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ADVERTISINC RATES. THE HERALDI .Avrieet netdatet~.X pe squ onenef i n IS PGBLISHED or e sequen e EVERY WEDNESDAY MORNINGNotices ofmeetings,obitariesandtrites EVER WENESDY MRMNG I olm restsmetenpercse a oar At Newberry, S. C. Special notices inloa.lmn1cet BYAdvertisements not marked wth the num Editor and Proprietor. ad d .a r y. Specialecontracts made with -large adver Terms, $2.50 per .lnnul tysers,withuberaldeductionson above rates Invariably in Advance. A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets, &c 25,- The per is stopped at the expiration o015 a w time for =49chit is paid.WE N S A MO NN ,D C M E 2,185No 51TemCah - The >< mark denotes expiration of sub- Vol. XI. WEDNESDAY MORNING, DE Fcription. LITTLE FiNGERS. Busy little fingers, Everywhere they go; Rosy little fingers, The sweetest that I know. Now into my work-box, All the buttons finding, Tangling up the knitting, Every spool unwinding! Now into the basket, Where the keys are hidden, So mischievous looking, Knowing it forbidden. Then in mother's tresses, Now her neck enfolding, With such iweet caresses, Keeping off a scolding. Darling little fingers, Never, never still, Make them, Heavenly Father, One day do Thy will. TEE TWO KEIGHBORS. One evening as the twilight was dusking into deeper shades,farmer Welton stood in his door-yard, with sA ~gun in his hands, and saw a d' coming out from his shed. It was not his dog, for his vas of a light color,while this was - surely blaek. The shed alluded to was open in front, with double doors for the passage of carts, and a wicket for pedestrians at the back; and this shed was part of a continuous sauetare c6nnecting-the barn with the house. Around back of this ho'use was the sheep-fold. There had been trouble upon f.rmer'Welton's place. Dogs had been killing his sheep and some of th' very best at that,. He &.-d do elarid-in his wrath, that he would shoot the first stray dog he found -'0rowling around his premises. On this evening, by chance, he had been carrying his gun from the house-to the har, when the ca nine intruder appeared. Aye, and in the barn he had been taking the skin from a valuable sheep 'which had been killed and mangled with tigerish ferocity. So, when he saw the strange dog coming through his shed, he brought the gun to his shoulder, --and, with quick sure aim, fired. The dog gave a -leap and a howl aDd having whisked around in a circle, two or three times, he bounded off in a tangent, yelping painfally, and was soon lost to sight. "Hallo! what's to pay now, Welton ?" S"Ah-is that you, Frost ?" "Yes. Been shootin' somethin', aint ye ?" "I've shot a dog, I think." "Ye-:s. I seed him scootin' off. It was Brackett's, I reckon." Before the farmer could make * any further remark, his wife calL ed to him from the porch and he went in. Very shortly afterward a boy -and a girl came out through the shed, as the dog had came. Down back of Welton's farm, distant half a mile, or so, was a saw and grist *mill, with quite a little settlement aroud it; and people having oc casion to go on foot from that sec tion to the farms on the hill could cut off a long distance by crossing Welton's lot. The boy and girl were children of Mr. Br'ackett. When they reached home they were met by a scene of dire -confusion. Old Carlo, the grand old 2Newfoundland dog-the Sloving and loved-the true and the faithful-had come home s h o t. through the head, and was dying. The children threw themselves up on their shaggy mate, and wept and moaned in agony. Mvr. Brackett arrived just as the dog breathed his last, One of the older boys stood by with a light ed lantern-for it had grown quite dark now-and the farmer saw what had happened. "Who did this ?" he asked, groaningly.. "John Wejton did it," said Tom Frost, cong up at that moment. "lie's been losin' sheep, an' I 'guess he's got kind 'o wrathy." B3ut my dog never killed a sheep -never! lie's been reared to -care for sheep. How came he down there ?" "He went over to the mill with o Sis and me," said the younger boy, r sobbing as he spoke; "and he was running on ahead of us toward r home. I heard a gun just before S we got to Mr. Welton's, but oh! 1 didn't think he could have shot 0 poor Carlo!" Mr. Brackett was fairly beside himself. To say he was angry 6 would not express it. He loved I t that dog-it had been the chief' I pet of his household for years. I Re was not a man in the habit of x using profane language, but on e the present occasion a fierce oath es- t caped him; and in that frame of i mind-literally boiling with hot t wrath and indignation-he s.arted