New Britain Herald Newspaper, August 9, 1921, Page 4

'HOLDING A HUSBAND | Adele Garrison’s New Phase of Revelations of a Wife ~Why Madge Was Certain of Just What Dicky Wished For a long minutes after 1 had asked “Why?" in answer to Dicky's assertion that Grace Draper was out _of the question as a medal for Pen- . nington’s book illustration’s mg hus- band stared at me as if I suddeniy had gone out of my mind. Then he took me by the shoulder and griped it Itightly. “What do you mean?" he asked ¥ “hoarsely, and I saw that the possibili- { ties of regaining his apparently lost $ . prestize which my query opened fo & him had shaken him. £ “Smply this,” I returned quietly, % ‘“Marsden says that Pennington's idea of his heroine was based consciously 2 or unconsciously upon the illustrations of ‘Day Dream,’ posed by Grace Draper. dissatisfied, not with your work on his new book but by your conception of his heroine, for i which another and less competent & model posed. If you did the drawings I over with Grace Draper as a model, 4§ don’t you think he might he satisfied " “There’s no doubt about it,” Dicky answered promptly. “But—" “Please don't interrupt me,” I said, { with a smile But never in my life have | I forced smile and gay banter with “, S0 much effort. My heart was as lead ¥ Within me at Dicky’s prompt admis- " “sion. I had hoped, somehow, that ne would answer my question in the neg- cative. “I asked you a question just now which you have not answered,” T ' went on evenly. “You said that Grace . Draper was out of the question, andj *‘I asked you ‘Why?' I repeat it now. Why do you consider her out of the question ?” He looked at me oddly. “You ought to know my chief rea- gon,” he said. 1 waited a long minute before plying, for I wanted to be sure . Voice was steady. “¥ou mean, I suppose, | think it would hurt me to A posing for you again?” “Suppose We—Speak—Plainly- “I mean that it wouldn't be fair ‘you, whether it hurt you or not!" he exclaimed. You've had trouble €nough with her as it is, although I do believe the girl was sincere in that lecer she wrote you when we were down South. No, my ‘dear, we'll iet gleepmg dogs lie, with apologies to ! the lady for the comparison.’ . His tone and words were decisive enought to deceive any one less versed -t his moods than I. But I was sure | that I'detected a note of cheerfulness re- my that have you her 0 in his voice which had not been there before, and I judged 'that he was counting subconsciously, of course, on my combating his decision. “We'l do nothing of the kind,” I said firmly, with the mental reflection that he was indeed mistaken in his comparison. “Sleeping leopard” were the words I would have .used, with doubts as to the truth of the adjec- tive. “What nonsense to neglect any chance of placating Pennington when his work means so much. And please let me be the judge of what is fair to me and what isn't. Suppose we— speak—plainly—" I felt a painful flush creeping into my face. “I—I—am— not— afraid— to —have — her — pose —for—you, if that is what you mean. I—I—do—not—believe—she—could: win—you—away—from—me."” A Secret Anxiety Dicky laughed, but there was a tender, remorseful note in the laugh- ter. “No, you can bet your last dollar o nthat,” he said, drawing me to him in a quick, passionate embrace. “Nor could any other woman,” he added, with such certainty in his tones that I felt the tension around my heart loosen a bit for the first time since I had read Marsden’s letter. “But let’s not talk about impossibilities any more. We don’t even know where she it, and if we did, I couldn’t have her vose for meé with -Lil and your father and Faith—Grantland on the - job. They probably know every step she's taking.’ Nothing so .indicated to me Dicky's secret anxiety to secure the girl for a model as his stumbling reference to Hugh Grantland. He inadvertently had begun the sneering cognomen, “Faith- ful Fido,” but had ‘changed it swittly. That he wished to take no chance of angering me was patent, and my heart, warmed by the assurancé he had just given me, chilled again at this evi- dence of his ability to b epolite when he wished, even to the extent of sup- pressing his sneers against Hugh Grantland. “He must be extraordinarily anxious to keep me in the mood for sacrifice,” I thought bitterly. Then, woman-like, I jumped to the more pleasant con- clusion that his courtesy and sense of justice had triumphed over his dislike for the army officer. ‘He, mio doubt, had been ashamed to sneer at High Grantland in his usual manner when I had just evinced my willingness to forgive and forget the great and the many injuries Grace Draper had done Unless otherwise noied, these notices are written by the presa- bureaus of the theater- or attractions with which they el 5 3 \GRIFFITH'S “LOVE FLOWE 15 R” AT PALACE ' The master screen craftsman, Davi IWark Griffith, producer of the screen's {greatest sensations, creator of the 5 most advanced innovations in motion ‘picture productions, finder and de- veloper of the world's greatest screen stars, has produced another wonder- iful production, “The Love Flower," Which is heralded everywher gkiq ng Which is being heralded everywhere (88 a creation of exquisite beauty, \“baunting charm and spirited drama. | United Artists Corporation recently Bnnounced its release and the first wing of this newest Grifith pro- in this community will be at Palace theater on Monday, Tues- v and Wednesday. Among the players in this unusual- dramatic love story of the South Islands are none other than Rich- Barthelmess, - Carol Dempster, orge MacQuarrie, Anders Randolph, -ence Short, Crawford Kent, olphe Lestina, William James and %k Manninc .The one most important thing in easting is the securing of players {Whose facial expressions can possibly _ empbhasize the chara of the PALACE NOW PLAYING D. W. GRIFFITH PRESENTS Richard Barthelmess —in— ‘The Love Flower’ A Romance of the South Seas KEITH VAUDEVILLE Featuring THE ROZELLAS A MUSICAL SURPRI n 5 parts. No one 'in the entire . motion picture field could have been better for the part of Bruce Sanders, a wealthy young plantdtion owner, than Mr. Barthelmess,” for his very being just typifies the very thing-that Mr. iffith portrays throughout the en- tire production and with. his world of experience, Mr.- Barthelmess gives the character a particularly intelligent interpretation. i The Keith vaudeville bill is headed by the Rozellas in a clever-musical surprise. € LYCEUM THEATER. “Life’s Darn ‘Funny,’ -the feature attraction which is appearing at the Lyceum for the- first three days of this week is an exceptionally bg story for the present times. Miss Viola Dana, who is starred, certainly did some very clever acting in putting the picture across. Dealing with the underworld and parting with her best fricnds and meeting with very trying experiences, keeps the audience in thrills through the entire.picture. The vaudeville: program is headed by the Dancing Shoes. This new vaude- ville act introduces many new steps that are clever an@ songs that are worth listening to. Joe Madden, the Jazzy Juggler is clever and has some- thing new in the juggling iine. Mae & Kenneth, presented their singing and dacing act which plecased. Ber- nard & Marsh in their sketch did well. The Musical Christies intro- duced some.clever-playing on their instruments. Lee and ‘Henry = weére good and kept everybody laughing until the finish. The last halt of the week the vaudeville program is head- ed by Betty's Back, featuring Betty Booth, late prima donna of Sinbad show. ALIVE OR FRESH KILLED BROILERS AND FOWLS Feed. All Sorts of Fishing Tackle 105 ARCH ST., Tel. 1121-3 — Now Playing — .Viola Dana —in— Vaudeville Featuring DANCING SHOE: Joe, Madden Mae & Kenneth Marsh & Bernard Musical Chri Lee & Henry Thursday, Friday, sé-Tdeay ; “BETTY’S BACK” [ Featuring Betty Booth, prima donna of **Sinbad” late HARTFORD MON. TUES. ‘WED. ALICE JOYCE IN' THE SCARAB RING ‘SWEETHEARTS” A condensed musical comedy in three scenes, retaining all of its elaboratc embellishments in its abbreviated form. o I JACK CAHILL, DON ROMINE i MAN & LYONS | ¥ || ETHEL LEVY TRIO £ NEW BRITAIN BIRD STORE Also the well known Purina Chicken Chowder, Scratch, Chick and Pigeon EW BRITAIN DAILY HERALD “THE DUKE By G. W. OF CHIMNEY BUTTE” . OGDEN The Romance of a Chivalrous Adventurer in