WE SAT ON THE STOOP. | s hush of the country’s stillness, as falling on hill and vale, B tree, with its dark, green branches, Seemed to spread a sheltering wing, MWhen we sat on the stoop in the evening To hear the brown thrush sing. “The koneysuckle watted its fragrance + From its climb on the south porch door; And the sweet, rich scent of the new-mown hay : + Came afar—from the hizh barn floor; “The moon was new, and shining . Inizsquaint, half-circle ring, “When sve sab on the stoop in the evening To hear the brown thrush sing Fhe light and shallows tremble— The picture is fading—slow— anishing quite—into dreamland: The mystical dong ago, _A wave of thy wand, good fairy, at Yor the days when love was kingy) And we sat on the stoop in the ns ° 0 hear the brown thrush sing! Anna B. Lowell, in Boston Transcript. ER XETTY GLADIS CURTIS, BY MERASB MITCHELL. 41 was thinking of a compliment fo “pay you, so I have done it.” -. “*Really! Well, you are one of those + frierds who grow: pleazanter and pleas- ~anter till one—" £ip. a. That means I am to go; it “wants just ten minutes tn one.’ ¢i&g you like; but I did not sayp. a.” And Gladis ‘Curtis gave he head a proud little bend that said ‘‘Good-morn- oy as plain as could be to her compan- “Ton, who stood leaning lazily against the railing of the piazza, “watching her with Aig heart in Lis eyes, and a question on “the tip of his tongue. #May J come again at four?” ¢<If you like. I shall not be here, I am going with Jack Hilton for a paddle in his new canoe; but Miss H. W. C. Bacon, of Commonwealth avenue, Bos- “ton, Massachusetts, will grace this corner of the piazza at exactly 3 quarter past “four. 1 heard her say so.’ And Gladis prepared to answer a : ‘summons from her mother, who sat in ‘the cobl shade of the hotel parlor, where £he matrons and chaperons were wont 40 spend the mornings in select little ~eircles, each with its own particular Kind of fancy or charity work and topic ~of conversation. : Beverly Post escorted Giadis to the door, and there, with a smileand certain $ift of the hat that showed him to be a New Yorker, hie left her without a word, . for his heart was in a tumult. What had he said or not said, and what could she mean by substituting Miss Bacon for her own dear self? Now he came to think about it, Gladis “had not been at all like herself. ~~ What “was it? -Wis she tired or indifferent? Eeriaps a little of both, and yet there “had been times even that morning when “be felt certain that she cared for him. ‘What was it all about? And, lover- dike. he began blaming himself in the most bewildering way for all soris of im- -aginary faults—his dress, his walk, his _Anability B) appreciate certain things or people thay she liked. She had given him a little book to ~ wead—somebudy’s longings “or con- sditions; he could not remember the mame. That was a week ago, and she was probably waiting for his opinion; .and he had not looked at it, but had talked of stocks, elections and a bicycle .#rip his club had taken. = What did she Enow or care about such things? = And yet she had listened to him, and even pretended to be interested. He was one of New York’s most promising young lawyers, and was taking »a month’s vacation before entering on, -ghe great duties of life. A handsome man with dark eyes and .dhair, and a quick, responsive nature that was as honest and earnest in all its pur- “poses as men of Beverly Post’s birth, - education, and training are sure to be; ~and although the fortunate possesser of an independent income, he had not only «chosed a professions but thoroughly fitted himself to meet ils requirements He was just twenty-six when be first met ‘pretty Gladis Curtis,” as every one «called her; ‘‘and that was only ‘three ‘weeks ago’ he was saying to himself as he ran up the steps of his hotel, ~¢I will make a poor lawyer if Ido not”—and ‘here he hesitated, and blushing likke a «school-girl, ‘win this my frst case. In the mean time Gladis was listening @n an impatient sort of way to her amother’s little lecture abouf always ap- pearing with Mr. Post. , “You know wcll encuzh my dear, #hat I have decided to take you abroad mext season, and you do not know what ~chances there are in store for you. Mr. Post is very nice, but I have great hopes for you. We Lave been invited to visit dv. Mildale, and Mrs. Whitney has n telling me about, them, and how ily they entertain.’ g mamma, I do not think wou meed worry about Mr. Post; he is charmed with Miss Bacon, from Boston; he told me himself that he admired the ose of her head, and the intellectual warve of her lips, and that she had read Blackstone from begining to end. And asked him who the author of Black- stone was, and he’ actually laughed at . and said I had better ask Miss Bacon #0 lend me her copy. I wassoprovoked 4hat I assured him I could provide myself wreading. Oh dear! this dress er does go on as it ought to. There's ie lunch bell; and I am not nearly dv. Do go, mamma? : er her mother had: gone Gladis had le cry. Then she rearranged the g dress, and started down stairs, sd to ‘be ‘as unlike Miss Bacon possible to be, which, in truth, 06 be a difficult task, 5 ly child. ore she could remember. he who was rich, and if : Her father | Sea,” as the hotel was known to the folks year after year, which fact she could prove by the date on her veranda chair; for all permanent guests provided themselves with their own veranda chairs, and asserted their ownership by neat little cards bearing the owner's name, and often a date, as in Mrs. Cur- tis’s case, of old residenceship tied to the upper right-hand corner on the back of the chair. There was the judge’ chair, the ad- miral’s chair, the docter’s chair and Mrs. Lewis Longworth Curtis’s chair. The young people did not affect this fad, and never satin the ‘‘big bears’ chairs,” as Beverly irreverently named them; in fact, nothing so surely indi- '} cated a stranger to Bar Harbor and its | ways as taking possession of one of these '§ chairs. Gladis had been given every oppor- { tunity that good schools and a well-filled purse could provide. She was barely nineteen, a very handsome girl, with bright winning ways that made her a favorite with every one. | And although not a student as Miss Bacon was, she was bright and quick, and really knew and studied a great deal more than she admitted ; but the well-dressed comforta- ble out-of-door life of the place charmed her, and she had given herself over'to walking, driving, tennis, dancing, ca- noeing, as completely‘as it was possible, happier. But one day 4 little cloud’ sailed in, and with it came, first, , Beverly Post, and then Miss Bacon. Now Gladis would not atknowledze that she was jealous, that was too mean a feeling, and yet she was, and she really had no cause for she had never seen Beverly speaking to Miss Bacon; he had only spoken of her, and if she had stopped to analyze her feelings—as no done in her place—Gladis. would have been surprised to find that it was not of Miss Bacon personally she was jealous, but of Miss Bacon's accomplishments. For the little lady had beer through col- lege, understood perfectly five languages, had been all over Europe, written a prize essay on the inheritance of property, and, it was whispered, was reading law. A woman can forgive another “for being badly dressed, but it is hard to forgive superior knowledge; and so it was that although Gladis could find all sorts of excuses for Miss Bacon's plain sensible dressing, she could not excuse her for having “read Blackstone. i She was fretted and unreasonable, and, like Beverly, felt her imperfections. It had taken some time for her to ac- knowledge that she cared for Beverly, and the fact had not really come to her until his unfortunate remark cencerning the Boston girl's cleverness; that was more than a week age. At first it had the effect of making hera little thought. ful; then she had hunted up a package of books some one had sent her early in the season, and among which had been the book she had loaned to Beverly — Besant's *All Sorts and Conditions of Men.” Yes, she had read it, but felt sure not as carefully as Miss Bacon, would have done; in fact, she had hurried throngh with it 50 as to loan it to Beverly, with an idea of letting him sce that she could appreciate a good book. He had taken it because she had asked him to read it, but had forgotten that he had it until that ‘morning. Now he would read it. dragged, and he summed up his verdict long before it was time to appear at the club. Anyway, he would walk down to the hotel, and perhaps see Gladis, if only for a moment. He did nos thick of the time, or of what Gladis had told him of Miss Bacon, but took his seat near the front entrance of the hotel office, and waited. It was just ten minutes to four when Jack Hilton, a jolly captivating young man, drove up to the door in a hand- some cart,and, running up the steps and into the office, with a bright and cheery nod to Beverly, sent his card up to Miss Curtis. Beverly knew it was going to be a trying moment, but he determined not to run away; so he talked to Jack. ask- ing him all sorts. of foolish questions. Both men watched the stairway. ‘There she comes,” came involun- tarily from Jack's lips, in answer to Beverly's question if he knew Judge Dawson, and Jack went for a to meet the belle of the season. Gladis never Jooked _lovelier, in a a dainty white serge costume, with tan- colored cap, gloves and shoes. She was drawing on her gloves as she came toward them, and talking gayly to her mother. Perhaps she did not know that Miss Bacon was just behind her, in a plain Brown gown, her only bit of color being a soft pale blue ‘‘Liberty handker- chief” knotted loosely about her shoul- ders. Beverly never attempted to put himself forward, but stood up, bowing as Gladis passed him. Always before she had stood a moment and chatted with him, making some future engagement; but this time she had shown him at her first glance that she was going straight on. And she never had been so bewitch- ing and gay; and while paddling along Jack was beginning to think that such a companion would be delightful through life, and was half inclined to tell her so, when Gladis asked: “What time did you order the cart? Iam tired. I know I must return.’ afternoon, and it wants a good half-hour to sunset. Do let us paddle around that yacht before going in. » “¢No. You will excuse me. I want to return.” And Gladis sent the canoe forward with such strong, swift strokes that there could be no mistaking her in- tentions. The trip home was rather a quiet one, and it ould have been hard Tor either have understood | Gladis’s her heart that Beverly suite of rooms in. the «House by 16 4 pi wondering at times if life could be any. doubt quiet little Miss Bacon would have’ But some way the story But yon promised me the whole: full speed everywhere, so that she could not help being influenced; and then, too, Beverly might be watching her from the club » windows, and she certain- ly was not going to let him see her even appearing tired. There sat Miss Bacon, surrounded by a lot of children, to whom she was reading **Alice in Wonderland,” but Beverly was nowhere to be seen: After wandering about a bit she went to her room; and on her dressing table lay the book she had loaned Beverly, with a few sprays of golden rod. 4] did behave shamefully,” she thought; “and I will” tell him so to- night.” Then she pinned his flowers, the flowers he loved best—the golden- rod—in her belt and hair, and promised herself a happy evening. But how little we know of the hidden powers that are constantly either working for or against us! Gladis was barely out of sight that afternoon when a telegram was: put into Beverly's hand, and he, in the rush of sudden departure, had only time to leave the book and golden-rod while taking a polite farewell of Mrs. Curtis, who was just starting for an evening en- tertainment; so that Gladis did not know of his going, and was not only puzzled but anxious at his non-appearance, for she knew now that she loved Beverly, and had made up her mind to be goed to him in spite of everything; so,dressed in her loveliest evening costume and wearing his flowers, she watched for him as she never had before; playing the role of bewitcher to perfection, and capti- vating every one with her bright smile and witty sayings. The next day was one of Mount Deserts gloomiest days, and well suited Gladis’s feelings. She pleaded headache, and kept her room until sheer weariness of answering inquiries concerning her health and receiving Sowers and bonbons made her resolve to face her friends. Wise grandmothers and matrons shook their heads when they saw her pale face and tired look, deciaring that such a gay life was too much for a first season. Perhaps no one but little Miss Bacon guessed the true cause of Gladis’s head- acke. She had been from the first a great admirer of Miss Curtis, and had watched the friendship between Beverly and Gladis grow and ripen into love. She had unintentionally been a witness of their meeting the day before, and divined there had been a misunderstand- ing, but she had also seen the great love in Beverly’ s eyes, and felt sure that he would come back. Miss Bacon was one of those ‘loyal girls who never made gossip, especially of other people’s sor- row, and therefcre she kept her own counsel concerning the two, but watched as faithfully as Gladis did the train and boat, feeling sure he would come. ; One never knows how it all happens, and yet it always will be so as long as the world lasts, and ic is safe to say and good to believe that every one has at least once in his or her life been willing to give up everything to some other will ‘for love's sweet sake. ; Bo thought and felt Gladis as she sat all alone in a shady nook on the piazza, just one week after Beverly had left her, and she longed so to see his bright hand- some face that it seemed as though he must come. It was the first time she had not watched for him, always standing a little behind those who were sure of arrivals, but this afternoon she had been so busy thinking, instead of watching, that she did not hear the bustle and confusion at- tending the coming of new guests, cr the return of old ones. But Miss Bacon was there, and a glad little cry escaped her as she saw Beverly Post hurry up the steps, and with him her brother. “Why, Larry dear, this is a great pleas- ure!” ‘Yes; I kfew you would be glad. I was thinking of coming later on, but Bey here persuaded me to come now.. Oh, excuse me, Harriet, this is my dear oid classmate Beverly Post, and this is my clever little sister, Beverly.” - It is needless to say that they were de- lighted to know each other, but Beverly could scarcely wait before asking: “Do you know if Mrs. Curtis is still here?” “I know where Miss Curtis is. Shall I take you to her?’ asked Miss Bacon, the sweet mouth that had been accused of having lips with an intellectual curve, Beverly answered with a happy little nod, and the next moment was holding both of Gladis’s hands, and saying: “JI could not stay away, Gladis, I could not; life is not worth living with- out you.” “But—but— Oh, I am so glad to see you, Beverly!” 2 By far the prettiest wedding of the season was that of Mr. Beverly Post and Miss Gladis Curtis. © The church was profusely decorated with golden-rod, and golden-rod only; even the . bride’s bou- quet was of golden-rod, and was the only bouquet carried. — Harper’ 8. Bazar, rR te ‘ Born in the White House. Only two childien have ever been born in the Presidential mansion—and neither of them was a Presidential baby. Strange to say, they arrived under two consecutive administrations, but, Shan. ger still, they both now live in Mont- gomery. One cf them is Miss Letitia Tyler, a lady of rare accomplishments, and the other Colonel Hal T. Walker, a prominent lawyer, who also has large planting interests.’ As the name of the first indicates, she was born under the Tyler administration, and is the granddaughter of President Tyler. Colonel Walker’s mother was a niece of Presiflent Polk and his father the President’s private secretary. How gloomy the White House must have been during most of the years of its existencs' Only two babies for nearly a century is a poor rerord for any house, and no degree ‘of official spiendor can atone for thi. | fatal shortcoming. —New York Mail ani 88s en “they refed the hotel, tio’ plazzas were crowded, and life was at | with a mischievous smile playing about. ~ BUDGET OF FUN. HUMOROUS SKETOI®:S FROM ‘VARIOUS SOURCES. An Enthusiastic Mausician—A Soft Answer—A Horse of Another Color—Cause for Appre- hension, Etc. sEte. There was once a young woman of Chester, Who was eager to sing when one pressed her: When she once got a start She would sing with such art That it took twenty men to arrest her. : —Harper's Bazar. . A SOFT ANSWER. ‘Are you ailing?” babbled the brook. “Not much,” gurgled the spring. «Still welling. "— New. York Sun. IN THE POSTOFFICE. | ‘‘Home again,” said the postmaster to the returning stamp clerk. ‘Yes, back to my old stamping ground,” and he took his place at the window, — Detroit Free Press. FOSTERING CARE. Kittie Winslow—¢ Why don’t you let your moustache grow, Mr. Boysen?” Mr. Boysen—*‘‘Let it grow! Why, my dear 'Miss. Winslow, I am offering it every inducement !”’— Life. BRAINLESS. “They say Robinson has water on the brain.” § **Where did he get it?” : ¢*What—the water?” **No—the brain.” — Life. A HORSE OF ANOTHER COLOR. Little Johnnie—*‘There's a man at the door with a bill.” . Brown—¢“Tell him I’m not at home.” Little Johnnie—*‘‘But it's a five dollar bill he says fie: owes you.” — Epoch. HOW HE LOST IT. 1 angle—¢ “Poor Tableigh lost half of his fortune by that last failure of his.” Bangle—*‘So bad as that?” Jangle—¢*Yes; he was forced to com promise at fifty ceats on the dollar. ”— Detroit Free Press. CAUSE FOR APPREHENSION. Jack—¢Waat is the matter? Maud say she’d be a sister to you!” Tom —‘“No; but after she had accepted me, we broke the news to the old folks, and Mrs. Inlaw said she'd be % mother to me.” —Puck. FASHION AND FOOD. Husband—<“Mrs. Tiptop's dinner was grand, wasn’t it#” Wife—¢‘I didn’t enjoy it.” Why not?’ ¢*My new dress was so tightI coulda’ eat anything.” New York Wastly. Did HE WILL-COLLECT THE INTEREST. “Now this is an event of interest to me,” exclaimed Staggers, glancing up from the newspapsr, » . “What is it!” asked his wife. $A company in which Iam a stock- holder announce a dividend.”— Detroit Free Press. 3 CONTAGIOUS IN THEIR CASE. Mc. Noopop—-**‘Doctor,1s insomnia con- tagious?” - Dr. Paresis——*¢‘Certainly not, sir. What makes you ask that?’ Mr. Noopop-—‘‘Bzcause [noticed that when baby is troubled with insomnia, my wife and I invariably catea it, too.” — Life. : ENCOURAGING HIM, Brother Jack—*‘I asked Virginia Cooper 0 marry me and she said there was too great a discrepancy in our ages.” Bister—¢*How old is Virginia?” Brother J ack— Twenty-three. n Sister—¢‘And you're nineteen. So just wait two yearsand you "Il both be twenty- one. NJ udge. UNDECIPHERABLH, Ejucated Ezyptian—You have mo ‘wonderful hieroglyphicsin youe gountry, Bir; no mysterious inscriptions, no unde- - cipherable relics of an ancient literature whose secrets the wise men of the world have tried for azes to.discover.” American Citizen—*No, we haven’t any of thost things, but Ibrightening up) we've got our ‘railway guides.’ Ve Chicago Tribune. THEN MR. PIKEHAM SCOWLED. Mr. Pinkham——¢‘How do you do, Mrs. Willis? You are the last person I ex- pected to see in Florence.” Mrs. Willis—*¢Why, if it isn’t Mr. Pinkham! Yes, we are spending the winter here. You mustcall on us often. You know, just how it is---persons we never think much of while at home seem like dear friends when we meet them in a strange place.”---Harper's Buaar, : WHAT HE HOPED. Mr. De Brate—‘My wife has a dog “which knows one hundred différent tricks. Wouldn't you like to have him?” Showman—¢‘Indeed I would. Is he for sale?” 7 ¢ No.” ‘Won't she sell him at any price?” +No.”? “Then why | do you speak to ms about him?” ¢¢] was in oom ‘maybe you would steal him."—-- Good News. GEORGE ALL RIGHT. Anxious Mother—¢‘My dear, I'm afraid George is getting into bad company. He is out very late nearly every night.” ‘Observing Father —¢Oh, he's all right. He goes to see some girl or other. Shouldn’t ‘wonder if he'd announce an engagement soon.” ‘$'He hasn't said a word about any young lady.” “No; but he’s keeping company with one all the same. His right wrist i k _~ Grocer—*‘I’'m very sorry, I'm sure.’ WHAT VATTING FOR. “r Nadersticd, Mrs. Sassafras, that ‘| you are the owner of a hen which laid an ego with afive-cent piece-in it one day and the day following one eogtaining a 4 dime.” - “ “I am, sir.” “I represent a dime museum, and 1 would like to buy your hen.” “No dime museum can touch thal fowl, sir. I'm. waiting for a British syndicate to make me an offer, sir Good Etoraing "e-Hpock, INDIGNANT AT LAST. : Customer—*¢‘Mr. Briggs, there seems to be a good deal of sand in the sugar this week.’ Customer— And the butter is three. quarters oleo.” Grocer! ‘Well, that.” -Customer— ‘But what surprises me the most is that the tea is pure, and weighs sixteen ounces to the pound.” Grocer—*‘By gracious, Mr. Snooks, I'll be more careful in the futura!”— Har- per’s Bazar. I must look inte YE ADVERTISING CLERK. Fussy Man (hurrying into newspaper office)—“!Fve lost my spectacles some- where, and I want to advertise for them but I can’t see fo write without them, you know.” : ¢+Advertising Clerk (likely to be busi- ness manager some day)—*‘I will write the ad. for you, sir. Any marks on them?” Fussy Man—"Yes, yes. Gold-rfimmed, lenses different focus, and letters L. Q. C. on inside. Insert it three times.” Advertising Clerk—**Yes, sir. Five dollars, please.” Fussy Man—: ‘Here it is.’ Advertising ee It gives me, sir, great pleasure, to inform you sir, that your spectacles are on top of your head.” Fussy Man—¢Mystars! So they are. Why didn’t you say so before!” Advert'sing Clerk —*‘Business before pleasure, you know.”—New York Weckly. Fortunes in the Sale of Flowers. New York boasts of many industries. New Yorkers have the faculty of making a nimble dollar about as rapidly as such a feat can be accomplished. There are one or two big florists in this city who are making fortunes every year by the sale of flowers. One man on upper Broadway has an infome of $30,000 a year from suca a business, aud there are half a dozen. other men in New York who make from $5000 to $15,000 a year’ in the same way. These are big figures, but when the prices charged are recalled they do not seem so unlikely. For. ex: ample, the man who does the largest business in cut flowers in New York very often has orders for house or church decorations that cost from $500 to $5000. This man docs not undertake any work that does not pay well. If it is a fashionable wedding he will not agree to decorate the churgh for less than $500, and as much more as tha bride's stern papa will spend. If both/| the church and residence of the bride's parents are to be decorated, quite $3000 can be spent, without even the suspicion’ of great extravagance. For elaborate dinner parties, dances and receptions, from $250 to $5000 may be expended, as the purse oi the purchaser may elect. Every fashionable bride must carry at least $100. worth of flowers in her gloved hand to the altar, and sometimes even more costly ones. Many wealthy people are supplied with fresh flowers daily, and the bills for these quickly foot up into a snug sum, A few of the fashion- -able men have bouquets for their coats sent to their clubs or homes daily, and the ‘charge is never less than $1 a day. Ladies who entertain a great deal, and who go out every evening, follow the same rule, oaly in the latter case tie price is usually from five to tea times a3 much as for the bouquets for men. Then there are thousands of men and women, who are neither rich nor poor, who buy flowers every day. Roses and violets and orchids are worth nearly their weight in, gold in winter, and so it comes that a few florists reap a rich har- vest. The-least surprising part of the Bower trade of New Yorx is that the work is not confined to the big city and its suburbs. Bat residents of Boston, Philadelphia, Chicazo and other cities send to New York for flowers for wed- dings, receptions and dinner parties, and of course the florists make a handsome’ thing of it all. The towers seat to dis- tant cities are ‘daintily packed in soft cotton and paper, and are so arranged that they may be preserved in all their ‘I freshness for over a week.—New York Mail and Erpress, Relic of a Prehistoric Race, Well diggers at Laconia, Ark., have made a reaaarxable find. Ata depth of 123 foet the drill penetrated a peculiar, hard substance, which they declare] must bs a layer of bricks. There are no brick houses in the town and people laughed at them, The drillgrs persisted in- their assertion. Later, in a mass of mud brought up by the drill, was found a piece of money, It is octagonal in shape and has hiergzlyphics on it which have not been deciphered, but which evidently are meant to represent the value of the piece. It is totally different from anything ever seen in that heigh- oorhood, and the piece was taken to Helena, Ark., where it was shown to numismatics, but all ‘agreed in pro- nouncing it as’ something beyond their knowledge. It is claimed by antiquarians that the bricks and coins are relics of a prehistoric race which lived in Arkan. sas many years before the Indians, and who built’ the pavementss and roads which werg discovered ‘at Memphis bn | the other side of the river above Helena. The coin will be sent to the Smithsonian Institute for examination, but the owne hinks it "nothing of says it will taken large amount of money | | to buy it, as he! i ih A properly Boiled ham is dish. For this purpose water over night a small ham about seven pounds. In - the take it out, wipe it and pu fire in a saucepan, covering it cold water. Let it boil slowly for abou hours; then remove the ski kle it "with a little sugar, mak cisions. on the surface, and cover | ly with fine bread crumbs, spri little white pepper over it. Set it in an oven and ba browned. It may beserveaa it is considered by many to be | condition when it is sliced in