EETING.
THE M™M
HE.
To me a childish pledge she made—
She promised, some day, to be mine—
ow splendidly she is arrayed!
o me a childish pledge she made—
ng since forgotten I'm afraid—
Her laugh is like a draught of wine;
To me a childish pledge she made,
She promised, some day, to be mine.
I kissed her oft, in those dear days,
When she was eight and I was ten;
ow fair she is, how proud her ways!
kissed her oft, in those dear days,
nd now I may but stand and gaze,
Nor claim the love she gave me then!
I kissed her oft, in those dear days,
hen she was eight and I was ten.
SHE.
We played together long ago,
I promised to be his, some day—
Ah, doubtless he’s forgotten, though
We played together long ago,
I promised to be his, but oh,
e keeps so far, so far away!
We played together long ago,
promised to be his, some day,
He used to tell me I was fair—
I wonder if he thinks so yet?
.He used to kiss my lips, my hair,
He used to tell me I was fair—
h, if our ‘pledge were kept—but there
Is much to make a man forget!
e used to tell me I was fair,
I wonder if he thinks so yet?
RATHER A
NEAT JOB.
Y profession isn’t a popular
one. There is considerable
prejudice against it. I
don’t myself think it's
much worse than a good many others.
However, that’s nothing to do with
my story. Some years ago me and
the gentleman who was at that time
connected with me in business—he’s
met with reverses since then, and at
present isn’t able to go out—were look-
ing around for a job, being at that time
rather hard up, as you might say. We
struck a small country town—I ain’t
-goin’ to give it away by telling where
it is, or what the name of it was. There
was one bank there; the President was
a rich old duffer; owned the mills,
owned the bank, owned most of the
town. There wasn’t no other officer
but the cashier, and they had a boy,
who used to sweep out and run of er-
rands.
The bank was on the main street,
pretty well up one end of it—nice, snug
place, on the corner of a cross street,
with nothing. very near it. We took
our observations and found there
wasn’t no trouble at all about it. There
was an old watchman who walked up
and down the street nights, when he
didn’t fall asleep and forget it. The
vault had two doors; the outside one
was chilled iron, and a three wheel
combination lock; the inner door wasn't
no door at all; you could kick it open.
It didn’t pretend to be nothing but
fireproof, and it wasn’t even that. The
first thing we done, of course, was to
fit a key to the outside door. As the
lock on the outside door was an old-
fashioned Bacon lock, any gentleman
my profession who chances to read
Ais article will know just how easy
jhat job was, and how we done it. I
may say here that the gentlemen in
my line of business, having at times a
ood deal of leisure on their hands,
o considerable reading; and are partic-
ularly fond of-a neat bit of writing. In
fact, in the way of literature, I have
found among ’em—however, this being
digression, I drop it, and go on with the
main job again.
« This was our plan: After the key
was fitted L was to go into the bank,
and Jim—that wasn't his name, of
course, but let it pass—was to keep
watch on the outside. When any one
assed he was to tip me a whistle, and
hen I doused the glim and lay low;
after they got by I goes on again. Sim-
ple and easy, you see. Well, the night
as we selected the President happened
to be out of town; gone down to the
city, as he often did. I got inside all
right, with a slide lantern, a breast
drill, a small steel jimmy, a bunch of
skeleton keys, and a green baize bag,
to stow the swag. I fixed my light
and rigged my breast drill, and got
to work on the door right over the
lock. .
Probably a great many of our read-
ers are not so well posted as me about
bank locks, and I may say for them
that a three wheel combination lock
has three wheels in it, and a slot in
each wheel In order to unlock the
door you have to get the three slots
opposite to each other at the top of the
lock. Of course, if you know the num-
ber the lock is set on you can do this;
hut if you don’t you have to depend
your ingenuity. There is in each
f these wheels a small hole, through
‘hich you can put a wire through the
ack of the lock when you change the
mbination. Now, if you can bore a
role through the door and pick up
those wheels by running a wire
through those holes, why, you can open
the door. I hope I make myself clear.
I was boring that hole. The door
was chilled iron; about the neatest stuff
I ever worked on. I went on steady
encugh; only stopped when = Jim—
whieh, as I said, wasn’t his real name
—whistled outside, and the watchman
toddled by. By-and-by, when I'd got
pretty mear tArough, I heard Jim—so
to speak—whistle again. I stopped,
and pretty soon I heard footsteps out-
side, and I'm blowed, if they didn’t
come right up the bank steps and I
heard a key in the lock. I was so dum-
foundered when I heard that that you
could have slipped the bracelets right
on me. I picked up my lantern, and
I'll be hanged if I didn’t let the slide
glip down and throw the light right
onto the door, and there was the Presi-
dent. Instead of calling for help, as I
supposed he would, he took a step in-
side the door, and shaded his eyes with
his hand and lecoked at me. I knowed
[ ought to knock him down and eut out,
but I'm blest if I could, I was that
. surprised. .
“Who are you?’ says he.
“Who are you?’ says I, thinking that
was an innocent remark as he com-
menced it, and a-trying all the time to
collect myself.
“I’m president of the bank,” says he,
kinder short; ‘‘something the matter
with the lock?”
By George! the idea came to me then.
“Yes, sir,” says 1 touching my cap;
“Mr. Jennings, he telegraphed this
morning as the lock was out of order
and he couldn't get in, and I'm come
on to open it for him.”
“I told Jennings a week ago,” says
he, “that he ought to get that lock
fixed. Where is he?”
“He's been a;writing letters, and he’s
gone up to his house to get another
letter he wanted for to answer.”
“Well, why don’t you go right on?”
says he.
“I’ve got almost through,” says I,
“and I didn’t want to finish up and
open the vault till there was somebody
here.”
“That’s very ereditable to you,” says
he; “a very proper sentiment, my man.
You can’t,” he goes on, coming round
by the door, “be too particular about
avoiding the very suspicion of evil.”
“No, sir,” says I, kinder modest like.
“What do you suppose is the matter
with the lock?” says he.
“I*don’t rightly know yet,” says I;
“but I rather think it’s a little wore
on account of not being oiled enough.
These ’ere locks ought to be oiled about
once a year.”
“Well,” says be, “you might as well
go right on, now I'm here; I will stay
till Jennings comes. Can’t I help you
—hold your lantern, or something of
that sort?”
The thought came to me like a flash,
and I turned around and says:
“How do I know you're the Presi-
dent? TI ain’t ever seen you afore, and
you may be a-trying to crack this
bank, for all I know.”
“That's a very proper inquiry, my
man,” says he, “and shows a most re-
markable degree of discretion. I con-
fess that I should not have thought of
the position in which I was placing
You. However, I can easily convince
you that it’s all right. Do you know
what the President’s name is?”
“No, I don’t,” says I, sorter surly.
“Well, you'll find it on that billy’ said
he, taking a bill out of his pocket; “and
you see the same name on these let-
ters,” and he took some letters from
{ his coat.
I suppose that I ought to have gone
right on then, but I was beginning to
feel interested in making him prove
who he was, so I says:
“You might have got them letters to
put up a job on me.”
“You're a very honest man,” says he;
“one among a thousand. Don’t think
I'm at all offended at your persistence.
No, my good fellow, I like it, I like it,”
and he laid his hand on my shoulder.
“Now, here,” says he, taking a bundle
out of Nis pocket, is a package of $10,-
000 in bonds. A burglar wouldn't be
apt to carry those around with him,
would he? I bought them in the city
yesterday, and I stopped here to-night
on my way home to place them in the
vault, and, I may add, that your simple
and manly honesty has so touched me
that I would willingly leave them in
your hands for safe keéping. You
needn’t blush at my praise.”
I suppose I did turn sorter red when
I see them bonds.
“Are you satisfied now?’ says he.
I teld him I was thoroughly, and so
I was. So I picked up my drill again,
and gave him the lantern to hold so
that I could see the door. I heard
Jim, as I call him, outside once or
twice, and I like to have burst out
laughing, thinking how he must be
wondering what was geing on inside.
I worked away and kept explaining te
him what I was a-trying to do. He
was very much interested in mechan-
ics, he said, and knowed as I was a
man as was up in my business by the
way I went to work. He asked me
about what wages I got, and how I
liked my business, and said he took
quite a fancy to me. I turned round
once in a while and looked at him
a-setting up there as solemn as a biled
owl, with my dark lantern in his
blessed hand, and I’m blamed if 1
didn’t think I should have to holler
right out.
I got through the lock pretty soon
and put in my wire and opened it. Then
he took hold of the door and opened the
vault.
“I’ll put my bonds in,” says he, “and
go home. You can lock up and wait
till Mr. Jennings comes. I don’t sup-
pose you will try to fix the lock to-
night.”
I told him I shouldn’t do anything
more with it now, as we could get in
before morning.
“Well, I'll bid you good-night, my
man,” says he, as I swung the door to
again.
Just then I heard Jim, by name,
whistle, and I guessed the watchman
was (a-coming up the street.
“Ah,” says I, “you might speak to the
i watchman, if you see him, and tell him
| to keep an extra lookout to-night.”
|
“I will,” says he, and we both went |
to the front door.
“There comes the watchman up the
.
Areet,” says he. “Watchman, this man !
has been fixing the bank lock, and I
want you to keep a sharp lookout to- |
night. He will stay here until Mr.
Jennings returns.” |
“Good-night again,” says he, and we |
shook hands and he went up the street.
I saw Jim, so called, in the shadow of
the other side of the street, as I stood
on the step with the watchman.
“Well,” says I to the watchman, “I'll
go and pick up my tools and get ready
to go.”
I went back into the bank, and it
didn’t take long to throw the door open
and stuff them bonds into the bag.
There was some boxes lying around
and a safe as I should rather have liked
to have tackled, but it seemed like
tempting Providence after the luck
we'd had. I looked at my watch and
see it was just. a quarter past twelve.
There was an express train went
through at half-past twelve. I tucked
my tools in the bag on the top of the
bonds, and walked out of the front
door. The watchman was on the steps.
“I don’t believe I'll wait for Mr. Jen-
nings,” says I. “I suppose it will be
all right if I give you his key.”
“That's all right,” says the watch-
man.
“I wouldn’t go very far away from
the bank,” says L
“No, I won't,” says he;
vigh* about here all night.”
“Good-night,” says I, and I shook
hands with him, and me and Jim—
which wasn’t his right name, you un-
derstand—took the twelve-thirty ex-
press, and the best part of that job
was we never heard nothing of it.
It never got into the papers.—Wav-
erley Magazine.
“I'll stay
Has Neither Brothers Nor Beaus.
Miranda, a timorous spinster, whe
has reached a “certain age,” has neith-
er brothers nor beaus. In lieu of more
capable and competent protection,
when she goés abroad ‘in the evening,
says the New York Post, it is under
the convoy of a messenger boy. She
has complained that by some inexplica-
ble law of chance, whenever she has
flowers or notes to be delivered, her
call is invariably answered by husky
youths strong enough to handle a
trunk, but when she desires an escort |
or some one to carry a heavy bag to the
railroad station a tiny scrap of an
urchin presents himself at the door.
Returning from the theatre one night
this week with a diminutive specimen,
she was compelled to stand on a street
corner waiting for a car. The hour
was late and Miranda was nervous
and half afraid. She said as much.
Her hired companion reassured her:
“It's all right, lady. Nobody ever
speaks to anybody when anybody sees
anybody is with a messenger boy.”
Province of the Newspaper.
It is generally conceded among men
of the best thought that the newspaper
best serves the pecple when it tells the
happenings of the world as they are,
not as they ought to be, says the Car-
thage (Mo.) Press. The preachers and
the reformers are supposed to cover
the field of reform, and the newspaper
through its editorial columns frequent-
ly touches upon the same theme, but in
the news columns, giving a true picture
of events as they are, is the only policy
that finds justification. This does not
mean that the columns of a newspaper
should be filled with improper lan-
guage or that things should be told
there which the young and guileless
should not know. Nor does it mean
that the space should be given over to
sensationalism after the manner of the
vellow journals. What the people want
to know is what is going on in the
world around them, and it is the prov-
ince of the good newspaper to supply
that want in a clean, legitimate man-
ner. .
An Hour a Day Wasted.
More time is lost and more labor
wasted in London every day than in
any city in the world, says the London
Mail
Everything has apparently conspired
to make Londoners do unnecessary
things and to waste many years of
their lives in doing them. We have
never had sufficient energy to throw
off the accumulated legacies of neglect
in the past.
Compare London with the next larg-
est and busiest city in the world—New
York, which was more seriously handi-
capped by physical conditions. The
New Yorker saves at least an hour a
day which is lost to Londoners, and he
schemes to economize labor which the
Londoner recklessly wastes.
Still Dredging the Suez Canal.
The work of dredging the Suez Ca-
nal, which goes on daily, is bearing
good results. Last year the maximum
draught for ships in the canal ‘was
twenty-five feet seven inches, but from
the beginning of this year it was raised
to twenty-six feet three inches, and
during the first four months of 1902
forty-four vessels have availed them-
selves of this improvement. Similarly
also the breadth of ships is increasing,
the largest beam in transit having been
that of the Japanese battleship Hat-
suse, seventy-six feet six inches.—Lon.
don Globe.
Huge Diamond Found.
In one of the mines near Kimberley,
says London Golden Penny, a diamond
of 400 carats was found a few weeks
ago. It is a pale yellow celor, and its
form is:that of an octahedron. Owing
to its great size the news of its discov-
ery has caused much excitement, and
the owner did not feel quite easy until
he had placed it in a safe in one of the
local banks. The exact value of the
diamond is not yet known, but fifty
per cent. of it must be paid to the Gov-
ernment, and experts say that this
alone represents a considerable
{une,
sum
{ov-
Ration forthe airy «ow.
. The iolowing rations are suggested
by Professor H. J. Waters of the Mis-
souri Agricultural coliege: Corn and
cob meal six pounds, wheat meal five
pounds, gluten or cottonseed meal
2 1-2 pounds, cowpea, alfalia or clover
hay six pounds; another ration is
eight to 12 pounds corn and cob meal,
with all the alfalfa or cownea hay the
cows will eat; the third ration is eight
pounds corn and cob meal of seven
pounds corn meal, foul pounds cotton-
seed or gluten meal. To ail .22e above
rations add as much straw, ccra fodder
or sorghum hay as the cows will eat.
It must be remembered that these
amounts are simply suggestive. Some
cows will require much larger quan-
tities, while others will not utilize
these amounts profitably. The period
of location will have much to do with
it. Toward thc end of the milking
period the flow begins to decrease ani
it may be advisable to reduce the al-
lowance somewhat.
Increasing the Beef Suppnly.
It is very plainly seen that in the
rapid narrowing of the western cattle
ranges in public land by entry and set-
tlement, that the increase of beef must
ccme from some other source. What
is it? As plainly it is a fact that this
increase must come through pure bred
cattle. The country can come to this
as certainly as it did to pure bred
swine, which is the rule now, and not
the exception, as in beef cattle. Pure
blood will increase the beef supply
by making 1200 to 1400 cattle in 24
months, whereas such beef now re-
quires, as a rule, 36 months. That is,
the same acres which now produce
feed stuffs for 1,000 pounds of best will,
with pure cattle, produce 1500 pounds
of beef, though growing no more grain
or forage. But another condition to-
ward which we are moving rapidly,
and which of course must add in a
marked measure to the additional in-
crease in beef production, is that of
feeding a balanced ration.—Indiana
Farmer.
Destruction of Weeds,
There are two classes of weeds—
toose that come from seeds and those
which are propagated principally by
means of their roots. Weeds which
spring up from seeds can be destroyed
by successively bringing thé seeds in
the soil to the surface, where they ger-
minate. The seeds of some weeds have
great vitality and remain in the soil
for years. Some are enclosed in clods
and are retained for another season,
but when the clods are broken and
the weed seeds expcsed to warmth
rear the surface, they are put out of
existence by the harrow as soon as
they germiante, for which reason it is
impossible to clear a piece of land
from weeds in a season unless every
clod is pulverized. The oft-repeated
inquiry: “From whence come the
weeds?” may be answered: ‘From
the clods.” The weeds that spring
from roots are cut up, checked and
prevented from growing by irequent
cultivation, because they cannot exist
for a great length of time unless per-
mitted to grow. If no leaves are al-
ifowed in such plants they perish from
suffocation, because they breathe
through the agency of the leaves. The
advantages derived by the soil in the
work of weed destruction reduces the
cost of warfare on the weeds for ev-
ery time the narrow or cultivator is
used the manure is more intimately
mixed with the soil, more clods are
krcken, a greater proportion of plant
food is offered to the roots, the loss
of moisture is less2ned and the ca-
pacity of the plants of the crop to se-
cure more food is increased. The
cost of the destruction of weeds should
not be charged to ibe accounts of a
single year only, as thorough work
during the season may obliterate the
weeds entirely, or so reduce their num-
ber as to make the cost of their de-
struction during succeeding years but
a trifle—Philadelphia Record.
Destructive Grape Worms.
Several bulletins have basen issued
in recent years both Ly the state ex-
periment station and the department
of agriculture, calling particular at-
tention to the grapercot worm which
has proved a most formidable foe to
the grape vineyards cf-the great Chau-
tauqua belt in New York. The worm
has also made its appearance in other
grape-growing sections of the country,
and the total damage amounts to many
thousands of dollars every year. The
worst damage done by the worms is
to the roots of the grapevine. The
beetles feed on the ieaves of the vines,
but the grubs eat at the roots of the
vines until they gradually lost vital-
ity and die. The appearance of a vine
thus attacked is puzzling to the grow-
er, for there is no apparent reason for
its slow decay. The question of con-
trolling the rast and exterminating it
is not one easy to solve. The young
grubs burrow into the soil, and their
resent there cannot easily be detected
until the vine has keen permanently
injured. One method of limiting their
work is to destroy the beetles when
they make their appearance on the
leaves. They can be jarred from the
vine and destroyed once or twice a
week, and by this method far fewer
grubs will appear in the ground to in-
jure the roots. The young grubs when
aitacked move rapidly and disappear
in the ground, and it is almost impos-
gible to destroy them. Exeperiments
should be made by spraying the soil
vnder the vin with crude petrolium
oil or some i eticide. It is possible
that littie p aution like this will!
keep the grubs & y from the roots if
it will got kill them. What is needed
is a little individual experiment on
@
| order, still, it is a satisfaction to be
{ able te place one’s hands upon the
l firm
| Dr. George G. Groff, in New York Tri-
| bune Farmer.
the part of all the grape growers: where |
tue grubs appear. It has been found |
that chickens greedily eat the beetles i
end grub, and wurning loose fiocks of |
hens in the vineyard in the summer |
may have a distinct effect in keeping |
down the pests. Experiments are now |
being extensively carried on, and fur-
ther reports will appear later. Prof. !
S. N. Doty, in American Cuitivator. |
Keeping Milk.
Although milk can turn ropy under
a temperature falling close to frost
line, yet warm weather favors its fre-
quency. It is useless to blame it upon
the cow as so many do. The ropiness
of milk is caused by a specific bacillus
in the milk or cream, which bacillus
is brought out of streams and reaches |
the milk first by either washing the
milk vessels in the water, or the mud !
adhering to tae cow, and the milkman |
letting it get into the milk. The ba-
cillus once started strongly, will cling
to the milk vessels, the cream pitcher
or bottle indefinitely, unless they are
ihoroughly cleansed each time after
using. And the only right way to do
this when the milk gets ropy is to sub-
werge them all each time for not less
than five minutes in boiling water.
Look especially to the strainer; half
the time it is responsible for the ropy
condition of the milk. Do not blame
the milkman and ruin his trade with
your complaincs until first you are sure
the lack of cleanliness, in this respect,
does not iie with your own neglect
in not scalding oat as it should be, the
receptacle you keep the milk in after
he brings it to you. Milk never ropes
until it has stocd for several hours,
long enough to give the bacilli time
to get in their work.
Unless we know cxactly what and
where the milk comes from, as to the
health of the cows, and carefulness of |
the dairyman, it is just as weil to |
pasteurize the milk ourselves. This is |
dene by putting the vessel containing |
it into one containing water brought
to and kept at a temperature of 155
aegrees, for from 10 to 20 minutes,
stirring the milk often to distribute the
heat evenly thiough it. This tempera-
ture kills practically about ali the dang:
erous substances in it, and when cooled
still leaves it with the fresh milk flavor.
Running the heat higher will give it
the cooked flavor, and injures its di-
gestibility. To keep milk fresh for
days, put it into bottles, the bottles
into a saucepan of ccld water, grad-
ually bring to a boil, instantly cork,
put back into the water and bring to
a boil again, allowing it to boil for a
minute or two, iet gradually cool in
the same water, fasten the corks in
go that no air possitly ean touch the
niilk.—Agriculiural Optimist.
Auniumn Tree Planting.
The season for tree planting again
approaches, and we feel called upon to
again urge the importance of doing
this in the fall of the year. The ad-
vantages of planting at this season
are so many and so important that we
again enumerate them:
Firsst—Better trees can be obtained
at the nurseries now thar in the
spring. Often ail the best trees are
sold in the fall, and only second and
third grade stock left for those who
leave their orders until spring.
Second—The danger of substitution
of varieties at the nursery is less in the
autumn than in the spring. Very fre-
quently all.the varieties are sold at
the nurseries for fail delivery.
"hird—The nurserymen have more
time to dig and pack their stock at this
season than in the spring. Mistakes,
hence, are now less liable to occur,
trees are dug with better and larger
roots, they are better packed, and the
weather is also generally more tavor-
able for the handling of the young
stock after it is dug.
All these are advantages at the nur-
series. At the farm there are also ad-
vantages.
There is more iime tc plant the trees
‘iesurely and with care. Fall planted
trees will generally ali: grow, while it
is nearly certain that some planted in
the spring will die. The tree planted
in the fall at once begins to prepare
for growth the next season. Even if
new roots are not formed, the cut roots
form callouses which throw out root-
lets on the earliest warm days in
¢pring. Then the earth settles itself
about the rootlets, ¢nd dry weather
iz. the spring will have no effect on the
rewly planted stock. ’
To illustratz this point: 'The pres-
ent season we placed an order for a
rumber of fruit and crnamental trees.
Although the order was placed early,
the trees reached us very late, with the
result that more tnan half of them
failed te grow. Generally a better
growth will be obtained the first year
trom fall planted trees.
1t is well again to call attention to
the importance of purchasing trees
of reliable dealers. If an agent is dealt
with he should be required to show
that he really has authority to sell for
the nursery he clairs to represent.
It is not generally safe to purchase
¢i dealers who have no nurseries, for
the danger of substitution is in such
cases greater than when the order is
placed direct with (he nursery firm.
It is well, also, to remember that many
varieties of fruits have strictly local
values. The best persons to make up
a list of fruit trees for one are those
in the neizhbornood who are success-
ful growers of fruit.
A final caution to the buyer: Make
a map of the orchard, marking on it
rot only the name of each tree, but
aiso the firm of whom purchased. This
v:ill enable one to locate the dealers
who make substituticus in orders, for
while one cannot but be disappointed
to find in his orchard trees he did not
which made the substitution.—
| woolen turning yellow is to
HOVSEH
51.52
Don’t Spoil the Effet.
Ultra-artistic decorators are much
cpposed to the hanging of modern pic-
tures in Colonial houses. They claim
that, after much trouble on their part
lo secure consistent effects in the Co-
lonial house, the fashionable fad just
dow, many people almost entirely spoil
the result with modern pictures.
To Prevent Silk Turning Y=l"ow.
Silk should never be folded away
for any length of time in white paper,
since the chloride of lime used in
bleaching the paper produces a chem-
ical change in the silk and impairs the
color. A way to prevent silk and
place
pieces of beeswax in with the fabrics
when putting them away.
Avoid Damp Beds.
