VOCATION. If I might choose my simple lot Far from the town and quite forgot, All in a sheltered nook and warm, 'Tis 1 would have a violet farm. No daffodils should me entice, Nor hyacinths with their breath of spice, The tulip with her painted hood For me should wither where she stood. Instead of sheen upon the sward, The modest violet I should herd, Instead of golden heads arow. Should see my violet harvest blow. Under an arch of wild, wild cloud, Below an opal mountain bowed, Alj in a lmmid world and cool. With winds and waters oeauiiful. *A MATTER OF CONSCIENCE. /T UMMEIt bad come nUt * the garden was O ablaze with sunshine *-—/ wnd white with blos / -5 fV ' soms but the old I HYt \ stone house at the / end of the straight j i / path that led from J-if J the gate looked sombre and melan ~ elioly. A gnarled apple tree tapped playfully at the closed shutters of one of the upper rooms, and even went so far, under extreme provocation from the wind, as to poke some of its blossom-laden twigs between the ramshackle slats. Dr. Eaton, who walked up the straight path through the sunshine, could not restrain a sigh of pleasure lit the beauty of the scene. Young and strong and healthy, life to him was good and delightful though at that very moment he might he hurrying in to the presence of death. A pale young woman opened the door in response to his knock, and without any form of greeting ushered him into the chilly hall and went be fore him up the stairs to the fioor above. "lie Is very ill, my poor little boy," she said as she opened the door of a bedchamber. "Very, very ill, I fear." The doctor stepped into the room. He stopped for an instant until he could accustom himself to the general dimness. The woman caught his arm. "Here," she whispered and drew him toward the bed. The young man took the child's tiny wrist between his lingers. Then he leaned over and laid his ear against the child's heart. "You think " she asked breath lessly. "I think," he replied, looking at her pitifully, "that your little boy " "Doctor!" "But we will do what we can." Then he issued some hasty directions and the .wo began to work silently over the little creature, who lay mo tionless and impassive under their hands. After an hour the doctor ceased. "Mrs. Grafton, you must send for your husband." "He is no better?" she asked, a look of agony creeping into her great dark eyes. "No better," lie answered. "But he does not suffer. Take comfort from that." She covered her face with her hands for an instant, and then said in a dull, quiet tone: "I am a stranger in Ellisville, and have no friend or acquaintance here. When Mr. Grafton went away this morning the baby did not seem so very ill, lmt he said he would ask you to call. 1 have no oue to send for him now." "Where Is he?" asked the doctor. "He has an office on Front street. He is trying to establish an insurance agency here." "I will go for him," said the doctor, and turned away. Late that afternoon the tiny spark of life that llickerojl in the child's breast went out. Afterward there Were weeks of illness in the old stone house, and when the garden had dis carded its blossoms and become y very bower of green Marlon Grafton, a shadowy creature, with the saddest of dark eyes, walked down the straight path beside her husband, and the gate of the old garden closed upon them forever. } cars sped away. The doctor, who bad never married, still lived on the same street and liis housekeeper was fretting and fuming, partly because there was a lady waiting to see him, and partly—and more particularly— because his dinner was growing crisp and dry in the oven. She went, to the front door and peeped in at the deli cate looking little woman who had sat parienty waiting for the last half hour. "The doctor's late," uhe said, "but p'raps you don't mind waitiu*. How far did you say you'd come?" "From Grim by," replied the woman. "Did you say Dr. Eaton was quite ft middle-aged man?" she added anx iously. "1 didn't say. ma'am, but I s'pose you'd call him so in p'int of age. Ah, here he is now." From the window the lady could see a doctor's gig draw up at the curb and a tall, dark man with grizzled beard descend from it. The doctor entered and looked in quiringly at Lis visitor with keen, kindly eyes, hue rose and said a little uncertainly: "I—l am afraid I have made a mis take, and that you are not the doctor I'm looking for." Somehow the face and manner of the woman brought to Dr. Eaton's mjnd fin elusive memory of a May morning What airs across my farm should fare! 