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The Leon reporter. (Leon, Iowa) 1887-1930, November 29, 1900, Image 5

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn87057096/1900-11-29/ed-1/seq-5/

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CHAPTER II.—(Continued.)
She hesitated. And he saw her bare
hands—they were very small hands
he had noticed, with slenderly-shaped
fingers—wring themselves together as
If in overwhelming distress or perplex
ity. Then she spoke in a half-stifled
voice:
"I thinlc I shall go home to him. I
am afraid to bring another doctor. I—
I shall do what I can for him myself."
A .thought struck Enderby and he
said quickly, with a shade of embar
rassment:
"If you are afraid of Doctor How
arth's charges. Miss Lloyd, I think you
can let your mind be easy about that.
He is, I believe, a very kindly and
generous man."
He saw the girl start and flinch a
little, as if his words had stung her.
Then she said:
"It is not that I think I had better
so straight home."
1
"Very well."
1 1
Enderby stopped the driver and
stepped out The gaslight fell full on
the girl's face as he turned to look at
it. What a1 ghastly, pale, troubled
young face it was! Tet it struck him
that it might under certain circum
stances, be beautiful.
The features were small and aqui
line, the brow childishly smooth and
white, the mouth and chin softly and
roundly formed, tnough the former
had a strange expression of self-re
pression now the eyes were weird
and dark, though the hair seemed au
burn, the brows above them of startl
ing blackness. And what a child she
looked! Hardly sixteen, he thought,
as he looked at her.
"What, address shall I give the
man?" he asked.
"Burdon Mansions," she answered.
"They are only about five minutes'
walk from here."
Enderby knew them well by name—
small flats, mostly occupied by needy
clerks and poor working women.
He stood still for a moment think
ing.
"I hope your foot will be all right,"
he said then, "and that your father
may be no worse. May I call in a few
days and see?"
She gave him a quick, almost terri
fied glance, then suddenly her lips be
gan to tremble pitifully, and she
turned aside her bead.
"How kind you have been!" she
faltered, "and I have never thanked
you."- She put out her hand as if im
pulsively, then drew it back before
he could touch it. "It is kind of you
to wish to call," she said. "Yes, I
shall be very grateful if you do. We
live two stories up."
"How will you get up with that
•sprained foot of yours?" he ask®
"D.on'i you. thiijk ,X^ha$-«better
with you and lielp you?"
"Oh, it is/riot much," she said, her
voice faltering but without another
•. word •/Enderby got in again, and they
'drove on -ta Burdon Mansions.
They were a pile of dull, dreary
looking buildings. Enderby paid the
man and helped the girl, who limped
painfully within the buildings. But
wheii they attempted to climb the
stairs, be saw that it cost her terrible
pain, and he turned to her, saying
quietly:
"Will you allow me to carry you
up?" It is the easiest and speediest
way.
A little crimson patch suddenly
showed on her cheek, like the mark of
a warm finger she put up her own
hand and rubbed it feverishly as if it
bul-hei
"No, no you musn't!" she said.
But Enderby had already stooped and
taken her In his arms. How light she
was—not so heavy as many a child
of ten!
Enderby had never had a woman In
his arms before, and he was almost
astonished himself to find how tender
ly they enfolded this girl. But for the
sake of one woman Enderby was ten
der to all.
They were soon at the landing of
the second flat Enderby set her
down, and she stood leaning on the
wall, her face deadly pale again, but
her eyes shintag strangely.
"I cannot thank you," she said, her
lips trembling oddly and uncontroll
ably. "But perhaps God will repay
you for your kindness to me—a
stranger of whom you know nothing.
They say London is full of wicked
ness, but it must be full of goodness,
too. Now I must go."
"I shall wait for a moment here,"
said Enderby, with a sudden resolu
tion. "And you will come out and tell
me If your father is any better. Per
haps I can do something yet to help
you."
She turned away and opened the
door on the left with a lachkey, then
closed it gently. Enderby remained
where he was. In a few minutes the
door opened again, and the girl stood
at the entrance.
"He is sleeping," she said, whisper
ing. "Perhaps he will be better now."
