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H LAFAYETTE GAZETTE.
VOLUME I. LAFAYETTE, LA., SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 1893. NUMBER 29. But, nec J Pere the r bcoked~soiitary '"ho loth S lookedsolitary spel enough, set by pan itself on the great level prairie. Some- Uni how, its isolation struck the rider ap- frie proaching it with a new sense, of the tll loneliness of these wester- rldis. -he- P° was a young man, with a anbrowned con * face, light brown beard, and long wo wavy hair of_ the same color, tangled gu his broad-brimmed, gray felt hat. The hea rest of his costume-a gray belted aug jacket and breeches, with the revolver a at his belt-gavehim a sort of guerrilla fate aspect far from unbecoming. But his agA features were unmistakably English, A and the clear brown eyes looked hon- and est and kindly notwithstanding their see someWhat despondent expression. and life some traces of a "hard life." woI * , ed Carew, in short, was a type of ma mnany, a young Englishman driven into the the perilous Influences of a Wild, rough e life, partly through his own fault, ges partly through that of others. .Tust Pu then he was undergoing one of those tal occasional "spells" of homesickness. of I generally associated with such days of th enervating heat, when the great plain seemed to pant, almost breathless, Pa " under the sun's untempered glare. des As he drew near the ranch for which ha4 he was bound, his eye was caught by a the sight unseen for years-that of a grace- oh ful figure in an English riding habit- l0o a .sight associated with some of the ien pleasantest and most painful memories e of his life. The lady sat her horse well, as he could see at a glance. Who s could she be? On the former occasion m when he had visited the ranch, on busi- an ness with its inmates, these were two an young men, living in a rough bachelor t way. He had not heard of the mar- bu riage of either, and he had not dreamed of meeting a lady now. As he watched t her ride up to the door his glance strayed critically over his dusty attire. 1 He even thought of turning away to seek the nearest village. Put curiosity P0 prevailed over this new-born shyness. co As he fastened his horse near the id house, his quick eye noticed that aP handsome elderly lady, who sat at an be open window knitting, turned to call ie to some one one within. At the open door he he was met by a tall girl, whom he m recognized at once as a lady, despite the the linen apron which completely enveloped a her dress, and the partially rolled-up n sleeves which betokened some house hold occupation. She had a dignified bearing, a finely-proportioned figure in which he thought he recognized that of the fair rider, nobly molded at features, with the combination of dark se hair and soft blue eyes which suggest- CO ed an Irish type of beauty. WVith a it clear complexion, slightly flushed with exercise, Ned Carew thought she looked vi like a princess in disguise. 1 Notwithstanding his present rough a life and associations, Ned Carew had t not lost the instinctive bearing of an English gentleman; and this the young lady seemed in her turn to recognize as 13 she explained that her brother, r. t Percival, was out on the prairie, but would soon return, while his former comrade had left the ranch some time before. As she spoke, she courteously showed the way into a little sitting room, which with its simple extempor ized furniture, had so homelike and re fined an air that Carew's Heimweh was intensified; and he surveyed the little feminine adornments, the water-color sketches, the books, and (last but not least) the elderly lady who gave him so kind a greeting, with the relish of a lan whose domestic instincts had gone through a long course of starvation. lliss Percival, leaving her mother to talk to the stranger, quietly went on with her preparations for the evening meal, in the course of which she flitted in and out, setting the tea-table in a dainty way in which he had not seen a table set for years. And though the crockery was of the plainest, the fine white table-cloth and the gracefully ar ranged wild flowers would have set off a less appetizing meal than that pre pared by Miss Percival's deft fingers. Very soon young Percival appeared, with a herarty welcome-for, in these solitudes, a new acquaintance speedily I 6ecomes a friend. Carew gladly ac cepted his host's invitation to go to his room, and explained his business while getting rid of the dust of his ride. When he returned he looked more like his own self than he had done for months; his forehead-the shaggy locks brushed out of the way-leaving its English fairness to contrast with the embrowned shade below, and his whole appearance more in keeping with his mellow English voice and gentlemanly bearing. Miss Percival had laid aside her apron and appeared in a plain but very be coming dark blue dress of some thin material set of with a dainty little col lar that might have come fresh from Regent street Seated at the hospitable tea-table, Carew soon found his unusual shyness disappeartng under the influ ence of the ladieg gentle courtesy, till it seemed as if some baleful spell had been suddenly broken, and he could think and talk more like his old self of happier days. When 'they rose from the table Caraew strolled over to the book shelves wlere, among a few favorite books, ere a volume of Sophocles and one or. . Percival's old college classics. mechanically, he took one riopagid with the sense of g -.: old kaqmitintamce; and Percival vi;£ ,. -w -. .v~u 4.: ; g -_, t 9 ".- . and dons of the college days in whieh PI they had been so nearly contemporaries. Then the two young men concluded Dei" their business whale the" ladies wereDe busy about their household duties. of H But, as Carew had of course been in- A vited to stay all night, the whole party were by and by assembled outside the quo Iih open door to enjoy the coolness oL the evening as the dusk dropped softly over the boundless prairie, and the eveniig rea star gleamed brightly out in crystal S purity as the sunset MgU' died away asd above the unbroken horizon" They sat long talking, chiefly of the "home" scenes; and even after Mrs. talk Percival had gonhe in to est, a-onae of tl nied by her son, Camiew still lingered, - loth to terminate his conversation with pros Miss Percival, and unable to resist the visil spell of this sypapatletle female com- tet panionship, now so .Lrange in.his life. the Under the indseucen of it, and in the the friendly obscurity of the twilight, he ble taliked as he would not have believed pen, possible an hour or two before. liis - Scompanion could read between his has words something of his present self-dis- the Sgust and self-despair. On the other revs - hand, the whole tone of her conversa- one Stion struck a long-silent chord in his this e heart, reviving crushed aspirations, and ser Ssuggesting an unseen strength in which cula r a man may fight a good tight against and Sfate, even when everything seems sem s against him. As he blay awake that night, the best ing and holiest influences of his early life "Iii r seemed to have sprung into renewed ble d life under the impression made by one stoi woman's face and gentle words, and in for f many a lonely hour on the prairie kin o thereafter he mentally associated nos h Stella Percival-partly from the sug- bro gestion of her name-with the bright, tac Spure stars they bad watched as they - e talked that evening, and got into away anc of thinking of her as the "Lone Star of has Sthe Prairie." his n But when he next found a reason for der Spassing that way, the little ranch was tre ' deserted, and the inmates, he was told, vet h had sold out and gone to live in Can- use a ada. So the "Lone Star" had set on tea the prairie, and he must henceforth vol look to that lode-star of life of which tio Miss Percival had spoken with such Searnest feeling. no' S Some two or three years later, Carew sit Swas sitting in the cozy library of an the o English vicarage, talking to a fair young its Smatron. His carefully trimmed hair wI Sand beard and strictly conventional at- pnr Stire somewhat altered his appearance, wi r but his expression was still more thi rd changed from the dreary despondency to written on the face of the wanderer of as the prairie. fic S"Yes, it is odd," he said, "that I Sshould ever have lived to succeed my of poor Cousin Dick-with allehis home to comforts! For you haven't the faintest Lc idea of the life of a cowboy on the sti a prairie! I was very near going under: lii in but I had an experience that pulled he Sme up short. It was only an pr hour s talk with a young lady I a h met accidentally. You know, I never i e thought I could believe in a woman fr, ed again; but this one made me believe, ki not only in her but in myself too; and R p that saved me!" hi ed _"Your poor boy!" exclaimed his sis- hi ire te. "But we must hurry now, or we at shall be late at Mrs. Beaumont's, and ed she won't forgive me. For you are a rk sort of star here, now, you know. st- Come; you needn't look so dismal over n, Sa it! I dare say you may find some nice I th people there. And she has two ladies - ed visiting her who have lived in the west, I believe; so you may find lots to talk h about." Ile S An "afternoon tea" is apt to be a ad tame affair to a man fresh from the n n prairies, and Carew was looking-and as feeling-rather bored when he