mei LITTLE VHT Little White Shoon, you are dainty and slim Ar you flit o’er the ballroom floor; Worthy are you for an artist to liman, A poet to hymu—and adore. guze in amaze at your {rclicsome night, As a wicht by enchantment Dbe- witched— But what do you cure as you trip it to-night? You sn: stitched! that the xies have Little White Shoon, like twin butter- flies That circle a garden a-blow, With rapt: irous si ighs and love-laden eyes I follow wherever you co. *Neath satin a-shimmer you glimmer as ray As lily buds wet with the dew If Imix up my similes, pardon me, pray, Each moment I'm wiidered anew. Little White Shoon, you have gall a score, Around you they sigh and aspire, And into your ear vapid compliments pour Unmeet for the grace they admire; But melody springs from my lyre, for its strings ants, iTE pl Et MEE mp RS GR a = Are a-quiver because you are near, And when you have vanished, like all lovely things, The world of your beauty shall hear. Little White Shoon—afar from the rout, What fancies are .blent with my dreams! . As you pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat gleaming about, I catch the sweet ripple of streams: The scent of the wild rose a-sway in the wind, he song of the shy forest bird, The glamour of moonlight with shadows entwined, In my dreaming are felt and are heard. Little White Shoon, the night's ebbing growing pink with the The fairer the vision the quicker ‘tis past— Alas, must you leave me forlorn! The 'cellos are breathing a final refrain: May your beauty ne'er wither or blight, And soft be the touches of sorrow and pain; : : Little White Shoon, good night! —Samuel Minturn Peck, in Life. £3%931333593333434%43334530330 M4 3 AN UNPRECEDENTED LOSS. By A. B. SCUDDER. $* any Jeanne Prentice, only daughter of Doctor Prentice, the old rector of St. Jude’s, was gazing abstractedly at a sweet face before her in the looking glass. Jeanne was thinking. As she rested her elbows on the dresser, sup- porting her dimpled chin with her hands, the expression around her mouth settled itself into unbecoming dissatisfaction. Out of pure wilfulness she had quar- reled with, and was now parted from, the man she loved. True, she had re- pented immediately, for Jeanne had meant to do nothing more than tease Bob Marsden. But Mr. Robert Mars- den had seen fit to take her acceptance of attentions from the new curate, Renwick Krecting, in a more serious manner that Jeanne had intended. After a reception at the church dur- ing the winter, at which the tall young curate had monopolized Jeanne's time more than Bob liked, he had remon- strated. Jeanne had laughed at him. That was all. Just then, Dannie, the boy who pumped the organ used for the Sunday school, came with a message of import- ance from one of the members of the firm with which Bob was associated, and he had gone off hurriedly and cold- ly. The next afternoon she had sent a repentant little note over to Bob’s of- fice, by John, his father’s servant, who came to return an umbrella. No an- swer came, and.a couple of days later she heard that Bob had gone away on a buginess trip Jor the firm—gone w ith- out a word of ‘zood- -by. In all the city there was not a mer- rier“girl than Jeanne, but during the last ‘threé months ‘of Bob's absence there were times when in ‘the midst of a laugh’ a sigh would come and her sweet face become o'ershadowed. . Tonight she was. going over. to the church, and with. the assistance of sev- eral other young girls and men of St. Jude's arrange the flowers around the altar and ‘in the font, for an anniver- sary tomorrow; a service to commem- orate the twenty-fifth year of Doctor Prentice’s rectorship at the church. So Jeanne sat thinking in front of her glass, thinking of past happy times at the church, where from childhocd . Bob had always been with her, a ready and willing helper. She felt she could | not endure his silence longer. She must do something. But what? Bob had not answered her note, and was gone. Nothing could be done. Jeanne rose wearily to join her ex- pected friends as the doorbell rang; but somehow she could not. get her .mind away from Bob, and as they en- tered the church she thought of how last year he was there and how much _8he missed him now. Jeanne abruptly turned to Renwick Krecting, who had come forward to welcome her, and be- gan a lively conversation. But under the stream of idle chatter she heard dn loving memory Bob's voice, as he softly called her “sweetheart.” She was. sinking into reverie again, and aroused herself with a start. “What fo~lishness!” she thought. “I am wasting my time thinking about a man who has forgotten me.” At this moment the door in the chan- cel opened and a gentleman stood look- ing at the altar made so beautiful by the light fingers of the young girls. “Why; Mr. Marsden, is it really you?” they cried, running forward to meet him. ‘What had happened to Jeanne? She stood perfectly still, but the walls of the old church were spinning around; the electric lights bobbed up and down and the flowers and the altar seemed to float away in a great white mist. It was only for a second. No one hap- pened to look at her; no one noticed that she had’ turned as white as the lilies in her hands. In the round of handshaking that so |- heartily welcomed him, Bob came to- wards Jeanne and bowed gravely as he took her hand. She managed to greet him with a slight smile. She felt she must keep yp appearances, whatever happened. Every one here had known that Bob Marsden had ‘loved Jeanne, and it was generally thought that she had refused him. They should never know her punishment for a foolish mo- ment; never know that he had for- saken her and that her heart was breaking ip its intense l2nging for her oid playmate. And Bob? Well, he had come back because of the desire to sce his mother. and besides there had come such a floot of memories of Jeanne; 999993999 %00799090200 200 VVVVLVeVVR -about her heart. her | farnannd bright and happy face; the flitting of the color {1 her cheeks. He could not remain away and had come back—come back to find her enjoying herself, and the curate still in attendance. He had better not have come, and yet how glad he was and how his heart beat to see her sweet face again. The evening proved a weary one for both, and they were glad when it came time to go home. The crowd of young people parted from Jeanne at the door of the rectory with a noisy ‘good- night.” Bob did not touch her hand or speak as he raised his hat and start- ed down Fifth Avenue, with the rest.- Jeanne sobbed herself to sleep in re- morseful sorrow, and came down ia the morning with pale cheeks and heavy eyes. Her father, quick to notice the tone of her voice as she wished him ‘““good- morning,” said gently,— Are you well, dear?” “Yes, father, quite.” But the doctor, still doubtful, said— “Perhaps you had better not gd into the church this morning.” “Oh, yes, I must. You know I have a solo to Sing for you. I shall be all right.” But she wondered, -as she wearily ‘took her place in the choir, - if she would be able to sing with such an aching head and heavy heart. As Jeanne stood up her eyes wan- dered’ from her music to the crowded ‘church ‘below. Yes, there he was in his old seat, and for’ just: one seeond his ‘eyes looked straight into hers: : There was no-doubt about her sing- ‘ing now. Love, pride, something thrill- ed through the young girl. “1 know, that my ‘Redeemer? liveth” sweet burst of song from her lips. Nev- er once did she’falter: never had she sung so sweetly “before. Even her fath- er turned with & lock of wonder upon’ his face which settled itself -in a -rapt ‘expression of ‘adordtion of the Christ “as her voice rang out the yams! of "peace and comfort. After’ the service was over she -was slipping out of the vestry -door to reach the quiet of home, only-a few steps dis- tant, when she heard some one follow- ing her. Her heart gave a quick jump, but’ it was only Dannie. “Miss Jeanne, be you goin’ home? Won't you write a letter for me, Miss Jeanne, please?” It was most trying to have this re- quest come, just when she felt so ‘ner- vous and longed to be by herself. But she could not sce her way clear to re- fusing the boy who could not read or write himself. “Well, come on, Dannie, and I will write it.” Upon entering the hcuse she went to’ her father’s study table, Sit- ting down she said, “Now tell me what I must write for you, Dannie.” “Well, vou see, Miss Jeanne, it is this way. Mr. Mezrsden”’—Jeanne gave a start—‘has just come back. Last win- ter,” continued Dannie, “he gave me a letter to mail. I had an old jacket on ‘and the letter slipped down between the lining and the outside. I thought 1 had lost it. He went away the next day, so I could not tell him. After- wards I accidentally found the letter, but thought I had better keep it until I seen him again. But now I am afraid to tell him, Miss Jeanne, and I want you to write to Mr. Marsden and ex- plain it out to him. Mother says he won’t mind then. Do you think he’ll be awful mad, Miss Jeanne?’ The boy looked anxiously in her face. ? “Have you the letter?” said Jeanne, with a strange fecliig of tightness “Yes.” “Let me see it,” as the boy fumbled around in his pockets. . Yes, there it was in. Bob's bold hapd- writing—"“Miss Jeanne Prentice.” She stcod up and steadied herself ow holding on to the table. Then asking Dannie, much to his amazement, to ex- cuse her she flew to her room holding the letter close to her heart. “It is mine, mine!” The letter ran: — “lI am sorry that I was so unreason- able last evening. May I come over and tell you how sorry? Send me per- mission by John when he brings your father’s umbrelia. I think perhaps 1 may have to go away busin for the firm. “Yours faithfully, Bob.” A dozen tim read Joanne read and re- TTY. Glad to get and re es how much he m ' 3 have loved her. came’in a’ eighth. for a time on | ad to get it, and ¢ | but he « Sorry bec changed his ited after writ did he not come, or why did he not an- his? Suddenly her , almost seemed to stop beating. If one letter had been lost |; why not