~ Rainbow's End A NOVEL by REX BEACH ^ , Author of-THE IRON TRAIL." ••THE SPOILER#," '• i "HEART OP THE SUNSET,'* Etc. * <l> (Coprright, by Ha O'REILLY MAKES LOVE BADLY, BUT WELL ENOUGH TO T* •r&j 4^": mm- ' * WIN THE HEART OF ROSA. ^ 1 \fji • » Synopsis.--Don Esteban Varona; a Cuban planter, hides his wealth --money, jewels and title deeds--in a well on his estate. The hiding place is known only to Sebastian, a slave. Don Esteban's wife dies at the birth of twins, Esteban and Rosa. Don Esteban marries the avaricious Donna Isabel, who tries unsuccessfully to wring the secret of the hidden treasure from Sebastian. Angered at his refusal, she urges Don Esteban to sell Evangelina, Sebastian's daughter. Don 'Esteban refuses, but in the course of a gambling orgie, he risks fivangelina at cards and loses. Crazed by the loss of his daughter, •Sebastian kills Don Esteban and is himself killed. Many years pass and Donna Isabel is unable to find the hidden treasure. Don Mario, rich sugar merchant, seeks to marry Rosa, who has returned from school in the United States. CHAPTER III--Continued "Colonel Lopez !** exclaimed O'Bellly. Esteban nodded. Rosa's face, as she looked at the tiro men, was white and worried. For a time the three of them sat silent; then the American said, slowly, "You'll be shot if you're caught." "Some one must run chances," Este ban averred. "We're fighting tyranny; all Cuba is ablaze. I must do my part." "But sooner or later you'll be dis covered--then what?" persisted O'Reil- ly* Esteban shrugged. "Who knows? There'll be time enough when--" "What of Rosa?" At this question the brother stirred uneasily and dropped his eyes. O'Reil ly laid a hand upon his jirm, "You have no right to jeopardize her safety. Without you, to, whom could she turn?" The girl flashed her admirer a grateful glance. "Senor, you for one would see that she--" "But--rm gglng away." O'Reilly felt rather than saw Rosa start, for his face was averted. "I came here to tell you both good-by. I may be gone for some time. I--I don't know when I can get back." t "I'm sorry," Esteban told him, with genuine regret. "We have grown very fond of you. But you will come back before long, eh? You're one of us. In the meantime I'll remember what you say, and at least I'll be careful." By no means wanting in tact, Esteban rose briskly and, after shaking hands with O'Reilly, left the two lovers to say fare well as best suited them. But for once O'Reilly's ready tongue was silent. The laughter was gone from his blue eyes when he turned to the girl at his side. ^ou say you are going away?" Rosa inquired, breathlessly. "But why?" *Tm going partly because of this war and partly because of--something else. I tried to t&ll you yesterday, but I couldn't. When the revolution start ed everybody thought It was merely a local uprising, and I wrote my com pany to that effect; but, bless you. It has spread like fire, and now the whole eastern end of the Island Is ablaze. Business has stopped, and my employ ers have ordered me home to find out what's happened to theft profits." "You said there was something else--" O'Reilly's hesitation became an em barrassed silence. Hb tried to laugh It off. "There Is; otherwise I'd stay right here and tell my penurious friends to whistle for their profits. It seems I'm cursed with a fatal beauty. You may have noticed It? No? Well, perhaps it's a magnificent business ability that I have. Anyhow, the president of my company has a notion that I'll make him a good son-in-law." "I-- Oh !" cried Rom. ' y And at her tone O'Reilly hurried on: "These rich men have the most ab surd ideas. I st$»pose I'll have to--" "Then you are In love, senor?" The young man nodded vigorously. "Indeed I am--with the sweetest girl in Cuba. That's the whole t^-otlble. That's why I'm hurrying home to re sign before I'm fired." Not daring to look too long or too deeply Into Rosa Varona's eyes until she had taken In the whole truth, he waited, staring at his feet "I'm sort of glad It has come to a show-down and I can speak out. I'm hoping she'll miss me." After * moment he ventured, "Will she--er-- will you. Rosa?" "I? Miss you?" Rosa lifted her brows in pretended amazement. "You are amusing, of course, but--I won't have much time to think about you, for I am so soon to be married." "Married? What? Nonsense!" "Indeed! Do you think I'm so ugly nobody would have me? The richest man in Matanzas has asked for my hand this very afternoon." "Who? Mario de Castanet*' "Yes." O'Reilly laughed with relief, and though Rosa tried to look offended, she was forced to smile. "He's fat, I know," she admitted, "and he makes funny noises when he breathes; but he $$£ J '» '/V "tiood!" Don Mario rose to leave, for the exertion of his ride had made tilm thirsty. "You may name your own reward for helping me and I will pay It the day Rosa marries me. Now kind ly advise her of my intentions and tell feer I shall come ta-see her «oon.