Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1874-07-30

. 1t will boil all the sooner" thought
Harry. Nothing like an economy of
heat. Now then for the oysters"
The irving pan was literally anointed
with butter and placed on the fire, and
Harry began operations by impaling a
fat halffrozen oyster on the prongs of a
fork.
"Thev dredge lem in flour first. y
thought Harry, refectively eying his
oyster: " and where the flour barrel is,
I'm hanged if | know! Ah-h! there it is
under the cellar 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, nv fine
fellow. cook away at your leisure, while
| give your brothers white jackets tool
This is certainly remarkably fine flour.
How fragrant the coffee smells Here's
little Misunderstanding pan not BIG
enough to hold the oysters! Nevermin :;
we'll put 'em in first and second series.
like a volume of popular essays!"
Mr.. Harry Kneller paused to wipe the
streaming perspiratiOn from his brow.
Halfpast six! Mary would soon be at
home now-the . surprise" must really
be accelerated!
Il really think the oysters must be
done on one side now" said Harry, ey-
ing the frying-pan scientifically and max
ing a dive at its contents with his fork.
F." Halloo! why, they're as hard as bullets!
What on earth is the matter?"
He stared with discounted eyes at the
found. adamantine balls that he imagined
juicy hearted oysters!
I'm not bewitched, am T." he pom
dered I've heard of money changing
to dry leaves, but | never heard of oys,
tiers being transformed to stone! 1t can't
be possible that-it is possible, and I've
been and gone and doneit! I've dredged
my oysters in plaster of Paris that was
brought in for the garden, instead of the
flour! Here's a pretty blunder! All the
oysters spoiled!-tWenty-f1v of 'em at
five cents apiece, and all through my stu
pidity!"
And at the same moment the spout of
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 Kneller gazed at this
chaos with dim idea that it would be
best to evacuate the kitchen promptly
before the occurrence of any more dis
asters, the two tiat-irons, impelled by
some unforeseen hydraulic pressure, flew
up against the ceiling, coming noisily
down among china cups and piled-up
plates, the pot cover following with a
noise like the report of artillery, and
giving Mr. Kneller a smart rap on the
side of the head as it came down, which
stretched him on the floor, still holding
a. +Io e
| toasting fork.
While Harry lay prone on the kitchen
oil-cloth, considering within himself
whether he were killed dead, mortally
wounded, or not hurt at all, the door
opened, and Mrs Kneller rushed in pale
| and breathless
9 He has shot himself know he hast
He has committed suicide! Oh Harry,
my own, own husband, speak to me!
Tell me you are not dead!"
"No-I don't think [ am" enunciated
Mr. Kneller slowly, as his wife threw her
self on her knees beside him, nearly
strangling him with the fervency Of her
embrace Only I've smashed the china,
and fried the oysters in plaster of Paris,
and melted the nose off the coffee-pot
But Pm not dead, | thinkm
And while Mary assisted him to rise,
in a little hysteric tremor between laugh
ing and crying, he looked sheepishly
round on the chaos and ruin that sur
rounded the death agonies Of his ambition
as cook
"You see, Matte, he said, glancing
dolorously down at his ash-besprinkled
habiliments, q wanted to give you
little surprise, and"
And you have entirely succeeded, my
love" said his wife, mischievously
You're a splendid lawyer, dear, I've
no doubt; but you'll never succeed in
| life as a cook"
4 wish you'd tell me one thing, Mat
tie" he said that evening, as Mrs. Knel
Ter handed him his second cup Of tea.
| And what is that?"
Why didn't my buckwheat batter
foam over and bubble as yours does? l
| stirred it until my arm was lame"
My dear" said Mary laughing, " do
you suppose the buclzwheat batter didn't
know the difference between you and
me?"
"Nonsensew
"Of course it's nonsense" said Mary,
demurely, if you mean your attempt
| ing to fry oysters in plaster Of Parisn
And Mr.. Kneller did not answer
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