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• i f I RM VOLU]VIE III. WETHERSFIELD CONN., THXJBSDAY, AUGUST 29, 1889. N O . 3 9. W. R. MORGAN, portiishiiigllndeptekep IM KAXH (RBXKT. mtd CapiM BfXldiMg, Cor. CapiM Av., HABTFOBD. CONN. WNlgfat •ttendwit at the store. P . «•> a-. dteren ail M-Claia M s m l Weddi^ and Parties well served at B ^ table races. French and American.Io« WISHDfO AND HAVnfO. Cieams, Frencfa Pastry, ConfeotioiierT, Stc. «W Mate aueet, HaitCBid. .OMn. [TKUTBOKK COKKXCTIOK.] C . D . B U H I S n i A J S I , MnarWB Worts.-^^ Mmmmmf ami MtmMBmn ef Bartle, Kmn MM, laMrieaa aai SeaM OiHlte. •m Maim atrmmt, ATW StrMt, HABTFOBD, CONN. ^ CHAS. Q . WELLS, Hartford ATsnae, Wsthenfield. J S T T S I I C E S S W A . G 0 1 V8 On Hand and Made to Older. HOBSB SHOEING, etc., at saUatietory prioea aad quality of woik gnaraateed. n STATE 8TKKKT, HABXFOBO. VOtmariy loner's Dinins Boom. Come •adaeeas. U. S . & F O R E I G N P A T E J TS • BIMOm>8 a BUnDBTT, jgMrtTord, - Conn. B A X f H FOSTER. IKlilfflMermiilEmDalniBr 558 Kain St., Hartford, Ooim. SaUenee, - - 772 Mai* BtneL —( n u n m n oonncnox. )— n m r I,. rUBBBT, Assistant. Bestdence over store. Connected by Night Bell. FIHESTPiTOGiPHS AT PWUlAB'tBtCBS. 9ALLEBT, • 447 MAIN STREET, Of*. n iM Baptist amreh, HaztCDTd. Uto wUbandtoluiTe were one, my dear, Ton would not be Bitting now With not a care in your tendw heart. Not a wrinkle upon your brow: The dock of time wonld go back with you. An the years you have been my wife, Till its golden hands had pointed out The happiest hour of your life; I would stop them at that immortal hour; The clock ihouid no longer run; Ton would not be sad and sick and old— If to wish and to have were one. Ton arc not here in the winter, my love, The snow is not whirling down; Ton are out in the heart of the summer woods, In your dear old seaside town; A patter of little feet in the leaves, A beautiful boy at your side; He is gathering flowers in the shady nook- It was but a dream that be died! Keep hold of his hands and sing to him; Xo mother under the sun Had such a seraphic child as yours— If to wish and to have were one. Hethinks I am with you there, dear wife, In that old house by the sea; I have flowu to yoa as the bluebird flies To his mate in the poplar tree. A sailor's hammock hangs at the door, J Ton swing in it, book in hand, boat is suuding in for the beach. It's keel grates on the sand: Tour brothers are coming—two happy men. Whose lives have only b^un; Their days may be long on the land, dear] heart— If to wish and to have were one. If to wish and to have were one, ah, me I I would not be old and poor. But a young and prosperous gentleman. With never a dan at the door; There would be no past to bewail, my love. There would be no future to dread; Tour brothers would be live men again. And my boy would not be dead. Periiaps It win an come right at hut; It may be when all is done We Shan be tf^ther in some good world, Where to wish and to have is one. A JEWEL O i ^ WOMAN. "Where are yoa going this evening, "Wlnterlwome?" "Oh I I'm off to the JoUity. Will yoa come with me?^' " I was half engaged—still, FIl come to take care of you. Yoa need looking after badly. Your in&toation aboat Oladj'B Dalton is becoming- the talk o£ the town. A common bnrlesqae ac-tress— phao^I" <«My dear Baring,". answered Vis-' cewt Wlnterboume, warmly, "she ia, most diviqe woman I: bare erer, 40Qm Mid I won^C . l iw a: word addi <<NQ; iier mother was present daring' my whole visit; and besides, she treated me with an easy, gracefal indifference, which qaite checked all possibility of tenderness." A contemptaoas smile curled Bar-ing's lip, as he answered:— " 'Pon my sonl, a very Diana among actresses. I quite believe yoa in that, Winterbonrne. She is as cold as mar^ ble, an4 cares for nothing but money ' its equivalent." "At any rate," said Lord Winter-bourne, rinng from the table and lighting a cigarette—they had just finished dinner—"let's us adjourn to the Jollity, else we shall miss half the piece." "And what is of more importance," added his friend, sarcastically, "miss so much contemplation of this lovely dummy. Miss Gladys Dalton." The other vouchsafed no reply ex-cept to ring the bell of his cab, and in a few minutes Baring found himself seated ^ Lord Winterboume's side in the froiit row of stalls at the Jollity Theatre. The piece was already in progress; indeed the third act had been reached, and Miss Gladys Dalton was now upon the stage in the costume of a Spanish peasant girl. She took little :part in the dialogue, and none whatever in the singing and dancing. Hence there appeared good reason for Baring's stricture npon her, t h ^ "she could not act or sing a bit." But her beanty was undeniable, and her figure was the perfection of natural grace. Lord Winterboume surveyed her with rapt-urous eyes. But she did not vouch-safe a single glance, either to him