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CHAPTER IX.
* T
“1 vonder if I can?” site said to me.
The next morning Chonita, clad in a
long gown of white wool, a silver cross
at her throat, her hair arranged like a
coronet, sat in a large chair in the dis
pensary. Her father stood beside a
table parceling drugs. The sick poor of
Santa Barbara passed them in a long
line.
The Doomswoman exercised her power
to heal, the birthright of the twin.
“I wonder if I can,” she said to me,
laying her white fingers on a knotted
arm, “or if it is my father’s medicines. I
have no right to question this beautiful
faith of my country, but I really don't
seo how Ido it. Still, I suppose it is like
many things in our religion, not for mere
human beings to understand. This
pleases my vanity at least. I wonder if
I shall have cause to exercise my other
endowment.”
“To curse?”
“Yes; I think I might do that with
something more of sincerity.”
The men, women and children, native
Californians and Indians, scrubbed for
the occasion, filed slowly past her, and
she touched all kindly and hade them be
well. They regarded her with adoring
eyes and bent almost to the ground.
“Perhaps they will help mo out of
purgatory,” she said, “and it is some
thing to be on a pedestal; I should not
like to come down. It is a cheap vic
tory, but so are most of the victories
that the world knows of.”
When she had touched nearly a hun
dred they gathered about her, and she
spoke a few words to them.
“My friends, go and say, ‘I shall be
well.’ Does not the Bible say that faith
shall make ye whole? Cling to your
faith! Believe! Believe! Else will you
feel as if the world crumbled beneath
your feet! And there is nothing, noth
ing to take its place. What folly, what
presumption, to suggest that anything
can—a mortal passion”— She stopped
suddenly, and continued coldly, “Go,
my friends; words do not come easily to
me today. Go, and God grant that you
may be well and happy.”
CHAPTER X.
izfl
IU
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As the others crossed the threshold he
drew her back.
We sat in the sala the next evening
awaiting the return of the prodigal and
his deliverer. The night was cool and
the doors wore closed; coals burned in a
roof tile. The room, unlike most Cali
fornian salas, boasted a carpet, and the
furniture was covered with green rep
instead of the usual black horsehair.
Don Guillermo patted the table gently
with his open palm, accompanying the
tinkle of Piudencia's guitar and her
light, monotonous voice. She sat on the
edge of a chair, her solemn eyes fixed on a
painting of Reinaldo which hung on the
wall. Dona Trinidad was sewing as
usual and dressed as simply as if she
looked to her daughter to maintain the
state of the Iturbi y Moncadas. Above
a black silk skirt she wore a black
shawl, one end thrown over her shoul
der. About her head was a close black
silk turban, concealing, with the excep
tion of two soft gray locks on either side
of her face, what little hair she may
still have possessed. Her white face was
delicately cut: the lines of time indicated
spiritual sweetness rather than strength.
Chonita roved between the sala and an
adjoining room where four Indian girls
embroidered the yellow poppies on the
white satin. I was reading one of her
books—the “Vicar of Wakefield.”
“Wilt thou be glad to see Reinaldo,
my Prudencia?" asked Don Guillermo as
the song finished.
“Aye!” ami the girl blushed.
“Thou wouldst make a good wife for
Reinaldo, and it is well that lie marry.
It is true that he has a gay spirit and
loves company, but you shall live here
in this house, ami if he is not a devoted
husband he shall have no money to
spend. It is time he became a married
Tjian and learned_that life was.not made
for dancing and flirting; then, too. would
his restless spirit get him into fewer
broils. I have heard him speak twice of
no other woman except Valencia Menen
dez, and I would not have her for a
daughter, and I think he loves thee.”
“Sure!" said Dona Trinidad.
“That is love, I suppose,” said Choni
ta, leaning back in her chair and forget
ting the poppies. “With her a placid,
contented hope, with him a calm prefer
ence for a malleable woman. If he left
her for another she would cry for a
week, then serenely marry whom my
father bade her, and forget Reinaldo in
the donas of the bridegroom. The birds
do almost as well.”
