Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, May 13, 1876, Page 11

THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE: SATURDAY. MAY 12 187 TWELVE PAGE HOUSEKEEPING. Another Sparkling Letter from ¢« Mrs. Sarah L.” How to Utilize Dried Bread---An Escellent Bread Pudding. Facts in Proof of the Value of Bread Preparation. fHowBed-Bugs, Cockroaches, and Moths May Be Exterminated. aluable Advice Ahout Roasting Fowls and Preparing Soutse. TUESPAY’S BILL OF FARE. r:)m\};:«mar of the Trivune. Cmecaco, May 11.—1 have moved from my story abomination,” and last week could the time to answer even the mild G.,” but now having been landed firma with oune floor only over my ead, where, fanned by the lake breeze and in the enjoyment of the best of digestion, X shall find it most convenient and a great pleasure to reply to “Gu” as well as *Bridgeport,” with ur gracious permission, Mr. Editor, of course. yfl]‘_w’ teally, dear friends, and you didn’t {hink the espression, “the man I live with,” fonpy? Then youcan have po humor in your citions. 1 thought it was funny, but I ) % fifln“fisz jtsomuch on account of its wit as Dbecause I hate to see in print 3 woman elinging sbout with the most brassy facility the domestic torm; 4my husband? 1t always did sound ey ta me. Ivs all owing to onc's raising m&’&-u. But that nuvlml_\'A much less t Fomen, 8s you are supposed to be, should Jave thought me 3 Jomme enlrclentie, as vou é&em to insiuate, is beyond my power of comprehension or construc- tion of the English language. No, Mesdames; 1 was born and brought up” in Puritanical New ‘England, where sucl relations were foreizn to :h);lmhl\', and therefore could not .lave a Isce in vur thoushts, which, I perceive, is not 51&: case with you. . % G reproves me for my profanity. I was ot profanc. It was “the man I Hve with.” There are some subjects upon which, in his lan- tusse, L would remnind you of the Whele army ©f Flanders. But the occasion generally war- rants the indolgence, s in the case in point. You al:o express vourself .~ as pleas- ed at the Eupy blessing pronounced at our tabie. Iam glad. But you seem to bave doubts o o the religious bias of our folks. I'll tell you just how We manage it. We believe in fair playin this world. We Lave upon our Iibrary thelves Dr. McCosh's ** Intuitions of the Mind Inductively Investigated,” Ingersoll's #An Tionest. God_Is the” Noblest Work of Man,” Prime’s * Q, Mother, Dear, Jerusalem,” Chasu- ile's “Comedy of Convocations,” ®Royal Traths,” by Henry V. Beecher, and “Truths Not Sb Loyal,” by Theodore Tilion. These wo last crowd each other some. Asfor you, “Bridgeport,” I have becn won- dering whether or no your letter was a credit to the ealubrious locality from which it emanated, sod aleo whether it Was not written with some o limy quil, placked from 3 deesvod goosts dragged from the muck of Healey’s 8! ough. It yeads pretty slangy, that's certain, “The man Ilive witi” vows it smells of sour bread rosked in soda-water. e also says: “Tell ¢Bridgeport’ that, when she attempts aguin to grive information to 50,000 people cun- corning ihe superiority of the machinery, the railways, and scnools of this country over those of Europe, it is her bounden duty to- read up, since such jgnorane is not only laughable but culpable, when the information'is 8o accessible 2sitis in Chicago.” He thinks yon are a male- woman or a temale-uy: cither of which is never quite up to the ability of stating facts. Somuch by way of reply. Now for my Tues- fh{'s hi!l-ol»ixrltl i W % suppose, Frien ridgeport,” I am the best uffi.zcssionu cook i ?mn.’;isy. Every- tlirg L attempt I take a pride in doing well, afd with one of my cups of coffee (three parts d. 6. or Mocha, and one part Rio, remember), my beafsteaks and hot French rolls, I could decoy your husband (if vou've got oue) from your side any morning 1 should Choose to try. Into Lis cup I should put about two spoon- fols of rich boiled ‘milk, a Jump of loaf- fugar, and then pour from Iny French filter such clear red-brown liquor as would slmost make him drunk at sight of. My steak Ishould not beat at all. I'should tuike my pretty white platter, aud put on it a piece of Eweef butter about the size of a walnut, sprink- ling pepper over it, and et in 8 warm place. Thea rabbing both’sides of my porterhouse steaks with a little salt, I should put a couple in my bread-toaster, and over a not very ot fire bugin to broil them, taking care not tolet a E;ip of the juice fall, by constandy turning the ster. MyrollsI should make after this receipt: oneand three quarters pints of sweet milk; ¥{ cup of lard; 3{ cake compressed yeast; 2 table- Fpoonfuls white sugar. Put lard and sugar into ot water enough to dissolve, and stir into a lit- tleflour, previcusly salted. Dissolve yeast in milk, and, when your lumnp of flouris’a little oooled, stirin the milk. Knead into a stiff, round batch, and place your bowl in a warmish plae. The first thing in the morniug let the mirl make the dough out into rolls about the size of your two first fingers, and set torise in not too hot a place. They must be up and round like an egg-shell before putting in the oven. Potatoes pealed and cut in picees like the carpels of an orange, washed and dried ift a towel, aud then dropped intoa d{g kettle of oiling hot lard, are excellent with steak. When done they must be skimmed out, ealted, not_corered, but caten hot and as snon as done. With such a breakfast we gener- ally have a ragout of veal or mutton for dinner. Say barley soup, ragout of mutton, spinach, and rhabarb pie. The soup is n!wgfa made in the same way; that is the stock. The barley, which must be previously boiled soft, is then added, and then b!n: Wfbole bD‘i,lcd ]Elluwl about an hour. A ket~ e of soup broth to used in preparing all kinds of vegetables, is such an {)m )rov«.-figmnt “ip'“ our old Yankeg method of hoi{in every- thing in water. If you bave no broth, then tie steaming of vegetables is nexs.best. For the razout, I will give a reccipt_given me ,}voyr an old !;?nch coak,I and wlxifihBI l&uvc used 0 or three years. I st ¢ ¢ Bridgeport ;'f('e'?fl ol stew: Tfififpfsnuk o breast- lamb or youn mutton; cut in picces about 2 inches lob and 1 bromds put i 4 Satice: pan witha piece of butter the size of an ega; et over the fire and couk until a little brown, £tirring all the while to keep from scorching. Some like a seasoning of onion and bog-leaf, but wedon't. Now cover with water, say, for B Jomnds, a pint, and close the Lettle 50 that the stmmw‘ihnut escape; boil slowly until two-thirds dome, then sn{’bc "and pepper; pecland cut in thick pleces the potatoes, put~ Ung in as many pieces as_there are of meat. When done Jplace the meat in the middle of the platter, laying the potatoes around it. Now lake the sauce, add 4 cup of eoup broth, and thicken with a little flour; cut in a plece or two ©f lemon, & small sprig of parsley, and boila Doment. A few shots of whole pepper gives a good flavor. Now turn over all this seasoned sauce, and keep hot until eaten. - Epinach: steam if possible. When done press gm.a\l moisture; put in a frying-pan a piece of utter; cut the spinach in psn Witha knife, but fok 100 ine; ealt a litile; 3dd balf cup of soup- roth, and allow to dry away twenty minutes or f0. Dandelions, bect-tops, and sorrel are all o 3{"1 prepared. A garnish of hard-boiled 2 s lwfi we“.cngt wise and Taid around the plate, ubarb pie is good only when extravagantly l!;ldr_ A short crust, “fih two layers agt pie- {‘olflt, 28 much suzar gs one’s conscience will al- lw' and a handfull more, is the rule. No porfim" nlrui: t‘:csésd, " an omelctte, cold bread, eauce of some kh. ’u;dd‘?zku !mlfiv‘.:aatn mchgum or;mlctlc bg 0 eggs, b em_only enoug] abont i ell the “whites and yolks; then add xl‘l“ W0 tablespoonfuls of swiet milk, stirring : wliogqthu thoroughly. Put inomelctte pan mE slice of butter; cut into it one-quarter m:!:: onion in fivc‘ picces; let ”al;mwl:‘ in t‘llxs 3 ur in youreggs; galt a little &cofir." Watch it and mzerfi’;fmn the botto, lnlldiflnn the soft &m to run under until all is Pl hed. Then