University of South Carolina Libraries
THE SOXG OF THE AUTOMOBILE. I am humming along, I am sinking a song, | I am merrily clipping the miles. Till the road all the way is a ribbon of . pwWith a blur for the fences and stiles. There are horses behind that I passed like the wind, Their chagrin thev cannot conceal. At having to take all the dust that I make, For I am ac. automobile. O! where is the car on this giddy old star That can match me for beauty and speed ? It must be allowed I've a right to be proud, Since I'm always the one in the lead. There is nothing so fast in this universe, vast As my bodv of scarlet and steel, The wind and the swallow behind me must follow. For I am an automobile. ?Minna Irving, in Gunter's Magazine. y The True Story y U ofaStory. M By VICTOR KAUFFMANN. This is the true story of a story that will not down. It had its beginning more than seventeen years ago, and to all intents and purposes it is as fresh to-day as it ever was. In 1S91 I was a reporter on a Washington evening paper. On a day in October of that year, during an unusually heavy wind and rain storm that swept over the city, really a hur. ricane, a large building on F street that was being erected for a music hall was blown down and several persons were either killed or injured. In a very few minutes I was on the spot watching the police and firemen in the work of removing the debris and rescuing the victims. I must have sat down upon a green wall, for on my way home from the office that afternoon a friend called my attention to the fact that the rear of my trousers was badly marked with plas ter. Now I was particularly pleased with that pair of trousers, for they j had but recently been made for me by a New York tailor, and were the J most "costly raiment" that I had ever j Indulged in. So that evening I left word that when John Quander, a colored handy-man, came in the morning to black the boots and incidentally to rouse me for the day's toil, he was to give that garment a very thorough cleaning. The next morning, when John had rapped on my door the customary length of time, the following conversation ensued: " 'Deed, sir, I can't get them pants cleaned nohow. I done bresh 'em, 'n' use a wet rag, 'n' soap 'n' water, but I can't get 'em clean nohow." "John, have you tried ammonia?" "No, sir, I haven't; but I know they'd fit me first rate." Now I thought then and still think that that was the best pun in the English language, especially as the perpetrator was so thoroughly innocent. I sent the story with a suggestion for an illustration to a leading New York weekly. I received no re piy; duc a iew weess icusi me with an illustration such as I had outlined, did appear in another wellknown periodical. I presume some friend who had heard me tell it had forestalled me, and had reaped the reward I had thought was mine. However that may be, that story is still going the rounds of the press, and *ropping up as a brand-new story with remarkable regularity. A few years ago, when I was in Florida, I saw the story in a Philadelphia paper ascribed to Representative John Sharp Williams. Again I saw it in i Chicago daily credited to the son of & famous Milwaukee brewer who had a valet. That was the only difference. It has appeared at intervals 4n New York, usually laid at the doors of some "well-known visitor at a prominent up-town hotel." It has tome to be a part of the stock in *rade of many professional interviewers, who, wheu short of fresh material, ring it in in their "Hotel Corridors" column as told by some illustrious guest at a leading hotel. And so it goes. Some fifteen years ago a Washing- j ton lady told the story at a luncheon, | only she finished it up something like j this: "John, have you tried cleanolio?"' | "No, sir, I haven't; but I know | they'd fit me first rate." And she wondered why it fell so j flat, for she had heard it told by I Elinor McCartney Lane, the novelist ] ' and playwright, and always with j great success. Mrs. Lane first heard the story a day or two after it "oc- j curred," and for more than seventeen years now it has occupied a prominent place in her repertoire. It is the j only old story she tells. In the spring of 1907 I was at the Grand Canor in Arizona, and there met a very brilliant young woman from Los Angeles, who was one of the best story-tellers I have ever known. We swapped yarns to our mutual satisfaction, but I saved "mine own" for the last and best. Finally I sprang it in what I thought was my very best style, but there was nothing doing. In despair I repeated it flprpntinp- the nmnf Thnc "Uovo you tried ammonia?have you tried 'em on you. See?" With a wistful look across the great chasm she merely said: "Please do not ask me to laugh at that story. I had to laugh at it at seven dinner parties in San Francisco last winter, and each time the teller insisted it had happened to him." This summer, when I was in New England, this same young woman sent me an August number of a popular magazine, in which my story again saw the light of day. Last winter my brother was at a dinner given by the Men's Society of the Church of the Covenant, which in years gone by has sometimes been known as the "Church of the Government." A gentleman sitting at his right told him that selfsame story as having happened to him, and a few minutes later one of the chief speakers of the evening incorporated it in his address as a personal experience. I have never seen the story in London Punch, but I am sure that by the time it shall have reached its majority, four years hence, the editors will have appreciated its merits, and that 1 shall have the pleasure of seeing in American papers reproduced, w due credit, from that famous Engli weekly. Only I am afraid they w substitute methylated spirits for a monia. Now, what I want to know is th Will any one now believe that this really my story, and that it actua happened to me about 7.15 o'clo on the morning of November I 1S91? In conclusion, let me say that have leased telling the story.?H< per's Weekly. ? Has Immigration 2 Debased Us? seotaetaiMeiocei "In this country," says Profess E. A. Ross, discussing "The Outlo for Plain Folk," in Everybody's, "t thronging in from the backward, 1 nighted lands hurts socially the ca ing and circles that the immigrai enter. Their habits cause America to shrink from them as from a low caste. Their helplessness invites c pression. Certain official brutaliti peculiar to us?white peonage, p lice clubbing, the 'sweat-box,' t 'third degree,' the convict-lease s: tem?got their start in the abuse the friendless alien. Their wage-ci ting, 'scabbing,' and strike-breaki foment violence, which leads to t ready bayonet, State coustabularii and the denial of home rule to citi< Their political crudeness brings 1 proach on democratic institutioi Their clannishness delivers them the shrewd boss who gives them 're resentation' on his ticket. Final! our increasing diversity in blood a; tradition, by permitting race prej dice to be played upon, divides a: weakens the people in their fight f self-government. 41 Nor is this all. "The startling inequalities wealth that have sprung up in a ge eration threaten to establish class d: tinctions hostile to democracy. F the tendency of such abysmal co trasts is this: The ultra-rich vie extravagance. The spectacle of thf baronial estates, princely houses, li eried lackeys, Sybaritic luxury, ai elaborate ostentation infects W the worthy with the worship wealth. Success comes to be mea ured by the sheer cash standard. T] young and ambitious realize ic, ai shape their course accordingly. Pe pie fall apart into as many soci .v groups as mere are siyies 01 uvm and forget how to meet their felloe on ,the level. The rule Is, snobbis ness toward those below you, ai toadyism toward those above yo The rich are gangrened with prid the poor with envy. There is ] longer a public opinion, there a only clashing class opinions. Hone labor is felt to be more disgracef than mean parasitism. The toilii millions cease to be respected, evi by themselves. The upper class claim and are conceded the right lead, finally the right to govern. "Such would be the course of tl malady. Unless democracy men the distribution of wealth, the m? distribution oi wealth will ei democracy. , "And yet?summing up?the bi auce inclines in favor of democrac The forces on its side reach deepe they are civilizational. The swari ing in of low-grade immigrants ai the mal-distribution of wealth a manageable things. They can be, fact elsewhere have been, successful dealt with by organized societ They are matters for statesmanshi So it is more likely that democrat will cut the roots of privilege tin that privilege will cut the roots democracy. "Let the half-stifled muck-rake the faltering soldier of the commi good, the down-hearted reform leave his trench for a moment ai climb to the hilltop that looks out < all the peoples and on all the fore of the age. "He will see that 'the lips of tl morning are reddening!' " Haunted House in the Capital. At the corner of Thirteenth and streets, in what used to be the mo fashionable part of Washingto stands an imposing mansion whii was built not long after the war a certain Colonel L , a man considerable fortune. He w