1432 
Ikt RURAL. NEW-YORKER 
j HOPE FARM NOTES 
We have put in a long, weary day fight¬ 
ing our enemies in the back fields. Years 
ago the first settlers on this farm fought 
off the wild men and savage beasts on our 
hills, and when darkness came they en¬ 
tered the stockade and waited for daylight, 
so as to make another raid on the enemy. 
Now, after six generations, we are doing 
much the same. We know full well that 
unless we fight, great scalping will be 
done before next Spring. Now do not 
get the idea that wolves and Indians still 
lurk in our back orchards. The most 
bloodthirsty enemy we have is the 
mosquito, and we are putting her out of 
business. Our present battle is with mice. 
The orchards are alive with them, and 
unless they are fought off in some way 
many of our young trees will surely be 
scalped before Spring. The mice are to¬ 
day a greater menace on this farm than 
the wolves ever were. We have plowed two 
furrows on each side of the tree rows, and 
now we are hoeing out a clear space 
around the trunks, and making a little 
mound of earth or coal ashes. A little 
later I will experiment with poisons. The 
danger is real. If we cannot fight those 
mice away we must expect frightful loss 
in trees. 
* * * ff * 
It is hard and tedious work in this raw, 
slimy weather to hoe and mound these trees 
properly. It is what you may call menial 
labor, and unless a man has some vision 
and thought for the future he will shirk 
and growl at it. It is a good job for the 
boss. Now that night has come, we are 
safe in the "stockade,” just as the old 
pioneers were. But our “stockade” is 
more comfortable. 1 am sitting in a part 
of the old house which has been tacked on 
to our new one. A big fire is roaring in 
the fireplace. In former years the women 
of the house would have been found cook¬ 
ing over this fire; there would have been 
a big kettle swung over the logs on a long 
crane. The present lady of the household 
is not cooking. She will tell you that she 
doesn't care to think of cooking for a long 
time to come. She is in that big chair 
with her feet out to the fire, and little 
Hose perched on her knee. Crowder, the 
bound dog, sits by the fire. lie has earned 
his place, for he must have killed a dozen 
mice today. The gray cat is asleep in 
the corner ; the children are studying their 
school books. We think we have baffled 
the mice, and we have had a very satisfy¬ 
ing supper; therefore we are prepared 
to hold the fort against any of the evils of 
the night. 
:;< $ :‘fi $ $ 
What do I call a "satisfying supper”? 
Well, when we came down from work 
Jack gave us an invitation to come and 
eat some “old-fashioned soup.” That 
sounded good, for I remembered the mut¬ 
ton broth my mother used to make. 
"There won’t be much of anything 
else.” said Jack ; "so eat enough of it.” 
And we did. It was a mixture of meat 
and potato and onion, carrots, turnips 
and dumplings, boiled and boiled and 
boiled until it was nearly as thick as syrup. 
You ate it with a spoon—and you kept on 
eating until Nature took you by the throat 
and tried to make you stop. It was a 
great feed for the end of such a day. 
Here we are so well rounded out that 
there are no wrinkles on the body to hide 
any germs of discontent. A man from 
Denmark the other day said that the great 
(rouble with people nowadays is that they 
do not- eat enough of what he calls “spoon 
victuals.” That means soup and stew and 
porridge—bulky food eaten with a spoon. 
()n the other hand, some learned experts 
say most people eat too much spoon food. 
It makes them “rotund” (they are too 
polite to say pot-bellied), and the teeth 
suffer unless they are kept in use. Dry, 
hard food is better than “spoon victuals,” 
according to the dentists, because we are 
compelled to chew hard. Very likely soup 
and chewing gum would answer, but the 
food experts do not seem to agree. You 
may take your choice of their advice. 
My choice is a meal of thick soup or broth 
now and then, and we had a good one to¬ 
night. 
:Jc :Jc 
A good meal naturally brings up "mod 
memories, and as I sit here before the fire 
I remember two famous meals—one i read 
about and one I helped eat and prepare. 
There is an old book called "Journeys in 
Divers Places.” by Ambroise Pare, a 
Frenchman who was born in 1510. He 
was what was known as a barber-surgeon. 
In those days the church forbade a physi¬ 
cian to shed blood. I judge that the sur¬ 
geons were regarded much as veterinarians 
were 40 years ago. Pare was called to 
treat a nobleman who suffered from the 
effects of a gunshot wound. It was a bad 
case but Pare modestly writes: "I dressed 
him and God healed him.” The patient 
needed nourishing food more than any¬ 
thing else. While he was wondering 
where he could get such food they called 
Pare to dinner. This is what he says: 
“I came into the kitchen and there I 
saw, taken out of a great pot, half a 
sheep, a quarter of veal, three great pieces 
of beef, two fowls and a big piece of 
bacon, with abundance of good herbs. 
