Democratic Press, Volume 2, Number 76, Decatur, Adams County, 26 March 1896 — Page 7

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| CHAPTER I. ■ NVztling talf Wl| y d,,w " ,h '“ • 101K ' of onc I a/vur low Hampton hills »tan<)» a small ■ lira Houw. wbifh in my memory lay vs I «nt for many ?•*««. The situation w k ■ bleak or pleasant according to the weathI < ami season. Cold and dreary it must I have been in a driving winter storm. I with the anew whirling round the hills, ■ thr night wind rattling at the casement. I Spring time, however, was not long in I paying back winter’s debt of dreariness. I Thereabout the earlier primrose blew, I and the sunshine had more light in It I and the sir a sweeter smell around that I snot than anywhere in the neighborhood, I Even now I. John Book, who have kept ■ the chemist’s shop in Hampton these | nany yearn, crnwl up there sometimes. I and taste the breath of spring, which I runs into my blood like wine, and 1 feel I something of the young man tingling in I my crazy limbs. Garden and house, winI dows and ceilings, were ail going to the I bad together, and at last we called the I place Tumbledown Farm; and we used I to say that even the rats know better I than to live in Tumbledown Farm. One day. howprer. my boy, who was up I to his eyes in gossip, came rushing in, I basket in hand, and called out, "The I farm s taken!” I "Tumbledown Fann?” I said. “Never!” I "I’ve seen the people,” cries he; “an I aid fellow in a nightcap and spectacles I and a young lady." I "Heard the name. Bob!" I “tlardware." I Mysterious tenants these newcomers I tinted out As for the old man. he s>-:irc?-I lyever went outside his little garden. He I -was tall, decrepit, with a long white I beard and heavy spectacles, and seemed I in wretched health. But his daughter I came into the village almost every day, I and soon became a well-known character. She was a striking young woman, her I age hardly more than twenty-two, but she I looked six years older. Her figure was I that of one in the fullness of womanhood, I her neck and head wonderfully graceful. I She was mindful of the beauty of her figure, and wore her shawl cleverly so as to set herself off; and she knew that she had a pretty pair of feet, and let other people know it too. Her step was quick, and her carriage lively and alert. She had the w hitest skin possible, a handsome I face boldly cut, and two dark eyes easier I noticed than forgotten. I admired this young woman's appearance. yet something in her manner gave me a turn against her. There was wickedness in her eyes—l express myself awkwardly, but my way of putting it is this: her eyes seemed such that, when you looked into them, your own were fastened for a moment, and in withdrawing your glance you seemed to draw the wicked eyes after you. Our rector, who made a (stint of railing en every new parishioner, poor or rich, very soon found his way to Tumbledown Farm. I asked him one morning who they were, and all he could tell me was he name, which I knew already. "The young woman is his daughter, I •nppose?" I said. "She Is; he calls her Vanity," replied the rector. “Strangest name for a Christian I ever heard," 1 remarked. "Miss Vanity Hard-ware-sounds odd enough. Well, Vanity is that Vanity does." That name “Vanity Hardware” kept ringing in my ears, and made me more curious than ever to know something of the young woman who bore it. "Bide yonr time. John Book," said I to myself. “Everything will come to light if you wait long enough." And I was right. Once or twice Mr. Hardware was seen In the village. He was very infirm, and used to drive in Jupp’s fly. Hardware was tall, and looked venerable. He wore a brown cap with lappets over the ears and a long blue cloak with a cape. His hair you could scarcely see. but his beard was long and white; and his shoes were large, with knobs on the toes, which caught my eye as I watched him lumbering out of the carriage. “Bunions," said I. He could hardly rise from his seat, falling back twice, and helped out at last by bis daughter and the flyman. "Lumbago,” said I again. Then he was seized with a coughing fit that nearly shook him to pieces. "Asthma,” cried I the third time. Almost immediately after, the father and daughter crossed over the street and entered my shop, he supporting himself on her arm. and leaning heavily on his stick besides. He fell into a chair with a great sigh of relief, and Miss Vanity came to the counter and made one or two purchases. the old man wheezing and mumbling to himself all the time. In my little garden there was a blossomy aweet-snielling rose, which grew close beside a gnarled withered elder bush. Do you know, Miss Vanity, dressy and handsome nnd young, standing beside this grumbling Antiquity, made me think of the rose nnd the elder! Now begins the story proper. Just as I was thinking of the rose and the elder, ■ young fellow, whom I dearly loved, named Willie .Snow, stepped into my shop. He was in baste; so. with one of his easy, pleasant nods, lie asked Miss unity to allow him to bo served before her, upon which she drew aside. 1 marked her watching him while he stood leaning carelessly against the counter, as taking n young fellow ns one would meet In a day’s walk. There camo over her face a look as if she would try to snare him. when she got a chance. She got the chance soon; for as Willie put the vial tn his pocket he turned to thank her. She smiled and, having fixed her dark eyes upon him just for an instant, withdrew her gaze with an air of tender modesty ♦hat might melt any man's heart! "Well done, Miss Vanity!” thinks I. “Next to being bashful, the prettiest thing in a pretty woman is to seem so.”

But Willie, being not half my age, could not be expected to take the thing In this cool way, A light flashed in his soft gray eyes, surprise and pleasure mixing their rays, and the color deepened on his cheek. Ho hesitated. “Good -good morning," said he, with stammering lipa. “Thank you!" "Yon are very welcome.” Only four words, mark you. But how charming she looked! A thousand soft nnd winning beams played over her face, her voice had a in-'lmieholy ring, and her eyes drooped to the ground again. Actress actn-ss. from her pretty cheek to her heart's core! Willie seemed struck and dazed; he passed out silently, nnd she turned to mo again. I filled her orders. Then the old man hobbled out to the fly, dragging at his daughter's arm. I must say she seemed kind to him. He managed to get scaled, and the carriage door was fastened. The vehicle and the crazy old gentleman went off together, creaking and groaning, jolting and ejaculating. And I here declare to you that though I disliked that young woman and despised her artful ways, yet when she was g»n* out of the shop I felt as if the sunlight had gone with her. CHAPTER 11. Willie Snow, taking him all round, was one of the finest young men I ever knew. When he was only fifteen his father, a bank clerk, died suddenly, leaving behind him a widow, one son and seventy pounds a year. Mrs. Snow lived decently on her income and gave her son a good education; and in due time he got a situation at an iron worker's in the city, where he rapidly rose in the esteem of his employers. Willie had been a good son. and when, a year before this time, his mother died, he allowed remarkable sorrow. He was now in an excellent position. In addition to all this, he was good-looking. His eyes were clear gray; his hair dark and thrown across his left temple in becoming irregularity; he was tall, and a particular melancholy in his expression made his kind, frank smile very pleasant to see. 1 loved the lad —every one loved the lad. the girls especially. A more heartbreaking fellow you could not find in all the West of England; and he broke hearts for one reason, just because he never tried. He won the girls’ affections every, where —he who never troubled his head about love. Have I said he did not trouble his head about love? I ought to qualify that statement; for just now he was on the point of being engaged to a thrifty managing girl, who had a small fortune of her own. This Miss Nancy Steele, of her own free will, fell desperately in love with Willie, and let him know it—cleverly, for she was clever in all things. I was not quite sure that he loved her back again, but the upshot was that affairs between the two were plainly nearing that point where the measure of the young woman's finger is taken. Only the final word had not been spoken. The fish had nibbled, was hooked, and Miss Nancy was just gathering her wrist to swish him on to the land. The evening of the day upon which Willie met Miss Vanity Hardware in my shop he looked in to see me. Something was on that young man's mind, and st lust the secret came out. "Singular old man I saw in your shop this morning.” "You thought so?” I replied. "That young woman is his daughter, I suppose?" “So I understand.” “Pretty sort of girl,” he said, with makebelieve indifference. “A very tolerable girl indeed.” "I call her a woman—full grown," said I, emphatically. "Knows more than nine men out of ten, I’ll be bound.” A few days after Willie met Miss Vanity walking at her usual active pace, and looking as handsome as ever. The young man blushed like a girl fallen in love for the first time; the young woman preserved her easy air. Willie would have given a ten-pound note for any decent pretext under which he might have spoken to aer. As a matter of fact, he stole only one sly glance in passing. It was by no means easy to climb the fence of mystery that shut the Hardwares from public view. A gossip named Miss Axford was especially anxious to discover everything about them. Though nearly eighty years of age, she was still sharp nnd active. Morning by morning she went the round of the village, hearing all she could, telling all she could. Miss Axford, as 1 have said, ran crazy about the Hardwares. One day she looked in. fluttering with excitement. "I have heard some news nt last,” she cried. "What ntny it be, ma’am?" "He drinks!" "Old man?” “Yes. Two dozen bottles of gin went up there Inst week—cordial gin lie is an old sot—a brute beast!” cried Miss Axford. Strange old Indy! But I have not inserted her bit of news merely to till up the page. That would lie bad story telling. No, long enough after, on one awful day, I remembered Miss Axford and her discovery about the quarts of cordial gin. CHAPTER HI. Meanwhile Willie Snow worked as hard as any of us to get at the secret. Sfill he found out nothing. His evening walk, however, was always uphill now. I dare say the sharp eyes of Vanity Hardware soon noticed him strolling past the farm evening after evening, for after a time she grew more marked in her signs of kindness. She met him occasionally on the unfrequented road; and how those dark staring eyes set his honest young heart beating none but himself knew. On a particular evening in Juno, Willie pursued his upward way, coming to a turn of the road where on either side rnn tall hedges, pink and white with flowers.

that made tlio sunset air sweet like honey from their thousand breathing blossoms. Who should ho see here but Miss Hardware. Os cmirso she did not know he win near, innocent glrlt Hhe wna trying might and main to catch at n spray of wild rose that hung temptingly out Just beyond her reach. What an <>|>eidng tot Willie! He plucked up courage. "Can !—can I—do that fur you?" She turned round, her fuee bright with surprise nnd pli-asiir<*. "Thank you. Ido so wish for that particular rose." If the spray had been twenty-five feet above his head, mark you, Willie would have secured It. In a moment he held, tin l rose out to her, neatly trimmed by his ready pocket knife, She took It graces fully. looping the spray round her rus-[ tie hat with skillful lingers, she stood before him, one arm raised over her head statue-like, while love nnd laughter played over her face. "Beautiful, isn't It?" "Wonderfully beautiful," replied Willie. In a low earnest voice, and with such a sigh! Then he walked on, intoxicated. Golden was the June that year. Ix>ng sunlit days passed Into warm, cloudless evenings nnd breathless brilliant starry nights. Willie became more regular thau ever in his uphill walks. Nor did Vanity give him any rebuff. Somehow she manngod to meet him constantly at onc particular spot where tall trees shaded the road, and from which the distant landscape could bo seen in perfect beauty. So Vanity and Willie met frequently; he talking about weather, scenery, news, any trifle, while his henrt was full of love; she, all gin neo nnd smile, letting off flights of arrowy pleasantries barbed with mock tenderness, little suggestive sayings, laughs tipped with a sigh—al) meant to insinuate "1 am dying for you!” but quite cajaible. you observe, of being explained as meaning nothing nt all. What was Miss Nancy Steele doing al. this time? Biting her finger nails, I suspect; tightening her lips, tossing her haughty head, clinching her fist, but not giving up the game for lost, not if her mime was Nancy Steele. That Willie was cooling toward her she could not but discover. Eit Nancy was a long-headed girl. Other girls would have flown into a passion. Not Nancy! She may have fumed and nobbed, but thin was in secret. She got scent of Willie's evening walks, and thought she might take a walk herself now and then. By thia artful conduct on the part of Miss Nancy. Willie was put in a fix. When they met she smiled and chatted as usual, never reproving his coldness even by u glance. “Doctor," saiil Willie to me one evening. “I feel like a schemer. I have beet rather sweet upon Nancy Steele for a long time. What must I do?" “Marry her,” I replied. "Take her so have and to hold from this day forward." "But I don't love her,” ho answered, “and I do love Miss Hardware —passiom ately.” "Then let Miss Nancy know.” I said, gravely. "Honor bright. Will.” “I will let her know,” cried Willie—“this very night." "Steady, my lad, steady," said I; “you have not asked the other girl yet. Wait and see. Will; wait and see. Steady does it." (To no continued.) Trying to Top the Crowd. He entered the car on which I was seated on the Sixth avenue elevated, and after a bit he leaned over and whispered in my ear: "I’ll be hanged If they haven't dont It!” “Done what?" I asked. “Got my watch!" “Who?” “Dunno. Some feller picket It