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i r I Ansel Sanders by c. a. mumum ' |RiV?twenty-eight years An ifiw mm S 1 sanaerson Daa Deon fiiit F II11 man wl10 was"?the jcy! js!! man who disappeared and |i' e?J-i. -xiStf left no sign. One morning in August. 1S6S. at the age of twentytwo, this young farmer had gone to his 'cornfield to "top stalk" the corn. He seen to enter the field, but no one in that region saw him afterward. .What became of him remained au unsolved mystery. It was hinted among neighbors and relatives that Ansel had found his life jh.y too bard for him. His young wife, Lois, was known to be more ambitious j. for thrift and money-getting than he. Kuuior had it that she had set for them F the stint of laying up $300 a year off 1 their little farm, come what would: Ii" that she scrimped their table to the last degree of frugality, and that she was constantly urging Ansel on to labor, eariy and late, without a holiday from January to December. This gossip may have beer. true, or true in part. From generations of New England thrift such "economical" young housewives have sometimes " sprung, but the fact remained that Aucel hud gone away and said nothing. Lois' version of it to her friends was that Ansel had proposed that morning M|. ? that they should attend a camp meeting then in progress?not a very riotous form of recreation, certainly?but that she bad urged him to top-stalk the corn. She thought that he would come U - k.J U J - - iwva wucii uc uuu gui over ins ouu > fit." Lois remained npon the farm, which jwas unencumbered, and she carried it . on herself after a fashion of her own. She kept cows and poultry, and prospered as such a frugal soul naturally would. It is said that she came near laying up her "stint" every year. Moreover. she obtained six per cent, for her money on mortgages, and in twentyeight years became the wealthiest .woman In that rural community. But she still lived alone, and had cautiously avoided all entangling alliances. t t On lier forty-eighth birthday, as she sat eating her frugal supper alone, the onter door opened and Ansel walked in. drew up a chair on the other side of the table, and sat down in his old place opposite her. Lois knew him instastly, although a beard now overi spread his formerly boyish, smooth face. "Well, Ansel Sanderson, I suppose you have come back to claim the farm," she said, after a silence of some moments' duration. "No, Lois. I don't vant the farm." Teplied Ansel. "I had enough of it twenty-eight years ago. But I should like some supper. I want four boiled ?ggs and a sheet of warm biscuit and butter." "Eggs are going up. Ansel." replied .Lois. "'That was about the last thing you said to me in 1SG8," Ansel remarked. "But I will pay for my supper. Lois. I? J have anything here. I'll pay cash for it. Only I won't be scrimped again. ' ' Lois." He got the four boiled eggs and the sheet of warm biscuit and butter, and during the evening they compared uoies and talked matters over. Both had prospered. Lois had accumulated ^ibcul $30,000. and Ansel was able to m&ke a display of Government bonds and bills lo the amoOnt of nearly $20,000. < Between then they then came to a nf?w agreement, protected by express stipulations on both sides. Ansel was ^ to pay $4 a week for his board, but was have just what be called for each day. He had that put down in black snd white. He had no claim to the farm, admitting that his rights to it ?voi>a "nnfl# troH " Hp flOTPpd to WOfk for Lois whenever he pleased, and not otherwise, at $1.50 a day in summer and $1 a day in winter. No other claims or obligations on either side srere to be allowed or admitted! Thus, after twenty-eight years, An' ?el at fifty and Lois at forty-eight, resumed life at the farm again. On the whole. It was not an tfnfair arrangement. Both were satisfied. It iwas certainly no one's business but their own, and I am far from presuming tc^criticise It. I mention it only as the prelude to the story Ansel Sandersou told me of his wanderings during the twenty-eight years he was "lost." and of the singular manner in which Be accumulated his $20,000. For it was s matter of no little wonder among his former neighbors and acquaintances a "rnllinff ctnna" Mto An?