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VOL. I.
Know Flake*.
Where do they go,
The melting flukes of the bright, white
snow?
They goto nourish the April showers;
They go to foster the May-time flowers;
AVhere the roots of the hidden grasses grow,
There do they go.
How do they go’
Drop after drop, in a silent (low,
When the warm rain falls, and the winds
are loud,
And the swallow sing in the rifts of the
cloud,
Through the frozen reins of the earth be¬
low
They softly go.
Why do they go?
because Dame Nature will have it s
More than this, truly, T cannot tell;
I am neither a seer nor an oracle!
When all is answered, I only know,
That they come and go!
—Kate Putnam Osgood, in Wide Awake.
THANKFUL’S TRIALS.
“I’m sure," murmured Thankful
Pennvpacker, “I don’t know what to
do."
Thankful Pcnnypackor had come to
the far We it on what the facetious in¬
habitants of Blue Gulch would have
called “a wild-goose chase. ”
She was one of the great majority of
unemployed women iu the State of
Vermont, and her cousin, Sqirre Todd,
had heard from his nephew's wife, who
had a sister at Blue Gulch, that there
was a district school-teacher wanted
there.
“Chance for yru, ch, Thankful?”
said Mrs. Todd. “Better get off as
fast as ever you can, or it’ll bo snapped
up. Such positions don’t go a-begging
long.”
Thankful looked up with big, wist ful
eyes.
“It’s awful cold weather to go
Wost, isn’t it?” said she, a little tim-
idly.
“Oh, if you’re afraid of a little cold
wind and a snow flurry or two’” sai 1
Mrs. Todd, elevating her nose.
And Thankful packed her trunk at
once, and departed.
“Ain’t it rather barbarous, mother,”
said the squire, “to send the poor gal
way off West in such a blizzard as this
’ere?”
“Well, Joshua,’’said his helpmeet,
“she’s been here two good months now,
and we want her room for your Aunt
Eliza, that’s got money to leave some
day; and, besides, Dr. Lothair’s a-com¬
ing pretty soon to visit old Dector Jen¬
ningses’ folks next door, and it’s jest as
well to have Thankful Pennypacker out
of the way.”
Squire Tod i’s lower jaw dropped.
“Why?” said he, in amaziment.
*. 1 Why?" mimicked liis wife. “Well,
give me a man for solid thick-headed -
ness! Hain’t you got a darter of your
own, aud ain’t Thankful Pennypacker
a pretty gal, if she is past fivc-and-
twenty year? ’
“Oj, ” said the squire. ‘ M itchmak-
in\ eh?”
“Well, call it ryhat you please,” said
Mrs. Todd. “Anyhow, it’s time ElectTa
xvas settled in life, and it’s j;st ns well
lo have Thankful Pennypacker off some¬
where else.”
-But when the Vermont girl reached
Blue Gulch, old Mr. Wei dell, the chair¬
man of the board of trustees, professed
himself exceedingly sorry, but the po¬
sition had just been filled by a half sis¬
ter of his own.
“IVc always give Western girls
the preference.” said he.
So poor Tuankful went back to
“Squire Todd’s nephew’s xvifc ’9 sister,”
in a frame of mind widely different
from her name, and uttered tho piteous
sentence that heads our story.
The nephew’s wife’s shier was called
McCray—a stout, cheerful body, with
bright bine eyes and a double chin.
“I declare to goodness, Miss Penny-
packer,” said she. “1 feel sorry for
you, but I hain’t a minute’s time to
spare a-listenin’ to what Miles Wen-
deli said just now. Two o’ the China¬
men have gone, and Bridget won' t stir
into the dinin’-room as long as Wong
Sec is there. It’s strange how she and
the Chinese hate each other. And the
train is due in forty minutes, and
eighteen mealers have telegraphed
ahead.”
* Can’t I help you?” said Thank-
ful.
“You? Why, you’re an educated
lady,” said Mrs. McCray.
