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DETROIT, OCT. 2'7, 1888.

THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

T W0 BABIES.

 

‘l‘here is a little baby.

Always gentle, always sweet,
Who doesn't lack a beauty

That can make a babe complete:
Who never cries untimely,

Who is never, never rude,
While anything she doesn‘t know

No mortal baby could.
So winsome and so dainty,

That the careless turn to look—
But, chi this perfect baby

is a baby in a book.

There is a little baby
With sunshine in her eyes;
And many a fault the critical
Might coldly criticise.
ﬂer nose is over-saucy,
Her temper does incline,
When her small world is go‘ng wrong.
To take a twist like m‘ne.
And half the people pass her by.
Nor deem her wo:th a look,
But oh! she suits me better
Than the baby in the book.
-————-§9.—————
WINTER CLOAK§ AND JACKETS.
There is what the reporters call “a be-
wildering display" in the line of winter
cloaks and jackets this year. The woman
who has not a deﬁnite idea of what she
wants, measured by the contents of her
pocketbook, is likely to be at trying customer,
and can do no better, perhaps, in her per-
.plexity, than emulate the lady whom I dis-
covered on a recent Saturday afternoon,
the picture of indecision, the central ﬁgure
in a pile of cloaks, with two obsequious
salesmen dancing attendance, and who
suddenly broke out: “Well, I’ll make it
the subject of my Sunday meditations and
Nice you later)" A rustle of skirts, a
glitter of jet passementerie, and she was
gone «and I think those men breathed a
prayer of thankfulness as they mechanically
began restoring that chaos to order.
The long cloth cloaks, so long as to en-
tirely conceal the dress, are unquestionably
the most fashionable garments for street
wear. They are new, and like all new
things, are expensive. I have not seen one
less than 840, and from that they range up
to 375, according to quality of material and
trimmings. Be it understood 1 am not
talking about Newmarkets or ulsters, which,
in rough faced cloths or checks and stripes,
can be bought for $10 to $20; but of those
beautiful garments with sleeves of strange
construction, which are not as yet cepied in
cheap material. They have long sleeves
falling straight and square from the
shoulder, edged with drop fringe, and or-
namented with heavy braid passementerie.

tion to the arms, so there are inner close
ﬁtting sleeves provided. These cloaks
come in many colors, granite gray, Gebelin
blue, and the new shades in red and green.
The passementerie trimming is repeated
down the fronts and sometimes over the
shoulders, bretelle fashion, in the back. A
good many of the close-ﬁtting garments
with long “ angel” sleeves are worn; these
are trimmed with braiding, and for winter
wear the sleeves and both front edges will
be edged with fur. They are also much
less in price. Another model has the long,
straight efftct, with sleeves cut in with the
back, wrap fashion, sloping from front and
back and ending in a point two-thirds
down the skirt; this too has the close inner
sleeve. The sleeves are edged with a heavy
cord and each point has a passementerie
ornament; there is also a heavy passemen-
terie design covering the back to a little be-
low the waist line, where a band of beauti-
ful soft ﬂuffy fur is continued to the foot.
The same fur edges the fronts and surrounds
the neck and the close sleeves.

A good many of us, however, are not buy-
ing these costly wrappings, “not this year.”
And for the large contingent whose go-to
meeting cloak must not cost over 325 or
$30, up to perhaps 540, for whom a New-
market is not dressy enough, and seal or an
expensive cloth cloak the longed for, yet
unattainable, there seems nothing which
can take the place of a good quality of seal
plush. True, it has been worn a long time
and has become common; some of our
merchants advertise wraps as low as $15,
but there is all the difference in style, quali-
ty of the goods and linings, that exists be-
tween a cheap pressed ﬂannel Newmarket
and a broadcloth cloak such as I have just
described. Some are cheap and look
cheap; others are fairly good imitations of
the soft thick pile of seal, are lined with a
good quality of satin, and have seal orna-
ments for closing. A well-ﬁtting coat, 42
or 44 inches long, can be bought for $35,
and this style is standard—that is, is always
in fashion, and very popular with ladies
who like to look well dressed, yet do not
care to follow the eccentricities of fashion.

in fact the styles are so numerous and
varied everybody can be suited. These
range in price from $20 to 830. They are
warm, being wedded, and during severe
weather a band of some becoming fur may
surround the neck and extend down the
fronts: it can be removed for autumn and
spring wear. How long plush will remain
fashionable I am not prophet enough to
foretell. Every year the cry has been “ It
will be ‘out’ next season, sure,” but it
comes again in the new shapes, alittle ﬁner
in ﬁnish and better in grade: and it will
probably stay with us until something else
as suitable for dressy wraps, and which can
be afforded at as reasonable rates, has been
introduced.

There are long garments of a material re-
sembling the old fashioned beaver, close-
ﬁtting, with half wide sleeves, and braided
down the fronts and around the sleeves, at
$20 and upward; these are in navy blue, and
the copper and mahogany shades; the
prettiest are in green —which by the way is
avery stylish color this year. The objec-
tion to these is that they are usually so
narrow in the skirt that they pull apart over
the tournure, disclosing the back of the
dress, a not pretty effect.

Cloth jackets are many of them entirely
covered with braiding: they ﬁt “jist like
the paper mit der wall,” as the descendent
ofAbraham, Isaac and Jacob tells his cus-
tomers; are red, brown, blue, green or black,
have very little fullness in the skirt at the
back; and many have sleeves which, tight
ﬁtting at the armhole, widen into a ﬂowing
sleeve at the wrist. This is also the model
for plain cloth jackets; and on both for will
be used to border the wide sleeves. and to
go around the neck and down both front
edges. Fur is now never put around the
lower edge of either jackets or long cloaks;
and all fur trimmings are much narrower
than they were.

Quite elderly ladies wear medium long
black cloth dolmans, edged with fur or
ptssementerie; upon some of them pinking
is employed to ﬁnish the edges, and several
plnked bands are set under the edge of the
garment. Close ﬁtting coats or Newmar-
kets are not liked for old ladies, whose out-

 

While these coats cannot be said to be
stylish, they are very sensible and service-
able.

