:'_ cii
THE GOOD DIRT ROAD.
(a ■ not Exist Where Surface and
Subaurface Drainage Are Kot
Complete.
_
The first and most important es
sential for a good dirt road is thor
ough drainage. Drainage to be tlior
not only take off the sur
water but also the sub-surface
moisture.
To have a dry and solid surface on
a dirt road there must be beneath
a subsoil that is not sat
tirated with water. No matter how
well the roadbed be graded up, un
less ample provision is made for
thoroughly and speedily draining out
the subsurtrace moisture the road
will beconffe “muddy” after every
heavy ra*h—if the rains continue
such rq^fids become impassable.
open ditches at the sides of
road will carry off the surface
lffuir^ater- not drain the road
bed speedily enough to prevent mud
and preclude sponginess, the condi
tion so wearying to draft animals
and detrimental to heavy hauling.
To afford qtiick and effective drain
age a line of six-inch tile should be
laid in the center of the road below
■ the reach of frost.
In the level land where the soil is
loose and porous such a tile so laid
in a graded roadbed would drain a
Tk track <0 feet wide. As onen side
ditches, constructed so as to give a
continuous and unobstructed flow of
water, will not only carry off the sur
face water but also aid in draining
off subsurface moisture, the addition
of the six-inch tile as here suggested
will speedily and thoroughly drain
the roadbed.
The distance which such a tile
drain can be run without outlet will
depend upon the lay and character
of the land, varying from 30 to 60
rods. In very flat land, where not
convenient to obtain frequent out
lets, two six-inch tiles may be laid
side and side of each other, which
will permit a longer distanr.'' be
tween outlets; but the outlets should
be sufficiently numerous to rapidly
drain out all subsurface water.
A roadbed cannot be thoroughly
drained when the side ditches are so
small that the water stands in pools
or sink holes and only escapes by
absorption or evaporation.
Where surface and subsurface
drainage are complete, good dirt
roads may be had. Where they are
.-fw£.--good it is impossible to have
good dirt roads.—Farmers’ Voice.
EXCELLENT ROOT PIT.
Its Dcftljtner Considers It Indispen
sable for the Successful Win
tering of Hoot Crops.
_
Last winter my beets, turnips and
carrots were for the first time pre
served in a pit; results were wholly sat
isfactory. The root did not shrink and
grow wilty as they will in a cellar that
DESIRABLE FORM OF ROOT PIT.
Is too dry and warm. The pit was
2x4x8 foot. The roots were thrown in
mixed just as happened, spaces be
tween the roots being filled with tlie
sandy subsoil. The sand filling does
much to preserve firmness and quality.
The heap was covered wit If three
inches of st raw, then a layer of boards,
T then more straw, and finally with six
to eight inches of soil.—G. B. Fiske, in
Farm and Home.
Growing; Onions Under Glass.
The Farm and Fireside says, that
there is a chance for profitable work
in some sections growing the Prize
taker or other Spanish onions under
glass, and selling the young plants
V by the hundred or by the thousand
to those who want them to set out
in the spring, and yet do not want
to bother with a hotbed or have no
greenhouses. This method of start
ing onion plants under glass and
transplanting them seems to grow
more popular each year, as it gets,
well-ripened onions into market
much earlier than when they are
grown from the seed, and the Span
ish onions seem to be best adapted
to that plan where they can hardly
be grown out of doors.
Care of IVugun lloxea.
It pays to have a good bottom in the
wagon-box and it also pays to have a
hired man who will not throw a chunk
of rock salt of coal as large as a cook
stove from a car into the wagon, break
ing a hole in the bottom large enough
to throw a cat through. A man who
will do this ought to be made to fur
nish enough coal for one stove all win
ter, I am of the opinion that some
kind of springs on the bolsters of the
wagon would save the bottoms of the
boxes, and 1 know that it is necessary
to have a good plate on the side, where
the front wheel cramps in turning.
Neglecting this means a new box some
times.—Midland Farmer.
& ^
. 4
THE FARM ORCHARD,
ft* Value Consists to a targe B«teal
In the Plea*amt Sentlmemt
Connected with It.
