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DETROIT, NOV. 21, 1891.

 

THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

NOVEMBER.

 

Like some fair woman who hath lost youth’s
charm,
Yet holds within her heart all goadly gifts.
November comes—worn pale by storm‘s alarm.
Borne down by clouds. yet showing thro‘ their
rifts
Some hint of heaven’s blue and sunshine’s glow
Ere falls to earth her mantle soft of snow.

What matters then tho” hill and vale are bare?
She clothes them in a dainty garb of white:
Hangs every shrub with icy jewels rare,
And fills the land With echoes of delight
From merry sleighbells, and the rhythmic beat
Upon the frozen road of flying feet.

80 comes Thanksgiving Day—as it should come-—
Wilh cheerfulness and joy. and ringing bells;
With dear ones gathered round the hearth of

home.
While thro’ the land a happy chorus swells
Which speaks a Nation‘s praise to God above.
In thankfulness for His protecting love!
—La-di*s‘ Home Jaw/ml.

______...——-———-

LA CZARINA.

 

I fell in love with Rhea ten years ago,
and‘am still faithful. Ten years is a
long time for one woman to admire an-
other. Perhaps that I still adore is due
to the fact that we, the noted French
actress and the humble newspaper
woman, meet but seldom—not oftener
than once a year, sometimes not even
as frequently, and that, being of non-
loquacious temperment, I let the actress
do all the talking. I have never ven-
tured to seek occasion to express my
admiration personally, for Mademoi-
selle is reported to have a temper “cut
on the bias and ruliied ” toward those
she does not happen to fancy, and like
“ Aunt Hitty.” “ I jest dassent resk it.”

And so, after seeing Rhea as Beatrice
the willful in “-Much Ado About Noth-
ing,” as Adrienne Lecouvier, and a
couple of times as Josephine, I was
still anxious to see her as Catherine
in “La Czarina,” the new play she has
put upon the stage this season. Thus
it was that one of those dismal evenings
last week, when one’s umbrella fairly
scraped the fringes of the clouds and
the rain was very, very wet, I made one
of the discouragmgly small audience
at the Detroit Opera House, feeling,
“After this, the delugel”

The play is based upon certain char—
acteristics of Peter the Great, and
Catherine, first his mistress, then his
wife, and after his death Catherine I.
of Russia. Peter had a jealous, sus-
picious, passionate temper, utterly un-

governable in his fits of rage. In a
passion, he would order his dearest
friend, his most trusted confident, to
Siberia or the scaffold with as much
good will as he would sentence his bit-
terest enemy. His people feared but
did not love him; he knew and re-
sented it, calling them ungrateful. lie
founded the city of St. Pctersburg in
the marshes of the Neva, at a terrible
cost of human life and treasure, that
Russia might have a maritime port.
and would not allow the river to be
bridged that his people might be com-
pelled to learn how to manage boats.
He had ever a covetous eye to the South,
longing to possess the seas that should
give his country a coast and commerce.
Being imperfectly civilized himself—-
a typical Russian Bear—he attempted
to civilize a barbarous nation by force.
He projected and carried out great re-
forms, but was unwilling his subjects
should exercise their newly awakened
intelligence in independent thought.
He was furiously jealous of Catherine
and surrounded her with spies—but
conjugal constancy was not Catherine’s
chief virtue; it is quite possible that he
had some cause for suspicion.

The curtain lifted upon a tale. a tale
between Villerbeck, an admiral of the
Russian navy. and Count Sapieha (it
might have been spelled Sappy and
would have fitted just as well) in a room
in the palace at Peterhofi’. Though
the walls of palaces have ears, the two
were discussing the Czar. As amark
of imperial favor, Villerbeck tells
Sapieha that a court position is about
to be oii’ered him, and the admiral can-
not conceal his astonishment when
Sapieha announces his purpose of de-
clining it. “What, refuse the Czar!”
which he evidently considers at once
the height of temerity and folly. What
can be his reasons for such a manifest
daring of the Czar’s anger and the
goddess of Fortune? Sapieha expresses
some uncomplimentary views regard-
ing the Little Father, but when Viller-
beck presses him still further confesses
he is in love with the Czarina, and flies
to escape the unhappiness of unre-
quited passion. Villerbeck warns him
of the danger of such an avowal, but
Sapieha reminds him they are friends
and he trusts his honor, and the Ad-
miral vows he will never betray his

