The Syracuse Journal, Volume 19, Number 23, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 7 October 1926 — Page 2

I Youth Rides West | I By Will Irwin I WWU •er-Hee Copyright by W!H Trwin grx

CHAPTER Xl—Continued “Ah. then® proceeding* are legal, then!" exclaimed the stranger, with what appeared to be an air of genuine relief. "In that case —’’ "Miner’s law. Rest law that la. But you'll git a trial," rut In Shorty; and the captive's eyelid flickered "That will he all from you Just now. Tie hl* arms, boys, and bring him along.” Back toward the clearing we started, led by the grofip convoying the captive. He had an easy, athletic walk. Everything about him. in fact- the accent, the precise speech, the cool, formal mahner—suggested the gentlemen. Perhaps almost too much the gentleman. We were well out In the clearing before I looked ahead; so much did this m*n whom I had captured for death hold my insane attention. Out of the woods came the cowboy, leading that little black horse on which the posse ! had mounted the gagged and helpless Charlie Meek. The saddle was empty. | I saw then that a figure lay shrunken and huddled across our path. The leadituf group stopped beside it. The whole frame of the captive gave a jerk 4nd then nettled back, a* by effort Os the will, into a pose of easy nonchalance. I hurried forward. Charite Meek. He was bleeding from a hole In the cheat: the aide of Ma head wan all asmear with another wound; The gag still stretched hie jaws; over It ran a bloody foam. But his wounded torso heaved; and there was a pleading intelligence In his eyes. “Better git that thing out of his mouth." said Shorty with a touch of softness. “Tain't needed no more.” Some one untied the gag. Hl* eyes rolled -until they showed only the whiten: the mu*cles of his face drew: his Jaws moved an though the last Instinct tn him, the talkative, was for speech Then his throat rattled and: ‘He's gone!" said Shorty. I looked up at the captive. And other eyes, now that the curtain had fallen on Charlie's tragedy, followed mine. He was perhaps a trifle pale; but so. I suppose, were we all. •’Would one of you gentlemen mind slipping that rope a little farther up my right arm?*' he asked “It will hold me just as securely and won t ehafe *q much-thank you." They led him on ; seated him by the clump of trees. But Shorty, looking down at the body, vouchsafed unasked a word of explanation. “Harn thoughtless of me,” he said “Ought to tied him to a tree up by the horses. Had some loony Idea of keep Ing him where we could air watch him. When those road agenta come out by the cabin, the boys there on the ridge showed a little excitement. I guess Anyhow Matt, that fool cowboy from the slaughter house, lost his head and let go the bridle. And this" —Shorty ' dropped hU contemptuous pronoun not | untenderly—"took his chance and dug his heels Into hht hos« Matt got him here” he pointed to Charlie's breast“and—and somebody In the pmae got him here. Then the boys down below had to shoot— Hey! Here eomw the KUjer!" * Over the ridge marched another captive tall, rangy, bearded Vaguely I had been trying to account for the fifth bandit. Thia evidently was he Led toward the clump of trees, he passed nu He had a pair of strange, atari ng* light brown eyes. which > seemed to look through and over the members of the posae. crowding round or following like little.boys. Shorty ran forward, barking an order. I.eft . alone. I followed. Tb* tail man and my captive were facing each other; and their eyes showed no recognition; only faint curiosity. Then they were Jed away, made to sit down under separate trees. Shorty, ail executive force again, sent one aquad up for the hornee. another down for the bodies. A half-score of us. temporarily unoccupied. withdrew beyond earshot of the captives Tongues began to wag. They questioned me about my feat; for I, who had gone on thia hunt a suspected person. was now a hero. I had, taken my man with my naked hands. I evaded answek Then the posse fell again Into boastlag and rem Iniaceace; and to me. as reporter for the Courier, all addressed their narratives. Never did journalist hear any story leas curiously, for my own moment or exultation tn tragedy was passing. But 1 heard nevertheless, and absorbed half consciously the] background to the night's events. 1 have heard It many times since from better authority, have put it together I in logic U detail. And because I have ; much more to tell, let me here finish I with that Even before the robbery of the Cottonwool stage, the bank and express company had taken serious thought concerning the raids on their treasure shlpmc! ta From their own funds—for an »ppeal to the county was worse than useleae —they had hired Mike the ba-tender and two other detectives irtjo never then or thereafter showed their hands or revealed their IdentitlML The criminals and extortionist* of our camp were all roughly interim ked; one group knew the gossip of he others. Moreover, they had grown -areleoa with immunity. Every night Mike the bartender plucked gems Tom drunken lipa. Suspicion | fnsteced on the live men who worked—area steaaliy—that remote. to promi* tag elate absvs Forty-Rod. One of them had fWtevred the futile chases of MaraAJ McGrath after the latest ■tags abbacy «nd the hold-up of the fitoaevzll Jacfcaoc pay roll. and. snatch; ag notes with his fellow who iwatdkd the dalm, had teamed "tome Wae's" code of signal* by gunshot. * The place of Marshal McGrath In this criminal scheme of things long repMdte! a matter of doubt FiuaUj ■

