Freeiand Tribune
Established 1888.
PUBLISHED EVERY
MONDAY AND THURSDAY,
BY THE
fRIEUNE PRINTING COMPANY. Limited
OFFICE: MAIS STIIEET ABOVE CESTEE.
FUEELAND, PA.
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iu the Tribune PrinLnj Company, Limited.
Glasgow, Scotland, in its twenty
five years of munioipal ownership of
the gas works, has spent $6,000,000
in improving the gas plants it bought
for $2,600,000, and has paid off half
the debt, accumulated a sinking fund,
reduced the price of gas from $1.14 to
$0.54, and earns $150,000 per year
net in the city.
The heroes of the Spanish-Ameri
cau war whose bodies now rest in Ar
lington Cemetery, Washington, came
from every section of the Union, and
each newly made grave is a pledge
and assurance of an indissoluble bond
of national unity under the Stars
and Stripes. Those brave men who
gave their lives for thoir country in
Cuba aud Porto Rico did not die in
vain.
Under authority given by a law
just enacted by the Michigan Legisla
ture, the Common Council of the city
of Detroit has appointed three com
missioners with power to buy the
street railways of that city and man
age them on municipal account. The
voters of Detroit several years ago,
when the question was submitted to
them, decided iu favor of municipal
ownership of the street railways. The
new law goes farther by providing for
municipal management as well as
ownership.
The world is so surfeited with ma
chinery, it hears so constantly of new
machines invented and of old ones per
fected, that people forget that evolu
tion iu any new line of machinery is
almost as slow and painful and full of
failures as evolution in animals—at
least when directed by men. The bi
cycle and tho American trotter, so of
ten contrasted as rivals, afford an in
teresting study in comparative devel
opment. They are nearly of an age;
the trotter perhaps ten years older,
with the pacer considerably younger
than the bicycle. And the bicycle is
one of tho simpler forms in mechanics,
much more so than a watch, or a thresh
ing machine, or a printing press.
Looking at the bicycle from tho jioint
of viewof the present act accomplished,
it seems as if it might have been pro
duced in a few years. Yet it is thirty
years old, and the latest development,
the chainless geariug, is the growth of
the last two years; and while the bi
cycle now seems as near perfection as
we may attain, no one iu the light ol
pa3t events would dare declare it so,
Rliling a IVlinle.
A story comes from Cutler, Me., to
the effect that William Davis, a lob
ster fisherman, recently had a brief
ride on the back of a whale. Mr.
Davis was in n small boat, fixing his
lobster traps, near Libby Island, when
a great whale's back loomed out of
the water only a tew feet away from
the boat. The giaut creature began
to spout and the spray from the col
umn of water blinded the fisherman.
In a few seconds the boat had drifted
on the whale's back, and before Davis
could make a motion toward escape
the whale flapped its tail, nearly fill
ing the boat with water, and disap
peared in the deep sea. Davis re
ported that the whale was from sixty
to ninety feet long. It was the first
seen in the locality for several years.
Experiments have been made lately
by French Government officials with s
new telephone, which enables persons
to converse without putting their
mouth and ear to the apparatus, the
words beiug distinctly audible iu any
part of the room.
The Chinese tael is a coin which has
never existed. It is simply a unit
used for convenience.
Won.® Than New Tort.
In the first four weeks after the
opening of the electric railroad at
Cairo, Egypt, it is said that no less
than eighty persons were killed, and
since that time the weekly average
has been seven or eight. This very
high rate of casualties la supposed tc
ho due in part to the Imperfect sight
of many natives in consequence of the
prevalent eye diseases, but fully as
much to the fact that they are un'a
miliar with such swiftly moving ve
hicles.
It requires $100,000,000 capital to mnkt
candy for our nearly 80,000,000 inhab
•tants.
f^fpetioo
-1
STORM AND SUNSHINE,
I Mist upon tho mountains, and mist on field
and plain.
But ever sunlight gloaming in tho silvery
drops of rain.
Should any heart bo sorrowful, and sigh
ing, still complain,
I When tho mist but fills tho lily-cups for
honey-bees to drain?
Unknown, In all our sighing, Love Is lead
ing us to light—
See, where tho groat sun glimmers o'er the
iron hills of Night!
