oould be cultivated. Now, when on a Inge farm a piece of woodland is clear- ting quickly, so that it takes a good many years before the stamps are ready for removal. Beeidea, where the field ie plowed every two or three years each time the land is plowed some part of the roots will be loosened or brok- en off, and the remvoal of these leaves a vacant place in the coil, which, of course is filled with air, which hastens the decay of what parts of the root and stump are left. Besides this, agrase cod pastured down keeps the soil heavy when it should be light, and as this lea- 'V-vâ€" â€"' _â€"_ _ lens the crop that may be expected from the land, it is a decided encour- agement to plowing it. Just here is where the advantage of seeding with er. This keeps the soil porous down to the depth of the clover roots, and as they are all the time giving of]! car- honic acid gas, it makes stump roots rot more quickly when in contact with clover roots than when the surface on- ly is covered with grass roots and there are none in contact with parts of the decaying stump. Besides, if the clover is sown with land plaster, it will hold all through the summer a great am- ount of dew, and this will also help keep the stumps moist. We well re- member onoo when a newly cleared stump lot was seeded with clover see- ing many stumps that were partly de- cayed on the outside, and strong clover plants growing up against them and extending their roots among the de- caying wood. Sometimes one or more clover seeds will fall into the hollow stupms and take root in the sediment that is always found at their bottom. In such cases we always noticed that ' WLULUIJ W1 lull“- the stuï¬mp decayed very quickly. If we; wanted to rot a sound stump as soon' ‘ as possible, we should do it by putting GIVE COWS (100D STABLES. oil of vitrol on its tap until it had A cow, like a human being, suffers eaten out a hollow, and then fill this, from bad environment. Stables must with rich soil and put one or more clov-u well lighted, ventilated er seeds in it to grow. If we had depth 2 be dry, clean, . enough of soil to hold the rainfall, ; and comfortable, else the animals con- WG have no doubt that these c1(3V‘51'lfined in them will suffer in health. plants would soon begin to eat IntozMost of the bovine tuberculosis is made the stump and hasten its decomposi-l . . . tion. After two or three crops of clov-i possible through the dirty, unventll- or have been grown, most of the stumps‘ ated stables, and it spreads rapidly 0‘. beech, maple and the 50“" “'00“ through herds when once introduced m“ be rotted enough so that they can because of bad physical conditions. be profitably lifted out by machinery made for this purpose. It is because! A damp wet stable causes rheuma- we believe in clearing away the stumps: tism in cows. Lack. of ventilation and early, while the soil is full 0f vege‘lsunlight lowers their vitality, and table matter, that we recommend fro-j makes them resemble children who are “99‘“ seeding with clover rather than . never allowed to breathe the pure air w‘th grass. It ‘3 an important mat- 3 or to play in the sunlight. When to filth ter to have new land freed from Itsiand dampness. to darkness and foul stumps while 1t. “ capable 0‘. 8’0“" air is added the torture of the immov- lng large crops, instead of leaving the able stanchion. we may truly say the stumps to slowly rot out, and the Btnll patient animals are confined in cow in the meantime becoming partly ex"ipeuitentiaries, and the conditions are hausted, so that almost from the first, such that to produce wholesome milk measures have to be used. Possibly our is an impossibility. cleared lands are less rich than they used to be because, under present con- --â€"â€"-~-.....