The Cedarville Herald, Volume 11, Numbers 22-52
0 ONE would e'T o r h a v e .known a n y thing about it but for Keziah. She bad to tell of it, of course. There are some people who nev-- or can keep any ,thing to* them selves; and Ke- • ziab is. one of -them. ' She washes fo r ua every Mond ay > and Shetakes agreat our family con- u N. deal more interest in corns* than l like.' She gives mother, advice abcrnt me, too, and of course don’t like tfiat . . Lulu Fenwick says »lie wouldn’t stand ‘it, hut Td like to know how. she’d man age Keziah. She couldn't .even keep her from telling abpat-that day we ran; away. You see, Lulu and I- always have thought wo wore not treated the way - we ought to he, , Our mothers are so . hard on us, pulu has to do ail the cham ber work and help waBh the breakfast dishes at her house,. and I ain general ' maid-of-all-work at ours. But I attend to the baby most of the time, and when I' tell mother 1 want some recreation, she-says I can weed out the flowerbeds or go to the store on an errand, * ,*.s I f our baby was like some babies have seen, and: would take naps real often, I wouldn’t mihdnnrfnuch having to see to him; but he keeps/awake" all day long as a general, thing, and he never is satisfied unless 1 am hunting butterflies for him, or rolling him around in a little cart Tom Briggs that’s Keziah’s hoy—mado for him; But T wouldn’t have.mado up ray mind to run away, just .because of the baby. It was bocause mother and Mrs, Fenwick wbifKln’t let Lulu and me go to an exhibition of wax-works at Bronx- flold. Every body wha had been to it said It was just grand, and, of course, Lulu and 1 were wild to go.. Wo' wonted to drive, hut we would have mlkid sooner than not go, for it was only six miles. It was no use. to tease, fur Mrs. Fen wick and mother• both said they wouldn’t afford it. They wouldn’t let i$.go atone, and it Would cost three dollars to hire a- team, and there,was the admission foe of fifty cents to pay, ■ ,tOO* £. , ‘ Lulu cried, and so did I, but itdidn’t do any good. And so we decided to run away. ' Lulu Said she had just been ' reading In a newspaper about' a. girl who. had a mother who abused her, and .she ran away;1*and » kind.old gentleman who dived in grand style adopted-her, and when be died left her all his money. She said she know there must be lots and lots of people who wouW be glad to adopt ns if they’only knew about us, and that we oouW look forsomeold peo ple living in the country, without chil- 1. * n il CUHHXD x onAssr ksovu drsn," and awful lonely. She said there were plenty of ’em, if we only know where to find’em, * We talked it all over one night at our gate,, and"we decided that I f we were ever going, the sooner we went th"e bet ter it WOntd be, for We might njlss some, goodChance of being adopted. ■ So we left the very next morning. We each took a tin pail, so people would think wn were going Wackberrylngi hut in the pails were .the things we wanted to taka with Its. Mother‘ was upstairs with the baby when Xleft, and Keziah was out in the yard under the cherry tree, washing blankets, “Tell mother I've gone down in the . pasture, Kedah,” 1said. “ You’d best tell her yourself,?’ said Keatah. “ You know she wouldn’t let you go Oil this way, and not a stroke of work done in the house yet, And you won’t find no blackberries. There’s been Bromfield people pickin’ in them pasture*, and they’ ve cleaned out every blackharry they could lay their fingers on. You're jest tryin’ to shirk onto* aftl .............. thebaby, and it's asbsmad you ought to be of yourself, too, and your roa so deliklt.”. Of course I felt llko answenng hack; but I didn’t. She couldn't know that she was looking on my face for the last time, and I feit sure she wpuldjja sorry, for her harsh words when I was gone, and she realized, asday afterd^y passed; and I was mourned perhaps for dead, that she would never see me again, Be sides, I fe lt,sorry for her because she used suoh poor grammar. I found Lulu down in the pasture sif ting on an old stump. She looked dread- fully serious. _ “ It was harder to cpmo away than I thought It would bo,” shesaid. ‘‘I wish 1hadn't been obliged to do it.” . ,, “Well, wo were obliged, and thatia all there is about it,” I said. “ Things woro gotting worse all the time. ‘ The idea of dur not going to the wax-works exhibition! It was mortifying. Every body 1met asked mo if I ’d been, and I didn’t know what excuse to make.” ; We climbed a-grassy .knoll, as .they say, in stories, and-.stood there, looking our last on our homos. That is, w# thought it-.was -our ■ last, and of course we couldn't look'into the future and see what really happened. „. ' ■/ “ I amglad I did up all the ohamher- work before I left,” said Lulu. “Mother can’t reprpach mo for, anything.” • “ They’il appreciate us when v?o aro gone,” I answered. “Now they tako all our sacrifices as a matter of course,- and, without compunction, work ' us like slaves.” ' ' ’ ' o Lulu said I talked just like a heroine in a novel. That is-tho secret of my in fluence over (hor—she thinks I know so much more than most girls of my ago. And I suppose 1do. We didn’t, dare go on the main road; so we struck fpr the woods and walked into the tMck of U before we. stopped. Then we turned around throe, times,, with our eyes shut, andsaid some magic words I made up expressly. Qr ^ “ This, is-tho-way,—Lsaidr-poiniing-to. my right. . .■ — And wo walked off without thealight- cst idea where woworo going. ! ‘ We talked about the Jutureat first, wondering how soon we' would come to ’somo palatial irosidonce, and, on what sort of beds wo would sleep that night , “ Wo mukt get outof these woods, or we’ll have to sleep right here on the roots,” Haid Lulu, at last “We" won’t find any palatial residences, in this wood. 1 wont through roost of it when Tom Briggs took mo' nutting lust fall.” “ People say it is twenty miles long,” I answered; “ and there's no telling what we’ll find when wo .come to tho end of thht twenty' miles. Wo must push right on.” ' jj. ,« . So we kept going, but presently Lijju said she was huftpyy, and then we found put that neither of us had thought to bring’any thing to oat. , , . Of course there wails- no uaenworrying over it; wo simply had to onduro it; but we got hungrier and hungrier the fur ther wo went “We must have-gono at least twenty miles,’' Lulu said, at last "and I ’m so tired- out I can’t go any further. ” Well, if hadn't known how. to talk to her; she would have sat right down who.ro . she was, and starved to death, for all I know. v But 1 kept my presence of mind, and told her she must go on Whether she wanted to or not: that sitting down wps not to-thoUght of for a moment Then she.began to talk about home, and to wondor what her little sister Eva was doing,' and if Bennie had cried after her. And I saw* she Was beginning to feel sorry she had le ft “ I don't believe I like running away, after all,” she said,.tearfully; “ and If you’ll just tell me where we're going to ghV Anna-tjophla, I’d be' to you. ' Jt was a house at last we felt sure. We were so tired we couldn’t go any faster, and it seemed'an hour before wo stepped out at last into a little clearing, in tho middle ot which stood a sraaH cabin, covered*vvlth morning-glory and wandering Indian vine. : Tho'door was open, and there was a woman sitting with her back to it, at a table. There seemed to mo something familiar about the place, but I was too tired to pay.any attention- to it, and we just staggered in. <. J“ Please can we sleep here to-night?” Tasked. “ Wo have walked all tho .way from Bondylllo, and are worn opt,", ; The woman turned sharp around, and the light of tpe candle fell full on her face!- It mat Keziah. , "Good land,” she exclaimed, "if iit ain’t Apna Sophia! A ll.tho way from Bondville, he ye? Well, that ain’ t hut half a mllb off,” and she hurstbut laugh" ■ing. ‘ I told hetil didn’t,think there was any thing to laugh at, pud presently she stopped. . ; ’ .. . * * , . /• ‘“ You’ve beep off on some foolishness Anna Sophia,” she said, “ Runnin* away, I guess. Well, I reckon you’ve had enough of it, by the looks of you. Got turned round ip-the woods, I s’.poso/ and like as not been walkin' in a circle. Well, I never’ seen the heat! And you- ohose'a poor day for. your fun, too, for ,'t like'" her tone at all, but I my temper—for I am glad to say that 1have it under good control—and .1 told her that wo were at least fifteen "or eighteen miles fhjm home,. I felt sure, and if