Newspaper Page Text
The Jones County News,
M. 0 . GREENE PUBLISHER.
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I T was just before the Christmas of
1839 tiiat four little Alabama girls
were as busy as four little girls—
Lily Langhorne, Lucy Waller, Mat-
tie Harwood and Lizzie Ella Manning
—could be. They were to have a dolls’
party on the Monday after Christmas,
and they could talk of nothing else,
Hal Stanley discovered that the girls
had a project on hand. The whisper¬
ing behind desk lids and around the
stove, and the long conferences during
recess, Mold the secret, although the
strictest silence about their plans was
maintained in the presence of the boys.
Lily often let slip an unguarded re¬
mark about the coming festivity, and
then clapped her hands over her
mouth if she saw Ilnl Stanley near,
for Lizzie Ella had said over and over
again, “Whatever you do, Lily Lang-
liorne, don’t you tell Hal Stanley. I
don’t want him to know one word
about it until it is all over!”
“I say so, too!” exclaimed Mattie
Harwood. “Why, aren’t you going to
let him come to, the party?” asked Lily,
in a pathetic voice.
“Let him come!” said Lizzie Ella.
“I’m astonished at you, Lily Lang¬
horne. Don’t you know Hal Stanley
well enough to know we don’t want
him at our party? What are you think¬
ing about?”
"I thought maybe you’d let hint
come, after we had finished fixin’ our
things?” said Lily.
“Well, you thought wrong—lie shan’t
come any time if I have anything to
do with it,” asserted Lizzie Ella.
“He lets me ride on his pony some¬
times, and leads him all around the
front yard,” said Lily, meekly.
“Yes, and pinches you when he takes
yof off the pony, doesn’t he?” retorted
Lizzie Elia.
“He don’t pinch me hard,” insisted
Lily.
“Well, Lily Langhorne, yon are a
strange girl, I declare. I should think
you wouldn’t want: him at the party,”
answered Lizzie Ella, with a toss of
her head.
“Oh, I don’t want him, if you don’t,
Lizzie Ella. Only he said he was
coinin’, anyhow,” said Lily.
“Very well,” said Lizzie Ella, still
provoked, “none of the boys shall come
if Hal Stanley is to come. If he comes
I shall not come, and my sister shall
not make the dolls’ dresses, and I
won’t lay my hand to a thing. I did
think we could have some boys and
have a dance, but we’ll have girls
enough to make a set.”
“It would he nice to have some
boys,” said Mattie Harwood. “Ed.
Waller can dance.”
“Well, we can’t have them. My
mother says we cannot invite the other
boys and not invite Hal Stanley, and I
—will—not—have—Hal Stanley at our
dolls’ party. Now, you’ve got it,” said
Lizzie Ella defiantly, as she walked
away from the group of girls.
And so it was settled that the dolls’
party should be enjoyed without the
presence of boys, and the preparations
for the event began. The Saturday
before the eventful Monday the table
was already decorated with frosted
cakes and fruits and candies. The
dolls in all their finery were in their
seats.
The table was beautiful. The bright
colored candles and the gay dresses of
the dolls shone among bouquets and
garlands and bowers. Everything had
been arranged to perfection, and the
door of the room was closed. Vfter
the dance the girls were to enter the
room and stand around the table be¬
hind the dolls. Each girl was to have
a match, and at a given signal each
was to light the three candles in front
of the doll behind which she stood.
They had practiced the marching and
standing until they could do it without
a mistake. All were to light the can¬
dles at once, so that an illumination
should burst over the table like a flash.
By 4 o’clock Monday afternoon the
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girls had arrived in full dress. They
talked and played games, and every¬
thing was delightful. The moment ar¬
rived when the procession was to
march to the table where the tine for¬
eign ladies in national costumes await¬
ed them. The music on the piano
struck up and the girls started. On
they went, keeping step to the march
until they reached the table and each
girl stood in her place. Not a mistake
had been made; the girls were radiant
with happiness. The signal was given
and suddenly (lie table was a blaze of
light. The pyramid of snowy cakes
and the sparkling candies and brilliant
fruits and tiny bowers and wreaths
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made a fairy scene. A burst of ad¬
miration went round the table. “Oh!
oh! oh! oh!” sounded from one to an¬
other. They were too delighted to
speak, when suddenly a scream
brought everybody back from fairj
land. It was Lily Langhorne. “The
dolls! Oh, the dolls! where are tlie
dolls? Oh! oh! oh!”
