Stuffed Eggplant Will Keep Your Points Down!
(See Recipes Below)
Harvest Foods
l _
Late summer is the truck garden
er's paradise, and this summer we
might well say
I the Victory gar
' dener's paradise,
for there are
many gay and at
tractive foods rip
ening now which
may make a tru
ly appetizing ap
pearance on your table, r or ex
ample, the season’s choicest toma
toes in their fullest, ripest red make
merry at the table now.
There’s also golden-eared, tender
■weet corn, at its best when picked
not more than half an hour before
eating. And one of the most dra
matic vegetables to do Justice to
fall dinners is the eggplant—smooth,
deep purple and shiny in appear
ance.
Most of you are undoubtedly fa
miliar with eggplant served sliced
and fried—and there's no doubt it’s
good that way. But for a change,
try it baked with a savory stuffing
and make it a main dish feature of
your dinner. The total cooking time
tor preparing it in this new way
is only 35 minutes—10 minutes for
boiling the eggplant in rapidly boil
ing water, and then 25 minutes bak
ing in a moderate oven.
'Stuffed Eggplant.
(Serves 6 to 8)
1 eggplant
1 cup bread croutons
4 strips bacon, cut in squares
1 tablespoon onion, minced
I teaspoon salt
% teaspoon pepper
1 egg
Cook whole eggplant in boiling
water for 10 minutes. Cut length
wise suce irom
top of eggplant.
Remove pulp with
• spoon, leaving
• substantial
shell Chop pulp. <
Add croutons. Fry
bacon. Brown on-1
ton in bacon fat. |
Add to eggplant
pulp. Add the egg and season with
•alt and pepper. Fill eggplant shell
with the mixture and top with the
following:
Corn Flake Crumb Topping,
2 cups corn flakes
1 egg yolk
V4 teaspoon dry mustard
1 teaspoon lemon Juice
% teaspoon salt
Paprika
Butter
Roll corn flakes to fine crumbs,
combine with egg yolk, mustard,
lemon juice and salt. Cover stuffed
eggplant with crumb mixture, dot
(With butter and sprinkle with pap
rika. Bake in a moderate oven (350
degrees) for 25 minutes. Serve on
Lynn Says:
Color la Your Meals: Do you
realize that your eyes eat that
food before you actually eat it
yourself? If food looks dull and
unattractive, your appetite lags
and the food, if eaten is con
sumed without much relish.
The eye wants contrast. Pick
foods that go well together. You
can serve several green vegeta
bles for one meal, but not sev
eral all-white vegetables or all
red.
Combine meat and vegetables
on one platter to get a design and
save plates besides! Use gar
nishes with care and give them
an opportunity to bring out the
most in your foods.
Spripkle beets with a little lem
on juice to make them a more
intense red. Cook green vegeta
bles only until done to assure them
of being crisp, green.
A dash of lemon juice on apples,
pears or other fresh fruit will
prevent It from darkening.
-—■ ...
This Week’s Mena
•Stuffed Eggplant
Head Lettuce Salad with French
Dressing
•Caramel Cinnamon Muffins
Sugared Peaches Beverage
•Recipe Given
a platter with com on the cob and
fresh, sliced tomatoes.
»
English Baked Squash.
(Serves 6)
1 quart peeled, thinly sliced
Hubbard squash
14 teaspoon salt
4 tablespoons sugar
14 cup rich cream
1 teaspoon cinnamon
Place squash in well-greased bak
ing dish. Sprinkle with salt and
sugar. Add cream and sprinkle with
cinnamon. Bake covered in a slow
(325-degree) oven for about 50 min
utes.
Another vegetable comes in for
honors—and very different but deli
cious is this dish, too!
Sour Cream Cabbage.
(Serves 5 to 6)
1 head of cabbage
2 tablespoons butter
1 clove garlic
14 cup sour cream
1 tablespoon vinegar
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 r
Shred the head of cabbage medi
um fine. Heat the butter in skillet
and cook in it slowly the clove of
garlic, minced fine. Add cabbage
and y« cup water. Cover tightly.
