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The Guvious Primitive People of Rhodesta,
: By E. L. SECHRIST, & Hissionary in fiashonaland.
In the high lands of Rhodesia
(Bouth Africa) there live the Ma
-l.lzzma.s, who are probably the some
;What degraded descendants of the
psople who once worked the gold
mines of ancient Ophir. No man can
tell the reason for the rise and fall
#of these peorle. We only know thai
they are now so low in the scale of
intelligence that it is hard to under
s;tnd how their ancestors made the
great excavations and the buildings
with which they are credited. Per
haps the ruling people were some
‘Arabic or-Phoenician adventurers,
who left so little of their civilization
here that when they went away even
the memory of them was forgotten.
What may be an evidence of their
stay is the occasional ncoked nose
and thin lips of some negro who is
often more intelligent than his fel
lows. The Mashona people are of
the Bantu race, but are lower than
the Zulu or Matabele; in fact, their
ngme means ‘“the dirty, or filthy peo
ple.”
The whites are now coming into
-the country, developing its aban
'di}ned mines and exploiting mineral
‘wealth of which the ancient miners
never dreamed. The native must sup
ply the labor, but he does not much
eiljoy it. Ho prefers to go to school
and learn to read and write and sing
and be a teacher or a preacher. Still
he wants the clothes and symbols
of civilization, and will work to ob
tain them. There is, however, occa
sionally a man who has some brains
and is willing to work for the better
ment of the condition of himself and
his people. These few justify the
efforts of the various missions and
scaools that are working among the
natives. The industirial schools
. teaching the dignity and Worth of
labor have something of a struggle.
The native of these plateaus must
work or starve, as his land does not
flow with milk and honey. The fruits
are small and poor. Cattle there
were in times past, but the dreadful
plagues have reduced the herds till
few, besides the Lings, have cattle,
Ope king, whose people number
a§out seven thousand scattered thin
1y over his territory, has a herd of
about thirty cattle.
The natives really live the simple
life, and are comparatively well and
‘healthy until they begin to acquire
the clothes and vices of civilization.
During this transition stage the na
tive i 3 a queer creature. When he
lgarns the proper use of clothes—
when he learns that if he has three
Byits it does not mean that all
spould be worn at the same. time
while he works and perspires at ‘a
temperature of ninety degress or
higher; when he learns that a loin
¢cloth and a derby or s‘;mw hat are
- Incongruous, then he will also have
apd sanitation that will make a dif
ferent being of him. At present he
‘wears his clothes day and night until
they are tco tattered to hang on his
body. Then he acquires another gar
ment, and behold! the old one is kept
in its proper place hecause the new
one covers and holds it with all its
‘Brease and grime. On this account
sensitive nostrils suffer mucn. That
the simple life is healihful is attest
ed by the fact that these people who
llve amid conditions of filth in which
they should, by right, die off like
flies, continue to increase and multi
ply.
A hnt ten feet in diameter, this is
the Mashona's home. It has a door
80 low he must crawl into it, Dogs,
‘goats and fowls are also its tenants,
It is warmed by a fire in the centre,
Which also cooks his food. The white
Visitor is soon warned by suffering
efils and lungs that it is no place for
~him, as the smoke only finds egress
through the thatch roof. True, the
,muitoes are driven out, but the
asve cares little for mosquitoes. His
‘food is meal of native graing, ground
by the women on a flat stone by rub
‘bpg with another stone held in the
‘hands. A very primitive way it is,
.n%d one which continually wears
aWway small pieces of the hard granite
to mingle with the meal. These
sparp particles are very trying to the
sfomach of the white man, but the
native seems to have the stomach of
ap ostrich, and thrives on it. Some
.gralns are also ground or stamped
to powder in a mortar made froin the
trunk of a tree,
Go with me to a village in the
early morning and you will find the
smoke rising from each hut through
the grass roof. A fire is burning
for warmth, and to cook the food
which the women will be grinding on
the stones, and one hears on all sides
the crunch, crunch of grinding. The
most common native grain is a small
" millet, from which is made a red
pottage, the same for which Esau
gold his birthright. The meal is
stirred into bolling water until it is
as thick as it can be stirred with a
long stick held in both hands. This
half-cooked mass is taken out and
tossed into a basket or a plate and
patted into a loaf of the color of
chocolate and of the congistency of
dough. This India rubber-like mass
mhay not be the equal of the multi
cooked, triple-digested health foods,
but it seems to suit these children
aof nature. By the time it is cooled
the rest of the meal is ready. This
may be peanuts roasted in the ashes,
some one of the native beans, greens
+of various kinds, pumpkin, or meat,
It is meat if it can be had, and the
gift by the traveler of a tin of pre
served beef is highly appreciated.
