Democratic Sentinel, Volume 15, Number 5, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 February 1891 — Page 5

THB MELANCHOLY POET. BY MRS. NAPOLEON B. MORANOE. J Sis path is sunshine; so he sings. Of darkened ways and ruins old; -His memory, tenacious, clings To that worn theme, the graveyard mold. ’He tells in rhyme of fiery darts. Of hidden tortures, fierce and slow! ’He has a “trust” in broken hearts And bears about a weight of woe. His ghosts will not be laid to rest; The fates pursue him but to Scourge; And his most lively strain at best, *. Is solemn as a funeral dirge. That flowers from the mold may spring, Night be succeeded by to-morrow, Cannot inspire him to sing; His lyre is tuned to breathe of sorrow. sew York City.

Dr. Elfenstein's Mission

fi‘ Remarkable Romance.

BY EMILY THORNTON.

(Chapter xxiv. SIR REGINALD’S DEATH. A few weeks passed on without bringing to Ethel the slightest occasion for a regretful sigh that she had changed her home and occupation; and whenever she paused to reflect upon the disagreeable dfities required of her by Sir Reginald, the more -she shuddered at the bare remembrance. But, while filled with indignation at the brutal manner in which he had received the communication of the accident that had so strangely befallen her, and the abruptness of her dismissal, she longed to know whether he had recovered from the effects of his ungovernable rage, and also whether the missing animal had been found and restored. Of course she dared question no one about it, and her only resource was to the village daily paper, which she read with eagerness, but no reference was ever made to the subject. Occasionally, Dr. Elfenstein called to see Lady -Claire, but the bare inquiry after the baronet’s condition was all she felt at liberty to make. The reply ever was that Sir Reginald’s nervous system was in such a terrible state that it was impossible for him to improve as yet. The manner of the Doctor toward herself she thought constrained and reserved, and this gave her intense pain. She feared that he did not approve of her course, and imagined, fiom his quiet appearance, that her refusal to acquaint him with the nature of her fault might cause him to magnify the error into a positive crime. Little did the poor girl know that his coldness was assumed, merely, to hide the real state of his affections, in order to attend to the sacred duty which he had undertaken. That duty he had by no means forgotten. He had looked up, after many difficulties, papers of a remote date that had published the entire trial of .Fitzroy Gtendenning, and had noted the fact that the valet, Antoine Duval, had testified against him by relating his unfortunate words, spoken in a moment of intense excitement. The thought had then occurred to him that this Antoine might be implicated in the deed -of darkness that had so immediately followed. Lately, his whole spare time had been occupied in trying to trace out the movements and whereabouts of this man. For some time all that he could discover was that he had remained in Sir Reginald’s employment about a year after the murder, and then had suddenly left the place and departed to some region unknown. One day he accidentally entsred the village postoffice just as the postmaster was saying to an old man who stood near: “I wonder who Pierre Duval can be? I have a letter for him. There was a man named Antoine Duval living at the Hall once; do you know what became of him and whether he had a son Pierre?” “He had no son, as he never married. Antoine is dead. He was killed by some unknown assassin in France, where he went alter leaving Sir Reginald." "Are you sure?” “Perfectly. He did not live six months after leaving here.” “And his murderer .escaped?” “Yes, leaving no clew to his identity behind him- Detectives did all they could to ferret out the mystery; but, like Sir Arthur’s fate, I suppose, it will never be solved." The conversation here ceased, but Dr. Elfenstein had now learned a fact that he so long had wished settled. It was impossible to gain information through this DuvaL He was dead, and all hope in that direction was at an end. Entering, therefore, his gig, he drove to the Hall. He found Sir Reginald still restless and excited, and after leaving some new remedies with Mrs. Fredon, ho badc him “good afternoon,” and was hastening from the house, when Miss Belle Glendenning called his name as he held the front door open, and leaving it ajar, he stepped into the boudoir to speak to her. “Dr. Elfenstein,” she said very sweetly, raising her eyes to his, as he approached, “please excuse me for detaining you, but I desired so much to know what you think of my uncle, that I could not allow you to pass without inquiring. ” “I wish I could say he was improving,, but really he seems so nervous that he can scarcely gain in strength!” This was what the designing girl wished. This remark gave her the opportunity long sought, tQ say some disparaging thing of one she feared he might admire, and she hastened to seize the chance. “What a misfortune it was that such an unprincipled and exasperating girl ever entered this house!” “What girl?” asked the Doctor, suspecting at once to whom she alluded, and rather anxious to draw her out. “You surely do not mean Miss Nevbrgail?” “I surely do! She certainly must have been the cause of his relapse, as she was the only person with him, and has never been seen since ” “But Sir Reginald told me he ordered her from the house. ” “I know he did. But any one can see ■ she must have given him great provo-

