Democratic watchman. (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1855-1940, November 25, 1927, Image 2

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    ‘ Bellefonte, Pa., November 25, 1927.
SEUSS
The Punctuation Points.
Six little marks from school are we,
Very important, all agree
Filled to the brim with mystery,
Six little marks from school.
One little mark is round and small,
But where it stands the voice must fall,
At the close of a sentence, all
Place this little mark at school:
One little mark, with gown a-trailing,
Holds up the voice, and never failing,
Tells you not long to pause when hailing
This little mark at school:
If out of breath you chance to meet
Two little dots, both round and neat,
Pause, and these tiny guardsmen greet—
These little marks from school:
‘When shorter pauses are your pleasure,
One trails his sword—takes half the meas-
ure,
Then speeds you on to seek new treasure;
This little mark from school:
One little mark, ear-shaped, implies,
“Keep up the voice—await replies;”
To gather information tries
This little mark from school:
One little mark, with an exclamation,
Presents itself to your observation,
And leaves the voice at an elevation,
This little mark from school:
Six little marks! Be sure to heed us;
Carefully study, write, and read us;
For you can never cease to need us,
Six little marks from school!
Selected.
THE “TWISTER.”
“Mother, I've told you time and
again that we've never had a ‘twister’
in this place,” Dan Rushton smiled
down on his mother’s anxious face.
“But that’s not saying that we nev-
er shall. Loetie says —
Her tall sor brought his hand down
vigorously on the table.
“Leotie!” he exploded, “to hear her
talk, one would think we had a tor-
nado out here every week. Can’t you
see that all she wants isto get you
back East to slave yourself to death
for those spoiled youngsters of hers?”
After this usual outburst Dan went
good-humoredly out to work, leaving
his mother still trying to read the sig-
nificance of the ominous cloud bank
forming in the west.
Behind her Dan’s young wife sang
as she rocked ‘Dan Junior: The baby’s
grandmother marveled that anyone
could be indifferent with such a men-
ace boiling up on the horizon. In the
face of such coolness she was con-
strained to hide her own anxiety.
Mrs. Rushton could not understand
herself. It baffled her that she who
as a sturdy young widow had battled
alone and fearlessly in bringing up
her family, should have come here to
find herself a prey to unreasoning
fears that would not-down.
Her first weeks at Midvale Farm
had been filled with sheer delight. The
modern litle home, with Dan and his
mild quiet-voiced wife and one cher-
ub of a baby, had seemed a fair hav-
en after the continual turmoil in her
daughter’s house. It had been pleas-
ant, for a while, to sit idly watching
Rita’s deft hands do the work.
But although she was forced to ad-
mit that she had never been so hap-
pily situated, the idea of forced idle-
nes did not appeal to Mrs. Rushton.
The knitting and the tatting she had
always longed to do, even the pastime
of watching baby, began to pall.
“I never expected to find myself
merely sitting around and doing noth-
ing,” she protested at last. “I'm not
cut out for it.”
“Well, you'll have to get used to
it,” the young people had declared.
‘You have done more than your share
of work already.” :
Life at Loetie’s, with an expectant
brood of six to be waited on, had cer-
tainly been strenuous, but when had
her life been anything else? Her own
babies, scattered now, had scarcely
been off her hands before Leotie’s had
come to assert their claim, and they
had been asserting it lustily ever
since.
At first the idea of deserting them,
of leaving Leotie to manage her own
house and family alone, had seemed
preposterous. Dan, who had come
East on his first visit in years, saw
things diferently. He stood firm in his
purpose to take his mother back with
im.
“But you don’t know how busy Leo-
tie is with outside things. She is al-
ways writing papers for her club or do-
ing settlement work or speaking at
some of the guilds” the mother had
reasoned. “I know I didn’t help much
but Leotie certainly needs someone to
look after the children when she can’t
be with them.’
“Now mother,” Dan had cut 1n,
“you don’t want to worry over Leo-
tie’s children not getting all that’s com-.
ing to them.” He chuckled at the rec-
ollection of clamorous mealtime
scenes in his sister’s home. “Yes sir,
those youngsters will never get left; it
isn’t in them to permit it. I hope your
being away will make Leotie stay
home for a change.”
