Democratic Press, Volume 1, Number 48, Decatur, Adams County, 12 September 1895 — Page 7

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—, CHAPTER XXXVII. * change to London was a pleasant eno; every part of the castle at Bayneani was full of associations and memories: here, in London, it was different. ix>ra Bayneham coaid enter a room without remembering the last time he saw his wile there. It was pleasing to see Bertie every day; his society was bracing. Active, energetic, persevering, Bertie did more toward the young Earl’s recovery than any one else. ' heer up. Claude.” he would say; “all mysteries are cleared in the end.* Take my word for it. the time will como when you will discover Hilda and understand all about her flight. Be patient and brave.” Neither Bertie nor Barbara would comply with Lord Bayneham’s wish, and arrange anything for their marriage. \V e will wait until you are happier,” said Barbara, in answer to her cousin’s arguments; and he knew his two faithful friends would not rejoice while he was in sorrow. One morning—it was the end of May, a morning when even to live and to breathe is a luxury—Lord Bayneham went out early. He strolled on toward Kensington Cardens, and attracted by the beauty and fragrance of the spring blossoms, he entered the gardens and walked leisurely up and down the paths. There was no fashionable crowd, it was too early for that: but there were many pretty, happy little children with their attendants and nurses. Light footsteps tripped to and fro; musical voices tilled the clear spring air; silvery laughter rippled on the breeze. It was pleasant to watch the little ones at their play. Lord Bayneham sat down upon one of the garden benches; there was a sad, wistful smile upon bis face as he gazed Upon the children. There was a sharp pain in his heart. No child climbed his knee and called him father; no little hands clasped his; no tender little lips touched bis face. He would never bear the music of children’s voices in his lonely home. Sad, solitary, and desolate he sat in the spring sunshine, wondering why Providence had dealt so hardly by him. The springing blossoms, the blue sky. the clear sweet air. the rich perfume of the music of the birds, the glory that reigned around him. smote him with pain. Life and love, beauty and happiness seemed to fall to every one's lot; he alone had no hope. Why. it was just such a morning as this when be had met his lost, loved wife in Brynmar woods.

Just then Lord Bayiiehaui's attention was drawn to a most beautiful boy. He was seemingly three or four years old. with the charming face that the old masters used to give to angels—sweet red smiling lips, eyes of the darkest, deepest blue. The little head was covered with curls—beautiful golden tendrils—gleaming in the sunshine. He was a noble, princely boy. and the Earl watched him with great admiration. He was with a gentleman, but Lord Bayneham could not see the gentleman's face: it was hidden from him by the thick foliage of the trees. The little boys' amusement consisted in gathering blades of grass, and running with them to his guardian. He evidently considered this a great feat, and indulged in cries of delight. A bright yellow flower grew in the green grass close to where Lord Bayneham was sitting. The child saw it, and ran eagerly to gather it. and the smile that broke over his charming face was so irresistible that Lord Bayneham stooped and raised him in his arms. "You must not run away with me,” said the child, in his pretty little way. "I am mamma's own boy.” "1 will not.” said the Earl, gravely: “sit here on my knee, and I will show you mv watch.” The child was delighted with the glittering watch and chain. -Will you give me these for my own?” he asked. -\Ve will see about that.” said Lord Bayneham: “tell me what your name is.” “Lionel,” replied the little one. "Lionel—and what else?” asked the "Mamma's Lionel,” said the little boy, raising his beautiful eyes to the sad face above him. Lord Bayneham was strangely moved by that look: surely in some dream ho had | seen eyes like those. Then he bent down and ki-sed the little face, smoothing the bright golden curls as he did so. -I wish I had a little boy like you," he said to the child; “I have no little son.” And I have no papa,” replied the child, quickly. . “Lionel,” cried a voice familiar to Lord Bavneham, “where are you?" " Yrnir little boy is quite safe," said the Earl, courteously. •■[ fear he is teasing you. Why, Lord Bavneham!—is it possible?" •■Captain Massey!” cried the Earl, rising in glad surprise. "I thought you were in India.” „ "I reached home last week, said (daptain Massey. . •■How long have you been away t inquired Lord Bayneham. -Three years," was the short reply, ami the Earl wondered at the changed, cool gnanner of his friend. ■•I am delighted to see you, he continued holding out his hand, but, to his surprise, the Captain affected not to see “Is this your little son?” asked Lord Bavneham. . . , „ •■'Xo ” replied the Captain, a dark flush covering his honest face. “I am not marr!"l never saw a more lovely child.” continued the Earl; “I cannot part with hint *"1117 Captain looked anxious and unf "Who is he?” asked Lord Bayneham. ..r must make friends with his parents for the little boy's sake. I am charmed with him."

