
 

DETROIT, OCT. 17, 1891.

 

 

THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

WITH CLEABER VISION.

 

I saw to-night the man I loved
Three little years ago:

I did not think so short a time
Could change a mortal so!

There were none like him in those days—
80 strong. so true. so wise;

He had a lofty marble brow.
And tender. soulful eyes,

A voice of music; hair by which
The raven’s wing would seem
But pale indeed: a face and form
To haunt a sculptor's dream.

But when I looked at him to-night
I saw no single trace

Of the old glory; only just
A very common face.

No marble brow. no soul-lit orbs;
The face was round and sleek,
That once to my love-haunted eyes

Was so intensely Greek.

I know full well he has not changed
80 very much. Ah. me!

But I was blind in those dear days.
And now. alas! I see.

’I‘is very dreadful to be blind.
Of course. and yet tonight

I should be happier far if I
Had not received my sight.

0 3e little thought will bother me—
I only wish I knew
Whether he still is blind. or if
His eyes are open. too.
— Carlotta Perry.
——-—-—-...-—-
Foolish misses
Give their kisses
In a free and easy way;
And they wonder,
Think and ponder,
As to why they single stay.
But wise misses
Keep their kisses
Till they have upon their hand
His sweet. pleasant
Diamond present
In a solid golden band.

W
Q

THE END AND THE MEANS.

 

“Grandpa” appears to believe the
maxim “The end justiﬁes the means”
is a very good rule for our moral guid-
nce, an opinion from which many,
myself among the number,,will streng-
ly dissent. This saying has been
quoted in excuse of wrong, injustice
and oppression for centuries. It has
been the refuge of the unscrupulous,
the apology of the unprincipled. It is
the Shibboleth of the conspirator the
world over; and a most dangerous
moral SOphlStl'y. The inexorable
“Thou shalt” and “Thou shalt not”
are carved into the very nature of
things; the laws for a wise and good

 

life are built upon a foundation deeper
than casuistry or sophistical reasoning,
and those laws alter not. No end can
justify wrong doing—falsehood, theft,
treachery, injustice, misrepresentation,
cannot be the accomplices of a worthy
end; nor can such means he used with-
out harm to our moral selves and
damage to our cause. A man steals a
loaf of bread for his starving family, the
act is not justiﬁable but is excusable.
It is a legal axiom that a man’s per-
suasion that a thing is duty will not ex-
cuse him from guilt if it is against the
law. Another man gambles or sells
liquor and supports his family by his
earnings. It is his duty to maintain
them, but the means savor of the
wages of sin.

When we consider the means we
purpose using to accomplish the end
we have in view, we are invariably and
inevitably prejudiced by our desires
and preferences. Sin appears much
more terrible to those who look at it
than to those Who do it. Our wishes
blind us. What we want to do becomes
to us by and by the proper and the
right thing to do, because we con-
sider it so entirely from our individual
standpoint. The end presently appears
so laudable, so desirable, so necessary,
that we think all considerations of
right or justice, all established laws
should be waived to attain it. The
miller built the church with stolen
grain. The church building was as
solid and substantial as if honest money
put it up. but what about the miller’s
moral responsibility“? \Vas or was not
the offering acceptable in the sight of a
God who expressly declares “Thou
shalt not steal?" lVas it not making
Him the recipient of stolen goods? And
if lightning should strike and the ﬂames
consume the building, wouldn’t we
somehow recognize the “ﬁtness of
things” and superstitiously regard the
stroke as Heaven-directed?

An intemperate man pawns his baby's
shoes and spends the money for liquor
which intoxicates him and in that con-
dition he meets with an accident that
causes his death. The money he passed
over the counter will buy ,as nourish-
ing food and as much of it as the
brightest coin fresh from the mint.
There is no sentiment about money; a
dollar is a hundred cents the world
over. Yet, after all, isn't there auif—

 

ference? A difference we feel, but
hardly ﬁnd words to express. There
is, after all, such a thing as clean
money.

Instead of letting the maxim pass into
a moving impulse of our lives, it should
be rather kept in reserve to beacted
upon after careful deliberation and
earnest thought have convinced us
that the means are not such as
will injure us or others morall v, ﬁnan-
cially or physically; or can be made a
reproach to us when our end is attained.
Men not infrequently use unworthy,
even despicable means to secure their
elevation, to gain power they mean to
use wisely, a place where they may do
goodg But they are despised for stoop-
ing to such means,and suspicion attaches
to all their deeds ever after; they are
never esteemed and respected as are
those who gain by honorable means and
are not “ shady” 1n reputation. Oh no!
“The 'end justiﬁes the means,” like-
many another ancient saw, must be
taken cum grant) salis, and rarely
put in practice. It stands the test of
truth and conscience rather as an ex-
ception, an occasional occurrence, than.
as a rule for action. The means must
be justiﬁable; then, and then only,
may they be safely and honorably em.
ployed. BEATRIX.

M..—

NO POCKET.

 

I usually submit to the decrees of"
fashion, if not with grace at least with
proper resignation, but when the ﬁckle»
goddess robs us of the one skirt pocket,
to which we were clinging like a drown-
ing man to a straw, I rebel. A man
can and does have from twelve to six-
teen pockets in every suit, but all the
receptacle that is left to a woman is
her watch pocket and that is often so
inconveniently placed that she does not
consult her watch, even though she is
anxious to know of the ﬂight of time.
I know some ladies who do not keep
their watches wound because it is so
much trouble to get at them for use
that they are worn solely for ornament.

With the present fashions a woman
needs to be like one of the heathen
gods of which we have all seen pictures,
with four arms and hands on each side.
When she walks to church these fair
mornings she must carry her long,
trailing skirt with one hand and her
large silk umbrella spread with the

. -30.; v menu-r

.,.i.. M A...

 


 

2 The Household.

 

other, then where, pray you, are the
hands to carry her fan, Bible and
quarterly for Sunday school, the case
for her glasses, handkerchief, and the
ever-needed purse for the church and
Sunday School collections? I have
vainly sought to solve the problem. The
handkerchief can be tucked under the
basque, making an unsightly little
bulge on one side, and with great risk
of losing the same, and the money can
go inside the glove of the left hand, so
that the cordial handshaker may not
discover your poor subterfuge, but woe
to you if the minister calls for an
extra collection for the heathen. I

sometimes wonder if they suffer more.

without clothes than we do without
pockets, but after all, no pocket at all is
about as well as those so far in the
rear of the skirt that one was always in
danger of crushing the contents, and
was obliged to go through very un-
graceful and sometimes unsuccessful
contortions when sitting in church and
seeing the collection box coming nearer,
while her most frantic efforts failed
to make connection with the right
plait that would lead to the mysterious
ly hidden pocket. The ever present
“ bag” goes with us on week days, but
would not be permissible on Sundays,
and it really seems to me that we were
never before such slaves to fashion. A
man with the lack of knowledge of
feminine attire for which they are
noted, said the other day: “Well, if I
wanted apocket I’d have one if other
ladies didn’t.” Poor man, he didn’t
know, as we do, that there is no place
for one; and the case is hopeless until
some plait or gather, or tuck, or frill
is allowed, unless the highly ornament-
ed patch-pocket of twelve or ﬁfteen
years ago should swoop down upon us;
but anything that will “ hold things”
will be welcomed by EL. SEE.
ROMEO.
WHAT I HEARD AT THE FAIR.

Well, well! How de do! Your folks
here? Yes, but I aint seen ’em since
noon; nice day, big crowd—It‘s ner-
fectly lovely—I don’t believe she made
that herself—Yes, it is pretty, but I’m
making One that’s a great deal nicer I
think-If there isn‘t Mary Dean!
Where did you come, where are you
going now?—-Oh, I want to see the
races. Isn’t it just shocking how these
country fairs are turning into horse
races, everybody’s talking about it. I
know it, but everybody goes; hurry or
we won’t get a good seat on the grand-
stand—Who were the judges any way?
I never saw anything like it, her tidy
wasn’t half as nice as mine. I heard
two or three say so, and she got the ﬁrst
premium, it’s the last time I’ll ever take
anything—A perfect daub don’t you
think? What a queer calf in the fore-
ground—Oh that’s a dog, so it is. Those
judges know nothing whateverabout
art, they wanted me to be judge, but I
guess not. I’ve enemies enough, and

 

 

    

 

you can’t please everyone—Dear me,
I’m so tired, I’ll be glad to get home;
where did Willie go I wonder—Did you
see the balloon go up? No, it was get-
ting so late we couldn’t wait any longer,
pa had all the chores to do, and—Same
old thing she had here last year; if I
couldn’t take something new, I wouldn’t
take anything—How are you, John, and
there’s Jane too; the fair always brings
you out, or is it the races? No indeed,
we think that’s all wrong—So do I.
Bring anything this year? No, we
never do, it’s too much trouble. Coming
tomorrow? I guess so, the children
want to come—I didn’t expect to get
any premiums, just brought it to help
ﬁll up, but I was a good deal more en-
titled to it than she was, if I do say it
myself, you could see the stitches in
hersamile away, not that I care, of
course, but—Seen anything of Johnny?
we want to go home now—What beauti-
ful ﬂowers, are these plants yours?
Mrs. Smith, this one is lovely. Yes
I’ll tell you how I got it, raised it from
a little bit of a slip that Mrs. Bean, she
that was Sadie Hunter, gave me, and—-
My! how that baby cries—Oh say!
gran’ma got the ﬁrst premium on her
quilt, how pleased she’ll be!—R1ght
this way for down town, going right
down—Did you see the bride—Pop corn!
Pop corn! ! Right here’s where you
get—There goes Mat Jones and her new
fellow; such airs! I don’t see anything
extraordinary about him, do you?
Hush, somebody—Oh we’ve been hav-
ing the jolliest time! Rode on the
merry-go-round, ate peaches, melons,
peanuts, taffy and popcorn till I’m just
sick, didn’t know a county fair was so-
much fun. When Iget back to the
city—Do see that fellow and his girl!
ain’t they killing?—-Very poor show of
stock, I think. Down in Ohio where I
come from—Right this way for down
town! last hack before dinner—Good by.
AUNT YORKE.

 

TRAVELING DOCTORS AND HOME
DOCTORS.

 

As I was working in the barn one
day, a man drove into the yard at a
brisk pace, and inquired if I was the
“man of the house.” I started to say
“Yes, when my wife will let me be,”
but as she was out in the dooryard,
and might hear what I said, I remarked
I was the “man of the barn." He
looked at me inquiringly and I didn’t
just know whether he was estimating
my height, or was admiring my
clothes. I thought it might be my hat
that took his eye; it was a good twenty-
cent straw when I bought it in the
early spring-time, but constant wear in
sun and dust, with an occasional en-
c0unter with a thunderstorm and
several battles with bumble-bees, in
which the hat was ﬂying artillery, to-
gether with its regular daily thumping
at milking time from old Brin’s tail,
had made it look sad and friendless; its

 

rim drooped, its crown was giving
out and I couldn’t blame the stranger
for questioning in his mind whether
I was a “ﬁxture” of the farm or not.
Well, he introduced himself by saying
he was a doctor, located for a short
time in our neighboring village, but
was formerly from Buffalo (and I won-
dered if he wasn’t a relative of Buffalo
Bill’s, maybe a cousin, or perhaps Bill’s
wife’s cousin, at least); that he was
curing all the folks the other doctors
had left, especially chronic cases; that
he was out now looking for chronics;
then he asked if my family had any ail-
ments. I told him I guessed we had
about our share of poor health; at least
we managed to do our share of the
grunting. I asked him if he could
cure bad hearing: he said he could.
I told him my wife’s hearing was poor
at times; at least quite often when I
yelled to have her come and help me
or bring something from the house
I’d forgotten, she didn’t seem to hear.
He said—at least I understood him to
say—that he could tell what ailed a
woman by simply looking at her tongue.
That I suppose is one of the marvels of
science. Now I can’t tell by looking at
the tongue, but let me listen a spell——
short spell even—to its music, and I can
usually give quite a good diagnosis of
what’s the matter. But I said I’d go in
and see if my wife would have her
hearing ﬁxed. but when I talked with
her she said No, she’d no faith in
traveling doctors, and as I saw it was
of no use to argue the question, I had
to let him go off, after he’d come all the
way from Buffalo. He asked if there‘d
been any other traveling doctors
around. I said “Yes, several.” He was
well dressed, drove a good horse and
carriage; had a weed on his hat, in-
dicating, I suppose, that he’d lost his
family, or I thought perhaps they‘d
lost him.

