The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa on March 6, 1895 · Page 3
Get access to this page with a Free Trial
Click to view larger version

The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa · Page 3

Publication:
Location:
Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, March 6, 1895
Page:
Page 3
Cancel
Start Free Trial

Page 3 article text (OCR)

OPYRIGHT i&9£ fey THE SEPtBLtCAN, 10 WA, WEDNESDAY, MARCH ft, CMAPfiSB Vtll Mr. Brown had obediently taken from the depths of a convenient pocket a bundle of gloves, which combined a rainbow of- delicate tints, varying from violet, lemon color, the blue of a robin's egg, to velvety black, and the owner bestowed her gift with careless good humor. Left nlone, after murmuring some •confused words of thanks, Dolores contemplated her first pair of fresh gloves with an ecstasy of feminine contentment impossible to describe. How beautiful they were, of a texture like a roseleafl How deliciously they were scented with some unfamiliar perfume, which may have represented the first, subtle odor of a perfected refinement of civilization to the awakening senses of the girl! She seated herself with the poodle on her lap, stripped off the old gloves ungratefully, casting them down ut her feet, and assumed the new ones. Then she rose, and glanced about her, irresolutely. Unfamiliar with the mansion, she sought Lieut. Curzon on every side, with her glance. He had promised to wait for her and conduct her to the ballroom. Tiresome, Florio must first be given to grandpapa. She went on to the next room of the suite, bewildered by her interview with the singer. In the second apartment a lady had paused to button her glove. She glanced up, recognized Dolores, ^nd came swiftly toward her. She wielded no fairy wand wherewith to further embellish the poor, little maiden admitted to this paradise of "THIS IS YOUR WAY OUT. revelry. Instead, her blue eyes dwelt with an expression of wounding disapproval on the flimsy, pink ribbon encircling the golden-brown throat, and,; tne coarso texture of the dress. The glance was one to coldly discern defects in other women rather than charms, Miss Ethel Symthe. in a robe of pure, .white silk, subtly interwoven with glittering 1 silver, which shone like ; dja,inond dust scattered over snow, inspired fear, a chilling dread in the soul of Dolores, as fahe looked at her. Why? What had she clone amiss? The irrepressible flash of jealousy and irritation in the blue eyes of Diana may have be^n the annihilating ray launched at a rival, the obstacle in the path, since the day of Queen E] can ore and the fair Rosajnund. Miss Symthe h-!,d not failed to remark the folly of mankind, as evinced by Capt. Blake, and even the Ancient Mariner, Capt, \EUlingham, in lingering near the . Phoenician O f the tableau. The anxiety and abstraction of Arthur , Curzon had inspired in her secret •uneasiness and suspicion,. Where h,»d he found Dolores? Why was he so g'qlicitons'about her ppse and accessories in the scene? Fate having delivered the innocent culprit into her hands, this daughter of her century rt decided to 4 isppse pf her in summary fashion, J »(jpod-bye," she said with a haughty ,,bpw, "Yon'tire going 1 away npy/, I - Suppose. Mrs, Griffith is tpp b^gy to see. ypu again, I fancy, put it 4pee BQt '" as lam heie." ' jadja»t face ot Dolores, elpu^efl, $n.d. she I'CCQiled, a step. She wag ex? tp, gs awa,y instead pf claBQiBg. words, IfiPtei-aJld, m^ngey pf • pierced, h e ,*' heart § v whip wte'titi hs the b},gw , mere, & always make a fool of allow it," said Diana. ' 'This is your way out. You will find your grandpapa yonder. " She pointed to a door, and Waited to see Dolores depart with a marked impatience that brooked nd appeal. Surprised, dismayed, and not a little aggrieved, the^girl would have caught at any straw of delay, had sUch detention offered. Her pride flamed up suddenly, and she departed swiftly, stifling iears. Miss Symthe rebuttoned her other glove, glided behind a screen of plants, thus adroitly avoiding Arthur Curzon, and entered the ballroom with a smile on her rosy lips. Dolores, with head lowered, and clasping her dog, ran into Capt. Blake, who started forward at her approach from the court, "Whore are you going?" he demanded, extending his hand. "I am to go away," replied Dolores, in a faint voice, placing her little, trembling hand in his grasp, and looking up at him nppealingly and sorrowfully. "The little witch!" thought the soldier, with a pleasurable quickening of pulsation in the region of the heart, beneath his rod jacket. ."I never saw such eyes in my life." He had placed himself in ambush to await her approach, for he had reasoned that she must bring her dog to her grandfather before dancing. He was moved by the complex motive of admiration of her beauty, curiosity as to who she was and a desire to thwart the sailor. "Going away without dancing with me?" he exclaimed aloud. "That will never do," "The lady — I mean Diana— said I was to go away no.v. Oh, I am so disappointed!" confessed Dolores, bending her head still lower to hide the threatening tears. "You mu^t not mind Miss Symthe. She is not the mistress of this house," said the gallant captain, in soothing accents. Dolores dried her eyes with a quizzical expression. In the game of experience Miss Symthe had thrown the shuttlecock of dire warning that men would make a fool of Dolores, and here was the first man met by the girl afterward, tossing back the refutation, in unconscious vindication of his sex, possibly, by admonishing her to beware of Miss Symthe. Lieut. Curzon waited impatiently, now pausing- near the door of the dressing room where Dolores had betaken herself to change her stage costume, and again pacing the length of colonnade." The opening quadrille of honor was over. The new singer, -Mulita, invited for the occasion, had rendered successfully a brilliant, operatic aria, with innumerable bird-like trills and quavers, substituting as an encore an odd and sad little Russian song in a minor key. Still Dolores did not come. The young officer was vaguely aware that girls require an unconscionable time for their toilet. He. was t:o large of soul to notice tho frock of Dolores, if lie thought of it at all. He was determined to give her the pleasure of dancing at a real ball, and, well — of dancing with her. Still she did not come. The blood coursed more quickly in his veins, He paced about restlessly. Perhaps some accident had happened to her, The admiration bestowed on her beauty in the tableaux inspired in him as much distrust as satisfaction. He would seek the grandfather. Why had he not done so before? He paused suddenly at tho sight of- Capt, Blake approaching, with Dolores on his arm, The captain thoroughly enjoyed the situation. Miss Ethel Symthe, who had Blighted him on several occasions in favor of Lieut. Curzon, wished to banish Dolores, He would make the latter dance all the evening, if possible, in consequence. Besides, he found it very agreeable to pour flatteries in to the unsophisticated car of his companion, He held a card, and was writing down his own name for a number of dances, Dolores observing him with puzzled' attention meanwhile, She ropognized Lieut. Curaon, withdrew hep hand from the arm of her escort, and ran toward him, with a ^oyouji esdftmation, "I am glad to see you again," she said, simply- *'I was'goinfr away, only Capt. WJake stopped me. He has been BQ kipd," with a light gesture, caress* ing anrt grateful, toward her late com. pan,jQB. "J,i»ay stay?" Polores glaneed from one tp the pther, in sudden j»i§gjyjngof her re' thO)1> great world of- ball. where reigned Miss io hev rpbe "I hat6 her!" she whispered,fiercely. "Oh, how she has made me suffer!" Evidently she had heard and c«Jti- prehended the words of Capt. Blake. "What does it matter?" said Arthur Curzon. "Nobody shall cheat us of our dance, Dolores. You do not hate me, little bird?" He would hate deemed his tone sentimental, even lachrymose, in another man. She lifted her flower-like face, as if inviting a caress, all softness attd alluring sweetness in smile and dimple. "How could I ever hate you?" she questioned. He looked at her in silence. She DAIRY AND POULTRY. INTERESfitstO CHAPTERS OUR RURAL READERS. roft WtiTO'.