So, against her better judgment and
to her daughter’s consternation, the
little grandmother found = herself
packed up and hustled off to what
seemed to her untraveled mind very
far west. And it was inevitable that
she should have periods of remorse-
ful wondering about the grandchildren
she had deserted; whether Leotie got
them off to school in time, who mend-
ed Joe’s torn stockings and who saw
that thin, petulant little Allie drank
the milk she needed. It was but naur-
al that, not recovered in mind and
body from the strain of life back there
her thoughts should turn to Leotie’s
final warnings about the cyclone men-
ace,
Leotie knew her mother, the un-
compromising New England con-
1
science and it was to these that she
made her last appeal.
“I Sola think mother would be
afraid to fly inthe face of Providence
that way she would remark in her |
mother’s hearing, “to exchange a safe,
comfortable home for a buried exist-
ence on a farm in the cyclone zone.
They tell me there are rattlesnakes
there, too, and that the summers are
one long sizzle.” :
Dan had never supposed for 2 min-
ute that his mother had taken Leo-
tie’s words seriously. His sister's
knowledge of the country he had come
to call home was sc.vague as to be
amusing. Nevertheless, there was
never a day when the transplanted
New England grandmother did not
think of Leotie’s warning.
It was not until spring was on its
way, with its sunshine and perfumed
breezes, and also with occasional high
winds and sudden violent rainstorms
that Loetie’s words came back to
trouble mother. Every black mass of
clouds recalled the former’s vague
forebodings concerning the dire pen-
alties visited on those who forsook
the plain path of duty.
Back in the sheltered New England
village where rain fell in gentle driz-
zles and the force of every wind was
broken by various obstructions, they
had never known storms such as were
so common in this vast, open country.
The sky which appeared nearer and
more immense here, was awesome
enough when it smiled on the farm-
house and its puny occupants. Its
frown completely destroyed the good
woman’s morale. So it came about that
her guilty fears culminated in one se-
cret dread of that mysterious air
monster, the tornado. The time came
when she never went to bed without
a careful scanning of the heavens, nor
slept a night without getting up to
peer apprehensively out of her wes-
tern window.
She began to see the hand of a pur-
suing Nemesis in every squall that
threatened. When a burst of thunder
shook the skies, or great drops of
rain or hail began to bombard the
windows, she shrank in the most
Feltared corner with a prayer on her
ips.
Had she dared to acknowledge her
terror she would have insisted on
taking everyone to the cellar as the
safest place to meet the peril she
dreaded. She shuddered at the un-
concern of the others, who sat casu-
ally on the porch or otherwise expos-
ed themselves. Afterwards when the
destruction failed to materialize, she
was fervently thankful that she had
been able to keep from betraying the
full extent of her weakness.
. In time she picked up considerable
information about the dreaded cy-
clone. When she heard a conversation
begin, “When we had that cyclone
down in”—she invariably drew nearer.
She learned the hours of the day
when wind storms were most likely
to arrive. She tried to picture the fun-
nelshaped cloud that marked them.
She searched the papers for ac-
counts_of tornados elsewhere, and
when she found one drank in the mea-
ger details with an almost moorbid
thirst. Later she located the stricken
places on the map. So each cyclone
casualty that summer had an unknown
but sympathetic mourner in the little
grandmother at Midvale Farm, -
What comfort was it to her to be
told that the genuine death-breathing
tornado is rare, its swathe compar-
atively narrow, and the distriet in
which they lived considered immune
from its ravages .Her fears would not
be 1casoned away. If, as Leotie seem-
ed to predict there was a judgment
In store for her, what could reason-
ing avail ?
Dan began to fear that his mother
was homesick. “As soon as the roads
dry up we'll get the car out and give
you a real look at this country.” ne
promised
But keenly as she looked forward to
these excursions, the edge of her en-
Joyment could be dulled by the least
threat of bad weather. If she must
die she preferred to die in-doors.
Gradually, as the long, bright sum-
mer days stole on, she began, almost
unsciously, to recover her poise. The
weather became more settled. Al-
though she did not trust them, the
broad, blue heavens were not so con-
stantly menacing. She never tired of
watching the changes in the’ rolling
fields. The regularity of the long rows
of machine-planted corn fascinated
her and she marveled at the rapid
growth of the slender shoots into
quivering green blades. ;
Perhaps the stimulus of a well-or-
dered household, together with the
long hours on shady porch, were do-
ing their part to foster an inner sense
of calm and security. At any rate,
Mrs. Rushton began to believe that
her prayers for an increase of faith
were being answered.