'Tis sweet where pinks and roses are; But pinks and roses hide the face Before a violet-peopled place. Though white and purple babes be born When dafodil his Haming horn O'er quiet hills and vales shall sound And stir the sleepers underground. What country bliss can equal mine, With violets for my flocks and kino, With violets for my corn and store? What could a mortal wish for more? Under a mountain pansy-dark, Loved of the eagle and the lark. And set too low for fear or harm, 'Tis I would have a violet farm. —Katharine Tynan, in the Spectator. and a darkened room with the scent of apple blossoms wafted through closed blinds, but the impression was vague and transitory, and was gone before he could attach any meaning to it. "You wore not looking for me, then?" he asked. "If you will tell me tlfe name of the man you want to find perhaps I can help you." "I—don't know his name—l—don't remember it," she said, with a Hush and a little deprecatory smile. "I've been to a great many doctors in Ellis ville and have not found him—l'm afraid he must have goue away—or be dead." Dr. Eaton looked puzzled and sat for a moment, his eyes narrowed in thought and his fingers heating a noiseless tattoo on his knee. The woman watched him silently, the color coming and going in her pnie face. 'You—you dou't remember .a Mrs. Grafton?" she asked at last with some eagerness. "Mrs. Grafton—Mrs. Grafton," he repeated, shaking his head. "She is not a patient of mine." "Not now, but—somehow, I feel as if you must be the mau I am looking for. Is there any way you can find out whether you had a patient named Grafton twenty years ago? Oh, it is very important that I should know,' she concluded earnestly. "I will consult my hooks of that time," he said kindly, and arose. As he walked across to the closet where lie kept these records of his early struggles the woman's eyes fol lowed him with eager intent ucss. Sud denly she got up and ran to his side. "Ah, 1 know it is you! The moment you walked away I knew beyond a doubt. It was just as If I were back again in the room where my baby died and saw you leave me to go for my husband! Oh, you must remember me! You tried bard to save my dear little boy. 1 lived in an old stone house that stood in a big garden. I was ill after my baby died and you attended me—so kindly—so well! and then we went away and did not pay your hill. It is twenty years ago, and you are changed, but I know you now!" Dr. Eaton had turned and was look ing thoughtfully down into her eager face. At last he said slowly: "I tnink 1 do remember you—yes, 1 know I do. Is there anything I can do to serve you, Mrs. Grafton?" "Yes," she answered. "When we went away from here we were very poor. We could not pay you, nor pay for the burial of the baby"—lier eyes dropped and she clasped and unclasped her hands nervously. "But oh, how I wanted to. For a time nty husband was very fortunate, and made a great deal of money, but the debts I speak of, while the thought of them drove 1110 almost wild, did not seem to trou ble him. When I urged their payment he always grew impatient, and said tlioy belonged to a time lie could not bear to think of. He thought I was heartless to remind him of them. You see," she added hastily, "the loss of our little boy preyed upon ids miiul and made him depressed and morbid. So at last I ceased altogether to speak of the matter, and made up my mind that somehow—some time—l would pay them myself. I never relinquished my purpose, and in all the years after, whether we prospered or whether we s'ruggled for a bare existence, I never touched the sum 1 had put by as a nu cleus, hut added to it, little by little. And now I thiuK I nave enough. It lias taken a long time, and only God knows what a haunting horror has been to nie the thought ihn.t my little child's funeral expenses--that I felt to he a sacred debt—were still unpaid and lay like a blemish on his innocent memory. And now, will you tell me ! how much I am to pay you. and do what you can to help me find the un dertaker?" The doctor sat thoughtfully for a moment. Then he glanced up and Hashed a smile at his visitor—a smile of such surpassing sweetness that she felt herself smiling, too, half tearfully, in sympathy. "Twenty years is a long time to re member a little bill like mine," he said. "It cannot be a little bill." 1 "You came here from " "Grimby," she replied. "And you have dined?" "No—o." 1 "Then you must oe my guest, and af terward 1 will help you find that man v to whom you owe—the other bill. I think I remember who it was. Are (k you and Mr. Grafton living in Grim i by?" jj "Mr. Grafton bag been dead some years," she said. "I am teaching | school there." It was well on In the afternoon when the doctor and Mrs. Grafton returned I from their interview with tha under- J taker. "I cannot tell you how much I thank J you for helping me." she said. "And I now please tell me how much yours j was." "I assure you I never gave the mat ter a thought after the llrst. Let it rest," he sMd earnestly, "and some time—" "Oh, no." s?e interrupted, "It must be to-day: indeed, it must. I shall al ways remember you with the greatest gratitude, but don't you understand how I feel about this?" "Very well, as it is a matter of con science with you," lie replied. In one of the old ledgers he found the name of Grafton, and making a quick calculation, announced that the indebtedness amounted to