S for Welton. e John Welton and Peter Brackett had been neighbors from their r earliest days, and they had been i friends too. Between the two fam ilies there had been a bond of lovo t and good wil[,and a spirit of frater- t nal kindness and regard bad mark- I ed their inter,course. Both the far- r mers were hard-working men, j with strong feelings and positive t characteristics. They belonged to I the same religious society, and sympathized in politics. They f had had warm discussions, but s never yet a direct falling out. Of the two, Welton was the more r intellectual, and, perhaps, a little more tinged with pride than was his neighbor. But they were both i tLearty men, enjoying life for the s good it gave them. Mr. Welton entered his kitchen, r and stood the empty gun up be hind the door. "Whvt's the matter, John?" his wife asked, as she saw his c troubled face. V "I'm afraid I've done a bad C thifi?"re replied regretffilly. "I r fear I have shot Brackett's dog." "Oh, John !" t "But I didn't know whose dog it was. I saw him coming out e from the shed-it was too dark to c see mo,re than that it was a dog. ii I only thought of the sheep I had o lost, and I fired." n "I am sorry, John. 0, how L Mrs. Brackett and the children will a feel. They set every thing by old Carlo. But you can explain t it." t "Yes-I can explain." l Half an hour later Mr. Welton b was going to his barn with a light- C ed lantern in his hand. lie was a thinking of the recent unfortu- b nate occurrence, and was sorely C worried and perplexed. What a would his neighbor say ? He e hoped there might be no trouble. t He was reflecting thus when Mr. Brackett~ appeared before him, n coming up quickly, and stopping t with an angry stamp of the I foot.t Now there may be a volume of e electric influence even in the stamp v~ of a foot, and there was such an t infldence in the stamp which I Brackett gave; arid Welton felt 0 it, and braced himself against it. I There was moreover, an atmos- r phere exhaling from the presence t of the irate man at once repellant 6 and aggravating. I "John Welton ! you have sh ot t my dog!'" Thbe words were hissed e forth hotly.a "Yes," said Welton, icily. "How dared you do it ?" "1 dare shoot any dog that comes prowling around my build- c ings, especially when I have had I my sheep killed by them." - i "But my dog never troubled a your sheep, and you know it." f "How should I know it ?" - a "You know that he never did J harm to a sheep. It wasn't in a his nature. It was a mean, coward- [ ly het, and (an oath) you shall t suffer for it !"e "Brackett, you, don't know to e whom you are talking."a "0 ho !" (another oath) "We'll find out! We'll see! Don't put t Ion airs, John Welton. You ain't t a saint. I'll have satisfaction, ifa I have to take it out of your !hid!"~ "Peter, you'd better go home I and cool off. You are making K yourself ridiculous." I: Now, really, this was the un - kindest cut of all. Not all the mad words of Brackett put to- J gether were so hard as this single t entncea and John Welton nutle 11 the bitter sarcasm of tho com iand into it. Brackett burst forth into a tor ent of invectives, and then turned way. Half an hour later John Welton cknowledged to himself that he ad not done exactly right. Had he, in the outset-in an wer to Brackett's first outburst old the simple truth-that he ad shot the dog by mistake ; that e was sorry; and that he was 'illiog to do anything in his pow r to make amends-bad he done his his neighbor would probably ave softened at once. But it was oo late now. The blow had been truck; he had been grossly insult d; and he would not back down. Mr. Brackett was not so much efiective. He onlyfelt his wrath, 7hich be nursed to keep it warm. 'hat evening he hitched his horse : a job-wagon and went down to he village after a barrel of flour. [aving transacted his store busi ess, he called upon Laban Pep er, a lawyer, to whom he narra ad the facts of the shooting of is dog. Pepper was a man anxious for ,es. He had no sympathy or oul above that. "You say your dog was in -com any with two of your children ?' "Yes." "And this passage over Mr. Velton's land, and through his bed, has been freely yielded by im as a right of way to his eig h bors ?" "Yes, sir, ever since I can re iember." "Then, my dear sir, Welton is [early liable. If you vi ill com e ith me, we will step into Mr. arfield's and have a suit com ienced at once." Mr. Garfield was the trial jus. ce. All this happened on -Friday vening. On Saturday it had be. me noised abroad in the farm. ir district that there was not n I y serious trouble between eighbors Welton and Brackett ut