Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, December 10, 1913, Page 31

— DINNER MENU. Clam Chowder. Green Peas. Stuffed Baked Tomatoes. Peach Pudding. Small Cakes. Coffee. SOceccccccceceesooooesecee LLAMS make a light and nourishing summer food. When the fresh shellfish cannot be procured can- ned ones may be substituted for them. Hot Weather Foods. Clam Salad.—Heat together one pint of cider vinegar, one slice of onion, six whole cloves, a bay leaf, pepper and salt. Place as many little neck clams as are needed in a dish. Pour over them the hot vinegar and let it stand until cool. Then drain the clams and arrange in a nest of crisp lettuce leaves. Garnish with minced hard boil- ed eggs. Clam Mousse.—Take three dozen clams and strain the liquor through a fine sieve. Put the clam juice in a freezer, season witimcelery salt and to every pint of clam juice allow one cupful of whipped cream. Freeze to a soft water ice consistency and serve in bouillon cups. Fried Golden Brown. Clam Fritters——Take two and two- thirds cups Sour, four teaspoons bak- ing powder, one half teaspoon salt, two eggs, one pint clams. Clean the clams and cut them into half inch pieces. Mix together dry ingredients, add egg. well beaten and mixed with clams. Have fat hot enough to brown a bit of bread in one and one-half minutes. Drop mixture by spoonfuls into deep fat, fry until a golden brown and drain on brown paper. A Popular Chowder. Clam Chowder.—Lake one quart clams, four cups potatoes cut into three-fourth cubes, one and one-half inch cuts of fat salt pork. one sliced onion, one tablespoon of salt, one- eighth teaspoon of pepper, four table spoons butter, four cups scalded milk, eight soda crackers. Clean the clams, drain reserve liquor, heat to boiling point and strain. Chop finely hard part of clams, cut pork in small pieces and fry out. Add onion, fry five min- utes and strain into stew pan. Par- boil potatoes five minutes in boiling water to cover, drain and put a layer in bottom of stew pan. Add chopped clams, sprinkle with salt and pepper and dredge with flour, add remaining potatoes, again sprinkle with,salt and pepper, dredge with flour and add two and one-half cups boiling water. Cook ecccccecce s e e e 2 Beef ala Mode. Boiled Potatog. e e e ten minutes, add milk, soft part of clams and butter, boil three minutes and add crackers split and soaked in enough cold milk to moisten. Reheat clam water to boiling point and thick- en with one tablespoon of butter and flour cooked together; add to chowder just before: serving. Aasas Thomesarral, The Parson of Cinnamon Gulch By WILLIAM SINGLETON It was Sunday in the mining camp on Cinnamon gulch, But the day was not being respected as in civilized com- munities. However, word had been received from the Rev. Arthur Dixon that he had been sent out by a society. to start the people on a different course. He was coming among them to remain as long as necessary, which meant to build a place of worship. About 10 o’clock on this Sunday morning a man cam@,up the gulch whose appearance did uot seem to in- dicate that he wap especially fitted for the work in-hanj. His face was red, he wore a stubbje beard, and his ap- parel was by ntj means clerical. In- deed, it was the! ordinary costume of the country—sombrero, flannel shirt and trousers tucked in his boots. Tak- ing a position in the center of the cab- in, he said in a loud voice: “Friends, I have come among you to eject Satan from your midst. The sight 1 see on this Sabbath mornin’ is one to appall the heart. Instead of washin’ up and puttin’ on your best clothes for meetin’, instead of moth- ers brushin’ the children’s hair and puttin’ clean aprons on ’em for Sun- day school, some of you are workin’. some playin’ cards, while the women and children are doin’ whatever they take a notion to do.” The stranger paused, and the miners who had been gathering about him while he was speaking wondered. They had expected a sleek looking, clean shaven gentleman in clerical dress. who would talk to them in a soft, per- suasive voice. This map was rough and uncouth—indeed, nowise superior to themselves, However, it is ques- tionable if this very ruggedness did not incline them to receive him more fa- vorably than one more refined. “Ll reckon,” resumed the newcomer, “that you've been advised of my bein’ sent out to convert this camp. I’m