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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Clinton News Record, 1917-01-11, Page 6a THROUGH THE DARK SHADOWS Or The Sunlight of Loyss Clitatelie i; XVIL-•'-(pont'd). "I ant," said Leroy, "`What is it yon went?' "I leateei to ask you a question," re- • • turned the other, bringing his face closer to. Adrien, who recoiled invol- untarily—the very smell of the fustian clothes offending his delicate norstrils, The man noticed this, and frowned even more heavily. "You're a gentleman," he said, eleastways l s'pose you calls yourself such—p'haps you'll aet Blit one." Kindly snake haste and tell me what you want, my good fellow," said Ad- drien impatiently. He didnotknow but that this was a preliminary to an attempt to rob him, 'and he was in no mood for a brawl, "Oh, T'll be quick enough for you," was the sullen reply. "You don't re- member me, you say; p'raps you'll re- member my name—Wilfer—Johann Wilfer," "Johann Wilfer,"repeated Adrien, thoughtfully and slowly, wondering where he had heard the name before. "Yes, Johann Wilfer, Picture Re- storer, Cracknell Court, Soho," "Ohl" said Adrien, as a burst of memory dawned on hint. "I remem- ber you now. What is it you want? But tell ins first, has the girl Jessica returned yet?" "That's just like you swells," growl_ ed the man. "Nothing like getting your word in first. Has she returned to me? You know jolly well she ain't. She won't come back to me, till you've done with 'er, Pll be bound." Adrien started, as the significance of the accusation dawned on him. He had thought more than once of the girl, with her dark eyes and silken hair. What had become of her? What, alas! could have been her fate, if she had not returned to this man, her guardian. "What do you mean?" he said now, sternly, "What I say," reorted Mr. Wilfer. "She ain't returned to me, an' that's my question_to you. Where is she, an' what 'ave you done with her?" "How should I know what has be- come of her?" answered Leroy, gen- uinely startled. "Do you dare to in- sinuate that I know where she is? I have neither seen her nor heard of her," "That's a lie," said the man shortly. Leroy surveyed him for a moment. . "You are impertinent" he said, in his clear tones. "Stand aside, and let me pass." Mr. Wilfer thrust his hands into his b pockets, and stood his ground. "That won't go down with me," he said insolently. "I want to know where my niece is; and by Heaven, I'll know tool" Leroy stopped short. "She wag your niece, you say?" "She was," said the man, `though it's no business of yours; she belonged to me." "So I presume, or you would not have ill-treated her," retorted Adrien dryly. "When did you see her last?" "Over a month ago—as well you know," returned Wilfer coarsely. "She ran off the morning you came glen venting after her." Adrien could have knocked the man down, but he restrained the longing, and said instead: "I thought you told me she'd rob- bed you, and h d run away? •That was a lie, I suppose?" his collar, mad he was borne rapid and silently to the ground, Meanwhile, Adrien, all unconseie of his deliverance from further distu bane, pursued his way to the theatre, • dent etre if you're the old 'un hints. sail:; but that's enough oe yotu' jaw, What's your game anyhow? S'pose You did see rhe in a pub tat Canterbury along of n •young party, s'poso I am an artist, alt' I did sell an old, roaster,=, that ain't no business of yours; that don't give you the right to knock me down or interfere with me, so now then!" I "finished.?" e q fired Vermont n u 1 pleasantly, "I quite agree with you, y' Mr, Willer—on some points; but it is greatly my business, tts you will see, us.I'Iad I not tomo up at that moment, 1 re wonder if my friond would be as safe as he is now," =.'Your friend," echoed the other. "Is Mr. Adrien Leroy your friend." ly He is indeed,' replied Jasper with t, 'a. grin. "Now suppose you tell ane t, what you two gentlemen were dis- the' cussing," • "Suppose I don't?" retorted Wilfer ou mr1oolently, You find out for your, salt, if you're so 'clever, Mr. Know-all; is I'm off. He tried to push past Ver- y, mont and thus effect hie escape; but ch he was not to get all so lightly. er1 Jasper