toe
of her boot firmly into the stirrup she
pa to Majesty. He Jumped and
swung her up into the saddle.
“Now just to see how it ought to be
done watch Florence,” said Madeline.
The Western girl was at her best in
riding-habit and with her horse. It
was beautiful to see the ease and
grace with which she accomplished
the cowboys’ flying mount. Then she
led the party down the slope and
across the flat to climb the mesa.
Madeline never saw a group of cow-
boys without looking them over, almost
unconsciously, for her foreman, Gene
Stewart. This afternoon, as usual, he
was not present. However, she now
had a sense—of which she was wholly
conscious—that she was both disap-
pointed and irritated. Ee had really
not been attentive to her guests, and
he, of all her cowboys, was the one of
Who they wanted most to see some-
thing. = “Sema Tlic» ome
Stewart, however, immediately
slipped out of her mind as she sur-
veyed the group of cowboys on the
links, By actual count there were six-
teen, not including Stillwell. The cow-
boys were on dress-parade, looking
very different in Madeline’s eyes, at
least, from the way cowboys usually
appeared. Sombreros with silver
buckles and horsehair bands were in
evidence; and bright silk scarfs, em-
broidered vests, fringed and ornament-
ed chaps, huge swinging guns, and
clinking silver spurs lent a festive ap-
pearance.
“Wal, you-all raced over, I seen,”
said Stillwell, taking Madeline's bridle.
“Get down—get down. We're sure
amazin’ glad an’ proud. An’, Miss
Majesty, I'm offerin’ to beg pawdin
for the way the boys are packin’ guns.
Mebbe it ain’t polite. But it’s Stew-
art’s orders.”
“Stewart's orders!” echoed Made-
line, Her friends were suddenly silent.
“I reckon he won't take no chances
on the boys bein’ surprised sudden by
raiders. An’ there's raiders operatin’
‘I've heard?
“or. 1 can’t!
in from the Guadalupes.
Nothin’ to worry over.
plainin’.”
Madeline, with several of her party,
expressed relief, but Helen showed ex-
citement and then disappointment.
“Oh, I want something to happen!”
she cried.
Sixteen pairs of keen cowboy eyes
fastened intently upon her pretty, petu-
lant face; and Madeline divined, if
Helen did not, that the desired con-
summation was not far off.
“So do I,” said Dot Coombs. “It
would be perfectly lovely to have a
real adventure.” :
The gaze of the sixteen cow boys
shifted and sought the demure face of
this other discontented girl. Made-
line laughed, and Stillwell wore his
strange, moving smile,
Monty and Link, like two emperors,
came stalking across the links.
Madeline's friends were hugely
amused over the prospective match;
but, except for Dorothy and Castleton,
they disclaimed any ambition for ac-
tive participation. Accordingly, Made-
line appointed Castleton to judge the
play, Dorothy to act as caddie for Ed
Linton, and she herself to be caddie
for Ambrose. While Stillwell beaming-
ly announced this momentous news to
his team and supporters Monty and
Link were striding up.
Both were diminutive in size, bow-
legged, lame in one foot, and altogeth-
er unprepossessing, Link was young,
and Monty's years, more than twice
Link’s, had left their mark. But it
would have been impossible to teil
Monty's age. He was burned to the
color and hardness of a cinder. He
was dark-faced, swaggering, for all the
world like a berbarian chief.
“That Monty makes my flesh creep,”
sald Helen, low-voiced. “Really, Mr.
Stillwell, is he so bad—desperate—as
Did he ever kill any-
That’s all.
I was just ex-
body?” .
“Sure. 'Most as many as Nels,” re-
plied Stillwell, cheerfully.
“Oh! And is that nice Mr. Nels a
desperado, too? I wouldn't have
thought so. He's so kind and old-fash-
foned and soft-voiced.”
“Nels is sure an example of the
dooplicity of men, Miss Helen. Don’t
you listen to his soft voice. He's real-
ly as bad as a side-winder rattlesnake.”
One of the eowboys came for Castle-
ton and led him away to exploit upon
ground rules.
The game began. At first Madeline
‘and Dorothy essayed to direct the en-
deavors of their respective players.
