The Bamberg herald. (Bamberg, S.C.) 1891-1972, November 30, 1899, Image 1
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- ESTABLISHED 1891. BAMBERG-, S. 0., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 30, 1899. ONE DOLLAR PER YEAR.
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** DOROTHY'S **
*, PRODIGAL **
# *
A Thanksgiving Story.
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^ ^14 4 4 0 4 ?4 4 4 ^ 4
"Well, 1 don't s'pose anybody ever
saw the likes o' that!" said Miss Polly.
The thing that nobody ever saw the
like of was a tear, it naa roueu uuwu
Miss Polly's wrinkled cheek and fallen
on her hand. While she looked at it
curiously another tear slipped down
the other cheek and dropped beside its
fellow, where it glistened as her hand
trembled.
"Well, I vowl" murmured Miss Polly,
in amazement.
Words could go no further. When
Miss Polly "vowed," there was nothing
more to be said. All this was because
the physician had come in from
the other room and had said In his
genial way:4
''She's ever so much better this morning,
Miss Polly. I think she'll pull
through."
That was how it happened that the
two tears were glittering on Miss Polly's
hand. They were very inconsistent
tears, and Miss Polly had always
been consistent. It was like turning
her whole life wrong side out, and she
realized it In the first place, Miss
0
"YOU ABB AU2ST POLLY." SHE SAID.
Polly had never been an attractive woman.
She was grim and harsh and
hardworking. She was really a Mrs.
Stephens, but she was married after
having been an "old maid" for some
^ years, and her old name still clung to
her. Her husband was a mild, quiet
man and had lived but a few years
after their marriage. People said that
Hiss Polly had "driven" him to death
and that he had been forced to die to
get a little rest.
There had been a child, too?ah, Miss
Polly's grim face took on a look of
pain when she thought of him!?a >
handsome^ high spirited boy, who
would not be "driven," and yet she had
tried to drive him. It had never occurred
to her that there was any other
* way. The result had been that he left
home when he was 15, and she had
never heard from him since.
From that day Miss Polly had grown
more grim than ever. She made friends
with nobody. She repelled everybody.
Her black eyebrows drew nearer together.
In a forbidding frown. Her :
voice grew harsher and colder, and
she became, as the years passed, more
gaunt and iron gray. Poor old Miss
Polly! People pitied her, but they
were wise enough to let her alone.
One day a letter came from a lawyer
In a distant city. It said that her only
sister, Mrs. Mary Alston, had died,
leaving her a considerable property "In
trust for my adopted daughter, Dodo- j
thy Carew." (
"Fiddlesticks V exclaimed Miss P,olly.
"Mary always was a fool!" And she
threw the letter into the fire.
A week later she saw a carriage
drive up to her gate and deposit there
a young girl, with her-trunk and boxes.
The girl paid the driver, and the carriage
went away, and then Miss Polly,
angry and amazed, went and stood in
the door, ready to warn the intruder
off. The girl came up the walk aod
looked straight into Miss Polly's face
With her pretty, frank brown eyes.
"You are Aunt Polly," she said. "I
know because I have seen your picture.
I am Dorothy Carew."
And then, before Miss Polly could
say a word, the girl took one of the
hard, wrinkled hands in both her own
and leaned forward and kissed the 1
withered cheek that had been unkissed
so long.
There was a moment's fierce struggle |
in the old woman's breast. Then she
said in her own grim way: 1
"I reckon I'll have to help you bring
in your things. There's nobody else."
She marveled at herself when she
fAnr>/1 Kareol# iicrerirxr o t tho k/MJTTTT
WUUU "VAWVM. **v v"v ^
? trank and helping this girl this Dorothy
Carew, whom nobody wanted, to
get her things into the hall and from
there into the "spare bedroom," which
had been unoccupied since her boy had
slept there.
"I wasn't a-lookln for you," she said
then, ungraciously enough, "but I
reckon you can stay a few days till
you git rested up."
"Oh, thank you!" cried Dorothy
sweetly. "This is a lovely old place,
Aunt Polly! How you must love ltT*
8he was looking out of the window
as she spoke. Inside the house everything
was bare and unattractive, but
when she glanced around her only
thought was. "How pretty It might be
made!"
She began making it that very day.
Even Miss Polly's stern face relaxed
when she looked in upon it that evening.
Pretty pictures and tiny shelves
with dainty silken hangings brightened
up the walls, and all about the room
were charming nothings that pleased
the eyes of the old woman. And yet
she did not acknowledge it. No, Indeed!
She said something sharp Instead
about "all that flummery" and
intimated that it was nothing more
than "a trap to catch the dust."
"Oh, I'll never let the dust get into
them!" said that strange girl brightly.
"And it is so easy to make a home
pretty!"
And then pretty things began to
bloom out all over me uuuse, e?eu iu i
Miss Folly's room, that stiff room with
Its hard bed and its straight backed
| cnairs. Somehow tne stianess sst tne
angularity melted away as If by magic.
Bits of bright ribbons looped back the
curtains. In one corner suddenly appeared
a little shelf with the daintiest
pink vase upon it and a rose in the
vase.
Oh, she was a wonderful girl, this
Dorothy! One day she went up and
laid her fresh young cheek against the
old woman's shoulder.
"Aunt Polly," she said, "I miss my
piano very much. I left it boxed up
ready to ship. Suppose we send for it"
And Miss Polly sent?grim old Miss
Polly, who had always considered music
of every kind an Invention of satan.
