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l .w?»v/.v.v ? DOROTHY S - PRODIGAL ▲ ThJUxLavirlnc Story. %%%V» "Well, I don’t s’pose anybody , ever mw the like* o’ that!’; said Mlsf Polly-Lp| ano ver y muc The thing that nobddy ever saw ready to ship. Suppose we send for lt” like off was a tear. It had rolled down enaifa T^otnehow tne snnnna aft'V tne angularity melted away as If by magic. Bits of bright ribbons looped back the enrtafna. la one earner suddenly peared a little shelf with the daintiest pink vaM upon It and a rose In the vase. Oh, she was a wonderful girl, this Dorothy I One day she Went up and laid her fresh young cheek against the old woman’s shoulder. “Aunt Polly,” she said, 'll miss my eh. I left It boxed up Hiss 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 vow!” murmured Miss Polly, In amaxement. _ ’ Words could go no further. When Miss Polly “vowed,” there was noth ing more to be said. All this was be cause the physician had come In from the other room and had said in his genial way: ^ ' “She’s ever so much better this morn ing, Miss Polly. -1 think she'll pull through.” That was how It happened that the two tears were glittering on Miss Pol ly's hand. They were very inconsist ent tears, and Miss Polly had always been consistent.- It wna .Uke -tuming. -jf^aSnompiKing happened that her whole life wrong side out, and she realised It In the first place, Miss ‘TOD AKK ALHT POLXT,” Bill SAID. Polly had never been an attractive wo man. She was grim and harsh and hardworking. She was really a Mrs. Stephens, but she was married after having been an “old mahl" for some yean, and her old name still clung to her. Her husltand was a mild, quiet man and had lived but a few years after their marriage. People said that Miss 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, Mias 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 oc curred 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. Khe made friends with nobody. 8he repelled ewryitody. Her black eyebrows drew nearef to gether In a forbidding frown. Her voice grew hanher and colder, and she became, as the years passed, more gaunt and Iron gray. Poor old Miss Polly! People pitied her, but they were wiee 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 Alstom' had died, leaving her a considerable property ‘in trust for my adopted daughter, Doro thy Carew.” “Fiddlesticks!" exclaimed Miss Polly. “Mary always was a fool!” And she threw the letter into the (ire. A week later she saw a carriage drive up to her gate and deposit there a young girl, with her trunk and Poxes. The girl paid the driver; and the-cf^ rlage went away, and then Miss Potty, angry and amased, went and stood In the door, ready to warn the Intruder 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 pic ture. I am Dorothy Carew." And then, before Miss Polly could My a word, the girl took one off the hard, wrinkled hands In both her own and leaned forward and kissed the withered cheek that had been unbiased so long. There was a moment's fierce struggle In the old woman’s breast Then she said In her own grim way: “I reckon 111. have to help you bring In your things. There’s nobody else." She marveled at herself when she found herself tugging at the heavy trunk and helping this girl, this Doro thy Carew, whom nobody wanted, to get her things Into the hall and from there Into the “spare bedroom,” which had been nnoccupied 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 It!” She was looking out of the window as she spoke. Inside the house every thing was bare and unattractive, but when ahe glanced around her only thought was, “How pretty It might be Badel” She began making K that very day. Even Miss Polly’s stern face relaxed when ehe looked In upon It that even ing. Pretty pictures and tiny shelves with dainty silken hangings brighten ed up the walla, and all about the room were charming nothings that pleased the eyes of the old woman. And yet ■•ha-did-not acknowledge It. ~ Ho; Tfl~ 'deed! She said something sharp in stead about “all that flummery" and intimated that it was nothing more than "a trap to catch the dost" “Oh, I’ll never let the dust get into them!” said that strange girl brightly. “And It is so easy to make a home peettyr - And then pretty things began to bloom out all over the bouse, even in MJm Polly's room, that stiff room with irfjihLjea Ami Miss Polly sent-grte old Miss Polly, who had always considered mu sic of every kind an Invention of satnn. When the piano came and the people mw It carried Into that house, they crowded around the gate and stood on tiptoe and peeped over the fence. Sev eral were heard to declare that Miss Polly was undoubtedly craxy. 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 bril liant effects, but she could play many of the old time pieces and sing them, too, In a voice sweet and tender. showed the lonely old woman that this was not quite so had a world as she had thought It and that she had even misunderstood herself. Dorothy was taken ill. 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 dis ease that had laid Its hold upon the young girl and would not give her up. Then Miss Polly l>egan to learn. Peo ple 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 thal had Ixsen Miss Pol ly’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 l>een 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 some thin.” ~ “I didn't think she knew one o’ these people,” said the bewildered Miss Pol ly. “I didn’t suppose she knew any body but me.” And so It camo to pass that when the doctor came out of that quiet room one day and told Miss*Polly that the crisis was past uud 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 s’poso anybody ever saw the likes o’ thatl" One day, when the Invalid liad grown strong enough to sit up and was In the great armchair all wrapped up In blankets, M\ps Polly said In her own abrupt way: 4 I "I’m goln to keep Thauksglvln, Doro thy” Dorothy's eyes flashed with surprise and pleasure. "Don’t you—haven't you always kept It?” she aakud. “No. I’ve never kept It 1 thought the day was nothin to me, and so I shut myself up and worked harder than over and hated other people for makln so much of It But now this la different. I'm goto to cook a good din ner, my dear, and you shall ask the guests for jour part I reckon you’d better Invite the choir people, some of ’em, and Colonel Daly’s daughter, that’s been here to see you so many times.” “No, Aunt Polly,” was all that Doro thy said, but her pretty i>ale face was suddenly flu*led, and her mind was already, busy with plans. What a Thanksgiving they would have! "Cook ever so much. Aunt Polly," she said coaxlngly. "We I want them fairly filled, because the people that will be here would not have had any Thanksglvtng^at home." The next day Mias 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 step or been outside of her own mis erable bouse for more than 15 years. Dorothy’s friends, the boys, had car ried her over, chair and all, In a kind of triumphal procession, and when they set the chair down they went out side and gave three cheers for Dorothy and three more for Miss Polly. Then camo three girls from tho fac tory, country girls,’Tar from home and with few pleasures that were safe ones. In all that great, busy town no body remembered them but Dorothy, It. seemed. .* Then there was the old gentleman with the shabby clothes and the court ly manners, the old gentleman that lived 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 believe I’ll go and ask him in.” Now, Miss Polly had been the sworn enemy of tramps all her life, and sh® atarted up suddenly. Drive him away, Dorothy!” sh® cried. “I can’t endure trtfmps.” “But perhaps he’s hungry," said Dorothy, turning her brown eyes full upon Miss Polly. “And we have a B I look over the table It abeolutely laugh- '' ed, a funny little quavering langh, as though jt were not used, to 1L. Then, In a moment, iverybody was laughing, and there never was such a merry crowd. Why, even poor old Mrs. Day was laughing like a schoolgirl and de claring 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 re plenishing everybody’s plate before It was half empty. Her face was fairly glowing with happiness. And then all at once the little old gentleman In the shabby clothes stood up and leaned his trembling hands onr the table. He wanted to express his own happiness and that of all the guests, he said, at the privilege of join ing 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'horne for so many others-, and he thankeilivheaven 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 nut hav e .won heartler-applauee. 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 Doro thy’s doln’s. I’ve been a cranky old woman for 4 good many years until Dorothy got hold o’ me and straighten ed me out. I’m glad you did It. Doro thy. I always was a fool, a stubborn old fool! If I only had my poor boy hack again. I’d b® the happiest woman in nil the land!” There were tears In Miss Polly’s eyes now, sure .enough, aud they rolled down her cheeks without attracting the least attention, for Just then a won derful thing happened. The tramp arose from the table, took off his rag ged coat, pulled off his sunburned hair \\%S\yvwvw; ,* our OtofT ** ** FESTIVAL > w* Thankaglvliig PsouliartoThls % m Country. m LTHOUOH the first Thanksgiving differed very mate