 

 

doesn't know what he may do when he‘s
drunk—which his nose indicates to be
a somewhat frequent occurrence. The
Czarina enters, beautifully dressed in a
white gold-cmhroiden‘d bodice and
skirt, with rose colored brocade court
train: and it cannot be Junie-l that in
such roles Rhea looks every inch the
queen. Face, figure. carriage, all con--
vey the idea of regal dignity. Her
favorite. Olga. daughter of Prince-
)Ienzikoii—thn prime ministers—and
her lalies attend her. Olga is very
much in love with Sapiclia. who res-
cued her from drowning one day or
the Neva. when her coachmau was too
drunk to control his horses. Sapieha
has “a way” with himgallthc ladies
are in love with his handsome self, and
he very much in love with the chief of
them all and that same handsome self.
He begs, by letter, permission to pay
his adieux to her Majesty, who (naughty
thing) grants him that privilege at l0
o‘clock in her boudoir.

While this is going on )ienzikoff
finds out Olga loves an unknown
stranger who rescued her from death
and with a prime minister‘s arro-
gances, promises she shall marry him.
But when he discovers, as he does,
that Sapieha loves the Czar’s wife, he
requests Olga to kindly love some one
else, which wornan-like,‘ she imme-
diately decides she can never, never do.

All things are in train for the lovers‘
meeting when the curtain rises for the
second act upon Catherine‘s boudoir.
which she and Olga share together;
The latter is dismissed, and as the
chimes ring ten the Count surmouuts
the balcony and enters. Catherine ad-
mits she loves him, reminds him the.
faintest suSpicion would cost them both
their heads, yet begs him to accept the
Czar‘s favor and remain at court that
she may at least see him sometimes. A
step is heard upon the balcony stairs, a
moment’s awful suspense and the step
is heard at the door. Sapieha dings it
aside, seizes the intruder and throws
him headlong over the balcony—to
judge by the clatter and makes his
escape while the household and the
guards gather round the thOi-Oughly

 

 

frightened Czarina, and down goes the,
curtain.

The Czar has come home. He is 'm
.3 truly imperial temper and storms

secret—when he’s sober; but says he ' like an old woman on washing-day. He

 


 
  
 
 
 
    
  

The Household.

 
 

 

snubs his prime minister and orders a

few of the imperial household to

Siberia as a preliminary to more

serious business. The Turkish am-

bassador has arri red during his absence
and Catherine has ordered a ball t) be
given in his honor. The Czar at once
argues the Czarina and the ambassador
have an understanding. He .has
ordered Jakinsky. officer of the guard,
tokeep an an exact record of every
occurrence, however trifling, during
his absence. The row on the balcony
awakens the keencst interest. Who
was the intruder? Could it have been
the Turk? All his cunning goes to
unraveling this mystery. Finally
Villerbcck, yet half dazed from ade-
Bauch, is sent for fora report. Think-
ing the Czar has learned of his escapade,
for he it was who had stumbled upon
the balcony, he confesses, pleading in
extenuation that he was drunk. “ Who
threw you down the stairs?“ “I can-
not tell, your majesty; I was very
drunk.” Just when he expects an order
to set out immediately to Siberia. the
Czar turns gracious and says “I for-
give Villerbeck; he was drunk.” and
exerts himself to find the more guilty
offender who assailed the admiral.
Jakinslry shows him a seal found after
the altercatiou which bears Sapieha's
arms, and the puzzle is solved. Still,
fora time, the Czar does not connect
Sapieha with the Czarina; He calls
the Count to him and accuses him of
being the bold intruder. Confronted
with the tell-tale evidence of the seal
Sapieha cannot deny; to save the
Gzarina he sacrifices Olga, claiming it
was she he went to meet. The Czar
orders the Count to Warsaw imme-
diately, but on the entrance of the
Warinaand Olga and her father, he
wins from the blushing demoiselle,
who has no inkling of what has trans-
pired, or of Sapieha‘s falsehood, an
avowal of her preference for the hand-
some Count, asks her father's consent
to their union (telling him the alter-
native is Siberia when the unhappy
Menzikoff says “But sire—”) and be-
troths them instantly himself, to the
anguish of the real lovers, the anger
and consternation of Menzikofi, and the
bliss of Olga.

