Frosty Drinks Will Cool You! (See Recipe* Below) * Frost Yourself! _ When the thermometer rises to the hundred mark, homemakera look tor cool ideas, and thirst-chas ers are first on the list Cooling drinks literally give you a frost and insulate you from the warm !rays of Old Man Sun. In today's column I'm attempting to give you a parade of cool drinks to nt every pock et book, every oc casion. They use fruit juices, pre pared beverages, prepared drink powders, milk, citrus fruit and of course, plenty of ice. After you ve prepared tnem, find the coolest spot on the porch, sink into the most comfortable chair, end start sipping! Chilling fruit, juices, milk or bev erages is of first importance in pre paring your cool drink, but then iyou've probably already done this. If a survey were made during these summer months, I’m sure it would reveal that a larger percentage of .the refrigerator Is used for cool drink preparations than any other litem. One of the best bases for a good, cool drink is a citrus fruit Doesn’t lit honestly cool you already to think of orange or lemon juice cool and frosty in a glass with tinkling ice? ‘Indeed, It does. There’s a scientific (fact behind this, for scientists tell us that in hot weather the tissues jof the body require more vitamin C than when temperatures are mod erate. That’s one reason why or jangcs and lemons are ideal for sum imer drinks. If yeu want something to serve company on a summer evening, here’s a drink that wiU fill any or der: Hollywood Parade. (Serves 15) 1 pint orange Juice 1 pint orange sherbet 1 pint vanilla ice cream 1 pint chilled ginger ale Beat orange juice, sherbet and ice cream with a whirl type beater until well mixed. Add ginger ale. Stir and serve at once. Another kind of orange drink wbich is nice to fix individually for yourself in the afternoon when you’re feeling a lag is this: *Orange Cream. (Serves 1) 1 egg yolk K cup orange Juice !4 cup thin cream or evaporated milk Sugar, if desired Beat egg yolk until light, add or ange juice and blend thoroughly. Pour into glass and stir in cream. Sweeten to taste. Serve at once. There are several delightful fla vors obtainable in fruit powders that I _li.'-i.'-.. V. ._ Lynn Chambers’ Point Saving Menn Tomato Juice •Ham Supper Salad Green Lima Beans Carrot Strips Com Sticks •Orange Cream Cookies •Recipe Given are simply deli cious when made into cooling, frosty drinks. Use the directions on the package for mixing, garnish with a cherry and sprig of mint and J.E no X/A OJ _24_ j\Z you nave a drink without the trouble of extracting fruit juice. Use the fruit powders also for making light sherbets that solve the dessert prob lem nicely. Sherbet. (Makes over 1 quart) 1 package flavored fruit powder 1 cup heavy cream, well chilled 1 cup sugar 2 cups milk Dissolve fruit powder and sugar in milk. Turn into freezing tray and freeze 54 to 1 hour or until slushy. Whip cream until stiff. Add to first mixture and beat through until blended, keeping as cold as possible. Return quickly to freez ing tray and freeze at coldest point When frozen, set cold control back to normal. The hotter the weather, the more wilted you become. Nothing quite picks you up as a nice salad, and even the thought of cool, crisp greens brings back the starch to your spir its. Here are some suggestions which are perfect for summer: *Ham Supper Salad. (Serves 4) 2 cups diced cooked bam 1 cup diced celery 2 hard-cooked eggs, diced 54 cup mayonnaise 154 teaspoons sweet pickle relish 154 teaspoons chili sauce Salad greens Combine first three ingredients. Then stir in next three ingredients which have been combined togeth er. Mix thoroughly and chill until ready to serve. Serve on any de sired salad greens. Summer Dream Salad. Watermelon balls Grapefruit sections Fresh whole raspberries Pineapple segments Orange sections Ifoneydew slices Blueberries Mint Salad dressing Arrange fruit on a bed of salad greens according to a pattern. Serve with salad dressing and garnish with mint sprigs. Salad Dressing. 