rially from its suc cessors In that it was proclaimed as a fast and not as a feast. It terminated In a festivity. Sup plies had run short, the ships expected from England were delayed, and ex tinction threatened the “governor and company of Massachusetts Bay In New THE FIRST THANKSGIVING. fleerge Wnafclagtoa Wm Ben ms 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, vyhlch made attempt at yearly celebration of a day of gen eral gratitude.. - . > . This week of recreation observed by the Plymouth pilgrims was undoubt edly much enhanced by Prlhcllla Mo line’s rare culinary acquirements. When provisions were at a low ebb, her deft hands prepared many an ap petizing dish of tike plainest stores, and the “common house” under her super intendence was a scene of banqueting. Gentle Dame Brewster, whom Priscil la loved So tenderly, was strengthened much by her kind ministrations. Natu rally John Alden had his share, and In vain Miles Standish sought to be first with the fair maid who prepared the Vlauds. There Is a suggestive coincidence In this statement In “Young’s Chronicle” of Massachusetts, “The first Thanks giving day on record In the colony of Massachusetts was held Feb. 22, 1031.” On that day a century afterward was' born George Washington. In 1075, the year in the history of Then she went out, and they saw her apeak to the man and Invite him In. After all, they were glad of IL It was too bad to think of any man going hun gry while that dinner awaited them, »nd they cheerfully t 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 TUX UTTLK OLD OBNTLKMAN STOOD UP. and his shaggy t»eard and stood there, a tall, handsome young fellow. And then the astounded cqtupany saw him go around aud take Miss Polly In his arms. “Here 1 am. mother,” ho said as he kissed her. “And you are glad to see me, after all?” What a time It was! Ho told them after awhile how he had so longed for a glimpse of the ufcl home that he had determined to disguise himself and see tho house and his mother once more, lie had been In a distant city all these years and was In business there aud prosix-rlug too. “And to think how near I came to drlvli^ him away from my gate at last!” cried MUs Polly, her voice shak lug at the very thought. “Aud It was Dorothy that saved me from that! Oh, Ikorothy.'vyou have saved me from so mucli! And you have done,It Just as though It was the easiest thing In the world to take up a crabbed, sour old woman and make her over again.” —Phlla'Ldiihla Tlincs. HARVEST HOME. Thooksgtvtnir J»_*_ •Thanksgiving day Is more generally observed In Great Britain than In any other country, nl!»e#Ht Is one of the few occasions when the nobility and peasantry In a sense uhlte In “making merry.” The day Is better' known there as “harvest home,” being one marking that period when tho harvest la in and the tenantry and peasantry are given holiday. As a rule, the nobleman or owner of estates makes tho day one of continu ed enjoyment, when his grounds are given over to his subjects and all man ner of games and outdoor sports are carried out. .In his castle or borne there la generally assembled a house party, aud the guests Join with the host and hostess In making the day one of happiness for the tenantry. Tho day's pleasure Is concluded by what Is known In this country as a "barn dance." The decorations in this amplo place are significant of the har vest, and the celling and walls have adornment of wheat In the most beautiful designs. Tbe 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 merri ment Many a story Is told by the English novelists of how the pretty village maids. In their rosy cheeks aud smart frocks, maker Jealous their country lovers when blusblngly they accept the attentions of the^ypung 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 compli ments the heads of “pretty peasantry.” Previous to the dances there are fre- Engtendr’**' Winthrop and hlH~CouhcII' New - Ehglahd when the colonists mourned their dead, sacrificed to Indi an ferocity, that pregnant • silence which speaks ha no words can fell upon everything. 'Wars and rumors of wars wete sad realities which blot ted out the memories of all previous privations pnd sufferings. The ever present now was more than the set tlers could grapple with. That year they kept uo Thanksgiving Ip Connect icut colony. The next yepr light broke, and Thanksgiving was again celebrat ed.—New York Mall and Express. decided to hold a day of prayer and ab stinence, “so that ye Lorde be pro pitiated and looke upon his servants • »with favor In that they have humbled themselvea before him.” Accordingly a crier was sent about the primitive settlement at Charlestown, and the colonists were each arid all Invited to take part in the fast. Their sacrifice met with speedy reward. Scarcely had the noon hour of the al lotted- day arrived when the long hop ed for ship made-Its welcome appear ance In Massachusetts bay, the cargo was laudod, and the fast was succeed ed by a bouquet of a sort which must have seemed sumptuous indeed to the exiles so recently plunged In hunger and hardship. On the threshold of dreaded winter Wlnthrop and his fol lowers found what had -been a pros pect of fear and peril chnuged Into one of happiness and hope. Such was America’s first Thanksgiving as cele brated 200 years ago. Thereafter each succeeding November was marked in the annals of the colony by a similar festival of gratitude. But Thanksgiving in the early days of our history was not confined to the New England pioneers alone. Just. 15 years after Wlnthrop’s proclamation— 1. e.. In 1045—Governor Kleft of the Dntch colony, then known as Nleuw Amsterdam, but now as New York, or dered the observance of a day of re joicing and thanks “for the rest and peace which God had been pleased to bestow upon his servants.” The next notable Thanksgiving day In history fell In 1758. On that date the British and colonial army, com manded by General Forbes, attacked and captured from the French, after a fierce struggle. Fort Duquesne, at the junction of the Alleghany and Mo- , nougahela rivers. The name of the plat's was changed to Fort 1’ltt and was tho nucleus of the city of Pitts burg. Thus in a special sense the his tory of the great capital of tha~coal and Iron Industries Is connegted with tbe celebration of Thanksgiving day. lint nx*><1 n \x*H IIn XJaxvs* l«*vw*ltA THE NATIONAL FEAST. T^aoksgivjng dinner^ jind Im-hasn’ljau -qaantly-lhe^tricalsi andw^artbr^etate -gopuiaafythe holiday In .Dixie.— owners havcPbeen known to engage the best of London companies to entertain their people at the time of ''harvest home."—Atlanta Constitution. moMi Snckfo* .is. 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 sp it* *t»lf&t backed fa®ed mother, and when It cast one petite.-ClqgnnftU Ppit But meanwhile In New England what had Itet'D U'guu os an occasional day of pious rejoicing had assumed the pro portions of a fixed national holiday. In Massachusetts and New Hampshire It was especially popular. There was at first great latitude In regard to the day selected for the feast. Governors proclaimed the chosen date arbitrarily, and no effort was made to keep th® an niversary of Wlnthrop’s proclamation. Sometimes Thanksgiving ocurreed In July, sometimes In midwinter. At length, through the efforts of the presi dent aud professors of Harvard col lege, It was practically fixed upon the last Thursday In November. In tbe sotHh Thanksgiving a» an an nual festival remained practically un known until In 1855 the curious \Tr- pirated. This controversy, which Is not generally known, deserves a brief notice, Tbe governor of Virginia at the time was t>ne Julius, a patriotic and broad minded gentleman, who had al ways entertained a reverence for the Puritan anniversary which was by no means common below Mason and Dix on’s Hue. Governor Johns, In *a letter to the state legislature, urgently rec ommended the recognition of Thanks giving In Virginia and offered, in case hla recommendation proved satisfac tory, to at once Issue a proclamation. But tho legislature of Washington's state did not look upon (he New Eng land holiday wlA favor.. Governor Johns was advised not to make the Thanksgiving proclamation, and, as he did not do so, the matter was allowed temporarily to drop. But public Inter est had been awakened.: and before long a fierce debate was raging In Vir ginia between tbe opponents rihd sup porters of the proposed southern Thanksgiving. At last, in 1857, Govern or Wise, Johns’ successor, took the metaphorical bull by the horns and Is sued a proclamation setting apart a day for the feast. Hie action caused much angry criticism, and several southern newspapers declared that Thanksgiving was simply “a relic of Puritanic bigotry.” In spite of this, the Innovation was warmly welcomed. The hospitable southerners greeted gladly another holiday, aud tho northern feast soon ranked among them as second In Importance only to the glorious Fourth Itself. In 1858, the year after Wise's proclamation, no fewer than eight gov ernors of southern states proclaimed Thanksgiving In their sections. The however, coming shortly after ward. practically extinguished „Aha Washington Star. Thuksffivlmar Evening. ~ Thanksgiving evening ought always to be spent at home. And let everybody have an open fire that can. Turn the 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 describee In “Little Men.” Let them pop. corn and let them make molasses candy.