OCR Interpretation


Helena weekly herald. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1867-1900, November 03, 1887, Image 1

Image and text provided by Montana Historical Society; Helena, MT

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn84036143/1887-11-03/ed-1/seq-1/

What is OCR?


Thumbnail for

O
Wmm
M W
?
Volume xxi.
Helena, Montana, Thursday, November 3, 1887.
No. 49
<fl|c til «Mjl l(j trahi.
R E. FISK D. W. FISK. A. J. FISK
FulAûhers nnd Proprietors.
Largest Circulation of any Paper in Montana
--O
Rates of Subscription.
WEEKLY °HERALD :
One Year. (In advance)............................. Î3 00
uf x Months, (In advance)............................... 1 75
Three Months, (in advance)........................... 1 00
When not paid for in advance the ra»e will be
Four Dollars per yeati
Postage, in all cases. Prepaid.
DAILY HERALD:
City Sutmcribers.delivered by carrier SI.00a month
One Year, by mail, (in advance)................. S'.) 00
Six Months, by mail, (in advance)............... 5 00
Three Months, by mail, (in advance)........... 2 50
If not paid in advance, 81Z per annum.
<*-All communications should be addressed to
KISK BKOS., Publishero,
Helena, Montana.
\ HI DE AWAKENING.
she had a face surpassing fair ;
All men admired her beauty rare—
And 1 ?
Well. 1 adored her, nothing less;
To be with her was happiness
Three ply.
Of course she knew ; she was not blind ;
She saw my plight, and she was kind
And good ;
For when 1 asked her if she'd wed
A chap like me, she blushed, and said
She would.
Oh. then the summer quickly Hew
Till the lime came to say adieu
» >ne night.
she promised when I went away
That every single blessed day
She'd write.
But her iirst letter drove me mad
Almost, with wild despair, for sad
To tell.
This lovely maid, for whom I yearned
So longingly, had never learne l
To spell.
NANCY.
Her head is full of fancies.
That pretty head of Nancy's,
Of olden time romances
-he breathes the very air;
Adown her dreams there dances
A vision that entrances
That tender heart of Nancy's
And takes it in a snare.
Adown her dream there prances
A charge of knights with lances.
All smitten with the glances
Of Nancy, I will swear;
The guerdon that she grants is
That little hand of Nancy's.
Tho'. in real life, the chace is
Her knight will have red hair.
BUFFALO BILL.
(By Lord Alfred Tennyson, as alleged.]
Thou long of hair, of stalwart form,
Whose true unerring aim ean throw
And hit the bounding buffalo
And quickly make it very warm
For him. O thou of bloody scenes,
Who clashed in battle's rudest shock
With the wild Indians of New York
And grizzly bears of New Orleans.
Who scalped the Sioux on Boston's plains,
And thro' wild Cincinnati's woods.
And Philadelphia's solitudes
Lifted the covering front their brains.
Still let the Brooklyn river flow.
The wild Ohio ocean beat;
Still let the shaggy bison fleet
Tread Pittsburg's forests to and fro;
But thou begirt by London scenes
Shalt ne'er return to wander more
Thro' the waste wilds of Baltimore,
Or the deep woods of New Orleans.
—Yankee Blade.
THE LAST LOVER.
Come thou, the last, best lover!
For life hath been a rover
From vision unto vision—the highest heart could
see.
I seek the truest lover!
No less than he can move her
Wh. 'sc human faith did perish of its constancy
Oh, come! thou Awful Lover!
Draw near, and close and cover
The trembling lips that ope not to any cry but
this:
Death is the dearest lover!
Death is the kindest lover!
Korean the breaking heart trust any troth but
his.
—Llizabeth Stuart Phelps in The Independent.
ITALIANS OF PHILADELPHIA.
llie Brief Childhood of Italian Boys and
tiirls Mho Swarm in the Quaker City.
At night half the population sleep out of
doors, either on the roof or on the pavement,
it is a very common sight to see a big, heavy
man stretched out at full length on the pave
taent asleep, with his head in his wife's lap,
lie trying to support him and sleep at the
same time, a rather difficult feat. Here it is
that death reaps its terrible harvest during
tbe hot season and little babies die like flies.
-Noone pays much attention'to death here; it
is too common. A baby more or less is
nothing. Sometimes a piece of muslin in
lieu of crajie is hung at the front door, but
oftener not. Far more frequently the only
sign of death is when the city's hired atten
dants come and take the body away to give
''hat the family cannot, decent burial.
Thenumberof children hereabouts is count
They swarm on every band and seem
m glv thrive where an American child would
(i*e. The childhood of an Italian boy or girl
'* short, however. The warm blood of their
face brings them to maturity at the age of 12
) r 13, and at 25 they are old nnd wrinkled,
llie pretty olive face of the little girl at the
r uit stand will ten years hence be horrible,
"* a Unie w hen her American sister is at the
^nith of her beauty. The gay bodice, short
5 «rt, neat hose and tbe wondrously colored
'«■chief on the head always make an Italian
" man interesting. Would the same could
^ saU of the men.
