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V' . ft ' 'M'" jK j fef "" SsSrf ,1":' ' :<y • •• mm: i* '••v* «V *•" !»• . ^aSBS^SS'Sw v* rJ? .*• •. *' <- * ,» « *v" -** ' V i**.*"*" V * "rj*s " -t> * >"-%-*>*• -»* •*&+• vtt t « „ K*t >..*>*», -h>4y\ W « e % . , <y r •1 :̂ v£?v*x-.rfvt:.v vtf̂ >/:-r̂ .x- -•*:*•:: K--Wi % a :mm # ' • . COST OF HORSE LABOR THE LARGEST SINGLE ITEM OF EXPENSE ON A FARM 'B^OMK IpNDON @r tmt call of mi mtf 'mm/je /wtG" 'Ws&r#f £££&;*ere. (Copyright, 1910, by tht N«w Tork Hmld Compttr.) <Copyrtcht. I#l6, by the MacMUlan Company. 8VNOP3IS. El am Hftrniah. known all throug-h Alas­ ka a? "Burning Daylight," celebrates his 80th birthday with a crowd of miners at the ririle City Tlvoli. The dance leads to heavy gambling, in which over $100,000 Is staked. Harnish loses his money and his mine but wins the mail contract. He •tarts on his mall trip with dogs and Bled^-\ telling his friends that he will be In tlie big Yukon &o!d strike at the start. Burning Daylight makes a sensationally rapid run across country with the mail, appear* a; the Tivoli and Is now ready to join his friends In a dash to the new (fold fields. Deciding that gold will be found in the up-river district Harnish buys two tons of floyr, which he declares will t>e worth Its weight in gold, but when he arrives with his Hour he finds the big flat desolate. comrade discov­ ers gold and Daylight reaps a rich har­ vest. He goes to Dawson, becomes the most prominent figure In the Klondike and defeats a combination of capitalists in a vast mining deal. He returns to civilisation, and. amid the bewildering complications of high finance. Daylight flad!= that he has be»n led to invest his eleven millions in 'a manipulated scheme. He goes to New Tork, and confronting his disloyal partners with a revolver, he threatens to kill them if his money Is not returned They are cowed, return their stealings and Harnish goes back to San Francisco where he meets his fate In r>ede Mason, a pretty stenographer. He makes large Investments and gets Into the political ring. For a rest he goes to the country. CHAPTER XI.--Continued. Daylight could not persuade him­ self to keep to the traveled roads that day, and another cut across coun­ try to Glen Ellen brought him upon • canyon that so blocked bis way that he was glad to follow a friendly cow- path. This led him to a small frame cabin. The doors and windows were open, and a cat was nursing a litter of kittens In the doorway, but no one seemed at home He descended the trail that evidently crossed the can­ yon. Part way down, he met an old man coming up through the sunset. In his hand he carried a pail of foamy milk. He wore no hat, and in his faoe, framed with snow-white hair and beard, was the ruddy glow and con­ tent of the passing summer day. Daylight thought that he had never seen so contented ldoking a being. "How old are you, daddy?" he quer­ ied "Eighty-four," was the reply. "Yes. •irree, eighty-four, and spryer than most." "'You mast a' taken good care of yourself," Daylight suggested. "I don't know about that. I ain't loafed none. I walked across the plains with an ox team and fit Injuns 1n '61. and I was a family man with •even youngsters. I reckon I was as old then as you are now, or pretty nigh on to it." "Don't you find it lonely here?" The old man shifted the pall of milk and reflected. "That all depends," he said oracul­ arly. "1 ain't never been lonely ex­ cept when the old wife died. Some fellers are lonely in a crowd, and I'm one of them. That's the only time I'm lonely, is when I go to 'Frisco. But I don't go no more, thank you 'most to death. This is good enough for me. I've been right here in this valley since '54--one of the first set­ tlers after the Spaniards." The old man chuckled, and Day­ light rode on, singularly at peace with himself and all the world. It seemed that the old contentment of trail and camp he had known on the Yukon had come back'to him. He could not shake from his eyes the picture of the old pioneer coming up the trail through the sunset light. He was cer­ tainly gO»u£ Suuic fuF eigutjr-fuiil . The thought of following his example en­ tered Daylight's mind, but the big same of San Francisco vetoed the Idea. nounced. "You're Elam Harnish-- Burning Daylight, the papers call you. Am I right?" Daylight nodded. "Well, I'm glad I wrote that letter this afternoon," the little man went on, "or else I'd have missed seeing you. I've seen your photo In the pa­ pers many a time, and I've a good memory for faces. I recognized you at once. My name's Ferguson." "Do you live hereabouts?" Daylight repeated