Newspaper Page Text
VOL. I.
* Where Summer Bides.
Down through the mountain’s silver haze,
Down through the song-thrilled wooded
ways.
And ’midst the meadow’s drenchod grass,
The feet of Summer swiftly pass.
“Stay! stay!” the yearning mountains cry,
“Stay! stay!" the drowsy grasses sigh
Hut on and on the sweet guest flies,
With wind-blown hair and wide still eyes,
On, on, until her eacrer feet
Abide amidst the yiflfow wheat.
— [Lucy E. Tilley in Harper's Weekly.
ONE IN A THOUSAND.
• BY MAY KENDALL.
It was a lovely May morning, a
morning on which even the life of an
omnibus conductor seemed endurable.
Besides, the particular company for
which Archy Johnston worked had
become infected by socialistic princi¬
ples, to the extent of only employing
their hands from 7 a. m. to 10 p. m.,
and giving them, as a rule, the alter¬
nate Sundays. So that, as things
went, lie might be considered well off
i Bettor off, at all events, than the
pale young man who, as Andy com¬
pleted his arrangements before start¬
ing, watched him, with a melancholy
air, from the curbstone. For this
palo young man, whoso name was
AVarner, by special permission of tho
company, to whom a benevolent cler¬
gyman had appealed on AVarner’s be¬
half, came every morning at 7 o’clock
to see if there was a conductor off
work, and, if (here was, to take his
place on the omnibus.
For the last month he had presented
himself regularly, and the men had
come to know and have a kindly feel¬
ing toward him; but iu that month lie
had only been on duty seven days.
This fact inevitably raised the ques¬
tion as to what AVarner did with hira-
self when no vacancies occurred. lie
did not look as if he did anything very
remunerative.
Archy’s omnibus started last, and lie
had two or three minutes to spare; so,
being a sociable young fellow, he
crossed over to speak to AVarner, who,
for his part, responded with an anx¬
ious good-will in which, if Archy had
known, there was a certain undercur¬
rent of penitence. The fact was,
AVarner had just been Blinking, as he
saw the omnibus roll away, and real¬
ized with a sigh that all men were on
duty—“AVliat if one of them were to
die, and lie were taken on as a per¬
manent hand?”
lie did not in any way appeal for
pity, and yet the few facts Archy drew
from him were an appeal to any one
conversant witli the city. He lived a
mile away, 24 Dilk street, an address
that lingered curiously in Archy’s
memory. He had been a carpenter,
and comfortably off; but now lie was
hopelessly out of work, and, with liis
wife and their young child, had been
living how he could.
“AVc feel it most, you see,” he said
in liis patient way, “for the child.”
Then lie checked himself, as if he had
said too much, and added quite hope¬
fully, “But it’s a long lane that lias no
tin-ping, isn’t it?”
No more passed between them just
then, for the conductor’s time was up.
But the next morning, as liis eyes
encountered the depressed-looking
figure, again, a sudden impulse seized
h in.
“Can you take my place today?” lie
said, accosting AVarner; “I’m awfully
anxious to have the day, but I can’t
risk getting sacked.
Warner’s face beamed. “I told
Janet tiiis morning,” lie said, as lie
followed Archy, “I’d a feeling I
should be in luck today.”
“It’s just here,” said Archy, staring
straight before him. “I’m thinking of
going down into Hie country for a day
—or two—or maybe more—I can’t ex¬
actly tell, not being on the spot, how
long I may require to stay. And it
would be a load off my mind to know
my place wouldn’t be snapped u;>.”
“I’ll keep it for you,” said AVarner
energetically, “and give it up to you
when you come back : for it’s a queer
thing, as I know, to bo thrown out of
work. And I’m sure I hope you’ll
have a pleasant journey, Beautiful
down in the country this time of year
ain't it? ”
“Ah!” said Archie. “A r os, the
country’s a fine place, especially, as
you say, about this time of the year.”
He grasped AVarner’s hand, and
turned away. After all, he had dona
nothing remarkable; and yet, such
was the serene benignity of his tone
and manner, that for a moment War¬
ner stood stock-still on the pavement,
staring after him.
Archy went back to his lodgings;
but he could not re%t there, and soon
he went out again. He found himself
wondering what AVarner’s wife and
child were like, and it struck him,that
as lie had nothing else to do, lie would
go round by Dilk street.