When we remember the old farm,
there is nothing that comes to our
mind bearing a greater sense oil
pleasure than the old orchard. It
was the orchard that filled the air
with perfume in the spring, thrilled
us with promises in the summer, and
kept its promises of good things in
the fall. What stronger influence is
there binding the sons and daugh
ters of the farm to their old home?
Every farmer that owns a farm and
expects to live upon it in the future
should have a family orchard. This
orchard is not the one that is to
supply apples and other fruit for
market, but for the family only. The
commercial orchard must contain
only a few varieties of fruit, but the
family orchard should contain a
great many different kinds. It is de
sirable that the family have apples
from midsummer to the next spring.
A few trees of early family apples
should be set out. Then others that
ripen at the end of summer and in
the early fall. More should be
grown that will keep till midwin
ter, and some that will keep till the
next spring. A great variety of
fruit will prove pleasing to the fam
ily rather than a few kinds. Then,
too, it is a matter of education to
the younger members of the house
hold, for the fruits and the lesson*
concerning them learned in child
hood will never be forgotten. The
grower should know the name of
every fruit that grows on hi*
grounds, and this will add to the in
terest the children show in the or
chard. Lastly, the well-kept orchard
will add immensely to the value of
the farm, if it ever has to be sold.
The value of such an orchard will
not be estimated in the value of the
amount of fruit it will produce, but
to a large extent in the sentiment
connected with it. The prospective
buyer sees in the orchard not only so
many bushels of apples, but he sees
in it a certain element of pleasure
to his family. He beholds in hi*
mind’s eye a mass of bloom in the
spring, the waving of fruit-laden
boughs in the summer, and the glis
tening of dew-brightened fruit in the
fall. He is generally willing to pay
something for these. By all means,
create an orchard for the family.
—Farmers’ Review.
TIMBER FOR POSTS.
The Tree* Ilcst Snited for Thl« Pat
pone Are lied Cednr, White
Cednir nnd Common Locnst.
For five years the Vermont experi
ment station has been trying to raise
the very best timber for fence posts
on the most worthless soil from an ag
ricultural standpoint, and it has had
remarkable success. The three com
mon trees, best suited for posts, are
the red cedar, tfce white cedar and the
common locust. Seedlings from nine
varieties of trees, including the above,
were planted in the driest tract of
level sand plain east of Burlington,
where the pitch pine is the only tree
that makes a vigorous natural growth.
Here the white pine did fairly well, but
the locust far outstripped all others.
Of several thousand seedlings set out
last spring when less than a foot high,
92 per cent, are now alive and three
feet or more in height, with vigorous
tops. Twenty year old trees near by
have a diameter averaging nine inches
.. ± i- r i \... r * „ _
25 feet. Each of these trees will fur
nish three fence posts and some fire
wood. A thousand trees can be plant
ed to the acre, and the seedlings cost
only $3.50 per thousand. The only
source of trouble is the borer; this
may be greatly reduced by planting oc
casional rows of white pine among ths
locusts. On the whole locust fence
posts may be considered a very val
uable product of otherwise worthies*
soil.
POST DRAWING DEVICE.
Homemade Arrangement of Simple
Construction Which Is Sure to
Give Satisfaction.
It is not a hard thing to pull up a
post or big stake, as a general thing,
if proper conveniences for the work are
HANDY FOR DRAWING POSTS.
at hand. The plan portrayed explains
itself. The iron may be round or
square but the points should be kept
sharp. Hammer each into the |.ost
enough to hold securely. The lever
should have a nail, cleat or iron on tne
end so the iron hook will not slip off.—
J. J. Jones, in Farm and Home.
Run Cow* for I’atrons,
A Salem (Ore.) creamery operator
has entered upon a plan for the devel
opment of the dairy interest of his
neighborhood. Whenever he finds an
industrious farmer who desires to pur
chase cows for a dairy herd, but who
has not sufficient capital, the creamery
man buys the necessary cows and then
sells them to the farmer, taking a
mortgage. This plan has been prac
ticed previously by creamery men, not
ably large companies operating ia
Kansas, and has been found successful.
~ 1_
FOlftlGN G^Sclip.
Parrots arjJtaten by Africans, nnd
smoked bsU^Re considered a great
dainty.
Skyscrapers are not wanted in Paris.
The new regulations limit the height
of a building to 66 feet.
