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THE COLBORNE EXPRESS, COLBORNE, ONT. JAN. 19, 1956 MFABM FRONT |ok^12iissell The following article, taken from "American Farm Youth" tells how one poultryman gets premium prices foi his eggs; audi J thought it interesting enough to pass on to you. Incidentally, where il speaks of seliling eggs at "auctions" it just means "wholesalers.' Through careful control of his j'ee: and hens to produce large, high quality eggs the year around, one New Jersey egg raiser is selling 30,000 dozen eggs a year at a 50 per cent increase in profits on a retail Abe Berkowitz of oertville, N. J., follows a iy controlled, all - mash ng program and a plan of Ul management of hen ro-n. In addition to supplying retail route in New York , Berkowitz' 5,000 hens pro-45,000 dozen eggs a year he auction at Flemington, Lair, closi feed: N.J. Berkowitz reports that sales on his retail route in upper Manhattan and the Bronx, worked two days a week, average 580 dozen eggs a week; 290 dozer, a day; 29 dozen an hour; a dozen every two minutes. Such a schedule gives tittle time for sales talk or displaying the.quality of the product. The customers, who have been sold on the Berkowitz egg by the recommendations of friends who use ihem, will stay sold only if the eggs hold the same- top qurh'tv week in and week out. To the Berkowitz customer the perfect egg is white, light-yolked and of large, extra or jumbo size. For this egg, the Berkowitz customer will pay from 20 to 30 cents per dozen more than auction prices. Against a typical' run of auction prices per dozen -- mediums, 38^; large, 40c; extra large. 42V2<t; and jumbos, 49tf -- equivalent 'route prices per dozen are: 58?, 60<\ 67V44, and 79tf respectively. The minimum premium of 200 per dozen on mediums and large is 50 per cent better than auction prices. The 25<l and 304 premiums on extra large and jumbo are 60 per cent better. The quality egg that attracts the premium customer does not occur by accident. Berkowitz says. Producing it requires careful feed control and a close schedule of flock rotation. Berkowitz feeds his white leghorns on an all-mash program. He uses no scratch. The mash formula is delivered in bulk by 12-ton trucks that ) the feed into Berkowitz's »sh formula is so bal- MERRY McNAGERIt anced that the vitamin A content is high enough to counteract the xanthophyll in the corn the mash contains. This is essential to the productions of light-yolked eggs. Berkowitz also believes that full A potency reduces the number of eggs with blood spots Both the A and D vitamins in the mash must be delivered to the birds at full potency to maintained their health and appetite. Without these two essential nutrients egg size, quality and production become irregular, and Berkowitz cannot obtain the premium eggs he needs for his route. The bulk delivery-bin storage method cf feed-handilng relieves Berkowitz of most ot the labor he would have if he used bagged feed and leaves him free to manage his flock and his But bin storage of the mash creates heat conditions that are detrimental to most vitamin supplements. Sun on bins generates temperatures as high as 125 degrees Fahrenheit and destroys the potency of vitamin A and D unless proper forms of these vitamins are present. To assure Berkowitz and Other customers who store feed in bins that their mash will retain full potencies of vitamins A and D, the cooperative fortifies its mash with the Micra-tized vitamins A and D. The cooperative had a commercial laboratory test Micra-tized A and D against a variety of other vitamin supplements and found the Micratized vitamins were the only ones that would retain full potency in the severe heat conditions of bin storage. Berkowitz says his egg quality confirms the laboratory results on the retention of vitamin potency in the mash the cooperative" supplies. He has less than one per cent of dark-yolked eggs and his incidence of blood spots is similarly low. With good feed to produce high quality eggs Berkowitz couples careful hen rotation to achieve steady production of large eggs. Unlike egg raisers who sell only to auctions, Berkowitz cannot replace his flock entirely every fifteen months. The wholesalers can take all their hens at the same time through the small egg period when their laying careers begin. With no steady requirement for large eggs, the small egg period amounts to a production lull for the wholesaler and a time of lower income, but it does not endanger his market. For Berkowitz a period of small eggs would be a period when he could not deliver the premium eggs his route requires. To avoid such lulls, he replaces his flock gradually. Each year he raises 4,000 new pullets. With these pullets he replaces 3,000 of his 5,000 hens at the end of their fifteen month laying career. Of the remaining 2.000, he replaces 1,000 at the end of eighteen months of laying and holds the final 1.000 over for a second year. The older birds give him large eggs while the young birds are de- CROSSWORD PUZZLE ' f 3 5 - 4 7 1 u 14 " 1 >s y- ; 24 16 SI 44 ** a 