It was a small street of tiny, jerry-
THE ENTERPRISE
built houses, with their numbers in¬
scribed very legibly on the doors, so
that Archy had no difficulty in recog¬
nizing at. There was a brown blind
over tho lower half of the window;
but Archy’s tall head rose abovo it,
and as lie passod lie glanced furtively
in, as if it were a crime. It was a
small bare room, with no furniture
but a deal table, a box or two, and an
old rocking-chair drawn up to tho
hearth, whose lire had gone out. On
that ro.king-chair a girl was sitting,
with a baby in her arms, rocking
slowly to and fro, and singing wearily,
over and over again,
"There is not in the wide world a valley
so sweet.”
A mere girl she looked, but very
wasted, and her eliceks had not a tinge
of color; and yet it was ono of the
sweetest faces, Archy thought, that lie
had ever seen. If this was Warner’s
wife, perhaps lie was a lucky fellow
after all.
lie wondered if there was anything
to oat in the house. She did not look
as if there was. But, for the life of
him, he dared neither ask her, nor
order anything to be sent from tho
nearest provision dealer’s; and though
he thought of all kinds of expedients
for getting a shilling inside the door
that should look as if it belonged to
one of them, and had been mislaid,
none of them were feasible. If it bad
been dusk, lie thought, scanning the
water-spout with a critical eye, he
might have clambered on the roof and
dropped the shilling down the chim¬
ney. He was nearly as tall as the
house already, and he could climb like
a sailor. But it was broad daylight;
and at last—he had been lounging all
this time in front of a small grocer’s
shop close by—he turned away in de¬
spair, reflecting that, after all, AVarner
had had a day’s work on Monday, and
it was only Wednesday. lie would
go now into some other quarter of the
city, and look for work himself. For
work? AVell, vcs. It was hardly that
lie consciously made up his mind to do
so. But that was what he did.
It was a month later, and Archy
had not gone back to his old position.
Neither, however, had he found regu¬
lar work. If he had gone to the right
quarters, it may be said, of course, he
might have found it. Archy stood,
indeed, for a moment outside the
doors of the general relief committee,
but there the beautiful probability of
his story of having a place as omnibus
conductor that he had not been dis¬
missed from, and yet could not go
back to, owing to Laving heard a
white-faced girl through a window,
singing the “Meeting of the Waters”
—as related to a credulous relief com¬
mittee, struck him so forcibly that he
broke into a loud Jaugh as he turned
away.
But it was not a cheery laugh.
Though he had given up his old lodg¬
ing and been sleeping where he could,
the few pence lie contrived to earn
were not enough to keep him, and for
weeks lie had not had a h arty meal.
A dull despair was creeping over him;
but lie tramped blindly on, asking for
work, till be fancied that the officials
at different establishments were look¬
ing on him with suspicion, as one
whom iliey had refused before. And
all the time lie knew that lie might go
back to liis old place. Warner would
give it up without a murmur, or a
grudge; he was that kind of fellow.
Then lie fancied Warner going home
to tell his wife the news, and then lie
fell to wondering how they were get¬
ting on. He fancied lie would go and
see.
That day, when Warner’s omnibus
stopped at the end of the route, at 1
o’clock, every passenger had left it.
They had a quarter of an hour to wait,
and the driver slipped hastily across to
liis favorite public house, which was
conveniently situated. Warner looked
eagerly up and down the street, as if
expecting some one, but it was almost
deserted. There was a policeman a
little way down; there was a sliabby-
looking fellow standing at the corner,
against a lain o-post, with iiis hat
slouched over his eyes—no one else.
Warner's face fell, but it lightened
again in a moment, as a girlish figure
emerged from a street nearly opposite
and ran lightly across to the omnibus.
Warner held out bis hand and she
sprang in.
“Here it is,” she said proudly, un¬
packing the small basket, “You
can't guess what I’ve made you for
dinner today, and, if you eat it now, I
do believe it will be hot.”
“Meat pie, Janet!” said Warner.
“AVell, you are a cook ar.d no mis¬
take. I've twelve minutes—blest if
there ain’t that unfortunate old lady
who always comes a quarter of an
hour before we're timed to start.”
“She’s a long way off,” said Janet,
witli a look of disappointment. “Go
Oil with your pie, Will; she won’t be
licre yet awhile.”
“Very well then,” said AVarner rc-
CARNESV1LLE, GA., FRIDAY, AUGUST 22 . 1890.
luetantly. “Hang tho old girl—look
at her umbrella!”