Malta, with a population of nearly
200.000 persons, relies almost wholly
upon goats for its milk supply. A goat
is worth $10 to $25, and its yield of milk
is four to five pints a day.
All efforts to diminish intemperance
have failed in Moscow. The city has
1.036.000 inhabitants; the number of
arrests for the year ending July 14,
1902, was 53,617, a daily average of 147.
Smoked fish is a favorite article of
food in Germany. The home supply is
so inadequate that there is a large im
port of fresh fish which are smoked or
otherwise cured, and sold at large pro
fits. Last year the whole, fish import
of Germany was over 71,000 tons.
The Japanese government is endea
voring to stamp out the barbaric cus
tom among the lower classes of using
the heads of human bodies for medical
purposes. The heads are charred over
a fire and ground into powder, which is
sold under the disguised name of ten
seki.
A French correspondent at Bang
kok complains that French influence
is rapidly disappearing in Siam. Among
two hundred European railway offi
cials only one is French; the principal
steamship line is in German hands,
while the most important positions
are filled by Danes, Belgians, and Eng
lishmen.
Emperor William recently ordered
the army chaplains to deliver period
ical lectures in the evening for the
benefit of private soldiers. Attendance
is usually small, not being compulsory
but one reverend gentleman found that
his lecture-room was filled every even
ing. He was much pleased, and to the
commanding officer expressed his plea
sure, at'the religious awakening. “Rub
bish,” said the uncompromising
colonel; “I have merely discovered that
compulsory attendance at your ser
mons is excellent punishment for
trivial offenses.”
FRIENDS OF THE HORSES.
Spiders Spin Their Webs in the Stalls
and Protect the Animal* from
Annoyili'K Insect*.
How many readers are aware of the
vtllue of a spider’s web in the right
place? The neat housekeeper would
ptefer other kinds of traps for ridding
her kitchen of flies and even a star
boarder might hold to the old-time
mosquito bar when he lays himself
down to sleep, but it is doubtful if
anything so cheap, so simple and at the
same time so effective has ever been
utilized for the comfort of horses in
a stable as the cozy parlor of the tiny
threadmaker. A reporter was stand
ing in front of Lloyd Grubbs’ livery
stable a few mornings ago when a
hostler trotted out Dr. Lawson’s ma
hogany bay, relates the Denver News.
Like most men who have long lived in
Texas, the scribe loves a good horse,
and the animal referred to has a pretty
build, a stylish step and claims to have
aristocratic blood in his veins. He had
been well groomed and his sleek coat
of kuiir, pretty head an*neck made a
picture, but in spite of fcis rich blood
and good looks he soonvccame rest
less. He squirmed anfl^switched,
stamped -and fretted, thotmi there
were very few Hies about hint, Mr.
Grubbs came out, fanned the pests oft',
aiter which the horse stood quietly
enough, but gazed longingly into the
stable. Half a dozen men were eying
the animal and all interpreted the ex
pression in the horse’s eyes and action
of his ears to mean he wanted to get
back into his stall. Mr. urubbs was
quick to speak. He first called atten
tion to the two long ranks of horses
standing in stalls on either side of
aisles that led entirely through the
building.
“Notice,” he said, “not a horse is
switching his tail, nor is there the
slightest noise, though on a wooden
floor, from stamping feet. You can
turn any of those horses out of the
I stable and they would break right
I through this crowd to get back. Why
, is it?”
If any of the others were prepared
to answer his conundrum they failed
to speak out.
“Look at those cobwebs,” Mr.
Grubbs proceeded. “For years after
I first went into the livery stable busi
ness I swept every stall fore and aft,
overhead and on the sides. I could not
tolerate spider webs, for I knew they
gathered dirt and looked so untidy.
An old Colorado miner dropped in here
one day just as he was dragging out
from under a pretty heavy jag. He
claimed to have been a hostler for
years on a stage line between Silver
Plume and Colorado Springs. For a
drink the old fellow' offered to tell me
how to rid my stable of flies and mos
quitoes. The proposition looked fishy,
but I knew just how badly he wanted
that drink, for I’ve been there myself.
‘I’ll go you, old man,’ was my answer,
so I gave him a big new dime. ‘Make
her fifteen,’ came back. I gave him
another nickel, but got between him
and the door, expecting him to dash
away with a laugh. ‘Let the spider
webs alone, and when they get pretty
thick about the upper part of the stalls
they will keep off flies, gnats and mos
quitoes.’ He was off before I had time
to think how his face looked—whether
he was trying to tell the truth or was
simply working me for that drink, but
I told the men about the stable that
we would try it. Within a few months
friendly spiders had filed preemptions
and finished up a pretty good job above
the stalls, and for years my stock has
never been harassed while in the slnll
i with flies, gnats or mosquitoes. You
see the hocks of the horses are not
swollen or their hoofs split from
pounding the hard floor with their feet,
nor do their eyes run water, as do the
eyes of all horses where gnats and
flies haunt them.”
There hung the dingy festoons, while
40 or 50 horses sleeping peacefully tes
tified to the truth of all that their
owner had said about the value of
spiders in a stable.
Accounted For.
Martha—That horrid Mr. Roaner
kissed me in the hall last night.
Constance—You don’t mean it! How
did it happen?
‘‘It was pitch dark in the hall—”
“Ah, I see. That accounts for it,
dear.”—Boston Transcript.
I believe that society women, and, for that matter,
other women, who possess even a small degree of tal
ent for the stage, and are compelled to earn their liv
ing, find in the actress’ profession their best opening.
Take the case of a young woman who came to
me the other day to find out what she could do to sup
port herself. She was unusually attractive in appear
ance, tall, graceful, wore her clothes well, and seemed
far above the average young person. She had not had
the slightest training in any business or profession.
She couldn’t cook, she couldn’t sew, she had never
trimmed a hat. She did not know how to paint, em
broider or write shorthand. Bookkeeping and typewriting had not been
considered in her education. IN UTTER HELPLESSNESS SHE
WAS THROWN UPON HER OWN RESOURCES.
I might have suggested a position as dressmaker’s model. While
putting on dresses and hats to show the clients, this young woman might
earn eight or ten dollars per week, and gradually become familiar with
the duties of a saleswoman. Perhaps in a year or two she might earn
$25 or $30 per week, in this work the utmost limit of ambition.
(f t L 1m » ,1 t-L < n /'K/M'rt ftm rf O fvn I I Of Of*
vv It VitV V/ tttvt null vt y WV.|/V/VI v VI tlvt M V't | 1 U1 V VI tv/viv VI IV v» v VV ^ VI * V V -
sonal appearance and intelligence, coupled with adaptability, would stand
her in good stead. Even if she started in the chorus, she would earn
twice what she would get in the beginning of any other career, and the
chance for advancement would be much more favorable than if she
started as a model.
The most important point in favor of the stage as a means of liveli
hood is found in the fact that for ordinary parts scarcely any training is
required. Is there any other line of employment where this is true?
Nine out of ten women in the theatrical companies have had no. training.
Their qualification lies in nature’s gifts. An attractive appearance, a
pleasing voice and an average amount of intelligence will enable them,
if they are lucky, to earn from the very beginning a fairly large salary.
Chorus girls have been heard of who have risen to high positions in a
company within a few weeks. Such cases, of course, are rare, but this
chance, this alluring promise of fame and fortune, is the irresistible at
traction of life behind the scenes.
Though they start without training, I am not saying that theatrical
people do not need to work. THE STAGE DEMANDS A LIFE OF
HARD WORK; but, as compared with the certainty of drudgery for
small recompense held out by other professions, its chances of compensa
tion are dazzling. Is it, then, any wonder that so many women, especially
those from the untrained ranks of society, should choose the stage, in
stead of less attractive and less remunerative employments?
ill II
MANUAL TRAINING.
A Blatter of Fnndnnientnl Impor«
tance In the Kdncatlon of
Our Children.
Conscientious, intelligent and ener
getic s.ction is the highest duty of
man. On’y in proportion as our
schools, from the kindergarten
through he university, enable their
students to net with conscience, with
intelligence, and with energy, should
they be judged efficient instruments
of education. The value of manual
training consists chiefly in its infl
ence as a most natural and helpful
exercise for the development of the
will, and not, as has been thought
by many, in its industrial significance
or in the appreciation it gives of
manual arts and lrbors. Every act
tends in increase oV r will-power, not
only in the direction of that act, but
also, if the act is consistent with our
general usefulness, in the direction of
our entire activity; and the voluntary
or involuntary obstruction of any im
pulse to act from its proper expres
sion tends to decrease our will power,
not only in the direction of that im
pulse, but also, if the impulse is con
sistent with out general usefulness,
in the direction of our entire activity.
