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DETROIT, JANUARY 2, 1888.

 

 

THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

THE TIRED WIFE.

All day the wife had been toiling.
From an early hour in the morn.

And her hands and her feet were w3ary
With the burdens that she had borne;
Butt she said to herself: " The trouble

That weighs on my mindisthis—
'l‘hat Tom never thinks to give me
A comforting hug and a kiss.

“I'm willing to do my duty.
To use all my strength and skill
In makingthe home attractive.
In striving my place to ﬁll;
But though the approval of conscience
Is sweet, I am free to say,
That if Tom would give me a hug and a kiss,
’Twould take all the tired away.”

Then she counted over and over
The years she had been Tom‘s wife.
.And thought of thejoys and sorrows
She had known in her married life;
To be sure. there was money plenty,
And nevera lack of food,
But a kiss now and then and a word of praise
Would have done a world of good.
.Ah, many a one is lozoing
For words that are never said;
And many a heart goes hungry
For something better than bread;
But Tom had an inspiration,
And when he went home that day
He petted his wife and kissed her
In the oldvtime lover-like way.

And she—such enigmas are women!
Who had held herself up with pride,
At her husband‘s display of fondness
Just hung on his neck and cried.
And he, by her grief reminded
Of troubles he might have sha'ed,
Said: " Blessmy heartl What a fool I've been!
And I didn’t suppose you cared E”
-Jo.¢ep/1ine Pollard, in N. Y. Ledger.
~——————¢w———-

READING FOR GIRLS.

I have been greatly troubled about the
way in which country girls spend their
leisure hours. After the customary routine
of household duties is performed the girls
are “ so lonesome,” don’t know what to do
with themselves, and either sit down idly to
hold their hands, or go visiting; perhaps,
though, it is a busy season, all the horses
are at work; so the young girl is thrown up-
on her own resources, and, picking up a
trashy novel, it may be in book form, but it
is more likely to be of the newspaper kind
—Saturday Night, for instance—or one of
those printed upon the inside of some of
the country papers, she drops down upon
the couch, and for the next two hours is
llost in the heart-rending distresses of
Amanda Malvina Fitzallen, only closing

the book or paper after her mother has.

called her several times, and than going
=sulkily about her work wondering why she
.had not been born in a castle where there

:1

 

were no dishes to wash, and hoping, in a
dreamy sort of way, that fate will eventual-
ly send some wandering prince that way.
The girl lives an unreal life, sympathizing
with the trials of her favorite heroine, until
she almost puts herself in her place, and
unconsciously scorns her homely round of
duties as she imagines the great lady would
do, until the bright-eyed. rosy-checked
country girl grows up into a discontented
young lady who gives no pleasure to herself
or anybody else.

The girl herself is not to blame for this,
but her parents are; for it is their duty to
furnish books and papers of the best kind,
and to stimulate and suggest in the wisest
way the best methods of reading. Children
should be taught to read at home, or rather
allowed to learn as a privilege, which is not
impossible if rightly managed. I would
teach the child to study in the very begin-
ning, not to read the little story simply to
be amused or to pass away the time.

Of the necessity of making attractive the
beginning of reading, Ed ward Everett Hale
says: “ 1n the ﬁrst place we must make
this business agreeable. Whichever avenue
we take into the maze must be one of the
pleasant avenues, or else, in a world that
God has made very beautiful, the child will
want to go out of door to play and the young
people will go a—skating, or a-ﬁshing, or as
swimming, or a—voyaging, and not a-read-
ing.”

If there is a wise counselor by to suggest,
or rather accidentally to put into one’s way
a book which, while it requires great mental
effort, yet is entertaining enough to make
the reader forget she is thinking, as some
of Washington Irving’s or Holland’s for in-
stance, the taste for gooi, substantial liter-
ature is very soon acquired. It is in read-
ing as in eating. When the ﬁrst hunger is
over you begin to be a little critical, and
will by no means take to garbage if you
have a wholesome nature.