sl3, which she handed over to him, with a look that showed how important she deemed the matter. "And now," she said, holding out her little shabbily gloved hand, "good by. I will never be able to thank you." "I'm not your physician," said Dr. Eaton, "but I'll take the liberty of pre scribing a seat in my gig for you. I have a patient to visit near the town road." lie spoke as one unaccustomed to having his directions disputed, and Mrs. Grafton submitted smilingly to his decree. So they drove away to gether in the late afternoon sunshine. As he glanced nt her from time the doctor saw the look of relief in her face deepen to one of quiet content. When they had reached her lodgings he said; "I come to Grimby some times"—he had always hafbd Grimby and avoided it on a principle—"and I shall call and see you if I may." She smiled her assent. The doctor held the slender hand In his for a moment and then let go with a smile. He watched her walk up the path in the setting sun. "A good little thing—a pretty little thing," lie said to himself. "And it was a matter of conscience with her." Then ho got thoughtfully into his gig and drove away.—San Francisco Call. AN EARTHQUAKE AT SEA. The Experience of a Sailing Vessel On the Mouth ol* the Columbia ltlvcr. The British ship St. Mirren that ar rived at Astoria, Ore., recently from Yokohama, experienced a phenomenon j on the voyage. It was about <5:30 when Captain Cordlner, the bar pilot, boarded her from the schooner San j Jose. The wind at the time was blow- ! lug light from the south, and there ' was only a moderate swell on. Suddenly the sea to tile southward was seen to bo iu commotion, ns if a hurricane was blowing, but the wind j did not increase ns an immense wave approached the vessel. The ship was j tossed about for over two hours in a j sea that would bury her in the water and then again lift her up and drop her down. The seas frequently washed clear over her. After this had continued for about two hours it sub- '■ sided ns quickly as it had arisen, and the wind immediately shifted from | south to east, then in a short time to northwest, going almost around the compass iu a few hours. The wind from the northwest was soon in the [ nature of a gale, and the ship was un- j der lower topsails during the night, i but no Injury was done to her. Cap tain Hamilton and Captain Cordlner at iirst thought that a tidal wave was I coming, but the long succession of big waves leads them to the belief that there must have been an earth- ; quake in that vicinity. The self-recording Government ba- \ rometcr in the office of Weather Observ-! er Johnson shows that about 4 o'clock a. m. there was an electrical or seis mic disturbance in this vicinity and the telegraph wires also gave evidence of it nt the same time. While the ship was experiencing the waves oil' the ntoulh of the river the barometer remained steady. This would indi cate that the waves resulted from an earthquake that happened early in the morning, and as the effect of an earthquake in Japan is felt here ten days later, it can be estimated how far away it was. Spectre of the Itrocken. The summit of the Itrocken, or Bloeksberg, the highest of the Hartz Mountains iu Prussian Saxony, pre sents a singular optical phenomenon eight or nine times during the year. It is usually seen at sunrise or sunset and consists of a gigantic projection of the observer, or observers, upon misty clouds, which rise out of the valley on the side of the mountain opposite to the sun. Sir Walter Scott wrote of it: "Among the various le gends current in that wild country there is a favorite one, which sup poses the Tlnrtz to be haunted with a kind of tutelar demon, in the shape of a wild man, of huge stature, his head wreathed with oait leaves, and ids middle cinctured with the same, bearing iu his hand a pine torn up by the roots. It is certain that many profess to have seen such a form, traversing with huge strides, in a line parallel to their own course, the oppo site ridge of a mountain, when divid ed from it by a narrow glen; and, in deed, the fact of the apparition is so generally admitted that modern skep ticism has only found refuge by ascrib ing it to optical deception." Nnrae'B Heroic Method. A small maiden of the west side dislikes her new nurse. "But why?" asked her mother. "She seems very kind to you." "If site washed your face round an' round like a plate you wouldn't l.nk she was kind," said Dolly.