Newspaper Page Text
She Pickett* Cotmtg fctdfo
W. B. MINCEY, Editor.
YOU. II.
Three times ns much coal as ever be¬
fore wus imported into St. Petersburg
last year, and a Russian Government com¬
mission is investigating the Russian
mines to find out what ails them.
It is always pleasant, observes the De¬
troit Free Press, to see things done in n
business-like way. A Philadelphia law¬
yer collected a claim of $1500 for a
client, made a charge of $400 for his ser¬
vices and then embezzled the remainder.
An ordinary man of dishonest inclina¬
tions would have stolen the $1500 out¬
right. _
The Shah of Persia is, it is reported,
looking forward with much eagerness to
his advent iu England. His desire is not
so much to undergo tho boredom of fes¬
tivals, balls and dinners, of which ho had
anough to satisfy any reasonable Shah
when he visited Queen Victoria some
years ago, as it is to witness some first-
class English horse races. lie was ex¬
pected to reach London in time to attend
the Ascot races.
The latest Government returns show
that tho public debt of the Canadian
Dominion is now $286,575,055, of which
§188,713,035 is payable in England. The
interest upon the enormous debt has to
be sent across the Atlantic every year and
is a serious drain upon the country’s
monetary resources. Yet the legisla¬
tion of the last session of the Federal
Parliament pledged the country to the
expenditure of over $57,000,000, and
next year’s revenue will not exceed $36,-
000,000, thus leaving $21,000,000 to be
borrowed. The annual interest upon the
Dominian debt is now about $13,000,000.
The total revenue from customs aud
excise twenty years ago was only $11,-
112,573._
When the history of the Panama Canal
Company is written it will include many
stories of extravagance such as one must
go back to the time of Rome in,its de¬
cadence to parallel. One of the most
characteristic instances of wastefulness
was furnished by the General Superin¬
tendent, at Panama. He spent $300,000
on a fine house and nearly as much in
opening up tine roads so that his wife
might take horseback rides. She died in
about two years, and to signalize his
grief over her loss he had all the thor¬
oughbred horses shot which she had used
in riding and driving. This imitation of
the great Alexander didn’t cost the
mourner anything, however, as tho horses
all belonged to the company, and their
loss was charged to the inexorable
climate.
The present forces of enlisted men in
the United States Navy aggregates 8500
men. It is the opinion of Commodore
Schley that a force of 15,000 men, or
nearly 7000 additional, will be required
to equip tho vessels already authorized by
Congress. It is more than likely that an
effort will be made to secure some sort of
provision for these enlisted men in the
Navy, so that the Government can com¬
mand the very best type of manhood for
its sailors. The officers are already pro¬
vided for by the retired list. The last
Congress arranged the saving-bank
system, so that the money which was re¬
tained from the sailors until they were
finally paid off could be deposited with
the paymaster, and would draw four pel
cent, interest. This money is nonforfeit¬
able for any cause except desertion.
lOther steps iu behalf of the men are in
(consideration.
W. O. Atwater, in charge of the work
at experiment stations established by the
Agricultural Department, assisted by A.
,W. Harris and A. C. True of his division,
is preparing a bulletin, which will be pub¬
lished this year, giving a history of the
department- and a sketch of the progress
of education in agricultural colleges and
schools. Under this latter head tho sub¬
ject of agricultural instruction is discussed
at length. It is acknowledged that the
purpose for which agricultural colleges
were established iu the several States, aud
to which the Government contributed by
liberal grants of land and money, has not
been realized. The colleges do not edu¬
cate men for the farms,button-professions,
and the tendency of their teachings has
been to draw young men from their farms
instead of fitting them for work on them.
.The curriculum in most cases is too ex¬
tensive for the average farmer’s son to
undertake, and in most cases also the ex¬
penses are too great for the average farm¬
er’s son to meet. The consequence is thal
the class for whom the colleges were as¬
signed have received absolutely no bene¬
fit from their existence.
m Mtmw mmmmm
One-third of all the zinc made in
Europe is manufactured in Belgium.
JASPER, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, JULY 4, 1881).
LOVE’S MITE.
Sweet sympathy is strong to aid,
And gentle tones have power to cheer:
Twore hard for us if riches made
The sum of all our treasure hero.