But all they said and did only made
their team play the worse. At the
third hole they were far behind and
hopelessly bewildered,
Madeline and her party sat up to
watch the finfsh of the match. It came
with spectacular suddenness. A sharp
veil pealed out, and all the cowboys
turned attentively in its direction. 2
big black horse had surmounted the
rim of the mesa and was just breaking
into a run. His rider yelled sharply
to the cowboys. They wheeled to dash
toward their grazing horses.
“That’s Stewart. There Is some-
thing wrong,” said Madeline, in alarm.
Castleton stared. The other men ex-
claimed uneasily. The women sought
Madeline's face with anxious eyes.
The black got into his stride and
bore swiftly down upon them.
Madeline divided her emotions be-
tween growing alarm of some danger
menacing and a thrill and quickening
of pulse-beat that tingled over her
whenever she saw Stewart in violent
action. No action of his was any
longer insignificant,’ but violent action
It might mean any
For one moment she remem-
— ay,
.
meant so much.
thing.
No Action of His Was Any Longer In-
significant, but Violent Action Meant
80 Much, :
bered Stillwell and all his talk about
fun, and plots, and tricks to amuse her
guests. Then she discountenanced the
thought. Stewart might lend himself
to a little fun, but he cared too much
for a horse to run him at that speed
unless there was imperious need. That
alone sufficed to answer Madeline's
questioning curiosity. And her alarm
mounted to fear not so much for her-
op - sty] -
gelf as for her guests. But what dan-
ger could there be? She could think
of nothing except the guerrillas.
Whatever threatened, it would be
met and checked by this man Stewart,
who was thundering up on his fleet
horse; and as he neared her, so that
she could see the dark gleam of face
and eyes, she had a strange feeling of
trust in her dependence upon him.
The big black was so close to Made-
line and her friends that when Stew-
art pulled him the dust and sand
kicked up by his pounding hoofs flew
in their faces.
“Oh, Stewart,
Madeline.
“Guess I scared you, Miss Ham-
mond,” he replied. “But I'm pressed
for time. There's a gang of bandits
hiding on the ranch, most likely in a
deserted hut. They held up a train
near Agua Prieta. Pat Hawe is with
the posse that’s trailing them, and you
know Pat has no use for us. I'm afraid
it wouldn't be pleasant for you or your
guests to meet either the posse or the
bandits.”
“I fancy not,” said Madeline, con-
siderably relieved. “We'll hurry back
to the house.”
They exchanged no more speech at
the moment, and Madeline's guests
were silent. Perhaps Stewart's ac-
tions and looks belied his calm words.
His piercing eyes roved round the rim
of the mesa, and his face was as hard
and stern as chiseled bronze.
Monty and Nick came galloping up,
each leading several horses by the
bridles. Nels appeared behind them
with Majesty, and he was having trou-
ble with the roan. Madeline observed
that all the other cowboys had disap-
what is it?’ cried
peared.
One sharp word from Stewart
calmed Madeline's horse; the other
horses, however, were frightened and
not inclined to stand. The men mount-
ed without trouble, and likewise Made-
iine and Florence. But Edith Wayne
and Mrs. Beck, being nervous and al-
most helpless, were with difliculty got-
ten into the saddle. 5
“Beg pardon, but I'm pressed for
time,” said Stewart, coolly, as with
fron arm he forced Dorothy’s horse
almost to its knees. Dorothy, who
was active and plucky, climbed
astride; and when Stewart loosed his
hold on bit and mane the horse
doubled up and began to buck. Dorothy
screamed as she shot into the air.
Stewart, as quick as the horse, leaped
forward i caught 0 in his
Api -
arms. She had slipped head down-
ward, and, had he not caught her,
would have had a serious fall. Stew-
art, handling her as if she were a
child, turned her right side up to set
her upon her feet. Dorothy evidently
thought only of the spectacle she pre-
sented, and made startled motions to
readjust her riding-habit. It was no
time to laugh, though Madeline felt as
if she wanted to. Besides, it was im-
possible to be anything but sober with
Stewart in violent mood. For he had
jumped at Dorothy’s stubborn mount.
All cowboys were masters of horses.
It was wonderful to see him conquer
the vicious animal. He was cruel, per-
haps, vet it was from necessity. When,
presently, he led the horse back fo
Dorothy she mounted without further
trouble. Meanwhile, Nels and Nick
had lifted Helen into her saddle.
