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DETROIT.

MAY 10, 1.890.

 

THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

WOMAN'S WORK.

 

With many a turn my steps I take,
In many a crook and crevice,
And many a biscuit I must bake
For Maud and me and Levis.
I sweep, I dust, I cook, I rise
Up in the morning early:
I wash the breakfast dishes and
l churn and dress the baby.
I make the dust and dry leaves ﬂy
Against my new broom fairly;
I chatter, chatter as I go,
Because I rest so rarely;
“ For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever, ever,
I go on forever."

'I move about and in and out,
While here the chickens feeding,
And here and there at a hawk to shout,
But 1'ttle they are needing.
I walk, I run, I skip, I hop
From one thing to another;
I stop to dress a bruise or cut,
For the children run to mother.
Then to the garden I must go
To see what work is needed,
For plants must be set out you know,
And then they must be weeded.
For men can’t s'op, for they must go
But we work on forever, ever,
We work on for ever.

I clear the tray and “ put to rights"
The dining-room and kitchen;
I then go in my room to sew,
And try to do some stitching.
I wonder if there is on earth
No res‘pite from our labors,
No time to go and gossip some
With pleasant, friendly neighbors?
Before I end this piece of work
And try to think a little,
I throw it down and run and make
A fire and place the kettle.
, J'or men must eat and go, you know.
But women can go never.
Yes, men will come and men will go,
But we work on for ever, ever,
We work on forever.
—Tha Freeman.

“ NO TROUBLE."

 

In common with everybody else, or every-
body who could, we attended the Flower
Show, and as we chanced to be there dur~
ing the cool uncrowded Thursday, we saw
the display at its best, and feel prepared to
endorse all that the papers have recorded;
for, from the early start in the mom until
ten p. m. return, everything was simply
perfect, not a jar or mishap to mar the
:day’s enjoyment.

On the following day El. See. “kept
house ” for a kinswoman, that she might
prolong her stay in the, to her, charmed
enclosure, for she is a literal ﬂower wor-
~shipper. Just at twilight a ring at the

found an old woman in a thin single shawl
shivering on the porch. When she came
in to the warmth her cough was so trouble-
some that she could hardly tell me, in her
broken French, that she had walked that
day from Rochester and was going to
Romeo to visit her son and “ Could I stay
the night? I very all tired, so many up,
down.” I could hardly credit her story at
ﬁrst, that she had started on a fourteen-
mile walk, parallel with the railroad, and
had already accomplished a half of the
distance over the steep, stony bills—
the “ up, down” as she expressed it. I
asked it she had no money and she said,
“Oh no, I not walk so far if I had money,”
and all for the lack of forty cents that poor
old white-haired woman was traveling
that weary way, having had nothing to
eat since the morning. Her story was all
true, as I knew when she told me her
name, her husband dying years ago from
a fall from a scaffold, leaving her with ﬁve
small children. I hastily brewed some tea,
and sitting at the table encouraged her to
eat some supper, though she was “ all
tired." In our talk she said: "You white
hair too and you so young face.” and as
explanation I said: “ I have had so much
trouble.” Her old eyes lighted up and her
homely face was fairly radiant as she looked
at me and slowly replied “I have no
trouble.” I must have looked my astonish-
ment at such a statement, for her features
took on an almost saintly expression as she
repeated: “ I have no trouble. God so
good. He got my husband all safe, but
that not trouble. If we part, all far " and
she motioned wide with her hands, “that
trouble, not when God have him. I be-
long to God, too; I go when He wants me,
I Christian woman here,” putting her old
wrinkled hand over her heart; and meekly
bowing, I could only say: “I think you
are." What a rebuke that old widow
mother’s faith was to me? Homeless,
penniless, weary and worn, she could say
from the depth of her heart that she had
“ no trouble,” and so many who could
count almost innumerable blessings go on
through life burdened with a load of care!
From the depth of my heart I pray for a
measure of that old woman’s faith and
trust to help’me in the many “ up, downs "
of life. It was a homely lesson that I can.
not forget. Next morning she went re-
joicing to the depot to ﬁnish her journey
thus, and :when, an hour later, a cold
storm set in I was thankful_to feel that she
had reached her destination.

come to my assistance, but my “cooking
for one” cannot be depended upon. Just
now I am watching by the bedside of a
sweet girl cousin, noting the labored
breathing and the hectic ﬂush on the thin
face, for the disease is consumption—that
Nemesis of our family—and too well we
know that in a few days at most, the light
will go out of those large, pathetic brown
eyes, and the fond parents who have caught
at every straw of hope will be desolate.
The father holds her in his lap as tenderly
as when she ﬁrst nestled there, twenty years
ago, but his empty arms will soon reach
out in vain for his “baby,” for the de-
stroyer makes swift work here, ﬁrst the
grippe and then the hereditary malady,
and a few weeks tell all the story. We
know that it will be well with her, but
that cannot cure the heartache, and with
all this and the lonely days that stretch
out before us, how can we have grace to
say that we have “ no trouble?”

Rouse. E L. SEE.

 

THE DOMESTIC PROBLEM.

It had been a long tedious night, caring
for a peevish baby, cross from teething
and warm weather, and there were alarm-
ing symptoms of sick headache, which
usually unﬁtted the Madam for anything
like manual labor, and reduced consider-
ably her limited stock of patience and
reason. About daybreak both fell asleep
from sheer exhaustion, and it was nine
o'clock when the mother sprung from her
bed, a nervous dread possessing her that
numberless duties remained undone. Her
help was much younger and less expe-
rienced than had ever been employed before;
and when Samuel had told her early in the
season that he could not possibly allow her
more than one dollar and seventy-ﬁve cents
per week for a girl, her heart had sunk, for
various rumors had reached her ears that
competent help would be three dollars per
week. And this girl was a stranger, had
come to the door only afew days before!
asking for work, and seemed thankful for
the stipulated sum —a bright tidy, rosy
checked girl. She sprung to her feet with.
visions of wild disordered rooms, baking
undone, children late at school and the
dread of Samuel’s displeasure. Hastily

smoothing her hair, pinning on a collar
and tying her apron on the way, she struck
out for the kitchen realm. The dining-
room looked cool and inviting, it had been
swept and dusted, the screens were closed,

 

 

door bell was answered by “ the girl,” who

. 1am duly thankful to the friendswhn.

a bouquet of roses and morning glories on
the table, which was neatly spread, the

  

       
   


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2 THE HOUSEHOLD.

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plants fresh watered, the canary singing in
his clean cage. Surely a good fairy had
been at work here, for nothing remained
undone. She opened the door into the
kitchen and here were signs Of the same
deft hand. The m'iruing’s work had all
been accomplished, milk pans and pails
were out sunning, kettle and frying pan in
their places; the fresh baked loaves, such
an even brown, were cooling on the mould-
ing board, two custard pies done to a turn,
apan of doughnuts stood by, every one
golden, and swollen outof all proportion,
and also a tin of delicious molasses cake,
and Betty was just putting a roast of mut-
ton into the oven; a basket of peas sat on a
chair, waiting to be shelled, and a pan Of
new potatoes were nicely scraped and
covered with water. The coffee had been
kept on the back of the range, and it was
the work of a moment to toast a slice of
bread which, nicely buttered, was set down
by theZside Of a saucer of red raspberries,
and Madam could hardly refrain from ex-
claiming, “ Why Betty, child, wherever
did you learn to be so handy.” It was
something surprising to sit there in the
pleasant dining-room eating a. dainty nine
O’clock breakfast, baby asleep, children at
school, baking done, dinner commenced
and planned, the click of the binder as it
rounded the ﬁeld Of golden grain, the
robins and blue birds rejoicing in a ﬂood
of melody, the ﬂowers blooming—sky
blue—it simply was Heaven, or else she
was dreaming—Haggard like. But Samuel
was overjoyed when noon found him at the
dinner table, his favorite roast mutton,
green peas and new potatoes, and custard
pie so near like that mother made, so spicy
with nutmeg. so golden with eggs, none of
your water and ﬂour affairs. and Madam
poured the tea, and scarcely looked care-
worn and tired. And the baby, bless his
heart, was tucked up in his high chair and
cooed and gurgled away, just as if he had
not made night hideous. And as it was
today, it was tomorrow; Betty became a
necessity. She skimmed the milk, churned
and patted the butter into globes that had
a higher commercial value than the greasy,
salvy stuff some people made. The bread
was always alike, her puddings were mar-
vels of skill, she went to the creek for
cress, she roamed the woods with the
children in quest of wild ﬂowers. scrubbed
their faces, smoothed their hair for the
table-t’was Betty here and Betty there.
When, after harvest, Samuel said to the
Madam, f‘Here’s ﬁfty dollars, get ready,
leave the baby with Betty; let’s go to the
800. or get some of those roses back to
your cheeks,” why! what did she do but
get the prettiest outﬁt she could ﬁnd, and
she and Samuel departed. They hadn’t
been off on such a trip since they took a
wedding trip twenty years before. And
when they had returned it was in October's
golden—and there wasa spring in Madam’s
Itepland alight in her eye most beautiful
tobehold. And the neighbors said it was
strange that Mrs. Blank should be so
lucky. And the Gabrielles and Geor-
giannas went on in careless ways, never