Many a modern enactment of Romeo and
ca, i be seen here in "Little Italy" and
® an T a tragedy occurs which never reaches
"6 tars of the authorities. Treacherous and
nning in the extreme, the slightest occur
j'-c aifords a pretext to draw the ever pres
Urk o° ant * Artist ii> i nt0 the offender's
• Rarely is the Italian courageous enough
iian q 1 another in fair combat. Like the In
Lut v ey liever forget nor forgive a wrong,
i '. ears after, perhaps, when the unsuspect
fair i ,im * ias a *i remembrance of theaf*
h«tr , in wa it for him and wreak out
asured vengeance.—Philadelphia Times.
u r TTWv .
Peril» of the Faith Cure.
_ ggar—Give me a nickel, sir!
Westrian—NY hy, ain't you the fellow who
a tin card hanging on your breast yester
. saving that you were blind?
, ggar— Er -yes, but I tried the faith cure
-Judge.
A MAN WITII A MEMORY.
CAPTURE OF A SUPPOSED SPY IN
SIDE THE FEDERAL LINES.
The Suspect Answers Every Question "as
Straight as a String"—Algebra in a
Root—ltepeating the Roll—Entrapped
at East.
Just before Sherman advanced on his
Georgia campaign a man suppose»] to be a
Confederate spy was one day aiTested in a
Union camp. He was in Federal uniform,
but bis look and language were unmistakably
southern. lie claimed to belong to a regi
ment in anotiier camp about two miles away,
and lie was sent to the guard house until Lis
assertion could be verified or disproved. It
was in tho camp of a Wisconsin regiment
that the spy, who gave liis name as George
Swift, was arrested. He had come there os
tensibly to visit friends, but some of the boys
had seen him slyly taking notes, and he had
asked such questions as no private Federal
soldier would have any use for. The boys
had no sooner got the idea that the stranger
was a spy than they gave information to me,
and I put him under arrest. I saw at a
glance that he was of southern birth. This
was not so much against him, for at that time
we had plenty of Tennessee and Kentucky
men with us.
"What command do you belong to?" I
asked.
"The-th Illinois," he replied.
I asketl what brigade and division, who was
his captain and various other things, and he
returned what seemed to be straight answers
to every question. When I asked who he
had come to visit in the Wisconsin regiment
be was lame. He mentioned the name of a
man no one had ever heard of. It was on
this point alone that I held him. A messen
ger was at once sent after the Illinois captain
named, and in about an Lour be appeared.
She supposed spy was taken to tlie tent of the
brigade general, and as soon as brought face
to face with the captain he salutetl and said:
"Capt. Morton, the people here seem to
think I am a rebel spy."
"And who are you?'' queried the captain,
plainly astonished.
"Do you ask that?" reproachfully inquired
the man. "Who should I be but George
Swift of your own company?"
"You can't be. I never saw you before in
my life."
"Why, Capt. Morton!"
(Hie two men looked at each other as if
doubting their own senses, and the general
asked of Swift:
"How long have you been with his com
pany ?"
"Four months, sir. I came down as a re
cruit from Pekin."
"Who is your orderly sergeant?"
"Sergt. White, sir."
"Who are your commissioned officers?"
"Capt. Morton. First Lieut. Green, and
Lieut. Davis. The latter is home on fur
lough."
"How many men in the company?"
"Fifty-eight, sir."
"Who are your tent mates?"
"Oscar Jackson, Thomas Parker, and John
Pridgeon."
"Well, captain?" queried the general, as he
turned to Capt. Morton.
The captain was clean beat. He was dead
sure that no such man belonged to his com
pany, and yet the suspect had answered every
question as straight as a string.
"I'll stake my life that I never saw this man
before," the captain finally answered, "and I
know every man in my company by name."
The spy was ordered to strip to his shirt, and
for the first time his coolness seemed to desert
bim. He reproached the captain for per
mitting this indignity, but slowly disrobed.
In one of his boot legs was a pocket, and in
this pocket w e found a paper bearing figures
as follows:
A. ...Id— 27
I....." ,...9,noo
C.... " ....1,900
There were four or live sets of these memo
randa, running from "Id." to "4d." When
asked to explain the meaning of them, he said
they were some old examples in algebra be
bad been working out with the boys. In a
few minutes we were satisfied that the paper
read: "Artillery in first division, twenty-seven
pieces." The "I" stood for infantry, and the
"C" for cavalry. We were satisfied, and yet
we were not, for as soon as we made it out
the way I have given it to you, Swift said:
"General, Capt. Morton does not seem to
be a good band to remember faces. Will you
please send for the orderly sergeant and my
tent mates? If I can't show by them that I
have been with Company G four months you
can order me hung as a spy."
The cool proposition staggered the general.
Had we discovered the paper in the man's
pocket instead of his boots he would have been
allowed to walk off. That discovery looked
suspicious, and he was ordered back to the
guard house and the persons sent for. Two
hours later be was confronted with the orderly
sergeant.
"Sergeant, do you know this man?' asked
the general.
"No, sir."
"Isn't he a member of your company?'
"No, sir."
Swift actually grinned as if it were a good
joke, and saiil:
"Perhaps I have changed skins with some
body since I came ont of camp this morning.
Sergt. White, your given name is Thomas.
