Papurau Newydd Cymru
Chwiliwch 15 miliwn o erthyglau papurau newydd Cymru
14 erthygl ar y dudalen hon
WAY OF THE WtND.
WAY OF THE WtND. According to the U.S. Meteorological Service, 95 per cent. of the winds above 10,000 feet in altitude, in both the United States and Europe, How from west to east. ,They, often attain velocities exceeding' 100 miles an hour, and 154 miles was observed near Chattanog'a, Tenn., in a wind of last November at a height of 28,000 feet. The tendency of the winds explains why nroet pioneer long air flights are from we<'t ? eat.
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BcneRcia! rains are falling throughout the 8tat-e -of New South Wales. Mme. Curi-p, the. co-discovercr of radmm, has been cipc.tcd a Professor of Radiology at Warsaw University. WoHingborough blast iron furnaces. which were closed owing to the coal tshert- age, have b&en re-opentd.
THE POULTRY YARD
THE POULTRY YARD mj Helpful Hints for "B&ckyaurders." By "COCKCROW." {ttt Little dimculty will be experienced bv the expert poultryman in judging' the age of the birds, but the novice will find himself quilt bafned unless he is aware of the foilowing points: In the case of the pullet, the ques- tion is quite simple. The surface of the flesh juet beneath the wings, on examination, will be found m&rked with family inter- spersed, rose-coloured veine. These are in- variably absent from birds over one year in age. A second test in the case of pullets is the fact that they carry a fair amount cf hair of a long silky texture; this disappears immediately after the first mo<ult. On the other hand. in the case of the adult hen, the skin ie altogether different. It will be found perfectly white and also free from either vei ns or hairs. By bearing these facts in mind it will be possible to estitiate at once whetner a bird is under or orer the line that divide's the juvenile from the adult stock. I ANATOMICAL EVIDENCE. The formation of the pelvic bones—that is, those in the lower part of the abdomen —furnishes further evidence. In a hen which has passed the pullet age, these bones will be found to be much less close together than 'before. When the bird is two years old, they are much more widely separated than at the age of one year. ThM makes it possible to detect a bird of two Tears from one of fifteen or eighteen months without hesitation. The shanks and claws afford a third useful age test. A young bird is dis- tinguished by the suppleness of the ekin of the claw; also the scales are fine and bright. As the bird grows older the skin gradually gets coarser and stronger: ako the scales harden. The nail of the first toe, owing to the fact that it hae to do most of the work, gets worn down with time. The eyelids are another feature that provides evidence. As the chicken ages, they begin to grow wrinkled, with the ultimate effect of pro- ducing a shrivelled appearance on the face, which steadily grows more and more pro- nounced. And finally, there is the most ,at- i<?fa<'tory and conclusive test of all-that of the wing' feathers. When the fowl is one year old its first moult takes place. At the conclusion of this, the "secondaries" in the plumage alter in shape, giving undisputable evidence of the change in age. This is the most important te&t cf all. 5nd must be learnt by practical experience. As to feeding fowts, tEere is a wide differ. ence in theory, but we find it advisabie to feed such food, and in eumcient quantities, as will keep the chickens growing every minute, for we are sure that if, for any reason, the growth is checked, the birds can never be what they would have been. Growing chickens are like growing children, they need food for the maintenance of bodily life as it is. and also to provide for a natural and steady growth. So much food is needed during the period of rapid develop- ment that it its dimcult to -overfeed, provided the right material is -furnished and the bird < are well housed and have plenty of exerctse. The small coops eerve both the&e purpose?, and we find that small quantities of food, frequently provided, a part of which is spaded into mellow ground, give ttc best results. VALUE OF GREEN FOOD. I I The necessity lor provMing iowis wlth a sufficient supply of green food h.M cfTen been prophasispd, but it is t-o important that no up"16.izy need be made for refc,7-riii- to it ig-aip, this time from the townsman's point of view. The poultry-keeper in a rural district has no -diSiculty in obtaining green food and to spare for his iowts. but the man whose poultry farm is a small backyard in a town often cannot get enough of it, or else it is not as fresh as he and_thc fowls could desire. Well. why should not the townsman make an effort to grow his own greenstuff, or, at any rate, a good portion of it? It M not such a dimcult matter as it may ap- pear at first sight. There ig tettuce, for in- stance, whic& is second only to gTaes &e green food for fowls. It is ac easy thing to get an ounce of &eed, divide it into five or six parts, and sow it at intervals of a month. Thus will be furnMbtd a constant supply of young plants, which may be thinned out as required, and fed fresh to the bird.s. The objection that the poultry- keeper has no garden ia not a fatal one. Ht may do something by sowing the l"ttuc seed in boxes, and if he is crajnped for room may stand the boxes and e-TOW his lettucee on the roof of the fowl-bouse. } FOR NEXT SRA80K. it is time to begin to think seriously about our breeding-stock for next season. Any cockerels that do not come up to ex- pectations should be either aotd or fattened for our own table. Naturally one keeps the best for oneself, but I have often found that neighbours are 'very glad to have the second best at moderate prices. It alway"s seems a great pity to kill birds of good strain for gome minor failing, which hae nothing whatever to do with their beWth or vigour. A mismarked bird, or one of unsatisfactory colour in its plumage, is often just as good for utility purposes as any of its handsomer companions. Cockerels of the long, Ia.nky order sbouM be fattened oS as soon as pos 6.:blc'. "Birds on stilts are an unproiitaibi type, and I ana certain that the -utility inp should cultivate short, thick-set legs in h <& fowls (says a writer in "'Farm Life ''). To breed from any other type is very foolj&h. Short legs and a long, deep breaet bone generally go together, and in the mal*' bird these points are of the greatest importance, WATCH THE WATER I have before referred to the absolute necessity of carefully watching the drink-. ing water given to the birda. It xs a great mistake to make use of metal water v.essel£, and a greater mistake to use such a6 are known as the automatic kind. as the con- tents of such get warm and unrefreshing. Metal is a conductor of beat, and that fact condemns it as a material for the construc- tion of water vessels. A good-sized open drinking vessel made of glazed earthenware will take some beating, and the best place for such a vessel is in the shadiest part of the run. I also have strongly advocated that water be changed several time8 during the day to ensure a cool drink for the birds, and have the vessel raised off the ground to prevent dirt reaching its contents when. the fowls scratch. It is to be remembered that it ig at the drinking vessel that disease is often spread, and that a little germicide, such as permanganate of potash, added to the wat-er will do good. A little oatmeal or pearl barley in n, noely-ground form is a good thing to add to the fowls' drinking wat.?r during periods of excessive heat, as similarly with this mea! has a cooling upon the biood.
