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THE RED CLOUD CHIEF, EHIDAY, NOV. 22, 1895.
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It was very pro
voking that sonm
fre,os and such
people would get
married like the
rest of the world,"
Mr. (Ireeiiough
said, half In fun
and half In earnest.
Her full sowing was
Just coming on.
and hero was Lizzie
Drown, who had
Milted her ho nice
ly, going off to lie
married; nnd she
had no resource
lull to advertise for
another, and t.ikn
whomsoever sho
could got. No less
than ten women
had been there that
day, and not one
would answer.
" There comes
N u in b or Eleven;
J ou will see," she
riicd, jis tho boll
rang.
Kitly (SrconoiiKh
looked on with Interest. Indeed,
It was her gowns, rather than
her mother's, that were most
pressing. She was Just sixteen, and
since Inst whiter she had shot up hihI
dcnly, an girls at that age so often do,
and nulgrown most of her clothes.
.Mrs. Greonough was right- It was
another Beainstivss; and llrldgot
showed In n plain, sad-looklug woman.
of about forty, with an air of Intense
respectability. Mrs. (Ireenough ex
plained what she wanted done, and tho
woman Haiti quietly thai she was nc
cnslomcd to such work -would Mrs.
Greonough bo -o kind as to look nl some
recommendations? Whereupon she
handed out scleral latiy-llko nolos,
whose, writers Indorsed tho hearer, Mrs.
Margaret Clrahani, as faithful and capa
ble, lined to trimmings of all torts, and
quick to catch an Idea.
"Very well, Indeed!" Mrs. (Ireenough
raid, as alio llnlshed reading them. "I
ask nothing better. Can ou be ready
to come nt once'.'"
"Tomorrow, if you wish, niadame."
wa.i tho answer, and then Mrs. Graham
ent away.
Kitty Oreeiiough was an Impulsive,
Imaginative girl; no Mibject was too
(lull or too unpromising for her fancy
to touch It. She made a story for her
rt?lt about uvcry now person who cauio
In Jicr way. After Number Eleven had
xona down tho stairs. Kitty laughed.
"Isn't slio a sobersides, mamma? I
don't bollovo thoro'H be any frisk In
my dresses at all If she trims them."
"Tlicro'll be frisk enough lu thorn If
you wear thorn," her mother answered,
Billing nt tho bright, saucy, winsome
face of her ono tall daughter.
Kitty was ready to turn the conver
sation. "What do you think she Is, mamma
wlfo or widow?" And then answering
her own question: "I think she's mar
ried, and her husband's sick, and she
has to tako caro of him. That solemn,
Btlll way she has comes of much stay
ins In a sick room. She's In the habit
of keeping qulot, don't you see? I
wish Hho wero u little prettlor; I think
he would get well quicker."
"Thcrc'd bo no plain, quiet peoplo lu
yonr world If you made one." her
mother said, smiling; "but you'd make
,llypifc22
t.
"THERE COMES NUMDEK ELEVEN."
a. mlntako to leave them out. You
uould get tired oven of the sun If It
Khonc nil tho time."
The next dny tho new seamstress
came, and a thoroughly good one she
pro red; "bettor oven thun Lizzie," Mrs,
Cireonougli said, and this was high
praise. 8ho sowed steadily, nnd nevor
oponetl her lips except to ask some ques
tions nbout her work. Even Kitty,
who uoed to boast that alio could mnko
a dumb man talk, had not audacity
enough to Intrude on the reserve la
tt.hloh Mra. Graham Intrenched herself.
"Ho'h worse, this morning," whls
ncrtd saucy Kitty to her mother; "and
the can do nothing hut think about
Mm and mind her gathers,"
Hut, by tho same token, "he" must
Ksve been worso every day, for during
tho two weeks sho cewcii thero, Mis.
Grahaju nover spoko of anything bo
yea tier work.
Ik i
V "
Wlinn Mrs. Greenougli had paid bcr,
the last night she said:
tpv -rijra... -- - tit),,' .Si;.' " ,'V iSaSlWii il
"Please give mo your nddress, Mrs.
Graham, for I mny want you again."
"Seventeen Hudson street, ma'am; up
two tllghts of stairs, and If I'm not
there, Tom always Is."
"There, didn't 1 tell yon".'" Kitty
cried, oxiiltlngly, after tho woman had
gone. "Didn't I tell you that be was
sick? You see, now, Tom's always
there."