They kissed each other hastily in
the omnibus, thinking that no one saw
them. Least of all, Hie aimless vaga¬
bond at the corner, with hat slouched
over liis eyes, who was looking at
nothing. He—all, no! Then Janet
sprang down again; and presently tho
old lady mounted tho step, and AVar¬
ner ate his meat pie furtively, botween
maintaining a conversation on tho
drink traffic, a subject in which bis
passenger seemed to take an absorbing
interest; but then slie had had her
lunch before she started.
Yet AVarner had also time to reflect
pleasantly on how much better Janet
was looking, and what a color she had,
and wondered also if the young man
who had gone into the country would
be back tomorrow, and couldn’t help
hoping- not. Then more passengers
entered, and the driver hurried back
at the last moment, stuffing a large
fragment of bread and butter into liis
pocket; and the omnibus rolled away
But that night, when AVarner re¬
turned to the smal! house in Dilk
street, he found a note thrust under
tho door, that no one had noticed. It
ran thus:
Dear Mr. AVarner : I leave this note iu
passing to say I have given up my place ns
conductor for good, and therefore hope you
will stick to it as long as it suits you. I
have made up my mind to stay down in the
country. Yours, with best wishes,
Archy Johnston.
Hens as an Aid to Peach liaising.
Level-headed farmers in Connecti¬
cut have for seve:al years past been at
work reviving an old industry—the
growing of peaches for market. Fifty
years ago Hie peach crop of the Nut¬
meg State was an important item, but
the trees ran out after a time, the
orchards were cut down, and apples
and other small fruits took their place.
After giving the land a long rest, the
industry was revived again about ten
or twelve years ago, and each succeed¬
ing year the peach premiums at the
several agricultural fairs has been in¬
creased in importance until they liavo
drawn out some of the finest samples
of the fruit raised north of Mason and
Dixon’s l.ne.
As to cultivation, there are as many
methods as there are individual grow¬
ers. The simplest was that practised
by AViliiam Platt of Newtown, a for¬
merly very successful grower, but
who is now an inmate of the Middle-
town Insane Retreat. Air. Platt used
to spade up a circle around each tree
of perhaps three feet in diameter.
Into this he planted or sowed very
sparingly corn, oats, buckwheat, and
other cereals. Then he turned liis
large flock of liens into the orchard
and let them scratch for their living.
He claimed that by this method lie
kept the earth about the roots of the
tree loose and easily permeable by-
rain and dew, and the liens, besides
gathering the corn and oats, acted as
insect and worm destroyers, keeping
the trunks of the trees free from bor¬
ers and other pests, which would oth¬
erwise have to be looked after with a
sharp eye. Air. Platt used to raise
peaches the size and flavor of which
gained him a wide fame.—[New York
Sun.
A Pat f?,°" ian ' ® MW I,0Ct0r , :
WI AA hen a child m Patagonia is sick, .
messenger is despatched for the doctor,
and , never leaves , him . . tint'1 .... becomes
with him. . As . soon ns .is. the doctor ar-
. , lie looks , , at ... the sick . - child, .... and .
rives,
then , with ... much . ceremonv rolls .. it
up in
a piece of skin. He then orders a clay
plaster, 1 and by tins time the child i-ii, lias
ceased , crying, . soothed by the warmth
of „ the , skin, and , so rendering still .... more
solid ., ins reputation . . .
ns a wise man.
Yellow . clay , is . brought , , and . made , into • ,
a thick , . , cream witli ... water, , and ... the
child is painted from head to foot ’
causing him to cry again. “The devil
is still there,” says the doctor sagely,
and undoes two mysterious packages lie
carries, one contains rhea sinews
(ostrich) and the other a rattle made
of stones in a gourd decoiatcd with
feathers.
He then fingers the sinews, nrittcr-
ing something for a few minutes, then
he seizes the rattle and shakes it vio-
lently, staring very hard at the crying
child. Then wraps it in the skin again
and it ceases crying. Again it is
painted, rattled at and stared at, and
again it cries. This is done four
times, and then the cure is considered
complete. The doctor leaves the child
quiet, enfolded in the warm skin, and
goes his way, having received two
pipefuls of tobacco as a fee. Strange
to say, the child generally recovers,
but it it does not, the doctor gets out
of the difficulty by declaring that the
parents did not keep the medicine
skin tightly around the child, aud so
let thc devil get back again. This is
the only treatment sick children in
Patagonia are ever known to receive.
