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" "jljnﬁi‘I-ROIT, MARCH 21, 1887.

THEHOUSEHOLD-"Supplemeﬁt - 7

 

 

 

 

 

\‘. i 1‘

 

  
  

’f ’ a," " '-;f-i;_.-:12EAP1NG. 5 J- g.
. . 'Along'the east, strange glories burn. - 3: ~ » ,

.1 ' :As memingfrom the azureum v y ,.
= -,_,:rgarsr_9r_thher 39193.59”. ‘ ' '

. V .

An d kindling'lightBJWP mg}; and higher.

. : silrédni’rts'sahu reed, pin bush and brake,’ 1,.
. ' -' . - Moat countlessjeweled gossamers‘, ;‘ .. _ -
' . Thatglance and dazzle as they shake ’ -.

, 'In every-breeze that stirs; . .

‘ Abi'rdiupspring‘ing'from the grain] 5‘ 1 . _
' ,V .' Flutes loud and clear his raptured note: *
a ‘5 That mingles with as blithe a strain » ,

As e‘er thrilled human throat. .

Amid the tasseled ranks of corn . 1 . .
shestands breast high; her arrhs are bare;

I

fell ‘p'anier, in whose, folds seams may be
concealed entirely if. it is necessary to piece
the goods. The former front of the skirt

middle back seam to the waist line; and a
vest of the plaid or stripe, laid in pleats and
if necessary wide enough to cover nearly

the entire front of the basque, can be put

in to cover any shortcomings of material,

the combination ivas made for its beauty

 

' And round her warm, brown neck the morn -
Gleamg on her lustrous hair. - ' ~s

' The, sickle ﬂashes-in her hand:

The dew laves be her naked fcpet':
' " . She reaps, and sings, and through the lan
’ ‘ — '~ She sends her carols sweet. ,_

The wind breathes softly on her brow ;‘
’ To touch her lips tall blossoms seek; ‘_ .
. And as the stricken columns bow,
'. . , They kiss her' glowing check.

0 happy maidenl in her breast . p.

_ Guile hath no place; her virglnsleepnf '

Vain thoughts ne‘er trouble; sheis blest; ‘
‘ She hath no tears'to weep. ' .. . ' " t '-

She knbwanor longs for prouderthings; '

‘ , Her simple tasks'are all her care; '
‘She lives and loves and reaps and sings,
And makes the World more fair. '

, ' - . 4. B. Kenyon.

WHAT ‘ WE ﬁﬁAl-L WEAR.

/

I

 

 

It.seems,perhaps; like “rushing the sea-

its unity, rather than utility.

will cut a short round basque, open up the—

and be at the same time very stylish. The.
inside half of the new sleeves may be cut
from the outsidmhalf of the old ones. In
combining two materials in one dress, be
careful to so study the whole that when it is
done it will'not look “ patchy,” but as if

It you have an Old black silk dress that
you “don’t know what; onxeartu to do!
Rip it up, sponge

fact, I think they never “go out.” Yet
they are expensiveif one has qual‘ms of
conscience which forbid them” toywear a 4’
blue hat with agreen gown, or commit sim- '
ilar eccentricities with other ihharmonions '
colors. But in a measure this may be'avoidc

ed by dressing. generally speakingAn tones-

of one color. For instance, one’s best.
dress may be a brown silk with trimmings

of brown velvet or iridescent passeme’nterie, -
'the street suit of brown. of another shade. -
much lighter, perhaps; a brown satteen with
dashes of primrose yellow, or ﬂakes of
white, and an ecru dress in thin goods,
would be an outﬁt with which a fancy straw

hat or bonnet, not too dark,‘trimmed in
brown, relieved with primrose yellow, could

be worn in perfect harmony. One pair of '
gloves and one parasol could do duty with

all the dresses, and it is these accessories.~ ‘

i

‘r < .,
.’ "..
v

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

   

'-‘" 1 them into netvfreshne‘ss for‘iEister. ' The
wise woman looks over her old dresses and'

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

son’lto talk of light, thin costumes before
. - Swinburne’s “ hounds of spring ” are fairly

- ‘ let loose upon winter’s traces“. But it is the
fashion to do a little penitential sewing ~in
Lent,‘to aid in mortifying the ﬂesh; and it

is a good-time to moralize on the vanity of
earthly things while reviewing last season’s
,s'oiled gowns, ~andvplanni'ng how. ‘to turn

acquaints herself with their p'oSsibilities be-
fore she buys any new'ones: cumbinations

- are still in fashion, and out of arr-old dress
and a fewyards of new matefial,‘ it is often

, V. possible to plan a dress which" shall never
. be suspected of being made ever; For in-
' stance, youhave a brownftricot which was

‘ ,v of last summer‘s vintage, but thewtbasque is
,unw‘earable4—probably because it: was ' so

, tight it pulled on at the seams.‘ 1T0 renew
‘ . ‘it, you will -buy enough’ stripedeor plaid
‘ goods in the”. same-general tone of color as
jj.’ ' the'dress, and-ices it foisthe‘i‘rontJOf the
j; skirt, draping ever it a longg‘pointed apron
ptthe‘solid'colored goods,»if thequadtityof

with,” do not despair. _
and press it, and decide you are going to
have something f‘real sweet” out of it.