stricken with a mortal illness n ! long after the house was finished, ai | the doctors told him that he mu [ die. Being greatly in love with lil however, and possessing so much make it enjoyable, he declared th he would not give it up. Resistii j stoutly the approach of death, : I shrieked and blasphemed so loud I to attract the attention of the euti j neighborhood. Nevertheless, t' I grim enemy carried him off final and the funeral was hardly ovt j when his ghost made its first appea i ance. Afterwards it was seen i many occasions in various parts the house, especially in the lihrai and so persistently did it haunt t premises that servants could hard be induced to remain. At one tir the mansion was occupied by t Spanish minister, who told remar able stories of things apparently s pernatural which he witnessed.?T : Illustrated Sunday Magazine. The Walrus' Defenses. A full grown walrus will weigh much as 2000 pounds; a mountai . ous mass of muscle and blubber, sa the St. Nicholas. He is armed wi tusks of ivory, sometimes two feet length, and when from his uprear bulk these formidable weapons a ! plunged downward upon an enen ! they are as resistless as the drop a guillotine. Such a thick layer blubber lies under the skin that is practically clad in an armor i: pervious to teeth and claws alii So. unless the bear is greatly favor by luck, he has little chance to ov< throw his antagonist. Evening Thought. Best of all is it to preserve evci thiug in a pure, still heart, and ] there be for every pulse a thanksg: ing and for every breath a song. T worship most acceptable to God com from a thankful and a cheerful hea ?Plutarch. lly clc New York City.?Just such pretf >4f blouses as ,this one are In great, di mand for young girls, and are charn I ingly youthful in effect. This one lr. tucked on exceptionally becomin lines, and includes a little chemisetl that is always dainty, while It allo^ lA a choice of plain or tucked sleeve In the illustration it is cut off at tfc J Empire waist line, but whether ? 6hall be finished in that way or i the natural Urns is a question for eac of individual to decide. In either cas n- it is charmingly graceful, and it is- adapted to every material that is thi or | enough to be tucked with success, fc n- it can be lined or unlined and const in quently suits lingerie fabrics and tfc ;ir like quite as well as silk. In the i v- lustration, however, crepe de cMr ad Is combined with banding aud with en lace chemisette. If a guimpe effe< of Is wanted the sleeves could be mad is- ' lie - ' MUfh to match the chemisette in place < rr the blouse. The waist is made with the fltte 3 lining, which is optional with tl ^ | front and back portions. It is tucke I on indicated lines. When the linir (j j is used it is faced to form the chem j sette, but when it is omitted thiB la I ter is attached to the blouse, tl ?. ! joining being concealed by the trin 11 I ming. When finished at the Bmpii ? j waist line the waist is cut off to tt e' I necessary depth, and can either I ? i worn with the skirt illustrated ( a* j with any similar one. When extern [Is | ed to the natural waist line it ri hp r quires only the usual finish of ar as pretty belt or girdle. Both sleov< 'e are cut in one piece each. j The quantity of material require *v for the sixteen-year size is four an >r' and an eighth yards twenty-one c 11" twenty-four, two and a half yarc DIJ thirty-two or forty-four inches wid with two and three-eighth yards < banding, five-eighth yard eightee inches wide for the chemisette, iiy Short and Long Sleeve. Notwithstanding that long sleev< have been declared modish for a ^ ~ but ball gowns, one sees short sleev* in the majority of theatre frocks, an there is no gainsaying the fact ths they are prettier, their grace ei hanced by the long glove rippling 1 us above the elbow. The short glove in- really hideous in the evening, an ys long sleeves do not convey the idc th of full dress, no matter how elabo: <n ofnhr mnHo r?rvr? nf n?h a + choor mnfi ed | rials. It is encouraging to see thi re J American women have the Indepem iy, | ence to revert to what is becomlri of and graceful, rather than to follo\ of sheeplike, wherever French makei he choose to lead. in te- Paisley Tones. A picturesque coat of printed cr Jr" tonne in faint Paisley coloring, tf prevailing hues being old rose at brown on an ivory ground, was woi over a white lingerie frock, with v- leghorn hat lined with black an let trimmed with a rather new garnitui iv- consisting of many small feathers : he a multiplicity of coloring to cnri ies out the Paisley scheme, all softly ar rt. artistically