—New York Commercial Advertiser. i— ——i | TALES OF FLECK | and amm i s ? A l>miu:or>UH Occupation. ~T~ ~T AMBUKG Is a city of strange industries, but perhaps the I most interesting among them nil is that of Carl Hagen boek. The London News, describing the great garden where his stock in trade is kept, says that it is crowded with wiid beasts of every kind; for Mr. Hagenbeck is collector of wild beast for almost every menagerie in the world, and has dealings with ev ery savage land. When the News man visited the place, eighteen polar bears were to be seen in one part of the grounds, and not far off were a dozen elephants, newly arrived from India. Half a dozen condors from South America were waiting to be un packed, and scores of alligators wore playing together as if in their native Florida; while lions, tigers and panth ers were stowed away in great num bers. Speaking of the narrow escnpos he bad had iu the course of his dealings with wild animals, Mr. Hagenbeck said: "One of the narrowest was from a young elephant. We were dispatch ing some beasts in a vessel, and I was at the dock superintending their em barkation. A young elephant had been worried on its journey down. It was tied up with a chain long enough to permit Its moving about somewhat, and I was standing with my back to it, near the wooden side of the compartment. "Suddenly, without warning, it turned and rushed nt me. It pinned me to the wall, its tusks going on either side of me. My men ran up and dragged me from between the tusks, and I fainted away. In a mo ment I opened my eyes and told them to lift mo on my feet and see if I could stand, for I was afraid my back was broken. They found I could stand and I was helped home. The ele phant's tusks hnd Just iitted me, graz ing the skin on each side, but not even tearing the flesh." Another adventure was perhaps even more dangerous. "It makes me hot and cold when I recall It," Mr. Hagenbeck said. "A case of rattlesnakes came to me, and noticing an unpleasant smell, I put my arms over my face for shade and peered into the case. I saw that there was a dead snake there. "Just then one of the rattlers jumped up, and threw itself against the iron bars In an endeavor to get at me, spitting in its rage. I took no more notice of it at the time, but next morning my wife drew my attention to the sleeve of my coat. The sleeve was covered with a great patch of greenish stain, the green crystals glis tening on it. I "It was a liot summer, and my face was colored with a heat eruption. Had a little of this poison pone on my face I must inevitably have died the most horrible of all deaths." Mr. Hngonueek was once dragged through the streets of Suez by a giraffe that had got free from all its ropes except one that was round Mr. Hagenbock's body. In spite of all his adventures, how : ever, he feels at home among his an imals. "Jenny," the walrus, is his ! especial pet. She comes clumsily out of the water when he calls her, and waddles up to him. She performs on i bells, and can summon attendants to i give her her meals. Her food is an ex i pensive item, costing nearly four dol i lars every day. It must bo fish of the ] best kind, with no skin or bones. A walrus is too valuable to be denied any dainty. Awful Experience €>f a Young Woman. j For nearly eighteen hours recently i Miss Florence Irene Leonard, of Ar ; llngton, Ga., was captive on top of the observation tower across from Pros pect Park, Niagara Falls, and all night long her cries for help were drowned 1 by the awful roar of the cateract. .She was over 1100 feet above the earth, and now she lies at her boarding house suffering from the shock of the ter ; rible experience. Miss Leonard is en gaged in missionary work. In the afternoon she took her little Bible and ; prayer book and went to the park. She wandered about the reservation jin search of new pleasures and j scenes and then went down the in clined railway. On returning to the top of the bank she went up the obscr i vation tower, intending to complete her sightseeing by one grand look over | nil Niagara's beauty. ! It was 3 o'clock when she was taken to tiie top in the elevator, and the j car descended. Miss Leonard feasted I on the sight before her, and when | she was ready to descend she waited, expecting the car would come up every I minute. The minutes grew into j hours. Afternoon gave way to even j ing and evening to night. The wind i freshened and the night became chilly. She was dressed for a hot afternoon | and she shivered in the dampness and sold. ( The thought of passing the night in the tower terrified her. She shook the iron railing and the elevator gates, I but there was no answering sound. | The roar of the falls and the sighing ! of the wind were the only sounds that I cniuo to her. Her bodily discomforts j were increased by her increasing norv ! ousnoss, as she realized that she had been forgotten. She thought of writ ing notes and dropping them to the street below, but she had no pencil, j The number of persons seen under the electric lights far below in the streets decreased and she knew that the city was going to bed. It was then 1 all hope of being rescued that night fled, nnd nhe crouched down behind a portion of the ironwork as glic sought shelter from the rain tlmt began to ! lull. In utter misery and in a great- I ly agitated frame of mind she knelt there all night long. There was a streak of light in the east and slie felt that day was about to dawn, aud the hope grew that she might attract