w
By CHARLOTTE M. BRAEME.
CHAPTER X. ( Continued. )
"You must not dare to touch me , " she
jtried ; "the gulf between us is deeper
.than the grave. You make no mistake
'about me. " She stood before him. proud
ri a young queen. "Make no mistake.
1 am not going to float down the stream
with the losi nn.l the unhappy. 1 was a
good , innocent girl when I met you in
my.iii heart 1 am good and innocent
now. Yon have duped and deceived me ;
the shame of that falls on you , and not
on me. Before the pure , bright heavens
'I hold up my head proudly as I have
ever done , and the shame recoils from me
to you. I have willingly done no wrong :
I would rather heaven knows I am
speaking the truth I would rather have
died than have done wrong ; and , to my
thinking , the wrong-doing falls from me ,
leaving me unharmed. 1 go from your
presence , humiliated , mortified , grieved
and wounded , but. thank heaven , not dis
graced. You have sinned against me. I
have not sinned. "
, "Irene , " ho fried , to stop the passion-
, ate current of word"Irene , do Listen to
reason ; we need not part. I will love
you to my life's end. I will live for you. "
. "Stay , " she said , haughtily. "Remom-
ibcr that each word of yours adds insult
to injury. I ask you now one fair , honest
.question. You own that yon have sinned
'against me : that you have wronged me ;
that you would fain undo the evil you
have done. "
"Yes , I own all that. " he replied.
/ "I ask you now , most solemnly , most
pleadingly , will you undo that wrong ?
zou say that you love me , that you c-an-
Dot live without me. I ask you , will you
make me your wife ? Give up Lady Lira.
.1 will love yon more faithfully and fond
ly by far. I will give all my woman's
.wits and talents to help you. Marry mo ,
ven now , and make me vour lawful
wife. "
- "I must refus , " he answered.
' " } on persist .in your resolution of mar
rying Lady Lira ? "
"I must so persist , " he replied. "I
cannot help it. Irene. "
"No tears , no prayers , no pleading will
avail ? " she asked.
, "No. I must speak plainly. No. "
i She was silent for a minute , then said
to him :
J "You have trusted me so far ; will you
tell me the name of the man who helped
you hi your fraud ? " "
' He half hesitated.
"You need not fear. " she said. scorn-
Cully. "If you could trust mo with Lady
( Lira's name you may surely tell me his- "
"I will tell you , " he said. "It is Vane
( Forrester. "
* , She repeated it. \
'f Vane Forrester. Ah , well , we shall
meet some day. Heaven is great and
just ; we shall meet : so here in life. Sir
Hulbert list mere , we part remember al-
, ways , with my unutterable scorn and con
tempt. I should despise from my heart
the man who needlessly shot a sweet u
einging bird , who wantonly tortured a
( butterfly , who destroyed , without reason ,
the life of a flower. What I feel for the ri
vman who could deliberately take the si
Jheart and soul of an innocent girl into
'his hands to destroy it you can better un- c
'derstaud ' than I can explain. Of one b
jthing be assured you have not so de-
JBtroyed mine. Against you and Vane
'Forrester ' I appeal to heaven , i cry for
jvengeance. And. listen while I swear it.
ffhis is my vow. You will remember it in tl [
the years to eome. I swear by the truth tli
of heaven , I swear by my mother's grave , eim
fey my father's love , by my own outrag- m
! cd honor , I swear to have vengeance a
against you , should I spend my whole life hto
in seeking it. When the time conies to
for it you shall kneel before me with IKw
[ blinding hot tears asking for mercy , but w
you shall a.sk in vain. Now , farewell. >
'Greatness ' , honor and glory lay before eti
you ; but tremble in the midst of it. Do IK
Dot forget , sleeping or waking. Irene's i-r
yow. " te
"Stay , Irene ! " he cried. j in
But she was gone gone with a low , or
passional e cry that he never forgot , leav- |
ling him there stunned and dazed with sl ;
her passionate words.
