The Lafayette gazette. [volume], September 09, 1893, Image 1

About The Lafayette gazette. [volume] (Lafayette, La.) 1893-1921

Image provided by: Louisiana State University; Baton Rouge, LA

                
THE LAFAYETTE GAZETTE.
VOLUME I. . LAFAYETTE, LA., SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 1893. NUMBER 27.
WHEN MOTHER .GETS HOME.
When mother gets home, oh. listen to the
laughter
Of the lisping little ones that gather al about
With chabby feet and dimpled arms kept busy
climbing after
The blessings and caressings thaka mother's
love deals out.
Cooing
This is
Wooing
Kisses
From the endless treasure
Of those velvet lips of here, sweet as honel
comb.
IBaby
Lingers,
May be
Fingers
All the matchless measure
Of her wealth of tresses, when mother gets
home.
When mother gets home, all the hoes is
strangely quiet.
In the shadow of the silence sits the dear old
vacant chair.
Above it, on the parlor wall, a picture hangs,
while nigh it
Are poor dumb lips, that falter at the thresh
old of a prayer.
Children
Faces,
Drilled in
Graces,
Look so worn and weary
Look so wan and weird-like in the .awful
. gloom.
Rather
Lonely,
Father
Only
Says: "While our hearts are dreary
The angels will be happier, when mother gets
home."
-Alfred Ellison, in Chicago News.
HE major and
I had just fin
ishled dinner
at the major's
club. He was
a bluff old fel
1 low of fifty,
with piercing
gray eyes, a
. military bear
b ing, and a
wealth of red
complexion; in
short, just such a man as you would
address, instinctively, as "Major."
We pulled tentatively at the cigars
until satisfied of their excellence.
Then I asked the major what had be
come of his two nephews, of whom he
used to tell me so much. He indulged
in some reminiscent chuckles, and said:
"Well, well! So I never told you
how they settled down? Quite a fam
ily affair it was. Let me ree-um
when you last heard of the boys, Lee,
the elder, was drinking very hard.
"Where the fellow even got his ap
petite for liquor no one knows, but he
had it, and it was appalling, and there
did not seem to be any way of spoiling
it for him. He was one of the bright
est boys I ever knew, one of these
plausible, ingratiating scamps that
you can't help but like, and wish you
could. George was just the opposite, a
quiet, studious sort of a chap, who kept
to himself, mostly. Somehow, he never
seemed to get along with people the
way Leq did- he didn't have that
bright sort of tact that makes youdg
men agreeable and taking. He didn't
care any more for society than society
cared for him; the two weren't suited to
each other; all he wanted was to be let
alone. The boy was all right at bot
tom, as he's shown since; but the per
son to draw him out hadn't come along
yet.
"Well, four years ago this fall, there
came to the house one day a hundred
and twenty pounds of as pretty, blue
eyed meekness as you ever saw. It was
the daughter of a sort of second cousin
of brother Ed's and mine. Her parents
were dead, and Ed was her guardian,
so she came here to live. She was one
of this little, canary-bird sort of girls.
"At the time she arrived. Lee was
just a little this side of delirum tre
mens,. and I really believe she staved
'em off. Julie was her name. She
hadn't been in the house two weeks
before everybody was in love with her,
including both of the boys. It was the
most astonishing thing in the world,
the way she drew that fellow George
out. From being moody and self-con
tained, he just expanded into as jovial
and agreeable a young man as you'd
wish to meet. Julie and he seemed to
take to each other from the start. I
can tell you, old boy, to see them to
gether, with so much confidence and
good vill between 'em, and so much of
something else that seemed too big' to
express-well, sometimes it made me
feel that possibly I'd missed something
in life by knocking around single.
"But, however-well, Lee didn't get
along so well with Julie. When he
was sober, and devoted himself to her,
he seemed to sort of awe her, don't you
know-she wasn't free and happy as
she was with George, but always re
strained, and half afraid of him. But
they were both dead in love with her,
and each-ivas determined to have her.
"Now, jou would have thought that
_ .:mn' his wife would have put their
- fgLuence .on George's side, wouldn't
"'',: yo Not a bit ef it. They wanted
-__.to marry Lee, and why? Because
. Z v told her she was the one person
*"'-Mio could reform him-save him from
'i.;drunkard's grave, you know, and
t'i1that rot. Vell. I'm blamed if they
didn't hornaswoggle the girl into say
ing she would marry him. He. had
grace enough to take it with a good
deal of shameb-facedness, and she
well, she looked as if she hadn't a
friend left on earth. But they had
dinned her so much about her duty
and what a man she could make of
Lee that she didn't have nerve enough
to come out flat-footed and say no.
"One evening George came to me,
down-hearted-looking as could be, and
wanted I should take dinner with him
down town. F knew how he was feel
ing and thought I might chirk him up
a bit, possibly, so we had dinner to
gether. Long before we'd finished I
could see he'd some new purpose in his
head, and finally out he came with it.
Me6SYSa
"`Uncle, how drunk rasy a gentle
man get?
"Well, I told him a gentleman was
all right so long as he could apologize
for his condition.
"Then he wanted to know if cham
pagne was a good way of reach ineg
limit. I hadn't quite got him yet; ist
I warned him against champagne, of
course-told him it was too liable to
carry him past the station-and that
straight whisky was the only trust
worthy beverage where-a man started
soberly out to get drunk.
"He laughed a little and said he be
lieved he'd been missing some fun.
"I met George again that night, about
one o'clock it was, and he was drunk.
Well, you can imagine how the thing
shocked me, because when a fellow of
his quiet nature takes too much, you
know it means something. I saw then
why he had questioned me as he
did. The strain upon him, his disap
pointment at losing the girl, had made
him reckless, and he'd taken this way
to throw it off. I tried to get him home
with me, but he would*e' have it. He
said there was something wrong about
the limit of inebriety I had set, because,
while he was still able to apologize for
his condition, he had lost all desire to
do so. I wasn't really much alarmed,
because I thought one nightof it would
settle him. It didn't, though. - He was
at it again next day, and the next.
"There was a pretty row on whenhis
father and mother heard of it. But that
didn't worry hinm any. He kept it ug
like an old rounder. I've known him
to get two policemen drunk in one night
-miserable judge of whisky he was,
too.
"It soon seemed inevitable that the
family was to produce two highly sun
cessful drunkards, and then it became
a'question of which one the girl stood
the best chance of saving.
"While Ed and his wife were debat
ing over it, it came to Julie's mind one
day that, for one of the interested par
ties, she wasn't having much voice is
the matter. One morning, without say'
ing anything to anyone, she locked
George in his room and fed him on milli
toast and Apollinaris water all day.
Toward night she let him out. He gave
her to understand that his craving foe
strong drink was next thing to uncon
trollable and that she had got to marry
him; otherwise he could never conquer
it. She said she would marry him when
he kept sober six months, regardless of
what his father and mother might say.
It seems she had a will of her own, only
she had to cry a good deal t4 get it in
working order.
"You can imagine how anxiously we
all watched George, and what a relies
it was to every one, when he began tc
show that he had conquerei his appe
tite for too much whisky.
"lie finished out his period of proba
tion soberly, and the weddir g came off
The day before, he said to me: 'Well
uncle, it's pretty tough when a mar
has to make a reprobate of himself be
fore he can marry the woman he loves
but 1 think I did tolerably welL'
"'I think you did, my boy,' I said,
'considering your lack of natural qual
ifications; but I don't see that you were
forced into it.'
"'Yes; but I was,' he said. 'Lee
drank hard, and every one, even my
own people, said what a bright fellow he
could be if hd would only let liquor alone,
then they gave him the girl I loved
SHE FED HIM ON MILK TOAST AND A-s
POLINARIS WATER.
because I didn't happen to be a drunk
ard. I just thought I'd see if whisky
straight, as you called it, wouldn't
bring my merits out into a little strong
er relief.'
"" Then you didn't have a strong appe
tite for liquor.' I asked him.
"'Not a bit of it,' he said. 'I found
hard drinking to be hard work; and, to
tell the truth about it, that last month
of my brief career as a dipsomaniac was
a fake. I just kept out late and lit'
tered my room up with empty bottles.
But he swore me to secrecy. And to
this day they all think Julie plucked
him from the burning."
"And what became of Lee after his
brother's marriage?" I asked.
"Well, now, do you know that's the
funny part. of it. As soon as George
started in, Lee became alarmed about
him, and in his efforts to keep George
sti'aight he got to keeping sober him.
self. George's misdeeds seemed to open
his eyes and give him a disgust for that
sort of thing. He straightened up and
married-an old flame of his who'd jilted
him when he first began to get wild.
