of the North Manchester Historical Society, Inc.

A Hoosier Lawyer Becomes Vice President
by Ferne Baldwin

[Photo: Wabash College students recently donated their labor to help ready the Thomas Marshall House for its upcoming move. See story below.]

Riley Marshall came to Randolph County, Indiana, in 1817 and soon moved to Grant County. Later he moved to Kansas. One of his nine children was Daniel M. Marshall who was educated to be a doctor. He married Martha Patterson and the couple moved to North Manchester in 1848 [Subsequent Research Note: They arrived in North Manchester after 1850 because the U.S. Federal Census for 1850 placed the household of Daniel Marshall and his wife in Attica, Indiana where Daniel was listed as physician.]  Dr. Marshall practiced medicine in their house located on the north side of Main Street. There Thomas Riley Marshall was born March 14, 1854. His only sister died in infancy and he grew up an only child.

Tom’s father made heavy use of the traveling library of that time and when his wife was threatened with tuberculosis when Tom was two years old, Dr. Marshall concluded that the best treatment was an open air life-style, raw eggs and milk. Greeks long before the Christian era had taken lung patients to the mountains to sleep outdoors and fed them a diet of goat’s milk, raw eggs and wine. So the family went to Illinois and for about two years lived practically in the open prairies around Urbana. They moved westward into Kansas, and back into Missouri. By this time the mother was in good health and the doctor followed his profession for a year and a half.

There was a great deal of political controversy at this time and Dr. Marshall challenged one of the political hot heads of the area. His uncle and cousins advised him to get out of town for his own safety. A few hours later they were on a boat going to Quincy, Illinois, and they soon returned to Indiana. Both Daniel Marshall and Riley Marshall were told by the Methodist preacher that their names would be taken from the church roll if they continued to vote Democratic. Riley announced he was willing to take his chance on Hell, but never on the Republican party. Daniel simply joined his wife’s church (Presbyterian).

Tom’s education began in Pierceton; later he went to Warsaw and in 1868-69 he attended Ft. Wayne High School. He passed the exams for entrance to Wabash College at age 15 and entered that school in 1869. It was a classical course with no electives. All students were required to attend worship on Sunday, as well as a lecture by the College President on Sunday afternoon. Total college enrollment was 85. Marshall became a member of Phi Gamma Delta fraternity and began what was an important relationship during his entire life. He was elected to Phi Beta Kappa and received the highest possible grade in fourteen out of thirty-seven courses.

In his book, Recollections, Marshall tells of one event during his military training at Wabash College. “I remember we had two twelve-pounders, with their caissons and whatever else goes with them, but we had no mules to drag them around over the campus. Colonel Henry B. Carrinton devised a scheme, therefore, of a public drawing, whereby one man became an artillery man and another man became a mule. I was fortunate enough to draw a mule’s part. It was all well and good during
April and the early part of May, when physical exercise was desired, but when the hot weather came on it was too strenuous even for a patriotic and military soul, such as I was. And so, one day, we pranced off with the cannon, caissons and everything else, piled the whole mess on what is now the Big Four Railroad running through the corner of the Campus and mutinied.

“A train came in and was compelled to stop. The train crew and most of the passengers got off, and everything was said, from importunity to profanity, to induce us to remove the barrier, but we were adamant. Finally the crew and the passengers cleared the track and the train went on its way.

“The next morning we were drawn up before the faculty, and I was selected to make the defense. It was brief but to the point. It consisted of the statement that my father had sent me to Wabash College to take, if possible, the asinine traits out of my character, not to make me more mulish than I was by nature; that I did not think I would get much more in the additional two weeks; that a bit of sheepskin was not essential to my happiness; that, if desired, I would pack my truck and go home; and that I spoke for the rest of the boys.”

“This was a successful strike and we heard no more about it.”

At graduation two of his professors offered positions but he was already working toward a career in law. In the same year he joined the firm of Hooper and Olds in Columbia City. At the age of twenty-one he was appointed an attorney of the Whitley County Circuit Court and during his first year was involved in some forty cases in that court.

For a brief time he had his own private practice but he soon formed a partnership with William F. McNagny who had grown up on a Whitley County farm. They were an ideal pair and within a short time this firm was acting as a lawyer in nearly one half the cases before the circuit court.

Tom was a bachelor and made his home with his mother. She died when he was forty. The next summer he was acting as special judge in a case in the circuit court at Angola. A Miss Lois I. Kimsey was a deputy in the county clerk’s office and they were engaged before the case ended. Tom Marshall worshipped his wife and Mrs. Marshall’s life centered around her husband. They were separated only two nights during their whole married life.