removed his cigar, which he ill had been puffing, and dropping his soft, mocking tone, said sternly. "Stand back; go and sit on that ce, bench. I haven't done witheyou yet, Johann Wilfer." "I sha'n't"was the worthy's prompt answer. "Then I shall call the police," re- turned Vermont, pulling out his `silver cab whistle. it ck. "Call Willer 'em" he said defiantly. "I d don't care. What's the police to me, as I should be seared of 'em?" rY d- "A great deal," was the calm an- tain ewer. "If you are mad enough to ext disobey me, I shall whistle for the police; they will find me struggling with a most villainous -looking ruffian, a whom I instantly give in charge for at assault and robbery of my dear friend. Mr. Leroy, who has gone in search of is assistance." "It's all a lie." shouted Wilfer furi- ously. "Appearances would be too strongly against you, my friend. The law is 'a hass,' as doubtless you have heard be- fore; and when it comes in the shape of a blue -coated, helmeted and thick- headed policeman, whose word do you think would be believed, yours or mine?—to say nothing of this evi- dence." Stooping, he picked up Le- roy's gold watch. and chain, which bad alien from • his pocket during his truggle with Wilfer. "1 found this n your hand. A clear case of assault andollow.rob" bery, with penal servitude to Mr. Wilfer, dazed by the thickly- eshed net drawn round him, eyed the watch and yielded. "Curse you!"- he said. "You're a vowing one, an' no mistake." Jasper smiled. "Thank you," he said; "a genuine ompliment, and a candid one. Now then, to business. What did you want ith Mr. Leroy?" • CHAPTER XVIII, Mr, Johann Wilfer glared vengeful at the smooth face of his assailan and, struggling still, . breathed ou with a Choice assortment of oatlas; question; "Who aro you? What do y want?" "Questions we will leave for tl present, my friend," was the rept "Aro you going to struggle mu longer, because if so, I. shall be and the painful necessity of using st greater force." Mr. Wilfer lessened his movements "Alit" continued the suave vol "So you decide to take things quietly. Wist man! Now have the goodness to rise and let me see to whom. I have the pleasure of apealdng." Whereupon our friend, Mr'. Jasper Vermont, released Johann's throat from the pressure of his knee—for was by this means he had controlle the other's movements—and allowe him to rise to his feet. It was a ve sullen and altogether puzzled indivi ual that stood waiting, unser whether to listen to his captor's ne or to make his escape. Jasper eyed him as a cat does mouse, op the watch for the slight° attempt to move. "So!" he said, as he took out h cigar -case, and drew forth one of Leroy's choice Regalia's. "So! Now we are on our feet again, we ook— well I must say, none the less a ruf- fian." The man turned savagely as if about to run away, but Jasper was too quick for him; with a grip of steel he caught hold of the other's arm. "Not so fast" he said quickly. 'What is your name, my friend?" "What's that to you ?" queried Mr. Wilfer naturally enough, as he settled his ragged scarf, which, during the e struggle, had become uncomfortably i tightened. "That is my affair," replied his op- f ponent politely; "perhaps it is merely curiosity. But as a matter of fact, m I think I have had the pleasure of meeting you before, and I never like to forget old friends." k Mr. Wilfer grunted. "Come, let me think," Vermont c w ontinued, "were you ever at Canter - tory?" • Mr. Wilfer started violently. "Ah! I am on the right track. I remember now; it was a little inn in the summer time, a beautiful moon- light night." "Wasn't me," snarled Wilfer, though his face was pale "I thought you were there," said his tormentor as cheerfully and trium- phantly as if the other had admitted it. "You're not a good liar," he con- tinued. "If a man can't do that sort of thing, well, he'd better stick to the truth. At a little inn in Caanterbury. Yes, I remember it all now. I'm glad my memory does not play me tricks," His grasp tightened on Wil- fer's sleeve. "I don't like tricks," he purred. "How strange that we should meet again. I think at that time you were an artist; yes, that is what you called yourself, and there was a pretty little