text: g @ OOk ¥ B e ‘M‘uﬂm o 0 " . - 4 /',f-,! B '“ﬂ‘r " i RSJ& .. == 4 i rl{,, b iL‘H’ [ j ‘7‘ L‘“ S ./ ; I 8 £ - ,"\- = e L i N LD e : ¥y .: e "7 WK e {,_»/ ~.‘ ‘\\'\'\ e i M'-;;\,, 8 { ey Rr! . ‘ . < "E=O RN LR el bt nound Dairy Barns. The Illinois Agricultural Experiment Gtation has sent to press a bulletin in which the economy of the round dalry varn is discussed at considerable jjzth Comparison of the cost of sund dairy barns is discussed at con siderable length. Comparisons of the ( o 7 round barns with rectangular ones, including the amount and cost of material, the cost of construction, the amount of stock that can be shel iered, the convenience in storing, han dling, and distributing the feed, etc, are brought out very clearly. The bulletins include cuts and plans of several round barns in actual use, an ltemized statement of the cost of a ¢O-foot round barm, and cuts showing now the round barn at the agricultural college was built, etc. The conclusions arrived at by the author of the bulletin are that the round barn has a great advantage over a rectangular barn In convenlence, strength and cheapness. it is found that the round barn is more convenient because of the com nactness wtih which it is built and the ease of getting the feed to the cows. Investigations show that the round harn costs from 34 to 58 per cent less than the rectangular barn containing the same amount of space and built of the same grade of material. pasienrizing Milk at Home. 1f milk is not drawn under the most «qnitary conditions it is not advisable to feed it to children without being BEST TIME TO CUT HAY. B(6 A 4 S e i Eg%%’. ) %’ AN LT N B o 8 B BV 8 B (0 i @\m\ o eBiB o 1 i 6 i e o viWA Wl B o ol Rpe e [t A ploß By e b 8 Fﬁ? A'%lk o &ob oo o eB i A, ViR Y 1l e UKB a 1 v e G o e&7 al AP =LA LY RV F A R g i A\ / " 51 Se%] VX B ot P NS VN D uy SAE/d Taie AE e E -V i 118 2 1 T W»ﬁ‘_ [ NN ﬁi 2O L B BB b //’ /,,,/, —L= A AVEL S R : // // eoVeA IVe N ¥ jef/ A S 1L 5 LT S T 2 e 1 M BR e K A R - R P cuT JUNEZC R B - 2N U oL Yid AOl 8 X [/ \ )o e BWI YAI TS geSN S Sl L‘“ﬁ; FuLL Bosson :' —_- Ret O ’Jé - ey fat SETORMED 2 W DOUGH "l Gl IR ST A, AP I O PR, ST ] -—l‘ FULLY RIPE -"@ eAN eN Il e ee s e 'o cet the best guality of hay the timothy plants require to be cut when in full bloom. In an experiment made by Prof. Waters of Missouri racks were filled with hay cut in different stages of ripeness. As shown In the Mllustration, all the early-cut hay was eaten before the late-cut was touched. The largest yleld of dry matter was obtained by cutting at the dough stage. pasteurized. It is very easy to ac complish this wtihout any speclal ap pardatus. Put the milk in a milk bottle. Take tin ple plate and punch the bottom full of holes. Turn this upside down in the bottom of the kettle and set the bottle on it. This will prevent bump ing when the water is heated. Punch a hole through a piece of cardboard and Insert in the top of the bottle. Through this hole suspend a ‘thermometer. A good thermometer with the scale etched on the glass should be used. Heat the water until the thermometer registers 155 de srees The bottle should be then removed and allowed to stand for twenty or thirty minutes. Cover the bottles with .-.;: \ % / [ .. == 555‘?;1"%;-»*-%. = }“;— :i”“—" _s_?f—_‘?'i = s e e e i;“:'f?g-_: -—..—:“-‘:—..—i:i e e  After twenty or thirty minutes cool the milk as quickly as possible by setting it in cold water. Serviceable Draft Horse. A heavy draft horse should be long ribbed. If a horse is short-ribbed he is light in his middle and nearly al ways a poor feeder. His stomach is foo small to contain enough feed to ferve him from one meal to another. When put into hard work he gener ally has a fagged-out appearance. A light-centered horse seldom weighs well, and weight in a draft horse, if it comes from bone, sinew and muscle, goesia long way toward determining his commercial: value. Three Kinds of Cormns. Three kinds of corns to which horses are subject are generally recognized: The dry, moist and suppurating. The dry corn is recognized by the blood- Stained horn and is not attended with eXcessive inflammation. Moist corns are recognized by the large amount of inflammation, shown by the fluid ac tumulating in the region of the corn. Suppurating corns are the molst corns which have become infected wtih pus germs, HHural 'Phone in the South. Merchants in the South have awak ‘ied to the value of rural telephone lines, and are seeking to develop them, with a view to increasing their trade among the rural populatior. In cer tain sections they have made large contributions to aid the farmers in building their lines. Collapsible Chicken Coop. The average chicken coop