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The master and nvc of the crew of the schooner Francis A, sunk in eoHision with the British steamer Lord Dcwnshirp, oS* Haluax, were dro.wnod. Lord Lonsda-le sustained a. cut head and hand owing to a slight coMisioti between hi< mctnr-car and a Di«.tor chafa-bauc nea: Rirkby Stephen. A man with a bald head ccrvered with tattoo marks in collared designs, inc!uding butterftips and stars. Tfas umotg applicantLq at Tha.mes Police-court.
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-i- ?U) [ALL RIGHTS RMMVM.] '0 ? THE MAN HUNT ? ?} By TOM GALLON, HH I Author of "Tatterley," "The Great Gay Road, &c. ? CHAPTER VII (Continue. i ENTER MR. JARMAX. "If she's innocent she will naturally come to me, or to someone else, inquiring for the loat keys," said Litchiield with a chuckle. "Well. 'take care of yourself, my dear fellow; I hope you won't encounter this man again." "If I do encounter him he won't be able to take me by surprise," growled Slade. "In anv case. I'm going off to those rooms in BI-'tomsbury to-night to nnd out what I can." They parted, and Boyd Litchneld took his way homewards across the Park. As a matter of 'fact, the poor gentleman did not quite know wlB.t to make of the business, and began to understand, in his own feeble way, that he had put his hand to something from which he could not now draw back, and which might involve him in ruin, financial and otherwise. Every now and then as he walked he shook his head despondently, and called himself hard and foolish names for ever having been led by that more dominant personality, Murdoch SIade. Nor were his fears lessened when, on reaching home, late though it was, he was informed that Hester Wake had not returned. Meanwhile, it behoves us to return to Manners, now happily recovered from the effects of some hard running and some very natural fears for his own safety. It was with a sort of savage exultation that he paused at last m a doorv.-ay and puffed at bi-i cigar, and laughed a little at the thought of what he had been through, and of how narrowly he had escaped. It was with an infinite satisfaction that he remembered how truly the blow be.?n struck that had krnocked Murdoch SIade oil his legs: his knucklea tingled still at the thought of it. But they let the matter rest here? That was the question: whether, knowing that someone was abroad with those precious keys in his possession, Murdoch Slade would wait a.nd do nothing. That was scarcely )ike!y: Shade's first objective would be those chambers to which naturally anyone .having those keys in his possession would turn:. It behoved Rodney Manners to ba quick about such work as he had in hand. And then—freedom! With such money as he had collected and could still collect from his rooms, and'with a decent suit of clothes, he could get out of the country and could start afreah. All sorts of impossible schemes for making money, and for sending for Hetty— sweet Hetty, who had stuck to him, and who ioved him, and whom he loved better than anything on earth now-occurred to him as possibilities in the near future. To-night must decide; to-night must see him decently clothed and with money in his pockets—a free mac.. He came at last to that place he knew so well. On how many nights, when he had been struggling and fighting to bring his great schemes to fruition, had he not come to this very door a tired and jaded man, and climbed these stairs nud so found himself at home. It had been g.od then to sink into an €My chair and to light a pipe, and to know that for a few hours at l-east nothmg and no one could disturb him. He had never thought to come back like this—a- hunted man. stealing his own property from his own rooms. There waa no one about, save on the oppo- site side of the road, a slowly pacing pair of lovers, intent upon each other this Sunday night. The streets were very silent. He had his key rcadv, and he came to the door at last, leading 'into the great old house at the top of which his rooms were situated. He looked all round about him as he slipped the key into the lock; there waa no one in sight. He opened the door and found himself in the dark hall, closed the door, and began to mount the stairs. And as he mounted it occurred to him to wonder whether by any chance lie should find Kirby. the man-ser- vant, still in his rooms, and if so what re- ception he was hkely to meet with at the nian'a hands. Kirby might n've a. difficulty. He reached the door leading to his rooms, and stood there for a moment listening. There ",IS not a sound: and after a time he slipped his key into the lock and, mor< cautiously than he 'had ever done before. opened the door and went in. Once inside, with the door closed, be felt safer. He switched on the light, and then, re- membering how very heavily Eirby always ilet)t, tip-toed across to the door of the man'a room ai:<I very gently pushed it open. He stood waiting and listening, for Eirby's snoring had always been a source of annoy- ance to him. But to-night no sound of snoring broke the ghostly silence of the place. A little surprised, he felt about for the switch beside the door, and turned ou,, the tight. There :.vas no one there. The bed was unoccupied, and was mdeed quite neatly made, ready for any tenant that might want to occupy it. Eirby's hats and caps and coats had all been cleared away from their pega along one wall. It was obvious that Eirby had gone. Manners went into his sitting-room and turned on the light there. Nothing changed, 60 far as he could see at a superficial glance; just the old comfortable room, with everv- thing as it had always been. Manners gave a sigh of relief, and moved more noisily about the place, without taking the trouble to move on tip-toe. A little dust on one of the tables across winch he drew his fingers assured him that no o;ie had becm there, for some few days at least. He puHed off the long overcoat, and tossed it on a chair, feeling jaded and weary, he sank dov.