girl with you and you called her your wife. Oh! yes, mthings."yi friend, you were good at `calling' "Look here," growled Wilfer, get- ting his word in at last. "You just stow it. I don't know you—" "No, I know you don't," said his companion imperturbably. , "But you will; oh, yes, you will! Let us go back to Canterbury, where you manufactur. ed such beautiful pictures,"� Wilfer moved uneasily. "Beautiful pictures," continued the mocking voice, "all by Rubens and Raphael and Titian. I shouldn't be surprised if that was one of yours I saw at the Countess of Merivale's to- day, the portrait of a gentleman, sold for £300. There was a warrantly with it, signed, sealed and delivered by a Mr. Johann Wilfer," "1 didn't, it wasn't," the man stut- tered, his face almost green in hue, his voice trembling with anger and fear. Mr. Vermont smiled. He had his man safe and sound. +y "Who the fiend are you?" com- menced Wilfer, 'recovering himself; but Vermont's smooth voice interrupt= ed hlm.- "I was right, I see! What a strange coincidence, Mr. Wilfer, that I should see your really admirable Rubens in the afternoon, and run against—or perhaps I should say, knock you down —in the evening." Mr, Wilfer was goaded to despera- tion. "Look here," he almost shouted, "9 "'Course it was. Who wounldn't lie to save his gal from such as you fine gentlemen? I know yer, so it's no use coming this talky -talky sur- prise with me. You just tell me where she is." "I tell you," reiterated Adrien, "I have never seen the child since the night I took her from the cold. Stand out of my path, or I shall hand you over to the police." Mr. Wilfer laughed. "So that's your answer, is it? Call away, my fine gentleman, call away," He glanced round the deserted path from the corner of his shifty eyes; then with a snarl of a savage beast, he sprang upon Leroy, and strove to bring him to the ground. But he was no match for Adrien, who beneath all his listless mannerism possessed a grasp of steel and the strength of a gladiator. Almost shuddering at the touch of the man's greasy' clothee, Leroy seized his arms, and lifting him off the ground .as though he were a terrier, gave him, lightly and easily, over the park rail- ings, which edged the by-path where they stood. Johann Wilfer was too astonished for a moment to do anything but re- cover his breath, and Leroy, setting his disarranged cuffs, walked calmly away.. With a furious oath Wilfer sprang up, jumped back over the railings, And was about to pursue Leroy, when from behind him a hand was plat on (To be continued). PHOTOGRAPHY IN WARFARE. Bulgars Carry Picture as a Sort of Safe Conduct. Another use for photography in war has been found by the Serbians in connection with their prisoners. The Bulgars, with the remembrance of their own cruelties to the, Serbs weighing on their minds,at first fear- ed to surrender to the Serbian army, their impression being that the Serbs would not take prisoners. Such as did give themselves up were, of course, treatedas well by the Serbians as by any other section oof the allied army, and to show other Bulgarians that they incurred no dan- ger by surrendering, the Serbs had a photograph taken of long files of'Bul- garian prisoners drawing rations, each man holdeng a loaf of bread and a bowl for soup. Two thousand copies of this photo- graph were printed, and the Bulgar- ians who had surrendered were invited to write messages on them to their. comrades saying how they had been received. The 2,000 picture postcards were then dropped by aeroplanes into the Bulgarian lines. Since then surrenders have been much more frequent, and the men who give themselves up always try to bring with them a copy of the photo- graph, which they regard as a sort of safe conduct. One man said that he had paid fifteen francs for his, and that he carried it always with him in case he should be captured.