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DETROIT, JUNE 1, 1886.

 

 

THE HOU§EHOLD===§upplemenn

 

 

OR, THE WOMEN!

 

You are always abusing the women
As a terrible plague to men,

You say we’re the root of all evils,
You repeat it again and again,

Of wars and of quarrels and bloodshed,
And of mischief, be what it may—

But pray, than, why do you marry us
IAWe’re all the plagues you say?

And why do you iake such care of us
And keep us so safe at home,

And are never easy a moment
If ever we chance to roam?

When you ought to be thanking heaven
That your plague is of the way

You all keep fretting and fuming:
“Where is my plague to-day?"

If a Plague peeps out of a window
Up goes the eyes of men;

If she hides they all keep staring
Until she looks out again.

__4..___

How did they feel, I wonder?
Fairy princesses—

Sending their lovers through

Dang: r as strange as new;

Caves full of flames and thunder,
Fierce wildernesses?

I, of a simpler mind,
Own them above me.

Bear, I could never ask

You for the lightest task—

80 do I dread to ﬁnd
1 on may not love me.

_——...——-——

OUR CONFIDENCES.

That is a strange characteristic of the
human heart which compels it, through
same feeling which seems irresistible, to
conﬁde its secrets to the keeping of oth-
ers. The burdened spirit ﬁnds relief in
speakingof its griefs; we may keep our
happiness in our hearts, letting it sparkle
in the eyes and irradiate the face, but we
take our sorrows to another. Joys are
doubled, griefs lightened, by sympathy,
which is won only by conﬁdence. Sym~
pathy, in its true interpretation, is help-
ful, calm, believing, not more emotional
regrets and demonstrations. Mere emo—
tion is often mistaken for sympathy;
emotion is transient and unproductive,
sympathy is helpful. It is through the
breadth of our sympathies that we make
place for ourselves in the lives of others,
and are able to help and truly comfort
the sorrowing. But aside from this com-
mon and inherent disposition to share our
sensations with others, there is an impulse
which in emotional natures impels them
to speak of their deepest feelings, their
holiest emotions, even to part with their
most treasured and carefully guarded
secret in some conﬁdential moment. It
is this which leads the criminal to tell

the story of his crime to another, or to in‘
dulge in mysterious allusions to it, though
he knows his conﬁdence may pave the
way to prison. Hence we have the pro-
verb “ Murder will out,” recognizing
humanity’s disposition to share its secrets,
its inability to carry alone the burden of
its sorrows, its misfortunes, or its crimes.

Circumstances are often responsible for
our conﬁdences. Men grow conﬁdential
over a good cigar, it is said; while girls
discuss their heart secrets during the
mysterious process of doing up their
bangs. Most of us can recall conﬁdence
given simply through favoring conditions
of time and place, as the sequel to some
event which has disturbed our mental
calm, or when touched by sympathy for
another, and most of us, too, have lived
to regret our ill—advised disclosures.

There is a great diﬂerence in people in
respect to the cohddence they repose in
their friends. Some are like a glass of
soda—water, they effervesce with great
gush on ﬁrst acquaintance, but grow
dreadfully ﬂat as soon as the froth sub-
sides. Others have always some new
grievance to conﬁde, and are eternally
demanding sympathy and advice—one
soon tires of the constant drain. Others
again, conﬁde in you as their “very
dearest and best friend,” and exact repeat-
ed pledges “never to breathe a word to
any living creature,” and then make like
conﬁdences to a score or more of the “dear
ﬁve hundred ;” another class have no se-
crets because they tell all they know any-
how; they are human sieves. And then
there are the grand, quiet, self-controlled
natures, who bear their sorrows with
outward calm, whose griefs are unguessed
by all except the one or two who may be
privileged to enter the innermost cham-
bers of the heart; whose cenﬁdences are
given not with voluble and exclamatory
phrases, but in brief, broken words which
speak so eloquently all that is left unsaid.
These we may trust with our own heart-
aches, ﬁnding them ever “faithful and
true.” That is the ideal friendship in
which each can conﬁde in the other in
such perfect faith and trust that no
pledge of silence or secrecy is exacted or
volunteered, but each rests secure on the
love, the honor, the discretion of the
other without the slightest fear of betray-
al. .

“He who conﬁdes much, puts his lem-
ons in another man’s squeezer,” says Bo-
vee, and he expresses in quaint fashion
how completely one person may put him-

ous or over-conﬁdence. “Thy friend
bath a friend, and thy friend’s friend hatl
a friend,” is an Arabic proverb I have
quoted in these columns before. If you
wish to make certain that your secret
hopes and fears, your disappointments,
your wounds, are not discussed as com-
mon property among those who know
you, keep them to yourself, or trust them
only with the dearest and best in all the
world to you, whose sympathy is true
because it is helpful, who can lighten the

\heavy load by the might of love. These

only are safe conﬁdents.

Conﬁdence should be a plant of slow
growth; but what shall we say of those
people who seem to take the whole world
into their conﬁdence? A ~casual intro-
duction paves the way to a gossip about
themselves, in which they will tell you
the most minute details of their persona
history; utterly regardless of the fact
that the greatest bore on earth is he who
insists upon being the hero of his own
story. I know of a respectable woman,
who, having just moved into a new neigh-
borhood where she was unacquainted,
met a neighbor who lived in the same
block and without the formality of an in-
troduction waylaid him on the street and
kept him standing while she narrated the
events of her life for a period of forty
years, including the causes which led to a
divorce from her husband, and the “true
inwardness ” of a good-sized family scan-
dal. ,

A young woman you meet in the cars
will not scruple to conﬁde to you all the
particulars of her engagement to “Jim;”
you ﬂatter yourself that it. is your “ win-
ning way and honest face” which prompt-
ed her trust, till you hear her telling the
same story to a vinegar-visaged woman
across the aisle. She will reveal to a
casual acquaintance made in traveling
what it would seem adue womanly reti-
cence should keep for a mother’s car
only; one cannot help feeling there is a
lack of reﬁnement and delicacy in such a
nature, as well as a decided want of
prudence and good sound common sense.