begin'to roll it, and a5 you ol tnnld the hot pan over your platter and v 0 it at last. Be surc and not allow o Amelette to cooks too much—it spoils t. Some th:t.v"'m say 4 llFhl onions; I nevcr could eat gt ‘Well, 1] I can say is, then you have not. mm}'fle\i taste. Man)g):op!e think it i5 not ey 10 eat certain ds of food. It is fenteel to cat everything that is conducive to b 'h_, an0d the best rearcd people eat all the ieties of food when well repared. Nothing 50 ill-bred as to see a 1 ly or gentleman at e table constantly asserting that they don’t ¢ this, and can't eat that, thus clearly ex- u got spare 1 s ebuke of n terra then por hibitiag £o the world thy §nd b d bread 5,5 the world that pork gnd beans an Tamily fodder r have g&m e unchanged 4 word mare and Y am dosa. I don’t expect to convert many to my mode of cooking, for it requires too much work to teach servants, and the women who can only take the time from their rufiling, tucking, and shopping, to concoet such dishes as “sour bread soaked. in soda- water,” will pever adopt my hints, any more S‘i‘m adelximLmnn “'nulftii refer a l.cdlelllerloln ton slice of dor meat or o dainty pates de Jvie gras to a dish of boiled locusts. i 4 Mes. SagAH L——. ANOTHER SHOT. To the Editor of The Tribune. BunLiveToN, Kan., May 6.—I was really amused to read the exclamations of the man that that woman lives with about the sour bread fried in grease. Iwould just as soon eat the breud us to ecat ¢ggs fried in grease, or oil on a sulad. It will take a stronger stomach than mine to digest cither, or to cat corn-bread, or to drink coffce or tea. That lady who fried the sour bread did not live so far from the kitchen ut that she saw poor flour sometimes, and felt that It was a great waste to .throw it away. ~ Now will give you a reccipt that will save all the trouble. Fora family of four, Iuse a threce-pint basin filled half full with’good, sweet milk; - two egas; thicken with shorts—we call it, some call it mid- dlings or coarse flour—it is better than Graham, because ground finer; make a batter thicker than for” griddlexcakes; bave the gem-pans ng hot on the stove; drop theni in very uick; place themin a very hot oven, hottcr than for biscuit. Put creim and sugar, with very little vinegar; on lettuce. I am very fond of soups if not £easoned too much. No parsley for me, mustard or pepper. Such trash make mkards. REC BREAD. To the Editor of The Tribune. CricaGo, May 11.—That wheat is the king of the cereals is, I suppose, quite generally ad- mitted. The New Englander cherishes his brown bread; the Southener believes in Lis hoo cake; the German munches - Lis sour rye bread with apparent rclish; the oaten bannock wus the staple food of one of the most martial and vigorous races known in listory,—the Scotch Highlanders; barley, millet, and buckwheat have their devotecs in different nations. But in all the wheat-growing countrics where wheat is within the means of the masses of the people it bas the prefercnce over the inferior grains. Its popularity is enduring. It can be caten for a longer time thun any other cereal without causing satiety, When circumstances compel the use of one of the other grains for daily bread, the white, Wheaten loaf is a prized lux- ul On the contrary, the child fed daily on the wheaten loaf will not cry for corn cake or oaten bannock. As an adult, he resorts to those only for variety, or as a hygienic measure. Doubtless one special resson for this prefer- ence is the facility with which it may be made into attractive, palatable bread, which will re- main unchanged for a long time. The white- ness, delicacy, and lightness of the loaf commend it to good taste. Its flavor is mot so pronounced as to interferc with the appreciation of any article of food which may be taken with it. If the liking for a fine, white loaf be merely a prejudice, born of habit, it is a very tenacious and obstinateone. Theadvocates of ©Graham bread have fought it for a quarter of a eentury with small success. Out of four persons who contine themselves to Graham bread probably four do so from a sensc of duty. We sllml! have to conquer this prejudice before we can avail ourselves of all the life-giving elements stored up in the grain. The wheat in has four envclopes (some authorities three and others subdivide these). The two outer cozts ave silicious and contain much ccllulose.. The third coat is a delicate, diaphanous membrane,while the fourth, or internal envdu{e, is composed of cells cont containing s _dark substance, which is nitro- grenous, and, like diastase, uctd encrgetically in transforming the starch of the grain into sugar, dextrine, etc. Within this lastarc the minate starch grains. w, let us see exactly how much we lose when all these envelopes are removed as in fine, white flour. The following, the average fourteen analyses, may be taken as the mean compozition ol flour and bran: ~In 190 Parts— Flour. Bran. Water.... ... eue. 14 10.3 Fatty matters. re 2.62 Nitrogenous subs 10.8% water (gluten) Nitrogenons sub: water (albumen) Non-nitrogenous 50l o .18 Potash, phosphoric acid, and magnesis, are the principal ingredients of the salts. The carthy phusphates are combined with the w- buminates. The ulkaline phosphates are free. By discarding the bran we lose alarge per- centage of the nutritive elements. If the bran is refained, as in_ordinary coarsely ground wheat, we also retain the cellulose and silica. These coarse particles of bran are only partly di- gested. Their nutritive material is ouly partly extracted. We therefore do not gain the end sired,—the appropriation of all the nutritive terial of the graiv,—and the undigested par- ticles, which ar¢’ hard and flinty in character, act s mechanical irritants, and in wmorbid conditions of the alimentary mucous membrane or where a tendency to 1aorbid action exists, cannot. be supposed to do anything but harm. When coarse wheat meal is _constantly used to counteract the ill effects of sedentary habits, it is probable that the advantage derived isof a very doubtful character. For sick per- sons, therefore, suffering from intestinal com- plaints, bread must be used entirely without pran. Medical writers speak of the Intractice- bility of dysenteries and similar disorders when this point has not been heeded. Competent authoritics assert that if the two outer coats are removed, and only the inner ones retained, we secure all the most valuable portion of the bran and losc only the worthless part. It is not thought by most experimenters that good and fresh yeast used in making bread con- faminates the product, provided the bread is left to become stale. To the accustomed palate stale bread is infinitely preferable to'fresh. But we need not be debarred from warm rolls and biscuit. If thescare lightly moistened with cold water, covered with paper, and placed in a moderately heated oven to warm, they may, if light and sweet, be eaten with impunity Dby any- Dbody who can cat bread at all. Bread should always be toasted over coals,— wood coals preferable. It should be evenly browned without_burning, pat between two hot plates, and served quickly. "It nsually suits best when dry, but if wetting is desired dip quickly into very hot water, remove to the hot late, and - put on a little sweet butter. ard biscuit or_crackers are not very easy of digestion. Yet their crispiness makes them rel- ishiable by many convalescents. The late Dr. Dalton, the fatlicr of our eminent %hysw!ogm, when asked what a patient might “have to cat, used to say ¢ Anything but a cracker.” But in those days a Boston_cracker, toasted, soaked, and lavishly buttercd, was the tion dict for the sick. We are wiser now, thanks to the ood doctor and his co-laborers, and while we gcpend mainly on the beef-tea and the beef- steak, we would not altogether deny the oat- meal or soda cracker, Sponge-cake—the dict bread of our ancestors —made_very light; cookics, light and not too sweet (7 care for cream cookics), and hard gin- crbread are among the best articles of their <ind for the convalescent and for children. The craving for sweets has its foundation in a need of the system. 