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Use deep custard plates; bake, rather slowly at first, until well thickened and nicely brown on top. From MRS. ANNIE L. Y. ORFF, of Missouri, Alternate Lady Manager. One cup milk; yolks of two eggs; four grated apples; small spoon of melted butter; one-half cup sugar; nutmeg to flavor; pinch of salt. Bake in one crust. Make a frosting with whites of eggs and two spoons of sugar. Brown delicately.
The Cap'n gazed on him balefully, and resumed: "'One Arizima Orff has bewitched and bedeviled him, his cattle, his chattels, his belongings, including one calf, one churn, and various ox-chains.
Mike put it in the club yes'day." The burial-club, Mrs. Sprowl meant, and Harriet evidently understood the allusion. "Have you walked?" went on the woman, doubling up her paper, and then throwing it aside. "Dessay you could do with somethin' to take the cold orff yer chest. Liz," she called out to some one behind the bar, with which the parlour communicated by an open door; "two Irish!"
Put it on a pasteboard and when cold roll to the desired thickness, about one-quarter of an inch thick; lay any kind of jam over the paste, roll it into a bolster-like form and bake. Serve cold, whole, or in slices nearly an inch thick. Time twenty to twenty-five minutes to bake. From MRS. ANNIE L. Y. ORFF, of Missouri, Alternate Lady Manager.
Have ready a lemon frosting, and the result will be a most beautiful cake, fit to grace any occasion. From MRS. ANNIE L. Y. ORFF, of Missouri, Alternate Lady Manager. Mix one and one-half cups pulverized sugar; one teacup flour; a little salt; one teaspoon baking powder; beat the whites of eleven eggs to a stiff froth; flavor with lemon or vanilla; mix all together and bake.
"She's Arizima Orff, and that's her house over the rise of that land where you can see the chimblys." Mr. Gammon was perfunctory in that reply, but immediately his little blue eyes began to sparkle and he launched out into his troubles. "There's them that don't believe in witches. I know that! And they slur me and slander me. I know it. I don't get no sympathy.
Orff had sunk down weakly on a bed of asters, and was staring from face to face. "Marm," said Hiram, taking off his plug hat and advancing close to the fence, "Cap'n Sproul and myself don't make it our business to pry into private affairs, or to go around this town saving decent wimmen from Batson Reeves. But we seem to have more or less of it shoved onto us as a side-line. You listen to me!
Not a child in the Gardens but was constantly threatened by its parents with a violent death; this was so familiar that it had lost its effect; where the nurse or mother in the upper world cries, 'I shall scold you! in the nether the phrase is, 'I'll knock yer 'ed orff! To 'I shall be very angry with you' in the one sphere, corresponds in the other, 'I'll murder you! These are conventions matters of no importance.
Now break an egg into a howl, beat well and add four tablespoons of sugar and one cup of rich milk; pour this over the apples; with the jag iron cut the remainder of the paste into narrow strips and lay across to form squares. Bake in a moderate oven until the custard "sets." Place on ice in summer; eat slightly warm in winter. From MRS. ANNIE L, Y. ORFF, of Missouri, Alternate Lady Manager.
Mix thoroughly, mold into two bricks and bake like a roast. This makes a very nice dish sliced cold for ten. A very little sage can be added if desired. From MRS. ANNIE L. Y. ORFF, of Missouri, Alternate Lady Manager.
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