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tlaile <£ollll lii cu*s.
TRENTON, GEORGIA.
Holland reclaims an average of eight
%cres per day from the sea and |the salt
■water is no sooner crowded out than cab
bage is crowded in.
It is reported from Cape May that if
the Government cannot be induced to
build the proposed channel from Cape
May to Atlantic City an effort will be
made to raise the money by popular sub
scriptions at the two resorts during the
summer.
The people of the Pacific Coast are
taking considerable interest in the Mel
bourne Exposition, which will be opened
in August, though why it should be held
in winter is not clear. It is expected
that there will be a very creditable ex
hibit of California products at the Ex
position .
Europe now has twenty-two cremato
ries, ten of them added within the past
year, while no less than 600 bodies have
been burned in Germany and 800 in
Italy. The United States have seven
crematories, with six building. Thus it
6eems, infers the New York Observer,
that prejudice against cremation is fast
abating.
If the Emperor Frederick should get
■well, the Sultan of Turkey will take no
small part of the credit to himself, for
he has sent the Emperor a collar consist*
ing of nine hazel nuts with inscriptions
from the Koran, over which the der
vishes and sheiks of the palace had
prayed, and which, as the Sultan assured
the German ruler, would cure him with
out doubt.
A prison revolt, which was not quelled
without much bloodshed, took place re
cently at Damanhour, Egypt, about
twelve miles from Alexandria. Two
prisoners in the jail who were under
sentence of death, aided by eighteen
other convicts, managed to make their
escape from the prison. The police at
once started in pursuit, but before they
could come up with them the prisoners
took refuge in a mosque. Here a des
perate fight took place, in which fifteen
of the prisoners were killed and two
were wounded, while the police had four
killed.
The Taos Valley of Colorado and New
Mexico is about to have a boom. A
company will soon irrigate the eutire
valley, bays a recent visitor: “The
beauties of the valleys of Southern Cali
fornia are much extolled by tourists as
well as by the inhabitants. Taos, how
ever, discounts anything in the Golden
State. The climate is much more de
lightful, and the enemies to vegetation
much fewer. None of the destroyers of
fruit which are common to California are
found in the Taos region, and I can as
sure you that watermelmons picked there
two years ago are good and fresh, and
fit for the table at the present time.”
A correspondent of the Philadeldhia
Ledger suggests that the court of the
new City Hall in that city should be
embellished with statues of eminent
Philadelphians, after the manner of the
Uffizi at Florence. He suggests, as ap
propriate subjects, William Penn, Ben
jamin Franklin, Benjamin Rush, Ben
jamin West, Bishop White, Stephen
Girard, John Fitch, Robert Fulton,
Robert Morris, Lindley Murray, Dr.
Kane, Charles Brockden Brown, Thomas
Buchanan Read, Bayard Taylor, Henry
C. Carey, Dr. Gallaudet, Horace Biuney,
Vice-President Dallas, Dr. Hayes, John
Welsh, and others.
Boulanger, the fleeting idol of the
rolatile French, is describ'd by the
Boston Transcript as “an off-handed,
rather open-hearted fellow, who likes to
please, delights in rendering services to
no matter whom, is charmingly gallant
to women of all ages and ranks, has an
elegant figure and a handsome face, a
winning smile, sits on horseback like a
centaur, and took when he was iff the
army as much enjoyment out of his fine
belongings as a child does out of its
Sunday clothes. He was really pictur
esque on his black prancing horse, sur
rounded by his staff. The rauk and file
adored him; for why? he gave them
clean beds, lavatories, mess tables and
plates, tumblers, knives and forks. For
men who had to spend three years at
least in the army this was a good deal.