Then I said to myself that the broth of 
this pot would be full of juices and very 
nourishing.” 
I should think so, too, after several 
plates of .Tack’s soup. At any rate, the 
nobleman got well. This thick soup gave 
him the flesh and strength to stand the 
rough medical treatment of that age. The 
nobleman’s wife pulled a diamond off her 
finger and gave it to Pare for his fee. 
“I dressed him and God healed him”—but 
no other mention is made of this great 
“spoon victuals.” 
As 1 sit here well warmed and nour¬ 
ished by that soup I remember a case in 
which I had a hand. 'I was working in a 
lumber camp far in Northern Michigan, 
and Christmas was coming near. In a 
little house not far from camp lived an 
old couple named Standish. They had 
seen better days; I know not how they 
came to end their lives in that wilderness. 
There was something about that which 
they would not reveal. As Christmas 
came near Grandma Standish grieved be¬ 
cause she could not have a tree and make 
the neighborhood happy. 
"Oh. if I could only fill their stockings,” 
she grieved. Grandpa was more prac¬ 
tical. 
“They think a sight more of their stom¬ 
achs than they do of their stockings. Why 
don't ye make pot-luck and call ’em all in? 
Give ’em a fillin’ of burgoo!”. 
“But where can I get the fixin’s?” 
“Call on the neighbors. I’ll bet they’ll 
come in.” 
I did not know what “burgoo” was, but 
Barney Finnegan and I were ready for 
any adventure, and we offered to go out 
canvassing for “fixings.” 
“Don’t forget to tell ’em howdy and 
ask ’em to come and eat burgoo on Christ¬ 
mas Day; everyone bring his dish and 
spoon.” said grandma, as Barney and I 
started down the road. 
“This tollin' a man ‘howdy’ is unbe¬ 
knownst to me,” said Barney, "but I 
guess it means plain God bless ye.” 
Gridley, the first neighbor, would not 
contribute. 
“Ain’t got no time or goods to give 
awav,” said he, for he was the mean man 
of the community. 
His next neighbor, Joyce, contributed a 
chicken, and Gridley’s gray rooster was 
visiting the hens on this place. The man 
prayer. I wish you could have heard it. 
He was a man in patched overalls, a 
mackinaw shirt and wool boots, with a 
great, bushy beard, and hair that stood 
up like a mop. Yet I wish you could have 
heard what he said as he stood there with 
his eyes shut, swaying back and forth on 
his great feet. I think his words might 
prompt you to put. some of your posses¬ 
sions into a moral burgoo this year. 
And the feast? There never was any¬ 
thing like it. Grandma dished it out with 
a tin dipper. There were cups and plates 
and dishes of all sizes and shapes. The 
chickens, the ham, the mutton, the beef 
and the vegetables had all blended to¬ 
gether. By the second plateful you felt 
strong as an ox, as warm as a sheep, as 
comfortable as a pig, while wings from 
the chicken seemed sprouting on your 
shoulders. It was a great day. Since 
then I must have eaten some 45.000 
meals, but the memory of that burgoo 
leads the procession out of the past. 
“Spoon victuals : That’s what I call a 
satisfying supper I” h. W. C. 
How to Make Brooms 
Raising the Brush. —On page 1236 I 
notice inquiry as to how to make brooms. 
The first performance is to raise the 
brush. This can be grown on any rich 
soil, loamy character preferable. Seed 
may be sown in drills about 2 ft. apart, 
plants S to 10 in. in row, for best results. 
I take it the inquirers only desire to put 
up a few for home use. When largely 
grown for commercial purposes machinery 
is needed, requiring an outlay of probably 
.$100, more or less. The writer usually 
raises only a few rows of 200 or so feet 
in length to furnish family supply, and 
incidentally make some neighbor a pres¬ 
ent. Handles from old discarded brooms 
are used, and can be picked up around 
the neighborhood. With a little sand¬ 
papering they answer as well as any. Re¬ 
moving the old brush will give one a good 
Stitching 
Foundation Fig. 1 
' Foundation 
f.iliilllM cozened vyith 
tong hrasA 
Last 
winding 
Form of 
Found a tz on 
iff —/Fan die 
The Whole Process of Making Brooms 
'IFire 
y?>. s 
Slanting 
trim 
—/dandle 
P 
gave his chicken and made a clutch at the 
gray rooster. The bird jumped and ran 
home, leaving his tail feathers behind in 
the neighbor’s hand. 
“If I’d a ketehed him he’d a went; and 
wait till he comes back !” 