sudden- a Ir.ly caught sight of a figure and face 1 ut that made him start with amazement. e, her d me o] sly s r t ng- 5 ®r va hne w tise thg civo ,wh ner otw hitilh pk n n a o one fnTHEY SAT TALKING OF MOMS..I ar-No! his eyes did not deceive him! That surely. was Miss Percival! And there, only a little way ofE, was the hand ese some old lady of the ranch! Excusing iy himself rather abruptly to the lady ac- with whom he was conversing, he made his his way across the room to Miss Per hile cival, who never sawr him till he spoke -ide. -i a voice somewhat unsteady from like emotion. There was a moment's look for of perplexed surprise, and then a frankE rks expression of unafected pleasure.h Thaen its followed an eager interchange of ques the tion and answer, during which their hole hostess approached, and, addressing the his young man as "Sir Edward Carew," saly asked him to mtake Miss Percival in to have some tea." And "Sir Edward" rron could hardly help laughing at the ex be- Preaston of consternation that came thin over Miss Percival's expressive face, col- though he was hardly prepared for the rom almost freezing dignity that suddenly able stiffened her manner. He did not isual know that she had heard the young ufin- baronet, talked of on all sides as a till "great catch" till the disgust thereby had awakened made her now feel mortified roulfi at the involuntary cordiality with which if of she had met this "eligible parti," who, after all, had been the merest acquaint anew n e. he But Sir Edward Carew would have are a been less of a man than he was if he of had not found ways and means of over coming this slight impediment to "the nourse of true love." And so it came about, before very long, thatthe "Lone Star of the Prairie" became the light bnths Enst~ish home.~ PERSONAL AND LITERARY. N1 --The expression, "Vox populi vex - Dei"-the voice of the people is the lemc voice of God-was used in the writings py of William Malmesbury, who was born half A. D. 1075 and died about 1149. He cool, quoted the expression as a proverb even let in his time sufficiently well known. tigh -Miss Helen M. Winslow, of Boston, treasurer of the New England Woman's to a Press association, who is well known fat. as a writer of short stories,,ketches of a, and poems, has entered the ranks of lttl the novelists. Her book, which is much ty-fi talked about, deals with certain phases ates of the labor question. Bud -Honore Mercier, ex-premier of the province of Quebec, has been paying a choi visit to Boston, where he has been en- the: tertained by the Canadian societies of into the city. He is to lecture throughout a m the New England stattes on the proba- oho] ble future of Canada. He thinks inde- wh pendence or annexation inevitable. this --Mr. J. WV. llolden, of Otisfield, Me., wit1 has gone down to Boston to convert thgt town to his belief in the "non- of 1 revolution" of the earth. Be has hired salt one of the public halls of the city for cloy this purpose. "Prof." Holden is de- red scribed as a farmer, proprietor of a cir- coo culai saw-mill, selectman, town agent till t and lecturer, and is said strongly to re- I semble the late Daniel Pratt: eac -Austin Dobson is described as look- kee t ing utterly unlike one's idea of a poet. S"lie is the type of the common, sensi- gill I ble, middle-class Englishman. He is spo e stout and of medium height, and has a ly I Sflorid compexion, a pair of shrewd, foi e kindly, bluish-gray eyes, an acquiline mil I nose, a moderate quantity of dark colh * brown hair, and a thick bushy mus- rin tache." or -M. .Tames Darmstetter, orientalist Fal ' and professor in the college of France, f has been awarded the prize of eight del hundred pounds in the gift of the Aca- int r demie des Inscriptions et Belles Let- size s tres, for the author of any work or in- Le vention calculated to do credit or be an - useful to the country within the last roc a ten years. 3. Darmestetter gained the at h votes of the aca em- by his transla- fill h tion of the Avest. bri h -Marly-le-Roi, where President Car- lig not intends to spend a short time, is v situated a few miles west of Paris on do n the bank of the Seine. It is noted for its pretty country house, in one of tel ir which, the chateau "Mes Delices," the on - president will reside. As a private cre * wire connects the chateau with Paris ff e the chief of the republic will be able ste 7 to transact all important business just th as easily as though he were at his of- be ficial residence in the French capital. Se I -Mrs. Ann Longfellow Pierce, sister no 7 of Henry WV. Longfellow, has presented to to the Maine Historical society the lie Longfellow homestead on Congress th te street, in Portland, in which the poet a r: Ilived during his youth, but not the of 'd house in which he was born. The ax I I property is valued at twenty-five thou- cr sand dollars or more, and among Mrs. b er Pierce's requirments are that the two f in front rooms shall be forever kept and p e, known as the "Longfellow Memorial al id Rooms," and that a suitable library la hall shall -be begun six months after is- her death. re ad HUMOROUS. °l a a v. -A Glossary.