— “Bellefonte, Pa., April 11, 1930. ITS EASY TO LAUGH. i | ! suddenly and quite dred. He saw that he was obeyed, too! Once, when Mildred was trying to slip quietly over to see Rodney, Tom met the car and turned it back. And, when I was invited down rather unexpectedly, I was hardly surprised, knowing Tom, when he explained that he wanted me to keep an eye on Mildred, He It’s easy to laugh when skies are blue had been called away, he said, and, And the sun is shining bright; Yes, easy to laugh when your friends are true And there's happiness in sight; But when hope has fled and the are gray, And the friends of the past have turned away ah, then, indeed, it's a hero's feat slides | unless he could leave some respons- ible person in charge, he must take her with him to make sure that she didn’t race to the Hall the moment his back was turned.” If I had not realized already that Master Tom was an ass, this would have convinced me. «A most improper request,” I said. To conjure a smile in the face of | “I hope you had nothing to do with defeat. it's easy to laugh when the storm is o'er And your ship is safe in port; Yes, easy to laugh when you're on the shore Seéure from the tempest’'s sport; Fut when wild waves wash o'er the stormswept deck And your gallant ship is a gallant wreck Ah, * that is the time when it is worth - while To look in the face of defeat with a smile. It's easy to fought And you know that the won easy to you sought Is yours when the race is run; But here’s to the man who can when the blast laugh when the Dbattle's victory's Yes, laugh when the prize laugh Of adversity blows; he will conquer | y : Mildred went her way, and I went at last. For the hardest beat Is the man who can laugh face of defeat. man in the world to in the r—— le ——— THE SEVENTH YEAR “Gratitude ?” murmured my cousin Theresa, dreamily interrogative. “I know the word, of course, but the thing it stands for——” As any one who knows Cannes is able to testify, the little shops be- tween the Majestic and the Carlton are as seductive as any in the Rue de la Paix and not much more than twice as expensive. My cousin Theresa and I had watched American and South American women, French, English, Russian and Spanish, each attended by a man to pay the bills and carry the parcels, and we had ex- pressed an ungrudging satisfaction that so many rich men could still be found to support so many expensive women. An unmistakably English couple who had just dived—after long inspection of the windows—into Lacloche’s prompted me to add that, as England was the most heavily taxed country in the world, I was grateful that the inland revenue au- thorities had left enough money in circulation for a fortunate few to participate in this international riv- alry of ostentation. It was at this point that Theresa .exploded in the manner which Ihave described. Gratitude? “We'll hope they're as grateful as I am,” I said. ‘I love to see women beautifully dressed and I love beau- tiful jewelry—" “H’ll be buying her emeralds,” said | my cousin between her teeth. ‘“Mil- dred has the loveliest emeralds I've ever seen. Tom gave her a great collar of them when they married—" | “Were those friends of yours?” I asked rather superfiuously. “Tom and Mildred? They were. Mildred and I were at school togeth- | it.” Theresa nodded, sawing the air with an emphatic forefinger. ‘I made it clear to Tom,” she an- swered, “that if I was to stay an- other hour in his house it must be neither as a spy nor as a keeper. He announced to the heavens at large that, if Mildred got up to any of her | tricks, he’d divorce her as quick as winking. I said that was entirely his affair. He appealed to me as his oldest friend, the friend of both par- ties, the woman who'd brought them together. ; “I said I'd do everything in m power to keep the rift from widen- ing, but that, if he continued to sus- pect Mildred without cause, she would very soon give him cause to suspect her in grim earnest. Some- thing to cry for, as our nurses used to threaten. If I remained at all, I said, I should remain asa friend and 1a guest. “And I was as good as my word, mine. When she told me she had 5 was just saying to myself. Thus far and no farther, when my maid brought a message that Sir Thomas would like to see me if I was dis- engaged. “Oh, is he back?” I asked. «Jt was utterly unnecessary for me to pretend anything to any-- body, but I wanted to keep cléar of the conspiracy. I wanted my maid to realize that I could meet Tom without any kind of embar- rassment, It was no good! My maid was in as deeply as the rest. I shall believe to my dying day that it was