The Press., 1884-06-19
A FIRST-CLASS COOK.

| repeated the assertion.
 Not twelve hours before I had kissed Harold good bye, and watched him ride away over the prairie. It was lovely day, but to an experienced eye, the clear cut, white clouds, showing so vlvldly against the dark blue of the sky, were the banners of the vanguard of a storm. l But no one could have foretold that terrible cyclone, two hours later, would burst upon us, leaving ruin and death be- hind it.
 Yet so it was. Two hours after my hus- band had said s'Good bye, Madge; don't sit up for me may be late, " and passsd from my sight, black, funnel-shaped an hour later it broke over the little village of Pearl.
 Strangely enough, it swept only the western edge of the place, levellng the few houses in it's track, passing on to the town of Albion, where the destruction was fearful.
 But Harold, my husband, was caught on the plain, right in the path of the cyclone no shelter on either side which he could reach in time. A party of home-c coming hunters found him few hours after the storm had passed, lying face downward on the prairie, where the cyclone had dropped him after carrying him no one knows how far. The horse he rode was found dead a mile further back.
 l had been glad that he was away from home, out of reach of the storm, never dreaming that he was right ill its way on the prairie; and so when they brought him in, white and still, would allow my self to think of nothing only that he had tainted. When the doctor and others came to me, saying, '"rry and bear it, Mrs. Howard; your husband has been dead hours" l said, ''It is not sop And then l grew angry that they should tell me so dreadful thing, and breaking away 1 from them I threw myself down beside him, calling him all the old loving names, pressing passionate kisses on his face. But he was silent and cold-so cold thai | the chill from his lips struck to my heart could not see. I thought I was dying too, and was glad
 But lived. If grief killed women, few of us would be living The gray clouds of Novembt IT hung ovel | the earth when I was stron;y enough tt face life again. The necessity of earning living was brought sharply to my re membrauce when I found mys ,elf nearl, penniless.
 My girlhood's home had been i1r Albany I had married Harold againt my proud | old fathers express commands. I lovet l him, therefore it mattered little to me tha l that he was poor.
 But father was exceedingly angry tha his only daughter should throw hersel ] away on penniless fortune-hunter, as ht l chose to call my husband I knew that l Harold was not fortune-hunter, so mar. ried him, and we came to Kansas and set l tied in the little town of Pearl. Our short year of married life had known no cloud Now all was changed. I was widow al twenty, the daughter of rich man, there. I fore unused to methods of earning my ow1 living. could not appeal to my father. He had disowned me, and I had inherited something of his own indomitable will. What should I do? could not sew. There was understanding, that infallible resort of broken down gentlewomen, but that could not do was out of practice, and hated teaching.
 An idea came to me like an inspiration. I had natural genius for cooking. After my marriage did all my own work, and my nusband hpcf ofte.. q +lDa4, l4ainee tle daughter of a wealthy man, it was marvel. lous that I could cook like Frenchwoman l formed my plans at once. What cared for social position-I, whose life was dark ened forever?
 I sold all the furniture, all the iewelry J possessed except my wedding ring, secured testimonials as to character from leading citizens in Pearl, and telling no one where I was going, went to San Francisco When I arrived had one trunk containing my clothes, and money enough to board me cheaply for month. l The next day after my arrival looked over the ''Wants" in daily paper. One 7711~r Y termined to answer it:
 ! "Wanted immediately, first-class cook good wages and pleasant home to competent person."
 | I put on a plain gray dress-I did mol wear mourning; Harold would not have wished it-and called at the address given. There was an appallir.g g array of women in the vestibule of the large house which l entered. The servant seemed puzzled. when she answered my ring, as to what was until said:
 'I came to answer the advertisement. She understood, and seated me beside a fat Irishwoman, who looked upon my di- minutive figure with unmistakable scorn. 1 One by one they went upstairs, and one by one they came down again. Judging by their faces, the interviews were not sat. lsfactory. Feeling my courage taking flight, at length ascended the stairway and was ushered into the presence of the lady of the house. She was handsome woman of forty, with look of weariness and vexation on her face. Near the win. dow, in an easy chair, sat man of perhaps thirty, whose face indicated that he was recovering from severe illness. l An expression of surprise crossed Mrs. l Davidson's face as she asked
 ''Did you answer my advertisement fol Ia a.sfrst-class cook ?"
 "Yes, maam," I replied ssI think ] could please you.
 ':But-I beg your pardon-you do moi look like cook"
 felt my face flush as I answered l "One need not be less of lady because one is a cook"
 "No," doubtfully. "Have you ever been in service ?''
 l ''No, madam" I answered; ''but can give you testimonials as to character, and I should be glad to prove to you that I can cook. Please do not think" added. ea- gerly, interpreting the perplexed. look on her face, sthat because was not born in that station of life that shall expect to be treated differently from any other servant. Being compelled to earn my living, I have chosen this in preference to any other method. Will you look at my letters ?'' offering two or three.
 She took them, and crossing the room | oava oDa nr two of thonn to tba onntlono n