blended. Mom :y Bags Follow Suit Cases. ^ The fashion is tending toward 1_ traveling bag3 instead of suit cases. is K Tendency to Colors. There is a marked tendency toward the use of fancy silks in pompadour " colorings. i i Bowknots For Hatpins. Bowknots made of cut Jet, brilliants or cut glass stone are now used for hatpins. * Punctured Cloth. There is a broadcloth trimming now in use which is covered with a design in holes. These are made with a stiletto. It is called punctured cloth, and Is used for revers, waistcoats and panels on skirts and coats. In Stripes. For two years the combination of self-toned stripes or those of solid, harmonizing colors has been a commonplace design. Now we havo a new thing in stripes. Next to one of a solid color is another one of plaid. Each is about two inches wide. The material in which it is brought out . most conspicuously is called pliss. It ? is quite soft, and the introduction of this plaid stripe is not as jarring as it sounds. It makes up prettily for house gowns. Blouse or Shirt Waist. The shirt waist that is made with tucks over the shoulders is a very generally becoming one, and this h model 1b adapted to the entire range se of fashionable materials. It can be is utilized for the heavier ones, and n made in shirt waist style with regu>r lation sleeves, and it can be utilized a- for more dainty materials of a dresste ier sort and made with the plain one1 piece sleeves that make fhe latest le decree of fashion. Again the plain a surface between the tucks and the jt front affords excellent opportunity ie for the embroidery that is so much )f liked, and the blouse can be treated in this way or left plain, or can be id trimmed with insertions or finished ia <n anv xeav that mav suit the indi? id vldual fancy. If the fashionable cotig ton crepe or similar material Is utll1 Ized, the sleeves can be inset with int sertlon or made elaborate In some ie similar way, and trimmed sleeves l- make a feature of the more dressy :e waists, although the simpler ones ie are made quite plain and severe. >e The waist is made with front and jr backs. There are tucks over the I- shoulders, and the neck is finished B- with a neck band. It can be worn iy with regulation collars of the mate;s rial or separate ones as liked. Both the plain sleeves and the regulation !d ones are cut in one-piece each, and id the regulation sleeves are gathered >r at their lower edges and finished with Is straight cuffs. e, For the medium size will be re re quired foul and an eighth yards ot ln material, twenty-one or twenty-four. *y two and seven-eighth yards thirty- ] id two or two yards fortv-four inchuf wide. Old Hermit Quits Blizzard Drives Him Frc Companionship Other That Have Been His PI; and Has It Out at Inte After residing for over forty years in a hole in the ground John Jones, the hermit of the Charlton Valley, ' crept out of his burrow last week and sought refuge from the blizzard with his Welsh friend, Dave Jones, writes the New Cambria (Mo.) correspondent of the New York Sun. Jones the hermit had weathered other blizzards, many of them more severe than the present, and fattened 1 on them. But as the sunset of his life came on the howling winds, the bare trees and the snow covered hills fllook dreadfully lonesome. When the p 2re of youth burns low the wilderness is filled with grotesque shapes. The hermit was beginning to see them, and he yearned for the presence of humankind. He has many i friends in town and ample means to build and furnish a comfortable UUUiC IUC1C, UUk uc uao utv^u o\j in the brush and hills that he has become a child of nature. The rabbits and squirrels which played about his queer dugout were not afraid of him, and soon became so intimate that they would venture into the rude home about feeding time. ; The little animals of the forest and children seemed to be the only things the Old hermit ever loved. His nature partakes of theirs. In manner he is as gentle and low spoken as a woman. Instead of hardening him the wild, rugged life of the hills and woods has subdued him. He took great pride in his modest^home and the simple arrangements he had made for warmth and comfort. The bed, placed high like the upper berth in a sleeping car, is reached by a short ladder. A thickly thatched roof could resist the fiercest storm that ever swept over any country. The greater part of the hermit's domicile Ie under ground. Its original character was that of the homesteader's dugout when Government land was awaiting them forty or fifty years ago. At a short distance the thing looks like a careiuny laici naysiacn. The entrance is like that into a "slope" mine. A few steps down and you are in a dirty entry, packed hard, with shelving containing a wider diversity of articles than could ha found in the "Old Curiosity Shop." In his forty years of hermit life Mr. Jones has allowed nothing to go to waste. The worn out shoes he wore, in building the dugout are on a shelf and the remains of subsequent pairs besfde them. Everything, needle, pin, button, string, screw or nail that he ever ran across, is carefully placed among the assortment of the earth's cast-off armor. , No one has ever heard the old man of the woods tell a lie. No one has ever heard him swear, and no one has ever detected him in a di?honest transaction. For years Mr. Jono* has been a money lender. He is now said to be worth f 2 0,000, exclusive of his cave, which would inventory about $2, unless Mr. Jones would make the Inventory. He would likely run it up into the thousands?that job let of faded finery, tin pans and things. Mr. Jones' first commercial deal was taking a basket of strawberries to the New Cambria market. He sold out at a good price, and kept the i money. There is no record of his ever having spent any for himself in all the year. Having sold the strawberries he brought another backet load, and likewise disposed of them. More coin for the little tin boi hidden j away in the cave. From strawberries he branched out 10 raising puiatuen, turnips, lettuce?garden truck of all sorts. He brought walnuts, hickory COMPRESSED AIR . 'AS CAR FENDER. Puff of Wind Controlled by Button to Blow Person Off the ' Track Patented. "Puff!" a strong current of compressed air whisks you off the car track and out from under the wheels, which were within an inch of your head. You rise, brush the dust from your clothes and go about your business. All this because a man out in Canton, Ohio, has a patent by which compressed air may be used, he hopes, to blow human obstructions from trolley car tracks, says the New York Herald. . The man in Canton heard of the fender and wheel guard tests conducted by the Public Service Commission of this State recently to determine the most efficient safetj^e-' vice of this sort. He then wrote a letter to the Commission, saying, in ' part: i "The motorman, seeing the person in danger, strikes a push button with his foot or finger and a blast of compressed air blows the person off and to the outside of the tracks. You do ( not have to chase a suitable car fender any more. This is the only safe remedy." I A. W. McLimont, electrical engi- j neer t6 the Commission, to whom ' the letter was submitted, is considering the matter. Dairies in Architecture. Before the young architect fresh from Paris had been with the New | York firm a week he confessed to complete disillusionment. "The only thing I see ahead of me for a year or two to come," said he, "is dairies and j chicken houses. When I left America four years ago there were not a dozen dairies in the United States that had received the attention of a good architect. Now I find that every man who owns a large estate is paying a big price to big architects for giving their _ best brains to cow and chicken houses, which certainly indicates, I think, that in some branches of art, anyhow, America is going some." , Be True to Present Duty. ' He who is false to present duty breaks a thread in the loom, and will find the flaw when he may have forgotten its cause.?Bsecber. - , His Cave. i im Home of Forty Years?Seeks 8 Than the Children and Animals ^ ayfellows?Has Saved $2(11,000 roct ?? I Cdla - tjij h i > i ijjjj fj''-fty' an nuts and hazel nuts to town In sea- ^ son. He might in the early days have made more money trapping, but he has never harmed an aaimal that shared his solitude. ' One day a friend of the hermit sus- * talned an injury and was laid up for 3U some time. Jones went to see him ^ and helped to nurse him. On one of ( these visits he learned that worrying 0 over an overdue mortgage was retarding his friend's recovery. . The friend didn't say that he was both- ^ ered, but the hermit found out. He cJ{ learned the amount, and one day en came with a shot sack full of coin f and bills. "What's this, John?" aaked the , . se< sick man. . "Medicine," said the hermit. cj? "Take it, and if I ever get tired of the woods I'll come to you." After he was gone they counted the money. It was $1200 saved up from ^ ] strawberries and nuts. The friend ^ came near having a relapse. But he ba got well and paid the mortgage off. He is now traveling smooth waters pQ financially, and the hermit has gone re, to him to get oat of the cold. Bat he's not a troublesome man to