Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, May 06, 1901, Image 2

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    FRFELfiND TRIBUNE.!
ESTABLISHED BSB.
PUBLISHED EVERY
MONDAY, WEDNESDAY AND FRIDAY, !
11Y THE
TRIBUNE PRINTING COMPANY, LimiteU
OFFICE; MAIN STREET ABOVE CENTRE. '
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curriers to subscribers In Froolandatthe rate (
of l-M cents per month, payable every two i
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ceive prompt attention.
BY MAIL - The TBIBUKB is sent to out-of*
town subscribers for sl.s:a year, payable in
advance; pro rata terms for shorter periods.
The ilato when tho suhpeription expires is on
theVldress lalicl of each paper. Prompt re
newals must he made at the expiration, other
wise the subscription will be discontinued.
Entered at the I'ostoffice at Freeland. Pa.,
as becond-Class Matter,
Make all money orders, ohecks. etc. t pnybli .
to the Tribune Tr.n'ing Company, Limited.
It is reported that relic hunters an '
buying up native spears and Polos ai !
such a rate in the island of Miudauac i
that tlie entire section will soon he ex
hausted. Is this another proof that -
trade makes for peace?
= I
The authorities at Harvard are talk- j
lug of cutting off the veter'nary
school from the university. They show (
commendable foresight. In a few years ,
a veterinary school will seem a less
I
essential appendage to a university ,
than a school for teaching the art of i
repairing automobile tires. Harvard !
cannot afford to bother with the few I
race horses that will represent all the ,
I
use the twentieth century will have
for the equine tribe, thinks the New
York Journal.
A Dawson correspondent of the To
ronto Globe notes that for ten consecu
tive days in January last'the average
minimum temperature in that far-off
corner of British North America was
sixty degrees below zero. The very at
mosphere seemed solidilied by file in
tense cold, and liquids.exposed in bot
tles to the outer air froze hard as
tnough they were water. When it is
considered that in the 'Alaska gold
mining districts there are from -10,000
to 50,000 persons from more southerly
climes who annually endure this fear
ful cold without murmuring or seri
ous discomfort, the mastery of man
over the elements is brought clearly in
evidence.
g 1
It is altogether probable tliat the
number of tramps in the country has
been overestimated. The tramp is a
perambulating person whose business
it is to go about, and who for that rea
son gets himself frequently counted,
and thus appears to bo more numerous
than he actually is. There is no doubt,
however, that in all parts of the coun
try there are more tramps than there
should bo. In Massachusetts, where
the subject of vagrancy lias been a
matter of State investigation, there
were 207,051 cases in 1899. The tax
laid upon private charity, of course,
cannot be ascertained but tho draft
iqion the public purse was .$33,080. In
towns where tramps were made to
work in payment for help afforded
them tho burden of support was very
light. There is nothing so abhorrent
to the soul of a confirmed vagrant as
labor. 110 seems to loathe the bread
he is made to earn.
Ancient Record. In Cliinm,
in the Temple of Confucius at Pekin
are a number of stone tablets covered
with inscriptions, which were discov
ered by the Chinese in the eighth cen
tury before Christ, and which,
undoubtedly, belong to a much earlier
period, which have been carefully pre
served since the time when they were
found. It is believed that the destruo
tion of the magnificent library of the
Han-Lin College, or national acad
emy, which stood just north of the
British legation in Pekin, and which
was destroyed by fire by the Boxers
during the recent siege, has been a
loss to the world comparable only to
the burning of the Alexandrian
library.
A BympatliY
A veteran lawyer tells this story
of a young man who was on trial for
murder in the first degree. Ho was
charged with killing his father and
mother, and the proof was conclusive
against him. The jury returned with
v verdict of guilty. The prisoner was
.ulled before the court to ha sentenc
ed, and as is the custom, tho judge
asked:
"If you have any reason why sen
tence should not be passed upon you,
you may give it now."
"I haven't any, judge," said tho pris
oner, "excepting that I think you
ought to have pity on a poor orphan."
There is n blacksmith in Gardiner,
Me., who has not lost a day's work
from sickness since lie began his ap
prenticeship, nearly a third of a cen
tury ago.
THt BLEST.
Who are tho blest?
Tbe.v who have kept their sympathies
awake.
Ana si-uttered joy for more than cus
tom's sake—
Steadfast and tender in the hour of need.
Gentle in thought, benevolent in deed,
Whose looks have power to make dissen
sion cense,
Whose smiles are pleasant, and whose
words are peace.
