The county record. [volume] (Kingstree, S.C.) 1885-1975, October 19, 1905, Image 4
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