The evening of his marriage Sapieha
absents himself from the palace where
his bride awaits 'him. This of course
comes to the Czar’s knowledge. He
begins a tirade upon the immorality
and intrigues of the court, and instances
Olga, who had always seemed a pure,
unspotted and unspoiled girl. Boldly
and indignantly she denies the charge
that she had given a. rendezvous to
Sapieha before their marriage, and he
reads truth in her face. All his jealous
fury reawakencd, he summons the
Czarina, who reminds him that he him.
self had ordered Sapieha to Warsaw
and had not revoked the order after
the informal marriage. Sapieha re—

Czar and Czarina. The Czar‘s angry
demands for an explanation reveal the
truth to Olga; she sees her reputation
has been sacrificed by the man to whom
she is married to save the guilty ones,
yet she will save them for the love she
hears both. Now she tells the Czar it
was she whom the Count came to meet
in the Czarina’s boudoir. Reproached
with her falsehood, she tells him she
lied because she stood in her father’s
presence. Olga’s courage and love at
this crucial moment show the Count
the mettle of his young wife; almost
for the first time he looks at her and
finds her very sweet and beautiful. He
is susceptible, his heart, his vanity,
something, is touched; he turns to her
with a half embrace which she haugh-
tily repulses. She has saved him—but
she has not forgiven him. The Czar,
doubly furious at this duplicity, storms
in most unkingly wrath. He guesses
the truth, orders Sapieha to prison,
bidding the jailer answer for the
prisoner with his own head, and tells
Olga to prepare for Siberia. "' Olympus
shook, and Jove resumed his soup.”
On the morrow, Sapieha has es-
caped. Peter summons the jailer and
bids him prepare. the scadold, remind-
ing him his own head was to be the
forfeit for his prisoner. The impassive
Russian merely replies “Yes, sire,”
his customary formula. The Czar
knows the Czarina connived at the es-
cape but lacks evidence; otherwise
Olga would have a traveling com-
panion. All are astonished to learn
that Sapieha has voluntarily re-
turned, refusing to leave his young
wife, and this “ check” again partially
averts the anger of the Czar, who now
resolves to test his wife. He orders
Sapieha to instant execution and the
Czarina to his presence. She comes,
prepared for new outrages, concealing
a dagger with which she will slay her-
self if the Czar forces her to witness
the execution of her lover. Thus sus-
tained by her determination she is
perfectly unmoved at the procession,
the music, the ascent of the scaffold,
the kneeling posture; all the prepara-
tions up to the signal for the axe to fall,
which the Czar will give himself from
the window. He is deceived by her
calmness, her indifference amounting
to apathy; she does not even turn paler.
This scene is the most thrilling
climax in the story. The axe does
not fall and Sapieha is released. fiBut
Menzikoff, indignant at having his
loyalty to his sovereign and his ser-
vices to the empire returned by the
banishment of his only child, the only
thing he loves, to Siberian wilds, and
quoting the Czar’s own words “Death
to the ungrateful,” has dropped poison
into wine of which the Czar has drank,
and just as the latter, convinced of her
unfaithfulness though he can “‘prove
nothing, is about to decree aseparation
between Catherine and himself on gen-

 

t‘nrns and Olga and he are before the

punished, the potion obligingly takes
effect. The Czar is dead. Menzikoff,
seizing the last decree of the Czar, the
paper on which he had just written
“ It is my will that Catharine be ”——
(separated, he would have written)
reads it, adding “Empressl” and
Catherine is crowned and proclaimed
Empress at once. Her first order is
for the release of Sapieha, but when
he comes it is not to the Czarina but to
clasp his young wife even in her
presence. When she sees this the
tiger asserts itself for a moment; her
first impulse is to have him executed at
oncé, but she repents almost as the
order is given; she will not repeat
Peter’s reign of cruelty and tyranny;
and conquering her passion and assert-
ing the nobler part of her nature, she
not only pardons, but appoints him to
an honorable office at a foreign
court.

