Pike County Democrat, Volume 26, Number 14, Petersburg, Pike County, 16 August 1895 — Page 3

K. MoO. ST00P8, Editor sad Proprietor. •PETERSBURG. - - INDIANA. . ELEANOR’S ROMANCE. •BY MAUD B1TTEXHOUSE. Harlowe Graham,crushing that white ‘sheet beneath a heavy hand, rose from 'his chair with an ejaculation that made the very pens in their tray dance 'tinklingly. { I “By .love! this is hard luck,” he repeated, and he strode the length of his office frowningly. “Coming this week! -.And to play the deuce with—” but he • did not finish the sentence. There are thoughts that a man hesitates to form into cold-olooded English; and the man who paced that office floor and kicked defenseless rugs and chairs from his path found it easier to recognize in thought than in speech the .‘State of affairs that so irritated him. Old Mrs. Post, who dusted his office, f and just as vigilantly whisked all such friendly covering from the private affairs of Millport, would have been less squeamish. Indeed, that very morning she had been heard to say to her be- • capped and be-frilled neighbor, Mrs. Pennypaeker, that there would be “the • did gentleman to pay” when Miss Eleanor came home; which “oid gentleman,” to judge from her expression, was a creditor in not too high repute lor his leniency. “An’ w’ether ’e’ll break wi’ her an’ marry Miss Celia, ’e • can’t do it graceful, nor to 'break wi’ Miss Celia an’ marry her, no more;” at which lucid statement of the affair the • cap and frills of Mrs. Pennypaeker . nodded sagaciously. Harlowe Graham would probably !h;ave twisted his blonde mustache with • many degrees of added fierceness had he dreamed that gossiping cronies dared consider thus officiously matters that to him were as grave as they were '•unmentionable. His engagement to pretty Eleanor Field had been of tck> long standing to be ignored by any save the very one whom he chose to have ignore it, handsome Celia Chichester. This charming j-oung woman, having lived all her life abroad, had returned with accomplishments that included a knowledge of all the affairs on two continents, save, perhaps, the one very insignificant affair of Mr. Graham’s engagement, which affair that gentleman, in the triumph of his friendship with her lofty self, was quite willing ’ to relegate to the dim and cobwebby : past. •

Aiai iutvc uiauaui a vato to his own mind the bare truth concerning' his contemplated course was -due to the fact that he considered himself a man Of such fine and sterling honor that this quality of his could be only equaled by the rare mental and social elements that went to make up his somewhat exceptional character, But, however he might contrive to de- • ceive himself, his purpose was none ’the less fixed to see Miss Chichester before another day had passed, and determine just how successful had been his attentions to her. Alas! that plans projected with real •.skill and diplomacy must fall so short -of fulfillment. In the Chichester draw-ing-room that evening, he found a party of friends from a distance entertaining Miss Celia in so lively a -manner as to utterly preclude anything in the nature of the quiet tete-a-tete so desired. In the entire week of their visit he was no more fortunate; ^ind before the end of that time Elea4Sor had returned. Graham knew of her arrival almost rat once; but ne considered that he had .most excellent reasons for not going .near their home until several days .later. When, finally, he stood at the -threshold of the little house inquiring for her, he was informed that Eleanor, rfeeling indisposed, could not see him; and he never knew that the little .girl herself, at her window above the fragrant rose vines, watched him out v«f sight, with throbbing head and -eyes that were red from weeping. With -various embellishments Eleanor had told by one and another the story fcf Harlowe’s defection, and beneath her gentle tractableness there lay an under stratum of such sturdy pride that no power could have compelled her to see him until she felt she could -control in a measure the sickening disappointment at her heart. It was the following morning, while *she sat rather listlessly at the oldJashioned piano, that big Tom ChanLler, their next-door neighbor, ran in vith a budget of news. f “The Carters are home again in their -lovely place on the Petillantt” he ex--claimed, “and the dear madam has written me to bring up a party for the Fourth. It’ll be no end of fun— .and of course I thought of you right -away. In fact, Mrs. Carter made a ^special request for you; and Mrs. Carter, you know, takes no denials.” “I want you to go,” Mrs. Field said, nvith gentle authority. “It will be a ■most delightful rest for you as well as a pleasant visit You haven’t seen the •Carters for three years.” “I know,” Eleanor answered slowly; ■■then, with sudden