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About The west shore. (Portland, Or.) 1875-1891 | View Entire Issue (March 1, 1884)
THE WEST SHORE. 86 without their consent ; and rather than follow you, I will tay hero and die without ever seeing my home again. Scarcely wag the last word spoken when the figure disapjx-arod in mint, and the three sisters stood before tlio ltoy. In his astonishment he could not utter a syllable. Then Hjxiko one of the sisters : "As you act so honestly toward us, your secret wish shall he gratified ; you shall return to your home." Tim boy knew not how to speak his pleasure and thankfulness, lie cried for joy that ho would be allowed to go to his homo; ho cried for sorrow that he must leave the kind sisters. He wanted to go back to his parents, yet ho wished to remain where ho was. Ho could do nothing but weep. Restlessly ho laid himself on his conch, and the night was far spent when he fell asleep. When ho awoke in the morning he found himself on the shore of tho familiar lake. Ho looked up, saw the three swans as he had seen them before, and stretched out his arm toward them ; they dived out of sight in the blue wah-r and ho saw them no more. In the village his friends were greatly surprised at his reappearanco. They gathered about him, and with oH'ii mouths heard the boy's wonderful story. But no one believed n word of it After the first pleasures of again seeing his homo, came a desire to be once more in the unknown land ho had left Tho feeling grew with each day. Then caino frequent visits to the lake, but tho swans never came more. Ho cried with regret nt having left tho three loving sisters. Wherever he went ho grieved. Nowhere found he rest He ever longed for his fairy paradise, and ever in vain. Tho bright eyes dimmed, the plump cheeks again became pale and sunken. Slowly ho went to tho lako one day, laid himself feebly on its iebble.strewn shore and slumbered, never to awake again uKin earth. SECOND HAND FOOD. IN one of Now York's shabbiest streets, in the base 1 monUf large tenement house, a German and his w.f,uWl ... second hand food, which is eagerly bought y thoghlH.nng ,HH,r. The writer recently visited th.s mnquo establishment In the fr.nt room a Cro 0 purchasers were waiting, cans and money in Z 1 he (.erman was , the back room emptying barrels up a lift bare p,o table. Occasionally box o bZl .o,nan, rosy and n at 0 , n 6 emm -toamin,. The !,, . " V"8 "Id. 01(1 8o was "erylhing that is i 1 l T 01 frnS,11P1 t Ml f the slu . h t Pl l'Ut a mra0Ilt'8 m-und wn, f ' , J ' " Wment i the KiWof W ;,,,, " . " n well cooked MoUm. of turt,u T. "l aThfi, the bones: pork, whole .d vx,W L J ? V ' and cold corned beef, cold roast mutton and beef, cold ham and tongue all this and probably as many other things beside were in the heap. The foremost little ones in the impatient crowd had to crane their necks around the door frame to see the nature of this second heap, and were charmed to see iced cake, jelly rolls and tapioca pudding. The man filled the deep and broad sill of the window with cam. Some were full of mashed potatoes, some with potatoes and turnips mixed, and some with cabbage. The woman was heaping up slices of bread, ends of loaves, little cakes, tea biscuits, rolls, slices of costly cake, boiled and baked potatoes in their jackets, crullers, gingerbread doughnuts, Boston brown bread and crackers. Her heap grew so tall that an avalanche formed and food rolled on the floor. She was obliged to leave some barrels similarly stocked without emptying them. Suddenly she faced the troop of children, and they began to shout and scramble for the doorway, demanding to be waited on. There were plates in some of the baskets and tin pails in others. The man tossed in the meat and the woman shoveled bread, rolls and cake in until the baskets were loaded Both used their hands. "You see," said the German, "that the food is clean and good. I buy it from the hotels. First-class houses never carve a rib after it Is impossible to get nice-looking pieces from it They never heat things up the second day or serve them the day after they are cooked. These potatoes I took out of the kettle in the Fifth Avenue Hotel. That's where the pudding came from. I am expected at a certain time, and I go right in and clean out the warming pans, all this is what are called 'cold pieces' and 'middlings' in the hotel trade. In some houses the help is fed on this. It is not what is left from the plates of the guests. That goes to the swill man. The bread and rolls and cake you see here were all baked to-day, and are as fresh as my customers could get at the bakeries for five times the price I sell it for. I get it in slices, ends, and quite often in whole loaves. I get, in addition to what you see here, stewed fruit and cold tea and coffee. I get a great deal more than you suppose at least fifteen barrels of bread a day. In selling, I calculate to give enough for twenty-five cents to keep a family of four or five a whole day. I sell as little as ten cents' worth. I charge about four cents a pound for the meat, ten cents a gallon for the vegetables, and I sell as much bread for three cents as I can bay in a bakery for fifteen. For twenty-five cents I give meat enough for three meals for four people, with half gallon of some vegetables, and then bread and cake enough for all day. Some of my customers are very par ticular, and want things nice. I pick them out nice things. Some want more cake and pudding, some want only meat, and so it goes. For a quarter they not only get as much weight of food as a dollar will buy, but they get the very best that can be bought-quality as well as quantity. It i8 Ri80 cooked in the best manner. I h nothing left over. I don't open this place till I collecting and drive up with my load. It is always after eight o'clock at night In a very little while I have sold it all" J