Democratic Sentinel, Volume 14, Number 44, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 November 1890 — Page 5
TO-DAY. BT MRS. NAPOLBON B. MORAXGE. The flowers by the lone wayside look smiling to the sun above; They live their lives, are satisfied. Nor question God’s pervading love. The joy of their being lies In living, in the present hour; They ask no bounty from the skies But sunshine, air and gentle shower. The storms obey a secret will. And move majestic on their course; They have a purpose to fulfill. Why pause to cavil at its source? The new-blown rose is queen to-day; The breeze is in its dancing mood; That both must shortly pass away Makes neither on the morrow brood. To-day, to-day. is Nature’s song; To-day her gifts are heaven-sent; Of all her pliant..happy throng. Man sounds the note of discontent. He overlooks the fruitage rare; The glory of the harvest field; He takes a sad and meagre share Of all the gladsome earth cau yield. He wastes maturity in strife, In impotent and vague unrest; Forgets that at the feast of life He is the chief invited guest. To-day, to-day, is Nature's song; Build well to-day, the past forget; Live for to-day, its joys prolong; To-morrow is a dream as yet. New York City (Station A).
Dr Elfenstein's Mission
A Remarkable Romance.
BY EMILY THORNTON.
CHAPTER I. A STRANGE SUMMONS. In his unusually pleasant office on Broadway sat Lemuel Gray, a middleaged mau and succesful lawyer, in deep thought. In his hand lie held a letter, which, after a few moments, he again carefully read. As it refers to people and events to ba mentioned often in the remarkable story about to be related, we give the contents entire: Yonkers, April la, 1880. Mr. Lemuel Gray: Dear Sir —lt is with great difficulty that I pen the following, being very ill, but as the object 1 have in view by thus addressing you, is of great importance, 1 will wiite in as few words as possible. You are aware, being my confidential adviser, that I expected to sail for E.irope shortly, tn order to attempt to unravel the mystery sunoundingtlie deatli of Sir Arthur Glendenning, In wiicse fate 1 am so deeply Interested. I wished to vist. in some disguise, the town where Glendenning Hall is situated, to become acquainted with the pre-ent baronet and Lady Constance, his wife, with the nephew and niece residing with them, and to learn something, if possible, about the only sister who married without lliu consent of her family, and who, therefore, was disowned by her relatives, as well as a young girl whom it was said they had adopted. I desired, also, to make inquiries in regard to tlte private character of Antoine Duval, the valet of the present Sir Reginald Glendenning. and to study everything that might bear upon the mystery of the case. I regret to say that my physician declares it impossible tor me to undertake, with safety, tills journey. What do you think of my sending thither u substitute? 1 have in mind a young physician, Dr. Earle Elfensteiu, who resides in your city. I cannot tell you his address, us he moved to a new residence last May. 1 write to ask you to hunt him up for me. Please make a few inquiries us to his circumstances, disposition, and above all, whether lie is an energetic and conscientious man. Inform me in regard to these matters at an early date. If favorable, and the plan meets your approval, set a time when you ca*i meet him at my residence and explain to him the peculiar mission I wisli him to undertake in my behalf. Your presence will be absolutely necessary, as the disease with which 1 am afilicte.l forbids my entering Into the long explanations that must be given in order to instruct him in the performance of the work, should lie agree to undertake it. Please attend to this at once and oblige, yours, etc., Leon Rappelye. To this, a few hours later, the followiug reply was penned; New York, April 16, 1886. Mr. Leon Kappelye; Dear Sir —Fpon the receipt of yours of the 15th, I examined the “City Directory” without delay. I find Dr. Elfensteiu's address to be 47 Exton street. Going at once to the neighborhood, I learned from a reliable source that the young man lias a very small practice- therefore. finds it difficult to support his widowed mother and himself in comfort. This state of his finances is not due to lack of energy, for he is indefatigable in hia efforts to benefit ills patients, hut those who apply to him for advice are, unfortunately, the very poor iu the reglou of his home. He is an exceedingly conscientious and good man, and, from all I can learn, just tiie one to undertake the Important business which you propose, and which 1 fully approve. 1 will meet him at your residence on the the evening of the 18th. It would be well to send him a telegram to that effect as soon as you receive this. Yours sincerely, Lemuel Gray. It was a dull and dreary picture that the eyes of Dr. Earle Elfensteiu rested upon, as he drew back the laeo curtains that draped the parlor window of his co.‘:y home. •*. Ills practice was not large, and far from lucrative. Times were unusually hard, and his bills for services rendered poorly paid, so that he had, indeed, a hard struggle to live. This afternoon he was peculiarly cast down, for his mother (who, since his father’s death four years before, had been obliged to look to him for support) had reminded him that the month’s rent for the flat in which they resided would be due in three days, and he knew lie had not one quarter of the amount required, nor much faith in his ability to collect o«e of the many bills due. It is no wonder, then, that a sigh escaped him, as he turned to greet the sweet-looking lady about fifty years of age, who entered the room, holding an envelope in her hand. “Here is a -.telegram for you, Earle. What can it be?” "I cannot say, as I expected none,” he replied, opening the missive. “This is singular. lam requested to leave the city by the 8 p. m. train for Yonkers, to ! see a gentleman, who is an invalid, on a matter of business. His name is Leon Rappelye, a strange name to me.” “What, shall you do about it?” asked the mother, anxiously.
“I shall go, of course. The message says, ‘you will be met at the station.’ I have just about time to answer a call and meet the train.” “What time shall yon return?” “It will be late, I know; perhaps not until morning, but if possible 1 will return to-night. Good-by. little mother. Who knows but this will bring better things for ns. ” Later, closely protected by a comfortable ulster from the heavy rain that was falling, with a train of serious thoughts in his iniud, occasioned by his poverty. Dr. Effenstein wended his way to the Grand Central Depot, and entered the cars that would bear him to his destination. On dashed the train through the darkness. On, on, and still the young physician brooded over bis troubles, with eyes fixed on the blackness without. Thus he sat, lost in thought, until the whistle blew for the approaching station, and the brakeman, opening the door, called, in a loud voice: “Yonkers, Yonkers!” CHAPTER IL MR. LEON RAPPELYE. The rain was falling in torrents as the train came thundering to the. station, and upon stopping, the usual crowd hurried out, and passing through the wait-ing-room to the street beyond, were soon lost in the gloom. One, however, lingered at the door, looking apparently for some expected person or conveyance. „ He was, as could easily be seen, a stranger in tiie place. He had seareely a moment to wait, however, wlieh a private coachman approached, whip in hand, and accosted him. “I have been sent to meet a gentleman from New York named Elfensteiu. Are you the one?” “I am.” “Then please follow me.” The young man was soon seated in a handsome closed carriage, while the driver also mounted to his box. and they immediately started off at a papid pace. Street after street was traversed, until finally they turned into tiie extensive grounds of an elegant residence. The house before which they stopped was Urge and imposing in appearance, but still had a dark and gloomy aspect. No light was visible at auy of the windows. As the young man stepped across tiie piazza, the large doors were instantly opened by a colored waiter, who motioned him to enter and proceeded to assist in removing his overcoat and wet overshoes. “How is Mr. Rappelye to-night?” asked the visitor. “’Bout as usual, massa. 'Pears like he must die, he is always so badly off for breff. ” “Can I see him?” “Yes, sah, just as soon as you has something to eat. Some dinner is waiting, and de nuss says you am to eat it immejertly, den come up to Ills room. I will show you, derfore, to de diningroom fust.” “Very well,” replied the stranger, wearily; “I am ready.” Crossing the marble floor of the long hall, he was ushered into a room elegantly appointed. The bright grate fire east a cheerful glow around, while the velvet carpet scarcely gave back a footfall. The table was laid for one, and very soon a sumptuous dinner was served, of which lie alone partook. Leaving the stranger to enjoy his solitary meal, we will precede him to the story above, and to the presence of the invalid, whose urgent telegraphic dispatch had brought him to tiie place. Tiie second story back room was large and commodious, opening into a room beyond, where every luxury abounded, for the eomfort of tiie master. Yet in the midst of ail this splendor, sickness had stalked, ever reaching forth his poisoned tongue to Wight and wither tiie owner of it all. “Has he come?” These words issued from the pale lips of the sufferer, who was half sitting, half reclining upon the bed. “Has Dr. Elfensteiu come? 1 thought I heard tiie carriage.” “You did, and he is here.” returned tiie nurse and housekeeper. “1 thought it best to have him take dinner before you saw him. I presume you have much to say and would prefer not to be interrupted. He will be with you in a few moments now.”