Before the time of Le Beau General they
fed almost like hogs, each eating out of
a tin can, with his fingers or penknife as
best he could. The beauty of the thing
was that this change cost the taxpayers
nothing, it being clipped off contractors
and their patrons. Wilson didn't like it;
but Boulanger didn’t care. Boulonger
didn’t rare either whether influential
politicians took, when he was war minis
ter, in bad part his refusal to tame col
liers on strike by sending a military
force to their black country to dragoon
them. When the colliers were starving,
Boulanger telegraphed to the soldiers to
share their victuals with them. I don’t
think he did this to win popularity, but
merely from a kind impulse.”
Philip Fresemus, a New Haven (Conn.)
brewer, who died recently worth half a mill
ion dollars, in 1852 carried his kegs to his
customers on his shoulders.
According to an Atlantic City (N. J. j
correspondent a company has been formed
to operate there “as a pleasure scheme
the sea wagon, which was originally in
tended for a life-saving apparatus te
rescue people from vessels in danger. It
will be run out into the ocean every hour
with as many as choose to takff passage. ”
In as much as Australia is contemplat
ing prohibiting Chinese immigration
after the plan of the United States, it is
interesting to know that there are now
in that country 48,000 to 50,000 Chinese,
a number which is more than pei
cent of the entire population. They are
found in many branches of industry.
In Melbourne twenty years ago there
were only ten Chinese cabinetmakers,
and now there are 500. In North Queens
land the Chinese work as blacksmiths,
shoemakers, watchmakers, tailors, and
dairymen.
The inventors seem to have been spend
ing a great deal of talent on labor-sav
ing implements for barrooms of late.
The big city drinking saloons,constantly
rushed with business, have necessitated
the saving of time by machinery in every
way possible. Corks are now pulled by
machinery, ice is ground in machines
that closely resembles coffee mills, lem
ons are squeezed in ingenious presses,
measures of a fixed size are provided foi
gauging the right amount of liquor for a
cocktail, automatic printing presses in
stantly turn out checks of the denomina
tion in demand, special tools have been
made to pull the bungs from beer kegs,
and it is becoming difficult to see any
room left for new inventions.
Arbor Day has been observed more
generally and more enthusiastically this
year, announces the American Agricul
turist, than in any former year since the
day was established. It is noticeable,
both in the East and in the West, that a
special effort has been made to interest
the children of the public schools, and
their teachers and other school authori
ties, to engage in the work of tree plant
ing. Trees are set out in school grounds
and on the neighboring streets and road
sides, and so the highways and villages
are made more attractive. Parks, lawns
and churchyards, cemeteries and avail
able fields upon the farm, have been at
tended to, and the result is not only
millions of trees transplanted, but a very
encouraging prospect for the future.
America is called the new world, be
cause it was latest discovered by civilized
man, but geology teaches that some for
mations on this continent, in Canada and
in the Rocky Mountain range, are prob
ably the oldest bits of dry laud this
planet knew. Recent California papers
speak of discoveries indicating a race of
men inhabiting that State contempora
neous with the rhinoceros, mastodon and
other extinct animals. Many, parts of
this continent show indications of a great
flood, and no research throws
the theory that this may have been that
in which Noah and his family were the
only survivors. To this same direction
points the ancient legend, fully
by early writers, of the sinking of agieat
islander continent named Atlantis, where
ever since have rolled the billows of the
Atlantic Ocean. This globe has evi
dently been subjected to some strange
vicissitudes, and the American Conti
nent perhaps offers the best opportunity
for studying their nature and history.
According to she Epoch, “a Chicago
photographer is about to perpetrate a
joke on his contemporaries which is
worthy of the severest reprehension. He
is nearing the completion of a collection
of some ten thousand persons who are
deemed celebrated by the more or less
unanimous testimony of the American
public in this day and generation, and is
to commit it to a memorial safe which
he has arranged to deposit in the City
Hall vaults and have opened in 11)76, the
second centennial of the United States.
He proposes to emphasize this atrocity
by putting in with the pictures, brief
biographical sketches of their subjects.
