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Brown, or any other man, would enjoy better our simple Sunday night meal than all this fuss of changing plates and a grand stir-up. I thought he looked plain worried, at times, when he was here before."

The winter wore on. Mr. Brown, now shyly quoted by Bessie as "Will," had become a frequent visitor. His calls had long since lost their formal character; he was given to "dropping in." "Gee! he acts like a long-lost brother," was Sam's frequent comment.

The winter had been of strenuous occasions for Louise and her mother. Supper invitations had followed punctiliously upon Mr. Brown's frequent attentions to Bessie; every call made by the devoted young man was the occasion for a light luncheon, for the preparation of which the chief cooks left their comfortable chairs and evening papers to steal stealthily kitchenward, leaving Bessie uncomfortably at leisure to entertain her Will. "I wish they wouldn't do so much," the guest protested honestly. "You know I'm a good trencher man, and you're wonderful cooks over here, but I wish they would stay and let me get acquainted with them; your father is the only one of your family I really know, though Sam and I are making some progress."

One Sunday night, some months after Mr. Brown's first supper with them, a comfortable, big tray was deposited on the dining room table at Bessie's home. It was loaded with sandwiches, cups and saucers, a huge pot of chocolate, and a plate of new sugared doughnuts. On the table was a pot of beans and a pile of plates.

Just as they were sitting down at the table, the sound of the door bell brought Bessie hurriedly to her feet.

"That's never Will Brown," whispered Louise; "he was here Friday night."

"Don't fool yourself," answered Sam. And a familiar voice from the hall was heard to say: "Oh, Bessie, how mighty

fine you are looking! I brought you that book I spoke of. But see, now, I believe I happened on your supper hour, and I must be off."

"I should say not," called out Bessie's father from the head of the table. "You better come right in and have a bite with us."

To the credit of Bessie's family be it said, that no one embarrassed their guest with apologies. Told to sit anywhere, he naturally drew up a chair at Bessie's side. There was no addition to the menu apparent, when Louise asked, innocently, if every one had forgotten the snappy cheese, which she produced from the pantry with a pot of jam.

"Why, this is great!" exclaimed their visitor delightedly, as he dipped into the honest bean jar. "It seems just like home! We do just this sort of thing every Sunday night." A friendly, informal spirit seemed to have entered with the everyday dishes and the blue and white table cover. Mr. Brown was one of the family, and he plainly enjoyed his position.

At the end of the meal, with an ease born of much practice, Sam gathered up the pile of dishes before him and started for the kitchen.

"Do let me help, Sam!" begged their guest. "Many's the time I've done it, and I'd like to get my hand in again." Sam's thinly veiled hostility melted away. "That's right, Bill," he answered genially. "Lend a hand if you want to. It's my regular Sunday night stunt."

That evening, sometime between supper and half past ten o'clock, Mr. Brown measured Bessie's finger for an important ring which he proposed to buy.

When he emerged triumphant from The Den, bringing with him the blushing Bessie, to declare his plan of action to her family, he said:

"Why, I feel as if you were my people already. I've wanted for weeks to ask you for Bessie, but not till tonight did. I dare. It seemed as if that jolly little supper sort of got us all together."

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Culinary Science and Domestic Economics SUBSCRIPTION $1.50 PER YEAR, SINGLE COPIES 15c FOREIGN POSTAGE: TO CANADA, 20C PER YEAR TO OTHER FOREIGN COUNTRIES, 40C PER YEAR

TO SUBSCRIBERS

The date stamped on the wrapper is the date on which your subscription expires; it is, also, an acknowledgment that a subscription, or a renewal of the same, has been received.

Please renew on receipt of the colored blank enclosed for this purpose.

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In referring to an original entry, we must know the name as it was formerly given, together with the Post-office, County, State, Post-office Box, or Street Number.

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THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE

"FORMER President Roosevelt conthe English language only in our schools, tinues to preach his doctrine of for the unification of our people; otherwise we shall be, he says, another Balkan Peninsula."