the detectives and their employers rated him for what he was—an anachronism. a back number, representative of an era from which Cottonwood camp had emerged. Meantime Mike had plucked another gem of information from the tipsy | gossip of the Silver Dollar. The i "Killer.” that member of the gang who ! had wanted to torture the Stonewall Jackson paymaster, had grown dangerous. On any big job he was likely jto shoot prematurely, recklessly. The rest of the bandits had quarreled with ! him. What pressure they could put ' upon a wild man like him, unless It was knowledge of his manifold crimes. I know not. At any rate, they subdued him to their policy. The next time they went out they would leave him behind to guard the cabin and watch the approaches. tm the night of actiom a band of eight men. picket) from the vigilance I committee for nerve and marksmanship, hid in the bushes above the J claim: After supper, they saw four i of the inmates start through the tnoonI light to the little horse corral on the hillside above. A candle still burned in the cabin: by which they knew that things were going as expected. Two expert plainsmen stalked the claim— thia. It seems to me yet. was the moat valorous deed of that night. Luck served them: the Killer went out presently for a pall of water. When he returned, his right hand occupied, they rose up behind him. poked two muzzles Into hl* riba. Having satlafied themselves that he would not talk, the squad bound and gagged him and. disposing themselves In the cabin or in the woodpile, waited for dawn. When the bank robbers, having received the double signal for “fill safe." ahould return to the cabin, the vigilantes Intended to let them enter, to get the drop, and to capture them alive. By prearrangement. Charlie Meek whs not arrested with the marshal. Marcus wanted to see what he would do. As Marcus expected, he turned on the marshal, announced his own virtue, asked to lead the posse. Letting him fire the signal, thereby putting In our hands the last piece of eon vlncing eviden<e. was an afterthought, a final detail arranged between Marcus and Shorty l>efore we started. So far. the elaborate program had gone through with machine like smoothness—not a break or slip. 1 marvel yet that In taking i>o*«e*«ion of the town and arresting so many dangerous characters the vigilantes ne»er had to fire a shot before Charlie Meek wus killed. • •••••• The horses had come. Up from the hollow, men had borne the three corpses. All. by virtue of good marksmanship. had mercifully died In their tracks. They rolled Charlie's body I over, roughly composed it, laid out the others beside ft. The first was J that man with a short black beard whom I had seen giving orders to my captive tn the Black Jack lite night before. Last night—every time my mind formed that phrase. 1 had a kind of vague wonder to think that years and ages, had not passed since the setting of yesterday's sun. He had been struck squarely in the forehead by two heavy bullets at once, and mutilated i most horribly. ... Shorty was bellowing orders- "Git those bodies onto horses! Tie up the .prisoners and mount 'em! You. Matt, rustle bark to camp and tell Mr Han- ; dy we re cornin’—ride! I»on t anybody else go ahead—thia Job ain't over." Glad for anything that would break , my tumbling, fluttering thoughts, I hurried to my horse. CHAPTER XII The aun had fully risen over the I*yritea, was dancing even on the westward slopes, when from a grove of dwarf pine our shoddily solemn procvwlon emerged Into the straggling litter of cabins bordering Horsemen were swinging* now round the line of shacks which marked the rear approaches of Main street. Behind them ran pedestrians. One man had recognised Charlie Meek, was shaking hte fist at the dead bandits ... he would know better presently. .. . Before and behind, riders of the posse were slipping bits of news from the corners of their mouths to friends in our fringe of camp-fol-lowers ... my own name. . . , Men were pointing me out. . , . i "And never even went to his gun.” I , heard. ... My cqptive ahead rode with bls back straight, his head up . . . if he would only sag or droop I. . . his spirit defied mine. . . . Thia was Main street. How the vigilance committee had grown 1 A cordon of armed guards stretched on both sides of the way. .... A woman looked from a cabin door, raised a hand to a pale forehead, crossed herself. ... 1 must not look at the crowds again. . . .'I might see—what matter If 1 did see .. . ? Men crowding about me . . . congratulations on my nerve . . . Marcus repeating: “It’s great, boy!" . . . Bnck reassnring me that he always said I ought to have been In the game from the first . . . others ... the touch of their hands were loathsome . . . would they ever let me alone? ... Ah, how the committee had gone into conference . . flashes of light on their intention*. . . . "He wen’t take long." I heard from Shorty ... Mayor Brown was to be judge. . . . "Well, come on! Let's get it over with!" Marcus commanded Then his sharp, strained countenance turned my way and he seemed again aware ft me. "Coming along to the proceedings, boy?" And that tngtary jerked me out