(>l r>nnl(i have done so well, and brought liome mo much money. When be went away, with nothing t>ut the coarse clothes he was wearing, lie walked to another county fifty miles ?Hstant, where he worked on a farm for fortnight. Then he walked on again to the vicinity of Albany, N. Y.. where fee worked for a month. Then be took ? week's holiday, and walked on again, always westward. For four years he alternately worked and tramped through Pennsylvania. Ohio, Indiana. Illinois and Missouri, to Kansas^ always working on farms, generally about a month in a place, earning enough to pay for his clothes and the holidays he allowed himself. His liabits were unusually correct. From Kansas he made a detour into 'Arkansas, and liking the climate there, spent two years or more in that State. But the habit of walking on at last led him into Texas, and for three years more he fared frori farm to ranch and ranch to farm, still working and walktog o . At fcrSt jo farms and ranches ceasetfcsoi?? porders of the great, dry, barren plWrf*. the Llano Estacado. At the last ranch where he Urorkctf he remained for a year?perhaps because there was then no farm beyond for hundreds of miles?and here he made the acquaintance of a'singular old character called "Sweet-Killer Bay," who taught Ansel the art of hunting wild bees, which are very numerous in that part of Texas. Thenceforward, for eighteen years this beCame bis sole occupation. X. {There is in thiajeglon a river ?nown _. . . on s "Odd Fit" STEPHENS. IMmiilUSi as the Double Mountain River, which for thirty miles tiows through a canon, formed by cliffs 300 or 400 feet high on both banks. These cliffs abound in fissures, chasms and caves, and if Ansel's ac cuuxu chu ue irusieu?uuu ue seems xu have the money to show for it?the entire canon was one vast apiary, where wild bees have existed and gathered sweets for centuries. They are in such numbers as sometimes on certain bright days to resemble clouds high up the crags, and they till the canon with .. voluminous hum. The grassy, flowery plains for miles on each side of the canon and thousands of flowering shrubs afford pasture for the bees. Ansel assures me that there were hundreds of these wild bee colonies, whose enormous masses of comb and honey were adhering in sheltered chasms and beneath overhangs of the rock. A number of caverns, too. extending far back into the cliff, have been utilized as great storehouses of comb by the bees. Not one swarm alone occupies such a cave, but fifty, perhaps, or a hundred, swarms, each having its own queen, but all using the mouth of the cavern as a common en trance. In consequence, the stream of bees issuing from and entering the cave on a warm day is like a rapid, roaring river of winged insect life. It was here that this quaint old Texan pioneer aud Ansel "hunted honey," most of which they extracted from the comb and put up in jars to send to San Francisco and Galveston. The wax they also pressed in cakes and sold. It was their custom to send a wagon load of honey and wax down to the railroad station, thirty miles distant. once a fortnight, and sometimes in good weather once a week. Some of the colonies and their deposits of honey could be readied from the bed of the canon, along frfie river bank, by climbing up the crags. Others were accessible by means of long ladders. But the most copious stores were at greater heights, 200 and even 300 feet above the river bed. When seen from below the mass of comb looked no larger than bacon haras, but when reached was found to amount to several barrels of honey. There were also great sheltered holes and nooks literally packed with old comb and dripping with brown, discolored sweets. None of them were within thirty or forty feet of the top of the cliffs, and they were never in situations where a j man could climb down to them. Many of the crajxs overhung, indeed; and a single glance over was sufficient to turn one's head dizzy. But the veteran bee hunter had devised a rope ladder, cr rather a heavy rope with loops in which to rest the feet as he climbed up and down. This rope he attached to a crowbar driven deep into the earth, or set firmly in crevices of the ledges, and then with a hamper on his back for the honeycomb, and provided with a sheath knife and a sort of short handled fishspear, old "Sweet-Killer" had accustomed himself to climb down these awful crags to plunder the aerial stores of honey. To protect themselves from the stings ~? ~ mnn vr'nrn ui I lit" tmiugtru xiiocvio iiiv uivu ??v* v. gloves and nets over their liats. They had also an ordinary bee smoker, by means of which the bees could be rendered "docile" for a time. After the death of Say. Ansel continued his singular vocation, having as partner a son of the old bee hunter. They disagreed in the matter of the profits, however, ar.d Ansel moved to a point on the north side cf the canon, where he lived for ten years. So daugerous a business would seem to make a trusty companion very desirable, if not absolutely necessary, but thenceforth Ansel worked alone here, descending and ascending the crags unaided, and with no one to call in case of accident. It must have developed in him a wonderful degree of self reliance. Something of Lois* instinct for saving money appears also to have taken possession of him as he approached old age. He labored steadily and carefully and hoarded his money. At first he entertained no thought of ever returning home, but as years passed by he began planning