wo pushed op bravely we'd come to a house soon; then couldn’t be any doubt about- that. . Ltiiti caH it wa'i vo;y well total!; about pushing on, bat her •feet were sore, and she’d tom her dross, and it was nearly dark’, and she was afraid of boars and snakes; and if sho was killed lit those woods it wptild be all my fault,- tat I'd been tho one to propose running away. - I siftd shef might blame It on-me if she liked, but that sho had been the one who had put the idea into my head ■ first, with her stories of rich old gentle men adopting girls and leaving them money. ,Vy feot were sore, too, and my dress was torn, but { wasn’t going to cry about it. Lulu whs a lifltlo ashamed of hcwtelf' thon and wo got along very well for awhile, but tho woods began togrow dark and the- owls and the whip-poOr^. wills begin to screech, and every story had ever heard about snakes and bears and wildcats came into my mind. If We lay down to sleep I wpsAure wild cats would c.otoo and kill us, It grow so dark after a time that we couldn't setTour hands before our faces, and wo bung on to .each other in deadly.; terror,' Every time Lulu stepped on a root she screamed out. thltiklhg it' was'a i spake, and ofice a -bat flew, right into ' :Iter face. But we didn't dare sit down, and’ though I was beginning to think we would hdt4 to stop soon, We kept Strug gling on. * AU at once we saw a light ahead of w». Yea, it waa really a light, andWhat we felt when we realized that you can perhaps imagine. your Undo, Solomon over to .Bromport came bjr in a waggin and took your ma an’ Miss Fenwick and Eva and Benjy all over to Bromfield to soe them "wax Aggers. Your nift had ino run to tho pasture to see if you was there, hut I didn’t seo no sign,.of you, so off thoy went. Your Uncle Solomon was gain’ to treaty and they laid out to stay to some goiu’s-dfi this evenlnV I reckon they ain’t come back yet " • 1thought right off that there was a chance for us. to got home and go to bed, and no one but Keziah need ever know wp had been gone all day. So 1 asked her if sho wouldn't pleaso keep it to herself that we'd run away. ,-^iho wouldp’t promise, and so I told hor I would leave it to her good nature, and sense of justice, and she said that sounded just like me, and she'd think it over and .try to discover what I was driving at, ° , Then'we went home, Keziah going ahead with a lantern; and tho minute I had got something to eat, 1wont to bed. And I was never ,so tired in all my life. Mothercame homo about half anhour later, and she camo up In the dark to. see mo and to tell me howsorry she was that Lulu and I bad, missed Uncle Solomon’s treat, and that she’ hadn't been abld to keep mo out' of her hilnd all day. , ' Then she kissed me and went down stairs, and I did hopo Keziah wouldn't tell.. „ But she did, Sbo’WM in the kitchen when,I wont down td breakfast the next morning, and luaw by the way mother looked at mo that she knew all aboutit. She didn't say wny.ihlng, however, and 1 was thankful for that; but I think she felt that 1had been punished c ::ou ", for 1wee r.ostiff, and my feet werepo sore.I could hardly get around, \ l t it had/only stopped with telling motbWLj vyoujdn't have cared ' very muetesbnt it didn’t; Keziah wasn’t satisfied until every body imBondvllle knew that Lulu and I had run away, and the questions people asked -us were perfectly dread ful. - Lulu and I Were the only ones who" didn't see/sny joke in tho matter, It-sdeins a pity we made such a fail ure of that day; but, as Mrs. FenWick. told Lulu, I think*we learned a lesson, fpr we haven’t talked an£ since about leaving home, and Luludoesn’t toll any more stories about rich pld gentlemen liking teradopt girls just llko uS.—Flor ence II. Ilallowell, In Golden Days. ALABAMA C LAY -EA TER S . A Queer Oominnsltg Found Among tU f Bugged Hills or Marlon County, A correspondent of the lTttsburgb Dispatch writes from Birmingham, in Alabama: “Among the rugged bills *of Marion County, in the extreme north western portion of .Alabkmp, live about. 