Papurau Newydd Cymru
Chwiliwch 15 miliwn o erthyglau papurau newydd Cymru
10 erthygl ar y dudalen hon
I." 1:111111 IIII:!:!: IIIII!…
I." 1:111111 IIII: IIIII! II: mnlllll'U 1IIIIIIIlIIIIIIIIIIIIUUlUIIIIIIIII! 11111111111111111 ¡mlll. 3G [All RiaorT* Risasyno-I S5 FATAL FINDERS | æ By WILLIAM LE QUEUX, 5 2 Author of The Money Spider," The Riddle of the Ring," &o. *55 I æ Author of The MoneT Spider. The Riddle of the Ring," k ,'5 CS 'S3 •' Fillillflllll III ll!ll III, .III I I I ill. iiiii iii'- lrg t CHAPTER XVI. (Continued). I I A SCENE IN THE HOUSE. "Merely for self-ndverti.sement! v declared a younger man, jealous of Gordon s fame. ■"rt'e scandalous that the time of the House should be taken up like this." "Well," exclaimed another, a. short, rather ill-dressed man, "there's some mystery about Sir George Ravenscourt's death, no doubt. I. for one, would like to see it satisfactorily «;ietnea uj). There are some queer rumours in the clubs." "No mystery at all," asserted the bald- headed man. "He committed suicide. That was proved at the inquest." "We shall see," was the reply. The Lobby was the centre of an animated scene, as it always is before the Speaker takes the chair. Members were chattering eagerly, bustling to and fro, obtaining their correspondence from the post-office, giving t instructions to their secretaries, or seated i aside on the benches in private discussion. Two men, members of the public, were standing together in the corner of thg Lobby. One was a fair-haired young man— the other the thin, sad-faced Italian priest, now dressed in dark tweeds. At last the members went into prayers, after which the Press and strangers were admitted .to the galleries, and the House opened with a loud and commanding: "Order-r-r! Order!" from the Speaker On each side of the House question-papers fluttered in the hands of members, as one after another the questions were replied to by Ministers. Then, at last, Gordon Cunningham rose and called attention to the question put down, in his name. It was to ask the Home Secretary "if his attention has been directed to the suspicion and mysterious death of Sir George Ravens- court, Baronet, a member of this House, who died in London on the night of January the seventeenth; whether it is not a fact that the Coroner's jury have returned a ver- dict of suicide; whether it is not a fact that all the evidence pointed conclusively to murder; whether the authorities have not taken strenuous steps to hush up the matter, and whether the police have cot in their possession a certain document or documents of a very remarkable nature bearing upon the case?" He also asked whether the police had, in face of the Coroner's verdict, taken -any steps to investigate the strange affair. When Gordon resumed his seat the Home "Secretary rose from the Treasury bench, and there v. as an ill-disguised look of annoyance upon his grey-bearded countenance. The Minister was in the act of fumbling -inion his many papers, preparatory to replying, when a note was suddenly thrust into Cunningham's hand. The young man took it. tore it open, and planced at its ill-written, ill-spelt contents. Then, with a strange look upon his face, he -crushed it quickly into his jacket-pocket. A low cry escaped his lips next second, and several members seated near saw him half use from the bench, then reel and fall heavily forward in a crumpled heap upon the floor, striking his head as he collapsed. In an instant there was considerable con- fusion, and the Home Secretary, wondering "what had occurred sat down without answering the question. "The honourable member has fainted!" 'filio-ated some ene, addressing the Speaker, and the proceedings were stopped, while Cunningham was carried forth into the open air. And as he lay unconscious with a doctor -.it hi' side there, crushed in his jacket- pocket, reposed a half-sheet of thumbed note-paper, blotted and scrawled, which gave plainly the cause of his sudden faint- lleSH-a message which, at any moment, might be discovered and read! CHAPTER XVII. TO PAY THE PRICE. j, Two hours later, in the gathering London twilight, Gordon Cunningham was sitting •alone beside the fire in his Eastern room at Bruton Street, silent and thoughtful. The doctor and one of his friends had brought him home in a taxi, and now he had recovered they had left him to rest. The fainting-fit had, the medical man declared, been due to overwork, and complete rest was the only remedy. He thrust his hands iuto his pockets, drew forth a dirty half-sheet of note-paper, and held it between his treinbling fing-ers. His eyes again fell upon those ill-written lines, «videutly in the round, bold hand of a child, by whom the original, written by a foreigner had been