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About Ashland tidings. (Ashland, Or.) 1876-1919 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 5, 1880)
INDEPENDENT ON ALL SUBJECTS, AND DEVOTED TO THE INTERESTS OF SOUTHERN OREGON. ASHLAND OREGON FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 5, ISSO. NO. 22. J M. McCall. ASHLAND TIDINGS. W. H. Atklnäon McCall, Atkinson & Co., I amucc I every Fri«’. ..y, Ashland Oregon. -----B V----- LEEDS Ac MERRITT. OFFICE—On Miuo Street, (in aecvnJ atory of McCall A Btiun'a new building ) Jeb Printing. Ot ill Apncriptiona done on abort notice Legal Blank«, OtrcuWnL Buaincaa Cerda, Billneed«, Letterhead«, Poe- Mre, etc., gotten up in good atyle at living prioee. NEW GOODS!! NEW PRICES!!! Terms of Subscription: O m copy, one year.........................................................$2 60 •• •• six Ba<Mihkm “ •• three months................. .............. Club ratoa, six copies for................. tsraaa is advanoe. 1 30 1 00 It 50 Terms of Advertising-; LMAL. 9ne square (ten line« or less) 1st insertion........... 81 50 Bach additional insertion ......................................... 1 00 LOCAL. U m J soiioee per lino .............. ...................................... 10c Regular advertisements inserted upon lilwral turtrw". PROFESSIONAL. DR. J. H. CHITWOOD, ASHLAND, : : : OREGON. OFFICE J At tba Ashland Dru/ Stars. We are now receiving © our New Fall and Winter Stock, and everyday will witness additions to the largest stock of General Merchandise ! Ever brought to this market. We de sire to say to every reader of this paper, that if Standard Goods! OFFICE—In Port Office building. S|>eeial attention iven to conveyancing Sold at the Lowest Market Prices, will do it, we propose to do the larg est business this season, ever done in Ashland; and we can positively make it to the advantage of every one to call upon us and test the truth of our assertions. We will spare no pains to fully maintain the reputation of the House, As the acknowledged M. L. M’CALL HEADQUARTERS! JAMES R. NEIL, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, Jacksonville, Oregon. J. W. HAMAKAR, NOTARY PUBLIC, Lmkville, Lake Co., Oregon. PURVEYOR & CIVIL ENGINEER, Ashland, Oregon. la prepared to do any work iu hU line on short notice. DR. W. B. ROYAL, Has permanently located in Ashland. Will (fro his undivided attention to the practice nf medicine. Has had fifteen years’ experience in Oregon. Office at his residence, on Main street, opooslte tho M. E. Church. For Staple and Fancy Goods, Groceries, Hardware, Clothing, Boots, Shoes, Hats, Caps, Dress Goods, Crockery, Glass and Tin Ware, Shawls, W rappers, Cloaks, And, in fact, everything required for the trade of Southern and South eastern Oregon. A full assortment of DR. E. J. BOYD, IRON AND STEEL DENTIST. Linkville, ; : : : Oregon. : Offioe and residenoe, south .ide of Main street. DR. J. M. TAYLOR. SURGEON. DENTIST Main street, Ashland, Oregon, P»FICE—In »»cond rtorv of Masonic Hall. Office houn, from 8 to ITA. M.. and from l:S0 to 6 P. M. Wagon Manufactory, W. W. Kentnor, Prop’r, MAIN STREET, - - ASHLAND. Wagons, Buggies, Carriages, Wheel Barrows, Plow-Stocks, etc., made and repaired at short notice. BEST EASTERN STOCK ALWAYS ON HAND. Al/ orders left at my new shop, north of the bridge, will receive prompt and tisfactory attention. W. W. KENTNOR. For Blacksmiths’ and General use. A Full Line of Ashland Woolen Goods! Flannels, Blankets, Cassimeres, Doeskins, Clothing, always on hand and for sale at lowest prices. The highest market prices» paid for Wheat, Oats, Barley, Bacon, Lard. MeCAI.L, ATK1VBON A CO. A shlisd , October I, 1880. JAMES THORNTON, JACOB WAGNER, W. H. ATKINSON, E. K. ANDERSON. THE ASHLAND WO OLEN MÄNÜFÄC’G CO., ARE NOW MAKING FROM Juab Wagner. E. K. Anderaon. W. H. Atkinson. , THE A «TFT. A1TD MUXS ! The Very Best We will continue to purchase wheat -AT- The Highest Market Price, And will deliver Flour, Feed, Etc., Anywhere in town, AT MILL, PRICES. BLANKETS, FLANNELS, CASSIMERES, DOESKINS, AND HOSIERY. r, Andernon A <’•. ASHLAND Livery, Sale & Feed STABLES, Main Street, : Ashland. I have constantly on baud tho very best BABBLE HOMES. ■UCMR1BB AM» CABBIACES, Apd lOUR patrons ! OLD AND NEW, Are invited to send iu their orders and are assured that they Shall Receive Prompt Attention I At Prices that Defy Competition. furnish my customers with a tip-top turnout at any time. horses boarded »On reasonable term«, and given the beet attention. Horses bought and sold and satisfaction guaranteed in all my transactions. A X ArrER aia . W. A. Wilshire W. H. Atkinson Oh, the old friends are the truest, After all—after