"Yes, but Tom may not be her hus
band, and I don't think he Is. He Is
much mora likely to lm her child."
"Mrs. (ireenough, I'm astonished at
you. You say that to be contradictious.
Now, It Is not nlco to lie contradictious;
besides, she wouldn't look so quiet and
sad If Tom were only her boy."
Hut weeks passed ou. and nothing
more was heard of Mrs. Graham, until,
at last, Thanksgiving day was near at
hand. Kitty was to have a new dress,
and Mrs. Greonough, who had under-
Trn a l n
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"I AM TOM."
taken to finish It, found thut..sho had
not time.
"Oh. let 'me go for Mr.?. Graham,
mamma!" cried Kitly. "Luke can
drive me down to Hudson street, and
then I shnll see Tom."
Mrs. Greeuough laughed and con
r.nted. In a few minutes Luke had
brought to the door thoone-horxo coupe,
which had been the last year's Christ
mas gift of I'apn (ireenough to his wife,
and In which Miss Kitty wns ulways
glad to make an excuse for going out.
Arrived at 17 Hudson street, she
tripped up two tllghts of stairs, ami
tapped on a door, on which was a
printed card with the name of Mis.
Graham.
A voice, with a wonderful quality of
musical sweetness lu It, answered;
"IMenso to come In; l cannot open
the doo-."
If that wero "he," he had a very
singular voice for u man.
"I guess ninmina was right after all,"
thought willful Kitty. "It's rather cur
ious how often mamma Is right, when
I come to think of It."
She opened tho door, ami saw, not
Mrs. Grahnm's liiiBbaiid, nor yet her
hon, but a girl, whose face looked as If
she might be about Kltty'B own age,
whobc shoulders and waist told the
same story; but whoso lower limbs
seomed curiously misshapen mid
shrunken no Inrgor, In fact, than those
of a mere child. The face was u pretty,
winning face, not at all sad. Short,
thick brown hair curled nrouml It, and
big, biown eyes, full of good humor, mot
Kitty's curious glance.
"I nm Tom," tlie same musical volco
which mado Kitty think of a bird's
warble said, In u touo of explanation.
"I can't get up to open the door because,
don't you bco, 1 can't walk."
"And why -what Tom "
Kitty struggled desperately with tho
question sho hnd begun to ask, and
Tom kindly helped her out,
"Why nm I Tom, do you mean, whon
It's u boy's name, or why can't I walk?
I'm Tom because my father called mo
Thomasliiu, nfter his mother, and wo
can't afford ftieh long names lu this
houso nnd I can't walk becniibo I pulled
a kettlo of boiling water over on my
self when I was six years old, and the
only wonder Is that I'm nllvo at all. I
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was left, you see, In a room ly myself,
white mother wns busy somewhere clsi',
and wlinn bIic heard mo scream, iiud
came to mo, she pulled mo from under
the kettle, and Kaved the upper half of
mo nil right."
"Oh. how dreadful!" Kitty cried, with
the quick tears rushing to her eyes. "It
must hnvo almost killed your mother."
"Yes thnt Is what makes her so still
and sober. She never laughs, hut she
never frets, either; and oh, how good
she Is to mo!"
Kitty glnnccd around the room which
seemed to her so hare H was spotless-
ly dean, and Tom's chair was soft and
comfortable an. Indeed, n chair ought
to lm which must be sat in from morn
ing till night. Opposite to It were a
few pictures on the wall engravings
taken from books nnd magazines, and
given, probably, to Mrs. Graham by
some of her lady customers. Within
easy reach was n little stand, on which
stood ii rose hush In a pot. and a basket
lull or bright colored worsteds, while a
book or two lay beside them.
"And you never go out?" cried Kitty,
forgetting her errand In her sympathy
forgetting, too, that Luke and bis Im
patient horse were waiting below.
"Xot lately. Mother used to take me
down Into the street sometimes but I've
grown too heavy for her now, ami she
can't. Hut I'm not very dull, even
when she's gone. Yon wouldn't guess
how many things I sec from my win
dow; and then 1 make worsted mats
and tidies, and mother sells them; and
then I sing."
Kitty stepped In the window to see
what range of vision It offered, and her
eye fell on Luke. She recalled her
business.
"1 came to see If I could get your
mother to sew two or three days for nic
this week."
Tom was alert and buslnej-.s-llke at
once.
