HEART
gftho
SUNSET
REX BEACH.
Author of *4 The Spoilers, ” “ The Iron Trail,"
''The Silver Horde** Etc.
C<«*rV* * Mfptr 9 fr.ifcw
SYNOPSIS.
CHAPTER I—Set afoot and alone bv an
accident in the desert near the Rio Grande
Mrs. Aiaire Austin, mistress of Las Pal
las and I,a Feria ranches, meets Date
Law, Texas Ranker, at a water hole and
Is compelled to spend the night there with
him, as he is in ambush for a murderer
and cannot leave his post.
CHAPTER IX—Next day at evening tiie
murderer appears with a companion.
CHAPTER III—Ij*w captures the mur
derer but is compelled to kill his compan
ion, Panftlo Sanchez, who happens to he
a cousin of Mrs. Austin's horsebreaker
Jose Sanchez.
CHAPTER IV—At Las Palmas Aiaire
tells her husband, Fid, that his carousals
and Inebriety must stop. Her cattle
at 1m Feria, the Mexican ranch, are con
fiscated by Longorlo, Mexican federal
general, and she finds that It Is because
Ed has been helping the rebel junta.
I
CHAPTER V.
A Journey, and a Dark Man.
Alaire’s preparations for the journey
to La Feria were made with little de- !
lay. Owing to the condition of affairs
across the border, Ellsworth had
thought. It well to provide her with let
ters from the most influential Mexi
cans in the neighborhood; what is
more, In order to pave her way toward
a settlement of her claim he succeeded
In getting a telegram through to Meg- ;
lco City—Ellsworth's Influence was not
bounded by the Rio Grande.
Aiaire took Dolores with her, and for
male escort she selected, after some
deliberation, Jose Sanchez, her horse
breaker. Benito could not well he
spared. Sanchez had some force and
Initiative, at least and Aiaire had no
reason to doubt his loyalty. The party
went to Pueblo by motor. On the fol
lowing day, Aiaire secured her pass
ports from the federal headquarters
across the Rio Grande, while Jose at
tended to the railrond tickets. On the
second morning after leaving home the
party was borne southward Into Mex
ico.
The revolution had ravaged most of
northern Mexico; long rows of rusting
trucks and twisted cnr skeletons beside
the track showed how the railway’s
rolling stock had suffered In this par
ticular vicinity; and ns the train pene
truted farther south temporary trestles
and the charred ruins of station houses
spoke even more eloquently of the
struggle. Now nnd then a steel water
tank, pierced with loopholes nnd ripped
by cannon balls, showed where some
detachment had made a stand. Tliefe
was u military guard on the train,
too—a dozen unkempt soldiers louded
down with rifles and bandoliers of car
tridges, nnd several officers, nently
dressed in khaki, who rode in the first
class coach nnd occupied themselves
by making eyes at the women.
At Its frequent stops the train was
besieged by the customary crowd of
curious peons; the same noisy huck
sters denlt out enchiladas, tortillas,
goat cheeses and coffee from the same
dirty baskets and palls; even their out
stretched hands seemed to bear the fa
miliar grime of nnte-bellum days. The
coaches were crowded; women fanned
themselves unceasingly; their men
snored, open-mouthed, over the backs
of the seats, and the* aisles were full
of squalling, squabbling children.
As for the country Itself, It was dy
ing. The ranches were stripped of
stock, no carts creaked along the high
ways, nnd the roads, like the little
farms, were growing up to weeds.
Stores were empty, the people were 1
Idle. Over all was an atmosphere of .>
decay, nnd, what wns far more slgnlfl- :
cant, the people seemed content.
All morning the monotonous Journey
continued—a trial to Alnlre and Dolo
res, hut to Jose Sanchez a red-letter
experience, lie covered the train from
end to end. making himself acquaint
ed with everyone and bringing to
Aluire the gossip that he picked up.
It wns not until midday thut the first
Interruption occurred; then the train
pulled in upon a siding, and after an
Interminable delay it transpired that a
northbound troop-train was expected.
Jose brought this intelligence: “Soon
you will behold the flower of the Mex
ican army," he told Alalre. ‘‘You will
see thousands of Longorto’s veterans,
every man of them a very devil for
blood. They are returning to Nuevo
Pueblo after destroying a hand of I
those rebels. They hud a great vic
tory at San Pedro—thirty kilometers
from La Feria. Not a prisoner was
spared, senora.”
“Is General Longorio with them?”
