Democratic Press, Volume 2, Number 67, Decatur, Adams County, 23 January 1896 — Page 7
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• WISk v ’.:- ' •'.,'(715%7 ’-' ■-> 7 •rT' 1 ’ CHArTERXXXL -Wta» » -‘l>"»> < !" rrictl D,i, " B Knollya ’ ’’■J I ,*”’" I ?,landing *" , '"‘ • ,a,,<m libr " r >'* ui, turning > lV ’ r lh, ‘ I ‘‘“ v, ‘’ nt ,be In .' . ltr r„p. r. while her father stood XltSl with Colonel Vrinaep in the tioor*!\vhal u jtF aaked the commissioner, « >ti an indulgent amile. X nply. th* l”'l"' r thn, “ ,n ’° . b*B'l "tid a daintily gloved Anger to the column which had rouacd k T*: l, arti<h‘ ««• headed “Another H and dealt in a balf-jeating. wholhdi,paraginc vein with the quarter-«,i-i<r» “pretty daughter,” who had ude such havoc in the regiment; turnUr attention first to a sergeant, then B >... ... t >n altered, to the Colonel L* n ’ M .;*- *#-..! in both case* with the deadlies’ rffrct. The writer went on to ob•rrethat it was surprising such a probable Minter of information should have U-n o'vrliol >d at the inquest. Who so ftely tn be able to throw a light ujsm the 4artn<« which enshrouded the fate of trtlevvr? From the days of the heroine of Troy until now a woman had been at tU bottom of every mystery, the motive (brer ry crime; and this Helen wns. he ir! beard, as fair as she who had been the cause <>f that memorable ten years’ nr-tsd perhaps no less to blame. Much more there was in the same strain; but Colonel Prinsep, who was ■tiding over Mr. Knollys’ shoulder, muttered such a wrathful ejaculation that the commissioner was startled. “Eh?" he queried, testily, looking over bu gold-rimmcd glasses. “I beg your pardon,” said the Colonel, tut I must agree with Miss Knollys that such libel® or rather innuendoes, which ire worse, for libel can be contradicted—•tight not to be allowed to be inserted in uj piper.” “I never did like the Indian Argus, nor ipprove its views; but I must say I think— What do you say. Di?” “I am going to see Jane and take her , for a drive if she will come.” “But, my dear, I am not sure that I are sbont yonr being with a young lady who has made herself so notorious.” “Or rather has been made so by cir«m»tanccs. No. papa. I won’t listen to i i word. Yon have always let me have j bj own way. and you are not going to 1 thwart me now.” 1 “And 1 don’t think any one conld do | anything but admire so kind an net,” put ' hthe Colonel, more moved than he cared ts «how. “How good you are! I should liU to thank you as Miss Knox’s friend, •niy 1 have not the words—nor the right toilo so.” he said, in a low. shamed voice, | u he led her to the carriage. Thea don’t bother about thanking me *t all.” she answered, brightly. ”1 asmr* yon it is not goodness at all, only rieioumess disguised.” “How so?" he questioned, smiling. "I know who wrote that letter to the Arpis. and with what motive it was penned. The writer h<q>ed by that means tu make people look shyly upon Jane, ns they would do. of course, if all that he •sod was trnc. But I mean to circumvent mm by showing that I for one disbelieve •wy word, and I fancy”—with n proud J’** of bi r head, which Colonel Prinsep, . B in n,, er unison with the sentiments 1 expressed, thought infinitely becoming ~..j fnney some good will follow.” ~ w ' B h you would toll me who you tiunk it was who wrote it!” said the ColM'l. fiercely, Ihink! There is not a doubt about it. , certain. Don’t you remember what a, , ./" u 0,lt ‘ night, at your own dance, 41 if .lane Knox refused Mr. Blount would be avenged?” “Is it bo?” < .' o , llrse ’t ia :” nnd Miss Knollys ■ 'Pi "! her ponies into a sharp trot. '' ur . , ’lane! Surely no one had « Paul so dearly for the royal gift of uty—no one had suffered so keenly •nxecotmt of her lovers! -on lie went back into the readingllu'i M r - Knollys seated by oth; n,< wi,b , ' l< ’ P n P er spread in front « bi n. perusing it intently. » whole thing is in execrable tnste,” ibni.Lt’k M tbo Colonel entered; “but I tin,,. bad"? , Biv ‘‘ u . m y “Pinion at the tbinli, bfen I'cre— 1 cannot help o llt ’h*’ inquiry was hurried barn i- -, *, al “ ra o re trouble might “y elicited more information." tut'i'nl 11 I’,'ihß 1 ’ , ' ihB4 ‘P w as ill pleased at the bought w < ’^r[ Rntt< ” 1 had tnken - He •fol u,ii * "i” 1 ’'‘ in once for ■••* it th. J'" K1 forgotten; but that letter brtirmi, rß ' lß ’ ftnd ‘'* r - Knollys’ evident t1,,,,.,. na ‘‘ o, i to follow up the clew it hr uiii t 0 Kiv<> * Wou, *f endue the matUaBe a on7fe“ tere,t ““** “ toward 11 !? tbo li,irßr - v * llp walked back '«don«a C ,u '' Ms * Pondering what could sain, n av ' >, ’ , Nllf ’ 11 nn annoyance from air,.;., K'U'xHed what a blow it had ah]y 1,,, ' h ,0 her, and how she prob- - 1" '< l. herße >f- though unnecfoiisi.ln,. > b “y i,, K H l'oken, hh she would forth: • harshly of him so shortly betb.r. 1,,'"! 