To appreciate*the hilarity which this is
calculated to excite among our posterity,
let us suppose that it had been possible
to deposit in a place of safety a thousand
or two portraits of the men deemed cele
brated in 1776. We should, probably,
have had most of the familiar names of
history, but in what extraordinary com
pany! And in these days of newspaper
notoriety, think of an assemblage of 10,-
000 ‘celebrated personages’ whose fame
is expected to survive some ninety years!
If it be good to give posterity a laugh at
our expense, the plan has something to
commend it, but who would not pray to
be delivered from preservation in this
photographic cenotaph?”
The Hangman's Bric-a-Brac.
Hangman Joe Atkinson, New. York’s
official executioner, lives on Evergreen
avenue, Brooklyn, and his spouse is a
person whose aspect gives token that she
is fully able to hold her own—and her
husband’s as well in an emergency. But
what a home it is to rear a child in. In
the center of the mantel in the little
parlor stands the most conspicuous orna
ment in the place. It is a miniature
scaffold,complete in all its appointments,
and from it swings the body of a man
carved in wood. Beneath there waits an
undertaker’s wagon, containing a coffin
to receive the body. This pretty piece
of bric-a brsu; is ever before the family,
and, strange as it may appear, conveys
to th ru no sense of ghastliness or un
propriety. —New York (Star.
A. VOICE.
The rain makes music at midnight,
Dripping from rafter and eaves,
Blown hither and thither by mad-cap
Wind on the twittering leaves.
Its sound has solace for sorrow,
Touching the heart-cords o’er
So softly, oh, so softly!
Sweet as the lutes of yore:
But sweetest of all sweet music,
Making my heart rejoice,
Comes over the dew-damp meadow
Tenderly, true—-a voice!
—Charles Knowles Bolton, in Century.
A PHOTOGRAPH.
Hillbourn Pi.ach Feb. 7.
Dear Jack: The fur coat is a pronounced
Success, i saw you to-day when I was driv
ing, and was forcibly* reminded of Solomon
in liis glory. Have you forgotten your
friends of old in their clothes also of old?
One would think so, as it's been ten days
since you were here.
The rest of the family are going to the
Porters’ to-night, but I shall stay at home
and console myself with Beethoven, Sydney
Lanier, and you, if you'll come, for 1 have
something to show you. A woman’s head,
painted from a photograph, which I finished
only yesterday. It isn't bad. Affectionately,
Cara.
The Club, Feb. 7, ’B6.
Dear Cara: Yours just received. It
seems almost unnecessary to tell you how
glad I shall be to come. Devotedly,
Jack.
“It isn’t,” said Cara a few hours later,
as she pushes the ottoman to' an easier
distance, and turns a beautiful, fire
flushed face toward Jack, “it isn’t that
this winter has been much worse thau
the other two, but t’ve been thinking,
and as it's a luxury I don t often allow
myself, I have mental dyspepsia as a re
sult.”
“Mental dyspepsia!” says Jack scorn
fully; “it’s the result of sitting out all
the square dances with Willoughby in
that draughty conservatory of the Mars
ton's.”
“I refuse to understand.” says Cara,
smiling.
“You can’t! Your intellect won’t al
low you.”
“Speaking of intellect,” viciously,
“somehow makes me think of your
friend, .Miss Marston. How is she?”
“I don’t know why it should. She’s
well.”
“Do you intend to please your father
and marry her?”
“I don’t know, Cara. If the worst
comes to the worst, 1 suppose I shall
have to.”
“I should think that would be an ex
act statement of the case—the worst
coming to the worst.”
“Don’t be any more severe than you
can help,” says Jack, laughing. “You
don’t know what it isto be poor.”
“I almost wish I did,” Cara answers,
“I might then have amounted to some
thing as an artist.”
“You need hardly wish that, for, as it
is, you are the best amateur ”
“That’s it,” Cara breaks in impatient
ly. “Amateur, amateur, always am
ateur 1 I want to be an artist. Of late
I have had thoughts of giving my money
to found a home for other weak-minded
women, and living in Paris on 10 sous a
day, and the divine afflatus; only, as
Hawthorne says: ‘The great obstacle to
being heroic is the doubt whether one
may not be going to prove oneself a
fool.’ ”
“One doesn’t like to be too precipitate
after a remark of that kind,” says Jack,
meditatively, after a little pause, during
which Cara has risen and seated herself
at the piano, where she is lazily striking
minor chords.