2 tablespoons currant Jelly 54 cup lemon Juice 54 cup salad oil 1 teaspoon salt 1 teaspoon paprika 2 tablespoons granulated sugar or honey 2 teaspoons chill sauce Crush jelly with fork and beat smooth. Add remaining ingredients and beat with hand beater until blended. Serve over fruit salad or mixed greens. Sandwich Hints In making sandwiches, soften but ter or margarine before using. Avoid melting butter or margarine as it seeps into bread and makes a greasy filling. A good way is to mix 54 cup pea nut butter, apple butter, or jelly with 54 cup of butter to extend the butter supply. This makes enough spread for 16 slices of enriched bread. , Varieties of fruit-nut bread, orange bread or chease bread make a combination that really is a vic tory special. Wise use of enriched flour saves needed ration points. If you hate a canning problem, write to Mist Lynn Chambers, Western News paper Union, 210 South Desplainet Street, Chicago, III. Please enclose m self-addressed envelope for your reply. Released by Western Newspaper Union, MY: FRIEND :: FLICK A' t* MARY O'HARA .5 THE STORY SO FAR: Ten-year-old Ken McLaughlin, given an opportunity to choose any yearling on his family’s Wy oming ranch, picks the ally of a “loco" mare. His father, a retired army officer, is disappointed by Ken's choice and -by his failure at school. When Fllcka, the filly, is badly hurt trying to jump the corral fence, Ken takes the opportunity to make friends with the wild little colt. Although be Is now convinced that Flicka is not '‘loco’’ like her mother, Captain McLaughlin does not think she will get well. But Ken, who always wanted a colt of bis own. is still hopeful. He believes he can tame Flicka, who Is to him something fine and beautiful. Now continue with the story. CHAPTER XVn At dinner. Ken ate nothing. How ard said, “Ken isn’t eating his din ner—doesn't he have to eat, Moth er?” But Nell answered, “Leave him alone.” Ken had understood what his fa ther meant when he said, "I won’t have a thing like that on my place." To allow an animal to die a linger ing death was something his father would not do. Flicka was to be shot. He didn’t hear his father give the order to Gus. “Pick a time when Ken isn’t around, Gus, and take the Winchester and put the Ally out of her misery.” “Ja, Boss—” Ken watched the gun rack In the dining room. All the guns were standing in it. No guns were al lowed in the bunk house. Going through the dining room to the kitch en three times a day for meals, Ken’s eyes scanned the weapons to make sure they were all there. That night they were not all there. The Winchester was missing. When Ken saw that, he stopped walking. He felt dizzy. He kept staring at the gun rack, telling him self that it surely was there—he counted again — he couldn’t see clearly. Then he felt an arm across his shoulders and heard his father’s voice. "I know, son. Some things are awful hard to take. We just have to take ’em. I have to, too." Ken got hold of his father’s hand and held on. It helped steady him. Finally he looked up. Rob looked down and smiled at him and gave him a little shake and squeeze. Ken managed a smile too. "All right now?" “All right, Dad.” They walked in to supper together. Ken even ate a little. But Nell looked thoughtfully at the ashen col or of his face; and at the little pulse that was beating in the side of his neck. After supper Ken carried Flicka her oats, but he had to coax her and she would hardly touch them. She stood with her head hanging, but when he stroked it and talked to her, she pressed her face into his chest and was content. He could feel the burning heat of her body. It didn’t seem possible that anything so thin could be alive. Presently Ken saw Gus come into the pasture carrying the Winches ter. When he saw Ken, he changed his direction and sauntered along as if he was out to shoot cottontails. Ken ran to him. “When are you going to do it, Gus?” “Ay was goin down soon now, be fore it got dark—” “Gus, don't dp it tonight. Wait till morning. Just one more night, Gus." “Veil, in de morning den, but it got to be done, Ken. Yer fadder gives de order." “I know. I won’t say anything more." Gus went back to the bunk house and Ken returned to Flicka. At nine o’clock Howard was sent by Nell to call Ken. He stood at the corral gate, shouting. Flicka was still standing in her nursery when the full moon rose at ten. It was the Hunter’s Moon, as yellow as the Harvest Moon. Flicka’s wounds did not pain her, but the suction of the down-whirling spiral was an agony felt through every part of her. Now and then her young body found strength to fight against it; she struggled; she lifted her head. She was thirsty. The smell of the fresh running water drew her. She waded into the stream and drank; got her fill, lifted her head, turned