The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on November 20, 1895 · Page 5
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The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa · Page 5

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Algona, Iowa
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Wednesday, November 20, 1895
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,.* t ~: -- vj i'V,'—fCoxMSbfito.! Remainder of the afternoon was ••by the girls in unpacking their IV ahd choosing their dinner dress!;' Margaret's was a pale blue, chosen ><.Mrs. Garrett, at Marshall & Snell- [jtjve's—a charming color as contrasted 1th the girl's fair loveliness, but more' lited for a ball than a quiet family jfiihg. She looked very pretty, bjigh, as Carmen, arrayed in a black IBB ornamented with knots of scarlet &on, took her hand to lead her into }presence of,her uncle. Sir Fred- fc.was wandering without any appar- t aim, up and down the long library . H'he girls entered it. Before he saw Se'm" Margaret Had time to note the lid'benevolence ofhia aspect, and the JScislon with which ho, was attired, ||n though he was only about to dine til,a couple of school girls. He was jf'ttle man—straight, precise and neat fan old bachelor—with snow-white ir, delicate complexion, and pale blue is. Margaret was sure she would like ii very much.i As he caught sight of Jfgirls he advanced to meet them; but pVfalllng sight prevented his recog- I'ing more than their figures until ey,' were close to him. He embraced rmen more punctiliously than fer- Jtly, and Margaret instinctively felt fshe watched their greeting that Sir Jderlc could not forget his niece |pd in the place of Ms dead child, frhen he turned to the stranger. He 'been about to salute Margaret in t courteous manner as he had She'Carmen; but as his eyes fell upon ?£ figure he steppd backward and was lent. ^Uncle, this Is Mis3 O'Reilly," said rinen, in explanation, till Sir Frederic did not answer her, |f,feeling his way backward until he ached a chair, sank down into it and ||ed his handkerchief In a distressed |nner across his brow. I'Sir, are'you 111?" exclaimed Marga- Jf^ darting forward. He waved her ijm.him impatiently. flLeave him alone. He'll be better in |jriinute," whispered Carmen in her jend's ear, that there was complete silence jjotween them for the space of a few pnutes, whilst the girls stood togeth- Ipln the window, looking awkward, and |ir. Frederic bent over the table wiping lis brow. Then he rose, totteringly at Jfst, and begged their pardon for his eakness. am an old man, my dear child," he Hid, to Margaret, "and I have passed phrough much trouble and lost many Miends. Sometimes a strange voice, or ||ook, or expression recalls the past too lyividly and upsets me. I think it was ie* color of your hair that brought back piainful re<jollections«to my mind. It is very beautiful," he continued, passing pe glossy curjs through his fingers l/so'soft, and thick and heavy—just like Ke'rs—just like hers. But come," he paid,'a mpment later, "I think dinner lias been announced. Let us go in and this folly, I must grow acus- to the sight of your pretty hair 5y dear, so the sooner I commence the better," '"'He led the girls into the dining room a, he spoke, and no further allusion jjiras made to his past life. Carmen tolc ; afterward that Mrs, Webb bad |jlforn)ed.. her that her aunt Florence |4d possessed golden hair of extraor- pn'ary length and thickness, ifargaret thought that Carmen's pert d" forward manners rather grated on !•; Frederic's sensibility. He did no ?r, but every now and then, as f§ll upon his ear, he shud- h}s teeth had'been put on ,4, he''dismissed them for the ISjght he-a'sked Carmen.where she and --* r -'- - eiept, • "sleep together in the south !„<!