They're both heads of families now."
H. L. Wilson, in Puck.
An Error Retlied.
Fortune Teller (examining Teacad.
dy's hand)-It's no use pretending you
will live to be an old man. Your line
of life shows you will die before you
are forty. You will be very successful.
etc., etc. (Prates glibly for five min
utes.) And now as to wedding. You
will get married in your thirty-fiftb
year, and have fifteen children.
Teacaddy-How the deuce can that
happen? You said just now that I
should not live to be forty!
Fortune Teller (seeing he has put his
foot in it)-Ah, yes, so I did-and
ahem-it's very true. You see--ahem
the fact is-ahem-that you will--nm,
um, ahem-will marry a widow witb
thirteen!-Pick-Me- U p.
I-"Pay as you go" and saes enoug.
to come back on.-Galveston News.
THE FARMING WORLM.
LOCATION OF ROADS.
Sln Importsant Poins That Ie RBeen Over.
looked Entirely.
Roads should be placed on a dead
level, if possible, and where impossible
then on the easiest grade obtainable.
No doubt nearly every one who has
traveled through the country has ob
served many places where the roads
run over hills, high and low, big and
little, steep and slant, when they could
just as well run through valleys,
around the hills, or along the ridges.
Of course, there are some parts of the
country so flat and level that these re
marks do not apply to them, but there
are many, very many, where they do.
I give two examples taken from one of
the most public roads in Ohio.
Here the distance from a to f is about
three miles. In Fig. 1 the lower line
represents the present direction of the
road, Fig. 2 is a perpendicular section
of the road as it now runs, showing the
hills in the route, c, d anaW e, being
severally about 100, 150 and 125 feet
high. The only hill in the way where
the road ought to be is b. whose ascent
could be made very easy and the de
scent so gradual as to be but little more
than perceptible.
These figures represent only about
one mile of road. As in the former
case, the lower line of Fig. i represents
the road as it is, and the upper, where
it ought to be. Fig. 2 represents the
hills, b c, d and e, as now encopn
tered. and though they are not very
high nor steep, yet all of them might
be avoided but b, by placing the road
on the upper line, and in approaching
it it would have as good a grade as it
now has.
Now my proposition implies this:
Close up all unnecessary roads; change
all existing roads before any more
a /
FIRST EXAMPLE.
work is done on them to better loca
tions, if possible; and put all new roads,
needed, on the levelest and best grades
obtainable. Of course, there is included
in this that all roads shall be as direct
and, therefore, as short between ob
jective points, avoiding as many crooks
and turns and angles, as the above con
ditions will justify; and also, if said
conditions will admit of it, that all
roads shall run on section and farm
lines. Now why should we contend for
this proposition?
(I) Roads are made to be permanent.
We are traveling the same roads our
fathers and grandfathers made and
used perhaps nearly a century ago. No
thought was entertained by them then
but that these roads would remain as
long as time would last. Now if roads
are made to be permanent, is it not
clear that they should have the best
location possible? And if our fathers,
made a mistake in putting them where
they did, and therefore suffered great
disadvantages and loss and entailed
that suffering upon us, does it not for
cibly argue that we should hasten to
correct their error that we and our
posterity may have the benefit to ac
crue?
(2) Our proposition would save dis
tance and time. A team can travel
much more rapidly over a level road
than over a hilly one, and in every ease
where distance is shortened time is
gained. That time is shortened by avoid
ing the hills is true as a general state
ment. In the examples I have given, and
in every case I now think of, the level
routes would be the shorter. Indeed,
it is like going twelve or fifteen miles
to get ten, not by going around curves
and angles on the same level, but going
up and down, which is much harder.
And if the distance were not shortened
much, it is very probable that it would
not be any greater, on the principle
that a kettle bail is no longer lying
down than it is standing up and the
greater ease afforded team and vehicles
and the time saved by greater speed
would make great gain.
(3) WVe would save draught, and
therefore wear and tear of horse flesh
and of vehicles. A wagon on the level,
could all friction and the opposition of
the atmosphere be removed, would
when started run of itself till it was
stopped; but when a hill came in the
way, the wagon and its load would
have to be lifted as high as the hill.
