The Carrollton Chronicle (Carrollton, Tex.), Vol. 21, No. 40, Ed. 1 Friday, August 28, 1925 Page: 7 of 8
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ri.RROT.LTON CHRONICLE
& s Q a SO RTOs a s a
OOOOCOCXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXIO
HOW TO KEEP
WELL
Chapter XII
—15-
In town Dirk lived In r large front
room and alcove on the third floor of
« handsome old fashioned three-atory-
.and-lmsomont liount*. Hr used tin*
front room a* ■ living room, the alcove
■an a bedroom. He and Selina had fur
•ifthed It together, discarding alt of
<the room's orlglnul belongings except
the bed u table, and one tut comfort-
able faded old armchair whose brie
■cade surface hinted a past grandeur.
When he had got hi* hooka ranged In
•open shelves along one wall, soft-shad-
ed lamps on table and desk, the place
looked more thuo livable; lived In.
During the process of furnishing Se-
lina got Into the way of coming Into
town for a duy or two to prowl the
auction rooms and the second-hand
■Mores. She hud a genius for this sort
of thing; hated the splck-and-spuu var-
nish and veneer of the new furniture
to be got In the regular way.
She enjoyed these rare trips Into
♦own ; made a holiday of them. Dirk
would take her to the theater aud she
■would sit entranced Strangely enough,
•considering the lack of what the world
.calls romance and adventure In her
life, she did not like the motion pic-
tures. "All the difference In the world,''
■she would say. “between the movies
and the thrill 1 get out of a play at
the theater. My, yes! Like fooling
with paper dolls when you could be
playing with a real live bahy."
The duy was marvelously mild for
March In Chicago. Spring, usually so
coy In this region, had flung herself at
them hend first. As the massive re-
volving door of Dirk’s office building
fanned him Into the street lie saw
Paula In her long low sporting road-
■ter at the curb. She was dressed in
tdaek. All feminine fashionable and
middle-class Chicago was dressed In
black. All feminine fashionable and
middle-class America whs dressed in
black. Two years of war had robbed
Paris of Its husbands, brothers, sons.
All Paris walked In black. America,
tintouched, gayly borrowed the smart
habiliments of mourning and now
Michigan boulevard and Fifth avenue
walked demurely In the glootn of crepe
and chiffon; black hats, black gloves,
black slippers. Only blnck was "good"
this year.
Paula smiled up at hlin, patted the
Jeather seat beside her with one hand
that was absurdly thick-lingered In Its
fnr-lltied glove.
“It's cold driving. Button up tight.
■Where’ll we stop for your hag?"
He climbed Into the seat beside her.
Her manipulation of the wheel wus
witchcraft. The roadster slid In and
-out of traffic like a fluid thing, un
•enamel stream, silent as a swift cur-
rent In a river. When his house was
reached, “I'm coming up,” she said.
"1 suppose you haven’t any tea?"
"Gosh, no I What do you think 1
am I A young man In an English
novel I”
"Now, don’t be provincial and Chi-
■oagoish. Dlrk.“ They climbed the
three flights of stairs. She looked
about. Her glance was not disapprov-
ing. “This isn't so bad. Who did It?
She did! Very nice. But of course
you ought to have ‘your own smurt
little apurtment, with a .Tap to do you
np. To do that for you, for example."
“Yes," grimly. He was packing his
bag-—not throwing clothes Into It, but
folding them deftly, nently, as the son
•of a wise mother packs. “My aal-
«ary’d Just about keep him In white
linen house-coats."
“I’m going to send you some things
for your room, Dirk."
“For God’s sake don’t I"
"Why not?"
“Two kinds of women In the world.
I learned that at college. Those who
eend men things for their rooms und
those that don't."
“You’re very rude."
“You asked me. There! Pm all
net.” He snapped the lock of his hag.
"I'm sorry I can’t give you anything.
I haven’t a thing. Not even a glass of
wine and a—what Is It they say In
books?—oh, yeh—a biscuit."
In the roadster again Paula main-
tained a fierce and steady speed for
the remainder of the drive.
