Democratic Sentinel, Volume 15, Number 23, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 June 1891 — Page 5

OUR MAILER.

j ' C UK mailing wa*1 z\ chine f 7 \ Is a daisy, I ween, c’ • I 1 Its hair it is brown; * I Its wit !t * s *<eenySS <'’» W /It works like a \ X \ f charm, ' XX-'nV V And never thinks I harm; y S. \ L Its soul is as white r 'T 1 A Wbl wurm. *"Tis a jewel, inr WCTMi/ 1 A\ 'B deed - f 'WfesSr' And it runs with A 1 'Wf II great speed. wl 'r ' Tis tbe light of the W! im office, a treasure / JI F indeed ; IMIBI J® »’■ ’ If we have our own ■Mil yl ' way * 'WI fa* It has come here to

Unless some young fellow should steal it away. Let the “Ruckenbrod” boast Of its lightness of cost; In a contest with ours its prestige is lost; For ours can smile . And chat all the while, And many a tedious hour beguile. No iron or no steel Can think or can feel, While kind that we have, it can think a ‘great deal; But then we must quit Our calling it “It,” Or else it may some day get angry and quit. For it is all very clear That the “it” is a her, With a hat trimmed with feathers, a cloak trimmed with fur; With a pencil or pen She operates when Directing the Iniex to women and men. Her name it is Ella, Her voice it is mellow, She’d comfort the home of a decent young fellow; But we're hoping aud praying No fellow is laying About with a view to prevent her from staying. —Nate BaU, in Wapsie Index.

DOUBLE DICK AND JOE; OR The Poorhouse Waifs.

BY DAVID LOWRY.

•CHAPTER ll—Continued. Mr. Caper met them in the hall. Ho was wiping his face with his handkerchief and bowing deferentially. “Ah! good afternoon, gentlemen; good afternoon! Gome in!” “Pretty warm, I see,” said one of the visitors. “Mr. Caper, I presume?” The Superintendent bowed again and beamed upon them. “How can I serve you?” “Well, to be brief, as our time is short, we have called to inquire ” “Ah! excuse me,” said the other, making a sign to the speaker. “Can we see the people you have here, Mr. Caper. My card. ” The visitor, a ruddy-faced man, held cut a card, which Mr. Caper examined. “Certainly, sir. You are welcome—free to look .©ver the premises. Entirely at your service.” Mr. Caper .cringed to his visitors. No one to look at him would believe that this was the man who was on the edge o,f murder two minutes before. He led the way through the building. Into the main hall, to the dormitory, to the hospita', to the nursery, to the kitchen —everywhere. The visitors expressed themselves satisfied with what they saw. One was loud in his praise of the excellent order, and Mr. Caper snoke modestly of his “system.” The other visitor was retitent. When they were alone —an! Mr. Caper took good care to leave them alone —one said to the other: “Strange—very strange! .She is not here!” “No? Are you sure, quite sure, Mr. Allen?” “Quite.. From tire description, she would be easily found. If, after all ” He paused. The other looked at him curiously. “Well. Mr. Allen?” “If she is dead!” “Dead! Dead! I never thought of that.” “I have. Indeed. I considered the chances about even from the first. ” “I hope she isn’t—l do hope she is not!” The Superintendent rejoinel thenr now. “Ah. Mr. Caper,’* said the last speaker, “I dare say your admirable system is carried out even to the—grave?” “Sir!* I do not exactly catch your meaning. ” “Whv, suppose one or more members of a family die, you have a record that would be accepted in court as conclusive. ” “To be sure Do you wish to look at the mortality record?” Mr. Caper was al ; miles again as he led the way to his room. “Here, gentlemen. You see how it is. ” “Hum,” said the ruddy-faced visitor, turning over the pages whereon the record was spread “Hum. I see here several children some very young. Here is one called —what is it? It looks like J. But it can’t be Joe. ” Air. Caper looked over his shoulder, and suddenly formed a resolution. It was one of those lightning-like projects —formed in a flash of time —carried out on the spur of the moment. “It is Joe — an abbreviation.” Mr. Allen looked at him inquiringly. “Joe stands for Josephine in this case. ” “Ah!” “Yes. She was, as you see, aged fourteen ” . “Just so. I see. No other name?” “No. But she was, lam satisfied, ent'tled to a name. I’ve forgotten the story. Her mother was here, you know. ” “Was she, indeed?” “O, yes. Died here. You can see — back here is the date of burial and death. ” “Curious —mother and child. Mother no name?” “Weil —that's the curious part of it. Where the story came in. But she never would confess—never did. We cal ed her Mrs. Simpson, and she never said yes or no. ” Mr. Allen's companion looked at him. Mr. Allen apparently was meditating. The companion could not resist the tomp-

tat on to ash the question that was shapsd in his mind. “Was she—did Mrs. Simpson look like a iady?” “A lady! Humph! You could buy all she’d on her for three dollars—less money." “What my friend means, Mr. Caner. is, did she impress you as a woman who might have seen better times—were her manners those of a woman who had moved in good society?” “Manners! Well, she a’ways seemed to me one of the kind that somehow thinks themselves better than everybody else,” answered the Superintendent shortly. Mr. Alien turned to his friend, then ho made a note of the demise of Joe. Neither he nor his friend nor the Superintendent observed a boy’s head that appeared once or twice at the door. “I suppose we may as well go,” said the quiet-spoken visitor to Air. Allen. “Yes. We are much obliged to you, Mr. Caper, for your kindness.” The visitors walked out of the main hall, and, bidding the Superintendent good-afternoon, rode away. “You think you are awful cute; awful smart, Mr. Allen. Well, you ain’t It was pretty close nipping, but I’m one ahead of you in this game. Thought you'd pick her right up—thought nobody was onto your Jitte game, but I know a racket worth two of that. She’s buried now—dead and buried, Air. Allen. You’ve made a note out. too. You’ve seen the record —it's in black and white here for you. Oh, you’re awful cut# — cute as a piece of punk, or a door-knob, or a goslin’. I’ve thrown you so far off the scent your grandchildren can’t find it, and I'm only a plain, uneducated man, tryin’ to grease my way through the world with no education to speak of.” Mr. Caper re-entered the house with a wicked smile on his b'oodless lips, As he looked about the hall and out in the grounds, he bethought himself of the boy. Walking to a side door, and addressing a man there, he said: . “Where’s Dick?” “I don't know, sir. ” “Well, I want you to find him. I’ll give you just two minutes.” The man has'.ened away. Within the time allowed him, he returned with a frightened look. “Well?” demanded the Superintendent. “I—l can’t —can’t find him. ” “Can’t!” “He’s—he’s gone, sir.” “Gone! Gone!” “Y-y-yes, sir. Clean gone. ” The poor creature cowered before the awful glare the Superintendent bestowed upon him. “Who says Dick’s gone?” “The cook seen him, and the carpenter seen iiim, and the ” “Saw the devil! Where did they see him —why didn’t they stop him? why didn't they come and tell me?” “They did —but you was talking to the gentlemen.” “Well, where did Dick go?” “He ran across the back field, climbed over the fence, jumped on a horse in the lane, and he’s galloped off to town.” “To town! 111 have him back in an hour. And when I get him——” Mr. Caper gritted his teeth as he hastened to the stable, saddled a horse with his own hands, thrust a biidle over his head, and mounting him in great haste, rode to Barnesville like a madman, cursing himself, Dick, the carpenter, the cook, and everybody in Barnesville poorhouse. “Wait—only wait till I get my hands on him. I’ll—l’ll murder him! I’ll teach the devif’s brat to threaten me!”

CHAPTER 111. f A FIGHT FOR LIFE. Zeke Caper whipped his horse unmercifully. He was resolved upon reaching Barnesville as soon as the runaway. He looked across the fields, and his eyes detected a figure on horseback. It might be D.ck and it might be a boy going to mill. No matter who he was. Caper was determined to stop him short or head him off. He halloed with a l his might, but the wind blew his voice back in his teeth. Then he whipped his horse again The horse was galloping: he galloped at least five or six minutes at a rate that threat ened to unseat the rider. Then he lessened h-s speed. The figure on horseback seemed to be hastening his speed, too. He increased his speed until it wa- plain that Caper could not soon overtake him as long as he kept on the road. Then Caper looked for a ;ow place in the fence to his right, dismounted, snoved the top rails aside, led his horse through the opening, remounted madly, and pursued Dick. It was p ain now that Dick was on the horse he .-aw. He was urging his horse to his utmost speed. .Caper s horse was much the swiftest In a few minutes more he would overtake Dick. Caper shouted to him, but Dick only urged his horse the faster. Dick was riding a horse without bridle or saddle. Some men in a field, fancying the man and boy were racing, shouted encouraging words to Dick as he Hew past headlong. “Go it, young ’un! Go it, old man! Go it, both of you!” One man cut a switch, stepped out and handed it to Dick, and Dick whipped his horse up lively. His horse spurted ahead again, and then Caper swore until the air turned blue. At last, when man and boy were near each other, Dick looked back and saw murder in his pursuer’s face. Murder looked out of his eyes. Murder was lined in his firm mouth. Above all, murder was expressed in the forward pitch of Caper’s head. Dick knew only too well what it meant when Caper held his head down and well forward. The devil always goaded him to desperation then. Dick knew, and more than one in Barnesville knew, that murder was done more than once when Caper rushed at his victims witti his head down like a bull charging and lunging in his blind rage. “Will you stop now?” “No. ” The horses spurted under the drivers’ whips again. “Stop, I tell you. ” “I’ll die first ” Even as he spoko, Dick’s horse stumbled, fell, and came w thin an ace of rolling over in a gully upon Dick. In a moment Dick was on his feet, and running as fast as his legs could carry him. Caper overtook him and tried to ride him down, but his horse shied Then Caper tried to hit the boy with the butt of his whip. The handle grased Dick’s shoulder. “Stop, you devil’s imp!” Dick did not heed him. “Stop.” Dick tried to climb over a fence Caper was off his horse in an instant. He grasped Dick by the leg. Dick kicked violently with all his might. His foot struck Caper square in the mouth.

The blow loosened two of the Superintendent’s teeth, and the devil in him was unloosed, too, by the same blow. “Now I’ll kill you, you whelp.” He pulled Dick off the fence; but the boy was supple and full of fire. He hit Caper a stinging blow in one eye with his fists as he was falling off the fence. The blow amazed —dumfounded Caper. Before he could grasp Dick again' the boy was several yards from him. Caper ran after him. Murder was in every line of his face. His expression was so horrible that Dick gave himself up for lost. But he resolved to sell his life as dearly a- possible. “Say your prayers, you Jbrat! It s the last chance you’ll ever have!” Dick’s glance fell on a large, smooth, round stone. His hand was as swift as his eye. He stooped suddenly, picked up the stone, and, just as Caper was within a few feet of him, threw it with all his might at him. The stone struck Caper on the head. He fell like a sack, all abroad, on the clay road. Dick, dreading lest he was playing a trick, stood off, looking at him. Then he approached him, and observed him intently. If it was acting, it was marvelous. But there was a tiny of blood on the ground. The sight of the blood unnerved Dick. “What If I have killed him!” The thought that Caper was only prevented from murdering him did not occur to Dick until he satisfied himself, by putting a hand slowly, timidly on Caper s head, that the Superintendent of Barneville Poorhouse was not “playing possum. ” “I’m sorry! But if I hadn’t hit him — where’d I be now?” Aud Dick shuddered at the recollection of Caper's murderous expression. He lifted Caper's hand. The hand fell limp on the ground. He turned Caper’s fa-e up. It was pale and cold—deadly cold. “I’ve killed him —I’ve murdered him!” said Dick aloud. Then he cried; he looked at the fallen man: at the road, up and down; across the fields. No human being was in sight “They’ll hang me! They'll say I did it on purpose. Nobody will believe me. I’ll be tried and the preacher will talk to me, and then I'll be hung.” Dick was in a paroxysm of terror. He knelt beside Caper, felt his heart and his hands. He even opened Caper’s eyes But there was no sign of life. Dick looked at his horse, scampering away on the road Then at the horse Caper rode. He thought quickly—very quickly. Presently he made up his mind. “I’ll run away—no use giving myself up to be hung. I'll go as far as I can—and keep going> I’m sorry it happened, ’cos I wanted to go and see Joe at that farm house. But I daren't now—l must skip out mighty quick.” He turned to Caper's horse, turned its head toward the poorhouse, hit it smartly with a switch, and watched it trotting back home. Then Dick ran swlfty across a field; skulking, dodging, looking backward as he ran, in apprehension. But there was no one in sight. When he reached the edge of the field, he entered a fringe of timber land, and suddenly disappeared from view. [to be continued,]

Early Men In Tribe«.

There is every evidence that the earliest men in our acorn and clameating ancestry—who may have lived a quarter of a mil ion years ago, and probably four times as long ago—did not live in families nor merely as individuals, but as tribes, or in flocks or droves, or in a gregarious manner. The tendency of most animal is to live together iu numbers. Tho family as a unit in our present society is no doubt a very modern feature. Early men ■worked and hunted and lived in common. All of the very lowest races of men are found living in tribes today. The cannibals of Africa do so; the Eskimo of the Arctic regions live in bands, and the wild Indians of North aud South America *do the same thing. The closer but more complex combination of men in modern civil society makes man gregarious in better senses than in the childhood of the race, and in such combination he finds all the advantages of what we term modern life. Tribal as well as individual whim or caprice have given way to rules and regulations called law, and civilized men now live on vastly higher levels than ever before.

He Would Got Up and Howl.

John H. Upshur, au old tar, who has been in every branch of the United States navy, from cook to captain, “hove to.’’set down his trunk and “took observation” with his “weather eye” when asked what he should do in case of war between ourselves and Great Britain. “The professor of our navigation class,” he replied, “once asked a classmate: ‘lf you were in command of a tig vessel and found yourself in a rough sea, with a huge rock on your beam, another astern, and one on either quarter, what would you do to get your ship out of such a predicament?’ “ ‘What would I do?* repeated the student, in a brown study. “ ‘Yes: what would you do?’ “ ‘I would get up and howl,’ was the reply. And that is ju«t what Uncle Sam s navy woul l have to do if it came in contact with a fleet from any powerful nation.” —S. Jmulx Star Saylrujft. The proverb which reads, “There is nothing new under the suu,” is well illustrated iu the history of the magne‘. Among the wonderful things recorded of the Chinese Emperor B oang-ti is this: That 2,600 years before the birth of Christ, a date which makes all Grecian and Roman history modern, is that Hoang-ti used a magnetic needle to point out the line of march for his troops. This fact has been frequently transcribed from wellknown Chinese records. The above pig-tailed brother of the sun and moon was the founder of the Chinese Empire, dving ia his prime at the age of 121. There are other authentic i ecords of the use of the magnet in China long before the days of Homer. Solomon, 1,500 years after Hoang-ti, also understood the use of the magnetic needle. A recent census bulletin shows that the traffic on the great lakes for the year ending June 30. 1889, amounted to the carrying of a million tons freight a week. This freight was chiefly ore, grain and lumber. And are we still in our infancy? nF

HOME AND THE FARM.

A DEPARTMENT MADE UP FOR OUR RURAL. FRIENDS. Sonw Nnw Appliances for the FarmerWell Selected Suggestions for the Housewife. the Stockman, the Dairyman, the Poulterer, and the Horticulturist—Notes. THE FARM. Diseases ot Domestic Animals.

X 1 \ HE Journal of Comparative Mcdictnc says that Dr. Hibbert, of Bonn, finds that tuberculosis sometimes at--1 \\i| tacks poultry, 1 V* and ie dis- ; ease may become epidemic in > a flock. The doctor is reported as stating that the bacilli are to yr be found chiefly / in the intestinal Figis walls, spleen, and liver, and that the bacilli are

distributed largely through the veins, and are to be seen in large numbers about venous walls. Verily It does seem that the vegetarians have been furnished with new and moving arguments by the researches of scientists within the last few years. Swine are afllicted by trichinas and by the parasites which cause so-cailed hog cholera, cattle suffer from fatal diseases of the lungs, foot-and-mouth disease, splenic fevers, cancer, tuberculosis, and anthrax, while the use of insufficiently cooked beef produces tapeworm in man; chickens suffer from the presence of countless multitudes of parasites which cause cholera by which the flock is decimated, and now it Is asserted that the cheerful hen clucking about the dooryard may be but an emissary of evil, concealing within her flesh the seeds of a dread plague which has destroyed millions of human lives. It will now be in order for some microsco-pically-inclined friend of the butchers to show that fruits and vegetables harbor untold millions of parasites which do but wait for fitting opportunity to prey upon confiding man. Adjustable Snwbuck. For the benefit of the boys who use a cross-cut saw at the wood-pile, Mr. T. M. Elder, of Nebraska, sends a description of an adjustable sawbuck. The ends are made of 2x4 scaßtling, three feet long,

ADJUSTABLE SAW BUCK.

mortised together. They are connected by a piece of wagon-tire eight feet long. The cut makes no further explanation necessary.—Farm and Fireside. Black Currant*. We use them for the table, with sugar, the same as red ones; wo make jam of them, and can them for winter. Jelly and cordial, which are highly esteemed for medicinal purposes, can also be made from them. The jelly is thought to be particularly beneficial in cases of sore throat, and the cordial in summer complaints. It has always seemed strange that more attention has not been paid to them. The bushes are easily propagated from cuttings, which can be planted either in the fall or spring. With proper cultivation they make rapid growth and bear quite abundantly the second season after planting. They are not troubled by the currant worm. So far as I know, they are not troubled by any blight or disease. Currants are so much more easily picked than strawberries or raspberries that they find favor in my sight. The stooping position necessary in picking strawberries is very tiresome, and one comes out of the raspberry season with hands scratched and fuiil of thorns, and garments as badly rent as if they had sojourned forty years in the wilderness.—Fick’s Magazine. Advantage* ol Good School* One of the first questions asked by people who think of coming to a town to live is, What kind of schools do you have? If. the schools are not good people will go to other places. This is one of the causes of abandoned farms. People are leaving the country towns in search of better schools. Parents do not take the interest in schools they should. Very few of the parents ever visit the school. The teacher seeing this lack of interest doer, not do the work she otherwise would. The pupils also think it does not matter whether they learn or not, and so the school does not amount to much. The parents lay the blame on the teacher when they an; mor# to blame themselves. Let the parents awakv to the advantages of frequently visiting the schoolroom and take an interest in the work done and we will have better schools, better towns, fewer deserted farms and less grumbling all around. — Farm, and Home.

Tell It to the Batter Maker*. A gilt-edged article will sell at a good price even in a glutted market. THE HOUSEHOLD. Hint* to Housekeeper*. To make tea do not use water which has stood in the teakettle and been boiled repeatedly. Fili the kettle with fresh water, and use It just as it comes to the boiling point. A number of stout calico bags sewed up with double seams, and tied tightly at the top with tapes, are most useful. Let all be distinctly labelled, and not be so large but that each can bo devoted to oue class of garments. Any one whose nerve force is deficient and blood impoverished may take, with benefit, the yolk of an egg, well beaten up in a glass of milk, each morning. The iron and phosphoric compounds are in such a condition as to be readily assimilated by the system, although small in amotit To separate the yo-ks and white’s of eggs, break the shell on the edge of a dish, then pass the yolk several times from one half-shell to the other, letting the white fall to the dish; In this way the yolk will remain unbroken in the shell. When eggs are to be beaten separately, beat the yolks until creamy and light

colored, and the whites until dry, or so that they will not fall from the bowl if it is turned upside down. Common salt is said to be one of the best agents for cleaning marble, such as wash basins, sink fixtures, and the like. It requires no preparation, and may be rubbed directly upon the tarnished surface, removing any incrustations or deposits at once, leaving the marble shining and clean. The inside of a range, including the oven flues, ought to be cleaned by the kitchen maid regularly once a month. Do not employ a man to do the work as it is something that should not be neglected for five or six months, as it generally Is. If done once a month, the soot in the oven flues being raked out into a newspaper, held so us to prevent the cloud of dust flying out into the room, there is no hardship in this work. If the stove is kept clean, the ashes regularly taken out with care into a covered ash pail, there will be no trouble in the kitchen with the dust of the stove, which is the source of the dingy look of so many kitchens. Buying cheap boots is about the most extravagant act a woman can be guilty of. Only poor leather enters into their composition, therefore they keep in good condition but a few weeks; they are usually uncomfortable, unshapely, and a bad fit. A neat, well-made boot goes far toward promoting the elegance of a toilet, and, unless utterly impossible, a fair price- should always be paid for this commodity. House shoes and slippers are of less importance, but even here the cheap article is the dearest in the end.

THE POULTRY PRODUCT. Some Idea of Where the Eggx Come trom, New York city consumes between 2,000,000 and 3,000,000 eggs daily. A produce dealer who handles more eggs than any other concern in the country, savs that if the whole surface of the State of Now York wore covered with hens they could not lay enough eggs to supply New York city. Of course New York State yields many eggs, but the larger cities of the interior, like Albany, Troy, and Syracuse, use most of the eggs the New York farmers produce. The same is the case with Long Island. The local residents consume the homo supply. New Jersey does nc-t produce as many eggs as its citizens consume at home. Half a dozen Western States supply the bulk of all the eggs which are consumed In New York city. Indiana sends the largest number. Next in the list are Ohio, Michigan, and lowa. It is estimated that Indiana Is the largest eggproducing State in the country. Illinois hens produce many eggs, but they nearly all go to the Chicago market. Heretofore Canada has shipped into the United States hundreds of carloads of eggs. For the last three or four years Canada has annually shipped about $2,000,000 worth of eggs to this market. The present duty on foreign eggs promises a practical prohibition against imports. Previous to the change In the tariff considerable Importations of eggs were made from Europe, commencing three or four years ago. These European eggs were gathered principally in Southern Germany and in Italy, and preserved. The dealers say that pickled eggs, while not good for poaching or boiling, because the shells are brittle, yet are useful for many other purposes. Commission men say that eggs are handled at a smaller profit than other food products. The shipper buys directly from the farmer as a rule. Ho has his wagons, which drive from farmhouse to farmhouse at stated intervals, collecting the eggs. At this season of the year the loss from bad eggs is very small, and when the shipper lias a carload he packs the eggs in cases or barrels, and starts them to New York. They are consigned to a commission dealer, who charges 5 per cent, on the sales. The cost of bringing eggs from great distances is less than one would think. The large shipments reduce the cost of freight. It costs about three-quarters of a cent a dozen more to bring eggs from Ohio than from the vicinity ot New York, and only 1% cents a dozen more to bring them from lowa. It is generally the supply of eggs from the Western States which fixes the price in the East. Eggs are highest and scarcest from the first of December to the middle of February. Of late years, however, there have been liberal shipments during these months to New York City from Missouri and Kansas. Eggs from the latter State have a fair reputation among dealers. There are many car-loads shipped in from Tennessee, Maryland and Virginia. During March and April eggs pour into New York City from all directions. The Indiana and Ohio shippers are particularly active. Generally about the first of April eggs are shipped in to New York at the rate of 4,000,000 or 5,000,000 a day, and prices usuallly drop very fast Commission men have to bo pretty busy in handling eggs in warm weather. Heat is the egg’s great enemy, and farmers are not always as careful as they might be In handling their eggs. Twenty-four hours at a certain temperature will start the process of incubation and spoil the egg. An egg which has been kept for three weeks in an even temperature (if about 30 degrees4s much better, and apparently much fresher, than one which has passed twenty hours In a temperature of 80 degrees.— American Cultivator.

THE APIARY. How to Hive a Swarm of Been. To hive a swarm of bees successfully, and in a systematic manner, requires presence of mind, coolness of nerves and fearlessness. To note the vast difference of the ways in which bees are hived throughout tho country would be very amusing. I think It is sufficient to point out the correct way. It is the usual custom on discovering a swarm leaving the hive to begin throwing water on them; tills Ido not do. When I see a swarm in the air, I at once set about to prepare the hive for them. If I know which hive they have come out of I remove It to a new location and set the new one in its place, and spread on the ground just in front of it a sheet doubled twice. The new hive should contain a full set of frames with a narrow strip of foundation as a starter, and if it is during a good honey flow and after tho surplus arrangements have been put on, I would remove the latter from off the old hive and place It on the new one; by this time the swarm has settled. If low enough, I sprinkle them a little to prevent them from flying when jarred. Now get your swarming basket (I find that one holding a bushel is the most convenient); to the handle of this tie to a pole; a piece of pine one and one-half or two inches sqare is just right Now reach up with the apparatus just described and place

the basket under the cluster; the end of handle should extend beyond the basket a foot or so; strike the limb on which tho bees have settled a sharp blow, at the same time keeping the mouth of the basket where the bees will fall into it. If the first jar is hard enough the queen will fall into the basket together with the larger portion of the bees. Hold the basket in the same position until the beeshave settled, and If any settle on the limb cont inue to jar it until they have all settled in or on the basket. You now have them captured and can do anything you want with them. I have carried a swarm a mile in this shape without any trouble. If your hive is in. readiness carry the bees and pour them down in front of it and assist them to enter bj taking hold of the corners of the sheet and raising it; after they arc all in see that the hive is shaded from the sun’s rays, and you can then leave them to take care of themselves.— Farm, Field and Stockman.

THE DAIRY. Cleanliness Is by Far the Greatest Need In the Dairy. Cleanliness is the greatest need in tho dairy and next to that come better cows and better care and feed for them. That is the expression of the greatest number of voices in answer to the question. What is the greatest need in the dairy? in Fann and Home's great voting contest that has recently been decided. Tho answers were not as varied as they wereto some of the other questions, and the voters struck the nail right on the head when they said that more cleanliness was needed. This means that you must give the cows bettor stables so that they can bo kept clean. They must haver plenty of clean bedding and their tails kept out of the dirt and filth. The stables must bo cleaned oftener and some disinfectant used to take away the bad odors. The cows’ udders must be cleaned before milking and the milker must wash his hands, too. The milk should not be put in anything but tho cleanest of clean vessels and in a room, or creamer that is free from bad smells and odors. The milk palls and all vessels that hold and come in contact with tho milk must be thoroughly cleansed after using. Boiling hot water is the thing to do it with and good air and sunlight out of doors are great purifiers. Better feed also is an important item and this not only meansfeed of a bettor quality, but a greater variety of it, and fed in such quantities that will give the most of tho desired article, whether milk or butter. In other words, feed a properly balanced ration. Pastures are included, too, and many of them need re-seeding with a variety of grasses, cleaning of bushes and foui weeds or enriching to got more and better grass. Everybody knows that better cattleare needed, for tho average milk production of the cows in tills country is about 3000 lbs and of butter 125 tbs. At least one-third of the cows are kept at a dead loss every year, one-third of them just pay for their keep and the other third give a profit. This profit has to balance the loss of keeping tho one-third that do not give enough milK or butter to pay for what they eat. besides giving tho profit for tho whole number. It is estimated that it takes 150 It is of butter a year to keep a cow, so wo must raise, tho average above that to get a. profit. If it is possible for a cow to give nearly 30,000 lbs of milk In a year’ and another to make over 1,100 tbs of marketable butter in the same time, it shows that with proper development, combined with proper food in sufficient quaqtltjes, a much higher average can bo reached. Moro knowledge is what many think is the great solution of this problem and; there are several grains of truth in this. It is no use of talking about improvement to an ignorant man, for he never sees the need of improvement. If lr>. some wav you can make him desireknowledge, he will acquire it and tho the other things will come as a natural sequence. Some of the other answers tliat are included in better care, feed, etc., are better quarters, good water, better milk and Improved methods. Cooperation, no Imitations, no middlemen, dehorning and the creamery system were thought by some to be tho needed thing, but ttese will all come with knowledge. Silage and the silo had many supporters and this means better feed. The talk about a general purpose cow* that has been a favorite topic of discussion in agricultural papers for several i years, seems to have done much good, for hardly a dozen answers were received I in favor of this nondescript. If dairymen have already made such an advanceas to think that they do not want a cow for everything, but that they want » special cow for a special purpose, they have taken along step in advance and they must desire knowledge. If this is so, we may expect better times in dairying in the years to come. Holsteins were favored by some, but twice as many voted for Jerseys and nearly as many for Guernseys. Probably one reason why there was not such a variety of answers given as in reply to the horse question, is that the cow is not put to somany different uses as the horse.—Practical Farmer. Dairy No Um. Make arrangements now by which the cows next summer can have plenty of pure water. There is money In kindness to cows; and the wonder Is that so few recognize the fact. Let the ground settle and the grass get a good start before you turn the cowsto pasture. It is better for the cow and better for the pasture to make haste slowly about turning the cow out to grass early. Linseed meal is not only nutritious, but also serves to regulate the bowels, and at this season loosen up the hair so that the cows soon get on their sleek summer coats If the man who is cross with his cows could only see the little globules of butter fat leaving the milk, or refusing to go into it, when he is abusing them, then, his conscience that he carried in his pocket-book would be aroused, and for the sake of filthy lucre lie would do what he ought to have done for the sake of humanity. The more thoroughly domesticated a. cow Is. the less objection she makes to surrendering hK- calf to the care of her owner, and the less she worries about separation from it The calf must b® kept dry and free from filth. If confined in a pen give fresh straw often. Land plaster sprinkled among it will; make a good absorbent. A wet, filthy condition will neutralize the effects of. much good feed. It is as easy for some men to be witty as.it is difficult lor some to bo otherwise that* dulL