The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1873-09-02

r1-don -where-the--hitc
is,' slowly soliloquized our hero. It
ought to foam over, with little bubbles Cd
the top-at least Mates always does.
Perhaps the cold weather makes n differ.
ence Halo I've forgotten all about
potatoes !
But not potato could be found. and
Harry Kneller, with all the originality Of
great mind, fell back on pan of with
cred yellow turnips, four in number, which
he put boiling in prodigious iron pot
with the cover safely held down by a
couple of fat-irons.
1T will boil all the sooner thought
Harry. Nothing like an economy Of
heat. Now then for the oysters =
The frying pan wes literally auointed
with butter and placed on the fire, and
Harry began operations by impaling a fat
balf.frozcn oyster on the prongs Of fork.
They dredge 'em in flour first thought
Harry, refectively eyiug his oyster 'and
where the -four barrel is, I'm hanged if l
know Ab-h there it is under the cel-
lar shelf
And Harry plunged his oyster down
into the white powdery depths, bringing
it up an oblong sphere of snow.
That's the time of day Now my fine
fellow, cook away at your leisure, while
l give your brothers white jackets too I!
This is certainly remarkably fue -four.
How fragrant the coffee smells Here's
little drawback-frying pan not big
enough to hold the oysters! Never mind ;
we'll put 'em in first and second series,
like volume of popular essays'
Mr.. Harry Kneller paused to wipe the
streaming Precipitation from his brow.
Half past six ! Mary would soon be at
home now-the 'surprisel must really be
accelerated
Il really think the oysters must be done
on one side now said Harry eging the
frying-pan scientifically. and making a
dive at its contents with his fork Hal.
10 why they're as hard as bullets What
on earth is the matter p
He stared with discounted eyes at the
round adamantine balls that he imagined
juicy. hearted oysters
'I'm not bewtched, am L? he ponder.
ed. 1--we heard of money changing to
dry leaves, but never heard Of oysters
being transformed to stone 1t cant be
possible that-By Jove it is possible, ,and
I've been and gone and done it I've
dredged my oysters in plaster Of Paris
that was brought in for the garden, in
stead Of the fourl Here's pretty
bluader. All the oysters spoiled =
twenty-five of 'em, at five cents apiece
and all through my con-found ed stupidi-
ty'
And at the same moment the spout oi
the Britannia coffee-pot parted company
with its main reservoir, and the coffee
grounds, water, and melting metal poured
into the fire in confused steam, ashes, and
noise.
While Harry Kneler gazed at thi.
chaos with dim idea that it would bt
best to evactuate the kitchen promptly
be lore the occurrence of any more disas
ters, the two Aat.irons, impellcd by some
unforeseen hydraulic pressure. flew uE
against the ceiling, coming noisily dow1
among china cups and pilcd.up plates, the
pot cover following with noise like the
report Of artillery, and giving Mr.. Knel
Ter smart rap on the side of the head a,
it came down, which stretched him OIL
~" honr still holding the iossiled oyster
out on the eud Of a tosting fork
While Harry lay prone on the kitcher
oil-cloth, considering within himsel
whether he were killed dead mortaly
wounded, or not hurt at all, the doc
opened, and Mrs. Kueller rushed in pal
and breathless
He has shot himself know he has
He has committed sui,ide Oh, Harry
my own, own husband, speak to me ! Tel
me you are not dead y
Mol don't think l am enunciatet
MIR. Kneler slowly, as his wife threy
herself on her knees beside him, nearl
strangling him with the iervency of he
embrace. Only I've smashed the china
! and fried the oysters in plaster of Pari.
and melted the nose off the coffee poi
But I'm not dead, l think ="
And while Mary assisted him to rise,i i
little hysteric tremor between laughin
and crying, he looked sheepishly roun
J. on the chaos and ruin that surrounde
the death agonies of his ambition as
:, cook.
You see, Matte he said. glancing dc
y lorously down at his ash .besprinkled hal
iiments, Il wanted to give you lit
G surorise. and
And you have entirely succeeded, N
!, love- said his wife mischievously. YOU
d a splendid lawyer, dear, I've no doubt
; but you'll never succeed in life as
l. cook
y Il wish you'd tell me one thing, Ma
e ie,' he said that evening, as Mrs Knel
handed him his second cup of tea
And what's that p
T. Why didn't my buckwheat batter foa
a. over and bubble as yours does? | sti
ie red it until my arm was lame
D. My dear. said Mary laughing, .
you suppose the buckwheat batter didI
know the difference between you al
y me?'
Nonsense =
, 'Of course it's nonsense, said Mary
y mure!y, if you mean your attempting
'P fry oysters in plaster of Paris y
OF And Mr.. Kneller did not answer.
A LUXURIOUS CONVEYANCE The ira
le, liz. ..o;r of tho E,,nroaa nf Ruos;a