She might even have succeeded in
throwing off the ever-present burden
of Leotie’s family cares if she had
been permitted to help ever so little
in Dan’s home. But Dan was firm;
he was convinced that garden work
was too heavy for her, although she
did contrive on the slip to pull a few
weeds now and then. She longed to
help in the shining kitchen, but there
she was allowed only “ sitting down
jobs,” as she termed them scornfully.
Even the baby was too well trained
to need much care. When his grand-
mother was allowed to hold him, as
a special concession, she knew that
it was at the risk of spoiling the boy.
Once, when he was recovering after a
quite serious illness, she guiltily wel-
comed the chance to keep the fretful
little fellow on her lap while his
mother caught up with her work.
“I wonder why it is,” she said to
Dan that day at dinner time, “that
this baby seems sweeter than any of
Leotie’s ever were? Yet, I was fond
enough of them, too.”
“I guess maybe it’s because you
have more time to enjoy this little
fellow.” Dan reached down to tweak
a bare, pink toe; “1 never saw you
still long enough to enjoy anything at
Leotie’s.” Dan could not think of his
mother’s life at his sister's without a
hot wave of indignation sweeping
over him. It gave him increasing sat~
isfaction to see her getting the rest
she deserved.
“I believe you are beginning to pick
Installation of New Bell Telephone. Cable in
Western Pennsylvania is Engineering Feat
About 6000 Miles of New Wire at a Cost of $200,000 is Being Rapidly Constructed in
the Mountainous Region West of Pittsburgh
Upper—Rehuilding pole
line between McDonald
and Burgettstown.
1 Right—The poles were
erected by derricks
mounted on Bell trucks.
fo
i
i By C. J. MCINTYRE -
Over the wild and hilly districts of
Western Pennsylvania and traveling
almost due west from Pittsburgh
‘goes the new telephone cable which
is being placed by the Bell Telephone
Company of Pennsylvania at a cost
of approximately $200,000. Glinting
in the sun on mountain tops in some
places and through gloomy woods
and rocky gorges in others, the new
cable which will form an ul¥mate link
in the system of telephone ecommuni-
cation between Pittsburgh and Steu-
benville, Ohio, is being constructed
under great natural handicaps. Mod-
ern construction machines and equip-
ment are being used to rapidly over-
come obstacles which would have tried
the patience of the pyramid-building
Egyptians. :
Carnegie and Burgettstown, both in
Pennsylvania, are the terminals of the
new link of cable. While the distance
from one terminal to the other is but
twenty miles, the natural disadvan-
tages of this rocky and hilly region
to all types of pole line construction
have contributed to making the in-
stallatien of the cable a remarkable
engineering feat. There is also need
for protecting the telephone wires
from the effects of the high-tension
electric wires and the burning culm
banks. found in this region. :
About six thousand miles of copper
dg -
. wire will be installed. It will be used:
for replacing all telephone lines now
in place between the terminal towns
and will also provide additional lines
for new telephones and more toll lines
in. the section. Nothing but a heavy
cable would be adequate to satisfac-
torily handle the great volume of tele-
phone calls that every day pass over
west. a :
The intervening country between
Pittsburgh and Steubenville has been
growing rapidly of recent years and
the weather marks on the horizon in-
dicate that this growth will be con-
tinuous in the future. Additional
wires in the new cable will take care
of this growth for a long period.
While the greater demands for tele-
phone service are a large factor in the
placing of the new cable, the present
construction will also enable the Tele-
phone Company to replace the open
wire lines and the older cables now
in use. In the section between Car-
negie and McDonald the present cable,
which has been in use for several
years, will be taken down and re-
placed. While the older cable is still
able to adequately serve its purpose
the time is not far off where a contin-
uation of the old lines might cause a
let-down in the high standard of Bell
telephone service and a consequent in-
convenience to telephone subscribers.
The open teléphone lines between
McDonald and Burgettstown also
have about reached their capacity. It
is felt by telephone officials that cable
is preferable in this section and the
old lines are accordingly being re-
moved and replaced by the new con-
struction. Cable will protect the tele-
phone lines from the ‘effects of the
many high-tension electric wires in
the area and is a more substantial
insurance against injury to the tele-
phone plant from storm causes.