If I were to give advice to young people
about leaving home to attend school or
engage in business, I should counsel great
care in the matter of conﬁdences. In the
ﬁrst place, it is not “good form ” to talk
of one’s self. We are of a vast deal of
importance to ourselves, but, after all, of
not absorbing interest to those whom we
meet in our every—day encounters with

our kind. They will measure you by

 

self in the power of another by injudici—

 

your work if they,have knowledge of it,

 


 

,1
r .

r-s.

INTENTIONAL SECOND EXPOSURE

 
   

 

 

“'i-Il'l‘iNUr FOR THE PAPERS.

 

I ti \ no! *
more Siftti‘r'tl than i the
saw one of ID} on cornpt sitions imprint.
O, dear. It‘noue'irt. w )-‘-‘-’ t iii the {st-(mic
who read it think; whatever made the
editor think it was good enough to print,
and how I wish I had not sent it! But
there it was in black and white, and I
have tried frequently since, with about
the same result and feelings.

But I set out to try to tell some one who
does not exactly know how to go about
it, the best way I know to write for the

El rs t

paper, so that the communication will ;
' good boil up once; let it stand over night.

not get into the waste basket. And right
here let me state that I think that many

i
l
i
l
l
l

the?» (V'SI' Was any one
Tan I

i
.
t
.

 

a good article is thrown into the waste— s

basket because the writer has written on
both sides Of the paper, or abbreviated,
or run the letters together so that the
manuscript cannot be read, while another
letter of less merit is printed just because
it can be read with ease. Write only on
one side of the paper; if it is note paper
spread the sheet open and write clear
across. Number your pages; be careful
to punctuate clearly; and put the capitals
where they ought to be.

The subjects and language to use Ican
give no advice about; the topics come to
me at odd times, sometimes when my
hands are in the dough, or as early in the
spring, when I was frying and pitting
the hams down in lard; but with me when
the idea comes, it must be written down,
or lost, and I suppose it is the same with
others.

I hope many will write for our little
HOUSEHOLD, for they surely can do better
than the writer, and there are many far-
mers’ wives with good educations, much
experience in housework, and bright
ideas, who could write if they would
only let their light shine.

Remember to dot y ur i’s and cross
your t’s. My nom de plume I write at the
end of the article to be printed; my real
name I write on a slip of paper and put
it inside the envelope. [ﬁrst prepare a
rough draft of what I am going to write
on a bit of wrapping paper, or anything
I can lay my hands on, then I copy it oif.

LEONE.

BIG BEAVER.

[Leone’s directions are approved by the
Editor with but one exception. Use com»
mercial note paper as the most convenient
size, but do not write across both pages.
It is easier for the printers to “ follow
copy ” across the shorter lines of a single
page. Just here the HOUSEHOLD Editor
would say to those who are conscious of
having good ideas, and would like to ex
press their opinions in the little paper,
but are deterred by fear Ofseeming awk
ward in composition, never mind such
fears, but write, and trust the Editor to
make any emendations or corrections that
are needed. We care more for helpful
ideas than for elegant diction. One point
Leone omitted is to use italics and quota-
tion marks as sparingly as possible.
Those who read attentively do not need
italics to enable them to see where stress
should be placed. There is not an italic-
ized word in any of the elder Haw-

  

 

T H TE 2543‘. if) [I S H) H O ‘L I).

 

 

. inf-"ne’s i>()=n§'i: his language is so appto‘ i
I“ in km‘ '1' .- lulitcd to convey “*9

1.4.x e zl‘llz’tst, i‘h‘tt littliCL‘s are Silp’j‘i‘ilil—

ous: titty nuv- been ““11"“ an insult to
the lil't“ll-_‘Tt'.'l"0 of ti. cadet ~ EDT
«,____..,.,. ,,._
RECIPE FUR H 1RD SOAP.

 

Seeingiu the HOUSEHOLD of April 27th |

 

or” wotd for relics hi the stove put.
down upon it with 2 liver as the legs are
taken out. Once on ::., board you can
rail it from one room. to another by re—

! placing the rollers as it rolls off them.

A LITTLE common Soda, on a dampened
cloth. rubbed on cups and saucers, 01'
turspoons, Will remove all the tea stains

an inquiry for dirt «ions for making hard i th it give such a bro .vn look to dishes that

soap. I send mine, which have been thOr~ 5

have been used a little while, and it does

oughly tested: Six pounds sal soda; three ' not cockle the enamel like sand,'and is

pounds stone lime; seven pounds clear
grease; six gallons soft water. Put the
sal soda and lime in a large kettle out of
doors; pour on the water and give it a

in the morning drain off the lye in a tub,
rinse out the kettle, and put back the lye,
adding the grease, which must be free
from bones and scraps, so as to have the
full amount. Then boil until it is about
as thick as strained honey. When boiled
enough pour into a tub, having the tub
wet; let it stand till next morning, and
cut out in good sized pieces, as it dries
down quite hard. This will be very white
and nice if the grease is clean. s. M.

GRASS LAKE.

-___.._.‘.._._..
HOUSEHOLD HINTS.

DICKENS SiId once that he judged the
quality of housekeeping by the condition
of the cast. rs on the table. We are not
sure but it is a good test. The careless,
thoughtless pers m is apt to let the vine—

gar cruets get nearly empty and
full of sediment, the mustard
pot " all stuck up,” the little

wooden spoon encrusted with dried mus-
tard; while the catsup and sauce bottles
fairly take away your inclination to test
the contents by their “mussiness.” Due
attention should be paid to these things,
which are lesser tasks, to be sure, but
none the less indices of housekeeping
qualities.