Don Guillermo smiled indulgently.
Prudencia did not know whether to cry
or nui. Dona Trinidad, who never
thought of replying to her daughter, said:
“Chonita mia, Liseta and Tomaso wish
to marry, and thy father will give them
the little house by the creek.”
“Yes. mamacita,” said Chonita ab
sently. She felt no interest in the loves
of the Indians.
“We have a new father in the mis
sion,” continued her mother, remember
ing that she had not acquainted her
daughter with all the important events
of her absence. “And Don Rafael
Guzman's son was drafted. That was a
judgment for not marrying when his
father bade him. For that I shall be
glad to have Reinaldo marry. I would
not have him go to the war to be killed.”
“No,” said Don Guillermo. “He must
be a diputado to Mexico. I would not
lose my only son in battle. I am am
bitious for him, and so art thou, Chonita,
for thy brother. Is it not so?”
“Yes; I have it in me to stab the heart
of any man who rolls a stone in his
way.”
“My daughter.” said Don Guillermo,
with the accent of duty rather than of
reproof, “thou must love without venge
ance. Support thy brother, but harm
not his enemy. I would not have thee
hate even an Estenega. although I can
not love them myself. But we will not
talk of the Estcnegas. Dost thou realize
that our Reinaldo will be with us this
night? We must all go to confession to
morrow —thy mother and myself, Eusta
quia, Reinaldo, Prudencia and thyself.”
Chonita’s face became rigid. “I can
not go to confession,” she said. “It may
be months before I can —perhaps never.”
“What?”
“Can one go to confession with a hat
ing and an unforgiving heart? Aye, that
I never had gone to Monterey! At least
I had the consolation of my religion be
fore. Now I fight the darkness by my
self. Do not ask me questions, for I
shall not answer them. But taunt me
no more with confession.”
Even Don Guillermo was dumb. In
all the twenty-two years of her life she
never had betrayed violence of spirit be
fore; even her hatred of the Estenegas
had been a religion rather than a per
sonal feeling. It was the first glimpse of:
her soul that she had accorded them, and
they were aghast. What—what had hap
pened to this proud, reserved, careless
daughter of the Iturbi y Moncadas?
Dona Trinidad drew down her mouth.
Prudencia began to cry. Then for the
moment Chonita was forgotten. Two
horses galloped into the courtyard.
“Reinaldo!”
The door had but an inside knob. Don
Guillermo threw it open as a young man
sprang up the three steps of the corridor,
followed by a little man who carefully
picked his way.
“Yes, I am here, my father, my moth
er, my sister, my Prudencia! Aye, Eusta
quia, thou too.” And the pride of the
house kissed each in turn, his dark eyes
wandering absently about the room. He
was a dashing caballero and as hand
some as any ever born in the
The dust of travel had been removed—at
a saloon —from his blue velvet gold em
broidered serape, which he immediately
flung upon the floor. His short jacket
and trousers were also of dark blue
velvet the former decorated with
buttons of silver filigree, the latter
laced with silver cord over spotless
linen. The front of his shirt was covered
with costly lace. His long betas were of
soft yellow leather stamped with designs
in silver and gartered with blue ribbon.
The clanking spurs were of silver inlaid
with gold. The sash, knotted gracefully
over his hip, was of white silk. His
curled black hair was tied with a blue
ribbon and clung, clustering and damp
about a low brow. He bore a strange
resemblance to Chonita in spite of the
difference of color, but his eyes were
merely large and brilliant; they had no
stars in their shallows. His mouth was
covered by’ a heavy silken mustache and
his profile was bold. At first glance he
impressed one as a perfect type of manly
strength, aggressively decided of char
acter. It was only when he casi aside
the wide sombrero—which, when worn
a little back, most becomingly framed
his face—that one saw the narrow, in
significant head.
For a time there was no convocation;
only a series of exclamations. Clmhita
alone was calm, smiling a loving wel
come. In the excitement of the first mo
ments little notice was taken of the de
voted bailer, who ardently regarded Cho
nita.