5 THE CLOCK J
J AND A HERO #
> 5
By Charles Donald Mackay. J
Tom Dean was ticket agent and tele
graph operator for the Union Pacific
at Wellsville, a settlement of not more
than a few dozen scattered houses, the
most pretentious of which was the "Ho
tel and Lunch Room." About a hundred
yards down the track from this popu
lar resort at "train time," stood a low,
one-roomed building, the station-
Tom's St Helena,
To an energetic, ambitious young
man, socially inclined, Wellsville was
well nigh intolerable; but Tom had
hopes and made the best of it. He had
removed his belongings from the hotel
to Mrs. Jordan's cosy little cottage,
where he made himself at homo. Ho
found Miss Jordan a charming com
panion and "years ahead of the ville
in every way." Nevertheless, the un
eventful days would drag, and the
nights— well, after the 5.50 "accom
modation" pulled out until 11.10, when
the west bound "express" dashed past,
one might as well have been stationed
in the middle of the Great Sahara —at
least, so Tom said many times.
One raw, gusty December night just
before the holidays, Tom with much
pleasure piled the three cases billed
through to Omaha on the truck and
ran them down the track, ready to be
hauled aboard the baggage car of the
coming train. He was not over fond
of work, hut this meant the stopping
of the express, the latest newspapers,
and good reading for several days. To
signal the express was an event.
Taking a last look at the lights, he
entered the station and slammed the
door alter him, as if to bar out the
loneliness of the dripping outside
world. The last light in the hotel had
gone out long before, the wind howled
in the wires, the red light blinked and
flickered.
"Well, of all the forsaken—"
The door opened suddenly, and two
men stepped into the room, followed
by a third.
"Hands up—quick!" the foremost
cried.
In less than two minutes Tom was
bound, gagged, and lying helpless be
hind the partition in the baggage end
of the room.
"He's safe. Where's Jim?" asked
the man who had spoken before.
"Down to th' sidin'," came the an
swer. "Set the white light."
The door closed quickly after them.
Out of Tom's bewilderment and con
fusion came the question, what did it
mean? Robbery? There was nothing
worth the risk at the station, and the
men had gone.
"Set the white light." That meant
the express would not stop.
"Down to th' sidin'." The blind sid
ing, an eighth of a mile beyond the
station by the sand hill! It ended in
the gravel bank.
The terrible truth flashed across his
mind. He turned cold —great heads of
moisture stood out upon his forehead;
"26," with its living freight, was to be
switched on to the siding at full
speed!
As the horror of it rushed upon him,
Tom strained at tho cords that bound
him hand and foot with a strength
,he never dreamed he possessed. It was
useless—the work -had been done well.
110 looked quickly at the clock —10.41—
in 29 minutes more the train would be
due. As he turned the knots of the gag
pressed into the back of his head.
Bearing heavily upon them, unmindful
of the pain, he moved his head, forc
ing his chin downward. They gave—
they moved! Again he tried, and again
until at last the handkerchief slipped
Ito his neck.
"Help! Help! Townsend! Bill!
:Help!" he cried. But his voice was
: lost in the mocking howl of the wind
I and he realized that the effort was
strength wasted and time lost.
Again he looked at the clock—only
26 minutes remained. How fast the
seconds flew! 25 —
The sharp click, click, click from
tho other side of the partition caught
his ear—a telegraphic message. " '26'
20 minutes late."
"Thank God, a delay!"
Forty-four minutes now—a gain of
20. The train, due at 11.10, would not
arrive until 11.30. Townsend relieved
him at 12. "Too late! Too late!"
rushed through his mind as he glared
at the clock. Then the light of hope
fairly blazed in his eyes.
The summer before, when he had
long, weary night watches, twice he
overslept because his alarm had failed
him, so, to insure his "call," he had
run a wire from the station clock to
a bell in his room at the hotel. Bj
an ingenious connection, when the
hands marked 11.45 the ringing of the
bell brought him violently out of the
land of dreams. When Tom was pro
moted to the shorter watch, and went
to live at Mrs. Jordan's, Bill Town
send, who succeeded him, fell heir to
his room and "the devil's own," as
Tom called the bell. The clock was an
imitation of the old-fashioned, big
faccd, caseless timepieces, with weights
and chaiim, and a long, heavy pendu
lum.
"Twenty minutes late," he muttered.