1f inordinate, it indicates some- thing morbid or elsc a habit growing out of ex- cessive indulgence. In this casc all sweets would better cu;t?ua:% unizfl :lu:allthy nnnlu‘u.l appetite is re-cstablished. But so long as plain b‘:gncd, ‘meat, and fruit form the bulk ofthc dict, the occasional bit of cake or gingerbread need not be denled. 2 The unpurified sugars contain fungi, the acarus, an inseet not nfrecnble to the iinagina- tion, and are liable to fermentation. The actual result of a free usc of sugarisa mooted_point. It certainly ‘leads to an active disposition of adipose matter. That it impairs the tion and appetite and leads toa dis- relish Yor snbstmxu:nf) pfood is a suflicient reason for giving it to children very sparingly. Abetter way to use suzur than in'cakes and other dainties is as a condiment to light end simple puddings. These may be boiled rice, at- trition “pearled wheat, oatmeal pudding, tapi- oca, or, if they are liked and can be digested, ryeor Indian meal mush. Tasteful and innocent desserts may be made from these and ‘lllxlg 0“:1“ farinaceous foods, sup- lemented by milk and eggs. P‘It, nowevm!, thereis decded dyspepsia, indi- cated by flatulence, acid eructations and the like, it may e necessary to avoid all sweets. Ripe fruits in moderate quantities are as wholesome a5 delicions, We spoil them too often by the use of sugar, and this is unhappily wade ost neeessary by the unripe condition of all the fruit, particularly of the perishable sorts, in the market. It is not too much to say that e who Las mever plucked astrawberry under the June'sun or picked up a just-fallen peach from its bed on the brown mold docs not know the exquisite zroma and flaver of strawberries and peaches. - A similar objection lics agninst all the sum- mer as supplied to city consumers. A dish of asparagus or green peas, juley sweet corn from _vogzrr garden, {h:-na:g\:';{ tomatoes ripened on your own trellis, are very different things from the wilted and stale ves- etables bought at the green-grocer's, The fad that markei-gardeners in selecting their varic- 1&{!515 reject all'the 'fiiccr sorts and choose the we, coarse, rapidly-growing ki ki caso atill orarr 3 BFOving Kiuds, makes the The carly salads_grown in hot-houses are in- nacent and more likely to “agree” than the !nterfirowtlls of the garden. ~But if, being an invalid or even 2 little dyspeptic, you are fond of sunmer vegetables, you must ~ grow them in your own garden if you desire to cat them with 1mj unity.x - Some of the *spring greens” may be us with adyantage. Tho svetom: ncodsap alteme tive at that season, and” thesc are, perhaps, as good as ansthing, The late Dr. Harriet R. Hunt was once gsked how she managed to keep plump and -fair in March and April, when everybody else was green apa yellow, . '*Ob, I "should look like other people if I didn’t take care of myself,” she said.” . :‘ And what do you do 2" «“Teat dandelion greens,” was the answer, 1buy the first that come into market, aud I cat them every day. Ihave them hoiled in water, scttled a little, and all the spring I make my [ dinner of them andabit of potato, and so A1l don’t get bilious.” Asug M Have. S BREAD-PUDDING, ETC. Tothe Editor of Tie Tritune. Toutoy, Stark Co., IlL, Muy 9.—Not long since the subject of matrimouy had quite a “run” in your paper; and the subject of house- keeping scems in prospect of quite as extensive anairing. Well, let the ball keep rolling; “In amultitnde of counsclors there is wisdom,” and it will be quite a wonder if many useful itemsof knowledge, drawn from experience, do not ap- pear before the subject is exhamsted. 1 have been most interested in the articles pertaining to bread preparations, sclf-raising flourand cold- ground-whole-wheat flour, s “W. S. S, calls it, whose artivle gave all the information onc needed, with the exception of stating where it mayboobtained. Will % W. 8. 8. rise to explain? And then the appeal of the lady who did not know what to do with her dry bread, that would accumulate, touched a responsive vein, and I am moved to tell her what I do with mine now, not always, for it was s Jeak-hole that I Dave tricd in many ways to stop. As fast as any picees accumulate, I put them onto a tin and into the oven, and’ slowly but thoroughly dry them (ot brown); put them in a clean bag and hang up ready for any use, such 15 dressing for fowls or roasts, puddings, bread, pancakes, cte., and I find it a great convenience to have this reserved force to fall back on. And so itis that dry bread is no more a burden, nor need be to any housekeeper. And right here I will give a recipe for a bread pud!fing that deserves a more fanciful nwne, it i3 so nice. Make a bread pudding in the usual way, with egzs, sugar, and milk, adding a small piece of butter save out the whites of Lvo or three eggs); bake till done; then spread a thin layer offany kind of jelly over the top;then cover with the whites of the eggs, previously beaten to astiff froth, and sugared and flavored to taste; then return to the oven until a delicate brown. It needs no sauce, and is the best_thing in this line I know of, besides being & thing of beauty. The jelly permeates the whole, giving it adelicious flavor. y of your (1) The best way of T would like the expericnce of readers on the following: any difference withitssuccess. Onelady especial- 15 enjoins powdered or granulated sugar in her recipe. Now, I alwaysthink it well to give a reason for the hope thiat is in you, and ww quite curious to know what reason there can be for using granulated fugar, which never dissolves before gl:a}n‘ng, and seldom fully after. (4) A good recipe Jor ginger-snaps. Perhaps some may be interested to know that a little sweet milk, put into the dish-water i3 better than svap,—those that do not believe it caun try it, ave. And now one word to the woman who *“makes ber childfen eat soup.” I am heartily glad I am not one of them. Haven't children any tastes, likes, or dislikes thas we are bound to respect! Bécause one has the power and au- thority to compel obedicnee, is it just to do so even in the matter of eating soup? ~ All persons are not equally fond of soup, uor never could Dbe by any amount of compelling. And if, as writers on the subjeet say, that the palate should be pleased in onder that our food should do the greatest amount of good, how about thoee children who are smade to eat soup, while they see mure appetizing dishes denied themi And then she eays if they want meat, she gives them some of the “suup meat.” Now, the only use I make of my *soup meat” is to give it to 0od hungry dog—and I advise Mrs. come . Sarab . to “go auid do likewise.” S Mes. 8aRARC, PIG’S FEET. To the Editor of The Tribune. Cricaco, May 10.—1 have been a constant reader of Tne Trisuse's Housckeeping De- partment, and much prefer it to any other jour- nal that contains a Housckeeper's Column. In every case where I have tried any of Tue TTIBCNE'S receipts, I have found to be just what they claimed to be. The greatest number of reecipts in other journals are mere shams, not worth printing, and prove on trial often to be unpalatable. Allow me, with your permis- sion, to add the following prepuration of souse: Pig’s feet when properly cvolied, malke one of the best of dishes. In prepuring them, the water in. which they are cooked should be very hot. The hoofs should be peeled off witha sharp-pointed knife; the hard, rough places cut off, then thoroughly singed and boiled till ten- der or until it is diflicult to take up with a fork; boil about four or five hours; when taken up they should be placed in cold water, bones rc- moved, and the whole carefully packed inn wooden or stone vessel. After it is packed close, boll the jelly-like lquor it was boiled in with an equal quantity of vincgar; salt to taste; add cloves, cinnamon, and - allspice to suit the taste. The vinegar in which the ingredients were added should be poured on the souse sealding-hot and _covered. When wanted for cooking, it may be cut in slices and prepared cither for for frying or broiling—the former be- ing most preferred; orit may be caten cut in slices cold.” This s, an excelfent receipt, if di- rections are followed. Iam ignorant of the art of mnkinfi good cookics, but am willing to learn. Will some one enlighten me? Will be very much obliged. Cookits that will keep their moisture for a week ox, two,as well as cconomical receipts. Re- epectfully, CoRABELLA P, —— PHOSPHATES. To the Editor of The Tribune. Crrcaco, May 11.