The native is almost omnivorous in
the matter of meat. Killed freshly
gr ready for a feast for th- buzzards,
ft 15 all one to him. H. may roast
it on the stones by the fire, or stew
it in a coarsely-made earthen-pot. A
chunk of ‘sadza,” the porridge be
tween thumb and finger, dipped into
the stew, or with a morsel pulled off
the meat, is devoured with a noise
as of o horse crunching its feed of
grain. If no fresh meéat is at hand the
store of locusts may be opened and
a few handfuls heated on the fire
—these ara eaten with great relish
after the legs and wings have been
snapped off. The Mashonas are quite
abstemious usually, but if the white
man furnigshes the foed they can
store away most strprising quanti
tles. Other delicacies are caterpil
lars and some of the ants, The ants
are really delicious, having a sweet,
nutty fiavor when roasted, but I can
not vouch for the taste of the cater
pillars. My stomach is inured to
many things, but there are limits.
The caterpiilar eaten is of the furry
kind, striped. It is gathered into
baskets, laid on the rocks, and trod
den by the feet or rolled under a
flat stick until its feathers are rubbed
off or mussed up considerably, then
it is stewed for a few minutes, and
is ready for the savory stew into
which the mouthful of dough is to be
dipped.
The men have been sitting out
side around a fire while the food was
being prepared. After eating they
g 0 about their various duties, and
are in the open air until nightfall.
They sometimes travel almost in
credible distances on a journey or
‘after game, and sometimes run down
a rabbit or small antelope. The
‘women do most of the work in ihe
‘gardens, clthough the men do the
preliminary work of clearing the
scrubby timber of the ground select
ed for the gardens. This clearing
;does not come every year, as they
work on a plot of ground until it is
exhausted before clearing another.
‘The women dig up the earth into
;rldges with their hoes shaped like a
pancake, sow the grain, cultivate and
‘harvest it.
~ The grain is stored in temporary
granaries near the thrashing floor,
which is a flat roeck or of hard,
‘smooth earth, until it is thoroughly
dry. Then it is beaten out with sticks,
‘winnowed by tossing from a basket in
the wind, and, finally, stored in
{granaries of reeds or grass, covered
inside and out with mud. These
{granaries are usually built on rocks,
iand are of all gizes, from the small
kone to hold a few pounds, perhaps
oof melon sceds, to the large ones,
six feet tall by thres feet in dlam
}eter. They are roofed with clay, and
again with grass, and are-only
opeued when needed for use. Great
quantities of the grains are pur
‘chased by traders and sold to the
mines, etc., as food for thefr la
‘heads of the women; there are no
other beasts of burden. : S
At noon the natives usually rest
from their work and have a lunch,
a small piece of ‘“‘sadza” left from
the morning meal and 2 pot of
“doro,” the native beer, usually
‘sufficing. This beer may be either
)mild or quite intoxicating, and is
‘made from the same native millet.