"That is good," Enderby answered,
heartily. "May I call in a few days?"
"Yes but my father does not wish
anyone to know where he Is. You
won't tell anyone, about us?" she
hesitated. ,^3
"You may depend uponijie," said
Enderby, heartily. "Good night."
Hp- puV "«ut his hand, the girl laid
small, slft&xone In it, and Enderby
fave it a friendly pressure. Then he
.went away.
As he emerged Into the open air
again he fancied a shadow flitted
.noiselessly round a corner of the manJ
•ions. Then he drew himself together
with a short laugh, for a disagreeable
.thrill had run through him at tis
fancy.
He had bidden the hansom wait and
he went up to the. man. who was ttt»
Hog Arowanjr before him.
da
p-f w- iJ
A VHM,
Bu.' -"u f,'
H. B. "Welsh
"Did you notice a man go round the
mansions as I came out, driver?".
Cabby shook his drowsy head. j'V:%
"No, sir, I haven't. W'y, all wise
folks is in their beds in this 'ere lo
cality hours ago, I should say," he
retorted, with a touch of personal
feeling.
Enderby got in, and was soon being
driven to his rooms in the West End.
Somehow, the strange incidents of
the night had oddly unsettled him.
Even when he went to bed his dreams
were disturbed by strange, uncomfort
able reproductions of these incidents,
grotesquely and even horribly de
formed. For so matter-of-fact a man
Paul Enderby was oddly fanciful over
them.
Still, undoubtedly the experience
had been rather a peculiar one.
He felt sure the girl was refined and
of gentle birth It is not difficult to
detect the signs of these. Her accent
was not exactly an English one, yet
It was not peculiar enough to be pro
nounced un-English.
Who was she? Who was her father?
What reason could she have for abso
lutely refusing to allow another doc
tor but this Doctor Lyndon to see her
father? Who was this Doctor Lyn
don?
With the morning the Incidents of
the night before seemed to have drift
ed off into the same region as that in
which dreams are made but one
reminiscence of them remained with
Enderby, and oddly annoyed him. It
was the memory of the man who had
passed in the hansom while he was
speaking to the girl who called her
self by the name of Lloyd.
Enderby sauntered along to the
Courts, where he assumed gown and
wig, and listened to the cases. He
was not absolutely a briefless barrister
and he was considered very clever.
But, besides that, Paul Enderby
came of a very good family, and was
not, though he himself was poor, so
very far removed from the Barony of
Eglin, having only five lives between
him and it. So that Enderby was
somewhat of a spoiled child of society,
being a good-looking, straight-limbed,
handsome fellow enough after the pure
Saxon type, and without a taint upon
his name.
He was coming out of the Courts
when some one tapped him on the
shoulder.
"Ah, Enderby, going to the club,
are you? I'm due there at five and
have one or two engagements after
dinner. I suppose you will put in an
appearance at the Panningtons to
night?"
Enderbjr's pleasant, fresh-complex
iO%ad. iace had Jifien_o.yerghj3.dowed by.
a'look of annoyance as the newcomer
addressed him. He was a man a little
older than himself—not above middle
height, and slender with it, with a
pale, dark face, black eyes placed
rather close together, and a smooth,
straight, unpleasant mouth, which had
a disagreeable habit of curling up
wards when he laughed. He was Dig
by Dalton, and was by profession also
a barrister.
"I dare say I shall look In at the
Pennlngtons," he answered, drily.
"But I have another engagement."
"Miss Lennox's reception?" smiled
Dalton. "Yes. of course, you will be
there, Enderby. What a man you are
for being asked out! By the by, had
you anything on last night?"
Enderby' looked straight Into the
smiling face.
"Perhaps I had. May I ask why you
Inquire, Mr. Dalton?"
"Oh, nothing!" ,The other shrugged
his shoulders. "Only curious, wasn't
it? I was driving over Westminster
about half past one, and I saw a man
with a girl on the bridge. I could
have sworn It was you. Curious,
wasn't it?"
"Not at all," Enderby answered
coldly. "It was I."
"Oh, I beg your pardon! I really
would not have mentioned it if I had
thought that was the case," said Dal
ton, as if with regret. "Of course, we
men of the world don't inquire too
narrowly into each other's affairs but
you know there are a few men whose
lives seem open to every one and
whose slightest action win bear Inves
tigation. I don't require to tell you,
Enderby, that we all consider you are
one of those. In fact, your member
ship at the Bayard Club is sufficient
proof. Well, I shall not detain you.
I have a little matter of business to
settle in the Strand." And lifting his
hat with elaborate politeness, he dis
appeared.
Enderby knew every word he had
spoken had been armed with a ven
omed tip. Dalton had hated him from
the first time they had met. That
hatred had become deepened into
something vindictive and malignant
when, through Enderby, though more
by accident than choice, Dalton had
been dismissed from the club, which
was sometimes mockingly called the
"Bayard," on account of having been
found cheating at cards.
"He recognized me, of course," En
derby said to himself. "And he will
go to-night to Miss Lennox, and tell
her. Well, she has more than an or
dinary woman's sense of fairness. She
will let me speak for myself. And
will she believe him? Or will her
heart have something to say on my
behalf? Cecil, Cecil!"
'He whispered the name to himself
as a devotee might whisper the name
of a sacred shrine. For to Paul En
derby, to whom all womanhood was
sacred, Cecil Lennox was the incarna
tion of all that was noblest, purest
and fairest In woman. So littlo does
the simple, straightforward nature of
a good man understand a womaa.
CHAPTEH HL
It was two days after the reception
at the West End mansion of Sir Henry
Lennox, the well-known Queen's Coun
sel, who was considered one of the
wealthiest men connected with the
legal profession.
Enderby had seen Cecil Lennox but
for a few minutes, but she had then
been able to utter the words that
thrilled Enderby through as no other
words could have done.
"Come to see me on Friday. It is
not my day at home, but I shall be
at home—to you."
Paul Enderby was thirty, was a bar
rister, and was prosaic, yet his heart
and pulses throbbed like those of a
sentimental boy of twenty as he was
admitted into the presence of Cecil
Lennox.
She was certainly a very beautiful
woman. As she came forward to greet
him, her tea-gown of pale sea-green
and billowy lace falling in graceful
folds about her, Enderby thought that
no woman who ever lived could have
excelled her in beauty and grace. But
there were others who might have
thought that the beauty of Cecil Len
nox—of the soft, exquisitely tinted
face, of the rounded chin and throat,
the red-lipped, smiling mouth, the
deep, changeful, soft, violet eyes—had
something sensuous and voluptuous in
it
Enderby did not think so. He loved
the woman—or was it the woman he
imagined her to be?—and that was
enough.
Cecil let her soft little hand lie in
his for a moment, then she drew him
towards the silk-covered couch from
which she had risen.
"It was good of you to come," she
said, in her low, caressing voice. "We
shall have tea presently. I suppose
I needn't ask you how you enjoyed
my crush? People never do enjoy
crushes. Why do we give' them at
all? Oh. I often wish I had the cour
age cif my convictions, and could throw
off this yoke of social fashions and
conventions, and be what I should like
best to be—a simple human being,
asking to my house only those I really
cared for, and being able to inter
change thought and friendly kindness
with them!"
As a matter of fact. Miss Lennox
would not have given up her "social
fashions and conventions" for any
thing that could have been given her
in exchange. But she was clever
enough to suit her tastes, as well as
her conversation, to the individual
characters of her companions.
(To be Continued.)
Bow l'lants Gain Weight.
As far as is known the first botani
cal experiment ever performed was
conducted by a Dutchman. He placed
in a pot 200 pounds of dried earth,
and in it he planted a willow branch
which weighed five pounds. He kept
the whole covered up and daily wa
tered the earth with rainwater. After
five years' growth the willow was
again weighed and was found to have
gained 164 pounds. The earth in the
pot was dried and weighed and had lost
only two ounces. The experimental
ist, therefore, looked\upon this experi
ment as supporting \he theory that
Plants required no food but water. But 'wander back to the past., Fifteen
lie was wrong.^-Lal^itHfras dtei'df* yearff before she had been the prom
ered that much of the increase in
weight of plants was derived from car
bonic acid gas in the air. Vegetable
cells contain a liquid known as "cell
sap," which is water holding in solu
tion various materials which have
been taken up from without by the
roots and leaves. Thus it 1s in the
living cells of the plant that those
"digestive" processes are carried on
which were once believed to occur In
the soil.
Mining In Fern.
The Hon. C. P. Collins, of Bradford,
Pa., president of the Inca Mining com
pany, which owns the Santo Domingo
mine, In the province of Carabaya,
with Mr. and Mrs. Hamsher, have just
arrived at the mine in perfect health,
writes George R. Gepp from Lima,
Peru, to the Chicago Record. All are
deeply impressed with the immense
mineral wealth of the locality, and are
convinced that the company has got
possession of a paying property. In
fact, Sandia and Carabaya seem to be a
South African Transvaal. It Is likely
that various other mines belonging to
this company will now be worked al
so that an electric tramway will be
laid down from Tirlpata to Santo Do
mingo, and perhaps even a3 far as the
borders of the River Madre de Dios.
Pnrlfled the Spot He Had Sat On.
Outside a certain native bazaar in
Egypt a Frenchman sat busily paint
ing. Inside sat the dusky salesman.
Unlike most other bazaar keepers, he
had not instantly shut everything up
and made himself scarce as soon as he
saw that he and his belongings were
being photographed. He simply sat
stolidly there. The Frenchman, hav
ing finished, packed up his traps and
disappeared. Then the bazaar keeper
gave a quiet @rder, and a youth came
out with a thurible in his hand filled
with burning incense, and carefully
and slowly incensed every inch of the
spot the Frenchman had occupied and
the whole of the immediate neighbor
hood as well.—New York Press
Coachman Obeyed Orders#
From Downs there is reported an
instance of "carrying a message to
Garcia," which 8id not result so sat
isfactorily as It might G. W. Young
telegraphed hi3 coachman at Downs .to
"meet me tonight with team at Sa
lem," Salem being a small town a few
miles away. But when the coachman
received the message it read, "Meet me
tonight with team at Salina," a big
town ninety-six miles away. The
coachman asked the telegraph oper
ator to have the message repeated, and
It came "Salina" again, whereupon he
started for that place and reached it
by night, though he ruined both horses
in the finest team of Osborne county.—
Kansas City Journal.
The Hist real American hotel In Eng
land will be located adjoining the new
Wateloa railway station, London. It
wlU he entirely of steel construction.
HOPE
The train due at Paris Junction at
9:35 was ten minutes late on Thanks
giving morning. As it halted before
the little station, which stood amid
bare brown fields at the crossing of
the two railroads, a gentleman and a
lady stepped to the platform.
The lady gathered her sealskin cape
around her and hurried into the depot.
She was a plump, middle-aged woman
with a clear, dark face. When the
gentleman entered the room, she was
addressing the station agent.
"How long before the next train
west on the other road?" she asked in
a voice of peculiar swetness.
The man started and drew nearer.
"There won't be 'nother tran till
4:10."
"But there is one due in a few min
iiites."
"It's gone. Your train was late."
She gasped. "What am I to do? I
must be at Latimer before 2."
"I don't know."
She turned appealingly to her fel
low traveler. He stepped forward,
lifting his hat.
A glance into the strong face lighted
by frank gray eyes, and she gave a
little cry, a soft rose-pink flush stain
ing her cheeks.
"Leon Bartley! How do you hap
pen to be here?" and she timidly ex
tended her hand.
"I am on my way to spend Thanks
giving with my old friends, the Her
ringtons, at Latimer."
"And I to eat my Thanksgiving tur
key with my cousin. Lulu Myers."
A moment's silence fell between
them. The station agent had retired
to his little den, which contained his
desk, leaving the two travelers in pos
session of the room. There was a brisk
fire in the stove, and the air was laden
with the fumes of the soft coal. Aside
from the stove, the sole furniture of
the room consisted of a wooden bench
which extended along two siles. The
uncurtained windows were dingy and
dirty.
Outside there was only the shining
tracks and the fields. At a little dis
tance a solitary farmhouse could be
seen.
They were roused by a dash of froz
en sleet against the windows. Bart
ley advanced to the door of the little
inner room, saying:
"I will see if there is not some way
out of our trouble."
Left alone, Zoe Freeman drew her
cloak around her and let her mind
ised wife of Leon Bartley. They had
quarreled and, in a fit of pique, she
had married Robert Freeman. Wealth
and social position had been hers, but
Freeman soon became a helpless in
valid, and life held little for her save
1
"LEON BARTLEY!"
the cares and duties of a nurse. A
year ago death had set her free.
Leon Bartley had never married.
They had met occasionally, but never
since Freeman's death.
Here her thoughts were interrupted
by the return of Bartley.
"It is as you feared. There is no
way you can reach Latimer before 5.
There are few passenger trains upon
either of these roads. I am very sorry
for your disappointment."
Her face flushed, then paled. "We
must wait with what patience we can,"
she said, unconsciously using the plu
ral.
He brought for her from the inner
room the only chair in the building.
A few moments later the station agent
said:
"I'm goin' to the house awhile."
He strode away, and they were alone.
Outside the sleet contined to fall. Zoe
turned from the dreary picture framed,
by the window with a sigh that
sounded strangely like one of con
tent.
They talked fitfully. Both avoided
referring to the past, and the present
held little in common for them. Yet
as they talked of the events of the
day, of books, and of people whom
they both knew, an unconscious change
came over them. As in the days of
old, she was aware of a tender defer
ence shown toward her, a deference
that was genuine and had in it noth
ing of patronage.
After a time Bartley glanced at his
watch and rose to his feet,
"I am going to raid the surrounding
country and see what I can do in the
way of a Thanksgiving dinner."
"Not in this storm," she cried, and
her clear dark eyes fell before hia.
"I have an umbrella. Besides I am
used to storms."
He was gone some tirae. When he
returned, she was at tbe door to meet
him.
"I see you were successful," pointing
to the bundles he carried.
He shook his head. "Yjlu will think
It a poor success.
A* the agent's aboutJ
home dirt was too plentiful. I saw
we could not think of dining there. I
made my way to another house, only
to find it locked. However, there is
a postofflce near, where the agent as
sured me I would find a 'store.' There
—well, the contents of these paper
bags will tell the story."
She laughed as merrily as a child,
and began to peer into the bags. Soon
they were seated, she in the chair, he
on the bench in front of her. Sheets
from a newspaper he happened to
have in his pocket were spread over
their laps, and on these they placed
crackers, cheese, peanuts and sticks of
red and white striped candy.
"I'm sorry," Bartley began, eyeing
the spread with evident disfavor, "but
it is the best the land affords. Here is
a part of every eatable thing in the
merchant's stock, save gum, molasses
and articles that must be cooked. It
is a poor Thanksgiving dinner to offer
you, Zoe."
The name slipped from him un
awares. She blushed and began to talk
lightly. All constraint vanished. The
Nonce
A
IS A POOR THANKSGIVING
DINNER."
burden of years seemed to have fallen
from them. Suddenly she looked up,
an arch smile curving her lips.
"Think of the tables at which we
expected to sit today. Remember the
various dclicacies, the silver, china
embroidered linen and flowers, then
note the contrast. Is not this
strange Thanksgiving?"
He leaned forward, and again her
eyes sank before his. "I remember it
all, and yet I feel like returning thanks
because I am here—with you."
Just then the station agent entered.
A freight traih came in sight and
halted. Zoe retreated to a window
while the men went out/and in the de-/
pot After a short ^Jime the train
went on, and the agent again left the
travelers alone.
Bartley came at once to her side. "In
an hour there will be a train going
back to your home. You will take it,
will you not?"
She nodded. In an hour they would
be separated. There would be noth
ing of this strange Thanksgiving day
save a memory.
He came a step closer.
"Let me go with you, Zoe."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I love you still. Neither
have you forgotten. Why should we
lose one hour of the happiness life
holds for us? We will go to your
home and this very night become hus
band and wife."
She shook her head, although she
did not draw back when he took both
her hands in his.
"No. Leon. Not today."
"Why not?"
"It's—well, it's unconventional."
He laughhed lightly, for he knew his
victory was won.
"This has been an unconventional
Thanksgiving, darling. It is a real
one, though. I never knew what the
word meant until I could give thanks
for you and your love."
Thanksgiving House Parties.
The country has its charms for not a
few Thanksgiving lovers. Country
house life has grown in popularity of
recent years. Thanksgiving house par
ties at the great country mansions on
Wednesday (Thanksgiving Eve) last
until the following Monday.
Twenty-five people at least, perhaps
thirty, are invited for these festivities.
The girls bring wardrobes. They must
have ball gowns, morning frocks and
athletic costumes. The days are de
voted to sports, the evenings to sing
ing and music. There are horses, bi
cycles and carriages for everybody.
Thanksgiving day itself is marked by
a superb dinner. A ball follows.
Servants at Thanksgiving.
In the great houses of New York the
masters and mistresses do not have all
of Thanksgiving.
It is generally felt that the servants
should have an hour or two. A special
"Servants' Thanksgiving Dinner" is
provided, generally at midday.
The family makes arrangements to
go out at this hour, so the servants
may not be called upon. The table in
the servants' hall is spread with almost
the same meal the household itself will
have.
It is a long course dinner. The but
ler takes the head of the table, the
housekeeper the foot. Between/come
the maids, the men, perhaps a dozen.
Raisin Cake.
Cream one cup of butter and two
cups of sugar. Add one cup of milk,
three eggs, two cups of raisins (stoned)
one grated nutmeg, a tablespoonful
each of grated cloves and cinnamon,
about four cups of flour, two heaping
teaspoonfuls of baking powder. Make
about as stiff as pou,nd cake.
THANKSGIVING!^
To the popular mind the woyd
"Thanksgiving" stands for a day .of
festivity. But they who lose its sub
jective meaning in mere creature en
joyment suffer a misfortune and miss
an opportunity.
To our fathers, Thanksgiving was a
sacramcnt. It was one of their acts
of religion to set apart for it an an
nual day. Heaven had blessed their
harvests, and they wished to express
in a special way appreciation of its
favors.
Nothing in their example was more
sane and sensible than the creation of
this November family custom, now be
come national. There have been
changes of our social life since the
old time. These have made it less easy
to observe the day so generally with
public rites of worship, but the ordi
nance holds its place with pleasing fit
ness, and with, ample reason.
We have a thousandfold more to be
devoutly glad for than our fathers
had and the feeling and the faith
they carried with them to the "solemn
assembly" we can radiate in brightei
homes and wider activities of kind
ness.
The unfolding Christian age has
given us the larger thought of the
meaning and mission of freedom and
of civilization the grander type and
idea of benevolence the tenderer be
liefs that sweeten life and death with
hope. For all these let us thank God.
Gratitude is not only "a natural
function of the healthy soul" it 13
its wealth. Invest it. Its interest will
enrich the character, and uplift the
whole life.
OLD-FASHIONED
CAKE.
It is the part of the good manage
ment of a good housewife to have
something on hand for emergencies.
In colonial days, when cold weather
came, a portion of the regular duty of
the housekeeper was to prepare mince
meat, head cheese, fruit cake, cookies,
jumbles and the like, and to store them
for safe keeping in huge stone pots,
with layers of buttered paper between.
These articles were very convenient in
emergencies and the only wonder is
that the present-day woman does not
provide herself with a similar stock.
The propinquity of the bake shop
and the traveling bakei's wagon have
unquestionably had much to do with
this change in the methods of house
keeping. Besides this, the making of
some old-fashioned cakes is practically
a lost art. Very few cooks can make
good jumbles and the sugar cookie,
which is the delight of the youngster,
and is perfectly harmless when prop
erly put together, is rarely found in
the average household. A recipe for
sugar cookies fished out of an old
recipe book will be appropriate to the
season and the finished product will
be highly appreciated by children of all
stages of growth. Crcem together in
a large earthen bowl two cups of gran
ulated sugar and one heaping cupful
of butter. After these ingredients have
been beaten and stirred to a cream
add one egg, beating it thoroughly
through the sugar and butter. Grate
in a quarter of a nutmeg, and if one
iiltes add also a level teaspoonful q,
caraway seeds. Gradually pour
cupful of milk, stirring gently tlir«
the mixture. Sift two and a half cup
'fuls of flour with three teaspoonfuls
of baking powder into another dish.
Gradually stir the flour into the mix
ture in the earthen bowl. If this
amount of flour does not make a paste
stiff enough to roll out, add a little
more. The paste, however, must be
soft to give them the delicacy so de
sirable. Roll the dough out a quarter
of an inch thick on a floured board,
cut with the cutter and bake in rather
a quick oven, watching closely that
they do not burn. In order to have
them crisp and snappy do not put in a
jar or box until they are quite dry
after baking.
THE FIRST THANKSG1 VINO.
The snow upon the hillside lay,
And thatched the cottage roof.
The web of vines by the Pilgrim's door
Was lilled with icy woof.
The boughs were leafless on the trees.
Across the barren plain
The north wind swept despairingly
And moaned like one in pain.
(It whimpered like some hungry child
That clasps its parent's hand
And pleads for bread when there Is none
In all the dreary land.)
Above the little Plymouth town.
Circling with empty maw.
Mocking their hunger, flew the crow.
Shrieking his "haw, haw, haw."
Patience, a blue-oyed maiden,
(Her eyes with tears were dim.)
From hunger feeble, trembling knelt:
And raised her voice to Him.
"Dear Dod." she su in pleading tones,
Tender, plaintive and sweet,
"We almost 'tarvea, an' won't 'oo please
Send down some fings to eat?"
Then all day long her watchful eyes
Gazed down the village street,
Noi uoubting but she soon would sea
Some one with "lings to eat."
Ana, lo! before the sun had set,
"With wild fowl laden down
Four hunters from the forest drear
Came marching into town.
And (as in answer tn tho prayer).
To add to all the cheer,
And banish famine frt-m the place, V:
Came Indians with deer.
The joyous villagers rushed out
The ladened ones io meet,
Eut Patience knelt and said: "Fanks. Dod
For sendln' fings to eat."
—Arthur J. Burdick.
ISL THANKSGIVING MENU.
Oysters.
Cream of Game.
Red Snapper a l'lcarienne.
Tenderloin Pique a la Provencals.
Stuffed Tomatoes., Broiled Mushroom*.
Roast Turkey.l-x
'i'Cranberry
Sause.
Cauliflower. .Stuffed Egg-plant
Saratt®a Potatoes.
Squabs en' Compote.
-Kowt Saddle of Veniton.
Macedolile SaJpd. Plum Puu
Chien, CSSMI
M0
(&S«j
The tallest man In tbo world is Lnrtl
Wilkins, a young fanner, who lives seai
St Paul, Minn. His height is 8 feet UyJ
inches.
Siberian Prisons Abolished.
Siberia is no longer to be a penal 00IJ
ony. The decree abolishing lb is the re
sult of the building of the Siberian
railroad. Nothing can compare to Mia
rapid settlement of the vast plains, un
less it be rapid growth of that famous
dyspepsia cure, Hostetter's StomacU
Bitters. Try it for constipation, indi*
gestion, dyspepsia or flatulency.
When a woman buys a new dress*
she is never happy until she gets a,
hat too. A
Beat for tlie Dowels.
No matter what alls you, headache'
to a cancer, you will never get well1
until your bowels are put right.*
CASCARETS help nature, cure you.:
without a gripe or pain, produce easy!
natural movements, cost you just 10
cents to start getting your health back.
CASCARETS Candy Cathartic, th«
genuine, put up in metal boxes, eVery)
tablet has C. C. C. stamped on it.
ware of imitations.
Women's wrongs are of more im
portance than women's rights.
4**
1
A lion always places its head neav
the ground when roaring.
Coaching I^eads to Consumption.
Kemp's Balsam will stop the coug&
at once. Go to your druggist today,
and get a sample bottle free. Sold in
25 and 50 cent bottles. Go at once
delays are dan serous.
A machine for condensing sea fog
into drinking water has been in
vented.
tadleR.
If you want a beautiful complexion,
a bright eye, a good appetite, an ao
tive liver, bowels regular as clock
work, and vigorous, healthy body, use
Morlcy's Liver and Kidney Cordial*
thi great system renovator, xt cures
all diseases to which women are sub*
ject, such as weakness, debility, mel
ancholy, nervous prostration, etc.
Sold by agent in every town.
Don't SpoU Your Clothes
By using inferior soaps. Maple City Self
Washing Soap is absolutely pure and it
guaranteed not to injure the finest fabric*.
All grocers sell it.
It may not hurt a joiie to cra-ek itr'
but some of the crackers ought to bsi
hurt.
"Gonova" Tablets are guaranteed by ibe Kldit
Drug Co., Elgin, 111., to cure nil -li: tmrt In
Uummatlons of the urinary sv?i^Ki. ,-ia
Internal with injection. Per niuJ f5, 1 *or Si
Retail and wholesale of J. It. Hurlbat Co., Det
Moines. Iowa.
A fellow who has a boil usuallyj
gets it in the neck.
A notice which attracts the atten*
tion of many sojourners in a New
Hampshire town is posted on the
wall of the little railway station,
says the Youth's Companion. The
paper on which it is printed bears
evidence of long and honorable serv
ice: "Notice—Loafing either in or
about this room is strictly forbidden
and must be observed."
A pith cloak has been invented br a'
man in Berne, Switzerland. It weighSj
only a pound, yet it will sustain a
fully equipped soldier on the surface
of the water. The garment is water
proof pockets in which food and'
driiik may be carried, as weli ays blue
lightr, in case tho wearer is ship/
wrecked in the night.
that Sun
dav. but noiv* you liked rr-y substi
tute. Mrs. Witherby—Oh, «S.- He
was fine, and I told my husband, who
didn't go, that he little knewSsJiat
he had missed.
About all that a Chinese gentleman
wants to practice the profession of
medicine is to declare himself a doc
tor, and go to work curing or killing
people, as the case may be, at the
rate of about 2 cents per visit. If
patient persists in dying in spite of
the drugs and incantations presented
by his Celestial physician, it is no
fault of the doctor.
The BufEalo Bird Protective So^
ciety defends the English sparrow,
ascribing to the birds the disappear*
ance from that vicinity of the cankt
er worm.
ABSOLUTE!
SECURITY.
Genuine
Carter's
Little Liver Pills.
Must Bear Signature of
See
Fac-Sbmlle Wrapper Bdow.
T«r ••all
m»A •—7
totakeasrasnw
F01IIEAOAGBE*
FOR DIZZINESS. .v
FDS BlUOIISIESSa
FDR TORPID LIVER.
FOR C0MSHPATI0I*
FOR SALLOW SKIR.
FOR THEC0MPLEXI01
MmtRS
omnm
isCMts I Purely
CURE SICJC HEADACHE.
55
....<p></p>PATENTS and (ret fre»opmion.
NIIL.O B. STEVENS & CO., Estab. UM.
tiv.
WITHOUT F:
nAlentuccMOl
Send description1loai
9 MTL.O R. STKVTINX A
2, 817—14th Street,
-Iptiont
WASHINGTON, D, C«
Branch offices: Chicago, Cleveland
and Detroit.
DON'T STOP TOBACCO SUDDENLY^
It Injures nervous system to do so. B/
CUrtU Is the only euro that REAL'
id notifies you when to stop. Sold
larantee that three boxes will cure anj
LfHIQIl Is vegetable and harmless.
cured thousands. It will oural
At all druggists or by mAll prepaid, tl
boxes $2.50. Booklet free, write
EUREKA CHEMICAL CO., La CreM»~«n«
•.£ *J?1® discoveryUiatnablM
latfnoe tin brpootlo »leip ta aw
•wakm at any dettrcd tune and ttxrcbr
vaowndl«e*w*aadbad
habltaTlar —r
to thetflMtreafnttantlral
ol their dnanu, Mad tb* Biloda
lemlea, vlalt aar part of tM £ai
uuUonaandproblemala UKaHeMT
1
*5S".,lr'll£e- Tlitaao-evieorafc

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