Then every girl asked the same ques¬
tion, except Lizzie Ella, who shrieked,
“Who did it? who did it?”
And where were the dolls? There in
the chair of each one sat a dirty rag
doll with a black face and a woolly
head, wearing a red calico turban in¬
stead of a wreath of roses.
“It’s Hal Stanley, hatefuLHal Stan¬
ley!” screamed Lizzie Ella.
“Hal Stanley!” echoed all the girls.
“We’ll never speak to him again!”
During the excitement a servant
opened a closet door in a corner of the
room.
“Look byab, Mlstis,” called she to
Mrs. Langhorne, “liyah’s de dolls. For
graslius sake, jes look!”
And sure enough there hung the
dolls. The Parisian lady, with Imr
hands tied behind her back, was hang¬
ing from a peg; the Spanish lady was
dangling by her feet; the Switzerland
lady was tied and gagged so that she
could not speak one word; and the la¬
dies of Russia and Holland, Denmark
and Sweden and Prussia were hanging
in disgrace.
GRAY. JONES CO.. GA.. THURSDAY. DECEMBER 25 . 1902 .
Mrs, Langhorue’8 scissors cut the
gallon s, and she handed to each girl
her treasure.' The fine spangles and
laces had suffered from the execution,
but the lady dolls were soon placed at
• he table and the rag dolls were
thrown aside with contempt.
“Your dolls arc not dead if they have
been hanged,” said Mrs. Langhorne.
"They are as much alive ns they ever
were.”
Sunshine followed the storm, anil the
girls did enjoy the remainder of the
evening. Nobody ever discovered who
hanged the dolli The Household.
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i CHRISTMAS Oysters ha.ll M£ shell
l served oi\
Consomme
: Olives Almonds . :
fish, Coi\fir\ei\tel, Browned Oysler Sauce-
TurKey Potatoes. ■
Creamed Craqbcrry Cauliflower Molds
Celery, Pumplyiq Mayonnaise Pie Wafers
While Steamed Mouse ke Raisins- Cream Cotoarmf 6or\bor\s poiqtlets
Coffee
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Infantile Dedfiction.
“I guess paw hasn’t got so much
money this year,” said little brother.
“What makes you think so?” asked
little sister.
“ ’Cause lie was telling me that it
wasn’t right to impose on Santa Claus
just because the old feller was good-
natured.”—Indianapolis Journal.
On Ureas Parade.
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First Pumpkin—“Mr. Turkey is very
careful about his appearance!”
Second Pumpkin—“Yes; I’ve always
noticed that he is very well dressed
about Christmastime.”—Chicago News.
^iTnstmas^ Makinp'
Candies 9
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RFC »
The difficulties of candy making
have been greatly exaggerated. Any
one with a little patience can make
very good confectionery.
The easiest candies to make are
those prepared from confectioners’
sugar and eggs. The sugar is of line
quality mixed with certain gums to
give it consistency and requires no
troublesome boiling, hence its popular-
by.
To make the candy from the sugar,
several eggs are broken and the whites
are separated from the yolks. The
yolks may be set aside for use in some
household operation, as only the whites
are needed for the candy.
For a pound box of candy the whites
of two eggs are about sufficient. The
whites are put in a cup and mixed
with an equal quantity of water and
about lmlf a tenspoouful of .extract of
vanilla or whatever other flavoring
extract is to bo used. The liquid is
Mien gradually mixed with the sugar
until a paste of about the consistency
of dough has been made. The cotupo-
sition is thoroughly worked together
with a strong wooden or metal spoon
of large size.
A clean white cloth is spread on the
table. The hands being thoroughly
washed, a little butter the unsalted
kind is best—is spread upon the lln-
gers, and tlm pieces of candy are
Worked into shape and placed In a pan
on a piece of oiled paper. The pan is
then put away until the candy hardens.
These candies may tie colored brown
by mixing melted chocolate with the
candy when the eggs and flavor are
put in. The juice of spinach will im¬
part a green that is a perfectly harm¬
less coloring.
The kernels of English walnuts
placed on the top of the hits of candy,
half a kernel to each piece, make deli¬
cious confectionery.
A sort of nougat can lie made by
slicing shelled English walnuts,
blanched almonds and dean white pea-
nuts. Tbe slices of nuts should be
mixed with the »uj?ar and eggH while
still quite liquid, cure being taken not
to break the nuts more than neces*
sary. The substance is then formed
into bars and set aside to dry and
harden.
