( I $J.oo a Year, In Advance. " FOR GOD, FOR COUNTRY, AND f OI TRUTH." Single Copy, $ Centa. VOL. X V. PLYMOUTH, N, C, FRIDAY, OCTOBER 28, 1904. NO. 32 f THE HAPPIEST HEART- The happiest heart is i'lmple, , None dares to call it wise; It seeg the beauty- of its life With frank and truthful eyes; It has a knack of loving, It has a trustful way Oh, what a foolish heart is this, v. . The worldlier people eay! By C. A. r5fcU5J I AT was what we used to J call it nt the old home O I O farm "mug-bread," the j( best bread ever made. (, .VOW When made and baked just right it is a delicacy. But the making and the baking of it are not easy and a failure with mug-bread is something awful. Perhaps the reader may not know It as mug-bread, for that was a local name, confined largely to our own Maine homestead and vicinity. It has been called milk-yeast bread, patent bread, milk-emptyings bread and salt rising bread; and it has also been stigmatized by several opprobrious and offensive epithets, bestowed, I am told, by irate housewives who lacked the skill and genius to make It. We named it mug-bread because grandmother started it in an old por celain mug; a tall, white, lavender-and-gold banded mug, that held more than a quart, but was sadly cracked, and, for ' safety's sake, was wound just above the handle with fine white silk eord. That mug was ixty-eight years old, and that silk cord had been on it since 3S42. Its familiar kitchen name was "Old Hannah." I suspect that the interstices of. this ancient silk string were the lurking places of that delight ful yeast microbe that gave the flavor to the bread. For there was rarely a failure when that mug was used. About once in four days, generally at night, grandmother would take two tablespoonfuls of cornmeal, ten of boiled milk and half a teaspoonful of salt, mix them well in that mug, and set it on a low mantel shelf, behind the kitchen stove funnel, where it would keep uniformly warm overnight. She covered in the top of the mug with an old tin coffee pot lid, which just fitted it. When we saw Old Hannah go tip there, we knew that some mug-bread was incubating, and, if all worked well, would be due the following afternoon for supper. For you cannot hurry mug-bread. The next morning, by breakfast time, a peep into the mug would show whether the little "eyes" had begun to open and peep up out of the mixture or not. Here was where housewifely skill came in. Those eyes must be opened just so wide, and there must be just so many of them, or else it was not safe to proceed. It might be better to throw the setting away and start new, or else to let it stand till noon. Grandmother knew as soon as slie had looked at it. If the omens were favorable, a cup of warm water and a variable quantity of carefully warmed flour were added, and a batter made of about the consist ency for fritters. This was set behind the funnel again, to rise till noon. More flour was then added and the dough carefully worked and set for a third rising. About 3 o'clock it was put in tins and baked in an even oven. The favorite loaves with us were 'cart-wheels," formed by putting the dough in large, round, shallow tin plates, about a foot In diameter. When baked, the yellow-brown, crackery loaf was only an inch and a half or two inches thick. The rule at grandmoth er's table was a "cart-wheel" to a boy, with all the fresh Jersey butter and canned fruit or berries that he wanted with it. Sometimes, however, the mug would disappear rather suddenly in the morn ing, and an odor as of sulphureted hy drogen would linger about, till the kitchen windows were raised and the fresh west wind admitted. That meant that a failure had oc curred; the wrong microbe had ob tained possession of the mug. The happiest heart is childlike. It never quite grows old ; It sees the sunset's splendor As it sow the dawning's gold; It has a gift for gladness, Its dreams die not away Oh, what a fooliah, happy heart, The worldlier people say! -llipley D. Saunders, in St. Louis Republican. STEPHENS In such cases grandmother acted promptly and said little. She was al ways reticent concerning mug-bread. It had unspeakable contingencies. Our girl cousins, Ellen and Theodora, who lived at the old homestead with us, shared grandmother's reticence. Ellen, in fact, could never be persuaded to eat it, good as it was. - "I know too much about it," she would say. "It isn't nice." Beyond doubt, when mug-bread goes astray at about the second rising the consequences are depressing. If its iittle eyes fail to open and the batter takes on a greasy aspect, with a tendency to crawl and glide about, no time should be lost Open all the win dows at once and send the batter promptly to the swill-barrel. It is use less to dally with it. You will be sorry if you do. When it goes wrong it is utterly depraved. I remember an experience which Theodora and Ellen had with mug bread on