Nebraska Newspapers

    * * The Mystery of a Silent love
AUTHOR of* "m CLOSED 30OK," ETC
ILLUSTRATIONS ^C-D-RHODES
tOPrRKffT or THE SMART SET PUOLISMRC CO
W ITT m W <T
CHAPTER XV—Continued.
—15—
“Quite likely,” lie answered. ‘‘But
• ur first object must be to rediscover
Muriel, Would it not be best to send
an urgent wire to the address where I
always write? She would then reply
here, no doubt. I've told you practi
cally everything, my dear old fellow.
The facts of the affair can be made
known only by Muriel. I tell you, we
must find her.”
‘‘Yes. we must—at all hazards,” £
said. "Let's go across to the tele
graph office opposite Charing Cross.
It’s open always.” And we rose and
walked out along the Strand, now
nearly deserted, and dispatched an
argent message to Muriel at an ad
dress in Hurlingham road. Fulham.
Afterwards we stood outside on the
curb, still talking, I loath to part from
him, when there passed by in the
shadow two men in dark overcoats,
who crossed the road behind us to
the front of Charing Cross station,
and then continued on towards Trafal
gar square.
As the light of the street lamp fell
upon them I thought I recognized the
face of one as that of a person I had
seen before, yet I was not at all cer
tain, and my failure to remember
whom the passer-by resembled pre
vented me from saying anything fur
ther to Jack than:
“A fellow I know has just gone by.
I think.”
“We seem to be meeting hosts of
friends tonight," he laughed. "After
all, old chap, it does one good to come
back to our dear, dirty old town again.
We abuse it when we are here, and
talk of the life in Paris and Vienna
and Brussels, but when we are away
there is no place on earth so dear to
as, for it Is 'home.' But there!” he
laughed. “I'm actually growing roman
tic. Ah! if we could only find Muriel!
But we must tomorrow. Ta-ta! I
shall go around to the club and sleep,
for I haven’t fixed on any diggings
yet. Come in at ten tomorrow, and
we will decide upon some plan. One
thing is plainly certain—Elma must
at once be got out of Russia. She's
certainly in deadly peril of her life
there.”
“Yes,” I said. “And you will help ;
me?”
“With all my heart, old fellow,” an- j
swered my friend, warmly grasping
my hand, and then we parted, he
strolling along towards the National
Gallery on his way back to the "Jun- [
lor,” while I returned to the Cecil
•lone.
• ***•«*
“Captain Durnford?” I inquired of
the hall porter of the club next morn
ing.
"Not here, sir.”
“But he slept here last night,” I
remarked. “1 have an appointment
with him.”
The man consulted the big book be
fore him. and answered:
"Captain Durnford went out at 9:27
last night, sir, but has not returned.”
Strange, I thought, but although 1
waited in the club nearly an hour, he
did not put in an appearance.
About four o'clock, as I was passing
through the big hall of the hotel, I
heard a voice behind me utter a greet
ing in Italian, and. turning in sur
prise, found Olinto, dressed in his best
suit of black, standing hat in hand.
In an instant I recollected what
Jack had told me, and regarded him
with some suspicion.
"Signor Commendatore,” he said in
a low voice, as though fearing to be
overheard, “may I be permitted to
speak in private with you?”
"Certainly,” I said, and I took him
In a lift up to my room.
"f have come to warn you, signore,”
he said, when I had given him a seat
"Your enemies mean harm to you.”
“Look here, Olinto!” I exclaimed
determinedly, “I've had enough of this
confounded mystery. Tell me the
truth regarding the assassination of
your poor wife up in Scotland.”
"Ah. signore!" he answered sadly
.n a changed voice, “I do not know.
It was a plot. Someone represented
me—but he was killed also. They be
lieved they had struck me down,” he
added, with a bitter laugh. “Poor Ar
mida's body was found concealed be
hind a rock on the opposite side of
the wood. I saw it—ah!” he cried
•huddering.
The police had. it seemed, suc
ceeded in discovering the unfortunate
woman after all, and had found that
she was his wife.
“You know a man named Leith
court?" I asked a few minutes later.
"Now, tell the truth. In this affair,
Olinto, our interests are mutual, are
they not?”
He nodded, after a moment’s hesita
tion.
