The Cimarron News. (Boise City, Okla.), Vol. 26, No. 50, Ed. 1 Thursday, July 10, 1924 Page: 3 of 8
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THE CIMARRON NEWS, BOISE CITY. OKLAHOMA
3 ZEN OF THE Y. D
^/l floifct of the Foothillj
By ROBERT STEAD
Author of "The Cotu launcher"—**The Homesteader</"— *tflet4hborj"gtc,
kCoprritht br ROBOT STEAD
TRANSLEY'S RING
SYNOPSIS. — Trnnaloy'a h* y-
^uttlntf outfit, nfinr Marking
DOO (una, la on Ita way to th«
ik VP. runrh haadquartara
I nitially la a miiatiT uf mm and
iri'iimatnncea Under, foreman,
In Hubainntlal, bill not eelf-anaer-
jlvp, Ovoi'K" Druxk, one of the
(urn, la an |rrea|ion*lbl«- ehup who
ipiiaea lo avnry woman he
[nr«ta Tranaley und Under dine
!th Y.D. and hla wife and
JniiKhter Zen. Y.D Inatrurta
uley to cut the South Y.D.,
f'aplle o' h—I an' hitch water" and
fellow named !<uiidaon. Drask
i ropnaea to Zen and la neatly re-
buffed. Tranaluy pltche* cnmp on
[he South Y.D. and flnda Untl-
on'a outfit cutting hay. Dennl-
Qmnt, Ijandaon'a manager,
notlflea Tranaley that he la work-
ing under a leaae from the legal
Dwnera and warna Tranaley off
U1 of which mtana war Y.D
mid Zen ride to the Sooth Y D.
a a natural vamp, not yet
halter-broke and ripe for mating.
D. baa taken a liking to Trana-
iy. Zen holda Tranaley off and
fneouragea Dlnder. Zfn enjoya
[be proapoet of a rare between
rruneley and Under for her fa-
i'or, but aecretly laughs at both.
She haa another and more eerloua
encounter with Drazk. Y.D. mow-
Ing machines are ruined by Iron
Vtakes set In the graaa Zen pro-
genia open war with L.andaon.
Tranaley half-wny proposea und
(jirnod off. Drnzk aeta a fire
khaj^attacks the I^andaon stacks.
rhev.Y.D. outfit haatena to aid the
bneeiy. Zen rldea off alone to
lelp. The wind changes and the
HT people now have to flght
h>e,.prairie fire. Zen rldea Into
he/rlver to eacape flames. Drazk
rle« to abduct her. She drowna
lnl u_or thinks she haa. Grant
veytakea her. In trying: to ride
hrough flre Zen Is thrown and
nocked aenselesa. Zen cornea to
fter aeveral houra of uncon-
ciousness to find herself In the
ark with Grant. She has a
Ipralnwd ankle and both horses
ave run awny. So she and Grant
it on a, rock and toll their past
Ive*/- Grant, It appears, Is a rich
nan's son who scorna wealth In
rder to live his own life. Y.D.
nd his men arrive after day-
Ight. Naturally. In the clrcum-
ances, haying Is abandoned,
rant rides off. Transley goes to
he nearest town. He returns and
nduces Y D. to go Into partner-
hljl with him In the contracting
nd .building buslnesa. Transley
weeps Zen off her feet by the
oro« of his love-making.
iformf
>eak 8
then
e pat!
iber vrl
row."
: "F
;d.—Ad
;kheai
ntmi
h Cut)
:e clei
hem ft
.1 to ii
semeni
Afrlcai
used
lltli'
By froJ
CHAPTER Vlll—Continued.
—10—
fhen she came down her father and
her and Transley were sitting
ut the table In the living-room; the
n hung with trophies of the chase
of competition; the room which
been the nucleus of the Y.D. es-
There was a colored cover on
table, and the shaded oil lamp In
center sent a comfortable glow of
t downward and about. The main-
h shadows of the three people fell
!he log walls, darting silently from
tion to position with their every
'ement.
er mother arose as Zen entered
rootu and took her hands In a
m, tender grip.