improving, but always wondering when
the domestic problem should be solved and

.n. -;_.‘____.._.._

should be. But give the work of G. into

 

their condition elevated. Ah! Betty has
never learned to paint on velvet, or make
worsted dogs and cats in crewel work, but
she knows what constitutes a perfect home
—well regulated, well balanced. Mottoes
on the wall won’t do it. Betty set her own
price and Samuel paid-it, not grudgingly
either, and sometimes of a moonlight
evening when they sit on the porch Samuel
says, “ I wish every house had such 3
Betty, wife;” and Betty, contented and
happy, murmurs toherself before dropping
to sleep, “I wish every home had such a

Madam.” EVANGELINE.

BATTLE CREEK.
-———...—_____.

WORK FOR THE CHILDREN.

 

I am constantly searching the HOUSE°
HOLD for some helpful suggestions, and
my search is ever rewarded with success,
as every number contains something well
worth reading. ”Arid if the ideas therein
expressed do not exactly coincide with our
own, it is nevertheless ahelp, for it helps us
tO form a more correct idea of the subjects.

In the HOUSEHOLD of April 19th Grand-
ma expresses a desire to hear from some
one in .eference to children’s help. As I
am the mother of ﬁve young‘ hopefuls I
feel that I am in a position to at least give
an idea on the subject, although it may be
worthless. As my two elde st are boys I
ﬁnd it quite necessary to depend upon
them for help, and while I do not advocate
the idea of giving a growintr child the
work Of an adult, my experience teaches
me that it is absolutely necessary for the
child’s moral welfare that he shall have a
share of the daily duties, otherwise selﬁsh-
ness would reign supreme. And I feel
sure that a painstaking mother can ﬁnd in
her work a niche, in which each child can
be placed, for which their nature and
strength peculiarly ﬁts them. For instance,
my son G. can set the table, make a cake,
wash and wipe dishes, and many things
of that kind, with almost the skill Of agirl;
while his elder brother 0. can hang a door,
repair a broken lock, drive a nail just as it

the hands of 0., dishes in his strong hands
would clash together, the cake batter would
lacspatter the kitchen ﬂoor, the dish towel
would hang around his neck “to have it
handy,” the bread would slide from the
plate to the ﬂoor on the way to the table;
and with nerves all unsttung you would
mentally resolve never to ask that boy to
do another thing about the house. Next
day, when you particularly wish some re-
pairing and he is away, ask G. to attend to
it, and he looks at it in dismay; not wishing
to be outdone by his brother, he goes to
Work, but is compelled to step back and say,
“ Wait until brother comes.” No two can
be trained alike. I began with a deter-
mination to teach my boys housework, or
at least some portions, but ﬁnd that it is
like “ turning a bull loose in a china shop ”
to set 0. at housework, but he has his
niche, which he ﬁlls with credit.