When the piano came and the people
saw it carried into that house, they
crowded around the gate and stood on
tiptoe and peeped over the fence. Several
were heard to declare that Miss
Polly was undoubtedly crazy. She came
out then and shook her fist at them,
and that was so much like her old self
that they concluded her mind was all
right after all. But, if not crazy, then
what?
And Dorothy's music! She liked best
to play when the twilight was in the
house, and the old woman would sit
over by the dim window and look at
the sunset sky and listen. Dorothy
knew little about classic music or brilliant
effects, but she could play many
of the old time pieces and 6ing them,
too, in a voice sweet and tender.
At last something happened that
showed the lonely old woman that this
was not quite so bad a world as she
had thought it and that she had even
misunderstood herself. Dorothy was
taken 111. It had seemed nothing but
a slight cold at first, but by the next
evening it was so much worse that
Miss Polly herself put on her bonnet
and ran for a physician. And so for
many days they battled with the disease
that had laid its hold upon the
young girl and would not give her up.
Then Miss Polly began to learn. People
that she had not spoken to in years
came to the door and asked if they
might help take care of Miss Dorothy.
An old woman that had been Miss Polly's
mortal enemy and whom she had
passed in the street a hundred times
with her head turned contemptuously
away now haunted the house with
dainty dishes which she hoped might
tempt the invalid.
Even the boys of the neighborhood,
between whom and Miss Polly there
had been bitter warfare, hung about
the gate now, and when their ancient
enemy appeared they asked her if they
couldn't "be sent on an errand or somettdn."
"I
didn't think she knew one o' these
people," said the bewildered Miss Polly.
"I didn't suppose she knew anybody
but me."
And so it came to pass that when the
doctor came out of that quiet room
one day and told Miss Polly that the
crisis was past and that Dorothy would
get well the old woman sat and looked
down at the two tears that had fallen
upon her wrinkled hands and said to
herself:
"Well, I don't appose anybody ever
saw the likes & that!"
One day, when the Invalid had grown
strong enough to sit up and was In the
great armchair all wrapped up in
blankets. Miss Polly said In her own
abrupt way:
"I'm goln to keep Thanksgivln, Dorothy."
Dorothy's eyes flashed with surprise
and pleasure.
"Don't yon?haven't you always kept
It?" she asked.
"No, I've never kept It I thought
the day was no thin to me, and so I
shut myself up and worked harder
than ever and hated other people for
makln so much of It But now this Is
different I'm goln to cook a good dinner,
my dear, and you shall ask the
guests for your part I reckon you'd
better invite the choir people, some of
'em, and Colonel Daly's daughter,
that* 8 been here to see you so many
times."
"No, Aunt Polly," was all that Dorothy
said, but her pretty pale face was
suddenly flushed, and her mind was
already busy with plans. What a
Thanksgiving they would htive!
"Cook ever so much, Aunt Polly,"
she said coaxingiy. "We shall want
the two long tables put together, and
I want them fairly filled, because the
people that will be here would not
have had any Thanksgiving at horn#.**
The next day Miss Polly stood at the
pantry window and watched the guests
come. The first arrival was that poor
old Mrs. Day, who had not walked a
Btep or been outside of her own miserable
house for more than 15 years.
Dorothy'B friends, the boys, had carried
her over, chair and all, in a kind
of triumphal procession, and when
they set the chair down they went outside
and gave three cheers for Dorothy
and three more for Miss Polly.
Then came three girls from the factory,
country girls, far from home and
with few pleasures that were safe
ones. In all that great, busy town nobody
remembered them but Dorothy, it
seemed.
Then there was the old gentleman
with the shabby clothes and the courtly
manners, the old gentleman that
Uved all alone In a little room at the
top of a big house. What a pretty
picture Dorothy made going out to
meet him and pretending that he was
assisting her up the steps when all the
time she was helping him!
And there were many others, enough
to fill the long table. Just as they |
were about to sit down Dorothy said:
"There's a poor tramp, Aunt Polly,
? ? *??- -
looking In at the gate, i Geneve i u gu
and ask him in."
Now, Miss Polly had been the sworn
enemy of tramps all her life, and she
started up suddenly.
"Drive him away, Dorothy!" she
cried. "I can't endure tramps."
"But perhaps he's hungry," said
Dorothy, turning her brown eyes full
upon Miss Polly. "And we have a
Thanksgiving dinner, and he hasn't"
Then she went out and they saw her
speak to the man and Invite him in.
After all, they were glad of It It was
too bad to think of any man going hungry
while that dinner awaited them,
and they cheerfully made room for
him at the table.
And such a dinner! Why, if Miss
Polly had been in training for It all her
life she could not have done better.
And there was a baby at the table, a
thin faced baby in the arms of a thin
faced mother, and when it cast one
look over the table It absolutely laughed,
a funny little quavering laugh, as
though it were not used to it. Then, in
a moment, everybody was laughing,
and there never was such a merry
crowd. Why, even poor old Mrs. Day
was laughing like a schoolgirl and declaring
that she liked any part of the
turkey, so there was enough of it
As for Miss Polly?well, there was
absolutely no accounting for her. There
she was, carving away as though her
life depended on it and flying here
and there around the table and replenishing
everybody's plate before it
was half empty. Her face was fairly
glowing with happiness.
j^Jid then all at once the little old
gentleman in the shabby clothes stood
up and leaned his trembling hands on
the table. He wanted to express his
v. t-. ^ ~ c ?11 4-"U
uwii uappjixess auu iimi ui an me
guests, he said, at the privilege of joining
in this blessed Thanksgiving feast
Some of them had been living hard
lives, very hard lives. Some of them
had feared, had even thought that
they were friendless and alone in the
world. He thanked heaven for their
hostess, who had made her home that
day a home for so many others, and he
thanked heaven for the lovely young
girl who carried sunshine wherever
she went
It was not a very eloquent speech,
but the greatest after dinner orator
could not have won heartier applause.