—London Tit -Bits. • Sole Survivor of Ship. George Winterbourne, midshipmen on M.M.S, Defence, sunk in the Jut- land battle, and sole survivor of that warship, has 'Veen found wandering in a dazed condition about England, says London Mail.,The official re- port said that there ere no survivors, but Winterbourne claims that he wa HOME ON SIX DAYS' LEAVE 1'I1N-1'IC',i'URA OF RE'T'URNED SOLDIER'S EMOTIONS, The Wonderful Peace • and Joy of (Tome After Two Years at the ' 1rstt. Respite! Seven days' respite afters nearly two years in the unceasing sound of guns, in the midst of War! lie fingered the precious slip of pa per cautiously, tenderly -e• -read it eve end over again; "No, 20064, Pte, W Smith, has leave of abaence ---to pro coed to lingland.'L •.lingland! Blighty, ho translated "W, Smith," himself. Arid to -morrow he would be speeding through France pacing the deck of the cross-Channe steamer. To -morrow night he would be home—home, after two years! Home at Last. Glad? He was excited; more ex- cited—big, strong, hard soldier --than ever ho had been over the impending school -treat of his boyhood. Only twelve hos more, and then home for six days. He placed the priceless pass in his breast -pocket -•-placed it next to the photograph of his mother he carried always, It seemed that his leave be- longed to his mother. It was no mere hope now. Home was real. He had been travelling since the early morning. He had left war and France behind. The fast train to --that had only crawled, the speedy Channel boat that to him had moved too- sluggishly, the trai that had climbed at a snail's pace from the home port to the London junction, and the slow wheels of the West -country train, had at last brought him to the scenes he knew. And down the country road his feet could not make pace enough. He was eager—too eager—for sight of the old cottage and all it held to be voluble and conversational with the old stationmaster, says London An- swers. "'Tis Bill!" At last he turned down a narrow lane. He caught the heavy scent of the honeysuckle and the sweet fresh- ness of the newly -mown hay. And then the old house flashed into view. Another hundred yards and he saw the creepers that twisted and climbed up the frontage, and used, he remem- bered, to burst into his window. His eyes feasted on the smoke that curled so contentedly about the quaint -look- ing chimney -pot. They would be at tea. Almost he gave a whoop of joy. His goal, his home—he had reached it. Ile hasten- ed up to the door. He knocked gently. Surely they would guess! He was afraid to surprise them. His mother, his father, his sister—they may not have expected him so soon, perhaps. A chair is pushed back; there are quick steps to the door; it is pulled open, and he stands on the threshold. There ie -a pause. "Mother, 'tis Bill!" his sister cries. And then two thin arms are stretch- ed up about his neck, and he is bend- ing down to her. He feels the linger- ing caress, of his mother's Bps as she kisses him with her kiss of welcome. The golden days have dawned and waned swiftly. Six days of a won- derful peace, of a quiet that had stolen into his soul and had made him even more enamored of the subtle fas- cination of home. He lilted to hear the quick step of his mother, ha liked to listen to his sister's singing as she performed each household task. r • • Is It Worth It? He looked through the window over the broad fields, and thought how good it would be to work there once again. But not yet. To -morrow these things would be a memory. And should he be fortunate to come back—to comp home— "Good-bye, mother!" he says. "I shall come back again!" There is that kiss that only those who have felt it know the worth af, and he passes quickly through the garden -gate. 'Ho is going to face hor- ror and tragedy, brutality and savag- ery again. For what ? He knows the answer as he looks back at the old thatched cot- tage, with its green creepers tracing over its wails, with the homely smok- ing chimney, and, framed in the gate- way, his dear old mother. And he knows that she and home are worth it all. JAPANESE INDUSTRY HI' i. Britain's Ban on Knitted Cootie Bloiv • . to Japan. Great Britain's war ban on im- portation of knitted goods will prob- ably prove to be a great blow to the picked up unconscious by a colliaiui nti Japanese knitting industry. During landed near Newcastle. He has been the ten months ending October 31 the wandering since then living on the total value of this line of goods ex - twenty pounds he had in his belt ported to Great, Brita'lia reaching .g And is lb. Ca