-n into his easy chair, leaned his head back, and gave a sigh of relief. "This is a strange home-coming," he said with a little rueful laugh. "Hunted and badgered—with no name and no place in the world, I never contemplated this when I stepped out of life. Well, surely on a Sun- day night. no one will come here. I can have a rest, and take a suit of clothes and some money, and get away. Heaven bless Hetty for those keys!" He went about what he had to do in a leisurely fashion. He lighted a cigar and mixed himself some whisky and soda, and then moved about the room, humming softly to himself, very well contented for once with life generfUy. He made a little collection of the clothes and linen he wanted, and was in the very act of cramming them into a bag that could be easily carried, when he stopped, on his knees beside the bag, listen- ing. In that silent house, where every sound cor.Id be heard, one sound came to him clearly. Someone with a heavy tread was mounting the stairs. Manners switched off the light, got across to the chair on which his overcoat had been Rung and secured the revolver from the pocket of it. He slipped the weapon into the ide-pocket of his jacket and kept his hand upon it. It might be necessary to overawe someone in a moment. The he¡Yy footsteps came on, the door was pushed open, and someone came into the darkened room; a hand felt for the switch, and in a moment flooded the room with light. And at the sight of the man standing there, Rodney Manners forgot the revolver and everything else; stood indeed like a man turned to stone, staring at the intruder. For it was the big man with the heavy beard whom he bad encountered in the ent- ing-house some two davs before, and v.'ho Lad told him that he knew him, and the amazing i,,ii-t of it was that the big man did not seem in the least surprised at fin'ding him there. Manners, after his first astonisn- ment was over. made move towards the door, and found himself in a moment looking down the muzzle of a formidable revolver which the big man had whipped out and had presented straight at him. "Don't move." said the big man quieUy. "or it will be the worse for you. If you take your hand out of vour pocket with anything in it I shall ih'c fir.st. Let me introduce my- setf. Mv name is Jarm:—Erasmus Jnr- man. I thought w should meet agaiu. Woo't you sit down?" < CHAPTER VIII. JA'RMAN DRIVES A JAIWAI. It seemed to Manners, standing there took- iT' into the muzzle of Jarmaa's revolver, as r though thia strange man had stepped into his story without being really connected with h. it is the unexpected always that bap- rena, and so it had come abuut tJiat Man- ners, who had been watchful of everyone wh<Mn he knew, and had set himself to guard against every known possibility of detection, nuw found himself suddenly faced by a man who waa an utter stranger, and whom he could not remember as being connected in any way with his own past life. The in- ttinct of the hunted man to turn at bay :;ame upon him; ho answered with some sternness Jarma.n'a request that he should tit down. "I should like to know fust what right you have to be hera? I never heard of you, he said incautiously. "A man who steals into someone el&e'a rooms late at night is scarcely likely to have heard of me," was Jarman's comment to that. "After all, a man has the right to walk into his own place, I suppose, by the Bimple process of unlocking the door. I be- iievo it's generally done." He was still toyrng with the revolver and Btill keeping a wary ey.e upon Mannf.rs. Manners, for his part, began to have an un- easy feeling that in some extraordinary way he had got into the wrong set of chambers. He found himself actually glancing round. to be sure that he was in those rooms he re- membered so well. Jarman, for his part, seemed rather amused at the situation; his mouth twisted a little under his big mous- tache and beard. Manners looked at him helplessly, and in his next remark essayed a different tone. "But—but where did you get the key?" "Whero does one generally get a key when cm takes chambers—or rooms—or whatever you like to call them?" demanded Jarrnaa good-humour&dly. "Really, my friend, for a man who breaks into another's promts without so much as by your leave, and makes himself very much at nome, you are about the coolest haHd I've come across. Come, I think I've got the whip hand." he added more sternly, as he Fevelled the revolver again. "Put your shooter on that table, No tricks, mind." Manners rejected that violence would not serve his purpose, and that the other had in- deed got the whip hand. He pulled out his revolver and tossed it on the table. The big man took a step forward, picked it up, and dropped it into his pocket; then put his own reTolver into the other pocket. "We caM now talk comfortably, and not quite so melodramatically," said Jarman. "You and I have got to have a little understanding about quite a lot of matters, and we can't begin too soon. I told you I thought that we should meet again, and that, too, at an early date. I'm a man of sociable habits—one that loves his fellow-man. If )ou'll be good enough to pasa the decanter and Lhc other necessary things, we can talk more easily pith a little refreshment." He spoko in such a tone of authority, easy though that tone was, that Manners found himself actually passing his own whisky across to the man, and even opening a box of cigars. And all the time he had that un- comfortable feeling that Jarman was watch- ing him narrowly, and taking in pvpry hit of him, as it were, from his cheap boots to the ditigy muffler round his throat. Jarman scarcely re-laxed his gaze when he poured himself out some whisky, and signed to Man- ,ners to do the same indeed, these two, who were playing so strange a game, the movea of which were unknown to at least one of them, watched each other furtively the whole time. "Perhaps you'll sit down now?