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m Lamp « *Vafleyl
By ARTHUR STRINGER JL W. N. U. Service /
Carol Coburn. Alaska-bom daughter of a
•■bush rat" who died with an unestabllshed
mining claim, returns North to teach Indian
school. Aboard ship, she Is annoyed by
Eric (the Red) Erlcson and Is rescued by
Sidney Lander, young mining engineer.
Lander merely turned his back on
the poker-spined Miss Teetzel.
“Are you going to stand for stuff
like this?” he demanded, towering
over me with a quick flame of in
dignation lighting up his eyes.
Behind me I could sense the last
boat of hope burning up on the coast
of desperation. I knew, when I
spoke, that I was issuing an ulti
matum.
"I don’t intend to,” I quietly an
nounced.
Miss Teetzel flounced out of the
room.
Lander, when we were alone,
stood a little closer over me.
“I got you into this,” he said,
“and it's up to me to get you out
of it.”
I was conscious of his bigness as
I let my gaze lock with his. My
laughter, I’m afraid, was a little
reckless.
“There’s nothing to be done about
it,” I told him. But deep in the
ashes of disaster I could feel a small
glow of happiness at the thought
that he was there to lean on.
“Why not come back with me?”
he finally inquired.
“What good would that do?” I
said.
Lander, after looking down at me
for what must have been a full half
minute of silence, walked to the win
dow and then returned to my side.
“It wouldn’t do any good,” he
paid, with just a trace of the color
ebbing from his face. “It’s all hap
pening a little too late.”
“What’s happening too late?” I
asked him.
“Our coming together,” he said.
“There are things,” he went on,
“not easily talked about.”
“But we can at least be honest
with each other,” 1 announced, for
instinct had already told me what
he was groping toward.
“Yes, we must be honest,” he
agreed. And the unhappiness in his
eyes made my heart beat a little
faster.
“So it’s time,” I said, “that we
both came down to earth.”
“What do you mean by that?” ex
acted my grim-jawed companion.
“I saw the girl back on the Se
attle wharf, the girl you said good
by to. And 1 can understand why
you must play fair with her.”
Lander’s glance came slowly back
to my face.
"I’ve been engaged to her,” he
said, quite simply, “for over two
years now.”
If I reached for a chair back, to
steady myself, I at least managed
to laugh a little.
“That’s fine,” 1 said, with my chin
up.
“Fine?” he echoed, plainly puz
zled by that lilting lightness of mine.
“Of course,” I maintained. “For
row we can go on being good
friends, without any worry or threat
of—of complications.”
“Can we?” he asked as his eyes
once more rested on my face.
“Good pals," I cried, “to the end
of the trail. So let’s shake hands on
it, like two old-timers.”
He failed to observe, ns we shook
hands, that 1 had to swallow a lump
in my throat.
“Would you mind telling me,” I
said when that was over, “just who
she is?”
It wasn’t easy for him, of course.
But he faced it with a forlorn sort
of casualness.
“She's Barbara Trumbull,” he ex
plained. “John Trumbull’s daugh
-1 -r. We practically grew up togeth
er.”
"Then you must have a great deal
m common.”
He studied my face, as though in
search of second meanings.
“We had,” he finally acknowl
edged.
“But you talk of fighting her fa
ther,” I reminded him.
“And I intend to fight him,” said
the wide-shouldered man beside me.
“But she’d feel things like that
shouldn’t count between us.”
When I spoke, after thinking this
over, I was able to keep my voice
steady,
“How do you feel about it?” I
asked.
“I can’t answer that,” was Lan
der's slightly retarded reply, “You
see, she’s coming to Alaska to get
tilings straightened out. She doesn’t
agree with her father that I’ve been
disloyal to the Trumbulls.”
That also gave me a moment of
thought.
“Then she must be very fond of
you,” 1 heard myself saying.
To that, however, Lander offered
no answer.
CHAPTER VI
Toklutna didn’t get rid of me so
Soon as it expected. Two days after
my scene with the acidulous Miss
Teetzel I was interrupted in my
packing by Katie O’Connell.
“We’re in quarantine,” she an
nounced, “with two cases of scarlet
fever in the infirmary. And Ruddy
says you can’t walk out on him.”
“Miss Teetzel,” I reminded her,
“said otherwise.”
“But old Tcetzel's out of the pic
ture, She’* ifa Oed with bronchitis.