resolve: “Thank you very much, Tom; I will go gladly.” And glad enough she looked on that •brilliant morning, sitting in the prow -of the little tug whose speed through -the waters caused the wind to whirl -the flaxen tendrils about her shapely bead and call up the straying colorjto her cheek. Harlowe was relieved to have# gotten somehow through the form of greeting her, and back where the white waters rippled from the astern he leaned above Celia’s chair, but faintly and uneasily conscious of her -existence. It was not until they were well up -the Fetiliant and making the landing Mj^^he Carters’ slip that his attention ■\8HTballeJl rather startlingly to her. -On the deck beside Miss Carter stood ** bearded fellow in uniform, whose

strikingly handsome face and d is tin* guished bearing would have attracted notice anywhere, and Graham, watching him with involuntary admiration, saw him reach forth a cordial hand and exclaim in a tone compounded of amazement and delight: “Miss Eleanor! Here!” And Eleanor,1 her sweet face alight, was saying softly as he helped her out: “Lieut. Thorne! How did it happen? I thought' you were weil on your way toward &pain.” Graham heard no more; but he felt something like resentment mixed with his wonder that Eleanor could possibly, without his knowledge and consent, count among her acquaintances so commanding and attractive a person as this unexplained Lieut. Thorne. His mind was so busy with the problem that at first he did not hear Miss Celia's laughing comment: “Your little friend seems to have found a desideratum in brass buttons!” lie shrugged his shoulders with an answering laugh that was not wholly mirthful^ “They'll hear you,” he returned, shortly, by way of warning, for j Eleanor and the blue uniform were but ! a step ahead. Hut Miss Celia was not to be warned, i “I will console you if I can,” she said, gayly. “though you have not honored me with an account of your little romance;” and then, more softly: “I have only waited for your confidences befere burdening you with my own. You remember Mr. Burnap, whom you met at the house last week? He is the fortunate man, and he thought an explanation rather due you before now; but I was hardly so egotistical as to acknowledge the necessity.” . Lieut. Thorn saw none of it, nor had he heard 'the mocking laugh behind. He was conscious of but one fact in all the glowing universe, and that fact walked beside him in a modest gray gown. “To think that all a man's aspirations, his verj* life and strength, should be bound up in a little parcel five feet two!” he suddenly exclaimed; and, though the voice was playful, when Eleanor looked up there was astrange .mistiness about tbe kindly eyes. A sudden glow and warmth suffused her face. How tall and powerful he looked, towering above her, and yet how kind and good! And she had been so blind to it all bef<$re, blind because —but she would not think of that. There should be no more blindness, she decided, though eye-openings were not always the pleasantest things in the world. He saw the flare of color on her rounded cheek and the slight paleness that followed. “I haVe annoyed you,” he said, “and I promised to be good. But tbe days have been long since you left, and how am 1 to remember promises or any other things, when all my energies have been used of late in trying to forget? There! I will not spoil your visit. I‘m in mortal terror lest you may be spirited off as mysteriously as you caipe.” He was laughing lightly now, with the.evident desire to set her at her ease, and he launched swiftly into a description of the various providential happenings that had gained him hisc furlough, and of the further good fortune of his meeting with Mrs Carter at Cleveland, of her invitation, and his half-indifferent acceptance. It was really a beautiful day for so tardy a dawning; and Eleanor, feeling the cordial gladness ia her hostess’ welcome, smiled the more gladly when that astute soul remarked, with a tap of her fan upon his shoulder: “You, Lieut. Thorne, are to take Miss Field to dinner. My dear. I send you out with the only lion 1 have captured for this happy occasion.” Eleanor laughed gayly. Somehow it began t o be natural to laugh. “I’m afraid of lions,” she said, somewhat shyly, as she took his arm. “You needn’t be,” was his mischievous reply, “they never eat sweets.” He, too, had forgotten that only last night he had paced the walk in the White starlight and fancied himself a worn old man, so tired and lifeless he had grown. There were threads of white in his hair, that he knew; but to-day he felt boy-like, exuberant. What a merry dinner it was! Eleanor never had seemed so bright. “Girls are funny things!” Tom Chandler thought. “Only last week that child was looking the picture of despair; and now she’s like sunshine itself.”