300white families whoso principal food is white clay. When Western Alabama was first Bettled by the whites, 18d0-35, their ancestors capae from tho hills of North Georgia and^South Carolina. The clayveaton’ by .them is a pale white in oblor, very soft and is found in large 1 quantities in various portions of Yir-t glbla, North Carolina, Georgia, Tennes see and Alabama, Recently It'has been largely usedln^the adulteration of bak ing poWdors, cream of tartar* and even flour. It has just a faint taste of mag nesia, and is by no means unpleasant even, to a, novice. When first taken from the bank or bed' of the stream where it is found jit has an oily appear ance, but this disappears.when itisAfy^ The.clay-daters ro ll' it intoTUttle bails; * which can he carried in. the ppoket, and whon thby'-are ready to eat it, water is poured over it until it is wpt and soft again. It is nevereaten dry, for in that Btatoit is easily broken into .a very f-no powder or dust, ..which would fill tho throat and lungs. ■ “* ‘.‘The home of tho clay-efiter is a log hut, containing’ only one room, and no matter how large h'is family may he, they all eat and sleep in the same room; Around the cabin there is a little clear-'' ing, where a-patch.of corn and ono of potatoes are cultivated, and most pf them have a small garden, wlioro they raise a few beans and cabbage, A few of them own horses,,but the majority have only oxen "te'fXtTie" furm-work HOUSEHOLD BREVITIES, . f Catsup.—Gne quart ot sour They, sometimes raiso fair crops of corn, as. the soli is very fertile, and little cultivation, is needed.. There is no mar-, ket for the corn except at the nearest illicit' distillery’,; where it is. converted into—‘mountain dew’ or moonshine whisky. Hogs are owhed by a few of them, but they are small and of inferior breed, For meat thoy depend on kill ing wild game,Aeor, turkeys and squir rels* which are found in largo numbers among the hills. “ It is twenty 'miles from the' hills whore the olay-eaters livo to tho nearest country town, and almost twico that PLKA8K CAN VB StEEP HRBE TO-IflOHT? you hadn’t been gone half ah hour whent<Usfcmc« to the nearest railroad. Very v cle l . n few'Of them ever saw a train, and .they An Astonished Surgeon. The astonished surgeon ' explained: “ My good man, I am here to save your life.” “ That’# just It!” shrieked the wound ed man; “ Fvo boen paying premiums to an accident insurance company for fif teen years, and now, when my estate has-aJair chance of getting enough to pay all toy debts, you want to rob my creditors of it. Get Sway, or I’ll break every bone in your body,”—The Jury. Ci A Walking Dictionary. Norman—Budge, what is an Obstacle? Budge -Oh, that’s an easy word. An obstacle Is *-*wcllT it’s something or other you rim against in the dark and, skin ypur nose.—Harper’s Young Peo ple. t Ithow absolutely* nothing of inod- orn Inventions,' .such as sowing- machines ’and cooking ^stoves. None of them can read' or write, and thore is no such thing as a school-house in their-sort-lemcnt. 'Fifteen miles from the neighborhood of the clay-eater tliore is a’ country store ,1f where they barter , 'cggs,\ -chickens, moonshine whisky, deer' and coon-skins for cofie’o, powder and shot., ■ j ’ . • ‘‘‘The ciay-eatora- have some pociiliar custom and superstitions. They have sigfls for every thing, and almost wor ship the moon. The average clay-eaters has.amortal dread of an owl. As soon as tho hoot Of hn owl is hoard, a chair, is overturned., If the hooting ceases, it is a sign that the threatening, danger has been warded* off: but if it continues, there is-weoping'and wailing. In every •fire-plnco will be found a piece of „.int rock, This la supposed to keep foxes and owls from catching the chickens. I f ‘.hey start on a journoy, no matter ’where, and a rabbit is soen to cross their path, t)io journey is at oiico abandoned, becauso a rabbit nover runs directly acrcss a man’s path except to warn him of death. Like', the negroes of the South, they are all firm believers in.tho maglo power of the left hind foot of. the graveyard rabbit. To sweep trash out doors would sweep somo ono out of the family.” ' ■ '___ • . B e P n G ^B E S T •MAN.”' The -Worry and Kraponalbtllty ot It Made One VonnxManSick. It is no small undertaking to bo best man -at a wedding, writes Hepburn Johns in tho Pittsburgh Dispatch. The awful' responsibilities of the groom usually fill,the minds of the. spectators, and tbe besfrnan’s trials