For those who like something more
dressy, there are the long plush Newman
ke‘s, which are more costly, ranging up to
$50 or $60, and the short wraps and jackets.
Most of the wraps have medium long fronts,
and close-ﬁtting backs, with the usual half

lines generally need to be sparingly dis-
closed.

And now, a word about what style to
choose. Study your own ﬁgure enough to
know what is becoming to you. If you are
short and stout, or even of medium height
with a tendency to have latitude out of pro-
portion to longitude, do not buya half-long,
half-ﬁtting coat; its lower edge will come

 

tight sleeve. Some have jacket backs with

 

These loose sleeves are of course no protec-

    

regular jacket sleeves, and the long fronts;

. somewhat above the knee. and by breaking


 

 

the length of your ﬁgure just there. make
you look shorter and broader. Have a
cloak which comes within six or eight
inches of the foot of your dress, or a wrap
short in the back with long tabs in front.
These half-long coats are, I think the most
trying to either the short or the tall woman.
The plump, trim form looks well in a tight-
'ﬁtting cloak, but when the plumpness has
passed into downright fat. the kindly dol-
man will be most appropriate. The very
thin woman may conceal her angles beneath
the same style of wrap. The tall, stately
woman should wear the long, simple
modes; she can “carry off,” as salesmen
say, a dressy short wrap as well; but she
looks frivolous in a jiunty jacket which
would be just the thing for a woman
younger in years and of less dignity of
manner. If you select a wrap which is
trimmed with fur, see to it that the lower
edge does not curve just across the hips
and highest steel in the skirt, thereby
making the ﬁgure look as broad as it is
long.

Many ladies who are having broadcloth
dresses made up, are also having long
redingotes or Directorie cloaks made of
the dress material, and braiding them them-
selves. The braid is quite large, and sewed
on over-and-over on one edge. .

I should say that the prices which I quote
in this, or any other article on prevailing
modes, are the rates at which good garments
or materials can be purchased, such as will
be satisfactory to those who know that a
real economy requires “ a happy medium ”
in price, and who are world-wise enough to
understand the y cannot get “something
for nothing.” Very often goods are adver'
tised much below such prices. but when
seen prove undesirable; and often one may
chance on a bargain, or pick up a remnant
or “broken line” at lower ﬁgures, but my
quotations are nearest to the ruling rates for
goods which in my opinion are likely to
return good value in wear.

BEATRIX.

A RAINY DAY IN DETROIT.

 

I was a pilgrim to the metropolis of our
State one day last week and the beginning
of my visit must certainly have been very
good for the ending was decidedly bad (that
is if you think so). I’ll tell you ﬁrst about
the good part, the Museum of Art. The
building itself is certainly very handsome,
but I will not waste any common adjectives
on the contents. Beatrix has told us all be-
fore of the bright particular star of the
collection, “ Last Moments of Mozart.” It
really seems as if nothing could be better
than this awe-inspiring effort of the great
Munkacsy, but it must be rather uncanny to
have in the house. Were 1 Gen. Alger I’d
leave it at the Museum and hang in its
place at home such bright bonny faces as
“ Going to the Bath” and pretty “ Yum
Yum;” the effect would be more cheerful
and home-y, I should say.

I wish to tell the lady who inquired about
the veiled Cupid that the eyes were colored
outside the veil with a bit of cobalt blue, and
the lips with pink madder. A sculptor
once said: “I can see the face of my ideal
in thesolid block, allI do is to cut away

the superﬂuous marble.” In ﬁgures of this

kind some of the superﬁuity is left on,
carved in graceful folds, and then picked
out with some instrument to give a trans-
parent look. But it was growing late and
I had something to see better than any
thing there—a pair of bright eyes way down
on Lafayette Avenue, that I’d not seen for
nearly three years; of course you know who
I mean; she’s still the same Beatrix, and to
meet her again was a happy ending to one
of life’s red-letter davs.

But any one kept awake by toothache or an
uneasy conscience that particular Thursday
night knows it rained steadily after mid-
night, and poor me had the satisfaction of
knowing as I lay awake in the early dawn,
that it would probably rain for the next
twenty-four hours. So with a day’s shop-
ping before me, and a hundred miles in-
tervening between me and my own in-
dividual umbrella, rubbers and waterproof.
how to get the same without getting my
feet wet was a puzzle worthy of a place in
the old mental arithmetic, along with “ A
fox, a goose and a peek of corn.” But just
then Beatrix awoke and after referring to
her chronometer remarked, “I’ve some
extra protectors against the rain down at. the
ofﬁce. I keep them for emergencies (I
think she expected me) and I’ll dress and
take a car down; I can get back in half an
hour, then we can go to breakfast.” And
that is just what she did do. So you see
she is something more than a “ fair weather
friend.” Two hours later we stood on the
steps of the FARMER ofﬁce, while she gave
me her parting benediction thusly: “ It
isn’t very bad to go around in the rain if
you don’t think so; take your time and put
on airs if the clerks don’t wait on you nice,”
and I trudged away under the umbrella,
like the fellow who bore “a banner with the
strange device, Excelsior.”

Being somewhat new to Detroit, it was
possible for me to enj )y the beautiful things
with which the merchant makes gay his
windows, just as well one day as another,
and I went into ecstasies, and a puddle of
water at the same time, over a beautiful
cloak of copper colored plush; but B. will
tell you all about these things later on. If
you are going to get a winter cloak, better
get it later in the season. What good
taste, what art is displayed on every side;
from the jeweler who must have a certain
soft shade of plush against which to display
his rare old china, to the restauranteur who
keeps a decidedly pretty girl in the window
baking pancakes for all who can be in-
duced to enter there! After slip-slapping
around for sometime, I withdrew into an
entry leading to a photograph gallery, laid
my bundles and dripping umbrella on the
stairs and proceeded to wipe the ﬂecks of
smoke from my face, which every one con-
versant with Detroit knows will from time
to time accumulate on the human counte-
nance. I may be poor, and obscure, soaked
with rain, and spattered with mud, but I
won’t walk up Woodward Avenue with a
black smudge on my face if 1 know it.
While this noble resolve was culminating my
attention was drawn to the large display of
photographs around me, and to the fact that
the gallery up stairs. ﬁrst ﬂoor, to the right,
was not by any means the only one; the

 

streets bristle with them, you can be “tuk ”

 

most anywhere. Here too art is making:

progress. Instead of smiling and looking:

at acertain point, if you are handsome and
have a suitable dress you can strike an
attitude best calculated to display a pretty
ﬁgure or round arm, and look as much like
an actress as you are capable of doing; I pre"
sume that is the object in view. Well,
sometimes the effect is charming; but when
a pug nosed school girl, round-shouldered
and stooping, or middle-aged woman with
ﬁsh-wife countenance, and ﬁgure like a bag

of sand tied round with a string, tries to

poseas “Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat ”
or Ophelia, it’s a failure “ and nothing but
it.” Oh, well, we’re all a bit conceited in
some ways.

But my day was soon over and I was
bidding good by to Beatrix in the bustle of
the great depot while the rain still fell
softly outside. I’m home now and it’s a-
week later, but it’s raining still. I wish
you might have seen my best embroidered
white skirt when I reached home; might
have left it in Wonderland for a monstrosi-
ty; have washed at it every day since I
came home till I was tired—got it most

clean now. a. c.
Vassaa.

a——-——”’.—_—

HELP WANTED.

 

How easy it is to think “Oh, I’ll write to-
marrow!” But the to-morrow does not
come and the things we wish to say. the
brilliant thoughts waiting to be transferred
to paper, remain unsaid, and all unsus-
pected by “ the cold and cruel world.” We
all of us look eagerly forward each week to
the HOUSEHOLD, and we all want it to be
full of nice bright things.‘ Hints for fancy
work, nice recipes to vary our cooking, good.
practical, common sense suggestions to tide
us over the multitude of little difﬁculties
that beset us each day, and still we sit with
folded hands (ﬁguratively speaking-liter-
ally I don’t suppose many of us do sit with
folded hands), and expect the rest to keep
the little paper full of nice things. It has
occurred to me a great many times ,of late,
if we would only all of us feel a respon-
sibility for the “ nice things” and send in
our little mite, how much we might help
each other, to say nothing of the Editress.
I am a young housekeeper—young and in-
experienced; indeed. am not yet out of long
clothes in regard to some things, but I pre-
sume even I may have learned a few nice
ways of doing things that might be of use
to others. It is barely possible.

I have thought many times if the ladies
only knew how they help us young house-
keepers hy their suggestions and bits of
experience, I am sure they would write
oftener. Then followed upon this the
thought, “How are they to know how
much they help me and how muci: 1 ap-
preciate their help unless I tell them?"

Where is Evangeline? She used to help
me so much. Some way I have her all set
up in my mind as a model housekeeper,
one whose ways were sure to be right ways
and nice to try.

I hope every lady who reads this will be
stirred to send a little something for the
paper, if only a recipe. A free exchange of

ideas is a good thing.
EI’PHEMIA.

 

 

    

 

.4.me

 

 


 

 

 

 

THE HOUSEHOLD. 3

ﬂ

 

ABOUT SIGNATURES.

Bess inquires how married ladies doing
business on their own account should sign
their names. Just plaln “ Miry Ann
Jones ” on all legal documents and wherever
her signature is required in a business way.
At banks a depositor is usually requested to
add the preﬁx Miss or Mrs. when she sub-
scribes to the register—or whatever they
call it; and must then remember to always
sign her checks in the same way. If she
receives a check payable to “Mrs. Mary
Ann Jones,” she must add the Mrs. when
she endorses it on the back, otherwise it
can be dispensed with.

I have said, several times, in the HOUSE-
HOLD, that it is not correct to sign one’s
name to a letter as Miss. or Mrs; here plain
“ Mary Ann Jones” has a chance. If it is
deemed desirable to indicate the married or
single estate, put Mrs. or Miss in paren-
thesis. Do not sign yourself Mrs. John
Jones; that form is to be used only in the
third person; but when you write to a mar-
ried lady always use as a preﬁx her hus-
band’s Christian name or initials, as, Mrs.
J. A. Jones, not Mrs. Jones.

If the husband bears a title, as Dr. or Prof.
or Gen., his wife never uses it in signing
her name, nor should she be spoken of as
Mrs. Dr. Jones or Mrs. Prof. Jones. I well
remember the ripple of laughter round a cer-
tain breakfast table caused by the reception
of a note from a lady whose husband had
been lately elevated to a petty justiceship,
signed pom pously “ Yours truly, Mrs.
Judge -—.” I sometimes see in print
“Rev. Mrs. Jones,” meaning the wife of a
clergyman, and it is so glaringly incorrect
that it sets my teeth on edge. If a woman
is a physician or a preacher she is Dr.
Mary Jones or Rev. Mary Jones; it is none
of the world’s business whether she is mar-
ried or single. Bevrmx.

-———...—.—.__
ONE DAY.

 

It was Monday, and we had the threshers
and men plashirg the hedge—twenty-one
men, by actual count. 1 had mixed the
bread before the ﬁrst streak of light, and
immediately after breakfast it was moulded
into the tins—ten loaves. I next proceeded
to season pumpkin for four pies. It had
been steamed on Saturday, and sifted,
making two quarts; into this I put the
yolks of eight eggs; two cups of ﬁne
granulated sugar: two cups of molasses,
tablespoon level full of ginger, teaspoon
salt, mixed thoroughly and added milk and
cream to make the quantity four quarts, as
my pic tins hold one quart each. These
were baked one hour and twenty minutes.
I think the beauty of a pumpkin pie lies in
long steady baking, with the oven just hot
enough so they cannot boil. As 1 took them
from the oven, ” golden hued as a sunset
sky,” I mentally compared them with
some at the fair in Marshallywhere I ate
dinner; those were about as thick as a
nickel and “white livnred.” I ﬁnally
traded mine for a dish of. rice pudding,
which also seemed innocent of eggs. I
never think that these pies need the whites
of the eggs. I always use a little more
pumpkin and leave them out; they come
handy for white cake. At ten minutes

 

after eight the bread was in the oven, and
I was mixing doughnuts; while frying them
beef was put on to stew for dinner, also a
kettle of beets. At ten the oven was
cleared again and four apple pies followed
the “gone before;” at eleven two sections
of potatoes were set over the cooker to
steam, a pan of onions put boiling, and
coffee was mixed ready to add boiling water
at half past eleven. The table was pulled
out its full length, and twenty-one places
arranged. At two o’clock I took up the
burden of life again, saying only: “I’m
glad this is not an every day occurrence;
once a year it might be considered a
pleasure, but if it was very often I’m afraid
I should bolt.” Well, ﬁrst on the pro-
gramne was jelly cake, three rolls, one
loaf of white cake and one loaf of tea
cake; a kettle of potatoes was boiled to fry
for supper. At half past ﬁve the clean
dishes were taken from their places and
once more adorned the table, pyramids of
bread and rusks, squares of cake, cold
beef, pickles, triangles of pie, making it
look like—well, what the hungry tramp said
from the fullness of his heart, “Mosht any
one could ate that.”

I stepped out on the south porch to see
what the prospect was for ﬁnishing. Some
people say the perfect days come in June. I
had scarcely cast a glance out doors all day;
the morning had opened with a grey sky,
but had gradually cleared until at the close
it was perfectly glorious. The sun was
dipping low in the west, throwing long
shadows across ﬁeld and lawn, lighting up
the maples which Were every shade of red
and gold from late frost. A carpet of the
same rich coloring lay over the yard, across
the way the leaves were leaving the apple
trees, but showing the branches covered
with green, red and gilden fruit, and I fell
to memorizing:

" The leaves when autumn blusters

Forsake the tree and die.

lint in falling show rich clusters
0f fruitage to the eye;

Thus Time in ﬂying snatches
The beauty, but displays,

One charm that all o’er matches.
A soul that ne‘er decays."

Oh: the golden month of October, rich in
color, in fruitage, in clear bracing atmos
phere, in glorious sunsets! But a little
imagination is required and we are at the
“gates aj ar,” the beautiful walls of jasper
and amethyst, the streets of gold, the train
passing through, and along the way the
musical fall of fountains, the singing of
birds, the strains of heavenly music, every-
thing that is beautiful, fair and peaceful.
Just as we search for familiar faces, just
as we reach for unseen hands, the sun-
set fades away, the gates are closed, the day
is done; and from dreams we come back to
realities; from peace and rest and quiet, to
this burly-burly, busy life we lead—this life
that knows no real rest until we are
touched by that magical wand that blinds
our vision, that deafens our ears, that folds
our hands over a stilled heart, and it is srid
“She is dead.”

The whistle sounds long and loud. It is
caught up, echoed and re-echoed by hill and
forest, and the work is far from completion?
stern Fate whispers in my ear: “ 0h!
poor deluded woman, be submissive to the
inevitable! To-night must you stir up an-
other bread-sponge, ta-morrow morning be-

 

fore Aurora gilds the east with splendor,
must you crawl from your soft and downy
bed, and with that mechanical movement,
acquired only by long and persistent effort, ’
mix the bread. Those men will be here to»
morrow, sure.” 1 set the tea steeping in a.
whirl of mixed thought—a regular salma~
gundi—and as I ﬁlled the cups with the
fragrant ()ilong I said to myself: “How
differently human beings are constituted,
especially the female sex! While Hiawatha
said ‘Who can tell what thoughts and
fancies ﬁll the idle brains of young men,’
with as much propriety can we say ‘ Who
can tell the aspirations that swell the
bosoms of womankind;' anl how fortunate
for hungry men that there can be found
women who do not crave oﬁi 3e, who do not
‘hanker’ after the ballot, who do not go
abroad on works of philanthropw but are
actually contented to abide at home and
minister to the temporal wants of their liege
lords and masters!”

Oh! happy Frances Willard
And Lh ice happy Susan B,

For your lives from hungry threshers
Have been comparatively free.

If a at ady stra n of muscle
Paves the way to higher life,

Tr c brigh:est crown of glory's
Captured by the farmer’s wife,

BATTLE CREEK. EVANGELINE.
“0-0——
A QUESTION TO ANSWER

I am more than pleased with the Hover)
IIOLD. as it comes to me every week, and
often think when reading it that I will write
something; but with the many duties that
fall to a farmer’s wife, I let the time pass
and do not get it done. I wonder if all the
farmers’ wives are so hurried and if they
do not wish for time to read some book or
paper that they have seen advertised or
heard spoken of. Were it not for our farm-
ers’ clubs we would know much less of
what is passing. If we think we will look
at the last papers, when evening comes,
some one will come with this to be done, or
that mitten to be mended-something to
claim the few moments of leisure.

In reading Naomi’s article on “Church
Socials,” I could not help but think that as
they are carried on, the most of the work
and care are laid on the shoulders of a few.
If we can have some literary entertainment
at such gatherings, and each one do some-
thing at different times to help, we can
make them proﬁtable in ﬁnancial worth and
mind culture. The kissing games and
throwing of peanut shells and popcorn that
are allowed at so many church socials, I
have no patience with.

I would like some of the sisters to tell us
how to can pumpkin. I do not like it dried,
and hope some one will tell us how.

Sauxa. GII’.

INFORMATION WANTED.

Will the lady who last spring gave a
recipe for angel’s food, please inform us as
to what sort of a tin it is to be baked in and
how long? Have tried it with more or less
success, but once after baking thirty
minutes it came out raw in the center.

Also, will some of the ladies please give
a good pudding sauce for using on stale
cake. LIZA.

GALEsaURe.

 


          

  
   
    

 

   

     

‘l.’

  

" U UV- '-

 

     

 

 

yon look shorter and broader.
cloak which comes within six or eight
inches of the foot of your dress, or a wrap
short in the back with long tabs in front.
These half~long coats are, I think the most
trying to either the short or the tall woman.
The plump, trim form looks well in a tight-
‘ﬁtting cloak, but when the plumpness has
passed into downright fat, the kindly dol-
man will be most appropriate. The very
thin woman may conceal her angles beneath
the same style of wrap. The tall, stately
woman should wear the long, simple
modes; she can “carry off,” as salesmen
say, a dressy short wrap as well; but she
looks frivolous in a jiunty jacket which
would be just the thing for a woman
younger in years and of less dignity of
manner. .If you select a wrap which is
trimmed with fur, see to it that the lower
edge does not curve just across the hips
and highest steel in the skirt, thereby
making the ﬁgure look as broad as it is
long.
Many ladies who are having broadcloth
dresses made up, are also having long
redingotes or Directorie cloaks made of
the dress material, and braiding them them-
selves. The braid is quite large, and sewed
on over—and-over on one edge.
I should say that the prices which 1 quote
in this, or any other article on prevailing
modes, are the rates at which good garments
or materials can be purchased, such as will
be satisfactory to those who know that a
real economy requires “a happy medium”
in price, and who are world-wise enough to
understand they cannot get “something
for nothing.” Very often goods are adver'
tised much below such prices. but when
seen prove undesirable; and often one may
chance on a bargain, or pick up a remnant
or “broken line” at lower ﬁgures, but my
quotations are nearest to the ruling rates for
goods which in my opinion are likely to
return good value in wear.
BEATRIX.