all! Though the face be not the newest, Alter all—after all* When the fever heat Is highest, Or the chilling tide is nighe.t, Over all there comes a reaching Of a friendship whose sweet teaching Gives us joy, and peace, and reat, For the weary soul the beat, After all—after sal! What are all the stngs of mal ce, After all—after aM! There are joys deep in life's chalice, After a l—after all! Should the shadow, then pursue us, And the sunbeams ne’er come o’er us, As our feet paM by the daisies Shall our souls ne’er count His praig a ? Heaven shows us perfect rest, There our weary souls ane blest, After a«l—after all! A Bohemian Bonanza. FROM THE FRENCH OF HENRI MURGER, Schaunard and Marcel, who had been at work since morning, suddenly stopped. “ Gods! but 1 am hungry,” said Schaunard, and he added carelessly, “ don’t we breakfast some time to day ?” Marcel showed great astonishment at this question. “ Since when have we breakfasted two days in succession ?”* said he. “Yesterday was Thursday,” and he finished his response by designat ing with his maul-stick that command ment of the Church which refers to meat on Friday. Schaunard found nothing to say to that, and set to work again at his pic ture, which represented a plain upon which a red tree and a big blue tree were clasping branches—being a trans parent allusion to the charms of friend ship from a very philosophical stand i ! point. Just then the porter knocked at the door. He brought a letter for Marcel. “ Three sous to collect,” said he. “Are you sure?” said the artist. “ All right, we will owe them to you,” and he shut the door in his face. Mai cel took the letter and broke the seal. At the first words he put himself to capering about the studic in an acro batic dance, singing at the top of his voice a j>opular student’s song of the day, which indicated with him the very appex of joy. “tLook here,” said Schaunard, feeling already symptoms of mental alienation, “if you don’t dry up I’ll play the allegro of my symphony on the influence of blue in the arts,” and he went to the piano. This threat produced the effect of a drop of cold water falling into a boiling liquid, calming Marcel ?aa by enchant ment. “ Read that!” said he, passing the letter to his friend. It was an invitation to dinner from a deputy—patron of the artj in general, and of Marcel in particular, who had painted the portrait of his county resi dence. “ It is for to-day,” said Schaunard. “What a pity that the ticket isn’t good for two. But, come to think of it, your deputy supports the Ministry. You can’t, you ought not to accept. Your principles forbid your eating bread soaked in the sweat of the people.” “ Bah !” said Marcel; “my deputy be longs to the left center, and voted against the Government the other day. Be sides, he is going to give me an order and has promised to introduce see in so ciety. And then, you see, it is Friday, and I am hungry enough to eat a raw dog, and I must dine." “There are yet other obstacles,” re plied Schaunard, a little jealou» of the good fortune which had befallen his friend. “ You can’t go to a Bwell «in ner in a red blouse and a ’longshoreman hat.” “I will borrow some clothes of Ro- dolphe or C'olline.” “ Bah ! Have you forgotton that we have passed the twentieth of the month, and that at epoch the clothes of those gentlemen are spouted ?” “I will, at least find a black coat some where about heie by 5 o’clock,” said Marcel. “It took me three weeks to find one when 1 went to my cousin’s wedding, and that was early in January.” “Well, I will go as I am,” replied Marcel, btriding across the room. “It shall never be said that a miserable question of etiquette prevented me ta k- ing my first step in society.” “Good,” said Schaudard, taking much pleasure in the chagrin of his friend ; “but what about your boots ?” Marcel went out in a state of agita tion impossible to describe. Toward 2 o’clock he returned, loaded down with a paper collar. “This is all I can find,” said he, pit eously. “It was hardly worth while r uining about for that,” responded Schaunard. “We have paper enough here to make a dozen cellars.” “Confusion !” said Marcel, tearing his hair; “we ought to have some effects between us ;” and he commenced a long research in all the corners of the two chambers. After an hour’s hunting, he realized a costume composed as follows ; One pair of plaid trowsers. ZZZZ One glove, originally white. One black glove. “That will make t vo black gloves at a pinch,” said Schaunard. “ But when you are dressed you will look like the solar spectrum. But wbat of th^t, yon are a colorist.” Meantime, Marcel tried the boots. Cursed fatality ! They were both for the same