copied. They read: SIR,—Why do you dare ask a question upon a matter about which you yourself know sufficient? Instantly withdraw your impudent reflections upon the police, or you will receive a sudden surprise. Only you prevent your own exposure by with- drawing. If the. question is asked, then the consequences will be swift and just, and the disgraceful truth will be known by the world." It was undated and unsigned. Who had cent it? Surely it was not a trick on the part of the Government to evade an awk- ward inquiry. No. Somebody knew. Was this Tulloch's revenge? What if one or other of his political friends had noticed him read that note, and crush it into his pocket before his seizure t What if the curiosity of anybody had been aroused, and they had taken it out and read it during his unconsciousness? What then? From the report of that afternoon's sit- ting of Parliament it appeared that the business of the House had been at once re- sumed after his removal, the Home Secre- tary refraining from replying to the ques- tion in the absence of the questioner. As he sat there staring at the mysterious missive the telephone bell rang sharply, and he rose and answered. It was Maidee. She had just seen the re- port in the paper, and inquired anxiously whether lie were now all right. "Oh, I'm quite myself again, dearie," he replied cheerfully over the 'phone. "The House seemed nusually close this after- noon, and I suppose I fainted, that's alL It was at a most unfortunate very sick that I haven't been able to get answers to my questions. "Never mind," she exclaimed. "As long as you are right again, what matters, Gor- don? You'll be able to tackle the Home Secretary to-morrow. Are you coming round this evening? Do, if you feel well enough, ,won. t you, dear?" "If I feel all right I will, of course. I shan't go back to the House to-day." "That's right," was the reply. "You must really have a change. I insist upon it. I warned you the other day that you looked as if you wanted one. And now I, do hope you'll take my advice before you get really ill." "well," he laughed, "I'll see. We'll talk it over when I come round after dinner. Au revoir, dearest." And then he rang off. "Ah, Maidee, Maidee!" he cried wring* ?. °S his hands as he paced the dim room m IS feverish agony; "what can I do? How can I act? Gradually, by slow degrees, my enemIes re closing upon me. Soon, very soon, they will rise and crush me. I took one false step, and from it I have never been able to draw back. The evil powers of the one behind me pushed me forward irre- sistibly, until now I stand upon the very brink of the abyss. Ah! if only you knew the truth, Maidee," he cried, covering his hard, drawn face with his hands. "If only you knew the truth you would pity me Suddenly he halted, as though recollecting that he still held the strange warning. "I must see Tulloch," he gasped after a long silence. He knows all secrets. I must seek his advice. But-but where is he? He left me no address. And yet if he sees to- day's incident in the paper he most surely will return. Yes, I must once again seek the: advice of the man who is my bete -noire- the man in whose power I am so utterly and completely." Newton entered with some letters, but he tossed them aside unopened. The man had switched on the light, and was lowering the blinds when his master said: "Mr. Tulloch may call-that elderly gentleman who waited for me. If he comes again, I particularly want to see him, New- ton. Tell him to wait." "Yes, sir," replied the man gravely, as he withdrew. Under the dim, shaded lights in the Moorish -arches of the room Gordon Cun- ningham looked very ill and terribly worn. His eyes were sunken, his cheeks blanched, and his whole expression was as of one haunted by some terrible dread. He crossed the room, examined himself in a long mirror, and his eyebrows contracted. "Ah!" he sighed, "if I could only find Tulloch. I must see him." Presently he burned the strange note thnt had been put into his hand, together with its envelope, and then passing into his bed- room he leisurely dressed for dinner. A dozen times rang the telephone bell, and Newton was kept busy answering anxious inquirers who had seen the accounts of his master's illness in the evening papers. Suddenly the man opened the door of Gordon's room and said: "There's Mr. Tulloch on the telephone, sir. He wishes to speak to you. "Tulloch!" echoed his master, excitedly. Rushing to the instrument eagerly he found that his enemy was at an office in the City. "Come over at once and see me," he urged. "I must speak with you without delay. Something serious has occurred." "All right," replied Tulloch's voice, "I'll come immediately. I hope it's nothing bad, Gordon—eh?" I "Come, and I'll tell you all about it," the young man said, and then returned to finish dressing. He was all impatience until, twenty minutes later, Tulloch stood in the dimly-lit apartment and grasped the young man's hand. "What does all this mean—eh?" he asked. "I read it in the paper. What an infernal contretemps this afternoon!" "Yes," replied the other in a low voice, as he sank upon one of the soft lounges. "But mine was not an illness, Tulloch. I fainted from-well, from fear." "From fear!" cried his friend in surprise. "Fear of what?" Then he explained in detail all that occurred, 'adding: "I wish I had kept the note, but I had foolishly burned it only a few minutes before you rang up. I' ought to have kept it for you to see." "It being in a child's hand would not convey any clue as to who actually wrote 'it," Tulloch remarked with a dark, thought- ful look as he slowly rubbed his chin. "The wording was evidently that of a foreigner." "Well." Gordon exclaftned, "I want your opinion. How shall I act?" "Somebody knows. That's very evident," Tulloch remarked. "Do you think so?" gasped the unhappy young fellow. "Is my secret really out?" -Or--flaslied into Gordon's mind-had Tul- loch sent it himself? "Well, I'm very much afraid that it seems so," replied the elder man. "Have you no enemy whom you suspect ?" "I've been racking my brains to think, but cannot fix upon anyone." Tulloch looked across the dimly-lit apart- ment at the young man's agitated face. "No rival for Maidee's affections-for in- stance? "Many fellows are jealous of me, I ex- pect," replied Gordon. "Maidee is much admired and very popular, as you know. But I can think of no one likely to have discovered the truth—the truth as known to you and me," he whispered. I "An enemy is not likely to show his hand —at least at present- remarked Tulloch grimly. "It is certainly curious that your mysterious opponent should wish to hush up the affair. One would have thought that if he had ideas of secret vengeance he would have waited until the question had been answered, and then-" "Yes, and then have spoken the truth," Gordon said slowly. "He might have had a complete and terrible revenge if he had so wished. But you see I am fighting in the dark. I do not unfortunately know the identity of my enemy." A strange look crossed his visitor's features, an expression which in the dimness of that apartment Gordon could not dis- tinguish. "Yes," he agreec, "it is unfortunate— most unfortunate, my dear Cunningham. We fondly believed that our secret was quite safe—didn't we?" "I only dared to ask the question because you compelled me, Tulloch," declared the unhappy man in despair. "And in acting boldly I have, alas! brought destruction upon myself." "Not destruction," the other asserted: "The situation is certainly a trife critical for you. But we must discover the identity of the person who thus utters threats. And having done that we must form some counter-plot—to silence him. He must be silenced—at all hazards." "Can you really do that?" cried the young man, eagerly. "I know what mar- vellous power you possess to know men's secrets, Tulloch. Discover who this enemy of mine really is—and—save me," he im- plored. "Name your price, Tulloch, but save me!" The man's face relaxed into a sinister grin of triumph, while his dark eyes shot a keen, inquisitive look at the unhappy man seated huddled before him. Gordon, driven to despair, was now ready-nay, anxious-to resume friendship with his visitor-the.man who held him in his toils so utterly and so completely. The day of reckoning was near. Little did he dream the actual truth. In- deed, if Tulloch had at that moment re- vealed the astounding facts to him he would have flatly refused to believe. "Well," said his visitor, "I will help you-but remember," he added in a slow, meaning voice, "I am not a philanthropist." Gordon knew that he wanted money-as always. If he required his aid, then he must pay the price. Ah! And what a price! CHAPTER XVIIL I 5  L THE MARBLE FACB. I It was early in March. I The afternoon waa dull and wintry, with a I dispiriting greyness hanging over London. Big Ben, high above, had just chimed, and the great bell had boomed forth three o'clock. In Parliament Square, that little oasis of green grass in Westminster, the traffic of motor-'buses and taxi-cabs was increasing, and foot passengers, wrapped warmly against the east wind, hurried to and fro along Victoria Street, Whitehall, or over Westminster Bridge. W\thin Westminster Abbey, in the grand ofd north transept, all was hushed, gloomy, and gradually darkening. The huge old pile stood mysterious and' full of deep shadows on that grey, depressing, windy afternoon. In the Statesmen's Corner—just