This is a long description—but it was
along play, five acts; and I have left
out the by-play and all the witty say-
ings. It is almost like preparing a
skeleton, to write out so bare an out-
line.

But oh Rhea, dear Rhea! if you only
would talk good rotund English and let
us know what you say! This mouth-
full-of-hot-potato business will do for
the drawing-room or the boudoir, but
not on the stage! oh no! You have
been told of that “piquant French ac-
cent ” so often I suppose you think “it
ees not posseeble ” for it to be tiresome,
but it is, indeed it is—atrociously,
abominably tiresome. You’re not an
apt scholar, Mademoiselle, or like
Modjeska and Janauschek you would
rid yourself of your. inability, and not
mar your regal roles by chattering
pigeon English in a fashion thatmakes
us want to laugh at you, and then weep
for you. BEATRIX.

 

AN OPINION .

 

And so, Anti-Over, you think that
“when our children become of age the
responsibility of their doings should
be taken off the shoulders of their
parents.” Well yes, in a measure, but
we are told in the Holy Writ that the
sins of the parents are visited upon
their children until the third or fourth
generation. We would oftimes like to
be free from any responsibility, and
many times we are, but when we con-
template that we have our perfections
and our imperfections also transmitted
to our children for generations, we
seem as it were to have a certain share
of responsibility resting upon us,
whether we are willing to admit it or
not, and therefore ought to have as
much charity as possible for the err-ing
ones of our own household—because,
well, because we ought. Yet there are
times when forbearance ceases to be a
virtue and we are truly innocent of

 

eral principles—so as to be sure she is

    

their wrong doings.
AUNT SABRA.

 


The Household.

THANKSGIVING.

 

Perhaps I can safely venture the
assertion that this day, set apart by our
President as one of thanksgiving and
praise for blessings received, divides
the great mass of the humanity into
three distinct classes. Class first in-
cludes those who have plenty of this
world's goods. Thanksgiving to them
means a. family reunion, a dinner
which weeks of preparation have made
a veritable feast, a jolly good time,
“only this and nothing more."£Class
two, the consientious Christians cwho
recognize God’s hand in well filled
granaries, barns and corneribs, good
health, prosperity and the like. Class
third having received nothing the past
year, but what has been begged or
stolen, and little enough at that, won-
der why it means so much to some and
so little to others. Of course they re—
turn no thanks, and the sun rises and
sets much like other days. Very few
take a thought of Lazarus at the back
door; we’ve heard so long about the
poor being with us always .that it has
become an old story.

So we go ahead and make out
the list of those whom we shall
invite. Then we select the finest
gobbler that runs in the poultry yard.
if the company be unusually large two
will be found necessary. There should
be plenty of young chickens for the pie,
and a pair of ducks with nicely browned
breasts will make a fine accompani-
ment at the dinner table. I am de-
cidedly in favor of all these old-
fashioned things, that mother and
grandmother used always to have.
This day of all days the old ideas should
be faithfully carried, out along the old
iine. The poultry is secluded from all
out door exercise for a week before;
fed on plenty of good warm food liber-
ally seasoned with pepper, sage, etc.,
which gives a decidcd tone to the
flesh. The turkey receives the most
attention, for he is the principal feature
of the dinner table, but

“ We’ll pass the execution act,

The plucking that he got:

The dressing that wi'hin was packed
The oven roasting hot,

And see him when all nicely browned
Upon the plate he lies:

To draw the praise from all around
For tenderness and size.

"‘ And next in fancy hear the click

Of knives and forks at play:

And see the plates returning quick
To where that turkey lay.

Then mark the latesr scene of all.
When that rich feast was through:

The children wirh their fingers small,
The wishbone break in two."

