1162 
Tht RURAL NEW-YORKER 
livered. A good-natured salesman can 
usually make suck a business “go,” but 
we do not think the general opportunity 
as good as some years ago. 
bees and butterflies are busy with the 
late buckwheat, and two runaway swarms 
of bees have made us a visit on the 
strength of it, or perhaps some one 
tapped on a shovel. They were mighty 
interested, we thought, in the cellar dig¬ 
ging. and hovered about as if they meant 
to make a landing on certain human be¬ 
ings. who promptly removed the subject 
of their temptation, when they went on 
across fields, where a low shrub in the 
woodlot served their purpose. 
The muskmelons, cantaloupes and 
watermelons have come into their own at 
last, and the Man from Florida is justly 
proud of his work. ()ne watermelon, 
which lie calls a Georgia Rattlesnake, 
weighs 35 pounds. “It makes me think 
of the South,” says he, and of course this 
is the last word. We find that we have 
never known the real difference between 
a inuskmelon and a cantaloupe. In fact, 
we never saw a specimen of inuskmelon 
before, and have been calling both the 
same indiscriminately, not realizing the 
difference in size and appearance. There 
is no doubt about the difference in length 
of growing period as one gets farther 
Nortli. Here in Central New York it is 
easily double what would be required in 
Florida. The long-staple cotton plant 
appears very healthy and green, but is 
really only half the size it ought to be. 
No one had ever told us how beautiful is 
a cotton flower, white as the cotton itself 
the first day, it reminds one of a single 
rose; then each succeeding day shades the 
petals with pink until they are become a 
deep red. There are perhaps 50 blossoms 
of this sort on this plant. When the 
Pod Augers 
Perhaps there are some readers of The 
R- N.-Y. who are. old enough to remember 
seeing a sample of the old-fashioned 
auger which was used before the twisted 
auger came into use. It was shaped 
something like the half of a peapod, and 
for that reason had the name of pod 
auger 
In the neighborhood where my boyhood 
was spent there lived an old gentleman 
whom we will call Mr. Smith, who be¬ 
came somewhat “riled” at a school meet¬ 
ing because one old neighbor, Mr. Jones, 
objected to a proposed improvement in 
the schoolhouse which had been recom¬ 
mended by the school board. Mr. Smith 
said the trouble with .Tones was that he 
belonged to the pod auger class. 
The above all came to my mind this 
morning as I read on page l0S5 of The 
Ritual a set of resolutions by a Grange 
in Seneca County, N. Y. In these reso¬ 
lutions the members of the Grange 
pledge their heartiest co-operation and 
support in the improvement of the rural 
schools, and at the saige time resolve not 
to favor consolidation! In the text of 
the resolutions it is stated that the im¬ 
proved roads of Seneca County will ac¬ 
commodate in transportation less than 5 
per cent of the school children. I won¬ 
der if that can possibly be true. The 
following is a quotation from the resolu¬ 
tions: “Our dirt roads are rendered 
slow and impassable and obstructed by 
mud and snow for a great 
the school year, making 
impracticable.” 
many days of 
transportation 
A Black Wainui Party 
Hazy September 
Summer is merging into Autumn. Pur¬ 
pling grapes hang hidden under the great 
green leaves on the trellis, and a sweet 
aroma attends their ripening. The old 
blue plum tree is bending under the bur¬ 
den of misty fruit, that, turns clear at a 
• touch ; the quinces are beginning to hang 
heavy, like yellow globes at. a lawn party, 
and the four o’clocks carry out the sug¬ 
gestion of festivity by blooming in a 
grand mass throughout long double rows. 
The cornfield across lots is being turned 
into a village of red men’s wigwams with 
long-stalked goldenrod beaming from the 
border like lamp-posts lightening the drab¬ 
ness of weatherbeaten fences. Step care¬ 
fully here, and you may surprise the 
pheasant brood now almost grown, led 
by that glorious spectacle, the ring- 
necked cock in his flaming crimson and 
gorgeous greens. The tree tops beyond 
are wrapped about with a thin bluish 
haze, the forerunner of Autumn’s dreamy, 
hazy weather that seems to invite us to 
spend idle hours, yet by chilly nights and 
sharp mornings warns us not to dream 
too long. 