two! Pshaw! Jeanne Prentice, how ridiculous. Still, somehow idea haunted her, as she went to i nia that the letter had been written to her, and that she would explain the matter to Mr. Marsden herself, which arrange- ment pleased Dannie mightily. Just how she was going to do it she hard- ly knew, but Jeanne was not one to rest idle. Now that she had this let- ter she felt that things had. somehow. gone wrong and needed at least an ex- planation. She thought of John and remembered that he was to move some benches in the Sunday school room preparatory for an afternoon service. Going over to the church, after a few moments’ talk with her father, whom she found still lingering, and who ask- ed if she had sung her headache away she turned to John and said,— “lI saw this morning, John, tha{ young Mr. Marsden was at service That note that I gave you to deliver tec him—you remember the day before ha went away—you gave it to him per sonally ?” “Yes, migs,” Jeanne’s heart sank. She had not realized how strongly the idea had tak- en possession of her that her letter to Bob had been lost also, until the man spoke. Then it occurred to her that John’s glance was shifting; that he did not wish to meet her eye, and her cheeks burned as the thought came to her that he divined the reason of her question. Well, there was only one way. She must write a formal letter to Mr. Mars- den enclosing the one he had written to her and explaining the matter for the sake of Dannie, as she had promised, but she could not bring herself to ask any expianation as to his change of mind after the receipt of her own let- ter. But there was no need. While Jeanne with a dull pain at her heart, was trying to write out what she consider- ed a properly worded letter, John was walking slowly down the street in the direction of Mr. Marsden's home. Even after he had touched the button he looked around as if to find some place in which conveniently to hide, then suddenly bracing himself for a disa- greeable duty, entered, as the maid an- swered “yes” to his question if Mr. Robert Marsden was at home. Jeanne’s question had awakened memories in John. That letter? Oh, yes, he remembered it well. Jeanne’s ques- tion also brought to John’s memory an old saying something about “honest confession” -and his *soul;” doubtful if John’s soul’ would" have troubled him but’ for “the ~~ fear of 2 meeting and explanations between Jeanne and Bob. sib His old master’s scn weléomed: him warmly, After speaking offan'dc éident, that had incapacitated him: for much ‘hard work, John with ‘many Hegitations reached .the story he. .had ‘come ta:tell, whiéh was ‘to ‘the effect that Miss Jeanne had. given him a letter to de-: liver the day before Mr. Marsden had gone away. He stopped to see a fire on the way over, and in getting through the crowd had lost it. When Bob met him on his return and asked him if Miss Prentice had sent anything he was afraid to tell the truth and said “No,” intending to go ba¢k and tell { Miss Jeanne all about it. The next day Mr. Marsden having gone away he had let the matter drop, but thought now as Bob had come back he had better tell about the letter and so came around. John had not ealculated the effect of his story. Bob suddenly jumped up and taking him by the hand almost hugged him with delight; he told him it was all right. and as John walked slowly away from the house ten minutes later with the promise of a better position, he wondered if it would always pay as well to make an “honest confession.” Jeanne was still working over her letter, when she heard her father’s voice in the hall. But he was not alone. Who had come in with him? Her heart gave a glad bound as she recognized the well remembered voice and heard her father calling— “Jeanne, Jeanne, Mr. Marsden is here.” “Yes, father, 1 am coming.” Jeanne sat quite still for a moment. Why had be come? Then suddenly turning to the glass she gave a quick glance, and taking Dannie’s letter went slowly down the stairs, a new light in her eyes, a. new joy upon her face.— Waverley Magazine. The Vision of Reptiles. The best sense that reptiles have is that of sight, according to Viennese . naturalist named Werner, who has re- cently published the results of abgerv- ations cr nearly 200 snakes, lizards, frogs, ete. But even this sense is very dull. A crocodile cannot see a man more than six times its own length away, while fish can see only about half their own length. Snakes are still worse off. Some -cah“fee a quarter of their length away, while others are limited to one-fifth or one- Frogs are much keener sight- ed. They can tell what is going on a: a distance of 15 cr 20 times their own length. Most reptiles are nearly or quite deaf, but in compensation, all, according to Werner, seem to have a marvelous sense of the direction in 1 water lies. They will make a ne for it, says the Literary Di- even wken so far away that no known to us would } y them. Verner tl s this due to s« of attraction akin to chemic explain how or ng. WwW hy } ari ANABSO swer her note sent by John, even if it made nc mention of having received “hut its mind tema: Sten nei a ei see MARVEL LOUS TRALY LE, LUTELY Fi FIREPRCOF SUB- STANCE INVENTED BY IMS- CHENETZKY. It Iz Super ior to Anyi hing of the Kind That Has Yet Been Preduced—Will Prove Mos Useful for Building Purpcses. Have you ever heard of uralite Probably not, for it is a- new .inventi Yet it is well worthy of your notice, since it is superior to anything of the kind that has yet been produced. It is the invention of a Russian artillery of- ficer, and chemist, named Imschenet- zky, and its claim to distinction lies in the fact that it is absolutely fire- proof. Uralite is composed of asbestes fibre’ with a proper proportion of silicate, bi- carborite of scda and chalk, and it is supplied ian various finishes and colors, according to the purpose for which it is intended. In a scft form a sheet of uralite is like an asbestos board; when hard it resembles nnely sawn stone and has a metallic ring. Besides being a non-conductor of heat and elec- tricity, it is practically waterproof (and may be made entirely so by paint), and is not affected either by atmos- pheric influences or by the acids con- tained in smoke in large towns, which rapidly destroy galvanized iron, Moreover, it can be cut by the usual carpenters’ or wood workers’ tools; it can be veneered to form paneling for walls or partitions; it can be painted, grained, polished and glued together like wood; it does not split when a nail is driven through it; it is not af- fected when exposed to moisture or great changes of temperature, and it can be given any desired color either during the process of manufacture or afterward. Mr. Oliver J. D. Hughes, United States . consul general at Coburg, thinks highly of it as a fireproof build- ing material. Several tests, he says, have been made of it, and in each case the result has been most satisfactory. In order to carry out the tests, a small brick built house, an iron framed hut, lined and covered with uralite, and a duplicate platform were erected, and each was then fitted with pyrometers for the purpose of recording the tem- peratures electrically and was filled with highly inflammable material. To the house were fixed four strong decors, of oak, steel and uralite, and as soon as a fire was lighted inside they were shut. The highest temperature reached was 2350 degrees Fahrenheit, and. after the test it was found that in each case-the doors: had resisted ‘the fire. , In the hut was placed a deed box made of uralite and wood, and’in the box were placed some papers, a book, a crucible containing paraffin wax and another holding a pi lece of easily, tusi- ble metal. we py ‘After ‘being, siblected L to an éxternal heat of 2030 degrees Fahrenheit, the’ papers and the book were not affected in.the slightest aegree, and though the wood nearest the fire was charred right through the uralite was sound and the paraffin wax bad only melted slightly, -- = After ‘the fire had heen burning three-quarters of an. hour, those pres- ent were able to place their hands on any part.of the door which was cov- ered inside and cutside with uralite, though by that time all the woodwork had ‘been * burned off another door, which had uralite for its panels only. Other remarkable tests are also de- | scribed by Consul General Hughes in an official report which he has just sent to the government on the subject. “In the well equipped laboratory,” he says, quoting the words of an ex- pert, “one of the staff tcok a strip of uralite about one foot in length and one and a half inches wide, and alter- nately stirred up a bowl of boiling wat- er and a freezing mixture. In the lat- ter about an ounce of mercury was suspended in a test tube, and this rapidly roze into a bright bullet in the bottom of the tube. Some pieces of India yubber tubing placed in the mixture were alsobrokenwith the ham- mer like cost iron. “The strip of uralite, on the other hand, showed no sign of warping, lam’ ination or disintegration; in fact, it would have needed an expert to have told subsequently which end of it had been subjected to such severe changes of temperature. “That uralite can also withstand a great strain the two following tests show: In the first a cube one inch gquare was subjected to hydraulic pres sure, and 18.8 tons were registered be- fore it gave way. In the second, a strip nize and a quarter inches long, one and a half inches broad and seven sixty-fourths of an inch thick, which was placed between supports and grad: ually subjected toan increasing weight, did not give way until a weight of i5 pounds had been applied to it. That uralite will prove most useful for building purposes is the opinion of Consul General Hughes. “Owing to its extreme non-conductivity,” he says, “huts, “railway carriages, -barracks, hospitals and other buildings con- structed with it, while absolutely fire and water proof, are warm in winter and cool in summer. A room entirely covered with uralite three thirty-sec onds of an inch thick might have its contents burned, it is claimed, without any danger of the fire spreading.—New York Herald. Mr. vant Yv—Of course; | cies whic i ly away at the sigkt of man, | to the 1 | their THE WASHINGTON OF JAPAN, pln i Generai Viscount Katsuma Is Fameus for Courage. It is gencrally believed that the Japs ! soldiers, but few know who § are bravs iz the bravest and all. The Washingion of J eral Viscount Katsura, who prime minister two years ago. gan his fighting career in 1867, dur- ing the civil war which resulted in the overthrow of the cld order of things ir: the Land of the Rising Sun and the adoption of western civilization. groaren cf them Though only a lieutenant then, he be-.: y cour- | came famous for exir Horan age. He was always inthe thickest of the fight, always He first to volun- | teer to lead a forlorn hone. After the war his government sent Katsura to Germany to study military matters. On his return he took a lead- ing part in reorganizing the Japanese scldiery on the European model, and was practically creator of the modern Japanese army. In 1876 when a colonel, he was again sent to Germany, in company of the late General Ka- wakami, to inspect the German mili- tary system. The two officers were at that time regarded as the most prom- ising men in the entire Japanese army. Katsura became a major general on his return home and was vice minister of the war office under Oyama. In 1861 he was made lieutenant general. In the Chino-Japanese war he led his army through Corea to Manchuria, and later, under General Norzu, won many victories. His name became a terror throughout the invaded coun- try. In 18988 he was appointed war minister, which office he retained until the downfall of the Yamagata cabinet in 18G0. He became premier in 19201. Katsura was born in 1849 in the province of Nagato, generally called Choshiu, in the western part of the main island of Japan. This province has given birth to many illustrious statesmen and generals, among them Marquis Ito, Field Marshal Yamagata, and Count Inouye. The viscount be- lieves the Japanese are the best sol- diers in the world, and says he would not fear the result if he had to lead them against any white troops. One thing much in favor of the Japs is that they are so small the enemy can't find them. Nothing in Japan is tco gocd for Katsura. He is the idol of the people. All kinds of honors have been showered on him. At 55 he is ready to take the field. What is to be the future or Japan? The Greeks and Romans built splen- did temples of stone. All architecture was on a grand and imposing scale, de- signed to last as long as the world. Tcday the Greeks are a nation of harm- less fruit venders and sapless artisans. The Roman empire sustained by mac: arcni. Japan boasts no antiquities be- yond coins ‘and. idols. Her temples and malaces are constructed of pre- cicus' woods. There were no chairs or tables in the kingdom until in recent years. ‘The people sat upon straw mats and ate cut of small wooden salv- ers. What can be the future of a na- tion built pens straw ?—New York Press. nt GUAIR NT AND CURIOUS. A novel restaurant at the world’s fair will be one with the walls of the building made of glass 180kS in which will swim fishes. In Holland an unmarried lady inva- riably walks on the right of her es- cort, while a married ore takes Ler hushand’s left arm. a when a wife loses her hus- dces not don widow's 5 he simply paints the upper part of her face black. In attending a Mexican theatre tae admission is charged one act at a time; thus the rates are according to the number of acts in the play. Enthusiastic members of Londo: Audubon society propose a law to au- thorize the confiscation or all hats dec- ,orated with the skins of song birds. After the death of a reputed witen some pcasants of Hungary mutilated the corpse in the belief that she would otherwise reappear and suck the blood of living persons. The Rev. Mr. Cook of Concordia, Kas., has hought space in one of the papers pubiished there, meaking a year’s contract at regular advertising rates, and will print his sermons week- ly. The residents of tae village of Soli- Gull, a few miles from Birmingham, England, have so rocted an antipathy to the place being modernized that they have petitioned the district coun- cil azainst telephones. The Tamest Birds. Naturalists . commissioned by the United States government have dis- covered on the distant island of Lay-= san, in the Pacific, some new ‘birds and many novel fects in regard to known species. The visiting scientists were perhaps the first human beings whom the myriads of birds that crowd this tiny speck cf land had ever seen. In consequence, birds representing spe- in o ng hurried- me up - looked curio into their writing spected the tri- > ‘Accessories of the cam- permicied them be The fact that thes irds are ardod as the wild imj an is Gen- | became He be- 1! About the Clock. °p the clock in good order re- he pendulum ball, . take from case, remove all pendulum connections from wheel. "hen wind up, immerse in boiling water and let run down. Re- peat the operation once or twice and your clock will be thoroughly cleaned. Dry thoroughly in a warm place—not too hot. Now dip the end of a feath- er in some light cil (I use kerosene} and apply to all bearings and replace. in case. I have a ciock that has been running 18 years under above treat- ment and the wear is scarcely percep- tible.