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THE NATIONAL TBIBTJNE: WASHINGTON, D. C, JANUARY 7, 1882.
A BOY'S SOLILOQUY.
I wonder if I ran away to sea or oft' to Texas,
like the fellows that I've read about in stories brave
If sifter Sue would only say, " Well, he's not here to
vex us ; "
Or if my folks would care the least, though I were
tired and cold.
My father well I cannot say I'm intimate with him ;
He's at the office every day, and no one dares to stir
When he comes home, for if they do, they hear a gruft
Commanding voice: "Be silent there! My eye is on
I like to listen to Alphonso, my splendid, grand, big
Who's been away oft' to China, and India, and Japan;
But he always sends me kiting, and calls me such a
I won't treat the boys so horridly, if ever I'm a man.
My mother uhed to love me. Yes, she loved me dearly,
When 1 was jufct a little chap, with curling, golden
But now I'm at the awkward age I heard her telling
clumsy and so rough, and she finds me such a care.
She hardly ever kisses me, or lays her hand careing
Upon my tumbled, tangled head. Oh! how I wish
If she'd sometimes come and call me her treasure and
It would be easier, I think, to be gentle, kind, and
Well, 1 frhall not run away to Texas or to sea,
And I'll bnm the story-papers or pile them on the
For though nobody may care so very much for me,
There's something inside tells me to be noble for my
self. QUEER COMPANY HOME.
Susan Power, in Wide Awake.
We Brownlee children were delighted to find i
the days drawing in, and the leisure of the long i
autumn evenings which came each year with a j
sense of novelty, once more upon us. Instead of i
going to bed at nine with the sun just fairly out
of sight, as in summer, now when work and suj)
per were over, and the moon rising over the hill,
there was a whole long evening before us. We
felt as if we must celebrate this luxurious leis
ure, and fixed on going to our next neighbor over
the south hill, nearly a quarter of a mile away.
The quiet of a late October night was around
us, with clear skies and the full moon shining
splendid above the autumn haze, and the frost
mist glimmering in the air. The sweetest scents
of ripening grasses and resinous plants which
hangs long in the air, were blended with a breath
of red leaves and ripening frost grapes in the
ravine at Pine Hollow two miles away. It was
the complete charm of a northwestern evening, a
night for children to go wild with joy in the very
splendor and temper of the air.
People "were always read' and glad to see each
other in those early days when neighbors count
ed for something. It made no matter that Mr.
Forrest was tricing King Philip corn for seed, or
that Kate and Ruth were slicing pumpkin for
next dav's pies. Work was our life in those
hardv Wisconsin davs, and we had not learned i
to pity ourselves for it.
WnrV tos -r-.Tnf.ri riT
V .-. T kUAUU. VIA
with quips and jokes, and we had more fun over
a busy day than girls nowadays find when they
lounge about with pockets full of caramels, and
give their minds to doing nothing.
I can see Ruth cutting up one of those great
Wisconsin pumpkins, in her neat brown print
dress, fresh as paint, a glossy orange pumpkin
lield hetween her arm and breast, with the sharp
knife turning off thin crescents to be paired and
cut up by the others. A good knife goes through
a firm, fine-fleshed pumpkin with something of
the same feeling as a jackknife goes through soft j
pine a touch whose fascination has made gen
erations of whittlers and ponderers.
The oak fire burned briskly in the polished
stove, and puffs of delicious air came in with the
opening of the door, making the lamps burn ,
bright, while we girls pared and clipped the
golden rind, and mother Forrest told us a story
of her own childhood.
None so ready for a new country as an old pio
neer; and this woman with her bright black
eyes and hair, contented with her children and
grandchildren on the new prairie farm, was
brought up on the mountain-sides of west Penn- i
sylvania when it was t-he home of panthers and I
bears, who were very sociably frequent and fa-
miliar. Her father moved from Delaware county, j
New York, when she was a little girl, and she '
grew up as much at home in the wilderness as j
the catamounts. All summer long she roamed j
the woods with her brothers and sisters after ;
berries and flowers and fun ; the woods their I
pleygrounds from the time sap flowed in sugar
making till hazel-nuts were hidden by the snow.