Tho hour hand was less than two
Inches from tho connection, but how
slowly It crept! If he could only move
that hand! His knees were free. Ha
drew them up toward his chin, shot
out his legs and came to a sitting po
sition; then, by a series of short jumps
and humps, he reached the wall, braced
his back against it, and with great
difficulty worked himself to his feet.
The pendulum swung close to his ear,
hut how could he reach the hand? Was
he to fail now?
His eyes quickly searched the room.
A few feet to the right was the win
dow, heavily barred, the torn shade
partly down. His glance rested on the
stick that weighted the latter—just
what he needed. New hope gave him
now strength. Inch by inch he edged
himself along the wall to the shade,
caught the stick between his teeth and
sank quickly to the floor. He had suc
ceeded—the stick was torn loose from
its flimsy fastenings. Back again, up
and along the wall he worked, until
he stood nearly under the clock. He
turned sidewise, raised his head until
(he stick pointed at tho hand, made a
terrific effort to reach it, failed, lost
his balance and fell heavily to the
tioor.
The bodily pain was nothing to him,
but he groaned in anguish at the loss
of time. He looked up—the clock had
stopped!
The hands marked 11. He could
reach the pendulum. It must be start
ed. There was still a chance of more
delay. Again the struggle to regain his
feet, harder now because of his grow
ing weakness. Nearer and nearer he
crept to the motionless rod—a nod of
his head would start it —
"My God," he suddenly cried, "why
didn't I think of it before? Is there
still time?" and seizing the heavy brass
disk at tho end of the pendulum in his
teeth, he raised his head and detached
it.
The rod, freed of its heavy weight,
swung rapidly back and forward, im
pelling the hands onward at a greatly
increased rate of speed. His eyes were
following the minute hand. He could
see it move; and the hour hand? Yes,
it was creeping along. Tom's strength
was going fast; he sank to his knees
and rolled over on the floor, hut his
eyes were fixed on that hand. How
long would it take to reach 11.45? Clos
er and closer it crept—now it touched
the iron connection and moved slowly
past it. The alarm had been sounded,
but til "re were IB minutes moro be
fore Bill would arrive. He strained
his ears to catch tne slightest sound—
the noise of the storm was all that he
could hear.
Click, click, click came from the in
strument—a message from Maysville.
"26" had just passed. Maysville was
12 minutes up the road—it must now
he 11.18, Tom tried to calculate the
time since the hands started on their
wild race, but his mind was a chaos
of mad thoughts. What if Bill did not
arrive in season? He rolled over on
his face and waited for the worst.
Tho door burst open.
"Hello, where are you?" It was Bill's
voice.
"Stop '26' —hold-up at Dyke's siding
—get men—" But Bill was gone.
The red light flashed up the track,
and "26" with a noisy grinding of
wheels and many jolts, came to a stop.
A posse was hastily formed, but when
the siding was reached nothing was
found but the open switch that meant
death and destruction.
The passengers and crew tried to
make Tom believe that he was a hero,
but he only pointed to the clock and
said:
"ft was the 'devil's own.'"
I'ei'iinn Imiipiitntloii.
The Persian's imagination is one of
his strongest characteristics, and it
has found full l>!ay In his religion.
When he split with his Turkish
brother over who should he successor
to Mohammed, he did it with the fa
natical enthusiasm with which he does
everything—except tell the truth. The
offspring of Fatima were henceforth
the sacred embodiments to him, and
when the Turks and Arabs with almost
equal fervor disposed of the imams by
various methods of murder held to be
polite in those days, the schism was
complete. The gulf between Shiltei
and Sunnite was fixed for ail time.
It has never narrowed. To this day,
in periods of stress between the sects,
the Persian accounts it a greater vir
tue to have killed one Sunni than a
whole company of Christians, and his
conduct at all times, whether in war
or business, shows at what value he
holds the Christian.
The cultivation of this religious ten
sion, century after century, has
wrought upon the Persian tempera
ment like <>. corrosive acid. To the
original formulae he has tacked on
horrors and deprivation, hunger and
laceration, enough to make an ordi
nary savage turn pale. I have seen
gentlemen of Indian tribes, shaken
by spiritual grief, cry like infants over
tho atonement service at the burning
of the White Dog, and listened to
some touching ululations at ceremon
ials in the uplands of Mexico. Even
the colored camp-meeting has its tear
ful side; but the Persians' doings in
memory of what happened to the
imams make these seem like children's
troubles. —Harper's Weekly.
A Monmnpnt to Dead HorsPß.
As Morioka. Rikuebu, Is the centre
of tho horse-breeding country, the
people there are going to erect a mon
ument called the "horse-soul monu
ment"—of course tho promoters are
convinced, like the pious Buddhists
they are, that the soul of this animal
is immortal —in memory of the horses
which wore killed in the 1894-1895
i war. Mr. Oglwara, expert of the war
; office, is making a design for the
monument. —Tokyo (Japan) Times.
Originnl Ylloomer Advocate.
Mrs. Mary E. Lewis, the last of the
original "bloomer" advocates, who
never abandoned the costume until
her death, has just died in Indiana.
Mrs. Lewis was one of the staff of
"The Lily," tho first woman suffrage
organ in this cci ntry, of which Mrs.
Bloomer was editor.
l>re*HO* on Nothing it Year.
There is said to be an American
woman in Paris who dresses superbly
on nothing a year, because she has a
fine figure and is a good advertise
ment for the fashionable dressmaker,
who clothes her. His creations are so
enhanced by the wearer's charms, that
she is besieged by inquiries for the
name of her couturier, who thus has
secured a greatly increased clientele
in the fashionable circle.
Kng!iHh Women's Ornaments.
Gun metal links, set at intervals
with threaded crystals, have taken the
place of "barbaric" muff chains, which
are laid aside during the prescribed
period of English mourning. Jet
combs in tho hair are taking the place
of tortoise shell. Black silk bows for
the hair, worn high in front, are the
only ornaments suitable for the coiff
ure.
Satin and tulle are being used In
stead of velvet neckbands, velvet not
being a strictly mourning fabric. A
narrow band is worn tightly clasping
the throat and upon it in front are
fixed pendant ornaments of pearls or
diamonds.
Pearls are accounted mourning
gems. Silver will be used later, but
gold will not be employed for many
moons.
(•own of Gray Cloth.
A very striking frock is of a fine
gray cloth with a rough surface. The
skirt is cut severely tight to tho knees,
after which a shaped flounce shows
insertions of black chantilly lace edged j
with chenille. Two of these inser- '
tions run up each side of the skirt. A '
tucked gray chiffon blouse, piped with
the chenille, is worn under a bolero
entirely composed of appliqued lace,
with a trelliswork of chonille and 1
mousseline do soie—a most effective
combination and an extremely becom
ing one. The sleeves of this bolero
come just below the elbow, and unJfer
these are seen the gray chiffon and
black lace ones belonging to the
blouse. A wide, pointed, swathed
band of black panne completes this
very fascinating costume. Another
pretty blouse to be worn with this
gown is made entirely of ecru lace
over white chiffon and shows long,
tight sleeves reaching right over the
hands. Tiny, fancy Parisian buttons
decorate the front of this blouse, hold
ing together some little straps of
turquoise velvet, the blouse pouching
well over the waistband in front, as
fashion decrees our bodices shall still
do.
New Witftli Fabric*.
The display of early wash goods is
exceedingly interesting in the matters
of coloring, design, and in fabric or
weave. The tendency at present is
toward sheer rather than thick ma
terials, but very thin organdie i 3 de
cidedly less popular than it was a year
ago. Batiste also has lost somewhat
of its favor. Swiss In numberless va
rieties, dimity, and thin mercerized
muslins have superseded all other
weaves in the lighter-weight summer
goods, while ginghams, in linen, cotton,
and Madras, cotton covert cloth, and
plain and fancy linens are the fa
vorites in heavier materials.
Tho new Swiss and dimity designs
all show a striving after the realistic
In the choice of floral decoration, very
large designs being chosen, and
colored as nearly as possible like the
original blossom. On the other hand,
embroidered figures on Swiss are often
of the same color and shade as the
material itself.
The especial characterises of the
wash goods now showing are the in
troduction of the satin stripe or dot,
the general adoption of a colored
ground with white pattern over it, and
the universal employment of mercer
ized effects. Tho latter treatment is
applied to cotton, linen, silk, and silk
and linen weaves of every variety,
and to thick and thin materials. Mer
cerized cottons, somewhat sheer, are
being combined with Valenciennes
lace, while the cotton cloths of a firm
er variety are embroidered or com
bined with the machine embroideries.
—Harper's Bazar.
Tlie High Chignon.
There are divided opinions unon the
new method, which is, of course, only
a revival of dressing tho hair low in
the nape of the neck. Women whose
faces have lost the fresh bloom of
earliest youth are ill-advised to adopt
It without a very earnest consideration
of their profile in the looking-glass,
when, should they be critical, they will
probably decide that the chignon is
trying and not nearly so "smart" as
the coiffure built high. There is a
droop about the effect that is quite
dowdy unless a special concentration
is made upor the tresses on the brow
and the crown of the head, tending to
raise them, and provide the height and
dignity that most countenances re
quire. But undoubtedly the fresh of
face and soft and round of counte
nance need not hesitate, and should
their hair be short, what prettier,
newer method is there of dressing it
than en queue? For the longhaired
there are coils; for the short all that
is needful is that the hair be turned
under and secured either with a rib
bon band or with a jewelled comb.
Many women will always cling to
the high coiffure, and just now it is
so becoming with the hair slightly
puffed and less waved, arranged from
the centre with a twist forming a
curl falling carelessly on the forehead.
The hair looped up to the crown of
the head, having two or three twists
interlaced with tulle, finishing in a
fanlike bow toward one side, is very
attractive and becoming to most faces.
A wreath of small roses arranged
around the crown and interlaced with
coils of the hair is another effective
evening coiffure.—New York Commer
cial Advertiser.
If You Wish to l ook Young.
The face is. without doubt, an index
to the heart, therefore if you wish to
look always young and charming, be
as happy as you can. Dress as well
as your means will allow, dress be
comingly and dress modestly; give
every attention to your underclothing.
Always wear nice petticoats, so that
when you raise your skirts your ap
pearance may be dainty. Wear good
fitting corsets; they should be re
moved as often as necessary. Never
wear soiled corsets and It seldom, if
ever, pays to clean them; better pur
chase another pair, or, better still,
have three pairs constantly on hand,
to be worn on alternate days, and a|
of them will be found to wear better,
to keep clean longer, and to be mors
healthful. Never lace a corset tog
tightly, as this will push the flesh
where It should not be and cause the
wearei's hands, face or nose to be
come red and swollen. For a slight
woman, corsets of medium length In
front with short hips and low in the
bust should be worn; for a plump wo
man a corset nearly the same length
all the way round is preferable. Let
the corset, whether worn by a stout
woman or a slight one, nearly meet
at the waist, but open wider at the
top and bottom edge; this will keep
the figure in trim. A stout woman
should clasp her corsets from the top
downward, whereas a slender woman
should fasten her corset from the
lower edge upwards.
Wear your hair neatly and becoming
ly dressed; if you have very little
hair you should, in justice to your self,
wear artificial. If the front hair is
Very thin an artificial fringe may be
necessary, but select one that is not
heavy or it will not look natural; if
the back hair needs to be added to,
select a switch that matches your own
in color and in texture, and do not
have it too heavy or too long.
It is the duty of every woman to
make herself as attractive as possi
ble. and every one should look her
best at all times, not alone from a
motive of self-respect, but because her
friends like to think of her as pretty
or dainty. As one advances in years,
to have pretty and fashionable clothes
it is not necessary to dress like a
young girl; the one great thing in
dress is to have it well made and well
hung and becoming. American
Queen.
Embroidered Swisses are marvels of
beauty.
Arabian lace collars are gems for
linen suits.
Fresh roses last well in the hair a
whole evening.
Velour crystal Is appearing in many
pieces of new neckwear.
Tucked skirts, made straight, are
nearly certain to be clumsy.
With a violet silk waist, a set of
amethyst buttons is a treasure.
A stunning cloth dress has a blouse
and flounce of panne applique.
White and yellow, with a touch of
biaclc, is almost sure to be lovely.
Materials are in every case cut
away from under laco insertions.
In the s'pring a woman's thoughts
lightly turn to thoughts of such colors
as gray and violet.
One new blouse coat boasts little
roar appendages that look like a swal
low's tail in flight.
Some boleros disappear up into noth
ing at the front, while others refuse to
cover Beauty's back.
Flounces are either plain, circular
affairs, or they are tucked or plaited
to a part of their depth.
Triple collars, the outer one en ap
plique, give a fetching finish to the
blouse for the linen suit.
Plain goods, wash or otherwise, re
joice in borders, which come In handy
for edging plaitings, as well as panels.
All-over tucking makes a pretty
dress. Cut in narrow gores it is most
effective if set together with inser
tion.
A floral hat may take the shape of
the frame underneath, or it may look
like a lot of blossoms caught up by a
whirlwind.
Under, or lingerie, sleeves come
ready to wear. They look curious
enough, being sufficiently long to
reach the elbow.
