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Newspaper Page Text
AS TOLD BY AUNT GERTIE
" 'Among the Danish beech groves
near the Baltic sea began the earth
"'Oh, goody, that's the kind of
story we like' sang out the plates
along the wall.
v " 'Yes, that was where 1 spent my
childhood days. The house was kept
in such good order. The furniture
was so bright and clean. The win
dows were like mirrors '
" 'Oh what a-beautiful story,' chor
used the hair broom, the water "pail
and the plates altogether. So the
earthenware jar went on with her
story to the end and everybody was
glad to have heard it.
" 'Now what shall we do next?'
called the tea urn.
' " 'I'll dance,'-cried the fire-tongs.
And she danced right merrily.
" 'Oh, mercy,' said the matches to
each other; how common these peo
' '..'Then the tea-urn was asked to
sing, but she had a very bad'cold.
- " 'H'm,' said the old quill pea on
the window ledge. 'If tea-urns can't
sing, why not ask the ..nightingale
just outside the window to come in
and sing for us?'
"Tish, tush,' called the tea kettle,
who always considered it his special
right 'to do all the singing, T am
ashamed of any one suggesting that
-we -ask a foreigner to help in our en
tertainmeflt.' -" 'I am sorry, too,' said the turf
basket, 'that such a thing should be
mentioned. Let's turn everything
topsy-turvy. Let's have a new order
"'Good,' they all cried together.
'Well make a great noise and disturb
the whole house.'
"Just as they were preparing to
turn, night into day with their fun the
kitchen tloor opened and in walked
the servant Everything was as still
as a mouse. There wasn't a sound
anywhere. The girl went right over
to the shelf and took the matches
down. In striking one, the whole
bunch caught fire, flew into a great
blaze, sputtered and made everything
very bright for a "minute. Then they
"The wonderful matches of high
descent were gone forever. The hum,
Jle iron pot, the turf basket, the old
quill pen and the tea kettle were
there just as good as ever."
Did the king and queen like the
story and would they let the mer
chant's son marry their daughter?
Wait and see.
(To be continued.)
NO LABOR-SAVING MACHINE
By Walt Whitman.
No labor-saving machineT
Nor discovery have I made;
Nor will I be able to leave behind
me any wealthy bequest to found a
hospital or library,
Nor reminiscence of any deed of
cqurage, for America,
Nor literary success, nor intellect
nor book for the book-shelf;
Only a few carols, vibrating
through the air, I leave,
For comrades and lovers.
Into two cups of molasses stir a
cup of melted shortening, ateaspoon
f ul of ground cinnamon, a tablespoon
of pulverized ginger and half a tea
spoon of baking soda. Beajt well, add
enough flour to make a soft dough;
form with floured hands Into small
cakes and bake, -