The Syracuse Journal, Volume 20, Number 37, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 12 January 1928 — Page 9

IDLE ISLAND

CHAPTER L It might have been a tall, straight, «lim young boy who stood alone, far up in the bow of the white steamer as she nosed from island to island in her cun up Vasco bay; boylike the feet Irfanted squarely In sturdy English "walking boots, the hands thrust’deep into the pockets of smartly tailored knickers; boylike the set of the straight shoulders in the wine-red suede Jacket •with the soft silk mannish collar and tie showing at the throat; boylike most of all the g,!eek bobbed head In Jaunty leather all the boy Ish cast of Gay Delane was given the tie by the softness of her slender face <the delicacy of heiAthroat as It curved into the mannish collar, the dark •weariness of her grave eyes, the tired •drooping of her fine red Ups. . 'Die rest that Gay Delane came seek ling in the Northland, she had earned indeed. Years of wilful slavery to /paint brushes and palette, dogged per sistence at her easel in the face ol physical exhaustion, led Inevitably to relinquishment of hopes, ambitions and plans, and Gay Delane was obliged to turn the key at last upon her prettv studio in (Greenwich Village and go in se.-irch of recreating rest among the •cooling breezes* along the pine-girdled ■coast of the North. ’ Her slender sturdy foot was first upon fthe gangplank, and it was she •who lied the stream of eager tourists ashore, making her way with impatiently quick assurance to the head • -ear of a line of waiting taxis. Her (brisk gesture of intent to ride brought up a tall, fair, freckled lad. who came -with slow but willing gait, an am (bling roll to his locomotion that was almost seaworthy. “I want to look at cottages,” she said briskly. ‘•Well—all right,” he assented slow«y. in the soft New England drawl that curiously harmonized with his walk. Cay thought. He cranked the car and slid into the driver’s seat Gay swung •up beside him. “Now, I’ll tell you exactly what 1 ■want,” she began, “and you can take •me to it. A small cottage, preferably, •off by Itself somewhere, with trees -around it, and near the water. Quiet, very quiet. I am going to sleep for two weeks. If I can t find a cottage, I will take a suite of rooms in a private house. With an old couple, if possible, deaf and dumb and a bit crippled, if you have them. No hotel mo boarding house, no summer colony Now, there it is. First choice, small, quiet, furnished cottage. I don’t care if it is only a shed. If it is quiet and cool, and alone.” “Well, now, that ought to be easy,' 1 he said slowly. “How many are there ' of you?” 1 “one. Me. Just myself, no more.' “You don’t want a house all by yourself.' All of outraged New, England con ■vention spoke in his slow low voice, “Oh, yes, 1 do. Not a very big .’bouse, but a house.” = “But you can’t stay nights in a bouse by yourself—” Gay cut in briskly: “Now, the chances are that I know what I want better than you do. All you have to do is to find it.” Then, as she noticed that his eyes fell and a slow flush rose in his fair face at her rebuke. she added pleasantly: “1 have lived alone for eight years. In New York, too, that den of depravity.. I fancy there is no more rampant danger here than there.” “Another one of them nutty New Yorkers.” the boy thought, but his impassive face did not betray him. He drove slowly from bouse to house, descanting on their various virtues, decrying their obvious faults, specifying the number of rooms, rhe condition of the plumbing and the amount of rent. Gay was difficult to suit While her own notion of what she wanted was indefinite enough, she was quick to , decide what she did not want. One too close to neighbors, one was in a swampy marsh, one looked cockroach?. “I never heard tell of any cocknotches there.” he said thoughtfully. “Seems like folks would have mentioned it.”*’ But Gay waved him on. •‘There’s the Lone Fine.” he reflected at last, hard pressed for further resources. “But It’s off by itself on the hill, and at the edge of the woods You’d be afraid there. But it's high And it looks out to sea.” “The Lone Pine,” she repeated, and her voice warmed. “I feel the vibration of a responsive chord. Lead me to it.” He stopped the car at last in a nar row lane. A grassy slope rose steeply beyond a small orchard, and crowning the hill, seeming a growth of the rocks themselves like a giant mushroom, a small cottage showed in the fringe of a little wood. Gay breathed a rapturous “Ah!" She got out without a word, and the lad followed her through the otchard “1 will have it,” she said, looking up with Joy in her eyes, “1 will have It if 1 have to commit murder. Those birches are going to sentinel my sleep, t Those rocks shall be my anchorage. Mmder. arson, theft—wtrni are these to me? The Lone Pine will give me sleep.” “Well, now," he said deprecatingiy, with a sidelong look at her flushing face. _ The cottage was built of weather plained shingle and natural rock, and , stJaxl on a ledge where jthe grassy slope dwindled to solid stone. Before its door stood one twisted, craggly pine, a’nd behind It, so that indeed it stood in its very portal, the little for est of birch and pine rustled and shivered in the sea breeze. The doors of the cottage were closed and their knocking produced no an ■ swer. The ad was toath to accept this inadmission. He knocked and I knocked, frowning dissatisfaction at * the unfriendly silence. “till rleres nobody -here.” Gay pra ■ t»- i “ »tir pounding would have