Bring to a quick steam, reduce heat
and cook for 10 more minutes. Just
before removing from range, add
sour cream sauce made by mixing
together the sour cream, vinegar,
sugar, salt and egg beaten light.
Pour over cabbage and bring to a
quick boil. Serve at once.
Here’s a spaghetti dish that has a
fall tang to it, and is excellent
served with fried eggplant and apri
cot upside-down cake:
Sausages and Spaghetti.
(Serves 6)
8 link sausages
1 small onion, sliced
1 green pepper, chopped
114 teaspoons salt
14 teaspoon pepper
2 tablespoons (lour
214 cups tomatoes
114 cups spaghetti, cooked
Cut sausages in inch lengths; fry
until golden brown. Add onion and
green pepper and
brown lightly.
Add seasonings
andllour and
blend. Add toma
toes and spaghet
ti. Bake in a
greased baking
dish in moderate
(350-degree) oven 30 minutes.
•Caramel Cinnamon Muffins.
(Makes 1H dosen 2-inch muffins)
2 cups sifted flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon salt
1 egg
2 tablespoons light corn syrup
or honey
1 cup milk
2 tablespoons melted shortening
Sift together flour, baking powder,
cinnamon and salt. Beat egg, add
syrup, milk and shortening. Blend
thoroughly and add to flour mixture.
Stir only until flour is moistened.
Bake in a moderately hot oven (425
degrees) 20 minutes. Prepare muf
fin pans as follows for these muf
fins: Into each muffin cup, put %
teaspoon butter or margarine and
1 teaspoon com syrup. Fill with
batter % of an inch full.
Are you having a lime stretching
meats? If'rite to Miss Lynn Chambers
for practical help, at If'estern Newspa
per Union, 210 South Uesplaines Street,
Chicago, 111. Don’t forget to enclose a
stamped, self-addressed envelope for
your reply,
I Release* hr Western Newspaper Union.
MY' FRIEND ?iJ
LI KA
MARY O’HARA
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 filly of a ’Toco"
mare. His father, a retired army offi
cer, Is disappointed by Ken’s choice and
by his failure at school. When Flicka,
the Ally, is badly hurt trying to Jump the
corral fence, Ken takes the opportunity
to make friends with the wild little colt.
But Flicka grows steadily worse, and
Captain McLaughlin orders Gus, the fore
man, to shoot her. Ken goes out to the
pasture when the others are asleep and
Ands Flicka trapped in a stream but
alive. He wades into the stream and
holds her head out of the water.
Now continue with the story.
CHAPTER XVIII
Gus stood up, slowly, the gun in
his hand, and stood there, hesitating.
He had received his orders. He
was to shoot Flicka some time soon,
when Ken was not around. There
would never be a better moment.
A minute or so passed, while the
Swede stood looking down at the Ally
and pondering the situation. Then,
straightening up, he put the Win
chester in the crook of his left arm,
raised his eyes to scan the sky and
read the weather signs, and his
hands automatically fumbled in his
clothing for his pipe, tobacco, and
matches. A few puffs of his pipe
would help him to think this out.
That the Ally might actually recov
er was hardly likely. He wondered
how long Ken had been holding her
—there was no telling—they were
all familiar with Ken’s habits—he
might have been there since dawn.
He found that his mind had made
itself up while he stood there smak
ing. He would not shoot Flicka just
yet. Perhaps, by the time Ken had
had his breakfast and got warmed
up, he might have something to say
that would change his father’s mind.
The man walked back up the little
path, and on to the bunk house.
Ken’s condition had been growing
steadily worse. In spite of the hot
blankets, chills shook him every few
minutes until his teeth chattered.
His temperature was 103 when Nell
put him to bed. By noon it was 104.
Much of the time he slept, or, at
least, thought Nell as she sat be
side the bed, holding one of his thin,
helpless-feeling hands in both of
hers, he was in some sort of un
consciousness.
She wondered if the filly was alive
or dead. And then came a deeper
wonder, at the way the lives of the
two, boy and filly, seemed inter
twined.
