Democratic Press, Volume 2, Number 77, Decatur, Adams County, 2 April 1896 — Page 7

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( HAFTER IV. B Xbout thin time an ineident occurred I of which 1 can »i*ak freely, for I witnoaacd it. | Have I said that for yeara ray favorite walk ran |>a»t Tumbledown Farm?' Una I evening 1 hud atrollvd gently there, and I before 1 turned my atejia homeward it via qt.ite dark. Juat a» I approached | the garden gate I »iw a woman in a lightI colored dree* com# up the hill, and innneI diately 1 heard a strong, harsh voice any: j "Is that you. Vanity?” "Yea." replied another voice, which 1 reeog hired. !■ Walking as I was on the grass at the tide «t the road, my movements were ’ noiseless, and the deep shadow of the hedge must have quite hidden mF from I view. My next step brought me close to I the garden gate, and here 1 could see a | tall man heating the ground with his I walking stick in a violent way. | “Late again!” he said, more severely I than before. ‘‘Night after night you go I wandering off, why or where I can’t Imagine. Do you know the hour?” "Know the hour? Not If Vanity replied, in a tone thinly disguised by affected gaiety. “Time passes quickly." "When you are not with me, you mean," replied the tall man. “You selfish, willful jades "Don’t la* cross,” interposed Vanity. The white figure drew close to the tall dark figure, and. as well as I could see, she laid her head against his shoulder. He pushed her off. with a savage oath, and I saw him stalking back to the house. In went the great strong form, after followed Vanity's slow white figure; bang went the door, and somehow through the crash I thought 1 heard a cry of pain or fear. You may be sure I turned this incident over in my mind a good many times; and though I made nothing out of it, I resolved to tell Willie what I had seen. It •was clear that at present the old father ' was not the only inmate of Tumbledown Farm; for though I could not discern any feature, the form of this stranger was that of a great able-lsolied man. Was he a visitor only? Why. then, should he charge her with being late night after I night? And how should a visitor speak to her in so violent a manner? Was he a I brother? Was he a husband? One thing was clear to my mind: Willie did not know about his sweetheart all that was neves j vary to be known by a lover. 1 resolved j to start him on the track of inquiry; and ; it happened, curiously enough, that soon ; after he came to me to talk over his love affairs, which had come to a crisis. They had arranged a new meeting place --a little swinging gate, which you may gee even now standing at the corner of the plantation. So far they kept up a pretense of accident in these encounters; kind sunset after sunset found them at this swinging gate, ready to stroll off different ways, if need arose. At last, one Saturday night, Willie resolved to apeak his mind. Vanity was leaning upon the gate, swinging herself to and fro, fitting her white finger-tips into the blossoms of a long stalk of foxglove. A painter might have chosen her as a model <of a temptress. "Vanity,” said he a* last, and felt that this was a great stride to make in a breath. “What is it?” she asked st lying the pink thimble of foxgloves with the most alluring carelessness. “Have you any news to tell me?” “What a white hand!” cried Willie, feeling more himself all of a sudden. “A pretty—little—white—hand!" “There are no rings to set it off.” Vanity said, looking at her hand with a pout. Then her face rippled into a smile and a laugh. “Cover your hand with diamonds, cover it until every finger carries a fortune,” ■he cried, “and the hand would not look eo beautiful as now. Vanity, dear Vanity!” “Yes,” she said. “What have you got to eay to Vanity—dear Vanity?” She raised her eyes, so that the last beam of sunlight touched them and irradiated their dangerous brilliancy. “May 1? may I?” Willie trembled at his own daring, yet he lifted the hand to his lips while ho thus asked leave to kiss it. Vanity burst out laughing. “May 1! mny I! Os course you may!” •he cried. “Dear timid lad! Look here!” Light as a flying bird, and as graceful, •he