Verhovayak Lapja, 1943. július-december (26. évfolyam, 26-53. szám)
1943-10-28 / 44. szám
Page 2 By MARGARET VARGO Idamay, West Virginia Let's Hake a Lake Time creeps up so silently and so swiftly and one suddenly realizes that the deadline for the Journal contribution is just around the corner; and if it’s to be met, there’s dire need for speedy action. This week the youngsters will stay at home from school while their mammas and daddies make a trip back to the public schools —To learn the three R’s?—Gosh, no! —To get their Number Four Ration books! This rationing reminds us that all of us have our problems to cope with when dealing with shortages, “points,” etc. But the troubles are all large or small according to the way in which we wish to take them. There’s no trouble under the sun that might not be worse, so keep smiling— rationing or no! If you’ll but try to find the humorous side in everything, you will get along happily. For the benefit of those lassies who are contemplating the making of their beau’s favorite cake to send to his camp for Thanksgiving —let me relate to you the TALE OF THE TRIALS AND TRIBULA TIONS OF HELEN VERHOVAY. She’s the girl who was confronted by all types of so-called insurpassable barriers, yet conquered every obstacle and STEVE MAGYAR got his birthday cake! This tale starts a few weeks before Steve’s birthday. He’s been in the Army now for a few weeks and is pretty well contented with everything—his work, training, and the food at camp. But he does get lonesome for his girl friend, Helen, and the wonderful cakes she can bake. In one of his letters he mentioned the cakes— and this hint gave Helen the idea that for his’ birthday she’d surprise him with a large cake, all complete with frosting and candles. So the next day when she was inn the five-and-ten, she purchased all the birthday candles they had in stock—two dozen! She needed twenty-six, but the two additional ones weren’t to be found for there was not another package of the same color in town. “Oh, well,” she thought, “perhaps next week they’ll get in a new shipment. Better still, I can use just twenty-one candles on his cake. That’s all Eleanor Roosevelt ever has on hers. And fellows, too, may not wish to divulge the information to their buddies about their exact ages.” The most important ingredient —SUGAR—was the next problem. The family seemed to just always come out even on this item, so there was no hoping that there would be enough left on thfe day she must do the baking. Finally Bhe worked out a fine plan, whereby she would each day place into si jar the amount of sugar she would ordinarily use for cereal Midi dessert— eating these without sugar. As the days went by, the sugar was accumulating nicely. A neighbor—who had an aunt in the country—had already promised to supply her with the eggs. This was a relief, for it was a fairly regular occurrence that for days at a time, no eggs could be bought in any of the stores in town. The day before the scheduled baking arrived. Helen went to the meat market, and as luck would have it, the customers were standing three-deep in front of the showcases impatiently waiting their turn. Everyone was buzzing about the war news, letters from overseas; and occasionally little choice bits of neighborhood gossip got in. Her family’s brown-point budget allowed her only enough points for margarine for the cake —what with butter sixteen points a pound! As she stood with her grocery list and ration book in her hand, a lady gently tapped her on the shoulder— “Are you by any chance the Helen Verhovay who used to live on Fennimore Street?” “Why, yes,” responded Helen in a puzzled tone. “About ten year,s ago.” “That's what I thought when I saw your name on the ration book. I’m your old neighbor.” “Why, Mrs. Jones, I remember you now,” said Helen. And the conversation that followed was a typical one of the REUNION type. You know—“How you’ve grown!” etc., etc. And before they parted, Mrs. Jones presented Helen with a whole pound of butter, which she’d sacrificed her own points for—“Just for old times’ soke,” she said. What a break!!! Very FEW other near-misfortunes occurred. Shall I continue? Well, when she was about ready to get started with her baking, as she sat reading over the recipe to see that she had all the necessary materials, her younger sister—who was still in High School—got out some fudge she’d made in school that day. “And just think, Helen—all this out of only half a jar of sugar, she continued. It was lucky that Helen was sitting, for she certainly would’ve swooned. For it didn’t take long for her intuition to tell her what jar of sugar was being referred to. Naturally, her sister was greatly troubled and wanted to be helpful, so suggested that Helen substitute honey in the cake. And there was still a half-jarful— enough for the indispensable white icing. Helen was reminded that the neighbor often baked cakes with honey, and she would know how to change the recipe; that is, she would know by how much to decrease the milk that the recipe called for. So Helen, after spending an hour next door—because the little girl there had gotten hurt and needed First Aid and consolation, mostly the latter—returned home with the modified recipe. By now it was evening—much later than she had wanted to start—but if everything went well-----. Even her small brother was trying to be helpful. He’d beaten up a large bowl of soap suds with the egg-beater, and with a beaming, waiting-for-praise expression on his- face, looked up and said, “I’m helping, too. Soap beats up better than eggs! Anyway, I couldn’t find the eggs, Sis.” He didn’t know the big word— “Fortunately” which his sister used, but surmised it was a word of praise for his efforts. ,So with a grin of satisfaction and selfimportance, he glanced back at her as he went out to play. After cleaning up the mess, she was finally ready to start. “Now if nothing happens-----.” Everything went on beautifully. She measured carefully, mixed and beat the ingredients very conscientiously. But just when the batter was practically ready to go into the cake pans, the doorbell rang. It was the Fuller Brush (wo) Man. She made her calls in the evening for during the day she conducted a day nursery for children whose mothers did defense work. Helen, whom by now you’ve guessed to be a very patient and generous somebody, invited her in, but asked to be excused while she put the cake into the oven. As the Fuller Brush Woman began to show her wonderful line of brushes, she started off with the bottle brushes. Helen instantly remembered the vanilla bottle from which she’d forgotten to use a teaspoonful. There was only one way to remedy that—to sprinkle a few drops of the extract on the top of each of the three pans of batter, which hadn’t even gotten war yet. It was time for the 8:45 newscast, so with the Brush Lady’s permission, Helen turned on the radio. The first signal for a surprise’ blackout was being given. Too bad all the rest of the family had gone out to various places for the evening, for now Helen had to get the black-out room ready, entertain the saleswoman; and oh, yes, watch the cake in the dark! Her guest turned out to be a friend in need, though. “I’ll hold a flashlight as you peek in at your cake in the oven,” she suggested. By now Helen was wondering how long the black-out would last—and would she have time to find a nice quite place to bury the cake—which was surely destined to be a failure. But the black-out was short, and by the time the forty-minute baking period was up, the All- Clear had sounded and she took the perfect (believe it or not) cake from the even—beautifully risen, browned just right; and no one could’ve wished for a nicer looking cake, even if they could have seen it baking. While it cooled, she boiled the white icing. She had little more trouble, except when she smarted spreading the icing on the sides, it was getting hard and mealy-looking. A little hot milk soon smoothed out that difficulty and at last the cake was ready. It was complete with the twenty-one candles placed in a large “S" formation. Verhovayak Lapja October 28, 1943 OCTOBER October days are bright and blue; Leaves are tinted with autumn hue; Birds’ abandoned nests so high Almost seem to touch the sky. Leaves are falling from the trees, Flutter in the autumn breeze, Dancing lightly in the air, Then slowly dropping everywhere. Leaves that once were deepest green, Now have red and yellow sheen, Dancing hither, thither — to and fro, See them come and see them go. Indian Summer days are here; Children happy far and near; Playing games until the sun Is in the west; the day is done. Fraternalism in Insurance Although insurance is sold on a businesslike basis, it contains the elements of friendship and brotherhood, which make fraternalism. Insurance is something that is important to sell to the public, and it should be transacted as a business that offers friendship, as well as mutual benefits.' No amount of publicity can bring about any degree of growth, unless the publicity is of the proper kind — that of giving the ideals of fraternalism to its prospective members, along with the material benefits to be derived therefrom. The passing of years has seen the rapid growth of fraternal insurance; due to the fact that insurance is not sold on a commercial basis, but is offered to the buyer as a token of friendship, as a brother help brother in time of need plan. The ideals of fraternalism is brought home to us more forcibly at this time, when the whole world is plunged into a war of hate between aggressive nations — nations that have forgotten the true meaning of Nothing else worrisome happened in the packing and mailing and Steve Magyar was indeed a very happy and Popular young man on his birthday. Little did he know how near the cake had come to being non-existent oh! so many times! And now, my dear listeners, all who believe that these hardships happened to one girl at one any or believe that there exists any similarity between these characters and persons living or dead may vote by sending me some brown ration points. There is no limit to the number of votes you may cast—the number being indicated by the figure appearing on the various coupons yeu wish to send! And start making plans for that Thanksgiving cake you’ll send to that boy in the service NOW! brotherhood. Present world conditions is somsthing to wonder at, for in this enlightened twentieth century age, men are still engaged in barbarianism, destroying each other, instead of creating a bond of fellowship among themselves. Fraternal insurance promulgates fellowship — brotherhood in the ranks of its large membership; and it is up to the individual to affiliate himself with a sincere organization devoted to furthering the objective of mutual fellowship. This is the aim of the Verhovay Fraternal Insurance Association—fellowship among its members and between the many branches that now compose its large membership scattered throughout the United States. ------------v-----------THEIR IDEA Two modern littlegirls, on theirway home from SundaySchool, were solemnly lesson. discussing the “Do you believe there is a devil?” asked one. “No,” replied the other promptly. “It’s I ke Santa Claus; it’s your father.” Science Prof.: “What happens when a body is immersed in water?” Coed: “The telephone rings.”--------------v-------------CORRECTION In the Oct. 14th issue appeared an item in the Homestead Merry-Go- Round, entitled Correction, Please!, which is now corrected to read: Albert Jozik and Margaret Vargo are engaged, but the wedding date has not been set.