The invalid sighed. Then, seeing him greatly pressed for breatli* “You seem to suffer so much, liad you not, better postpone seeing him until morning?” said the nurse. * “Oh, no. I may be worse then. Asthma is so hard to oonquer. I will not defer my business. Has my lawyer come?” “Not yet.” “He should lie here. The cuckoo clock lias sounded half-|>a«t eight some time since.” “Yes, it is a quarter to nine now. But the door-bell rings. I think tiiat is he.” “Set that stand with writing materials close by ray bed. then go down and show both gentlemen to this room: after which you can leave us to ourselves until you hear me ring.” Making herself known, the nurse introduced Earle to Mr. Gray, then led-the way to the sick man’s presence. “Here is Mr. Gray. Mr. Rappelye, and this is your expected friend, Dr. Elfenstein.” Reaching fortji a thin, white hand, the old man smiled feebly, and between struggling breaths managed to say: “I am very glad to see yon.” Taking tiie emaciated hand in botli his, Earle Elfensteiu pressed it tenderly, and in a low tone, full of feeling, responded: “I am glad I could come to you, but sorry, very sorry, to see you so ill.” “You must wonder why I summoned you, an entire stranger, to my side iu this unceremonious way, but I have important business to transact. Talking is such an exertion, my lawyer. Mr. Gray, must explain for me .my wishes, and why I sent for you.” Those words were uttered at intervals, for his short breathing prevented long sentences, and gently releasing his hand Elfenstein took the seat close beside the bed, while Mr. Gray seated himself in a business-like way beside the table. CHAPTER 111. MR iiappelye's proposal. “Dr. Elfenstein,” said Mr. Gray, “my client and friend, Mr. Leon Rappelye, is, as you see, extremely ill. His sufferings are so great that he lids deoutized me to explain his motive in sending so unceremoniously for you to visit him in his home. Our friend is a lonely man, having no relatives living to whom he wishes to leave his largo fortune. He has dictated his last will and testament, and he desires to sign it before he may
be unable to do so; it was necessary for him to see you personally previous to placing his name' to the document iu which, I may add. you are deeply interested.” Earle Elfensteiu st heard these words, and lookc vyer to the invalid beside 11. “You are surprised, natuia L. again resumed Mr. Gray, “and probably wonder what Mr. Rappelye knows of you. I will explain this at once. Your father was George Elfenstein, a well-known banker: in years gone by he did Mr. Rappelye a never-to-be-forgotten service. His arrival in this country was followed by a long and dangerous illness, when he lay alone among strangers, almost neglected. and he attended to his wants like a brother until lie entirely convalescent. “They met often afterward, and then lost sight of each other. Years of silence passed, when accidentally lie learned about three months Since that his benefactor was dead, and his only-son was a struggling physician in New York, through an intimate friend, who often mentioned his fondness for tlfls talented young man, and in this way Mr. Rappelye became deeply interested in you. He has liea-rd of your fearless, conscientious manner of meeting your engagements, and this was a characteristic lie. particularly wished to find in some young friend. When, therefore, his health entirely failed, so that lie could no longer look after his private business, he determined to send for you, and perhaps place his affairs in your hands.” Tiie lawyer paused, and Earle answered: “Anything that I can do within the range of honor and integrity, I shall be pleased to undertake.” “We felt so. The case then is this: but, of course, you will recognize tile, fact that the history of our friend’s life, which I shall be obliged to unfold to you, is told in strict confidence. Will you promise to regard that confidence as a sacred trust, never to be told to another, until all that is now mysterious has been swept away?” “I will. ” “Then I will proceed. Our friend was the youngest son of Sir Geoffrey Glendenning, residing in a large town near Liverpool. This gentleman had one daughter, who married against