“We'll take the side trail,” said
Stewart, shortly, as he swung upon the
- big black. Then he led the way, and
the other fowhoye trotted In the rear,
It was a loose trail. The weathered
slopes seemed to slide under the feet
of the horses. Dust-clouds formed;
rocks rolled and rattled down; cactus
spikes tore at horse and rider. Half
the time Madeline could not distin-
guish those ahead through the yellow
dust. It was dry and made her cough.
The horses snorted. At length the
clouds of dust thinned and Madeline
saw the others before her ride out
upon a level. Soon she was down, and
Stewart also.
The alert, quiet manner of all the
cowboys was not reassuring. As they
resumed the ride it was noticeable
that Nels and Nick were far in ad-
vance, Monty stayed far in the rear,
and Stewart rode with the party.
Madeline knew that they were really
being escorted home under armed
guard.
When they rounded the head of the
mesa, bringing into view the ranch-
house and the valley, Madeline saw
dust or smoke hovering over a hut
upon the outskirts of the Mexican
quarters. As the sun had set and the
light was fading, she could not distin-
guish which it was. Then Stewart set
8 fast pace for the hogse Tn a Tew
minutes the Party was In (he ‘yard,
ready and willing {to dismount.
Stillwell appeared, ostensibly cheer-
ful, too cheerful to deceive Madeline.
She noted also that a number of
armed cowhoys were walking with
their horses just below the house.
“Wal, you-all had a nice little run,”
Stillwell said, speaking generally. “I
reckon there wasn’t much need of it.
Pat Hawe thinks he’s got some out-
laws corralled on the ranch. Nothin’
at all to be fussed up about. Stew-
art’s that particular he won't have you
meetin’ with any rowdies.”
Many and fervent were the expres-
slons of relief from Madeline's femi-
nine guests as they dismounted and
went into the house. Madeline lin-
gered behind to speak with Stillwell
and Stewart.
“Now, . Stillwell, out with it,” she
sald, briefly.
“Wal, Miss Majesty, there’s goin’ to
be a fight somewhere, an’ Stewart
wanted to get you-all in before it come
off. He says the valley's overrun by
vaqueros an’ guerrillas an’ robbers, an’
Lord knows what else.”
He stamped off the porch, his huge
spurs rattling, and started “down the
path toward the waiting men.
Stewart stood in his familiar atten-
tive position, erect, silent, with a
hand on pommel and bridle.
“Stewart, you are exceedingly—
thoughtful of my interests,” she said,
wanting to thank him, and not readily
finding words. “I would not know
what to do without you. Is there dan-
ger?”
“I'm not sure;
the safe side.”
She hesitated. It was no longer easy
for her to talk to him, and she dif not
know why.
But I want to be on
“May I know the special orders you ,
gave Nels and Nick and Monty?’ she
asked.
“Of course I'll tell you if you insist.
My orders were that at least one of
them must be on guard near you day
and night—never to be out of hearing
of your voice.”
“I .thought as much. Stewart, you
still think Don Carlos tried to make
‘off with me—may try it again?”
“I don’t think. I know.”
“And besides all your other duties
you have shared the watch with these
three cowboys?”
“Yes”
“It has been going on without my |
knowledge?
tinue?”
“That’s hard to say. Till the revo-
lution is over, anyhow.”
She mused a moment, looking away
to the west, where the great void was
filling with red haze. She believed im-
plicitly in him, and the menace hover-
Ing near her fell like a shadow upon
her present happiness.
“What must I do?” she asked.
“I think you ought to send your
friends back East—and go with them,
until this guerrilla war is over.”
“Why, Stewart, they would be
broken-hearted. and so would 1.”
He had no reply for that.
“If I do not take your advice it will
be the first time since I have come to
look to you for so much,” she went on.
“Cannot you suggest something else?
My friends are having such a splendid
visit. Helen is getting well. Oh, I
should be sorry to see them go before
they want to.”
“We might take them up Into the
mountains and camp out for a while,”
he said, presently. “I know a wild
place up among the crags. It's a hard
climb, but worth the work. I never
saw a more beautiful spot. Fine wa-
ter, and it will be cool. Pretty soon
it'll be too hot here for your party to
go out-of-doors.”
