The Lampasas Daily Leader (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. 31, No. 212, Ed. 1 Friday, November 9, 1934 Page: 2 of 4
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THE LAMPASAS LEADER
LIKE GRADING PLAN
IN MARKETING EGGS
More Careful Practices Are
Found Profitable.
By ft. E. Cray. Poultry Extension Specialist.
Ohio State University.—JWNU Service.
Each year more eggs are marketed
on a graded basis. Along with this
trend it Is noticeable that poultrymen
are taking better care of their eggs.
And we are finding that the farm prac-
tices leading to better quality are no
more difiicult to follow than many of
the practices now in vogue that lead
to poorer quality.
Eggs, tike milk, deteriorate. Be
cause the egg comes in a sealed pack-
age, and its appearance seems much
the same whether kept under good
conditions or poor conditions, farmers
have come more slowly to those prac-
tices that make for quality.
Here are the four practices poultry-
men say lead to good quality:
Remove all cockerels from the
dock as soon as the breeding season is
ended.
Use good laying ration. It happens
that the best laying rations also are
proving to be die rations that give
quality and, when the eggs are fertile,
hatchability.
Produce mean eggs, by using good
litter in nests, on the floor, and cov-
ering dropping boards with wire net-
ting.
Gather eggs frequently. One poul-
tryman reports saving time by gather-
ing four times a day. He had less
washing to do, he explained.
Guinea Fowls Marketed
Like Other Game Birds
The marketing season for guinea
fowls is during the latter part of the
summer and throughout the fail. At
this time the demand In the city mar-
kets is for young birds weighing from
one to two pounds each. As the sea-
son advances, the demand is for
heavier birds.
Guineas are marketed as game birds
and, like game birds, are usually sold
on the market unplucked, although
hotels and restaurants buy them
plucked. There are three varieties of
guineas, white, pearl, and lavender,
and although they were probably one
of th-e earliest domesticated fowls, they
still retain many of their wild char-
acteristics. They can be raised prof-
itably on most farms where the young
birds are allowed to range, picking up
waste grain and insects.—Missouri
Farmer.
Warns Poultrymen on Iodine
Because production of eggs with a
high iodine content is quite easy, and
lately has become somewhat of a fad,
California poultrymen have been ad-
vised by Dr. H. J. Almquist, research
assistant in poultry husbandry, Uni-
versity of California, to proceed cau-
tiously along this line. “The principle
guiding much of this work,” he said,
“seems to be that, if a small amount
of iodine in eggs is desirable, a large
dose of it would he much better. This
is following the same rule which
caused the Indian buck to kill himself
with cough medicine.” Minimum and
maximum iodine requirements of lay-
ing -birds and growing chicks, accord-
ing to Doctor Almquist, are not known,
and until! they are, considerable cau-
tion in. the use of iodine supplements
Is to be recommended, he said.
Watch the Water Supply
Water fountains for poultry are
often counted expensive appliances.
Those who keep only a small flock
are apt to think ordinary open vessels
which can be bought for a small frac-
tion of their cost will do as well. The
great advantage of the fountain is
that it keeps the water much longer
at the temperature it was when put
in, and that in summer there is very
little evaporation from it. On a hot,
dry day water will evaporate from
open drinking vessels so fast that
they may be dry long before the time
when they are usually refilled. Where
the attendant Is away from home all
day, the consequence is that the birds
are without water when they need it
most.
Poultry Affairs
Poultry houses should be ventilated
at the top.
* • *
Poultrymen have foufid it costa Just
as much to Feed a nontaying hen as It
does a high producer.
* * *
The good layer has a long, slightly
curved keel, a deep abdomen and
foody, a broad, straight, smooth back,
good chest development, straight
sides, with the width carried back
from the hip bone to the stern.
• * *
Most of the hens In a flock can be
kept in laying until (ate fall, when
they should be allowed to rest about
six weeks.
* • *>
Fellow corn is much more valuable
for scratch feed than white corn. It
contains vitamin A which Is so nec-
essary for poultry growth.
• * *
Poultry experts have found that
fowl pox. commonly known as “sore-
head,” Is caused by a microscopic
germ affecting the skin and mucotia
membranes of the fowls.
Grazing Woodlands
Harms Trees, Cows
3-Year Experiment Shows
Practice Far From the
Best Judgment.
By F. W. Dean, Extension Specialist tn
Forestry. Ohio State University.—
WNU Service.
Not only does the woodlot suffer, but
the cow’s suffer, too, when woods are
pastured. This is a conclusion
reached after three years of experi-
mentation in Indiana.
When two, four, or even six acres
of woodlot pasture Were allowed for
each animal unit, and no outside range
provided, the cows in the experiment
lost weight rapidly and had to be
moved to other range.
Effects noted upon the woodlot were
destruction of the young trees, dam-
age to the roots of the older trees,
hard-packing of the soil, and disap-
pearance of moisture-conserving layers
of leaf mold. Many farmers have ob-
served these effects and have fenced
their woods area from their pasture.
According to the last census, how-
ever. over 70 per cent of the farm
woods in Ohio are grazed by live stock.
Of the total pasture acreage in the
state, eight million acres, fully two
million acres are woodlands.
With the removal from cultivation
of a half million acres of crop land,
through the adjustment programs, that
amount of land is available for graz-
ing, relieving much of our woodlands
from serving double duty as woodlot
and pasture.
Buckwheat Is Not Good
Feed for Fattening Flogs
Unless buckwheat should become
much cheaper than the price of corn,
it cannot be highly recommended to
farmers as a fattening feed for hogs,
says W. E. Carroll, chief in swine
husbandry at the College of Agricul-
ture, University of Illinois,
If, however, the market price of
buckwheat should fall materially be-
low that of corn, it might be fed In
limited quantities, but never more
than one-fourth to one-third of the
hogs’ rations. Such a reduction in
the price of buckwheat is considered
quite improbable, and farmers with
this small grain In their granaries will
generally find it more profitable to sell
the buckwheat and buy corn for their
hogs. In fact there has been less than
60,000 bushels of buckwheat produced
annually in Illinois during the past
three years.
In composition buckwheat resembles
oats more closely than it does any of
the other more common grains, ex-
plains CarroiL This fact alone sug-
gests that it should not be used ex-
tensively as a hog feed unless it is
cheaper pound for pound than corn.
Likewise, because it contains more
than 10 per cent crude fiber, its ex-
tensive use will tend to produce slow-
er gains and in the end will add to the
production cost of the hogs. Heavy
feeding of buckwheat is also credited
with producing pork of poor quality,
although if used in moderation this
difficulty should not be encountered.
How to Inoculate Land
for Growing of Alfalfa
A good crop of sweet' clover, Burr
clover or Black medic grown within
the past three to five years is suffi-
cient inoculation for most soils, says
an authority at the North Carolina
State college. Where these crops have
not been grown, soil from a field that
has been planted to them may be used.
From 200 to 400 pounds of this soil
should be applied to each acre 6f land
seeded to alfalfa. Dampen the seed
with a mixture of equal parts ^of water
end molasses and sift on a small quan-
tity of the soil from the inoculated
field. Stir the seed until they are well
coated with the soil. Commercial in-
oculating materials may also be used
If inoculated soil is not available.
Denmark, Butter Country
In the Nineteenth century the Danes
excelled in the art of butter-making,
though history relates they imported
their dairy maids from the Nether-
lands. Danish butter has long occu-
pied a foremost place. Denmark is
the leading butter-exporting country
of the world. And, too, in the United
States the production of butter has
made rapid growth since the intro-
duction of the creamery system. It
exceeds over two billion pounds a.
year.
Make Woodlands Pay
Farmers and others who have a
“woodlot" will find it worth while to
treat it Just as they would treat other
land and make it pity its way as far
as possible. Any amount of work can
be put onto woodlands, in trimming
the poor trees out and giving the good
ones a chance to develop, burning the
brush and undergrowth at the proper
time, keeping out fires that will de-
stroy the timber and otherwise caring
for it
The Wheat Supply
The experts of the bureau of agri-
cultural economics have concluded
that the drouth has not endangered
the food supply. In a normal year the
people of the United States eat, or
feed to animals, and save for seed for
the next year’s crop, 625,000,000 bush-
els of wheat. With a carry-over of
some 260,000,000 bushels and a pro-
duction which certainly cannot fall be-
low 520,000,000 bushels, there will be
plenty of wheat for normal consump-
tion.
CHAPTER XII—Continued
—12—
Tiie instinct of the horses had
guided them to halt behind the only
safe spot on the unsafe bank. Jim
removed their packs, leaving the sad-
dles on. Without hesitation he poured
out all of the grain, about two quarts
i for each horse. Lastly he jammed the
packs under the edge of the boulders
and left the horses free to take care
of themselves.
He dreaded the coming hours—the
night-—the—he knew not what.
Jim removed his slicker and folded
it into a long pad. As he crept closer
the girl stirred again and spoke. He
thought she asked if he was there.
He placed the slicker in the best avail-
able place and covered that with the
drier of the two saddle blankets. He
pulled the saddle closer. Then he
lifted the girl over his lap and covered
her with the dry blanket He leaned
back against the stone with her head
on his shoulder and his arm support-
ing her. It was not only that he want-
ed to keep her dry and warm: he had
to have her in his arms while he
waited for the nameless terror he
anticipated.
This was the climax of the storm
that had been gathering for days. <*.it
upon the level desert it would have
been serious for travelers; here in this
gorge it was a maelstrom. Jim did
not expect to live to hear it pass away.
Yet he did. And then began the after-
math of a flood let loose upon such
unstable parth. The waterfall grad-
ually rose to a thundering, continuous
crash. It dominated for a while, until
the thousand streams from above
poured over the rims to deaden all, to
completely deafen Jim.
A shees of water, sliding over the
rock, hid the opaque blackness from
Jim’s eyes. Any moment now a flood
would rii^e over the bank, and when it
did Jim meant to climb higher with
the girl, to front the hurtling rocks
and slipping sides, and fight till the
bitter end.
But many changes as the hours
brought, that flood did not rise above
the bank. Jim saw the sheet of wa-
ter fall and the black space of gorge
again. He heard the avalanches
and the great single bowlders come
down, and the furious backlash of the
torrent below, and the lessening roar
of the waterfall.
The time came to Jim, as if he
dreamed, when all sounds changed,
lessened, faded away, except the pe-
culiar thrashing of the stream below.
And he.got to listening for that sound,
which occurred only occasionally. For-
a while the sliding rush of heavy wa-
ter swept on, suddenly to change into
a furious splashing.
At length Jim calculated It was a
strong current laden with sand, which
at times caused billows to rise and
lash their twisting tips back upon
themselves. Long he heard these
slowly diminishing, gradually separat-
ing sounds.
The streams ceased flowing, the
slides ceased slipping, the rocks ceased
rolling and the waterfall failed from a
thundering to a hollow roar and from
that to a softening splash.
Jim imagined he saw dim stars out
in a void that seemed to change from
black to gray. Was dawn at hand?
Had they been spared? The gurgle of
the stream below merged into the dis-
tant, low rumble of the Dirty Devil.
Jim rested there, staring out at the
spectral forms on the opposite wall,
thinking thoughts never before inhab-
itants of his confused brain.
But the sky was graying, the gorge
taking shape in the gloom, and this
place which had heard a din of hide-
ous sounds was silent as a grave.
At last Jim had to accept a mar-
velous phenomenon—dawn was at
hand. Gently he slipped Helen into
the hollow of the saddle. She was
still asleep. His cramped limbs buck-
led under him and excruciating pains
shot through his bones and muscles.
In the gray light objects were dis-
cernible. He could not see to the head
of the gorge, where the waterfall had
plunged out from the wall. But si-
lence meant that It had been surface
water, a product of the storm, and it
was gone. Beneath the bank ran a
channel‘of tine-ribbed sand where not
even a puddle showed. On the bank
the horses stood patiently, except Bay,
and he was nosing around for a blade
of grass that did not exist on the sod-
den earth. The great slope appeared
the same and yet not the same. A
m,ute acceptance of ultimate destruc-
tion hovered over it.
Sunrise found Jim Wall topping a
rise of rocky ground miles beyond the
scene of his night vigil. Again he fol-
lowed his sure-footed lead pack horse.
The sky was blue, the sun bright
and warm, and at the moment It
crowned with gold the top of the pur-
ple butte Jim had seen twice before.
It appeared close now, rearing a cor-
rugated peak above yellow and brown
hills. Jlre was currying Helen in front
of him. Conscious, but too spent to
speak or move, she lay back on his
arm and watched him.
There had been a trail along here
once, as was proved by a depressed
line on the gravelly earth. When Jim
surmounted this barren divide he sud-
denly was confronted by an amazing
and marvelous spectacle.
“Blue valley!" he ejaculated.
“Blue valley! . . . Helen, we’re out
of the brakes! . . . Safe! Men live
here.”
She heard him, for she smiled up
into his face, glad for his sake, but in
her exhaustion beyond caring for her
own.
There was no sign of habitation, nor
any smoke. But Jim knew this was
Blue valley. It was long, perhaps fif-
teen miles, and probably the farms
were located at the head, where Irri-
gation had been possible. How could
even pioneers utilize that ferocious
river?
Jim followed the lead pack horse
down into gumbo mud. The floor of
the valley supported a mass of foliage
besides the stately cottonwoods. And
at every step a horse’s hoof sank
deep, to come fortii with a huge cake
of mud.
At midday Jim passed deserted cab-
ins, some on one side of the river,
some on the other. They did not ap-
pear so old, yet they were not new.
Had Blue valley been abandoned? Jim
was convinced it could not be so. But
when he espied a deserted church,
with vacant eye-like windows, then
his heart sank; Helen must have rest,
care, food. He was at the end of his
resources.
An hour later he toiled past a shack
built of logs and stones, and adjoin-
ing a dugout, set into the hill. People
had lived there once, but long ago.
Jim’s last hope fled. He was still
far from the head of the valley, but
Jim Hurried On to the Porch and
Laid Helen on the Bed.
apparently he had left the zone of hab-
itation behind.
The afternoon waned. The horses
plodded on, slower and slower, wear-
ing to exhaustion. Helen was a dead
weight. Despair had seized upon him
when he turned a yellow corner be-
tween the slope and the cottonwoods,
to be confronted by a wide pasture at
the end of which a log cabin nestled
among cottonwoods. A column of blue
smoke rose lazily against the foliage.
The horses labored out of the mud
to higher ground. Jim rode up to the
cabin. Never in all his life had he
been so glad to smell smoke, to see a
garden, to hear a dog bark. His ever-
quick eye caught sight of a man who
had evidently been watching, for he
stepped out on the porch, rifle in hand.
Jim kept on to the barred gate. There
were flowers in the yard and vines on
the cabin—proof of feminine hands.
And he saw a bed on the porch.
“Hello,” he shouted, as he got off
carefully, needing both hands to han-
dle Helen.
“Hullo, yourself,” called the man,
who was apparently curious, but not
unfriendly. Then as Jim let down a
bar of the gate with his foot, this
resident of Blue valley leaned his rifle
against the wall and called to some
one within.
CHAPTER XIII
Jim hurried on to the porch and
laid Helen on the bed. She was so ex-
hausted that she could not speak, bur
she smiled at Jim. Her plight was evi-
dent. Then Jim straightened up to
look at the man.
His swift gaze, never so penetrating,
fell upon a sturdy individual of mid-
dle age—a typical pioneer, still-faced
and bearded. The instant Jim looked
into the blue eyes, mildly curious, he
knew that whoever the man was he
had not heard of the abduction of
Herrick’s sister.
“Howdy, stranger.”
“My name’s Wall,” said Jim In reply,
slowly seeking for words.
“Mine’s Tasker. Whar you from?”
“Durango. . . . My—my wife and I
got lost. She wasn’t strong. She gave
out. I’m afraid she’s In bad shape.”
“She shore looks bad. But the Lord
is good. It’s only she’s tuckered out.”
“What place Is this?”
“Blue valley. I’ve stuck it out But
I’ll be givln’ up soon. No use tryin’
to fight thet Dirty Devil river. Five
years ago there was eighty people liv-
in’ hyar. Blue valley has a story,
friend—”
“One I’d be glad to hear," inter-
rupted Jim. “Will you help me? I
have money and can pay you.'’
“Stay an’ welcome, friend. An kc-p
your money. Me an- m.v women folks
ask nothin’ fer good will toward those
in need."
“Thank you." Jim replied, huskily.
“Will you call them to look after my—
my wife?”
Helen was staring up at Jim with
wondering; troubled eyes.
“Is everything all right?” she asked,
faintly.
“Yes, if to find friends an’ care is
that,” replied the rancher, kindly.
Then he stepped to the door to call
within. “Mary, this rider was not
alone. It was his wife he was car-
ryin’. They got lost in the brakes an!
she gave out. We must take them in.”
That night, after the good ranchers
assured Jim that Helen was just worn
out Jim went to sleep under the cot-
tonwoods and never moved for seven-
teen hours.
Helen sat up the second day, white
and shaky indeed but recovering with
a promise that augured well. Her eyes
hung upon Jim with a mute observ-
ance.
Next morning while the women
were at work ir^ the fields and Tasker
was away somewhere Jim approached
Helen on the porch. Her hair, once
again under care, shone like burnished
gold.
“Well, you look wonderful this morn-
ing,” he said. “We must begin to
think of getting away.”
“Oh, I’m able to start.”
“We mustn’t overdo it. Tomorrow,
perhaps. And then if we’re lucky, in
three days you’ll be back at Star
ranch. . . . And I—”
His evident depression, as/ he broke
off, checked her vivid gladness.
“You will never go back to—to your
old life?” she questioned quickly.
“No, so help me, God ! This T owe
to you alone, Helen. It will be pos-
sible now for me even to bt happy.
But enough of .myself, I have traded
two of the horses for Tasker’s light
wagon. I will take you to the stage
line and soon you will be at Grand
Junction.”
Jim ceased. Her hands slipped from
her eyes, to expose them wide, filmed
with tears, through which shone that
which made him flee.
“WTait—please wait!” she called after
him, as he made with giant strides for
the gate. But he did not go back.
In a moonlit hour that night, late,
when the good Taskers had gone to
well-earned rest, Jim heard his name
called. He ran with swift, noiseless
feet to Helen’s bedside.
“You did not come back,” she whis-
pered. “I cannot sleep. . . . There is
something I—want to say.”
He sat down upon the bedside and
clasped her hand in his. *
“Is your real name Jim Wall?” sha
asked, with more composure.
“No. I will tell it if you wish.”
“Are you a free man?”
“Free. What do you mean? Yes,
free—of course!”
“You called me your—your wife to
these kind people.”
“I thought that best. They would b«
less curious.”
“I was not offended—and I under-
stood. ... I want you to go back to
Star ranch with me.”
“You ask me—that!" he exclaimed
incredulously.
“Yes, I do.”
“But you will be perfectly Bafe.
Some one will, drive you from Grand
Junction.”
“Perhaps. Only I’ll never feel safe
again—unless you are near. I’ve had
too great a shock, Jim. I suppose one
of your western girls could have stood
this adventure. But this was my first
rough experience. It \Vas a—a little
too much.”
“I can never go back to Star ranch,”
he replied, gravely.
“Why not? Because you are—you
were a member of a robber gang? I
had an ancestor who was a robber
baron.”
“That’s not the reason,* he said.
“What is it—then?”
“If I leave you now—soon as I’ve
placed you in good hands—I can ride
off in peace—go to Arizona, or some-
where and be a cowboy—and be happy
In the memory of having served you
and loved you—and through that hav-
ing turned my back on the old life.
. . . But if I went back to Star ranch
—to see you every day—to—to—”
“To ride with me,” she interfered,
softly.
“Yes—to ride with you,” he went on
hoarsely. “That’d be like what you
called your rough experience—a little
too much. It would be terribly too
much. I’m only human.”
“Faint heart never won fair lady,”
she whispered, averting her face and
withdrawing her hand. “Jim, I believe
if I were you, I’d risk It.”
Jim gazed down at the cleur-cut
profile, at the shadowed eyes, lialr sil-
vered in the moonlight; then, stricken
and mute, he rushed away.
Before dawn Jim had beaten his
vain and exalted consciousness Into a
conviction that the heaven Helen hint-
ed at for him was the generosity of a
woman’s heart. She could not yet be
wholly herself. He must not take ad-
vantage of that. But to reassure her
he decided he would conduct her to
Star ranch, careful never to reopen
that delicate and impossible subject,
and after she was safely there and
all was well he would ride away In
the night, letting his silence speak his
farewell.
At sunrise JIui acquainted Tasker
with his desire to leave for Torrey.
At breakfast and In the bustle of
departure he was sure Helen felt
something aloof and strange In him,
and he dared not meet her thoughtful
eyes.
TO BE CONTINUED.
Town I* Narrow
Marshall, N. C., built on a shelf
between mountain bluffs and the
French Broad river, is so narrow that
only one street extends the length of
the city.
AN EYE TO THE FUTURE
A touring a'ctor entered a tailor's
shop and gave an order for a suit. He
took home a small pattern of the ma-
terial and showed it to his son.
“What do you think of it, Tommy?”
tie asked.
j “Not bad,” Tommy replied,
j “Why, you’re looking at the wrong
side,” added the actor.
VI know I am,” the boy replied, “but
that’s the side I shall have to wear
when the suit is handed down to me.”
THATS THAT
Mrs. Scrapp—I have a mind of my
own.
Mr. Scrapp—Don’t worry about any-
body laying claim .to it.
It Hurt.!
First Woman—Well, I must be off.
I’ve an appointment with mother.
Second Woman (giving an aston-
ished laugh)—My dear, is it possible
that you have a mother living?
First Woman (laughing in her turn)
—Yes, oh, yes. And do you^know, I
don’t believe she looks a day older
than you.
Hunger I. a Fine Sauce
“What are you going to have for
ireakfast, dear?”
“Pawncakes,”
“Why the English pronunciation?
Fou mean ‘pancakes,’ don’t you?”
“No, I had to pawn a bracelet to
buy the flour!”
Dentist Rivalry
Dentist—My method of extraction is
go painless that patients have gone to
sleep in the chair.
Colleague—Mine is so painless and
pleasant that patients ask to be pho-
tographed during extraction because
they look their nicest
Poor Ivanhoa
First Scholar—What part of the
body is the fray?
Second Scholar—Fray? What are
you talking about?
First Scholar—This book says that
Ivanhoe was wounded in the fray.
One Version of It
“Why have you your arm in a sling?”
“Well, I went riding last Sunday and
by accident dismounted first with my
hands and then with my feet”
A HOT ONE
Emphatic Man—When I say a thing
I mean it
The Woman—But sometimes that
only makes it worse!
Hi. Only Worry
“Don’t you sometimes fear that you
have more than your share of wealth?”
“No,” said Dustin Stax. “It’s the
possibility of getting less than my
share that worries me.^
Explained
Diner—Here, waiter, I’ve found a
hook and eye in this chicken salad.
How do you explain that?
Waiter—It’s part of the dressing,
sah.—Pathfinder Magazine,
Old Song.
“Do you enjoy the old songs?”
“Not much,” answered Miss Cayenne.
They remind me of dear old friends
and I can’t imagine how they could
have been so silly as to sing some of
them.”
A Gallant Fellow
Her Mother—Why don’t you yawn
when he stays too long? Then he’ll
take the hint and go.
Daughter—I did yawn—and all he
did was to tell me what beautiful
teeth I had.—Pathfinder Magazine.
It Worked
“Once a friend of mine and I agreed
that it would be helpful for each of
us to tell the other all oqr faults.”
"How did It work?”
“We haven’t spoken for five years.”
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The Lampasas Daily Leader (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. 31, No. 212, Ed. 1 Friday, November 9, 1934, newspaper, November 9, 1934; Lampasas, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth897619/m1/2/: accessed June 29, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Lampasas Public Library.