The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

Youth Writes a Letter to Love By EVELYN GILL. a Tog oy 0% PART IL _ "How old are you?" the doctor #sked sharply. A "Twenty-four," she replied prompt- ly, though puzzled. / 'He drew in a whistling breath. + "Geel" he ejaculated. "As young as that! Then it's one of three things: your shoes are too tight,\or you have Indigestion, or you have had a scrap with your beau." ; #It's not any of them," she de- fended herself. She could not, if she would, have told him the truth. Muggins was no seminar psychology student. She was only vaguely aware that she was sick of the business of nursing other wo- men's' husbands to health, working help and the coal and the electricity and the rent and the upkeep - ally; that is, not unless you called it a sanatorium or a rest house and 'chatged fancy prices. But I will come out and look it over, because' if it pays ter I want to go into it. I think it would be easier, on the whole." 5 Then she asked about the children, and told about some twelve and a half cent initial handkerchiefs she had bought at a sale, and signed her- self, "Your affectionate sister." And then, because her patient seemed quiet, she turngd out the light and lay dowm on her cot. Lying there, she thought about her shoes that needed half-soling; and she wan- always for other women's happiness and getting nothing out of it herself but her thirty a week. "Why did you go into nursing?" he demanded. The. psychology student which Mugging was not would have said that what she wanted, what her hungry heart craved, was to be in things, to find emotional life that she needed; and that, after all, what she had found was only a place on the outskirts of other folks' emotional life. Muggins, being what she was, blurted out something comprehen- sible and not true. "It looked like good money," she said. "But I guess the rooming house 'is better." He contemplated Ker thoughtfully. "It will get you yet," he mused. "What 7" "The war." . She shook her head skeptically. Then they went together to the, sick room, forgetting completely that he had asked a question that had not been answered. 3 Nor did they remember it when Dr. Biggins returned a second time that day. The cause of his visit was Godfrey. Mrs. Hammond had felt uneasy about him all evening. He looked feverish and really ill, al- though he kept assuring her that he was quite all right. There was no- thing, »of course, that he could tell her about the cause of his misery. She did not even know thaf a cer- tain stationer in the town had a love- ly daughter Mary, who sometimes deigned to exchange magazines for small coins when her father was out or busy; nor would she have under- stood had she known, What she thought of was bronchitis, and when she finally called the nurse to take the boy's temperature the little ther- mometer gave such an alarming re- port that the doctor' was summoned at once. He talked vaguely of acute gastritis or a little cold, 'and finally |" admitted that he. couldn't be until morning. --~ But outside of the sick room he wondered to Mrs. Hammond whether he might have had some sort .of an upset. "Upset stomach?" inquired Mrs. Hammond. "Something he's eaten?" "Well, that, of course," said Dr. Biggins; "but I was wondering if he might have had--might have had-- some sort of emotional shock." Mrs. Hammond stopped being wor- ried long enough to laugh. x "Well, "his college report gave. his father and me an emotional shock! But it didn't give him 'one! And his tire bill, too. Indeed, I wish that had upset him a little" go So he gave his orders to the nurse, and the convalescent little Ham- - monds were left .that night to the care of nursemaid and governess, * while Muggins was officially irstal- in Godfrey's room, to which a , had been brought for her use. "But she sat up a little while to keep ~ an eye on him, for he was tossing * feverishly upon his bed. Shading the drop light so that it would rot dis- EE et took up her leather writing pad and the letter 'she had started that afternoon fo her "gister. She looked up from her paper al Hie snd of sach lng or to Jolin sure that the pat ent. did not od het. nt Jd : 73 sure | dered whether when she was fifty i she'd still be nursing or still be keep- ing a rooming house; and then she reminded herself that . she'd better | not order any new uniforms until she decided-- "Mary!" cried the voice from the bed. # For a moment she was too startled even to rise. After all her exper- ience as a nurse she would have thought that nothing could startle her; 'and yet that simple name called to her across the room almost par- alyzed her. How did he know that her name was Mary? Aside. from the teachers in school, no one had ever called her that. To her family she was Mame; to the Hammond fam- ily she was Muggirs; to the rest of the world Miss Hopkins. " "Mary!" called the voice again-- this time with as strangely beseech- ing note in it. Hastily she rose and crossed the darkened room to his bed. She brought him a glass of water, and after he had taken it his hand reached out and clung convulsively to hers. So she seated herself on the chair beside the bed. The boy was quiet now, except that his hand kept its feverish' grasp on her own, giving it a queer sensation, more accustom- ed as it was to mustard plasters and thermometers and hot-water bottles than the strong, slim hand of a boy. "Mary." In the darkness she bent toward him a little. : Yes?" she questioned soothingly. "You say 'Yes,' just like that," he reproached her bitterly. " 'Yos'-- that's all you say." "What did you want me to say?" she asked him in her conclliatory voice, "You might at least say, 'Yes, dear. " For Muggins it was like a sudden plunge into ice-cold water, making her gasp. ' } He flung her hand from him. "You don't care," he admonished her bitterly. A sudden glory of tenderness filled her heart. She bent over him. "I do care," she declared truth- fully. bs i He sought her hand again, and clung to it satisfied. i (To be continued.) ----pe es The Little Path, strolling slowly down a sun swept way, s 1 spied, half hidden 'neath an alder _ tree, A little woodsy 'path that beckoned Once, me; I thought I should come back another day ~ And through ts lure of leaf and blos- som stray, ; And so I sauntered. merrily along, Humming a stave of some old liiting song Fhat ran, "Seize joy and beauty while you may." ; 'But when fate gave me leisure to re- turn i 1 searched the hedge rows hour by 'hour in vain . © : Where summer's growth with vines and fern; veiled all And, though life's gifts have brought 9 me treasured gala, = "That is, after you have paid the| saving both time and. sugar. And lence are not easy things to devise, but 'most Cas 2 that that gooseberries | °° in' the EopaShomas + next fall if you want to iment | L1 with cranberries they, too, ; done by cold watér method, =. °° When you open these fruits pour off the water and cook down to half the original quantity. Then add tke fruit). and cook until of the desired eon- sistency, sweetening just before re- moving from the fire. A pinch of léssen the amount of sugar needed. platters and syrup Jellies, 1 en be soda added while the fruit is cooking ed as jelly, covering the top with will neutralize some of the acid and paraffin. ug This Raspberries, cherries and, peaches Now as to cold pack. Since the may be preserved by the sun method. armistice has been signed and we feel] The cherries should be pitted before 'we can speak our mind freely, I have| Weighing, and the peaches pared and heard a number of housekeepers say|cut in eighths or quarters, according they were not thoroughly convinced) to size. - Cherries are especially good. as to the superiority of this method | Use the juice of the cherries to moist- for everything. who have been canning for years with good luck. The girls of the canning, clubs and the younger women are, of , simply wi These were women| en the sugar for e syrup. One woman always stores some strawberries uncooked and preserved th sugar. This takes a great course, strongly in favor of the new | deal of sugar, a pound and a quarter method. The others, while admitting for every pound of fruit, but the re- it is best for vegetables, yet main-!sult is more than satisfying when tain that many fruits are just as well, winter draws around, The fruit should done the old open-kettle way. :And be mixed with the dry sugar and many maintain that the old way is: every berry crushed. A wooden po- munch less work. tato masher is a good "weapon" to Berries, however, keep their shape| use for crushing the fruit. Berries, of bester and look better if done the all kinds, and currants may be kept in cold pack way. To make the syrup, this way. THe jars should be filled for berries allow two quarts of water | to' overflowing and nw rubbers used. for every three pounds of sugar and .Of course, jars, tops and rubbers boil five minutes, This makes a med-| must be sterilized. ; jum thin syrup. Wash and hull ber-| If you have quantities of straw- ries, pack in jar, of course, jars and berries bottle some juice to combine tops and rubbers must be boiled" up' later with apple juice for jelly. in 'water, adjust rubbers and put on Strawberry juice itself is lacking in tops, turning down until the edge just pectin and will not make jelly. But touches the rubber. Then set in water mixed with two parts of apple juice which is boiling and boil ten minutes.| it makes a pretty and delicious jelly. Remove jars, tighten tops, invert to For raspberry jelly use:equal parts see if they do not leak, and stare in a dark place. A 'good way is to save all your paper bags and slip each can in a bag. This helps to keep the color. Raspberries are apt to settle a great deal. To get around this let them stand fifteen minutes after the syrup has been added, when you will find they have settled enough so that you may add more berries. The farprite mathod of canning strawberries in our household is the following: Use only fresh, firm, ripe and sound berries. Prepare berries. Add eight ounces of sugar and two tablespoons of: water for every quart of berries. Boil slowly for fifteen minutes in an enameled or acid-proof kettle, covered with a well-fitted cov- er while boiling. Allow berries to cool and remain over night in cover- ed kettle. Pack cold berries in glass jars. Put rubber and cap in position, not tight. .Sterilize for ten minutes in hot water bath outfit; if using a water-seal outfit or a five-pound| steam-pressure outfit," sterilize & six minutes; or if using an aluminum pressure-cooker outfit sterilize for four minutes. Remove jars. Tighten covers. Invert and cool to test the of raspberry and apple juice. Contributed Recipes. S'gawberry Meringue Pie.--Have ready a baked crust, then: washiand sweeten thoroughly one quart of fresh ripe berries. Fill in crust and cover with the beaten whites of two eggé!| to which has been added one-half cup of sugar and one-half teaspoon of vanilla, vi quickly. This is excellent--H. E. M. Place in oven and brown Fruit Sandwich--A pleasing sand- wich is made by mashing berries, adding sugar and placing between thin slices of hot buttered toast. After the sandwiches are made, place be- tween. hot plates until the bread 'is a little softened and some juice absorbed.--~Mrs. L. M of the ™ Fruit - Eggnog--For eact person beat one raw egg quite stiff, add one- half cup of fruit juice and beat agin, | then add one-half cup of whipped ceréam. chill and serve.--Mrs. J. J. 0'C. Beat together thoroughly, Strawberry Shortcake--To serve six, use two cups of pastry flour in which is sifted three teaspoons. of baking powder. Mix in two-thirds of | I T---- Most Quoted Author Ideal standards' of literary excel: it is curious to observe what fair ré-} sults can be obtained by the most em: pirical and vulgar methods. Take, for instance, the test of sales. Entirely | misleadizg as applied to a limited period, it gives a very fair gauge if ex- tended over a sufficient lapse of time, The plays of Shakespeare, the novels of Sir Walter Scott, have probably been sold in far larger numbers tham any other volumes: of or prose | fiction. And Shakes ance is, as it should be, by far more marked than Scott's. 'In the same way one would incline to assent that thi Pid pot like Spenser would be put too low, while Pope would be put too high; still helr respectiy value to the literal s predomin- |. = a It was Shakespeare's way magnifi- storehouse~of aphorism and familiar reflections, * * * * All men cannot' fairly be judged by their best known phrases. From Keats a thousand people have echoed the plirase about a "joy forever" as again- st one that ever cited appositely those lines, infinitely more' characteristic, that tell of "Magic caséments, opening on the NN - foam" Of perilous seas, in faery. lands for. lorn. "fo encroach upon the common nd-say, "This is mine, though millions have used it." Keats wan 1 in lonely places; he does not e to us, we have to go to him, It terea_ that he or | |B Howi 2 ments ree | 26310 | i te » "Then there are the rows of plaster Juries even more vividly. aly task is to hide these injuries east he ameliorates the lot of those who have i ored Jacte} f . thro wounds, osbible. hn at the worst, odd--no morg, casts showing the nature of tbs in. The 1 ¥ drtificelly and the modus operandi is somewhat as follows: The patient on coming to the artist-surgeon, is al ready healed of his wounds. First, a plaster cast is taken, upon which the | artist works with plasticine, moulding the damaged features anew.. From this cast a mask is made of copper- plate; this is fitted and then sflvered. After this comes the enamelling of the mask. and this is where the art comes in. Several coats are applied to the metal surfade, and fnally it is carefully and skillfully colored to re- semble the lexion of the 5 At a little distance the features ap- pear perfectly natural, and the dece tion is complete at ten yards or so. ~=Most of these masks aré held in position by means of spectacles, which incidentally further aid in the decep- tion, and add tg the comfort of the wearer. A 0 In this way new noses, eyes, fore- heads, cheeks and jaws are fashioned; and 'the patient is able to go once more among his fellows without the fear in his heart that he will be either an object of horror gr of compassion. It is a great work. pt iemniig Callahan's Call. There had besn a slight accident in a coal mine, with the result that Casey was partly buried by a small quantity of earth. Callaghan, the Jéader of the rescuing party, called down to Casey: "Kape aloive, Casey." We're rescuin' ye." Whereupen there came from the earth a muffled voice: "Is that big Mcintyre up there wid ye?" ; "Shure he is." = / "Thin ask him plaze to step off the rooins. 'I've enough on top o' me wid out him." : t Cures makes ite | Minard's Lind { » ih