The day grew darker and more
gloomy. Once, there was a sudden
sound like the soft rolling of a
corps of drums—a mere whisper.
Nell went to the window and saw
that it was rain. It rolled to a
crescendo, then died away in a mur
mur—not a minute in all. The sky
was massed with low clouds.
The cure of a patient by a doctor
is supposed to begin, they say, when
the doctor sets his foot in the house.
When Nell heard the men’s voices
below and their steps on the stairs,
she experienced an emotion that
shook her so strongly that all her
hardihood left her, and she covered
her face with her hands for a mo
ment. Then she lifted her head and
went to-the door to greet them.
Ken was tossing and muttering.
He did not know the doctor.
As Dr. Scott made the examina
tion he was told what had happened.
That Ken's filly was ill—dying—and
that Ken had gone down to her late
the night before and had, apparent
ly, been in the water most of the
night, holding the horse in his arms.
"His school opens Monday—day
after tomorrow,” said Rob, ending
on a question.
The doctor shook his head, said,
"Not a chance,” and put the covers
back, parting the jacket of Ken’s
pajamas, and loosening the tie of
the trousers, baring the narrow
brown body, laying his Angers on it,
tapping them.
“Perhaps by the end of the
week?” asked Rob.
“Not likely,” said Scott cheerful
ly. "Sometimes children surprise
you; blow up something like this and
then get right over it. But his fever
is 104. He's got something—I don’t
know what yet.”
For a few minutes there was si
lence.
The room was getting quite dark.
Suddenly it was brightly lit by a
shimmering of sheet lightning, and
the doctor glanced at th? window
and said. “Gonna have some weath
er."
In the darkness that followed the
lightning came a rush and a roar
of wind that sucked through the
Gorge, bent every tree on the Hill
and slammed the kitchen door.
Nell lit the kerosene lamp and
the doctor stood up and looked down
at Ken. The boy’s eyes were closed
now. and he lay motionless, draw
ing rapid breaths through dry part
ed lips.
“He’s a very sick boy," said Scott.
“What is this? I saw Ken early last
spring. What’s happened to him
this summer? I wouldn’t know him
for the same boy—it’s not only this
; cold and fever—”
j Nell and Rob looked at each other.
; It was not an easy question, there
was so much to tell.
They went downstairs with the
doctor and Rob said, “It’s this horse
that he's been breaking his heart
•bout.”
The doctor was puzzled. "Has he
b««n sick before this?”
“Not sick exactly,” said Nell, “but
on an awful strain, because she’s
been sick.”
Scott could see that Nell was anx
ious to get back to Ken. He put
on his things. “I won’t keep you.
Mother” (he called all women Moth
er). “You want to get back to him.
Rob, he’s got to have some medi
cine right away.”
“I’ll follow you in to town." said
Rob, "and bring it back.” He
reached for Nell, took her in his
arms and hugged and kissed her.
“Now don’t worry <so, darling, the
kid’ll be all right.”
“Of course,” snid NelL "I’ll go
back to him.”
The doctor gave her some final
instructions for Ken’s care and went
out with Rob.
Gus had gone about his work all
day, thinking of Flicka. He had
not been back to look at her. He had
been given no more orders. If she
was alive, the order to shoot her
was still in effect. But Kennie was
ill, McLaughlin making his second
trip to town to buy medicines, and
would not be back till long after
dark. He did not know just what to
do.
After Tim and Gus had their
supper in the bunk house, they
walked down to the creek. They
He might have been there since
dawn.
did not speak as they approached
the filly, lying stretched out flat on
the grassy bank, just as Gus had
left her; but their eyes were strain
ing at her to see if she was dead or
alive.
She raised her head as they
reached her.
“By the Powers!” exclaimed
Tim. “There she is!”
She dropped her head, raised it
again, and moved her legs and be
came tense as if struggling to rise.
The men cheered her on. She rolled
over on her belly, reached out her
forefeet and scrambled halfway up.
“Yee whiz!" said Gus. “She got
plenty strent yet.”
“Hi!” cheered Tim. “She’s up!”
But Flicka wavered, slid down
again and lay fiat. This time she
gave notice that she would not try
again by heaving a deep sigh and
closing her eyes.
Gus took his pipe out of his mouth
and thought it over. Orders or no
orders, he would try to save the
filly. Ken had gone too far to be
let down.
“Ay’m goin to rig a blanket sling
fur her, Tim, and get her on her
feet and keep her up. If she’s got
a chance, that'll help. If she ain’t
it’ll do no harm anyway.”
While they were getting the tools,
the post-hole digger and shovel,
crowbar, ropes, and blanket, the
downpour of rain came again. This
time it was persistent The two men
went to the bunk house, put on their
oilskins, and brought a couple of
lanterns with them when they car
ried the stuff down to the creek.
Flicka was just as they had left
her.
“She’s sure goin to get another
drenching,” said Tim.
“Won’t hurt her," said the Swede.
“She bin out in tunderstorms since
she bin born.”
It took them an hour to rig the
sling. They struck rocks in their
digging which had to be pried out.
Flicka was lying on a piece of level
sward, only a little higher than the
level of the creek. To the far side,
the ground rose sharply behind her,
in a steep hill which, on part of its
surface, was a sheer slide of rock—
another of the rock-slides which
were characteristic of the terrain
of the ranch.
The men set two tall and sturdy
aspen poles deep into the ground on
each side of the filly, then rolled
her onto the folded blanket. The
ends of the blanket were gathered
and the rope tied on to them in a
knot which, the more weight was on
it, the tighter it was drawn. The
tops of the posts were notched, and
a crowbar laid across them. The
end of each rope was passed through
a hole bored through the post a
few inches below the notch; and
when everything was ready, Gus
said, "Altogether, now—” They each
pulled on their rope, and the blanket
and Ally rose off the earth together.
When she had reached a height
where her feet just lightly touched
the earth, they let be, and fastened
the ends of the ropes to the crowbar.
So she hung—not in the least dis
concerted, and when Tim brought
her a bucket of water, put her nose
in it and drank.
While the two men were carrying
the tools back to the tool house, the
heavens let loose.
"We’re in for it now," said Tim.
"I didn’t think it could last much
longer.”
"I’m glad ve got de tarps
stretched over dem stacks,” said
Gus. "De hay’s not packed hard.”
When they reached the ranch
house, he handed Tim the tools he
was carrying. "I’m gonna stop here,
Tim, and see if de Missus need any
ting—an An’ out how de little feller
is—”
Tim went on without him, and
Gus went into the kitchen, where
the oil lamp was hung on the wall
beside the stove, and removed his
slicker.
Nell heard him stamping about
and hurried downstairs.
"Is that you, Gus?”
"Ja, Missus — how is de little
boy?”
“Oh, Gus, we don’t know yet—he
seems pretty sick.” Nell’s face was
worn and anxious. Standing there,
belted in her narrow gray flannel
wrapper, she looked slim and child
ish. Her hair was loose on her shoul
ders, and she put up a hand and
pushed it back with a weary ges
ture. "Gus—is Flicka dead?"
"No’m. Tim and I, we just got
tru fixin her up in a blanket sling.
She can’t stand alone; but dere’s
life in her, and she reached for de
bucket of vater and drank it down
like a good von.”
Nell’s eyes sank to the floor, and
she stood a moment in thought tap
ping her foot. "You didn’t shoot
her,” she said, just thinking out
loud. “Gus, did he—did Captain
McLaughlin say you didn’t have to
shoot her?”
"No’m, he told me last night to
And a time when Ken wasn’t around
and shoot her. But ven I found ’em
like dat dis mornin’—I—I—”
“I know,” said Nell quickly. "I
know what you mean. Well—I’ll tell
Ken. Maybe it’ll help him—it’ll
make him so happy that she’s still
alive. Gus, now you’re here, I want
you to set up a cot for me in Ken's
room, so I can sleep there and take
care of him. It’s down in the cellar
—you’ll have to bring it up.”
