i56 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
March 4 
JANET THORN'S TEMPER. 
MRS. F. M. HOWARD. 
Chap. V. 
Mr. Graves had spent several years of 
his life upon a farm ; he had also given 
the subject of scientific farming some 
attention, and had learned much, too, by 
observation of the methods of successful 
agricultural men with whom he had a 
wide acquaintance. 
He was therefore well qualified to give 
practical advice, and feeling greatly in¬ 
terested in Janet and her experiment, he 
came out to the farm the week following 
the purchase and went with the brother 
and sister over the ground. 
“ Just here will be the place for your 
silo,” he said, pointing out a convenient 
location from which to feed the cattle. 
“ Those fine, juicy corn stalks will be 
just in the right condition for the best 
ensilage by the time you are ready to 
store them. 1 have a work on modern 
methods of farming which will give you 
just the information you need in regard 
to it—come into my office to-morrow and 
get it, Mr. Thorn.” Mr. Graves hoped 
to rouse Jimmy’s ambition and self- 
respect by assuming him to be the head 
of the concern rather than Janet. 
“ That would better be the first thing 
to go at, don’t you think Mr. Graves ?” 
“ Yes, the sooner it is done now the 
better. This long shed can be repaired 
and made up into a suitable shelter for 
your young stock—your dairy cows will 
do better in the barn. If you will let 
me advise you, Miss Janet, I should sell 
off those you have and buy Jersey cows 
instead. It doesn’t cost a dollar more to 
raise a Jersey calf or feed a blooded cow 
than it does a scrub, but it does make all 
the difference imaginable in the butter 
you make, and the price it commands.” 
“Janet can make gilt-edged butter, 
sir, and no mistake ; just give her a 
chance.” 
“ And gilt-edged butter is just what 
the market demands and that consumers 
will have at any price. Give your farm 
some pretty name, and then have some 
pound molds made with a stamp on which 
is the name of your dairy, and you will 
soon have a regular demand for all you 
can supply at the highest price going. 
A pound brick of solid Jersey butter will 
go nearly as far as two of salvy stuff 
specked with buttermilk, and house¬ 
keepers soon find it.” 
“How would ‘Thorndale’ look on a 
pat of butter?” asked Janet, entering 
into the idea with spirit. 
“Neat and sensible. Some little addi¬ 
tion to ornament it would be a good 
idea.” 
“ A thorn twig with the name under¬ 
neath—I’ll draw the pattern this very 
day.” 
“ That wheat field over yonder had bet¬ 
ter be plowed up this fall and seeded 
down to grass, I think.” Jimmy had 
grown at least an inch taller within the 
last hour, and his head, which was natur¬ 
ally drooping, was thrown up with anew 
accession of dignity and interest. Clearly 
the young man was beginning to waken 
up and take thought for himself. 
“ I should say so. You want your 
stock pastured convenient to your sheds, 
and especially in winter, to guard against 
exposure to sudden storms.” 
“Janet’s teasing me to put out a lot 
o’ berry bushes for her, but I tell her 
they will be more bother to her than 
they’ll come to.” 
“ Right there I think you are mistaken, 
Mr. Thorn. Half an acre put into small 
fruits will fill in some very inconvenient 
gaps in receipts while you are changing 
your farm policy. Bushes, well set now 
and protected, will bear next summer 
and come into full bearing a year later. 
They should be thoroughly mulched each 
fall with barn compost and your wood 
and coal ashes, and you will be surprised 
at the revenue they will bring in. But 
with fruit, as with dairy cows, it costs 
no more to raise a big berry than it does 
a little one, so do not make the mistake 
of planting small kinds.” 
“ No danger of that, Mr. Graces. 
J’net’s eyes are wide open for big things,” 
Jimmy replied, laughing. 
“ Your sister is a sensible girl, and will 
not be contented with a small and in¬ 
ferior success when a larger and better 
one may be had by industry and perse¬ 
verance.” 
“ Would you advise us to make a sale 
of the cattle and machinery ? ” asked 
Janet, as they came back to the house. 