** suggested the big ma<n. T*hen, as Manners shook his head—"No? Very well—then I will. And I beg, for your own sake. that vou won't do anything rash, because if you do you'll pro- bably get hurt. You're a lot younger than I am—but I've knocked a'hout a bit in all parts of the world, and I'm very tough. More that. I'm armed, and not. I hope that 58 a good on'e.'9 Manners choked back the explosive answer .hat rose kI, his lips that he ought to kno, vhat the cigar was worth, if anvb<x!v did, md nodded agajn. The big man seated him- )€}f on a chair at the end of the table, and .:lC leaned his arms on tile table &nd began to ask questions. "What's your namff Manners gave again that name he hid civen before at the edge of the woods. "Robert MM'sh," he said shortly. "Well, Mr. Robert Marsh, perhaps you'll tell me what brings you here at this hour, and what your particular errand may hap- pen to be< In the first place, how did you get in? '"That's my affair, said Manners shortly. "Sumce it that you find me here." "Well, you don't seem to have broken in," said Jarman, not in the least displeased ap- parently by the answer. "The windows are too high fiom the ground, and the lock of the outer door doesn't appear to be damaged. Therefore, we'll take it that you had a key. So far, so good. Why did you come here?" "To—to look over the place," faltered Manners. "With the object of taking the premises, perhaps?** suggested the other, with a little laugh and a glance at Manners' shabby appearance. "If so, you're too late. I've taken them mynelf." "You h&ve? exclaimed Manners, looking at him in amazement. "Why not?" retorted the other. "Lately arrived in England, I wanted somewhere to live. and I don't care much for an hotel. These rooms are very convenient—therefore I stop here." He <?troke<I his great beard and looked round the place. Quite well furnished, too." "But how did you get them—I mean, the Furniture and everything? Whom did you take them from?" asked Manners, with' an indignation he could not conceal. Jarman laughed outright, and puffed meditatively at his ei,(-ar for a moment or hvo before replying. "One man's loss, I've been told, is another man's opportunity," he said. The man who had this place is dead; and he hadn't cleared up things very nicely before he took his last journey. His name was Rodney Manners, and quite a Lot of unkind things arc being said about him namue nkind a ?? people. by quite a lot of people." "I know that," broke in Manners incau- tiously. "You know that, do you?" said Jarman, tooking at him keenly for a moment. "Well. be managed things so badly th:ít he even left this place with an old servant to look after it, and without a word to anybody how it wae to be disposed of. That's where I came in, in a double sense. Money will do anything, you know I paid off the old ser- vant handsomely—very handsomely indeed- and told him that I had come to take charge of the place and tbt, furniture and every- thing else. So he went—very well pleased to find himself so well out of a dimculty— and here I am." The big man spread out his hands and smiled, and lookctf at the helpless Manners. "But who are you—and what have you to do with the business?" demanded Mannera. "Mr. Robert Marsh," said Jarman slowly, as he wagged a forefinger at him, "that is what I am going to explain to you. My name, as I have already told you. is Erasmus Jarman, and in a certain part of the world from which I come the name of Erasmas Jarman spells money in something like six hgures, or perhaps a bit over,' and when Erasmus Jarman makes up his mind he's (r:)inCl' to do a thing, he does it, and nothing holds him back. He made up his mind, for instance, that he was going to take this set of rooms, and he didn't mind what he paid for them. If by any chance creditors come along and claim what is here, he won't mind paying them off and keeping the things. Now do you understand? "Not in the least," asserted Manners. "I don't s&e what you have to do with it; I d.)n't think the dei-,d man would have thanked you ior interfering in his affairs." Mr. Jarman winked solemnly. "But then, yuu see-he f'an't interfere, and doesn't knew anything about it. Rodney Manners is dead and done for; we don't count him in t'lG scheme of tiling's at all. There are only Hvo people concerned at the moment: one is myself, and the other is you—Mr. Robert Marsh. "What have I to do with it?" demanded Manners in astonishment. "Everythiùg," Wa" Mie instant retort. "It's quite lucky we met to-night; you will be very useful to me." I came in here by chance; I will go out the way I came," said Manners quickly. And then, M Jarman shook his head slowly, he went on with sudden emphasis: "Good Heavens, man—you don't want to detain me here. I've etolen nothing—I've done nothing wrong; say, if you will, that I've blundered into the wrong set of rooms; there's no harm in that—is there?" I'm not going into the why or the wherefore of things," said Jarman stolidly, "I'm only saying what I'm gt'ing to do. When you come to think of it, I think you must admit that I'm letting you off rathel cheaply; I might hand you over to the police, you know." That reflection had already crossed Man- ners' mind; he winced as it was put to him again. He was about to start a little special pleading on his own account, when Jarman held up his hand and glanced towards the door. There had sounded in the outer haH the faint, quick tinkle of a bell. "We have a visitor apparently," said Jar- man, looking straight at Manners. "I must go down and let our visitor in." He roae to hi; feet tM he spoke. "You needn't go down; there's an arrangement in the hall by which you can open the outer door," said Manners quickly, and realised in a moment that that was a piece of knowledge he should not have had. "Now I wonder how you knew that?'