H. L. Miller, the construction fore-
man who is in charge of the work
for the Telephone Company, estimates
that about 4000 miles of toll wire
C ” © re
these wires from Pittsburgh to points
Upper—DBringing up the
cable reels by tractor
between Carnegie and #
McDonald. £ ;
8
hotly
he
Ey
and 2000 miles of wire connecting
with subseribers’ telephones will be
placed. This is sufficient to build a
complete single line from Pittsburgh
to San Francisco and back again, with
enough left over to run another com-
plete circuit across the state to Phila-
delphia. While the amount of copper
alone in this work is enough to make
this one of the premier construction
jobs of the year, the difficulties en-
countered daily are sufficient to raise
it to the rank of an outstanding en-
gineering accomplishment.
In general the new cable will fol-
low the route of the P. C. C, and S. L.
Railroad. In places where right-of-
way privileges are secured in appro-
priate places a little off the main road
and where the lines can be better pro-
tected by avoiding burning culm
banks or high-tension wires, detours
are being made.
New poles are being transported
and delivered by teams while the cable
reels are being transported by motor
tractors. These motor tractors are
very’ powerful and are able to carry
heavy loads across broken ground
that might be impassable by any other
means. All deliveries of material are
being handled just so far in advance
of the work to maintain steady prog-
ress and to insure its being carefully
cared for.
About sixty-five per cent of the
‘work is already finished. While the
job: was not started until toward the
end of last ‘April it is planned to have
it completed by January of 1928. The
towns on the route of the cable in-
clude Carnegie, Ewingsville, Walkers
Mills, Rennerdale, Oakdale, Nobles-
town, Sturgeon, McDonald and Bur-
/
gettstown.
up some now, mother,” he :aid, pull-
ing his chair up to the table. It did
not occur to him that his mother
might be in a bondage of spirit, a
bondage more confining than that
from which he had freed her.
“I believe I'll drive over to Mol-
ville this afternoon.” Dan pushed
back his chair and went to the door.
“It looks as if this fine weather might
break before long. Anybody want to
go?”
“When I get baby to sleep I'm go-
ing to take a nap myself,” said his
wife. “I’ve hardly closed my eyes
for three nights. Maybe if you'd put
him in his coach, mother, and wheel
his around the yard a little he'd drop
off.” !
After Rita had gone into her room
and closed the door, the grandmother
stood doubtfully gazing at the grey
carriage standing a little distance:
from the house, in the cool shade of
a great pine tree.
“It seems so lonesome out there for
him, Of course he's safe enough.
Nothing can get into him and he can’t
get out of the coach. His mother said
she could hear him from the window.”
She finally decided to throw herself
down in the hammock on the porch,
meaning to keep the precious sleeper
in- sight. But the day was breath-
lessly hot, and her nights, too had
been disturbed. The song of the wren
in the pine trees, the contented chirp-
ing from the chicken coops, and the
droning of insects, soon became. a
jumble of confused sound, and with-
out meaning to, she fell asleep.
She woke to find a sharp breeze
stirring the vines above her head. And
the sky, so cloudless a few minutes
before—or was it hours—had grown
dark and tlreatening.
More from habit than from any con-
scious plan, she went through the
house to the west window, which was
her lookout. An inky black curtain,
with ragged edges, was slowly clos-
ing over that part of the horizon
within her range. The branches of
the tall trees behind the house had
begun to lash one anuther violently.
The tasseled corn-tops in the near-by
fields swayed and twisted until they
looked like creamy surf on a cast,
green sea. Suddenly a few big drops
broke against the screen and splashed
on the sill. Then she remembered the
baby! Was he still outside alone?
A vivid flash startled her, followed
by a succession of sharp peals that
rattled the windows. Ordinarily such
conditions would have deprived the
old lady of all power of motion, but
now she slammed back the window
and made for the door. She had not
a shadow of doubt that the long ex-
pected tornado had come, and here she
was facing it alone. It would take
time to wake Rita. Heedless of the
blinding fury about her, she rushed
out and straight across to the big
1 brance of the baby, met her
pine tree. Snatching the drowsy baby
from his warm nest, she stumbled
back.
Her daughter-in-law, who had
sprung up with a paralyzing remem-
as,
drenched and panting, she reached the
door. As it slammed after her, a
new, rushing noise above the din, and
a formidable jar shook the house. The
gloom had increased. The windows,
blurred with wavy rivulets, failed to
admit what light there was. Rita,
completely unnerved for once, drew
her mother-in-law down beside her
and held out her hands mechanically
for ne baby. Mrs. Rushton shook her
head.