He who approved tho widow’s mite,
Knows well what triumphs Love has won:
-Vnd precious in His holy sight
Is every kindly action done.
—S. Cray.
AN UGLY FACE.
BV TOM P. MORGAN.
“An’—an’, you’re so ugly, Jacks!” the
girl added, with something like a little
shudder.
“I know it, Ilannio, but- ” Half
frightened at the look of anguish that her
words had brought to the man’s ugly
face, the girl turned aud sped along the
timber-path that led from the big spring.
The man covered his face with his hard
hands and groaned. No one knew better
than he just how unhandsome he was.
As a boy, Jackson Hamlin had grown
apathetically used to the sobriquet of
“Ugly Jacks,” and had so often sought
some placid little “back-set" in the creek,
and gazed at his reflection in it with a
pitiful hope that he might be growing
less deserving of the title, that every line
and lineament of his ugly face was as
familiar to his mental vision as if it was
ever before his eyes. He had grown from
an ugly child to an equally ugly man,
grave and kindly, and differing greatly
from the shiftless aud “trifling” beings
about him.
He wore the same fashionless garb as
they, but he spoke little of the quaint
dialect which they drawled. While they
passed as much as possible of their time
at anything but work, he cultivated his
timber-farm. Or when, at night, the
young men followed yelping curs on
’possum or ’coon hunts, or with their
sisters and sweethearts disported them¬
selves at the “hoe-down” dances, Jack
[Iamliu bowed over the home-made table
in his bachelor cabin, and, by the light
of a spluttering tallow-dip, conned books
that looked so bloatedly full of wisdom
that the casual and illiterate visitor re¬
garded them almost reverently.
No one knew their contents, not even
old Jerry Pottle’s daughter, one of the
few persons in the neighborhood—the
Egypt of Southwestern Missouri—who
mid read. They looked too dry and
ponderous to arouse her interest. But
she liked to hear him tell of the great
world—the world beyond the forest—
beyond the limits of the State, even—the
outside world of which she had seen
nothing and he very little, but of which
he knew much from reading.
And she liked, too, to hear him recite
poetry—poetry that she, with her scanty
education, could scarcely understand.
And, at such times, she would, for a lit¬
tle while, forget his ugly face, the sur¬
roundings, the rickety, shook-covered
house where her father, old Jerry Pottle,
calmly smoked and dozed in his back-
tilted chair on the porch; forget the
apathetic, shiftless, out-of-the-way world
in which she existed, and live for the
moment in the bright, far-off world of
which the poem told.
This bright-faced, ragged maided had
hopes—dreams that promised no shadow
of fulfillment till Sharpley came. You
and I would have considered this Sliarp-
ley a very indifferent personage—rowdy-
ish as to appearance, deficient as to gram¬
mar, and inclined to slovenliness of attire.
But to Han he was very interesting in¬
deed. lie had been almost everywhere—
at least he said so. He, too, could quote
poetry—of a certain class. As a conver¬
sationalist he seemed almost a wonder to
Han, for Sharpley’s tongue was ready
and his mind an inventive one, and the
restrictions of truth bothered him little.
If Jacks Ilamllm had dreamed dreams,
he had said very little about them. But
often at night, when he should have been
studying those dry books, something
would come between him and the printed
page, and its text would go uncom¬
mitted, while he wove wreaths of happy
fancies around the mental picture that
kept him from studying—the bright, wild
face of old Jerry Pottle’s daughter. But
he had said nothing of this to her, hut
had waited till— Then Sharpley came,
from where no one knew, and for what
no one could guess; and then Jacks was
with her no more.
Jacks had made no complaint, but had
kept closer to his farm during the days,
and studied his dry books more fiercely
at night. And Ilan scarcely missed him
at all, for Sharpley was so often hovering
about, and his conversation seemed al¬
ways of things in which she was interest¬
ed. And—well, it was so easy for Sharp-
ley’s agile tongue to promise anything,
and listening, the girl almost forgot
Jacks.
Few had known or cared when he dis¬
appeared for a few days, and then came
back with one of the two great hopes of
his life blossoming into realization.
“I’ll tell it to her,” he told himself.
