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The young man who thought work
more terrible than death never knew
what makes life bearable to the great
majority of men.
Berlin gossip has it that the Kaiser
will be attended hereafter by n body
gt ard of wheelmen. Every one of
them will, of course, ride a "safety."
Russian naval experts have been ex
perimenting in the Finland Gulf with
charged Whitehead torpedoes—a novel
and costly method of scientific naval
inquiry not likely to bo imitated 911
nil extensive scale. It has been demon
strated that a shot penetrating a
charged torpedo tube would not de
tonate the explosive, hut only destroy
the motive power of the projectile by
releasing the compressed air. A henvy
charge of gun cotton exploded near
the beau of another torpedo caused
wholesale destruction—the missile, shed
containing it, and a number of sheep
grazing near at hand having been
wiped out. In a subsequent test a
pontoon sheathed with heavy armor
plate was blown into the air by a
single torpedo directed against the pro
tecting armor. To t.hui supplement
theories of explosives by actual prac
tice of sllsO per torpedo Is clearly a
commeudable feature of original naval
research.
Dr. Gaylord, of Buffalo, N. Y., an
nounces that he has discovered tho
organism or germ of cancer and Is
now to set about discovering n rem
edy to cure the disease. This follows
the usual course of modern bacter
iology, which works from effect to
cause and thence to cure. The cancer
germ has been among tho most stub
born of all the bacterial roots of dis
ease. Announcements of its discovery
have been made from time to time
for several years, but without being
followed by sufficient proof to war
rant a general belief. Tho present
declaration from Buffalo may meet
the fate of its predecessors, although
it is made with a conservatism of
statement and an abundance ol' refer
ences to warrant its provisional ac
ceptance, thinks the Washington Star.
There is loss need for caution in such
a case than though tho alleged dis
covery were of the long-sought cure,
which would demand the most exact
proofs to lead tho often fooled public
to accept It as truth.
The Value of Tnet.
A story of the wonderful tact, kind
ness and hospitality of one of tho
leaders of Baltimore society, who died
recently, is told In the Baltimore Sun.
At one of her famous receptions a
rather awkward youug uiau, with lit
tle social experience, accidentally
knocked over and smashed one of a
pair of beautiful aud costly vases.
Seeing his chagrin aud embarrassment
the hostess immediately put him at
his case by declaring; "Oh, Mr. , I
am so mtich obliged to you for break
ing that vase. I never did like it, and
I have been hoping that I could get
rid of it somehow. Now that you have
given me the excuse, I am going to
give myself the pleasure of smashing
the other one," which she accordingly
proceeded to do, although she prized
tho vases highly.
It is said that to a shop girl or a
theatre ticket seller or any one else
who did her some favor or act of cour
age, her thanks were so charming that
the person thanked fuirly worshiped
her thereafter.
—Notwithstanding the length of
time which lias passed away since the
famous wrecks of the Trenton and
Vaiidalia at Apia, Samoan Islands, the
native divers of that harbor continue
to discover objects of curiosity and in
terest at intervals. Under the arrange
ment between the United States and
King Malietoa such articles as may be
recovered are regarded as the property
of the rescuer.
—Cincinnati has an organization of
capitalists called "The Tropical Com
pany." It. has large laiiu holdings in
Honduras, on which the cultivation
of bananas is conducted 011 an exten
sive scale.
THE TRAVELLED MISS TREE. *
A *
*
£ BY HENRY DICK.
Most little girls are fond of stories,
and Annie MacFarlane was no excep
tion to the rule; but then, she was the
fortunate possessor of a grandmother
who could tell the most charming sto
ries in the world. Of these Annie's
favorite was a really, truly, live story
that had happened to grandmother
herself when she was a little girl. An
nie called it the "Lydia Tree Story,"
and twice a year, for a few days at
Christmas and a for a good long time
in summer, when she went to visit her
grandmother, they began at once with
poor Lydia.
"Haven't heard anything from Lydia
Tree yet, have you, grandmother?"
Annie would call from the carriage
door.
And grandmother always shook her
head and smiled, it seemed a little
sadly, as she said: "Nothing yet, my
dear."
This was the story:
When grandmother was a little bit
of a girl she did not have as many
playthings as little girls have now,
and the few she had were so plain and
home-made that the children of to-day
would consider them very poor affairs
indeed; but to grandmother they were
simply beautiful. never having
dreamed of anything any finer than
her simple toys, it never occurred to
her that they could ho thought ugly
or ridiculous.
