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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (April 15, 1909)
RAW FOODS IN EVERYDAY DIET A "Balanced Ration" for Hu mankind Should Include Some of These. #Vom the I.Iterary Digest. That no diet should bo wltnoul Its share ef such raw foods as are easily digestible Is the opinion of Dr. J. H. Kellogg, who ■writes on the subject in Good Health. But while condemning an exclusive diet of cooked food, Dr. Kellogg does not give his approval to the raw diet Ideas ns re cently exploited by some persons. It has, he says, something In It of real value, but not the things claimed for It by Us com mercial advocates. We read: "Unquestionably, man, with other mem bers of the animal kingdom, was originally designed to take his food In an uncooked state. The comparative anatomists gen erally agree that the natural dietary of human beings consists of fruits, nuts and soft grains, that Is, grains in the milk state, In which the nutrient portion, which In tho ripe, hard grain Is found 111 the form of starch, exists In the easily as similable form of starch and dextrin. "Experience has shown that adherence to a diet of cooked food, to the entire ex clusion of uncooked foods, for some length of time, Invariably results In great Im pairment of nutrition; eymptoms resem bling scurvy make their appearance, with other Indications of decided malnutrition This has been especially noted In the feed ing of Infants “It has also been discovered that the harmful results which accompany a cooked dietary may be obviated by taking to Appropriate, 1# wholly without founda tion. and to urge such an argument nat urally creates prejudice against the use of raw food#. *'As regards the practical application of the foregoing facts, sometimes It may be said that an exclusive dietary of un cooked food may he followed by brief periods with advantage. For the average individual, however, It Is only necessary to exclude flesh foods of all sorts from the dietary, and to increase to a moderate degree the amount of uncooked food, con tained In the form of fresh fruits, nuts, lettuce, celery and similar products, and to take care to make these uncooked food stuffs a part of every meal." The Halo—What Is It? Vance Thompson, In Hampton’s Maga zine, speaks of the halo I was summoned one day to the Salt petrlere. In Paris, to see a woman who lay In a bed in the dark. She was a woman whose body, nerves and brain had been teased and tortured for years In psychic and occult experiment. What mental per turbation was racking that brain I did not know; and the physician# at her bedside did not know. With clenched hands and teeth and eyes open wide the woman lay there; her breathing was Irregular and not deep. What we saw was this: a luminous halo of a vague orange hue that circled her head, even os in the old picture# of martyred saints you see the heads mooned with faded gold. This halo was fluctuant. It camo and went; it was a light that flickered, grew, faded, formed itself anew. A miracle, this aureoled head? If you want to call It that. Word# are not of great Importance. It was a miracle whon It glowed around the head of a martyr tortured In the arena, so tortured by pain and fear that his disassociated psychic centers produced the phenomenon of the exteriorization of luminous energy. Perhaps It were better to cal! It at once a miracle and a presclentiflo fact, a fact. THE FABLE OF THE YOUNG HORSE An Original Apalogue Which Points a Very Good Moral. From Old Moore's Monthly Messenger. As life wears on ono often fails to see the benefits which are the outcome of present drudgery, hence we give tho following .is an encouragement to our readers. "Put the young horse In plow,” said the farmer; and very much pleased he was to be In a team with Dobbin and the grey mare. It was a long field, and gaily he walked across It, his nose upon Dobbin's haunches, having hard work to keep at so slow a pace. "Where are we going now?" he said, when he got to the top. "This Is very pleasant." ' Back again.” said Dobbin. "What for?” said the young horse, rather surprised; hut Dobbin had gone to sleep, for he could plow as well asleep as awake. “What are we going back for?” he asked, turning round to the old grey mare. "Keep on," said tho grey mare, “or we shall never get to the bottom, and you’ll havo the whip at your heels.” "Very odd Indeed," said the young horse, who thought ho had had enough of It and was not sorry ho was coming to the bottom of the held. Great was his astonishment when Dobbin, just opening his eyes, again turned, and proceeded at the same pace up the held aguln. "How long Is this going on," asked According toTHelr Bent. Safety Pin (with •corn)—You are not In the name class with me. Ordinary Pin— Oh, you haven’t any cause to be ■tuck up. Speak I n g of classes, ■ome of us have occupied chairs In the foremost ■choola and col leges. He Would Need Them. "That lady told me that she Is very much Inter • s t e d In my ■work." "W hat, that ■NdnwT" ' ‘Wen.’’ ! "Vou might na ‘■well order your JwediUng clothes.” A Prospective | Snub. ®tihe] — Tou "*onId harrtlyknow Svglnalil since he >t bark from Eu rope. He loet all his money thore, and— Elsie — Hardly know him' Why, T shan’t know him at all. Ths Aggrieved Party. "Has your auto mobile frightened any horses?” "No.” answered the novice. “But every now and then some horse turns suddenly In to the road and drives me a scare.” Foresight. "Why do you keep two automo biles r’ "I use the sec end one to bring along the things I’m likely to need In keeping the j first one In run-1 ning order.” Hiram: "So your son Arthur is going to law school?" Siram: "Yes, but he won’t pay no 'tention whatever to hla books. I guess maybe he's going to be one o' these here unwritten lawyers." Various Hunters. Hitt —Well, It’s just this way. The man who can go out hunting day after day and not rare whether he gets anything or not has the right stuff In him. v Witt—Yes, espe cially when he’s hunting for work, eh? Proof. "Did Mrs. Ogla mug’s husband leave her well pro vided for?” v "He left her fab ulously rich.” "How do you know ?” "I see by the latest society news she Is to be mar ried again.” Watches Him. She—Why Is It a woman never looks at the man s h e’s marrying when at the altar? He — I do not know, but I do know she keeps her eye on him pretty well after, the wedding. An Evidence of Disregard. "He seems to be very fond of mu sic,” said an audi tor. “He Isn’t,” an swered Miss Cay enne, "or he would not try to sing." Of Course Not. Daughter—Moth er, could I love two men at the same time? Mother — Not 11 one of them gets wise. Wonderful. Edith — Has slid any accomplish ments? Marie—Tes; one She can b 1 u s b . without trying. rare to administer with the cooked food daily a certain amount of raw food. Cer tainly in many of these cases a wonderful change is brought about by introducing Into the dietary suitable raw foods, such as fresh Juices, whey, buttermilk, and even fruit pulp “Still another advantage of the uncooked dietary Is the fact that vegetable proteins are not readily attacked by the putrefac tive or poison-forming organisms. What ever may be the reason for this the fact is recognized and admitted by authorities in dietetics. There is reason also for be lieving that uncooked or living vegetable tissues are much more resistant to the at tack of parasitic bacteria which abound in the intestine and which feed upon the un digested and unabsorbed residues of food stuffs. The living cells of plants as well as those of animal tissues, have the pow er to resist the attacks of invading or ganisms This is why a cooked potato will ■our in a few hours, while a raw potato will remain Intact for a long time. The Bame difference exists between cooked and uncooked vegetable products of all «orts.“ In addition, Dr. Kellogg goes on to say, it is possible that the body may derive benefit from certain substances in the raw Juices of fruits and vegetables which are destroyed in cooking. And at any rate, he Is sure that the facts justify us In maintaining that a wholesome and sufficient dietary for human beings must Include uncooked foodstuffs. He goes on: “The form in which raw food should be taken is a matter of considerable Impor tance. Fresh fruits are a most accept able and natural form of raw food. Fruits and nuts are readily digestible when taken in the raw state, provlued, of course, that they are properly masticated. It is a question, indeed, whether the nu tritive properties of nuts and fruits are to any extent improved by cookery. It has also been shown that the freshly formed green parts ot plants, such as the leave* of lettuce, the heart of cabbage, and the tender parts of asparagus, are readily and practically completely digesti ble This is not true, however, of the coarse and fibrous woody material found In the envelop of wheat, oats and other grains. It is equally untrue of the cellu lose found In the coarser vegetables. Ex periments have shown also that raw starch in the form in which it occurs in a potato and in the various cereals is not easily digestible. The claim made by many raw food advocates that raw food is better than cooked food because it contains a vital principle which the body needs and is able that Is, which Is occult, but Is In th« way of becoming known. 