A RAINY DAY IN DETROIT.

  
  
  
  
   
  
  
   
  
    
   
    
   
  
 
  
  
   
  
 
  
  
    
   
   
 
  
  
  
  
   
   
 
 
 
   
   
  
    
   
  
    
 
   
   
  
  
   
 
   

 

I was a pilgrim to the metropolis of our
State one day last week and the beginning

the length of your ﬁgure just there, make
Have a

kind some of the superﬂuity is left on,
carved in graceful folds, and then picked
out with some instrument to give a trans-
parent look. But it was growing late and
I had something to see better than any
thing there—o. pair of bright eyes way down
on Lafayette Avenue, that I’d not seen for
nearly three years; of course you know who
I mean; she’s still the same Beatrix, and to
meet her again was a happy ending to one
of life’s red-letter davs.
But any one kept awake by toothache or an
uneasy conscience that particular Thursday
night knows it rained steadily after mid-
night, and poor me had the satisfaction of
knowing as I lay awake in the early dawn,
that it would probably rain for the next
twenty-four hours. So with a day’s shop-
ping before me, and a hundred miles in-
tervening between me and my own in-
dividual umbrella, rubbers and waterproof,
how to get the same without getting my
feet wet was a puzzle worthy of a place in
the old mental arithmetic, along with “ A
fox, a goose and a peek of corn.” But just
then Beatrix awoke and after referring to
her chronometer remarked, “I’ve some
extra protectors against the rain down at the
ofﬁce. I keep them for emergencies (i
think she expected me) and I’ll dress and
take a car down; I can get back in half an
hour, then we can go to breakfast.” And
that is just what she did do. So you see
she is something more than a “ fair weather
friend.” Two hours later we stood on the
steps of the FARMER office, while she gave
me her parting benediction thusiy: “it
isn’t very bad to go around in the rain if
you don’t think so; take your time and put
on airs if the clerks don’t wait on you nice,”
and I trudged away under the umbrella,
- like the fellow who bore “a banner with the
strange device, Excelsior.”

Being somewhat new to Detroit, it was
possiblelfor me to enj oy the beautiful things
with which the merchant makes gay his
windows, just as well one day as another,
and I went into ecstasies, and a puddle of
water at the same time, over a beautiful
cloak of copper colored plush; but B. will
tell you all about these things later on. If
you are going to get a winter cloak, better

most anywhere. Here too art is making:
progress. Instead of smiling and looking.
at acertain point, if you are handsome and
have a suitable dress you can strike an
attitude best calculated to display a pretty
ﬁgure or round arm, and look as much like

an actress as you are capable of doing; I pre“
sume that is the object in view. Well,

sometimes the effect is charming; but when

a pug nosed school girl, round-shouldered

and stooping, or middle-aged woman with

ﬁsh-wife countenance, and ﬁgure like a bag
of sand tied round with a string, tries to»
poseas “Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat ”

or Ophelia, it’s a failure “ and nothing but

it.” Oh, well, we’re all a bit conceited in

some ways.

But my day was soon over and I was
bidding good by to Beatrix in the bustle of

the great depot While the rain still fell

softly outside. I’m home now and it’s a

week later. but it’s raining still. I wish

you might have seen my best embroidered

white skirt when I reached home; might

have left it in Wonderland for a monstrosi-

ty; have washed at it every day since I-

came home till I was tired—got it most

clean now. B. C.
Vassaa.

—-—”_—

HELP WANTED.

 

How easy it is to think “Oh, I’ll write to-
morrow!” But the to-morrow does not
come and the things we wish to say. the
brilliant thoughts waiting to be transferred
to paper, remain unsaid, and all unsus--
pected by “ the cold and cruel world.” We
all of us look eagerly forward each week to
the HOUSEHOLD, and we all want it to be
full of nice bright things.‘ Hints for fancy
work, nice recipes to vary our cooking, good
practical, common sense suggestions to tide
us over the multitude of little diﬂiculties
that beset us each day, and still we sit with
folded hands (ﬁguratively speaking—liter-
ally I don’t suppose many of us do sit with
folded hands), and expect the rest to keep
the little paper full of nice things. It has
occurred to me a great many times of late,
if we would only all of us feel a respon-
sibility for the “ nice things ” and send in

 

our little mite, how much we might help
each other, to say nothing of the Editress.
I am a young housekeeper—young and in-
experienced; indeed. am not yet out of long
clothes in regard to some things, but I pre-
sume even I may have learned a few nice
ways of doing things that might be of use
to others. It is barely possible.

of my visit must certainly have been very
good for the ending was decidedly bad (that
is if you think so). I’ll tell you ﬁrst about
the good part, the Museum of Art. The
building itself is certainly very handsome,
but I will not waste any common adjectives
on the contents. Beatrix has told us all he-

get it later in the season. What good
taste, what art is displayed on every side;
from the jeweler who must have a certain
soft shade of plush against which to display
his rare old china, to the restauranteur who
keeps a decidedly pretty girl in the window
baking pancakes for all who can be in-

 
    
  
 
   

 

 

fore of the bright particular star of the
collection, “ Last Moments of Mozart.” It
really seems as if nothing could be better
than this awe-inSpiring effort of the great
Munkacsy, but it must be rather uncanny to
have in the house. Were I Gen. Alger I’d
leave it at the Museum and hang in its
place at home such bright bonny faces as
“ Going to the Bath” and pretty “ Yum
Yum;” the eifect would be more cheerful
and home-y, 1 should say.