too. The sunshine had not fallen on him with any very brilliant effect. The world looked rather gray, indeed, and life a good deal of a bore. He took himself off after dinner, and walked along the river bank, sullenly throwing in stones and watching the water as it broke into fluttering ripples. The reflections thus shivered and marred were no more disturbed than his own. One thing he knew; Celia Chichester should never guess what chagrin she had caused him. He would impress it upon her that his devoirs to herself were the merest whiling away of a weary tedium, and that the ‘‘little romance” to which she had so ironically referred was the very light of his life. And Eleanor? Well, Eleanor was a soft, sweet, yielding little thing, not so large or imposing or handsome as Miss Celia, but not unintelligent, after all, and really very pretty. He would be quite kind and attentive to her, too, and it would be very easy to make ^excuses for his late apparent lack of interest. She had always been a generous, forgiving little thing; it was hardly likely that she would be any less so now when the suppliant was the man who had been her ideal always. Graham smiled with pleased complacency as he smoothed his tawny mustache and threw his broad shoulders back. Yes, Elea nor had admired him always, and, despite her pretty shyness, had confessed it in many ways. He began to recall little scenes of the last summer but one, when the dear girl, her home-loving heart sad at the thought of separation, had been quite unable to keep her love for him from filtering through her eyes and thrilling in every

word she spoke. He remembered how actn&l, happy tears trembled upon her dark lashes when he solemnly told her how impossible it would be for him lore and loyalty ever to wane. And now it lay within his power to make her quite as happy again. He began to feel almost magnanimous in the thought of what he was giving up and how he meant to rejoice her tender heart. He found his step growing quicker as it turned back along the path toward the great house. On the lawn he found them gathered, watching a game of tennis; and, alert and swift and rosy, Eleanor darted here and there across the court or sent the balls swift and straight into her opponent's field. “Gad! she plays a good game!” young Carter called out, admiringly. “She hadn’t a peer in our little club in New York,” Lieut Thorne said, with enthusiasm. Grays turned away somewhat diaqhieted- He would hare preferred her in sadder mood, lie would wait until the end of the game and take her a stroll alopg the bluffs. Hut at the end of the game, by some preconcerted plan, she and her naval friend repaired to the cool drawing-room for a special little visit with Mrs. Carter. Graham could hear the quiet conversation and the occasional soft little peals of laughter, from where he sat upon the wide veranda. lly the time they sauntered out he had reached that hypercritical state where everything about this handsome officer with his fine figure, his soft manners, and his rare smile, struek him disagreeably, lie was quite sure he didn’t care to see Eleanor now, or to talk with her. It was just as well; for dinner was presently announced, and as they were assigned their dinner-seats and Miss Field was cozily ensconced between her friend Tom and the lieutenant, there would ha ve been small chance for him. In the meantime, that obnoxious person, usually the most reserved of men, was detailing to the little girl in gray all the long, long thoughts that had haunted him since an evening, weeks before, when she had put a sudden end to the hopes burning high within him. “And this fortunate fellow whom I can’t help wanting to bayonet, Miss Eleanor, where is he?” . “Here,” said Eleanor, with * a pathetic little gesture, and then, in answer to his look of amaze: “I think it was all a—mistake. He—did not care; and now, I believe—I do not care, myself.’.’ The man was looking at her in a kind of stupefaction, and she went on hurriedly: “I don’t understand it —or myself. How can 1 tell you? 1 think 1 must be very shallow and very fickle; for at first I thought it would break my heart, but now—” “Now,” he interrupted, and his eyes sought her owp as if to read the very soul in them—“now, Eleanor, is it possible there is hope for a great old ruffian who has tormented you so long because his life was so intolerable a thing without you?” &he did not speak at once, but her trembling little fingers touched his own with a sudden impulse of gratitude and fervor. “You are so good, so good!” she said, her sweet voice choking. “There is no one like you—no, not one—so grand, so strong, so worthy the best love—and the first!” He held the little fingers close. “Eleanor, sweet,” he said, “if I win your love, however tardy, I pray heaven I shall be made worthy so unspeakably precious a gift.”

