6 | BORM TO SERDE j | By CHJWLES M. SHELDOW, 1 Author of"IN HIS STEPS." "JOHN KING'S QUESTION CLASS." £ 112 "EDWARD BLAKE." Etc. (.Copyright, 19UU, by Cliarlen M. Sheldou.) CHAPTER I. THE WOULD NEEDS LOVE. "At thesnme 1 ime,Richard," s ; aid Mrs. Jlirhard Ward, anxiously, "it comes back to the old question: What are -we to do? You know I am not strong enough to keep house alone. We can't afford to break up our home and go into a hotel, and yet it seems almost the only thing left to do. What shall we do?" "1 don't understand why all our girls *tay so short a time!" exclaimed Mr. Ward, irritably. And then he looked across the table at his wife, and his look softened a little as he noted more ■carefully her tired face and the traces of tears on her cheeks. "Oh, 1 don't understand it! All I know is that they are all simply hor xid. 1 do everything for them and never get anything but ingratitude ■from every one of them! The idea of Maggie leaving me to-day of all the -days, just when Aunt Wilson was com ing. and Alfred home from college, and lewis down with his accident; it is more than lean bear, Richard. If you were any sort of a man, you would know what to do!" "Well, I am any sort of a man, and I -don't know in the least what to do," re plied Mr. Richard Ward to himself, as his wife laid her head down on the table, regardless of several dishes overturned, and broke into sobs as a relief to lier feelings which had been .growing in hysterical power ever since Maggie, the hired girl, had that morn ing not only given notice of her de parture but had actually left, after a brief but heated discussion about the •housework in the Ward family. The two children at the table turned <ri}*htened looks first at the father and then at the mother, and the youngest of them began to cry. "Stop that, Carl!" exclaimed Mr. Ward, sharply. Then, as he pushed back his plate with the food on it un touched, he muttered to himself: "I'm losing all my Christianity over this miserable hired-girl business. It's breaking up our home life and wreck ing the joy of our very children." The child's lip curled in a piteous ef fort at control and the older one be gan eating again, looking from father to mother anxiously. Mr. Ward rose, and, going over to his wife, he sat down by her and stroked her head gently. "There, Martha, you are all worn out. Just go into the sitting-room and lie down. George and I will do up the dishes, won't we, George? We'll play hired girl to-night, won't we?" "Let me help, too!" cried Carl. "Yes, you can help, too. Finish your supper, and we'll have a jolly time washing and wiping. Now, Martha, you go in and lie down. We'll get things straightened out somehow." Mrs. Ward feebly protested, but al lowed her husband to lead her into the sitting-room, where she sank down on at lounge. "I've got a splitting headache, Rich ard; leave the dishes until morning. You're tired with your business." "No, 1 don't like to see them lying around. Besides, dirty dishes have a way of growing with miraculous rapid ity when the girl's gone and things go to pieces like this,"he said, with a lapse into irritation again. "It's not my fault!" exclaimed Mrs. Ward, sharply. "Carl, stop that noise," she added as Carl began to gather up some of the dishes, piling the biggest plates on the little ones and letting several knives and forks clatter to the floor in his eagerness to help. "Don't be always nagging the chil dren, Martha!" said Mr. Ward, angrily, losing his temper for the tenth time that evening. The other times he had lost it silently. "It's always: 'Stop that noise!'from mother when her head aches," said George as he tried to pick up the knives and forks quietly, and let them drop twice before he had them back on the table. "See me help! See me help!" sung Carl as he started towards the kitchen door with his arms full of dishes. The pile was too heavy for his strength; and, as he neared the door the column began to topple, it balanced for a mo ment on the edge of safety, and then fell with a crash. The child looked at the ruin a moment in terrified silence, then sat down on the floor and began to cry. Mrs. Ward sat up on the lounge and looked at her husband almost sav agely- "Richard Ward, if you don't do some thing to change all this—" She did not finish her sentence, but lay down and turned her face to the wall in despair. And Richard Ward, of the firm of Mead, Ward and Company, known in business circles as a good, agreeable, and fairly successful mer chant, and in church circles as a con sistent member and active Christian -man, turned from his wife and went ■out into the dining-room with a look on his face that his minister had never •een, and a feeling in his heart that was a good way from being what Blight lie expected in a man who was "in good and regular standing" in the .Marble Square church. "It would be very funny, if it were not so near a tragddy," he said tohim •eelf as lie picked up the broken dishes while the two boys looked on."lt would be comical, if it were not so miserably serious in its effects on .?ur home life. Aere lam doing t"ie dirty, common work of the kitchen, 1. Rich ard Ward, the dignified, well-10-du member of the firm of Mead, Ward and Company, all because of this girl, who —" He did not finish the sentence even 1 to himself, hut went on with the work ' jf clearing the table, making the two 1 boys sit down in a corner of the din- ' ng-room while he did the work. \\ hen le had carried everything out, he let :he children go out into the kitchen ivith him, while he carefully shut the ' Joor into the dining-room and then -jroceeded to "do up" the dishes, let- Ling George help, and finally, in an swer to the younger boy's plea, allow ing him to carry some of the inde structible dishes into the pantry. "It's fun, isn't it, papa?" said Carl, is the last dish was wiped and the towels hung up. "Great i'un," replied Mr. Ward, grimly. "Father means it isn't," said George, with a superior wisdom. "Anyhow, 1 think it's fun. Only 1 don't like the old girls. They make mamma feel bad. I)o they make you feel bad, papa?" "Yes, my son, they do," replied Mr. Ward, as he sat down in one of the old kitclien chairs and took his younger son into his lap. And, if the truth were told, if his two small sons had not been present, it is possible Mr. j llichard Ward might actually have j shed tears over the constantly recur ring tragedy of the "hired girl" as it had been acted in various forms in his own household during the last five years since they had moved into the city and his wife's health begun to break down from household cares. "And yet I don't understand these women," he said to himself, as he sat there in the kitchen, his chin on the j little boy's head, while George j perched on the kitchen table gravely observant. "We have everything in the ; world to do with. Our family is not very large. Martha is kind, and gives 1 the girls very many favors. We pay | good wages and are ready to put up j with many kinds of incompetency, | and yet we don't seem to be able to j keep any sort of a girl more than j three months at a time. It is breaking j up our home life. It is simply absurd that I should be doing this kitchen i work, but Martha isn't well, and j there's breakfast to get and all the work after it." He thought of his wife in the other j room on the lounge and was filled with remorse for her. "I was a brute to talk to her so sharply," he said, out loud. don't talk," said George, from his elevated post on the table, speaking from knowledge gained in a study of natural history given him by his Aunt Wilson. "Some of them do. The two-legged ones," replied his father. And he rose, "DIDUPTHE DISHES WITH GEOKGE'S 11ELF." and with the boys went into the sit ting-room. They found that Mrs. Ward had goni upstairs in answer to a call fronj Lewis, the oldest boy of the familA at. home, who had broken his arm tie week before while engaged in sport it school. The duty of putting the two younj er lads to bed devolved upon tie father. He performed the duty with out much heart in it. His wife was si lent and in no mood for reconciliaticn. When Carl said his usual prayer, ie added: "And bless Maggie, became she is so bad, and has wandered fir from the fold," repeating a phrase je had heard at Sunday school the we.'k before. And Mr. Ward listened with anything but a love of mankind in l.is heart, wondering whether he ought not to be included in the child's peti tion, esteemed church member though he might be in the eyes of those who did not see into his home life. In the morning he faced a tired, list less, discouraged wife, sitting oppo site him at a breakfast which had liepn prepared with his help, under protest, and with a spirit of nervous depres sion that from experience he knew well enough meant a miserable day at home. lie rose from the table with a realty desperate feeling, saying again to himself: "It would be funny, if it were not so tragic." "I'll try to find some one. Martha," he said, feebly, as he put on his hat. "I don't care whether you do or not," she answered, indifferently. CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, AUGUST 8, 1901. He was tempted to grow angry, but checked himself. "I'll advertise. I'm tired of send ing to the agencies." llis wife did not answer. "We'll do the best we can, Martha. There must be some competent girl in this city somewhere." "If there is, we never found one," Mrs. Ward answered sharply. He wisely declined to discuss the question, and started togo out. "I'll not be at home to lunch," he said, putting his head in at the door. There was no answer, and he slow ly shut tlie door and started for his car at the next corner; and, of the many burdened, perplexed hearts carried into the city that morning, it is doubtful whether any out of all the number was more burdened than that of Mr. Richard Ward, of the firm of Mead, Ward and. Company. He sent into three of the leading evening papers a carefully worded advertisement asking for a compe tent servant, and took up his day's work with its usual routine without the least expectation that any reply would come from his advertisements. It would, therefore, have given him a peculiar sense of interest in the fu ture, if at about six o'clock that even ing, us he went out of his office and with strange reluctance started for his home, he could have seen in a house not two blocks from his own a young woman eagerly reading the advertisement and talking to an old er woman in a strangely subdued, but at the same time positive, manner concerning it. "Barbara, what you say is impos sible! It is so strange that no one but yourself would ever have thought of it. You must give up any such plan." The young woman listened thought fully, holding a newspaper in her hand; and, as she looked up from it, the older woman had finished. "At the same time, mother, will you tell me something better to do?" "There are a thousand things. Any thing except this." "But what, mother? I have tried for everything. Our friends" (her lip curled a little as she said the word) "have all tried. No one seems to need me unless it is this family. Here seems to be a real need. It will be unselfish, mother, don't you think, to do something to fill a real demand, instead of always begging for a chance to make a living somewhere?" She took up the paper and read the advertisement slowly. "Wanted—A competent girl to do general housework. A good cook, able to take charge of the housekeeping for a family of live. American girl preferred. Good wages. Apply at once to Kichard Ward, Nt. DO Hamilton street." "I call it a good opening, mother. And it's only two blocks from here. ■ Aid I seem to fill all the require ments. I am 'competent.' I am a 'good cook.' I am an 'American girl.' ! And I am able to 'apply at once' be- I cause I have nothing else to do. So I Jo not see why I should not walk j rijrht over and secure the place before sone one else gets it." She rose from her seat, and the mother turned an appealing face to j wtrds her. I "'Barbara! you shall do no such | crazy thing. At least, you shall not wjth my consent. It is madness for ynU to throw .yourself away! To tlink of my daughter becoming a 'hired girl!' Barbara, it is cruel of yiu even to suggest it. It is a part o: your college foolishness. You have bjen jesting with me." "No, mother, dear, 1 have not." Bar- Inra walked over to where her moth er had beer, sitting, and kneeled lown by her, putting her hands in I ier mother's hands, and looking af | feetionately up to her. j "No, mother, I am not jesting. 1 am very much in earnest. Look at me! Barbara Clark, age 21; graduate j Mount Holyoke. Member of church land Christian Endeavor society. Plen- Ity of good health. No money. Edu cated for a teacher. No influence with the powers that be to secure a position. At home, dependent on and a burden to —" here Mrs. Clark , put a hand on the speaker's mouth and Barbara gently removed the hand —"a burden to a good mother who has no means besides a small legacy,daily growing smaller, and the diminutive interest on an insurance fund that is badly invested in west ern land. There's my biography up to date. Do you wonder that I want to be doing something to be making some money, even if it is only a little, to be a breadwinner, even if—" "But to be a 'hired girl,' Barbara! Do you realize what it means? Why, it means social loss, it means drop ping out of the circle of good society, it means daily drudgery of the hard est kind, it means going to the bot tom of the ladder, and always staying there! And you, Barbara, of all girls, fitted to tench, an exceptionally good student, bright and capable. O, how does it happen that girls who are your inferiors have secured good positions and you have not succeed ed?" " 'Pulls,' " said Barbara, briefly. Mrs. Clark looked troubled. "Is that college slang?" "No. mother. Political. I mean that the other girls have had influence. If father were alive —" "Ah, Barbara, if your father were living, there would be no talk of your going to work in a kitchen. And you shall not go, either. It is the height of absurdity to think of it." "But, mother," Barbara began, after a moment's silence, "do you realize the faets, the plain, homely facts, of our existence? Every day you are drawing on Uncle Will's legacy, and next month's rent and grocery bill will eat a large hole in it.l have been a whole year at home, living in idleness, and eating my bread in bit terness because I could see the end coming'. There is no one who is in any way bound to help us. Why should I let a false pride keep me from doing honest labor of the hand? And there is more ct it than you imagine, inot ier dear. It takes mort than a low order of intellcet to man age the affairs of a family as a housekeeper, doesn't it?" Mrs. Clark did not answer, and Bar bara went on: "Yoi» know, mother, I made a special studj in college of so cial economics. The application of Ihose principles to a real, live prob lem had great fascination for me. Now, the hired-girl problem in thi9 country is a real, live, social and eco nomic problem. Why shall I not be able to do as much real service to so ciety and the home life of America by entering service as a hired girl and studying it from the inside, as if 1 went into a schoolroom like other school ma'ams, to teach? 1 love adventure. Why not try this? No one knows how much 1 might be able to do for hu manity socially as a hired girl!" Mrs. Clnrk looked at her daughter again with that questioning look of doubt which she often felt when Bar bara spoke in a certain way. It was not the girl's habit to treat any sub ject flippantly. She was talking with great seriousness now, and yet there were ideas in what she said that her mother could not in the least under stand. [To Be Continued.l SCARING THE LIONS. Fierce Forent Klum Driven Off by linitatlnK tlie Cries of a I'uck of Wolves. M. Foa, the French explorer, says that lions have a wholesome fear of African wolves, which hunt in packs, and do not scruple to attack even the lion. There are terrible battles in which the lion succumbs to numbers, and dies fighting. In connection with the lion's fear of wolves M. Foa tells a story from his own experience. It was a very dark night, so dark that trees could not be distinguished until the travelers were close upon them. Lions prowled about the party, one of them roaring from a point so close as to have an alarming effect on the nerves. The animals could not be seen, but they could be heard on all sides. Reaching a tree, the men found one of their comrades with rifle cocked, peering into the darkness, trying to discover the whereabouts of the an imal, which could be plainly heard walking among the leaves. A second man was trying to relight a half-ex j tinguished torch. Still the lions could be heard coming and going in the darkness. At this point the native servant whispered the advice to imitate the cry of wolves in the distance. The party at once began barking and crying: "llu! hu! hu!" in an undertone, as if the pack were still at a distance, while the man at the camp made the same well-imitated cry. The effect was instantaneous. There was the sound of a rapid stampede across the dry leaves. The lions de camped in a panic, driven off by the supposed approach of a pack of wolves. For the rest of the night the party was undisturbed. Hard StriiKKlo* of n Xotcd Jiirlnt. Judge Willis, lecturing recently on "My Personal Reminiscences," told a large audience that instead of being reared in the lap of luxurj', and sent to Oxford or Cambridge, as some peo ple imagined, he had passed six years in business before he was 21 y-ars of age, doing every kind of work that came within his daily calling. In a basement he had entered £B,OOO worth of bonnets, hats and ribbons in dne day, and for nights in succes sion heard the bells of St. Paul's strike 12 as he turned out to walk three miles to his house. On leaving school at 15 he studied Latin and Greek and afterward matriculated in London university in the first di vision. A year later, in 1858, he passed into the inner temple and be gan the study of law. With the ex ception of £IOO a year he received for his maintenance and for books,his education for the law cost about £lO, as they could attend all the best lectures at the inner temple for £5 per annum. He secured his P>. A. degree in 1859, and in the next.year,having rend law day n.nd night without anyone to help him, he ! came out in the examination first.— Chicago Record-Herald. A Scotch Dlnloisue. In a dull Scotch village, on a dull morning, one neighbor called upon an other. He was met at the door by his friend's wife, and the dialogue went thus: "Cauld?" "Aye. Gaen to be weety (rainy), I think." "Aye. Is John in?" "Oh, aye, he's in." "Can I see him?" "No." "But I wanted to see him." "Ave, but you canna see him—John's deid." "Deid?" "Aye." "Sudden?" "Aye." "Very sudden?" "Very sudden." "Did he say onvthing about a pot of green paint before he deid?"—lan Maclaren, in British Weekly. Aimed at aioivliardu, Brown —Men of prominence in pub lic life or in any of the arts and sci ences must be a rather inferior set. Greene —What an idea! "O, I don't know anything about it. ! T only judge from 1 lis sort of charts who brag of knowing the prominent ones."—Boston Transcript. Off on ■ I.nrk. By a curious coincidence it is on h lark that money seems particular!} prone to take wings.—Detroit Journal. IDEAL CHEESE FACTORY. Uannerr of a I'ennnylvanla K»lab littliinent Telln Iluw It I* Ar ranged an<l Co ml acted. The new cheese factory in Craw ford county, Pa., is 30 by 08 feet in size, double boarded and papered on the out side, with a cement floor. The work room is 30 by 30 feet, with a slanting floor that fails about 4 inches in 26 feet, while the other 4 feet slants to it, forming a gutter for all slops to run oil. There are two curing rooms. The small one is papered and ceiled on the Inside. In this we put our new cheese for 8 to 12 days, after which they are moved to room "So. 2, which we call the cold room. This room was sheathed on the inside, papered on sheathing, put on 2 by 2 inch pieces up tEq I (utrmo I -i n i 6gQ oc ' *»1 11 ■ ■ I 2.5* JO .. 30*30 I%\ | - Cotd ftaom* m — , I ~ U \6° a fa/ 1 1 " , C„rJ J),,,.,, rr [ FLOOR PLAN OF CHEESE FACTORY. and down, papered on those, then ceiled over the paper, thus making two air chambers, one of 4 inches and on« 2 inches. It was ceiled and pa pered overhead and filled with saw dust level with the joists. Two 12-ineh ventilators run from the ceiling up through the roof. The windows in this room are of two thicknesses of {lass. There are also two small openings in the wall in op posite corners, to allow cold air to come in when the night is cooler than the day. Last fall when the thermom eter stood for several days above 90 degrees in the shade, we never saw it above 70 degrees in this room. This spring we putin a cold air duct. The cheese are placed on a truck as they are taken from the presses and pushed to the curing rooms. The whey is pasteurized as soon as drawn and kept in tanks covered with boards and roofing paper. Some of our pa trons say that the value of the wliey was doubled bj' pasteurizing. The building sets on a tile founda tion, built high enough so no boards touch the ground. It is covered with an asbestos roofing. We use no hoist ing crane to unload, as the cans are dumped over a saddle from the wag ons. The upper story over work rooms is used for boxes, workshop, etc.—Orange Judd Farmer. HAY IN THE STACK. How It Can Re Measured with n De gree of Accuracy Sufficient fop Ordinary I'urpoMCM. Several correspondents have writ ten for a certain method of measur ing' hay in the stack. Here is one that is said to be quite correct, but who first formulated it we are un able to say: Measure the stack for length, width and the "over." To get the "over" throw a tape line over the stack at an average place, from ground to ground, drawing it tightly. Multiply the width by the over and divide this result by four; multiply result of division by the length for approximate cubical contents of stack. To reduce to tons: Tor hay that has stood in stack less than 20 days, divide cubical contents by 512; for more than 20 and less than CO days, divide cubical contents by 422; for more than 00 days, divide cubical contents by 3SO. For instance, take a stack which measures 17 feet wide, 58 feet long and 36 feet over. Stack has stood 15 days. Multiply IT by 36, equals 612. Divide 612 by 4, equals 153. Multiply 153 by length 58, equals 8,574, which gives the cubical con tents in feet. Divide 8,874 by 512, equals 17.3 tons in stack. In the bay the rule is to multiply the length, width and height of the bay, or the hay, together, and then divide the total by 350, the supposed number of cubic feet in a ton of good timothy after it is well settled. Thus a bay 20 feet long, 15 feet wide and 15 feet high would contain 12 tons and 1,750 pounds. Of course these measurements are only approximate, and the actual results will show slight variations either one way or the other. There is no rule that can be absolutely correct. —Washington Farmer. Gra.HMOM for Dry Weather. Experience during recent dry sum mers strongly emphasizes the chief weakness of blue gratis —its almost entire failure to grow during dry weather. Orchard grass has been found best of the ordinary grasses in this respect, but the common red clover has shown its superiority to any of the smaller grasses for either hay or grazing in dry years. Highly prized as are the old blue grass pas tures, it seems clearly proved that a greater quantity of food would be produced by putting them under a rotation, with corn and clover the chief crops. This would involve more labor, but in present conditions would give better prospects of profits, said the late Prof. G. 15. Mor row. In 18G4 the Australian cost of carry ing merchandise was Cs. 3d. per ton per ten miles. it is now Is. id. for itmtk RASPBERRY CULTURE. ITalaublp tons (or Those Who Ir.tcud to linsmie In liic lluxi nets >i'it Year. Select a piece of ground with good surface drainage, facing east or south. The soil should contain a g-ood amount of humus. A good ilover sod which had a crop of po tatoes taken from it the year before planting berries, would be my ideal. During winter or in early spring give It a liberal dressing of stable manure —about 8 to 12 tons per acre, l'low under in early spring but be careful not to plow when the ground is too wet. 1 prefer plowing 7 or 8 inches deep. Pulverize ground thoroughly; mark out with single shovel plow about 5 inches deep; rows 3'/ a feet apart. I'lant every other row to potatoes, then plant your berries in the re maining rows. Xow we want good thrifty, well-rooted plants. When we have to purchase them or have to transport a considerable distance we want them in a dormant state, but when plants can be got on an adjoin ing plantation 1 prefer to have plants well "started, say tops 6 inches high, taking them up with all the soil that will adhere to roots, only taking about 3 or 4 dozen at a time and planting them 3 feet in row, running the shovel plow through the row just before planting so the soil is fresh and moist. As soon as they are set start the cultivation to form an earth mulch and arrest the evaporation from the surface of moisture brought up by capillary attraction; also to kill all weeds. Keep cultivating all summer and keep clear from weeds. The potato crop will pay for the •work and the use of the land. Do not prune the first season. In the following spring prune the laterals back to 10 or 12 inches. After fruit ing remove all old canes, and all new canes except 3 or 4 of the strongest, in August or September. I take one horse to a breaking plow and plow the soil up to the row of plants, forming quite a ridge. The reason I do this is, it braces up the plants and keeps them from being I blown over; also it drains the surface I water from the plants and keeps j them from heaving out, the following | spring. I prune all laterals back to I 8 or 12 inches. The reason of so close pruning is it preserves the vitality of plants. Also it makes them set less fruit, but it will be of finer and better quality and just as many quarts. I cut the top bud out of all canes when 2 1 /, feet high so that they will form laterals. After the second year cultivate with a double shovel plow and five-tooth cultivator. My first plantation has fruited four j crops and this spring has a fine set | of canes for fifth crop and from ap pearances will produce paying crops for three years or more in the future. I attribute this success to close prun ing,—George YVyler, in Ohio Farmer. PULLING GRAPEVINES. Chnin Trnee Worked I's" One Mnle Does tl»e Work Neatly mid in LeMM Thau No Time. Owing to a change in the plans of a fruit farm in a neighboringcounty.it became necessary to pull up two acres of a vineyard. The owner ordered his men to grub out the vines. r i hey went at it with spade, ax and grubbing hoe, and at the end of the first half-day had only a few vines out. At that rate CHAIN TRACE IN OPERATION. they had a week's hard work on hand. A Yankee neighbor happened to visit the farm, and after watching the men for awhile told one of them togo to the barn and harness a mule and bring him with a ten-foot chain. Then be set the men to digging around the ?ines and cutting the main roots. When the mule and chain came he made a half-hitch with the chain around a vine near the ground, and attached it to the mule's whiffletree. Then he took a piece of 2x4 about four feet long, placed one end on the ground and the other under the chain, leaning at an angle of 45 degrees toward the vine. The mule was started and the vine lifted out of the ground. The chain was unfastened and hitched to the next, and so on. The whole job was done with the mule, and was an easy and speedy one. The same plan will work with all grubbing where the roots are not too large. Fence posts can also be pulled up in the same way.—Orange Judd Farmer. Worst KneniiPH of llulter, Two of the strongest enemies of butter to-day are oleomargarine and the preservatives. Both are of the same general character, for they de pend on tb<» greed of men for their very existence. Both exist in the dark ness and masquerade under other than, their true characters. Oleomargarine can be profitably sold only when it is sold for butter. The preservatives are sold by bi ing proclaimed as perfectly healthful drugs. The ignorant and vicious buy the chemicals. The ignor ant principally buy the bogus butter products, or at least most of the consumers are ignorant. In either case a dissemination of knowledge is neces sary to destroy the enemy.— Farmers' iisview.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers