Newspaper Page Text
(mVZf£KI4IV niMKWOW*r/t6JrM~- cormosr *as *zr JPOJSUV- S'ttjrKlU, ca 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.