Don Juan de la Borrasca was flouting
his sixties, fighting for his youth as a
parent fights for its young. His with
ered little face wore the complacent
smile of vanity; his arched brows fur
nished him with a supercilious expression
which atoned for Ins lack of inches—he
was barely five feet two. His large
curved nose was also a compensating
gift from the godmother of dignity, and
he carried himself so erectly that he
j looked like a toy general. His small
, black eyes were bright as glass beads.
I and his hair was ribboned as bravely’ as
i Reinaldo’s. He was clad in silk attire—
I red silk embroidered with butterflies.
I His little hands were laden with rings;
| carbuncles glowed in the lace of his
■ shirt. He was moderately wealthy, but
a stanch retainer of the house of Iturbi
y Moncada, the devoted slave of Chonita
She was the first to remember him, and
held out her hand for him to kiss. “Thou
hast the gratitude of my heart, dear
friend,” she said as the little dandy
curved over it. “I thank thee a dozen
J times for bringing my’ brother back to
me.”
“Aye, Dona Chonita, thanks be to God
and Mary that I was enabled so to do.
Had my mission proved unsuccessful I
should have committed a crime and gone
to prison with him. Never would I have
returned here. Dueno adorado. ever at
thy’ feet.”
Chonita smiled kindly, but she was
listening to her brother, who was now
expatiating upon his wrongs to a sym
pathetic audience.
“Holy heaven!” he exclaimed, striding
up and down the room, “that an Iturbi
y Moncada, the descendant of twenty
generations, should lie put to shame, to
disgrace and humiliation by being east
into a common prison! That an ardent
patriot, a loyal subject of Mexico, should
be accused of conspiring against the
judgment of an Alvarado! Carillo was
my friend, and had his cause been a just
one I had gone with him to the gates of
death or the chair of state. But could
I —l conspire against a wise and great
man like Juan Bautista Alvarado? No.
not even if Carillo had asked me so to
do. But, by the stars of heaven, he did
not. I had been but the guest of his
bounty for a month, and the suspicious
rascals who spied upon ns, the poor
brains who compose the departmental
junta, took it for granted that an Iturbi
y Moncada could not be blind to Carillo’s
plots and plans and intrigues that, hav
ing been the intimate of his house and
table, I must perforce aid and abet what
ever schemes engrossed him.
“Aye, more often than frequently’ did
a dark surmise cross my mind, but 1
brushed it aside as one does the prompt
ing of evil desires. I would not believe
that a Carillo would plot, conspire and
rise again after the terrible lesson he had
received in eighteen hundred and thirty
eight. Alvarado holds California to his
heart: Castro, the Mars of the Nineteenth
century, hovers menacingly’ on the hori
zon. Who, who in sober reason would
defy that brace of frowning gods?”
His eloquence was cut short by’ respir
atory interference, but he continued to
stride from one end of the room to the
other, his face flushed with excitement.
Prudencia’s large ey’es followed him, her
tongue speechless with admiration. Dona
Trinidad smiled upward with the self
approval of the modest barnyard lady
who has raised a magnificent bantam.
Don Guillermo applauded loudly’. Only
Chonita turned away, the truth smiting
her for the first time.
“Words, words!” she thought, bitterly.
“He would have said all that in two
sentences. Is it true—aye, triste de mi!
—what he said of my brother! I hate
him. yet his brain has cut mine and
wedged there. My head bows to him,
even while all the Iturbi y Moncada in
me arises to curse him. But my broth
er! my brother! he is so much younger.
And if he had the same advantages—
those years in Mexico and America and
Europe—would he not know as much as
Diego Estenega? Oh, sure! sure!”