“Is that what has kept you from being
too precipitate? Jack, what makes you
bo lazy?”
“Lack of incentMp. Don’t scorn.”
“I wish I could * .ake you feel your
possibilities for yourself as I feel them
for you.”
asked you to try once and you re
fused.” Jack laughs when he says it,
but try as he will his voice falters as he
speaks.
Cara blushes, and then says: ‘Hf we
hadn’t outlived a great deal of the non
sense of our lives, we could not be the
thoroughly good friends we are now.
Come and let me introduce you to a wo
man who I think is worth a man’s love.
She’s over in the library. I remember
your dislike to climbing and had her
brought down.
Jack offers her his arm and together
they walk the whole length of the draw
ing room, across the hall to the library,
the greater part of which is in shadow,
the one bright light being directly over
the picture.
Only a picture of a woman's head and
the curve to the shoulders; ruddy chest
nut hair that curls mistily around a face
in which sweetness and firmness are
strangely intermingled: great irised gray
eyes—eyes with all the poetry and pas
sion of Cabanel’s Venus; a clear, almost
delicately colorless skin, save for a
warmth in mouth and cheek; and, yet,
with all the yielding beauty of woman
hood, there is an intellectual vigor and
strength in the face which one seldom
sees save in the faces of men who have
“suffered and been strong.”
“It is by far the best thing you have
ever done,” says Jack, after a few min
utes of admiring silence. “Hay I see
the photograph?”
“It’s behind the Mona Lisa; not a
very good one, but the best I could get.”
“I should say it wasn’t a very good
one. It must have been done by some
amateur photographer, judging from the
finish. But, Cat a, how much the eyes
here are like your own!”
“They tell me so. Ah! Jack. I re
gret to see that you are regarding her
more as a woman than as au artistic pro
duction.”
“I’m afraid I am. Do you know her
well? Why have I never seen her;”
“Now,” says Cara, “you have made
me jealous and, like a wise woman, I
refuse to talk of my rival. On Thursday
night the five members of our art class
are coming with Herr Blum to my box
to hear Bernhardt. We will come to a
little supper; you will sing us some
Schubert; Eugenie will play us the
Apassionata; you will meet your ideal;
we will persuade ourselves that ‘every
loss has a gain to match,’ and for
get ” “how miserable we shall all be
the next morniug. ’ Jack finished for
her.
“Pessimist!” says Cara, smiling; “will
you come?”
“Do I ever refuse an invitation from
you?” as he rises preparatory to taking
his leave.
“Then it is settled. If you care to you
may take the photograph with you.”
“Thank you,” he says, slipping it
into the pocket of his great coat.
“Now I am going back to the bread
and butter part of existence. There’s
something almost dreary in the per
sistency with which one and one are
two, isn’t there?”
“There have been cases”—what a
coquette the girl is!—“there have been
cases where one and one made one.”
He has taken her hand to say good
night, as she speaks, and a passionate
light comes into his eyes at her words.
“Ah, Cara, ” he says impulsively, “if I
only thought ”
“Don’t think,” she answers, “consult
the proper mathematical authorities.”
Du Thursday night Jack, having
made a very careful toilet and mislaid
everything with a cheerful sense of the
entire responsibility of Betty, the
chambermaid, takes a last look at the
photograph which occupies the place of
honor over his dressing case, before set
ting out to meet the original. “Some
thing will probably have happened to
keep her at home—or—something.
There's always a hitch somewhere,” he
soliloquizes as he leaves the house.
It is the middle of the first act when
he reaches the box. Cara smiles as he
enters. The rest of the party are com
pletely absorbed, but he can see that she
is there. Her back is toward him, but
surely ouly one woman could have hair
like that, and wear black lace the way
she does. Jack suddenly remembers ’ ; s
ideal costume for a woman has always
been made of black lace.