Therefore, we can readily see the su
preme necessity of weakening by
lack of expression the harmful Im
pulses and of strengthening by every
possible expression the helpful im
pulses.
The part that manual training can
play in this purpose must not be un
derrated. A child, for instance, wants
to make a wood box, but is kept from
doing so by the untrained inability of
his hands to put the wish into action
and bring it to a successful realiza
tion. Now this forced obstruction of
the child’s impulse is mainly of his
will. Of course, the child’s power of
action is being exercised by the du
ties and occupations of his daily life
in the home, in the school, and on the
play-ground; but the educational im
portance of manual training receives
a unique emphasis because it makes
use of some of the child’s best im
pulses, and by a systematic training
renders the realization of these im
pulses direct and stimulating.
And it shall be said in this connec
tion that the product of manual labor
in the schools should be valuable in
itself, not because the end in view is
the product, but because the will oi
the child is best stimulated by the
making of such a product as he can
readily see is of practical value. Is it
not natural that the child should lose
interest in the simple folding of pa
per, when he might be enthusiastic
over the making of a table?
The ideal of manual training is
reached when the child does what
he wills, learns the importance of
making, the accomplishment agree
with the purpose, strengthens his
power of willing more and doing
more, appreciates the moral connec
tion between will and action, and
takes ever-increasing delight in the
realization of ennobling impulses.
EDUCATION IN THE SOUTH.
The Necessity of Education to the
Enjoyment of Hard-Earned
Prosperity.
There is no sort of doubt of the en
ergy with which the intelligent men
of the south are taking up the ques
tion of the extension and improve
ment of the schools of that section.
The amount of work that has been
done since the close of the civil war
and the amount of money that has
been expended are very great when
we take into consideration the diffi
culties with which the south has had
to contend. There is no chapter in
the history of the. country of which
we have occasion to be more proud
than that which recounts the rise of
the south from the desperate state in
which it was after the war. lint the
leaders of southern opinion have
come to the conclusion that the fruits
of the hard-earned prosperity the
south is now enjoying can not fully
be harvested unless education is
made very much more general and
much better. They are turning their
attention especially to tl e country
districts, which are still he most im
portant and in which the illiteracy
is the worst, and their movement de
rives particular life from the change
in the methods and aims of schooling
that has taken place in the last twen
ty years. The amount of unselfish
and faithful work now being done by
the teachers of the south in an intel
ligent and progressive manner is very
great, and it is constantly increasing
The situation is extremely hopeful,
and those who are laboring still fur
ther to improve it are entitled to
the respect and the aid of all intelli
gent Americans of whatever section.
—New York Times.
The ItlnlnK Generation.
We must educate the rising generar
tion. It is the highest duty and the
loftiest duty and the loftiest privil
ege. Let education be neglected and
all that we hold dear is lost; pursue
the policy of advanced education for
one generation and a new life will be
seen.—Henry Louis Smith.
Mont Valuable Discovery.
If in one sentence I were required
to give what I believe to be the most
valuable discovery of the educational
world up to this present, it would be
that poor teachers are worse than
no teachers.—Frof. Hoyt.
Employe* of the Treasury hi,
meat Are Better Paid Ilian in
Any Other.
The mat ter of salaries in the govern
mental departments in Washington is
one of great interest to the clerks.
Few of them, before appointment,
search the blue book to ascertain how
well or how poorrly each department is
provided for as regards salaries, says
the Washington Post.
The treasury department takes first
place among all the departments in re
gard to high salaries, although even in
that department some divisions are
meagerly provided for in the annual
appropriations in comparison with the
others. This, no doubt, is accounted
for by the nature of the work.