It is thick ana gruel-like, and is quite
!nutri'cious. Doro is one of the great
iest curses and most degrading influ
ences of the country. A crowd will
get together in the afiernoon with
immense pots of beer and drink as
long as the beer lasts, winding up
with a dance and often a fight. The
idancess may be anything from a
simple child’s play to most immoral
ia_n'alrs. Many of the dances are re
ligious ceremonies eonnected with
the management of the affairs of the
people. The evening meal is pre
pared in the hut, usually after dark,
)and is the same as that of the morn
ilng. Soon all are asleep in the gar
ments bearing the filth and soil of
the day’s work. And still they live
and thrive. Rearing children is the
‘Woman's business, and she is rarely
seen without one on her back, and
often a smaller one in her arms. The
babies are comical little fellows, too,
often frightened at the sight of a
white face, but scon becoming
friendly,
"~ King Maranki, in whose territory
I have spent some time, is a good
specimen of a barbarian geatleman.
He was deprecating, one day, the
tendency of many of the black people
to steal, and his reasons were per
haps as good as those given by most
white men. Said he: “It is not good
to steal from white men, for the po
lice will cateh them and put them in
prison, It is not good to steal from
Kaffirs, either. When I get drunk
and lie down to sleep I do not want
to wake up and find my assegais and
sticks gone.” One day, as we were
walking © over his gardens photo
graphing, we came across the old
man, not drank enough to lie down,
but enough g 0 to be happy.. He
talked so much that we could hardly
get away, and then he walked along
with us sending his women off after
presents. We flually hurried away,
leaving our boys to depart when they
could, and when they caught up with
us they had three pumpking, some
bunches of corn in the ear, and about l
a gallon of peanuts, He also made |
us several vigits and was helpful to
us In getting gome good pictures of
the natives and the scenery,
Many of these views of .the -old
life cannot he obtained in a few vears, |
as things are changing rapidly. It
will ba well for the native when ho
passes thls dangerous period of tran
sition., The exposure of his skin to
sun and alr has no doubt had much
to do with his good health. A dirty
civilized garment is a dangerous thing
[and far from beautil:! or picturs
iosque. while many of i2e younger |
people, clad chiefly in nature's garb,
are both pleasing to the cye and as
modest as can be desired. They are
a polygamous but quite a moral peo
plo according to their standards. To
the white man any sense of nudity
is dispelled by the chocolate-brown
skin, and one admires the texture of
the glossy brown skin, the supple
muscles, and the graceful propor
tions as he might a fine horse. Im
modesty is not thought of; it is not
in the native’s mind until implanted
by the white man. Photography
among the Mashonas is sowewhat
difiicult, as they are shy. It is only
after some acquaintance and repeated
visits and talk that they will drop
their self-consciousness and g 0 on
with their work as though you were
one of themseives.
The Xaffir industries have declined
since the advent of the whites. Iron
is no longer smelted, and only a few
scattered smithies remain. The na
tives make a few assegais or knives.
Most of their hoes, etc., are “‘made
in Germany” to the native pattern
and sold from the traders’ stores.
The cheap prints have entirely re
placed the old-time bark cloth. Iron
pots, in many instances, take the
place of the earthen ones. The water-
Jars, either of calabash shells or of
carthenware, with perhaps a few
criss-cross scratches for decoration,
remain ag of old. A few baskets are
made, but wjth simple or no decora
tion, and the people know nothing of
color. . Black and white is all they
seem to see. They are away below
our American Indian in intellect or
enterprise, but endure clvl_lilatlon‘ l
beétter, taking what comes and not
fretting under it. This makes thd
negro problem here serious. . 1
In traveling about this country one
must of necessity use carriers, andl
this is work for'the men. Bach man |
carries his load of sixty pounds on
his head or shoulder and trots off
his fifteen miles a day. He can do
twenty-five or more if necessity com
pels, but it is not wisdom to rush
things. There is also the occasional
donkey if one desires to ride. Walk-'!
ing is usually preferable and heaith
ful, while if one is iil the hammock
comes into service. If one travels
but little during the rainy season
there is little cause to fear sickness. .