* said Jarman placidly, as he made a move- ment towards the hall. "I bought the keya and everything else from the servant, but he didn't ta me of any arrangement for opening the lower door. Perhaps you'll be good enough to show me." "I have seen it worked-once or twice," said Manners feebly as he went towards the hall. "You see-I was a friend-a sort of friend of Rodney Manners." "Which would account for a gre&t many things—wouldn't it?" said Jarman. The contrivance for opening the lower door was a very simple one, yet a very costly one; it was a special invention—an electrical contrivance by which, when a switch was moved, the latch of the outer door slipped back automatically, and the door opened. Manners' hand was almost upon it, when he stopped, with a blank ex- pression of countenance, and faced' round I upon the other man. up"on ''Veil, what's the -matter?*' asked Jar- man. "I—I can't do it," faltered Manners, with a whit-e face. "He—he mustn't come up." For it had Hashed upon Manners that this could be no other than Murdoch Slade, the man with whom ho had had an encounter in the darkened office in the City that very evening. Murdoch Slade would know that the man who could enter the omce with the stolen bunch of keys would have equally ready access to Rodney Manners' chambers; and Murdoch Slade was not the man to leave a mystery unsolved if he could follow it out to any conclusion. "I know who this is-and he mustn't come I Jp, and he mustn't see me," he stammered in alarm. "On my word of honour, Mr. Jarman, I will do anything and everything you require of me if you will not bring me face to face with this man." The bell rang again at that moment; but Jarman took no notice of it. "It may not be the man you expect," he said quietly. "What's his name-and how shall I know him?" **If he's the man I think." replied Man- ners, with a laugh, "you'll know him by a badly damaged face. Quite a recent acci- dent that, I assure you. And his name is Murdoch Slade." The bell rang again. Jarman pointed quickly to the room they had left, and gripped Manners by the arm. "Go in there and through into one of the inner rooms," he said. "I'll see you're not dis- covered. Here—move the switch first; I don't understand it," he added. "Move it 'back again when you hear him coming up the stairs; that closes the door," said Manners; and vanished into the inner room. Jarman, for his part, calmly opened the door leading on to the staircase, and stepped out, ally looked over the stairhead at the man coming slowly up. He saw him come up, flight after night; by the time the visitor had reached the last landing, and stood under the electric light, J:u'm:ui was standing in the doorway, wait- ing to receive hi- n. "A badly damaged face, indeed—and not a nice face at the best," thought Jarman tc himself. Aloud he said: "Mr. Murdoch Slade, I believe?" Stade was perhaps as much surprised t fmd himself greeted in that fashion as to tind an utter stranger, and with by no means a clean-shaven face, apparently in possession of Rodney Manners' rooms. He stared blankly at Jarman for a moment, and then blurted out: "How the devil do you come to know my name?" "There are quite a lot of things I know," said Jarman easily. "Don't let it worry you. By the fact of your ringing my bell I presume you wished to see me. Won't you come in ?" "I didn't want to see yon at all; I don't ev&n know you," grumbled Slade, as he fol- lowed the other man into the hall. Then, as Jurman walked into the sitting-room— managing adroitly to remove the second glass from the table, and to slip it behind some books upon the mantelshelf—Slade added: "I sav, do you live here?" "It looks like it-doesn't. it?" said Jarman pleasantly. "Now, sir, if you'll state your business I shall be glad, because, you see, it's really very late, and I'm a simple sort of person that goes to bed early whenever Dosa'ble." (To be Continued.)
STALE BREAD.
STALE BREAD. Generally speaking, everybody knowa what state bread is, but it has remained for a Dutch scientist. Prof. J. R. Eatz, of Amsterdam, to investigate the actual causea of the change from freeh bread to stale bread. As the result of his researches he 3omcs to the conclusion that the phenome- non is not due merely to a loss of moisture, as most people suppose, but depends, on the contrary, almost exclusively upon the tem- perature; moreover, it is what is called a reversible phenomenon, i.e., under certain conditions stale bread can be restored to the tate of freah bread, recovering the quali- Lics temporarily lost. According to Mr. Katz, the starchy components of the bread appear to be entirely responsible for the transformation, the nitrogenous eubst.a.nces playing no part in the change. The proof that the staleness is not caused merely by loss of moisture is twofold; in the first place, the bread, even when kept :n a. closed jar to avoid too rapid dessica- tion, is nevertheless stale at the end of 24 hours, and secondly, other things being equal, the crumbs will remain fresh and soft and retain their flavour if the surrounding temperature be kept at 60 to 70 degrees Centigrade. In addition. Prof. Katz found by direct experiment that bread taken from the oven and kept for 48 hours remains fresh of grows stale according to the temperature.
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In fulfilment of hia dying wish, Eng- Commander Walthen Swift, R.N., was buried 12 miles out at seat fy(otu Peterhead, Abcrdeenshire. The remains were taken in a captured German trawler to a destroyer, which then tsta&med out in a rough sea. Motor robbers made off with a £500 crca.m.-coloured car at Nottingham, taking it out of a private garage, and locking the door behind them. Sir Joseph Ward, New Zealand Ministej of Finance, has resigned from the Nationa) Government, as he considers its object has been achieved, and that a political trr.ce is no longer necessary.