one occasion, when grand mother was away from home. Aunt Nabbie and Uncle Pascal Mowbray came on from Philadejphia, while she and grandfather were gone. Aunt Nabbie was grandmother's sis ter, and she and Uncle Mowbray had been talking all that season of coming to visit us. But September had usually been spoken of as the time they were coming. They changed their minds, however. Uncle Pascal desired to look after some business venture of his in Portland, and decided to come in August. It was a somewhat sudden change of plan, but they sent us a letter the day before they started, thinking that we should get it and meet them at the rail way station. Now, all dear city cousins, aunts, uncles, and the rest of you who visit your country relatives, winter or sum mer, hear me! Do not hold back your letter telling them you are coming till the day before you start. Nine times out of ten they will not get It. You will get there before the letter does, and the chances are that you will have to provide your own transportation for the six or ten miles from the railway station to the farm and you will think that distance longer than all the rest of the journey. Most likely, too, you will find the farmer gone to a grange meeting; and by the time you have sat round the door on your trunk till he gets back at sunset, you will be homesick and may. be hungry. Also for there are two sides to the matter your country brother and his wife will be troubled about it. So send j-our letter at least a week ahead. The first we knew of the coming of Uncle rascal and Aunt Nabbie, they drove into the yard with, a livery team from the village; and an express wagon was coming on behind with their trunks. Besides uncle and aunt, there was a smiling, dark-haired youth with them, a grand-nephew of Uncle Mowbray, named Olin Randall, whom we had heard of often as a kind of third or fourth cousin, but had never seen. He had never beheld Maine before, and was regarding everything with curiosity and a little grin of conde scension. That grin of his nearly upset us, particularly Ellen and "Doad," who for a hundred reasons wished to make a very favorable impression on Uncle and Aunt Mowbray ftnd all the family. I nearly forgot to mention that Uncle Mowbray was reputed very fussy and particular about his food. Grandfather and grandmother "had set off that morning to attend a confer ence meeting eighteen miles away, at Turner, and were not coming back till the next day at night a thing they would no more have done had they known Aunt Nabbie was coming thaa they would have set sail for Australia. That visit had been looked forward to for five years. Out two-story farmhouse was com fortable and big, and we had plenty of everything; but of course it was not al together like one of the finest houses in Philadelphia. For Uncle Mowbray was a wealthy man, one of those thrifty, prosperous Philadelphia mer chants of the era ending with the Civil War. He never let a dollar escape him. They came just at dusk. We boys were doing the chores. The girls were getting supper. Theodora had resolved to try her hand at a batch of mug-bread for the next day, and had set Old Hannah up for it. The unexpected arrival upset us all a good deal, particularly Ellen and Dora, who had to bear the brunt of grandmother's absence, get tea, see to the spare , rooms, and do everything else. Uncle Mowbray looked a little glum. He was tired, I suppose, and disap pointed to find the older people away. And then there was Olin, mildly grin ning. His presence disturbed the girls worse than everything else. But Aunt Nabbie smoothed away their anxieties, and helped to make all comfortable. We got through the evening better than had at first seemed likely, and in the morning the girls rose at five and tried vto hurry that mug-bread along, with other things, so as to have some of it for dinner, for they found that they were short of bread. Ellen, I believe, thought that they, had better not attempt the risky experi. nient, but should start some hop-yeast bread. Theodora, however, peeped Into the old mug, saw encouraging eyes 1r it and resolved to go on. They mixed it up with the necessary warm water and flour and set it carefully back for the second rising. Terhaps they had a little hotter fire than usual, perhaps they had hurried it a shade too much, or well, you can "perhaps" anything you like with milk-yeast bread. At all events, it took the wrong turn and began to per fume the kitchen. If they had not been hard pressed and a little hurried that morning, the girls would probably have thrown it out. Instead, they took it down, saw that it was rising a little, and hoping that it would yet pull through worked in more flour and soda, and hurried four loaves of it into the oven to bake. Then it was that the unleavened turpitude of that microbe displayed the full measure of its malignity. A hor rible odor presently