I wish that some of the mothers who
readthe HousEHOLD would give some sug-
gestions for keeping boys home evenings.

 

As we live but a few steps from Main ..

m

 

Street, I ﬁnd that my boys are “ prone to;
wander” soon after tea,’-' and while I do

not wish to be severe, I feel that I can
not always keep them at home. An interest-
ing book to be read aloud evenings is ex-

cellent, but even that proves insufficient at

times, and they do not care for games.
MRS. D. S E.

——ooo———
REMEDY FOR SORE THROAT.
A bad cold, taken mysteriously during
one Of our sudden changes of temperature,

was quite obstinate about yielding to treat»

ment, and left me at last with a very sore
throat—swollen tonsils and great difﬁculty

in swallowing. I took several remedies-

and made applications of hot and cold

water, all to no purpose, and began to

think Ishould have to send for a doctor
and face the attendant bill. Finally I re-
membered seeing in the HOUSEHOLD, some
months ago, pineapple juice recommended
for diphtheria and sore throat. I tried it
and found it a most effective and remark-
ably pleasant remedy. The pineapple was

sliced, enough sugar added to make it-

palatable, suffered to stand several hours,

then the juice eaten freely. A few Of the»

thin slices were also eaten, after the dif-
ﬁculty in swallowing had been somewhat
relieved. The next day my throat was no
longer painful, though the inﬂammation
had not entirely disappeared, but by even-
ing it was as well as ever. I am glad to;
give testimony as to the efﬁcacy of so

simple a remedy, which is much easier

to give to children than sulphur blown in
the throat, etc., and which is so harmless
in its working. I think many Of the violent
applications made for sore throat leave the
throat and voice seriously impaired.

DETROIT. L. C.
——.O.-_

THE FAMILY MEDICINE CHEST.

 

In every household there should be a
medicine case, or a small closet devoted to
that especial use. It may be large or
small; well ﬁlled, or supplied only with a
few of the most commonly used domestic
remedies. as circumstances ‘permit. A
case or closet which will answer every
purpose of a more expensive one, may be
made of a smooth wooden box of the proper
size, such as may be obtained of any drug--
gist or grocer.

Fasten its cover in such a manner, by
tiny hinges, that when the box is placed
on end it will form a door. With one or»
more shelves secured to the inside it is
complete, with the exception Of a lock and
key, which should be added where there
are small children in the family. It may
be stained or painted according to fancy.
Place upon a shelf in a convenient location
and it is ready to be ﬁlled.

It should contain a bottle of tincture Of
arnica, one of spirits of camphor, one of
essence of peppermint, (which by the way
is very soothing to aburn or scald), one-
each of glycerine, witch hazel and am-
monia; a small vial of aconite to be used
in case of fever, and some quinine capsules
for malaria, are also. important. To these-

should be added a box of vaseline, a roll of

 

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THE HOUSEHOLD. 3

 

 

 

soft old cotton cloth, with a ball of soft
string; adhesive plaster, and the more
commonly used courtplaster; also a quanti-
ty of powdered slippery elm for poultices;
which can be obtained at very slight cost at
the .druggists. Some further additions
should be a bottle of reliable toothache
drops, powdered alum, in case of croup, to
be mixed with molasses, and a bottle of
some good reliable liniment for sprains, etc.
These remedies should each be very
plainly labeled that no mistake may occur
in their use. Neglect of this precaution
has sometimes resulted very disastrously.
Nearly every house mother is familiar with
the useful properties of the medicines here
mentioned. The list may ba added to at
pleasure. Very likely many persons would
assign a prominent position to “Dr. So.
and-So’s Famous Vegetable Pills,” but
with proper attention to food and habits,
cathartics are rarely necessary; and their
use is to be avoided as far as possible, as
the habit once formed must be kept up in.
deﬁnitely. ELLA R. WOOD.

FLINT.
—.—...__—.

TEE SCRAP J AR'S AU I‘OBIOGR APHY ’-

 

I heard my mistress read an article the
other day about the family “scrap jar,”
and as I have the honor to occupy that
position myself I thought an autobiography
might be of interest to the readers of the
HOUSEHOLD.

Although I am nothing but an Old crock
with a small understanding, alarge mouth,
and quite prominent ears, I was given to a
young housekeeper by one of her relatives
in the State of New York, with the re-
mark—how well I remember it-+-that
t‘ Every little helps when you are just
commencing.” After a few years’ resi-
dence,in that State-I was loaded with their
other effects, not forgetting the baby, and
started for the then wilds of Michigan,
where we arrived after a journey of many-
days’ duration. Then, sad to relate (it al
most makes me shed tears to think of it) I

v

_ became the family dye-pot, and was glad

to hide ‘ my unsavory head behind the
woodpile, and even then I would feel
humilated by hearing, some stranger re-
mark “ What in the name of heaven is that
vile smell in your back yard? ” But life
had some compensations even for me, and
I was 'often gratiﬁed in those early days by
hearing my overtaxed mistress say, “What-
ever would I do without the dye-pot to
make a stain of some kind and lessen the
washing?”

Then all was changed and I was thor-
oughly scrubbed and made-a receptacle for
soft soap; that was comforting, for I might
at least feel clean. My mistress then be-
came Old and sibk and worn with disease,
and I seldom saw her, but younger hands
to whom I was nothing but the old crock,
would pick me up and set me here or
there, and Ioften trembled for my poor old
battered sides, until one day as I stood by
the leach feeling so forlorn, my dear old
mistress was carried away never to return;
and how glad I was that it rained and I
might-shed all the tears I wanted to with-
out question, only wondering what Would

 

next befall me. I was truly surprised one
day to have the man whom I had accom-
panied as a baby come and pick me up
reverently, Set me in his buggy and carry
me to his home, where it seems I am to re-
main as an honored guest, for I have been
scrubbed and painted without and within,
decorated with picturt s, and varnished,
and set in the sitting I'( om; and only the
other day I heard it suggested that a rib-
bon be tied around my neck, and I be put
in the parlor, lest.being so feeble the baby
should break my neck—not his—by falling
over me. TIIE SCRAP JAR.
HOWELL.

 

NOTES ON BACK NUMBERS.

Oh yes, I’m quite well acquainted with
A. L. L.’s neighbor, the managing woman
who wants to run the world and all that
therein is. I think we all know her, in
some of her various phases. There is only
one passport to her favor, and that a
willingness to give up to her domineering
ways and help carry out her plans: The
managing woman is a nuisance in the
family. She plans; but she requires others
to execute her plans; she ﬁlls the ﬁre full Of
t'e proverbial irons and demands others
shall burn their ﬁngers getting them out;
she begins a dozen different kinds of work
and requires her household, nolens zrolens,
to take hold and ﬁnish; then she congratu-
lates herself on the amount of work she can
accomplish, forgetting to give credit to her
coadjutors. In society she has a positive
genius for planning entertainments in
which the silent ones will do the work and
she get the glory. She’ll “work,” like
Mrs. Veneering in Our Mutual Friend,
with a great bustle and fuss which de-
ceive most people. We are apt to forget
it is the empty wagon that rattles, while
the one that is carrying the load moves
silently and quietly. She wants to do the
thinking for all her acquaintances, and it
is heresy and schism to differ with her.
She’ll teach a Frenchman his mother
tongue, give a minister points on theology,
show an editor how she’d run his paper,
and be all the time so fatuously self-satis-
ﬁed, so blissfully unconscious that she
doesn’t know all there is on earth that’s
worth knowing, that it would be little
short of murder in the ﬁrst degree to un-
deceive her. Oh yes. I know her—but I
wish I didn’t.

WHO could help smiling at Daﬁodilly’s
energetic assaults upon dirty people in the
HOUSEHOLD of March 22nd! Yet, how
pungently true her words! I too have
known good Christians who made the beds
immediately after breakfast “ because they
were warmer then,” and never thought of
opening a bedroom window while there
was frost in the ground. There are
hundreds of people, very respectable in
other ways, who never consider it neces-
sary to bathe further than the outlying
regions of neck, face and t ands visible to
the public. I heard of a sixteen year old
girl, daughter of a prosperous farmer, who
said she could not remember ever having
washed herself all over, and I ‘no lenger
wondered at the, malignant little pimples

 

    

O‘n'he—r face that she was always doctor-ing.
It was nature’s last forlorn effort to throw
off the impurities prisoned under clogged
pores, which found exit through those of
the more frequently washed face. Then
there is the dreadful odor of clothing worn
day after day without airing, thrown off
in a heap at night, ina close room, and
put on again without even a shake. Such
an Oder is as easily named as white rose or
heliotrope; and it advertises the personai
cleanliness of the individual as nothing
else can. Elderly people who stay much
in the house, seldom or never bathe, and
wear the same clothing day after day, are
Often repugnant to younger and more
fastidious people for no other reason than
this. It doesn’t cost a cent to hang clothing
and bedclothes on the line for a good air‘
ing; and sun and wind are powerful agents
in sweetening articles which cannot well be
washed. And in cities at least, there’s no
excuse for the poverty that goes dirty for
want of water, for the supply is constant
and in every house, to be had by turning a
faucet. But somehow, the small boy’s
antipathy to soap and water seems tobe
shared by a good many grown up men
and women.

 

To smite or not to smite, it seems to me-
is a point which every conscientious mother
must decide for herself by study of her
children‘s dispositions and temperaments.
There are sensitive, shrinking children who
would be humiliated beyond expression
by blows; there are resentful natures that '
would be hardened into callous indiffer-
ence; heedless, impetuous ones who act
ﬁrst and think afterward, who are best
managed by being deprived of some
pleasure or treat as punishment—«as soon.
as the pain of the stripes is over they are as
careless as ever; and there are others who,
as “ Grandpa” says, need ﬁrmer discipline-
than appeals to the emotional nature.
There are ﬂagrant transgressions that must
be dealt with more vigorously, as the laws
for the government of nations, while allow-
ing perfect personal freedom, take cogni-
zance of offenses punishable with loss of-
life or liberty. There is too adanger in
the constant excitation of the emotions;
that side of the child-nature becomes
inured to such appeals and they lose
their power; we see the truth of this in the
indifferenc . to remonstrances and entreaties
manifested by the half~grown children of
mothers who have ruled by appeals to the
emotional nature alone. The problem of
family government is something every
mother must think'out for herself. Be~
yond certain broad principles, common to
all human nature, rules are ineffectual.
Too much government is almost as bad as
none at all. Hedge a human being about
with restrictions, attempt to do everything
in the world for him—~even his thinking—-
and he will revolt as certain as the sun-
shines. Two broad precepts may be laid
down. Don’t threaten. Don‘t say "‘I’ll
whip you if you do that again” unless
you mean it and do it if the offense is re
peated. Keep your word to your children.
Government is greatly simpliﬁed if your'
children know you mean what you say and:

    

 


  

 

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4' ‘ THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

will enforce your words, and that is the
method by which the habit of obedience
is formed. Secondly, never whip a child
until you have patiently investigated his
case and know he deserves it. One un-
deserved, unjust punishment will undo the
work of years through alienating love and
destroying conﬁdence. Children need to
have the utmost faith in parental justice.
And make a note of one further fact: If
you have erred in your training and ﬁnd
your boys and girls beyond your control
at twelve or fourteen, do not imagine “ a
good sound whipping”——scene the wood
shed, medium a trunkstrap—will do them
good and retrieve the mistakes. It will not
do it. The eternal irrevocableness of the
past is nowhere made more manifest than

in the unwise management of children.
BE A'BBIX.

THE DISTRICT SCHOOL.

As they say, the spirit moves me to speak
in behalf of the district school. The ques-
tion was asked same time since in what
way women may beneﬁt the district school.
I think if parents ( more especially mothers,
as it usually depends on the mother’s say
so whether children at tend school regularly
or not), would m kc it their business to
visit the school at. hast once each term, they
might ﬁnd the school of a much higher
standard than they anticipated. Since
hoarding around is done away with, I am
sorry to say that often a teacher is hired,
goes through a term and is gone, and per.
haps is never seen by half the parentsof the
children who attend school. This ought
not to be so.

On meeting a boy of nine or ten years

I very naturally asked the question,
“ Johnny, do you attend school? " “ Nop;
don'tliketheteacher," was the quick re:
ﬂy- Parents should visit the school and
me for themselves, and not trust too much
‘lo Johnny’s and Mary’s tales. We can
hand a horse to the water trough, buf'we.
cannot force him to drink. We can send
our children to school; it is the best we can
do. If we allow them to stay out of
school for every little cause of complaint,
either fancied or real, the fault is ours, and
harms our children far more than the
teacher, who serves her term, receives her
pay and goes, no doubt happy in the
thought that she had a much pleasanter
school than if all the rude boys had been
in attendance, while they are spending
precious time in idleness, proving the old
adage true that “ Satan always ﬁnds some
mischief for idle hands to do.” In nine
uses out of ten those are the hardest pupils
inhe school to control who are allowed
to stay out because they do not like the
teacher.

Children sometimes complain of strict-
ness and the like, when if the parents were
to visit the school they might see-~if not
blinded by prejudice—that it was nothing
more than a healthy discipline, with a per-
sistent effort of the teacher to have the
children advance in their studies, or that
study instead of play is required. We all
know that any school without order is just
no school at all.

not welcome in the HOUSEHOLD, but I am
a reader of the HOUSEHOLD and cannot re-
member ever seeing anything to that effect.
How is it, ladies? NIX.

[All are welcome, without distinction as
to sex. There is plenty of room for men
and women with ideas—E11]

 

POMPS AND VANITIES.

 

If you see a small girl, say from three to
six years of age, clothed entirely in black,
don’t expend any sympathy upon her sup-
posed orphaned condition. She’s only a
victim to the latest fashionable fad. A
little three year old, dressed in a black silk
cloak, full skirt gathered to a plain waist,
with full sleeves ending in adeep cuff—-
and wearing a broad black hat ornamented
with two large rosettes—the milliners call
them chioux, which is “ Frenchier” than
“ rosettes ”—-of narrow white ribbon, took
up a good deal of room on the Avenue the
other day, Utterly absorbed in a tiny blue
parasol, a new purchase, which she insisted
on carrying upside down so she could see it,
she took the middle of the walk, while her
mother and aunt watched her delightedly
from the outer edge of the pavement, and
many were the smiles el’cited by the quaint
littl: ﬁgure with its sweet baby face and
air of absolute unconcern. Another, a
larger girl, wore a cloak of the same ma-
terial, and a close black satin bonnet,
which recalled memories of my grand-
mother’s Sunday-go-to-meeting one. It had
a full ruche like a cap‘border for face
trimming, and a black rosette on top. The
satin was stretched on perfectly plain, and
the bonnet entirely covered the head.
Satin, rhadame, or peau de soie, almost any
silk hut grosgrein, which is too dull and
lustreless, could be employed. No trim-
ming is put upon the cloak.

Drap d’ete, a goods much worn some
twenty-ﬁve years ago, and which was re-
introduced last year for general wear,
though it has always been standard for
mourning wear, is now brought on in
colors, and light enough in weight for
summer use.

Graduating dresses for the June com-
mencements are of white China silk, wool
crepe, nuns’ veiling, or embroidered nain-
sock. They have high full waists, which
a new whim declares must be fastened be-
hind, large sleeves and straight full skirts.
The idea is to have them as simple and
girlish-looking as possible. The skirt has
six breadths, unlined, a six-inch hem, and
is shirred and sewed permanently to the
waist. Under this is worn a skirt of stiff
Victoria lawn, lace edged; this has a
separate belt, but is also attached to the
dress waist. A pretty bodice has all the
material pleated to a short point front and
back, and the fullness carried up to the
neck, where it is ﬁnished with a stand
ing ruﬁie of the goods made by turning it
over double and shirring it in shape. If
trimming is wanted upon these plain
dresses, it is grosgrain or satin ribbon to
match, of which are made shoulder-knots,

 

A friend tells me the male persuasion are

‘bands of ribbon around the sleeves. And

a girdle with loops and ends, and two

the girls can please themselves, they can
wear white undressed kid gloves and slip-.
pers with white hose, light tan suede gloves
and slippers, or black kid slippers and
black stockings.

 

BIRMINGHAM .

I have been a resident here about eight
weeks and my impressions are necessarily
subject to revision. It isa village corpora-
tion one mile square, situated on the
eastern line of the township of Bloomﬁeld,
Oakland County. They claim 1,000 in-
habitants and are conﬁdent the approach-
ing census will verify the claim. There
are several dry goods, grocery and hard-
ware stores, bakeries and meat markets,
millinery and furnishing goods houses.
There are thrte churches, a ﬁne graded
school, and pipes are now distributed for a
system of Water supply of the most abun-
dant and best water in the State. There is
also a ﬂouting ‘mill; wagon and harness
shops; in short there seems to be a supply
for all the usual physical, mental, moral,
religious and social wants of the residents.

There seems to be a great preponderance
of middle-aged and elderly people; many
being farmers who having labored‘ hard in
earlier years, are now passing the later
years of life in a community where social
and genial society is more easily found
than on isolated farms.

friendly deeds. To a stranger they turn
with kindly greetings, and by their
attentions chase away the spectre of loneli-
ness. This is accomplished in such
unaﬁected, hearty manner, no doubt of its
genuineness can ﬁnd room. We look for-
ward to a happy time in our new home.
Last, by no means least, as one of the in-
stitutions of the place we mention the live
newspaper published here; the Eccentric; a
bright, newsy epitome of the local hap-

penings and general intelligence.
MsrLsrnonrn. A. L. L.
—————-Qoo-—-—-—

Mas. M. A. FULLER sends the following
remedy for chillblains: ”Laudanum, one
part; acetate of lead, two parts, mix and
apply.” ‘

W

Useful Recipes.

 

Conn Mun Mourns—Two eggs rnd two
tablespor ntuls of sugar beaten mgr ther. Add
one and a h-i'f tsacupfu's of sweet milk—wa-
ter may be neat instead ~hatf a t aspoonl‘ul
salt: one cup 0 )rnmeal; two cups ﬂour arm
with two heaping tearpoont‘uls bakix gpowder.
and lastly one tablespocnful melted butter.
Try these; you will ﬁnd them goal.

 

RICE Wanna—One quart milk: one cup
ho ltd rice; one and a half pints ﬂ0al'; tea-
spconful salt; th es eggs. well beaten; two
tabla spoonfuls melted butttr. Beat thcmugh-
ly and bike in waffle irons.

Conrrsn Bums—Pol: up the ﬁsh, careiu 1y
remoti' g every bit or hrne. Bo 1 ts eoty min-
utes, drain, and spread upon a dish to cool.
Adi an equal bu kof masheipotato, a to ten
(88. a lump or butter and a little rich milk.
Flour your hands, form into ﬂat cakes and

 

fry in dr‘pplng to a light brown.

 

 

 

They are a kindly people, given to ,

‘ .

titsyzimwsmmg’g‘éggﬁ t 2:; ‘5; , .1 . p ,

.1

      
       
    
   
 
     
   
  
   
    
   
   
 
  
  
  
   
    
  
   
  
   
  
  
   
  
  
   
  
   
    
   
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
    
  
   
  
   
  
  
   
   
   
  
  
   
  
  
   
  
    
 
  
   
  
  
  
   
   

  

  