*C> ° • ' *• • • • It was quite true that Johnnie O'Reilly--or "The O'Reilly," as his friends called him--had little in the way of worldly advantage to offer any girl, and It was precisely because Of this fact that he had accepted a posi tion here In Cuba, where, from the vesy1 nature of things, promotion was likely to be more rapid than in the New York office of his firm. A dancing eye speaks every lan guage ; a singing heart gathers its own audience. Before the young Irish- American had more than a bowing ac quaintance with the commonest Span ish verbs he had a calling acquaint ance with some of the most exclusive people of Matarifeas. He had adjusted Wmself serenely to his surroundings when Rosa Varona returned from achool, but with her coming, away went all his complacency. His content ment vanished; he experienced a total change in his opinions', his hopes, and Ills ambitions. He discovered, for example, that Ma tanzas was by no means the out-of-the- way place he had considered It; on the contrary, after meeting Rosa once by accident, twice by design, and three times by mutual arrangement. It had dawned upon him that this was (toe chief city of Cuba, if not, perhaps, the hub around which the whole world re- Tolved; certainly it was the most agreeable of all cities, since it con tained everything that was necessary lor man's happiness. Yet, despite the thrill of his awakening, O'Reilly was not at all pleased with himself, for, as It happened, there was another girl back home, and during his first year : loneliness he had written to her Wore freely and more frequently than Any man on such a salary as his had a right to do. Inasmuch as her father was O'Reil ly's "company" It may be seen that Hesa Varona's home-coming seriously •complicated matters, not only from a centimental, but from a business stand point. It was in a thoughtful mood that he rode up La Cumbre toward the Quint* de Esteban, late on the afternoon of Dan Mario's visit. Instead of going di rectly to the house, as the merchant Had done, O'Reilly turned off from the "You May Name Your Own Reward." road and, after tethering his horse in a cluster of guava bushes, proceeded on foot. He did not like Donna Isabel, nor did Donna Isabel like him. More over, he had a particular reason for avoiding her today. Just inside the Varona premises he paused an instant to admire the-out look. The quinta commanded an excel lent view of the Yumuri, on the one hand, and of the town and harbor on the other; no one ever climbed the hill from the city to gaze over into that hidden valley without feeling a pleas urable surprise at finding it still there. We are accustomed to think of perfect beauty as unsubstantial, evanescent; but thf Yumuri never changed, and in that lay its supremest wonder. Through what had once been well- tended grounds, O'Reilly made his way to a sort of sunken garden which, in spite of neglect, still remained the most charming, nook up^n the place; The hollow was effectually screened from view typ a growth of plantain, palm, orange, and tamarind trees; over the rocky walls ran a profusion of flowering plants and vines; in the cen ter of the open space was an old well, Its masonry curb all but crumbled away. When Rosa at last appeared, O'Reilly felt called upon to tell her, somewhat dizzily, that she was beyond doubt the sweetest flower on all the Quinta de Esteban, and since this somewhat hack neyed remark was the boldest speech he had ever made to her, she blushed prettily, flashing him a dimpled smile of mingled pleasure and surprise. "Oh, but I assure you I'm in no sweet temper," said sha. "Jttst now I'm tremendously angry." "Why?" ; "It's that stepmother--Isabel. If she dreamed that I see you as often as I do-- Well--" Rosa lifted her elo quent hands and eyes heavenward. "I suppose that's why I enjoy' doing It--I so dearly love to spite her." "I see!" O'Reilly puckered his brows and nodded. "But why. In that case, haven't you seen me oftener? We might just as well have made the good lady's life totally unbearable." "Silly! She knows nothing about it." With a flirtatious sigh Rosa add ed : "That's what robs the affair of its chief pleasure. Since it does not bother her in thte least, I think I will not al low you to come any more." After judicious consideration* O'Reil ly pretended to agree. "There's no fun In wreaking a hor rible revenge, when your enemy Isn't wise to It," he acknowledged. "Since It's your idea to irritate your stepmoth er, perhaps it would annoy her if I made love directly to her." Rosa tittered, and then Inquired, naively, "Can you make love, senor?" "Can I? It's the one ability an O'Reilly inherits. Listen to this now." Reaching forth, he took Rosa's fingers In his: "Walt!" he cried as she resist ed. "Pretend that you're Mrs. Varona, your own stepmother, and that this is her dimpled hand I'm holding." "Oh-h!" The girl allowed his grasp to remain. "But Isabel's hand isnt dimpled: It's thin and bony. Fve felt It on m.v ears often enough.?' "Don't Interrupt," he told her. "Isa bel, my little darling--1" " 'Isabel'!" exclaimed a voice, and the lovers started guiltily apart. They turned to find Esteban, Rosa's twin brother, staring at them oddly. "Isa bel ?" he repeated. "What's this?" "You Interrupted our theatricals. 1 was rehearsing an Impassioned pro posal to your beloved stepmother, O'Reilly explained, with a pretense of annoyance. "Yes, Senor O'Reilly believes he can infuriate Isabel by laying siege to her. He's a--foolish person--" Rosa's cheeks were faintly flushed and her color deepened at the amusement In Esteban's eyes. * "He makes fove wretchedly."' • - "What little I overheard wasn't bad, Esteban declared; then he took O'Reilly's hand. Esteban was a . handsome boy, straight, slim and manly, and his re semblance to Rosa was startling. With a look engaging ft its frank di rectness, he said: "Rosa told me about your meetings Iftre and I came to apologize for our stepmother's discour tesy. Tm sorry we can't invite you into our house, but--you understand? Rosa and I are not like her; we are quite liberal in our views; we are al most Americans, as you see. I dare say that's what makes Isabel hate Americans so bitterly." "Wouldn't it please her to know that I'm becoming Cubanlzed as fast as ever I can?" ventured the caller. "Oh, she hates Cubans, too!" laughed the brother. "She's Spanish, you know. Well, It's fortunate you didn't see her today. Br-r! What a temper! She'll walk In her sleep tonight. If ever." Rosa nodded soberly, and O'Reilly, suppressing some light reply that had sprung to his lips, inquired, curiously, "What do you mean by that?" Brother and sister joined in explain ing that Donna Isabel was given to pe culiar actions, especially after periods of excitement or anger, and that one of her eccentricities had taken the form of somnambulistic wanderings. "Oh, she's crazy enough," Esteban con cluded. "I believe it's her evil con science." O'Reilly scanned the speaker silent ly for a moment; then he said, with a gravity unusual In him, "I wonder If you know that you're suspected of-- working for the insurrecto cause." "Indeed? I didn't know." "Well, it's a fact" O'Reilly hear* Rosa gasp faintly. "Is it true?" he asked. "I am a Cuban." "Cuban? Your people were Span ish." "True. But no Spaniard ever raised a Spanish child in Cuba. We are Cu bans, Rosa and I. I go everywhere, and the Spanish officers talk plainly be fore me. Somebody must be the eyes - ' ' y \ . . ljarsh; he regarded the speaker with such a sinister, unblinking stare that she could scarcely fltafslfj ^^and so f--can no longer afford to ftftadn yon as admlnlstrador." ^ ^ "Times will Improve," h» said. "Impossible! I tell you Tm bank rupt" * "So? Then the remedy is Simple-- sell a part of your land.-1* > Although this suggestion came natu rally enough. Donna Isabel turned cold, and felt her smile stiffen Into a grlr mace. She wondered If Cueto could be feeling her out deliberately. "Sell the Varona lands?" she queried, after a momentary struggle with herself. "Es teban would rise from his grave. No. It was his. wish that the plantations go to his children intact." "And his wish Is sacred to. yj»p. eM" Cueto ftodded his approval, although his smile was disconcerting. "An ad mirable sentiment! It does you honor! But speaking on this subject, I am re minded of that dispute with Jose Oros over the boundary to La Joya. I have promised to show him the original deed to La Joya and to furnish him with the proofs about the boundary line. That would be better than a lawsuit, wouldn't It?" "Decidedly | Bui--4 will settle with him myself." Cueto lifted an admonitory hand, his face alight with the faintest glimmer of ironic mirth. "I couldn't trust you to the mercies of that rascal," he said piously. "No, I shall go on as I am, even at a sacrifice to myself. I love Don Esteban's children as my Tery own; and you, senora--" Isabel knew that she must win a complete victory at once or accept Ir retrievable defeat. "Never!" she Interrupted, with a tone of finality. "I can't accept your Is richer than Croesus, and I sdsrs rich men.' "I hate 'em!" announced O'Reilly. Then for a second time he took Rosa's dimpled hand, saying, earnestly: 'Tm sure you know now why I make love so badly, dear. It's my Irish con science. And you'U wait until I come back, won't you?' "Will you be gone--very long?" she asked. O'Reilly looked deeply' now Into the dark eyes turned to his, and found that at last there was no coquetry In them anywhere--nothing but a lonesome, hungry yearning--and with a glad, in coherent exclamation he held out his arms. Rosa Varona crept into