The mountains were a free, breezy, sunny home
for them: and though there were pleutv of
"creatures," that is, wild ones, the children were
wild and fearless, and brought up to take care of j
"I wa'n't a mite afraid of animals," said the
smart, comely woman, who never would grow
old. "Only one thing skeered me, and that was
men. If I saw or heerd of a man outen the woods,
I would cut and run like a deer. It was a rough,
hard set got loose among the mountains in those
times. But I had the queerest comp'ny home one
time ever you heerd of, or anyb'dy else so far as
heerd from. The fall I was fourteen, my next
youngest brother and sister and me. father took
us down to the island, 'bout eight miles from our
place, to pick apples on shares. Our trees hedn't
got to bearin' yet, and we was mighty glad to get
'em this way, pickin' two baskets for the farm
folks and keepin' the third for our own. We
went Wednesday, and were goin' to stay three
days, and father was coming with a team for us
and the ajiples we gathered. We slept at the
farmhouse, and had plenty of provision along,
and the folks gave us all the bread and milk and
cheese we wanted, and we had a real larkin' time.
By Saturday we were good ready to go home and
see mother. We waited till near sundown, when
nay next oldest brother came for us and said
father couldn't take the team off that day and we
were to walk home, and he would send for the
apples next week. We had between seven and
eight barrels picked, enough to do us all winter.
How them Pennsylvania orchards did bear those
times ! Bill had been started after us early in
the forenoon, but he played along the way and
took a swim, and hunted a woodchuck, and pick-
ed berries, till, instid of gettin' there 'bout two
o'clock and givin' us plenty of time to get home
in, it was most night. The folks told us we'd
better stay over night, but we was so anxious to
see mother and get home, it seemed we couldn't
stay over Sunday nohow. So we took some ap
ples in a basket and started just a little while
"The road went along the mountain, with the
steep bank like a wall on one hand, goin down
just as steep to the bed of the river on the other,
and it was woods nearly all the way. We was so
glad at the thought of gettin' home and seem'
mother Yy ten o'clock that we was just as full as
we coitti: be. We sang, and ran, and whooped,
and joked about wolves and bears, and those first
two links didn't take very long to get over. But
then it was fairly dusk, and the woods darker
than a pocket so (""ark you couldn't make out
anyth". -g and we were glad to hear something
come i long pit-pat. and find the old dog from the
farm had come ar tr us. We could just see his
form and each other spots darker than the dark.
We couldn't lose die road, for it was the only
one, aud cut ani'iig the thick trees, and all we
had to do was to icllow onr noses over the moun
tain straight In me. By way of keepin' our
spi'ls up, we b. an to train.
We mocked every creature we knew. We
hooted like owl?, and schreeched like cats, 'n'
howled like woh es, and sang and hollered at the
top of our voices, and we wa'n't weak lunged,
either. And that sober old dog trotted long side
of us, never changin' his gait or gettin" ahead,
but allers keepin' up w ith us. I was awful glad
of his comin', for I didn't like the idee of walkin'
six miles through the woods black as darkness 't
had never been skimmed. The walk was nothin'
for we could go six miles any time after huckle
berries, but I didn't know what we might meet
before we got through.
' We called to the dog and tried to stir him up.
but he kept the same trot just behind us, and
would nt take any notice of our frolics. We called
him, 'Hy, Rover ! good Rove! good old fellow ! '
but he wasn't to be turned from his stiddy path.
