Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, June 11, 1898, Page 2

Pelee poloayelpaleleype elroy ou | THE TRAGEDY OF DERECK PACKENHAM. CHAPTER VIII, (Continued.) “I—wish to consult you—Mr. Clea- Yond.” The flush deepened now on Afra’s face. “We have talked matters over—Beta and I; and—I wish the de- bate to include our’—and she laughed slig “our colonial minister. It is 2 question of wi and means.” Her eyes were now fixed appealingly on the man who loved her, and who knew he loved her. “I can no longer accept Mr. Packenham’s have decided on that. My present in- however, is to ask him if, as ch and generous, he will allow me the interest of what was lost in the mine. Iam not sure how much it w: but if he will do that I will trouble him ro more.” “But, Mrs. Packenham, your hus- the word seemed to stick in his “Dereck Packenham does not He has no wish to be banc throat want to be free. rid ef you.” “He cannot expect me either to for- get or forgive those terrible days. I ean scarcely speak of them; but they have branded themselves upon my memory forever. They were days no woman could dismi: from her re- membrance. ling for him?’ the law- sely. ive me,” lent for a moment. fterwards continued, “Jack told me everything while I was with him during his illnes It is true that he mentioned the mine to—Mr. Packen- ham, but only to lament that he was not sufficiently rich to become its own- er, not dreaming for an instant that the person he addressed was any bet- fer off than himself. But then he found the matter taken up so ardently ~-you know Mr. enham’s enthusi- astic way—that brother made a bold bid for fortune. But for that, Jack and I should be living together in the old home. The offer dazz she replied, and “You see,” him, and IT was not at hand to advise; ; indeed, I heard nothing of the matter until it was all arranged.” “I did not know,” Cleavland marked. “However, in common jus i he nnot refuse your request. I think it was about £7,000,” Afra added. “I have tried to keep my ex- penses to the limit of what the inter- est on that sum would be, and have not taken a penny more. I thought I might consider that amount justly my own.” “IT will write to Dereeck,” id M Cleavlan and, shortly afterwards, he took his departure. ~~ CHAPTER IX, = “Mr. Cle. many came. land wrote that night; but days and no answer By mere accident he heard thar Mr. Packenham was so absorbed in fitting up a yacht, his latest toy, as to have no time for anything else. At last he had a communication from Beta Mansfield. passed, had a wild letter from her he wrote. “He tells her s heard of her request, and, ng it to be purely an invention your part, has not answered it. He appezls to her to save him from him- self—to rescue from ruin the man she has vowed to love and cherish—togeth- } er with a great deal more rubbish of the sume kind. She told me she had directed you to write to him, and re- peated her request to be allowed her are of the money which her brother lost in the mine, but took not the Slightest notice of what she called his i But we are watched, for spies are about the house d nd night. I myself post this note, fearing that the s nts m be tampered with. Pri lvise us to the best of | your abil He wrote back, saying that he would see them on the following day. But the fates were averse; for the first post in the morning brought him a letter from his eldest sister, which necessi- tated going to see her by the earli- est train he could eatch. That was on Satur nd the Sunday trains ran so awkwardly that he found he coulda not return to town until late at night. | there.” He spent his day. —in so moody aw. sister, a thoroughly | feel anxious about the health, and she determined to follow her brother to London the next day. It was still early in the forenoon when Mr. Cleavland reached the stu- dio, where Beta met him with uncon- cealed pleasure. “We are acting upen your advice, and will leave London at once; but we are surrounded by spie: Mr. Packen; ham does not seem to care how much money he lavishes upon the attainment of his end. It is dreadful!” “Poor Dereck!” ejaculated the law- yer. “Why do you pity him, Mr. Cleav- land? He is only reaping what he sowed.” ‘There is no more unpa wild and wet one y to make his 2ctical person, atable crop,” the gloomy reply ‘or one more ungrateful in the harvesting.” “I don't quite understand Afra,” Miss Mansfield remarked. “While she shrinks in horror from the thought of encountering her husband, yet she hes itates about leaving London. There is some afterthought in her mind.” ‘land was apparently study- ittern of the parquet floor. she thinks there is safety in the ¢' city,” he answered. “1 will not ask you to tell me where you intend to go. I presume you wili ac company Mrs. Packenbam?’ “I can’t. I will see her to her des- tination and then leave her, for I must | return ito my work.” bounty. Lj ; She exclaimed. ieee self propos state of his | Bal A knock at the street door startled them both. “How provoking that anyone should call just when I wanted a quiet talk with you!” Beta said, as she rose to see who was there. A meek-looking old woman, clad in faded but respectable garments, en- tered the studio. “Well, Mrs. Flack, what can I do for you this morning?’ Beta asked, in a kindly tone. “Can’t Lily come to me this afternoon?” “That's just want to know where she i: woman said, anxiously. “I don’t qnow, Mrs. Flack. She was here as usual on Saturday and gave | me a sitting, and I have not seen her since.” The old woman staggered against a chair. “Miss—M Tansfield! You—hav- en’t seen my Lily since Saturday?” she gasped. “No, Mrs. Flack. I expected her here s afternoon for a final sitting.” “But, M Mansfield, my Lily never came bacl faltered the old woman, : ‘inging her hands. “O, what am I to 0% Beta looked at the lawyer with horror | in her eyes. | ow can it mean?’ she asked. | “Lily Flack left me on Saturday even- ing, just after it became too dark to | paint any more. She was in very good | spirits, because Afra had given her a | cloak and a hat.” They are just about | ame height, and not unlike in fig- it, Miss Mansfield. 1 the old | | But Mr. Cleayland could give no ex- | planation. also its to Mr. Falkland in the Meuntj Manstielld con- tinned. erhaps Mrs. Falklard, who is always most kind to her husband's | | models, has taken her into the country | | for a Sunday outing. Have you been | there to inquire?” Mrs. Flack tearfully jhad come there fi but that she | | would go to Mr. Ikland’s at once; and, wiping her eyes, the cld woman toddied off. “It certainly seen:s very unaccounta- ble,” Beta remarked, with a slight | pucker on her brow. “Lily Flack thoroughly good girl, and I fond of her. She has a sweetheart, a young man in a grocery store, to whom | she is to be married in the summer. She is making up a little purse—poor cLild—for the occasion, and I keep her Savings-bank book, so that she might not be tempted to fritter her money away. Afra almost clothes her.” | Suddenly a light seemed to break in upon Mr. Cleavland’s mind. “She is much the same in figure as Packenham, you say?’ he asked. So much so that she can wear ‘s dresses without alteration.” And might easily be mistaken for , replied that she | her “Yes.” “Miss Mansfield, what if that man has plotted to carry off—his wife? What if— Gracious Heaven!” Beta started to her feet. fii “Oh, Mr. Cleavland, people don’t do such things nowadays! He dare not!” “It would be impossible for either of us to set a limit to his daring,” the law- yer replied. ‘“Packenham is not a man to be measured by ordinary rules. He imagines himself above all those con- ventions of law and order by whieh civilized people control their lives.” 2ut hé would not rush into crime?” “He would not consider it one to pos- sess himself of the wife who had de- fied him.” “Mr. Cleavland, you terrify me!” “Remember, it is only my surmise.” “But if it proves to be the correct one *” “Then Mrs. Packenham must seek the protection of the law.” “Divorce him? That she will never She must have a legal separation.” “Oh, it is all too dreadful! Really, Mr. Cleavland, I think what she her- ed would be the best step for her to take. “What v that?” manded, eagerly. “To return to Africa; join the Sisters of Spocrfontein, and be under my un- cle Dudley’s care. She would be fe the lawyer de- returned Mr. Ne hastily. “But what else remains for her? She | is kept in daily terror of her life. We sannot go outside the dcor without be- | ing dogged every step of the way, and | Afra has been utterly unnerved.” “You have decided upon leaving Lon- don? Leave no trace of your wherea- bow That is easily done.” « “Perbaps you will tell me the way?’ “If Mrs. Packenham will consent to go with my sister to her place in Glou- | gestershire,” Cleveland began, when another knock at the street door dis- turbed their conference. It proved to be Mrs. Flack, who was weeping bitterly. “Oh, Miss Mansfield,” the woman sobbed, “Mr. Falkland has not seen my girl since she left his place on Satur- day morning, saying that she was due with you in the afternoon; and here's a letier from her young man asking what has happened to prevent her from meeting him as she promised.” The poor old creature became almost inco- | ; herent with grief and terror. “Oh, | Lily! What’s become of my girl?’ she ; wailed. Mr. Cleavland retiected for a moment, and then said: “If you wish, I will go at once to Scotland Yard, and put the matter into ; , the hands of the police.” i “Perhaps it would be the best way,” Peta answered; and the laywer went | off at once, There were some features in the af- fair which seemed to point directly to | no,” Cleavlind, jly. This New-Woman | dressed in his wife's clothes. , vering between right Dereck’s implication in it. ‘What if he had formed a scheme for carrying his wife off and been foiled by the mistake of his assistants? He had prepared a yacht at a time when most people put their craft into safe-keeping for the winter. Rumors of the magnificence of its equipment had reached Mr. Cleayland, but at the time he had not given them a second thought. But now he imagined that he could trace the whole plot. Neverthe- Jess, he would have an expert's opin- ion. * * * * * it looks uncommonly like it,” said a tall, sleepy-eyed man who lad accompanied the lawyer back to the studio, where Mrs. Flack, in great tribulation, repeated her tale of woe. Mr. Cleavland said that it certainly looked as if there had been foul play. “It's a rum go,” the detective re- marked, musingly. “Seems the man wanted to run away with his own wife. We have had cases of the kind recent- business is at the bottom of it all.” be The lawyer hastened to explain that there was nothing of the kind in Mrs. Packenham’s case. “Well, sir,” added the detective, who seemed a good-natured though some- what stupid man, “I'll get onthe track if I can, and send you any news that | reaches me. I mayn’t have miuch to tell for a day or two.” Mr. Cleawland hoped that their sus- pense would not last so long. “Well, you see, my opinion is that the j dress, and the similarity of figure com- pleted the mistake.” “I believe that you are right. But what are we to do in the future? Lam sure this will not be his last attempt to abduct her.” “She must place herself under the protection of the law,” Mr. Cleavland replied, his eyes fixed upon the floor. “I am told that she cannot divorce him,” said Beta, F “T fear not.” “IT don't think she would try, even it she could,” Miss Mansfield added. “Perhaps not,” the lawyer replied, vaguely. “She has spoken to me more than once about returning to A‘rica. Indeed, she has written to Uncle Dudley! Ver- | haps it would be the best thing she could do.” Mr. Cleayland did not answer. * * * * * When back in his chamber there was the old conflict to be fought anew. Cleavland tried hard to intrest himslf in the boundary qeustion, read his brief over more than once, and found his knowledge of the subject was rath- ;er less on the second perusal than it ‘had been at first. Impatiently he thrust the sheafs of paper aside. Why was he ino longer his own master? Why did he suffer extraneous thoughts to ob- | tain the upper hand? | He recalled the first meeting with | Mrs. Packenham in the dingy-looking ‘lodging house. He remembered that | one lightning-swift glance of the eyes which revealed so much of the ardent | i i gentleman wasn’t in the matter, other- | nature that he had studied for all these | Wise there wouldn’t have been the mis- _ take, you see. He'd have known better than to have carried off a poor girl real lady, sir—what does she mean to do?” | “Ske is thinking of leaving London,” | s the reply. | I would advise her to do so at | ence,” said the detective. “If her hus- band has made a mistake—and it looks very like it—he’ll be wild to put him- | self right. Get her away, sir.” H * * * * * | Ww: Mr. Cleavland was Surprised to find | how readily his sister agreed to take Mrs. Packenham under her protection. “Of course she can come home with me; but not just once,” she told him. She can stay the Majestic Hv- | tel while I am detained in town. She | | will be perfectly safe there, with no fear of spies;’ and she laughed. “Be- | sides, the change will be good for her | after all this worry. I'll fetch her at once.” i] ‘The lawyer returned to his chambers with his mind somewhat at rest. Afra | v safe for the present, and the con- sciousness of her security lightened the | burden at his heart. But there was an- other side to it. When he had seen her | safely through this ¢ he must meet her no mere. There should be no wa- nd wrong, no further dallying with what he felt the most terrible temptation of his life. ; He had received an invitation from his sister to join her and Mrs, Packen- ham at dinner at the Royal Majestic Hotel; bat Mr. Cleavland telegraphed an apology. ‘“J'0o busy,” he briefly wired, It was hard to follow the right path— he was learning how ha and the man’s heart was in revolt against will. Yet he had reason to be sat with himself as he doggedly set self to master the facts of the case be- fore him—a mere question of boundary rights, Cry and uninteresting at the best. i CHAPTER X. “Yes, sir—we are right. The girl was hustled into a carriage just as she came out into the street at the top of that lit- tle place. Our men got hold of a leat- er hangin’ round the door of a pub that is a bit lower down the street, who saw it happen, but thought he had no busi- ness to meddle in it. He says a shawl or cloak was thrown over her head, and she was slipped into a car that was waiting clese by. There were two men, both short, seafaring-looking chaps, so he said. My idea is this—the ; gentleman had his yacht down-river somewhere, and I’m on the track of a strange craft that was seen off, Black- wall one day last week. He didn’t move in the abduction himself, but sent two ef his men to capture the lady. That's how the mistake came about. He was waiting somewhere—maybe on board the yacht, or, more probably, at the port the sel was making for. If he had been on board, it’s not likely he’d re taken the wrong young wo- mana y—now is it?” Mr. Cleavland nodded. “I dare say ight,” he replied. een M sfield, who’s very about the young women—t think unnecessarily,” the detective con- tinued. “She'll be sent back, possibly Not yet; but she is where no harm can come to her,” Mr. Cleavland re- plied. “She will leave in a day or two.” The man rubbed his ehin thoughtful- ly. “Going out of the country, sir?” “No—but to a place of perfect safe- ty" “I'd rather hear you say she was go ing away altogether. Believe me, Mr. Cleavland, we have not heard the end of this.” It was with a curious sensation that the lawyer crossed the threshold of -the studio, where he was hardly likely to see Afra again. It was as the bitter- ness of death to him to look around and know she was no longer resident there. He was not aware that Miss Mansfield was folding a piece of pink paper in her hand and looking at him with wondering eyes. “This telegram has relieved me,” Be- ta said, when she had compelled him | to attend to her. “Nevertheless, I shall | feel very anxious until I see Lily back here safe and sound.” Mechanically Mr. Cleavland took the paper from Miss Mansfield’s hand and read: “Dieppe. Was brought here by mis- take. Am well. Will return by to- night’s boat. —Lily.” “I thought so,” the lawyer remarkea. “Dereck has made his grand coup, and failed, thanks to Mrs. Packenham’s generosity to the girl. I dare say she was pointed out to the men in that Now, the | one to hear, j over. himself. | Packenh: years. The happiest, the best years of his life. “Afra”’—and he uttered her name aloud; “why not? There was no But at the same moment the door flew open and Dereck Packen- ham strode across the threshold. “This is your doing!” he exclaimed, furiously. 5 “My doing?’ For the moment Mr. Cleavland had no further words at command, “Yes, your doing—yours! You have tricked, supplanted, robbed me! Where have you hidden her?” The glaring eyes scanned the apart- ment as if seeking traces of her pres- ence. “Packenham, I do rot understand you,” Cleavland remarked at last. “Do you want me to tell you that you lie?” “I have no wish to be insulted by a n who was once my friend.” “I trusted you as one, but you be- trayed my trust.” “I never wronged you,” Cleavland returned, hotly. “You blame me for what was altogether your own fault— your own doing.” “Where is my wife?’ demanded Der- eck. “I do not know, although I am aware that she s left London.” “You have concealed her somewhere.” “I have not--that is all I have to say to you.” “I tell you that I do not believe you. I demand her address.” “Even if you had any right to it, I ‘could not tell you what I do not know,” replied, keeping a guard All I do is that she is not in London. I also know that you haye brought yourself within the pale of the law, and that the police are look- ing for you.” Mr. Packenham recoiled. “I was not in it,” he protested, “and took no part—” Ixcept inciting your hirelings to ab- duct a lady. Is not that an indictable crime?” “The lady was my own wife.” “Yes, but one who, through her Irw- er, had applied to you for a separate maintenance, and had absolutely re- fused to cohabit with yom” “No matter—she is my wife.” “rhe law protects her: Besides, she ean show that you abandoned her— cast her off.” “You it was who tricked me! You planned the whole business?” “I was out of town when it occurred, and heard nothing of it until it was all over. I hope the unfortirate’ girl, whom your emissaries mistook for Mrs. am, has not suffered at your Cleayland hands?” “The girl is safe—I have sent hi | home. I tell you that I want my wife!” “Then I tell you in return, that vou will never see her again if she-cam help it. By this last action you have: lost all chance of ever winning back what you so recklessly threw aw: ay!” “Beg pardon, gentlemen,” a@ new yoice struck in; “I have a little busi- ness to transact with one of you.” With mingled sensations Mr. Cleav- land saw that his friend from Scotland yard was by the door, and t anoth- er stolid-looking person was with him. “This is Mr. Dereck Packenham, I believe? Yes? Well, then, sir, I will trouble you to come along with me.” The lawyer was amazed. He saw Packenham turn on the detective with one hand thrust rapidly to his hip;then heard the latter say— “Now, now, gently, Mr: Packenham —no violence, if you please” A sharp “ping” was heard, and then the room became filled with smoke. * * = » * “Oh! So you have heard that silly story about my nephew? ft is all an exaggeration!” Thus spoke Lady Gro- by at one of her pleasant dinner par- ties. “Only a boyish freak, nothing more, , Well, yes—he was rather badly hurt. He is very reekless—he always. was. He was trying to explain to Mr. Cleayland, one of his best and most in-~ timate friends, a new invention—a snap-shot revolver he had purchased in America. The thing went off in his hard; but didu’t do him much harm. However, as he was not in the best of health at the time, he has been ill, and is now ordered to take a long sea voy- age. It is very annoying, as the sea- son will soon begin, and I was most arxious to see him settled in London. His wife, too—well, she is very charm- ing—cousin of the Altamonts, you know! But he has decided upon taking this long sea-trip, so that many little functions must be postponed.” One of the ladies remarked that she had not heard of Dereck’s marriage. “He has been married for some years,” Lady Groby assured her—“to a very gifted woman. But when one is afflicted with what, perhaps, might be termed “wandering fever,” it is dreado- fully hard to get a person to settle down, you know.” Ther her ladyship skilfully led the conversation into another channel, «To be Continued.) .MATTERS OF FARM AND GARDEN. INTEREST TO AGRICULTURISTS. Some Up-to-Date Hints About Cul- uvation of the Soil and Yields ‘Thereof—Horticulture, Viticulture and Floriculture. Second Crop Seed Potatoes. For some years now the subject of second erop seed potatoes has been agitating the potato growers. A good many agriculturists about came to the conclusion that there must be some- thing in the claim that seed from sec- ond crop potatoes was of more value than that from the first crop. This belief was particularly advantageous to the southern potato growers. In the north the season is too short to make it possible to grow one crop for commerce and another for seed. This threw the production of second crop seed potatoes into the south, where the season is long enough to make it Possible to plant a second crop of po- tatoes and bring them to a degree of maturity that would make them pos- sible for seed. It should be said that these second crop potatoes were not generally well matured at time of harvest and this was believed to be an advantage. It is known that many kinds of plants produce seeds that can be used for planting long before they are mature. Green peas, at the time they are on the market as table deli- cacies, will grow if planted. Potatoes not fully matured retain their plump- ness better than mature potatoes, and this, says Mr. Read of Wisconsin, is the reason they produce, under some conditions, better crops than mature Potatoes. They are really brought into competition with potatoes that have been poorly kept all winter, that have been allowed to sprout one or more times and have thus become soft and wrinkly. The Arkansas experiment station has taken up the question and has for a number of years been making care- ful comparisons between crops grown from good first crop northern seed and second crop seed. The result has been contrary to what they expected. They found that in nearly every case the northern grown seed gave the best results. In a large number of experi- ments there was only one case where the second crop potatoes did better than the first crop seed. In all their tests during 1894 there was a differ- ence of twenty bushels per acre in marketable potatoes in favor of the northern grown seed. During 1895 there was a difference of thirteen bushels per acre in favor of the north- ern grown seed. During 1896 there was a difference of more than seven bushels per acre im favor of the north- ern grown seed. On the other hand the number of unmarketable potatoes was much greater from the second crop seed. The northern growa, or first crop seed, gave much earlier har- vests—that fs, came to maturity be- fore those from the second erop seed. Thus, during the tests of 1894 only 12.6 per cent of the potatoes from northern grown: seed were culls, while of the potatoes grown from second erop seed 23.5 were culls. We are glad to be confirmed im our belief that mature seed is best when it has been rightly kept.. It is in ac- cordance with all reason, as we know that generally offsprings from imma- ture parents have not the qualities that have the offsprings of mature parents. Potatoes for seed: must be carefully kept, either in pits. in the ground or in cooli cellars or storage rooms. There should not be enough: heat present to start.a growth. Diseases of the Tomato, Fortunately the tomato: is, not sub- dect to many diseases, that is, in our gardens. We do not have to fight so. hard to raise aytomato crop as we do to raise some other kinds of fruit and vegetables. The tomato rot is. the one disease that troubles us the most, but usually this is not. so destructive that one considers it m great factor. Nev- ertheless we have known of eases where people lost their entire crops. from rot and lost titem year after year: This would seem to indicate that the ground on whicln the first plamts are grown each year is infected with the fungus which perpetuates itself from year to year. This is not givem as a fixed opinion, but is merely a sugges- tiom. Professor Bailey says that this rot cam be kept im check by spraying with bordeaux mixture. This is some- what difficult to do on most fields for the reasom that the’ vines run together to such am extent and are so thiekly massed that it is all but impossible to make an effective application of the spray. Im sueh cases staking may be used, trimming the vines to an extent that will admit of the free drenching of all parts by the liquid. It is the tes- timony of some growers that vines trained to grow up to a trellis and kept pruned to one stem are affected less than| vines treated in any other way. This may be beeause the vines dry out quicker after a wetting and consequently do not allow conditions to remain favorable to the development of rot spores. For the same reason straw placed under the vines seem to encourage the rot. We do not believe it will be necessary to go to the trouble of staking and training up vines un- less the rot has become very bad, for the work must necessarily be very ex- pensive with large growers. The rot affects most the highly developed ya- rieties, and the plum and cherry to- matoes are affected but little, though we have noticed that plum tomatoes will rot when allowed to lie on the ground during a wet time. This may be due, however, to another variety of fungus. ; Another blight attacks tomato plants in the greenhouse in the early age of the plants. Of this blight little seems \ | January, 1898, the number ' $40,000, a decrease of 100,841. to be known. It has the appearance! of light yellow spots on the leaves, and! these spots enlarge till they destroy the value of the plant, even if it does not kill them. The only remedies are to destroy all infected plants and put new soil in the green house at least once a year. Another blight exists mostly in the South. It is not believed that it will become spread over the north, though it is possible that it may make inroads in states north of the Ohio. It occurs in field crops and is very destructive. Spraying the plants with Bordeaux mixture is about the only remedy, but all old plants and field rubbish should be burned as soon as dry enough. This blight is supposed to be the same that affects melons, squashes and potatoes, and for this reason these four crops should not foll;w each other on the same land. Oat Crop of 1897. The following table from the reports of the department of agriculture shows the quantity of oats raised last year: Bushels. DARING, 60. 0'a.0 ons + 4,139,740 New Hampshire . 1,058,260 Vermont . . 3,497,0T3 Massachusetts 488,763 Rhode Island .. . 118,080 Connecticut . 608,970 New York . 45,953,035, New Jersey . 2,555,650" Pennsylvania . 31,842,538) Delaware ........ 411,520° Maryland .. 1,938,192. Virginia ... 5,233,002. North Carolina . 5,820,581 South Carolina . 3,830,500) Georgia ......... 5,517,540 Florida .... 395.811 Alabama . « 3,929:835) Mississippi . 1,670,620 Louisiana oes 665,331 Texas .. 16,311,150" Arkansas 5,284,821 Tennessee . veces 3,842,890 West Virginia 3,142,420 Kentucky ..... 7,841,916 Ohio ... 29,907,392 Michigan . 22,940,450 Indiana . 33,706,582 Illinois . 92,798,496 Wisconsin 62,125,310 Minnesota .... « 41,147,002 Towa ........ -103,721,100 Missouri .. - 22,078,166 Kansas . + 38,680,080 Nebraska . « 51,731,095 South Dakota + 13,647,656 North Dakota - 11,397,144 Montana . 2,589,888 Wyoming . . 479,255 Colorado . ++ 2,968,540 New Mexico 258,795, Utah ass3 . 838,355 Idaho . - 1,046,674 Washington --- 3,822,528 Oregon ... - 5,755,776. California - 1,029,114 Total ........2..0+0260--698.767,809 The Tulip Tree—At a meeting in Illinois Professor Burrill delivered an interesting lecture on the tulip tree, which he said was one of the most wonderful of the American trees, reaching often to a height of 150 feet and sometimes even to a height of 190 feet. It frequently rises for 80 feet without a limb. The tree belongs to the family of Tulipera, and is related to the little wind-flower and to some other of our common plants humble in statue. Back in prehistoric times all of these find a common parent. It has taken immense lapses of time for the original types to develop into forms so far removed from each other as the giant tulip tree and the humble anemone. Whither Does It Tend?—The num- ber of milk cows in the United States on the first day of January, 1897, was 15,940,841, while on the first day of was 15,- This must not be taken as proof that the business of dairying is declining. There is a great movement on foot to do the same work with fewer cows. If five millions more could be killed off it would be a good thing for American dairymen, for the same amount of butter could be produced from ten million of cows that we now get from fifteen millions, if the cows were even fairly good animals for dairy purposes, Watch the Market.—The importanee of striving to please customers is not always fully realized by those market- img fruit. The consumer’s wants may- not coincide with your views of what: they should be, but when he is satis-. fied you not only make a sale but gain: a permanent customer. Keep in close. touch with the markets, visiting them. often to find out what people really want and pay the most for. The pro~ ducer, retailer and consumer should, as far as possible, understand and'trust each other, remembering that in union there is strength, and each needs the others’ assistance.— Oregon Station Bulletin. The Compost Heap.—Without dowbdt much valuable fertility is lost to farms by the owner mot having a compest heap. It is necessary to save: the veg- etable manure im a moist state. When the moisture @ries out of manure or grass or leaves or weeds the fertility largely departs. For this reason an earth closet proves effeetive, but it en- tirely destroys the fertility im the ac- cumulations. The moisture escapes and takes away all but the ash, which remains in the form of a fine dust. Th compost heap shovld be in a pla where all vegetable refuse can be thrown. If a poultry house is proper! structed there will be no bed SDR and no dampness. Sunlight and free air dry up all droppings, so that am- monia is never noticed. Halt a loaf is sometimes better no chance to loaf at all. a