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HomeMy WebLinkAboutExeter Advocate, 1904-7-14, Page 7iiii0411W,SgettitiOttee,t0-06 ' ! About the ....House I ove-oz;veleonnyeteceeses GOOD TILLaTGSTOEA'r. For sweetbread croquettes, cook, cool, and mince a sweetbread. Add enough chopped chicken to make a full pint. Melt ons -quarter cup- ful of butter, Ade. one-aalf cupful of flour anti cook until frothte Add gradually, stirring all the time, one cupful of rich, well-seaeoned chicken stock and one-third cupful of cream. Season with pepper, add a beaten egg and the iniaced sweet- breads.. When cool, stia,pe, roll in. fine bland or crackercrumbs, then in beaten egga and again in crumbs, Pry in deep fat, drain, and serve with mushroom sauce. Banana Shortcake—Make a rich tea -biscuit crust, bake in jelly -cake tins in not too thick layers. When done, oplit open with forks and but- ter while hot, three layers being enough for one cake. The two bot- tom layers, and one top make the Jest shape. Take about three good - %Zed thoroughly ripe bananas and shred finely with a fork, Spread a layer of the fruit on the crust add- ing the least bit of salt, and sprin- -kie well with powdered sugar. 'Add the next layer in tho' same way. On ;he last one spread fruit very thiek- ly Well Mixed with sugar, so as to form sort of icing, Serve with soft custard flavored with vanilla. Egg Croquettes.—Four hardboiled eggs,' three tablespoonfuls of cream, butter the size of a large nutmeg, a heaping saltspoonful of salt, a dash of pepper. When the eggs are very hard and Perfectly cold rub through - a fine wire sieve, add the crestra, salt and' pepper, beating in gradually. Melt the butter and stir in. As eggs sometimes .vary in size, a little thickening may be needed. to give the right consistency. Use the finest era.acer dust, adding a little at a time until the mixture can be mould- ed into very soft balls. Roll in cracker dust and drop into a deep kettle of hot fat to fry. When they are browns drain on a wire sieve, and serve with lettuce salad. For this purpose the croquettes should be cold. When liot, serve with crisp bacon. • Lemon Snaps.—Opound of flour, half a pound of butter, one desert spoonful of allspice, two of ground ginger, tho grated peel of half and the juice of a large lemon. Mix all well together, add a cup of Molasses, beat it well, pour it on buttered sheet tine and spread it thin- ly over them. Bake in a rather ,low, oven, and roll eath square round the finger as it is raised from 111Pthe tin. These are quite as dell - as the best brandy snaps sold by .confectioners. Beef Itool.—Two pounds round steak, chopped fine, two well -beaten I tggs, one -ha]( teacupful rolled crackers, one-half cup warm butter, one-half cup sweet railk, one small onion audits little sage; season with salt and pepper, mix sal together liith a stilt spoon. Put in a deep, nare bred tin and bake one hour in a hot oven. Baste quite often after ft begins to brown. The onion or eed any kind of other flavoring for meats added. This is very nice hot for dinner or sliced cold for lunch. Ahnond custard—One pint of milk, one-fourth cupful of sugar, one- fourth pound of almonds, blanched and pounded fine, two eggs and two teaspoonfuls of roseavater. Stir ov- er the fire till thick as cream, then set hi oven till firm. Just before serving cover with whipped cream, tinted delicately with strawberry syrup or red currant jelly. Virginia Corn Muffins.—Theee egge, well beaten; two heaping elms Indian cornmeal and one of flour; sift into the flour two teaspoonfuls baking powder; add one tablespoon- ful melted lard, three cups sweet wills, one teaspoonful salt; beat Well; bake quickly iu rings or •small patty pans; serve hot. USEFUL HINTS. i▪ ll -▪ To prevent articles of silverware • from tarnishing warm them when cleaned and paint theni over with a thin solution of collohion in alcohol, using a wide, soft brush for the purpose. Articiea so treated must be wiped only with dry cloths. Every housewife in whose homes Imams are used realizes the annoy- ance that collies of less brilliant light than is given by the new bur- ner. What is not generally -under- stood is that the difficulty arises from dust which settles in the tiny apertures and prevents the free pas- sage of air. If the burners are Un- screwed from the lamps occasionally, freed o/ their wicks and boiled in a • solution of washing soda anci water, they will .coine forth brilliantly clean end the light will be once more all that can be desiredwias, too, should be more often renewed than Is commonly the case, as they are Apt to absorb the oil less readily af- ter prolonged usage. afteh the sim- ple plan for boiling the burner and • fitting it with new wicks will mean all the differeaeo between the discom- fort of the clan, 'uncertain light and the gratification that tomes of a dean and bright one. A doraestic magazine advises that the baking of a cake shotild be div- ided into four equal parts. • This necessitates looking at the cake only, rour times. 