 

7 _ - There is one good thing about black silk, it

may be old and worn, but if it 'was good

quality in the ﬁrst place, it will bear re—

modeling better than any other goods. An

old black silk is just the’ thing you want for

a foundation for one of those beautiful black

lace dresses, which can be worn anywhere
in summer and to‘parties and receptions
any time of the year, ,If you can only get
enough for the long black breadths you are
all right, for the *front ,of the. skirt can be
pieced any number of times to form the
. plain foundation on which is sewed over-
lapping rufﬂes of .French lace, or over
which is draped the lace ﬂouncing, imitation
Chantilly, which could be bought last year
for $4.50. It takes 1% to 1% yards, ac-
cording to the size of the wearer. If the
silkfor the basdue will not “ pass muster,”
the parts may be covered with piece lace;

lace on the front is. sufﬁ3ient trimming, un-
less a bit of jet passementerie is added to
brighten it up a little. Ten dollars’ worth
of lace willrso transform an old silk that
the rubst prying Mrs. Grundy who ever
spied out one‘s pet economies would never
know it. _If it be objected that ten dollars
is a good deal to spend in repairs, that it
would buy new material for a good wool
dress, etc., you have only to remember you
have for this sum a much more dressy and
'eiegant costume than you could buy for the
money, and-have also made use of material
not otherwise available. Of course one
thing is to be considered, the woman who
never goes anywhere would have no occa-

‘economy in it. for her. ‘4 . .

 

ma ial;pe

   

  

. 7"

‘ itszjifinot, making”? short,

which cost so much in arranging thedetaila
of a costume en ’Suite. If a’ wrap is needed
for spring wear, a mantle in brown velvet _
with feather trimming. or one of goods ‘
woven with heavy knotted threads over its, »
surface, will be handsomdt '

‘Surah and Jersey silks, at 85 and 90 cents}
and one dollar per yard, are very much more
economical and serviceable than the thin,
smooth faced “summer silks,” which have
not body enoughvto be really valuable; they
muss very easily,- and how they do 100k when
they are mussedl The Surahs and Jersey
silks have a twilied surface, are very soft
and pliable, have nearly entirely replaced -
the old-fashioned summer silk, and are‘
enough wider to make the difference in price

 

otherwise a few rows of. narrow gathered

sion for such a dress; there would be no

in cutting, let alone wearing quality. Pon—
gees are to be worn again this summer; they
are very serviceable; do not crease or pull
at the seams, and it is alleged can be washed
like print. - .
Fancy straw hats and 'bonnets, in all
colors, are to be “voluminonsly trimmed
with ribbons and ﬂowers, plumes being re- ’
served for the hats. There is [a legend that
in the old days when feminine head-gear
had attained an altitude equal to that of the
present, a certain Puritan divine chanced
upon that passage in one of the Gospels
which says: “Let him thatis upon the
mountain top not—come down.” ‘ With the
preacher’s license, he took for a text the
four closing words, which he made into
“Top-knot, come down!” and preached a ,
rousing sermon against the high hats, which
he likened unto “ top~knots.” The press
has taken the hat question under serious ad-
visement: in. fact it seems to me that the
world would have little left to talk about‘
were it not for women’s fashions, and a >

/

 

Sultsare tohold their own

.4 '

  
  

r ,

 

yet again; in' ..

"vigorous crusade is being waged against the

L‘\»


   

 

_ V:‘13"‘:"4:‘::“‘.".“5.9.1";:.L; ...;

  

. tude.

‘ .

2 ' , T H E ~ H 0 USE H 0.1:: D V

 

Vhigh crowns and stV1ll higher tiimmings.
But men might as well attempt to bridle a.
cyclone‘as alter a fashion—till women are
done with itV—and the new styles show not
one jet or little of abatement in their alti-
BEATBIX.

 

«,ﬁaourrNE.

 

Beatrix has so lucidly voiced my opinions
on the- question submitted by E. L. Nye,
that I only enter the lists to express my en-
tire concurrence, or in other words to an—
nounce, “Them’s my sentiments, too!”

Labor' 1s a force comprising each and all

of the mechanical powers in lifting man V

above the level of the animal creation, and
developing his higher faculties, including

_ his physical, moral and spirtual nature, and

just in proportion as this labor is made
steady, persistent and deﬁnite, so will the

progress be recorded, and routine is only

another name for such a couise.