"And you know also a man named
Archer—who is sometimes known as
Hornby, or Woodroffe—as well as a
friend of his called Chater.”
“Si, signore,” he said. “I have met
them all—to my regret.”
"And have you ever met a Rus
sian—a certain Baron Oberg—and his
niece, Elma Heath?”
“His niece? She isn’t his niece.”
“Then who is she?” I demanded.
"How do I know? I have seen her
once or twice. But she’s dead, isn't
she? She knew the secret of those
men. and they intended to kill her.
I tried to prevent them taking her
away on the yacht, and I would have
gone to the police—only I dare not
because my own hands were not quite
clean. I knew they intended to silence
her, but I was powerless to save her,
poor young lady. They took her on
board Leithcourt’s yacht, the Iris, and
they sailed for the Mediterranean, I
believe.”
“And what was your connection
with them?”
“Well, I was Leithcourt’s servant.”
was his reply. “I was steward on the
Iris for a year, until I suppose they
thought that I began to see too much,
and then I was placed in a position
ashore.”
"And what did you see?”
"More than I care to tell, signore.
If they were arrested I should be
arrested, too, you see.”
“But 1 mean to solve the mystery,
Olinto,” I said fiercely, for I was in
no trifling mood. “I’ll fathom it if
ft costs me my life.”
“If the signor solves it, then I can
not be charged with revealing the
truth,” was the man's diplomatic reply.
“But I fear they are far too wary.”
“Armida has lost her life. Surely
that is sufficient incentive for you to
bring them all to justice?”
“Of course. But if the law falls
upon them, it will also fall upon me.”
I explained the terrible affliction to
which my love had been subjected by
those heartless brutes, whereupon he
cried enthusiastically: “Then she is
not dead! She can tell us every
thing!”
cur cannot you ten us/
"But what is the use, if we have no
clear proof?” was his evasive reply
1 could see plainly that he feared be
ing implicated in some extraordinary
plot, the exact nature of which he so
steadfastly refused to reveal to me.
We talked on for half an hour, and
from his conversation I gathered that
he was well acquainted with Elma.
“Ah, signore, she was such a pleas
ant and kind-hearted young lady. I
always felt very sorry for her. She
was in deadly fear of them.”
"But why did they induce you to
entice me to that house in Lambeth?
Why did they so evidently desire that
I should be killed?”
“By accident,” he interrupted, cor
recting me. “Always by accident,”
and he smiled grimly.
"Surely you know their secret mo
tive?” I remarked.
At the time I did not,” he declared.
“I acted on their instructions, being
compelled to. for they hold my future
in their hands. Therefore I could not
disobey. You knew too much, there
fore you were marked down for death
—just as you are now.”
And who is it who is nowr seeking
my life?" I inquired gravely. “I only re
turned from Russia yesterday.”
“Your movements are well known,”
answered the young Italian. “You can
not be too careful. Woodroffe has
been in Russia with you, has he not?
And Chater is in London.”
“And the Leithcourts?”
He shrugged his shoulders with a
gesture of ignorance, adding, “The
Signorina Muriel returned to London
from Eastbourne this morning.”
“Where can I find her?” I inquired
eagerly'. ‘It is of the utmost impor
tance that I should see her.”
“She is with a relation, a cousin. I
think, at Bassett road, Notting Hill.
The house is called ‘Holmwood.’ ”
Then, after a pause, he added, with
a strange, earnest look in his dark
eyes, “Pardon me. Signor Commenda
tore, if I presume to suggest some
thing, will you not?”
“Certainly. What do you suggest?”
“That you should remain here, in
this hotel, and not venture out.”
“For fear of something unfortunate
happening to me!" I laughed. “I’m
really not afraid, Olinto,” I added.
“You know I carry this,” and I drew
out my revolver from my hip pocket.
“But, signore, have a care for your
self,” cried the Italian, laying his hand
upon my arm. “You are a marked
man. Ah! do I not know,” he ex
claimed breathlessly. “If you go out
you may run right into—well, the fatal
accident.”
“Never fear, Olinto,” I replied re
assuringly. “I shall keep my eyes
wide open. Here, in London, one’s life
is safer than anywhere else in the
world, perhaps—certainly safer than
in souje places I could name in your
own country, eh?" at which he
grinned.