“My son,” Don Guillermo was saying,
“God be thanked that thou didst not
merit thy imprisonment. 1 should have
beaten thee with my cane and locked
thee in thy room for a month hadst thou
disgraced my name. But, as it happily
is, thou must have compensation for un
just treatment. Prudencia, give me thy
hand. ”
The girl rose, trembling and blush
ing, but crossed the room with stately
step and stood beside her uncle. Don
Guillermo took her hand and placed it
in Reinaldo’s. “Thou shalt have her
my son,” he said. “I have divined thy
wishes.”
Reinaldo kissed the small fingers flut
tering in his, making a great flourish.
He was quite ready to marry, and his
pliant little cousin suited him better
than any one he knew. “Day star of
my eyes!” he exclaimed, “consolation of
my soul! Memories of injustice, discom
fort and sadness fall into the waters of
oblivion rolling at thy feet. I see neither
past nor future. The rose hued curtain
of youth and hope falls behind and be
fore us. ”
“Yes, yes,” assented Prudencia de
lightedly. “My Reinaldo! my Reinaldo!”
We congratulated them severally and
collectively, and when the ceremony was
over Reinaldo cried, with even more en
thusiasm than he had yet shown, “My
mother, for the love of Mary give me
something to eat—tamales, salad, chick
en, dulces. Don Juan and I are as emp
ty as hides.”
Dona Trinidad smiled with the pride
of the Californian housewife. “It is
ready, my son. Come to the dining room.”
She led the way, followed by the fam
Uy, Reinaldo and Prudencia lingering.
As the others crossed the threshold he
drew her back.
j “A lump of tallow; dost thou hear,
my Prudencia?” he whispered hurriedly.
“Put it under the green bench. I must
have it tonight.”
“Aye, Reinaldo”
“Do not refuse, my Prudencia, if thou
lovest me. Wilt thou do it?”
“Sure, my Reinaldo./
In 1869 a Rev. Dr. Crane wrote a
tract on popular amusements, in
which,, he “novel reading
has become the age” and
warned his readers and listeners
against so evil a habit, so soul de
stroying a recreation as novel read
ing. His son is Stephen Crane, who
1 has been making considerable repu
tation as a writer of novels.
INFORMATION
FOR FARMERS
Inquiries Answered by the State
Agricultural Department.
REPLIES TO ALL SORTS OF QUERIES
Some Facts anil Fjgnret Regarding Egyp
tian Lotion— Where to Get a Full »•
ecrlptlon of the Appo trance and Habits
of the Colorado Potato Beetle Remedy
For lluet on Kotes—Wealth of Dixie.
Question’. —Pleate give me in detail
some of the priucipal sources of wealth
of the south as at present utilized, aud
why is it, if there is so much wealth as
we are led to believe, that the country
is not more prosperous ?
Answer.—The greatest incoms of the
south is derived from cotton and its
products, grain and its products, rice,
sugar, tobacco, fruit, vegetables and
the products of the pine tree. The
south has also its stock farms, its man
factoring, mining, merchandising,
building, transportation and other in
terests—bringing into the country about
$1,300,000,0000 annually. One principal
reason that the south receives so little
benefit from the vast wealth is that she
spends it with almost absolute unre
straint on other sections of our own
country, and to fill the coffers of for
eign nations. With perhaps a few un
important exceptions, the south is abso
lutely dependent on the outside world
for all of the following articles, in which
she invests each year with lavish prodi
gality: Paints, oils, drugs, buggies,
harness clocks, watches, china, glass,
cutlery, carpets, curtains, stoves, woolen
and cotton goods, buttons, needles,
thread, soaps, perfumes and other toilet
articles, gloves, dress goods, all kinds of
agricultural implements, chains, nails,
clothing, furniture for our houses, build
ing materials for our railroads and
transportation lines, for our water
works, for our engines, boilers, electric
appliances, for the equipment of our
schools and colleges, and for even the
very commonest sheds that are on
our farms. We pay millions of
dollars to outsiders for the books
which we read and for those which our
children study. Lite and fire insurance
companies take millions of dollars out
of the south each year. Saddest of all,
the farmers pay out many additional
millions for supplies, which they could
just as well raise at home. Thus the
south, which is the most highly favored
section of the Union in natural re
sources and in opportunities for acquir
ing wealth, pays tribute to the north
and west and to every foreign country.
