1901 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
5o7 
Miss Jepson’s Tedder. 
The horse knew she was headed to¬ 
ward home, and jogged steadily along 
the road. It was late May, and the hills 
and fields were freshly green. Mrs. Jep- 
son sighed contentedly. “How lovely It 
is,” she said. There was a rapt expres¬ 
sion on her pale, aristocratic face as her 
eyes rested on the scene before her. Miss 
Jepson was driving, and she too looked 
acrOvSS the stretches of field and mea¬ 
dows to the hills beyond. Suddenly she 
stopped the horse with a jerk. She 
leaned forward, with parted lips and in¬ 
tent eyes. 
“Mother,” she said almost sharply, 
“do you see that?” 
“What, dear?” 
Miss Jepson pointed with one hand. 
“Right in this field,” she said rapidly, 
“under that old apple tree. Don’t you 
see? It is my tedder.” 
“Your tedder?” 
“Yes. Don’t you know, Mr. Tobey 
was the last one to have it, and he 
promised to house it for me through the 
Winter, and this is how he has done it.” 
Her voice was indignant, and her eyes 
flashed. “I haven’t been along this road 
since Fall. It was out there then, but 
he promised faithfully to put it under 
cover.” 
“Well,” said Mrs. Jepson mildly, “per¬ 
haps he did, and maybe he’s only just 
put it out here.” 
Miss Jepson turned back the lap-robe 
and handed the reins to her mother. “I 
can tell by looking at it,” she said, and 
she stepped to the ground. 
“Oh, don’t go!” cried Mrs. Jepson. 
“Suppose Dolly should start?” 
“You can stop her if she does,” said 
Miss Jepson briefly, “and besides, she 
won’t.” 
iShe let down the middle bar of the 
fence and crawled through. Then with 
a long swinging step she went across the 
field. One glance at the tedder was 
enough to show that it had been out all 
Winter. The tires were rusty, as were 
all the unpainted metal parts, and where 
the paint had been bright it was now 
dull and weatherbeaten. Miss Jepson 
regarded it intently. She was a person 
who made decisions quickly. She 
stepped between the shafts, stooped and 
lifted them, and then pulled. It started 
hard, but the field sloped ever so gently 
to the road, so it went along quite easi¬ 
ly after the first few rods. When she 
came to the fence she had to stop and 
take down the bars, then she pulled the 
tedder through and it went down the 
little dip to the road with a bump and 
clatter. 
“Oh, Mattie!” wailed Mrs. Jepson. 
“What will people think? What are 
you going to do? What will Mr. Tobey 
say?” 
Miss Jepson made no answer. She was 
somewhat out of breath, and besides 
was busy putting up the bars. When 
that was done she wheeled the tedder 
to the back of the buggy and rested the 
shafts on the hind axle. “Pass me the 
hitch-rope. Mother,” she cried in a mat¬ 
ter-of-fact tone. 
“You’re not going to take it home?” 
Mrs. Jepson cried, as she weakly passed 
out the rope. Her face was anxious and 
careworn. “Everybody will see us, and 
they’ll think we are crazy.” 
“There!” said Miss Jepson quietly, “1 
think that will hold till we get home.” 
She got into the buggy, took the reins 
from her mother’s hands, and spoke to 
the horse. Dolly had grown tired of 
waiting, so she started off briskly. The 
tedder followed with a tremendous clat¬ 
ter. The little projections on the wheels, 
as they passed over the hard road, shook 
the whole clattering sti’ucture. Mrs. 
Jepson tried to speak, but the noise 
drowned her words. At length a hill 
was reached and Dolly settled into a 
walk. This reduced the clattering so 
that Mrs. Jepson could protest feebly. 
Why couldn’t you have sent somebody 
tor it,” she said. “And why couldn’t 
you let it stay? Mr. Tobey will want it 
this Summer.” 
“He never will have it,” Miss Jepson 
cried hotly. “He’s lied to me, and he 
sha’n’t have it. I won’t lend it to any¬ 
body. I’ll have it in the front hall for 
a hatrack first.” 
They were passing a farmhouse now, 
and Mrs. Jepson shrank back into the 
farthest corner of the buggy. “I shall 
die of mortification,” she moaned. 
“Don’t be silly, Mother,” said Miss 
Jepson. “It’s milking time, so the men 
won’t see you, and the women are get¬ 
ting supper! ” 
They reached home at length, and 
Mrs. Jepson was so worn out with ner¬ 
vousness that she had to lie down awhile 
before she could eat supper. 
A day or two later Miss Jepson came 
into the house laughing. “Oh, Mother!” 
she said, “it is so funny. Mr. Tobey was 
going by and he stopped and offered me 
$15 for my tedder. 1 didn’t see what he 
was driving at and refused. Then he 
confessed very abjectly that he had left 
it out all Winter and that now it had 
been stolen. He felt pretty badly about 
it, but when 1 told him that I was the 
one who had stolen it and that I was 
not going to let it any more, he was very 
much astonished and went off in a rage. 
It is strange that no one who saw us 
should have told him of it.” 
“I think you are foolish to refuse to 
let the machine,” said Mrs. Jepson. “We 
are not exactly wealthy, and the money 
is quite useful; besides, the machine 
does you no good out in the barn there.” 
“I know it,” said Miss Jepson soberly, 
“but I have said it.” Suddenly she 
leaned forward and an eager, excited 
look came on her face. “Why, Mother!” 
she cried, “why couldn’t I run the tedder 
myself? I know I could do it, and I’d 
love to, and Dolly doesn’t have enough 
to do.” 
Mrs. Jepson looked at her daughter 
almost sternly. “You are not serious, 
Mattie,” she said. “I don’t like to hear 
you speak of such preposterous things.” 
“But I am serious,” Miss Jepson said 
earnestly. “Why shouldn’t I do it? 
There would be no impropriety in it. We 
have a reputation for eccentricity; why 
not live up to it?” 
“1 am sick of the way we live,” she 
went on vehemently. “Here 1 am, strong 
and well and able to do all kinds of hard 
work, and you won’t let me. We have 
a girl to do the housework, because it 
is the proper thing, and I spend my time 
reading, and writing letters, and making 
calls, and sewing. I hate it all. I want 
to do something different. The only bit 
of liberty I have is in taking care of 
Dolly. You let me do that because both 
you and Margaret are afraid of her. 1 
suppose you think that all there is to 
taking care of her is the feeding and 
watering. Did it ever occur to you to 
wonder what makes Dolly’s coat shine 
so? It is because I spend so much time 
brushing her. You didn’t know your 
daughter had such depraved tastes, did 
you? But the pleasantest hour of my 
day is when I am out working over the 
horse. Now I mean to go a step farther 
and take Dolly and the tedder and turn 
people’s hay for them.” 
“Mattie!” 
“Dh, Mother, dear!” cried Miss .lep- 
son, with a sudden change of manner, 
“don’t look at me so. If that is the way 
you feel about it. I’ll never do it in the 
world. Forgive me. I didn’t think you’d 
take it so.” 
“I never could hold up my head 
again,” said Mrs. Jepson, with a little 
sob. 
The June days came, and soon it was 
haying time and the clatter of the mow¬ 
ing machine was heard in the laud. And 
then one morning Mr. Lang—the Jep- 
sons’ nearest neighbor—drove into the 
yard and made a call on Mrs. Jepson. 
Half an hour went by, and then Mrs. 
Jepson sent for her daughter. 
Miss Jepson came into the room look¬ 
ing tired and discontented. Mr. liUng 
rose to meet her and shook her hand 
cordially. He was a handsome, elderly 
man, with a kindly, sympathetic man¬ 
ner. 
“Miss Mattie,” he began, when they 
were seated, “I came this morning to 
talk with your mother on a matter of 
business, but she has referred me to you. 
You see two of my hired men have left 
me, and there I have several acres of 
grass down and no one to turn it. I 
thought I might hire your tedder, but 
your mother tells me you have refused 
to let it any more. So I proposed that 
you might do me a great favor by taking 
Dolly and riding the tedder yourself. Of 
course I ought to have one of my own, 
and if you refuse to help me out, why, 
I shall have to go to the expense of get¬ 
ting a new one, I suppose. Your mother 
thinks perhaps you can be induced to 
do me the favor, so I want to see if I can 
soften your hard heart.” 