'At the end of the first • quarter the cake should be smile -- what risen, with bubbles on the top. The SCCOnd quarter fieds it well ries an and beginning to brown. At the end of the third it is "SOf ," and evenly, but lightly browned. At the last look the take shoeld be ready to take Mit, Tn malting lent on a de, in ereased lehness and flavor can be obtained y stirring granulated sugar into the lerrton Nice Until a thick syrtip foyined 11,1jet' two hours in ad - n co . of one's noel This should be placed ia t refrigerator Until *anted, when shaved ice ig to be •added and the stirring restuned. Jut before serving pour in Watet, till stiming while letting the water drip in slowly from a funnel, It may Shock tidy housekeepers to hear it, but the poor coffee Ono gets in the average household is clue largely te the Washing of the pot, it is plunged in with other pots in ell but exceptional cases, and svath- ad with the common dish cloth, 'A coffee pot," nays a POOk wkwre coffee is faint/es, "ehoula never he washed. lt ehould be filled with cold water and left to stand for e few ;moments after using. Then it should be brushed out carefully, with a, hang - handled brush, scalded with hot wa- ter and left to dry with the Upopcn till it is, to be used again. Coffee made carefully in a pot so treated hecannes a neater fit for the gods," Doilies and small center pieeee, es- pecially with quantities of open. Work, ean be lanndried with very little trouble at home. Castile or any white soap is the best cleansing medium. After washing and rinsing in slightly blued water, stretch them upon a window, taking care that every scallap and petal is well smoothed and let them dry. They will require no ironing and look like new. • CHILDRE/S'S SUMMER HA.TS. Lovely summer hats can sometimes be evolved from old ones Nvitli very littIe trouble or expense. Children never object to wearing old hats made over if they are pretty and be- coming, and while their every -day hats should be plain they need not be ugly. Pretty and eerviceable hats may be made of soft, odd crowns of linen, or silkolene sewed into brims from old hats; and a nar- row quilling of the same material on the edge of the brim will be all the trimming needed for the hat, An old leghorn hat was transform- ed into a lovely summer hat by mak- ing a now crush crown of green and white chip and net weave and adding a two-inch chip straw braid to the brim. These braids come in every grade and color, and help out won- derfully in transforming old Eats. There is no limit to the possibilities of an o/d leghorn hat, as it can be cleaned for a few times with a paste made of lemon juice and flowers of sulphur. When they cannot be cleaned any longer in his way they can be colored black or any of the bright colors. It is easy to lower a, high crown by removing several rows of braid, or to give height to a low one by, adding several rows and the brims can be made any desired width by adding rows of fancy braids. Black or tan straw hats can be freshened by brushing them over once or twice with liquid shoe polish of the desired color. A white straw hat that is only slightly soiled may be Cleaned with corn meal moistened with warm water. You can color a white Eat any shade you would like by dissolving some diamond dye for woel of the color wanted in a little alcohol and applying -to the hat with a soft. brush. Colored hats that have fad- ed can be freshened by using dye of the same vcolor, then the hat must be given a coat of thin varnish. Mealy, of the •pretty summer hats be- gin to fade and show signs of wear long before the summer is oYer, and sometimes a very small outlay of money and a little trouble will make them prettier tban when new. ll THE KAISER'S ARMY "FIRST CLASS MEW" CREATE A SENSATION, New Military Novel That Aims at Reform of German Offi- cers' Corps. The officers of the German army are writing under another lash • of scorn. Freiherr von Schlicht, a re- tired officer and a scion of a noble family clique, has written a book called "First Class Men," and in its 850 pages he has dealt exclusively witli the shortcornirgs of the officers in a typical crack regiment in the kaiser's army. The book is tanner to the famous "Life in a Small Garrison Town," written by Lieut. Bilso, the young officer who was iMprisoned and dis- missed from the German army for revealing the scandals of army the. Capt. Freiherr von Schlicht was earful not to publish his book until he had retired and was beyond the reach of the kaiser's wrath. The government forbade the publi- cation of Von Schlicht,'s book in Germany, but it was brought out in Vienna where it is being printed in enormous editions and sold all over the world, except openly in German bookstalls. COMMONER BECOMES °Flacon. The story, in outline, is this : On,a, festive occasion, when the noble officers of this regiment entertain a number of equally axistocratic friends, the • representative of the sovereign armounces that his majesty has added a new and promising offi- cer to the . corps. On h'earing the name of the newcomer, which is 'that of a conseloner, the officers without exception behave as if some dire mis- fertuhe had befallen them, and the feast elide in a gloom that could not be deeper had the honor of the regiment been touchedjust be- fore the calamity is announced the eouversation of two members of the party has enlightened the reader as to the code of ethics obtaining aleang these geutlemen, "Do you know," says one noble Officer to anotheit ``I ha's-e lately thought a good deal about the pride of nobility end the Spirit of daste. When We tegiments of the Guards at a frateenal meal drink to the spirit of 'the officers' corps and ex- press the hope that it may relnain always the same, this, in say doee not only meart.that we are to preeerve, our loyalty and affec- tion to our soV,areign, hat also that we are to rensain the first class Men Which We are, the bearers of old narees who, as Members Of the Onist atistocratic regiments, are al- ways to inaifitstin the dividing lino which ftePeratee 1 trent COMme) TROU S BUTTON S Later on, when the great calamity ef the achnission of a commenter has been declared, the talk turas nat- orally to Winkler, the innoeent cause of all this pother, The representa- UV° of his majesty are bombarded with questions, cane thampagne hes loosened the tongues, But, count, for heaven's sake tell lis. • You must know semethiag about him. Who is this Winkler?" "Gentlemen," the adjutant said at last, "all the coloeel and I know is what his majesty has just told us. Old Winkler is a factory owner." They all felt as if a load has been lifted. Factory owner! This was not much, and of eourse could not be compared with the social position of a noble Expire or a court official, but, after all, Krupp himself had been an fond only a, factory owner, and the Germaa emperor had called him •friend before all the world. Yes, they felt relieved until they saw that the count was holding something back, something relating to the fac- tory owner. "What does the mart manufacture? Guns or engines?'' "Neither of them. Trouser but- tons."- 11 a flash of lightning had • struck them they could not have re- coiled more suddenly, more horeor struck. "Good God!" they said. Presently the new man ia introduc- es). The noble oillcers have been bidden to meet theft new comrade in the barrack yard. "Gentlemen," the colonel says, "1 have asked you to meet me in order that I may intro- duce our new comrade, Lieut. Wink- ler. /f you please, lieutenant." Lieut. Winkler advanced a step and saluted by touching his helmet, standing in the stiff, prescribed atti- tude, a figure of medium height, strong and slender. Be had a good figure and looked extremely well in the becoming gold embroidered uni- form of tbe regiment. The healthy, look on his young face—he was 27 years old—with the fair mustache, and his clear blue eyes, suggested energy and independenee. Many. a, man would not have been able to hide a certain nervousness at such a moment, but Winkler's face remained serenely quiet. LOOK FOR RICII GIRLS. The contrast between the young commoner, with his innate tact and modesty, his sensible outlook, his keen sense of honor and dignity, and his aristocratic comrades with their boundless conceit, • their cynicism concerning women and money mat- ters, their glattontr and drunkenness, is talking. Perhaps it is even a lit- tle overdone, and might be still rnoia convincieg if painted' in less startling colors. After the absolute worthlessness of the aristocratic officers has been revealed In the course of seine chapters shown up in various ways, the author devotes some time to an explanation of the usual means adopted to escape from tbe degrading impecunious position into which the large majority of officers of his class End themselves. The one remedy towards Nvhich they all look, and which they, discuss with a callousness which shows the depths to which they bave sunk, is marriage with a rich girl. Here their pride of birth leaves them entirely in the lurch. All they require is a father- in-law who is able and willing to pay, their own—and probably their relations'—debts, and a trouser but- ton maaufacturer's pretty daughter does as well as a dame of the bluest blood in the country. DOESN'T WANT TO BE SOLD. As socin as it becomes known that Wrinkler is a man of great wealth, a retired officer of an old noble fam- ily, steeped in debt, is ready to sell his only daughter—who, by the way, is the only creditable representative of the crowd of "first class" people In. the book. This is the advice of the father to the poor girl : 'Never mind your pride of birth till you ha,ve a husband. There are plenty of commoners' ready to ex- change their miserable gold for a beautiful aristocratic wife who can introduce them into good society and preside at their table. When you have got a husband you can be aris- tocratic again; that will irnpress him, and the more you show him what sacrifice it has cost you to be- come his wife the more he will love and honor you.'.' The girl, in the present case, re- sents proudly and fiercely her fath- er's and brother's baseness, and by her reticence and honorable pride attracts Winkler, and ends by be- coming his wife. The absolute truth with which the author exposes these disgraceful doings will be pa- tent to all who know a,nything.of the life led by the average German officer. Poor Winkler shows .a fortitude 'un- der his trials which is truly heroic. Ho bears unnumbered humiliations, and gains some sort of position among his noble comrades by sheer force of character. But he ends as the hero of Lieut. book ended --disheartened and disappointed—he leaves the regiment to engage in bus- iness life. MOUNTAINS OP SOAP. In a mountain near Elko, Nevada, there is an inexhaustiblts supply' of pure soap. One may Oster the mine with a butcher's knife and cut as large a piece as he wants. It is beautifully mottled, and on being ex- posed to the air hardens somewhat. The mountain of clayisof fine tex- ture, and it contains boracie acid, soda., and borate of lime. Its color is given it by the iron and other minerals. In its natural state it is ranee strong in alkali, and removes ink and other stains readilat At one time it was used in all the lava- tories on the Pullman cars, but as soon as thig fact became generally' kneWn the cakes were carried away by travellers as souvenirs. The rail- way cohmany could not supply the demand, so it was forced to dieton- tihue its use, "Can you tell me what a emile is, Elsie'?" asked the father of his daughter, "A Smile is a laugh that cracks one's face Without breaking it Open," replied the small' °be/onset. IIUNTING THE HARTBEEST srovr ON TIIE. VELDT OV SOUTH ArBTOA. Pursuing Fleet Footed. Game an Picking Off Antelopes With a Rifle. We need no bottling and the heads of the bull beartbeest at the brack- pan are better worth keeping then this ;staring r, of the cow. So he aidbank with up the banwith the reeking hide to his pony, fastens it d behind hia eaddle, and mounts for the hoMewertl journey. Beneath, in the cionga, tee leave the corpse of the hartbeeet, pathetic in it$ naked- ness. In the 'blue vault above an laiaosnv.egFelroiLptoilieee;!„,iva0ez:tachjainagicar Leea;s- hungrily forward, There 1$ no beast of the desert, so poor that the veldt so scavengera Neill ant ee leae\VilAyrKwEe illtripMplAeTonnithse DbaYclkNtGrail, e Chris singing the volkslied. There O is an ominous gathering of vulturee -- above the brack pan. Chris quickens e thillse pony, nr,.,ceaeeshis carol. - ``FaS st op, Mijnheer!" 'he yells eroes to me, "The ansvogels are tearing e s We canter to the edge of the pan. y Nothing has been disturbed. The . vultures have time at their disposal. e They are still circling .above the t dead hartbeest, content to wait the approach of the jackals. We hobble our horses, and set to the labor of , skimeng. They look strangely un- . natural, the two antelope', with their . eyes set high up in the forehead, s with their corrugated horns jutting • upward and outward, the,n Ethel -ply f bent back over the neck, with the e absurd tufts of hair crowning their chaos- bones. Yet do' they afford roy- al sport, and our bag is usually heavy. •We have fresh meat enough to delight the Kaftirs, to yield a meal for our own table. Se we ride away from the brack pan. We found it pure and unsullied, dimpled with the dainty footprints of antelope. We leave it blood-stained and trampled upon, polluted with the presence of beasts of carrion. It is hot now and airless. The ST1dt palpitated like a living thing. Outlines aro blurred. Foul flies cling to the skins at our saddles. Lo- custs spring out from underneath our horses' hoofs. We plug steadily carepward. We stumble upon it al- most before we had recognized the surroundings. We kick up a slumb- ering Kaffir. We call for water. We demand breakfast. There is an air of sudden resolution through.out the camp. The voor-looper g`athers sticks for the fire. Tlie cook boy lovingly handles the fresh meat. IIis assistants bake cookies clad cut up [vegetables. The driver departs for the strayed oxen. In the shade, un - 1 der the wagon, we lie, waiting tiffin. We are weary—hungry. Our pipes af- ford aorne little alleviation. We think 1 of the joys of the morning, of the satisfaction of the kill of men in pink hunting red hartbeest, of pheas- an,t,sska:ff,v, vultures tearing carrion, of— ' The grinning coov boy has mule ready our steaks of antelope. •We ,rub our eyes, and fall, to as only 1the men of the veldt can fall to after ia, morning's riding. Hartbeest is not so palatable as springbook or koodoo, but this is no day of fine distinctions. We eat. We smoke. We fall asleep in the shade of the wagon. We shall not inspan till 4 o'clock. Elsewhere the world is sil- ent. Even the locusts are at rest. The hot peace of the veldt has set- tled upon us. - ......_.4.- STRANGE STREET NAMES. • The mornings are cold in SQUth Atrica—cold with the chill of iced, champagne. One wakes with the impression of a saramons. One la glad to be awake. The world is full of beautiful day dawns. I have see the sun rise north and south of th equator, in the eastern and in th western hemisphere. Nowhere hay I known, says Douglas -Story in Shanghai Times, so inviting a 'day break as upoe the veldt. It calls on to action with the smile of an as surest, obedience. • One wakes with one's feet to th smouldering embers. The blanket no longer tenipt to sleep. The have grown stra,ngely inadequate The sky in the east is green with th green of the jade stone. • Through i the niorning star has buraed a tiny glow poMt. Elsewhere is dense blackness. The stillness is tangible The sounds of the night have died The sounds of the day are not born The green above the skyline lighten to the green of old bronze. A ICallit drags a brand from the heap o ashes, He quickens it into life. H sets about his cooking, The wait -a - bit thorns rattle their dry bones. The world stirs to its waking. The green of the horizon lightens to yel- low. It warms to orange. It blazes into crimson. Out of the heart of the furnace emerges the sun, red, gleaming, new -minted. From the cook pot comes the fragrance of cof- fee, It is 4 o'clock of a South African morning, • A SOUSE IN THE BUCKET, a tightening of belts, the swallowing of a pannikin of coffee, the munching of a Boer meal cookie, the on -sad- dling of a Basuto pony need but a spoese ten minutes when the veldt pheasants are calling- from the grass. The sun clears itself of the horizon. We ride away from the wagon. The white tilt gleams monstrously huge in the dawn light. We knot our handkerchiefs about our throats, I and Chris Villiers, for the ah• cuts keen as a razor. Chris is Doer -born and veldt -bred; long, lanky, loose-jointed, with far- sighted blue eyes set deep beneath shaggy eyebrows the color of the sun- dried grass bushing his haunches. He sits his horse straight -limbed, with the balance of a skater. His clothes aro Coarse and chase -stained, his beard long and untrimmed, his vels- thoens hacked from the -hide of the water buck with his own hand. Bis stirrups aro mud -caked and rusty. His rifle is clean and burnished. It is his eetish and his friend. His name is carved with infinite care upon the stock. His waist, is girt with a self - fashioned bandolier glistening with cartridges. His eyes and his rifle tell the tale the Englishmen learned at Colesiso and at Mt:odder River. From his youth. up Chris has been taught to shoot to kill. Ile has learned the value of cartridges. He rides with his rifle butt resting upon his thigh. • Beyond, in the yellow veldt, is a troop of hartbeest. They are grouped about a salt pan. Their triangular shadows show black upon the sand. Through the glass their long black faces, upstanding withers, drooping quarters, gnarled horns, seem the rudely modelled creations of a savage. Their russet coats glow against the cold white of the pan. The cows are licking the salt edge of the brack, swaying their tails. Two bulls on their knees are belabor- ing each other goodnaturedly with their awkward, ineffectual horns. The clatter of their swashbuckling comes with the memery•of a medieval tour- ney. I