his query. * "Oh, yes. I've got a little shack back here in the bush a hundred yards and a pretty spring, and a few fruit trees and berry bushes. Come in and take a look. And that spring is a dandy. You never tasted water like it. Come In and try it" Walking and leading his horse, Day­ light followed the quick-stepping, eager little man through the green tunnel and emerged abruptly upon the clearing, if clearing It might be called, where wild nature and man's earth- scratching were Inextricably blended. It was a tiny nook in the hills, pro­ tected by the steep walls of a canyon mouth. Here were several large oaks, evidencing a richer soil. The erosion of ages from the hillside had slowly formed this deposit of fat earth. Un­ der the oaks, almost buried in them, stood a rough, unpainted cabin, the wide Veranda of which, with chairs and hammocks, advertised an out-of- doors bedchamber. Daylight's keen eyes took in everything. The clearing was Irregular, following the patches of the best soil, and every fruit tree and berry bush, and even each vege­ table plant, had the water personally conducted to it. The tiny irrigation channels were everywhere, and along some of them the water was running. Ferguson frankly showed his pleas­ ure at the questions. "First of all," he began, "the doctors wound up by losing all hope for me. Gave me a few months at best, and that, after a course in sanitariums and a trip to Europe and another to Hawaii. They tried electricity and forced feeding and fasting. I was a graduate of about everything In the curriculum. They kept me poor with their bills, while I went frbm bad to worse. The trouble with me was two­ fold; first I was a born weakling; and next, I was 4iving unnaturally--too much work, and responsibility and strain. 1 was managing editor of the Times-Tribune in San Francisco, and I wasn't strong enough for the strain. Of course my body went back on me, and my mind, too, for that mat- atr. It had to be bolstered up with whisky, which wasn't good for it any more than was the IWing in clubs and hotels good for my stomach and tte rest of me. So I quit, quit every­ thing, absolutely, and came to live in the Valley of the Moon--that's the Indian name, you know, for Sonoma Valley. I lived in the lean-to the first year; then I built the cabin and sent for my books. I never knew what hap­ piness was before, nor health. Look at me now and dare to tell me that 1 look forty-seven." "I wouldn't give a day over forty," Daylight confessed. "Yet the day I came here I looked nearer sixty, and tl4at was fifteen years ago." They talked along, and Daylight looked at the world from new angles. Here was a man, neither bitter nor cynical, who laughed at the city-dwell­ ers and called them lunatics; a man who did not care for money, and In whom the lust for power bad long ^rthce died. f It was not-untll ten o'clock that Daylight parted from Ferguson. As he rode along through the starlight, the idea came to him of buying the ranch on the other side of the valley. There was no thought in his mind of ever menace to the more orthodox finan­ cial gamblers, he was nevertheless so grave i menace that they were glad enough to let him alone. He bad al­ ready taught them the excellence of letting a sleeping dog lie. Dede Mason was still in the office. He had made no more overtures, dis­ cussed no more books. He bad no active* interest in her, and she was to him a pleasant memory of what had never happened, a joy, which, by his essential nature, he was barred from A CHAPTER XII. Instead of returning to the city on .onday. Daylight rented the butcher's horse for another day and crossed the bed of the valley to its eastern hills. As on the previous day, Just for the Joy of it, he followed cattle-trails at haphazard and worked his way up to­ ward the summits. Coming out upon a wagon road that led upward, he fol­ lowed it for several miles, emerging In a small, mountain-encircled valley, where half a dozen poor ranchers farmed the wine-grapes on the steep slopes. Beyond, the road pitched up­ ward. Dense chaparral covered the exposed hillsides, but in the creases of the canyons huge spruce trees grew, and wild oats and flowers. Late in the afternoon he broke through, and followed a well-defined trail duwn a dry canyon. The dry canyon gave place to one with a slen­ der ribbon of running water. The tiall ran into a wood-road, and the wood mart emerged across a small flat upon a slightly traveled country road. There were no far:\iR in this immedi­ ate section, and no houses. The soil was meager, the bed-rock either close to the surface or constituting the sur­ face itself. Mauzanita and bcrub-oak, however, flourished and walled the road on either side with a jungle growth. And out a runway through this growth a man suddenly scuttled In a way that reminded Daylight of a rabbit. He was a little man, in patched | overalls; bareheaded, with a cotton shirt open at the throat and down the chest. The Bun was ruddy brown in his face, and by It his sandy hair was bleached on the ends to peroxide blo&de. He signed to Daylight to bait, and held up a letter. "If you're going to town, I'd be Obliged if you mail thi&." he said. "I sure will." Daylight put It into bis coat pocket. "Do you live here­ abouts, stranger?" But the little man did not answer. He was gazing at Daylight in a sur­ prised and steadfast fashion. "I kjpow you," the little man a» \ What Do You Think of It, Eh?" Ferguson looked eagerly into his visitor's face for signs of approbation. "What do you thihk of it, eh?" "Hand-reared and manicured, every blessed tree," Daylight laughed, but the joy and satisfaction that shone In his eyes contented the little man. "Why, d'ye know, I know every one of those trees as If they were sons of mine I planted them, nursed them, fed them, and brought them up. Come on and peep at the spring." "It' s sure a hummer," was Daylight 's verdict, after due inspection and sam­ pling, as they turned back for the house. The Interior was a surprise. The cooking being done in the small, lean- to kitchen, the whole cabin formed a large living-room A great table in the middle was comfortably li t tered with books and magazines. All the available wall space, from wall to ceil­ ing, was occupied by filled book­ shelves It seemed to Daylight that he had never seen so many books as­ sembled In one place. Skins of wild­ cat. 'coon and deer lay about on the pine board floor. Daylight found himself charmed and made curious by the little man. Why was he hiding away here In the chap­ arral, he and his books? So it was, when between them they had washed and wiped the disheB and put them away, and had settled down to a com­ fortable smoke, that Daylight put his question. "Look here, Ferguson. since we got together, I've been casting about to find out wbat's wrong with you, to locate a screw loose some­ where, but I'll bo ds&sed H su0- ceeded. What are you doing here, anyway?' intending to live on it His game was In San Francisco. But he liked the ranch, and as soon as he got back to the offlce he would open up negotia­ tions with Hillard. The time passed, and he played on at the game. San Francisco's atti­ tude toward Daylight had undergone a change. While he, with his slashing buccaneer methods, was a distinct m - - -- mar One of the Imported Pereheron Mares Owned by the University. Here Was a Man Who Laughed at City Dwellers and Called Them Lunatics. ever knowing. Yet, while his interest had gone to sleep and his energy was consumed in the endless battles he waged, he knew every trick of the light on her hair, every quick definite mannerism of movement, every line of her figure as expounded by her tailor- made gowns. Several times, six months or so apart, he had increased her salary, dntil now she was receiv­ ing ninety dollars a month. Beyond this he dared not go, though he got around it by making the work easier. This he had accomplished after her return from a vacation, by retaining her substitute as an assistant Also, he had changed his office suite, so that now the two girls had a room by them­ selves. The more he saw of her, and the more he thought he knew of her, the more unapproachable did sh* seem to him. But since he had no in­ tention of approaching her, this was anything but an unsatisfactory faot He was glad he had her in his offlce, and hoped she'd stay, and that was about all. Daylight did not improve with the passing years. The life was not good for him. He was growing stout and soft, and there was unwonted flabbi- ness in his muscles. The more he drank cocktails, the more he was com­ pelled to drink in order to get the de­ sired result, the Inhibitions that eased him down from the concert pitch of his operations. And with this went wine, too, at meals, and the long drinks after dinner of Scotch and soda at the Riverside. Then, loo, his body suffered from lack of exercise; and, from lack of decent human associa­ tions, his moral fibers were weaken­ ing. Never a man to hide anything, some of his escapades became public, such as speeding, and of joy-rides In his big red motor car down to San Jose with companions distinctly sporty --incidents that were narrated as good fun and comically in the news­ papers. (TO BE CONTINUED.) Destruction of Rats. An East Africa publication contains a description of a method of destroy­ ing rats, followed in Java, in which carbon bisulphate in employed. In carrying out the method a small quan­ tity, usually about half a teaspoonful of the ^arbon bisulphide Is poured In­ to the rat hole and after waiting • few moments to let tbe liquid evap­ orate, the mixture of ulr and vapor is lighted, a small explosion resulting and filling tbe hole with poisonous gas, killing the rats Instantly. 