There is fover, but mosquito netting
prevents that, and for all but a few
months of the year the eclimate of
these plateaus is delightful for out
door life. Pure air and sunshine,
and some weather cool enough to be
quite bracing, make this in reality a
couniry for the white man, although
it is but twenty degrees from the
equator. The altitude of three thou
sand feet takes away most of the
troubles of the tropics and leaves
nearly the ideal climaie where one
can with comfort be outdoors all day
and all night most of the year.—
Leslie’'s Weekly, Ak
L b s P el SR L s G N
flat plate of iron with a hole it the
middle. In his volume of “Pergpnal
Adventures” Colonel J. P. Robertson
describes the extraordinary method of
preparing the horse to be shed:
* The farrier takes a good long rope,
doubles it, and knots a loop at the
end to about the size of a good large
horse-collar. This is to put over the
horse’s head after the manner of a
horse-collar, the knet resiing on the
horse's chest. -
Then the two- ends of rope are
brought between his legs; each rope,
then taken by a man, is nitched on to
the fetlocks of his hind legs and
brought through the loop in front;
then by a hard, steady pull the hind
legs are drawn up to the fore legs,
and the horsze falls heavily on his
side, /
« All four feet are then tied to
gether by the fetloeks, the horse is'
propped up on his back, and the
farrier sits quietly down beside him,
takes off all the old shoess and puts
on new. When the work is finished
the horse is untied and allowed ta
get up. 3
T — - ——————————————————— o ¥
Punish the Officials,
Punigh future infraciion of the
laws by the corporations, but punish
the officials and not the stockholders,
If juries hesitate and fine the éorpo
rations, it is an act of great injus
tice; in short, it {s an outrage. Let
the present laws stand and watch
their result, for the wise physician
presgribes one medicine and watches
its effect before prescribing another,
Cease all threats or hard words
about the corporations and capital
ists, for such words are only idle and
frighten a public already scared. And
one may not forget that the savings
banks are the great owners of corpo
ration bonds and notes; are, in short,
the trustees of the wages of tho
great wage-carning publie, for the
poor men lend to the rich corpora~
tions because they know that the
rotes of the rich corporations have
always been their gafest Inveutn:;ent:.l
—Heunry Lee Higgingon, in the Ate
lantie, |
e —
Gray vs, Brown Camels,
The length of a stage varies
throughout Persia, depending on the
cheracter of the country, and s reck
oned in farsals, the old Greek pln-“
sang. The farsak is 2 most elastic
and uncertain measure, and as ani
-78 aro pald for per farsck, as many
ns the credulity of the traveler will/
allow are crowded into each stage.
“Tew far,” I once asked an old
Kurdish muleteer, “ls a farsak?” |
"“As far as one can distinguish a gray
from a brown camel,” was the dig
creet answer. They average about
four miles, ond the stage about six
farsaks, or twenty-five miles.~"‘Dip
lomatiet,” in the Atlantie,
‘ ¢ : »My AT
(Joob H@A D)
o oS
«’g‘ . : ~, ™™
%"4 A‘ :’ ” .
| PR
& B e o “i
.
- Road Surveyors and Pathmasters,
~ Omo of the marked differences ex
isting between the foreign methods |
‘of road management and those coms
‘mon fn the United States is recalled ]
by comments of a London periodical
‘of bigh standing tn regard to part of ‘
@& treatise by the Office of Public
Roads, on road making and manage
ment. The Surveyor and' Municipal
‘and County Engineer says:
,§§SWe are not a little surprised to
‘pead that ‘the crdinary road official
rarely has to build a new road,’ and
further that ‘if such a task is imposed
upon him he usnally requires the as
‘%atance of a civil engineer to lay out
the work, to cstablish the grades, and
.to set the grade stakes. Often in re
building an existing way it is advisa
‘gle to change the grades to a consid
_eérable extent, and then the services
of a civil engineer are likewise re
quired.’
. ‘‘The average road surveyor in
‘England is quite capable of carrying
éut the surveying, leveling, plan prep
aration and setting out works in con
nection with the making of new
- roads.”
. But in all England there are prac
_tically ro earth roads such as make
up ninety-three per cent. of the public
- wagon roads of the United States.