foot. The despairing artfat then spied in. a corner an old boot in which they put their brushes, and possessed himself of it. “Like Garrick in ‘Syllabe,’ ” said his ironical companion. “This one is pointed and the other is square.” “Nobody will notice that; I will var nish them.” “Good enough I All you want now is the regulation black coai.” There came another knock at the door. Marcel opened it. “Monsieur Schaunard I” said a stran ger, standing on the threshold. “That’s me,” replied the painter, beg ging him to enter. “Monsieur,” said the unknown, bearer of one of those honest faces which are the type of the countryman, “my cousin has talked a great deal of your talent for painting portraits, and being about to make a voyage to the colonies, where I am delegated by the sugars refiners of the city of Nantes, I wish to leave a re membrance of myself with my family. This is why I have come to find you.” “Holy Providence!” murmured Schau nard. “Marcel, give a chair to Mon sieur—” “Blancheron,” replied the stranger; “Blancheron, of Nantes, delegate of the sugar refinery, former Mayor’of V------ , captain in the National Guard, and author of a pamphlet on the sugar question.” “I am very much honored to have been selected by you,” said the artist, inclining himself before the delegate of the refiners. “How do you wish to have your portrait ?” “In miniature, like that,” replied Monsieur Blancheron, indicating a por trait in oils ; because, for the delegate, as for many others, that which is not house-painting is miniature—there is nothing between them. This simplicity gave »Schaunard the measure of the man; above all, when lie added that he desired his portrait paint ed with the finest colors. “I net er use any other,” said Seliaun- ard. “How would monsieur like Ins portrait ?” “As big as that,” replied Monsieur Blancheron, designating a canvas. “But how high does tnat come ?’’ “From fifty to sixty francs; fifty »vith- out the hands; sixty with—” “Wliv, my7 cousin talked about thirty.” “That is Recording to the season,” said the painter; “the colors are higher at different seasons of the year.” “What, just like sugar?” “Exactly.” “Go ahead, then4 for fifty francs.” “You’re wrong; for ten francs more I would put in the hands, in which I would place place your pamphlet on the sugar question, which would be flattering.” “B’gosh, you are right.” “Ye gods !” said Schaunard to himself, “if he continues I shall explode and wound him with the pieces.” “Have you remarked ?” hissed Marcel in his ear. “What ?” “He has on a black coat.” “1 understand and I have your idea. Leave me alone.” “Well, monsieur4” said the delegate, “when shall we commence? It must not be delayed, for I sail shortly.” “I have a little journey to made my self; I leave Paris day after to-morrow, so, if you like, we will commence at once. A good sitting will advance the work.” •‘But it will soon be dark, and you can’t paint by candlelight,” said Mon sieur Blancheron. “My studio is to arranged that 1 can work at all hours4” replied the paintei-; “so, if you will take olf your coat, and assume the posse,* we will com mence.” “What do you want me take off my coat for ?” “Didn’t you say yon wanted this por trait for your family ?” “Yes.” “Well, then, yon ought to be repre sented in your home custom, in your dressing gown, Jesides, that i.i the custom.” “1 have no dressing gown,” replied the monsieur. “But I have. The case is foreseen,” said Schaunard, presenting to his model a ragged jacket, historic with paint stains, which made the honest country man hesitate at once. “That’s a very Angular garment,” said lie. “And very precious,” responded the painter; “a Turkish vizier gave it to Horace Vernet, who gave it to me. I am a pupil of his.” “You are a pupil of Vernet ?” said Blancheron. “Yes, monsieur, I can boast of that. Horrors !” murmured he to himself, “I am denying my gods.” “That is worth mentioning, young man,” replied the delegate, in putting on the dressing gown which had such a no ble origin, “Here’s the gentleman’s coat in the wardrobe,” said Schaunard to his friend, with a significant wink. “I say,” murmured Marcel, in leaping into his prey, and designating Blanch eron, “some style about him. If we could only keep a little of him ” “I will try ; but dress quickly and run. ^jlet back here by 10 o’clock, and I’ll k^ep him till then. And don’t you “I will bring a pineapple,” said Mar cel, going out He dressed himself hurriedly. The coat fitted like a glove, and he went out by the other door. Schaunard put himself to work. As it grew dark, Monsieur Blancheron heard 6 o’clock strike, and remembered that he had not dined. He bo remarked to the