1° * 41 *i S° *7 a M Answer elsewhere on this page. BOTTLED UP - These jug-tooting high school lads have formed a new kind of band. Bottles are their instruments. Their music is called "watersport," because various notes are sounded by filling bottles to different levels with water. Trouble is, speculates two-gallon bass Grant Miller, center, that when the music gets real hot the water is liable to steam off and the band get out ot tune. Others in the "Blowhearrs" band are, from left: Bob shaw, Swen Swensen, Dave Wright, John Hart and Brent Brock-bank. Oh, yes, they don't really play in a jug. This is just a trick photo. Her Nightmare Unearthed Murder Mrs. Gordon Tombe came down pale and haggard to the parsonage breakfast table at Little Tew, in the rural fastness of Oxfordshire. "I dreamed of Eric," she said. "It was terrible. I dreamed he was lying dead at the bottom of a well, half-forced through a kind of hole. And yet there was RIGGED IN ICE - With the New York City skyline in the background, a crewman of the fishing boat "Florence B" chops off heavy ice formed on the boat's rigging after returning from a fishing trip. The city was suffering from a record cold wave. a stone slab above him. It was like -- it was like murder!" Her husband, the Rev. G. C. Tombe, tried to reassure her. "Your nerves are on edge," he said. "'Our boy will surely come It was then autumn. Ever since April of that year--1922-- Eric Tombe, a handsome ex-Army officer, had been missing without trace. His parents went to his London flat and found their letters still cluttering the hall mat, unopened. No doubt it was natural in the circumstances that an anxious mother should dream of accidental death and even mur- But she hf.d lhe hideous nightmare again . . . and yet again. The stone slab in her dream seemed to be in the grounds of ,a farm, sealing a well, where far beneath the body of her son lay still and quiet. With gruesome persistence, the vision haunted her sleep through weeks and months. Finally, the nightly torment grew so extreme that the parson resigned his living and went to London determined to search for his son by every means in his power. He made inquiries in the shops and restaurants neighbouring his son's flat. He pestered Scotland Yard, and perhaps the C.I.D. detectives found the old clergyman somewhat of a For the police had, of^fcourse, already made a routine investigation and discovered that cheques duly signed "Eric Tombe" had been drawn from Paris during the summer on the young man's bank account. Moreover, the sum of $3,700 had been The old parson hurried to the farm. Locals of whom he asked the way gave him some queer looks. He began to understand the reason when he found himself gazing down a grass-grown, briar-tangled drive. At the far end the farmhouse was a ruined shell, gutted by fire. But local gossip at last suggested a possible motive for Eric Tcmbe's disappearance. Tombe and Dyer in partnership had run The Welcomes as a racing table. Tombe had supplied the cash and Dyer the experience. The latter, a big betting man, had once wagered every penny he had on a rank outsider in the Lincolnshire apd had pocketed $45,000 when the horse ramped home at 33-1. The money had been swiftly dissipated in London's nightclubs "and, subsequently, the racing stables had enjoyed no great success. There had been a fierce outbreak of fire and trouble over the resulting insurance claim. Indeed, the insurance inspector asked so many awkward questions about the petrol tins he found in the gutted building that Dyer did not press his claim. Instead, Dyer and Tombe both disappeared. Not far from the stables, however, was living a woman who regarded herself as Dyer's widow. Dyer, it seemed, had perished in a road crash in France and she had received a final cheque for £60 from Tombe winding up poor Dyer's The leter, signed "Eric Gordon Tombe," and dated July 1922, looked conspicuously normal. But the Rev. Tombe felt instinctively that it had been forged. transferred to a Paris branch and was practically spent. It seemed obvious that Eric had cut loose and was buying himself quite a time. Yet his mother's weird recurrent dream still persisted. Then Mr. Tombe at last struck a lead. A barber remembered not only Eric but also a friend whom he had introduced, a man named Ernest Dyer, living at a farmhouse oddly called The Welcomes, at Kenley, Surrey. His hunch was that his son was dead and that Dyer still lived. Once more Mrs. Tombe endured her terrible dream. The fact that The Welcomes had been a farm could no longer be overlooked. The old parson went to Scotland Yard, repeating the details of the dream, and begged them to scour the grounds. More to humour him than anything else a few policemen were deputed to search the place -- with startling results. Every yard was overgrown and dilapidated. Yet in a corner of the paddlock the police found two stone slabs covering disused cesspools. Both were pumped dry -- and found empty. The police shrugged their shoulders. Many a dream hunch has proved fruitless before now. But suddenly a