them; then with a sigh s^e upturned her lips to his. TU wait-forever,** she said. CHAPTER W. Retribution, Although for a long time Donna Isa bel had been sure in her own mind thct Pancho Cueto, her admlnlstrador, was robbing her, she had never mustered courage to call him to a reckoning. Nevertheless, De Castano's blunt accu sation, coupled with her own urgent needs, served to fix her resolution, and on the day after the merchant's visit she sent for the overseer, who at the time was living on one of the plan tations. Cueto was plainly curious to legrn why he had been Sent for, but since he asked no questions, his employer was forced to open the subject her self. Through dry, white lips she be gan: 'My dear Pancho, times are hard. The plantations are failing, and so--" Pan cho Cueto's eyes were set close to hia f&QS MVMH m* SMl ' ' * : J ' . ' ' 1 i ' "Will You Be Gone--Very Long?" She Asked. sacrifice. I am not worthy. Kindly arrange to turn over your books of ac count at once." Then Pancho Cueto did an unex pected thing: he laughed shortly and shook his head. Donna Isabel was ready to faint and her voice quavered as she went on: "Understand me, we part the best of friends despite all I have heard against you. I do not believe these stories people tell, for you probably have en emies. Even if all they said were true, I should force myself to be leni ent because of your affection for my husband." The man rose, still smiling. "It is I who have been lenient," said he. "Eh? Speak plainly." "Gladly. I have long suspected that Don Esteban hid the deeds of his prop erty with the rest of his valuables, and now that you admit--" - Donna Isabel recoiled sharply. "Ad- »*nltl Are you mad? Deeds! What are you talking about?" Her eyes met his bravely enough, but she could feel her lips trembling loosely. Casting aside all pretense, the over seer exclaimed: "Por el amor de Dlos! An end to this! I know why you sent for me. -You think I have been rob bing you. Well, to be honest, so I have. Why should I toll as I do while you and those twins live here in lux ury and idleness, squandering inopey to which you have no right?" "Have I lost my reason?" gasped the widow.. "No right?" "At least no better right than L Don't you understand? You have no title to these plantations! They are mine, for I have paid the taxes out of my own pockets now these many years." "Taxes! What do you meanf* "I paid them. The receipts are in my name." "Heaven! Such perfidy! And you who knew him!" "The deeds have been lost for so long that the property would have re verted to the crown had It not been for me. You doubt that, eh? Well, ap peal to the court and you will find that it is true. Now, then, let us be frank. Inasmuch as we're both In much the same fix, hadn't we better continue our present arrangements?" He stared unbllnklngly at his listener. "Oh, I mean It! b It not better for you to be content with what my generosity prompt* i»e to give, rather than to risk ruin for both by grasping for too much?" "The outrage! I warrant you have grown rich through your stealing." Isabel's voice had gone fiat with con sternation. "Rich? Well, toot exactly, but com fortably well off." Cueto actually smiled again. "No doubt my frankness Is a shock to you. You are angry at my proposition, eh? Never mind. You will think better of It in time, it you are a sensible woman. But now, since, at last we enjoy such confidential re* lations, let us have no more of these' miserable suspicions of each other. Let us entirely forget this unpleasant misunderstanding and- be the s.-uiie good friends as Having salil this, Pfncihf^Cueto stood silent a moment In polite expectancy; then receiving no intelligible reply, he. btftped low and left the room. To the avaricious Donna Isabel Cue to's frank acknowledgment of theft' was maddening, and the realization that she was helpless, nay, dependent upon his charity for her living, fairly crucified her proud spirit. All day she brooded, and by the time evening came she had worked herself Into such a state of nerves that she could eat no dinner. Some time during the course of the evening a wild Idea came to Isabel. Knowing that the man ager would spend the night beneath her roof, she planned to kill him. At first it seemed a simple thing to do-*- merely a matter of a dagger or a pis tol, while he slept--but further thought revealed appalling risks and difficul ties, and she decided to wait. Poison was far safer. Constant brooding over the treasure had long since affected Donna Isabel's brain, and as a consequence she often dreamed about It. She dreamed about It again tonight, and, strangely enough, her dreams were pleasant. Sehastlan appeared, but for once he neither cursed nor threatened her; and Este- han, when he came, was again the lover who had courted her in Ha- bana. It was amazing, delightful. Esteban and she