We have not dared to dream at all 
while the half-completed house which is to 
be our shelter next Winter is growing up 
into framework and siding. Daddy has 
pronounced the concrete work finished, 
and all participants have drawn a sigh of 
relief, for there is much hard work and 
many days from dawn till dark bound up 
iu those gray walls. All have had a hand 
in (lie building of the concrete founda¬ 
tions, even to little Jane, whose contri¬ 
bution has consisted mostly. I must admit, 
in putting surreptitious finger prints on 
fresh-smoothed casts, or illicit mixing of 
cement and water. Much credit, too. 
must be given to the Man from Florida 
who took the brunt of the heaviest work, 
and yet told the children funny stories 
while mixing the “mud pie,” not to men¬ 
tion keeping an eye on little Jane. “Oh. 
baby! 1 x>ok here! Has yu got as dirty 
yet as yu intended to be? ITow yu make 
yo’ hair curl up like that? Do yu mean 
it’s gwine rain?” Nonsense perhaps, but 
dear to childish hearts. 
Yesterday was Labor Day. and this 
morning Elsie has taken the now white 
dinner pail with which mother has hoped 
to smooth over this last tearful moment 
of starting for school. Somehow it is 
hard to go back to lessons just, now, and 
she starts off reluctantly, with many back¬ 
ward glances and good-bys. Little Jane, 
left without a playmate, declares, “I 
want to go to school with Elsie, mamma, 
please!” in her most dignified, compell¬ 
ing manner, and even her departing sis¬ 
ter smiles. The old brick schoolhouse is 
not far away, but before the little girl 
reaches the turn at the State road she 
turns for the last time, and we catch the 
flutter of her white handkerchief. For 
the first time we realize that our little 
pigeon has flown, and find ourselves won¬ 
dering if she will fly back again as she 
left us. Not quite, perhaps. The school 
is large in this district, numbering about 
JO students, and it would be a pity in¬ 
deed if our child were to learn nothing 
from her playmates, for this is really as 
essential to education as the three R’s. 
1 do not envy our teacher her task in 
maintaining discipline over some 30 fun- 
loving youngsters bent on discovering her 
weakest points, for children are instinct¬ 
ively character readers, and woe betide 
the adult who does not measure up to 
standard, for his trials will be many! 
The quality of keeping good discipline, 
like stage presence, must be born in the 
teacher, and those who have it not would 
do better in some other line of work 
requiring less nerve force. The finest 
teacher I ever knew confessed that she 
was a poor speller and kept the diction¬ 
ary always at hand to correct her errors, 
yet she taught us more of the formation 
of words than we had learned in all the 
other years of our schooling. 
It is high time that the concrete work, 
with its endless call for more water, is 
finished, for the canning is crowding along 
behind. The peaches are especially fine 
this year; in fact. I think they are the 
largest. Crawfords I ever peeled. In 1019 
these two trees were cut back by the zero 
weather, but now have recovered com¬ 
pletely, perhaps are even healthier than 
ever. It seems a pity to separate these 
big satin Crawfords from their places 
among the crisp, dark green leaves. What 
would an artist feel to see me peeling 
away this golden and rosy-cheeked splen¬ 
dor! But here comes little Jane tugging 
away at a light bushel basket as big as 
herself, and it is evident that I am 
elected to do just that, no matter how 
regretful I am over the prospect. The 
ladder is short, but. the trees low, and the 
basket is soon full. There are a few' of 
the beautiful ones still left in the top, 
and T can get them, too—if I don’t slip. 
But Daddy and the Man, who were work¬ 
ing at the studding, saw' the old peach 
tree move her branch and let the ladder 
drop forward, an ancient weapon of 
peach trees, I believe; and I note that a 
lame wrist and ankle is the punishment 
designed. Go carefully, oh. housewives, 
among peach branches! 
It is really too fine a day to spend in¬ 
doors. The sun is shining down with an 
intensity that begets thunder showers, 
but which has brought on nothing but 
low wells and parched fields. Bumble¬ 
petals fall one can see the tiny green 
boll, which grows and grows till it cracks 
open and we have cotton. This variety, 
we understand, is not a heavy producer. 
The peanuts have done well and promise 
to be on hand for many long Winter 
evenings. 