THE STORY SO FAB
Lander, working for the Trumbull company,
which Is fighting Cobum’s claim, Is en
gaged to Trumbull’* daughter. Though a
romantic spark Is kindled, Carol Is on
guard against her own emotions.
Lander, Carol, and an abandoned Indian
INSTALLMENT V
And Ruddy says we’ve got to carry
on.”
I felt less at sea after Doctor Rud
dock had me write to the Territorial
Commissioner (following up, I dis
covered, a secret dispatch of his
own) asking for a teacher’s posi
tion in the Matanuska Valley.
When I heard, by that grapevine
circuit which seems to operate in
all frontier countries, that John
Trumbull had visited the valley and
that Barbara Trumbull had flown in
to Anchorage, it seemed like echoes
out of another world. Even when
I heard that Lander had taken over
the management of the Happy Day
Mine and that he and Trumbull had
fought a wordy battle on the open
platform of Matanuska station, I
failed to be as excited as when Katie
told me that the little Indian girl
from Iliamna, up in our improvised
pest ward, wasn’t going to die, after
all. I kept waiting for my Commis
sioner’s report.
That report was neither prompt
nor encouraging. It acknowledged
they were in need of a teacher for
Matanuska but that conditions were
not suitable there for a young and
inexperienced outsider.
I wrote back admitting my youth
but pointing out it was a defect
which time would undoubtedly cor-
I wrote back admitting
my youth.
rect. I also alluded to my physi
cal sturdiness and my eagerness to
work in the new field, with an un
derlined postscript announcing I was
Alaska born. And in the meantime
both the calendar and the excite
ment of our little redskinned wards
reminded us that Christmas was
close at hand.
Then came the second blow. For
Katie and I, with Miss Teetzel still
weak and crabby, did what we could
to make the children’s holiday a
happy one. We sent to Anchorage
for hard candy and sugar-canes and
colored candles and glitter-paper
and powdered mica. With my own
hand I cut down a spruce tree and
dragged it in over the hills. This,
when duly installed in the school
room we draped with strung pop
corn and emblazoned with bits of
ribbon and spangled with tin stars
cut out of empty tomato cans, add
ing copious streamers of wrapping
cord dyed red with beet juice and
snowy handfuls of absorbent pur
loined from the surgery. And over
everything we sprinkled a generous
glitter of powdered mica.
It was all pathetically meager and
make-believe. But the raptness of
the children’s eyes, as they stood
and watched that tree, brought a
lump to my throat. It paid for the
long hours when Katie and I sat up
wrapping oranges in red tissue pa
per, one for each child, and labeling
the mitts and stockings and sweat
ers out of the community gift boxes
from Seattle and Juneau.
But my little In jins loved it all.
On Christmas morning, in fact, when
I appeared in pillow-stuffed Turkey
red, as Santa Claus, they got so ex
cited we had to drape the school
room doors with blankets, to keep
the noise from Miss Teetzel’s dis
approving ears. They put on paper
hats and sang “Rock-a-bye, My Lit
tle Owlet” and "Jingle Bells” and
even had a try at Handel’s “While
Shepherds Watched Their Flocks,”
which Katie and I found it expedient
to finish out by ourselves. Then
they made the rafters ring with "Al
ouette.”
But their little Indian souls eventu
ally got so drunk on music and ex
citement that we had to ease them
down with a square dance. And the
easing down would have been less
dire if a little Copper River brave
hadn't chased a still smaller Innuit
blubber-eater from the Kuskokwim
right into our twinkling and glitter
ing Christmas tree. That collision
overturned one of the lighted can
dles.
I heard a crackle of flames and
a dozen shrill cries from a dozen lit
' tie throats. Then I saw, to my hor
HOUSTON HOME JOURNAL, PERRY, GEORGIA
baby which his dog found, spend a night In
a truck when a snowstorm traps them. But
the next day Lander Is able to get them
through.
Miss Teetzel, head of the school, who re
sents Carol's youth, is shocked, and says so.
ror, that our tree was a tower of
fire.
I snatched one of the blankets
draping the doors and tried to smoth
er the flames. But it was too late.
Ihe blanket took fire. Even my
Santa Claus gown started to burn,
and I tore it off in the nick of time.
I knew, as I did so, just what would
happen to that old tinderbox of a
building if it ever got going. And
I remembered there were six or
seven helpless children up in the
infirmary.
Katie must have remembered the
same thing, for she shouted for me
to get up to those children while she
got the milling and wailing school
room group safely out of the build
ing.