hr
CHAPTER XI. tr
The day camo at last when Sir Hul- spW
bert Est inert was to make Lady Lira W
{ jcrant his wife , a day ushered in with loi
song of bird and the sweetest whispers Io
the wind could give. ed
There was one little incident that the rii
papers failed to relate , for the simple
reason that they did not-know it. If they sa
Jbad done so , tiiat one incident would rii
have caused a second sensation. It was ta
this : On the morning of her wedding day , Ke
JDady Lira received by post a great num til
ber of letters and parcels. One among Sliwi
Others drew her attention particularly , wi
because it was quoerly shaped and sealad thj
jln black.
j "Sealed with black an evil omen for a ho
Kvedding day. " she saidto herself , as she it.on
chose it from the others to open. onwi
1 Lady Lira drew her chair nearer to wi
ber superb toilet table as she .sat down th.
tto open the parcel. imr
"To save time , " she said to her maid ,
f'you can brush my hair while I read rc
this. " rcCo
She broke the black seal. There was
ta small box ; she opened that , and saw dame
a small , pretty , jeweled dagger , made of me
'silver , with a tiny handle of pearl , and th
over it was written those few words : soi
"War to the knife ! " he
She did not recognize the handwriting ; ha
It was quite strange to her ; the slender , nn
Italian hand of a lady. She took up the in
little dagger , and looked at it. What ho
fcould it mean ? Who had sent it ? thi
"Surely , " thought the beautiful heiress , his
"I have no foes , no hidden foe.who hates wi
me , and who has sent me iSis ; why de
lehould anyone declare 'war to the knife' ]
iwith me ? I have injured no one ; 1 have wt
never done an unkind action or said an to
unkind word. What can it mean ? It is foi
an evil omen for my wedding day a C01
'dagger , a black seal , and a threat. It sta
-will take many jewels to make me forget in ig
this. I will it I will
save , wear it some wr
times , and so may find out wlto sent it. we
Put that in my dressing case. " she said of
to her maid. "Do not unfasten it again. " ofI
Every one agreed that although the chi
{ bridegroom was so fortunate , he did not a
( look his best on his wedding day. It in
a great thing to have secured the litl
I hand of one of the richest heiresses in
I England , the daughter of England's
j brightest statesman , whose "nod meant
place. " Yet Sir Flulbert did not look-
as happy as , under the circumstances , he
ought to have looked.
IIis face was pale ; his manner had
something of anxiety in it. More than
one remarked that he looked round fre
quently as though he expected something
or someone that never came. For how
could he help it ? The whole time , every
moment , in his own mind , he was going
through the details * of that false mar
riage , the pretended marriage with the
girl whom he had never intended to make
his wife.
The beautiful words of the marriage
service fell clear and distinct ; for the
second time in hi.life he said them ; the
first time had been in mockery when he
tried his best to ruin a pare and beauti-
fid soul ; this time he was in terrible
earnest , and he realized it as time went
More than once , as the ceremony pro
ceeded he turnedround '
, -round suddenly with
something of fear in his face ; he remem
bered that vow of Irene's well , and he
wondered so often how it would be fid-
filled. Suppose that , as they emerged
from the church door , they should meet
Irene Irene , her beautiful face aflame
with vengeance. Lie shuddered at the
bare idea of it , then laughed at himself
for his folly. No. Irene could never be
guilty of making a scene ; it was unlike
her altogether. She was a lady by na- ,
ture. by birth ; she would never be guilty
of the vulgarity of making a scne ; yet ,
none the less lie looked anxious as the
brilliant procession quitted the church.
It was all right : there was no beautiful
face quivering with passion , no indignant
voice denouncing his in passionate
words. He was relieved when it was all
over , and he , with his newly made wife ,
started on their wedding nun. Then , and
then only. Lady Lira found time to tell
him of her strange wedding present.
"Hulbert , " she said , suddenly , "we
have begun life with a hidden foe. "
It was no surprise to him ; he was so \
sure , that Irene would keep her vow that
before his wife told him what had hap
pened ' he knew that it was something
concerning her. n
"We have a hidden foe , " said Lady
Estaiere. 1 : "whoe one motto against us is
"war to the knife. ' Imagine , Uulbert , that
among my wedding presents this morning
1 received a parcel sealed in black. When h
1I
1a opened it there lav a silver dagger with !
a little pearl handle , and over it was tflhi
written , 'War to the knife. ' It was ad hi
dressed to me , and the writing was a
woman's. Now , can you guess ever so ti
faintly who sent me that ? " b.lSI
SI
fiV "How could I possibly guess ? " he said.
in
Vet in his heart he knew it was Irene.
