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OR, THE PTER XXX. 0 time after landing in ace lionieward, us (.‘lI‘C\i‘. railway station n of n cold. clear Janâ€" was surprised not to 'ecogani-d in the fam- ‘liv ilynian, on being 0 Redwoods, asked edivuy's place, lllarâ€" s, knows that. 'TiS ride and the roads on the as you can." silviit with the silt-lice of snow, silâ€" \V'llltC, snowy but not .lf’,‘ town snow is a sorry cle, chill, e of all the soils and slams inciâ€" dent to poor humanity. Yet there was no sludge, no cence penetrating to the very marrow with its chill; the sun was shining, the White topped roofs were outlined ligtl. farm inst ) upon a clear pale sky, the icicled eaves sparkled as the long spikes melted and froze and melted and froze again; the snow was trampled into yellow-brown powder in the roads, on which the horse’s feet struck now and then with a mufiled thud. \ The grammar school alone looked 'more Venerable and pictureSque than yusual, its gray walls tufted with feathery drifts of unstained snow, ‘ts gabled roof, mullions, and drip tones traced in white snow-lines, its leafless lime-trees showing a trac- ery of mingled pink and white branâ€" ches against the freezing sky. Philip thought of his early battles in the play-ground, and of that "big brute Brown," now a peaceful and subâ€" stantial young iradesman, a good deal hen-peeked by a fierce little scrap of a wife. Matthew Meade had pinched to send him there at first. It was scarcely two years since the death of Matthew and Martha; almost expected to see the former leaning over the half-door of the mill when he passed. The wheel was still, adorned with jewelry, and laceâ€" work of icicles sparkling against its black steps; ice sheets spread the banks half over the water, swans floated in the centre, pigeons wheel- ed in the sunshine, but a strange face looked from the open half-door, leanâ€" ing there as Matthew had leant. There was no goldâ€"haired child clingâ€" ing to his hand. The great willow, under whose leafy boughs he had lain and longed to be a man, dropped its yellow branches over the snowâ€"cover- ed grass. The town passed, the country spread pure and stainless beneath the pale blue sky. into which the rose of sunset was softly stealing. This white, soft, soundless robe is a. bridal vesture or a shroud, ac- cording to the gaker's mood; to Philip driving too slowly over the noiseless road. it was a Wedding garment. With every hushed fall of the horse’s feet he drew nearer to Jessie, to the one being who shared the memories of youth and the af- fections of home with him. How glad she would be! Perhaps, after all, he ought to have written to an- nounce his arrival, but there is something so attractive in the thought of coming unespectedly upon long absent friends, and surprising the warmth of their hearts. A dream of Jessie’s joyous surprise and warm welcome had floated before him for weeksâ€"another and brighter dream, belonging to the warm country of mystery and marvel he had left he- hind, was resolutely banished to a deep recess of memory. Some day Jessie must hear of it, but not yet. Perhaps they would each have some- thing to forgive, but. Jessie's shrift would be short and easy, lie was sure. They drove but slowly, for the snow was deep and drifted in places; the horses feet balled from time to time; after he might almost as well have walked and so \varmed his blood in the pure keen air. What a charm the dazzling white country with its bluc shadows, its peeping roofs and trees, had for one fresh from India! how truly English it was! He had almost forgotten the deep inerudicuble dearness of Engâ€" land to a true Englishman in the fascination of India, and almost for- gotten in another more powerful fasâ€"i ciiiation the strength of family ties. But now he remembered that Jessie was all he had in the worldâ€"father and mother. home and country, duty and domestic nfieclion. all met and were symbolized in Jessie. to he had thought of he! as dependâ€" ing on and needing him, but now in the strong: and sudden iniush of long dormant feelings. caused by the sight. of home and country, he realized hiS' own