Aiaire inquired quickly.
“That is what I came to tell you.
It is believed that he Is, for he takes
his army with him wherever he goes.
He is a great fighter; lie has a nose
for it, that man, and lie strikes like the.
lightning — here, there, anywhere.” |
Jose, it seemed, wns a rabid Potosistu.
“When the train arrives.” she told
her horse-breaker. “1 want you to find
General Longorio and ask him to come
here.”
“But, senora I” Jose was dum
founded, shocked. "He is a great gen
eral—”
“Give him this note.” Quickly wril
! ing n few lines on a page frontier
i notebook, she gave him the scrap of
paper, which lie carefully placed in his
hat : then, shaking his head doubtfully,
j he left the car.
Flushed with triumph, Dolores took
the first occasion to enlarge upon her
theme.
“You will see what a monster this
Longorio is,” she declared. “It was
like him to steal your beautiful cattle;
| he would steal a crucifix.”
“I've heard that,' Alaire snldgravely.
In the course of time the military
train came creaking along on the main
track and stopped, to the great interest
of the south-bound travelers. It was
made up of many stock cars crowded
with cavalry horses, and penned in
with them were the women and the
children. The soldiers themselves
were clustered thickly upon the car
roofs. Far down at the rear of the
train was a rickety passenger coach,
and toward this Jose Sanchez made his
way.
There began a noisy Interchange of
greetings between the occupants of the
two trains, and meanwhile the hot sun
glared balefully upon the huddled fig
ures on the car tops, a half-hour
passed, then occurred a commotion at
the forward end of Alaire’s coach.
A group of officers climbed aboard,
and among them was one who could
be none other than Luis Longorio. As
he came down the passageway Alaire
identified him without the aid of his
insignia, for he stood head and shoul
ders above his companions and bore
himself with an air of authority. He
was unusually tall, at least six feet
three, and very slim, very lit lit*; a
young man; his cheeks were girlishly
smooth and of a clear, pale, olive tint;
his eyes were large, bold, brilliant; his
nostrils thin and sensitive, like those
of a blooded horse. Disdain, hauteur,
impatience, were stumped upon the
general’s countenance ns he pushed
briskly through the crowd, turning his
head from side to side In search of
the woman who had summoned him.
Not until she rose did he discover
Alaire; then he halted; his eyes fixed
themselves upon her with a start of
startled amazement.
Alaire ftJ*jherself color faintly, for
the man sTCmed to he scanning iter
from head to foot, taking in every de
tail of her fttce and form, and as he
tild so his expression remained unal
tered. For what seemed n full minute
Longorio stood rooted; then the stiff
vizored cap whs swept from his head ;
he bowed with the grace of a courtier
until Alaire saw the part in his oily
black hair.
“Senora! A thousand apologies for
my delay,” he said. ‘‘Caramba! I did
not dr^am—I did not understand your
message.” He continued to regard hej
with that same queer intensity.
“You are General Longorio?” Alaire
was surprised to note that her voice
quavered uncertainly, and annoyed tc
feel her face still flushing."
“Your obedient servant.”
Longorio, with n brusque command
routed out the occupants of the seat
ahead, and, reversing the back, took a
position facing Alaire. Another order
and the men who had accompanied
him withdrew up the nlsle. There was
no mistaking his admiration. lb
seemed enchanted hy her pale beauty
her rich, red hair held him fascinated,
and with Latin boldness he made his
feelings crassly manifest.
“You probably know why I wished
to see you,” Alaire began.
Longorio shook his head in vague
denial.
“It is regarding my ranch. La Fcrla.'
Seeing that the name*conveyed noth
ing, she explained. “I am told that
your army confiscated my cattle.”
“Ah, yes! Now I understand.” The
Mexican nodded mechanically, hut ;|
was plain that he was not heeding lie?
words in the least. As if to shut out a
vision or to escape some dazzling sight,
he cTosed his eyes. Alnire wondered
if the fellow had been drinking. She
turned to Dolores to find that good
woman wearing an expression of stu
pefaction. It was very queer; it made
Alaire extremely ill ut ease.
Longorio opened his eyes and passed
a brown hand across his brow us if
to brush away perverse fancies that in
terfered with his thoughts. Alaire no
ticed that one of his fingers was deco
rated with a magnificent diamond-and
ruby ring, and this interested her
queerly. No ordinary man could fit
tingly have worn such an ornament,
yet on the hand of this splendid bar
barian it seemed not at all out of
keeping.