— Exchange. TkaakBfrtvtng’n 'Chief Feature la • True American Bird. The chief feature of the national feaat Is a national bird. The turkey ^notwithstanding Dr. Samuel Johnson In hls dictionary defined him as “a large domestlck fowl, supposed to be brought from Turkey,” Is a true Amer- Icau. Not a hint of the existence of this prince of fowls had the civilized nations of the eafth ever heard until the y.ear 1584, when the ancient voy agers dropped anchor off Axacan, now la-North Carolina, then apart of what was called Virginia, and, making a landing one beautiful day In midsum mer,-reported that they had seen deer, snow white eraues and a certain large bird which epicures have since learned to worship under the name of turkey." Hls merits* were quickly discovered by the early “explorers and adventur ers” from other countries, as the Jour nals of Captain John smith, William Byrd and their contemporaries attest, and It was not Jong before be was to be found on the tables of Europe. Brtllat- Savarin, of gastronomic and literary fame, called him “the most beautiful present made by the new world to tbe old.” Formerly very abundant, the wild turkey Is now to l»e found only in small flocks here and there In the secluded glades of tho Alleghany and Blue Itldtfo mountains. In the Florida wilds and on the plains of the far southwest Domostk-ated, the turkey thrives and maltlpltes the world over. "Handsome, golden, done to a turn, scenting the room enough to tempt a saint” ami nervftl with that peculiarly savory New England production, cran berry sauce, no one will dispute tbe turkey's right to tho .sovereignty of the Thanksgiving feast "Did any one htar the dinner bell ring?"—Bueton Herald. ' / x ■ How to Carve a Terker. # Insert the carving fork across the middle of the breastbone. Cut through the skin between the breast aud the thigh. Bend the leg over and cut off close to the body and through the joint Cut through the top of the shoulder down through the wing joint slanting from TBd" front of the breast bone down toward tbe wing jqlnk Carve only frog) the side nearest you. Tip the bird over slightly and with the point of the knife remove tbe oys ter and the small dark portion found on the side bone, t . Then remove the fork from, the breast and divide tbe leg and tbe wing. Cut through the skin between the body and breast and with a spoon re move a portion of the stuffing. Serve light or dark meat and staffing, as preferred.—Selected. - A^JSHAWKSGfVTUelMKjrU. BrowpjBreail Trfuxdoi ~~ (3atf Soup. Grated PanoMan Cheese. OUrea. Salted Peanuts 1 Boast Turkey with Chestnut Stuffing. Bread and Olblet Forcemeat Balia Cheatnut Sauce. Cranberry Jell/ _ I Potatoes. Baked Onions. Nut anfl Celery Salad. UTam Mashed Potato Hickory Nut Crack* .. /- Pumpkin 1 _, Glace Fruit and Bute BREAD AND GIB LET BCEMEAT' XI FORCEl BALLS.—Boll the giblets atyl chop alx with tha meet ail equal ouantl read crumbs, and (or each cupful of use one teaspoonful each of lemon Juice and ' chopped penley. cue tebleepoonful each o< Sour and butter, cos aaltapooaful each of . 1 aalt and thyme, half a aaltapoonful of peu- * per, four drops onion Juice and one beaten Mix. make Into balls the Mae of waL \ i and fry In butter. IIESTNUT BAUCX.—Chop One a pint of ' cheat ntita ao they will cook quickly. When , is nearly dooa, pour off hal stock In the bottom of the move all the Kraeee, add a pup of water end boll the- chopped chestnut! verv soft. Put through a sieve and thicken \ .with a tebleepoonful of flour which has bean , 1 mixed with two tableapoonfula butter. BAKED ONIONS—Parboil 10 Spaniah on- ' lone after they have been peeled (10 dm/ 1 be too many If they art very Urge), drain , 1 them, put in a pudding dish, them belt a taaspoonhu salt, a aaltapoonful. HOW TO DHBSfl THE TABUS. If one expects to give a Thanksgiving db>- ' ncr, tinted autumn laavae should bo sath-, cred, waxed and pressed with’* warm Don. Nothing la more beautiful for deearatlag • , 1 Thanksgiving dinner table than the bnUtaat, | ' varicolored learan arranged in llaalgne or •trrwn caraleeaty over the snowy linen. A, centerpiece of any rod autumn berrtea and . . gluaay waxed autumn laavae le vary affective ThnaaksBirlns In Old Old blgcfc mammy has a possum on to With sweet potatoes, sweeter than a cake, And bar pickaninny’s gone by tbe moon v < ‘ , With hie yellow bellied puppy to Dee a The Coon lies a-grlnnlng In the hollow. That the ytllow hammer uses (or fail drum, -* While tha gray squirrel chuckles in high At tha hickory nuts d-kainlng Dorn the ^ nut tree. * * •• % Tbe gray owl shivers on a dead oak limb And blinks in the sunshine, mellow and While molly cotton, rabbit give* a hall' •' hops And hears her heart beating of n suddei ■tope. SENATOR PLAN. The air la so fine and soft and clear That the tence seems (ar aud the mountain* seem near, T Till the partridges fly to the fences *and ’light, And call out a song about “old bobwhitel” “Old bobwhlte, are your crope all right? la there wheat beneath the l^rn (or tbe first cold night? , —]Z. m 1 m_ 1 - — Tbe guinea hem and turkeys find its shelter mighty warm. , We’ll gather. In among ’em when thera cornea • •torm.’’ >- The wild turkey’s calling from the (ar hillside; The foxhounds are l>aying on the long divide; Thert’a a fat pig squealing, (or life la sweet. But not much sweeter than his sausage meat! —John Paul Uocock. Chestnut Stafllnar. Get two quarts of large French chestnuts. Shell ami boll them until the skins are softened. Then drain off the water aud remove the skins. Boll three pints of the chestnuts again until soft. Then press -through a colander. Season with one-end a half tablespoon fills of butter, one aud a half teospoou- fuhs of salt aud a quarter of a tea- spoonful of pepper. If moist stuffing Is desired, add three tablespoonfuls of cream. THE OLD STYLE PUMPKIN PIE Some Ilk* • fancy cufUrd pi* Or appl*. mince or game Or ■ome newfangled •rude, I ’low, Just for Uw name. 1 ain’t go p'tkr’lnr aomc I know And diflerml from the reet. But th* good old fE»hi..n4»«l pumpkin pit* Am what I lutt the t**t. How the Dispensary. Law May be made Efficient—The Vexed Isiqnor Question Will Oome Before- the Legislature. Charleston News and Courier. The recent shooting affair at Sellers, following so closely on the" Ouzts dis closure in Columbia, has set everyone^ taking about the dispensary and its ^ management. The general opinion of South Carolinians met with in the hotels of this city is that the entire J opulatlnn of the State has become Isgusted with the long array of scandals and gore that besmear the re cord ol the “ great moral institution.” Of course thero-wae a large eleipent in the State which has been opposed to the dispensary from the start, and re cently this element of opposition to the State’s rum traffic has been greatly augmented by additions from the ranks ol those who once honestly supported It, but have now become nauseated. Men who really thought the dispen sary the very best thing that could possibly be devised for controlling the whiskey business have changed their opinions daring the last few months snd are now for Its abolition or modi fication. Among the prominent men of the Bute who have recently visited Char leston was Senator Appell, of Claren don County. The Senator is a man .wjux-keeps abreast of politics ia the State and when asked if, in bis opinion, there would be any change in tbe dis pensary law, said: “ Yes, 1 think there will be a modi fication of the dispensary law. 1 at tended the State Fair and met quit® a number of my colleagues, snd to a man they were of tbe opinion that a very material change In tbe law was neces sary to meet tbe demands of tbe peo ple, and also to meet existing condi tions. Well, I hardly know wbat will be tbe.cbange, but unless tbe General As sembly abolishes.tbe present system at Columbia tbe people,pn m; opinion will abolish tbe members of that body just as soon as they can get a whack at them. “ J am sincerely of the opinion that tbe dispensary plan of supplying tbe waqts of liquor consumers is tbe most wholesome. -It has done an immense amount of good in tbe rural communi ties where tbe law bad a fair chance. I do not believe a better plan can be adopted for small towns, but la a city with a cosmopolitan population—a people made up from all nations—the dispensary law as now on tbe statute books cannot be eaioroed, because sentiment is almost unanimously against it. Why here In CUarieeipn a stranger wouid oardly know of tne ex- Istence of the dispensary taw. - Blind tigers are every wUere—the Stale gel* no revenue, neither does tbe county or city. neverlhe.e«s large quantities of liquor are sold, crime resulting there* from, and your Court expenses are piling up a burdensome lax upon the property owning class. To my mind it is the silliest of bosh to talk about enforcing any law in a community where tpote opposed to tbe law are charged with 1U execution, and tbe juries often made up of men some of wnom are engaged in tbe illicit sale of liquor. No, I have no matured plan stores- 4 I'm hxnkftin lor s pk-cs right now O? tbs yU thst niotbrv mxtW. Whm I rsnw h..mr fvm •rhool. I'd A husk, sod In I'd «a<lr. And- p’r'haps my rrwatb D s.mnrhst Drgs— Tbouch I'd rv» rt to Dare. Sb* wouldn't gtvr nw another pices * • Dcvausc It mussed my cam Tvs lingered her* • lifetime slnre. Put up with whnt I /ot, l • ' But oft in drrame I'm beck sxein Xo Diet old tenUltef •pvt. . And then et such time# I < en And v On the butt‘17 *brlf errsyed A row at food old pumpkin pWa Tbe kind that mother made - Philadelphia Time*. ■whswlllas naff Dralaaos. A Wfsteru correspomteut who has fried an experiment tilth sabsotltng writes to The American Cultivator of bis disappointment In the result. Tbe first year turned out as he had expect ed, and there was an Increased crop. But tbs uext.year tbs land settlsd down harder aud wetter thau It was before, and be was completely discour aged. Undoubtedly, says The Culti vator, In this case thw subsoil was a heavy clay, add when It had been bro ken up the water settled Into It, mak- whtch. when dr ltd out, Was harder than It was originally. Tbe lesson from this experience Is plain. It does no good to heavy land to subsoil It with out first making a way to dispose of the surplus water through underdralna On well drained laud one thorough sub- solllng never entirely loses Its good effect. .. ' ’ If a man is going to fight he wants to be well. He wants to be strong, steady - nerved, vigorous — able to take and give punishment. One of Roose velt’s Rough Riders actually starved todeath because his digestive system wasn’t strong enough to extract the-Tiutriment from foou that kept.his comrade-4 strong and well and in tip-top fighting trim. The soldier isn’t the only one who fights and needs strength. Business men, clerks, engineers, laborers, *11 have a fight on their hands. All have to fight for a living. The strong win; The weak go to the wall. What about you Is your blood all right?/ Do you feel right? Are you losing flesh ?: Feel “ run down ?’’ ■' Do you sleep well ? ~- Have trouble with your stomach ? Tired all the (Ime ? / If so what you need is Dr. Pierce’s Golden Medical Discovery. It makes men strong. It keys the digestive system right up to concert pitch. It tones the stomaefa, stim ulates the liver, strengthens the nerves, enriches the blood—makes a new man of you. Puts snap and vim and endurance into you. J ~ / j A. D. Welter, K*q , of PenaaSbla, Bacambia Co.. Fla. faox 544), writes: “ I have taken eight bottles Of tbe “Golden Medical Discovery,’and must say that I am transformed from a walking shadow (as my friends called me), to perferi health. Pour montha ago I did npt think to be In shape to assist our ‘ uncle Samuel ’ in case of hostilities, but thanks to you, I am now ready for the ’ Dona’ •• eot. 1 have seen It stated where lor Tillman favored abodsblag the present board sod to create a board consisting of tbe Governor and other Slate 1 fiicers. 1 am opposed to such a pi n and win vote against any bill 1m- po-iog the duties ol ruaoiug the dis pensary on the Governor. 1 favor sub mitting the liquor question to tbe peo ple ; tnat is, for the General Assembly to provide means for boidinjr an Siec- tioo on tbe same cay in every county, a choice of three tickets to be voteu : D.spensary, prohibition or high license. In tne counties voting fur the dispen sary, for the entire manage meet, pur chasing, etc , to be put into tbe hands of a local board, composed of the mayor, county supervisor and a nun office• holding citizen, who shall be appointed by the Comptroller General, or, say, the foreman of the grand jury. There should be a provision In tbe law per mitting the question to be voted on whenever onethird of the voters of a county petition for tbe same. By tills plan the town, tbe county and the State would have a representative on tbe board to look out for tbe respec tive Interests. . Then 1 wouid Impose on the Comptroller General a supervisory power over the finances of the Institu tion. If prohibition Is earned there e'enldrde- ment of tbe law. Then with “ high licence ” the licensing power, the licensees snd the police power would regulate and enforce the law. This, to my opinion, crudely outlined, la a solution of this vexed question and one that would bring about a renewal of respect for law, so grossly lacking In communities where a law Is obnoxious.” * — W. C. Coleman, a negro, has starteef a large cotton mill at Concord, N. C , which has 5,000 spindles. Mr. Cole man Is said to be tbe wealthiest re presentative of hls race la America. PITTS’ F © R The Stomach, The Liyer, The Bowels, The Kidneys, The Blood, The Nerves, \ Contagious Diseases. • Antiseptic Invigorator is a genn-kilh a diuretic, a blood purifier, a stomach ai nerve tonic, a stimulant for the liver ai bowels Manufactured by Pitts’ Antiseptic Invigorator ( THOMSON, QA. MB' For sale by druggists everywh Bold by CARFENTUR BROS... Greenville, 8. -v FOR ALL PAINS "" ,b ' ’’’•jt’AfassKi'Bti'ss.ir Charleston. OtEORNPt __