By ETHEL HUESTON Copyright 1927-by The Bobbs-Merrill Co. WNU Service awakened the—the druids by this .time.” “She be here,” .he insisted. “She’s always here. Auntalmiry!" he called. “Auntalmiry!” Gay laughed at his persistence. “If she’s here, she’s deaf.” she said, and walked around the cottage, from window :o window, peering in. And tie more her spying showed her. the more warmly she wanted it. The tower floor of the cottage con sisted of one large room, the small kitchen being no more than a glassed in porch adjoining. It was lined throughout with pine, darkly stained Windows opened on the four sides of it, to the forest, to slope ano rtu valley, to the quiet hay. ur.d to the full Atlantic and the farther islands. The room was chastely furnished. with occasional bright splashes of color on the walls or -in the up bolstering. The fireplace was wide and high, built of island stone, with corner benches of the dark pine. "A darling fireplace,” Gay exulted. “Band did that. Folks mostly thought he wasted a lot of time on it.” the boy vouchsafed pleasantly. “Come here." Gay called to him. And directing his eyes to a bright corner of the room she said. “Look! Do you see that wide soft couch with that woolen’robe, and the fat cushions? 1 shall be sound asleep there in twenty minutes. Do you : suppose folks would be surprised if I should break the door down ami go right in and fall asleep?” “Well, yes, I rather think maybe they would.” “Now I Take me to its Guardian Angel. But it is mine already, if he —that is the Guardian Angelwishes to rent it, well and good. Otherwise I shall simply throttle him, and burn his remains in my fireplace. Lead on. Mac Duff;” The boy eyqd her warily as she marched before him down the grassy slope and through the orchard. But he reassured her about the cottage. He said the Captain would sure ly rent it. because it was for rent Naturally, that settled it If Gay wanted it, it was hers. And Gay wanted it. The house to which he took her was but a short distance up the same lane “If you make the deal with the Captain you’ll get it cheaper,” he cautioned her. “But they may try to wish you off on Miss Alice, ’cause she’s the administrator, and she holds out for more money. You ask for the Cap tain and stick to it. You’d better go to the kitchen door. miss. If you go tc tlip front door they’ll think you’re com pany." Gay nodded back at him. smiling, and crossed a velvety lawn 40 the kitchen door which was opened to het touch by a little old man. very gray, very frail, very gentle If he felt surprise at sight of the boyish girl it khaki gray and red leather on his step he gave no sijfn. but in a soft and gen fie voice he greeted her “May I speak to the Captain?” she began brightly. “Well, now, 1 guess you can, seein s I’m the Captain myself,” he said sociably, and stepped out discreetly to the porch, making as if to dost the door behind him. But his attempted secrecy failed. The closing door was suddenly ar rested. A firm band appeared in the aperture. and closed upon his arin. The Captain looked back with gentle im patience. “Lady wishes to .-onsult with me—personally—” he protested mildly. “Now. Gramp, you wouldn’t keep the lady standing.” remonstrated a firm voice from within. And the door the Captair wak drawn back to the kitchen. “Come rigjit in, miss, and do ex cuse our looks, won’t you? But it is right in the midst of cleaning and —” Gay lightly nodded away the need for apology, and sat down on the edge of a little straight chair beside the stove, while the Captain returned to his own big rocker by the window be tween two cats and a nuge dog. wtr> curled his thick lips over his teeth in resentment at this intrusion in his kitchen. The three women retired at once to their work in different parts of the room, and the Captain filled his pipe. At Gay’s eager Inquiry he admitted nis ownership of the Loae Pine, agreed that it was for rent, and said of course she could have it. Gay beamed upon tiim joyously, beamed at the unconscious backs of the three women, who. for all their immersion in their house hold tasks, had missed not so much as a syllable of talk, nor a thread of fringe on Gay’s smart knickers. Suddenly a sharp knock on the kitchen door, which immediately opened from without, and before either face or form appeared, a brisk voice called with a great assumption of good cheer: “Good morning, all!” The words were followed by a worn an, elderly, but tail and straight, with a face which had carefully schooled its every line to dogged optimism. “Good morning, all, ’ she repeated on her full appearance, and added. • alher sternly. “Good morning, John.” Then she turned to Gay with elaborate affability. “Good morning. I saw you looking at the >.« ne Pine, ano heo as you came on heie 1 knew you wanted it, so 1 came right over. How lucky you are—the dear little cottage! And cheap, my dear, dirt cheap. Do you want it for the entire season?” “Well, yes, I think so.” Gay turned doubtfully toward the Captain, who had acknowledged ownership. “But it seems to be occupied—” “Oh, no,” he denied promptly, and for all his slowness, and his gentleness, he was deft in the insertion ot his opinion. “Not yet. But 1 never worry, about that cottage, not that one. it always rents. Popular, the Lone Pine. Well built, snug—like a