And all the swoethoart-roses—for all the
storms that boat,
i Aro blooming for tho lips of Love in many
i a red retreat!
! ipefoieieioieiee; mewum joaetasiesa^
fjTlje Strange Story |
II of M. Smythe. |
| jk ComrUed by John G. Row., From the h'arra
ye tiro of John Smythe Baxter, Grandson $
1 ay of the Hero of the Adventures Sr
J £2 Uerem Recorded.
gold fever was
I attracting "all sorts
' " 1 and conditions of
men" to the newly
jpgjPjßjWt) discovered fields of
Victoria in the year
i 1851. Rich and
<y~A j poor alike of every
nation, as the read-
V jer doubtless a1 -
A. ready knows, threw
aside their ordinary
} occupations to flock
to the then infant
colony and start
digging for tho precious metal. To
such an extent did immigrants pour
into Victoria that the arrivals in Mel
bourne are said to have numbered
over two thousand a week. The crews
of all the ships in Melbourne Harbor
at the time of the news of the first
finds deserted to a man, and ship
masters and shipowners were at their
wits' end to know how to get men to
work their ves;,'s home again from
Australia.
It was during tho first excitement
of the rush to the gold-fields that the
sailing vessel, Chesapeake Bay, ar
rived in Melbourne from Liverpool.
| Her crew were no better than those
i of the other ships in port, and among
| the first to desert and run away to the
j "diggings" was the hero of this
authentic narrative, an able seaman,
| named John Merrydew Smythe. This
man had at home in England a wife
and daughter, the latter a child of
seven at the time. Smythe, along
I with others, who, like himself, had
high hopes of making their fortunes
in a very short space of time at the
{ mines, succeeded in making his way
! to Ballarat—tho El Dorado of that
period.
He did not 3tay long in the town it
self, however, but started prospecting
with, at first, very indifferent success.
But after some months of dogged per
severance and somi-stnrvatiou he at
length "struck it rich," as the saying
goes. Iu less than nuothor half-year
lie had got a tidy sum of money out of
his claim, aud was able to send 81000
homo to hi 3 wife. Sho started in busi
ness for herself in Liverpool as a
broker, and prospered from tho very
commencement, so that she was soon
! in very comfortable circumstances.
I Her husband, however, instead of re
turning homo to England and enjoy
; ing tho fruits of his labors, continued
to work his claim until he had amassed
{ quite a respectable fortune.
All was going well with him, when
ihe suddenly took to drink aud
! gambling. He sold his claim for
| §ISOO, and from that day forth haunted
the drinking saloons and gambling
dens, which were as plentiful in
Ballarat at that time ss blackberries
in autumu. The town was full of the
| scum and refuse of civilization—the
sweepings of tho earth—attracted
thither by the universal greed for
gold; and such places did-a roaring
trade, all day and all night as well.
Smythe, fuddled with liquor, would
| stake handfuls of his hard-earned gold
On tho mero turning of a card. Yet,
as his vile associates often swore, he
J had "tho devil's own luck." He al
ways won, somehow, and never rc
turued home without being richer by
| scores of pounds. Undoubtedly, he
j would have frequently been robbed
ns ho left the gambling snloou,scarcely
able to walk through his deep pota
tions, had he not hud the staunchest
aud truest of chums in his partner—
i steady-going, temperate Joe Mauuion
; —who piloted him homo safely every
i evening, and a3 regularly emptied his
' pockets of most of the money aud
banked it for him.
] Aftor about two years of this wild,
! reckless life, Smythe saw the error of
Ins ways, and, bidding good-bye to
Ballarat aud its evil associations, he
| made arrangements with his bankers
1 to forward his money to England. Ho
| then made his own way to Sydney
| (185-1), intending to return home.
To this end lie booked a passage
aboard tlio vessel Western Star, and
sailed for England.
When only a few weeks out the
ship encountered very heavy weather,
; and finally ran on a reef off the Falk
land Isles. Tho captain aud six
teen of his crew were drowned,
but Smythe and throe others
i —tho carpenter, a seaman and au
apprentice lad named James Roche
—succeeded iu battling their way
through the surf and making the shore.
! Here they were met by savages, who,
however, received them very kindly,
i and cave them food and drink.