1 asked Dr. Fere what ho thought of this miracle. "I have often seen It," he said. The field of his experiments was the mad house at Hlcetre. There many neurophatlc patients abide; and often In cases'of se vere headache, or of religious ecstasy-, he has seen these fluctuant aureoles around tho head. “Tho rays are often 20 centimeters In extent, quite regular, forming a perfect aureole," he explained. There Is, then, a form of energy, en dowed with luminous properties, emanat ing from the human body, under certain conditions. A Matter of Age. From the New York Tribune. The Rev. C. W. Gordon, of Winnipeg, startled Ills brother clergymen at a recent convention by advocating the saving of souls ' right off tho bat.” He said that souls worked upon slowly were likely "to go bad on one's hands." Afterward Mr. Gordon compared the honest and sincere ways of the frontier with the false and venomous ways of certain circles of fashionable society. Ho Illuminated the comparison with a dialogue. "I overheard this dialogue." he said, “at a reception that I once attended in Washington. The speakers were two grande dames—I believe that is the word-two powerful sociat leaders, one from Philadelphia, the other from New York. “ 'Well.' said the first grande dame, 'I must bo off. I've got to go and sec my mother.' “The second put up her lorgnette P.nd drawled: " 'Really—ah—you don't mean to say you've got a mother living?' "The first grande dame laughed—a high, thin laugh, with something biting, like add In it. " ‘Oh. yes,’ she. said; 'my mother Is still alive—and she doesn't look a day older than you do, I assure you.' ” Necessity Is ths Mother, Etc. Wo saunter Into the workshop of our friend, the Inventor, and find him putter ing over a strange contrivance of wings and sails and propellers. "Inventing an airship?" we ask, quite unnecessarily. “Yes.” he replies, without looking up. "Think It will fly?” “It's got to. I've got to get out of this town some way, and my creditors are watching every road and railway station." the young horse. Dobbin Just glnnced across the field as his eyes closed, and fell asleep again, as he began to calculate how long it would take to plow it. “How long will this go on?" he asked, turning to the grey marc. "Keep up, I tell you,” she said, “or you'll have me on your hoels.” When the top came, and another turn, and the bottom, and another turn, the poor young horse was in de spair; he grew quite dizzy, and was glad, like Dobbin, to shut his eyes, that he might get rid of tho sight of the same ground so continually. "Well," ho said, when the gears were taken off, "If this Is your plowing. I hope I shall have no more of it.” But his hopes were vain; for many days he plowed, till he got—not reconciled to It—but tired of complaining of the weary, monotonous w'ork. In the hard winter, when comfort ably housed in the warm stable, he cried out to Dobbin, as lie was eating some delicious oats, “I say, Dobbin this is better than plowing; do you remember that field? I hope I shall never have anything to do with that business again. What in the world could be the use of walking up a field just for the sake of walking down again? It's enough to make ono laugh to think of it." “How do you like your oats?" said Dobbin. "Delicious:" said the young horse. "Then please to remember, if there were no plowing, there would be no oats." Just the Thing. From the Cleveland Deader. •V certain gentleman, having In his cellar some surplus ale on the verge of spoiling, was one day walking around his estate when he came across a party of workmen. Hailing the foreman, he ostentatiously presented the ale to the men, giving them leave to fetch it as they desired it. Some time afterward he met the foreman and proceeded to extract a suitable acknowledgment of his bounty. “Well, Ulles, did you and your mea have that ale?” "Yes, sir, and thank you.” "How did you like it?" “Oh, it was Just tho thing for us, sir." “That's right. But what do you mean by 'Just the thing?' “ "Why, sir. If it 'ad been a little bet ter we shouldn't 'a 'ad it, and if it 'ad been a little worse we couldn't 'a' drlnked it" The House of the Black By F. L Pattee Ring Copyright^90^^j| j CHAPTER VI—Continued. "Oh, pshaw, pap! I believe you're get ting soft-headed. Here, take one of these dumplings and get out. You're in my road. I believe you've spoiled my pies now. Come, clear out." The change was Instant. "But I want you to promise, Rose,” he said, hesitating a moment and look ing at her, the dumpling In Ills