were walking through the grounds of the quinta and he was telling her about his' casks of Spanish sovereigns, about those boxes bound with Iron, about the gold and silver or naments of heavenly beauty and the pearls as large as plums. As he talked Isab«l felt herself grow hot and cold with anticipation; she experienced spasms of delight. Then of a sudden Isabel's whole dream-world dissolved. She awoke, or thought she did, at hearing her name shouted. But although she underwent the mental and the physical shock of being startled from slumber, although she felt the first swift fright of a per son aroused to strange surroundings, she knew on the Instant that she must still be asleep; for everything about her was dim and dark, the air was cold mid damp, wet grass rose to her knees. Before she could half realize her con dition she felt herself plunged Into space. She heard herself scream hoarsely, fearfully, and knew, too late, that she was Indeed awake. Then-- whirling chaos-- A sudden, blinding crash of lights and sounds-- Nothing moral • • • * • • Esteban Varona sat until a late hour that night over a letter which required the utmost care In Its composition. It was written upon the thinnest of pa per, and when it was finished the writer inclosed It In an envelope of the same material. Esteban put the letter In his pocket without addressing it. Letting himself out into the night, he took the path that led to the old sunken garden. He passed close by the well, and Its gaping mouth, only half protected by the broken coping, reminded him that he had promised Rosa to- cover it with planks. In Its present condition It was a menace to animals, if not to human beings who were unaware of its presence. Esteban's support of the In surrecto cause brings disaster to himself and Rosa. The next in stallment tells of their plight. (TO BE CONTINUED.) EXPDUNS poisoning by food 8eienee Has Discarded Theory, Long Held, That Ptomaines Are the Cause of Infection. Poisoning by food Is no longer ex* plained as "ptomaine poisoning," but In an address to the American Asso ciation for the Advancement of Science, Dr. E. O. Jordan showed that It Is due either to true bacterial toxins compara ble to those of diphtheria and tetanus bacilli, or to infection with specific in fection carried by the food article. The best known example of the toxln-form- Ing microbes is the bacillus botullnus, which has produced in the United States 22 recorded cases of poisoning, of which 17 were In California, while Great Britain has reported no case. This type of poisoning is rare, but in fection with food-borne disease bac teria seems to occur In a great number of cases. The bacteria are either pres ent in the food itself, or the food is contaminated" from htfmad sources. The chief food-borne Infections hith erto traced to human contamination are typhoid fever and the various paratyphoid infections; but to these must be added certain infections rare ly transmitted by any food except milk, such as diphtheria, scarlet fever, and streptococcus sore throat. The type of infection from food contam inated at Its source Is exemplified In the diseases of certain food animals. The chief Infections known to be due to food Infected at its source are those --mainly meat-borne--caused by the group of paratyphoid enteritldls bac teria, and those resulting from the use of Infected milk. The bacterial dis eases of plants do not Infect man. --1 CUTTING, SHOCKING, STACKING Mitt * - >'̂ THRASHING OAT CROP AT PROPER Tilft Chinese Queues Not Barred. Although the traffic In human hair has not been so brisk during the past few years as formerly on account of the veering of the fashions In hair- dressing toward the extremest simplic ity, there are millions of pounds of human hair exported from China. One of the peculiar facts in connection with the trade is that often after the Chinese send the hair to us we treat it and dye it and send It back to be made up for Special use. This is usual ly true in regard to the invisible hair nets which American and European women use to keep their own'locks In order on a windy day. The hair-net business has become of great importance to the province of Shantung, which now provides practic ally the entire supply for the marhet. Thus the hair net worn by the veriest stay-at-home in America h^s doubtless crossed the ocean three tim«s.