“That’s no reason I can’t cook a
fricasse, or bake a pumpkin-pie,” said
Thankful, smiling in spite of her
troubles. “And I have no especial
prejudice against Wong S-«; so I’d as
socp go into the dining-room and see
to the tables as not.”
“Well, I’d be mortal obliged to you
if you would,” said Mrs. McCray,
with a great sigh of relief, “Here’s
me o’ my big white It itclien aprons to
lie over your black serge die s, to it
won’t be spiled; and yen’ll find Wong
See very teachable and docile.”
So that Miss Pennypacker was flying
3rouni presently in the nca‘, cool
rooms of the railway restaurant, where
THE ENTERPRISE
long tables, draped whith white, were
decorated with evorgroan and holly-
berrios, and tho glass and crockery,
albeit of tho coarsest, was sparkling
and cloan.
The B’uo Gulch meal station, as Mrs.
McCray told Thankful, was celebrated
all along the line for its pigeon-pies,
its toothsome W 11 IH 53 , and its dainty
bits of home-made cookery.
“And now you’re hero to sort 0 ’ keep
Wong See straightened up,’’said she; “1
cau give my whole miud to the waffles.”
A keen wind howling down the rail¬
way cut; a cloud of drifting suOw,
sharper lhan needles and pins; and
then the shriek of tho train. Wong
See adjusted his clean white tunic and
rubbed his han.Is.
“Supper allcc re.idec, ” said lie.
“MisseeCray she got wall!) all cookee.’’
“Oeh, the hay then Chinee 1’’ said
Bridget, m her deu behind the tea and
coffee holder, as she scowled uuut-
terablo things at tho smiling Celestial.
The passengeis rushed with one ac¬
cord for the warm, cozy, savory-smelt¬
ing dining-room, for the fame of the
Blue Gulch waffles had penetrated far
and wide—when all of a su Iden there
was an exclamation, a pause, a confu¬
sion.
“What is it?" said Thankful, who,
with swift hands, was carrying tea and
coffee this way and that.
• “A gentleman has slipped on tho icy
car step,” said Mrs. McCray, “i
reckon likely he's broke his leg or arm
or something. Here, Miss Pennypacker;
you cernc to the wnffli-irons. I'll j 1 st
stop and see what tho trouble is. Mc-
Cray ain’t never on hand at an emer¬
gency.”
When the train had gone, the hurt
passenger lay in a little white- curtained
room up stairs.
Doctor Felloe hail set -his broken
arm and bandaged liis sprained ankle.
“If you have moderately good luck, ’
said he, “you r.ced not he detained
more than two or three weeks. And
the people here are very kindly and re¬
spectable. They’ll make you fairly
comfortable, you’ll find. ’’
The wayfarer uttered a groan, but
there was no appeal. 0:i all the earth
there is no autocrat like a country doc-
tor.
Mrs. McCray was k'n I and motherly.
Wong See, with his little almond-
shaped eyes and perpetual smile, proved
to be a capital nurse; and after a little
the patient got mod to his captivity.
“Who is that I hear singing down
sfairs at times? ’ he asked, one day.
“Well,” said Mrs. McC.ay, “it’s our
Bridget. Docs she disturb you? She
will keep singing ‘Nora, My Nora,’ say
what you will, and—”
“No, it isn’t that howl,” said the
siek man, with a shu Ider. “It’s some
one singing bits out of tho ‘Trovatore’
—little sweet trills and runs like a
nightingale.”
“Oh!" said Mrs. McCray. “Ireckon
that’s Thankful.”
“And who is Thankful?”
“Mss Pennypacker. My sister’s
husband’s uncle's cousin, that came all
the way from tho State o’ Vermont to
teach deestrick school, and when she
got here another woman gobbled it up
—'.ho sitooatiou, I mean.”
“Oh!" said the invalid. “Yes,
thank you, Mrs. McCray! If j on’ 11 put
the lemonade pitcher on the fable, I
can roach it myself.”