cation. Do you know where she is, Doctor?" “I have an impression that she is teachin g. She—-** Whatever Dr. Elfenstein intended to add to this sentence was never uttered, as an interruption came in the form of a quick, sharp cry for help, coming from Sir Reginald’s room on the floor above, followed by the excited voice of the nurse calling him by name. Bounding up the steps, two at a time, went the Doctor, followed closely bv Belle. As the physician entered the room he glanced toward the bed, and was horrified to see the baronet lying in a fit, while Lady Constance, who had entered at the first call, stood screaming by his side, and the almost equally alarmed nurse was rubbing and chaffing his poor hands. Goipg instantly to his side, the Doctor commenced doing all he could for his recovery, but, he saw at once that the case \was apoplectic, and that he would never revive. “How did this happen? How was he taken? I saw no symptoms of this a few moments since. ” “I was sitting by his side reading,” replied Mrs. Fredon, “when the strangest thing happened I ever knew. The door from the hall opened and a singularlooking man entered, and going to the foot of Sir Reginald’s bed, stood there, with his eyes fixed upon those of the baronet before him, without speaking one word. “Sir Reginald started up at the sight of the stranger, in the greatest terror, and, raising one hand as if to push him off, exclaimed: “ ‘Great God! Mercy! mercy!’ then fell back on the pillow in the condition you now see him. ” “Where is the man?” “Seeing what had been the effect of his sudden appearance, he turned at once and fled from the room. ” “Can you describe him?” asked the Doctor. “Yes; he was tall and slender, his hair and beard were white, and very long.” “Had he anything in his hands?” “In one a black leather wallet, in the other a book and some papers. ” “It must have been old Stiles, the book-seller. I remember now, he was just going out of the front door as I heard you call, and ran up. I had left the door partly open, it being warm, to speak to Miss Belle in the boudoir, and he must have glided in unperceived, eager for a chance to get subscribers for his book. Seeing so sick a person, and the effect.his unannounced presence had wrought, I suppose, caused his hurried flight from the house. In Sir Reginald’s nervous condition the surprise of seeing so singular-looking a person by his bedside proved more than he could endure, and this has been the result. ” The conversation now ceased, as every effort was required in order to bring the baronet back to consciousness. For fully an hour Dr. Elfenstein and Mrs. Fredon worked over that senseless form, but all was of no avail, for just as the sun dropped behind the western hills, the spirit of Sir Reginald Glendenning passed back to his God. Great indignation was expressed throughout the neighborhood when his sudden death and its cause became known. The eccentricities of Rev. Edwin C. Stiles had taken a very offensive form, and it was decided that some person should be appointed to inform him that he never again must take the liberty Of walking into a house until duly announced. The person appointed to attend to this matter was Rev. Mr. Lee, who, being a brother minister, could, it was thought; approach him in the most serious and effective manner. So Mr. Lee kept upon the watch for his appearance; but, strive though he might to find him, “Old Stiles” was nowhere to be seen, and at the end of ten days had not again entered the village. In the meantime the funeral of Sir Reginald took place. The greatest display that wealth and influence could exert was in full force. The departed baronet had never been loved. His morose, ugly disposition had been exercised toward all to such an extent that much sorrow was not felt at his loss; nevertheless, he was a titled man, and his possessions were great; therefore, every mark of attention was bestowed upon his family, and he was laid to rest in all the pomp and grandeur that was usually bestowed upon the funerals of persons of his rank.

