Montour American. (Danville, Pa.) 1866-1920, April 09, 1908, Image 3

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    IT®irm G»g*i's
Easter
** EE, Tom's In luck!" said Larry
I ( I-'inn as be watched two of
VVJJ the prettiest girls In the
■ward sail liy the engine house
nnd Klve Tom Brennan, the handsom
est fireman of hook and ladder com
pany No. —, a perfect fusillade of eye
adoration.
"To the divii wid Tom!" said Dooley
Bryan, shrugging his brawny shoul
ders in downright disgust "lie don't
be human. What ails him Oi dunno—
all the gurrils in the parish crazy over
his black eyes an' he not notlcin' thim!"
"Was he always so?" inquired Larry,
"lie was." returned Dooley, "Iver
since Maggie llarrigan tuk the veil."
"Oho!" said Larry.
"They were engaged," said Dooley,
enraptured with himself as a gossip,
"when Maggie got the vocation. It was
near killin' Tom, but av course he could
do nothin'."
"lie couldn't?" said Larry. "Why
didn't he carry her off?"
"Murder, ye divll, plnvat ye be sayln'?
'Tis the bride of heaven she is. It's
ashamed av you OI am, ye baste. No;
poor Tom had to
submit, but he's Pi ft I
uiver been the TX^I
same. Oi sup- h\y
pose now," con- RL | Fsc)~l/]
eluded Mr. Bry- }J~ i 711,
an meditatively, J
"if wan av thim 1 gSH?
minibers av the 11 H T
were to come by j Vj
and give Tom E '
the glad eye he'il ■' rail
niver incourage ~
her. 'Tisstlirange
thot the nuts al
lus fall to the
toothless divils." "TO THE DIVII. WID
With which TOM!" SAIV> DOOLEY
sage observation BBYAN.
Mr. Bryan betook himself to the bur
nishing of the hose cart as a relief to
his overcharged emotions.
All was true. Since the day Tom
Brennan tore his manly heart out in
bidding an eternal farewell to the
Ijpnutiful girl who renounced him for
her vocation the big fellow had never
been the same.
All women were like shadows to him.'
lie had loved one truly, devotedly, and
he had been forced to give her up to
heaven. lie could never love another.
Tom never noticed women. He sim
ply went about his business of saving
property and lives as if there were
nothing else in the universe for a big,
handsome, athletic fellow.
Often as he lay in his bunk at tile
engine house, as he rode tempestuously
through the crowded streets, as he
fought the flames, he repeated to him
self the last words he had said to his
beloved: "I love you, Maggie, darlin'.
I would live for you or I would die for
you, and since you bid me tear out my
heart I must' rlo It "
«••••••
The Easter morning dawned—the
very Easter 011 which Tom lrad hoped
to lead his sweetheart to the altar. lie
thought of her as he roused from his
dreams -of hor sweet face. Life was
over for him, he said. He saw again
the crowded church, the white robed
novices. He smelled thrf Incense, he
heard the roll of the organ, the solemn
voice of the priest lie shivered and,
turning, buried his face iu his pillo*.
Suddenly the alarm roused him. He
listened. He sprang from his bunk
and a moment later was down the polo
and in his place on the truck. His
face was like the face of the dead. As
in a dream he heard the cry, "Where
is it?" and the answer from a dozen
lusty throats, "The convent!"
The convent and the orphans' home
adjoining were ablaze. It was evident
at a glance that the buildings were
doomed. The main business was to
save the sisters and the children. /
The bravery of the nuns and their
proteges was only second to that of
the magnificent fellows who fought for
the lives of those helpless people. Ev
ery one recalls the amazing fortitude
and courage displayed at this fright
ful hour.
The children had been well drill
ed for just such a moment of peril,
and nobly did they now obey their in
structors. Such deeds of heroism as
were done that bitter morning are nev
er lost. Their memory remains as an
eternal inspiration.
Tom Brennan thrust a ladder up to a
window of the dormitory just beneath
the huge gilded cross that surmounted
the roof of the convent.
In this window, serene, calm, her
lips moving iu prayer, stood a sweet
faced sister,
fif!') I folding in her
I WF/F ; S tums a tiny cTip
' / *'s P'cd boy. So
' syinboMc wa^s
I mother superl
rStfir n or . she kllolt
xffk \ u i'^ n 11,0 ,)nre
wjjrffijL ground and \
\ Wh en To tn
])] Brennan. his
'' face blackened 1
FOR ONE INSTANT HE with smoke and
HBI.D HER ON 111s bis eyes blazing
MKAJ,T - with heroic ex- !
eitement, reached the window Sister j
Mary Beatrice looked steadfastly at
him with her old sweet smile, the smile
he had loved.
He held out his arms.
"The child first, Tom," she said as
she laid the little boy on the broad j
breast of the fireman.
A mighty shout went up from the
crowd below. All had seen that sub- j
lime act. All realized what it meant j
A dozen hands received the child,
and Tom Brennan turned back tin the
ladder.
He lifted Sister Mary Beatrice fw>ik
the window.
For one Instant he held her on hl»
fceart
Then as the frenzied spectators
groaned and cursed and prayed the
ronvent walls swaved In.
IM ASmi
— 1
THROUGH Hays of Lent,
On sport intent,
Dan Cupid fashioned arrows,
And every day
His aim, they say,
He practiced on the sparrows.
Now, days of Lent
Myrtilla spent
In projects for adorning
A costly hat
Of splendor that
She'd wear on Easter morning.
Thus Cupid and Myrtilla planned
With skill and cui'lD AIMED A
swiftness SHAFT,
laden;
But, 10, the dart
Found not the heart,
But the headgear of the maidenl
"Ho, ho!" she cried
With saucy pride.
"You did it very neatlyl
My hat was bare.
Your arrow there
Becomes it most completely."
But, filled with shame
At wretched aim
And practice unavailing,
The pretty boy,
Bereft of joy,
Before her stood bewailing.
Then to his side
She stepped and cried:
. t ''Cheor up, you
''' 7X silly Cu P' dl
dgMjjtj/ blind
[7 IF S-\. I've hoard—l
"in HEART IS IN MY You'd know my
EASTER HAT. slit!" heart
Is in my Easter hat. sir!"
SAVED BY THE MUD.
Exciting Elepkant Adventure In the
Heart of Africa.
j During a hunting trip in Africa A.
• Henry Savage Landor had a narrow
escape from two elephant:) which he
was stalking. He had got to within
ten yards of the male elephant and,
taking careful aim, pulled the trigger.
1 The story of what followed is told in
Mr. Landor's book "Across Widest
Africa:"
The cartridge never went off, but un
fortunately my kresh, who relied oil
t,lie effectiveness of my weapon, fired
at the same moment with his match
lock. We were such a short distance
from the animal that he actually hit
bim in the head. 1 shall never forget
my surprise when the elephant lifted
his trunk skyward and in his fury
roared like thunder.
A moment later the elephant, with
his trunk extended, dashed after us, I,
too, with my useless rifle in my hand,
having by that time acquired a high
rate of speed.
Had I been running a race for the
world's record I am sure I should have
won tlie prize. It was amazing to me
how fast I could run, as I confess my
blood turned perfectly cold when I
could feel the hoarse blowing trunk of
the elephant only a few rods behind
me, and I expected every minute to be
crushed into a jelly.
In that particular part of the country
these marshy plaias are extraordinarily
sticky and slushy, so the moment I
dashed into the grass at the record
breaking speed at which I was travel
ing my feet stuck in the soft and slushy
mud, and I was precipitated with my
face nnd hands Iu the slush, my rifle
sinking deep.
This was the supreme moment of ap
prehension. I said goodby to the wijrhl
and imagined myself dead. No one
could have iieen more surprised than I
was when, a reasonable time to be
killed in having elapsed, I got up again
and perceived the elephant a few y;irds
off, cantering away in the opposite di
rection.
Ilis back view was a great relief to
me. He had come to within two or
three yards of where I had fallen and,
having himself sunk in the soft mud.
had turned around and struggled away,
leaving big circular footmarks, regular
holes four or five feet deep In the uiud.
Spotting Smokeless Powder.
ierman military authorities are cx
-1 -lmonMii". with a device by which
the location of troops using smokeless
powder may be easily discovered. By
this device it is proposed to survey
the landscape through pale red glasses.
The flash of smokeless powder appears
strong in red light, while ordinary ob
jects are dimmed. By furnishing field
glasses with the device In question,
which is provided with screens of the !
proper tint, the position of concealed ;
marksmen can be detected.
San Francisco's Rat Hunt.
Fearing that the Pacific fleet would 1
be kept away from their city by fear j
of the plague, a few cases of which
have appeared in San Francisco, the i
residents of that city have raised a
fund of $500,000 to hunt out the rats i
that are supposed to spread the plague !
and clean up the garbage on which |
they feed. A bounty of 50 cents is ;
paid for each rat. Traps, poison and ;
firearms are being used, and the av- j
erage bill is already several thousand
a week.
And at Tiie root of tile cross 'lorn
Brennan died for his "Maggie darlin'." j
—Edith Sessions Tupper in New York
Herald.
AN ENDOWED STUDENI
Will Makes William Cullen B.
Kemp Collegian For Life.
HOLDER OF SEVERAL DEGREES
Columbia Man Who Has Been at the
University Many Years Must Keep on
Chasing Knowledge, Else His $2,500
Annuity Will Stop—ls Still One of
the "Boys."
William Cullen Bryant Kemp, LL.
8., LL. M.. A. 8., A. M„ lias started
iu with his accustomed jauntiness of
I spirit to take the degree of Ph. D. at
; his old stamping ground, Columbia
j university. In taking this degree more
1 time than for any other degree is al
j lowed by the university, lie may have
j five years in which to grasp political
I economy and the kindred subjects that
equip oue for rank as a doctor of phi
losophy.
The Kemp who was named after the
poet who, as a mere boy, wrote "Than
atopsis" is an older element in the
contemporaneous history of the instl-
I tutlon than many of the great build
: tugs which cluster around the dome of
| the library building, says the New
York Times. Generations have flowed
Into the dormitories and class rooms
and flowed out fitted for endeavor iu
: the world, but Kemp has stuck, and
; the years have seen him still the col
lege boy, working for a degree, with
j his hair growing sparser and his form
1 taking on gradually that rotundity of
| the well fed man of the forties.
I In the registrar's otliee the other day
the clerk smiled and said that of
J course he knew Kemp. Kemp was
: there when the clerk was in linen pin
; afores at home and before he got in
| touch with the registration books. As
| far back as his means of research al
j lowed he found the name of William
: Cullen Bryant Kemp recorded as out
| for the LL. B. in IS93—that was flf
-1 teea years ago—and the newest book
j jf record had him down as out for the
: Ph. D.
I In these maturer college days of
Kemp—one report has it that he has
i been a student for twenty-seven years
; —he appears ever and anon in khaki
J knickerbockers and with a ehrysanthe
! mum in the lapel of his well fitted
jacket Iu Livingston hall, where his
I snug rooms are, he shares in the
j bright, cheerful dormitory life of the
scores of youngsters when he is not
; boning away for exams,
j The mystery of Kemp's student dec
| ades is 110 longer a mystery. There is
; hardly a boy who has been at the unl
i versity for two years who has uot
| heard It told and It iu turn. It Is
J to the effect that Kemp when a youth
I displayed an antipathy to the regular
J course of study and that he would uot
j be ready on any examination day or
I gather enough of book learning to
j make even a fair show along with the
| most dillident of students.
| To remedy this Kemp, the boy, was
provided for in the will of a wealthy
j relative who was wise iu his day and
generation and given to the under
; standing of human nature. This rela
| tive provided an income for Kemp of
I $2,500 a year, the same to be paid hlin
as long as he remained at Columbia
university and to cease when he left.
Kemp was in 110 danger of brain
: fever from overwork at the time this
I arrangement was first made, but it is
, said that ho managed thereafter to re
main on the college register as a stu
dent and draw the first year's money
i coming to him. He could have been
graduated many, many years ago, of
I course; but, the students say, the real
ization of the practical uses to which
! $2,000 a year could be put brought
him to a sense of veneration for the
pursuit of knowledge, and he began to
: nurse the curriculum for all it was
worth.
From IS9C, when he got his LL. 8.,
to 1000 were years of leanness iu the
gathering of degrees for Kemp, but he
accumulated the easy A. 1(. in 1900 and
during the following year made a spurt
and picked up the A. M.and the LL.
M. But this was exhausting too rapid
ly the degrees that might be attained
during a goodly space of years 011 a
comfortable inheritance paid yearly.
The seven years until now have been
leaner than any of the other stretches,
nnd Kemp is boning away on the long
est of all the stretches, the live years
allowed for the acquiring of the Ph. I>.
Learning has become a profession with
Student Kemp now. Just how old he
is Ids fellow students profess not to
know. Some say that he has finished
with the forties nnd W trudging along
toward sixty in his khaki knickerbock
ers. with his books under his arm and
his chrysanthemum in his jacket lapel.
With the Ph. D. the endowed student
will have used up the last of the
scholarly degrees offered by Columbia,
but may go back for postgraduate
courses and get a bachelor of science
degree in two classes. Moreover, when
these resources in the battle against
the tread of time have been used up
Kemp may cast about and select de
grees In the more practical and mate
rial lines of mental accomplishment
There will bo mining, electrical engi
neering. civil engineering, architecture,
pharmaceutical chemistry, mechanical
engineering, and that will be the end.
(Ie will either leave college without an
Income or be removed nt the head of a
procession of cnrrlages.
Should the faculty body take no ac
tion for the relief of Student Kemp
about twenty years from now, when
the last degree is tacked to his name,
they will behold him cast adrift with
out a cent—William Cullen Bryant
Kenp. M. IX, A. 8., A. M.. LL. M„
LL. 8.. Ph. D., C. E„ E. E.. Mech. E.. !
E. M.. I'har. Chem.. B. S.. B. S„ B. S.
A Couple of Bulls.
In the report of a Dublin charity or
ganization the following paragraph ap
peared:
"Notwithstanding the large amount '
paid by the society for medical attend
ance and medicine very few deaths oc
curred during the year."
Which calls to mind the story of the
two countrymen who were passing an
eye hospital famous for its skillful op
erations.
"Jack," explained one of them im
pressively. "in there they'll take your
eyes out and put them on the table In
front of you and let you look at them."
LUDLOW'S GOOD LUCK
Millions In -Store For a Massa
chusetts Town.
DAZZLING FUTURE BEFORE IT
Magnfccent Windfalls Planned by
Charles D. Rood For His Native Vil
lage—The Worthy Poor to Be Aided.
Money For Absteminous Young Men.
The little town of Ludlow, not far
from Springfield, Mass., has a dazzling
future before It. After awhile SIO,OOO
is going to be distributed to certain of
its citizens.
After another while $317,208 will be
passed around, and finally, after a
third chance to get Its breath, $lO,-
193,195 will be bestowed on the Lud
low folks.
It is stupendous. There is only one
trouble. It's going to be an uncom
monly long time between chances to
quaff this golden llood. Ludlow, in
fact, is keeping quite calm.
According to the Village, Charles P.
Hood is the man who has planned
these magnificent windfalls for his
native village. Ho was born in Lud
low sixty-six years ago and still has a
summer home there. But at an early
age he left the place, went out into the
world and proceeded to mako gobs of
money, lie decided to give four gobs
to Ludlow.
The first one, amounting to SI,OOO,
will l)e placed at interest until the next
centennial of Ludlow's settlement and
then lie distributed among the worthy
poor of the town, especially in the cen
ter district. Certain sums to bo given
to every young man who has abstained
from the use of intoxicating liquors
and tobacco until his twenty-first birth
day are excepted.
Another SI,OOO will bo placed at in
terest and used in the second centen
nial in the same manner.
A. third SI,OOO will be placed at iß
te /est and used in the third coming
fentennlal under similar conditions.
Of the fourth SI,OOO the Interest is to
lie used perpetually and annually for
prizes for the best pupils in the differ
ent schools.
Tiiese ,jifis may look comparatively
small on their face, but when figured
out iti their ultimate proportions they
loom large. The next centennial of
the town will come sixty-six years
from next June. The first SI,OOO, in
vested at 3'i per cent interest, com
pounded semiannually, as is the cus
tom with savings banks, will amount
to $9,5"5 on the next centennial day.
As Ludlow has but 3.KSI inhabitants,
according to the census of 1905, and
the total number of registered voters
last year was less than 500, this sum
will provide adequately for the ab
stemious young men and the worthy
poor unless the town grows more rap-
Idly than it has grown in the last 134
years.
The second SI,OOO, Invested under
similar conditions, will yield $317,208
at tlie following centennial, 100 years
from now. With the knowledge of
this fund, which doubtless will bo
widespread at that time, the number
of nondrinking and nonsmoking young
men In town ought to be large enough
to give Ludlow a worldwide reputa
tion for the conduct of its youth.
But the grand prize is still a century
off. The third SI,OOO, invested at 3' j
per cent, will, in June of the year 2171,
when the time comes for Its distribu
tion. amount to the stupendous sura of
$10,193,195, increasing more than ten
thousandfold from the original sum.
The number of virtuous yotilig men
and worthy poor that can be provided
for with tills great fund would be
enough to make a respectably sized
city.
More than this, the town's bene
factor has provided for perpetual and
annual prizes for"the best pupils in
the public schools, annual relief for the
poor of the town. Independently of the
distributions of the large funds, an
nual assistance In the support, main
tenance and repair of the First Con
gregational church of Ludlow and the
payment of the pastor's salary.
There will be also annual distribu
tions of Bibles to baptized children
who have reached the age of seven
years and money prizes for Sunday
school pupils who have had a perfect
record of attendance for a year.
New Danger For Nurses.
Superintendent Frlsbee of the Pru
dential Life Insurance company re
lated an incident which greatly stirred
those present, embodying as it does a
striking exemplification of loyalty. A
few weeks ago Agent E. E. Searing of
the Newark (N. J.) staff, while in pur
suit of his dally work, was struck by
a trolley car and seriously injured.
One of his legs was broken In two
places, and his head was severely lacer
ated. Sick and all as he was—unable
to stand. Indeed—he actually got on
the job and secured from the trained
nurse attending him an application for
a SI,OOO twenty year endowment poli
cy, collecting the annual premium of
$11.97. As can readily be imagined,
the recitation of these facts aroused
the meeting to great enthusiasm and
applause for the grand old man.
Artistic Visiting Cards.
A pretty Idea in visiting cards is to
lie revived in Vienna by the Austrian
Ex Llbrls library. It is proposed to
have the cards decorated with a tiny
etching as well as the name, each de
sign being distinctive of Its owner.
The artistic visiting card, which was
customary In the eighteenth century,
would not only be a characteristic ex
pression of one's taste and tendencies,
but it would provide another object
for "collecting."
Wanted Himself.
One afternoon the proprietor of an
animal store said to his young clerk:
"Tom, I'm going upstairs to work
on the books. If any one comes in
SOT a live animal, let me know. You
can attend to selling the stuffed ani
mals yourself."
About half an hour later in came a
gentleman with his son and asked
lom if he could show him a live mon
key. To the customer's amazement
the clerk ran to the foot of the stairs
and yelled:
"Come down; come down, sir; yon're
wanted!"— Judge.
Ulster to
CajpftivKty
EASTEIt Sunday in a prison Is
welcomed as one of the great
days of the year, when there
Is a little extra Indulgence In
the way of eating and amusement and
some relaxation In the usual discipline.
The prison officials endeavor as far as
possible to make the day a little dif
ferent from the usual Sunday, though,
with the best intentions, • they cannot
do much.
Easter Sunday begins for the prison
ers at about half past 7, when the great
prison bell rings and the guards un
lock the cell doors. Away down the
corridor you hear a stamp, stamp, as of
an advancing giant Line after line of
black and gray striped figures march
out on their way to breakfast.
The mess room, with its rows of desk
like tables, capable of seating more
than a thousand men, looks like an im
mense schoolroom. At the end of each
table Is a great pile of bread cut in
thick slices, beside which stands a
keeper. Each man on taking his seat
finds before him a tin plate containing
his breakfast, a pint of coffee, a slice
of bread and a knife and fork. If he
wants any more bread be holds lip his
right hand and the guard nt the end of
the table passes It to him. By holding
DUETS AUE HEAIID.
up his plate or cup ho can get more
coffee or whatever there may be for
breakfast Waste is avoided, but no
man need go away from the table un
satisfied. After a busy quarter of an
hour the keeper in charge of the first
company knocks on the table, and the
men in his charge, some fifty or sixty,
rise at once and form into line, each
carrying his knife and fork in his hand.
The keeper takes his station at the
door, and as each man passes out he
must deposit his knife and fork in the
I'nv r>rnv<rto>l for (hut n.m«.
If the day is line, the men are march
ed around (he yard for half an hour,
still keeping their formation, and a
strange sight it is to see the long lines
of men marching in and out around
the buildings in endless procession.
Exercises over, away Ihey inarch to
the chapel, which, owing to the efforts
of the chaplain and his friends, is dec
orated with flowers and plants, dis
posed so as to hide as much as possi
ble the telltale bars and other sugges
tive Items. Each man as he enters re
ceives a printed programme of the
services, containing also the hymns to
be sung by the congregation. For
weeks previously the prison choir has
been practicing Easter music, and, as
a rule, the prison choir Is quite compe
tent to give as good a choral service as
those of a great many city churches,
there being no lack of well trailed
voices, even a male soprano voice be
ing far from unusual. The programme
is a great deal more varied and exten
sive than you would hear in a church
and partakes more of the character of
a sacred concert. Solos, duets, trios,
quartets and even quintets are heard,
varied by selections by a capital or
chestra and in some prisons a full
brass band. Often some of the pieces
are by some talented prisoner.
The religious services are brief, most
of the time iieing taken up by the
choir. The whole is over iu about an
hour and a half. Then comes the
march back to the ceils, each man re
ceiving as lie passes the mess room a
tin containing his aftcrnoou meal,
which consists of three hard boiled
eggs, some cold potatoes and a3 much
bread as he cares to take. Taking bis
place at the lever which locks every
door on that gallery, the keeper waits
until each man is In his place. At the
signal each door is closed with a bang,
snap goes the lever, and tifty doors are
securely lpcked. Then conies the count.
Each man stands liehiud his door,
which, being formed of iron bars, per
mits him to be plainly seen, and as the
keeper knocks with his key iu passing
answers "Here." A second keeper re
peats the count, and then for the pres
ent each man Is left to the enjoyment
of his own company.
At 12 o'clock the prison wakes up
again a little as the mess room waiters
pass from door to door with great cans
of boiling coffee. Soon all is quiet
again, and little can lie heard as the
afternoon drags along except the soft
footfall of the felt shod patrol or an
impatient sigh from a wakeful prison
er. At 5 o'clock fresh water is served
out to each man, and his lamp is light
ed. Slowly the time drags along until
0 o'clock, when at the striking of the
prison gong all lights are put out, the
great pclson is soon as quiet as a city
of the dead, and Easter Sunday has
passed.—New York Evening Post
Discounted.
"Papa," said the diminutive daugh
ter of a New York manufacturer, "If 1
bring your slippers to you every night
you come home, -will you give me 5
cents a week that I can have to
spend?"
"Yes, Catherine," her father replied,
feeling that such an arrangement would
teach her a few principles of regularity
and thoughtfulness.
"Well, then, papa, I thought of this a
long time ago, so I think you owe me
about 15 cents by this time."—New
York Times.
|L, 'i 1
NOTES rj
C.M.BARNITZ
RIVERSIDE . A
CORRESPONDENCE
SOLICITED U/V Jjff
..
THE POULTRY SNEAK THIEF.
Tho weasel as a sneak thief and
softly stealing assassin is beyond de
scription.
Silently gliding like a serpent, he
slips through an inch opening, bounds
on his harmless victim, sucks its blood
and wantonly cuts tho throat of every
fowl. The beautiful thrush, nestling its
young or on leafy branch caroling to
its Maker, is suddenly seized and its
trilling throat pierced by the fangs of
the murderer.
Ills technical name, putorius, from
"putor," "bad smell," is appropriate,
for, like the polecat, he throws off a
vile odor. Diminutive in size, ho is a
consolidated devil—a cross of deep
dyed villain, skunk and silent striking
copperhead.- Behold that long, lithe,
wiry, restless, quickly moving, muscu
lar body! That flat head, projected
from all the openings in his retreat
seemingly at once, sways from side to
side, like tho cobra ready to strike.
THE MUKDEIIEIS UNMASKED.
Above are the fearful jaws and
serpent fangs that cut the throats
of eighty chickens in one night. The
skin is drawn back to unmask tho
! murderous killing weapons and to dis
play the intricate network of muscles
that work the powerful jaws, which
make tho weasel the most dreaded
enemy of tho poultry keeper. Though
he weighs from five to eight ounces
and is from six to ten Inches in length,
yet this little sausage shaped creature
I Is much feared and formidable. lie has
| been known to lUII the eagle and attack
j a live prong buck.
I On Jan. 17 last a miner was ter
ribly lacerated <jnd bitten by a weasel
at Bear Valley shaft, Shamokln, Pa.
In the darkness the weasel seemed
| master, but miners, hearing the cries
l of distress, rescued their companion
and killed the weasel with drills and
shovels. This animal has been known
to kill six full grown hens, twenty tur
keys and eighty chickens in three
nights. Ilis victims aro not disfigured,
lie bleeds a rabbit between the eye and
ear, but has been known to chase one
into a stone fence and open an artery
in tho hind leg.
He will clean the rats and mice out
of a barn and bleed them the same
way.
He bites old chickens in the arteries
of tho neck close to the head. Young
chickens, pigeons and wild birds are
caught back of the neck and sucked
dry. If wounded, he will suicide by
sucking his own blood.
A hunter followed a weasel for
| twenty-five miles, the little animal
! stopping to kill only eight rabbits dur
i ing the race. At times lie would dis
appear and travel under the snow for
fifty feet. In this way lie kills many
quail that seek shelter under wind
falls, the farmers in the spring re
porting them frozen by the hard winter
weather.
Iu one night a hunter trapped a dark
brown, light red and white weasel. Tho
most common color is brown. Weasels
aro dark and light brown, dark and
light red, maltose and white. Maltese
are rare. T'.e weasel wears white It*
winter. O . the snow he can hardly
CAUGHT AT LAST,
be seen by his victim and enemy.
Ilis white fur is the ermine of royalty
and august courts, and tho dark spots
on these robes are the black tips of
weasel tails.
Tho mink and weasel should not lie
confused. Minks reach two pounds and
have half webbed toes. When a chicken
Is ripped from the neck down the
back, it Is neither a weasel, mink, rat
nor opossum, but a cooper's hawk did
tho damage. Weasels are born from
April to May, six to two to a litter.
The young ones are great poultry
fiends and are easily caught iu steel
traps. They are common "all over the
country, except in Arizona, New Mex
ico, southern California and the gulf
states.
DONTS.
Don't fall to advertise, but fall to tell
lies.
Don't use the same trough in all the
pens. Epidemic.
Don't buy medicated nest eggs for
lice. They are quackery.
Don't keep too many breeds. It
beats Kilkenny cats and will beat you.
Don't think how hard your work Is.
It brings on grumps and lazy prostra
tion.
Don't dust the mother hen with sul
phur. Makes sores and bifida chicks.
JOHNNY, GtT YER GUNI
Johnny, gtt ytr Run!
A weasel's in the pen;
Give It to Mm straight;
Don't shoot the speckly hen.
Hit 'im with the ax;
Stab 'it* in the collar;
The feller what fixes 'lm
'll git a ha'f a dollar.
You're a bully feller!
My hut you kin shoot!
Here's yer lia'f u dollar.
An' fifty cents to boot. *
Nail 'lm to the barn,
Warnln' to the rest;
Skunks an' Weasels Bit,
If yer know what's best.
Johnny's pulled his eun;
This hain't r.ary lie.
Better go a mils oroun'
Else yer want to die.
C. M. B.
t->ou i use rotten eggs tor nest eggs.
Your mother-in-law may get an old one
for breakfast. Then for a bust-up.