The big Michigan ro9o on the porch
of the Todd farmhouse was all in blos¬
som when Doctor Lothair came at last
to make the long-promised visit to his
friend, Doctor Jennings.
“But it ain’t no use!” sighed Mrs.
Todd to Elec ra, her daughter. “He’s
brung a wife with him, I’m told—a
bride all the way from Dakota Turri-
tory.”
“Humph!” said disappointed Elec¬
tro. “A regu ar wild Indian, I guess.
But, for all that, I’m sort o’ curious to
see her. Let’s go in to night, mother,
when they're through tea.”
So Mrs. Todd and flic squire donned
their best clothes, and E ectm put on
her newest set of fish-scale jewelry,
and they all trudged over to “Jen¬
ningses’ heuse, ” when the sun had set
and the whip-poor-wills began to sing.
“Why, ma, look there! ’ saldElic-
tra. “It’s cousin Thankful, sure's
you’re born, settin’ on tho piazzy,
and—■’’
“No, it ain’t!" said Mrs. Todd.
“Yes, it is! Why, how on airth come
she here? ’
Thankful came running down the
steps.
“Well, I declare!” sail Mrs. Tedi,
secretly planning within herself how
to avoid inviting Thankful to tho
house. “The fur West seems to Lev
agreed with you. Mercy, how red
ypur creeks be! S’pose you took ad¬
vantage of the chance to come back
East with Doctor Lothair an .1 the bride.
Where is she?
“The bride?" Thank ful’s check*
wero redder than ever. “Ob, didn’t
you know? Iamthebr.de!
CARNESYILLE, GA., MONDAY, MARCH 10.1SD0.
“You!” echoed Mrs. Todd.
“Yes. Come in and I'll introduce
you to my husband."
Prosy old Doctor Jennings treated
tho visitors to a long account of the
wholo thing—from Doctor Lothnir’s
accident at Blue Gulch to the wedding,
where Wong Soo wuitod, and Mr*.
McCray cooked tho gamo and entrees.
It was quite a romance, he declared.
And Squiro Todd stopped on the
way homo to indulge in a hearty laugh.
“To think,” said he, ‘ 'what a mortal
hurry you was iu to get Thankful out
of tho way of this very man, so’l
Elcctra could hov a clear chance.”
1 Judge Todd,” snapped his wife,
“you shouldn't laugh out so lou l and
coarse! It’s dreadful vulgar 1'’— Satur¬
day Ni/jht.
Substantial Handshakings.
It was years since, in the Ozark re.
gion, where I was riding a circuit, that
I saw a minister enjoy a most substan¬
tial handshaking, says a writer in the
St. Louis G leh:-Democrat. Shaking
hands was his peculiarity. He believed
in the potency of cordial grasp to win
men to (ho church, and though success
ful iu winning souls ho was very unfor¬
tunate in the matter of getting dollars.
In fact poverty continually stared him
in tho face. He owned a little farm
nnd mortgaged it as long as it would
yield a dollar. Tho mortgages were
failing due, but (here was no prospec)
of paying them. But it did not bothef
him a bit. He shook hands mori
heartily than ever.
“I have unbounded faith in hand¬
shaking to Iring everything out right,"
he often said, until his penchant came
to be the talk of the town. At last
came the day whoa the mortgages mint
bo foreclosed that would deprive him
of tho litle homo that sheltered lib fam-
»y-
On the eve of that day a knock at
the door of his house, which was a lit¬
tle way from town, cnlled h.ni. When
ha opened the door a whole crowd
rushed in, and, without saying a word,
commenced shaking hands, lie felt
something cold in the palm of the first
man, and when the hand was w ithdrawn
itstuek to his own. “That b the most
substanlial shake I ever experienced,”
he said, as he held up a $5 gold piece.