& Cros
the ri You're really leaving us," she said.
not saying I object. I think Mr,
nsley .will make you a good hus-
i. He is it man of energy, like
father. He will do well. You
not know the hardships that we
v in our eai'ly married life." Their
met, and there was a moment's
se.
ou will no; understand for many
what this means to me,
th," her msther said, and turned
kly to her place at the table,
e could n<t remember what they
talked about after that. She had
conscious of Transley's eyes
on her, and of a certain spiritual
tatlon witiiin her. She could not
ember what she had said, but she
vfr she hal talked with unusual
city and <harm. It was as though
pin stor«houses of brilliance In
being, of which she had been un-
re, had been suddenly opened to
It was as though she had been
xlcated by a very subtle wine
\ did not deaden, but rather
kened, all her faculties.
pl.pl fterwards, she had spent long
vllv'ljB.3 among the foothills, thinking
thinking. There were times when
flame of that strange exaltation
led low, indeed; times when It
hed almost to expire. There were
aents—houre—of misgivings. She
d not understand the strange do-
y which had come over her; the
recedented 'willingness to have her
shaped by another. That
nge willingness came as near to
fitening Zen as anything had ever
She felt that she was being
'led along In a stream; that she
i making r.' resistance; that she
no desire to resist. She had a
nge fear that som« day she would
qualities of self-direction, and
qualities would refuse to arise
r command.
i did not fear Transley. She be-
in him. She believed in his nbll-
i'g^Flllsfco grapple with anything that stood
ys an2BMs way; to thrust It aside.-and
.res- She respected the judetnent
[LLSftier fathe- and her mother, and
of them believed In Transley. He
,DNEY$4ld aucceed; he would seize the op-
«K H-T.^qnttln thia^oong country afford
me old
2 vrith
? Eve-
Don't
erely >
;are of
trained
sier for
s with
•etic to
d thon-
k V°ur
ed und rlae to power and influence
upon them, lie would be kind, he
would be generous. He would make
her proud of liltn. Whut more could
she want?
That was Just It, There were dark
moments when she felt tluit surely
there tuudt lie something more tliiin all
this. She did not know what It was—
who could not analyze her thought* or
give them definite form—hut In these
dark moments she feared that she was
being tricked, that ttie whole thing
was a sham which she would discover
when It was too late. She did not
suspect her mother, or her father, or
Transley, one or all, of being parties
to this trick; she believed that they
did not know It existed. She herself
did not know it existed. Hut the fear
was there.
After a week she admitted, mutfi
against her will, that possibly Dentil-
son Grant had something to do with
It. She had not seen him since she
had pressed his lingers and he had rid-
den away through the smoke-haze of
the South Y.D. She had dutifully tried
to force him from her mind. But he
would not stay out of It. It was ubout
that fact that her misgivings seemed
most to center. When she would be
thinking of Transley, and wondering
about the future, suddenly she would
discover that she was not thinking of
Transley, but of Dennlson Grant.
These discoveries shocked and humill-
uted her. It was an Impossible posi-
tion. She would throw Grant forcibly
out of her mind and turn to Transley.
And then, In an unguarded moment,
Transley would fade from her con-
sciousness, and she would know again
that she was thinking of Grunt.
At length she allowed herself the
luxury of thinking frankly about Den-
nlson Grant. It was a luxury. It
brought her a secret happiness which
she was wholly at a loss to under-
stand, but which was very delightful,
nevertheless. She amused herself with
comparing Grant with Transley. They
had two points In common; their phy-
sical perfection and their feariess,
self-confident manner. With these ex-
ceptions they seemed to be complete
contradictions. The ambitious Trans-
ley worshiped success; the phlloso
phlcal Grant despised It. That differ-
ence In attitude toward the world nnd
Its affairs was a ridge which separated
the whole current of their lives. It
even, In a way, shut one from the view
of the other; at least It shut Grant
from the view of Transley. Transley
would never understand Grant, but
Grant might, and probably did, un-
derstand Transley. That was why
Grant was the greater of the two,
She reproached herself for such a
thought; It was disloyal to admit that
this stranger on the Landson ranch
was a greater man than her husband
to-be. And yet honesty—or, perhaps,
something deeper than honesty—com
pelled her to make that admission
. . . She ran back over the remem-
bered Incidents of the night they had
spent together, marooned like ship-
wrecked sailors on a rock In the foot-
hills. His attentiveness, his courtesy,
his freedom from any conventional re-
straint, his manly respect which was
so much greater than conventional re-
straint—all these came back to her
with a poignant tenderness. She pic-
tured Transley In his place. Transley
would probably have proposed even
before he bandaged her ankle. Grant
had not said a word of love, or ev
of affection. He had talked freely of
himself—at her request—but there
had been nothing that might not have
been said before the world. She had
been safe with Grant. . . .
After she had thought on this theme
for a while Zen would acknowledge to
herself that the situation was absurd
and impossible. Grant had given no
evidence of thinking more of her than
of any other girl whom he might have
met. He had been chivalrous only.
She had sat up with a start at the
thought that there might be another
girl. ... Or there might be no girl
Grant was an unusual character.
At any rate, the thing for her to do
was to forget about him. She should
have no place In her mind for any
man but Transley. It was true he
had stampeded her, but she had ac-
cepted the situation In which she
found herself. Transley was worthy
of her—she had nothing to take back
—she would go through with It.
On the principle that the way to
drive an unwelcome thought out of
the mind Is to think vigorously about
something else, Zen occupied herself
with plans and day-dreams centering
about the new home that was to be
built in town. Neither her father nor
Transley had as yet returned from the
trip on which they had gone with a
view to forming a partnership, so
there had been no opportunity to dis-
cuss the plans for the future, but Zen
took It for granted that Transley
would build In town. He was so en
thusiastic over the possibilities of that
young and bustling center of popula
tion that there was no doubt he would
want to throw In his lot with It. This
prospect was quite pleasing to the
girl; It would leave her within easy-
distance of her old home; it would In-
troduce ber to a type of society with
which she was well acqualatetf, and
where alie could do heraelf Justice,
and It would not break up the uamicln-
tlona of her young life She would
mill be able, now and again, to take
long rldea through the tawny foot-
hills; to mingle with her old friends;
possibly to maintain a somewhat (la
terly acquaint anee with Dennlson
Grant. . . .
After ten days Y.D. returned alone,
lie hud acurcely been uble to believe
the development* which he hud seen.
It was as though the sleepy, lazy cow-
town had become electrified. Y.D. 'tad
looked 011 for three days, wondering If
he were not In some kind of a dream
from which he would awaken present-
ly among his herds In the foothills.
After three days he bought a prop-
erty. Hefore he left he sold It at a
profit greuler than the earnings of his
first five years on the ranch. It would
be Indeed a stubborn confidence which
could not be won by such an experi-
ence, and before leaving for the ranch
Y.D. hud arranged for Transley prac-
tically on open credit with his bank-
ers, and had undertaken to send down
all the horses and equipment that
could be spared.
Transley had planned to return to
the foothills with Y.D., but at the last
moment business matters developed
which- required his attention, lie
placed a tiny package in Y.D.'s ca-
pacious palm.
"For the girl," he said. "I should
deliver It myself, but you'll explain?"
Y.D. fumbled the tiny package Into
vest pocket. "Sure, I'll attend to
that," he promised. "Wasn't much of
these fancy trinmiln's when I settled
Into double harness, but lots of things
has changed since then. You'll be out
soon ?"
Just as soon as business will stand
for It. Not a minute longer."
On his return home Y.D., after
maintaining an exasperating silence
until supper was finished, casually
handed the pnekage to his daughter.
Some trinket Transley sent out,"
he explained. "He'll be here himself
as soon as business permits."
She took the package with a glow
of expectancy, started to open It, then
folded the paper again and ran up to
She Took the Package With a Glow
of Expectancy.
her room. Here she tempted Tierself
for minutes before she would finally
open It, whetting the appetite of an-
ticipation to the full. . . . The gem
Justified her little play. It was mag-
nificent ; more beautiful and more ex
pensive than anything her father ever
had bought her.
She hesitated strangely about put
ting it on. To Zen it seemed that the
putting on of Transley's ring would
be a voluntary act symbolizing her ac-
ceptance of him. If she had been
carried off her feet—swept Into the
position In which she found herself—
that explanation would not apply to
the deliberate placing of his ring upon
her finger. There would be no excuse
she could never again plead that she
had been the victim of Transley's pre-
cipltateness. This would be dellber*
ate, and she must do It herself.
She rather blamed Transley for not
having left his old business and come
to perform this rite himself, as he
should have done. What was one day
of business, more or less? Yet Zen
gathered no hint from that incident
that always, with Transley, business
would come first. It was symboli
prophetic—but she did not see the sign
nor understand the prophecy.
She held the ring between her
fingers; slipped It off and on her lit
tie fingers; held ft so the rays of the
sun fell through the window upon It
and danced before ber eyes in all their
primal colors.
"I have to put this on," she said, !
pursing her lips firmly, "and—and for-
get about Dennlson Grant!"
For a long time she thought of that
and all It meant. Then she raised the
Jewel to her lips.
"Help me—help me—" she mur-
mured. With a quick little Impetuous
motion ahe drew It oa to the finger
where It belonged. There she gated
upon It for u moment, as though fas-
cinated by It. Then she fell upon her
bed und lay motionless until long after
the* valley was wrapped In shadow.
The events of these days had al-
most driven from Zen's mind the trag-
edy of (ieorge Drask. When she
thought of It nt nil It presented such
a grotesque unreality- It was such an
unreasonable thing- that it assumed
the vague qualities of a dream. It
was something unreal und very much
better forgotten, and It wes only by
an unwilling effort at such times that
she could bring herself to know that
It was not unreal. It was a matter
that concerned her tremendously.
Sooner or later Drask's dlsuppoarancs
must be noted—perhaps his body
would be found and while she had
little fear that anyone would associate
her with the tragedy It was s most
unpleasant thing to think about. Rome-
times she wondered If she should not
tell her father or Transley Just what
had happened, but she shrank from
doing so as from the confession of a
crime. Mostly she woe able to think
of other matters.
Her father brought It up In a star-
tling way at breakfast. Absolutely
out of n blue sky he said. "Did you
know, Een, that Drazk has disap-
peared? Transley tells me you were
tnt'rested a bit In him, or perhaps 1
should say he was Int'rested In you
Zen was so overcome by this star-
tling change In the conversation that
she was unable to answer. The color
went .from her face and she leaned
low over her plate to conceal her
agitation.
"Yep," continued Y.D., with no more
concern than If a steer had been lost
from the herd. "Transley said to tell
you Druzk had disappeared an' he
reckoned you wouldn't be bothered
any more with him."
Druzk was nothing to me," she
manuged to say. "How can you think
he was?"
"Now who said he was?" her father
retorted. "For a young woman with
the price of a herd of steers on her
third finger you're sort o' short this
mornln'. Now I'm Jus' wonderln' how
far you can see through a board
fence, Zen. Are you surprised that
Drazk has disappeared?"
She was entirely at a loss to under-
stand the drift of her father's talk
He could not connect her with Drazk
disappearance, or he would not ap-
proach the matter with such uneon
cern. That was unthinkable. Neither
could Transley, or he would not have
sent so brutal a message. And yet It
was clear that they thought she should
be Interested.
Her father's question demanded an
answer.
"What should I care?" she ventured
at length.
"I didn't ask you whether you cared.
I asked you whether you was sur-
prised."
"Drazk's movements were — are
nothing to me. I don't know that
have any occasion to be surprised
about anything he may do."
"Well, I'm rather glad you're not,
because If you don't Jump to conclu>
slons, perhaps other people won't. Not
that It makes any partlc'lar dlff'rence,
"Dad," she cried In desperation,
"whatever do you mean?"
"It was all plain enough to me, an'
plain enough to Transley," her father
continued with remarkable calmness
"We seen it right from the first."
"You're talking In riddles, Y.D.,'
his wife remonstrated. "You're get
ting Zen all worked up."
"Jewelry seems to be mighty up-
settln'," Y.D. commented. "There was
nothln' like that in our engagement,
eh, Jessie? Well, to come to the
point. There was a flre which burned
up the valley of the South Y.D. Fires
don't start themselves—usually. Thl
one started among the Landson stacks,
so it was natural enough to Buspec'
Y.D. or some of his sympathizers
Well it wasn't Y.D., an' I reckon it
wasn't Zen, an' it wasn't Tranaley nor
Linder an' every one of the gang
accounted for excep' Drazk. Drazk
thought he was doin' a great piece of
business when he fired the Landson
hay, but when the wind. turned an
burned up the whole valley Drazk seeB
where he can't play no hero part
around here so he loses, himself for
good. I gathered from Transley that
Drazk had been botherin' you a little,
Zen, which Is why I tpld you."
The girl's heart was pounding vio-
lently at this explanation. It was
logical, and would be accepted readily
by those who knew Drazk. She would
not trust herseif In further conversa-
tion, so she slipped away as soon as
she could and spent the day riding
down the river.
MARY
SUCCEEDS
ON
It The KITCHEN 1
i CABINET i
•MAIN STREET;|
' «-.««■■ ■ # v
' ♦ V
t , , , t , ■«•■« ,« « « , « « I £
' By LAURA MILLER J.}
iv, itt.4, uy t.a his Millar
WHERE MAIN STREET IS
ONLY A CREEKBED
For folks who conaldur life 011 Main
Street "dreadful" there may be a
'.onlc In the picture of life where there
Isn't even u Main Street. "The only
rouda In our county are creekbed
roads," writes Olive Marsh. "We do
not live In a town at nil, and there Is
not a street of any kind within miles
of us—'Main' or otherwise."