And Cara? Well, Cara is a very beau
tiful woman, but then she could never
give much love to anyone, and what
emotional gymastics she would require
of the man to whom she was married.
As the curtain falls the orchestra be
gis “Weber’s Last,” and Cara motions
him toward her. “Eugenie,” she says,
I leaning forward, “Eugenie, let me pre
; sent my friend—” Jack doesn’t hear the
rest, for the lady turns and he sees a
fascinatingly ugly woman with a de
lightful directness of gaze, who acknowl
| edges the introduction in the middle of
a remark which she is making to Lieu
tenant Willoughby. Jack glances ap-
I pealingly at Cara, who is rather suspi
j ciously engaged in a leisurely survey of
the house through her glasses.
“There’s Mrs. Dunbar,” says Cara’s
| aunt, leaning forward for abetter view.
“She has succeeded in engaging her
daughter in the army.”
“Did I hear you say,” laughs Cara,
i “that her dearest wish is accom
! plished?”
“No,” says Mrs. Lorrimer. “One
doesn’t say those things, my dear.”
“Let us consider, then,” says Cara, de
murely. “that no one has spoken. ”
“I have been having something of that
sensation all the evening,” says the lieu
■ tenant. “Bernhardt’s French must be
provincial; I can’t understand her.”
There is a little laugh, in the midst of
which Jack pauses abruptly; for in
Mademoiselle LeCroix’s face, as she
smiles, he suddenly sees, almost ghost
like, an expression of the protograph. It
is gone before he can be certain, and she
has turned from him to Mrs. Lorrimer,
who is saying plaintively: “i wish Bern
hardt would play in English.’’
“If some one would suggest it to
her,” says Jack, “she would probably
sit up late one night and learn the lan
guage.”
“Did I ever tell you,” said Eugenie,
turning so that Jack again has a full
view of her face, “of an experience I
had when I was first learning your Eng
lish? No? I was just at the point
where I found for myself that you wrote
one language and spoke another, when
one evening I had the good fortune to
meet General Law-on. You know his
reputation as a conversationalist, and I
wished to convey to him an idea of the
pleasure which I felt at meeting him, so
I said impressively in broken English:
‘I am glad to meet you, General, as I am
making a special study of American
idiots.’” His composure was superb.
He never faltered for a moment. His
face had all the calm of one eternal Sab
bath, as he answered, suavely: “This is
the only time in life, mademoiselle, when
I feel that I can fully justify a pre
judged opinion.”
Jack w r atches her w 7 hile she speaks,
and again sees the subtle something that
reminds him of the picture. A curve to
the cheek, an expression in the eye, an
indefinite something surely suggests it to
him, and yet, as Cara sat listening with
a half smile on her lips, she might her
self have been the theme of w 7 hich the
painting was the finished harmony. .
“If this thing keeps up,” said Jack,
“my mind will be a mosaic. I shall
speak to Cara about it when I get an
opportunity.” But he doesn’t get an op
portunity, for just then Cara announces:
“Ah! there i 3 Helen, now, Eugenie, and
our cousin is with her.”
He takes a long breath and feels him
self a sane man again. Here, at last, is
a solution of the problem. A mutual
cousin i; the original: nothing more
likely. He returns Cara's glance in a
manner which intimates that he under
stands the situation at last, aud awaits
with interest the entrance of the tw r o
ladies. There is a little rustle just out
side the box; a man’s voice heard in a
tone of remonstrance: a woman’s low and
self-contained, and the lad£ herself stands
at the door of the box. A woman in the
prime of life, with that repose of manner
which comes after one has found that
things are neither white nor black, but
only neutral tint, and has ceased expect
ing much—one whose social angles have
been rounded into curves, and who is
seldom found holding those unsatisfac
tory opinions which we denominate “op
posite.”
“Mrs. Carter,” says Cara.
