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The Plotters
A SERIAL OF EAST AND WEST.
~ Elizabeth Betrays Another S
; Few Moments /
. By Virginia Terhune Van de
i Water.
“ (Copyright, 1918, Star Company.)
g CHAPTER XXVI, |
{ LIZABETH. WADE was more
% E than usually vivacious at sun-j
per that evening, and later‘
. when tha household group sat upon|
~ the veranda. ‘
. Clifford Chapin was going away.
" If he guessed the truth about h(-r]
. identity, there was little danger of his |
. pevealing it to Butler before ho left.
. Bhe had seen him go down to the
_ erchayd this afternoon, had watched
. anxiously his return with Butler to
. the farmhouse, But from Butler's
. demeanor she was sure that the farm
. er's son had divuiged to him nothing
of a startling nature. She had scanned
. the two ocoutenances as the pair
. yeached the veranda. Young Chapin
w bad looked rather glum; Butler
~ seemed just as usual.
At supper Clifford had been silent;
:2 John Butler talkative,
Well, the girl reflected, no harm had
" come of the incident of Douglas’ let
~ ter. Even If young Chapin had seen
§a- address on it, he had not asso
_ clated it with her brother. Or, if he
. had, he was too honorable to make
_ use of knowledge thus acquired.
~ This thought moved her to speak
~ kindiy to this pretentious and conceit-
A;M gon of the house. Perhaps she had
. misjudged him. |
. *You have a long journey ahead of
~ wou” she remarked. “You will be
- Chicago.”
%Oh, I dont know,” with feigned
E’m “traveling doesn’t tire
~me much. Chicago is not nearly as
_ long way off as Wyoming, you know.”
~ She started, but controlled herself
“I have never boen West at all,” she
~ memarked, “so 1 know little about the
. distances, except by hearsay.”
. “I famcy Mr. Chapin was thinking
of my having come from there,” But
.~ ler conjectured, looking at the other
- man curiously.
. Something was in the air. Of that
" he was sure. “Me was one of those
- Sensitive persons who feel a certain
~ atmosphere before they detect what is
- wrong. '
The Air Is Charged,
= Clifford Chapin met his suggestion
| Stolidly. “On the contrary,” he de
~ clared, “I was not thinking of you at
- all. T even forgot that you came from
. the West. But had I remembered
that Wade sent you here I would have
- supposed that your home was where
-he lives.” |
| “My home is not at the West,” But
. But
g:: informed him. *1 was out there
~ for several months, but [am an Bast
. erner.” |
. “So is Wade” Clifford remarked.
. Butler wondered why this fellow
. . referring so often to the physi
| dlan. Could he suspect that he, John
{m. had been a nervous wreck and
~ Dr. Wade's patient? N
~_ But of course he could know noth
& of all this, he reminded himself
| reassuringly. Nobody here knew of
’ And, anyway, his lllness and its
Tested Victory Recipes
1 “VANITIES"”
. TheSe favorites with the children
h‘ easily made os follows: Beat
~ well three eggs and add one table
- spoonful each of sugar and cold wa
%,
. ter and a quarter of a teaspoonful
~of salt. Stir in flour to make a rath
_er stiff dough, knead well on the
Sm divide into four or five por
. tions. Take one of these on the board
~ and roll it very thin—the thinner the
_ dough the nicer will be the vanities.
' When tear—not cut—off pleces: the
“more irregular in shape the prottier
" they will Jook when done. Drop them
Into a pan of smoking hot lard and
fry a delicate brown, turning once;
.~ take out and sift powdered sugar over
;fifln. They will be covered with
Mu and present a very preity ap-
COCOANUT CAKE,
' Onme-half pound white rye flour,
' 1-2 pound sugar, § eggs, lemon flavor.
i Beat the eggs and sugar together.
- Then add flour. Lay on pan but
(tered. Put on top some flaked co
-1 put. Bake in a hot oven.