8uch a pro- cess practiced openly might be objec­ tionable under some circumstances be­ cause of danger from fire resulting from the explosion and a field for in­ vention appears to offer Itself to pn^r> vide some form of fire-proof gun or explosion chamber suitably formed to be Inserted in the mouth of the rat hole and adapted to enclose the ex­ plosion and discharge tbe resulting noxious gas Into the bole.--Scientific American. What Liszt Did for Music His Compelling Personality. Genius and Inspiration Made Possible the Later Wagner. But he Introduced into the musty academic atmosphere of musical Eu­ rope a strong, fresh breeze from th6 Hungarian puzta; this wandering piano player of Hungarian-Austrian blood, a genuine cosmopolite, taught music a new charm, the charm of the unexpected, of the improvised. The freedom of Beethoven In his later works and of Chopin In all his music became the principal factor in the style of Liszt. Music must have the shape of an Improvislon. In the Hun­ garian rhapsodies, the majority of which begin in a mosque and always end In a tavern, are the extremes of system. His orchestral and vocal works, the two symphonies, the masses and oratorios and symphonic poems are full of dignity, poetic feel Ing. religious spirit, and a largeness or accent and manner. Yet the gypsy glance and gypsy voice lurk behind many a pious or pompous bar. Apart from his Invention of a new form--or rather the condensation and revise! of an old one--the symphonic poem- Liszt's greatest contribution to are i j the wild, truant, rhapsodic externport element he infused into modern mu sic; nature In her most reckless, un> trammeled moods he interpreted wltt fidelity. But the drummers In the line of moral gasoline who controlled crttl- clsm In Germany refused to see Liszt except as an ex-plano virtuoso with the morals of a fly and a perverter of art. Even the piquant triangle in his piano concerto was suspected as poe- sibly suggesting the usual situation oi P'fench comedy. The Liszt-Wagner question no long- presents any difficulties to tbe fair- minded. It is a simple one, lor men still living know that Wagner, to reach bis musical apogee, to reach his public, had to lean heavily on the musical genius and individual Inspira­ tion of Liszt, The later Wagner would not have existed--as we now know Uim--without first traversing thereat* •ien of Liszt. This is not a theory but fact.--From Fraas Ltsst--The Real and Legendary." by James Hunefceff in Scribner'a, By W. F. HAND8CHIN, University of Illinois. That the cost of horse labor la the largest single item of farm expense does not seem at first thought to be true, but a little careful study of the factors involved show this item to be surprisingly large, and of far greater importance than is generally recog­ nized. While a large percentage of farmers, without giving the matter any definite consideration, would say that they can keep a work horse for $60 or $80 a year, it is safe to say that on nearly all of our corn-belt farms this estimate should be increased by from SO to 78 per cent. Just what the value of the mature farm work horse is In this section cannot be accurately learned, but on most farms an estimate of $150 seems reasonable. On this basis we would have the following fixed charges: In­ terest at 6 per cent, $9; figuring the average working lfte of a farm horse at ten yekrs, making his work to about thirteen years of age, a charge of^lO per cent, or $15 annually, must be made for depreciation. Here we have already $24 of cost which is In the main overlooked. There are also sev­ eral other costs not usually considered that must be included. Shelter must cost from $2.50 to $5 annually, etyen when of. an Inexpensive nature. Lahor spent in feeding, grooming and the general care of the horse, even when figured at only 20 minutes per horse dally, amounts to $18.25 on the basip of 15 cents per hour. Shoeing, al­ though usually a small item of ex­ pense on most farms, since many horses are not shod at all, must cost on the average of from $2 to $3 a year. Harness wear, repairs, oiling, etc., will also