the used to sich as you. You thought you Rev. Arthur Dixon, and ’m purty well blue eyes. The society ain’t that kind of men round to do work, or, rather, the Lord’s work. Them kind is sent to places where there’s been some sort o’ cultivation. “What I’m goin’ to do is tussle with the devil and throw him out, just as when a man’s goin’ to plant he gits rid o’ the stumps and weeds and all that. Them fancy parsons wouldn’t be no good for that. Their work comes in when the seed’s planted and springin’ up. When one o’ them fellers comes yere I goes on to another place where there’s no clearin’.” By this time the whole camp—men. women and children, though there were few women and fewer children—were standing in front of the parson, gaping at him. To one or two who found room in bis rear he said savagely: “You galoots come forward where | kin see you. That’s one o’ Satan’s best dodges—to git in a feller’s rear and take him from behind.” Those addressed came forward. “Now, I want you people to under- stand,” the parson continued, “that the first thing needed in bringin’ about a new deal is that when you get together for purposes 0’ worship you do it with humility. There’s no humility in a six shooter nor in a knife. I want every one of you that has weepons on you to take ’em up there’—pointing to an open space between trees—‘“‘and leave ’em there durin’ these yere religious ceremonies.” The speaker paused, and a number of the men went to the spot he indi- cated and then threw down their weapons. When he was satisfied that all the arms were where he bad order- ed them deposited he said that the first thing to do in the premises was to build some sort of place where they could meet for religious worship. Then he nominated one of the men to pass | around the hat for contributions. SWhile the collection was being taken | up a young man of a different type came into the camp, approaching the parson from the rear. When he caught sight of the speaker he opened his eyes. He was especially interested in his remarks made from time to time exhorting the miners to contribute lib- erally. The collector, having gone the rounds, took the hat to the parson. who emptied the contribution into his pockets, then, drawing a revolver from each boot, covered the assembly. “Stand where you are,” he said, “for I'll put a hole in any one that moves! Any man leavin’ for them weepons won't get more’n a yard!” He began moving away from the congregation, keeping his face toward them, and backed right into the man who had just come upon the scene. Feeling a pair of arms clasping him about his body, he wriggled to get away, but to no purpose. Presently "A DEACONS | WIFE br Guan ~ Copyright, 1913, by Associated Lit- erary Press. Deacon John Goodman was forty- eight years old when he lost his wife. They were a peaceful, good tempered twain and had never had a quarrel. There. were no children, and a sister came to keep house for the deacon. “He'll marry again within a year or two, of course,” was the general opin- ion of the villagers. The deacon didn’t remarry, and after eight years had passed away he was given credit for being one of the few exceptions. He bad just passed bis fifty-sixth birthday when he drove over to Grafton one day with horse and buggy to transact some business. It was a splendid June day, and if anybody had told the deacon that he was going to run into a cyclone within an hour he would have laughed at the prediction. He was yet four miles from Grafton and toiling up a long hill when the cyclone appeared. It had been sitting down on a stone to rest. It was a woman with a bulg- ing satchel. She was about forty-five years old and had a pleasant face. She was asked if sbe didn’t want a lift on her way and was invited to take a seat in the buggy. She didn’t look at all to the deacon like a cyclone on wheels—not then. Both were nat- urally talkative, and inside of ten min- utes they were talking away like old acquaintances. The cyclone was a widow named Pardon. She had been sewing at the house of a farmer. She had a married sister living in Grafton. She had been a widow for five years, and, while life was going very well with her, it was a bit lonesome. Deacon Goodman confessed that it was also a bit lonely for him. Widow Pardon had never considered a second marriage, but if she shouid happen to find the right sort of man it might set