? MACAROON.
" One pound sugar, 1 pound almond
paste.
. 'Mix with white of eggs and lay on
fimr. Cook in moderate oven,
MILANAIS. :
~ One-half pound sugar, 1-2 pound
r (white ryej), 2 eggs, 1 teaspoon
baking powder.
" Mix sugar, flour, eges, baking pow
~der. Let it rest two hours in cool
jhu. Then bake in a hot oven (but
s’., 00l m).
LADY FINGERS,
& Yolks of 8 eggs, 1-2 pbund pow
f@ered sugar, 1-4 pound potato flour, 2
Ounces of cornstarch, ? ounces of
W rye flour, whites of 8 ezgs, well
X yolics with sugar—work It
Add white of eggs Dbeaten like
THEGEORG
cret, and Clifford Asks for a
\lone With Her.
'attendant horrors were all behind him
now.
He looked at Plizabeth and was
startled by her pallor. Surely noth
ing this man could be saying ecould
affect her. The very idea that such
could be the case made him indignant
with the farmer’s son It was a good
thing that he was going away. The
pair were cousins, but they had little
in common,
A slilence had descended upon the
party. Mrs. Chapin broke it.
“Clifford dear, are you taking the
antomobile back to the Midland ga
rage tonight?”
“Surely, T am,” he replied, “How
elge would 1t and'l get in?” :
“l didn’t think,” his mother apolo
gized. *“That was a gilly question.
“I do not think it was at all,” Eliz
abeth sald quickly., “Your son might
be going in with the team, having
Talak drive him, and Mr. Butler might
be going to take the car back tomor
row, or somebody could be coming out
from Midland for it. So your ques
tion was not silly.”
“Do you drive a car?” Clifford asked
Butler abruptly,
“l have driven my own cars—yes,”
was the reply.
“Then sclentifie farming is only an
occupation on the side,” the other
commented. |
“It 1s what I specialized in at eol
lege,” Butler informed him. “Why
did you ask about my driving?
Another Break.
“Only because | was wondering that
any man who oould afford to own cars
and that kind of thing should bury
himself in a place like this,” he
growled. “Just as I wonder why my
cousin,”-—pausing before the word,
then emphasizing it strongly—"“with
her talents, should decide to spend the
summer out on a farm among stran
gers.”
“Shut up, CHf!"
Amos Chapin meant to utter the
warning softly, but it reached Eliza,
beth’'s ears.
She wag fearful lest Butler had
heard it. She must say something to
ease the situation!
“l suppose that every girl who has
worked at college all the year ls glad
of a chance to rest out in the coun
try,” she hazarded, desperately,
“At college!”
The exclamation was Cliffordd’s, and
Elzabeth realized that in her nerv
ousness and excitement she had ad
mitted that she had been at ocollege.
Yet nowadays even a girl llke Mar
tha Chapin's cousin might go to col
lege.
| “Yes!"” she answered Clifford's ex
clamation hastily. “You know so lit
tle of your relatives that you are not
‘even sure which of your cousins ig a
college girl. But Tam one”
~ She ocould feel John Butler turn to
ward her. “I thought as much,” he
observed. “Yet you never told me of
B e
~ Clifford Chapin rose abruptly.
~ “I wonder, Lizzie,* with forced calm
wess, “If 1 could have a few minutes’
talk with you?”
| (To Be Continued.)
snow, Then add flour, cornstarch,
etc. Mix well, but lightly. Lay on
layer of paper. Bake lin moderate
oven, Half this recipe makes enough
for a large family,
(The following wvaluable information
about canning is given out by the New
York Mayor's Committee of Women on
National Defense through its War Food
Bulletin, No. 2.)
1. A safe measure for jelly making
is three parts of sugar to four parts
of juice.
4 Sugar should. always be uug-htlyl
heated before adding it to fruit. |
3. In applying paraffin, pour it over
jams and jellies while it is at the
boiling point. This will prevent mold
and formentation later.