have mj around. He chops wood and fetches ^h it in, shovels out paths through the un snow and washes dishes. They don't qu like to ask a man worth $20,000 to jn do all that, but the hermit would stay under no other conditions. Most of the frugal man's money is invested in interest bearing securities'. He can neither read nor write dii the English language, but he can ta mentally figure Interest with the best up cashier in the county. When a .note ha is due Mr. Jones calls on the borrow- he er that day. His clients understand ur that in dealing with him it's just like du a bank. He is never excessive, never harsh, never closes a man out. The wi thing is attended to quietly and wi peaceably. If the borrower can't pay ea off the note he must renew, paying dl the interest on demand; business is business. . ea A woman over in Ohio saw the hermit's picture in a farm magazine, tri and a sketch about him. She took v1' her pen in hand and expressed her to - _ . 11/. Hi sympatny ior ms loneiy Dacamur m? ? in the woods. She said her husband had gone to his rest, and well?if Mr; Jones was interqsted she might go into particulars. ' J1? The hermit walked all the way to ln town to have the letter read by his aD friend, Dave Jones. In fact, Dave hs read it half a dozen times before he was satisfied, and then .asked him j* what he was going to do about it. "If ^he happens to come, Davy," said the old man, with anxiety, w< "please don't show her the street I *s live on." , ? The hermit has many relatives over in Wales, some of them very m p TX7I well to do people. Some twenty years " ago the sisters learned that he was s ' located in the heart of a prosperous farming community of Missouri. They reasoned that American farm ers all had broad acres, big barns and roomy homes. So they wrote their brother that they were going to make pa him a visit and bring their children w? along. The man of the dugout was ^ not pleased with the threatened inva- .. sion. In no way he figured it could ^ he stretch his little home to accommodate another human being. So he went to a friend with his trouble. w. The friend told him that yellow fever ^ was raging in the South, and that he aB might move it up to Missouri. The ^ reply letter carried out the idea. Th? hermit's kin across the sea stayed at ^ home. HI _ in Modern Methods. od ' wi By EMTL BREITENFELD. th As I opened the door I saw a man with a burglar's mask, kneeling before the safe. The next moment he had turned and shoved a revolver into my face. "Throw up your hands!" he said. I did so. "You understand," he remarked, nleasantlv. "that I can, under the present circumstances, loot the premises at my pleasure?" I confessed that he cound. "You realize that you are at my mercy?" he asked. "I do," I replied. th "You acknowledge that I can blow , an you .to kingdom come if I like?" he P*' persisted. I ?h "Certainly," I admitted. "Well, then," he said, "you will be ro interested to know that I got in with- ut out difficulty through your parlor up window. Had it been equipped with th Smith's Patent Safety Burglar Alarm < and Preventer, this could not have be happened. Installed, complete with let batteries, for fifteen dollars and nine- fu ty-five cents. Allow me to hand you sti a circular. Good-night, sir." Therewith, pocketing his revolver, su I.? TTrnm TnH era A lie wimuicvT. 1' iuui kj uuB>.. 1 | SOl Not Within His Jurisdiction. po A well known New York Judge invited a friend of his, a lawyer from a? Boston, to go for a short trip on his y1' yacht. A storm came up and the dr boat began to roll and toss in a man- mi ner which the Boston lawyer did not a 1 relish. The Judge laid a hand on his *w friend's shoulder and said, "My dear *ei fellow, is there anything I can do to make you comfortable?" "Yes," was the grim reply, "over- r" rule this motion!"?Brooklyn Life. 6S Sil thi It Tasted So Good, But? be "Are you the 'Answers to Corre- mi spondents* editor?" inquired the pale, dyspeptic looking caller at a publish- go ing house on the day after Christ- pa mas. oli "I am," replied the lady addressed, cli "What can I do for you?" se; "First," answered the man, "what a will dissolve a chunk of lead in the br human stomach? Second, won't you ad please refrain from publishing re- su cipes for plum pudding nest Christ- til mas?" ; - > . v" r*rt _ HOUSEHOLD HIBBJ f 1 'WWWvvCvCvvyvwww'" For a Cracked Stove. Take an equal part of wood aihea d common salt; mix them to & jpor consistency with water; with a fill the cracks.?Boston Post. To Color Canned Cherries. If when the fruit 1b .turned out of i can it has a dingy, faded look,/ d a small Quantity of cranberry Ice just before serving. This wilt satly improve the appearance of 3 dish without affecting the flavor the fruit.?New York World. A Refrigerator Suggestion. To prevent the ice pan from getLg rusty and leaking wash th? pan >an, and dry thoroughly; melt ough paraffine to cover the bottom the pan about one-half an inch. Besides preserving the pan the iiment washes out very easily with Id water, and the pan always looks /; i ian.?Boston Post. A Simple Device. Some time when you are in need ot little hot water and the fire is low^ ke two wooden chairs, stand them ck to back a1 ^ut two feet apart, ng a tin pail :11 of water on a le' (the broom handle will do), and v 3t either end of the pole on the ? p of the chairs with the pail in the ' " mi 1 - laaie. men set a u^mcu iau*y? ? y. e larger the better, on .the floor ider the pail, and the water will , /''f% ickly heat. One can make tea, or time boil eggs or potatoes in that ly.?Boston P< The Kitchen Linen. A convenient place to hold the 3h towels, roller towels and kitchen blecloths and napkins has been hit ion by a young housekeeper who .3 to utilize every inch of space in " s x small apartment. It is a box put Lder one of the windows, that does ity both as a seat and chest. The box was an ordinary store box ith a hinged lid. It was covered th a tight woven matting that could :,i sily be kept clean. A layer of padng was put underneath. Rollers sre added, so that the box could sily be moved. The interior was provided with a ay, which was divided into three disions, so that the different kinds of wels could be kept separate.?New aven Register. / . Science of Washing Dishes. One of the unnecessary things in tusekeeping is the continuous washg and wiping of dishes, says a worni in the Housekeeper. Many women >'& Lve nevertheless at one time or anher rebelled against the stack of ahaa whir.h looms ud. like a school >y's hash, "three times a day." It is queer how some women will ' ~ jar themselves out rather than step ide from the beaten path. They ive yet to learn the joy that comes y V om taking an Independent tack and aking the work subservient to the . , srker, from being the master . In- J&sgj sad of the slave. To many women the bugbear of , tusework is washing dishes. Why ish dishes three times a day? Do in the looming when fresh. Scrape \ e dinner dishes, stack in a large ,n filled with cold water and cover. Treat the supper dishes the same ly, and do not allow your conscience keep you awake one single hour. will not make the task too heavy; / ' e next morning if you try this way. After washing each piece in hot ds and rinsing in hot (not warm); iter, put them, piece by piece, in e wire drainer as nearly on edge or lant as possible and let stand until y- . '4$ Glasses, of course, and silver, must < i wiped, but the former can be left led after using ana the latter put to a pitcher or deep jug until some d minute when one is not so weary ith well doing that another turn of e screw seems next to impossible. \Hei>ssHcur/ XgcirK/ i Stuffed Prunes.?Wash the prunes oroughly, steam until tender, pit ' ' d fill each one with cream cheese, ain fondant, fondant and nuts or opped preserved ginger. Beef For Essence.?One-half pound und steak, broil two or three min es, turning every ten seconds; cut i in small pieces and squeeze rough squeezer to obtain juice. Cranberry Jelly.?One quart of cran- < rries, two cupfuls of cold water; <> ; it boil ten minutes; add two cupIs of sugar; let boil ten minutes; ain. It will soon harden. Lightning Cake.?One cup of gar, one cup of flour, one teaspoon1 of cream of tartar, one-K.ilf of N da or two teaspoonfuls of baking wder; melt one-fourth of a cup of tter, then into this break two eggs d fill cup with sweet milk that has e chill taken off, then turn onto the y ingredients and beat briskly five nutes; flavor with lemon; bake in moderate over. Lemon Sponge Cake.?Eight eggs, o cups sugar, two cups flour, one non. Beat the yolks of eggs and d gradually the sugar, which has en sifted. Add juice and grated id of lemon, then the whites of gs, which have been beaten stiff. it the flour three times and add to e mixture with a little salt. Don't at after the flour has been well ixed. Bake in a moderate oven. Chicken Stew.?Cut in pieces a od sized chicken. In a deep saucen have ready two tablcspoonfuls ,ve oil. Add the chicken and onion opped fine, and a clove of garlic; ason with salt and pepper and add sprinkling of flour to assist in the owning. Wliei a golden brown, d a can of tomatoes with a little gar to taste, and simmer gently un? tender. Serve with Spanish rice. / # ? /'