HOUSEHOLD
memos...
Put Nutrition in That Lunch Box
(See Recipes Below)
Let's Pack a Lunch
Do you realize as your children
once again begin the trek back to
•ehool with their lunch boxes that
those mid-day meals should carry a
third of the day's calories in them?
Lunches that are a blte-and-run
excuse for a meal will not give chil
dren or workers
nourishment from
which they are to
draw the pep and
energy, vim and
vigor they need
to do their best
| day’s work. Their
loads are heavier
to carry these days than ever before,
and it behooves every homemaker
to be on her toes to put in the box the
very best lunch she can pack.
Packing the lunch need not take
undue time or effort. Assemble the
equipment needed for packing a
lunch at one convenient spot, and
then you can get right to work with
It as soon as you’ve put breakfast
on the table. Keep staples on hand
to simplify the lunch-making prob
lem. This should include such things
•s crackers and cookies, cheese,
milk, eggs, peanut butter, beans,
salmon, sardines, dried fruits, nuts,
|elly, marmalade, pickles and
olives.
Whenever possible prepare a dish
for the family that can be utilized
in the lunch in some way. If you
make a meat or fish loaf, this can
be used as a sandwich filling.
Sandwiches are the mainstay of
the lunch box. However, as they
•re used so of
ten, vary the
bread and fillings
•a much as pos
sible to avoid that
mealtime monot
ony. Cut them in f
sections — they're
more attractive
and easier to eat
thatway. Wrap
to waxed paper
to keep from dry
ing out. Have the fillings moist to
keep them from being unappetizing
and spread the bread with butter,
margarine or mayonnaise to keep it
moist, fresh and tasty.
Sandwich Fillings.
Chopped hard-cooked egg, pickle
or celery, mayonnaise on oatmeal
bread.
Cream cheese, chopped olives on
white or whole wheat bread.
Cream cheese or cottage cheese
with jelly and marmalade with Bos
ton Brown bread.
Peanut butter or ground peanuts
with chopped figs, dates or prunes,
mayonnaise or cream to moisten on
white bread.
Ground dried beef with pickle and
mayonnaise to moisten on rye
bread.
Meat or sardines in thick white
nance on white bread or bun.
Lunch Box Menu
Cream of Tomato Soup
Crackers
Ham Salad on Whole Wheat Bread
Chopped Egg Salad on White
Bread
Carrot Strips
Fresh Apple Cookies
Ground ham and carrots with sour
cream dressing on buttered rye
bread.
Cooked liver or liver sausage,
mashed or ground fine with fried
onion, minced, chill sauce on whole :
wheat, rye or pumpernickel bread.
Ground veal, carrot and celery
moistened with mayonnaise.
Chopped carrots, raisins, and nuts,
moistened with mayonnaise, on
white or oatmeal bread.
Oatmeal Bread.
(Makes 2 large loaves)
2 cups oatmeal, uncooked
Vi cup molasses
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon shortening
1 cup boiling water
1 cup milk
1 cake yeast dissolved In
H cup lukewarm water
5 cups flour
Measure oatmeal, molasses, salt
and shortening into bowl. Add boil
ing water and let stand 1 hour. Beat
in milk, dissolved yeast and flour.
Let rise until doubled in bulk. Knead
well. Turn into greased bread pans,
let rise again until double in bulk.
Bake 15 minutes at 425 degrees,
then 45 minutes at 375 degrees.
Boston Brown Bread
(Makes 2 small loaves)
1 onp graham flour
1 cup rye flour
1 cup cornmeal
1H teaspoons soda
1% teaspoons salt
1 cup sour milk or buttermilk
1 cup water
% oup molasses
1 cup floured raisins
Sift together the dry ingredients.
Add bran remaining in sifter to dry
! ingredients. Combine sour milk, ;
water and molasses. Make a well
in the dry ingredients, pour in liq
uid and mix as quickly as possible.
Add raisins with last few sweeps ol
mixing spoon. Fill greased molds
% full, cover closely and steam for
2 hours.
Milk Drinks.
Vary the lunch box beverage as
often as possible, serving milk, hoi
chocolate or cocoa. For a change |
of menu, try an old favorite which
contains iron—molasses milk drink,
made by mixing 1 quart of milk with
2 or 3 tablespoons molasses and a
dash of nutmeg.
Spiced milk: To 0 cups heated
milk, add ^4 teaspoon cinnamon.
dash of nutmeg
or mace and stir
vigorously. Add
sugar, if desired,
and serve hot or
cold as preferred.
Fruits make
wonderful des- /
serfs and add a j
generous portion
of the day’s vitamin and mineral
health. If an energy-producing des
sert is desired, try a pudding.
Orange Marmalade Bread Podding.
(Serves 6)
1H caps dry bread crumbs
1H cups scalded milk
1H cups sugar
1 tablespoon melted butter
2 eggs, slightly beaten
1 teaspoon vanilla
H cup orange marmalade
% teaspoon nutmeg
Soak bread crumbs in hot milk
When cool, add remaining ingredi
ents in order given. Place in a
buttered baking dish and set in a
pan of hot water. Bake in a mod
erate (350-degree) oven for 45 to 50
minutes, or until knife inserted in
center comes out clean. Serve with
lemon sauce or cream.
Are you having a time stretching
meats? Write to Miss Lynn Chambers
for practical help, at IPeslern Newspa
fter Union, 210 South Desp/aines Street,
Chicago, III. Don’t forget to enclose a
stamped, self-addressed envelope for
your reply.
Released by Western Newspaper Union.
f.-—— —-- -- '
BLACK
SOMBRERO
Ty CLIFFORD KNIGHT .JS5r«
CHAPTER 1
We were agreed, that warm Oc
tober evening as we sat gazing
down from the hills upon the twin
kling lights of Los Angeles, that the
story of Elsa Chatfleld should be
written. Elsa, we thought, typified
something eternal in the spirit of
American youth—something so fas
cinating to us older individuals that
it should be set down as a part of
the permanent record of the Ameri
can scene.
There was a difference of opin
ion, however, as to where the story
should begin. Dwight Nichols was
for omitting all mention of Aunt
Kitty and starting in boldly with
the baby.
"Babies are always good to open
with. New life, you know. Every
thing before them. The world and
the devil. Of course, I’m not a
writer, Barry, as you are; I’m only
a sportsman.’’
Huntoon Rogers has since denied
that he foresaw even the smallest
part of the story which began that
night in the hills overlooking the
vast metropolitan area of Los An
geles and had its end far down the
West Coast of Mexico. And, of
course, Dwight Nichols and I were
merely talking in the air when we
agreed that the story of Elsa Chat
fleld should be written, for the story
then was only about to begin.
"You know, Barry,” Dwight said,
looking off over the vast meadow of
twinkling lights below us, “I
thought once that I understood
women. But that was when I was
younger. I could have done justice
to Elsa then.”
Margaret Nichols at this moment
came out and joined us, sitting on
the top step with her cigarette
which she smoked lazily. It was
one of those rare nights in Cali
fornia when one could sit out of
doors comfortably, and her bare
arms and throat seemed to smolder
whltely in the half light which
shone from the living room win
dows. There was a quality of ex
quisiteness about Margaret that ex
plained Dwight; he had a passion
for the exquisite, and Margaret
loved him devotedly. Margaret now
desired our company.
"I don't like the piano and the
singing. Not now, anyhow,” she
said. "Nobody can sing these hor
rible modern songs, if they really
can be called songs. Did I inter
rupt you, darlings? Forgive me and
go right on talking.”
"We were just talking, dear.
Speculating about woman,” said
Dwight, lighting a fresh cigarette.
"We mentioned Elsa Chatfleld and
then came to rest upon Aunt Kitty.”
“Lovely old cat/’ said Margaret
“Did you know her. Hunt?”
“No, Margaret,” replied Rogers.
"A plump, sleek tabby who sat
a lifetime on silk cushions over in
Pasadena, then at the end sank
her claws in Elsa and died. She
ought to have had a love affair—
and a baby!”
Dwight blew a cloud of ghostly
smoke into the shadows and said
that Elsa’s aunt had been in love
once. Margaret was incredulous.
"You didn’t know Sam Chatfleld
—Elsa’s father—did you, Hunt?”
asked Margaret, turning to Rogers.
Huntoon Rogers said that he had
not. "I was right in thinking that
you came into our circle after Sam
fled. He was a small, round, red
dish man who quite remarkably
had no egotism. Dwight, I think,
is a little taller than Sam. Any
way, he bounced like a rubber ball
when he walked, and he was some
thing in a bank in Pasadena.
“Sam Chatfleld sat behind a huge
mahogany desk all day and said
no. That’s an awfully hard sort of
job, don’t you think?" she said se
riously. “For just imagine men
coming with ambition and hopes, or
in desperate straits about their
finances and needing money, and
having to say no to them. Any de
cent person would feel it dread
fully. And, of course, Sam did. be
cause he was a decent sort, you
know. He simply clutched decency
to himself with all the passion of a
fierce new love. Of course, to make
up for it, Sam had to say yes
when he was away from the bank,
and so he never said no to anything
that concerned Elsa or himself.
Aunt Kitty was beyond his yes and
no, because she was wealthy.
“Then one day he fled, and they
discovered that he’d said yes and
not no to himself too often. Aunt
Kitty quieted the loss at the bank
with her own money, because there
was family pride, you know. But
you can imagine what that meant
to Elsa. Her mother was dead.
Either Elsa didn’t like Mexico, or
Sam thought it best for her to be
up here—she did visit him, though,
I occasionally. Anyway. Elsa had to
! move in with Aunt Kitty and go on
j listening to Aunt Kitty talking, talk
| ing. talking. Poor Elsa! She was
twelve then, and managed in a year
or two to escape to school in the
East. And after that—well, there
was the baby. She was seventeen
by that time."
“But who is there who could pos
sibly want to make away with Aunt
Kitty—if that is what really hap
pened?” I asked, moved somewhat
by what Huntoon Rogers had said
before Margaret came out.
Nobody could think of a reply at
once, then Dwight's chair stirred
and he cleared his throat reluctant
ly
"Well,” he began, "that, of
course, is why there are detectives
—like Hunt Rogers—”
“Not detective, Dwight.” Rogers
interrupted quickly. “I’ll admit that
I’ve been drawn into more than my
share of affairs of that kind. I pre
fer to be known, however, for what
I am—namely, an humble profes
sor of English literature.”
"Sorry, Hunt. I didn’t mean any
thing.”
"No apologies, Dwight; it’s not
important. What were you going
to say, though?”
Again I thought I detected a re
luctance in Dwight Nichols’ manner.
"Oh—I’ve thought at times, since
Kitty Chatfleld's death, what embar
rassment an unimaginative sleuth
could cause me. You see, I have a
motive—”
“A motive, darling?” Margaret’s
voice held a startled note.
"Yes. You see, that Cabazon
property — Kitty Chatfleld and I
owned it in joint tenancy, with right
of survivorship. It doesn’t matter
now how the arrangement came
about. But, when Kitty Chatfleld
“Lovely old cat," said Margaret.
died, it meant about two hundred
thousand dollars to me. Isn't that
a motive?"
"It’s a reasonable one, to be
sure," said Rogers.
"Oh, I had a motive then, too,"
exclaimed Margaret.
“Of course, dear," said Dwight
“What’s mine is yours."
"That’s not what I meant, dar
ling."
"What’s your motive, Margaret?”
inquired Rogers.
“Jealousy.”
"Jealousy!" echoed Dwight “You
don’t mean—?"
"I mean just that." Margaret’s
voice was firm. "I was so jealous
of Kitty Chatfleld I could have killed
her!"
A disturbance from the driveway
interrupted our conversation. We
went around to see what it meant
but before we reached the front of
the house a flivver bleated weakly
as if impatient at our slow coming.
And there was Elsa climbing out of
a most amazing contraption, it
looked as if it had been stolen from
a junk yard. A jagged rent was
in the top, a piece of which waved
grotesquely in the light stir of air.
The engine had died with a hollow
cough as we rounded the corner of
the house, and the villain had
climbed from under the wheel and
was twisting the crank and grunt
ing profanely as if to torture it into
another try at life.
"Pay the gentleman for me," said
Elsa to Dwight. "It’s two dollars
and I haven’t it.” When the man
had gone roaring indecently off
down the hill, she explained: “He
was such an intense man; I rode
with him instead of in the shiny
car the other taxi man had. I like
intense people. It was bumpy, but
there was moonlight, and I didn’t
mind.” She shook me warmly by
the hand, murmured Huntoon Rog
ers’ name when Margaret intro
duced him; and then, with her arms
linked in mine and Dwight’s most
confidingly, we went toward the
house.
"But where's your car. Elsa?”
asked Dwight.
"I sent it this morning to Jimmy
the Cheese.” She stopped short with
a burst of laughter conceived in a
sudden little ecstasy of humor.
“Fancy! I never thought of calling
him that before! And I’ve known
him for years too. To Mr. James
Chesebro, Dwight, trustee,” she said
pompously. Freeing her arms she
drew in the air before her own beau
tiful figure a great stomach and
strutted in the grass.
“He and I are through with each
other now. We don’t have to hate j
each other any longer. We’re both :
glad, of course. Aunt Kitty cuts me
loose today. I’m on my own.” There J
was an exuberance, an elation in
her voice. The fact was thrilling to
her.
Dwight already had explained the
arrangement. There had been no
money she could count on from her
father after he went to Mexico;
Aunt Kitty had assumed her ex
penses. But at her death Elsa had
been disinherited.
“She gave her the income from
the estate for a year from the date
of her death,” Dwight had said,
“knowing that Elsa ought to save
something out of it, but darn well
confident she wouldn’t.”
Sounds of laughter came from the
house as we mounted the steps and
burst in upon the others. I lost,
of course, the soft touch of Elsa’s
hand upon my arm and the comfort
of her nearness to me, for she flew
to embrace one of the girls among
the crowd of young people making
merry in the living room. But not,
however, before she had tossed to
me over her shoulder the urgent
command, “Barry, don’t go away
tonight without me.”
I have no doubt that Jimmy the
Cheese, as Elsa called him that
night, was relieved that the depart
ed Aunt Kitty finally had cut loose
her niece. An old ladies’ home,
even though it were filled top and
bottom with tea-and-toast old ladies,
was a much easier task for a digni
fied administrator, almost middle
aged, than just Elsa. She had sent
him her expensive motor car that
morning, and a letter explaining:
‘‘You’re aware that Aunt Kitty didn’t
expect me to have a cent left today.
So I’m not disappointing her. I
can’t think of keeping anything my
dear aunt’s money has paid for.”
"And I haven’t,” said Elsa from
her chair beside the piano, that eve
ning she joined us at Dwight and
Margaret’s. "Not a penny—or any
thing her money has given me—”
She stopped in vague alarm. She
had not spoken the truth. The proc
ess of her thought was visible in her
face. "Except the clothes on my
back.” Dismay was in her eyes.
"And—” She stood up and tugged
first at her cuffs, then at the shoul
der of her dress. ‘Til not keep
these any longer.”
"Do them all up in a nice package,
Dwight, and send them tomorrow te
Mr. Chesebro, with love from Elsa.
Be sure to put in the love.” She
smiled down upon Dwight as he
gathered the small bundle, one
tawny, beautifully tanned arm point
ing to where the ring had rolled.
"And, Margaret, dear, please get
me one of your old suits for a work
ing girl.”
Margaret arrived instantly with a
heavy apricot negligee and the work
ing girl suit was searched out within
the seclusion of Margaret’s bed
room.
Huntoon Rogers is a large man,
probably six feet tall and with a
frame in proportion. He has mild
blue eyes, such as I have never seen
elsewhere; his ears are prominent,
as is his nose, the latter not to his
disadvantage. The blond hair is be
ginning to thin on top. He looked
up at me after a few moments and
spoke so quietly that nobody else
in the room could hear him.
"She hated her Aunt Kitty, didn’t
she? Bitterly."
“There’s no doubt of it.”
He went on playing. He displayed
a remarkable skill. If I had not
stood watching the dexterity of his
left hand, I’d have thought he was
playing a two-handed composition.
"What did Aunt Kitty die of?” he
asked, glancing up again.
"An overdose of morphine.”
His flying fingers executed a long
run.
"Was she an addict?”
"Yes."
“Self administered?” he inquired,
finishing the piece with a restful
chord.
"The police said yes; the district
attorney’s office, as you are aware,
has doubts.”
“It’s a stone rolled away from the
tomb," said Elsa, full of classical
allusions, her quiet voice devoid,
however, of the theatrical. "It’s
Tantalus fed at last and Sisyphus
at the top of the hill. The dead
hand has let go its terrible grip."
She drew her head back and
breathed immensely of the moonlit
night. “Barry, oh, you can’t imag
ine, even with that trick author’s
imagination of yours, what it means
to be free! Free of Aunt Kitty and
the centuries of ’No’ and ‘Cannot’!
It’s freedom, Barry, when I thought
freedom had forsaken me.”
(TO BE CONTTNtTF.m
ON THE
RUTH WYETfr'SPEARS'
■^O MATTER if you move from
hither to yon or change from
a spacious house to a single room
there are certain treasures that
will mean home to you. A few
books, a piece of china and some
perfectly useless but cheering bits
i SCREW SHELVES AND
/BOX TOGETHER WITH
/ METAL ANGLES
MARK Ji
SCALLOPED^! i*
FRONT ON ^
r PLYWOOD WITH
[PATTERN-THEN CUT
OUT WITH A JI6 SAW
ORA COMPASS SAW
of bric-a-brac—by all means take
them with you and make a
dramatic setting for them.
A shadow box cupboard will do
the trick. The one shown here is
light and substantial; will lend
glamour even to dime store odds
and ends, and may be placed on
top of a table, a chest of drawers
or a desk. No special skill and
almost no tools are needed to
make it.
If you do not have a saw to cut
the scalloped frame, mark it on
plywood and take it to the nearest
woodworking shop to have it cut.
You may have the straight boards
Not This Fellow
Mother (anxiously)—What made
you stay so late? Have a flat tire?
Daughter (dreamily)—No, moth
er, I’d hardly call him that.
*Tm going to change my tailor.
He reads too much,” complained
Pete. “Every time he writes me
he begins—‘On going through my
books—
The Craze
Soldier (finding wasp in soup)—
What’s this?
Cook—Vitamin bee.
That Settles That
Son—What’s an infant prodigy?
Pop—It’s a boy of about your
age, who doesn’t need to ask ques
tions.
On the Chart
Eye Doctor—Can you read the fourth
line on the chart?
Patient—Sure. Why that’s where my
father urns bom.
Milk slops are scarce and
hard to buy. Try Security
Food Slop. No scarcity —
guaranteed. Instead of milk,
let pigs and hogs have Se
curity Food Slop . . . easy
to mix at less than 2c pet
gallon I
Protein* and milk* are
scarce — therefore, you
will need more vitamin*
I and minerals. Add Se
^ curity Food Co your
W own grains — it help*
r to fortify with vita
mins, milk and miner
| al«. For Sale by
SECURITY FOOD CO.
Minneapolis, Minn.
cut at the lumber yard where you
buy them. All you will have to
do is screw them together: tack
on the front frame and paint" or
stain to suit your room color
scheme.
• • •
NOTE—A pattern for tracing the scallop
design for this graceful shadow bo*
frame: complete list of all materials need
ed and illustrated directions for making
and finishing will be sent for 15 cents.
Send your order to:
MRS. RUTH WYETH SPEARS
Bedford Hills New York
Drawer 10
Enclose 15 cents for Scallop Pattern
for Shadow Box Frame.
Name ...
Address ...
Population of India Has
Increased by 50,000,000
The population of India, accord
ing to census figures just issued,
is 388,997,955, an increase nt 50,
878,801 over the 1931 figure. ThB
increase is greater both in num
bers and percentage than in any
decade during the previous 50
years.
Hindus are in the majority with
254,930,506. Moslems number 92,
058,096, and Christians 6,316,549.
Literacy shows a striking increase,
12.2 per cent being literate, com
pared with 6.9 per cent in 1931.
If you were to say the firs* bugle
call of the day in the Army is
“Reveille"—you’d be wrong. It’s
“First Call." But you probably
know what cigarette gets first call
with Army men—it’s Camel. And
Camel is the favorite with men in
all branches of the service—Navy,
Marines, Coast Guard, too. (Based
on actual sales records from serv
ice men’s stores.) And though
there are Post Oflice restrictions
on packages to overseas Army
men, you can still send Camels
to soldiers in the U. S., and to
men in the Navy, Marines, and
Coast Guard wherever they are.
—Adv.
SNAPPY FACTS
ABOUT
RUBBER
There are about 400 kind* off
tree* and vine* In the world
that contain rubber latex, bat
Hevea brasilientis, native off
Brazil, is recognized as the
best for commercial purposes.
Don't keep your car idle too long
with the tires carrying the load.
Drive it a short distance period
ically. This flexes the tires and
wiH prevent deterioration.
The Army is conserving rub
ber. It is estimated that by
1944 crude rubber require
ments per vehicle will be cat
63 per cent as compared to
the amount of rubber needed
by the vehicle at the outbreak
of the war.
BEGoodrich
Ui
Keep Kellogg's Com
# • * flakes handy I They're super good,
* nutritious and easy to serve!
SAVE TIME—WORK—FUEL—OTHER FOODS!
IWloeg’s Com Flikw »re r»- -
stored to WHOLE SHIN HD
TtITIVE VALDES ol ThienHs
(Vittmio BiX Nlscta ssD hWA
CORN
FLAKES
___ 7Ac O^uytuU —
— Mdbr —
•IN n Iflttll Mint 111(1 M«IM
