Demon lan.
cc —
Bellefonte, Pa., February 21, 1930.
BULGING SHIRT FRONT
Celia Agnew paused in the act of
applying a feathery pink powder-
puff to her already powdery-white
neck and turned on the bench before
her dressing table to face her twin
sister.
“For goodness’
look like a wreck!”
“I am,” agreed Christine, pulling a
felt hat from her tawny bobbed hair,
“Played eighteen holes this after-
noon with Bobby Tate while Leigh
sat on the club veranda and sulked.
sake, Chris, you
Looked like a thunder cloud every i
time we came near. When I slid in
the creek trying to rescue my last
flogter,” displaying a stained white
shoe, “he wouldn't wait until I could
dry my foot and we didn’t speak all
the way home.”
Celia carefully powdered her slen-
der white neck. With long white fin-
gers she expertly rearranged her ex-
quisitely marcelled hair in coils on
the back of her head, Christine,
from the depths of an easy-chair, a
brown muscular hand supporting her
head, watched her. ;
“Why all the fussing? New man?”
Celia shrugged her shoulders. “I
am not fussing. Sallie Larkins is
having an engineer from Dave’s com-
pany up for dinner tonight and ask-
ed me to help entertain him. Cannot
imagine anything I can do—probably
won't speak the same language.”
“Sounds interesting to me. I'm
just sick of these city society men.
If Leigh would put on a pair of ov-
eralls and change an automobile tire
instead of calling a service wagon—
do a man’s work—all dressed up like
a Christmas tree, smoking cigarettes
in an amber holder! Why in the
world he didn’t pick you instead of
me on which to lavish his affections
and the Chiswell fortune I can’t
imagine. You were made for each
other, He says golf is a deadly bore,
but will play bridge a whole after-
noon or sit doing nothing! I like a
man’s man.”
Celia slipped into a dress of a sea-
foam green chiffon with a touch of
silver. Her twin looked up at her
admiringly.
“You'll make the engineer's eyes
stick out in that creation, my dear,
although he may be accustomed to
beautiful scenery. Can you imagine
me—in that?”
“Really, Chris, I do wish you would
try to improve your appearance be-
fore Leigh’s mother returns from
abroad. Go down to Madame Gen-
ey’s and have her take off some of
those freckles and tan.”
“I will—not! Love me—love my
complexion. I know you would like
me to be more of a twin, Cele, but
I'd die if I led your life. Bridge, teas,
operas, beauty parlors—Ooooh! Be-
sides, father says there should be a
boy in this team and he'd be fright-
fully disappointed if I failed to play
the part. What's the new man’s
name?”
“I don’t know, although Sallie
mentioned it. All I know is that he
has been building some kind of a
bridge over a pass in the Rockies the
last year and they are sending him
to South America in the fall on a |
similar job. Sallie mentioned going
to the opera this evening. I do hope
we won't see the Montgomerys there.
Arnold asked me to accompany him
and his mother, but I just couldn't
disappoint Sallie.
“Cele, be yourself,” reproved her
sister. “And I suppose you'll be add-
ing his name to your notched stick
along with Lansing Loomis and the
Honorable Richard Eaton and that
Major Somebody from Washington,
who carried a cane, and Senator
Evan’s brother and poor Dick Man-
tony-—-that was scandalous, Cele—
and Theodore Blaisdell.”
“Chris, don’t be ridiculous. Please
call Thomas and tell him I want the
car at once, Promised Sallie IT would
be there at 6 and it is after 10 now.”
Celia looked up into brown eyes
beneath a shock of unruly brown
hair. Then down, to a white expanse
of bulging shirtfront! Every time
the wearer moved it bulged a bit
more and then relaxed into place.
When je sat down beside her, it pro-
truded to an alarming degree. Cer-
tainly Mr. Moore did not wear even-
ing clothes very graciously. She
compared him with the immaculate
Dave Larkins, who leaned against the
fireplace; with the elegant Leighton
Chiswell, who so openly adored her
twin sister; with Lansing Loomis, the
Honorable Richard Eaton, poor Dick
Manton, the fastidious Arnold Mont-
gomery, the notched stick, and then
she came back with a start. The
man beside her was speaking in a
soft drawl, leaning forward with el-
bows on his knees, his big brown
hands dangling awkwardly from his
cuffs. :
=“I reckon you have never camped
in all your life, Miss Agnew.”