CHAPTER XXV. THE CAVE. About three days after the burial of the baronet, Ethel Neyergail, with Lady Clare Linwood, accompanied by a groom, started out for their usual horseback ride, as this exercise Dr. Elfenstein considered essential to the health of his young patient The two being always together and congenial in spirit, they enjoyed the hours thus spent exceedingly. Both were skillful horsewomen and both were extravagantly fond of the saddle. Most of the scenery around shire was romantic and full of beauty, and they explored its many retreats with happy hearts, awake to each new and varied charm that nature opened so prodigally before them. This morning they had resolved to follow a wild-looking path, leading through a deep wood, one they had never noticed, in rides past the spot, until thedav before. Laughing and chatting gayly, they pushed through a narrow path, half overgrown with weeds and brambles, piercing deeper and deeper into what seemed the densest woodland shade. “Have you any idea, Roger,” asked Lady Claire, at last, of the attending groom, who kept a short and respectful distance in the rear, “where this narrow path will take us?” “I have not, my lady. I am sure I never noticed it before, and should not now, ’ad you not first discovered it Perhaps, as it is so rough and overgrown, you ’ad better turn back.” “After awhile, Roger! As long as we can get through, I shall like to go on, in order to gratify my awakened curiosity. ” Suddenly, after an advance offhbout half a mile, both girls noticed at once that footsteps had diverged from the beaten path, and looking towards the point to which they seemed directed, they were astonished to see the opening entrance, to what seemed a large cave, overhung with vines of thick luxuriance. These vines seemed lately to parted, revealing, as I have said, a passage into a roomy cave. Reining up their horses, they paused before the spot, in order to survey it more closely, when all distinctly heard low moans of pain, issuing from a point near the entrance. • Surmising at once that some fellowbeing was in distress, Ethel requested Roger to dismount and investigate the place, and immediately return to re-

port the cause of the apparent suffering within. The man dismounted as requested, and disappeared from view, only to return with the news that the eccentric book-seller. Rev. Edwin C. Stfles, was very ill in that remote and hidden spot. Bidding Roger assist her to the ground, Ethel at once hastened to the side of the sick man. She found him stretched upon an old cot bed in this damp and gloomy retreat, far away from the haunts of men. Oh glancing rapidly around, she noticed a few articles of furniture and a few utensils for daily use, but saw no trace of fire or food. On this rude bed, then, lay stretched the form of the eccentric being who had been so much talked of during the past few days. His cheeks were flushed with fever, while the weary movements of his head told of intense pain in that region. Cia«ped in his thin, white hands upon his breast lay the mysterious wallet. Seeing at once that the poor creature was very low, perhaps near death, Ethol stepped back to the entrance of the cave, and requested Roger to ride with all speed to summon Dr. Elfenstein to his side. She also requested Lady Claire to remain within call, while she herself would watch over the sufferer until aid should come. •“I think, Roger, you should also acquaint Dr. Elfenstein with the fact that this is no place for so sick a person, and advise with him as to his removal. If removed, it should be done at once, and he may suggest the mode, as well as the place, that can receive him.” Thus charged, Roger tied Ethel’s horse securely, and then rode rapidly away. At once Ethel returned to her selfassumed charge, and endeavored to arouse him from the stupor he was in, in order to ask of his relatives and home. But the effort Was in vain. Alow, incoherent muttering, in which the words “brother”and “saveme,” were mingled, was all she could hear. It seemed a long and weary while to the anxious girls, oefore voices were heard in the distance, announcing the return of Roger, with the physician and others who came to the help of the afflicted and unknown man; but it was really a very speedy arriva'. Dr. Elfenstein was the first to enter the cheerless place, while two men besides Roger followed, ready to bear the sufferer in the’r arms to a wagon quite a distance down the road, beyond the narrow pathway the girls had pushed over on the backs of their gentle horses. The Doctor paused a moment to examine the patleut, but looked very grave as he did so, and whispered to Ethel: “I think we are too late to save him. He will live but a few hours, as death is even now upon him. He must be removed, however, at once, and as I know of no other place, I shall take him to my own house. Strange that he should have lived here alone sb long, as this cave seems to have been inhabited quite a while. ” Taking the wallet in his hand to draw it away, he found it impossible to do so, as the death clutch of the dying fingers upon it was tight and still strong; so, leaving it where it was bn his breast, the Doctor summoned the men, who gently raised the slight form in their arms and boro him forth, followed by the physician and the two girls. Pausing in -haste to assist them to their seats in the saddles, Earle murmured a few polite words to each relative to the case, then hurried after the sad little procession, while the ladies slowly brought up the rear. Soon the poor man was lying on blankets and a soft pillow upon the floor of an easy wagon, while the Doctor sat by his side, carefully fanning away the flies that might annoy, and thus they wended their way back to their homes. A few hours later, in the comfortable guest chamber at the young physician’s home, the poor wayfarer breathed his last, and as the sympathizing physician closed his eyes and straightened his form he drew away the wallet carefully and folded the poor, thin hands upon his breast. Leaving him then in the bold sleep of death, he left the room in order to send for an undertaker to perform' the last offices upon the emaciated corpse. After dispatching a messenger he summoned Mrs. Clum as a witness, and passed to his private office in order to examine the mysterious wallet, that should, he hoped, reveal the secret of the wanderer’s family and home. [to be continued. ]

Judge Wisely.

Don’t judge a man by his clothes. God made one and the tailor the other. Don’t judge him by his relations, foi Cain belonged to a good family. Don’t judge a man by his speech, for a parrot talks, but the tongue is but an instrument of sound. Don’t judge a man by his failure in life, for many a man fails because he is too honest to succeed. Don’t judge a man by the house he lives in, for the lizard and the rat often inhabit the grandest structures. When a man dies, they who survive him ask what property he has left behind. The angel who bends over the dying man asks what good deeds he has seht before him.

Was Competent.

At a recent examination of a young man who applied for a certificate admitting him to the active field of education, the examiner asked: “What is a compound fraction ?” The man replied: “A compound fraction is a fraction of a fraction and partakes of the nature of the verb and adjective.” “That’s a new way of answering the question,” said the examiner, “but I reckon you are right.”— Arkansaw Traveler.

In Spite of Them.

In a publisher’s office: Visitor (to publisher)—This novel was very successful, wasn’t it ? Publisher—Yes, and in spite of the newspapers. Visitor—Did they condemn it? Publisher—Oh, no, they praised it ? —Arkansaw Traveler. Conscience is doubtless sufficient to conduct the coldest character into the road of virtue; but enthusiasm is to conscience what honor is to duty; there is in us a superfluity of soul, which it is sweet to consecrate to the beautiful when the good has been accomplished. —Madame de Staci. At Montichiari batteries of artillery using smokeless powder kept un a fire for half an hour without their positions being discovered.

AGRICULTURAL TOPICS.

A FEW SUGGESTIONS FOR OUR RURAL READERS. A Lot of Vau»bl« Information for the Farmer, the Housewife, the Ranchman, the Poulterer, and the KltchoniuaiiL THE FARM. Keep Them Sharp

heard. One sees the effect very quickly of a dull moWer on the team.and hastens to the stone to sharpen it. The pul) is so much harder and the work goes on so much slower when the plow is dull, that no one would think of compelling a team to pull on it. The work Is so much more easily done in these cases that no one would for a moment think of letting tools grow dull. Yet some tools on a farm are never sharpened by a majority of farmers. How many farmers do you know who keep the hoe, the shovel, and the spade sharp? If the edge of these is not as thick as the thickness of a plate will allow, and made harder to enter the ground by having the edge turned up a little it is in most cases because the tool has not been used long enough to get the first edge off. All this is folly. There is no sense in wasting strength, no matter how much of it we possess, and there is no easier way to save strength than to spend a little of it in sharpening the farm tools. Use a dull hoe for a few minutes and then sharpen it and see how much more easily it works, and then resolve at once to keep it sharp and bright. Beside these one other tool on the farm is In the large majority of the cases “dull as a hoe.” How many cultivators have you seen that are sharp, not only on account of the greater ease to the horses, but because the work done is so much better. And so of every tool on the farm. Save the men, save the horses, and do good work easily by keeping them sharp, A dull implement is a sign of a dull brain. Keep them sharp. THE HOUSEHOLD, Pretty and Practical. Seme convenient place to put the odds and ends that will collect where work and play is going,on during the day is a great saving of steps to the busy housemother. A dainty, ribbon-trimmed basket is hardly suitable for the apple-core little Bess Is so anxious to dispose of, or the damp pasty papers left from Ned’s kite. The scrap-jar shown in the illustration is both ornamental and decidedly practical. A common four-gallon jar—one without handles if possible—is se-

SCRAP JAR.

lected and fitted with a round wooden cover. Several thicknesses of soft old newspaper is wrapped around the jar. The jar and lid are then covered smoothly with red felt. A strip of brown felt four inches wide, on which is embroidered a vine, is fastened around the jar near the center. The joining of this band is concealed by a bow of red and brown ribbons, the ends of which arc carried up over the e:lge and fastened inside the jar. If desired, a similar bow can be placed on the cover. This scrap jar should have the contents removed every morning, and all dust wiped out with a damp cloth.— Margaret Ryder, in Country Gentleman.