$'that* advisable, my dear? There Aplenty ,of rooms on the opposit' j'yf always slept in it," yo,u;haye,. but I would ha,vi gtpry, if i^ph, we sfcall gp well enough; j'l yj|r eks -at h§r, <l rejptnea Qarjnen ji^cit) WB& §>Qp$Up [ered why hptft & 8J14 Mrs, Webt! Bb,o,ui4 wish, »j$jm$& ^W^t^v.h-v jHHfe*iMS*iP :jBtai like himself, of ths cfee&ef whispering to each othef; hew that they Swung thedi* elves dawn like nimble harlequins by he twisted tendrils of the vine; aaafl, hat the half-opened r&ses cnkn'gted flto lovely faces, and bowed tatcafd sach other in all the frolic df a fairy ourtshlp. Carmen, with the indolent, unlmag- native blood of her Spanish mother Balking slowly through her veins, had never Indulged In any such welrd-llko atttasles; she lay on her soft bed now, lumbering dreamlessly and dispassionately. But restless, agile Margaret wlsted .and turned, and'had composed i whole romance before she could per- Uade the god of sleep to visit her. How long he stayed she knew not, nor what subtle potion he had admlnls- ;ered to change all her lovely fairy Ireams to visions of the past life she so dreaded to remember. But groans and curses and cries of )aln, or so the girl imagined, mingled with her sleeping experiences, and she voke with the *full Sense of some com* ng horror on her mind. The room was wrapped in the peaceful repose In which ihe had seen it last; the flowers and eaves still shaded the unsheltered window; but what was that horrid face- white, flat and senseless—that was pressed close against one of the panes of glass? Was it a reflex of her uneasy dream? A remembrance only of some dreadful visage that had scowled tpon her when she was a poor, trembling little outcast, wandering in fear about the London streets? Margaret could not decide; but the sight she saw inspired her with terror. With a shriek of fear she sprang from her own bed to Carmen's, and succeeded at last in arousing that sleepy young lady to a consciousness of the cause of her alarm.' When she had once seen It, Carmen appeared as frightened, as herself, and, rushing out into the corridor, called loudly for Webb and then for "Mr. Brown." The last appeal was the most effectual, for before the housekeeper appeared upon the scene, a respectable- looking man in dressing gown and slippers, answered the young lady's call, and inquired the reason for it. Carmen told it to him, whispering rapidly in his ear; and the next moment he had entered the room they had vacated, and Mrs. Webb appeared to lead them to another. "What is It?" Inquired Magaret, trembling. "A ghost?". : "Lor" bless the child," began the housekeeper. "How should we have ghosts at,Abbotsville?" But Carmen stopped her. "Yes, it is a ghost! Why not speak the truth at once? Never mind, Maggie; don't shake so—we'll sleep xip- stairs for the future." 'You'd better come at once then," said Mrs. Webb, as sounds of scuffling and faint cries began to make themselves heard from the deserted room. "You won't go back there tonight, Miss Carmen, will you?—and you're both beginning to tremble with the fright and chill," The girls did not sleep in the south room again during their stay at Abbots- ville, and the remainder of their holidays was spent amongst the diversified pleasures of a country life. CHAPTER VI. UTHVEN was Jn what |s popularly called "a brown study," He had just received a letter from the Misses Prism, informing him that they had decided to retire from business, and must request him to remove his ward, Miss Margaret O'Reilly, from their care at the following, midsummer, They had added that having ' done their best to fit her for the society she was doubtless Intended to enter, they trusted Mr, Ruthven would be as well satisfied with the culture of her mind as he could not fall tp be with the grices of her person, And Ruthven did not know what on earth to do with her, Mrs, Garrett's accounts tallied so well 'with that of Miss Prism, that lie could not but believe they were correct; and n.ow was he to bring home this talented young person to the little house at Kensington, and ask her to sit down,' stairs }n ttie housekeeper's room? He would have handed her over at once to the care pf