You came from Chicago. You have been
twice wounded. Your father was down to
6ee you last week. You get love letters from
your girl in Galesburg, You are 32 years
old. Y ou have a brother Ben in Company E.
Hear me call the roll of our company: All
bright, Allison, Andrews, Arkwright, Bernent,
Beamer, Bostwick, Carter, Corliss, Collins,
Costigan, Cummerford"
And the man rattled off forty or fifty
names as fast as he could speak, aud be got
them all correct, too. The sergeant looked
from his captain to the prisoner, and then
pinched himself to see if he was awake or
asleep.
"I—I never saw him before," he finally
stammered, "but he must belong to the com
pany."
"Well, take him back to camp with you,
sergeant," observed tbe general. "Hold on,
though, didn't we send for his tent mates?'
"They are here, sir."
"Well, we'll see if they recognize him."
The three men were brought in, and inside
of five minutes Swift was a doomed man. He
bad come into camp four or five days pre
vious, claiming to be looking for a friend,
and had bribed the boys to let him into the
tent He made his excursions through the
division from this point He must have been
a man with a wonderful memory, and he had
gained oceans of information, without
ine to pump anybody. He tried to brave it
out against the three men, but other members
of the company were sent tor, and his nerve
at last gave way. A corn t martial was con
vened, and four »lays after his capture Swift
was hung. While he died game and would
admit nothing, it was satisfactorily settled
that he came from Johnson's army, and that
be was old in the business. I was at the
foot of the gallows as he mounted it, anti
when the noose was put over his head I
heard him say :
"Gentlemen, it's a d—d fine morning to
start ou Ruch a journey as mine!"—New York
Bun.
Th« Rritish Tar's Watches.
All thî world knows that a crew is »livided
.nto halves in order to take the ship's work in
turn, the starboard watch being distinguished
by a ml stripe on the right shoulder, the port
by a stripe on the left. And it is known that
a sailor divides his time into four hour spells
from midnight to noon, and into a four hour
spell, two two hour spells and a four hour
spell from noon to midnight, the said dog
watches—curtailed watches, in fact—being
from 4 to 0 and 6 to 8, and serving to divide
the twenty-four hours into an unequal num
ber of parts, and thus bring the same men on
duty during the same hours only on alternate
nights. And there is no mystery about
"bells,' and we Lave shore clocks striking
bells, one for every half hour in the watch,
"eight bells" going at noon, midnight, 8
o'clock and 4 o'clock.
But it may not perhaps be generally known
that every seaman has a number, and that all
odd numbers belong to the starboard watch;
when hammocks are slung at night they are
in numerical order, beginning at the bow and
running athwart the ship, so that when a
watch is on deck every other hammock is
empty; that when all hands are called the
starboanl watch work the starboard side of
the ship, the port watch the port side, and
that when one watch only is on deck its two
divisions take the opposite sides. And it is
certainly not a matter of common knowledge
that on a man of war the calls, military and
disciplinary, are nearly all given by bugle,
and that there are forty-four of such calls,
the pipe being almost entirely confined to sea
manship matters, and the drum that used to
"beat to quarters" having sunk in most ships
to merely "clear up the main deck."—New
York Graphic.
How Brokers Work.
It is a matter of surprise to me how faith
fully these men work throughout tho jear.
The average man is inclined to believe that
they live a sort of butterfly, happy go lucky
life, in which probably they go to their offices
once in a while just to kill time. But such is
far from the ease. They have, I believe, les#
holidays than most men. And their clerks, at
least those in an active, thriving broker's
office, have to Lave their wits about them and
to keep them employed often into the late
hours of the night.
Not long ago it was Labor day in New
York. It was not a misnamed »lay for one,
and that one was Russell Sage. A New York
paper stated next »lay that tliis several times
millionaire had spent the day pouring over
his books and ledgers. It is seliloin that big
men in the New York stock market go away
for more than a day at a time. Telegrams
are flying ever}' day in the year in which
some action of these leaders is referred to.
Barring the outing which he gets in going to
and from his home in his yacht, Jay Gould
doubtless has less real leisure throughout the
year than the humblest clerk in bis employ.—
Philadelphia Call.
Caught in the Act.
A certain professional man in Orlando,
Fla., has a scheme which might be adopted
by every one who pays his street tax. When
a collector called on him the other day with
a bill he was requested to stand still a mo
ment, and in the meantime an assistant of
the aforesaid p. m. had succeeded in taking a
photograph of the pair in the act of paying
tbe bill and giving a receipt. The scheme
works to perfection anil lie is never troubled
a second time.—Chicago News.
Sheridan Against Annexation.
Gen. George H. Sheridan "of Louisiana" is
almost as much of a public character as Gen.
Phil Sheridan, for whom he is often mis
taken, liera use they have the same name and
military title. Gen. George Sheridan is noted
for his oratorical ability anil for bis wit.
Talking about Canada tbe other day, he said,
"I'm dead against annexation until I get too
old to steal."— Judge,
Shylocks and Water Color Painters.