1 ’’ " '"'f other reason could ►ls nt. o for , "‘ r avoidance of himfolk nl " '” y °f f’e funeral, and the ««ti.h rf, l'”Rn«nco which she had kiln ", ID ’ ex cept that she associated fos.'i... ' ? ia, i in 11, r gentleness of dia™®n, she regretted? foe l.nH W , ny bc luct Diana Knollys driv- “. "'fo alone. klia?,? not come.” she informed ►tion.k offended voice, then added ffotti,.,/ - ; ‘Io you know, I believe she is fotf'r ” a ,’ Ut ’'"■n' tlung, about this very •nd i nlbt ’ f,,r ”f |( ‘ looked so white ..j rn 1 wns quite shocked.” t fosl>l>' r ' s “y”~grnvely; "it is enough to But I one ’ n,,, l afoo i** n° sensitive. Bits k IH,I n K ' lrf ’ s ' ll ' your kindness, tvlnn' 1 JB ’ nnd * hope”—with one of n »>g smiles—“that yon won’t be
I discouraged by a first failure, and that . >ou will go and see her again.” "Oh, yes, I will do that certainly! She I can t always bo so impracticable, always refuse," answered Miss Knollys, hastily, i \\ ell, she had pledged herself to stand by Jane at this juncture, and would not go from her word. Besides, she did nut I believe that, even if Jane proved obdu--1 rate, Colonel I’rinsep would ever turn to ; her. And she liked the girl for her own ; sake and wished her well. "Some women have such luck!” mut- , tend Diana, ruefully, thinking of how i Jane had once been a sergeant-major's I daughter, and now might l>c a peersna ■ if she chose; or, which might bo an even i brighter fate -for Miss Knollys did not like Major f.nrron now the wife of Stephen Prinsep. Meanwhile Colonel Prinsep walked . away slowly, his gaze bent downward; therefore it might have been unconi sciously he passed the mess-gates, and went on toward the quartermaster's i house. Diana's last words wore ringing in his ears, and had driven every other thought lii way. "She can’t always be impracticaI ble; she can't always refuse!” There seemed something of prophecy in the uneotisidered remark, which lie was fain to a|iply to his own use. She had been so long deaf to his spoken enI treaties and even more persuasive nnI uttered prayers that ut any moment she I might have discerned Ids love in his 1 eyes; surely she would listen now, the cause of her forced coldness being removed. Just nt first she might have felt vexed with him ns with herself, for the ] fear nnd resentment she hnd expressed alwiut Jacob Lynn; but her natural good sense must show her that neither hnd been to blame, and she would, if she loved him—as she had loved him without doubt during that short, bright period of their engagement—turn gladly to the protection of his love. Ilia nnme could shield her from so much that was disagreeable, the attendant gossip and rumors that would follow upon the trooper's death, more especially since that article had appeared in the Argus. And for his part, if every one turned against I and reviled her. he would none the less i joyfully take to his arms the one love of i his life. As he turned Into the compound he j met Mrs. Knox. “I wns just going out," she told him when the usual greetings had been ex- , changed. “But I will turn back with you. It wns nothing of importance, and ■ I nm ante it was very kind of you to ! call; we have been dreary enough lately.” “It was your daughter I came especialIly to see. Will you let me go and speak I to her alone?” She hs.ked up inquiringly into his face, | and he smiled somewhat sadly in reply. "Yes, I have come to ask her again to be my w ife, but whether I have a chance i or not I cannot say.” "She loves you, I am sure,” asserted i Mi s. Knox; but she did not speak so hopeI fully ns she might have done on such un occasion six months ago. Excited nt the prospects which reopened out before her daughter, though nt the name time sorrowfully convinced that their brilliancy would be displayed in vain, Mrs. Knox hurried on, and the Colonel was free to pursue his course unhindered. The front windows of the bungalow were oi>en, and at one of them Jane stood looking out; but directly she saw him she shrunk back, and when ho entered the room lie found her at the furtherest end of it with the handle of the door in her hand, as though about to flee. "Jenny. Jenny, what is it that hns come between us that you would avoid me so?" he cried, staying some distance off lest she should escape him altogether. She leaned against the door, and her face was hidden from his gaze. Only a convulsive movement of her shoulders showed him she had heard what he had said. “Are you afraid of me?" he naked, gently. "Surely not. You know that my feelings have never altered—that 1 love you now even more dearly than th< first day I asked you to be my wife. You are bound by no promise now; you are free at last!” “Oh, hush, hush!" sue moaned. “What is there to prevent me pleading my cause again?" She turned to him so white nnd horrorstntek nu expression that involuntarily he quailed before her glance. "You can ask that?” "Why not? You loved me once,” he began. "Do you think I do not remember thnt if you mid I never met, Jacob Lynn would be still alite?” “I think you exaggerate," ho remonstrated in his quiet voice, which ins< naibly soothed her excitement; “his death was nn accident, nnd though we may both regret it, 1 for one cannot be so unselfish ns to ignore the fact that it makes possible what yon declared impossible before—our marriage, Jenny.” “Over his grave?” “I do not understand," he said, hopelessly. "You must ” "I know all!” she interrupted him, meaningly. For a moment or two neither of them spoke. Jane, frightened nt her own boldness, stood before him with downcast eyes nnd trembling lips, nnd Colonel Prinsep, more than ever bewildered, grew angry as well. Nothing, he thought, could justify her conduct. She hnd always been inclined to trifle with his love, bringing forward first one, and then another excuse to prevent their marriage. Now, when at last he might reasonably suppose his probation to be at an end, n fresh obstacle intervened, mysterious, shadowy, mid apparently not to he explained. His first impulse wns to leave mid never seek her again; but, ns what wns meant for a farewell glance fell upon her lovely, troubled face and swaying, willowly form, he relented, mid was once more under the potent spell of her beauty, ready to serve twice seven years if only he might win her so. “Listen to me, Jenny!" he pleaded,
earnestly, "T have loved you no well nnS with so little thought of self, thnt aarely I deaorve a hearing; and if there in any • m you l» •"lit Is only fnlr you should let me juatify myself if | enil." She looked Into hla face with such evident drend of whnt it wan thnt he would nny that for an iustuut he wan discomposed, Then, as she averted her gone, he went on gri*|ely: "At the ernne moment I first realised my love for you I almost simultaneously discovered that you wore already engaged, nnd I accepted my fate- sorrowfully, it is true, but with no hope of altering It. If I Implored you tn think seriously before definitely fulfilling the promise you bad made, it wns. heaven knows, with no ulterior motive, but from a wish to secure your happiness, which I valued more than my own. Afterward, because I heard no much ngninst Nergeant Lynn, and I myself proved some nt least of th® reports wrre true, I went to you one® more, because I loved you no dearly, mid dared to think that you loved me. Believe mo, it was not heenua® of the man's position, nor with the idea of tempting you from him with the advantages I could offer; if lie hnd been worthy of you I would have been content to see you his wife, if he had been even lower in the social scale. It wns the knowledge of our mutual love, and the wretched existence you would lead if you married him. that made mo seek you then. You wrote to Sergeant Lynn nt my instigation, throwing yourself upon his generosity." “Do not let us s|s'sk of that,” Interisdatcd Jane, coldly; and it chilled him even more to discover thnt she still wore the big silver ring upon her finger, though the presumable giver of it was dead. Dispassionately as he had siiokcn. she had not been aldo to hear unmoved the story of that time—told, too, by him; but as his words recalled the deceit which had been practiced on her. all the scorn she had felt before revived; and more than ever it appeared possible he might l«e guilty, too, of the death of Jacob Lynn. Iler coldness communicated itself to him. "1 have no wish to say anything that will pain you. I