4. Sterilize glasses in boiling water
before putting the jelly in them,
5. If the *tin covers of the glasses
are not in good condition they
should be lacquered before being used
the second time.
The paraffin paper cups now on the
market are excellent for storing jel
lies and jams where they can be
kept in a cool, dry place,
For Canm
1, Fruits must be 1 cleaned and
preserved while they are firm, and
before they are over-ripe.
2. Sterilize the jars in boiling wa
ter. Drain them thoroughly, and add
the fruit immediately. Secrew the
tops on securely, and turn all the jars
upside down; leave them in this po
sition until you are certain that they
are airtight.
3. The strength of the rubber
bands used on the jars must be care
fully tested by stretching them
slightly: only those in good condi
tion may be used. It is better to
get new rubbers yeach season.
4. Jar covers must be perfect; those
with rough edges should be discarded.
5. Small quantities of both vege
tables and fruits are easiest to han
dle at one time, as the results are
apt to be more uniformly good.
Genius Is the Gold in the Mine; Talent Is the Industrious Miner.
“On MY Street”’
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N my street. Wonder if my street’s same as yours, Fave the
O B?bies gone to war on yours? With an old stove pipe on wheels;
a shining drum and horn; the carefully treated flag that creates
a scandlized riot on MY street if the wind happens to tip the tiny
silken thing, or the bigger, cheaper one of cottoi—so beautiful just the
same, tip it over on the grass or the roadway; and their mother's mys
teriously vanishing dish-cloths for the holy badge of the Red Cross?
Have you wounded heroes, with black soles to thelr bare feet?
Have you tiny ones that they wish the thankless posts on? Have you
long conferences where NOBODY wants to be the German? And “some
By Archie Cameron New.
RAFFIC courts are filled da,flyl
T with the hosts of those to whom
a policeman's warning arm
means nothing. But Frieda Schmidt's
outstretched arm seemed to have
some poteni influence on those to
whom they pointed. Men paid their
two-dollar fines promptly, without
prest, and lingered, to gaze devoutly
at her riotous golden mane, and to
drink in the darts of her dancing blue
eyes. But Frieda, though in uniform,
was not a policeman, .
She wore a most becoming white
dress and walst, and over her head
was draped a heavy white veil, with
a red._cross on the front of it, and
| when she sang out “stop,” she added,
mugically, “Buy a Button.” And most
of her victims bought one, too, and
stood by to hear her thank them,
“both for myself and for our brave
boys in the trenches,” as she prettily
phrased it.
And each night as she turned in
her receipts, a crisp sour-faced dow
ager eyed her strangely and behind
her back, whispered to her assis
tant.
“I don't see how she does it,” was
the dry comment. “She's stationed
at that dreadful bank, where most
of the depositors are of German de
scent. I will have my doubts about
her.”
“And her father’'s Hugo Schmidt,”
added the assistant, significantly.
“They tell me he's under suspicion
eéven if he is naturalized. Why did
the com:mittee let her work—none of
the ladies like her. They think she's
doing this work with some motivo."'
“She has friends,” replied the oth- |
er, savagely. “Mr. Duncan is spon
sor for her.”
It was true that Frieda was not
popular with her co-workers at the
bank. Whom the me® adore, the
women oft deplore, and it might have!
been Frieda’s evident conquest of the
men that drew to her the shafts of
disapproval from the others. How
ever, they were diplomatie.
“See there,” whispered Miss Gwen
dolyn Wethridge, to the others, as a
depositor passed them and halted in
front of Frieda to let her pin a but
ton on him. “They only patronize
her because she's one of them. Clear- ‘
ly he's pro-German.”
Miss Wethridge's remarks seemed
true, for Frieda's latest victim iocoked
Teutonic. H 2 was broad and slightlv
fat, with a blonde moustache in spite
of his youth and ruddy cheeks. But
Frieda was beaming on him. l
“That’'s tha mg‘ Qe ahe's sold
Buy a Buiton
him,” observed one of the others, a
bit enviously. “I believe she's carry
ing on a flirtation with him.”
~ And had they heard the whispered
‘exchange between Frieda and her
patron, they might have been further
‘shocked. ; ~
.~ “Herr Mohler,” she asked him
!saucily, in German. “How are you?”
~ Herr Mohler gave her a strange
look and hesitated a moment, before
replying.
“You—you know my name?” he
stammered, surprisedly. *“And you—
you-—speak German?”
“Oh, yes,” she assured him, with a
winsome smile. ‘Papa taught me
how. And 1 know you—well-—because
everybody knows you.” She flashed
him a winning smile again. ‘“You're
8080 prominent.”
~ “And your name?” he asked, still
Teyelng her from head to foot,
~ “Frieda” she told him—a bit bash
fully, he thought. “Frieda Schmidt.”
! “Ah!” he exclaimed, his eyes light
ing up. And you-—too-—are German.”"
- “My father was,” she answered,
evasively.
“And you—you are doing this
work?” There was more assertion
than questioning in his tone as he
pointed to her Red Cross costume.
“This is a work of mercy,” she
fonced with him, meeting his gaze
squarely, “Only caring for the wound
ed, that's all”
“So!" he grunted, and then after a
few wards turned away to a desk and
Frieda again held out her appealing
palms.
~ “Buy a button, and be benevolent,”
she sang out, with her lips to the
next man, though her eves followed
Mohler until he left the bank. Then
w‘th a swift moyement she darted to
the desk and grasping a blotter stuck
it in the pocket of her dress. Then
she returned to her task, with a new
light in her eye.
“The brazen minx!"” muttered Miss
Wethridge, who noted the act. *“She's
even after a memoir of him.”
“I—l don’t believe that at all,” came
the excited answer from the other
girl. ‘1 believe he's sent her—a secret
message.”
“On!” cried Miss Wethridge, aghast,
and the whispered slander spread like
wildfire among the others. Their sus
picious attitude and accusing glances
now became more marked than ever.
Fresh fuel was added each succeed
ing day for o week. “Each day Mohler
pavsed befare Frieda's booth and ex
changed hurried whispers, and then
body's gotta be!” There is glorious war on my street. 1 watch it and
listen with my heart smiling inside me and 1 remember with something
that isn't a smile, the “Child-Crusaders.”
No little narrow breast is too small a cage for the heart that can
pulse and pain and sing at the sight of the folding, fluttering, rippling,
flag of crimson and white and heaven-blue breaking out to the wind!
The children on my street, the little fat babies and the little long thin
boys, the round dollie-girls and the slim little willow-wand ones, they
“carry on.” They carry the flag—eyes up—little hands folded warmly
about the staff, as if it were the preciousest treasure that ever could be
dreamed into a shape to touch and see.—~NELL BRINKLEY.
after leaving, Frieda would pocket
some paper from the desk.
And then, one day, she capped the
climax.
“Yes,” she answered him, bashfully,
in reply to his invitation as he pressed
his red face over the booth close to
her own. “I—l'd like to go with you.
When—when will you—call?”
“When you get through today.” he
replied, briskly. “At 3"
At 3 o’clock that afternoon, as Moh
ler handed Miss Schmidt gallantly
into his capacious machine, the other
girls exchanged horrified glances.
“She's either a flirt—or a spy,” was
the unanimous opinion. “And either's
bad enough.”
And they might have added “pick
pocket” to the indictment, had they
seen Frieda later, when after a heavy
meal and much wine, Mohler fell
asleep in the machine on their way
for a nice long ride, as he expressed
it, with a leer on his thick, sodden
lips.
For she leaned forward over him,
and extracted several papers from his
pocket. Then she leaned forward to
the driver.
“Quick,” she commanded, in a whis
per. “Headquarters.”