the boot and knife boy who telephoned to the Hall and told Mildred she must come back at once. * “You may be sure I was not let off! While I kept Tom out of mis- j chief, my maid was going to patrol | the Hall road in the hope of inter- cepting Mildred and putting heron her guard. And, before I'd been ‘talking to Tom for three seconds, !Ihad not only joined the consipracy ‘put taken charge of it! “] said it was a pleasant surprise to see him before we'd expected ‘him. He . interrupted by asking when Mildred had left the house. i I said, some time after breakfast. | He informed me that he had the | best reasons for believeing that she had gone to the Hall on Friday night and had not returned since. I answered that this was not only ' fantastic but impossible; Mildred land I had dined together »n Friday, { lunched and dined together on Sat-! urday.” As my cousin paused, I took oc- ,casion to say that she had not spared her corroborative detail. { “What else could I do?” she ask- ed helplessly. “The story about the : masseuse might be true, but I some buisness with her women's .o;ldn’t use it after what the ser- institute, I pretended to believe her yants had said. We were all going implicitly.” to be hanged, so far as I could So much irony was lavished onigee and it didn’t matter much the “implicitly” and the “pretended” | whether we were hanged for shee that T felt obliged to ask ee Ts. ne > the women's institute was a blind brief for perjury, it may be justifi- And, though I hold no | story! for the Hall. “I don’t know,” answered Theresa primly. “I shall never know, I considered it my business not to know. All I can tell you is that the institute was one direction, the Hall in another and that Mildred went and returned for all the world as though she'd walked round five sides of a hexagon. It wasn't my business! Hadn't I told them both, till I was sick and tired, that I should observe strict neutrality? And it wasn't even my business when she had to visit her masseuse in Bath. A sudden twinge of rheu- matism. Two or three rubbings. Could I ever forgive her if she stayed away for the night? “I did suggest that she might have the masseuse out to the house. Ordinary prudence. And Tom ready ; to put the worst construction on everything. Mildred said it was out of the question; the woman had an invalid mother who couldn’t be left.” Theresa paused to make a calcu- lation on her fingers. “That must have been a Friday,” she resumed. “Tom had gone away on the Wednesday, for a week. Yes, that's right. And he came back, without a word of warning, | on the Sunday.” “To find that she wasn’t there?” I hazarded. My cousin nodded grimly. “And that I didn’t know where she was! And I had no idea whether we had a spy among the servants! And there was no time to make up a And, if there had been, I couldn’t imagine what kind of story Mildred would like me to make up!” Theresa’s voice, which had been er, and Tom was my oldest friend. | rising in a crescendo of excitement, It was through me that they first suddenly dropped. “Quite met seven years ago.” As Theresa has herself been married candidly, | I lost my nerve,” she sighed, “When I saw Tom’s car coming up the fully ten years, I realized that Ma- | grive, I fled to my room. After all dame Mildred’s offense could not be | § was that of stealing the heart of her old- | could see no possible way of keep- est friend's oldest friend. Where did the ingratitude come in?” I ventured. My cousin stared resentfully at the many colored windows behind which Madame Mildred was adding to her collection of emeralds, “The trouble began last year,” my cousin explained, “at Tom’s place in Somerset. His marches with Fat Rodney’s, and they were all good friends until Tom, who's as jealous as a cat, took it into his head that Rodney and Mildred were becoming too fond of each other. I don’t know that there was anything more in it than in Mildred's last half-dozen af- fairs, but Tom decided that he must put his foot down. “He pretended, I believe, that he | couldn't allow any gossip about his : own wife in his own county, but the | truth is that the time had come for them to readjust themselves. They'd been married six years, and the sev- enth year is always supposed to be the most critical. Tom was desper- ately in love and desperately out of | i ! : not Mildred’s keeper. I ing out of it. “Well, the car pulled up at the door. The chauffeur rang the bell. I heard Tom say: “Is Her Lady- ! ship anywhere about? And I wait- ed for the butler to tell him that Her Ladyship had gone away two days before, without her maid, and that nobody knew where