■sitter's Way.
Olt within our little cottage,
As the shadows gently tall,
While the sunlight tonohos softly
One sweet roioe upon the walk
Do we gather close together,
And in hushed and tender tone,
Ask each other's full forgiveness
For the wi ong that each has done.
Should yon wonder why this cus torn
At the ending ol each day,
■ye and voice would quickly answer,
" It was once our mother's way!"
II ear homo he bright and cheery,
II it bold a welcome true,
Opening wide its door ol greeting
To the many—not the lew;
II we shares our Father's bounty
With the needy, day by day,
Tis because our hearts remember
This was ever mother's way.
Sometimes when our hearts grow weary,
Or oar task seems very long.
When our burdens look too heavy,
Aad we deem the right all wrong,
Then we gain anew Irosh courage,
Aa we rise and proudly say,
" Let us do our duty bravely—
This was our dear mother's way."
Ihua we keep her megnory precious.
While we never erase to pray
That at last when length'ning shadows
Mark the evening ol lilo's day,
They may find us waiting calmly
To go home our mother's way.
HOW I BECAME THE FASHION.
AH ENGLISH STOUT.
I was born abcAUty; from tho time I
could talk and understand, it was in
stilled into me aa a fact. W ben I !could
toddle about, some judicious person,
probably a nurse, gave me the name of
" Beauty," and it stuck to me ever after.
I don't think I was inordinately proud
of my distinction, although even in
childhood it makes a difference, but it
seems to me as I look back that my at
tractions were made use of by my
brothers and sisters for their own
benefit. They were always sending me
to beg a holiday on the plea that " Papa
won't refuse Benuty," or later on to get
leave to go to this or that place of amuse
ment, for " Mamma, is sure to let Beauty
have her way."
It's a wonder I wasn't quite spoiled,
but I don't think I was; at least no
such accusation was ever made, even
when sisterly civilities were being Inter
changed. We were a large family,
principally girls, all presentable except
my eldest sister, Matilda; she had no
looks to speak about, but she made it up
a superabundance of brains—she
was the family headpiece, a sort of
plateau to be relied upon on all state
occasions. She certainly was a remark
able woman; her one idea was to push
one's self foward in life.
How angry she was when I married
Charley! She was at Gibraltar settline
my brother Edmund in his appointment,
and I was Mrs. Redeor b-fore she came
back. Charley wa - a captain with good
prospects of getting on, but Matilda
made him sell out and put his money
into a new company started to provide
Venice with tram c irs; after that we
came up to town, because Mnlilda said
that with my beauty and Charley's con
nections London was the place for us.
We were sure to push our way; but
curiously enough, we didn't. Charley's
connections belonged to the Ply mouth
Brothers and Sisters, and my good looks
were quite thrown away on people who
wore poke bonnets. There was one
old man, a grand-uncle of Charley's,
who had live 1 in the regency days, and
said I was the image of Dolly Bloom
field, whoever she might be.
A year or so pae-d very quietly, and
then Matilda caine up to see how we
were getting on. She was very indig
nant when she found that ws had made
no way, and aoclded us foundly for our
supineuess.
" I have no patience with either of
you," she said. " With Beauty's looks
and the Redcar connection you ought
to be at the very top of the tree." And
then we explained to her about the
Plymouth Brethren.
" But there's Charley's godfather's
wife; she has nothing to say to trade or
meeting-houses, because I see her parties
every week in the Mrrrximg Auk," said
my sister with a look which meant:
'Too cant impose on me; if Beaoty
were only seen there she'd soon push
her way.'
Charley looked at me and I looked at
Charley, and then we both burst out
laughing. It was a mortifying confes
sion, but the truth was we had been at
Charley's wife's godmother's—no, 1
mean Charley's godfather's wife—mora
than once, and nothing had come of my
" being seen there "but the bills we had
o pay for the dreg I wore and the car
riage.
Matilda looked very glum when we
told Iter this. " I don't see what you
are laughing at," she said, crossly. "No
one but a fool would find amusement in
their own failure." This was very
severe, but Matilda was awfully put
out, and in the svrning, when iCbar'ey
had gone to the "Rag" to have his
smoke, she spoke very seriously to me. j
" I don't like the look of thing*," she
said. " I sin uirtiit be at ai] surprised
if those Venetian tram shares don't come
to much. The people there are to tilly.
they prefer thefgondo ae, and if they go
own where will joo ba?"
"Good fgraoioua! Mxtilda, I thought
you recommended them, and said they
would double our income."
"And haven't they done so, you silly
thing? All you have to do is to put
our shoulder to the wheel, nnd push
Charley, and that will make it all right.
As for him, he is a regular stick in the
mud. So you must do it yourself."
"IP Why what in the world can I
do?"
" Make yourself the fashion I" said my
sister, oracularly.
The next day Matilda, Charley, and I
went to see the pictures at the R. A. It's
a iong way fron Inverness Terrace to
Piccadilly, particularly on a hot day, so
we went In an omnibus. I don't mind
an omnibus, but Matilda thinks it's a
disgrace to be seen in one. She has a
prov ncial idea that every one knows
her. She sits far back with her veil
drawn in a tight little ball over her
nose, which makes her ever so much
more remarkable. This day in particu
lar she was in a great fright and was
very indignant with Charley and me,
who were laughing at the faces she
made.
When she got out Bhe said: "To
think that our Beauty should be brought
down to sit with washerwomen in an
omnibus!"
Charley flushed up. He's the most
good-humored fellow in the world,
but he doesn't like Matilda. "She
should drive in a coach with six horses,
if I could give it to her," he said; " but
she knew I was a poor man when she
took mo."
"And liked you all the better." cried I,
gayly, as I pressed his arm affectionate
ly; but Matilda only snorted. I heard
her mutter: "A pair of fools!"
The Academy was very full that day,
and I thought it a great bore. Neither
Charley nor I care much for pictures,
but Matilda says she understands
"color." She goes round religiously
with her catalogue and pencil and marks
the good ones. She leaves it on the
drawing-room table when she goes
home, and holds forth to the country
people upon the " flesh tints " of MiUais,
and the " deep impasto" of Burne
Jones.
I soon got tired, so I sat down ne r the
passage leading to the refreshment room.
I always think the lunch is about the
best thing at the pictures. IBut they
seemed never to be coming. For some
time I amused myself looking at the
people; they were a shifting mass of
faces and dresses, and I was greatly
diverted. By-and-bye I began to observe
that the crowd when they came to a
certain picture stood there, forming a
regular line, a3 thoy did for Miss
Thompson. It was awfully hot, and I
had tAken off my veil and pushed up my
hat, for my forehead was burning. Sud
denly I noticed that a great many people
turned their backs upon the picture, and
looked at me, and then faced round
again to the canvas wall. In my
character of Beauty I have been all my
life pretty well accustomed to the sort of
homage conveyed by what is called
" hard staring," so that it must have
been an undue amount of it which at
tracted my attention; but surely I had
never seen any like this. Groupsof two,
three, six at a lime would stand before
me, calmly surveying me, and, I could
gather by their gestures, talking of me.
But I didn't hear what they said. I be
came very anxious to see the pic
ture which attracted such attention,
but the block round it was too great.
The next best thing was to ask for in
formation. It was some time before I
could pitch upon a person fitting for this
purpose. At last a very quiet-looking
lady came near me. Sho had a catalogue
in her hand. I addressed her. "May I
ask you to tell me the name of the pic
ture at which every one is looking?"
She turned to the book, hut first glanced
at me; then hurried on, and I saw her a
few minutes afterward pointing me out
to some of her friends. I felt extremeiy
uncomfortable. I looked about anx
iously for Charley and Matilda, hut
there was no sign of cither. Then, I
did a very foolish thing; I got up to go
and look for them, principally to escape
from the numberless eyes fixed upon
me.
To my surprise the crowd ma;C way
at once, and, as I 'walked, followed me,
pressing very closely upon mo, but not
discourteously. I could hear some of
the remarks, which were of the most
flattering description. Just then I saw
in the distance a brother officer ol
Charley's, a certain Captain Winton.
lie was a hanger-on and toady of the
great, and a most conceited, tiresome
little creature. I disliked him, although
I'm bound to say he never absolutely
cut us.