Even in the outer hall the smoke
was thick as I raced for the infirm
ary. There I caught up a wailing
little redskin from the first bed,
calling back for the others not to
move as I ran for the door and hur
ried down the stairs to the west-end
door, where Miss Teetzel, unexpect
edly active and efficient, was com
manding the bigger boys to clear
out the building known as the Ware
house and spread blankets on the
floor. Then I raced back for my
second patient.
The smoke was thicker along the
hall and stairway, and I found it
harder to see. But I knew a surge
of relief when Katie passed me,
carrying a child in her arms.
Two minutes later I was safely
down the stairs with the third help
less tot in my arms. Miss Teetzel,
as she took the patient from me,
looked sharply into my sooty and
reddened face. For the first time
in my life I failed to see hate in
her eyes.
A village Indian who’d been wast
ing water and energy as one of a
bucket brigade tried to stop me as
I started in through the door. He
shouted that the stairs were on fire.
But I pushed him to one side and
raced up through the smoke.
I found what was left of the chil
dren out of bed and huddled in one
corner of the infirmary. There were
four of them. They shrieked when
they saw me, for Katie had given
me a wet sheet with which to cov
er my head. That seemed to keep
some of the smoke away and made
it easier to breathe as I groped my
way down with a little Nitchie in
my arms. Again Miss Teetzel eyed
me as I handed over another patient.
“No go back,” a ragged half-breed
bellowed at me as I faced the burn
ing building. He stood there, block
ing my way, with one hand clamped
to either side of the door. It was
Katie’s vigorous kick, coming down
with a child in her arms, that sent
him sprawling out on the ground
and gave me gangway,
I could hear the crackle of timber
and see flames licking through the
stair boards as I fought my way
back to the infirmary. It would, 1
knew, be my last visit to that room.
So I caught up the two remaining
children, covering their heads w'th
my wet sheet, and felt my way to
ward the hall. Their weight, whi»n
I was so in want of breath, made
me stagger. But they helped me,
in their terror, by hanging on like
leeches. I thought, for a moment,
that I was going to faint.
1 staggered down that runway oi
licking and dancing flames, with my
shoes scorching from the heat and
my lungs aching for one whiff of
pure air. I had, by this time, no
sense of place or direction. But
through the murk I could make out
the pale oblong of the open door.
And out through that open door 1
stumbled, stumbled straight into the
arms of Katie O’Connell, who huski
ly croaked, “Glory be to God!” as
she eased me down on the trodden
dooryard snow and started flailing
my burning clothes with the wet
end of a blanket. Then, for a min
ute or two, everything went black.
When I opened my eyes Katie was
trying to make me swallow a cupful
of brandy and water.
“That’s ticket,” she said. Then
she busied herself rubbing olive oil
on my scorched hands and cheeks.
I didn’t know it at the time, but
my eyelashes were missing and a
goodly part of my front hair had
gone glimmering.
“Did I get them all?” I asked. H
hurt me to talk, for my throat was
sore from the smoke.
“You did, old-timer,” affirmed Ka
tie. “But it nearly got you.”
And with that she picked me up ir
her arms and carried me to the im
provised barracks that had once
been our Warehouse, where a stove
had been put up and floor bunks
were arranged for the children.
It wasn’t long before Doctor Rud
dock arrived on the scene.
“Hello, stoker,” he said, blinking
down at me. Then he stooped for t
moment to take my pulse. “You’ve
got the stuff this country needs.”
“I’m all right,” I told him. “You
must look after the children.”
He nodded.
“I’ll fix you up later,” he saic
as he put the blanket back over my
scorched clothing. “But stay where
you are, young lady, or i’ll oai
you down.”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
luf, J
BAKED BEANS—AN AMERICAN TRADITION!
(See Recipe Below)
CHURCH SUPPER THOUGHTS
Cock a weather eye at the next
social event on your list. ’Tis a
church supper, you say? Mmmm
. . . one of those delightful affairs
that simply wouldn’t be missed!
I know . . . one of my fondest
memories is the home town church
supper, always famous for its food,
especially Parker House rolls and
baked beans.
Perhaps you are one who thinks
of beans as a plain or ordinary dish
and, for that reason, hesitate to
serve them at a dress-up affair. If
you are, I think I can help you
change your mind, for properly pre
pared baked beans are a delight
which deserve a place in the top
flight of fine cooking.
If you are rushed for time and
can’t bake your own beans, there
. are always the
canned varieties
l ; 'Vi Pafjlj§£ at your grocer’s.