Iitl was so exactly like her , just the very el
thing that she would be sure to dp. It la
would indeed be war to the knife , yet how
be
unfair to this beautiful girl who was his
wife !
In what fashion would the war be car- .
ried out ? He felt just a little apprehen-
jion. He would have liked to know more.
"War to the knife ! " Well , whatever fr
came , he must protect the woman who
bore his name ; he was quite sure of that. br
yo
CHAPTER XII.
"Home again ! " These were the words mi
hat : Irene Darcy said to herself when gc
the cruel reality of the mockery practic
ed on her came home to her. Home once sa
more : back to those who had been true
is ; steel , kind and loving ; back to the '
iiome she believed she had left forever , il.v
her mother's grave , and her father's an
.louse ; back to the kiud , indulgent father toi
ivho had loved her so well. She did not be
ause to ask whether she would be recciv- to
or not ; she seemed quite sure of that : toY
10 doubt of their love , or trust , or fidelity
rossed her. She did not feel like a peni-
ent returning to the scenes of her lost tr
niioccnce ; her faith in herself never wav-
jred.
"The sin of another cannot hurt me , "
he said , in her righteous indignation. csl
She had walked directly from
out tJie of
louse wherein she was no longer mis-
.re.N.s. < She did not go to her room , she eii
ipoke no words to her servant1 : . She ot ,
voiild ( take nothing with her thai had be- th
onged to iiim. But. as she stood outside of
ooking < her last at the home she had lov- air
so well , the gleam of her wedding of
ing struck her with keen pain.
"My marriage was no marriage. " she Sp
aid to her eif. "perhaps my ring is no dei
ing ; it may bo brass , not gold ; shall I cot
ake it off and llini : it away , or shall I th
eep it , that , looking at it from time to ste
hue. it may help me in my vengeance ? " a
She would not remove it. "At least , I tlu
nil show my father that it was put on
here , " she thought. Sp
She had no hesitation at all in going inc
ome. She had done wrong iu leaving for
without their consent , but the glaui- ma
ur of love had been over her. She had tin
written to them , and had gone without inj
ig
heir . permission ; but she bad done no
grr
lore.
fel
The shadow of death met her as she fac
ccrossed < the threshold of her home. Mrs. the
Jotrel had died during her absence. of
Dreary ] and dark had been the long ofa
ays during which Santon Darcy had stil
idurned for his daughter. The one idea for
hat ; possessed him was that he had in dul
ome measure been faithless his
to trust ; nd
had left too much to his daughter : he wif
ad forgotten the fancies , and thoughts , ed
nd loves of youth. To such a man pure 1
heart and soul as a dreaming child , Ba
opeless and helpless where all needs of be
liis world were concerned the fact of wo
cherished daughter leaving home nd
-ithont his permission had been almost a jov
eath ; blow ; he never quite realized it. am
He read and reread the letter she had
-ritteu telling him that she had gone Ita
be married , but that her marriage was ties
the present to be kept secret on ac-
oiint of her future husband's circumers
ers
tances he had certain
reasons for keep- of
his marriage a dead secret. She had hai
TJtten a kindly , loving letter , yet every the
onl was a pointed dagger to the heart
Santon Darcy.
not
It was a terrible blow ; and yet the wei
ild must be all right. Of course itwas ich
humble thing for her to leave home cov
this fashion ; but then she knew so in ; f
ttle of the world , and it , had evidently wit
seemed to her that she was doing what
he , in her place , would have done. He
strictly obeyed her request not to speak
of her , to look for her , or cause any in
quiries to be made about her.
The garden gate opened and his daugh
ter walked up the broad garden path
lined with roses walked as though she
had left it yesterday. He could see in
that faint light that she had changed
very much ; she had grown taller , she was
dressed with great elegance. He was
struck mute and dumb by her marvelous
and exquisite loveliness. His daughter
Irene. Great heaven ! were the evening
shadows playing him false , or what was
it ?
Nearer and nearer she drew ; and then
by , the faint light from the golden clouds
he saw that her face was white with
some terrible mental pain. His great
honest heart went out to her.