He now stopped to speak to me; of
course, he was politely indifferent as to
the loss of my party.
"I would help you to look for Charley,"
he said; " but the fact is the Duchess of
Cranberry 1b here, and she's quite on
the qui vive. Some one has told [her
that the original of the picture is actu
ally in the room, and, of course, it would
be everything to secure her for the 30th,
and—"
Here I interrupted him rather rudely,
but be is such a bore.
" I wonder," I said—but here I was
in my turn interrupted. Two gentle
men on one side, two on the other,
lapped Captain Winton on each shoul
der.
"Will you kindly introduce me?" said
one.
" And me?" said the other.
"And me?"
" And me?"
Little Winton stared, but did aa he
was bid.
"Lord Snappinvton —Mrs. Redcar;
Colonel Fotberinghnm—Mrs. Redcar;
Sir John De Tahley Mrs. Redcar;
Mk>r Bcaulieu—Mrs. Redcar. Beau-
lieu, I think you know Charley Redcar;
he was one of ouraP"
In right of this acquaintance,
Beaulicu walked on my right hand;
Lord Snappington fought hard to keep
bis place on my left, but the crowd,
which persistently followed in my wake,
would not let him. Hardly any conver
sation was possible. At tho tirßt con
venient pause, little Winton darted for
ward :
"My dear Mrs. Redcar, how sly you
have been! And Charley, too, never
breathed a word of this! Now, you
must come at once to the'duchess; I
have her positive orders." And, be
fore I could take in what ho meant, I
was being introduced to a very largo
lady, with a high nose, and a most
charming manner.
" I am so pleased to know you. Mrs.
Redcar," BIIC said. " I am obliged to
hurry away; but you will come to me
on the 20th, won't you? I haven't
time to Bay half the pretty things I
ought; but really, without flattery, it
isn't equal! There, now, I'll no
another word. Stay; could you come
to me this evening? It's shockingly
informal, but you don't look formal.
EhP WhatP"— in answer to a whisper
from little Winton—"of course, Cap
tain Redcar, by all means—that is, ii
he will givo me the pleasure. I have
to run away—so sorry. My carriage,
Captain Winton, if you please. Good
bye." And, with a pretty amile and a
bow, she vanished.
It was all so sudden I felt quite
stunned. " I don't understand it,"
I eaid. " I don't know her, or what
she wants with me."
" That's tho Duchess of Cranberry,
She's a great friend of Masse's, and her
wonderful party is to be on the2otb."
"But what does she want with me?"
I repeated.
They all smiled, and Winton, who
had just come back, said "Capital!"
He volunteered to go and look for Char
ley, and suggested to one of the gentle
men to see about my carriage.
"The Duchess is delighted," he said,
" and thanked mo so much for the in
troduction. No wonder, it makes the
whole thing complete. Didn't Ido well
about Charley? It wouldn't do at all
for him to be in the background. But.
listen. I have a hint for your private
ear. I shouldn't be at all surprised if
a certain person is there this evening."
"Where?"
"Oh! at the Duchess's, of course. I
just give you the hint. Throw over
any engagement, do you hear? And
mind you bring Chancy." And witli a
grave face he went.
For a minute or two I felt inclined to
cry. I had had no luncheon, and this
extraordinary adventure puzzled me.
I looked round at my escort of four
gentlemen. " I should like to go home,"
I said.
Lord Snappington immediately of
fered me his arm. Major Beaulieu
brought my parasol—the other two ran
for my carriage. "I haven't any, in
deed," I went on; "I think you take
me for some one else."
At this they all laughed, and Lord
Snappington said would I honor him
by making use of his? He didn't want
it for the rest of the afternoon, if I
liked to drive. He was so pressing that
I reallv couldn't refuse to go to Inver
ness Terrace in it. although I hardly ex
pected the wonderful fool man to know
where it was.
I declare when I found myself in the
carriage quite alone I rubbed my eyes
and pinched my fingers. I could hardly
help thinking that 1 had fallen asleep
and had dreamt all this, but just as I
was pinching myself hard I saw Charley
and Matilda standing on the pavement
in Piccadilly, looking very hot and un
comfortable. I put my head out of the
window and called to the grand coach
man to stop.