Their meal-in-a
-~ m i nute possibili
j, UB ties shouldn’t be
overlooked. And
If then, too, they’re
a “feast for the
least’’
To be really different, you may
want to experiment with seasonings
until you develop an individual fla
vor in the canned product. It’s
amazing the variety of “taste
treats’’ you can achieve.
One of the flavors so many like
in canned beans is curry. While
the beans are heating slowly, a tea
spoon of curry powder is sifted over
the top and mixed gently through the
beans. When thoroughly heated, a
piece of butter is added and when
that is absorbed, the beans are
ready to serve.
An entirely different flavor is de
veloped by adding a tablespoon of
vinegar and several tablespoons of
brown sugar to two cups of beans
while heating thoroughly. Likewise,
the piece of butter is added just
before serving.
An adaptation of this latter “taste
treat” is featured in this week’s
church supper menu suggestions.
Here it is:
♦Deviled Beans in Buttered Noodles.
(See Picture at Top of Column)
2 No. 10 cans beans or 10 No. 2 cans
8 ounces of fat
1 pound chopped onions
2 14-ounce bottles catsup
% pound brown sugar
8 ounces horseradish
1 ounce salt
V 2 teaspoon pepper
Heat the fat. Add onion and cook
until slightly browned. Add remain
ing ingredients and heat thorough
ly. Serve in a bed of buttered noo
dles. Makes 50 servings.
* • *
Because cooking in quantities does
present problems, it’s best to plan
a menu of foods that can be easily
prepared and served. Guess we all
LYNN SAYS:
When planning meals for large
numbers
DO try to determine as nearly
as possible the number of people
to be served, as it is more eco
nomical to have no leftovers . . .
this is, of course, if only one
meal is to be served.
DO have a well-balanced menu.
Too much variety will result in
your guests heaping their plates
with a conglomeration of food
. . . they’ll want to taste every
thing!
DO choose foods that won’t
spoil if they must stand for 15
minutes or even longer,,
DO have committees who are
responsible for collecting the lin
en, china and silverware, setting
the table, preparing the different
parts of the menu and waiting
on the table.
DON’T forget to appoint a
clean-up squad.
DON’T attempt to increase an
ordinary recipe more than once.
Proportions of ingredients change
as recipes become large, and it’s
no simple matter for an ama
teur to guess at them. Unless you
have recipes designed to serve
large numbers, it’s safer to make
quick breads, cakes and cookies,
according to standard family size
recipes.
THIS WEEK’S MENU
Supper for Fifty
♦Deviled Beans in Buttered
Noodles
♦Perfection Salad
Hot Rolls or Boston Brown Bread
♦Fruit Whip
Coffee Tea Milk
♦Recipes Given.
agree on that. So, with this in mind,
here are recipes that will comple
ment your very important main
dish:
♦Perfection Salad.
Soak 10 tablespoons of gelatin
(five envelopes) in 2% cups cold
water for five minutes. Add 2Va
cups mild vinegar, 10 tablespoons
lemon juice, 10 cups boiling water,
2Vz cups sugar, and five teaspoons
salt. Stir until dissolved and set
in a cool place. When mixture be
gins to stiffen, add five cups finely
shredded cabbage, five cups diced
celery, 10 finely chopped pimientos
and 30 small sweet pickles, chopped
fine. Pour mixture into shallow pans
that have been rinsed with cold wa
ter. When “set,” cut into squares
and place each square in a lettuce
cup and top with mayonnaise. You
will need 5 or 6 large heads of let
tuce for 50 servings.
♦Fruit Whip.
1 quart fruit pulp
1 quart sugar
4 egg whites
% cup lemon juice
Put fruit pulp, sugar and unbeat
en egg whites into a mixing bowl
and beat until stiff. Chill. Serves
50. (In this quantity, dessert whips
should be made with a power beater
or mixing machine).
• • «
When feeding a crowd, the mar
keting problem may present difficul
ties. You will need six dozen rolls
(depending on the size) to serve
50. As to beverages, put these
amounts on your list: three pounds
of coffee, % pound of tea or three
gallons of milk each of these
amounts will serve 50.
• • •
Supper over, what next? Enter
tainment, of course. Half the suc
cess of a party lies in the “after
dinner” program.
And why not a radio party? Ar
range the stage to represent a
broadcasting studio . . . with micro
phones, clocks and other radio para
phernalia.