 

HOLES in plastering may be ﬁlled up
with a little plaster of Paris mixed thick
with water and applied with a knife.
Hard-ﬁnished walls may be washed with
soap and water and wiped dry. Dust and
coal sm »ke are removed from papered
walls and ceilings by rubbing them with
a broom wrapped around with a soft
white cloth; the cloth should be be chang
ed whenever it becomes much soiled.
Ammonia and water. or whiting and wa-
ter, are used to clean white paint, while
cold tea is employed on grained work,
the paint being wiped dry with a soft
11 mnel cloth.

 

WE do not think a woman has any
business fooling rouncl a stove trying to
take it town or put it up. It is a work
for the men to do, and though it may
Cause them to indulge in swear words,
that is not half as bad as the consequence
of our lifting to a fragile woman. But
there are some women who must attend
to such work, and we would remind them
that a bOard, wide enough to slip under
the stove between its legs, and long
enough to be haud‘zed easily, can be put
under the stove, upon two round sticks

 

much easier and quicker done.
__...__._.

Nor long ago a reporter of one of our
State exchanges mentioned having picked
up in the room in which a teachers’ ex-
amination had been conducted, a list of
the questions presented to the candidates.
The list was printed in the paper, and
the question asked how many of the solid
business men of the city, including
lawyers, doctors and others, could answer
these questions. I confess that in my
estimation they partook more of the
nature of conundrums than queries de-
signed as an index of ability, or test of
scholarship. Several were not stated
with that clearness we have aright to
expect from a Board of Examiners. The
idea of an examination is less, I have al-
ways supposed, ter the purpose of giving
hard nuts to crack than to enable the
examiner to arrive at a just estimate Of
the intelligence and acquirements, and
facility in expression of the examined.
The necessity Of writing the answers is
in itself an excellent examination in
writing, spelling and diction. Usually,
the person who is clear and lucid on
paper is equally so at the blackboard or
chart before the school, though there are
exceptions to this rule. Life is far too
short to learn all that books can teach us,
or to pursue into its intricacies every
subject of which a general outline is now
required of us. BEATRIX.

 

09——

Useful Recipes.

 

PICKLED EGGS—Boil the eggs hard, remove
the shell and drop them, whole, into hot spiced
vinegar.

SPICED BEER—This is an excellent relish
for a picnic: Remove all the bones from a
piece of meat weighing about four pounds.
Rub it well with cinnamon, allspice, pepper
and celery salt. Roll tightly and tie. Boil in
water enough to cover, to which has been ad-
ded‘one-third of an ounce each of ginger,
clover, cinnamon, allspice and mace. When
cold, dust oti the spice on the outside and
slice thin.

 

ORANGE MARMALADE.-—Slice a dozen large
oranges very thin, removing the seeds. Use
the juice of two lemons, and add water enough
to make seven pints. Let the fruit stand over
night in an earthen dish. Next morning put

it ina preserving kettle, and boil gently till
the orange rind is tender; then stir with it
seven pounds of granulated sugar, and boil
gently, stirring occasionally, till the rind looks
clear and a little of the juice, when cooled, has
a jelly-like consistency. Cool the marmalade
and then transfer it to glass jars or jelly glasses.
On top of each lay a round of pa er cut to fit
and dipped in brandy, and sea the glasses
with paper brushed with white of egg. This
will keep indeﬁnitely and is very wholesome
and nutritious, especially for invalids and
children. Miss Corson’s recipe.

 


 

 

 

DETROIT, JUNE? 1, 1886.

 

 

THE

HOUSEHOiLD==c§nnpplemenu

 

 

(III, THE

W011 E N I

 

You are always abusing the women
As a terrible plague to men,

You say we’re the root of a;l evils,
You repeat it again and again,

Of wars and of quarrels and bloodshed,
And of mischief, be what it may—
But pray, then, why do you marry us
If We‘re all the plagues you say?
And why do you take such care of us

And keep us so safe at home,
And are never easy a moment
If ever we chance to roam?
When you ought to be thanking heaven
That your plague is of the way
You all keep fretting and fuming:
“ Where is my plague to-day?"
If a Plague peeps out of a window
Up goes the eyes of men;
If she hides they all keep staring
Until she looks out again.
How did they feel, I wonder?
Fairy princesses—
Sending their lovers through
Dang! r as strange as new;
Caves full of ﬂames and thunder,
Fierce wildernesses?
I, of a simpler mind,
Own them above me.
Dear, I could never ask
You for the lightest task—
80 do I dread to ﬁnd
'lou may not love me.
—-——¢o¢—-——-——
OUR CON FIDENCES.

That is a strange characteristic of the
human heart which. compels it, through
some feeling which seems irresistible, to
conﬁde its secrets to the keeping of oth-
ers. The burdened spirit ﬁnds relief in
speaking! of its griefs; we may keep our
happiness in our hearts. letting it sparkle
in the eyes and irradiate the face, but we
take our sorrows to another. Joys are
doubled, griefs lightened, by sympathy.
which is won only by conﬁdence. Sym-
pathy, in its true interpretation, is help~
ful, calm, believing. not more emotional
regrets and demonstrations. Mere emo-
tion is often mistaken for sympathy;
emotion is transient and unproductive,
sympathy is helpful. t is through the
breadth of our sympathies that we make
place for ourselves in the lives of others,
and are able to help and truly comfort
the sorrowing. But aside from this com-
mon and inherent disposition to share our
sensations with others, there is an impulse
which in emotional natures impels them
to speak of their deepest feelings, their
holiest emotions, even to part with their
most treasured and carefully guarded
secret in some conﬁdential moment. It
is this which leads the criminal to tell

 

the story of his crime to another, or to in-
dulge in mysterious allusions to it. though
he knows his conﬁdence may pave the
way to prison. Hence we have the pro-
verb “Murder will out,” recognizing
humanity’s disposition to share its secrets.
its inability to carry alone the burden of
its sorrows, its misforzuues. or its crimes.