““you mean to hide me away among
the crags and clouds?” replied Made-
line, with a laugh. :
“Well, it'd amount to that. Your
friends need not know. Perhaps in a
few weeks this spell of trouble on the
border will be over till fall.”
“You say it’s a hard climb up to this
place?”
“It surely is. Your friends will get
the real thing if they make that trip.”
“That suits me. Helen especially
wants something to happen. Very
well, I am decided. Stewart, of course
you will take charge? I don’t believe
I— Stewart, isn’t there something
more you could tell me—why you
think, why you know my own personal
liherty is In perfl?”
“Yes. But do not ask me what it is,
If I hadn't been a rebel soldier I would
never have known.”
“If you had not been a rebel soldier,
where wouid Madeline Hammond bhé
now?” she asked, earnestly.
He made no reply. :
“Stewart,” she continued, with warm
How long is it to con-
“oa xe 4 ge
impnise, “vou once mentioned a debt
you owed me—" And seeing his dark
face pale. she wavered. then went ou,
“It is paid.”
“No, no. That never can be paid.”
Madeline held cut her hand.
“It is paid, I tell you,” she repeated.
Suddenly he drew back from the
outstretched white hand that seemed
to fascinate him.
“I'd kill a man to touch your han:l,
But I won’t touch it on the terms you
offer.”
His unexpected passion disconcerted
her.
“Stewart, no man ever before re-
fused to shake hands with me, for any
reason. It—it is scarcely flattering.”
she said, with a little laugh. “Why
won't you? Because you think I offer
it as mistress to servant—rancher to
cowhoy ?”
“No
“Then why? The debt you owed me
is paid. I cancel it. So why not shake
hands upon it, as men do?”
“I won't. That’s all.”
“I fear you are ungracious, whatever
vour reason,” she replied. “Still, I
may offer it again some day. Good-
night.”
ot .
(To be continued). :
STOCK SUSQUEHANNA WITH CO-
LUMBIA RIVER SALMON.
In an effort to restore food fish to
the Susquehanna river, 30,000 Royal
Chinook, or Columbia river salmon,
were released on Octoraro creek, a
tributary emptying into the river, five
miles north of Port Deposit, Mary-
land. These baby fish, as long as one’s
finger and called fingerlings, were
procured from the bureau of fisheries,
Washington, through the efforts of
former Senator Joseph I. France and
were liberated by George W. Williams.
Two years ago a few thousand of
these fish were liberated at the same
spot and were not expected to return
to the Susquehanna until this spring,
yet late in the fall several were caught
by hook and line. They measured as
much as eight or nine inches in length.
Those who are familiar with the hab-
its of the chinooks say that they will
return this year to the stream in
which they were liberated, weighing
six to ten pounds, and wil prove a
splendid substitute for the ruined
sport of rock-fishing.
This branch of the salmon family
grow to weigh 60 to 75 pounds and
are as game fish as are found any-
where. They are so quick and strong
that the ordinary net offers no resist-
ance. They go through or over, as
fancy distates. In their home waters
they are said to jump right over the
high falls that abound and the Indian
way of taking them is to spear them
in their flight.
While the local sportsmen feel that
the experiment will be a success the
bureau is not so sanguine. A local
man, Harry Smithson, who has spent
a number of years in the Columbia
river fisheries, is one of the advocates
of the stocking of the streams and
describes the conditions of the two
streams as being very similar.
FARM NOTES.
{ —Burn all prunings from trees and
| vines the day they are cut.
| —After nine years of experimenta-
| tion, William S. Weaver, of Macun-
gie, Pa., has developed a variety of
corn known as Pennsylvania improved
yellow gleaming.
—Leg weakness in chicks is often
caused by lack of bulk in the ration.
Be sure there is plenty of food, such
las bran, in the mash, so the young-
sters will not get in this condition.
—Spring housecleaning methods
can be applied to the hog farm by
giving your pigs a good oiling for lice
and dosing them for worms. Where
practicable, move the hog houses and
plow up the hog lots for summer for-
age. :
—The delayed dormant spray for
fruit trees should be on by this time
in northern counties. The “pink
spray” should be on in southern and
central Pennsylvania counties. Care
should be exercised that no nicotine is
included in the “pink spray.”
—There is a little wasp which is
parasitic on the egg of the chinch bug.