Ten minutes later a bright-eyed,
golden-haired beauty, with a sparkle
in her eye that meant some new vic
tim’'s downfall, breezed into an office
marked “Hugh Duncan—Assistant U.
8. Marshal.” Back of her followed a
man in a chaffeur’s uniform, half
dragging, half-shoving a ruddy-faced
young man, manacled, and showing
distinet signs of a scuffle.
“Frieda,” exclaimed the youthful of
ficial, happily, as he umped to his
feet and approached her. “You—¢
have—him?”
‘“Yes,” she answered, and pointed
to Mohler, who glared at them sav
agely. ‘“With Stanley’'s help. It's a
good thing you detailed Stanley to
engage himself as a chauffeur. He
gave us a tussle.”
“So it seems,” Duncan answered
briefly; then he ordered Stanley to
take his prisoner out.
Alone with Frieda, Dunéan turned
his face away and went to his desk.
He stared out of the window for sev
eral minutes, and now and then his
muscular frame shook from some
strong emotion.
“Er—Hugh,” whispered Frieda soft-
Iy. “Mr. Duncan, er haven't you—
anyvthing to say to me?"
He turned around slowly and faced
her sadly.
“No%he said slowly, “Except
to—apol I had no right—to
By NELL BRINKLEY
Copyright, 1918, International News
Service.
think .you disloyal. Your name was
German—and—well, I was wrong. You
were loyal—you've more than proven
it. I had no idea when I asked you to
prove it that you’d bag such a big
game. Mohler’'s the biggest spy of
all. He’s the financial man of the
{ bunch. How did you—come-—to spot
him ?”
She played with her hat and was
silent; then she raised her eyes to
his and smiled—one of those saucy
little smiles that had sold so many
buttons for the Red Cross.
“I got the idea by accident,” she
told him. “Father was a patron of
the bank, and I thought I might sell
Red Cross buttons better there than
anywhere and show, by my success,
how loyal 1 was. And then—l
thought. It took money to be a spy—
why couldn’t the money be kept there
-—a German institution. You sus
pected Mohler—and you told me so.
So I watched his deposit slips, and
his checks. He wrote them at the
bank and then blotted them.
“T saved the blotters. Then I took
the list of names he made out checks
to, and compared them to his office
list—his employees. Not one was an
employee. Then I found that code
book which you have in his pocket.”
Tears started to her eyes. “But it
was hard, Hugh; awfully hard. The
girls thought I was a spy, too. They
snubbed me awfully. I didn’t let on,
but it hurt—their savage looks—day
after day. And then—Mohler took me
out. They thought T was—{flirting
with him.” . ;
She daubed a tiny handkerchief at
her tears and did not see Duncan
approach her, but she felt the grip of
his strong, eager arms as he raised
her into his embrace.
“But they won't be able to say
things about you—if you’re my wife,”
he whispered. “And I'll give you—
ldearest—c. good old American name
to fit that precious little American
’heart—it you'll take it.”
She looked up at him with a happy,
saucy smile on her lips.
“Won't you buy a but——"
Seizing her in his arms, he closed
her sentence effectively—with his lips.
Removing Paint.
Paint spilled is most unsightly and
often difficult to remove. Apply a
strong solution of potash. In a short
time the paint will become soft and
can be washed off with soap and wa
ter. Then use cold water. - Paint
which has been left on for some time
will yield to this treatment. .
Nights With Uncle Remus
HE colonel was puzzled by the;
T route they were taking. He
had heard a good deal of run
away negroes, and had saeen @me
after they were caught, but he had
always imagined that they went into
deep woods or into the dim swamps
for shelter and safety. But here was
old Shade going poling down the pub
lic road where every passer-by could
see him. Or was the dog at fault?
Was it some visiting negro who had
called in to see the negroes at the
home place, and had then gone home
by the road?
