The Montgomery advertiser., 1905-08-20
SUNDAY, AUGUST 20, 1905.
PIES AND MACHINERY.

Any one who wants to touch the great American heart in its warmest and softost spot need only say~"pie." There be some few human beings who will not eat pie. but there is something sadly lacking in their physical make up. Their stomachs and appetites were not built on the right plan. Then there are some poor unfortunates who dare not partake of this triumph of culinary perfection because their degenerate or decayed appetites will not permit such delicious diet. They are subjects of pity.
 But to those highly favored members of the great human family who are qualified and permitted by kindly Prov idence to revel in the good things of this life the very thought of pie sends joyful thrills along the gustatory nerves and sets the mouth to watering in remembrance. or fond anticipation. But be it understood that we refer to real pies, such as mother or the old black nanny of the long ago manu- factured--those wonderful combina- tions of fruits and berries and flour and sugar and spices of which memory still retains a fond and vivid impression.
 We are profoundly of the impression that our old colored Aunt Mary was the champion pie-builder of all the country roundabout She had no book of recipes to go by, for she couldn't read. but she had experience, taste and that kind of sub ub-consciousness which -N..&, S1,n Nzyin Oara book knowledge would make a flat fall ure When she had gotten all the in- gradients and concomitants properly mixed and ready for the oven there was nothing more to be said. That pie was bound to be a success. and not only the little ones but those of larger growth would pronounce 1t good and very good. It mattered not whether the filin' was peaches or apples, ber- ries or yams or fat chicken, the result was sure thing.
 All these reflective "reminiscences have been brought forth by reading the following from a contemporary:
 How times have changed! A man in PIttsburg has invented a machine that will turn out forty complete pies every minute, or 24.000 every ten hours, There is an endless chain of pans one man pours in the dough through fun mel as the pans pass beneath; they move through a furnace which partly bakes them; as the chain moves on another man pours in the filling, then third man operates funnel which forms the 'lids"-the chain Is moving all the time through q furnace which bakes every minute. ready. and for the quick lunch counter, pass out through a chute.
 Now, will any one have the temerity to even intimate that the things thus ground out like bricks bear even a re- semblance to the delicious productions mother and Aunt Mary used to lock up from us? If he does. it shows that he doesn't know fine gold from pewter. Such machine pies may do for machine appetites. but for no other. True, much of what we eat and wear is the work of the machine, but that doesn't console us for the probable extinction of real pies. We had hoped that there might be some things the iconoclastic hands of modern improvement would keep of and out of. but we are losing faith. When it comes to eating and trying to digest pies which pour out of a machine at the rate of forty every minute we feel like swearing ofrA
 
 A really horrible story comes fgom New York in connection with (he