Perhaps the best paid office in
any of the departments is the di
vision of bookkeeping and warrant*,
secretary’s office. The chief is paid
$3,500, assistant clerk $2,400, one esti
mate and digest clerk $2,250, two prin
cipal bookkeepers $2,100 each, tei»
bookkeepers $2,000 each, ten clerks
$1,800 each, three clerks $1,600 each,
and other clerks $1,200 each.
It is difficult to determine which of
fice or department has the most poorly
paid clerks, but the offices in which
women are employed in great numbers
—such as some of the divisions of the*
treasurer’s, office—are not as choice, so
far as the salaries are concerned, a*
the offices in which men are almost ex
clusively employed. Though the treas
ury department has many high-salaried
positions, it also has some very low
ones, a civil service appointee some
times having to begin on a salary of
$720, or perhaps less.
The war department, taken as a.
whole, is about the best in Washington
for an original appointment, as the
lowest salar}- paid to a clerk in most
all the bureaus is $1,000 per annum. In
a reasonably short time, say six
months or a year, after appointment
to <1 $1,000 position, the clerk is pro
moted to $1,200; but tliere he stops,
for there are fewer positions above
the $1,200 grade in the war depart
ment than in any other. This condi
tion arose from the fact that n former
secretary of war recommended to con
gress that, most of the positions be
made $1,200 ones, and the recommenda
tion received the sanction of the sal
ary givers, and has remained a law
ever since.
Soon after a clerk receives his pro
motion in the war department to $l,2Cft
he realizes that hisehances for further
advancement are decidedly slim, and
;hat he cannot expect another promo
tion for at least ten, and, in most cases,
15 or 20 years; he begins to look
around in the treasury or elsewhero
to see what his chances arc for a t rans
fer.
There are more voluntary resigna
tions in the treasury department tbnix
in any other. This is owing to the laci
that there are several bure
afford a clerk an opportunit
a business th
on tlie outsido. The office of the comp
troller of the currency affords an ex
cellent opportunity for an employe to
Jearr. sonavthing about banking, if be
is studious and has the necessary am
bition. Many of tlie employes in this
department, have received good posi
tions as bank officials or officials is
trust companies.
FISHING FROM A JIBBOOM.
EicIIIiir Sport Knjnyril by Sallora
When C'atrhliiK the ItavarloM
llonito.
The bonito is one of the most rapa
cious as well as the gamest of salt wa
ter fish. He makes a hold and gallant
fight for his life. He delights in play
ing about the bows of a ship sailing
swiftly in the glorious trade winds.
He exults in the roar and the tumble
of the foam stirred up by the ship’s
sharp cut-water in the sparkling sea.
That is the time when Jack, intent
on a mess of fresh fish for dinner,
seeks to capture him with rvi<Ie>fackieV~•— y»^
which ordinarily consists,.«f* a large
hook baited with while rag and se
cured to a stout line. Sallying out
nimbly to the end of the flying jib
boom he sits astride it, and if the ship
is braced sharp up on the port tack,
as is the ease when outward bound
in the southeast trade, and the breeze
is blowing stiff. Jack has all he can
do to hang on when the ship ’scends
and pitches on the heaving bosom of
the sea.
Over goes the hook and line. The
lure skims in the water as the vessel
falls and rises. The bonitoes rush for
ward to investigate with wariness as
well as boldness. If Jack is lucky he
may hook an especially ravenous speci
uen. and if the fish happens to be a
big fellow he firikis it no easy task t»
hoist him op to *iis precarious perch
on the jibboom enS. No^is the battle
>ver when he has the fish in bjs^grasp,
says a w riter in Outing. It is tti&i, in
deed, that the real strugglg beginfu/or "
the bonito out of water is full of vig
orous fight, and of ten manages to get
away after tKe hook is extracted from
his muscular jaw, while the sailor,
hanging on by his eyelids and toenails,
seeks to take him to the security of
the deck.
Aa He Culled It.
“So you don’t mind my piano-play
ing, Mr. Skorcher,” remarked Miss
Nexdore. a
“Not at all,” replied Skorcher. “I
like it best when you’re coasting.’’
“When I’m coasting?”
“Yes, when you keep your feet off
the pedals.”—Catholic Standard.
Acquleaced.
"I am innocent, and I can prove it if
you will give me time,” whined the old
offender.
“Three years,” said the judge.—Bal
timore American.
JP