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27:59»? - ,- mpg; wagesâ€"v an - ‘ .ye.g-<y.5.-um- Arafjtiv'fz 350:9}? m y.» V321. via-ewes LADY AYLMER. CHAPTER VIL 1'83 MISTRESS 0' 801.3070. Three days had gone and still Esther Brand had not arrived in London. Each day Dorothy got more and more impatient for her presence, because, although she had never once seen David Stevenson since that morning when she had almost walked into his arms in the Kennington High street, she was so afraid that he might be lurking about the neighborhood that she had never set foot outside her own door. if she had only known that he was safely down at Holroyd, dividing his life between riding hard from one point of the property to another, and sitting moodily staring into the empty fire-grate, his thoughts all busily occupied in cursing at fate 2 However, that phase of feeling did'not last long with him: for one tine September morning he went over to the Hall and wandered round the quiet old gardenâ€"~a good deal of its especial charm of quaint beauty “ini- proved” away nowâ€"where she had spent her happy childhood. “I’ll have that bed done away wuh,” he said to old Isaac, pointing out a small, heat bed cut in the velvet turi, just in front of the dining-room window; “it spoils the look of the lawn; digit up, and we'll have it turfed over.” 01d Isaac looked at him hesitatinglyâ€" the old man had felt bitterly his deg“ d- ation from gardener to odd man, yet tea shillings a week is not to be sneezed at when its almost certain alternative is the the workhouse. He hardly dared to say what was in his mind; still the old feudal instinct, the habit of forty years was strong in him. and he ventured a timid protest. " That were Miss Dorothy’s own bed, sir," he began; “ she dug it herself, and then she’d take a turn round and have an- other spell o’ digging after. And then, in the Spring time, when the wiolets came she was wery proud 0' the fust bunch she took to the mistress." “ H’m," muttered David, and moved away. “ Took it better norI thought he would,” mused old Isaac, rather elated at his own boldness. But Isaac had counted his chickens too early, for later in the day the head gar- dener came round to him. “ By-the~by. Isaac,” he said, after mentioning one or two little matters, “ the governor wants that little lied under the dining-room window levelled and turfed overâ€"wants it done at once.” “ I hear," said Isaac. _ The old man was trembling as he turned away, and when the other was gone, he itood» by the little flowsr bed as if it were a grave looking down upon it with tear- filled eyes. ” Brute l” he ground out be- tween his teeth : “ brute l” “ \Vhat be 1 to (’0 wi’ the wiolets, Bell ‘2” he dsked, the next time he came across his superior. “ Gov’uor said you Was to chuck ’em out on the rubbish heap,” Bell answered. f‘ Nay, I’ll take 'em down to mine,” said Isaac, in a quavering voice. “ As you like about that,” said Bell. all pukuowing of the tumult in‘the old man’s ‘rcast. And the day following that David StcV- ensou ordered his horse and rode away from Holroyd, through Graveleiuh and pastthc old Hall to a large and prosperous looking farm, about a mile beyond the house, where Dorothy‘s old friend, Lady Jane Sturt, lived. He turned in at the gates, and gave his horse into the care of a man who came running out. “ Is Miss Elsie at home ‘3” he asked. ” I believe she is, sir," the man repliel ; “but ifyou'll knock at the door, they’ll tell you for certain." A nice-looking country girl in a neat apron and cup came to the door. Yes Miss Elsie was at home, the mistress had gone into Dovercaurt. “'ould Mr. Stevenson come this way 3 _ He followed her into a rettyenough sit- iiiigeroom, though it had) but few of the little touches which had made Miss Dims- dale's drawing-room so pretty and so restful. There were shades over WllX lowers and a plaster of paris vase contain- ing some artificial orange blossoms which had once adorned the wedding cake of the married daughter of the house, and there were white crochet-work rags over some ‘ 0f the chairs, and others with fearful and wonderful designs in crcwels tied up with bits of guy colored ribbons. was pretty enough, but not bearable to h m l after the quaint and d:giiitied air which had pervaded everything at the Hall where she had lived. In two minutes Elsie Carrington came in, a tall, wholesome-looking girl, with fair hair that was too yellow and cheeks that ware too red, and as David’s eyes fell upon her I am bound to say that his very soul seemed to turnbick within him. Not that he tliiichedâ€"oh. no ; David Stevenson was not of the kind that iiiuches. “I've come on a queer enough errand Elsie," he began. "Yes 2" she said, in a questioning tone. “Yes. llnt it’s no use beating about the bush : it's b.st to be honest and true, is’ut it 2 ' "Of course it is." She was very much flushed and puzzled, too, but asyet she had no idea of his meaning. "You must know as well as I do," he went on, not attempting to go a step near- er to her or to take her hand, “ t: at i’ve cared for Dorothy Strode all my life." "Yes," said the girl. faintly. "Well," standing up very. straight and stiff, and with a face like niarhle, “that‘s all overpow, and I want to get my life settled into shape. Yes, it’ Holroyd wants a mis- ithe color blanched from her cheeks, and iher li parted. “I don’t quite under- i stand, avid,” she said, at last. 1 He drew along breath of impatience. “ Look here, Elsie," he said, “ I am young, rich, decent-looking, and not a bad sort as follows go. But's its no use my coming and offering you the devotion of a lifetime; you wouldn't believe me if I didâ€"you'd say it was a lie, and I don't want to begin by lying to you. But I can ofl'sr you all the rest of my life, and I swear I’ll do my level best to be a good husband to you ; I swear that." Elsie fairly gasped. “You are asking me to marry you, David '.'" she cried. “ Of course I am," he answered. There was a dead silence for a few mo~ ments. David, sore and hurt, desperately anxious to get his future settled so that looking back would be a folly and repining nothing short of a sin, stood waiting for her decision, while Elsie turned away to the window and looked out over the fields, a thousand bitter thoughts chasing each other through her brain. It was all over with Dorothy, and Dorothy bad evidently chosen another, Elsie was sure of that, though David had not said so. And David had turned to her in his troubleâ€"there was comfort in that. But Dorqthy had his love still, she was certain of that. 1 cu could see it in his haggard face, his ner- vous manner; hear it in his defiant voice. Many and many a time she had pictured him Coming wooing to her. She had let her hands full idly in her lap. and her sewing lie neglected, while in fancy she had seen him turning in at the gate or coming in at the door, his mouth half smil- ing (as she had seen it for Dorothy’s-sake), his cold eyes lighted up with a tenderness as door as it was rare; but in all her dreams Elsie had never pictured him com- ing like this, hrggard and drawn for the loss of Dorothy, nervous, brusque, impa- tient, liruta‘ly truthful and just, to ask her to make a bargain, in which love should be left out of the reckoning ! To offer her his body, while she knew his heart was all Dorothy’s! Oh i it was a dreary wuoing,a hard, hard bargain for her to make or l “what do you say '3” “Is Dorothy going to be married ?" she asked, suddenly. . He winced at the question, but he an- swered it readily enough. “ Dorothy is married," he said, steadily. “Oh ll’ and then she gave a great sigh and looked at him with piteons, yearning eyes. “Well ‘2” he said ; “I am waiting." “I don’t know What to say,” she burst out. “No 1 And yet I fancied that you liked me better than the other fellows round abou'." 3 His tone was lialf-bitter,half-reproachful, ;ns if his last hope was leavxng him. The girl was touched by it instantly, and ' turned quickly to him With both her hands outstretched. “Oh, David l” she cried, in a veice of pain, “you know that I have al- ways~alwaysâ€"-likcd youâ€"butâ€"but”~â€"-â€" "But what ?” he asked coldly, and with- out takiiig the outstretched hands. Elsie let them fall to her side again. “You have not said one word about car- ing for me,” she said, in a trembling, timid voice. David began to feel that this wooing, which he had fancied would be so easy, was going to prove more difficult than he had had any idea of. He had believed ul- , ways that he had only to hold up the pros- ‘ pect of being mistress of Holroyd for Elsie l to simply jump at the chance, and here, to l his intense surprise, was Elsie deinurring ' to take liiiiibecanse he had said nothing of ' love. “If I worse. liar,” he said roughly, “ I I should have come and made love to you. I should have pretended that I had been mis- 1 taken in thinking 1 had cared for Dorothy, lishould have sworn I have never loved 1 anyone but you. And by-aiiil-liy you would have found me out, and then we should both be wretched. As it is, I came and told you honestly all that was in my heart, [ Iâ€"Iâ€"askcd you to help me over this bad I time, because I thought you loved me and ' would bear with me because of your love. As it is, never mind, there are plenty of women who will marry me willingly enough, to be the mistress of Holroyd.” “ David !" she cried, as he turned toward the door. He loosed back, his hand still upon the handle. “ Well?” he asked. “ Is it not so '3" In that one moment a dozen thoughts seemed to go crowding through the girl's distracted brainâ€"n vision of Holroyd, I with its rich red gables, its stately avenue 1 of horse-chestnuts,its pretty lodge,its velvet Elawus, and wide-sweeping view across the tgreatsheet'of water running up from the sea : tl:en a vision of Holroyd with astrange l woman as mistress, a vision of that strange woman's children breaking the serene stillness of the placeâ€"ah ! no, she could not lose him for the sake of the one thing wanting which would make her cup of happiness fullâ€"in time that might comeâ€" and even if it not. she would at least be spared the agony of seeing another woman l reigning at Holroyd. No, whatever hap- i pencil in the future. whatever might come l to pass,slie could not run the risk of losing the man she loved. In that brief space of time, the true instinct of feminine dignity lwhich always lives in a woman's heart, lcallcd for notice, biitiii vainâ€"it was stifled i in the pangs of love which consumed her. l " David, don‘t go !" she cried, in an appeal- ; in: \‘o.cc, as he turned the handle of tho i door. “ I only hesitated becauseâ€"because i l have always loved you so, analâ€"and I i thought that I should break my heart”‘â€" . She stopped short there, ashamed to end 2 her sentl nee. 5 l’avid Stevenson shut the door and came 5 acrosstlie mom to her side. “You thought ; what Would break your heart 2" he asked. ; Bu: Elsie shook her head. “ Never 2 mind," she said bravely. We won't talk Iabout that. I will come to Holroyd,andâ€" i and help you to forget the past if 1 can." "Then that's a bargain,"st be, drawing mar. “Well,”sai«l he, after a minute or two Wmfind I’ve kept the place open so long," a long heath. rub a piteoushtteinpt at making fun. that I h_ardl_v like to offer it to am: I or else. \\ ell," finding the iiii mi alum; “vr‘hat do you say, Elsie f“ I bit! It: storing at him in iit'er censur- oation. her light blue eye-:1 liiit-i \ii‘... wndu,her whit-r bro-v wrznkled, :nnlv ' He did no: say a word beside, did not sit-mp; to touch her. or act in any way difr-reni 1:: hi. 'l‘llll manner :0 her, except- pvinam, :i..-.i he was less polite than 0‘ r~ ~‘n‘n coil-den necessary be- l'.ll1' j as who are not bound together i by t L: of ' bind. a “By the bye," he said, suddenly, "I “Aye!” muttered the csachrssu, in have bought something toseai our contract. reply. "And Mrs. ’Arris'll catch a Tartar No, you need not look like that. I only in ’im, no mistake about that." bought it yesterday. wish on purpose." He had taken a little case out of his pocket, and now held his hand out to her with a ring lying upon the palm. It was a beautiful ringâ€"diamon-l and sapphiresâ€"s ring fit for a princess. "Won‘t you have it ?” he asked, in sur- prise. as she made no effort to take it." “Yes; if you will give it- to the." film answered. He took the ring in his other hand and held it toward her. Elsie took it with an inward groan, a Wild cry rising up in her heart. “Oh! my God! will it be like this for always 2" and than she put it on her left hand, whence it seemed to strike cold to her very heart. “I must go now,” David said after look- ing at her hand for a moment. “I'll come back this evening. I must go now. Will you tell your people, and then I’ll speak to your father when I come? And I shall ask for an early wedding Elsie; the manor it is over and we get settled down the better.” “Yes,” she said, faintly. There was none tor much color in her cheeks now, poor child, and her blue eyes were dark with pain. David looked at her uneasily. get away for an hour or two and think it all over,” he said halfnervously. “I must have a clear story ready for your father.” “Yes.” I I wentcver to Ips- “ I inust “Thenâ€"good-by.” “David,” she said, in an almost inaudible voice, “you have not told me that you are glad or anything. Have you not one kind wolrld9 for me! Has Dorothy got- everything sti ." He started as if he had been shot, but he turned back at once and took her in his arms and kissed her passionately half a dozen times. “Ohlmy poor girl, it is rough on you,” he said,regretfully. “ I’m a brute' to let you do it.” ” N0. no !" cried she, winding her arms about his neck ; “ no, no i I would rather be your slave than any other man’s queen, Kiss me again, David." . And David shuddered. the perversity of love ! The heart that beat against him was heating for him alone. The blue eyes looking so yearningly into his were pretty and true. The clinging arms were ' loud and loving, but they were not Dorothy’s arms ; it was not Dorothy’s heart ; and he shuddered. And the next moment he was on his horse again and tearing homeward, while Elsie lay in a frenzy of grief on the floor, just where he had left her standing looking mourufully after him. Poor child: poor Why 2 With child ! dimly and vaguely she realized What she had done. She realized that if she had held out firmly against him and had said : “ I have loved you all my life, and as soon as you will come and tell me you really want me for yourself I will gladly come to Holroyd ;but I will not marry any man whose heart is filled full of another woman --I would rather live and die alone than tliat”â€"-tbat then shewould have had a fair chance of winning his heart as entirley as evenshe could wish. She realized this with- out actually putting her throughts into lang- uage, and she dimly grasped, too, that by fearing to let him go she had made herself David Stevenson’s slave forever. I CHAPTER VIII. THE THIN EDGE 015 THE WEDGE. \Velj, it happened the very day after this, that Lord Aylmer made up his mind that he would wait no longer in effecting an entrance into the little flat in Palace ( Mansions. To do him justice, he never for one mo- ment suspected that his néphew and M rs. Harris were married. He imagined that the little establishment was kept up in a way which is not an uncommon one in London, and that now Dick was safely packed of? to India, he could go and make friends with the loveliest girl he had seen for many a day, without any more difficulty than that of starting an acquaintance. To tell the truth plainly, Lord Aylmer had seen Dorothy with Dick, several months before he carried out the plan which had got his nephew safely out of the road, and had left him, as he believed, poor, conceited, deluded, old man, a fair field ; and, to tell the truth further and more plainly still, Lord Aylmer had fallen des- perately in love with her ! So desperately that he had put himself under great obliga- tions to his old friend Barry Boynton, had set my lady’s suspicious working, and had made Dick detest him more than ever, in order that he might possibly be able by book or by crook to gnd favor in Dorothy's eyes. Poor, deluded old man ! If he had only known all ! Ishe could only have listened to the young husband and wife discussing “ the old savage," and have known all that had its home in Dorothy’s faithful and tender heart ! But then, you see, he did not, and so I have a longer story to tell you than I should have had if all had gone smoothly and well with our young couple, and they had started their married life at the tail of a marching regiment, on an increased allowance kindly given them by a liberal and indulgent uncle. The old lord had not found it an easy matter to effect an acquaintance with the young lady in Palace Mansions; and,really, when you think of it, it is not always an easy thing to accomplish, especially when there is no help on the other side! However, this morning,after having spent many hours reconnoitring the block of buildings called Palace Mansions,. after having driven slowly up and down the High street, after making many more or less useless purchases in the High street shops, and after fretting his impatient old soul into a fever, he made up his mind that he would go boldly to the house, ask for “ Mrs. Harris," claim a friendship with the departed Dick, and gradually work into a position of friendli- ness with the object of his present admira- two. This admirable plan was, however, des- tined never to be carried outâ€"not because Lord Aylmer changed his mind, not a bit of it 1 He carried out his part of it so far as to order his carriage for a certain hour, and when that hour came to get into it and to give an order to Charles. “\Vhere to, m’lord l” "Palace Mansions." “An' I believe," murmured ('harles to Barker, as they drove off. “that the old codger's done it at last. Palace Mansions is the orderâ€"that's where Mrs. 'Arris lives you know." “They generally takccare of themselves,” said Charles, with a cynicism worth of his estimable master. Coming events, they say. out their shadows before, and Barker. who had been giving asmall share of attention to Charles and gossip, suddenly pulled in his horses with a jerk. " ’Osses is enolined to be playful to day,” he remarked. “I dessay they know it is the wrong time of year to be in town," returned Charles, superciliously. "Likely enough, ’Osses is as sensible as Christians, and sensibler than some," Bar- ker rejoined. As they got over the ground the “playful- ness"of the horses did not subside ; indeed on the contrary, it increased, and to such an extent that by the time they turned into the heiisington High street they were rac- ing along at express speed, with the evident intention of bolting as soon as they had a chance. Barker, however, knew his work and did not give them a chance at all, and by the time they reached the corner of the road for which they were bound, they were going steadily again. Unfor.unaiely at that point, however, that terrible maker of mischief, the unforseen,happenedâ€"a little child with a balloon as large as a man’s head sudden. let go the string with which she had held if captive; the balloon soared away and dashed into the near horse’s face ; the child screamed at the loss of her toy ; the horse reared-rand plunged. Barker administered a cut of his whip, and the next moment they were dashing down the road, and an elderly woman was lying helplessly in a dead faint just where the carriage had passed. “ My God l We are over some one i” shouted Lord Aylmer. He was the kind of man, who, on emergency, always appeals to the Deity, whom in all his ways of life be utterly and systematically ignores. ” Let me get out l” he cried. Barker, who was pulling in the horses with might and main, hadalready checked their mad speed, and a moment or so later turned the horses, with a face like chalk ands. dreadful fear knocking at his heart that the motionless figure lying in the road would never move again. He pulled up just where the crowd was gathering, and Lord Aylmer was out of the carriage before Charles could collect his scattered senses sufficiently to get off the box. (To BE oox'rixusn.) _ENGLISH AT THE HEAD. Spoken by More People 'l‘lian Any Other Language or Clvlllznilon. More people speak English than any other anguage now in use in the civilized world, and the increaseiu the use of English is so rapid that“; may ultimately outstrip all the European languages collectively. At the beginning of the present century French stood at the head of languages in general use. Then 20 per cent. of the people of Europe and America spoke French. Then followed, in order named; Russian, 19 per cent. ; German, 18 per cent.; Spanish, 16 per cent.; English, 12 per cent.; and Italian, 9 per cent. French was the langu. age of treaties, of fashion, of international correspondence, and, to a considerable extent, of commerce. At the beginning cf the present century twice as many people in Europe spoke French as English and twice as many spoke German as English. More persons in Europe spoke Italian than English, and, in fact, English had a subordinate rank. Colonization in America and Australia, and particularly the enormous increase of population in the United States. favored the extension of English. Colonization in South and Central America favored Spanish and in Brazil, Portuguese. One reason of the rapid and general extension of the Eng- lish language has been that colonization from Great Britain has been very much larger than from other countries, and the English have made their influence felt more decisively than have the peonle of other nations in colonies. Thus, for instance, Holland has to-day extensive colonies in various parts of the world. The present population of Holland is 4,000,000, and of the Dutch colonies 24,000,000. The area of Holland in square miles is 20,000, and of the Dutch colonies 060,000. But the Dutch language has never been extended to any great extent by reason of these colonies,the inhabitants or which have never learned Dutch. The French, Italian, and Russian languages have not been extended greatly through colonization. As a consequence of the changes through colonization and other- wise 110,000,000 people now speak English instead of 20,000,000 as at the beginning of the century. German has held its own with out. variance for nearly 100 yesrs;and is stil spoken by 18 per cent. of those speaking any European language. Russian has fallen ofia little, not in numbers but in percents e, and so have all the Latin languages. be number of persons speaking French at the beginning of the century was 31,000,000, and now it is 51,000,000. The number of persons speaking Spanish at the beginning of the century was 26,000,000; now it is 45,000,000. The number of those persons speaking Italian has increased from 15,000,- 000 to 30,000,000â€"just double. In Europe toâ€"day German stands at the head. It is the language of 68,000,000 peo- ple. Russian follows with 60,000,000, French with 45,000,000, English with 38,- 000,000, Italian with 31,000,000, and Span. ish with 17,000,000. In the United States the growth of English has been and con- tinues to be, most rapid, andI the two countries which are gaining most by the increase of population, the United States and Australia, are both English-speaking countries, and bid fair to keep English at the head. A Radical Chan go. First Employerâ€"I hear you have yielded to the demand for eight hours’ work at ten hours' pay. How can on afford it? Second Employerâ€" on see, my men promised to work, while they are at it. instead of standing around and chattering about capital and labor. The wings of the owl are lined with a soft down that enables the 'bird to fly without making the slightest sound. W--‘~,\A ‘\ r. .x p. \A By the Way. A handsome and durable tea-cloth can be made from two or three damask towels, which are comparatively inexpensive at present. Large towels are joined together with lace insertion, or insertion crocheted from linen thread, and finished on the edges with lace to match. If crocheted trimming is used, a tinge of color may be introduced in working, if desired. A pure white lace may be tinged or changed to a deep ecru by dipping in coffee or weak tea. Pick-up work is the most suitable fancy work for warm weather. A new kind of spread is made of squares of blue liiien embroidered in white flax and joined to- gether like a patchwork quilt. These squares are so convenient for piazza work that the odd moments devoted to them can scarcely be tiresome. If your russet shoes need cleaning, as they frequently do, dust them off and uses piece of lemon to remove the grime. “'hen the leather is dry, polish Well with a soft cloth. Thus treated, the light tan will be toned down into a neat Havana brown. White satin jeans and white duck make excellent splashers and toilet mats. \Vhite Roman floss with short and long stitch embroidery, either in adesign of leaves or flowers as a border, with the outer edges v cut scallop fashion, or finished in any man- ner individual taste may fancy, finds much favor as a suitable decoration. As for doilies and table mats, not only are they the fashion, but if not gotten up in too elaborate a manner for daily use, are quite an economical feature when it comes to keeping a dainty table with a saving in the laundering. A meat cloth and tray cloth are preferable to a napkin for concealing or preventing unsightly spots. Any simple style of decoration to designate that the article is intended to be ornamental as well as useful, is all that is really necessary. An outline in washable silk of some good design involves but little labor. Some ladies,_ however, seem so fascinated by the pretty things produced by their needles that they indulge their fancy using lovely colors of silk, which, though guaranteed to stand washing, would certainly be ruined except by most cars- ful handling. Cloths and mate may be fringed, but aworked edge out out or a hem-stitched or drawn border is newer. Have you tried cheese cloth curtains for summer when you need something airy and inexpensive? Pale pink, yellow, or blue if you like, can be draped in soft folds or ar- ranged with a valance at the top by cutting it extra long for the space you have to fill, and decorating itâ€"«wherever you may fancy to catch it up in foldsâ€"With a large rosette of the material. It lends itself to graceful draping very readily. Rios water is one of the things recom- mended in washing challis. Allow one pound of rice to five quarts of water; boil and set aside until it cools to the tepid point, then wash the goods and pour off the water, using the rice as you would use soap. Strain thewater and rub the challi with the sediment, then rinse in the water that has been poured off and shake out the material well before hanging it up to dry. Notice that no clear water is used for rins- ing, the rice water serving for that purpose to give a modicum of stiffness. A pretty fashion for marking your per- sonal linen is to use your favorite flower as a. token of ownership in all your belongings of this sort. A single violet, rosebud or daisy embroidered on the corner ofa hand- kerchief is in better taste than a marking of black silk or indelible ink with the almost inevitable clumsy writing or an accompanying blot. Then, too, the flower device is quite a fad. Five Recipes. Bacon is an excellent breakfast dish and there is more than one way of serving it. The recipe for creamed bacon is a pleasant change. Put some slices of bacon in a pan and set in the oven to bake until it is brown and crisp. Put them on a hot plat- ter ; add to the fat in the pan a table- spoonful of flour, stir until smooth, add gradually a cup and a half of milk and cook two minutes or until smooth. Pour over the bacon in the platter. Cofl‘ee cakes.-â€"A subscriber sent the following rule which she says makes “great fluffy cakes." One quart of lukewarm milk, two tablespoonfuls of sugar, one tea- spoonnt of salt, one half a yeast cake and flour enough mixed in to make a dough soft enough to drop from the spoon. In the morning out pieces out like pancakes and fry in hot lard. Mock Cantclope.â€"-Soald one pint of milk, add one cup of sugar and two tablespoon- fuls of corn starch moistened with a little milk. Cook until it thickens, add three eggs beaten light without separation, and cook for five minutes stirring all the while. Grease a melon mould and sprinkle with the grated rind of a lemon. Flavor the pudding slightly with lemon ; turn into a mould and set away to cool. Serve with sauce or a compote. Doughnuts.â€"Mix well together three cups sifted pastry floor, two teaspoonfuls of baking powder, one-half teaspoonful of salt and one aaltspoonfnl of mace. Beat one egg, add to it one-halfcup of sugar,one teaspoonful of melted lard and one half cup of milk. Mix with the dry ingredients, cut into rings and fry. This rule makes twenty. Seed Cookies. -1leat in a mixing-bowl one egg lightly, adding gradually one cup of granulated sugar with in Dover egg. beater ; add one-halfooup of new milk, and before mixing add three and one-half cups of sifted flour and one heaping teaspoonful of baking wder. Stir well. then add one- balf cup 0 melted butter and one teaspoon- fulof caraway seeds. Stir until fine and white, then drop into a buttered dripping pan, pat out evenly with the hand,sprlnklo with sugar and bake. When cold in the pan, out into small squares and put when. they will keep moist. HOUSEHOLof” “Am.-- -.... . .. ix .