that they were going to law bout it. On Sunday morning John Wel >n told his wife he would not at and church. She could go if she ked. She had no nxeed to ask er husband why he would not go t. She knew he was unhappy, nd that he could not bear to meet is old neighbor in the house of 'od while the dark cloud was up n him. iNor did she wish to meet ither Mr. or Mrs. Brackett. So bey both stayed at home. Peter Brackett was even more iserable t h a n John Welton, bough perhaps he did not know it. [e held io close companionship be very worst demon a man can mbrace-the demon of wrathful engeance; and in order to main sin himself at the strain to which e had set his feelings, ' e was bliged to nurse the monster. e did not attend church that day, tor did his wife. Two or three imes during the calm, beautiful abbath,as he glanced over toward is neigh bor's d welling, he foun d imSelf wishing that he had not one to see John Welton in such eat of anger ; but he put the rish away, and nursed back his trath. On Monday, toward noon, the onstable came up from the vil ge, and read to John Welton an nposing legal document. It was summons issued by Win. Gar eld, Esq., a justice of the peace nd quorum, ordering the said ohn Welton to appear before him, t two o'clock, on Wednesday, at is-office, then and there to answer o the complaint of Peter Brack tt, etc. The officer read the sum ions and, left with the defendant ,copy. It was the first time John Wel ou had ever been called upon o face the law. At first he was we-stricken, and -then he was roth. He told himself that he vould fight it to the bitter end. Ld now he tried to nurse his rath, and became more unhap y than before. On Tuesday evening, Parson rely called upon Mr. Welton. 'he good man had heard of the rouble, and was exceedingly ex ,ised in asirit. Both the men were of his flock, he loved and re- I spected them both. He sat down ' alone with Welton, and asked him i I what it meant. "Tell me calmly and candidly f all about it," he said. After a little reflection, Mr. Wel- i ton told the story. He knew. the J old clergyman for a true man and r whole-hearted friend, and he told t everything just as he understood t it. "And neighbor Brackett thinks a even now, that you shot the dog v knowing it was his ?" V "I suppose so." I "If you had told him the exact s facts in the beginning, do you h think he would have held his an- I ger ?" In This was a hard question for I John Welton, but he answered it n manfully. t "Truly, parson, I do not think I1 he would." "Were you every more unhappy n in your life than you have been since this trouble came ?" o "I think not." k "And,if possible,neighbor Brack- lb ett is more unhappy than you." m "Do you think so ?" o "Yes. He is the most angry and vengeful." f A brief pause and then the par son resumed: 81 "Brother Welton, with you are needed but few words. You are a a stronger man than brother Brack- y ett. Do you not believe he has c a good heart ?" .n "Yes." t "I wish you could.show him how t true and good your heart is." "Parson !" h "I wish you could show him ti that you possess true Christian ii courage." ii "Parson what do you mean ?" t' "I wish you had the courage to meet him and conquer him." I "How would you have me do I it?" "First conquer yourself. You h are not offended ?" g "No. Go on." r And *thereupon the good old b clergyman drew up his arm chair e and laid his hand upon his friend's y arm, and told him just what he b would have him:do. He spoke a earnestly, and with tears in his a eyes. "Brother Welton, have you the s heart and courage to do this ?" s The farmer arose and took two or three turns across the floor; g and finally he said: - a "I will do it !" ii * * * * * k On the following day, towards ~ the middle of t-he forenoon, Peter s Brackett stood in his door-yard' c with his head bent. He was think ing whether he should harness his horse and be off bsfore dinner, li or whether he would wait until s afternoon. He could not work; t he could not even put his mind to ordinary chores. "I wonder," he said to himself, s "how the trial will come Gut ! I s'pose Welton 'Il hire old Whit man to take his case. Of course 5 the office '1l be crowded. Tom i Frost says it's noised everywhere, 8: and that everybody 'll be there. Plague take it ! I wish-" His meditations were interrupt ed by approaching steps, and on n looking up he beheld neighbor o Welton. b "Good morning, Peter." Brackett gasped, and finally an- a swered ; "Good Morning," though rather crustily. Welton went on, frankly and b pleasantly*:. "You will go to the village to- t day ?" "I s'pose so." b "I have been summoned by Jus- a tice Garfield to be there, also; t but really, Peter I don't want to ii go. One of us will be enougb. t Garfield is a fair man and when n he knows the facts he will do what is right. Now, you can state them as well as I can, and ~ whatever his decision is, 1 will U abide by it. You can tell him that d I shot your dog, and that your dog had done me no harm." "Do you acknowledge that old Carlo never harmed you-that he L r never troubled your sheep ?" in quired Brackett, with startled sur prise, iarm to anything. 