or to any oAer of her numerous admirers who filled the front TOWS of the stalls. At the end of the act he arose and threw her a bouquet of choice flowers, to the handle of -which he had attached the diamond star. Her eyes at once detected the glittering jewel, and she made him a little courtesy and favored him with one smiling look. "Bah!" muttered Baring. "A cheap return for £500, upon my soid I" " I would not f o r ^ o it for doable the sum," replied his friend. ' "MydearieDowI" Baring answered, "she ^ probably bestowed predsely ibe same look on 20 other men in the cpivse «f t t e OTeniug. ;Hark.! ther« rather too surely, as you will find to your cost. For, when you begin to k&ow her better, you will discover what sort of a woman it is with whom yoa have entangled yourself. Then you'll want to back out of the engage-ment. Of course. Miss Gladys will not hear of such a thing, and yoa will have to either marry her and ruin your life, or else to face a 'breach of prom-ise,' have all your spooney letters read, and all your folly laid bare for the de-lectation of a scoffing public, to say nothing of being mulcted in twenty thousand or so. My dear fellow, is the game worth the candle?" " Tis useless for you to talk, Bar-ing. I mean to put my fate with Gladjrs Dalton to the touch tomorrow." "Wen," replied Baring, as they pulled up at the door of Lord Winter-boume's hoase in Grosvenor square,. "I'll leave you to your own menta-tions, my dear fellow. But, f o r heav-en's sake try to realize what an infator ated idiot you are making yourself I" There is reason to believe that Vis-count Winterbonrne did not profit by his friend's parting advice." For at 3 o'clock on the following afternoon his cab drew np at 1001 Grafton street, the residence of Miss Gladys Dalton. She was at home, and he was ushered into her presence. As he glanced round the drawing room he was relieved to find that his charmer was quite alone, that not even her mother was present; and he felt sdll more relieved when, in answer to his inquiries after the old lady, Gladys told him that/she was suf-fering from neuralgia, and forced to keep her room. But though he had come with tb« 'full intention of doing the desperate deed, and fortune had thus favored him with a tete-a-tete interview, it was m ^ ^ E S T MAN. AB Il^ES MUCH GOOD WITH HIS UOMBY. H« Futi On Ko Style But is Wojth Mmions. '^M^Ail^^luiii SHireety H a r t f o i d) I ^ G W ^ f f l l L O B . AfkmHneof^ta'rnniMdngGoods baa teen aOOed to my atoiA.aad yon are invited to can. : HENRY COWLISHAW. Citler, Brinder and Locksmith. Baaois (ronnd, concaved and boned; Skates. SelMors, Sliears, Cntlery and Lawn Mowers ' (rmmd and repaired. u s n u x x. HAKTFOBD. Envelopes,Paper, Stationery AID n i E p m r n r s, 262. 264 and 266 Pearl Street. S M I T H B R O T H E RS HATS BBKOTED FROM MS STATE ST-toiMiKeonvenientpremlM at 4 8 8 i v rA Tra- mv., Wa lbaemre tabaedl rv aMrieendd sst oacnkd oefu Nsteowm eaiaad v lU find Waal JIMUMHI aad HOOM VN OntoB fo^ra aiiailne ca ta mreda sUopnhaobllEe tperrlincge.s . SEIDLER & MAY, DKAifBS nr FiRNITlE! 806 to 318 Pearl Street, • « OrKFlTl. UMS! UmES! y iM If yoa waat aaytliliic for your G I R L , B O Y or B A B Y, fnjjii TiNehiMreR*sMttefs. P r i o M f h A L o w a r t l . Bpeoial Attention t o F i t! JEiLpr 8TBKBT, .KWM 0, OHEVEY EDILDnra fiCABTTFOKD, CONN. row." « T o n my Kfe is sheer mad-: ness I", hi^ f r i eM remonstrated. "The^ w'oman can neither act nor sing a bit. She depends solely on her beauty; and-even that is notUng phenomenal. There are scores of others equally at-. tractive." "To my mind she's the only woman in the world," Lord "Winterboume replied. "That is unfortunate," was the re-tort. "For she certainly doM not regard you as the only man. Indeed, there are fifty other f-ellows whom she fitvorS with her smile, a^d for the miere p u r ^ s e of. obtaining present from them. You k i r a w ^ e hasa craxe for jewelry." " ^ ^ • ' ' " I k n ow die is v e ^ fondo^f it,.»nd I . gratify her i n t h i s - r e t ^ t. Ste. Wre is it 'diantond' Chouse & GheetaU'8,-whidi I heard of heradmirii^ the other ^ y . I called in at the shop and b o u ^ t it this after-noon.^ "B«aiy, •Wmterbonme," said Bar-ing, as he examined, the magnUIcent jewel, is a worthy «f an empress. May-I ask its figure?" "Rve hnndrsai" was flie i ^ l y . B a i ^ shrugged his siHmlders and elevat^ brows,, not' in'sfitilrise, but in disap^bation. : • • "Clin, you not see," be iqqaired, •'tfaaT the woman is fobliii^ yon in order to sudEe moneirixnit^of you? She is aTways fintij^ lieir''ateiri[^on of some of CheetolFs ,treas-nres to one or otiierof- her 'admirers. Hie jewellers ought to pay her a com-mission; she is a source of unlimited custom to them." "You may sneer at her as yoa please," the other retorted, "but yon will not make me believe that she is the most divine woman under the sun, or dissuade me fipm my purpose of winning