PENSION PROBLEMS: HOW TO SOLVE…
PENSION PROBLEMS: HOW TO SOLVE THEM. I By AN EXPERT. A Further Statement as to the New Rate< of the F!at Rate Pension—Ex-Service Men are not to be Deluded A Friendly "Chat" with the Demobilised—About Agricultural Training for Ex-officers- What is Being Done with the Canteen Funds. FREE ADVICE TO OUR READERS. Disabled men and widows in receipt of the Hat rate pension are most naturahy think- ing a great deal about the increased rates that were lately promised. In order that some of you, at any rate, tihall be able to see at a glance how you will stand when these rates come into force, I append the following statement: New Scale (total disablement).—Men: Single, 40s. weekly. Married, wife, no chil- dren. 50s. Married, wife, one child. 57s. 6d. Married, wife, to children. 63s. 6d. MaMried, wife, three children, 69s. 6d. For each subsequent child, 6s. Tite rates for partial disablement are fixed :l.ccording to the percentage of disability: thus, for a 50 per cent. disability, a married man with two children may receive 31s. 9d. instead of 23s. 6d. The rates for higher ranks are proportionately greater. The new flat rate pensions for privates' widows will be as follows: Widow under 40, no children, 20s. Widow over 40, no chil- dren, 26s. Sd. Widow (any age), one child, 36s. iM. Widow (any age), two children, I {4s. 2d. Widow (any age), three children, 50s. 2d. For each subsequent child. &s. I wonder how it is. that the handful of dangerous lunatics who call themselves Bolshevists, seem to labour under the delu- eion that because an ex-service man hap pens to have a grievance, he is therefore rip" for mischief. The boys .who fought xnd oled and died to overthrow cue tyranny. and to safeguard our national honour and integrity, are the last men in the world to submit to a tyrannv v.-hich would be far worse than the PrussMn yoke. Wherever Bolshevism rules, trade unionism disap- pears, and anarchy takes the place of order. < < Demobilisa.b!c soldiers who wish to be de- mobilised while on leave from overseas. or from a unit in the United Kingdom, should &ct as fellows: Wherever they may be tem- pora.rily located, they should make their applications, not to the War Omce, but to the nearest local headquarters of any for- mation which may be a command beM- quarters, or the headquarters of a garrison or unit This arrangement has been made in the interests of dcmobi!isab]e men. It enables them to go to the first omcer in their locality, who is authorised to take up each case with all despatch. < As part of the Government schemes of higher education and training' of ex-service omcers, provision is mode by the Board of Agriculture for financial assistance for ,t icultiiril training by means of grants for residential training with t-clected farmers, and agricultural scholarship :'t .Lpr'roved universities, or -.p.;ricultiiril ccl- Mg<*S In view of the numerous applications which are still being received, the Bcurd have decided that no application either for a grant for training on a farm. cr tor a .scholarship. c.m be- entcrtahied bv them (1) from ex-omcers who were demobilised by July 31. 1910, unless the application:- h-Ave been lodged at the appropriate Di-trict Directorates of the Ministry of Labour on or before Aug. 31, 1919; (3) from omcers who (2) from o fl i cere, w l o have not been demobilised by July 31, 1919, unless applications are received by Decem- ber 31, 1919, except in cases in whiob it be shown that for military reasons the ap- plications could not have been made by that date. Particulars of th&e farm training grants, of agricultural scholarships, and of the manner of making application, are given in the booklet entitled "Land Settlement in the Mother Country," which can be ob- tained either from the office.3 of the Board of Agriculture, 72, Victoria-street, London. S.W. 1, or from any District Directorate 01 the Appointments Branch, Ministry cf Labour, the address of which can be ob- tained at any post office. Non-demobilised omcers should make their applications on Army Form Z15 or Na.vy Form S1299. Warrant officers, non-commissioned omeer. and men i" the ranks of suitable educa- tional promise are also eligible for these grants. < The Executive Committee of the United Services Fund, which has been created to deal with the distribution of the pronto m-jde by the canteens during the war, has settled down to serious business under the chairmanship of gir Julian Byng. It is estimated that there is something like .£7.000,000 to be distributed. Both serving <<nd ex-service men are on the committees that have been eet up for various purposes. The magnitude of the work renders it abso- lutely necessary that applications for'assist- ance should come through the organisations which already exist for helping' 0 ex-service ''mcers and men. ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. I C. S. (Paddington).-Ask your Local WaT Pensions Committee (the nearest Post OfMce will -give you the address) to assist vou in putting forward your case to the Pensions Appeal Tri bunal. C. W. A. (near Ashford).—Make youl claim through your nearest Local War Pen- sions Committee, and nsk to be medically examined. The Post Omce wiH give you the address of the Committee. Inquiries" about Service pension should be addressed to the Secretary, Chc.lsea Commi:isioJlcr,s, Royal Hospital, Chelsea, London, S.W. 3. 0. R.—&ec answer to C. S. (Paddington) above. F. F. L. (Headccrn) —I do not think the gratuity applies to your case. You had better write to the Canadian Pensions and Allowances H-eadquarters. 103, Oxford- Rtreet, London, S.W A. J. P. T ati h.-i N- i n inquires made about the <nce, and wil) reply through this paper :)g .oon as the information is to hand. (2.) If your R:utor sen. was under the age of 26 at the outbreak of the war. or at the date of his joining up for duty, if later; had not married, and has left no child or <:ther dependent iu receipt of or eligible for pen- sion. you &hou!d apply for a fiat rate parent's pension cf 5," a week to your Local War Pensions Committee, w hose ad- dress you will obtain at the Post Omca. Report the result to me through this paper. Our Pensions Expert is anxious t? assist cailors and soldiers and their wives and de- pendents in dea!!nsr with intricaciea of the War Pensions System. Addrc<ss your queries to "Pensions Ex- pert," e/o Editor of this paper. All essen- tial facts should be stated as briefly pos- sible, such as name, number, rank, regi- ment of s&Idier, name and rating c-f 6a:!or, particulars of families and separation al- lowance and (in inquiries concerning- civil lia-bilities) pre-war or pre-enlistment in- come, present or war income, and ful! lia- bilities. Do not send any documents, birth certincntes, or àischrg-e papers, etc. Will correspondents please make a point I of ecn ling their re2'iinGntal numbc.r, rank, name, and regiment?