While the colonel +was nursing
these suspicions, Jeff pauseéd and ran
back toward him. At a low place in
the fence, the dog hesitated and then
flung himeslf over, striking into a
footpath. This began to look like
business. The path led to a ravine,
and the ravine must naturally lead to
a swamp. But the path realiy led
to a spring, and before the colonel
could throw a few rails from the
fence and remount his horse, Jeff had
reached the spring and was clicking
up the hill beyond in the path that
led back to the road.
It appeared that Uncle Shade had
rested at the spring a while, for the
dog went forward more rapidly. The
spring was six miles from the colo
nel’s house, and he began to have
grave doubts as to the sagacity of
Jeff. What could have possessed old
Shade to run away by this public
route? But if the colonel had doubts,
Jeff had none, He pressed forward
vigorously, splashing through the
streams that crossed the road and
going as rapidly up hill as he went
down.
The colanel’'s horse was a good one,
but the colonel himself was a heavy |
weight, and the pace began to tell
on the animal. Nevertheless, the col- |
onel kept him steadily at his work.?
Four or five miles farther they went,
‘and then Jeff, after casting about for
a while, struck off through an old
sedge field.
Here, at last, there was no room for
doubt, for Jeff no longer had to put
his nose to the ground. The tall sedge
held the scent, and the dog plunged
through it almost as rapidly as if he
had been chasing a rabbit. The cvlo
nel, in his excitement, cheered the dog
on lustily, and the chase from that
moment went at top speed.
Uncle Shade, moving along on a
Is He a Bandit?
LET PARENTS FACE THE TRUTH
Dr. McKeever Says Every Normal Boy Has Wild Longings,
Which Should Be Given Proper Outlet.
By Dr. William A. McKeever.
(One of the nation’s best-known so
ciological writers.)
OUND. In a jail in a Middle
F Western county town, two 16-‘
year-old boy bandits, who an
swer to the names of Robert and
Jack. Owner can have same by prov- {
ing property and waiting till the boys
have served a seventeen-year sen
tence in the State Penitentiary for
robbing a bank.
How young and innocent they
seemed as they peered out at us
through the prison bars. Robert‘
was somewhat downeast, but Jack
was cheerful and appeared to be‘
proud of the fact that they had got
their pictures in the papers. ‘
The boys had come from a large
Western coast city, they said, and
had spent two weeks beating their
way. They had read of many holda
ups out in this open country and
how the bandits usually got away
with their loot.
They had scen a bank robbery in
a movie and one of them had even
gone to see it a second time! They
had talked and plotted robberies
many times with their young pals
back home, and all agreed that it
would be easy if you planned the at
tack carefully beforehand, ‘
So, these daring young nov-icesl
pulled a gun on the bank clerk,
grabbed 33,000 and beat it for cover.
But their wild career proved short,
for in a very few hours they were
safe in jail. And in the brief period
of three days the judge had pro
nounced the sentence of seventeen
yvears. With time out for good be-!
havior these youths will be free in
about fifteen years, 1933. They will
be seasoned coal dinners and con-J
firmed criminals by that time, most!
probably, set against society, perma
nently retarded in their inetllectuali
growth and the world of opportunity
will be forever closed before them,
“How much better if by some turn
of affairs they could have been killed
during the hold-up.” some would say.
But such a view is only another way
of deprecating our inadequate meth
ods of taking care of the youthful
criminal.
I am positive that these boys could
be entirely made over and returned to
society as competent citizens. They
have simply started out in answer to
the Great Cail of the Wild which na
ture puts into every normal boy. In
their particular cases there has mere
ly been inadequate management and
guidance, and finally a crisis was
reached. <
- What these wayward youths first of
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bluff overlooking Little River, nearly
a mile away, heard it and paused tdq
listen. He thought he knew the voiced
of man and dog, but he was not sure;
so he lifted a hand to his ear and
frowned as he listened. There ecould
be no doubt abont it. He was caugh
He looked all around the horizon n.n:
up at the glittering sky. There wag
no way of escape. So he took hig
bundle from the end of his caney
dropred it at the foot of a huge hicks<
ory tree and sat down.