There is always considerable pleasure
felt along with the hard work in pre-
paring such a dinner. If there be a
brick oven, all the things can be
baked at once, but with the common
cook stove or range, everything except
the turkey must be gotten out of the
way in the morning. Chickens for a‘
pie should not be boiled until tender,
for they will be cooking all the while
the crust is baking, so at a certain

 

point they should be taken up into the
pan in which the pie will be baked, re-
move all the large bones. using tire
smaller parts: five large chickens are
none too many for a pic of which
eighteen peOplc will partake. The crust
is made as follows: Seven coffee cups
of flour. sifted twice: seven teaspoonfuls
of baking powder; one coffee cup of
butter or lard; tablespoonful of salt.
After mixing thoroughly wet into soft
dough with thin sweet cream. Line
the sides of the pan, then out a liberal
amount of butter into the chicken and
a cup of the broth, pepper slightly,
then roll the remainder of the dough
into the upper crust. cutting some
pretty design to allow the steam to
escape. Now lay bits of butter thickly
over it and bake one hour; put a piece
of butter in a cloth and rub over when
it is taken from the oven and cover
with a pan of the same size, and it is
all ready for the table. The dinner is
not complete without all kinds of vege-
tables, with different jellirs and cran-
berry sauce, chicken salad and celery;
pickles of all sorts, tea and coffee; rice
pudding, mince, pumpkin and cran-
berry pie, can all be made ready the
day before, as will the cakes and any
fancy articles one desires.

Cheese sticks are delicious and nice
to manage at a meal of this kind. Take
one cup of grated cheese. one-half cup
of cracker crumbs; salt to taste; moisten
with sweet cream; add flour and milk
sufficient to make paste, roll as for pie
crust and cut in long strips the width
of a straw‘ and bake a light brown.
Fruit cake and a'ngel’s food are nice for
this occasion; nuts of all kinds, grapes
bananas, oranges, candles are always
appreciated by the little folks, who are
looking ahead for weeks with so much
pleasure and satisfaction to this great
spread. To some one of these bounti-
fully spread boards should the minister
and his family be invited. If we are
all one family, if all man are brothers,
everybody should have plenty of
“fillin’” on this day. But alas, many
will go hungry just as on other days!
Many will look with longing eyes on
the displays in the markets; poor little
children will hear rich children tell of
elaborate preparations made at home,
or of anticipated pleasures at grand-
ma’s, and yet we are all journeying to
the same bourne, the same Father's
protecting care is over us along the
way; at last we all occupy the same
allotted space of ground in God’s half
acre and Dives and Lazarus will rest in
Abraham’s bosom.

God pity the poornn life’s highway,
God pity the poor on Thanksgiving day,

God pity us all should be our prayer
Till we‘re safe in the harbor over there.

BATTLE CREEK. EVAN GE LIN E.

——.¢.———~—

A LADY has discovered that if you
set a dish of hot water in the oven
where you are warming rusks, buns or
biscuits, the steam will prevent the
crust from hardening and drying out.

 

3

0 UR SEWING MACHINE.

 

KALAMAZCO, Nov. 16. 1591.

In reply to the correspondent who
asked about the machine, will state
that I bought a MICHIGAN FARMER
machine six years ago. For the first
three years was determined to like it,
but the machine does not last. I had
a man here from town two years ago to
fix it, but it is wearing out. He had a
thin plate that he cut in strips and
put between the works to make it tight,
but the machinery has the. same old
rattle that it had before it was fixed. I
feel it a duty to let the correspondent
know about it. My machine has been
run very little, as I am over sixty years
old; it stands idle a good share of the
time, and I do most of my sewing by
hand. My son’s wife was here a while
ago and used it; she says: “Mother,
what ails your machine? it sounds like
an old threshing machine.” The screws
are soft, so you can hardly turn them
they bruise up so badly.

MRS. C. B. MITCHELL.
Box 605.

 

[There is one inaccuracy in the
above letter: We were not selling the
MICHIGAN FARMER machine six years
ago, its manufacture only beginning
three years ago. Six years ago the
low-arm Singer was sold in connec;
tion with the FARMER. There have, in
the past ten years, biflm a good many
hundreds of them sold. Now and then
one is sent out which does not give
satisfaction; but the buyer is at liberty
to return machine and receive back the
money paid for it, or ship the head to
us for repairs, for which no charge is
made. But the proprietors of the
FARMER protest against these machines
being placed in the hands of a sewing-
machine agent for repairs. It is to
their advantage to cripple the machine.
Finally, if our correspondent will ship
the head of the machine to th office,
it will be put in running order again. It
is singular, however, that nearly seven
years (it was shipped January 10, 1885)
should have been allowed to elapse be-
fore we were even notified that there.
was anything wrong with the machine
-—nearly two years after the five years?
guarantee had expired. This is one

of the very few complaints which have
reached us. Our readers can deter-
mine for themselves where the re-
sponsibility rests. We have had ab-
solutely nothing but expressions of
satisfaction regarding the Michigan,
the machine referred to m the in-
quiry.—ED.]