Miss Jepson was looking at her moth¬ 
er with dilated eyes. “Are you willing. 
Mother?” she asked. 
Mrs. Jepson did not look up. “Certain¬ 
ly,” she said with emphasis, while a 
slight color tinged her cheeks. “Mr. 
Lang has been too kind to us in times 
past for you to refuse to do a little thing 
like that for him.” 
Miss Jepson stood for a moment in 
speechless surprise, then her face light¬ 
ed with interest. “I’ll be over at your 
house in half an hour. I must put on 
my bicycle skirt first, and I think the 
tedder will need some oiling.” 
When she went out to the earn, Mr. 
Lang’s horse was still in the yard. She 
looked at it quizzically, then a puzzled 
expression came into her face. 
“I wonder how he did it?” she asked, 
as she reached for the oil-can. “Was it 
hypnotism, or something else? I don’t 
believe it was hypnotism; Mother has 
too strong a will for that. No, it must 
have been the other. Well, why not? 
It is romantic, of course, and eccentric, 
perhaps, but what of it? I’m sure he is 
a dear, and she is too.” 
And so Miss Jepson smiled a kindly 
and indulgent smile as she harnessed 
Dolly into her tedder. 
SUSAN BROWN ROBBINS. 
Suggestions in Jelly Making. 
“How do you get your jelly from the 
preserving pan to the tumblers?” 
“For ordinary tumblei-s I use a china 
coffee cup with a good handle, which 
holds more than the quantity required 
for each tumbler, but which if dipped 
deep enough in the preserve pan to get 
filled to within an inch of the top will 
pour easily into the glass without waste. 
You can get exactly the measure after 
one tumbler is filled. A saucer or small 
plate held in the left hand and moved 
with and under the cup will catch all 
drops. In case you do not fill a tumbler 
full from the first dip add the requisite 
quantity immediately afterward, so that 
all will stiffen together, otherwise there 
may be a separation in the contents of 
the tumbler when it is turned out.” 
“What is your general rule for making 
fruit jellies?” 
“Of course there are exceptions, but 
you will find the following a good rule: 
Wash and drain the fruit, put it into a 
stone crock or fresh enameled or granite 
ware pan; cover it with a large china 
plate. Set this vessel in another larger 
one of hot water; let it come to a boil 
and cook until the fruit in the inner 
vessel becomes tender. Do not let the 
boiling water get into the fruit. When 
it is tender enough it will begin to 
break. Now it is ready to pour into a 
freshly scalded flannel bag, which should 
be supported by tape loops at the top 
over a stick laid across two chairs and 
hung directly over a large china bowl 
or good enameled pan. The chairs may 
be lifted to a large table if more con¬ 
venient; they may be reversed and the 
rungs used to support the stick instead 
of the seat or back, thus varying the 
height. It is usually more convenient 
to place the bag near the stove, so the 
fruit can be dipped out without moving 
the preserve pan or kettle. When all the 
juice has run through that will come 
willingly the pulp may be squeezed into 
another dish. If you arrange to leave 
the juice dripping all night you will find 
MOTHERS.—Be sure to use “Mrs. Wins¬ 
low’s Soothing Syrup” for your children 
while Teething. It is the Best.— Adv. 
in the morning that there will be noth¬ 
ing to squeeze, but sometimes It is more 
convenient to hurry it up. Measure the 
drained juice, and to each pint allow a 
pint of white sugar and one-half of the 
beaten white of one egg. Mix together; 
put to boil rapidly; skim, but do not 
stir, as stirring will break the continuity 
and spoil the jelly. After 20 minutes 
try a spoonful in cold water; if it jellies 
it is ready to put into tumblers. Or try 
a spoonful on a cold saucer set on ice 
for a few moments. If it is boiled too 
long or too slowly it will be ropy; if too 
much sugar is used the jelly will be 
grainy. Ripe grapes jellied according 
to this recipe will require three-fourths 
of a pound of sugar to a pint of juice; 
so will apples and black currants. Fruit 
should never be used for preserving or 
jellying when gathered directly after a 
rain. It should be selected when just 
ripe and firm for the best results.” 
“Sometimes my jelly boils so fast it 
rises in the kettle, and I have to draw 
it back a little. Do you think it is hurt 
by moving it?” 
“•Not if you watch it and keep it boil¬ 
ing. Of course the fire should be looked 
after and a good and steady heat ar¬ 
ranged for before putting the juice to 
boil. If the coals are high in the grate 
it will probably be necessary to set the 
kettle on the lid, possibly removing it 
toward the finish. The juice should be 
watched, and when one reflects that 20 
minutes under ordinary circumstances 
is all the time necessary for the boiling 
it does not seem too much to devote to 
close inspection. The time is counted 
from the moment the bubbling begins. 
Sometimes you will find when fruit is 
very rich in juices that it will jelly in 
15 minutes. I have often made currant 
jelly and found it to thicken as soon as 
the sugar dissolved and it came to a 
boil. There is no cause for alarm if 
fresh jelly does not become hard in a 
few hours. The jelly-maker has the 
greatest success who seizes the first 
jellying moment and saves thereby to 
her family two or three tumblers that 
would otherwise be lost in evaporation. 
Tumblers should be filled to the brim; 
there is always a slight subsequen*^ 
shrinkage.”—Chicago Record-Herald. 
On Jellies 
pregerve.s and pickles, spread 
a tlun coating of retlned 
PARAFFINE 
WAX 
Will keep them abaolntely moistiiro and 
acid proof. ParaCBno Wax ie also uHefiil in 
a dozen other waye about the house. Full 
directions in each pound package. 
Sold everywhere. 
STANDARD OIL CO. 
NO MORE SPOILED FRUIT“™;"LTa":','S 
by using uiy Standard Patent Self Melting Self- 
Sealing Wa.v Strings. Very convenient and econom¬ 
ical. Inquire of your dealer or send me his name 
and 45 cents In stamps for 100 strings by mall. 
Mention this paper. C. C. FOUTS, Middletown, Ohio. 
The University of Notre Dame, 
NOTKE IJAME, INDIANA. 
Classics, Letters, Ecuiiuinics and History, 
•lournnlisni. Art, Science, I’lianiiacy. l.aw, 
(dvil. Mechanical and Klectrli-al Kiigiiicering, 
Architectui e. 
Thorouijh Preparatory and Comiiuirclal 
Courses Ecclesiastical students at special rates. 
Kooiiis Free. .Tunior or Senior Year, Collegiate 
Courses. Koonis to Kent, naoderate charge. 
.St. Edward’s Hall, for boys under 13. 
The 68tU Tear will open September 10, 1901. 
Catalogue Eree. Address 
KEY. A. MOKKISSEY, C. S. C., Preshleut. 
ST.MARY’S ACADEMY 
NOTKE DAME, INDIANA. 
(One mile west ol *he University of Notre Dame.) 
Conducted by the Slaters of the Holy Cross. Char¬ 
tered 185.5. Thorough English and Classical educa¬ 
tion. Regular Collegiate Degrees. 
In Preparatory IJepartinent students carefully 
prepared for Collegiate Course. Physical and Chem¬ 
ical Laboratories well equipped. Con.servatory ol 
Music and School of Art. Cyninasinm under direc¬ 
tion of graduate of Boston Normal School of Uym- 
nastlcs. Catalogue free. Address 
DIRU.C'PKKSS OF THE ACADEMY, 
St. Mary’s Academy, Notre Dame, Ind. 
“li! y!’ Conservatory of Music 
EDWAKD B. FLECK and ROBERT J. HUGHES, 
Directois. Music In all ns branches. Elocution, 
Languages, English Literature, Drawing, Painting, 
Physical Culture, Uaucing, etc. Faculty of distin¬ 
guished specialists. Uusurpassed Advantages 
for Tear Courses. Send for new catalogue. 
Address CONSERVATORY OF MUSIC, Utica, N.Y. 