I wish to tell the lady who inquired about
the veiled Cupid that the eyes were colored
outside the veil with a bit of cobalt blue, and
the lips with pink madder. A sculptor
once said: “I can see the face of my ideal
in the solid block, all I do is to cut away

was not by any means the only one; the

duced to enter there! After slip-slapping
around for sometime, I withdrew into an
entry leading to a photograph gallery, laid
my bundles and dripping umbrella on the
stairs and proceeded to wipe the decks of
smoke from my face, which every one con-
versant with Detroit knows will from time
to time accumulate on the human counte-
nance. I may be poor, and obscure, soaked
with rain, and spattered with mud, but I
won’t walk up Woodward Avenue with a
black smudge on my face if 1 know it.
While this noble resolve was culminating my
attention was drawn to the large display of
photographs around me, and to the fact that
the gallery up stairs. ﬁrst floor, to the right,

 

the superﬂuous marble.” In ﬁgures of this

  

I have thought many times if the ladies

only knew how they help us young house-
keepers by their suggestions and bits of
experience, I am sure they would write
oftener.
thought, “How are they to know how
much they help me and how much I ap-
preciate their help unless I tell them?"

Then followed upon this the

Where is Evangeline? She used to help

me so much. Some way I have her all set
up in my mind as a model housekeeper,
one whose ways were sure to be right ways
and nice to try.

I hope every lady who reads this will be

stirred to send a little something for the
paper, if only a recipe.

A free exchange of“

 

streets brlstle’With them, you can be “tuk ”

ideas is a good thing.

EUPHEMIA.


 

 

THE HOUSEHOLD.

   

 

ABOUT SIGNATURES.

—.—.—

Bess inquires how married ladies doing
business on their own account should sign

their names. Just plain “Miry Ann

Jones ” on all legal documents and wherever
her signature is required in a business way.
At banks a depositor is usually requested to
add the preﬁx MiSS or Mrs. when she sub-
scribes to the register—or whatever they
call it; and must then remember to always
sign her checks in the same" way. If she
receives a check payable to “Mrs. Mary

Ann Jones,” she must add the Mrs. When
she endurses it on the back, otherwise it
can be diSpensed with.

. I have said, several times, in the HOUSE-

HOLD, that it is not correct to sign one’s
name to a letter as Miss. or Mrs; here plain
“Mary Ann Jones” has a chance. If it is
deemed desirable to indicate the married or
single estate, put Mrs. or Miss in paren-
thesis. Do not sign yourself Mrs. John
Jones; that form is to be used only in the
third person; but when you write to a mar-
ried lady always use as a preﬁx her hus-
band’s Christian name or initials, as, Mrs.
J. A. Jones. not Mrs. Jones.
If the husband bears a title, as Dr. or Prof.

or Gen., his wife never uses it in signing
her name, nor should she be spoken of as
Mrs. Dr. Jones or Mrs. Prof. Jones. I well
remember the ripple of laughter round a cer-
tain breakfast table caused by the reception
of a note from a lady whose husband had
been lately elevated to a petty justiceship,
signed pom pously “ Yours truly, Mrs.
Judge ——-—.” I sometimes see in print
“ Rev. Mrs. Jones,” meaning the wife of a
clergyman, and it is so glaringly incorrect
that it sets my teeth on edge. If a woman
is a physician or a preacher she is Dr.
Mary Jones or Rev. Mary Jones; it is none
of the world’s business whether she is mar-
ried or single. Bearmx.

W

ONE DAY.

 

It was Monday, and we had the threshers
and men plashirg the hedge—twenty-one
men, by actual count. 1 had mixed the
bread before the ﬁrst streak of light, and
immediately after breakfast it was moulded
into the tins——ten loaves. I next proceeded
to season pumpkin for four pies. It had
been steamed on Saturday, and sifted,
making two quarts; into this I put the
yolks of eight eggs: two cups of ﬁne
granulated sugar: two cups of molasses,
tablespoon level full of ginger, teaspoon
salt, mixed thoroughly and added milk and
cream to make the quantity four quarts, as
my pie tins hold one quart each. These
were baked one hour and twenty'minutes.
I think the beauty of a pumpkin pie lies in
long steady baking, with the oven just hot
enough so they cannot boil. As I took them
from the oven, “golden hued as a sunset
sky,” I mentally compared them with
some at the fair in Marshall; where I ate
dinner; those were about as thick as a
nickel and “white livered.” I ﬁnally

traded mine for a dish of rice pudding,
which also seemed innocent of eggs. I
never think that these pies need the whites
of the eggs; I always use a little more
pumpkin and leave them out; they come

stern Fate whispers in my ear:
poor deluded woman, he submissive to the

after eight the bread was in the oven, and
I was mixing doughnuts; while frying them
beef was put on to stew for dinner, also a
kettle of beets. At ten the oven was
cleared again and four apple pies followed
the “gone before;” at eleven two sections
of potatoes were set over the cooker to
steam, a pan of onions put boiling, and
coffee was mixed ready to add boiling water
at half past eleven. The table was pulled
out its full length, and twenty-one places
arranged. At two o’clock I took up the
burden of life again, saying only: “I’m
glad this is not an every day occurrence;
once a year it might be considered a
pleasure, but if it was very often I’m afraid
I should bolt.” Well, ﬁrst on the pro-
gramme was jelly cake, three rolls, one
loaf of white cake and one 1an of tea
cake; a kettle of potatoes was boiled to fry
for supper. At half past ﬁve the clean
dishes were taken from their places and
once more adorned the table, pyramids of
bread and rusks, squares of cake, cold
beef, pickles, triangles of pie, making it
look like—well, what the hungry tramp said
from the fullness of his heart, “Mosht any
one could ate that.”
I stepped out on the south porch to see
what the prospect was for ﬁnishing. Some
people say the perfect days come in June. I
had scarcely cast a glance out doors all day;
the morning had opened with a grey sky,
but had gradually cleared until at the close
it was perfectly glorious. The sun was
dipping low in the west, throwing long
shadows across ﬁeld and lawn, lighting up
the maples which were every shade of red
and gold from late frost. A carpet of the
same rich coloring lay over the yard, across
the way the leaves were leaving the apple
trees, but showing the branches covered
with green, red and gilden fruit, and I fell
to memorizing:
“ The leaves when autumn blusters
Forsake the tree and die.
But in falling show rich clusters
Of fruitage to the eye;
Thus Time in ﬂying snatches
The beauty, but displays,
One charm that all o’er matches,
A soul that ne’er decays."
Oh! the golden month of October, rich in
color, in fruitage, in clear bracing atmos
phere, in glorious sunsets! But a little
imagination is required and we are at the
“gates ajar,” the beautiful walls of jasper
and amethyst, the streets of gold, the train
passing through, and along the way the
musical fall of fountains, the singing of
birds, the strains of heavenly music, every-
thing that is beautiful, fair and peaceful.
Just as we search for familiar faces, just
as we reach for unseen hands, the sun-
set fades away, the gates are closed, the day
is done; and from dreams we come back to
realities; from peace and rest and quiet, to
this hurly-burly, busy life we lead—this life
that knows no real rest until we are
touched by that magical wand that blinds
our vision, that deafens our ears, that folds
our hands over a stilled heart, and it is said
“She is dead.”
The whistle sounds long and loud. It is
caught up, echoed and re-echoed by hill and
forest, and the work is far from completion;

“ Oh!

 

handy for white cake.

At ten minutes

 

inevitable! To-night must you stir up an-
other bread-sponge, ta-morrow morning be.

fore Aurora gilds the east with splendor,
must you crawl from your soft and downy
bed, and with that mechanical movement,
acquired only by long and persistent effort, -
mix the bread. Those men will be here to-
morrow, sure.” 1 set the tea steeping in a
whirl of mixed thought—«a regular salma—
gundi—and as I ﬁlled the cups with the
fragrant OJlong I said to myself: “How
differently human beings are constituted,
especially the female sex! While Hiawatha
said ‘Who can tell what thoughts and
fancies ﬁll the idle brains of young men,’
with as much propriety can we say ‘Who
can tell the aspirations that swell the
bosoms of womankind;’ anl how fortunate
for hungry men that there can be found
women who do not crave ofﬁ so, who do not
‘hanker’ after the ballot, who do not go
abroad on works of philanthropS’; but are
actually contented to abide at home and
minister to the temporal wants of their liege
lords and masters!"

Oh! happy Frances Willard
And th ice happy Susan B,

For your lives from hungry threshers
Have been comparatively free.

If a at ady stra n of muscle
Paves the way to higher life,

Tr e brightest crown of glory's
Captured by the farmer’s wife,

BATTLE CREEK. EV ANGE LINE.

-—-——.Q.—__

A QUESTION TO ANSWER.
I am more than pleased with the House:-
HOLD, as it comes to me every week, and
often think when reading it that I will write
something; but with the many duties that
fall to a farmer’s wife, I let the time pass
and do not get it done. I wonder if all the
farmers’ wives are so hurried and if they
do not wish for time to read some book or
paper that they have seen advertised or
heard spoken of. Were it not for our farm-
ers’ clubs we would know much less of
what is passing. If we think we will look
at the last papers, when evening comes,
some one will come with this to be done, or
that mitten to be mended—something to
claim the few moments of leisure.
In reading Naomi’s article on “Church
Socials," I could not help but think that as
they are carried on, the most of the work
and care are laid on the shoulders of a few.
If we can have some literary entertainment
at such gatherings, and each one do some‘
thing at different times to help, we can
make them proﬁtable in ﬁnancial worth and
mind culture. The kissing games and
throwing of peanut shells and popcorn that
are allowed at so many church socials, I
have no patience with.
I would like some of the sisters to tell us
how to can pumpkin. I do not like it dried,
and hope some one will tell us how.
SA LINE. GIP.

M“

INFORMATION WANTED.

Will the lady who last spring gave a
recipe for angel’s food, please inform us as
to what sort of a tin it is to be baked in and
how long‘:| Have tried it with more or less
success, but once after baking thirty
minutes it came out raw in the center.

Also. will some of the ladies please give

a good pudding sauce for using on stale
cake.

LIZA.

 

  

Gunsnuno.

 


 

  

4:

 

THE ‘HOUSEHOLD.

  

 

GIRLS AND BOY S.

Because the hired girl is such a necessity
and also such a trial the subject seems
never to be exhausted in the HOUSEHOLD,
but today I thought there were worse things
in the world than being a hired girl under
some circumstances. Business called me
to the home of an Irish widow, and speak-
ing of her family she said: “When my
man was killed I was left with six young
children, and now they are all away except
the boy that works my farm. Katie and
Maggie are in Detroit, where they’ve been
most three years. They both work for the
same lady. One gets three dollars a week
and'the other three and a half, and the
folks they live with went to that big island
(Mackinac) and was gone most all summer.
and took them right along to do the work
and take care of the children there, and
they had an awful nice time. Anna, here,
is home now because the lady she works
for has gone to Europe, but she’s going
back when she comes pretty soon, and she
lives just near where the other girls are, so
they have each other for company;" and so
she rattled on, but I did not wonder that
the poor mother was proud of her daughters.

She had no means of giving them an educa-
tion, but they must certainly have had good
training, and a mine of good common sense
to “ know their place and keep it” so well,
that as the years went by there was no lost
time, and they were not only able to clothe
themselves well, but had helped the poor,
hard-working mother.

If girls are to be kitchen helps from force
of circumstances, how much better for them-
selves as well as those who hire, if they
would only aim at perfection, and make
their services so valuable that they can re-
main in one place as long as they choose.

A working girl may ‘.‘ get to the front ” in

her profession as well as any other, and the
better service as surely brings better wages
and greater privileges; but oh! those care-
less, indifferent ones who have no aims but
to get a ” fellow,” no idea of responsibility,
and no interest in anything but the money
that they will get for their time, not for the
work accomplished.

Mrs. Edwards writes on a subject in
which I am deeply interesmd—work for the
boys. Let them early learn the value of
time as well as of money, and there would
be fewer wrecks. The craze for fancy
work occupies much Of the time of girls; if
not to pecuniary advantage, they at least
learn how much can be accomplished in an
houror a day, and when the need comes can
apply that knowledge to good advantage;
but the boy who “loafs around town ”
takes " no note of time ” and cannot realize
or understand its value. Not all morhers
make their boys as useful in the house, if

they lack out of door employment, as a

friend of mine does. She recently said:

“I haven‘t put up a can of fruit this year.

When the strawberries were ready Fred (a

sixteen year old boy) said ‘I'll see to

them.’ He’s followed it up as other fruit

came along, and does it all so nice that I‘m

very thankful.”

velop the man like business pursuits, but it

is much better than nothing to do and they

can be very helpful. Er. San.

Of course it does not de-

A SCRAP.

 

I wish to say to L C. that I have found a

“ better way” for the coal stove. A year

ago last spring I hired a couple of men to

come and take my coal stove down and set

it in the pantry. This was in May, cost 81.

In October the stove must be in place again.

Two men Of course. They took the stove——

a new Art Garland for which I paid 340 in

the fall—all to pieces, cleaned it, and made

it in every sense to look exactly like a new

stove right from the shop. Cost, 3%.

"Whew! Jimminy! l ” says I, “can’t stand

that, must devise ways and means to save

that money.” And I did, too; and this is
how I did it:

When I cleaned house last spring I got

the woman who helped me with the clean-
ing to black and polish the nickel-plating
of the stove, clean out all the ashes, etc.,
and I cleaned the isinglass. When we got
through the stove looked just as well as it
did with its $3 rubbing and scrubbing, and
I left it standing in its place, a thing of
beauty and as a friend of mine says, a “real
ornament to a room, even in hot weather.”
And so now my stove is clean and in place,
ready to radiate warmth whenever I choose
to set the ﬁre going. I have a real little
jewel of a wood stove that ﬁlls the bill as a
heater at present. That too, I get the
woman to polish for me. She is strong, and
had just as soon do that as anything; and
I ﬁnd it far cheaper, and better every way
to keep all the stoves in place the year
round. E. L. NYE.

FLINT.
_—_—...*———-—

A LITERARY SOCIETY.

 

In reply to Bess, of Plainwell, I will give
a sketch of one meeting of our literary
society, for I imagine that is what she wants
more than a history of the society.
Our society is a ladies’ society, married or
single, old or young; we meet afternoons.
In summer the time is two o’clock, in
winter one or half past; the meetings are
once in three weeks.
We have a constitution and by-laws; our
ofﬁcers are a president, vice president,
secretary, treasurer, chaplain, music com-
mittee of three, and a programme committee
of three, I have been told by one Of the
organizers, that one of the stipulations or
agreements was that every member should
make an efort to be present at every meet-
ing. Our programme is as follows: Sing-
ing, reading of psalm, singing, followed by
repetition of the Lord’s Prayer in concert,
standing; secretary then calls the roll,
to which each lady responds “ Present,” or
by quotation of a proverb, or any wise saw,
verse of Scripture, or poetry, just what each
one chooses. Then the minutes of the pre-
ceeding meeting are read, and business, if
there is any. called up and disposed of. I
will say here, we pay ten cents a quarter
each, these dues, forty cents a year for each
member, creates a fund to draw from, to
pay for anything that we need to buy. as
coffee, sugar, ice cream, etc. for our picnic,
and pay for our little pamphlets, or any
other thing thought advisable.

Returning to the programme, we have an

essay by one lady ﬁrst. unless the lady who

which happens often; then a reading by an-
other lady, ('his reading is one of the
pamphlets of the Chautauqua “Spare
Minute Course)” a. recitation by still an-
other one; then a select reading, something
not very long, and not very heavy, followed
by the discussion of some question. For a
sample I will give you the question for our
next meeting, November ist, " Which best
develops character, prosperity or adversity?”
This is participated in by all who chews to
say anything on the subject. Then comes
ﬁve minutes’ intermission, which the sec-
retary improves to pick up questions for the
“ question box,” and the programme com-
mittee to make out the programme for the
second meeting ahead; the meeting is then
called to order, the questions read and
answered by any one who can; the chair-
man of programme committee reads the
programme for the two following meetings;
and the lady who chooses to entertain the
society next arises, and invites the ladies
to meet at her home; a motion is then in
order to accept her invitation, and to adjourn
for three weeks.

The social part follows and the refresh-
ments are passed; our rule requires every
lady to bring her own napkin; plates. cups,
forks and teaspoons are passed around;
the refreshments are not to exceed the fol-
lowing: Ccﬁee or tea, bread or biscuit
(only one) and butter, one kind of cold
meat, jelly or jam, pickles or cheese. and
two kinds of cake. We part with reluct-
ance " when the night draws near;” I think
every member feels that the society is an
educator, and a delightful social recreation.
If I have not given Bess the information
she wanted, ask again, and I will do the
best I can to enlighten her on the dark
points. x. a. n.
ALBION.

THE best way of testing jelly to see if it
will “set ” is to drOp a little into a glass of
cold water. If it settles it is done enough;
if it spreads it needs more boiling. If you
want light colored jellies do not boil them
too long. Heat the sugar to avoid much
boiling. Juice boiled too long or past a
certain point, will often refuse to harden or
“sei-;” as “Meg” despairingly said in
"Little Women,” “the jelly wont jeil.”
The general rule is to boil the juice twenty
minutes, add the hot sugar, let boil ﬁve
minutes, then begin to test by dropping into
water as above.

 

Contributed Recipes.

(loans-rams Cans—Whites of four eggs:
one cup sugar; half cup butter; one cup flour:
half cup cornstarch; half cup sweet milk;
half teaspoonful soda: one teaspoonful Of
cream of tartar. ’

A Cnur LAYER Chan—White of one egg;
two-thirds cup sugar :butter size of a large wal-
nut; twcthlrds cup milk; one and a half cups
n :ur: one tablespoonful cornstarch; two large
teaspoonfnis baking powder. This is a good
recipe.

humans—Two eggs; one teaonpful but-
termilk, or sour milk; half cup sweet milk;
one teaspooufnl soda; two and a half cups of
ﬂour, or little more. Hope these are not old
to all, and will be acceptable. Lila.

 

 

Wumcrox.

entertains us has an address of welcome,

 

GWEN.

   

 

 

 

 