Even the baby cheered because the
rest did. But Miss Polly was still Miss
Polly, and she could take no praise
that was not hers.
"Don't give me credit for any o' it"
she said stoutly. "It was all Dorothy's
doin's. I've been a cranky old
woman for a good many years until
Dorothy got hold o' me and straightened
me out. I'm glad you did it Dorothy.
I always was a fool, a stubborn
old fool! If I only had my poor boy
back again, I'd be the happiest woman
in all the land!"
There were tears In Miss Polly's eyes
now, sure enough, and they rolled
down her cheeks without attracting
the least attention, for just then a wonderful
thing happened. The tramp
arose from the table, took off his ragged
coat pulled off his sunburned hair
THE LITTLE OLD GE5TLEMAN STOOD UP.
and his shaggy heard and stood there,
a tall, handsome young fellow. And
then the astounded company saw him
go around and take Miss Polly in his
arms.
"Here I am, mother," he said as he
kissed her. "And you are glad to see
me, after all?"
What a time it was! He told them 1
after awhile how he had so longed for
a glimpse of the old home that he had
determined to disguise himself and see
the house and his mother once more.
He had been in a distant city all these
years and was in business there and
prospering too.
"And to think how near I came to 1
drlvin him away from my gate at ;
last!" cried Miss Polly, her voice shaking'
at the very thought. ""And it was :
Dorothy that saved me from that!
Oh, Dorothy, you have saved me from
so much! And you have done it just
as though it was the easiest thing in 1
the world to take up a crabbed, sour
old woman and make her over again."
?Philadelphia Times.
HARVEST HOME.
1
Tluinksgiring Is a Day of Merry- j
making In Great Britain.
Thanksgiving day is more generally ]
observed in Great Britain than in any
other country, since it is one of the
few occasions when the nobility and
peasantry In a sense unite in "mating
merry." The day is better known
there as "harvest home," being one
marking that period when the harvest <
is in and the tenantry and peasantry
are given holiday. ,
As a rule, the nobleman or owner of
| estates makes the day one of continued
enjoyment, when his grounds are
given over to his subjects and all manner
of games and outdoor sports are
carried out In his castle or home
there is generally assembled a house
party, and the guests Join with the 1
host and hostess in making the day
one of happiness for the tenantry.
The day's pleasure is concluded by
what is known In this country as a
"barn dance." The decorations in this
ample place are significant of the harvest
and the ceiling and walls have
adornment of wheat in the most
beautiful designs. The music is always
of the very best and the owner of the
estate and his guests do their best to
make the occasion of great merriment.
Many a story is told by the English
novelists of how the pretty village
maids, in their rosy cheeks and smart
frocks, make jealous their country
lovers when blushingly they accept the
attentions of the young gallants of the
nobility. On the other hand, the grand
dames in their satins and jewels grow
Jealous of the country lasses in their
fresh beauty and taunt their knight
errants for turning by their compliments
the heads of "pretty peasantry."
Provinna tn the dances there are fro
quently theatricals, and wealthy estate
owners have been known to engage the
best of London companies to entertain
their people at the time of "harvest
home."?Atlanta Constitution.
Roast SndLTng- ?-fg.
The whole young pig roasted and
stuffed, thrusting into the air four
juicy trotters to the turkey's two,
while not yet by any means as popular
a Thanksgiving dish as the turkey, is
coming every year to engross more and'
more of the people's attention and appetite.?Cincinnati
Post
"I
IstOUR OWN *,
** FESTIVAL JJ*
I? -? ? ? X ,
Jf If
jf* Thanksgiving: Peculiar to This Jf
Jf Country. IT 'j
* I
ftf <l * ^ ? '<t r4 ?*?*'? c*
^5*/ LTHOUGH the
(A ? first Thanksgiving
differed very materially
from its successors
in that it i
was proclaimed as a fast and not as a
feast, it terminated in a festivity. Supplies
had run short, the ships expected <
from England were delayed, and extinction
threatened the "governor and
company of Massachusetts Bay in New
England." Winthrop and his council
decided to hold a day of prayer and ab- i
stinence, "so that ye Lorde be propitiated
and looke upon his servants
with favor in that they have humbled i
themselves before him." Accordingly
a crier was sent about the primitive .