They lived among these natives tor
no less than two years on the friend
liest terms—that is to say, Smythe,
the sailor, and the boy did; for the
carpenter fell ill and died some
months after their escape from the
wreck. One day a barque put into
the island for water, and when a boat
came ashore, Smythe and his two
white companions ran down to the
water's edge and bailed its occupants.
These latter, however, wero seized
with a panic at the sight of the three,
whom they mistook for savages, as
they wore no clothes (like the natives),
and the boat's crew thought their
frantic gestures and shouts were evi
dences of dangerous hostility.
Scrambling pell-mell into the boat
ngain, they wore pushing off in a great
hurry, when ono cf thoin perceived
that the skins of the supposed savages
were white. Still the sailors did not
fcol inclined to stop and parley, so
they shoved off and rowed out a bit
into the bay.
When they had put a small stretch
of water between themselves and the
shore, they lay on their oars and one
of them commenced a palaver with the
white savages, whose actions whilst
tho boat was being rowed away from
them would certainly seem to have
warranted tho supposition that they
wero unfriendly—not to say frantic.
But when Smythe hailed the boat's
crew, in English and explained how
they had been cast away there, the
sailors plucked up courage and rowed
back. The three Crusoes were then
taken into the boat and rowed out to
the ship, whose captain at once prom
ised to take them back to Sydney
(1836). He was ns good as his word,
and Smythe and his companions in
misfortune were lauded in that port.
1 It was well for Smythe that he had
taken the precaution of having his
money sent to England by the bank
officials, othorwise it is only right to
I believe he would have lost it with tho
sinking of the Western Star, and been
thrown on his own resources for a
bare living again. As it was, though,
he still had his snug little fortune iu
the bank, and was able to draw upon
it. He purchased a complete outfit,
which he wanted very badly, for he
had come away from among the savages
without even a shirt to his back, and
once more ho booked his passage to
England, this time in the steamship
Great Britain. She was bound for
Liverpool—Smytho's native place—
with a cargo, passengers, and specie.
After a pleasant voyage of nearly two
months she came iu sight of Old Eng
land (1857), and now the most extra
ordinary misfortune of all befell our
luckless hero.
Smytho's reason actually became
unhinged at the sight of the shores of
his native land, the thoughts of all he
had gone through, and the bitter re
flection that ho had never once writ
ten to his wife since he sent her that
SIOOO some years previously. The
unfortunate man went raving mad,
anil the captain of the Great Britain
had to place him in confinement. Ou
the ship's arrival in Liverpool ho was
handed over to tho care of the police,
who, alter making futile inquiries for
any of his relatives, eventually sent
him to Kaiuhill Lunatic Asylum, out
side Liverpool.
Wo will now, with the reader's per
mission, leave Smythe in the asylum,
and go back to his wife. She had
long since given up tho broker's estab
lishment and left tho old locality, hav
ing removed to Aigburlh. Hero sho
mado the acquaintance of Captain Jose
Diaz, who was tho master of the
Spanish steamship Porto liico. In the
lull belief that her husbund was dead,
Mrs. Smythe married Captain Diaz,
and a child was born, a sou, who was
christened Charles. Moauwhile, Mag
gie Smythe, her daughter by her first
husband, hud grown to be a woman,
and received soveral oilers of mar
riage, which, however, she decliued.
In 18G2, Mrs. Smythe's second hus
liiud, Diaz, lost his life by drowning
in tho Coburg Dock, and, curious to
relate, it was in 18G2 that the long
lost husband and father, Smythe, was
discharged, perfectly cured, from tho
asylum.
The unfortunate man paid an early
visit to his bankers, and, having easily
proved his identity, learned he was
entitled to the very tidy fortune of
$95,000. During the several years he
had been immured iu the asylum his
origiunl account had been steadily ac
cumulating by means of compound in
terest. Ho now sought his wife and
daughter, but could find no trace of
tliein. Tho old homo knew no more,
aud no one in the neighborhood could
be expected to bo cognizant of tlieir
whereabouts, seoing tho long time
that had elapsed siucc their residence
there.