Laptain Massey made no reply; there . was a constrained, miserable silence. Massey,” said Lord Bayneham, at i *ength. "I cannot understand you. We parted three years ago the best of friends —now you will not touch my hand. You look shyly at me; you barely answer my Questions. What has changed you?—in what have I offended you?” The honest, fearless eyes that met his own had a deep shadow in them. “There is no need for any explanations,” he replied, shortly. “But there is need,” said Lord Bayneham. “I liked you, Massey, and have been proud to call you my frined. What have I done that you are my friend no I longer?” * P,? es not your owu conscience tell you =■’” asked Captain Massey, gravely. “My conscience!” said Lord Bayneham in utter wonder; “no, certainly not; I am at a loss how to understand you. I am very unhappy—no man living is so unhappy as I—but on my conscience there rests no stain.” “I have no sight to speak,” said Cai>tain Massey, turning away; “come Lionel. it is time we returned home.” But the child clung with both arms round Lord Bayneham. “I like this gentleman,” he said; “I will not leave him.” Captain Massey’s* face grew’ strangely pale. The Earl saw’ his lips move, and ( he looked on in mute surprise. “What is it, my old friend?” said Lord , Bayneham. “What specter have you i raised that stands between you and me?” Then Captain Massey turned, and ’ looked straight into the changed, worn “I w’ould not shake hands with you,” he said. “I do not wish to speak to you; but if you will have it, you must. Answer me, Lord Beyneham! What have I you done with your wife?” Lord Bayneham started, and looked at his friend with wondering eyes. The ques- ! tion pierced him with sharp pain. “My wife!” he repeated, with white, i quivering lips. “I would give my life I this moment to know where she is. I would gladly die if I might look on her ; face once more.” “But,” said Captain Massey, surprised in his turn, “you sent her from you!” “Never!” interrupted Lord Bayneham. 1 “Only heaven knows what her flight has • cost me! Who told you so cruel a story, | Massey? and how could you believe it j of me?” “Never mind who told me,” said the : Captain, “if it is not true. I never saw a woman so fair, so true, or so pure as I your wife. Y’ou should have overlooked what she could not help—her parentage.” “I knew nothing of it when she left me.” said Lord Bayneham, sadly. “I j should have overlooked that, and much more, for love of my wife.” “Y’ou knew nothing of it!” said the Captain, still more surprised. “Then why I did you send her away?” “I did not,” replied the Earl; “her flight was a mystery to ine until I stood by her father’s death-bed. I understood it I then.” Captain Massey looked, as he felt, bewildered. “I do not know what you have heard,” continued Lord Bayneham, “but you are my friend. Y’ears ago, Massey, you loved my wife. I pardon your words; will you listen to me while I tell you—what few know—the story of my darling’s loss?” With the little golden head pillowed on bis heart, Lord Bayneham told bis story. “I have spent a fortune,” he said, “in advertisements. I believe al) England has been searched, but in vain. Whether she is living or dead, I know not. I know’ one thing—living or dead. I shall be true to her; no one shall ever take her place. I would freely, joyfully give all I have in the world to see her once more, j It was all a mistake, Massey; a terrible I mistake. I was jealous and impatient, and most bitterly have I suffered for it. Do you not see that I am old before my time-worn out with sorrow and suspense? God keep all from suffering as I have done.” “It is a strange story,” said the Captain, musingly. “No more strange than true,” said Lord Bayneham. “Ah, Massey. I must reproach you. What have you ever seen in me that could lead you to believe me capable of sending my wife from me, because her father was not all he should have been? I should but have loved her the more fur it. I knew nothing of and cared nothing for her family, when I married her. How could you think that, in the hour of her trouble, 1 should drive her from me?—l. who have never ceased praying, with weeping eyes, that I might see her again.” The two friends then sat and talked, unconscious of the swift passing time. Lord Bayneham thought his friend strangely reserved, even after his explanation. True. Captain Massey grasped his hand and begged his pardon for the suspicions so unjust and unfounded; but, after all. ho was very quiet. He did not seem to enter into or sympathize with any of the Earl's plans for the finding of his lost wife. He listened with a far-off look on his face; and Lord Bayneham, whose heart was in his words, felt pained by his want of interest. “We must go,” said the Captain, at length, taking out his watch. “Come, Lionel; mamma will be frightened, we have been out three hours.” “Y’ou have not told me my little friend’s name,” said Lord Bayneham, as he unwillingly untwined the little arm? from his neck. “I shall be pleased to see him again.” “He is called Lionel,” said the Captain, carelessly. “His mother is a friend of my mother’s. Come and dine with us tomorrow, Lord Bayneham; we are still living in the old house at Kew. My mother will be pleased to see you—yon were always a great favorite of hers.” “No, I think not,” replied Lord Bayneham. “I have no heart or spirits for visiting. Come and see me—that will be better. Lady Bayneham and Miss Earle will be delighted to welcome you home again.” “I shall hold little Lionel here as an inducement,” said Captain Massey. “Come and dine with us to-morrow; then you shall be introduced to him in proper form, and perhaps be allowed the privilege of having him on a visit—a great favor, I assure you. What do you say,

Lionel? Do you wish this gentleman to come and see me?” “Oh. yes!” cried the child, clinging t<i Lord Baym-ham’s hand; “do come.” The pretty, childish voice prevailed, and the Earl said, with a smile, “1 wilt At what hour do you dine?” “At seven,” replied Captain Massey “Call for me at my chambers,” he con* tinned, giving Lord Bayneham a card, “ami we will drive down together.” “At y»»ur chambers!” said Lord Bayne* ham. “Why, are you not living at Lome?” “No,” said the Captain, and again q dull flush burned his face. “My mother has visitors in the house, and I have business in London. Cail for me als»ut five.” Then they parted, and Lord Baynehaix returned home. Lord Bayneham told the Countess anc Barbara Earle of his meeting with Captain Massey, and of the beautiful little child who was with him; the finest, sweetest child he had ever seen. Lady Bayneham thought him in better spirits, He smiled as he described the boy cling, ing to him, and his face had not looked so bright for years. Lady Bayneham*! eyes filled with tears as she listened t< him. “I am thankful for anything thai arouses his interest,” she said to Bar baru Earle; “but my heart aches when 1 think that he will never smile upon a child of his own.” “We will hope for the best,” said Barbara. “sorrow endures for a time. Joy generally comes after it, and if not joy, peace.” Lord Bayneham was haunted by tht little face; it shone before him all day, hs saw it in his dreams by night—the sweet trusting eyes, the bright clustering curli —and he smiled at his own folly. “I must be in love with the child,” ha* said. “1 long to see him again.” (To be continued.) HE MADE NO SALE. The Persistent Young; Man Failed to Accomplish His Purpose. The young man was polite but per. sistent. He invaded the office, hat ii» hand, and waited patiently until the elderly man looked up from his work. “Excuse me, sir,” he said, when he saw he had the business man’s attention. “I am taking orders for trousers.” “Don’t want any,” said the busines: man. shortly. “Pardon me.” persisted the young man, “but if you will kindly look at my samples ” “It would only be a waste of time,” interrupted the business man. “I will measure you for them right here and you need not lose five minutes from your business,” continued the young man, paying no attention to the interruption. “But I don’t want any,” insisted the elderly man. “Very well, sir. I regret ” Just then his eye fell on a smaller desk in the corner and he saw a possible opportunity to do a little business after all. “Might I ask who occupies that desk ?”

“My private secretary,” replied the business man. "Do you suppose ” “Wliy, yes, possibly you might." The business man was suddenly Interested. “It’s worth trying, anyway.” “When can I ” "Come back in about an hour.” “Thank you, sir. I will." Then the business man became so Interested in some mental pictures that he conjured up that he forgot all about his work for nearly fifteen minutes. It was just about an hour later that the young man came back. He entered in a business-like way and then stopped, stammered something In a confused sort of way and started to back out "Come in!” called the old man cheerily. “Anything I can do for you?” “N-n-no, thank you.” And he was gone. "What a queer acting man,” said the private secretary, looking after him. "Isn’t he, Miss Blank?” returned the business man innocently. “I think It must be one of the effects of woman In business.” A Distressing Incident It was a serious moment in the Jennings family. Helen Jennings was in tears, and tried to speak, but Mr. Jen. nings stopped her with a sad gesture. Mrs. Jennings wiped her glasses, and prepared to read a letter that she had just found in Helen’s pocket To think that their Helen, who had not been long In her teens—their Helen, who was so sweet and good and straightforward, should have a letter like this. Mrs. Jennings read in a trembling voice: “ ‘Angel of my existence- ——’ ” “What!” exclaimed Mr. Jennings, “does anyone dare to address our little Helen like that But go on, my dear.” “ ‘Existence’ spelled with an ‘a,’ too!” said Mrs. Jennings. "Really! The idiot can’t spell.” exclaimed the indignant father. "But let us hear the rest” “ ’lt is impossible for me to describe the joy with which your presence has tilled me —-’ ” “What does he try to describe it sot, then, the ignoramus? But don’t let me interrupt you,” groaned Mr. Jennings. “ -I think of you constantly, and I bitterly condemn the obstinate, unfeeling purse proud old party who will not consent to our union.' ” ‘“Old party! obstinate, unfeeling'— and I have been the kindest of fathers'! When I see this young man I will—The man that could pen these words—But go on, my dear.” “Theodore. I did not see this overleaf till now,” murmured Mrs. Jennings, faintly. “Eh? Let me see. Hum! ‘Yours, with all the love of my heart, Theodore. May 10th, 1835.* Why, bless my soul, it's one of my own letters.” “Yes, papa,” said Helen, drying her tears, aud taking advantage of the pause that at last gave her an opportunity to speak. “I found it just now, and 1 was going to explain, only you would not let me say a word.”—Hartford Times.

IREALRURALREADING WILL BE FOUND IN THIS DEPARTMENT. Wonderful Effect of Foreign Pollen on Plants—Home-Made Device for Keeping Milk Cool-Advantages of a Low-Hung Farm Wagon. Effects of Artificial Pollination. The most important plants showing tile effects of foreign pollen are the pea. kidney bean, American corn and possibly the orange. W. N. Munson, of the Maine experiment station states that sweet corn shows the effects of foreign pollen more frequently than other varieties, but plants in the cucumber, potato and rose families frequently show the effects of foreign pollen to a wonderful extent. The most important examples of agamic development of fruits result in the egg plant and the English forcing cucumber. The latter is usually deformed by the production of seeds TOMATOES WITH Mil H AND LITTLE POLLEN. and the consequent enlargement of the apex, though the amount of pollen does not usually determine the extent of the deformity. The amount of fruit produced by certain varieties of strawberries appears to vary in some instances with the amount of pollen supplied by the variety used as fertilizer. The form and size of tomatoes are directly dependent on the amount of pollen furnished, as shown in the illustration. But not alone in garden vegetables are the effects of artificial or of cross fertilization apparent. Prof. Waite, of the U. S. Department of Agriculture, a few years ago clearly demonstrated that certain varieties of pears and apples were unprofitable to plant unless grafted with some fertile variety or planted among trees whose pollen was fertile. The same rule applies to many of our best strawberries, notably the Crescent, and flowers partake of the same peculiarity in nature to a remarkable degree.—Farm and Home. An Effective Well Creamery. Over a well of cool water I erected a suitable covering to protect It from the hot sun, and the dairy operator and his appliances from Inclement weather as well. A three-block fall and tackle is fastened in the roof over the center of the well. Two pieces of wood 2x6 inches are nailed one end to the well curb and the other end to the roof frame; these are set parallel 2% feet apart and have holes of suitable size into which are inserted the ends of an iron pipe 2% inches In diameter and three feet in length. To one end of the pipe is attached an old cutting box balance wheel with handle. The rope from the pulley block is secured to the iron pipe, and, turning the wheel, very easily lowers or raises the cage, which Is fastened to one of the pulleys. The cage or elevator is constructed of wood (galvanized Iron would be better), as follows: To a 4x4 timber, four feet long, are attached two circular platforms three feet in diameter; these platforms are twenty-two inches apart. On the lower one the cans containing milk and cream are placed, on the upper one crocks of butter or other articles that one desires to keep cool. The caus are made of heaviest tin Sta inches in diameter and 20 in height To them are secured handles five inches from the top; on these handles set the can covers, which are nine inches in dlam-

nwFßis Ko? ’■ rps wrnunu DEVICE FOB COOLING MILK. eter at the closed end, flaring to ten inches at the other end. These covers are six Inches deep, and wlirn in proper place on the cans there is considerable air space over and around the top of the cans, allowing the gas and odors to escape, but preventing the water from entering when all are submerged tn the well. Milk is set for twentyfour hours. Each morning and evening the cage is raised, new milk is put on, and that which has been on for twenty-four hours is skimmed. This skimmed milk is always sweet.-—J. S. Fowler, in American Agriculturist. Grube at Strawberry Roots. Alexander MacLellan, in the Florists' Exchange, says: “I have found nitrate of soda a sure cure, or, rather, a preventive of destruction to strawberry plants by the larvae of the May beetle. My plan Is to give a light application, sowing Just before rain. Os course, it could be applied in solution. I have also used soda on asters where the grubs had commenced work with like good

' effect. Os course, this could be used on any garden crop, but don’t give too I much at a time; rather repeat the dose in the course of three or four weeks. As the soda induces a rank vegetable growth, it will be well to use it sparingly where flowers arc wanted, such as sweet peas.” Economy in Weeil Destruction. There are some farmers who still think that there is nothing lost in allowing weeds to grow on land that has no crop, provided the weeds are cut down before going to seed. It is true that the weed contains all the mineral and nitrogenous plant food that it has taken from the soil. When it decays, as it lies, most of this Is returned to the soil. But there is always some waste, and if it were otherwise the plant food in the weed is not available fertility as that which it took from the soil during its growth. The time when a weed can be destroyed with greatest benefit to the soil is immediately after it has germinated. This is also the easiest time to kill ft. The worst weeds, like the perennial Canada thistle, for example, are, when first germinated, as easily killed as are any of the annual weeds. The slightest brush with a hoe will destroy them. Leave them a few weeks, and these perennial weeds begin to form their underground system of roots, and it takes a long time to accomplish what could so easily have been done at first Slipshod Poultry. Farmers, as a rule, pay but little attention to poultry. Most of them, however, have a few running about the barnyard, but give them little or no care, says rhe New England Farmer. Possibly, a pailful of grain is thrown out to them once or, at most, twice a week. If you ask the general run of farmers whether they give any of their time to poultry, the answer usually is, “Well, no; the woman folks gather what eggs there are, and raise a fewyoung ones, but they don't pay.” No, of course they don’t pay when not looked after. Would their cattle, their horses or their swine pay if they were attended to in such a slipshod and ridiculous fashion? Poultry will not pay unless properly cared for and attended to. Lime in the Food. While we believe sow-ls should have lime given them to eat at will it is generally better to give them food that is itself rich in this mineral. Chopped clover is an excellent feed to make hens lay, as it contains both lime and nitrogenous matter. Peas are also rich in lime and excellent for laying hens. Whole or cracked wheat is also a lime food, and can be given freely, though it should follow a feed of chopped clover, so that the food may not be too concentrated and fatten the fowls instead of making them lay.—Ex. Low-Hung Wagon. Low-hung farm wagons are a great convenience and save lots of lifting. A simple, home-made device of this kind is illustrated. The rail about the

>l3 A LOW-HUSO WAGoy. sides can be removed or put into place in a moment, or light chains can be used in place of it. Several styles of lowdown milk wagons, hay carts, etc., are also manufactured and have a wide sale and growing popularity. Remedy for Pear-Blight. This disease is most apt to affect the Bartlett, Seckel and winter varieties—trees that are strong, vigorous growers. The disease is not very well understood. but it is supposed to be produced by an excess of sap. It always breaks out during a hot, sultry and very damp season, like we are having at the present time. Sometimes only a single branch will be affected, then again several in different parts of the tree, and at rare instances the entire tree will be scorched, as if by lightning. The leaves will turn, at first a dark-brown, then black, and, if the branch is cut into, the wood will be found discolored. Barbed Wire with Hedges. The chief difficulty in making barbed wire a safe and effective fence is that the wires strung on posts are not easilyseen. Animals running loose in pasture do not avoid the barbs until they have been severely injured. But when the same wires are strung through a hedge it is different. The animal pushes until it feels the sharp barbs and then desists. Two or three barbed wires put through a hedge and connected with it at intervals of a few feet will make an effective protection against most animals. Stormy Days on the Farm. If storms prevail, muster every hand to a bee for cleaning the barns, carriage house and sheds, and preparing the stables for winter occupancy. Sweep down all the dust and cobwebs, take out the window sashes, wash every part clean, and after it has dried put in new glass and putty wherever it is needed. Then paint each sash carefully, and you will be surprised to see how much more light a single pane will aijmit. Feed for Growing Hoge. Millers, during the grain season, want all the room in their bins for grain and will sell bran and middlings much cheaper than later. There is nothing better than fine wheat middlings with skim milk to make pigs grow. The amount of feed can be greatly increased by cooking the wheat middlings with small potatoes, refuse apples and the waste vegetables from the garden, all of which when cooked are eagerly eaten by pigs.

Corn Canning for Family Use. To can corn split the kernel lengthwise with a knife, then scrape with the back of the knife, thus leaving the hulls upon the cob. Fill cans full of cut corn, pressing it in very hard. To press the corn in the can. use the small end of a potato masher, as this will enter the can easily. It will take from ten to twelve large ears of corn to till a quart can. When the cans are full, screw cover on with thumb and first finger—this will be tight enough—then place a cloth in the bottom of a wash boiler to prevent breakage. On this put a layer of cans in any position you prefer, over the cans put a layer of cloth, then a layer of cans. Fill the boiler in this manner, then cover the cans well with cold water, place the boiler on the fire, and boil three hours without ceasing. On steady boiling depends much of the success. After boiling three hours, lift the boiler from the fire, let the water cool, then take the cans from the boiler and tighten, let them all remain until cold, then tighten again. Wrap each can in brown paper to exclude the light, and keep in a cool, dry cellar, and be very sure the rubber rings are not hardened by use. The rings should be renewed every two years. I would advise the beginner to use new rings entirely, for poor rings cause the loss of canned fruit and vegetables in many cases. You will observe that in canning corn the cans are not wrapped in cloth nor heated; merely filled with the cut corn. The corn In the cans will shrink considerably in boiling, but on no account open them after canning.

Helpful Hints. Cereals may lie made palatable even to those who begin by disliking them if they are prepared properly. They should not be boiled simply in water, but in a mixture of equal parts of milk and water. They should not be stirred, for stirring makes them starchy, but cooked in a double boiler. A dainty morsel for the hungry half hour before bedtime is “cheese crackers.” Spread thin zephyrettes or salted crackers with a little butter and sprinkle lightly with grated Parmesan cheese. Place on a dish in the oven long enough to brown them slightly. These will keep for several days. For exceedingly damp or warm weather during the summer an excellent expedient for keeping the hair in curl, both for the loiterer at fashionable resorts and the stay-at-homes, is the use of alcohol. The hair should be wet with alcohol and then curled. If this Is tried satisfactory results are sure to follow. Look Well to the Baby. Keep your baby clean. Give him pure air at all times. Let him have a few spoonfuls of water several times a day. Do not let every one kiss him. Do not let any one jostle, and shake, and ticklo him. Do not keep him so warm that ho cannot sleep. Babies, as a rule, are bundled up too much. Do not neglect him, and then, when he cries for some needed attention, say that he is a “cross, bad-tempered little nuisance.” A healthy baby seldom cries when his wants are properly filled, and a sickly one certainly has a perfect right to make life a burden to those who allowed It to become so. Do act as if you expected your child to grow up a healthy being every way; look hopefully into the future, and therefore do not worry needlessly.

Chocolate Marble Cake. Put one ounce chocolate and one tablespoonful of butter in a cup and set this in a pan of boiling water. Beat to a cream half a cupful of butter and one cupful of sugar. Gradually beat in half a cupful of milk. Now add the whites of six eggs, beaten to a stiff froth, one teaspoonful of vanilla and a cupful and a half of sifted flour, in which is mixed one teaspoonful of baking powder. Put about one-third of this mixture into another bowl and stir the melted butter and chocolate into it. Drop the white-and-brown mixtures in spoonfuls into a well-buttered deep cake pan and bake in a moderate oven for about fortyfive minutes; or, the cake can be baked in a sheet and iced with a chocolate or white icing. A Dainty Course. At a recent luncheon one of the daintiest courses consisted merely of a whipped syllabub and lady fingers. The syllabub was heaped in gold eggshells, each one of which was fitted into a gold standard. It was eaten with a gold spoon, and the lady fingers, which were passed with the syllabub, were tied with yellow ribbons. The syllabub was made after the following recipe: One pintos cream, rich and sweet, one-half cup of powdered sugar, one glass of wine and one large teaspoonful of vanilla extract. Sweeten the cream, and when the sugar is thoroughly dissolved, churn to a strong froth. Lastly, stir in wine and seasoning carefully. Serve at once. Carrots in Cream, Wash and scrape the carrots, let them boil fifteen minutes, then drain off the water, cut them in thin slices, add boiling milk to cover them nicely, put in a generous lump of butter, add salt to taste. After draining off the water, slice them in the stew pan, so they will not become cold before the milk is added. They should cook at least fifteen minutes In the milk, and great care should be used to keep them, from becoming burned.