lens-. j 10, 20, 60 and 100 lie Segs. When you pay the price of first quality sugar, why not be sure that you get h? There is one brand in Canada which has no secondquality-that's the old reliable Redpath. "Let Redpath Sweeten itti" Made y in one grade +only - the highest I. $9,000,000. In addition, contracts entered into call for delivery of addi- tional goods tap to next June, mount- ing to• $0,000,000. Exporters have held conferences urging the Japanese Government to strive for the rescincling of the order It is claimed that the order is not a friendly measure of an allied nation and that it will injure the friendship between the two countri•'i• It is also feared in Tokio that similar bans will affect other lines of Japanese manu- facture. Tho immediate effect of the British order will bo the suspension of many factories and the throwing out of em- ployment of 1'-ousands of workmen. As a result of the Japanese repre- sentations the British Government has announced that the enforcement of the proanibition order would be post- poned until ;ternary 1. Thep• ress is expressing hope that the authorities Willi urther be persuaded to take into consideration the situation facing the manufacturers and workers In «Tape» and see whether there is not some way of perinanently modifying ab- solute prohibition, usewit e.emer Useful 1 ecipes, Curried Potatoes.—Slice a Iarge o ion and brown in two tablespeonfu of butter. Cut up two cupfuls (boiled) potatoes and put into a fryi pan with the onion; dredge wi curry Powder, adcl half a cup of ter, it little salt and a squeeze lemon; Cools ten minutes and ser hot. Owing to potatoes being so de now suggestions as to substitutes as welcome. One dela to serve wi meat is meshed hybrid turnips, 'rhes properly cooked and mixed with a 11 do oatmeal and a sprinkling ofd ea and popper, will be found to answer the purpose very well, Novelty `Suet Puddin .—Rol the 1 paste out thinly and line it three- n- is of ng th wa- of to be used in a washing machine;' vg After clothes aro soaped and rubbed ar they should first be rinsed in het t '0 water. Potetges for latticing should always e, be well scrubbed. t- Mock cherry pie can be made with It .cranberries And raisins. Always save the bite of soap, they can be used in the shaker. There is no light easier for the strained eyes than that of the kero- a hot overt for :thirty minutes, Igor frosting and filling take one cup pow- dered sugar, moisten with warm wes. ter,and flavor with vanilla, Useful %linty. It is wasteful to buy cakes of soap quarters with sliced apples. Sprink moist sugar and spice. Now ro paste up; the part which has n been spread with apples will form double cover. The pudding is the cooked in the usual way. Of sours all kinds of fruit can be used in th recipe. Plums must bo stoned a d dried fruit soaked, when excellePP'r sutls are got. Cocoanut Rocks.— Three ounces cocoanut, two ounces butter, two ounces sugar, six ounces flour, pinch of salt, one teaspoonful °ream of tar- tar, one-half teaspoonful bicarbonate. of soda; one egg, two tablespoonsful milk. Sift the flour, soda, cream of tartar and salt together, beat up the egg and add the milk. Cream the butter and sugar together, add a little flour and grates! cocoanut, then a lit- tle egg and milk, and so on alternately, beating between each addition until all are well mixed. Put in little heaps on a buttered' baking sheet and bake ten or fifteen minutes in a quick oven. kle sane lamp. ] 01 Fuchsias are strictly summer bloom - 08 ors. Their place in winter is in the a cellar: n To renovate household brushes of e, any kind, put a teaspoonful of soda is in a basin of hot water and swish the n brushes up and dawn in it, then dry' 0- in hot sun. 