278 
The RURAL NEW-YORKER 
February 25, 1022 
"The Most Economical Car 
I Have Ever Driven” 
Thousands of farmers who drive Over- 
lands could say just as much as this 
farmer-owner writing from Oregon. 
Twenty-five miles and upwards to the 
gallon of gas is very common—with 
high mileage for oil and tires. 
Low first cost plus low operation and 
upkeep expense make the New Series 
Overland today’s outstanding automo¬ 
bile value. 
‘TOURING 
complete 
$ 
595 
/. o. b. Toledo 
c Roadster $595 Coupe $850 Sedan f 895 
WILLYS-OVERLAND, INC., Toledo, Ohio 
ess Wood/- 
Buy Less Coal 
Is your wood lot nearly chopped off, 
or is it costing you too much to cut 
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worth more on other work ? 
Why cut more wood or burn more coal than is 
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NEW-IDEA 
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In France the World's ^rentest lub- 
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Get our fire book on rat" and 
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pets. Quickly 
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Free Book 
NEEDHAM CROWN *\8 r ,T' y - 
GRAIN DRILLS 
iced 
prices. Also Morjuice 
Cider Mills and Fruit 
Presses. Write today for catalog and prices. 
CROWN uru. CO., Box lit, PHELPS, N. Y. 
The Practical Two-Horse Spreader 
T HE result of 44 years of spreader huililinu ex¬ 
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When you write advertisers mention The R. N. - Y. and you ’ll get a 
quick reply and a “square deal.” See guarantee editorial page, 
February Sunshine 
February has begun with days of clear 
sunshine. The atmosphere is like crystal, 
but we may not look too long over our 
dazzling frosty fields. By night the north 
wind is still and heavy mist hreathes upon 
twigs ami branches, leaving the world a 
study in gray, faint lavender, and white 
as the suri chooses. The trees are a-glifter 
with snow flowers that will fade before 
10 o'clock in the morning, when the first 
rude breeze sends them drifting down like 
a shower of fairy diamonds. Thus be¬ 
guiles this fickle second child of the year 
—a promise of Spring, with a zero wind 
to offset it. Seasoned residents consider 
the groundhog and keen a watchful eye 
for the beginning of the change. This 
may mean snowdrifts or muddy roads, 
either of them undesirable to the man 
who has ordered his carload of fertilizer 
while Nature's back is turned. Promises 
are made subject to the weather. 
Out in ttie yard, the henhouse door is 
open. A thin little procession of Beds, 
led, by gallant Chief, treading cautiously, 
now unci then pausing with one foot held 
in the air, are adventuring toward the 
barnyard. They are afraid of the white, 
shimmering world outside, hut there must 
he a great many of those stable cleanings 
that really need scratching over, you see. 
lie is flanked by the best layers in the 
little flock, the slim and perfect Jenny 
and the somewhat scraggly Km h. feathers 
thin and lumpy, tail set. a-slant. Hack 
in the henhouse, yawning on the roost, 
are a few able candidates for the next 
o’ mine just likes to fuss with hosscs. It 
was his idea, y’u know, in the first place.” 
The sun is shining in the double south 
window, where our modest little array of 
Spring bulbs are green against the white 
out of doors. The daily unfolding leaves 
are a source of wonder and delight to 
Elsie and little Jane. The hyacinth Yel¬ 
low Hammer takes first place because lie 
is most forward now. hut wait until we 
see those tulips and Narcissus. "Isn’t it 
queer,” says Elsie, "that all these fine 
colorings, the green leaves and the lovely 
flower should lw> all shut up in a homely 
brown bulb until Spring opens them? 
Spring is nature, isn’t, it? Seems as if 
nature must he just God’s hand. For 
they are God's flowers, aren't they?” I 
find us both looking down upon the grow¬ 
ing shoots with a solemn awe like one 
feels out of doors on a starlight night. 
Who shall say that the tending of plants 
is a commonplace life? In truth it seems 
to me as sacred as the keeping of holy 
fire was in ancient temples, 
Those snowy days indoors have given 
us a great deal of time for thought. It i* 
at. such rimes that we pull up and con¬ 
sider what wo arc doing that is unneces¬ 
sary and not worth while. This year we 
have voted to do away with the handling 
of water in connection with spray ma¬ 
terial. There seems to he no actual proof 
that spray is more beneficial to plants 
than dust. In fact I know of some who 
will say that it burns the leaves of the 
potato when applied direct from a cold 
We hear some talk about “race suicide” and diminishing country population. In 
fact, there is so much of if that some people conclude that there are no country chil¬ 
dren left. Don’t von believe it. It is an invention of the enemy. The above picture 
farm family in Pennsylvania. There are many like it. and there will be 
when an hour's work by a farmer will exchange on even terms with an 
hour’s work by other skilled laborers. 
shows a 
many more 
chicken pie, for thus will virtue be re¬ 
warded by setting a penalty on laziness. 
The man from Florida is bringing old 
Grace, the large red cow, to the watering 
tub. Surprise is uppermost in her star¬ 
tled expression as she looks quickly 
around at the transformed trees and 
hushes, and she will scarcely touch her 
water, but gazes wistfully in the direction 
of the buck pasture. "I guess she feels 
like she wants a little exercise.” murmurs 
her jailor, unsuapping the halter from 
the rope. The result is most unexpected. 
For old Grace blows a few breaths from 
quivering nostrils and plunges into a wild 
gallop, tail held high in mischievous 
mood. A few moments and she dis¬ 
appears over the sand knoll next to the 
woods, ns frolicsome a* if aged 10 da vs 
instead of 10 years. We thought it the 
influence of sunshine upon the spirit. A 
half-hour later, on his way to the woods, 
Daddy comes upon G-noe in the hack 
meadow, quiet and despondent, draining 
of the fine juicy grass that springs in 
blossom time. Did old Grace really think 
Spring had come? Jack Frost has played 
a joke. 
These days must not he idle. Daddy 
has gone to cut wood with the man next 
door, after announcing that. “Perkins has 
volunteered to lead Molly and Dan to the 
blacksmith shop.” The shop being sum 1 ' 
four miles away, amidst street cars and 
automobiles, it seems very much of mi 
undertaking for one man, for nothing 
along the roadside is too small and in¬ 
significant for Dan to shy from. “Tliev 
shall not get away from me. ma’am; if 
they go. they’ll have to take nu* with ’em." 
They follow off quietly enough, heads 
hanging in a tired, bored wav. as if he 
had cast a spell over them. ”lt’s just m.v 
way with a boss,” he explained in his 
slow, gentle voice. Hut how can I be 
convinced, with memories of narrow es¬ 
capes haunting the background? It. is 
Daisy looking out over my shoulder who 
voices my unconscious thought. “I 
reckon.” she says, chuckling, “y’u are 
t(linkin’ that the next time we sees Mr. 
Perkin he’ll come hack and say. ‘Oh, 
ma’am, have y’u seen anything o’ them 
bosses? They got away from me a right 
smart ways down the road.’ Hut I don’t 
think y’u need to worry, for that ol* man 
well. The spray should he applied < n a 
fine, clear day after the dew is off; and 
this is also a good definition of weed¬ 
killing weather. By rising at daylight to 
start, the cluster. Daddy thinks to use 
some perfectly good time that has never 
before been available. The horses will be 
thankful, too. for the old sprayer tongue 
hung very heavy on their collars, and it 
was a grilling task in the hot sun. 
A cloud is drawing in a thick, black 
curtain across the sun. It serins to he a 
signal for the crow's to leave the woods 
and go hunting neglected cornfields, and 
they fly past, the window in Happing, caw¬ 
ing hordes. There are so many. many, of 
them, each one with a sharp and hungry 
beak and an appetite alas for tiny chick¬ 
ens and turkeys’ eggs. Often they make 
our hack lots the stopping place, for 
grave] I think, and the ground for acres 
is blackened with their shiny hacks. 
There have been more crows out this 
Winter than I ever saw* before at one 
time. If only they were good for s rne- 
thing I here would very probably be very 
few left. 
Kittle Jane has found her friend Daisy 
in the rocking-chair and as a result is 
being treated to the latest discovery: 
“Old Grumble is dead and laid in 
his grave. 
Hum! Ha! Laid in his grave.” 
No one. I assure you. is anxious to 
assume Old Grumble’s role, now that he 
is gone, for there is a certain relief im¬ 
plied both iu the air and the statement 
that goes with it. 
How fast the morning has sped away! 
With the kettle boiling merrily, we begin 
to look anxiously for the dinner guests. 
Daddy comes hack with his axe, putting 
the crows to rout on the way. And just 
before dinner is served, a moving sneek 
down the road proves to be the Man from 
Florida, with the horses following behind 
like a pair of old mules. “I had a little 
trouble with Dan in front of the eo’t 
house, when n man started up his car, 
and they sure don’t like to meet an auto¬ 
mobile. hut here we are.” 
“Yes. and yo’ nil looks mighty lunchy,” 
observes Daisy from the kitchen door. 
Everybody come on to dinner!” 
MBS. F. II. UNGER. 