"My darling , my darling , " he cried ,
. with outstretched arms ! "oh. my darling ,
have you come back to me at last ? "
She looked up , and the pale face quiv
ered with pain.
"I knew you would welcome me , papa ;
but before you take me to your heart ,
before . you kiss uie , let me tell you what
has happened. "
"Tell me the worst , Irene , " he cried ;
"suspense kills me. You you have , a
wedding ring on your finger , child ; there
can nothing wrong. "
-'Listen , papa , " she said. "Nay , do not
fear to kiss me. do not fear to take me
to your heart. I have not sinned I have
been sinned again. Before earth and
heaven , before man and before heaven , I
stand erect and refuse to own that I have
done wrong , or that the crime ofa , traitor
has touched me. "
"What is it , my child ? Had he been
married before ? Is there another wife ?
What is it ? "
She wont up to him and laid her hand ,
which bore the wedding ring , on his
shoulder ; ylu > raised her white , proud ,
pained face to his.
"I will tell you , " she said. "The man
whom I loved with all my heart was a
traitor a traitor and you know all that
word means. He wooed me , he won all
my love ; then he asked me to leave home
and marry him. If he had asked me
to ( go with him to the depth of the sea ,
the fire of the southern desert , I should
have gone. He asked uie to be his wife. "
A great sighof relief came from San-
ton Darcy.
"Thank heaven ! " he cried. "I feared
there was no marriage. "
'Listen , " said Irene. "He took me
straight to London and to the place
siv
where we were to be married. Father ,
the marriage was a mock marriage , the
minister a mock minister. It was a blas
phemous farce played to deceive me ; and
now he has told me the truth I am not
his wife. "
* * * * * * *
One by one Irene resumed her duties
in her old homo ; between her father and J
inh
herself < there was no further mention
made of the one subject that filled both
their minds. Sautoii Durcy went on with
his painting. Irene resumed the occupa
tions of evory-day life , and for a short
time ; all was peace ; but she drooped hour
b.l hour : her very soul seemed to fade.
She could not bear it. this constant open
ing of the old wounds ; every spot was m
eloquent of him every tree , every green "j
lane , every field , every nook had some
legend of him. She bore it until she could
bear it no longer , until the pain of it pi
seemed to have eaten her heart away , iyU
riieu she went to her father and laid U
lier tender arms around his neck. CC
-'Papa , " she said , gently , "I must go 3
from Fernside. I cannot stay here. "
Quickly enough he laid aside his
m
rushes and took her in his arms. ,
"Why , darling ? It shall be just as
-ou say. but tell me why ? " m
"I cannot , papa ; it is killing me. Let siflj
ne go away for a time , until I have for flj
gotten him. "
Pie was silent for some minutes , then
said , hurriedly : ft
"I can satisfy your wish , " he said.
'You have heard of the Ballecoree fani-
ly ? The old duke has a palace in Rome ,
ind he has asked me to go there to re- if
ouch some valuable pictures that have dt
ien injured. For your sake I was about to :
say 'No' for your sake shall I say hi
Yes" ? " to
"Yes. " she whispered.
CO
And for a time it seemed as though the .
rouules of her life were ended.
:
CHAPTER XIII. th.
The Palazzo Spero was one of the fina
old palaces in Rome. For hundreds
years it had been the seat of-the faraw
Spero family , and they were as an- Ir'
ient : almost as Rome itself. They had
leeu ( foremost in all the grand civil wars ;
hey had been foremost in the cultivation
the arts and sciences ; they had been
mong the first and most famous patrons yo
art. yowi
Like 1 most other grand families , the
an
iperos reached a certain point of gran-
rif
eur , perhaps the highest point that
ould be reached hi this world , and after se
hat their greatness declined slowly , of
teadily as it had risen , until they became da
name and a tradition , until the last of tei
Speros died , leaving behind him one sic
nly ] daughter. The young heiress of the sicwl
iperos had but this palace and a small
ce :
iconic ; she wanted neither , for just he-
in
ore her father's death she was asked in
larriage by the Duke of Bayard , at that
ime a handsome young nobleman travel-
: in Italy. He saw Beatrice Spero at a
rand entertainment given in Rome , and
in love with her beautiful face , a mi
ace which had in it all the pathos , all ng
loveliness , all the royalty of the last tin
a race. pis
They were married while the old count pis
lived , and they remained with hini wl
a few weeks , until he died ; then the
ed
uke put some few servants in the palace .
< left it , talcing his beautiful young
ife to England , where a new life await- lie
her. ha
This is not the written annals of the inj
layard family , or a whole romance could
written of the young duchess , who
on all hearts with her wondrous beauty , G
was famous in a land famed for its Ion
ively women. , England with its mists of
fogs did not suit her. She longed lov
Iways for the sun and the skj * of Fertile
gei
taly , for the orange groves and the myr- in
, for the vine-clad hills and clear
ikes , for the sweet air and the rare flow-
. England was a cold land , a land I
mist and fogs ; though she loved her
I A
andsome young husband , she drooped in q
midst of her grandeur. *
She died whan she was quite young , Ne
NeE
more than twenty-three , and the duke E
ent almost mad with grief ; it had been
a perfect love on his side. He re- see
vered in time ; that is , he took his place
the great world ; he carried his honors tioi
dIcnitr ; he dispensed the most geu- she
eral and graceful hospitality : lip was one
of the most famous statesmen and accom-
! plished courtiers ; but he never recoveVed
his lost happiness. Some of the most
beautiful women in Euglair.l sought him ,
but he found no pleasure , no love , no
hope his heart was with his dead wife.
But in his sixtieth year , when different
pains and aches had reminded him that
he was mortal , a great longing to revisit
his old palace at Rome came over him.
He had heard from his agent there that
some of his most valuable pictures were
suffering from damp , and that one or two
needed instant attention. Of all living
English artists the Duke of Bayard pre
ferred Santon Darcy ; he liked the pathos
of his pictures ; whenever he saw them he
said to himself : "That man has had a
great sorrow , and sorrow has taught him
his art. " So that now , when he required
the services of an artist he wrote at once
to him. When the artist wrote asking
if he could take his daughter with him
'as a companion , the duke through his
secretary answered "Yes , " and then nev
er gave another thought to the matter.
( To be continued. )
A TOWN'S RAPID GROWTH.
Effect of President Hayes' Visit to a
Kansas Village.
Oeorge Clements , of Kansas City , a
well-known knight of the sample case ,
is responsible for the folknvinf story :
"Talk about the rapid growth of
cities , why , Neosbo Falls. Kan. , bolds
the record. I think the town is still
tc
on the map. but I won't be sure. At
any i rate. I remember when tbe popula
tion t jumped in one day from GOO to
40,000 , and tbe next day jumped back
again. , This was merely occasioned by
a fair , and not a county fair at that ,
but simply a little crossroads celebra
tion. It was just after President Hayes
had been elected. He was touring tbe j
West at tbe time , and tbe citizens of
Neosbo Falls secured a promise from
him to attend their fair. Tbe town was
fortunately on tbe line of a railroad ,
with a service of two trains a day. but
when the company learned of tbe Pres
vii
ident's proposed visit a gang of work
iin
men at once started to lay sidings. At
least a dozen were constructed around
the little frame station , together with
a Y for the convenience of tbe engines.
When the great day arrived the Presi
,
dent was at baud , with several mem
bers of his Cabinet and a military es
cort from Fort Riley. The railroad
company estimated that 40,000 people
visited Neosho Falls that day , and I
dare say some of them are talking
about it yet. The next day the visitors
were all gone , for there were no hotel
accommodations , and nothing to feed
them witb. The gang of workmen came
back and tore up the sidings and the
Y , and tbe town again resumed its nor-
mal placidity , just as though nothing
had happened. " Baltimore News.
Some Costly Smoked Meats.
'
"The costliest of all the smoked
meats. " said a dealer in such things ,
"are the fine hams and bacou that
come from Limerick , Ireland. Tbe
prices of these meats may vary slight
iy from time to time , " tbe hams selling
usualljr ! , however , at from 33 to 35 y
cents a pound , and the bacon at 32 or "
33 cents a pound. I"
"These costly smoked meats are "
made from fine hogs that are fed and tj
tended with scrupulous care. The cur
ing process is a secret. The result is &
shown in meats of such quality and h
flavor as to commend them most high mm
ly. m
"Of course , there are finehams pro
duced here , also , notably those of Vir
ginia , the finest of which bring 24
2ents a pound. Included in the price
the Limerick hams and bacon is a ?
luty of 5 cents a pound. If you were m
a.Id that to the price of the Virginia
lams you would raise the cost of them al
-JO cents , and adding further the , m
ost of transportation from Europe , jB
.vould briug the Virginia bams pretty m
lose to those of Limerick in price ; so
hat in their original cost they are
.
ibout the same.
m
"As to which is tbe better ham , that
vould < be largely a matter of taste. The
risb ' bam is rich and juicy , the Vir
te
ginia is of a more delicate flavor.
Coffee Weather Forecast.
Drop carefully into tbe middle of
i
rour morning cup of coffee prepared
vitb a little milk , two lumps of sugar , .a
ind from the result draw your augu-
ies. If the bubbles ascend rapidly
separate quickly , and go to the side
the cup , there will be much rain that
lay : if they gather slowly in the cen- fo
and gravitate in a cluster to the
ide , only showers are to be expected ; I _
' Iv
vbile 'if they remain placidly in the y
euter : of the cup , you may safely put
your best hat , and leave your um- kn :
irella at home. ag
Historical Novels.
,
One of the female historical novel
tuikers describes her hero as "stand-
like a piece of marble with his
numb on the trigger of his trusted
istol. " Few people of experience trust
istols'and those who press the trigger mj
lth their thumbs are usually employ-
In the museums as trick artists. But ofl
hen yof can find almost anything in ng
< hisjical novels since the women wir
ave started to writing them. Wash- r\
agton Post. stc
hu
Microbe Fecundity.
The fecundity of microbes is.prodlg- an
much that if fifteen drops
us , so so lor
water polluted with bacteria are al-
wed to fall into a cup of broth , the
erm population would have increased
ut
twenty-four hours to 80,000,000.
She Saw the Kiss Coming.
Ella Fred kissed me last night when nd <
wasn't looking. fro
Stella Shut your eyes , did youV A
few York Journal. to '
ine
Before a man becomes great , let him } ma
that his wife Is fat enough to look | iv
ell in decollete pictures , hi connec-
with newspaper accounts of how j i 4
made him. *
English Scones.
One pound of flour , one-quarter of a
pound of butter , half a cupful of sugar ,
two teaspoonfuls of baking powder ( if
self-raising flour is used leave the bak
ing powder out ) , one-half teaspoonful
of salt , one cupful of currants , one egg ,
and enough milk to mix to a dough.
Rub the flour and butter together until
there are no lumps , then add all the
other dry Ingredients. , Be sure that the
currants have been thoroughly cleaned.
Beat the egg until light , then stir it into
the mixture. Add enough milk to form
a dough as stiff as for tea biscuits. Roll
or pat it quickly until a little less than
an inch thick , and cut into any desired
shapes. Scones are usually made the
size of a coffee saucer. Bake in a quick
oven until done. Split each scone as
soon as done , and butter it , put it to
gether again , and serve hot.
Chicken Pot pie.
Cut up a chicken and put on in cold
water enough to cover , taking care that
it does not cook dry. While boiling , cut
olT a slice from bread dough , add aj
small lump f lard , and mix up like
light biscuit. Roll , cut out with a "cake
cutter and set by stove to rise. Wash
and pare potatoes of moderate size and \
add them when the chicken is almost
done. When the potatoes be : ; in to boil ,
seyson with salt and pepper , add dump
lings and season again. See that there
is water enough to keep from burning , n
cover very tightly , and do not take cov
er off until dumplings are done. They
will cook in half an hour and may be
tested by lifting one edge of the lid ,
taking out a dumpling and breaking it
open. Dish potatoes by themselves ;
chicken and dumplings together. pj
ca
Tomato Omelet. tb :
Scald and skin three ripe tomatoes , li
quarter them ; fry a quarter of an onion fo
( minced ) in an ounce of butter , toss the flt
tomatoes ' in this , add a little water
prevent burning : season witb salt , a . \t\ \
pinch of cayenne and a very slight sus- ' >
picion of mace : simmer until reduced to ! w
a pulp. Break three eggs separately'of ; '
beat them together , put them in the to
frying pan. and when slightly browned "
on the bottom prepare to fold tbe ome fo
let ; just before doing so. add tbe toma tb
to pulp and turn fbo omelet out on a u
hot dish : surround it with a little to is
mato sauce , and serve. lo
ro
Brown Bread I'uddi
tb
Six ounces stale brown bread crumbs ,
is
six ounces fresh , butter , four eggs ( the isbl
siy bl
yolks and whites whisked separately ) , .
.n.
half ounce powdered cinnamon , half ,
mi
pound coarsest brown sugar. Cream the. '
butter , then mix well with tbe sugar
jn
till quite smooth , add the well-beaten '
eggs , and stir in gradually tbe other ini i
ex
gredients. Steam the pudding for two j
jCO
hours ( , or even more ( it cannot be too
pii
much done ) . When turned out , pour
of >
melted jam over it , and serve hot.
hi
Meat Bouftle.
( tl
Make one cup of cream sauce , and
* '
season with chopped parsley and onion *
juice. Stir one cup of chopped meat ' ,
r
into the sauce. When hot add the beatj j
is
EMI yolks of two eggs , cook one minute ,
tn
find set away to cool. When cool stir tnmi
the whites of the eggs , stiflly beaten.
Bake in : i buttered dish about twenty
minutes , and serve immediately.
Cu ?
Broiled Fait Codfish. Cuw
Soak the codfish in cold
water to re nil
move the salt ; dry with a cloth , broil I nj
jver a clear fire for ten or fifteen in in- !
ites. Wben cooked serve on a hot plat- j
.er , with melted butter poured over.
sti
For Bunion * ,
tin
Apply daily with a camel's hair brush
in
lotion made of glycerine , 2 drachms ;
tin
carbolic acid , 2 drachms ; tincture of
sio
iodine , 2 drachms.
Household Hints. CO
For a bruise , a dampened bag of salt. ut ;
ass
A goblet of hot water at each meal
'or dyspepsia.
om
Clothes turned right side out careful- ho
folded and sprinkled , are half ironed.
Sandpaper will whiten ivory-handled
A
nives which have become yellow from
bai
ige or usage. baiI
A spoonful of vinegar added to the
j voj
vater in which meats or fowls are
j as
oiled makes them tender.
I the
To remove black grease stains from pro
Nothing , wash with soap and cold wa- I "
er. Hot water would only set the vii
narks. gat
gatA
Discolored enameled saucepans can A
ften be made to look like new by boil- i the
a little chloride of lime in the water con
nth which they are filled. bin
"
Table \ oilcloth tacked back of the
tove , if pans or cooking utensils are \vif
ting up. and of tables where mixing or gl'O
ishwashing Is done , saves the wall ,
nd may be cleaned easily , and lasts a T
ing time.
the
When soap is used for furniture it int (
hould be of the best quality , having mei
a small amount of alkali in its com- sun
osition , and the water used should be equ [
ikewarm , applied with a soft cloth Fro
quickly wiped off. particularly dis (
om all corners and crsrlces. dial
neat contrivance is a joblt coir seci :
keep the contents of a glass of tr-odl- wit
, for Instance , from dut It * s him
lade of a oir < ular piece < f cardbcttnl , bro
red on Uie upper side with a oro- But
leted mat in white zephyr , vth a loop he t i
* he 'enter l > y which to raise It Bed
and
' . -II
THE BORROWING NEIGHBOR. "
Effected
3alntary Treatment Which
a Permanent Cure.
borrow
People who are continually
ing household utensils and neglect to re
. The
turn them are annoying neighbors.
problem of how to cure'them of the
habit was solved in an effective though
somewhat costly way by one long-suf
fering householder. Here are the facts :
A new man had moved into the neigh-
the first things he
borhood. One of
his goods into the
did. after getting
house , was to 001-1-9w a pair of steps
from Mr. Smith , who lived next door.
Then he borrowed a hammer , a hatch
et , a screw-driver and a gimlet , all of
which things Mr. Smith , being an ac
commodating man , allowed him to
take , and all of which the borrower
promised to return "in a brace of
shakes. "
Several days passed , and none of the
articles had been returned.
"I'll cure him. " said Mr. Smith.
About a week later the man came
back wih ; the screw-driver , and apolo
gized 'iv having kept it so long.
"That's all rteht , " said Mr. Smith ,
witb a ireuial smile , "but you bad bet
ter keep it now. I have bought anoth
er. "
With a muttered apology the new
neighbor hurried back , and returned
with the gimlet , the hatchet and the
hammer.
"You are welcome to those. " said Mr.
smitb cordially. "I have bought some
others , and don't need them. "
" "
"But
"That's all right. You 'keep them.
They'll come handy about the house. "
Airain the man hurried away , and
was returning with the steps when Mr.
vS
Smith , who was just'going out , met
him.
"Why. bless me. " he said , "you need
not bring the steps back ! I have got a
new < pair. "
Tbe man kept the things , but he nev
ei borrowed anything more of Mr.
eiS
Smith. ;
The Tramp's Parlor Car.
A. casual observer might wonder why
the rods , bolted through the timbers at
pitber end. are placed under freight
\-irs , says Cloudesley Johns , writing on
he ' 'Philosophy of the Road , " in Les
lie's Monthly. They are not put there
for hoboes to ride on , but to stiffen the
iluor of the car. Sometimes there are
four two close together on each side
Hit more often there are six. separated
y equal distances. At the center ,
ivhere the rods are ridden , there is
ften room between them and Uie bot-
oin of the car for a man to sit almost ;
iprigbt. 1 tbongb witb bis bead bowe'i
"oruard. butvb"iv there are six rods
be hobo usually lies across tbem like
steak on a gridiron. While the train
moving slowly it is easy , as a rule ,
o drive him oil' by throwing coal or
-ocks at him : if it is going very fast
here is danger of killing him. and that
likely to get the brakeman in trou-
le ( from ten years to life is custom-
iry ) . There is one other way of re-
noving a hobo from the rods under a
'reight. but the
] brakeman must be a
nan of steady nerve , quickness and
j'
ujysical strength : also he must know
exactly where the hobo is before he 14.
ouies off the top to get him. Drop-
ing from the train a car or two ahead
tbe one under which the man is rid-
ng. the brakeman has time to brace
limself i before that car reaches him
the : train should be moving only slow-
yc ! then he seizes the hobo by coat
ollar or by his arms ; the motion of
he train does the rest , and the hobo
dropped on the ground. But if the
rain is going at. say. a twenty mile
The Champion Spanker.
Professor ] F. A.Lillie. of Waterbury ,
onn. , is the champion spanker of the
vorld. Recently be chastised forty-
line pupils in thirty-se.ven minutes. A
iiinstrel parade appeared just before
be time for the school to assemble for
be afternoon session. Every one of
he pupils , even to the "littlest girl , "
truck and followed the band. During
be afternoon the children straggled
and when the last one bad appeared
professor called an executive
ses-
ion in the basement , where be had put
way a nice piece of garden hose of
onvenient ! length. In thirty-seven min-
tes alter the forty-nine
children had
ssembled in the cellar they were
larched back to their desks and every
ne of them had had a taste of garden
ose. ;
He "Was iu Need of Pity
pious lady of Portsmouth had a hus-
nd who was a seaman.
He was about to start on a protracted
oyage , and as his wife was anxious
to her husband's
welfare , she sent
following notice to the villa-e
reach er : °
"Mr. Blank , who is
going to
sea. his
ife desires the prayers
of the
congre-
" °
ition.
As the old lady was quite illiterate
minister read tbe follow-in-
followinto th *
mgregation from the
slip
handed to
"Mr. Blank , who is
going to see his
ife. desires the '
prayers of the con
egation. ; " London Tit-Bits.
Insect Food.
Those who object to
eating meat as
term is usually understood will be
tcrsted in learning of
a new move-
eut whose
leaders
oppose the con
traption of beef and mutton but are
'
iially hostile to vegetarianism
' A
rench entomologist M. Dagin h-i3 *
scovered a compromise
which he cor
ally recommends iu
the shape of in
t food. He speaks
on the subject
authority , "having tested several
mdred species of raw , boiled , fried
oiled : , roasted and hashed bisects"
the most popular
insect
food of all
declares , is locust flour , which the
douins take boiled in milk or fried
serred with rice.