as one enters from the hurry of Parliament Square —many visitors of various tongues came and went. They, paused, conversing in whispers before the two rows of life-sized statues of the departed great—Gladstone, f Beacons- field, the Cannings, Pitt, Peel, and the others-reflecting, admiring, and! remember- ing, for that, and Poet's Corner in the south transept opposite, are the two most sought-for spots by the hundreds of thou- sands of strangers w!ho annually make a pilgrimage, to Westminster. Of the many who passed by probably not one noticed, back in the deep shadow just within the door, an elderly, ill-dressed, and rather decrepit-looking man, white-haired! and white-bearded, and wearing a shabby, snuif-coloured overcoat, who bad paused to rest upon one of the old oak benches. Unseen, he sat motionless, his pale face turned towards one 01- the high marble effigies-that of a Statesman in the robes of doctor of laws, a noble, handsome-looking man, with prominent nose, rather high cheek-bones, his right hand across his breast, and his left at his side. It stood close to the statue of Gladstone, and its circular base bore in great, bold black letters the simple inscription: ERECTED BY PARLIAMENT to THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARL OF ELLERSDALE, E.G., Twice Prime Minister of England. Born 1832. Died 1890. With its back to one of the high, round Norman columns on the left, it stood out in strong relief, with a softly tempered light shed from a long stained-glass window, re- vealing the clear-cut profile. The light from the window behind fell directly across it, bringing it into more prominence than the statues on either side, rendering the sculptor's masterpiece an almost speaking,4 eiffigy of the dead Premier as he had so fre- quently been seen in the House of Commons in the act of delivering one of his world- famous speeches. The shabby old man sitting back in the shadow was well-known to the black-gowned! vergers. He haunted the precincts of the Abbey at all hours. Often he would remain there a whole day wandering up and down the nave, or along the ancient cloisters. Sometimes he would wish them a whispered "good-dav," but generally, with his shabby old silk hat in h^ hand, he would shuffle on aimlessly, now Sid then oitting upon a bench to rest. The officials had known him for years. They called him "Old Chestnut," on account of the colour of the threadbare overcoat which he had worn summer and winter ever since his first appearance there. Sometimes lie entered the Abbey as soon as it was opened to the public, and did not leave till closing time, on such occasions surrepti- tiously consuming dry biscuits from his pocket. Now and then he would join parties, of visitors and be conducted by one of the vergers, who explained the various historic portions of the Abbey. This he had done dozens of times, always giving the verger a tip, just like the rest of the sightseers. On other occasions, apparently in order that the people should regard him as a stranger, he would carry a tattered Baedeker and pretend the greatest interest in all he investigated. That afternoon, as he sat back in the shadow resting, one of the vergers nodded across to him, and he returned the salute with a quiet smile, as though gratified by the recognition. Ever since early morning he had been wandering about, and was now resting in Statesmen's Corner with the monument to the great Lord Ellersdale straight before him, his eyes half-closed, his thin, clasped hands resting upon his cherry stick, his old silk hat placed carefully at his side. In the gloom of the great nave the dark figure of a tall man halted, and stood watch- ing him unseen—a thin man with a yellow face—Don Mario. Only for a moment he watched, then, ap- parently satisfied, he turned upon his heel and walked out, like an evil shadow, a strange, sinister smile upon his hard, thin features. Big Ben had just rung out the notes of the quarter, and so dark had it now become that the electric lights had been switched on in the more remote parts of the nave, the little- lamps glowing, like stars in the vast black void of the great interior. Of a sudden the door close to where the old man was seated opened, and two figures entered from Parliament Square—a man, in a dark overcoat, accompanied by a slim, well-dressed young girl in black, wearing a large hat, a long sealskin coat, and a veil. "It is just here," exclaimed the man briskly, as they passed by where "Old Chestnut" was seated. "See, at the corner —the one standing out there in the light." And both walked straight on towards the statue of the dead Premier, the man con- versing wilh his companion in low, huthed whispers. tTo be Continued).
MARQUIS FINED.