nis friend, Mrs, Pel* anj$ine, who would, have been eminent* ly suited, to prepare 1 fcer fpr the stage; tent, 'alas! popr Mrs the way of all flesh S^tfiiltttr t fe' -' Mttflii' *'i thought ah'e wag a housemaid when 1 last BaW h6r." 1 *W6il, htrtsgtaala 8f Ifidy^ W& all tins Saffle. Miss Mafgaf-et id a decent gal, find flbfte such WStild fag seen walking atJdflt with yoti," "TBaflkS let the comgllmeflV 1 cried the lad gaily, Me was but & lad still, though he would have beeti anything but pleaft«X to be told so, He was now nineteen, and reading steadily for his profession. Mrs. Garrett's dismay, when Ruthven asked her if Margaret eauld hot hav& hef meals downstairs with hef, Was comical to behold. "La, sif, do just go down and have a look at her yourself before you put such a question to me again. She mayn't be a lady bora— as Mr. Addiaon has It— but she's grown so much like one that nobody could tell the difference," Which speech perplexed poor &uth- ven more than ever. "Then you must fit up the back dining room for her, Garrett, and let her have her meals there until I can hear of a suitable opening for her. 1 never thought the girl would be BO much trouble, or I Would have had her educated in her own station in life." Margaret left Blackheath with very mingled feelings. She was sorry to part with Carmen Flower and other friends, but she was much comforted by the many invitations which were liberally showered upon her. And then she was ^ sixteen, and a woman, at all events in her own estimation, and curiosity was powerfully prompting her in a desire to see London again under more favorable auspices. , , r The town was ringing at that moment with praises of Ruthven's last drama, and Margaret had read some of the notices upon it, and tried to conjure up a memory of this mysterious benefactor of hers, who had adopted and brought her up without any motive but that of his. own benevolence. It was with considerable alacrity that Margaret appeared to accompany, Mrs. Garrett to Kensington. She was looking very lovely on that day. Excitement had lent an extra glow to her cheek and increased the brightness of her eye. 'it so happened that Ruthven was unusually late in. leaving home that afternoon— perhaps curiosity had also had a little to do with his loitering about the house— but as he stepped over the threshold, the cab, laden with luggage and containing Mrs. Garrett and her charge, drove up to the door. Ruthven went forward to assist the women to the ground. He expected to see a healthy, well-dressed and good-looking girl in Margaret O'Reilly, instead , of which, a graceful, slender form, tightly attired in the prevailing mOde, with a face of exquisite child-like simplicity, met his astonished view. "Is this Peg?" he exclaimed in astonishment. ; ' / .. "This Is Miss Margaret, sir," corrected the housekeeper sharply, as she drew out her purse to settle with, the cabman. ; 'Ruthven gazed at the young girl, who was looking up with two great limpid eyes Into his face, speechlessly. He thought he never before had seen such an incarnation of youthful womanhood, The sunny, luxuriant tresses were taken captive now and piled upon the top of her head; but the open, dewy mouth, the long eyelashes, the shy, half-veiled gaze, the delicate, rose-leaf complexion —all struck him for the moment dumb. "Hadn't you better take Miss Margaret in, Mr. James?" demanded Mrs, Garrett, in rather an acrid voice, "Yes, yes; cetainly. Won't you come In?" said Ruthven, B.Q: gae else ts wiwaj jje 'cpuia . tft,d^'|0,, •JJ te wake* ' bring- (TO BB CONTINUED.) MORGAN'S PROPOSED CASTLE. New York Financier to Erect a Mammoth Structure, ; J, Pierpont Morgan is qua of the greatest capitalists and financiers of the time, but hitherto he has not qared to dazzle the public by the splendor of his home and the extravagance of his style of living as denizens of Newport are fond of doing, Tho Morgans have occasionally visited Newport, but have evinced no desire to be known as arapng