dependence on and need of Jesâ€" sie. She was to know nothin: n” his reasons for throwing up his appointâ€" ment and coming home so suddenly. she would doubtless be . he should come for her l‘u'linl' have her sent out to him; it appear in the light of a clli\‘.ill‘uliS deference that could not. fail to charm a girl. would he l The snowy fields were stained in pure hues of iose and crimson. orâ€" ange and amber. as the sun sropped e stepped out upon the down in tho nest. then they guth to Violet and dl‘ill i.li- (ll-l‘lly gleam \iiis l‘t‘llvt‘li‘tl upward on tho depressing. surges-1 muddy dcliques-, hel from: Hithch pleased that. than ‘ MISSING ,Cold dusk air. 'l'liure is nothing so ‘rlcsolnle :is llll' white glinini of snow out and the darkness broods over the {COI‘psPâ€"likt‘ pullin'. Body and mind lalike yii'ld ll! tlui c‘i'nt ‘Clllil of the moment. Philip's heart Sank with itll indescribiiblc forebodâ€" liiig, and he was glad to see the ‘gleuin of Cottugi- windows as they ii‘naclicd the village and saw“ the boys you V014,)" sliding and snowâ€"balling on the green He jumped down and walked swiftly ion, telling the flyinan to follow to ‘lllf‘ farm, the chimneys of which were now visible in the distance. The woman of the village shop and post.â€" ollice looked after the tall-grown, foreignâ€"looking man and wondered iwlio he was. "Somebody for the Court, I recâ€" kon," she said, turning away to sell bullseyes to a ruddy :i.~ she had often served them to Philip, who had. passed many a holiday week at Red~ woods. Here was the great elm to the top of which he had once dared Roger to lti._ climb, and from a limb at which Roger had fallen with an appalling thud, but quite unharmed, to the ground. He hastened on, thinking that this rough, blufi Roger was afâ€" ter all a strange housemate for so dainty a creature as Jessie. His pace quickened to a run, hurrah! There was the red light of the sitt- ingâ€"room fire, suddenly leaping up and streaming over the shining snow- laden evergreens without, like a bea- icon light to guide him home; Jes- sie’s hand perhaps had stirred the fire to that leaping blaze. His hand was on the wicket and he was about to open it. when the red glow vanished. strangely daunting him, a hand closed the shutters, he felt himself shut out in the chill gray snowâ€"light, and instead of en- tering by the front door went round through the farm-yard. where the cows were pulling hay from racks, and so in by the kitchen. “Hullo!” sang out Abraham, who was stumping heavily in with a pitchfork in his hand, on feeling Phil- ip‘s strong grasp on his shoulder, “who be you? What be ye up to?" They were just in the red glow of the outer kitchen doorway. Sarah was busy at the hearth, breaking and piling up faggots of furze to boil a swinging kettle, the dark smoke- browned Walls were lit up by the dancing blaze. “Lord 3, mercy I” Abraham cried, recognizing Philip on turning, “here's Master Philip lWhatever be us to do, Sarrow‘?" “Master Philip!H cried Sarah, dropping the billhook with which she was chopping her iaggots and comingv ,3 ml l(lllt'1_\" red i l l . .(‘t'hoed Mrs. after sunset, boim‘c lllt‘ stars Sparkle» ‘ mother, [against him. the only creature who had a welcome for him. Philip stood very squarely in the midst of them, his hronzed face gu‘owing lbloodlcss. his heart beating with low pry of the hurried tlirohs. "Where," he Said, strained. uniintaral Jessie?" “.lessicl" the three echoed (lifâ€" l'orinu’ tom-S: of display. "Why, you don't. seclii quite right. somehow, l’liilip.” cried Mr. l'llllnlili'i’ "'l‘i‘oulile lii-\ turned his brain," added Mrs. Pluniniur, dismnlly. “Can this be ll burl ilrwiiin'V' asked Philip, hlr «yes diluting. “Where is. my Sioln-l""l liv l'cl'i‘iiltrtl. t‘llavcii't you licur(l'."' :islxi-«l Rotter. "Why, mother," .iddul, “l’liilip don't. know. 'l‘bore \iiisn't time for him to get the letter, come to think of it." “Sure at last. in voice. “where :l is in lit‘ enough, more there was," l‘lllllll‘llf‘l‘. “You don't mean to 891V. Pliilil‘. ,\mi‘\i- :i (‘Oltlt‘ it“ the \\'2ll\ home not knowing ‘.’ Dear heart, what trouble. what troiililr» ! The walls seemed to be rushing round him, his lips were so dry and a t'liuii‘ to s’ti-ml) "ls sheâ€"is in a misâ€" still; he rauglit at liiiiiscll‘. and stoinnioreil : slitkirli-nd ‘2" the last word stopping. forâ€" while he “llriiik, (‘rit'tl lltig‘t'i , ward and catching] liiiii pushed a chair under llllll. give him drink." Mrs. l’lummer hustled quickly to the cupboard by the lll‘f‘llli’lt't’, whence she brought a spirit decanter and a tumbler, and pouring out. a draught. of raw brandy, gave it to Philip. Then the darkâ€"red mist cleared from his eyes, he looked at Mrs. Plummer's black dress. thence to her tearful face, and thence to the trou- bled faccs of Net and Roger. "She was so young," he said. “thev were so devoted to her." "She had grown up fine and slim_, poor maid," added Nat. Plummer; "you’d scarcely have known her again, Philip." “How was it?" he asked, choking something down and speaking stead~ ily; “how did it. happen? She was always so healthy, never ailed that I heard of. Tell me all." He looked straight before him; they looked at each other mutely. “'All’s a good deal when all's said," Mrs. Plummer replied at last. oracularly; “you've come off a jourâ€" ney and had a shock. hadn’t, you bet- "Hullol" tor wait till you've taken someâ€" thing?" ' "No, no," he replied, quickly, “nothing can matter if she is dead." “There's worse than death, Philip "Mother! ' ’ up. “If you must have the worst, Philâ€" cried Roger, starting ip," said Mrs, Pluminer. "the best we can hope is she’s dead." “She is dead,” muttered Roger through his clenched teeth. "There is a doubt"? There was an accident?” asked Philip, trembling with he knew not what, sickening horror and remembering his vision of Jessie months back. "She‘s gone, poor child. and we hope she may be. dead." continued Mrs. Plummer, “for there's disgrace behind. i "No, no,’ cried Roger, “it. is talk. Philip, vil-e talk. and it drove her be- side herself. If any man uses that word of her,” he added, excitedly, “I knock him down. As sure as fate I knock him down.‘ “So do I,” echoed Philip. . 1 Mrs forward. “Why ever couldn’t you hide out in India? Whatever be yc. come here for?" 3 "For Jessie, to be sure," he replied i giVing her a hearty kiss. “How are. they all? You look as sound as a bell, Sarah." “There , sit down by the fire, do,"i she replied, hysterically, at the same‘ time pushing him into a wooden. chair. “I 'lows you be pretty nigh1 shrammed with the coold. Shet the‘ door, ye girt zote, do," she added, lfalling foul of the unlucky Abraham, who had remained in the doorway as if transfixed, with the fork held triâ€" dentâ€"wise in one hand and his mouth and eyes wide open. “And Mis-sus ’ll be that mad." she added. Just then Roger came in by anoth- er door, and Philip rose to shake hands with him, s'curcely noticing that Roger's once ruddy face was pole. and that he walked with a stick. ' . "Glad to see you," Roger said,,E from habit and courtesy, “but whatâ€" cvcr's the good of shutting the door when the stecd's stolen!" he added. Philip scarcely heeded this enigmaâ€" ‘ticul speech, but followed Roger to‘ lthe sitting-room, where Cousin Jane' lwas seated by the tire opposite her husband. i They looked tranquil enough: all “Lord save us!" exclaimed Plummer. “For pity's sake Roger away, Plummer." “Go on out. Roger, and leave it to mother and me,” said his father. layâ€" ing his hand on the young giant’s shoulder and pushing him to the door. which he closed and locked up- on him. “Tell me all," he was gone. “To be sure ’tis a hard hearing for take l’hilip said when ye, Philip. and a hard telling for me,” Mrs. Plummor replied, “and sorry I am for her. heaven knows. I acted for the best. I'm sure. and 1 never had any fault to find with her and never knew but all was right. the very day she went ofi " "Went otl‘â€"" echoed Philip. staring blindly before him “We thought she was gone to Miss Blushford’s,“ added Nat. “We heard nothing of him." "And all the country talking," conâ€" tinued Mrs. l’lummer, "and even Abram and Sarah knew it; there Wasn't a creature in the place that didn't know. I wouldn't speak against her, and she, poor l'llll(l. gone, but I must say there was caption in her, such as never was." “Yes. she kept. it close, poor lass, poor lass?" added Mr. Plummer, with agitation; “'tis always like tliatnvith {surely was well, and yet an uneasy ;forebo-ding checked the words upon‘ lliis lips when, his eyes having swiftâ€" ;ly and vainly sought the gleam oil iJessie's golden hair in the ruddy" ,liglit, he would fain have asked for , her. : “Merciful Powers!" exclaimed Plummer, lifting her hands in iniay, “ii it isn't Philip!" 1 “Philip!” echoed Mr. Plummer, risâ€" Mrs. disâ€" iiiig. "Lord help the boy, whatever Ibl't)UQ’llt you here?" l’liilip stopped. lookinQ‘ at them i silently, with a nightmare dryness in' his throat. Mrs. I’lunimer's round‘ face had 2i pinched look, the corners 101‘ her mouth had a more settled ’downwurd tendency than i‘orinorly,’ illt‘l‘ gown was black. Nat l’lumnicr‘ ‘lmd a, bewildered air, the. set of {Roger's ont‘c jovial face was tragicl lhe pushed his tan}:ch curls off his strong \vhitc forehead. and his blue eyes gazed at Philip's boiling iacc , with n wistful pity. ()ld Febastopoli :the maimed cut, rose and limped up to the newâ€"conivr on her three rubbing" purring and ; he lags. [all “10 affectionately , Jessie, the girls when led away." Philip’s head sank into his hands; thought of Matthew's and Martha's pride in the child. and the cure ho had taken to fence her from the very knowledge of evil, the itliouglit of his own reverence for her. Jessie lind bccn lhc \‘cl'y symbol iii purity to him. and he had to sit still and listen while she was pitii-il and partially excused, to sew lll'l' honor tl'lllllzll in the dust in the sight of all the world, to llt'kll' llt‘l‘ unnu- iii the mouth of (lrunkartls anti “1 the mercy of all i-vil tliougliis and venomous imaginations. Little Jes- sie, his own sister! Matthew's iiiâ€" noceut child! "Go on, lull llll‘ all." he said, heavily. And so gradually tl‘w \vliolu pitiful story came out, the stolen meetings in the wood. the talk, the secret (lis- ti‘ess‘ that was \\(‘J.l‘ll‘.! the unriuppv girl‘s life out, the supposed visit to the old school mistress and the dis- appearance t'ilSL‘in’l’t-il so lain. 'l‘l in fruitless i-E‘m'ts to rliscovcg interview with Sir Arâ€" de- ‘ lthur, the written disclaimer of .(Ilaudu Mm‘iway. while was shown ,‘hlni. as Well as Jessie's own furn- iwell to llt‘l‘ cousin, lastly the iiisrov bnndkercliii-i b_\ the rivvi» side and Rogers slll‘llllS‘vs iiile‘li upâ€" illl it. ill‘ (lid not interrupt llll‘ narrative. lll‘t'lll"’l\1‘lllltl oitini il'l'r'ly'Wdlil .is ll Was; he rill still in a kind of stony 1pm ' mm i-, ‘ while the story poured upon his tingling: mirs like molten metal ‘.v\iid when TllI' hilx‘ \iiis dour he sat on silent i:. llic saint" posture. ‘ “l on: .iimid." hl' mill, "1 am wil‘rniil slut lti still nlinn \mi yvtâ€"-- ll~ ~‘lw luitl iiiwl~ lll ll'l' ili"r|l.ill’~â€"*H i "\\i-l], tlii-i’v, up inin't ,ilti-l‘ it. whatever 'tis," suiid \ll’ l‘luiiiiiiz-i‘ “n.- (im all no tvmiid in find bwr. ,lliit tl: ll bu\ si.-i_ew~ nil- \llllillr .mer‘ \H'lll \iith that box')” ' “.\nil liur paints nntl lliiuu's slin was so 5M on." ililllt'll his wife “lloger he will ll.‘l\1' it the box was million.” QIINO. llf‘m’y :is it (‘t‘illit' upon me, and ,iiig‘ tlnuglitor l‘Tli/ii t‘tllllllll‘ll and her husband with no more sense than a ilt.ltll0(l can: There we linl him on his. back for :i (‘tlllllli‘ of mo tlis as helpless as a babe. cls‘e bed a been all over the country looking for her and stirring up talk upon talk," Philip listened as one who hears nothing. mechanically stroking his old Crimean Comrade. who sat purrâ€" ing on his knee the while, until touched a tender Plzlt‘o in her st ed body and made her swear. “Poor Sebastopol," he said. strokâ€" ing her with more cii'ciinisppction “poor old puss!" Then he burst into tears (To be Continued.) ____+_‘ SIGHT TO THE BLIND. French-Canadian’s Success in His Experiments. A Paris despatch London Leader says :â€" 'l‘here is an activeâ€"braiiied little Canadian professor named Charles Dion, the director of the institute Ophtlialmique, in the Rue (le Hennes, who is attracting some attention in Paris as the inventor of an instruâ€" ment for