The Arizona sentinel. [volume] (Arizona City [Yuma], Yuma County, A.T. [Ariz.]) 1872-1911, 1875-05-08
How to Eat ga Orange.

A correspondent Of the Home
Journal writes: Always on a
Southern gentIeman's table the
desert oforanges is furnished with
small silver fruit knives and
spoons. The orange is held in
the napkin-just as you hold an
egg-and with the slender point
of a knife a circular incision is
carefully made in the slem-end
of the orange, and the stem core
is nicely cut cut, leaving an ori-
fee large enough for an egg spoon.
Theorange is held and eaten then,
just as gourmands eat an egg.
its own shell f; and the skill
with which this is done that
is without soiling the fl1gers
or napkin-are, as in the anne
process with the egg, a test of
good breeding ] have Known
+he recst innxnert person To saas-
ter the few diff Ulties in the way
after two or three efforts; and their
satisfaction was On infinite pleas
aat sight, The h0stesses who
like TO have tables preserve in
some degree, at the close of the
entertainment, the beauty which
daZZied the guests up0B entering,
InIs meInud is most uesIrauie.
Servants-let me put in a plea for
those silent ones whose interests
are too seldom regarded-spared
the tedious duty of gathering up
the fragments; and guests who
look with dismay at the tempt
ing apple of the Hesperides, can
thus enjoy it as they never did
before. Only the delicious nectar
of the fruit is eaten, with more
delicate pulp, the tough fibre-of
which indeed, there is very little
6n an orange plucked from the
tree under its own skies--being
left in the shell. ] trust you will
try this method, which we OF the
coast country along our Mississip-
pi river think is the only elegant
way to get at the heart of the
matter. o, those dainty dejea0aerS
of the past. with their fruit and
flowers, and wit, and grace and
ripping laughter, in the fairest
land that ever the skies bent over,
our Beautiful, our Desolate J!
A POLICE COURT SCENE-from
the Detroit Free Press. -'Snow'
halIing farmers" said Bjah, as
he handed out small boy. "Bub,"
said the Court, after long look
over the desk, suppose you had
killed an honest hard working
farmer by hitting him with 2
suOwball?" "I won never do d
again. sobbed the b0E sA9IP.
pose my son, you had killed & ~
and his body had been sent 70 \
MGrgue and word of the t6TII6i5
afiictiOn SER to his family. Ims'
gine, bub. the grief Of his gray
haired partner, the tears and b,
of his children! Picture the scene
to yourself. 1t is dark; happy
family has gathered around the
cheerful stovehearth; they are
waiting for the husband and faith
er 10 afElNe with four pOundSso
brown sugerr half a pound of sale
ratus, five cents worth Of molas
ses candy and three crash towels
A sleigh rides up. They rush t,
the windows and door. CRYING
sFather has conner Buta strang,
knock is heard. The door Opens
fhe man asks if Mr.. Miller live
there. and then in a sad voic
GOES on to say that Mr.. Miller i
So more, a Detroit boy name,
patsy Hern having murdele,
him with a SNOWFALL! Gaze O.
the piciure, my son-imgine tn
snrrnw % and woe and desolation.
"0hi boo-hoo-woow walled tn
hov. "You see, my son, thi
world is getting crowded for roor
and If each one OF us goes thrOug
life life kicking and striking an
throwing, t Some one is b1und I
cat hurt. Let year mmd dive
Tnon n these things, my boy, an
see If YOU can't get along aft'
this without tretNle. You ma
rur hS,y71 a uOW.