“I know vere it is, ma’m,” said
Gus soothingly. “Now you go up to
de little boy, and I’ll bring de cot
up and set it up for you.”
Nell ran upstairs, and found Ken’s
eyes wide open. He moved every
few seconds, turning from one side
to the other. His breath was shal
low, often with long pauses between.
She sat on the edge of the bed,
bent over him and smiled into his
eyes with deep, penetrating love.
The faintest smile appeared on his
lips in answer. She smoothed the
hair back from his forehead, then
took one of his hands in both of hers
and said, "Kennie—did you know
that Flicka seems a little better?
Gus has fixed a blanket sling for
her, and they’ve got her up in it,
and she drank some water when
they held the bucket for her.”
The boy’s face changed as if a
light had broken over it, and his
lips moved, but no words came.
“Maybe — just maybe, darling—
she’ll live after all. We’ll do the
best we can—but you mustn’t hope
too hard.”
Ken was trying to move his lips
again. At last she heard the words,
"But—Dad—gave—the—order—”
At that moment Gus entered the
room carrying the cot Then he
brought the mattress; and as they
set it up, Ken’s eyes followed their
movements.
Gus tip-toed to the side of his
bed and looked down at him.
“De filly’s up, Kennie—now you
be good boy an' soon you be up
too—”
“Gus—”
”Ja?”
“Did Dad tell you you didn’t need
to shoot her?”
“No, Kennie, but I ain’t done it
yet—und maybe he change his
mind—”
Kennie’s face changed. He closed
his eyes and a look of dread and
pain Was upon his lips.
Gus tip-toed out of the room, and
presently Nell heard a whisper from
the bed. “Mother?”
“Yes, darling.”
“Where’s Dad now?”
“He went to town, dear, to get
some medicines the doctor ordered
for you.”
Ken said nothing more. He seemed
to be sleeping, and Nell went quietly
about the business of making up
the cot for the night.
Presently he spoke again. “Will
he be back soon?”
“Any time now, dear, I think.”
Ken lay with eyes closed, but Nell,
every time she looked at him, real
ized that he was tense, listening for
the sound of the Studebaker roaring
up the hill.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
A RESTLESS corporal handed out
lately the toughest quiz we have
stumbled over in some time.
“Can you tell me,” he wrote, "just
how ‘sport’ got its beginning—just
Jack Dempsey
how it happened to
start?"
We had never
thought much about
this before. To be
certain we called
upon a famed histo
rian who had the
right answer.
"You would never
guess it,” he said.
"Many people be
lieve that sport drew
its beginning fox the
sake of physical de
velopment, or as part of war train
ing. This isn’t true. Sport came
directly from religion.
"In the pre-dawn age of man cer
tain forms of spiritual exercises
came along. These were accompan
ied by certain phases where masses
of people swayed, stamped and
jumped to give vent to their emo
tions.
"It was from these demonstra
tions that sport began, where run
ning, jumping, wrestling and box
ing were undoubtedly on the pri
mordial list. Religious pageants
were soon blended with sporting con
tests in the worship of early gods.”
What ‘Athlete Means
"How many know,’ ’ our expert
continued, "just what ‘athlete’ first
meant?
“It indicated training and compe
tition in preparation for war. Early
Greeks were smart enough to dis
cover that good boxers, wrestlers,
runners and jumpers made the best
soldiers. Sport gave them an edge
in speed, stamina, quickness, and
all reflexes needed for action.
“Hitler used the Greek idea in get
ting ready for this war.
"He began training not a few
thousands, but actually millions of
boys and young men over ten years
ago. Up to 1936, Germany had al
ways been the biggest Olympic flop,
winning practically nothing. But
seven years ago that country had
one of the strongest all-around
Olympic teams ever sent into com
petition. And in addition to the
team itself, there were several mil
lion others who had come into far
better physical shape for the game
of war.”
I happened to be at the 1936 Olym
pic sht . in Berlin. Before this time
Germany had gone in largely for
mass calisthenics.
But some time before that year
the Germans largely discarded cal
isthenic drills for competitive sport
—soccer, football, rowing, boxing,
running, jumping and hard riding,
where not just a few stars were fea
tured, but the vast majority of those
athletes between 12 and 21 were sent
into hard training.
It was this, plus her hard me
chanical strength, that gave Ger
many her terrific army in 1941.
A Lesson to Follow
This is a lesson the United States
can use—sport, competitive athlet
ic exercises for the millions in place
of the few.
We need a far greater all-around
development of those youngsters
ranging from 12 to 20, where mil
lions today get little chance to play
developing games.
As Jack Dempsey told me at his
coast guard headquarters, "Of the
3,000 men I am trying to help train,
less than a thousand have played
any games, boxed, wrestled, or in
dulged in football or baseball. Nat
urally, they are clumsy, awkward,
slow, and lacking in confidence at
the start.
"You should see the difference
just a few weeks means when they
find out that a punch on the chin or
a head-hold doesn’t kill them, also
when they learn to throw a few
punches on their own. It never oc
curred to me before what a big part
of our young population never had
a chance to get physically and men
tally equipped for contest games.”
Some one in authority should go
to work along these lines.
Both army and navy could stand
more competitive sport than they
are getting today.
Certainly the kids from 12 or 13
up to 18 can. This is one of the
reasons why navy’s decision to keep
football going was a fine thing for
both navy and the country at large.
Secretary Stimson has forbidden
men in the army colleges to engage
in any intermural sport.
We still believe the army made a
serious mistake in stopping football
—in spite of the fact that over 90
per cent of its higher officers were
strongly in favor of navy’s plan.
The Impossible Spot
There are any number of impos
sible spots in racing, but I can give
you the top one—"Don’t buy or own
a race horse.”
This reflection came to me while
discussing the big yearling sale that
was held at Keeneland in Lexing
ton, Ky., a few weeks ago.
There are two good reasons:
One is that the odds are 80 to 1
you’ll never make a quarter, but
will be likely to lose important cash.
The second is that you will soon
be losing your friends.
COME of your garden favorites
^ framing your initial will bring
decoration and color to your lin
ens. A pair of pillow cases or
guest towels done this colorful way
would make an ideal shower gift!
It’s all simplest stitchery.
• • •
Pattern 7573 contains a transfer pattern
of six 4 by 5 inch frames and two 1%
Inch alphabets; stitches; materials needed.
Due to an unusually large demand and
current war conditions, slightly more time
is required in filling orders for a few of
the most popular pattern numbers.
Send your order to:
Sewing Circle Needlerraft Dept.
564 W. Randolph St. Chicago 80 ID.
Enclose 15 cents (plus one cent to
cover cost of mailing) for Pattern
No.
Name..
Address.
Churchill Window
The parish church at Cransley,
Northamptonshire, England, has a
stained-glass window containing a
portrait of Winston Churchill,
which is believed to be the only
church window that shows a man
smoking a cigar. ,
CLASSIFIED
DEPARTMENT
Want Feathers, Horse Hair
We’ll pay $1.25 for fine goose feathers; $1
for duck feathers; used feathers, up to 60c.
Tail hair 65c; mane 20c. All quotations
per lb. Farmers Store, Mitchell, s. D.
GUERNSEY HEIFERS
HIGH-GRADE GUERNSEY HEIFERS,
yearlings ready to breed, and heavy
springers coming twos. •
FRED CHANDLER. CHARITON, IOWA.
FEATHERS WANTED '
rriTlimpoto or NEW—wanted.Top
rpA I HrKV’ri'-™ 41 Years Satisfactory
I Lm III Lllw I>eallug Ship Exprut or Writ*
PILLOW MFC. CO, 2219 Colo Street. SL Lows, Mo.
Earth Slowing Up
The earth is gradually slowing
in its rotation, with a consequent
lengthening of our day amounting
to about one-thousandth pf a sec
ond per century.
JOIN the C.B.C./
(Cutlian Borob Corps)
—— -»uV
VkM ftafe) Mar Savings Bonds fcS1«aft \