settlement at Charlestown, and the ]
colonists were each and all invited to
take part in the fast. Their sacrifice j
met with speedy reward. -I
Scarcely had the noon hour of the al- i
lotted day arrived when the long hop- i
ed for ship made its welcome appearance
in Massachusetts bay, the cargo,
was landed, and the fast was succeeded
by a banquet of a sort which must i
have seemed sumptuous indeed to the
exiles so recently plunged in hunger
and hardship. On the threshold of i
dreaded winter Winthrop and his fol- j
lowers found what had been a pros- |
pect of fear and peril changed into one (
of happiness and hope. Such was ]
America's first Thanksgiving as cele- j
brated 260 years ago. Thereafter each t
succeeding November was marked In j
the annals of the colony by a similar 1
festival of gratitude. 3
But Thanksgiving in the early days j
of our history was not confined to the
New England pioneers alone. Jnst 15 ]
years after Winthrop's proclamation? i
1. e., in 1645?Governor Kieft of the )
Dntch colony, then known as Nleuw ]
Amsterdam, but now as New York, or- i
dered the observance of a day of rejoicing
and thanks "for the rest and ]
peace which God had been pleased to <
bestow upon his servants." j
The next notable Thanksgiving day ;
in history fell in 1758. On that date ;
the British and colonial army, com- f ]
manded by General Forbes, attacked ]
and captured from the French, after j
a fierce struggle, Fort Duquesne, at ]
the Junction of the Alleghany and Mo- ,
nongahela rivers. The name of the
place was changed to Fort Pitt and j
was the nucleus of the city of Pitts- |
burg. Thus in a special sense the his- ;
tory of the great capital of the coal and iron
industries is connected with the |
celebration of Thanksgiving day. i
But meanwhile In New England what
had been begun as an occasional day of i
pious rejoicing had assumed the pro- i
portions of a fixed national holiday, i
In Massachusetts and New Hampshire l
It was especially popular. There was 1
at first great latitude in regard to the '
day selected for the feast. Gc vernors
proclaimed the chosen date arbitrarily, j
and no effort was made to keep the anniversary
of Winthrop's proclamation.
Sometimes Thanksgiving ocurrced In
July, sometimes In midwinter. At ,
length, through the efforts of the president
and professors of Harvard col- j
lege, it was practically fixed upon the
last Thursday In November . j
In the south Thanksgiving as an annual
festival remained practically un- (
known until In 1855 the curious Vlr
girua controversy on uie buujwu woo g
precipitated. This controversy, which [
Is not generally known, deserves a brief
notice. The governor of Virginia at the
time was one Johns, a patriotic and t
broad minded gentleman, who had al- t
ways entertained a reverence for the c
Puritan anniversary which was by no
means common below Mason and Dix- t
on's line. Governor Johns, in a letter
to the state legislature, urgently rec- t
ommended the recognition of Thanks- i
giving in Virginia and offered, in case
his recommendation proved satisfac- a
tory, to at once Issue a proclamation.
But the legislature of Washington's
state did not look upon the New Eng- j
land holiday with favor. Governor j
Johns was advised not to make the i
Thanksgiving proclamation, and, as he ]
did not do so, the matter was allowed i
temporarily to drop. But public inter- j
est had been awakened, and before j
long a fierce debate was raging in Vlr- j
ginia between the opponents and sup- j
porters of the proposed southern j
Thanksgiving. At last, in 1857, Govern- j
or Wise, Johns' successor, took the j
metaphorical bull by the horns and Is- j
sued a proclamation setting apart a j
day for the feast His action caused J
much angry criticism, and several j
southern newspapers declared that I
Thanksgiving was simply "a relic of j
Puritanic bigotry." In spite of this, the j
innovation was warmly welcomed. The j
hospitable southerners greeted gladly j
another holiday, and the northern feast j
soon ranked among them as second in J
Importance only to the glorious Fourth j
itself. In 185^ the year after Wise's \
proclamation, no fewer than eight gov- j
ernors of southern states proclaimed j
Thanksgiving In their Sections. The j
war, however, coming shortly after- 1
ward, practically extinguished the j
popularity of the holiday in Dixie.? J
Washington Star. 1
ThankagirlDgr Evening.
Thanksgiving evening ought always j
to be spent at home. And let everybody i
have an open fire that can. Turn the j
kitchen over to the children If they
want It Let them have pumpkins to
make jack-o'-lanterns of or Cinderella
coaches, such as Miss Alcott describes
In "Little Men." Let them pop corn
and let them make molasses candy.?
Exchange. I
THE FIRST THANKSGIVING.
George Washington Was Born on Its
Anniversary.
Tradition makes Thanksgiving in
this country a legacy of the pilgrims
and Puritans, but it was not only the
English colonies, but those of the New
Netherlands also, which made attempt
at yearly celebration of a day of general
gratitude.
This week of recreation observed by
the Plymouth pilgrims was undoubtedly
much enhanced by Priscilla Moline's
rare culinary acquirements.
When provisions were at a low ebb,
her deft hands prepared many an appetizing
dish of the plainest stores, and
the "common house" under her superintendence
was a scene of banqueting.
Gentle Dame Brewster, whom Priscilla
loved so tenderly, was strengthened
much by her kind ministrations. Naturally
John Alden had his share, and in
t-q5t? \uiqo Rfon/UcVi Rnnfht to be first
tttiU KJ lUUUlk'U w v * -O - ?
with the fair maid who prepared the
viands.
There is a suggestive coincidence in
this statement in "Young's Chronicle"
of Massachusetts, "The first Thanksgiving
day on record in the colony of
Massachusetts was held Feb. 22, 1631."
On that day a century afterward was
born George Washington.
In 1675, the year in the history of
New England when the colonists
mourned their dead, sacrificed to Indian
ferocity, that pregnant silence
which speaks as no words can fell
upon everything. Wars and rumors
Df wars were sad realities which blotted
out the memories of all previous
privations and sufferings. The ever
present now was more than the settlers
could grapple with. That year
they kept no Thanksgiving in Connecticut
colony. The next year light broke,
find Thanksgiving was again celebrated?New
York Mail and Express.
THE NATIONAL FEAST.