But the next man stepped up and a sil¬
ver dollar was left in the preacher's
palm. No ono would say a word in
explanation, but pressed in on him as
fast as lie ccu'd stick the metal and
bills info liis pocket. The house was
not large enough for the visitors, each
one of whom deposited from $1 to $10
in the outstretched hand. Each left
The moment his little errand was accom¬
plished, and not a word could be had
in explanation, except the last one,
who, as he turned to go, remarked:
“We wanted to play a little joke on
you, and we have.” Tho several
“jokes" netted just $871. His home
was saved and a neat balance was left
besides. The minister maintained that
lie had contracted a habit that night
that for a year afterward, when ho
shook a hand, prompted him to look
into his own palm, half expecting to
see apiece of metal there.
True to His Trust.
In the pioneer period th3 bankers of
Helena, Montana, thought nothing of
sen ling $1,000,000 worth of gold dust
by the freighting wagons across tho
couutry 200 miles to Ft. Benton for
shipment by river. Tney intrusted tho
treasure to acqu lintances who chanced
to be miking the trip, exietod no
bond and felt no anxiety. The mil*
lions went through safely, although the
boundary of the British dominions is
temptingly near part of tho route to
Ft. Benton. B inker Hershfield of
Helena te'ls an in'eresting story of a
mm by whom he once sent $150,000 in
gold dust from Helena. Tuo dust was
put in the pocket of a jacket, which
was worn next to the body. The man
who carried the treasure was only a
casual acquaintance of the banker.
Two or three days out from Helena the
stago by which the trip was being made
mit with an accident. It rollci down
a hill tide, and the treasure cirrier was
badly hut. Several of his rit>3
were broken. He was taken to a cabin,
and there he lay m agony, with the
dust still fastened about him, positively
refusing to let it be removed until Mr*
Hershfield could be sent for aud tbo
trust could be returned to his bauds.
Men may not be more hone3t in Mon¬
tana than elsewhere, but it is a fact
that thefts of bullion have been of raro
occurrence. — Globs D. nwerat.
Tit for Tat.
Mr. Younger (meeting Miss Winters
on tho street)—Why, how do you
do?
M ss Winters (with a cold stare)—
You have evidently made a mistake,
sir?
Mr. Younger—I beg a thousand
pardon:—I mistook you for yout
mother. — Epoch,
A TERRIBLE ORDEAL
A Hunter in the Grasp of a
Huge Grizzly Bear.
He Lies Still While the Brute
Mangles His 0ody.
Thcro were two Amoricaus in the
Santa Clara Valley of California at an
early (lay—brothers—name l Howard
and Michael Overnckor. They owned
largo farms, had a wide acquaintance
aud wore very popular. They wero
also the best rifle-shots ‘and tho most
cool and successful hunters in the
county. I have seen M chaoi, at a
lurkoy-match, kill his b rd at 000 yards.
They used to kdl wild goose, coyotes,
mouataiu quail, nnd liuro on the run
with thoir Ileury r.flo'. Still, though
they had shot hundreds of deer, antelope
and elk, they never went grizzly limit¬
ing. At list, in 1868, in tho Ban
Benito mountains, Howard Overackor
had his bear adventure, and tho details
aro very characteristic of tho habits of
the grizzly.
The elder Overacker was then in the
prime of iiLi, extremely strong, wiry,
lean and quick in his motions, liis
brother and a man named Fqrguion
formed tho rest of the party. They
left camp an l separated, taking nearly
parallel ravines. Howard was slowly
working liis way through the douse,
thorny bushes, called by Californians
chapparal, when ho suddenly.camo upon
a largo and old grizzly at close quarters.
Tho animal was less than twenty foot
distant,, and at once, with a roar of
rage, threw himself upon Overaeker.
The hunter, with that marvellous
rapidity which such men acquire, put a
bullet into his foe, threw out tho shell
and ha I pumped another cartridge into '
the rifle when the gimt of the wilder¬
ness struck him. The blow delivered
with the light paw struck him on the
face and neck, hurled (he gun into the
hushes, and felled him to tho ground.
The grizzly instantly cnight him in
three pine is—one paw over tho ribs,
breaking two, aud tearing thorn loose;
the other paw on the ankles, ripping
and crushing the flish; the teitii nnd
j iws closed on the thigh, mangling the
flesh and tearing it from the bone.