touched his cheeks with her lips, skimming away after a pressure which ■would have scarcely hurt a butterfly's wing. But her breath was on him, and her brilliant laughing eyes were sparkling close to him. Delight—delight with pain in it—shot through Willie's heart. “Can I pass now?” demanded an imperious voice behind him, with marked emphasis. "If it will not be inconvenient!” Willie looked round. There stood Nancy .Steele! Neither of the lovers had noticed her approach, for she had a Ifirhr, swift step, and got over the ground quickly. "Is that you, Willie?” said Nancy, speaking now in her most agreeable voice. “I did not see your face. What a pleasant evening!” and passed by, showing to him no vexation whatever, nor even manifesting any curiosity. “Who is that?” Vanity asked, disdainfully. “Where does she come fropt? At least, where did her bonnet come from?” “She is only a girl I know.” Willie replied, hardly able to speak for confusion. "Nothing more. I assure you.” Courting was over for that evening. Willie felt dashed by the sudden appearance of Nancy. Vanity, too, assumed an expression new to her half angry, half reflective; and there was a coldness in their parting such ns might have signified that their commencing tenderness was ready to vanish. What thoughts were in Miss Vanity's mind I cannot conjecture. As fur Mas*or Wilh 1 know he went downhill hang

Ing his bead, repulsed, baffled, foolish, r.-ady to abandon thia pretty Vanity, ask .Nancy's forgiveness, marry her, and live like a respectable man. CHAPTER V. Heavy was Willie’s heart that night. He was ashamed of himself, and dread.*! the thought of meeting Nancy Steele, but events hurried him forward. Next morning when on his way to his place of business. he saw Nancy at n distance coming toward him. Bho held her hand out in a friendly way. "That was your Cousin Alice I saw with you last night, I suppose?” said Nancy, with n fa perfect gayety. "Certainly not,” Willie replied. "What made you think of her?” "I felt certain she must be a near relation when I saw her kissing you." Then she went on: "How many such kissing acquaintances have you got, Willie?" "Well, you see, Nancy ” Willie began. “I saw,” said Nancy, laughing still. “I had rather not have »een it, Willie.” Now she looked sad. “Never mind," she cried, with a smile, and a sigh, passing on: “I tell no tales.” That night Willie came to me and laid the whole case before me. “Tell me candidly, doctor," he said, “what I ought to do." "You ought never to speak to Miss Vanity Hardware again; nor to see her. if you can help it. I have a suspicion that this Miss Vanity Hardware has a secret to keep," said I, resolved to tell him all I knew. "Have you ever seen a wedding ring on her finger?" “What?" cried Willie, leaping up as if a bullet had gone through him. “1 believe your sweetiieart. Miss Vanity Hardware, is a married woman," I went on. “Mrs. Vanity Somebody, as sure as my name is John Book. Don’t hold up your hand, Will, nor lift your voice, nor speak one word. I have seen that woman's husband," and I related to him the scene I had witnessed a few evenings ' before. "It is surprising—very surprising,” said he, like a man trying to disbelieve what he knows must be true. “But this stranger may not.be a husband after all, doc- , dor." “Quite true; he may not be a husband; let us hope he is,” I replied, determined to give him my whole mind. “Oh, Will, she ' will make a fool of you. She was born to deceive hearts like yours.” Uphill he hastened with a beating heart. ! Somehow, as he drew nearer to the spits where he and Vanity used to meet the girl seemed to renew her enchantments. If she’iad any deep hidden trouble might not he be her friend and comforter? He was pondering that question in a warm transport, when he saw Vanity standing before him. “I urn glad to see you this evening,” she said, with a serious air. "Thank Hod you are here. Willie!” “Why are you so glad ?” he asked. “I have something to say to you, Willie," she murmured. "Something very serious." Her voice was not the voice of love. Sail, timorous, full of foreboding, intimating a dark uncertain future. Willie stopped her. "And I have something to say to you! Let me speak first!" She raised her eyes, and read in his face what was coming. For a moment she »<*emed irresolute, not knowing whether to speak or be silent; and he seized his opportunity. He drew her to his side, and in a few low words told her how much he loved her. She could restrain herself no longer. A sob, which appalled her lover, broke from her ashy lips. For another moment she struggled with irresistible grief; then all her frame shook with crying, and she buried her face in her hands. "Oh, Willie! my heart is breaking tonight! Breaking—breaking! forever broken!” Awe-struck, and scarcely knowing what he did, Willie took her hand in his. But she cast him off imperiously, and drew away from him, as if there must be a space hot ween them. "It Is hopeless, Willie—hopeless," she cried. “I love you—more, far more than you love me. But you can never marry me.” Willie remembered the story of the stranger, and his heart died within him. “Vanity," he asked, with a faltering tongue, "are you—married?" "Married!” she exclaimed, her excitement arrested by sheer surprise. "What made yon think of such a thing?” She spoke as with indignation, but the tone was music in Willie's ears. "If you are free,” he said joyfully, "if you can return my love, nothing else shall stand between us." "Is marriage the only bar that can come between us?” she asked. "I know of no other," Willie answered, wondering and fearing. Thon, with gathering boldness, he cried, "I fear no other!" "Poor boy," she answered, shaking her head. "We have lived in different worlds. Listen!”—her voice became low and deep—"there runs between you and me (like that stream) something which must divide us forever. It is red as blood, hot ns fire, cruel as death. I love you, Willie. Who could help it? 1 might have lived for you. God knows, this moment, 1 could die for you! But you must see me no more. There is something better in store for you than my love. Good-by! If you love me—ls you pity me—let me go alone!" Ho watched her as. with rapid steps, she hurried across the field to their own little gatir. it swung back as she went through, and when she turned into the plantaitno, lie saw her bury her face in her hands. Upon the peaceful evening nir another heart-broken sob was borne, like the last cry of one drowning in some quiet cruel sew; and then she disappeared.

chapter n. Vanity was gone. Willis Snow was struggling with a rush of feeling, violent and turbid, like a mill race; and yet he weighed hie sweetheart in the balntire more carefully than he could have weigh* ed her In his quietest mood. In common convenmtlon alm was frivolous and malapert; against thia fault ho put the tremulous varnestneaa of her voice In this last supreme BS.ra.nt, "Vanity loves me!" quoth the deluded boy. "That much is sure. Vanity tevea me—loves me loves tue tenderly!" After their parting nt the brook tea days elapsed without his seeing her again. Mi-nnwhile, by every honorable means ho tried to learn something about her and her father, but when the Information ha picked up was put together with that which I had learned myself elsewhere, ws remained ns much in the dark as ever, Tim Hardwares kept no regular servant. An old charwoman was engaged to do the housework and the cooking, coming In at •even in the morning and leaving punctually at one. At five site returned, and did such further turns as were needful; and at eight she left for the night. Os old Mr. Hardware this woman saw little or nothing. IL- never came down to breakfast. and he would not suffer hi-r to enter any room where he might happen to lie. Cross-examined, the old lady declared that no visitor ever came near the house. Concerning the strange man whom 1 had seen with Miss Hardware, she alleged tlyit she know nothing of him. It was Impossible ho could be so often at the farm without her knowledge. Was the old gentleman a kind father? She dared say; it was all coughing, and wheezing and groaning morning, noon and night. Did the old gentleman drink? Poor old soul! not a drop—lived on gruel and dry toast. At last the lovers met again. One evening, as Willie looked, with scarcely hopeful eyes, across their favorite field, ho saw Vanity standing at the gate, waiting. as she had so often waited before. She was gazing |>ensively at the distant hills, an<l did not we Willie until he was at her side. "What brings you here this evening?” he asked. "Fate!” she answered in a composed voice, as if she had preparetl, the reply a week before. “The last rime we met you said yov loved me—did you not?" “I did.” “Vanity,” Willie cried, “I want nothing more in all the world!" She looked up. “Yes, one thing more!" he cried; “yon love me—you are not married: yet you cannot marry me! What can the reason be? I have it!" he cried. "You have promised to marry some one else.” "I have not.” “Then why may we not marry?” “You must ask me no more. If I let my liking for you grow into love," she went on. in a low voice, "I would love you till I died. You would take me out of myself, and hold me as your own. Do what you would, be what you would, I could never take back the heart I has given.” “Well, Vanity, what then?" "You could never love me so.” “I should not. What do you mean?" said Willie. "If you know that there was a fact in my life —an ineffaceable fact—which would leave me open to sudden shame; something that children ought never to kndw about a mother, that friends ought never to know about a friend, that a husband ought never to know about his wife, unless ho loved her with a love that was unquenchable —what then ?” "I don’t quite understand you,” WilHe replied, hesitating. "My love is unquenchable." “If all that were true of me, would you still say that nothing in the world could alter your love?” “Y-e-s," answered Willie slowly. “I believe so.” Then, after a pause, he added, “Os course, it would be nothing really disgraceful.” Vanity rose with a sad smile. She touched him on the cheek. She seemed the elder and the stronger of the two. "Listen," she answered, in a tone that sunk into his very soul. "If you had been brought up all your life amongst people who were some thoughtless, some vicious, some selfish, until you hardly knew that there was such a thing as goodness; and • if, all of a sudden, you saw somebody who drew forth a pure and noble love, which flowed out for you like a delicious stream, promising to gladden a hard, scorched life; and if. just ns you were going to drink, something told that you had no right to that love—Willie! Willie!” sho cried, starting up wildly—“if the veil were torn off me, you would hate me! Go, and let me go! Tell nobody what I have said; let it be a secret between you and myself forever. Don't w rite to me —as you value my life, don’t write to me! O, Willie, Willie, my heart is broken!” "You are nervous and excited," he said, soothingly. "You must be distressing yourself without reason. Are we to part in this way?” "We are," she replied, grown more composed. “I have been foolish, and I must pay the penalty. Forget me, Willie, for get all about me! Remember me only at a boy remembers his first love.” "Am I n- er to so.* you again?” "Never, except at this gate," said Van ity decisively; “and never unless you flu# me here, without asking me to come.” (To be continued.) Boy Train Wreckers. An epidemic of train wrecking seems to have broken out among the boy? of tho Eastern States. One day last week a New York policeman saw a gang of about ton young boys In Dougins street. They went directly to the Brighton Beach railroad cut. Then they sealed the hill and began rolling down rocks. When the stones reached the railroad tracks the boys arranged them carefully on tho tracks in a solid pile and then braced them on each side with nails and sticks of wood. Next they placed an oil can on the top of the pile. The policeman chased them and followed Thomas Hunkitt, aged 1(1, to his home. The next day he obtained a warrant for the boy’s arrest. In court Blunkitt swore he did not mean to wreck a train, and as the policeman's testimony was uncorroborated, Justice Steers discharged the boy with a reprimand. The engines of t.ie Northwestern railway in England are worth £5,000,000,000. To maintain this value an old engine Is withdrawn every five days and replaced by a new one.

REAL RURAL READING WILL BE FOUND IN THIS DE* PART M ENT. Two Million Dollar* Warth of Cheat* nuta Imported Annually A Home* Made Clod Crusher—Brooder for Early Chicks Profitable Cowa. Cheat m>tH for Profit* Upwards of |2,00».ooo worth of nuts, mostly chestnuts, are linimrtcd annually Into the United Btate., yet chestnuts are selling nt aa much per bushel at title Him* us they did during the war. At present prlcea, there Is no more Inviting field hi nil horticulture than the growing of these improved chestnuts. At this time, when the prices of many farm products are verging on the coat of production, and some going far Is--low it, Improved chest nuts not only yield a large profit to the grower, but sometimes make returns that seem fabulous. A grove once planted Is a source of great revenue for generations. 1 own a farm of 140 acres of land at Emllle, Pa., and have nearly 1,000 grafted Paragon chestnut trees six years old on the farm; some of the trees Itore from six to eight quarts of nuts per tree this fall; this grove of chestnuts will yield more revenue for the year IWO ban all flic rest of the farm. It is to be remembered that large tracts of land suitable for this crop enn be bought at $5 to $lO per acre. Much has been written on bow to keep boys on the farm. The problem would be solved If the farm could be made profitable. With twenty acres of improved chestnut trees In bearing the strife among the ls»ys would be, not who will go to the city, but who will stay on the farm. Cleanliness in Butter-Making. We hear a great deal about the value of bacteria cultures. It Is likely thpt some good will result from their introduction; there is danger, however, that in the attempt to produce the best result we overlook one of the oldest cultures in existence, the culture of cleanliness. We believe it was Wesley who said cleanliness was next to godliness, a motto believed by many good people to be found in the Bible, says the Creamery Gazette. It contains. in fact, a very strong element of Bible doctrine. There Is no place, however, where cleanliness Is so essential as in the dairy. From the brushing of the cow’s udder until the tub is ready for shipment, cleanliness is of the utmost importance. Dirt on the outside of the tub. no matter how tine the butter may be. will seriously as- . feet the price. Culture of cleanliness cannot be purchased in quantity. It can only bo had by self-control, dllligence, formation of rtic habit from childhood up, and an instinctive hatred of dirt, and all the better if the Instinct is inherited. Let us get all the good possible out of cultures and starters and all that science can give us on that line, but do not forget the old and reliable culture of cleanliness. An Excellent Clod Crusher* The Illustration shows a home-made Implement that will not only crush clods, but will be found very serviceable In fitting any soil for planting, making the surface exceedingly fine and mellow. The importance of securing a fine seed-bed cannot be too strongly urged upon farmers, and this machine so finely supplements the

HOME-MADE CLOD CRUSHER.

work of the cultivator as to make it worth any one's while to spend the necessary time in making it. The cylinder can be large 'or small—the larger It is up to a certain point the easier will be the draft. Two disks are cut from planks, and triangular-shaped pieces tirmly nailed to these, square joists split at the mill serve well for this purpose. Shafts are then added. Soil Moisture, Prof. W. D. Gibbs, at the farmers* convention, in Ohio, made the statement that it requires 1,200 tons of water to make an acre of corn. He urged the systematic saving of the natural moisture of the soil by eradication of the weeds. They act as so many pumps to bring the moisture to the surface and evaporate It. He showed that the natural moisture of the earth is easily exhausted by Improper methods of cultivation; that frequent levai and shallow cultivation furnishes a mulch at the surface: that while loose soil will hold in solution twice as much moisture ns compact soil, yet if the entire soil surface be loose it will soon exhaust the subsoil of its moisture, because, being loose, it parts with moisture rapidly under the sun’s rays. and. being loose, has not so great capillary power to bring the plant roots the moisture of the subsoil. Protecting Fruit Trees. Do not fool away your time making decoctions of paint, copperas or any similar compound. Weave together eight laths so they will be one-eighth of an inch apart and fasten them about the tree. Thia will afford protection from rabbits, borers, sheep, mice ami sunscald, and will last a long time nt a cost of a half-cent a year. I have used this protection for twelve years, and have not lost a single tree, says A. .1. Phillips, secretary Wisconsin State Horticultural Society. Goad for the Garden, Don’t make your onion-bed the same place you did last year, just because you have been making It always in that corner of the garden. Change them around; put your onions where you had

cabbage or tomatoee Ims year, and nut peas ami beans where you had parsnips mid beets. A change of ground la good for vegetables, ns a change of pasture Is for cheep. All plants do not take the siinie nourishment from the soli. Hence, when <>ne vegetable has exhausted such projH-rtleH of the moII ns It needs the ground Is still rich In some other property that will produce u good crop of some other kind of plant. Bo we see the necessity of rotation of garden vegeta Idea, and have seen Its effectfi by trying It. Try for yourselves mid lie convinced, Hays the National Stockman. For Early Chickens. It Is not a difficult matter to hatch out chicks early with hens. It la u more difficult matter to make them live and grow when liatehed In cold weather. They must stay under the hen almost constantly In order to keep warm, but after a few days the hen will not continually brood them, even If cold, and tho chicks become chilled. The engraving shows a device for keeping the brood warm. It Is a coop with glass top set on top of a pen tilled with boating bors«> manure. It la. In fact, a coop on top of a hot bed. The bottom of the coop Is of thin boards, so that sufficient warmth will get up Into the coop to make It very comfortable. The ben and the chicks are placed Inside mid sand and chaff given to

A BROODKR.

scratch in. A score of early chicks can thus be raised that will set to laying early in the fall. Cow I'i-oh Plowed in Fait or Sprine. Experiments conducted at the Alabama station show that approximately six and one-half times more of nitrogen is found in the vines of cow peaa In the fall than in those left over to th* following spring. The reason of this Is that the nitrogenous materials are lost by decomposition. The materials of a mineral character will be also lost from the leaves being blown or washed to other localities. The North Carolina station has gotten the best results from plowing under after the pea vines are ripe in the fall, following with wheat, and not allowing them to remain on the land until the next spring. Cow ]H*as have somewhat more fertilizing properties than common clover. Comfort for Crown. The simplest, cheapest and moat effective rem«*dy I know of is to feed them, says the New England Homestead. As soon as the corn is planted, scatter about two quarts of shelled corn thinly over the whole piece, and this amount will be sufficient whether It is a half acre or ten. Every evening repeat the operation, using one quart. Do not put up any scarecrows, twine or anything else to notify the crows that you have corn planted ready for them. The crows will not dije up the ground or pull up the younger sprouts if they can get it without this trouble. From a peek to a half bushel will be sufficient to feed them until the crop is too large to pull. Thrifty Forming:. Farming ought to be done systematically, adopting those systems and plans which have proved the most successful in each individual esufe. says the Market Garden. Have a time and place for everything, and see that everything is kept in its place when not in actual use. And what must we do and have in order to make farming jray? First and foremost, we must give to the farm and the farm business our personal attention. We must have bone and muscle, a large amount of ambition, which needs to be put in constant use for alsuit 313 days In a year, for without work on a farm nothing seems to do well. Beat Stock for Pears, Pears are generally [toorer growers than apples, and many varieties have to be double-worked in order to get a good tree. This is particularly true of some of the recent introductions of winter pears. Barry ami B. 8. Fox, for instance, whi<;h always have to be top grafted. One of the best, if not the best, stocks for top-grafting Is tho Kieffer, but any strong, upright, vigorous sort will do. The Kieffer is a quick grower, hardy, ami can l»e bought at a reasonable price. It is as easy to graft pears as apples, and any one can do it with a little study and practice. The Profitable Cowa. The difference between a cow that will produce 200 pounds of butter per years at 25 cents per pound, and oue that will produce 300 pounds, is $25. During ten years of the cow's life there Is a difference in favor of the 300-pound cow of $250. With twenty such cows there would be a credit In favor of the superior cows of $5,000 and with forty, SIO,OOO would be the amount your bank account would show over and above what It would with the cow that produced 200 pounds per year for ten years. Fnrminu Not Hard Work. Fannetw tire not an over-worked class. Iu fact, there is no class of laborers having work on hand at all times that are so little chained to the treadmill of labor as are the farmers. Work well and hard they do—that is, the enterpristag ones—yet there are snatches of time, leisure hours, stormy days, anti, above all, winter evenings, which give leisure and the opportunity for reading far riitove that of any other class of laboring people, says the Maine Farmer, Armenian Corn. Armenian corn Is one of the latest novelties in the grain line. Its value has yet to be proved for the conditions of *Uls section.

