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DETROIT, DEC. 6, 1890.

 

 

THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

Wor the Household.
WALLS.

 

BY A. H. J.

in corners of the old rail-fence,
0n country roadside green.

sWe ﬁnd the children‘s play-houses.
With walls of rock between.

Here windows. here a door-way.
And their wardens seem to cry.

“ You come thus far—no farther:
Here our great possessions lie."

But o'er their broken ridges,
Pass words and laughter wild;

For light of heart makes light of law.
And child hath need of child.

Along life’s winding road-way,
Where sun and shadow blend,

Where pitfalls wait the headless,
And friend ﬁ-ids need of friend.

We sharply draw distinctions.
Our different lives between ;

With cruel blame and careless word.
We build up walls unseen.

“ Thus far." we say. “ no farther,"
The cold grey rocks are there;

Yet friend hath ever need of friend.
And all have need of prayer.

_____...————

HENRY M. STANLEY.

 

The distinguished African explorer,
Livingstone’s rescuer and successor, lectur-
ed in this city on the evening of Nov. 28th
before an audience which, at one, two and
three dollars per head, ﬁlled the Detroit
Rink, the largest auditorium in the city.
This was hardly to be wondered at, con-
sidering the fame of the lecturer and the
interest which centres on the notorious
“ rear column” and the charges and
counter-charges made in that connection.

It is a well known fact that we always
expect a person who has done something
remarkable to be also distinguished and
commanding in personal appearance; no
matter how often we are disappointed the
feeling still obtains. But those who ex-
pected to see in Stanley a personal presence
corresponding to his fame and his deeds,
were woefully disappointed. No one
would notice him in a crowd, his physique
and his reputation are misﬁts. He is un-
dersized, thin and haggard, slightly lame,
with a sickly complexion and white hair
and moustache, the result of the privations
and horrors encountered in African jungles.
He is a tired man, and the effort to deliver
a lecture of 90 minutes’ length is a serious
tax upon his vitality. He has a slight
accent, acquired probably by long un-
familiarity with the English and constant
use of foreign languages. He eluded, so
far as possible, the ubiquitous newspaper
man; and his wife, “ the beautiful Dorothy

 

Tennant” (who is after all only a comely
woman of 32, quite English in dress and
manners), ignored with truly British dis-
dain the cards of the ladies who came to
call upon her under what seems to have
been amistaken idea of the courtesy due a
stranger.

In view of the fact that Stanley is just
now one of the most talked of men in the
United States and Britain, a few words
about his early life may be of interest. His
real name is John Rowlands. He was
born in Wales in 1840, the child of very
poor parents. When but three years old
he was sent to a charitable institution to be
brought up, and at thirteen was thrown
upon his own resources. He taught school
in Wales, earning enough to take him to
Liverpool, whence he shipped as cabin~boy
on a sailing vessel bound for New Orleans.
He was ambitious and studious, and his
eﬁorts at advancement gained him the
friendship of a merchant of New Orleans.
named Stanley, who adopted him and gave
him his own name. But the kind old man
died leaving no will and his protege could
claim nothing from his estate, and was
again left to shift for himself. At the
breaking out of the war he went into the
Confederate army, and at its close drifted
to New York and into newspaper work,
and for twenty-seven years has been war
correspondent and explorer. It is said that
alove affair in which the lady said him nay
was the occasion of his self-imposed ban-
ishment to the perils of an explorer’s life.
He was with the English army in Abys-
sinia, and in Crete and Spain during the re-
volutions. and has traveled over nearly the
entire world, wherever there have been
wars. When months lengthened into
years and no tidings came of Dr. Living-
stone, the proprietors of the N. Y. Herald
resolved to equip an expedition for his
rescue, and the historic telegram, “ When
can you start to ﬁnd Livingstone?” and
its answer “To-day," ﬂashed across the
wires. He found Livingstone in Novem-
ber, 1871, and since then has made four
trips into the heart of Africa, the last of
which, for the rescue of Emin Pasha, was
the theme of his lecture here. -

The lecturer was introduced by Hon. T.
W. Palmer, and after the tumult of ap-
plause had died away, a breathless silence
settled upon the audience, the tribute of
their concentrated attention. It is of
course not possible to condense much of
what was said in an hour and a half into
the space available in the Honsanom, but
a brief synopsis may not he uninteresting.