—Your correspondent, "W, 8. 8.,” takes exception to the many commenda- tions of Prof. Horsford’s bread preparation; and objects to the use of' phosphates, unless they bave been organized into food by the pro- cess of nature, as they arc found in oats, the bran of wheat, meat, ete. Now, it is not denied that there canbe no improyement on naturc in this respect. More than this, it is conceded that the phosphates as found in these alimentary substances are superior to those of an unorganized charscter in thefr effects on the human system. But, while this Is grant- ed, we must still contend that the phosphates in an unorganized form have proved very salutary in the promotion of the health of multitudes who have used them. i This is demonstrated not only by facts as wit- nessed in the cffects of Horsford's preparation, but in the various medicinal preparations of iron and phosphates which Lave been so popular of lnte years. All these medicines contain these substances in an unorganized form, and there are few persons who will deny that they have proved benificial to rnititudes of invalids. If they had taken the same amount of phosphates in oatmeal and Grabam flour, doubtless they would have received stiil greater_bencfit, But, failing to do so, they found themselves restored to health and vigor by the substitute of plosphatic medicines. T'his fact proves the fallacy of your correspond- cnt's statement that “The atiempt to supply them artificially will ever be rmlght wit! danger to every individual consumer.” T proof of liis error, take the following fact : A pgysk:inn had o child 3 or 4 years old, who had never walked on_aceount of the de- ficiency in the strength of the bones. Ie ob- served that the child would pick the plastering from the broken wall and est it. He took the hint of what mbature demanded, ve lher phosphatic medicines, and soon ber bones gained strength so that she could usc her, h’mbsgnke other children. Now, Trof. Horsford’s preparation is an excellent sub- stitute for all those phosphatic medicines which are so extensively sold by the druggists, and is equally beneficial in restoring invalids to health, There are but few persons who will eat suflicicnt Graham bread and oatmeal tosupply thetissucs of the body, especilly the brain and boues, with a su&c{enc quantity of phosphates to maintain health, streogth, ond mental vigor. Where they do not they will find Prof. Hors- ford's preparation sn excellent article in supply- ing the ency. Even those who use coarse food freely will be benefited by introducing this artide into their larder. Take my own case for an illustration: TFor two years I was so prostrated that for most of the time I could not walk a block without stopping to rest. My acquaintances thought my days would soon be numbered. Becoming con- viriced that the various tissucs of my hody de- munded a_greater amount uf phosphates and nitrates, I sought them in unbolted flour and extract of meat, and found a wonderful benetit ulting therefrom. After living in thls way for two years, T added the "f of " Iorsford’s preparation, and was sitprised, at the end of a month, to find the increased improvement from its use. It was the most pereeptible in its eflect on the brain, the mind becoming clearer and the memory stronger. For the first two years I sought that kind "of food which contained the preatest amount, of nitrates and phosphates; yet it is evident that if did not containt sufficicnt of -the latter, from the fact of the still greater im- {»im\'umunt after adopting the bread prepara- on. R. BED-BUGS. 70 the Editor of The Tribuna. Cricaco, May 11— [lousckeeper? fn May 6 editlon of your valuable paper asks for a suro destroyer of bed-bugs. With pleasure, also great assurance, [ offer the following gimple, cheap, and effcctive remedy: Corrostve subli- mate, 1 ounce; murinte of ammonia, 2 ounces; dissolve both in 1 pint of water; apply to all cracks in walls, floor, beds, and springs with o feather. Ihave used this with perfect success. ‘When I moved into my present house one year age I Jearned from the previous oc- cupant that sbe had to abandon rooms to these pests. TFirst I gave the rooms a complete cleaniug, then thoroughly applied this mixture to cvery crevice in the floors and walls, and to my furniture; s{mnk]cd the mattresses and carpets with same. Since then I have not found one. Bear in mind that “Eternal vigilance is the price of ’—com- plete success. XEvery week the mattresses should be examined, and if at any time signs of the enemy are found a_little more mixture should be used. My bottle is full and properl labeled, set away ready for use on demand. Every three months the beds should be taken apart, and if any bugs are found then the entire room must be cleancd again, for we all know that, no matter how clean our own houses are, we are liable any day to bring them in onour clothing, or havé our friends Bring them in, , As for moths, T have been very fortunate,— never have been troubled with thém. The only cause T can assign for my escape is, to perfect and eflective sweeping and dusting, and keep- ing my house well open to the light,—not neg- lecting the clothes-presses and closcts. Moths delighit in dark and still_places, and if stirred up vigorously once aweek will be apt to seck wore quict quarters in some other house. . Mrs. McC. ANOTUER. To the Editor of Tne Tribune. CmicAGo, May 12.~Much obliged for the in- formation about cockroaches given by “House~ keeper” in your issue of May G, and in return can give her asure remedy for the evils and discomforts of moths, and that other inscet so hard to dispose of after once gaining possession of a house or bed, and which is 6o often brought in on the clothing of visitors just from the boat orcars. A year ago my house was afllicted in that way, when 2 friend told me I could procure an inscct powder at 1470 South D (the name las gone from my memory’ would entirely destroy them. I obtained it, and used it exactly according to the directions given, and had the satisfaction of finding wmy house entirely free from the terrible pests. Respect- fully, P.D.L. ACENOWLEDGMENTS. 7o the Editor of The Tribune. HyDpE PARK, May 10.—Let me thank you for the interesting and useful articles published in your Housckecpers' Depurtment. And may I, through you, thank Mrs. Amie M. Hale for her valuable contributions ? I should like also to 2dd my testimony in favor of “Whole-Wheat Flour.” Wheat has been called ‘“the royal grain, and in whole-wheat flour, or attrition flour, we get the rogal grain, while fn white flour of the very best quality we lose mearly four-fifths of the most important elements. 1 know from expericuce that whole-wheat flour makes sweet and deliious bread, gems, and muffins, far superior to anything I've ever tasted from Graham flour; but I did not know that nice cakc eould be made from it until I read in your issue of Saturday, March 25, a Tettor. trots 3ire. Lo . d.y 10 which she pays. she makes from whole-wheat flour erullers, drop- biscuit, gingerbread, jumbles, and_sponge-cake. I shall be very glad to avail myself of bher kind offer to furnish Tecipes for them through the columns of your paper. For the benefit of C. A M. T send a recipe for New Euglund gingerbread: One cup sugar; 1lcupof molasses, beaten thoroughly; 24 cup of butter; 2 ¢zes; 1 teaspoon of soda i s cup flour; 2 teaspoous of of sour milk; 43¢ cups o ginger. 74 AD ML ANOTHER. To the Editor of The Tribune. CHICAGO, May 11.