This little wasp deposits its egg in the
egg of the chinch bug and the little
{larvae which hatches destroys the
chinch bug egg. During some seasons
, as high as 30 per cent. of the chinch
| bug eggs have been known to be de-
i stroyed by this little parasite. Un-
fortunately this parasite cannot al-
| ways be relied upon, but at times its
value cannot be overestimated.
| —Hundreds of dollars in extra re-
| turns have been secured by farmers
rand market gardeners who use con-
( trol methods against losses from the
| cabbage root maggot. The control is
, very simple. Many use the little tar-
' paper discs which are placed about the
younz plant when it is placed in the
field. The county agent can advise
{ where these discs are secured. Corro-
sive sublimate, one part to 1000, is
also a good control measure. Pour
half a cup of the diluted mixture
about each plant within five days after
setting and again in ten days.
_—The protection of all insect-eating
birds—and that means most of the
birds we have—is urged by L. Hase-
man, entomologist at the Missouri
College of Agriculture. Virtually all
our summer song birds subsist mainly
on an insect diet, and in rearing their
nestlings they destroy vast numbers
of insects.
Another great insect destroyer is
the common toad. It is not below the
dignity of the toad to include in its
almost hourly repast all of the chinch
bugs that it can conveniently handle.
The lowly toad deserves protection.
_ —The steady increase in the use of
lime for soil improvement is making
it more and more difficult to secure
lime during the late summer when
liming is usually done. In sections of
the country where liming is practiced
more generally it has become neces-
sary for farmers who need lime +o
plan to use it whenever it is possi)le
to get it.
Recent experimeénts Indicate that
very satisfactory results can be secur-
ed from applications of lime made in
the spring on corn land or on soy-
bean land. When these crops are fol-
lowed by wheat or oats and then clo-
ver, the lime will have a very good ef-
fect on the clover if enough lime is ap-
plied. In the past it has usually been
recommended that lime applications
be made on land just prior to the seed-
ing of wheat, but more recent investi-
gations show that the spring applica-
tions may be expected to make just as
good returns.
—Among the new fruits recently
developed by the New York Agricul-
tural Experiment Station at Geneva
are seven new varieties of grapes,
which have proved their superiority
to existing varieties grown in the sta-
tion vineyards.
Four of these new grapes—Brocton,
Ontario, Portland and Ripley—are
green grapes; two, the Dunkirk and
the Urbana, are red grapes, and one,
the Sheridan, is a black grape, which
it is thought will compete with the
Concord.
Some of these new sorts are al-
ready well known to grape growers,
while all of them are deemed pretty
worthy of trial for commercial and
home planting.
Several of the new fruit varieties
developed by the station horticultur-
ists are now established commercial
sorts, and it is believed that in time
some of the new station grapes will
replace varieties which are now re-
garded as standard. *
—~Cleanliness is just as important
in the successful raising of turkeys as
it isin raising other kinds of poultry,
says Miss Sara Reitz, Broadacres
farm, Brookville, Pa. Our runs are
well covered with lime at all times, the
dropping-boards are well dusted with
slaked lime, and the houses are disin-
fected with carbola or carbolineum.
Equal parts of lime and sand are mix-
ed with water into a mortar and put
on the ground in the runway. Quite
a bit of this plaster is eaten, and it
helps in the making of bone and pro-
viding a good frame.
Having had but few cases which
might have been diagnosed as black-
head in our flock, no remedies can be
given. The only unmistakable case
which we had was that of a tom which
died three weeks after its arrival at
the farm. The post-mortem of that
turkey was convincing that there is no
cure for blackhead in its advanced
stages, not even by surgical treat-
ment, were that possible. With
enough succulent food and proper
feeding methods blackhead is not
feared.
But the turkey that looks like “tur-
key heaven” to us is the one that
stands around on one foot and eats no
breakfast, picks up a lettuce leaf at
noon and swallows slowly; at supper
seemingly wants to eat, but does not.
This is turkey indigestion. If it is is-
olated at once and given nothing but
thick milk for a day, then several
days with milk and soft mash, it can
be put back with the flock as good as
new. If it is allowed to stay with the
larger birds, they seem to notice its
indisposition, and pick at it and seem
to purposely shove it from the feed
trays. Finally, after several days,
you find it dead in a corner. This in-
digestion may come at any age, and
the caretaker ought to be constantly
on the lookout for just such cases.