the attention of people below. She tried, but it was useless. At 9 o'clock she heard n clanging of the elevator chains and she was overjoyed. It was the first trip of the morning and when the attendant stepped out of the elevator and saw the poor girl ho was amazed. He real ized it nil, nnd as quickly as possible lie took her down to the hotel below, where medical aid was called and she was removed to her boarding house on First street. The shock and the exposure were very severe on her, and it may he that she will never be herself again. Saved by Ilia Insanity. North American Indians always treated with great kindness the in sane and the feeble-minded, believing that they would he punished for any injury to persons so unfortunate. Gen eral Strong tells how this belief of the Indians enabled Professor Hayden, of the United States Geological Sur vey, to escape from a dangerous pre dicament. One day, after having filled his sad dle-bags and pockets with pieces of various kinds of rock, tlio professor found that he had wandered far from his party, and started in search of them. Seeing some men on horseback, aud supposing that they were his friends, lie rode toward them, but, to his horror, discovered that they were Indians. Knowing that he was in the coun try of hostiles, he turned his horse and attempted to escape. But his sad dle-bags and every pocket were full to overflowing, as was also the tin box containing hugs aud insects which hung at his side. Thus handicapped, lie made but poor headway. The lu dlans soon overtook him, and in sign language ordered him to dismount. They proceeded t ouce to make an inspection of his possessions. Ho had nothing with which to defend himself, his outllt being a poc-ket-kuife, ham mer, chisel and watch. These they took and then began to plunge their hands into his pockets, bringing them out filled with the rock specimens. Again and again they did this, until pockets, poucli and saddle-bags were all emptied. As the pile of stones in creased upon the ground beside him, the Indians hurst into loud laughter. Finally they opened the tin box, anil when they saw nothing in that hut bugs and other insects they quickly closed it, and looking at one another, and then very closely at Professor Hayden, they touched their fore heads and made the sign signifying crazy. Then they gave back all his things, even picking up the specimens and re placing them carefully in his pockets, pouch and saddlo-bags, and in the sign language told him to mouut his horse aud go on. lSlcycllstH Itldn a Viaduct. Ilenry Wesson and Elbridge nart, two New York tourists, hold the rec ord for riding the Erie viaduct nt Lancshoro, N. Y". It was the result of n wager. The viaduct is over a quarter of a mile in length and stands 1100 feet from tlio ground. It is used by the Erie and is not designed for passengers. A stone coping twelve Inches wide runs along the outer edge, unguarded by rail or anything else. Within tlio past two years many per sons have fallen from the structure, striking the rocks below. Wesson and Hart were making a bicycle trip from Bualo to their homes in New York, nnd when Lancshoro was reached Hart dared Wesson to ride the structure, supposing they could go between the rails. When It was found that the outside coping was the only place available, he tried to back out, hut Wesson laughed at him and wagered §5 that he dared not ride it. Thereupon he started across on his wheel. Wesson following. Down in the valley a breathless crowd watched the exploit, for the slightest wabble would have dashed both to their death, or an approaching train would have shaken them off. They ar rived at the other side, however, both in a cold sweat and bauiy scared. They declared that all the gold in the country could not induce them to repeat the performance. Keiimrkttlilo UM*CU at Sea. A letter just received from Captain Warner, late chief officer of tlio Amer ■ iean liner St. Paul, hut now master of tlio Cape Nome steamer C. D. Lane, contains a remarkable story of his young brother's escape from drowning. Young Warner, an apprentice hoy on the British ship Bnrtillan, then on her way from Cardiff for Santa Ito snlin, was fishing from tlio bowsprit one morning before breakfast, when he fell overboard. A life buoy was thrown to him, but by the time a boat was lowered the ship had run beyond him, and he could not l>e found. Back and forth for three hours the boy's shipmates rowed, hut not a trace of him could they find. The boat was then recalled; the Bar illlan's commander reasoned that un der the influence of the wind the ship would gradually lag to leeward, while the life-buoy would not he so nffect "cd. Accordingly, he gave orders for the yards to ho braced up, nnd, put ting the Barfillan to the wind, he endeavored by short tacks (o recover the lost ground. After eight hours' persistent searching, the life buoy, with young Warner clinging to it, was found. He was quickly got aboard and in a short