^ftt was there under his 'protection, but surely some emotion deeper, more subtle, blended of pain and bliss, than the chivalrous sentiment of the gentleman and the sailor, was awakening in his nature. Already the orchestra breathed forth the first notes of Strauss' Swallow Waltz, in which the listener feels the poising of the bird ott fluttering wing before launching into wide circles of flight. Lieut. Curzon led Ins partner to the ballroom, and had already clasped his arm around her slender waist, when the message of the Grand Duke Was communicated to her. Was Dolores surprised or pleased, tasting a first triumph? Her color went and came quickly, still she did not attempt to withdraw her hand from that of Arthur Curzon, even to listen. "Shall I accept?" she inquired, archly. "Yes." The couple glided a%vay into the midst of the dancers, leaving Mrs. Griffith disturbed and displeased by so much audacity and coquetry 1 Was it a mere waltz, after all, the brief span of time when society accorded these two the privilege of obeying the rhythm of the music, and the rose iu her hair brushing his lips, and her light form obeying every impulse of his guiding and encircling arm? Both forgot the Grand Duke, the ball, mere external circumstances. They were alone in a world of life and radiance, moving through space, almost without personal volition, attuned to tho strains of delightful harmonies. In the sailor's instinctive yielding to the spell of a waltz measure it was apparent that the sea had been his dancing master, and the wind his musician, imparting buoyancy alike to pulse and limb. In his zest of enjoyment he more closely resembled tho Frenchman, or the Italian, than the average young Briton, who stalks gloomily through the mazes of the modern dance. As for Dolores, the blood of her race asserted the right of agility and lightness. spurning 1 the trammels of ordi- nary'instruction in the terpsichorean art. The pupils of the convent school had danced together, during hours of play, as they had laughed or sung. Dolores had often been their leader, but such rudimentary practice of steps could not explain the innate grace of her movements in the Swallow Waltz, Other forms mingled and separated aboiit her in giddy circles, and the waves of soft draperies broke over without submerging- her in the folds of silken gauze, shot with variegated colors, the rich bloom of velvet, golden and peach-tinted tissues. Once she was confronted by' the calm face of Miss Symthe, making a turn of the dances with the Grand D tike, and again tho singer Melita gave her a friendly, half-amused nod of the liead in passing- All too soon the music ceased to resound, and Dolores found herself on a terrace softly lighted with , tinted lamps placed amid masses of palms and ferns. "I am to dance with the Grand Duke next, I suppose," sxiggested this southern daughter of Eye, glancing up at her companion through her long and silky eyelashes. "Will that give you pleasure')" "I don't know, Perhaps I am a little afraid. I wish our waltz had lasted longer." . "I wish it had lasted forever, Dolores." Calm reason no longer guided Arthur Curzon, even a clear perception of the reality of things was merging in the intoxication of the hour. The Sviil- low Waltz of the magician Straxiss still palpitated through his frame and hummed in his ears. He took her card, scrutinized it with severity, and erased the name of Capt, Blake with a lofty, mnsculine unconcern oi JStheJ' with!' silver, he »a.U<^;ift $Jf> .gay. o| fcWt. Pwr^on; an$ UwifefMpW" v'.^hMtoer - lwty)$4 .-^ a r«-" < fc w ? "fflff'J" 1"1 ' • ' fl « •.!""! • wjt.u a$s effjwww of / sppjust ,»J4, n.-nn-ar!''awhile a' 1 staelv* licrht shone irf n*<SMorlfl,.'tT»« t 'a/vw*'rt p (r'fora.'«a/ (to* Sticcessiftit frittiM**! Operat* This Department bt tha ttomeitfead—Hint* as to the t«f6 of LltS Stock and Poultry. Choego from A Wisconsin Standpoint. Recently I went to Chicago to learn what I could about Wisconsin cheese from the Chicago buyers' standpoint. I soon formulated a list of questions that I put to the different men independently, and 1 was surprised to find such a uniformity in their answers, writes J. W. Decker in Hoard's Dairyman. The filled cheese business naturally came into the discussion. The leading firms said, "We handle filled goods, not because we want to, but because we are forced to. We kept out of it as long as we could, but we have been obliged to handle the stuff or go out of the cheese business altogether, for other firms quote cheese at a lower price than we can sell full cream goods for, and we have to meet their prices, or not sell any cheese. One firm, however, has gone into the manufacture of filled cheese and is operating some thirty factories, eight atleastof which are in Wisconsin." (I hope the farmers will instruct their legislators to shut them up without delay.) When asked what was going to be the result if the filled business was not stopped, _the unanimous