would fain Stay and watch. Chris needs meat. His rifle goes up at the leftmost bull. I aim at the °trier. THE REPORTS ARE AS ONE. There is a sudden peace between the duelists. The Boer's bell falls for- ward upon his opponent. The other struggles to his feet. Their horns are interlocked. Before the wounded antelope can rid himself of the en- cumberance of the head, our rifles ring out a second time. Two hart- beest lie stretched upon the pan. The herd is off up the wind. The white blaze upon their rumps bobs ludi- crously.oNhorse can outrun the hartbeest, but we can afford to give them chase. Away out over the veldt they stretch. Their clean-cut limbs move rhythmically. • They race as though drilled by a sergeant instructor. It is glorious out here in the young Morning. The cool air is invigorat- ing as a Shower bath. The horses enjoy the sport. • Chris points with his rifle to the front of the antelope. His keen eye has detected the break of a donga. He digs his rusty spur into his pony. The horses gallop mightily. The antelope are swallow- ed up in the dip of the valley. The horses are pulled -up On the very brink of the donga. Together We are gazing into the hollow. There, to the right, is the bevy of red coats, They are 800 rods distant. Chris wastes no time. He sights at a linnbering cow. The rifle Cracks. The hartbeest swerves as though stung by an ineect. The thud of the bullet cornes heavily back to us. The antelope keeps on. We spring to our ponies, We ride. rapidly along the verge of the valley. The hartbeest 13 distanced by her comrades. She tosees her head ilia patiently. Chris 'slcaVes hie riile 121 triumph, Without a shudder • of warning she pitches fot ward. uport her long black nose, lies still, her red - body* strctugely out of tone with the pale yellow of the laudsca,pe. I-1er herd comradee are but a spatter of dots sprinkled across the open Veldt, Chris has ilo time for sentiment, He springs from. his lierse, clambers doWn to the carcass. With Oa dexs terity of long experience he skits it. • Curious Titles Given to Roads and. Passages. Among the many strangely named streets in Strassburg perhaps the most singular is that called "Where the Fox preaches to the Ducks." There are also Water Soup Street (Soup° a l'Elsitt), Lung Street, Heaven Street and a host of others. Sonae of the names are quite ludi- crous and we owe their existence to a French aicial. When the French took Strassburg 'from the Gerinaes in 1692 they ordered -this • man to translate all the names of streets from German into French. He knew German very imperfectly and • the consequence was a series of bur- lesque naraes. In London we have some quaint titles too. In Bermondsey a road running by the side of the river is called Pickle Herring Street. In Chelsea there is World's End Pas- sage, near Gray's Inn a Cold Bath square, and everyone knows Poultry. Paternoster Row, Amen Corner and Ave Maria Lane have all kept their nalnes since Roman Catholic times, hundreds of years ago, when. the pro- cessions ueed to pass along chanting orisons. The principal street in Ed- inburgh is the famous Cowgato. Brussels owns some curious streets. There are Short Street • of the Long Chariot, the Street of One Persot, so called because it is so narrow two people can hardly pass each other, and a road with a Flemish name of thirty-six letters, which being interpreted means the Street of the tncracked Silver Co- coanut. In Boulogne there is the Street of the Lying Corner and the road of Last Halfpenny. On the of- ficial list of the town of Tulle there is a thoroughfare entered as •Rue Sans Nom, or 'Nameless Street. At Marseilles you will lind the Street Paved with Love," and in Nancy the "Piece of tho Moor BloW- ing a -Trenmet," though for many yeats Mauro (hfoor) and Mort (death) were oonfused, end it was known by the less cheerful name of Death Illoasieg a Ta unmet. The Street of the Sucking Pig is at °halting, and in Ravenna is a road with a very length and grotesque - name, the Street of the Portincation round the Lost Sheep. There is a nest of quite small etreets at Geneva, near ofte of tho pi itelpsd. clumehes, named Heaven Street, Hell Street, Purgatory Street tied Iamb° Street, Nor must we 'forget "the Street whicili i called Straight" in the Holy Land, ,Yohnriy--"Mateg "alseaye talkin' about a bygeriie tliet. What is a hygenfc diet? '' Tointuy--"lt's Itt,y kind .of diet you don't Iikel't EIRTH OF i NEW SEM ST°BHYIS SI°PGUAT XREA:TOWEHEOD•1143) When Only Theory ig ItrlOWn 0.1>' ants and Distaiicea Cannot be DiStingaiehed. If the eyes 01 one who had. never seeu tvere seddealy smelled, Lite world would be a strange sight, We see not only by means ef the physical powers of the eye, but by experience. A blind mart whese sight is restored, cannot recognies his own wife until he touches her face 9r hears her voice. A man who hat; never seen until he was thirty Years old has sent to the Preblem, a magazine for the blind, a remarkable account of his experience when the bandage was drawn from his cyes in the hospital and he was, as it were, born again into the world. • What I en,w frightened me, it was so big ,and made Snell strange mo- tions1 called out in terror and put out Me hand. My iinget.s touch- ed -my nurse's face. I knew she seam there, for .ehe had just taken the bandage from my eyes, and I knew what 1 was touching; but I did not know what it was r saw. For mercy's sake, what is it?'" X asked. The nurse answered me soothingly, taking my fingers in her band and moving them from ter mouth to her eyes, to her nose, chin, and forehead, WAS HER FACE. It is my face that you see. Look! You know this is my mouth -- nsy chin --and these are my eyes." So I knew that I was seeing what was familiar to the touch of my Lag- ers—a human face. But the sensa- tion was still one of terror. I seemed so mai/ beside that expanse of ha - man features which was so familiar to my nngers, so unnatural to my new sense. • • When the nurse moved away from rny cot I felt a new sensation, which was so agreeable that I laughed alotfd. The nurse came back. but not so close as before. . "What is that?" I asked. "You are looking at the blanket swahic," lies across your feet," • she id "Blankets must be beautiful things," I said. "It is a red blanket," she exphain- ed. Then 1 thodght I knew why pee- l:de spoke of the beauty of the red rose. This was my first knowledge of colors. RED, PLEASING COL -- I saw, and yet did not know that I saw. Row could I know e.t feat that those new and wonderful sensa- tions meant the birth of a swap of, which I knew notbiag except in theory'? Of course I was expecting to see; • but was this sight — thls jumble of extraordinary sensations'? • The dazzling light first convinced me, for I had always been able to distinguish between -night and day. 'But I could not recognize objects with say new-found sense until I had translated into its speech the langu- age of the other senses. The one lesson of the blanket was sufficient to teacht me the color, .red. Yellow was a dirk:rent matter. The nurse brought me a cool drink. I could rec;ognize her by sight now. The thing I saw inher hands I knew to be a tray after I had felt of it. Suddenly I felt a thrill of disgust. "What is that thing on the tray?" I asked. "It makes nse sick." lemonade" tisaler non. You said you liked "Then it is yellow. It is the color that nauseates me." Any object close to me looked tre- mendously large. 1 had often romp- ed with children, yet edam I hrst set eyes on a baby, it looked gigan- tic. The first day I sat by the window I put out my hand to feel the pave- ment. DIDN'T KNOW DISTANCE. "Tbat must be the paaement," I said. "I'm going to feel of it to make sure." "My goodness!" laughed the nurse. "The pavement is two stories be- low." The first meal I ate was an odd experience. When I saw that great hand with a huge fork approacaing my mouth, the inclination te dodge seas• almost irresistible. MAKING SURE. An old farmer, writing recently to a railway nompany's head office, ask- ed for rates, distances, time, and so forth for many, important kindle of freight over the principal lines. The letter probed deep into traffic busi- ness; It was indicative of a keen mind; plainly its writer, provided he got fair treatment, would become a valuable patron of the line. So the railway company sent, post haste, one of their brightest young traffic agents to see him. The agent got off at his station and had to walk five miles • to reach his house. Arriving, with some disappointment, at a small farm, the agent took from his pocket the long list of rates that three clerks had spent half the night in compiling, and he said to the old mare— "I have come, sir, to answee your rOCOnt letter in person. Here, on these papers, you will find each of your questions treated in detail. May we hope to do some business with you?" The fernier l000ked over the, list of answers with a grunt of satisfac• - tion, "YOu're from the tailitay corn- paay, eh?' I said, "WC% yoU can't hope for lattginess from ins), but I'm obliged to you Net the sone foe all this laformation. • It's fOr son, You see, lie's got to take res. examination neXt inebth, raid a 11 Of it will be about railWayt. fi? thought ltd get kiln Some fat 4 twit band." rekigioik le ot seligioure Wor