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"" in - ESTABLISHED 1891. BAMBERG-, S. 0., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 30, 1899. ONE DOLLAR PER YEAR. ??J* ?? ??????MnM>M?J^ V ' ~ I '..L^ss^H * a? t> t? *> ? *i si s? s? * * j? * a * i* ? v, 4 * ? * tf ** DOROTHY'S ** *, PRODIGAL ** # * A Thanksgiving Story. *aA ^ ^14 4 4 0 4 ?4 4 4 ^ 4 "Well, 1 don't s'pose anybody ever saw the likes o' that!" said Miss Polly. The thing that nobody ever saw the like of was a tear, it naa roueu uuwu Miss Polly's wrinkled cheek and fallen on her hand. While she looked at it curiously another tear slipped down the other cheek and dropped beside its fellow, where it glistened as her hand trembled. "Well, I vowl" murmured Miss Polly, in amazement. Words could go no further. When Miss Polly "vowed," there was nothing more to be said. All this was because the physician had come in from the other room and had said In his genial way:4 ''She's ever so much better this morning, Miss Polly. I think she'll pull through." That was how it happened that the two tears were glittering on Miss Polly's hand. They were very inconsistent tears, and Miss Polly had always been consistent. It was like turning her whole life wrong side out, and she realized it In the first place, Miss 0 "YOU ABB AU2ST POLLY." SHE SAID. Polly had never been an attractive woman. She was grim and harsh and hardworking. She was really a Mrs. Stephens, but she was married after having been an "old maid" for some ^ years, and her old name still clung to her. Her husband was a mild, quiet man and had lived but a few years after their marriage. People said that Hiss Polly had "driven" him to death and that he had been forced to die to get a little rest. There had been a child, too?ah, Miss Polly's grim face took on a look of pain when she thought of him!?a > handsome^ high spirited boy, who would not be "driven," and yet she had tried to drive him. It had never occurred to her that there was any other * way. The result had been that he left home when he was 15, and she had never heard from him since. From that day Miss Polly had grown more grim than ever. She made friends with nobody. She repelled everybody. Her black eyebrows drew nearer together. In a forbidding frown. Her : voice grew harsher and colder, and she became, as the years passed, more gaunt and iron gray. Poor old Miss Polly! People pitied her, but they were wise enough to let her alone. One day a letter came from a lawyer In a distant city. It said that her only sister, Mrs. Mary Alston, had died, leaving her a considerable property "In trust for my adopted daughter, Dodo- j thy Carew." ( "Fiddlesticks V exclaimed Miss P,olly. "Mary always was a fool!" And she threw the letter into the fire. A week later she saw a carriage drive up to her gate and deposit there a young girl, with her-trunk and boxes. The girl paid the driver, and the carriage went away, and then Miss Polly, angry and amazed, went and stood in the door, ready to warn the intruder off. The girl came up the walk aod looked straight into Miss Polly's face With her pretty, frank brown eyes. "You are Aunt Polly," she said. "I know because I have seen your picture. I am Dorothy Carew." And then, before Miss Polly could say a word, the girl took one of the hard, wrinkled hands in both her own and leaned forward and kissed the 1 withered cheek that had been unkissed so long. There was a moment's fierce struggle | in the old woman's breast. Then she said in her own grim way: 1 "I reckon I'll have to help you bring in your things. There's nobody else." She marveled at herself when she fAnr>/1 Kareol# iicrerirxr o t tho k/MJTTTT WUUU "VAWVM. **v v"v ^ ? trank and helping this girl this Dorothy Carew, whom nobody wanted, to get her things into the hall and from there into the "spare bedroom," which had been unoccupied since her boy had slept there. "I wasn't a-lookln for you," she said then, ungraciously enough, "but I reckon you can stay a few days till you git rested up." "Oh, thank you!" cried Dorothy sweetly. "This is a lovely old place, Aunt Polly! How you must love ltT* 8he was looking out of the window as she spoke. Inside the house everything was bare and unattractive, but when she glanced around her only thought was. "How pretty It might be made!" She began making it that very day. Even Miss Polly's stern face relaxed when she looked in upon it that evening. Pretty pictures and tiny shelves with dainty silken hangings brightened up the walls, and all about the room were charming nothings that pleased the eyes of the old woman. And yet she did not acknowledge it. No, Indeed! She said something sharp Instead about "all that flummery" and intimated that it was nothing more than "a trap to catch the dust." "Oh, I'll never let the dust get into them!" said that strange girl brightly. "And it is so easy to make a home pretty!" And then pretty things began to bloom out all over me uuuse, e?eu iu i Miss Folly's room, that stiff room with Its hard bed and its straight backed | cnairs. Somehow tne stianess sst tne angularity melted away as If by magic. Bits of bright ribbons looped back the curtains. In one corner suddenly appeared a little shelf with the daintiest pink vase upon it and a rose in the vase. Oh, she was a wonderful girl, this Dorothy! One day she went up and laid her fresh young cheek against the old woman's shoulder. "Aunt Polly," she said, "I miss my piano very much. I left it boxed up ready to ship. Suppose we send for it" And Miss Polly sent?grim old Miss Polly, who had always considered music of every kind an Invention of satan. When the piano came and the people saw it carried into that house, they crowded around the gate and stood on tiptoe and peeped over the fence. Several were heard to declare that Miss Polly was undoubtedly crazy. She came out then and shook her fist at them, and that was so much like her old self that they concluded her mind was all right after all. But, if not crazy, then what? And Dorothy's music! She liked best to play when the twilight was in the house, and the old woman would sit over by the dim window and look at the sunset sky and listen. Dorothy knew little about classic music or brilliant effects, but she could play many of the old time pieces and 6ing them, too, in a voice sweet and tender. At last something happened that showed the lonely old woman that this was not quite so bad a world as she had thought it and that she had even misunderstood herself. Dorothy was taken 111. It had seemed nothing but a slight cold at first, but by the next evening it was so much worse that Miss Polly herself put on her bonnet and ran for a physician. And so for many days they battled with the disease that had laid its hold upon the young girl and would not give her up. Then Miss Polly began to learn. People that she had not spoken to in years came to the door and asked if they might help take care of Miss Dorothy. An old woman that had been Miss Polly's mortal enemy and whom she had passed in the street a hundred times with her head turned contemptuously away now haunted the house with dainty dishes which she hoped might tempt the invalid. Even the boys of the neighborhood, between whom and Miss Polly there had been bitter warfare, hung about the gate now, and when their ancient enemy appeared they asked her if they couldn't "be sent on an errand or somettdn." "I didn't think she knew one o' these people," said the bewildered Miss Polly. "I didn't suppose she knew anybody but me." And so it came to pass that when the doctor came out of that quiet room one day and told Miss Polly that the crisis was past and that Dorothy would get well the old woman sat and looked down at the two tears that had fallen upon her wrinkled hands and said to herself: "Well, I don't appose anybody ever saw the likes & that!" One day, when the Invalid had grown strong enough to sit up and was In the great armchair all wrapped up in blankets. Miss Polly said In her own abrupt way: "I'm goln to keep Thanksgivln, Dorothy." Dorothy's eyes flashed with surprise and pleasure. "Don't yon?haven't you always kept It?" she asked. "No, I've never kept It I thought the day was no thin to me, and so I shut myself up and worked harder than ever and hated other people for makln so much of It But now this Is different I'm goln to cook a good dinner, my dear, and you shall ask the guests for your part I reckon you'd better invite the choir people, some of 'em, and Colonel Daly's daughter, that* 8 been here to see you so many times." "No, Aunt Polly," was all that Dorothy said, but her pretty pale face was suddenly flushed, and her mind was already busy with plans. What a Thanksgiving they would htive! "Cook ever so much, Aunt Polly," she said coaxingiy. "We shall want the two long tables put together, and I want them fairly filled, because the people that will be here would not have had any Thanksgiving at horn#.** The next day Miss Polly stood at the pantry window and watched the guests come. The first arrival was that poor old Mrs. Day, who had not walked a Btep or been outside of her own miserable house for more than 15 years. Dorothy'B friends, the boys, had carried her over, chair and all, in a kind of triumphal procession, and when they set the chair down they went outside and gave three cheers for Dorothy and three more for Miss Polly. Then came three girls from the factory, country girls, far from home and with few pleasures that were safe ones. In all that great, busy town nobody remembered them but Dorothy, it seemed. Then there was the old gentleman with the shabby clothes and the courtly manners, the old gentleman that Uved all alone In a little room at the top of a big house. What a pretty picture Dorothy made going out to meet him and pretending that he was assisting her up the steps when all the time she was helping him! And there were many others, enough to fill the long table. Just as they | were about to sit down Dorothy said: "There's a poor tramp, Aunt Polly, ? ? *??- - looking In at the gate, i Geneve i u gu and ask him in." Now, Miss Polly had been the sworn enemy of tramps all her life, and she started up suddenly. "Drive him away, Dorothy!" she cried. "I can't endure tramps." "But perhaps he's hungry," said Dorothy, turning her brown eyes full upon Miss Polly. "And we have a Thanksgiving dinner, and he hasn't" Then she went out and they saw her speak to the man and Invite him in. After all, they were glad of It It was too bad to think of any man going hungry while that dinner awaited them, and they cheerfully made room for him at the table. And such a dinner! Why, if Miss Polly had been in training for It all her life she could not have done better. And there was a baby at the table, a thin faced baby in the arms of a thin faced mother, and when it cast one look over the table It absolutely laughed, a funny little quavering laugh, as though it were not used to it. Then, in a moment, everybody was laughing, and there never was such a merry crowd. Why, even poor old Mrs. Day was laughing like a schoolgirl and declaring that she liked any part of the turkey, so there was enough of it As for Miss Polly?well, there was absolutely no accounting for her. There she was, carving away as though her life depended on it and flying here and there around the table and replenishing everybody's plate before it was half empty. Her face was fairly glowing with happiness. j^Jid then all at once the little old gentleman in the shabby clothes stood up and leaned his trembling hands on the table. He wanted to express his v. t-. ^ ~ c ?11 4-"U uwii uappjixess auu iimi ui an me guests, he said, at the privilege of joining in this blessed Thanksgiving feast Some of them had been living hard lives, very hard lives. Some of them had feared, had even thought that they were friendless and alone in the world. He thanked heaven for their hostess, who had made her home that day a home for so many others, and he thanked heaven for the lovely young girl who carried sunshine wherever she went It was not a very eloquent speech, but the greatest after dinner orator could not have won heartier applause. Even the baby cheered because the rest did. But Miss Polly was still Miss Polly, and she could take no praise that was not hers. "Don't give me credit for any o' it" she said stoutly. "It was all Dorothy's doin's. I've been a cranky old woman for a good many years until Dorothy got hold o' me and straightened me out. I'm glad you did it Dorothy. I always was a fool, a stubborn old fool! If I only had my poor boy back again, I'd be the happiest woman in all the land!" There were tears In Miss Polly's eyes now, sure enough, and they rolled down her cheeks without attracting the least attention, for just then a wonderful thing happened. The tramp arose from the table, took off his ragged coat pulled off his sunburned hair THE LITTLE OLD GE5TLEMAN STOOD UP. and his shaggy heard and stood there, a tall, handsome young fellow. And then the astounded company saw him go around and take Miss Polly in his arms. "Here I am, mother," he said as he kissed her. "And you are glad to see me, after all?" What a time it was! He told them 1 after awhile how he had so longed for a glimpse of the old home that he had determined to disguise himself and see the house and his mother once more. He had been in a distant city all these years and was in business there and prospering too. "And to think how near I came to 1 drlvin him away from my gate at ; last!" cried Miss Polly, her voice shaking' at the very thought. ""And it was : Dorothy that saved me from that! Oh, Dorothy, you have saved me from so much! And you have done it just as though it was the easiest thing in 1 the world to take up a crabbed, sour old woman and make her over again." ?Philadelphia Times. HARVEST HOME. 1 Tluinksgiring Is a Day of Merry- j making In Great Britain. Thanksgiving day is more generally ] observed in Great Britain than in any other country, since it is one of the few occasions when the nobility and peasantry In a sense unite in "mating merry." The day is better known there as "harvest home," being one marking that period when the harvest < is in and the tenantry and peasantry are given holiday. , As a rule, the nobleman or owner of | estates makes the day one of continued enjoyment, when his grounds are given over to his subjects and all manner of games and outdoor sports are carried out In his castle or home there is generally assembled a house party, and the guests Join with the 1 host and hostess in making the day one of happiness for the tenantry. The day's pleasure is concluded by what is known In this country as a "barn dance." The decorations in this ample place are significant of the harvest and the ceiling and walls have adornment of wheat in the most beautiful designs. The music is always of the very best and the owner of the estate and his guests do their best to make the occasion of great merriment. Many a story is told by the English novelists of how the pretty village maids, in their rosy cheeks and smart frocks, make jealous their country lovers when blushingly they accept the attentions of the young gallants of the nobility. On the other hand, the grand dames in their satins and jewels grow Jealous of the country lasses in their fresh beauty and taunt their knight errants for turning by their compliments the heads of "pretty peasantry." Provinna tn the dances there are fro quently theatricals, and wealthy estate owners have been known to engage the best of London companies to entertain their people at the time of "harvest home."?Atlanta Constitution. Roast SndLTng- ?-fg. The whole young pig roasted and stuffed, thrusting into the air four juicy trotters to the turkey's two, while not yet by any means as popular a Thanksgiving dish as the turkey, is coming every year to engross more and' more of the people's attention and appetite.?Cincinnati Post "I IstOUR OWN *, ** FESTIVAL JJ* I? -? ? ? X , Jf If jf* Thanksgiving: Peculiar to This Jf Jf Country. IT 'j * I ftf <l * ^ ? '<t r4 ?*?*'? c* ^5*/ LTHOUGH the (A ? first Thanksgiving differed very materially from its successors in that it i was proclaimed as a fast and not as a feast, it terminated in a festivity. Supplies had run short, the ships expected < from England were delayed, and extinction threatened the "governor and company of Massachusetts Bay in New England." Winthrop and his council decided to hold a day of prayer and ab- i stinence, "so that ye Lorde be propitiated and looke upon his servants with favor in that they have humbled i themselves before him." Accordingly a crier was sent about the primitive . settlement at Charlestown, and the ] colonists were each and all invited to take part in the fast. Their sacrifice j met with speedy reward. -I Scarcely had the noon hour of the al- i lotted day arrived when the long hop- i ed for ship made its welcome appearance in Massachusetts bay, the cargo, was landed, and the fast was succeeded by a banquet of a sort which must i have seemed sumptuous indeed to the exiles so recently plunged in hunger and hardship. On the threshold of i dreaded winter Winthrop and his fol- j lowers found what had been a pros- | pect of fear and peril changed into one ( of happiness and hope. Such was ] America's first Thanksgiving as cele- j brated 260 years ago. Thereafter each t succeeding November was marked In j the annals of the colony by a similar 1 festival of gratitude. 3 But Thanksgiving in the early days j of our history was not confined to the New England pioneers alone. Jnst 15 ] years after Winthrop's proclamation? i 1. e., in 1645?Governor Kieft of the ) Dntch colony, then known as Nleuw ] Amsterdam, but now as New York, or- i dered the observance of a day of rejoicing and thanks "for the rest and ] peace which God had been pleased to < bestow upon his servants." j The next notable Thanksgiving day ; in history fell in 1758. On that date ; the British and colonial army, com- f ] manded by General Forbes, attacked ] and captured from the French, after j a fierce struggle, Fort Duquesne, at ] the Junction of the Alleghany and Mo- , nongahela rivers. The name of the place was changed to Fort Pitt and j was the nucleus of the city of Pitts- | burg. Thus in a special sense the his- ; tory of the great capital of the coal and iron industries is connected with the | celebration of Thanksgiving day. i But meanwhile In New England what had been begun as an occasional day of i pious rejoicing had assumed the pro- i portions of a fixed national holiday, i In Massachusetts and New Hampshire l It was especially popular. There was 1 at first great latitude in regard to the ' day selected for the feast. Gc vernors proclaimed the chosen date arbitrarily, j and no effort was made to keep the anniversary of Winthrop's proclamation. Sometimes Thanksgiving ocurrced In July, sometimes In midwinter. At , length, through the efforts of the president and professors of Harvard col- j lege, it was practically fixed upon the last Thursday In November . j In the south Thanksgiving as an annual festival remained practically un- ( known until In 1855 the curious Vlr girua controversy on uie buujwu woo g precipitated. This controversy, which [ Is not generally known, deserves a brief notice. The governor of Virginia at the time was one Johns, a patriotic and t broad minded gentleman, who had al- t ways entertained a reverence for the c Puritan anniversary which was by no means common below Mason and Dix- t on's line. Governor Johns, in a letter to the state legislature, urgently rec- t ommended the recognition of Thanks- i giving in Virginia and offered, in case his recommendation proved satisfac- a tory, to at once Issue a proclamation. But the legislature of Washington's state did not look upon the New Eng- j land holiday with favor. Governor j Johns was advised not to make the i Thanksgiving proclamation, and, as he ] did not do so, the matter was allowed i temporarily to drop. But public inter- j est had been awakened, and before j long a fierce debate was raging in Vlr- j ginia between the opponents and sup- j porters of the proposed southern j Thanksgiving. At last, in 1857, Govern- j or Wise, Johns' successor, took the j metaphorical bull by the horns and Is- j sued a proclamation setting apart a j day for the feast His action caused J much angry criticism, and several j southern newspapers declared that I Thanksgiving was simply "a relic of j Puritanic bigotry." In spite of this, the j innovation was warmly welcomed. The j hospitable southerners greeted gladly j another holiday, and the northern feast j soon ranked among them as second in J Importance only to the glorious Fourth j itself. In 185^ the year after Wise's \ proclamation, no fewer than eight gov- j ernors of southern states proclaimed j Thanksgiving In their Sections. The j war, however, coming shortly after- 1 ward, practically extinguished the j popularity of the holiday in Dixie.? J Washington Star. 1 ThankagirlDgr Evening. Thanksgiving evening ought always j to be spent at home. And let everybody i have an open fire that can. Turn the j kitchen over to the children If they want It Let them have pumpkins to make jack-o'-lanterns of or Cinderella coaches, such as Miss Alcott describes In "Little Men." Let them pop corn and let them make molasses candy.? Exchange. I THE FIRST THANKSGIVING. George Washington Was Born on Its Anniversary. Tradition makes Thanksgiving in this country a legacy of the pilgrims and Puritans, but it was not only the English colonies, but those of the New Netherlands also, which made attempt at yearly celebration of a day of general gratitude. This week of recreation observed by the Plymouth pilgrims was undoubtedly much enhanced by Priscilla Moline's rare culinary acquirements. When provisions were at a low ebb, her deft hands prepared many an appetizing dish of the plainest stores, and the "common house" under her superintendence was a scene of banqueting. Gentle Dame Brewster, whom Priscilla loved so tenderly, was strengthened much by her kind ministrations. Naturally John Alden had his share, and in t-q5t? \uiqo Rfon/UcVi Rnnfht to be first tttiU KJ lUUUlk'U w v * -O - ? with the fair maid who prepared the viands. There is a suggestive coincidence in this statement in "Young's Chronicle" of Massachusetts, "The first Thanksgiving day on record in the colony of Massachusetts was held Feb. 22, 1631." On that day a century afterward was born George Washington. In 1675, the year in the history of New England when the colonists mourned their dead, sacrificed to Indian ferocity, that pregnant silence which speaks as no words can fell upon everything. Wars and rumors Df wars were sad realities which blotted out the memories of all previous privations and sufferings. The ever present now was more than the settlers could grapple with. That year they kept no Thanksgiving in Connecticut colony. The next year light broke, find Thanksgiving was again celebrated?New York Mail and Express. THE NATIONAL FEAST. Thanksglving'i Chief Feature la a True American Bird. The chief feature of the pational feast is a national bird. The turkey notwithstanding Dr. Samuel Johnson in tils dictionary defined him as "a large domestick fowl, supposed to be brought from Turkey," is a true American. Not a. hint of the existence of this prince of fowls had the civilized nations of the earth ever heard until the year 1584, when the ancient voyagers dropped anchor off Axacan, now In North Carolina, then a part of what was called Virginia, and, making a landing one beautiful day In midsummer, reported that they had seen deer, snow white cranes and a certain large TrrVtfnlt nnionttna Vt Q T7Ck fllnr?0 Lmu nmvu to worship under the name of turkey. His merits were quickly discovered by the early "explorers and adventurers" from other countries, as the Journals of Captain John Smith, William Byrd and their contemporaries attest, ?.nd it was not long before he was to be Pound on the tables of Europe. BrillatSavarin, of gastronomic and literary fame, called him "the most beautiful present made by the new world to the old." Formerly very abundant, the wild turkey is now to be found only Ln small docks here and there in the secluded glades of the Alleghany and Blue Ridge mountains, in the Florida wilds and^on the plains of the far southwest Domesticated, the turkey thrives and multiplies the world over. "Handsome, golden, done to a turn, scenting the room enough to tempt a saint" and served with that peculiarly savory New England production, cranberry sauce, no one will dispute the turkey's right to the sovereignty of the rhanksgiving feast "Did any one hear the dinner bell rin#?"?Boston Herald. Bow to Carve a Turkey. Insert the carving fork across the niddle of the breastbone. Cut through the skin between the jreast and the thigh. Bend the leg over and cut off close o the body and through the joint Cut through the top of the shoulder lown through the wing Joint Shave off the breast in thin shoes, ilanting from the front of the breast>one down toward the wing Joint fVirve onlv from the side nearest von. Tip the bird over slightly and with he point oI the knife remove the cry frier and the small dark portion fonnd >n the side bone. Then remove the fork from the >reast and divide the leg and the wing. Cut through the skin between the )ody and breast, and with a spoon renove a portion of the stuffing. Serve light or dark meat and stuffing, is preferred.?Selected. i[ A THANKSGIVING MENU. if , Eavr Oysters. i> Brown Bread Triangles i J Clear Soup. Crated Parmesan Cbeefls | i> Olives. Salted Peanuts. '? ? Roast Turkey with Chestnut Stuffing. ? 5 Bread and Giblet Forcemeat Balls, Chartaat i 5 Sauce. ? J Cranberry Jelly. ,| |> Hashed Potatoes. Baked Onions. ? |> Hickory Nut and Celery 8alad. ti I? Crackers. Cheese. ; i 11 Pumpkin Pie. |> Glace Fruit and Nuts v $ BREAD AND GIBLET FORCEMEAT ]| |> BALLS.?Boil the giblets and chop fine; jj jj mix with the meat an equal guantity of jj g bread crumbs, and for each cuprul of meat ? j? use one teaspoonful each of lemon iulce and ,f I chopped paisley, one tablespoonfui each of % jf Sour and butter, one saltspoonful each of ,( g salt and thyme, half a saltspoonful of pep- Jf Ig per, four drops onion luice and one beaten *1 egg. Mix, make into bolls the size of wsl- JH g nuts and fry in butter. M1 CHESTNUT SAUCE.?Chop fine a pint of Jf( chestnuts so they will cook quickly. When ,f turkey is nearly done, pour off half a pint of the stock In the bottom of the pam re- Mj move all the grease, add a cup of boihna water and boil the chopped chestnuts till jf, fkwMio?K a ifinvA on/i Mnlrim tf! ? witi a tablespoonful of flour which has been J jj mixed with two tablespoonfuls butter. V, g? BAKED ONIONS.?Parboil 10 Spanish on- Si f ions after they bare been peelea no may Ml jfr be too many tf they are very large), drain )T if them, put in a puading dish, sprinkle oyer SI & them half a teaspoonful salt, a saltspoonfql If! jr pepper, a tablespoonful butter out into bits Jfl 5 and half a cup cream. Bake^.% hours. Jfj SOW TO DRESS THE TABLE. S f one expects to give a Thanksgiving din- w. . tinted autumn leaves should be Otb- V a, waxed and pressed with a warm lion, w :hing is more beautiful for decorating a ? | inksgiving dinner table than the brilliant, V icolored leaves arranged in designs or S ;wn carelessly over the snowy linen. A S terpiece of any red autumn berries and t ? glossy Thanksgiving Jn Old Virginia. Old black mammy has a possum on to bake With sweet potatoes, sweeter than a maple sugar cake, And her pickaninny's gone by the light of the moon With his yellow bellied puppy to tree a fat coon. The coon lies a-grinning in the hollow of a gum That the yellow hammer uses for his morning drum, While the gray squirrel chuckles in high old glee At the hickory nuts a-raining from the hickory nut tree. The gray owl shivers on a dead oak limb And blinks in the Bunshine, mellow and dim, While molly cotton rabbit gives a half a dozen hops AnU bears her heart beating of a sudden and stops. The air is so fine and soft and clear That the lence seems far and the mountains seem TK1 the partridges fly to the fences and 'light, , And call out a song about "old bobwhite!" "Old bobwhite, are your crops all right? Is there wheat beneath the barn for the first cold night? The guinea hens and turkeys find its shelter mighty warm. We'll gather in among 'em when there comes a storm." The wild turkey's calling from the far hillside; The foxhounds are baying on the long divide; There's a fat pig squealing, for life is sweet, But not much sweeter than his sausage meat! ?John Paul Bocock. Ckestnnt Stuffing. Get two quarts of large French chestnuts. Shell and boil them until the skins are softened. Then drain off the water and remove the skins. Boll three pints of the chestnuts again until soft. Then press through a colander. Season with one and a half tablespoonfuls of butter, one and a half teaspoonfuls of salt and a quarter of a teaspoonful of pepper. If moist stuffing la desired, add three tablespoonfuls of cream. THE OLD STYLE PUMPKIN PIE Some like a fancy custard pie Or apple, mince or game Or some newfangled article, I 'low, just for the name- " ~ 1 ain't bo p'tic'lar some I know '-And different firdm the rest, But the good old fashioned pumpkin pies Are what I love the best. T*?n V?nV?rln tnr > nlpOP riffht SOW Of the pie that mother made. When I came home from school, Fd get v A hunk, and in Fd wade. . And?pVhape my mouth is somewhat large 1 Though Fd resort to tears, She wouldn't give me another piece Because it mussed my ears. Fve lingered here a lifetime since, j.. Put up with what I got, But oft in dreams I'm bade again To that old familiar spot, ;., I And then at such times I can find On the butt'ry shelf arrayed A row of good old pumpkin pies. The kind that mother made. ?Philadelphia Times. Bsbsolling and Drains**, A western correspondent who has tried an experiment with snbsolllng writes to The American Cultivator of his disappointment in the result The first year turned out as he had expected, and there was an Increased crop. But the next year the land settled down harder and wetter than It was j before, and he was completely discouraged. Undoubtedly, says The Cultivator, in this case the subsoil was a heavy clay, and when it had been broken up the water settled into It, making the pulverized soil a muddy clay, which, when dried out, was harder than It was originally. The lesson from this experience Is plain. It does no good to heavy land to subsoil It without first making a way to dispose of the surplus water through underdrains. On well drained land one thorough subsoiling never entirely loses Its good effect Barrels or Boxes For Fruitf "While the fruit box Is used almost altogether for shipping California, Colorado and Oregon apples to our eastern markets and for export as well and meets with the general ap J .ll proval of commission men ana rem tiers, there seems to be an unwritten law among these men that the western apples and none others shall be packed In such manner," says a writer In Rural New Yorker. "It Is my firm 1 belief, based on actual experience, that they are Justified in the stand they have taken and in discouraging the use of the box among eastern apple growers and shippers. As much money with less labor can be obtained by using a full size, nicely coopered bar- 1 rel, neatly marked and stenciled, and, 1 above all, filled with honestly graded, perfect fruit I have used both barrels and boxes and find the former altogether more satisfactory than the latter. I think, however, that the box may be used with profit for fine quality pears, though it has been demonstrated to me this summer that the barrel is again foremost for style and , for money." One Way to Keep Sqnaah, Squashes and sweet potatoes are of a similar nature and require the same o?rp in Rtorincr awav. For keeDlnar purposes the round squashes with deep scallops are as good a variety as I have found. Leave the squashes on the vines until cool weather, but do not let them freeze. After taking them from the vines keep them in a dry, airy place for about a month so that they will thoroughly dry out Then select only those in perfect condition and wrap each separately In paper, place in barrels or boxes and keep in a dry, sunny room where they will not freeze. An up stairs room over a room where a fire is kept is an ideal place, says an Ohio Farmer correspondent. IN HONOR OF PRESIDENT DAVIS. The Daughters of the Confederacy Have Assumed the Responsibility of Building the Davis Monument. Mrs. Augustine T. Smythe, of Charleston, has issued the following circular to the Daughters of the Confederacy in South Carolina, and has also requested its publication in our columns: Charleston, S. C. Nov. 20,1899. To the Officers and Members of Chapter, South Carolina Division, Daughters of the Confederacy?Ladies: At the late convention of the Daughters of the Confederacy, held in Richmond, it was determined to accede to the request of the Veterans and assume the responsibility of erecting the longJ.l J 4 4. T, T? uuiaycu Luutiuuieiib wocuciduu xsavie, President of the Confederate States. This decision was not reached without carefui thought and discussion; all the delegates recognized the weight thus laid upon the association, but they also realized that upon the acceptance of this burden of responsibility rested the hope of an early accomplishment of the work prooosed. The Hon. J. Taylor Ellyson, mayor of Richmond, Va., and president of the Jefferson Davis Monument Association, came before the convention and by his explanation removed any impression that indifference or inertness on the part of the men bad occasioned the proposal to transfer this work to other hands. Difficulties arising from earlier and very expensive plans were such that this change had become urgently advisable. The following letter from Mr. Ellyson gives a full report of the present condition of the Jefferson Davis Monument Association: Richmond, Va., Nov. 13,1899. Mrs. S. T. McCullough, Chairman Jefferson Davis Monument Committee, U. D. C.?Dear Madam; The Jefferson Davis Monument Association was organized in 1890 and chartered by the General Assembly of Virginia. At the meeting of the United Confederate Veterans in Cnarleston, S. C., in May, 1899, a resolution was adopted requesting the United Daughters of the Confederacy to assume the responsibility of the completion of this monument and authorizing the Jefferson JJavis Monument Association to turn over any funds in their possession to the United Daughters whenever they should comply with the request of the United Confederate Veterans. I had the honor on Friday of submitting the question for the consideration of the convention of the United Daughters of the Confederacy, then in session in this city, and they adopted a resolution by which they consented to comply with the request of the Veterans and endeavor to raise a sum sufficient to erect a suitable monument to the President of the Confederate States. It is my pleasure to be able to report to you that we have in our treasury the sum of twenty thousand, four hundred and sixty-live dollars and 31-100, ($20,405 31.) which we wiirturn over to your treasurer whenever requested by you to do so. Our association has no debts of any sort and you will take up the work without any embarrassments on account of any action previously t&xen by us. The idea of the United Confederate Veterans was the* we should turn over to you the funds we have and that you would take up the work as though it had never been begun. You were at liberty to select such design as you might think proper, choose such a site in or near the city of Richmond as you might prefer and erect ^monument at such time and at such cost as the United Daughters might deem best I beg leave to renew the assurance heretofore extended that any assistance that the members of the Jefferson Davis Monument Association may be able to render to the ladies will be most cheerfully given. We believe that under your energetic and loving direction the task of building a monument to Jefferson Davis will soon be completed. Yours respectfully, J. Taylor Ellyson, President. W. D. Chester man, Secretary. By vote of the convention an executive .committee was formed, called theJefferson Davis monument committee of the U. D. C., consisting of a member from each State. This committee organized immediately by the election of Mrs. S. T. McCullough, president of the Grand Division of Virginia, U. D. C., as its chairman, and Mr; J. S. Ellett, of Richmond, the bonded treasurer of the Jefferson Davis Monument Association, as treasurer. With this committee is associated an advisory board of five gentlemen, members of the Jefferson Davis Monument Association, the Hon. J. Taylor Ellyson, chairman. The South Carolina delegation selected me to represent the State on the executive committee, subject to the approval of the State Division, which was given at its convention in Greenville. As your representative on that committee it is my duty to beg that your chapter will, as soon as possible, take steps towards the accomplishment-of the object set before us by our association?that of erecting a monument to Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederate States. All other appeals seem weak when compared to this, and I entreat that all other plans for work may be temporarily set aside until this duty be ful filed. In honoring the memory of President Davis we build a monument to the principles of the government he represented?principles, which are now being acknowledged as right even by many who fought against them. The task before us is not unduly heavy. Authorities say that a suitable monument can be put up for $50,000. With strong, concerted action on the part of Southern women success will be sure, and the JJaugnters 01 tne Confederacy may well feel that their organization has not been in vain if it can be made the means of bringing about a consummrtlon so ? heartily wished for by all who revere the memory of the " Lost Cause." The committee will be very glad to hear of any elfort on the part of your chapter to raise funds for mis monument and if any further information or suggestion in my power is desired please call upon me. Mrs. Augustine T. Smythe. Member for South Carolina of Jefferson Davis Monument Committee, U. D. C. ?On the ranch of Paul Miller, at Bradley Flat, near Hot Springs, S. D., is a ledge of rock whicn seems to possess all the properties of a photographic plate. When the rock is moist it -' a rlpar Will SHOW SI bCr Q nuuuuvi ow4 m* M photograph of the surrounding trees and bushes. Gradually pictures so taken seem to fade out, being renewed by each new thunderstorm, though the same objects are not always reproduced. The lock seems to be a combination of flint and sandstone and is of a dirty red color. . , '- ir? ; - > THE JEFF DAVIS MONUMENT. A Labor of Love Which Has Been Assigned to the Women ol the Sonth. The following address to the Daughters of the Confederacy in Sonth Carolina has just been issued by the president of the South Carolina division. It will doubtless result in accomplishing much for the cause so earnestly advocated : To the South Carolina Division, United Daughters of the Confederacy : ' ~ 3 Dear Ladies and Friends: With the purpose of furthering the trne aim of the Daughters of the Confederacy, and sending forward a message from the 'M heart and mind of our women, I ask your indulgence for the first words I address to you from the office of honor v $ to which you have called me. If my mind were not so full of the : . dignity and splendor of the project which I present to you for^considera^ tion, in this letter, I might stop to speak of the personal estimation I have for the position I occupy bv vour rood will and choice. I will allow myself to say that a statesman oiice remarked to me that a public honor is mater op* portunity for more thoroughly serving the public. I believe I shall be doing this in ?, placing before you my conception of the strongest, most enduring and far* reaching work in which the Daughters of the Confederacy can engage until It shall be completed. The Jefferson Davis monument has been accepted as our work. I would recommend that we make it The work & of the Daughters of the Confederacy. The flowers we throw upon monads, the medals we bestow in schools, the crutches we put under the soldiers' arms are our wayside flowers. -These services relax the heart,, engage sympathies, enlist many workers.- They gratify all, and are right claims upon M us. Every stroke of the artist's brush tells in his picture?not one, Ught or ^ heavy, but would impair perfection if missed. Our sweet charities, onr local interests, our home monuments, our dear little care of graves are the delicate shadings' which enrich and complete our wonderful picture?The Confederacy. Still we must have in it the * big, strosg tone which is idealised by these tender touches. That, is the foundation of their excellence. Search in ail directions, among the graces of feeling, or into the " deepest depth " of thought, and we find below' the sea of general endeavor, the cable, upon which we rely to send our message into the lives of future men and 1 women* * What is the message ? Not to tell them that man women suffered, but to tell them whit they died aud suffered for, and thai we pass States' Rights on to them for them 5 to live for. How shall we ensure the endnraaoe of our message? How secure it against the hazards of time and defeat of ob? ':'m livion ? You shall not always be here to decorate graves of heroes, but we can leave behind us a witness in stone ?reared to face the whole world? which would testify our reverence for our statesmen and our confidence iif - 3 their creed. % ,1sa The Jefferson Dav? monument is not the memorial of man, but it is the concrete record of the political faith of the Southern people exemplified in that one man. You see by the minutes of the con- -gi vention of the Daughters of the donfederacy recently held at Greenville, ' ^ that this work has been recommended 8 by convention to the chapters. I add to this my personal recommendation, ^ leaving it in your consideration. Sincerely I am yonra, :'-Mi Mbs. Thomas Taylor, Pres. S. C. DIv,, D. C. THE VICTOR BLUE ME DAI* Y? The Women of South Carolina Have Honored the Young Naval tHero With a Beautiful Testimonial. The handsome medal to be presented to Lieut. Victor Bine, of the United States navy, has been completed and is . on exhibition in Columbia. The As- ' ^ sociation for Patriotic Award w?s formed January 31, 1889, with Mrs. Ellison Capers as president, aud Mrs. E. W. Screven asaecretary and treasurer. Its object was to procure a suitable testimonial to Lieut. Victor Blue, and . ' it was then and there decided that the testimonial shonld take the shape of a ' , ; handsome gold medal. The secretary was instructed to write to a lady la each town and considerable village, informing her of her appointment ap collector for the Association and reaoest ing her to gather funds for the medal. In four months over $300 was sent . in. A medal committee was appointed, consisting of the Hon. Wo. A. Oourtenay, chairman, and the Right Rev. Ellison Capers and the Hon. Le- . > roy P. Yonmans. Mr. Cowtenay nnr iyssgB dertook the labor of love with the < greatest care. The devices on each side are his selection, as also the in- & scripti on in English. The beautiful Latin inscription is furnished by Gen. Youmans. The workmanship was dene at the United States mint in Phlladel- fa phia. Lieut. Blue is attached to the United States ship Massachusetts. It is probable that the presentation of the m medal will take place in New York at ' " an early day at the hands of a distin- ^fpaja guished South Carolinian. The dies were engraved by W. Charles E. Barber, of the United States mint, Philadelphia. The medal is two and a half inches in diameter and one fourth of an inch thick. The obverse presents in its upper half the coat-ofsrms of South Carolina; it is in high relief, delicate in its outlines, elaborate : ^ in its details; the figure of the Con tin- m enlai soldier, usually seen knock'kneed' and with a scared look, here stands erect and soldierly. Barber's female figure really looks here like a human being?a Carolina matron. The shields, .palmetto tree, etc, are presented "en , - . Vregle," and the State mottoes are in readable form, and not - bottom up, as seen in most of the blocks in use. fhe in>ni.ini!nn "Tha vnm.n nf SnntS fla. ' <*" iu^vi ipuvu) au? ? vmi.m vft wvwtt . roll Da to Lieut. Victor Blue, 0. S. N., M in high appreciation of his courage, en- M terprise and distinguished services in < } tha Santiago de Cuba campaign, 1888." . *: ' ^ Tne reverse of the medal is symbolic of the United States navy, the basis of the design being the great seal of the navy department?a ship under sail, an anchor in foreground, upon which . ?| an eagle with outstretched wings is alighting. All this is in high relief, and as illustrative of the engraver's art will compare most favorably with the numismatic work of any nation. The rim or border displays the emblematic. '"4 stars of the Union and this motto: " Explorator Portissimus tnPoato Sylisque Floruit." The medal has been prepared at the United States mint at Philadelphia. There it is de- ^ sired to leave the dies on deposit, in order to have replicas in bronze supplied to numismatic societies, and col lectors in the United States and in Europe at a relatively small outlay. ???^? ?The minute an office hoWer gets '* kicked out he begins to howl "reform,*1 .