The semi-weekly messenger. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1897-1908, 1905-08-11

UCiEy UIIcdhE-On NbeIdiiy oIuU6Q
with the largest and reddest berries
n smothered in real cream. and he
almost felt pity for those who were
not.
Mrs. Bowser felt that the eyes of the
world were upon her when she got
out her cookbook and set to work.
The cook offered no less than forty-iye
different hints and suggestions while
the cake was being made. but as o
of them vas thankfully accepted she
contented herself with secretly hoping
that the cake would be a failure. A
hoodoo certainly overlook it. 1t seem
ed to be all right when put into the
oven. and it seemed to be all right
when taken out and set aside to keep,
but when brought on the table at the
proper momen and when Mr.. Bowser
was feeling that he couldn't survive
another minute a transformation had
taken place. The cake was full of
humps and bumps. 1t was lopsided;
1t was bow legged; it was cross eyed
and red headed; it looked as if it had
made the trip to the Philippines and
back on an army transport. The cook
had a twinkle in her eye as she brought
it in. and Mrs. Bowser looked it over
and grew pale at the rate of a mile a
minute.
What in the name of Christopher Co
lumbus and General Jackson do you
call that" exclaimed Mr.. BOwser as he
half rose to get a better look.
IL thought it was a stra wberry
shortcake."
Didn't you think it was an old frost
bitten pumpkin that had been jumped
on by about forty s~choolboys"
II can't understand it. 1t was all
right half an hour ago"
We'll, in half an hour more it will
| probably be walking around the room.
If that's one of the old fashioned
strawberry shortcakes your mother
used to make it's no wonder your
father fell over a log at the age Of
forty and broke his neck"
"But 1 followed the cookbook"
Cookbook? You said you knew
how to make one"
I'll thought l did"
"And yesterday the cool thought she
did. God bless our homer
Mr.. Bowser went up to the sitting
room, and Mrs. Bowser followed. He
at once put on his hat and made ready
to go out.
"Will you be gone long?" she asked.
81 can't say. 1t may be hours be-
fore l return, and you needn't sit up.
You and your old strawberry short
cake can go to bed whenever you
| please. 1 am going down to a restau-
rant. I am going to order strawberry
shortcake. l am going to order and
order and order. I am going to eat
and eat and eat. I am going to sit
right there and order and eat until
the bill is a million dollars. 1t may
take five hours; it may take five
years."
He brought up in a restaurant five
blocks away and asked for old fash
toned strawberry shortcake. It proved
to be old fashioned. The crust was a
good imitation of leather, with a sal.
eratus lingering in the taste, and the
berries were so small in size and so
few in number that they ratified
| dEOuuu anu SctLltu 1OLcSOLuc. Il
Bowser wouldn't have eaten it at his
own table, but the thought that he
was spiting Mrs. Bowser put an edge
to his appetite and he worried along
until he had finished his third order.
The waiter betrayed no establishment
He had seen folks drop dead in that
restaurant. The third piece had hard.
ly been finished when Mr.. Bowser felt
a pain. 1t was neither in his toe MOI
heart. Before he could turn pale he
was seized with a second. He got up
and started for the door, out was
called back and characterized as a
| deadbeat because he had forgotten
the bill. This brought him other pains
By the time he reached the door be
vas having it hard, and a sympathetic
policeman who noticed his condition
laid a hand on his shoulder and said:
GO home, old man. You've taken
couple Of drinks too many, but I dom
want to run you in"
at isn't whisky, but our strawberry
s~hortcake," explained the waiter at thu
door. 1--WE call the brand the Non
pareil, and it will knock EN- out every
time"
Then the officer rang for the ambu
lance and Mr.. Bowser was sent home
He arrived at his gate with sever
groans and a sigh, and was helped int
the house and the doctor sent for. A
the end Of an hour the medical maj
said to Mrs. Bowser:
"Oh. yes, he will live, and about tur
nip time he will eat a bushel or TIVE
of raw ones and a my service:
again. The only way you can kill hin
is with an ax!' NJ. QUAD.