- Doubtless England would be amazed
- Wwere anyone to propose that her
“highways should be delivered into the
_care of men chosen each new year
from her farmers, perhaps with more
- regard to their personal vopularity
than consideration of their knowl
edge of the work required, or other
fitness for the office of “pathmaster.”
| None can truly deny that we are
_ conservative. In our Fastern States
‘;,most public roads wero laid out orig
“inally by following lines of least re
sistance, except perhaps where some
man of dominating nature planted
- Liis house upon a hill, and obstinately
drove straight up and down, to and
from his own gate. Most of those
_early roads wound round hill and
} swamp, river and creek bends, and
_the many ponds. So the roads still
- wind, in many a State.
+ lln the Middle and Western States
surveyors of generations now gone
‘ran straight lines for scores, some
‘times for hundreds of miles, to be
_boundaries of States and counties, of
_townships and of “sections;” and the
“highways were to follow along these
rigid boundary lines, up hill and
- through gulch, pond and river, There
?as little need then of a surveyor to
tell people where to make their high
. ways. Nor was there, in those days,
-surveyors enough to do that, if they
e been wiod to undoriaks the lob.
;;fgghei}'ed_’g::e ‘a year to choose a
- pathmaster. So to this day do the
people of the rural districts of most
of our States. No doubt many of
them would feel, and say, that they
would be ‘“‘putting on frills” were
they to employ educated engineers
to. tell them where and how they
should make their highways.—l From
the Good Roads Magazine,
Roads and the Automobile.
An event of a certain amount of
importance in connection with the
use of motor cars relates to the trials
made during May on certain roads in
Middlesex and Berkshiro with prep
arations of tar and tar-spreading ma
chines for the prevention of dust, says
the Mechanical World. It appears
that the judges’ committee of the
Roads Improvement Association have
just made the awards of prizes for the
machines which they consider to oc
cupy the first and second positions,
and also for the two best tar prepara
tions, due regard being had to the
‘eondition of the roads since the iests
were made on four days in May. As
the committee consists of eight lead
ing engineers and road surveyors in
addition to members of the associa
tion, it will be necessary to attach
importance to their report on its
forthcoming publication. At the
same time it has to be borne in mind
that the trials have been made in the
interest of the motor car industry,
‘and the real object is to secure im
proved road surfaces for the purpose
of obtaining higher speeds with auto
mobiles. But how would this work
out in practice on the assumption that
prospective legislation would abolish
the existing speed limit, and that the
roads were covered with a dust-pre
venting composition? Surely the an
swer 18 to be found in the experience
already gained on, the Brooklands
racing track, where the cement gur
face not only gave way during recent
racing, but the concrete foundation
was disintegrated and thrown about
the track. If this is possible with
cement and concrete, the question is
whether the ordinary roads would
behave any differently when tar-cov
ered and when autos were traveling
on them at only half the gpeed at
tained on the racing track in ques
tion.—The Automobile.
Trade Unionism,
In trade unionism there is a strong
tendency everywhere toward amalzas
mation. While there has been a fall
ing off In the number of gocleties,
there has been an advance of mem
bership from 1,602,652 to 1,887,
823. Increased efficlency in the
operation of great trade unions is
being shown in go far that, while the
expenditure per member Is going s
the accumulated funds per: member
are taking a similar course.—London
Co-operative News,
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2T Y S A NG AN
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Grit Boxee,.
Every well regulated poultry house
ought to have a grit box. This is
easlly made out ei a cracker box, and
the seli feeding kind is the hest. Make
three apartments and fill them with
grit, charcoal and oyster shells.
Hang this box on the wall just with
in reech of the fowls and you will be
surprised to note the amount of grit
the fowls will consume. Anyone
with a hammer and saw and a little
ingenuity can make a box that will
last for years. By hanging it on the
wall it is out of the way and the
grit and oystoer sheill keep clean and
are not wasted. If you have a large
flock of fowls you will need several
of these boxes. If you have several
peng, one must be supplied to each
pen. This plan is much better than
to supply the grit in an open box
which soon becomes mixed with the
dirt and scratching material of the
floor.—Wisconsin Agriculturist.
How to Drive a Hen.
When a woman has a hen to drive
into the coop, she takes hold of her
skirts with both hande, shakes them
quietly at the delinquent and says,
“Shoo, there!” The hen takes oneo
look at the object to convince her
that it is a woman, and then stalks
majestically into the coop. A man
doesn't do that way. He goes out
doors and says, “It is singular no
body can drive a hen but me,” and
picks up a stick of wood, hurls it at
the offending biped. “Get in there,
you thief.” The bhen then loses hér
reason and dashes to the other end
of the yard. The man straightway
dashes after her. She comes back
with her head down, her wings out,
and followed by an assortment of
stove-wood, fruit cans and clinkers,
and a. very mad man in the rear.
Then she gkims under the barn and
over a fence or two, and around the
house and back again to the coop,
and all the time talking as only an
excited hen can talk, and all the while
followed by things convenient for
handling and a man whose coat is
on the saw buck and whose hat is on
the ground, and whose perspiration
knows no limit, g
By this time the other hens have
come out to take a hand in the de
bate and help dodge missiles, and the
man says every hen on the place shall
be sold in the morning, and puts on
bis things and goes down the street,
and the woman has every one of thoss
AoM ARG soyated in oo
B vy N TN KPR AN #
e Le —— T
Fruit Treos Exhaust Soil.
In considering the reasons why
apple and other fruit trees do not
bear as many or as fine apples as
they did in the eatly days, writes
Professor Garman, of Kentucky sta
tion, I have been impressed with the
importance of supplying the trees
with fertilizers as the soil becontes
exhausted, and am satigfied that the
greatest relative difficulty experl-‘
enced nowadays in keeping truit‘
trees in good condition is in part due |
to an exhaustion of the goil. Trees
forage more widely than smaller
plants, and may not show the effects
of starvation as suddenly or as soon,
but they must sghow it in time if
grown long on the same land without
anything being returned to the goil
to replace materials removed by the
trees. lln this relation I was struck
recently by a statement which I en
countered in Professor Voorhees' in
teresting Ilfttle book on fertilizers.
He says that twenty crops of apples
of fifteen bushels per tree, and thir
ty-five trees to the acre, equal 1337
pounds of nitrogen, 810 pounds of
phosphoric acid and 1805 pounds of
potash. Twenty crops of wheat, ot|
fifteen bushels per acre, equal 660
pounds of nitrogen, 211 pounds of
phogphoric acid and 324 pounds of
potagh. Therefore, according to Pro
fessor Voorhees, twenty crops of
apples remove more than twice as
much nitrogen, hal! as much again
phosphoric acid, and nearly three
times as much potash, as twenty
crops of wheat. A good farmer
would hardly think of growing twen
ty succossive crops of wheat on the
same land, no matter how good it
might be, and it would geem to Lo
still greater folly, according to the
figures given, to attempt to Brow |
twenty crops of apples without re
turning anything to the soil,
A Farmer's Creed.
The following farmer’'s creed, for
mulated nearly three-quarters of n'
century ago by lenry Ward Beech
er, tho famous patriotic and ])'.umt:
orator, and one of the flrst editors |
of the Indiana Farmer, holds good to
day as well as then; |
“We believe In small farms and
thorough cultivation, {
‘“We believe that soil loves to cat, |
as well as its owner, and ought,l
therefore, to bo liherally fed, |
‘“We belleve in large crops whlch;
leave the land ) better than x|
found it-—making the farmer and tae
farm both glad at once. |
‘“We belleve in going to the bot
tom of things, and, therafore, in
deep plowing and enough of it. All
the better with a subsoll plow,
“We believs hat every farm
should own a good farmer, 1
“We believe that the best fertl
lizer for any soil i 3 a spirit of indus
try, enterprise and intelligence, With
out this lime and gypsum, bdnes and
green manure, marl and guano, will
be of liitle use.
“We belleve in good fences, good
barns, good farm houses, good stock,
good crchards and children enough
to ‘gather the fruit.