boat, something like a boat, but of course a boat now—” The oratorical voice cut in upon him. “A most desirable cottage. Only fifty dollars a month, my dear. Only fifty." “It a’n’t wuth more’n forty-five.’* said the Captain gently. “Now, Alice, she don’t want to pay fifty a month. 'Tain’t wuth fifty a month. We never got fifty for it yet. The young lady—” “John. Fifty dollars. lam the administrator.” The voice was low and firm. “It a’n’t wuth it. Miss, 1 assure you, it a’n’t,’’ he persisted. “I built it—me and Rand, that is—" “John.” “Whose cottage is It, anyway?” Gay put in curiously. “Oh. it’s all in the family as you might say,” the Captain explained. “1 get the rent, but she collects It. She’s rhe administrator. My sister. Mis' Andover, Mis’ Alice Andover.” “The administrator,' she amended grandly, trying vainly to frown her brother into silence. ‘The cottage has been thoroughly renovated, and mod ern improvements installed. It is well furnished, as you know 1 saw you looking in the windows. Il has electric lights, fireplace, oath—only fifty u month. My, dear, think of the view Think of—of the fireplace. My dear it will break your heart to leave rhe place. Perhaps you can stay through September. Glorious in September, glorious.” Regardless of the mooted five dollars, Gay’s mind was made up. She wanted the Lone Pine. She knew that she could never rest until she felt the pillows in its window conch beneath her head. She explained tiiat she nad left her bags at the hotel in the city, and asked if the cottage could be ready for her arrival on the first boat the next morning. The administrator, torn between glowing at Gay, and glowering at her brother assured her that all would be in readiness. “Oh, my dear, it is a nappy summer before you,” she crooned. And then, with one of her swift changes from soft to severe, she turned to the Cap tain. “John, you go right down and tell Auntalmiry to move into the Apple Tree.” At Gay’s start the Captain shook with soundless chuckles, and the ad ministrator lapsed into a severe smile. “It a’n’t a tree, child, it a’n’t a tree,” he explained. “It’s our house. Down in the orchard. We name al! our houses or such We’ve got an Acorn, and a Cherry Stone, and a Persian Peach—” “John ! Go tell Auntalmiry." John readied beneath his big rocker and pulled out a dusty battered cap. turned it upside down to empty it of two kittens asleep therein. “I can’t go now, Alice.” he objected. “Not Just tills -minute. 1 got to go right up to Mrs. Willoughby's cottage and fix that leaky roof of hers.” His eyes strayed to the clock on the kitchen wall. It was two-thirty. “Gosha’mighty, I promised Mrs. Willoughby I’d be theVe at one. sharp. Good-by, miss. You’ll like that cottage, but it a’u’t wuth more’n fortyfive." “John Wallace. Tell Auntalmiry—” “Looks like rain, miss—think? I should ’a’ fixed that roof yesterday, or •lay before. Seems tike there’s so many things to do that 1 lust natural ly don’t get at any of em. Good-by miss. I’ll come and see you.” As the door closed beneath the gentle, frail, dignified little figure, tire strong voice called in his wake: “John—Auntalmiry—” She was an attractive woman, admirable, rath?r, Mrs. Andover, tastefully dressed, with a general air of well-being, well-keptness She dis missed her brother with a wave of the hand, and smiled upon Gay with more spontaneity now that site was relieved of the necessity of supporting his softness with her personal firmness. As an administrator, she was di reel, efficient and businesslike In return for Gay’s check, she sat down at the kitchen table and from a velvet bag on her wrist took out a fountain pen and a book of receipt forms, one of which she filled in. carefully, and handed to Gay with a J et of keys for the cottage.“And if you can stay in September, you will love it,” she said warmly “You will adore it. When will the rest of your family be up?” “There is no family. lam alone.” “You —you—you are going to live alone—in a house? Without a—a man, or—anybody?” “It is better than living with a man who doesn’t belong to me, Is it not? Are there no other women Who live alone on the island?” “Welt—there are a few. But they are—old.” “Less able to protect themselves, then, than 1. But are they al) old? Every one? Think hard.” “Well, there are one or two,” she confessed reluctantly. “Not so very old. But they are—queer.’ “Oh. so am L’ said Gay sturdily. ‘Very queer indeed.” (TO HE CONTINUED.) Blessing the Beasts A quaint ceremony is that still obtaining in some parts of Normandy, the benediction des bestiaux. The oxen- and the draft horses are assembled in front of the church. There may also be a bullock or two and perhaps some cows. The procession of peasants, clad in their very best, issues from the church to the sound of a chant that is droned by the priest. The venerable cure sprinkles a few drops of water on the heads of the beasts and when all the animals have received the benediction the next .feature of the ceremony is to place at the pedestal of. the cross facing the church certain bundles tied in coarse linen. These bundles contain bread and salt, which are to be given to those beasts not able to attend the ceremony, says the Washington Star. Let hope for what we will, but let us bear what befalls us.- Cicero.