The man looked at me very wickedly,
but I didn't care. I jumped out, and
never felt more pleased than when I got
hold of Charley's arm and the fine car
riage had driven away empty.
Anything like the amazement of
Charley and Matilda, when they heard
my adventure, I never saw. They
couldn't make head nor tail of it any
more than myself; only one thing was
clear to me, that I most get home and
hare something to eat. 1 was so faint
with excitement and hunger. We all
made up our minds that it was a mis
take of some kind. We went carefully
through the catalogue, but there was
nothing there. Charley proposed ran*
ning into Mrs. Smithers nt No. 10 (she
sets up to bo artistic), but Matilda said
no—not on any account —the thing was
to keep our own counsel. Matilda was
all for our going to the duchess's. She
said it didn't matter, mistake or no mis
take. She had asked me to her house
in my own proper person and under my
own proper name, and there was no im
position or forcing myself In on my
side. Charley said the same, and added
that at all events it would be fun —so
we went. Charley burst out laughing
in the carriage- be said bis godfather's
wife would get a fit when she heard that
wo bad been to Cranberry house. But
I think ho got nervous when we were
actually inside, f know I felt ready to
sink into the earth when we walked up
the grand staircase through lines of
powdered footmen. It seemed to me so
utterly absurd. The first person I saw
was Lord Snappington near the door.
He seemed like an old friend; and
presently Colonel Beaulieu joined
us. He seemed to know Charley
very well, although Charley says
they haven't done more than nod
these ten years; but be was very
friendly, and asked us to drivejdown on
his coach to the Orleans next day. I
was very pleased, for Charley bad been
wishing to go and—so had I.
After a time little Winton came up in
a great fuss, and said the duchess was
asking for me, and that 1 was to go into
the boudoir. I didn't, of course, know
where that was, but Lord Snapplngton
gavo mo liis arm and said he would take
me there. As we walked along, I
heard a great many people whispering
together: "There she is, on Lord Snap
pington's arm." I was dying to know
what it all meant, and I would have
asked Lord Snappington then and there,
only that Matilda's last words had been:
" Mind you ask no questions. Just take
everything as it comes." Still I think I
would have said something, but just
then we got into the boudoir, and there
was the same lady I had scon in the
morning, only looking much grander,
and with the most lovely diamonds on
her head. She had about twenty other
ladic sand gentlemen with her, and BIIC
was talking to a personage whom 1
recognized at once, and my knees
knocked together with fright.
"Oh! here is Mrs. Redcar!" cried the
duchess; " now we have her we shall
ail right."
The certain Person put a glass to his
eye and looked at me:
" Fond of swinging, Mrs. Redcar?"
much in tho manner Charley would
have said it. And then every cnc began
to laugh. I laughed too, although I
had no idea why.
" Do you swing much?" the Person
age went on. still surveying me through
the glass earnestly.
I hadn't swung since I was a child,
ar.d I thought it a very odd question,
but, before I had time to answer, the
duchess struck in.
" My swinging party comes off on the
20th, and I have given directions
to have a rose-colored swing put up for
Mrs. Redcar."
There was a general chorus of appro
bation, and I really began to think I had
got among a set of lunatics. Just then
some music began in the next room,
and there was a move toward it. The
certain person lingered a moment.
" Duchess! I shall certainly come to
your swinging party on the 20th
for the pleasure of Beeing Mrs. Redcar
i the rose-colored swing." He smiled
p.asantiyat me as he spoke, did this
Great Mun. and strolled lazily out of
the boudoir.
When he was goneevery one crowded
round me. I'm sure I made twenty ac
quaintances and had twenty invitations
in as many minutes.
Ail the rest of the evening was one
whirl of pleasure. Charley enjoyed it
quite as much as I did, and we both
agreoa that after all good company is
nicer than and quite as cheap as. any
other.
In the middle of the night Charley
awoke me by another loud tit of laugh
ter. " I can't help it, Reauty." he said,
"but I can't got over godfather's wife
when she hcarß of our being on easy
terms with the best in the land."