He offered to doctor us all up, make
us sound as a brick, then wait a year
for his pay. It seemed most too had
not to give him a job, especially as he
doctored with herbs and roots, and if
he didn’t do any good, probably
wouldn’t do much hurt. But I let him.
go, for I’ve heard it said if a man wants
to prosper he should listen to his wife;
but what a responsibility that puts on
the wife! I think the husband ought
to carry a part of the responsibility—at
least a third—and so I don't always
“listenz” probably don’t "hear to" my
wife any better than she does to me
when I yell from the barn for her to
bring some article I may need.

I do some doctoring myself now and
then. My great remedy for ills is
boneset. I have prescribed it for a
bald head and a gumboil on the foot,
and I never knew it to do any harm.
When one feels bilious and blue, and
his disposition seems to become
vinegarified there's nothing so helpful
as a good swig of boneset.

I had such good success with it thaJ

 
   

.i._»_.‘L Aha»: (an


The Household.

8

 

i thought I’d branch out a little and
perhaps extend my practice; so I dug a
lot of roots, gathered herbs, steeped
"them up and got a good strong syrup,
about the consistency and color of
blackstrap molasses. I wanted to make
it easy for my patients, so mixed a lot
«of dough, working in the liquid, and
thought I’d make it into pills. I got
them rolled out nicely, and dried ’em
on a shingle by the stove. I found I’d
got ’em so big no human being could
swallow one without chewing it up, and
that wasn’t the way to take pills! My
wife began to laugh at my pills,_ and I
couldn’t blame her, for they were about
the size of small potatoes. (I’m natur-
ally generous—when I prepare medi«
cine or advice for others to take.) She
suggested that I could use them to cure
the horses and cattle, or I could feed
’em tothe hogs, but I wouldn’t, for I
believe in being kind to all dumb
brutes. So I let the pills stay in the
house for a year or so '(and during all
that time no one seemed to get sick),
'then threw them away, and since that
time I never go beyond boneset. :I’ve
got some gathered for next spring,
when I expect it‘ll be needed.

But about the traveling doctor. If he
stays around here till spring (and I
guess he will, if his family doesn’t ﬁnd
out where he isi I think I’ll have him
ﬁx up a good strong dose of his herb
tea for my wife to take just before that
terrible spring fever comes on, and see
if we can’t live peacefully through the
spring and not have the house ransack-
ed and torn to pieces for two or three
weeks. THEOPOLUS.

-———...—_
JOHN G. SAXE, AND OTHERS.

I am SOmewhat perplexed and I con-
fess not a little annoyed at much that I
have read of late upon the ever-present
woman question. First came John G.
Saxe, who deplores the literary woman
and magniﬁes the housekeeper in this
wise.

“But who among them (save perhaps myself)

Returning home, but neKs his wife

What beef—not books—she has upon the
shelf."

Again:
“ A very man—with something of the brute, '-

With passions strpng and appetite to boot.
And apt to take his temper from his dinner.”

A sad comment upon man. Then
Zekel Brown, in poetry also, bewailing
his sad lot in having a wife whom he
deems over neat and who discourses
upon the possible future thus:

" O’ershadowed Heaven itself will be,
Engulfed in awful gloom,
When my Keturah enters in
And cannot use a broom."

Next came a paper read before a
farmers’ club upon "The possibilities
within reach of American women and
their incapacity for business.” Again,
the comments of business men upon the
inefﬁciency of girls as clerks, and an
article in a newspaper setting forth the
healthfulness and happiness of the
peasant women of Europe while doing
men’s work and deploring the de-

 

generacy of the times in not requiring
outdoor work of American women.
Then Beatrix’s sensible remarks upon
overworked nerves and the need of rest.
Lastly, an article in the Chautauquan en-
titled “ Working-women Versus VVork-
ing-men,” contrasting the sexes to the
disparagement of women. Do you
wonder that I am wrought up and must
relieve the pressure by “freeing my
mind?”

The enlarged opportunities women
now have for education and in business
affairs, have developed a different type
of woman from the olden time. They
are no longer from necessity children
grown tall, with no knowledge of the
world about them whether the world be
one of letters or of business; and what-
ever may be said of the failures of
women in business ventures or the in-
efﬁciency of girls as clerks, the ad-
vance women have made and are mak-
ing in all these directions is phenome-
nal. The boy is taught business
metho ds from his cradle up. The girl’s
training is in an entirely different direc-
tion. Still it is expected that she will
step into a clerkship or a business
venture and be as successful as be.
After all this training, men are con-
stantly investing their all in some busi-
ness to which they are not adapted or
have no practical knowledge, and
failures are the result. This is so com-
mon that it ceases to attract attention
or comment, nor is it charged to the
incompetence of the sex. On the other
hand, if one woman fails the whole sex
is condemned as incompetent and un-
reliable. If a girl fails to fulﬁll her
whole duty as a clerk, every girl so em-
ployed is made to bear the stigma of
her 'unfaithfulness. Not so with boys.
The one who errs is the only one cen-
sured. The whole class do not suffer
either directly or indirectly through
his wrong doing. This wholesale con-
demnation of a class for the mistakes or
sins of one is not only unjust and un-
christian, but blocks the way of many a
struggling girl to a competence or an
honest livelihood. This double standard
of judging is the outgrowth of the past.
We are slowly outgrowing the old
time notion that every woman was
born a shrew and every man a martyr.
We are learning that ill-temper and
curiosity—or gossip—are as much mas-
culine as feminine vices, and we will
yet learn that incompetency and un-
faithfulness are not conﬁned to women
in business matters.

The suffragist who cast suspicion
upon the office girl only proved that al-
though more progressive than the
average woman she had not wholly out-
grown the prejudices of the past. There
are any number of girls in all employ-
ments who are proving most efﬁcient
and reliable, and who have won the
complete conﬁdence of their employers,
albeit they do not receive the wages
paid to men. and we know women who
have struggled up through great dis-

 

couragement to a flourishing business
and are in places of trust, and not one
defaulter among them.

In due process of time we shall know
that ignorance is not a pre-requisite to
good housekeeping, and it is more im-
portant for children to have an edu«
cated mother than an educated father.
Let us be just and not add to the bur-
dens—already too heavy—which every
working woman is bearing by unkind
criticism or indiscrimate condemnation.

IONIA. LILLA LEE.

FARM LIFE.

Beatrix says “ Come early and avoid
the rush.” I have been waiting for the
rush to be over. And listening, but
vainly, for the sound of Brue’s wed-
ding bells. Tell us about it, can’t you,
Brue‘? Keturah, I owe you an apology.
If it is not too late accept my heartiest
congratulations. What did I ask after
you for? Why, because I missed you,
of course?

I think Daffodilly must have visited
among the “ Way-backs," as my brother
calls the country greenhorns we see at
the county fairs and the circus. Cer-
tain it is they are not like the surround-
ing farming community. Here we
have all of the modern improvements,
out doors and in. I know one lady who
has only to step to a faucet in the cor-
ner of her kitchen to get water. It is
pumped with a windmill and forced to
the house through a pipe, and being
soft. serves all purposes. Another
lady has a reservoir in her kitchen
through which the water is constantly
running, keeping it fresh all the time.
She has also a hose running from the
cistern pump (also in the kitchen) to
the reservoir on the stove, and never has
to lift a pail of water. One son and
three daughters have graduated at the
High School and there are three sons
to follow. We have our cistern pump
in the kitchen and well in the wood
room. And when said well gives out
we never worry, for we know the men
will bring all of the water for us from
the other well. And though the wood-
room joins the kitchen our wood is all
brought in for us. Of course women on
a farm have to work hard through the
summer. But in this neighborhood we
have found time to attend a Literary
and Library Association held every
two weeks at the school house, the I. O.
G. T. and Farmers’ Alliance, and a
Glee Club, besides numerous socials.
We enjoy the sunset while we take in
the clothes, hoe in the flower garden
or pick strawberries. After all, it is
the individual and not the surroundings
that make people and society. For
instance, I know two families living
within speaking distance of each other.
One owns about two hundred acres, the
other only ten. The family on the ten
acres are bright and intelligent and up
with the times in everything, though
they keep a garden and all hands work
in it. The members of the other

 


 

4

The Household.