The preachments of our former president are lucid statements of plain truths. In connection with matters pertaining to the present war, he seems to be one of the few Americans who has been right first, last and all the time. Certain it is, no reason or excuse can be given for teaching any other living language than our own. English in the public schools of America. For what has been done along this line in the past we can only feel regret; but let us now stop short, turn right about. and face the truth. Whereas once we were blind, now we can see. The teaching of languages, and especially the classics, in our higher schools and colleges. is quite a different matter. The disciplinary value, for instance, of the study of the classics can in no wise be gainsaid. The literary style and habit is an acquired attainment. It rises to any considerabledegree of perfection only through cultivation. The classics afford the best comparative study of languages.

JUSTICE AND RIGHTEOUSNESS

HAT we want here on this earth

WHAT

more than anything else is justice.. A wrong deed is painful; it stings the conscience and calls for repentance and restitution on the part of the wrongdoer.. Constitutions are admirable instruments. of government; laws are most essential' to our welfare and should be strictly ob-served and executed, but, unless these afford us real justice and security in life, they fail fully to accomplish their purposeand satisfy human needs.

A great deal is being said at present about peace, than which nothing can be more desirable or longed for. A great deal is said, too, about loving even our enemies, for which they seem inclined togive us no opportunity. Much of all this.

talk is idle speaking, for peace, without justice done, can neither be satisfactory nor abiding.

There is a higher law than that to be found in legal codes and written documents, which should actuate the conduct of men and nations in their dealings with each other. This law is indelibly stamped on the consciences of mankind.

"It is an attribute to God himself, And earthly power doth then show likest God's, When mercy seasons justice."

For ages this law has been pointed out and exalted; quite recently we saw it stated thus: "to do justice, to love mercy and to walk humbly before our God," or, in other words, "to establish eternal righteousness among the nations and give freedom and liberty to the world." This means that every people and nation on earth shall have the right to choose its own form of government and live under it free from invidious molestation. "Fiat justitia, ruat cælum." Let justice be done, though the heavens should fall.

THE MESSAGE FROM

NEUILLY-LA-POTERIE

It is not too much to in the recent news

is not too much to see a message from

item to the effect that they went into the battle line at Neuilly-la-Poterie with poppies in their helmets just snatched — common poppies from the fields as they moved on to their grim task, and tucked 'em in their hard steel headpieces. Thus they strode forward to gallant battle! It is a dull mind that can see only a trifling bit of soldier capering in such an act.

By all that we know of American manhood it doubtless rose to something far richer and finer. The present insistence that we know and face the facts in this huge war business is of the greatest benefit. But let us face all the facts poppies in the warrior helmets along with. the shrapnel bursting round them. Are

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By that spontaneous byplay those American men betokened the victory of the cheerful, against all odds, in their own staunch breasts. Why, anxious hearts here at home, as you picture them going forward thus bedecked, can't you almost hear their voices calling in masculine chorus, "Are we downhearted? No-o-o-o!"-can't you see their merry faces? And aren't you thankful that the glow of cheer is on "him" amid the hardships and perils "over there"?

But there is something else quite as certain. No doubt many a man in those khaki-clad columns breathed a dear name and envisaged a far away face as he plucked a poppy, thrust it into his helmet, and jauntily swung into the stride of his fellows again. "There's not a bonnie flower that springs, but minds me o' my Jean," you know. Who can doubt that such men cherished the thought that this unusual act of theirs might be cabled back to the newspapers in America, or at least, felt that it would, somehow, carry to you by love's mystic telepathy? And why? That smiles might brighten the far away faces the flowers made so clear smiles awakened by the radiance of courage like their own.

Receive, then, the message from Neuilly-la-Poterie. Let it brighten the days and the nights - banishing weak gloom from your face and voice, nerving you to do your duty here as "he" is doing his over there. Match your men at the front who can thrust gay poppies into their helmets on the way to battle. See to it that your letters show like spirit, that your war-work is done with cheerful zeal, that you are unflinching as you undergo the privations and anxieties of war-time. This is the message to all hearts at home. - The Boston Herald.

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PROHIBITION IN ENGLAND

not those poppies facts? And are they I England the Scientific Advisory

not of very practical significance amid flying shrapnel? Morale is a great essential in munitions.

Committee to the British Liquor Control made a report recently that "in some respects deserves to be called, as it has been, the most important pronouncement

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is obliged

NE who is obliged to patronize public eating-places knows perfectly well that there are great numbers of persons who in no wise are helping to win the war by saving food. The disregard for Mr. Hoover and his Food Administration in public is disgraceful. What is it in private? It is disquieting to surmise what is being done in innumerable American homes. Put this down for truth: The husband or the housewife who is going on in the same old way, having what they want when they want it, is a near-traitor. What kind of bread comes on your table? And meat, is there the prescribed two pounds per person a week, and not an ounce more? No mercy of allowance for what you say you have done for the Liberty Loan. You know that is a giltedged investment. For the Red Cross? Only a brute-miser could withstand the appeal. The Y. M. C. A. and kindred workers among our men? Your boy or a friend's over there moves you to give. The question is, what are you doing in your kitchen? You nor any one else because you have plenty can afford to do what you please. This is your war, and they are your substitutes, a million, two million of them, already in arms. Give them what they've got to have.

-The Christian Register.

He will not fail nor be discouraged, till he have set justice in the earth; and the isles shall wait for his law. I the

Lord have called thee in righteousness, and will hold thine hand, and will keep thee, and give thee for a covenant of the people, for a light unto the nations; to open the blind eyes, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, and them that sit in darkness from the prisonhouse. - From Isaiah xlii.

FOOD AND FUEL

HE homes of our New England

TStates, it seems, are more likely to

suffer from a shortage of fuel than food the coming winter. The dearth of fuel arises largely from the lack of means of transportation. People have placed their orders for coal, but their orders have not, or cannot, be filled.

Nothing causes more bitter regret than negligence; that is, failure to seize opportunities and make the most of them. The years we lingered in futile neutrality, we might have well spent in improving and enlarging our railroad systems, and in building up our merchant marine, in full confidence that the result, no matter what the issue of the war, could not be otherwise than immensely advantageous and profitable to America. Now this work must be done at tremendous cost.

The problem of transportation is most serious; it calls for foresight and wisdom. No branch of the public service is less likely to be overdone than this; for upon its strength and capacity depend the comfort and prosperity of the entire people.

PRACTICAL PATRIOTISM

Patriotism of the proper kind is demonstrated in the manner in which the heads of large industrial organizations are supporting the government in its war work. There are still, of course, a few persons who are either too selfish, or too ignorant of the fundamentals of economics, to give that support so much needed by the government in this grave crisis.

Your part in the war is to produce as much as possible, consume as little as necessary, and loan your savings to the government. Are you facing your task as cheerfully as our fighting men face theirs?

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IN ALL recipes where flour is used, unless otherwise stated, the flour is measured after sifting once. Where flour is measured by cups, the cup is filled with a spoon, and a level cupful is meant. tablespoonful or teaspoonful of any designated material is a LEVEL spoonful. In flour mixtures where yeast is called for, use bread flour; in all other flour mixtures, use cake or pastry flour.

Rice-and-Cheese Soufflé

Melt two tablespoonfuls of fat; in it cook two tablespoonfuls of flour and onefourth a teaspoonful, each, of salt and paprika; add one cup of milk and stir until boiling; stir in one cup of cooked rice (grains distinct), then beat in the yolks of three eggs, beaten very light, and half a cup or more of grated cheese; fold in the whites of three eggs, beaten very light, and turn into a greased dish. Bake in a pan of water in a moderate oven about 25 minutes, or until well puffed and firm in the center. The water should not boil during the cooking. Half a cup of fine-chopped (left over) ham, smoked beef or fish may replace the cheese, giving rice and ham or beef soufflé.

Lima Bean Timbales

Press cooked lima beans through a

sieve (use a pestle). To two cups of pulp, add two eggs, beaten without separating the whites and yolks, one generous teaspoonful of salt, one tablespoonful of scraped onion pulp, and one-fourth a teaspoonful of black pepper. Mix thoroughly and turn into well-greased timbale molds. Cook on many folds of paper, in a dish of boiling water, until firm in the center. Turn from the molds. Serve with cream or tomato sauce. The water should not boil during the cooking, but be kept just below that point. About twenty minutes of cooking is required.

Baked Bean Loaf

Use two cups of cold Boston baked beans; crush the beans through a colander with a pestle or leave them whole; add one well-beaten egg, two tablespoonfuls of tomato catsup, one cup of soft (sifted) bread crumbs, one tablespoonful

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