â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"-~ ditions, all parts of the trees find some POINTED PAR AGR APHS. use, and none of them have to be burn- ed on the land as refuse. But if the newly c.1931?" land is kept seeded With ‘ It is a wise barber who never illusr 33:9 It 311 tvrobably betas {itch b3 trates his stories with cuts. ime s umps are c as 1 use . to be under the old system, when it The suns that pay best are the Iâ€. had, at the first, an excess of potash. ones we want 0 give up. That probably hastened the decomposi- Many good examples are set. but few tion of the vegetable matter in the of them are ever hatched. soil, without at all hastening, but rath- The confirmed bachelor prefers to set‘ er retarding, the rotting of stumps and tle his affairs out of court. their roots. 1.... -1-..“ -l n... Mat 3: .1... mm â€"â€" HEAVES AND INDIG ESTION. There is no radical cure for the heaves which is really broken wind from struc- tural changes in the air cells of the lungs, but indigestion is often combin- ed with heaves. Every disease has a be- ginning, so when a horse is getting‘ "heavey" he becomes much more so! when hitched up directly after break: fast. on a full stomach. When this is repeated day after day, indigestion de- velops, and especially so when the food is coarse as well as unsuitable. Horses affected should be fed sparingly on the best kind of foodâ€"Le†sound, clean oats, good. coarse, whole wheat bran and fine upland meadow hay chaff, which should be free from dust, damp- ened and sprinkled over with table salt. Once or twice a week a mash should be made of the feed and a pint of flax- seed meal added to it. This will soft- en the contents of the bowels and tend to prevent indigestion before it be- comes chronic as well as the hooves. Watering is another item to be at- tended to in these troubles. Water should be given, halt anbonr before (ceding, never on top breakfast. dinner or supper. When you do this you wash the food out of the stomach before the gastric juices have prepared it for the first process of digestion. This pro- duces indigeltion. Affected horses mould not he allowed loose hay on! hay chaff of fine quality mixed wit bran and outs and given dampened. this" diet will lone. the heaven in vol- think it out for himself, and see that there is no place for union or meâ€" dicine to get in and do good in such structural changes. It should be not- ed that heaves is the sequel of a bad cold; therefore, when young horses are sick they should have the best atten- tion, so as to prevent! the development A correspondent says :â€" planted, perhaps, a mil my lifetime. I met wit urea, and cannot remember, having wa- tered any of these trees. If the soil is made thoroughly fine before plant- ing; if the soil about the roots is press- ed in very firm, as firm as a fence post; if the soil is left loose on the top, and kept continually loose by cul- tivation, the trees will live even though the season may be dry.†In connection with this paragraph, it may be noted that, on one occasion within the experience of the writer, a large number of trees that had been planted in the spring, and had grown tolerab- 1y well, showed signs during the fol-‘ lowing very dry summer of wiltingl their leaves for want of water. An exâ€"? amination seemed to show that al-‘ though the trees had been well plant- ed in the common acceotation of the term, yet the earth in many cases was not packed closely around the roots. It was not convenient to water them. The owner was recommended to pound the earth around the trees with a heavy paving rammer. This was done. It is almost impossible to convey an idea of the force used on this occasion. A force was exerted fully equal to that employed by the regular rammers in PaVing the streets. The earth being very dry was reduced to fine powder by this process. and moisture was drawn upward by capillary attraction. In a couple of days afterward, there was not. the slightest sign of wilting, although no water had been applied, h but few fail- any evidence of suffering for want of watenuntil the next rain came. Had the 9011 not been heavily_beate_n in this 5 A damp wet stable causes rheuma- ; tism in cows. Lack. of ventilation and lsunlight lowers their vitality, and : makes them resemble children who are {never allowed to breathe the pure air or to play in the sunlight. When to filth land dampness. to