“What can we do? Shall we go
down to the basement? We can’t
‘stay here!” moaned the younger wom-
an, in the first short lull. i
Mrs. Rushton, with amazing calm-
ness, alternately soothed mother and
baby. “There, there!” she comforted
both, “I have an idea the worst will i
soon be over.”
The uproar had quieted, though it
had not altogether ceased, when Dan, !
dripping and breathless, burst into
the kitchen. His wife clutched his
soggy sleeve.
“O Dan,” she half sobbed, “where
were you?”
He looked round at them all. When
he spoke, his voice held an awed note.
“I stopped down the road, here, in
Patton’s barn,” he said. “Looks like
a little cyclone had gone through here.
I see the corncrib and garage are
both down, and the big pine out there
has”
Rita interrupted with a frightened
gasp.
“Did you know the boy’s carriage
was left out under that tree? It's
crushed as flat as”—He took a stride
toward the baby and buried his face
in the folds of the child’s dress. “I
tell you it took something out of me
to go over there and look in it,” he
said hoarsely, as he raised his head.
He stood up, wiping his forehead.
“Were you frightened ?”” he asked. He
turned with surprise from the white
and shaken Rita, to his mother, be-
ginning to prepare the boby’s food.
“Were you frightened, mother?” he
questioned again.
Mrs. Rushton turned from the
stove, the baby deftly turned under
her left arm. There was a tranquil
light, a sort of ecstacy on her face.
“Frightened ?” she repeated almost
absently. “A little,” she answered.
“Rita was some upset, too. It took
her so sudden, you see. But I was
all right when I knew baby was safe.”
She could not expect these others
to understand her new freedom.
They could not know that it was now
pla‘n to her why she had been myste-
riously led to leave Leotie and come
here; that an all-wise Providence had
known all along that someone else’s
man race.
baby would have need of her. The
dreaded Nemesis has come—and
spared her. She would never fear it!
again. i
She laid her grandson in his crib
and began to busy herself about sup-
per. Rita came silently to help, he: |
eyes following her mother-in-law with
a wondering respect.—Exchange.
————— ee ert
Sees Future as Age of Machines
London—Ballrooms and night club ,
habitues of the future will enjoy their
dancing sitting down, thinks Prof. A.
M. Low, who has been taking a scien-
tific peek into the future of the ha-
There will be little use for legs or
arms, he contends, because in the age
of the future almost everything will be
done by machinery. It will be a pill
age, when all foods will be concentrat-
ed and a meal will go down with one
gulp.
“In the distant future, when constant
disuse will have atrophied our legs
we shall probably take our daneing
sitting quietly, while drugs and revolv-
ing lights give us all the sensations
of rhythm without the stuffy atmos-
phere of the ballroom and the cafes,”
Professor Low asserts.
The minute research of modern
scientists enables them to realize the
remarkable part played by rhyth-
mical motion in the universe, he says.
“Present-day dancing is merely the
result of wartime hysteria,” avers the
professor. “Women, in particular, are
generally more or less hysterical at
the end of a dance which has excited
them and chased the cares of life into
oblivion.
“This period will pass, and we shall
find that more and more intoxicating
effects, such as sweet perfumes, oscil-
lating floors and curious foods will be
necessary before we can enjoy rhythm.
“I look forward to the time when it
will be possible to broadcast sensa-
tions direct to the mind.”
Wood Chopping Replaces Golf on
Chicago Links.
Woodchopping has been substituted
for golf by a group of Chicago busi-
ness men and educators. With axes
over their shoulders, they sally forth
each week-end to match their skill
against each other.
They count strokes, as they slash
through logs, just as the strokes are
counted in golf. They say an after-
noon of chopping is far superior as a
recreation to playing 18 holes of golf.
To win a game of woodchopping,
one must cut through a certain type
and size of log with fewer strokes
than his opponent.
——The “Watchman” is the most
readable paper published. Try it.
FARM NOTES.
Alfalfa hay is the biggest aid there
is in reducing the cost of making beef
—Save the machinery. Put away
all machinery not in use after oiling
and greasing to prevent rust. Make:
note of all needed repairs.
Genuine crude petroleum, just as it:
comes from the oil well and before it.
has been processed, is the most effec~
tive oil for treatment of hog lice and
mange.
—Roosters are confined or sold as
soon as the breeding season is past.
Hens that ars not mated lay as good,
and the quality of the eggs is im~
proved.
A clean droppings board is neces-
sary if the eggs are to be kept clean.