she was or when she would be back. I had a dreadful feeling that Tom would order the car off to the Hall, that he’d catch them red-handed, that there would be shooting all round, “To my amazement, I heard the butler saying quite calmly: I will see, Sir Thomas. “Before I'd had time to collect myself, I heard the butler coming back to say that Her Ladyship had gone out in walking things soon after breakfast, but expected to be |W back in time to change before luncheon. No mention of the mas- seuse, by the way! And no hint of any direction! “The next to come into the con- love by turns. Very much on edge. | spiracy was the gatekeeper at the Very unreasonable. And Mildred was | south lodge, who blithely swore the same, except that she’s never that Her Ladyship had taken her been in love with anybody; she just | dog through that way between 10 condescends to people so long as she and 11. thinks they can be useful to her. After this, you won't bein the least surprised to hear that I “Well, the marriage was hanging fell without a moment's hesitation!” by a thread. Mildred was wonder- My cousin looked up at me de- ing whether it wouldn't be better to | fiantly as though challenging me to go back to her old poverty than to 'say that I should have acted differ- put up with Tom any longer, wheth- ' ently in her place. er he hadn’t exhausted his usefulness. Tom was stamping about, saying, |in any “It would have been bad enough event, for Mildred to be “This isn’t good enough—' and hop- ; hanged on my evidence, even if the ing for an out-and-out quarrel if he ' evidence had been corkscrewed out zouldn’t bring her to heel. travagance was appalling! “She neglected her local And then people began to talk about Her ex- ; of me, | ! duties! {| forward and volunteered but it would have been a million times worse if I'd rushed to Tom that his servants were lying to him the way she was seen everywhere : and that Mildred had disappeared with Rodney. What could ‘poor’ Tom | on the flimsiest of excuses for one be thinking about to allow it?” Though I am personally unac- two -uainted with “Fat” Rodney, | night and had then stayed away t At the outset T had insisted I have | that I was there as a friend, tak- <ollowed his career in the press and | ing no part in their wrangles, and, can sympathize with any husband vho regards him as an undesirable ‘riend for any wife. ment in this sense to Theresa. “Oh, every one knows Rodney jasn’t a very good mame,” she “greed. “And I, for one, didn't Jame Tom when he took it on him- ~elf to forbid him the house and to put the Hall out of bounds for Mil. I made a com- | dignified course. | { though I don't pretend that it was a particularly straightforward or I decided that my clearly expressed neutrality must relieve me from the obligation even of correcting statements which I knew to be untrue. “Alas, when one makes friends with the mammon of unrighteousness po half measures are permitted! I able when, by telling the truth, | you become responsible for. ome or two lives. “There was such an air of mur-’ der about Tom that I wondered why | he didn’t go straight out with his gun instead of asking me questions ‘of which he didn’t believe a “one of the answers. scribe the sceme we had! He was like a madman! “I wouldn't give in, though! gradually it dawned on me that he did half believe what I was telling him. I don’t to this day know whether he was bluffing when he talked about his reasons for lieving’ that Mildred had gone to the Hall, but I realized he was bluffing when he barked out: ‘It's not true! Why can’t you be honest about it?” I stuck to my story un- til he became positively insulting, and when I asked him to excuse me, he flung off to the library, vow- ing that he would instruct his solic- itors to institute proceedings for divorce. He was still there writing like mad and leaving me to starve, when luncheon was announced, “I don’t know whether this «was bluff, too; with a violent tempered man who's violently in love and { violently jealous, you can't tell for { certain, but I didn’t dare give a ‘hint that I was weakening. I told the butler to ask him if he would mind my beginning luncheon alone, as I was faint with hunger. That prought him back to the attack in no time! Perhaps he thought I could be starved into a confession! “He flourished a letter in my face and asked me if I still denied that Mildred had been away since Friday. I told him I had nothing to add, nothing to retract. He told me to read the letter—this kind of thing could go on no longer. I said that if he tried to divorce Mildrea — whether he succeeded or not—he would