her for ray wife!" " U s useless to reason with yon, I see," Baring answered. "Throw away your money, therefore, if yon please. But for ncaven's sake don't throw yourself away on sa<^ a woman I" **Jt you had onlf seen her, and ^ k e n to h e r ^ f f ^ stage." Lord 'Wintcibonme exehdmed—"you would admits-" yon, then, so far improved your ^uaintance with her since we last met?" interposed his friend, quickly. "Yea!" wa? Uie reply; " I oUained her leave to calHipon her, at rOoms in Grafton street, whore she lives with her mother. And I assure yon. Baring, diat' the refinement of her conversation and manner was such as the best bred woman in town could not have surpassed." Batiqg laughed, and i^ain shrugged his shoulders. "Did 3^u press your sidi with her?" beaAed^^and oflfer her your hand and teart?" some time before he could screw up his courage to the necessary point. At length,, however, after some 10 minutes' conmionplace talk, he broke through his reserve, declared his pas-sion in a string of ardent words, and laid his hand and fortune at Gladys Dalton's feet. A little cry escaped her lips; and drawing away the hand which he had tried to take, she rose and stood con^ fronting him. "Do I. understand, ^my Lwd," ^ n i d , .(^tlMfr.yvv me m i K ^ i ^ ^ l u j L i i ^ j W l i M f i i had teiehed ^ lobby, on their w i^ out.) say," one of the men was saying (he was just in front of our. two aor quaintances, and they could distinctiy hear every word), "did you see the diamond sparkling on that bouquet which Winterboume threw her? It was an uncommonly large one—^mnst have cost no end." "Winterboume knows her weak-ness," replied the other, "and is try-ing to outbid all others by gratif jring it. The woman has an extraordinary craving for jewetot I should fancy that she has had more given her than any actress on the stage. The. wonder to me is what she does with them all." "Sells a good many of them I ex-pect," the fii^ speaker replied. "But,; for my part, Fm hanged if I'd waste money on such a block of mau-ble."- ^. t "And yet," the other said, "these i scorafnl, stand-off women command' more admiration than your yielding, compliant ones. When a woman won't look at you, you feci inclined to make her, don't yon know?" "Do you?" was the answer. "As f a r as I am concerned, when a woman turns her back on me, I always turn mine on her. In any case, I wouldn't make a fool of myself over such a spedmen as Gladys Dalton." Baring nudged his friend. "What do you think of that, Win-terboume?" he asked. "Hear what an amiable character this incompara-ble woman bears." "Do you suppose,"- Lord Winter-boume retorted, irritably, "ihat I care one straw what such cads as: those say about her? Probably they have never seen her off the stage, and never spo-ken to her in their lives. I dare say they would give their ears for an in-troduction." "That is easily obtained," Baring sneered. "Any man who cares to give the price of a fine diamond or mby giuns his introduction at once. What," (as Lord Winterboume order-ed his coachman to drive "home") '^are you, then, not going to have supper •with your charmer in Grafton street?" "She would not see me at this hour if I did, else I would go and make her an offer tonight. I shall do so to-mor-row, whatever happens. "Look here," answered, hisfrimd speaking with more Bcrious wannth than he had yet shown^ .<<for heaven's sake don't be a fool! Recourse, the woman will accept you P*'! Baring re-peated. "Notontof any'r(^rard for yoiuself—be sure of that—i:but out of regard for your position, tiUe and es-tate I Why, man, you, don't suppose that this grasping^r.-hardhcaded Miss Gladys will reject the greatest 'parti' in London, do ynu?" " I dont believe shell have'uifir,'' was the igloomy response, "insiate df what you say. "Ohi she'll have you sure enough-* Passengers on the Maine line steamers freqaentiy notice in the pilot h o ^ , a tan, slender man, with a l o ^ grey beard and the general as-pect of a retired steamboat Captain or ^UMAhing of that sort. He seems to take a casual interest in the navigation of the vessel, and is evidentiy on f am-ilii^ footing with the officers of the i b ^ f } Occasionally he may invite ^ s e n g e r into the wheel-to the compass or to peep through the glasses. With such he n^lchat entertainingly about ships, the ocean, the weather, or any other Qrdinary subject. Incidentiy it will probably come out that he is President of the line, and he may mention that he is also in the oil-cloth business in Kew York, though his home is in Maine .He is full of thoughtful suggest m ThfcovMi^flCWr iand into her ley^ c i ^ ' - aMio^ f h^ s p ( ^ of pain. Then she appeared^ to make a radden resolve. "My Lprd," she s^d, "you are an honorablS man, and I will wrong yoti no further. I am about to confess to you what I would confess to no one else alive. You will respect my secret?" "Before heaven, I will I" he an-swei- eJ. "Listen, then," she began, "you must forget, Lord Winterboume, that you ever cared for me. I am married already!" Married!" he cried despairingly. "To whom? Why did you not tell me this before?" " I have not told you before," she aiuwered, " f o r the same reason which now makes me pledge you to secrecy. And I should not have told now, were it not that the words which you have spoken have touched my heart, and made me resolve that, however I may continue to treat the rest, I will wrong you no more 1" 'Your secret shall be as safe with me as with the dead!" he retumed. " I am confident of it. Lord Winter-boume ! People say of me—do they not?