hand. "Oh, clear out. They want you over to the store. Come, start, or I'll spatter you!” She held the dipper threaten ingly. The old look was in her eyes again. He went out laughing, munch ing at the dumpling. His good nature, however, was short lived. When he reached the store the group about the stove looked up ex pectantly. “Say, squire,” a sharp voice piped up, "they say you're going to put the law to that young Farthing. Yas?" "That's Just what I'm going to do,” he responded grimly. "What charge you calc'latin' to make?” "I'ntylng Karl's hoss." “And what law does that break?” squire?" "It’s trespassing, and It's attempted damage of property, and half a dozen things." "You can prove It, I s'pose?" "Prove It? Well, I should say! You Just watch me. I can prove It 27 dif ferent ways. Say, look here, do you know this Farthing crowd's going to change the whole tone of this valley? There's trouble ahead. You take my word for it, they're a hard lot and thoy'll bear watching. There ain't a doubt in my mind but what that critter was actually trying to steal the hoss. Yessuh.” "Say, look here, squire.” Dan Tress ler was moving uneasily on his egg crate. "Have you got a single proof ttiat Jim Farthing really untied that hoss wunst? Now, have yeh, squire?" ''Proof? What'd I say? I've got proof to born. I can bring half a dozen fellers who’ll swear on the bible they saw him go out." "But does that prove that he untied the hoss?” "Well, It comes mighty near It." “But will that prove It?” persisted the man doggedly. “Book here, Dan. What do you mean? Of course we can prove It. He had a motive; we can prove that, can’t we? He had a chance; we can prove that. Ho went out; we can prove that. He profited by It and without the loss of a minute; we can prove that. What more do you want?” "And you are going to have him ar rested and tried on that eveidence?" "I am going to send for the sheriff Just as soon as I can telephone him." "Then let me tell you this, squire." There was suppressed excitement in the man's voice. "If It comes to a trial, then you'll have me for a witness. I drove that bobsled myself last night, it was my rig. I was in the tavern room all the time and I'll swear on the bible that Jim Farthing come In when the rest did, and didn't go ou' till they did. He never left the room. I know It. And I’ll swear that when Karl Kelchllne got onto my sled at Moon Run bridge and told us as how Jim had unhitched his hoss wunst, three or four, and I can lei! their names still, spoke right up and said as hoy they knew he didn’t leave the room. Joe Hubler said that lie set right beside Jim all the even ing. and Joe won't lie. You'd better go slow, squire.’’ "And you’ll swear to that?” and the ohl man’s face was twitching with wrath. There was a threat in the tone, and Dan felt it. "Yes, sir: I will, for it’s God's truth, squire.” He was fairly trembling with excitement. "Oh, yes; them Farthings are pretty fine birds, aren't they now.”' he burst out with a withering sneer. “How long has It been since they hired you to de fend their doings? Heigh? You've been hand In glove with ’em al! the fall. I’ve saw It, and now you’ll swear to that, will yeh? Heigh?" "I won't swear to nothing but jest God's truth,” maintained the man stubbornly. "Al Farthing was good to me, and I’m not going hack on him when ho's in the right still.” "In the right? Well, suh, we’ll see. It '11 take more than your little swear ing to clear up this scrape, I'll promise rou that.” He stormed out Into the back store, slamming the door behind him. Hut he did not telephone the sheriff In the meantime young Jim had had but a single thought. He had polished the little mare till she fairly shone. He had crimed her mane, and tied her foretop with a Jaunty ribbon, and had even polished her hoofs. As she stood In her newly oiled harness, with the lamb skin breastplate and the glittering nickel work, she was Indeed a beauty. She 'showed not a trace of her hard usage of the night before: she was alive In every nerve, and foil to tho brim of mettle and fire. Punctual to the minute, young Jim swung up before tho squire's front gate. He could not repress a little thrill of trepidation. How would Rose feel about it after she had thought It over? Would she want to try the horse now? And what about the old squire? He was not kept long In suspense. He had hitched his horse and was Just starting to the sleigh for the blanket w'hen he heard a sound behind him. He turned to find the old man coming from the store at a shuffling run. "Here. here, young man; what do you want?" There was no mistaking the tone or the look on the mans face. "I am calling for Miss Hartswlck. She-•" "Well, sir, you won't see her. You untie that hoss and get out of here Just as quick as God Almighty '11 let yeh." "Why. she asked me to cal!.’’ he stammered confusedly. "She wants to try the horse.” "That don't make no difference,” he roared, taking a step toward him. “You get out of here, and don't you ever let me see you on these premises again just as long as you live. Clear out, 1 say! Start!" Without a word, Jim turned to the hitching post, and tho old man. fairly quivering in his wrath, made a movement to go. Then he caught a glimpse of the little mare, turned automatically, drew u step nearer, patted her on the shoul der, and opened her mouth with a deft movement. "How old is she—five?” "Five in Jane." "Sound?" "Absolutely perfect." "Know anything about her pedigree?" He was examining her like a Judge at a county fair. “Sired by Phllly Boy out of Lucy M." The old man cocked his head In stantly. "Sure of It? Can you prove It?” "Yes. sir." "Say. let me feel of her a little—will yeh." "Sure, if you'll let me go with you." “Get in." He gathered up the reins with skilled hand, and they swung by the store at a rattling clip. A curious crowd was watching them. "By George!” the old man ejaculated after a moment. "How long have yeh had her?" j “Ever since she was a colt." The I squire shook the reins over her back, and she swung down the long stretch with the ease and precision of a ma chine. "Give yeh two hunderd for her.” "I’ve refused five.” "Give yeh five fifty.” "No.” "Six?” “No." “How much? What’s your price?” "She can’t be bought. I don’t want to sell her.” "Of course she can be bought. There ain’t a thing in this valley that can’t be bought. How much?" "Five hundred and fifty thousand.” "Here, don’t you get smart, young fellow. How—much'll—you—take?” He turned the mare skilfully and started on the return. "I mean what I say. Squire Harts wick. There isn't money enough in this valley to buy her. She’s not for sale.” “Mighty Important, ain’t yeh?” His anger flashed up like a fuse. "Mighty important folks up there, ain’t yeh? Money no object. Got it by the barrel, I ’spose? Well, I’ve taken’ a fancy to this mare and I’m going to have her. You mind that.” "You won’t buy her, Squire Harts wick. If you get her It'll be by foul means.” "All-1-1-1 right, sir, we’ll see. I’ve said it—I’m going to own this mare; you take note ’o what I say. Here, take her. I’ll get out here.” He drew up before the store. "Now, let me tell you one thing, young man. You may see the day when you’ll be good—and —glad to sell this mare for anything you can get. Y’ou may bo glad to do it, You haven't heard the last of that caper last night, young feller; not by a long chalk. And you remember an other thing; you keep away from my premises. Understand? You’re liable to hear from me now at any minute. Good day, sir.” Young Jim made no answer. He drove fiercely homeward, more angry than he had ever been before in hi3 whole life. CHAPTER VIT. THE FLITTING DINNER. All fools’ day In the Seven moun tains Is the time for "flitt’ns,” be the sign and the moon’s phase what they may. Everywhere on this April morn ing you will meet long lines of vehicles loaded with household goods—every where a kaleidoscope of movement: old families leaving, new ones arriving; cattle and sheep and hogs driven along the highways; “riggin’s" of every pat tern piled with a grotesque confusion; women and children perched high among the boxes and bureaus and dressers; old bed posts sticking out at every angle; and reapers and mowing machines dragged along behind “hay ladders" through the April slush. One day later you will seek in vain through all the region for any trace of a "flitt'n.’ ’’ Like all other institutions in the mountains—butcherings, schnlttings. infaros, apple-butterings, weddings— "flitt’ns" are governed by certain in flexible traditions. As a rule, only near relatives are invited to a "flitt'n.” Should this exclusive circle, however, not possess the requisite number of "riggin’s,” then others are very wel come, for it is unlucky if there be not teams enough to take everything at one grand trip. Finally, like all things else in the Dutch belt, even funerals, the affair must be crowned with an ample dinner furnished by the flitter and pre sided over by the good flitting wife. So much of flittlngs. Dan Tressler was moving into Sugar Valley. Six weeks before nothing had been farther from his intention, but much may happen in six weeks. It had come to him like a Hash in cle?' weather. "Step in here, Dan,” the squire had said to him one day in February. "Come into my office, will you?" And he had gone in. greatly wondering. "Your lease expires April 1st, don’t it." "Yes." "I'm sorry, but I can’t renew it.” "What—what’s that?" It was as if the air had suddenly been pumped from the room. "No; I can’t renew it. You see-” "Why, squire, I’ve lived on your farm nine years. Haven’t I suited yeh? I’ve put a lot of money out. I’ve tak en pride in it. I’ve-’’ “Sorry, Dan, but I can’t help it. You've run it well; I haven’t any fault to And, but that nephew of mine three years ago wanted the lease. I’d al ready made it out to you, but he made me promise I’d give him the next chance. It seems I signed a paper. I’d forgot all about it till he reminded me of it yesterday. He said he was going to hold me right to it; there’s no use of my kicking. I'm mighty sorry, Dan." "But the improvements I’ve made, squire-” "It's hard luck; I see that. But you know I didn’t ask you to make ’em.” “But the farm’s worth double what it was when I took it. I’ve sunk more’n a thousand dollars on it In work and money; you’ll-’’ “As I say, that’s your own matter. I didn’t require it. Y’ou did it on your own responsibility. It’s your lookout.” "But if I was satisfying yeh. why did you promise him the place? Why didn’t you tell me?” "The rascal’s a sharper; that’s the long and short of it. There’s no use trying to hide it; he got the best of me, and you know mighty few can say they ever done that. I didn't realize what he wanted till it was too late, and I'd entirely forgot about it till he came in yesterday. He's got me tight and fast. There’s no way out of it, Dan. I'm powerless as a child." And Dan, after a moment of protest, had gi ven in, despite the flimsy excuse, for I it is useless, however great the provo cation. to ram one’s head against a stone wall. Now he was moving into Sugar Valley, and 12 farm wagons . stood in his yard. The morning had swarmed with sur i prises. The first had coigj when Amos 1 Harding had driven up wun the squire's I best team; then had come Rose with ! her buggy full of baskets and bundles ! to help With the dinner—clearly the old man was doing all he could for Dan; but the crowning sensation was Jim Farthing, who had driven in late with i his father’s great team of Percherons. ; The workers held their breaths: any : thing might happen now. Young Jim was in Joyous mood; he | had caught a glimpse of Rose in the ’ kitchen, and the effect had been magi cal. There had been small chance to | speak to her since that eventful night .— J [ on Moon run. He had seen her many 4 1 times; he had even been very near her, 1 for he had suddenly become most reg ular In his church attendance, but with Karl Keichllne at the door and the old squire at the front, there had been no hope for him. Now, however, they were far away: the thought exhil arated him. He plunged Into the work with all his soul. Perchance she was looking. And if sho were, she saw a goodly sight: the great, square-shoul dered fellow tugging away at the big boxes and bureaus, and holding Ills end against two men on the other. Once he ventured Into the kitchen for a drink of water, and found the room fairly quivering with energy; it seemed full of women. “Come, no men folks allowed here. We’re working in here.” Rose was in command. There was snap in her voice, and there was fun and mischief. It set the room into a merry burst, which somehow' confused him mightily. “Rut I want some water.” "Oh, you do. All right, here you are." She scooped a cup Into the water bucket and like a flash showered him with It. Then she laughed again. “There, you’ve got it; now' skip. Run where you belong, or we’ll take hot water to you.” He hesitated, but there was nothing else to do. “Here,” she called, as he was turn ing toward the door. “Here’s a dipper. Catch!” Sho threw It with a deft swing, and he caught it in one hand. ” 'Spose you try the cistern. There’* where we get our water. Goodby.” "Good-bye,” lie echoed In puzzled tone; then he retreated awkwardly . amid much laughter from around th* sizzling stove. At eleven exactly the bell on th# kitchen roof began to Jangle wildly. Dinner was on time, and the men. dropping everything on the instant, swarmed into the house a motley crowd with coats off and shirt sleeves rolled high. Just Inside they encount ered Mrs. Tressler, who, nervous and excited, was running hither and thither as If demented. “Here, Uncle Jake,” she was calling jerkily, "you take this here chair wunst; Abe and Lem, you set right down here. And, oh, here, Amos, here’s a place for you still. Thar! And th* rest of yeh. Lord! set anywhere you get a chance