Oveiacker, though perfectly conscious,
lay Without a motion through this
terrific assault.
The bear suddenly got his hold on
the thigh, and caught Overacker by
tho shoulder, breaking aud crushing
the bones together. From the time
when ho rose against the man to the
time when he dropped him a bundle of
broken bones and torn flesh, the grizzly
had seemingly put forth oua tremen¬
dous effort. Overacker said afterward I 10
was no stronger in tho bear’s graip than
a cat would be in bis own. The b nr
left him a moment, walked about in a
circle, returned suddenly and bit pieces
of flesh as large a marble from various
parts of Overnckor’s body, and thru
took his final departure.
Overnckcr, a fow minutes later,
seized tho branches ovorhead aud strug¬
gled to his feet, but, to mo his own
phrase, “all turned black,” and liis
companions found him half an hour
later. For weeks he was not expected
to live, but his w ife’s nursing and his
magnificent constitution pulled him
through. Two years later Ovorackcr
returned to tho same region and shot
two large grizzlies without any assist¬
ance. Oie of them received eight
Henry rifle bullets before he succumbed.
This little sacrifice to his vanity being
accomplished, he hunts 110 more bears,
and even diicouragos tho light-minded
sneer at the California grizzly. 1 asked
the veteran whether lie would have used
a bowio if he had had it while in the
grip of tho forest king. Ovcracker
smiled grimly; “It was a very large
bear—as large as an ox. If Joha Sul¬
livan had been in my place, and had
driven a bowie through the bear’s heart
ho would have been killed in the death
struggle. As for a revolver, it would
have been suicide to have trie! it. B it
if tho bear had been fifty feet off when
I saw him, instead of twenty feet, I
could have kept out of the way long
enough to kill him.”— N. Y. Post.
Both Worked Hard.
own—Yon wouldn't be so extrava¬
gant if you know how hard I have to
work for my money.
Mrs. Brown—And ifyouoaly stopped
to think, you wouldn't say such a tiling.
Just see how hard I had to work to get
the bonnet you complain about. Why,
I had to visit about a hundred stores
before I could find one fo suit me.—
Epoch.
In Innninent Hanger.
Jenny—Hero comes Jack, auntie, I
wish you would como down and stay in j
the room. ; !
Auntie—Why?
Jenny—I’m afraid hb is going to pro¬
pose, and I can’t trust myself—be looks
10 pcsr aud ro handsome.
Buffaloes as Pets.
Mr. Uornaday places tho buffalo v<vy
low, indeed, in tho standard of mental
cupacity, and makes this stupidity tho
cause of liis exlermiuutiou. lint if the
monarch of the plains lacked intellect,
he certainly did not waut for affection.
The manner in which tho bull buffalo
protected the calves of tho herd is a
glorious cxamplo of pntornnl instinct.
A 11 army surgeon rclnted tho following
instance to Mr. Hornaday: “lie w
in camp ono evening when his attention
was arretted by tho curious action of a
little knot of six or eight buffaloes.
Approaching sufficiently near to sec
clearly, he discovered that this little
kuot was made up of bulls, standing in
a close circle, with heads outward,
whilo in a concentric circle, at some 12
or 15 paces distant, sat at least a dozen
large grey wolves ( xcopting man, the
most dangerous enemy of tho buffalo).
Tho doctor determined to watch the
performance. After a few moiuonts
tho knot broke up, and still keeping in
a compact mass, started on a trot for
the main herd, sonio half a m le off.
To his very great astonishment, tho
doctor now saw that tho cetiiral and
controlling figure of this mass was a
poor little calf, so newly born ns
scarcely to bo able to walk. After
going 50 or 100 paces tho calf laid
down, tho bulls disposed themselves in
a circle as before, and the wolves who
had trotted along on each sido of their
retreating supper, sat (Iowa and licked
their chops aga’u, ami though the
doctor did not see tho liualo, it being
late aud the camp distant, he had uo
doubt that tho noble fathers did their
whole duty to their offspring, and
carried it safely to the herd.” The
buffalo, if taken when young, submits
with surprising readiness to the re¬
straints of captivity. Mr. Hornaday
declares buffalo calves make excellent
pets .—Pittsburg Dispatch. _
Where Meerschaum is Found.
Bo far as known, meerschaum is
found in uo other part of the world
than tho pretty little village of Eskis-
chia, in Asiatic Turkey. The compo¬
nent parts of meerschaum are said to be
magnesia, silex and flint, and some¬
times traces of iron, earth nnd other
minerals aro found in it. Once upon a
time it was death to the Christians to
go near tho mines, which go under
ground some thirty feet, and are aired
aud kept dry by a windmill. The
Turks do uot believe iu rcproductiou
nor in flooding the market, and prices
never como down, hut generally have
an upward tendency whenever the
government needs a larger supply oi
funds, for tho greatest expense iu min.
ing tho production is tho faxes of tho
government, The indolent natives
mine for a couple of hours or so and
then lie off in the sun with thoir coffee
and tobacco. With a knife they scrapo
off the earth from tho lump of meer¬
schaum; then they fake the oily leaf of
a tree which grows in the vicinity and
rub tile lump smooth and give it some¬
thing of a polish. In this condition it
is sold to the merchant.
A material very much hke meerschaum
is found in BpRin nnd tlio United
Slates, but it bears no comparison with
tho Turkish meerschaum, The imi-
tat ion meerschaum comes from the
chips and shavings of the genuine arti¬
cle. They are first giound or mashed
into a pulp and then mixed with some
binding chemicals so as to keop the
molecules together. Tho imitation can¬
not retain the oil of lobacco nnd usu¬
ally cracks when filled with nicotine.
A Split Gold Coin.
“Two tens for a Iwonty, please,”
said a gentleman to tho cashier in tho
county treasurer’s office.
The cashier took the “tweuty” aud
raug it on the counter. It had that pe¬
culiar dull ring that characterizes co in-
terfeit coins. lie rung it a second
time, aud then inspected it critically.
“Is it bogus?" asked tho owner of
the coin.
“Oil, uo,” answered tho cashier;
“it’s good as wheat, but split.”
Continuing, he said: “Tout is tho
first split $20 I ever ran across, Tho
stamping machine at the mint some¬
times comes down too hard on the
coins and splits them; but it is soldom
the larger coin* split. It’s mostly
'fives’ that suffer. But they are very
careful at the mint, and stop every split
coin they detect. Now, in the thou¬
sands of dollars handled here every
year, 1 rarely find a split coin. 1 don't
think I’ve found more than four or five
in a year, and, as I say, the coins were
mostly $5 pieces.”
The split $20 looked perfect, and, so
fa. as the eye Could detect, bore nc
flew of any kind. The only fault with
it was in the “ring,” and the split
made it sound “dead" when thrown on
(he counter.
Almost every man takes liis day off,
but we never hoard of him bringing it
beck sgain.
FOR TH£ HOUSEWIFE.
WASHING HILk HANDKERCHIEFS.
Silk haudkerchiofs are ruined by
curoloss washing,such as they aro likely
to got if put into the gouer.il wash. It
is bettor to do them up by thcmsolvos.
Thoy should bo washod in lukowarm
water, nnd rinsed two or three times in
oloar, cold water, without blue. Wring
them out, fold and roil them tightly in
a cloth, but do not let them got dry
before ironing, or they will never look
smooth. Colored silk handkerchiefs
should be washod with fine, white soap
—never with strong, yellow soap.—■
Clothier and Furnisher.
BAND HAGS a lll.KRSTNO.
The send bag is invaluable in the
sick room. Gn. somo clean, fine sand,
dry it thoroughly in a kottlo on the
stove. Make a bag about eight iuchos
square of flannel, fill it with dry saud,
sew the opening carefully together aud
cover tho bng wi-h cottou or linen.
This will prevent tlio sand from sifting
out, and will also enable you to heat
the bag quickly by placing iu tho oven
or even on top of tho stove, After
once using this you will never again
attempt to warm tho feet or hands of a
sick person with a liottio of hot water
or a brick. Tho sand holds the heat a
long timo, and the bag can bo tucked
up to tho hack without hurtiug the in¬
valid. It is a good plan to make two
or three of tho bags aud keop them on
hand, ready for use at any timo when
needed .—New Yor’i Herald.
MARKINO TUB I.tNEN.
It goci almost without saying that
the marking of tnblo and bad linen is a
most important item. How it b to be
done remains, of course, a matter of
tasto, for tho varieties are legion, from
marking-ink nnd colored cross-stitch,
to the daintiest of embroidery stitches.
Somo peoplo liavo a happy knack ot
writing or printing with exquisite neat¬
ness nnd grace with common marking-
ink. For those who are not so fortunate
it may ho advisable to invest in a thin
stencil plate or stamp, which is inex¬
pensive nnd easy to use. Always do
the marking in the same corner and iu
tho same direction, and in tho
matter of ink, use tho best. Unless
linen is to go through tho hands
of a line laundress it is bet¬
ter to have it quite simplo. Frills are
very pretty when new, but thoy aro a
great deni of trouble, and bad fluting
is disastrous to them. Nothing cau ho
prettier than tho open hemstichcJ pat¬
terns so fashionable juit now. Even
the very simp'est produce a good effect;
the conr.ser linen, such as tea-cloths,
etc., can be improved by drawing out
some threads and running with fast-
dye colored threads. It is oasy, with a
fair amount of taste, to make the
most mod jst store of linen look well,
and uothing is so pleasing and com¬
forting iu a home. The linen cupboard
will be very attractive if each pilo of
tilings, such as pillow-cases, doilies,
afternoon tea, sideboard nnd tray
cloths and napkins, is tied up with
colored ribbons or tapc3 .—New Yor’i
World.
RECIPES.
Breakfast Cakes—O 10 pint of flour,
one pint of water and two eggs. Take
half the water and stir In part of the
flour to prevent lumping, then as it
thickens add tlio rest of tho water and
flour. Beat the eggs thoroughly and
add last w.th a small pttch of salt.
The pans must be very hot and the oven
quick.
Boilod Macaroni with Sauce—Break
onc-quartcr of a pound of macaroni into
convenient lengths, throw into pleuty
of boiling, salted water; boil rapidly
25 minutes; when done drain in a col¬
ander, then stand in a pan of cold
water for 15 .minutes. Make a plain
tomato sauce, carefully add the maca¬
roni, let it boi! up once and serve.
Sweet Potato Souffler—Boil until ten.
dor a quantity of sweet potatoes; when
done remove the skins and press through
a colander; add a gill of hot cream for
every quart bowlful of the mashed po¬
tatoes. a tablespoonful of meltod butter
and salt and popper to taste; beat until
very- light and add tho beaten whites of
three cggs, stirring them in very light¬
ly. Pour iuto a baking dish and brown
in a quick oven.
To Prepare Sweet-Breads—Veal
sweet-breads aro best. They will not
keep long. Soak them at onco in cold
water for about one hour; then parboil
them (about fifteen minutes) iu salted,
boiling water, after which put them
into cold water again for a few min¬
utes. This will make them firm and
white. Remove tho skin and little
pipes, and put them in a very cool place
until ready to cook them again.
It is said in Paris that old topers and
those accustomed to alcoholic stimulants
were the least affected by the influenza,
while tho strictly temperate suffered the
most.
NO. 10.
AlITlf* Xntw.
Where lies the land to which the (hip would
go?
Far, far ahead, is ail her seamen know;
Aud where the laud she travels from’
Away,
Far, far behind, is all that they can say.
On sunny noons upon the deck’s smooth
face,
Linked arm i i arm. how pleasant hereto
pace;
Or o'er the stern reclining, watch below
The foaming wake far widening as we go.
On stormy nights, when wild northwesters
rave,
How proud a thing to tight with wind and
wave!
The dripping sailor on the reeling mast
Exults to bear, and scorns to wish it past.
Where lies the land to which the ship
would go?
Far, far ahead, is all her seamen know;
And where the land she travels from?
A way,
Far, far behind is all that they can say.
—Arthur Hugh Clough.
HUMOROUS.
A weather report— thunder.
A “boil’ ’ on the stovo is worth two
on tho neck.
The tailor trade is a, fitting occupa¬
tion for anybody.
Patti’s lowest notes reach as high as
$4000 every night.
A good many peoplo speak as they
pass by who had better keop still unless
they can say more pleasant things.
lie—IVhat did your father say when
you told him that wo were engaged?
She—Oh, Augustus, you must not ask
mo to repeat such language!
Clerk—I want an increase of salary.
Employer (wearily)—All right. Any
thing olso? Cierk—And I want to get
off an hour earlier every day, so I can
spend it.
Lawyer—Your uncle in ikes you his
solo lioir; lut iho will stipulates that
the sum of one thousand dollars must
bo buried with him. lioir—(feelingly)
—Tho old man was eccentric; but his
wishes must lie respectel, of course.
I'll write a check for that amount.
Auxioiu Wife—Doctor, how is my
husband? Doctor—He will come
around all right. What I 10 needs now
is quiet. I have here a couple of opi¬
ates. “When shall I give them to
him?” “Give them to him? They are
for you, madam. Your husLmud needs
rest.”
• Functions of the (Jocoanut.
In the arts and economics of South
Sea Island life, the first place is taken
by the feathered cecoanut which lines
the white sand of the beach or nestles
in the gorges of tho precipitous moun¬
tain sides. Polynesia knows no want,
cau almost conceive of no luxury, with -
out the provinewbf the eoconnut to be¬
stow. At onco food and drink, it builds
the islander his home aud canoe; for
oue it aids the dutch aud for tho oth¬
er the sail and rigging; it clothes him
and provid --a him baskets ia which to
carry his food; it makes him an armor
that will turn tho sharpest arrow and
the keenest spear; cradled in the feath¬
ery leaves as a babe, fed and homed
and clothed and equipped for war from
it as a man, at death he return* again to
his cradle of infancy and is buried in a
leaf. It is the characteristic feature of
every view, tho centre of all histories
and the ornament of every talc, Bath-
ing its roots in (he sait sea, it lines
every bench with tapering trunks that
never grow straight skyward, as if they
had been designed by their leaning and
step-like leaf scars tn make it all the
easier for the indolent islander to climb
for his natural food. Securely wrapped
in its fibrous husk it floats unbarim d
through leagues of stormy sea3 and grows
on any sniidy islet where the rain never
falls to hem timo the support of whole
communities who know uot tho taste of
fresh water. About the feathery plumes
of this tree of great resource group afj
the essentials of an island life. — N. Y.
Herald.
Lucky He was in Debt
“1 always laugh,” relates an old resi¬
dent, “when I remember an experience
I had when a boy. 1 lived iu tho coun¬
try, and one day another boy and my¬
self had occasion to go to town. Ho
owed me 50 cents, and was to pay me
when we reached town, where he in¬
tended to get change for $1. In go¬
ing to town we had to cross a ctcek.
It was early in winter, and the ico was
strong enough to hold me, but he was
a great deal heavier, and in following
me he broke through. He at onco be¬
gan to yell and scramble for dear life.
The water was quite deep and he was
in considerable danger. I worked with
might and main for fifteen or twenty
minutes and finally succeeded in pulling
him out.
• By Jove,’’ I exclaimed, as I puffed
and panted after my exertion, “it was a
prc-ity tough job getting you out of that
creek.”
“Yes, gosh blame it,” ho replied,
“and you wouldn’t have done it ijf £
hadn’t owed you 50 cents.”