“We call the place Stormwood,"
Paula told him. "And nobody outside
the dear family knows how fitting that
Is. Don't scowl. Pm not golhg to tell
you my marital woeft. And don’t yeu
say I asked for It. . . . How’s the
Job?”
’•Rotten.”
“You don’t Ilk# It? The work?"
“I like It well enough, only—well,
yen see we leave the university archi-
tectural course thinking we’re all go-
ing to be Stanford Whites or Cass Gil-
berts, tossing off a Wool worth build-
ing and making ournelvea famous over-
night. I've spent all yesterday and tit-
day planning a drygoods box that’s
going up on the corner of Milwaukee
avenue and Ashland, west."
"And ten years from nowP’
"Ten yesrs from now maybe they'll
let me do the plans for the drygoods
box all alone."
“Why don’t you drop It?"
He was startled. "Drop It I How
do you mean?”
"Chuck It. Do something that will
bring you quick results. This Isn't an
age of waiting. Suppose, twenty years
from now, you do plan a grand Golfilc
office building to grace this new and
glorified Michigan boulevard they're
always shouting about! You’ll be a
mUldle-vged mnn living In a middle-
class louse in a middle-class suburb
with a rrlddte-clsss wife."
"Maybe’’-—slightly nettled.
r|itr -.tried Is at tii# gates of
By EDNA FERBER
<®. DoubUdajr, P»»* ft Co)
WNU Sarvlea.
Stormwood. A final turn of the drive.
An uvenuo of trees. A house, massive,
pillared, portlcoed. The door opened
as they drew up at the entrance. A
maid In cap and apron stood In the
doorway. A man appeared at the side
of the car, coming seemingly from no-
where, greeted Paula civilly and drove
the cur off. The glow of an open fire
in the hull welcomed them. "He’ll
bring up your bag," said Paula.
“How’re the birtdea, Annn? Ilus Mr.
Storm got here?"
“He telephoned, Mrs. Storm. He
says he won't be out till late—maybe
ten or after. Anyway, you’re not to
wait dinner'"
Paula, from being the limp, expert,
fearlesa driver of the high-powered
roadster wus now suddenly very much
the mistress of the house, quietly oh-
servant, giving an order with a lift
of the eyebrow or a nod of the head.
Would Dirk like to go to his room Ht
once? Dinner at seven-thirty. He
needn’t dress. Just us he liked. Ev-
erything was very Informal here.
They roughed It. (Dirk had counted
thirteen servants by noon next day
and hadn't been near the kitchen.)
He decided t# bathe and change Into
dinner clothes and wus glad of this
when he found Paula In black chiffon
before the fire in the great beamed
room she had called the llhrnry. Dirk
thought she looked very beautiful In
(hat diaphanous stuff, with the pearls.
Her heart-shaped face, with Its large
eyes that slanted a little at the cor-
ners ; her long slim throat; her dark
hair piled high and nway from her lit-
tle ears. He decided not to men-
tion It.
Dirk told himself thnt Panin had
known her husband would not be home
until ten and had deliberately planned
a tete-a-tete meal. He would not,
therefore, confess himself a little net-
tled when Paula said, "Pve asked the
Emerys In for dinner; and we’ll have
a game of bridge afterward. Phil
Emery, you know, the Third. He used
to have It on his visiting card, like
royalty."
The Emerys were drygoods; had
been drygoods for sixty yours; were
accounted Chicago aristocracy; pre-
ferred England: rode to hounds In pink
conts along Chicago's prim and startled
suburban prairies. They had a vast
estute on the lake near Stormwood.
They arrived a trifle late. Dirk had
seen pictures of old Phillip Emery
("Phillip the First," he thought, with
an Inward grin) und decided, looking
at the rather anemic third edition, that
the stock was running a little thin.
The dinner was delicious hot surpris-
ingly simple; little more than Selina
would have given him, Dirk thought,
hud he come home to the farm thla
week-end. The talk was desultory and
rather dull. And this chap had mil-
lions. Dirk said to himself. Millions.
No scratching In an architect s office
for this lad.