It was most surprising. There {was
certainly no doubt on that point.
The next morning we had just done
breakfast when, to our surprise, Char
ley's godfather's wife drove up. Ma
tilda had just time to give us a word ol
caution when she came in, all laces and
ribbons, bangles and chains—so unlike
the duchess. She made straight at me.
"Mv dear," she said, and kissed me on
both cheeks; "how sly of you!" and
then she kissed me.
Just then there came another knock
at the door, and one of Charley's uncles
(a very great manufacturer, with works
at the Fast End) was announced. He was
a good man. and I liked him, hut his face
was extra long this morning. He took
Charley and me aside:
" Is this true?" he said, and he thrust
a copy of the Whitehall Review into my
hand, pointing to this paragraph:
" I am glad to tell my readers that the
charming original ol Monsieur Henri
Masse's famous picture of " Love in a
Swing" is among us. She is not a
Frenchwoman, but English born and
bred—Mrs. Redcar, wife of Captain
Charles Redcar, late of the Tenth regi
ment; and we may well be proud of
our lovely countrywoman. This puts
an end to the countless stories which
have been floating about since the pic
ture appeared. It is to the Duchess of
Cranberry (Monsieur Masse'sold friend)
that we owe this addition to the ranks
of the Reauties. Mrs. Redcar appears
under the duchess's wing. She made
her debut at the Cranberry house soiree
last night, and was hugely admired."
So much for the truth of report.
After all, then, thene was no harm in it,
and although at first I didn't like sail
ing under false colors, still Matilda per
suaded me it would be foolish to make
a fuss; I bad only to bold my tongue
and l?t the fashionable world and the
fashionable newspapers tell as many lies
as they pleased. I did so. I became
the fashion. After the duchess's swing
ing party on the 2<)th of June. 1879,
my position was assured. No one can
be more fashionable than I nm. Under
Matilda's directions I am trying bar.:
to push Charley on. If I succeed I will
tell you all about it. — Whitehall Review.
A recently Imported walking dress is
of dark amber-colored corded silk and
embossed velvet of a shade to match.
The first skirt Is slashed and laced over
inserted pufis of the velvet. The over
dress hangs perfectly straight on the
right side, and at the left is laoed across
with cords and spikes of amber color
flecked with geld. At the back is a
drapery edged with velvet and facings of
the silk. The silk bodice opens over a
long waistcoat of the embossed material
brightened by Japanese buttons of gilt.
The long sleeves are finished with re
vere laoed over puffs of the velvet.
FARM, HARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD.
Farm ami Warden Wotee.
Sunflowers are recommended in the
Dutchess Farmer for bean poles, planting
them at a suitable distance in the garden
and planting the beans around them
when three or four inches high.
liCt the surplus straw be stacked in
the yards. If the stock have a picking
at this, it will answer well the purpose
of noon feeding; and will also keep the
animals on tho move to their warmth
and growth. The Btraw scattered by
such a plan is not wasted.
Every gardener and farmer should
have a compost heap; and upon it pile
up every sod and rubbish within his
reach that would make manure. It will
pay.
The German custom cf planting fruit
trees on either side of public highways
is a good one. These trees are pruned
and otherwise cared for by the road
hands. They furnish shade and fruit to
the weary travelers, and constitute a
humane provision worthy of imitation
in 11 Christian lands.
As an Insect destroyer the juice of
the tomato plant is said to be of great
value; the leaves and stems are well
boiled in water, and when the liquid is
cold it is Bprinkkd over plants attacked
with insects, when it at once destroys
caterpillars, black and green flies, gnats
and other enemies to vegetables, and in
no way impairs the growth of the
plants. A peculiar odor remains and
prevents insects from coming again for
a long time.
One of the best things in the world to
give a horse, after ho lias been driven,
is a quart of oatmeal stirred into a pail
of water. It refreshes and strengthens
him, relieves his immediate thirst, and
prepares his stomach for more solid
food. It is like the plate of soup before
dinner, satisfying and appetizing to
gether.
H. Stewart writes to the Country den
llcman regarding butter as follows:
There is no doubt that sour cream will
make better flavored and more solid
butter, and more of it than sweet cream;
the butter will keep longer in good con
dition. Sweet cream butter is excellent,
and may be exquisite, if very well made,
for immediate use, but it deteriorates
very rapidly, while sour milk butter im
proves by keeping for several weeks, ii
weil made and well kept. But neither
the milk nor the cream should be per
mitted to "clabber."
Plants in pots on balconies, in win
dows, or in situations exposed to th
direct influence of the rays of the sun,
are often half and sometimes altogether
killed by the root-roasting to which
they are subjected, the surface of the
pots often becoming so heated that the
hand cannot be placed upon them with
out being burned. The poor roots, that
generally hug the sides of the pots
closely, have, indeed, a sorry time of it
under these conditions.
"Can fruit trees be grown for their
timber as well as for their fruit?" was
the somewhat novel question up for
discussion nt a recent meeting of a
horticultural society. Cherry timber,
it was argued, makes beautiful furniture
and brings in market almost as good a
price as docs walnut. The pear was said
to be in demand by millwright?, though
this wood is nearly worthless for gen
eral farm purposes. The apple, it was
claimed, is in demand by last-makers
and turners of wooden ware. When
fruit trees are grown with a view to
timber as well as fruit, high trimming
was recommended.
To Keep Seed Fare,
We have the oft-repeated testimony of
many farmers, who have tried the ex
periment, that changing the localitvoi
seed increases productiveness of many
kinds of crops. It is therefore reasonable
(although the why and wherefore is not
generally understood) that there is
something in it, although, after ail, I
think that equally good if not better re
sults may be obtained by a judicious
system of selection, culture and rotation
on different sections of the same farm.
It is my opinion, corroborated by ex
perience and observation, that a system
of selecting seed and planting only the
most perfect of its kind, would obviate
all difficulty and complaint of poor
crops and seed, arising from this source.
For example, in planting potatoes plant
none less in sise (and those whole) thaa
jhen's egg. and no overgrown tubers,
and follow this with a regular rotation,
not growing related crops on the same
ground oftener than onoe in three to five
years. Select the best, most perfect ker
nels of wheat, sowing only such; also
the beat and moat perfect of all kinds
of seeds, taking pains to save from the
new representatives of the variety. In
stead of deterioration, as we often hear,
improvement in both quantity nnd qual
ity will then result. I know farmers
who, instead of pursuing such a course,
sell the best becauso it brings a better
price in the market, and then they go to
others for seed, or plant such as is Jeft
of their own after the best is disposed of,
and then, complain that their crops de
teriorate, whereas, had they pursued tho
course indicated above, in a few years
their crops as well as their purses would
greatly improve.—lF. H. White, in the
Country Oentleman.
RUUM Baiter.
Professor Arnold says that butter
gathered in the churn always contains
more or less buttermilk, which would
aoon spoil the butter if not removed.
There are two ways of removing it—one
is by kneading in water or brine, and
the other by kneading it without water.
One is called washing, the other work
ing. The former removes it much more
rapidly than the latter. The flavor of
the butter which has been washed is
different from that which haa not been
washed. The difference between washed
and unwashed 'nuttor ia analogous to
the difference between claslfied sugar
and unclarified. The former consists of
pure saccharine matter; the latter ol
HUKar and Home albuminoun and flavor
ing matters, which are oontained in the
nice of the cane mingled with it, which
give a flavor in addition to that of Hugar.
Hrown sugar, though less sweet, has
more flavor than clarified sugar. W hen
unwashed, there is aiways a little but
termilk and sugar adhering to the but
ter that gives it a peculiar flavor, in ad
dition to pure butter, hwchi many peo
ple like when it is new. Washing re
move! all this foreign matter, and leaves
only the taste of the butter, purs
and simple. The assertion is often
made, and rnaßy people believe, that
water washes out the flavor of ths
butter; but It only cleanses the buttsrof
the buttermilk, sugar and milk acid
which may adhere to it, just as clarify
ing sugar removes from it the foreign
matter which modifies its true flavor.
The flavor of butter consists of fatty
matter which do not combine with
water, therefore cannot be washed by it.
The effect of washing upon the keeping
quality of butter depends upon the purity
of the water with which the washing is
done. If the water contains no foreign
matter that will affect the butter it will
keep better for washing the buttermilk
out than by kneading it out.
Iroa for Kruli Traea.
An exchange says that " the scales
which fly off from iron being worked at
forges, iron trimmings, filings or other
ferruginous material, if worked into the
soil about fruit trees, or the more minute
particles spread thinly on the lawn,
mixed with tie earth or flower-beds or
in pots, are most valuable. They are
especially valuable to the peach and
pear, and in fact supply necessary in
gredients to the soil. For colored
flowers they heighten the bloom and in
crease the brilliancy of white or nearly
white flowers of all the rose family.
lIMIDM.
MOONSHINERS. — Take the whites o
eggs and beat to a stiff froth.rsweetening
it with one tablespoonful of powdered
sugar, and flavoring it with orange
flower water. Have a saucer of sweet
ened cream and drop a 'spoonful of the
froth upon it. Very delicate land palat
able.
BUNS.— One cup of milk, one cup of
sugar, one cup of yeast, ffour to make a
batter. Let it rise over night, then add
one-half cup of melted butter, a cup of
sugar, flour to knead it, and let it rise
again, then roll and cut into cakes, and
let it rise again.
APPLE SNOW.— Put twelve apples in
cold water and set them over a slow
tire; when soft drain them, take off ths
peelings, core them and put them in a
deep dish; beat the whites of twelve
eggs to a >tiff froth, put half a pound
of sugar in the apples, beat them light
and then beat in the wtiite.
CRULLERS.—TWO cupsful of sugar,
one cupful of butter, three eggs, three
cupsful of flour, one cupful sweet milk,
a small tcaspoonful cream of tartar in
the flour, a small half tcaspoonful of
soda in the milk; one tablespoonful
cinnamon and nutmeg; mix smoothly,
roil and cut in any design, and boil in
hot lard.
APPLE SHORTCAKE.— FiII a squars
bread tin three-quarters full of sliced
sour apples; make a thick batter of half
a cupful of sour cream, half a cupful of
buttermilk, one teaspoonful of saieratus,
a little salt and flour to make quite stiff
—a little stiffer than cake. Turn this
vcr the apples; bake forty minutes,
and serve with sauce, or cream and
sugar flavored with nutmeg.
BPONE CAKE,— Three coffee-cupfuls
of flour, the same quantity of white
rugar, nine eggs and one lemon. Beat
the yolks and sugar lightly together,
add the juice of the lemon and a small
portion of the finely-grated rind; mix
thoroughly into the flour half a tea
spoonful of cream ol tartar; mix this
well also. To the yolks and sugar now
add half of the beaten whites; and tfcen
all the flour and the remainder of the
beaten whites.
SOUP.— Take of soup stock two
quarts, break two cges into some flour
and knoad it very siifl, roll out in thin
sheets to the thickness of wrapping
paper, spread on the table for one half
hour, then place them on each other
and roll up; with a sharp knife cut very
fine strips from the end, shake them
apart and add to your soup when hot,
stirring all the time, boil ten minutes,
season with pepper, salt aad celery, or
a little parsley.
DOUGHNUTS.— Heat one quart of new
milk, but do not let it boil; add two tea
cupfuls of lard and three cnpfuls the
same sise of sugar, cither white or a
light brown; when well melted, stir in
one cupful of yeast and enough flour to
form a thick sponge. Beat long and
well, and when the mass seems light
nnd full of bubbles stir into it the well
beaten yolk and white ot one egg.
When light, work well and let it rise
again; then roll and cut into shape;
boil in hot lard until brown.
A few facts not so generally known as
they should be: A watch fitted with a
second hand need not necessarily be a
second-hand watch. Doctors generally
agree about bleeding their patients.
Steam is a servant that sometimes blows
up its master. An ungrammatical judge
is apt to pass an incorrect sentence.
Any fool can make a woman talk, but
it's bard to make one listen. A thorn la
the bush is worth two in the hand.
A good soldier ts an easy catch. He
is always ready fjr an eng memert