“Delighted,” murmurs -Jack.
“Helen will be here in a few minute®.
She stopped at the Marstons’ box to set
tle about some engagement with them.
Dick will bring her over here.”
Stie seems to have a great many en
gagements with them of late,” says Mis 3
Le Croix.
“Only one—with Dick—l think,”
laughs Mrs. Carter. “Bless their inno
cent hearts, these children! They think
I don't see.”
“You have missed the best act of the
play on account of that ‘At Home’,”
says Cara.
“I know it,” the lady responds. “I
am a martyr to my friends: but Herr
Blum said something almost witty, and
that consoled me. He says,” she con
tinues, turning to Jack, “that Bern
hardt’s full face looks like a profile.”
“It was Heine who said it first,” sayf
Herr Blum.
“He always attributes everything he
says to some one else. It relieves him of
so much responsibility,” Mrs. Carter ex
plains amiably to Jack. And, as she
does so. with a smiling, strong, restful
face, Jack grasps nervously at the chair
on which he sits, as if to steady himself,
for incongruous and inexplicable as it
may seem, she also reminds him of that
picture. Not in the lines of the face,
certainly, but rather in its entirety, its
strength, its repose
“Well, the worst has come,” thinks
he, rising with determination. “While
the last faint spark of intelligence re
mains I will make my way home. If I
don’t go soon I shall have to betaken?”
“You are not going,” says Cara. “Not
before Helen comes, anyhow. See! She
is here now.”
Jack takes one look at the girl who
enters, and turning to Cara, says:
“My dear girl, 1 am losing either my
brains or my eyesight.”
“It must be your eyesight,” laughs
Cara.
“Oh!” savs Jack, desperately; “you
don't understand. I see resemblances to
that pictured face in sections everywhere.
In you, in Miss Le Croix, in this* Helen,
ana just now I notice that even Herr
Blum looks a little like it.”
“You have the photograph on your
brain,” answers Cara, so that Eugenie
hears.
“.-speaking of photographs,’’says she,
“makes me think of a new theory of
Herr Blum. He thinks if we could get
a composite photograph of people’s
brains, as we can of the r faces, it would
be an easy way of getting the average in
telligence.”
“A composite photograph!” Jack
caught at the phrase with frantic hope.
“A composite photograph is ?”
“A composite photograph,” echoes
the Professor, settling himself to be in
structive, “is obtained by exposing dif
ferent photographs of the same size, for
the same time, on the same sensitized
plate. These ladies were taken in this
way recently, and it made a beautiful
face. “How could it do other ?” he ad
ded, simply enough.
“Apropos of your explanation, Pro
fessor,” said Jack, “I have a story to tell
of a friend of mine, who was the victim
of an unparalled joke.”
"Mrs. ,” says Cara rising, “is
beckoning to me, and I think I shall go
and speak to her for a moment, if you’ll
excuse me. Will you come lieutenant?”
“You had better stay'and defend your
self,” says .Jack, “for I’m going to tell.”
“I shall need no defence here, I am
sure,” she says, laughing softly. “Au
revoir!”
Three weeks after, as Jack and Cara
stand before the newly framed picture, I
he says: “It was rather shabby of you j
to do it, but I forgive you, and am just j
as much iu love with it as ever.”
“That’s discouraging,” says Cara, j
“You can’t marry them all.”
“Unfortunately, no. Utah is remote, i
I might do it in turn. Who sat first:”
“1 refuse to tell you,” says Cara; but
she colors slightly as; she speaks.
“Your eyes have told me already,” he
answers, and there, for a minute, they
regard each other steadily. She has so
much and he so little. She has refused
I him once before, and yet—of late, he
has almost dared to hope—
“Do you think, Cara—that you ever
i could love ” His eyes finished the sen
i tence for him, and he reaches his hands I
toward her with infinite longing.
“I think,” she says, smiling a little, I
as she lays her hands in his, “that !
I might—if I xvere sufficiently urged.”
And then, with one of those passionate j
veerings that he knows so well. “I
think I have always loved you, Jack.”
Ten days later she receives a note, !
over which she smiles, as it has been but I
a few hours since he left her:
To Mrs. Jack Hannaford (that will be):
When did you say that you would form
that composite which will make you Madam
Me. I want to see a statement of the fact in
your own writing. Yours, Jack,
To which she answers;
You spoke of next month when you were
here. Let it be the 12th. With all mv love
and sympatdy for the terrible future before
you. Lovingly, Cara. j
Washington Star.
; WISE WORDS.
Theffc fs no worse thief than a loaT
book.
We want not time, but diligence, for
great performances.
A man may be young in years, but old
in hours if he improves them.
The best things in life cannot be bor
rowed, they must be all our own.
11l fortune never crushed that man
whom good fortune deceived not.
A brain might as well be stuffed with
sawdust as with unused knowledge.
It is not what we knorv that makes
education, it is the use we make of it.
Age does not depend upon years, but
upon what experience has taught us.
He who has less then he desires should
know 7 that he has more than he deserves.
Act well at the moment, and you have
performed a good action to all eternity.
Those who would thoroughly know
themselves have a life w 7 ork before them.
It is better to be doubtful than to de
pend wholly upon the wisdom of others.
You are as great and grand as any
body else, if you have a great and grand
soul.
Who would have time to study
theories, if existing facts were first di
gested ?
Knowledge is like money; the more it
is circulated the more people get the
benefit of it.
Service is the end of gran. Service is
the necessity of man. Service is the
glory of man.
The more heated the discussion be
tween friends, the cooler their subse
quent relations.
If we hope for things of which ws
have not thoroughly considered the
value, our disappointment will be greater
than our pleasures in the fruition of
them,
A I’oet of Taste.
I never had a sw'eet gazelle
To glad me with its soft black eye—
But I would love it p issing well.
Baked in a rich and crusty pie.
If I could have a bird to love
And nestle sweetly in my breast,
All other nestling birds above;
T.V.: turkey—stuffed—would be that bird.
—Philadelphia News.
HOUSEHOLD AFFAIRS.
A New Soup.
Take eight large potatoes and thres
onions; cut them in small pieces and boil
them in a.pint of water until soft.- Pass
them through a fine colander. Have
ready two quarts of skimmed milk; b**tl
it; add a very little powdered mace and
one piece of loaf sugar, a pinch of
cayenne and the puree of potatoes.
When all boils together, thicken the
soup with two tablespoon fills of potato
flour or ordinary flour. Before pouring
tlie soup into the tureen, place in the
latter a tablespoonful of butter. Fry
some crutons in good beef dripping and
serve them with the soup, but on a sep
arate dish.— T‘‘ulu.
A Simp’e Sideboard.
A simple and inexpensive sideboard,,
which does good duty and is very ap
propriate iu the modestly furnished
house, is made of a plaiu deal table about
two-thirds the width of the ordinary
kitchen table, with a shelf fitted below.
Stain this to imitate old oak with a mix
ture of raw Sienna, burnt Sienna and
Vandyke brown thinned to the proper
consistency with sizing. Hang some
plain shelves above, either stained or
covered with felt cloth, to hold orna
mental pieces of china and glass. Lay
upon the top of the table a scarf of
butcher’s linen, with knotted fringe,
and further ornamented with drawn
work dr outline designs in washable
silks, and then will be had a sideboard of
which no one need be ashamed.— Prairie
Farmer.
Unique Use for Broomsticks.
Broomsticks are not such useless arti
cles after all. Aside from the proverbial
use as a woman’s weapon, the broom
stick can serve as an ornament. Three
of these with a ho e bored half way be
tween the ends and Led together, and
when left to fall into tent-shape form the
legs of a very unique little table. A
square, or circular, or indeed any shaped
piece of board makes a top. Now cover
this top with plush or velvet. Crazy
silk patch work used to be seen, but
this, like its friends, the bedquilts, are
being discarded. The broomsticks are
pretty, gilded. Tie the legs with broad
ribbon and place on the bow a bunch of
grasses or flowers. Broomsticks ar
ranged in this tent-like shape can be used
for a gypsy kettle or most any kind of
hanging basket. Commercial Advertiser.
