Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, March 25, 1897, Image 2

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    Although the tendency of money is
downward all over the world, it is
cheaper in New York than anywhere
else.
Mortgages on city property in New
York State amounted to 1980 million
dollars when tho last Government
census was compiled; Massachusetts
reported 145 and Illinois 114 millions.
One of the best-known South Afri
can millionaires has frankly told his
friends that he has no intention of
ever marrying, because he knows he is
so ugly that no girl would wish to
marry him except for money.
A German naturalist has curiously
developed the "scarecrow" idea. The
dragon fly is a deadly enemy of the
mosquito, and the naturalist has found
by many experiments that the dried
bodies of a few dragon flies suspended
by threads around a bed keep the mos
quitoes at a distance.
The Scientific American suggests
that on January 1,1900, a new division
of the year into thirteen months be
instituted, the first twelve months to
have twsnty-eight days and tho new
month twenty-nine days, and thirty in
leap year, and many calculations
would be simplified.
Fourteen centenarians died in Great
Britain last year, of whom eleven were
of the gentle, talkative sex, Bhowing
that loquacity promotes longevity,
and that however it may bo with the
new woman in that country, tho old
one holds her own, giving Father
Time a harder tussle than he gets in
his tussle with his own sex.
The Secretary of State for India has
made this strong statement: "The
Government of India cannot but ao
ltnowlege the great obligation under
which it is laid by the benevolent ex
ertions made by missionaries, whose
blamelesß example and self-denying
labors are infusing new vigor into the
stereotyped life of tho great popula
tion plaoed under English rule."
The evil of a large laboring popula
tion which passes back and forth from
Europe to this country and which
flows in and ont of Canada has become
most serious, maintains the New York
News. This remigration began thirty
years ago in the Seotoh building
trades, whose members by the hundred
worked in New York in the summer
and in Scotland in the winter. It ex
tended to other trades and other coun
tries. A very large number of per
sons, numbering at least 500,000,
move back and forth across the Atlan
tic, earning our high wages and enjoy
ing European oheap living. At De
troit and other points on our Canadian
border the same praotice exists in
daily remigration. The new immigra
tion law will put a stop to this and it
will greatly improvo the intelligence
of our immigrant population.
The most expensive book that was
ever published in the world is the oili
cial history of the Civil War, which is
now issued by the Government of the
United States at a cost up to date of
$2,331,328. Of this amount $1,184,-
291 has been paid for printing and
binding. The remainder was ex
pended for salaries, rent, stationery,
and other contingent and miscellane
ous expenses, and for the purchase of
records from private individuals. It
will require at least three years longer
and an appropriation of perhaps $llOO,.
000 to complete the work, so that the
total cost will undoubtedly reach
$3,000,000. It will consist of 112
volumes, including an index and an
atlas, which contains 178 plates and
maps, illustrating the important bat
tles of the war, campaigns, routes of
march, plans of forts and photographs
of interesting scenes, places, and per
sons. Most of these pictures are taken
from photographs made by the late 31.
B. Brady of Washington. Several
years ago the Government purchased
his stock of negatives. Eaoh volume
will, therefore, cost an average ol
about $26,785, which probably exceeds
the cost of any book of the kind that
was ever issued. Copies are sent free
to public libraries, and 1,317,000 have
been so distributed. The atlas cost
$22. The remainder of the edition is
sold at prices ranging from fifty cents
to ninetyeents per volume. But there
does not seem to be a large popular
demand, for only 71,191 copies have
been sold, for a total of $60,154, The
books can be obtained by addressing
tbe Secretary of War. The material
used in the preparation of these his
tories is taken from both the Federal
and Confederate archives, and is
purely official. The reports of com
manders of armies, corps, biigades.
regiments, etc., arc carefully edited
anu arranged so as to give a consecu
tive accounts of all engagements, with
as little duplication and unnecessary
in; terial as possible.
HELP THAT COMES TOC LATE.
'Tls a wirisomo world, this world of our 9,
With its tangles small and great.
Its weeds that smother the spring flowers,
And its hapless strifes with fate;
And tho darkest day of its desolate days
£Soes the help that como3 too late.