Presently Jeff came in sight, run«
ning like a quarter-horse. Uncld
Shade thought if he could manage ta
kill the dog there would still be a
chance for him. His master was not
in sight, and it would be an easy mat
ter to slip down the bluff and so es+
cape. But, no; the dog was not to be
trapped. His training and instinect
kept him out of the oid negro’s reach.
Jeff made a mide circle around Uncle
Shade and finally stopped and bayed
him, standing far out of harm’s way.
The old negro took off his hat, fold«
ed it once and placed it between his
head and the tree as a sort of cushion.
And then the colonel came galloping
up, his horse in a lather of sweat.
He drew rein and confronted Uncle
Shade. For a moment he knew not
what to say. It seems as though his
anger choked him; and yet it was not
sO. He was nonplussed. Here before
him was the object of his pursuit, the
irritating cause of his heated and hur=
ried journey. There was in the spec
tacle that which drcve the anger out
of his heart and the color out of hisg
face. Here he saw the very essence
and incarnation of helplessness—an
old man grown gray and well-nigh
decrepit in the service of the family,
who had witnessed the very beginning
and birth, as it were, of the family
Qrtune.
What was to be done with him?
Here in the forest that was almost a
wilderness, the spirit of justice threat
ened to step forth from some conven
ient covert and take possession of tha
case. But the master had inherited
obstinacy and pride had added to the
store Anger returned to her throne.
(Copyright, 1881, 1883, 1909 and 1911,
by the Century Company: 1883 by Joel
Chandler Harris; 1911 by Esther Laßosa
Harris. ALIL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Printed by permission of and by special
arrangements with Houghton, Mifflin
iCOmpany-)
(To Be Concluded Monday.)
all need is the genuine sympathy and
good will of us all. Second, they need
a constructive, far-seeing plan for
their re-education. A year of the
training now being given in out
army, with the addition of a consid
erable regular schooling and voeca
tional guidance, would bring most
encouraging results. But the basio
physical training should be mog
complete.
But the point to be made em
phatic here is, if you want to make
certain that your boy will avoid the
wild and dare-devil career inherent in
the natures of all normal youths, be
gin early to build up his physique.
Do not waste his time and yours mere
ly with croquet or tennis or ping
pong and imagine such soft stuff to
be physical development, when it is
only pleasant amusement.
Get him a garden, a wood pile or
a work shop—something that will
malke him sweat and will harden his
rauscles. Make him earn every cent
he gets and see that he gets a plen
ty through honest work. Make him
start a bank account., Teach him
how to spend, to save, to give his own
money. Make him hate graft and
something for nothing.
Not one boy in a thousand but
wouid follow about the same crimi
rnal road as the two young bandits if
he had suffered from their careless
training. Not one boy in a thou
sand but ean be cured of the wrong
tendency if taken early and given the
ccurse which is here suggested.
S .
; Household Hlntsg
NN A NSNNN AN NN NSNS NN PTP
Not all peoble spray potato late
comers. One should, though, for these
varieties, since they remain longer in
the earth, are subject to potato dis
ease. The Burgundy mixture is best
and simplest to use, and (remember
this) choose a dry day for spraying.
Inrainy weather the good results may
be literally washed away.
* * *
To eliminate stains from a leather
bag apply the white of an egg, let it
dry in the sun and then rub it off. A
paste made of dry mustard, potato meal
and two spoonfuls of spirits of turpen«
tine applied to the spot and rubbed off
dry will also be found to answer tng
purpose.
. i
If you simmer sausages for about test
minutes before frying them you will findg
them very much nicer than when sim«
ply fried.
. - .
~ Mashed potatoes mixed with a Tlttla
essence of beef or fish paste, makes amy
excellent substitute for butter, .