At bridge after dinner Phillip the
Third proved to be sufficiently the son
of his father to win from Dirk more
money than he could conveniently af-
ford to lose.
Theodore Storm came In nt ten and
stood watching them. When the guests
had left the three sat before the fire.
"Something to drink?” Storm usked
Dirk. Dirk refused but Storm mixed
a stiff highball for himself, and then
another. The whisky brought no flush
to his lnrge white Impassive face. He
talked almost not at' all. Dirk, nat-
urally silent, was loquacious by com-
parison. But while there was nothing
heavy, unvltat nbout Dirk’s silence, this
man’s wus oppressive, lrrliutlng. Ills
paunch, his large white hands, his
great white face gave the effect of
bleached bloodless bulk. "I don't see
how she stands him,” Dirk thought.
Husband and wife seemed to he on
terms of polite friendliness. Storm ex-
cused himself and took himself off
with a word about being tired, and
seeing them In the morning.
After he had gone: "He likes you,”
said Puula.
"Important," said Dirk, “If true."
“But It Is Important. He can help
you a lot.”
“Help me how? I don’t want—”
“But I do. I want you to be suc-
cessful. I want you to he. You can
be. You've got It written nil over
you. In the way ywi stand, and talk,
and don't talk. In the way you look
at poople. In something In the way
you I’urry yourself. It’s what they
call force, I suppose. Anyway, you’ve
got It.”
''Hna your husband got It?"
"Theodore! No! That ls—“
"There you are. I've got the force,
but he’s got the money."
“You can have both." She was
leaning forward. Her eyes were bright,
enormous. .Iler hands—those thin dark
hot hands—were twisted In her lap.
He looked at her quietly. Suddenly
there were tears In her eyes. “Don’t
look at me that way, Dirk." she
huddled back In her chnlr, limp. She
looked a little haggard and older,
somehow. "My marriage Is a mess,
of course. You cun see that."
"You knew It would be, didn't you?"
“No. Yes. Oh, I don’t know. Any-
way, what’s the difference, now? I’m
not trying to be what they call nn
Influence In your life. I’m Just fond
of you—you know that—and I want
you to he great and successful. It’s
maternal, I suppose.”
"I should think two babies would
satisfy that urge."
"Oh, I can’t get excited shout two
pink healthy lumpa of babies. I love
them und all that, but all they need Is
to have a bottle staffed Into their
mouths at proper Intervals und to be
buthed, and dreaaed and aired and
slept. It's a mechanical routine and
about na exciting hr a treadmill."
“Just what do you want me to do,
BaulaT
She was eager again, vitally con-
cerned in him. "It's all so ridiculous.
AM these men whose Incomes are thlr-
t.v—forty—sixty—a hundred thousand
a year usually haven't any qualities,
really, that the flve-thousand-a-year
man hasn’t. Homebody has to get the
fifty-thousand-dollar sulfides—some ad-
vertising man, or bond salesman or—
why, look at Phil Emery! He prob-
ably couldn't sell a yard of pink rib-
bon to a schoolgirl If he had to. Look
nt Theodore I He Just sits and blinks
and says nothing. But when the time
comes he doubles up his fat white fist
and mumbles, ‘Ten million,' or ‘Fif-
teen million,' ahd that settles It."
Dirk laughed to hide his own little
mounting sensation of excitement. "It
isn’t quite a* simple as that, I Imag-
ine. There’s more to It than meets
the eye.”
"There isn’t I I tell you I know the
whole crowd of them. I’ve been
brought up with this moneyed pack all
my life, haven’t I? Pork packers and
wheat grabbers and peddlers of gas
and electric light and dry goods.
Grandfather's the only one of the
crowd that I respect. He has stayed
the same. They can’t fool him. He
knows he Just happened to go Into
wholesale beef and pork when whole-
sale beef and pork was a new game
In Chicago. Now look at hitn!"
“Still, you will admit there’s some-
thing In knowing when," he argued.