the Lawless West. (Copyright, 1920, A. (Continued from Yesterday’'s Herald.) | Jim Wilder, a cowboy who is not too popular on the range, thinking that Jeremiah Lambert, a peddler, who rode into camp on a bicycle, was a green tenderfoot, offered him his own horse, which was somewhat of an outlaw, if he could ride it. Lam- bert, who formerly broke range horses for a living at the Chicago stock vards, rode the animal without diffi- culty, whereupon Wilder, who was unly bluffing, attempted to take back his horse. In the fight which ensued, Lambert is cut, but not seriously, with 2 knife wielded by Wilder. The lat- ter’s ‘knife is taken from him by a cowboy named Spence, Who in turn is shot by Wilder, who flees from camp. Lambert gave chase, returning at dusk leading Wilder’s horse. There was blood on the empty saddle. Lambert, now known as “The Duke of Chimney Butte,”” makes & new rec- ord in the little town by racing his horse against the fyer, overtaking the train long enough to receive a hand- kerchief tossed. .him from the obser- vation platform of the Pullman car. Later he starts out in search of the girl of the handkerchief, in company with a cowboy named. Taterleg. The mer arrive in Glendora, where The Duke expects to find that Miss Vesta Philbrook, whose father had died. a few weeks before is the girl of the handkerchief. They find Miss Vesta is not the girl they are seeking ‘but gre in time to come to her rescue as she is attacked by two strangers. A “Did you see that?” Taterleg start- ed his horse forward in a jump as he spoke, reining up stiffly at Lam- bert’s side. *“Ome of thém fellers pulied his gun on that old nigger— did you see him, Duke?” “Ye-es, I saw him,” said the Duke speculatively. 3 “Knocked "him flat!” Tater] set off in a gallop as he spoke, th€ Duke tight after him, soon ahead of him, old Whetstone a yellow streak across the_mess. It wasn't his quarrel, but nobody could come flashing a gun in the face of a lady when hé was around. The gate at which the two horsemen were disputing the way.with the girl and her old black helper was a hundred yards or more beyond the one at which -Taterleg and the Duke had stopped a little ‘while- before. As-the Duke bent to open this first gate he saw that the girl had dis- moutited and was bending over the old negro, who was lying stretched on the ground. At -the sound of Lambert's ap- proach one of the men leaped into his saddle. The two trespassers sat scowling inside the gate, watching him -closely for the first hostile sign. Vesta Philbrook was trying to help the old negro'to his feet. “These men cut my fence; they're trespassing on me, trying to defy and humilitate me because they know I'm alone!” she said. “Where do you fellers think you're goin’?” he asked; following the speech of the range. “We're goin’ where we started to g0,”_ the man who had dismounted replied,. glaring at Lambert with an insulting sneer. “You'll have to get permission from this lady before you go through here,” Lambert told him calmly. “I've been cuttin’ this purty little fence for ten years, and I'll keep on cuttin’ it and.goin’ through when- ever I feel like it. I don’t have to t no woman’s permission, and no man’s, neither, to go where I want to go, kid.” The man dropped his hand to his revolver as he spoke the last word with a twisting of the lip, a showing of his scorbutic teeth, a sneer that was at once an insult and a goad. The next moment he was straining his arms above his -head as if trying to pull them out of their sockets, and his companion was displaying himself in like manner, Lambert’s gun drawn on them, Taterleg coming in deliber- ately a second or two behind. “Keep them right there,” was the Duke’s caution, jerking his head to Taterleg in the manner of a signal understood. “Pile off,”, Taterleg ordered. They obeyed, wrathful but impo- tent. Taterleg sat by, chewing gum, calm and steady as if the thing had been rehearsed a hundred times. The Duke pointed to theé old negro’s hat. “Pick it up,” he ordered the yoyng- er man; “dust it off and give it to him.” The fellow did as directed, with evil face, for it hurt his high pride, just as the Duke intended it should hurt. Lambert nodded to the man who had knocked the old fellow down with a blow of his heavy revolver. “Dust oft his clothes,” he said. “I'll die before I'll do it!” rancher declared with a curse. ‘“‘Have you got some wire and tools around here handy, Miss Philbrook?” Lambert inquired. “These men are going to do a little fence fixin’ this morning for a change.” It was a remarkable procession for the Bad Lands thaf wet out from the cross-line fence a few minutes later, the two free rangers starting under escort to repair the damage done to a despised fenceman’s barrier. One of them carried a wire-stretcher, the chain of.it wound round his saddle- horn, the other a coil of barbed wire and such tools as were required. Vesta Philbrook stood at the gate and watched them go, reproaching herself for her silence in the pres- ence of tlis man who had come to her assistance with such sure and de- termined hand. ‘“Ananias. do you know who man is?”. she asked. “Law's, Miss Vesta, co’se 1 do. He's that man they call Duke of Chimney Butte—I know that hess he's aridin’; that hoes used to be Jim Wilder’s ole outlaw. That Duke man killed Jim (and took that hoss away from him; || that’s what he done. That was while vou was gope;.you didn’t hear 'hout the that C. McClurg & Co.) “Did you ever hear of him killing anybody else?” “Oh, plenty, plenty,” said the old man with easy generosity. *I bet he’s killed a hun'ed men—maybe mo'n a hun’ed.” “But you don't know,” she said, smiling at the old man’s extravagant recommendation of his hero. ‘I don’ know, but I bet he is,” said he. “Look at ’em!” he chuckled; ‘look at old Nick Ha’'gus and his onery, low-down Imjun blood boy!” CHAPTER V. A Man’s Job. Vesta rode out to meet them as they Were coming back, to make sure of her thanks. She was radiant with gratitude, and at no loss any longer for words to express it. “Why can’t you boys stop here a while and heélp me out?” she asked, saying at last in a burst of hopeful eagerness what had been in her heart to say from the first. She held out her hand to each of them in a pretty way of appeal, turning from one to the other, her gray eyes pleading. “I hate to see a herd like that broken up by thieves, and all of your investment wasted,” said the Duke, thoughtfully, as if considering it deep- ly. “I guess we'll stay and give you a hand,” said the Duke. She pulled her horse up short, and gave him, not a figurative hand, but a warm, a soft and material one, from which she pulled her buckskin glove as if to level all thought or suggestion of a barrier between them. She turned and shook hands with Taterleg, warming him up so with her glowing eyes that he patted her hand a lit- tle before he let it go, in manner truly atriarchal. ” “You're all right, you're all right,” he said. ¢ Once pledged to it, the Duke was anxious to set his hand to the work he saw cut out for him on that big ranch. He led Vesta into a discus- sion of conditions as they stood be- tween her neighbors and herself. “Nick Hargus is one of the most persistent offenders, and we might as well dispose of him first, since you've met the old wretch and know what he’s like on the outside,” she ex- plained. “Hargus was in the -cattte business in a hand-to-mouth way when we came here, and he raised a bigger noise than anybody else about our fences, claiming we’d cut him off from water, which wasn't true. We didn’t cut anybody off from the river. “Hargus is married to an Indian squaw, a little old squat, black-faced thing as mean as a snake. Old Har- gus usually harbors two or three cat- tle thieves, horse thieves or other crooks of that kind, some of them just out of the pen, some preparing their way to it. He does a sort of general rustling business, with this ranch as his main source of sypply. We've had a standing fight on with him ever since we came here, but to- day was th2 first time, as I told you, that he ever was caught.” “Who comes next?’ Lambert quired. “There’s a man they call Walleye Bostian—his regular name is Jesse— on the farther end of this place that's troubled with a case of incurable re- sentment against a barbed-wire fence. He’s a sheepman, one of the last that would do a lawless deed, you'd think, from the look of him, but he’s mean to the roots of his hair. I got a shot at him once that he’ll remember.” The Duke’s face grew a shade more serious. “I hope we can take that kind of work off your hands in the future, Miss Philbrook,” he said, his voice slow and grave. She lifted her grateful eyes with a look of appreciation that seemed to him overpayment for a service pro- posed, rather than done. She went on, then with a description of her in- teresting neighbors. “On the north of us Hargus is the worst, on the south a man named Kerr. Ker- is the biggest single- handed cattleman around here. His one grievance against us is that we shut a creek that he formerly used along inside our fences that forced him to range down to the river for water. As the creek begins and ends on our lands—it empties into the river abou. a mile above here—it's hard for an unbiased mind to grasp Kerr’s poin. of objection. ‘Have you ever taken a shot at him?” the Duke asked, smiling a lit- tle dry smile. “No-0,” said she reflectively, “not at Kerr himsei.. Kerr is what is usually termed a gentleman; that is, he's a man of education and wears his beard cut like a banker’s, but his methods of carrying on a feud are extremely low. Fighting is beneath his dignity, 1 guess; he hires it done. I've had a shot at his men more than once, but there are one or two in that Kerr family I'd like to slinz a gun down on! And his daughter is as /bad as any of them!™ It was strange to hear that gentle- mannered, refined girl talk of fighting as if it wer: the commonest of every- day business. There was no note of boasting, n» color of exaggeration in her manner. She was as natural and sincere as the calm breeze, coming in through the open window, and as wholesome and pure. P in- Lambert’s first business on taking charge of the Philbrook ranch had been to do a piece of fence-cutting on his own account opposite Nick Har- 7ue’ ranch through which he had ridden and driven home thirty head of cattle lately stolen by that enter- prising citizen from Vesta Philbrook’s herd. This act of open-handed restoration, carried out in broad day- light alone, and in the face of Hargus. nis large family of sons, and the skulking refugees from the law who chanced to be hiding there at the time, added greatly to the Duke's fame. This reputation of the Duke fost nothing in the result of his first meet- ing with Berry Kerr, the rancher who wore his beard like a banker and passed as a gentleman. This, meeting lace on the s.uth Hne of the oné day when Lambert had toak tence AUGUST 9, 192 ’l BEST SHOPS SHO By Marion Hale New York, Aug. 9.—You think you are going ‘to look Yike may a traveling bag or a suit case when you hear about the new “feather trim.” But you are not. The smartest shops are showing leather binding and leather trim- mings on the new fall and winter garments. Leather belts don’'t get vou by at all. other ‘“trims.” The coat suit in black cloth with pin stripe of white is a dashing street Leather must be conspicuous in costume that has the alluring touch of youth about it. Bright red leather and steel button give the “dash” to a black and white. The red leather bands trims the original sleeve and are used also on the slightly bloused “coat” of the dress. Bands of the red leather are also used on the pockets in front of the long overhanging side pleats. The belt is made of red leather and cloth. The black hatter’s plush turban suggests a small Napoleonic with its straight, smooth front and softer drape extending in long points at the sides. Leather is often used in intricate dosigns, also, te trim waist and skirt and sleeve on the new street gowns. been on the ranch a little more than a week. Kerr was out looking for strays, he said, although he seemed to overlook the joke that he made in neglecting to state from whose herd. He rode up to the fence, affable as a man who never had an evil intention in his life, and made inquiry concerning Lambert's connection with the ranch. making a pretense of not having heard that Vesta had hired new men. “Well, she needs a couple of good men that will stand by her steady,” he said with all the generosity