made of a soap box or some other small box is not always convenient for carrying arcund, and use in different places. An A-shaped coop is little better than an ordinary Dbox. The accompanying sketch, says a Georgia writer in Popu lar Mechanics, shows a collapsible A shaped coop that can be folded and stored away or carried set up for use anywhere. The main frame is made in four E]“ q) parts and joined together with hinges as shown in Figure 1. The frame can be covered with wire netting or boards on top part with netting on the ends. The hinged frames provide a way to open either end. A small hook and eye sholud be provided at each end to hold the parts in place. Alfalfa Needs Foed. It is important to know that there is little difference between successful al falfa growing and the successful grow ing of other crops. Poor farming never brings big crops, nor will poor land produce as big yields as the more fer- tile. Failure to restore to the soil the necessary elements of which it has been robbed means the same in New York, Kansas, Virginia or anywhere else. Every farm plant, to prosper, must find in the soil, readily available, the elements needed for its develop ment. If a farmer finds the soil lack ing in elements needed for certain crops he should either supply the de ficiency or not attempt their raising. This is true of corn or wheat, cotton or tobacco, no less than alfalfa. Weight of 2 Quart of Feed. According to figures furmished by the Connecticut Experiment Station, the weight of one quart of feed is as follows: Pounds. €otton-seed meal ... ........ 0. ... 05D Linseed meal, old process ri........ 81 Glutenameal ... . .. e Laiaes g Wheat Dran, cearse . ... ... .u..2:...0b Wheat middlings, coarse ..........0.8 Wheat middlings, fitie [ o, .na oAk Mixed wheat feed .......co. v i 900 Gornimeal ... a 0 v il @S s s s et il Rye hran ... o i . e 0006 To Control Gray Rot. o For the prevention of gray rot of grapes one investigator recommends a treatment which he claims is very sim ple and efficient. This consists of thin ning the leaves on the north side of the vines and spraying with Bordeaux mixture, to which soap is added to make it more adherent. The treatment should be made about July 25, or at the stage when the grapes have just about reached their full size. 1f the fungi cide is thoroughly applied at this time no further trouble imay be anticipated from this disease. Wide Wagon Tires. As to the desirability of the use of the wide tires there can be no ques tien. The most casual observation will suffice to convince any one of the damage which a heavily laden wagon, equipped with the ordinary sharp, rounded, narrow tires, will produce on any road. There is also another, and perhaps even greater advantage to be gained by the use of the wide tires— viz., the increased hauling capacity attained. Effectual Against Mildew. Potassium sulphide (liver of sul phur), three ounces in ten gallons of water. This solutions is valuable for the gooweberry and other powdery mil dews, for which it seems even more effectual than Bordeaux mixture, al though its effects are less lasting. It does not discolor the fruit and is quite harmless. Collecting Nitrogen From the Air. Nitrogen is centained in great quan tities in the air above us, but it can not be purchased and used with profit in farming, except under special con ditions. Clover and other leguminous plants can draw all they require from the atmosphere by means of bacteria that live on their roots. , N [ [ [E=Eh RN “BA 4 ),/ s'\\\ Sy : /%. \" "‘, w. AR/ R B B B D : '{lu' g A Y NPT —_— Y T DIVINE FORGIVENESS. Rev. Charles A. Riley. “I have blotted out, as a thick cloud, thy transgressions, and as a cloud, thy sins.”—lsa. 44:22. Our best approach to this subject is by way of inquiry into the results of sin. There are two penalties attached to sin, the outward and the inward. One looks to the extermal conse quences; the other points to the in ward feelings and affections. One re fers to the visible punishment, the pain and suffering that is felt; the other has to do with the guilty con science, the closed heart of God and the separaticn from Him. External penalty embraces all the evil conse: quences that are left behind and make themselves felt in the life; internal or subjective penalty is the alienation of God’s affection, a disturbance of the personal relation between God and man. God is grieved and righteously angry with sin and He withdraws His approval. Now, forgiveness is the restoration of this broken personal re lation. We are apt to fall into mistaken no tions regarding the consequences of sin, and to grieve more over the pun ishment than over the loss of God’s approval. Yet the worst