Paula stood up. “If you don’t know
I’ll tell you. Now is when. I’ve got
Grandfather and Dad and Theodore to
work with. You cun go on being an
“I Used to Ride the Old Nage, Bare-
back, on the Farm.”
architect If you want to. It's a fine
enough profession. But unless you're
a genius where’ll It get you! Go In
with them, and Dirk, In live years—"
"What!’’ They were both stunding,
facing each other, she tense, eager; he
relaxed but stimulated.
“Try It and see what, will you?
Will you, Dirk?"
“I don’t know, Paula. I should sny,
my mother wouldn't think much of It."
“What does she know! Oh, I don't
mean that she Isn't a fine, wonderful
person. She Is. I love her. But suc-
cess ! She thinks success Is nnother
acre of asparagus or cabbage; or a
new stove In the kitchen now that
they’ve brought gas out us far as High
Prairie."
He hud a feeling thnt she possessed
him; that her hot eager hands held
him though they stood apart and eyed
each other almost hostllely.
As he undressed thut night he
thought, "Now what's her game?
What's she up to? Be careful, Dirk,
old boy."
As he lay In the soft bed with the
satin coverlet over hlin he thought,
“Now what's her little came!"
lie awoke at eight, enormously hun-
gry. lie wondered, unpaslly, Just how
he was going to get his breakfast.
She had said his breakfast would he
brought him In Ills room. He stretched
luxuriously, sprang up, turned on Ills
hath water, bathed. When lie emerged
In dressing gown and slippers Ills
breakfast trm.v bad been brought him
mysteriously and its contents lay ap-
petl/.lngly on a little portable table.
There were flocks of small covered
dishes and a charming Individual coffee
service. A little note from Paula:
"Would you like to take walk at about
half-past nine? Stroll down to the
stables. I want to show you my new
horse."
The distance from the house to the
stables was actually quite a brisk lit-
tle walk In Itself. Paula, In riding
clothes, was waiting for him.
She greeted him. ‘‘I've been out
two hours. Had my ride. You ride,
don't wax 1"
“l used to ride tlte old nugs, bure
back, on the furm."
"You’ll have to learn. Then I’ll
have some one to ride with me. Then
dore never rides. He never takes an]
sort of exercise, Hits In that great
fat car of hie."
They went Into the coach hones. «
great airy whitewashed place with
glittering burtieva end spun and
bridles like Jewels In glass cases. It
gave ldrk ft (title hopeless feeling. H«
had never before seen anything like
It.
Paula laughed up at him, her dark
fare upturned to his.
Homething had annoyed him, sht
saw. Would he wait while slit
changed to walking things? Or per-
haps he’d rather drive In the roudster.
They walked up to the house together
He wished thut she would not consult
hts wishes so anxiously. It made him
sulky, Impatient.
She put a hand on his arm. "Dirk,
are you annoyed ut me for what I said
Iasi night?"
’’No."
"What did yeu think when yon went
to your room last night? Tell me
Whut did you think?"
"I thought: ’She’s bored with het
husband and she’s trying to vamp me
I'll have to be careful.’ ”
Paula laughed delightedly. “That's
nice and frank . . . What else?"
"I thought my coat didn't lit very
well and I wished I could afford tr
have Peel make my next one."
“You can," said Puula.
Chapter XIII
As It turned out, Dirk was spared
the necessity of worrying nbout the til
of his next dinner coat for the fol-
lowing year and a half. His coat, dur-
Ing that period, was n neat olive drab
as wus that of some millions of young
men of his age, or thereabouts. Most
of that time he spent at Fort Sheridan,
first as an officer in training, then aa
nn officer training others to he officers.
He was excellent at this Job. Influ-
ence put him there und kept him there
even after he begun to chafe at the re-
straint.
In the iHSt six months of It (though
he did not, of course, know that It
was to be the last six months) Dirk
tried desperately to get to France. 1I«
was suddenly sick of the neat Job at
home; of the dinners; of the smug
routine; of the olive drab motor car
that whisked him wherever he wanted
to go (he had a captaincy); of mak-
ing them “snap Into It"; of Paula; of
his mother, even. Two months before
the wur's close he succeeded In getting
over; but Paris was his headquar-
ter*.
Between Dirk and his mother ths
first rift hnd appeared.
“If I were a man,’’ Selina said, “I’d
mnke up my mind straight about this
war and then I’d do one of two things.
I’d go into It the way Jan Snip goea
at forking the manure pile—u dirty
Job that’s got to he cleaned up; or I’d
refuse to do It altogether If I didn’t
believe in it ns a Job for me. I'd fight,
or I’fl be 'a conscientious objector.
There's nothing In between for any
one who Isn’t old or crippled, or sick."
Paula was aghast when she heard
this. So was Julie whose wnlllngs
had been loud when Eugene had gone
Into the air service. He was in Franco
now, thoroughly happy. “Do you
mean," demanded Paula, "that you ac-
tually want Dirk to go over there and
be wounded or killed!”
“No. If Dirk were killed my Ufa
would stop. I’d go on living, I suppose,
but my life would have stopped.”
They all were doing some share In
the work to he done.
Selina hnd thought nbout her own
place In this war welter. She hail
wanted to do canteen work In Franca
but hud decided against this as be-
ing selfish. “The thing for me to do,"
she said, "Is to go on raising vege-
tables and hogs ns fast as I can." Shu
supplied countless households with
free food while their men were gone.
She herself worked like a mnn, tak'
Ing the place of the able-bodied helper
who hnd been employed on her farm.
Paula was lovely In her Bed Cros«
uniform. She persuaded Dirk to go
Into the Liberty bond selling drive
and he was unexpectedly effective In
his quiet, serious way; most convinc-
ing and undeniably thrilling to look
nt In uniform. Paula's little air of pos-
session hnd grown until now It en
veloped him. She wasn’t playing now;
was deeply sad terribly In love with
him.
(TO BB CONTINUKD.)
Cost of “Lifting” Oil
The bureau of mines suya that from
20 to 110 per cent of the total cost of
producing petroleum may be charged
to lifting the oil. Although the lifting
coat ranges from less than three cents
a barrel nt flowing wclle, producing
several hundred barrels e dhy, to $:i
a barrel, ut wells producing less thn*
a fifth of a barrel a day, the lifting
cost per well may range from mors
than $1,000 at large flowing wells ot
the type recently discovered In Okla-
homa, Texas, Arkansas and California,
to less than $10 at many of the old
wells pumped only a few hours a week,
ns In most of the oil fields of New
York and Pennsylvania, where Ihf
average daily production per weil per
day Is Ress limn one-fourth of n barrel
Uncertain
1#«*—?vel?, nlo thing, are you eoi ,
tng to the Show t.-night?
Maxine- oh. I don’t thin.* so, uni**
-♦--
DR. FREDERICK R. GREEN
Editor of "HEALTH”
, COCOOOOOOCXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXi
(&, WfMlain S«w»pMi>er Union.)
CONCERNING FLEAS
—
ptIDDIN’ HEAD WILSON said thut
a oertuln amount of fleas ure good
for u dog. They keep him froui
| worryln’ over the fact thut lie Is a
dog. This muy be true of dogs but It
certainly isn't true of human beings.
Ficus are one of the most common
and annoying of Insect pests. To some
| persons who are especially susceptible,
I their bites Hre tior only Irritating hut
also actually poisonous. In an experi-
ment on eight persona, there was little
or no Irritation In seven, while In the
eighth person the flea bites caused
severe influmiuatlon.
But besides the annoyance caused by
their bites, fleas have of late years
been convicted us carriers of several
diseases, principally bubonic plague,
the Black Death, which bus repeated-
ly swept the eurth. During the Four-
teenth century, an epidemic In Europe
killed one-fourth of the population.
The great plague In London In 1065
nearly wiped out thut great city and
was only stopped by the gt t fire,
which burned so many old houses and
killed so many rats that the disease
was checked, after all other methods
of controlling it hod failed.
No one then suspected the rats awl
their fleas, though In all great epi-
demics ot this disease it had been no-
ticed that rats died by the thousands.
The rat flea Is the most dangerous,
but will not attack man until most of
the rats have been killed. The flea
I which most commonly attacks man Is
the dog flea, also frequently found on
cats.
A dog or cat Infested with fleas not
only scatters the live Ileus but also
the eggs, which the fleas lay und
which are not attached to the animal's
j hair. These eggs are about one-
j fiftieth of an Inch long and are
} a glistening pearly white. They
| fall on the carpet, on the pillows or
blankets and, In about two weeks,
hatch out Into full-grown fleas, which
at once attach themselves to any
warm-blooded animal they can find.
This umy be a dog, a cat, or a human
being.
To avoid fleas, keep animals out of
the house or wash them with strong
! flea soap. A 3 per cent solution of
J creolin Is good for dogs, but not for
! cats, as pussy licks herself and may
; easily he poisoned by creolin., Py-
rethrum powder, dusted on freely and
then brushed out, Is best for her. If
the house Is Infested, clean one room
{ at a time by scattering five pounds of
naphthalene on the floor and closing
the room for 24 hours.
DOES ALCOHOL SHORTEN
LIFE?
"PROBABLY no question since slav-
! A ery jays has aroused so much dis-
cussion as prohibition. This Is not
( strange. Prohibition Is not only a
! question which affects the personal
I habits of millions of Individuals, but
It Is also a many-sided problem. It Is
| a legal question, a political issue, a
scientific problem and a social experl-
j ment. Many men of many minds have
j widely different views on the various
| angles presented.
On the scientific questions Involved
equally weighty authorities differ
) Widely. Is alcohol a food or a poison?
! What effect does drinking alcoholic
beverages have on the human body?
There is conflicting evidence on both
sides. t
Experimentally, the evidence Is
equally confusing. One day, our news-
papers will contain a story of a hale
and hearty old man who has Just cele-
brated his one-hundredth birthday, and
attributes his long and healthy life to
the fact that he has never touched
alcohol. The next day. the same pa-
pers will record the life history of an
equally old and vigorous mnn who Is
sure his advanced years and perfect
physical condition are due to his hav-
ing taken, all Tils life, a drink when-
ever he felt like It, or could get It.
“So there ye air," as Mr. Dooley
would sny. What Is the truth? Pilate
naked the same question two thousand
years ago, and It has never been un-
swered.
But If you want the opinion of the
business world, that looks nt all ques-
tions from a cold, practical viewpoint,
you enn get a very positive answer.
No railroad will employ or retain nn
engineer or conductor who drinks even
moderately. One of our greatest rail-
roads has notified Its employees that
any engineer who even enters a sn-
I loon (If there are rp.v left to enter) '
will he discharged. Scientists and re-
formers an<l politicians and executive* I
and social workers nnd advocates of |
social liberty can go on discussing the j
many question* Involved as long as
they like. Hard-headed business men,
whose money Is Invested In the man 1
agement of big enterprises, don’t want
any man around who drinks.
Life Insurance companies nre net
generally regarded ns sentimental
Thirty yenrs ago, n Scotch Insurance
company decided that drinkers must
pay a higher premium limn nomlrlnk- |
ers. Keeping the two classes of pnl- I
ley holders separate. It hns been found
that the death rate of even moderate
drinkers Is 30 per rent higher than
totul abstainers. Four other compa-
nies have found thnt deaths among {
drinkers nre from 21) to 40 per cent i
higher than among nondrinker*.
So again, as Mr. Dooley says, “Them j
7« air."
mm
GRAIN PROPORTION
LOWER IN SUMMER
Although equal parts of mash and
grain are often recommended, it Is not
desirable to hold to any such arbitrary
figures. It Is desirable, however, to
know what proportion la being con-
sumed ho that production may he
somewhat regulated. During warm
seasons the proportion of grain should
naturull.v he lower than in winter ns
less sugars, starches und fat are need-
ed for body warmth.
When egg production und health are
satisfactory It Is wise to let well
enough ulone regardless of whether
more grain or more mush Is being con-
aumed. If production und consumption
of tnnsh are both low, the trouble may
luy In too much grain being fed, or In
an unappetizing mash. If the birds
ure poor In flesh and subject to colds,
the feeding of more grain Is usually
the correct procedure.
Feeding wet mush Instend of dry
mush Is occasionally practiced with
success by skilled feeders. Because
there is considerable risk of overfeed-
ing by this method, nnd because no
better results ure secured for the time
expended, wet-mash feeding is not
recommended as u substitute for hop-
per feeding of dry mash.
Wet mash In addition to hopper
feeding throughout the year is usually
unnecessary and dangerous in the
hands of the average feeder. This
practice Is probably desirable and to
he advocated from July 1 to Septem-
ber 1 to postpone the moult, and on
slow-maturing pullets In the fall. Three
quarts before wetting to 100 birds Is
sufficient. Feed mush at noon, so that
It cun he gradually discontinued when
the desired results have been secured
without upsetting the regular feeding
schedule.—O. O. Krum, Extension
Service, Colorado Agricultural Cot
lege.
Promoting Chick Growth
by the Use of Sunlight
Direct sunlight as an essential in
promoting growth In chicks and In pre-
venting the development of leg weak-
ness bus been proved by recent experi-
ments Just announced by the poultry
department of the State College of
Agriculture, New Brunswick, N. J.
One thousand chicks kept under
glass weighed only one-fourth pound
at the end of 12 weeks, whereas 200
chicks of the same age, but kept out-
doors- In direct sunlight averaged one
and one-half pounds each.
Cod liver oil has for some time been
considered nn effective growth stimu-
lator nnd preventive of leg weakness,
so the truth of this was also investi-
gated by the experimenters. Of the
chicks under glass 800 were fed vary-
ing amounts of the oil. At the end of
12 weeks they were no more thrifty
than those receiving no oil. After the
fifth week leg weakness began to ap-
pear among all of the birds under
glass, whether they were being fed
rod liver oil or not. In contrust with
this the chicks kept in direct sunlight
showed no leg weokness at all.
The combination of direct sunlight
and cod liver also was tried by the
experiment station. Using 200 chicks
and feeding oil equivalent In weight
to 1 per cent of the ration, It found
that nn averuge weight of one and
three-fourths pounds per chick had
been attained. This was one-fourth-
pound more thnn the weight of the
chicks getting sunlight but no oil.
It was found that chicks kept be-
hind glass nnd developing leg weak-
ness could be cured by a half-hour exz
posure to sunlight on four days.
Value of Limestone and
Oyster Shell for Hens
According to Maryland Bulletin 244,
"a crushing test of eggs laid by oyster-
sholl-fed and limestone-fed hens
showed no appreciable difference In
the strength of shell,
“There was practically no difference
In the thickness of shell of production
In the limestone pen.
"The consumption of limestone per
bird was much loss than the consump-
tion of oyster shell even though there
was a greater egg production in the
limestone pen.
"This test would Indicate that lime-
stone can be safely used as the sole
source of supply of material for egg-
shell making with laying hens."
When to Fatten Turkeys
During the summer and early fall
turkeys enn find an abundance of feed
on the average farm. About October
1, It I* advisable to begin fattening
them for market, giving only a little
feed nt first and gradually Increasing
tills until the birds are marketed. The
marketing season for turkeys Is very
short, running only from the middle
of November to the Intter part of De-
cember.
Kill Lice on Fowls
U**> either sodium fluoride or bine
ointment to get rift of lice on poultry.
Of tlie former It will require 1 pound
for each 100 hens. Use the "pinch"
method, which Is to take n pinch of
the powder nnd ruh Into various part*
of the body. The blue ointment Is ap-
plied In similar places, being ruhhfC
Into the skin well. Mix the ointment
with equal parts lard and divide Into
pieces the size of n small garden pea..
Keep awuy from children, as It h} g
poison •
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Whitmore, R. J. The Carrollton Chronicle (Carrollton, Tex.), Vol. 21, No. 40, Ed. 1 Friday, August 28, 1925, newspaper, August 28, 1925; (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth592020/m1/7/: accessed July 17, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Carrollton Public Library.