Smythe, however, spared neither
efforts nor money to find his loved
ones, but without success. Ho was
at length obliged to abandon the quest,
and settled down quietly into private
lite, taking a house, which, as it hap
pened, was situated within less than
half a mile from the door of those he
never expected to see again on this
side of the grave. But most strange
and incomprehensible are the work
ings and ways of the Almighty. In
such extraordinary coincidences, as
the one we are now about to relate,
we easily trace His guiding hand.
John Smythe, one Sunday morning
in 1863, attended early Divine service
at St. Nicholas' Church, and, among
the several wedding parties present,
he was particularly struck with the
face of one of the brides. Somehow,
he thought it straugoly familiar, and
this idea grew so strongly upon him,
that lie determined to wait and ascer
tain her name. Lingering until after
the servico, he was gratilied by hear
ing the names of the respective par
ties called out by the officiating min
ister, and presently heard the names,
Margaret Merrydew Smythe and John
Baxter, pronounced. Simultaneously
a wild cry rang through the church,
and thfc (all of a heavy body was heard.
The sudden revelation was too much
for the poor old man, and ho had
fainted away.
He wao carried into the vestry by
those around him, and restored to
consciousness, when he quickly made
his identity known. His daughter's
amazement and delight can be bet
ter imagined than described, we
think, at this unlooked foj
reunion with a father she had so long
mourned as dead; and we venture to
say that a more dramatic incident
than their meeting would not be found
in the pages of the most sensational
romancist.
Maggie Smythe took back with her
from her wedding not only a husband,
but a long-lost father as well. We will
pass over the meeting between that
husband and wife, who had not looked
upon one another's faces for so many
years. _
John Smythe and his helpmate,
Hannah, both lived to a good old age,
and their daughter, Mrs. Baxter, is a
happy wife and mother in Liverpool
at this moment—or perhaps, I had
better say she was, for it is some
years since I first learned the story I
have recorded above.
Charles Diaz, the half-Spanish step
son of the old sailor-Crusoe, is now an
officer in the Mercantile Marine; and
James Roche, the one-time apprentice
of the Western Star, who spent two
years with John Merrydew Smythe,
among the Falklamd Islanders, was,
the last time Mr. J. S. Baxter saw
him, chief mate of the old packet ship,
Isaac Webb. He attended the funeral
of his old shipmate, Smythe.
THE SAMOAN AT HOME,
When Not at War They I.rail Very Easy
Hnil Agreeable Lives.
When native Samoans are not at
war they seem to foreigners to have o
very easy and agreeable life. There
is never very much to do, and what
there is is not arduous or tiring. The
old women, for instance, braid mats,
or sit upon the rocks and beat and
strip the bark for making tapa, the
native cloth. The brewing and per
fuming of coeoauut oil is another in
dustry in which women play a prom
inent part. The men spend much
of their time in making fishing nets
and tackle.
In spite of the simplicity of the na
tional attire, the Samoans are rather
vain and spend a good deal of time in
beautifying themsslves. The hair is
often plastered with white lime, giv
ing it, when dry, the effect of a white
wig. The lime is washed off by night.
The result is a gradual change in the
color of the hair from a red to a
bright yellow. Apart from this
strange fancy the Samoans quite share
the European ideas in regard to
beauty. They particularly admire
tall persons.
The common dress for men and
women is a simple kilt, the manner
of whose adjustment seems to for
eigners nothing short of miraculous.
The natives seem tohaveno difficulty,
however, in keeping the garment in
place. The children are less sure of
themselves and often lose the bit of
calico that serves as outdoor costume.
The brown babies wear no clothing at
all.
A fad of the young man of Samoa is
to wear the namo of his sweetheart
tattooed upon tho forearm. As the
Samoan wears no sleeves this orna
ment is always visible, and ho is very
proud of it, which is easily under
stood, as tho young lady herself al
ways does the tattooing, it being im
possible to intrust to a professional
workman a task so full of sentiment.
He Knew If.
Rent (lay in Paris is a very impor
tant occasion. The landlord is king in
a realm where exactitude is not only
encouraged, but enforced. An Eng
lishman says he once went to see the
landlord about some matter counectod
with tho house which he had hired.
The Frenchman proved to be a very
suspicious and inquisitive old gentle
man, who had made his fortune in the
candle trade.
"What do you sell?" he inquired.