TTTF SYRACUSE JOURNAL

fttkatare made Home _ — 1 * * \\>=—•

HERE’S something out ot the or (Unary in the matter of “pretty things that are made at home”— trees -made of sealing wax for table decoration. Inspired by the beaut v and effectiveness of the crystal oi glass trees which are at present the popular thing for decorating party or banquet table, genius has contrived to produce their likeness out of glitter ing sealing wax. If .you have the following materials you are equipped to make these trees: Sealing wax, white spool wire, also annealed wire, flower stamens and beads. You will also need an alcohol lamp, a wax molder and a piece of glass to work on. For form and arrangement or leaves, buds and branches, real trees can be observed or else a study of pictures of trees can he made. There are two methods of making the leaves: One is to spread lite seal ing wax over a crepe paper foundation . the other is to use the sealing wax only, molding it into form. The former produces opaque leaves in an\ chosen colors; the latter, being of the transparent wax, most resembles the imported glass trees. To make the leaves with Crepe pa per foundation, form whit,e spool wire into a ring about the size which would slip off an ordinary candle (Sketch No. 1). Shape this like a leaf (Sketch No. 2). Cover wire frame with paste and place tietween two pieces ol stretched crepe paper the color yon

VELVET PLAYS ITS PART FOR JUVENILE ENSEMBLES / / -1 .. Mt '' >/I 1 I : / W IM H '■ /W > I - ' ■•H 4.

FOR gruwn-ups to monopolize all the beautiful velvet in the world would not be playing quite fair. S<» Dame Fashion is seeing to it that tiny tots get theii share of this beautiful fabric Being midwintei. interest centers about coats ot velvet with hats to match. The little girl to the left in the picture has reason to feel pretty much ‘dressed up.” clad as she is ir a black velvet coat which is collared and cuffed In spotted ermine. Tht crowning glory of this little miss is her hat which Is ot matching velvet with wee ermine tails. That the en semhle idea has invaded the realm ot childhood’s fashions is a fact empha sized throughout the displays in shops and departments devoted to apparel for little folks. Just because a little girl is not rich is no reason for he? not becoming tin owner ot Just such a pretty velve’ ensemble as the one slfown here. That is if mother happierts to be the kind who delights in making wee daugh ter’s dresses and coats and such. Jus; a remnant ot velvet will suffice for rhe coal and rhe cunning shi- cd na> can be made of the “left-over pieces Sweaters Are Fussy Sweaters this year are “fussier” than ever before. They are decorated with all kinds of odd stripes and designs in solid colors and in degrade effects. The desigrfs include everything frpni a plain small check pat tern to a wide lightning flash. Visor Hat A Reboux black felt hat that cups the back of the head smartly has a tiny brim that, starting at nothing on the sides, .flares into a visor.