1 am sure he vould have sooner saved one of ay sheep than have killed it." "Then what did you shoot him br ?" "That is what I was just coM- T ,g at, Peter. You will tell the ustice that I had lost several of iy best sheep-killed by dogs bat I had just been taking be skin from a fat, valuable retber that had been so killed nd mangled-that 1 was on my ray from my barn to my house, -ith my gun in my hand, when n saw a dog come out from my bed. My first Lbought was that 3 e had come from my sheep-fold. P t was almost dark and I could 0 ot see plainly. Tell the Justice 8< had no idea it was your dog. I cl ever dreamed that I had fired tl 2at cruel shot at old Carlo until 'om Frost told me ?" d "How? You didn't know it was iy dog ?" a "Peter,have you thought so hard ' E me as to think that I could nowingly and willingly have s armed that grand old dog? I c ould sooner have shot one of my b wvn oxen." e: "But you didn't tell me so at p rat. Why didn't you?" il "Because you come upon me so- r )-suddenly-" b "0, pshaw!" cried Brackett,with - stamp of his foot. "Why don't ou spit it out as it was? Say I ime down on you so like a bor- 9 et that you hadn't a chance to i iink. I was a blamed fool! iat's what I was." "And I was another, Peter; if I adn't been I should have told you ( 1e truth at once, instead of flar- i ig up. But we will understand e now. You can see the Jus ce-" "Justice be hanged!-John ang it all! what's the use? 'he-e !-Let's end it so!" - From the window Mrs. Brackett ad seen the two men come to- 0 ether and she trembled for the I sult. By and by she saw her a usband, as though flushed and o _cited, put out his-hand. Mercy! I !as he going to strike his neigh- p or? Sbe was ready to cry out f< ith affright-the cry was almost pon her lips-when she beheld a v ene that called forth rejoicing in- o sead. And this was what she o She saw these two strong men A rasp one another by the hand,' p nd she saw big, bright tears roll- e: ig down their cheeks; and she i new that the fearful storm was o assed, and that the warm sun- k bine of love and tranquility would 2 me again. STREET SLANG.-"Learn to tlk ke a gentleman, my boy. I am c rry. to hear you talk 'streeta lk.' .Do quit it." g "What is 'street talk,' papa ?" "What did you just now say to ster ?" "I told her to be quiet."a "But you said 'hush up,' and rid it very loud and rudely. ~ that did you ten minutes ago , ty to Martha !" "I told her to go out of my c "But you did not say it half s icely as that. You said 'Get out f this.' And I think you called er some name." Harry looked ashamed, but he nwered: "I called her a dirty snick." "Just so. That is what 1 meana y street talk; all such coarse vul- a ar words and especially the rough a, >n and manner, you hear on be street. They belong to those ci oys who have never been taught g ny better, and to those men who dough knowing better, yet do ot care anything about the bet- . 3r way, But my boy should ever use street talk." A Cincinnati tramp advertises V r a "partner, to learn the busi- s ess, and do the Western country u uring the Fall season." The amount of sand paper an- r nally produced in the United ~ tates is estimated at 200,000 g eams. True affection grows stronger p s it grows older. The same may c o said of an egg.t iceUaneons. SUPERPHOSPHATES. HEIR PRACTICAL USES-REDUCED PHOS PHATEs, COMBINED WITH HOME MA TERIALS AND POTASH-PRESENCE OF ABUNDANT VEGETABLE MATTER IN TE SOIL NECESSARY TO ENSURE GOOD RESULTS. The words Superphosphate, Acid 'hosphate, and Dissolved Bone, all Lean one and the same thing, viz: one Phosphate of Lime, treated ith and rendered soluble by sul huric acid, by which a certain part f the bone phosphate becomes >luble in water, and, as a matter of >urse, more easily assimilated to ie wants of the plants. The quality of a dissolved bone epends, on the fineness with which ie boneis ground, and the strength ad quantity of sulphuric acid with hich it is treated. The greater the percentage of >lubility the greater the value of the >mpound. To enable the farmer ) comprehend the values of the sev ral Superphosphates, Acid