young constable gave a cry. Almost hidden beneath grass tufts was a third slab. Under it was a cesspool that had been filled with stones and rubble. The searchers dug with rising excitement. It was hours before sufficient rubble had been removed to reveal a manhole cover. Beneath it was another hole similar to that described by Mrs. Tombe from her dream. And here, hunched up, head downwards, were the remains of the body of a man. Hideous gunshot wounds at the back of the head, injuries that could not have been self-inflicted, disclosed proof of foul play. Though little remained of the thing that had been Eric Tombe, a watch-key in one of the tattered pockets, an inscribed wrist-watch and gold fillings in the upper jaw proved identity. The discovery was made on September 12th, 1923, almost a year after Mrs. Tombe first had her dream. And evidence at the inquest set the date of the crime as April, 1922, six months before the onset of the recurring nightmare. The verdict was one of murder against Ernest Dyer. His wife had seen him one night the previous summer hurling large stones down the death pit. But where was Dyer now? Oddly enough, he, too, was dead. Unerring justice, though thoroughly blindfold, had caught up with him long months before. There's a flashback in fact to an occasion in November, 1922, when the Scarborough police successfully got on the track of a confidence trickster named James FitzSimmoris, who was wanted for questioning after palming off a number of dishonoured cheques on northern business men. When asked to step round to the police station, FitzSirrynons played for time. "Do you mind if I get a few things from my room?" he asked the inspector. They mounted the stairs together, but suddenly the con man brought a revolver from his pocket. Before it could be prevented he shot himself and rolled over dead. Dyer -- alias FitzSimmons-- must have thought that the body of Eric Tombe had already been discovered. In'his luggage was Tombe's passport, with Tombe's signature and Dyer's picture. Here, too, were blank cheques and practice sheets of forged signatures. It was Dyer who diverted Eric Tombe's funds to Paris. Dyer killed himself on November 16th, 1922. Though the date was never definitely pinned down, this could have been the eve of Mrs. Tombe's first nightmare. Did the murderer signal his ghastly secret from the grave? SCHOOL mm R. Barclay Warren, B.A.. BJ». Memory Selection: Whosoever exalteth himself shall ba abased; and he that humble* himself shall be exalted. Luka 14:11. How very practical -is the teaching of Jesus for the everyday relationships of life, in social and business as well as ia spiritual matters! He was entertained often in humble homes and in the homes of important people. What a delightful guest he must have been--gracious, courteous, sincere and friendly! He must have been politeness itself, but unaffected and genu- In high social circles it is very important that the people at tha banquet _ be seated according to rank. It "is embarrassing for the person who has pushed himself forward to be asked to take a lower seat. The person who is called to a higher seat is in a more favorable light. Sometimes the humbleness of the act of taking the lowly seat is more apparent than real. Some individuals take pleasure in being spotted and called to the platform in the presence of all when they knew they were designated to sit on the platform Ministers are frequently guilty. God knows the heart. None of us would think of refusing an invitation from the Queen. Yet many neglect the invitation of the King of kings to the great gospel banquet provided at so great a cost. Most people do it quite politely. But whether they say, "I pray thee have me excused," or "I cannot come," the end result is the same. They miss the banquet. The excuses in the parable are trivial. No wise man would buy land without seeing it or oxen without testing them. No groom would want to miss the opportunity of showing off his bride. They were only excuses. They remind one of the man who went to his neighbour to borrow a rope. The neighbour replied, "I cannot lend it to you, for I am using it myself to tie up a heap of sand." "But," said the first, "you cannot tie up sand with a rope." "Oh, yes," returned tha other, "you can do almost anything with a rope when you d« not wish to lend it." No excuse will stand at th*» judgment. REMINDER Little David was saying his prayers one night. After the usual "God bless Mummy and Daddy," he came up with: "And please make Tommy stop throwing things at me. By the way, I've mentioned this before!" Upside to Kreven- Peeking THAT COLLEGIATE LOOK - This 1911 model-T Ford is tha-proud possession of Bill Robeson, right. The 12th auto Robeson has restored in two years, this one has gleaming bnass radiator and headlights, a high body and straps to hold down the top„ The student finished it with 14 coats of hand-rubbed lacquer. His only casualty with car, which averages 28 to 30 miles par gallon of either gasoline of kerosene, was a broken wrist whi!# cranking the car to start It.