Grandmother lived on a large fram
not far from the city of Boston. As
she was the only little girl in the fatu
ity, she wii3 greatly petted by every
one. In the long winter evenings,
when there Yfga bttlc £0 do, some of
the farm hands' who were clever with
their pen knives used to employ th§lr
skill in whittling out toys for grand
mother.
Sometimes they were rough block
houses that came apart, which you
fited together puzle fashion. Some
times they were curious trick boxes
made of countless small piecesof wood,
which only those who were admitted
to the secret could open. Sometimes
they were wooden chains made of
small links which had been cut from
a long strip of wood, which grand
mother thought made beautiful neck
laces. Poor grandmother! You see
this was long ago and she didn't know
any better.
But the toy of toys whicn had sim
ply filled her little heart with rapture
was—what do you suppose?—a white
birch doll. Can you fancy such a
thing?
Its head was made of a knot of white
birch wood upon which eyes, nose and
mouth had been painted with yellow
paint. It had a nttle blue calico sun
bonnet, from under which hung two
long yellow braids made of braided
silk. It had a blue calico dress like
the sunhonnet. Its sleeves were
stuffed with rags for arms, and it had
two little pieces of wood for hands.
Legs it had none; but then its dress
was very long, and grandmother never
missed them.
It must bo that little girls who are
Intended to grow up Into good grand
mothers have grandmothers' hearts
from the first. When this beautiful
doll was given to grandmother, she
took it without a word, and simply
Bank down on the floor and hugged "it
to her small breast with a rapture
which made her speechless.
"Haven't you a word of thanks to
givo John, my dear?'' said grand
mother's father. He wished his little
daughter to grow up well-mannered
and not to be ungrateful. Grand
mother simply could not speak; but
she looked at John with such beaming
eyes that ho understood.
"That's all right, little 'un," he
said, as he gave her brown hand a pat.
John must have had a grandmother's
heart.
Grandmother does not remember
how the doll came to be called Lydia
Tree; but Lydla Tree she was from
the first. Never—until the terrible
day which we are coming to—was
grandmother separated from Lydia
Tree day or night. From that day she
forgot to be lonely or to feel sorry that
there were no little girls with whom
she could play. Lydla Tree filled all
the empty places in her heart.
What secrets they shared! What
plans they made! And they played
together so happily! Lydla Tree was
always thinking of new games—that
is, grandmother pretended that it was
Ldyia Tree who thought of them.
One day in the early summer it hap
pened that there was a great deal of
work to be dono for some reason or
other, so grandmother was told to
take Lydia Tree and go out and play
in the front yard, where they wouldn't
be "under people's feet."
So they went out and sat beside the
horse-block, as it was called, for it
was the place where the wagons al
ways stopped and where people
mounted their horses. The horse
block was the stump of an old tree
with a smoothly planed top, which
made the most beautiful place in the
world to play store.
It was Lydla Treo's turn to be store
keeper that day. She was standing
propped up against the side of the
block, trying to persuade grandmother
to buy some very expensive kind of
calico, which grandmother was not
sure she could afford. They were dis
cussing the important matter of
whether it would wash or not, when
grandmother heard the clatter of
horse'ii hoofs coming up the road. Loth
she aiid Lydla Tree forgot the oxclte
mont of driving a bargain in their
interest in seeing who was coming at
that hour of the morning.
It seemed to grmdmother after
wards that at first the rider intended to
to keep on without stopping; but just
as he came opposite the horse-block,
his eye lighted on the little girl with
Lydia Tree hugged tightly under arm.
He aparently changed his mind and
reined in his horse.
Grandmother was never able to give
much of a description of the man. She
always had a vague idea that he was
much browned by the sun, that his
blue clothes were of a queer cut, and
that ho spoke in some way differently
from people she knew.
But he smiled down upon her very
pleasantly as he asked, "Who lives
here, little girl?"
"My father," said grandmother,
promptly.
And then, as she was really a very
polite little girl and wished to behave
properly, she introduced herself, "An'
I'm his little girl, an' this is Lydia
Tree."
At the sight of Lydia Tree's inter
esting countenance held up for his in
spection, the stranger seemed much af
fected. Probably he had never seen
anything quite so beautiful. Grand
mother was very much pleased; so
when he asked her if she could get
him a drink of water, as he was very
warm and thirsty, and politely offered
to hold Lydia Tree while she went to
fetch it, she consented at once. it
would be a pleasant and novel expe
rience for Lydia Tree to be on horse
back. She was not the mother to deny
her child any reasonable pleasure or
ad rant A|n. Lydia Tree was handed up
to the stranger, aqd grandmother de
parted (or the water.
_'ti fooK gjf some minutes, for the
drinking gourd was rather large l'or
her small hands, and she had to walk
very slowly to avoid spilling'tiie wat'el.
When she reached the horse block she
saw Lydia Tree's head sticking out
from the top of the stranger's jacket.
She looked very much distressed,
grandmother thought, buttoned up in
that way, with her arms inside. Grand
mother felt half inclined to cry. She
was just about to request Lydia Tree's
return, when the stranger finished his
long draught.
"1 think I'll take Lydia Tree now,
please," said grandmother, holding up
her short arm.
The man cast his rapid glance over
the yard. There was no one in sight.
He gave his horse a sharp cut
with the whip, it seemed to grand
mother afterward that in that one
jump they were down the road, leav
ing nothing behind them but a cloud
of dust.
It was several moments before her
poor little brain was pierced with the
terrible idea that Lydia Tree had also
gone. For a moment she was simply
paralyzed with anguish. Then, with a
cry which brought her mother run
ning from the house, she threw her
self on the ground in a tempest of
tears.
It was some time before any one
could make out what had happened.
Poor grandmother could only wring
her hands and sob: "Lydia Tree! O,
Lydia Tree!" When, finally, she had
become sufficiently coherent to give
them some idea of the tragedy that
had befallen her, horses were saddled
and several of the farm habds started
in pursuit. Grandmother was a great
favorite and everybody burned with in
dignation to think that a grown man
should meanly rob a little girl of her
treasure.
The man had too long a start. Never
again had grandmother set eyes on
him or Lydia Tree, although it was
many years before she gave over ex
pecting them both. She could not be
lieve that he did not intend to come
back. Her heart was sore at the
thought of Lydia Tree compelled to
live among strangers. They all decid
ed that the man was probably a sailor
who had stolen this odd-looking baby
doll, perhaps to take to a little child
of his own.
Grandmother's father tried to com
fort her by promising that John should
make another Lydia Tree for her. John
somehow understood little girls as few
grown up people do. So he made her
a playhouse instead, for which grand
mother was secretly very grateful, al
though she did not think it right to
say she didn't want another doll, as
her father had suggested it. She and
John became greater friends than ever.
He certainly did have a grandfather's
heart.
This story of Lydia Tree wa3 An
nie's favorite story. She never tired of
hearing it. It was her secret convic
tion that Lydia Tree would return
some day, although grandmother had
given up expecting her. She never
dreamed that she was to have any part
in it
When Annie was 10 years old, her
Jather had some business that obliged
him to go away over to Holland, to
the city of Amsterdam.. As he might
have to be there for many months,
Annie and her mother went with
him. It was certainly a great ex
perience for a little girl, and to say
that Annie enjoyed all the wonderful
things she saw on that journey and
the quaint life in that 'curious old
world city would not express it It
is only with the part of her journey
that has to do with Lydia Tree that
this story is concerned.
When Annie and her mother had
been living in Amsterdam about a
month there was a great fair held
there for the benefit of some charity.
Annie's father had been told that one
of the chief exhibits was a collection
of all sorts of curious toys, which the
children from all parts 01' the world
are accustomed to play with. So An
nie and her mother went one after
noon.
It would take too long to tell of all
the curious things that made up that
wonderful collection—of the tops from
Iceland, kites from Japan, stilts from
the Marquesas islands, and what An
nie called "Noah's Arks," from Africa.
Of course what interested her most
was the collection of dolls. Annie
thought most of them frightful, and
felt a great deal of pity for the un
fortunate children who had nothing
better to play with.
There was a very kind man there
who explained a great many things
to Annie and her mother in faultless
English. He showed them the most
primitive form of doll from Mashona
land, Africa. Simply a small lump of
wood, polished and blackened with
age, with a few scratches on top to
represent features. The dolls of the
Kaffir tribes were a little better; they
at least could boast of arms and legs.
Then there were dolls from West Af
rica, made of hard brown wood highly
polished. The strangest thing about
these dolls was that their bodies were
made bell shaped. Within the bell
hung a bunch of clappers made of
reeds, which were supposed to repre
sent the voice of the doll.
"I do not think that the little girl
finds these strange dolls very beauti
full," said their guide laughing. "In
one moment I will show you some that
you Will admire more, for they have
come from tho city of Paris. But first
I will show you a quaint doll from
your own America. She is not very
beautiful, either."
As they waikeii on, Annie's mother
stopped a moment to examine some ob
ject that had attracted her eye. She
was startled by a cry of "Mother,
mother, mother! 01), do come here!"
She found Annie dancing up and
down in excitement, waving something
about, to the great astonishment of
their new friend.
Lydia Tree, I know it is, I
know it is!" cried Annie, nearly in
tears.
It certainly was. In every particu
lar the outlandish looking doll baby
answered grandmother's careful de
scription. There was the knotted
wooden head with the yellow paint
features; the blue calico dress and
sunbonnet, the yellow silk braids, the
legless body. Annie's mother was
nearly as excited as her little daugh
ter. With a few words of explanation
she asked permission to take oft the
sunbonnet. She bad suddenly remem
bered a part of the story that Annie
had forgotten. If this really were the
long-lost Lydia Tree, her name would
be found cut in the back of her head
where John had carved it so many
years before; and there it was! The
curator was very much amused and in
terested but of course Lydia Tree had
to bo returned to her shelf for the
time being, as she was a part of the
collection.
I do not know just how it was man
aged, but the curntor and Annie's
father laid their head 9 together and
managed it; but first one of the Am
sterdam papers published a long ac
count of the "Traveled Miss Tree's"
life and adventures. Annie could not
read it, to be sure, as it was all in
Dutch, but the paper is one of her
most treasured possessions todny. It
tells how Miss Tree had been sent to
the fair by the grand-daughter of a
long dead Dutch sea captain, who had
bought the queer doll from one of his
sailors, presumably the very man who
bad robbed grandmother of Miss Tree.
At all events Lydia Tree crossed the
Atlantic once more in Annie's own
trunk. After landing in New York
they went almost immediately to pay
grandmother a visit. You can imag
ine how excited Annie was when, al
most tumbling out of the carriage in
her eagerness, she asked the old ques
tion:
"Haven't heard anything from Lydia
Tree yet, have you, grandmother?"
"Nothing yet,, my dear," said grand
mother.
"Well, I have!" shrieked Annie, and
waving Lydia Tree before grandmoth
er's amazed eyes, she threw herself
into her arms.
It was certainly a complete sur
prise; and when, after a happy day,
Annie came to grandmother for her
goodnight kiss, she received one of
even more than usual tenderness. "It
was the most beautiful present I ever
received in my life," she said.
For many years afterward Lydia
Tree, after her stormy and adventur
ous life, passed her time sitting in a
low chair beside grandmother's bed.
Grandmother's glance was some
times a little dimmed when she looked
at the old companion of her childhood.
So many things had happened while
Lydia Tree was on her travels.—
Youth's Companion.
General 801 l In the Philippine!!.
Once when riding ahead of his col
umn in company with 10 of his officers
they suddenly came upon a 100 or
more insurgents. Bell was cut off
from his comrades and found himself
alone in a clearing with seven Fili
pinos, who were armed with rifles. He
had only a revolver and only one shell
in it. He rode headlong into the group
of Filipinos shouting, and he shot off
his single pistol ball. It struck the cap
tain, and the others ran. Ho caught
them and commanded them to throw
down their rifles. He captured a part
of them and brought them back to
their captain, who had only been
wounded in the arm. When ho re
joined his companions he was leading
the captain and two other Filipinos
as his prisoners. It was for this ex
ploit that he received the modal of
honor. It was Captain Bell who res
cued Lieutenant Gillmore and his com
panions of the navy.—The World's
Work.
A PROBLEM IN EMOTIONS.
Tha Nat to Crack I# tho Color of the
hndy'B lluir.
The fair Lady Cclestine of Castle
Sagamore was yet unwed, and despite
her vast estate, her wonderful castle,
her legions of vassals and the flattery
of all, there was a void in her heart
which made all these things as naught
to her. She was more beautiful than
a goddess and as charming and ac
complished, and her lavish entertain
ments had captivated society; but
still there was something lacking to
complete the perfection of her sur
roundings. Though the world be full
and tho heart be empty there cannot
be happiness.
Poems had been written to the Lady
delestine's eyes, as blue as. the skies;
to her cheeks, as pink as the peach;
l to her teeth, like pearlß; to her lips,
j as red as the cherries; to her chin, to
her neck, to her forehead and to her
j hair —her magnificent hair—truly the
j crown of Lady Celestine's glory; and
| still she sought what was not yet
come to her.
j Suitors were numerous—too numer
: ous; for the fair Lady Celestine could
! not choose among so many, and at last
it was determined that upon a festal
day all the knights who had hopes
of gaining her heart should come to
j the castle and she would make her
choice. It was a gala occasion, and
i betimes on the morning of the day
chosen the knights congregated about
the closed gates" of the castle. To the
' t fortunate one the portcullis was to fall,
and he was to enter and become lord
of the castle and master of tho Lady
Celestine's heart. A seneschal was
| posted on the cuter wall to herald the
, knight approaching to his glory or his
, doom. When ajl was ready, the first
knight rode forth
i "The knight of Stepney," cried tho
seneschal.
"What manner of steed rides he?"
called the lady over the castle tele
phone, which hung above the golden
j dias where sjie sat in the great audi
. ence chamber.
i "As black as the pitch of Pontum,
fair lady." responded the seneschal.
1 The portcullis did not fall, and an
other knight approached.
I "The knight of Aberdeen, fair lady,"
announced the seneschal.
' "What manner of steed rides he?"
called the lady.
"As Crown and as beautiful as the
' eyes of a houri, fair lady," replied the
sensechal.
| Again the portcullis did not fall, and
another knight came forward.
I "The knight of Windermere, fair
lady," called the seneschal.
"What manner of steed rides he?"
asked tho lady.
| "Sorrel, fair lady; as glossy as your
own new russet shoes," replied the
seneschal.
The portcullis did not fall, nor did
it when others approached, until one
came.
"The knight of Killemall. fair lady,"
! called he seneschal.
' "What manner of steed rides he?"
asked the lady
"White, fair laity; as dazzling as
the sunlight on Himalayas' snows,"
said the seneschal.
The Lady Celestine rose eagerly
from her golden throne.
"At last, at last," she cried, with
throbbing heart. "It matches my
hair." and the portcullis fell with a
crash.
Now, who can tell the color of her
hair? —Washington Star.
Mr. Evurt* as a I,uwyer.
' It is a good thing to be a leading
lawyer, and profitable in many par
ticulars. Mr. Evarts' abilities as a
lawyer were several times of signal
value to his country as well as to him
self. His labors in tho Johnson Im
peachment trial and in the Alabama
case are felt to have been great public
services. But he helped his genera
; tion in another way by affording it a
great deal of amusement. A good part
i of his fame rests on his jokes, and to
them is due, no doubt, very much of
| the kindly sentiment his generation—
and ours, too —had for him. For
years he was the foremost Yale man,
and that was another source of his
, extended reputation. He worked very
hard, he earned a great deal of money,
! he raised a large family, he was ad
mired, honored, and esteemed, and he
made some imperishable jokes. It is
hard to spare such a man. But it
seems that Mr. Evarts felt that he
| had done all the work and had all the
ifun that were coming in this world,
• and was anxious to be off and about
j whatever concerns may follow those
of earth. The last story that is told
of him is of a minister who talked
long to him. as he lay abed, about tho
Philippines. "Don't you enre about
the Philippines?" he asked him. "No,"
was the dry response. "I'm not. going
there, anyway." Men smiled when
they spoke of Mr. Evarts living; they
will smile when they think of him now
that he is gone; but the smile is a
tribute, warmed and qualified just now
with regret that we have lost him.—
E. S. Martin, in Harper's Weekly.
liijj <atiar<l for the fwr'n Jewels.
The Jewels of the Russian imperial
family form one of the most valuable
coliections-in the world. This collec
tion is guarded in a fortified castle
watched over by a special detail of ISO
retired officers and a body of soldiers.
For this service they are well paid.
No officer who in his days of active
service was addicted to gambling or
to extravagance can ever hope to he
selected as one of the custodians of
the imperial jewels.
The Czar keeps a portion of his own
private jewels in banks in London and
Paris, so that in case a revolution
should break out in St. Petersburg he
would have an "anchor to windward"
In tho two foreign capitals.—Jewelers'
Circular WeeViw
Colored Ilurln])9.
Colored burlaps is a splendid ma
terial for dining-room and hall por
tieres where durability, inexpensive
ness, and dust-shedding Qualities, as
well as rich hues, arc desirable. The
deep full blue is very handsome, and
the deep old gold pleasant and attrac
tive to tho eye. The solid, single color
is best where the wall-paper is figured
and the carpet also; but where the
carpet is very subdued, that is. shows
no vivid coloring and no pronounced
pattern, some of the burlaps figured
with sields and dragons is verv har
monious.—The Ladies' World.
Cloth for Tea-tabic.
A novel cover for the afternoon tea
table is made of Japanese napkins.
Four of the napkins, all alike, are
joined together, side by side, to form
a square, oa a foundation of white
cotton cloth. Around the edge is then
sewn a fringe, also made of napkins of
the same pattern. This fringe is made
by folding each napkin once across
the middle.'and then slashing to with
in an inch or two of the crease. The
cuts are hardly more than a quarter
of an inch apart, and enough is left
uncut for the seam and to make all
firm below. The colors predominat
ing in the cloth in mind were helio
trope and green, and the effect was
very dainty.
Tlio Kitchen-Garden.
Whether the "garden" bo a two-acre
plot or a city back yard 20x30 feet,
there are certain things that should
be planted for the infinite comfort de
rived through the summer from such
provision. Jierbs come first, that gar
nishings and soup pr sauce flavors
may always be at hand. "" 't
If besides the place for herbs there
be space for a fair-sized garden, let
preference be given to cucumbers,
which are good only when freshly
pjeked; tomatoes, and about three
plantings, two weeks apart, of lettuce
and radishes, which arc wholesome
only when fresh. If more space still
be at command, give the next choice
to green beans of the stringless va
riety, and corn, both of which are so
much better if ffeshly gathered; then
peas, carrots (a most delicate vege
table when small), beets and okra. —
Ella Morris Kretschmar. in the Wom
an's Home Companion.
The Dlspnsnl of Kitchen AVn^tcn.
In a village where there is no ash
man the disposal of kitchen wastes
as well as ashes is always a vexed
question. Kitchen refuse which a pig
will not consume cannot be burned or
cremated by the quantity in the coun
try as it is in the city, where refuse
Is carefully separated, and what is of
no other use is burned. It is injurious to
burn moist waste in the kitchen range
or furnace. It requires an extrava
gant use of coal to do so, and it pro
duces a very disagreeable odor. The
odor of burning garbage is so intoler
able that it it strictly prohibited in
villages where the houses are near
together.
In the country, where there is room,
the best way of disposing of any
waste, like bones, old woollens or any
thing that shows bv its odor when
burning that it contains nitrogen, is
to bury it in a deep pit for fertilizer.
Almost anything but metal can be
treated in this way. and if each time
a consignment of waste is burled it
is covered with twice a3 much wood
ashes as there is waste and garbage,
and about five times as much earth, it
gives no evidence of itself. It should
be buried about a year, and when it is
thoroughly rotted in this way it will
make a good fertilizer. If there aro
not enough wood ashes about the
premises, mix one part of quicklime
and one part of common salsoda in
every five parts of waste, and five
times as much soil as there
is waste. The amount of kitchen
waste to bo disposed of in a
family Is not large if dry "litter"
about the grounds is burned. The
wastes treated as we have said will
make an excellent fertilizer for the
flower garden, and yields wonders of
bloom and fragrance for very little
trouble. Soil must be very liberally
mixed with this compost when it Is
dug up. for it is too rich for ordinary
fertilization.—New York Tribune.
I'D
W R££/F£S
Salmon Loaf —Butter a bread pan;
line it with warmed cooked rice sea
soned with salt; fill the centre with
cold cooked salmon, flaked; season
with salt, pepper, lemon juice and
grated nutmeg. Cover with rice and
steam one hour. Serve with egg
sauce.
Fruit Cookies—One and a half cup
fuls sugar and butter worked to a
cream, add three eggs, half cupful mo
lasses, one teaspoonful soda dissolved
in a little cold water, one cupful rai
sins seeded and chopped, one cupful
currants, one teaspoonful salt and all
kinds of spices.
Raisin Filling Cake—One cupful of
sugar, one-third cupful of butter, one
half cupful of milk, two eggs, reserv
ing one white; two cupfuls of flour,
two even teaspoonfuls of baking pow
der, two-thirds of a cupful of stoned
nnd chopped raisins. Bake ir layers.
Put together with a plain icing, which
has one-half cupful of chopped rai
sins stirred in.