"Let me see." sho said; "to-day Is
Tuesday," and she drew toward her a
little book, and looked It over. "To
moriow Is engaged, but jifu could have
Thursday. Kildny and Saturday, If you
wnnt so much, i'lenso wrlto your unmo
against them."
Kitty pulled off her pretty gray
glove and wrote her tiaine and address
with the little toy pencil at the end of
her chatelaine; and then she turned to
go, but It wns Tom's turn to question.
"Please," Hitlil the sweet, fresh volco.
which Bceined so like the clear caiol of
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LUKE TOOK HEIt IT.
a bird, "would you mind telling mo how
old you are? I'm sixteen, myself."
"And bo urn I sixteen," said Kitty.
"And you hae a father and mother
both, hnven't you?"
"Yes, Indeed," said Kitty.
"Oh, I've only u mother, but sho 13
good us two. Must you go now? And I
wonder If 1 shnll ever see yen again?"
"Yes, you will seo mo ugaln," an
swered Kitty, cheerily, and thou, moved
by a sudden Impulse of her kind, frank
young henrt, she bent over and touched
hor lips to the bright bonny face of the
poor girl who must sit prisoner thero
forever, and yet who kept this bright
cheerfulness all tho lime.
"Oh, mammn, l'vo had n lesson,"
cried KUly, bursting Into hor mother's
room like a fresh wind, "and Tom lifts
taught It to mo; nnd ho Isn't ho nt all
nU's n girl. Just my age, and she p'l
ill Sgw
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wulk n step since she was six year:
old."
And then Kitty told nil the sad, ten
der little story, ami got to crying ovei
't herself, and made her mother cry, too
before sho wns tluough.
Early on Tlianksglvlng Day, Klttj
set forth with Luke, In the coupe, whlcl
also contnlned n huge basket lilted wltl
dainties a turkey, n mince pie. and i
variety of good things. There wen
also a now dress, u comfortable Jacket
and a neat hat.
"I have come to take you to ride.'
said Kitty, as she bounded Into tin
room where Tom sat, and uffectionntelj
klBscd the crippled girl.
In a few minutes, arrayed In her new
habiliments, Tom was ready for the
ride.
"How will I get down stnlrs?" Ton
asked.
Luke was called lu, and thnt mysterj
was solved.
Luke took her up as If she were :
baby nnd marched down stairs wltl
her, while she heaid Kitty say but I
all seemed to her like a dream, anc
Kitty's voice like a voice In n dream:
"I'm sorry there's nothing pretty tt
I see at this time of the year. It w.u
so lovely out-door six weeks ago."
Through IJeach street they went, and
then through Hoylston, and the com
mon was beside them, with Its tree
boughs tracd against the Novembet
sky, nnd the sun shone on Frog Pond
and the dome of tho state house gilt
teied gohlenly, nnd there were merry
people walking about everywhere, with
their Tliaukscl vim; faces on: nnd at
J Inst Tom breathed a long, deep bieath
which was almost n sob, and cried:
"Hid you think there was nothing
pretty to ace today this day? Why I
didn't know there was such n world!"
The clocks had struck twelve when
they left Hudson street; the bells were
ringing for one when they entered It
again.
Kitty ran lightly up stairs, followed
by Luke, with Tom In his arms.
Kitty threw open tho door, and there
was a table spread with as good a
Thanksgiving dinner as th heart could
desire, with Tom's chair drawn up be
lde It. Luke lot his light burden down
Kitty waited to hear neither thanki
nor exclamations. Shu" saw Tom's
brown eyes as they rested on the table,
and that was enough. She bent for one
moment over the bright face the
cheeks which the out-door n!r hnd
pnlnted red as the rose that had Just
opened In honor of the day and left
ou the young, sweet, wistful lips a kiss,
and then went silently down the stairs,
leaving Tom and Tom's mother to their
Thanksgiving.
'rll:inl;i;l lilK.
That fields have yielded ample store
Of fruit and wheat and corn,
SOME NEW RESPLENDENT STARS.
"V'
That nights of restful bloaaednesi
Have followed each new tnorif;
That (lowers have blossomed 'ty tin
paths
That thread our worl.liu doys.
Thnt love has (Hied us with dfiight,
We offer heartfelt pr.ils?.
What shall we say of sorrow's hours,
Of hunger and denial.
Of tears, anrl loneliness, mil loss,
Of long and bitter trial"
Oh, lu the darkness havo r.nt we
Seen new. resplendent Mars?
Hiue we not learned somp song of faith
Within our prison bar?
Not only for the Earth's rich gifts.
Strewn thick along our way,
Her looks of constant loveliness,
We thank our God to-dny;
But for tho spirit's subtle growth,
The higher, better part,
The treasures gathered lu the soul
Tho harvest of the heart.
Mary F. Butts
ll.i.llni; Hip Turkey.
Polly loved to watch Bridget while
sho cooked the Thanksgiving dinner.
The kitchen was full of sweet scents,
ginger and nutmeg and cinnamon, and
tho smell of the big tut key in the oven
-ah!
Bridget mixed and tasted, and stirred
nnd tasted again.
"Lot mo help. Bridget." said little
Polly.
"Walt a minute, daiilnt," sad busy
Bridget, "and ou shall baste the tur
key." Now you little folks who have helped
mammn cook know thai the way tu
baste n turkey Is to toko a long spoon
nnd pour tho Juice over the sides and
breast, But Polly did not krjnv this.
Sho trotted up-stnlrs and down again,
and stood patiently by the oor. waiting
for Bridget to show her how to basto
tho turkey.
"Now, then. I'm ready," said Bridget,
nt last.
"Now, then." said Polly, holding up
her hoitds to. show that she wa,s muiy,
ton. i
On the finger ot one hand sho yore
her Uitlo silver thimble, nnd in t,a
other bIio held a needle with a lone
1 jMaUu-Utfoak
.-" '' , fi IPO
i' 4Hrty J 3
1HE BILL OF EAKE.
cssgggji UK American suo
tPnB i5 stltute for Christ
mas sonic travelers
called Thanksgiv
ing In fnr-back
times, when the
Pilgrim Fathers
and their children
set apart Just one
day out of the
whole year upon
which they might
conscientiously eat,
conscientiously eat, drink and be merry.
Our years are stancd with many hol
idays In the present age, but as a na
tion we honor and celebrate most unan
imously the day of thanksgiving and
praise, which of late jenrs has been ap
pointed by tho president as n general
feast-day, to bo held simultaneously
In nil the states. Formerly, ench gov
ernor decided on a day for his state,
without legard for the selection of
other states.
There are families who still. In re
membrance of their Puritan ancestors,
serve dishes that might be called his
torical, and to still further recall our
country's past, they servo the dinner
on that one dny when the sun Is high
lu tho heavens. Instead of waiting, as
usual, until long after the daylight is
jone.
Tho prominent and Inevitable dish
hat no housekeeper omits from her
rTl
?
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SOUV-TUREEN.
menu on Th.uksgivlng day Is roast
turkey. Oneiced hardly give direc
tions for Its cooking, for everybody
knows how Ills done, it wns America
which gave tie dish to England origin
ally, but Krfctaud has taught us some
very nice vliys of cooking the "noble
bird." Frii'ii that country we have re
ceived tlnldea of using forcemeat to
give flavallug to the Htulllng; also of
garnishing the dish with forcemeat
balls lu gifllclcnt numbers to allow of
one beliii; serled with every plateful
of turkej. These balls, which are near
ly akin to sausages, are cooked on the
pan with the turkey. They are made of
two part' of raw lean beef, one part
of porker veal and ono part of the fat
of salt pjrk, and bound by mixing with
one-foj th their bulk of bread crumbs,
choppel line and molded Into balls. As
the cawklng progiesseB. the fat tried out
froni'i
key
basfn
fromdie pork Is used to basto the tur-
Here let It be said that frequent
ng Is ono of the vital no tits of
miAoss lu roasting.
nother traditional dainty dedicated
to the day Is chicken pie. Like every
clier good thing. It dllfers in kind.
Inch housewife has her own way of
making it. and the result Is not the
f-ame in every case, unfortunately for
the partakers. To make a satisfactory
old-fashioned pie, take a pair of tender
chickens of the cm rent year. I'pon
less festhe days, more ancient fowls
may be used, but tradition demands the
best for this occasion. Cut the chickens
up Into convenient pieces. Then cut all
the lean meat from two pounds oi
breast of veal. Boil the bones of thi
veal with tho neck and gizzard of the
chickens tu three pints of water; the
water should be cold when tho scraps
are put In, then left on the back of tho
stove to simmer slowly until reduced
to one-half Its quantity. The Veal, cut
up Into small bits, is laid upun the bot
tom of a deep baking dish; the pieces of
chicken, after being skimmed, are laid
ever the veal. Broken-up forcemeat
alls and extremely thin slices of salt
ork are put over the top. One cupful
u soup stock, or-cold water If there is
to stock, Is poured lu. Put a strip of
)lilnly-roled pastry all around the edgo
Lt the dish, sticking It on with cold
,vator and turning the upper edgo over
Ithe rim. Covor the whole pie with
(thick, rich pie-crust, cutting out small
(diamonds or circles near the middle, to
iillO
illow the escape of tho gas generated
THE FATE OF THE
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In rooking. Bake very siowiy iur
hour and three-quarters; then pat a
funnel In one of the openings of thn
crust and pour In the liquor obtained
by boiling the giblets nnd bones".
Even when the dinner 1 1 Introduce!
by raw oysters, according to modern
modes, In deferring to old customs they
should appear during the feast aa a hot
dish. Rigid revhiltsts Insist on their
being served In the shell; or ns a neater
way of presenting them, stewed or
steamed lu butter for a, few moments
after being opened. Sometimes this Is
done with great success upon a chafing
dish nt the table. The oysters, which
should bo large, are laid In the bolllnc;
butter, covered nnd left for five minutes
or until the edges curl. The light Is
then extinguished, a glas9 of wine, a
teaspoontul of lemon Juice, pepper and
salt nnd a spoonful of horso-radlsh
ndde'd nnd well stirred in, and then tho
oysters can be laid upon half bIIccj
of buttered toast and served.
Cranberry sauce Is an Inevitable ac
companiment of an orthodox Tlianks
glvlng dinner. Every cook says sha
can make it. hut I llnil few who do not
spoil It. To succeed, first wash tho
berries, then piiMhein on the fire, with
only a half cupful of water to two cup
fills of berries; let them cook slowly,
crushing the berries with a wooden
spoon nfter they grow tender. When
they are done, put lu sugar until they
are pleasantly sweet. As soon aa tho
tignr melts thoroughly, take them from
the lire, as cooking with the sugar in
them makes tho berry-skins tough.
Mince, pumpkin mid apple pies nil be
long especially to Thanksgiving din
ner, and there arc persons who do not
think the day righteously spent unless
tho memory of their ancestors Is per
petuated by finishing tho dinner with
the old-fashioned bread-cake, or "rising-cake,"
us some call It. "Barm
c.ike" Is a still older name for the old
colony delicacy. In the White House,
Mrs. Madison always offered the cako
to her guests on Thanksgiving. Her
recipe was 100 years old even then.
Probably it was the evolution of tho
precious seed-cake or the early Bot
tlers. In those days the sugar was raro
and precious, and the raisins worth
their weight In gold.
As handed down to tho present gen
eration, the rule for raised cako orders
thnt n gill of yeast be stirred Into tlireo
gills of milk. Into this Is slowly mixed
ten ounces of butter oi earned with ono
pound of sugar, a pound mid n halt ot
Hour mid four eggs. Tho correct meth
od, I believe. Is to work half of these
Ingredients into the milk nnd yeast nnd
leave the mixture to rise all night.
In the morning, if the dough Is properly
lightened, work In the remainder, beat
ing the batter very thoroughly. Ona
cupful of seeded lalslns and half a cup
ful of currants nro then well llotircd and
stirred In. For flavoring, our fore
mothers used such spices as their slen
der resources allowed. Some of their
:i
j w ii lift i nun i ii ui u iiijijiauit iiuiint-nvcji--
pr.j. If Itf In ho fvirn(l If rnnnrila nrn tn V .
t,,ll.iirnn .i.t.l .... Ill..nn. l.n,.cl
lm tniHtn.d, added a small wlnc-glnsi
ful of Now Kngluntl ruin burned to glv
f .. , .. .... -.J
BUTTER-DISH.
It a resemblance to the brandy so freely
used In tho cookery of the mother,
country.
'llm IIitIIiiko of Tliniiki;lvliijj.
Our songs are sweetest for tho songs
they lifted,
Our prulses higher for their pralse3
given;
And though tho firelight show their
vacant places.
Heart cleaves to
song unrlvon.
heart, In bonds ot
So nt the feasts when some will nilsa
our faces(i
Our notes from fnr-off days will meet
their own;
The past and the present In one chorus
blending
To swell Thanksgiving hymn's around
the Throne!
George T. Packard.
GREEDY TURKEY.
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