tne shining lights of that ultrafashionable ' city, Hltbertp Mr. Morgan has been completely wrapped up in his country place at Highland Falls, a pretty little hamlet on the Hudson, and has taken great delight in gplps to his business each day A»d returning at night on his steiiu yacht Corsair, Even the most intinv,vt» frie&ds of Mr, Morgan have never pupposed for _ moment that any inducement could be offered him to jive in Pny place outsi4e of Highland Falls or New York, But it is now announced that he interior building a handsome house at the great Rhode island resort, which will prpb» ably be |he equal Jn ejoga,nc9 pf any pf the costjy summer residences IJiere, EhfKlentiy Mr- M«Fsau »&4 his cannQt any longer resist the tejnpta io be jp the fashionable lag in times, fllgfiffi and their set apaH just one day out of the whole yeAf ttpdfi which they might conscientiously eat, eat, df ink and be meffy. Our years ate starred'with many holidays ia the present age, but as a aa- tloa we honor and celebrate most ttttaa* Imously th» Jay of thanksgiving and praise, which of late years has been appointed by the president as a general feast-day, to be held .simultaneously In all the states. Formerly, each governor decided on a day for his state, without regard for the selection of other states. There are families who still, in remembrance of their Puritan ancestors, serve dishes that might be called historical, and to still farther recall our country's past, they^serve the dinner on that one day when the sun Is high In the heavens, Instead of .waiting, as usual, until long after the daylight IB gone. The prominent and inevitable dish that no housekeeper omits from her SOUP-TUREEN. menu on Thanksgiving day Is roast turkey. One need hardly give directions for its cooking, for everybody knows hOw it Is done. It was America which gave the dish to England originally, but England has taught'us sorno very nice ways of cooking the "noble bird." From that country we have received the idea of using forcemeat to give flavoring to the stuffing; also of garnishing the dish with forcemeat balls in sufficient numbers to allow of one being served with 1 every plateful of turkey. These balls, which are nearly akin to sausages, are cooked on the pan with the turkey. They are made of two parts of raw lean beef, one part of pork or veal and one part of the fat of salt pork, and bound by mixing with one-fourth their bulk of bread crumbs, chopped fine and molded Into balls. As the cooking progresses, the fat tried out from the pork Is used to baste the turkey. Here let it be said that'frequent basting is one of the vital points of success in roasting. Another traditional dainty dedicated to the day Is chicken pie. Like every other good thing, it differs in kind. Each housewife has her own way of making it, and the result is not the same in every case, unfortunately for the partakers. To make a satisfactory old-fashioned pie, take a pair of tender chickens of the current year. Upon 'less festive days, more ancient fowls may be used, but tradition demands the best for this occasion. Cut the chickens up into convenient pieces. Then cut all the lean meat from two pounds ol breast of veal. Boll the bones of the veal with the neck and gizzard of the chickens in three pints of water; the water should be cold when the scraps are put in, then left on the back of the stove to simmer slowly until reduced to one-half its quantity. The veal, cut up into small bits, is laid upon the bottom of a deep baking dish; the pieces of chicken, after being skimmed, are laid over the veal. Broken-up forcemeat balls and extremely thin slices of salt pork are put over the top, One cupful of soup stock, or cold water if there is no stock, is poured in. Put a strip of thinly-rolled pastry all around the edge of the dish, sticking It on with cold water and turning the upper edge over the rim, Cover the whole pie with thick, rich pie-crust, cutting out small diamonds or circles near the middle, to allow the escape of the gas generated . ftifenlHS ttrt'.tff, MRS' tfrlnlfig'S « Bl 463 ptit!F !fi 'fnf llqilot. « Soiling the gtolSti atrS tro%tt, ves whln'ttS aiftfief- tt'l b? MW'oTStlfir&Sesfdlaf t8 modes, Ifl deferflfi£ to old twste&is tits?; sh&tiJd apfteaf during ths JeaSt al'S Ml: dish, Rigid reviviiistd insist,«in thelf being served i& the shell; of a§ a neater way of fsfesentiag theffl, stewed 6f' steamed Itt butter fof & few meffientS aftef being opened, goffletlmea this Is dbfae with great sUcfceSS upott a chafing* dish at thfe tabl6< ¥h§,8ySt§ffl, Wnlch should be large,' are laid itt tne balllfig buttef, covered and left fof five Mlfiutss at- until the edges ctirl The light li' then extinguished, a glass of wine, a teaepoonful of leffiott juice, pepper and Salt and a, spoonful Of horse-radish added and well stirred in, and then the oysters, can be laid'upon half slices of buttered toast and,served, Cranberry sauce Is an inevitable ao- eompanlment of ah orthodox Thanksgiving dinner, Every cook says she can make It, but I find few who do not spoil it. To succeed, first wash the berries, then put them on the fire with only a half cupful of water to two cup« fuls of berries; let them cook slowly, crushing the berries with a wooden spoon after they grow tender, When they are done, put in sugar until they are pleasantly sweet. As soon as the sugar melts thoroughly, take them from the fire, as cooking with the sugar la them makes the berry-skins tough. Mince, pumpkin and apple pies all belong especially to Thanksgiving dinner, and there are persons who do not think the day righteously spent unless the memory of their ancestors is perpetuated by finishing the dinner with the old-fashioned bread-cake, or "rising-cake," as some call It. "Barm- cake" IB a still older name for the old colony delicacy. In the White House, Mrs. Madison "always offered the cake to her guests on Thanksgiving. Her recipe was 100 years old even then. Probably it was the evolution of the precious seed-cake of the early settlers. In those days the sugar was rare and precious, and the raisins worth their weight in gold. As handed down to the present generation, the rule for raised cake orders that a gill of yeast be stirred into three gills of milk. Into this is slowly mixed ten ounces of butter creamed with one pound of sugar, a pound and a half of flour and four eggs. The correct method, I believe, is to work half of these ingredients into the milk and yeast and leave the mixture to rise all night. In the morning, if the, dough is properly lightened, work in the remainder, beating the batter very thoroughly. One cupful of seeded raisins and half a cupful of currants are then well floured and stirred in. For flavoring, our foremothers used, such spices as their si en. der resources allowed. Some of their younger and more flippant housekeepers, it is to be feared, if records are to be trusted, added a small wine-glassful of New England rum burned to giva , A.lttMto 6f fftff ift^elttfll t&t dlaf^ais hfive beea wniltts, «f Ity ffott genefal aad . speeifle \ea cover iHf i'5efl«d "d! 6f the ree6M very Hit»f6tigfc f la 86tiffiates-- tlish eeuntieg, utf» tffom Ws tables, with heavy bladk eoIiimfiB,- length aecordihg'to ihe, mortality, it is sho.wfi t from 1660 to 16?0 the rate at Mftftftl from fevers alone war 876 fc persons. In 1 1888 it was but than fifty times less, the shows greatest between i BUTTHE-DISH. It a resemblance to the brandy so freely used in the cookery of the mother- country. The Heritage of Thanksgiving, Our songs are sweetest for the songs they lifted, Our praises higher for their praises given; And though the firelight show tliejr vacant places, Heart cleaves to heart, in bonds of song unrlven. So at the feasts when some will mlsa our faces, Qu; notes from far-off days will meet their own; The past and the present in one chorus blending « To swell Thanksgiving hymns around the Throne! —George T, Packard? THB FATE OF THE) GREEDY TURKEY. then a considerable decrease "followed 1 fy from 1831 to 1840, after which it.re-j mained about stationary throught 18'41p to 1871, showing slight change to 1888.'', Similar progress is indicated, for eoa4 sumption, but greater for smallijokh The latter disease Itilled 602 perionsln^ . every 100,000 just previous to '^Tenner's' »'»;M^ discovery, in 1780. In 1885'th'ere waft 1 ;§ij only 9 deaths from smallpox toMOO,ObOr,"J|r| A remarkable decrease,is indicated al<|''^ so for all general causes. > In. 1679,.tha^.