 

.._._.

MRS. L. M. CANNON, well known to
HOUSEHOLD readers through her
pleasant and interesting letters over
the nom de plume of “El. See,” was
married on the 16th inst. to Mr. I. N-.
Brahb, also of Romeo. The HOUSE-
HOLD adds its sincere congratulations-
and good wishes to those of a large

circle of friends, and entreats the
choicest of life’s blessings as Fortune’s
wedding gift.

 


  

 

 

 

 

 

The Household.

    

 

 

 

STRIFE.

Strife is the one thing to be ruled
out. Many discomforts can better be
allowed than this. Ill temper, hasty
speech, sharp retort. and all the quick-
spirited ways that offend may be held
in check. It has been proved by
thousands of reforms that men may
control their appetites. Much easier
is it tocontrol temper and tongue. I
was so utterly disgusted whenIread
in a late HOUSEHOLD about that gen-
tleman ('3) who burned his wife’s
HOUSEHOLDS I couldn’t refrain from
saying what I thought. Preposterous
ideal Owe the HOUSEHOLD a Spite be-
cause it savors of woman’s rights!

Woman has a right to rule; man will
not deny it. In the peace and power of
her womanhood she may rule most
beneficently. So far as the matter of
peace is concerned, wives are under no
more obligations to keep the peace of
matrimony than husbands. Talk about
greeting husbands with a smile! Think
you if my husband should destroy my
HOUSEHOLDS that I have saved all
these years, I could greet him with a
smile? No, not I. There are almost
always two sides to domestic upheavals,
anyhow. My husband and fifteen year
old boy think as much of the HOUSE-
HOLD as I do. RAXA.

Ln“. ~

 

 

WESTWARD BO. ~

 

We left Denver via the Denver & Rio
Grande railroad. The first stop was
at Castle Rock, where a bold promon-
tory of rock rises directly from the
plain, in a form suggestive of the
name. A pretty village of the same
name is located at its foot. Further
on we reach Palmer Lake, a very pretty
sheet of water coming into favor as a
summer resort. It is over 7,000 feet
above sea level. Although inahigh
altitude the country is largely a plain,
ranches are numerous, and cattle and
horses roam in vast herds. Half a
mile from Palmer Lake is “ Glen Park,’
where the Colorado Chautauqua it
located. All through the ride you
seem tobe in the shade of the moun-
tains, but they still stand high and
grand at a distance—so near and yet so
far.

Colorado Springs is a pretty city,
the county seat of El Paso, with a
population of 12,000. Colorado City is
known as “Old Town” and is about
midway between Colorado Springs and
Manitou. This is located at the foot of
Pike’s Peak, and is one of the most
lovely places imaginable. It is a bit of
modern city, dropped into a lonely but
wild glen of the mountains. The
" Springs ” are nine in number, in the
city limits, and divided in a general
way into soda and iron springs. The
waters come bubbling and sparkling
up from nature’s reservoir with their
healing process, and are eagerly sought
by the invalid and also by the general

    

 