Tho Englishman acknowledged that
he made his bread by writing for tho
magazines. The landlord shrugged
his shoulders.
"I am afraid," said he, "that you
will not ho exact with your rent on the
fifteenth of the month."
He evidently had old-fashioned no
tions of literature, as well as other
arts, and preferred that his tenants
should be, like himself, comfortably
in trade. So in order to vindicate his
vocation, the Englishman went in per
son to call upon his landlord on the
fourteenth with rent in hand.
"I told you so!" exclaimed the pre
cise old merchant. "I knew you
wouldu't be exact, at tho day or hour
fixed. You have brought your rent
twenty-four hours too soon!" Ci
ncinnati Enquirer.
New I*roceH of Photography.
Tii bo in the swim one must have
one's photograph taken by the new
process, which gives a raised surface
like has relief. For the lover who
yearns to enrry his sweetheart's pict
ure always with linn these new photos
may bo reduced to fit into a small
locket. The newest fad in these
locket or watch photos is to have a
small magnifying gla33 set into the
cover, which when opened releases
the glass by means of a spring and en
larges the portrait to a most lifelike
appearance.
Renting Room* in u Mexico City.
Strangers sometimes mildly wonder
wliat newspapers or sheets of blank
paper are tied on the windows or bal
conies of certain houses for. A sheet
of paper thus arranged is a sign mean
ing that there are rooms (r,let in the
house on which it is displayed, and is
just as significant in its import as
three golden halls over a pawnbroker's
shop are in other countries.—Mexican
Herald.
FARM AND GARDEN.
Feeding Bran With Cnrmneal.
Where out feed is fed to horses, a
mixturo of corn and oats ground to
gether makes the best meal to put on
the cut and moistened bay. If tho
oats are not to be had, grind tlie corn
and mix the meal with twice its bulk
oi wheat bran. Cornmeal alone is too
heavy a feed to put on cut hay, but
mixed with bran and tliewliole chewed
as cut bay is sure to be, the saliva
from the horse's mouth will be mixed
with it and enable it to digest without
fermenting in the stomach. When we
fed corn and oatmeal on cut hay to
horses, we usually put in some bran
also, and think the hoises liked it bet
ter, as the combination of the three
feeds gave the whole a very appetiz
ing flavor, especially as hot water was
used to moisten the hay.
narrows and Hakes in Corn Culture.
As soon us the corn is three or four
inches high, I put on a large smooth
ing harrow which covers three rows,
letting the team walk astride the mid
dle row. After the harrowing is com
pleted let the boys go over it and un
cover any plants that may have been
pulled'down or covered with the har
row. This work can be done by means
of small hand rakes made as follows:
For the head take a piece of board
lxl J inches. On one edge drive four
inch wire nails one inch apart. For a
handle use an old broom handle or a
rake handle out to fhe proper length.
Cross harrow in about eight days,
if the corn is not too large, and un
cover with a rake as before. After
this discard the harrows and use one
horse cultivators for the remainder of
the season, going over the ground at
intervals of from eight to ten days,
according to the weather, whether
weeds are present or not. This mode
of culture may seem cruel to some, as
dehorning cattle or severely pruning
an orohard. However, it has been
my plan for the last two years, and
my neighbors all admit that I have
one best cornfields in our part
of the count-v. Scarcely a hill is miss
ing and the hold is perfectly clean.
Some may want to know how tho
corn escaped the fate of the weeds in
its early treatment. Tho weeds at this
stage are on the surface and a single
stroke of the harrow turns them out
and if not completely destroyed, tho
second stroke eight days later will kill
them entirely, while the corn on the
coutrary has been planted two or three
inches deep. The roots strike down,
and aro so thoroughly get by tho time
the plant is from three to five inches
high that a very few hills will be dis
turbed l>y the harrow. The ground is
thoroughly stirred around the roots,
which is a benefit to the crop after
ward. On light, loamy land, care must
he taken to use n light harrow.
For corn ground all strawy manure
or stable should be well plowed un
der. If this lins not not been done
the harrow will be clogged and the
cultivator interfered with later. The
more frequent the rainfall the more
frequent must he the cultivator, for
the crust must bo broken as soon as
possible after the rain. A light har
row on corn sown broadcast for feed
will prove beneficial. This harrow
ing should always be followed by the
raking so as to uncover tho hills that
may have been disturbed.—J. AV.
McEenzie, in New England Home
stead.
Cliarretl Grain For Stock.
It is always customary with farmers
who feed much com to fattening hogs,
to give them a little charcoal daily, to
correct acidity arising from its fer
mentation in the stomach. It is fre
quently taken from the wood stove,
using the remains of fires that have
died down before the wood was wholly
converted into carbonic gas and ashes.
It is the ashes mixed with Lliis charred
wood which corrects acidity of the
stomach. As for the coal itself, it is
only partly burned vegetable fibre, and
even when charred it cannot furnish
More nutriment than would be found
in sawdust from the same kind of
wood. Charred grain, of which only
the outer husk is vegetable fibre, is
mucb better, and by charring carefully
it can be fed in quite large amounts
with docided advantage, as it is quite
fattening, besides not being likely to
cause souring of the stomach. If pop
corn is not thoroughly dried, many of
the grains will not open showing the
fleecy whiteness of the starch they
contain, and as these grains will nat
urally fall to the bottom of the popper
they are likely to be burned. Both
hens and fattening hogs will eat these
charred grains with great avidity. A
still bettor grain to char is the oat, as
it contains moro of tho strength giv
ing and egg producing nutrition than
does corn. In charring oats for hens
and we think also for hogs, it is best
to exposo tho grain to enough heat to
burn off part of the husk of the grain.
Tho oats w ill then lie eaten with avid
ity, and if the grain is itself charred
it will be a nitrogenous charcoal from
which the more easily burned carbon
has been removed.
Iu extreme cases, as when a horse
has colic or a cow lias bloated, grain
that is pretty thoroughly charred may
be given, but only in small amounts,
and to restore tone to the stomach. It
shttuld not be continued nor given
very often, as the effect of potash
which tho charred grain contains is to
debilitate tho stonlaeh instead of to
strengthen it, \\"e never gave charred
grain except very rarely to any ani
mals except what wo were fattening,
and then only to correct evils of diet,
which wo learned afterwards to avoid.
A few weekH before fattening hogs
were to be killed, it makes them fatten
better to give them some charred grain
with their other food. But we would
not give charcoal to a breeding sow or
to any other animal that we meant to
keep long except to a hen. The giz
zard of a hen is so strong that it prob
ably does no harm to punish it with
some charred oats, which with the hull
burned off are as good as wheat, and
are perhaps even better. In the cold
est weather in winter we have fed
charred oats to both fattening hogs
and to poultry while the grain was
still warm. They wer very greedy
for this warmed grain, yet it is proba
bly really no better for them than if
the grain were eaten cold. Taking
hot victuals and drinks into the stom
ach is bad for human digestion, and it
also probably is for the digestion of
animals.—American Cultivator.
Cream lclpenlne and Butter Flavor.
The process of cream ripening is a
kind of fermentation, just as the
formation of alcohol or vinegar is a
fermentation. The cause of the fer
mentation which takes place in cream
is the growth and development of an
immense number of bacteria. The
proper ripening of cream takes place
when the right kind of bacteria pro
duce the fermentation, and the pro
cess is allowed to proceed to exactly
the right point. Some bacteria pro
duce substances that give fine flavors,
others produce butter which is almost
worthless. The chemical nature of
the substances constituting the flavor
iB not known, but it is probable they
are decomposition products from the
milk sugar. Hundreds of creumeries
are losing thousands of dollars each
year, because cream ripens im
properly, due to injurious kinds of
bacteria. Considerable trouble can
be avoided if the creamery operators
use the proper mothods. One of the
lowa dairy school instructors is often
sent to creameries that are unable to
produce the desired quality of butter
and he assists them to fix the trouble
and provide a remedy. The methods
this instructor geuerally uses to cor
rect these faults are to require strict
cleanliness about the buildings and
utensils, rejecting milk which has not
beon cared for in snch a manner as to
prevent it from becoming tainted, and
by the uso of good starters. These
are all applications of the principles
of bacteriology.
Good, cleau milk is absolutely
essontial to produce the best results.
No buttermaker can take milk foul
with dirt and filth and all that goes
with them nnd make a first-class
product. There are, of course, cer
tain ways iu which such milk can be
improved nnd serious results some
what uverted. What we want to pro
duce a good butter flavor is cream
that will sonr with no other taste,
especially of unpleasant taints sug
gestive of filth contamination. To
secure this there are two points to be
always kept iu mind: First, unde
sirable fermentations must bo kept
out; the second point to be kept iu
mind is desirable fermentations must
be present, i. e., those which cause
souring. Simply keeping bad flavor
out is not nlways sufficient. The
germs which produce a good flavor
must be added if not already there.
This is accomplished by the uso of
starters.
As used in dairying a starter is a
portion of milk or buttermilk contain
ing a large number of the germs of
fermentation supposed to give a good
flavor. The purpose of its use is
sometimes to husteu the souring, but
its greatest valuo is in controlling the
flavor. I consider the uso of u startor
as absolutely necessary if the butter
maker expects to make uniform high
grade butter. Under the best condi
tions, that is when the milk is clean,
free from filth bacteria, as is more apt
to be in summer, butter can bo made
with no startor probably sometimes
just as good as with one, but at least
iu the statu with which I am most
familiar, it is impossible to make good
butter in the winter time without a
starter. When a starter is iu the proper
condition it has a sharp acid taste, with
no unclean or disagreeable taste or
odor. It does not whey oil as soon as
it thickens, but remains in a solid
curd with no bubbles showing gas.
The only way to tell when a starter is
right is by taste and odor, nnd the
user should learn to judge this cor
rectly. The temperature at which
milk is ripened is not so material if
tho ripening is stopped at the proper
stage. It can be ripened at fifty-five
or ninety degrees. At high tempera
ture it must be watched very closely,
as ripening advances very rapidly.
However, prefer about seventy to
seventy-five degrees in the winter
and sixty-five to seventy-five degrees
in the summer. Some means of test
ing the acidity of the cream is very
useful. When not sour enough the
butter shows a lack of flavor; if
ripened too high tho flavor is some
times rancid.—C. H. Eckles, lowa
Dairy School, in tho Amoricau Agri
culturist.
Extinction of tlie I'rnirlo-Chlckcn.
To-day tho reign of the old-time
"chicken dog" is done iu America,
aud the day of tho great brown grouse
is also done. One can see no future
for this, one of the most noble, though
easily the most helpless, of all our
game birds. To-day tho centre of the
chicken country is no longer al
Dwight. It moved West from Illinois
into lowa, then up into Lower Min
nesota, then a short way into lower
Dakota. It crossed tho sand hills of
Nebraska aud the wheat belt of Kan
sas, tarried for a long time in the In.
diati Nations, aud then dropped
swiftly down across the State of
Texas. I should be disposed to say
that to-day it is perhaps located iu
some of tho lower tiers of counties of
Texas, and closer to tho Gulf const
than most persons would imagine.
There are some prairie-chickens left
in Wisconsin, yet more iu Minnesota,
aud, together with the sharp-tailed
grouse, these birds yet furnish sport
in widely scattered localities over
North and South Dakota aud Nebras
ka.—Harper's Weekly.
TAKI C IT TO HEART.
Ther- are tw t rts of people who bother
That I lint-- t look Into the news;
There'- tin- • i with the ready grandilo
quent flew,
Who aev- r known to refuse
A char. ■■ 1 "Ut and make comments
about
Al things a.. eon heaven nnd onrth;
Who -oars d who bores till you really
doubt
W.iether 11 ■ not more work than it's
wortb.
And it.cat-- re" the other who could if he
would
Clear up t - e nfnslons which fret;
"bo p. . these dark problems so •
well u 1 i- i '-rod
If In- did .1 .le to forced
It's entirely ior inult If my hair's turn
ing gi r
And mv-i -li -..-row saggv and woak—
Tlie person i i a Iks nnd has nothing to
suy
Al- 1 tho ,er who knows nnd won't
speak.
—Washington Star.
HUMOR OF THE DAY.
"If Wiggins called yon a liar you
ought to make him prove it." "What
good won 1-1 that do?" Chicago Rec
ord.
"V. hat ! .nd of a tree is the hardest
to olimh ' a ker the teacher. "One
that hain't ; >1 no limbs," little Albert
replied. - Uicago News.
"I don'; see what is to become of
all these new doctors!" "Oh, new
microbes are being all the time discov
ered."—Detroit Journal.
" V\ ou you call Uncle Amos a
stingy i!f .:i ■ "No, I should say he
bad all his generoui impulses uuder
perfect oo trol " —Chicago Record.
Jones "You needn't be afraid to
pin - that book in the hands of your
children Smith—"H'tnl I guess
yo don't ; -,w mychildren."—Brook
lyn Life
She- I'm sure I've cast my bread
on the 1 many a time, and I don't
set- any re tits ' He—"No; I guess
you or ■ i would sink, dear,"— -Yon
kers Sta smau.
"The idea of her having ihe nerve
tc lorn lie first sawtlielight in 18T8."
"I w. not judgo her too harshly.
F-'rhnii- sic meant the are light."—
Indianapolis Journal.
Miss P.—"lf he really loves me, as
yon say, why should ho bs sileut?"
Miss S.—"He maynotbe ina position
to get married." "But he knows I
am."—Detroit Free Press.
An editor at a di iner table, being
asked if he would mice some pudding,
replied in a fit of abstraction, "Owing
to a crowd of other matter, wo are un
able to find room for it."
"When your parents first refused
me yonr hand I was so wretched that
I wanted to throw myself out of the
window." "And why didn't yon?"
"It was so high!"—Lustige Blaetter.
"Ah, yes," shesighed, "I'm saddest
when I sing." "Then," he replied,
"you must he an exception to the
rule." "What rule?" "The rule that
people are oblivions of their own de
locts."—Chicago News.
"How do yon, manage to find yonr
way across tho ocean?" said a lady to
a sea captain. "Why, by a compass.
The needle always points to tho
north." "Yes, I know. But, what if
you wish to go south?"—Tit-Bits.
The Artist—"A flattering likeness!
No, indeed, Mr. Cashleigh. It's only
the matter-of-fact, stingy, purse-proud
man of pedigree we artists have to
flatter. The artistic, generous, mod
est, self-made man, neverl"—Brook
lyn Life.
Mr. Staylate—"l hear your mother's
step on tlie stairs, and I shall ho nble
to bid her good night." Sleepy Eeau
ty (wearily)—"lt can't lie mother,
Siio's a lato sleeper. Probably it is
the servnnt coming down to light the
fire."—Standard.
The whizzing autotruck may come, tho
horseless carriage, too;
Tho elements may do the work tlint horses
now must do;
llut as long tie men keep striving on for
fortune or for fnmo
You will lluil that moaey'll nlways make
tho rnaro go, just the same.
—Chicago News.
"What I can't understand," re
marked Billies, "is how Tottenham
died and didn't leave a debt in the
world." "Oh, well," responded
Sloops, "folks sometimes do that."
"Yes, I know," continued BilHes,
"but just think how popular Totten
ham was. Everybody liked him, and
that's why I can't understand how he
came to die without owing one cent of
borrowed money!"— London Judy.
About Cold Storage Game.
Dr. Robert T. Morris has con
tributed valuable testimony to the
movement against the use of eold
storage game. It is proved that the
selling by restaurants of frozen game
results iu a much greater slaughter of
birds tbau would be the case if only
enough were shot to supply the mar
ket during the open season. Frozen '
game is distinctly inferior to fresh
birds. It lacks juiciness, while being
so fiat in tasto that any one with a
normal palate nnd tho slightest
knowledge of game can tell the dif
ference at the first mouthful. It iB
now recoguizod that cold storage
game is not served at any decent
restaurant, as its lost flavor keeps
away tho most desirable class of
patrons. Dr. Morris proposes that
every first-class restaurant will find
it to its advantage to state on the
menu that no cold storage game is
served, to imperil the stomachs of its
guests.—Chicago Record.
The Editor and Her Gowii.
"We, the editor, were dressed in
black and white,' nnd wore an ermine
cope lined with brocade, aud a large
black picture hat with white feathers!"
A correspondent sends us tho cutting
from n Sunday pajer of a loading ar
ticle on the recent Women Journalists'
Matinee containing the above marvel
lous sentence. As our correspondent >
says, "it is a grand attempt to com-
bine the personal with the anony
mous." —The Academy.