filled the place. Stale eggs would have been Araby the Blest beside it. The girls hastily shut the kitchen doors, but doors would not hold it in. It captured the whole house. Aunt Nabbie, in the sitting room, per ceived it, and came rushing out to give motherly advice and assistance. And it chanced that while Theodora was confidentially explaining it to her, the kitchen door leading to the front piazza opened, and in walked Uncle rascal, and Olin behind him. They had been out in the garden, looking at the fruit, and had come back to get Aunt Nabbie to see the bees. When that awful odor smote them they stopped short. Uncle Mowbray was a fastidious man. He sniffed and turned up his nose. "Is it sink spouts?" he gasped. "Are the traps out of order?" "No, no, Pascal!" said Aunt Nabbie, in a low tone, trying to quiet him. "It is only bread." "Bread!" cried Uncle Mowbray, with a glance of rank suspicion at the two girls. "Bread smelling like that'" Just then Ellen discovered something white which appeared to be mysteri ously increasing in size in the shadow on the back of the kitchen stove. After a glance she caught open the oven door. "It was that mug-bread dough! It had crawled crawled out of the tins into the oven crawled down under the oven door to the kitchen floor, where it made a viscous puddle,, and was now trying, apparently, to crawl out of sight under the woodbox. ' Aunt Nabbie burst out laughing; she could not help it. Then she tried to turn Uncle Mowbray out. But no, he must stand there and talk about it. He was one of those men who are always peeping round the kitchen, to see if the women are doing things right. But Olin scudded out after one look, and the girls saw him under the Balm of Gilead tree, shak nig and laughing as if he would split. Poor Doad and Nell! That was a dreadful forenoon for them. As youth ful housekeepers, they felt themselver disgraced beyond redemption. In threr years they had not recovered from it and would cringe when any one re minded them of Uncle Mowbray an? the mug-bread. Youth's Companion. DREAM SERVED AS A WARNING. Premonition of Danger Undoubtedly Saved a Life. One of the most striking instances of a warning dream was the story nar rated of the late Lord Dufferin, which is, to the best of our knowledge, quite well authenticated. Lord Dufferin was staying at a coun try house in Ireland ; and early one morning he heard, or dreamed he heard, a sound of wheels approaching the main entrance. He naturally hur ried to the window to see what was afoot; and was not unnaturally sur prised to see a hearse drawn up be fore the door of the mansion. He especially noted the driver's face a very unpleasant one of a smooth pasty complexion. He concluded that a ser vant must have died suddenly and that the coffin was being removed at this unusual hour in order to cause no shock to any of the guests in the house. As nothing wa3 said about the mat ter in the morning, he made up his mind that he had dreamed the whole affair, as was probably the case. Lord Dufferin naturally thought no more of the matter until one day, during his residence in Paris, when he had occasion to visit a friend in one of the large hotels, and approached the ele vator to be conveyed to his friend's landing. -What was his horror on recogniz ing in the elevator attendant the hearse driver of his vivid dream! De clining to use the elevator, he left the hotel, and shortly afterwards he heard that the same day the elevator had broken down, and the sinister attend ant was among the killed. ' Subse quent inquiries revealed the fact that there had certainly been no nocturnal visit of a hearse to the Irish mansion. Blew Taps at Grant's Burial. The Fourth Cavalry Band at Fort Riley claims the oldest enlisted man in the United States Army. is Sergeant Hardy, a trumpotsr, who has been in the army thirtysix consecu tive years. That ha is retained be yond the age limit fixed by law is due to a special act ct Congress permit ting him to remain in the army. Ser geant Hardy was the trumpeter who blew "taps" at the burial of Presi dent Grant. :. The Journal is reminded of another man who has been in Uncle Sam's, service far beyond the limit fixed by law. In 1900 Gov. Stanley and the party sent to meet the 20th Kansas at San Francisco were entertained on the battleship Iowa one day. The party were on the top of the turret with Captain Goodrich when a stcop shouldered, slouchy-looking man moved along the deck below, appar ently grumbling at all sailors and ma rines who got in his way. His coat sleeves were marked with gold braid (service stripes) half way to the shoulder. "Who is that?" asked one of the party. "Why," said Captain Goodrich, laughing, ' that is the real commander of the ship. At any rate, I believe that he considers me as a more cr less superfluous figurehead." And then the captain explained that th old fellow was a boatswain, the