THE STOCK-RANCH. Stagger*. Staggers are the result of congestion of the .brain, due to overfeeding. Pigs are more often overfed than any other animal, and it is the source of nearly all the diseases to which they are subject. It affects the nerve centers in the brain and spinal cord. Give the pigs no feed at all for forty-eight hours, but only water; then begin feeding very lightly, and give the food in a shallow trough, so that it can be taken up only slowly. Sore Feet. Cattle are frequently troubled with sore feet from standing in filthy stables or miiddy yards. To prevent it keep the stable floor and yards dry and clean. Ib cure the feet wash them with Warm water and carbolic soap. Break all blisters and scabs and get a clean surface. Then apply carbolated vaseline or cosmoline mixed with enough acetate of copper (verdigris) to make the ointment green. Bandage the feet, passing a part of it through the deft. Keep the feet dry. Oats for Young Animal*. No kind of grain is so well adapted to feeding young stock of any kind as oats. Their li”-ge proportion of husk keeps them f.Wn cloying the stomach, even of stock that has too poor digestion for thriving on corn. Pigs will prefer the latter grain, if both are given together, but the pig is not the best judge of what is adapted to his needs. The oats should, however, be at least full weight to give the best results. Much of the Western oat erop is generally light, from ripening in dry, hot weather. The standard weight of oats in some Western States Is thirty pounds per bushel, and in others

as low as twenty-eight pounds. The usual Extern standard for oats is thirtytwo pounds per bushel. Live Stock Notes. A quiet, gentle horse is best for the farm. In feeding dairy cows it is possible to over-feed, and fully as bad as to feed too little. Good carriage horses are always in demand and bring good prices in any market. To prevent cows from kicking, buckle a strap around both hind legs just above the knees. f Many farmers fall to derive the benefit they should from sheep because of improper feeding. If colts were handled very young, much ot the difficulty iu breaking would be done away with. A good rule in mixed farming is to keep sufficient stock to consume all the products of the farm. In producing beef, milk or butter, it is very important to have plenty of grass for summer feed and good meadows for winter hay. Animals with vicious habits or tendencies should never be used for breeding purposes, as they transmit to their offspring their bad qualities. The noticeable improvements in farm stock is due, not only to the good care and keeping, but also to careful selection and matings of breeding animals. For some reasons sheep arc preferable to hogs in the orchard, but a prominent objection is that they sometimes acquire the habit of gnawing the trees. With proper provision of warmth and shelter, and a good store of ensilage and hay, winter dairying can frequently be made more profitable than summer; labor is then cheaper and butter higher. It is often a loss to allow cows to range over a large space of short pasture to satisfy their appetites, and would bo an actual saving to keep them up and feed them when pastures get too short. A correspondent describes the ideal farm horse, as one of good size, well gaited, and able to walk three and a half to four miles, or trot about eight miles, per hour; of gentle disposition and yet sufficient life to do his work without urging, and possessing intelligence tor training to the various uses required. THE DAIRY Finn Point* In Butter-Making. A correspondent of the Ohio Farmer offers some points on the subject of making butter of the finest quality: Is flavor in butter a natural or an artificial result? The early dairy writers credit flavor to the presence of butyrine oil, always present In butter, but lately it has come to be more largely thought by scientists that it is caused by the aromatic oils of vegetation. This may be illustrated by feeding one cow on oatmeal, fine hay, etc., and another cow on poor hay, onions, cabbages, and other vegetables that have distinct volatile oils, not digestible. (Some foods may not show in the milk, for the reason that they possess no indigestible matter, or distinct flavor.) The flavor of our best pasture grasses goes into circulation, and their presence is of groat value, and we therefore put May and June grass butter at the front for fine flavor. In winter we need hay cut in blossom, for then the grass flavors are most abundant and the curing of the hay only partially destroys them. The natural flavor of butter is one thing, and the demands of many customers arc another. Sour, sweet, ripe, or bitter cream; salt, . sugar, and all other influences are artificial, and are made more or less prominent by the skill of the butter-maker. Now and then wo find a person who likes the salt and buttermilk flavor. Many assert that ripening cream by bringing it in contact with the air is not a different kind of acidity; but they are as different for a time, as tho acid of .chese cured soured In whey, and tho same curd dipped sweet, and allowed to take acidity in warm air. The great authority on dairying says that “ripening cream fast moulds flavor, while the slower lactic acid souring of cream is not only detrimental, but is the beginning of decay.” It is a grqat wonder to many why centrifuge butter well made keeps so well. I don’t know, but if any one will examine the coating of a machine after it has “thrown out” a few thousand pounds of milk and notice the offensive slime there deposited, the matter may in part be explained in theory. This “sineary substance” must remain in the cream in ordinary processes of making, and must lend its influence to the Jbutter. Water is a solvent of it. and washing butter helps remove it. 1 hazard a guess that “ropy” milk may possibly be caused by a superabundance of this offensive substance. “Tainted milk” is also in dispute and the causes for it. It may be defective food, foul water, a feverish or diseased condition of the cow, or a contamination of all these, and things not dreamed of as yet in our philosophy. I notice some experiments made at the East about this avicosity, or “stfoklness,” Inßnilk. Cream that was bard to “come,” when thinned with water, several times its bulk, and thoroughly mixed and allowed to rise again, when skimmed and churned, cankp readily. Some of our own scientists now “think” they can fortell the quantity and keeping value of butter by determining the vieosity of the milk; the less there is the better the butter; but they do not tell the ordinary butter maker how to find this out. All butter makers can wash the buttermilk with weak brine. This will remove one great cause of rancidity in butter—putrefying buttermilk.

