i89i 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER 
427 
power of every man to work with God for 
the redemption of his fellow men never 
faltered in him. I do not know by what 
process it was wrought into his soul, 
whether he inherited it; whether it came 
because of religious instruction; whether 
he was born so; but all the time I knew 
him his faith was so temperamental—so 
constitutional, so in the very roots of his 
being—that I doubt whether he could have 
defined or accounted for it himself. The 
Christianity which he believed in was a 
broad, catholic Christianity, greater than 
all human divining. In his later years I 
do not think he went much to church. His 
mind was an electric mind, and by the 
time the minister had finished the intro¬ 
duction Lawson Valentine had finished 
the sermon. He caught a thought on the 
wing, instantly received it, and therefore 
grew almost impatient while others were 
developing what he had already created 
for himself. But those of you who know 
what an interest he took in securing 
“ Meditations on Life, Death and Eter¬ 
nity,” and those of you who know the 
interest he took in that and other kindred 
books for the spiritual strength which 
they furnished him, and which he hoped 
they would furnish for others, would need 
no other testimony that his was not only 
a great, humane and benevolent soul, but 
a devout and consecrated one. He is dead ! 
No, I think not. Perhaps it will seem 
strange to us sometimes that the manifes¬ 
tation of God should have been a human 
life, and the culmination of that mani¬ 
festation an ignominious and shameful 
death; that when God would make c'.ear 
to us the divine life that nothing can 
destroy He came into a human life and 
exemplified the divinity by what we call 
dying. Perhaps it will seem strange to 
you that the centurion, when he saw the 
hour the Son of God gave up his breath, 
said: “Truly, this was none other than 
the Son of God.” And yet I think, if we 
look more deeply at it, death is itself the 
witness of immortality, and certainly such 
a death of such a man as Lawson Valen¬ 
tine, for it was because his soul was too 
great for his body. With all the conscien¬ 
tious care of that body so that he could do 
his work it was inadequate—it was too 
weak for the great soul and the great 
mind that filled it. 
And so death is itself the witness to a life 
that was more than the life of the body and 
far transcended the instrument which it 
used. I do believe in my heart < f hearts 
what Christ said to Martha, “He that 
liveth and bslieveth in me shall never die; ” 
in my heart of hearts what Paul said to the 
Corinthians, “Faith, hope and love abide.” 
And surely, surely, we that knew him 
know that in Lawson Valentine faith, hope 
and love were life. If we were to define 
him in three words no other three could 
serve our purpose so well as those; a great 
faith that always looked through material 
things to the immaterial, and counted sub¬ 
stances as shadows, and sav the realities 
that cast them on the canvas; a great hope 
which was the inspiration of a great cour¬ 
age, and welled out from his own heart and 
filled our hearts with a like great hope and 
courage, but a courage not because he did 
not see difficulties and dangers, but be¬ 
cause he had a hope and courage whic i no 
difficulties, no dangers, no obstacles could 
daunt; and a great love, the mainspring, 
the inspiration, the power of his life in the 
home circle, in the sacred friendships, in 
the personal relationships and in all the 
business conduct, the guiding principle 
and the power—faith, hope and love— 
these three abide forever. In what other 
sphere an i by what methods he shall 
carry on the activities and interests which 
he carried on here below I know not, but 
I like to think, and I believe my Bible 
gives me warrant in thinking, that he is 
one of the great crowd of witnesses who 
look down upon us in our life ; that the in¬ 
spirations he put into us, into our hearts 
while he lived on earth he will still con¬ 
tinue to put into our hearts while he lives 
in the heavenly kingdom ; that he has not 
gone to a country far, far away, nor ab¬ 
sented himself from earthly companion¬ 
ships, and that the man who was a minis¬ 
ter of love on earth has only dropped the 
impediment and hindrance to his work 
and become a minister in spirit, of God, in 
the great unseen breadth into which we 
shall all, one by one, before long enter. 
The Convenience of Solid Trains. 
The Erie is the only railway running 
solid trains over its own tracks between 
New York and Chicago. No change of cars 
for any class of passengers. Rates lower 
than via any other first-class line.— Adv. 
Poultry Yard. 
What big-combed breed lays a small 
egg? 
What is handsomer than a flock of well 
bred Light Brahmas ? 
Light Brahmas are tame. One can take 
them off a nest where they are laying and 
they won’t even flutter! That is, if they are 
properly cared for. 
Geesk and goslings eat grass like a flock 
of sheep; they will get most of their living 
off a meadow and probably pay better in¬ 
terest for it than any other farm stock. It 
is astonishing how much water goslings 
will drink and how often they demand it. 
Water brings a good price in the form of 
goose meat. E verybody knows how tender 
and “ juicy ” it is. L-it geese eat some of 
your grass. 
A True Cat and Goose Story. 
When a child, I had a gray and black 
kitten, spotted like a leopard. Her name 
was Pinky. She was very beautiful and a 
great pet. She soon learned to say her 
A B C’8; on holding a book before her, and 
pointing to a letter she would make a noise 
answering to the same. Sometimes she 
was told she drawled her words too much. 
After a while she had a family of kittens. 