Exercise of the body gives muscular
strength; exercise of the brain gives intel-
lectual vigor; and exercise of our spiritual
functions gives growth in grace.

It“ 13 net the work so much as the worker
that is at fault. When a man or woman

pts «9. position of labor, trust or re-
:pouSibility, V they are bound legally and
morally to bring to the discharge of its
duties all the strength, care and thought
necessary to a faithful and intellegent ren-
déring of the same, so far as their talent
and ability will allow. _

In undertaking this trust, they make it

V'their own,Vpurcl1ased as it is for an equiva-

lent (onside’ration, or what has Vbeen,ac-
cepted as such; uncongenial it may be, but
in this world, few, on an average, can
choose their lines of employment entirely,
'but ‘most .of lus Can by a cheerful, .self-

sacriﬁcing Spirit, rise abbve the petty ob-
JecticnStoavocat-hm which is made nec-
4 essary to us, and if we cannot conquer our

dislike entirely, we can at least “put a

. blanket over it,” uI believe that many who

are complainingly performing duties; who
never move except under protest; who prate

gunceasingly of “.uncongenial pursuits,”

-are really at heart not in lots with any
kind of solid labor, if they do not properly
belong to the class known as “constitu-

‘ tiona‘lly tired. ”-

Ido .1101: wish to be understood as re-
ﬂeeting on that large class of working
people, especially house-mothers, whose
complaint of routine duty comes rather
_from over-work than from repetition. Any
labor that ties a person hand and foot to
interminable, incessant, never ending, and
often exhausting duties, makes any one feel
their Work nolesVs than a tread mill. Nature
will revolt and protest, and a feeling that

the kind. of work is the object of disgust '

will prevail; when in reality it is the quan-
tity, rather than the quality that is the ob-
jection. Routine is nature’s law, but we

. nowhere ﬁnd it necessary to keep the

_ wheels of progress in exactly the same ruts

Seasons come and go; day‘ and night suc-
coed each other; sunshine and storm are

with us, but there is endless variation in

their sameness“ Men plow and sow, cul-l

V; tivate', reap, and garner their crops; women

i cook, wash dishes, and go through the

V minutia _of housework day after day, but

 

thought will suggest 'chan11es that will

ease the monotoily, if there is not too-

much of it—labor, not thought. V V
The mass of humanity are not, by nature,

so decidedly endowed with a tale11t,or bent -
for any one class or kind of __labor, that

training will not make them capable 1n any;
but where such genius does exist, it will
generally make itself so clearly and un-
mistakably manifest, that the thoughtful
parent or guardian will andeistand, and
should give such genius or talent the best
room for development that circumstances
will warrant.

I' 1magine if we were to wait for the un-
piompted showing, or p1edilection of the
young people, for some particular tr'ade,
profession or calling, we would be likely to
have a large body of idlers On our hands,
that we would have great diﬂiculty in
training to 'work of any sort. '

It is a good plan to look close by for‘

work to do, and ﬁnding that, do it quickly
and well. Give your child something to

'do; the training to appointed tasks, ,1ndustry

and application are good preparation for
the future, and routine is the name that
describes both the preparation and the ful-
ﬁllment.

I am a ﬁrm believer in the doctrine of
mothers, who do their own 'work, training
their daughters to excelif possible in house-

work; not necessarily that they must 111V

after life devote .themselves to it, but it
helps both mother and daughter, and the

latter 1s sure of one means of sellssupport.

Ixenasma. .. A. L L.
,——-—.oO—-—-——

CHICKENS.

 

Two years ago in passing a house” in
town, I‘saw in the yard six hens and a
rooster which just suited my idea of beauty
and build. They were yellow in color,
specked with black, with short black or
brown tail feathers, and low heavy bodies.
I soon made it convenient to call and pur-
chase two sittings Vof eggs, ‘but I succeeded
in raising only‘ one pair 'of chickens.- Quite
a number of the eggs hatched, but some-.
how the chicks all got killed in- their in-
fancy. An old. sheepmade a bed Vof ﬁve
just as theywere old enough to wean;a
minature cyclone blew a tree across the hen
house and demolished mbeest rooster. But
last summer from the one pair I raised seven-
teen thoroughhreds, and a nice ﬂock of
grades crossed with Light Brahma. They

.are very domestic intheir'habits, easily

handled, eating readily from the hand,
good layers and good mothers. . They were
said to be a distinct breed called the Golden
Tangle. Are any of the HOUSEHOLD readers
acquainted with that breed?