Circumstances are when. rt-sp~"~usibl:’: for
our conﬁdenccs. Men grm? l'flil'iﬁ ieuiiul
over a good cigar, it is ;.‘. "‘
discuss their heart secrets
mysterious process of doing up
bangs. Most of us can recall conﬁdence
given simply through favoring conditions
of time and place, as the sequel to some
event which has disturbed our mental
calm, or when touched by sympathy for
another. and most of us, too, have lived
to regret our ill—advised disclosures.

 

While gills
during the

their

There is a great difference in people in
respect to the conﬁdence they repose in
their friends. Some are like a glass of
soda—water, they eﬁervesce with great
gush on ﬁrst amusintance, but grow
dreadfully ﬂat as soon as the froth sub—
sides. Others have always some new
grievance to conﬁde, and are eternally
demanding sympathy and advice—one

soon tires of the constant drain. Others
again, conﬁde in you as their ‘Ver

1

dearest and nest friend.” and exact repeat-
ed pledges "never to breathe a word to
any living creature,” and then make like
conﬁdences to a score or more of the "dear
ﬁve hundred;” another class have no se—
crets because they tell all they know any-
how; they are human sieves. And then
there are the grand, quiet. self-controlled
natures. who bear their sorrows with
outward calm, Whose griefs are unguessed
by all except the one or two who may be
privileged to enter the innermost cuuznr
hers of the hourt; whose conﬁdenccs are
given not with voiublc and exclam:«.iory
phrases, but in brief, broken words wh1ch
speak so eloquently all that is left unsald.
These we. may trust with our own heart-
aches, ﬁnding them ever “faithful and
true.” That is the ideal friendship in
Which each can conﬁde in the other in
such perfect faith and trust that no
pledge of silence or secrecy is exacted or
volunteered, but each rests secure on the
love, the honor, the discretion of the
other without the slightest fear of betray-
al. '

“He who conﬁdes much. puts his lem-
ons in another man’s squeezer,” says Bo~
vee, and he expresses in quaint fashion
how completely one person may put him—
seli in the power of another by injudici-

 

ous or over-conﬁdence. "Thy frienc'
bath a friend. and thy friend’s fricndhatl
a friend." is an Arabic proverb I have
quoted in these columns before. If you
wish to make certain that your secret
hopes and forms. your disapplﬁmmcnts,
your wounds, are not discussed u; com—
mon property among: those who know
you. keep them in yourself. or trust them
only with the dearest and beat in nil the

world 7..» gym. when syuipxllr; 3» true
because it is helpful. who can lzglilaci the
rezrvy lib-ad. .iy the might of love 'l‘hese

only are safe confidents.

Conﬁdence: should be it plans. of slow
growth;but What sbal‘; we suy oi" those
people who seem to take. the whole world
into their conﬁdence? A casual intro-
duction paves the way to a gr‘issip about
themselves. in which they will Lt-ll you
the most minute details of their wersora
history; utterly regardless of ﬁre feet
that the greatest bore on earth is he who
insists upon being the hero of his own
story. I know of a respectal'>l<) woman,
who. having just moved into a ht w neieh<
borhood where she was unacquaintcil,
met a neighbor who lived in the. same
block and Without the formality of an in-
troduction waylaid him on the street and
kept him standing while she narrated the
events of her life for a period of forty
years. including the causes which led to a
divorce from her husband, and. the “ truc
inwm'dness " of a. goodsized family scan-
dal.

A young woman you meet in the cars
will not scruple to conﬁde to you all the
particulars of her engagement to "Jim ;”
you ﬂatter you‘rsdl‘ that it is your " win-
ning Way and honest face" which prompt-
ed her trust till you hrar her trillnzs the
same story to a v:negar»visagcd Woman
across the aisle. She will rs. Yuri to a
casual aﬁniuaintance made in trawling
What it would seem aduc ‘-\".L-Dl€u'lly reti-
camp.) should keep for a moth! r“; car
only: one cannot help feeling there is a
lack of reﬁnement and delicacy in such a
nature. as well as a decided want of
prudence and good sound common sense.

If I were to give advice to young people
about leaving home to attend school or
engage in business, I should counsel great
care in the matter of conﬁdences. In the
ﬁrst place, it is not “good form” to talk
of one’s self. We are of avast deal of
importance to ourselves, but, after all, of
not absorbing interest to those whom we
meet in our every—day encounters with
our kind. They will measure you by
your work if theyihave knowledge of it,

 


*2

  

THE HOUSEHOLD

 
  

 

by your appearance and manner if they
have not. They will not think less of you
for a quiet reticence about yourself, but
will esteem you more highly, concluding
you have either “ been away from home
before,” or are not possessed of sufﬁcient
vanity to believe your history must be as
interesting to others as to yourself. No
friends worth having will be gained by
an easily-won conﬁdence; they will accept
your lemons, but give you to understand
they have no use for the squeezed rinds.
The most charming people one meets in
society are those who never speak of
themselves. Only venture upon topics
relating to your personal concerns when
you are with those who are true, trusted
and interested friends, whose sympathy
can help you, and whose experience can
advise. You will avoid many unpleasant
entanglements, not a few snubs, some
undesirable friendships, and ﬁnd your—
self gaining self-reliance and strength
daily, making yourself more worthy of
the conﬁdence of others. Bm'rmx.
——-Q.,——
RELATIVE EXTRAVAGANCE OF
THE SEXES.