her to thinking. “] understand,” replied the deacon as he nodded his head. “Hanner, you can have your liberty purty soon.” : “What d’ye mean by that, John?” “Tm goin’ to get married.” Deacon Goodman was known among men as a “reasonable man.” He could be argued with, and he had often minister and others talked to him, but without avail. He was on hand on the day named. The sister had nothing to say for or against, and it was decided that the marriage should take place in two weeks. [t came off according to schedule, and the deacon took his bride home and was a happy man—for three or four days. Then one morning he suggested that he liked his coffee a lit- tle stronger than the wife was making it, and she whirled on him, threw the utensil at his head and opened such a tornado of abuse that he sat with his mouth open and stared at her in dumb surprise. The good man was still wondering what had broken loose when the wife slapped his face and pulled his hair and ran for the river vowing that she would drown herself. He sprang 1p and followed her, of course, and caught her just as she was going to take the plunge. Ten days later there was a second outbreak. The deacon got abuse, pro- fanity and more vigorous slaps, and again he caught his wife on the bank of the river. In one year there were ten or twelve outbreaks, and, of course, the matter became town talk. The good deacon finally went to his minister about it, and the latter said: “{ have been waiting for three months, Brother Goodman.” “And you can tell me what I should do?” “In a very few words, brother.” “Separate?” “No.” “Get a divorce?” “No.” “But it’s got to end, parson. I can’t stand it any longer.” ‘“I think I have a plan to end it. When do you look for the next out- break?” = “It may come any day now.” The minister whispered in the den- con’s ear for the next ten minutes, and the plan was laid. Three days later there was a dispute over a roller towel, implored. She was under such petus that she went into The river a great splash. There was a man with’ a boat there. but he let her imbibe several gallons of water and sink twies to drown the temper out of her. Chocolate Pie. One pint of milk, one heaping table spoonful of corn starch, yolks of twe eggs, sugar to taste and chocolate te taste. Bananas or cocoanut may be used with this same custard, omitting made of whites of two eggs beaten til stiff; then beat into them four table- spoonfuls of granulated sugar; spread on pie; brown in oven. Oatmeal Cookies. Cream three-fourths of a cupful of butter with one cupful of sugar ami add two well beaten eggs. Sift three fourths of a teaspoonful of soda inte two cupfuls of flour, add one-half a teaspoonful of salt, one teaspoonful o£ cinnamon. Now add to the mixture two cupfuls of uncooked rolled oats and one scant cupful of chopped raising sprinkled with a little flour. Drop by the teaspoonful into a greased pan ané bake in moderate oven. Sour Cream Sauce. When cream is only slightly sour it may be made delicious to serve with puddings, etc., in the following way: Put it into a basin with the juice of a lemon and a tablespoonful of sugar and whip until quite stiff. This treat- ment makes it excellent and increases the quantity at the same time. A Paint Cleaner. Save the tea leaves for a few days, then steep them in a pail for half am hour; strain and use the tea to clean varnished wood. It requires very lit- tle polish, as the tea acts as a strong deterrent, cleaning the paint from af impurities and making it equal to new. Chicken Croquettes. ‘Two pounds of chicken meat chopped or ground fine, two eggs beaten, one slice of bread crumbed, one-half cup- ful of sweet cream, one tablespoonfut of butter, salt and pepper. Make inte balls, dip in eggs, then in cracker crumbs and fry. oe The material for this house was furnished by US The material for this house | was furnished by & +7 U cHAS. ©. GENNETT, MINNEAPOLIS, We carry in stock and give you at you want immediate delivery of enyouwantit | All the time King — LOCATED AT GRAND RAPIDS DEER RIVER KEEWATIN Lumber Lath Shingles Windows CHISHOLM MARBLE BOVEY Doors Mouldings Brick “The Home of Quality” Lime and Cement Building Paper Roofing Fire Brick | Sewer Pipe and Fire Clay Farmers Planning on putting up a Silo should get our prices on the Best, the Simplest, the Cheapest—the Silo of Merit. Lumber Compa rt ideals |