“We believe in a clean kitchen, a
neat wife in #t, a clean cupboard, a
clean dairy and a clean consclence.«|
“We firmly disbelieve in farmers
that will not fmprove; in farms that
Brow poorer every year; in starving
cattle; in farmers' boys turning into
clerks and merchants; in farmers’,
daughters unwilling to work, and in
all farmers ashamed of their voca
tion, or who drink whisky until hon=
est people are ashamed of them,’—
Indiana Farmer. ,
A White Leghorn Egg Farm.
In New York State, on one of those
breezy hills which are to be found in
almost every county, Mr. Wyckoff
many years ago, started out to make
a living for himself and his family
from the soil. His only capital was .
his ambition, good health and a wife
full of cheer and encouragement. In
looking about for a farm, he found
an old man who was so anxious to
sell that a man without money was
able to buy. Mr. Wyckoff’s father
went secyrity for the first payment
and loaned his son cash enough to
purchase a team, a few cows, some
tools, seed and twenty-five scrub
hens, 3
The buildings were for the most
part in a tumble-down condition, and
ag the new farmer hadn’'t a cent to
make any improvements with, he de
termined to develop the poultry end
of the business, as it required no ex
penditure of capital. He housed his
flock in one of the old buildings;
they laid fairly well, but recognizing
the advantage of having thorough
bred stock, he soon replaced them
with Brown Leghorns. From the
eggs laid by these he saved in one
winter and spring $75, and with it
bought White Leghorn eggs. The
next year, the third on the place, he
had a flock of 180 White Leghorn
hens. That winter eggs were un
usually high, and his flock returned
him S9O in eggs laid. This money
was invosted in buildings, the hens
paying for all the improvements
made. 3 1
Mr. V;;ycko! never invested an out
*‘l“ ollar in h' i ',_“A”- oy )w 1
dfi"‘%g'fi ht his 1 J‘fi%’m
scrub hens. Every ¢ his hens
made was put back into new . builds
ings and yards. ' It took five or six
years to get the business well started
owing to lack of capital, but gince
then he has sold about S4OOO worth
of produce from his farm aunnually,
of which about $3500 is from eggs
and poultry. ' He always kept a few
cowe, and for many years depended
on the dairy to pay:the interest on
the purchase price of his place.
It may interest some to know.
what sort of a ration was fed on this
farm. In tho morning a mash was
compounded as follows. One bu.
}corn, two bu. oats, ground fine; to
each 200 pounds of this mixture add
100 pounds bran and five or six
pounds beef scraps; moisten with
milk, This is fed in troughs, the
feeder returning in ten minutes to
take up any more where needed, At
noon, green food was given, either
mangels or cabbage in winter, clover,
or kale in summer; sometimes a light
feed of mixed grain in the litter.
Night feed was usually mized grain;
in winter two bushels each wheat,
oats, buckwheat and corn; in sum
mer the corn in the mixture is re
duced one-half.—E, K. Parkinson, in
the Country Gentleman.
Breeders’ Notes, - -
Shake the hay well out bafore feed
ing. g
Do not compel horses to drink
warm water,
No farmer makes money raising
inferfor horges,
Take the dirt off the legs with a
rag or soft brush, rather than with
the curryecomb,
The farmer who has his surplus
capital invested in good horses has
2. draft which he can draw at any
ths,
Kecning the sekin of the work
horzes clean enables them to gweat
freelv and thus is essential to thelr
health,
Get rid of the surplus horges that
are not growing into monoy, There
is no advantage in kéeping enough
extra horges to cat all that useful
ones earn,
It is not good policy to force the
growth of colts by giving them
stimulating foods and overieeding
them, The overgrown horse i 3 gel
dom a durable one, ;
A borse, especially if he is nors
vous, i 8 much more lkely to be
alarmed by the gound of a noigse he
cannot see than by the sight of
things he does not understand.
The orlgin of many diseases
among horses can be traced directly
to fiithy stables. It is, therefore,
good economy to keep the stables
scrupulously clean,—Boston Cultiva~
tor, e