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llnw to Make Delicious Biscuit. At three o'clock In the afternoon (In winter) dissolve one-half a compreMed yen Mt cake In a half cup of liike-wnnu water. But Into it bowl one quart of flour, make a hole In the center and pour In the yeast and one pint of warm milk. Btlr thoroughly with a spoon, cover well and stand In a warm place until light, in the evening add two well-lmaten eggs, one-half cup of sugar, one heaping tcas]>oonful salt, one genorone half cup of butter, or butter and sweet bird mixed. Knead thoroughly, uddlng flour enough to mnke u velvety dough; cover and stand In a warm place over night. In the morning knead down, turn out on a bread-ltoanl and roll out with a rolling pin to onehalf inch in thickness; cut out with a cooky cutter and spread melted butter over the tops; fold over and place in shallow tins; cover and put in a warm place until light. Bake in a quick oven from fifteen to twenty minutes. If properly made these rolls are delicious, —Ladles' Home Journal. Rice Flour Batter Cakes. Melt one-quarter of a pound of butter or sweet bird lu one quart of milk heated not quite to the boiling point. When the butter Is melted |>our one-half the milk Into a mqairate pan. and stir into it three eggs la-aten very light and a large tabtespoonful of wheat flour. Then add rice flour sufficient to make a stiff tatter. Into this a small teacupful of good yeast is to be stirn-d, and the mixture then thinned by adding the unusued half of the milk. Then cover it and le* it stand until it has become very light, when it is ready tu be baked like buckwheats. Coffee Cneturd in Cups. Mix well eight egg yolks with eight ounces of sugar; dilute with six custard cups of boiling milk amt a good cupful of black coffee; pass through a fine strainer, till the cups and put them in a low pan with boiling water to half their height; take off the froth that may rise to the surface, cover the pan and let simmer gently for twenty minutes. When the custard is well set. let cool in the water, drain, wipe the cups and serve cold. Poached Ekk*. Fill si spider over half full of hot water, add a tablespoonful of salt, break some fresh eggs in a saueer, kwping the yolks whole; when the water begins to bubble, slide the eggs into the spider and let cook slowly until the white is done, remove with a skimmer to a hot platter, being careful to have no water, put a piece of butter on each egg and serve. Broiled Steak with Onion Sauce. Season a medium-sized sirloin steak with salt and pepper and broil. Dish up, pour onion sauce over aud serve. Onion sauce—Slice fine four onions, fry light brown in butter, add half a pint of brown gravy aud a ladleful of broth, salt and pepper. Reduce to a proper consistency, and finish with chopped parsley aud a few drops of vinegar. Tartu. When pies are to be made it is a good plan to make more crust than needed for present use, and bake It up in shells for tarts. Bake in the gem pans. These shells will keep quite a while In a close tin box, and are handy for emergency to heat a moment in the oven, then fill with some nice jam or j<dly. They make a pretty addition to the tea table. Peanut Candy. Crack and skin a quart of freshly roasted peanuts. I’ut in buttered tins, aud pour over them, when it is prepared, the following: Two cups New Orleans molasses, one cup ot brown sugar, one tablespoontul vinegar, one tablespoonful butter. Cook until brittle. Bints to Housekeeper*. A smoky celling may be cleaned with soda and water. Simmered together, rice, flour and water make a good cement. Ripe tomatoes will remove Ink and other stains from the hands. Make your knife cases of flannel, stitching it into compartments. Add a little gum arable to boiled standi, which will give it n lustre. A pinch of salt added to tlie white ot eggs will make them beat up quicker and lighter. To make marking ink, take one dram of nitrate of silver, one of gum arable, one ounce ot rain or distilled water, and mix until dissolved. A tiny piece ot' bicarbonate of soda mixed with tomatoes that are to be cooked with milk orcream will, if added first, prevent the tnllk from curdling. Tincture of myrrh is one of the best things to use as a mouth wash. It hardens tlie gums, leaves a clean taste In tlie mouth and a pleasant odor on the breath. Scratches on varnished wood may often be removed by laying a course cloth saturated with linseed oil over them, allowing it to remain a while; polish wit h a dry flannel. I laee an oyster shell in tlie tea kettle and it will collect the hard matter that is liable to form on the Inside of the kettle. Tlie shells should be washed with a brush before using. Remove the shells every few weeks, and replace with f'-osU ones if the water Is very , hard.