The deep voice rang with earnestness; and when she lifted her tear-wet eyes to his face there was shining in their limpid depths a light he had never seen there before. The rest of that evening was like a dream. The pyrotechnics over, Eleanor sang for them; and standing off across the room, his eyes feasting upon her sweet and radiant face, as did all his sense of sound and melody upon her liquid notes, Lieut. Thorne felt that a kindly providence had united all its best girls in this one adorable maiden, and that in her, indeed, was nothing more to be desired. From the dimness of the cool veranda another man looked on, amazed past all expression at the power and sweetness of that voice as it set his pulses tingling. What an easy, graceful, selfpossessed little lady it was, too; and what perfect control she had of every tone ringing clear and bird-like on the air! He ixied to remember the simplicity and shyness which he had always thought characterized her. There seemed to be not a trace of it left. Her very gown, that soft, gray affair, silvery in the white lamp-light, had a certain tone and elegance about it that struck him oddly. Evidently, to this self-poised and accomplished young woman he must apply other arguments and persuasions than tho$e he had planned so easily a few hours before. He waited in a sort of frenzy of impatience for the time of their leavetaking. When at last they were gathered in the soft moonlight, ready to clambpr into the noisy little tug, he reached forth an eager, impetuous hand to Eleanor, still lingering on the dock. She shook her head with an unconcerned little smile of thanks, and took a step backward toward the tall fellow waiting near her. “We are to keep Miss Eleanor,” that young commander said, buoyantly. “Tom has a note for her mother,” Miss Carter explained. “We couldn't let her go so soon. It will be all right, I’m sure.” - But Harlowe Graham, as they steamed away, looking miserably at j those dim figures on a the shore, the ! slender, graceful girl, the stalwart man, felt for once in his life that nothing was right, not even his own irreproachable self. It was Mrs. Post who managed somehow to first tell Millport the news. “An’ as I was savin’ to Mis’ Pennypacker,” she shrilled, “ ’e wa’n’t niver the man for’er, no ’ow! An’ that loo tenant—me suz! W’en ’e lays his eyes on 'er sweet face, they do be brighter nor all his button*.” — Demorest’s Maga* sine.

IMPORTS AND THE REVIVAL. A Natural Result of Returning Comaiea irial Prosperity. The republican press continues to groan daily over the increase of iraports. Catching at every straw which they think may serve to keep them and their McKinley tariff issue above water, our republican friends point to the difference between the imports of the last few months and those of the corresonding months last year. They refuse to compare the recent figures with those of the corresponding period in the flseal year 1893, but persist m telling their readers that the country Is goii^T to ruin because we are importing more goods now than' were imported in the depths of the panic. It is true that the imports during the months which have elapsed since the enactment of the new tariff have ! been larger than the imports during } the corresponding months of last year, i It is encouraging that this increase has ; taken place. Our republican friends j should bear in rajnd the fact that at j the same time the country has been experiencing a remarkable revival of | business activity and confidence, lias the increase of imports paralyzed do- | mestic industry? Let the grea£ I and growing demand for consumption, j the extraordinary list of increase of j wages, the rtisumption of work | in hundreds of idle factories, the ad- * vance of prices, and the many other proofs of returning prosperity, answer this question. It was inevitable that recovery from panic depression should be accompanied by an increase of imports, and this increase would have taken place even underrates like those of the McKinley act. Republicans know, or ought to_know, that the imports of dutiable goods were considerably larger in the fiscal year 1803, when the McKinley duties were in force, than they have been in the fiscal year just ended, although raw sugar was free from duty then and has been dutiable since, August 28 last. The following table shows the value of the im-ports-during the eleven months ending on May 31 for the last three years, the last three figures of each number having been omitted: TOTAL IMPORTS. 11 Months, 11 Months, 11 Months, 109.X l&H 1693. Dutiable..*337.816 *258.819 f. 89.651 Free.. 382.488 349,391 407,c3.> Total.$6*0,302 $603,210 $ifsI3o It will be observed that the imports j for the eleven months in the last fiscal year were less by 15}^ per cent, than those of the eleven months of 1S93, under the McKinley duties, although the free imports in 1893 were swollen by $103,000,000 worth of raw sugar, while the dutiable imports of 1895 included about $40,000,000 for raw sugar transferred to the dutiable list. It is encouraging, and it is a sign of returning confidence and prosperity, that the imports of 1895 are larger than those of 1864. The McKinley rates did not prevent the purchase of foreign goods by the people of this country, who shipped to foreign lands last year $550,000,000 worth of the products of agriculture, with other exports amounting to about $250,000,000. During the panic, however, their foreign purchases were abnormally small; now they are increasing again. But the increase has not brought the totals up to the level of 1893. and to this fact—so carefully avoided or ignored by them—we direct the attention of republicans0 and republican journals. The following table will enableHhem to compare the imports under the leading schedules during the eleven months ending on May 31 of this year with those of the corresponding months in the fiscal years 1894 and 1893. They always stop with 1894, because the figures for 1893 (a year during which the McKinley tariff was in full force) make their partisan pleas and arguments ridiculous. For convenience in tabulation we have cut off the last three figures of each number:

IJirunio it .1/0* 1S9S. Woolen poods. ?.832.750 Iron and steel.21,213 Silk poods. 29.308 Cotton goods. 31,443 Glass and glassware, 6 089 Crockery.. 8.158 Animals.. 2,583 Books, engravings, etc......;... 3,085 Cement.... 3.020 Chemicals... 40.458 Fruit and nuts.. 15,073 Hides ana skins. 22.290 Leather..... 5,900 Manufactures of leather. 6,587 Paper, and manufactures . 2.628 Spices.. 2,&25, Textile erasses.. 12,-34 Manufactures of the same....... 24,385 Wines..... 0.598 During nine of the eleven months of the fiscal yetf? 1895 the new tariff was in force; during the entire period of eleven months in the fiscal year 1893 the tariff law in operation was that of McKinley. As in the case of the totals in our first table, so with respect to every one of these items, the value of the imports has been less in 1895 than it was in 1893. We have repeatedly urged our republican contemporaries to admit the existence of this difference, and to comment upon it, but we have urged in vain.—N. Y. Times. 11 Mot. l&H. 818.431 19.403 23.334 21,244 4.793 6.419 2,331 3.239 2,925 31.298 16.706 15 432 4.109 - 4,743 2,401 1.995 11,157 17.870 6.110 11 Mot. 1893. $35,360 31.800 36,232 31.709 7.349 8.614 4.367 3.840 8.276 48,860 21,551 26.220 7,618 7,234 3.527 3.106 20.131 26.270 9,214 The Lesson of Free Wool. The coming congress, we venture to predict, will not put a tax on imposts of wool. It is mighty hard to reenslave an article once set free. McKinley tried to do it with hides and failed. Free wool adds another to the object lessons taught by quinine and hides. Had a republican congressman put all sugars on the free list, instead of taxing refined in order to shelter and maintain the sugar trust, the last congress would not have been able to tax imports even for revenue. The farm- | ers who yet imagine they were hurt by free wool might as well give up and join the rest of us now in an effort to get free woolens. Fifty per cent, protection on them is absurd as well as outrageous.—St. Paul Globe. -Besides being a public robber, the McKinley bill was destructive to American industry. Besides being a relief to the masses, the present tariff has had a stimulating effect on all lines of industry.—Florida Times-Union.

BLOODY FRUIT. Din Consequent-#* of » High ProtN tlw Tariff. No strife is so bitter and relentless as that engendered by racial prejudice or by national jealousies. Nineteen hundred years of Christianity have not been so potent for the inculcation among the peoples of the Christian doctrine of the brotherhood of man as to counteract the continued impeachment in favor of so-called patriotism, which often is argument in favor of national hatreds and racial bitternesses. This land has often been the scene of bloody encounters between persons of alien birth, who, unmindful of the hospitality shown them by these shores, have carried their old country feuds across the 'water and have disturbed the peace and order of parts of the republic for the gratification of their own deadly hatred. The orange and the green have become one red at times, fighting like fanatics 9ver o©», curenccs of bygone ages. Such savagery as extended itself among various aliens has been promoted by native Americans in their own fanatic patriotism, their own demand that whoever has come from beyond the’seas shall conform in the waving of flags, in the observance of a New England Sabbath, in regulating their personal habits to a fanatical A meric An standard. This situation has been deepened and intensified by the utter dishonesty of the republican party in maintaining high protective tariff laws exclusively for the benefit of the manufacturer. 'niat policy has maintained fre« trade in labor while making a closed market for American products. It has resulted in driving distinctively American labor from all the paths of industry and has supplied its place systematically with aliens who have been coaxed hither by the promise of high wages to be given them by protected manufacturers, who wish to have the benefit of free trade in labor. All the wjjile Americans were told by preachers of tariff legislation that the one purpose wa« to dignify, enrich and ennoble the American laborer, and ail the while the real beneficiaries were bringing the cheapest labor of tha world into this market—labor with all its racial prejudices, all its. savage promptings and all its willingness to underbid native labor. The Hun and the Slav have taken the place of the American laborers at mines. Tumult and disorder have arisen in various places as the result of lockouts and of strikes and of encounters between contending savages. The real responsibility for such exhibition of barbarism in America lies at the door of the republican protective policy, that has steadily sought to discourage or forbid importations of fabrics, but has opened wide the ports of America to the least enlightened peoples of the earth and has brought them here for no other purpose than to drive out intelligent American labor as being too high-priced for the greedy corporations that would have a tariff law benefit them in both ways by giving them cheap labor and a monopoly market. - The inevitable fruit of McKinleyism ripened in bloodshed at Spring Valley. Everywhere in the land it has repeatedly borne bloody fruit.—Chicagc Chronicle.