'Toast is much mere delicate if the crusts are cut off. There is no waste in this, because the crusts can be dried and rolled or made into croutons. Unless the chicken is young ie should not be fried. Young chicken is known by the tender breastbone and the clean, yellow feet. Be careful when buying a sirloin steals to select a cut that has little tallow with it. The fat weighs heavy and cannot be eaten. To have dumplings light they should not be uncovered from the time they are put into the pot i}ntii they are dished up to serve. Buttons instead of being sewed on lace or net should be tied on. Using a needle with a double thread, bring the ends through to the wrong: side and tie them. If tied carefully, the thread can be easily untied.. SUPPLANTING HORSES. Roast Pork in Vinegar. --Remove the skin from a leg of pork and do not leave on it too much fat. Pour some vinegar into a large earthenware pot together with cloves and onions. Rub the pork well with a handful of salt and place in the vinegar, where it must remain three or four days and be fre- quently turned, Place the pork in the oven in the same vessel it has lain in and with the vinegar about it. Lennon Biscuit.—One-half pound flour, pinch of salt, four ounces but- ter, lemon essence, one-half pound'su- gar, one egg. Pass the flour and salt 1 through the sifter two or three times rub in the butter with the tips of th fingers and add the flavoring and su gar. Mix in the egg and then make into little balls and clip in powdere sugar. Bake on a butter baking sheet until a good even brown. Cornstarch Biscuit —Three ounc (flour' pinch of salt, one-half teaspoon ( ful batting powder, three ounces corn starch, three ounces butter; three ounces sugar, two eggs, ten drops o essence of vanilla. Sift the flour, cornstarch, salt and baking powder together, cream the butter and sugar and then add the eggs, one by one, with a little of the flour beaten well in between each. Acid the flavoring and the rest of the flour beat well and put into small greased tins. Bake in a very quick oven for seven minutes. Old -Fashioned Gingerbread.— Oie'e cup brown sugar, one cup syrup, one cup butter, one cup sour milk, one- half cup cornstarch, two and one-half cups flour, one teaspoon cloves, one teaspoon soda. ' French Toast—One loaf bread, two eggs, one cup milk, one teaspoon sugar. Cut into thin slices. Beat eggs well. Add milk and sugar. Dip bread in the mixture and fry in butteror dripping. Serve with syrup. The toast makes an excel- lent breakfast dish. Sour milk • raisin cake.-0ne pint sour milk, one cup sugar, one cup mo- lasses, one cup shortening, one quart flour, one heaping teaspoonful soda, one teaspoonful cinnamon, one-half teaspoonful cloves, one-half nutmeg and two cups raisins, chopped, This will make two loaves. Soft ginger cake.—One cup cook- ing molasses, four tablespoonfuls melted shortening, two cups flour, 'one teaspoonful soda and one -]calf tea- spoonful ginger. Add one cup hot water, Eggless Recipes. Mules and Motors Principally Usefor Transportation. Captain Harry H. Holmes, polo manager at Meadow Brook in 1913, and more recently the manager of a trench mortar battery "somewhere in France," is in New York on leave of e absence, following some terrible ex- - periences . at the front. He corf r•ms • the statement recently made by the d New York Herald that the modern style of warfare, with its vastly in- creased use of artillery and its few s 1 opportunities for cavalry operations, el is tending toward the partial elimin- - Iation of horses. "Cavalry cannot operate in a coun- try cut up with trenches," he said the Iother day. "I have seen only one cavalry charge in a year, and that was ' so„disastrous it is not likely to be re- pealed. "The principal use for horses at the front is in moving the big guns, but these are often a month or two in the same .place. Motor trucks do most of the transport work which formerly Ifell to the lot of the horse, and it is only in the ammunition columns that horses find constant work. Even there, the mule is supplanting the hors. He has shown himself to be ' hardier and less likely to go sick or lame. But it takes six mules to do the work of one good four horse team, ' Of course, the mules weigh only about 900 pounds, while the horses will average 1,400, so the difference in their capacity to pull weight is more apparent than real. "The transportation of ammunition is a tremendous undertaking nowa- days, In our sector we kept 220 horses and mules busy hauling shells for sixteen guns. Except when a big push is on the horses and mules get pretty good care and treatment, and they last a long time. "The French are using mules almost exclusively for transport work in the difficult mountainous region of the Vosges, but the habit of braying had to be overcome, before the mules were fit for service there. This was ac- complished, so I am told, by a slight surgical operation on the nostril, which has given them the brayless mule," CAPTURE DYII TRADE. British Dye illnkers Reap Harvest Front War. i wog, IAl CANADA } For Making i3w� • soap, Fat' Soften« Ing water,• Foie removing f3y� paint, For dlalnfaoting refrlgoratore, etnks, aloa053, s l: dralneandforso0 w�t�gP otherpurposo4 /1YPUYtl •UW10*Trc, v.- n, 11neiUtWA1 '?'iii; NORTil SEA BLOCKADE. Police' Chiefs Mainly Royal Naval Re- serve Men. "The North Sea blockade centres chiefly, in en area to theeast and north of Scotland, stopping all trade to and from Norway, Sweden end Denmark. Month by month our pollee force grew till a mixed armada of a thousand ships pareelled out the sea in cruising networks." writes Walter G. Ford in the Winded Magazine, "It was soon impossible for any vessel, great or small—steamer, sailer, or fisherman—tg pass without sharp,„ challenge and direct investigation. "Patrolling squadrons are strate- :glcally placed in units which command •every lane of traffic. They may be out of sight of each other, but are al- ways within easy steaming distance. Say they are twenty miles apart and that each has 'eye -way' of fifteen miles to the horizon. This ensures that no blockade runner can pass be- tween without being seen 'by one or both. "Naval officers there are in the force, but only a sprinkling to direct and command. In the main our po- lice chiefs are Royal Naval Reserve men, with splendid records In the merchant service. They are peculiar- ly fitted for blockade work, knowing these waters as the taxi -man does the London streets or the Grimsby trawl- er the shoals and banks where herring and halibut swarm. Our sea police are, moreover, accustomed to ships' manifests and papers. They scent a 'fake,' and^ woe to the skipper who tries tricks with these alert and silent sentinels of Britain's power, "Quick, comprehensive, and judicial inspection is made of cargoes. Where d fair doubt exists we aa'e'lenient and soon release the suspect. In the case of trawlers—the North Sea is alive with these—the cargo can be examin- ed at once. But it is impossible pro- perly to inspect a big steamer with a»."„ large cargo in mid -ocean, especially in heavy weather. Contrabrand is often concealed in bales of hay, in casks and cases, in passengers' bag- gage, even in the mail's of neutral nations. "Blockade runners have been found - with hollow masts and trick decks for smuggling petrol and rubber. Great sheets of copper have been detected far under water, clamped to the keel." Crabapple Better.—Crabapple but- ter is slightly inferior to cider apple butter, but as crabapples are nearly always abundant and cheap it makes a welcome substitute in some years. Wash the crabapples well, cut them up without peeling or coring them; place them in a granite kettle, add en- ough water almost to coverthem and boil them slowly until they fall to pieces. Then press the crabapples through a granite colander, Add the pulp to the water in which the crabapples were cooked, and allow it to simmer until it is thick. Add en- ough sugar to sweeten the Butter, and if desired a little spice. Continue the boiling, with constant stirring, un- til the butter is perfectly smooth 'and of the right consistency; or, 0prefer- red, the cooking may be done in a stone crock in a slow oven. Not and Raisin Bread.—In bread mixer put two teaspoonfuls of salt, two tablespoonfuls of lard, three table. spoonfuls of molasses and one cupful each of scalded milk and boiling water. When lukewarm add one 'yeast cake dissolved in one-fourth cupful oe luke- Warm Water, one cupful bread flour and about five cupfuls entire wheat 0 flour, or enough to knead. Knead thoroughly, let rise until double in. bulk (about three hours), and agale a knead, working in three fourths cup- ful each of walnut meats and raisins cut in halves. Put in buttered pane, let rise again until double in buik, and bake one hour in a moderato oven. Chocolate Cafce.—One etrp of sugar, one tablespoon butter, ane cup sweet milk, one-half teaspoon soda dissolved in milk, one teaspoon baking powder, ono and one-half cups flour, three tablespoons cocoa, ane , teaspoon vanilla, Mix thoroughly and bake in Many a struggling company has been set on its legs by the war, but there is perhaps no mote remarkable instance than that of Levinstein, Lim- ited, the dye and color manufactuSors of Blackley, Manchester, says the London Chronicle. This company was formed in 1395, with a capital of £90,000, Not by any stretch of imagination could the company's pre-war record be called successful. The disappearance of German competition, however, brought about a great change, and for the year ended June 80, 1916, the com- pany made a net profit, after meeting all charges, .including d21,700 for de- preciation and wiping out, the goodwill and patent items in the balance sheet, of 280,000. I+ourteen and a half years' arrears of preference dividend were discharged, and 80 per cent, was paid on the ordinary share capital. There has been delay over the issue f the accounts for 1915-1910 owing to difficulties with the authorities over 1 t to amount of excess profits tax pay- ble by the eompany. But the profits are behaved to hare been prodigious, Already, ordinary shareholders- have received 80 per cent. in dividend in re- spect of the 1015-16 operations, and a further distribution is evidently ex- pected when the accounts make thole appearanee for the 210 ordinary shares, which at the outbreak of war stood at a very low figure, and, ins deed, were priteticelly eneaicablo, are now quoted in Manchester at 1176 apiece/ THE WILY HUN CAUGHT. Another Scheme of Germans to Escape From England. German prisoners and British sub- jects with conscientious or other scruples have been slipping out of England by shipping on the hiners as extras on the crew, assuming the name of some regular person, previously signed up, who steps aside in their favor for a consideration. This was made plain in the effort made to secure shore liberty for a German prisoner who shipped as stok- er on the White Star liner Adriatic under the regular man's name. The deception was detected before reach- ing port and the captain detained the German aboard as a stowaway, having gained passage by false pretence. The judge sustained the captain. It is said that this practice of es- caping from England has been work- ed with considerable success. The prisoner -fugitive on the Adri- atic was a German "journalist free lance," interned early in the war in England, and escaped a few weeks ago from the detention deep. He tools the position of a stoker named Far- rell, on the Adriatic, after being as- sisted by the "underground route" agentf said to exist in England for this and other purposes of service to Germany. FRENCH FAT. One of the Great Discoveries of the , War. To all of us who realize vividly the hardships to which our men are ex- posed in the trenches it le pleasant to hoar (Sir W. Robertson Nicoll writes) that one of the discoveries of the war is the efficacy of trench grease. It ap- pears that when the feet and logs are well rubbed with the grease that is liberally supplied to the man the cold and damp are robbed of a good deal of their terror. A young soldier who has had 15 months in the trenches, and is at the present moment or Ms way back to then, tells that on one occasion, on his way to his trench near 11'estubert, he got bogged in a swamp, and had to be pulled out by four of his comrades, who succeeded in ex-" triestint him, but at the expense of leaving his rubbers In the mud. As a result he had to put in four days in the wet trenches in his stockings. Thanks, however, to trench grease he was able to keep himself tolerably warm, and suffered no evil effects from the exposure. Not Really Popular. The definition of popularity as given by a salesman in a largo music store is one that may be applied to other things beside songs "Is this a popular song?" asked a young woman, holding up a sheet of music brilliantly decorated in red and gr. "Walieen, eo miss," said the salesman, assenting a judicial air, "I can't say ie as yet. Of course, lots of peon Pe are singing it, and overybady likoy it, but nobody''° get tired enougli of it yet for into be what greed rail a pope lar' song, miss," !