La Grange Journal. (La Grange, Tex.), Vol. 37, No. 1, Ed. 1 Thursday, January 6, 1916 Page: 3 of 8
This newspaper is part of the collection entitled: Fayette County Area Newspaper Collection and was provided to The Portal to Texas History by the Fayette Public Library, Museum and Archives.
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THE HEART-Qf
NIGHT #1
A STORY Of THE GREAT NORTH WEST'
Oy VINGIE E. ROE
ILLUSTRATIONS by far (0Ain
COPY/?/CS/r OY DODO. MEAD AND COMPANY nLntaJ
8YNOP8I8.
I
Sileti of Daily's lumbar camp directs
•* stranger to the camp. Walter Sandry
Introduces himself to John Dally, fore-
man, as "the Dllllngworth Lumber Co.,
•or most of It." He makes acquaintance
with the camp and the work he has come
from the East to superintend and make
successful. He writes to his father that
he Intends to get a handful of the wealth
12 t*1® “"cut timber of the region. He
llrtves 81 lets permission to ride Black Bolt,
nia saddle horse. In an emergency he
oroves to the foreman that he does not
lack • Judgment Sllets tells him of the
|*reacher. He discovers that Sllets bears
- ® 2 ®n °* the Sllets tribe of Indians and
wonders what her surname Is. In the
•jush or a tender moment he calls her
^the Night Wind In the Pines" and kisses
CHAPTER VIII.
A Newcomer Among the Pines.
One day soon after the men returned
with word of the raft’s safe delivery
into the hands of Captain Oraftz, San-
<iry, working over his books in the lit-
tle office, heard a strange voice with-
out.
“Oh, no.” it was Baying in fresh,
sweet accepts—and the very tone said
East—“You need not wait. I’m going
to stay, if this is the office, or head-
quarters of this place, I’ll find whoever
Is in charge. Just put my trunk on
that pile of timber. Be careful! Oh,
do be careful! That case contains my
typewriter, and it’s more precious than
gold! There—that's right Now,
what do I owe you?”
There was an answer and the clink
of money, and Sandry roSe just as the
office door opened. It was the East
that confronted him, Fifth avenue it*
.eelf, the whole Inimitable metropolis
refined into one woman.
“I must beg a thousand pardons,"
she said, he? clear blue eyes raised to
his face, “and a lot of Indulgence. 1
want to be taken in. Do you think any-
one in this delightful place will do
it?"
"The whole camp will fight for the
privilege,” promised Sandry rashly,
falling in instantly with her bantering
tone and responding to the frankness
•of her smile. He watched her sit down
gracefully in the chair that he hurried-
ly pulley forward. With the first
glimpse of her the old nostalgia had
returned upon him and his heart clam-
ored for home.
"You are from New York," he said
simply.
“Yes. And I suppose I must explain
-at once. You westerners are so insist-
ent on reasons. My name is Poppy
■Ordway—and I am of that unfortunate
and much criticized specieB, the wom-
an with a life work.”
The smile she turned upon him was
•electric, full of that heady quality
which is distinctive of the vital wom-
an, the woman of strong and excitable
passions; it appealed to Sandry in-
stantly, so that a thrill of gladness ran
through him to bis very finger tips.
"I have written a few short stories
which have been well received in the
eastern magazines, but they fail to sat-
isfy me. I have my first novel drafted,
•and it is over there on your lumber
pile along with my precious type-
writer. It is a tale of the lumber re-
gion—and I’ve come out to work on
The ground. Do you think I can find
sanctuary ?’’
“We’ll see that you do," said San-
dry pleasantly, “and you couldn’t have
struok a better spot for local color any-
where in the Northwest. We are ele-
mental here, right down to the primi-
tive, and we are swamped with ‘at-
mosphere.’ You just come along to
Ma Daily," he promised, already using
the tone of hail-fellow which their
•common nativity and her frank man-
ner had established between them.
Hungrily he watched her gather up
her skirts and precede him up the lit-
tle path to the cook-shack, where Ma
Dally was already standing in the door
to take inventory. Every little move-
ment was so familiar, so potent in its
suggestion of home.
Chatting lightly, the stranger step-
ped up on the porch and smiled at the
white-haired old woman.
“Ma Daily,” said Sandry—he had
long since lost the sense of resentment
at the family atmosphere of the camp
—“this is Miss Ordway of New York—
a famous author—and she has come
West to write a new book.* Luckily
she struck us in her search for local
color. Can we take her in?"
