A Monster Plow

1895

The Farmer Who Made It Overlooked Some Mechanical Principles.

Few people are aware of the fact that what is very likely the largest single share plow in the world was made in California and is at present on one of the ranches of the Kern County Land company, near Bakersfield. It is not in use, however, but is simply kept as a curiosity in a little yard all by itself.

It is over 15 years since the idea of the plow was conceived by J. Thompson, a ranch foreman. He was tired of preparing a 3,000 acre wheatfield for crops with the ordinary nine or twelve inch plows worked by two horses then in use. He made his calculations very carefully, but not being a mathematician made a great mistake.

He figured that if two horses could pull a 12 inch plow six horses could pull a 36 inch one, and that eight horses could pull a 48 inch one. It seemed natural enough to figure that way when in fact he should have "cubed" the capacity of his 12 inch plow every time he doubled the width of it. A 12 inch plow, when it is pulled the distance equal to its width, displaces one cubic foot of soil, and a 36 inch plow will displace 27 cubic feet instead of 3, as Mr. Thompson figured.

After all the calculations and drawings were made a blacksmith came out from Bakersfield, and in due time the monster plow was ready to go to work in the field. The share was made to cut a 50 inch furrow, and the top of it reached about five feet from the ground. The beam was over a foot thick, and the handles were 10 feet long, but of course did not slope at the same angle as in the ordinary plows. To enable the plow to be turned around easily it was suspended between two 8 foot wheels, on the axle of which was a seat for the driver. It made a huge, ugly contrivance that looked like a nightmare.

When the plow was taken to the field, ten horses were fastened to it. The handles were raised and the horses started, but as soon as the share was about half way into the ground they stopped. More horses were brought out and sunk it a little deeper, but not until 50 had been hitched to the plow did it move through the soil at any sort of speed. At best it moved slowly, and it took four men to hold the handles and make it stay in the furrow.

Horses were cheap in Kern county at that time, and feed cost nothing, so the plow was a little saving after the men had learned how to handle it so it did not cut more than 18 or 20 inches deep. The next season it was tried with oxen, and it took 75 of them to do the work. On the whole, the plow was not a success, and after being tinkered at for a few years was finally discarded and at last given a place in the stable yard, where it could be preserved as a curiosity. — San Francisco Call.

He Lands 95-Pound Catfish

1916

Winona Man's Catch Is Thought Season's Record.

WINONA, Minnesota. — William Dixon of this city made what is thought to be the season's record catch along the upper Mississippi, when he landed a catfish weighing 95 pounds, near Dresbach, this county. The fish measured four and a half feet from tip to tip. It is said to have been caught on a set line.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Sept. 16, 1916, p. 5.

Largest of Animals

1901

Mr. Beddard in his book on whales reminds readers that although imagination is apt to picture the giant reptiles of the Jurassic and Cretaceous periods as having exceeded in size all modern animals yet in fact there is no evidence that the earth has ever contained either on the land or in the sea creatures exceeding the whale in bulk. The mammoth was larger than the elephant, but the ichthyosaurus could not match the whale for size, although with its terrible jaws it would doubtless have been the whale's master.

The Smallest Human Brain

1908

Proof That Size of Organ Does Not Measure Intellect

What is believed to be the smallest brain ever found in a normal human being was revealed as a result of autopsy performed at the New York city morgue upon the body of Daniel Lyons, a watchman, employed in the Pennsylvania tunnel excavation.

Lyons became ill suddenly while at work, and, having had no medical attendance, his death came technically under the investigation of the coroner, Dr. Philip O'Hanlon, who, with Prof. John E. Larkin, of the College of Physicians and Surgeons, made the autopsy, found that the brain of Lyons weighed only 24 ounces, although the normal weight of the human cerebrum is from 48 to 50 ounces.

Lyons was 40 years of age, five feet five inches in height and weighed 140 pounds. Those who had known him for many years testified that he was of average intelligence. The cause of the man's death was inflammation of the kidneys. The man's brain seemed in every way normal except as to size.

"It is one of the most remarkable brains I have ever seen," said Dr. O'Hanlon, who has made thousands of autopsies, "and it shows that the size of the brain does not necessarily measure the intellect of man. Lyons was, from all that I can learn, intelligent and capable. The quality of the brain, and not the size of it, counts. One of the smallest brains known to anatomists was that of Gambetta, at one time president of France, and a brilliant and forceful thinker."

Comparative tables of the weights of human brains bear out the idea of Dr. O'Hanlon that there is little connection between the weight of the brain and the power of the intellect.

Half Pound Baby Gets Along Nicely

1920

NEW YORK, N.Y. — Mr. and Mrs. Louis Ouisett are proud of being the parents of the littlest baby in New York. She is Jeanne Ouisett, and when she and her twin brother, Louis, were born Feb. 24 she weighed just under half a pound. Louis was bigger, tipping the scale at three-quarters of a pound, but he lacked the vitality of his sister and died a few hours after birth.

At the Bellevue Hospital the doctor and nurses believe the baby will live.



N.Y. Beds Too Short to Fit Tallest Yank

Brooklyn Pal Finally Leads Him to a "Rigged-Up" Couch

NEW YORK, N.Y. — Being the tallest man of the A. E. F. is something to be proud of, but it has its disadvantages when one goes looking for a place to sleep in this city.

Robert Redington of Pittston, Pa., former sergeant major in the 311th Artillery band, 79th Division, who is 6 feet 7, made the discovery on a recent night.

He finally appealed to Secretary James F. Drum at the K. of C. employment hut in Longacre square, who took Redington to his home in Brooklyn and managed to rig up a bed so his feet didn't stick out over the footboard.