darkness and foul air is added the torture of the immov- able stanchion. we may truly say the ’patient animals are confined in cow penitentiaries, and the conditions are 'such that to produce wholesome milk .is an impossibility. â€8" W55 “XII: vv â€"v-vv way their dean: wou'lâ€"dv have been abâ€" solutely certain. GIV'E COWS GOOD STABLES. A cow, like a human being, suffers from bad environment. Stables must be dry, clean, well lighted, ventilated and comfortable, else the animals con- WATERING It is a wise barber who never illus- trates his stories with cuts. The sins that pay best are the last ones we want to give up. Many good examples are set, but few of them are ever hatched. The confirmed bachelor prefers to set- tle his affairs out of court. Men glance at the pastâ€"if she who passed is young and pretty. It’s always hard to please a man who doesn’t know what he wants. ‘ Lots at people are too selfish to as- sist others in having a good time. It isn’t always the fighting parson who puts his congregation to sleep. Luck sometimes goes up in the ele- vator and then falls down the shaft. A girl’s conversation is naturally flowery when she talks through her hat. It’s the income tacks that renders the bicycle repair kit indispensable. No man even thinks enough of his mother-inâ€"law to make his wife jeal- “ Say somefhing and saw no wood,†seems to be the tramp’s version of it. But few people worry themselves to death because of other peOple‘s hatred. ' Ten cents in your pocket will pur- chase more than the dollar some one Men never overlook a chance to t ake a vacation, but it’s differ t meters. en with gas Physicians are called upon to prep- cribe for the imagination oftener than anything else. Time improves everything but wom- en; they, of course. have been perfect from the beginning. ‘ Life insurance is no doubt a good thing, but what porno glen need most have {min to? loafing dround {5 front of cigar stores. Slang and baseball talk are the near. out coma maple ever come to speak‘ the English Isuzu-m. -- m8 Nearly all. the; 309d indium seem to ,1; 'vw‘ “ And to-morrow you leave me. a..- go back to that horrid London l†“ Only for three months. dearest. Then I shall come back to Rockeea and claim you.†1 Jessie Poole laid her pretty head con- tentedly on the rough tweed shoulder of the Norfolk jacket. Will Preston was a clever young art- ist. Looking round for a suitable place at which to stay the summer. he had stumbled across the little creeper-clad cottage where Jessie Poole lived and nursed her bedridden father. and had induced them to let him make their home his abode during his stay. A thorough woman was Jessie, and as such she appealed to the artist’s temp Perameut. Beautiful she could hardly be called. but her clear gray eyes and the curve of her small firm mouth went straight to Will Preston’s heart. and before he was aware of it the inevit- able had happened. Presently the shapely head was raiap ed from the collar of the Norfolk jack- at, and a low voice inquired: " What are you going to do with yourself this afternoon. Will 3" “Oh. I’m going to row out to that Picturesque old wreck. and take a few sketches of it.†“ But you’re not going alone. Will. are you? You know it’s off a very dan- serous Part of the coast. and there are a lot of cross currents and sunk- en rocks.†“Oh. that’s all right, little one. Your old admirer, Jem, Barclay, is ‘bosaing the show.’ He knows every inch of the coast, and I’ve every confi- dence in him; so you need have no Qualms, deer, that I shall not be back safe before dark.†{As he mentioned the name of his guide Jessie looked up suddenly and seemed about to speak, then appeared to alter her mind. and was silent. “ So ta-ta. dearest,†he went on, bend- ing down and fondly kissing the sweet lips upturned to his. “I must be off. The tide will soon be on the turn. and it’s a good two miles row.†- __ â€"â€" wâ€"~v-vâ€"v‘-- wuv-v-J . “No; I think he could my good-by to life." “ Then you can say good-by to yours, for that’s where you’re going my fine % gentleman i†I Will Preston turned quickly round in amazement, at the words, when, with an oath, Barclay flung himself upon him, and bore him backward. The back of his head struck the deck with a crash. 31nd he lost consciousness. ‘1 V In II. The wreck toward which the little boat was rapidly cutting its way was all that remained of the schooner Bon- nie Belle. A year ago she had been driven by a storm on to a sunken rock. At high tide merely a few feet of her sole remaining stump of a mast was visible. but at low water she was only partially submerged. As Will Preston lay back in the stern of the boat fingering the tiller ropes. he could not but admire the stalwart figure in front of him. Jem Barclay was a young fisherman. living down in the village about a mile from Jes- sie Poole’e lonely cottage. Uver six feet in height.â€"and proportionately broad, his muscles stood out like bands of steel as he pulled untiringly at the oars. Soon they reached the wreck. and, as it was now low tide. the boat was pull- ed alongside, and they clambered up on to the slippery deck. The schooner was but a mere shell after all. and as Will peered down through what had once been the hatchway nothing was to be seen but the inky blackness of the water in the bold. He was startled from his reverie by a laugh from his companion. “ A man wouldna do much good, Mr. Preston. once he got‘down there, eh 3†' Ov' ._‘--â€" vâ€" av, vu- The-re was szmething in tï¬e man’s tone that jarred unpleasantly upon the artist’s ear. and he 'ansyered shortly: COKTA. TLI' I -vâ€"v vquVUVHOYHUDQ. When his senses came slowly back tq him. he found himself propped with his back against the mast. his arm passed backward round it. and his hands tightly bound together at the other side. His cap had been forced into his mnuth, and his handkerchief bound tiBhtly round. forming a most efficient (ma. Ila-Inn him nlnnfl Tn... efficient gag. Before him stood Jem Barclay. his arms folded and his black eyes flashing triumphantly. " You see, 1’": changed my mind,†he began. " It. seemed a pity to chuck you down in t'hold. You wouldn’t ha’ had the to think over things. Oh. yes, I know ehe refused me a year ago. but I’d ha’ won her right enough in time if you hadn’t come with your fine ways and oily tongue. Now I’m goin’ to wish you good-by. It'll be high tide at 9 o’clock. and then t’ sea will be a foot aboon your head. Happen ~you’d like to see how t’ time goes. though. Well, {He look his knife trom his pocket _, u uus were tied. had the use of his teetfand as his tormentor came withimeaoh the lunged out with all his force. Taken unawarea. the man . sprang backward to avoid the blow, and, for- gotfnl of the hatchway behind him. lost his balance and fell down it. In tailing he turnedhalt round. and mm. Pocket then 3 in- "III "at“ Univ Wâ€".____ the water. and waited. horror-at ruck, for my further sound. but nothing met his can save the wash of the waves, Ho struggled to free himself. so that useless. The fisherman had done his work on- ly too well, and "had himself kept back gelhelp that might. perhaps, have sav- 1m. tried to wriggle up by clasplng the mat with his legs; he found it im- possible, and black despair began to creep over him. The tide had already turned. and was creeping through the broken bulwarks. and soon the first wave came gently washing along the deck. nearly reach- ing his feet. Again he strained and tug- ged at his bonds in vain. He turned his eyes longingly toward the boat. which had ‘been moored to the side of the schooner. and then indeed he gave up hope. for it was gone! The rope had been too loosely tied. and there was the boat. already fifty yards away. drifting with the incom- 1ng_ tide. -o o A ______j Lkn n‘:“- Bible. â€"â€" "â€"vv Soon the water reached his knees. then in little ripples circled round his waist. Another halt-hour passed. and the cliffs were lost to view. while the lights began to twinkle in the village and along the little wooden pier. Higher and higher rose the water until it reached his shoulders. and he began to feel chill and numb. Presently the {gal-goat of gâ€"éieï¬mer’s paddles came w'ftfted over the shimmering sea. and mth a wild thrill of hope he turned his head. Yes. there she was, gliding along swiftly and smoothly her portholes and saloons brightly lit. and the strains of the band coming to him cheerily as she churned her homeward course. the passengers joining in song in happy content after the pleasures of the day. Click! click! He’s a monkey on a stick. they sang; and the shadow of asmile stole across the doomed man’s face at the appositeness of the "Geisha’s." words. Oh, if he could ’only get rid of that suffocating gag, his cries might be heard. But no sound came from his aching throat and the pleasure steamer glided on her way. .. And now the water reached his chin. and he knew his life could be number- ed by minutes only. He fixed his weary eyes upon one light that glimmered starlike on the side of the cliff, away from the others. He knew it came from the little room where his love would ï¬e waiting and wondering what kept 1m. And as he looked the light seemed to go out for an instant; then it ap- peared again; again disappeared. and once more flashed into eight. What did it mean? Suddenly it struck him that it was something on the surface of the water which kept coming between his eyes and the light. Could it be a boat? He strained his ears. and fan- cied he could hear the rattle of the oars in the rowlocks. Yes. yes, it was a boat; coming straight toward him too. And at last a straggling moon- beam came slanting across the sea. and doubt gave place to certainty. for, 31- though still a long way oft. he could distinguish a figure in the ’boatâ€"a fig- ure that caused his pulse to throb wild- ly. the figure of a girl. Would she. could she do it in time? Heiwas stand- ing, now on the very tips of his toes. and even then an occasional wave. higher than the rest. would wash into his nostrils. and give him a foretaste of what was to come .Nearer and near- er came the boat. and higher rose the water. Could he ho“! out? The strain was awful. Throwing a shawl around her. she strolled out into the evening. and look- ed away over the sea. She could not make out the mast of the wreck in the falling light. but something bob- hing about at the foot of the cliff arâ€" rested her attention. " Whatever can have come to those two?" queried Jessie. as the shadows leggthensd, and_stil! no Will appearsd. _“It looks like a boat 1" she gasped with sudden foreboding. And in an in- stant she yvas speedipg _dov§'n the path. A moment more and she had reached the shore, and there, not twenty yards away. she recognized Jem Barclay’a boat-«zmpty; and something of the truth flashed upon her. “ Merciful Heaven l" she moaned. “ The boat has got adrift and left them on the wreck!" There was no time to run to the vin- lage for help. What had to be done must be done quickly. With atervent prayer the brave girl dashed into the water, clambered over the side, un~ shipped the care, and in another min- ute the how we once more turned sea- ward: and the little boat was speeding to the rescue. At last. after a lifetime of doubts and tears. she turned and saw the sunk- en" mast standing out in bold contrast to the silvery pathway caused by the rising moon‘; and_at the base. on the ‘..“‘--A _‘ J V-u "-_ food or medicine is 10 no v Poetâ€"My don r. I W'7 for a W “- her the Children out. .. ,Are 1! _“ the to write a poem. ï¬nd that you feel the PM ’ â€link Poetâ€"Oh, I‘m inspireda It. the money. rd the 1 nio Belle.’ by W. Preston ‘ R A â€â€™ proudly added Jeni. d- d away homewu they turne Make a mm“. On the day affer the recent amoun’cod, a depositor at a pri nkers office near by expremdh opinion with great emphasis transacting his own businesn. .u‘ chokmg mywlf. Hm, I g; and so I gave it up m w to the corned hevf [m I‘m as imprc’Ssiunuh bits. but it seems that I 411 km in this particuiar wuuuu wuu great. empm ' Jâ€"‘r transacting his own business. “Such monstrous carelessneu :m I“ the greater (115‘:qu , n .. Muse I had (bum: never knonn! he declared. h â€worked. all right I :1 gold was taken from the count“ “I; bill of fare 1n thu‘ der the eyes of the bank clerk and VI“ directions. I bud h messenger. The thief got anywi it befone he was seen by any detecti and before anybody knew that thing had been taken. Eve m PAY SPIDERS seems to have been asleep except all know that certain 5pm.] light-fingered robber. In. .- ‘1‘?“ amallm it “Clerk. mmeemzer and detecti ought to be sentenced to prison be a timely warning against the quences of criminal carelessnm'. erybody in a hunk ought to have ' “r in the building ({ wits about him and to keep bis? tto consider it an upon the gold Hm is in front of him , a}! so _emplqys anm h A 500 latest one, that the agrees) ant which. "I" "â€"“U The worthy man grew red in face as he exprvxs‘od his scorn of less and sleepy clvrks and messen and strode out of the banking off: with an air of vixtunus indignau Two hours afterward he returrnd wi an anxious face. "Did I leaw my money behind when I was hwx‘e this morning?" asked, abruptly. . "YeS," said \h» clerk. grimly. found it on the side4>oumer you had gonefli . thin work for it. A 8111.1-1 a mom. trained to ac: as '- tll things. Thq green .-. m: flat. for their labors n a " thy enjoy. It is by gnu; d aportion of the innnme “I that they, the 9.115, ii I most agreeable arr-.11.! t". mu. included, as o’. h»: 1M A: at: would rival 1h? rm 0 “W Australia. L n J “1:3kAA left behind im a bag containing†oral thousand pounds in securities. "I am greatly rvlieved," he said. find it here. I could not tell whethe I had left. it in a cab. of whet!!! had been robbed in the street.†This man had been as conï¬dent! his own vigilance, as the chief of“ coin delivery service of 1116 Bank! England had been a few years bet?! He had boasted that it wogld b“! . ‘ H This man had been a his own vigilance as U coin delivery service 0 England had been :1 fm He had boasted that. it possible for anybody I: cry-wagon which my charge. , . â€I†'I No! Inn-rah" _ Hf- Ildury rm. nun ( u ml Ithaca-d: “Tl-nu. and 'III CI!!! It “0|â€:th «ï¬nes Again. This man had hepn as confident his Own vigilzmm as 1119 chief oft coin delivery servicp of the Bank England had ham a few years M9 He had boastod that it would be 1" possible for nnylmdy to rob a deli. eryâ€"wagon “1‘th “'35 under _ " 0“» 31.â€"New.<p':per charge. . . Pekin. China. In ‘11 The officials dvmdt‘d (11119â€? to“ 20 the effect kbal 1111 his vigilance tn the test. 000 “In: of Bright's Dig“: . i ‘ he was sent mth four men to 9 "U the are of a famou»~ l. way station to recmve from 80“†‘ th asserts that the amount 0 9° ' “Plant [a “an insum‘nl ' i a lur e . - 'll‘nlfeytijaxl‘lried mg 201d t0 â€1"†“1‘: “‘3' cryâ€"wagon. but while thev â€T‘s: 5 Where the famnu.C F ting it in. a bank detecuve. 1‘; . _ ' " In mistaken, disguised in appearance. 80“â€. ‘ h “0 bearable Kidney d1 use of the Kivmvys i: snatching up a ‘nag ~ '.. ' and walk; m0 like a†0‘ her t‘i‘. A Y to the proper medivi thousand sovereigns. hls coat. 3'30““ 0‘ ‘h? pus issed until We ‘ n.|.nn away with it under 'I‘Ln Man “02H: “0‘ m An invention rece oonveraazione of th England, 5091115 lik vate house-to-house ed, to supersed contrivanoe is a telegml without a battery. ' " Stelgea. It requires typewrites the 111985386 "n. of the receiver, while retzlinl ha nd qua lo ' rte w 1‘ o a (“31‘ '1' . )out th up)“ “'h. 1 Mi“ Something “‘1ԠI.“ fateful“ ordered. OFF GUARD. then, v- - “V“U‘. \u ' my flat will cul'e":‘n§..€ “aâ€. no matter hnw I “at how long it hm My in known thl'uu Wag mrld. m mgemeq Elite. by 8119-1 “(nu |" "" lismtiYPd “bent: and the dd“ 4; one. r-f" TY pEWRITER' mu?! P1118 vvm‘kpd "1 m In each and mm! b they were rm'ogni: known cure for diw'. a including Bright? beta. ‘ they have hpld ~ind ' NO other (‘UV‘P fur Am PAY SPIDERS Ibnflk u we do cows. Izu' It“ most utonishing dismjw btho latest one, that there, II HIS PHYSICIA’I IOUNCES HIS DISEASE INCURABLE. ’11 MAY L of n doubt. (1181-111 Ina Pills. 1'. ° ey PM Wen Mica! men were In; their power t: unfortunate dis] "I41 much more t Minions that M? perfectiona l._ AA- Expâ€"criment DA‘ HS irl