523 
A * * nw» 
Wfc** 14 
Household experts tell us that 
the average housewife walks 
miles and spends years in pre¬ 
paring the meals for the family. 
It is an everyday task, year in 
and year out, and its effect 
upon the health and attractive¬ 
ness of women is only too well- 
known. 
Coal stoves and wood stoves are 
Insistent in their demands for 
fuel and attention. Hard to keep 
going and messy to clean. 
The New Perfection Oil Cook- 
stove burns kerosene — clean 
and odorless. It is practically 
automatic in its operation, and 
delivers a wide range of heat— 
bakes, broils, boils, roasts and 
toasts. It eliminates coal, dirt 
and ashes. It adds immeasura¬ 
bly to personal comfort because 
it keeps the kitchen cool. 
Ask your dealer to demonstrate 
the particular model which you 
like best, and which you will 
find in his store. Remember 
that eachNewPerfection model, 
whether it be the famous Blue 
Chimney or the fast-as-gas Sup- 
erfex, represents the utmost in 
cooking satisfaction at its price. 
NEW PERFECTION 
Oil Cbok Stoves and Ovens 
STANDARD OIL CO. OF NEW YORK 
BROADWA5T 
American Agriculturist, May 31, 1924 
The Broad Highway 
{Continued from page 522 ) 
inanimate figure, and, with our limp bur¬ 
den between us, we staggered and stum¬ 
bled up the path, and along the lane to 
where stood a light traveling chaise. 
“’E ain’t likely to come to this time, 
I'm thinkin’!” said the Postilion, mop¬ 
ing the sweat from his brow. 
“No,” said I; “no.” And stepping into 
the chaise, I muffled that disfigured face 
in my neckcloth; having done which, I 
closed the door. 
“What now?” inquired the Postilion. 
“Now you can drive us to Cranbrook.” 
“What—be you a-comin’ too?” 
“Yes,” I nodded; “yes, I am coming, 
too. 
“Lord love me!” he exclaimed, and a 
moment later I heard him chirruping to 
his horses; the whip cracked and the chaise 
lurched forward. On we sped, past 
hedge and tree, by field and lonely wood. 
And ever in my ears was the whir of the 
wheels, the drumming of hoofs, and the 
crack of the whip; and ever the flitting 
moonbeams danced across that muffled 
face until it seemed that the features 
writhed and gibed at me, beneath the 
folds of the neckerchief. 
And so at last came lights and houses, 
and the sound of excited voices as we 
pulled up before the Posting House at 
WHAT HAS HAPPENED 
T HE little Preacher has married Peter 
and Charmian. They return to their 
cottage and Charmian prepares their modest 
supper. Just then a voice is heard calling 
Peter. Both remember the threat of 
wicked Sir Maurice Vibart to “come 
between them, living or dead,” but Peter 
recognizes the voice of Simon, the innkeeper, 
who tells him “The Ancient” is dying. 
Peter feels he must go, though Charmian 
begs him not to leave her in the lonely 
Hollow, 
Cranbrook. Looking from the window", I 
saw a ring of faces with eyes that gleamed 
in the light of the lanthorns, and every 
eye was fixed on me, and every foot gave 
back a step as I descended from the 
chaise. And, while I stood there, the 
Postilion came with two white-faced 
ostlers, who, between them, bore a heavy 
burden through the crowd; and, as 
men saw that which they carried, there 
came a low, deep sound—wordless, in¬ 
articulate, yet full of menace. But, above 
it rose a voice, and I saw the Postilion 
push his way to the steps of the inn, and 
turn there. 
“My master—Sir Maurice Vibart—is 
killed—murdered down there in the 
’aimted ’Oiler!” he cried, “and, if you 
axes me who done it, I says to you—’e 
did!” and he raised his whip and pointed 
at me. 
Once more there rose that inarticulate 
sound of menace, and all eyes were fixed 
upon me. 
“ ’E were a fine gen’man!” said a voice. 
"Ah! so gay air light-’earted!” said 
another. 
And every moment the murmur swelled, 
and grew more threatening; fists were 
clenched, and sticks flourished, so that, 
instinctively, I set my back against the 
chaise. 
The Postilion, with a shout, sprang for¬ 
ward, his whip upraised. But, as he did 
so, the crowd was burst asunder, he was 
caught by a mighty arm, and Black 
George stood beside me, his fists clenched, 
and his hair and beard bristling. 
{To be continued) 
To Use Old Papers— 
WINDOW-CLEANING help is this: 
Instead of washing in the usual way, 
fake a ball of newspaper, moisten just 
enough to soften it and wipe off the 
window with this, turning the soiled 
Part in when necessary. Use a little 
kerosene in the water. This simple trick 
saves hard work and prevents scratching 
fhe glass. 
Paper torn in small bits, thoroughly 
soaked in water, squeezed partly dry and 
scattered on a carpet enables one to 
sweep it without raising much dust 
and leaves the carpet or rug brighter 
looking. 
A box of papers torn to convenient 
size and placed near the kitchen stove 
will often be found handy. Crumple 
some in the hand and rub the top of the 
stove when grease spatters on it or it 
needs a “cleaning hand” for any reason. 
Many times it will save the dirty work 
of washing the stove and results will be 
as good. If it is not handy to keep such 
a box near the stove, an old catalog might 
be placed on a nearby shelf. Or lacking 
the shelf, take a stout cord and opening 
the catalog in the middle hang it over the 
cord, which may then be tied at the ends 
and hung on a nail. 
The same arrangement near sink, work¬ 
table, cabinet, or in the pantry will be a 
help also. Paper may be used for greasing 
tins, wiping out dirty dishes, or in any 
one of a dozen or more helpful ways.— 
Mabelle Robert. 
Sweet Alyssum an Old Friend 
N O garden is complete wnthout an 
edging of sweet alyssum around 
some of the beds or growing in window or 
porch-boxes. It is one of the hardiest 
annuals, and blooms continuously until 
killed by a freeze. It is a very free 
bloomer, and as a trailer will spread over a 
space of a foot or more around the roots 
in rich soil, but can be readily made to 
form a more compact mass by some prun¬ 
ing. The seeds start easily and are cheap, 
so we can have them as plentifully as we 
desire. The blooms are beautiful for 
cutting and mixing into low" bouquets 
and are deliciously fragrant. I have used 
them for covering mounds and to hide 
bulb beds after the old tops have died 
down, as the seeds of the sweet alyssum 
may be sown earlier than most annuals 
and the young plants come early and 
take possession by the time the bulb 
tops are gone.— Bertha Alzada. 
I find so many practical suggestions in 
the American Agriculturist which suit 
people of small means, that I look forward 
every week to its coming. The article 
telling how to change shirt collars and 
cuffs which have begun to show wear, has 
already saved me the cost of the paper.— 
Mas. C. I. P., Pa. 