  

 

family never know about the current
topics of the day, never go anywhere,
and always do things the hardest way
and would be angry to be told a better
way. Ignorance begets egotism and
they are perfectly satisﬁed. No danger

of hurting their feelings. MAE.
FLINT.

——-...——-
WHITE EELLEBDRE FOR HOUSE-
PLANTS.

 

Aunt Philena wanted to know how to
get rid of small white worms in the
earth where her house plants are grow-
ing. I tried everything I heard of; at
last, after I lost some choice Begonias,
I tried white hellebore. Sprinkle it
on the earth around the plant, then
work it in slightly with an old fork
and water with warm water and the
little pests will be gone in a few days.
My plants are like my children; they
need my care and I love every one of
them, and watch each bud to see if it is
as pretty as the others were. Just now
1 have some tea roses coming into bud
nicely. I can hardly wait to see what
color they will be.

VASSAB. AUKT LOUISE.

 

SCRAPS .

 

NOW tubcroses are in blossom, I am
going to try an experiment. You know
how overpoweringly fragrant they are.
Well, 1 am going to put some Of the
ﬂowers in alcohol and try if I cannot
have some cheap perfume. Something
more fragrant than a rose-jar, which to
my uncultivated nose seems too much
like musty foliage with a ﬂavor of
baking days. I’m sure that somewhere
I’ve read the process I’ve outlined pro-
duced a fragrant alcohol. pleasant in
the room or for use in the bath.

I WAS reading recently about what
seemed to me a very beautiful charity
managed by a couple of young ladies in
New York city, and which appears to
be successful in a ﬁnancial way. The
two young ladies, one of whom is Vir-
ginia, daughter of Bishop Potter, of
New York, the other Miss Virginia
Furman, subscribed $2,600 stock and
started “The Children’s Dressmaking
Company,” and ﬁfteen working girls
form the “company.” They make
children’s dresses, coats, caps, and all
the dainty things little people wear,
after designs Miss Potter makes. They
are paid good wages, there are. no
ﬁnes, no fees, no rules, but the girls
are “upon honor” and work faithfully
and carefully for their employers’ ino
terests. At noon, dinner is served in
the dressmaking rooms; the girls them-
selves setting the tables. The meal is
sent in ready cooked from a Dairy
Kitchen, and its cost to each girl is al-
most nominal. At four o’clock they
have a cup Of tea and a little rest. They
are not hurried, but they “' do an awful
lot of work,” and have such good times
that the “campany” could be indeﬁ-

  

 

nitely enlarged if all applicants could
be received. There is a good demand
for the garments made, because Of
their beauty and ﬁtness and the ex-
cellence of the workmanship. and also
because the young ladies who are at
the head of the project carry with them
a social prestige and following which
secures custom for their wares. Yet it
is not “a fad” with them; they are in
earnest in their endeavor to do what
they can to help those who are not so
well off as themselves and to aid poor
girls by paying them fair wages for
their work. Those who buy are wealthy
and can afford to pay, and the work-
women get the beneﬁt. What a con-
trast to the rich women who screw the
wages of their sewing girls and laun-
dresses down to the very last cent pos-
sible that they may have more to spend
for showy dress and selﬁsh pleasures,
and whose Only charities are those
which are “to be seen of men! ”

 

“I’M nota very Old man but I feel
that I’m ‘losing my grip.’ ” These
were the words I heard a middle-aged
man utter the other day, as an excuse
for planning a partial giving up of his
business. A man of his age should be
really in the prime of life, strong,
vigorous in mind and body, in spite of
his ﬁfty odd years. In strong con-
trast with this premature acceptance
of old age, are the three actors who
appeared the closing days of last Feb-
ruary in one of this city’s opera houses,
Joseph Jefferson, William Florence and
Mrs. John Drew. Mrs. Drew is seventy-
one years old, yet as “ Mrs. Malaprop ”
in “ The Rivals ” she makes up and acts
like a woman Of forty years. Indeed, I
have seen many women not yet thirty-
ﬁve who had not Mrs. Drew’s grace,
nimbleness or sprightliness. And J ef-

ferson and Florence are both over sixtth

yet there are no signs Of decadence;
they are erect in person; there are
none of the quavers of old age in tone,
and though the wrinkles come and the
skin deadens, none of them seem to be
Old, as we speak of age. Now, let no
one think the secret of their virility is
because they have had “ asoft snap;” all
have spent their lives on the st age, and
atheatrical life is a hard, exhausting,
busy one. It is not all-capering upon
the stage before a delighted audience;
it means wearisome rehearsals, long
night journeys, irregular hours, things
the farmer may avoid if he pleases.

" He is not old whose eyes are bright.

‘ Whose bosom throbs, whose heart is light;
Though four-score be his years enrolle ,
If yet he lives. he is not old; _

O‘er him whose inmost thought is true,
The sky of winter seemeth blue,

For if a man have a heart of gold,
Though white his hair, he is not old.”

BEATR IX.

A WOMAN has invented a culinary
thermometer, with an index which
marks the scalding, boiling, “simmer-
ing,” etc.,point, and the correct tem-
perature for baking bread, cake, meat,
etc.

 

HOUSEHOLD HINTS.

 

THE American Garden gives dime--
tions for drying tomatoes: Scald and".
peel the tomatoes as for canning. Boil;
slowly in a porcelain kettle or stone jar
until the original quantity is reduced.
one-half. Then season them in the pro-»-
portion of a teaspoonful of salt and a
half a cupful of sugar to a gallon of
stewed tomatoes. Spread them om
plates and dry quickly without scorch-
ing. As the moisture dries away and
the stewed fruit loses shape, scrape up
so that both sides may dry, and let the.
contents of several plates, heaped up.
lightly, stand in bright sunshine a.
little while before putting away. Store
in bags and keep dry. When wanted
for use, soak them in a quantity of
water for several hours, or over night.
Stew in same water long and slowly—-
three or four hours—keeping boiling
water at hand to add if it grows thick,
and so is in danger Of burning. It
should be quite thin when done, and.
may be thickened with bread crumbs.
and seasoned.

\

 

AN “Interested Reader” wishes-
some of our correspondents would tell
her the proper treatment of begonias.
during winter; and which is the best
place to keep them, the cellar or the
sitting-room. She also asks Beatrix.
if Soapine is to be recommended for
washing colored ﬁannels as well as
white. Beatrix has had no experience
in washing colored goods with it, and
so cannot say.

 

Contributed Recipes.

 

CHOCOLATE CAKE NO. 1.—0ue cup of gran-
lated sugar; one-half cup of butter; one-half
cup of sweet milk; one and a half cups of
sifted ﬂour; whites of four eggs; one tea-
spoonful of baking powder; one teaspoonful.
of vanilla. Bake in three layers. Filling:
Melt one square of chocolate; add one tea-
cupful of sugar. When it will throw a hair
turn into the well beaten whites of two eggs;
stir until smooth. The top can be frosted
with white frosting and covered thick with
small chocolate creams.

 

CHOCOLATE CAKE No. 2.—Two-thirds of a
teacnpful of white sugar; one half a cupful
of butter; one-half cupful of swaet milk;
yolks of four eggs; one anda half cups of
sifted ﬂour; one and a half teaspoonfuls.
of baking powder; one-half teaspoonful of.
vanilla. Have one square of chocolate-
melted and stir into one-third of the batter,
with which mottle the remaining two-thirds.
Bake in a brick-shaped tin and frost with.
chocolate frosting.

 

CHOCOLATE CAKE NO. 3.-Two cups of
sugar; one-half cup of butter; one-cup of
sweet milk; two cups of ﬂour; two eggs;
two teaspoonfuls of baking powder; one'
fourth of a pound of chocolate melted;
vanilla. Bake in in a loaf; frost with white
frosting; trim the top with chocolate creams-

BATTLE CREEK. EVANGELINE.

 

 