are rather lost sight of. Gtlil, important os the chief male assistant's duties ate, thcytfco not really so formidable as they seemed to an 'Allegheny man who recently was called upon, to fulfill them. This young man was asked by an old friend, to stand up with himwhen he en tered the solemn estate of matrimony, "Ho consented willingly! He is of a nervous temperament, And a number of his friends, for a joke, resolved to give him a fright. So they wont to him one by.pno and impressed Upon him that being best man carried with it no small obligations. He would have tofWear a new dress suit,* thoy told -him, and a new hat%new shoes, a new tie andso on. Besides, hVwould have to give thebrido an expensive present, and contribute liberally to the groom’s expenses. Ono particularly solicitous friend was kind eaoughClo figure out exactly how much his performance at the wedding would cost him. The sum total, by his ficti tious flg&rlpg, was 9180. Now to ayoung manona small salary, as the hest-m«n-to-be was, 918Qwas ho joke. Being, as I hare said, of a nerv ous temperament, the obligation of ?spehding a sumSo far beyondhis means affected him powerfully. He could not think of hacking out, yet how to scrap# together.the money to do “ tho thing well” he hadn't an-idea. Ho worried himself sick about it, actually sick, and,, to cut a long story short, when the wed ding day came the young man who should have been bestman lay seriously ill in bed In a hospital. ;■ And) this Is strictly true. The joke was carried muoh too far, . —Chcrrj cherry juice, ono pound of sugar, two teaapoonfuls of cloves, two of cinnamon and a very little cayenne pepper, Boil until thick, bottle and seal. - .-t —Carrot Chops.—Mash ‘finely some boiled carrots with ‘butter!, pepper and ‘ salt; add a beaten egg and mix well; shapewith the hands like a’ohbp; dip in an egg and bread crumbs and, fry browu ip butter; serve with gravy, or melted butter. ' * —When cutting broad for'the table, . save all the crumbs., which in tho cmfrsS of a year, amount to considerable, and are useful for stuffing,-, puddings, etc. You can put a handful into your rjee puddings ‘occasionally, and no oae be" any the wiser- •' ’ , , —Some persons like strawberriesjug- . arej^ and Set away on ice a little, while before serving, and when they are not very ripe or a little' tart it is agoodway; but they do not look so pretty, and, un less all the family llke.it so,, it is better to.letieaeh oriq add creaip and’sugar ao,„'. cording to tastej—Dembresii “—For a summer^sittlng-room nothing' ■ can be cleaner, sweeter, or more whole- - some in every way. than furnishings of rattan or willow ware. Tables, chairs, and a variety of other articles, suoh as work-tables and baskets, as well as *' bureaus and escritoires, can be found in this waro In. the shops'of our prominent dealers.—Christian at Work. —Lot a person, not overstrung, sub-- v. joofc to frequent colds from the slightest ' oxposure, the viotinrof chronic catarrh, • Boro t)irouts, etc., begin the practice of taking a sponge bath every morning, commencingwith tepid watorin a warm room {not hot),.snd following the spong* Ing with fr'utioh (hat Will prodtioo a warm glow over the gjjin, and then take . a flvo minutes brisk walk in the Ojien - air.—-The Household. „ * . . .^ . -Pie-plant Pudding.— Slice an for pies, sproad slices of bread -on bothr sides, with buttor, remove tho crust. Put a layer of bread in the bottom- of a pudding dish, .then’a layer of plo-plftnt, abundantly sw'ootencd, a few hits Of butter and a very slight sprinkling of * flour. . Fill the dish with nltemnta lay* ers of p'.c-plant and bread, cover while baking, Aftor thirty minuses remove cover and brown the top,’ Servo wi.th a "sweet sauce.—ThwHousekeeper. “-rBroilod Steak with Mushrooms.— Broil your steak over a -ploar" flre, , Be* . fore you put it on, open a can of mush rooms, take out half of them, and cut, each mushrooimin two.: Saute them in a frying-pan with a little butter, unless FAR you-havo a cup of bouillon or olear beef ravy.at hahd. Xot them' sim- :soup or g ravy-, merin this for ten minutes,-and when »you °dish your steak! pour gravy and mushrooms over it. Leave it covered ' in the oven five minutes before sending to table.