“Never!” she responded promptly.
“I am afraid I would make a poor
camper, Mr. Moore. I hate bugs and
being uncomfortable.”
Dave Larkins laughed.
“I'd like to see Cele in a tent.
Christine—that is Miss Agnew’s twin
sister, Bart—would make a corking
good camper. A regular sport, Chris
is.
“I'd like to meet your sister,”
drawled Bartlett Moore. “I like folks
who love the out-of-doors, the feel of
the sun and wind.”
“Bart was telling us before you
came, Cele, how they camped on the
job in the Rockies, days when they
wouldn't see a soul but the construc-
tion gang. Way up on the mountain-
side with a trout stream close by,
could hear the animals howl through
the night. Sounds corking to me.”
“It’s living!” declared the guest
emphatically. “I actually pity you
city people who know nothing but
the artificial indoor life.
Celia arched her brows and titled
her pretty head. Arnold Montgom-
ery had threatened to kiss her when
she did that.
“Oh, T am quite sure, Mr. Moore,
that we do not need your sympathy.
"» Ee
! things in life. We have music! Art!
Physical comforts.”
| He laughed tolerantly, displaying
unusually white teeth. “Music?” he
queried. “What could be more won-
! derful than the music of water com-
ring down over mossy rocks in a
' mountain wilderness or the song of
the birds at dawn? Did you ever
hear a breeze whispering up a can-
yon? Or the rustle of trees in a
night wind? And art! Is there a
greater artist—anywhere—than Na-
|[ture? Did ever an artist actually
succeed in portraying Nature's true
colors on a canvas? Did you ever
see the real blue of the sea, the
creaminess of the clouds, the golden
and scarlet tints of foliage after a
frost, the azure colors of the sky at
dawn or the tints of a sunset actual-
y produced in their real beauty—by
man? Why, my dear girl, all down
through the generations our great
masters have tried to reproduce the
songs and sounds of Nature on their
instruments; have tried to reproduce
her pictures on their canvases, and
you say you have art! Music! The
finer things in life!”
He smiled down at her as he ran
his brown fingers through his hair.
“And as for physical comforts, there
was never a softer bed than balsam
| boughs and blankets; that is, if you
know how to make it up. I grant
you it takes practice. And the smell
of coffee and bacon on keen morning
air, the taste of mountain trout fried
over an open fire.”
Sallie clapped her hands. “That
is splendid, Mr, Moore. Dave, do get
an outdoor job and take me along.”
At dinner the two men talked of
mileage, dynamiting processes, rock
formation, steel girders and quoted
figures. Sallie and Celia discussed
the last dinner-dance at the country
club, the new method of bridge scor-
ing, the Rigley divorce, the second
Mrs. Darlington and Betty Blaine’s
departure for Europe.
Every time Mr. Moore bent to
meet his fork his short front crack-
led—bulged!
The next morning Christine came
into her sister’s room and curled her-
self on the foot of the bed.
“Tell me about the engineer, Cele,”
she demanded.
Celia sat up with her arm about
her knees. She had not slept well
and was cross.
“Just what I expected. Really, I
am surprised at Sallie. The men
talked engineering jobs all through
dinner—we just didn’t exist for them.
And, oh, Chris! You should see Mr.
Moore’s shirtfront. It bulges! He
actually reminded me of that old
pouter pigeon we had on grandfath-
er's farm when we were small. And
that is not all,” she added tragically.
“We met the Montgomerys ‘in the
foyer of the opera house and Arnold
just looked Mr. Moore over and turn-
ed to me—and smiled! I was morti-
fied to death!”
“Huh!” grunted Christine. “And
he professes to be a gentleman, A
MONTGOMERY! Did the engineer
go to sleep during the opera ?”
Celia was a bit more condescing.
i “No, he didn’t. He knew the score
| perfectly. Told me a lot about it I
didn’t know, and said Jerbori was at
her best. Evidently had heard her
many times before.”
i “Sounds interesting to me,” said
| Christine reflectively. “I'd like to
meet him. Did you invite him up?”
| Celia yawned and then reached
over for an orange-colored robe on
the chair beside her bed.
“I really had to, Chris. I owe it to
| Sallie and Dave, you know. They are
coming for dinner on Thursday. We'll
(have Leigh, too. Father will enjoy
jit. I know. I made it understood
(it would be strictly informal. Dave
{and Mr. Moore will come up direct
| from the office. Sallie and I are go-
ing to Marion's bridge-tea that after-
jnoon. Besides, to get this man be-
i side Leigh in evening clothes.”
| “Evening clothes,” said Christine
| derisively, “Who cares for clothes?