—As it is always gratifying to know that our efforts to benefit others are successful, I beg a small space for the purpose of thanking “J. B.” for her article on * Hand- Worlicd Rugs,” in TuE TrisuNE of last Saturday. With little boys who wear out clothes rapidly, Icaving them in condition not good enough to gire, yet. too goodl ,to throw away, I have abun- ¢ of exccllent material. ‘Fiiis I have kept, instead of putting in the “rags,” hoping in some way to discover a mcthod of utilizing it. I had a faint recollection of having heard that Yery pretty rugs could be made of old woolens, but it was too indistinct to be of any assistunce. Again thunking “J. B.," and trusting that the articles on * Home Adorament?® will’ not cease, 1 remain resfectfully, Mes. I 2 TO ROAST FOWLS. To the Editor of The Tribune, GEXEVA, IlL, May 10.—I will give here my way of roasting fowls, First pick them clean; then hold them over a blaze to remove anything thut is left; then wash them with soap and | warm water; rinse in cold water; wipe dry with clean towel; then take the eatrails out; wash the inside with eold water; boil the liver and gizzard tender; let the water boil down to one- half pint; have ready, in a chopping bowl, lalf a loat of bread, butter the size of an egg, one teaspoonful of salt, one quarter tcaspoonful pepper, and oneteaspoonful sage. Turnliverand frizzard; pour water over all, and chop fino; il the fowl; sew it up tight; then butter it all over, and wrap it i o sheat of tissue paper; tie it up with a cord; put one pint of water and a teaspoonful of ealt in your roasting pan; lay a wire grate on it, and place your fowl on it. It must not touch the water; ‘a wire stand is the best; you can get one made at any hardware store.~ The oven must be hot, and & large fowl must be turned cvery fifteen minutes. It takes three hours to roast a turkey, two hours for a chicken, one hour for quails. Don’t be fright- encd if the paper gets black. When you take it off, your fowl will be 2 beautiful brown, and of a delicious flavor. Afns. E. G. COCKROACHES. To the Editor of The Tribune. . GENEVA, 1ll, May S.—For the benefit of “ Housckeeper,” I will give her my cxperience with these pests. We built a house in Chicago with modern improvements, hot and cold water, ete. Imention the class of house, for it is_in these that people are troubled the most. We lived in it three years, and never saw one dur- ing that time. We rented {t two years to a party, and when e came back it was overrun with them, Tt is near the hot-water pipes that they breed. I had the house thoroughly cleaned, and every day I had it cleaned around the pipes, wash-stands, and bath-room, with liot water and soap, the house lighted and well aired, the kitchen cleaued every day, so that there was 1o smell of food left in it after the work was done. With this treatment they will not stay with you more than one month. Aoths will not trouble any one if the house has :n.horoth swcepinf once & week, and kept light and well-aired; and, if possible, the sun ought to shine in every room. As to bed-bugs, I am never troubled, except in the servants’ room, and I remedy that by var- nishing the insideyof the bedstéad, springs, slats, and all the wood. They lay their eggs in the wood, not the mattress. Mes, 8.S. TO KILL MOTHS. To the Editor of The Tribune. Cr1CACO, May 11.—To kill motbs without dis- turbing the carpet: Take a towel, dipitinwater, then wring it out, and spreading it upon the car- pet, iron it dry with a hot fron; after whicli re- move_aud repeat the process, going round the outside of the room. The steam thus gencrated, will foree tsulf through the carpet, wnd kill both the moth aud its gz, The foregolng method is radieal and sure. s, E. 8. W. R BAKING FISH. Ta the Editor of The Tribune. FouT WAYNE, Ind.,, May 10.—If some lady, through your valuable columns devoted to the “Houschold,” would plasss give diroc- tions for baking fish—any kind—and a receipt for a sauce for the aforesald, sbe will bave the many thanks of a young housekeeper. . Mps. W. MY GEORGIE. I have been asked to tell the story; but, if T tell it atall, it must be in my own way. I'm an old woman now, and if I ramble and maun- der at times, why, perhaps you would do the same if you were 60 years old. It wasw't nevessary to sce through a millstone to sce that. one of the giris loved bim with her whole heart, while the other—but there! I have got into the middle of the story, and haven’t told you the beginning yet. There wasn’t any great harm in Ida,—I believe that thoroughly,—but the child was too much of akitten to know her own mind. Pretty? Ob, yes, very pretty, even to my old eyes; just the sort of beauty that old age likes, with plenty of light and color sbout it—great soft dark eyes, and beaps of dark tangled hair, and the bloom of the damask rose on her soft oval checks. She wasa good little thing in the main, but fanciful and flighty and eapricious as a will-o’- the-wisp, and with o whole storchouse of ro- mance treasured up in her foolish little brain. It was really as goud as a play tosee thatdainty, luxurious little creature sitting there in her silks and laces, talking about sclf-sacrifice and the pleasure of working and economizing for the man one loved. Work and economy, forsooth! and she knew about as much of either us a mollusk does of algebra. Not that I know what a mollusk is —Heaven forbid!—but it seems to be the fashion now to talk the most of what you un- derstand the least. Yes, Ida was a nice little thing, bright and good-natured, and gencrous in an fmpulsive, open-handed way ; but, bless you! she had about as much power of loving in heras a kitten. Shecould like people and be fond of them, and all that sort olPflnug, as long as everything was'smooth and pleasant ; but the first touch of adversity—puff! ber little rush- light oflove was out witha whiff, iustead of burning up clearer and stronger and fiereer for the blast, as it ought to do if'it were the right sort. . ‘What is the use of being hard upon the child, though, for what she could no more help than she could the mole upon her cheek, which troubled herso? Love is a %ift and u talent, Tike any other. Some people have it_and somé haven’t, and whether ftisa gift to be prayed for or not is a question my poor old brain ¢an- not pretend to settle. I believe in it yet, old as. 1am, and I helieve in fusanity, but it’s precious little I've seen of eitlier the one or the other. ‘They say we _are all crazy, more or less, only in most peoFlc it never comes out very strong, und perliups it’s much the same with fove. Isup- puse most of us have more or less of the commodity lying loose about us, ready to be squandercd “on” anybody that comes ~ along. People in general are satisflied to dribble it out, herea little and there a little, until it is all gone, and nobody the better for it—or the worse. Once in a \\'hih:}l though, you come across somebody who has hoarded up the whole stock, and kept it intact until the one comes along who claims it all. Is that the better way? I'm sure I can't tell. It all depends upon who comes in for it at the ¢nd. Georgie was one of that kind, T think; a little mite of a creature, with none of 1da's bright- ness or bloom about ber, but taking, in her way, too, with the Tvok of quiet resolutfon about the square chin and firm little mouth, and the Wistful, yearning spirit that seemed always pespiig our of the ~bluegray eves. Soft brown hair, and a fair, quiet lit- tle face that could wake up and s skl with life when anything stirred or amused her—that was Georgic. And both of the girls thought they loved him, though what there was about him that was so wonderfully attrictive Inever could sce. A good-looking young fellow enough, tall and manly, with a brown mustache, and a olear frank look in his brown eycs. You see hundreds as a5 heis every day, and what there was about him—Well, well, girls are wmysterics, and very different from what they werewhenIwasyoung. Then we didn’t consider it proper to talk, or even think,about such things. We took the the gave us in that line, and were thaukful; of, if we didn't choose to take it, we went without, and never vexed our heads abont auy “might have beens.” That's what Idid, and I'm none the worse for it now. Perbaps, though, if Georgie’s father—But that is ali over and done with long ago. Somctimes 1 thinky thoughy tiat that niay be the reason I love the ter, yes, cortainly bettur, than ida, though she is my own nicce. But here I am maundering on about my own views aud my own thoughts and my own feel- ings, and haven't told you who they zll are yet. Ida, you sce, is my niece—Idz Merton, my brother's only child. “Georgie is Georgie Gresh- am, a distant connecction of Ida’s, who lives in the house, but supports hersel{ hf iving music-lessons. Such 4 patient, plucks, indomitable little mite as she , trudging out in all weathers, and coming bick pale and tired, but with never a complaint from Ler firm little lips, aud always with a bright smile and a cheertul word for “ Aunt Jeanie,” as she, tao, calls me. I believe the child really dues love me; and so does Id:}_ only hers is 2 diffcrent sort of love. You feel that if you were uway, Ida would love a stick, or a stone, or anythily that wmight happen to be in your 3 but Georgic would niever forget you— never. The young man is Mark Drayton, and be is only a clerk m my brother’s store; but, for ail that, e is of good birth and brecding, The wheel of fortunc has strange ups and downs, and he wes glad cnough of the place when Mr. Merton sougsit kim out aud offered it to him, in memory of carly benetits which he bad reccived from young Diaytow's father, Neither of them had ~ ever” had nnfl» reason to Te- pent the step, for Mark bad proved to .be steady and honorable, with rare tlishes of what Wos almost like a genius for bus- iness, if there can be sucha thing. He had risen steadily, until it was quite understood that next year he was to bea partner in the large wholesale aud retail dry-goods house of Merton & Co. Al things considered, hie would not have been such 2 bad match for Iila, only that I knew that the child did npot really care about bim, and therc was Georgie break- ing her - proud, patient little heart for his sake, and nobody saw it but one old womau, who bad bcen “through it all herself and knew what it meant. It was hard cnough for her sometimes, but she was not the kind to {ret or bemonn berself. Of course the young man waa caught by Ida's witcheries, for the littie puss was as fond of ad- miration as a cat is of sparrows, and_spared no pains to fascinate him. Iwonder that the two rirls continued as good friends as they did; but think Georgie saw that Ida was not really to blame, and was only acting out her nature, in perfect ignorauce of the déadly hurt_which she was inflicting upon her fricnd. For though Georgie had told her of herlong, long friendship with “Mark Drayton when he was only a poor, struggling clerk, she bad never told of the Tooks and words and ways with which he had won away her beart before either of them knew it. Not that the young man was dishonorable either. She had beeu his only friend in those days, you sce. That was while her widowed mother was still living and_Georgie was living with_her. It was nou until after her mother had died that the girl came to live in Mr. Mer- tou's house, Sympathy and friendship are very sweet, and Georgie had been patient and tender and true, and the young man had learned fo think of her o5 a sister, sud perhaps slmost to_love_her as something more, but it all seemed 80 ho);elcss that he never spoke. And then he met Ida, and was dazzled aud be- witched by her, and so Geaorgie was eclipsed for awhile—only for awhile, Ifcit sure, if 'he and TIda could bat be kept from committing them- selves until both had had time to wakeup from their foolish dreamn. ‘That evening, though, I began to fear that the rash young things would take matters into their own bands. Mark always did run about the house like a tame cat; thiere were few cvenings that did not find him in our drawing-room. No doubt it was very good for the young man, and Tiopt him out of ‘@ great deal of - mischief, but I could not help thinking sometimes that be was not the only one to be cousidered. That evening Ida excrted all Ler witchery. Sucha bright, sparkling little puss she was when she chose! l}; was not what she said; that was well enough in its way, but neither remarkably wise nor witty, but so enforced and pointed by droopings of the long lashes, and poutings of the red Iips, and flashings of the dark eyes, and flutterings of the little white hands, that even an old woman like me couldn’t help forgetting for awhile what nonsense the whole thing was, aud being carricd away and captivated an fascinated in spite of berself. And all the while my little Georgic sat there, with her pale face and her gentle, quict ways and her uaint little words, just the same as ever, for_anything they could sec. And I fan- cied now aund then that there was a quick Catching of Ler bresth or o passing contraction of her pretty forchead—why, erhaps it was only my famey. I d to think so, at all events. Presently they bezan to talk of the opers, and Ida declared with her pretty hands clasped, that she adored Nilsson. Didn’t Mr. Drayton think she was just divine! And oh! what would she give fi)sec hc(\i l;} “F:\un""rl‘ Sgc :::: had seen her in that, and she was sure she be & perfect Marguerile. _Did Mr. Dragtan know gitl s0 well—bet-+ that that was the opera for to-morrow night, and perhaps that would be the lass time it would be given ¢ And Ida stopped, with her hands still clasp- ed and her eyes tixed on the young man. I de- clare I could Liave boxed ber pretty pink cars Georgie could not have done it; bt ticn thi: that would have secuied forward and unmaig 1y in other girls, in Ida secmed so simple and artless and unconscious that you couid not Le disgusted with her. OF course thiere was nothing for Mr. Drayton to do but to say tkat he would be deligited to escort her. caught one swift glance from Georgie’s eyes, and then I remembered that he was to have taken her oo that very eves ug to bhear a celebrated pianist who w sctting the whole city wild; but Georgie did not speak. She was. only a friend and a sister, and must learn to ULe quictly put aside when others claimed his serv- ices. i’crbaps the young man’s conscience smote him a little, for he was unusually gentle and at- tentive in his ways to Georgic that evening, and 1 heard bim say, i *You know, Georgie, that he will be here for some time, and any uight will do for him, but Nillson may not appear as Marguerile again.” “Oh yes, it is all right. quite under- stand,» said Georgic; and if his earwas not quick’ enough to detcet the little quiver in her voice, nor his eyc sharp enough tosee the flutter. of her lip, though my old eyes n;ul?.us could perceive both,” whose fault was thiat Love is blind, they say; buta calm, friendly indifference is blinder than any mole. 1 scarcely saw Georgie the next day, but Ida was in and out, brght and blitbe as usual. ‘When the cvening came both the girls were in the drawing-room. Ida was radiant. Her dress was of black silk, but all tricked off with soft fine laces, with flecks of scarlet here and there. Scarlet fuchsias nodded in Ler bair and dropped ut hier dainty throat. Georgie looked like a pale shadow beside her, in ber soft gray gown, unre- lieved by a single dash of color, but, to my eyes, 50 swect and fair in her brave, quiet composure. ‘Well, the eveniug crept slowly on, and Ida Emw {mpatient, flashing hither and thither in er_quick, rostless way, while Georgic, Lalf hidden in the shadow of the curtains, kuitted on steadily at gome piect.of soft. tlcecy wori ap- parenily unmoved. The carringe had been waiting at the door for an hour, and still no sign of hark. Just a5 Ida was for the forticth time appeal- ing tous to know if it were not the strangest thing we ever beard of, and where in the world could he be, the doof opened and 3r. Merton entered. A tall, finedooking man was this brother of mine, with silver hair and clear Ulue eyes, and the port aud bear- ing of a gentleman of the old echool, ufih the polished courtesy of that by-gone class, 100, and the dignified calm which scarce any- thiog could rautfie. So it startled us to secea chady w on his face, which deepened after the, quick glance which he cast around the room. “What is the matter, brother Paul?’ X asked; and both girls looked up. X “Iam vexed and pnzzled,” was his reply—a most unusaal one for him. “Icame in hoping against hope to find Mark Drayton lLere. Yol have seen nothing of himn 27 Mark Drayton!” Idalistened in earnest now, and even Georgie dropped her work. “Tt is o most perplexing thing,” he went on. 7 would stake my life_on the young fellow’s truth and honer; yet what can have Lecome of Become of him! A perfect hurricane of ques- tious arose; only Georgie wassilent s death in her obscure cortier. As soon as Ida could be in- duced to listen and let the rest hear, brother Paul told his story. How that in the mornmg a lady had entered ihe store, a lady regal in silks and laces, mere xezal in port aud béiring, so brother Paul said, and Tair, with great llashing hazel eyes, Sad bair of pulest gold. How that this lady, after inspecting und lavishly ordering the rich- est and costliest goods, velvets, silks of every sbade, _laccs—old ; point, Honi- ton, gujpure, Mechlin—*enough to dress you dfrom head to foot, = Ida”—had Suddenly discovered that she had forgotten her purse and check-book. -In sorc perplexity sho sent her card to Mr. Merton—Mis. Launce D’Arleton was the name it bore—with a request for an interview. Explaining that she was obliged to leave town that afternoon, she begged hitn to send a trusty derk in the carriage with her to receive and bring back the money. %S0, caid brother Paul, in conclusion, “I asked ‘Mark to go as a personal favor. 1t is h{m‘l&y his business, but I'thought I could trust “ Well, papa?” sald Id:a a5 he pansed. 4 Well, that'js all,” said brother Puul. ¢ All, papa? But where is Mark?” “Ah! that is the question. Since he entered the carriage with Mrs. D’ Atleton, nothing has been secn of him. The sum was a large one, and whether he has yielded to the sudden temp- tation—but that is iinpossible. Yet foul play, the only alternative, scems cqunll{ impossible. 1 bave sct the police on the track, but I am ut- terly bafied and bewildered.” 1cannot pretend to describe the scene that followed this announcement. I know that fora moment there was dead silence in the room. ‘We were all, I think, too much shocked and stunned to speak. Ida still stood in the middle of e floor, with a face from which every vestige of color had fled. Then Georsie came forward, and, as if her moyement Lad snapped the spell, the silence broke up suddenly,—questions, surmiscs,doubts, suspicions, set aside as soon as formed, for none of us could really suspect of any evil-doing the young mun whom we had known so long and so well.” But ail came back to the one Lorrible, un- answerable question, Where could he be? 3 I can only tell the story from my own point of view, and there is no use in my trying to enter into the details of the police search, of the re- wards offered, of the clews which they thought they had found, but which invariably léd to noth- ing. Had the carthopened and swallowed Mark and that mysterious woman, they could not have disappeared more utterly. The detective sys- tem'was a mystery past our comprehension, tud we could do nothing but sit at bome and wait, deluded with fresh hopes or sickeued by freshh fears as day after dn{nurcpt £lowly on. You understand that, apart from the horror of the mystery so suddenly thrust into our midst, u;l:l) leart was wrung for Georgie, bearing her burden of anguish so patiently. Day by day her little face grew paler and thinoer, and the wistful, yearning look decpened fn her eyes, and her lips were more firml{ set in their reso- Tute line. - But I knew that her dread was_only of his death; I knew that no shadow of a doubt of his truth and honor had cver crossed her mind. x And how was it with Ida? The child, at first, was the most wretched of any of us, and yield- ed to her feelings without restraint. But when the first horrible shock was over—how shall T expressit? I think the long misery of suspense bored her. She could mever endure ennwi, and, sad and shocking as it may be, there is a certain dreadful ennui in all protracted grief. She grew tired of it, tired of waiting aud hoping and fear- ing, tired of our sad faces, tired, most of all, of the long strain of grief on’ her_ light, carcless nature. So af last it was really a relief to bher to open her ears to the rumors and suspicions which circulated among _those who_did not know Mark as we did. It jus- tified her in casting aside the show of sadness, +which had already ceased to be -any thing but o show, and when 2 doubt was once” entertained, it was casy for it to become a settled angry con- viction. Well, time passed on, as it always does, whether its foot falls on roses or vn breaking hearts. We wercall collected in the drawing- toom. How well I remember the scene! The room was lighted only by the wood fire, Which sent its fine flickers wavering over floor and ceil- ing. Georgic sat on a low ottoman. How thin Der face looked as the bright lights and deep shodows chased each other across it! She was dressed in black, put on, perhaps, poor child! as a silent emblem of the sorrosw that had almost dicd _into hopelessness. Ida was at the oth- er side of the room, talking to young Somerby, who had dro[;lpcd in, just 08 she used to talk to Mark, with the same pretty gestures, the same grch inflections, the same soft, ringing laughter. How conld she?_But it was the child’s natare, 1 dared not forget that, or I should have hated her for her fickleness and heartlessness. Suddenly the door into the hall opened. And +who stood there, a black figure_sharply defined arainst the glare of light? For an instant we all sat mut¢ and motionless, uncertain, think, whether it was a ghost or not. For‘we lhad become so sure, Georgie and 1, that he was dead, you ste, thongh neither of us had breathed the suspicion to the other, nor would we have acknowledged it had we been taxed with ft. For an fnstant we sat 80, and then with a low ery of “Mark! oh, Mark! fs it you at fasti?” Georiic sprang for- ward, her face all lighted up with eager joy and trivmph. But he? He scarcely noticed her,—my poor little Georgle!—just took her hand mechanic- nll&' as he peered into the shad ows. Tda !V I exclaimed, ly, for the child had nfivzr stirred, mougsga?h{ sew him well enoug Then she came forward, slawly and re- luctantly. I think she was frightened, for she hated tragedy with every fibre of her nature, and shé had been living in the midst of it for two weeks, aud now its culmination in bodily shape stood before her. She did not know what todo. The kitten had nothingin ber nature to euuble her to rise to the level of such a crjsis as this. She could neither cast away her suspicions nor avow them boldly to his face. She just stood before him, with eyes half downcast, half averted, but with fear and suspicion 2nd distrust written so legibly on every feature .that the young man must - e = have been blind indeed not to read that silent languace. Not & word of welcome, not a question as to where he had becn, nothing “bat that confused blushing silence which the most casily deluded lover could wever have mistaken for the ti- midity of fove and joy. I think Mark was be- wildered at first, but a3 he stocd and gazed at Ler, gradually the meauing of it all grew plain to I, and bis expression changed. - I saw tho ride and calm contempt slowly rise and aver low his face, as it were, 252 wave may, spred slowly over flat when the tide comes in. There Was no anger in his ook, no resentment. He seemed only like ote who wakens slowly from @ pleasant dream. And then—then he turned o my Georgic at Jast, aud over his face thers - came 2 glowand a light suchasI had never seen there before, as he said, simply: “ But Georgie believed in me.” And she Went tohim aud wept her heart away in his encircing arm, and I drew 1da oftly away and left them, 'Young Somerby had had sense cnough to take himse be- - {ore. 86 Georgie hzd won not much of a prize, after all, to my thinking; but if she was satis