of the haze into the light. I would not, I could hot attend that trial because of what I knew and would not tell, but mostly because that softening picture rose again—the blue eyes of Constant's Deane. Guilty she might be—guilty of course she was; nevertheless. I could not face her reproach. And .Marcus, peering into my face, must have guessed something of this; for '■his expression softened and: “Ail right!” he said. Then, as though finding for me a logical way out. he added: “S’pose you stay here on guard.” Others were listening now; and for their benefit he went on with a jocularity I knew to tie assumed: "You brought him in. and you keep him. Hey, McNeill. Bowles! You're to stay here on guard. Mr. Gilson’s In command.” The door had opened again. The Killer emerged between two guards, his hands now unbound. There was a welt above his wrist where the roi>e had cut. ... But-he walked straight. Some one had given me the key. Some one had commanded that 1 was to open the door only on signed order or peraonal demand of the central committee. Down the street walked the captive and his guards. The beelike swarm about the courthouse became active, moved, shifted. Heretofore It had been silent or nearly so; tnegely buzzing with subdued conversation. Now, its members broke into audible speech, even into vociferation. A large squad of guards had detached Itself, marched away; it disappeared into that alley which led to the Pioneer corral. Ten minutes later It emerged—augmented. Between the ranks I discerned the tall form of Chris McGrath, framed by an unranked crowd. Ab. there were the prisoners of the Pioneer corral, they who were held for deportation. There was Colliver; there was Red Nell. The squad aligned itself and its captives before the log assay office beside the courthouse. From the peak of Its gable extended a new timber. It had not been there before. . . . A horse was being led into the crowd —a barebacked bay horse. The guards were Ideating men away from him; and the babble had stopped. The only tvund was the shuffle or thump My Captiva Rode With Hit Back Straight, Hla Head Up. If He Would Only Sag or Droop—Hie Spirit Defied Mina. of feet on the board sidewalk*. Men had come through the courthouse door. Above them emerged a form, bareheaded. blindfolded, hatlesa- they were lifting him on to the home. They were leading the horse toward the beam. The Killer's bead was wagging as though he was talking. There seemed no benefit of clergy — and Marcus had summoned a clergyman for the gambler who lost his nerve 1 knew then that bis speech was but blasphemy • that the Killer, on whose departing soul lay the blood of twenty men. was dying as he had lived. There was a man on the beam . . , tying a rope. . . . Some one standing on a chair had dropped the loop over the Killer's neck. His head wagged; was still. The horse gave a violent leap out from under him. . . . A murmur that was a wail from the crowd. ... A man on the outskirts pitched over on to his face. . . The heaving shoulders, the blinded head, visible above the spectators, were spinning. . . . And a voice walled and choked in my ear: “Oh, G—d—oh, G—d!” The prisoner ■ stood at the window. His hands clutched the bar*. Hts eyes stared. Hts loose mouth had fallen open. Hi* head was wobbling on hl* shoulders. And his despairing glance clutched at mine. “Let me go!" he pleaded. "Let me go!" I shook my head. “Then send for my wife”—the words came out of him In spurt*, tn jerks. "She’ll—she —might get me out of thia. For G—d'a sake, send for my wife "Whg la your wife?” It was an though some one else spoke. “Mrs. Deane—Mr*. Constance Deane —Mrs. Barnaby's place”—he was Bagging from the bars now. "She came to get me out of thia. AU the way to make me atop this. My God. if rd listened to her. Fd have been a decent man—” and then, as though the sense back of his emotion warned him that he was making a fatal admission, his month snapped shut, something like intelligence returned to his eyes, and be finished weakly: “Send for mywlfe.” Mechanically I repeated, I do not know why: ■

THE SYRACUSE JOURNAL

“Get back from the window!” Fot I was Rohetal Gilson again; like a naked soul at yhe judgment seat I saw what insane jealousy had made of me what I had done to the woman I loved what a thing I had been. . . . And I turned, as though the motion would relieve me of my thoughts, and saw her; and thought for an Instant I was seeing a vision. She stood at the jail door. One hand rested on the latch. The other clasped round het head a black shawl. Her blue eyes, swimming in anxiety which I took sot reproach, seised mine, clutched them “You!*’she said. "You!” "Is this your husband?” I asked. “Yes. Quick! Have you the key?* “Yes.” “Then give it to me!" Her hand, her eyes pleaded. "You say you lov* me—" “Nf>.” I said, "I will do It myself." • And while I was saying that —so quick s is thought—l had formed both a deI termination and a plan. All save ua I : stood watching that drama of a pass- ! i ing soul, their eyes captives of horror. I ; My fellow guards were not watching. ; ° My roan, with his trick of speed, stood lat the door. 1 moted forward to act. She raised her hand as though to protest. dropped It as though, realizing that she would waste time. I threw the reins over my saddle horn. I turned the key in the lock. It grated. I glanced involuntarily over my shoulder. McNeill and Bowles had not heard the sound. My captive was crouched on the floor, half collapsed. As 1 entered his eyes went wild. “Listen." I said, “and get yourselt together if you want to live! There’s a horse at the door. Here is my hat. ; Its a different color from yours. Follow me out. Get on to the horse as quietly and quickly as you can—” Instantly control came to his face, his limbs. But I staggered the six step* to the door. > "Waft a moment!" I said. I placed myself by the saddle, on the side toward the crowd. A tiny practical consideration troubled my mind for an instant and was as Instantly dispelled. I was tall, he short—but I rode still , with the short eastern leather—he could reach my stirrups. He mounted so that hts foot, crossing the saddle, struck my back. The beat of a trot, a lope—he was gone. . . . I looked back toward the crowd. McNeill )|ad turned his head. . . . but this phenomenon of a galloping horse appeared neither to warn nor to interest him. His gaze turned back toward that suspended torso, again moving and swaying toward those bound, convulsed arms. No one else had seen. I was facing Constance now. “Oh, you must go. too!" she cried. “And you?” said I. “I am responsible for this —I will face the responsibility!" she said simply. And her eyes were superb. “No. I am responsible." I said. “It was I who caught him. It is you who must go. I will face It.” "And I will not go!" she replied simply, firmly. I saw I could never move her. “Then we will both stay." Looking into my eyes, she must have read a determination equal to her own. Her look lightened a little. “Perhaps I can find away out." she said. For her. I knew there was away out. They were not hanging women. Mafcus had elected only to dei>ort Red Nell, and had withheld even that punishment from Constance herself, suspect though he held her. For me—the vigilance committee had only one punishment for such as me. It was immunity or death. • • • • • • • The Killer was gone at last. He had been a long time dying. Some one, probably one of the doctors, had announced this, I felt. For the crowd buzzed again In talk. Now the guards were carving away between the courtroom and the jail ; and I filled my lungs and squared my shoulders’ for my ordeal. If I diet!—l must carry one thing across with me. And as a slow-moving body of men emerged from the courthouse, moved between the lines, I sjwke It like a last request. “Constance, you love me. don’t you?" I asked. “Yes," she said simply, and pressed my hand before she released her hold. “But I have tried to do my duty. And , how I have blundered —" Her voice. I her delicious voice, broke here. But j she controlled herself and smiled re- j assurance Into my eye*. So we stood until the central committee reached us. anti Shorty, marching with two guards, said: •Give me the key!” And as he said this, be cast at Constance a frown of surprise and disapproval. I had been forming my plan. I had not dared confide it to Constance. It would give the refugee more time —all or nothing for me now! I saw that Taylor was not with the centre! committee. And' swallowing my sickening fears. I lied. “The key?” 1 said, affecting surprise as well as I could. “Why. the door's unlocked. No one's In there. Mr. Taylor came and took him away—with a guard ”' “Sounds to me like a d—o lie!" said Shorty, his eyes traveling from me to Constance. “What—" but Marcus cot him off. “Taylor was in the courtroom last time I saw him. One of you guards—you. Robertson—go look for him." The face of Marcus seemed ten year* older. Hts bright eyes had gone dim; the dark bristles of his unshaven cheek* emphasized the waxy yellow of hla complexion. And through my anxiety, my mounting terror, my battle for resolution, I spared energy for regret that I was deceiving him, my friend, my partner. Back, too. . , . Between the file of guards Tayter came running. The crowd, sensing some hitch in the proceedings, was pushing toward the Jail. The guards were forcing them back. Taylor had reached our group. “What’s he panted. “What’s thia about taking away the prisoner? I haven’t even seen him!“ The voice of Constance, rich, level, even: “No, gentlemen. I let him go." -That isn’t so!" I cried. “I had the key. 1 unlocked the door and raisessd (TO BB COXTXMVBD.) L I The too constant use even of good things is burtfuL—Eyrua. „ . C

I AROUND THE HOME „ I , ■ - By MARGARET BRUCE ........ ... WNV Servlc* Oar SAtmng Saucepans In the descriptions of old-time kitchens, met within fiction and folk stories. there is always a “row of shining { pans” reflecting the rosy, beaming face of the cook I Generally these are cop- | per saucepans, and their reddish glow ' fills those of us who love the gleam ' of copper with a pang of yearning. But copper Is not a practicable mateI rial for the less sturdy housewives of ' today. It is very soft and must be lined with a heavy coating of some better-wearing metal, which also will not affect food chemically as copper is said to do. So we must content ourselves with snowy porcelain or silj very aluminum. These present-day utensils, however, can be kept a “shining row" if they are polished and cared for as assiduously as the old-time housekeepers cared for their copper. . Aluminum especially has its own particular cleansers and metallic sponges, and by following the instructions given with these polishes one may always have clear silver-gray saucepans, teakettle. double boilers, and cooking spoons. ■> A very efficient housekeeper told me recently that one should not scoqr thin aluminum saucepans too vigorously or too often. Very good llttl® saucepans can be secured now for ten cents each, but they must be handled gently, as the handles bend easily and too hard rubbing will soon wear them through. If a metallic sponge is used on them. It should be wielded very sketchily. Never use ammonia or washing soda on an aluminum utensil. Steel and iron skillets, on the contrary. may be kept smoothly clean by boiling a half-teaspoon of washing soda In them. Every trace of grease is dissolved and vanishes down the sink; and this bath of boiling sodawater is the best thing in the world for the drain pipe of the sink as well. I Tin is totally out of It, as a cooking container. It blackens quickly, and gets out of shape. Gray enamel or granite are within reach now of the slimmest purse, and these materials are easily cleaned, so that our “shining row" may be maintained by a little dally care. Color in Cookery “This is the prettiest salad I evet saw In my life!" said one of the guests . l<W i imiir ■ at a luncheon givi n en to a group of young matrons. f Before her at ; the little round M table was a salad i plate of cool yellow Chinese ware -jp holding a round- ! „ ing bed of CaliforniR l ett uce. Upon the lettuce was an amazing-look-1 ins Piece of fruit—- . a *’ u " delicate green, with a stem at the top. A spoonful of golden mayonnaise at one side, and a sprig or two of cress, completed the most Inviting spring concoction imaginable. But what on earth could the fruit be for? It was a fruit, as evidenced by , the stem. Could It be some one of the tropical fruits—some queer pomegranate or pear or melon? The guests peered and wondered. I But when forks were at last applied to the odd fruit and its flavor tasted, it proved to be merely a delicious cooked apple, soft but not mushy, chilled to perfection and of melt-in-j the-mouth quality. When begged for ! particulars the hostess explained that the apples were peeled, leaving only | the stem at the top. and boiled until tender in a pure sugar sirup to which j a little green vegetable coloring had been added. As it boiled slowly the I apple absorbed the delicate color and ; became quite a different-looking fruit. A slice of lemon had been added to j the sirup to give zest. “At Christmas time 1 cooked the apples In a brixht red sirup.” coni tided the housewife, “and you have no ' 4dea how pretty they were. They can be made pink by using less of the red j coloring, and there is a yellow dye. an orange and a lovely lavender. I don’t like to call these colorings | "dyes.’ as It doesn’t sound wholesome, but of course these vegetable products . are entirely pure and harmless and can be safely used. You can make such attractive dishes for luncheons by using different color schemes. “Other fruits can be colored in the same way. of course, and sometimes I make colored whipped cream for desserts. The least little drop of coloring tints a large amount of sirup or cream. I depend upon these colorings very largely In making my table pretty, not only for special occasions, but for everyday menus.” Malta Prine of War After 1590 Malta was an independent state, until seised by Napoleon in ITOB. For the next two years it was blockaded by the British fleet, aided by the Maltese, and was then occupied by Britain until the treaty of Paris in 1814. when it was finally annexed to the British crown. Upe and Downt It success goes to your head you’ll eventually find yourself at the foot.— Kokomo Dispatch.