In' the FABMER of Feb. 28th I noticed a
diagram illustrating the cemparative worth
(or worthlessness) of various baking pow-_
ders; it is said the Royal is the only pure
kind. If so, of what is it made? Some
say cream of tartar and soda; then why
not buy it and mix it yourself, and let the'

baking powders go? Or, better still, why

not use good buttermilk? Some offer a'

chromo or some kind a of prize to induce
people to buy it; but my way is to pay for
the prize if I must have it, and leave the
baking powder in the store, as it makes
food much too bitter for Bass.

Pumwnr. ',.r.‘_

CHAUTAUQUA’S INFLUENCE ON
FARMERS; ' HOMEs.

V V 13“?» “(3”? V- ‘ “1V; V V
ll’aperr'e'ad by Mrs. W K. sexton, otV' Howell, at

thelnstitute of the Oceola Breeders Associa-
tion. Feb.18—19.]
‘\"\

.‘ (2., IV"
1 a

 
     

 

~___ (Concluded. )V

The farmers’ homes are the safe-guard of
our nation, Vand 1n the future as in the his-
tery.‘of the past, from them will go ferth
menVandV Women of strong physical frames
and strong moral natures; men who will re-
ceive‘» the highest national honors; women
who will raise the tone of public sentiment
to a higher moral pitch; and aside from the
study of the word of. Godrthere can be no
ﬁtter preparation for their life work than
"the prescribed readings of the Chautauqua
course.

The series includes sketches from English
history; English literature; trial of Warren
Hastings, ﬁrst Governor-General of India
, under the East India Company; claSSic
French course in English; history of the
early church; the Christian religion, a treat-
ise Von astronomy; and “Walks and Talks
in the Geological Field,” .a beek so_simple

‘w...

“sermons in stones, _music in running
brooks”’- and. beauty in ;, .everything. _ The
course also includes readings in the, 07111315
magmas, a monthly magazinezpublished at

the Century and other periodicals costing
twice that 'amount. Among the contributors
are Prof. Chas. Barnard, of N. Y.,an emin-

- ent scientist; Prof. Henry C. Adams, of

'Ann Arbor; Ernest Inge1soll;Jan1es Bay-
less, of the Iron Age;_Bose Cleveland; Mrs.
A. Livermore; Mrs. Gen. Logan, and a long
list of others equally distinguished.

The annual membership fee is ﬁfty cents.
The expense of books for this year, includ-
ing the. Chautauquan, is seven dollars and
ten cents.‘
twenty minutes a day. i

This organization gives an impulse to
habits of thought and reﬁnement and bright-

lives; and I wish there might be a Chautau-
HomeCrrcle in every farmer’s home, Where

hearth might enjoy the delightful readings
of the C. L S. C. This does not hecessL

gate the monopoly of the. time of every mem~
ber of the family, as one member may read
while the others are employed with some
quiet Work, and the evenings are sufﬁciently
long. to complete the course of readings, as
the year extends only from October to June.

labors, we would still have made a wise
choice. We are in a great measure arbiters

pie in the world so independent as to the
use of time as the: fermer. ' ,
.We must remember there are two Vgigests
to be entertained, the body and the soul.
.What we give to, the body is seen lost.
What we give to the soul remains foreverJ
If we attend: only to the wants of the body

nature, and our life is of little. availif we

 

 

spend, our VVVtholef time solving the prodhlem, .

 

and attractive that one is enabled: to see VV

$1 35 a year, a periodical equal in merit to .

’,The average time required is _'

ens and broadens hundreds of thousands of V
qua Circle in every neighborhood and a p ‘

the whole family gathered around the home .

But suppose these readings should encroach V .
Hsomewhat upon the time allowed toV other .

of our 0an fate and there is no class Vof peo- . .

and' neglect the mind, we have a distorted V

   
   
  
   
  
   
  
   
  
  
  
 
  
  
  
 
  
    
 
  
    
 
 
  
    
 
  
   
   
  
   
  
  
   
  
  
    
   
   
   
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
   
      
         
          
     
      


   

 
 

  

,‘ (pita-2 ‘

THE HOUSEHOLD

e

l 3

 

 

 

 

:a'nd whereWIthal shall We be‘clothed?”

‘ . “ Obi a wonderful Stream is the i‘lver 'l‘ime
., As it runs through the realm of tears,
'- ’ With a faultless rythm and a musical rhyme
a broader sweep and a‘ surge so. blime:
as“ It blends in the ocean of yeersq s 3,

Then as the years glide sWIftly by, let us
'3 'weave into our every d-ay, prosaic life, the

/

poetry or a higher intellectual moral life by,

1 ' ' ﬁtting the c. L. s. c., and its. inﬂuence
’ ‘ Will » ~
. ' “Makeahome aI hive where all beautiful feel-

Cluster lgike bees and their honey dew 'bring ,
- .Make it a temple of holy revealings

, ' ' Then 1shall it ever be when afar on life‘ s bil-
, , ‘ lows,
t ._ ' Wherever
,1 v, - . “They willo

wiwllo

. .- , . And fontg the sweet song whiCh their mother had
; . ‘ . sung.” ‘7, ,

‘ . - ‘ I ' ' . .
,1 i_ p — ~ TALK- ABOUT MEN..
XL " ~ ‘ ' ' v
’ _, Bravo! bravol Beatrix, if I may be aIIOWed
‘ ‘ ‘to eXpress myself in this manner, With the
proper understanding conveyed to both

our tem est tossed children are ﬁnng
ong for the shades of the home weep-

 

" , ' attribute bravery and justice to one as an-
' ' . other.
the view which facts will substantiate that

call out/my appreciation of the substance

‘, given in regard to the subject” of “Hired
Girls,” and. kindred other ‘ones so‘ ably
defended by Beatrix. She treats the false

-. . and absurd notions of caste being lent to
_ . . the saleswoman, who meaSures'ﬂtape. and
‘ ‘ ~ , ribbon behind the counter, while the one
1 ’ who manages, provides and accomplishes
- - the really larger amount of brain work in a
kitchen, when Successfully carried on, is
«considered inferior, because of her calling,

. ~ with fair and considerate judgment. This
, is not getting to my subject, though, and it
seems to me just now I could easily ﬁnd
thought for a volume on this man question,

.l '- ' . as discussed and measured by- personal
‘ ' , observation. In one of our newspapers

I have been reading a lengthy article writ—
Ren by a man, who says: “It is lamentable
'rthat so many of the home departments of
-our.best newspapers contain letters from

. rfarmers’ wives complaining. of their _ hus-
bands in one Way or another; you' seem to
.vhave begun. entirely wrong.” Who of us
has not known of women’ s shortcomings,
their duties as ..wives_ and. mothers, their

- obligations as a sex, having held the larger
' .and almost exclusive space inthese depart.
:ments of literature in the near past, and

. g , _‘ ' ~ more than an equal share is allotted them
' ' . ', ,unethinks to-day. _.Is not Woman helplessto

I ' .9 7 - '1 - arrest the ﬂood of speculation andfarrogant
. . - " f-advice poured out against her in. public
- , _' . _' 1 print, and much or it instigated by ”com-

. iplsining husbands? Why not use the red

. imot poker of roproach in stirring up these
_ wold, one-sided, selﬁsh, self-conciliafing
. l ‘ ‘ L, pleas, cherished and offered by man in his
‘ :i! ‘ ' . _. - :- «defence against equal privileges of the
’ - ,. i. _--: ésexos. Yes, I have that spirit within

* , which Would drag the whole masculine
'- arace upon the rack of torture, planted by
public sentiment and criticism; if it would

in time adjust their sense of justice, and

- 1 balance a- considerate view of meals and
woman’s duties as» well as rights. 7:.. “You

an «a, ._.... . . .
. . \

 
   
  

 

 

 

   

  

.,.;.,-.
:4. .

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

And love its bright angel with shadowy wings. -

iv 5 " , Editor and reader, that I_ would as readily -

It is the celnmon Sense idea‘s ands

.ﬁv

man? If giving expression to complaints

against injustice suﬂered, and from a
wiser outlook now .knoWn to her that she
did begin entirely. .. wrong, in a manner
ameliorates: those wrongs, and lessens
their keenness, why should She not Indulge
With equal freedom as he? Should woman
Speak no thought, echo no sound, but
dumb and silent, meek and submissive,
like the creatures given to man‘ 3 service,
plod on, leaving the great mass of printed
matter, untouchedgbya single wail of woe,
or-word of complaint, because he is her
husband? I say'nay; rather let the number

’ of complaints, portrayals of her wrongs,

thoughts of advice and direction to man be
increased than diminished, so long as there
is a just need of thesethings.

Doubtless' my sisters may think I have
departed from. the character which the
name of .‘Mercy implies. I trust not; I
Would say add justice to" its crowning
features, and it will have more nearly ex-
pressed the dominating motive which char-
acterizes this article. A Blief outline of
facts, which, with others, have come un-
scught to my underStanding, will“ portray
the spirit of dominance exercised, in a
home known to_ me; and then judge for
yourselves why some men are anxious the
veil of secrecy should hide their conduct
from public attention, and divert criticisms
directed ﬁt them. A Ilarge farm, well
stocked, good machinery, a fast horse, car-
riages, , and modern conveniences, good
clothes, the use of all the money, good
health, a son grown to manhood, and a
hired man as helplers,, belong to the party
of the ﬁrst part. The party of the second
part has poor health, poor clothes, four chil-
.dren, no help allowed, rag c.1rpets, no

each department furnished. No encourage-
ment, but censure because those slim sup-
plies run outvso quickly. Is‘ this wife to
blame that she does not succeed in assert-
.ing herrights? Isthis man respected by
his neighbors? His disposition and belief
are such that anger, tears, remon'strances
and entreaties on her part have proved
‘unavaiiing'onlyjbfor a short. time. And the
greatest punishment that ever seemed to
arrest or affect his selﬁsh nature, - came in
the knowledge [that-seme of his most es-
teemed friends had les'rned of his real treat-
ment of his wife, ’while'under the weight of
their indignation he seemed to do better.
Among his associates he is generally be-
lieved to be a “good fellow,” as he is free,
jovial and agreeable. 1t would be quite dif-
,ficult to convince some of them as to his
real character. I have studied this char-
acter until I am convinced a blind, selﬁsh,
mistaken idea governs him. And I as truly
believe exposure to public censure woold
prove the most_ effectual remedy in this

case. MERCY.

Mnranona.
. ———...—__. .

TOO MUCH COOKING.

F

 

Beatrix," in her article on the “Dignity of
Housework,”. illustrates the ’amount of.
talent . and absorbing ,‘and consequently

~ fatiguing laborinecessaryto cook a dinner,
:which' is. "onlyonegmeal of three, in each

 

 

. ifday, and . each .ofzthese, [meals must‘diﬂfer

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

household conveniences aside from real-
necessaries, slim supply of everything. in-

 

distinctly from the other to sufficiently

tempt the appetite and please by tasteful

manner of serving- We have neither Bible

nor reason 011 our side when we require
three~fourths of a wife’s time to be spent in -
cooking and serving us with daiutiee which
are more harmful than otherwise. Nature’s
real needs are few in the matter of suste~
ﬁance; and over-fed bodies and starved
minds and hearts are quite too common
among us. Courting days are bright with
smiles and kind acts,'lovingl words and
sweet caresses that bring a glow to heart
and check. If a sweetheart deserves such
loving attention, the wife of our bosom de-
serves far more, even a full and welcome
ownership of half our joint possessions, in-
stead of scant appreciation and a pension.
This I call good management of awife,
whatever Anti-Over’s method- may be.
FENTON. UNCLE BOTl‘.
--—-.-—-QOO—-——- .
OUR CAUSE THROUGH MARCH

 

” Through March of this year, 1887, there
is need of more than the usual preparation-
for spring in every Michigan farmer’s
home. Political interests of great impor-
tance have risen. Questions ,of justice,
temperance and reform are laid before us.
We must consider, decide and act upon
them according to our idea of right, throw-
ing prejudice and party to the winds, if, by
this, right is helped to become mighty.

Our Legislature «has submitted a pro-
hibitory amendment, Which is to be decided
by the people on the second Monday in
April. The rum power is doing all it can
to defeat this measure. On their walls
they hang the words: “Don’t vote for
prohibition!” ‘ '

We are wronged, cruelly wronged. God ~
only knows the fearful weight of woe the
liquor trafﬁc has laid on our homes. Like
a gigantic serpent, its loathsome body
stretches across our broadland, from ocean
to ocean. Its serpentine curves reach from
the gulf to our beautiful lakes. 1t rears
itself aloft and poisons Freedom’ 5 air. If
we establisha guard to secure any spot from
its encroachment, immediately it coils itself
and springs into our midst.

Its bony structure is composed of malt~
houses, breweries and distillerles. , .Its
hideous mouths are numbered by thousands
and thousands. These months are saloons.
lf‘a victim passes one poison mouth. un-
harmed, if he escapes three by strong
efforts, the fourth one is so near by that
his will power fails, and he falls into jaws
the law holds open. Last year they poured
out 738,690,374 gallons of poison drink in
our Christian land.’ Its myriad tongues
mock Love’s pleadings for her- treasures; '
blaspheme the holiest ties, and profane all
that is dearest and best. From out these
mouths dart deadly fangs of temptation.
They ﬁnd the weak places in their victim’s
armor. ' "

The boys say: “ It would be unsociable
and impolite to refuse to take a glass of
something. ” It is not impolite to refuse a
dose of poison; Donot let social, fashions
rule conscience. “They treat and 1 must
follow suit.” By this plea you take your
brother’s life into your keeping; Well may
you ask, with agonizing fear, Am I my
., 2., .- . - - ,,.~-’ 57““;

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brother’s keeper? Other boys say: A“ I
can take a little and never be a drunkard.”
Beware!’ The Only safety is in keeping its
frenzy-ﬁres out of your veins. aid your
brain and nerves yield but once to its be-
numbing inﬂuence you cannot be certain of
results .the next time. Keep clear of the
\pestilential atmosphere if you wish to be.
trusted. . . '
Many hopes are laid on the shoulders of
the young vOters. ' You are called to be
men. When the diadem of twenty-one
years encircles your brows, the govern-

» ment gives you the ballot, a scepter of

power. .It is your duty to hold it as sacred
as your lives. Each one should feel that on
his vote depends the welfare of the people.
This is not egotism, it is true patriotism.
Michigan helps to support an enemy’s
standing army. more than ﬁve hundred
thousand strong. We have granted sup-
plies and weapons of warfare to this
enemy. It has been treated like a friend,
and it turns on us like a ﬁend. It pays a
few paltry dollar's for license. It extorts
millions from the people to provide for the
destruction it has wrought. Every year,
now, it requires a million drunkards to

' gorge the serpent. Each year an hundred

thousand of these ﬁll drunkards’ graves,

' and the hands of nine hundred are stained

with murderous blood. We must ﬁnd

- prison cells, and build aims-houses and

asylums to hide the wretched remnants of
humanity it has made. ,
has cost our country more lives than all
our warsp ' .

_ Its cursedzeal never- ﬂags. It strikes our
homes,fand the home wrecks rise and fall
on the tides of intemperance. It declares
'lockouts" against health, honest labor,
knowledge, and every virtue. All vices

‘ are inﬂamed by its ”treacherous stroke.

Political issues are blunted by its enigmas
and riddles. It involves the labor question.
It has lured the healthy, ruddy—checked boys
‘away from the farms. Its two hundred

‘- thousand nefarious drinking dens exert a

wide inﬂuence in massing the population
in our cities. . - _
Farmers have found in this serpent the
,hugest monopoly, the biggest swindle, and
the vilest thing on , earth. What are the
advantages to be gained by letting it con-
tinue? Market for grain? Don’t strengthen
the serpent with your golden grain.

‘ Drunkards’ ‘ wives are praying for bread.
‘Théir children are starving. 0h, listen

and heed these earnest cries'. A child stood
watching her father clean barley, which
was to be delivered at a malt house. The
fanning mill groaned and squeaked in pitiful
tones. ' The child said the barley was talk-

ing, she heard it say:

“Oh, dear! Oh, dear!
Don‘t make me into beer."

Some ofthe serpents’ mouths have been
shut. In Oxford, Maine,. they are all
closed. As a consequence, the town has
but one pauper to support, and heis blind.
Dr. J. M. Buckley traveled th ough' Maine
in 1885. and found the prohibi ory law was
enforced sufﬁciently to produce less tempta-
tionrless" drunkenness, less of the results
thereof than in any country he had traveled.

_ mama Of Kansas. says: “ Steadily
. . and surely drinking habits are giving place
29.; “ hermit-7333:1169“ 8&- John tells.

‘us

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in a dozen years it ‘

 

“Prohibition has had a wonderful effect:
and if to—day the peopleof Kansas were

asked to go back to license. they would say
no on seventy-ﬁve thousand or. one hun-
dred thousand ballots.” ' Atlanta testiﬁes
that she would as soon establish Mormonism
as to go back. . .

The chief of Rhode Island police 'fur-.
nishes this item: ‘ “The decrease in com-
mitments to the workhouse under prohibi-
tion indicates a saving to the State of more
than $18,000 per- annum.” Four; States he-
side Michigan now have ,prohibitory
amendments before the people. Not-long
will the Stars and Stripes be wrapped round
whiskey bottles and beer kegs. ' -'

“ God give us men, - ‘ '

’l‘all men, sun-crowned, who live above the
0g, _ ‘ . : . . , ,

In public duty and .in private thinking:l ~

Men whom the lust of office does not- 11;

Men who possess o inions and a will;

For while dthe rabb e,. with their thumb;worn
cree s- .

Their large professions, and their little deeds

Mingle in selﬁsh strife, 10, Freedom weeps!

Wrong rules the land and waiting Justice

sleeps.”

"' But right is right, since God is God;
And right the day must win;
To doubt would be disloyalty,
To falter would be sin!”
LESLIE. H.

____—...—-———

BEREAVEMENT,

When the Editor asked for “more copy”
I said: “ if I had any thoughts that were

worth recording, 1 would write again to.

the HOUSEHOLD, that always gave me a

kindly welcome,”‘ but eyes that are best,

acquainted with tears see little that ' is
hopeful or encouraging for others, and
surely letters for this department Should
contain glad thoughts and helpful expe-
riences. Attendance on the sick received
an hourly reward of “loving kindness, 0
how great,” but now I have only a beauti-
ful memory that lacks, all the tangible
reality of the past: ~ ~ ‘ . , .-
“ For I‘ve known days so grandly bright '
So full of freedom and delight,

If all my after life were night,
I never could forget.‘

Perhaps, as the " world goes, and com-.

paring my own life with that of others, I
have had my share of earthly happiness; for
looking about and peeping behind the
scenes,‘ as even a casual observer can do
without a thought of praying intothe do:
mestic aﬂairs- of any family, we ﬁnd that
trouble is the guest of all, in some form;
and an afﬂiction that comes to us because,
in all the knowledge and experience of
medical science and the laws of our being,
there is no way to avert it, and we yield to
the inevitable,‘knowing that everything was
done that human help could do, is a sweet,
tender sorrow for which we receive sincerest
sympathy and, to some extent, extract com-
fort from our pleasant reminiscences when
other bitter heartaches' may not‘ be even
mentioned to one’s most intimatefriend;
for there is grief that carries so much of
humiliation and even disgrace with it, that
one dares not express sympathy, fearing to
open the wound instead of helping to
soothe the pain. .‘ -
A sentence in one of the many kind lets
ters received has, comforted nae so much

thatl (NOW it 88 Blipressing'my meaning
better than I otherwise can: . u They "0119'

good men—your dead and yids-4mm;

what it wogldﬂbe. we. mourned forfb‘ad“: ‘ B

-‘she' thinks Of it.

 

I ~. '
men.” 1 The same writer, who knew by ex-
perience, mentioned our lOSS as “the
greatest that a woman can know.” "Others
have meant to prove their appreciative
sympathyfby telling that they knew all be-
cause they had lost a brother or sisterr
parents Or children, but those who have
followed many dear ones to their last rest-

.ing'place know that, of all-the throbbing

chords, the deepest. tenderest, holiest, re,-

.sponds only to the name of husband. - The
_majority of the mourning ones have somev-

thing of the old lifegto give zest to the‘
new, that. “somehow or other must be4

met,""bu.t when all one’s earthly treasure- -

is held by one frail breath and they must
watch that growing shorter. day by daya
then they know, as no others can, what
death" means. I~We have friends and?~
friends, but '-~'

“ I better could have spared. them all

Than just the one on whom ’twere vain to; .

,He wag my world, and now the world seems-
‘ Why shﬁmld all these be living in his stead?”
With kind wishes for the HOUSEHOLD-
friends, and above all others for the»
Editor, whose words of sympathy were so»
tenderly expressed, I remain
WASHINGTON. ‘

W

EL SEE.-

SOME-FLORAL QUESTIONS},

I wish to ask Mrs. Eisner why my Calla
does not bloomﬁ I have given it plenty Of-
waterubut it is Of no use. It grows thrifty,.
looks -.well, but does not bloom. A150,.
why does not my-English ivy grow. It is.-
a year old, but ‘ does not branch out and is.
very spindiing. It stands in a south. win»
dowh'and '1 keep it well watered, but it:
does not'fi'ourish. ‘Has M.'tried her dislir
washer ' yet? 1 should like to know~ what
I ﬁnd many helps in the:
HOUSEHOLD, and we enjoy' the papers»
published in it very much. _ V
,EALINE; ' ZIP.,

W

’ ;' , i . Contributed Recipes. ..

Warrrnn Cam Era—Whip one. teacupfuli ‘

of very, thick sweet cream—use the egg-beat—
er’until stiff—sweeten to taste; ﬂavor with
vanilla Or lemon. Make a rich crust, prick it
toprevent‘blistering, and spread the cream
over it: when cool .-put ‘bits Of currarit— jelly
over‘lithe 10p. Serve the day it is baked.

Jrhis makes two man pies.

‘ FLOATING Isnm.—-Make a custard of, or .-
quart'of milk; yolks of six eggs: ooﬂeecuptul
sugar: salt. Cook over a kettle of hot water
or in custard kettle; do not let it curdle, just
thicken nicely. When .eool ﬂavor and pour
in a shallow dish. Beat the whites with a
small cup of sugar; ﬂavor and pile irregular--

1y over the custard. Some add a little ooooa-- .

nut. A lovely supper dish. .
Mooxsrmsn.—Beat the whites of six eggs.
to a stiff frothy add six tablespoonfuls of
powdered sugar;,to make it thicker, addmore
sugar, up to a pint, beating not less thany'
thirty minutes; then beat in preserved peach~
es, out in bits, or pine-apple, or a cup of cut-
rant jelly., Setin cold place to thoroughly
'ohlil. In serving, pour in each saucer some
rich. cream, sweetened and ﬂavored with
vanilla, and a liberal spoonful of the moon-

' shine: this will serve seven or eight persons"

A good substitute for ice-cream.

. ORANGE Fnoar.—One quart water; juice
and pulp‘of two lemons; one ooﬂeecupful of
sugar; when honing add four tablespoonfuls-
cornstarch: let. it boil ﬁfteen minutes, stirring
constantly; when cold‘pourit ever ﬁvejpeeledt

‘and sliced oranges: over the top spread the“ p ,
,beaten whitesof three elm: sweeten and and

, few "drops of lemon or‘vanilla.
Cannx.-, ‘ ”3:". T.
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