to do so when he should be fifty years old, and had savings sufficient to live on. It was impossible that a man could work for ten years at so perilous an occupation without adventures of some kind. Ansel met with few, however. Once a party of desperate characters came to his cabin to rob him, but he waked and heard them in time to conceal himself. One of his experiences while clearing a sheltered chasm of honeycomb was startling. He had been at work for three or four hours, and had carried ten hamperfuls of comb and honey up his looped rope ladder, haviug nearly fifty feet to ascend with each load. There was a great deal of "old honey" here, and myriads of bees, and after every upward trip he was obliged to use the smoker to keep them quiet, while he forked out a hamperful of comb. The place almost overhung the river, which flowed at the foot of the cliffs, COO feet below ? a situation which would have caused an inexperienced person to turn pale and giddy. But Ansel had come not to mind being suspended at such awful heights, and indeed was accustomed never to look down at all. At the top of the cliff, where the rope was attached to his crowbar, he had one day set a row of large galvanized iron buckets, to hold the honeycomb as he brought it up. Where it hung over the brow of the rock the rope was held out by a stout, forked pole, set aslant in a crevice near the crowbar. Ansel was toiling upward with a load, setting his feet slowly in the loops of the rope, when as he came within fifteen or twenty feet of the top he heard a noise as of hogs champing soft corn directly over his head. Glancing up Ansel could just see the ridge of some yellowish animal's back near Us honey buckets, ^ The sounds were so much like those made by hops that at first he felt sure it must be some stray porker that had come along. and he angrily shouted. "Wliee. there! Wliee, you beast!" as he climbed higher in haste, to save his honey. But as his head rose clear of the brow of the crag he perceived to his consternation that the creature was no hog. but a large yellow bear, also that there were two others, and that all three were tilling themselves from his honey buckets, several of which they had upset. Catching sight of Ansel's head at the same instant the largest bear rose suddenly on its haunches and stared at nun m surprise, us jaws siavering honey. Then, appearing to resent the interruption of its feast, the animal growled and dashed forward to the very brink of the rook, the hair on its foreshoulders bristling and its small eyes rolling furiously. Ansel had no effective weapon at hand: even his honey trident was sticking down in the chasm. There was nothing he could do but descend a few loops on the rope as rapidly as possible. He was at an utter loss what to do next, however, and stood still. But, meanwhile, the bear, after peering over the briuk. ran along the top of the cliff for a little way, then ran back, and in doing so passed under the forked pole above mentioned, on which the rope was held out. There was scarcely room for the big beast to p;^N under. Its back grazed, and scrambling on, it drew pole and rope along on its shoulders?bearing the latter on with it for several yards, when it dropped back 011 the cliff with a heavy jerk. "I couldn't well see what was going on up there," Ansel said to me. in describing his sensations. "When I felt myself goiug. I thought at first the bears had rooted up the crowbar, and that my seconds were numbered!" The rope was strong and withstood the j'erk, but Ansel received a consid erabl shock when it dropped or slid off the bear's back. He fell two or three feet. "My heart nearly came Into ray 1 mouth!" he told rae. "I didn't know what would happen next, and I hung on there, still as a mouse, for some moments." Presently he heard all the bears champing again, and after a time digibcd cautiously up a few loops, whore he could just see them over the brink cf the rock. From this uncomfortable situation Ansel covertly watched a large part of his honeycomb disappear into the maws of the hungry and highly appreciative bears. There was no doubt that they were fond of it. TJjpy swallowed it by the pound. And although greatly disapproving, he was in no position to object, or even to expostulate audibly. Not content with stuffing themselves to repletion the provoking animals cverset all the buckets, and even rolled in what was left cf the contents on the dry. mossy rocks. They smeared their snouts and jowls, then rubbed them along the moss, as if from pure wantonness in such exuberant sweetness. Then suddenly the largest bear, as if its skin were tickeld by the honey ! or beset by parasites, threw itself halfdown beside the crowbar and began rubbing smartly. U'lth /vt-Aer rn'\ A nco! AAtlUI faol tllO ?I IIU L'? Cl J i U>7 *cuov i vvuiu kvva % */ bear move and sway the rope, and