Democratic Press, Volume 1, Number 29, Decatur, Adams County, 2 May 1895 — Page 3

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CHAPTER 111. The hasty, unequal marriage made no | sensation. Few knew anything of Mr. llurst, except that he was one of the gen tiemen who visited the Hall. The beautiful girl who lived in the quite seclusion of Brynmar Woods was known and admired; no one expressed any surprise at hearing that she had married a “gentleman from London.” Stephen Hurst married the beautiful, simple country girl, and took her to London. He established h*?r in third-rate lodgings in Pimlico. When fortune fa vored him he supplied her liberally with tnoney; when it frowned he contented himself by abusing her. He was not naturally a cruel man: he would never rejoice in torture for torture’s sake, but he was selfish and egotistical, mean and false. It was some time before she discovered that he had no source of income save what be derived from gambling and bet ting. It was a bitter sorrow to her. She Implored him to try some honest method bf living: she offered to work for him, but he only laughed at her ideas, and told her when he could afford it he should open a gambling saloon at home. i Before long he did so, and then the real lorture of her life began for Magdalen Hurst. . Stephen Hurst seemed all at once to lose his good luck. He never touched a card without losing money; he grew tnoody and irritable, then desperate, and in an evil hour he fell into the lowest depths. He forged the name of a young nobleman who had frequently played at bis hous“. The forgery succeeded, and the sum of money he obtained was a large 1 one; but, as invariably happens, detection followed the crime closely. He was Watched, arrested and tried. The gay, dashing Stephen Hurst, who had purposely thrown off all principle, and hated all restraint, found himself now a prisoner ifor one of those crimes which the law punishes most severely. Then, when the World justly fell upon him. when good and <>ad looked alike with abhorrence upon him. he learned the value of a wife’s love. Magdalen Hurst clung to him still. Others might believe him guilty—he might be condemned and punished- it made no difference to her, he was her kin, though a fallen one. Woman-like, she loved him even more tenderly and jtruly in his adversity than she had done in his prosperity. Others blamed him; ahe knew how he had been tempted; she made a hundred excuses for him, even while she deplored his crime. When the day of his trial came men gazed with Wonder on the beautiful white face, so full pf anguish and despair. Her eyes never Jest him, and her lips quivered with every word that told against him. When the sentence of ten years’ transportation was given, one long, low cry, never forgotten by those who heard it, rang through the court, and Magdalen Hurst fell as one Bead. Five weeks before Stephen Hurst left England, little Hilda was born; he only saw her once. What there was of a better nature in him was touched when his fair young wife laid the little babe in his arms. He half wished he had been a better man; but the good impulse vanished almost before he kissed the little face. He made his wife promise that she would come to him if she could, and she intended at any cost to keep her word. Magdalen Hurst never knew how the day passed that took her husband away, it was one long dream of unutterable anguish. Awakening from it, she found herself alone in the great city of London —alone, save for her little child. She would not go home, where they would talk continually of the man she loved, where every idle word uttered against him would pierce her loving, faithful heart; so for three years Magdalen remained in the great city working hard to maintain herself ami her child. During that time Donald Burns and his wife died. Miss Erskine, who married Lord Hutton, returned with him from abroad, and went to Brynmar. Then Magdalen received a letter from her husband, begging her to go out to him; but she had not the means. She tried to save money, but found it impossible, out of her small earnings. Another year passed, and then Magdalen put aside her pride and went back to Brynmar. She found her foster-sister, Lady Hutton, In the bitterest depths of sorrow; her husband and little child, to whom she was passionately attached, were both drowned by the upsetting of a boat upon the lake. She stood upon the bank and saw them die before her eyes, unable to render them the least assistance; she saw her little daughter’s golden head disappear in the cold water; she saw her husband struggle in vain to save himself and his child. Many sun® rose and set before Lady Hutton saw anything again; and, on the very day that her husband and child were brought home to Brynmar to be buried, Magdalen Hurst reached the little cottage where her simple, happy childhood had been spent. She waited there many long weeks until Lady Hutton was able to see her; then, taking iittle Hilda by the hand, she went to the Hall. Sorrow and illness had so completely changed Lady Hutton, that her fostersister hardly knew her again. There was but little greeting between them until Lady Hutton’s eyes fell upon the child: then her pale face grew’ whiter, and her hands trembled. “Is that your child. Magdalen?” she asked. “Is that Stephen Hurst's daughter?” When Magdalen replied that it was, Lady Hutton led her to her own room, where hung the portrait of a lovely little girl, not unlike the one who gazed upon it. “See.” said she. “your child is like mine, Magdalen; you must give her to me; look at the violet eyes and the golden hair.” There was, indeed, some faint resemblance between the two fair little faces. “You want money, Magdalen,” said

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Ijady Hutton —“money to take you to your husband; you shall have it—as much i as you like to ask me for—if you will give i me your child. her be mine.” At first Magdalen Hurst was deaf to all , entreaties; she would not hear of it; then the master-passion of her life came into : play. He whom she loved had sent for j her, and sent again. She yielded at ; length, and consented that Lady Hutton | should adopt her child. It was a hard struggle; how hard none knew but her- 1 self. It was arranged at last to give little Hilda a trial; she was to visit Lady Hutton; if she appeared happy and contented her mother agreed to leave her there; if not, she would forego the great wish of her heart. But Hilda was quite contented; she liked her new and pretty dresses, the grand house, and. above all, the stately lady who so cold to everyone else, and so kind to her; for Lady Hutton loved the child with a love beyond all words, and when that little golden head rested on her heart it seemed as though her own Maud was there again. Better, a thousand times, the pattering of little feet than the hushed calm of a house where no child lives; better the musical prattle of a stranger’s voice than the unbroken silence; better the clasp of those tender little arms, the kisses of the sweet, childish lips, than the haunting memories that were never still. So for three weeks Magdalen Hurst lived alone in her iittle cottage, and then consented to part with her child. The conditions Lady Hutton made were hard ones, but she would not alter them. Hilda was to be as her own daughter; never again was Magdalen Hurst to claim her. or call Hilda her child; never, let what would happen. Lady Hutton .was liberal in hbr own way. She did not spare gold, and Magdalen Hurst left England amply provided for, and never saw the face of her fostersister again. CHAPTER IV. Ten years passed by and brought with them great changes to Brynmar. Sir Ralph and Lady Erskine slept with their ancestors in the family vault. Lady Hutton was sole mistress of the Hall and of the large fortune left by her father. She heard once from Magdalen Hurst; and I hen a silence, deep and unbroken as the silence of death, hid the mother of Lady Hutton’s ward from all who had ever known her. The letter was a brief one, stating that she had found her husband, and, in accordance with her promise, never told him to whom she had confided her child. Hilda had been adopted, she said, by a lady who did not wish her name to be known; he seemed quite indifferent about it, and asked no questions. Lady Hutton read correctly enough that a broken heart was revealed in every sad word of that letter. Magdalen Hurst sent no address; she asked no questions, and Hutton never heard from her again. Day by day Lady Hutton grew fonder of her adopted daughter. Hilda was taught to call her mamma, and in every way she was treated as her own child. No one knew the girl’s history, and even among the servants only a small number knew that she was Lady Hutton’s adopted daughter—most people believed her to be the lady’s own child. She was called Miss Hutton, of Brynmar, and it was generally known that she would inherit Lady Hutton’s fortune. No question ever came to Hilda as to what she would do with her life. Its calm, simple pleasures sufficed, she never looked beyond them; but Lady Hutton was ambitious for her. Day by day she watched the growth of that wondrous loveliness, and built her hopes upon it. The world she had given up and ceased to care for should smile upon her ward. She spared no pains over her education, and she rarely allowed her to be long out of her presence. As soon us she reached her seventeenth year Lady Hutton intended taking her to Izondon. With her beauty and prospects, lovers in plenty would surround her. and from them Lady Hutton decided she should choose the noblest and the best, but not one word of these plans did she ever mention to Hilda. “Her heart will be untouched,” thought Lady Hutton; “her fancy will be free, if I use my influence, she will marry whom I please, and that will be the most eligible man who presents himself. She will be something different from the general run of young ladies. 1 shall have no troublesome love affairs with her.” With her talents and wealth Lady Hutton could do much, but she could not control fate. Once, and once only, had the girl asked any questions about her parents. “Mamma.” she said one day to the stately mistress of Brynmar, “I am not your very owm daughter, am I?” “Who has been talking such nonsense to you, Hilda?” was the impatient question. “Elpaie. your old housekeeper,” replied Hilda. “She says I am your adopted daughter, and that I have another mother living away from here.” “Elpsie will leave Brynmar if I hear any more gossiping.” said Lady Hutton, haughtily. “Listen to me, Hilda. Yon are my adopted child; no one else in this world has any claim upon you. I had a little daughter all my own once, and when she was taken from me you supplied her place. Y'ou have no friend but myself.” “Lady Hutton,” said the young girl, earnestly, “who was my mother? Tell me something of her.” Her fair young face was pale and wistful. “There is nothing to tell you, my dear,” replied Lady Hutton; “she was my friend —we were children together—l adopted you; and surely. Hilda, you want no one else save me?” Seeing that the very mention of tho matter agitated and annoyed Lady Hutton, Hilda never alluded to it again; and as years passed on. and she grew older, the fact that she was only the adopted daughter of her stately benefactress grew more vague and indistinct. It was a pleasant life when Hilda reached her sixteenth year, for then Lady Hutton dismissed her governess and masters. “You must give yourself up to reading now.” she said, “for a few months, and then I will take you into what you will think another world.”

The large library was thrown open, and Lady Hutton selected the books, and Hilda read for the first time masterpieces of poetry and prose that enchanted her. Such reading was the one thing wanted to complete and perfect her. The beautiful young face which bent over the volumes was a poem in itself. It changed with every thought, sometimes glowing bright and radiant, again sorrowful and half sad. From the fairy world of poetry and romance she learned something of the mysteries of life, the mystery < f human love and human suf sering—never dreaming it would one day reach her. One beautiful morning in May. Hilda rose earlier than usual. Elpsie had told her on the previous evening that any lauy who for nine mornings together bathed her face in May dew would be beautiful forever. Hilda resolved to try it, and on this particular day rose almost with the sun. while the dew still lay upon the flowers, little dreaming that on that day the tragical story of her life would begin. A golden glow seemed to have fallen over the earth when Hilda stood on the hill near Brynmar woods; the air was full of an indescribable melody and fragranc?; the birds sang, the flowers bloomed, the hawthorn shone white upon the hedges; all was fresh, fair ami beautiful. Heaven seemed smiling upon the bright face of the earth. There was plenty of dew upon the heather; it glistened on the long blades of grass and shone upon the green leaves; and before long the fair young face was bathed in it. An artist meeting Hlida then would have sketched her and called his picture “The May Morning.” She looked just as fair and bright: the violet eyes were clear and iustrous; the beautiful face tinged with the loveliest color, and the golden hair waving over her graceful neck and shoulders. "I will walk home through the woods,” thought Hilda. The way was long and pleasant, and she lingered in the deep shades watching with loving eyes the wild flowers that grew round the tall trees; watching the bees, which could never decide whether cowslips, bluebells or primroses were the most delicious and sweet; forgetting, as the warm sunny hours rolled on, that Lady Hutton would be waiting for her, and that the time for breakfast had long passed. While looking at the flowers some pretty fantastic lines she had read came into her mind: “My own bluebell, my pretty bluebell. I have come from the bower where the roses dwell: My wings you view of your own bright hue. And, oh! never doubt that my heart’s true blue.” “What words!” said the young girl, laughingly, ns she bent over the bluebells, words to put on a butterfly’s lips!” Then in her rich, musical voice, she began to sing them. The sweet voice rose high in the clear morning air. until one could have fancied the trees, and flowers, and wind listened in hushed silence. Hilda thought she was quite alone, singing, as she gathered the pretty bluebells, but down the broadwood path there came a young and handsome man. He stood for a few minutes silently watching the beautiful golden-haired girl, doubting whether the figure before him was real. Turning suddenly. Hilda saw him. and a rush of color dyed her fair face crimson. He advanced toward her, holding his hat in his hand and bowing reverentially as though she were a princess. “I beg you to forgive me if I have alarmed you.” he said. “I have lost my way in the woods and cannot find the path to the high-road. Will you have the kindness to point it out to me?” “The one to the right,” replied Hilda, raising her eyes to the handsomest and noblest face she had ever seen. Then he should have bowed and l **ft her, and she should have walked away, never once looking behind; but the sun shone and the birds sang. They were both young, she beautiful and fair as tho morning; and instead of leaving her he spoke again. “These are bonny woods,” he said. “I have not seen fairer in all Scotland. They belong to the Brynmar estate, I suppose?” Hilda bowed. She had not recovered her powers of speech. Who was this handsome stranger? Where had he coiut from? “You are losing your bluebells.” he said, gallantly. He stooped and, gathering them together again, offered them to her “Those were pretty words I heard you singing,” he continued; “they are quite new to me. May 1 ask whose they are?” Hilda forgot her shyness then, and told him that she had read them the day before, and could not forget them. His eyes were riveted upon her beautiful face, his ears were charmed by the sound of her voice; he could have stood there, he thought, forever. Was ever picture so fair? In the soft light that fell through the green foliage, her fair face and golden hair shone brightly. He never forgot her as she stood then, with shy, drooping eyes, and the bluebells in her pretty white hands. He lingered until he knew he ought to go. “Will you give me one of those flowers?” he said, touching the bluebells; “just as a little memento of the most pleasant morning I ever spent, and the most beautiful picture 1 ever saw only one; I beg you will not refuse.” Half-smiling, half-coyly, she drew out a single flower, and offered it to him. His face flushed as he took it from her. Other words trembled upon his lips. He longed : to tell her how beautiful, how fair and modest she was. and that he could never forget her; he longed to ask her name, where she dwelt, and why she was alone in the shades of Brynmar woods. But he did none of these things—he bowed as he would have done to a queen, and left her. (To be continued.) Quite a Knowledgable Mule. Many instances are related of “presence of mind” in mules. One notable case was reported by Professor Wilder at a meeting of the Association for the Advancement of Science some years ago. He said a quartermaster’s mules at Pensacola, being shut out of a grass plot, one of them opened the gate held closed by a ball and chain, by hooking his heel under the ball and chain and then, after flve mules had passed in, one of those inside backed up and held the gate open for the one who had first opened the gate for its companions.— Brooklyn Eagle. Nice Discrimination. The Mohammedans believe in the existence of seven hells, the hottest of which is reserved for liars and hypocrites.

ALL ABOUT THE FARM SUBJECTS INTERESTING TO RURAL READERS. Hanging Feed Rack for Bbeei>—Advantages of a Movable Poultry House—De vice for Supporting Wagon Tongues. To Cure Self-Sucking Cows. Farm and Home says the cure of a seif-sucking cow is easilj effected by adjusting a halter and a surcingle

around the body just behind the fore . legs. Connect the ■ halter ring and surcingle with a stick 3 to 3t£ feet long, letting the stick hang between the cow’s fore legs. A i . short strap i to 6 inches long con-

SELF-SUCKING PREVENTED.

nects the stick to surcingle and baiter so as to give the stick some play. A j pad may be needed on the back under ‘ the surcingle as the latter sometimes cuts through the skin. In very persistent cases two sticks may be needed, one on each side of the cow, outside of her fore legs, to break from sucking. Afterward a single one will do. Feed Rack for Sheep. The usual method of feeding sheep has a number of disadvantages. When fed from the floor adjacent to their pen, the lambs are quite sure to be found walking all over the hay and grain, and making themselves generally at home In the uttermost parts of the barn. The sheep, moreover, wear off the wool from their necks and disfigure themselves when feeding through openings In the side of their pen. When the fodder is thrown I down from the floor above the pen an arrangement such as is shown in the illustration may be found serviceable. ! It is a hanging rack with slats all around it and made narrow at the bottom so that the flock can reach even the last spear of hay. There will be no crowding with such an arrangement. The feed will not be soiled, and the pen can be kept closed so that the lambs cannot escape from it Even when the fodder is not thrown down from the floor above such a rack may HANGING FEED RACK. be hung near the side of the pen, and the hay thrown over into it from the feeding floor, giving much more feeding space to the flock than would a rack nailed against the side of the pen.—Orange Judd Farmer. Why the Churn Churns. The most plausible theory for the separation of the butter fat in cream by the churn, is that the fat globules in milk and cream being surrounded by a thin layer of liquid cream serum, the concussion of the churning causes the usually round, uniform, floating globules to harden Into Irregular shapes, which results In their adhering to each other until the enlarging grannies of butter can be seen by the naked eye. For some time before the butter “comes,” or the cream "breaks," the fat globules have been massing together, and the usually rapid increase in size after they are visible is due to the greater surface exposed, just as a rolling snowball grows fastest at the last The factors which affect the completeness of the churning are stated by Director J. L. Hills of Vermont to include the food of the cows, the period of their lactation, the creaming and ripening, the size and kind of churn, with the heat and density of the cream. There seems, however. to be no relation between the sourness of the cream, the temperature, the curd In the butter, and the time needed for churning. Forcing Early Rhubarb. The most common method of forcing an early and large growth of rhubarb was to place an upright barrel over the plant with both heads open, and the pile around it a mass of horse manure to decompose and increase the warmth. At night when the weather is cold the top of the barrel should be covered with a mat to exclude the frost It used to be supposed that the manure thus applied furnished plant food as well as heat lieally, however, it gives little of either. The barrel with open head covered at night warms the soil around the plant better than does the manure which obstructs the sun’s rays. A very small amount of composted manure dug into the soil Inside the barrel will give more plant food for immediate use than will a big pile of coarse manure outside. The most of the heat Inside the barrel comes from the sun's rays uoth inside and outside It. The barret should, however, be wrapped in a blanket on cold nights, besides being covered at the top so as to hold the heat gained during the day. Rotation in the Garden. However fertile the soil of a garden, if planted year after year it will often become badly infested by worms, grubs and other Insects. If plant food is supplied in the shr_ie of stable manure, the insect pests are all the more likely to become numerous. For this, as well as for other reasons, rotation

Is as Important in the garden as in the field. A good pran is to have a garden twice as large as Is required for vegetables, and keep one-half in clover, with frequent alternations. Early Corn for Fodder. It is so important for securing the ' best results on corn for fodder or en- i silage that it should nearly reach the stage for ripening ears that only the early sorts should be drilled for these purposes wherever there Is any doubt on this subject. Sometimes, too. a I drought late in summer cuts the crop, destroying that which ripens latest. I while the early corn has matured and i is out of the way of injury. Even in a season without drought, it is important to get the corn fodder cured or put in the ensilage pit before the fall rains. The common New England Flint varieties will not give so large i a bulk of fodder as will the Southern • and Western Dent corn, but they will ; have a higher nutritive value in pro- : portion to the expense of making and harvesting the crop.—American Cultivator. A Movable Hennery. On stubble fields there is often a great deal of food which, if the fowls can be induced to forage sufficiently, would amount to a considerable quantity of food. In some countries, according to the American Agriculturist, the young fowls are housed in a small, lightly-constructed buildMOVING THE POULTRY HOUSE. Ing on wheels, of a weight not too heavy for a horse to draw, and of a size to accommodate from fifty to seventy chickens. The birds are quartered in it and drawn to the field, where I they are fed once or twice in the house i to accustom them to it Then they are supplied with plenty of water and 1 turned upon the stubble, changing I them about to fresh forage as often as j they seem to require new ground, to j find sufficient of the fallen grain. If | the house be built of half-inch match- j ed boards, it will be found light enough | to be moved easily, and will prove quite ! a saving in feed from year to year. Fences on the Farm. A great deal less fencing is used now than when the country was newer. It can be still further diminished, not only without decrease of production, but with the effect of making the farm product greater. Before making a fence to save a little pasture, it is well to make an estimate whether it would not j be cheaper to let the grass grow and I cut it. or at the worst to let it fail on the land as manure. If the little pasture is a field of young clover, either one of these last-named methods will prove more profitable than turning the stock on it So long as fencing material I was abundant farmers used to cut it Into rails and surround fields with them as the best way of disposing of surplus wood. But a well-fenced farm Is now not valued so highly as one without fences, but in which the more important point of maintaining soil fertility has been attended to. Support for Wagon Tongues. The Scientific American describes a new wagon tongue support which has been patented by a man in California. The accompanying illustration shows how it is used. It is very simple, consisting of two plates fastened to the front and rear sides of the axle by means of bolts. On the front plate are two elongated lugs, which are apertured to receive the supporting arms. The latter are preferably of stout wire, aud have a NEW WAGON TONGUE SUPPORT. vertical section held in place by a set screw. It Is not necessary to connect the arms to the tongue; the latter simply rests upon them. Crown as Melon Thieves. Melon growers have a new enemy to guard against. Those in some parts of Delaware found large holes pecked in the melons and were at first unable to decide what was responsible. Watching the patches closely they found a colony of crows walking over the field at early morning and pocking the melons just enough to make them unsalable. One hundred melons were ■ thus destroyed in one field before the thieves were recognized and driven away. Farm Notes. Never allow cows to drink water that you would not drink yourself. Milk from common cows, when grass fed, contains nearly 87 per cent water. The cow has no filter in her to purify water, and if the water is Impure the Impurity goes straight into the milk. Orchard grass is excellent for per- ‘ manent pasture; timothy lasts but a few years, and clover less. A good i mixture is five pounds red clover, four I pounds timothy fourteen pounds Kentucky blue grass and five pounds orchard grass. The first two make the good pasture in the start Grow a large crop of potatoes. This country buys large quantities of potatoes from Scotland. Do not be afraid of low prices. If potatoes can not be sold at a profit they can be utilized at home for stock. Considering the large possible yield from potatoes they should always prove profitable.

$’ ’ 'l3 Table Etiquette. Children should be taught to drink as little as possible while eating. Fruit is not to be bitten; it should be peeled and cut with a fruit knife. Never drum with the fingers upon the table—or with the feet upon the floor. “Better is a dinner of herbs where love is than a stalled ox and hatred therewith.” No gentleman will ever place his arms upon the table, either before, during or after a meal. Meats are to be cut with a single gliding movement of the knife, not by converting it into a saw. Keep the elbows always close to the side, no matter how ample be the room between guests. Never hurry the dinner; let everything come along promptly on time, and move steadily thereafter. Iced oysters or clams are to be eaten with lemon juice dropped—never with salt and pepper. Be punctual—to keep a dinner party waiting under any circumstances is the gravest social indecorum. Take soup onlr from the side of the spoon-unless wearing a mustache; never sip it with an audible sound. Never play w’ith the knife or fork, or other table utensils: do not touch at all. except when about to use them. He lives longest and most safely who at dinner and elsewhere turns down bis glasses and “tastes not the cup.” If an accident of any kind should occur during the dinner, do not seem to notice it—unless help may be quietly given. Fish is to be taken with a fork only; it should be carried to the mouth with the tines of the fork pointing downward.—Good Housekeeping. Ironing Hints. In ironing shirts use heavy irons, well heated. First iron the thick bands, then the sleeves and body, and last the bosom, which should first be rubbed over with a cloth wrung out of warm water. Then the iron should be passed over rapidly and the bosom again rubbed over with a damp cloth and Ironed until it is polished and thoroughly dry. To gloss the linen a smooth, round-edged iron should be used. All laces and embroideries should be Ironed by the thread of the material, and on the wrong side. Lemon Pudding. Blend 2 teaspoons of cornstarch in a little cold water; pour on this 1 pint of boiling water, add to this 1 tablespoon butter, yelks of 2 eggs well beaten, juice and rind of 1 lemon. % cup sugar and a little salt; pour this into a pudding dish and place in the oven while you make the frosting. Take the whites of the 2 eggs. % cup sugar. Pour this over tlie pudding in the oven and brown. To be eaten cold or hot Use granulated sugar for frosting. Cream Salmon. One can of salmon minced fine after liquor is drained off. For the dressing, boll one pint of milk, two tablespoonfuls of butter, salt and pepper to taste. Have ready one pint of fine bread crumbs, place a layer In the bottom of the dish, then a layer of fish, and so on until the dish is full, having crumbs for the last layer. Bake until brown. Baked Omelet. Four eggs, whites and yelks beaten separately. 1 cup milk, small piece of butter put into milk and warmed, 1 tablespoon flour and a pinch of salt stirred irto yelks, add the milk, whites beaten to a stiff froth and well stirred in the last thing. Be sure to have the dish well buttered. Bake from 20 to 30 minutes. Cold Tea in Apple Pie. It Is said that a little cold tea added to the next apple pie will elicit a call for another just like it, but whether this goes Into the crust or the apples is not deemed worthy of mention—Philadelphia Ledger, Potato Balls. Small potatoes are very nice cooked in this way. Peel them and boil In salted water; do not let them boil until they are soft; beat one egg and have ready some fine cracker crumbs; roll the potato in the egg, and then in the cracker, and fry in butter till a light brown, turning frequently that the color may be uniform. Browned, PotatoesBoil, mash and season potatoes ready to be eaten, then heap them on a plate, smooth them over the tep with a knife dipped in hot water, pour over them the beaten yelks of two eggs, browm them in a hot stove a few minutes. Ginsjer Snaps. Two cups of New Orleans molasses, one cup lard or butter; boll them together and when cold add one tablespoonful each of soda and ginger, a little salt if lard was used. Roll thin. Bake quickly. The apparent depth of water is always deceptive, because the light reflected from the bottom is refracted as it leaves the water. Water is generally about one-third deeper than it appears o be. Where the Grip Is at Home. At last the savants of Great Britain have fixed the source of the Influenzas they trace it to Russia and decree it to be an ally of cholera. It Is a pity that cholera does not attack the influenza and exterminate it The disease is traced in particular to Russian churches, immense chilly edifices, which are never ventilated, never washed, and in whose crevices the influenza microbe and the cholera microbe fraternize.