Billy began to say he didn't believe the dog knew
his own name, or he'd got changed in the dark,
and by that time we began to feel a little creepy
and exert ourselves to keep our spirits up. We
sang and hollered, and we set on the
and called him all the nary.es we could lay our
tongues to. i Old Jack-of-the-woods,' 'old Tread-on-his-tail,'
'old Blackin'.' Seem s if I never
heerd a regiment c'd make quite so much noise
's we children did out on the mountain that
''There was one clearin less'n three miles from
our house, and we felt most home when we came
in range o' that. It was a lonesome cabin standin'
by itself in the middle of a field. We were gettin'
skeery by this time, :n' we 'greed not to go any
further, but stop over night with the folks, whom
we knew, and go home next mornin before
breakfast. We didn't like the idee of faein' the
dark any further through the woods. As we
started for shelter, our courage began to run out
at eiDows wnen we neero. a voice sometnin t
we knew and we piled over the rail fence and
put for the house, where a light was burnin', as
tight as we could pelt.
''And what do you think we heard from our
mild companion I've keen telliu' you "oout?
''That beast 't had been with us, it give a jump
and lit on the top rail as light as a cat, and gave
one long, awful schreech that just lifted us.
'Twant no dog in this world, but a painter, 't had
been trottin' with us all that evenin' when it was
so dark we couldn't make him out. How we
stumbled along over the rough ploughed ground
I can't teH ye. Seemed as if we never could get
to the house, and our hearts buxstin' our breasts,
and throats chokin'. we was so scared. Seemed
's if I was all insides for that one burnin minit
we were gettin over that field! The woman in
the house was alone that night, sittin' up ironin,
and she heerd the panther's scream, and she was
scairt to death, and just had time to drag her
husband's tool-chist against the door, wiien we
ran up too out of breath to call, and just came
bounce against it. She thought it was the
panther, and was nearly dead with fright. We
screamed out to her to let us in, and she pulled
the door open just wide enough to let us tumble
, the last one becririii' and cryin' for fear the
panther woull claw him before he could get in,
and the chist was dirgged back and the door fast
before we had sense to know we were safe,
"There was a bright fire on the hearth, audit
shone out of the windows, and we knew the
panther wouldn t 1 e likely to come very close,
creturs are sc '.raid of fire. The woman, alone
with her baby a r.d children asleep, was dredful
glad to have us with her that night. We put all
the loose bo ds in the loft-chamber up to the
windows, for fear that thing might try to get in,
and we satu j hearin' it screech round the house
ht to tear lt-jt It m pieces, it was so mad to think
we'd got aw y. The fire burned down and there
was no mor wood in the house, and we didn't
dare to stir out for a stick, for all the pile of
brush lay close to the door. But by and by the
screams died away, and after watchin' an hour
more we were glad to go to bed. Next mornin'
we found the earth all clawed up round that
back doorstep, and the bark scratched off the
logs round the window where we'd fastened the
cellar door u for a shutter, right at the foot of
the bed. It must have come smellin' round after
we thought it had gone off, and done that mis
chief. "We never could tell why it hadn't attacked us
in the road, unless it was actually scarced of us,
we showed so little fear and kept up such a
racket. They say panthers like singin5, and
that may have kept it quiet, or it may have been
a young one, or not hungry.
" Next mornin' father and the boys drove up
bright and early to ask if anything had been
seen of us. After my brother Billy started the
day before, they heard from a neighbor out
huntin' that a big panther had been round the
places up the mountain, stealin' shoats out of the
pen, and it had carried a sheep off the day before.
Mother had )een dreadfully uneasy when we
didn't get home at sundown, and father began to
worry about us when we didn't come by bed
time. He had been out to meet us, and then
started with the team as soon as it was light
enough to see
Father said it was well we hadn't
gone any further, for the woods was wildest our
end of the road, and then our panther might
have got hi3 courage up and wanted to make ac
quaintance with us. We was a little shy a good
while after that about-bein' out late after dark."
"I should thought you'd been afraid," said
Ruth, drawing a deep breath as she took up her
knife again to attack a pumpkin.
' 'Fraid. child, 'fraid? We wasn't 'fraid nei
ther, only mostscairt to death," was all the con
fession the old lady could make. There was
evidently a decided difference with her between
sudden panic and cowardly fear. Don't you
think there is. too ?
NAMES OF COUNTRIES.
The following countries, it is said,
originally named by the Phoenicians
J greatest commercial people in the world.
names, in the Phoenician lanijuage, signifv some-
thing characteristic of the places which they
Europe signifies a country of white com
nlfxion, so named because the inhabitants were
of a lighter complexion than those of Asia or
Asia signifies between, or in the middle, from
the fact that the geographers placed it between
Europe and Africa.
Siberia signifies thirsty or dry very charac
teristic. Africa signifies the land of corn and ears. It
was celebrated for its abundance of corn and all
sorts of grain.
Britain the country of tin ; great quantities
being found in it and adjacent islands. The
Greeks called it Albion, which signifies in the
Phoenician tongue either white or high moun
tains, from the whiteness of its shores, or the
high rocks on the western coast.
Spain a country of rabbits or conies. It was
once so infested with these animals that it sued
Augustus for an army to destroy them.
Italy a country of pitch, from its yielding
great quantities of black pitch.
Calabria also for the same reason.
Gaul modern France signifie3yellow-haired,
as yellow hair characterized its inhabitants.
The English of Caledonia is a high hill. This
was a rugged, mouutainous province in Scotland.
Hibernia is utmost, or last habitation; for
bevond this, westward, the Phoenicians never
extended their voyages.
Corsica signifies a woody place.
Sardinia signifies the footsteps of men, which
Syracuse bad savor; so called from the un
wholesome marsh on which it stood.
Rhodes serpents or dragons, which it pro
duces in abundance.
Sicily the country of grapes.
Scylla the whirlpool of destruction.
iEtna signifies a furnace, or dark, or smoky.
A HUNTER OF THE GUNNISON,
The Denver News, in a sketch of a noted border
character, says : Among those who drifted hither
in '59. during the Pike's Peak excitement, and
who have remained as hunters, is Moccasin Bill,
still living in his cabin in the Sangre de Christo
Mountains. At the age of fifty years this man is
as straight and active as at twenty, and when he
mingles with other men a rare occurrence he
towers above them like some giant among Lili
putians. His long hair falls over his shoulders
and descends nearly to his waist in natural curls,
now slightly tinged with gray, while a beard
that has known no razor for thirty years sweeps
his breast. Many years ago he established a
hunting camp in the Gunnison country. Having
excavated a hole in the side of a hill and having
completed a warm and secure retreat, he was pre
pared to pass the winter and brave the perils of
that season of the year. He had located a series
of trap3 and daily he plodded through the snow
to secure any animals that might have been cap
tured and to replenish his larder by bringing
down such game as might be obtainable. As the
winter advanced the snow became deeper and
spread over the mountains and valleys to the
depth of many feet.
While making his daily round one day, and
while staggering along with a bundle of furs on
his back and his rifle on his shoulder, he heard
a ciy, faint and weak, yet still a call for help.
With true frontier courage he responded to the
appeal, and ere long found, half buried in the
snow and nearly perished, an Indian. With in
finite difficulty he conveyed the savage to his
cabin and there nourished him back to strength.
This Indian had secreted himself upon the trail
of the hunter with the avowed purpose of kill
ing him. but had succumbed to the cold aud was
rescued by the man he had sought to slay.
Before leaving his benefactor he unbosomed
himself and while relating his story pleaded for
pardon. His benefactor knew full wTell the ob
ject the one he had rescued had in view, but had
nobly saved him from a horrible fate. The sav
age and would-be murderer departed from the
cabin of his benefactor with a changed heart and
returned to his tribe, where he related his ad
venture. From that day the hunter was honored
by the Indians and many days were spent in
their wigwams by one whom the' had once
sought to destroy. His traps were never mo
lested and when he left for the settlements he
carried with him the love of his savage neigh
bors. THE HERO OF SUGAR PINE.
' Oh! tell me, Sergeant of Battery B,
0 hero of Sugar Pine !
Some glorious deed of the battle-field,
Some wonderful feat of thine ;
"Some skillful move when the fearful game
Of battle and life was played
Ou yon gtimy field, whose broken squares
In scarlet and black are laid."
"Ah! stranger, here at my gun all day,
1 fought till my final round
Was spent, and I had but powder left,
Aud never a shot to be found.
"So I trained my gun on a rebel piece ;
So true was my range and aim,
A shot from his cannon entered mine,
Aud finished the load of the same ! "'
"Enough ! O Sergeant of Battery B,
O hero of Sugar Pine!
AUu! I fear that thy cannon's throat
Can swallow much more than mine."
A HISTORICAL CANE.
Mr. Thomas 0. Fassett. sailmaker, United States
Navy, now attached to the receiving ship Inde
pendence, at Mare Island, has a cane which he
proposes to present to the Trustees of the Vet
erans' Home to be disposed of as they niay see fit,
for the benefit of that institution. It is a cane
which will be considered very valuable for its
historical associations. It is made of several
pieces of wood, joined together. The ferrule is
from a bolt from one of the rails of the old frigate
United States, the ship which, under command
of Commodore Decatur, captured the British frig
ate Macedonian in the war of 1812. The piece next
is of white oak taken from the main cross-tree of
the frigate Cumberland, after she was sunk by
the Merrimac; the piece joining that is of live
oak from one of the timber heads of the frigate
Congress, cut out after she was burned aud sunk
in the same fight with the Merrimac. The main
piece is of live oak from the stem of the Merri
mac. This was procured while the vessel, at the
Norfolk Navy Yard, was repairing in conse
quence of the damage caused the stem in ram
ming the Cumberland. It was given to Mr. Fassett
by the party who, at that time, obtained it.
There is an iron band near the top which is from
the port shutter of the Monitor, taken from it
just after the fight with the Merrimac. The
handle is a piece of live oak from the Kearsarge.
The brass pins fastening the different pieces are
all from the last-named vessel. It is a very
handsome cane, and, iiraffled off. ought to bring
a considerable sum to the Veterans' Fund. Al
bany (N. V.) Sunday Prcs.
WHERE THE DRUMS COME FROM.
Granville Corners is situated about two miles
nortli of the Connecticut line. A large mill
stream through the place a branch of the West
field Eiver) furnishes a number of privilege?,
most of which are utilized. Messrs. Noble &
Cooley are by far the largest manufacturers in
the place. They say that in December, 1853,
they first made a drum in Mr. Noble's father's
kitchen from a board found in the barn, steamed
it with a teakettle, and used two hogs' bladders
for the heads. Next they made a dozen drums,
and sent them away in a boot-box. They now
have a factory of 110 by 40 feet with five floors,
and use teaoi and water. They have made and
sold 70,060 drums. These were made of wood,
tin. brass, and nickel. They used for the heads
of these drums 30,000 sheepskins, which came
from Liverpool, of the kind known as salted
fleshes. Let none of your readers wonder where
all the toy drums are made hereafter. Hartford
HOW PACKENHAM DIED,
From the Louisville Courier-Journal,
Your correspondent '"Secretario," from New
Orleans, states in your issue of Sunday, Novem
ber 27, 1831, in his article on ' Lafitte. the Pirate."
concerning the death of Sir Edward Packenham,
commander-in-chief of the British forces, the
''The last act of his eventful career was the
culmination of his long-treasured revenge, and
served also to restore him to favor with the people
and the authorities of Louisiana, whose laws he
had so long set at defiance. It was at the battle
of New Orleans. He was the genius of the great
battle. His blood boiled at the signt of the red
coats. 'Les anglais per fides." he shouted to his
men; ;make every shot tell! Fire low, my
boys fire ! he thundered to them, and his were
the first guns to fire. Later in the battle a
general officer is seen to lead the British forces.
He mounts the parapet waving his sword and
cheering hi3 men. Lafitte sprang forward with
pistol in hand a flash, and Packenham falls
mortally wounded. The victory is gained and
Lafitte's revenge sated.''