MARQUIS FINED. At Mortlake the Marquess of Blandford was summoned for driving a motor-car at Barnes without lights and to the danger oi the public. Mr. Travers Humphreys, for the defen. dant, pleaded guilty to driving without lights, but denied driving to the danger of the public. Police evidence was given that the inci- dent happened at midnight and that the de- fendant was driving between thirty and forty miles an hour, His lordship stated that when he left By- fleet his lights were all right, but on the road his dynamo failed and his lights went out. He had a commission in the 1st Life Guards, and was due in barracks early the next morning. The charge of dangerous driving was dis- missed, and a fine of .£2 imposed for having no lights.
PEACE NIGHT ILLUMINATIONS.…
PEACE NIGHT ILLUMINATIONS. I The Central Committee for Peace Cel-ebra. tion Bonfires are urging the formation of county and borough committees to decide where peace illuminations shall be held, and the number of flares, rockets, and hand lights required.
[No title]
"You are like a woman," said Mr. Sym. mons at Tower Bridge Police Court; "you say No' when you mean Yes.' As the result of several boys playing on Horsell Common, Woking, a serious heath fire broke out, twenty-five acres of the heath being destroyed. I' Matthew Cammish and Mortimer Scales, two Filey fishermen, were drowned when their fishing coble was upset by a heavy sea about a mile from the end of Filey Brigg.
?H!nnniH!Hn!!nnnHHHn!!HH!!Hn!!n!nnnHHtn?nnHH!nnntH!nHHH
?H!nnniH!Hn!!nnnHHHn!!HH!!Hn!!n!nnnHHtn?nnHH!nnntH!nHHH<!H!n!n<n!nHH!HHH!H!n!J!nMn:H!HnH!H?  THIS WEEK !N THE GARDEN. I M S "God Almighty first planted a g&rden: and indeed it is the £ 'God Almighty fwst planted a 'garden: and indeed it is the 2I2 35 I ? "Bacon. s purest of human pleasures."—Bacon. = purest of human pleasures. iiijiiiiiiiiiijiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiHTuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiH)iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuifiiiiiiiiiiii^ lpelphinium.-The perennial Larkspurs can be freely raised from seeds sown in the open border during the next few weeks. Cleaning and 'transplanting, is easier when the 6ceds are sown in drills. Mixed seedling Delphi- niums vary in height from 3ft. to 6ft. Valu- able dwarf strains for small gardens include Formosum, 3ft.; Queen of the Blues, lift.; and Blue Butterfly, 15in. < A Beautiful Annual.-I.-eptoeyne Stillmani flowers quickly from weeds. If sown now, the first blossoms, useful when cut, may be expected early in June. The plants thrive I in., ordinary garden soil on a sunny border, and grow 3ft. high. The daisy-like blossoms are borne on long stalks. As the flowers are cut for vases, successional blooms develop. w Auriculas from Offsets.—Now is the Sobering period of Auriculas, and as they pass out of bloom repotting becomes neces- safy. This offers a means of increase, and any offsets that exist may be detached and inserted to provide young plants. If obtain- able with a few rocts so much th<1 better, as then they can be straightway potted into small pots. If no roots are attached, place the offsets around the ooge of a 6in. pot, and put it umter a handlight or small frame I in a cold greenhouse till rooted. Then pot singly. Grow on during summer in a frame, affording plenty of ventilation, and be care- ful in waterings as excessive moisture is a fault that quickly shows its effect. Select a shady site for the frame, and keep a sharp look out for green-fly, which must be destroyed by dusting with tobacco powder or by fumigation. In repotting old plants do not increase the size of the pot, but, above all, afford liberal drainage. • • Iceland Poppy.—In some gardens where this is a favourite flower for cutting, a bor- der is entirely devoted to their culture. Selfsown seedlings maintain a supply of plants from year to year. This is the time to clean the border, thinning and spacing out the small plants carefully to where there ata vacancies. A rather damp open border is best in preference to a hot, sunny and dry position. Set out at least 6in. apart. Love-in-a-Mist.—The Nigella does not transplant readily, so that the seeds should be sown where the plants are to flower. The plants grow from 12in, to 18in. in height, and thrive in open positions, in most gar- den soils, preferably light rather than close and heavy. Miss Joky 11 's has daintv light blue blossoms, and there is a wb.ito" variety; hispanica has rich purple fldwers. Thin the seedlings from 4 to 6 in. apart. Torch Lily.—In practice, towards the end of April is the best time to lift,- divide, and replant this. Deep digging and manuring the ground is amply repaid in the good growth and abundant flowering of Knipho- fias. A ready method of dividing the clumps is to place two forks back to back in the centre and pull the handles outwards: Rufa, a Torch Lily from the Transvaal, is smaller in growth than the popular garden sorts. The flowers are very useful to cut for long- stemmed vases. Double Staging in Greenhous-e.-By double staging is meant one staging raised above another, with a space of Sin. to 12in. Its use is for those plants which though luxuria- ting in moist surroundings resent moisture overhead. In constructing a double staging, the ordinary or permanent one is covered with a thick layer of shingle, breeze, ashes, or cinders. A second portable trellis staging is erected at the required height above, the I first one supported by blocks, bricks, dram pipes, or flower pots. On this staging the plants are set, and to create the necessary moist surrounding, the material covering the lower staging is syringed or sprayed frequently, or otherwise moistened accoruinl- to requirements. Thus the atmosphere of the glasshouse remains moist although the plants themselves are dry. These conditions suit such amateur's orchids as Odonto- glossum and Cypripedium. Mulching.—A rather heavy dreading of yard manure will be of benefit to such things as raspberries and loganberries at this season. Owing to the wet period through which we have passed there will have been a good deal of late planting. Both trpp- and bushes put out late will derive great help from a coating of manure over th-e roots. Thift need not be of such a rich nature as advised for raspberries. Dwarf Beans.—In sheltered spots a few short rows of these may now be sown. Canadian Wonder is a useful and very pro- lific sort, but not so early aa Knight's Earliest of All. Parsnip.—It is not yet too late to make sowings of this. A medium-sized variety like Tender and True, sown during the next few days, will give useful roots by the close of the growing season. Leeks in Boxes.—Even in the coldest dis- trict these may now be planted into perma- nent quarters. Make the soil moderately firm before planting, burying the plants nearly to the tips of the leaves. Shalots.—Where these have made a few tnchae of top growth, give the soil a fair amount of soot, preferably just before a storm. A thorough hoeing the following day should put the crop right for the season un- less extra fine bulbs are wanted, in which case manure water next month will be an advantage. Early Carrots.—Where sowings of short- horn varieties were sown on warm borders for early use, thin out the plante if there is a tendency to overcrowd. If this is long delayed the crop is likely to be much later and less valuable than it should be. After thinning out, give the rows a good watering. Outdoor Tomatoes.-Plants intended for open-air culture must not be allowed to be- come badly pot bound, as such never start well, and even when repotted take a con- siderable time to make progress. Secure a well-filled 4tin. pot with a healthy plant, rather than a 3in. pot where the roots arq matted together.
ITRIPLE BOATING TRAGEDY.
I TRIPLE BOATING TRAGEDY. I The discovery of the dead body of a bo) lying across the gunwale of a half-sub- merged boat revealed a triple holiday tra. gedy on the Fiver Croue-h. Three boys, John" and Pollock Tc;°daJ€ and Leslie Macdonald, sailed out of Al- thorne Creek in a small boat, and nothing more was heard of them. About midday Mr. Bale was cruising in a yacht at the east end of Bridgemarsh Island when he noticed a half-submerged di-iftingboat. He imme- diately rowed to it in his dingy, and found the dead body of the elder TcasdaJe lying across the gunwale, and applied artificial respiration without result. A search has been made for the othet bodies without success. Two of the lads were the only sons of Mr. Teasdale, electrical engineer, of London and Althorne, and the other was the only son of Mr. Macdonald, of Althorne.
jWORRIED BY AIR RAIDS.
WORRIED BY AIR RAIDS. Richard Seddons, engine driver, of Greas- borough, Rotherham, who had been suffering from a nervous breakdown caused by worry about air raids over Yorkshire towns, was found drowned in a dam. It was stated at the inquest that he bad threatened to drown himself. A verdict of "Suicide during temporary insanity" was re- turned.
[No title]
Lieu t. -6orrimander C. G. Davey, O.B.E., has been elected Master of the Dartmooi Hunt. .£163 was realised at a sale of Army horses in Luton for a heavy draught horse. A gold ring has been bequeathed to a North London church by a woman vho wor- shiped there.
gin!H!!!iHn!HnnnHnHH!nHHn
gin!H!iHn!HnnnHnHH!nHHn<n!nHH!nnnniHin!!HHHnH!!nH!niHn!tHHnE 1 THE POULTRY YARD. ? IK I = Helpful Hints for Backyarders." By "COCKCROW." ta ^niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiHiiiiiitiimiiiiiiiiiiMMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiii it is rather surprising that ducks are no1 more popular with poultry-keepers. They are much less trouble to keep than hens, and they do not cost so much to feed and house. Probably a good many people are under the impression that a pond or a brook is essential for duck-keeping. That, how- ever, is not the case. If watei; is available, so much the better) ;since durka are made to swim; but it is quite possible to do well with ducks on dry- land. And the kind of dry land that is best for them is of a sandy, gravelly nature. Most of the ducks in this country are bred in low-lying districts, nc doubt because those districts are well watered. Nobody, however, need feel de- barred from going in for ducks because nc river runs through his garden. THE DUCK-HOUSE. Ducks are pro?table stock if they are kept on right lines. The housing of them is a simple and inexpensive matter compared with the housing of fowls. The space re- quired is much smaller, a few square feet of land being quite large enough to build the "home" on. Now, however much ducks like water, they must not live on ground i that is damp. That sounds strange, but it is nevertheless true. The floor of the run, ther-ef ore, must be perfectly free from dampness. It is a good plan to allow the ground on which the house is built to slope downwards a little from the bedplaoe. There, is then a better chance of dryness being maintained. Damp has been known to cause the death of a whole flock of the birds. Cover the floor with straw, and re- new this twice a week. Ventilation is as im- portant an item with ducks as it is with fowls. Let them have plenty of fresh air, but; do not Jet them be subject to draughts —they are dangerous. A SIMPLE DIETARY. Provided they are on a free range or in water, ducks can provide themselves with pretty well all the food they require. They are good foragers, and if allowed to roam about will find plenty of tit-bits and morsels of which they are very fond. They are par- ticularly partial to slugs, and will gobble up most other insects. If, however, it is not possible to let them have their freedom they will need more food. The first feed of the day should be of soft food, as for all other kinds of poultry. This should be given as early in the morning as possible. They are not big eaters, and should be given rather less 1-han is usually given to fowls. At mid-dav give them a little hard food, and the same late in the afternoon. Green food is as necessary for ducks as for fowls. Onion tops, dandelions, or clover, are all suitable for them. It is best to chop this greenstuff very finely. Grit must be given them, for this acts as teeth, and on it the birds masticate their food. Give them animal food of some sort. If possible let them roam about, for then they will find as much as they require in the ground. When digging a plot save* all the worms and in- sects you oome across. If you cannot do that, provide them with m6ftt from the leav- ings from table. This can be boiled in with their soft food.. THB INDIAN RUNNER. > The best breed of duck for laying pur- poses is the Indian Runner. So far as this cpuutry is concerned it was first introduced I into Cumberland, and is now well-known everywhere. It is called a runner because, unlike other ducks, it runs and does not waddle. Its legs are set far back, and it walks almost erect. The accepted shape is that of a champagne bottle-the bottle with the sloping shoulders. Several breeds have been evolved from crosses of Runners with Aylesburys, Cayngas, and other ducks. One of these breeds is the Orpington. The Indian Runner, being a small duck, is not of much use for the table, but some of the breeds evolved from the crosses are excel- lent both as tablo birds and layers. 1 THE AYLESBURY DUCK. 1 J The best breed of duck for fattening pur- poses is the Aylesbury. The plumage of this bird is snow-white. The head should be full, and the bill well set on to the skull, so that the beak should seem to be almost in a line from the top of the head to the tip. The bill should be long and of fresh colour, and with a slight fleshy excrescence where the feathers begin. The eye should be bright, perfectly black, and full. The legs of the breed are strong, with claws well webbed, and in colour a rich dark yellow or orange. The body is rather long, broad across the shoulders, and the neek- rather long and slender. The male birds should have a sharp curl in the tail. The keel or breast- bone should be long, deep, and straight. The eggs of the Aylesbury duck may be either white or green, and those of the same bird may be of either colour. Striking an average, the number of eggs an Aylesbury duck lays per season is anywhere between sixty-five and seventy. The duck matures at an early age. If wanted for table purposes it can be fattened quickly and cheaply, cer- tainly at a much less cost than it takes to fatten a fowl for the table. I THE CARE OF CHICKS. I Brooder chicks need careful watching. Regulate the temperature of the heated chamber according to the season. For the first few days the temperature should be kept up to about 90 deg. F., and then gradually reduced each week. If the chicks are overheated (says "The Poultry World") they will lie about the brooder, whereas if the temperature is too low they will crowd up into a corner. Overheated brooders are almost a certain cause of bowel complaint. Chicks that are running with a hen often appear to be "drooping" and ill at ease. j In such cases look out for head lice—these are particularly common in warm moist weather. Work well over the heads of the < chicks with a mateh stick, parting the fluff in order to expose the skin. If head lice are present they will be seen as small dark ob- jects adhering to the skin. As they are attached by their heade, which are em- bedded under the skin, it is no good trying to pull them out. The proper treatment is to apply a little sweet oil by means of the match. The oil fills up the pores of the in- sects' bodies, through which they breathe, thus cutting off their supply of air, and eventually destroyling them. Don't use pure paraffin, as it is too strong and burns the chicks, doing more harm than good, but a little paraffin diluted with twice as much sweet oil is very effective. The vents of young chicks will sometimes become blocked up with excreta which has dried on, this must be removed by bathing with warm water, after which the surface should be anointed with a little vaseline.
:!J IIIIII! II1I U 1111111…
:!J IIIIII! II1I U 1111111 IIUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII n 111111 gæ I FOOTBALL NOTES 1 I m æ By "WANDERER." = 5i 11111111111111 i 111111111111111111111111111111111 Æ As I have repeatedly given it as mv opinion,, that this season's International games ought to be treated as experimental contests with a view to finding good men who will serve us ,well in the future, I sup- pose I ought not to grumble very much at the side chosen to play for England against Scotland at Everton THE SURPRISE CENTRE-FORWARD. Let us examine some of the new men and see if their claims to.. International ability can be justified. I suppose the one big sur- prise selection was the choice of Puddefoot as an England centre-forward. Still, it ought never to surprise us very much who- ever is chosen as England's centre-forward because, as I have said on a previous occa- sion, a good centre-forward would be worth his weight in gold just now. We have no G. O. Smiths available, or even any centre- forward of such outstanding merit that his choice for the position as leader of Enf*- land's attack can be safely advocated. Puddefoot is a very fine club player, and I havo seen him play some very good -games, and score some wonderful goals. A RAPID RISE TO FAME. Another interesting forward experiment is the playing of young Robert Turnbull, of Bradford, at outside-right. When you con- sider that this is a position in which we have been very strong for some time past, the honour for the Bradford player is all the greater. Yet I am sure he deserves it, for his rise to fame has been rapid, and more than once he has caught the eye of the close critic as a coming man. THE BEST LIXE OF ALL. It is, however, the half-back line I like best of all, and I shall be very disappointed if the confidence of the selectors in Fleetwood, McCall, and Grimsdell is not justified. McCall we know as one -of those hard- working half-backs who are continually in the thick of the fray, breaking up attacks first in one place and then in another. I should not say that he is as good as Wedlock at his best, or even such a big help to his forwards as Charlie Roberts, say, but nevertheless, as we want first of all a breaker-up, McCall is a good choice. Fleetwood is another name we all know, but I expect some of my readers in the North of England may be asking, "Who is Grimsdell? WHO Is GRIMSDELL? Grimsdell is different from the average run of half-backs. I never saw a man who was so clever with his feet give such an impression of being hopelessly clumsy. And yet he can, and does, dribble like a forward, and is about as different from YcCaU. or Fleetwood as a half-back could possibly be. Grimsdell came from Watford to Tottenham some seven years ago; and even before the war was looked ui)on as a coming half-back. BLACKBURN FOR EVER! Of the new players on the English side only one now remains to whom we have not referred. This is Fred Duckworth, the left full back. Once again we find that the long arm of coincidence steps in, for it is rather 'peculm that when one gr?at Blackburn player in Bob Crompton drops out of all- ? Engl&nd teams 1Dother Blackburn full-back [should step in.