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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times, 1892-12-15, Page 8Chrl!atenas. The stars shoue out with quivering light, .As shepherds, oa that holy night, Their vigils lone wore keeping,. When lo ! frons oat the studded sky There beret upon the wondering eye A vision that did earth outvie, From Seaven's portals sweepiug, The shepherds alt were sore amazed, As trembling they atpward gazed At form angelic flying. 133ethe rk ! they hear the auael sing, S' Geed tidings of great joy 1. bring, For unto you is born a King, He's in a manger lying." ;Melodious rang the seraph's voice, " Fear not, but evermore rejoice, And cease fore'er your sighing, For unto you is born this day, In David's city, blest for aye, The Savior, Christ the living Way, Exult, with angels vying," And now a host, a heavenly throng, sweeps all the air and earth along, Triumphant chorus raising. To God be glory," now the cry, 'And praise to Him who reigns on high," `Good will to men," rings from the sky Trona choir celestial praising. i. star more bright than all the rest hone out that holiest night and best, The wise men safely guiding, .nod lo'. the star before them went, lid to their path a radiance lent o lead them where their steps were bent, 0•In worshipful confiding, a _nil as they came to lowly inn, lid found the new-born Babe within, They joyed with joy exceeding. ad when they saw the holy child. "ithin the arms of virgin mild, ley praised, with lips pure, undefiled, The Lord's most gracious leading, V at his feet they humbly fell, it sought, in vain, their jay to tell, 'ut opened out their treasures, IA Lankincense and myrrh they brought, 'd gifts of gold with jewels wrought, lay before the Babe they'd sought, ?titpread in fullest measures. u let the bells their carols ring, praise the inanger.cradled Ring, 'he Christ of sacred story, every heart, with men of old, r oitt its frankincense and gold, Loyalty and love untold, 'o Voa, the king of glory. GRAVEYARD APPARITION. IDUSTLkS STORY TOLD RYA TORON- TO DETECTIVE, was a day or two before Christ - Day, and business had been fear - slack, when I stood drumming on ndow-pane in my office, gazing idly u into the wet, muddy street. lime was afternoon and the room ark that more than once I had. tempted to light the gas. But I ,not done so, for I did not feel like ging or writing, or in fact doing !kind of work. l day it had snowed, and as the approached it gave no sign of ig on: The clouds came down they seemed to touch the tops of lurch spires and the roofs of the lofty buildings of the city, It day to make one homesick, es. ly if one had nothing to do as is he case with a private detec- 1 t was my condition to a nicety. not had a professional call for een week, and I felt as though 1 Ilttin,g rusty and stagnant. t almost as though I should like -e some mysterious crime coin - , if I was sure of being employ- erreting it out. T was thus oc when I became conscious that e was coining up the stairs to ht on which my office was lo- tep sounded like one made by n of middle age. rather than that b. 1 to have a visitor—someone s .. d a job for me ! I sincerely hat it might be so. tep gained the landing, and I breath for what should come Se There were rooms occupied by others on the floor, but I knew was not one of theirs, as I was with them all. �M.he stranger might be seeking 3=.f,them instead of me. B h should prove the case I felt hould be more forlorn than ' o ! The steps approached my M.d a moment later was a rap )51 e in !" I said. ened, and a woman stepped —ere room. Only her face was mx but a portion of that, as covered from head to heelin a watoeproof down which the is running in miniature rivers rsiSowflakes gradually melted. :lis Mr. Grant's office ?" she " 1 replied. "Will you take and I placed a chair beside re a detective f" ou so busily engaged that you into the country for a few ' far V' ' thing like fifty miles ; in fact ' ;" and she mentioned a town t ; like that distance away. i Lk I might manage to go," I t y moment, while I tried to e ountenance express whether ;mid get away frons my other t its. It would nobdoto close a with her too quickly, or she ect-what was the truth— tie not hadjob 'ob for some e ca you ou g o " , Tow If you wish it. I can se wv, te; put other matters off for a day or two. threw myself down on the grass close But what is the nature of the job you up at the hese of anold monument, wish me to undertake l whioh had a tendency to leau like all A11 this tulle an visitor y had not such similar objects, Here 1 made • up taken the chair I had proffered her; nay mind to wait for the ghost if it but now she sank into it and threw walked that night. back the hood of her waterproof. The new moon:would give light foe When. she had done this, I got a full a couple of beers yet, and, if anything view of her face, and saw that she was moved about 1 could not fail to see it; a woman of about middle age, with 1 had, been nearly an hour on my that about her that showed that she ghostlywatchwhen I aaw a .figure might be a working woman, or, rather, moving among the gravestones toward perhaps a. companion for someone who the river, was better offin this world's goods than Pale as the moonlight was 1 saw herself. that it was no visitant from the spirit "I suppose you have plenty of tour- world, but old. Jacob in the flesh. age, Mr. Grant?" she said, with some- Straight to the bank he went, and then thing like a smile about her mouth at over it out of sight. the oddity of her question. In less than two minutes I was at "1'f]atter myself I have a little," the batik also, and peering over it a 1 replied.' [t One has to who follows little above him, I could see every mo - my profession," tion he made. Could you face a ghost in a country He had taken some object out of the churchyard at midnight l" bank and seemed to be fondling it upon "I never tried it, Then it is that his breast, much as though it had been sort of gentry which I ani to combat ?" an infant, "Partly. But I will tell you my For some minutes this pantomime story." went on, and then slowly he bent down, This she proceeded to do, which and thrusting in his arm seemed briefly was as fellows ; tartly to replace hits the spot whence For years she had been ahouse- he had taken it. Then, standing up - keeper for a man, a cousin, who was 'right, he gave quick glances in all much older than herself. Ile was very ldirections about him, much a miser, and her task with him a !There was no one to be seen, and had been far from an easy one. He barely allowed thein enough for their' sustenance, and the old house and the land about it, which had once been a fine place was allowed to go to ruin Every pound he got was changed into gold, and careul1y kept from the sight of all—even she never being allowed to behold only as nauob as he doled out to buy food. There was but one servant—an old man by the name of Jacob Stearns He had been there when Miss Field ing came, and he had disliked her from the first. Perhaps he saw in her a rival in. the good graces of Antony Fielding. His master had threatened again and again to discharge hila, so that he aright save what he ate, but he had never done so. Perhaps it was because the old man earned more than that in raising vegetables and doing odd jobs about the house. At length, one day Antony Fielding died ; but before he did so he made a will, in which he gave to Lucy Field- ing, his cousin, all his property. The old house and its belongings were there, but the gold was nowhere to be found. There was not a sovereign in his safe, where he was supposed to have kept it., and about his clothes there was only a shall sum that he had for daily. expenses. From attic to cellar the house was searched, as were also the out -buildings, but all to no avail. Tacob Stearns was questioned, but nothing could be got out of him. He had seen his master have a large sura of gold, but he had never fingered a single coin of it. The old man had been dead a month, and people had mostly ceased to talk of the missing treasure. Some were sorry and some were glad that the house- keeper had lost her inheritance. It depended whether those discussing the matter were evil-minded or not .; .6 This was her story, and the next day found me in 11—. The house and its surroundings I found as she had described them, To the south lay an old grave -yard now enveloped in snow, adjoining the land of the late deceased. Behind, and forming one boundary, was the river with a high bank. At one time it had run so close that it seemed it must have. disturbed the remains of some of the earliest buried there ; but now the stream ran further away against the opposite bank. It was here that the ghost had been seen to walk when the moon was low or new or the sky partially obscured by clouds. I was no more successful in the house than others had been, although I had searched every nook and cranny where it was possible for anything to be secreted. (Miss Fielding had given out that I was a distant relative come to pay her a visit, so that my calling might not be suspected ; so I had no fear of interruption.) The lost treas- ure was not in the house I felt con- vinced. The next day I made some inquiries among the neighbours, and questioned old Jacob about the ghost which had been seen walking among the old tombstones. Several of the former declared that they had seen a form moving about, and on inquiry I found that the object had not been seen until the old man Fielding had been laid there to rest. Old Jacob shook his head mysteri- ously, and admitted that he too had seen it, and also hinted that he could tell more than he cared to, and I began to have my suspicions that he could. But how to make him speak was what puzzled me. That evening 1 told them that I was going out fpr a stroll through the town, and might not be in until late. Miss Pielding.said that if she wanted to re- tire she would leave the door unlocked. Then I started off, and as soon as I: was out of sight of the house 1 climbed over the low wall which enclosed it, and entered the graveyardat a point where there was little danger of my actions bering observed. Going -back towards' the river,`I She diel not turn bit over to the law; but he Was told to go, and E --- never saw his f..Ce. again. - I was rewarded handsomely ;by Miss Fielding, and am open for a similar conlmissionthis Christmas, if you know of one. Connie !bums For Xmas N ght. Why is the letter "13" like a hot fire ?—Because it makes oil 1 il. Which is the most modest piece of. furniture ?-The clock; for it always covers its face with it's hands, and run's itself down, however good its works may be. Who were the first astronomers ?-- The stars; they first studded the heavens. What length should a panne- lady's dress be worn ?—A little above two feet. Why is the letter "0" like a disorder ly home?—l3ecause it is always in Con- fusion. Why is the letter "3" like the end of spring?—Because it is the begin - ring of June. Why is a candle nearly burnt out like a certain county in Ireland ?— Because is is Wick -low. Why is the letter "L" like a young lady giving away her sweetheart to CHRISTMAS CHEER. Mixoe PIES AND PLUM PunnINn, MEAT roar MINOS PIES, -The best proportion of meat for mince pies that I ever ,tri.ed, was beef tongue well boiled, and all the tough outer skin cut off, two parts; and roast mut- ton, one part. Mutton was the meat ueed for these pies when first invented, as I have raid, but later authorities- substituted nest's tongue, there beef's heal t, and we come down to quite; re- cent times before we fled the tougher fiber of the • beef round, used. Our pioneer mothers often made mince- meat with pork, in lank of other meat, but those blessed dames could make good things out of the most unpromis- ing materials,so well had necessity sharpened their inventive powers. I wotild not, however, advise my readers to try to emulate them with a pork mince pie; it would be labor wasted. And in advising the use of a propor- tion of lean, cooked mutton in mince- meat I must not fail to warn you never to put in any mutton suet; it is a fatal error. Beef suet must be used, fresh, sweet and dry ; the ancient formula was equal parts of beef suet and apples, but if you wisely cut down the proportion of suet to the very smallest amount that you find your YOUNG ;CANAD4. re-entering the graveyard he glided in and out among the tombstones, and left it by`the way he heel come. I waited until his form had disap peared, and his footsteps died away in the distance, and then I noiselessly crept towards the spot he had so lately occupied, feeling sure that - the task I had undertaken was nearly finished. The gold and the thief were on the eve of being discovered. Standing is his tracks at the bottom of the bank, I pushed aside the bushes and thrust my arm:the i e t h a o ole there revealed. My hand touched an object, which I grasped and dragged forth into the pale moonlight. A. sudden thrill almost like that of terror ran through my being as I saw what it was that I held. No wonder, for it was a liumc&n skull ! I almost dropped the ghastly object. It slipped from my hands, and as I recovered it it gave forth a jingling sound.' My fright was 'gone when I saw what it held. A half dozen small bags were crowded into it, filled with coin. The lost treasure was found, and Jacob Stearns was the thief. 1 bestowed the gold about me, and put its strange 're- ceptacle back from where I had taken it. Then I returned quietly, to the house and went to becl. The next morning I acquainted Miss Fielding of m discoveries` and success. Then old` Jacob was called in. Ile would confess nothing until the bags of • ;old were shown hitt, and then h'e was as abject as a cur, and confessed all. Miss Fieldale was n agri imous another?—Because it makes over a lover. Who was the first whistler, and what diol he whistle?—The wind; he whistled "Over the hills and far away !" What great commander,after having been killed in an engagement, came home in good spirits at last 7—Nelson. Her uncle's sister's father's wife Had but one son in all her life. I am that son, and have children t h•ree- Two gills and a boy as you may see. Now what v sat relation is she to me. —Daughter. Wfiy is a solar eclipse like amother beating her boy ?—Because it's a hid- ing of the sun (son). What aro the three companions of a lawyer? --First he gets on, then he gets honour, and then gets honest. What was Joan of Arc made of ?— She was 14Iaid of Orleans. If compelled to swallow a man,what sort would you prefer ?—A little Lon- don porter. Why is Cupid life poverty ?—Be pause he drives people to the union. Little James, four years old, was pointing, out a cow to a playmate. See the bell around her neck," he said ; "do you know what that is for ? That's what she rings when she wants to tell the calf that dinner is ready. "-[13abyland. Boar's Head.—It was the custom in merry old England for the butler with great cermory to bring into the ban- quet hall at Christmas dinner a boar's head ornamented with flowers and ribbons. ' As the'snioking dish appear.•- ed a Latin, sing was struck up, yt- family approves, the result will be a decided mellowing of the 8°mince pie visions" that follow. The goblins are fewer and of a gentler breed, not to say better looking. A Goor 1VI.INOE-MEAT,—The follow- ing is a recipe for mincemeat which combines the qualities of excellence and richness in a very satisfactory manner Cook a small beef's heart, or two tongues, by simmering, not boil- ing, until perfectly. tender. When quite cold, cut away any gristle or tough outer surface, and then chop very fine. To two pounds of this add one pound of minced roast mutton. Then acid one and .a half pounds of suet, chopped very fine. -Chop also four pounds of pared apples, two pounds each of currants and stoned raisins, and one-fourth of a pound of citron. Put' it over the fire, with one pound of yellow sugar tilissolvecl to a syrup in water, two quarts of cider and half a pint of brandy. While it is heating, add ground spioes as follows : One tablespoonful of °loves, one of allspice, one of salt, one of ginger and one of mace, with one nutmeg grated; the grated rind of one lemon ancl the juice of two. Let it all, simmer together till the liquor is reduced . one-half. Satisfy yourself by tasting it that the proportion of spices is entirely to your liking. When it is : cold make your pies with nice puff paste. FRENCH MINOR-11ISAT.—In£teaC1 of the above I have often used a French. recipe for mince pies. with altogether. agreeable remits. It gives the'rnost cligestible rich ixiince, iihink that be made. This is the method of ma k- ing : Take two pounds of 'roasted sir lion of beef, well done, and the oute r part. all cut away, one pound of beef suet, and two pounds of apples, all chopped fine; also, one pound each of pale yellow sugar, 111, alaga raisins, Sultana raisins and ourrants, four ounces each of candied citron, dried orange and lemon peel, cut in fine bits, also the grated rindof two fresh oranges and two lemons with their juice, and an ounce of allspice, a pint of brandy and a bottle of sherry wine. Mix all these ingredients well, put `them in a jar, and keep them for a fortnight in a cool place. (If you are in a hurry for the mince -meat keep it two days in a warm closet). Make thepie with rich puff' pate, relied. thin. These mince pies are very digestible. owing to three things : First, the meat used has been roasted instead of boiled, and therefore has a softer fiber; secondly, the compound is not cooked after it has been chopped; anct thirdly, the usual variety of spices is not used 1 may be wrong in my chem- istry, but I judge that these combined causes account for the ready assimila- tion of pies made after this recipe. ANOTHER MINOE PIE. The follow- ing is a good formula for rich mince- meat, but it should not be cooked after mixing, but should be kept for at least six weeks before being made up into pies. Take one fresh tongue, boiled and chopped flue; four pounds each of stoned raisins, well -washed 'tante cur- rants, and peeled• and chopped apples, with three pounds of minced suet, and two pounds of yellow 0 sugar, made into a syrup and well skimmed. - Also, cut fine one pound each of sliced citron and of candied lemon peel, and add to the mixture, with one pint of good brandy or of sherry wine, Finally,add ground cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg to suit your taste, then put the com- pound into a stone jar with a close -fit- ting lid, and stand in a cool place. If it dries out in keeping add a little more brandy. When I snake up this mince- meat, I sometimes add a few candied cherries, with a cupful of boiled cider, thus giving the pies a peculiarly deli- cious flavor. FraniPunnxxas.--The progenitor of the plum, pudding;, the pride and glory of the English Christmas,was the plum porridge,or. pottage. In medieval times it was always served with the first course of a Christmas dinner. It was made by boiling beef or mutton with broth thickened with brown bread; when ]calf -boiled, raisins, currants, prunes, cloves, mace and ginger were added, and when the ertass had been thoroughly boiled it was sent to table with the first or meat course. This dish is so ancient that the date of its origin is not known. The Puritans objected to the plum porridge as they did to the mince -pie, regarding the dish as a symbol of ex- travagance and luxury. The lovers of good eating, however, preferred to charge this prejudice to the Round- head's sour temper'. When Sir Roger de Coverley saw a dissenter eating his plum porridge with obvious enjoyment he thought there was hope for him. This once indispensable dish has not been on. record since the first decade of the nineteenth century. When it began to give way to the richer after - course of the plum pudding we cannot say, but the latter is mentioned by name in the ;t Tatler" and we find a recipe for it in a book published in 1191. The English custom is usually to make the pudding some weeks. or even months before Christmas, for the time that a well -made plum pudding will keep, if it is not allowed to freeze, is astonishing. But it can be made the day before boiling it if desired. GENUINE ENGLISH SAUCE.—If you want to have your Christmas pudding gentrine, you must not omit the sauce, but make it by this recipe Put in a small saucepan six egg yolks, four ounces of sugar and a glass of sherry,a lemon rind (rubbed) and two small pieces of loaf sugar, a pinch of salt and a pint of milk. Mix this well, put it over a slow fire, stir it briskly with an egg whip until the sauce thickens and is frothy and white pour some over the pudding, and serve the rest in a bowl. 11110 not heat .it too long or•it will curdle. When the pudding is taken up, pour over a gill of brandy and set it on fire, carrying it alight to the table.. We'll lop Some Corn To -night. How the north wind whistles Down tbo valley white 1 John, go get the popper ; we'll pop some corn to -night. The coals etre all aglowing, Plump cheeks flush in the light, John, go get the popper ; We'll pop some corn to -night. It's just the night for laughter, It's just the night for fun ; We will out -roar old Dorcas, For we are five to one. Come, Bess, help with the shelling, Nell, get, a basin bright, And John, come, shake the popper; We'll pop some corn tonight. Thegiddy corn is dancing And jumping all about • Be careful, John,' be careful, . Or it will all hop out, And burn to crisp unless you Shake with all your might ; So shake the popper lively,: ' While we pop the eor`h tonight. The furniture and appointments of Queen Victoria's new dining-roornat Osborne cost �. a Can .6100,000. laes