Democratic Press, Volume 1, Number 26, Decatur, Adams County, 11 April 1895 — Page 3

VENGEANCE BY VERA ROSEBERY — A Story of a Briton in American Society. Written for This Paper by A. Oakey Hall.

CHAPTER ll.—Continued. She instantly with a new blush changed t<te subject, and added, “Tell me if I have what you rail an American accent. D<* you know—panb.n me. 1 s'louhl have paid dentcherkuMW—when I was in lx>nton two years ago ♦ v.*r.,lwaiy my American accent. Now. lu re we do >! lot challenge your British accent, but Miss it by.” “Is it noticeable, then'.*” “Now let me be British—‘Kawther.’ ” tie felt the hit to be clever and smil'Hl —showing a tine set of white Saxon teeth—then good-humoredly said, ‘Please give me some more examples.” “Well, in general, if we Americans speak from the nose at times, especially luring blizzards, you seem to i»ossess a frill in your throats which broils language drawlingly. I could travel, were I * French or German woman, all over England did I know only two words — fancy’ ami ‘quite so.’ You say ‘cultsha’ ’or cult-ure. Your letter ‘a’ be<*ome» as iroad as our rivers, and instead of beng ‘sure’ of a thing you are ‘sher of it.’ But why accumulate instances? Ac•ent, after all, is a mere internal game jf give and take.” (’arson, with all his imperturbability. *ould at this juncture have brained the ‘dude” who at this moment came ami claimed Miss Vera for a “dawnse.” He, too, was on accent bent, but it was a Hs>r imitation of a Curzon street drawl. Miss \ era Roseberry also looked aiiloyed, and as she was borne away like i Z< nobia at the wheels of conqueror, the Briton again felt the strange and tew sensation of having hern socially magnetized he the “used-up,” blase tourist of the world. He watched her BK n the adjoining room, evidently dancug mechanically, and clearly absorbed n her thoughts. His own absorption folmQF sowed as he took leave, and it did not dej lert him when he reached his rooms ami encountered Mivins, who was also in I evening dress. When t ho invitation came for the latter, | under the supiHisition that he was a not bleninn in disguise, he look counsel at I once of his master, who, relishing the t contretemps, advised him to accept, and I coached him in the role he was to play. I He was simply to deny the imputation, / and to insist upon the great honor done him. to marvel at the condescension, and be natural. ‘lf 1 indulge in the extravai gance of a body servant, why should he not minister to my fun?” CHAPTER HI i ; _. Months had elapsed since their landing. H and Mivins bad found in a number of || the detective staff of the city police one E with whom, during a visit of the latter P to London. he had lMH*ome “chummy ” L This was one of the shrewdest of his B <lnss. ami who had pasatwl an ordinary T lifetime as a modern Fouche. He was J familiarly known us Golden Tim a souL briquet as well understood at Scotland f. Yard as at the Mulberry street j>olire I headquarters. Luder his guidance MivK ins had “seen the sights’’ of Manhattan R to their realistic maximum. One can estimate, therefore, the snrf prise with which Golden Tim on the | evening of Mrs. Merton’s reception saw I Mivins the <*enter of an eager group of & guests who were evidentially differential to him. Well they might be. for tin- hostF esa with many smirks and smiles and im- | plied innuendoes, bad bruited it around (hat there was the eccentric nobleman—!a veritable “Lord Bateman of high degree.” who was incognito exploring the States and looking out for a wife while concealing his identity. Os course GoldPn ' va * ar *S»'»rant of the cause I and of the romantic relations of Mivins iSHS ai, d bin IRtl e public. Equal surprise came u|M>n the latter person when a mirror in from of him reI vealed the features of the deh'ctivv. Prvsently they met. “Not a word as to my identity.” was Y about the hushed and whispered salu’aE lion of each “Identity, indeed,” quoth the body serI rant, “I have lost mine. The coiiversrtion of the hostess and of nearly all the people here seems that of Queer street. But as you ask why 1 am here, how is it J’” 11 are -*’ I “I am only professionally known to Mrs. Merton. I attend many receptions W and weddings, and my face becomes known to many guests without their guessing my vocation. Know that not only ground swells ami not a few of the swell mob obtain forced entrance to these entertainments; whereat it is a wise host who knows all his guests but the bona fide guests that I am employed to watch.” H “To watch?” “There are light fingers in the fashionable as in the adventure world. Many a fredding present disappears. Many fin ornament falls to —well, let me say—the f1..0r, and is never found by its owner. Besides. I am advised to watch, this evening, one particular chap.” “Who is he?” “Never you mind yet; but PH tell yci before long. But what has been done to you that you are losing identity?’’ Before Mivins could speak the question was practically answered by another group settling around him. led by the übiquitous Mrs. Leo Hunter. “Was your lordship—l beg pardon” - there was a little blush here as if apologizing for undue eagerness—“were you wearied of listening to compliments,” she said. “Here are several who wish introd actions to you and who have heard of your prowess in the park,” Introductions followed, and she confidentially whispered to the detective: “So you, too. are on the scent.” And she rolled her eyes significantly in the direction of Mivins. The former, not understanding, or rather misunderstanding, her reference, whisppred in response: “I feel sure he is not what he represents himself to be.” But the detective was referring to the baronet, on whom the suspicions of the Mulberry street officials had already fallen. Her eyes twinkled in triumph as she answered in one of her mysterious whispers: “Os course he is not. but what can his racik be?” “No rank at all, I fear. IL* may be ai impostor.” “Impostor- Impossible!” and her face lengthened. “But I must attend to him now, as the supper crush is beginning,” and Golden Tim made his way toward the frantic hungry crowd in the adjoining ix»m, followed by the bewildered Mrs. Leo Hunter.

Presently three fiersons emerged from the supper room —two of whom, a man and a woman, were evidently in a state j of excitement. The other was the detective. cool as an icicle on (’hamouni. “What means this impertinence?” said the man. “This is my accepted husband.” added the lady to the detective. “What do you mean by this behavior?” She was an imperious ami well preserved matron—a widow of family and fortune. “A short time ago you were wearing in your hair, madame. an ornament composed of an opal surrounded by dia- l monds.” She put her hand to her coiffure. It was gone. The man turned pale. “I>i<l you pick it up? I have dropped it.” The detective, with a quick, yet quiet movement, ran his hand into the man’s breast pocket and pulled out the ornament, while the false baronet aim**d an • ineffectual blow at his assailant. “See what they are doing to Sir Frederick Murray,” cried a lady, coming towanl them. At this some groups rushed toward where the three were standing, j The detective, in a low voice, said, as he slightly touched the wig. “Bob Sutte.i, you are dead to rights. Come out quietly ami avoid a scene.” But the lady had diverted attention by fainting. She was at least saved from a wretch- I ed existence on the other side of the i water, such as several American heir- ; esses have known who blundered into we<i lock. Mrs. Merton instantly became a Niobe, so far as “tears, idle tears” were concerned. and like many women puzzled in any emergency, turned for blame upon the nearest person, who happened to be Mivins. “If I haw heard rightly, in my astounded frame of mind, the baronet no baronet, and a thief. Pray. then, are you also a false lord?” Such of the guests who had not already sought the shawling room gathered around her ami looked Maltese daggers at the retreating supposititious nobleman. “Poor deluded dear!” became the substantial chorus of the group, to which was added r<‘citative reading, thus: “Such impositions are to be expected when we ’ admit the scum of Europe freely to our j shores.” CHAPTER IV. When Mivins reached the apartments he related bis adventures to (’arson, whose imperturbability and carelessness for emotion relaxed into peals of laughter, saying: “I discovered some time ago that the baronet was ‘bogus’—to use some slang I learned in Wall street —and ‘ I trust the incident may become a social lesson to American hostesses on the look- ; 1 out for titled foreigners.” His courtesy-lordship as a younger ?.on had, when in London, received scant nt i tention from British matrons and daughters who ranked in the list of eligibles: and he hud been too indolent, and. perhaps, too selfish to care for marrying money where it abounded outside of “eligibles.” In truth, he was fastidious —a ! quality which is the progenitor of ennui, that itself is the parent of cynicism. But ‘ he had studied women throughout bis travels—those of heartless Paris, of flip- I I pant Italy.of the voluptuous Orient, of! domestic Germany ami of heedless Swe- j den. But now for the first time he had I been movinl to a delight in feminine com- : panionship by Vera Rosebery. Os the social swims in which she disported he had t come to make a point of taking close t cognizance. Nor had she now b»*<*<ime. ns j she had heretofore been, indifferent to | . swainship. She was a half orphan resid- i ’ I ing with her mother. The father, once ; an admiral, had left them a fortune that I he himself had inherited. Vera had e:i- ! . joyed every possible advantage. Her * childhood had *»een trained in the Man- ! hattanville Convent of the Sm-red Heart Her forte was in language, of which she 1 spoke several. She was mistress of the ? harp. An excellent memory, wide range of reading, cultured habits of thought. ’ impromptu wit. fondness for repartee and ready command of speech, with much resi- > donee in Europe, had made of her a brilliant conversationalist. Her ohi gover- . ness hud named her Miss Crichton, after . the “Admirable” Scot. But she threw t around her beauty, her grace, and her ac- ‘ < omplishiiicnts a cohl reserve that held at k a distance the attentions of men that pars alyzed what society bad begun to term ( “dudes.” Perhaps it was the sang froid • of ('arson that first attracted her attention to him so that he became a guest of her mother’s bouse, and bore with infinite L patiem-e her persistent raillery. His ( amusing indifference to life, the mystery ¥ hanging about him. and the eccentricity of a banking < lerk keeping a body servant ’ became additional incidents of attention. Neither was admittedly to each other in love with the other: yet each conL'ssed- [ ly cared for asßoeiatiGn with the other. > Such a combination in friendship, how- ! ever, often brings around the best union i ot head and heart. Was it not written in one of the ephemera of the first Lord , Lytton that sexual association invariably led to that state of heart and head which | found perfect happiness in the compan- | ionship of two persons of different sexv». ' ( and gave comparative misery during their > . mutual absence. Misery only mollified by ( the hope of fresh companionship—a state I to which Lord Lytton gave the name of love. When her mother once hinted at such > a word, and deprecated her “throwing > herself away upon a clerk or secretary of whom nobody knew anything.” Vera heartily laughed; yet when she retired to her apartments, her mirror, if it had a tongue. ■ could have prated other thoughtful demeanor there, and of her quietude, as if : a catechism of a certain kind was. being applied by the "Me” to the "Myself.” When once the banker-employer slight ly rallied Carson upon his attentions to the lady, Carson also laughed, but also grew thoughtful and taciturn. i She had often endeavored to turn his conversation upon English matters and : social associations in British cities and ruralties, yet entirely without definite • clews as to whom he might be. His very avoidance of his past, except as to Li< > travels and adventures, more and more i increased the mystery, and arous«*d h«»r ■ interest. She could, of course, like many of her sex. have aired her curios, ty m questions, or have intruded herself upon his secretiveness by many an adroit ref-

eren<*e. But she was “an angel who fear»*d to tread.” however might l>e tempted to "rush in.” “The Demi Heart” is of late a current phrase. That Carson possessed a dead lieart was the general impression his acquaintances. Yet in his day. o> rather heydey, he had been popular among women; yet had never been entangled. A heart’s emotion may be congealed by sorrow or made apathetic by ingratitude but to every such heart there < an cwme the healing touch of some circumstance. (’arson’s heart had long been apathetic under a stratum of selfishness. It h»<! been at times congealed by disappointments. Vera’s heart had never been congealed, but a want of any fairy touch from an event had held it in a stare of syncope. Carson’s apparent indifference had given her heart a quicker beat. Her unwonted companionship had thawed his habitual iciness of emotion. When a skater whisks toward thin ice there is often a hapless fascination to him in the placard “dangerous;” and so a man in love, yet fully realizing the precariousness. or, perhaps, impolicy of his suit, will nevertheh’ss tempt himself with hopes and companionship* Carson, one night, fell asleep murmuring. “What a grand duchess Vera would make if—if,” but the contingency was so entirely distant that when he fvll asleep the smile at such a ' folly remained upon bis face. In a few months his opportunities Mr social enjoyment were enhanced by the receipt of some unexpected balance from ' the confidential solicitors of the family, who of course knew and kept all of his se- ■ » rets. Vera’s birthday intervened, and she received from him one souvenier of a tasteful writing case of original design - ; his own—and of unique comfort in use. Vera had rallied him kindly but firmly on j his extravagance, but he parried it pleasI antly. A friend of \ era, seeing it in her i boudoir, remarked upon it: "Do you ' know there is gossip about you two? j Cave amorom, as my college brother quotes it.” Vera answered: “If there were anything in the gossip my will power would be strong enough to put that or anything else of the kind wholly out of my life.” “Y“s,” rejoined the feminine friend, “but remenber the lines, ‘He comes too near who comes to be denied.’ and such a denial might encourage. But possibly it is a ease of la reme quis amuse.” "It is not only folly in a worldly sense, but I could never tolerate his insouciance, confess<*d weariness of existence and abominable sang froid that is often the shield of cowardice.” In due time the day arrived for the trial of the fallen baronet, and Mivins, who happened to have witnessed the extraord- | iuurv legerdemain of the theft, was to i be the witness. The court room was crowded and the corridors of the building thronged by unsuccessful applicants for seats. Society that had worshipped even the shadow of a supposed baronet was now eager to exult at bis downfall. While technically he might be guilty of theft, practically society wished him convicted for this humbugging of society. That popularly considered was his crime. Among the audience was (’arson. The w bole affair struck him as if it were a ! theatrical entertainment. He missed the quietude of London’s central criminal I court, and the white wigs and flowing ■ gowns of lawyers. IL* admired the red i cravat of the presiding judge who was : clad in such a morning dress as he would have worn at a weding. IL* was amused at the questions addressed to the jurors before they were sworn. He marvelled : at the cameradeship that seemed to exist all around. The impertinence of some of j the questions addressed to the witnesses who sat at their ease instead of standI ing at great discomfort as in an English j court. And he was puzzled by the crossj tiring of words between counsel, and the I confusions of “We object!” “Please note j an exception,” and by the free and easy ! way in which the recorder was hectored by counsel and by the deprecatory air of , the judge, who under no circumstances wished to offend a man who might be a I voter when the judge came up for re- ; election. But most of all Carson trem- ! bled for Mivins when be liecaim* a witi m ss. and he admired most the celerity i with which testimony was given and ■ taken down in writing by the official j stenographer, so different from the slow * and delayed manner of taking long hand i notes that was in vogue at London trials. And greatly to his surprise the baronet was allowed to tell his own story from the witness chair, when in England his mouth would have to be sealed. The name of Mivins created what the reporters wrote down as “a sensation.” The story of bis saving a life in Central Park, and of the curious mistake made at the reception regarding his rank, had been duly chronicled by the press, and had made him as much of an interest as the ci deva in Baronet himself. The prosecuting lawyer had generously admitted the ownership of the jew- so as to save the mortification of the appearance of the y oung lady who had been the dupe of the accused, so Mivins seemed to have, as actors phrase it, "all the fat of the part.” His cross-examination began, and among the questions was this one: “In whose pmploy are you?” Mistily the words “swear to the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth” came to him. and he faltered as his eyes caught those of his master, and us he noted the I tiush upon his cheek. Il is hesitancy i prompted the prosecuting lawyer to object. “It is the practice.” thought Car- | son, “in America for counsel to object to ! everything and take chances.” A wranj gle ensued, during which some of the jurors patronized an old woman who was | sauntering about the court room offering : “apples and wa’nuts” in pantomime. At ■ the end of the wrangle his honor said he should “reserve his ruling to a later stage.” This came so late that much to the eventual delight of the witness, judge ami counsel forgot all about the subject matter of the wrangle. His master took | great interest in the addresses of the counsel. They orated more about matters outside of than those which were inside of the testimony. At times counsel seemingly addressed auditors as actors often improvise asides. Carson was < specially pleased with the fairness of the recorder toward the jurors, whom he told they had sole charge of the facts, while be commented only on the law applicable to those. He detected the superior fairness of such a course to that of judges of his own country, who at least intimated even if they do not declare, their opinion as to what kind of a verdict the jurors should give. But Carson’s commiseration for the “baronetish Bob Sutton” was much weakened when he was told that months, and perhaps a year, might elapse when the sentence he heard pronounced could be carried into effect because of the multiplicity of appeals that was his right, with the sentence meanwhile suspended in operation. (To be continued.)

FACTS FOR FARMERS. HELPFUL SUGGESTIONS FOR THE AGRICULTURISTS. Oxford Down Sheep a. a Mutton Breed — How to Properly Construct a Plank Sidewalk—A Brooder for Pigs—Profit in Hiring Farm Help. A Good Breed. The history of the sheep industry in this country is one of almost ceaseless fluctuations between a boom and a panic. With almost cyclical regularity one lias followed the other. The present depression in the wool market has created increased interest in the heavy mutton breeds of sheep. However cheaply wool may be imported, the mutton supply must be mainly produced at home. True, the prices for mutton have also declined, but the outlook for mutton is more hopeful than Ju*”--h 'J YEARI.TNG OXFORD WETHER “ STOKE.” for wool in the immediate future. While the holders of fine-wool sheep must sell out on low markets, or hold on at little profit, if not absolute loss, until the return of better times, the holders of middle and long wooled sheep may reasonably expect fairly remunerative prices for carcasses, whatever may be the condition of the wool market Besides, the heavy breeds of sheep are generally held in comparatively small flocks, a few on each farm, and do not constitute the leading industry of their holders, as in many cases do flne-wooled sheep. Holders otfnutton sheep seem largely disposed to hold their flocks and keep right along raising lambs and mutton. An indication of this was visible at the last Chicago fat-stock show, where tlie entries in the down and long wooled sheep classes compared favorably with the exhibits of more prosperous years. The display of Southdowns, Chropshircs and Oxfords was particularly good, while long wools and merinos were quite fairly represented. Os the Oxford classes the entries of 11. J. Stone, of Illinois, were specially fine, and took all the prizes but one. His yearling wether, “Stone,” a portrait of which is shown in the accompanying illustration, was awarded first in his class, and was at the head of the premium pen.—Orange Judd Farmer. Improving Worn-Out Lands, In 1884 I bought a farm of fifty acres, mostly poor land, and by the use of stable manure I have brought it up so it brings good crops. I have been keeping the average of about six head of cattle and horses, and I have supported them from what I raised on my own land, and sold some hay and corn besides. Now, my brother farmer, you can do the same thing. It isn’t any use buying feed when you can raise all the peahay at home you need, for there is no land so poor that peas can’t be grown in it Try to make all the manure you can, clean up your lots, take care of your straw pile, don’t set it afire as I see some doing, put straw in your stable (leaves will do), put up your stock of a night, and when your stable gets wet clean It out. and put in a fresh supply, and by next spring you will have more manure than you have any idea of. I always haul my manure on my poorest land. Plant your best land in corn; sow peas in it-at last plowing. It will help the land, and besides makes a tine pasture for the hogs and cows. Sow some wheat, followed by clover, and if your land is too poor for clover sow it in peas, and in a few years it will bring clover, and then you are all right. Home and Farm. Constructing a Plank Sidewalk, In many villages and farming communities the sidewalks are constructed entirely of planks, says the American Agriculturist. When this is the case it is of the greatest Importance that they be properly laid, or decay or a tilting walk will soon follow' construction. The sidewalk must be laid up from the ground and it must have a . I IJ Is I jl 111 MI, - L r S-. L • » "IK IA FROFERLY laid sidewalk. broader, firmer foundation than is usually given it, if it is to remain useful for any length of time. The illustration shows a sidewalk, and its foundation. that is now in actual use and is standing very firm and true. Lengthwise strips of 3x4 inch stuff are laid upon flat rocks well bedded in the ground, the broader these rocks and the more firmly established the better. Crosswise over the lengthwise strips are laid strips of 3x4 inch stuff just the width of the walk, upon which the planks are laid lengthwise. A sidewalk should never be laid with crosswise planks Such a walk is a continual source of annoyance. Planting- Strawberries. Get the new strawberry land in condition. New beds should have the plants in position before April 15, if possible, so as to give them the spring in which to get a start and become well

established before the dry season sets in. A week or two is quite an advantage with strawberries. After plowing the land and harrowing it well, apply wood ashes ami ground bone, and then harrow it again before putting out the new plants. Cropping Orchards. An orchard in bearing ought never to be cropped. All the fertility that the soil contains is wortli more to be used in developing fruit than for anything else that can be grown. Renovating crops to be plowed under may. however, be sown even in bearing orchards. If young orchards are making wood inst< ad of fruit when they are large enough to bear, a seeding with clover and plowing in midsummer after a clover growth has been taken off. will often bring them into condition to bear fruit. The clover while growing is a check to growth, and the cutting of tvroots in midsummer is a further check. This will cause a great many fruit spurs to form late in summer, and these will produce a large crop of fruit the next year. This is a severe remedy, but if the tree has a good supply of mineral fertilizer it will continue to bear from that time. It may be that a tree treated thus will not be so long lived as is one whose growth has not been checked. but it is not often the very largest trees that are the most profitable. Profit in Hiring Help. The rate of farm wages is. we hear, a litter lower than a year ago; but those who are known to be faithful and skillful can get old prices. There is not the difference made that there should be. It is very easy for a careless hired man to destroy implements or injure stock by ill treatment to an extent that would make his services too dear if he worked for nothing. Neither can a farmer afford to hire the slow and unskillful, for these are just as like as not to set the pace for others that he employs. It is impossible for the farmer to always work with his men, and when he is away the work will suffer. It always pays when a really faithful hand can be secured to give him some extra pay and make him the leader, holding him responsible for the amount of work ami the way it is done. A Pig Brooder. C. -I. Gray, of Ashtabula County, Ohio, sends to the Ohio Farmer a sketch and description of a device he uses to save pigs that are littered in cold weather. It is a shoebox set on end; a door cut at top to put in and take out the pigs: a door cut at bottom (D) to put in and take out lantern or lamp (L); and a frame over which is stretched phosphate sacking (P), on which the pigs BROODEIi FOR PIGS. rest. The top (D) can be made into a lid, to open and shut. The door at side, at top, serves for ventilation. Mr. Gray says: “As soon as the pigs drop I put them in on this sacking. They soon dry and are ready to suck. They are safe from being tramped on or chilled. I have kept the pigs In this brooder three or four days, taking them out only long enough to suck, once in two hours. The greatest loss is usually inside of four days.’’ Cows Holding Back Milk. One of our dairy exchanges says that when the cow is frightened or injured l she holds back the butter fats in her I milk. From this it argues properly in favor of giving the cow kind treatment, i and relieving as soon as possible any | sores on her teats, which are the usual , cause of milk being held up. This is : all right, but we doubt whether the ' cow discriminates to hold back the : richer parts of her milk that in milking always comes last When the cow is , restless and kicks at the milker, she is apt to be left with more or less milk in her udder. As it is towards the last of i the milking, this retained milk will i naturally be richer without any volition on the ci w’s part to make it so.— American Cultivator. Not All the Same, There never was a stable where all the creatures should be fed exactly alike. Some run to fat, others to milk, one is dainty, another is hearty, or hero is a thief bound to steal all she can reach before she cleans her own. some are cutting teeth, others shedding them, this one is excitable, another naturally quiet. To many a cow is a cow, but there is much more we find when we attempt to keep each doing her best at the milk pail. Rolling Wheat, The wheat field should be rolled after a heavy frost, so as to press the plants into the soil if they have been thrown up. Where a field is somewhat damp from insufficient drainage, and heavy frosts occur, the plants are liable to be thrown up until their roots are exposed. The roller should be put on the field as soon as the condition of the ground will permit Covering Seed. Seed should be covered. It is true that clover seed, sown on the snow and allowed to remain on the ground, grows and makes a good stand sometimes, but it is safe to claim that the larger portion of tile seed never germinates, and is lost. If grass seed is to be sown on lawns the surface should be scratched with a harrow, seeded and rolled.

Methods of Cleaning Silk. Take a good-sized ]K>tato. clean and scrape it. Put it in a basin and pour over it a pint of boiling water. Let this preparation stand until cool. Sponge the silk with the potato water on the right side and iron on the wrong side while still damp. Your silk will look like new when finished. In many parts of Germany potato water is ttsed for washingall sorts of materials, and also for silk handkerchiefs. Another recipe for washing silk calls for a good-sized potato and a quart of water. The potato is washed, grated and allowed to stand two days in the water, when the liquor may be strained ready for use. There should be no rubbing. the fabric being simply dipped in the water, passed through the hands to remove traces of dust and dirt and then hung up to drip. When most of the moisture has been extracted in this way the silk is spread between two cloths, and, to extract the remaining moisture, ironed with a moderately hot iron, a thin flannel being placed over the silk. The art of washing silk is not to rub or wring. All drying must be accomplished by hanging or placing between cloths. Where the silk is creased the task of renovating becomes more difficult.—New England Farmer. F The Philailelpliia Broil. In Philadelphia they have what is known as the “Philadelphia broil.” which, by the way, is not a broil at all. The oysters are cooked after the following fashion: l irain the oysters: put the liquor over the fire; boil and skim it for each twenty oysters; allow one tablespo-.nful of butter, which put in a saucepan and brown; add a half pint of th<> oyster liquor, which has been boiled and skimmed; stir the mixture until boiling; add half a teaspoonful of salt, two tablcspoonfuls of sherry and jne of paprica. Turn all this into a double boiler and add a teaspoonful of "Kitch en Bouquet” Have very hot an ordinary cake griddle; brush it lightly with butter; throw on a few oysters at a time. As soon as they brown and curl, turn and throw them at once into the saucepan, and so continue until all the oysters are broiled. The griddle must be very hot, or the juice of the oyster will prevent the browning. Facts in Table Ware. Celery dishes are low and flat and of eut glass. English chop dishes are round instead of the usual oval shape. Bouillon cups of crystal or porcelain are low and flat, with fluted covers. Low shapes prevail In fruit dishes. They are of filigree silver or painted porcelain. Salad bowls either match -lie service or are of cut or silver trimmed Bohemian glass. Coffee cups are of the low English pattern, or high and slender and set upon a gilded or filigree base. Among pretty odds and ends are little plates for bread and butter, bone dishes in half-moon shapes, asparagus plates, etc. Both goblets and tumblers are used; cut and engraved glass and the gilded French baccarat are all in vogue; wine glasses match in style. Quick Doughnuts. For quick doughnuts put a frying kettle half full of fat over the fire to heat. Sift together one pound of flour, one teaspoonful each of salt and bicarbonate of soda, and half a saltspoonful of grated nutmeg. Boat half a pound of sugar and quarter of a pound of butter to a cream and add them to the flour. Beat the yelks of two eggs to n cream, add them to the first named ingredients, boat the whites to a stiff froth and reserve them. Mix into the flour and sugar enough sour milk to make a soft dough and then quickly add the whites of the eggs. Roll out the paste at once, shape and fry.. Hints io Housekeepers. A barrel of pork weighs two hundred pounds. A flrkinof butter weighs fifty-six pounds. Strong ammonia and water will tako out grease spots. It is injurious to bathe within two hours of any meal. A persistent washing and rinsing in milk will remove an ink stain. To remove paint from cloihlng, saturate with turpentine until softened, then wash out with soap and water. To whiten the hands use oatmeal instead of soap to wash the hands. This will have the efiect both of softening and whitening them. New brushes that are an improvement on the feather duster have long handles. with the brush of lamb’s wool, which gathers the dust and holds it These brushes can be, and therefore should be, washed after using, when they are again made as white and soft as wool. Colds are frequently caused by putting on cold clothing or wraps. Never do this when it can be avoided, but let them hang before the fire for some time before nanted. One who is careful to do this and dresses in conformity with the weather will seldom contract cold from going out Cooking Conveniences, Long-handled spoons, that one may stir food without toasting the face. A cook’s knife of fine tempered steel of about the same size as the roast meat carver. This is to be used in the kitchen for cutting both cooked and uncooked meat