Uniform Marking System Is Urged Plan Would Reduce Errors in Regard to Ownership to Minimum. (Prepared by the United States Department of Agriculture.) Marketing of live stock in co-opera-tive shipments is a very important feature in conducting the business of the shipping association,’especially if | the stock is to be sold according to ownership or if the commission firm is expected to prorate the returns to each owner. It would be advisable to establish a uniform system of marking live stock for use by all associations J In the country, says the United States Department of Agriculture. Such a plan would reduce errors in regard to the ownership to a minimum. A system of marking which is suitable to the needs of all associations lias been suggested, and is, briefly, as follows: Mark Cattie and Calves. Cattle and calves would be marked by using shears to clip four-inch Roman numerals on one hip. preferably the right hip. Only the first ten numerals would be used. A single bar. like a minns sign, placed before each numeral would raise the number by ten. Two parallel bars before each numeral would raise It by 20. Thus V, —V. =V, would mean 5, 15, and 25, respectively. Hogs are marked by clipping the numerals on the top of the shoulder, back, or rump, using only such combinations as can be made with four marks or less. Or they may be marked on the side of the shoulder, body, or ham. in which ease not to exceed three marks would be used. Shears with curved blades about* eight inches i long, commonly called “coaching shears” are most generally used for marking. Fluid for Sheep. She4p are marked by using branding fluid applied with a half-inch stiff round-bristle brush. The marks should be placed on the head, top of shoulders, back, or rump. In no case should paint be used for marking any j kind of live stock. It is detrimental to the wool of sheep and unsatisfactory on hogs because It smears. Cut Alfalfa Soon After It Lodges, Says Expert Just what is the best time to cut alfalfa«for hay. all things considered. Is a problem which farmers and agricultural experiment station workers have not definitely solved, according to A. C. Amy. field crops specialist of the Minnesota Agricultural Experiment station in a talk before a group of scientists at the Minnesota station. About one thing, however, Mr. Amy was emphatic, and that was that alfalfa should be cut very soon after It lodges, as It does generally in Minnesota. The reason for this Is that when the crop lodges the leaves underneath turn yellow and fall off and the hay produced is decidedly inferior. In 1924 alfalfa cut before lodging retained 50 per ceqt of its leaves, while alfalfa cut after lodging retained only 24 per cent. Mr. Amy. therefore, advises the Immediate cutting of alfalfa that has lodged, even if It is only in tfce bud stage. Black Raspberry Culture The old wood of black rasperrles should be pruned out as soon as it* has fruited, and the laterals on this year’s wood should be cut back to a foot or 18 inches next spring before growth starts. Clean cultivation Is the rule, usually done with a onehorse cultivator, although the small garden tractors are beginning to take the place of the horse. On very light soli, a shallow cultivation after each heavy rain will be found beneficial, and case the surface soil should be kept loose and open. Blindness in Hens. Hens may become blind due to bits of foreign material lodging around the eyeball and starting Irrltatipn. or it may be due to occular roup. Most forms of colds and roup cause more or less trouble in the eye* of the bird, j The blindness and weakness may be the symptom* of some disease. Somej times a hen gradually becomes blind, due to cause* which it seems almost impossible to determine. In such case* the only remedy is to kill the bird. Exhibiting Cattle Exhibiting good cattle at fair* t« the best local advertising possible, but leading out thin, undersized cattle la expensive advertising. Dairy cattle need only be In moderate flesh to show to advantage. Cattle to be shown i should receive some grain, however, from now until fair time and large amounts of hay In order to develop middle. It will Improve the quality of hide and hair to blanket the animals with burlap sacks for six weeks previous to showing. farm HintZ Don't turn cattle or sheep In clover when the dew is still on. They are likely to bloat. Cattle should be blanketed for a period of six weeks prior to showing them at the county fair. • • • It usually pays to spray potatoes i even though there may not be any | conspicuous'blight on them. Young chickens should have plenty ' of range and roosting space If they I are to make good gains. Food will not compensate for scanty quarters, especially if they are to be breeding stock. • • • A root storage cellar is an essential part of the farm equipment. A bulletin put out by the New York state college of agriculture describes the construction and management of them Ask for It by number —E 22. % ......

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