“Tell it to Hannie, and maybe—”
He met her in the shady path as she
was returning with a bucket of water from
the big spring, and started to tell her the
3tory in a hurried, blundering way, be¬
ginning at the wrong end of the narrative
and blurting out a little of the other great
hope that he had so long cherished. But
the girl would scarcely listen to him.
“I must hurry on,” she said. “Mr.—
somebody will be waitin’ fer me.”
“Somebody—Sharpley!” Jacks Ham¬
lin said, bitterly. “That sneaking
hound, that-”
“He’s jest as smart as you are!” the
girl retorted, angrily. “Jest as smart,
“WE 8EEK THE REWARD OF HONE8T LABOR."
an’ a heap nicer! Ho jest knows ever so
much, an’ is jest, as niec-lookiu’ as he kin
be, an’—an’ you’re Hannic, so ugly!" but-"
“1 know it,
But she was speeding away down the
path, spilling the water from the bucket,
at every step. groaned. “Don’t
“Ugly?” the man I
know just as well as anybody in the
world how ugly I am? I— But it’s
that hound Sharpley that lues changed
her! She used to seem to like to have
me around, and almost seemed to forget
my ugly face. And I— Well, it’s all
over now 1 I dreamed; that was all 1
But. if Sharpley
He did not finish the sentence, but
strode along the wood-path in the direc¬
tion that the girl had just taken. A. mo¬
ment later, as he rounded a bend iu the
path, he stopped suddenly. Before him,
close to where the path left the timber at
the edge of the clearing, two figures were
standing, screened l>y a bush from the
sight of old Jerry Pottle, drowsily smok¬
ing in his tilted chair on the porch of liis
shook-covcred domicile.
“Sharpley!” Jacks muttered, hoarsely.
Sharpley’s arm was around the girl as
if he had sprung out from a haudy hid¬
ing place and caught her, and although
the girl struggled as maidenly modesty
dictated, she did not seem greatly dis¬
pleased. And as Jacks looked, his Sharpley,
holding her fast with superior
strength, bent her head back and kissed
her. Then the girl broke away and
bounded toward the house with the now
almost empty bucket, and Sharpley strode
down the path, whistling airily, and as
he went on the girl stopped and looked
after him.
He passed so close to Jacks, who had
stepped behind a tangled bush, that the
latter could have struck him to the earth.
But Sharpley, unconscious of the prox¬
imity of the ugly face, that, darkened
with hatred, looked half demoniacal as
it peered at him, went on whistling patlf as he
strolled along the wooded and round
the bend, and the half-raised hand
dropped at Hamlin’s side. lie left his
concealment as if to follow the other,
but turned, as there came a clatter of
’hoofs.
Before the girl had reached the house
a small boy, mounted on a wheezy horse,
dashed up to the rickety pole-fence and
uttered a -shrill whoop that aroused old
Jerry Pottle so suddenly that he near!
fell out of his tilted chair. The old
man hurried over to the fence, the boy
imparted his message, and the steed
dashed wheezingly away again, urged by
the rain of kicks that the bare heels of
his rider bestowed upon his rusty sides.
As the girl hurriedly, reached the house, old Jerry
emerged bearing a long brown
rifle.
“Where are you goin’, paw?” the girl
asked.
“Hanner,” said the old man, sternly,
as he strode away, “shot yo’re mouth, ’an
don’t you darst to stir offen the place
twell to-mor’.
Some event of much moment must be
at hand. “Hanner” was only used at
such rare intervals that the girl’s proper
name had been almost forgotten. Her
father, kind in his shiftless way, usually
considered “Ilan” sufficiently compre¬
hensive,and few called her anything else,
except Jacks. It had been “Hannie”
with him, and then with Sharpley. Just
now the girl did not remember but two
previous occasions upon which he had
dignified her as “Hanner.” One was
when his wife, her mother, had died.
The other was only bust week, when the
Riggs “boys” had been arrested, and car¬
ried away on a journey that, after some
delays, ended at the penitentiary,the said
“boys” having been captured by a United
States marshal and his posse while en¬
gaged in manufacturing “moonshine”
whisky at a cleverly concealed still-house.
Old Jerry Pottle did not see Jacks
Hamlin as he turned from the path and
plunged into the timber. Now and then,
as the homely man trudged toward his
lonely home, he muttered, half aloud, in
a dreary, despairing way. “It is all over,
now!” he groaned. “Hannie—little
Hannie!”