deli slices after it 1s thoroughly cold. — Globe. DUSTER BAG AND DUSTER. A pretty duster bag is of pongee en. broidered in outline with a spray © flowers or a conventional design, bearing the word **Duster,’’ also in outline stitch. A simpler. bi made of a strip of cretonne a’ gaarter a yard wide by three-quarters long, One-third of the length is turned up for the ‘pocket, and the sides stitche gether, while the remaining third form: a flap cut to a point and hemmed, the extremity being adorned with a - bright ribbon. ir tached to the back of the bag p strong and convenient loop by ° hang it up. A common mistake in making cloth dusters is that of havin large. One yard square gat! more dust than one half that siz its being more o handle. Then, too, the general aj ance of griminess which a duster assumes seems to be more obviou the large cloth even atter it has be service but a short while.—New Recorder, as LEFT-OVER MEATS. A book might well be compiled numberless dainty dishes which made of left-over bits of meat, gan poultry; and yet, “brought down to ter of fact, they might all be catalo under the prosaic name of has Nearly all of the daintiest rechay dishes of the French are served mine and seasoned. There are very fe ple who reaily uaderstand how & a good dppetizing hash and ser folded on a napkin, a dainty brown. on the outside, but delicately se and soft as soon as the crust is broke: Scarcely any dish com3son oar brea, fast tables better than this, wi well made and well served. = Ab thirds cold potatoes (not mashe: one-third cold besf, or corn bsef, ar quired to make a good beef or cora hash, A little fat may be puv in the corn beef, but beef ha better made of all lean mont.’ Mince’ meat thoroughly, then add the potatoe .and season more thoroughly thao f ‘most any other dish. If it is a beef add a large spoonful of bufter to cups of the chopped mixture. Add, enough boiling Water to make it mol but not “salvey.” pan over the fire. large tablespoonful of butter, and whe this is melted pour in the hash, Smoot it down evenly, and set it a little bao where 1 it will slowly brown. ing takes about half an hour. at the sides of the pan in about twe minutes to see if it is browning; itn pull it a little forwacd. Waoen dons fol one side of the hash over the other with an omelet-turner, and tura it oa a hot platter. - Remember that it should b covered by a crisp brown crust, but be soft witaiu. —New York Tr ibune. RECIPES. Tomato Pie—Slice tomatoes and stow in syrup of sugarand lemon juice. Wien transparent lay i in pans eovergd wita r crust and bake. iy Bubble and Squeak—Into your chaf- ing dish put two heaping tablespoon al of “butter; into this place some thin slices of cold corn beef, well prepared; add some cold boiled cabbage, chop fine, well seasoned with pepper and sall 2 tablespoon(ul ot pickled cucumber di onion, mixed, and a small teaspooifu made mustard. Serve hot. Calf’s Liver—Mince an onion fine place in your chafing-dish, toge with two tablespoonfuls of butters. at half a pound of calf’s liver into slices, season well, dredge with flour and pa into the chafing- dish. Cook until and sarve hot with a sauce made oO yolk of one era beaten with a tabl spoonful of butter, a little cayenne a desertspoonful of lemon j Juice. 7 Chocolate Pudding-<Rub two. ta spoonfuls bucter to a cream, a tablespoonfuls flour and pour on sls one and one-half cupfuls hot milk. three ounces grated chocolate wi tablespoonfuls ‘sugar and thre spoonfuls hot water.” Put the est ture on to boil in a double boiler the chocolate and cook eight mi ing Remove, add the beaten yolks 0 eggs and set away to cool. . Oni hour before serving add the well:be whitesand bake in a buttered dish al one-half hour. Serve with one | cream sweetened with two tablespoonfuls powdered Swgar and beaten ill Phe Rice Croquettes, With J elly—Cow cupful well washed rice with two fuls of boiling water; add one-half spoonful salt, * and steam till ‘ten Male one cupful thick cream sauce one-tablespoonful butter and two spoonfuls flour, one saltspogaful one cupful’ hot milk; add” the s beaten yolk of one egg and. the Cool, shape, roll in crumbs, in crumbs; fry in hot lard; serve with he rice must be washed thoro washed until no starch remains it water. Pat it on in the doy and steam until tender. Follo carefully and the result
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers