Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About Valentine Democrat. (Valentine, Neb.) 1900-1930 | View Entire Issue (June 11, 1903)
. MICHAEL HE had just returned from tin crowded concert hall , where sh ( had uijojwl a veritable triumph Her face was . .ushed and smiling , am she still held in Iier bauds the greal bouquet of r P her favorite flower which had been given her as she lefl the plntfoim. She was recalled to hej / surrou : d.ijb : b. , tue voice of her maid , Fanch n. 'Thre .s n telegram for madame or the ttble. " . hy uiid. Denise picked ii up ; it was nujivgsed to "airs. Fielden , ' whic.'j was : : i : sujl. She was knowr to the I. . : : 0.1 v/.rld and her friends as "M _ < I. . : u. " She opencxl it sharp ly. It was brief and to the point : "I think it is right to'let you know that the boy is seriously ill. Michael. " Unconsciously she crusned the message - age in hsr hand , and her thoughts flew to the Lincolnshire village where it had been written. She saw again the flat fen-land , the long stretches of empty wastes , which she had grown to loathe , almost to fear ; all the grayness and bar renness which-were so antagonistic to her gay , beauty-loving nature. Then the scent of the roses smpte her sharply , she saw the luxury of her own sur roundings , the signs of taste and mon ey everywhere , and turning to the maid , she cried : "Bring me an 'A. B. C. ' and-pack a bag. L am going Into the country. " "Shall I attend , madame ? " "No , I don't know how long I shall be 'away. I will write. " Her lips twitched as she thought of the fashionable French 'maid in the bare manorhouse with old Hannah for company. "I wonder if he is really yery ill ? " she pondered , as she sat in the train. "I think Michael would scarcely have sent for me uuless he were. The meetIng - Ing will l > e as awkward and uncomfort able for him as for me.Pooi \ little Mich ael what a name to give a child ! I wonder what he is like .now ? He was not a pretty or interesting child. I re member he was always crying. " ' There was no one to meet her when she arrived , but that she did not expect , though the village fly had been sent to the station on the chance of her com Ing. Ing.After After a drive of nearly an hour she recognized a familiar gateway ; she re membered the old coat-of-arrns cut in the stonework , though she could not see It now , with the motto , "I live ! I die : Yes , that was all the Fieldeus bad-been doing for generations. It was a decay Ing race , and they had not had the en ergy , or perhaps thepower , to stop the ruin that was creeping on them , and the man who lived there now had grown sour and bitter with his balked life. "Master is upstairs , " old Hannah said distantly , in reply to Denise's greeting. "He hoped you would excuse him com ing down , but the child is very restless to-night , and can't well be left. If you will please to sit down and take some thing I will.tell him you are here. " And she opened the door of a room where a frugal meal was laid. "I don't want anything , thank you , Deulse said , hastily. " 1 will go up at once if I may , " and before Hannah could raise any objection she was half way up the stairs. I She ncard a murmur from the oak bedroom , where the head of the house was always born and where most of them had died , ar.d tapping lightly on the door she went in. No one had heard her , and for an instant she stood as though arrested on the threshold. What a great loom it was _ ! And how solitary those two figures looked in it ! I ain jprry to trouble you , " the man getting up as she moved. "I am afraid you have had a long , tiring jour ney ; but I thought you ought to know. " "You did quite right , " she said , thick ly. What a pitiful.little shrunken form It was , looking almost lost in the vast oak bedstead , of which it was a tradi tion that each successive Fielden should carve a panel , so that It had always seemed to Deriise a weird resting-place , belonging to the dead rather than the living. She hr.d woke up more than once on a moonlight night fancying ghostly fingers had come back to finish what here and there had been left in complete. "Oh , you poor little soul ! " she cried , a sob in her voice , and the next mo ment her arms were over the bed , and the little figure was gathered to her breast , where she crooned over it , callIng - Ing her baby , her little Michael , whom "she had treated so badly , reproaching herself and showering soft kisses on the wan face in the same breath. - "He is very weak ; you must not ex cite him , " a warning voioe said. She had forgotten that any one was there , and the calm , measured'tones were like a rebuff. The old feeling of restraint and fear held her for a moment , but the mother love , which had woke up for the first time at sight of ttie forlorn , suiferiJig child , rose stronger than any thing e'.se. "I shall not hurt him , " she said , hold ing th , ? boy close to her breast. "See , he is already more content. " The little face certainly looked less tired and trouble d. and one wasted arm had gone up arjund her neck , while he made him self-at home as a matter of course in - tlios-v .unknown . arms. "IIis he been long like this ? " she asked. "You ought to have told me , b.foie. " I- was never strong , as you may re- inc.t 'KT. " he answered coldly. "He d ; . ? i.ot take after my family ; he pines IVr.Viinnth and sunshine , as you did. ] 11 : - . finiir.1 you that you have never ' .e. u i > rc'asrn to think you took any , , ; r iJttrcst ! n him. I was nvt at all certain that you would come now. " "Not come ! " she exclaimed. Then she remembered. "I beg your pardon , " she said humbly ; you are quite right It is I who am to blame I who am in the wrong. But but , " her voice growing husky , "I did not know he wanted me BO Jbadly. I was so young when I went away I am not very old now and I did not understand many things. Per haps if you had reasoned with me if you had pointed out " "Do you think I wanted a captive in stead of a wife ? " he asked harshly. "I saw how you fretted and pined like a caged creature ; I saw the- hunted look in your eyes ; I knew you would wear your life out in a little if it went on. " "It was so dull so dreary , " she mur mured , "and nobody wanted me , not even you , I think , after a little while. I Interrupted your studies ; I was rest less and disturbed your routine , so when my legacy came it seemed to open a way of escape. I thought it was bet ter for us to go our own road before we learned to hate each other. I had a gift , only one , but it would not let me rest until I had tried what it was worth. I ought not to have married. " "No doubt It was a mistake , but in justice I must say that that was more my fault than yours. I was years old er , and I took advantage of your youth and ignorance to fasten a bond on you of which you did not understand the import. No doubt you knew yourself best. You have the life that suits you ; you were free to go your own way. " "As you yours. " "As I mine. " Something in the voice made Denise move uneasily. For six years the man and the child had lived here together ; her husband , her child. For six years she had nearly forgotten them both ; not quite , though she had tried to do so. The man and the child had been growing old together with out love or happiness while she had laughed and sung. There was nothing young in the house not even the little form she held in her arms. A week had passed , and little Michael , thinks ( as the doctor plainly said ) to his mother's devoted nursing and the in terest she created in the child's mind , was picking up bis frail life again. He was never tired of looking at her ; or admiring all the pretty things that gath ered about her as a matter of course ; he had never seen so many flowers , so much dainty luxury in his brief exist ence. ' "You use these every.day ? " he asked in an awed voice , as he amused himself svith the silver pots and bottles on her Iressing table. "Yes , every day , " she said with a gay ittle laugh. "Do you think I am very extravagant ? " "Father hasn't anything pretty in his xx > m , I like to" be here best , " he said , ying back luxuriously among the jright cushions which his mother had > rdered from the neighboring town. She > pened her lips to speak , but closed hem again without a word. Denise was sitting aloue one evening n the faded drawing-room when her msband came in. As a rule she saw -cry little of him ; they seemed to avoid : ach other by tactic consent. "There is something 1 wish to say to rou when you are at leisure , " he began. She thought how worn and gray he joked , though he was a * man in the rime of life , as he s oed before her , the ard light from the seating sun show- ng up the lines on his cold , stern face , s It showed up the patches of damp n the wall paper and the uuloveliness f the beautifully designed room. He nd it both seemed thrown away under i lieir present circumstances. j "I am quite at your service , " she ani wered. "Little Michael is in bed and j sleep , and I have nothing to do. " "It is about him I wish to speak , " he aid , as he sat down. "He is almost rell again now. " "He is very delicate still , " she said uickly. "He needs a great deal of care -he could not stand much. " Could he lean that they wanted her no longer ? lie asked herself with a thrill of fear. ' "As you say , he needs a great deal of ire , " he aaswered slowly. "He also eeds more comfort and different sur- jundings to what I can give him. I ave wondered I have wondered , " he jpeated , "if you would like to take im with you when you go ? " "Like to take him ? " she echoed , her ice lighting up with joy. "Need you sk me ? " "No , perhaps not. I have thought that a ou seemed attached to him. " "Attached ? " she repeated again with laugh. " 1 love him with all my heart , i ] couldn't bear to be parted from him aw. But don't 3'ou mind ? " looking at im witi inward resentment at his in- iffereuce. "Won't you be very lonely iihout him ? " "It will be beet for the child to be ith you for a time-at least , I think , as 3U are willing to have him. As you ly , he is not strong enough to stand ay shock , and he would miss you. I t ( ippose your engagements will necessi- .te your returning to town socn ? " "Yes , I ought to have gone before , " ishing at his evidently anxienty-to get d of her. "We will go as soon as the > ctor says he can travel. " Then as he as leaving the room , "I I should like P thank you very mucli for trusting me , for letting me have him. " , "There Is no need. I have been thmk- ig it over and it saems best for the > y , " he answered , as lie closed the "Of course there would be no thought a 'of me In It , " she said to herself bitter ly. "I wonder why he hates me * much now I Once upon a time , " thi rose color in her cheeks growing deep er , "I am sure he cared for me mon than-a little In his curleus restrainet way. " It was still early when she went np stairs to bed , but she -was tired of he ] own company. As she lit the candle : the boy opened his eyes he .slept in a | little bed in her room now and callec to her. | "I'm not a bit sleepy. Come and talk to me , mother , " he said. She sat down in the low chair and laid her head on hie pillow as he liked to have her. "I've got something to tell you , sweet heart , " she said , tucking one of his hands under her cheek. "What do" you think has happened ? You are to. come with me to mother's home. How will you like that ? " A wise and more prudent mother would have hesitated to excite the child at that hour , but Denise was a creature of impulse. "Go away with you and see all the beautiful things you have told me about ? Do you really mean It , mother ? HQW lovely ! " springing up in" bed with shining eyes. "And is father coming , too ? " "Father does not want to come , dar ling. " The childish face grew grave. "It will "be "dull for father all alone here , " he said , seriously. "You ask him to come , mother ; he'll come for you. " "Not for me , for me perhaps least of all , " she murmured , forgetting that she was talking to a child ; but little Mich ael was wiser than his years. "Go , now , mother , " he said , coaxingly. "Try. Wait , I'll tell you a secret ; it can't be wrong to tell you. Father keeps a picture of you locked up , I saw him looking at it one night , and and , " in an awed whisper , "he kissed it before he put it away. People must love a" per son very much to kiss their picture , mustn't they , mother ? " Kisses had been are luxuries in his life. "Kissed in y picture ? Are you sure , little Michael ? " The child nodded , watching her Intently. Denise thought of hoiv she was going to make the deso late home more desolate , and the tears rushed to her eyes. "I'll try , my sonny I'll try for your sake" she cried , and she went from the room. Her heart was beating fast with fear and excitement as she hurried iown the stairs before her courage fail ed her. What if he should be angry ; what if he should repulse her ? She shivered at the thought. She softly opened the library door , ivhere he was in the habit of sitting at night. A lamp was burning dimly on : he table in the center of the room , and j ts light fell on the bowed head of a ' nan ; some books and papers had been | > vertunied as he threw out his arms , aid mutely emphasized that aspect of lespair. Denise forgot her fears. "Michael ! " she cried in a sobbing oice , her arm round his neck , her cheek o his "Michael ; I've been a bad wife , > ut I want to be a better one. Will ou take me back ? " He looked up , and she saw that his iyes were wet. "Is that you ? " he said , heavily. What 3 it ? what has happened ? " "Nothing , " softly , "except that I have ound out that I want you. We both rant you , little Michael and I. You ron't send us away or you will come , oo ? " "Want me youhe said In a husky rhisper. "Is it really true , Denise ? " le held her in his. arms as one holds oraething very precious that one is half fraid to touch.V"I had almost given up raying and hoping. " Black and Fhite. WOMAN' J PRINCIPLES. [ est Suitable and Satisfactory Thins She Can Acquire. After all that has been done for mericau women by legislators and lucators , and college builders and re- > rmers , it stiH remains true that the st valuable possessions a normal ouian can acquire is a suitable and itisfactory man. Nothing else Is quite i serviceable in promoting the fulfill- ent of her destiny and her comfort bile it is in the process of fulfillment , othing else if she Is normal and ; re are very few women who are > t considerably normal quite takes a an's place with her , says Harper's reek\v. One of her most valuable tfvileges is that of selecting her man , picking and choosing and taking time about it , and possibly even of ranging her mind after she had be- m to think she knew it. It Is ob- rved that women who are good , a-nd : ve the luck to be charming also , .ve great ad'--intages in carrying this iportant process of selection to a cccssful issue. More men are avail- ile for such girls to choose from , id once the choice is made the re- Iting coivtentnieut is more apt to en- ire and to Avax , instead of diminish- ? . The most that legislatures can for married wpmen is to protect eni from bad husbands. Choosing od ones is a matter of personal en- : prise which laws can do "little to omote. But , of course , a woman 10 has fe-w rights and is in complete ssession of a satisfactory and comj j ti ttfnt husband is better off than if a e had more rights and no satisfacH ; : y means of realizing her destiny. IT ti B American girl ever has to choose c < tween her rights and her privileges * ' including the privilege of being & iirming , and this invaluable privitl ; e of selecting a man that suits her o { lie will undombtedly do well , as Miss ti iskam advises , ' to hold on to her 1" Ivileges and let her rights go. But a e will hardly have to make such ak t ( olce. She will retain her privileges , i yway , and all the rights she' can tl ike up her mind to want , besides. I m jls tVlien a man doesn't use tobacco In ' [ r y form , we wonder how It happened. ABRAM'S STEERS. Good Animal * , but He Had Not Stated What They Coat Him. They were all gathered around th stove in the deacon's store when Abram Rowland entered , and was greeted with inquisitive nods and glances. Abram was a man of affairs , and in his cattle-buying expeditions sometimes traveled far. This brush ing up against the world , says a writer in the Boston Herald , gave him an air of shrewd ability , and his neighbors were evidently anxious to hear of his latest purchase. "That was a fine pair of steers I saw ye toting up the' road t'-day , Ab'm , " suggested the deacon. "Fine a pair as I ever picked up , " Abram Howland replied , easily. "Well matched , I s'pose ye noticed ? " he con tinued. "Should say's much , " replied the dea con , admiringly. "How much did they set ye back , I wonder ? " This was what everybody wanted to know , and the audience turned inter estedly for Abram's reply. "Oh , I got 'em back here quite n piece. That nigh one , he come off old man Tolles' place , up Goshen way. He's a pretty good rnatch but not qu tt so good's t'other one. He conn " : rom "What did ye pay fur 'em ? " repeated the deacon , raising hs ! voice slightly Abram kept on in his established mon otone. Apparently he had not heard the deacon's question. "You know that Swede , the one that took up the eld Haskins farm , all run down to wreck and up to brush. Well , he had t'other one. I see by my eye there wa'n't an ounce difference n their hefts , so I made a dicker f get 'em both. ' Glad ye all like 'em. " "Yes , but how much did they tax yt " " fur"'em ? ' shouted the deacon. Arm 'Bije Stiles added , "Bet ye. now , the Swede taxed ye more'n Tolles did. if truth was known. " "I didn't consider that any defect , ' ' replied Abram , gayly. "A star more or less don't make any difference , and that's as nigh alike as ye can' expect f pick 'em up , fur apart's them was. " The deacon got down to Abram's ear ind shouted , "Abram , I asked ye what re paid for the pair ? " "Well , the Swede's hair may be a Little finer , but what of it ? " demanded brarn. "I never see him deaf like this be- : ore , " apologized the deacon. "Abram vhat did ye pay for the steers ? " "Oh , they are yearlings all right. I ; ot their pedigree down fine. And J : al'late that if I don't dispose of 'em : or driving , I can fat "em up good for narket. Now Western beef's getting ; o high we Eastern fellers can work n a fat critter oucein , a While | without osing anything. " By a simultaneous movement the fathering forced Abram's attention rom the high joint of stovepipe where lis eye had been fixed , and shouted .t him in desperate unison : "What did them steers cost ye- " "Did I hear ye ask what they cost ? " [ ueried Abram , with a twinkle in his ye. "Now I can't ricollect just this ainute whether I told anybody yet rhat they cost. No , I don't think I ave. But I'll think it over , and if I emember telling anybody I'll come ack an' let ye know who it was. " Jid so saying , Abram struggled to is feet and stalked out. The Happy Microbe. I'd like to be a microbe , And with the microbes play , Without a tank to fret me Through all the livelong day. I'd like to give up striving To make ends meet , and fare Wherever fancy led me , Without a worldly care. I'd like the independence To freely come and go , As does the happy microbe , With none to say me no. The microbe serves no master , He never has to sigh O'er chances that escaped him Or joys he let go by. His loving wjfe ne'er dopes him Because his feet get wet ; He needn't go in springtime To look for homes ' 'To Let. " At night his mate ne'er grists ! iim By running out to say : "I hope you've had your dinner , For Hannah quit to-day. " His baby never tumbles Out of its little bed , Or crawls beneath the table To bump its little head. Hou cleaning has no terrors That he must ever face ; He never is besmirched by A relative's disgrace. Oh , happy , happy microbe , t Without a task or care , a I wonder if you envy t Some smaller mite somewhere ? P Chicago Record-Herald. s a Valuable Railroad Track. w rhe most valuable piece of railroad we ick in the country lies in the yards St. Louis. The Iron Mountain and tl ? Missouri Pacific are Gould proper- tln : s. but at only one point are they tmected , and that is by a stretch of ii ick less than two miles long. When iiei y Gould died he willed this little eis ick to his daughter Helen , and she rns every rail and spike ia it. The 9 ! .usfer between the charges two w ids over this track pay her $25,000 wb : year. Miss Gould does not have to ip up the track , furnish cars , men si anything else. All that is dqne by si ; roads using the track , , and they ist also keep the-track in repair. It ei said to betb best piece of paying eim ' cksin the worid. ec echi sirSvU'S.swBi aS.iaElS XS , The Women on the Farm. Womankind may be divided into two classes ; those who live In towns or cities , and those who live in the coun try. Each class has its own peculiar advantages , though at first sight it may seem as though the former pos sess the greater number. A closer thought , however , will show that the woman on the farm can lead an equal ly happy life if she will make use of the advantages within her reach. But therein lies the trouble. The average farmer's wife does not accept the chances for increasing her happiness. One by one she lets them slip past intent oh her many duties. She cer tainly has to work very hard , doing very often tasks which are beyond her strength ; and In doing them , too , In such an uncomplaining way that sel dom is her labor appreciated at its real worth. In this way she makes the mistake of thinking that for her life means simply long periods for work and shorter ones for rest. Day after day brings the same monotonous routine , and gradually life narrows down to a circle of never-ending du ties , with little .pleasure or recreation , not a. pleasant prospect , and yet a true one in many cases. But all this can be changed by means of common sense and determi nation. Life was never intended to be spent by anyone wholly In toiling. Happiness can be had for the seek ing ; and very necessary is it for the farmer's wife to seek earnestly for it She must remember that work is not the only duty. There are others equally important requiring her atten tion , and among them comes first the enjoyment of as many pleasures as she can obtain ; and they am be found in the country as well as in the town. There are various ways by which the woman on the farm can make her life more joyous. One is by taking good care of her health and saving herself is much as possible. This is her first luty to her husband and children , and in accomplishing it she needs all the help she can get. There is no reason tvhy there should not be in many farmhouses , where circumstances al ow it , modern inventions and laborsaving - saving devices which would materially ighten the housework. The practical : armer prides himself on keeping up vith the times in the implements he ises. Then why should not his'wife lo the same , and thus lengthen her life ) y years ? Let her see to it , then , that ittention Is persistently called to this natter , until the desired results are se- : ured. Lastly , there' is the virtue of hospital- ty , which can be practiced on the arm in winter as well as in summer. iVhy not plan an occasional social fathering , invite a few of the neigh- M > ring women over to tea , and have a pleasant time together ? Only extra vork , perhaps , you think , and what peed would it do ? Ah , much ; try the experiment yourself and see. Like everyone else , however , the roman on the farm must early de- Ide foe herself what things in life are eolly worth living for. She must hoose , between the trivial and the Im- and aim at beautiful sim- everything. Many pressing .uties may be near at hand , but , tak- ag them in the best way , she will eon realize that they are not the main ndfi to keep in view , but are only tops In making a happy , cheerful ome. For , after all , it is not so much he place where we live , be 'it town or gantry ; not so much how large or ow amll the income may be , as it is tie coltiYmtion of a sunny dlsposl- on , a hbpeCul i > lrit , which seeks and f ndsjoy everywhere. And in theaa nd In many other ble ungs the -srom- n on the farm may freely and con- antly share , if she will but majce an DTort to gain and give the best re- artis of life joy and happiness. armers' Advocate. Th y Do't Marry. WGl it be too much for human -t eduHty if I assort that the woman ofeasoc does have love affairs ? Al- * iocgh not a statement which can be oved by statistics , I am prepared to ake much upon the universality of 5 truth. I would add that some of e peculiar features of her social po tion and of her ueual views of life nd to complicate the matrimonial I * obtem as it is presented to her to Ire. * * * More than one suitor ono td I hare split upon such rocks as o tiether in furnishing our honia his la me ( It always B ems to be "his" ) more properly be expended upon 'fi : 0 purchase of a piano or a sewing ai ichlno. To descend from metaphor , * * I have not found that ready isculine cornpcehenjBion which ii uld have vrlahed of my very de * p- . ited , and as I think legitimate , foal- _ . 1 that it would be an unspeakable * ° crtflce to exchange the work to lieu my best efforts and dearest am ices hartf been given for a life of- ap th re domesticity merely for the con- iarably overeatimated boon of being Sported , no matter how well. * * those geHtiecnenwho are at prcs- wl t disquieting themselves over the sq > ment > us question why thehigher sqme seated * woman Trill not marry , per- me ps the foregoing may offer a hint. mewi May It not be because when her rela tions with all men are so agreeable she hesitates to exchange them for the highly problematical delights of a relation with one ? Being the super ficial sex , we naturally value more highly the bird in hand of congenial interests than the two of a conjugal felicity which Is very much in the bush. Confessions of a Woman Pro fessor in Independent. f When Mother Died. They told me in the night that she was dead , And then I knew from out my life had fled All beauty ; that thenceforth my pathway led In lonely lands ; that I should miss th red Of woodland roses and the morning'H glow. For she was my best friend ! The words rhe said In prayer each night beside my trundle bed I still recall ; the pillow then she spread With such a touch that I no more can know ! She sought the smoothest ways for m to go , And her sweet faith brought all th mountains low ! rhe seeds of kindness that she planted grow Ire blooming now unharmed by frost or snow , By crystal dews from heaven nightly fed ! Ind when I dwell upon the long ago 3er smile to me is bright as was the bow ' Co those upon the flood ; I uyss it so * ow when the winds unbridled wildly blow And rain descended on my defenseless head ! An Accomplished Girl. A girl's education is most incomplete inless she has learned : To sew. To cook. To mend. To dress neatly. . | To keep a secret. . , # , . * * To avoid idleness. " ? , To be self reliant. * To darn stockings. , To respect old age. * - * & * To make good bread. To keep a house tidy. To be above gossiping. To make home happy. t To control her temper. To take cere of the sick. To take care of the baby. To sweep down cobwebs. To marry a man for his worth. To take plenty ef active exercise. To be a helpmate to her husband. To keep clear of trashy literature. To be light-hearted and fleet-footed. To be a womanly woman under all ircumstances. Woman Candidate Defeated. Mns. Nettie Catlin , who ran for May- of Hartville , Wyo. , stands as a novel jure in politics. Although she was defeated the cam paign doubtless will be a precedent that will be follow ed in other Wyom ing cities. The women of Hart- ville , not being pleased with the city government , held a caucus and named MBS. CATLIN. " . , . . dent ticket , f Crs. Catlin at the head. The race was d e one , but Judge J. J. HauphanfC reflected Mayor for the tkird No woman ever ran for Mayor r * ' * Mrs Catlta to le wife of Dr. George S. Oatlhva rotninent mining man , well -known inxigfaout Wyoming and Colorado. Thirst and Baby' . Veil Give the. baby water six times a "dav canaot dwell upon this command oth too muc'h earnene < * . B offer with a thirst that nothln * n f ectnaUy sa who have them In Hake its ve ciuffoa selected especially for Uspurpose , edged with a delicate .ee heading , through which baby > is and finished drap In ieicbsl . These are held i rer the cap with baby pins > . -e U Tnrfcev Ihe dowry of a Turkish bride : ed by custom at about $1 70 aount , r politic reasons , is parted from , even by tfe- * Idinff day Is invariab/ A the customary wedding fin on Monday ana carried and each bj a different o ns or forks or wines Imkstained Dip your ftacors into and the inlc stains disappear. It i