“Dios!” Longorio continued. “Your
ranch has been destroyed; your entile
stolen, eh? We will shoot the perpe
trators of this outrage at once.
Bueno!”
“No, no! I don’t want to see anyone
punished. I merely want jour govern
nient to pay me for my cattle.” ~Alaire
laughed nervously.
“Ah! liut a lady of refinement
should never discuss such a miserable
business. It is a matter for men.”
She endeavored to speak in a brisk,
businesslike tone. “La Kerin belongs
to me. I nin a woman of affairs. Gen
eral Longoria, and you must talk to
me as you would talk to a man. When
I heard about this raid I came to look
info it—to see you, or whoever is in
charge of this district, and to make a
claim for damages.”
“Vnlgame Dios! This Is amazing.”
“There is nothing extraordinary
about it, that I can see.”
“You consider such a woman as
yourself ordinary? The men of my
country enshrine beauty and worship
it. They do not discuss such things
with their women. Now this sordid
affair is something for your hus
band—”
“Mr. Austin’s business occupies his
time; fills is my own concern, i am
not the only practical woman in Tex
as. ’
Longorio appeared to be laboriously
digesting this statement. “So!” he
said at last. “When you heard of
this—you came, eh? You came alone
into Mexico, whore we are fighting and
killing each other? Well! That is
spirit. You are wonderful, superb!”
He smiled, showing the whitest u*d
evenest teeth.
Such extravagant homage was em
barrassing, yet no woman could lie
wholly displeased by admiration so
spontaneous and intense as that which
Longorio manifested in every look and
word. Alaire knew the susceptibility
of Mexican men, and was immune to
ordinary flattery; yet there was some
thing exciting about this martial hero's
complete captivation. To have charmed
him to the point of bewilderment was
a unique triumph, and under his hun
gry eyes she felt an adventurous thrill.
While he and Alniro were talking the
passengers had returned to their seats;
they were shouting good-bys to the
soldiers opposite; the conductor ap
proached and informed the general of
his train orders.
Longorio favored him with a slow
stare. “You may go when I leave,”
said he.
si, senor. l>Ut —
The general uttered a shnrp exela
mation of anger, at which the conduc
tor backed away, expressing by voice
and gesture his mflst hearty approval
of the change of plan.
“We mustn’t hold the train,” Alaire
said quickly. 'T will arrange to see
you in Nuevo Pueblo when I return.”
Lohgorio smiled brilliantly and lift
ed a brown hand. “No. no! I am a
selfish man; I refuse to deprive myself
of this pleasure. Now about these
cattle.” He thought for a moment, and
his tone altered as he said: “Sonora,
there seems to be an unhappy compli
cation in our way, and this we must
remove. First, may I ask, are you a
friend to our cause?”
“I am an American, but what has
that to do with my ranch and my
cattle? This is something that con
cerns no one except you and me.”
Longorio was plainly flattered hy her
words, and took no trouble to hide Ills
pleasure. “Ah! If that were only
true! We would arrange everything
to your satisfaction without another
Why Did You Take My Cattle?”
word.” Ills admiring gaze seemed to
envelop her, and its warmth was un
mistakable.
“Why did you take my cattle?” she
demanded, stubbornly.
"I was coming to that. Your hus- 1
hand, senora, Is an active Caudele
rista.” i
For n moment Alaire was at a loss;
then she replied with some spirit: “We
are two people, lie and I. La Feria be
longs to me.”
“Nevertheless his conduct is regret
table,” Longorio went on. “Probably
evil men have lied to him.”
For the first time Dolores stirred.
She had watched her countryman with
a peculiar fascination. Now she said,
as if freed from a spell:
“Pali! Nobody pays heed to Senor
Ed. We do not consider him.”
Alaire turned upon her with a sharp
exclamation, conscious meanwhile that
the woman's tone, even more than her
words, had enlightened Longorio to
some extent. Ills lifted brows were ■
cloaucnt of surprise and curiosity, but
i
hi* held his tongue.
“Ain I to understand, then, that you
rob me .because of my husband’s ac
tion?” Aluire asked.
"No. I shall help.” Longorlo beamed
enthusiastically. “It shall be the ob
ject of my life to serve you, and you
and 1 shall arrange this matter satis
factorily. 1 have influence, believe me.
Duty calls mo to Nuevo Pueblo, and
you shall return with me as the guest
of my government.” lie rose to his
feet, blit his eagerness soon gave place
to disappointment.