-*-Pop®. lar Science Monthly. Proving It. "Hasn't that star singer a refy hlgb voice?" "Well, you go and .reserve seats tm Her concert und you'U find ouLr ' Harvesting A Crop of Oats. (Prepared by the United States Depart ment of Agriculture.) Oats usually are cut with a grain binder, though In the drier sections the header or the combined harvester and thrasher Is used occasionally. When the straw Is very short, due to drought or when the crop is badly lodged, cut ting with a mower may be necessary. The grain may then be raked and put into cocks, which should be built so as to shed irain. The proper time to cnt oats is when they are in the hard dough stage. Cut before this time the grain is not well billed, it shrivels in curing, and Is light In weight. If al lowed to become fully ripe before cut ting, a considerable part of the crop shatters out and Is lost in harvesting. The danger of damage from storms also is increased. When a large acre age Is to be harvested It Is advisable to begin cutting soon after the grain passes out of the milk stage, as other wise a considerable part of the crop is likely to become too ripe before It can be cut. Shocking. If the grain Is ripe or in the hard dough stage when cut, it may be placed at once in round shocks, which should be capped to prevent damage from rain and dew. The best quality of grain can be obtained under these conditions. If the grain is green or if the bundles contain many weeds, they should be al lowed to cure for a few hours before shocking, and then should be placed In long shocks, which inay or may not be capped. Long shocks allow the sun and air to penetrate much more readily than round ones and are to be prefer red when the grain is cut green or when conditions for curing are not favorable. If long shocks are capped properly, they protect the grain from weathering quite as well as round shocks. Grain that Is wet from dew or rain should be allowed to dry before It Is shocked. In sections where strong winds prevail during the harvest seas- on capping Is not advisable, as the caps blow off and the cap sheaves may be Injured by contact with the ground. A good round shock may be built by first setting up two bundles with the flat sides facing, the heads togeth er. and the butts a few inches apart. These bundles should be jammed down hard Into the stubble, so that they will stand firmly. Then set another bun dle at each end of this pair, so that there will be four In a row. Next set one in the middle of each side. This Jeaves at each of the four corners a space in which a bundle should be placed. There are now ten bundles In the shock, which is about the right aumber. If the grain Is very dry, * few more bundles may be set around the shock where they, seem to fit best. When the desired number of bundles Is set up, the shock should be capped. One or two bundles may be used In capping, depending on the length of the straw and the dryness of the grain. One cap allows circulation of air through the shock, while two caps af ford greater protection from rata. The cap bundle Is broken by supporting It with the butts on one knee and with one forearm and hand under it at the band, while the straw at each side is broken over just above the band with the other hand. The straw of about half a bundle Is broken to the right with the right hand: then the hands are reversed and the remainder of the bundle Is broken to the left with the left hand. Long shocks may be built by setting up two bundles with the flat sides fac ing, the tops together, and the butts several Inches apart to allow circula tion of air between them. The next pair of bundles should be set up along side the first In the same way, with the tops leaning slightly toward the first pair. The shock is completed by set ting another pair at each end and then placing single bundles wlth^the flat sides in the opening between each end pair. If desired, more than ten bun dles may be placed in long shocks. In capping long shocks the first bundle should be put on with the butts point ing in the direction from which the prevailing winds come and covering the heads of the bundles In that end of the shock as completely as possible. The second cap should then be laid on the other end of the shock In the same manner, with the heads overlapping those of the first. Two bundles will cover an ordinary long shock with con siderable overlap, but If the shock Is very large more than two caps may be aeeded. Stacking. Whether oats should be stacked or allowed to remain In the shock until they are thrashed depends very largely on local conditions. If they can be thrashed from the shock after they are cared but before they are injured by weather, the best course to pursue de pends on the relative cost of shock and stack thrashing. Investigations, show that stacking adds about one to one and one-half cents a bushel to the cost of producing oats. As thrashing outfits are often not available when they are w&nted and as consequently the grain is likely to be injured by weathering, stacking Is generally advisable, partic ularly In the humid section. ^ When grain is stacked, it is impor tant that the stacks be well built* If the stacks are put up sr> carelessly that they will not shed vater. the grain m«.