cost from $2 to $3 annually. Then feed, tbe largest single Item (and the only one usually considered), at the prices that have prevailed during re­ cent years, or are likely to obtain in the future, cannot well be provided for less than 20 cents a day, if the horse Is to be kept in good working condition, making a feed cost of $73. Taking each of these lowest estimates and making no charge for bedding, taxes, veterinary fees, medicine and other small Items of general expense, we have a total cost of $121.75. In view of these figures, It seems entirely conservative to assume that it costs from $120 to $140 per year to keep a work horse on our corn belt farms. From these figures it can be readily seen how large an item horse AGRICULTURE IN COUNTRY SCHOOLS By V- fi Prof. A. W. Nolan. to see to it that tbe elements of agri­ culture be taught in tbe country schools. It is therefore a problem and ik duty for the educators to co-operate witn the farmers in the preparation of vourses, in the selection of subject- master. in devising best methods of procedure and In the training and se­ lection of teachers for this work. Agricultural nature-study should be the work of the first six grades of the graded school. In the country tbe grades may be combined for this work as follows: First and second, third and fourth, fifth and sixth. We shall not discuss here the nature or this work in the lower grades but con­ fine the discussions to the agriculture in the seventh and eighth grades, where, in the opinion of the writer, more strictly agricultural work should be given. A88I3TANT PROFE8SOR A. W. NOLAN. Agricultural College Extension, Uni­ versity of Illinois. The people of tbe country are, and always will be, Industrial, and hence, with the progress of education there arises a demand for vocational train­ ing In the country scsools. Whether we will or not, the farmers are going labor really la In our farm expense ao- count In connection with the cost of keep­ ing farm horses, we might profit by a little detailed study of the coBt of horse labor per hour in ordinary farm practice. Here again, when accurate records are kept, the number of hours of labor performed per day is found to be surprisingly small. While we have few accurate records covering a suffi­ ciently large number of horses, the Minnesota investigations along these lines bring out some valuable informa­ tion. These studies, including a con­ siderable number of horses on 40 to 50 farms in various parts of the state. Bhow that for a five-year period the average farm horse works only about three hours per day, on the basis of 300 working days a year. And it is likely that this is not far from the average number of hours of labor per­ formed on the ordinary corn-belt farm. From these figures, it seems logical to believe that the average cost per hour for horse labor must be from 13 to 15 cents, or from $1.30 to $1.50 for a 10- hour day. Since it is rather unlikely that on the average farm the total cost of keeping a horse can be very much re­ duced, the only rational solution of this projblem appears to be the adop­ tion of systems of management that will enable us to reduce the cost per horse hour, through the better utiliza­ tion of our horses in the productive enterprises of the farm. This might be done in some in­ stances by keeping brood mares and raising foals. In others, by growing a greater variety of crops rather than devoting a large portion of the farm to one crop. The production of live stock should also help to distribute horse labor more evenly throughout the entire yeah In addition to this, the general effi­ ciency of management should be stud- led, In order that the work may be done 4n a satisfactory manner with the least number of horses capable of doing It. This means that all work which can be done during the winter, or other slack times, must not Inter­ fere withjhe regular work during the busy season. It means that every horse must go into the busy season in fit condition to do a horse's work. It means that, through intelligent man­ agement, he must be kept at bis high­ est efficiency every day he Is needed in the harness. In short, it means that only through the most efficient utilization of our animals can we hope to reduce the cost of horse labor on our farms. The sequence of subject-matter stud­ ied in rural school agriculture should be In harmony with the seasonal se­ quence of actual farm operations. Sev­ eral good reasons for this plan are evident. Illustrative material is more easily available, the Interest of school patrons in the work of the school by co-operative activities