Yet "Singing Curr Creek" of Knott
county, Kentucky, boasts of a com-
munity club, a camp lire, a "lllue Bird
lub" for little girls, a boy scout
troop, ami an agricultural club which
energetic enough to hold a com-
munity fair and to compete In the an-
nual county fulr. The secret lies part-
ly In this same Olive Marsh, lladcllffe
ollege master of arts, partly In her
I'o-wnrker, ltuth Weston, uud partly
In the desire of the mountain folk to
grow back Into the world Again.
The community center, which moth-
ers all other projects, Is managed by
the two women together, with five
men of the community elected by the
people. Since Miss Marsh and MIhs
Weston came to Carr Creek they have
raised funds to build a seven-room
School house, which la In use not only
for school purposes, but for clubg
and other community gatherings, for
the monthly clothing sale held by the
center, and for the free lending li-
brary which occupies one of the rooms
and comprises now about 2,WW vol-
umes. A three-room cottage has also
been built, In which Miss Marsh and
Miss Westou live, and In which for
the past year two orphan boys have
also lived, working for their board
and attending school. A one-room of-
fice building is nearly finished, nnd a
new building, "Singing Carr Creek
Home," to serve as a dormitory for
orphan children, Is about to be begun,
the funil for Its construction being
neurly completed. The center owns
about twenty acres of land. The Com-
munity club has made a trail across n
mountain, bo that the children In an
Isolated section of the school district
can get to school without having to
walk four miles around by the road,
It hasv also built two foot-bridges
across the cre^k at needed points, to
replace the shaky footlogs which got
washed out with every heavy rain.
So goes the story of marvelous ac-
complishment, with the thread of per
sonal happiness all having to be read
between the lines.
(It), 1*2*. Waat«rn Newipapor Union.)
Hrurrh thy «wn hwnrt; whnt
pulmth then In uthors In thy lf
nmy bo.—-J, O. Whlttler
GOOD HOT WEATHER DRINKS
A variety of cooling drink* ire ti-
Wuya a welcome addition to any meal
or menu. The
following Is ti
great favorite on
the farm:
Oatmeal Drink.
—Take one-quur-
ter <>f n pound of
oatmeal, one cup-
ful of migur ami
the it ruined Juice of two lemons. Adtl
one-half cupful of boiling water to the
latmeal, mix with the other Ingredl-
tits und pour Into a gallon of boiling
water, atlr well, put through a aleve
and chill before serving.
Tea Punch, prepaiw fofer eopfol*
of Strong tea, let It cool, then add one
pineapple cut In bits, one pound of
Miked cherries, the Juice of six lem-
ons, one cupful of sugar. Stir until
the sugar Is dissolved, add one quart
of carbonated water, a pint at a time.
Serve with a sprig of mint and
hopped Ice.
Chocolate Sirup.—'This will keep un-
til used If kept In the Ice chest. Take
three squares of chocolate, one ounce
of cocoa, one and one-hulf pounds of
sugar, a pint of water and one nnd
pne-hnlf teaspoonfuls of vnnlUa. Boll
(ha cocoa in one-half cupful of water
in n double boiler, grate the chocolate
and mix with one-third measure of
sugar; mid this to the cocoa after
cooking ten minutes, stir constantly,
nddlng the remainder of the sugar and
cook ten minutes. Remove from the
flre, strain and cool and add the va-
nilla. Add a tahlespoonful of the
sirup to cold milk or Ice water; top
with a spoonful of whipped cream or
n mnrshmnllow.
Fruit Punch.—Boll together for ten
minutes three cupfuls of sugar, two
cupfuls of water, with the rind of one
lemon and one orange. Strain and
while hot, odd one glass of currant
Jelly. Set on Ice and when rendy to
serve ndd the Juice of nine lemons,
five oranges, one cupful each of cher-
ries and shredded pineapple. Pour
Into a punch bowl, ndd Ice and water,
adding a pint of charged water at a
t'rwe t<p give It sparkle.
Boston Cream.—Take three quarts
of water and one and one-half pounds
of sugar, two tenspoonfuls of lemon
extract, two ounces of tartartlc acid,
and the whites of two eggs. Boll the
water and allow It to get cold, then
stir In the other Ingredients, beating
the whites stiff. Mix well nnd pour
Into bottles and keep In the Ice chest.
When serving put In a pinch of soda
in a glass, half-flll the glass with Ice
and fill with the cream. Drink at
once.
Of course, Grant shows up—
and proposes marriage. Does
Zen say "yes"—or does she show
him Transley's ring?
WHERE TRADITION AND
MODERNISM MEET
The oldest museum In America has
been Intrusted to the direction of a
woman. One hundred and fifty years
ago the fathers of the Carolines who
had settled Charleston established the
first scientific museum In America.
About that time the wife of the gov
ernor of Connecticut became insane,
Governor Wlnthrop of Massachusetts,
with all the dignity of his office and
his colonial scholarship, announced;
"Had she not gone out of her way
and calling to meddle In such things
as are proper for men, whose minds
are stronger, she had kept her wits."
Yet the poor governor's lady was far,
In her simple desire for reading, from
seeking such knowledge as would fit
her to be curator of a scientific lnstl
tutlon.
Miss Laura M. Bragg, however, Is
said to be quite able to keep her wits
for she Is credited not only with be-
ing a scientist but also a business
woman who has placed the museum
on a sound financial basis. In add!
tion, her staff is so completely Im
bued with her vision that the educa^
tlonal serylce rendered the commun
Ity, has astonished the museum board
of governors.
An exhibit added through her fore-
sight conslstB of ancient prescriptions
mortars and the early American glass
bottles which accumulated in the old
est drug store In Charleston. When It
was moved (o modern quarters, the
antique equipment was destined for
the dump heap until Miss Braggfasked
to make It one of the most Interest
lng exhibits of the museum.
Daughter of a Methodist minister
she seems always to have understood
people. A young B. S., fresh from
technical training in biology and 11
brary work, she started a museum at
Owl's Island, Me., consisting mainly
of fish and shells of the vicinity, which
greatly interested the native popula
tion. Visitors to the convention of
the American Association of Museums,
which met In Charleston in April to
celebrate the one hundred and fiftieth
birthday of the museum, found the
same commingling of scientific and
neighborhood spirit In Miss Bragg';
work. Alongside the rare antique fur-
niture of the old South which draw
connoisseurs from afar, are classes I
modeling for Charleston children, and
In simple research for their elders.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Servant Girlt in Norway
In Norway servant girls hire for
half a year at a time, by contract
made at a public registry offafc
Process for Getting Helium
Natural gas subjected to a tremen-
dous pressure by a secret process
turns to liquid at 317 degrees below |
rero, and from it helium then
drawn off
Help one another, the dewdrop
cried,
Seeing another drop close by Its
side;
This wat-m south breeze would
drive me away
And I should be gone ere noon to-
day.
But I'll help you and you help me
And we'll make a brook and run to
the sea!
ABOUT UNCOOKED FOODS
The raw faddist didn't know why
raw food seemed to be so healthful;
but he knew he
could cure any-
thing that flesh
was heir to with
raw foods. To-
day we know
that many raw
foods, such as
greens of all
kinds, cabbage, carrots and turnips
contain llfe-glvlng substances called
vitamines, which are (if eaten un-
cooked, not lost In the water of cook-
ing or destroyed by heat) most valu-
able In keeping the body In good
health.
One doesn't object to raw cabbage,
carrots, lettuce, water cress and an
occasional turnip, but one hesitates to
eat uncooked beets or potatoes; In
fact, they will need to be well-masked
In good rich salad dressing to be very
popular with the masses.
Another point which the raw food
supporters will tell us Is we all eat too
much, which we know, and that,
when' eating raw foods, one feels sat-
isfied with a much smaller amount of
food. Thus we may save food and
money by being a raw food eater.
We are told also that every bit of
such food is assimilated : you flnd your-
self feeling good after the meal, brain
clear, wits nimble, and when retiring
time comes, sleep like the proverbial
log. There Is really something worth
while In this; It Is at least worth a
trial.
Cabbage s'alad.—Take a hard, crisp
head of cabbage, chop fine—or better,
shred very fThe; add salt and a f^w
spoonfuls of sugar, a generous amount
of thick, sweet cream to moisten, a
dash of vinegar; mix well, and enjoy
a most appetizing salad.
A dessert of a handful of dates and
nuts will be easy to prepare and
serve, and to the busy housewife who
has everything to do—a great com-
fort. These foods are no more expen-
sive. when time and material are
counted, than many of the so-called
6lmple desserts.
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The Cimarron News. (Boise City, Okla.), Vol. 26, No. 50, Ed. 1 Thursday, July 10, 1924, newspaper, July 10, 1924; Boise City, Oklahoma. (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc233932/m1/3/: accessed April 19, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.