want your leaf (Sketch No. 3). When paste is dry trim close' to wire frame (Sketch No. 4). The next step is to cover witii sealing wax. Hold the leaf near the alcohol lamp, heat light amber wax in flame, covering entire surface drop by drop (Sketch No. 5). smoothing with the palette knife. To make leaves of solid sealing wax heat the wax (transparent amber) by holding over flame of alcohol lamp slowly revolving it tnitil it can tie cut witii scissors in pieces abyut one-half inch long or more according to t Insize of leaf desired. Let this drop upon a piece of glass, then heat end of a three and one-half injrh length ot the annealed uncovered stec' wire an ' stick it into tlie soft wax. Pick up with lingers ami mold into leaf shape Mark veins of the leaf with the flat palette kpife or molder as it is called Form branches by assembling the leaves, twisting theit long wire steins together, wrapping them with crept paper or trfcoteen. After the tree Is complete paint the brunches with seal mg wax which has been dissolved bj placing it in denatured alcohol *over night. Tfieoteen (a gauze interwoven with tinsel) gives a sparkle to the tree. Blossoms are made by wiring sev eral leaves in a group, centering them with glass jewels or beads Small pieces of wax heated slightly over the alcohol flame are pressed around the base of the trunk for a holder.

Fortunately it happens to be just the time of year when the stores are offer ing wonderful bargains in short lengths of velvet. To some mothers the idea ot a cloth coat trimmed with velvet has a direct appeal for the reason that such a com’ • an he worn throughout all the spring .months, if it be not t<»o heavily Inter liitsd. A very charming styling is sug gested in the coat pictured to the right. Scalloped suede finished cloth overlays a deep velvet bordering up and down the front opening. The but tons also add a pleasing trimming touch. The little hat which complements this coat is very interesting in that its wee ripple brim Is of velvet, as >.« also rhe motif appliqued on the clotn crown \ An outstanding instance ot the en semhle theme is that of the tailored wool chinchilla cloth outfits which both little boys and little girls are wearing. These include coats, single or double breasted, tints with a wev rolling rim amt leggins which have zijiper fastenings JULIA BOTi’OMI.EY. (© 1928 Western Newspaper Union.) Ultra Smart If you would be ultra smart this season add some Individual touch to your hat. Perfectly plain models are passe. Short-Waisted The short-waisted silhouette is often achieved by means of a girdle of selfmaterial at the natural waistline. One of the most distinctive new colors for winter is a shade of beige bordering on the putty tone.

0- the: • .ma KITCHEN CABINETEafcfI (©. 1928. Western Newspaper Union.) Beauty mingled with invention, founded on the observation of nature, is the mainspring of decorative design. If it is not beautiful, it has no right to exist: if founded on the observation ot nature, it can hardly be either beautiful or inventive. It Is apt to become merely gtrange and monstrous when It departs from na- • ture. —William Morris. APPROPRIATE GOOD THINGS When serving flsh a nice croquette) which will add to the course is:

Hominy and; Horse radii h.— , Take one-fourth ■ of a cupful of* macaroni, steam j it until tender,! add one-half tea- ■ sprainful of salt, three-foprths of a .