HE easiest way to work hard on a farm, if such an expression is allowable Is to let the tools, grow dull, says S. O. G. in the Western Farmer. In the olden time when grass was cut with a scythe and grain with a cradle, the whetstone was carried to the field and kept where it could be constantly used, and the ringing of the stone oh the steel was continu ally

THE PULETKY-YAKO. Cro**-Bred Fowl*. Mr. G. M. T. Johnson, very properly believes that crossing breeds is often beneficial as adding size and vitality to' the progency, where only results in eggs and meat are desired, and in Practical Poultry Keeper says: A fowl is often called for with the size of the Light Brahmas, and laying qualities of the White Leghorns. A cross between these breeds will produce a white fowl not quite so large as the Brahmas, and more like the Leghorns for laying. A Black Spanish cock with White Leghorn hens will produce an excellent laying fowl. The cockerels from this cross will be marked solid white, with flesh-colored legs. The pullets will be white, with now and then a black feather; the legs blue. A cross between Plymouth Boek and White Leghorn produces a salty blue fowl. Cockerels have flesh-colored legs; pullets have blue legs. They somewhat resemble the Andalusian fowls. I do

not consider them equal to either the Plymouth Rocks or White Leghorns. A cross of Plymouth Rock and Partridge Cochin very much resembles the Plymouth Rock. It has bright yellow legs; some chicks have clean legs, and some feathered logs; a good-sized fowL A Rrown Leghorn and Silver Spangled Hamburg show color of the Hamburg. It much resembles the Golden Spangled Hamburg, An excellent variety for eggs, and more hardy than the Hamburgs, pure. These are crosses which have come under my own eye. It is interesting to see how the blood of one fowl will manifest itself in one way, and the blood of another in quite a different way. When two markings or characteristics clash, the weaker must give way to the stronger, unless they are about equally .strong. The Dorking varities crossed with others, never forget to put on the fifth toe, showing that is a characteristic from many generations back. Ih the cross between the Black Spanish and White Leghorn, I was surprised io see how the black feathering had to aiye way to the white, but tho Spanish held on to the blue legs—never a yellow leg. In bringing new blood into any yard, the chicks want to be watched carefully, to see in what way the particular cross manifests itself. If to the detriment of the parent stock, it will not pay to let it go anv further.

THE KITCHEN Doughnata. Two cups of sugar, four cups of butter milk, four tablespoonfuls of thick, sour cream, two teaspoonfuls of soda, and flour to roll. Feather Cake. One egg, one cup of sugar, one tablespoonful of butter, one-half cup of milk, one and one-half cups of flour, one teaspoonful of cream of tartar and one-half teaspoonful of soda. * Turnip Pastry. 801 l thoroughly one-half dozen turnips, inash them up, adding a teaspoon ful of cream and seasoning ’With salt and pepper. Put paste around this mixture, like a dumpling^and bake or steam. Cocoanut Cakes. Scarcely half a pound of loaf sugar to a large cocoanut grated; put into a preserving pan till the sugar melts. Form into cakes; put on white paper. They should bo well baked In'a very cool oven, and when cooked ought to bo very pure white. Cream Cake. One cup of sugar, one-half cup of butter, three-fourths cup of milk, two' eggs, beaten separately, one and one-half cups of flour, one and three-quarter teaspoonfuls of baking powder. Bako In throe layers. Cream for filling: One-half pint of milk, one teaspoonful of corn starch, one egg, one teaspoonful of vanilla, sweeten to taste. Heat milk to sealing, in which cook the corn starch stirred smooth in a little cold milk, add the eggs last, flavor and spread when cold. J ally Trine. Cut up Into inch cubes enough sponge cake to make layers on tho bottom of a shallow dish. Soak one-half package gelatine one-half hour in one-half pint cold water, then add one-half pint of boiling water and stir until dissolved. Add onehalf pint sherry or other good wine, sweeten to taste and flavor to suit. When It "begins to thicken, pour It over the cake, and sot In refrigerator to harden. Serve with nutmeg and with cream sauce. Rhode island Johnny Cake. Put one pint of white table meal Into a bowl, and add gradually one pint boiling water. The meal must be moist, without being wet. While tho meal is warm, add two ounces butter, one tablespoonful sugar, one teaspoonfu) of salt. Now add one pint of cold milk, the yolks of three eggs, well-beaten. Stir In onehalf pint flour, and then the well-beaten whites, with one heaping teaspoonful of baking powder. When thoroughly mixed, bake at once on hot griddie. Ribbon Cake. One-half cup butter, one cup of milk or water, two of sugar, three of flour, three eggs, one tcaspoonful cream tartar. one-half of soda; beat well. Take one-third of the mixture and one-half cup flour, one egg, one large spoon of butter; beat well, then add one cup raisins, stoned and chopped, one cup currants, one-half nutmeg, one teaspoonful cinnamon, one-half teaspoonful mace, and spice to taste. Put the dark in the middle; bake in jelly cake tins. If desired soft frosting may be used between layers, or jelly, just as you prefer. This Is not an expensive cake and will be found very good.

Articulation.

Those who have mastered Peter Piper and his “pickled peppers” may now try twisting their tongues around the following sentences, ten minutes’ drill on which, an exchange announces “wilt greatly improve the articulation of every one Let lovely lilacs line Lee’s lonely lane. He drew long, legible lines along the lovely landscape. The old, cold, scold sold a school coal-scuttle. Did you ever see a saw. saw like that saw sawed? Eight great, gray geese gazing gaily into Greece. Round the rough and rugged rooks the ragged ra«cal ran. Some shun sunshine; do yofi shun sunshine? She uttered a sharji, shrill shriek, and then sank from the shrivelled form that slumbered in the shroud.

Courtship.

Hearts cannot always be taken by storm. Wooing may be too precipitate and hasty, as well as too slow. A man who offers himself to a woman before he has made sure of her affections is very liable to receive **tio” for an answer, when, with a little delay and assiduity combined, he might have made it “yes.” There is an instinctive pride in woman which makes her rebel against the idea of being too quick and too easily won. She naturally thinks he must hold her love cheap who supposes it may be had by a comparative stranger for the mere asking. Even iu the case of mutual love at first sight, she does not willingly forego the pleasures of the delightful period of courtship. The wild bird wooes hi. mate with long and mellifluous song, and woman feels it her right to exact homage before marriage. - a-.* The blind man may be something of a seer.