Barney and I picked up a chicken, a 
big piece of mutton and six beef bones, 
three slices of ham. potatoes and turnips, 
a few carrots, three parsnips and half a 
dozen onions. 
On our way home Joyce stood at his 
gate with a fine dressed chicken in his 
hand. 
"This here is from an unknown friend” 
■—and Barney and I both understood. 
$ tf. $ # : ■: jj: 
We found a farmer with a big iron 
kettle, used for making maple syrup. The 
boss lent us a team and we hauled this 
kettle to Grandma Standish. and scoured 
it out with wood ashes. You see. it Jakes 
hot lye to tell the truth to a food in¬ 
spector. And night before Christmas 
grandma started her burgoo. We put 
that kettle on the fireplace and built a 
lire around it. Some soot and ashes fell 
in, but that was a small matter. We cut 
the chickens and the meat up with a 
hatchet, filled the kettle about two-thirds 
full with water, threw in the meat, in¬ 
cluding the ham, and made that fire roar. 
As the water evaporated we poured in 
more. We banked that kettle with hot 
ashes and let it simmer overnight. In the 
morning you could not tell the chicken 
from ham. We kept it boiling through 
the forenoon, and about 10 o’clock all the 
vegetables we had were washed clean and 
put into the kettle with more water. And 
about half-past 11 the neighbors began to 
come. There were the lame, the halt and 
the blind. Old Mr. Gleason came on his 
crutches. Dick Johnson led his blind 
daughter through the snow. As for the 
“halt,” four women of not very savory 
reputation stood at the gate hesitating 
until Grandma Standish went to the door 
and called : 
“Come on in, girls. Ain’t it Christ¬ 
mas. the blessed day of all?” 
There were five Indians from the reser¬ 
vation. Even .Tack Knight, the "free¬ 
thinker,” who scoffed at Christmas, was 
there with the rest. And. strangest of all, 
old Gridley and his wife and six children 
came tramping up the road, each with a 
spoon and big tin plate. Some folks 
thought Gridley had a change of heart. 
I think he knew his gray rooster had gone 
into the burgoo and he came to get bis 
share. And before we started Brother 
Anderson, the lay preacher, made a 
idea of the “modus operandi” of their 
make-up. 
Making a Start. —The first step is to 
build the foundation. (See cut above). 
For this purpose the shorted and inferior 
brush may be used. It need not be over 
S or 3 in. in length, using a portion of 
the stem or stalk where the winding be¬ 
gins. Take a length of wire, about 6 ft., 
pass one end through the hole in the han¬ 
dle made for the purpose, and give it a 
loop around the wire to hold in place 
from drawing out. Lay on the stems 
evenly around the handle, winding as you 
go. to the thickness of %-in., then add to 
(wo opposite sides additional stalks to 
form proper shape, 5 or 6 in. in width. 
Set them back from the end of handle 
sufficiently to hold in place, say 3 in., and 
a half dozen turns with the wire will be 
all that is necessary. A strong tack is 
partially driven into the affair on the 
thin side close to the winding, around 
which the wire is given a couple of 
twists, following which drive the tack or 
nail home, and it completes the operation. 
A few bends of the short end which may 
be left will break it off evenly with the 
head of the tack. The projecting ends 
must be trimmed, as outlined in Fig. 2. 
I may here say that in this winding, as 
well as the subsequent one. it is well to 
have an assistant to lay on the material, 
as the operator will need both hands and 
all his strength to make a solid job. The 
extreme end of the wire may be hitched 
to a nail, and the operator, standing as 
far back as the length of wire allows, 
commences to wind, moving forward as 
the work progresses. T.et me add. revolve 
the handle toward one’s face; by this 
method one can see what he is doing and 
will wind more closely and evenly. If a 
wider and thinner foundation is desired 
a little pounding with a mallet on the 
flat side will even it and give it better 
shape. 
Covering Foundation. —Now for the 
covering. For this purpose the longer 
and finer brush is used. If of sufficient 
length the stalk may be cut away and the 
rags only used ; if not. a short portion of 
the stalk may be used. Underneath the 
winding, cut away about half the stem 
on one side with a slant about 3 or 4 in. 
in length, and in laying on put the cut 
side underneath. By overlapping the 
stems about half their width one course 
around the foundation will be sufficient. 
Attach (he wire as close to the base of 
the foundation as possible with nail or 
tack, lay on the stems one after another 
evenly as may be, and with the other end 
December 10, 1921 
of wire, anchored as before stated, wind 
closely for a half dozen winds; then by 
moving the end of handle slightly run the 
wire around diagonally as far as desired, 
then run straight around a few times and 
fasten by hitching around tack as before 
and driving it down closely as may be. 
If any short ends of stalk project trim 
them off even with winding. 
Stitching. —Next the stitching. For 
commercial trade a twine is made for the 
purpose; ordinary carpet warp, if dou¬ 
bled and twisted, answers the purpose 
well. Bring the brush up evenly and 
smoothly around the foundation, and if 
one has a vise handy it is very conven¬ 
ient ; a couple of strips 2 in. wide with 
holes bored about 8 in. apart or even 
closer, through which pegs may be in¬ 
serted, and the broom held between them, 
while tightened up with a vise, gives it 
proper shape and firmness. A long 
needle, say 6 or 8 in., is desirable for 
sewing. The writer uses one from an old 
umbrella cover; having an eye already in 
it, it can be cut to length desired and the 
end filed to a point. After fixing the 
broom in position run a loop around it 
snugly, to one edge, then sew back and 
forth, running the needle diagonally with 
stitches about %-in. apart, over the loop 
on one side and underneath on the other, 
and reverse alternately as the work pro¬ 
gresses. When the opposite side is 
reached take an extra stitch or two near 
the edge, and cut off the twine closely; 
the same, of course, with the subsequent 
stitching, two or three or four seams as 
desired. 
Clipping.— The broom is now complete 
except to clip off the extreme ends of 
brush till fairly even. Here let me add 
that the great fault with the factory 
brooms is they are clipped off to the ex¬ 
tent that they are better calculated for 
scrubbing than taking up dirt. The finer 
the fibers the better satisfaction they give. 
With a little patience and practice one 
can put up quite a satisfactory article, 
and my experience is that my homemade 
product, for efficiency and good service, is 
preferred to the factory output. The only 
drawback is it is impossible to wind the 
shank quite as symmetrically and closely 
as machine work; nevertheless quite a 
satisfactory job can be put up if the por¬ 
tion underneath the winding is slightly 
moistened and made flexible by pounding 
with a mallet or hammer before using. I 
may add a screw-eye inserted in end of 
handle is extremely handy to hang up by 
when not in use. The brush should be 
severed from stalk just as seed begins to 
harden and spread out in dry, dark place, 
to preserve its green color. Leave a little 
of the stalk attached; it may be needed. 
When dry seed may be removed with 
currycomb. 
I wish to ask any reader of The R. 
N.-Y. who raises broom corn if they have 
found it infested with black lice? They 
attack mine every year underneath the 
sheath where the brush starts to shoot 
out, and where no spray can reach them. 
They injure the length of rays very 
materiallv. O. W. 
Oak Hill, N. Y. 
Automobiles and Poison Gas 
The New York Times prints the fol¬ 
lowing : 
“There are a good many automobiles 
in this country, and a good many of them 
—probably a large majority—are kept, or 
perhaps one should say stabled, in small 
garages that have little or no ventilation 
except through the doors. With the com¬ 
ing on of cold weather, much of the tin¬ 
kering which these machines so often re¬ 
quire is done with the garage doors closed, 
and not infrequently the engines are set 
to running to warm them up before start¬ 
ing out on the road. The result is that 
from now on until Spring many accidents 
occur, not a few’ of them fatal, for a 
gasoline engine in motion gives off in con¬ 
siderable quantities that dangerous poi¬ 
son, carbon monoxid. and when this is 
done in a confined space the air in it 
soon becomes deadly to any living being. 
"The effects of this gas were investi¬ 
gated with great care, recently, by Prof. 
Yandell Harrison and several colleagues 
with a view to solving the problem of 
ventilation with respect to the proposed 
vehicular tunnel under the Hudson, and 
their observations are summarized in the 
current issue of The Journal of the Amer¬ 
ican Medical Association with a special 
view to their bearing on automobiles in 
garages. 
“It was found that,, if the amount of 
carbon monoxid in air did not exceed 
three parts in 10.000, no physiological ef¬ 
fects were produced. Between three and 
six parts to the 10.000. the effects were 
barely perceptible. Above that, headache 
and nausea were induced, increasing in 
severity with the rising of the ratio, and 
when it reached 15 to the 10.000 life was 
seriously imperiled. 
“An ordinary motor car, when its en¬ 
gine is in motion, gives off a square foot 
of the deadly gas every minute, and m 
three minutes the air in a closed garage, 
10x10x20 ft., is contaminated to the de¬ 
gree that endangers life. Not long after 
that the victim falls unconscious and 
death follows if he is not promptly res¬ 
cued. The lesson is obvious, and all auto- 
mobilists should heed it.” 
Teacher (to class) : "Who can teh 
me what an icicle is?” Jimmie (after 
profound silence) : “Please, ma’am. it s 
a stiff piece of water.”—New York News. 