(It's who wears them that counts
{with me. Clothes—bah! “Stone walls
| do not a prison make—nor do clothes
make a man!”
Celia sat on the beach in the shade
of a big striped unbrella in front of
| cottage. Her bathing
jsuit was dry, as was Leigh Chis.
| well’s, who sprawled in the sand be-
{side her. Mr. Agnew drowsed over
12 newspaper on the veranda. Sallie
i Larkin had gone to the station to
, meet Dave, and out in the lake, near
the diving raft, Christine and Bar-
lett Moore were enjoying their after-
‘noon swim.
| “Chris swims splendidly, doesn’t
(She ?” remarked Leigh as he watch-
led the scarlet cap disappear and re-
|-appear over the blue of the lake.
| “Chris does everything well, doesn’t
she ?”
| Celia nodded abstractedly, burrow-
1
ithe Agnew
| sand.
| “Did she tell you that I’
i mo Street with Uncle
“No! Reall oin, to
, Leigh?” ¥.1 going
i “Every one should be busy, doing
| something worth while, Cele. Chris
has ragged me a lot lately about be-
(ing idle. Doesn't seem to think that
| taking care of mother’s affairs— the
estate and all that-—is enough. She
i says she likes people who do some.
[thing! Td like to go to Europe be-
fore I knuckle down to a job, though.
| Suggested to Chris last night that
| we be married in October and have
| three months in Europe.
{been over since I was in the army
| and would like to see it again. Chris
wouldn’t promise, but-—She’s a dy-
| namic piece of humanity, and if it
will make her happy I'm going to
work like the devil. I need Chris.
Don’t say anything, Cele, but I'm
taking up golf. Play every day with
the pro at the club untii T get the
| swing of it. She has certainly en-
joyed Moore this summer, and he
says she plays one of the best games
he has ever seen played, Mother
has given me the place down on Long
Island and I'm going to give Chris
a riding horse for her birthday. We'll
ride a lot down there. Look at her,
Cele! That dive was as good as any
STORY NO 3
professional swimmer’s. By George!
I'm glad, Leigh, for you. I am sure
m going
Adam?”
work,
{We have and appreciate the finer 'you and Chris will be very happy.
ing her hand deep into the white |
Haven't |
“And how about you, Cele?”
“Oh, father and I will keep house
and travel a bit.” - ih
“How about Montgomery ?" ;
Celia sat up, her “arms about her
knees, * her eyes fixed on the two
swimmers, now sitting on the diving
raft. They could hear Christine
laugh.
“Well, I haven't seen much of Ar-
nold since we came to the lake. He
is so very busy, you know, and his
mother demands a great deal of his
time. He asked me to accompany
them on a coast trip on their yacht
this month, but father had asked the
Larkins and Mr. Moore up here, and |
I couldn't leave all the entertaining
for Chris to do. Father is terribly
taken with Mr. Moore. Wants him
to leave Dave's company and come
in with him.”
“You can’t help but like Moore,
Cele. I don’t blame Chris for enjoy-
ing his company. He swims well,
too, doesn’t he?”
Celia stood up and pulled the
bright green cap over her golden
hair. She buckled it firmly beneath
her chin and turned toward the lake,
I'm going out to the raft, Leigh.
Won't you come along?”
“Thanks, no. The sun is more
friendly to me than the cold water.
I'll have a swim when Chris comes in,
but now. You might tell her that
I'm waiting, if you will.”
Celia struck out bravely. She went
in daily, but did not swim any great
distances. But now she wanted to
sit on the raft beside Chris and her
companion. So Leigh was going to
work, to please Chris. To show her
he could do something worth while.
He was: playing golf, and they would
ride horseback. He was going to
show Chris how much he loved her
by doing the things she liked to do.
She looked ahead at the raft. It
Seemed very far away. She was get-
ting tired. She floated on her back
for a moment and then started off
again. She was just halfway and she
could not turn back. She must go
on. She wanted to swim like Chris-
tine did, she wanted to sit in the sun
on the diving raft, Her arms were
rebelling, and then the muscle in her
right leg began to stiffen. She caught
the flash of Christine’s scarlet cap
bobbing above the water. Moore was
standing on the edge of the raft
ready to dive. Celia called frantical-
ly once, twice, she waved her arm.