Thanksglving'i Chief Feature la a
True American Bird.
The chief feature of the pational
feast is a national bird. The turkey
notwithstanding Dr. Samuel Johnson in
tils dictionary defined him as "a large
domestick fowl, supposed to be
brought from Turkey," is a true American.
Not a. hint of the existence of
this prince of fowls had the civilized
nations of the earth ever heard until
the year 1584, when the ancient voyagers
dropped anchor off Axacan, now
In North Carolina, then a part of what
was called Virginia, and, making a
landing one beautiful day In midsummer,
reported that they had seen deer,
snow white cranes and a certain large
TrrVtfnlt nnionttna Vt Q T7Ck fllnr?0
Lmu nmvu
to worship under the name of turkey.
His merits were quickly discovered
by the early "explorers and adventurers"
from other countries, as the Journals
of Captain John Smith, William
Byrd and their contemporaries attest,
?.nd it was not long before he was to be
Pound on the tables of Europe. BrillatSavarin,
of gastronomic and literary
fame, called him "the most beautiful
present made by the new world to the
old." Formerly very abundant, the
wild turkey is now to be found only
Ln small docks here and there in the
secluded glades of the Alleghany and
Blue Ridge mountains, in the Florida
wilds and^on the plains of the far
southwest Domesticated, the turkey
thrives and multiplies the world over.
"Handsome, golden, done to a turn,
scenting the room enough to tempt a
saint" and served with that peculiarly
savory New England production, cranberry
sauce, no one will dispute the
turkey's right to the sovereignty of the
rhanksgiving feast
"Did any one hear the dinner bell
rin#?"?Boston Herald.
Bow to Carve a Turkey.
Insert the carving fork across the
niddle of the breastbone.
Cut through the skin between the
jreast and the thigh.
Bend the leg over and cut off close
o the body and through the joint
Cut through the top of the shoulder
lown through the wing Joint
Shave off the breast in thin shoes,
ilanting from the front of the breast>one
down toward the wing Joint
fVirve onlv from the side nearest von.
Tip the bird over slightly and with
he point oI the knife remove the cry frier
and the small dark portion fonnd
>n the side bone.
Then remove the fork from the
>reast and divide the leg and the wing.
Cut through the skin between the
)ody and breast, and with a spoon renove
a portion of the stuffing.
Serve light or dark meat and stuffing,
is preferred.?Selected.
i[ A THANKSGIVING MENU. if
, Eavr Oysters.
i> Brown Bread Triangles i
J Clear Soup. Crated Parmesan Cbeefls |
i> Olives. Salted Peanuts. '?
? Roast Turkey with Chestnut Stuffing. ?
5 Bread and Giblet Forcemeat Balls, Chartaat i
5 Sauce. ?
J Cranberry Jelly. ,|
|> Hashed Potatoes. Baked Onions. ?
|> Hickory Nut and Celery 8alad. ti
I? Crackers. Cheese. ; i
11 Pumpkin Pie.
|> Glace Fruit and Nuts v
$ BREAD AND GIBLET FORCEMEAT ]|
|> BALLS.?Boil the giblets and chop fine; jj
jj mix with the meat an equal guantity of jj
g bread crumbs, and for each cuprul of meat ?
j? use one teaspoonful each of lemon iulce and ,f
I chopped paisley, one tablespoonfui each of %
jf Sour and butter, one saltspoonful each of ,(
g salt and thyme, half a saltspoonful of pep- Jf
Ig per, four drops onion luice and one beaten *1
egg. Mix, make into bolls the size of wsl- JH
g nuts and fry in butter. M1
CHESTNUT SAUCE.?Chop fine a pint of Jf(
chestnuts so they will cook quickly. When ,f
turkey is nearly done, pour off half a pint
of the stock In the bottom of the pam re- Mj
move all the grease, add a cup of boihna
water and boil the chopped chestnuts till jf,
fkwMio?K a ifinvA on/i Mnlrim tf!
? witi a tablespoonful of flour which has been J
jj mixed with two tablespoonfuls butter. V,
g? BAKED ONIONS.?Parboil 10 Spanish on- Si
f ions after they bare been peelea no may Ml
jfr be too many tf they are very large), drain )T
if them, put in a puading dish, sprinkle oyer SI
& them half a teaspoonful salt, a saltspoonfql If!
jr pepper, a tablespoonful butter out into bits Jfl
5 and half a cup cream. Bake^.% hours. Jfj
SOW TO DRESS THE TABLE. S
f one expects to give a Thanksgiving din- w.
. tinted autumn leaves should be Otb- V
a, waxed and pressed with a warm lion, w
:hing is more beautiful for decorating a ? |
inksgiving dinner table than the brilliant, V
icolored leaves arranged in designs or S
;wn carelessly over the snowy linen. A S
terpiece of any red autumn berries and t
? glossy
Thanksgiving Jn Old Virginia.
Old black mammy has a possum on to bake
With sweet potatoes, sweeter than a maple sugar
cake,
And her pickaninny's gone by the light of the
moon
With his yellow bellied puppy to tree a fat coon.
The coon lies a-grinning in the hollow of a gum
That the yellow hammer uses for his morning
drum,
While the gray squirrel chuckles in high old glee
At the hickory nuts a-raining from the hickory
nut tree.
The gray owl shivers on a dead oak limb
And blinks in the Bunshine, mellow and dim,
While molly cotton rabbit gives a half a dozen
hops
AnU bears her heart beating of a sudden and
stops.