reply was: 'The ruination of the cheese business." Are the farmers of Wisconsin going to stand by and allow this? We need national as well as state legislation on the subject. We have ten men in congress who can and will make things pretty hot on the subject at Washington, if the farmers of the state will only insist on it. One Chicago dealer said: "I have spent about $2,000 in the last few years to fight the oleo business and I am getting tired of giving money for that purpose, when the farmers who take their milk to the factories take home butterine instead of butter." (He mentioned a certain district where that was quite generally done.) If we are going to down this filled business, the farmers must unite in the effort to down it, and as soon as they are united to a man, the legislators will not dare go against the will of the farmers, for they would rather be sure of their positions than the oleo men's money. So much for the "filled" business. The replies to my questions showed that there has been a decrease in the make of cheese in Wisconsin in the last decade. One buyer said that eight or nine years ago the offerings on the Fond du Lac board would be 5,000 boxes and if he wanted 2,000 boxes he could get them, but now when the offerings are seldom over 3,000 and usually 1,500 to 2,000, he can not get what .he wants. Tasked him if the cause of smaller offerings was not in the greater number of boards of trade; he said no, that he could not get the cheese. I know that quite often a buyer has orders to buy as many or more cheese than are offered on a board, and if he goes in to "scoop the board," the other buyers will run the price up on him. Our home consumption has been decreasing. We ought to make cheese enough to supply not only our home trade, but the foreign as well. Why should our Wisconsin farmers not share the English cheese money that Canada gets? A dealer told me that he shipped 4,700 boxes to England and canceled orders for 4,000 more because he could not get the cheese. One trouble the buyers meet is that our factories are small and they can not get large even lots. To make a bad matter worge, a factory will make half flats and half Cheddars, or half, flats and half Young Americas. In order to get the Cheddars the buyor has to take the flats, which he does not want, and lie probably cuts on the price to come out even, When the cheese are sent to England, the dealer over there writes back, "You sent us a lot of culls that you had on hand, We want even' lots. Don't send us any more culls.for we can get even lots from Canada." The buyers were unanimous in saying that the best nutty flavored cheese come from northeastern and northern Wisconsin, Southwestern Wisconsin has better equipped factories and more skillful makers, but the more northern district seems to bo endowed with the naturally fine, nutty flayers which can not be surpassed anywhere in the world, Creameries have been crowding the cheese factories out of this district, I asked the buyers if any finer flavored butter could be made there than else^ where, and they said no, I then gsked where the finest butter came from, and they were in saying, and that hesitatipn, from the Elgin, dis» ,tri<?t, When asked what the cause of the better flavored butter was, they were not so sure, but thought it wag ia the better feeding and care pf the cows,,, ^ Northeastern Wisconsin is, tbes, pve»- '8»ite§n1i i» the eheese belt, and we. B.e,e$ hare, BQ fear of the business Mag r The better bwsiuess,c^feB ? SQ with the eheese" fall 04 '§5, at the cio.se.* >" yegjpfl, neay tQ the of Hip* At the Kansas Dairy meeting Mr. A. W. omer read a paper on "Ripening Cream." We give a portion of it and a portion of the discussion, as reported by the National Dairyman: Three reasons are given for ripening cream. First, to get flavor in butter; second, to secure thorough churning; third, to improve the keeping quality. The first reason is sound. It is impossible to get the fine, nutty flavor except from ripened cream. Second reason is also sound, and third reason is in some doubt Some experiments seem to show ^hat sweet cream butter keeps best, while others indicate that ripened cream butter keeps best; there is probably net much difference. The ripened cream butter seems to keep best at a temperature of 32 degrees or less, but when the butter is kept at a temperature of 45 or 50 degrees, then the sweet cream butter