Phos hates, or Dissolved Bones, offered the market, we give a very accu. itely calculated table of values, ken from a circular in our han Is: Total value of cgige Super-Phosphate. a Value of Z.1$$ Sulphate of Lime. * I Also has pounds of Sulphateof Lime - at % ets. per lb. -88 G ives value of 88 p Soluble Bone Phos- c; phate of Lime. c And yields pounds, r ton of soluble.:-3=3 -one Phosphate,I at 7j ets. per lb. ;Slos p Has also about ,. Ser cent. of I - - E-4Isulpate of Lime.' 94 ~ Per cent. of O____ Soluble Bone - 0 Phosphate of Lime. 1Q1 . qc Thus a Superphosphate which )ntains twelve per cent. of Soluble one Phosphate of lime, contains [so thirty per cent. of Sulphate f lime, and is worth $18 for the 'hosphate, and $4.50 for the Sul hate; and its total value is there >re $22.50. We see from the table that the ilues of Dissolved Bone consists ! the Soluble Bone Phosphate f Lime, and of the Sulphate of dine or Land Plaster it contains. s we will below use the term Phos oric Acid, we may be allowed to iplain that it is a chemical equiva nt to Dissolved Bone. About ne pound of the former is equiva nt to two pounds of the latter, or 4: per cent. Dissolved Bone will eld 1I per cent. Phosphoric Acid. Less than half a century ago, ie attention of the Agricultural emist was turned to the use of aimal bones, of recent origin, as a ~rtilizer. These bones contained per cent. ammonia, and were first sed as a raw bone without being ~eated with acid, and in this form t an invaluable fertilizer. But ~ere we to rely solely on this source f supply, the value of the same ould soon outgrow the bounds of rofit to the farmer. Soon the an ent deposits of bone, sometimes lled rock, or cro-opalite, was dis :vered and tested. At first, sup osed to be inferior to the bone of scent origin,itworked its way slow r. But experience has shown that ;is not only equal, but superior to 1e other. The inexhaustible beds f the Charleston Basin will afford a abundant and cheap supply for century to come. This supply so near at hand, and its merits so 'eli established, that we may rest >ntented to use it, and not even > wish for more. The highest grades of Dissolved ~one are manufactured from Char ~ston Bone, and its merits z're too 'ell known to require discussion. The Charleston Ground Bone ithout being treated with acid as been used on crops with marked access. But it is not advisable to se it as it requires too great an out iy of capital as it would necessa ly have to be applied a year or two efore obtaining results. F o r rape culture it is invaluable and ie application of a ton to a kitch a garden of ordinary size, will ay in the run of five or six years to >me. Its cost is about one-half kat of Dissolved Bone. Practical tests have been made with it by Captain James F. Johnston, in Mecklenburg County, N. C., on ex hausted clay lands,which were made to grow clover luxuriantly two years after the application was made. Much has been said and writ ten about the manufacture and use of Reduced Phosphates. The wri ter of this article who is neither a scientific man nor a chemist, does not pretend to understand the sub ject, but thinks that both scientific men and agricultural chemists have something to learn on this subject It is known that a highly soluble dissolved bone acts promptly and beneficially on crops. . Also that the immediate effects of ground mineral bone, which is insoluble, on crops amount to nothing.' It is also known that if we apply Dis solved Bone to the soil to-day, that by to-morrow, or as soon as it has become dampened by the moisture of the soil, it goes into a secondary insoluble or more properly reduced state, and may be technically said to have "gone back" in which form it is plant food and is readily taken up and assimilated by plants : and if it was not for this wise provision by nature, it would, if it remained in its soluble state, be leached and taken from the soil, and out of the reach of plants by the first heavy rains that fall. Indeed it would appear that na ture has wonderfully provided that all plant food in the soil is insolu ble in water; and that when once properly mixed with the soil, it is as it were stored and locked up there, to be extracted therefrom by plants and plants only It is an open subject whether or not, we may not reduce Dissolved Bone before its application to the soil. This may.be done by the ad dition to it of a small quantity of carbonate of lime-(builder's. lime) -say 8 to 10 per cent., and the writer of this article has so reduced a 29 per cent. dissolved bone with marked success, running contrary to the chemist's advice. The intel