By 1897 Tom Marshall was coming to court some days under the influence of alcohol. His problem began to cause difficulties in his marriage. Even his wife could not keep him sober. His wife and friends pleaded with him and in 1898 he took a course of treatments as a cure. No one ever saw him drink after that. When offered a drink he would simply say, “I do not drink,” and the Marhalls did not serve any liquor or wine when he was governor or vice-president.

Marshall was very active in the Presbyterian Church. He taught the men’s  Bible Class, customarily attended twice on Sunday. He was a noted speaker but his stories could be told anywhere. He often helped organize the annual county fair, served on the local school board, and was a member of the Masons. He became the Most Illustrious Grand Master of the Grand Council of Indiana, became Thirty-third Degree in 1898 and later represented the State of Indiana on the Supreme council. Altogether, he was a popular man in Columbia City.

Coming from a long line of active Democrats, he began political activity while still at Wabash College. He organized the Democratic Club at Wabash during the 1872 campaign and was proud to act as the escort for the candidate for governor. Local politics fascinated him. He became a member of the State Central Committee in 1896. It was his habit to attend the conventions.

He was on a vacation in Michigan when he was chosen as a candidate for governor in 1909. His campaign was well organized but Marshall himself did little. He borrowed money and paid all his expenses for the campaign. He won by 14,809 votes. The Marshalls rented a modest house. There was no official residence and Marshall opposed buying one. The inaugural ball cost $455 and was paid for by the Governor elect. They worked hard to stay within his eight thousand dollar salary. He was also careful of the state’s finances.

He was much more interested in the candidacy for president as his term as Governor came to an end. He made speeches in other states and made careful plans in case the Convention became deadlocked, that he might be available as an unaligned and viable candidate.

One percent of the total population of Columbia city went to the convention in Baltimore to support their favorite son. It was a long convention. It soon became clear that Woodrow Wilson would be the candidate for President. Wilson did not indicate any clear preference for Vice-President. Marshall received 389 votes on the first ballot. A unanimous vote was declared a little after 2 a.m. Marshall was at home, sound asleep. At first he refused the vice-presidency, arguing that the salary was too small. But Mrs. Marshall was eager to go to Washington and others helped to persuade him. He never regretted his decision and found that by adding some speaking fees they could live well and even save a little.

Again, Marshall paid all his campaign expenses. Mrs. Marshall went along on the three tours: one to Maine, another to the Mid West and one to the Far West. When the Marshalls arrived in Washington in February, they received more attention than most vice-presidents. Marshall had a special guard of honor at both inaugurations by the Black Horse Troop of cadets from Culver Military School. The Hoosier Lawyer from Columbia City was now the Vice-President of the United States. (to be continued)

Wabash College Students Revitalize
Thomas Marshall Birthplace
Adapted from a News-Journal article

The North Manchester Historical society received help from an unexpected source recently. Four students from Wabash College spent the day here scraping paint and preparing the Thomas Marshall birthplace on Ninth St. for its move next spring to Holderman Park.

Why would college students from southern Indiana make the trek here to help refurbish an old house?

It turns out that Thomas Marshall attended Wabash College and was a member of the Phi Gamma Delta fraternity there in 1873. Fraternity members received a newspaper clipping about the North Manchester Historical Society’s effort to restore Marshall’s birthplace, and they felt it would be an appropriate fraternity project to lend a hand.

The four students worked here under the direction of Society member Max Kester, a retired carpenter. Society member Eldon Metzger lent a hand by cooking chili over an outdoor fire for the crew.

The move of the vice-president’s birthplace is scheduled for the spring. Before the move, the Society expects to restore the house to its original lines, by taking off the dormer and replacing the asphalt roof with a wood shingle roof. The porches will also come off.

The Society is looking at a major fund-raiser to help with the costs of restoring and moving the home. Once moved, it will be operated as a museum.

Memo From the Teacher’s Desk
By Orpha J. Weimer

In my family were many teachers. I taught, then stepped out for 25 years to be with my children, before going back to Chester for 17 more years. Like many mothers, when my two sons came home from Army service and needed a bit more training, Mother pitched in to help out. I liked Chester School quite well but did have a rousing welcome.

The Junior High was still there at the time I began. These youngsters marched out just ahead of us and down the stair to meet the waiting buses. One evening our progress was slowed down by a pitch-in fight just ahead of us on the stairs by two young bantam roosters. The junior high monitors were too far ahead of us to call. I knew time was short. We were supposed to hurry. Consequently I stepped forward, grabbed an arm of each boy and not too gently propelled them on. Luckily they moved, for they were both big enough to have made mincemeat out of me!

That evening rather late I received a telephone call. I am sure the telephone wires sizzled—it was the worst cussing I’ve ever heard in my life. In fact, I didn’t know all the words existed. A threat at the end quickly tied it to the school affair, although I did not recognize the voice.

Mr. Parks, who was then principal, advised that we keep silent until one of them give himself away. It was nearly two months later when a young scamp from out near Servia stopped to talk one day.

“You know the day you got sweared at, Mrs. Weimer? You thought it was me, didn’t you? But I didn’t. It was that smart aleck who lives across the street from you. He’s in the restroom braggin’ about it.”

Again Mr. Parks suggested we wait a little longer and let the culprit stew. I really don’t know what action Parks took, but the young rooster, who is now a grown man, has never spoken to me since. However, from all things one hears, his vocabulary hasn’t suffered at all!

It is a bit silly now. The worst thing for me was keeping silent when his mother, who was a member of the same church as I, bragged so about what a wonderfully smart and good boy her son was.

Sometimes it doesn’t pay to pile up memories. Teachers do get plenty of them—good, bad, indifferent, yet always touching. You have to like kids, too, for they can and do say some of the darnedest things. Like how Mama got her black eye or the color of her hair dye, or even about the bottle of motor oil Dad’s got out in the garage which he always has to taste to see if it is good or not. Yes, parents would sometimes be quite surprised what children tell.

I always carried a small sewing kit with me for unexpected emergencies. One noon a grinning sixth grader came to my door and said, “Johnny’s in the restroom and wants you to come to the door so he can talk to you.” I expected a trick, but I went. Poor John had ripped the seat of his trousers, and a classmate had taken them to the office for help. Mrs. Poston, the secretary, tried but all she had available was a stapler. Obligingly the pants were spliced and sent back to Johnny. “I thought I was sittin’ on firecrackers,” said John’s rather tearful voice.

Now it was teacher’s turn. The afternoon bell rang, so we started off with an unscheduled arithmetic study period on next day’s lesson which I monitored while sitting in the back of the room with my trusty needle. All’s well that ends well. Johnny took it easy on the afternoon playground, had homework to do on the next day’s arithmetic which he had missed, and Mrs. Poston got kidded everlastingly for her staple stitchery!

Sometimes mothers’ little “darlings” are knowing little brats, too. One incident caused quite a stir in a group of observing student teachers. A birthday had been celebrated with ice cream bars, and the honored child reported on some of his gifts. Then, to get settled down and bring all of the children into the talk, the teacher smiled and asked, “What would you do if someone gave you a thousand dollars?” Several children responded in various fun ways when one boy held up his hand. “I’d give half of it to an old whore and have a jolly good time on the rest.”

The teacher replied, “Well, that’s one way,” then turning to a shy little girl, he asked, “Susan, what would you do?” After her answer the wastebasket was passed for wrappers, damp towelettes, etc., and then classes resumed.

Later in the observation discussion group the teacher was criticized for not reprimanding the boy for his language. However, most of us thought, as had the teacher, that very few, if any, of the children realized the connotation of the word used, whereas, a setdown at the time would have fixed it in their minds. It was a case of “best let sleeping dogs lie.” Teachers walk a narrow path quickly.

Teachers don’t always get off easy. Sometimes the students have a real holiday. We had a tadpole in a glass jar, hoping we could watch his legs grow. We did, and it was interesting, but we all got our money’s worth when he learned to croak in the middle of an arithmetic lesson. You couldn’t shut him up, so it had to be back to the pond for him.

My nature study lessons frequently developed kinks. On spring evenings along Sycamore Street one could usually hear quite a few “hooty” owls calling back and forth. From my front porch one could watch and listen very comfortably. I knew one wise little fellow had a roost in the maple tree by the front step. Often in the morning one could easily see little fresh regurgitated pellets all over the grass.

One morning after the owls had been quite brisk, I took a few of the fresh pellets to school with me. We tore some apart and were amazed. The meat was gone, but the pellets were full of grey hair, bits of skin, small bones and tough parts, as well as a few tiny rocks. From this we deduced that Mr. Owl had been on a mouse-catching party during the night. He had enjoyed his mouse steak breakfast, but these were the parts he couldn’t chew. Since he didn’t have hands to use a knife or fork, he simply rolled them together and stuffed them into pouches of his cheeks and throat to spit out later. We considered him a pretty smart bird and didn’t feel sorry for the field mouse at all. This started us off collecting interesting facts about birds all fall.

Sometimes this discovery method wasn’t so successful and backfired. Like the time my big boys put a rubber snake inside the office secretary’s desk, and she fainted. Or the time they fed an unsuspecting girl some of a Christmas red pepper plant in a piece of candy which blistered her throat. Then the lesson was “think before you act.”

This could apply to teachers also. I had three or four very “nice” little boys who played together at the far end of the playground, usually chasing in and out of a clump of shrubbery in an endless game of tag, then came running when the bell rang. I did quiz and observe them, but it was several years later when one of the scamps ‘fessed up. They took turns serving as lookouts and smoking. They ate mints on the run to disguise their breath. How dumb can you get at times?

Another interesting tale on the teacher concerns a taffy pull. Mr. Merkle’s room was away on a field trip, and my big boys were a little envious. I suggested a surprise study period. We arranged with the cooks to use the cafeteria for an afternoon study time. My husband and I had planned to entertain a Sunday School group at a candy pull, so I had all the makings in a big box at home. Harry brought it to me at school. The youngsters, as a class, read and wrote their social studies questions while a small committee helped me boil the syrup. All went very well until we discovered that the small block of butter reserved out for the actual pulling had been used. One of the girls who worked in the lunch room said she could get some as the cooks always kept a reserve in the refrigerator.

We washed our hands, divided into pairs, and started pulling, laughing and chattering until one boy couldn’t stand it any longer. He pulled off a chuck to chew and then, sputtering furiously, ran to the wastebasket. “T’ain’t fit for the pigs,” he yelled! Most of us agreed—the butter which we had appropriated from the frig was garlic butter for the next day’s garlic bread!”

Teaching was never boring or dull. Always something was happening. I urged the children to share and invited their parents to participate when possible. When we studied Rome, the subjects of law and coinage came up. We looked at a penny and tried to find out what skills and knowledge we could have credit for if a child, let us say, in the year 3945 should find one and no Americans were around. It made good supper time conversation. We wrote a list of 22 facts about ourselves on the blackboard.

Another interesting subject concerned the planet earth’s being destroyed and our having to move to another planet in a spaceship. What ten things would you take? Or possibly what 12 people would be your best companions? Choices and values of worth take some clear thinking and are hard to teach.

Perhaps I stressed science. I am not a scientific-minded person actually. I just married a scientist, but I realize it is a valuable tool to have some knowledge about. We worked at it and the fact the children always came up with 10-15 awards in the science fairs, so popular at the time, is a pleasant memory. We started with an idea and then held a room discussion on how to make it work. Of course, we asked questions of everyone we could find but did the work ourselves. I recall that one boy had to redo a poster four times because of spelling, and I insisted on neatness. We tried to make them attractive as well. They also had a good rating in the county spelling contests. They would drill and help each other quite often.

The last episode I dare include, I needed permission to relate. Since I enjoyed social studies, I wished to help my students learn to relate to, evaluate, and deal with the people around us as well as themselves. Occasionally we played the old “Show and Tell” game. Funny things, interesting things, or just useful things to laugh, chatter, and smile about. Then we would have a group discussion about how or why they appealed to us. The children soon learned not to be supercritical.

One morning Ross Briner’s youngest son appeared with a very curious and large contraption that none of us could name. Even the other teachers, who always came to see our exhibits, were stumped. Finally one boy said that part of it sort of looks like a pipe. That did it. Our principal, Mr. Howenstine, named it: a Chinese opium or water pipe. (I am sure he must have spent a little time in the reference section of the library that morning.) The rest of us didn’t even know what to call it. Young Chris said, “Yes, it is an opium pipe that Dad  brought home as a souvenir when he was a young boy in the Army. I don’t believe Mom even knows he’s got it,” he grinned.

The strange ways of our Mideastern people made interesting social studies for quite a time. Learning tangents sparked off in several directions as well as noting the amusing things young soldier boys might see or do. Mr. Briner did give me permission to relate this, and Mrs. Briner laughingly remarked that she didn’t tell her sons everything she knew.

Cooperation can certainly make social studies a very interesting and lively subject. However, being critical of a country or even the neighbor next door is not always the best method of approach or pathway to understanding.

Your reward in teaching is the friendship of the students. Perhaps years later you are fortunate to learn if your work was on the right track or not.

Five Flags Over This Land
By Dr. L.Z. Bunker

The mound builders reach to the most remote antiquity as inhabitants of this area. They were represented by the Woodland and Hopewell groups who gardened, made pottery and baskets, and had a moderate organization of their affairs. They were supplanted supposedly after the year 1,000 A.D. by savage groups of red Indians, Mongolians who came from Asia via the Siberian Islands. A greater land mass than at present may have facilitated this.

The Indians took over and continued to use many artifacts of the mound builders, so some “Indian relics” extend into remote antiquity. The bow and arrow replaced the atlatl, etc. The Indians did not have flags as we know them but had lances and standards with waving feathers and animal tails attached.

The Spaniards. Columbus, when he landed at Santo Domingo, claimed everything westward for the Crown of Spain. Spanish explorers traveled in the Midwest in 1500 plus, but no colonization occurred.

The French.  [French flag had been three gold fleurs-de-lis on a blue field.] A 1632 French map shows mid-America in some detail. French trappers early traversed the area: Jesuit missionaries were here by 1670. Active in French expansion were Robert Cavalier, Sieur de la Salle, and Louis de Baude, Comte de Frontenac. La Salle was the explorer, Frontenac the governor of Canada who helped promote and finance the explorations. La Salle was in the Wabash Maumee area in 1679 and traded with the Indians in South Bend in 1681, meeting them under a great oak tree which is still standing in the Highland Cemetery. La Salle made endless journeys as far south as lower Texas and the Mississippi delta. He sought to unite the western Indians against the eastern Iroquois. He made several trips to France and constantly sought to expand French power in America. Frontenac, a man of great courage and vision, hoped to see France control the great axis of mid-America, the waterways from Quebec to New Orleans with all their contiguous territories. The fur trade was the basis of French power and in part was controlled by the Jesuits who were also missionaries to the Indians.

French military forces were in the Miami-Fort Wayne area in the 1680s. They built a trading post there in 1712 and a fort in 1722, the first one on what is now West Superior Street. The French ranged through the country as traders and trappers. Some French families came in very early. French names found in the Fort Wayne phone book include Rousseau, Pequignot, Voirol, Vachon and others. There are two graves near the U.S. Gypsum Company in Wabash said to be French graves and the oldest in Indiana. Who shall say who they were?

The country was wet, had great areas of water passageways that have since been drained so traverse was not difficult and portages short. As late as 1836, the Eel River at North Manchester was 131 feet wide.

The English. [Early colonial English flag was the cross of Saint George.] The English in mid-America made constant incursions on trade with the Indians, sending the famous George Croghan, among others, to stir them up. Croghan is known to have been in the South Whitley area on such missions. The Indians changed their allegiance from side to side, and one Indian confederation to another, to their detriment.

The French-Indian War, the War of the Austrian Succession carried into America, lasted from 1752 to 1760 and at its end concluded French power in mid-America. Braddock’s defeat in Pennsylvania and the defeat of Montcalm by General Wolfe on the Planes of Abraham at Quebec were salient points in this war. After Wolfe’s victory Britain gained control of this area.

The British bases of operation were western Pennsylvania and Detroit. Due to this fact Detroit remained a controlling influence over this area until the Civil War. After the Revolutionary War the Treaty of 1783 secured the Americans’ claim to the Northwest Territory which included Ohio, Indiana, Michigan, Wisconsin, Illinois and part of Minnesota. The Americans, greatly extended, had only a loose hold on this vast area and the Indians felt that it belonged to them. The great Treaty of Greenville (Ohio) on August 3, 1795, ended Indian claims to lands held by French or British claimants and opened up the eastern part of the Midwest for settlement.

The Treaty of  Brownstown (Michigan) in 1870 marked the secession of all the Indian lands in lower Michigan. The Indians were pushed farther back into northern Michigan, Wisconsin, and Illinois. 1803 and 1809 marked treaties in Fort Wayne, also, removing Indians from the Wabash Valley. Some remained, however, and were the cause of uprisings. Few settlers entered the area north of U.S. 40 across the state. Thirty million acres changed hands from 1808 and following. The Indians received the most trivial payments and promises of annual bounties. Many of the Indians’ payments were consumed on the spot in whiskey, and they became increasingly impoverished and degraded.

After 1808 twin Shawnee brothers, Tecumseh and The Prophet, Lalawakesha, sought to join the Indians of middle America in a confederation to expel the whites from the area. Tecumseh traveled and exhorted many tribes to seek the return of their lands. The Prophet kept things in an uproar in Indiana and on November 7, 1811, the Indians attacked an American Army fort at Tippecanoe. The commander, General William Henry Harrison, decimated their ranks and broke the power of the Indians in Indiana. Tecumseh fled to the Fort Wayne area for the winter, then went to Canada in the spring, seeking British aid in his war with the Americans.

American warhawks in the U.S. Congress, excited by all this, brought on the War of 1812, with the objective of driving the British out of Canada. This did not occur and after much attrition, the war was concluded at the Treaty of Ghent, August 14, 1814. An incident of these times was the siege of Fort Wayne by Indians as agents of the British. The siege was relieved September 11, 1812, by William Henry Harrison after three weeks duration.

After the death of Tecumseh at the Battle of Thames near the end of the War of 1812, his brother, The Prophet, remained in Canada and the power of the Indian confederations was ended. Within eight years, may 8, 1822, a Federal land Office was opened in Fort Wayne in the old fort, land selling for $1.25 per acre.

October 16, 1826, marked the Treaty at Paradise Springs near Wabash where the Miamis and Potawatomis ceded 500,000 to 700,000 acres to the U.S. Government. John Tipton, the U.S. Indian Agent, was a firm believer in moving the Indians from Indiana, advocating this to them and the U.S. government. In 1838 he was in charge of moving the Potawatomis to Kansas. He died before this was concluded.

American. [Pine tree flag. Original of present American flag was displayed by George Washington at Cambridge, Massachusetts: 13 stripes of red and white and St. Andrew’s cross in place of stars. After the Revolution stars for the states replaced this with seven red and six white stripes.] White settlers gradually moved into this area. Samuel McClure was one of the county’s earliest settlers in 1826. With the removal of the Indians in 1838 and the building of the Wabash-Erie Canal, the country was opened for development. Land was sometimes purchased at land offices in Ohio, Greenville, Dayton, and others, or at the land offices in Fort Wayne and LaPorte, all for $1.25 per acre.

One of the early farms here is the Russell Werking homestead on Route 113 east of North Manchester. It was purchased at a land office in Ohio in 1833 by Absolom Hart. Settlers came here from middle and western Ohio, some walking, some in covered wagons, and some on the canal boats, with drovers bringing in their stock, implements, and personal effects. These people were early American stock, some originally from Connecticut and New Hampshire. The Firelands in northern Ohio had been given as indemnity to families burned out by the British in the Revolutionary War. Some held their grants and migrated after the Treaty of Greenville in 1795. Many of these later migrated into lower Michigan and northern Indiana.

The classic Greek Revival building was brought to this area by these transplanted New Englanders who were a sturdy group, well-educated for their time, and remarkable builders and mechanics.

About 1850 and following, another wave of settlers came to this area from Pennsylvania and Ohio, mostly German Baptist Brethren. Their homes were completely different, built by hand of local material, much brick burned on the premises and asymmetrical. They were hardworking people who built the country up.

By 1874 most of the pioneers were gone, sleeping on the hillside. They had tamed the wilderness, preserved the Union, and given their children a fine heritage. Five flags have waved over this land which we hold dear today.


The following recipes first appeared in the “Buckeye Cookbook” which was published in 1876 and widely circulated in this area.

Oyster Stew

1 quarts water
1 tablespoon salt
½ teaspoon pepper
Heat to boiling. Add one pint of oysters, six rolled crackers, and one half cup of sweet cream. Remove from heat when it reaches a boil. Serve at once.


Wash and dry the haunch, butter a sheet of paper, and put it over the fat. Put in a deep baking dish with a small amount of water. Cover tightly. Cook in a moderate oven for four hours. About 20 minutes before serving, dredge with butter and brown. Serve with gravy made from the pan fryings. Always serve with currant jelly.

Plum Pudding

Beat together one half cup of sugar, two eggs, and a teaspoon of butter. Add three pints of sweet milk, a little salt, six crackers rolled fine, 1 cup of raisins and a half sheet of gelatin dissolved in a little water. Season with nutmeg or cinnamon. Bake in a pudding dish.

To Clean Silver

To one quart of rainwater add two ounces of ammonia and three ounces of precipitated chalk. Keep well corked in a bottle. Shake before using.