massaging the eye. I happen to know he has cured sevâ€" cral cases of myopia. or short sight, and in half a dozen cases he has en»- to the abled patients who were perfectly blind to see well enough, not to read, but at least to walk. The apparatus consists of two tubes with polished glasses, which are fixed on the closed eyelids, the operator regulating the pressure by a dynamonieter. What happens through thus massaging a myope is the restoration of circulation in the eye. That is the simple feature of the Dion process. I have seen scores of letters lll. Dion has received from delighted patients. Before 1850, when a boy of 13, he had made a tricycle, which his father kept as a. curiosity for 20 years He was a collaborator with Edison in the seventies. In 1867 he had invented in Montreal the first tele- phone fire alarm. In a perfected form that alarm is still used in thc Banun de France. He had a share in the discovery of the phonograph. 1 have seen a document belonging to M. Dion, dated March 11, 1886. It is his French patent for “a new system of wireless telegrapliy," and foreshadows, and in some measure anticipates, the discmei'y of Mar- L‘oni. For the last ten years he has deâ€" voted himself to perfecting his appliâ€" ance for regulating defective sight. He tells me he is shortly going over to London. where he hopes to demonâ€" strate the value of his apparatus in one of the eye hospitals. __+â€"~_ MAKING THE RICH PAY. ‘â€" Socialistio Town Council Raises Price of Soaps. The new Town Council at Brest. France, which is socialistic and reâ€" ivolutionary to a man, hold a char- ‘actei'istic sitting recently. After dcâ€" ciding upon the dismissal of practiâ€" cally the whole police form- for dar- ing to interfere with the outbreak by ithc dorkers and laborers on strike, 1and passing a resolution calling upon the commander of the troops either to withdraw or (lisui‘ln his men, the (‘ouncil proceeded to raise the octroi duties on all luxuries, including a special tax of 12f. upon scented soups. "My wife has to put up with plain yellow soup." said one member. “and ii the llllt‘ ladies must have theirs scented let them pay for it." The observation met with (Tics of "lining hear." The maximum duty was (lw villi-(l upon for full-length lookingâ€" i1lzl$f~‘5 and dressing tnbll-s. the depu- Iy imiyor pointing out that nn-inbers' wivtrs had to be (‘tlll‘l'lll with haul mirrors. win-runs ginirdwr folk were not satisfied unlo-s they could see llu-l:1~rl\'i'C lt'niii Maid in foul. ‘IAllli'l cries of “Sluiim.” and “Make thw- l‘i-t'Jiii‘s pay "l \'.lii»n the ll:t't"l!.£.' was adjourned the mayor lllilll!"wl that several oibpr propositions of n sunilur charâ€" zutov' would probably lw brought forâ€" -.\:I.:‘d at ibn lh'VI meeting of lllv' Council. 1' is not til-tell. lll‘ titliiwl, .imy yl.- working man had such il gli-i'iotls opportunity of retaliating upon his tusl-.-mu<teis. “lliit why should she pack it ‘2" :islxt‘il T‘liililt. “ltogiir thinks 'lwiis for .1 blind, illogor would lime found lit-r dead or‘ alive, if anybody could a (itllll' it; he'd a pulled the moon out of the sky belui'o he'd give in. llut there he b-ll till :i wiiirtiii loaded with stl‘v'iw ‘ and broke his thigh soon lifter, :lllll I often think ii was» :i mercy iii (lis- t gfiESSfié§S§SS§gfifissaéeascip About the ....Housc sessiases. ll V. w l V ‘9’ \V t‘, owesaeea» rwaashesssssp» \.\l.l'.\lll.l4‘. HINTS, llnioi'n turning out n pudding ai- ‘\\'il_\'.\ let it sinui for three or {our ‘lllllilllcs to allow the SLL'LLlll to esâ€" ,cupe. ' To test an oven for baking sponge and pound i'ulxcs. put into the oven . plum,- ot' “lll'l‘ [‘Illlt'l': look at. it alter the minutes, \ilnn it should be vel- liiw ii' the lll‘lll 1\ Nil” :‘IlllLIll lulu-s nnd ca-tvl puddings re- quire a but mien “llll the shelf put (H‘ill' the top. but large. rich cakes rmluire slow batting after the first ltucnty minutes. To prevent. n beetroot that is brok- troni losing its color in cooking, burn it with a redâ€"hot poker. This will form a new skin and prevent it blending. l (‘11 Try glycerine for removing stains ‘til‘ 101i and coffee from table linen. i’i'ot'ure it if good quality, and with ‘11, rub the affected parts, afterwards ,‘wosh the linen in the ordinary way. Wash lislv thread stockings in tepid water with a little blue; use only bmled soap. and that. for the feet only. Rinse thoroughly in water con- tuiniu g a few drops of ammonia, and hang to dry, but'not in the sun. An excellent furniture polish. Dip ,a clianiois leather in tepid water, take it out and wring it dry. Rub the furniture with this and it will remove all finger marks, stains, etc., more effectually than any prepared polish, and will make the wood ap- pear as good as new. HO" water cans and jugs will last much longer if. instead of being hung in the usual way, they are turned upside down directly they are emptied. Always keep a zinc tray in the pantry for this purpose. R is the few drops of water in the bottom which cause them to rust in- to holes. Baked milk tastes very like cream and is most nourishing. Put new rich milk into a stone jar, with a. cover, and bake for several hours in a steady, moderate oven. If you have not a cover for the jar, cover with greased paper, and tie down carefully. Served cold with stewed fruit this is excellent. Ink can be removed from paper, if the stain is not too old, as follows: ii'l‘ake a teaspoonful of chloriated lime and add just enough water to cover it. Take a soft cloth, moistâ€" en it in the mixture, and pat (do not rub) the stain gently, and it will slowly diSappear. If one appli- cation is not enough, try a. second. To clean brown boots. First put the boots on the “trees.” Then put a little soda in some tepid we.â€" ter. Wash the boots with saddle Soap. using it as dry as possible, on a soft bit of flannel. Wipe off the soap, but do not make the leather very wet. Leave in the air to dry. Then polish with any good brown boot polish. In making cheese sandwiches put the yolks of two hard-boiled eggs into a basin with a tablespoonful of butter; beat them up together until quite smooth, add a Quarter of a pound of grated cheese with a seas- oning of salt, pepper and mustard. Mix all together, and spread between slices of bread and butter. For boiled beetroot wash the beet thoroughly but carefully so as not to let it bleed. Put in a pan with plenty of salted boiling water, and bod for one hour. Take out \and skim at once. Slice into a vegeta- ble dish. Have ready in a sauce- pan a little melted butter and vine- gar. Boil up, pour over the beet. and serve. Medicine will never remedy bad habits. Indulgence of the appetite, indiscriminate dosing and drugging have ruined the health and destroy- ed the lives of more persons than famine or pestilence. If you will take advice you will become regular in your habits, eat and drink only wholesome things, retire and rise ivory regularly. Make a free use of water to purify the skin. Baked fish has far more flavor than boiled, though it does not look so nice. The fish should be placed on a greased tin, covered with buttered ipaper, and cooked in a moderate oven. The cook should be very care- ful in baking fish not to dry it up. Serve with a good white sauce pour- ed over, and garnished with chopped lparsloy, capers, lemon, or hardâ€" ,boiled egg. Films of plaice tied in lknots and cooked like this are excel- llcnt. 1' The fruit used for pl‘c-Scl‘Ving should 'ulwziys be gathered in dry weather, :ilntl when choosing it, one need not linsist on the largo Sl'lf‘ of berries, for .()lien the smalls-st strawberries pos- sess the best flavor. In particular, there is a small scarlet. strawberry \‘lllt'll makes excellent jam. Pick the fruit, and discard any unsound ber- tft-s; weigh them, and to every pound (if fruit allow llll‘t‘fPllllxlTlC‘l'S of a pound of preserving sugar. Put a layer of fruit in thi- preserving pan, llit‘ll a layer of sugar. and repeat. this until the \issol is about three lliil‘tx full. Stand the Pan at the Rid:- of the .stoH', and keep stirring, remove the scum carefully as it rises, imd let the fruit boil gently for iliiwâ€"ipiartcrs of an hour or more Then take out a little in a saucer, and it wts, it is done enough; pour it into jars; tie down with parchment covers when cold, and store in a dry Cupboard. ll