Some poultry owners now use a screen
that keeps the fowl off the drop-
pings board during the day.
—Mulch the Strawberries as soon
as the ground becomes frozen. Mulch
the strawberry bed with clean wheat,
oat or buckwheat straw, putting three
or four inches of straw all over the
TOW,
—Do not mix disease with milk. No
person affected with any contagious
disease shold be allowed to have any-
thing to do with the handling of milk,
say Pensylvania State College dairy
specialists.
—Thin the Woodlot. The ring of the
axe and the whine of the saw will
soon be heard in many woodlots. This
is the chance to thin the woodlot and
at the same time get a good sup-
ply of firewood. ; i
—Exposure Weakens Ladders. See
that the apple picking ladders are un-
der cover. If these are made of light
wood, as they should be, one winter's
exposure may weaken them enough to
make them unsafe.
While chickens will sand neglect
and sometimes do fairly well under
primitive conditions in warm weather,
it is very important to provide proper
housing if you are going to make the
chicken business pay in winter.
—Feed Laying Ration. Many farm-
ers cut down the normal egg produc-
tion of their poultry flock because of
the fear of getting the birds too fat.
No hen can be too fat to lay if fed
a laying mash and good clean scratch
grain. : ‘
—Cure Seed Corn. Is your seed corn
safe from Jack Frost’s damaging in-
fluence? Keep it hanging in a dry,
warm place where there is good cir-
culation of air until it is thoroughly
dry and past all danger of freezing
or molding.
Care should be taken not to feed
the birds too much during the early
part of the fattening period. For the
first few days of the diet feed lightly
three times a day. For the rest of
the period give the birds all they will
eat three times a day but do not leave
it before them. A 4-pound cockerel
should add a pound in two weeks.
Four pounds of grain ration may pro-
duce a pound gain.
»=~Early autumn: is the time poultry
raisers will usually find it advantage-
ous to fatten and dispose of surplus
cockerels as well as early hatched
pullets of a quality not desired in the:
flock of winter layers. Market poultry
prices are usually highest just betore
Thanksgiving and Christmas. Another
advantage in selling surplus stock
fairly early in the season is found in
the saving of considerable food ma-
terial.
—Dr. M. A. Jull, pouitry husband-
man, United States Department of
Agriculture, recommends as a fatten-
ing ration a soft mash, measured by
weight composed of corn, 4 parts:
oatmeal, 2 parts; middlings, 2 parts;
and beef scrap, 1 part. The ground
grain should be mixed thoroughly and
moistened with sour skim milk or but-
termilk. Milk is excellent in fatten-
ing mixtures and about 2 pounds, or
a quart of milk is used to each pound
of mash. :
‘Experienced fatteners sometimes
keep poultry on the fattening feed for
as long as three weeks; but in most
commercial fattening plants the birds
are fattened for from 7 to 10 days.
There is often a difference of 5 cents
a pound between the market price of
thin and plump birde. However, far-
mers in many parts of the country
may not find such’ advantageous mar--
keting opportunities and the prices
received may not pay for the expense
and bother of fattening the birds. In
such cases it may prove wisest to sell’
direct with no attempt to fatten the
fowls. Many such birds are bought at
the markets by fatteners and condi--
tioned and fattened for resale.
The causes of most early deaths in
live stock fall into two general clas--
ses:
1. Those capable of considerable
reduction, chiefly through eradication
of diseases among the mature stock,
proper hygiene, sanitary isolation, and
medical treatment. In this class are
tuberculosis, acute respiratory dis-
eases, certain acute contagious dis-
eases, and some diseases caused by
animal parasites.
2. Those capable of very great re--
duction through proper feeding, care:
and sanitation, such as acute diges-
tive diseases, goiter trouble, prema-
turity (if not extreme), and many
forms of animal parasitism.
Besides the two important classes
mentioned there are some other condi-
tions, such as malformation, extreme:
feebleness or extreme prematurity,
and certain accidents during birth.
These conditions are little influenced
by treatment, but represent a very-
small proportion to total loss.
—In removing silage from the silo,
only enough is thrown down for im-
mediate needs and this is taken in
thin layers over the entire surface, the:
aim being to allow as little as possible
to become spoiled by exposure to the:
air. The surface must be left smooth
and compact, with the center slightly
higher than the sides. If the corn
was not well distributed in the silo
some care needs to be exercised in
mixing the silage on removal to keep
the quality uniform and avoid danger:
of overfeeding.