time was as well as ever. There are only fifty-six Chinese newspapers in China. -HOUSEHOLD AFFAIRS To Clean Mirrors. ' To clean and polish mirrors and window glass with little rubbing, mix some powdered whiting with water and make a thin paste. Make a hall of linen rag, dip this in the liquid and rub all over the glass surface. Then wipe with a dry eloth and rub with a chamois skin. Only a small portion of the glass should be cleansed at a time, as the whiting is difficult to re move if it is allowed to become thor oughly dry. In cleaning mirrors with this care must be taken not to rub the whiting on the gilt frame. Cool Summer I'illown. Paper pillows are not as much In evidence as they were a year ov two ago, but it is known that the: is a steady demand for them at hospitals, where their use is ot'teu much appre ciated. The paper should not be cut into tiny squares, and so packed in a case, but rather into strips about three inches lon# and about a quar ter of an inch wide. Then, with a dull-bhided knife, each strip should be curled as are ostrich feathers. A case stuCfer with paper prepared in this way makes a light and soft pillow, and is a great improvement over the one made by the other method. A'Clotli For Summer UplioUtery. At the time of year when the first warm days bring a desire to banish heavy draperies and carpets, plush and woolen cushions and everything that has the slightest suggestion of stiffness, India grass cloth is one of the most prized fabrics. It not only looks cool, hut it is so. It is not as expensive as it appears. It is excel lent for pillow and cushion coverings nnd for covering couches, chairs and the tops of tables. It comes in stripes of many varieties, colored in the satis factory Oriental fashion, atul is adapt able to almost any kind of wood, al though it looks particularly well with the green stain so niucn in fashion for summer furniture. Large tassels, made of linen thread, in the same colors as the grass eloth, ore most effective as a finish lor couch corners and the like. Next to grass cloth, linens nnd den ims which come in all grades from the coarse, cheap sort that are effect ive for certain purposes to tlie linost varieties, are popular for summer fur nishings. Keeping Ilousehohl Accounts, An expense book, which shows at a glance the expenses of each depart ment of the household since its estab lishment, is the pride of a Brooklyn housewife. The book accounts for every dollar spent and shows all money received. Such a system, she declares, prevents one from uncon sciously exceeding her income, and by the different classifications of ex pense shows excesses as soon as they begin to appeal 1 . The totals at the end of each month give the actual total cost of living, as well ns the act ual income, and make It easy to de cide where increases and decreases can be made. The hook also leaves no room for doubt regarding the relative expense of taking meals out and at home, or hoarding and keepiug house. The hook used i.5 a special column journal and has columns for receipts, table expense, house expense (includ ing servants' wages, lee, laundry, rent, gas, coal, etc, general expense, furniture, entertainments and invest ments. The husband, wife and baby each have a separate column. The time spent in keeping the expense in this manner, after it is once started, does not average ten minutes a day, including all footing up and balanc ing. .lOIi Apple Salad—Two cups thinly sliced apples, one cup pecans crumbled luto quarters. Mix and sprinkle with salt. Arrange on lettuce leaves or celery tips, aud moisten with French dress ing. Chocolate Biscuits—Mix bitter choc olate powder with the beaten whites of eggs, and sufficient powdered loaf sugar to make a paste. Mould this 1 into small, round biscuits and bake them at a gentle heat on a sheet of white paper. Lettuce Soup—Shred fine the hearts of two small heads of lettuce aud put them into one aril one-half quarts of hot stock; season with pepper and salt and cook gently for thirty minutes; heat the yolks of two eggs until light, add to them one-half cupful of cream and stir the mixture into the boiling soup; remove from Ik - lire and serve at once. Cocoanut Biscuits—Break up the whites of four eggs with one pound of powdered sugar aud a little wa ter, add a cup of fresh grated cocoa nut nnd just enough of Hour to make the mixture firm. Butter the surface of sheets of paper, or sheets of tin if you can procure them, and iay the paste on in spoonfuls, sprinkling with tine sugar, and hake in a moderate heat. Tea Lakes—One teacup of sugar, even measure, one-half cup of butter, throe tablespoonfuls of sweet milk, one nnd one-half cups cf flour, even measure, one rounded teaspoonful of baking powder, one-half cut) of chopped hickory nuts. Stir tldeklv to gether without beating. Fill patty pans half full anil bake in a moder- ' ate oven twenty iriuutes. They rise very light.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers