The record-union., 1894-02-17

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gravy tonight, Doti-and here" said
Richard Hardy, literator, glowing, hold
ing dainty pot covered over with pretty
labels up to the single gas jet, mere,
my dear, is SURPRISE"
My! Dick what Is it?"
"W hat is it? What is it? What does
JAM spell. anyhow"
''Ja-m -m-jam. J-a-m-:iam," shouted
both children, Bob and Nellie, bursting
into the kitchen with shout of reserve
information.
1T does, does it, my hearties? Well,"
retorted Dick with mock seriousness,
giving both of the youngsters hug and
a kiss to the eminent danger of his trem-
bling eyeglasses, well, Hardys, junior,
there'll be no jam for anybody but your
venerable gfandmothers at the subse-
quently prIncely repast of this household,
ii you approach the supply department
in that tone Of voice again."
And away they went happy as birds at
the great spirits of their ''darlingest"
father, to lay the table, as Dot had bldden
them, while Dick, hanging his Irish
trieze upon the speaking tube, rubbed
his glasses with a dry corner OF the
kitchen towel, tossed his cuffs into the
wainscoted cupboard, turned up his coat
sleeves, gave the kitchen sharp-knite
two or three "zip-zitts" on the range
pipe in place of a steel, and fell to pairing
the potatoes with wOndrouS care and
zest, and Dot set the kettle singing,
sliced the bread into dainty squares, got
ready a drawing of tea, and began
bravely hacking the steak with the po-
tatO maSher.
''It seems to me. Dot" resumed poor
Dick Hardy, still temporiZing, lit seems
to me that just about one-third of the
earth'S products are wasted. Now, if
you will observe the practical economy
evidenced by the manner in which L am
pairing these potatoes"
''Dick, pve got plan'
Dot had closed the kitchen door softly
and was looking fondly and compassion
ately at ner husband.
Il know all about it, poor fellow. No
good news. You don't want to say it,
and you're just talking against time,
Dick. We might as well own up to each
other, mightn't we? We've-we've just
got to the very end, Dick?"
81 should rather think we had, Dot"
he admitted solemnly, looking hard and
digging vigorously at the eye of potato,
ITO the end, Dot, with the ID pulled out
of it besides"
I'VE sent the dining-room carpet out
to be cleaned six weeks ago"
fright you are, Dot"
land the chitfonier to be 'mended,
five weeks ago, Dick?''
"Just five weeks yesterday"
"And the parlor table to have the mar
BILE top polished four weeks ago to-mor-
row."
"You always were immense on dates
and figures, Dot"
"And the mantel clock to be repaired
the next week, and your easv-chair and
bookcase to your new office last Satur-
day?"
Richard Hardy stabbed a potato des-
perately and groaned outright.
"Poor, poor Dick" she continued ten
derly. 1--WE have done these things to-
gether, not only just to live through
these cruel, cruel times, but-and bless
your noble heart for it, Dicki-to keep
those poor old childish mothers of ours
from knowing the real truth. Gracious
me! Those potatoes must go on instantly.
Tll slice them fine, Dick, and they'll be
done in a minute"
Something in Dicks eyes or upon his
glasses caused him again to employ the
corner of the kitchen towel vigorously.
The potatoes were soon a-humming,
Dot filled the teapot with boiling water,
ready tor the drawing and the boiling
water again at the last moment. Then
the old-fashioned skillet, not a new
tangled broiler, was over the glow
ing Goals in a jiffy, with some butter
kissing around in its depths. She dex-
trously twirled the skillet until the rich
brown bubbles eddied furiously, when
the steak was dropped within, whirled
round and round, and turned for double
soaring before the slower and careful fry
ing. Then the good little helpmeet re-
sumed:
Tell me, honest now, Dick, have you
tried every possible means OF selling your
splendid work? Did you see the Miner S
Monthly folks?"
''Sure, Dot. Instead of taking another
story they begged SO eXquisitely to be re-
leased from using two 'Accepteds, that
hadn't the heart to refuse them"
"And the MetTopoIitdnH"
Treated me like prince! The editor
wanted me to dine at the club with him.
But the moment L ventured to suggest
MS to him, do you know he grabbed his
watch, reached for his hat and overcoat,
and gasping, Just five minutes to catch
the ferry, Hardy he fled, fled, Dot, en-
treating me to think over great serial;
to think it over hard-during my next
summers vacationp'
But the PtenthUry, Dick?"
"Ah, Dot, Editor Burnsiher is indeed
one of those who maintain that all space
is filled with matter His head lay upon
the desk as [ enterd He arose and ap-
preached me with, 'Ah. Hardy. my dear
boy. So glad to see you! He took my
hand in both OF his. He led me softly to
another room. We passed before a tre-
mendous safe. AS its huge doors swung
open he pointed, with ayerted head, to
his pigeon holes and their contents. Il
do not know what your feelings may be
at such spectacle, Mr.. Hardy he mur-
INJURED, but you may. perhaps, imagine
mine.' l hastily withdrew. Even the
II rot a m n fin0nr
dimmed with tears as Editor Burnisher
waved me sympathetic adieu. Dot,
what do you think [ saw on little plac-
ard hung against the stuffed pigeon-holes
of that PtenthltTy safe?'
my! Dick, how can | tell?"
She had put the steak upon hot plat
ter and was now stirring the butter and
flour softly in the skillet bottom for the
gravy.
"Well, Dot. twas just this:
Unused 1IJSS $50, ,OO0."
Dot thoughtfully stirred the golden
brown gravy until il began to thicken;
added another lump of butter and pushed
it back to let it simmer little. Then,
taking the plates from the warming
oven to the dining-room, she gave the
table a few finishing touches, asked Dick
to mash the potatoes, which he did with
hearty vim, not forgetting a splash OF
milk, a sprinkle of salt and bit of but
ter; and, after putting on the drawing OF
tea. asked, this time. a trifle timidly:
"Dick, what about the Sunday pa
pers?"
..Great Scott" exclaimed Dick hotly,
furiously beating the potatoes almost to a
lather. Now, now, Dot, don't. Why,
little woman, don't you know that the
Sunday papers are exclusively for ads,