"If you want to see real poverty," said a
portrait painter of Union squaie, "just hunt
up some of the artists in town who are fill
ing orders for the new craze in water colors
from tho dealers. Oil paintings are now
tabooed, you know, among the swells. That
is, you can't have them in your parlor or
drawing room, but it's right to hang them in
your hall or library if you choose. Water
colors are decreed to be the sympathetic
twins of the lavender, light blue and pale
tints that are reigning in decorations. There's
been a fair demand for 'bese all summer.
The other day I climbed to the miserable at
tic studio of an old artist, whose water color
work had attracted my attention as being far
above tho average. It was really fine. He
was engaged on the finishing touches of a
charming little landscape.
'"What do the dealers pay you for this?
said I.
" 'Three dollars, possibly five, and I may
manage, with hard work, to finish two of
them in a week.'
" 'And what do the dealers charge their
customers?'
" 'All the way from $40 to $G0, and they get
it, too, without any trouble. That's the way
we're in the hands of these Shylocks. But
we're too poor to combine against them, for
we Deed the paltry pittance all the time for
room rent and a bite to eat. I can tell you
there are droves of talented artists in this
town who don't experience the sensation of
one square meal a week.' "—New York Even
ing Sun. _
A Difference In the Cost.
The business manager of The New York
Sun, W. M. Laffan, is a lover of artistic pot
tery, of which he has a large and fine collec
tion in his house in Lexington avenue. He
had Gillam, the cartoonist, up there todinner
recently, and the artist inspected the pottery
with great curiosity. Mr. Laffan showed
him two vases of about the same size—one a
delicately tinted blue and the other a finely
tinted red. When Gillam had ceased his in
spection of the two vases, Mr. Laffan asked
•which he thought was the finer. The artist
indicated the red one as his choice, but added
deprecatingly that he knew very little about
such things. "Humph," was the collector's
disgusted reply as he set the vases away. "It
is very evident that you don't know about
such things. That vase cost me $16, while
the blue one cost $1,500."—New York Tribuna
k Making Him Brave.
Mother"<anxiously)—I'm afraid you are
giving the baby too much sugar, James.
Father—Not at all, my dear. I want him
to be full of grit.—Boston Courier.
THE OLD LOG CABIN.
A HOOSIER PIONEER DESCRIBES
THE OLD HOME.
A House Ruilt Without Rrick, Nail,
Plunk. Blass or Shingle—The Internal
Pitting Up Roth Economical and In
genious-Only One Room.
The ordinary log cabin was about eighteen
feet square. In rare cases it contained more
than one room, as a general rule but one. It
was built of round logs or poles, sometimes,
though not often, dressed off a little after its
erection. It was one story high, covered with
clapboards about four feet long, split out of
oak timber, which, instead of being nailed
down, were kept in tbeir places by heavy
pieces of timber called "weight poles," which
were kept at suitable distances apart by the
use of small sticks of woo»l called "knees."
The boards rested on logs extending from one
end of the building to the other, each one
ascendiug higher than its predecessor, as the
gable went up, thus giving to the roof the
right pitch. These were called "ribs," except
the one forming the apex of the roof, which
was called the "ridge pole." To prevent the
first tier of boards from sliding off, there was
placed on each side a split log for them to
rest against called tbe "butting pole." These
rested on the ends of logs projecting out from
the corners of the house, called "eaves
bearers."
When any floor other than that provided
by nature was used it was made of large
slabs split out of poplar or ash trees, and
dressed off on one side as smoothly as was
practicable with a broad ax. This was called
a "puncheon" floor, and was at first confined
to families of aristocratic Dretensions, but
gradually came into general use. There was
but one door, ti shutter to which was made
of clap boards anil bung on wooden hinges,
with a latch on the inside of the same ma
terial, to which was attached a leather string,
which, through a small aperture in the shut
ter, was made to hang invitingly on the out
side; the truest indication of genuine hos
pitality being the fact that "the latch tring
was out." Generally there was one window,
made by cutting out the upper and under
halves of two neighboring logs, and filling
the space made vacant with greased paper,
often such as had been written on at school.
The lower part of the chimney was built of
thick liewed pieces of timber, or heavy slabs,
lineil oi the inside with a thick coat of clay,
of which material the hearth was also made.
The upper part was built of small split p ; eces
of tinnier about the size of a common th,
and mortar made of clay and straw, tl in
side being smoothed off with the hands of the
builder so as to cover up the wooa as lar as
possible. It was a nice job to build one of
these chimneys, and the man who succeeded
well in it became a considerable man in the
community, and exceedingly popular with
the women, who were then as now bitterly
opposed to "smoky chimneys."
The openings between the logs were stopped
with small pieces of split timber called
"chinks," to which was added mortar made of
common elay, put on with the hands of the
workmen. No cabin was ever considered
finisheil until it was "chinked" and "daubed."
Not a brick, nail, plank, glass or shingle was
used in one of these early homes of our fore
fathers, and such a thing as paint or wall
paper was not dreamed of. The internal
fitting up was quite as economical and in
genious. On one side of the spacious fireplace,
just under the window I have described, was
set a small table, sometimes brought by the
family from their old home, but generally
made on the spot out of slabs and clapboards
attached to each other. A few shelves in the
opposite corner answered the purpose of a
cupboard in which to put away the "pewter"
ware. Near the door, perhaps at the side of
the window, was suspended over a piece of
paper pasted on the wall a very useful and
ingenious contrivance pronounced "huzzeff,"
in which were stuck the pins anil needles of
the family, and in the capacious pockets of
which the entire family of combs, big and
little, coarse and fine, together with an end
less variety of other small "traps," were de
posited. Above this, in exceptional cases
where the parties were rich, a small looking
glass was perched.