The air is so fine and soft and clear
That the lence seems far and the mountains seem
TK1 the partridges fly to the fences and 'light,
, And call out a song about "old bobwhite!"
"Old bobwhite, are your crops all right?
Is there wheat beneath the barn for the first cold
night?
The guinea hens and turkeys find its shelter
mighty warm.
We'll gather in among 'em when there comes a
storm."
The wild turkey's calling from the far hillside;
The foxhounds are baying on the long divide;
There's a fat pig squealing, for life is sweet,
But not much sweeter than his sausage meat!
?John Paul Bocock.
Ckestnnt Stuffing.
Get two quarts of large French
chestnuts. Shell and boil them until
the skins are softened. Then drain off
the water and remove the skins. Boll
three pints of the chestnuts again until
soft. Then press through a colander.
Season with one and a half tablespoonfuls
of butter, one and a half teaspoonfuls
of salt and a quarter of a teaspoonful
of pepper. If moist stuffing la
desired, add three tablespoonfuls of
cream.
THE OLD STYLE PUMPKIN PIE
Some like a fancy custard pie
Or apple, mince or game
Or some newfangled article,
I 'low, just for the name- " ~
1 ain't bo p'tic'lar some I know
'-And different firdm the rest,
But the good old fashioned pumpkin pies
Are what I love the best.
T*?n V?nV?rln tnr > nlpOP riffht SOW
Of the pie that mother made.
When I came home from school, Fd get
v A hunk, and in Fd wade.
. And?pVhape my mouth is somewhat large 1
Though Fd resort to tears,
She wouldn't give me another piece
Because it mussed my ears.
Fve lingered here a lifetime since, j..
Put up with what I got,
But oft in dreams I'm bade again
To that old familiar spot, ;., I
And then at such times I can find
On the butt'ry shelf arrayed
A row of good old pumpkin pies.
The kind that mother made.
?Philadelphia Times.
Bsbsolling and Drains**,
A western correspondent who has
tried an experiment with snbsolllng
writes to The American Cultivator of
his disappointment in the result The
first year turned out as he had expected,
and there was an Increased crop.
But the next year the land settled
down harder and wetter than It was j
before, and he was completely discouraged.
Undoubtedly, says The Cultivator,
in this case the subsoil was a
heavy clay, and when it had been broken
up the water settled into It, making
the pulverized soil a muddy clay,
which, when dried out, was harder
than It was originally. The lesson from
this experience Is plain. It does no
good to heavy land to subsoil It without
first making a way to dispose of
the surplus water through underdrains.
On well drained land one thorough subsoiling
never entirely loses Its good
effect
Barrels or Boxes For Fruitf
"While the fruit box Is used almost
altogether for shipping California,
Colorado and Oregon apples to our
eastern markets and for export as
well and meets with the general ap
J .ll
proval of commission men ana rem tiers,
there seems to be an unwritten
law among these men that the western
apples and none others shall be packed
In such manner," says a writer In
Rural New Yorker. "It Is my firm 1
belief, based on actual experience, that
they are Justified in the stand they
have taken and in discouraging the use
of the box among eastern apple growers
and shippers. As much money
with less labor can be obtained by using
a full size, nicely coopered bar- 1
rel, neatly marked and stenciled, and, 1
above all, filled with honestly graded,
perfect fruit I have used both barrels
and boxes and find the former altogether
more satisfactory than the
latter. I think, however, that the box
may be used with profit for fine quality
pears, though it has been demonstrated
to me this summer that the
barrel is again foremost for style and ,
for money."
One Way to Keep Sqnaah,
Squashes and sweet potatoes are of
a similar nature and require the same
o?rp in Rtorincr awav. For keeDlnar
purposes the round squashes with
deep scallops are as good a variety as
I have found. Leave the squashes on
the vines until cool weather, but do
not let them freeze. After taking them
from the vines keep them in a dry,
airy place for about a month so that
they will thoroughly dry out Then
select only those in perfect condition
and wrap each separately In paper,
place in barrels or boxes and keep in a
dry, sunny room where they will not
freeze. An up stairs room over a room
where a fire is kept is an ideal place,
says an Ohio Farmer correspondent.
IN HONOR OF PRESIDENT DAVIS.
The Daughters of the Confederacy
Have Assumed the Responsibility
of Building the Davis Monument.
Mrs. Augustine T. Smythe, of
Charleston, has issued the following
circular to the Daughters of the Confederacy
in South Carolina, and has
also requested its publication in our
columns:
Charleston, S. C. Nov. 20,1899.
To the Officers and Members of
Chapter, South Carolina Division,
Daughters of the Confederacy?Ladies:
At the late convention of the Daughters
of the Confederacy, held in Richmond,
it was determined to accede to
the request of the Veterans and assume
the responsibility of erecting the longJ.l
J 4 4. T, T?
uuiaycu Luutiuuieiib wocuciduu xsavie,
President of the Confederate States.
This decision was not reached without
carefui thought and discussion; all the
delegates recognized the weight thus
laid upon the association, but they also
realized that upon the acceptance of
this burden of responsibility rested the
hope of an early accomplishment of
the work prooosed.
The Hon. J. Taylor Ellyson, mayor
of Richmond, Va., and president of the
Jefferson Davis Monument Association,
came before the convention and by his
explanation removed any impression
that indifference or inertness on the
part of the men bad occasioned the
proposal to transfer this work to other
hands.
