Vernon County censor. [volume], December 14, 1910, Image 7

About Vernon County censor. [volume] (Viroqua, Wis.) 1865-1955

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SYNOPSIS.
At a private view of the Chmworth
personal estate, to be sold at auction, the
Chatworth ring, known as the Crew Idol,
mysteriously disappears. Harry Cresay,
who was present, describes the ring to
his fiancee. Flora Gilsey, and her chap
eron, Mrs. Clara Britton, as being like a
heathen god, with a beautiful sapphire
set in the head. Flora meets Mr. Kerr,
an Englishman, at the club. In dis
cussing the disappearance of the ring, the
exploits of an English thief, Farrell
Wand, are recalled. Flora has a fancy
that Harry and Kerr know something
about the mystery. Kerr tells Flora that
he has met Harry somewhere, but cannot
place him. $20,000 reward is offered for
the return of the ring. Harry admits to
Flora that he dislikes Kerr. Harry takes
Flora to a Chinese goldsmith's to buy an
engagement ring. An exquisite sapphire
set in a hoop of brass, is selected. Harry
urges her not to wear it until it is reset.
The possession of the ring seems to cast
a spell over Flora. She becomes uneasy
and apprehensive. Flora meets Kerr at a
box party. She is startled by the effect
on him when he gets a glimpse of the
sapphire. The possibility that the stone
is part of the Crew Idol causes Flora
much anxiety. Unseen, Flora discovers
Clara ransacking her dressing room.
Flora refuses to give or sell the stone to
Kerr, and suspects him of being the thief.
Flora's interest in Kerr increases. She
decides to return the ring to Harry, but
he tells her to keep it for a day or two.
Ella Builer tells Flora that Clara is set
ting her cap for her father. Judge Builer.
Flora believes Harry suspects Kerr.
CHAPTER XV.—(Continued.)
“But Judge Builer has already
vouched for that man,” she said quick
ly, "60 he must be all right.”
Kerr inclined his head to her with
a smile.
"Builer is easily taken in,” said
Harry calmly. Under the direct, the
insolent meaning of his look Flora
felt her face grow hot —her hands
cold. Harry could sit there taunting
this man. hitting him over another
man’s back, and Kerr could not resent
it He could only sit —his head a lit
tle canted forward —looking at Harry
with the traces of a dry smile upon
his lips.
She thought the next moment every
thing would be declared. She sprang
up, and. with an impulse for rescue,
went to the door of the smoking-room.
"Judge Builer,” she called.
There was a sudden cessation of
talk; a movement of forms dimly seen
In the thick blue element; and then
through wreaths of smoke, the judge’s
face dawned upon her like a sun
through fog.
“Well, well, Miss Flora,” he wanted
to know, “to what bad action of mine
do I owe this good fortune?”
She retreated, beckoning him to the
m'dlle of the room. “You owe it to
the bad action of another,” she said
gayly. "Your friends are being slan
dered.”
Harry made a movement as If he
would have slopped her, and the ex
pression of his face, In Its alarm, was
comic. But she paid no heed. She
laid her hand on Harry’s arm. “Mr.
Kerr is just about to accuse us of be
ing impostors,” she announced. She
had robbed the situation of its peril
by gayly turning it exactly Inside out.
The judge blinked, puzzled at this
extraordinary statement. Harry was
disconcerted; but Kerr showed au as
tonishment that amazed her—a con
cern that she could not understand.
He turned at her. Then he laughed
rather shakily as he turned to her
with a mock gallant bow.
"All women impose upon us, ma
dam And as for Mr. Cressy”—he
fixed Harry with a look—“I could not
accuse him of being an impostor since
we have met in the sacred limits of
St. James’.”
The two glances that crossed be
fore Flora’s watchful eyes were keen
as thrust and parry of rapiers. Harry
bowed stiffly.
“I believe, for a fact, we did not
meet, but I think I saw you there
once—at some embassy ball.”
The words rang, to Flora's ears, as
if they had been shouted from the
housetops. In the speaking pause that
followed there was audible an un
known hortatory voice from the smo
king room.
"I tell you it's a damn-fool way to
manage it! What's the good of twen
ty thousand dollars’ reward?” Flora
clutched nervously at the back of her
cha’.r. She seemed to see the danger
of discovery piling up above Kerr like
a mountain.
The judge chuckled. "You see what
you saved me from. They’ve been at
it hammer and tongs all the even
ing. Every man in town has his idea
on that subject.”
“For instance, what is that one?”
Kerr’s casual voice was in contrast to
his guarded eyes.
The judge looked pleased. “That
one? Why, that’s my own—was, at
least, half an hour ago. You see,
about that twenty-thousand-dollar
proposition—” They moved nearer to
him. They stood, the four, around the
red velvet-covered table, like people
waiting to be served. “The trouble is
right here,” said the judge emphasiz
ing with blunt forefinger. “The crook
has a pal. That's probable, isn't it?"
Harry nodded. Flora felt Kerr’s
eyes upon her, but she could not look
at him.
“And we see the thing is at a dead
lock, d~n’t we? Well now,” the judge
went on triumphantl., “we know if
any one person had the whole ring
it would be turned in by this time.
That is the weak spot in the reward
policy. They didn’t reckon on the
thing’s being split.”
“Split? No, really, do you think that
possible?” Kerr inquired, and Flora
caught a glimmer of irony in his
voice.
“Well, can you see one of the chaps
trusting the other with more than half
of it?” The judge was scornful. “And
a fellow needs a whole ring if he is
after a reward.” He rolled his head
waggishly. “Oh, T could have been a
crook myself!" he chuckled, but his
was the only smiling face in the
party.
For Kerr’s wa* pale, t''booled to a
rigid self-control i
COAST of CHANCE
And -Harry's was crimson and swol
len. as If with a sudden rush of blood.
His twitching hands, his sullen eyes,
responded to Judge Buller's last word
as if it had been an accusation.
“It makes me damned sick, the way
you fellows talk —as If it was the easi
est thing In the world to —” He broke
off. It was such a tone, loose, harsh
and uncontrolled, as made Flora
shrink.
As if he sensed that movement In
her, he turned ut>on her furiously.
"Well, are we going to stand here
all night?" He took her by the arm.
She felt as If he had struck her.
Builer was staring at him. but Kerr
had openea the- door through which
she had entered, and now, turning his
back upon Harry, silently motioned
her out.
She had a moment's fear that Har
ry's grasp, even then, wouldn't let
go. Indeed, for a moment he stood
clutching her, as if, now that his rage
had spent itself, she was the one
thing he could hold to. Tb*n she felt
his fingers loosen. He stood there
alone, looking, with his great bulk,
and his great strength, and his
abashed bewilderment, rather pa
thetic.
But that aspect reached her dimly,
for the fear of him was uppermost.
Her arm still burned where he had
grasped it. She moved away from
him toward the door Kerr had opened
for her. She passed from the light
of the crimson room into the dark of
the passage. Someone followed her
and closed the door. Someone caught
step with her. It was Kerr. He bent
his dark head to speak low.
“I don't know yhy you did it, you
quixotic child, but you must not ex
pose yourself in this way, for any rea
son whatsoever.”
The light of the crowded rooms
burst upon them again.
“Oh,* she turned to him beseech
ingly, “can’t you get me away?”
“Surely.” His manner was as If
nothing had happened. His smile was
reassuring. “I’ll call your carriage,
and find Mrs. Britton.”
When Flora came down from the
dressing-room she found Clara al
ready in the carriage, and Kerr mount
ing guard in the hall. As he hand
ed her In, Clara leaned forward.
“Where is Mr. Cressy?” she in
quired.
“He sent his apologies,” Kerr ex
plained. “He is not able to get away
just now.”
Flora lay back In the carriage. She
was dimly aware of Clara's presence
beside for the moment Clara
had ceased to be a factor. The shape
that filled all the foreground of her
thought was Harry. He loomed alarm
ing to her imagination—all the more
so since, for the moment, he had
seemed to lose his grip. That was
another thing she could not quite un
derstand. That burst of violent irri
tation following, as it had, Judge Bul
ler’s words! If Kerr had been the
speaker It would have been natural
enough, since all through this inter
view Harry's evident antagonism had
seemed strained to the snapping
point.
But poor Judge Builer had been
harmless enough. He had been mere
ly theorizing. But —wait! She made
so sharp a movement that Clara
looked at her. The judge's theory
might be close to acts that Harry
was cognizant of.
For herself she had had no way of
finding out how the sapphire had got
adrift. But hadn't Harry? Hadn’t he
followed up that singular scene with
the blue-eyed Chinaman by other
visits to the goldsmith's shop? Why,
yesterday, when he vas supposed to
be in Byryngame, Clara had seen him
ir Chinatown. The idea burst upon
then. Harry was after the whole
ring. He counted the part she held
already his, and for the rest he was
groping in Chinatown; he was trying
to reach it through the imperturbable
little goldsmith. But he had not
reached it yet—and she could read his
irritation at his failure in his violent
outburst when Judge Buller so inno
cently flung the difficulties In his face.
She knew as much now as she could
bear. If Harry did not suspect Kerr,
it would be strange. But —Harry wait
ing to make sure of a reward before
he urtmaskou a thief! It was an ugiy
thought!
And would he wait for the rest now
—now that the situation was so gall
ing to him? Might not he just de
cide to take the sapphire, and with
the evidence of that, risk his putting
his hand on the “Idol” when he
grasped the thief?
The carriage was stopping. Clara
was making ready to get out. She
braced herself to face Clara in the
light with a casual exterior —but
when she had reached her own rooms
she sank in a heap in the chair before
her writing-table, and laid her head
upon the table between her arms.
In her wretchedness she found her
self turning to Kerr. Ho-v stoically
he had endured it all, though it must
have borne on him most heavily!
How kind he had been to her! He
had not even spoken of himself, though
he must have known the shadows
w ere closing over his head.
In the gray hours of the morning
she wrote him. She dared not put
the perils into words, but she im
plied them. She vaguely threatened;
and she implored him to go. avoiding
them all, herself more than any; and,
quaking at the possibility that he
might, after all, overcome her, she de
clared that before he went she.would
not see him again. She closed with
the forbidden statement that whether
he stayed or went, at the end of three
days she would make a sure disposal
of the ring. She put all this in reck
less black and white and sent it by
the hand of Shima. Then She waited.
She waited, in her little isolation,
with the sapphire always hung about
her neck, waited with what anticipa
tion of marvelous results —avowals,
idef.l farewells, or possibly some in
credible* transformation of the grim
face of the business And the answer
wi silent e.
“I Mean It, I Mean It," He Assured Her.
CHAPTER XVI.
The Heart of the Dilemma.
There is, in the heart of each gale
of events, a storm center of quiet.
It is the very deadlock of contending
forces, in which the Individual has
space for breath and appri.'.ension.
Into this lull Flora fell panting from
her last experience, more frightened
by the false calm than by the whirl
wind that had landed her there. Now
she had time to mark the echoes of
the storm about her, and to realize
her position.
From the middle of her calm she
saw many inexplicable appearances.
She saw them everywhere, from the
small round of Clara's movement to
the larger wheel of the public aspect
Clara was taking tea with the Bullers.
and the papers had Ceased to mention
the Crew Idol.
It had not even been a nine days'
wonder. It had not dwindled. It had
simply dropped from head lines to
nothing; and after the first murmur
of astonishments at this strange van
ishing, after a little vain conjecture as
to the reason of it, the subject dropped
out of the public mouth. The silence
was so sudden it was like a suppres
sion. To Flora it shadowed some
forces working so secretly, so surely,
that they had extinguished the light
of publicity. They must be going on
with concentrated and terrible ac
tivity in cycles, which perhaps had
not yet touched her.
So. seeing Maj. Purdie among the
crowd at someone's “afternoon” where
she was pouring tea, she looked up at
his cheerful face and high bald dome
with a passionate curiosity. He knew
why the press had been extinguished,
and what they were doing in the dark.
She knew where the sapphire was—
and where the culprit was to be found.
And to think that they could tell each
•otuer, if they would, each a tale the
cither would hardly dare believe.
Amazing appearances! How far away,
how foreign from the facts they cov
ered! But Maj. Purdie had the best
of it. He at least was doing his duty.
He was standing stiffly on one side,
while she hesitated between, trying
desperately to push Kerr out of sight
before she dared uncover the jewel.
But he wouldn't move, in spite of all
she had done, he wouldn’t.
Across the room that very after
noon she caught the twlDkle of his re
sisting smile. He had had her letter
then for two days, and still he had
come here, though he’d been bidden
to stay away; though he had been
warned to keep away from all places
where she, or these people around
her, might find him; though he had
been implored to go, finally, as far
away as the round surface of the
world would let him.
By what he had heard and seen In
the red room that night, be must
know her warning had not been ridic
ulous, And there was another threat
less apparent on the surfc.ee of things,
but evident enough to her. It was the
change in Clara after the had begun
her attack on the Bullers, her appear
ance of being busy vrlth something,
absorbed with. Intent upon, something,
which, if she had ret secured it yet.
at least she had veil in reach. And
that thing—suppose it had to do with
the Crew Idol; and suppose Clara
should play into Harry's hands!
For Kerr’s escape Flora had been
holding the ring, fighting off events,
and yet all the while she had not
wanted to lose the sight of him. Weil,
now. when she had made up her mind
finally to resign herself to the dreari
ness of that, might he not at least
have done his part of it and decently
disappeared? So much he might have
done for her.
He was playing her own trick on
her, but her chances for getting at
him again were fewer than his had
been with her. She could not besiege
him in his abode; and in the places
where they met, large houses crowded
with jeople. the eye of the world was
upon her. For how long had she for
gotten It—she who had been all her
life so deferential toward it! Even
now she remembered It only because
it interfered with what she wanted
to do.
For the eye of her small society
was very keenly upon Kerr. She re
alized. all at once, that he had be
come a personage; and then, by
smiles, by lifted eyebrows, by glances,
she gathered that her name was be
lng linked with his. Sue was aston
ished. How could their luncheon to
gether at the Purdies’, their words
that night In the opera box, their few
minutes’ talk In the shop, have crys
tallized into this gossip? It vexed her
—alarmed her, how it had got about
when she had seen him so seldom,
had known him scarcely more than
a week. It was simply in the air. It
was in her attitude and In his, but
how far it had gone she did not
dream, until in the dense crowd of some
cue’s at-home she caught the words
of a young girl. The voice was so
sweet and so prettily modulated that
at its first notes Flora turned invol
untarily to glimpse the speaker, a
slender creature In a delicate mist of
muslin, with an indeterminate chin
and the cheek of a pale peach.
“Just think," Flora heard her say
ing, "he went to see her three times
In two days, but to-day, did you no
tice, he wouldn’t look at her until she
went up and spoke to him. I don’t
see how a girl can! ” ury Cressy—”
She moved away and the words
were lost Flora looked after her. For
the moment she felt only scorn for
the creatures who had clapped that
Interpretation upon her great respon
sibility. These people around her
seemed poor indeed, absorbed only in
petty considerations, and seeing every
thing down the narrow vista of the
“correct.” Her eyes followed the
young girl's course through the room,
easy to trace by her shining blond
head, and the unusual deliclousness of
her muslin *gown. Sin stopped lie
side two women, and with a certain
sense of pleasure and embarrassment
Flora recognized one of them—Mrs.
Herrick. She caught the lady's eye
and bowed. Mrs. Herrick smiled,
with a gracious inclination in which
her graceful shoulders had a part.
It gave Flora the sense Mrs. Her
rick's presence always brought her,
of protection, of security, and the pos
sibility of friendship finer than she had
ever known. She started forward.
But Mrs. Herrick, presenting instantly
her profile, drew the young girl's
hand through her arm and moved
away.
Flora winced as If she had received
a blow. The other people who had
heard the same gossip of her had
been, on accou'.t of it, ail the more
amused and anxious to talk to her.
She felt herself judged—Judged
from the outside, it is true —but still
there was justice in it. She had been
flying in the face of custom, ignoring
common good behavior, in short,
sticking to her own convictions in de
fiance of the world’s. And she must
pay the penalty—the loss of the pos
sibility of such a friend.
But It was hard, she thought, to pay
the price without getting the thing
she had paid for. It was more like a
gamble In which she staked all on a
chance. And never had this chance
appeared more improbable to her than
now. For if Kerr valued the ring more
than he valued his safety, what argu
ment was left her?
CHAPTER XVII.
The Demigod.
On the third day she opened her
eyes to the sun with the thought:
Where lit he? Prom the windows of
her room she could see the two pale
point# ani the narrow way of water
that led into the western ocean. Had
be sailed out yonder west into the
east, into that oblivion which was
his onljr safety, for ever out of her
sight? Or wan he still at band. Ignor
ing warning, defying fate?
She drew out the sapphire and held j
it iD her hand. The cloud of evt-nis
had cast no film over Its luster, but
she looked at it now without pleasure.
For all Its beauty it wasn't worth
what they were doing for it. Well,
to-day they were both of them to see
the last of it. To-day she was going
to take it to Mr. Purdie. to deliver It
into his hands, to tell him how it had
fallen into hers in the goldsmith's shop
—all of the story that was possible for
her to tell.
She had made it out al! clear in her
mind that this was the right thing to
do. It hadn’t occurred to her she
had made ft out only 6n the hypothe
cs of Kerr's certainly going. It had
not occurred to her that she might
have to make her great moral move
in the dark; or, what was worse, in
the face of his most gallant resistance.
In this discouraging light she saw' her
intention dwindle to the vanishing
point, but the great move was just as
good as it had been before—just as sol
id. just as advisable. Being so very sol
id. wouldn't it wait untli .-he had time to
show him that she really neant wmt
she said, supposing she evt; had a
chance to see him again? The pos
sibility that at this moment he might
actually have gone had almost es
caped her. She recalled it with a dis
agreeable shock, but. after all, that
was the best she could hope, never to
see him again! She t ught to be grate
ful to be sure of tha , and yet if she
were. oh. never could she deprive him
of so much beauty and light by her
keeping of the sapphire as he would
then have taken away from her!
She would come down then, indeed,
level with plainest, palest, hardest
things—people and facts. Her ro
mance—she had seen it; sne had had
it in her hands, and it had somehow
eluded her. It had vanished, evapo
rated.
She leaned and looked through the
thin veil of her curtains at the splen
did day. It was one of February's
freaks. It was hot. The white ghost
of noon lay over shore and sea. Be
neath her the city seemed to sleep
gray and glistening. The tops of hills
that rose above the up-creeping
houses were misted green. Aerosa the
bay. along the northern shore, there
was a pale green coast of hills divid
ing blue and blue. Ships In the bay
hung out white canvas di/!“s, and the
sky showed whiter clouo alow-mov
ing. like sails upon a languid sea.
She looked down upon all, as lone
and lonely as a deserted lady in a
tower, lifted above these happy, peace
ful things by her strange responsibili
ty. Her thoughts could not stay with
them; her eyes traveled seaward. She
parted the curtains and, loaning a lit
tle out, looked westward at the white
sea gate.
A whistle, as of some child calling
his mate, came sweetly in the silence.
It was near, and the questing, expec
tant note caught her ear. Again it
came, sharper, imperative, directly be
neath her. She looked down; she
was speechless. There was a sudden
wild current of Mood in her veins.
There he stood, the whistler, neither
child nor bird, but the man himself
—Kerr, looking up at her from the gay
oval of her garden. She hung over
the window-sill. ’She looked directly
down upon him, foreshortened toaface,
and even with the distance und the
broad glare of noon between them
she recognized his aspect—his gayest,
of diabolic glee. There lurked about
him the impish quality of the whistle
that had summoned her.
"Come down," he called.
All sorts of wonders and terrors
were beating around her. He had
transcended her wildest wish; he had
come to her more openly, more dar
ingly, more romantically than she
could have dreamed. All the amaze
ment of why and how he had braved
the battery of the windows of her
house was swallowed up In the greater
joy of seeing him there, standing in
his “grays,” with stiff black hat
pushed off his hot forehead, hands be
hind him, looking up at her from the
middle of anemones and daffodils.
“Come down,” he called again, and
waved at her with his slim, glittering
stick. How far be had come since
their last encounter, to wave at and
command her, as If she were verily
his own! She left tho window, left
HAD CHOICE BETWEEN EVILS
Bachelor Could Not Save Rug and
Be in Time for *he Theater-
Still Has the Rug.
A theater party waited half an hour
the other evening for ore belated in
dividual, who arrived breathless and
profusely apologetic. Apologies en
tailed explana:. .as, and explanations
revealed some of the exigencies, as
well the humor, of bachelor make
shifts.
In this case the gentleman who was
tardy found It Imperative to econo
mize space. Necessity made his
opera hat share a closet shelf with
the Tarragon vinegar and the olive
oil used at cccaslonai evening spreads
One couli multiply proverbs in tell
ing the tale, for in his haste to be on
time the vinegar and the oil came
down unexpectedly with the opera hat.
and deposited their contents upon his
latest acquisition, the Shervan rug
he had Just treated himself to.
It was ruin the rug or be late to the
party, so, up came the rug, on went
the water in the bathtub, and to scrub
bing fell he. Tbe rug was saved, and
the theater party enjoyed tbe laugh
they had over the tale.
Insufficient Data.
Blobbs —What la Auzzler like when
he'a sober?
Sloths —I don’t know. I’ve only
known him about cine year*
the room, ran quickly down the stair.
The house was hushed; no passing
but her own, no butler in the hall, no
kitchen-maid on the back stair. Only
grim faces of pictures—ancestors not
her own—glimmered reproachful
upon her as she fled past. Light
echoes called her back along the hall.
The furniture, the muffling curtains,
her own reflections flying through the
mirrors, held up to her her madness,
and by their mute stability seemed to
remind her of tht shelter she was
leaving—seemed to forbid.
She ran. Thia was not shelter; It
was prison. He was rescue; he was
light itself. The only chance for her
was to get near enough to him. Near
him no shadow lived. The thing was
to get near enough. She rushed di
rect frot.' shadow into light She
came out into the sun, into the gar
den with its blaze of wintry summer.
Its whispering life and me free air
over it. The man standing in the
middle of it, for all his pot hat and
Gothic stick, was none the less its
demigod waiting for her, laughing.
11c might well laugh that she who hed
written that unflinching letter should
come thus flying at his call; but there
was more than mischief in him. The
high tide of his spirits was only the
sparkle of his excitement. It was
evident that he was there with some
thing of might' Importance to say.
Was it that her letter had finally
touched him? Had he come at last, to
transcend her Idea with some even
greater purpose? She seemed to see
the power, the will for that and the
kindness—she could not call It by an
other word —but though she was be
seeching him with all her silent atti
tude to tell her Instantly what the
great thing was, he kept it back a mo
ment, looking at her whimsically, in
dulgently, even tenderly.
“I have come for you,” he said.
“Oh, for me!" she murmured. Sure
ly he couldn't medn that! He was
simply putting her off with that.
"I mean it, t mean it,” be assured
her. "This doesn't make It any less
real, my getting at you through a gar
den. Better,” he added, "and sweet
of you to make the duller way Im
possible."
She took a step back. It had not
been play to her; but he would have
It nothing else. He, too, stepped
back and away from her.
"Come,” he said, and behind him
she saw the lower garden gate that
opened on the grassy pitch of the
hill, swinging Idle and open. The
sight of him about to vanish lured her
on, and as he continued to walk back
ward she advanced, following.
“Oh, where?" she pleaded.
"With me!” Such a guaranty of
good faith he made It!
She tried to summon her re.uctanre.
"But why?”
■'We’ll talk about It as we go along."
His hand was on the gate. “We can't
stop here, you know. She'll be watch
ing us from the window."
Flora glanced behind her. The win
dows were all discreetly draped—
most likely ambush—but that he
should apprehend Clara's eyes behind
them! Ah, then, he did know what he
was about! He saw Clara us she did.
She would almost have been ready to
trust him on the strength of that
alone. Still she hung back.
“But my things!” she protested.
She held up her garden hat. "And my
gown!” She looked down at her frail
silk flounces. Was ever uny woman
seen on the street like this!
"Oh, la, la, la,” he cut her short
"We can’t stop to dress the part.
You’ll forget 'em.”
She smiled at him suddenly, looked
buck at the house, put on her hut—
the garden hat. The moment she bad
dreaded was upon her. In spite of her
warning reason. In spite of every*
thing, she was going with him.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
New Bmokeles§ Fuel,
The new smokeless fuel of SherarA
Cowper-C’oles Is made by mixing one
part by weight of wet peat with two
parts of bituminous coal and heating
in a retort five hours at about 850 de
grees F. The temperature, aided by
the steam from the peat. Is Just suffi
cient to drive off the hydrocarbons
that produce smoke. The coal binds
the peat into a coherent mass and
this fuel has high calorific value, Ig
nlting readily In an ordinary grate
and burning economically and with
out smoke. The tar and other prod
ucts distilled over in the w. tery ex
tract may be condensed into a supe
rior pitch, while the gasen may be
burned to supply the heat required by
the process.
Jammed.
“The Mammoth Traction Company,"
said the young superintendent, proud
ly, “has 489 ears on its lines, and each
car is equipped With two 30-horse
power motors.”
"Gracious!” erted the young woman
visitor. “Y'ou don't mean to tell me
that each motor is equal to 30
horses?”
“Yes, madam; it’s a fact,” he as
sured her.
"Oh, dear,” she gasped. ‘7 do hop*
electricity will never give out, so
you'd have to go back to horses. It
would be just dreadful to have twice
30 times 489 horses running through
the streets "
CLEAN THE CLOSETS HEGULAB
*pply White Paint With Stiff Brush
—For Light Use Reflection
From Mirror.
A little time should be taken every
fleaning day in inspecting the closets!
about the house that are slightly or
not at all used; generally there is one
under the upper stairs or over the cel
lar steps.
These closets are In most instaDoe*
so dark that it is almost impossible to
tell whether they are dirty or not, but
it Is not hard to ell if they need a,
cleaning w ry to remember
the lart ,e you t, re them a thor
ough ,e; ,ng.
Tb ,e tirgotteci clorets are breeder*
of and 'ase, and they are often to bo
founv. j the very best managed house
holds. for few housewives and still
fewer maids will think of giving these
dark enclosures the cleaning they
need as regularly as they do the other
rooms of the house.
The dust might appear .nvisible
when you are not in search of it but
if you flash a light Into the low cetl
lnged apartment it does not take much,
imagination to picture how amazed
you will be.
A remedy for this is a can of white
paint and a good atotit brush. Apply
after a thorough cleaning out of dirt
and wall paper, if there is any.
For light while (leaning the place
the reflection from a mirror wilt
serve; but there will be no blind at
tempt to find your overshoes the next
rainy day if you give that closet two
good coats of white lead.
DOES AWAY WITH SCORCHING
Simple Culinary Apparatus That I*
Guaranteed to Prevent Food
From Burning.
The most careful ot cooks with the
many different viands in the course
of preparation under her eyes will slip
up occasionally and relax her vigilance
for a second when someone of the
articles on the stove Is touched by th*|
finger of fire. Scorched food Is one of)
the most Inexcusable offenses of the'
cook. A filmple piece of apparatus Uj
prevent this mishap has been devised.|
It consists of a metal affair resent-;
bllng an Inverted pleplate. generously,
perforated with small holes. This rest*
on the bottom of the kettle and ef-i
factually prevents the contents front;
coming Into contact with the over*
heated bottom.
Cornmeal and Meat Loaf.
Get two pounds of soup meat, with!
the soup bone, and after the soup has
been made remove all the meat aneb
chop It. fine. Then take about a quart
of the soup and reduce It slightly
with hot water, then add sufficient
cornmeal to make a rather thick mush.]
Cook the meal thoroughly, and when!
almost done, add tne chopped meat,,
with a little salt, pepper and two tea
spoonfuls of grated onion. Stir th
mixture frequently to prevent catch
ing or burning. When Jone, pour in a
pan to harden. Cut in slices and
serve like a beef loaf.
Little Aids to Housekeeping.
Linseed oil Rnd vinegar, mixed In
equal parts, will do wonders in clean
ing furniture.
Silver inkstands stained with ink
may be cleaned by applying a llttl®
j chloride of lime with water.
Pewter articles should be washed
| In hot water with the fine silver sand
and then polished with leather.
If a skirt or any other article has
Iteen scorched In Ironing lay It where
‘he sun will fall directly on it.
Braised Onions.
Four Spanish onions, two sheep's
kidneys, one cupful of brown gravy
and seasoning of salt and pepper. Wipe
and skin the kidneys, then slice them
finely, and season with salt and pep
per. Peel the onions, scoop out the
center portion and fill with the kldi
neys. Place them in a saucepan, add
the gravy and cook slowly for about
two hours. Serve on a hot dish, with
the sauce poured over.
Bamberrles.
One egg, well beaten, one cop ral
tlns, seeded and chopped, two-thirds
cup sugar, one-half cracker rolled fine,
juice of one lemon, butter size of wal
nut melted. Mix in order given. Now
have ready good tender pie crust, roll
thin, cut out with cookie cutter, put a
small spoonful of the mixture In each
round, wet the edges, fold over In
form of turnovers. Bake. This will
make most two dozen.
To Brighten a Cut-Steel Buckle.
To clean and brighten cut-steel
buckle and buttons, obtain a little un
slaked lime or powdered pumice stono
and apply It with a soft brush. Rub
briskly and the articles will soon ap
pear as bright as when new. If they
are kept In a box In which is stored a
little powdered lime there will he not
further trouble with them tarnishing.
Corn Fritters.
Silt and cut the corn from four
large, firm cars; mix a thin batter oC
me cup rnilk, one egg, two-thirds cup
sifted flour and one tenspoon of yeast
powder and a little salt; stir the com;
Into this batter, and fry a nice browni
in drippings or butler; butter is best
Serve very hot.
Corned Beef.
Heat the meat It. ccld water. When
at the hotline j-qint drain, add fresh
b011!.,*, „ater nnd keep the pot at the
side of the fire when; the water wll<
barely bubble. One hour for vach
pound is none too much and a longer
time will not be a disadvantage.