Night found Ilamlin inhissmall house,
bowed over his home-made table, seem¬
ingly savagely intent upon devouring the
contents of one of the dry books. But
the light of the spluttering candle could
not dissipate the shadow that seemed ob¬
scuring the printed page—a shadow that,
in spite of his determination, kept resolv¬
ing itself into the face of a girl—a bright
face framed in a tangle of wavy hair. lie
stared fiercely at the page before him,and
passed his hand across his vision as if to
brush away the shadow that, in spite of
his effort to think of it no more, his
thoughts would keep bringing up. And
when, in angry despair, he turned away
from the book, the face was before his
vision still. “Hannie! Ilannic!” he said,
half aloud. “I
There came a patter of footsteps with¬
out in the darkness, and a little figure
with frightened face and panting breath
staggered in at the open door and sank
into the first chair.
“Ilannic!” cried the man, in astonish¬
ment.
“Oh, Jacks!” gasped the girl, ‘Save
him! Save him ! They are goin’ to kill
him, an’-”
It was evident that she was terribly
frightened “They’ll about something. him—kill him!” she
kill
wailed. “An’—an’ he was goin’ to take
me away from here an’ show me ail the
great world, an’ make a lady uv me—an’
I’d never have to wear these ole ragged
cloze no more. An’—an’ now they’re
goin’ to kill him! They drove me away
when I tried to plead with them—my ole
father shoved me away an’ called him a
spy. An’ you’ll save him! You can—
you can! You know so much, an’-”
“Him? Who? Sharpley?"
•“Yes. lie was goin’ to take me out
into the big, bright world, an’—an’ now
they arc goin' to kill him--”
“Was he going to make you his wife?”
the man asked, sternly.
“’Deed an’ double ho was, an’-”
“Gomel” was all the man said.
They loft the house and hurried away
{>• the darkness, the man striding along
ot'a terrific pace, seemingly unmindful of
the snags and brambles that clutched him
•?ov and then, often tearing his clothes
and scratching his tlesh. The girl ran
at his side, telling more of the story iu a
■ f.sping, That excited, half-incoherent way.
night Bharplcy was to have taken
the girl away—away out into the great ,
bright world. But, while Sharpley was
waiting at the trysting-plaeo, they had
come and dragged him away. And now,
iffny were going to kill him, she moaned
— kill him, an’-
A gleam of light filtered through the
bushes ahead, and presently they were
juft without the circle of brightness cast
by a fire that, blazing cheerily, revealed
a weird, wild scene. The fire-light shone
on the despairing face of a man bound to
a determined sapling—Sharpley. It lit up the stern,
countenances—familiar, all of
them, to the couple beyond the circle of
light—of men intent upon executing what
they considered just vengeance. The
making of “moonshine” whisky, though
nominated in the statutes of this great
Government as a heinous offense, was
regarded by them with extremely lenient
eyes, while the giving of information
leading to the capture of such offenders
was considered the chief atrocity in the
catalogue of man’s crimes against his
fellow-men.
The girl would have rushed forward,
but Hamlin held her back, almost savagely.
“Guilty, or not guilty?” old Jerry
Pottle was asking of the group of stern¬
faced men about him.
“Guilty 1”
•iiSharploy,” began old Jerry, gravely,
“you’ve be’n found guilty, an’-”
.“They’ll kill him!” tlio girl gasped.
‘ 1 Save—save-”
Thu hand of the man beside her closed
fiercely on her arm.
“Let them!” he whispered, hissingly.
“He came between-”
“But he was goin’ to take .me ’way
a. .;l i.w -0 au’ make, a lady uv me!" the
girl whispered, pleadingly.
“So will But, I forgo Ugly
—ugly I”
“You’ve be’n foun’ guilty,” old Jerry
was saying—“guilty uv givin’ the infor¬
mation that sent the Biggs boys to prison
—tore ’em away frum tlieir wives an’
families, left the women to fill the hungry
nfouths uv their children as best they kin,
an’ sent ’em to a livin’ death fer half uv
their lives!”
The stem-faced men seemed to grasp
their rifles more firmly.
“I reckon you know what punishment
scch traitors as you git who sell men’s
lives fer a little money. Bobbed ’em uv
half uv their lives on this yere yearth be-
ca’sethey made a little eo’u into juice,
’stead uv meal 1”
“Yes; I know!” answered Sharpley.
“You’ll murder me!”
“It hain’t murder to rid the yearth uv
a sneakin’ houn’ uv a spy. It’s-”
“But I’m' not guilty!” Bharplcy inter¬
rupted, desperately. “Indeed, I did not
give the information.”
“Don’t lie, Sharpley! The news that
little Sol Bender got in town was straight.
You gave the hoys up, an’-”
“No—no I Not I!” cried Sharpley, iu
his desperation. It was-”
“Who?” demanded old Jerry.
. “Jacks Ilamlin 1” cried the wretched
prisoner, as a last resort.
“You are a liar!” roared old Jerry.
“Jacks Hamlin--”
“Is the guilty man!” uttered a steady
voice.
A little squad of men who had crept
noiselessly within hearing of the small
group about the fire saw Hamlin stride
resolutely into the light, lie strode to
where Sharpley was bound. A revolver
was in his hand, and with it he waved
back old Jerry and his little squad.
Quickly drawing a knife, he severed
Sharpley’s “There,” bonds. the girl
ho said, sternly, to
who had followed into the light, ‘ ‘I have
saved him! Go—go with the man you
love, and—and may God bless you!”
Somehow, it almost seemed that, in the
light of the great sacrifice he had made,
Jacks Hamlin’s unhandsome face looked
less ugly. Tlie girl never once looked at
Sharpley, but kept her eyes fixed on
Hamlin’s face, pale, stern and ugly,and it
somehow seemed to her just then the
noblest face in the world.
“Come, Hannie,” Sharpley said, eager¬
ly, bestowing scarce a thought upon the
man who had saved his life at the cost of
the greatest sacrifice that a man can
make. “Come, I’ll take you out into the
great world you wanted to see, and-”
“Go I” Hamlin said. “Go with the
man you love, while you can! I-”
“But, I don’t love him!” cried the
girl. “I love you!”
“Ilannic!”
Then she was sobbing on his breast,
and the ugly face was bent to her wild
hair, and Hamlin forgot Sharply, forgot
the desperate men he had dared; and
they, slow-witted always, had stood open-
mouthed and motionless during the excit¬
ing moments that followed his appear¬
ance.
Then Sharpley turned to flee. The
next instant he was confronted by a little
squad of men who appeared as suddenly
as if they had risen from the earth.
“Stop!” the leader cried, us old Jerry’s
$1*00 Per Annum, In Advance.
party eloead their gaping mouths aud
raised their brown rifles.
“Who air you?" demanded Pottle.
‘‘I’ll tell you who!” cried Sharpley, in
temptingly. “They are United State-
Marshal Keenan and his posse! And
now that I have such backing-”
“Our only business is with Sharpley,’
the Marshal said, sternly. “We have
listened long enough to gather the gist ol
the story. In his capacity of spy, Slmrp-
ley did good work in delivering the
Biggs boys to justice. The man who
just saved his life had not the most re¬
mote connection with the matter."
It seemed that Sharpley had remained
in the neighborhood on the plea that he
was on the scent of an illicit distillery.
Fearing that he would he recalled before
he could accomplish his purpose, he sent
in reports that led the Marshal to believe
that there was an important capture all
ready to ho made. Hence the night-ex¬
pedition.
“Now, I have only to say,” added the
Marshal, “that if there is a still in this
neighborhood, that is a matter to be at-
tended to at some other time. Young
woman,” bo said, addressing Ilannic,
“your Inst choice was a wise one.
Sharpley, the contemptible hound, is a
married man, as I happen to know. The
man whose arm is around you 1 never saw
before, but he is a hero, and—- Stop
there, Sharpley 1”
The spy had exhibited a desire to cs-
cape.
“We will take him away with us,"
added the Marshal. “And I shall take
pleasure, not only in discharging him,
but in kicking him soundly as well.”
After they were gone, old Jerry’s little
squad stood motionless in their tracks,
their slow wits aluiost refusing to grasp
the situation.
“Wal,” drawled old Jerry, “I’ll jesl
be bodasiously switched 1”
“Me, tool” agreed each of his com¬
rades, as they turned to go.
Hannic and Jacks were the last of the
procession that made its slow way through
the dark timber, and the man’s arm was
around the girl’s waist.
“But, I am afraid—won’t you ever re¬
gret this, little woman?” Jacks whispered.
“Nope!” said the girl, positively.
“’Cause, you see, l love you too well!’
11 But, I’m—I’m so ugly I”
“No, you h’ain’t!” denied the girl
stoutly. “You h’ain’t, an’ you ort to 1
ashamed o’ yourself to*say so: An’ you’r«
so smart, an’ good, too, an’-1 novel
knowed my own heart till I saw you offei
to give up your life fer that—that
houn’l”
“But, he promised to take you out iu.
to the great world, and-”
“Blame the great world! I don’t want
it! I jest want you!”
There followed a peculiar sound, that
reached the ears of old Jerry Pottle.
“Will, I’ll jest bo bodasiously switched
if I wa’n’t, that riled up by circumstances,
so to speak, that I till plumb fergot a im¬
portant matter that thar kissin'
’minded me uv it. Jacks, you kin have
her; you’re white. An’, wal, if thar’s
anything on my place that you want to
borry, it’s your’n long's you want it. ”
A little later, Jacks told Ilannic the
good news that he had intended to tel!
,
her when he had met her in the path re¬
turning from the spring.
“You see,I've been putting in my spare
time for years studying medicine, and the
other day I went to the city, and a well-
known physician put me through a short
examination. He said that theoretically
1 was well advanced, aud that after ac¬
quiring the practical part of the science
of medicine by a course under some ex¬
perienced physician I would he well
qualified to start to make a name for my¬
self in my chosen profession. And 1
have hopes of succeeding so well that,
sometime, Hannie, you can see all of the
great, bright world that you have so
longed to see. You know that a homely
doctor can succeed as well as a-”
Then, she stopped his mouth with her
hand .—Frank Leslie's.
Tidings From Pitcairn Island.
The clipper ship L. Schepp, which ha*
arrived at Philadelphia from San Fran¬
cisco, brought tidings of the inhabitants
of that most interesting of all the South
Pacific island settlements, Pitcairn
Island. Captain Gates, the conimundei
of the Schepp, says that he was much
surprised to find on coming on deck one
morning a boat-load of stalwart men ap¬
proaching his vessel. Au island was seen
a short distance off the starboard bow,
and on the boat getting decrepit within hailing
distance, an aged and man in
the how shouted: “I am Thursday Oc¬
tober Christian, Governor of Pitcairn
Island. Christian said that the population
of Pitcairn consisted of 115 men, women
and children. Captain Gates ordered
the yards aback, and in a few minutes
eighteen men were on the ship’s deck, all
of whom bore evidence of English an¬
cestry. lie stated that he was the grand¬
son of one of the mutineers, who, in
1789, set adrift the officers of the Eng¬
lish armed transport ship Bounty. Sev¬
eral of the mutineers were afterward ar¬
rested and sent to England for trial.
The Governor added that the use of to
bacco and liquors was entirely unknown
among the people of Pitcairn, and that
the little colony were in need of dress
goods, particularly for the women, dressed as in
nearly all of the latter were
men’s clothes secured from passing ves¬
sels. A supply of clothing was given,
and an abundance of fruit and provisions
was sent on board the ship in exchange
— Times-Democrat.
In 1874 the Governor of Nebraska
named the first Arbor Day.
NO. 37.
HOUSEIIOLB AFFAIRS,
to nnoir, a beefsteak.
Have the steak cut an inch and a half
thick. Lay it on a double broiler over a
clear fire and let it become seared on both
sides, to prevent the escape of the juice;
then turn it constantly for ten or twelve
minutes. Do not season until it is put on
the hot platter .—New York Press,
COLD SI.AW.
Cut the cabbage fine,and season it with
salt and pepper. Put it in an earthen¬
ware bowl. Rub together a teaspoouful
of flour, and butter the size of a walnut;
pour over it two tablespoonfuls of boil¬
ing water, and stir smoothly on the stove;
put it on the back of the stove, where it
will keep hot blit not boil, and add two
tablespoonfuls of vinegar. Beat light the
yolks of two eggs, a teaspoouful of sugar,
half a teaspoouful of mustard, aud two
tablespoonfuls of cream. Mix this with
the hot mixture; replace on the stove,
stirring well; let it come to a boil, and
pour while hot over tho cabbage.—
Prairie Farmer.
SAUCES.
The simplest sauce for meats, fish and
vegetables is made from water, melted
butter and flour, seasoned with salt and
pepper. Greatcarc and exactness are re¬
quired iu making sauces. The flour must
be corked in the butter, and the hot
water added gradually. A good rule is,
one pint of hot water, one-half cup of
butter, two tablespoonfuls flour, salt and
pepper. For the water, milk may be
substituted, which gives white sauce:
Bggs, parsley, lemon,mustard, oysters and
celery may be added, each giving a name
to the sauce. Mint sauce is made from
the tender leaves of mint, chopped fine
and soaked an hour iu sweetened vinegar
—one cup chopped mint, one-fourth cup
sugar, one-half cup of vinegar .—Detroit
Free Press.
OLD FASniONED YANKEE DREAD.
Sift two pounds of best flour on bread
tray. Make a hollow plaeo.in the centre
and drop in a piece of lard tho size of a
tablespoon. Dissolve one yeast cake in a
little warm water and put that in with
tl'"Yard and one teaspoouful of salt and
i teacup of sugar. Then mhc it with
’■vann water until it is thick aud (turn
. j, on your molding board and Wld
it till it shines and does not stick to the
board. You cannot mold it too much.
Then put it back on the tray. Cover it
with a cloth not very heavy and put it in
t warm place till morning. When it be¬
comes .very light put it on the board
again and mold it down till it is solid.
3et it in a warm place, and as soon as it
•ises nicely mold it again and pqt it in
buttered pans and bake immediately.
This takes a little time, but you have
rood bread.
HOABT SPRING LAMB, MINT SAUCE.
Lamb is now reasonable enough in
price to bo served twice a week. Small
families will find it profitable to buy a leg
and loin; the leg to be roasted and the
loin cut up and served as chops, or the
loin may be roasted and cutlets made of
the leg. Lamb requires salt, pepper and
the best of butter added before roasting.
The butter may he rolled in little bulls ot
nukes, then dredged with flour, The
roast should he nicely browned on the
outside. Mint sauce is easily made.
Chop up three or four sprigs of mint,add
it to a gill of vinegar, ndil also half a
teaspoonful of sugar. Mint sauce may
be made in large quantities and bottled
for use. The ‘common spearmint is the
kind of mint mostly used in sauces, and is
supposed to be the mint spoken of in the
New Testament: pennyroyal and pepper¬
mint are members of the same family.—
New York Sun.
CHICKEN PIE.
Cut the chicken in pieces, unjointing
and cutting the back into four parts.
Wash thoroughly and place over a
moderate fire, covering with cold water
and adding pepper and salt. Boil until
tender, when the chicken can be removed.
Add a little thickening stirred with flour
and water and boiled in the liquor for a
gravy. Add a little butter if desired.
For the crust, make a light dough, as for
baking powder biscuit, by rubbing butter
two-thirds the size of an egg into three
cups of flour, three teaspoons of baking
powder, a pinch of salt, mixing with sweet
milk sufficiently stiff to roll out. Place
your chicken in your baking pan, which
should hold at least three quarts. Cut a
tiarrow strip of the dough and place
around the top edge. Add enough of the
gravy to make the pie moist. Cover the pie
with the balance of the dough, cutting a
long slit in the center, and pressing the
outer edges securely together. Keep in a
moderate oven from half to three quarters
of an hour, or until it has boiled up and
the crust is done. Serve from the pan in
which it is cooked.
HOUSEHOLD HINTS.
Drain pipes and all places that are sour
or impure, may be cleaned with lime wa¬
ter or carbolic acid.
To keep eggs cool is a help in making
frosting. Set them in the refrigerator
after separating whites and yolks; they
will beat in half the time.
To clean windows, wash them first with
tepid water and a sponge; then dry them
with old linen, and rub them clean; pol¬
ish them with a newspaper.
If you wish to keep a sharp knife don’t
put it in hot grease; stir your potatoes
while frying, or turn meat, with a fork or
>ld case knife kept on purpose,