The Press-Democrat. (Hennessey, Okla. Terr.), Vol. 3, No. 19, Ed. 1 Friday, February 1, 1895 Page: 2 of 8

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HEIGHT OF THE ^RIDICULOUS.
I wrote some lines once on a time
In wondrous merry mood,
And thought, as usual, men would say.
They were exceeding good
They were so queer, so vory queer,
I laughed as 1 would die
Albeit, In tho general way,
A sober man am I.
I called my servant, and he came.
How kind It was of him.
?o mind a slender man dke me,
He of the mighty limb:
These to the printor," I cxclaimed,
And In my humorous way,
I added (as a t ri ti Injest),
"There'll be the devil to pay. "
He took the paper and I watched,
And saw him peep within
At tho first line he read, his face
Was all upon the grin
He read tho next the grin grow broad.
And shot from ear to oar
He read the third: a chuokllnj noise
1 now begun to hoar.
The fourth he broke Into a roar;
The fifth: his waistband split
The sixth he burst five buttons off,
Aud tumbled in a fit
Ton days ami nights, with sleepless eye,
I watched that wretched min.
And since. I never dare to write
As funny as 1 can
—Oliver Wendell Holmes.
Lady Latimer's Escape.
BY CIIAKLOTTE M. Kit A KM 15.
CHAPTER IX—Continued.
It had been arranged that, on Now
Year's eve a grand ball should bo
given. Tho entertainment was called
a ball, but it was to comprise charades,
music, cards, and everything olse that
was enjoyable. Lady Latimer and
Colonel North had drawn out a pro-
gram that was most inviting; to my
thinking they spont a great deal of
time over it, but it was certainly a
success. I remember every detail of
that New Year's eve—how beautiful
the frozen snow looked in tho sun-
shine, how white and hard tho ice was,
how tho scarlet berries of the holly-
trea glowed, how the robin red-breasts
flow. A beautiful New Year's evo, on
which I alone saw tho shadow.
I confess. Lady Latimer looked lovoly
enough that night to make any man
lose both heart and head. She had
chosen a costumo worn generally by
those who represent Juliet on the
stage; blue velvet over white satin,
with what looked like a net work or
armor of pearls; her white shoulders
and arms shone through tho pearls,
her faco wore a dainty flush, her eyes
were bright.
I forgot all about myself; my heart
was heavy ovor hor. I could not di-
vest myself of a fear, a foreboding
that something was to happen that
night. A presentiment of coming evil
seemed to weigh me down. Captain
Fleming said to me more than once, !
"You look tired and 111. Miss Lovel;"
but I could not answer him. I had no
heart—no heart.
It did not surprise me that they j
danced together, and more than one
remarked that they .were tho hand-
somest pair in tho room; nor was I
surprised that, instead of dancinsr to-
gether a second timo, they went into
the conservatory, nor when they j
walked up and down the picture- gal-
lery, nor when they paused for a few
moments under tho mistletoe bough
and I saw him kiss her; but I was sur-
prised when I hoard him say to her:
"You need have no fear; I have
made every arrangement. Tho car-
riage will bo at the turn of tho road
by two o'clock. All will be well."
They neither saw nor heard me;
they were sitting behind a group of
white camellias, tall trees with glossy
loaves, and I was on the other side,
hovering near her. always fearful,
yet without knowing why. Lady Lati-
mer made some remark that I did not
hear. His answer was:
"Trust to me, my darling; all will
bo well."
I turned away sick at heart, and
from tho depths of my soul I prayed
heaven to save her, for she was in
deadly peril.
Still the real significance of those
words did not occur to me. "The
carriage will be at the turn of the road
by two o'clock." I thought it was
some arrangement about driving the
next day, and I said to myself, over
and over again, that I must do some-
thing to help her, something to save
her, or she would be lost. Little did
I dream, oven then, of what that New-
Year would bring forth.
CHAPTER-X.
IIow, or how suddenly, I missed her,
[ cannot tell. Whenever Lady Lati-
mer quitted a room she seemed to tako
some of the brightness away with her.
I missed tho shining of the pearls and
the light gloaming on the blue velvet.
How long she had been gone from the
ball room I could not tell. None of
lay family was there that evening.
N«w Year's eve was a sacred festivity
ftt the vicarage. My father always
law the old year die and the new year
bora on his knees. There was no ono
to whom I could speak or tell my
faat .
Where was she—the beautiful, ra-
ilias\ graceful woman who had given
light and brightness even to that
bright room " Not with Colonel North,
that was one comfort, for he stood at
the end of the ball room, talking to
some ladies; but when I came to watch
his face, it was unlike itself, there was
a strange expression on it, as though
he were waiting, and waiting im-
patiently. I saw restraint and con-
straint upon his faco. My fears grow.
I wont to tho conservatory, to tho
picture gallery, to every place I had
last soon tho jewels shine, but there
was no trace of Lady Latiinor. Then
I wont back to the ball room and found
that Colonel North had gone, too.
I shall always think that that which
followed was an inspiration from
heaven. I looked at ono of tho jew-
eled clocks that stood in the ante-
room; it had turned half past one, and
tho words spoken by Colonel North
came plainly to me:
"Tho carriage will l>o at the turn of
tho road by 2 o'clock."
Oh, God! did it mean that? I stood
for a minute paralyzod; my heart al-
most ceased beating, tho blood ran cold
in my veins, my limbs trembled. Could
it mean that?
Quick as thought I wont to Lady
Latimer's room. Thero was nothing
unusual at first sight, but when I
opened tho wardrobe door, I saw tho
blue velvet and pearls hastily thrust
aside. I knew—I knew she had gone
away with him, and had chosen tho
night bocatiso they imagined during
tho excitement they would not be
missed. Two o'clock, at the cornor of
tho roud! I knew tho turning we® a
great oak-troe stood thero; wo had
often rested under its shade. Should
I havo time to roach it and to save
her? Quick as thought, I took a cloak
and hat from her wardrobe. I did not
stop to think; I knew, in the confusion
no ono would notice mo or miss me. I
Hew down the great staircase, across
tho entrance hall, mooting no ono;
then I reached the hall door, and stood
outside,trying for ono moment to think
which was tho nearest way. If 1
could only roach tho corner of tho
road before the carriago started, I was
all right. I should save her, ovon if I
lost my life in doing it. If tho car-
riage was gone, then eternal shame
and disgrace to tho beautiful woman I
loved. Tho moon was shining, but
not very brightly, and tho stars wore
out; tho snow gleamed white and hard
on the ground, the tall trees, with
their bare branches, stood like giants.
I looked neither to tho right nor tho
loft; I ran for dear life, praying
heaven, even as I ran, t,o savo her—
save her from eternal shame and woe.
On, past tho shining laurels and tho
tall lirs; on, past tho frozen lake, past
tho lime-trees, past the holly-bushes
gleaming crimson, past the tall larches
through which tho winter wind moaned
and wailed; hastening, dospairing,cry-
ing to heaven to help ino to save hor;
and then—oh, God be praised and
thanked!—I saw them. Thoy had not
reached tho park gates, and she was
saved; for he should not take her away
unless ho killed mo first; I would cling
to her—save her in somo way. They
were walking quickly, but tho next
moment I was with them, by her side.
I cried out her name, I tlung my arms
around hor. "My darling, you must
not, vou sljall not go!"
and then I stood for ono
moment breathless. Which should I
speak to? What should I say?
"I know," I cried at last. "Tho
carriage is waiting at the turn of tho
road, and you—oh. Colonel North,
gentleman and soldier—you want to
take her away with you to eternal
shame and eternal remorse! You
shall not!"
"What, in heaven's name, brings
you here, Audrey Lovel?" cried Col-
onel North.
And I answered, "Heaven itself, to
savo her from ruin and death. You
shall not tako her away; we aro close
to the lodge gates, and if you try to
pass them and take her with you, I
will raise such an alarm that you will
bo overtaken in live minutes, and she
shall be dragged from you by force, j
Gentleman aud soldier! Do you know
that you aro a coward and thief in
stealing another man's wifo?"
lie drew back. I went on:
"The wife of an old man, powerless
to avenge himself—a man who has j
trusted you, whose bread you have j
eaton, under whose roof you havo
found hospitable shelter. And you
repay him by stealing his wife! Why
did you not steal that which he values
1 less—his gold or his jewels? Oh,
shame—bitter, endless shame onyou!"
And it seemed to me that the wind
I took up tho words and re-echoed them
among tho trees, "shame—bitter, end-
less shame!" I turned to the trem-
bling girl.
"Come back with me, my darling,"
I said, "come back. It is only a bad,
evil, black dream; como back with me;
no one shall know."
She hesitated, she half clung to him.
I saw him throw his arm around her,
j and I saw defiance in his face.
"Lady Latimer," I said, "do you
know where those gates lead? Look
at them, and know tho road leading
from thorn is the path to hell." A
| low moan came from hor lips.
I ••Think," I said; "it is not just now,
while tho glamour of love lies on you;
I it is not the present, it is tho Ion g
' years of the future, when the glamour
I will fall from your oyes, and you will
i remember nothing but the wickedness
of your sin. Wicked love never lasts
long, and the love of a man who
would brand you with endless shame
is wicked, weak and cruel. Think of
the long years of shame and sorrow
and endless remorse! Come back
with mo, darling!"
"You mean well, Miss Lovol," said
Colonol North, "but If you havo any
heart in your breast, you will not ask
her to go back. I maintain that she
is not married—marriage means a
union of hearts, it means two souls
made one."
"Marriage means the vows taken
before God and man, which can never
bo broken," I cried.
"How can you ask her," ho contin-
ued, "to go back to that loveless,
cheerless, miserable life?"
"It is her way to heaven," I said.
"I will make a heaven on earth for
her," ho cried.
"You cannot," I answered; "and if
you try to do it, you will lose her both
worlds. Oh, my darling, como back
with mo! Never mind the misery,
never mind tho pain. It is all as
nothing compared to what you will
and must suffer if you go with him.
Como back, dear.
Then sho spoke to me.
"Audrey, let mo go," she said. "I
know it is all true, but—oh! do not
turn away from me—I prefer to suffer
with him. I prefer sorrow and re-
pentance with him to my gildod mis-
ery without him. Let mo go, dear; I
could not live without him; lot me go."
"Lot her go. Miss Lovell," said
Colonol North, in a tone of deep emo-
tion. "You moan well, you are very
good. But sho could never bo happy
thero again—never again."
"And I love him, Audrey; that shall
bo my religion love. You know
what I have missod in my life, and
now I havo found it. I love him; let
mo go, Audroy; love is best."
"No, it is not!" I cried—"it is not
best, not such love as this. Fear of
God and lovo of duty aro best. Oh,
Lady Latimer, you cannot pass thoso
gates, an angel bars tho way!"
"Sho shall go!" said Colonol North,
in a low, resolute voice. "Unclasp
your arms, Miss Lovel. I have won
hor by right of lovo; sho is mine and
I shall take hor!"
I tightened my clasp on the tremb-
ling figure.
"She belongs to Lord Latimer," I
said, "and while ho lives no man shall
tako hor from him."
She flung her arms round my neck,
and cried tome:
"Let me go, Audrey; I cannot re-
turn; let mo go with him—I love him
—I love him!"
"No," I answered; "you are not
strong enough to save yoursolf, but I
am strong enough to save you. Un-
less you, Colonel North, strike me
down dead, you shall not take her."
"I do not #ill women," said Colonel
North.
"You do worse," I cried: "you ruin
their souls. You pretend that you
love this poor child; you would be
kinder far, braver far, if you plunged
a dagger in her heart, than take her
away with you. Tho murder of the
body is little compared to the murder
of a soul."
He started as though my words had
shot him; his hands fell from her. I
threw my arms round her and drew
hor closer to me.
"There is no time to lose," I said.
"If you tako one, you take both; if
you take Lady Latimer, you take me;
1 will not loose my hold on her until
she is safe from you. I repeat there
is no time to lose. You do not fear
my words; I shall give a cry that will
soon bring help to us."
"No, no!" he cried, hastily.
But I did. I wonder now that I had
tho nerve. I gave a long, low cry,
and the next minuto we saw a light in
one of tho windows of tho lodge.
' Look," I said, "we shall have help
soon."
"Go. Philip," said Lady Latimer;
"go. thero is no help for us."
"I could curse you for your cruel
work!" he said.
"You will bless me some time," I
answered.
"Let mo say good-bye to you Philip."
cried Lady Latimer, and her voice
was full of anguish. "Ah, my love,
my love, found so late and lost for-
ever!"
"One word, Colonel North," I said.
"I will keep your secret, but it must
be on my own terms. You must leave
tho house to-morrow morning under
the pretext that you havo received a
I telegram, and you must swear to me
that you will never return. If you do
so. I shall at once tell Lord Latimer
all that has passed."
Ho bowed: he could not speak; and
as ho turned away from mo I saw the
I tears rain down his face. Then we
had to draw back and stand in silence
i under tho dark shade of the trees, for
the lodgo-keepor came out. lantern in
hand, followed by his wife.
j "I am sure I heard voices," he said.
"I am sure I heard a cry," she re-
; plied.
They looked about for somo time,
i then went in-doors again.
I could not help his turning back and
taking Lady Latimer in his arms again.
One quick, passionato embrace and
he was gone. I led hor home. She
did not weep, but from her lips came
a low, soft moan.
Never mind if sho died of it; I had
saved her from worse than death.
We spoke no word until we reached
tho house. I know we must run some
risk.
[TO BK CQMTIXUKD.]
Feed lug for K*g Production. I wall, and needs no bolting, bracing or
In ti%= report of the Canadian expe-! fastening whatever. Now take a 3x4
riment farm, the following, relative to Plne and saw four *>locks' each 9
poultry occurs: Food is a very im-
portant factor, because by finding
what the egg is composed of, and feed-
ing such constituents we are more
likely to get the egg. Turning then
to Mr. Warrington—an English chemist
of note—he tells us in an article in the
Agricultural Gazette of London, Eng-
land, that the white of an egg is rich
in the alkalies, potash and soda, a part
of the latter being present as common
salt; that the yolk is extraordinarily
rich in phosphoric acid, and contains
much more lime than the white. The
fundamental principles to be borne in
mind, Continues Mr. Warrington, in
arranging the diet of a hen, are that
the largest ingredients in eggs are
lime, nitrogen and phosphoric acid.
We have thus found from one chemist
of what the egg is composed, and we
learn from another that green bones,
which have been heretofore thrown
away or given away by the butchers,
when "cut up," not ground up, are the
best and cheapest egg making material
extant. Green bones are rich in albu-
men, phosphate of lime, and phos-
phoric acid which go to make egg and
shell. The result has been a revolu-
tion in the economy of egg production
in winter. An immediate result has
been the invention and manufacture
of mills to "out up" the bones. And
so we have what has heretofore been
actual waste converted into eggs com-
manding a high price. Surely this is
a great step in the right direction
BCRA l'S.
A good plan whereby a farmer may
utilize more waste, is to have a pot set
aside, into which all the kitchen and
table waste in the shape of meat scraps,
pieces of bread, uneaten vegetables,
etc., may be thrown. Heat this up in
the morning with boiling water and
mix in bran, shorts, provender or
whatever is cheapest and most abund-
ant on the farm, until the whole is a
crumbly mess. A small quantity of
black or red pepper should be dusted
in before mixing. Let the mixture
stand for a few minutes until partially
cooked, and feed in a narrow, clean
trough to the layers in tho morning.
A light feed of oats at noon, and a lib-
eral ration of wheat, buckwheat or
other grain for the evening meal should
bring plenty of eggs. Each layer
should be sent to roost with a full crop
to carry her over the long night fast.
It is imperative that green food in the
shape of unmarketable vegetables,
clover bay or lawn clippings—the two
latter dried in summer and put away
to be steamed for winter use, should
be supplied. If green bones are fed
they may be given in lieu of any of the
regular '-ations, reducing the quantity
of grain in proportion to the quantity
of bone used.
proper quantity" to feed.
The practice of cramming the hens
with wheat at every ration is the very
way not t« get eggs. Too much wheat,
buckwheat or barley will go into fat
rather than eggs, and fat is a disease
in poultry. The morning mash should
be fed in a long narrow trough about
one aud three quarter inches in width,
nailed to the side of the house so that
the hens can not jump into and soil
the food. Feed only enough soft food
to satisfy, never so much as to gorge.
When a hen has had so much food that
she will go into a corner and mppe.slie
has had too much, and if the overfeed-
ing is continued she will become too
fat to lay. I f cut green bones are fed,
it should be in proportion of one pound
to every sixteen hens. If fed morning
and night, a small feed of oats at noon
and night is all that will be necessary.
Experience will teach the "happy me-
dium" in feeding.
lit Udiiif? a Silo.
S. A. Converse writes to the Iowa
State Register a long article on the
silo, from which we make the follow-
ing selections:
Several years ago I began investigat-
ing the merits of the silo, and visited
those in use on farms of prominent and
successful stock farmers in New York,
Ohio and Wisconsin. I learned of fail-
ures and of successes. The failures
could nearly all be traced to a lack of
care and thoroughness in construc-
tion of silo or tilling. Much trouble
has been experienced in having silos
spread at bottom or sides, and thus let
in the air. In order to overcome some
of the defects I had observed, I built
upon a different plan from any I had
seen, and built the flrtit one 12x12 feet
and 27 feet deep. It was so much of a
success that the following year I built
one more of same style and size and
one other 12x14, 28 feet deep; the next
year another one 12x10 and 28 feet
deej^ All have stood the test and are
as strong and good as when first built,
and I would build again on the same
plan.
First an 18-inch wall laid in common
lime mortar, enclosing, say, 12>£xl4>£
feet square, and from the bottom of
the pit build wall high enough to
bring all timbers above the ground,
where they will be dry. On top of
this wall lay tlat on the mortar 2x8
pine plank all around, with the edge
of the plank 1 inches back from in-
side face of wall, and on top of this
plank lay another of the same, 2x8, all
around so as to break joists, and spike
firmly to first plank. This, then, Is
inches long, and set them on edge
across each of the four corners and
toe nail them lightly to place with lod
wire nails. Now a 2x8, 14 feet long,
across each end, laid flat on top of
2x4 blocks, and nailed to the blocks
with one 20d nail at each end; now
a 2x8, 16 feet on each side and reach-
ing across, and on top of the end
plank, and spike thtseplanks firmly
at the four corners where they
cross each other with three or four
20d nails at each corner. Next,
take a 2x8 and saw off four blocks just
long enough to slip in endwise be-
tween your sill and the planks you
have put on, and nail them to place.
One of these blocks on each side near
the center will keep your plank from
sagging. New cut more 2x4 corner
blocks as before and put in place and
the plank on top of the blocks as be-
fore, and continue to build up in this
way as high as you want your silo,
keeping the inside edge of your 2x8
pieces all even. This is all there is to
the frame; all built of 2x8 laid up like
a log house with blocks to hold them
apart, and firmly spiked together at
the corners. Hoard up inside with pine
shiplap, letting bottom ends of boards
rest on top of wall, then tarred paper
on the boards and another boarding of
shiplap over the paper, put on up and
down, as the first was. About four or
five feet above the bottom cut out one
or two planks and put in a plank door
frame about 20 to 24 inches square, and
once in six or seven feet have a
door of this size, one above another,
out of which you throw or pitch the
ensilage.
Make doors double shiplap, with
tarred paper between. Fit one door in
from inside smooth with the surface
of boarding, and another made in
same way fitted in from outside, mak-
ing a dead air space between the doors.
This finishes the wood work.
Now take any kind of rock and throw
into the bottom of the silo, breaking
it up tine, and pound it in close until
you have six or eight inches of stone
in the bottom, so close that no rat can
dig through. Now take water, lime,
cement and cover the bottom and
plaster the wall up smooth to the
boarding, making the bottom air and
water tight as high as your wall.
Using 4-inch corner blocks as I have
directed, makes your frame planks just
six inches apart, which gives strength
enough for a 14 or 10-foot silo. When
frame is up one fourth its height you
can use 0-inch corner blocks, and when
frame is one half way up use 8-inch
corner blocks, and when three fourths
the way up use 10 or 12-inch corner
blocks the balancc of the way up. In
building this kind of a frame you can
get all the strength you need at the
lower part of silo, and as light as you
wish near the top. Boards all ex-
tending up and down, the ensilage
settles more easily and closely than it
would across the boards, and the
latter dry out more quickly after
emptying.
My silos are all in the barns, there-
fore I put on no roof nor outside
boarding, and the frame is always dry.
If buildinc outside of the barn, 1 would
build in the same way, adding a roof
and outside boarding, and would have
corner boards hung on hinges so as to
be swung open in summer, and thus
give free circulation of air around the
frame to dry it out as soon as empty.
I use all light timber, it is all rough
work, and any ordinary hand can build
one. My barns all have basement
stables, and the silos start one foot be-
low basement floor where cows stand,
and are of stone work for a height of
eight feet. I would always build in a
barn if I had the room to spare, where
it would be convenient to feeding
alley, but would build independent of
barn frame. If I were building a bt-rn
and expecting to build silos, 1 would
plan my barn with a view to silos in
the barn, building silos as high as the
plates, and from the top of silo to barn
roof put up three or four bracing
pieces and nail on three or four strips,
just to prevent the possibility of any
one falling off the hay into silo.
Make War on Weeds.—Weeds con-
sume the food which is necessary to
the growing crops. The latter are
starved and stunted whenever the
former flourish. The best time to de-
stroy weeds is as soon as they appear,
but for many reasons the campaign
against them is not vigorously pushed,
at that season. The next best time is
before they ripsn their seeds and send
them broadcast to sow trouble for
next year. The common practice of
permitting weeds to ripen their seeds
so that the plants may be afterward
gathered and burned is very objec-
tionable. In collecting the weeds
great numbers of the seeds are shelled
and scattered all over the fields, while
the fire generally burns only the top
of the pile leaving the bottom, where
the seeds have fallen, untouched.
They are thus heaped up, ready for
distribution on the first windy day.
Yet some farmers wonder how the
weeds multiply.
Coi.or ok Friit.—It is known that
ripening fruits absorb greater or lesser
quantities of oxygen and give off car-
bonic acid; that a certain portion of
the fiber is converted into sugar and
another portion into water, and that
the coloring process depends much on
the supply of sunshine while the chem-
ical action is taking place. But ex-
actly why the outer membranes of
fruits take on a positive color; why ono
apple is red and another yellow, is a
question scientists have never yet
jour sill, 4x8, lying flat on top of the agreed upon.

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Campbell, William P. The Press-Democrat. (Hennessey, Okla. Terr.), Vol. 3, No. 19, Ed. 1 Friday, February 1, 1895, newspaper, February 1, 1895; Hennessey, Oklahoma Territory. (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc164661/m1/2/ocr/: accessed January 20, 2021), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.

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