of one who had her interests close to his heart. “She’s a good girl and she’s been havin’ a hard time of it. But if you want to do her the biggest favor that a man ever did do under cir- cumstances of similar nature, per- suade her to tear this fence out, all around, an throw the range open like it used to be. Then all this fool quarreling and shooting will stop, and everybody here will be on good terms again. That's the best way out of it for her, and will be the best way out of it for you if you' intend to stay here and run this ranch.” “There’ll never be a yard of this fence to¥n down on my advise. Mr. Kerr,” Lambert said.” “You people around here will have to learn to give it a good deal ‘more respect from now on than you have in the past. I'm going to teach this crowd around here to take off their hats when they come to a fence. AI'm afraid you've bit off more than you can chew, much less swal- low, young man,” Kerr said. With that he rode away, knowing that he had failed in what he probably had some hope of accomplishing in his sly and unworthy way. Things went along quietly after that for a few weeks. Hargus did not at- tempt any retaliatory mov on the side of Kerr's ranch all was quiet. But neither Lambert or Taterleg for a moment relaxed the vigilance of their watch and one mid-afternoon, about six weeks after taking charge of affairs on the ranch, the Duke found justification for his belief that Vesta’s enemies were only watching a favorable opportunity to renew their pernicious activities. At the top of a grassy hill he found the fence cut for a hundred yards or more. It was cut at every post mak- ing it impossible to piece. Lambert rode along to see if any cattle had escaped, and drew his breath again with relief when he found that none had passed. There was the track of but one horse; the fence-cutter had been alone, probably not more than an hour ahead of him. The job finished, he had gone boldly in the direction of Kerr's ranch, on whose side the repredation had been committed. Lambert followed the trail some dis- tance. It led on toward Kerr's ranch, defiance in its very boldness. the the night watch along of fence where wire-cutter in his line had been made. Below that point, not more than half a mile he had stopped to boil his breakfast coffee. -'His first discovery on mount- ing the ridge was a panel of fence cut his next a piece of white paper twisted to the end of one of the curl- ing wires. This he disengaged and unfolded. It was a page torn from a medicine memorandum book such as cow- punchers usuvally carry their time in, and the addresses of friends. “Why don’t you come and get me, Mr. Duke?” This was the message it bore. “All right; T'll take you up on that,” Lambert said. (Continued in tomorrow's Herald.) Send 15 c. for Trial Stze FERD. T. HOPKINS & SON York City Gouraud's S ental Cream 'fOri It was early morning after an all- | of the pile. three miles!} worked, when Lambert rode to lhe; top of the ridge where the first breach » DAILY FASHION SERVICE R W SMART LEATHER TRIMMINGS —— A DEEP SECRET. Old Spot wouldn't let Johnnie Green alone. He kept jumping against him and hining, begging him to move some of the wood, because there was something very, very interesting be- neath it. Still Johnnie hesitated. He hadn’t intended to do any work that after- noon. “After all,” ne thought, “I'll have to help carry in this wood sooner or “Whats all this yow about” he gobbled at Old Spot. later. Really, I might as weil lalke some of it into tae woodshed now.” To Spot’'s delight he bent over and began gathering an armful of wood. “Wow! Wow!"” Spot howled. “Thank goodness I'm going to get what’s under this pile, after all.” Johnnie Green carried armful after armful of wood from the yard and piled it in the shed back of the kitchen. All the time old dog Spot was urging him with velps and barks and whines and moans to move faster. And all the time Johnnie Green was working as spryly as he could. Whatever it might be that Spot wanted to get, under the woodpile in the yard, Johnnie hoped it wouldn’t cscape through the crevices between the stichs. “I don’t want to get myself all tired out for nothing,” Johnnie said to himself. *“I was going fishing this afternoon.” While Johnnie hurried back and forth between the woodpile and the shed Spot clawed away at the edge He thrust his nose be- neath loose sticks and pushed them about. He uttered pitiful sounds. “I never saw that dog take on so,” Farmer Green remarked. “And I never saw Johnnie work 50 hard,” said the hired man. “When there’s wood to be carried in he's usually a mile away.” Farmer Green laughed. “He'll quit as soon as Spot gets what he wants,” he replied. “It's too bad this sort of thing doesn’t happen bftener. Except for driving the cows “ome, this is the first time I ever ew a boy and a dog to do much be- s play, when they're together.” Turkey Proudfoot, the huge gob- bler, came hurrying around the cor- ner of the barn to see what was going on. He had an idea that he ruled the farmyard. ‘“What's all this row gobbled at old Spot. something 2" “Yes,” Spot told him. ‘“Johnnie Green’s helping me to find it. We're moving part of the woodpile. “What did you lose?” Proudfoot demanded. Old Spot pretended not him. He began barking Johnnie Green. Mr. Catbird, who loved to play jokes on everybody, started mewing from his hiding place under the lilac bushes. He had noticed Spot's antics. And he hoped to fool him into think- ing_ there was a strange cat around the place. For Spot was a famous chaser of all cats—so long as they kept running away from him and didn’t turn around and try to secratch him. To Mr. Catbird’s astonishment, old Spot paid no heed to his cat-calis “This is queer,” about?” he “Have you lost Turkey to again hear at ~ Mr. Catbird mut- - tered. “Whenever T've mewed be- fore he has always come a-running. Ther: must be something uncommon- ly interesting under that woodpile.” (Copyright 1921 by Metropolitan Newspaper Service.) PEACHES! SERVE THEM “WINTER. _ ry few minutes’ boiling are re- _ iuired for this recipe for peach but- It will keep two vears if put in pint pars and sealed while boiling hot. An amount that is sure to be used 2ring the winter months may be put in jelly glasses and covered with THIS ancy’s Peach Butter. Scald peaches and slip skins. Re- « move stones. Put a very little water in the bottom of the preserving ket- e, add fruit and cook until the ches are tender. Stir to prevent burning. The less water used the vetter the finished product. ° Rub through a wire sieve. Measure fruit nalp and add as many cups of sugar as there are cups of fruit. Put in preserving kettle and stir constantly while cooking. Bring to the boiling point and boil from five to seven' minutes, countinz the time after bub- bling begins. The length of time re- red to cook the butter depends on “he amount of water in which the Leaches were cooked. - Seal while boil- ug in pint jars or put in jelly glasses and cover with paraffin when cold: Do net try to make more than one quart of the butter at a time. Peach Preserves. Scald peaches and slip skins. Re- move stones and clt in slices. Weigh fruit and use three-quarters pound o< sagar to one pound of fruit. Use 1 cup of water to each pound of sugar. Roil sugar and water until the syrup is thick. Drop in peaches and sim- mefSfor fifteen minutes. Put fn pint :ars and seal while boiling hot. Pecach and Pinecapple Marmalade. cven pounds peaches, 1 ripe pine- apble, 2 lemons, 6 pounds sugar. Pare and slice the pineapple. Skin and stone the peaches. Put fruit in preserving kettle with just enough water to prevent burninz. -Bring s'owly to boiling point and simm~r fcr half an hour. Sift in the sugar gradually, not stopping the fruit rouia poiling, add the juice of the lemon and simmer for fifteen minutes. Put into sterilized pont jars and seal while boiling hot. The stones may be cracked and a few of the peach Kernels added with the lemon juice. (Copyright 1921 by Newspaper En- terprise.) Sure Relief For Aching Corns, Callous, ions REDJg TOP CALLOUS Takes out re- duces uweum\‘hee pain, and absorbs hard growths—gives you com- fort from the very start. No acid, mo poison, mo daxger Handy roll 35c. money-back tee. Mailed anywhere by inox Co.. Rutland.Vt. Sold by The Fair Dept. Store, Main St. Dickinson Drug Co., Main St. P4