“Thank you,” said Alaire, “hut I
must first go to La Feria and get all
the facts.”
“Sonora! It is a wretched journey.
See!” He waved a contemptuous ges
ture at the ear, crowded to congestion.
“There is no food; you have no one to
wait upon yon. In m> company you
will be safe. Upon my honor, you will
enjoy the highest courtesy—”
“Of course. But I must go on. J
have Dolores nnd .fox- to look afier
Pie." Alaire indicated Sanchez, who
had edged tils way very close and now
stood with admiring eyes tixed upon
his hero.
“Yes. ini general,” Jose exclaimed,
eagerly, “1 am here.”
Longorlo scrutinized the horse
breaker critically. “Your name is—?”
“Jose Sanchez.”
“You look like a brave fellow.”
Jose swelled at this praise, and no
doubt would have made suitable an
swer. blit his employer held out her
hand and General Longorio bent over
It. raising it to his lips. He called one
of his subordinates closer and ordered
that a lieutenant and six soldiers la
detached to act as an escort to Mrs.
Austin’s party. “Senorn, the hours
will drag until l may see you
again and lie of further service. \lean
while I shall lie tortured with radiant
dreams. Go with God!” For a second
time he bowed and kissed the nand he
held, then, taking Jose Sanchez Inti
mately by the arm, he turned to the
door.
Dolores collapsed into her sonf with
an exclamation. “Caramba! The man
is a demon! And such eyes. Uf!"
Dolores was interrupted by Longo
rio’s voice beneath the open window.
The general stood, cap in hand, hold
ing up to Alaire a solitary wildflower
which he had plucked beside the track.
“See!” he cried. “It is the color of
your adorable eyes—blue like the
sapphire gem.” He placed the deli
cate bloom !n Alaire’s fingers and was
gone.
“Cuidado!” breathed Dolores. “There j
is blood on it; the blood of innocents,
lie will burn for a million years in hell,
that man.”
Jose Sanchez came plowing into
Alaire’s ear, tremendously excited.
“Look, senora !” he cried. “Look what
the general gave me,” and he proudly
displayed Longorio’s service revolver.
Around Jose’s waist was the cartridge
bel^ and holster that went with the
weapon. “With his own hands he
buckled It about me, and he said
‘Jose, something tells me you tire a
devil for bravery. Guard your mistress
with your life, for if any mishap be
falls her I shall cut out your heart
with my own hands.’ Those were his
very words, senora. Caramba ! There
is a man to die for.”
Nor was this the last of Longorio’s
dramatic surprises. Shortly after the
train had got under way the lieutenant
in command of Alaire’s guard brought
her a small package, saving:
“The general commanded me to hand
you this, with his deepest regard."
Alaire accepted the object curiously.
It was small and heavy and wrapped
in several leaves torn from a notebook,
and it proved to be nothing less than
the splendid diamond-and-ruby ring
she had admired.
“God protect us, now!” murmured
Dolores, crossing herself devoutly.
CHAPTER VI
Blaze Jones and His Neighbors.
Blaze Jones rode up to his front .cate
and dismounted in the shade of the big
ebony tree. He stepped back and ran
an approving eye over another animal
tethered there. Of course the youths
of tlds day were nothing like the
youths of ids own, nnd yet—Blaze let
ids gaze linger fondly on the highbred
mare and her equipment—here at least
was a person who knew a good horse,
a good saddle and a good gun.
As he camp up the walk he heard
Pulotna laugh, and his own face light
ened, for his daughter’s merriment was
contagious. Then as he mounted the
steps and turned the corner of rhe
“gallery" he uttered a hearty greeting.
"Dave Law! Where In the world
did you drop from?”
Law uncoiled himself and took the
ranchman’s hand. "Hello, Blaze! I
been ordered down here to keep you
straight.”
“Pshaw! Now who’s been giving
you orders, Dave?”
“Why, I’m with the Hangers.”
“Never knew a word of it. Last I
heard you was filibustering around
with tlie Maderistas.”
Blaze seated himself with a grateful
sigh where the hret#e played over him.
lie was a big, bearlike, swarthy man
with the Square-hewn, deep-lined face
of a tragedian, and a head of long,
curly hair, which he wore parted in a
line over his left ear. Jones was a
character, a local landmark. This part
of Texas had grown up with Blaze,
and he possessed a splendid indiffer
ence to the artificial fads of dress
and manners. He was plainly an out
door man.