Difficulties arising from earlier and
very expensive plans were such that
this change had become urgently advisable.
The following letter from Mr. Ellyson
gives a full report of the present
condition of the Jefferson Davis Monument
Association:
Richmond, Va., Nov. 13,1899.
Mrs. S. T. McCullough, Chairman
Jefferson Davis Monument Committee,
U. D. C.?Dear Madam; The Jefferson
Davis Monument Association was
organized in 1890 and chartered by the
General Assembly of Virginia. At
the meeting of the United Confederate
Veterans in Cnarleston, S. C., in May,
1899, a resolution was adopted requesting
the United Daughters of the Confederacy
to assume the responsibility
of the completion of this monument
and authorizing the Jefferson JJavis
Monument Association to turn over
any funds in their possession to the
United Daughters whenever they
should comply with the request of the
United Confederate Veterans. I had
the honor on Friday of submitting the
question for the consideration of the
convention of the United Daughters of
the Confederacy, then in session in
this city, and they adopted a resolution
by which they consented to comply
with the request of the Veterans
and endeavor to raise a sum sufficient
to erect a suitable monument to the
President of the Confederate States.
It is my pleasure to be able to report
to you that we have in our treasury
the sum of twenty thousand, four hundred
and sixty-live dollars and 31-100,
($20,405 31.) which we wiirturn over to
your treasurer whenever requested by
you to do so. Our association has no
debts of any sort and you will take up
the work without any embarrassments
on account of any action previously
t&xen by us. The idea of the United
Confederate Veterans was the* we
should turn over to you the funds we
have and that you would take up the
work as though it had never been begun.
You were at liberty to select
such design as you might think proper,
choose such a site in or near the
city of Richmond as you might prefer
and erect ^monument at such time and
at such cost as the United Daughters
might deem best
I beg leave to renew the assurance
heretofore extended that any assistance
that the members of the Jefferson
Davis Monument Association may
be able to render to the ladies will be
most cheerfully given. We believe
that under your energetic and loving
direction the task of building a monument
to Jefferson Davis will soon be
completed. Yours respectfully,
J. Taylor Ellyson, President.
W. D. Chester man, Secretary.
By vote of the convention an executive
.committee was formed, called theJefferson
Davis monument committee
of the U. D. C., consisting of a member
from each State. This committee
organized immediately by the election
of Mrs. S. T. McCullough, president of
the Grand Division of Virginia, U. D.
C., as its chairman, and Mr; J. S.
Ellett, of Richmond, the bonded treasurer
of the Jefferson Davis Monument
Association, as treasurer.
With this committee is associated
an advisory board of five gentlemen,
members of the Jefferson Davis Monument
Association, the Hon. J. Taylor
Ellyson, chairman. The South Carolina
delegation selected me to represent
the State on the executive committee,
subject to the approval of the
State Division, which was given at its
convention in Greenville.
As your representative on that committee
it is my duty to beg that your
chapter will, as soon as possible, take
steps towards the accomplishment-of
the object set before us by our association?that
of erecting a monument to
Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederate
States.
All other appeals seem weak when
compared to this, and I entreat that
all other plans for work may be temporarily
set aside until this duty be
ful filed.
In honoring the memory of President
Davis we build a monument to
the principles of the government he
represented?principles, which are now
being acknowledged as right even by
many who fought against them.
The task before us is not unduly
heavy. Authorities say that a suitable
monument can be put up for $50,000.
With strong, concerted action
on the part of Southern women success
will be sure, and the JJaugnters 01 tne
Confederacy may well feel that their
organization has not been in vain if it
can be made the means of bringing
about a consummrtlon so ? heartily
wished for by all who revere the memory
of the " Lost Cause."
The committee will be very glad to
hear of any elfort on the part of your
chapter to raise funds for mis monument
and if any further information or
suggestion in my power is desired
please call upon me.
Mrs. Augustine T. Smythe.
Member for South Carolina of Jefferson
Davis Monument Committee, U.
D. C.
?On the ranch of Paul Miller, at
Bradley Flat, near Hot Springs, S. D.,
is a ledge of rock whicn seems to possess
all the properties of a photographic
plate. When the rock is moist it
-' a rlpar
Will SHOW SI bCr Q nuuuuvi ow4 m* M
photograph of the surrounding trees
and bushes. Gradually pictures so
taken seem to fade out, being renewed
by each new thunderstorm, though the
same objects are not always reproduced.
The lock seems to be a combination
of flint and sandstone and is of a
dirty red color.
. , '- ir?
; - >
THE JEFF DAVIS MONUMENT.
A Labor of Love Which Has Been Assigned
to the Women ol the Sonth.
The following address to the Daughters
of the Confederacy in Sonth Carolina
has just been issued by the president
of the South Carolina division. It
will doubtless result in accomplishing
much for the cause so earnestly advocated
:
To the South Carolina Division, United
Daughters of the Confederacy : ' ~ 3
Dear Ladies and Friends: With the
purpose of furthering the trne aim of
the Daughters of the Confederacy, and
sending forward a message from the 'M
heart and mind of our women, I ask
your indulgence for the first words I
address to you from the office of honor v $
to which you have called me.
If my mind were not so full of the : .
dignity and splendor of the project
which I present to you for^considera^
tion, in this letter, I might stop to
speak of the personal estimation I have
for the position I occupy bv vour rood
will and choice. I will allow myself to
say that a statesman oiice remarked to
me that a public honor is mater op*
portunity for more thoroughly serving
the public.