seems to keej. better. The cream should be stirred often while ripening—for two reasons. First, to keep an eren temperature; second, to prevent the surf ace from thickening. If the temperature is not uniform the warmer parts ripen faster, and the result will be an extra loss of fat in the butter milk. This loss occurs because the best temperature for churning ripe cream is not best for cream not ripe, and if cream is unevenly ripened it is impossible to secure temperature that is best for all of it. If the cream is allowed to stand without stirring, the richer parts rise to tho surface, and the upper inch or two becomes thick, being exposed to air and moisture, evaporates, and clots of cream form. If it takes several days to get cream enough to churn, it should be kept sweet. Sometimes cream will not ripen of itself in time for next day's churning. Then it becomes necessary to use a starter. Ths starter is simply ripened milk of some kind. When it is added to cream and well stirred in, the ripening germs begin to grow rapidly, and in this way begins to ripen. The starter most often used is butter milk. This will do if butter of that churning was of good flavor. If the butter was off in flavor, butter milk should not be used. A better method is to take skim milk as soon as it is separated, set it in a can in a heating vat and raise temperaturo to 150 degrees. Hold at this for ten or fifteen minutes, then cool down and add to it 10 or 15 per cent of butter milk; keep in clean can, well covered, at a temperature of GO to 05 degrees. This is used for next day's cream. The amount of starter depends upon condition of cream, temperature of cream and length of time cream has to stand. Generally from eighteen to twenty hours is required for cream to ripen. Ripened cream has a very fine, granular appearance and a slightly acid taste.- • Mr. Hoffman—I understand from the paper that the most important object in ripening cream was to obtain flavor. Do we' understand that the flavor is put into the butter by ripening the cream properly and if so why do we often lack high flavored butter in Kansas? Mr. Orner—Both the flavor and process of churning depends on ripening the cream at the same time. If the cream was not ripe you would not have the fine flavor. Mr. Hoffman—I am aware that you can spoil the flavor, but can you put a flavor in it, that otherwise would not be in it, by a certain process in ripening? I made butter some years ago, and really about the time Mr. Monrad began talking about ripening cream it seemed very strange to attempt it. I believe that most of the writers claim that the flavor is fed into the cow. Mr. Nissley—Don't you notice the flavor in butter if you churn ripened crea.m? , , Mr. Hoffman—I can not .tell when the cream is j ast ripened enough. I can tell the acidity of the cream, but can not tell just immediately when the point is ripened. How can you tell when it is just ripened? Mr. Levrellen—I will tell you that cream has a granular appearance and a slightly acid taste, : Mr. Oruer—Ripened cream can be ripened, and, at the same time, not be soured. A ppearances and slightly acid taste show about 38 degrees acidity, by MannV auid test. See Iowa bulletin 21, Mr, Lewellen—If a man tries that to-day, he must try it to-morrow in order to know about it? Can he tell by looking afc it, or must he test each time? , Mr, Orner—Take your test of the cream in the afternoon and you CSA find out about how it is and after oo- ing it a lew days you will know ;jus» about how to <?ool or warm it. Mr, Monrad— It yon will allow me to go back eighteen years ago when I ftrst learned to wake butter, the Danes ripened their cream put did »ot know anything about bacteriology or Mann's The yerylast tbinjrbelpre to hed was to go dpwB and see 6aw the creanj was getting along, stir |t up, smell and taste it, IJook at the It is pretty POP,]. a n d enough tQ l»p ripe fay at § a. TO., then &«at it up a $,?£$<?