will not deny that I was to blame then, though perhaps not so det-ply as you think. Should you ever feel curious to know how it happened, your mother will tell you the true story.” “I am not curious,” sighed Jane. She would have given much to have known nothing that conld make Stephen Prinsep the less a hero in her eyes than he was at first. Some sins might have been condoned, but these of his were so despicable nnd mean thnt she hated herself because in spite of them she loved him still. It was that which made her fear him so, lest her infatuation—so she termed it —should prove stronger than her sense of what was right. "And 1 will not speak of the day,” ho continued, “which should have been the brightest in my life, and was the dreariest, I went away shortly afterward, and tried my hanlest to forget what was at once a pain and shame; yet the first sight of your sweet face, the sound of your dear voice dissipated all my resolutions. I knew you were as dear to me as ever. Then gradually the impression grew upon me that you were no longer bound by the old promise, ami that evening we acted together—with me it was no acting. Jenny—l resolved to woo you again; and again, just as I began to dream of a success. the more to lie prized because so hardly won. you met mo with the unexpected blow that you had pledged yourself anew, almost as fatally as before!" "When I did so,” said Jane—and the words seemed wrenched from her by some inner force she conld not combat—"l believed that I should never marry!” “Was it so?” he asked, gently. At times he could have sworn she loved him still, then again that look of dislike to his presence, tinged, too, with fear, swept over her face, and he was fain to doubt. "Tell me, Jenny, when you gave that promise.” “The dny you called for the first time after your return from England,” she answered, in n low voice. "Because you thought that I no longer loved you. Oh, Jenny, it was you who remained so cold and unconcerned, and by your indifference drove me to the belief that you had forgotten all that passed between us so short a time before! I had not forgotten—l shall never forget—that I have held you in my arms, and kissed you as a man only kisses the woman he loves, nnd hopes to make his wife. The aching sense of loss which wns in my heart the day on which our marriage should have been is there now, and will be till I die, or until. Jenny, you relent! Do you owe me nothing for the suffering you have caused? I respected the feeling of honor which made you refuse to listen to me while you were engagi-d, and even the generous kindness of your second promise; but now. surely there is nothing now to part us!" “Stephen, Stephen!” she murmured, wistfully, momentarily led away by the fervor in his tones: but as. in answer to her pleading cry. he stepped eagerly toward her, she shrunk back, remembering whnt was between them. Yet his words hnd not been without effect. Believing him guilty still, she could make some allowance forth? crime now. gauging the greatness of the temptation by the greatness of his love. And it hnd been an accident—he had not meant to slay him, she was sure, or he could not have appeared so unconncioiiß of wrong-doing! She, too. had been so much tu blame, first in making such a promise, and afterward in sending the one lover to meet the other with linger in his heart. She hnd taken no thought of the jealous passion each would feel against the other. "Jenny, what am I to think?” cried tbo Colonel, ns she moved away. "Think," she answered, hysterically, "thnt I would give all 1 have to bring Jacob Lynn to life. How can I ever bo happy again, knowing what I do?” The door opened, nnd as her mother entered Jane slipped away, only too thankful to escape. (To be concluded.) llcml Uochetbrt's Erratic Career. No one has known more ups and downs than Henri Bocheforte, the French communist who is now an exile in England. Beared In the grandest houses of the noble faubourg of Paris, he has been condemned to death as an anarchist and as a leader of the commune. At one moment the idol of the people, the next day he would be almost lynched in the streets. Repeatedly exiled, Imprisoned times without number, sentenced to penal servitude for life, escaping through a country infested by cannibals and subsequently In an open boat across the Pacific from New Caledonia to Australia, there Is practically no limit to his experiences.
HELPFULFARM HINTS SUGGESTIONS FOR THE AGRICULTURIST AND STOCKMAN. Ilomr Malta Mhould Itc Wurm How tn Make u Farm Roller Pro®tlra« Poultry Should lie Killed tiro*lug MiiMlirooim- Ifuyliiit u I'urm. K®<-|>lnit the llorni M Warm. Where the horse sin Ila are nt one aldo •f a stable, nnd not shut off from the large open space by a dose jut rt I (jolt, the is’igipnnts of the stalls are likely to suffer from cold during severe weather. even though well blanketed. Mile a more feed Is consumed In this way. the extra amount doing the animal no gisid except to aid In keeping him "111' y lit STABLE roKTIEHKH. warm. Moreover, chilly quarters tend to get an animal out of condition, and Bo less able to do his work well. A plan is suggested in the accompanying sketch for keplng horses warm in such open stables. A stout wire or light iron rod is stretched across the rear of the stall near the ceiling, and on this is hung a curtain of burlap or old carpeting. On cold nights and days this can bc drawn across the opening, to the great comfort of the occupant of the stall. Rings of stout wire hold the curtain to the rod. American Agriculturist A Creamery Record. The twelfth annual report of the Massachusetts Experiment Station contains some creamery records. The per cent of fat in the milk averaged 4.5'J for 1893, and for 1894 4.27 per cent In 1893 the relation of fat to the solids was 1 to 2.2, while in 1894 it was as 1 to 2.18. The cost of feed for a quart of cream was, for 1893, 13 cents, and for 1891 13.G4 cents. The value received for one space of cream varied in 1893 from 3.50 to 4.25 cents, with an average of 3.93 cents; in 1894 from 3.10 to 4.00 cents, with an average of 3.52 cents, which amounted per quart (average) In 1893 to 13.3 G cents, and in 1894 to 11.97 cents. The number of quarts of milk required to produce one space of cream in 1893 was 1.88, and in 1894 2.08, or 6.39 quarts of whole milk to produce one quart of cream in 1893, and 7.07 quarts of whole milk to produce one quart of cream in 1894. The net cost of feed per quart of cream averaged in 1893 5.98 cents, and in 1894 7.17 cents. Received per quart of cream in 189'1 13.30 cents, and In 18(44 11.97 cents, thereby securing a profit of 7.38 cents per quart in 1593 and 4.80 cents in 1894. Making a Farm Roller. The roller ought to be more commonly used on the farm in fining the soil for a seedbed, as well as in packing down the soil about the seed when sown. A roller may bc made by covering old mowing machine wheels in the manner suggested in the sketch, the narrow strips of plank having slots cut in them to tit projections on the wheels. When the strips are in place, shrink an iron hoop around each end. Old wagon tires are useful for this purpose. Th" Ji IIVMKMADE 1101.1. l K. ends may be boarded up to keep out the dirt. Beveling each strip makes a neater job, but this is not essential. Gettinir Rid of Corn snint. A bulletin from Purdue University of Indiana Is devoted to corn smut, which Is very prevalent in the West, where corn is often grown year after year on the same land Experiments show that the growth of smut spores may be prevented by spraying with Bordeaux mixture. But this is an expensive and difficult process, as the leaves of corn will protect the low t portion where the sporeit may be lodged. A better practical way is to go through the coin about the time the ears are forming and destroy all the signs of smut that may be visible. While in Its damp state this smut should be put in paper bags and either burned or buried deeply in the ground. Going through the corn field twice, once early nnd a little before the time to cut the corn, will destroy nearly all the grant and prevent its doing much injury for several years. Winter Plants. Ik> not uno i>ots for winter flowering plants that are too large. It is better to give larger parts when necessity for su<»h arise®. Bo wireful in watering. The tendency Is to apply too much water. An excellent fertilizer for winter plants is to dissolve a teaspoonful of nitrate of rasla. phosphate of lime nnd phosphate of potash in three pint® of water, which may be applied hi sufficient quantities three times a week. The materials ore free from odor, nnd may be procured at. any drug store. Growing Mushrooms, The growing of mushrooms close to large cities like Boston, New York, Philadelphia and other localities has assumed large proportions, says the independent. The cases, hotels and private clubs use large numbers of them.
They sell nt one dollar per dnxen. and ft I* hard tn keep pace with the demand, They are grotui In caves provided with manure and sawdust kept freshly supplied. The temperature should be ut least I*h> or I2<> degrees, but no higher, old sheds, cellars, greenhouses afford good places for conducting the business. It will bo found n very Interesting and profitnlde pursuit, If you have suitable facilities. Too Narrow Burns. Most of the old-fashioned barns were built with a view to economy, and were made ns narrow and cramped as possible, says the American Cultivator. The standard width seemed to bo enough for a wagon loaded with grain In the straw to be driven In, and for the barn door to be closed behind It. The floor was also narrow, so that the team hail to bo driven out at the door opp.ssile thnt they went In at. It is rather curious that farmers tried to economise so much In lumber when the woods were full of It. and larger framed buildings might bo made with acarcely any more expense. When farmers began to build barns with basements, nnd having only one entrance, the barn was tiei’essarlly made wider nnd its floors broader, so that a loaded wagon could bo driven in and the team be driven out beshle it. A roomy barn floor is very convenient for storing many kinds of farm tools; but wagons should always be stored in the basement, whore the wheels will come in contact with the noil. Weed Reads in Winter. Weed seeds are often drifted by winds to great distances when the snow ts covered with an icy glare. The wild carrot seeds are more often disseminated In this way than In any other. Small seeds, such ns those* of ragweed, which grows along roadsides, will adhere to the mud on wagon wheels, and thus .will be carried where not before known. The only safety from weeds consists In preventing their seeding. When they have perfected their seed It is often eaten by birds, and will sometimes retain its vitality after passing into the excrement. Some kinds of weed seeds are very hard and need some such treatment to make them germinate readily. Kill the I’rofitlenH Poultry. Don’t keep a lot of useless poultry through the winter. If in good flesh have all the old fowls and the cockerels dressed. Have such a box as is illustrated- a dry goods box with hinged side—and lay the dressed fowls in it. POULT KV 81. Flll <■E B A TOR. no one touching another. Put the box in a cold building or on a back piazza and let the sow ls freeze solid. Chicken meat can then be had at any time during the winter. Dress all fowls that are “eating their heads off."—Farm and Home. Deep Drains Are Permanent. In all Northern localities underdrains should be put down to at least three feet in depth If a good outlet can be ha 1. Shallow drains are soon washed our, or the frost penetrates to their bottom in severe weatiier and disarranges the tile or stone used as a waterway. We have frequently seen drains put down to a depth of tw’enty inches or two feet that after a few years would be worthless. We have dug and laid drains upwards of thirty-six years that are yet in good condition. They were all three feet or more in depth. When a drain lasts for a third of a century it Is reasonable to believe that it will always be effective in removing surplus water from the soil. Cut CornutallcH. When cornstalks are cut In pieces about an inch long there is danger in feeding them to horses, for when frozen they are as hard and sharp almost as wood. When cut cornstalks are piled in large heaps before freezing weather begins they will heat enough to prevent this danger. Stock also like these partly cooked cornstalks, as the heating undoubtedly makes them more digestible. Buy ins a Farm. In buying a farm get good land, even if you can’t afford more than ten acres. The soil must is* rich to return much profit, and It is cheaper to buy the richness- with the land than to buy it afterwards and tin n spread it on. Some land, too, is so thin and leachy, or so stiff and sour, that no amount of manure will niake it really first-class. Loss Wheat and Oats. From several sections the reimrts are that smaller tireas will Im* devoted to wheat and oats in the spring. No doubt low prices will induce farmer® to limit tile acreage, but those who are shrewd and who anticipate such a condition will Increase their acreage to such crops in order to secure high pri<M*s which may result from decreaoed production. Fcedinu Fowl* in Winter, During Ute coldest weather the last feed of fowls should be given ns late as possible and shoo’d consist of whole grain. This will keep them warm through the night. 1 f any corn is given the fowls it should lie just before they go to roost, as the corn takes longer Io digest than the smaller grains. Dehorned Cittlc. Dehorning cattle Is no doubt cruel at Hie time of operation, but those who favor It maintain that cattle which have been deprived of their horns oat together without doing Injury to one another, and greater safety Is insured during shipment to market. Keep €»<><><! s; tock. If you don't think the best stock pays, look around through your neighborhood and see If the best farmers aon’t keep the best stock.
I w 'Th’L -nW'inifc. 1(WA Home (hit of n llonxrhold. It Is of no use pretending that homwfo keeping Is easy; It Isn't. It is hard work. However, there are ways of more or less alleviating the hardship, ami sonic of them have been discovered by u family In the suburbs, where servants are generally unsatisfactory and uncertain of tenure. This particular household consists of a mother and two daughters. If they are left tnaldless—and thnt Is no uncommon occurrence in village life they perform the disagreeable feat known provincially as "doing one’s ovn work,” after a plan which they have evolved. One prepares the breakfast one mortilng. luncheon ’.he next day. and dinner on the next Tho other two dear away and wash tho dlshi-s. Thus each one is n-spouslble for u different meal each day, ami has no other concern, except tho mere menial labor. Whoever gets the breakfast does the upstairs work as well that day. Another plan of this family, even when they have servants, Is to divide the catering, seeing after the meals, etc., among themselves, so that it shall not prove so wearisome a task to any one. They each take turns by the week In marketing, planning food and overseeing Its cooking. This giv« a much greater variety for the table, and is good practice for the daughters, is well as a relief to the mother. Likewise It is an economical arrangement. Each manager makes it a (tolnt of pride to see how well she can run the bouse on the least possible sum. as there Is the comparison every Saturday night with the a.-cunts of the other two to spur her on to her best endeavors. Hints to Housekeepers. Use milk puddings and stewed fruit for bilious dyspepsia. After washing never wring worsted dress goods. Shake them. Soak bla<-k eallco in salt and water before washing, and so prevent Its failing. Apply castor oil once a day to warts from two to six weeks and they will disappear. Spirits of turpentine is the thing with which to cleanse and brighten patent leather. Toilet vinegar, cologne water, alcohol and red wine are good for oily and moist hands. The dirth st frying pan will become clean if soaked five minutes in ammonia and water. In making black lace dresses, when transparent sleeves are desired, if the sleeves are first lined with very fine white net, the arnls will look much whiter. 'I he lining does not show when the sleeves are worn. When a bed is obliged to face a window. as is sometimes necessary, a decoration and a relief in one is secured by a valance above instead of below the footboard. Two small brass uprights are fastened in it, with a rod adjoining them, on which is hung a curtain of some light silk or stuff in harmony with tlie general tone of the room. If the ticking put over down or feather pillows is well coated with beeswax on the wrong side, the fluff will not come through. Coat the wrong side of tlie fabric by rubbing tile wax In with a hot iron. This is a bettor way for down pillows than to recover the muslin with canton flannel In-fore putting on the ornamented cover. But in making feather pillows for bedroom use it is worth doing. Juui (ties. Cream together two cups of sugar and one of butter, add three well-beat-en eggs and six tablespoonfuls of sweet milk, two tablespoonfuls of baking powder, flavor to taste, flour enough to make into a soft dough. Do not roll it on the paste board, but break off pieces of dough the size of a walnut and make into rings by rolling out rolls as largo as your finger and Joining the ends; lay them on tins to bake, an inch apart, as is rises and spreads; bake in a moderate oven. Tin se Jumbles are very delic.lt® and will keep a long time. White Fruit-Cake. Cream one pound of sugar and a half a pound of butter together, add a pound of sifted flour, with two teaspoonfuls of baking-powder, half a cupful of milk, one cupful each of blanched, chopped almonds and ground citron and one grated cocoanut. Mix well, and stir In carefully the beaten whites of ten eggs. Turn into a greased mold, and bake in a moderate oven for one hour. When cool, ice, and ornament with bonbons. Ortinige Sherbet® Soak two tablespoonfuls of gelatin in a little cold water for half tin hour; add a quart of boiling water and a pound of sugar, stir over tlie lire until boiling. Take up. nnd set aside to cool. Add tlio juice of ten large oranges and two lemons, strain, nnd (Muir Into a freezer. Wlu*n frozen, remove tlie dasher, repack tlie freezer, and set aside for two hours to ripen. Scalloped Sw* ct Potatoes, Wash anil rub largo sweet potatoes, boll until tender, and peel and slice. I'ut n layer in tlie bottom of a bakingdish, cover witli brown sugar and lilts of butter, tlnri put In more potatoi-s, butter and sngsr. grate a little nutmeg over tin* lop, and sei in tlie oven to brow n. Baked etbread®. Lard and parboil two heart sweetbreads. Place then) in a baking dish. Baste well with butter. Add a half cupful of stock. Bake slowly. Baste almost constantly fora half hour. When covered witli a rich glaze, dish and serve with hot peas.