I believe I shall be doing this in ?,
placing before you my conception of
the strongest, most enduring and far* reaching
work in which the Daughters
of the Confederacy can engage until It
shall be completed.
The Jefferson Davis monument has
been accepted as our work. I would
recommend that we make it The work &
of the Daughters of the Confederacy.
The flowers we throw upon monads,
the medals we bestow in schools, the
crutches we put under the soldiers'
arms are our wayside flowers. -These
services relax the heart,, engage sympathies,
enlist many workers.- They
gratify all, and are right claims upon M
us. Every stroke of the artist's brush
tells in his picture?not one, Ught or ^
heavy, but would impair perfection if
missed. Our sweet charities, onr local
interests, our home monuments, our
dear little care of graves are the delicate
shadings' which enrich and complete
our wonderful picture?The Confederacy.
Still we must have in it the *
big, strosg tone which is idealised by
these tender touches. That, is the foundation
of their excellence.
Search in ail directions, among the
graces of feeling, or into the " deepest
depth " of thought, and we find below'
the sea of general endeavor, the cable,
upon which we rely to send our message
into the lives of future men and 1
women* *
What is the message ?
Not to tell them that man
women suffered, but to tell them whit
they died aud suffered for, and thai we
pass States' Rights on to them for them 5
to live for.
How shall we ensure the endnraaoe
of our message? How secure it against
the hazards of time and defeat of ob? ':'m
livion ? You shall not always be here
to decorate graves of heroes, but we
can leave behind us a witness in stone
?reared to face the whole world?
which would testify our reverence for
our statesmen and our confidence iif - 3
their creed. % ,1sa
The Jefferson Dav? monument is not
the memorial of man, but it is the concrete
record of the political faith of
the Southern people exemplified in
that one man.
You see by the minutes of the con- -gi
vention of the Daughters of the donfederacy
recently held at Greenville, ' ^
that this work has been recommended 8
by convention to the chapters. I add
to this my personal recommendation, ^
leaving it in your consideration.
Sincerely I am yonra, :'-Mi
Mbs. Thomas Taylor,
Pres. S. C. DIv,, D. C.
THE VICTOR BLUE ME DAI* Y?
The Women of South Carolina Have
Honored the Young Naval tHero
With a Beautiful Testimonial.
The handsome medal to be presented
to Lieut. Victor Bine, of the United
States navy, has been completed and is .
on exhibition in Columbia. The As- ' ^
sociation for Patriotic Award w?s
formed January 31, 1889, with Mrs.
Ellison Capers as president, aud Mrs. E.
W. Screven asaecretary and treasurer.
Its object was to procure a suitable
testimonial to Lieut. Victor Blue, and . '
it was then and there decided that the
testimonial shonld take the shape of a ' , ;
handsome gold medal. The secretary
was instructed to write to a lady la
each town and considerable village, informing
her of her appointment ap collector
for the Association and reaoest
ing her to gather funds for the medal.
In four months over $300 was sent .
in. A medal committee was appointed,
consisting of the Hon. Wo. A.
Oourtenay, chairman, and the Right
Rev. Ellison Capers and the Hon. Le- . > roy
P. Yonmans. Mr. Cowtenay nnr iyssgB
dertook the labor of love with the <
greatest care. The devices on each
side are his selection, as also the in- &
scripti on in English. The beautiful
Latin inscription is furnished by Gen.
Youmans. The workmanship was dene
at the United States mint in Phlladel- fa
phia. Lieut. Blue is attached to the
United States ship Massachusetts. It
is probable that the presentation of the m
medal will take place in New York at ' "
an early day at the hands of a distin- ^fpaja
guished South Carolinian.
The dies were engraved by W. Charles
E. Barber, of the United States
mint, Philadelphia. The medal is two
and a half inches in diameter and one
fourth of an inch thick. The obverse
presents in its upper half the coat-ofsrms
of South Carolina; it is in high
relief, delicate in its outlines, elaborate : ^
in its details; the figure of the Con tin- m
enlai soldier, usually seen knock'kneed'
and with a scared look, here stands
erect and soldierly. Barber's female
figure really looks here like a human
being?a Carolina matron. The shields,
.palmetto tree, etc, are presented "en , - . Vregle,"
and the State mottoes are in
readable form, and not - bottom up, as
seen in most of the blocks in use. fhe in>ni.ini!nn
"Tha vnm.n nf SnntS fla. ' <*"
iu^vi ipuvu) au? ? vmi.m vft wvwtt .
roll Da to Lieut. Victor Blue, 0. S. N., M
in high appreciation of his courage, en- M
terprise and distinguished services in < }
tha Santiago de Cuba campaign, 1888." . *: ' ^
Tne reverse of the medal is symbolic
of the United States navy, the basis of
the design being the great seal of the
navy department?a ship under sail,
an anchor in foreground, upon which . ?|
an eagle with outstretched wings is
alighting. All this is in high relief,
and as illustrative of the engraver's art
will compare most favorably with the
numismatic work of any nation. The
rim or border displays the emblematic. '"4
stars of the Union and this motto:
" Explorator Portissimus tnPoato
Sylisque Floruit." The medal has
been prepared at the United States
mint at Philadelphia. There it is de- ^
sired to leave the dies on deposit, in
order to have replicas in bronze supplied
to numismatic societies, and col
lectors in the United States and in Europe
at a relatively small outlay.
???^?
?The minute an office hoWer gets '*
kicked out he begins to howl "reform,*1
.