^' rate stands at 80 deaths for every 1»00(>>< ] inhabitants, and diminishes'tp.lM'In! 1 J^ 1888 in London. ; , * The greatest progress has been made, • of course, since sanitation became'.^;, science, and increasing advancement •!B|< shown when people have learned Jthafe^T the adoption of its , measures '' savies'Ji money. In most states the maximumvtjq value of a man's life is put at .?6.0pd 'i'Jjjp and the minimum $1,000,for damagesO'gj William Farr, in his cold calculations^*'*^ of mortality and loss, estimated the." life! j^^p of an English farm laborer at'$l,200\aWd^Y\Tj|j a woman's about $500 less.' < ' .,'J, ^^ These figures are too low for'Amerl-j can labor, and decidedly, low for a large^j portion of the middle class. For illtts-J^ tration, however, the conservative flg-ljt'j! ure $1,000 is generally '' used., ' 'Thist f Afe amount multiplied by the death rate'of: ?8t| a given place gives the 'approximate, \'il| loss to that community. This doeB,ndtl' 'v^j Include loss from slckn'ccs, which,pome'' «OT statisticians estimate on a basis, of ^n['$«?|' ! or twelve cases to'every death,,,; ^''U^lll In small towns, where sanitary inea8 : J >j'M ures have not been generally-adopte'dj' ;u Vis and a proper sewerage system ia',un-^\'4:| known, barring epidemies,'the number Yf^ of deaths yearly has generally averaged^'^^ti 4 to 7 per ,10,000 population. .Taking' 1 'J]| the money value of each life at $1,000 V"?t| the amount of loss to the town is ob-' s 'I- 'j| vious. ' '.'."> ''*'-« MME. -PAQUERETTE'S D'ONKEY.|',-<iji • ' ( , tif^ •T* j (' * ~* $J£i tie Had a Cabin All to Himself ou La[' V;S Touralrio— Duty Remitted. "\ !'$,')! On the French line steamship! La'^"/F^ Touralne, v whlch arrived in New, York; /"/^ the other day from Havre, was a llttld; ^ passenger who had a cabin all, by bim-j fy self, although his name wasn't down'on!, the passenger list. He is an acrobatic donkey, and belongs to Mme, Paquer-' ette, who, with her husband, will ap-| pear at Tony Pastor's theater to-morroy» evening. Donkeys are dutiable under' Uricla, Sam's laws, and maybe that is the reason why Mme. Paquerette said she val-j ued the little fellow at $10, i Of course she wouldn't sell him for that, although! in France, perhaps, an ordinary donKeyj of his size may be bought for $10, The duty on this amount of donkey IB much more than.a dollar, and BO customs officers permitted Paquerette's. pet to come,' ' in free. Everybody on the ship' was in Jove with the animal, .He' appeared on Thursday in th,e saloon of the ship in a concert given for,,tne" eflt of the French and American men's societies,, Mme.'Paquerette'role' into the saloon on the donkey/s'bagk; 'J "• ^i f^V, 3*. 'Vyj| \'f f fe California has produced a scented violet the ei?e of a'lajpg^ _ Tn,e orthpdpx Hebrews flate,frojn' creation, which even^" they'place ia, year B, C, 3760, ( ,'..'.' \ ^- & <(,/; According,tP tjie eomputfttHoji °AtKv. Russian pn'ronploslsts/- the , creatiQB'n nnlr nlono T) /"! KKrtH , '. • l???'- \t Russian took place B, 0. 5508. The tendency in England is toward stairs in favor of was .allusion to tne' <J?pt& Us 'cQgst, The, ; peach blosspja' by a YQte et'thf '1ph09V Q Pel&ware «g tjje HQrsl e,jnblem,;'pf $$k% state., , , ;,'. v", vtl'tJ-H A ftQt hath,,witji 9P WJUb81^W£W 0«ttv9 ana s Wv Jte Uw ^rty ugtSd. It ,i| Jejt tl^'ll'BMp n^^' ', '. ' r'.'^ViWljD «»e si " 4 """ ;p^i:p^f ?: ? ,J:i<.»fci.>s/.»i-s perfume' your

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