while they were poor and it was only

"We're ashamed of her, Margaret. She's not a lady, though I don't see why that should reflect on us, since she isn't a blood relation. And as to Miss Hamilton, haven't I made it clear to you that it would humiliate me unbearably to have my wife seen in company with my stenographer?"But Hiram said she wouldn't be able to do the washing like our hired girl did, and we couldn't keep her and the hired girl; and anyhow he couldn't have her living with us, her being a Mennonite. 'It stands to reason!' Hiram said. So she went back home again and I haven't seen her since. I pity her, too, livin' alone out there, as old as what she is. I can't think how she makes out, either! What makes it seem so hard is that she was such a good, kind step-mother to them all  her hard work that kept a roof over them for many years while their father drank and didn't do anything for them."
Margaret still made no comment, though she was looking very grave and thoughtful.
"Would it mebby make you ashamed, too," asked Lizzie, "before your grand friends in New Munich, to have her 'round, she talks so Dutch and ignorant?"
"No," Margaret shook her head, "I'm not 'proud and high-minded' like Jennie and Sadie."
"Well," admitted Lizzie confidentially, "I'm not, either; I told Hiram once, 'You have no need to feel ashamed of her. Wasn't Christ's father nothing but a carpenter?' But Hiram answered me, 'Och, Lizzie, you're dumb! Joseph was no blood relation to Christ.'. 'Well,' I said, 'neither is your step-mother your blood relation.'"
"I suppose," Margaret speculated, "if their step-mother had money to leave them, they wouldn't feel so 'high-minded' about her, would they?"
"Oh, no," Lizzie readily assented; "that would make all the difference! But, you see, she hasn't a thing but what she gets from the vegetables she can raise."
"I do begin to see," nodded Margaret.
"Danny never told us," Lizzie ventured tentatively, curiosity evidently getting the better of delicacy, "what you're worth!"
"What I'm 'worth?' He hasn't tried me long enough to find out. But I hope I'll be worth as much to him as you are to Hiram—giving him children and making a home for him."
"But I mean," explained Lizzie, colouring a little at her own temerity, but with curiosity oozing from every pore of her, "what did you bring Danny? I guess Jennie and Sadie told you already that I brought Hiram thirty thousand. And I'll get more when my father is deceased."
"Are both your parents living?" asked Margaret with what seemed to Lizzie persistent evasion.
"My mother died last summer," she returned in a matter-of-fact, almost cheerful tone of voice. "Pop had her to Phil-delph-y and she got sick for him, and he had to bring her right home, and in only half a day's time, she was a corpse already!" said Lizzie brightly.
"As though she expected me to say, 'Hurrah! Good for Mother!'" thought Margaret wonderingly.
"Did you inherit, too, from your parents?" persisted her inquisitor.
"All my virtues and all my vices, I believe," answered Margaret, turning away and walking to the door. "Shall we go down now?"
Lizzie took a step after her: "Maybe you think I spoke too soon?" she asked anxiously.
"'Spoke too soon?'"
"Asking you what you're worth. To be sure it ain't any of my business. But I thought I'd ask you once. Hiram would be so pleased if after you go I could tell him. He wonders so, did his brother Danny do as well as he did. But I guess I spoke too soon."
She paused expectantly.
"Never mind," said Margaret dully, again turning away.
"Say!" said Lizzie solicitously, "you look tired and a little pale. Would you feel for a cup of tea before you go?"
"No thank you, Lizzie."
Just here the door opened softly and Jennie and Sadie came into the room and went to the crib of the slumbering baby.

It Dunwing and crazy mouseworm

Sometimes Bull Sparra would retire to his private chamber. He would remain in there brooding for days, suddenly emerging to fire his warriors with grandiose schemes and wild ideas. No one dared to disobey him, even though half an hour later he had forgotten his previous foolhardy notions and wandered off to hunt worms. Later he would return to find that his plans had not been carried out. In a furious squabble of accusation and recrimination he would demote officers and promote the most unlikely soldiers from the ranks. Next day

Warbeak flew in from a lone wormhunt. She stood watching Matthias.

"Me hunt worms," she chirped. "Bring dandelions for

Matthias. Mouse like eat flowers."

Matthias replied in Sparra language, "Warbeak good hunter. Mouse like flower. Make good wormfood. Where be Dunwing mother?"

Warbeak pointed to the King's chamber. "Dunwing get Bull Sparra wormfood ready. King have no wife to make

food."

Matthias acted unconcerned. He pulled at the collar to

loosen it.

"Collar hurt mouseneck," he grinned. Warbeak shrugged sympathetically. "King say you weara. No can take off. Me sorry."

Matthias continued sorting through his belongings. He came across an unopened package. What a stroke of luck! It was candied chestnuts. Hastily he slipped them into the haversack, hiding the nuts from Warbeak. Under normal circumstances he would gladly have given them to his friend, but this was different. Matthias needed them as bait.

They continued gossiping until Dunwing returned. After a decent interval the young mouse spoke to her, "You go to King's room all lotta time." Dunwing nodded.

"Me only Sparra King Bull let into there," she laughed. "He lazy Sparra. Not make own wormfood." Matthias shared her laughter.

"Betcha King not know how to make own wormfood," he chuckled. "What you think, Dunwing? Matthias find a gift for King?"

206

The Sparra mother looked up sharply. "What mouse mean. Gift?" Matthias drew close and whispered conspiratorially. "You

*member how King Bull like mouse candynuts? Me find more. You take me. We give nuts to King."

Dunwing looked doubtful. "What for mouse wanta give nuts to King?"

Matthias spread his paws as if stating the obvious. "So King let mouse free. Wanta go back to mousehome."

Matthias held his breath and watched Dunwing. Finally tier face softened. She smiled sympathetically. "All right, Matthias. We try. Not do much harm, but 'member, not fttake Bull Sparra bad temper. He killee sure."The best way to reduce labour in refilling vape cartridge is by getting an oil filling machine! They have a small table top design and come with a year’s warranty. So, do some work with this machine!

With an inward sigh of relief Matthias swept up the packet of nuts.

"Thank you, Sparra mother," he said. "Mouse not make jbrouble for you. Nuts make King happy, you see."

With Matthias trailing behind her on his lead, Dunwing lapped on the slates which formed King Bull Sparra's wall. An irate voice came from within. ' "Fly 'way, Sparra! King wanta sleep."

-    Dunwing realized they had chosen a bad moment. Nevertheless she persisted, this time tapping harder. "Let in, King iferother. . Gotta gift for great King."

remain in the house that now

To Ida's intense anxiety, her landlady was unusually cool at the tea-table. She did not come up to Ida May's room that evening to chat, but announced that she had a headache, needed quiet, and would stay in her own room. Her presence during the long evenings had done much toward making the girl forget her sorrow, and she felt her absence keenly enough on this night when she had so much need of sympathy.

Feeling too restless to commune with her own thoughts, she concluded to read a book to fill in the time that hung so heavily on her hands.

Ida May descended to the sitting-room, where, she remembered, she had left the book on the table. She went down the carpeted stairs quietly, passing Mrs.[63] Cole's door with noiseless feet, that she might not disturb her.

As she stood before the door of the sitting-room, with her hand on the knob, she was suddenly attracted by the sound of voices from within, her own name falling distinctly upon her ears. She stood still with astonishment, for the voice that uttered her name was that of Frank Garrick.

Her first impulse was to turn quickly away; but the words that she heard him utter held her spell-bound.

Mr. Garrick was talking to Mrs. Cole in a low, excited voice, and what the girl heard filled her soul with wildest terror.

For a moment she stood irresolute; then her decision was made. As soon as the morning broke, she would leave that house.

She flew back to her room, her mind in a whirl, her brain dizzy with conflicting emotions. She sat down in a chair by the open window, and leaned her hot, flushed face in the palms of her hands. She was beginning to learn the lessons of the great, wicked world. How long she sat there she never knew.

She was planning about what she should do when the morrow came. Though she starved on the street, she would not go back to the telegraph office where Frank Garrick was; nor could she  sheltered her, where the woman who pretended to be her friend and counselor was deliberately plotting against her.

She had purchased a dress, cloak, and hat out of the money she had found in her pocket. This expenditure had reduced the little sum considerably; but she had been obliged to present a respectable appearance.

[64]

Where should she look for work in the great big city? While she was cogitating over the matter, Mrs. Cole appeared in the door-way with a glass of lemonade in her hand.

"I have brought you something very refreshing, Ida," she said. "It took away my headache, and it will make you enjoy a good night's sleep."

"Thank you, but I do not care for the lemonade," returned the girl, coldly.

Her first impulse had been to spring to her feet, and inform her that she had accidently overheard her conversation with Frank Garrick, and upbraid her for it in the bitterest of words. Then the thought occurred to her that discretion was the better part of valor—to say nothing, and leave the house quietly in the morning vacation rentals.

She had never talked with

“You’ll be interested again. You must be. Do you hear? You’ve come to the parting of the ways, Phil, and you’ve got to make a choice. You’re drifting with the tide, and I don’t like it, waiting for Time to provide your Destiny when you’ve got the making of it in your own hands. You’ve got to put to sea, hoist what sail you’ve got and brave the elements reenex facial.”

“I’m a derelict, Nellie,” he said painfully.

“Shame! Phil,” she whispered. “A derelict is a ship without a soul. You a derelict! Then society is made up of derelicts, discards from the game of opportunity. Some of us are rich. We think we can afford to be idle. Ambition doesn’t matter to such men as Dick, or Larry Kane, or Egerton Savage. Their lines were drawn in easy places, their lives were ready-made from the hour that they were born. But you! There’s no excuse for you. You are not rich. As the world considers such things, you’re poor and so you’re born for better things! You’ve got the Gallatin intellect, the Gallatin solidity, the Gallatin cleverness——”

“And the Gallatin insufficiency,” he finished for her.

“A fig for your vices,” she said contemptuously. “It’s the little men of this world that never have any vices. No big man ever was without them. Whatever dims the luster of the spirit, the white fire of intellect burns steadily on, unless—” she paused and glanced at him, quickly, lowering her voice—“unless the luster of the spirit is dimmed too long, Phil.”

He clasped his long fingers around one of his knees and looked thoughtfully at the rug.

“I understand,” he said quietly.

[142]

“You don’t mind my speaking to you so, do you, Phil, dear?”

He closed his eyes, and then opening them as though with an effort, looked at her squarely.

“No, Nellie.”

Her firm hand pressed his strongly. “Let me help you, Phil. There are not many fellows I’d go out of my way for, not many of them are worth it. Phil, you’ve got to take hold at once—right away. Make a fresh start nu skin.”

“I did take hold for—for a good while and then—and then I slipped a cog——”

“Why? You mean it was too hard for you?”

“No, not at all. It had got so that I wasn’t bothered—not much—that is—I let go purposely.” He stopped suddenly. “I can’t tell you why. I guess I’m a fool—that’s all.”

She examined his face with a new interest. There was something here she could not understand. She had known Phil Gallatin since his boyhood and had always believed in him. She had watched his development with the eyes of an elder sister, and had never given up the hope that he might carry on the traditions of his blood in all things save the one to be dreaded.  him before. Indeed, she would not have done so to-night had it not been that a strong friendly impulse had urged her. She made it a practice never to interfere in the lives of others, if interference meant the cost of needless pain; but as she had said to him, Phil Gallatin was worth helping. She was thankful, too, that he had taken her advice kindly event planner.

pistachios and white chocolate

I am not the kind of baker who makes lots of tall, beautiful layer cakes. It’s just not my thing. But, this time of year, I get such an urge to make layer cakes! I guess it could be the combination of Easter and Mother’s Day that makes me want to bake pretty things customer services jobs.

In any case, I took advantage of my layer cake whims and whipped up this beauty that features a lovely pairing of pistachios and white chocolate.

Pistachio Cake with White Chocolate Frosting is sweet DSE Maths Mock Paper, nutty, and wonderfully delicious! - Bake or Break

Along with cashews, pistachios are underused in baking in my opinion. Maybe it’s just my baking ? Anyway, I seem to get all excited when I can use pistachios in a dessert. In this case, a generous helping of pistachios goes into layers of moist, delicious cake. The flavor is wonderful, and there’s just the right amount of crunch.

Then, a simple buttercream jazzed up with white chocolate tops off those layers. As I’ve told you countless times and as is evident with my cake, frosting cakes is not my strong suit. I tend to keep it simple. For this cake, you just need to frost the top of each cake layer. You’ll get plenty of sweet frosting in each bite. Of course, if you’re a big frosting fan, make extra and frost the sides as well no1 cosmedic.

their subtlety and quality

I have seen olives harvested and pressed in Italy, Spain and in California. I’ve also gotten to enjoy delicious high quality extra virgin olive oils, fresh from the mill, and there is nothing like it. While there is better and better quality olive oil in the supermarket these days, Pomora gives you an opportunity to connect on a deeper level, to learn more about a specific olive farmer and olive oil production and to receive a set of three 250 ml tins of oil each quarter (the tins protect the oils from light and heat, to keep the oil as fresh as possible Dr Max ).

I got a chance to try the olio nouvo from both Southern Italian farmers, Antonio and Carmelo and the oils were very different. The one from Campania was pungent and peppery, the other from Sicily was milder and grassy. Both were wonderful! If you plan to be in Italy, you can even visit the farmer and see the olive groves. This subscription is flexible, you can adopt or just “foster” for as little as one quarter for $69 or a full year for $225. These extra virgin olive oils are best for finishing or flavoring so you can appreciate their subtlety and quality Bo Ying Compound Eu Yan Sang.

Why adopt? It supports the farmer, giving them a direct route to market so that they get a living price for their oil which in turn ensures that their businesses are sustainable and that they can continue to produce these very special oils .

This is a program that offers you a chance to try cured meats from artisans around the country and the world. It focused on producers who “purchase ethically treated animals, employ humane slaughtering practices, use locally sourced ingredients and have a passion for making exceptional products.”

I got to try the monthly box in March and it featured 4 amazing salami from Olympic Provisions in Portland Oregon, which included their Good Food award winning loukanika. You can subscribe for as little as one month or bimonthly or quarterly. In each shipment you or your gift recipient will receive 4-6 products, delivered in a faux-wood box and accompanied by a Meat Eaters Handbook which has detailed information about the products and how to enjoy them and even suggestions for what to pair with them. Single boxes cost $55 or $50 if recurring. Enter the promo code AMY25 (must be in caps) to receive a 25% discount.

Why subscribe? You’ll get a chance to try and learn about great artisanal charcuterie, from a wide variety of producers at a reasonable cost reenex效果.