Her cotton crop has built up colossal
fortunes at the north. Her lumber
trade has established foreign companies
on a firm basis; the earnings from her
immense deposits of iron and her mar
ble and minerals have gone to swell the
profits of aliens. Os all these immense
interests, which act as a continual drain
on our hard earned income, scarcely 1
per cent is located within our own bor
ders. Nearly all are outside and are
flourishing and fattening on the life
blood, which is drawn from our arter
ies of trade and commerce. The an
swer to the latter clause of your ques
tion stated succinctly is this: As long as
the south pays out each year for needed
articles more than she receives for her
products, she will be prostrate under
the feet of money lenders and sharpers.
She must learn to handle her own crops,
run her own banks and manufacture
everything needed within her borders.
She must work at home and “board”
there. This is a very simple lesson in
domestic economy, but it has taken us
over a century to master even its rudi
ments. These have now been learned
and the south is being gradually eman
cipated. The day of her full deliver
ance is not very far off. She has every
requisite for independence; climate and
soil for beautiful crops; raw materials
for manufactures of every description.
Each year the facilities for transporta
tion have increased and are increasing.
Manufactures and plants for various in
dustries are constantly being added to
the list. When the south understands
the value of the immense traffic, which
her shortsightedness has allowed to fall
into other hands, she will assert her
right to control it, and no power on
earth can wrest it from her.—State Ag
ricultural Department.
Runt on Roses.
Question. —My hybrid perpetual roses
have been attacked by some enemy,
causing yellow spots upon the leaves,
which have gradually extended until
the whole plant seems affected. The
young branches are drawn up and the
general appearance of the bushes u
sickly and < The tea roses do :
not seem to have contracted the disease, j
whatever it is, but my hollyhocks are i
infected with what appears to be the ;
same disease. The plants seem to have
dried up, and what was once a promise
of lovely flowers is now only a disap- |
pointment. What shall Ido for them? ;
Answer.—The disease which has at- (
tacked your roses is easily recognized as
rose rust, to which the hardy hybrid
perpetuals are peculiarly subject, and
unless checked will develop winter
spores, which will live through the win
ter, and start again on their work of de
struction when the pleasant weather of
spring begins. The best plan is to
watch the rose bushes, and as soon as
the lemon colored spots are discovered
that portion of the plant should be re
moved and burned. Also, in the au
tumn, all fallen leaves underneath the
affected bushes should be removed and i
burned. During the fall and winter
■pray the bushes and the ground about
them with a solution of copper sulphate
or other fungicide, and iu the spring,
after the leaves are open, spray with
ammoniacal copper carbonate.
The diseased condition of your holly
. hocks is owing to the attacks of a fun
, gus called hollyhock rust, not the same
which attacks the roses, but the treat
ment is very much the same. Pull up
all infected plants aud burn them, also
any fallen leaves; then try a thorough
spraying with ammoniacal copper car
bonate solution. —State Agricultural De
partment.
The Klee Weevil.
Question. —In answer to a question a
month or two since, you said that wee
vils were wingless. Now, I semi you
some specimens that you will find are
lively flyers, and they seem to be the in
sects that damage iny corn and other
grains. P.ease tell ma why you said
they wore wingless.
Answer.—The weevil that was men
tioned in a previous answer was called
the “granary weevil,” as you will ob
serve by reading the article again.
They are wingless, but at the same time
they are very injurious to stored grain.
The winged insects that you sent are
called the rice weevil (calaudra orysa).
They resemble the granary weevil very
much iu appearance, and are very de
structive to all stored grain, and in thi*
state do an immense amount of dam
age.
Another pest, the “Angoumois grain
moth,” commonly called “fly weevil,”
does groat damage, particularly to corn,
before it is housed, frequently ruining
whole ears, and rendering it mflt for
foot! for man or beast. But for these
weevil pest-, our corn could be kept
from year to year, as is now the case in
more northern latitudes. The use of
bisulfide of carbon will destroy all these
insects, as I have frequently mentioned,
in answers to questions, ana every
farmer who raises corn, particularly in
the southern portion of the state, should
use it. It is a moderate estimate to
claim that its use would add 15 percent
to the value of the corn in every crib
south of Griffin, and save many farmers!
from buying, who arc now driven to tnat
necessity on account of the losses caused
by weevils and rats.—State Agricult
ural Department.
Egyptian Cotton.
Question. —Is there any need for un
easiness as to Egyptian cotton? Is not
all this agitation about its interfering
with our long staple cotton gotten up
for political effect?
Answer.—The cotton trade of Egypt
is increasing very rapidly. The number
of pounds has nearly doubled since
1879 —the first year in which we had
official reports. In 1879 Egypt exported
270,060.813 pounds. The official report
for 1895 is the latest, and gives the
amount as 521,427,463 pounds. The
price has fallen steadily from 14.95 cents
in 1879 to 8.97 cents in 1895. Our first
direct importation of Egyptian cotton
was iu 1884, and its use here has in
creased very rapidly. In 1896 we im
ported directly from Egypt 43.574,760
pounds. This amount, added to that
which was received through English
channels, increased the total to about
50,000,000 pounds, or about 100,000 bales
American cotton. In view of these
facts our growers of Sea Islaud cotton
have felt much uneasiness. The presi
dent of the New York Cotton Ex
change, Hou. Gustavus O. Hopkins,
says that Egyptian cotton certainly
does compete with our Sea Island or
long staple cotton. Georgia raises two
thirds of this latter crop, and we are of
course directly interested in any move
ment which tends either to increase or
depress the price.—State Agricultural
Department.
Corn Smut.
Question. —Is there any remedy to
prevent the corn smut, which, it seems
to me, is increasing in the last few
years ?
Answer.—The remedies for corn
smut must necessarily be of a preventa
tive nature, because from the fact that
the disease enters the plant when
young, gpraying with Bordeaux mix
ture and other fungicides will do little
good. Experiments on this line have
been made aud the results have con
firmed this opinion. On investigation
it will be fonnd that when the diseased
corn is left iu the field or on the ground 1
it will infect succeeding crops, and also !
that while smutted corn fed to horses ’
may not be very injurious to the ani
mals, the spores will be distributed in
the manure and will work a great
amount of damage. To arrest the dis
ease it will pay to practice rotation of !
crops, and also to destroy as much of i
the smut as. possible before it comes to 1
maturity. Cut off the smut balls and
bury or burn them before they burst
and scatter the spores broadcast Bis
sey says: “Where domestic animals
are allowed to eat smut in the field,
they become the carriers of the spores ■
and their droppings, filled with the still
living spores, become the centers of in- j
fectiou. No animal should be permit
ted to eat smutted corn, even though ■
the owner be convinced of its harmless
ness to the animal itself. The harm
lies in the distribution of the spores, ;
which are little if at all injured by ;
passing through the alimentary canals
of animals.”—State Agricultural De- !
partment
Ruet In Wheat.
Question.—ls there any way to pre
vent rust in wheat? There seems to be
two kinds of rust I one attacks the
' bladM. the other the stalks, aud the.
* latter does much the most dam ige.
Answer.—You are mistaken as to
’ their being two kinds of rust that at
j tack wheat. The same rust attacks the
| blades and stalks indiscriminately. As
; a rule the blades arc first attacked,
( either from their greater susceptibility
' 1 or because the stalks have not made
j their appearance, when the spores, or
’ seeds as the fungus that produces rust,
i first settle upon the plant. Hot, wet
l weather is most conducive to the devel
opment of this fungus, aud some varie
ties of wheat are more easily affected
than others. Weak plants are more
liable to attack than those of vigorous
i growth, hence the importance of plant
ing the best coed. There has no
' remedy discovered for this diseas?,
when once it makes its appearance on
the wheat. We can, however, use pre
ventive means by a careful selection
! of seed, and so treating it before
planting as in soin-i measure to
guard against this disease. The sim-
I plest treatment, and one that gives as
■ good results as any. is to soak the seed
wheat for two or three hours iu a solu
tion made of four ounces of sulphate of
copper (bluestone) to a gallou of water.
Stir the wheat occasionally and skim
off all the light and defective seed that
rise to the top. It is claimed by some
that a free use of salt as a fertilizer
will prevent rust, but this has not beeni
demonstrated. The rust of course does,
most damage when it attacks the stalks,,
for then the grain is directly injured.
If you will select your seed from wheat
that fully matured and ripeneti in the
field, entirely free from rust, and will,
then treat it as described, you will stand
a fair chance of escaping rust, though
it frequently appears after every pains
has been taken to prevent it. —State.
Agricultural Department.
Dlneaseii Quinces.
Question. —Why is it that we so
rarely see a perfect quince these days?
I remember that in my youth this was
considered one of our most certain
fruits and the rows of quince trees in
my mother’s garden laden with the
heavy yellow fruit is still a pleasant
memory.
Answer.—Quinces, like many other
of our fruit trees, have been sadly neg
lected, and the insidious advances of
diseases have been scarcely noticed, un
til they have obtained such a firm foot
hold as to be very difficult of eradica
, cation. There are four diseases to which
. the quince is liable: The Leaf Blight
and Fruit Spot, the Quince Rust, the
Black Rot and the Twig Blight. The
I first attacks the fruit as well as foliage.
| and young quince trees in the nursery
■ are peculiarly liable to it The remedy
• is spraying with Bordeaux mixture.
The rust attacks the fruit, and unless
I the disease is checked, the young
1 quinces will be distorted and misshapen
long before they mature. The fungus
of this disease is communicated from
the “cedar apples” and “cedar balls”
so often seen on cedar trees, and if these
trees grow near a quince orchard they
should be destroyed. Spraying with
i fungicides may also be used with ad
vantage.
The Black Rust is more safely pre
. vented by clean culture than by fungi
cides, because the disease usually ap
pears when the fruit is reaching ma
turity, and the application of fungi
cides might b? attended with danger.
All rotting or mummified fruit should
be destroyed, and after tne crop is gath
ered late sprayings of ammoniacal solu
tion of copper carbonate will be bene
ficial
The Twig Blight very much resem
bles the Pear Blight. The branches turn
black, and should be cut off and burned
at once.—State Agricultural Depart
ment.
Soluble I’hosphorlo Aid.
Question. —In the analysis of fertil
izers, phosphoric acid is spoken of as
soluble, reverted, and insoluble. Please
give me a short explanation of these
terms.
Answer—The soluble phosphoric
acid in a fertilizer is that part that is
perfectly soluble in water and at once
ready for plant food. The reverted
phosphoric acid is that portion that
becomes soluble by the action of
water and the soil combined, and
it is therefore estimated as “avail
“ able” to the growing crop. The
insoluble is so difficult of solution that
it is regarded as of no benefit to a quick
growing crop, and is therefore consid
ered as having no value in a fertilizer. |
In an analysis of a fertilizer the “soln- j
i ble” aud the “reverted” are added to
gether and called “available phosphoric
i acid,” simply becaus? the crops can
speedily appropriate them.—State Agri
cultural Department.
Cutting Wheat and Oats.
Question.—Should oats and wheat
be cut before full maturity or not?
Answer.—Unless intended for seed
both wheat and oats should be cut before
j becoming fully ripe. By this plan you
save more of the grain, as there is no
■ loss from shattering. The straw is more
nutritious aud therefore more valuable
for feeding; and it is even claimed that
; the grain so saved contains m >re uutri
• tive qualities than when exposed longer
in the sun. When, however, the wheat
! or oats is to be used for seed let it get
. fully ripe before harvesting, even at
the expense of losing some of the grain
' by shattering and all of the straw for
feeding purposes.—State Agricultural
Department.