“So you’re a Hunger, and got notches
on your gun.” Blaze rolled and lit a
tiny cigarette, scarcely larger than a
wheat straw. "Well, you’d ought to
make a right able thief-catcher, Dave,
only for your siig—you're too lon£ for
| a mini nrw1 y.»u ain’t long enough for a
snake. Still. I reckon a thief would
liave trouble getting out of your roach,
and once you got close to him— How
mflri.v men have you killed?"
“Cgu.'.ting Mexicans?" Law Inquired
with a smile.
“N< body counts them.”
“Not many.”
“That's good.". Blaze nodded and
relit Ins cigarette, which he had per
mitted promptly to smolder out. “The
force ain’t what it was. Most of the
boys nowadays join so they can ride
a horse cross-lots, pack a pair of
guns, and give rein to the predilections
of a vicious ancestry. They're bud
rams, most of era."
“There aren’t many ” said Paloma.
“Dave tells me the whole force has
been cut down to sixteen.”
“That’s plenty," her father averred.
[ “It’s like when Cap’n Bill McDonald
| was sent to stop a riot in Dallas. He
"ame to town alone, and when the clti
•ens asked him where his men was,
he said ‘Ain’t 1 enough? There’s only
one riot.’ Are you workin’ up a case,
Dave?”
“Um-m—yes ! People are missing a
lot of stock hereabouts.”
“It's these blamed refugees from the
war! A Mexican has to steal some
thing or he gets run down and pore.
If it ain't stock, it’s something else.”
Dave Law’s duties as a Ranger rest
ed lightly upon him: ids instructions
tvt ■ vague, and In* had a leisurely
method of “working up” his evidence.
Since he knew that Blaze possessed a
thorough knowledge of this section and
its people, it was partly business which
had brought him to the Jones home
this afternoon.
Strictly speaking. Blaze was not n
rancher. He had speculated heavily in
raw lands, and for Several years past
he had devoted Ids energies to a gi
gantic colonization scheme. It was by
no means a small operation in which
in* was engaged. The venture had
taken foresight, courage, infinite hard
work; Blaze was burdened with re
sponsibilities that would have broken
down a man of weaker fiber.
15UI ms pet relaxation was rominis
eenee. IIis own experience h:i<l been
wide, he knew everybody In his part
of the state, and although events in ,
his telling were sometimes colored by
his rich imagination, the information
he could give was often of the great- j
esl value—as Dave Law knew.
After n time the lntter said, casually. '
“Tell me something about Tad Lewis.”
Blnze looked up quickly. “What do
you want to know?”
"Anything. Everything.”
“Tad owns a right nice ranch be
tween here and Las Palmas,” Blaze
said cautiously.
Paloma broke out impatiently. “Why
don’t you say what you think?” Then
to Dave: “Tad Lewis is a bad neigh
bor. and always lias "been. There’s a
ford on his place, and we think he
knows more about "wet" cattle than
he cares to tell.”
“It’s a good place to cross stock at
low water,” her father agreed, “and
Lewis’ land runs back from the Bio
Grande in Its old Spanish form. It’s
a natural outlet for those brush-coun
try ranchos. But I haven’t anything i
against Tad except a natural dislike. |
He stands well with some of our best j
people, so J'in probably wrong. I usu
ally am.”
“Von can’t call Ed Austin one of our
best people,” sharply objected Paloma.
“They claim that arms are being
smuggled across to the rebels, Dave,
and. if it’s true, Ed Austin—”
“Now, Paloma,” her father remon
strated mildly. “The regulars and the
JV^iToa/
vacu/ rwt?
“I Believe Austin Is a Strong Rebel
Sympathizer."
river guards watched Lewis’ rimeli till
the embargo was lifted, and they never
saw anything.”
“I believe Austin is a strong rebel
sympathizer,” Law ventured.
"Sure! And ldiu and the Lewis out- 1
tit are amigos. If you go plrootin’ I
around Tad's place you’re more’n apt I
to make yourself unpopular, Dave. I'd ;
grieve some to see you in a wooden ;
kimono. Tad’s too well fixed to steal
cattle, and if he runs arms It's be- 1
cause he's si ‘galvanized Gringo’ him
self—married si Mexican, you know.”
When mealtime drew near, both
•Jones and his daughter urged their
guest to stay and dine with them, and
Dave was glad to accept.
(Continued Next Week.)
Optimistic TSneght.
