Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1922-05-18


mothers used to make, and after a
Broadway chef with salary twice
that Of college president had put
the Newburg in lobster, an entire ma
ton took to talking in its sleep and
showed coated tongue. Gluten bread,
beef steak cubes, predigested tablets
and painless pastries began to figure
largely in street car advertising.
That dark-brown taste began to as
sumo national proportions.
Dietetics became college elective.
The old Cadillac Springs house,
just ready to peter out in favor of APP
pendicitis hospitals and neurasthenia
-sanatariums, was suddenly bought up
by an Indianapolis promoting COM
pany and an eight-hundred-th thousand
dollar eight-hundred-room hotel with
three miles Of veranda and golf course
rose from the wood ashes Of the for
mer frame hosiery.
Cadillac Springs water, which had
probably for odoriferous and sodium
sulphatic cons gushed up and seeped
back into the floor of the mild old In
diana fatlands, was suddenly piped,
analysed and advertised to the last
decillion of iron oxide and magnesi-
UNI carbonate.
Men who had long since ceased to
approach breakfast except as a spirit
ed horse is led blind-folded past a
steam roller, with quivering lips and
ready to take fright at broken yolk
of the poached-on toast or tiny
brown stain beside the percolator,
learned here to linger over eggy
dishes and market quotations.
Thanks to the liver, life became
once more worth living, and the great
American porterhouse swan back into
favor on sea of best cooking butter.
Marcus kessler, of Peoria, upon
whom corn flake lay none too light
ly, retired fearlessly after three por-
tions of pudding a la Cadillac and a
very black demi-tasse. For the first
time in half a year of months, Mrs.
Kessler slept as sweetly as night
nurse on duty.
AS Mrs. Kessler rocked on the great
yeranda her fingers flashed busily
through the intricacies Of crochet,
sunlight teasing at her needle. A smile
came out on her lips and rose grew
in her pattern, and presently sha-s
dow lay across the lace and she
glanced up, still smiling.
s'Good morning, Mrs. Washaueri'
NGnnd Mrs.
thought l was the only early bird"
'Indeed, no! Since seven l been up
and downstairs with my crochet.
That's what a good night my husband
had. Sit down by me, Mrs. Washauer,
and be sociable."
Il see, Mrs. Kessler, you do the rose
pattern, too" She screwed herself
with a rustling of black taffeta into a
porch chair, laying her short arms out
full along the sides.
Eyes, my husband feels so much
better, I got the heart right away to
take up my fancy work again. Lace
edging for Della's shirtwaist l make"
II never. Mrs. hessler, seen man
improve more as your husband"
when I tell you, Mrs. Washauer,
that when we came here little more
as a week ago, every time what l
looked at that man 1 busted right out
crying, you can know how he looked"
Say, wasn't my own husband for
two years such yellow In color we
didn't expect him to live? For twen-
ty-one months, Mrs. Kessler, to sit
down to our table at home was like
to sit down to funeral, on such
diet he was"
Don't know, Mrs. Washauerl My
own husband, what never in his life
gave his daughter or me a cross word,
hollered so at me I was ashamed for
the neighbors, when one night at sup
per we wouldn't pass him the sauer-
braten like the doctor forbid"
Say, you can see for yourself, Mrs.
Kessler, how even the big millionaires
from New York come here for the
cure"
II should say so! Right next to our
table in the dining-room sits that Mrs.
Van Ritz out of the newspapers, with
her yellow hair so marceled, and eyes
like she was always looking through
her lorgnettes, even when she amt"
But how plain them big bugs are,
amt it? At breakfast this morning
not so much as a diamond bracelet
did Mrs. Van Ritz have on"
Always at night she makes up for
It,"
''When you come right down to 1t,
! can tell you there's few million
dollars sleeps every night under this
roof. Tom Riley, himself, to begin
with. And they say, Mrs. Kessler.
this hotel amt one-third his holdings"
You don't say sol Like to own
such gorgeous hotel amt enough
In ITSELF"
A large ruminative sigh escaped
Mrs. Washauer somewhere from the
deep recesses Of her. She was fitting
violently. her head pat back against
the rocker back.