Don't expect a five dollar cockerel
for a dollar. Have you any real five
dollar birds for a dollar bill? We have
never bought any and would like to
try It.
Don't forget when chicks, ducklings
and poults appear that they should bo
kept separate from each other and the
old stock. The old gander will guard
the gosling.
Don't forget heredity. A crooked tall
on a hen puts a crooked tail on a cock
erel. Hat ditto. .V crooked beak on tho
cock puts a lopsided mouth on the pul
lets. Where did you get your crook
edness? t
Don't spend your time writing spring
poetry, but raise spring poultry. The
former will bring you an N'. G. check
I to your aspirations, but the latter will
j bring a check to pay for your wife's
Easter hat.
SETTING A HEN.
Test her first with doorknobs and
j corncobs. If her enthusiasm increases,
I arrange a roomy nest, so she may
turn and leave and return without
| breaking the eggs. Underlay the oat
| straw with tobacco stems and dust
| the hen with louse powder two days
| before you give her eggs and redtist
| the fifteenth day.
Hint.—A lien will not eat at once after
dieting and will soil the eggs if put
: back on the nest. Set ber in a
j secluded spot and you will get a good
I hatch If you have a good lieu, goo t
j eggs and you are a good fellow to
j tend her.
! Bill of Fare.—Whole corn, grit, wa
| ter, dust box; no green food, meai
| scrap nor mash. If you are faithful, it
[ will not bo twins nor triplets, but on
the twenty-first day she will serve a
i whole family of chicklets on the half
I shell.
FEATHERS AND EGGSHELLS.
| Ducklings, white clover and honey
j bees are a bad combination. Better be
i careful.
j To get a white flesh market chicken
! feed white ground oats and skimmilk:
! corn for yellow backs.
When you buy dressed fowls, if tho
j bird is healthy kick against a packed
crop. Too high for corn. It's against
j the law to sell packed crop chickens in
some states. Call the cop.
! It's common sense to keep lire ex
| tingulshers handy. It's 110 joke to
j grab a red hot incubator and fire it out
j side the fire zone. Swish, swash, hiss,
j and the extinguisher lias saved you
; from being beaten by the insurance
company!
j The yield of farm products for 1007
reaches $7,-112,000,000, or 5G.j7.000,000
| above 1900. The farmers' poultry did
| their part. Who got the big pull? "The
■ trusts," says the farmer. Yes; they
i play their trick, and the farmer gets a
j gold brick.
i Chickens that pick toward the sharp
j point of the shell seldom get out. They
j do not absorb the yolk; it bursts, and
j they drown. Sometimes a chicken will
! stick fast to the shell. You can help it
| to liberty, but the majority of these
| stickers have crooked backs, crooked
j necks and crooked feet and amount to
j nothing. If nature can do no hetter
j with such crooked material, can you?
j "Dear reader, if John Brown's pretty
! peacock gets over your fence and lays
| sin egg under your rosebush and you
j get it. whose egg is that?" "Mine, of
| course." "Yours? Well, prove it."
j "Oil, that's easy! I've got the egg, and
possession is nine points of the law."
| "Sure your right?" "Well, 1 guess,
j and If you weren't so pigheaded you'd
j see it." "Well, then, my dear, would
j It make any difference if that egg had
! been laid by a pretty peahen?"
j Who ever heard of a goose special?
i Well, then, Russia is ahead. A special
j goose train of twenty to forty cars
| steams over tho Russian border into
Berlin every day. Each car holds 1.2<>0
| cacklers. Imagine 48,000 geese honk
ing and hissing while a multitude of
I our good natured German friends bid
1 for them! Berlin's "goosey gander"
! bill is $2,000,000 a year. The German
| emperor relishes roast goose stuffed
! with onions, decorated with liquid hops
I This Is not leze majesty.
' Don't get your troughs and water
; vessels mixed. Roup, cholera, chicken
pox. canker, are contagious.
sliiiifi
Reliable
TIN SHOP
Tor all kind of Tin Roofing,
Spoutlne and Canaral
JoN Work.
Stoves. Moaters, Ran*oa,
Furnaces, «to.
PRICES THE LOWEST!
QUALITY TDE BEST!
JOHN IIIXSON
10. U» E. FRONT ST.