In most cases there were three beils in the
room, in which there was no partition, one in
each corner with its feet toward the fireplace,
and one placed crosswise between them. On
the wall behind the beds was bung the entire
wearing apparel of the family, from the old
est to the youngest, including that of the
daughters whose claim to the favor of the
young gentlemen depended on the extent of
their wardrobe, as well as the spun wool, flax
and tow of which they could boast, all of
which, suspended from the joists above, their
Judicious mothers proudly exhibited to the ad
miring gaze of their suitors as so many evi
dences of their matrimonial fitness. These
were sensible mothers. Of course their
daughters did not remain long in the market.
To use a commercial phrase, "they were
taken."
Just over the door rested the much needed
rifle; and on a rack suspended from the joists
in front of the fireplace were hung up to dry
any quantity of Yankee pumpkins, cut out
in rings, resembling miniature wagon wheels
without hubs or spokes. In the "loft," as it
was ealle»i, were stored away the sage and
catnip of the women and the hickory nuts
ami walnuts of the junior Hoosiers. On the out
side wail were stretched the skins of divers
"varmint«," and in the chimney corner,
under a few projecting boards, the plow and
gear were laid away to rest. Though this
description is believed to be a fair one of this
class of pioneer homes throughout the west,
it is taken from one erected by my parents
near Centerville, in Wayne county, in which
they spent the morning of their married lives,
and in which I was born. God bless the dear
old place! The log cabin was an unpreten
tious home. It was the best, however, the
pioneer at the time could command, and he
was content. It was no place for the exhibi
tion of pride or style. Neither was rated
verv high in these early homes of our ances
tors. Combining the parlor, sitting room,
bed room, dining room and kitchen in one
room, it was sufficient for all purposes. If a
neighbor family was to be entertained there
was ample room, and all were made welcome.
If there was to be a log rolling or com husk
ing, the whole neighborhood turned out, in
cluding the women, who went to help cook,
and the room was ample. If there was to be
a wool picking or quilting, to which the men
were sometimes invited, especially tbe young
and unmarried ones, the room was abundant
and everything was lovely.—Judge J. B.
Julian at Boone County (Ind.) Old Settlers
Meeting. __
TThen an Englishman "gets left" he is said
to bo "in the cart."
WOMAN AND HOME.
WHAT TO PUT UP FOR SCHOOL
CHILDREN'S LUNCHEONS.
Cosmetics—To Make Pumpkin Pies— Com
pany at tlie Eleventh Hour—Summer
Hoarders — Clothes That Kill—Stoop
Shoulders—Household Hints and Helps.
Now that schools are about opening it is
timely to call attention to that most impor
tant meal which, in the majority of house
holds, receives but slight consideration—tho
school children's luncheons. The old adage
reads that "school is a hungry place." At
noon time healthy children are always fam
ished, and the midday meal with them should
invariably lie a hearty one.
The households where the luncheons to be
put up for scholars are considered the day
before, and nice preparations are made that
these shall be tempting and delicious, are in
the minority.
It is the custom of some parents to give
their children money to buy luncheon instead
of taking the pains to plan and prepare it.
The money is generally expended for what
the school child calls goodies—cream cakes,
pickled limes or caramels.
The noon meal oarrief to school should be
one of personal supervision by the housewife.
In the first place, a tin lunch box that can be
daily scalded and aired should be provided,
and not a basket that soon becomes impreg
nated with food odors. A luncheon cannot
be put in a pocket or sachel without being
spoiled, or frequently broken into a conglom
eration anything but appetizing. When the
child opens its luncheon, if it is a surprise of
good things the fact of its having been re
membered and catered to adds a relish.
Sandwiches made of ham, tongue, salt and
highly seasoned meats are not desirable, for
they occasion thirst, which is inconvenient
during tbe school session. Chicken, turkey,
bard boiled eggs or any fresh tender meat
make toothsome sandwiches. English bread
and butter sandwiches spread with cream
cheese are well liked. Boston or other brown
bread spread with jelly is a dessert more
wholesome than pastry.
The layer in the sandwich center is more
easily eaten and ean be more neatly intro
duced if chopped.
A delicious brown bread for sandwiches or
to serve with oysters is made as follows: In a
large yellow bowl scald one quart of yellow
Indian meal. This is done liy covering the
meal with boiling water sufficient to moisten
it thoroughly and then allowing it to cool
until tepid. Mix with it one cup of rye meal,
one teacupful of yeast, three-quarters of a
cup of molasses, a little salt and enough tepid
water to make a thin paste. Stir all together
and turn into a buttered baking pan. Cover
with a cloth and let rise in a warm place.
"When the top liegins to crack open place in a
moderate oven and bake four hours. This
Ehould be tw elve hours old when cut for sand
wiches.
One of the best luncheon relishes is celery.
It should be dusted with salt and rolled in
wax paper, after sprinkling with water. It is
very wholesome, refreshing and a nervine.
Waxed paper is indispensable for putting up
the luncheon. Sandwiches, pickles, radishes,
cake, are perfectly protected when covered
with it. Japanese paper napkins are service
able and agreeable for the school luncheon,
for they take up but little room and may be
thrown away after using. These and the wax
paper cost but a trifling sum if purchased in
quantity.
The luncheon should be varied daily. Meat
bread is a good substitute for sandwiches.
Make a ferment of yeast and water and pro
ceed as for ordinary bread. Incorporate
thoroughly two pounds of flour and one of
clear beef, chopped very fine and sprinkled
with salt. During the making and baking
process the meat disappears entirely, but the
nutritive principles remain in the loaf.
A luncheon cake, not too rich for health,
but sufficiently so to be tempting, may be
made with half pound of butter, half pound
of sugar, three-quarters pound of flour, five
eggs aud one gill of wine, and cinnamon, nut
meg and extract of rose. Bake in papered
shallow pans. This cake is much improved
by icing. A luncheon ginger bread, liked by
young folks, is made by using one and a half
pounds of flour, quarter pound butter, one
pound of molasses, quarter pound of brown
sugar, three eggs, quarter of a pint of warm
milk, one ounce of ginger, half ounce of all
spice and one teaspoonful of soda. Just be
fore this is done, brush the top of the cake
•with the yolk of an egg beaten into a half
cup of milk, return to the oven and finish
baking. —'-•—- -~
A raised raisin cake is one of the best for
tho luncheon. Two pounds of flour, half
pound sugar, half pound butter, six eggs,
three-fourths of a pint of water, one pound
of seeded raisins, the juice and grated rind
one lemon, one gill of yeast. Set a sponge
with a portion of the flour, the yeast and the
water, letting it stand three hours. Add the
other ingredients, melting the butter and
heating separately the yolks and whites of
the eggs. Before making into a dough with
the flour, let it rise again one hour. Then
mold into pans and bake slowly. When
done and cool, sift heavily over the loaf
powdered sugar.—New York Evening Sun.
Cosmetics and Complexion.
If it were only a question of money wasted
and folly enlightened, it would not be worth
while to preach upon this text, perhaps. But
probably nine out of every ten of the cos
metics in market are positively harmful.
White lead, bismuth, arsenic and other power
ful poisons are tbe usual base. They impart
for a time an artificial bloom, always fol
lowed by a darkening and coarsening of the
grain of the skin. The habitual use of arsenic
in pills, wafers or solution results in a dis
turbance of the circulation, a weakened action
of the heart, and not seldom in paralysis.
The Egyptian and Roman ladies, who were
so famous for their beauty of complexion, are
said, indeed, to have used pastes and unguents
and medicated baths. But it is probable that
their cosmetics were of the simplest, the equiv
alent of our harmless rosewater and glycerine
for the soothing of an irritated surface or the
whitening of the hands. It is certain that the
efficacy of the baths lay in their frequency
and '.horougliness. To an Egyptian princess
or I toman noble's wife we moderns, with our
morning's hasty dip into a tub of tepid water,
would rank with the great unwashed. From
the scalding and rinsing and scraping and
rubbing aud kneading and oiling that their
bathing involved, they came forth with skins
of velvet, because every atom of waste was
removed and every organ in tho body was
maintained at its full eliminative power.
They changed their body linen every day as
well, aud by this scrupulous cleanliness offset
in some degree their sins against the stomach.
Among moderns, English women, as a rule,
-ossess in vouth and keep till age the finest
complexions. ThCîr climate is kind to them.
Its perjietual moisture seems to keep them in
perjietual bloom, as it does their wonderful
roses. But besides their climate, their cus
toms favor them. English girls are kept in
the nursery or the school room, free from the
excitement of late hours, rich food, adult so
ciety. fashionable dress or liabits till their
constitutions are established and their phy
sique developed. The simple food, daily
* .nu oturrer?, tm root or on
horseback, and uneventful life, give them
sound stomachs, hearty livers and tranquil
nerves, and the beautiful coloring is a matter
of course.—Harper's Bazar.
To Make Bumpkin I'ies.
I was reading not long ago a "recipe for
making a very rich pumpkin pie." It called
for a pound of butter, a quart of rich, sweet
milk, ten or twelve eggs, to a quart of sifted
pumpkin. Rather expensive luxuries for
moderate livers. Now, within the memory of
the "oldest inhabitant," that venerable indi
vidual of which every neighborhood has its
one or two, the mother of whom, perhaps,
made her pumpkin pie3 after this method:
Sift Indian meal on a pie dish to the depth of
a third of an inch or so, the measure not
always accurate. Stew th» pumpkin, spread
on the mealed dish and hake an hour in a
brick oven or one before the fire. Fire places
were much in vogue in those days. That in
habitant ate of pumpkin pies from September
until Christmas, was hearty, healthy and
well. He feasted, lairly fatted, on tlie
round, yellow pumpkin und home grown corn
meal. Methinks the newspapers of 1776 ami
1S00 contained few patent medicine cures for
the liver. The children of those far gone
days lived on "kettle loaf" and "bean por
ridge." Hens were of the breed that did not
lay much, and all the butter was in the "old
cow's horn."