—^that I am a grasping, avaricious woman, whose only object is to extort valuable gifts of jewelry from my ad-mirers!" "Let people tell what. lies they please," he answered, "it makes no difference to me. I know yoa better than they do!" "Pardon me. Lord Winterbourpe, bat I fear you do not know me so well. What they say of^me is quite true." "What do you mean?" he cried. " I mean," she answered, looking straight at him, and never fdnching for an instant, "that my sold object is to extort valuable presents froin my ad-mirers." He gazed at her in astonishment; the calm manner in which she made this confession bereft him of all power of speech. "People also say," she went on, "that I part with my jewels for money. In that they speak less cor-rectty. I cannot sell them; I give them to my husband and he sells tiiem!" "Who, then, is this mean scoundrel who sponges on you in ^ disgraceful a manner?" cried Lord Winterbourne, :in mdigni^tion. " I will tell yon his name," die sidd, "but do not forget your pledge of se-crecy." " I swear I will never i^use your confidence," he replied. "But your husband—^who is he?" "My husband. Lord Winterboume, is—Mr. Chouse, the jeweUer!" ions about the best way to avoid seasick-ness, the best staterooms to try to get for the return trip, and as to other mat-ters relating to the comfort of the trip. The passenger who has been fortunate enough to fall in: with him concludes that the Maine line has a most accom-moadating gentleman f o r its President, and thinks it wonld be a good thing for the line if it would hire its Presi-dent to sail on eveiy trip and make things pleasant for the patrons. "Going to stop over in Portland and come back with ns next trip, are you?" he said to a couple of voyagers recentiy. "Well, now, don't you stay in Portiand; go over to Cushing's Island, to the hotel there, the Ottawa; it's the only one there la, and you can't miss it. It'll only take half an hour or so to go there, and you can spend one night and two days there a good deal more comfortably than yon can in Portland. Just mention at the hotel that I told you to come—Mr. Bailey, president of the steamship line; it won't do any harm." These two passengers were more t ^ ever impressed with the geniality of tii^ Maine line's President, aad they took ^ advira. They ^ beat i ^ ^ i i t ^ ho^l, a^d, ttds Mr. Bailey was. « ^ e y ? Oh, President of the si^tai^ip line? Why, that's Charles S..Bailey. He's the richest n^^t^ in Maine. Worth ten or fifteen millions, andmade it all himself. He was about the first oil-cloth manufacturer in the country, and is the biggest one yet. He most owns the steamship line and a lot of other things. Close as a chests nut burr, too, about business, but does an almighty lot of good with his money on the quiet. He don't go much on churches, but he has a fancy for help-ing young men studying for the minis-try or young preachers. He'D put up all the money they need right along untU they get to mixing in politics or temperance. Then he shuts dc^'TO on 'em right off. Says a minis-ter's business is to do good to humani-ty, not to talk politics or prohibition. He'll do most anything for a man he takes a fancy to. I knew a young man who went to him once and asked him for $6000. He got it, and was going to give a note for it. 'Never mind that,' he said, <if you're honest you'll pay me without it, and if you're dis-honest you won't pay me anyhow; your word is all I want.' That's the kind of a man he is, though you'd never suspect it if you had any business dealings with him. You don't mean to sayyou were talk-ing to him and didn't know who he was? Beckon you don't know much MMne; there ain't many pies down Eastways that he ain't got a finger in.' ^ e two travellers made np their minds that they had reversed the usual form and had been entertained by an angel unawares. Edna Lyall's new novel will have its scenes laid in Norway, where the aathoreag spends her summers. His LltOe Fandly. " Do you get all the work you can do?" asked a gentieman of a negro whom he had hired to do some out-door jobs for him. " Yes, sab, 'bout all; en I needs hit to keep my &mily a-goin', sab." " How much of a family have you?" " Well, lemme see: Dar's me en my ole.woman, dSt's two; en l i z y en M a ^ y , en Berthena en Andy en Sid-meyen Jinny en Billy en Sally en Minty, dat's nine single ones; en den dar's de twins, Ad'narem en Eb'nezer —'leben in all. Yo' see dats quite a ^psiderable few, sah." i l i e gentieman thought it was.— Youths' Companion. Fanalag the Flame of Genlns. Pond Mother—"Well, my pet, did the^rreat dramatic manager say yon would quickly become a star if you should adopt the stage as a profes-sion?" Ambitious daughter—"Well, not exactly, but I think he intends to en-gage me for a new domestic drama of some kind. He told me to go home and l e a n to cook."—New York Tribune. A Delayed Perailasloii. I came upon the sod-house about dusk one evening as I was travelling "cross country" through Westem Kan-sas. It was rough, low, mean and dir-ty, but nevertheless was the abode of a lively family, the Doddsworth's, as I found out later. I could go no farther and so stopped, asked for lodgings, put up my horse and sat down to talk with my host. "You may barter sleep out terthe bam part o'the night," he volunteered. "Why?" I asked. "Wa'al, young Bemis is comin' over hyar pretty reg'lar to spark Mary, an' " "Oh, pa! how can you talk so!" chimed in the buxom daughter of the family, immediately flouncing out of the kitchen into the best room. "So he is stuck on Mary?" I sug-gested. "You bet he is. He's over here reg- 'lar. He's a nice fellow, Bemis is." "What does he do?" "Oh, he farms 'Squire Lewis' land on shares. He ain't got much money, that's the only thing; but I don't care. I say they're big enough to marry when they're old enough and old enough when they're big enough, money or no mon-ey." "Does Mary like him?" "Yes, tolerable. She says' he's kind-er bashful—not near so peart as the schoolmaster that's shinin' np to Tilly Marks; but I say she shall have Bemis as sure as my name's Doddsworth." "Well," I put in, "you had better let 'em go and marry." "That's what I say; but, you see, Sally, my wife, is dead agin' it. She's awful opinionated, Sally is, and don't use good sense. Now, fer me, when I see I'm wrong, I always admit it, an' let it go; but she won't. She just sticks and hangs an' won't gin' up. You want to be careful of getting in an' a i l m e n t with her." I said I would and remembered the caution when, after Doddsworth had gone out to milk the cows, she ap-proached me and began to talk about Mary and Bemis. I remembered what he had said. " I ain't nothin'against Bemis," she admitted. "He's good enough boy; ratbcr bariifnl, of oburse, but Mary lOwiiilt, bat h^fr kMer x^Bsh about it. He^fe a w f ^ set, Doddsworth is. Sometimes I think he ^ n ' t use good sense. Now, when I see I'm wrong I'm willin' to admit it and drop the matter, but he von't. He jest sticks an' hangs an' won't give np. He don't exactiy like Bemis an' he won't give up that Mary can marry him." Here', thought I, is a grand chance to bring two clashing natures together and make them work for Mary's hap-piness. Mary was already entertain-ing her lover in the "best room," which was the only other room in the house but the kitchen, in which we sat, and I concluded I'd please the pair as well as surprise them, so when the husband came in, I addressed him: " I was just talking with your wife, Mr. Doddsworth, and she seems per-fectiy willing to have young Bemis for a son-in-law. "Now, you expressed the same opinion to me awhile ago, and and as you are both very liberal in your views, why not nnite on this question?" " I s that so, Sally?" exclaimed the husband. "Be you willin'?" "Well, I—" she began, when she caught my eye and frankly admitted. "Yes, I aint got nothin' against him, but you was always so obstinate that—" "No, Sally, it was you that was set in your—" "See here," I pat in, " no quarreling now. You are agreed in this matter. Lets break the news to the young folks." They had no opportunity of demur-ring before I opened the door leading to the "best room." There was a sud-den shufiing of chairs and feet as we entered, as though the lass and lover had moved rapidly apart. "Mary," said I,, f o r I rather enjoyed the theatrical aspect of the case, "your folks ^ willing that you should marry this young man if you want to. I hope you will be happy and prosper-ous." "Say, you city dude," drawled the youngman in question, "whose...uneral is this, anyhow? Do you run this household now? Mary and I don't care for your blessin'. We wa* mar-ried by Squire Quinn last night when th^ folks thought we was at the dance." "The folks," who had been standing in the background, somewhat awed by my offtciousness, and myself, beat a precipitate retreat. Our kindness had come too late. I rode on the next morning and have not seen Bemis or the Dods-worths since.—C. M. Harger. A DUCK FACTORY. UANUFACrUBING QUACK WHOIiESAIiE. AT LITEKAST H0VB8. George John Bomanes, the dis-tinguished author of Mental Evolution in Man: Origin of Human Faculty, wrote an article on The Psychic Lift of Micro-Organisms, for a recent num-ber of the Open Court Ten Thousand Sucks per Tear. A factory, according to Webster, is " a place where workmen are empl(»y-ed in fabricating goods, wares or uten-sils," and as Mr. Bankin's farm is a place where ducks are manufactured, ». e., hatched, reared, dressed and ship-ped to market, it is no misuse of the term to call it a "factory." Such it certainly is, and a visit to a factory where some 10,000 ducks are manu-factured annually is of great interest to a poultry-man. Not much of his large farm (of some 100 acres) is de-voted to ducks, perhaps half a dozen acres in all, and these, of course, are grouped close about the buildings, the farm barn being the geographical cen-tre. First in interest is the incubator house, a low stmcture, bank-walled to the eaves, in which are the 600 egg machines, and at the further end a smaller one wliich is used as a fender to supply eggs to fill the gaps made by removing the infertile eggs from the large machines. Mr. Bankin says tiiis small machine is the most valuable one in the house, as by using it thus he keeps all six of the large ones mnning full. A large sized Monarch incubator is caUed a 600 egg machine and will hold on an average about 560 hens' eggs. As duck's eggs are considerably larger than hen's eggs a l a i ^ machine will only hold about 425 of them, so that when Mr. Bankin has his ma. chines all full he has abont 2500 eggs in process of incubation and they are timed so as to come off at regular in-tervals of say five days. One machine Was hatching on the day we were there and we saw the operation of sort-ing out the half dried ducklings and putting them in the bottom of the in-cubator where a layer of clean sawdust was their temporary home. The next step is to the brooder house, 135 feet long, divided Into 20 pens of 6x8 and 7x10 feet each. At the east end of this boaae i* • small boiler for heating with hoi water and an ingenious attachment f p n w ffca^aled water dowa hOl and next _ _ s t ^ t h ^ In^ when tbey are Attvn down into the nextteirof peaa^IoCNb. 2 taking their former quartan. When a third lot comes the proceaa is repeated and by the time the firat lot is down at the further and cooler end of the brooder-house they are four or .five weeks old and can be kept in a house without heat. They are then driven off a pen-full at a time, to pens in one of the three houses, each 75 feet long and 10 feet wide divided into pens about 7x10 feet in size and having yards abont 100 feet deep on the side. The brooder-house pens have yards corres-ponding also. It takes abont ten weeks to grow and fat Pekin ducks, and before the houses are full to overfiowing the first bateh is ready for market. An experienced picker then puts in an appearance, locating himself in the basement of the bam where he has all the conven-iences for his work, and he kills and dresses about 300 per week. Duck's eggs are sufficientiy fertile to b ^ ^ setting about Febmary Ist, so that early in May the product be-gins to go to market, and from that time to July the process of mannfac-tareisinfull blast. The incubators just across the way from the bam are hatching the ducklings, which go through the round described above till they reach the dresser in the bam base-ment, from which they are shipped to the Boston and New York markets. Mr. Bankin winters about four hun-dred breeding ducks and raises about ten thousand ducklings each season, but has not more than six thousand (probably), in the buildings at one time, as the first four thousand have gone to market by the time the tenth comes from the inncbators. Not all of the ten thousand are killed, though, because some must be saved to satisfy the calls of patrons for breeding. Mr. Bankin says it cost him five cents a pound to grow, fatten, dress and ship his ducks, and he gets from 35 cents a pound for the first qhipments down through S2> •J8, 25, etc., till the latter shipments bring about 15 cents. Even at the latter figure he makes two hundred per cent profit, and as the average is (probably) above 50 cents a pound, and as the ducks average nine pounds to the pair, five thousand pairs, weighing about forty-five thousand pounds, would yield a profit which would keep the "wolf" pretty well away from the door. Of course this pinnacle of success has not been reached without hard work; but then, look at the reward!— New England Farmer. The centenary of the birth of the Danish poet, Ingemann was celebrated recentiy by a public/ete in the village of Torkildstrap, in Zealand, where he was bom. Andrew Lang and Bider Haggard are collaborating on a novel. The second volume of the Fingtish translation of Prof. Delitzch's Com-mentary on Grenesis has appeared. Joseph Skipsey, the Tyneside poet, has been appoiiited custodian of the Shakspere house at Stratford-on-Avon. N. P. Willis's widow is living in Washington, and his son, Bailey Wil-lis, is employed on the Geological Survey. The first woman's paper ever writ-ten in the Finnish language, is pub-lished by Baroness Geipenberg under the tiUe "Home and Society." The whole of Kinglake'e laraaioii of the Crimea is now in the Tancflnitz Series, the fourteenth and conchtding volnme having just been added. Charles Morris, who published Half- Hours with the Best American Au-thors, has now ready a series of Half- Hours with Humorous Authors. Speaking of erotic literature The Atlanta Constitution says,. "Onr liters ature is subject to these periodical sprees, but they are of short dura-tion." The New York Times says of John Morley: "The Professor is a jnicelcss person, whose notes and particularly whose omissions will cause a scholar to grind his teeth." Captain B. B. Forbes, of Boston, now in his eighty-fifth year, is com-piling a record of memorable ship-wrecks of the last half century, wUch he proposes to publish. Prof. Bichard A. Procter left an es-tate insufficient to support his family, and his widow has determined to sell his Florida home, together with hla library and scientific apparatus. The Latest Slot Devlee. "Drop » quarter in the slot and have your phot(^^ph taken." A South Side jdiotogra^ier was standing by a handsome cabinet simil-ai in appearance to the .aatometk weighing machines which o o i i f r e a ^ ^ ; everywhere. "A latoatl The repwter a q n u ^ ] a snnU dosed dpening itt the opposite his face. Ete dropped a qoat^ ter in a slot lower down. Instantiya little metal door unclosed the opening, exposing the eye of a camera. There was a fiash of light. The opening closed. And in a couple of minutes a finished photograph of himself fbll on a salver before the reporter. "How did you strike the idea of of such an invention?" "A Board of Trade man suggested it," said he. "He said there was big money in it. Eleven weeks ago I started at it, and here it is, patented with a corporation behind it—all ready to take in the quarters. And it will take them in, for it is the only invention of the sort that appeals directiy to the universal vanity of the pnplic." While apparenUy complicated, the mechanism of the mftehine turned out to be simple. It is run by an ordinary ceil battery, the quarter completing the current. An Instantaneous camera is supplied with the necessary light by a flash of magneaiam and dbloride of potash, dropped for each photograph on a pan above the opening and ignited by the heat of a platinum wire. The photograph is taken on a celluloid sheet about the size of a tintype. A set of rollers and a prepar^on of collodion in emulsion develop and dry the impression. The likeness issues much better finished than the ordinary tintyx>e. "The machine cost about sud the photographer. "The expenae of operating them is next to noth&ig. We will soon have them in every hotel drag store and saloon in the country. "Are yon going to utilize the inven-tion for any other purpose than amuse-ment?* "Yes, for two serious purposes. I have a machine under construction which is to have the appearance of a clock and be placed at the r a i l i i ^ at cashiers and tellers in banks.'' "What for?" "To enable them to take »photo-graph of any one who rashes a check in case they should want to Mentify him afterwards. While the man is betore the railing the cashier or teller will press an electric button and the man's photograph will be taken in a teenth of a second. He will see noth-ing but a slight flash in the clocks and couldn't get away if he tried before the instrument has indelibly xaoardoi his features." "A similar machine will be made for use in police stations. The photic* graphs of suspects and criminala mkj be obtained without their knowlb^^ and the consequent distorfioa pf^fiiit. urea which characterises so jttMijjn^. the forced photographa in tb* BVM^ gallery."—Chicago Tribune. _ 4
|Title||Wethersfield farmer, 1889-08-29|
|Uniform Title||Wethersfield farmer (Wethersfield, Conn. : 1889)|
|Subject||Wethersfield (Conn.) -- Newspapers|
|Description||Frequency: Weekly; Publication dates: Vol. 3, no. 35 (Aug. 1, 1889) - ; Notes: issues for Aug. 28, 1890-189 published by: J.C. Late & Co|
|Collection||Newspapers of Connecticut|
|Source - Location||Connecticut State Library microfilm, AN104.W4 F37|
|Relation||Preceding title: Wethersfield weekly farmer ; Succeeding title: Farmington Valley herald & journal|
|Publisher||Wethersfield Printing Co.|
|Rights||Digital Image © Connecticut State Library. All rights reserved. Images may be used for personal research or non-profit educational uses without prior permission. For permission to publish or exhibit, see Reproduction and Publication of State Library Collections, http://ctstatelibrary.org/reproduction-publication/|
|Title-Alternative||The Wethersfield farmer|
|CONTENTdm file name||13488.cpd|
• i f I RM
VOLU]VIE III. WETHERSFIELD CONN., THXJBSDAY, AUGUST 29, 1889. N O . 3 9.
W. R. MORGAN,
IM KAXH (RBXKT.
mtd CapiM BfXldiMg, Cor. CapiM Av.,
WNlgfat •ttendwit at the store.
P . «•> a-.
dteren ail M-Claia M s m l
Weddi^ and Parties well served at B ^
table races. French and American.Io«
WISHDfO AND HAVnfO.
Cieams, Frencfa Pastry, ConfeotioiierT, Stc.
«W Mate aueet, HaitCBid. .OMn.
C . D . B U H I S n i A J S I ,
Mmmmmf ami MtmMBmn ef Bartle, Kmn
MM, laMrieaa aai SeaM OiHlte.
•m Maim atrmmt, ATW StrMt,
HABTFOBD, CONN. ^
CHAS. Q . WELLS,
Hartford ATsnae, Wsthenfield.
J S T T S I I C E S S W A . G 0 1 V8
On Hand and Made to Older.
HOBSB SHOEING, etc., at saUatietory
prioea aad quality of woik gnaraateed.
n STATE 8TKKKT, HABXFOBO.
VOtmariy loner's Dinins Boom. Come
U. S . & F O R E I G N P A T E J TS
• BIMOm>8 a BUnDBTT,
jgMrtTord, - Conn.
B A X f H FOSTER.
558 Kain St., Hartford, Ooim.
SaUenee, - - 772 Mai* BtneL
—( n u n m n oonncnox. )—
n m r I,. rUBBBT, Assistant. Bestdence
over store. Connected by Night Bell.
FIHESTPiTOGiPHS AT PWUlAB'tBtCBS.
9ALLEBT, • 447 MAIN STREET,
Of*. n iM Baptist amreh, HaztCDTd.
Uto wUbandtoluiTe were one, my dear,
Ton would not be Bitting now
With not a care in your tendw heart.
Not a wrinkle upon your brow:
The dock of time wonld go back with you.
An the years you have been my wife,
Till its golden hands had pointed out
The happiest hour of your life;
I would stop them at that immortal hour;
The clock ihouid no longer run;
Ton would not be sad and sick and old—
If to wish and to have were one.
Ton arc not here in the winter, my love,
The snow is not whirling down;
Ton are out in the heart of the summer
In your dear old seaside town;
A patter of little feet in the leaves,
A beautiful boy at your side;
He is gathering flowers in the shady nook-
It was but a dream that be died!
Keep hold of his hands and sing to him;
Xo mother under the sun
Had such a seraphic child as yours—
If to wish and to have were one.
Hethinks I am with you there, dear wife,
In that old house by the sea;
I have flowu to yoa as the bluebird flies
To his mate in the poplar tree.
A sailor's hammock hangs at the door, J
Ton swing in it, book in hand,
boat is suuding in for the beach.
It's keel grates on the sand:
Tour brothers are coming—two happy men.
Whose lives have only b^un;
Their days may be long on the land, dear]
If to wish and to have were one.
If to wish and to have were one, ah, me I
I would not be old and poor.
But a young and prosperous gentleman.
With never a dan at the door;
There would be no past to bewail, my love.
There would be no future to dread;
Tour brothers would be live men again.
And my boy would not be dead.
Periiaps It win an come right at hut;
It may be when all is done
We Shan be tf^ther in some good world,
Where to wish and to have is one.
A JEWEL O i ^ WOMAN.
"Where are yoa going this evening,
"Oh I I'm off to the JoUity. Will
yoa come with me?^'
" I was half engaged—still, FIl come
to take care of you. Yoa need looking
after badly. Your in&toation aboat
Oladj'B Dalton is becoming- the talk o£
the town. A common bnrlesqae ac-tress—
<«My dear Baring,". answered Vis-'
cewt Wlnterboume, warmly, "she ia,
most diviqe woman I: bare erer,
40Qm Mid I won^C . l iw a: word addi
|CONTENTdm file name||13484.pdfpage|