cupful of scalded milk arid cook until It is absorbed. Add two tablespoonfuls of butter, three and one-half teaspoonfuls of grated horseradish roo». Mix well-and put away to cool. Sliajie as desired and dip into crumbs —egg and crumbs again. Fry in deep fa* drain on brown paper. A nitfe .sandwich to serve with fish for luncheon or a supper dish is pre pared thus: Cut the crusts from* bread and spiead with horseradish; butter. To make this, cream six table ■ spoonfuls of butter and add gradually four tablespoonfuls of grated horse radish, one teaspoonful of lemon juice and salt and cayenne to taste. Indian Tapioca Pudding.—Scak five tablespoonfuls of pearl tapioca two hours in cold water to cover. Pour. four cupfuls of scaldefl milk over four fablespoonfuls of cornmeal and cook in a double boiler until the mixture thickens. Add the tapioca drained, and three-fourths of a cupful ot mo j hisses, three tablespoonfuls of butter, one and one-half teaspoonfuls of salt Turn into a buttered dish and cover with one cupful of cold milk. Do not stir. Bake one and hours in a moderate oven. Bnked Crumbed Potatoes.—Force hot boiled potatoes through a ricer: to three’and one-half cupfuls of potatoes add three tahlespoonfuls of butter, one and one-half teaspoonfuls of salt and one-fourth teaspoonful of pep per. Add* two-thirds of a cupful of hot milk and beat the potatoes vigorously. Turn into a buttered baking’ dish, (tour over one-half cupful of heavy cream, sprinkle with well buttered crumbs and bake until hrowu

Rhubarb Raisin Pudding.—The fresh or canned rhubarb may be used for this recipe: Sprinkle witii sugar to sweeten and let stand an hour or so if the fresh rhubarb is used. Mix one pint of crumbs with two tablespoonfuls of melted butter and one cupful of chopped raisins. Put into the pudding dish in layers of rhubarb, raisins ! and crumbs; finish the top with buttered crumbs. Serve with a hard or . liquid sauce, using some of the fruit juice if desired. Foods for Occasions. A delightful little dainty which may be served as a luncheon dish is:

Ham Canape. — Mix one-fourth cupful of deviled ham or chopped boiled ham seasoned with mustard, tabasco, kitchen bouquet, and a little tom.-ito sauce. Spread the

l ii Jstoiiii «' 1 k II 1 j

j mixture on diamonds of hot buttered toast, cover with grated cheese, then with buttered crumbs; brown in a hot i oven and serve hot. Liver Canape.—Simmer halt a pound 'of liver until tender enough to he pierced with a straw Put it through ; the meat chopper twice, rejecting all the stringy portions. Rub to a paste with a fork, season Xvith one-fourth ; teaspoonful of salt, a tablespoonful of melted butter and pepper and celery j salt to taste. Add enough seasoned ' tomato sauce to make of rhe consistency of mayonnaise. Spread on finger ; strips of rye bread sauted in butter and garnish with sliced stuffed olives. Honey Sandwiches. — Remove the brown skin from brazil nuts and chop them as fine as possible, adding a few grains of salt; mix to a paste with honey. Spread on rounds of buttered bread, cover with a slice from which a small round or star-shaped center is removed. Garnish each center with a maraschino cherry Peanut Sandwiches.- (’rush freshly roasted peanuts with a colli ig pin, salt lightly and mix to a paste with whipped cream. Spread on buttered whole wheat bread and garnish with three steamed raisins, arranged in the form of a three-leaf cl< ver The raisins are steamed by putting them In a sieve over the top of the teakettle, covering the strainer with the teaket tie cover. Mexican Melange.—Cook one chopped sweet pepper in two tahlespoonfuls of fat left from salt pork or sausages. When well cooked add one pint of ■ canned tomatoes, one pint ot canned corn, one teaspoonful of salt, the same of grated onion and a generous dash of cayenne pepper. Simmer eight minutes and thicken slightly with a tableI spoonful of flour mixed with a little i water Serve with sausage or bacon. : With nil kinds of fruit, jellies, preserves, pickles and conserves which j the farm wife delights to put up there j will always be the dainty accessories 1 which add much to the table, and also 1 variety. "yUxU-c uretC Supply of Castor Oil Vast fields of castor oil plants grow wild in Mexico, It is reported. There are two varieties,' one of , woody growth, whose seeds yield I about 30 per cent of oil, and the other ■ of herbaceous habit, with seeds yleldi ing about 50 per cent of oil. Watering Flowers Ferns and other plants in window boxes are often ruined by watering too much. Hhey should be watered regularly but not excessively.