*» m - shocks. The bottoms of the stack* should be raised from the ground slight ly by laying down old rails or other ma terial to keep the straw from coming- in contact with the earth, thus prevent-' ing the absorption of moisture from be low. The shape of the stack is less iah» portant than the manner in which the' bundles are laid, though round stacks' probably shed water better than thai long ricks sometimes built. Stacking should be begun as soon Mr the grain Is well cured In the shock,. In about ten days to two weeks after' cutting. Round stacks are usually* about ten feet in diameter at the base.! The usual plan Is to build four stacks* in a setting. In pairs six feet apart, j First build a- large, round shock about eight, feet In diameter. Then place two layers of bundles, one direct ly on top of the other, with the heads resting against the shock and the butts forming the ten-foot base of the stack. Make the next row with the butts just covering the bands of the other row. In the same manner lay rows of bundles, like shingles, until the center la Is reached, overlapping the rows a lit tle more toward the center of tfcte stack. When the first layer Is com pleted, begin again at the outside and' build toward the center. Shocked bundles have slanting butts,! because they are set In the shock with; a slight slant Instead of exactly up-. right. In building the outside rows; around the stack lay the long edge of; the butt on top and projecting beyond; the lower bundle. In this way the dt-| ameter of the stack Is gradually In creased. forming the bulge. After aj height of seven or eight feet is reached j lay the outer bundles with the long; edge of the butt beneath and just cot-! erlng the Inner edge of the layer jdst> completed. In this way the diameter: Is gradually decreased and the stack Is- tapered slowly to h. point. Always keep the middle of the stack! . high and firmly tramped down. Doj not tramp the outer layer at alL Keep ing the middle high gives all the; bundles a slant toward the outside and! helps to shed rain. At the peak, where! the bundles overlap, fasten a capsheaf' securely by setting 't on a sharpeneds stake driven into the top of the stack.! A well-built stack ten feet in diameCilf t should be 20 to 25 feet high.. Thrashing. As previously stated, It Is cheaper t»| thresh directly from the shock if tfea work can be done while the grain (s> still In good condition. Thrashing froiai the shock Is often subject to delay' from rains, however, as the work mustj wait until the bundles are dry. This! may mean the loss of one or even two or three days after heavy rains. On; the other hand. If the grain Is stacked.' thrashing may be resumed almost soon as the rain stops. Grain may be. thrashed from the shock either before* or after It has gone through the sweat. If it Is thrashed before It goes througki the sweat, It will sweat in the bin, but If It is dry-thrashed It will not be ; Injured. If the grain Is damp when S thrashed, it sweats too much and likely to become hot and be damaged; by bin burning. Stacked grain should1 be allowed to go through the sweat «|K i f . if io thrashed. « -- A - • The separator should be well cleaned* before thrashing Is begun, particularly* * if it has come from a neighbor's farm^ where a different. variety of oats IS| grown or If some other grain has Just^ been thraslied. Cleaning the separatoW -? 4 also prevents the bringing of weed{ v j seeds from other farms. The operation! !•; of the machine should be watched^ - carefuiiy xu See iiiui nil iiie jimiu i*l removed from the straw. It Is muefct easier to do a clean job of thrashfcagf when the grain Is dry than when it Is* moist y The straw should be run into th#{ mow. where Is can be kept under? cover or, If it must be stacked outside^ the stack should be built carefully sol that it will shed water. Oat straw Uj a valuable roughage for live stock. b*f ing much better for this purpose thaa| the straw of wheat or barley. It Is al«M of value for bedding and the making) of manure, if It Is not all needed for, feed. . f 8 WM ^ 3 mvii i ^ ̂ 'i FEED fflE CALF FREQUENTLY Yeung Animal tlwuld Be Qlwen to Three Pounds Each Titan Depending on 8izs. If the calf were allowed to run witkl the cow It would take its milk In small amounts several times a day, so wheat it is raised by hand the young cafeF should be fed not less tjiau three time* dally, receiving two to three pounds at a feed depending on the size of the calf. For a small Jersey calf sis pounds of allk dally Is sufficient at first, while a large Holstein calf ragplEa ten pounds. •" Qrow Mora raia AU of us should grow more peas for drying In the green state. They am highly satisfactory and there Is no ex pense for JaTO or cans and no ones** tainty of their keeping. -,Ykh^, Keeping Milk and Cream. Milk and cream can be kept la condition and will remain sweet tor ^ some time, providing they are kept '»M better be to stand tQ rtMn wml »t « Imw tBimwrMMIML jkr •