highest non-commissioned officer in the navy. "He is a type cf th.cld seadog now almost 'extinct," contin ued the orrieer. "11.3 has the same relation to a ship's cr2w that a first sergeant has to a company In the army. Hi was with Farragut at Mo bile Bay. He is retained In thevnavy by reason cf his exceptional skill-in gun practice and his ability to train a gun crew.H Kansas City Journal, Many Millions of Stars. It has been stated that, .with long exposures 134,000,f 00 stars can be photographed. Chaeornac has comput ed that with a telescope of great pow er the aggregate number visible in the whole sky is 77,000,000. Proctor said that in Lord Rosse's great telescope at least 1,000,000,000 stars would be vis ible if they conld be counted. The lat ter estimate is probably excessive and we may conclude that approximately there are 100,000,000 stars in the sky. ANTIDOTES FOR POISONS. Knowledge That May Be Useful in Case of Accidents. As any member of the family may take poison by mistake, the following list of poisons and their antidotes ought to be kept where it may be Immediately referred to in case of an accident of this kind: Carbolic Acid: Sweet oil, melted lard, or castor oil. Alcohol, in doses of from one to two ounces, may be given with good results, if given im mediately after swallowing the acid. Tincture of Iodine: Flour or starch water, drink all the stomach will re tain, if much, iodine has be'en swal lowed. Opium or Morphine: Black eoffee, in full doses; keeping the patient awake if possible. Phosphorus from Matches: Magne sia in large amounts. Paris Green and Arsenic: Lime water, white of egg, milk. In all cases administer the antidote freely. An emetic may be given if the pa-. tient is seen early. A tablespoonful or two of ground mustard in a half pint of warm water answers well for this purpose. In every instance of poisoning a physician should be sum moned; the above suggestions are of fered to help before his arrival. In making poisonous disinfecting solutions some coloring matter should be added to distinguish the solutioa from plain water. A little indigo will answer well for this purpose. A 1 to 100 solution of corrosive sublimate (bichloride of mercury) is made hj adding a half ounce of the chemical to four gallons of soft water. This solution should he kept In glass or earth containers, as metals destroy lis disinfectant properties, and the container will also be injured by chemical action. . Some of the most dangerous chronic diseases are so insidious in their on set as to easily reach an advanced stage before being recognized. Any, persistent pain, or discomfort, should always be a sufficient cause for a thorough physical examination by a physician. F. W. St. John, M. D., in Farm Journal. The Rue-Anemone. Under an oak tree in a woodland, where The dreaming1 spring had dropped it from her hair, I found a flower, through which I seemed to gaze Beyond the world and see what no man dare Behold and live the myths of bygone days: Diana and Endymion and the bare Slim beauty of the boy whom Echo wooed, And Hyaclnthus, whom Apollo dewed , With love and death, and Daphne, ever fair. And that reed-slender girl whom Pan pursued. I stood and gazed, and through it seemed The Dryad's feet dance by the forest tree. Her hair wild blown; the Faum, with listening ear, Deep in the boscage, kneeling one knee. Watching the wandered Oread draw near. Her wild heart beating like a honey bee Within a rose all, the myths of old. All. all the bright shapes of the ag f gold. Peopling the wonder worlds of poetry. Through it I seemed in fancy to behold. What other flower that, fashioned like a. star. Draws its frail life from earth and braves, the war Of all the heavens, can suggest the dreams That this suggests, in whom no trace of mar Or soil exists: where stainless Inno cence seems Enshrined, and where, beyond our Tlsion- f 3F That 'inaccessible beauty which the heart Worships as truth and holiness and art is symbolized; wherein embodied are The things that make the soul's im mortal part? Lipplncotf b. Reckon We'll Git Thar Yit. He wuz always a-sayin', when troabl-. come roun', "I reckon we'll get thar yit! Ain't enough rain lor a lily to drown Reckon wo'll git thar yit! Its; jest human natur' to growl an com- ,-' plain; .aVhe have sunshine than oceans ' d fain: v it spite o wiia weatner, lm teinn you plain. Reckon well git thar yitl" An' we carried that counsel the rougn way along "Reckon we'll git thar yit!" It lightened the burden made sorrow song "Reckon we'll git thar yit!" He wuz only a toiler in bloom an In blight. With Hope's star a-shinin", full blaze, in his sigh I: Sut he locked u. ho light, friends h looked to the Mt;ht "Reckon we'll git thar yit!" -Frank LJi.'.r.toa in Atlanta Constitution. When holiness is all nonsense to a man honesty Is apt to be all moonshine.

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