The next moment he grew serious
again, and said:
“I only warn the signore that if he
goes out it is at his own peril.”
“Then let it be so,” I laughed, feel
ing self-confident that no one could
lead me into a trap. I was neither a
foreigner nor a country cousin. I knew
London too well. He was silent and
shook his head; then, after telling me
that he was still at the same restau
rant in Westbourne Grove, he took hia
departure, warning me once more not
to go forth.
Half an hour later, disregarding his
words, I strode out into the Strand,
and again walked round to the “Jun
ior.” The short, wintry day had ended,
the gas lamps were lit and the dark
ness of night was gradually creeping
on.
Jack had not been to the club, and I
began now to grow thoroughly uneasy.
He had parted from me at the corner
of the Strand with only a five minutes’
walk before him, and yet he had ap
parently disappeared. My first impulse
was to drive to Notting Hill to inquire
of Muriel if she had news of him, but
somehow the Italian's warning words
made me wonder if he had met with
foul play.
i suauemy reconeciea mose iwo
men who had passed by as we had
talked, and how that the features of
one had seemed strangely familiar.
Therefore I took a cab to the police
station down at Whitehall and made
inquiry of tne inspector on duty in
the big, bare office with its flaring
gas jets in wire globes. He heard me
to the end, then turning back the book
of “occurrences” before him, glanced
through the ruled entries.
"I should think this is the gentle
man. sir,” he said. And he read to
me the entry as follows:
P. G. 462A reports that at 2:07 a. m..
while on duty outside the National Gal
lery, he heard a revolver shot, followed
by a man’s cry. He ran to the corner of
Suffolk street, where he found a gentle
man lying upon the pavement suffering
from a serious shot-wound in the chest
and quite unconsrious. He obtained the
assistance of P. C.’s 218A and 343A, and
the gentleman, who was not identified,
was taken to the Charing Cross hospital,
where the house surgeon expressed a
doubt whether he could live. Neither P.
C.'s recollect having noticed any suspi
cious-looking person In the vicinity.
JOHN PERVICAL, Inspector.
I waited for no more, but rushed
round to the hospital in the cab, and
was, five minutes later, taken along
the ward, w here I identified poor Jack
lying in bed, white-faced and uncon
scious.
"The doctor was here a quarter of
an hour ago,” whispered the sister.
“And he fears he is sinking.”
“He has uttered no words?” I asked
anxiously. “Made no statement?”
“None. He has never regained con
sciousness, and I fear, sir. he never
will. It is a case of deliberate murder,
the police told me early this morning.”
I clenched my fists and swore a
fierce revenge for that dastardly act.
And as I stood beside the narrow bed,
1 realized that what Olinto had said
regarding my own peril was the actual
truth. I was a marked man. Was I
never to penetrate that inscrutable
and ever-increasing mystery?
CHAPTER XVI.
The Truth About the Lola.
Throughout the long night I called
many times at the hospital, but the
reply was always the same. Jack had
not regained consciousness, and the
doctor regarded his case as hopeless.
In the morning I drove in hot haste
to Bassett road, Notting Hill, and at
the address Olinto had given me found
Muriel. When she entered the room
with folding doors into which 1 had
been shown, I saw that she was pale
and apprehensive, for we had not met
since her flight, and she was, no doubt,
at a loss for an explanation. But I did
not press her for one. I merely told
her that the Italian Santini had given
me her address and that I came as
bearer of unfortunate news.
“What is it?” she gasped quickly.
“It concerns Captain Durnford,” I
replied. “He has been injured in the
street, and is in Charing Cross hospi
tal.”
“Ah!” she cried. “I see. You do
not explain the truth. By your face
I can tell there is something more.
He’s dead! Tell me the worst.”
“No, Miss Leithcourt.” I said gravely,
“not dead, but the doctors fear that
he may not recover. His wound is
dangerous. He has been shot by some
unknown person.”
“Shot!” she echoed, bursting into
tears. “Then they have followed him.
after all!' They have deceived me, and
now, as they intend to take him from
me, I will myself protect him. You,
Mr. Gregg, have been in peril of your
life, that I know, but Jack's enemies
are yours, and they shall not go un
punished. May I see him?”
“I fear not, but we will ask at the
hospital.” And after the exchange of
some further explanations we took a
hansom back to Charing Cross.
At first the sister refused to allow
Muriel to see the patient, but she im
plored so earnestly that at last she
consented, and the distressed girl in
the black coat and hat crept on tip
toe to the bedside.
“He was conscious for a quarter of
an hour or so,” whispered the nurse
who sat‘ there, “He asked after some
lady named Muriel.”
The girl at my side burst into low
sobbing.
“Tell him,” she said, “that Muriel
is here—that she has seen him, and
Is waiting for him to recover.”
Day succeeded day, and although I
was not allowed to visit my friend, I
was told that he was very slowly pro
gressing. 1 idled at the Hotel Cecil,
longing daily for news of Elma. Only
once did a letter come from her, a
brief, well-written note, from which it
appeared that she was quite well and
happy, although she longed to be able
to go out. The princess was very kind
indeed to her, and, she added, was
making secret arrangements for her
escape across the Russian frontier
into Germany.
I saw Muriel many times, but never
once did she refer to Rannoch or their
sudden departure. Her only thought
was of the man she loved.
One afternoon, ten days after the
attempt upon Jack, I was allowed to
sit by his bedside and question him.
“Ah, Gordon, old fellow!” he said
faintly, “I've had a narrow escape—by
“Ah, Gordon, Old Fellow, We Had a
Narrow Escape.”
Jove! After I left you I walked quick
ly on towards the club, when, all of
a sudden, two scoundrels sprang out
of Suffolk street, and one of them fired
a revolver full at me. Then I knew
no more.”
“But who were the men? Did you
recognize them?”
“No, not at all. That’s the worst
of it.”
“But Muriel knows who they were!”
I said.
“Ah, yes! Bring her here, won’t
you?” the poor fellow implored, “I’m
dying to see her once again.”
Then I told him how she had looked
upon him while unconscious, and how
I had taken the daily bulletin to her.
For an hour I talked with him, urging
him to get well soon, so that we could
unite in probing the mystery, and
bringing to justice those responsible
for the dastardly act.
“Muriel knows, and1 if she loves you
she will no doubt assist us," I said.
“Oh, she does love me, Gordon, I
know that,” said the prostrate man,
smiling contentedly, and when I left
I promised to bring her there on the
■morrow.
This I did, but having conducted her
to the bed at the end of the ward 1 dis
creetly withdrew. "What she said to
him I am not, of course, aware. All 1
know is that an hour later when I re
turned I found them the happiest pair
possible to conceive, and I clearly saw
that Jack’s trust In her was not ill
placed.
But of Elma? No further word had
come from her, and I began to grow
uneasy. The days went on. I wrote
twice, but no reply was forthcoming.
At last I could bear the suspense no
longer, and began to contemplate re
turning to Russia.
December came, and we still rej
mained on at the hotel. Once Olinto
had written me repeating his warning,
bi^t I did not heed it. i sometiuw dis
trusted the fellow.
Jack, now thoroughly recovered,
called almost daily at Bassett road,
and would often bring Muriel to the
Cecil to tea or to luncheon. Often 1
inquired the whereabouts of her father
and of Hylton Chater, but she declared
herself in entire ignorance, and be
lieved they were abroad.
One afternoon, shortly before Christ
mas, as we were idling in the Ameri
can bar of the hotel, my friend told
me that Muriel had invited us to tea
at her cousin’s that afternoon, and ac
cordingly we went there in company.
As we sat together Muriel, a smart
figure in pale blue gown, poured tea
for us and chatted more merrily, I
thought, than ever before. She seemed
quick and nervous and yet full of hap
piness, as she should indeed have
been, for .Tack Durnford was one ot
the best fellows in the world, and his
restoration to health little short of
miraculous.
“Gordon," he said to me with a
sudden seriousness when tea had end
ed and we had placed down our cups.
“I want to tell you something—some
thing I’ve been longing always to tell
you, and now I have got dear Muriel’s
consent. I want to tell you about her
father and his friends."
“And about Glma, too?” I said in
quick eagerness. “Yes, tell me every
thing.”
"No, not everything, for I don't
know it myself. But what I know I
will explain as briefly as I can, and
leave you to form your own conclu
sions. It is,” he went one, "a strange
—most amazing story. When I myself
became first cognizant of the mystery
I was on board the flagship the Re
nown, under Admiral Sir John Fisher.
We were lying in Malta when there
arrived the English yacht Iris, owned
by Mr. Philip Leithcourt, and among
those on board cruising for pleasure
were Mr. Martin Woodroffe, Mr. Hyl
ton Chater. and the owner’s wife and
daughter Muriel.
"Muriel and I met first at a tennis
party, and afterwards frequently at
various houses in Malta, for anyone
who goes there and entertains is soon
entertained in return. A mutual at
tachment sprang up between Muriel
and myself,” he said, placing his hand
tenderly upon her and smiling, ‘ and
we often met in secret and took long
walks, until quite suddenly Leithcourt
said that it was necessary to sail foi
Smyrna to pick up some friends who
had been traveling in Palestine. The
night they sailed a great consterna
tion was caused on the island by the
news that the safe in the admiral sup
erintendent's office had been opened
by expert safe-breakers, and certain
most important secret documents
stolen.”
“Well?” I asked, much interested.
“Again, two months later, when the
villa of the prince of Montevachi, at
Palmero, was broken into and the
whole of the famous jewels of the
princess stolen, it was a very strange
fact that the Iris was at the moment
in that port. But it was not until the
third occasion, when the yacht was
at Villefranche, * ' -on be
to go along the Riviera, that my sus
picions were aroused, for at the very
hour when I was dining at the London
house at Nice with Muriel and a
schoolfellow of hers. Elma Heath —
who was spending the winter there
with a lady who was Baron Oberg's
cousin—that a great robbery was
committed in one of the big hotels up
at Cimiez, the wife of an American
millionaire losing jewels valued al
thirty thousand pounds. Then the
robberies, coincident with the visit of
the yacht, aroused my strong suspi
cion. I remarked the nature of those
documents stolen from Malta, and
recognized that they could only be ol
service to a foreign government. Then
came the Leghorn incident of which
you told me. The yacht’s name had
been changed to the I^ola, and she
had been repainted. I made search
iug inquiry, and found that on the
evening she was purposely run
aground in order to strike up a friend
ship at the consulate, a Russian gun
boat was lying in the vicinity. The
consul’s safe was rifled, and the
scheme certainly was to transfer any
thing obtained from it to the Russian
gunboat.”
"But what was in the safe?” I asked
“Fortunately nothing. But you see
they knew that our squadron was due
in Leghorn, and that some extremely
important dispatches were on the way
to the admiral—secret orders based
upon the decision of the British cabi
net as to the vexed question of Rus
sian ships passing the Dardanelles—
they expected that they would be
lodged in the safe until the arrival of
the squadron, as they always are
They were, however, bitterly disap
pointed because the dispatches had
not arrived.”
“And then?”
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Lenders—Say, I’ve been carrying
those I. O. U.’s of yours until they
are about worn out.
Burrows—Sorry, old man. Next
time I’ll use better paper.
ing at Toulon
leave
Must Be Durable.
INCREASE RANGE OF VISION
New Night Glasses Are Said to Be
Four Times as Effective as the
Old Ones.
Night telescopes four times as ef
fective as those that have long been
in use by marine officers have been
perfected comparatively recently and
are now in practical service. It hard
ly seems possible that a telescope
could be of much use in bringing near
er or making more distinct a distant
skip or building at night, but the mod
ern night glasses do give an astonish
ing amount of assistance to the eye.
Under the old theory, any attempt
to magnify a distant object very* much
—over three or four diameters, for in
stance—would be disastrous, because
only so much light could come to the
eye from the distant object; and
spreading this scanty light over a wide
■pace by much magnifying would sim
ply result in blurring the object, mak
ing indistinct objects even less dis
tinct.
Tbe new glasses avoid this trouble
by using the principle of adapting the
pupil, of the eye to the amount of light
Every one is familiar with the chang
ing pupil of a cat's eye—a narrow slit
by day and a big disk by night—open
ing up at night to admit all the light
obtainable. The old night glasses fq
cused the light to a point, and the
light entered the eye of the observer
practically at a point.
The new glasses focus the light into
a pencil one-fifth of an inch in diame
ter, because it has been found that the
pupil of the human eye will admit a
pencil of dim light of that width at
night. Consequently the eye can take
better advantage of such light as
there is, and the modern night tele
scopes can magnify to eight diameters
safely. Tests have shown them to be
four times as effective as the old night
glasses.—Saturday Evening Post.
“Paradise Lost” Was Popular Book.
How many English soldiers, one
wonders, have read "Paradise Lost”?
Maurice Baling, when in Russia,
found that nearly every soldier he
met knew it well "When two years
ago a schoolmaster in the Tambor
government told me that 'Paradise
Lost' was the most popular book In
tfie village library,” he writes, ‘‘I was
aston’shed, and thought it an iso
lated instance. At a fair in Moscow,
during the Passion week ... I no
ticed that there were five or six dif
ferent editions of translations of Mil
ton’s poem, with illustrations, rang
ing in price from 12 rubles to 30 ko
peks, and while 1 was looking at one
of them a mouzhik came up to me
and advised me to buy it. ‘It’s very
interesting,’ he said. ‘It makes one
laugh and cry.’ ... It is possible to
purchase ‘Paradise Lost’ at almost
every village booth.”—London Chron
icle.
Wouldn't Have Sister Hurt.
When Walter was a tiny fellow he
accompanied his older sister to the
dentist’s. She was to have a tooth ex
tracted and as the dentist commenced
to pull Helen began to scream. In
stantly, face afire, Walter scrambled
from his chair and grabbed the dentist
by the leg. Tugging with all his
might, he shouted fiercely: “You bes
ser stop dat If you know what’s dood
for you.”
NOT SABBATH FOR THE RABBI
Miracle Had to Be Performed to Keep
Him From Breaking Law, and
He Did It.
A gabbe, the special messenger of
a miracle-performing rabbi, so the
story is told, came to a village and all
the idlers gathered around him. The
conversation fell upon the subject of
miracles. “I heard of a wonderful
rabbi." said one of the villagers, "who
performed great miracles. One day he
was out walking, when clouds gath
ered, and before he could find shelter
it commenced to rain. The rabbi did
not have an umbrella with him, and,
not wishing to get drenched he ut
tered a ^command. And to the right
of him and to the left of him it
rained. In back of him and in front of
him it rained, but where the rabbi
walked it did not rain.”
The villagers were greatly im
pressed. but the gabbe made little of
the matter.
“That’s nothing compared to what
my rabbi did one day,” he said. “He
went out driving in a carriage one aft
ernoon, and darkness overtook him
before be reached home. As it is a
sin to ride on the Sabbath, the rabbi
for a moment was perplexed what to
do. Then he uttered a command. And
to the right of him and to the left of
him it was Sabbath, in front of him
and in back of him it was Sabbath,
but where the rabbi rode it was not
Sabbath!"
High Rents in Cities.
The enormous rise in London rents,
among rich and poor alike, during the
past five years Is shown by statistics
issued by the board of trade. Lord
Allendale, who three years ago paid
15,560 a year for his house in Picca
dilly, now pays $8,250. The rent of
the United Service club, which until
1004 was $725, is now $19,150; and
that of Lloyds bank, at the corner of
St. James street and King street, is
$15,000 a year. One must, hr-wcver,
go to New York to find the most high
ly rented tenant In the world—Mr.
Murray Guggenheim, who pays $25,
000 a year for his residence at the cor
ner of Fifth avenue and Si<htr-first
street
#
SOME COOKERY HINTS
IDEAS THAT MAY BE OF VALUE
TO THE HOUSEWIFE.
How the Ideal Custard Should Be
Made—Mayonnaise With Just the
Right Flavor—Best Way to
Serve Cucumbers.
The best custards ever made have
not been baked on the oven floor. The
tried-and-true method to make the de
licious custard is one quart of fresh
milk, scalded in a double boiler. No
more nor less than four eggs beaten
and stirred into one cup of granulated
sugar. Always lemon extract with a
pinch of nutmeg for the delicate cus
tard. It kills the egg flavor. Now,
here is your secret, place it in a pan
of boiling water in the oven, cover
your baking dish, bake it just one-half
hour in a warm but not too hot oven.
Insert a silver knife in the middle of
the custard. If it comes out clean,
the custard is done, otherwise the in
gredients stick to the knife.
Of all the professional secrets hard
est to obtain for the delicious mayon
naise this was the hardest. That un
mistakable "tang,” the tasty snap,
though hidden with other condiments
was found to be nothing else but cu
cumber. No, you could not taste it,
for It was blended with the mayon
naise. The cucumber is grated for
the purpose. Then, think of it, the
vinfegar used. Ordinary vinegar ? Yes,
but prepared with brown sugar, boiled
with spices and churned into a white
foam with one-half its bulk of olive
oil. For potato salad this mayon
naise, mixed with the cucumber nd
hard-boiled eggs is, really, one of the
finest flavored salad dressings known
to the chefs who dislike to make
known their professional secrets.
Have you seen the cucumber sliced,
but in half and decorated with slices
of red radish? Very pretty. Score
the rounded sides of the cucumber
into one-eighth Inch sections, but do
aot cut through the cucumber. Place
the flat or cut side of the cucumber on
the dish, slice the red radishes, leav
ing on the red rim. Insert these slices
of radishes between the slices of cu
cumber, alternating the red and white;
garnish with parsley, small pickles,
small flecks of beet, and serve with
salad dressing.
A delicious luncheon dish is known
as "Devils on Horseback.” Plump car
dines are used. Each has a little
blanket of bacon pinned around his
“tummy turn turn” and all is fried in
deep fat and served on buttered toast.
Don't Lose the Pie Juice.
To keep the juice in the pie, instead
of using the cloth strips, which spoils
the edge of the pie anyway, have the
bottom crust larger than the pan. Cut
the apples into sections. Before put
ting them in, cover the bottom of the
pastry with half the sugar. One cup
ful of sugar to a good-sized pie will
not be too much if the apples are sour.
Lay sections of apples all around the
edge. Then fill in the middle. Add
the rest of the sugar. Roll out the
top crust to fit and lay on. Wet the
edge all around and turn up over the
top crust the surplus of the under
crust. Press down with the fingers,
then mark all around with a fork
Make a hole in the top of the pie and
wet all over with cold water. The
oven should be fairly hot for the first
15 or 20 minutes. Then the heat may
be reduced so that the apples may
cook thoroughly. It will take about
40 minutes to bake a good-sized pie
Beef Cutlets.
Put the beef through the choppei
(as for hamburg steak), season with
sage and pepper, moisten with cream
then mold in cutlet form and broil
Serve with a brown sauce made by
browning a slice of onion in two table
spoonfuls of butter, adding a little
salt, pepper and two tablespoonfuls ol
stock. Boil 'Until smooth, then add a
hard-boiled egg. chopped in smal
pieces.
Marshmallow Pudding.
Take two dozen marshmallow drops
—stale or fresh—and put them in the
bottom of a baking dish. Pour ovei
rich cocoa, made as for breakfast ex
cept for a thickening of cornstarch;
put the dish on the stove and bake
for half an hour. Then take it out
add a meringue and brown this. Serve
cold The cooking melts the marsh
mallows, which give the cocoa pud
ding a most delectable taste.
Indian Huckleberry Pudding.
Boil one quart of milk, remove from
the stove and stir into it a small cup
ful of Indian meal. When cool add two
well-beaten eggs, two tablespoonfuls
of finely-chopped suet, one tablespoon
ful of molasses, a pinch of salt and one
quart of huckleberries. Fill a mold
two-thirds full and steam three hours
I use a five-pound lard pail. Use any
sauce you care to make.—Exchange.
Brown Betty.
Put a layer of white bread crumbs
In a baking dish and then a lay;r ot
sliced cooking apples, and so on until
the dish is almost full. Sprinkle each
layer of apples with sugar and a little
spice, if the taste is liked, and alsc
mix small nuts of butter through the
layers, being sure to have some of the
seasoning on top of the dish. Bake
a light brow'n.
Ice Cream Hint.
ice cream is sometimes fros:en so [
hard that it does not come out of the
mold easily. When this happens let
the cold water run over the outside of
the can. The water is so much warm
er than the Ice cream that it melts it
sufficiently to start it out and does not
melt it enough to spoil tha shape of
the mold.
Frosted Coffee.
Frosted coffee is delightfully invig
orating on a tet day. To prepare,
make a strong, clear drip coTee.
Sweeten to taste, and chill thoroughly
Just before serving drop on each
glassful a heaping teaspoonful of
whipped cream which has been faint
ly sweetened/ and slightly flavored
with vanilla.
FARMER’S WIFE
TOO ILLTO WORK
A Weak, Nervous Sufferer
Restored to Health by Ly
dia E. Pinkham’s Veg
etable Compound*
Easota, Minn. — “I am glad to say
that Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable
Compound has done
more for me than
anything else, and I
had the best physi
cian here. I was so
weak and nervous
that I could not do
my work and suf
fered with pains low
down in my right
side for a year or
more. I took Lydia
E. Pinkham’s Vege
table Compound, and now I feel like a
different person. I believe there is
nothing like Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vege
table Compound for weak women and
young girls, and I would be glad if I
could influence anyone to try the medi
cine, for I know it will do all and much
more than it is claimed to do.” — Mrs.
Clara Franks, R. F. D. No. 1, Maple
crest Farm, Kasota, Minn.
Women who suffer from those dis
tressing ills peculiar to their sex should
be convinced of the ability of Lydia E.
Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound to re
store their health by the many genuine
and truthful testimonials we are con
stantly publishing in the newspapers.
If you have the slightest doubt
that Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegeta
ble Compound will help you.write
to Lydia E.PinkhamMedicineCo.
(confidential) Lynn, Mass., f or ad
vice. Your letter will be opened,
read and answered by a woman,
and held in strict confidence.
Precautions.
"Til run in with you and get a
bite."
“Wait a minute till 1 lock the dog
up.” #
Millions of particular women now use
and recommend Red Cross Ball Blue. All
grocers. Adv.
Even a busy man occasionally
| makes idle remarks.
Makes Rapid Headway
Kidney disease often advances so
rapidly that many a person is firndy in
its grasp before aware of its progress.
Prompt attention should be given the
slightest symptom of kidney disorder.
If there is a dull pain in the back,
headaches, dizzy spells or a tired, worn
out feeling, or if the kidney secretions
are offensive, irregular and attended
by pain, use Doap’s Kidney Pills at
once. No other kidney medicine is so
well-recommended.
An Iowa Case
wm. N. Perden,
South Q St.. Leon,
Iowa, says: "The
first symptom of
kidney complaint
in my case was
pain in my back,
especially severe
at night. I couldfl
hardly sleep, grew!
thin and had little
ambition. The kid
ney secretions were
irregular in pas
sage. too. Doan's
Kidney Pills did
me so much good
from the first that
“Ere*
Picture
Telit a
Story”
| I kept on until every symptom of the
trouble was corrected."
Get Doan'i at Any Store. 50c a Bos
DOAN’S Vfisy
FOSTER-M1LBURN CO.. BUFFALO. N. Y.
Eczema, ringworm and other itch
ing, burning skin eruptions are so eas
ily made worse by improper treatment.
What to Do for
Itching Skins
tnat one nas to De
very careful. There
is one method, how
ever, that you need
not hesitate to use.
even on a baby’s ten
der skin—that is, the
resinol treatment.
Resinol is the pre
scription of a Balti
more doctor, put up
in the form of resin
ol ointment and resinol soap. This
proved so remarkably successful, that
thousands of other physicians have
prescribed it constantly for 20 years.
Resinol stops itching instantly, and
almost always heals the eruption
quickly and at little cost. Resinol
ointment and resinol soap can be
bought at any druggist’s, and are not
at all expensive.
The Wretchedness
of .Constipation
Can quickly be overcome by
CARTER’S LITTLE
LIVER PILLS.
Purely vegetable
—act surely and
gently on the
Over. Cure
Biliousness^
Head
ache,'
Dizzi
ness, and Indigestion. They do their duty.
SMALL PILL, SMALL DOSE, SMALL PRICE.
Genuine must bear Signature
HAIR BALSAM
A toilet preparation of merit. I
Helps to eradicate dandruff. 1
For Restoring Color and
Beauty to Gray or Faded HairJ
Me. and $1.00 at Druggists. }
Nebraska Directory
HOG CHOLER A
can be prevented. r»h.ei__ _ _
—ffijwaaaag