wunst. Thar!” She mad* a side plunge for the stove w'here three nervous women were scooping up vari ous things out of pot and kettle, re bounded like a rubber ball to the sink, where Rose and another were peeling potatoes, then spun about and delivered a sweeping order: “Hurry up, quick, now," she gasped. "Quick—they’re down!” Then she swirled In a sidling flutter around th# table like a June bug about a lamp. The great rattling and scraping of chairs and feet as the men took their places was succeeded by a sepulchral hush. "Uncle Jacob, will you Invoke the di vine blessing?” Dan’s voice sounded solemn and funeral. The old man arose and In quavering tones went through with the formula. Then the meal was on. "Fall right to, boys, and do your darndest. I can’t watt on yeh; I’ve gut my hands full right here. Let ’er go.” "All right, Dan,” Joined in Amos. "Here goes; sail In boys. Don’t let all this good stuff phaze ye. You hain’t no Idee what you can do Jest by takln' one mouthful at a time.” Amos was In his element. Good cook ing was his chief theme at a dinner like this, and ho was at his best. "Say, now.” he began In a high drawling voice. “You Dutch have your Tallin's, but you’re all right when It comes to vittles. Why, take It on spreads, you beat the whole world and Center county. I never set down to a Dutch dinner yet where there wan’t at least five spreads. And they’re all good too, and so’s your scrapple, and llver urst, and ponhoss, and sclinltts-and knepff—say, Mary Ann, this is the best schnltts-and-knepff I ever put into my old head. Pass her up again, Dan.’* “I reckon we can cook schnltts-and knepff still,” tittered the mistress with pardonable pride. "There, now, there’s another thing I like about you Dutch,” he went on garrulously. "When you set down to a meal of vittles In a Dutch kitchen the wlmmen folks all pitch right In and tell you how plaguey good everything Is. It fairly makes your mouth water whether you're hungry or not, and you ^ eat like sin before you fairly know It. Take a Yankee woman now, she’ll say nine times out of ten, even If her din ner is right up perfect: ’There now, I'm ashamed to death over this here dinner. I’ve hed terrible bad luck, and there ain’t a thing fit to eat.’ ’’ He imitated In high falsetto voice a com plaining woman. "After she’s done runnln’ her stuff down you hain’t got no more appetite than a mouse.” “Oh. chlmminy; that's easy.” Ulle was chuckling mightily. "Reason why Yankee women runs down their vittles still Is 'cause they don’t know how to cook anything that’s decent. HelnT Yar-r-r! e-e-e-e-e! Oh, my! say, Amos, give us someslng hard a’ready." A great laugh rolled about the tables. Th# man straightened Instantly. (Continued Next Week.) Helen. She sits within the white oak hall. Hung with the trophies of the chase— Helen, a stately maid and tall, ' Dark haired and pale of face; With drooping lids and eyes that brood. Sunk In the depths of some strange mood. She gazes in the fireplace, where The oozing pine logs snap and flare, Wafting the perfume of their, native wood. The wind Is whining In the garth, The leaves are at their dervish rounds The flexible flames upon the hearth Hang out their tongues like panting hounds. The Are, I deem, she holds In thrall; Its red light fawns as she lets fall Escalloped pine cones, dried and brown, From loose, white hands, till up ana down The colored shadows dye the dusky wall The tawny lamp flame tugs Its wick; Upon the landing of the stair The ancient clock is heard to tick In shadows dark as Helen's hair; And by a gentle accolade A squire to languid silence made, I lean upon my palms, with eyes O’er which a rack of fancy flies, While dreams like gorgeous sunsets flam* and fade. And as I muse on Helen’s face, Within the firelight's ruddy shine. Its beauty takes an olden grace Idke hers whose fairness was divine; The dying embers leap, and lo! Troy wavers vaguely all aglow. And In the north wind leashed without I hear the conquering Arglves’ shout; And Helen feeds the flames as long ago! _—E. A. U. Valentin*. A Poor Proepect. "A dangerous neighborhood you're Hy ing In, colonel." said a newspaper man ta Charles Edwards, of the democratic con gressional campaign committee, a few nights ago In Washington. “Been fou» highway robberies there in the past month Aren't you afraid that somebody will hold you up and go through you some night?" "Should say not," said the big Texan. "Why, Ah've got so few means on my pusson at the present time that the rob ber who goes through me will get hisself In debt." The prlrna nobUle, a shellfish found In the Mediterranean, spins a fine silk.