painter. “I am in the same fix, but to oblige you I will let it go to-night, although I was invited to dine in the Faulbourg St. Germain,” said Schaunanl. “ But we can’t disturb ourselves ; t‘ t would compromise the resemblance.” He returned to his work. “However,” said he, carelessly, “we could dine here without disturbing our selves. There is an excellent restaurant down stairs, and they could send ud whatever we wanted.” And Schaunard waited the effect of his trio of plurals. “An excellent idea,” said Monsieur Blancheron ; “and in return for the sug gestion, would you do me the honor of keeping me company at table ?” Schaunard bowed. “Hurrah I” said he to himself, “this is a man worth knowing ; a veritable en voy of Providence. Will you select the bill of fare?’’ he asked. “You will oblige me by doing it yourself ]” said Blancheron. “You will repent it, Nicholas,” sung the painter, as lie descended the stairs, four at a time. lie entered tho restaurant, stood up at the counter and dictated a bill or fare which made the Vatel of the shop turn pale. . “Some ordinary Bordeaux.” « “Who is going to pay t” “Not I, probably,” said Schaunard, “but an uncle of mine, whom you will see up stairs—a great epicure. So try to distinguish yourself. And we will be served in half an hour, and in porce lain—do you understand ?” At 8 o’clock Monsieur Blancheron felt the desire to pour into the bosom of a friend his ideas on the sugar question, and he recited to Schaunard the pamph let which he had written. Schaunard accompanied him on the piano. At 10 o’clock Monsieur Blancheron and his friend danced a galop, and called each other endearing names. At 11 o’clock they swore never to part, and made their wills, each leaving the other his fortune. At midnight Marcel returned, and found them in each other’s arms, dis solved in tears. There was already half an inch of water in the studio. Marcel ran against the table and saw the splen did debris of a superb repast. He ex amined tho bottles ; they were perfectly empty. He tried to awakon Schaunard, but he threatened to kill him if he should take from him Monsieur Blancheron, of whom he had made a pillow. “Ingrate 1” said Marcel, pulling out of his pocket a handful of nuts; “this to one who has brought you your dinner.” Toads in Trees and Stones. A large toad was found a few years ago in an old apple tree at Wonham Manor; it came to light when the tree was blown down. The “Mémoires of the French Academie des Sciences" con tain a description of a live toad found in tho lieai t of an old elm tree. Near Nantes, when an old oak tree was cleft open, a toad was found in the very heart-wood, although no crevice or other channel of entrance could be detected; there were about ninety rings in the trunk of this oak, leading to the infer ence (according to one theory) that the animal must have been in his prison ninety years. Mr. Jesse, in reference to a frog found in the trunk of a mulberry7 tree, expressed a belief that the annual rings had been gradually but surely in closing the reptile. Toads in clay have been more frequently met with than in trees; sometimes a whole family have been thus ferreted out at mce. In 1856 a toad was found at a considerable depth at Benthall, near Brosely, Shropshire. Mr. Bathurst, earthenware maiufactur- er at Benthall, ascertained that the creature was met with about six feet be neath the surface, in a layer of tough lay customarily used for making coarse brown ware. Above this layer, in suc cessive strata, were ferruginous coal of poor quality, a clay7, a loam of clay and gravel, and meadow turf at the top. The toad was found filling a cavity as wax does a seal. A minute examina- sion of the superincumbent strata failed to detect any fissure through which the animal could have entered. The light of day seemed at first to dis tress it, but this it soon became accus tomed to; the eyes were brilliant, the skia moist, the mouth quite closed.— Chambers’ Journal. After family prayer, a few evenings since, says an exchange, a little boy asked: “Mamma, how can God hear folks pray when He’s so far awayl” Be fore the lady could frame a suitable re ply, a sunny-faced little miss of five summers vehemently said: “I’ll jes’ bet He’s dot telephones a-runnin* to every place. ”___________ ___________ America has tens of thousands of shop-girls whose good looks would make a professional English beauty turn green with envy. English tourists are the bring me something in vour ones who make the assertion.—Detroit Free Press. 82 50 PER ANNUM It Blowed Up.’ The following story is a very good one, whether it occurred in Gainesville, as the Hesperian “seems” to indicate, or whether it was made out of old material lying around the office loose : He was a pretty good sized boy, ap parently about sixteen years of age. His appearance was that of an obedient, boy, but as he had just come from hunt ing, contrary to his mother, (she having alb along been prophesying that if he didn’t quit carrying that old gun around he would be walking home dead some day), it was safe to conclude that this boy was simply an average boy, neither better nor worse than we all were at a certain time in the dim past As be fore stated, this boy had been hunting, of course he had had powder with him, and like a boy, when the bottle which contained the explosive substance was found to be large and troublesome, he emptied the contents loose into his pants pockets. He had not taken the precaution to empty them when he came home, and at the time we first noticed him was coming up the street puffing a cigar, while the thumbs of each hand were stuck pooudly into the armholes of his vest. Why ho attracted our atten tion particularly we cannot say, but as we followed his every movement, we saw him turn a corner and come face to face with that paternal tyrant known to all boys as dad. Without hesitation, quick as a flash, the boy jerked t<e burning cigar from his lips and plunged it into the powder-filled pocket. What became oi the boy ? Better ask the wild winds which swept around the cor ner, what they did with the poor boy’s pants. Such a wonderful transforma tion was ne-er witnessed before. A well dressed boy converted into a candi date for the garden of Eden in short metre. “\Vas he hurt I” No, no. IJis feelings were slightlp hurt at being un dressed so hurriedly in public, but the moral to be derived from the incident will be of use to all good little boys, and will make our little hero happy to think that he, from a whole world of boys, had demonstrated fully that a lighted cigar and powder made a disagreeable mixture. --------------------------------- About the Hair. The cause of gray hair is the destruc tion of the top of the papillae, of life and color-giving bulbs at the root of the hair- Not only old age, but nervous de bility and exhaustion arising fro.n over work or dissipation, will cause the color of the hair to cease, and there are many instances on record ot the hair being turned suddenly white by a great shock to the nervous system, among the best known being that of the unfortunate Queen Maria Antoinette, It has also been stated that hair will sometimes re sume its original color again, as in the famous case of Nazarelia. Nazarelia, a man 105 years of ago, was, in 1774» at Vienna, presented by nature with a new set of teeth and a restoration of the black hair of his youth ; also, Sir John Sinclair, a Scotchman, dying at 110, re joiced in a youthful head of hair during the latter years of his life. “Variegated hair,” which is alternately banded white and black, is noted among the hirsute curiosities of nature, and green and blue hair have beon described by some authorities ; but these colors owe their production to the influence of surround ings in which their subjects live, the green hair belonging to those who work iu copper mines, and blue to those whose occupation is cobalt mining. Workers in indigo also have blue hair. In Tripoli and Turkey the ladies paint the hair of their children a vermiliion color. —f — ■ ■ » e ■ - ■ . ........ — Wi-mii j a Wife. Housekeepers’ Help. Miss Dod’s lectures are full of little bits of information that might fairly be called culinary proverbs. Here are a few of them: There are a greenness in onions and potatoes that renders them haid to di- , gest. For health’s saxe put them in warm water for about an hour before cooking. The only kind of a stove with which you can preserve a uniform heat is a gas stove; with it you can simmer a pot for an hour, or boil it at the same rate fo twenty minutes. Good flour is not tested by its color. White flour may not be the best The test of good flour is by the amount of water it absorbs. In cooking a fowl, to ascertain when it is done, but a skewer into the breast, and if the breast is tender the fowl is done. A few dried or preserved cherries, with the stone3 out are the very best thing possible to garnish sweet dishes. Single cream is cream that has stood on the milk twelve hours. It is best for tea and coffee. Double cream stands on its milk twenty-four hours, and for butter frequently stands forty-wghf hours. Cream that is to be whipped should not be butter cream, lest in whip] ping it change to butter. To beat the whites of eggs quickly, put in a pinch of salt. The cooler the eggs the quicker they will froth. Salt cools and also