is more easily aroused, and the habit of doing the righi thing at the right time is formed. Text-books should contain simple el­ ementary discussions of the princi­ ple of good farm practice as it pro­ ceeds in the community where the school exists. Such practical exer­ cises as collecting insects, weed seeds, etc.; judging and scoring corn; planting trees and examining fruit; testing seed corn; school garden work, where the term la long enough, are ac­ tivities entirely practical and highly beneficial in the country schooL A great deal of home work and many farm projects directed from the school are advisable in connection with country school agriculture. Test­ ing the home seed corn and the butter fat content of the home milk supply, the keeping of field, dairy and feeding records, the directing of home gar­ dens, and many other lines of coop­ eration are possible and profitable In connection with the course in agricul­ ture. If the teacher is keenly alive and resourceful, he can make large use of the men and materials on the farms of the community in teaching agricul­ ture in the country schools. He may even organize a weekly or monthly session of the class in week and dem­ onstration meetings at the home farms of the community, where com­ petent and successful farmers may give talks and demonstrations to tbe class. This plan properly carried out would give opportunity for some real teaching of agriculture to tbe boys and girls of the country. The school could well supplement such demon­ strations by quizzes, reading and prac­ tical problems. After all is said and done that can be accomplished in the one-room coun­ try school, it still remains true that the most effective work In agriculture, both as a school subject and a voc» tlonal one, will come through teach ing it in consolidated rural schools where a good high school may be or­ ganised and where a special teacher of agriculture may be employed. tIMure TMa a Stoef BAH BACKS DO MAKE WORK HARD Backache makes die dailj toil, for thousands, an agony hard to endure. Many of these poor sufferers have kidney trouble and don't know it. Swollen, aching kidneys usually go hand in hand with irregular kidney action, headache, dizziness, nervous­ ness and despondency. Just try a box of Doan's Kidney Pills, the best-recommended special kidney remedy. This good mprtirfno has cured thousands. \ HERE'S A TYPICAl CASE-- J. L, Richardson, Red Key, IndL, says: "My back ached as if it would break. 1 could not move without in­ tense pain. The kidneys were in snch shape it was necessary to draw the secretions. Doan's Kidney Pills cared me completely after doctors gave up hope and I have not had the slightest trouble since,." Get Bean's if in? Brag Sttra, 506. t In DOAN'S Reducar Corset Every iitoul w'osiasi needs this Corset. Already worn by millions. Patented features absolutely prevent breaking- at the sides. Reduces the abdomen 3 to & inches without injury. Warranted to gin satisfaction. AT DEALERS or sent direct for $IJ« Armorslde St via 207, tot medium and slender flgurcs, $140 BIRDIif-SOMERS CO. 233 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK FIRST GLASS OPENING oatmeal, pla­ ning mills. Soap, sae&i aiiij bus factory, laundry, bakery, tannery. Also retailers, wholesalers and builders with some capital. Cheap electric power, water, fne!, SI®arr of Wqbn, TniM1r1ii-«- ^THOMPSON'S /EYE WATER Hooklet free. i ilouji L.THOMPSON SONS* CO.. Troy, N. *• Do Not Overcrowd. To reap profits from poultry the flock mdst be separated Into pens' of small numbers. Overcrowding Is one of the greatest mistakes, and this has been demonstrated. Dream of marriage signifies mad* ness. Health Is tbe fashion. -Take Garfield Tea. the herb laxative which purifies the bloou and brings good health. A man ceases to be a good husband when he begins to feel sorry for him­ self. He Was. Mistress--Why, Norah, what are you doing on that policeman's knee? Norah--Sure, mum, he's a-restln" me! THEN HE WENT. Myrtle--Have you ever tried to figure out what Shakespeare meant by the words, "Stand not upon the order of your going?" \ Qeorge--No. Hare you? Myrtle--Yes. The definition is "Don't wait for a house to fall on you." Every Crisp, Little Flake Of Post 1 oasiies has a flavour all its own. "Toasties" are made of selected white Indian com; first cooked, then rolled into wafer-like bits and toasted to an appetizing golden brown. A f a v o r i t e f o o d f o r breakfast, lunch or supper in thousands upon thousands of homes where people are particular. "The Memory Lingers" Sold by <iecw» FoMum Cereal Company, Limttal Battle Greek, Mich.