fied, that was all that was necessarry. Of course I was dying to hear Mark's story, but Ihad not the héart to intrude tpon them then. When he did tell it at last, it seemed more likc a cmz{ dream than asober, matter-of- fact episode of the nineteenth century. When he got into the carriage wiflxlhs.ug'mlcwn, she, it , sccms, began to talk in so brilliant end fascinating & manner that he not _notice the direction . in which they were driving until they stopped be- forc a large building, which he recognized as the lunatic asylum. Requusting him to wait a fow minutes, as she had business inside, she left him. Shortly after he was areeted politely by the doctor in charze, who canie 1o thé carriage, and, addressing him as Mr. D'Arlcton, reqaest ed him to stép out for & minuze. Mark dis- claimed the name, but fer this Dr. Langley was repared, as Mrs. DArletor: bad told him that er husband was the im ' of a st hallucination, believing Limsclf a elerk Tn the house of Merton & Co., and giving his name as Mark Drayton. Recognizing the trap set for him, Mark, by his own account, lost his head for the moment, knocked dawn one or two of the men who udvanced to_seize him, and conducted himself generally so like a lunatic’'that there was no room for doubt of MMrs. D’Arleton’s story in any mind. Of conrse he was overpowered at last and taken into tho- building, catchivg a glimpse as he passed of Mrs. DiArleton in an attitude of bitter and maost becoming E:rieL She Lad taken the pre- caution to pay his board a month in advance,’. thus securivg his detention long enough te allow lier to cscape with her booty. As time went on and he becune calmer, his entreatics to be confronted with Mr. Merton which at first had been treated as mere ruvings, began to make more impression. At last Dr. Langley, meeting Mr. Merton accidentally, mentioned the eircum- stance, and the result, of course, was Mark’s e ere s 0 there s my story, and if it is not artistical- 1y kandled, why, I am an old woman, as I told you, and not used to sach _things. To me the chicl interest centered in Georgie, and if 1 have made her the principal figure, sud rather slurred over Mark’s adventures, it is partly for that reason and partly because, beyond the bare ont- line, we could not get much out of him. He bad suffered too much, I suppose, during his in- carceration to Iet Lis mind dwell ipon it willing- Iy. Mrs. D’Arleton was never traced; but whenever we take up a paper and read of a suc- cessful swindling operation, we look at each otlécr and “'cn‘lldt:}rf “L Was it shei” W . Georgic and Mark are very Lappy, if we may i‘udgc by appearances, and T Udnk?grc may. Ida 1s outgrown her suspicions, and Mark has Tor- given her for them, but the old glamour hag goue forever, which is very fortunate for all con~ Gurned. And if Ida and Soung Somerby should come to terms, why, I think it will be a very good. tbin'i, for there are no heights in the na- ture of eithe b r after which the other must strain in yain, So my task is done, and now I can lay downmy pon aud take my rest by the bearth where we have sat, Georgic and I, s0o many times, and where we have both dreamed oar dreams,—I of & darkened past, she of & dark- ened fatare. We dream them no more; and it her future is bright, Isce beyond and abova s ich is bright with a brightness give—Harper's Magazine e e SONG OF THE *'HELP™-LESS, 1t 1s **work! work! work!" With nevera chance to shirk. id **poverty, hunger, and dirt, The broom and'dish-cloth I flirt! 1t is bake and brew, fret and stew, Everthing old and nothing news It is make and mend, patch and darn With thread that breaks and tangled yaem. Fires to light, and beds to make, *Tatoes to wwash, and boil or bake (We don't induige in pics and cake) ; Children to wash. and dress, and comb; And make the dull place look like homa. Early to rise. and late to bed; Tecstless slecp, with aching head; Itis **Grandmamma ™ here, ditto thers, And,**Mamma " wanted everywhere. Willie, do this! Fdith, do thatt Freddie, come here—bang np yonr hat— Close the door gently! Taby, take thist < Dea div e soe tandy?* Yei~for a kisste From morn to night, from night to morn, Ever the same i tho children's song; Bat how my pen began to rhymo Insuch a place, at such a time, When life at best is dullcst prose, And day by day still duller grows, Ts more than I or any one kows— Save 'tis casiest way of telling one's woes My song is sung, and it is true; T have not told the baif Idol I\I\ril twentieth, 'seventy-gix, Finds us in this ** Aelp*-less fixt Bat, jesting aside, if things don’t mend T'1 suicide (?) for sake of the end: 4*Qver the hilis” to my death I'll go,~ Not to that ** poor-house™ over the snowl Yhen moncy is gone, and home T've none, Tl linger not in this world alone. Y'm gay and gloomy by turns to-night, And utter thonghts thut are far from fight! The **silver lining behind the clond ™ May mesn for me but o snow-white shrond; ‘And the **darkest hour befare the dawn ™ ¥y asher me into cternal morn! But the way s lone, and dark, and drear, And Heaven sccms very far from here. "Tis sad to feel that fricnds are few, And love us most when skies are bluc! But those who stand the flery test. The Good Kook saith, God lovetk best, o The Romans in Britain, ZLondon Times. Gen. Vaughan delivered yesterday, at the Roval United Service Institution, a lecture ¢ On the Military Oceupation.of Britain by.the Ro- mans,” Sir Harry Verncy in the chair. After giving a brief account of the two invasions of Britain by Julius Cmxsar, he described the mora - serious and permanent invasion of the country in the middle of the first century, and of the campaigns of Agricola in the North of England and Scotland, which completed the Roman conquest of, the Island. He' then passed in_review the troops engaged in protracted military operations—namely, the Second, Sixth, Ninth,” Fourtcenth, and cotieth Legions, each ~ with fts auxiliaries attached.” He inted out lLow it was the policy of tome to husband the mational . troops: and to win {ts battles, wherever possible, with its auxiliarfes. i, in garrison the auxiliary troops, drawn as they were from the population of the various conquered provinces, were always 50 distributed that not only was their Servie cast in parts of the Empire furthest removed from their own homes, but that two bat- talions of the same nationality were never quar- tered together. He stated that at least three of the five legions which took part in the conquest remained in Britain for the whole %30 years dur- ing which the occupation lasted. Had, then, the Romans no system of perfodical relfef of the troops on foreiyn service? Did they never, like our own troops, after s tour of fureign service, enjoy a tour of home service? Apparently not. ‘The troops in Britain, for instance, form an ex- ample of a purcly local service, such as, until a few years ago, we maintained in India, and which many think we should never have dispensed with'and should even now do Well to revert to, In point of economy the country would certain- ly Zain by such a course, and probably without any sacrifice of efficiency, and sucha service might be made to offer such advantages and inducements as would insure its popularity, and an adequate supply_of voluntary recruits. Such civilization as the” Romans conld offer, the lecturer remarked, was only too readily aceepted by the Britons, and the gocial and domestic habits of Roman life were not long in being gen- erally adopted. Afarrfages became frequent between the two races. The British youth soon lost the peculfar martial acquirements which had extorted the unwilling admiration of Caxsar, and, accepting service inthe leglons, fousht the battles of the Empire fn_ the distant lands to which they were draughted. In the meantime the Romunis_perfected’a magnificent system of military roads throughout the island, and main- tained their hold of the cuuulr{mby the fortifica- tion of London a8 the metropolis, and of some fifty other walled_towns, the suburbs of which, spreading into villas and country ref exhibited on a sm: scale the (catures of the cpital.