out o’ my pocket!” "Well, that’s too bad. You ought tc have been more careful. Are you a stranger in the city?” “Yes, perfect stranger. Got here only two hours ago. Say, It’s immense, ain't it?" "I don’t exactly understand." "Don’t you? Wall, I do. Do you know what'll happen when I git back home?" “The folks will laugh at you for losing your watch.” “Will they? Not as I knows of. You jest lot me git down alongside the stove In White’s grocery and tell the crowd that some feller down here in New York picked that watch off'n me nnd I never felt a touch and I'll be the biggest man in town fur th< next two weeks!” “And if you lost your wallet you"!, be a bigger man yit?” “You bet I would! Here she Is. stick in’ right outer my pocket, and then’s nine dollars In her, and if somebody'll sneak her out and not let me feel 'err I kin go home nnd knock the sock? off'n the feller who was clubbed by q policeman nnd run over by a cable car down here!”—Detroit Free Press A Shntn Battle. In the show window of a Greenwich street saloon called the Defender, a very interesting performance takes place every day. The performers ar« a big black cat and a fat white rat. The performance consists of a series of graceful gambols, in which the ca, pats the rat with its soft paw, chase* it about iae window, catches It gently in its mouth, and otherwise disports itself. The rat, being unable to defem, Itself, Is obliged to submit, though with a very bad grace. It is plain that it suffers more from terror than from physical pain, for the cat works with sheathed claws and is very gentle. At times, when tormented to the very limit of desperation, the rate does the only thing that a defenseless creature can do under the circumstances. It turns sullenly at bay, sits up on its hind legs and makes a show of fighting. There are some who say they have seen the rat chase the cat around the window, but tills is not very likely, unless, Indeed, the eat permitted It lu a spirit of fun. It is said that a cat will never harm a white (or albino) rat, nnd will never go further than to play with it Two different cats have been placed in the window on Greenwich street, and neither of them has done the rat any injury.—New York World.

ALL ABOUT THE FARM SUBJECTS INTERESTING TO RURAL READERS. Potato Planting with Modern Machinery Goisl Fence" Are Import-ant-Many Pleaauree in Farm Work — Howto Gourd Aguhiat Hog Cholera. Planting Potatoea. In planting potahsu, either for home or for market, the first cMsentlal, says the American Agrleuliuriat, Is a welldrained, rich pint of hind. A field which hits Is-eti two years In clover Is usually the best. To this apply a heavy dn-ssing of weil-rottisl barnyard manure. Break the s<sl In the fall or the winter three or four inches deep, then In spring turn it over to n depth of eight or nine inches, ami cut up thoroughly with n disk harrow, continuing the operation until the strati tied Is well lined iiml In the Is-st condition. Use n smoothing harrow to compact it sufficiently, so that It will not Im- drfied out unduly. The ground Is now ready for planting. The old method of hand planting will probably continue foe the rthf -I, 111 fT' I ’"■fiwiev •i ■ ■ nil fL. T ’ J • ' 'MI SO" 1 ~j. ■ FIG. 1. HAXO Ct'TTF.n. general farmer who cultivates but a small patch his own use. The potatoes are cut by hand to two eyes, dropped in rows three feet apart, with the bills eighteen inches apart in the row it' they are to be plowed one way. and two and one-half to thn-e feet apart if they are to be cultivated crosswise. Checking, however. Is hardly ever necessary except where the land is very foul. For commercial planting, hand processes are entirely too slow, consequently inventors have constructed machines both for cutting the potatoes into suitable sized pieces and for planting them. There is also on the market a machine which cuts the seed and at the same time does the planting. Figs I nnd 2 represents a band potato cutter which will do the work of eight or ten persons. The potato is dropped into the hopper, the handle brought over nnd pressed down, and the potato is cut into phs-es of a uniform size. Fig. 1 represents the Ixrttom of the hopper, crossed by six knives, with one running lengthwise. The number of knives can be decreased so as to make larger pieces of it. or can Im- increased and smaller pii-ees obtained. This machine can also Im- used for cutting IxM-ts, turnips, carrots, and other roots for stock feed. FIG. 2. KNIFE OF IIAXD Ct’TTEIt. Machines for planting potatoes at tinrate of four to eight acres per day are no longer en experiment. One man only Is needed to operate the machine that plants cut seed, while the automatic cutter and planter requires a man and boy. These implements open the furrow, drop the seed, and any desired amount and kind of fertilizer, and cover evenly with soil to a uniform depth, bringing an even stand. A marker indicates tin- next row and keeps the rows straight. One of tlipse machines soon saves its cost on a farm where potatoes are grown to any extent. Pleasures of Farm Work. Many people despise their work, when they ought to be thankful that they liave something to do. A num or woman who goes through life loathing his daily work is n miserable mortal, who makes tills world full of hell, and prepares the Way for plenty of it in the next, says Rural Life. A child that has not b<-en taught to work lias not been lialf raised. An education that does not develop habits of industry is a curse to its recipient, and the reelplent is a curse to the Stilt.. In this new country of ours there Is abundant opportunity for everybody who loves to work to get rich, industrious people are tile happiest, most virtuous, and companionable of all society. Industry begets all tin- cardinal virtues, while Indolvnce begets misery. want, vice and crime, and these tilings follow tile rich ns well as tinpoor. I met a farmer not long ago who had learned to hute ills lot upon tin- farm, lie had determined to sell out and go to n certain little village and open n restaurant. The village has already twice ns tunny restaurants as the customer needs. The farmer has never had any experience In running n restaurant or walking In town life. It Is. therefore, safe to predict that he will utterly fall mid learn to hate the restaurant tenfold worse than the farm. Seeding to Grass. A Connecticut farmer, who gives no clew as to the character of the soli, nor the kind of farming he Is engaged in,

' links advice about Heeding Hover to grnsH th-ld that bus Im-i-ii In h-nx) <-r<>|H» for two yenro. but for which lie bos no immure or fertilizer unh-iM he bu>« on credit, says Storr's Agricultural Stoudurd. If In- hns uhi- for rhe fodd -r. a crop of ontN and pen*, nnd elover grown therewith, for plowing under In tier full, would Im* ii good order to follow liefore ai-vdlng down. If thlw plan Is adopted, 1 would tidvlav the uhi- of ."SKJ pounds of iMitn- nnd 2(MI jMiuudz of muriate of potash per acre when the imUh and pens are sown. How one mid onehalf bushel eiieh of oats biml of pens us eurly uh the ground can Is- worked, plow the pens under and tow the outs and fifteen pounds of common r<sl Hoveraeed after plowing mui burrow lightly, i'll less the ground i> quite dry the i'loVi'lnimhl should only l»* ta*bed In. lilfferent Kinde of Bone Meal. Roue men I Is not contln<*<r t<» <m<mime, but Is known nlso uh gr-vtitid hour. Ixitu- flour, bouedust, et«; We find Lu the market raw boue im-iii.and steamed boue meal. Raw bone uu-ul cont.-iluH tin- fat naturally pn-senr. lu iMities. The presence of the fat Is -»b-1 jeetioiuible, Immiium* It milkoH tin- t grinding more difficult and retards the i decomposition <>f the boue lu the soil,. i while fat Itself hits no value as plane! food. Whi-u Itones are stemm-d, the fut is removed and the bone Is more , easily ground. Moreover, the chemical ' nature ot the nitrogen mmpoumls up-1 pears to be changed in stn-h u manner ■ that the mini undergoes decompoHitlon i lu the soil more rapidly than In case of | raw bone. The presence of easily de-1 caylng nitrogi-u comjiounds In lames ’ haateua. in the process of decomposition. to dissolve mon- or less of the Insoluble phosphate. Bone meal should ‘ contain from 3 to 5 per cent, of nitro- i gen, nnd from 3) to 2S per cent, of phos- ; phorie add. Abont one-third to onefourth of the latter np|M-ars to Im- in readily available condition. Raw bom* 1 meal generally eontains somewhat more ’ nitrogen d or 2 per cent) and rather' less phosphoric :tcid than steamed bone i meal. The fineness of the meal affects | its value; the finer the meal the more ' readily available is it as plant food.— Bulletin New York Station. Draining in Place of <>ra<Hng. It is often said' by fanners that low. wet places need to be filled in so that I the water that now settle* in them can ' runoff over tin- surface, nays the Amer- ’ ii-an Cultivator. But anyone who tries to grade up even, a small hollow knows I how ineffective this method proves. A ' tile drain dug through the center of the ! wet place, if a small one. and with two | or three branches if larger, will do the i work much mone cheaply and effect a ’ permanent Improvement. Where a large quantity of water runs into the low place from adjoining uplands the drain may not at omv Im- able to re- | move it. But water standing over a field even for two or three days, while ; an under-drain beneath it is carrying off rhe surplus water, does no harm to any crop. There are, in fact, no crops on the laud in spring excepting winter grain. We have had winter wheat cov ered on a flat piece of land several inch- I es deep with water, which froze over the surface, but without any injury to the wheat. The water sank away un- I der the lee. By tin- time a thaw came I the surface was dry and the enqi had simply been saveil by tlie ice from exposure to tlie freezing and thawing of | ytrfnee soil it would otherwise have received. Small Litters Arc Best. I believe that a sow that produces six or eight pigs at a litter will bring a lietter Income generally than one that produces twelve or fifteen pigs, says a writer In an exchange. Tile reason why I think so is this: A sow In farrowing twelve or fifteen is almost sure to have a lot of them small, very runty and no account whatever. Almost sure to be all sizes, and what is more disgusting than to have a large litter of pigs of all sizes. A litter of tills kind seldom grows nnd does ns much giMMI according to the Timml conBUflied as a smaller litter. The unevenness of tlie litter seems to Im- tinworst feature of the situation, for tlie reason that tlie larger ones fight off the smaller ones, and thereby, after a while, the smaller ones begin to dwindle and die, and nftex all. you have nothing litft of your large litter but tl few of tlie larger ones, where, if you had eight goods pigs to start with, you would not Im- bothered with the trouble I have spoken of. Drinkina Water. Speaking of drinking water for the liens Is ll subject too often left out of consideration, says-Home and Farm. They don't want or need a great deal, but they want it witli a vehemence that makes tip for any lack in quantity. And In cold weather they ought to have it witli tin* chill taken off. Cold water may not hurt the lien's teeth, but It does the rest of their organism, nnd its isn't good for them. A good plan is to give tlie flock water three times a day. nnd to empty the vessel from which they have drunk afterward, so us to prevent the water freezing in it. Guard Against Hog Cholera. On farms where cholera appeared lust summer and full new hog lots i ought to lie provided this spring, and ! tlie ntiimnls should not lie allowed tn run in pastures which were frequented | by diseased stock. If necessary, hiw ' a patch of clover, which will take th" 1 place of a regular pasture field. Lots : can usually be moved nt compnrntlve- ' ly small expense, i'nless precautions j of this kind are taken, another out- ! break may occur at any time. Proper sanitation, food and good care may ward it off. Good Fences on the Farm. Good fences are an important thing , on every farm, and they nei-d to be kept In good repair. Keiqi weeds nnd ; brush well culled out of the cornera. |

Ul.\ Hem Winter I’uitdfngs. A coftage pudding with nppleg Im delieloUH. Pan*, quarter and <<>rtt tart- apples enough to stake two quart*. Pill the Hpph-H 111 a <h*i'|> buttered dish with: it half cup of witter nnd two tubl<-M|M>nufulH of sugar. Bake lu it moilevaie oven twenty mlnuti*M. Tnko otic |dut of Uour. a pinch of wilt, two teiiHpownfulH «f finking powder and a tabh-Ki'winful of augur. Rub through n sieve nud mix lu the flour with that i fingers tin—- tabh-H|»ioiifulH of butter; add one rttp nf milk and one egg. well beaten and stir with a h|km>ii until it la a smooth paHte. Take the illsii from the oven nnd put thia l-atier over the apples; return to the oven au<l latke twenty-five tnluutca. Serve with a sauce. <'ain*<<l iM-rrtes or clicrries. with very little of 'li» l!i|u.bl. may Im* uaed in ptace of the apples. Pour the batter <ever the fruit>aud take. Ise the fruit tw flavor the sauei-. For raisin puff mix two tablespimnfulai of sugar with a lialf cup of butter null add two eggs well beaten, one cup of «w«i-t milk and two cups of flour, into which two t»«as|MH»ntuls of baking pow der have lieoa slftmf. A«M one and one-half cups of raisins that liave been seedinl and cut In half. When thoroughly mixed |M>ttr Into a buttered pudding dish and stenm nw iiottre without lifting the cover. Servo with a h<4 sauct*. A delicate and deHelmui spotige padding i« made tints: Place over tie- tire in a double boiler one pint of milk, a half cup of sugar and a piurh of suit. Mix together a half oup eorb of U.utr and butter and add to the bolUng uiilk to make stiff blitter. Remove from the tire, ami when partly -t-ad add to the batter the beaten yolks of tkve egg* and last Is-at the whites of rhe eggs to a froth and add them. P-«ur the mixture itut> buttered pudding dish and place tlie dish in n pan half tilh-d. with trailing water. Set in a brisk oveu and bake from thirty to forty-live tasmtea. Test it with a splint. Serve *s quickly as possible with the following sauce: Place over the tire to Isiilhtne large cup of milk; stir to a cream a half rup of butter ittwi one cup of powdered sugar and add one egg well iM-aton au«t one teaspoonful of vanilla. M lien ready to serve Mir tills mixture-into tUe boiling milk. Frica*Hee»s Cut a fowl and put into- rhn-e quarts of water: season to tlie family taste. Wiien cooked remove the hones, while tin- meat is out add to the water, probably iMiiied down to a quart now. the following: Beat two tablespoon fills of well-browned flour into a half cupful of cold; water, or better, sweet milk, if iranvenlent-. when Iw-nteu smooth stir quickly into the lioiling broth and let it cook ten minutes. If celery is liked, chopped celery may be Irailed with the fwL Fowls are Iw-tter than chickens and only require longer cooking Drop the meat back into the gravy or broth: in five minutes serve on the hot bread. Pour over ail a moderate amount of gravy, serving np tin- reinuJiMler in a gravy boat to be passed to those preferring an unusual amount of it. Mutton fricassee needs only a cheap piece of good mutton, ts-aes taken out and prepared as fowl. Jelly Dintnonds. One pound of butter and lard; rub witli one and one-half pounds of sugar, one pint of eggs, one and one-fourth pints of milk, egg coloring, two poiindH of Hour and oue ounce of linking jm»wder; flavor with vanilla. Bake hot in tint, sheet and cut in two; set together witli Jelly. Frost on top with vanilla icing and ornament witli jelly. Fancy Cnp Cakes. Cream together one and one-fourth pounds of sugar, nine ounces of butter am! Inrd. seven eggs, mid egg coloring; add oue pint of milk witli one-half of an ounce of ammonia, then two and one-fourth pounds of flour; grease little scalloped molds, very lightly, half till, sprinkle witli currants and baktt hot, al 4<H» degrees. Hints to Housekeepers. To decorate a grate that is not r<quired for use place in it some small pots containing ferns. Collect small fir cones, varnish them, nnd throw around In the grates, so the pots shall be hidden. If you pscsess a cosey corner with a shelf at tlie top have a zinc trough made to tit it, and fill tills with souio luirdy foliage nnd flower plants. They will last a long time and add greatly to tin- beauty of tlie room. Furs will look mucii improved if they are cleansed witli bran heated In the oven. Rub the hot liran well into tin- fur with a piece of flannel, then shake the fur to remove all particles, and brush thoroughly. Fur collars Hint have become soiled from ruin blng against tin- hair may lie made t<> look like new by using hot bran on them. Apply tin- bran a hccoikJ time if the fur is badly soiled. Meat ami poultry, to lie served cold, may lie ver» much Impruved In appearance by being glazed. The process Is very simple. An excellent glnze may. In- made of half mi ounce of gelatine dissolved in a pint of water, mid flavored ns well as colored with extract of beef. To be successful the meat must be perfectly cold before the glaze is put on, mid tlie first coating should la- allowed to dry before the second is applied. Tlie glaze must lie well melted and warm aud applied with a brush.