Now the work of the team attached to
the load is to overcome only this fric
tion and opposition of the atmosphere
on the level road, but when it reaches
the hill there is added the burden of
lifting the load to the hill-top. But
this lifting is lessened in proportion to
the degree of inclination of the hill,
SaCOxN EXALPLE.
thus: The team must bear the same
ratio to its load that the height of the
hill bears to the length of the inclina
tion of the hill. Hence, a team pulling
a load weIghing 400 pounds, when it
comes to a hill 100 feet high with an in
clination of 800 feet, has added to its
burden 500 pounds which it mast lift to
the top of the hill. Or, we may state
it according to the law of mechanics,
thus:
As the team, or power, is to the load
I wght, so is the height of the hill to
the length of inclination of the hill.
Or P: 4,000 :: 100 : 800.
And this same ratio must obtain no
difference how heavy the load or how
high the hill. But a hill raisaa a461
one foot in height is a very fiat hill;
many are as one to four, or as steep
again, and would therefore place twice
the weight on the horses; hence, in the
above instance, their burden would be
increased by one thousand pounds.-B.
Asbury, in Ohio Farmer.
GARDEN STEP LADDER.
No General Freit Grower Can Get Along
Without One.
In the vegetable garden there may
be no need of a step ladder, unless you
live in one of those western or southern
sections where the people claim that
the ears on their corn grow so high
that they are beyond reach from the
ground. The general fruit grower,
however, cannot get along without lad
ders of all kinds, and especially not
without a good, easily-transported step
ladder, such as W. F. MeCullock, of
Sterling, Va., has sketched and de
scribed. Take two light wheels. such
as are found on a sulky plow, for in
stance. Bolt spindles on a 4x4 inch
stick of the desired length. Bolt 2x3
inch pieces to the 4x4 axle, and to the
ladder at the top. Brace well, and put
on handles to make a kind of push eart
or wheelbarrow of it, and the thing is
done. If you have peach, plum
or pear trees, you will need a step lad
der very soon. Some of these trees now
promise to set fruit very abanadantly.
Don't leave it all on, but rather take
an early opportunity and remove, by
picking or knocking off, from one-half
to four-fifths of all the specimens, and
thus secure the full development and
highest quality of the remaining spec
imens. All fruit growers whose fruit
has made a reputation for them by its
size, high color and fine quality, prac
tice not only thinning in general, but
thinning quite severely, and every one
who loves really choice fruit, and cares
little for a large number of under-sized,
ill-looking and ill-tasting fruits, can do
no better than to follow in the foot
steps of the successful commercial
growers like the Hales, of the Wooden
Nutmeg state.-Practical Farmer.
FARM DAIRYING.
Select Good Cows and Raise Good Corn
for Soiling.
There are a good many requirements
for success in managing a farm dairy,
says a writer in Practical Farmer. It is
saving the little wastes which puts the
balance on the right side of the ac
count at the end of the year. Select
cows which will test five per cent. fat
in the milk, of whatever breed you
choose, and use only full-blood sires,
and you will soon have cows which will
do their part toward placing the bal
ance on the profitable side. Give them
good food 865 days in the year and
plenty of pure water. Provide good
pasture in summer and some good soil
ing crops.to feed when the pasture com
mences to dry up in early autumn. For
a soiling crop I consider corn the
best and cheapest. I give them six
hills of corn each day after they have
become accustomed to it. For my
earliest soiling I use Early Cory corn
planted in hills two and a half by two
and a half feet apart. It matures suffi
ciently for feeding in about sixty days
from the time of planting and is good
for table use as well as for cow feed.
Estimate the amount of it you will
need for three weeks' feeding. Plant
enough Early Minnesota sweet corn for
the next three weeks and enough Main
moth Sweet to last until winter. Only
a small percentage of the dairymen of
the country realize the value of osweet
corn as a food for milk cows. For win
ter feed I consider ensilage valuable,
furnishing cheap and succulent food.
Plant for ensilage the largest growing
variety of corn which will mature in
your locality. Raise as much of your
grain feed on the farm as possible and
feed a good grain ration during the
winter.
THE CHISEL WEEDER.
An Emclent Instrument for Removing
Large Weeds.
In times of drought, it is often diffi
cult to remove large weeds from among
the rows of plants. An ordinary two
L
WEEDING CHISELS.
inch wood chisel, kept well sharpened,
is one of the most efficient instruments
for this purpose, as the keen edge and
the weight of the chisel will cut
through the most fibrous weed. With
a short handled chisel, one must kneel
or bend over, and the resulting back
aches are far from satisfactory. Tihe
accompanying illustration from a
sketch by J. L. Townsend, of Utah,
shows how such a weeding chisel can
be inserted in a long hoe or fork han
dle, and it is then feasible to stand up
while fighting the weeds, which often
grow faster than one man can pull
them by hand. Narrow hand hoes or
the tomahawk or arrow head hoes may
do good service, but they cannot comr*
pete with a long handled weeding
chisel in the hands of a vigorous gar
dener. The chisel is especially adapted
to the weeding of sugar beets and
other root crops in weedy or dried-out
soil.-American Agriculturist.
The Temperature oft Cream.
The best of cream mny be spoiled in
the churn by too much cold or heat, and
by over churning. The intelligent use
of a churn thermometer that may be
bought for from .5 to .50 pents will reg
ulate all troubles from these pcauses,
and thereby greatly lighten one of the
most laborious operations of the farm
ho-me
BANGS' LITTLE SCHEME.
it Would Have Worked An Bight Wad WIe
Wife Carried Out Her Part. 4
Bangs was anxious to join a party of
night owls for a Saturday night's frolic
in the city a few weeks ago.
Just what excuse to make to his wife
puzzled him. Bangs has a beautiful
summer home in the country within
an hour's ride of his office. Bangs and
I were schoolboys together. I am a
frequent visitor at his home. Bangs
had an idea; he thought of me.
"I say, old chap," said he, when we
met, "I want you to do me a big favor.
You see, I have-that is I-well, I have
some business on hand that will keep
me in the city until late to-night. Now,
I want you to entertain Lucy while I
am away. She'll be so lonesome, you
know. She wants to go to the theater.
Suppose you telegraph her that you
have tickets. Tell her to meet you at
the Grand Central depot. Take her to
dinner, the theater and to supper after
ward. Be sure you catch the midnight
train, though. I'll foot the bills."
And then the villain confessed. "Just
a little lark," he said. "Lucy'd give
me fits if she knew. I'm played out for
excuses. But this, I know, will work
admirably. I'll go home now asa bluff.
Then I'll be there when she receives
your telegram and urge her to go. I'll
be greatly surprised, too. Change will
do her good, and all that. I'll stay
home and mind the house. D'ye see?
"Then I'll go out for a walk. She will
not wait for my return, but will go
right to the depot. Of course I'll be in
the city before she is. I'll return on
the eleven o'clock train, jump into bed,
and pretend to be asleep when she
comes in. I'll even matters up with her
the next day by a gentle scolding for
staying out so late. She'll let up on
me then for my past misdeeds."
I agreed. The telegram was sent.
Bangs went home and returned to the
city as agreed upon. The scheme was
working beautifully until I received
this dispatch:
Sorry, can't co je. Lict.
Shortly before midnight Bangs
poor, deluded Bangs!-opened the gate
There was a light in his front parlor,
but fe failed to notice it. "My sweet
heart's the man in the moon," he war
bled as he opened the front door.
He gave a start. His cigar dropped
from his fingers. "'I-I thought"-he
gasped. Before him, like an avenging
Nemesis, stood his wife.
"I don't think I know," said Mrs.
Bangs, and the look she gave Bangs
nearly froze all the blood in his veins.
I never could get Bangs to tell me
just what happened afterward. Mrs.
Bangs, however, informed me on the
following Sunday when I called that
"that night is a subject I do not care
to discuss."-N. Y. Herald.
RIGHT OR LEFT HAND.
Reasons for Giving to the Latter Some of
the Honor Paid to the Former.
The despised left hand makes good
.ts claims in many cases to be the
defter of the two. The fingers that
touch and adjust with such nicety the
strings of the violin are surely as cun
ning as those that move the bow. The
hand that guides the reins and steers
with exactness the horse through the
crowded streets is quite as cunning as,
one might say much more than, the
hand that wields the whip. But great
is fashion, unanswerable is theory. It
would appear that as life becomes more
and more complex we are becoming
more and more specialized, and
the difference between our limbs is
encouraged, rather than hindered, by
every pair of scissors turned off at Shef
field, by every screw made in Birming
ham and by every slap administered to
the young offending fingers that would
dare to shake hands incorrectly.
It is curious to note the vagaries of
humanity in cases where no hard and
fast line has already been drawn. Al
though most right-handed persons put
on their coats left arm first, a consider
able percentage thrust in the right
first. Soldiers fire from the right shoul
der, but sportsmen are found who pre
fer the left. In working with the spade
a proportion of right-handed men grasp
the spade with the left and push with
left foot and right hand; though, when
using an ax, the same individuals would
grasp furthest down the right. The
Persians mount their horses from the
right side, which is the different side
from that mounted by Europeans.
The buttons on coats, etc., are placed
on the right side and the shed of the
hair in boys to the left evidently to suit
manipulation by the right hand. The
great philosopher Newton records that
at first he confined his astronomical ob
servations to his right eye, but after
ward he managed to train his left. But
there are persons who could not do
this, owing to the unequal strength of
their eyes. Strange to say, the Chinese
assign the place of honor to the left.
At Kunyenye, in Africa, Cameron re
lates being introduced to the heir pre
sumptive to the throne, the nails of
whose left hand had been allowed to
grow to an enormous length as a sign
of high rank, proving that he was never
required to perform manual labor, and
also providing him with the means of
tearing the meat which formed his
usual diet.-Chambers' Journal.
No Fowethought.
Mr. WVavback-Some folks ain't got
sense enough to come in when it rains.
Did you see that long-haired chap with
his arms full o' bundles?
Mrs. WVayback-No; who?
Mir. WVayback-Don't know; but he is
down there at the old pond paintin' a
picture of that tumble-down mill. He
might know that mill wasn't built
right, er it wouldn't a' been allowed
to go to rack and ruin. Now I s'pose
he'll go off an' put up one just like it,
and lose every cent he's got.-N. Y.
Weekly.
An Important Matter.
Doctor-Now, here is a bottle of fine
whisky, and I want you to take a ta
blespoon of it every morning before
breakfast.
Patient---Doe, I'm in the habit of
taking about a mule's ear full of the
stuff at exactly that time of the day.
Is this spoonful to be added to the reg
ular a lowance?-Detroit Free Press.
DOMESTtC CONCERNS.
-Ginger Beer: Use five gallons of
water, one-half pound of ginger-root
boiled, four pounds sugar, one-eighth
pounid cream of tartar, one bottle es
sence of lemon, one ounce of tartaric
acid and one quart of yeast.-Prairie
Farmer.
-Graham Gruel: Mix one tablespoon
ful of graham meal in four tablespoon
fuls of cold water: cook twenty min
utes, then stir in half a teaspoonful of
salt and cook ten minutes longer. Put
a gill of this gruel into a cup,with half
as much cream or milk, and serve hot.
-Housekeeper.
-Ginger Snapsabne teacupful of
butter and lard mixed, two teacupfuls
molasses, an even teaspoonful soda dis
solved in one-half teacupful boiling
water, one tablespoonful ginger and a
teaspoonful cinnamon. Add flour to
roll out thin, place not too close to
gether in a greased pan and bake to a
nice brown.-Orange Judd Farmer.
-Quail on Toast: Take a quail, split
it down the back, remove the entrails
and wipe it clean; after dredging with
salt, boil ten minutes over a clear fire.
Serve at once on a slice of toast, laying
the quail on the toast breast up. A
little butter may be spread on the bird
before broiling, and flour sprinkled on
it, if the invalid is not very sick.
Housekeeper.
-Gooseberry Tam: To every quart
of gooseberries use a pound of loaf su
gar; put the sugar in a preserving
pan with enough water to dissolve it,
boil and skim it well, then put in the
berries; let them boil ten minutes,
then set away until next day; then
boil until they look clear and the sirup
is thick; then turn into glasses and
cover with brandy papers.
-Steamed Indian Pudding: One
pint milk; two eggs. one and a half
cups Indian meal; two small table
spoonfuls beef suet; two tablespoon
fuls molasses; half-teaspoonful each of
cinnamon and ground ginger; salt
spoonful salt; pinch of soda. Heat the
milk boiling hot; add the soda and pour
upon the meal. Stir well; add the suet,
powdered, and the salt. When this
Tnixture is cold, put with it the eggs,
beaten light, the mollasses and spices,
and beat all hard. Turn into a well
greased mold and steam four hours.
Eat with hard sauce.-Outlook.
-Pressed Chicken: Take a large
plump chicken; wipe well with a damp
towel, put in a kettle, and cover with
water. Place over a moderate fire, and
let simmer gently until very tender.