“Well no, T think not. It’s the fashion 
in this country to furnish a big dinner 
for the crowd who come to buy, and then 
there’s your auctioneer to pay—no, I 
think I’d advertise quietly, and I’ve no 
doubt you’ll sell just as advantageously 
and save your labor.” 
“And garden sauce,” added Jimmy 
economically. 
Subsequent events proved the wisdom 
of Mr. Graves’s advice, as one after an¬ 
other of the articles offered found buyers 
and at fair prices. 
Of the machinery which was to be sold, 
only the reaper remained, and that 
seemed likely to stay by them until an¬ 
other harvest approached. One corner 
of what had been a large corn field was 
cultivated and set out with rows of black¬ 
caps, the luscious purple and red rasp¬ 
berries ripening at different times and 
thus securing a succession of bearing 
It was early in the morniDg and Janet 
came in from the kitchen to the break¬ 
fast table with a pot of hot coffee and a 
plate of cakes. Her hands were full, so 
was her head, of active planning. 
“ Now in the berry and vegetable 
season, mother, I shall have my own 
wagon, and supply my customers at their 
homes. Take orders one day and deliver 
the next.” 
“For the land sake, J’net! You go a- 
peddlin’?” 
“ Just myself, mother, individually 
and alone. Now don’t look so shocked,” 
she added seriously. “I have started to 
make this venture a success, and my pride 
is safely tucked away in ^y pocket until 
I can afford such an expensive luxury. 
If any one thinks the less of me for using 
every honorable meaDs to accomplish my 
purpose, I’m sure their good opinion 
cannot be very valuable to me, that’s 
all.” 
“ I’m sure I don’t know what y’r pa’d 
say, J’net.” 
Mrs. Thorn fired her last shot of re¬ 
monstrance, and meekly went on with 
her breakfast, feeling that she had done 
her duty. 
“ Don’t you think, mother, it would be 
a good thing to fit up that south corner 
of the barn for a winter hennery? I be¬ 
lieve we could keep the hens laying all 
winter, and eggs at winter prices aren’t 
bad property. There’s 30 at least of those 
young Plymouth Rock pullets which 
ought to belaying.” 
“ I don’t see how you’re going to make 
it warm enough, J’net.” 
Mrs. Thorn drew her shoulder shawl 
closer with a shiver. The fall winds 
had been cold and sharp, and the little 
woman was not so strong as usual. 
Her husband’s death had been a ter¬ 
rible shock to her, though borne in her 
meek, uncomplaining fashion, and she 
had withered and wilted under it, losing 
vitality which she could ill spare. 
“ We’ll line it first with building paper 
and then build up an outer siding of 
boards with a space between for filling 
in with sawdust. There’s old lumber 
enough lying around to do it with, and 
you’ll hear the hens crawking and ka- 
dah-cutting their thanks for it all 
winter,” 
“Well, do just as you think best, 
J’net,” Mrs. Thorn helped herself to 
another of the delicately browned cakes, 
and was buttering it when a loud rap 
sounded on the outer door. 
“ Mornin’, good mornin’, Miss, I’m a 
little airly I reckin, but I got an airly 
start fer town, an’ as you was straight in 
my way I stopped.” 
It was a tall, raw-boned man of fifty or 
more who stood there, and Janec invited 
him in, wondering greatly what the 
business worm could be which such an 
early bird was seeking to dispatch. 
He took the chair she offered, opening 
his rough overcoat and throwing it back 
as if in no haste. “ My name is Gunther, 
Jacob Gunther. Mebbe you’ve heard of 
me an’ mebbe you hain’t.” 
Janet was obliged to confess that the 
fame of the Gunther name had not yet 
reached her. 
(To be Continued.) 
SWEET CORN 
melons ano celhry; 
nth Bradley’i 
re grown thin year, 
rosphatc and stable manure, four acres 
, t corn, which netted me from *70 to 
the acre for the corn alone. The 
is worth at least *18 or *20 more ; 
an average of *90 per acre for both 
d fodder. 
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•y's fertilizer, without 
Jericho, L. /. 
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