Ah! woe for tho word that is never said
Till the ear is too deaf to hear,
And woe for the lack of the fainting head
Of tho ringing shout ot cheer;
Ah! woe for the largird feet that trer. i,
In the mournful wake of tho bier.
What booteth help when the heart is numb?
What booteth a broken spar
Of love thrown out when the lips are dumb
And life's bark drifteth far,
Oh! far and fast from the alien past,
Over tho moaning bar?
A pitiful'thing tho gift to-day
That is dross and nothing worth.
Though if it had come but yesterday.
It had brimmed with sweet tho earth—
A fading rose in a de ith-oold hand,
That perished in want and dearth
Who fain would help in this world of ours,
Where sorrowful steps must fall?
Bring help in time to tho waning powers
Ere the bier is spread with tho pall,
Nor send reserves when the flags are furled,
And the dead beyond your call.
For baffling most in this weary world,
"With its tangles small and grant.
Its lonesome night and its weary days.
And its struggles forlorn Willi fate.
Is til at bitterest grief, too deep for tears.
Of the help that conies too late.
—Margaret E. gangster.
A ROMANCE OF
TWO CONTINENTS.
LOST RELATIVES.
Advertisements under this head will bo
inserted at the ra'.o of 6 I. a line.
McPHERSON, GEORGE.-A liberal ro
war I wi.l bo paid tc any person who will
.uruish information relating to the pr'sent
whereabouts of G sorge McPherson. who is
suppose Ito have left Engine tin 187'J Ho
is believed to have gone to nith -r Australia
or South Africa. The missing man wilfloarn
something to his a Ivautago by communica
ting wlih John Ronton, Trafalgar Buildings.
Charing Cross, London.
MAR 1 IN. AGNES.—One hundred pounds
will bo paid for information which will load
to the discovery of tho present whereabouts
of Agues 31 irllu. The young womau, prior
to her iiisaDpearimco from England iu 1879
WHS abo kuowu by her stage name of lim
Morton. Address John Jleaton, Trafalgsr
Buildings, Uhuring Cross, Loudon.—Lloyd's
Weekly. J
DENVER, Col., U. S. A., (
July 10, 1896. 1
DEAR SIR: Chanco led mo a few
(lavs ago to pick up a copy of Lloyd's
Loudon Weekly. The date of 'the
paper was a iittlo more than a year
old. As I glanced through its col
umns 1 saw tho notices which I en
close herewith.
I am in possession of several impor
tant facts relating to a certain George
McPhcrson, who is doubtless the per
son referred to tn your advertisemcut.
These I will communicate to yon
without expectation of rownrd. With
regard to tho woman, Agues Martiu,
whom you mention as having disap
peared in 1879—the year in whieh ,Uc-
Pherson left Englaud— I cannot speak
with authority. I have iu mind a
woman, however, who may have beou
the one you seek, but her name, ante
cedents and present whereabouts are
alike unknown to me.
The facts concerning George lie-
Pherson, which are at my disposal,
are scnrcely likely to ufford you satis
faction, and as they are assoc.ated.with
the darkest period of my life, 1 state
them with a most pronounced feeling
of reluctance. I cannot but feel,
however, that a knowledge oi tUo cir
cumstances of the ease may be of con
siderable importance to you, and that
I would be guilty of an act of injus
tice if, fur personal reasons, I with
held them.
in order that what I have
to say with regard to George
McPherson may be thoroughly un
derstood, it will be neeessarv lor
me to tell you a little of my personal
history.
I was born in Now York, and early
in life prepared to enter tho medioal
profession. After graduating from
Harvard I attended a medical college
in New York City, but before I was
admitted to practice I became in
volved in an unfortunate love affair,
which resulted in my leaving homo to
seek my fortune in Colorado. A few
months later, after a continued run of
hard luck, I made my way to Mon
tana, where I entered the service of
Humuei Freeborn, a prosperous ranch
man.
Despito his rough exterior aud gruff
manners, Freeborn possessed many
admirable qualities, and was exceed
ingly popular with the men in his em
ploy. Most of the latter were young
fellows who had drifted as I had done
from States east of the Mississippi.
They were a good-natured lot and
free from many of those belligerent
qualities whioh are generally credited
to the cowboys of the Weßt.
About ten miles distant from the
dwelling of Samuel Freeborn was the
ranch of Alonzo Marquand. For
nearly two years prior to my arrival
in Montana a feud had existed be
tween these two men, aud it frequent
ly happened that wuen their retainers
met in the course cf the general
"rouud-up" considerable ill feeling
had been displayed, though no blood
had been shed.
Freeborn had a daughter whose re
markable beauty and gentle mauners
were extolled by hardy men for many
a wide league around. Despite her en
vironment and laeK of opportunities
for intellectual development, Mildred
Freeooru was distinguished for her
maideuly grace and numerous ac
complishments. She was a capable
musician, and posse-sed an excellent
voice. As a conversationalist she was
vivacious and well informed. She
had a oareliilly selected library, whioh
Comprised several lmndrcd volnines,
and wae an industrious student. It
was well known that she had long
tried to prevail upon her father to
permit her to visit the East, and that
life on the plains was uncongenial to
her. Freeborn, however, was loath to
part for even a little while from the
one individual whom he found it pos
sible to love, and repeatedly declined
to permit her to leave him. Strange
as it may seem, no one among her
many admirers had had the temerity
to seek her hand. This may have
been duo to tho fact that a wholesome
respect for the choleric temper of old
Freeborn impelled them to keep their
distance, but it was more probable
that the spirit of reverence with
which the fair Mildred usually in
spired members of the opposite sox
bade them recognize their own un
; worthiness.
At tho time that I entered Free
born's service tho feud between Free
born and Marquand was at its height.
Marquand was a man of middle age
and questionable practices. Year by
year his once large fortuuo had grown
smaller and smaller, and ho was now
striving desperately to regain all ho
had lost. He was an inveterate gam
bler, and his ranch house was the re
sort of half the gamesters in the
county. Among tho men in bis em
ploy were several Englishmen who, it
was said, had certain tlark pages in the
history of their lives which it was to
their best interests to conceal. They
were not without future prospeots,
however, and night after night, when
not engaged with the herds, they were
to bo found sitting around "Lon"
Marquand's gaming table.
I had been on Freeborn's ranch
about three mouths when the timo
arrived for a round-up. A new cause
of dispute had lately arisen between
Freeborn and Marquand, and I had
been told to look for trouble.
One nigUt, while X was sitting alone
before our camp fire, awaiting the re
turn of my companions, 1 fell to
thinking of Mildred Freeborn. Since
1 had first met her she had interested
me greatly. She had taken to me
kindly, and often while 1 had been
sitting with the men in the dining
room of tho ranch house she had sent
Nettie, her servant, to me with the
request that I should visit her in her i
little library. Although I was eon
vinced that I occupied a high place in
her esteem, 1 was far from deceiving
myself with the thought that I had
inspired her with anything more than
a mere friendly regard. I was still
under tho influence of a former love
affair, and though I admirod and re
spected her 1 had felt no inclination
to offer myself as a suitor.
I had found her an interesting
study, however. In tho course of our
frequont conversations I had observed
that she was dominated by a spirit of
passionate unrest. The life she led on
the plains had become irksome to her.
She craved the social glamour and ex
oitements of cities, whioh she had
known only in tho books tho read. I
had lived in the unknown country and
was familiar with its customs and its
sights. When she sought my company
it waß only that she might hear de
scribed those things she so fondly
hoped ono day to see.
There were times when I grew weary
of her questioning, but hor thirst for
information was insatiate and she held
mo to iny task.
During tho iast few days, howover,
her conduct find undergone a change.
She had become more petulent in her
manner, and now seemed as desirous
of avoiding my society as she had
formerly been anxious to seek it. As
1 lav beside the blazing sticks, striving
to find some reason for her altered de
meanor, my reverie was suddenly in
terrupted by tho arrival of Tom Bax
ter, one of the cowboys who had been
branding cattlo during the afternoon.
"Wol, Diok," he drawled, ns he
seated himself carelessly beside mo on
the ground, "how's that thar coffee
comin' on? I'm all-fired hungry, an'
thar's lot o' hard work ahead fer us all
to night."
"What's up—anything special?" I
asked.
"Nope. I reckon thar's nothin'
what yer might call special, exactly,"
he said slowly. • 'Still, a fellow never
knows what's liable to happen when
these here Marquand boys is 'round."
He paused, aud ns I glanoed toward
him 1 saw au expression of gravity
steal slowly over his rugged features.
"Confound their blasted hides, any
how 1" he exclaimed impatiently. "I'm
ut'eerd one of the pesky lot is brewin'
a peck o' trouble fer our old man this
night. Wimraen's a funny lot—dog
gone 'em all, I say—an' ull bear more
watchin' 'an children will."
"What have women got to do with
it, Tom?" I asked, in surprise.
"A rcg'lnr howdv-do, that's what,
as you'll find out afore this round-up's
done, 1 reukon," retorted Tom, dis
gustedly.
"Surely you don't moan—" I began.
"Kin yer keep a secret if I tell it ter
yer?" he demanded, as he eyed me
curiously.
I looked at him questioningly.
"Kin yer?"
"Yes."
"Wal, then, just keep yer eyes
peeled fer trouble agin the sun goes
down termirrer night. That gal o'
Freeuorn's is a likely one, but fer all
j that she's preparin' to take tho bit
atweeu them glis'nen' teeth o' hern
J an' bolt her daddy's trail. One o' them
.Marquand boys—an English lad named
I MePherson—nas been shines on her
fer quite a spell. Of course, her old
i man wouldn't hove him 'round the
| place, but somenow or another they
j contrive to meet puity often, us if
I thar ain't a game of skip put up be
| tween 'em while tho old man's off ou
I tlie round up, my name ain't Tom fiax-
I tor."
j "Doesn't the old man suspect?"
| "If he did d'ye think he'd bo out
i here? Nope; ho doesn't know a word,
i Yer see, none of the fellers want to
tell him of it on Miss Millie's account.
I reckon, tkoogl he ought ro know.
Still, it aint no business of mine—ex
cept"—
He paused, and a deep flush suffused
his features.
"Wal, yer see, I was spoons on Net
tie a bit ago. But when I discovered
that some job had been on atwixfc Mo-
Pherson an" Net, an' that she thought
more o' McPherson than she did o'
me, I lassoed my feelm's an' kept 'em
from runnin' wild. I never knew quite
just what was on between them two.
Morherson had been at Marquand's
fer a month or so, when Nettie come
along and asked the old man if he
needed wimmin help about the place.
She was sort o' run down at the heel,
an' said she had no friends, so the old
man took her' in. Miss Millie took a
sort o' fancy to her, an' she's been
workin' up at Freeborn's over since.
"One night, while 1 was spoons on
Net, I seed her leave the house, an'
foller tho path to the little pastor' lot.
Thar' I see McPherson waitin'. When
Net come up to where he stood he
cussed her an' told her to be oif. She
didn't go, but dallied around him for
a while, a tryiu' to hug him, an' tellin'
all tho things she had given up fer him.
He answered her sort o' grulf like, an'
then turned away an' left her. Net
went back to the house, and bimeby I
see Miss Millie go out doors an' run
down to the pastur' jest us Net had
done. Thar' stood McPherson ag'n,
nn' they walked up an' down the
prairie for nigh a hull hour in the
monnlight. Wal', since then"—
Hero Tom paused, for we had both
marked tho approach of Freeborn.
The old man surveyed us kindly.
Then he advanced and laid his hand
on my shoulder.
"Dick, my lad, yer wont bo much
use out here to-night, fer yer look
clean tuckered out already. I want
ter send a message ter my Millie.
She'll be worryin' about me a bit, I
reckon, an' it'll make her mind easy.
Will yer take it?"
"Certainly," I replied.
"Yer ain't got 410 paper, hov yer?"
"No, but I will remember what you
tell me."
The old man hesitated and looked
I thoughtfully into the fire.
"Tell her," he began, slowly, "tell
her, 'Dear Millie.' Got that, now."
I "Yes," I replied with a smile that
was unperoeived.
" 'Dear Millie, tho cows hov been a
calvin' line. Marquand tried to swipo
a lot, but it wa'n't no go. I'm feelin'
fine. From your lovin' dad.' "
I repeated the message to hie entire
satisfaction.
"That's all right, my lad, and now
be off, "But, wait a minute—"
Ho paused and took a brand new
silver dollar from his pocket and put
it to his lips.
"Here 1 Tell Millie I kissed it twice
where tho woman is. She'll know
what I mean."
I turned away, and, after selecting
a fresh pony, rode oft toward tho
ranch.
It was a beautiful moonlight night,
and as I sped along the trail the words
of the simple message still sounded in
my ears, but as my heart warmed to
ward the allectionato father I began to
feel certain misgivings concerning my
reception by his daughter at tho
ranch. Tom Baxter's warning was
still fresh in my mind, and somethiug
within mo told mo 1 would bo too lato
to avert an impending calamity. I
thrust my spur further into the side
of my pony, and hastened faster on
my way.
At length the moonlight enabled me
to discover, about a milo distant, the
group of buildings on Freeborn's
ranch. Once more I urged my weary
animal to a fresh burst of speed and
was raoidly nearing my destination
when I heard tho lioof-beats of ap
proaching horses. Peering sourchingly
in front of me I saw two riders—a man
and a woman.
No sooner had I made Iho discovery,
howover, than I was conscious of the
fact that I, too, was perceived and that
it was the intention of the riders to
avoid me. They turned abruptly to
the right and started oastward across
the unbroken prairie ground. In a
moment I was after them.
That the horsewoman before me was
no other than Mildred Freeborn I was
assured. She was mounted on a tleot
Kentucky thoroughbred that had been
the gift of her father. Her com
panion, who was unknown to me, was
mounted on a Texas pony. Both ani
mals were fresh, and I was on the
point of abandoning the chase as hope
less when I peroeived that a difference
had arisen between Mildred and her
companion. The young woman seemed
disposed to draw rein and await luy
approach, while her companion ap
peared, by his gestures, to urge her to
greater haste. Her woman's will at
length prevailed, however, and, as I
drew more near they stopped their
horses and turned the heads of the
animals in my direotion.
Upon arriving at the spot whero
they awaited me, I reined in my ex
hausted horse and raised my hat. The
salutation was acknowledged by the
pale-faced girl to whom it was ud
dressed, but as I observed her closely
I saw tljat she hung her head.
"Miss Mildred, I am the bearer of a
message from your father," I said
coldly. "Will you rece.ve it here?"
She nodded, and leaping from my
horse I walked toward her and paused
beside her stirrups. Then I repeated
the simple message that her father ha l
bade me deliver uud placed the silver
dollar in her hand.
W hen I finished I retreated a step
or two and watched her expectantly.
In a few moments 1 saw the teurs
trickling swiftly down her cheeks.
Then she suddenly swayed in her sad
! die, and would have fallen had I not
assisted her to dismount.
Upon seeing the young woman in
my urrns her companion, who had
been regarding me with vindiotive
eyes, thrust his spurs against his
| horse's sides and started toward me
' with a curse.
j "Be off, or I'll fire I" he cried, it
his hand closed upon the revolver in
his belt.
Without making a reply, I strove to
disengage myself frbm the arms of the
woman who was now hysterically sob
bing on my breast. Before I was able
to freo myself, however, his weapon
was levolled at my head. I now per
ceived that any attempt to offer resist
ance would be futile. Besigning my
self to the inevitable, therefore, I
placed my arms .around the repentant
girl, and, looking her would-be de
ceiver fairly in the face, I awaited mv
fate.
For several moments we remained
thus, and I saw the eyes and brow of
the Englishman grow gradually darker
and darker.
"Take it, then," he hissed.
My brain reeled, a sickening sensa
tion of despair pervaded my body, and
my limbs trembled beneath me.
There was a loud report, but no
flame buret forth from the pistol bar
rel that had threatened mo. MoPher
son's weapon fell from his hand. Ho
reeled in his saddle and his horse took
fright. With a snort of alarm the
pony plunged madly forward and
made off. dragging its rider beside it
on the ground
Dazed and bewildered, I marked its
flight, and as I looked I saw a woman
standing a few paces distant. She, too,
gazed for a few moments after the
disappearing steed; then she threw
her arm across her face and staggered
toward a pony that wasstauding near.
This she mounted with difficulty, and
before I had recovered from my be
wilderment she was gone.
I assisted Mildred to the house, and
then went in search of Nettie, her
maid. Hor room was empty, nor did
I ever see or hear of her again.
On the following day the body of
Georgo McPherson was found on the
shore of a small lake about two miles
away. It was buried without cere
mony a few hours later near the spot
where it was discovered.
This is the extent of my knowledge
of the unfortunate man whom you
have sought. I was told by Mildred,
who is now my wife, that he repre
sented himself as being the heir to a
valuable English estate. We seldom
speak of him now, and my wife knows
little more of his antecedents than I
do. Regretting that it has fallen to
me to communicate to you the melan
choly particulars herein set forth, I
remain, respeotfully yours,
RICHARD HARCOURT, M. D.
—New York Journal.
SCIENTIFIC ANI) INDUSTRIAL,
No bird caD fly backward without
turning. The dragon fly can accom
plish this feat, however, and outstrip
any swallow.
Within the last fifty years the rate
of speed of ocean steamers has trebled
and the usual horse power increased
from 700 to 10,000.
The difficulty of registering the tem
perature of the bottom of the ocean is
due to the fact that at a great depth
the thermometers are crushed by the
pressure.
In a now French method thin nickel
tubes are made by depositing niokol
eleetrolytically on a matrix of fusible
metal, then molting out the latter by
immersion in a bath of boiling oil.
It has been recently established
that the fusel, etc., in raw spirits can
be removed by the introduction of a
current of pure oxygen. The flavor
of the spirit is not only improved, but
its physiological action is much amelio
rated.
A new bottle is blown with a solid
neck, tho opening being in the bottom
of the bottle, through whioh it can be
filled,but from which no liquid can be
drawn, it being necessary to break the
neck to remove tho contents of the
bottle.
The nearest approach of Mars to the
sun is 129,500,000 miles; his moan
distance, 141,500,000; his* greatest
distance, 154,500,000. Our mean
distance from tho sun is about ninety
three million miles. Tho nearest ap
proach of the two planets to each
other is 35,500,000 miles.
The electric furnace is now being
used at Charlottunburg, Germany,
for the production of ammonia and
nitrides. The nitride result from
exposing oxygon compounds of such
elements as silicon, boron,magnesium,
titanium and vanadium to the heat of
a high tension currout.in tho preseuoo
of free nitrogen aud carbon. Treat
ment of the nitrides with steam gives
ammonia and an oxide from which a
uitridh may bo re-formed as before.
Tho WaLrnnd Logenisel steel process,
which has boon adapted by quite a
number of European firms and by one
American establishment, is said to
differ from tho ordinary Bessemer
process in the addition of ferro silicon
to the metal in the converter at the
time of flame drop, and by an after
blow burning the silicon to a solid
slag instead of carbon to a gas. As
the melted metal is usually fluid, it is
especially suitablo for steel castings,
which are made solid and true to
pattern.
Where the ({tiakes Come From.
The greatest depth at which earth
quakes are l;no.vu to originate is aboui
] thirty miles. It has also been calcu
lated that a heat siiffioieuc to melt
1 granite might occur at about the same
debt.
Difference in llunils.
j It is a strange fact that the right
hand, which is more sensible to the
\ touch than the left, is less sensiui i
j than the latter to the effect of heat or
cold.—Boston Budget.
I The temperate man's pleasures are
i durable because they are regular, mi l
! all his life is oalm and serene because
| it is innocent.
There are from oight to ten species
of silkworms in this oonntry.
MANAGING SHEEP MANURE.
The best way to manage with sheep
in winter is to keep them at night in a
dry and storm-proof enolosure, bed
ding thorn well to begin with, and each
day spreading a little straw over that
which has become wet or soiled. The
thorough tramping which this manure
pile will get will prevent it from heat
ing, so long as the weather is cold.
But as it receives all the liquid as well
as solid excrement of the sheep, this
manure is very riob, and will heat
rapidly as soon as it is forked up and
thrown into heaps. It is usually got
out of doors for this, as the manure
needs all the rain that will fall upon
it. The pile should be turned over at
least once, so as to put the outside of
the heap inside, and vice versa. It
will then be considerably reduced in
bulk, and its strawy material will be
decomposed into mould. Suoh ma
nure will be better for any kind of
crop than the piled-up horse and cow
manure that has been decomposing
half the winter, and has in its centre
lost muoh of its value by fire fanging.
FIRST-CLASS BUTTER.
Not half the people that might pro
duoe a June quality of butter in
winter, are doing so. For successful
winter butter making, it is neoessary
to have good milk, a proper dairy
apartment in which to eliminate tho
cream and preserve its quality, and
the application of modern uniform
rules of butter manufacture to the
making process. Only the few try to
produoe butter above the average
grade. The majority are indifferent,
or partially so.
Never for a moment imagine that
dairying will pay il one milk pail will
bold the yield of three cows at a single
sitting. Find out whether suoh a
condition is due to poor breed, laok
of teed, or both. Having located the
cause of the trouble, it may take a
year or several of them to make a
dairy yield the amount of milk that it
ought to. When this point is reached
it is possible an entirely different set
of cows has been seoured and quite
probable that a radically different
system of feeding then adopted. In
the meantime, remember that the bane
of average winter butter is the ruin of
its flavor by stable odors. By keeping
the atmosphere of the winter stable
pure and sweet, not only are bad
odors banished, but the health of the
itock is assured as well. 1 )
Concerning the necessary surround
ings at the farm house for tho manu
facture of winter butter, muoh will
depend ou oircumstanoes. Bight
principles must govern in all cases,
however. An equable temperature in
the dairy room; scrupulous cleanli
ness; the use of pure solublo salt;
relianco on the thermometer, and a
strict adherence to modern batter
making methods, should be the guides
rigidly tollowed. Sterling winter
butter can thus be produced in an im
provised dairy room. Bemember, the
maker is always sure to gain by at
tempting to improve in butter mak
ing, just as success follows improve
ments in other undertakings.—Ameri
can Agriculturist.
CARING FOB CREAM.
Milk may be set for cream in various
kinds of vessels and under different
conditions. The poorest method iB to
set in shallow tin pans or crocks on
pantry shelves or in a cellar. Milk
thus set is exposed to a greater air
contact than when set otherwise, and
so is more liable to bo nffeoted by
injurious odors, by diseases trans
mitted through the atmosphere, and
by heat and cold. Milk so set will
oftentimes rapidly sour, or in very
cold weather may freeze. If it sours
badly in summer, when skimmed,
curds will be likely to get in the cream
and remain more or less in the butter
after churning, forming white spots,
thereby seriously injuring the quality
of the butter. Or if the milk or cream
freezes, an inferior grade of butter
will be made from it.
If cream is to be]sec.ured by setting
milk, the best plan will be to sot tho
milk in round tin cans, about eight
een inches deep and eight inches in
diameter. If the oan is placed in ice
water or cold spring water, to the
height of the milk in the can, the con
ditions for cream separation will bo
greatly improved, especially if inside
a refrigerator or creamer. This
method helps keep the milk at a uni
form temperature, and 6nableß the
cream to rise to best advantage. Such
cans as these, open at the top, are
commonly known as "shotgun" cans,
and may be bought of dairy-supply
houses, or can be made by any good
tinner.
These deep cans are skimmed in ono
ot two ways, either by a conical skim
ner from the surface, or by means of
a faucet or valve at the bottom of the
can, where the skim milk is drawn off.
In experiments at the Indiana station,
in comparing those two methods of
skimming, where themilk was skimmed
from above thero was an average loss
about twioe as great as in that
skimmed by drawing off from below.
During fifteen days in February the,
average loss from surface skimming
was .34 per cent., while that skimmed
from below showed a loss of but .17
per cent.
It is important that milk should be
set only in tin vessels of good quality.
The cheap tin sold on five and ten
cent counters is so thin a wash that it
is readily corroded by tho under
metal, whioh gives a ruinous flavor to
the milk if it sours in the vessel at all.
Where used for holding milk the tin
should ba of XXX grade. This is
more durable, stiller and less allected
by the aoid in sour milk.
In general, persons striving to make
a fine quality of butter should have a
cabinet creamer. In this the milk
may be kept to best advantage and
properly protected from objectionable
odors and dirt.—Bulletin Purdue Uni
versity Experiment Station.
HEARING ANGORA KIDS.
The following is from the admirable
paper on how to succeed in the Ango
ra industry, by G. A. Hoerle, late
Seoretary American Mohair Growers'
Association:
If kidding in winter, the ewes
should have a good warm stable, and
their grain allowanoe may be some
what increasod, but on } pound bran,
i pound oil meal and a pound corn
meal or middlings, nud -1 to three
pounds hoy per day, any ewe can raise
her kid and keep fat. If a warm
stable and the necessary food can be
provided, kidding in winter may be
considered most advantageous, but'
simply a shed to protect them against
rain would not be sufficient every
where, and without warm stabling
and extra feeding, kids should not
drop in Texas, and countries of simi
lar character, before the new foliage
is beginning to appear, to enable the
ewe to supply the full quantity of
milk neoeßsarv for the young kid's
rapid development. As soon as the
kid has dropped, take it with its
mother to a protected place, shed or)
barn; drive a stake, with a soft string
attached to it, into the ground, and to
the other end of the string tie oue of
the kid's legs (changing legs twice a
day to prevent lameness). Loave the
mother with her young one, until she
otters herself to go out with the flock ;:
she will come back to the kid when
the flock returns. After about two
weeks the kid may be allowed to run
loose in the barn and pen; and as
soon as it can jump a twelve-inch
board it may go out with the flock;
and help earn its own living. During;
the first few weeks kids are more ten
der than lambs, but BB SOOU RS they
are strong enough to jump about.they
can be raised far more easily than the
best lamb,und the percentage of losses
is exceedingly small, even in winter
time ; in fact, there need not be any*
unless caused by accident.
Should any kid or goat get chilled
by injurious exposure to oold rains,]
force half a teaspoonful of whisky*
with two or three drops of ginger,:
down its throat; rub its body, espe
cially the back, with alcohol andi
Spanish pepper and then put it in a
quiet place, warmly covered. If in
an hour's time no improvement is per
ceptible, repeat the dose. You then]
may have a drunken goat for a<
while, but nine out of ten times it wilt
be a live one, and after a day or two
in as good spirits as it ever was. Kids'
ought not to be weanud until they are
4} months old, unless they are un-l
commonly strong, but they should be!
taken away from their mothers when/
five months old, especially the male:
ones. Though both sexos will often!
breod when six montbsold and earlier,/
they ought to bo kept apart until they
reach the age of at least fifteen)
or sixteen months, if you want tcf
raise well developed, strong animals.,
As a rule, thoroughbreds and high
grades have only oue kid and only ona
a year, but it is said that at the Gape
of Good Hope and in somo regions o<
Asia Minor, twins are quite frequent.
An Aruiy oil fa per.
The British a-my looks well oil
paper, soys the London Court Jour
nal. According to the latest return,]
our army at home and abroad musters
the very respeotablo total of 221,000,
exclusive of the Beserves. Of this
number nearly 106,000 are at home*
about 76,000 in India, 4000 in Egypt*
the remuinder being distributed over
the Mediterranean garrisons nnd the
colonies. At home, in round num
bers, there are 26,000 troops in Ire
land, 4000 in Scotland and 76,000 in/
England and Wales. Tho Bengal com
mand has the greatest share of the
76,000 men in India. This district
takes up 24,000; the Punjaub, 29,000;
Madras and Burma, 14,000 ; Bombay,
16,000, tho remainder being on pass
age. In South Africa there are about
5000 men. Tho garrisons at Gibraltar
and Malta absorb over 14,000 men,
the West Indies about 3000, the West
African colonios, 1000; Hong Kong,
nearly 3000; the Straits Settlements,
1500; Ceylon rather more; Mauritius,
1000; Halifax, Nova Scotia, 1500;
Bermuda, 1500; Cyprus, 150, and St.
Helena, 300.
A Canglilcrn! o A'ei lib >r.
The late Joseph Willard, of Wash
ington, pos-essed some rare aud pecu
liarly lovable qualities, it is relate 1
of him that a capitalist once desired
to ereot an expensive building on a
lot in Washington owned by Mr, Wil
lard, but the latter refused to sell the
property, saying that the Italian fruit
vender, who had been on tho corner
for five or six years, did not want to
be disturbed. He also owned three
office buildings in Fourteenth street.
He had several requests from persona
who desired to rent up stairs portions.
But he always refused, saying the
presenco of people up stairs might
disturb General H. V. Boynton, the
well-known newspaper correspondent,
who had an office below.