( hare 3»'acj4 tesWit is o»iy a OP taste, the test, te fine tttftfttft Michigafc station h&fi very remarkable HolsteM fco^s. the tS'-'ent breeders' meetiftg ift stat«, Prof. Clinton D. Smith tributed a type written report Vieir records for a year, vte.: ROSS Banheottr 5th, 17.492 Ibs milk aftd 456.87 Ibs butter in 311 days; HoultgS D, 14.289 Ibs milk and 453.57 Ibs bfll* ter in 238 days; and Belle Sarcastic 14.621 Ibs milk and 429.16 Ibs butter ttt 239 days. These are certainly very e*» traordinary yields, and it is a matte* for everlasting regret that a breed able to turn out such cows was not represented at Chicago. According to a memorandum on the copy of the report sent to me the average daily consumption o£ each cow was about as follows: Ettsi^ lage 60 Ibs; grain 22 Ibs; ftots 40 Ibsf clover hay 10 Ibs. In the meeting Prof. Smith said the grain consisted of corn, oats, bran, and wheat, and ia the discussion he conceded they were fed, to some extent, for show: "People always want to see something great," he said, "attd the cows have been fed to this end, but there is no doubt but that they will come out of it all right. There is a danger of their rec* ords doing harm by inciting people to feed injudiciously." In reply to a question he said further: "I think it would generally be safe and more profitable not to feed to the highest limit. In feeding for a record we must depend on the herdsmen. The scientist can not measure the appetite; the herdsman's judgment is best." Treatment of Cows. Now, I do not believe there is ont case in ten thousand where striking a cow does any good. Cows are not by nature vicious, and even when made so by man, the way to conquer them is not to show them more viciousness, Look at the matter in a commonsense light. A young heifer is brought to the stable with her first calf. She naturally thinks it is a great event and is naturally much excited over it, when a man comes in with a rope and pail, and, after tying her head so short she can hardly see her calf, begins to pull on her teats. They are, of course, more or less sore, and she resents iti and the only way she has of showing her resentment is by kicking, which she naturally does. And then the" owner begins to inquire for kicking devices for kicking cows, never thinking that he has, or ought to have if he runs a dairy, the remedy, with himself—kindness.—National Stockman. The above extract from a communi cation by a farmer to the National Stockman is upon one of the many important conditions that enter into the care and management of cows—that of •kindness. We fully endorse the sentiments therein expressed, and would solicit the special attention of our readers to the subject, not only in their own pecuniary interests, but in. the interests of that most noble an,' mal, the cow, who is unable to speak' for herself, but is obliged to whatever cruel trea'tmenf he should be her best friend sees fit, in a moment of passion, perhaps, to inflict' upon her, resenting it, nevertheless, in the only way of which she is capable, too often bringing an extra amount of suffering upon herself. In closing this appeal for the cow, vre would beg all dairymen and those hav- - ing charge of these delicate and sensi-; tive animals to think twice before' striking one of them, for it can only be done at the expense of their product at the pail.—Turf, Farm and Home. Poultry lireeclu Laying Dark Eggs. Mirror and Farmer says: It has- been claimed in favor of certain breed*' that they lay eggs with dark shells, 1 ' but we have never yet seen a flock where there was perfe st uniformity of color of eggs. The fact is, it is seldom two hens can be found to produce eggs, of exact shade of color, except wheix the breed is one laying white eggs. I o is true that flocks exist that lay dark eggs, but there is more or less ^differ' ence of shade in color of, eggs from each individual. We have noticed th*» difference in the Plymouth Rocks ant), Wyandottes particularly, and we also add the Langshans, Hens in flock, that were sisters have failed J produce uniform eggs. Some very dark and others nearly variations in shade being able. Tlie most uniform eggs from Cochins and the next""" There is a way to secure dark eggs Jo; uniform color, hpwever, and that-is hatch the pullets from dark eg^s, .,"" littlfe can be gained the first year^ with careful selection for a fevv the flpck can be brought up tQ sired standard as layers pf dark, ,TfW *•}& ' i>\* | ,^<^I •>$ city A Gooo OB the out§k>,|S of,, the about three hundred h,e n s» ing feed, eqnsis^ ' °* a . sometimes jt is eoJspQseiJ ef bran, dliqge ^n4 ground .qorn, a,»4' -'o^,; sometimes of but pne oy |WP pi W The yeiias. eand, scraps frm $hr§ w$i ants are '" <,?r nr f«SB,ri?W«l7-^T-K3W# ^ -^V^S^TaH^Rf'Ssa rjn!' oTi <ftT^^w2^oSiw?oRihWfr^M

Get full access with a Free Trial

Start Free Trial

What members have found on this page