She tried to remember all that had
been taught her by the swimming in-
structor years before, she called
again and there was an answering
call; a silver flash of spray as
Moore's arm cut through the water.
She relaxed, her head against his
chest, as he started to swim on his
back toward the raft. She had not
spoken.
“I am sorry—I—troubled you.
thought I—could make it.”
“You should—never have tried—
it! Don’t—be so foolish again!”
And then Christine’s eager voice
with a sob in it; Christine helping
her to the raft; Christine’s brown
arms holding her close.
“Cele, my beautiful little sister,
why did you ever do it? Of all the
tomfool stunts, Cele, why!
might have never got here. Cele!”
“Well, I did get here.” Cele tried
to laugh, but her voice trembled.
“Yes, thanks to Bart. I didn’t ev-
en hear you call. I'm going ashore
for a boat to take you in, you old
tenderfoot. Cele, don’t you—ever—
try such—a stunt again. Promise!”
She was sitting on the raft in the
sun—alone with Bart Moore. He was
beside her, his eyes fixed on Chris-
tine, who was swimming rapidly tow-
ard the
Leighton Chiswell sprawled
under a striped umbrella,
looked at her companion.
“It’s nice to be out here, isn’t it?”
“Deucedly hot. I'm afraid you will
get sunburned.”
“I don’t care if I do. I'm not afraid
of tan—and freckles. They go with
summer and the out-of-doors.”
He turned toward her. “Why did
you ever try to swim out here—
alone?” he asked abruptly.
“Because—I wanted to come.
didn’t think it was so far.”
“Will you promise you'll never—
do it again?”
“What difference would it make
to—you?” her breath caught on the
last word.
“It makes a lot of difference, Cele.
You are so little and frail, will you
promise ?”’
“Wouldn't you like me better, if I
did the things Chris does?” Celia
could not believe it was her voice
saying these words.
“I-—couldn’t like you better than I
do, honey, but you are so little, I am
I
lazily
Celia
afraid, I love you so much, I am go.
ing to give up the chance to go to
South America if you want me to,
Cele.”
“I don’t want you to give up the
chance to go to South America. IT
don’t want you to stay here, I want
you to live your life.”
“Oh, I thought you cared.”
“I care so much that I want to go
to South America with you, Bart, To
show you I can live your life, be a
good sport. I don’t care what we
do, so long as I am with you.”
A big brown hand closed over hers.
‘Honey, why, I never thought, Oh,
I felt like such a big clodhopper, so
awkward, when you were around. I
never once thought.”
“And I felt so weak and
petent, and so colorless. Bart, I
thought you cared for Chris—until
you put your arms around. me—out
there in the water.”
“And you care enough—
She nodded happily. “We'll have
a double wedding in October. Leigh
and Chris.”
“October,” he repeated slowly.
“But, honey, if I go to South Ameri-
ca, if we go, I mean, we must leave
on September 8. We sail on Sep-
tember 11.”
“September 8-—two weeks away. I
can be ready, Bart. I don’t mind not
having a big wedding, as Chris and
Leigh will have. I think they are
rather foolish, don’t you? And Tl
ask Chris for all her sports clothes
and I will give her my party dresses.
She will need them more. than I will,
staying here in New York. TI can be
ready, dear, on September 8, And we |
You |
distant beach on which
I
incom- !
"will watch nature's paintings togeth-
ler, hear the symphonies, and we'll
feel. sorry for-the people up here who
{do not know what real living is.”
Celia "Agnew paused ‘in the act of
applying ‘a pink powder-puff~to her
already powdery white nose and
! turned on the bench before her dress.
‘ing table to face her twin sister.
| Christine wore a chiffon frock of cor.
jal pink, and Madame Geney had
} skillfully covered the summer tan and
: freckles for the occasion.
“Behold, thy bridesmaid!” she made
a low curtsey. “And the bridegroom
and the best man—await without!
But, oh, Cele! You should see Bart's
shirtfront! It bulges!”
Celia carefully powdered her slen-
der white neck. With deft fingers she
rearranged the exquisitely marcelled
hair in coils on the back of her head.
“Well, what of it, Chris? Clothes!
Who cares for clothes? You know,
Chris, ‘stone walls do not a prison
make,” nor do clothes make a man.
It’s the man—Bart Moore—beneath
that shirtfront that counts with me.”
COLORED LIGHT SIGNALS
TO GUIDE PLANES.
Flashing lights spelling messages
to aviators in the air and comprising
a system as complete as the block
signal systems used by railroad com-
panies, will control all airplanes op-
erating from the new Western Air
Express Airport on Valley Boule-
vard, near Alhambra, Cal. according
to an announcement made by C.-C.
Cole, superintendent of operators for
the company,
i The lights are to be operated by
electricity from a glass tower atop
the passenger depot, which is now
nearing completion. From this tow-
er, dispatchers equipped with binocu-
lars will be able to watch the sur-
rounding horizon for fifty miles or
more.
Every departing plane will be
moved to the depot line where it will
be halted by a red light. When the
ship is loaded and ready to leave the
depot a green light will be flashed.
The plane will then taxi to the end
of the take-off runway where it will
again face a red light, and it will re-
main stationary until the dispatcher
flashes a green light, showing that
all is clear.
There will also be a direct tele-
phone from the end of the runway
pilot may talk to the dispatcher if
there is any unusual delay.
Incoming planes will be controlled
by a dot and dash system of flashed
signals. These signals will be given
from the top of the tower and will
be flashed steadily until the pilot
has signaled his understanding of
them. One push of a button will
keep the signals going until the re.
ply has been received. If two planes
approach the field at the same time,
the code signals will designate which
ship shall make the first landing and
the second plane must remain in the
air until it has been signaled that all
is clear.
The new passenger depot is to be
a four-story structure. The lower
restaurant,
mail postoffice.
be devoted to
radio operators and the dispatchers.
The airport has already been im-
proved with a hexagon hangar, with
54,000 square feet of floor space, and
a second hangar of 35,000 feet of
floor space. For the convenience of
passengers, contracts have been let
for the erection of two garages, each
with 13,500 square feet of floor space.
There will also be open air parking
space for 300. automobiles.
GARAGE DOORS NOW OPEN
A pull on a knob on the instru-
ment board of your automobile and
your garage door opens, Drive
Another pull on the little dash board
knob and the door swings closed be-
hind you. All done by radio.
While press dispatches from
Switzerland were telling of an in-
vention to open and close garage
doors by radio, discovery was made
at the plant of the Barber-Colman
yond the stage of experiment in the
‘United States, the equipment having
passed the experimental stage and
practical use having already been
made of the development.
Automatic operation of garage
| doorsby radio is possible by a mech-
anism within the garage and on
! the dashboard of the automobile.
Coded signals make it private.
i Those cars which are to control a
{given door broadcast a particular
| series of impulses—a radio key—
j which is recognized by that door
i alone. 3
| Thus one may broadcast signals at
| his neighbor's garage but the doors
| will not move. Substitute the neigh-
!bor's car, which sends the correct
' signal and immediately the door will
| respond.
| The operating mechanism holds
. the door open and does not allow the
wind to blow it shut. In like manner,
i when the door is closed it is secure-
ly locked by the mechanism—a lock-
ing arrangement which cannot be
. picked.
The radio control apparatus con-
sists of a small transmitter in the
car and a receiver in the garage.
The transmitter in the car is incon-
spicuously mounted that only a small
! knob on the instrument board shows.
There is an antenna on the bottom
of the car and a receiving antenna
buried in the driveway.
' The radio control apparatus is
ready for operation at all times.
Master-code combinations are made
possible so that, for instance the ex-
| ecutives of a factory may all open
the factory and also open their own
garage at home but not each others.
The Barber-Colman Co., has been
manufacturing textile machinery in
Rockville, Tl, Framingham, Mass,
and other places and the genius of
| its engineers has brought another
| product in the radio garage door.
—Subscribe for the Watchman.
BY RADIO DEVICE IN AUTO |
company here that the radio closing |
and opening of garage doors was be- |
shadows lengthen. Buyers have been
to the dispatcher’s office so that the |
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floor is to house the waiting-room, | the sunburn vogue.
baggage-room and air- | ante”
The second floor will damsel will wear a tan, of course,
offices for operation jbut the fair girl will
officials. The two upper floors will be | Pearly complexion even
an enclosed tower accommodating the | to take to veils and sunbonnets as
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ow N ix
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
- < Daily Thought.
When people get real sin-sick, there is
ho need of coaxing them to hold up their
hands for prayer.
—The American woman has won
her revolt against French fashion
dictation, and the short skirt will
remain.
The test of strength resulted in a
compromise, with the moral victory
going to America. As at London,
in the limitation of armaments the
delegates are seeking a compromise
against French insistence on certain
methods, so in the ‘skirt limitation
debate of Paris a compromise was
effected, but just enough of one to
save the French from utter rout.
Legs will continue to be shown
with the newest Paris gowns, ex-
cept in the evening. In the morning
and afternoon sun the legs will
shine, but not even an inch of
stocking must peep from evening
dresses. ;
Enough dressmakers’ expositions
of summer models have now been
shown to figure that the average
sports dress will be 15 inches from
the floor; afternoon and tea gowns
from 13 to 14 inches, while evening
gowns must brush the instep.
One prominent dressmaker solved
the problem by showing dresses in
six lengths for wearing around the
clock, gradually lengthening as the
1
extremely wary, however, recalling |
that earlier this winter they went |
too far in dress lengths and the
American women refused to buy,
Thereis no longer any question of |
who sways the fashions of the world. |
Paris still is undoubtedly the dress- '
maker to the world, but Paris cuts
as the American woman dictates. |
Knees will be covered, but calves |
remain unhampered—and that rep- |
resents a purely American victory. |
Moreover, dressmakers say they!
are buying twice as many mid- |
length afternoon gowns as full |
length evening gowns, and there |
appeared some doubt, except among |
the ultra-fashionable, of the extent |
to which the average American |
woman will cover her legs com- |
pletely at night. i
Lucien Lelong voiced the revised
opinion of French dressmakers when
he said:
"The dress length and waist line
should depend on the type of gown
and the physical characteristics of
the wearer. I should say 12 inches
from the floor would be conserative '
for afteroon wear, 14 to 15 for
sport and ankle length for evening.
The waist line should be as near
normal as possible.” |
A hasty resume of collections so
far exhibited showed a general
agreement to keep dresses short.
The following measurements pre-
dominated among leading dressmak-
ers for day wear: Drecollbeer, 13
inches; Germaine Leconte, 13; Mar-
chel Rochas, 13; Lelong, 12.
—The powers that direct fashion
trends have decreed the death of
The 1930 “ele-
will be herself. The dark
protect her |
if she has |
her 1830 predecessors did. It is to
be a time of much more individuali-
ty among women than when all the
beaches were crowded with bru- |
nettes. |
As fashionable colors are naturally |
designed to set off fashionable com.
plexions, this change of skin vitally
affects the 1930 sartorial color
chart.
Few, if any, crude colors will be
used this year. Rather, colors will
often be toned with their own com.
plementaries; for example, blue and
orange will be mixed to produce
turquoise and peacock tones with a
much more lively effect than the
grayed pastels.
Blue always accompanies essen-
tially feminine fashion epochs—as
great painters have chosen it for
the mantle of the Madonna as a
symbol of purity and spirituality—
and it is coming back strongly into
the 1930 mode. Navy blue will be
one of the leading colors for even-
ing as well as for morning and af.
ternoon costumes. Then there are
violet blues, and grayed-violet blues,
and green blues; lapis-lazuli, peacock
turquoise and robin’s egg,
—The well-coiffured mother and
daughter of 1930 were presented at !
the convention of the National Hair- |
dressers’ and Cosmetologists’ Asso- |
ciation. |
Both had bobbed hair, the moth- |
er's rather long on the side and
close at the back, making it difficult
to ascertain from a front view
whether the hair was long or short.
Daughter’s hair was shoulder-
length, soft-waved with ringlets
curling here and there and a coil
at the nape of the neck caught up in
little puffs—one of several styles
with which youth can experiment.
“Older women are keeping their
Hair short in the hope of retaining
the illusion of youth,” observed one
coiffeur, “but youth is daring and can
afford to be picturesque, coy, quaint,
or any other mood which it chooses
to express.” |
This hairdresser said he advised
clients against dying hair and pre-
dicted wigs will have a real place,
on American feminine heads within
a few years. “No one is fooled any-'
way,” he added |
The youthful sleekly bobbed hair
of 1930 may be parted any way—
diagonally, zig-zag, right or left or
middle. |
Nut Bread.—One and a half cup-
fuls of milk, one egg, one cupful of
granulated sugar, three cupfuls of
flour, three teaspoonsful of baking
powder and one cupful of walnut |
meats (chopped.) Mix these ingre- |
dients-—-the egg need not be beaten
in this instance-—and place ina loaf
pan. Allow to stand for half an
hour before placing in a slow oven
to bake for an hour.
nl sie p
—If you want reliable news read
the Watchman.
FARM NOTES.
—In buying and storing apples
for winter use it is: safe ~to-figire
on about 10 ‘applés a day for a
family of five. R. J. Barnett,
horticulturist of the Kansas station,
says that a family supply should
amount to about two apples per
person each day. One of these
could well be eaten fresh and the
other cooked.
—Experimental work at several
stations as well as the practical ex-
perience of a large number of poul-
try keepers prove that hens do mot
need to hunt in the litter for their
feed in order to lay well. More
and more people are feeding the
whole and cracked grain to the
poultry in troughs to keep it clean-
er, than it would be if scattered in
the litter.
Litter is highly desirable in a
poultry house during the time that
the flock is kept confined, but its
virtue is in keeping the feed cleaner,
the floor drier and more easily
cleaned, and the house warmer than
when no litter is used, and not to
furnish a place to hide the grain
feed. Some grain will be dropped
in the straw or chaff, or shredded
fodder or peat moss, even though
troughs are used, and the hens will
scratch for it. But deliberately
scattering the grain in the litter,
unless there is no container avail.
able, serves no useful purpose.
—A full dinner pail for the dairy
cow means a full milk pail for the
dairyman.
—Cows like salt. Feed one pound
of saltto every 100 pounds of grain
mixture.
—It takes all winter for a good
cow to recover from the effects ofa
poor. pasture and no grain.
—Cows respond to good treat-
ment, regularity of milking, careful
management, and liberal feeding.
—~Children and young calves may
contract bovine tuberculosis by
drinking the milk from tuberculosis
COWS.
—The tubercular cow should be
removed from the milk supply.
Safety cannot always be guaranteed
by pasturization.
—Cows love water. Next to air,
water is the cheapest food known
for health. Water also aids diges-
tion, manufactures blood, and is
used to secrete milk.
—Cool the cream after skimming
and keep it cool by setting the can
in cold water, changed three times
daily during summer. Stir the cream
at least twice a day and don’t mix
warm cream with cold cream.
—Silage will be plentiful on most
farms although the quality may be
poor in many cases, the specialists
believe. This is due to the early
frosts and the wet weather during
the silo-filling season which caused
a low quality of corn and some
mold in the silage.
-—The farm tractor cannot
operated economically unless it
be
is
{ kept at its optimum load.
—Potassium is a plant food that
is very abundant in some fields and
others are lacking in this element.
—To do a job well and to feel
that you are a necessary part of
the world’s progress—that is success
or at least a large share of it.
—Farm manure has a consider.
able amount of potassium and some
of the good efforts of manure may
be due to the amount of the ele-
ment present.
—
—It has been found that wet soil
does not freeze as easily as dry soil,
and it has also heen proven that
the roots of plants are much less
frost resistant than are the tops.
—On wooded hillsides remove the
trees gradually if there is danger of
erosion. If the trees are all re-
moved at once, gullies will be form.
ed before the grass has time to get
i started.
—In hauling eggs to the market,
do not expose them to the direct
rays of the sun.
—Insist that the buyer pay cash
for your eggs, and that he buy
them on a quality of grade basis.
—A standard incubator which will
successfully hatch chicken eggs
should hatch the turkey eggs with
equal success, Many have heen used
successfully.
—All parts of the incubator
should be thoroughly cleaned and
disinfected. One per cent formalin
can be used. Then level the ma-
chine and regulate carefully to the
' desired temperature.
—Poultry raisers not being for-
tunate to have clover, alfalfa or
other green feed ranges; or those
wishing to plant green feed for
Summer use in their poultry runs,
will find sudan grass very good.
—Male birds with large combs are
most apt to become frosted after
they are wet.
—A lot of poultrymen confuse lice
with mites. Lice stay on the birds
all the time, whereas mites attack
them only at night and hide in
cracks and crevices during the day-
time.
—Often ducks make a very dis-
agreeable puddle around the drink.
ing fountain. A good device to pre-
, vent ducklings from forming such a
puddle, is a wire covered frame.
—Proper housing of the poultry
flock generally pays dividends ir
more eggs and healthier chickens.