A Delicious Sandwich.
A very delicious sa idwich, for which
we are indebted to the French, is made
of puff-paste. After it is fully rolled and
folded, roll it out one-fourth inch in
thickness, and fold it evenly like a sheet
of paper. Then roll this out to an eighth
of an inch in thickness, and about twelve
inches in width. This sheet of paste must
be arranged in size to form a roll—when
rolled up—of two inches and a half in
diameter. Wet the edge so that it may
not unfoid again, then press it fiat until
it is reduced to three-fourths of an inch
in thickness; then with a sharp knife cut
it off in slices one-fourth of an inch in
thickness; lay these in the pan cut part
down, for they need room and will per
haps spread. After they are baked dust
them well with powdered sugur and re
turn to the oven, which must be very hot
in order to melt the sugar, which gives a
fine glaze. A salamander will glaze them
quicker than the heat of the oven, or you
may wash them over with the white of an
egg dusted with sugar. When finished
spread raspberry jam on them and fasten
two together. These are very delicious,
aud form a tempting looking dish. —New
York Post.
Recipes.
Jam Sauce.— A texcupful of water to
half a pot of jam; stir it and melt it on
the fire; then strain it and pour it around
your pudding.
Chocolate Pudding.— Melt one half
pound of butter and stir into it one
pound of flour, one-quarter pound sugafi,
one pint of milk and the yolks of three
eggs. This pudding can either be
steamed or baked.
Lyonaise Pototoes. —Cut one pint
cold boiled potatoes into small pieces
and season them with pepper and salt;
add one teaspoonful chopped parsley;
put a teaspoouful butter on the fire in a
saucepan: when hot add a slice of onion;
fry brown; add potatoes, and fry to a
light brown.
Puree oi' Pea«. —Wash a quart of peas
which have been already* hulled, put
them in a saucepan with three pints of
water, very little salt and pepper, half
an ounce of ham and an onion cut in
slices. Boil until soft, then drain off
the water and rul) the peas through a
colander. Heat again on the fire, add
ing two heaping tablespoonfuls of butter
and a pinch of sugar. Serve very hot.
Slaw Dressing.— Heat together to a
boiling point in a stewpan, a gill of
vinegar and an ounce of butter. Stir in
an egg well beaten and a gill of sweet
cream. Season to taste aud pour over
finely-chopped cabbage. Another way
is to mix together a gill of water and a
gill of vinegar; thicken with half an
ounce of flour. Cook two minutes, add
an ounce of butter and season to taste.
Stewed Rhuraril — Wash, peel and
cut into two-inch pieces, then into strips,
one pound of rhubarb. Put into a
porcelain-lined saucepan, add three
quarters of a pound of granulated sugar,
cover, and boil fifteen minutes. Lift
the saucepan from the range and twist it
back and forth to prevent the rhubarb
burning or sticking to the bottom.
Turn it into au earthen dish or bowl in
stead of metal ware.
Florida’s Great Salt Water Fish.
The tarpon, the great salt water fish
caught in Florida, is making its ap
pearance in the taxidermist stores in this
city. Some of them are more than four
feet long, and weigh from 100 to 200
pounds. They are distinctly of the
salmon family, and, although caught
with hook and reel, efien busy a fisher
man for two hours before they are landed.
During the battle they are likely to carry
his boat like mad through the water.
They are such pretty conquests to the
fisheimen that few of them mind paying
forty or fifty dollars to have the body
of their biggest fish stuffed, varni-hed,
and mounted on a great panel of plush
for exhibition in their dining rooms
—New York Sun.
A woman in New York died recently
from the effects of swallowing four false
teeth on a rubber plate.