His letter is headed "The Romance of Piracy."
This account of the death of Sir Edward Packen
ham is certainly a romance, and far. very far,
from the truth as it ought to appear in history.
I learned the full particulars of General Packen
ham's death from a very intimate friend of nry
father, Colonel "William McCutchen of Mason's
Point. Humphreys county, Tennessee. The old
hero was on the ground at the time Packenham
was killed, and commanded a picked company of
marksmen from a Tennessee regiment. Colonel
McCutchen was a man noted for his strict in
tegrity and love of truth; consequently his
statement of this affair is entitled to a full belief
in its truthfulness. I will now sive vou his
version of General Packenham's death, as clearly
and as briefly as I can, and precisely as I have often
heard him detail it around my fathers fireside in
the long ago. Colonel McCutchen commanded a
company of infantry from Williamson county,
Tennessee, and was ordered by General Jackson,
who knew him well as a ''very clear-sighted
marksman," to pick a company of choice rifle
men from his regiment to shoot the British
officers, and to shoot them alone." He did so,
ana nau under nis commana tne oest snots in
the army, and was stationed near the centre of
the line of breastworks running at right angles
from the river. The Mississippi was extremely
high at the time of the battle of New Orleans
so high as to be within a few inches of the top
of the levee thereby creating some fear that it
might break over and drown both armies. Col.
McCutchen says the British regulars men who
had fought Napoleon on the Peninsula of Spain
and drove that haughty conqueror from his prey
came up to the attack beautifully, bringing
facines with them to fill up the ditch in our
front so that the rear lines could cross over with
ease, and thus scale our breastworks. The colonel
remarked, with a solemn air, that the first lines
melted away like frost before a warm sun, and
helped to fill up the ditch themselves from the
intense and deadly fire of our riflemen. They
were repulsed a second time with terrific
slaughter, broke and fell back under a fire that
they had never met before, even from Napoleon's
best troops. Again, a third time they rushed to
the attack, evidently led by some superior officer,
for they came rushing up with unusual vigor and
steadiness. All at once a lull in the battle re
vealed the fact that something dreadful and un
expected had occurred in the British lines. The
British officers of all ranks were seen to rush to
the centre of their army, they not being over 300
vards from our lines. The colonel said he was
fully convinced from the movements of the officers
and the apathy afterward in the attack that
General Packenham was certainly killed at that
time, and that he was shot by one of our un
erring marksmen. In fact, he stated that he
afteward learned from some British soldiers, who
were pulled oft the breastworks by our own men,
that the commotion in their lines was produced
by General Packenham's death. If that was so,
and Colonel McCutchen says there could not be a
doubt of it, General Packenham was killed at
least 250 yards from our line of works, and con
sequently could not have been killed in a hand-to-hand
encounter by "Lafitte, the pirate," as
stated by " Secretario." The truth is, Lafitte was
stationed to the left of Colonel McCutchens
position, and Packenham was killed immediately
in front of Colonel McCutchen s line of sharp
shooters. Our own hero stated that the ditch in
his front was so full of dead soldiers that the
attacking column had no difficulty in crossing
over, as they lay as thick on the ground as one
ever saw stones on a very stony field. I asked
him if many of the British soldiers got on the
breastworks. He replied, only a few, and they
were immediately killed or jerked over the cot
ton bales and made prisoners of war. During
the lull in the battle spoken of above, one
Colonel McCutehen's best riflemen begged him
to let him shoot a soldier struggling across the
ditch, as no officers Avere in sight. Colonel
McCutchen said: "I looked and saw that the
soldier had on a beautiful canteen, and that it
was particularly bright and attractive. I said:
'"Yes, you may shoot him, but shoot him
through his canteen.' " The rifleman raised his
gun and took deliberate aim, and at the crack of
his piece his game tumbled over dead. After
the battle, the soldier asked Colonel McCutchen
to let him go over and see ' where he shot that
blasted Britisher." Says he went, and in a few
moments returned with the canteen, having sent
a ball directly through it, and consequently
through the heart of its unfortunate owner. On
the canteen was painted this interesting yet
" William "Wylie w my name,
And Old England is my nation ;
To whip the d d Yankees
And take New Orleans, is our derftination.8.
Then followed several other crude rhymes of
similar import something about fJ Beauty and
Booty" but they were so broken up by the
passage of the ball as to be almost entirely un
intelligible. While I am thus repeating this
interesting reminiscence from the lips of a living
participant in the battle of New Orleans, I crave
your pardsn and space to repeat a few others
learned from the same source.
Just before the battle commenced Colonel Mc
Cutchen said he was walking over to his right
and near the levee, when he saw Gen. Jackson
ride up under considerable excitement and order
an officer to furnish an orderly sergeant and
twenty-four men to report immediately, and
armed with pick-axes and shovels. Being a very
unusual proceeding, Col. McC. said he followed
en to see what "Old Hickory" was going to do;
says he stojped near the levee, under a little
tree, and thus addressed these men: savs he
heard him distinctly say : " Men, if we are driven
from those breast-works" f pointing at them with
his sword), then raising up in his stirrups, the
old man said fiercely: ""Which God forbid but
if we are, do you cut this tree and drown the
whole British army. Then the men mounted
the levee and commenced to cut it away, and did
cut it within three or four inches of the water for
a 3pace of seventy-five yards or more. Col. McC.
shrugged his shoulders and said: "Several times
during the battle I became uneasy and looked in
the direction of that sergeant and his men. fear
ful they would cut the levee and let in the Mis
sississippi Eiver and drown us; too ; but, sir, they
stood like a stone wall, dark, and immovable, and
I felt reassured.''' Col. McCutchen ended by say
ing: u I dared not tell my officers or men for fear
of a panic, but I tell you, in ten minutes after
we were driven from those works the whole Brit
ish arniy would have been drowned.
THINGS TO MAKE A NOTE OF.
One-two-tiiree-four Cake. The
old-fashioned cake, which our grandmotherg made
on state occasions, and which still serves as an ex
cellent foundation for jelly cake : One cup ofbutter,
two cups of sugar, three cups of flour, four eggs.
Chocolate Pies. Make plain cup cake and
bake in Washington pie-plates, having the cake
thick enough to split. After splitting, spread
one-half with a filling made as below, place the
top piece on and sprinkle with powered sugar.
The cake should alwavs be fresh. Filling: One
square of Baker's chocolate, one cupful of sugar,
the yolks of two eggs, one-third of a cupful of
boiling milk. Mix scraped chocolate and sugar
together; then add, very slowly, the boiling milk
aud then the eggs, and simmer ten times, being
careful that itdoesnotburn. Flavor with vanilla.
Have it fully cold before using.
A Useful Cement. Finely powdered white
sugar, one ounce; finely powdered starch, three
ounces ; finely powdered
ounces. Rub well together in a dry mortar, then
little by little add cold water until it is of the
thickness of melted glue; put in a wide-mouthed
bottle and cork closely. The powder thoroughly
ground and mixed may be kept for any length of
time in a wide-mouthed bottle, and when wanted
a little may be mixed with water with a stiff
brush. It answers ordinarily for all the purposes
for which musiiage is used and is specially com
mendable as a cement for labels, since it does not
lecome brittle and crack off.
Beady Method of Preparing Fomenta
tions. Take your flannel, folded to the required
thinckness and size, dampened quite perceptibly
with water, but not enought to drip, and place
it between the folds of a large newspaper, having
the edges of the paper lap well over the cloth, so
as to give no vent to the steam. Thus prepared,
lay it on the heated surface of the stove or reg
ister, and in a moment steam is generated from
the under surface and has permeated the whole
cloth sufficiently to heat it to the required tem
pcature. This method is often very convenient
and efficient where there is no opportunity to
heat much water at a time. Michigan Medical