Ma Dally looked at the visitor sharp-
ly and Sandry saw a scarce perceptible
change pass over her cheery features.
The vital blue eyes of the younger
woman gave back the scrutiny with
perfect openness.
“Please do. Mrs. Dally.” she said in
her sweet voice. “Please, please do.”
"Don't know,” said Ma slowly;
"’there ain’t any room.”
'Til abdicate,” put in Sandry quick-
ly; “she may have my room and I’ll
put up a cot in the office.”
Just at that moment Sllets came In
at the west door and, crossing the
big room, stood looking out upon the
group on the porch. Her dark eyes
rested first with a fleeting glance on
Sandry and then she saw the other.
She did not speak but leaned against
the door-jamb drinking in this appa-
rition. In the little pause that fell
presently she turned to the old lady.
‘‘Yes, mother,” she said softly,
'please do”
The stranger flashed a brilliant
glance at her, and with an inimitably
pretty gesture reached out a gloved
hand and patted her arm, bare under
the rolled-up sleeve.
"Mr. Sandry," called John Dally,
standing on the foot-log, “will ye come
down here a minnlt?”
“Sllets," said Ma, when the glitter-
ing guest had been shut away in San-
dry's little south room, "what for do
you want we should keep her?"
"Why—I don’t know, mother," said
the girl shnply, “only she's too beau-
tiful to let go. She looks like the
sun on snow.”
“Yes. Yes, I think she does,” re-
turned Ma inscrutably, “and’s about as
cold and false.”
As Sandry joined his foreman he
saw that something had ruffled the
usually placid temper of the slow
giant.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
"Hampden of the Yella Pines is in
the office,” said Daily sharply, “an’
from his looks he's got somethin'
nasty up his sleeve.”
“Oh, yes—Hampden—he’s one of the
owners, isn’t he?”
The two men walked back to the of-
fice and found, seated in the swing
chair, with his feet on Sandry’s desk,
a short, square man with a face and
manner which set Sandry on edge at
the first glance. They both bespoke a
nature self-satisfied to the point of
pride, a crafty shrewdness that had
been eminently successful aqd an ada
ma'ntine hardness of purpose.
“Ah, Mr. Sandry,” he said, taking
his feet from the table with insult-
ing slowness, “I’m Hampden—of the
Yella Pines—and 1 come over on a
little matter o’ business.”
Sandry bowed.
"Glad to know you. Mr. Hampden,”
he said civilly, though the memory of
the damaged rollway came suddenly
up before him, biasing his appraise-
ment of the man.
"And I might as well get it over
with, for it’s bound to be against the
grain a bit.”
As he spoke, a smile that was meant
to be insolently apologetic but suc-
ceeded only in being clumsy, creased
his weathered face, drawing his small,
sharp eyes into narrow slits.
“Yes?” said Sandry coldly.
“It’s about that track o’ stumpage
you're slashln' your log-trail acrost”
“Yes?” said Sandry again. “What
about the tract? It isn’t specially
good and we’re leaving it. Intend to
cross it and cut into the East Belt”
There was a slight tone of satisfac-
tion in his voice, for the East Belt
stumpage was a little the best thing
in all this magnificent timber country,
and the eyes of the Yellow Pines
people had been on it enviously for
years, according to John Daily.
“Jus’ so. Jus’ so,” said Hampden,
“only I’m afraid we’ll have to stop
your operations, ML Sandry. The fact
is. we’ve just bought this tract, an'
THE LA GRANGE JOURNAL. LA GRANGE. TEXAS
With a Face and Manner Which Set
Sandry on Edge.
as It comprises two hundred and fifty
acres, an’ is In the form of a narrow
strip runnin’ north an' south, it will
effectually keep you out o’ the East
Belt—unless, o’ course, you should buy
It of us."
For a moment Sandry regarded the
speaker in mild astonishment.
“Yon most be mistaken, Mr. Hamp-
den." he said; “all the stumpage for
five miles north and east Is our prop-
erty, with options on every privately
owned section for another seven miles
in both directions. And this tract yon
speak of Ilea within a mile and a half
of camp. Yon are suffering under a
hallucination.”
Sandry smiled ooldly.
"If yon will take the trouble to look
np the records la the state land offloe
at Salem.” returned Hampden smooth-
ly, “you’ll find that I’m in my right
mind, all right This here track has
been duly filed on under the home-
stead law by one T. J. O'ConnaL and
sold by him last week to the Telia
Pines Lumber company. Now. my
young Easterner, you can’t run yer lor
trail acrost our land.”
Hampden roee, his little eyes shin-
ing with savage triumph.
Sandry rose also.
“I’ll neither take the trouble to go
to Salem nor pay the least attention
to your threats.” he said, and his man-
ner was coolly unconcerned, “and I
should advise that you get this com-
pany out of your head as quickly as
possible. And now good day.”
He turned, as If the interview were
at an end, and seated himself at the
desk from which Hampden had just
risen.
“By gosh, you’d better!” said the
other with a snap of his heavy jaws as
he strode past Daily and out of the
open door.
“An*, by God. we will!”
This last came in the deep boom
of the foreman, who was watching
the departing lumberman with the bit
ter enmity of years of fighting.
“Now. what do you think of that?”
asked Sandry in profound disgust.
“Just what I’ve thought of him for
years—damned spectacular bluff!”
CHAPTER IX.
Hampden and the East Belt.
In the press of business and the
pleasant moiling over the whole old
city of New York with Miss Ordway,
Sandry forgot all about Hampden in
the next few days. Ma Dally had noth-
ing to say, keeping a grim silence,
which Sandry noticed. As for Slletz,
she followed her with fascinated eyes
whenever she appeared. Miss Ordway
did not eat with the men. Her morn-
ings were given up entirely to the in-
cessant clicking of the typewriter in
the seclusion of the little room, and
she emerged after the noon hour, ate
with Ma Daily and Siletz, and inva-
riably took a short walk in the after-
noon.
In the evenings Sandry came in, and
they sat in the empty eating room, dis-
cussing with a common knowledge
that seemed to shut them apart to-
gether, the things of the great out-
side world. At such times Siletz lis-
tened in quiet eagerness, her dark face
aglow and her eyes like mysterious
pools in the shadow of her heavy hair.
That week there were several arri-
vals at Daily’s camp—well-clad, re-
sponsible-looking business men from
Portland; and before they left, Sandry
had landed such an order for logs as
plunged the camp into the hardest
work, longest hours and highest over-
time it had ever known.
Also he sent out word to Toledo that
he had use for all the men he could
lay hands on.
An extra crew was put to building
the log trail up through the slashed
opening to the East Belt, and activity
characterized the hills.
The incessant shrill toots of the don-
key, the scream and cough of its fussy
labors, the rumble and clatter of the
log train, began to be music in San-
dry's ears, and the letters he wrote
to his father became brighter, filled
with the exhilaration of accomplish-
ment.
For a day or two the work went
forward finely and the new logs of the
fresh-laid trail gleamed white against
the green of the mountain. Then Col-
lins, sent into the uncut timber ahead
to blaze for further operations, re-
turned to the works in double-quick
time.
“John," he said to the foreman, tor
none of the men would award Sandry
the right of consultation unless it was
unavoidable, even yet, so distinct and
deep-footed was their aversion to the
Easterner and bis rawness; “John,
they’s a new homesteader’s shack set-
tin’ square acrost the trail.”
“The hell you say! Hampden!"
The logger nodded. The purport of
Hampden’s visit had been freely
spread in the camp.
Dally turned to Sandry.
“They’s a new cabin settln* acrost
our trail up in the track between
here’n the East Belt, Mr. Sandry. Let’s
go up an’ take a look at It,” he said.
“I guess Hampden’s pushln’ his bluff."
With a surge of anger Sandry
turned abruptly, and the two men
struck up the new trail.
“I’ll have to settle that man. Dally,"
said the owner; “has he been doing
such things ever since the two com-
panies have been rivals?”
“Pretty much. Sometimes we’ve
been doin' ’em," returned Dally grim-
ly. Sandry laughed.
"Well, you Westerners believe in
fixing things first-hand, anyway, which
helps some.1
Far up in the heavy timber they
came into a small natural clearing
some 200 feet in extent, set like a
hole amid the solid bulk of the close-
crowding pines. In the center was a
tiny log shack, shake-roofed, without
doors or windows, the very least a
man might do in grudging compliance
with the homestead law. They looked
at it from all sides, noticed a few
biases on the nearest trees, read a
clumsily executed trespass notice, and
returned to camp.
“And us with our big contract with
the Portland Lumber mills!” said San-
dry. "I begin to see. Dally, you
gather out ten men and go up and
take that shaok to pieces just as quick
as you know bow. Don't leave a
trace. Bring the timbers away and
start felling from that end to meet the
trail.”
As the foreman Went among the
men picking his crew, Sandry turned
down across the slough toward the of-
floe. Onoe settled at his desk, he took
out the records of the Dllllngworth
oompany and began a systematic
search for word of the narrow tract of
hill and timber between the camp and
the fine East Belt
Whan Dally returned at quitting
Urn* to report the demolition of the
cabin and the start of the new
he had tons
“That's strange," he said uneasily.
'Are these all the records. Dally? Has
anything ever been destroyed? I can
find nothing bearing on this piece of
land, and yet the statement turned
over to me by Fraser distinctly says
that everything from the southwest
section corner here at the camp within
a radius of five miles north and east
belongs to us, with numbers, and all
data. What does this Hampden mean,
and what sort of a tract is this strip?
I see no mention made of it”
“No—that strip was part of the East
Belt. The company bought It four
year ago from a busted speculator,
who sold ’em first the north stumpage
an’ then this at a sacrifice price.
That's why Hampden’s always ben so
sore over It He wanted it himself.
Stafford, the speculator s name was.
A smooth man from the East There
was Borne hitch about titles—specially
about this here strip, an' the deal hung
fire for some time an’ Hampden danced
a war dance, he was so blame anxious
to knock it, but old Frazer beat him
to it an’ won out. Finally it was
settled an’ the strip come under the
East Belt deed.”
"Oh, I see!" said Sandry, shifting a
sheaf of papers. “Here it is Well,
that’s a relief. And now for this Mis-
ter Hampden."
But Hampden was for himself and
with a vengeance.
That evening Sandry met Siletz
across the little meadow back of the
camp, where he had gone for the mall
sack, left swinging on the forked stick
set up beside the county road.
“Been up on the ridge?” he asked,
vexed that it should take a slight ef-
Began a Systematic Search for Word
of the Narrow Tract.
fort to keep his voioe to the common-
place. This girl in her natural setting
always took him out of the everyday,
affected him like a play with lowered
lights, soft music and alien scenes.
“Yes,” she said dreamily, falling in-
to the whimsical speech that only es-
caped her when she stood apart on the
hills, or listened to the pines, “It came
tonight"
"It?"
Sandry had gone a little way to meet
her and the camp was shut from sight
by a clump of spruce, new growth and
low-branched.
“Yes—the light Oh, the great lights
—red and gold and purple. When the
sun breaks through just at the last
And I know the ocean Is under it—
blue and purple, too, like the hills.
Some day I’ll see it"
“You picture these things, don’t
you?" he said, "the things you have
never seen—the sea and the cities and
the outside world?"
“Yes-1 know them all—my way.
Sometimes I don’t think 1 want to see
them in their way—the real way. They
might not be so bqgutiful. The Preach-
er says the glories of the world are a
lure of the Devil. But I don’t think so.
It don’t seem as if God would make
things beautiful and let the Devil have
them to ruin people with—and God
made all things. And we are his best
things."
“You believe that?” asked Sandry,
with an odd note in his voice.
' “Believe It?" said the girl wonder-
lngly. "Of course. Don’t you?"
"Well—it's been a long while since
I’ve believed anything."
The girl was near to him now, the
dreamy look of her eyes dissipated in
amazement.
“You’re lost!" she said simply. “The
Preacher would say so—even Wahloo-
wah would say so, and old Kolawmlel”
' Wah loowah—Kolawmle? Who are
they?"
"The Indian woman yon saw me
talking to in the glade and an old. old
man of the Siletz. He who believes
nothing will be punished by the Great
Spirit—even as the preacher says in
his way. And the Bible."
That sudden mist in her eyes
touched Sandry.
“And so you would have me believe,
little SleU?" he asked gently. The
mist had thickened under, the heavy
lashes, and a look of distress was on
her face where every emotion bared
lteelf in unguarded innocence to the
observer.
“Oh. dear heaven!” she breathed,
“yes—oh. yee, you must! Why yon
would—you would—” but she could get
no further with the appalling thought
“And you?" probed Sundry curious-
ly. “Have you vletons of the soul’s re-
ward and punishment? Are you bound
for oelestial peace?”
“Yes,” She said solemnly, "i must
save my soul, though 1 lose the whole
world.”
The msjsstln Bible langi
over the man a feeling of
and he dropped hie eyes.
“All right, ■’lets,”
lag the braid in his TU be-
lieve anything you say—set me up a
totem pole or attend Sunday school at
Toledo. Only forget it By George,
what a head of balr! If I were a wom-
an I’d give a thousand dollars tor it!”
He lifted the rope and weighed it
critically.
“Why. what for?" asked Sllets, her
eyes still solemn.
“To have it. of course. You’re dread-
fully unsophisticated. Come along.”
And swinging the mall sack be
turned toward camp. Sllets came si-
lently at his heels, falling In behind
with a certain instinct, and Sandry
had an unpleasant suggestion of wil-
derness processions be bad seen enter-
ing Toledo, enlivened by brilliant hues
and canine adjuncts He turned
whimsically for a look at the rear.
Coosnah brought it up with a faithful-
ness to detail that was convincing.
At the western door of the cook-
shack they were met by Miss Ordway,
blooming like a hothouse plant behind
plate glass, an Incongruous element In
her belted dress of light broadcloth.
She leaned in the doorway with inimi-
table grace, an immaculate hand on
either side.
“The wild huntress!” she smiled at
Sllets.
“No.” said the girl, “I never hunt
I love the deer best in the fern."
“Yes?” said Miss Ordway curiously,
and Sandry, kicking the clinging
earth from his caulked boots, saw the
divining spirit of the writer probing
this elemental nature. “Why? Wouldn’t
you be proud of an antlered head with
the mark of your skill between the
eyes?”
Siletz flung out a hand in a quick
gesture.
"Oh, no, no—I could never do it
Unless.” she finished, still in that
earnest manner, “someone 1 loved
were starving. Then 1 could."
Sandry lookod at the two sweet
faces, one so lovely in its smiling,
amused alertness, the other so aban-
doned to the feeling her own words
had stirred, and a deep admiration tor
both tilled him.
“Wild to the wild,” he said under his
breath. “What are you, little S’letz? I
wonder if I’ll ever know?”
"S’letz,” broke in the foreman, pass-
ing in his lumbering fashion, "the
Preacher’s cornin'. 1 heard today he’s
been seen a couple times—once crosa-
ln' the Big Slough below tho bridge,
an’ once in the hills.”
For the first time since he had
known this girl with her varied nature.
Sandry saw the swift lighting of girl-
ish excitement in her face as she
flashed around at Dally.
"Oh!" she cried gladly, “how soon
will he be here, I wonder?"
“Don’t know."
(TO BB CONTINUED.)
LENDING A HELPING HAND
EXTRA LINEN SUPPLY
Teamster Gave Handoert Pusher a
“Lift" That Was Something to
De Appreciated.
Here is an Interesting street scene,
drawn by a writer;
The handcart was of a familiar sort
—a pair of high wheels with a long
platform of slats resting on the axle
and a crossbar at one end for a han-
dle. A man stands behind the cross-
bar and breasts it to propel the ve-
hicle.
The handcart was piled high with
big bags filled with waste paper—a
cumbersome, heavy load that would
have been hard to handle anywhere,
and was doubly troublesome going up
the slope from Nassau atreet to Broad-
way. The handcart man had to bend
over the bar and push with all his
might to keep the load moving at alL
Coming up behind him was a driver
with an empty truck, drawn by a pair
of big horses. When the driver saw
what was ahead, he started up bis
team a little and skllltuly set the end
of the pole square in the middle of
the rearmost bag on the handcart,
where he could push to the greatest
purpose without disturbing the load.
Thus the horses began to push the
handcart up the hllL
All the handcart man had to do was
to stand up, hold on to the handlebar,
and keep the handcart straight The
big horses, guided by the friendly
driver, were doing the pushing; and
so. easily enough, the man got his load
up the rest of the slope and round to
the easy level of Broadway.—New
York SUn.
Brltleh Bex Equation.
There are more women than men In
the United Kingdom of Great Britain
and Ireland. Consequently, as a mem-
ber of the house of lords pointed out
In debate, to grant the parliamentary
franchise to women in the British
Islands “would moan the handing over
of the country and of the empire to a
female electorate, which was a peril-
ous step to take." 8tUL considering
the fighting qualities of ths militant
sisters who want to vote, the empire
might be in safe bands If It came to
an armed encounter with a foreign
foe. However, the argument was ef-
fective, for the lords defeated the
woman suffrage bill whlob was before
them by a vote of 104 to 80.
Reasonable Advance.
There is a young author In
more who Is determined to
tame tn the writing Une If It takes
his whole Ufa Accordingly, he Is
even willing^ to^defray ^hc cost of
novels he writes from year to year.
On the occasion ef Us last visit
to hls^pahUahar. however^ he^was
♦hfg for him. “Why," naked ha “da
yon charge see snore this tone thaa
before?”
-Wen." aaM the
MATTER THAT IB THE DEBIRf OR,
EVERY HOUBEWIRE.
Monograms Should Be Embroidered
on Every Pleoo—Fanoy Work
That Can Be Done In Mo-
menta of Leisure.
No housekeeper can ever have-
enough attractive linen for her table;
and her bedrooms. She may have
enough for actual service, but it is
wise to keep just a little ahead of the
actual need in extra towels for guest-
room and bathroom. It is also advis-
able to keep just a little ahead in
the supply of linen for the table.
Every set of napkins and each table-
cloth should have the housewife’s sur-
name initial or her monogram em-
broidered upon it There Is a question
as to the proper place to put the
initial or monogram, but the majority
prefer the letter on tablecloths to be
in the corner, where they will come
just off the rounded edge of the table.
Napkins should have the initials In
the corner or in the middle on one
side, where they will be on top when
the napkins are folded. Tea napkins
are the only ones on whloh a wreath
can appropriately be placed. It is
quite permissible to place an initial
within the wreath or other decorative
motif. Tea napkins can also be fin-
ished with hemstitched or scalloped
edges.
Some women may argue that they
haven't time to put fancy work on
household linen. This Is a poor ar-
gument, for almost every woman has
a few moments during the day when
she sits down to chat with a neigh-
bor or when she is waiting for the
homecoming of her husband to his
evening meal. It is during these odd
moments that a great deal can be
accomplished, especially in the way
of fancy work. Pick-up work is good
for the nerves.
Mexican Meat Loaf.
Mix thoroughly a pound and a halt
of chopped beef, half a pound of finely
chopped veal and a quarter of a pound
of chopped salt pork, a tablespoonful
of finely minced parsley, half a
chopped onion and a tablespoonful of
minced green pepper, also a teaspoon-
ful of salt and a saltspoonful of pep-
per. Cut a long, narrow strip from a
canned pimento and arrange a layer
of the meat mixture firmly In the bot-
tom of a dish previously wet with cold
water. Then lay the pimento strip
lengthwise on the meat and cover
with the remainder of the meat. Pack
in well and bake three-quarters of an
hour in a qulok oven. Make a gravy
of the drippings, adding a little tomato
Juice and chopped green pepper.
Penneylvanla Plum Pudding;
One cupful milk, two eggs, one cup-
ful molasses, one-half teaspoonful nut-
meg, one-half teaapoonful salt, two
teaspoonfuls baking powder, one cup-
ful bread crumbs, one-half cupful corn-
meal, one cupful chopped beef suet,
one-quarter cupful finely mtnoed cit-
ron, one cupful seeded raisins, one-
half cupful currants; flour to make a
stiff batter. - Steam fully three hours,
turn from the moM and strew chopped
almonds over top. Serve pudding hot,
with sauoe made thus: Cream to-
gether one cupful of pulverised sugar,
scant one-half cupful of butter, beat
whites of two eggs in, one at a time,
and one teaspoonful of lemon flavor-
ing; stand on Ice a short time before
serving. Serve sauce very oold.
To Beat an Egg Quickly.
Break the egg Into an ordinary
glass tumblsr. Place a piece of clean
tissue paper on the top. Hold It
firmly down all around to keep out
the air. Place the other hand on
the top of the paper and shake the
tumbler vigorously two or throe
times. The egY Is then ready to use
without any further effort, and Is as
well-beaten as If whipped tor ten
minutes.
Oatmeal Muffins.
Put two cupfuls of uncooked oat-
meal in bowl, pour over one and one-
half cupfuls sour milk, cover and let
stand, over night In the morning add
one-third cupful sugar, one-fourth cup-
ful malted butter, one egg. well beat-
en, one teaspoonful salt and one cupful
flour. Beat thoroughly, place In but-
tered hot Iron gem pans; bake tn a hot
oven 20 minutes.
Anna Potatoes.
Wash and pare m
toes, cut lengthwise in
Inch slices, fasten with
(toothpicks), parboil ten
place In dripping pan and lx
twenty minutes In a hot ovei
often with butter or some ot
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La Grange Journal. (La Grange, Tex.), Vol. 37, No. 1, Ed. 1 Thursday, January 6, 1916, newspaper, January 6, 1916; La Grange, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth997264/m1/3/?q=%22~1%22~1: accessed July 16, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Fayette Public Library, Museum and Archives.