tourist. After sampling the delicious
effervescent waters the tourist next
turns to the attraction of Pike’s Peak.
A railroad has this season been com-
pleted to the summit of the mountain
and we chose to ascend by this means.
In Engleman’s Canyon is the pretty
depot of this road. and from this point
the ascent is made. Thedistance from
here to the top is nearly nine miles.
The rails are laid on ties of the usual
width or standard guage, but in ad-
dition two rails are laid in the center,
and are cut into regular cogs. The
engine is set on trucks at an angle of
45 deg., so that when on the ascent the
boiler is level. The car is like an or-
dinary rail car except that the seats
tilt forward to bring them level as you
rise. Both engine and car have cog-
wheels which work in the cogs of the
center rails, thus binding all to the
track. The. engine weighed about 3 0
tongf’gb‘ég behind the car in ascending,
and in from returning. They are not
coupled together, so an accident to one
would not llllpEl‘ll the other. Only one
car is used at a time, and will accom-
modate about fifty persons. “ All
aboard!” The engine shrieks and up
we go, following the windings of Bush-
ton’s creek, a mountain stream that
foams? roars, rages—fiend til‘fnbles , down
its rocky bed from far up the mountain
side. Up we go, winding in and out,
seeing the outer world seemingly sink
away while we rise into the thin air
and eyrie world above. On we go!
climbing by a perilous ledge, scarce
wide enough for the track, with a
yawning precipice below, with beetling
crags: above, broken rocks below.
About half way up is a hotel where
tourists sometimes stop a few days.
Coal and water stations are convenient-
ly located. Arrived at the headwaters
of the creek, we are above timber line;
only dwarfed vegetation is ’visible and
this soon ceases. We look down and
see cities, lakes and plains lying in
toy-like state, we look upward, the
track stretches away up the broken
boulder-covered mountain side. As
you ascend you look down into valley,
plain and dismal abyss; upward it is
the same seemingly inaccessible des-
olation. Here every few hundred feet
excavations were made, and the track
anchbrcd in masony to the solid
rock. At one point where the grade is
25 per cent the steam power gave Out,
and we waited in suspense while steam
was raised. This was more trying to
theunerves than progress, and for an
instant I fancied my only hold to earth
was in my toes, and when they let go I
was going: backward—down, down,
away down! But up we go again, and
with a sharp turn around a jutting
rock, there we are at the top. You
alight and look about you, shivering in
the frost and panting for breath in the
thin air. Desolateness of desolation!
The summit is composed of heteroge-
nous rocks, piled and scattered in

to the
edge of the cliffs, but found no pleasure

wildest confusion. I walked
in the scene. A United States signal
station has been built on the summit,
and lodging and food are provided for
any demented tourist who desires to
remain. The clouds were far below us,
and when rifts occurred the world be-
low was a panorama for our enjoyment,
but when they closed in all the world
remaining was our desolate rocks;
floating and to float forever on the
limitless sea that shut in our view.
while above us the blue sky of Colorado
formed aclosed dome, while the bright
sun looked calmly down. The moun-
tain is over H.000 feet high. The
ascent takes from two to three hours:
the coming down takes somewhat less.
The sun went down and night settled
her dark robes round us before we
reached the valley. I was glad when
the ride was over, as the excitement
and high altitude had produced great
fatigue. It was a novel, pleasurable.
exciting sensation. but a spice of dan-
ger—~real or fancied-gives rest to ad-
venture. There is a carriage road on
the other side of the mountain pre-
ferred by some tourists, but it takes all
day to accomplish it, while by rail 3
half day only is required.

The “Garden of the Gods“ is an
assemblage of quaint, grotesque and
monstrous forms, composed of a sand-
stone formation that has been worn by
time and the elements, the softer por~
tions of the rock having been disinte-
grated and washed away, these forms
remain, and by aid of fancy, resem-
blances are found to castles, ruins, ani-
mals and humans. It is a wonderful
place and one never tires of looking at
the curious scenes. The entrance is
between pillars 300 feet in height,
curiously carved and shaped by Time’s
corroding hand.

From here we drove through Glen
Eyrie, the picturesque summer home of
Gen. Palmer, of Illinois. Nature with
a touch of art forms a scene of romantic

 

 

beauty. ' 2.. L. L.
(To be connxnmd.,
Contributed Recipes
LADY Finesse—Aha and one eighth

pounds of flour; one pound of powdered“
sugar; two eggs; one teaspoonful of Royal

baking powder. The batter should be
baked on buttered papers. The main thing

in these cakes is to get the batter on the
papers in shape. If you have no tube with
a flange, use a funnel, and with the fingers

prevent the batter from running out too
fast. Each should be a finger long and not
thicker than a lead pencil-before baking.

When cool, wet the under side of the paper,
remove and stick two together. back to
back. *

 

KELLY IsLAND CAKE—Una cup of butter;
two cups of sugar; three cups of flour; one
half cup of sweet milk; three teaspoOnfuls of

Royal baking powder. Bake in layer cakes.
For filling use one cup of sugar; white of
one an; one lemon; one grated Red Astra-
ohan apple: boil five minutes.

 

BATTLE CREEK. EVANGELINE.