There is a heavy duty and responsrbility
resting upon parents at the very outset, and
many mistakes are unwittingly made.
Sometimes a certain class of reading is con—
demned, but nothing else is given in its
place to ﬁll the craving of a hungry mind;
in that case, either the forbidden book is
read “on the sly” or some other, often
more hurtful, is substituted in its place. Ev-
ery one who has had anything to do with
girls knows that each one is much more apt
to follow a suggestion which is so delicately
put that she believes she came around to
that way of thinking herself, (and it is true
of the boys too).

But above all things discourage the young

 

person from setting herself up as a critic.
To say “ I can’t bear Dickens,” or “ Thack-
ery is so tiresome,” or “ George Eliot is too
prosaic,” is almost equivalent to no t :ste at
all. If, after she has read those great
authors, she has failed to get into sympathy
with them enough to understand and appre-
ciate them, let her say so humbly and sor-
rowfully, not boastfully; and the reader
should immediately go to work to cultivate
her taste. I would not have. her unlruthful,
and pretend to like what she does not, for
there is little hone of a hypocrite; but each
of us is responsible for her own taste; it is
like the conscience, we are to blame if it is
not sufﬁciently educated to be able to dis-
tinguish the good from the bad. And when
once we have the true love of books in our
hearts, what an inexhaustible store of hap-
piness is open to us! As Ruskin says,
great and good men will talk to us as long
as we like, whatever our rank or occupation:
talk to us in the best words they can choose
and with thanks, if we listen to them.
PAW PA\\'. AURORA.
____..,.___

SOMETHING LEFT UNDONE.

One of our most popular poets, Long-
fellow, brings this subject before us in the
form of a beautiful poem.

“Labor with what zeal we will,
Something still remains undone."

Something, or an unknown 'quantity or
undeterminated event; neglected or for-
gotten; undone or subject to destruction.

Deﬁned thus it is an event forgotten and
destroyed.

It is an established truth that labor is
never linished so long as we inhabit this
earth, and some would have this orb only
the ﬁrst step to a higher, universal and eter-
nal career, and therefore something uncom-
pleted still would await us in the hereafter.

In the life of every one there come days
and weeks of doubt and perplexity when we
as}: ourselves “What shall I do and what
can 1 leave undone?”

To those who have decided on a deﬁnite
course, not much trouble will arise in fol-
lowing its prescribed path, but a large per-
centage of humanity is compelled by cir-
cumstances to follow a pursuit that will re-
quire of them daily self-denial, and to them
comes always the ghost of another life, an
incompleteness and longing for something
that is not for them.

Labor day after day, physical or men
tal, is required of all. And though centu-
ries of labor have been completed, future
generations will ever ﬁnd work before
them. _

Labor in the sweat of the brow, the

 


 

2 THE HOUSEHOLD.

u

whirl of the brain, with beating pulses and
throbing heart.

Still there is forever something left un-
done haunting our physical repose and fol—
lowing us in our pleasure. Something is
waiting to receive our attention at every
turn.

Then, too, the Spiritual body endeavors
toovercome the physical weariness and en-
able the brain and heart to gain refresh-
ment, a necessary adjunct to existence. Or
a moral obligation is urging us onward, and
always and forever tasks are unﬁnished.

"- Bs the bedside, by the stair,
At the threshold, near the gate.
With its menace or its prayer,
Like a mendicant it waits.”

Day unto day brings its weight of care,
and the setting sun of to-day sees many
tasks uncompleted.

" Procrastination is the thief of Time,”
and neglect and forgot are close of kin.
Hand in hand they travel through our lives,
abiding here or there, ever leaving the soil
impoverished if not ruined by their habita-
tion. Yet time with relentless hand is
constantly destroying the work of man and
nature, and assisting him to bury his fail-
ures ; Opening new sources of pleasure and
proﬁt. And, again, the faithful and far-see-
ing poet brings to our view a burden through
which we are all suffering, namely :

“ By the cares of yesterday
Each to-day is heavier made."

We all recall some event of the past that
still casts a shadow over the present, in
word or action, thoughtless and careless, in
youth or later years. The passing by of a
duty that we owe to the community in which
we dwell, a religious or moral, a business or
political obligation is neglected. More
yet, to our friends and companions do we
cause heedless suffering; not wilfully but
simply because we forgot. In all conditions
of life we ﬁnd this evil.

“Faithfulness in little things ” is a max—
im to be followed more generally even at
the present day of large undertakings and
small proﬁts.

A wise ordinance of our Creator so
wile the future that we remain ignorant of
the next step before us, else we would, in
many cases, be utterly discouraged at the
amount of care and suffering to be our

share.
Step by step onward and upward, no

halting to look to right to left for what
might be, and we reach the haven of rest.
So we fulﬁll the duties that come before us
and steadily press onward, so only can we
escape the overpowering sense of labors
uncompleted.

“ Knowing our duty, let us cling to that,
and distress may overwhelm but can not
disturb us, may destroy but cannot hurt

as.”
To the conscientious man an apparent

duty becomes ofttimes a reality, and its neg-
lect brings with it a constant recurring
sense of something left undone and worries
the victim until the forgetfulness has bean
remedied, yet through the entire lifetime of
said person it appears now and again like
some awful spectre of forgotten times, be-
coming thus a burden to carry from year to
year, making heavier our to-morrow, and

heading not our penitence.

“Till at length the burden seems
Greater than ur strength can bear,
Heavy as the weight of dreams,
Pressing on us eVery where."

Others may pass over such stings of con-
science with a careless disregard for what
men may think—cool, indifferent; but to the
mostof us it is always a weight, and leaves
behind it some impression that it is in our
power to turn to good or evil, just as we
will, for our own beneﬁt or for that of others.
Certain it is that we leave undone more for
the beneﬁt of our neighbor and brother than
for our own interest, and yet the words are
ever before us, “ Do unto others as you
would be done by.”

it may be a labor of love or pity that cus-
tom or morality requires of us, yet better it is
if we unshrinkingly attack it and not let
the opportunity pass, for moments pass
only too swiftly and we see them no more.

All that we do, let us do to the best of
our ability and then we may rest content.

Human imperfection cannot pretend to
accomplish what Nature is constantly striv-
ing to improve.

In every life are wasted moments, yet we
cannot always call them wasted, for one or
another of the senses are alert and active.

And thus

“We stand from day to day
Like the dwarfs of times gone by,
Who. as Northern legends say,
On their shoulders held the sky.”

FRED.
-——m———-

FOR THE HOME DRESSMAKER.

Where two colors are made up together,
it is customary to use the lighter for the
lower skirt. A black and tan dress recent-
ly sent from a. well-known dressmaker’s had
a skirt of tan color, the bottom out out in
leaf points which fell over a fold of tan vel-
vet. The drapery was of black cashmere,
very long and nearly concealing the skirt,
though permitting it to show all round and
on the sides. Basque of black cashmere,
cut in points over the tan vest. This would
be handsome in black and copper color, or
one of the new mahogany shades which are
so popular at the moment. Where a dress
is made up with velvet, the skirt is perfectly
plain, and has a wide border of the velvet
set on at the edge or three inches above it.
The basque is trimmed with velvet revers,
but no velvet is used on the drapery. Vel-
vet skirts with polonaises of wool goofs
are popular.

Garibaldi waists are revived, but not as
they were worn twenty years ago. They
have a pointed yoke, which is generally
braided, are more closely ﬁtted, and extend
below the belt long enough to cover the
hips, being sloped shorterzon the hips, and
a little longer in front than behind. This
prevents them from pulling up under the
belt. The sleeves have no cuﬁs, but a line
of braiding ﬁnishes the wrist; the belt is
pointed and lapped, and it and the high
straight collar are covered with braiding.
These waists are made of cloth, ﬂannel and
cashmere, and worn with any skirts.
Young ladies like them in red, but others
prefer quiet colors.

Watered silk is a very fashionable com-
bination with wool goods; it replaces to a
large extent the velvet, plain or brocaded,
which has been worn so long. It is used
as revers, panels, etc., with cashmere and
Henrietta cloth, and though not enduring
wear like the velvet, makes rich-looking

 

dresses. It costs from $1.37}; to $2.25,

 

with the blessed privilege of using as much
or as little as one chooses.

A pretty dress made for a stout, matron--
ly lady, of green camells’ hair, had a plain
skirt of green watered silk, ﬁnished at the
foot across the front and sides by a full
pleated ruche three inches wide,of the dress
goods. The front drapery disclosed. the
skirt to the waist on the left side, and ex-
tending almost to the bottom, was gathered
in graceful folds far back on the right where
it met the back drapery, slightly caught up
with it. A cluster of French loops of green
watered ribbon was set on here. The
basque was absolutely plain save for short,
narrow revers of the moire, and ﬁtted the
plump ﬁgure like a glove.

The ribbons of the season deserve more
than mere mention. They are very hand-
some. A novelty seen at Lowrie’s —-where
you must go if you want to ﬁnd the very
latest and cheapest—had two narrow stripes
of velvet on a copper-colored ground, with
alternate satin and corded stripes dividing
them. The same effect was seen in old gold,
mauve, mahogany and cardinal. Another
style had one wider stripe of velvet, making
about one-half the width, the other half be-
ing grosgrain; these are ﬁfty cents a yard.
Changeable ribbons are the fashionable fad

_ of the moment; used in French loops, that

is, a bunch of 15 loops, each half a yard
long, they decorate costumes and furniture.
French loops of white satin ribbon tied the
bouquets of. the bridal party at the Sheldon-
Alger wedding recently. They have a plain
satin cord edge, and are from one and a
half to two inches wide, for forty cents.
Ribbons of two shades are showy and
pretty; pale lilac with purple, dark and
light greens and blues, show to good advan-
tage on dresses or fancy work, and cost
from 25 to 50 cents. Plcot-edged ribbons
are less used, the loop edges are quite “out,”
the milliners tell us, but all the same mer—
chants sell yards of them yet. The feather-
edged ribbons, though, are past and gone,
they soiled and looked raggei too soon.
Moire ribbons of the same color are used»
more upon dresses than these fancy ones,
which are reserved for wear on the corsage.

Blouse waists are very pretty for girls of
from ten to fourteen. They have pointed
yokes, both front and back, which are braid-A
ed, as also the cuffs and high collar. The
material is gathered to the yoke, and out
long enough to gather to a belt an i fall over
it like a sailor blouse. Sometimes instead
of braiding, the yoke, cuffs and collar are
made of velvet, the skirt being trimmed
with it also.

Young ladies are wearing velvet basques-
again, matching them to the color of the
skirts to be worn, or if the waist is to do
duty with several skirts, selecting black.
Velvet and plush goods in colors have been
as low as a dollar per yard here, in 20-inch
widths; they are not of course of the best
quality, but answer very well for these

basques,which are not likely to be worn long,..

and for fancy work. Some very beautiful
plush dresses are seen in blue, green or pur--
pie; a copper-colored plush with wrap and
bonnet to match was very handsome but.
rather too showy for. the street, especially
as the wearer was on foot. These plush
dresses are perfectly plain in front and on.

.asmsaaapsw AM. New ,

a
3

 


 

 

 

......u...~,....,

THE HOUSEHOLD. 8

 

the sides, slightly draped at the back, and
absolutely without trimming of any kind?
the beauty of the material and the ﬁt of the
costume constituting its elegance.

HOME TALKS.

NO . XII.

 

 

The baking powder crust you have learned
to make, Hetty, for biscuit, furnishesa foun-
dation fora number of puddings; rolled in
small pieces and ﬁlled with tart apples cut
in quarters, the crust drawn around and
edges pinched together, and steamed three-
quarters of an hour, we have delicious
dumplings to be eaten with butter and
sugar, maple syrup, or cream and sugar.
Rolled out in a sheet and covered with ber-
ries of any kind, or cherries, or peaches cut
ﬁne, then rolled up, crusts pinched to-
gether and steamed makes roly-poly pud-
ding. Fill a pudding dish with apple ;,
lay a crust over and bake them, turn crust
down on a platter and season liberally
with butter and sugar, not stirred in, but
laid thick on top and a little nutmeg grated
on, we call it Apple John. It also makes
an excellent crust for pot pie and meat or
chicken pie. It is always light and always
white when made from patent ﬂour.

Here is apiece of beef for stewing to-
day; this piece is cut from the fore shoulder,
the fore-knuckle it is called, and has but
one round bone in it; it weighs nine pounds
Twenty minutes to the pound for fresh meat
and thirty for salt meat is the rule, but I
think two and one-half hours will cook this.
Always put fresh meat into hot water, salt
meat into cold. Have water enough to
two-thirds cover the meat to-day and have
it boiling; salt and pepper the meat when
you put it in. Some cooks say the salt ex-
tracts the juices of the meat, it will steak, 1
know. After the meat gets to boiling
keep agood steady ﬁre; let it boil slowly
but constantly. Plunging it into hot water
sears the meat on the outside: just as I told
you about the roast, if it is kept boiling
hard all the time the ﬁbrine is hardened and
the meat becomes tasteless and hard. That
is the trouble With nine-tenths of the
young cooks, the ﬁre is all out at times, and
then started up and the meat boiled as
violently as possible. It should not sim-
mer, but bubble all over, in this way the
meat is juicy and has a good ﬂavor,
Replenish the water as needed from the let
kettle, which should be kept full of hot
water. As the dinner hour approaches see
that the meat boils dry, add a lump of but-
ter and brown nicely, do not ever let it
scorch, for the ﬂavor of the gravy will be
spoiled. Now adl a triﬂe of seasoning and
dish; turn in one pint of hot water and
thicken asfor roast beef; strain the gravy
through the tin strainer, as there will he
hits of meat in it.

Corn boiled on the ear, baked potatoes,
lima beans, raw tomatoes, corn starch
blancmange makes our dinner today.
For the last, set one quart of milk over a
kettle of hot water; when hot, gait, and wet
up half a teacup of corn starch with cold
milk, stir in slowly; if it does not make it
stiﬁ enough add a little more, it should be
quite stiff. Wet some cups and in the
bottom of each place one tablespoonful of

 

current jelly; ﬁll them two-thirds full of the
blancmange and set them to cool. When
you serve it, turn out in saucers and eat
with sweetened. cream, not milk, ﬂavored
with vanilla. The lima beans should boil
two hours at least, in just enough water to
cook them then add cream, butter, salt,
and serve like peas. Peel and slice the to—
matoes and Sprinkle with sugar, salt and
pepper, and pass them for each one to help
himself, they are so much better than made
sour with vinegar. In making succotash
use six large ears of corn to a pint of lima
beans. Cook the beans half an hour before
adding the corn; cut and scrape it from the
cob, and then boil half an hour, season with
cream, butter, salt and a little sugar.

Boiled 1n rearoni is delicious. Because it
is served as a vegetable. many think it
must be something that grows. Well, it
does; but in the shape of wheat; it is
simply dough pressed and forced through
tubes and comes out in the form of maca-
roni or vermicelli. Boil it gently in milk
and water; allowing six minutes to the
ounce, then drain and season the same as
beans or corn; grated cheese over it seems
an essential adjunct. Macaroni with to~
matoes: One and one half pints of beef
soup will be absorbed by eight ounces of
macaroni. After boiling ﬁfteen minutes,
or until it is tender, take up in a ﬂat dish——
grate cheese over—and pour over a plenti-
ful supply of nicely seasoned stewed to-
matoes. Sweet potatoes are plenty now,
and are certainly at their best when baked,
but are an excellent breakfast dish when
boiled the day before and fried in hot but-
ter, not sliced but cut in oblong chunks or
cube shapes. Salt slightly and fry brown.
Irish potatoes are cooked in innumerable
ways, as pared and roasted whole in the
dripping pan with roast beef. Mashed
potato mixed with minced beef’s tongue
or boiled ham. seasoned and made into
balls, rolled in egg and fried like ﬁsh-walls,
are called potato rissoles and are a pleasant
change for breakfast.

Those sweet apples are at their best now,
Hetty; select enough perfect ones to ﬁll the
preserve kettle two-thirds . full; add a pint
of hot water and let them boil, after cover-
ing closely, half an hour or more; then add
a teacupful of white sugar, and after a
little change the under ones to the top and
let the syrup boil down on them. These
are lovely for tea and breakfast. Pears are
delicious cooked in this way, and served
for a dessert with butter and sugar, or
eaten cold like the apples.
are equally as good eaten with butter and
sugar. The Rad Astrachans are ripe and
we will have apple compote some day: Pare
and dig the cores out, leaving the apples
whole; take enough to weigh one pound.
Makea syrup of three-fourths of a pound of
sugar and drop in the apples a few at a
time; do not allow them to break to pieces,
remove carefully to a deep dish; now dis-
solve one box of gelatine in a little hot
water, stir into the syrup‘ and strain over
the apples; wnen cold heap whipped cream
over it. SJme add alittle lemon to the
syrup, or slices of lemon on each apple. So
many nice dishes are made with whipped
cream, one should really have a syllabub
churn, but we will make the egg beater do

Baked quinces -

 

service. Use what you have when you can-
not do any better, thus making a virtue of
necessity. Slice sponge and fruit cake,
Spread with jelly, and lay alternately edge
down around the mold, that new square
tiu will do, or a glass dish will answer as
well. Take one pintof rich sweet cream;
have it ice cold and whip with the beater;
it will become light, much as cream does in
the churn just before butter comes. Be
sure you do not beat it too long or you
will have butter. Have half a package of
geiatine dissolved, strained, and nearly
cold; now stir this into the cream with
two-thirds of a cup of granulated sugar, and
any ﬂavoring you desire—~peach is excellent
After mixing thoroughly turn over the cake
in the mold and set in the refrigerator.
Now this can be varied, so many dishes
are made with this whipped cream; glasses
can be half ﬁlled with jelly, or fruit of dif-
ferent kinds—big strawberries are splendid,
halves of peaches, bananas; then ﬁll the
glasses full and heaped with the cream;
these dishes are handy to make on Satur-
day for Sunday dinner.
BATTLE (fauna. E\ ANGELINE.
.___.__,,.___
LITTLE THINGS.

{Paper read before the Grass, Lake Farincrs'
Club by Miss Nelly Sawych

"Little Things’” is, perhaps asubject
which embraces a much wider ﬁeld of
thought than any one would suppose at
ﬁrst thought. There is scarcely anything
we can mention, but what is in itself a lit-
tle thing, or composed of a multiplicity of
little things. Human happiness or misery
is made up of little events, each in itself
insigniﬁcant. In every undertaking it is
the systematic attention to minor details
that ensures success.

To be faithful in that which is least, is
the high road to the ruling over much.

We must look to the littles, but on the
other hand we must overlook a great many
things. We should be careful not to magni-
fy little things until they assume great pro—
portions, as we are so apt to do. A very
triﬂing annoyance, if allowxd afoot-hold,
can make a whole family uncomfortable,
when if we would put it out of our minds
things would go on just as well, and we
would feel much better afterward for the
discipline.

Little things mean every thing. Little
words, insinuations and sarcasms innocent-
ly spoken have destroyed the happiness of
many a. life, but if in their place kind
words and sympathy had been expressed,
the result would have been entirely. dif-
ferent.

When the farmer begins to plow a ﬁeld
the task seems interminable, for the ground
must all be turned over furrow by furrow.
But ashe gets near the end and looks back,
it does not seem the task he pictured to him-
self, simply because it is done. So with
any unpleasant work that is looked for-
ward to with dread; if we would do that
ﬁrst, a very needless burden would be lifted
from our minds, and all have actual burdens
enough without carrying any unnecessary
ones.

In getting an education the foundation
in the form of the A B C's must ﬁrst be
laid; it cannot be acquired in a single day.

 


 

4: THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

An inconsistent father once said to his
little boy who had been to school for the
ﬁrst time, that if he could not read after
having been at school all day he could not
go again. He expected too much and of
course (as people often are who expect a
great deal) was disappointed. We cannot
begin at the top rounds of the ladder, but
must climb them round by round. and that
can only be accomplished by a good deal of
both patience and push.

There is not an evocation perhaps that
requires the patience and perseverence that
farming does. It takes so long for the
farmer to see the result of his labor. But
we can put up with tardiness better from
“ Dame Nature” than any one else.

Pardon this hint, fathers and brothers,
but if you knew how much help it is for
each one to hang up a coat, or put in place
a pair of boots, you would do it oftener, and
the mothers and sisters would extend a
vote of thanks, and say “ Keep right on in
the good work.” Those of us who are for-
tunate enough to have our wood and water
brought in for us know how to appreciate
it, and wish all women were as blessed in
that regard as ourselves; they ought to be.

——_——§w____—
AN EMPHAT13 PROTEST.

 

Here is my ironing right here on the table
but I cannot touch it until 1 have given vent
to my feelings. The HOUSEHOLD came
this morning, and of course I looked it over,
and what do you suppose I read in Evange-
line’s “ Home Talks ‘3” I found the word
“ alcohol,” and this is not the ﬁrst time she
has given it in her recipes. I have waited
and waited for some of the gifted pens to
admonish her in the way of wrong-doing,
but if my memory serves me right, but one
has ventured to object. Now she will say
“ Aunt Jennie ” is one who has been bitten
by the poisonous reptile. No, I am not; I
am a wife and mother, but the tempter
never has entered my household, neither
did it enter my father’s before me, nor will
it enter, disguised by my hand, in the shape
of cakes, pics, or pudding sauce. But I
have seen somebody’s boy dragged down
lower than the lowest, and somebody’s hus-
band has ruined home, fortune, friends,
happiness, everything, through its venomous
sting. And here is Evangeline, the one I
had always imagined to resemble the
"Evangeline” by the sea. with that sad,
sweet face—we used to sin g about her in the

old home, teaching Hetty to use ardent.

spirits in her cooking. Does she know the
kind of seed she is sowing? She knows
not what the harvest will be; there may be
a weakness in the taste of some member
of that household, and they may not have
moral courage enough to resist it, and the
Spirits in the food may arouse the lion from
his den, for you know the good book says:
“ The iniquity of the fathers shall be visited
upon the children even to the third and
fourth generations.” I am imagining
Evangeline’s face to be a little different
from the one I pictured a few years ago; a
ﬁrm, resolute face, not easily marred or
rufﬂed by the little annoyances of life. She
will say when she reads this, “ Well ; she is
some temperance fanatic ; probably belongs
to some temperance organization.” Yes, I
do ; I belong to one that was in the begin-

 

ning, is now, and will be forever more. I
also belong to one founded by man, and am
working for the upbuilding of the temper-
ance cause.

I beg our housekeepers not to use any
more alcohol in their cooking. Your hus-
band and sons may be strong, but some one
else maybe weak, and “if meat maketh my
brother to offend, then I will eat no meat
while the world shall stand.” There is no
teaching that will take the place of a moth-
er’s, and nothing short of some great, sad
experience of our own will undermine or
uproot that error taught us in childhood.
The rocks upon which other ships have been
wrecked should have a light-house with the
word “ Beware” blazing in letters of ﬁre.

NonvELL. AUNT JENNIE.

____...___

SOME THINGS.

Often after reading the elaborate and
long drawn out descriptions of how to make
such a lovely thing “out of adry goods
box,” decorated, covered, painted, bede-
zened and bedecked with ribbons, ﬂowers
and fancies, I have mentally counted up the
cost, and the invariable conclusion is that
it costs more than it comes to. It may be
“ a thing of beauty,” but certainly will not
prove a “ joy forever,” for wear and tear—
even time alone—soon takes off its fresh-
ness, and the disgusted owner and fashion-
er will bounce it as a “ dowdy nuisance.”
The same amount of money invested in a
good substantial article of furniture will,
with all its want of showiness, give longer
and better satisfaction. There is a fascina—
tion about the work of our own hands that
leads an industrious, ambitious woman to
delight in the creation of beautiful things,
andif she can name them as useful too,

conscience is placated, good sense disarm-'

ed, and she goes with ardor about a busi-
ness that proves a delusion and a snare.
But how much in earnest she is while the
working fever is on, and no visions of past
experiences are allowed to shadow the happy
present.

I feel competent to give testimony, for I
have “been there.” I cannot show speci—
mens, for every blessed one of them was
cremated long ago. One must draw a line
somewhere. I still utilize the pieces left
from home-nude dress goods, and the like,
sewed into form with the smallest amount
of cutting ; have even decorated some heir-
loom linen, homespun and woven nearly a
century ago, with an etching pattern, trans-
forming what was useless into a pretty
toilet 'set for a bedroom, where it will do
service and yet be preserved for years.

I no longer buy new prints to cut up in
little pieces to sew together again in some
wonderfully intricate pattern, with a high-
sounding name that the highest ﬂight of
fancy or the most vivid imagination could
place no likeness to or harmony between. I
do not wish to discourage any one who may
ﬁnd pleasure and leisure to pursue such
avocations ; I only wish to enter my decided
conviction that it don’t pay.

I saw something in this line once that
won my unqualiﬁed admiration. It was in
an humble home, where hard necessity kept
watch and ward. but neatness held court.
A little bedroom with a clean, bare ﬂoor was
furnished with an old four poster bedstead,

 

but it was the support of a nicely made bed
covered with a white cotton sheet for a
spread, a muslin curtain hung gracefully
over the small window, a dry goods box
was neatly papered with the same paper as
the walls, shelves were placed within, a
cover and curtain of the same snowy white-
ness made it a pretty adjunct; two smaller
boxes, cushioned and curtained, made ac-
ceptable seats, and there were no garish
colors to fade in the dust and damp.

There are some ladies who have so much
leisure that such things may be necessary to
pass the time away for them, I certainly
would not wish to interfere with their hap-
piness or enjoyment. Every mania must
have its day, and every one should be per-
mitted to ride her hobby at her own
pleasure. Some very busy women make
very little progress, and some very wise
ones have some foolish notions, and all have
various imperfections very patent to all but
themselves. So while we each exercise our
right to “ have our say” on such subjects as
we please, let us each accord to others the
same, and endeavor not to give ‘or take
offence.

If Mrs. Smith takes pleasure in preach-
inr expensive economy, perhaps Mrs. Jones
takes equal pleasure in selecting such ma-
terial from her cast off stores, and remodel-
ling it into garments that it will suit, that
some needy waif will have cause to bless
her hobby.

The new year approaches. Let us
thoughtfully pause, reﬂect, and resolve that
practical, earnest, heartfelt sympathy with
the people around us shall govern our acts,
thoughts and endeavors. So shall life put
on a broader, deeper significance, be better
worth the living, and mankind be the better
for our having lived.

“ It is not all of Life to live.
Nor all of Death to die."

INC LESIDE. A. L. L.
—‘.>-———

HOUSEHOLD HINTS.

 

Ar a late meeting of the Grass Lake
Farmers’ Club, Mrs. Rowe reminded her
associates that not only could carpets be re-
paired by pasting on patches where needed,
but that black clothing can be repaired with
neatness by using black courtplaster to
unite the torn edges. She had also discov—
ered that the unripe potatoes of the present
season have their flavor improved by mash-
ing them just before they are thoroughly
done, and allowing the steam of the potato
to ﬁnish the cooking.

Mus. Erma EWING, awell known writer
on domestic topics, says there is an avenue
to independence for women—or some of
them at least, which is little thought of. In
any village of one thousand inhabitants
there is room for any woman who can bake
good bread, to make a living furnishing
families with homemade, wholesome bread,
such as they cannot buy at the village
bakery. And this is true. A good bread-
maker, buying ﬂour by the barrel, and sufﬁ-
ciently mistress of the conditions never to
have “poor luck” can earn money in the
business. It is better than sewing, or
washing, or many other employments to
which women without training in any busi-
ness are glad to resort.

Wt _ WW , ,e.‘ a, w

 

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