Little Jane and I have taken our chairs 
out iu the shade of the twin cedars, 
where we can talk to Daddy and enjoy 
the fine weather. It is very hot just now. 
but soon the frost will come to cut the 
hiekorynuts’ tethers and open the chest¬ 
nut burs. That is what it means when 
the haze creeps in from the horizon line 
like smoke from burning forests. Dreamy, 
hazy weather, only we dare not dream 
too long. MT!S. F. II. UNGER. 
Has a Good Peddler Any Chance? 
My wife and I are planning a tour of 
the country in an automobile, and we 
want to make our living as we go along. 
We have in mind to sell a book called the 
“Circle of Knowledge,” and soiling in four 
qualities of binding from $0.00 to $15.50. 
In your judgment, do you think that this 
sort of business is being overdone, and are 
the people in the various States inclined 
to spend money on books at this time? 
Do you think that the Automobile Blue 
Book would be an effective medium, or 
some popular auto-motive equipment? 
Are those people who have started 
across the continent with their oxen earn¬ 
ing their way, and how? 
We are both young and well educated, 
and I believe we have the personality for 
selling. We are not. looking for a soft 
snap, but are anticipating earnest, hard 
work, and we think that a year or two of 
this work and touring would be a means 
of a broader education and outlook on 
life and its problems. F. L. 
No doubt some of our readers have tried 
such work in recent years and can give 
definite facts about it. Before the days 
of cars, telephones and mail oi’der houses 
the book agent or peddler had a fair op¬ 
portunity. We doubt- if the business is 
as good now. We do not see as many of 
these agents, and people seem less in¬ 
clined to patronize them. Mr. and Mrs. 
Berrang do some little business as they 
go along—selling photographs and small 
articles. We should not confine ourselves 
to one book, but carry an assortment of 
small articles which can he promptly de- 
If this comes to the notice of any of 
the members of that Seneca County 
Grange 1 wish they would take a map 
of Minnesota and find Koochiching 
County, in the middle of the northern 
part of the State. If the map is a large 
one they may be able to find a little spot 
marked Birchdale. If the map is small 
they may imagine a spot three miles 
from the Canadian border and about 15 
miles from the northwest corner of the 
county. At this spot is a consolidated 
school which has been iu successful oper¬ 
ation for a number of years. It would 
take more than tlie above mentioned 
resolutions to make me believe that it is 
any easier to build and maintain good 
roads in Koochiching than in Seneca 
County. The Minnesota Commissioner of 
Rural Schools says: “Nothing stimu¬ 
lates good road building like the necessity 
for road travel. Consolidation has fairly 
intoxicated communities with a zeal for 
road building. Poor roads can be made 
into good roads, and this transformation 
will be made with promptitude where 
transportation of school children is in 
vogue.” 
Minnesota has 254 consolidated schools, 
and the number is growing rapidly. To 
anyone acquainted with the work of these 
schools the idea of any argument for them 
being necessary seems as old-fashioned 
and out-of-date as the title of this story. 
You can make a hole after a fashion 
with a pod auger, but it is much better to 
use something more modern. 
Minnesota. ,T. M. grew. 
Sore-footed Canary 
My canary bird was a wonderful singer 
until a short time ago. He is about seven 
years old. His feet get red and large 
sort of pimples form at the nails. Each 
day fresh sand is put in his cage. He is 
given a bath regularly and every week 
changed to a new clean cage. Every morn¬ 
ing he is given a crumb of bread and dur¬ 
ing the day a small piece of soda cracker 
in addition to his seeds. His feet are so 
sore he often falls to the bottom of the 
cage. c. u. 
Astoria, L. I. 
The loss of voice in canaries may be 
caused by colds, over singing, shedding 
their feathers out of season or wrong 
feeding. Of course at this time any nor¬ 
mal canary is moulting and does not 
sing. Dealers say a bird seven years old 
“has no value” but Sunny Jim (my pet) 
is eight an<l ft wonderful singer except 
September 24, 1021 
during moulting. Jim has two feathers in 
his old tail just now and sings only a 
few squeaky trills. 
Does your bird hang where a draft 
could strike him? A cold is the most 
frequent cause of loss of voice. Some¬ 
times the best singers—if where they can 
hear other males—will try to outsing the 
other bird and strain the vocal chords. 
Of course illness may reduce a bird’s 
strength until he feels no desire to sing 
° m , ueh seed and t0 ° little green 
stuff will sometimes give canaries red 
and swollen legs. Or too small perches 
will cause sore feet sometimes. Are your 
bird’s perches at least seven-sixteenths of 
an inch in diameter? Changing the food 
will cure foot trouble of the first type, 
huger perches will relieve the second 
sort. Then birds have a disease called 
gout that causes red and swollen limbs 
lor sore feet, bathe in a gill of warm 
water in which you have put ten drops 
of arnica. For gout, bathe the feet in 
warm water, dry feet with a soft cloth 
and rub glycerine on before sand touches 
the feet. 
Your bird may have caught a cold 
miring moulting. That means he needs 
care if lie is to sing again. A little 
pure rock candy in his drinking water 
and a double portion of cayenne in the egg 
paste might help in that case. Any dealer 
will sell a tonic called “Song Restorer” 
that will help. 
Do you mean that the sand tray in his 
cage is changed only once a week? How 
deep is the sand layer, then? I note 
that you put fresh sand in every day. 
Mliat green food does he have and how 
much? 
Cage birds lead an unnatural life and 
so many things can ail them! Jimmie 
has fresh seed (mixed seed bought from 
the dealer) one teaspoonful each day. 
Hr gets also a small piece of lettuce or 
other green food in Summer and a bit of 
apple in \\ inter. Every other day he has 
a bath and clean cage, sand tray changed, 
etc. We feed him very tiny bits of all 
sorts of things, and he has never been ill 
in his life; but he is unusually robust, so 
even breeders tell me. During moulting, 
Jim bathes or not as it suits him. We 
are very careful to keep him out of drafts, 
out of very hot sunshine, and never to 
speak harshly or loudly to him. 
What kind of seed do you feed? If 
this does not. give the help needed, write 
again in more detail as to daily care, con¬ 
dition of droppings, whether breast : s 
full or bony, just how long he has been 
sick and if the cage is near a window. 
E. 8. K. 
A Chapter on Cars and Thieves 
The other Friday morning a neighbor 
of mine drove into Buffalo with his new 
car. He parked it and was gone about 
half an hour, and when he came back 
his car was gone. He went to the police 
and offered a reward of $50. The police 
assured him “We will find it.” Saturday 
afternoon he received a ’phone message 
that his car had been found back in a 
woods 12 miles south of the city. My 
neighbor went in. He would not have 
recognized his car. It. cost $15 to bring 
it in. The five new tires were gone, two 
old ones put on rear wheels ; the top re¬ 
placed by an old one, the side curtains 
and every removable thing taken. My 
neighbor could not afford to buy a new 
top. The repairs cost him about $400. 
Another neighbor lost his car in the 
city. Two or three days later the daugh¬ 
ter was on the sidewalk, and watching 
th(- cars pass by, she saw a car which 
she thought belonged to her father. She 
called a policeman who happened to be 
near with a motorcycle. She said to him : 
“I believe that is my father’s stolen car.” 
He gave the man a good chase, and as 
he neared the car the thief jumped and 
made his escape. 
Returning from Buffalo I put my car 
iu the garage. The next morning I’went 
out for my car and found a fine pair of 
auto gloves on the fender up next the 
hood. An egg case which had been put 
between the seats was gone. Some per¬ 
sons during the night came, managed to 
unlock the door, backed the car out of 
the garage, pushed it out of the yard 
along by the side of the house to the road. 
They did this before starting it. After 
a big long joy ride they brought the ear 
back, closed the door of the garage, but 
had thrown out the egg case on the road 
somewhere. They no doubt forgot the 
gloves. 
Another neighbor last Winter, being 
absent from home, came home about mid¬ 
night and saw seven men pushing his car 
out to the street. When discovered they 
ran away. 
A few days ago a neighbor boy, while 
working in the field, found a nest of par¬ 
tridge eggs. Some of the eggs were 
pipped ; they w'ere all cold as they could 
be. The old mother bird had lost her 
life. The eggs were taken to the house 
and properly cared for. The young birds 
are now in fine condition. 
New York. r. a. burriss. 
Bobby was slightly indisposed and was 
spending the day in bed. Ilis mother en¬ 
tered the sick room stirring something in 
a glass with a spoon. “I’ve got some¬ 
thing nice for you, Bobby,” said she. “I 
know you’re fond of orange juice.” “Take 
it away, mother." replied the boy, making 
a wry face. “You can’t fool me on any 
of those fake oil propositions.”—New 
York Sun. 