 

Ah! ladies, am I to infer from your
silence, and Bess’ very brief answer to my
conundrum, that our own faults are not
as interesting topics for conversation as
those of our brothers or husbands? Then
let me hasten to assure you that I did not
mean to insinuate that the sin of ex-
travagance might possibly lie at the door
of any of the HOUSEHOLD members, but
that we should be generous, even with
our advice, and who knows but a little
timely sympathy might help some dis-
couraged traveler.

My object in propounding the third
conundrum was to see fair play, and give
both sides of the question a hearing.
Arethe men so much more selﬁsh and
thoughtless than the women, after all?
In the course of my experience and ob-
servation, which though not extensive,
has not been very limited, I have seen a
few men—and only a few—who kept
themselves well supplied with tools for
«use on the farm, and were not willing to
provide new conveniences for the house,
or did not stop to think that they were
needed. And I have known quite as
many women who would spend money—
when it could hardly be afforded—not
only for conveniences, but in useless ex—
travagances; and it is my opinion that,
among farmers atleast, the women spend
more for ribbons than the men do. Oh!
I don’t mean that exactly; I meant to say
that as a general thing, farmers do
it spend as much money unnecessarily,
net is hardly the right word, but I
.ven’t time to study my dictionary for a
rtter one) as their wives do. I will
cept those who are the unfortunate
eves of tobacco. Am tempted to stop
right here, and deliver a free lecture on
that subject.

I do not mean to say that women, as a
class, are wasteful, or extravagant, but
there are so many little things that are
not really needed, butwe want them, and
they “don’t cost much.” Then such a

r
(s
I:
t
r
a

display of “lovely things,” in the shop
windows! I believe their owners do their
very best to tempt us beyond our powers
of resistance.

I believe almost any farmer would
rather wear the old overcoat, that is be-
ginning to look almost shabby, another
winter, than do without that new labor—
saving and time-saving machine; but
ladies, would not we be willing to work a
little harder for the sake of that new,
stylish cloak which we so much admire;
or a dress and hat that we have not worn
until we imagine every one is getting
tired of the monotony, even though they
may be almost as “ good as new yet.” I
wonder why it is public opinion seems to
decree that a man may wear what he
pleases, but a woman must be in the
fashionl

When Mollie Moonshine understands
these “dear creatures” better, she will
know that when amen is reading a paper
is the very time she must not ask him
to get a pail of water. Take my advice,
wait till he is in the back yard splitting
wood, and see how quickly and cheer-
fully he will start to do your bidding.

Beatrix was right. I found to my sor-
row that my plants liked tobacco no bet-
ter than the rest of the family. I am
making a fresh start this spring and
hope for better success with my window
garden next winter. s. J. B.

————-§.¢—_
WHAT “STRIKES” MEAN TO
THE WOMEN.

 

Labor troubles, exempliﬁed in strikes
and lockouts, have shook the industrial
circles of our great cities to the centre
within a few weeks. Thousands of men
have quit work because employers would
not accede to their demands for shorter
hours and increased pay. Other thous-
ands have been forced into inactivity by
the action of those of their craft who
chose to “ strike ” to bring their masters
to terms; still other thousands have been
prevented by threats from continuing
work, or from ﬁlling the places vacated by
the strikers. It seems to me none should
dispute the right of the individual to
cease to work for a man who pays him
inadequately, or requires too many hours
of labor; it appears as if aman has an

chooses in any legitimate business, or
take the place of another who has
“struck ”if he is satisﬁed with the wages
offered. Labor, in resisting the tyranny
of Capital, has resigned itself to the grasp
of quite as strong a tyrant in the guise of
its organizations, who compel men to
“turn out” who are satisﬁed with their
condition, because of the discontent of
others, and who order “ boycotts.” and
dictate what make of clothing, shoes,
carpets, they may or may not buy, and
assume to regulate the brand of Cigars
and the brew of beer they may consume.
Where is the laboring man who would
permit his employer to dictate, or even
advise him, in the least of these matters!
But my thoughts have'dwelt less on the
adjustment of the relations between

 

employer and employs than on the re-

 

equal right to sell his labor where he‘

 

sults of this suspension of labor and
consequent cessation of wages to the
families—the wives and children of these
idle men. The strikers themselves seem
to make a tolerably interesting picnic of
it; they keep their courage literally “at
the sticking point” by their frequent
meetings, where the most gifted speech-
makers among them recite the story of
their wrongs, and exhort them to " stand
ﬁrm against the tyranny of their op-
pressors.” Some of the strikers in this
city were pictured as lying on the grass
in the sunshine on several vacant lots,
while the smoke from their pipes formed
ablue haze above them; they afterward
had alunch of bread and cheese at the
same place. But what were the women
and children doing, since they have not
the consolation of pipes, nor the stimulus
of speeches?

The laboring man is not famous for
having a surplus in the bank to tide him
over a period of inactivity; generally he
gauges the week’s expenditures by its in-
come, and ﬁnds the ﬁt a close one. When
Saturday night comes without the ac-
customed earnings, the outlook is gloomy
indeed. The little store on hand is soon
exhausted; credit is sought of the “butcher
and baker and candlestick maker.”
Assurances that the “ employers must
soon give in” and all the talk. to keep the
courage up, will not ﬁll the children’s
empty mouths. Money is often distribut-
ed among the families of the strikers,
raised by assessments on their fellows in
other towns who are fortunate enough to
be at work, but among so many a scanty
pittance only is each one’s share. And
then? The husband tramps the streets
for something to do, an odd job of any
kind that will bring him a quarter, or
nurses his wrongs at a bee-cellar, accord-
ing to his disposition. The wife pockets
her pride and goes out washing or semb-
hing, anything by which she can ﬁght
Hunger’s grey wolf from the door, and
the children run in the streets, neglected.
If the strike is long continued, the land-
lord and grocer grow importunate or re-
fuse further credit, and one by one the
luxuries of the humble home are pawned
or sold, then the necessities, till often the'
domestic comforts accumulated in several
years are parted with in this time of
pressing need. Whether Labor gains the
point or Capital holds its iron grip, the
laborer almost invariably goes back to his
work again, in debt for rent and sup-
plies, and holding sundry green tickets
from the Knights of the Golden Balls,
which represent his household comforts,
and which he may be able to redeem, with
closest economy.

The result of a strike does not cease
with the renewal of labor, its depressing,
disheartening inﬂuences extend over
many succeeding months in the home.
The advance of wages even if gained,
very, very rarely suﬁices to oﬁset the
losses by cessation of wages during the
strike, even if counted for weeks and
months. Who then can blame a woman
for her bitter tears and upbraidings when
her husband announces a strike? It

 

means poverty. harder toil. fewer com-

  

  
 


 

- THE HOUSEHOLD

3.

 

forts, no luxuries, the surrender of the
few household treasures. and actual want
and privation in many cases.

Remedy? There is but one, and that
comes only with the millenium. It lies
in a mutual recognition of rights by
employer and employe, a recognition of
common humanity between high and
low, a just division of proﬁts. It is very
simple, yet the very hardest of all things
to do, the actual, living practice of the
Golden Rule and the “new command-
ment.” It is something we need never
hope or expect to see, in a selﬁsh, grasp-
ing world, but till we do see it,
Burns’ lines are bitterly and eternally
true: “ Man’s inhumanity to man makes
countless thousands mourn.”

___...__
A LITTLE LEISURE.

To work all day and be able to forget
fatigue and gain physical repose through
the agency of a happily diverted and de
veloped mental activity is a very pleasant
experience, and one which I am now en-
joying for the ﬁrst time in many years.

I look over the evening paper, make up
my mind which place of proﬁtable enter-
tainment I will seek, and as the walk from
our house to any of the churches or to
the opera house is short and never “lone-
ly and dar ,” am perfectly free to go
alone if “Gentle” cannot go with me,
and “ True” is disinclined, for again our
family proper is composed of a trio——
“ Gentle,” “True,” and I. Last Wednes-
day evening I went up to St. Paul’s to
hear Bishop Harris, of Detroit, preach a
conﬁrmation sermon, when a score or
more of boys and girls were taken into
full church membership. His text was
“He setteth the solitary in families.” And
in his sermon he drew the lines so straight
and kept all his ropes so “ taut " as to ad-
mit no idea, sentiment or obligation to
become a legalized agent in keeping the
number of homes below the number of
the marriageable unit—man and woman—
which he denominates the basis of all
law, order, government and social intelli-
gent life. The sum total of strength,
power and authority he relegated to the
man; to the woman (after marriage) dig-
nity, chastity, instinct, reverence and
tenderness. The unmarried woman he
passed by in silence, but not so with the
bachelors. And no doubt many a one of
"him” smiled grimly behind his mous—
tache as the earnest Bishop said: “ The
man who remains unwed, unless com-
pelled to do so by some insuperable ob—
stacle, is guilty of a great crime.” And
no doubt the old maids in the audience
drew a long breath as they mentally
ejaculated: “For once the man is hit
ﬁrst,” and as the event proved “ last,” also,
in this case. But the next “compli-
ment” that the Bishop paid to women,
struck me as being not at all ﬂattering to
their powers of discernment, or more
properly, to their instinct in regard to self-
preservation. He said: “Every true,
womanly woman will always ﬁnd some-
thing to love and reverence in the most
degraded husban .” That this is more
true than it ought to be, the most liberal

 

cannot deny. And yet, again, when we
look beyond the actual, the external, and
consider how deep and high is laid the
foundation of the mystery of the love
that can unite in an undissolvable bond
the secret springs of the lives of one wo—
man and one man, we are almost per—
suaded to withdraw our criticism.

I meant to have told you of three or
four more “treats” that I have enjoyed
within the last week, but have given so
much space to this one, and have just be-
gun what I would like to say of it. that I
will only add I have listened to learned-
words and deep and earnest thoughts
uttered by men who believe in Darwin’s
s‘evolution,” and again by those who
hold it in supreme contempt, by those
who love “the people,” and would fain
see them enlightened, prosperous, peace-
ful and contented, and who proclaim that
out of all this labor and capital warfare,
Nihilism, Communism and general dis—
jointedness of aﬂ’airs is to be born “the
good time coming;” by those who gravely
and candidly admit that the condition that
is to be if the momentum of anarchy is
many times multiplied, is not one that
can be foretold; and last. but not least,
by those who conﬁdently assert and stat-
istically prove the assertion true, that the
spirit of the Christian religion was never
so actively alive nor its harvests so great
in the world as they are today. Now, do
not imagine that because each of these
examples of eloquence of thought and of
observant study has been in its turn a
treat to me that I do not know my own
mind, or that I say “ amen ” to every well
conceived and earnestly advocated idea.
Not at all. But what I think or believe
is not perhaps of importance in such a
great caravansary of ideas. But this I do
see and am free to say: The great world
moves majestically onward; her heart
throbbing ever in unison with the stead-
ily advancing thought of her unslumber-
ing brain. E. L. NYE.

an.
——-...——_

A LITTLE GIRL’S IDEAS.

 

I am glad Temperance has introduced
the question about tobacco chewers; it is
a question of importance, and one every
young lady ought to think a good deal
about. Is there anything so disagreeable
as to have a man spitting on the ﬂoor and
stove? If the young ladies do not want
such a man around when they keep
house, they ought to make a resolution
and keep it too. A resolution something
like this: “I will not go with any one
who chews and smokes around the ladies
or in the house.” I think there would be
fewer homes in which there is a cuspidor
to clean. But they will not make such a
resolution for fear of losing a bean. I
am the same age as Temperance and feel
very sorry for her. I know it must be
very, very hard for her to lie or sit still
all the time, for I hurt my leg once and
had to keep still all one afternoon, and I
thought I could not stand it. I was very
much pleased when I read the article in
the Housnnom about bedding. I think
there is nothing a woman ought to think
more about than bedding. Now why

 

will a woman persist in washing and
covering and re-covering an old quilt till
it is as stiﬁ and heavy as a pancake with-
out soda. Beatrix says they should be
retired on a pension, and I say a pretty
long one too. I should like to know if
the red sugar commonly called sugar
sand is poisonous. I have heard that it
is, but would like to know for certain.

VIOLE 1‘.
Oxnnos.

[We would not recommend the use of
red sugar sand unless in quite small
quantities, and believe the green and
yellow to be positively deleterious. The
red and pink are usually colored with
analine, which is not so bad, though by
no means to be recommended.)

 

FOR THE GIRLS.

 

There is a great strife among society
girls as to which shall give the most uni-
que and original entertainment, and the
craze for novelty extends to other circles
as well. People want to be amused and
entertained, and she who can ﬁnd some
new way of doing this is voted a genius
until some one else’s achievement over—
shadows hers. One of the very latest
schemes for an evening’s entertainment,
which combines instruction with pleasure,
is named a “fagot party.” “ Fagot gath-
erers” prepare the “fagots,” each of
which represents acollection of songs, re-
citations, readings, essays, extracts, all
relating to the same topic, or having for
a subject some author and his work.
Each “ fagot ” is in charge of one person,
whose duty it is to arrange for the mater-
ial forming it, which he does by calling
on his friends to contribute. It would
not be in good taste, however. to call
them the sticks which compose the fagot
Three, four or ﬁve of these “fagots” are
arranged, according , to their “size,“
which regulates the length of the pro-
gramme, and between each is an interval
devoted to sociability or music, as pre—
ferred.

“Apron parties ” are a prevalent dissi-
pation east, and are being “ engrafted on
our western civilization.” They are
somewhat on the plan of our old “necktie
socials” in some cases; the young ladies
provide the aprons, which are exactly
alike, and each puts one on ;,the§youn g men
choose theirs as boys trade jack-knives,
“on sight and unseen,” as each is care-
fully wrapped in brown paper and secur-
ed with cord. A choice made, the young
man dons his and proceeds to hunt up the
lady who wears its counterpart, and by
virtue of the discovery constitutes himself

'her cavalier for the evening. Another
plan is to leave the bottoms of the men’s
aprons unhemmed. and oﬂer a prize to
the one who can hem his apron the most
quickly and in the best style. The strug-
gles of unaccustomed ﬁngers with needle
and thimble are provocative of much
mirth to all but the helpless victims.
Apron parties are sometimes gotten up in
aid of churches or for charitable purposes.
Then aprons of all styles and fashions are
made and donated by the ladies, and sold
by committees appointed for the purpose.
There are the serviceable kitchen aprons

 


A:

THE HOUSEHOLD.

  

 

which “ cover you all up,” the ample
white mull destined for wear over the
best dress at home, and the dainty crea—
tions of lace and muslin be-ribboned and
pocketed; aprons for little girls, pinafores,
Mother Hubbards, aprons for school-girls
and check blouse aprons for the small
boys, with captivating pockets calculated
to hold no end of boyish treasures. These
are to be sold “ on their merits,” and are
generally readily disposed of, the men
buying for wives, mothers and sweet-
hearts, the ladies suiting themselves.

And then, we have the very latest Bos-
ton entertainment, a " bean bag party,”
which is just the thing for “ lots offun”
at parties given for girls of twelve and
ﬁfteen, who are not to old too enjoy a
romp. An exchange tells exactly how
these parties are conducted:

“ Invitations are sent on little muslin
bags, with a few beans in each, the time
and place are written in gold letters on
the muslin. In getting up the party it is
necessary to have a board abbut three feet
longand two feet wide, with ahole about
six inches square, at a distance of nine
inches from the top. This board must be

laced against the side wall of the room
in a slanting position. Each guest on ar-
rival is presented with a fancy colored
bean bag, made of bright canton ﬂannel
or cretonne. The game consists in throw-
ing the bags through the hole from a dis-
tance of about twenty feet. Each player
tries in turn to do this, and the one who
counts the highest number of times after
six rounds, claims a prize bag of the same
color and kind as his own. In these prize
ba all sorts of gifts may be secreted,
anﬁs it is against the rule to open them
until the playing is over. Then the com-
pany gather together around a table, and
open the bags, and those who have drawn
no prizes may challenge the winners, and
so in single combat win away some of
the prizes.

“A very novel way of serving refresh-
ments at these parties is to have large pa-
per bags, made fanciful by dainty devices
on pretty paper, in which a number of
small bags are placed holding cakes.
crackers, cheese, olives, candy, etc. Great
fun may be had by makinga difference in
the contents of the bags, one may ﬁnd
candied fruit, while another looks in vain
for anything of the kind. Hot chocolate
may be passed to each guest after the
bags have been opened. Japanese nap-
kins and a few ﬂowers add greatly to the
looks of the paper bags; these may be
fastened on the outside, and may be
removed and used at pleasure.”

—--—-OOO—-—-

SCRAPS.