Chocolate creams may he made by
taking the white sugar and whites of
eggs and moiling the pieces of candy
into little eoues. These are set aside
for several hours, or a day, to harden.
Some melted sweet chocolate is pre¬
pared In a bowl and each of the cones
Is taken up on the point of a clean, new
hatpin which has been scoured with
sand soap before using and one by one
they are dipped into the chocolate un¬
til they are thoroughly coated. They
are then ranged on sheets of oiled
paper on buttered pans and left to
harden.
Coeonnut candles may be made by
mixing shredded coeonnut with the
sugar as the candy is being made.
THE EATS- GHRI&TMAS.
BY LOUIS WAIN.
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1. We are invited out for Christmas.
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II. Snapdragon is a splendid game,
If some other fellow picks out the
plums.
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III. The dance was great and we en¬
joyed ii so much
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IV. it could not have been what we
ate which made us so ill the next morn¬
ing, because our doctor said it was
quite usual to be ill after Christmas.
There must be something in the air.—
Mail and Express.
‘Uesjeml of the MIsvIhIoo,
Christmas is never Christinas with¬
out the Holly wreath and the mistletoe.
Christians venerated the holly or Holy
tree because* to them the little thorny
leaves and red berries made in a
wreath typified tlie crown of thorns
and the bloody drops. Doubtless they
introduced tills solemn reminder at the
festival in order not to forget the sa-
eredness of the occasion in tin* general
festivities.
The mistle bush, misilelod- or mis¬
tletoe, as we know II owes its life
as a festal decoration to pagan limes.
According to the Scandinavian legend,
Iialdur, the most beloved of all (lie
gods, had a premonition that death im¬
pended. Thereupon his mother, Frlgga,
besought everything that was begotten
of earth, air, tire or water to swear
not to harm her sou.
But in her request sin* overlooked the
insignificant little* mistletoe. Loki, tin*
god of destruction, disguised as an old
woman, visited Friggn, and. learning
of her oversight, hurried hack to where
the gods were assembled. There they
were amusing themselves l>y hurling
all manner of missiles at Iialdur, and
all were turned aside. Mm Loki with
an arrow of mistletoe pierced Baidtir’s
heart.
In reparation, the mistletoe was
given to Frlgga to do as she saw fit,
provided it touched not earth. And
Him, to show that she bore no ill will,
hung It up, and every one who passed
under It received a kiss as a token that,
instead of hatred and jealousy, Hie
mistletoe now stood for love and for¬
giveness.
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An old English recipe for plum pud¬
is as follows: Mix together one
one-hall cupfuls of currants that
been cleaned, washed and dried,
and one-half cupfuls of stoned
one pound of suet, chopped
three-quarters of a pound of stale
crumbs, one-quarter of a pound
brown sugar, onc-quurter of a pound
flour, the grated rind of one lemon
one-haif pound of minced candied
peel. Beat five eggs, not sep¬
the whites and .yolks, add one
of liquid to them and mix thor¬
with the other Ingredients.
for six hours. When wanted for
boil six hours longer. When ready
serve, umiiould, slick u sprig of
in tiie centre, and wreath with
hard sauce.
bk
VOL. IX. NO. 5 .
MODUltN SCIiNKJ ART.
NTERESTINC PRELIMINARIES TO THE
PRODUCTION OF A PLAY.
Matinor of Preparing tlio Models for tlio
Scenery, Costume* and Idghtlng Effects
— llow the Artist Works Out Ills Ideas
No as to Produce a Harmonious Itesult.
Throughout the long history of thea¬
trical scene-painting—and it goes hack
to the shadowy days of tlio Masques,
wlien privileged spectators sat on tlio
stage at the feet of the actors—there
lias been a strong desire among play¬
goers to penetrate the. mysteries of
stage-craft. In view of this fact, the
conspicuous absence from tomes of
the past of any hook treating exclu¬
sively of scenic painting, or the secrets
of the mechanism that property-mas¬
ters and stage-carpenters delight in,
is surprising. And yet their story,
if they would tell it, would fill a vol¬
ume so rich and varied in all sorts of
wisdom, that the grave and the gay,
the lively and severe, would find un¬
told measures of Instruction and en¬
tertainment in its pages.