— [Ladies’ Home Journal.
MEXICAN COOKERY.
The Dishes Are Appetizing, But
Too Highly Spiced.
Primitive Way of Making Tor¬
tillas, the National Bread.
Every Mexican’s yard almost lias an
oven, built out of earth and rock, half
under and half over tho ground; here
they bake their meats and some kind
of cakes, but their own bread is tortil¬
las. These aro made by an interesting
and peculiar process. The Indiau-corn
is boiled whole in water, into which a
little unslacked lime is thrown, until
the grain is tender. It is then taken
out, washed, put into clear cold water,
and allowed to soak all night. In the
morning it is drained dry and crushed
into flour between two stones—the
bottom one 1-ke a three-cornered tray-
on legs of uneven height, so that it
slopes downward; the upper, like a
rolling pin.
They place the tray upon the floor,
and kneeling, they mash and roll Hie
grain until it becomes u beautiful,
white, starchy flour, That is then
mixed with water into a paste, next
kneaded and flattened out between the
bands into broad, very thin cakes. In
the mean time the mesquite lire in the
corner of the jacal has burned into a
grand bed of coals; on this is thrown
a flat sheet of iron, which is soon hot.
Here the cakes arc placed, and brown
instantaneously; they are turned, and
in a minute are ready to be eaten.
They are good, too, but need salt, for
the Mexican mixes none of liis bread.
The Mexican of the lower class uses
neither fork nor spoon, but roils a
tortilla into a scoop, and so eats liis
chile con carne, frijoies, etc.
AVlien too much softened by the
gravy to take up the food, be eats liis
improvised spoon, takes another tor¬
tilla, and proceeds as before. They
sit on the floor to eat, putting the dish
of food in the middle of the circle,
and not in ono house out of six of the
lower order is there a table. They
are hospitable in the extreme, welcom¬
ing a perfect stranger to their homes
and offering him of their best.
The Mexican cooking, though Amer¬
icans have a prejudice against it, is
exceedingly appetizing, but for most
palates too highly peppered, chile en¬
tering largely into the composition of
every dish. Yet it is a rare good
feast one can have by ordering tho
following bill of fare:
Sopa dc Fideo.
Gallina eon Chile. Tamales.
Frijoies Mejicana. Knchiladas.
Chile con (Jarnc. Toitillas.
Salza dc Chile.
Pastel de Limon. Granadas de China.
Cafe.
Out in the street, on the sidewalk at
night, one finds here and there about
the town blazing fires, ami over them
sot g cat three-cornered pieces of iron
sheeting supported on legs. These
sheets have round places cut out of
them,and over these holes are tin cans,
tliei" contents boiling merrily.
Tamales aro cooking here, and the
Alexican woman who is tending them
looks like one of the witches in Alac-
beth, as she moves about in her short
red skirt with her black shawl about
her wrinkled brown face, while the
B fa „ g , l0r in „ (fnl
gleams, throwing ....... iter iigttre into
f now
broad re.icf, then , leasing . ... it shadow, ...
’ “ in
Behind her the open door cf , the jacal . ,
‘ '
shows a blazing ,, . lire within, ... and , on the ..
°
« 00r ; P'ny.ng , . ?>'«vcly .... ,n ho qu.vcrmg,
dancing light, many children of dtffer-
entliues; , . „ for, , be it known, , ... tins pco-
’
pie , , not moral and . faimlv . ..
1 is a one, ’ a "
of Mexican children .... may vary m . all
the shades between black and . white. ...
I his is, ’ lnen . enteudu, ’ of .. Hie lower .
orders.—[Harper . , Magazine.
s
p a , nfinff Blackened Eyes,
Thc othe|> day n)y attcIltiou was al¬
tracted by a gaudy sigI1 oVcr the door
of a tintype establishment, which set
forth the fact that ljla( . k eyes aud
bni ; geg worc painted and red noses
were made a natural color. 1 asked
the “facial artist” whether there was
much of a demand for liis services.
He said: “Yes; every day men or
boys come here with blackened eyes
and bruised faces. I never ask bow
any one is injured, but simply paint
the spot over witli a carefully mixed
paint. Professional fighters have come
to me after' a battle to fix them up
so as to appear to have received little
damage.”