She was a very devoted mother; but her 
little ones disappeared, and she was incon¬ 
solable. About that time my father’s old 
goose died on her nest, leaving two 
motherless goslings. One was given to 
my sister to be taken care of. Pinky being 
my best friend, I showed them to her. She 
curled around them and let them put their 
bills in her fur, adopting them immediately 
as her own. When they were out of-doors 
she would sit by them ; when it rained she 
would try to call them in and lick them 
dry. She had a deal of trouble when they 
went into the water; would call and call 
until they came out, and then express all 
the joy a cat could. 
My brother brought her four young 
red squirrels; instead of making a meal 
of them she adopted them, nursing them 
the same as kittens. They were so full of 
mischief that they were carried to the 
woods, but came back and were killed. 
Pinky was very motherly, and would take 
care of young rabbits in the same way. 
Canterbury, Conn. mbs. C. W. G. 
“ Breaking” Sitting Hens. 
In the old days of poultry keeping, before 
the days of incubators, one of the most im¬ 
portant spring jobs for the poultry keeper 
was that of making broody hens think they 
didn’t want to sit, when they did. On the 
average farm in those days, all sorts of 
murderous devices were proposed. One 
would often see a hen standing on one foot 
with the other high in the air tied fast to 
a string. Hens were thrown into water, 
put in coops with sharpened nails driven 
through the bottom and subjected to other 
trials that only seemed to make them 
worse. Since the incubator came into ex¬ 
tensive use, efforts have been made to breed 
the incubating habit ou 1- , of the hens with 
very fair success, and gentler measures are 
resorted to for “ breaking them up.” The 
following note from the Feathered World, 
an English paper, describes a process that 
we have tried with considerable success. 
“A west country correspondent—an old and 
experienced breeder—tells us how he cures 
hensof the desire to sit. His plan is neither 
to coop them up, nor to starve, nor duck 
them in a water butt, nor to place them in 
a coop with a sparred bottom. What he 
does—and he finds it an unfailing remedy— 
is to transfer the broody hen to another 
pen, with a different lord and master. In a 
very short time the desire to sit leaves her, 
and she goes on laying within a week or 
nine days. By adopting this plan he has 
been saved the nuisance of broody hens 
when he did not require them, and it cer¬ 
tainly was not so outre as the systems rec¬ 
ommended by some correspondents.” 
Commenting on the above, the Fanciers’ 
Journal says: “ In our experience we have 
found a simple wire cage placed in the run 
or she I to answer the purpose. As soon as 
a hen becomes broody take her from the 
nest and place her in the cage. Feed her 
sparingly, and in a day or two her anxiety 
to be with the rest of the flock she can see 
through her prison walls will be so great 
that her broodiness is forgotten. It is a very 
simple and humane remedy.” 
Feeding Poultry. 
If variety of food is a requisite in poultry 
feeding, then my plan is excellent, even 
though it is a matter of convenience. We 
have about fifty fowls. I feed them but 
once each day now except when a few bones 
collect and these make an extra lunch. 
Numerous r.immages in out-buildings have 
brought several bags of beans, cow peas, 
etc., to light. They were hung away for 
seed and after the requisite amount was 
planted, the remainder was forgotten. I 
boll from three pints to two quarts of beans 
in the water in which corned pork has been 
boiled (the fat is always removed) if I have 
it. Scraps from the table are added and 
the whole thickened with bran. Thii is 
divided into two rations, fed warm. If the 
beans are boiled in clean water I put some 
milk with them bsfore adding the bran. 
When the oats were cleaned for sowing, 
there was a quantity of wild millet screened 
out. This was boiled and the hens seemed to 
like it. A few beets, every day, cut through 
once or twice complete their food except 
that they use several quarts of milk dally. 
They have the run of the farm and there is 
plenty of plowed land near the barn I 
think these hens would thank The Rural, 
if they knew I was writing, for what it said 
about pounding bones, but their care-taker 
feels as though the hens had the best of 
the bargain. A blacksmith’s hammer and 
a big solid stone on this farm could unfold 
many a pitiful story in regard to a tired 
right arm which had pelted away at a big 
ham bone till it was small enough to be¬ 
come hen food [A bone mill is cheaper than 
an arm.—E ds.] One must pound one or 
two bones in pieces before he knows ho y 
much oil they contain. Hens eat them 
greedily, as they do clam shells when they, 
too, are broken up with the hammer. 
Results, did you say ? These hens were 
on a strike when I began with them the 
middle of April. They refused to furnish 
more than 10 eggs any day, no matter how 
fine. Now 12 of them are engaged In mater¬ 
nal duties and the remainder give me from 
25 to 34 eggs daily. They are nearly all 
large fowls, a few Wyandottes and the re¬ 
mainder Light Brahmas or a cross between 
the two breeds. I have several nests of 
Brown Leghorn eggs in different stages of 
Incubation. Only one of them has reached 
the downy chicken stage, and the birdies 
are so bright and cunning and uniform in 
color. I suppose that when they reach 
maturity I shall be overwhelmed with eggs. 
They seemed “nervous” enough when I 
tried to count them to night to belong to 
an “egg type.” 8. A. little. 
By the way, it was that article of C. E. 
Chapman’s last winter that made me all 
this trouble, and if I grow enormously rich 
at the business, it will be largely his fault. 
PteaUttUfflu.si 
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