penalty of sin is to be separated from God by our own sinful desires and actions. To be out of harmony with God is really the death of deaths. To be an agent in the reversion of the moral order of the universe is to be against God and to be separated from Him. This is a terrible status as between Creator and created. Yet it surely follows sin. “Your sins have separated be tween you and your God.” Children have keener eyes and truer hearts than we have. What is it that makes the child’'s face fall and tears come to the eyes? lls it the fear of punishment or the look of trouble in the father’s -face? The child sees the real penalty, dreads the father’s closed heart. The slave would fear the rod alone; the child dreads the unhappy relation with its father, counts a mo ment’s chastisement small beside an indefinite period of offended, with drawn love. The outward conse quences of sin may be terrible in which no trace of the divine approval can be found. Recall also the danger, both for this life and the life to come, of alienation from God. The internal penalty is the worst. Now, which of these penalties does forgiveness do away with? Not the external, for the sufferings in most cases remain. David was forgiven, but that did not exempt him from punishment. ‘“Whatsoever a man sow eth, that shall he also reap.” He will reap it in his memory, in his con science, in his weakness of will, often in his worldly position, in his reputa tion, sometimes in his health and in many other ways. To say that God cannot remove these consequences would be an arbitrary statement. With out a doubt, God sometimes removes the penal consequences of sin. But while such remission may accompany forgiveness, it is, not at all, an essen tial element therein. Forgiveness is the undisturbed communication of the love of God to sinful men; it restores the offender to his former position of acceptance and favor. Legal pardon contains but a poor analogy to this inward experience. The civil magistrate may grant a par don, but not forgiveness. He is not required to exercise a personal rela tion with an offender. The Bible in no instance uses legal analogy in speaking of the Divine forgiveness. It cannot be the mere remission of the penal results of sin. Deeper than that we must lecok. What, again, is the real penalty? As we have reasoned, it is the closing of the heart. Then the real forgiveness is taking the wan derer back again to the heart. In oiher words, it is a father’s for giveness. ‘“‘Your heavenly Father will forgive you your trespasses.” In all the passages of scripture that treat of forgiveness it is either spoken of as the Father’s forgiveness, or, if these words are not used, then the fact for which fatherhcod stands, namely, the love of God, is emphasized. Now a father closes his heart against and sternly holds an offending child aloof, waiting for an expression of sor row. Lost without the father’s love and earnestly desiring to regain it, the child expresses sorrow. Forgive ness is complete when the father says, “Come, you are my child again.” But if one trace of disapproval remains or one fragment of the fault stands like the timbers of a dam to block the stream, the child is not forgiven. He is forgiven when the last thin film of mist. between -him rand his father has ~faded -away.: And the -Heavenly Father seals His pardon-to use when He declares, “I have blotted out like a thick cloud thy sins.” In the para ble of the prodigal son we read: “And he fell on his neck and kissed him.” Forgiveness is the opan heart of God teceiving the returning prodigal. SERMONETTES. A jellyfish has no collisions. No man is brave until he has faced ridicule. The kingdom waits for everyday kindness and justice. Many preachers would reform-if sen tenced to read their own sermons. There are toc many who would HYMNS AND THEIR AUTHORS FAITH AND DUTY. By Norman MacLeod. NSNS NSNS [One who has often heard great congre gations of men sing this song wong-;rs why it is found in so few of t@ great hymnals. Written by an active popular preacher, it may perhaps lack that fin ished polish ang literary grace that be longs to some, but it makes up for any such lack with a force and vigor of its own and a message that will sing itself helpfully over and over to those who catch its refrain. It is a goed hymn to add to that altogether too small collection of suitable hymns for men. Norman Mac- Leod (1812-1872) was a Scotch divine, the author of “A Highland Parish” and other stories.] Courage, brother! do not stumble, Though thy path be dark as night; There’s a star to guide the humble, Trust in God, and do the right. Though the road be long and dreary, And the end be out of sight, Tread it bravely, strong or weary, Trust in God, and do the right. Perish policy and cunning, Perish all that fears the light, Whether losing, whether winning, Trust in God, and do the right. Shun all forms of guilty passion, Fiends can look like angels bright; Heed no custom, school, or fashion, Trust in God, and do the right. Some will hate thee, some will love thee, Some will flatter, some will slight; Cease from man, and look above thee, Trust in God, and do the right. Simple rule and safest guiding, Inward peace and shining light, Star upon our path abiding, Trust in God, and do the right. ee e e e rather go over the falls than not seem to be in the swim. The first thing some folks will want to do in heaven will be to elect a new sev of officers. Many a conscience that works well at the second person notch gets out of gear at the first person singular. It seems to make some folks won derfully comfortable to tell the Lord just what they think of one another. The minister who speaks from a monk’s experience would preach a good deal better from a course as a merchant. No man will have much trouble with his faith if he reserves its problems for the time left over ailer living its precepts. Some theology seems to hold that God gave man a reason and then a revelation so that one might keep up a fight with the other. DON’TS FOR CHURCHMEN. Don’t miss doing great good by re fusing to do little kindnesses. Don’t fail to note that a loose tongue often indicates a tight fist. Don’t forget that character is seen in motives, but it never stays there. Don’'t forget that the self-satisfied soul may come far short of satisfying God. Don’t overlook the fact that no man is old enough to be another man’s con science. Don’t expect to really love men un less you are making it possible to live with them. Don’t become a twisted sign on the Zion road hy making yourself a see-me suffer saint. Don’t forget that you are not really trusting Providence when you let your muscles get flabby. Don’t fail to learn that without dreams and visions this world knows nothing real or worth while. Don’t overlook the fact that no one can long be content to measure his possessions by the poverty of other people. Don’t make the mistake of thinking that the Almighty has destined you to be happy at the price of another’s misery. Engine Emulates Crab. Naturally you look for go-headed ness in everything new these progres sive days, but here is a great locomo tive works turning out engines that run backward. The driver of this lat est space devourer, however, looks for ward, with a clearer view of the track than any “eagle eye” on the usual type of engine. The new engines, oil burners, have been built for the Southern Pacific and run cab first, the smokestack bringing up the rear, says the Pittsburg Press. Back of the smoke box is the tender. The engines are equipped with two sets of eight-wheel trucks, with the usual small wheels in front and be hind the drivers. In the backward-running engine the cab is eniered through side doors by iron ladders and from the height ot his seat the engineer has an unob structed view of the track. The type is the result of experience gained in operating through tunneis and snow sheds. With ithe old type the smoke and oil fumes were forced down upon the crew, shutting off the view and increasing the danger of coilision. This is impossible in tke backward running engine. The Silks of Samarkand. The silks and velvets of Samarkand, long famous for the rainbow blending of their colors, have a season, exactly like fruits or garden truck, and can only be purchased at that particular time of the year. When the worms are ready for spinning they are all brought to the silk bazaar and sold. The silk is then spun and dyed, and all that is not used in the maker’s family is ex ported in the form of cloth. Thus, un less you happen to be in Samarkanc during the season, it is all but impos sible to find any of the native silk for sale except in the form of ready made khalats, which are a sort of glorified dressing gown.—E. A. Powell in Every body’s. e. | :;:{"\i r{/ . / ‘ C Black Hawk. “It is one of the most pathetic horse gtories of the war,” declared the colo nel. Then, when the veterans of the blue pressed him, the old Confederate soldier closed his eyes and began to tell of the incident he referred to, which happened at the Battle of Shi loh. “General William B. Bate, who died a TUnited States Senator from Tennessee, was colonel of the Second Tennessee. He had two horses, one an ordinary horse which he used on the march and for other rough ser vice; the other, Black Hawk, a thor oughbred, black as a crow and of great beauty and stamina. “The night before the battle the commoner horgse was stolen, and the next morning at daylight I well re member what a superb picture our colonel made on Black Hawk, who looked fit to race for a kingdom. “The usual position of a colonel is thirty feet to the rear of his regiment, and it was in that position that Colonel Bale first went into the fight. “At the second stand—and I want to see no stubborner fight than we had down there amid the woods, round that little church on the banks of the Tennessee—the Federals gave it 1o us hot, and it was here our lines were nearly broken; it was here also that Colonel Bate had to put himself in front of his regiment before they would charge with enough determina tion to drive the boys in blue again. All ithis time the battle was raging everywhere. “Time and again Colonel Bate led us against Sherman’s brave boys—that thoroughbred horse and rider always in front. Once he made us a short gspeech just before we had to charge again, having been repulsed at the first attempt. He said he wanted us only to follow him, that he would not take us where he would not go him gelf, and we believed him. “This last fight was terrible. Before we struck the enemy, Colonel Bate was shot out of the saddle, the men dropped round us right and left, but we charged on, leaving all as they fell. “When Colonel Bate dropped, Black Hawk seemed to be at a loss what to do; but as the regiment swept on he quickly fell into his place just in the rear of the regiment and followed us on into battle. We must have fought on for a half-mile after that, and it was a strange sight to see that horse following the regiment as stately as if on dress parade, and it touched every man to see him riderless. “At the first opportunity an ambu lance was sent back to find the colonel and take him to the field hospital, some three miles in the rear. In the confusion no one thought of Black Hawk, but he had not forgotten his brave rider, for he actually followed the path of those who carried the colo nel to the hospiial straight up to the hospital tent. Then, to the surprise of Colonel Bate, who had been badly but not fatally wounded in two places, one ball passing through his shoulder, Black Hawk poked his head in at the tent door and affectionately whinnied 10 his master, who was then in the hands of the surgeon. “The next instant he turned, walked a few paces in the woods, staggered, and fell down dead. “An examination showed, what no one had noticed, that he had several bad wounds, one of which proved fatal. “As long as General Bate lived,” concluded the colonel, “he used to say that he could still see the almost hu man loock Black Hawk gave him as he turned away, with that last gentle whinny, to die.” Pemberton’s Scheme, About this time an intercepted dis patch irom Johnston to Pemberton in formed me that Johnston intended to make a determined attack upon us, in order to relieve the garrison of Vicksburg. I knew the garrison wouid make no formidable effort to relieve itself. The picket lines were so close to each other—where there was space enough between the lines to post pickets—that the men could converse. On the 21st of June I was informed, through this means, that Pcmberton was preparing to escape by crossing to the Louisiana side un der cover of night; that he had em ployed workmen in making boats for that purpose; that the men had been canvassed to ascertain if they would make an assault on the “Yankees” to cat their way out; that they had re fused, and had almost mutinied be cause iheir commander would not sugender and relieve their suffer ings, and had omnly been pacified by the assurance that boats enough would be.finished in a week to carry them all over. The rebel pickets also said that houses in the city had been pulled down to get material to build these boats with. Afterward this story was verified. On entering the city we find a large number of rude ]Jv constructed boats. All necessary steps were at once taken to remder such an attempt abortive. Our pickets were doubled; Admiral Porter was informed, so that the river might be more closely watch ed; material was collected on the west bank of the river with which to light it up if the attempt was made; and batteries were established along the levee crossing the peninsu la on the Louisiana side. Had the at- tempt been made, the garrison of Vicksburg would have been drowned, or made prisoners on the Louisiana side. General Richard Taylor was ex pected on the west bank to co-operate in this movement, I believe, but he did not come, nor could he have done so with a force sufficient to be of ser vice.—U. S. Grant in Century. Impressions During a Battle, A recent writer thus speaks of his experience and feelings in a battle: “It is always fashionable to give first impressions. Shall I give you mine? I shall assume an affirmative with out affording time for rebuff. First was dispelled the lbfevlong: illusion that battles were the orderly moves of a game of chess. Campaigns may be likened, as I have heard them, to the manipulation of that game, but battles are made up of a series of ex periments, more or less protracted, according to the ingenuity of the com mander, and the expertness of his of ficers and men. The results of the faro bank can be calculated with as much accuracy as the results of a hattle field. It is the veriest chance —the victory, as in all games, of course, inclining to those who are most cool, and therefore the most likely to perceive advantages. Sec ond, I have overrated the dangers of battle. Here for five hours we have exchanged cannon balls, bullets, bay onet thrusts, and saber strokes, and literally there is nobody hurt, the loss in killed or wounded on our side being about one in two hundred of those engaged. These are my impres sions. Are they not the counterpart of all first experiences on the battle field? A friend asks me tho feeling of a noncombatant under fire. Were you ever caught in the open field when a thunder storm was raging? If you have been, and had nc special fear, you have nevertheless entertain ed an opinion that possibly lightning might strike where you were stand ing. For the three-quarters of an hour that I was under fire, as a non combatant, there was almost a con tinuous thunder of artillery. 1 could realize no special danger, but only an ill defined thought that pessibly some of those flying missiles might come over where I stood in the way. On comparing views with the others situated like myself, encountering the same opportunities and with similar purposes, I find they had the same sensations, so that I may fairly as sume that the mass of men under fire have little or no thought for per sonal consequences, and that coward ice is not a normal characteristic of the human race.” The Corporal’s Fate. ] One evening after our work for the day was done, our jovial little com rade, Elisha Burrows, was seen walk ing down toward the officers’ quarters. His face, always the picture of mirth and fun, was now covered with sad ness. He had just come from his tent. Corporal Lewis was one of his tent mates. Lewis, one of our best soldiers, was a general favorite, and especially so with Lieutenant Burnham, one of the warmest-hearted and most sympa thetic men in the army. As Burrows came near Lieutenant Burnham his face grew more sad, and in mournful tones he asked, “Lieuten ant, did you hear about Corporal Lew is?”’ In his quick, impulsive way, the Lieutenant answered: “No; what ig the matter with him?’ With a voice trembling with emotion Burrows slow: ly replied: “He is now in his tent dy ing.” With tears of heart-felt sorrow and sympathy coursing down his cheeks, Burnham rushed to the sol dier’s tent, exclaiming, ‘“Poor Lewis!” “Poor Lewis!” and found him—sitting before a glass dyeing his new-grown moustache.— “Army Life,” by A. O Marshall. Juast So. Two middle-aged men looked at each other very intently on a Third avenue, New York, car, for some time, and at last one of them said. “Your face is familiar to me. I must have seen you somewhere.” “1 was just going to make the same remark about you. We must have met before. I think I saw you in the army during the war.” “] wasn’t in the army,” replied the other. “Then it can’t have been in the army, for I wasn’t in the army, eith er.” “Now I know where we met. It wag in Canada. Shake hands, comrade. The bounty-jumper still lives. There are enough survivors to hold a reunion Where are you going now?” “I am on my way down town {tc draw my pension.” “So am I. Singular coincidence.” Grant in the Saddle. Grant was at his best in the saddle The one real record that he made for himself at the academy, the one time that he excelled all his fellows, was at the final mounted exercises of his graduating class, when, riding a fa mous horse named York, he was called’ - upon to clear ‘the leaping bar that:the gruff old riding master had placed higher than a man’s head. He dashed out from his place in the ranks, a smooth-faced, slender young fellow or a powerful chestnut sorrel, and gallop ed down the opposite slde of the hall, turned and went directly at the bar, the great horse increasing his pace as he mneared it, and then, as i 1 he and his rider were one, rising and clearing it with a magnificent bound. The leap is still recorded at the acad emy as ‘‘Grant’s upon York.”—St Nicholas. S What ¢an harm us if we are true tc ourselves and do what we think is right 7—Black.. 