When done take the meat from the
bones and cut in small pieces. Put the
bones and scraps back into the kettle
and let boil until the liquid is thick;
strain, and season with salt and pep
per. Arrange the chicken in a square
tin mold, pour the liquid over, place a
light weight on top, pd stand in a
cold place over night. When cold and
firm, turn out of the mold, garnish
with slices of lemon and parsley. Serve
in thin slices.--Harper's Bazar.
The Revlval of Brown.
As if in protest against the blue serge
frocks that are so generally popular,
there is a sudden return to brown
shades of serge, sacking or whip-cord
for the tailor gown which women of
fashion provide at this season of the
year for the cool days that are sure to
come at the seashore or in the moun
tains. The tobacco shades known as
Havana-brown are used in preference
to the chocolate tints of last year, and
these sober gowns are most severely
fashioned in long coats without trim
ming, and a well-cut skirt equally
plain. The coat falls almost to the
knee, and opens with very simple revers
on a waistcoat of tan owhite duck, or
of the spotted vesting of mixed silk
and wool used by men. A linen
chemisette with tucked front and
rolled-over collar is worn with a nar
row black tie of satin tied in a small
bow. A small turban of coarse brown
straw with ccru satin choux and wings
or quills is a suitable hat with this
dress when the broad-brimmed sailor
hat is not becoming. The marquise
hat of black amour tress, or else of
rice straw with simple trimming, is
also appropriate, and may have a bit
of green introduced. Tan-colored Suede
gloves and low tan shoes with stock
ings to match complete the costume.-.
Harper's Bazar.
Inexpensive MIats.
For a series of pretty mats fine white
shirting linen is selected, the delign
being transferred by using transfer
paper. This is worked solidly in
smooth satin stitch with two threads
of white noselle. Use one thread of
golden yellow silk for outlining the
whole design, with the same for stem
work or for feather edge around the
circle. These designs are suitable also
for silk or velvet to use under vases or
bric-a-brac. Fine twisted silk is used
for the embroidery, with gold thread
for stems; or, if a more elegant effect
is desired, bullion and gold thread may
be used with good effect. This makes
a pretty accompaniment to a handsome
vase or a Christmas gift-the mat to be
of heavy silk. The delicate colors of
the vase may be carried out in the
coloring of the design.--St. Louis Re
public.
Modlish Ideas.
Skirts covered with ruffles from hem
to waist line are much liked.
Children have something new in the
great white cape bonnets of late, with
colored ribbon trimmings. These bon
nets are quaint and charming to look
at, but no one will be able to see the
baby inside.
In millinery black hats for the
moment dominate the mode. Some at
tractive black chip hats are trimmed
witia fine imitation of old point lace
variously arranged on brim and crown.
Yellow flowers, also petunlacolor
blooms, are effective additions to such
hatas
Large picture hats of leghorn will be
worn with the black satin gowns,
which are again in high favor. Three
cornered or revolutionary hats are
much worn this summer; and, suitably
chosen, trimned, and worn, are be
Ioming.--Chioago MLail
PITH AND POINT.
-"'Why did cholly sell his bird dog
and get that silly little pup?" Estelle
-"He wanted him just for company I
suppose."-Inter Ocean. \
-Aunt---"Well, Bobby, what do you
want to be when you grow up?" Bobby
(remembering private seance in the
woodshed)-"An orphan."
-Tommy-"Paw, why do they al
ways make the picturesof Father Time
so lean?" Mr. Figg-"So he will rep
resent spare time; of course."-Indi
anapolis Journal.
-Unfortunately Expressed.-Maude
-"Yes, I am obliged to have my shoes
made to order. My left foot is larger
than my right." Ethel--"Is it possi
ble?"-Boston Transcript. .
-He--"What kind of a story did that
tramp trump up to get his breakfast?"
She-"None at all. He said he'd seen a
good many babies, but our Teddy was
ahead of them all."-Inter-Ocean.
-From Lack of Exercise.-Askcn-
"What kind of a fellow is Dumleigh?"
Tell-"WVell, Dumleigh is a fellow who,
if he were to think twice before he
spoke, would lose the use of his voice."
-Puck.
-Probably'an Exaggeration.-Snooks
-"What makes you so glum? You say
her father did all he could to hasten
your suit." Sledgeby-"You do not
seem to realize that I was in the suit at
the time."-Truth.
-Mrs. Hicks--"A man was here to
day who gets a living by reading the
hands. lie wanted four dollars." Hicks
-'Some swindler, wasn't he?" Mrs.
Hicks-"Yes; he read the hands on our
gas meter."-N. Y. Times.
-Animal Life. - Doolittle Goode
"HIow did you spend your vacation?"
Somers Holliday--"Oh, I led a dog's
life!" Doolittle Goode - "No! What
did you do?" Somers Holliday-"Lay
around and slept."-Puck.
-"Do I make myself plain?" asked
the angular lecturer on woman's rights,
stopping in the middle of her discourse.
"You don't have to, mum," replied a
voice from the rear; "the Lord done it
for you long ago."-Vogue.
-Mr. Mix (reading a headline from
the newspaper)--"lIe jumps into the
water and saves her life." Mrs. Mix
"A truly noble husband." Mr. Mix
"Great Scott, Maria, what an old fogy
you are! It wasn't his wife."-N. Y.
Times.
-Senior Varden-"I see that Mush
room college has just made Rev. 2Mr.
Prosy a D.D. As he is now a doctor I
wonder what kind of medicine he will
dispense to his parishioners." Senior
Deacon-"O, anodynes, the same as
usual."-N. Y. Tribune. -
.-Boerum(doing his best to make a
favorable impression, has just finished
his best anecdote)-"Ha! ha! ha! That's
a pretty good story, now." Miss
Acres-"Yes, I think so, too. And
they say poor Uncle Phil, who was
killed at Gettysburg, never tired of
hearing it."-Life's Calendar.
-The addresses of a young man hav
ing been declined by a 'young lady, lie
paid court to her sister. "How much
you resemble your sister," said he, the
evening of the first call. "You have
the same hair, the same forehead, and
the same eyes-" "And the same
nose!" she added quickly.-Tit-Bits.
ADVENTURE IN A BALLOON.
Galbriel's Trumpet Awakens a Village from
Its Peaceful Slumlers.
It was indeed the fierce bluster of
the gale tearing its way through leaf
and branch that we heard. If the bal
loon should dash against the hedge of
spears ambushed there, it would be not
only wreck, but the sharpest peril of
life. "We .must trust to luck," said
Donaldson, grinding his teeth; "we
can't do anything. But be ready to
spring for a big limb and hold on for
dear life when I give the word."
We were not long in suspense. The
downpour suddenly lessened, and our
balloon rose a little. It still thundered
and lightned, but the rage of the storml
had spent itself. The captain clutched
my hand with a hard grip. "W1e're all
right now." with a quiver in his voice,
for his iron nerve had been shaken;
"but let me tell you, you will never be
so near death again and escape it."
lie bent over the side of the basket.
"I think there's a village close at hand.
Look sharp and you will see the twin
kle of a light down there." And it was
so, surely. As we moved on more lights
shot into view. We were hovering over
a valley between two mountain ridges,
one of which had been so nearly our
ruin. It was an hour after midnight
and the villagers were asleep. Donald
son's gaiety frothed like champagne
after our recent danger. "We'll wake
the people from their dreams with a
blast from the skies " He laughed and
seized a bugle which hung near at
hand. "How's this for Gabriel's horn?"
He blew notes of piercing sweetness (he
had been an army bugler), which rose
and swelled and sent their wild echoes
flying among those midnight hills.
Lights began to shine in every
house, and moving lanterns and the
clatter of voices betokened a general
alarm. What this 9nidnight summons
out of the skies might mean filled the
rural fancy with terror, and the note of
fear could be heard in many of the
voices which floated up to us. We were
so near the earth that we could hear
the drag-rope slapping the sticks and
stones with its tail.
"Village aho-o-oy!" whooped the cap
tain at the top of his lungs. "Aho-o-oy
there! Bear a hand, you land-lubbers,
at the rope and pull us down to earth!"
So our rustle friends, with a hearty
cheer, tumbled over each other in their
zeal to get hold of the rope-fearow
blown away by admirationad
were soon safely on the gro -'
our air-ship anchored for the
Chicago Mail.
The .esser Wea4  ,
"I told you," said the teacher apolo--
getically to Tommy, '"that I should
whip you if you did not tell your fa
ther you had run away-i'oi sehool,
didn't Ii"'
"That's all right," responded Thom
as. "I didn't tell him. One of your
lickin's is a plcnic by the side of one q6
ded'ce"-quip -
.-,