Bellefonte, Pa., August 1, 19380.
mr
A MATCH.
If love were what the rose is,
And I were like the leaf,
Our lives would grow together
In sad or singing weather,
Blown fields of flowerful closes,
Green pastures of gray grief;
If love were what the rose is,
And I were like the leaf.
If I were what the words are,
And love were like the tune,
With double sound and single
Delight our lips would mingle,
With kisses glad as birds are
That get sweet rain at noon;
If I were what the words are,
And love were like the tune.
If you were life, my darling,
And I your love were death,
We'd shine and snow together
Ere March made sweet the weather
With daffodil and starling
And hours of fruitful breath:
If you were life, my darling,
And I your love were death.
If you were thrall to sorrow,
And I were page to joy,
‘We'd play for lives and seasons
With loving looks and treasons
And tears of night and morrow
And laughs of maid and boy:
If you were thrall to sorrow,
And I were page to joy.
If you were April's lady,
And I were lord of May,
‘We'd throw with leaves for hours
And draw for days with flowers,
Till day like night were shade
And night were bright like day;
If you were April's lady,
And I were lord in May.
If you were queen of pleasure,
And I were king of pain,
We'd hunt down love together,
Pluck out his flying-feather,
And teach his feet a measure
And find his mouth a rein;
If you were queen of pleasure,
And I were king of pain.
na
THE KEEPER OF THE GATES.
Ellis Island is not a particularly
delightful place at any season of the
year, as those who have visited it
will testify; but when the scorch-
ing sun of late August beats down
on its paved courts and brick walls
it is almost unendurable.
Week after week of intense heat
and the unusual pressure of work
had strained nearly to the breaking
point the nerves of the officers and
attendants, upon whose shoulders
rests the stupendous task of opening
and closing our Eastern gates. The
windows of all the offices are wide
open, snares for any chance breeze
that may stray by, but no wonder-
ers seemed inclined toward that
direction this morning, and doctors,
nurses and orderlies, busy with a
host of small duties that must be
got out of the way before the day's
work could commence, paused often
to wipe their streaming faces.
Even the immigrants themselves,
to whom such a minor matter as a
hot morning is of irrelevant im-
portance when compared to the
great problem that is uppermost in
their minds, quarreled noisily and
wandered restlessly about the build-
ings and yard, seeking the coolest
place.
Chief Surgeon Mahon sat in his
little private office trying desperate-
ly to clear his desk of a mountain-
ous pile of mail before the first pa-
tients should appear,
“A sweltering day, Miss Davis,”
he commented to the spotlessly
dressed nurse who was moving about
silently, sterilizing instruments and
getting out fresh linens.
“Unbearable,” she replied.
as well as heat.”
Through the open windows a
strange variety of sounds floated in.
Only yesterday two great steam-
ships had docked, their steerages
carrying full-capacity loads of men
and women and children from those
countries whose quotas still remain-
ed unfilled. Russians, Syrians, Per-
sians, Czechs, Poles, Italians, Armen-
ians, Jews from The Pale, were all
assembled in the open courts, wait-
ing impatiently for the examina-
tions to begin.
The nurse, her tasks finished,
paused a moment before the window
and gized down into the yard below
her. Two Jewish children were
howling lustily for their mother,
“Noise
man is free and his life is his own,
where any dream may be made to
come true if one only has the cour-
age to fight for it,
A bell sounded somewhere in the
distance and with a reluctant sigh
Miss Davis turned to the duties that
awaited her. Scores of attendants
issued from tle various buildings
and marshalled the waiting naa
women into long lines, seeing that
tickets, bills of lading and numbers
were pinned securely to hats and
dresses.
Two doctors took charge of each
row, those who were evidently in
good health were passed on to the
next inspector; but if there was the
smallest ghost of a suspicion, a
chalk mark was placed on the coat
lapel of the unfortunate person and
he was placed in another line for
the attention of the chief surgeon.
Those who were considered physi- |
cally fit showed their money, an-:
swered the twenty two questions re-
quired by thelaw, and were eligible
for entrance into the United States.
A uniformed orderly knocked at
the door of Doctor Mahon’s office.’
“There's a group ready, sir!” he
announced.
The doctor swept a large pile of
unanswered lettérs into a drawer of
his desk and dismissed the stenog-'
rapher.
“Very well. I am ready,” he said
curtly. i
To all outward appearances the
chief surgeon was pitiless, unfeeling, '
forbidding; his penetrating eyes,
great deep voice and abruptness of
manner always struck terror to the |
hearts of the quaking immigrants.
But in reality, underneath that grim
exterior there was a tender heart
that was torn dozens of times every
day by the tragedies enacted before
him. Very often he wished to show
clemency, or was tempted to stretch
some point in favor of a particular
appealing individual, but he did ‘not
dare. His mission was safe-guard-
ing his country’s interests, and he
looked upon it as a highly sacred
charge. He knew no nationality nor
race; if a man were worth millions
and was suffering from some disease
that might menace the public health
after his admission, the surgeon was
bound by law not to admit him.
He gave Miss Davis the signal and
the first patients were ushered in.
Then the two armed with towels
and antiseptic solutions, rolled back
the eyelids, looking for the dread di-
sease trachoma, or examining for
any other disease the unfortunate
person was suspected of having.
This group was soon disposed of and
a second took its place, Thus the
hard, monotonous day was begun.
After a prolonged period of work
the doctor paused and glanced at
his watch. “Only ten o’clok! he
said, “Never in such along morning
have I accomplished so little!”
The nurse only smiled; ‘she was
getting ready for the next patients
who would be in presently. The
oppressive heat and terrific noise
had almost gotten the better of her
this morning, but there was no re-
ilef in sight she well knew, for the
outer offices were full.
Three persons comprised the next
group the first coming to the doc-
tor's attention being a young Italian
girl with infected eyes. She was |
very timid and afraid, and when!
this strange man in a. white coat
motioned her to a chair she only
stared at him, tightening her grasp
on a huge gayly colored bundle. The
doctor smiled kindly—that was a
language she could understand, and
she smiled back, taking the chair he
pushed forward.
“What is your name?” he asked
as he was making ready for the
examination.
The girl looked up quickly when
he asked the question in her . own
tongue. She had met so very few
since she left the port of Italy who
knew her own tongue. Doctor Ma- |
hon was not an accomplished lin-
guist, but years of contact with the
various old-world languages had giv-
en him a fair working knowledge of
the most important of them. i
“Anna my name,” she replied,
after a moment’s hesitation. !
“Anna what?” i
“Anna Delgrada.”
“And how old are you?” !
“Soon two and twenty.” !
“When is your birthday?” :
“I know not.” ? |
The doctor laughed. “Then how
do you know that you will soon be
twenty-two ?”’ |
The girl shrugged her shoulders.
“When the next year comes I am
one year older!” i
The eye infection proved to be
‘harmless, and after a treatment the
from whom it was very plainly evi- | surgeon passed ‘her on to the in-!
dent, they were lost.
peddlers were engaged in a heated
argument, the subject of which no
one was able to ascertain, but their | eighteen years of age,
louder. | feeble old man,
voices waxed louder and
Three Italian spector.
i
. i
He called for the next patient,
supporting a
stepped forward
He took the ticket pinned to the
old man’s coat and read his identifi-
cation, “Ivan Petroff, accompanied
by his grand daughter Olga.”
Slowly he turned the card over
and penciled on the other side:
“Physical test O. K, Old man liable
to become public charge. Pass girl.”
He explained carefully to Olga
just what he had written and when
ie had finished she uttered a low
cry.
Y What is it?” “What is it?” Her
grandfather rose quickly to his feet.
“Are—are we not to enter?”
Between sobs the girl told him
what had happened. His face grew
suddenly white and he looked as if
‘he could scarcely stand. Miss Davis
quickly helped him back to his
chair. Great tears rolled down his
cheeks as he extended trembling
hands towards the doctor.
“I cannot see you,” he cried.
“But I know you must be a good
man with pity in your heart. I will
not burden your people because I
‘am blind—I can—"
“But you can get along so much
better in your own land,” Doc.
Mahon cut in. “Things will be so
different here, and the old are not
quick to learn.”
The aged immigrant was moaning
pitifully. “Ah, but you do not un-
derstand. I cannot go back! I shall
be killed. And Olga will go into
slavery worse than death!”
The chief surgeon's heart was
touched and he was angry at him-
self because of it. He had been in
the immigration service for years.
Why he was doing it he did mot
know. “I'll think it over again”
he told Olga. “Though don’t hope
too much. Report here just after
lunch.”
He rang the bell for an inspector
to take charge of Olga, who was
now free to enter the new land.
But, understanding what the doctor
was about to do, she shook her
head firmly. “I shall go no fur-
ther,” she said simply. “If grand-
father cannot enter, I shall not. I
must take care of him.”
Both doctor and nurse looked
curiously after the retreating fig-
ures of these two children of Russia.
Then, with a shrug of his shoulders,
the chief surgeon instructed Miss
Davis to bring in the next group,
and the grind was resumed.
The forenoon wore on Slowly. At
twelve, the surgeon told the attend-
ant to bring the rest of his charges
at two o'clock, and he and his as-
sistant began straightening out the
room’s disorder, getting it ready for
the afternoon rush.
Miss Davis suddenly paused in her
work; above the babel of voices in
the court below she could hear the
faint strains of a violin, Now music
was not an unusual thing, for very
often Spanish guitars, Italian grind
organs, harps, bagpipes, and accor-
dions, each playing a different mel-
ody, could be heard at one time,
and the effect was not always
soothing to tired nerves. But she
knew instinctively that this music:
was different. Doctor Mahon heard
it, too, and crossing to the window
he called to an attendant to stop
the noise. As a hush fell over the
people in the yard, the strains came
sweet and clear.
Down below the low buildings that
comprised the Russian quarters
stood old Ivan Petroff, with Olga
beside him, all unconscious of the
audience that had assembled. Olga’s
head was bent low over her instru-
ment, but Ivan’s face was turned
upward and he held his violin as
'tenderly as a mother caressing her
child.
A faint breeze was now stirring
and it brought the music in through
the open window to the listening
pair. The soft sweet tones rose
and fell; the notes answered ex-
_ultantly, exquisitely to master hands.
“A master, surely,”
said under his breath.
He listened again. He was not a
critic of music, but the playing of
Ivan and his granddaughter sudden-
ly opened a door and he looked into
the world of these two. All the
pent-up discuragement and loneli-
ness and hopelessness of their hearts
that found expression in their music,
traveled straight across to the heart
of the man in whose hands their
fate rested.
When the last faint notes died
away, he stood for some time in
silence, then turned to the nurse.
“This old Russian ‘and his grand-
daughter are not what they're dress-
ed to represent. No peasant speaks
perfect Russian as they speak it, or
can play like that! I have a feeling
they haven't told all of their story.”
He had Ivan and Olga brought
before him again. They came, violins
still in ‘hand. Both were trembling
the surgeon
and a Russian girl, apparently about ‘with fear, the old man seeming more
feeble than ever. Olga supported
him tenderly, speaking soothingly to
Two young Armenian lacemakers, | They were both clad in the simple ‘him as one would to a child.
seated side by side on a bench, were coarse clothes worn
decis- class, the girl carrying a great, old-
cast their lives fashioned carpet bag and the old! court?”
knitting placidly, as if the
ion which would
by the peasant |
into one of two moulds—the first ; man hugging a shabby violin case. |
beautiful and shining, the other piti-
fully different—were of small
port.
thought of old Madame
ted, counting the heads as they
fell. A Polish laborer, his wife and
five children, occupied the other end
of the bench, and the curiosity of
these sturdy young future Americans
kept their parents in a constant
state of upheaval.
Miss Davis watching them, |
Defarge eyes,
who sat by the guillotine and knit- which the man,
"One glance at his upturned face like our music?
im- | told the doctor that he was blind. "
|
Only a small group it was that |
came within the range of her vision,
a very minute portion of the hosts
that arrive in one day, knocking at
the ‘gates of the new world seeking
admission. Poland— ‘Armenia— The
Pale—Italy—but in that small space
how many chapters of history were
written!
warfare covering a brief period of
years, but of centuries—oppressions,
persecutions, poverty, deportations—
some of the blackest pages from the
world’s folk. But it: was only in
the mind of the American nurse that
there was any thought of their cen-
tury-old - background. ‘The immi-
grants - themselves were concérned .
only with the new-land to ‘which
they had just’ come—-the place where
i
t
|
1
Wars lost and won, not
“them. “But ‘work was hard to find |
|
He quickly examined the sightless
asking numerous questions, .
in perfect Russian, '
answered unfalteringly. © When the
examination was finished Doctor Ma-
hon regarded the pair for an in-!
stant. i
“You have no eye disease, but I
am wondering what you are going
to do for a living?”
The girl answered without hesi-
tation: “Work!”
“Where ?”
She smiled happily. “I know not
just yet. But there is much work
and money in this good land. I
can find something for both of us
and we'll soon grow rich.”
Easy wealth was the one cherished
dream of every immigrant, and the
surgeon always dreaded to disillusion
and ‘money not easily earned: be- |
sides there ‘is‘a law of the land
strictly forbidding the entrance of
anyone likely to become &- public
charge. He disliked particularly to
refuse admittance on that . ground,
“but ‘when “he saw ‘his duty plainly
he was honor bound to do fit.
“Won't you play for me again
what I heard just now on the
Doctor Mahon asked kindly.
Ivan’s face beamed. “Then you
I am glad—very
glad. ‘We ‘shall play again!”
If what they played in the yard,
when ‘they had been unconscious of
their listeners, was perfect, this was
more perfect still for hope had
sprung up in their breasts once
more. The surgeon and nurse lis-
tened quietly until the last note
was done. Miss Davis was crying
softly, and the doctor was plainly
touched. z
“Where did you learn to play like
—Jike that?” he ‘asked the old man.
“In the ‘royal conservatory in
Petrograd,” was, the prompt reply.
“1 was—'" he-stopped abruptly for
Olga, her face a picture of terror,
was clutching frantically at his
sleeve. : :
The true situation dawned at once
on Doctor Mahon. “Peasant and
Prince stand on equal footing here,”
te Said quickly. = "It is honestly and
uprightness that ‘count, and all men
are free. «Tell me your story; do
not. be afraid.” :
“Then I shall tell. you” Old Ivan
said, joyously. :
An interpreter. was. called, for
‘néither Doctor Mahon nor his as-'
sistant had a sufficient command of
the Russian tongue. Eagerly the
aged man began his story.
“lI am of royal birth—though
this is the first time in years that
I've dared to admit it aloud. My
father and mother were popular in
the court of Nicholas I, and grew
up in that atmosphere. My parents
were wealthy and I had every musi-
cal advantage. Many are the times
Ihave played before the royal fam-
ily and have won much praise.
“But, alas! Things have so chang-
ed in my country! Because I had
much sympathy for the poor I in-
curred the wrath of Nicholas V,
and just before he lost the throne
all my property was taken away,
and Olga and I were turned out
with only the clothing we wore;
our violins were smuggled out with
the aid of an old servant. And by
‘the present government we've been
hounded and persecuted, not because
we are wealthy, but because royal
blood flows in our veins; and that
I cannot help!
“I was tobe executed, but friends
helped us across the border into
Poland and we finally got toa sea-
port. Ah, in no country of Europe
can we find peace and a place to
earn a living. We have wandered
from place to place, but nowhere
were we safe. Always we were fol-
lowed and always we suffered. But
we thought that in America there
would be a place for us. We
thought—we thought—that Amer-
ica—where people are so kind—
would surely give us a chance—"
His voice trailed off sadly.
Suddenly he turned his
eyes toward Olga. “I have wanted
to come so long, for the teachers
have said that my little girl has a
future before her.” A smile crossed
the thin face and he patted lovingly
the hand that lay on his shoulder,
“People have said that Icould play
—but she has the touch that is
divine. Some day she shall be great-
er than Old Grandfather Ivan could
ever be!”
“Why did you not tell us before?”
Miss Davis inquired.
“We did not know—we thought
it would not be best; we thought
perhaps if you knew we were run-
ning away from our government
you might send us back—laws are
strange.” - ‘
Once more the doctor took the
card from Ivan's coat and marked
in large letters: “O. K. Pass.” Then
he replaced it and took the trembling
old hand in his great, warm one.
“I am willing to take the risk of
your becoming a public charge,’ he
said. “Any one who can play as well
as you do will always find a wel-
sightless
come in America and a chance to
earn a living!”
“We've already been promised
some concerts,’ Olga replied quickly.
“And grandfather is not so old as
he looks. It is suffering that has
caused him to be gray and wrink-
led before his time. And we can’t
thank you enough, ever—” Tears
of happiness streamed down her
cheeks.
“May God bless you for your
kindness to anold man,” Ivan add-
ed his voice trembling so he could
scarcely speak.
They thanked the surgeon again
and again, flnally departing with
faces all aglow. Doctor Mahon
watched them as they disappeared
inside their own quarters. Then he
turned to Miss Davis briskly.
“I've already sent for them,” she
said smiling.
The mid-afternoon sun poured
relentlessly through the western
windows, the heat more stifling than
it had been at any time during the
day, but both doctor and nurse
worked quickly, patiently, seeming
not to notice. In the lives of these
two there was much hard work and
worry and nerve strain, but oc-
casionally there came a great mo-
ment that outweighed it all, and
they were glad, glad to be keepers
of the gates!—The Classmate.
THE CALL OF THE
-~ GREAT OUTDOCRS.
While actual experience will teach
the beginner the ways of the woods
and school him in the necessities
for living comfortably outdoors, it is
always well to study the situation
before attempting to go on a camp-
ing trip without a guide or friend
who is already experienced.
"Here are a few essentials of a
good-camp site that may help you
over some of the rough spots.
1. Pure water should be the first
thought.
2, Wood that burns well. In cold
weather there should be either an
abundance of sound downwood or
some standing hardwood trees that
are not too big for easy felling.
However, always select camp wood
from trees that are apparently dead
or in poor health. Good growing
timber is needed for restocking our
forest lands and to destroy them
carelessly disrupts the work of con-
servation. Downwood and stumps
usually furnish ample material for
the camp fire,
3. An open spot, level enough for
pitching the tent and making a
place for the campfire, but elevated
above its surroundings so as to have
good natural drainage. It must be
well above any chance overflow
from sudden rise of neighboring
streams. Observe the previous
flood “marks. ;
4. Straight poles for the tent, or
trees convenient for attaching the
ridge rope.
5. Security against the spread of
fire, Be sure your own campfire
does not become the cause of a ser-
ious forest fire.
6. Exposure to direct sunlight
during the day, especially during the
early morning hours.
7. In summer, exposure to what-
ever breezes may blow; in cold
weather, protection against the pre-
vailing wind.
Water, wood and good drainage
may be all you need for 3 ‘“one-
night-stand,” but the other points,
too, should be ‘considered when se-
lecting ‘the ‘site for a fixed camp.
~7f ‘you ‘want to know what is go-
ing on take the ‘Watchman.
t
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
Daily Thought.
The woodpecker pecks out a good many
pecks
of sawdust, in building his hut,
And he works like a jigger to make his
hole bigger,
And he is sore if his cutter don’t cut.
He has nouse for plans of cheap
artisans,
And in truth this can plainly be said;
The whole excavation has this explana-
tion,
He built it by using his head.
—Something has happened to wo-
men. They're better looking than
they used to be.
Or maybe it’s just because of the
clothes they're wearing these days.
Certainly women were never better
dressed than they are right this
fashion minute.
Present day clothes are better
looking because they're more ap-
propriate. More appropriate for the
femininity that wears them, and
much more appropriate for the
things femininty wears them to
and for.
We're doing a lot of observing of
women... and girls. Watching them
on the street—at big sports events
—in business offices—in trains— and
many other places.
And we've noticed several things.
For instance—there are fewer and
fewer bare arms appearing on the
street—and on trains.
That fewer and fewer printed
chiffons and dipping hemlines are
being seen at office desks.
That fewer and fewer frilled and
ruffled dresses are standing on the
gallery watching the golf match.
Fewer and fewer sun-back piques
sitting in the tennis grandstand.
And fewer and fewer dangling neck-
laces and elaborate bracelets on the
wielders of racquets and mashies.
And we've talked to lots of Wo-
men about this and asked them
why it is so. They all answer
—"“Those things aren’t appropriate
for the occasion. They don’t look
right.”—and those women know!
That’s one reason why folks look
so much better dressed. It's the
Yogue or appropriateness that does
t.
Instead of sleeveless dresses on
the street—and in trains—even .in
the warmest weather we see more
costumes of sleeveless dresses on
matching jackets—and the silk
jackets kept on. Because sleeve-
less dresses belong at social
events in the afternoon or evening
—or on the tennis court—or on one’s
own sun porch.
Instead of printed chiffons and
drippy hemlines in the office, we're
seeing trim little shantung suits,
quiet printed crepe or plath colored
dresses.
Instead of frills and ruffles on the
sidelines, we're seeing smart lacy
tweed suits and tailored silk dresses.
The sun-back cottons are left to
the players. The, grandstand prefers
neat pastel silks.
An eaves trough over the kitchen
door may prevent falls caused by
icy back steps.
—If soft custard curdles set itin
a pan of ice water and beat smooth
with an egg beater.
—A round whisk broom makes a
good clothes sprinkler because it
gives a finer spray, sprinkles more
evenly and does the work quicker
than the hand method.
—Good care makes upholstered
furniture last longer. Any kind of
cloth covering needs frequent, care-
ful brushing, or cleaning with a
vacuum cleaner.
—The six essentials for rearing
sturdy children are: Proper food,
sunshine— either real or artificial,
—exercise and rest, proper clothes,
protection from infection, and a
wholesome mental outlook on life.
—In the summer, the housewife’s
fancy turns to thoughts of lighter
foods, —to salads, to be exact.
For in the green curls of the let-
tuce, in the sun-drenched vegetables
and fruits that go into the making
of the salad, lie the protective,
elusive vitamins that spell health
and comfort to the human system,
Salads are our summer tonics, now-
adays.
Gelatine salads are not only grate-
ful to the palate, but they delight
the eye. Remember that their or-
namentation means much.
The thing most cooks are apt to
forget is that, when unmolded, what
was originally the bottom will now
be the top; therefore, it isin the vary
beginning of the molding that the
utmost care must be used to pro-
duce a decorative effect.
Here is a recipe for a Ginger Ale
Pineapple Salad whichis refreshing-
ly piquant, and always popular.
Soften 2 tablespoons of granulated
gelatine in 14 cup of cold water for
five minutes. Scald the juice from
a small can of crushed pineapple
with half the pineapple, dissolve the
gelatine in it, adding 2 tablespoons
of sugar and 2 tablespoons of lemon
juice.
Cool, add 2 cups of ginger ale,
turn into a mold previously dipped
into cold water, chill, unmold and
garnish with a few heart leaves of
lettuce.
Arrange the reserved pineapple
around the salad in small heaps,
top each with a maraschino cherry
and serve with marshmallow mayon-
naise separately.
All jellies unmold better if they
are not put into the mold until al-
most at the congealing point.
“Speaking of old families,” said
the aristocrat of the party, “One of
my ancestors was present at the
signing of the Magna Charta.”
“And ‘one of ‘mine, said little
Tkey, ‘who was one of the push, “vos
present at the signing of the Ten
‘Commandments.”
——For a home county paper the
Watchman excelle any: other newspa-
per in the county.
A
FARM NOTES,
—Four inches of rainfall in July
invariably indicates the coming of
an epidemic of late blight on pota-
toes, say plant pathologists of State
College. They urge growers to be
alert in watching for the disease and
diligent in the application of sprays
to combat its ravages.
—Fast molters in the poultry
flock should be marketed immediate-
ly after they go out of laying condition
because they will “drift” or lose
weight rapidly. Slow molters may
gain in body weight after egg pro-
duction ceases.
—Bordeaux spray will control the
three celery blights: early, bacterial,
rand late. The first spray should be
,applied within 7 to 10 days after
| transplanting and the others at 10-
day intervals.
| —Sweet peas should be picked
daily to prevent them from going
to seed. Apply a heavy mulch of
grass clippings to conserve mois-
‘ture. Water thoroughly and often
in dry weather,
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i —When enjoying picnics under old
, trees along brooks or in parks, give
ia thought to how they happen to
be there. Folks who plant trees
or help them to grow are not al-
ways the ones who enjoy their shade
‘and beauty, but the sum total of
, happiness is just as great. Plant a
tree and watch it grow.
—Pigs wallow in the mud be-
cause they like to be cool on hot,
summer days. Providing water in a
trough will give the comfort-seek-
ing animals a cleaner, better place
for the daily plunge.
—A fly-fighting cow is not an
efficient milk producer. Make Bossie
contented by spraying her enemies.
—Unless tractors increase rapidly
on farms the indications are the
time is near when the annual pro-
duction of mules and horses will be
considerably under the demand.
According to figures published re-
cently by the Department of Agricul-
ture, approximately five hundred
thousand horse colts and one hun-
dred sixty thousand mule colts are
now being raised annually where a
million head of horses and three
hundred thousand mules are said to
be required for replacements to
keep the industry on its present
footing.
Growers of horses and mules felt
keenly the competition of automo-
biles, trucks and tractors, which
made horse breeding unprofitable.
Right now it seems prices for both
horses and mules have increased
slightly during the last two years
and draft horses with size and
quality are now in demand and they
promise to bring good prices in the
future. The turning of the fancy
of the idle rich and others to polo
has made this saddle mount increase
in popularity and such horses are
now commanding the highest prices
in history. The demand for nrules is
greatest in the South, and the call
for them seems to be fairly stabiliz-
ed and the supply is diminishing so
they should increase in price before
very long.
Gasoline engines, hooked on wheels,
seem to have been the means of
rvolutionizing a number of things
during the past few years.
-—Again the Mexican bean beetle
is attacking garden and field beans.
To control this pest, County Agent
Rothrock recommends using mag-
nesium arsenate at the rate of one
pound to 50 gallons of water or one
ounce to three gallons of water. If
this material is not available cal-
cium arsenate can be used, The
formula for this is three-fourths
pound of calcium arsenate, one and
one-half pounds of hydrated lime
and 50 gallons of water, or for a
small application 3, ounce of cal-
cium arsenate, 17, ounces of hydrat-
ed lime, and 3 gallons of water.
There are a number of dusts rec-
ommended for use at the rate of 15
pounds per acre. One pound of
magnesium arsenate and five pounds
of hyrated lime make a good dust.
Another is composed of 1 pound of
calcium arsenate, 1 pound of dust-
ing sulphur and 4 pounds of hydrat-
ed lime. One pound of calcium ar-
senate and seven pounds of hydrated
lime is another form. Sodium
fluosilicate, 1 pound, and hydrated
lime, 9 pounds, is another formula
which can be used.
Regardless of whether dust orli-
quid spray is used, it must be direct-
ed to the under sides of the leaves
as this is where the bean beetle
feeds principally. On dusting ma-
chines an upturned nozzle should be
used and on spray machines an
angle nozzle on the end of the
spray rod is necessary.
As soon as skeletonizing of the
foliage is noticed the first applica-
tion should be made. One to four
applications should be made
at 7 to 10 day intervals, the num-.
ber depending on the severity of the
attacks.
—The cost per year for keeping
a work horse and the cost per hour
of work actually put in varies con-
siderably in different sections de-
pending on the types of farming
carried on, and even more widely
among individual farmers in the
same locality depending on how
carefully the farm operations are
planned and carried on and how
closely =the number of horses kept
is held to the actual power needs.
Costs also vary slightly from year
to year, depending on prices of grain
and hay.
Several of the agricultural col-
leges ‘have been keeping farm cost
records, some of them for several
years on the same farms; and the
average costs shown by these rec-
ords in the corn helt run very tlose-
ly within the limits of 135 to 16.5
cents per horse per hour of actual
‘work. ‘The ‘general ‘average one
year with ‘another is right around
15 cents per -hour or-$1.50 per day,
and this is the figure mostigenerally
used.