—Harper’s Bazar. >(. SAVE THE SCRAPS, W 1J1 ilo w to Vo KconninlcHl In FVaoMeaf as W «Il as in Tlico'rjr. * There are a!great many persons Who are economical enough In theory but Who waste a great deal in practice.. It requires patience to separate the bits of fat from a cold roast, to try them out and lay them aside for use In tho store room. For this reason many house keepers throw away the remnants- of a roast after it has been served up twico.. A woman who will sewIndustriously for many hours to save' paying a seamstress half a day’s work will * sometimes thoughtlessly throw away more than the equivalent of the seamstress’ wages in these scraps. ’ Tho fat of beef nicely tried out is equivalent to buttor and equally valuable for frying. Try the experiment of saving every scrap of beef, veal and chicken fat, strain and it weigh it, and- its value will be a.cause of genuine astonishment if you° have never undertaken the* experiment be fore. Save every scrap qf mutton and other strong-flavored fats and.try them out for soap. I t takes only a few moments. to>preparo good home-made . soft.soap, and the saving from this source alone will be found nearly equal to tho saving of butter from making use of the scraps of fat suitable for cooking. No scrap of meat or vegetables should ever be wasted. Bits of meat, however inconsiderable in quantity, can be com bined with somo other, put in ah omel ette, mado into croquettes by addition of rice or some othermeat and re-served in many ways that will leave no hint that it has previously appeared, for, -per haps n third time. I t is a little more dlificult^to know what to do with vege tables that are left over; The most-ap petisingmethod o f disposing of juch as can be used in this way is in % salad. Spinach, string beans, beets, bits of turnip a id potatoes can be used in this way. The next method fa an omelette. Cold aspa'ragus. peas,' bits of fried,egg plant, oyster plant and other vegetables atd delicious served in. this way. Most mashed vegetables, like parsnips or mashed potatoes, aro, delightful served In balls. In proparing all rechauffes it 'should be remembered that the food la already cooked, and any further Contin uation Of tho cooking will Impair 'its . flavor. I t should therefore bo heated to the point of cooking, but hot beyond it. “ A little boiling-hot Sauce is a great' advantage to these dishes where it can be suitably used. SWamlrig Is one of.- the best ways of Mating food which Is re-served, Not one,crumb of bread in a household no£<l be wasted. Each week after baklalr, *11 stale bread should be collected, dried and sifted to serve for breading meats, for croquettes, pudding, staffing to fowl,-or many otbor dishes,** B. Y. Tribune. jtjjequ ■Gazette, • . from And and into, jwodubtic. found esj, -at the fi'“ which, tb not be ch -organizat the. St Th IBeommit and det< toward ci the grea- then foot The oute< ing of ur /Panl .ln J Report recently i president Kansas < crease in of cattle, cent.; sb cent, about 24 1 ' inaugural and fatte though*/) later 'em wit^ An with fires results." sww ftiw • “ The n thMIVHI gratlifyini winter be waxmade wassoon ties last v • thinfiAve— additiona erected tc 40,000are seems pre befedthi Stock Yai they mai Probably ment whi you in tb- that shoe; inate priv.^ cago Stoc' and fatte) 'cago for days over have beet, formed th S0,000she Minnespti winter am, market."■ ’ Now, ivi !# , of the cor *,Wassbippi X-TgrQwinga' , . that sheoj - the range Paul,.and were then, the Gaze ■ reached ar • that* som< permittlm price of m thOBO wh< wisdom o growing v more enco fair pore sbaapd in floqk^vi(ni th em is., equSliy oi agemont has an ey< yet be del -of turnin; , between 1 that is so .restore sb .position o larlty. Tel M i. Wil •ends to ■’ Bhc’thh •v **WJl* M il’ employs l while A t ■feet lot g, horse, Is k ‘horse; tine between •file, and T fettlf *ope, oi dadraw ■theher , than th with fir head 8 te jum; ^ _. 'Tn* ma hi* belie, •bade in t Base any t shade ahi d*y barebi JuddFart M a .**! a grains ••ttottnlll j "i , t I ' t ■ ai i it 'd -■ t i fl it vi . *t X Qi •ai ia ot '1! d ot ill fd u tS ul tel .ti >1 ptl e. * i isi f ' I be id ts th hi :e 1 b L . i *i v-
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