—Mark Bonnell, in The Epito- mist. Washing a Blanket. In washing a blanket a warm soap lather must be prepared from a soap jelly made the day before, and a little ammonia must be added to this, and the blanket allowed to soak for about a quarter of an hour to extract the grease. Then it must be kneaded and squeezed until the dirt is all loosened, and, if necessary, put through two, and even three, fresh lathers. The next process is rinsing, which must be done in warm water, and if no soft water has been obtainable, a tiny piece of ammonia to each rinsing water is a great advantage. When rinsing is over it is important that folding should be even and exact, and then the wringing through a ma- chine wiil act as mangling, also. Shaking well after rinsing, and then pegging carefully to clothes lines in the open air, and shaking occasionally by two persons while drying, are the final processes; except the “last and final” stretch between two persons af- ter they are quite dry, in order to keep them to their proper size—New York News. Two Handy Bags. One of the most convenient articles imaginable is a stocking bag. To make one requires a piece of large flowered calico or other goods and a piece of cardboard. Cut the piece of cardboard seven inches square, round off the two lower corners, leaving the top square, and pad on the outside with a little bat- ting. Then cover with the cloth, turn- ing and Tipring it over and under the edges. | Cut "a: Strip of cloth 15 inches wide and 50 inches long, hem it at the ends, leaving the hem wide enough to slip a tape string through. Gather the sides and sew to the covered cardboard, the straight edges to be used for the top. For a bag for spools.and thimble: take some bright colored material, cut a 15-inch square, then round off, the corners or make it perfectly round, if preferred. Line with some contrasting mdterial, turn in the edges , and” whip: over and over. Sew on at intervals six fancywork rings at the top, throug which run a piece of ribbon to hang up the bag with. This bag should be placed near the sewing machine for convenience.—New York American. SE Marking Household Linen. Tablecloths, certainly all fine ones, should be carefully lettered in embroi- dery. The rule for the placing of the letters is not absolute. There is a choice between putting them 40 inches from the corner diagonally, or on each opposite side of the centre of the cioth. In the latter case, for a five- foot table, the letters should be about 27 inches apart to place them at the requisite spot. The size of the let- ters for cloths should be frem two to three inches. They may be monograms or interlaced letters. Sometimes a housekeeper choosing a set of tabie linen selects a fern, rosebud or fleur- de-lis design, and introduces the same pattern in the group of letters which form the monogram or initials. The napkins should be marked with let- ters of the same general design—that is, if Old English is used on the cloth, they should be repeated in smaller size on the napkins. Where the latter shall be marked is a matter of indi- vidual taste. Ii the napkin is to be folded for the last fold, from each end in under the centre, the letters must be placed in the centre of that final square, the point to be easily found by folding the napkin, then marking it at the proper place. Some- times they are marked in the very centre of the napkin, and are folded to correspond when placed at the cover. A common way to mark is diagonally in the centre of the last square when the napkin is entirely folded. the base of the letters pointing toward the out- er corner of the napkin. The size of the letters should be from one to two and a quarter inches for napkins.— Harper's Bazar. Recipes. Potato Pudding—Boil one medium sized potato until tender, then rub it through a strainer; add four table- spoonfuls of powdered sugar, three tablespoonfuls of butter, three eggs. beaten, and the juice and rind of one lemon; pour into a buttered dish ang bake in a moderate oven thirty min- utes. tine Pudding—One-third box of e, four eggs, two cupfuls of su- r, juice and rind of two lemons. ‘0 cupfuls of milk; dissolve the atine in one-third cupful of the milk; eat the yolks of th ick; ade Iwo pr RE a a re - pm xs i SE if hi adve thar time dow: to 1 cont men in tl mus their are fluer ages. glvent and s final 1 —S0m ‘trine ginni witho such ¢ stant! from thoug is un every and t 10 po: which one Ss lay ho that t stone elatiol ing th kind tion 1 words becom is per to ad far of found edge o absolu and tc that v are en I ha clusive some 1] antee faith. its ori to an From vidual meng who w latitud pretat; Xak and ti
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers