Newspaper Page Text
THE iMORNES'Gr TIMES, JtfOjtfDAT, MARCH 29, 3897.
Lansburgh & Bro.
AN EVEN 4 DOZEN,
We have just "culled"
six special values for the
frugal housekeeper for
today's and tomorrow's
shopping. These prices
you will recognize as spe
cial prices, but of course
you will understand these
prices only hold good for
two days today -and to
morrow. We couldn't af
ford it any longer,
7c Bleached Muslin, 1 yard wide,
Plain Hemmed Pillow Cases,
Hemstitched Pillow Cases,
lGc 10-4 Unbleached Shooting,
25c Feather-proof Ticking-,
Eest Quality" "Otlca Sheets,
420, 422, 424, 426 7th St.
G5S5GS5S SSSSSIiSQ SSSSGSSSSQ
In the house another day; there's
health in every breath of this balmy
spring air. Get a carriage today
-never mind about the money Take
your choice of a hundred new spring
styles any price you can think of
from $5 to $50,
Is Good! I
Pay the bill as you please weekly
or monthly no notes no interest.
Have you seen the new mattings?
We sell only reliable grades and
we tack tliem down free! Carpet
made, laid and lined free no charge
for waste in matching figures.
riammoth Credit House,
817. 119. 21. 23 7th St. H. "W-
Between II and IStj.
loc Dress Ginghams, lutes,
and checks -.
s "7th Nt. mv.
PAINTER OF MINIATURES,
Removed to 932 F Street,
Instructions to a limited class ereri morning.
000 Window Shade, with Patent
Hollers. Worth 20c. special
KOG 7th St. n. W. 1U24-1926
KING'S PALACE. II
I More Suit and I
1 Skirt Bargains.
New purchases. Nothing but the
R newest and best of everything. All
m popular styles in material, color
KJ ana cnect represented here. Come
w early as possible lor the cream.
If S25S20, S15 and S12 La-
! dies' and Misses' Sam-
g pie Suits. 300 of them.
0 The rntiro saiudo lin" of a New
fcj orcci in rasnionable style,
f storm riy rrout, reerer,
ra blazer and rvorroiK efrects;
H siiu-iiiied, two-tone e:rects;
H ail colors, piam, braided;
IS your choice $7.98
RS Black and figurcdMohair
Kj Sktrts extremely well
BJ made and nnished. Usual
sa price. S1.4. Special price 95c
0 Black and White Check
13 Skirts, and newest novel
la ties, well made aud per
m l'ecuy riuisticd. Usual
R $2.5U value. Special price.. $1.3 9
i King's Palace.
g S12-SU 7th St. Branch Store, 715 Mar
K ket S aco.
H The Largest Milliner- and Cloak
fej House iu tliC District.
PEARLS PROM THE PULPIT
"Light in the meaning of the text, Let
your light shine, is figurative of the
Christian graces. It will shine unless
Hindered. All shadow is caused by the
hindrance of light. A Christly spirit will
shine out unless hindered. This admoni
tion is greatly needed today. Worldliness,
carelessness, pleasure, have a tendency
to obscure the light of Christian living."
Rev. II. R, Naylor, at MeKendree 31. E.
"The natural principle of faith is exceed
ingly prominent and important. A man
from the cradle to the grave is governed
by faith. Education would be impossible
without faith. Society is bound together
by faith. If faith were eliminated from
eocicty the latter would be dissolved.
Society la impossible without faith.'
Rev-. Dr. R. U. McKim, at Epiphany.
"The Gospel contains an excellent sys
tem of doctrine aud enjoins certain simple
ceremonies, but these are not religion.
A sound creed is indispensable and appro
priate forms of worship invaluable aids.
Wc cannot dispense with songs and pray
ers, and sermons and sacraments. But
these arc not religion. They bear about
tho. same relation to it as the pitcher
bears to the water it contains." Rev.
Dr. Lucien Clark.at Foundry M. E. Chuich.
DEBTORS TB THE GREEKS
Dr. Talmage on What the World
Owes to Them.
MORE THAN CAN BE PAID
To Tliem the "World In Indebted
for Architecture, Sculpture, the
Scieucc of Medicine, and More
Than It Can J? ay lor Struggles in
the Sacred Cauhc of Liberty.
Rev. T. DeWitt Talmage took for his
text yesterday, Romans 1: 11: "1' am
debtor both to the Greeks and to the
barbarians." He spoke iu part as fol
lows: "At this time, when that behemoth of
abominations, Mohammedanism, after hav
ing gorged itself on the carcasses of 50,
000 Armenians, is trying to put Its paws
upou one of the fairest or all nations, that
of the Greeks, 1 preach this sermon of
sympathy and protest, for every intelli
gent person oa this side of the sea, as
-well us the other side, like Paul who
wrote the text, is debtor to the Greeks."1
The nreseut crisis is emphasized by the
guns of the allied powers of Europe, ready
to be unlimbered against the Hellenes, and
1 am asked to speak out.
"While we must leave to statesmanship
and diplomacy the settlement of the in
tricate questions which now involve all
Europe, and indirectly all nations, it is
time for all churches, all schools, all uni
versities, all arts, all literatures to sound
out in the most emphatic way the declara
tion, "1 am debtor to the Greeks.'
"In the first place, we owe to their lan
guage our New Testament. All of it was
first written in Greek, except the Book of
Matthew, aud that written in the Arnmeau
language was soon put into Greek by our
Saviour's brother, James. To the Gicek
language wc owe the best sermons ever
preached, the best letters ever written, the
best visions ever kindled. All the para
bles are In Greek. All the miraclesinGreek.
The sermon on the mount in Greek. The
story of Bethlehem and Golgotha and
Olivet and Jordan banks aud Galilean
beaches and Pauline embarkation and Pen
tecostal tongues and seven trumpets that
sounded over Patnios, have come to the
world in liquid, symmetric, picturesque,
philosophic, unrivalled Greek, instead of
the gibberish language in which many of
the nations of the earth at that time Jab
bered. "From the Greeks the world learned Low
to make history. Had there been no
Herodotus and Thucydides, there would
have been no Macauley or Bancrort. Had
there been no Aeschylus in tragedy , there
would have been no Shakespeare. Had
there been no Homer, there would have
been no Milton. The modern wits, who
arc, now or have been out on the divine
mission of making the world laugh at the
right time, can be traced back to Atis
tophanes, the Athenian, and many of the
jocosities that are now taken as new had
their suggestions twenty-three hundred
years ago in the flftj-four comedies of
that master of merriment.
"All the civilized woild, like Paul, is
indebted to the Greeks for architectuie.
The world berorc the time of the Greeks
had built monoliths, obelisks, cioinlechs,
sphinxs, and pyramids, but they were
mostly monumental to the dead, whom
they failed to memorialize. "We are not
certain of even the names of those iu
whose commemoration the pyramids were
built. But Gieek architecture did most
for the living. Ignoring Egyptian prec
edents, and borrowing nothing fiom other
nations, Greek architecture carved its own
columns, set its own pediments, adjusted
itsown entablatures, rounded its cwn inold
iugs. and cairied out as never befoie the
three qualities of right building, called
by an old authoi firmitas, utllitas, venus
tas,' namely, firmness usefulness, beauty.
"But there is another art in my mind
the most fascinating, elevating, and in
spiring of all arts, and the nearest to the
divine- for which all the world owes a
debt to the Hellenes that will never be
paid. I mean sculpture. At least six hun
dred and fifty years before Christ the
Greeks perpetuated the human face and
form iu teria cotta and marble. "What a
blessing to the human family that men and
women, mightily useful, who could live
only within a century may be perpetuated
for five or six or teu centuries. How I
wish that some sculptor, contemporaneous
with Christ, could have put his matchless
form in marble! But for every grand aud
exquisite statue of Martin Luther, of John
Knox, of William Penn, of Thomas Chal
mers, of Wellington, of Lafayrtr.e, of any
of the great statesmen or emancipators or
conquerors who adorn your parks or fill
the niches of your academies, you are
debtors to the Greeks.
"Yea! For the science of medicine, the
great art of healing, wc must thank the
Greeks. There is the immortal Greek
doctor, Hippocrates, who first opened the
door for disease to go out and health
to come in. He first set forth the im
portance of cleanliness and sleep, making
the patient before treatment to be washed
and take slumber on the hide of a sacrificed
beast. He first discovered the importance
of thorough prognosis and diagnosis. He
formulated the famous oath of Hippocrates
which is taken by physicians of our day.
"Furthermore, all the world is obligated
to Hellas more than it can ever pay for its
heroics in the cause of liberty and right.
United Europe today had not better think
that the Greeks will not fight. There may
be fallings back and vacillations and tem
porary defeat, but if Greece is right .all
Europe cannot put her down. The other
nations, before they open the portholes of
their men-of-war against that small king
dom, had better read of the battleof Mara
thon, where 10.000 Athenians, led on by
Miltiades, triumphed over 100,000 of their
"Also at Thermopylae 300 Greeks, along
a road only wide enough for a wheel track
between a mountain and a marsh, died
rather than surrender. Had there been no
Thermopylae, there might have been no
Bunker Hill. The echo of Athenian and
Spartan heroics was heard at the gates of
Lucknow, and Sebastonol, and Bannock
burn, and Lexington, and Gettysburg. Eng
lish Magna Charta, our Declaration of In
dependence, and the song of Robert Burns
entitled "A Man's a Man for a' That,'
were only the long-continued reverberation
of what was said and done twenty cen
tures before in that little kingdom that
the powers of Europe are now Imposing
A2f ELOQTJKXT PLEA FOR GREECE.
Dr. Mnnatt on tho Glories and
StruRtrles of Tier People.
Dr. J. Irving Mnnatt, of BrownUnivereity,
and formerly United States consul general
at Athens, Greece, delivered an address
to a large audience at the First Presby
terian Church last evening. Dr. Manatt's
theme was "Paul on Mars Hill," and his
familiarity with the geography of the
country about tho ancient Grecian city
enabled him to present with vivid force
descriptions of that classic laud. In
opening his. address Dr. Manatt said:
"If I may testify out of four happy
years sojourn among them, the Greeks
are very much alive; and If ever there was
a case in history where a debt.accumulatetl
through thirty centuries could be paid
to honest lineal hul
has an account to settle -with the living
Greek. Your pastor has dwelt upon claims
two thousand years old or more, but the
account was not then closed. Marathon
and Salamis saved Europe and America
to civilization; and it was nineteen
centuries before an Ablatio power again
set foot in that little land or liberty
which we call Greece. Where the Persian
failed, the Ottoman won; and after en
camping there for four centuries he left
Greece (some sixty years ago), a smok
ing desolation drenched in blood. Few
are they who remember that Holy struggle
that seven years of blood and butchery
sanctioned by Christian Europe in the in
terest or toppling thronesand the balance
of power. But through it all, one nation
the only one with no irons iu the lire
of Eastern politics never turned the cold
shoulder to gallant little Greece. -In
yonder Capitol, Henry Clay was her splendid
spokesman, and Dr. Samuel G. Howe
knightly son of the university to which
1 belong was not only the almoner of
our people's bounty sent out by ship loads,
but surgeon general of the Greek forces
thus paying back a little of our debt to
"If Marathon and Thermopylae had lost
any of their meaning, they got It all back
again in that war or independence, and,
after sixty years of recovered" nationality,
we see the spirit of Leonidas flaming out
again today. Young Constantino has gone
beyond Thermopylae, and his skirmish line
Is under Mount Olympus. If Homer's
gods still have their mansions above, this
must be a high day among them.
"It Is a geed time to pay a little interest.
at least, on our debt to the Greeks. And,
without any Jingoism , the paj ment of over
due debts is eternally in order. " "Wc have
no ships in the Aegean, ami we want none
until a few moic or cur citizens are kid
naped and a few nioie American schools
burned by our great and good friend on
the Bosphorus. But we have human
hearts and free speech. By one splendid
utterance, the flist citizen of the world -the
Grand Old Man of Hawarden iu his
venerable retirement, has made it impes
posslble for an English ministry to let
loose the dogs of war on Greece. The
public opinion of this country the ardent
sympathy of a free people with a rccple
determined to be free is one of the moral
forces on which Greece relies. Give It
voice and vim. Let It be felt In London,
in Paris, in Borne all of them philhellenic
in the very fiber of the popular If not the
"We are at pence with the parte nil the
acts of war being thus farontheporte'sside
and wc do not quarrel with Its creed; but
we cannot help sympathizing with
democracy against desyuttsui, with progrcw
against paralysis, with civilization against
barbarism. And In all this wc are heart
to heart with the Greeks. The concert of
tyranny In Europe is clearly brenkingdown
under the righteous wrath of people who
prefer wholesome war to protected butch
ery; that the break down of that concert
seems the best hope of peace as well as of
liberty. Let us have peace and arbitration;
but let us be a free people with the courage
of our convictions and the honesty to own
our debts, be it to the Greek or the bar
HAVE SAILED FOR EUROPE
Bradley-Martins on (he Way
Mr. and Mrs. Henry White Among
the l'nssengers "Who Left on
Mr. and Mrs. Bradley-Martin sailed on
Saturday Tor Liveriwol. They were accom
panied by Mrs. Isaac Sherman, Mrs. Bradley-Martin's
mother; two maids and a valet.
The Bradley-Martin party will occupy two
parlor suites on the Campania on the trip
over. Thei-e rooms were filled with orchids
and Americnn Beauties for the reception
of the fair American who has created such
a furore in New l'ork by her lavish style
of living and entertaining; and the depar
ture on Saturday was attended with all
the' eclat of her winter's reign. .Mr. and
Mrs. Bradley-Martin will open their Scot
tish estate, Balmacan, for the early spring,
and will go to London in June, when the
season there is at its height. They are al
ready planning luncheons, dances -and other
gay affairs, which will no doubt impress
fashionable London as they have impressed
fashionable New ITork. Young Bradley
Martin goes over after the spring exami
nations at Harvard.
Mr. Henry White, the new charge d'
affaires of the United States embassy at
London, accompanied by Mrs. White, also
sailed on the Campania. Mr. White is an
intimate friend of Mr. William Waldorf
Astor aud Lord Roscbery.
Miss Juliet Thompson lias jutt com
pleted a three-quarter length portrait of
Miss Hyde, the West Washington beauty,
who has been such a belle since her debut
The marriage of Miss Kate McClel
land, or this city, to Mr. Frank Chapiu
Lothrop, of Milford, Mass., will take place
on April 21, at Hamllne M. E. Church.
Mr. and Mrs. H. B. Smith celebrated the
birthday of Sir. Smith on Friday evening
last by' entertaining a number of their
friends at a card party.
The studio was beautifully decorated with
plants and flowers, land it was here that
the company entered into the game of
hearts. The first prizes were won by
Miss L. Montrop and Mr. Lentz, while the
consolation prizes were received by Mrs.
A. Humphrey and Mr. C. E. Young. A
dainty collation was served at midnight.
The guests were Mr. and Mrs. C. E.
Young, Mr. andMr.i. F. Ward, Mr. and Mrs.
W. R. Carver, Mr. and Mrs. A. Humphrey,
Mr. n. Southwick, Mr. A. Gilbert, Mrs.
W. Lentz, the Misses Lentz and Miss
Ou Friday evening, March 26, the Glee
Club of Battery A, Fourth Artillery, gave
a very enjoyable entertainment at Fort
A fine musical program was rendered
by Privates Webster, Desser, Sergt. John
son, Capt. Hurley, Private Keralla, Private
Drummond, Private J. M. Brown, Private
Miller, and Private Donnovan.
After the program was concluded the
ballroom Avas cleared for dancing, which
was greatly" enjoyed by the soldier boys
and their visitors. Later, all repaired
to the messroom, where an elegant repast
was served. A 11 voted the evening a great
success and will repeat In the neur future.
An Ohio Suggestion.
First Senator What do you think of
the President's request that both Senators
should agree on the candidates fcr olfice
from each State?
Second Senator It suits me all right.
To every obnoxious fellow who asks me to
recommend him I'll say that you certainly
will not agree to it ha, ha, ha!
"And I'll say the same of jou ha, ha,
"But suppose you turn down some ot
the men I want?"
"You can do the same for me ha, ha,,
"That's so ha, ha, ha 1" Cleveland
if the world had wealtl
FOR I CHAKGE t THE LI
Tho President Said to Favor
CONGRESS MUST APPROVE
air. aieKiiiley Desires to Appoint
2Cev Men Unembarrassed by .Local
.Entanglements Gossip its to the
Chances of the Several Aspirants.
The Selection.'! AVlll He Deluved.
The contest for the two District Com-nilssionershlps-,
.which is Just now of more
local interest, perhaps, than any other
issue, has developed ti new und remark
able phase, according to well-informed
circles, and one which will be consequence
to District citizenship. This is the proba
bility of the adoptipa of a proposition to
so modify the organic law as to permit
the uppoiutment uf one uon-resiuent as a
member or the board.
If is said with great confidence, and
tiipuuuppurently good authority, that Presi
dent McKInley Is .seriously considering
this suggestion., ami, In view of his de
clared puipose, to fcelect as members of
the board men who have been in nowise
associated with or embarrassed by local
entanglement, It is believed he will favor
it. The method by which this could be
accomplished Is only by legislative enact
ment, of course, and would Involve delay
iu the choice of Commissioners, if, indeed,
the Congre&s would consent at all to the
new departure. The declaration is muile
witii great positiveness that the President's
Intention is to havu a new deal. It is
understood to be his purpose, also, to
make no appointment of Commissioner
just now, probably noU before May or
June, for the sole reason, it is alleged,
that he desires to have ample time to
consider the situation, to the end that
the best interests of the District amy be
subserved in the constitution of the board.
He recognizes the municipal, government
or Washington as an Important adjunct to
the National Administration, aud nat
urally wantsltto be a success.
Tho fact that both the present civilian
Commissioners are being urged for reap
pointment is looked upou as fatal to the
chances of both. It Is argued that neither
could bo appointed without seriously em
barrassing tho Administration, and that
botli cannot succeed. The President-would
be at a loss to explain his reasons for
failing to appoint either, If one is left
out, and as a result there would be criti
cism at the outset, which the President
wishes to avoid.
Mr. McKinloy is not renewing the Har
rison Administration nor indorsing the
Cleveland Administration In making ap
pointments, nor is he, lu many cases, re
appointing men who have had already a
liberal share of official honor aud emolu
ments. This is accepted by many as
another indication that neither of the two
present Commissioners will be reappointed.
It is declared, also. In addition, that cer
tain Senators, some of them members of
the District Committee, have been at the
White House to request the Presidential
to appoint Col. Truesdell, and yet other
Senators, possibly in conjunction with the
members of the District Committee, have
given Mr. MeKinley to understand that
they will be at his service whenever he
shall be ready to consider these appoint
ments. A very strong Senatorial influence is
back of Mr. Boss., He is also said to htive
a most .flattering, indorsement from tho
local business "men of the District. But
it la observed tlpit the President has not
so far made appointments from the class
of known applicants, and or candidates
who submit papets and petitions. If he
were to ite governed by petitions. Col.
Truesdell might well hope to be reappointed,
for he in understood to have on his papers
the name of. every local bank president
but one, and many lawyers, doctors, cler
gymen, and priests, and the Jewish rabbi,
ordinarily a powerful support.
That the President is taking notes of
current events, and that he will be gov
erned, in some measure, by the record of
the present board.it is cited that hs made
inquiry recently as to the cause of the
late revocation of the order which re
quired trains to come to a full stop
before crossing streets where the tracks
intersected with street car lines which
order was suspended after a' long aud
successful, but bitter, legal fight and an
appeal to the highest District court. It
is hinted that the Pennsylvania Railroad
Company is likely to object to the ap
pointment of Col. M. M. Parker's candi
date. The fight of a few years ago which the
company waged for terminal facilities is
recalled, and it is remembered that Col.
Parker was the company's bitter opiw
nent. He was then at the head of the
Board of Trade, and used his position and
the Influence of the organization to back
up a protest against the company's propo
sition. President MeKinley was at the time
a member of the House. Whether the big
Pennsylvania corporation will forget and
forgive and permit Col. Parker to name
a Commissioner remains to be seen.
This, in brief, is a recapitulation of the
current rumors. Mr." MeKinley is said to
have made but one definite expression af
fecting the Commissionership, and that Is
the opinion that the District is not suffer
ing for want of a change, aud that it is his
purpose to appoint a board which will give
the community the best service. His selec
tions are likely to be a great surprise, and.
contrary to the present general belief, the
appointments made be made soon .
A Sermon ou Character.
Rev. Dr. MaltbieB. Babcock, oftheBrown
Memorial Church, Baltimore, filled the
pulpit yesterday morning and evening at
the Church of the Covenant. A large au
dience heard his morning sermon.
The discourse was a strong and forcible
one, dealing with the theme, "Moral Lone
liness.'' He said. In part : "Loneliness of indi
viduality means indivisibility of person, or
personality. There is all through life a
loneliness we cannot escape. Our lives are
to be Interpreted by the thought of this in
dividuality; this loneliness of. love.
"God sees individual development. We
do notkonw whatlife is until we recognize
that it is a sacrificial thing, and for lack
of. this thereare thousands ot lives spoiling
without peace. Tlw chief end of man is to
glorify God, but it comes to units when we
count the men who choose to do a hard
thing for the Creator's good.
"The first influence of moral loneliness
is upon character. The principle of all good
government ia in moral loneliness. It is
not inevitable that men go with the crowd,
but to choose a distinct Christian life and a
separate Christian work means ueecssarily
moral loneliness. Character that does not
come of effort is not character. Character
is an outcome of. individual battles andls a
reaction of struggle. No one can fight
my battles for rile; I must fight them alone.
"The fear of eccentricity has lost many
a man's distinction. 'The boy that dislikes
to be called peculiar generally goes down
the common way of life. Do not be afraid
to bo peculiar orto stand o'Jt alone. Daring
to stand and caVirigrnot for the vengeance
of the mob is character. If you follow the
crowd you wil.l be. like ordinary people.
Cflvc to be. extraordinary."
THE ECONOMY CLUB.
'The 1'oolif.h man," said Kathcrine,
"tliscoursheth of fate and free will, and
the wickedness of the human heart; the
wise woman referrcth to her cookbook."
ICatherlne Is a born cook, although she
has never had much training. She and
her sister live in two little rooms, not too
fur from the business quarter of the city,
and do I heir own housekeeping. They
have not made any very elaborate-arrangements,
because life is uncertain, aud they
may have to move; but they like it, on the
whole, better than boarding.
Their kitchen is a cracker-box. which con
tains a small oil stove, a frying pan, two
saucepans, dishpan and mop, hot-water
kettle, egg-beater and asbestos mat for
toasting bread;also a tin box. Their china
Is a sort of harlequin set, not matching, but
harmonizing; their silver la of the kind
sold in the bousc-furnlshing department
of dry goods stores on bargain days; but It
precludes, the fear of burglars. Oneorthese
days theyaregoiugtohave agasstove with
have to cook their meals in a sort of arith
metical progression one thing at a time.
Tor breakfast the bill of fare is as fol
lows: Fruit or oatmeal.
Omelet, scrambled eggs, fried eggs or
some sort of meat.
Rolls and coffee.
The arithmetical progression is as fol
lows: While the coffee is makiug the omelet
is prepared, so that it is ready to be cooked
the moment the coffee pot is lifted off
the stove. There are ways, aud there
are ways, to make an omelet, but this is
Three eggs arc beaten, yolks and whites
separately. Just before the butter in the
frylngpau begins to hiss, six teaspoonfuls
of water, two for each egg. are added to
the yolks and thoroughly beaten in. Then
she pours them Into the pan, aud sprinkles
over them about a teaspoonrul of grated
cheese. After a minute she adds the
whites, and as the eggs begin to cook it
becomes necessary, with an oil stove, to
turn the pan around, that they may cook
evenly. When the omelet Is folded over
the white center It grows deliciously putfy
and light, and it Is a good plan to cover
the pan for at least a minute or so of the
cooking. Then the omelet will rine up
and lift the cover off, and at this point
it should be quickly deposited on a hot
plate and eaten at once. The rolls have
been secured from a neighboring grocery,
and sometimes Katherlne and her fcister
buy yotuc Saratoga chips, or fry a few po
tatoes before cooking the omelet. And
the breakfast costs them about 15 cents,
while exactly the same tilings would have
cost at a restaurant at least half a dolLir.
The fruit, of course, doesn't need any
cooking, and when they have oatmeal It
goes on before the coffee does, being
cooked while the girls are dressing.
They can have toast, too, toast as It
should be eaten fresh from the fire, as
tho little stove sits on au old-fashioned
"cricket" close by the table.
"Doesn't the oil stove make the whole
room smell of kerosene?" somebody will
say, with a suggestive uplifting of tho
nose. Not exactly. There is just as much
art in managing an oil stove as in man
aging anything else, though it has Its
sliaru of the depravity of inanimate ob
jects. Why should tin oil stove become of
fensive any more than au oil lamp, I
should like to know' Neither of them
will. If they are properly taken care of
Somebody else will object that the
smell of the cooking, if not of the kero
sene, must cling to the rooms: but as I
visited there for several Weeks before 1
knew that any such performances went on
iu the snug little sitting-room, I conclude
it does not. Or course they can't cook
cabbage, or onions, and they don't want
to. Forsome tilings one would much better
go to a restaurant. The most unpleasant
thing about the average boarding-house is
this perpetual atmosphere of cooking. It
is an eternal reminder that that house has
to work for its living. But this dainty,
semi-Bohemian way of living is a different
Ttie dinner is a much simpler affair than
one gets in "society," but it is quite sat
isfactory. It is not always begun with
soup, but when it is the soup emerges from
a can, neither of the girls being able to
stay at home, and look after a soup pot
all day. Potatoes they can have, and corn
and peas aud stewed tomatoes, the latter
fronithosc same cans: beefsteaks, fried and
boiled rish, oysters, elams and nlmo&t any
thing in the way of a salad.
Katherlne Improvised one day a sort of
bain-marie, by filling the dlshpau with
boiling water and setting it over the regis-"
ter, while the saucepans containing the
vegetables were set into it, tightly cov
ered, to keep warm while she finished
cooking the steak. When they have their
new gas stove things will be much easier.
Here is another of Katherine's recipes,
which she practices now and then at an
Informal sort ot chafing-dish party. Did
you overeat panned oysters on toast? Try
It some time. But to enjoy them to their
full extent It is necessary to have a pretty
girl, In a dainty bib-apron, distributing the
oysters on the quaint little plates, and
toasting her cheeks and the bread at the
A slice of bread for each guest, toasted,
and placed on a hot plate, if possible
Six oysters at least for each person.
The oyster liquor, in a frying-pan, cov
ered and set on the stove to boil.
Here endeth the first lesson.
When the compound In the pan begins to
bubble, add red pepper and salt, and then
the oysters. Cover closely and cook for
exactly two minutes. Then put In some
butter plenty of It. Dip the slices of bread
quickly in the broth, lay the oysters on top,
serve with pickles, and fancy crackers, if
you like, and your guests will do the rest
Kathetlne says it never fails to put an
end to conversation for the nextmlnuteor
two. The secret of the whole matter is
In theseasoning, and this canbelearnedonly
by experience. It i3 dangerous to give too
many shakes to the pepper box.
It is not claimed that this scheme is the
best for all people, for if it were and
they should adopt it the hotel men and
the restaurant keepers would suffer: also,
in some cases, the doctors. But it has this
great advantage, that one may economize
on what one doesn't like and indulge in
what one does like to a certain extent:
and it has also the advantage ot being
cheaper than almost any other way of
living. And as life to some people is one
long endcavortosettle the problem whether
to wear good clothes that are not paid
for or poor ones that are. whether to live
luxuriously and leave the board bill un
settled or economically and have dyspep
sia, Katherlne and her sister find this
way of solving the question most satis
factory both from the point, of honesty
Keep Them Covered.
Kerosene, vinegar, and all sorts ot spirits
evaporate if they are left uncovered. Mo
lasses also loses much of its flavor If left
uncorked. Canned goods and preserves, it
not kept air-tight, will become moldy.
Dried fruits exposed to the air become
wormy. Cake and bread grow hard and
stale and then moldy it left uncovered.
Orange Peel. 11s Kindling.
Save orange peel for kindling. When
dried it is almost as easily ignited as
kerosene-soaked shavings, for it contains
an oil itself. Boston Traveller.
(Copyright, 1807, by C. K. Gaines.)
Sir John Blount, late captain In Her
Majesty's Life Guards, a man youug.
handsome, and- of distinguished appear
ance, has just returned to his English homo
from a long absence abroad. The morning
after his arrival, while seated on his ver
anda, a dainty little girl or three or four
years, conies, across the lawn toward hfm.
She introduces herself as Margie and at
once mukea friends with Sir John, who
entertains her with sugar and cake wliich
Bonuev, the servant, brings. Pretty soon
an attractive young lady puts In an appear
ance. She is looking anxiously for Margie
and is rejoiced to lind her. it transpires
that they live in Elm cottage and are
tenants of Sir John. The latter Is much
astonb-hed to learn that Margie is the
daughter of the young woman.
Her daughter! He is to astonished ly
this announcement that it is only after
wardwhen she is quite gone, when not
even a fold of her white gown is to be seen
through the trees that he remembers two
things. First, that her tone when she
acknowledged the child as hers had been
triumphant; and second, that he himself
had experienced after that declaration
a most extraordinary feeling ot sudden
The old soldier arrives at once, saluting.
"Who is the lady who lives In EIrn
"Tall young lady? Mother o' missy?
She's a Mrs. Wilniot, sir, and a widdy.
Widdies are dangerous, captain. Give her
plenty of room. Take t'other side o' hedge,
This, no.doutit, was excellent advice but
who takes kindly to advice? Not Sir John
in this instance, anyway. He sharply
turned a deaf ear to it and went down to
the Elm Cottage the morning following.
"Margaret, you will marry me!" His
oice is low but full of passion. He has
both her hatitU in his. It is two months
since that first meeting on the verandir,
and now he has laid his heart beneath her
feet. Will she trample on it?
"You ask me -of whom you know noth
ing to be your wife!" She la very-pale.
"I ask you that. Margaret." He is.
quire as pale now as she is.
"It cannot be impossible. You tell me
your husband Is dead."
"Yes, but wait. No. listen to me-" She
turns upon him a face full of misery.
"You compel me to speak. Well, hear
me, though God knows it draws blood from,
my heait to put my dreadful story Into
"You shall not speaki Margaret. Do
you," with sudden passion, "think me so
selfish a devil that I would ease my own
mind at the expense of youis?"
"I shall speak, however," says .Mar
gatet."and you shall hear. It is nn old.
old story. I married him. the man I
thought my husband not loving him
but because my father urged me to it. 1
had no one to wain me against him except
a cousin, and she was of no importance
then, though she is a very great ladv now,
1 hear. She was fond of me, and I cf her,
but I was afraid or my father, and I con
sented to the marriage. When I n.anied
him, she cast me off. I thought her hard
then but now I know how very kind she
lutaut to be."
"Your cousin's name?"
"To ask me that is to ask me every
thing." "Well! Why not? Look here." says
be, "do you suppose the present life of
yours can go on forever without questions?
That no moment will come when you'll
wish it altered?"
"Not one," firmly.
"Not even," quite as firmly, "when
your little girl Is a big girl?"
"You see." says he, triumphantly, "you
had better tell me everything."
"I cannot," faintly, "and, besides," re
covering herself, "when my Margie Is a
big girl there will be all the more.reason
for concealing from her the unhappy fact
that" She pauses. "Well well," sigh
ing heavily, "enough of Margie! I have
told you that my cousin objected to my
marriage with my husband-and that I
thought her unkind then. 1 don't think
that now. She knew. He he Ah!"
Sharply. "I cannot go into that with you
even! I endured it all. But r found
there was more to be endured. At the"
last the very last when he lay on his
deathbed, he" told me" she grows very
white "he told me what has made an
end of the sweetness and Ioveliuess of life
Tor me forever."
"He told yon "
"That I had never been his wife! The
truth! A man, dying, to lie like that!
No! On his deathbed he spoke bitterly,
for the first time, the truth to me, to
make worse, even worse, the life before
me than that 1 had led with him. He
declared distinctly he had been married
before. He showed me the certificate."
"Brute!" says Blount, between his teeth.
"l'es " with terrible calmness, "he
was that- However, the injury to myself
I could have borne, but-the child! Ob, no!
Oh, no!" she breaks off. shivering, catch
ing her hands togethera little wildly. "Oh,
my Margie! That the curse should fall ou
"Margaret, what has- all this to do with
you and me?" cries Blount, passionately.
"Give yourself to me aad lose oil memory
of the past in our marriage-"
For a moment she looks at him. There is
the saddest, the mast absorbing love and
reverence I n her gaze.
'And I shall be the happiest man
"Married," slowly, "to. the most selfish
woman alive. Oh. no!" she throws out both
her hands, "f have known so much mlsery
myself that I swear," vehemently, "I
will never bo the cause of misery to
"No, no!" a little wildly. 'T will not!
Do you think that afterwards -later on
yon would not feel feel though you might
never say it that the mother of your
children hail a cruet story attached to her
name a strain upou it?"
"That is a harsh judgment. Margaret.
Have I given you cause for it?"
"Never, indeed! But still, would you be
proof against the world's cruel verdict?"
"The world would judge you as I do."
"Ah! You little know It. And what
ot my child? Would it be fair to herr
How would yon think ot her?'
"As your daughter," firmly.
"Ah!" She makes a little agonized
movement to him to be silent. Margie,
indeed, has just pushed open the door and
Is coming toward themT her hands filled
.with her own flowers her marguerites.
"Como here, Margie," says Blount, a
little desperately, "and comfort me. Your
mother has been unkind."
"Here's mconles for 'oo," says Miss
Margie, holding up her bundle of margue
rites, as a salve for her mother's cruelty.
'Ah, now! That won't do. You love
me, don't you Margie?"
Margie slips her little arms around him.
Blount looks at Margaret triumphantly
J over her pretty head.
"If you love me say something for me,
he whispers to the child.
"Thank! God for my good dinner," says
Murgie, promptly, it slightly Irrelevantly.
It Is her lust lesson and she is very proud
Blount laughs mournfully, kisses tho
child, and, loosening her arms, she runs
to her mother, nings all her daisies into
her lap, pulls down her head, and kisses
her, too, and darts out of the window into
the glowing garden beyond-
"You see! even she cannot help you,'
say Margaret, with a faint smile, but
"If she cannot " he breaks off ab
ruptly, and for a moment they gaze into
each other's eyes, scarce seeing each other
for the mist that lies bewteeu them.
"Oh, my lore!" cries she at last, tremu
lously. "I am sorry. Not even you can
know how sorry I am or how I suffer
It is death to me death. But to sully
your good name! Ah! I have endured a
great ileal, but I have not the strength
"You would honor my good nanie!"'
"Go," says she, in a suffcntlng tone.
"It is good-by, then?" hoarsely.
"It is but " bursting into tears
"I cannot say it. Go go in mercy '
He catches her in his arms, and for tha
first perhaps the last time- he kisses her.
"There shall be no good-by between us
two,'' he whispers, passionately. "I
am going now. But I shall come back,
He has turned, has passed into the gar
den with a white face aud rigid lips, and
lias turned the corner leading to the side
path, when suddenly he finds himself faco
to face, with a tall aud very pretty woman.
She has Margie's hands in hers, and see
ing Blount, she comes to a standstill, re
garding him with the frankest surprise
We must go tack thirty minutes or so.
Margie had run into the sunlit garden, us
has heeu said, and the chasing of butter
flies brings Iter presently to the clipped
beech hedge that hides the cottage from
the road outside and presently, a well
known hole In that hedge that gives a
glimpse of the world outside. At the mo
meat that Margie pushes her head through
the opening, a very charming lady, very
charmingly dressed, Is Just coining down
the sidewalk next the cottage. She Is
looking a little sad, a Mttle forlorn. Dis
appointment is written large upon her ex
pressive face, aad. Indeed, she lias tho
air of one who bad expected all things
aud found nothing.
She is now on her way back to the train
that had brought her here two hours ago,
so full of hope. Hope of finding some one
lost for many months, but always inex
pressibly dear. But all her inquiries In
the small village below bad led to nothing
but the knowledge that she had been hope
lessly misinformed, when told to search
for Margaret thece. The principal inhabit
ant bad suggested that another village a
few miles further ou as a place likely to
find her, but she had lost all heart 16
saemed impossible that if Margaret Del
awarr lived only a Tevr miles ofr they
should not have heard of her.
"Oh, no, no- It is quite plain that poor,
dear, headstrong Margaret is aaywhem
She is looking not only sad, this prettv
lady, as Margie peers at her through tha
hedge, but very tired. One can see she Is
unaccustomed to long walks over rough
places, and, indeed, the lil, patent, high
heeled shoe she is wearing were never
maile to fight a country rood.
So dire is her distress of mind and body
that now. seeing a big stone upright by
the side of the hedge, she suddenly sinks
upon it. and with a heavy sigh, lets her
face fall into her hands.
Suddenly she becomes conscious, as we
all do, that some living thing is near her,
and looking up sees a little wondering.
beautiful face, staring at her through
the opening in the green hedge.
That face! She rises to feer feet. Good
heavens! It is madness, of course this
walk lias been to much for her. But yet
if that is not Margaret's child
"Is you siefcie?" sajs Margie, with one
thumb in her mouth.
"I am I am, my dear sick at heart."
says the pretty lady, tears welling into
"Margie give you a tlss,"sajs-the small
sympathizer, very sweetly. KIsse hava
often healed her mother's wounds.
"Is yur name Margie?" cries the tall
lady, with exekemeat. "Margie, don't
you remember me?
"No," says Margie.
"Margie, where is your mother? In
there? Will yon take me to Mer?"
"Mustn't turn on load," says Margie,
with a pious expression.
"But I can come to you." and in a n.o
ment the tall lady hasvopened the Iron gata
and has caught the child's hand and. run
ning up the SBaall avenue, has. as already
related, run almost into Sir John's arms.
"I beg your pardon." cries she. almo.se
breathlessly, "but 1 have come "sere to
find my cousin. Margaret Delawarr' Is
sl,e?Is she?" She stops, stammering.
Who is this man?
Blount legards her steadily. Margaret
had not called herself "Delawarr" to him.
"I think yoa WHlflml your cousin Mar
garet in there." snys he. poiutiug towards
the window of the leoin where he had last
seen Margaret, erotwhed upon a scfa, in
saddest, diiest grief. "I think if you were
to leave Margie with me "
But Margie had decided that question
long ago by flying to him aud thrusting
her hand into his.
Five minutes ten thirty! A year to
Sir John. What does it all mean, and
by what right is he staying, here.' Will
she resent his staying later on? And yet,
he stays; some strange inward sense tells
him that the coming nt this tall, strangu
woman means emancipation for Manraret.
And it so he-but if all difficulties t-ra
smoothed away, may she not prefer soma
one else? Oh, not He flings the thought
from him. She loves hint. She does lova
And now the tall young lady Is coming
toward him again. Her eyes show evi
dence of late U-ars, ami her manner is full
of a subdued Joy.
"I know all now," she says, very sweetly.
"And, indeed. I congratulate you. Sir
John. You know she Is my cousin, and
well, there are very few like her. I can
tell you. It was all mistake, that story."
"Then he " fiercely.
"No you must cot run away with
that. He married my cousin firmly be
lieving his first wife dead. Later on ho
wus told she was still living, and I think
I am sure from my knowledge ot him
that he believed that to be. Bat It was
not true all the same. I have indisputa
ble proof, ami," smiling, with tears In her
eyes, "I think Margaret wouhl like to
see you now. I think, ton. that this
tima I shall keep Margie with me."
It takes Blount? a very little time t
reach the room where Margaret is.
She is standing.
"I told you r should return," says he.nd
vancing toward her, his face pale, his arm
outstretched. In a moment she Is in them.
But It wa.1 certainly Margie who had ai
ranged it all.