Fifty feet above the stage on which
the Walkttre maidens chanted their
wild mountain call to a Metropolitan
audience during the last Wagner fes¬
tival in New York, swings the narrow
board-walk on which one of the best
scene painters of America spends each
day and an occasional night, creating
the settings that will he seen in the
productions of tlio new season To
this lofty pedestal the layman must
follow him who would appreciate the
old, and yet distinctly new, art of
scene-painting, and unravel the illu¬
sions that irradiate a stage-setting
with sunlight, starlight, moon beams
snowflakes, or forked lightning.
For the scenic-master is monarch of
all he surveys when iie climbs to his
throne near the roof of the house, and
looks down on the three wizard worlds
below, ruled respectively by the atage-
narpenter, lln* property-master, and the
electrician. Hack of him Is the mas¬
sive stretch of canvas on which he
uses his myriad brushes, when ho
turns to face ills work. It, is lowered
or ialsed by heavy ropes, so that he
cun remain stationary while lie paints
the door-knob and tbe cupola of a pal¬
ace. Beside him is his "palette”—a
long table bordered with 60 dishes full
of 60 different colors in paints, and
decorated in the middle with brushes
of every length and width, from the
wi(l»* implement, for covering back¬
grounds, to file tiny brush of filigree
possibilities.
No oils or grease are in evidence.
They aro excluded by law. Their
combustible nature makes them dan¬
gerous in a theatre, and every piece
of scenery that is used In the most
elaborate Broadway production must,
lio wrought in water-color. Occasion¬
ally a one-night-stand company tour¬
ing the remote south or west tumbles
over a few shabby, oil-painted canvases
that have eluded* the law or been
ignored by It, But tln*y never are
seen in a New York playhouse. Hap¬
py is the painter if his picture calls
for his favorite colors, There are
somo hues that fatigue tho worker
quickly and others that delight and
constantly refresh him. Rod irritates
somo artists; and strong blues and
greens are avoided by all through
force of habit. They do not wear well
under artificial light. Home of the
scenic artists paint all of their can¬
vases in the glow of electric light, but
others prefer the daylight, when it is
possible. The work that Is done by
Jay always looks well at night. But
the harmonies blended in electric light
may appear discordant when noon tide
'falls upon them.
Before he chooses his color-scheme,
the artist considers the tones of the
gowns that the “star” or leading wom¬
an will wear in the play, and lie guards
against any possible clashing. One
man had the experience of seeing a
first-night performance of a production
that ho had painted utterly marred
—for him at least—because th© her¬
oine, for whom he had prepared a su¬
perb yellow atmosphere, unexpectedly
came forth in a vivid pea-green gown.
' Perspective bo quite as disas¬
may
trous a reef between player and paint-
er as costume. A lighthouse stood in
the misty distance in another of this
same man’s stage-settings. One of the
chorus-boys wandered away from his
position in the picture and aimlessly
reached the lighthouse up-stage. As¬
suming a languid pose he rested ills
ann upon the top of tho structure, and
stood there, helplessly unconscious of
his crime. The artist’s only protection
against such blundering nomads is tho
building of substantial obstacles
around "distant" regions in the scene,
so that no player can approach them.
Another of the paihter’s difficulties
is the planning of his model so that it
may appeal to the eye of spectators In
extremely opposite sections of the
house. His work must be criticised by
the galiery gods and tho box parties
on both sides of the, house at the same
time If he pleases all he does only
what he Is expected to do, and his
name may not be noticed on the pro-
gram. if he offend any his scene is a
failure, although from some vantage-
points it may be apparently perfect in
form and color.
Lights thrown upon a scene have a
marked influence in transforming it,
and so the artist often relies upon this
department of stagecraft to perfect
the illusions that, his brush suggests.
Ho knows as much about the mechan¬
ism of fire-light, snowdrops, and thun¬
der as the practical stage-carpenter, or
property-man.
Snowflakes are not always salt, or
papei They have moved from their
old fashioned ways into a magical cir¬
cle, and are little white spots on dark
disks, which revolve so madly by elec¬
tricity that the effect of a blizzard is
produced in h moment at any place
decreed by the scenic-astronomer.
Forked lightning no longfer requlrfea
zigzag rents in a canvas, hack of which
vivid light, periodically is Hashed. It
is produced by stereopticon play.
Thero is no sheet-lightning—literally
speaking. But there is a thunder-sheet
and a thunder-chute. The tin thunder-
sheet is antiquated. The chute is per¬
ilously modern. Yet no one ever has
fallen from its open mouth. This cav¬
ity yawns directly under the roof, and
a property-man must make the ascent
to drop the cannon-balls Into the long
wooden tube. The chute runs In an
angular course around the stage, and
is provided inside with valves of iron,
against which the cannon-balls fall
when the storm is violent and sharp
reports of thunder aro needed.
Tho scenic-painter today must bo
almost as great an inventor and
mechanic as ho is an archa
eologist, architect, illustrator and
painter. He first receives tho
manuscript of tho play and ab¬
sorbs Its contents in one swift glance.
He sketches on paper his idea of the
scene, points, and mounts each piece
in the set on a miniature stage. Tho
result is the “model” which he submits
to the stage manager for suggestion
or approval. In tiiis small trial-picture
no detail is omitted. In a meadow
scene tiny wooden cattle were intro-
duced to simulate realism, And the
great artist often pauses In his paint¬
ing to build a diminutive bench witli a
block of g'ood and four nails or tack3
to serve for legs.
The good that scene-painters do sel¬
dom lives long after them. And their
actual income from the fabulous sums
that mangers spend every year in
productions is less than a favorite
“leading-man” receives, The money
plat ed at their disposal is unlimited
in planning a production, hut their
own compensation is seldom very
great. Out of this they pay the rent
of their studio (for all of the leading
scene-painters today are contractors)
and their assistants. Forty dollars a
week is the average remuneration of
assistants.—New York I’oet.
LIFT TRAINS UP A SLOPE.
Engineer* Have Worked Out a Novel
l inn for 11 Itullrond.
A gigantic enterprise is contemplat¬
ed by (he Gould or Wabash system on
tin* line of the West Virginia Central
railroad. Plans have been drawn by
which it is expected to lift whole trains
loaded with coal or merchandise up the
side of a precipitous slope of the Great
Backbone mountains, in Tucker coun¬
ty, West Virginia, by means of elec¬
tric power, and by that method make
a double track road with an easy down
grade both ways.
The plan, which Is said to have been
thoroughly (Worked out by the engi¬
neering corps of the railroad, is a most
remarkable one in many ways, says
The Baltimore American.
At present, this line, going westward,
after leaving Cumberland runs through
Keyset', Piedmont ’ and Fairfax, and
thus go into the Black water Canon,
where the scenery Is wild and magni¬
ficent, but where it is Impossible to
maintain more than one single track.
From Fairfax down on through this
deep gorge the road descends a steep
grade to Hendricks, and then makes
a detour of Parsons, and thence on up
a slight grade to Elkins. Thus it can
bo seen that there is a big handicap at
present, witn a one-track road through
the gorge and a tremendous grade com¬
ing east.
Tho operation of this great plat¬
form is, of course, a gigantic under¬
taking, but it is believed that it can
he successfully worked, The whole
would he operated by electric power.
To provide this power the large plant
of the railroad at Cokeland would ho
drawn upon.
The electric plant at that place at
present supplies electric, lighting and
power for a large territory and fur¬
nishes electricity for the mines. There
would he ample power, however, It is
said, to move the platform and its
freight up a sharp incline to a height
of about 1000 feet.
After leaving Elkins it is said that
the railroad promoters have in view
an extension from that point to what
is known as the Coal and Coke rail¬
road, along the Little Kanawha. This
will open a rich territory right through
the heart ot' tho bituminous coal re¬
gion. It will cut right through the
great Pittsburg 14-foot vein, where
thousands of acres of coal lands aro
owned by the railroad and kindred in¬
terests.
r.ndy Cur*nn'» Elephant.
Lady Curzon, too, has one distinc¬
tion that Is unique. Hue is the pos¬
sessor of more elephants than any
other Anglo-Saxon or European in the
world, for more than one of her dusky
admirers has sent her ladyship an cl -
pliant,, sometimes two. One of theso
is an immense creature with the kind
of wonderful sagacity about which wo
all read in school readers in the days
of our youth. Its unwieldy form, with
Lady Curzon in a white and gold how-
dah on its back, is often to be seen
in the native bazaars, and when t’tu
beast 6ees anything for which it ha.i
a fancy that article is ptomptly hand¬
ed up to its mistress, One day 1 lot
year he made her a very queer pres¬
ent. nothing less than a small brown
baby of 2 or 3 years old. It, was the
son of the great beast's keeper, and no
sooner did the elephant see it trotting
along with its mother than he seized
it gently and lifted it in the air. The
next moment Lady Curzon was gaz-
ing in astonishment upon a small
brown Baby clothed in a string of
beads. Needless to say it descended
a richer and happier baby.—London
Household Words.
A work of art generally results from
the art of work.