SUV L STOCKS OATS MAKE GOOD / FEED FOR SWINE In a general way we all know that oats are a g<a>d feed for pigs, but they are not espe ially well adapted for fattening purposes. The question often arises, what are oats actually worth, pound for pound, as compared with I corn. This matter has been tested by a number of our coru-belt experiment stations. One test, concluded by the Ohio station in January of this year, shows that when oats were fed with tqnkage and alfalfa meal to 48pound pigs, they consumed 420 pounds oats, 12 pounds tankage and 14 pounds alfalfa meal pec 100 pounds gain. Another lot of pigs of the same age and weight, fed in the sanie man ) ner, consumed 330 pounds corn. 40 ! pounds tankage and 12 pounds alfalfa ‘ meal per 100 pounds gain The oat i lc- gained 1.08 pounds per head per day and the corn lot 1.10, making the : gains practically id»‘n'ical I Comparing the oat consumption I with that of the corn, one pound of i corn was equal to about 1.25 pounds of oats However, owing to the larger constimptiiHi of tankage by rhe corn ; lot in this case, the oats really showed a higher feeding value than is usually assigned to them. Roughly speaking, within the ordinary limits of market prices, oats are worth a little less per bushel than half the price of a bushel of corn Or. slntinr the same facts in different words, pound for pound, oats are Worth about 2*> per ; cent less as a. hog feed than corn. This Is due largely to the hulls which. | of course, have no feeding value and. ' in fact, for hog-feeding purposes, are a detriment. It should he ,noted in connection with the tests herein referred to that both lots of pigs were also fed minerals. alfalfa meal and tankage In one feeding test with oats, in which alfalfa meal was not used, the results were very unsatisfactory. Alfalfa Is a splendid feed in that it adds not only mineral matter ajid protein to the ration, but also vitamlne D. the antirachitic vitamine. When the ration c< ntains an abundance of vitamlne D, the pig is able to assimilate a larger amount of mineral matter In the absence of the needed amount of mineral matter or when a bog fails to assimilate the minerals in its ration, weak hones, due to the disease known as rickets, often develop. I Exercise Breeding Ewes to Have Thrifty Lanibs If breeding ewes can bt marie to walk at least one mile everv day in getting a large part of their roughage, the Vliances for a crop of strong, thrifty lambs nCxt spring are much better than.it the ewes are allow<«d to loat in the yard around the barn j or shed. | It is a good practice to scatter tire ropgliage in the- fields or past ores I each day during dear weather when •|he ground is frozen or dry. they «iy. I In this way the ewes will have* to take 1 exercise in getting the roughage feeds. When it can be done, the Hock shopld ! be shut away from the haritytird in ' the field or pasture .during the day ,| and made to rustle for its feed In so far . as housing is concerned. ! warm barns, except during the lamle ing season if the lambs come in cold I weather, are not desirable tor lire, fling sheep. The wool protects the | >heep from cold and all it needs shelter froti cold, sharp winds and a dry place to sleep. ,

V Live Stock Notes t ».orses and mules that are doing hard work must have plenty of grain. ♦ * * Profitable pork production demands the use of good sard -fry pasture. • • • Close observations of sows and pigs have many times indicated thflt animals on self-feeders look "better and are more thrifty than those that are i hand fed. • • • : Whet poor corn and tankage are put before hogs in self-feeders they .often eat not enough corn but too , much tankage and self-feeding is tinprofitable. The ordinary stockyards are a Intost continually Infected with all sorts of contagious diseases. Animals should nevet he taken from the st.ckyards back to the farm. • • • Experience has shown that pigs which have grazed oil clover alfalfa or other summer and fall forage crops will incur J.e least risk >f suffering fron too much green < orn. • . • r .»n open shed for stock is as. necessary and important as any building on the farm . • • • A horse which weighs 1.400 pounds should he given from 14 to 10 pounds o. grain ncr day and about the same amroc •* hay weaning time can be turn ‘ie corn field and they will eat i ii leaves and husks, do well, mid oe in good condition for the market before they have learned, to eat corn from the cob. Corn is the great silage trop and •cattle ate the animals to which the ■silo means the most. • • • Are the shotes doing poorly? Probably they have worms. Good pigs and worms can no more be raised together than good corn and weeds. * ♦ ♦ I Losses from hog cholera should he :avoided. If precautions tire taken in ,time. they can be. Vaccination properly done, with good serum and in time, is an absolute preventive for hog choler ‘