--le - "A good joke el er needs no glossary." She-"That's whyv ce I insist on your furnishing a glossary." h -es -Detroit Free Press. P st, -Alicce-"Oh, dear it is so awfully P lk hot. I know I look just like a boiled s lobster, don't I?" Mabel-"Yes." Alice --"You horrid, mean, old thing!"--in he neapolis Journal. -d '-Husband--" think I shall go out a 'n- and catch a few fish for our dinner to ce morrow." WVife-"No, Edwin. we must it. economize. Buy them of the regular dealer."-Detroit Tribune. .Scribble-"I say, Van, you'll be f, there the night they produce my play?" e Van Trump-"Can't promise, old man. But if I'm not, my grandchildren will be."-Kate Field's Washington. a -Dreadful.-A man in Weehawken 1 has a pair of twins that have to have everything told them when they are together because they are so much I alike that they can't be told apart.- 1 Judge. -Hayseed-"Come out to the barn. 1 Miss Halsted Street, and see the new Jersey calf." Miss H. S.-"Oh, isn't he 7 lovely. I suppose that's the kind that 1 gives condensed milk." - Arkansaw Traveler. -Mr. Oldbeau-"And have you been having a good time to-day?" Miss Autograph (of Omaha)-"Lovely. I went around the buildings and signed my name in twenty-three registers." World's Fair Puck. hat -The Changes of Time.-Maiden xre, "When Frank first met me and I lived nd- in a brown-stone house he was very ing devoted. But now, how different!" ady Friend-'It seems to have been a case ade of love at first site."-Truth. Per- -Farmer-"Well, my son, did you oke mark the words of the minister to-day LomI when he said "Leave no stone un ook turned." Son-"Yes, pop, I don't think ank he had any reference to the grind hen stone."-Philadelphia Record. nes--True Economy.-Frlend-"'Why do eir you wear those fearfully old-fashioned the ollars?" Winkers (a man of affairs) S-"Because, when .ae washer-woman Sto sends them to anybody else, they send Sthem back."-Demorest's MIonthly. ex- -Not Fancy.-New Barber (referring ame to shaving cup)-"Isn't yours a fancy acemug, Mr. O'Riely?'! O'Riely-"Say, SMlister Barber, oi'le break your face if enl ye get persoonal. Do ye see oaything Sfancy about my mug? "-Brooklyn ang Life. Sa -"W'here is the island of Java situ fe ated?" asked a school-teacher of a hich small, sther forlorn-looking boy. "I h, dunno, sir," "Don't you know where coffee comes from?" "Yes, sir; we bor int rows it from the next-door neighbor." -- Tit-Bits. have -Young America at it Again. Teacher-"Now that I have finished th my diseourse on "Teeth," if there is Sanyone who wishes to ask a question [me n I will answer it." Smallest oy in the Lone Class-"How many teeth are there in ig the Jaws of death?"-Truth. HOME. HINTS AND HELPS. OI. -Lemon Beer: Cut half a dozen lemons into slices, and put in a jar with a pound of sugar and a gallon and a ii half of boiling water. Let stand until It cool, and add half a cup of fresh yeast; stan let ferment. Bottle and cork very mak tight.-Harper'sa Iazar. ent -Soup for an Invalid: Boil a chicken and to a jelly, and'when cold skim off the The fat. Ada to it a pint of cream, theyolk the of an egg (hard boiled and mashed), a of I little mace, salt and pepper and twen- kno ty-five o3 sters. Boil slowly fiftebn min- nun utes, and when done strain.-Boston the Budget. - am -Salad of Anchovies: Wash the an- plat chovies well, clean and soak them, and hor then cut into fillets and drain and put eral into a relish boat. Arrange over them ger a melange of hard egg 'olk and white or chopped separately, wits parsley and tioc whole capers. Moisten perfectly under hi this garniture-but not so as to run with oil and vinegar.-Boston Globe. of t -Tomato Catsaup: One-half a bushel of tomatoes, three tablespoonfuls of sub salt, one tablespoonful each of allspice, the cloves and sugar, one teaspoonful of tior red pepper. Chop the tomatoes and tiol cook till tender Sift, and boil down vel till thick, putting in the spices first. If vinegar is wished, add a little to each bottle before sealing. - House keeper. -Baked Omelet: Heat very hot three gills of rich, sweet milk,with one table t spoonful of butter in it; beat thorough ly five eggs; wet one tablespoonful of flour and a pinch of salt in a little cold milk. Mix the eggs with the flour and C cold milk, then add the hot milk stir ring fast. Bake in a quick oven fifteen or twenty minutes. Serve hot.--Ohio t Farmer. -Hot Fish Coquilles: Take remain - ders of cold fish, cut with a silver knife into little "thimbles," that is, thimble sized, and moisten with white sauce. ' Let it simmer and reduce. Then add e an equal volume of cold cooked mush Srooms hashed and a little nutmeg, salt, e white pepper and a squeeze of lemon; ` fill oys er or clam shells and put grated bread and butter over the top, and bake light brown.-Boston Globe. is -Corn Soup: Split the grains of one n dozen ears of corn and scrape. Boil the r cobs in enough water to cover them for A ten minutes. Strain this water and use pr e one quart. Add to it slowly one quart pr .e cream, then the corn. Season and cook ar is fifteen minutes. Milk can be used in- in Le stead of cream, if desired; it can be wi tthickened with one tablespoonful each m: butter and flour rubbed together. at Serve it at once.-People's Home Jour r natl p .d -Creamed Salmon: Drain all the w] e liquid from a can of salmon and chop cc ss the salmon fine. Grease the bottom of w, et a small baking dish and put in a layer m he of bread crumbs, then a layer of fish, ac le and so on until you have used a pint of of u- crumbs and the fish. For the dressing, cc s. boil a pint of milk, add two tablespoon- in ro fuls of butter. salt and pepper to taste. at id Pour this over the salmon and crumbs al and bake until brown. Have the top at ry layer of bread crumbs. - Prairie al er Farmer. ni -Wafer Biscuits: Rub a teaspoonful di of butter into a pint of sifted flour: add T a little salt, and with the white of an fc ke egg and warm milk, mix a stiff. smooth fi hv paste. Beat with a rolling-pin for one- g: P." half an hour, the longer the better; form into little round balls, size of a iF l pigeon's egg, and roll till the size of a' v led saucer. Sprinkle the baking pani, ice with a little flour, and bake with care. si in- These may be made of oatmeal, or dif-. ferent grains, cut in any pretty shape I and served with tea, or nourishing "a liquids.-Housekeepr. Last Setting Doubtful Colors* e lar It is not always possible to tell what a will set all colors, but a trial of did be ferent things with samples of the vari ?" ous goods will usually settle the mat an. ter. Black and white cotton goods are n gill generally successfully fixed by adding z about a cup of salt to every two gal- t en lons of water used in the last rinsing. e eve A delicate lavender or pale blue had c are better be set by soaking it for two r ich hours in a pail of strong salt aqd water t- before it is washed. Wash- it as usual. r after this, being careful to use no soap i rn. that has soda or any strong alkali in t Lew its composition. As a rule it is best to She avoid any brown soap in washing flan- , ,hat nels or colored goods, but use a good 1 taw white soap. Wring all calico goods as ] dry as possible, and hang them in the ] een house to dry. This is better than to I iss dry them in the strong light outdoors, I where delicate colors are liable to fade. 4 ned Another important matter is to sprin- I kle calicos and colored cottons just be fore they are ironed.-N. Y. Tribune. 1 W- Vear a Red Gown. | ived When a woman is sick and tired and ery has to make a good appearance she can nt!" belie her feelings by putting on a red Case dress. If that charitable, warm-tinted toilet is not at hand, get a crimson, you claret or cardinal scarf or a yard of day silk and fashion a kerchief, bretelles un- or chemisette against the face. Red is link the flag of health, the banner of love, ind- the color of life; it is the rouge with wich nature makes up the palms, lips, Sdo ears, cheeks and fingernails of her ned children; it is the heart of more than sirs) half the flowers; it lines the sea shells man and tints the priceless pearl, and it is send the best anti-freckle cure and skin brightener in the trade. No woman ring suspicious of her beauty should at ancy tempt to dress well without a red Say, gown.-N. Y. Recorder. ce iModish Tea Gowns for aSummer. hing Tea gowns for the summer are made klyn of beautiful crepons of light ground strewn with flowers, also of flowered situ- dotted Swiss muslin, tamboured organ f a die and soft, undressed India mulls. oI ~ast of the new gowns have blouse 'here vests lightly girdled, Eton fronts be bor- eyond, and a rather narrowly plaited bor." Watteau back. The popular Queen Anne sleeve, with fullness dropping to in.-a la~eg frill at the elbow, is used for shed these dresses. On other gownsp p ictur r is esque bretelles of wide, beautiful lace ation extend over the shoulders from belt to a the belt, with a falling rufle of the same re around the slightly opena neck.-N, Y. Post. SOME SANITARY ASPECTS OF BREAD MAKING. BY CYRUS EDBON, M. D., Health Commissioner. Ne'w York City. It is necessary, if one would under stand the sanitary aspects of bread making, to fully comprehend the pres ent theory held by scientists of germs and the part played by them in disease. The theory of disease germs is merely the name given to the knowledge had of those germs by medical men, a knowledge which is the result of in numerable experiments. Being this, the old term of a "theory" has become a misnomer. A germ of a disease is a plant, so small that 1 do not know how to express intelligibly to the gen eral reader its lack of size. When this germ is introduced into the blood or tissues of the body, its ac tion appears to be analogous to that which takes place when yeast is added to dough. It attacks certain elements of the blood or tissues, and destroys them, at the same time producing new substances. But the germs of the greater part of the germ diseases, that is, of the infec tious and contagious diseases, will de velop or increase in number without being in the body of a human being, W·sAZAW -.· -~ --- d . e · DIS~EAI P . GE BMB rOUR iD T hEIR WAYL L KTO Tl KE Y 1~AST DI JBEAD. "· provided always you give them the of proper conditions. These conditions th are to be found in dough which is be- nu ing raised with yeast. They are fei warmth, moisture and the organic ga matter of the flour on which the germs, ev after certain changes, feed. wl It is necessary to remember at this pu point that yeast is germ growth, and to when introduced into a mixture of glun- ca cose or starch, in the presence of warmth and moisture sets up a fer- is, mentation. If the mixture be a starchy me dough the yeast first changesa portion be of the starch into glucose and then de- fu composes the glucose by changing it th into two new substances, viz.. carbcnic ca acid gas and alcohol. br NI ow the gluten, which is also a con- as stituent of dough and moist starch, ju affords, with the latter, an excellent fr nidus for the development of germs of th I disease as well as for the yeast germs. of I The germs of cholera, as of typhoid If fever, would, if introduced into dough, a find very favorable conditions for their at growth. Pr I do not wish to "pose" as an alarm- gE a ist, nor am I willing to say there is very much chance of the germs of typhus and of cholera reaching the stomachs of the people who eat bread which has been raised with yeast. "e lut while I am not afraid that cholera yeast-raised bread, I have not the slightest cause to doubt that other dis eases have been and will be carried t about in the bread. I have met journeymen bakers, suf - fering from cutaneous diseases, work ing the dough in the bread trough with e naked hands and arms. I suppose I g need scarcely say this Was put a stop 1- to in very short order. I have no rea son to suppose bakers are less liable to d cutaneous diseases than are other men, and I know, as every house Swife knows, yeast-raised bread 1I. must be worked a long time. This up is an exceedingly objectionable ithing from the standpoint of a physi to cian, and for the reasons that the n-, germs of disease which are in the air xi and dust and on stairways and straps as in street cars, are most often collected 1e on the hands. So well do physicians I to know this that there is no ablution e *s, practical equal to that which they un .e. dergo before they perform any kind of C n- surgical operation. Any person who .e- has ever kneaded dough understands i Le. the way in which the dough cleans the hands. In other words, this means 1 that any germs which may have found a lodging place on the hands of the e baker before he makes up his batch of ed bread are sure to find their way into the dough, and once there, to find all n,' the conditions necessary for subdi 01 vision and growth. This is equivalent to saying that we must rely on heat to is kill these germs, because it is almost re, certain that they will be there. Now, uth underdone or doughy bread is a form Ps' which every man and woman has seen. Ler It is a belief as old as the hills that an underdone bread is unhealthful. This Ile reputation has been earned for it by the experience of countless genera tions, and no careful mother will wish an her children to eat bread that has not at- been thoroughly cooked. The reason -ed given for this recognized unhealthful ness has been that the uncooked yeast dough is very difficult to digest, and Lde this reason has value. No one but a nd physician would be apt to think of dis red ease germs which have not been killed Ln- during the process of baking as a Ils. cause of the waikness following the use use of uncooked yeast bread. Yet this be- result from this cause is more than ,ed probable. I have not the slightest -en doubt that could we trace back some to of the eases of illness which we meet for in our practice we would find that ur- germs collected by the baker have ace found their way into the yeast bread, t to that the heat has not been sufficient to ,me destroy them, that the uncooked yeast y, bread has been eaten-and with it the oolonies at germs, that t**IF lI found their way into the blood and that the call for our services which followed, has rounded off this sequence of events. I have already pointed out that the germs of disease are to be found in the air and dust. The longer any sub stance to be eaten is exposed to the air, the greater the chance that germs will be deposited on it. Bread raised with yeast is worked down or kneaded twice before being baked and this pro cess may take anywhere from four hours to ten. It has, then, the chance of collecting disease germs during this process of raising and it has two peri ods of working down or kneading dur ing each of which it may gather the dirt containing the germs from the baker's hands. As no bread save that raised with yeast, goes through this long process of raising and kneading so no bread save that raised with yeast has so 'good a chance of gathering germs. What is meant by "raising" bread is worth a few words. The introduction of the yeast into the moist dough and the addition of heat when the pan is placed near the fire produces an enor mous growth of the yeast fungi-the yeast "germ." in other words. These fungi effect a destructive fermentation of a portion of the starchy matter of 1 the flour-one of the most valuable t nutrient elements in the flour. The fermentation produces carbonic acid , gas, and this, having its origin in 1 every little par -ile of the starch a which is itself everyt.vherc in the flour. pushes aside the pqlticlesof the dough f to give itself roo. This is what is r called raising the bread. r It needs but a glance to see that it t is, in its effects on 'the dough, purely t mechanical. The dough, which wa: r before a close-grained mass, is now full of little holes, and when cooked in I this condition is what we ordinarily call light. This porous quality of 1 bread enables the stomach to rapidly and easily digest it. for the gastric 1 juices quickly soak into and attack it I I from all sides. The fermentation of E the dough, however, uses up a portioe of the nutrient elements of the loaf. i If it be possible, therefore, to produce a light porous loaf without this de r struction and without the "'kneading" process, which fills the dough with - germs and filth, and -without the lont germs uag ntLn, ana uu onous Wwa vas a L - - -u- r BeAD WITHOUT YEAST-" THLE MOST PERFECT OF ALL CONCEIVABLE WAYS Ol SRAISING IT." period during which the raising process n goes on, the gain in food and the gain I in the avoidance of the germs is ex- I ceedingly plain. But while we can easily see the dan gers which attend the use of yeast it is 1 certain that the vesiculating effect produced by it on the dough is to the last degree perfect. By this I mean that every particle of glute produccs its little bubble of gas and that there fore the bread is properly raised - that is, it is raised everywhere. It is ap parent that if we are to substitute any other system of bread making we must have one which will give us, first, me chanical results equally as good, that is, that will produce minute bubbles of carbonic acid gas throughout the mass of dough. Now it is in no way diffi cult to produce carbonic acid gas chem ically, .but when we are working at bread we must use such chemicals as are perfectly healthful. Fortunately these are not hard to find. The evils which attend the yeast made bread are obviated by the use of a properly made, pure and wholesome baking powder in lieu of yeast. Bak i ing powders are composed of an acid and an alkali which, if properly com - bined, should when they unite at once I destroy themselves and produce car L bonic acid gas. A good baking powder s does its work while the loaf is in the a oven, and having done it, disappears. I But care is imperative in selecting t the brand of baking powder to be cer a tain that it is composed of non-injuri t ous chemicals. Powders containing t alum or those which are com a pounded from impure, sngredients, I, or ;those which are sot com o bined in proper proportion or care it fully mixedsnd which will leave either e an acid or an alikaU in th bread, must * aUOe (a .4 It is well to sound a note of warnimg in this direction or the change frogn the objectionable yeast to an impre - baking powder will be a case of JumpL. ing from the frying pan into these. The best baking powder made is, as -shown by analysis, the "Royal." It • contains absolutely nothing but eretin - of tartar and soda, refined to s eemn L ical purity, which when combine&unr 1 der the influence of heat and mols.irga . produce carbonic acid gas, and having"' r done this, disappear. Its leaveninig o strength has been found superior to s other baking powders, and as far as I - know, it is the only powder which. will raise large bread perfectly. Itafuse" e avoids the long period during which e the yeast made dough must stand in t order that the starch may ferment and s there is also no kneading necessary. g The two materials used inthe Royal, t cream of tartar and soda, are perfectly g harmless even when eaten. But they are combined in exact compensating s weights, so that when chemical action n begins between them they practically d disappear, the substance of both hav 1s ing been taken up to form the carbonio - cid gas. More than this, the proper e method of using the powder insures e i'e most thorough mixing with the n flour. The proper quantity being taken, it is mixed with the flour and stirred around in it. The mixture is then sifted several times and this in sures that in every part of the flour there shall be a few particles of the powder. The salt and milk or water - being added, the douah is made up as quickly as possible and moulded into the loaves. These are placed in the oven and baked. But the very moment the warmth and moisture attack the mix ture of cream of tartar and soda, these two ingredients chemically combine and carbonic acid or leavening gas is evolved. The consequence may be seen at a glance, the bread is raised during the time it is baking in the oven, and this is the most perfect of all conceivable methods of raising it. Here, then, there is no chance for germs of disease to get into the dough and thence into the stomach, more than that the bread is necessarily as sweet as possible, there having been no time during which it could sour. This involves the fact that the bread so made will keep longer, as it is less of likely to be contaminated by the germs )le that affect the souring process. he It will be strange if the crowds of :id visitors to the world's fair do not great in ly increase the number of contagious ch disease, which we will have to treat. ir. Under these circumstances is it not 5h folly of follies to open 6 single chan is nel through which these germs may reach us? Is it not the part of wisdom it to watch with the greatest care all ,ly that we eat and drink, and to see that a:; none but the safest and best methods w are employed in the preparation of our in food? To me it seems as though there ily could be but one answer to questions of like these. ly I have shown the danger of using ric the yeast raised bread, and with this I it have shown how that danger may be of avoided. The ounce of prevention sii which in this case is neither dif af. ticult nor expensive is certain ace ly worth many pounds of cure, de- and the best thing about it is ig" that it may be relied on almost abso ith lutely. Those who during the coming ,n.I summer eatbread or biscuits or rolls made at home with Royal bakin? powder may be sure they have abso lutely stopped one channel through which disease may reach them. NOTE.-Housekeepers desiring informa tion in regard to the preparation of the bread which Dr. Edson for sanitary reasons so strongly urges for general use, should write to the Royal Baking Powder Com pany, New York. He Had Seen the Scareerew. One Somerville young man, who has just been spending a fortnight in the co-- atry, lost all chance of making a favorable impression on the farmer's pretty daughter the very first day he came. Her father came by the front of the house where the young man was trying to make himself agreeable, and the girl introduced him, saying: "This is my father, Mr. Smythe." "Oh, yes," responded the young man, t turning toward the old man, andslowly B holding out his hand, "I sawyonstea-d V ing over in the cornfield a little while ago, when I came up the road."-So erville Journal e Mr. Chimpanzee- "That ostrich . te e enough for two birds. What do .a d suppose makes him so greedy, rm. " S hMrs. Chimpanzee-"I heard the keeper i e say he swallowed a pair of strong alia e - glasses yesterday and they msgniat. r his appetite."--VgCe. e -"Do you goato school, TommSy?" , "Yes'm." "Does your teacher like S Tommy?" "You bet she does. evening most she hates to has leave and keeps me in." Traveler. s, -"I met Jack Stageloon last a- He tells me he is going oat vwith ai e- pany next season which wilt 3r 'Fireman Fred. "Indeed at he play?" 'oSh Wpa" " E~ga la.