 

 

The entire iourney covered 6,000 miles and

occupied 987 days. The ﬁrst thousand mile
section was by steamer up the Congo river
and one of its tributaries, then 600 miles
on foot through an unbroken primeval
forest—the forest region of Central Africa,

620 miles in length from north to south,
with an average width from west to east of
520 miles, and containing 320,000 square

miles. At Zimbuya, before entering the

forest, the fated rear guard was left behind,

under the command of Major 'Barttelot,

and the advance guard pushed on, in re-
sponse to Emin‘s cry “ Help us quickly or
we perish.” In this great tropical forest

there is the heat of perpetual summer and

the humid atmosphere of continued rains.

In a year, they recorded 560 hours of rain,

and such rainl The water fell in torrents,

in pitch blackness, accompanied by blind-
ing lightning and terriﬁc cannonading of

thunder. Even when the sun is shining,

the gloom in the forests is the twilight of
evening, owing to the thickness of the
canopy of foliage, 150 feet above, which
shuts out the sun. The trees, many of
them, have stood for centuries; the ground

beneath them is composed of the dust of
those which have gone, and strewed with
dead leaves and debris. The trees are
wreathed , with enormous parasites and
climbers; one climber was 1,400 feet long,

and these vines over-run the branches

from one tree to another, and hang in great
garlands and festoons thirty to forty feet

below. Through sucn scenes the ex-

plorers traveled for 170 days, cutting their

way through bush and briar, through
marshes, drenched by the frequent rains,

often suffering from hunger, always preyed
upon by ants, wasps and other insects; and
it is hardly to be wondered at that when.
the men at last emerged from the depress-

ing gloom of the forest and its dreadful at-
mosphere, they looked back and called it
hell. Out of 389 persons who entered it
only .173 survived.

The inhabitants of the forest are big peo-
ple and little people; the former own clear-
ings in the forest, the pigmies are unsettled
nomads, who camp near the banana plan-
tations. The morality of the tribes is of
the lowest, and some of them are cannibals.
They have no idea‘ of a God, and ate en-
tirely lacking in moral sensibilities. '

On the banks of Lake Albert N yanza
Stanley at last met Emin, and en-
deavored to persuade him to return
to the coast. Finding it impossible to
induce the Pasha to accede to any of
his propositions he left him, returning

  


     
   
   
   
    
   
 
   
   
 
 
    
    
   
  
   
   
   
    
   
  
   
  
   
  
    
 
  
  
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
     
    
   
  
   
  
   
    
     
   

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THE. HOUSEHOLD.

 

in search of the rear column which he
found wrecked, Barttelot dead, Jameson
gone, and Bouncy alone in charge; next
came the news of the capture of Emln and

Jephson by the rebel forces contending '

against the Mahdists, and the prospects of
the annihilation of both prisoners and
captors by the Mahdi. Jephson escaped;
the rebels released Emin on hearing of
Stanley’s approach with a superior force,
and came with Emin to be “forgiven,”
but really in the hope of disarming the
expedition and delivering it to the Mahdi
as a peace offering. Three attempts were
made to steal the guns of the party, only
frustrated by orders to the soldiers to tie
their guns to their bodies. Then Emin,
ﬁnding himself without a following, de-
cided to accompany Stanley to the coast.
Then came the wearisome march to Baga-
moyo, and Emin’s fall from the balcony
after the banquet on their arrival, in De-
cember, 1889, which seemed to have the
singular effect of annihilating friendly re-
lations between rescuer and rescued.
Finally Emin went over to the German in-
terest, and has since taken charge of a
German expedition into Africa.

Because of Emin’s want of frankness,
and on account of his vacillation, hun-
dreds of lives were lost, and the survivors
of those terrible marches suffered months
of privation and toil. In character he lacks

I steadfastness, and the ability to live up to

his spoken sentiments. He is devoted to
botany, entcmology and natural history, a
good talker, but totally deﬁcient in the
qualities which enable a man to rule men.
In fact, one could hardly help the suspicion
that Stanley really is of the opinion that
t ‘ the gamewas not worth the powder;” or,
in other words, the actual rescue of a man
like Emin, whose troubles seem to have
been mainly the result of his weaknesses,
indecision, and want of foresight, hardly
compensated for the sufferings and decima-
tiOn of his rescuers; and he admitted
frankly that Emin was not the character
in whose behalf the expedition was or-
ganized.
The results Of the exploration were sum-

marized by the lecturer as follows: “ We'

have discovered the long-lost snowy
Mountains of the Moon, the sources of the
Albertine, Nile, and also Lake Albert Ed-

ward, besides an important extension of *
the Victoria Nyanza; and four European-
governments, the British, French, German‘

and Portuguese, have been induced to

agree as to what their several spheres: of ‘

inﬂuence stall be in the future in the Dark
Continent, with a view to avoiding con-
ﬂicts in the future, and to redeeming it
from its present darkness and ignorance.”
BEATRIX.

WILL the Secretaries of Farmers’ Clubs-

who forward to the HOUSEHOLD papers
designed for publication, kindly endorse
upon them the name and address Of the
writer,'name of Club before which it was
read, and date and place of meeting. We
always like to give proper credit to both
Club and individual, and to do so the data
named above are requisite, but are some-
times forgotten. ,

. lives never come in contact, but one or the

 

   

PUBLIC OPINION.

“ Then gently scan thy brither man,

Still gentler, sister woman ,

Tho’ they may gang a kennin wrang
'l‘o step aside is human.

One point must still i e greatly dark,
'1 he moving. ’l M, the“ do it:

And just as plainly can ye mark
How far perhaps the) rue it ”

While nearly everything has a latitude,
Opinion is as free and boundless as the air.
We are not only privileged to think what
we please about another, but we can with
equal propriety express our opinion in
such language as we may deem proper.
While one can but reasonably suppose that
some remarks will be made as to habits,
peculiarities, etc.; it is a little hard to bear
the knowledge that one is up as a target
for public opinion. If one could always
be assured} of as charitable a judgment as
an old gentleman of my acquaintance
accorded everybody— dividing whatever
came to his cars by two—we could
better brave the scathing things said
about us. Many a noble resolve has been
forgotten, many a much cherished prize
been lost, many a human soul dropped
from the race of life, for want of a little
encouragement. Whatever we do is done
so blindly. Often what we deem is for the
best turns out for the worst. But the per-
ﬁdy of a friend is indeed hard to bear.
W hen we do ourselves a wrong, our self re-
morse is a just and suﬁ‘icient punishment,
but add to that the merciless judgment
that a cold and unfeeling public will
accord, one needs the will and stolidity of
a Hercules to bear up under it. Public
opinion knows no limit; it either carries a
man on the high wave of prosperity or it
treads him into the dust like a worm. It
fawns and showers adulation, and pierces
him in the back with a venomous dart; it is
two sided—it is double faced. It will
wreathe the face with smiles while there
is murder in the heart; it will gain vantage
ground at whatever cost; it will have you
on the pinnacle of Fame today and down
in the gutter to-morrow; it isas changeable
as the chameleon; it is as lasting. as the
snowﬂake in the river; it will vanish like
the rainbow in the storm. In the dark-
ness of night, in the light of the day, it is
over, about, around us. GO where we
will it still pursues us;it envelops us, holds
us captive. We are in its grasp as cer-
tainly as was ever poor mortal in the grasp
of Victor Hugo’s DevileFish, its tentacles
reach out, it decoys us, ﬂatters us, any
thing to further its own ends. '

It is just as impossible for one to live.
for himself as for the ﬂower to hoard its
fragrance, the sun hide his rays, the dew
drop refuse its grateful moisture. Two

other receives some help. The mere pass-
ing by, looking on a beautiful face, the
subtle inﬂuence of some perfume, the
catching of a word, a movement of the
hand, have often been turning points in
lives. Let each one ask himself when ren- .
dering judgment on another, “ Could I
have done better?” “Might I not have
stumbled as he did?” “ To err is human,
to forgive divine.” Let us each watch our
own actions; let us clear our own yard be-

with good thoughts, train our own boys'
and girls for life, and take it for granted
that all mothers are engaged in the same
good work, and daily and hourly_pray
“Lord, guard Thou the'door of my

mouth.” EVANGELINE.
Burns CREEK .

 

GOOD WORDS FOR THE “HOUSE-'
HOLD. ”

I have long been a reader of the little
HOUSEHOLD, and have wished to confess
my love for it, but like the young man
who has long loved his girl, have been too
bashful. And then that awful waste has-
ket would rise before me, and Ihave der-
fered until now I come forth with all the
courage I can muster and contribute my
mite. Although we take [several different
papers the little HOUSEHOLD is my ﬁrst
choice, its contents are perused before an-
other paper is thought of. As it has been:
'a weekly visitor for six years, it would
seem that I could not do without it. I have-
each year’s numbers sewed together, , and
it gives me' much pleasure to look them.
over.

I was much pleased with the article by
El. See., “ For Appearance’s Sake.” I
think parents ought to be careful about
their dress and not have their children feel
ashamed of them. For mothers to crimp
their hair, wear bangs, or even powder
their faces, in my estimation is better than:
to look slovenly. I have often seen women-
whose hair looked as if it had not: been
combed for days, and their clothes put on
in so slovenly a manner that I would, if I
had been their husband or children. been
very much tempted to feel ashamed of
them. And as I like to see woman look
nice so do I men. There is no need of
their looking beggarly if they are tillers of
the soil. But for a new comer I have

said enough, so I will make my bow and?

retire. ' HELLENA‘.
GRAND Lnnen.

 

WOMEN-GENERALLY AND PAR-
. TICULARLY.

 

I have supposed I understood most of‘
the kinks in the feminine mind, having,
been a woman myself—well, no matter
how many years. But what is it that
makes the woman who don’t want to vote,
so very anxious to keep the right of suf-

frage from her sister that does? Why.

should she care? And, Beatrix, if women

have so much better times in life than men ,

why is it that you never yet sawaman

who wished he was a woman? The women

I know best are good wives and mothers,
spending their lives in unselﬁsh work for
others. But I live in the backwoods and‘

perhaps the cities produce a different type. '

Yet in my life I have known city women
who lived their kindly Christian lives and

were too truly ladies to speak in a fault-7

ﬁnding way of others.
But the kind of a female that makes me
more tired to cc ntemplate than any other

is the good Methodist sister who believes
that her feminine modesty would be utterly;
gone if she were to go to the Conference as"'_

a delegate right along with the brethrén.

 

fore cleaning our neighbors; ﬁll the mindi

 

It's.>.'"€eéaai~‘;~.~.£.}mt in.“ was. ,

 

Have you noticeders. Grant’s “ Recolé‘

 


 

 
 

 

v‘x "~97:

K454

 

  
  

   

 

‘ THE HOUSEHOLD. 8

 

lections” in the October Home-Maker? One
reads them with the wish that her friends
had kindly kept the poor woman cut of
print. It is not even of any historical
value, as she has far more to say of Papa
Dent than Gen. Grant. But it shows her
to have been a good, loving daughter; and
after all a kindly heart is of more value
than mere intellect.

Ella R. Wood, I have always in reading
letters over your name expected good solid
common sense, and have not yet been dis-
appointed. But your opinion on the suf-
frage question touched with me “ a chord
that vibrated ” and I wish that I could
reach down to Flint and shake hands with
you. ‘

Do you all know that pumpkin pies are
better to grate the pumpkin on a horse-
radish grater, than to stew it before making

the pies? HULDAH PERKINS.
PIONEER .
W

LIFE ON THE FARM.

[Paper read before the Union City Farmers’
Club, Nov. 12th, by Mrs. Travers]

I' There are many diﬁerent opinions in re-
gard to farm life. Some say farm life is
one of drudgery, while others see beauty,
pleasure and happiness as the lot of the
presiding goddess on the farm.

Acting upon the principle that life is
what we make it, there is a chance to so
control our farm life that it may be made
one of pleasure and happiness. Work is
the one great principle of success; but by a
proper planning and arranging of our work,
We may lighten the labor of execution. It
is true that the energetic, driving farmer
leads a‘ busy, active life, for an outlay of
much hard labor is necessary, as work is
theengine that draws the car of successful
farming.

" There are very busy seasons in connec-
tion with farm life, and it is true that the
hardest and most important work comes
during the hottest weather, 'when labor is
the most unpleasant and unbearable; and it
is not surprising that many a farmer be-

, comes discontented and envles the mer-

chant or banker their seeming life of ease.
There is much work that is laborious and
unpleasant, and requires more muscular
eXertion on the farm than in the shop or at
the desk; nevertheless the clerk and mer-
chant work more hours in a day, and are
more closely conﬁned than the man on the
farm. It is not necessary that the farmer
should work sixteen hours out of twenty-
four, as very many of them do, for by so
doing he surely makes adrudge of himself
by trying to do more work than he is able,
becoming tired and disheartened, and apt
to look upon farm life as a round of
drudgery. One great trouble is, the
farmer is trying to get rich too fast. The
accumulation of wealth is the acme of his
desires, it absorbs all other interests and
blunts all the ﬁner feelings of his nature.
Thus year after year he works on, ., from
early morn till late at night, with no other
incentive than to lay up a few paltry dol-
lars to leave behind him when the Master
of the universe has summoned him to that
great harvest ﬁeld above. .As the years
pass on, failing health reminds him that for

 

all his hurry and worry, he has only me
mature old age, and a goodly share of
aches and pains as an offset against his
bank stock and mortgages.

The overworked man or woman are no
ﬁt judges of farm life, for they mechani-
cally do all the work they can possibly
crowd into the time after arising from their
bed in the morning, until they retire at
night, thus destroying all taste for literary
attainments, and ﬁnally conclude that
literature and knowledge of science belong
to a class of men and women with more
brains and more time for study, than the
farmers and farmers’ wives. Such men
and women never attend a farmers’ insti-
tute. They cannot spare the time; they
must work hard all the time, raise good
crops, sell their products, save a portion
for family use and put the balance at in-
terest, and gloomily assert that farming is
a slow process by which to get rich.

There are men who are willing to sacri-
ﬁce every comfort and every enjoyment,
for the sake of adding to their bank account.
They will gleefully relate to the good wife
that they have just bought another mort-
gage, and hope to be able to buy another
one when the crops are all harvested and
sold; and admonish her to be careful and
economies and make the old carpet do an-
other year. We once heard a good woman
lamenting that she had no sewing machine;
when asked why she did not get one, said
she: “ John says when he gets $500 at
interest he will buy me one.” And she
seemed more eager for the money at in-
terest than she did for the much needed
sewing machine.

Is it any wonder that such people, when
health begins to fail them and they ﬁnd
themselves unable to carry on the work that
is required on the farm, assert that farm
life is a life of drudgery? Such people die
without ever knowing the true joys of farm
life. Men or women have no right to bur-
den themselves with so much work that
they can take no time for recreation and
pleasure. It is a duty they owe themselves
and their families to so live that they may
get all the good there is in life.

Granges and Farmers’ Institutes have
been formed for the express purpose of
bringing the farmers into closer unity.
The social feature brings together men
and women, young and old, who may dis-
cuss whatever pertains to the well-being of
the community; to make country homes
and country society more attractive anden-
joyable that the exhaustive labor of the
farm may be overbalanced by instructive,
social amusement. and accomplishments.
The lack of social enjoyment has been long
felt among the farmers, and this want
these farmers’ meetings and the Grange has
most thoroughly supplied. Were the
farmers to come out of their isolation and
join these institutions of learning and in-
struction, they would ﬁnd that a day thus
spent would enable them to take hold of
farm work with renewed strength and
more energy; their minds would be ﬁlled
with higher, wider thoughts, and they
would oftener_look upon the pleasant side
of farm life. .

Life is too short for us to live merely

 

 

for mercenary purposes. We know not
how soon we may be called upon to lay
down our implements on earth, and render
our accounts to the great Master above.
Therefore let the farmers come out .and
put their shoulders to the wheel of prog-
ress and their hands upon the lever of
educational, social and moral upliftment.
Farmers, arouse yourselvesi T here is a
great work for you to do. Instead of be»
moaning the trials of farm life, try to im
prove that life and lift the farmer and
farmer's wife to a higher standpoint, and
you will ﬁnd that

-‘ Farm life is not so bad a life,
As some would like to make it:
But Whether good or whether bad
Depends on how we take It."

————-...__—

ABOUT VISITING.

The sentiments of one signing herself
“ Ungracious ” some time back, quite

meet my ideas of visiting, only I should
Write about four chapters of the meanest

kind of stuff if I were to express myself
fully. Take my word for it, there are few
people in this world who really know how

to make a call or a visit. I hate this ever-

lasting, miscellaneous, hypocritical, non-

sensical time-consuming visiting, and yet I

am one of those bland dissemblers with a

set smile who would not for anything make
aguest feel uncomfortable, not if he should
lean back in his chair and leave hear’s grease
all over the wall paper, or break the chair

into pieces, or even if he should spit

tobacco on the hearth, but wouldn’t he

catch it when he had gone? This I have
mentioned is not much compared to what
visitors can do to aggravate and wear out a
hostess. Such a variety of visitors have
experimented on me that I am not sure

which I dread the most. There is the
pious visitor, usually a minister, a travel-
ing evangelist or migratory missionary.
He will swoop down upon you some Satur-
day night when you are short of bread,
and next morning when you are hurrying
like mad to get to Sunday school, will read
48 verses and comment, then pray for
Eurdpe, Asia and Africa, Cuba and the
West Indies, England, Scotland and Wales,
the Chinese and the government, the Y. M.
C. A. and Freedman’s Bureau, but never a
petition for the woman who is becoming
an imbecile over her domestic affairs, dis~
concerted by his presence. Then there is
the visitor from the country who appears
to believe that the time and money of the
city denizen is unlimited and acts accord-
in gly. She acts as if she had never heard
of work and expects to be waited on like a
queen. Sometimes this class are enter-
tained, and again one fails to see anything
in the metropolis that can quite equal the
village they hail from. Asweet old friend.
spent four weeks with us last summer. She
was always ready before any one else when
we were going out. Always down in time

for meals. Did not have to be entertained
every moment, and thoroughly enjoyed the
plans made for her and recognized much
that was superior to her own city, a large
and busy place. There is still another.
class—callers properly—whowant to know
how much you paid for your parlor. carpet

 

  


THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

and it you own the house you live in and
if you have a good girl, and if your hus-
band drinks and who that young man was
with your daughter last Sunday. I must
not omit the young man who is aﬂiicted
with the lingers. He gets into the hall and
is taken. You may help him on with his
coat and thrust his hat into his hand and
ﬂing open the door and point out an ap-
proaching car, but there he sticks. But
worst of all is the guest who is always late
to breakfast. I always want to get a gun
for this class.

Readers will say, then who do you like;
is there no one you want to visit you?
Bless you, yes. Lots of people, but they
are of the kind one never can have long.
They are too busy. They are too interest-
ing to be spared long in one place. they
have missions they must perform. We
certainly waste too much time boring each

' othrr. I am sure my ideas of the matter
are not solitary. I have spent half my
time, I believe, in being achip basket to
hold the trash others have thrown at me
and the other half in throwing chips back,
and to what does it amount? There
is no established aﬂection, neither any
pleasant memory. Shall we reform, turn
about and get “queer,” or go on in the
same old way? Go on, of course. Who
can aﬁord to break through such along
established customi Not I.

S'r. Lotus. DAFFODILLY.

 

HELPS FOR THE HOLIDAYS.

 

Almost every one knows how to make
the handsome handkerchief sachets which
open like a book cover, but here are direc-
tions for something quite new and novel
in the sachet line. Get six pieces of satin
ribbon half a yard long and about three
inches wide, three of one color, and three
of another. Stitch them together length-
wise, folding each end to apoint, and leave
one seam open about ten inches. Insert a
lining of cotton scented with sachet powder,
and then a lining of soft silk, fastened to
the edges of the left- open seam. Draw the

' ends closely and fasten them under double

.bows of satin ribbon. Any number of
pretty handkerchiefs can be inserted in this
dainty one, which resembles a melon in
shape and may be made still more like one
by using palest green and a darker hue for
the ribbons.

It is almost impossible to get too many
pillows for the couch or lounge, nowdays,
or too great a variety in size and shape.
A new design is the circular pillow covered
with silk-and ’chamois. Two circles of the
leather are cut out, each just large enough
to cover the top of the cushion without ex.
tending over the edge. Pink the edges of
the chamois, and on one of the circles
paint a cluster of pansies. Round the en-
tire cushion put a puﬁ of purple silk. In
and between each scallop is punched an

eyelet hole, and through these holes is.

passed a silk cord which holds the circles
together over the silk puff.

To crochet a wool boa, which is a very
pretty gift for a little girl, use elder down
wool and a large bone needle. Make a

loose chain of 126 stitches. Skip 12, work

 

a single crochet on the next, then ﬁnish
the row by making 12 chain and a single
crochet on the next stitch of foundation
chain. When at the end of the row turn
and work another row of loops on the
other side of the foundation. Turn once
more at the end 9f this row and work loops
in the same stitches as the ﬁrst were
worked in. Sew ribbons on each side to
tie it in front, letting the ends fall free.

A tablescarf that is both pretty and
serviceable is of white linen, a yard and a
half long and half a yard wide, fringed on
the ends and hemstitched on the sides. A
huge spider-web is drawn in the middle
and a smaller one at either end, and etched
with yellow wash silk. Autumn leaves
etched in yellow, red or brown have the
appearance of having been carelessly
caught in this web.

A home made writing tablet is a useful
present, especially to a student, or a per-
son who spends much time away from
home, who will thusalways have writing
mat' rials on hand. Cover a half-inch pine
board, 20x15 inches, with dark red felt
or ladies cloth; in the centre put two or
three sheets of blotting paper held in place
by bits of leather fastened by brassheaded
tacks. Pieces of the same leather form
pockets for envelopes, note paper, postal
cards and stamps; and a strip of leather an
inch wide is divided by the tacks in such a
way as to hold pencil, pentholder and paper
knife. The centre space of the tablet—
that covered by the blotting paper—is re-
served to write upon; and it is more con-
venient to have the divisions for paper,
envelopes, etc., arranged at the top of this.

The Country Gentleman tells of a pretty
article for an invalid, a wrap to be worn
while sitting up in bed: “Get one and
three fourths yards of warm ﬂannel, of any
color preferred, double it and cut a slit
nine inches deep in the middle. On either
side of this lay back the goods in a revers.
This forms the neck. Pink the material
all around, and at the top lay back two
inches, feather-stitching it down with
bright silk. Feather-stitch also around
the revers at the neck, and tie with bright
ribbons, At the opposite lower corners
fold back and feather-stitch a triangular
piece for a cuff, and tack together so that
the hand can easily slip through. These
little wraps can be made as handsome
and costly as you please. One lately sent
to a friend is made of pink elder down
ﬂannel, bound with white ribbon with a
picot edge, trimmed at the neck with
swans-down and tied with wide ribbons
of pink‘and white plaid, so exquisite in
their tints and freshness as to remind one
of nothing so much as apple blossoms.
Bows of the same are placed on the on if.”

You can buy the most dainty and won-
derful baskets for baby’s toil.tte, or you
can make one at home as described below;
and really, the elegance of the basket does
not seem to affect the quality of the baby’s
brains or the strength of his lungs, which
is certainly a mercy, since a great many
babies have to be brought up without ex-
periencing the civilizing and enlightening
inﬂuences of a basket. Procure some stiff

 

large as you want the bottom of your bas~
ket to be, cover both on one side with pink
or blue lining cambric and overhand them

together neatly. If desired more delicate,
use thin white muslin to cover the cambric.
Now cut sixteen pieces to be covered in
the same way for the sides, having the
bottom of each piece just wide enough to
ﬁt on the eight sided piece, and slanting it
out toward the top to make the latter
about an inch wider than the bottom.
After these pieces are covered, overhand
them together to form a circle, sew the
bottom in, add cushions and pockets to
please the fancy and edge the top with
cord, plaited ribbon or lace.

DOMESTIC HELPS.

 

A nice way of baking apples is to choose
those of medium size, pare and remove the
core, but do not quarter; place in a deep
baking dish, and when about half done
pour around them arich custard and ﬁnish
baking.

new dish with some. Wash the apples
carefully and remove the blossom end.
Place in a stew pan with enough sweetened
water to cover. Boil slowly until tender,
remove and boil the juice until thick, and
pour it over the apples.

A unique decoration after irosting a nice
loaf cake, is to select good sized raisins,
and into each insert ﬁve cloves, arranged
so as to form the head and four feet of a
miniature turtle. These should be plawd
on the frosting in such regulation as will
not necessitate their removal when the
cake is cut. Mariana.

annnvrnm.
...._ -—-—.O.——--

THE article on infants' clothing asked
for by a correspondent, is unavoidably
held over till our next issue. Do you
notice that chasm known as “an aching
void ” in the corner usually devoted to re-
cipes? Who pleads guilty to the charge
of knowing how to make good things she
will not tell her friends about?

_——.6"-——

Not a few city housekeepers who ﬁnd
their time sadly broken in upon by the
rings at the doorbell which herald the too
frequent caller, the ubiquitous agent and
the persistent beggar, would be glad to
introduce on “ our street” the fashion
which Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney describes as
prevailing in “ Ascntney Street,” her new
novel. The good dames had “souls above
buttons,” and yearnings after the unattain-
able though they “did” their own wash~
'ing, cleaning and cookir g. That these
sac red but ignoble rites might notbe broken
in upon, and they be forced to reveal their
domestic mysteries and their dishabille
while employed as their own servants, they

adopted a simple expedient, never men-
tioned but tacitly understood. When the
lady of the house was washing, clear-
starching, or putting up her catsups, she
tied a ribbon to the doorbell and this was
a signal to her friends that. she was " out.”
They respected the warning; and the un-
initiated caller might ring in vain; the
maid, who was also the mistress, knew full
well it was no acquaintance and to any in-

 

pasteboard, out two eight sided pieces as

truder she was very emphatically ” not at
home."

Perhaps b'oiled sweet apples may be a '

    

Aun ..

 

 

 

 

 
  
    