 

THE Richmond, Macomb County, R -
view says that at a recent examination of
would be teachers held at that place, out
of sixty applicants, only twenty received
certiﬁcates. Grammer, geography and
orthography were the rocks on which the ,
unsuccessful were wrecked. Can there
be a better index of the manner in which
the primary branches are taught in our
common schools than this statementf
Here are three of the educational founda-
tion stones so neglected that two-thirds
of those under examination could not
answer the necessary percentage of ques—
tions proposed as a test of their acquire-
ments. Nothing is truer than that there
is no royal road to learning. When we
try to rear an educational fabric without
a ﬁrm foundation on the ﬁrst principles—

a grand marble ediﬁce upon a brick basis,
which will surely crumble beneath its
weight. The purpose of our country
schools is to give instruction in the ele-
mentary branches. Every district school
ought to ﬁt every willing, attentive pupil
so that he may be prepared to pass the
examination required to obtain a third-
grade certiﬁcate; if it does not do this, it
fails of its intent. But the idea obtains
in most neighborhoods that “anybody"
can teach a country school, where the
pupils are few and young, and we see
the result of “anybody’s” training. “A
stream cannot rise higher than its
source.” When salaries are adequate to
permit really good teachers to devote
themselves to our rural schools, we shall
see better results. Generally speaking,
the inefﬁciency of such schools lies at the
door of those who would reap the greatest
advantage from them if conducted as they
should be, the farmers themselves.

 

AT once a result of and a reason for
poor schools lies in the fact that just as
soon as a prosperous farmer's children
get old enough to be trusted away from
home over night, they are sent to the
nearest village to attend the “high
school.” The revenues of the latter are
considerably increased by the tuition of
“foreign scholars,” as they are termed.
and they are often dragged along in
classes above their standing, tO' increase
the popularity of the school. Naturally
when a man sends his children away
from home to school, he wants them to
gain something they could not get at
home, and this is quite legitimate. The
trouble is they should not be sent away
until they have learned all that a good
district school can teach them. But
they are thus sent away, by their absence
the home school dwindles to ignoble pro-
portions, and the great aim of the board
comes to be to make the public money
pay the bills and avoid a school~tax.
For men are like sheep; when one jumps
the rest usually follow. If one man
sends his children away to school, his
neighbors are moved to do likewise, just
to show him he is not the only man in
town who can afford to educate his
family. It seems to me that every re—
ﬂective father might see the advantage
to be derived from a good home school,
and endeavor to build it up, if for no
other reason than to avoid sending his
children away from home inﬂuences at
an age when they most need judicious
care and restraint. It is only too true
that in many cases the educational good
gained from the village school is more
than balanced by the inﬂuences of evil
associates; many a parent can speak feel-
ingly on this subject.

MANY of the old men who now call
themselves pioneers, and whose names in
their manhood were synomyms for
strength, integrity, sound sense and good
judgment, received their only education
at the district school of the pioneer set—
tlement, at the hands of the school-
master of the period, who ruled by the
rod and the strength of his good right

 

 

the primary branches, it is like building

    

arm rather than the “ moral suasion ” of
f

a later day. The rugged life and the—
rough discipline developed character;
moreover those old pedagogues. with all
their failings compared with our present
elaborate system, were students of
humanity, and with keen eyes discerned
the individual idiosyncrasies of their
pupils, repressed or brought out as nec-
essary, developed latent talent by their
rude methods. and sent their pupils into
the world, ignorant of Greek and Latin
probably, but educated because dis-
ciplined by the educating process. Pupils
were required to “work out their own
salvation” then; there were fewer helps
and consequently harder study. Now-
days, what is taught is so simpliﬁed and
“ diluted,” if the expression is allowable,
that education seems a sort of “ absorp—;
tion by contact without volition.” In
our great graded schools, made necessary
perhaps by the increasing population,
and the demands of the times for a more
voluminous education, there can be little
or no attention paid to the individual
bent of the pupils. A certain amount of
work is laid out for each class, and this
must be accomplished by all, or they fail
to “pass.” But even a plant has its
whims and fancies; it will grow in some
places and will not in others; it has a
taste in the matter of fertilizers, and
pouts about its supply of water. And
when we pet and coax it, and ﬁnd out
its notions and humor them, we get the
most sweetness and bloom. And chil—
dren are like plants, they need to be nipped
a little here and pruned a bit there, forced
forward in this line, held back in that,
educationally, as well as morally. And
how are you going to do this in a great
school, which resembles nothing so
much as a farmer’s wool-box, into which
he puts the ﬂeeces from his ﬂock, and '
from which they emerge all pressed and
tied exactly alike, and diﬁering only in
the particulars of weight and quality?
There is no place where an earnest
teacher can do such good work as in our
district schools, where many who will
one day ﬁgure largely in life receive their
ﬁrst educational impulses, as witness the

reverence and esteem With which the
patriarch s eaks of the pioneer school-
masters. hen, with a bend in the direc
tion of natural and inheri‘ed tastes,
supplemented by special development in
special schools, we shall have men and
women who have not frittered away
their time learning the omnium gatherum
of the arts and sciences.

~——-——-”—-—-——

A YOUNG lady who occassionally
“drops into literature ” long enough to
write a few words for the HOUSEHOLD,
says: “I want to express my thanks for
the many good suggestions I ﬁnd in the
HOUSEHOLD about the fashions; what to
wear and how to wear it, as it were. I pre-
sume in the old days of rural life you have
appreciated the fact that fashion books
are no use in the country. What do we
care for a striped velvet train over a pale
blue petticoat trimmed and embroidered
with seed pearls? What use can we make
of the knowledge that Worth is making
up dinner dresses in a certain style; or
thagdparty bags are now made of satin in-
ste of velvet? But the information
given in that blessed little paper is all
that can be desired; and I dare say more
than one ‘ dowdy country girl’ appre-

BEATRIX.

 

ciates the fact.”

 

 