it again to the house. The cool water rippled against her legs. There was no sound from the house, no feet running upon the path, and suddenly the last of her little strength was gone. Lunging forward, she fell, half on the bank, half in the water, and lay there, struggling convulsively. At last she was still. Some minutes later, from ten miles away on the towering black timbered shoulders of Pole Moun tain, there stole out the most deso late cry in the world—the howl of the gray timber wolf. It rode on the upper air without a tremor, high and thin, pointed as a needle. Through long minutes the note was sustained, mournful and remote— through long moments it died, with a falling cadence of profound listless ness; and even before it ceased, it had become the very essence of the quiet of the night Ken had seen the Hunter’s Moon rise ovsr the eastern horizon before he went upstairs, and lying in bed, wide awake, and shaken by a steady fine quivering, he could see it reflected in the opened casement window of his room. He hadn’t completely undressed, but he had the sheet drawn up to his chin, in case his mother or fa ther came in to look at him. He heard them, talking together in their room as they undressed. How long they took. It seemed to him hours before the whole house was quiet— as quiet as the night was outside. He waited still another hour, till everyone was so deep asleep there would be no chance of their hear ing. Then he stole out of bed and put on the rest of his clothes. He carried his shoes in his hands and crept down the hall, past the door of his parents’ room, taking a half minute for a step. On the far end of the terrace, he sat down and put on his shoes, his heart pounding and the blood almost suffocating him. He kept whispering, “I’m coming, Flicka—I’m coming—” His feet pattered down the path. He ran as fast as he could. It was so dark under the cotton wood trees, he had to stand a mo ment, getting used to the darkness, before he could be sure that Flicka was not there. There stood her feed box—but the Ally was gone. Unreasoning terror swept over him. Something had spirited her The water rippled over Ken’s legs and over Flicka’s body. away—he would never see her again —Gus had come down—his father— He ran wildly here and there. At last, when there was no sign of her, he began a systematic search all through the pasture. He dared not call aloud, but he whispered— “Flicka — Oh, Flicka — where are you.” At last he found her down the creek lying in the water. Her head had been on the bank, but as she lay there, the current of the stream had sucked and pulled at her, and she had had no strength to resist; and little by little her head had slipped down until when Ken got there only the muzzle was resting on the bank, and the body and legs were swinging in the stream. Ken slid into the water, sitting on the bank, and he hauled at her head. But she was heavy, and the current dragged like a weight; and he be gan to sob because he had no strength to draw her out Then he found a leverage for his heels against some rocks in the bed of the stream, and he braced him self against them, and pulled with all his might; and her head came up onto his knees, and he held it cradled in his arms. He was glad that she had died of her own accord, in the cool water, under the moon, instead of being shot by Gus. Then, putting his face close to hers, and looking searching ly into her eyes, he saw that she was alive and looking back at him. And then he burst out crying, and hugged her, and said, “Oh, my lit tle Flicka, my little Flicka.” The long night passed. The moon slid slowly across the heavens. The water rippled over Ken’s legs, and over Flicka’s body. And gradu ally the heat and th» fever went out of her, and the cool running wa ter washed and washed her wounds. The night took a heavy toll from Ken, but for Flicka there was re surgence. At the moment when Ken drew her into his arms and cried her name, the spring of the down whirling spiral was broken, Flicka was released and not once again did she feel it. The life-currents in her body turned, and In weak and wa vering fashion, flowed upward. A power went into her from Ken; all his youth and strength and mag netism given her freely and abun dantly on the stream of his love— from his ardent eyes to hers. But for Ken, there was, first, the creeping numbness of those p^rts where the head and the neck