again his heart "nearly turned over" lest the bear should actually rub the bar out of the crevice! Fornn instant he was minded to climb rapidly up the rope and try to run past the animals, but he knew that these big cinnamon be r; were not to be trifled with. Suddenly it occurred to him to use t'.e bee smoker. It was below, set in a crevice of the crags, but he climbed ] down and got it. Then charging the bowl with a bit of hemp and sulphur, he ascended uear the brow of the cliff, ligthted it and regan working the puffer. Fumes at once rose and were 1 borne back to the bears sprawling 1 amidst the honey, tor the draft of air i tip from the canon was deflected over 1 the brink of the cliff. J Scenting brimstone, the lazy brutes < suddenly scrambled to their feet, snif- J bug. One of them even rose to liis ' haunches, snuffling and wrinkling up 1 his well smeared black muzzle. After < snuffing suspiciously for some moments 1 nil three turned and shuffled stiffly and i surlily away to a little distance. Here 1 they paused, sniffed again, then set off < at a clumsy gallop, to put a greater 1 distance between them and these high- f ly objectionable odors. ' The bears had made a mess of his 1 day's work, but Ansel was only too 1 g'.ad to come out of bis adventure on such easy terms.- Youth's Compauiou. > 1 The Voice ot Sincerity. ' Children are said to be good although ' unconscious judges of huniau nature: and most of them do at least recognize 1 sincerity and detect pretense. "Come here," my little darling," said * the book agent. She had a voice which belied her words, but she was trying 1 to cultivate the little daughter of the | woman who had not yet come downstairs. "I do so love children," she 1 added, in a clear tone, as she heard ' footsteps on the stairs. "But you seem ' to like the kitty better than me. Why arc you so fond of her?" " 'Cause she purrs as if she mea:d -?-* ?i ? i- VamiI.V it,' saiu tue nine gin, cuiuuj.?awui^o Companion. ? A Stranro SI Difficulty* An unexpected difficulty Las cropped , up in connection with the movement i i for taking up the production of silk in Ceylon. The demand is now almost entirely for unpieced cocoons, for the turning out of which it is necessary to destroy the worm inside. But all life is hold sacred in Buddhist beliefs, and the question is how far this will prove an insuperable barrier to the development of the industry. The act of de- , stroying tbf silk worm would be in distinct co' trnvention of the Five Precepts, w'/kh prohibit the taking of even ius4;t life.?Allahabad Pioneer. Sulor* Exchange Hat?. The Russian and English sailors on board the cruiser Amphitrite, which took the Russian survivors of the Variag and Korietz to Ceylon, exchanged caps, than which a greater proof of perfect nautical entente could not be given. New Orleans has twenty-seven lines , of steamers connecting it with eightyseven i>orts. - ? . > ' 1 .M-ll" BITS OF LACE. A bit of real lace will often contribute greatly to the style of a frock, and it is an excellent plan to rip from tbe garments Derore tney are xnrowu asiue any lace trimmings. No matter how badly soiled, every scrap of lace is worth saving. And this applies to the imitations as well as to the real, for if there is only sufficient to trim a stock collar it may be used for that purpose very conveniently and effectively on some future occasion, and as lace does not occupy a great deal of space and is not so popuiar with moths as are many other materials it may easily be preserved. WILL COLLEGE EDUCATION PAY? Lord Chesterfield advised his son to marry a woman who "is wise as well as rich, for." says he, "thou wilt find there is nothing more fulsome than a she fool." In proportion to woman's intelligence and education, man will look upoix her as a companion and equal an/ not as a mere doll or plaything. # 'or the sake of her home as well as for her own uplift and enjoyment. a woman should get every bit of education she possibly can. Ignorance is as great a handicap in 1he home as it is in the business world. The home presided over by a broadminded. educated woman, will be well ordered, systematic, happy and prosperous, as far in advance of the one ruled by a narrow, ignorant mistress, as the business establishment cf an up-to-date, intelligent, progressive man will be ahead of that of,his dull, ignorant. unprogressive competitor. Men want educated wives. The world wants educated mothers. The intelligence of its mothers measures the strength and importance of a nation. WHEN DOES WOMAN LOOK BEST? Every man will probably reply according to his individual tastes. M. Nimrod. for example, will declare that when she is riding across country Lady Diana looks lier best. The boating mau will think Undine most charming as she lies amid the pretty cushions of a punt, dressed en suite. The man about town will award the palm to the woman who is best dressed in the park. I have heard a man declare that he thought a woman never looked so well as /hen wearing a perfectly plain ?