PARAGRAPHIC POINTERS. -If Gen. Harrison isn’t a candidate, Gen. John C. New and the rest of his machine workers don’t know it.— N. Y. World. -In these improving democratic times even Pike’s peak has grown a thousand feet taller.—Louisville Cou-rier-Journal. ! -The notice of an increase of wages posted in all the cotton miHs of Lowell the other day was not intended as a free trade document, but Ohio Napoleons of calamity will feel just. as much insulted by it as if it were.—N. Y. World. -It was during the era of McKinleyism that millionaires at one extreme of the populatftm and tramps at the other became strikingly distinct classes. That was the result of a system of taxation devised to more desperately impoverish the poor .and to more munificently enrich the wealthy. —Chicago Chronicle. --Tom Reed’s new plan to bring the republican party into prominence as an anti-monopoly organization, friendly to labor, will be taken with a great deal of salt along the Pacific slope, where they have not forgotten that a republican president vetoed a bill to prohibit Chinese immigration,. and will be greeted with bitter derision at Homestead, where under a republican administration good American workingmen were compelled to repel an alien invasion of Pinkerton detectives.—Detroit Free Press. -Republican “thunder’’ is nearly exhausted. Campaign ammunition— the ammunition for an intelligent, earnest, patriotic campaign—is conspicuous largely for its absence. The force bill has been shelved. Henry Cabot Lodge, its author, says it would be political folly to make a federal election law an issue in another campaign. The Sherman law of 1SQ0 is no longer regarded as the embodiment of republican financial wisdom; McKinley ism is dead beyond the hope of resurrection, and the cry of the jingo receives attention in inverse ratio to the constancy, earnestness and volume of the howl.—Philadelphia Record. ——Under the operations of the McKinley law the Ohio governor put considerable money into a manufacturing enterprise at Youngstown by backing the company with indorsements and otherwise. The-result was a failure that threw Gov. McKinley into bankruptcy, very much to the regret of everybody. Under , the operations of the Wilson law the Youngstown stamping works, in which Gov. McKinley was interested, and which were suspended Under the McKinley tariff law, have secured a new lease of life. As announced in a dispatch from Youngstown the works have been purchased by a new company, and the plant will be remodeled and new machinery put in, which will greatly increase the output.—Pittsburgh Post.