ligent planter had better use his own judgment, and experiment in this line cautiously. It is.well known to even the ne gro laborer that tills the ground, that Dissolved Bone pays better on lands that have been rested, or out of cultivation for some years, than on lands that have been for years ini clean crops (cotton or tobacco). Hence, the old sedge fields, when treated with it invariably yield an extra crop the first year, and this generally with a limited amount of tillage. It is because these lands are surcharged with~ vegetable mat ter. Hence any one can see that vegetable matter is necessary as an aid in using Dissolved Bone; and he who uses it on lands on which the vegetable matter has been ex hausted, should blame himself for his failure and not the manufactii rer. Vegetable matter is cheap, and may be either obtained from green crops, from bogs, or the scrapings of the woods. Remember always to have it present in lands before you make an outlay of money for Dissolved Bone to apply to the same. It has been demonstrated practi ally, that Potash added to Dis solved Bone gives more powerful results, and especially on cotton, than Dissolved Bone. The Etiwan Crop Food is an illustration of this combination. The most available form of Potash to be used being a high grade muriate. And here it may be well to caution the farmer against some of the cheaper kinds of potash, and especially kanitt, which I regard as worthless. Use your home-source of supplying pot ash-the ash pile, and a small sup ply from hulls of cotton seed. Experience has shown that the finest results are obtained by a combination of cotton seed and strong stable manure with Dis solved Bone and Potash. Even 1,000 to 2,000 pounds stable ma nure per acre, so comnbined, will produce wonderful,. results. In using Dissolved Bone, combined as above, the quantity of Dissolved Bone, per acre remaining fixed, the amount of potash, stable manure and cotton seed may be varied, the last two named supply principally ammonia. To illustrate, we give a tabular form below, a prescription for dikerent grades of land from very poor to fertile, or lands well in heart. No. 1 is very poor land capable, in a natural state, of pro ducing cotton stalks not over six inches high. No. 2, twice, No. 3, three times, No. 4, four times, No. 5, five times the strength of No. 1, and No. 6, new or fresh lands or enriched, old lands. The 1st line in the table shows the maximum amount of Dissolved Bone in lbs. of 24 per cent. solubil ity recommended for an acre, and the 2d the amount of cotton seed to be used in pounds, the third the amount of phosphoric acid supplied by 150 pounds Dissolved Bone in pounds, the 4th the amount of sul phate of lime or land plaster sup plied by 150 lbs. Dissolved Bone of 24 per cent. solubility; the 5th the amount of ammonia in lbs., sup plied by the cottoA seed above; the 6th the amount of potash in lbs., supplied by the cotton seed above. The figures in the 5th and 6th lines are only approximatively correct. & =I 0 0 =C,-0' T- o o h O 0 OO Cq 0 0 v- 00 E-1 0 0S =0 V o -,oo $24 00ro I' z '0 Oro Vq 0 0~ 00140 For a part of the cotton seed above, rich-stable manure may be substituted, and p'Otash may be add ed from one to'six inclusive on sandy soils, and to advAntage oni The boveis rcom ee as For satife parth f bahe cotton e aberch blanrmyb sbTitrteen hundre posdma bfed edfomtoneilo yix nc 4ls on psphoisi, and adanotg the saew aodnthree ponalay Hence Aforthduing pthaos theuntiper Crpnd (Poeweths and Dissolved Bone o 9pcn. may be usdwihgead vaTge abomied s recmede othe thens maimuamb adviantageousnlyh upsitiaon tBut eitr lner coi beostigfordsing alonle ofwaystoe p care.opleie ieybfr cuttn anwill ore nearef4ulbs tofn poporie, and abfuy wth sae mount ode ptasoh. s Henc for sproing on that amurroper Bonewayb unasecd ihreat to miat e oied wite ohery thngs ifouappl too advantaitous soed adloeckteinthe sil, con-d s ing still mo ftre efulps. n cprate andshoxldabefuly, wit they sol.ain orde toe emts, if ysrinrela godcowna inxep frow verys thin landsecn fammoia te iweed, t, oilse-iberanci pnd if you appyqooired.i j Istodn locaed gin notiand petter calnesl be used, asled abley contaimntsd all oe thenst scunry. In fine, after-a expe-on ther tuse lads commona,fetilies Iwhave to, o nekn rincuin tha soingysperlceg.aofnallthn beenemntheamed,b ipendshuer be eperiments maephloverphae. cont-r In fin,-youe an exp rienelo asm ptawhnas year re thie. us our mmea soriiers, spIngpcoehohicdaonuin tha ntinety pencent yof aelcoh mee the farmer senmarke shoud An-bariiimndyo c ansu. Sofy amhamonia, hadenebu sopelldg nv e aet n