-t I gown or some WUSUIUK uiamiai, whereas it is obvious that some of the sex And us most attractive in what they describe as "full flg" or" "war paint." And. speaking generally, I suppose a woman does have almost every chance in a becoming evening gown. But one woman can lay down no hard and fast rules a3 to when a woman really looks best. Much depends on the woman, much depends on what she is wearing, and much deponds 0:1 her environment, but I cannot conceive a woman looking her best when engaged in exercise which is either very violent or which dishevels her in any way; nor is she likely to look her best when the dress does not tit her surroundings. This is a fact which should bo well borne in mind by women of a certain age bent on ruralizing, and. indeed, by women of all ages, at all times and in all places. ?London World. TRAINING OF GIRLS. ' Almost before tbey know it parents find that their daughters have slipped* beyond their control. The spirit of insubordination is in the air, and it is fostered by current educational theo* ?*A?. ~ thn ries, unm wuai wuu iut- ivui iwu i*" ilenr child will have her "indivifiua!ity" suppressed by bearing a good, round "Don't!" and what with the desire to turn all work Into play to level svery bill difficulty, even at the expense of never reaching house beautiful, many parents are bard put to it to force themselves to even an attempt at ' discipline. Then some day they wake up to the fact that if their daughters ire to be controlled It must be by some Jther band than theirs. This be-wholly their own fault. Or It may be partly the result of those subtle antagonisms af blood that sometimes arm children ngainst par- nts?kin against kin?and ( make sympathy and confidence impos- ; sible, even in the presence of loyal ; love and trust. Whatever the cause, when the home does not teach the lessons respect and obedience the girl must learn them elsewhere or the discipline of life will find an unready and rebellious subject. Sometimes, until she goes away to school, the poor child does not know what it is to obey. cnjmni with its steadying J. lie: 11 IUC OCUWI, - _ routine, Its quiet Insistence upon unquestioning obedience, its unspoken demand for respect for authority and those in authority; lay its hand upon her. and almost before she knows it, she is quieted, humbled, started toward self-control.?Good Housekeeping. ^ POTTERY AND PORCELAIN. "How shall I know pottery from porcelain?" is a question often asked. They may be distinguished by the following very simple test: If you hold your piece up to the light and can see through it?that is, if it is translucent ' ?it is porcelain. Pottery is opaque, i and is not so hard and white as porcelain. The main differences in the man-' ufacture of stoneware, earthenware I and porcelain are due to the ingre- I dients used, to the way they are mixed , and to the degree of heal; to which i < they are subjected in firing. Most of the old English wares found in this country are pottery or semi-china, al-' though the term china is commonly ap- 1 plied to them all. Potteries in Staffordshire, covering an area of ten miles long, were the most important in England. These pottery wares were sold at ridiculously low prices when they were first made, and the price hus risen little by little until it has become quite preposterous. It must be distinctly borne in mind, however, flat it Is the historic crockery only which is o valuable, decorated with scenes re? / i ..-v.-ai 1 . , ,, r^i"T*"Tirsp latino to our own early history or to our heroes, and, with but a few exceptions. made in rich, dark blue. With reference to a particular ware, people often say that they own Wedgwood, I always ask. "Is it marked?" You may set it down as a rule that all real Wedgwood, that is, "Old Wedgwood," is marked with his name. It was trial pieces only, and such as escaped the workman's notice, that left the pottery tmiii.irkwl. There are Deculiarities about this marking. too. which must be noted. The name, in small capitals, is always clearly and carefully marked, whether impressed or printed in color. ?From "The Collector's Manual." by N. Hudson Moore, in the Delineator. A NEW WRINKLE. Here Is a new wrinkle for the girl who likes to. make things. She will need as a starter a shirt waist of very fine white linen or lawn. Tan is even better or a pale shade of buff. This waist is the starting point for one of the prettiest articles in the wardrobe. Take any thin linen waist, or a waist of washable organdie, or anything that is sheer and dressy looking and match It with a piece of lace. You will need just enough to go across the front in yoke fashion, and enough for the cuffs. Take the lace and apply it. Then, witii embroidery stitches, buttonhole stitches, fagoting and cross stitch, go over the lace working it here and there untifit seems to be a part of the waist material. When it is done, dampen slightly and press flat. In this way you will get the effect of lace worked in the material like a pattern dress. There is something of an inlaid effect, though the lawn or the linen is not to be cut out underneath. A lovely waist was made recently for a woman who likes pretty things. It was a white linen, very heavy, with heavy lace medallions worked into the linen. They were elaborately stitched into the goods and were then pressed tmtil they seemed a part of the material. This same idea can be carried ! * b ? flonnftl on<l pooh m oro n Q tlllL V> IU1 U uniiuri nuu vuoumviv, ?.w the lace seems to sin; into the material bettor and become a part of it. Care must, however, be taken to use a great many stitches in order that the medallions lie perfectly flat. They must be stitched in the middle as well as along the edges, sort of worked into the pattern. ft -H? rettyr --Thine*- .. Wear The smartest glove is undoubtedly the elbow-length white Suede mousquetaire. The economical shopper will be glad ' to learn that maline ruching boas are for sale by the yard. A maize-colored mull was very pretty, with profuse trimmings of white Valenciennes insertions. No woman who once tries the expedient of making a gown with two waists will ever abandon the practice. A tine mull gown, printed all over with a shadowy pattern of gray leaves, had scattered over its surface a few pale green sprays. Cordays and sailors are the usual shapes, and are almost universally becoming. The hats soil easily, of course, but they dry-clean very well. Ribbon purchased at almost any of the large shops may be tied by experts , at the ribbon counter in just the right kind of a bow to finish the hat. Many of the finest lawn and muslin gowns are trimmed with ruffles of line Brussels net, and this trimming is recommended for its delicacy and airy effect. A pale blue mull was greatly ad* mired. If time were of no particular object such a gown as this could easily be made at home, but it would probably have to be built on a form to preserve the accuracy of its lines. Watch the lace sales, and at the right time invest in two pieces of Inch-wide Valenciennes. Buy a frame, cover it neatly with white wash net for a foundation, and just as neatly put on the lace in a series of ruchings. Any worn- ( au can make such a hat. A Cnptkin of Industry. For several days the policeman on the beat had observed a small boy who spent the most of his time lounging near a downtown street crossing, and seemed to have nothing to do. One morning he accosted him. "Tommy." he said, "or whatever your nan,? to vnn do entirely too much loafing round here. Hadn't you better be at home?" "I aiu't loafln'," indignantly replied the boy. "I got a reg'ler Job here." "You've got a job? What is it?" "De guy wot owns dls store pays me a dollar a week fur keepin' dis crossin' swept clean." "But I never see you doing any work," said the policeman. "Of course not," returned the boy. "I takes de money an' lots out de Job fur fifty cents a week to de kid wot's out dere sweepin* de crossin' now. He gits his pay reg-ler, an' don't have to do no head-work huntin' jobs."?Youth's Companion. The Proper Tlilnc. The Honorable Timothy D. Sullivan, of New York City fame, did not reach London in time to receive an Invitation to the wedding of Princess Margaret. If he had, all anxiety respecting his attire would have been dispelled by the Lord Chamberlain's explicit direction in the Court Circular, contained in these words: "The dress to be worn by their Majesties' guests will be: "Ladies?Evening dress, deml-toilette. "Gentlemen?Full dress coat, w_th trousers." Trousers, of course, means pnntic* Harper's Weekly. ? SOUTHERN * I 1 TOPICS OF INTEREST TO THE PLAN] K_ Nat* on tlie Farm, The nut industry is new. So completely so, it scarcely has a nomenclature. Occasionally in the past there appeared on the market an unusual hickory nut. a chestnut of good size, but of indifferent quality; a pecan, long, but thick shelled: and so on. But now this line of work is assuming the importance of an industry. And just as soon as we realize that nut trees will afford not only pleasure in their care, but also considerable profit, their worth as a cultivated crop will be annreciated and careful atten tion will be given hem. Nuts and raisins! What dish is more wholesome or delicious, or healthful? What food have we that combines llesh materials and energy-producing materials so cheaply, so completely? And now nut trees can be well combined with farming. Think of the roadsides, often for miles, devoid of trees. I can think of nothing that would add more to the value of the farm than nut trees of various sorts along fence rows and the roadsides. Aside from the shade they would make, the improved appearances they would present, would come the commercial value of the crop. Of course this phase would not bring the riuanciai reward that a cultivated, specially formed nut grove would. Still its importance should not be overlooked. The old roadsides and permanent fence rows and old creeks and branches would be idea! so far as location for walnuts, pecans, chestnuts and hickory nuts. If you do not rare to get nursery stock, plant the nuts, but loak after them a little. Keep the weeds down: dig around the young sprouts once or twice a year. A bir of fertilizer will tickle the roots, and a little breeding In this way will bring about a faster growth and a quicker full harvest. Then don't neglect an occasional watch over the young trees as they grow. The caterpillars are enemies; burn them out. Trimming will pay by making a better appearing tree. By earing for trees In this manner you can expect rather quick returns. In more Northern climates, native walnuts. pecans and hickories will usually bear when they are twelve to fifteen years old. Chestnuts come in at a still earlier age. In the Southern States most nut trees that hare been given some care and attention will produce crops in live or ten years. The commercial nut orchard should receive attention similarly given to the apple, the peach or the pear: that is. the orchards should be plowed and cultivated; the soil improved in a physical way through the use of legumes, eowpeas and clover. Fertilizers should also be added to feed the tree: and what else is needed to make good, vigorous. healthy growth should be done. What Is said here Is not a discussion about the commercial nut orchard; a different treatment is needed there. This is a plea for nuts on the farm: a side issue that will mean good results in many ways. It means n larger idea of the farm. We have looked too long on the farm as a corn or wheat or cotton producer. Let us look on it as the great American institution, and let us grow nuts to help make that institution complete.?C. W. Burkett, In the Progressive Farmer. "How My Cow P?yr." The following is from the Southern Ruralist. The hint about keeping wet ons>V-e nrnr fllld JlhOllt the llliik IS 0 2ood one. the evaporation would keep down the temperature several decrees. "I have but oue cow. but I will tell you how I manage the business on a small scale. My cow is not a full blood. She has some Jersey and some Holstein blooil mixed in her. I feed her night and morning with about a peck of hulls, one quart of cottonseed meal and two quarts of bran. She has a good Bermuda pasture to graze on In the day. In winter I feed the same, with plenty of shucks or hay. "I milk at 5 o'clock in the morning and at G at night, during the summer. In the winter at 6 in the morning and 5 in the evening. I always carry a two-gallon bucket of water and wet the bulls and meal good before she eats them. I think that eating dry hulls and meal causes many cows to die with what is called dry murrain. "I have a good stall to keep her out of all bad weather, and I milk her thoroughly. Leaving inllk in the udder causes a cow to soon go dry. I take my calf away from the mother when a few days old and teach it to drink milk. When it is two or three weeks old I teach it to drink buttermilk. The tirst calf I ever raised was raised entirely on buttermilk after it was one month old. "I keep my cow to. full flow until nearly time for her to come in again. Then I milk once a day and have to keep it up until she calves. She is never dry. We arc never without milk more than twenty days. I salt her Pointed Paragraphs. A woman who whistles is prefeable to one who whines. A wise man doesn't waste any time arguing with a prize fighter. A mar. is apt to feci put out when he isn't able to pay his board bill. Few raeu can refrain from boastin.; of the good acts they do by mistake. A woman never forgets her first love?a man to manage an automobile or a mule. Lots of people are liberal with their sympathy because they can't turn it into hard cash. A girl who expects some man to come along and propose to Ker after the manner of the hero in a novel is bound to be disappointed. If a man is looking for trouble all he Las to do is marry a woman older than himself acd then tell her she is going to have her life insured in his favor. . v ? I CARM 1 ? a . E- | r?7?, STOCKMAN AND TRUCK GROW Eft. |L , y 'i every time I feed, mixing it thorough- / ly in lier feed. , . w* " I have sold 360 gallons of sweet milk since the 21st of October at sixteen cents per gallon, making $51.12. I have had plenty of milk and butter for home use and sold *.516.150 worth of buttermilk and butter, making a total of $73.62. J "Sold my butter and buttermilk at \ home: received twenty cents for but- <y ter and ten cents a gallon for butter- j ' ' milk. I sent my sweet milk to the city. "She gives about three and a half gallons per day. Now. if I could have gotten forty cents a gallon for my sweet milk I could bave realized a nice sum from my cow. "The main point is feeding and milking regularly, and milking eleau, to keep your cow In full flow. "My cow is now giving me three and a half gallons and her calf is eight months old. I feed her one sack of cottonseed meal and one of bran every month, and 300 pounds of hulls, making the cost of feeding through summer j $3.35 per mouth. In winter hay -and ) shucks will run the cost to about 90 a month. I have made clear 011 my cow since the 21st of October about \ S40. besides having all the milk and butter for home use. "I have n home-made dairy under a big shade tree, covered with sacks, and keep water on top with woolen strings In it to feed the water down and keep the sacks wet, and I certainly do have good milk and butter. I gave the plan for making it in the Sunny South." - -a Sheep. e The Planter's Journal has the following to say of sheep: Hogs are probabiy th? best paying animals to grow on average farms, but in some respect sheep are preferable. This is especially true on upland farms that are too much worn or depleted of humus to produce staple crops In paying quantities. Such fields, if fenced j for sheep and converted into a pasture , for them, will yield a greater net re- . wL j turn than if cultivated, and at the sa j time become more fertile, for it is a 9 true saying that the foot of the sheep 9 fertilizes the land. While imorovfng 9 the soil, they also improve the herbage 9 of the pasture by exterminating the 9 weeds. 9 It is claimed for sheep that the 9 make larger relative gains for foe 9 consumed than any other kind of li\ stock. Another claim set up for the is that the annual clip of wool w I pay for the expense of keep. Perhiu Sh this is a little overdrawn, except nnd Hfl very auspicious circumstances, whi< 9 can only be brought about by mo* flBj judicious management than usuady o |9I tains on farms where mixed husband* E9 is the practice. 9H They require less attention duri. winter in the matter of housing ai H feeding, but they should be looki Hfl after pretty closely at lambing time H as some mothers ignore their young BHI first, and require to be penned w OH their lambs for a few days in order 9H .set them to recognize rue- uo:ig:uu. MB of motherhood. 9S0 The objection to allowing sheep an BH neat cattle to run in the same pastn can only apply to restricted area S|H where the stock is unduly crowdec fl One of the most decided advantages i; HQj raising sheep is that it requires less H9 manual labor- the most expensive MB - feature of farming, than cultivated BH crops, but this is applicable to live Hfl stock generally, and to sheep in a more BH eminent degree. An important, if not the most im- uB por.ant. essential for profitable sheep husbandry is the proper selection of breed for tlie desired end and the use of pure bred rams. v *"J Potato Vines, Effect on Stmtlnn S. W. Everitt, Stella. N. C.?Please nnsweb through your paper the following question: Do potato vines have a tendency to stop the flow or dry up the milk in n sow that is suckling a litter of pigs? Or will any bad results follow the pigs? I am told here you cannot raise pigs if the sows arc fed on sweet potato vines. I can't see any reason in It. as they will produce milk and butter in a cow. Answer?i see no reason n uj mc use of sweet potato viues as a food for a nursing sow should dry up the milk: nor do I believe such would be the result. I suspect that such belief is one of those traditions that have been handed down from father to son. with no more foundation in fact than the belief of the influence of ibe mooj^ J on germination of seeds and the productiveness of crops. I do not think n litter of young pigs would thrive If the sow and pigs get nothing bnt potato vines.?Knoxville Tribune a.nd Journal. . ' % 'm yjji; In active service in tbe United States Navy there are 1577 commissioned and, US) warrant officers, and a force of ?S.?U4 enlisted men. ' ' ? '/ * Interesting Notes. It is easier for a girl to lead a faan . j to the altar than it is to make him eat her home-grown biscuits. He who says nothing is never mis- . quoted. Gossips and phonographs repeat ev- , erything they hear. A bigamist is never free from wor- JM ry until he finds himself behind the bars. A smile that can be bought fa. 9B dime is soon swallowed. ^ Race prejudice keeps many a dol' I H out of the bookmaker's hands. A rolling stonte gathers no'. ?Hfl but mossbacks are not attractive j^^HI way. ^flHj It is difficult to make a womarr lieye that compliment isn't the r, HbB thing. It is possible to preserve a man'^^^H body in alchohol, but some mea'^^MB besides are not worth the time wd wHj expense. ^ .-ji JB jm