USEFUL AND SUGGESTIVE. Rose Flavoring—Fill a jar with frHh Mown rate petals -(the old-fashioned the best) and fill up with good whisky and seaL Put a little bit in eake or pudding for flavoring. It will bear filling with whisky two or three times. —City and Country. —Pompton Cake.—Two cape of sugar, two cups of flour, one cup of sweet cream, three eggs beaten light, a teaspoonful of vanilla, two spoonfuls of baking-powder. Beat the yolks and sugar, add the whites, cream, flour, etc.—Chicago Record. —Caveach Mackerel. —Clean and divide six mackerel; cut each half into three pieces. Powder and mix one ounce of pepper, two nutmegs, a little mace, four cloves, and salt; make a hole in each piece of fish, into which force the seasoning. Fry in oil, allow to become perfectly cold, put in a stone jar, and cover with vinegar.—Harper’s Bazar. —Panned Egg&—Take the scraps of cold meat and bread, some pepper, salt and butter. Chop together very fine, moisture with milk to a soft batter, half fill the gem pahs with this mixture. Break an egg" carefully upon each, dust each with pepper, salt and rolled cracker; set in the oven and bake.—Mrs. W. H. Zinn, in Farm, Field and Fireside. batter as in the preceding recipe; bake it in two shallow pans. Have ready a mince of veal, mutton, beef or ham. nicely seasoned and moistened with a good gravy. When the cakes are removed from the oven spread the mince on one and cover it with the other. Cut in squares with a sharp knife or serve whole.—Ladies’ Horae Journal. —Broiled Mutton.—Cut some good slices from a joint of mutton, and plaoe them on a gridiron over a clear fire, adding plenty of pepper and salt. When done, arrange the meat round a dish, adding a few Small pieces of butter,and* place in{theoveutp keep hot Now take a little gravy, heat it,add enough tomato sauce to it to flavor highly, and pour it in the center of the meat. Serve hot with mashed potato.—Leed’s Mercury. —Canning Peas and Beans.—Shell them as if for dinner, put them in hot water, let them boil and put them up in tin cans, observing carefully three points indispensable to successful canning, namely, that the article be put up boiling hot, that the vessel be filled to the brim, and that it be sealed perfectly air tight. Can okra by slicing It across, putting it on the stove in a kettle or pot till it comes to a boil and then putting it up as dther vegetables. —M.W. Early, in Orange Judd Farmer. —The best salad dressing is a rich French mayonnaise, which is made in the following manner: Beat the yolk of one egg—which has been previously thoroughly tooled on ice—until it is quite frothy, then gradually pour in, drop by drop, a suflieient quantity of the best olive oil to make it a thick consistency. Add to this a bit of mustard. a pinch .of salt, a little pepper, ' and just a “soupcon,*’ as the French , say, of cayenne pepper. Dash in some vinegar or lemon juice and you have & splendid mayonnaise. Of all things don’t spoil it by adding sugar. Sugar .in mayonnaise is quite as bad as salt in ice-cream. The chicken meat should be cut in little squares, or shredded, and a portion of it served on a lettuce leaf, with the mayonnaise poured over it, which makes a delicious salad.— Chicago ^Tribune. Mince.—Prepare the

FEMININE FASHIONS. Odd Notea on the Latest to Women's Costumes. A stylish dress of pale-green crepoa has a round skirt, very wide pjt the hem, and a trimming of velvetribbon set in at the waist-line and drawn down over the skirt about one-half the distance, where it meets very large bows with loops and ends. There are eight of these bands around the skirt, four on either side. A dress of India mull, with stripes of embroidery, has a’ corselet belt made of five bands of ribbon. These are gathered into a series of loops at the back, and from this belt fall five ends of ribbon, spreading over the back of the skirt. The sleeves are finished with very large bows, apd there is a ribbon collar with a bowf at the back of the neck. White linen collars and cuffs are again in favor for ladies’ wear. Some of the new shirt waists have adjustable collars and cuffs that may be laundered like those worn by men. This has advantages, as collars on the garment do not do up as easily as those that are detached. Black satin and morire skirts will be . worn with" velvet waists as soon as the wrap can be discarded. One of the favorite waists is of black velvet with satin sleeves. Another is of dark blue velvet with velvet sleeves and a profusion of jet garniture. A dress with low corsage has a niching of chrysanthemum leaves at the upper edge. These petals are taken from the artificial flowers and sewed on to a band. They make a very pretty and becoming trimming. Skirts cut on the bias, that is, so that the strip will run in diagonal fashion, are among the novelties.— N. Y. Ledger. ___ A Rumor About the Chignon. The latest rumor in regard to hairdressing is that the waterfall or chignon is about to return and render the heads of womankind the monstrosities they were a generation ago. Even the accompanying net is threatened. The only comfort is that this is a “go as you please” era, and it is not at all s likely that a fashion so ugly will prevail to any great extent. A more immediate prophecy is that the dem ure parting is about to depart and the pompadour will take its place. There is no style so charming for a low, broad forehead as the loose, softly brushed pompadour. The hard, clearly defined roll is inartistic, and the hair can easily be made to stand up with a pretty, puffy effect by waiving it on the crimping pins or with the waiving irons with half a dozen prongs, which come for the purpose. —Philadelphia Press.