[No title]
A strike of deckers, who are demanding an eIht-hollr day aitd a daily wage ft IGs. 6d., has lH-un at MarlcilJes. S pr'ruiat-ou hi new ba.r!py In the Istc c* Wight ha.s fRllt 1m thp rricè to £5 a quarter f(7r choicest samples for malting purposes. Two suspected casc-s of swine f-ever havf) occurred at Ashby-d<a-Zouch, ard two other cases haYc bcc-ii r'portèd at Co]eortoii.
- I--? THIS WEEK IN THE GARDEN.…
I- ? THIS WEEK IN THE GARDEN. JSJ "Fruits that Mossonn first will first be Love-in-a-Mist.—There is something fa.s- cinating about Miss Jf-kyII's Cornnower- blue, L(>ve-in-a,-Nlist. It is attractive in the garden and useful for vasee, and is a Favourite for 'button-holes and .-prays. The seeds must be sown in an open position where the plants are to flower, as the Love- in-a-Mist (Nigella) is difficult to transplant with success. Lifting ChrysanthenLun.s,-Prepare to lift Chrysanthemums now, as the possibility of early frost damaging the buds has t-o be considered. With the aid of a spade, cut all round each plant, a few inches from the stem. Leave them for a week; then they can be lifted with a nice baH of soil around the roots, and transferred to pots of the re- quired size. After potting-, give a good -watering, and stand them in position -where they can be shaded for a few days. Use the syringe daily for a time. Pears.—Choice Y.arlptle= should be netted where birds arc liable to peck fruit. Watch closely early-ripening sorts such as Clapp's Favourite or Jargone))e. These varieties are poor in quality when kept long after gathering. They should be taken from the trees directly the foot stalk parts readily from the branch. Young Strawberries.—Plants put out a short time ago must have the hoe kept go- ing amongst them. If dry weather is ex- perienced water must be apphed as needed. This does not mean watering every dny, but probably once or twice a week if the work is properly done. If these plants- are to be successful* next ypat they must be en- couraged to make progress beiore weather conditions stop growth. Cuttings of St. John's Wort.—Insert cut- tings of Hypericum in a cold frame. Three favourites are: calvcinum, Eenrvi, and mooerianum. All have rich yellow blos- soms and are vaJua.b!e for the front of the shrubbery border. The St. John's Worts thrive in most soils, do quite tveJI in a con- fined town garden, and flower freely on a north border. Cra,ul a.. -This old-fashioned newer, bet- ter known as Ealosanthe, is valuable for the cool greenhouse. Insert growths which have not flowered as cuttings. Cut the old flower stems back to nrm wood, from which new growths will push. In common with other succulent plants, the soil must be very open, one-third being old mortar rubble, p''wdered brick, and coarse sand. Larkspur.—This is nature's season for sowing seed of hardy annuals falling from the ripening pods. In cottage gardens it ie seldom necessary to sow larkspur seeds, as sufficient self-sown seedlings come ap each year. Autumn-sown annuals are more sturdy, grow, as a rule, lirger, and ftbwer easier and more freely than when sown in spring'. The grower has choice of several sorta: stock-lowered, 3 feet, a tall branch- ing strain; Emperor, branching plants, 2 feet; and Dwarf Rocket, douMe-Bowered, compact plants, 1 foot high. Silver Leaf.—The Silver Le&f trouble with p!nms seems likely to remain unless drastic measures are taken. It is not al- ways easy to give advice. So long as trees continue-to bear/which e at times they will do, growers are not ready to cut out thejr trees. Remove and bUl:n aJI dead shoots and branooes as they are found. < < Fallen Fruit.—There is always soir? fruit dropping to the ground from on-o cau-c or another. The chief cause is from rough winds at this season, when many sorts are maturing. Have this gathered up each day and put to some u&e. A-U dessert peart3 which faU will be found good for stewing, if they are too bruised for eto-ring. Apples can be used in many vays; they can be boiled with other 'fruite for preserving. Fruit Gathering—Before removing any fruit ascertain that ":hey are in n ripe enough condition. This can be done by racing the fruit gently to a horizontal position, and if they are ready for gather- 'ing they will part easily from the stem. Another way to make sure that they are ready for gathering is to remove several fruits from dinerent parts of the tree and cut them in half. Note the colour of the :pip: if dark brown they will be ready, but if their colour is between white and brown allow days more. Do not gather apples and pear:? so that they oome away from the tree without their stalks or with- out a spur of fruit bud, but see that the stalk id parted at the correct juncture with the branch. Handle all fruit carefully at all times. Spring Cabba-ge.—Guard against an over- crowded seed-bed or row; otherwise the plants, which are succulent, are very liable to be injured or destroyed by fI'û6t. Runner Beans.—Continue to give these ample supplies of manure water. Make a point of gathering' all poda before they get old; even a few ripening pods retard pio- duction. Potatocv-Lift 'maincrop potatoes before the haulm <Mes down. Before storing for winter .select both seed and the eytra large tubers. If this is done it will «ave much work la-ter on. Broccoli.—Endeavour to get all cf thia family nrmly established in permanent quarters by the end of the month. Qujte large p!ante may be successfully trans- planted if a trowel is u&ed and a good watering follows. Caulinower.—ThM appreciates a ve'y lib- eral diet; plants growing- in poor soil rare- ly give good 'heads. To- hasten growth and increase the size, sprinkle guano or fowl manure between the plants, afterwards well stirring the soil with the hoe. Late-sown Carrots.-Phv timely attention to the thinning and watering' of these. Al- ways endeavour to remove surplus seedling's while the soil is moist, following this up with a good watering to eohdify the eoii. Use the hoe frequently; an occasional duct- ing- of soot will be an advantage. The Scarlet Sage.