“You may be surprised, but I have
had society women come here with
delicate skin colored to a rich purple.
Each hastens to explain t at her bruise
was caused by a fall, the dropping
of a trunk lid, or something of that
sort. They pay well. One richly-
dressed woman paid me a live-doilat-
bill lant week for a moment’s work.
In many cases 1 tun called to resi¬
dencies to touch up bruised faces.
Sitting Ball at the Telephone.
When an Indian can not explain a
thing on natural grounds lie attributed
^tho mystery to tho action of the Dicty.
it is tho Great Spirit’s doing. I well
remember Sitting Bull's introduction
to the telephone, writes Captain King
iii tho Courier-Journal. It wa% his
first visit to the States, and I was bid¬
den to St. Find to meet Hie old scheimr
in hopes of getting something out of
him about liis share in tho Custer
battle. Of this, however, he would
not talk, and I don't blame him, for is
soon transpired that lie ran away with
the squaws.
But wo lmd some fun out of him.
His nephew, Spotted Horn Bull, was
of the party. AVc seated him in a cer¬
tain office at .the telephone with an in¬
terpreter to show how to work it, and
then marched die old man several
blocks away to the Pioneer Press
building, and then asked him if lie
would not like to talk with “Spot.”
He smiled contemptuously when tho
elephone was pointed out to him, but
as the agent assured him it was no
joke lie was persuaded to ask some
question in tho Sioux language. Ho
did so with a shrug of his blanketed
shoulders and an incredulous grin on
liis face.
The next instant lie started as
though shocked; the ear trumpet
dropped from liis nerveless hand, and
lie almost fell out of liis chair.
“AVaukon!” was liis only explanation,
which might bo translated “Hie
devil! ’ Spotted Horn Bull had an¬
swered him in Sioux and nearly scared
die life out of him. lie would not
touch it again that night.
A Japanese ltoynl Progress.
A Japanese royal progress lias still
some novelty to European eyes. On
the occasion of a recent visit of tho
Empress of Japan to fho city of Osaka
tho following regulations were pub¬
lished “for (lie guidance of tin peo¬
ple” while her Majesty was passing:
“When her Ainjesty shall pass along
no one must look at her from the
frame built on houses for the drying
of clothes, or through cracks in doors,
or from any position in the upper por¬
tion of their houses. If anybody
wishes to see her Alaiesty lie or she
must sit down at the sides of the road
by which her Alajesty will pass. No
one must look at her Ainjesty without
taking off bis hat, neckcloth or turban,
or whatever else lie may be wearing
on or about liis head.
Moreover, no one must be smoking
while lie or she is looking at her Ma¬
jesty, nor must any one carry tt stick
or cane. Only women wearing for¬
eign clothes will be permitted to re¬
tain their head covering. Altli ugh it
may rain, no person will be allowed to
put up an umbrella while her Alajesty
may be passing. As her Majesty pass¬
es no one must raise liis voice, nor
must any sound be heard, nor must
the crowd close in and follow her car¬
riage; for no noise must be made.
When her Alajesty reaches Umeda
Station there will be a discharge of
fifty fireworks.”—[London News.
A Trout as a Bird Hunter.
“I was sitting on my front porch
Sunday mor..ing,” said Mr. Tift to a
reporter, “reading Hie News, when 1
was startled by a noise and fluttering
sound that came from Hie side yard.
I jumped and ran to the end of the
por h just in time to see what was the
matter, and 1 witnessed one of the
miracles of my life. I have in Hie
pool surrounding my fountain several
fish, trout taken from the creek, and
on the edges of the pool the grass
grows thick. An English sparrow
had alighted on the grass (o get some
water, and one of the fish seeing the
bird swam near him, made a snap and
caught him. The bird screamed and
fluttered, but it was too late. When I
reached the end of the porch the fish
swallowed the bird a id went swim¬
ming around tile pool in the most
satisfactory way.”—[Albany (Ga.)
News.
The World’s Railroads.
There are 300,000 miles of railroad
in the world, or enough to reach
around the world 14 1-2 times. There
are 104,000 locomotives; England lias
80 locomotives for every 100 miles of
road, while in the United States there
arc only 19 to every 100 miles. Thc
railroad capital of the world is estima¬
ted at $29,000,000,000. A good many
railroad companies are having their
freight cars equipped with air brakes.
Nearly all of them are ordering addi¬
tional locomotives.— [Chicago Sun.
A Bleak Prospect.
Bill Collector (authoritatively)—1
with to see Air. Neverpay imraediate-
ly.
Shrewd Servant—A’ou can’t see him
now. He’s gone to bed, so we can
wash liis flannel*.--[New York Week-
If-
UMLDKKN’8 COLUMN.
WE THREE.
He smears his face with honey,
He grubs at pnpa's money,
He’s awful cute and funny.
(He’s the baby.)
She sings like a canary,
She dances like a fairy,
Hor prattle's somewhat airy.
(She's my sister.)
He’s nothing but a bother,
He’s a trouble to his mother,
There’s nowhere such another.
(That is I, sir.)
— [Harper’s Young t’eople.
A HIGH SINGED.
Tho lark ascends until it looks no
ftrgcr than a midge, and can with
difficulty be seen by tho unaided eye,
and yet every note will bo clearly audi¬
ble to persons who are fully half a
mile from the nest over which the
bird utters its song. Moreover, it
never c ascs to sing for a moment, a
feat which seems wonderful to us
human beings, who find that a song of
six or seven minutes in length, though
interspersed with rests and pauses, is
more than trying. Even a practiced
public speaker, though lie can pause at
Hie end of each sentence finds the ap¬
plause of the audience a very welcome
relief. Moreover, the singer and
speaker need to use no exertion, save
exercising their voices, Yet the bird
will pour out a continuous song of
nearly twenty minutes in length, and
all the time lias to support itsolf in tho
air by the constant use of its wings.—
[The Naturalist.
A JOURNEY IN A “SCHOONER.”
“One summer, whoii Patty Afoss
was nine years old, she took a long
journey in a ‘schooner’ with her
parents, sister Mina and Baby Jake.
“Patty’s father went to find a new
home, ns lie declared the old farm
•wasn’t worth a tinker!’ How much
tlint was I cannot tell you.
“They took along a tiny stove, a
bed, a little table, ami provisions to
keep house on the way, besides Jake’s
cradle, boxes of clothing and a rocking-
chair.
“Patty’s father took liis team along,,
too, a little, long-necked, slim-tailed
mule and a big, rough, Itooky-Moun-
tain colt, with a short, stiff mane
standing up straight on his neck like a
ruff, and spots of white and red all over
liis sides.
“His neighbors called them the
‘Gander’ and the ‘Unicorn.’
“A cage of ducks and guinea-liens
was fastened to Hie back of the
‘schooner.’ So, too, were Dinah, the
cow, and Cliffy, a great, black, cross
hog. (Juffy’s rope ran through a ring
in liis long nose.”
“Why, Aunt Kitty! I should ’spect
they’d drown!” cried my niece, Lou.
“AVell, dear, I forgot to say that,
this was a dry-laud schooner—a
covered wagon, big enough for a
family to live in, which they use in the
West in journeying from place to
place. So you see, Cliffy and Dinah
had nothing to do but travel along as
the ‘schooner’ went.
“Dinah liked it well enough, for
she could snatch a mouthful of grass
now and til n from the near roadside.
“But Cliffy was sullen. He hung
back, but the ring in liis nose quickly
brought him to terms, though lie gal¬
loped along with liis black bristles
standing up straight with fury, liis
ears flapped wildly, and his tail had a
vicious quirk in it. His legs were
long and lie could have run a race witli
•lie ‘Unicorn’ himself—and beaten
him, too! He was full of mischief,
and pulled out the tails of nearly ail
the ducks through the cage bars. And
lie often nipped Dinah’s heels.
“One hot day there came up a terri¬
ble thunderstorm—almost a hurricane.
The ‘schooner’ lmd arrived near a
strip of timber, under the lea of which
it was drawn to wait (ill the storm
passed over.
“How dark (lie air grew! The
lightning leaped and the thunder
cracked and roared overhead, Thc
air was full of branches, torn by the
wind from the tree-tops. The family
crawled beneath the ‘schooner,’ expect¬
ing the strong gusts to carry them off
too, or do great damage. They did
Bwoop down behind the timber and
tear off the canvas schooner-top, whisk¬
ing it out of sight in a twinkling.
“Towards the last there came an
awful clap of thunder. It made the
‘Gander’ and the ‘Unicorn’ rear and
tug at their Halters. Dinah lowed and
sidled up closer to the ‘schooner,’ but
poor Cuffy, scared half to death,
jumped so high that he pulled tl e ring
out of liis nose and oft' lie scooted over
the prairie, squealing even above the
thunder peals.
“After the storm, Air. AIo.-s took
the ‘Unicorn’ and went off to find him,
bnt be had hidden himself in a ravine,
a mile or two away, and that was the
last of liim. But Jie found the
schooner-top and the journey was con¬
tinued without further mishap.”—
NO. 33.
Wild Flam.
Overhead is the hum
Of the wind in the gloom
Of tho sentinel pines;
And below the wild plum,
AVhere the slanting sun shines,
Hhovrs its snowy white bloom,
Flings its subtle perfume
On the breeze
To the bees.
How they hover around,
Tiny bandits and bold,
Making thefts honey-sweot
AVith a murmurous sound!
And the psyches they meet,
Little atoms of gold,
Join the frolic, and hold
Jubilee
Hound the tree.
AVhere is Mabf where is Puck?
is that Ariel sings
From the crest of you bough
That no mortal should pluck?
O but list to it now I—
Revellings, rapturing*;—
Then a glimmer of wings
And away
l.tke a ray.
Jlovr the bloom and the bslm
And the bee and the bird,
In the depth of tho wood.
To the heart tiring a calm,
To the spirit some good.
More than music or word!
Every fibre is stirred
By the bum,—
And the plum!
— [Clinton Scollard.
HUMdROUS.
An American biz-mark—$.
A clothes carriage—The laundry
tv agon.
Lives from hand to mouth—The
dentist.
Base hall men do not believe in
rough diamonds.
All plain sailing—Navigating a
prairie schooner.
' Hpinsterhood is often the flirt’s pun¬
ishment for contempt of court.
The trouble with Justice is that siio
does so little besides holding her
scales.
Sewing-circles are sometimes gath¬
erings whero dresses are sewed and
characters ripped.
Boston ladies attend base ball games
in largo numbers. They arc on the
lookout for a good catch.
Nothing suits a cross man more than
to find a button off his coat when his
wife has not time to sew it on.
A correspondent wants to know
“how long girls should be courted.”
On stilts, of course; short ones on
chairs.
Young Tom (who has come to ask
to be allowed to go fishing)—Now,
mamma, don’t say I can’t, because
you’ll just make me disobey you.
“ ‘Wanted — reliable men, 1 f) read
Mrs. Bascom from the advertising col¬
umns of Hie paper. Then she raised
her glasses upon her forehead, looked
severely nt her husband and remarked:
“And the world’ll wait a considerable
number of centuries yet before it gets
’em.”
Use Good Flour for Pastry.
Tho use of good pastry flour is a
matter more essential to the prepara¬
tion of perfect, puff paste or of tender
cake than anything else. Good cako
or puff paste which is a mass of deli¬
cate crisp layers cannot be made from
bread flour. Since the introduction
of the “patent roller” process in mill¬
ing, the best bread is made from spring
wheat grown in favorable sections of
Hie country. Pastry flour must bo
made from winter wheat, in order to
possess the requisite qualities. For a
long time after Hie introduction of
(ho patent roller winter wheat was
ground by the old process, and this
flour went by the name of “old pro¬
cess” flour.
All flour now is ground by the pa¬
tent roller; and by improvements in
(lie last fow years as much gluten, it is
said, is saved by this method as by the
old process. An excellent pastry flour
is made of pure winter wheat at St.
Louis and at Baltimore. There are
several brands of so-cal.ed pastry flour
in market, which are prepared from
spring wheat merely “softened,” as
the dealers term it, witli a little winter
wheat. This flour is offered as a com¬
promise and is recommended as good
for both bread and pastry. In point
of fact it is inferior for both uses.
Nothing shows the lack of “softness”
in the flour made of spring wheat so
quickly as cako. Bread flour makes
tough, dry cake.— [New York Trib¬
une.
Excused This Time.
Schoolmarm (with ominous look in
her eye): “AVhat made you so late,
Robert Reed?”
Robert: “Been rightin’.”
Schoolmarrn (advancing furiously):
(‘You have, eh?”
Robert: “Yes. ma'am: A boy sed
yerwtiz ugly as home-made sin. an’ I
jest give it to him.”
“Well, Bobby, dear, I’ll have to
pardon you this time, but control your
temper the best you can.—[Epoch.