The tables where guests are seat
ed should represent the radio sta
tions of the Amer
nesot a> MASS for
Massachusetts, etc.) . . . and each
one appropriately decorated—minia
ture orange grove for California,
wheat field for North Dakota, ma
ple sugar trees for Vermont, a
large pot of baked beans for Massa
chusetts, apple orchard for Oregon,
dairy scene for Wisconsin, planta
tion scene for Virginia, etc.
Guests are seated at the table rep
resenting their birthplace. (This will
work wonders in mixing up your
crowd).
If each group is small, several
states may be combined into one
station, such as Station NEG (New
England group), or Station NWG
(Northwest group).
A master of ceremonies, dressed
to represent Uncle Sam, invites all
stations to tune in for the “coast
to-coast” broadcast. The program
may be as varied as the talent
available. A full hour show, con
sisting of music by instrumentalists
or an orchestra . . . singing by a
quartet or soloists ... a dramatic
sketch . . . etc.
A novel addition to your program
would be a Professor Quiz type. Ask
for volunteers to answer the ques
tions submitted by the audience.
A prize can be offered for the best
answers.
Commercials and time signals
should be interspersed throughout
the program. These may be an
nouncements of forthcoming meet
ings, services, etc,
lEeieased by Western Newspaper Union.)
S| - OUSEHQLD
ininis®
To prevent metal salt-shaker
tops from corroding, cover the i
side of the tops with paraffin
* ♦ *
To keep down the cost of operat
mg a mechanical refrigerator it i,
important to watch the frost o
the cooling unit and defrost as
often as it is necessary.
♦ ♦ *
Never scrape kitchen utensils
with a knife. Use a stiff brush
dipped in scouring powder to re
move stains and burns.
* * *
When running rods through your
curtains put a thimble on the’ end
of the rod. It will run through
more easily.
* * •
For best results in painting a
new brick wall, use a paint made
with a Portland cement base. It
comes in powder form and is
mixed with water.
• • •
Nut meats may be removed
from the shell without breaking
the kernel if hot water is poured
over the nuts and allowed to re- 1
main through the night.
* * •
If short of eggs when making
scrambled eggs for the gang, add
a tablespoon of fine bread or
cracker crumbs for each egg short
—up to half eggs and half crumbs
* * •
Never wash a tea strainer or a
teapot in soapy water. Wash and
rinse in clear water always.
* * *
Winding wool is difficult if there
is no one to hold it. Put two flat-'
irons on a table at a sufficient dis
tance apart to allow the wool to be,
tightly stretched. Then wind over
the irons, just as if someone was
holding it.
INDIGESTION
may affect the Heart
Gas trapped In the stomach or gullet may act like a
hair-trigger on the heart. At the first sign of diatresi
smart men and women depend on Bell-ana Tatlctj to
eet gas free. No laxative but made of the fastest
acting medicines known for acid indigestion. U tha
FIBST DOSE doesn't prove Bell-ans better, return
bottle to us and receive DOUBLE Money Back. 25c,
One’s Neighbor
The most pious may not live
in peace, if it does not please his
wicked neighbor.—Schiller.
t * SOOTHES CHAFED SKIN.
MQRoyMF
WORLD'S LARGEST SELLER AT 5< 7*
For the Cause
It is the cause, and not tha
death, that makes the martyr.—
Napoleon.
Idea and Work
Success is nothing but a good
idea coupled with hard work.—
Balzac.
Help Them Cleanse the Blood
of Harmful Body Waste
Your kidneys are constantly filtering
waste matter from the blood stream. But
kidneys sometimes lag in their work —do
not act as Nature intended —fail to re
move impurities that, if retained, may
poison the system and upset the whole
body machinery.
Symptoms may be nagging backache,
persistent headache, attacks of dizziness,
getting up nights, swelling, puffineas
under the eyes—a feeling of nervous
anxiety and loss of pep and strength.
Other signs of kidney or bladder dis
order are sometimes burning, scanty or
too frequent urination.
There should be no doubt that prompt
treatment is wiser than neglect. Use
Doan's Pills. Doan’s have been winning
new friends for more than forty years.
They have a nation-wide reputation.
Are recommended by grateful people the
country over. Ask your neighbor!
WNU—7 17—4}
MERCHANTS
•Your
Advertising
Dollar
buys something more than
space and circulation in
the columns of this news
paper. It buys space and
circulation plus the favor
able consideration of our
readers for this newspaper
and its advertising patrons.
LET US TELL YOU j
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