Democratic Press, Volume 1, Number 20, Decatur, Adams County, 28 February 1895 — Page 6

JUemocraiic a' re 2 3 PUBLISHED WEEKLY. DEMOCRATIC PRESS PUBLISHING CO. LEW G. ELLINGHAM, EDITOR. *1.50 PER YEAR IN ADVANCE. THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 28. About the Farm. Follow the crowd at meal time and you will find yourself at the Union Bakery. Let us figure on your stock printing for 1895. We’il save you money and do you nice work. Tainted bin ter will not sell at a profitable pm e Don’t try to sell it if you have established a reputation as a butter maker. Fall pigs have made good growth where ptopeily fed. Keep them growing. They will be good prop erty next .July cr August. Now is the time to begin pushing the pigs jjhaf are to t>e farrowed next April. Hew f By liberal and judicious feeding of the sows. We do not hear so much of pedigrees now as we used to. Not that a buyer does not want an anima] with a pedigree. He does, but he must have individual merit withit. Formerly pedigrees sold the cow. Cleanliness is next to Godliness. Remember this rule holds good about the farm as well as elsewhere, and we know of no place where it pays better than around the barn and outbuilding where stock is! wintered. To grow strawberries to perfec- j tion, says a berry grower, have the bed near water and use a rubber j hose to irrigate. A little reservoir and 81 (T worth of hose will do the business. Apply the water direct to the rows. Mules are the dumbest of all farm animals. They are the Ishmaels of the brute creation. Their heels are against everybody, and every- j body’s heels are against them; and this is because they have no breeding whatever. On March 6, April 2 and 30 th., the Clover Leaf will issue one fare, round trip stop over tickets to points in Kentucky, Tennessee, Alabama, Mississippi and Louisiana., Also excursions to points in Arkansas and Texas, March sand April 2. See the agent or C. C. Jenkins for particulars. Give good, care now and keep the stock in a good condition until grass comes. It is poor economy to allow the stock to run down now. If the supply of feed is getting low buy grain and mill feed and use with the roughness. It will pay better than to stint the feed and allow the stock to fail in condition. Some stock men use wrapping paper when they write a letter—but most of them use our extra tine letter paper with a neat heading in one or two colors. They are the ones who know the value of printing ink, and they also know that a printed letter head advertises their business and gives them a better standing with the people they do business with. To those who make a business of breeding and dealing in stock of any kind we extend a cordial invitation to come in and get our prices before contracting fur your printing for 1595. We have a full line of cuts of horses, cattle, hogs,

sheep, poultry, etc..., and a nice lineof card board and paper to make your selection from. We will make • the price so low that you can’t as ford to waste your time hunting up scrap paper to write a letter. On many farm- more teams are needed during what may lie termed the working season than can be used to a good advantage in winter. It is, of course, an item to winter economically, but in doing this it is not goo I ee moiny to stint the rations to such un extent as to al low them to run clown in condition. To <r> good work, is is very essin tial to have them in a good condition, and it is belter to keep them thrifty than to allow them to run doau and then be obliged to feed up before putting to work. In doing much of the work in the spring three horses can be used to good advantage. Often the ground is heavy and a plow or harrow that is a heavy drag for two horses can be pulled along very readily with three. A man can do more and better work with three horses than with two, and at a less cost in almost every way. Horses are cheap now, and it is an item with all crops to reduce the art of production as much as possible. Gen erally teams or hoises are cheaper than men, and a man can manage three horses as readily and cheaply as two, while the more and better work done help materially to re duce the cost.

Well-Bred Animals. There is just as much difference between the intelligence of blooded animals and scrubs as there is between the intelligence of educated and uneducated persons. As a rule educated men are *‘as kind as kittens.” If they have any “crochets” it is very rare that the exhibit them. They endeavor to make themselves agreeable to everybody, high and low, and it is a pleasure to have associations with them;but the une iucated are too ofter boorish, and unpleasant to deal with. I They have their notions of matters, I often not founded on either fact or reason, and if crossed intheirview, : an ebullition of temper is apt to re suit. The thoroughbred man. when m conversation with the scrub man generally tries to ascertain what the latter really does or does not know, while the scrub usually goes ■on with a voluble tongue and tells all he knows and much that he does I not know, and his speech is interjected chock full of great I’s. And this is the difference. A scrub horse does not know much for a I horse, neither can he learn. There is not enough gray matter in his skull to be a fairly teachable animal. Balky, runaway, and vicious I horses are almost invariably ot this class. Thoroughbred equines are I altogether different animals. They “take” to education as a calf does . to milk, and seem to delight in be-1 ing tutored. In acquiring knowledge there is as much difference between them and scrubs as there |is between bright white men and | African negroes. They possess the i brain and know and learn many | I things by intuition. All horsemen j know this. I will cite only one I • ; case. A lady reared a blooded ■ ( ; mare from a colt. She had the eni tire handling of the animal. When she came to drive it before the carriage, and gave it the word to start, the mare invariably looked around before she would go to see if the reins were up and all in readiness. Driving before a sleigh one day, the vehicle overturned. The mare stopped short. When the sleigh was righted and the word given to go, the mare looked around as us- : ual but refused to start. Instead i she danced around gently and kept turning her head around and look- I ing back. Thinking something was wrong, the lady looked about too, ; when she discovered her extra shawl lying on the snow at some I distance where the wind had blown it. When this was recovered, word to go was given again, the mare saw all was right and moved on. It is unnecessary to state what a large majority of scrubs would have | done under similar circumstances. Jersey cows evince the most noble breeding, and no animals are kinder i or gentler. The Holsteins do not lack intelligence. When at the Smith and Powell stock farm in Central New York, few years ago, they had a herd of sixty Holstein milk cows. In coming from pasture to barn they had to turn a square corner where the butter maker resided. The house was back from the street line some distance, there was a Hower garden in front and on the corner, which was ; not protected by a fence. Looking I out of the window and observing; I the cows approaching, I asked the s I butter maker if he was not going | out to protect his How rs. “No, | sir; the cows have been told to keep off, and they never molest the garden. They seem to know it is forbidden ground.” On that 600-1 acre farm there are few or no in side fences. The proprietors find it cheaper to employ a boy herder than to maintain fences. There are hay, grain and pasture fields adjoining; but the cows have learned to keep where they belong, and it is rare that one steps over the boundary. It can Ge easily iiuag lined «hat would occur to thisHower garden and the grain fields were this merely a herd of scrub cows.— Dr. Galen Wilson. “Sociability.” Few people realize the full mean ing of that insignificant word at the first glance. The entire suecessof the neighborhood. theschool, the church and the state depend to a large extent upon the social features. If the people of a neighborhood are not social and do not care for the society ot one another, that neighborhood is a failure. The young people of a neighborhood must be entertained, and if not at their own homes, or the homes of their friends, then it will be at the doubtful places of the community. The corner grocery, the postoffice, the general store, or the saloon, or any other place where loafing is allowed. We do not mean to say these are all bad place-, but here the idler spends many precious hours in frivolous small talk that oftentimes were better left unsaid. Sociability is a noble quality and is the important part of every gatheri ing whether business, political or I pleasure. Without sociability the

j the reunion would not be a success; j we are social beings by nature, i linked together bv the same ties that sway our thoughts and actions for success or failure. Sociability will make or mar; it takes judge-, nieut as well as discretion to guide and guard our social qualities. We ■ like to see people indulge their so- i eial natures to a certain extent, but I the check rein must be teightened now ami then and a sharp lookout kept for the dangerous shoalsori our sociability will land us anywhere but where we expect. Many a person has been ruined by letting sociability gain the mastery over better judgement. Many a noble man has sunk to rise no more through associating with doubtful characters. Friends noticing his jollv social nature invite him into rough places of amusement; he hesi itating accepts, perhaps, and theie i he took the first glass, and then he | saw people did not look down upon i i him as he thought they would; it was his fir.-t ofiense and is overlooked, and he is emboldened and I goes on and on and he is ruined j through his sociability. Young ladies, too, are led astray through their social natures. A bright ami intelligent girl is the center of an admiring throng, new friends surround and flatter her and she is in- ! vited to questionable parties; she I hesitates and then stops to think, I “do not my friends go there and I

■ associate with them?” She does not know that they perhaps are mentally stronger and able to resist. ■ She goes and meets polished hypoI erites and soon becomes accustomed Ito their rough, wiki ways, and her downfall is rapid. She indulged her social nature against her better I judgement. Let us be friendly and social and pay strict heed to discretion and better judgement.— Rural Northwest.

A MEMBER OF THE FAMILY. So the Britisher Considers the Newspaper of Ilin Choice. Price Collier, writing in the Forum, says that the newspaper is a member of the family in England, and regularly comes to breakfast with the other members. The London Times is a kind of oldest son amongst newspapers, and Punch, the jolly bachelor uncle, who makes occasional visits. Englishmen take their newspapers into their confidence and have a half way of writing to them on all sorts of subjects. If an Englishman rows down the Thames and tops for luncheon at an inn and is overcharged, he writes to his newspaper, just as a little boy runs in to complain to his mamma of the rough treatment of his playmates: and later on this first letter isfoUowed by others, in which the comparative merits and cost of light luncheons on the continent, in Seringapatam. in Kamschatka, and everywhere else where Englishmen have eaten and drunk —and where have they not done these?—is discussed au fond. If horses stumble and fall in Rotten Row there are letters on the subject which go into the matter of road building, modern horsemanship, and the like, with quotations fron Virgil and anecdotes of accidents that happened half a century ago. Os late there have been many lettters concerning the lynching of negroes in our southern states, and here again John Bull, with his ponderous disregard of the fact that he knows nothing at first hand, delivers himself naively, as usual, of his superficial omniscience. Not only the more serious w eekly, but also the daily newspapers give one the impresI sion that they feel themselves to some I extent responsible for the contemporary auditing of the accounts of the day , of judgment. Ou the other hand the better class Englis h newspapers do not indulge in rash suppositions, hasty generalizations, uncertain guesses at I probable future happenings, and the daily exploitation of the personal affairs of notorious nobodies. And one may be permitted to say diffidently that perhaps this is preferable. If Mr. Balfour, for examble. Were togb abroad for a holiday, it would be considered vulgar to chronicle his doings and dinings, and absolutely brutal aud boorish to write particulars of the dress and behavior of his sister —or of his wife, if he had one. The sense of fair ; play of a nation of sportsmen does not permit an editor to torment even hi« enemy from behind a woman’s petticoats. A DRAMATIST’S WIT. He Bin Perfectly at Home with Illa Inrerrogiitor. When Colman, the English dramatist, . wasexamiiied before the committee of the house of commons, which sat on the ; theatrical question, he was asked w hether he expunged all oaths or profane swearingfrom the plays submitted to his revision. lie answered: “Invariably.” “Did you ever count the number of oaths in your own comedies of the ‘Heir at Law' and ‘John Bull?’ ” “Never; but I dare say there are a great many.” “Which you disapprove of?” ‘Undoubtedly.” “Do you not think it would have been better to have omitted them?” “Much better. They disfigure the scenes in which they are introduced, and injure the humor.” “Then,” concluded the chairman, thinking to clinch the argument, “you are sorry now that you tvrote either oi those comedies?” “Quite the contrary,” rejoined the licenser; “I rejoice exceedingly to have made a good pudding, although I regret that any had plums should have crept into it.” Foe rent. —Rooms over Tim : i Coffee’s. Inquire of Mr. Coffee.

AN i_;Z~,- l LURGLAh. The Sleeping Man V. Suffering from Nightmare- and g’-t Wall- SoraitwHly. “Once,” said the retired burglar to a I writer for the New York Sun, “1 looked from the upper hall of a house that 1 I was in into a room that was so dark that you literally couldn’t see into it at all. It seemed as if they must have had the windows closed, the blinds shut and the shades ail down It was blacker'n a cave. I turned my light in around on the floor to get the lay of things and fix ’em in my mind so as not to stumble over anything. Overby the bed I sa# a chair, and hanging down from it a pair of trousers legs. Then, of course, I knew there was a man in the bed. and that it was his clothes that were stacked up on the chair there. I shut off my light and started. I knew the way, and L went I very quickly, but when I got about half-way across the room the man in the bed began to holler. How he eould see me I couldn't understand. I couldn't see him at all, but I just halted and , waited. He didn't holler very loud, , though he was trying to hard; but he was so scared that I was surprised to hear him holler at all; it sounded as though it was all he could do to catch his breath. I was afraid he would scare himself to death right on the spot. I didn't dare back out of the room for fear I'd meet somebody coming in. I thought I could dodge 'em better after they got in; so I just stood there in the middle of that dark room with the man hollerin’ the best he could, and wishing I was somewhere else, and wondering what was going to turn up next Well, sir, in about half a minute he stoppi'd hollerin’ altogether and for a minute or two he did not breathe. Then I was scared: but in about a minute more he begun to snore. You see? He

wasn't scared at me: what he was scared at was a nightmare; he didn't know I was there at all. But it was a mighty uncomfortable position to be in all the same, because, of course, lue was just us likely to wake up somebody hollerin’ in his sleep as he would ha’ been if he’d been wide awake: he might have waked himself up as far’s that’s concerned. But he didn't, nor anybody else, apparently, and when he’d got to snoring again and everything seemed quiet, why I just went ahead and collared his trousers.” DEPLORED HIS OWN WEAKNESS. Unele Josiah's Habit of Exaggeration Too Deeply Rooted for Eradication. There lived down in Cambridge, Ind., . a well-known old gentleman by the ] name of Josiah Nixon who in early boyhood had acquired the habit of ' gross exaggeration, says the Indianapolis Sentinel. The habit had grown 1 upon him so that he believed that everything he said was the truth, no matter how great the exaggeration. After he had reached the ripe old age of three score and ten some of the deacons in the ehurch thought his peculiarity was too much like lying to pass unnoticed, and it was decided, after a great deal of consideration, that the old gentleman must l>e churched. One evening, while he was seated in front of his door telling a small circle of neighbors about the way pioneers had to live, the gate opened and the delegation of deacons filed in.

"Yes,” the old gentleman was saying, “we had hard times 8!:en. I lived two years on grass and hickory bark on Sundays. Wc used to call Sundays ‘bark days' on that account, and that's the only- way we could tell when Sunday come. Bears! I see twelve hundred great big varmints onc’t around our camp, and I killed—” “Uncle Josiah." broke in one of the deacons, “we have come to see you about this habit of yours. You have the unpleasant habit of forgetting the truth when talking, and we have come to remonstrate with you.”

“I know it, deacon,” replied the old man. as he looked around. "I know it. and I want to tell you that I have grieved over that failin’ of mine five hundred thousand times a day for the past two hundred years.” HAD TO WAIT FOR THREE WIVES. Nasr-ed-dln's Marriage Inconvenienced the Austrian Minister. The shah of Persia, who is now in his sixty-third year, and who is the happy parent of eighteen children, concluded recently that he would have another wedding at his magnificent mountai n residence at Elburz, which is some distance from Teheran, says the Paris Herald. His majesty, in order to spare himself the trouble of marrying again at some future day, decided to take to himself three wives at once. The matrimonial projects of the shah caused considerable inconvenience to the recently appointed Austrian minister, who desired to present his credentials to Persia’s ruler. He left for Elburz to do so, but to his great disgust had to wait over a week in a miserable caravansary, situated on the road to Teheruu. The Persians are great sticklers for court etiquette. and the representatives are prohibited from entering the capital until the usual formalities have j been observed. As Nasr-ed-din was occupied with his marriage arrangements, the court officials were too busy to look after the Austrian envoy, and he was left out in the cold till the shah was safely married. Maine’s Floating: Islands. In some of the lakes of northern Maine there are floating islands. Along the shore roots of trees push into the water, bushes grow among them, moss fills the chinks and in time a kind of i platform of vegetation is thrown out along the surface of the water. The dense network of roots makes it safe to walk upon and deer paths are often found running across the surface. The surface is covered with deep moss, cranberry vines, pitcher plants and the like. When one jumps the bog shakes for rods around and water is always bubbling up around one’s ankles. In a high wind pieces of the bog are torn off and they are the floating islands. They generally drift to shore and tie up by the roots again.

gratitude of a squaw. ' Anxiety While Dying of »n Ind Inn Wom»x to FnMiU Her Promise. • A woman on the West side whose 1 early predilections created a prejudice I against Indians is now a friend of the : i decaying race. It came a^ou L,. lll 8 II pretty w ay, says the Chicago Tunes, ' and the incident has also a sorrowful I tinge. A Sioux Indian and his squaw, whom the woman’s husband had know n I I out west, were returning from Europe, where they had been as attaches ol Buffalo Bill’s Wild West. When they came to Chicago they stopped over a day and hunted up the palefaee whom they had known out west. He hired a carriage and took them out to his i home, which surprised bis wife not a I little, and there they were entertained I at dinner. The squaw spoke no language but her own. Her man knew enough English to rdtike himself underI stood. Both were in their visiting colors. They didn’t like the blue points and oysters, but when the roast beef (wo-haw) was brought on the eyes of the squaw bulged out and she clapped her hands. She devoured it slice by slice and in a manner calculated to shock the wife of the paleface. After dinner the squaw sang for the paleface woman and her papooses to sljpw her gratitude. Then, through her man, she had the paleface woman take off her shoes and stand on a sheet of paper. The squaw took a bit of pencil and drew the shape of the feet. The squaw's man informed the paleface woman that she would make and send her a pair of split bead moccasins from the tepee as soon as they could be made. The Indians went away that night, westward bound, and months passed by. The West side wife playfully chided her husband about his lavish entertainment of the reds and their mock gratitude. He said: “Wait!” In a year from the time of the visit a package was delivered to the house. It was opened and there were the split bead moccasins made by the squaw. There also was the information that she had died about the time the moccasins were completed. In a crude sort of way, but all the more tender on account of its simplicity, the Indian explained that his squaw would have sent the moccasins sooner, but she had been sick and her work had been delayed, and that she was afraid she would not live to keep her word to the paleface woman who j had entertained her with such good wo-haw. There were some tender words spoken in the home of the West side paleface that night, and even now, when the I wife of the paleface tells the incident, ! there is a slight tremulation in the lips and a moisture about the eyes.

TURKEYS ON CRUTCHES. How a CaHfornla Poultryman C ured Hla Fowls ot Rheumatic Troubles. C'apt. Bridge, of Shasta county, Cal., Who has an extensive reputation in that district as a cultivator of high-class poultry, has developed a very philanthropic spirit toward his wards. Recently he noticed a peculiar disease spreading among the turkeys. It exhibited itself by a gradual swelling in the legs from the thigh, or time honored and much respected “drum stick” so popular among youngsters about Thanksgiving time. It spread down the legs and in a few days the turkey unfortunate enough to be afflicted was unable to walk with that proud and haughty step so frequently employed by this royal bird. The captain found that by regular hot water applications the swelling could be reduced, but this manner of treating was so slow, says the San Francisco Call, that the patient was compelled to lead a life of idleness, much to his disgust. At times the captain would have several of his fattest birds in the hospital, and it required almost all his attention to give them the hot water treatment This state of affairs went on for some time, when finally he was inspired to introduce a little 5 ankee ingenuity into the flock, and being rather handy with his pocketknife he fashioned a crude pair of crutches about seven inches in length and secured them under the turkey’s wings. They were just a fraction longer than the bird's legs, and every time the rheumatic would take a step forward the crutches would be brought into play, and progress, instead of being torture, was a pleasure. In a few hours the cripples became familiar with the new order cf things and were able to hobble around the yard at a more rapid gait. Almost any time during damp weather, when the rheumatism is on, one eansce half a dozen turkeys on crutches at Capt. Bridge s farm. They are learning some new tricks of late, but so far are not sufficiently expert to fly up and light on the fence. A GAMBLER S SUPERSTITION. He Hewed with Horror the Proposition to Burn n Deck of Cxrdx. They were playing a quiet rubber of w’b: t and had called for a new deck of cards, one of the players was ,m dd timer, a card player of years of experience, and he took up the old wornout pack and put them on the windowsill. “Throw them in the fire,” said the young man who was bis partner What, said the elder, “throw a pack of cards in the fire? Young man you don't know what you are talking about. I wouldn't do it for one thousand dollars.” "Why not?’ “Superstition,” was the answer. "Burn a pack of cards and they will never give you another hand and will mock you to the last. Thev are bad enough at best, but you never saw a gambler curse the cards or abuse them, or burn them or.otherwise illtreat them. He doesn’t dare to. I knew a successful’ card player who did it. He was dwelling on velvet then. In a year he was a beggar, and he never won a game worth mentioning forever after. It's a whim, but the gentlemen of the cloth of green respect it. and they won’t burn a pack of 1 i’.ards.”

A SOLDIER OF FRANCE. How They Were Made nt the Military School at St. Cyr. in “A Boy of the First Empire,” Elbridge S. Brooks’ story of Napoleon in St. Nicholas, is told how the youthful hero was made into “a soldier of France." So it was soon over, for all the world ' like some wonderful fairy tale, and Philip Desnouettes, son of the emigre, bound boy of the washerwomen'* quarter, prot gc of the emperor, turned his back upon the narrow and dirty street he had onoa called his home, and, riding away from the past, was entered as » pupil in the military school of St. Cyr. From the day when, as a new boy, he WUS introduced into the new school of St. Cyr. and was gradually transformed from an uncouth street-boy to a little machine, to the day when, four year* Inter, he left it for other scenes, Philip Desnouettes' life was one of continuous training. He got up by the drum, lie ate his meals by the drum, he went to bed by the drum. He learned to drill, to ride, end to build fortifications; he received instruction in lani guages, literature, history and mathematics; he toughened without fires, developed by austere discipline, lived by rule, played pranks and took his punishment as he did his medicine—without grumbling, grew, strengthened, broaiftmed in mind and body, learned to be a French schoolboy, a French soldier, a French gentleman. Then came 1810. Great things had been happening while Philip was a i schoolboy at St Cyr. The map of Europe had been ehanged again and again, and Napoleon was the mapmaker. There had been wars and rumors of war; there had been mighty marches, bloody battles and terrible triumphs; and with march and battle and triumph the fame of Napoleon, emperor of the French, had grown to mighty proportions. I> 1810 France and Napoleon were the greatest Dullcs in all the world. And Philip had met Corporal Peyrolles. Peyrolles, the wooden-legged, had left his good leg of flesh on the bloody field of Austerlitz, and, pensioned by the emperor, had been made one of the drill sergeants in St. Cyr school. To PeyroUes the emperor was not a man. he was “the emperor;" and PeyroUes worshiped him even as did the Romans of old worship their highest and bravest—as something more than mortal. And yet the boys at St. Cyr declared that but for PeyroUes the emperor would never have been; for it was Peyrolles’ delight to recount for the boys of St, Cyr how “1 and the emperor” conquered the world!

But it was largely by Peyrollea’ friendly promptings, plus the instruo tionof the St Cyr school, that Philip became proficient in drill and ambitious of glory. And when, even before the allotted term of training, the summons came to ‘‘the cadet Desnouettea” to attend upon the emperor, the boy felt that both fame and glory lay well within his grasp. But Peyrolles said: "See what it la to have Corporal Peyrollesfor your friend, cadet. Do you think it is because your sharp ears served! the emperor, when you were but a boy of the streets, that he now calls you to his side, even before your military schooling is done? Not so. It is because of me. It is because Peyrolles has had you in hand. The emperor has heard of it. He bids you come to him that you may show others in his service what it is to be tutored in arms by the man who helped the emperor to win the day at Areola and Lodi, at Castiglione and the Pyramids, at Mareago and felm and Austerlitz. Long live the emperor, and long live Peyrolles, his right hand! Do not disgrace my teaching. You are but an infant yet. cadet. But so were we all once, and even a child can be brave. Listen, you cadet: rush not rashly into danger, but. once in,do not back out. Strike not until you can strike swift and sure. Obey, and you shaH be obeyed; follow, and ;>.u shall be followed; seek glory. a.d glory shall seek you. Be a soldier of France, and France shafl be proud of her soldier, and shall say to the world: ‘Behold’ this cadet was a pupil of Peyrolles of st Cyr. grenadier and helper of the emperor!’” A TV Oman's Way. A woman's most cherished method of getting her own way ia to let a man suppose he is having his own way, remarks a knowing writer in an exchange If she sets her heart on a thing she seldom suggests it 0, dear no ' , She ar £’’ es against it gently’ mildly, till the man takes up the eudls.'n «>e says what a horrid cold night it would be to turn out for the theater, when she is dying to go; and that suggests to him that the theater would be enjoyable. Or if she wants a quiet evening at home to do fusses about and suggests -- do *e® .afferent places of amusement « a breath, till he doggedly say. h‘ I wont go anywhere, since she can’t make up her mind. When he makes a suggestion on his own part that Tdl. m with her wishes she doesn’t anil hknows the Perverseness of ma" and that he would at once back out of the whole tning if 6 h e did that She ■ once into having what he takes to be smile°s"XmZioS/X and scores a point to her side. A Dirty Trade. One of the dirtiest trades is that nt the weaver of im«h , tnat °‘ ■ 1 xie rushes comp still Soiled With some of^the? W '^ er °oze, dry and dirty Th ‘ elr nat ->ve for the work requires th P re P a ration twisting of the hC a nd Process muldystreamsTr this which trickle over “he hn W 7 n L O ’ rt ’ worker and make diet \? ds oi the floor. It is j ust n— puddles on the germs lurk fc the rushel