The wife of this "old inhabitant" concocted
her pumpkin pie after this method: "Pare
and stew the pumpkin; strain through a col
ander, thinning with milk until the consis
tency of thick cream, add salt, molasses
enough to sweeten to taste, a tablespoon of
ginger, a few pulverized cloves and an egg to
each pie; or a tablespoonful of flour rubbed
to a smooth paste and stirred through. For
Thanksgiving or extra occasions a few raisins,
previously stewed, were dropped around in
each pie. Bake on a paste in a cool oven an
hour ami a half. Pie paste was made by rub
' " ■ teacuDful of shortening through a
quart of flour, wet with a cup of milk or wa
ter. This quantity will make four pumpkin
pies and two of apple or any kind of pie that
has an upper and under crust."—Cor. Detroit
Free Press.
Company at the Eleventh Hour.
We think it a great help to keep stored in
our pantry a quantity of prepared flour,
ready for the quick making of cake, dough
nuts, fritters or biscuit, should company un
expectedly arrive near the meal hour, or, we,
at the last moment, be requested to furnish a
tempting loaf of cake or plate of crullers for
some entertainment.
Against such emergencies we weigh into an
empty, clean barrel, twenty-five pounds of
the best flour we can obtain, and sift into it
one package of Horsford's bread preparation.
Next, we take a long bandied spoon and
stir tbe flour till the preparation is thoroughly
whisked among the flour. Then we twice sift
the contents of the barrel and pack away
from air and dust as closely as possible.
When oakè is wanted, or we are in imme
diate need of "company" biscuit, white and
feathery, we have only to measure cream and
sugar, whisk up our eggs, and pop in spices
and fruit; or, to simply measure sweet milk,
if biscuit, only, are wanted, aud add flour till
the dough is of the right texture. Since the
introduction of this prepared flour in our
pantry, we have our cakes stirred and beauti
fully baking in the same time that would re
quire us, in the old way, to measure and free
of lumps, cream of tartar, or acid and soda
and measure and sift every individual cup of
flour.—Clarissa Potter in Good Housekeeping.
Summer Hoarders as Missionaries.
The accident that sent out the first summer
boarder was a seed falling on quick soil.
There was a struggle in the beginning to meet
the wants of the urbans; there was a decided
hostility toward the fussy beings who would
not drink from wells near which backdoor
slops and sink spouts dribbled, who objected
to flies, who did not like meat fried, who
wanted air, who could find pleasure in traps
ing through woods and meadows and bring
ing home green truck. But hostility or not,
the thing meant new gowns, a term at tbe
academy, another cow, an improved team, a
mortgage lifted, attainment of the impossible.
And year by year the summer boarder came,
and with the money to spare from one the
house was painted for another; and with re
sulting funds the fences were reorganized
and the porches came. It wa9 she who, hav
ing suggested the piazza, suggested the vines
for it; and so much done, the girls of the
house kept pace with a flower garden of
their own.
And with the summer boarder came books
and magazines, and pleasant babits of talk,
sometimes music, usually gentle manners.
Occasionally one of the girls was invited for
a glimpse of the city, bringing home matter
for marvel ; and the end of it all was corrected
habits, corrected grammar, widened views,
homes transformed from ignorant dreariness
to neat attractiveness, libraries, pianos, grace
of furnishing, and country folk on a level
with city folk. Of course there were always
country folk who dwelt on the highest level
that there is; but to those who did not the
summer boarder has been a city missionary.—
Harper's Bazar.
To Straighten Stoop Shoulders.
Some time ago I noticed that some one
wanted to know what would tend to
straighten a stoop shouldered girl.
The following movements, performed with
one pound wooden dumb bells, or as free
hand movements, will be found very benefi
cial if persevered in. The best time is upon
rising and retiring, as the body should not be
bound in any way by the clothing:
1. Arms extended horizontally in front,
with palms facing, hands clenched. Hold
the head erect and the chest out. Then draw
the hands in strongly, tho elbows passing
close to the body and as far back as possible.
2. Same position except that tbe hands are
open. Swing the hands back to the side hori
zontal position—as far back as possible.
3. Hands hanging in their natural position
at the sides. Raise the arms slowly, side
wise, until the backs of tbe hands touch above
the head, keeping them as far back as possible.
Of course as erect a position as jiossible
must be maintained at all times, or the spe
ial training will do no good. Do not be dis
couraged, for you have been getting that
stooped back for years, and you mustn't ex
pect to straighten all of a sudden.
Above all things don't wear shoulder
braces. They strengthen the muscles of the
chest by the continual resistance, while tbe
back muscles are not called into action.—
Mrs. A. R. C. in Detroit Free Press.
GEN. BUTLER'S ADVICE.
A FEW FINANCIAL RULES FOR A
YOUNG MAN TO FOLLOW.
Nothing so Safe for an Investment as
Improved lirai Estât»"— A Hit of the
General's Experience—Marry a Pru
dent, Saving Girl.
I think that more young men fail in the in
vestment of what they earn or receive than
in any other way to acquire property. The
temptations to speculation are so great, and
the desire to become suddenly rich so strong,
that I believe eight out of ten, if not more, of
young men are wrecked at the very begin
ning.
When a young man lias a very little money
let him buy some property, preferably a
piece, however small, according to his means,
of improved real estate that is paying rent.
He had better buy it when sold at auction,
under a judicial sale, paying in cash vt hat he
can, giving his notes for the balance in small
sums coining due at frequently recurring in
tervals, secured by a mortgage on the prop
erty, and then use all his extra income in
paying up those notes. It is always safe to
discount vom® own note, and if the notes
come a little too fast, as soon as he gets any
thing paid his friends will aid him when
he is putting h;s money where it can
not be lost, and wuere tbe property is taking
care of the interest, and in a very short time
he will find that he has got a very consider
able investment. He will become interested
in it, save his money to meet his notes, and
he will directl}' come into a considerable pos
session of property, and hardly know how it
came to him. That is, he will have had a
motive for saving, and will get the result of
that saving, and will not tie tempted to enter
into speculations.
A SAFE INVESTMENT.
Nothing is so safe for an investment as im
proved real estate. Nothing is likely to grow
in value faster. In the last fifty years 90 per
cent, of all tlie merchants and traders in
Boston have failed. In the last fifty years 90
per cent, of all the business corporations have
failed or gone out of business, so that their
stock has been wiped out. In the last fifty
years all the improved real estate, on the
average, has paid its interest and taxes and
quadrupled in value. If a young man's father
Can give him anything to start him in the
world, he had better invest it in that way
and let it accumulate, and earn his living,
and he will be richer than if he had gone into
business. Jay Gould is said to have started
from a mouse trap seller to become a million
aire. Assuming that to be true, he is only
one of 60,000,000 of people, and if any young
man thinks that he is going to imitate Jay
Gould, there are 60,000,(XXI of chances to one
that he won't succeed.
The aile I would lây down for a young man
is never to do a mean thing for money. Be
prudent and saving of your money. Be care
ful to have no interest account running
against you unless you have an equal or
greater interest account running in your
favor. Work diligently and you are sure of
a competency in your old age, and as early as
possible, if you can fi r ,d a saving, prudent
girl who has been brought tip hy a mother
who knows how to take care of a house, make
a wife of her, and she will aid and not hinder
you.
A BIT OF EXPERIENCE.
I claim no originality in this advice, and
will relate you an incident in my own ex
perience to illustrate it: In my earliest prac
tice in my profession I was quite successful in
earning money, and I had a small balance in
the Lowell bank, at the head of which was
Mr. James G. Carney. The bank was directly
across the hall from my office. I stepped into
the bank to deposit a little money on one oc
casion, and Mr. Ca~ney said to me: "Why
don't you invest your money?" "Invest,"
said I; "I have nothing to invest." "Oh, yes,"
he says, "you have quite a little sum of
money, and I see that your young friends
come with your checks occasionally, evident
ly borrowing it. Now, you had better invest
it." "How can I iuvest it?" "Invest it in
real estate." "I know nothing about real
estate."
"Go to tbe first auction and buy tho
property. You cannot be much cheated in
that, because you will have to give very little
more than somebody else will be willing to
pay for it, save your money, collect your
fees, pay your notes« they become due. See
that the property is improved property, so
that the rent will keep down your interest ac
c#unt, and when you get any other money in
vest it in the same way, and if your notes
press upon you a little faster than you can pay
them, why, we will, when we find that is what
you are doing with your money, discount your
note and give you a little more time,so that you
can pay it up. This will necessitate the prompt
collection of your bills, for I know that you
would rather work and earn $100 than dun a
man for it, unless you have a pressing need
for it. You have not even asked for a little
bill that we owe you in the bank, which
shows me that you do not promptly collect
your dues." I followed tbe advice and
bought a number of pieces of property in
Lowell that came to me in that way. I can
only say that I wish I had been wise enough
to have continued this course through life.
I do not think I need to extend these sug
gestions any further, because if a young man
won't mind these he won't any others, and I
cannot suggest any better ones.—Benjamin
F. Butler in New York Sun.
Always Shave Yourself.
Senator Ingalls, while on his way to Phila
delphia to take a prominent part in the cele
bration of the constitution's centennial was
seen by a reporter, to whom, in reply to a
question as to the object of his visit, he de
livered a learned disquisition on shaving.
Said the president pro tern, of the United
States senate:
"I think a man looks better when he is
shaved. Every man should shave. You
should shave, and you should not go
to a barber's shop, hut shave yourself.
No gentleman should go to a barber's shop.
It is a great waste of time and money. It
costs fifteen cents—doesn't it?—every time
you get a tBirber to shave you, and then there
is a community of soap cups and brushes
which is repugnant to men of individuality.
I always shave myself. As part of one's
regular toilet every morning it does not take
much time, and instead of fifteen cents it
doesn't cost more than a cent. Then there is
that happy sense of ha' ing acted like a
gentleman when it is over. Take my advice
—shave, and shave yourself."—New York
Evening Post Interview.
A young man on board a yacht
Said: "I am so awfully hacht,
I would like to take a beer,
But it makes me feel queer,
For I always do take »uch a lacht.'
-Ufa

xml | txt