freshens them. In boiling eggs hard put them in boil ing water. It will prevent the yolk from coloring black. You must never attempt to boil the dressing of a clear soup in the stock, for it will always discolor the soup. I — In making sauce put the butter and flour together, and your sauce will never be lumpy. Whenever you see your sauce boil from the sides of the pan you may know your flour or corn starch is done. Boiled fowl with sauce, over which grate the yolk of eggs, is a magnificent dish for luncheon. Tepid water is produced by combining two-thirds cold and one-third boiling water. To make maccaroni tender, put it in cold water and bring it to a boil. It . will then be much more tender than if^ put in hot water or stewed in milk. The yolk of eggs binds the crusts much better than the whites. Apply it to the edges with a brush. Old potatoes may be freshened by plunging them into cold water before cooking them. Never put a pudding that is to be steamed into anything else but a dry mould. Never wash raisint* that are to be used in sweet dishes. It will make the pudding heavy. To clean them wipe with a dry towel. To brown sugar for sauce or puej/iings, put the sugar in a perfectly dry sauce pan, If the pan is the least bit wet, the sugv will burn, and you will spoil your saucepan. Cutlets and steaks may be fried as well as broiled, but they must be put in hot butter or lard. The grease is hot enough when it throws off a bluish smoke. The water used in mixing bread must be tepid. If it is too hoc the loaf will be full of great holes. To boil potatoes successfully: When the skin breaks, pour off the water and let them finish cooking in their own steam. In making ciust ot any kind, do not melt the lard in flour. Molting will in jure the crust. In boiling dumplings of any kind, put them in the water one at a time. If they are put in together they will mix with each other. “There is nothing,” says Lord Shaftes bury, “ which is so merely fortune and more committed to the power of blind chance than marriage.” A curious illus tration of his meaning comes to us from the staid old town of Franxlin, Massa chusetts. At an evening party there a gentleman challenged a charming young widow to try her fortune at Bas- sino. She accepted the challenge, and playfully proposed that they should play tor a wager, and he agreeing asked her to name the stake. Seeing she was at a loss to respond, the host laughingly said: “ His hand against yours.” The lady demurred, and was turning away from the table, when the challenger in terposed with: “ My hand for yours if I win, or at your disposal for any young lady of respectability, her consent being attainable, if I lose.” The wager was accepted, and the amused company gathered round the board. The lady led off and made 45, her adversary failing te score in return, but improving in his play as the game progressed, reached 215 to the widow’s 164. Growing ner* vous she played worse and worse, and finally left off the loser by 247 points. Then the hostess advanced, took the fair one’s feebly resisting hand, and’ placed it in that of the exultant winner, who begged permission to keep the mace with which he had won the match and a wife. 1 » —» i He that embarks in the voyage of life will always wish to advance rather by the impulse of the mind than the strokes of the oar, and many founder in the passage while they lie waiting for the gale, Cold Cabbage. George Abrahams was extravagantly fond of cold cabbage, and one day, see ing that quite a dishful was left after- dinner, asked hie wife to save it for Lis . salad at night. * About m idnight George came home laboring under a stress of heavy weather. Feeling hungry and thinking of his fav orite cabbage, be asked where it was. His wife ieplied: “ In the pantry, on the second shelf.” Down ho went, found the cabbage, got out the oil, mustard and vinegar, cut up the cabbage, dressed it to the queen’s taste and ate it all. In the morning his wife noticed the plate of cabbage wh^re she had placed it the night before, and, turning to her “dear George,” innocently asked him why he did not eat the cabbage. “I did,“ he said. “How did you like it!” “Oh, not very well, it was tough and stringy.” “But here is the cabbage; whey* -did you find any more 1” “Why, on the second shelf, where you told me.” A quick glance at the shelf by the wife and then a cry of agony. “Why, George, you have eaten $20 worth of lace collars and cuffs that I had put in starch; stringy cabbage, in- deed.” ___ ____________ To make the hands soft: Take portions of glycerine and alcohol; mis well; before retiring at night week the hands in warm water and rub well the lotion* WWW i