—SaIvia. Fireball, or Giory of Zurich, should be a feature in the conservatory. From 15 inches to 18 inches high. the compact bushy pts newer from July to September when eeeds are sown or cuttings are inserted early in the year. The later varieties, gra.Bdinora ,Sèarlet Queen) and Triumph should soon be brought into the greenbottee from outside Spanish and English Irises —For beda f- ,1 borders, and to supply quantities of Sobers for cutting, both these Irises should be freely planted. The Spanish section newer in June, the EngTish varieties ex- tending the season to July. Unless particu- lar colours are required, lea-re the selection to the norict, ordering, for instance, 100 bulbs in ten named varieties. For prefer- ence, plant in a deeply-dug, rich and light soil. Set out the bulbs four to six inches apart, and plant three inches deep. the wider distance for the English sorts, which are conc-iderably more vigorous. Peaches.—Many of the trees will be cleared of fruit, and tbeae should at once have a good washing from the hose or syringe. Clear water is all that is needed ni many cases, but where the trees have been troubled with insecta an insecticide may be used, The work should be done without delay. Onions.—Even where the tops of ex.hHn- tion onions show no signs of turning brown it will not be wise to apply stimulants after now, for even though this may increase the size the trifle thus gained ? nothing com- pared to the loss of good keeping quality, so characteristic of these l&rge buFbs -when feeding is continued late in the season. Celery.—TVhen earIy-Ma-nehed sticks are required steps may now be taken to secure them. Sheets of brown paper or cardboard ensure perfectly blanched hea-rts, but wher<t these article" are required for home use, the old-fashioned plan of earthing-wp is to be recommended. WeH water the row be- fore adding the soil, and dei&y any earthing UBtil the leave.s are dry.
FOR SHAVERS.
FOR SHAVERS. A hint to eelf-shavers is contained in the statement that the shaving brush is now one of the adaptations of the familiar rubber sponge. A cylinder of the sponge, two inches in diameter and somewhat longer, is compressed at one end and fitted to a handle; and this leaves the other end rounded out in the form convenient for t,er- vice. This brush is claimed to be pmcient and satisfactory for rubbing lather into the beard, ajid likely to be eater than the shaving brush with its risk of anthrax. The new device would have to be personally experimented with before judgment could be honestly given as to ita nterits.
VALUE OF YAWNING.
VALUE OF YAWNING. There ia good reason why we yawn; in fact, yawning, according to physiologists, may often answer a two-fold puqJose. Fir,t, a." an iuvotuntray action, it is a natural in- stinctive expression of the body's vital and supreme need of oxygen—the "burner-up" of waste material which poisons and debili- tates your blood and saps your health, em- c iency, and general well bein, It is -iauure4g way oi gemng moreajr. and so more oxygen, into your lungs and thence in- to your blood, where it burns up or ''oxy- diaes" all impurities. The very fact of yawning io, however, evidence that impuri- ties are present in your blood. When this is the case you require ftn ''aid to nature" in eliminating them. That irre- sistible desire to yawn is a warning which you cannob afford to ignore: g-out, rheumat- ism, lumbago, sciatica,, headache, biliousness, migraine, lassitude, debility, malaife—these and many other ills are held to be common consequences of such neglect. The natural act of yawning is also to exercise the ears as a methcd of avoiding deafness, partial or complete.
PAINT POT CLEANING.
PAINT POT CLEANING. Needless to sav, the painter's pot soon be- comes overloaded with paint and varnii-.h, which hardens on the edges and the sides, and which needs to be regularly cleaned. To make this accumulation easy to remove, always place the pot, when the job is com- pleted, uifo clean water until time is found to clean it in the regular way. A vessel with boiling water and washing soda is a good method for cleaning these vessels. Save all the soda water for future use of a similar kmd. For the paint shop prepare two tube or receptacles for a lye (potash) bath and a clean water bath. The tubs may easily be made by cutting an oil barrel in half, and a strong solution of lye should be put in one tub. Drop the vessels in this bath as they become coated, at least once a week, Saturday 1>eiug a good day, to make a clean-up for the next week. Scrape off all the loose material as it becomes softened and scrub in running water, using the other half barrel for the cleaning operation, and by this process you will find the job will automatically become periodically more easy.
SOME SURPRtSEI
SOME SURPRtSEI What a terrible surprise we all should get if a comet hit the earth' And then -what would happen? Would our g-Iobe be con- sumed with a flash of fire or would we ever notice it? Comets are enormous bodies in point of size, but insignificant in mass. They keep all they have in the display window and leave nothing for the shelves. They are frequently seen with a diameter through the head of a million miles. A body of this size is aB bulky as the sun it- self. Several comets have had tails fifty or sixty million miles long. If an object as big as this and as dense as a planet were projected into the eoLaj system all the planets would be jerked from their orbits bv its attraction and might never revolve again as they did before. The individual particles composing a comet ny along in independent paths about the &un a few yards or rods apart. If a comet hit the earth—or, rather, if the earth encountered a comet—our globe would simply drill a hole through it, much as a bullet would plough through a- huge cloud of fog. The visible results of such an encounter would be a meteoric shower, or, as it is sometimes called, a faJl of shooting stars.