A promise against luw or duty la
void of its own uulure.
ARKANSAS BEHIND
In Some States Each Cow Produces
$100—In Arkansas It Amounts
To Only $15.
With less than three milk cows to
every farm and the average product
per cow worth only $15.47 for a year,
Arkansas Is far behind other states In
the production of dairy products. The
natural advantages . tor making pas
tures, hay and grain are tremendous,
and the Arkansas farmer can well
afford to pay more attention to the
milk cow. Is the opinion of H. E.
Dvorachek, Professor of Animal Hus
bandry’ with the University of Arkan
sas, who says that a good dairy cow
in many states is expected to bring in
a gross income of at least $76.00 to
$100.00 a year.
Must Eradicate the Tick.
Arkansas can never become a great
dairy state until the tick is eradicated.
Ticks not only suck the blood from
our animals and stunt them as well
as make it impossible to produce milk
most economically, hut they make it
expensive and impractical to import
better sires In great numbers in an
effort to grade up the cattle we have
and eliminate the scrub.
Better Care Necessary—Brings
Returns.
Tt is true that the cattle tick is large
ly responsible for the number and
quality of our native cows; however,
the indifferent care which the cow*
have received is. perhaps, responsible
even to a larger extent. Dairying has
been too much on the summer pasture
basis too long in Arkansas. Most of
our cow’s are freshened in the spring
and turned on to the pasture during
the summer to make a living and give
what little milk they can produce un
der these conditions. Many of these
cows go dry by fall and are then
roughed through the winter on little
or no feed. The best cow in the world
cannot produce milk with such care.
There is no other animal on the
farm that is so hard and so willing a
worker as the dairy cow, provided she
Is supplied the raw material to work
with. Considering what the Arkan
sas fanner puts into his cows in the
way of feed and_ care, they are return
ing to him a greater return titan any
other farm animal in Bplte of the low
production. Clive the Arkansas farm
milk cow a chance and she will work
day and night, winter and summer,
and produce generously the best food
for your family.
SHOULD HAVE LESPEDEZA ON
EVERY FARM.
Lespedeza. or Japanese clover. Is a
plant which grows wild over moat of
pasture, and, in some places, for its
pacture, and, in some places, for lta
hay. It makes Its growth during tha
summer time and dies with the first
frost, coming again the next year, not
from the root but from seed which
drop in the fall. Although It Is ordi
narily found growing wild along the
roadsides and in waste places, yet
seed can be obtained and It can be
planted as any other farm crop and
thus get a crop when It is desired.
Lespedeza should be found on every Ar
kansas farm for hay or pasture, or
both, says A. D. McNair with the
Bureau of Farm Management co-ope
rating with the Kxtension Division of
the University of Arkansas.
Time to Plant. I.espedeza should
be sowed in late winter or early
spring, say the latter part of February
or early in March and if intended for
a hay crop may he sowed on top of
oats or wheat land where it will ger
minate and grow without further at
tention. It is a Tow growing plant and
yet it grows so thick that it often
makes large yields of hay. Where
the stand is thick the yield is usually
estimated to be one ton per acre for
each six inches in height; lienee I-es
pedoza which Is but little taller than
a shot top will frequently make a fair
yield of hay. It may he sowed for
pasture on any kind of land, hut for
hay it is most successful on creek
bottom lands, post oak flats or on the
silt loam soils adjacent to Crowley's
Ridge and Bayou Mason Ridge. It
docs better on (he stiff sittv soils (ban
on any sandy soils, though a good,
strong, sandy loam will produce a good
crop of hay. Moisture is more im
portant than the character of tne
soil for it Is a humid weather plant
and will make an excellent growth
on nearly every soil If rains are abund
ant, but is cut short in dry weather.
For this reason it does best on soils
which are naturally moist, but not wph
Quantity of Seed Per Acre. If In
tended for pasltire, one may start Wltli
a very small quantity of seed. ,«av
one peck per acre, and even if it is
not thick the first year it will become
thick of Itself the second year. If
planted for hay, one should use at
least three pecks per acre and even
a bushel is better. If, however, it ts
sowed on oats in the spring and i*
planted the first summer, one may
sow one-half bushel per acre and bp as
sured that the voluntary crop of jthe
following year will stand very thick
on the ground and will make a good
crop Where it is sowed with the. pb
jeef of harvesting it for seed, one-half
bushel per acre is ordinarily enouett
because It seeds better when the
plaits are not too thick.