Those motal tags, which started out
mildly enough, have grown to four
inches or more in diameter, and in
this size are used to flnish off the
ends of broad ribbon.
Apple I'uddiner*
An easily made pudding that has
served an old housekeeper on many
emergency occasions is prepared by
making a mixture of one cupful of
flour, one cupful of sugar, one cupful
of milk, a half cupful of butter and
three eggs, and adding to it three
chopped apples and three-quarters of
a cupful of chopped raisins. This
should be baked in a moderate oven
about half an hour. Serve with hard
sauce.
Aspiirnuiis Soup.
Boil the stalks of two bunches of
asparagus until they are tender, sav
ing the tips for a salad. Drain and
rub them through a sieve. To the wa
ter in which the asparagus was boiled
add one quart of milk and the aspara
gus. Cook two tablespoonfuls of butter
and one tablespoonful of flour forthree
minutes, without browning. Add the
soup slowly and rub until smooth.
Have ready in the soup tureen one
half cupful of cream and the beaten
yolk of one egg, and pour the boiling
soup over them, stirring until thor
oughly mixed.
A Dessert for Children.
Stewed dates, served with or without
cream, make a delicious dessert and are
always hailed with delight by the chil
dren. Wash a pound of new dates
thoroughly and remove the stones. Put
them into a stewpan, cover them with
two cupfuls of cold water and let them
boil 10 minutes. Add to them the
juice of one lemon and half a cupful
of sugar and boil five minutes longer.
Strain the fruit from the syrup and
boil the latter alone for 10 minutes.
Put the dates into a pudding dish and
turn the syrup over them. One-half
cupful of finely chopped almonds, Eng
lish walnuts or pecan nuts may be
added to the syrup.
Cuban Coffee.
No bard and fast rules can be given
for preparing the delightful drink
known as Cuban coffee. but
the following porportions will
probably prove satisfactory for
a teacupful of pulverized coffee in a
flannel bag, suspend over a porcelain
dish and pour a little cold water ovef
at intervals until the mass is saturat
ed. The first drippings are poured
again over the bag and more water
added until the dripped liquid is thick
and black. Use in all about two cup
fuls of water, allowing the process of
pouring the drippings over the bag to
be repeated at intervals all day. To
serve, fill a cup nearly full with scald
ed milk and add a teaspoonful of the
black coffee extract.
How to Cook Vegetable*.
Vegetables such as onions, cabbage,
cauliflower and turnips may be made
more delicate and wholesome by al
lowing their odora to escape with the
Bteam while they are boiling. There
will also be less odor observable about
the house if this is done than if the
flavors are allowed to concentrate in
tightly closed vessels. While doubt
less a certain amount of nutriments
are lost by this means, the vegetables
by being rendered more palatable be
come more digestible.
The same is true of boiled meats,
and the lid of the kettle should be left
partly off while they arc cooking; oth
erwise there will lie a strong, unpala
table flavor. All green vegetables
should be boiled in an uncovered ves
sel. Some housekeepers claim that a
dish of steaming vinegar on the range
will prevent cooking odors from per
meating the house.
llouMeliold Hint*.
Mirrors, if at all well framed and
well placed, are usually a good addi
tion.
Pots and pans that have been burned
should be set to boil with cold water
and a lump of soda.
Flannels and other all-wool textures
should be both washed and rinsed in
waters of even temperature.
After washing fine lace pull it into
shape and dry it on a sheet of glass;
it will be ready for use without iron
ing.
When the smoke bells are suspended
over the gas burners to shield the
ceiling, it is better to have them come
as low as possible, but not closer than
12 or IS inches to the flame. *'
Do not put pans and kettles partly
filled with water on the stove to soak,
as it only makes them more difficult
to clean. Fill them with cold water
and soak away from the heat
Moulds in which blancmanges
are to be put should be wet to insure
their easy turning out; on the other
hand, in those to be used for jelly no
water should go, as it will crack the
jelly.
Parsley can be kept for winter use
in soups and sauces by plunging fresh
bunches of it intofslightly salted boil
ing water and boiling for three min
utes. At the end of that time it
should he removed and dried quickly
near the fire.
A room is dusted only when the dust
Is taken out of the room, and that is
done only when it has been carried
out of the room. This is done by us
ing a soft cloth to dust with and by
wiping the surface of each article slow
ly and with care not to throw the par
ticles of dust up in the air, whence
they will settle again instantly some
where else.