be the first to regret it as —unfortunately for him—he was obviously still in love with her. That sobered him, even though he continued to declare that this sort of thing couldn't go on. “ ‘But, I said, whether you di- vorce her or not it's no affair of mine. I may lament as a friend but it’s only too clear that I have no influence over you.” “I don’t think you can get out of it as easily as that,” said Tom. And I'm sorry our old friendship should count for so little in your eyes. It ! so happens that you're the one per- son who can save things, I'm sor- ry if I rather lost control of myself, {but this is quite literally a matter i of life and death. I can trust you. If you'll swear that the story you've told me is true, I'll tear this letter Theresa looked at me again with a glint of defiance, but this time she Terrible! And take up her challenge. she went on. sacred.” For some time the traffic along the Croisette had been lessening; the clock at the top of old Cannes marked a few minutes to noon. As the shopkeepers locked their doors for the midday meal and rest, the South Americans and Americans, the English, Russians and Spaniards desisted from the labor of shopping and repaired to the Galeries Fleu- ries for cocktails and orchestral se- lections from the musical comedies of Victorian England. “By everything Iheld opened. An unmistakably English couple was bowed out. drove away, its occupants rigidly in front of them. bitter laugh. pay through the nose!” she ex- claimed vindictively. “You are allowing personal re- sentment to interfere with your story,” I said. “We had the point at which Sir Tom, nanimously or weak-mindedly, cided to forgive his wife—" mag- about it!” my cousin interrupted. “There was nothing to forgive! You may be sure Mildred saw to that. single I can’t de- seemed confident that I should not “Of course, I swore it was true,” At length the door of Lacloche’s As the car stared ! Theresa relieved her feelings in a “I hope they've been made to reached | de- | “My dear, there was no forgiving She sauntered in halfway through luncheon, apologized to me for be- ing late, patted the top of Tom's head and told him that, as he wouldn't trouble to repair the foot- path from the church, she’d hadto come the whole way round by road. “Jt was superbly done, though I thought the reference to ‘church’ was perilously near blasphemy. She nev- er asked why Tom wasn't in London. Though something was quite obvious- ly the matter, she refused to notice it, And without saying a word, in a way that I can only call magnificent, she denied his right to question her, or wonder about her or even speak to her until she’d suggested, hypnoti- cally, what he was to say. By the end of luncheon, it was Tom who had come to heel. “Afterward, when we were alone, she kept up the same attitude with me. And, my dear, with the same re- sult! You might have thought I should be taken into her confidence, but the only reference she made to . her absence was to say that she had fully intended only to be away one night. No regrets, no apologies, no thanks, either to me or her guardian senger being limited to fifty pounds ; devil for getting her out of an ap- palling scrape! “All I can tell you is that, when I tried to pierce Mildred’s armor by in- quiring after her rheumatism, she said very deliberately that it was better, but that she believed she would have to take a cure at Vichy, after all. “I made an excuse to leave next ‘day. Whatever had been the purpose ‘underlying my invitation, I felt I'd fulfilled it generously. If I hadn't kept Mildred out of mischief, as Tom hoped, at least I'd tided them over the worst crisis of their married life. THE OLD COACHING DAYS WERE HORSE KILLERS. Appearance in widely circulated national weeklies of advertisements calling attention to transcontinental bus lines which traverse Pennsylva- nia reminded General Edward Mar- tin, State Treasurer, that at ome time four companies operated stages on the National Pike, then called the Cumberland road, a leading avenue of East-West travel. “The companies engaged in stag- ing on the old pike,” said General Martin, “were the National Line, Good Intent, June Bug, and the Pioneer. No one now living recol- lects how the “June Bug” Line re- ceived its name. Relays were es- . tablished at a distance of from ten to twelve miles, and there are some records of quick changing that would make a modern Jehu turn green with envy. An old driver still boasts of harnessing his four horses in four minutes, and of ' changing teams before the stage ‘ceased rocking. Ponderous trunks ‘were strictly forbidden, each pas- of baggage, and there was careful | weighing in those ddys. Each stage ' complement consisted in not more | than nine passengers. As many as , fourteen coaches have traveled to- gether with the 100-odd passengers. If there was a mail coach among i them, the ‘toot, toot’ of the driver's | horn added to the gaiety of the | scene; and when a wayside inn was j reached, and the passsengers disem- {barked for refreshments, what joy- ‘ful recognition, uncorking of bot- tles, and the like were there!” | In those days through mail coach- {es left Wheeling at 6 a. m, and FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN. ; Daily Thought. Our cat was not hygienic, i So we kicked it off the place, Because he spat upon his feet And wiped them on’ his face. —Light has been shed on this current movement by the viewing of late collections in which there is a definite tendency to raise the posi- tion of skirt fullness. Although re- taining the long, slender lines and the effect of molded hips, skirts gen- erally begin to widen above the knees, flounces are set on at a high- .er level or godets are imposed near- er the waistline. This influence is j noted not only in the evening mode i but is prevalent in late models of all types, particularly in coats, {| The shades of night are revealing imuch black and white, pink, blue, and green, One of the most start. ling color schemes for which popu- ‘larity is predicted because of its | ready acceptance among fashionable ' notables here is the wearing of long, | tobacco brown suede gloves with evening gowns. This innovation was sponsored by Worth Spring collection. < in his recent | —The exercise for reducing the : wrists is a simple backward and for- | ward movement. It can be done by ! placing the elbows firmly on a table ior on the arms of a chair. This done | let the hands fall forward from the i wrists, raise them until the fingers | point upward, the palms are flat and facing upward. Bend the hands for- ward again and continue doing this | rapidly until you tire. Then, still : resting the elbows, rotate the hands i from the wrists twenty times to the I'd been the trusted old friend, with | twenty-four hours later dashed into | right 2nd twenty times io the lest, a vengeance! When she’d finished establishing her ascendancy over him Mildred began to behave as though she were almost fond of poor, doting Tom. The last time I met them they (were coming out of Boucheron's. Mildred told me it was the anniver- sary of their wedding day. “ ‘Seven years! says Tom, ‘and I swear she grows more lovely each i day!’ ” My cousin, who is incapable of calculating without the use of as least one set of fingers, tapped out a rapid sum on her knee. “May, June, July,” she murmured. “It was in July, three months after , this meeting, that I heard there was & fresh outbreak of the old trouble over Rodney. You'd have thought Mildred would have learned her les- son, wouldn't you? And Tom, for i the matter of that? They hadn't! | “Mildred wrote that Tom was be- coming jealous again; and she, ap- parently, was being obstinate. Each was beginning to say that this couldn’t go on, that rights must be upheld and feet must be put down. Soon Mildred was saying, in the very phrase I'd warned him to expect, that she'd give Tom something to ‘cry for. Tom was saying he wouldn't trust her farther than he could see her. “That gave Mildred her opportun- ity. She reminded him of the time ‘when he'd returned unexpectedly in the hope of finding her with Rodney. ‘And all the time,’ she told him, ‘I was with my masseuse in Bath, as Ican prove! I hoped that would cure you of being suspicious, but apparently you're incorrigible.’ I have the let- ter somewhere. It’s the wildest out- pouring, written in her room, with the door locked against Tom and her maid packing for dear life. It was . the last letter but one that I ever had from her. «I wrote a frantic reply, begging her to be sensible. To my amaze- ment, it was returned unopened, with a note from Tom—in the third per- son and ungrammatical at that— saying that, as he now knew what I meant by friendship he would be glad if I would cease to hold any kind of communication either with himself or with his wife. This to the womaf who'd saved them both from ship- wreck! «But his effort was eclipsed hy Mildred's. She wrote a day or two | afterward to gay that, while she abominated liars at all times, she abominated most those who consid- ered it necessary or expedient to lie in her defense.” i “And that,” I asked, “is the whole story ?” | “Tt isn't a story,” Theresa reiter- | ated petulantly. “You may call it, if you like, an odd freak in masculine psychology—" |= “Or feminine,” I suggested, in de- 'fense of my own sex, “Whatever we call it, I think you've earned some luncheon.” | “The sight of those two has simply taken away my appetite,” sighed Theresa. . I pointed toward the Galeries Flueries. “Let's see if we can charm it back wish a cocktail,” I suggested. «I don’t feel I deserve a cocktail. T've done nothing all the morning ex- : sit in a chair and gossip to “Then let us take some exercise by walking around the Galeries. In one other of those most engaging little shops I hope you may see something that you would condescend to acept as a reminder of this most agreeable ‘day. And, Theresa,” I added, “I trust I may never again hear you describing yourself as a woman who sold her soul and got nothing in re- turn.” “You don’t think that perjury im- perils one’s immortal soul?” my cou- sin inquired. “you cannot divorce the act from the motive that inspired it,” I an- swered, “or from the result which it produced. However badly you were treated, it is due to you and you alone that those young people are still, more or less happily, united. I | suppose somebody has to be thrown to the wolves.” “She gets the emeralds,” Theresa muttered. “Do you begrudge them ?” My question failed to elicit a direct answer. “She'll leave him,” my cousin pre- dicted, “when she can’t get anything more out of him.” After completing this routine, ap. | Cumberland, Md, having traversed & ply a liberal amount of the campho: . distance of 132 miles. Occasionally : ang h i there were delays, but these were 150d leon Sng Loto oo the inot permissible upon the completion | well as the wrists, extend the re. of the Baltimore and Ohio road to Cumberland. A way mail coach, which both de- | posited and received mail at all sta- tions, left Wheeling at 7 a. m., each day. Despite its extra duties it managed to overtake the through mail before entering Cumberlénd. Ohio river steamboats arrived at Wheeling as late as 10 a. m. with passengers booked for the train to leave Cumberland at 6 o'clock the next morning. One hundred and thirty-two miles up hill and down hill, fording rivers and crossing mountains, but connection must be made; and it was, though at a heavy cost to the company, Such fast trips, however, could only be indulged in by the wealthier classes. “Stage drivers were ambitious. A true test of their mettle was the de- livery of the President's message. The letting of contracts by the Post Office Department hinged on these deliveries, and if a driver failed to make good time it meant the can- cellation of the contract with his employers,. and the transfer to a rival company. Dave Gordan, a not- ed driver, - once carried the Presi- dent’s message from Washington to Wheeling, a distance of thirty- two miles in two hours and twenty minutes. He changed teams three times in this distance. Bill Noble, who died in the '80’s I believe claim- ed to have made the best time on record. He professed to have driven from Wheeling to Hagerstown, Md, 185 miles, in fifteen and a half hours. “In 1852 coaching began to de- cline. In that year the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad was completed £6 Wheeling, and thereafter stages to and from Cumberland were hauled by two horses instead of four. Finally there was only an aged-look- ing coach plying between Washing- ton and Brownsville, 24 miles east. The dog trot of yesterday is a mis- erable contrast to the quick time of modern busses. In olden days driv- ers’ orders were to make the time o- kill the horses. Teams were driven ten miles at a full run. If a horse dropped he was quickly un- harnessed, and if unable to travel further was drawn aside, and the journey resumed.” cement. ENGLISH LAW DEMANDED ATTENDANCE AT CHURCH, Sunday holiday makers and trip- pers will be interested to know that a statutory law in England years ago prohibited such frivolity, says the London Daily Mail. The Act of Uniformity, 1552, requires: All per- sons, except those dissenting from the worship of doctrines of the Church of England and usually at- tending some place of worship not belonging to the Church of England, are, if they have no lawful or rea- : deavor to attend their parish church {or accustomed chapel, or, if reason- | ably prevented from so doing, some other place where the divine service of the Church of England is per- i formed, on all Sundays and other ! days ordained and used to be kept {as holy days, and to abide there | orderly and soberly during the time { of common prayer, preaching, or | other divine service there performed. | Failure to observe this law renders ! the offending “parishioner or inhabi- | tant of a parish” who is not legally ' exempt from atttendance at divine | service on Sundays and holy days | “liable in proceedings taken against ‘him in the ecclesiastical courts to be censured for the offense, ad- | monished as to his attendance in the i future, and to be condemned in the ' costs of the proceedings.” sonable excuse for absence, to en- | «you don’t suppose she's learned { her lesson?” Theresa emitted a hoot of derisive ! laughter: ‘Mildred? How little I've | peen able to make you understand! ! The only person who has learned | anything from this business is my- | geif.” | «And you——?” My courage fail- | ed me before I reached the end of ! my question. | «1 ghan't sell my soul again,” | Theresa declared with noticeable de- — From the Public Ledger. cision. | | —Subscribe for the Watchman. ducing lotion applications to cover: these members. The exercise should be taker twice daily and always should be followed by the reducing lotion ap. plications. To make the reducing lotion add two one-ounce cakes of camphor (finely shaved) to one quar of rubbing alcohol. Let stand in an airtight containe: for twenty-four hours. Always pal this lotion on. Rubbing produce: friction and frequently makes the skin burn. This is not especially harmful, but since it can be avoid ed, why not? —The abundant use of nourish ing cream should be used to fil out the hands and wrists if they ar: too thin, Wrists rarely need thi: attention, but hands frequently do The bones sohuld be covered wit] sufficient flesh to give the hands : rounded soft contour, but not enougl to make them appear pudgy or fat. Spreading the fingers as far apar as you can, bringing them togethe and then spreading them again, re peated over a period of three o four minutes, acts as an exercis which will help to develop the mus cles of the hands and fingers. Bu this is not sufficient to fill out reall scrawny hands, and so the exercis must be finished off with nourishin cream. Cocoa butter is one of the bes known nourishing elements, but fre quently the process is slow unles some means of making the coco butter penetrate in a larger quant ty than it normally does is found. Holding the hands in very wan water, not hot, tends to open th pores and thus enables cocoa butte to penetrate more quickly and i larger amounts. Then, too, gent! but continued massage after a lil eral application of cocoa butter aic materially. If you want to use tt lanolin, cocoa butter and miner: oil nourishing cream it is splendi but on hands where the tissues ai less delicate the plain cocoa butte will be sufficient if you use plenty « it and massage it well into the ski: To massage begin at the tips « the fingers and smooth the finge: i of the other hand gently down f{ i the wrists. Make the pressure fir: but not harsh and the skin must } well covered with cocoa butter that the fingers slip easily. —The most convenient height f a kitchen table surface is eight i ches below the workers’ elbow. —A bread that never grows sta and that is quite equal to cake serve for luncheon, supper or ti popular afternoon tea, sounds like | fairy tale, but the following test: | recipes are guaranteed to be su | breads. The secret of the first re ommendation is that it “keeps” f { four or five days in a crock or ti | bread box, and the second is owl | to the fruits and nuts, that go in | its construction. | Oatmeal Rasin Bread.—Wash o ! cupful of seedless raisins and m with three cupfuls of rolled oa ! distributing thoroughly. Pour ov “one quart of boiling water and a | three tablespoonfuls of dark mole i ses and one scant tablespoonful ! salt. Mix well and allow the mi ture to stand until lukewarm. D | solve one yeast cake in a quarter ‘a cupful of tepid water and be ‘into the other ingredients; then s {in enough white flour to form i dough that can be kneaded. If i bread mixer is used, the dou { should leave the sides in a good fii { pall. This is necessary, as it see) | to grow less stiff by standing. | low the dough to rise until double bulk (about one and a half hours {a warm place) then form ir { loaves, place in three greased pe { and when again double in bulk ba 'in a moderate oven (about | degrees) for one hour. In baking, 'is well to remember that this bre i will scorch more quickly than | | ordinary loaf. ' This bread should not be cut : | 24 hours after it is made and 1 \ splendid food values for the grc | ing child, as well as grown ups tl ; spend most of their time in office a coc eee—— —We do good job work promi
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