I. would seem almost unnecessary
to enlarge upon the necessity for dry
beds, and yet hoy often are they
damp, and cases of rheumatic fever
and severe colds are traced to them!
If bedding nas not been used for some
time, it should be placed in front of
a, fire or in the sun before it is slept
in, and a very geod way to test wheth~
er sheets are dry or not is io place
a tumbler between them for a while.
[f the sheets are damp, moisture will
appear inside the glass.
A Charming Room. .
A charming room has just been fur-
nished in an addition recently made
to an out-of-town house without buy-
ing any extra furniture. All thc extra
and odd pieces or furniture in the
house were gathered together and ar-
ranged in this room—the old drawing
room now being used as & family sit-
ting-room. One of the features of the
rew parlor is a horizontal window
about four feet by two placed high up
ia the wall. This is of yellowish frost-
glass with a simple design in deeper
color wrought out in it.: Baff silk
Grawn curtains, parted in the middle
to show quite a bit of the glass, are
used. The remaining windows of the
rcom consist of a square ‘bay’ in a
recess and two ordinary windows.
The mantle is colonial in style,
white} fluted pillars, showing each side
of the fireplace, and small ones each
side of the long mirror above, a hand-
some old clock with white marble pil-
lars is one of the possession
of the family, and this adorns the
mantelshelf, flanked by antique sil-
ver candlesticks, an oid mahogany cen-
tretable occupies the middle cof the
rcom, holding a few choice books, also
an iron lamp with globe shaped buff
shade. A set of quaint old French
carved chairs constitutes the other
pieces of furniture, with two sefas up-
holstered in dark rich stuff. Two or
three small antique tables occupy cor-’
ners, and ‘hold bits of quaint bric-a-
brac, and vases with flowers froth the
old-fashioned garden surrounaing the
house. The large rug in. the middle
of the floor shows rich chocolate and
a few buff tones mainly. An upright
riano stands under the horizontal win-
dow, and the piano top holds a bust
of a composer. A portrait of the
grand father of the family sitting at
kis library table is one of the pic-
tures of the room, aiso a large study
in oil of a garden full of light and
dolor, several fine etchings and another
outdoor study in oils.—Brooklyn
Eagle.
OF Sg ifr ip
RELIFPES
NT 9 © -C
Corn Waflles—Secald one pint of milk
and pour it over one and a half cup-
fuls of corn meal; let cool; then add
two eggs well beaten, one teaspoon of
salt, one tablespoon of butter melted;
mix two {ablespoonfuls of baking
powder with one tablespoon of flour;
add this to'the corn meal; heat well;
bake on hot, greased waffle iron.
Almond Fingers—_ut stale - bread
into pieces four inches long, one inch
wide and half an inch thick; dip them
in orange juice, then into minced al-
rionds, then in beaten egg, then in
bread crumbs; put a few of these in
the frying basket and fry in deep fat;
when a golden brown drain on paper;
arrange on a folded napkin; sift over
them powdered sugar and serve hot.
Eggs Baked on Toast—Break as
many eggs as will be required, leaving
each yolk in its own shell; put the
whites in a bowl, orepare a slice 22
nicely browned and buttered to=zt for
cach egg; dip each slice quickly in hot
milk and place on baking sheet. Whip
the whites stiff and pile on each silce
of toast, making a depression in top
oi each; in this drop the yolk, season
highly and cook in the oven tliree min-
utes. Garnish with cress, and serve
a bit of the cress with the eggs.
Chestnut Cake—Boil a pound of
chestnuts for about 15 minutes; re-
move husks and skins and rub the
nuts through a wire sieve with a wood-
en spoon. Weigh half a pound of this
pulp and mix with it a half pound of
sifted flour with a teaspoonfu! and a
halt of baking powder; in a=other
bowl, cream six ounces ef butter and
add six ounces of granulated sugar;
mix well and acd? three unbeaten eggs,
one at a time; beat up well, flavor with
a teaspoonful of vanilla and add half
the chestnut flour as prepared above;
add one gill of milk, stir well and add
the remainder of the chestnut flour.
Bake in a moderate oven for two
hours,
Lo
s