his wishes, and three sous—Arthur, who would in ease of his death succeed to the title; Reginald, two years younger; and Fitzoy, the gentleman you see before you, whose severe domestic misfortunes have been so great that for the last twenty-five years lie has been obliged to live in this country, under the assumed name of Rappelye. The cause of this retirement he lias kept, and still wishes to keep, a profound secret. “A short time after the death ot his parents, for they expired within a few months of each other, and after his brother Arthur had come into possession of his title, little turmoils arose between the brothers, and seemed to embitter, them exceedingly. “Reginald, the second son, had an ugly, morose disposition, that was peculiarly exasperating, and whenever the opportunity occurred he delighted in getting Fitzroy into disgrace with the young baronet. “These young men had a very pretty cousin, in whose society they eacli took extreme pleasure. Her name was Constance Leonore Glendenning. It was soon discovered that the affections of the young girl were centered upon Sir Arthur, and this knowledge was immediately followed by a betrothal. “Reginald, being somewhat, disappointed that be could not win the prize, undertook to report several little interviews of a purely innocent and accidental nature that Fitzroy had had .with tills lady to his brother, casting a very sinister light upon them, and assuring Arthur that Fitzroy was endeavoring to supplant him in her favor. “This artful story infuriated the young nobleman, and caused a very bitter interview. Fitzroy indignantly denied every thought of interference, declaring the truth, that his love for Constance was merely cousinly, and urging tiiat lie had lieen slandered. “This Sir Arthur refused to believe,and they parted iu anger, Fitzroy exclaiming, in a moment of unguarded passion, as lie left him: “‘Very well, think so if it suits you; but, mark mo, you shall yet repent your unjust accusations, and, as I live, shall never repeat this insult.’ “Closing tiie door as he spoke, lie stepped into the hall, and stood face to face with Antoine Duval, tiie valet of his brother Reginald, and, from tiie conscious look lie gave him, Fitzroy knew, and after events made him certain, that he had either purposely listened or accidentally hoard the unfortunate remark. “The brothers did not meet again that day, but early the next Fitzroy was awakened by an unusual tumult. “Rising, lie dressed rapidly, and proceeded to investigate the cause of tho disturbance “To his iiorror he was told that Sir Arthur had disappeared during the night. His bed had been occupied as usual, but he had probably been murdered, or very badly wounded, as, while no traces of his body eould be found, evidences of a contest were on every side. “Blood was upon the bed and floor, the window-seat was covered with it, as though he had been dragged through it, and then by means of a rope let down t-<* tiie ground below. “The rope still clung to the balcony. “From the grass to an ornamental lake not far distant were irregular patches of the same human gore. “Beyond that, nothing was ever discovered! . “That lake was thoroughly dragged for the body; the grave by the side of it was searched, not a spot being left in which a corpse could be buried—to no effect. “The body of the murdered Sir Arthur Glendenning was never found. “But, while stupefied with grief over his brother’s loss, our poor friend was made aware that the finger of suspicion pointed to him with singularly fatal evidences of guilt. “A dagger with his name engraved upon the handle was found by the bedside. In the floor, its blade still wet with blood. “Beneath tiie window-seat, caught upon a nail, vras r. fragment of cloth which, upon search being made, fitted exactly into a rent in a dressing-gown of his, that was found hanging in hi-; own closet. “Horrible to relate, some of his brother’s blood still clung to the gown! fTO BE CONTINUED.] PatLAMON had gone forthlo see the world, and he had seen it; and he had learned that God’s kingdom was not a kingdom of fanatics, yelling for a doctrine, but of willing, loving, obedient hearts.,- -Charles Kingsley. ‘
DOMESTIC ECONOMY.
HOUSEHOLD AND AGRICULTURAL TOPICS DISCUSSED. A Budget or Useful Information Relating to the Farm, Orchard, Stable, Far lor and Kitchen. TBit FARM. The Orloff Horse. Dr. Martin, Meroersburg, Pennsylvania, who has given mHell attention to the Orloff breed of horses, gives the following in regard to them in tiie Fanner's Magazine: These fine and highly prized animals are natives of far-off Russia, and it is strange that there is so little known of them by horse-loving Americans. The Orloff -is a low set animal, with a fine arching neck and a heavy coat of hair, as one might expect of a cold climate. Tiie color is generally black, and no is known that is so likely to breed twins as this strain, and when a Russian breeder is fortunate enough to possess a pair of male colts of this breed, and if black in color, they are valued at one thousand dollars, if straight and all right, and when they are three year* old, and happen to mate well, their value is well up in the four figures. They are, of course, driven as stallions, and can only be afforded by those in high official standing. As the American millionaire drives his four-in-hand, so the Russian drives ills Orloffs, but not with cheek lines, as we do. but a single rein to the outside of each animal’s bit; and to keep the horses from traveling too far apart there is a metallic arch resembling a hoop or halfhoop fastened to the tongue or pole of the vehicle, and this arch keeps the horses from spreading out too much, by confining them about midway between the ears and withers. This arch is often ornamented with bells or ribbons to suit the taste and fancy of Russian sports, it is very common, too, for tho Russian to fasten to the hit of eaeli horse a little bag filled with drugs to animate the animals and make them champ the bits and frotli at tho mouth, of course in such a quantity and proportion as will not prove very deleterious to tho health of the. animals, but to accomplish the desired result. Is it not probable that this strain of horses could be bred iu this country, at it*At in our Northern States. I say Northern States because of Russia being a cold climate, and to acclimate them for breeding purposes would be one of the first objects to be kept in view, and would it not add another branch of industry and profit to the American farmer? There is no question that the young twins would command a ready market among our horse fanciers here as well as in Russia. Dlelil Wheat. This variety of wheat was in its day very popular. It is a white wheat, with rather short, stiff straw, a square head and plump berry. Like most white wheats it is not considered quite as hardy as the larger-strawed rod varieties. It is a very starchy wheat, and it had the misfortune to be introduced just at the time when improved flouring processes made the millers ail anxious to get longer red wheats that contained a larger proportion of gluten. It is now found that a mixture of red and white wheat makes more and better flour than either alone It is not likely that Diehl except for seed will ever sell so much higher than other wheat, as it used to do; but it may be profitably sown on land naturally wed) drained and rich. On such land its stiff straw and large, square heads make a fine appearance at harvest time. When Diehl wheat was first introduced some farmers gre w forty-two bushels per acre, the variety outyieldlng under favorable conditions any other in tho same neighborhood. It is especially adapted to very rich land, as its straw seldom lodges or rusts. Exercise lor Idle Teams. On a farm it will often happen tiiat at some seasons there will not be constant work for all the horses usually employed. For various reasons it is the habit of such fanners to devote all the work on one or two teams, and let tho others stand idle in tiie stable or take a run at grass in the pasture. But it is better, even for these idle horses, to do work enough to keep their muscles firm, and prevent the galling of shoulders which comes from allowing too long a season of idleness. These idle horses arc apt to be poorly fed, from a notion tiiat grain is no longer needed. When constant work is not required, not so much grain should be fed. but a couple of quarts of oats at morning,and night will keep the horse in good condition, and in; should be made to earn it. Mares with foal should especially have exercise, not to be overworked in any way, but enough to impress upon the foetus tiiat the dam is bearing an adaptability to do what is expected from it when it develops into a horse.
THE DAlllX, lowa is fast taking a high rank as a dairy State. Much milk is not as good as it might be if people would take proper care of it. The German Dairy Association offers 81,000 for a quick, practical, and reliable ipiik test. If you pack butter for future use, cover with brine, or with a cloth and dampened salt. It takes a long time to persuade some people that cows must be a permanent feature of the farm to make it pay and continue a paying farm. It ought to be a rule in “doctoring” cows that “when you don’t know what to do don’t do anything;” but the contrary is followed, and many dead or injured cows are the result. I never watch my cows when they calve, as I found they do not need it, but I watch their feeding for a few days after calving— A. L. Croxhy. We clip this item from and exchange: At Highland, 111., there is a cream evaporating establishment. The cream is canned and to ail appearahees is a vast .mprovemont upon the article that is usually purchased from the city milkman. It is not sweetened like condensed milk, but lias the natural flavor of the cream. It gives to coffee a very rich color, and If it is entirely free from adulteration, we believe that it is destined to achieve success. The only good that can possibly result from the practice of stripping, is tiie check it forms upon the carlessness of milkers, where a number are employed, and there are those of them that are inclined to slight their work. It is much bettor to milk the cows in a large herd thoroughly, and to finish the job at one
sitting, but if stripping must be resorted to, it should be continued, or an actual lessening of the milk yield—as well as probable injuries to the milking properties of the cow—will inevitably follow. Every unnecessary step on a farm in doing tiie chores is just so much abstracted from tho time and strength needed to do them. It is but common wisdom then to plan a proper contiguity of stables, pens, cribs, granaries and water works, and tiie shortest route from one to tiie other. On old farms tins plan can be carried out only as new buildings are required, but make your plan now and work to it as new buildings take the place of old ones or are built to meet the the demand of increased stock. — Farm, FicUl. mid Stockman.
THE OKU HARD. Treatment lor Cureullo. The experiments ot the Ohio Agricultural Station with curculio tiie past season iAgiven in a newspaper bulletin sent out by the station authorities. An orchard of IKK) bearing trees in Ottawa County, Ohio, right in the heart of a great fruit-growing region, was selected for the experiment. In the north half of it the method of catching the curculios by jarring on a sort of inverted umbrella mounted on wheels was employed, while the south half was sprayed four times with pure parts green mixed with water, Iu tho proportion of four ounces to fifty gallons of water. The first application was made May 8 just after the blossoms had fallen from tho blooming varieties. There was a heavy rain tiie same night and it rained almost continuously until May 15, when there was a short cessation. The second spraying was done ou tiiat day. The third spraying was made on May 20, and the fourth and last, June 2. On the jarred portion of the orchard a great many curculios were caught, showing that they were present in numbers. A careful examination of both parts of the orchard was made on June 3. Between one and two per cent, of the fruit on the sprayed trees had been stung, while about three per cent, of the plums on tiie jarred trees were injured. No damage to the trees was then perceptible. Early in July the orchard was again examined. Some of the sprayed trees showed that the foliage had been damaged by the spraying, but the injury was not very serious. Not over three per cent, of sprayed fruit was stung at that time, while about four per cent, of that on the jarred trees was injured. But on both the fruit was so thick tiiat, artificial thinning was necessary to prevent overbearing. A large crop of fruit was ripened on both parts of the orchard, and so far as eould be judged from tho experiment, the practicability of preventing the injuries of the plum curculio by spraying was demonstrated. This process is very much less laborious and costly than jarring, and If future experience is as successful as this season’s work, plumgrowing will become much easier.— Farm, Field and Stockman.
THE APIAHY.: Foul Brood.! The plan I used on the most, of my hives for cleasing them, when I had foul brood during tiie seventies, says G. M. Doolittle, in Gleanings, was to scald tho hive by plunging it all over in boiling water, in a large kettle which was used on the farm for cooking food for tho hogs, heating water for the butchering, etc. The hives were put in first ami scalded, and afterwards the frames of combs, thus scalding the frames and making the combs into wax at the same time; for as I made all of iny frames by hand, then, I thought I must save them. However in these days of machinery I do not think that it would pay to bother witli the frames, for this scalding process makes them untrue and in poor shape for use again so that the new frames are muelrtWe cheaper in the long run. Later on, arbee-kcepor living several miles away called me to ills apiary to see if he had foul brood. V found it in several of his hives, and told him how to treat it. After he had cured it ho scalded tho hives by pouring water from a boiling tea-kettle on to tiie inside of the infected hives, and no foul brood was the result afterwards. If you are sure that, the hot water lilts every nock and corner of the hive, I do not know why this plan would not answer where nothing holding boiling water is at hand large enough to put the whole hive in. The lirst would be safest, however. Nome claim tiiat the hives do not need scalding or doing anything else with them if they are allowed to stand outdoors exposed to the weather through one winter. They say they believe the freezing and thawing of one winter is amply sufficient to destroy all the spores or germs of foul-brood about any hive. ] should be inclined to go slow on this, trying only one or two till I had proved for myself tiiat there was no danger from such hives.
THE HOt'SEIIOU). Successful Moving. As a preliminary to successful and comfortable moving, let the housekeeper make out a list of articles that must go, those which shall go first, and decide on the things suitable to put in the same load. Have your packing boxes well aired and set in a convenient place, so that every article can be packed as soon as prepared. This arrangement saves all unnecessary handling. Small packing cases are better than large, as they are more safely and easily handled. Old newspapers are excellent for lining these boxes, and also for placing between the j various articles. Hooks must be packed closely, with edges down, and it saves space to make each row as uniform as possible. Place the largest and heaviest books in the bottom, and the lighter ones on top, with plenty of paper or old rags between. In packing china, glass and bric-a-brac, It Is well to use excelsior, hay or paper. Use the strongest boxes, and line the bottom with a thick layer of your packing material. Pitchers, bowls and all sorts of deep dishes should be stuffed with its and no two pieces should ever touch each other. Fine ware should be first wrapped in tissue paper and soft crumpled newspapers. In moving a short disiance, one may use the wash-tubs and clothes-baskets for packing the china and glass, and have them carried by hand. Hut, if going far, ft is a good plan to use the summer clothing, the cotton underwear, and other soft bits, for packing and wrapping. Pictures must be wrapped in canvas if going far,, in paper if but a short distance, and packed standing oil end. Valuable pictures must have a separate wooden case. In packing furniture, such as sofas, chairs, tables, etc., the legs, arms and
other projections must be well protected, and the wrappings fastened with twine. Carpets and curtains must be cleaned before folding. All such little indispensable trifles as picture hooks, curtin fixtures, screws, etc., must be placed in a stout bag and tied up. marked on tiie outside, and laid by for use when wanted. Wrap your bedding pillows, and similar articles in old sheets, so that they will keep fresh and clean. Old barrels are useful! in packing kitchen utensils, and ail sorts of provisions that, you cannot dispose of before moving should be emptied into tho cans and buckets that are thus stored away. But a careful manager will so plan as to have little in the line of groceries to move. Have a full supply of food, bread, meat, etc., all cooked beforehand, so tiiat* the first meal in the new house can be prepared with but little trouble. It is usually some time before one is ready to do much iu that line of work. Do not make the great mistake of starving your family and yourself on “moving-days.” Give them your best jam, and your sugar-cured ham, and your dainty home-made cookies and beaten biscuit, tiiat, are good when a week old. Then tiie children will enjoy the frolic, and fancy that they are having a continuous picnic. If you can only take thingscalmjy and exercise all your tact, good sense and good nature, you will come out of the ordeal proud of yourself and admired by your family for having accomplished that difficult feat, a successful moving.— Peterson V. Hint* to Hoii*eke«p«rit. After greasing your cake tins, sift some flour into them, and your cake will not stick. Always serve oysters in hot dishes. Cook the oysters only Until they curl, if cooked too long they are indigestible. Equal parts of ammonia and turpentine will take paint out of clothing, even if it be hard and dry. Saturate the spot as often as necessary, and wash out in soapsuds. Steel pens are destroyed bv the acid in the ink. if an old nail or old steel yen is put in tiie ink, tiie acid therein will exhaust Itself on thorn, and pens in dally use will remain in good condition much longer. Lamp-huknkhh, to give good light, should be cleaned at, least once a month. To clean them, take a piece of soda the size of a walnut, put it into a quart of soft water, place the lamp-burner iu it, an old tomato can is good enough, uiul sot it on tho stove; after boiling lor live minutes, remove the burner, and when put back on tho lamp, It will bo as good as new. Almost all kinds of vegetables should bo put Into boiling water when put on to cook. In getting up a good vegetable dinner, the best way is to clean a few beats, and put them on to boll about half-past nine in the morning; at half-past ten add a piece of salt meat and a quart of shelled beans; cook slowly, in just water enough to keep from burning, until quarter past eleven, thou add summer squashes; cook slowly, in just water enough to keep from burning, until done. Cook tho potatoes separately, also the sweet corn. The corn should be put in boiling water to cook steadily for fifteen minutes.
THU KITCHKN. I.yonnalKo Potutooi. Cut some cold boiled iiotatoes into small square blocks; shred half an onion finolyjdrop potatoes and onion Into boiling lard and fry a light brown; drain on paper and serve In a very hot dish. Dust with powdered parsley before ingPotato Scallop*. 801 l some potatoes, slice thorn fine* and heat as above; put them into scallopshells which have been previously buttered and dusted with bread crumbs; till the scallop shells only half full of potato; tin'll add some egg and cream beaten up together; sprinkle the top with bread crumbs and bake In a quick oven. Salmon Strip*. Soak half a pound of salt, smoked salmon one hour In cold water, then boll gently twenty minutes. Drain, lay in very cold water for ten minutes, wipe dry, and with a sharp knife cut Into strips about as long as your middle finger and half an inch wide, iiave.some butter in a frying-pan; roll each strip of fish in flour, and fry to a flue brown. Serve hot and dry, piled up like sticks, on a heated plate. Potatoes with Ham. 801 l some potatoes, slice them quite thin, put them In a pan with a goodsized piece of butter, and let tbepi heat thoroughly, but not fry; boll four eggs very hard and eliop them line; and chop fine about as much cold boiled hum as there is of potato; put into a dish in layers, with a little salt, parsley and chopped onion on each layer; pour over the whole four lurge cupfuls of cream, cover the top with bread crumbs, dot the bread erumbs with small bits of butter, and bake a light brown. Creamed Muckcrol. Wash a small salt mackerel, and soak It all night in eold water. To prepare it for breakfast, wipe it well to get off the salt crystals that may be lodged in the creases, put into a broad pan of boiling water, and cook steadily half an hour. Drain when done, and transfer to a hot dish. Pour over it a'sauce made by stirring into a cupful of boiling water a heaping teaspoonful of cornstarch, two tcaspoonfuls of butter, one of vinegar, and a little pepper. Instead of the vinegar you can put in a teaspoonful of green pickle, minced line. Stir over the (ire until smooth and as thick as custard, when add minced parsley. Pour upon your fish, cover, and let it stand five minutes in a warm place before it goes to table. Fried Flwh. Clean carefully, washing out the inside of perch, smelt or other pan-fish,and wiping perfectly dry. Have ready a little dry, salted flour, and coat each fish well with this, llcat lard very hot in frying-pan, and lay in the fish carefully, not so many at once that you cannot turn them with ease. This you should do so soon as tho under side is nicely browned, and when both are of a yellow brown take the fish out of the grease. If small, transfer them to a hot colander, to rid them of every drop of fat. Send to table in a hot dish. When eggs arc plenty you can make a really elegant dish of small pan-fish by dipping them in pouuded. cracker or bread crumbs, before frying. In any case serve your fish ify—not crisp—neither soaked in grease por slowly converted into eiudery chips.
