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DETROIT, OCTOBER 12, 1888-

 

 

THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

li'h' ('lt'vA—Ii YE, IL! I} Y.

“ Rock-nbye. baby. in the tree—top!

When the wind blows. the cradle will rock:
When the bough breaks. the, cradle will fall.
Down tumbles baby and cradle and all.”

Rock-a-bye. baby! the meadows in bloom.

Lautrh at the sunbeams that dance in the room.
1‘

Echo the words with your baby tune.

Coo at the sunshine and llowers of June.

Rock-a-bye. baby I as softly it swings.

Over the cradle the mother love sings;

Broodiug or eooing at even or dawn.

What will it do when the mother is gone?

Rock-a—bye. baby! so («loudicss the skies.

Blue as the depths, of your my n laughing eyes:

Sweet is the lullaby over your nest.

That tenderly Jugs little baby to rest.

Rock-why e. uabyf 1i e blue eyes will dream

SWec—tesl when mannna‘s e} es over them beam:

Neveragain will the world >c’clu so fair.

Sleep. little baby. there are clouds in the air.

Rock—irbye. baby: the blue eyes will burn

And ache with the grief that your manhood will

learn;
Swiftly the years com».- with sorrow and care.
With burdens the Wee. dimpled shoulders must
bear.

ROCk-u—byc. baby! there‘s coming a day

Whose sorrows a mother‘s lips can‘t kiss away

Days when its song shall be changed to a moan:

Crosses that baby must bear all alone.

Roek-abye, baby! the meadow‘s in bloom.

May never the frost pull the beauty in bloom.

Be thy world ever bright. as to-day it is seen.

Rock-a—bye, baby-3 " thy cradle is green."
—-Lomion Reader.

———————«.——-—

ELMWOOD.

Within the confines of our beautiful city,
often poetically called “the City of the
Straits,” lies another, a part of it, but in
strange contrast to its noise and bustle;
yet like it, in that it has its drives, its lots,
its narrow dwellings, its crowds of inmates,
young and old. We name it Ehnwood, it
is the Silent City, where sleep the dead.

On my ﬁrst visit, I thought it the most
beautiful spot I ever beheld, with its quiet
and hush, so unlike the mad whirl of life
outside, the noise of which seemed to be
chastened and subdued before it broke
upon the stillness within the walls. The
entrance is through pretty gates, and
down a gentle incline, at the foot of which
is a circular basin backed by rockwork,
from which jets of water splash over a tiny
island of rocks, the misty spray being de-
ﬁned against the drooping willow boughs
beyond. At the right, the road crosses a
Instic bridge, on the left it follows the
curve of what might have been the channel
of a stream in ancient days, with high
banks now smoothly soddcd, and crowned

 

with gleaming headstones. Just before us,
a broad path follows the crest of the bank,
leading tothe level ground above. Large
beds of flowers are planted in the interval;
the left bank this year has a great cross in
foliage plants. with other symbols. There
aremanytinetrecs, which are well kept.
and the grounds are beautifully tended,
the grass beingr regularly clipped andthe
fallen leaves removed. ‘
Here he Detroit‘s illustrious dead. and we
read the names of many whose names made
Michigan‘s history. Lewis (‘ass‘s last
home is marked by a high marbli- sarcoph—
agus, bearing simply his name. in memory
01' Zachariah thzmdler. the "old war-horse”
inltepubiican polities. rises a single shalt of
polished granite at. least :0 feet high. whose
base bears the one word " ‘handlerﬁ‘ The.
Firemen‘s monument is the goal of many
out-of—town visitors: a tallshaft surmount ad
by the life—size tigure of a lireman in his
uniform. The lawn about it, which is de-
fined by hydrants. is like a green velvet
carpet. and the tlowers at the base are care-
fully tended. The Waterman monument is
probably the most beautiful and artistic of
any in the cemetery. It is a broad slab, on
which is sculptured a female ﬁgure as if
passing through the air. It is called “Pass-
ing Away,” and is the work of Randolph
Rogers, the well—known sculptor, whose
“Nydia” and “Ruth the Gleaner” have
so often charmed visitors to the University
museum at Ann Arbor. The hands are
claSped over the bosom, the face upturned
and veiled by a seemingly transparent
drapery which ﬂoats backward. The
features, beautiful in their calm repose,
which may be termed the repose of ex-
pectancy, are clearly deﬁned under the
veil, though one marvels at the art which
makes solid marble seem so ethereal. The
hand and arm are exquisitely moulded, the
bare foot most life-like. There are many
sculptured ﬁgures of Faith clinging to her
cross, Hope leaning upon the anchor,
angels with too substantial wings poised
for a heavenward ﬂight, but none win the
praise bestowed upon the emblem of the
freed spirit “passing away” from the
silence of the tomb to the happiness beyond.
The old Irishman, whose Sunday suit was
both tatteredaand soiled. took his pipe from
his mouth as he passed our admiring group
to say, "That the foinest monument in the
whole cim’try. Luck at that arrm, and
thim ﬁnger—nails! It is beautiful, ye do
well to admire it; it is most ex-cel-lent!”
There are a few quite old stones in this
cemetery, laid ﬂat upon the graves after the
ancient fashion, and whose lichen-covered

 

 

    

inscriptions are decipheraole with diliiculty.
There are a. number hearing date of de-
cease in the 30‘s; and William Brown. who
was born one hundred and ten years ago,
and was a surgeon at. Detroit when Hull
surremlered it to the British, sleeps under a
broad stone bearing his name. quite un—
concerned at the wonderful changes which
have come about since the "red-coat days.”
llene;‘:ththc inscription on the tomb of 2-.
deacon. who died when the century was
young. we read admonition.
’repare to nine: thy Hod." which to the

the stern

light-heartedgroup's who saunter by must
come with the literal t'oree of a voice from

the dead. Was it. i wonder. the will; of
tlrzt old t‘hrisliau that lot-.2: ans." 31.: had
turned to dust and thin“. the linens-ate

nmrble which to the world of to-d; y is the
‘ coll

the

only record of his existence. should
tiunc iI- want his fellow lilollzus‘ ol'
terrors o" lltl‘ .iuelgm tut lidﬁ'l’

llow human nature crops out in the
matter of epitaphsl Uue i read seemed
more a recital o;' the. virtues of the. living
than of the dead. .1 man notoriously un-
1n'ineipled and immoral during
ascribed the

tombstone.

life. is
saint upon his
marble." A name,
with date of birth and death, marks the
end ofa lil‘e most beautifully begun, that
of a young man who stood first alike in his
classes and in the hearts of his teachers and
fellow students, and whose eloquent
valedictory address at the University was
long remembered.

virtues of a

" Lies in

But it is at the farther side of the ceme-
tery, near the wall, as if crowded even in
death, that we ﬁnd the graves the most
numerous. Many are unmarked; most
have but small and inconspicuous records.
Here are buried those who own no lots, or
who can buy but a small space, "only
enough for a grave.” " Heaven must be
full of children,” I thought, as I saw the
rows upon rows of little graves, some scarce
aspan, so close together one is sure they
can never be lonely. A great many are
decorated with ﬂowers, a few common blos-
soms in a cheap mug or tumbler. or a bright
geranium growing over the still heart. Once
I saw a child’s rocking—horse, its gaudy
trappings defaced by storm and sun. close
beside a little new-made mound; and once
a china doll, without doubt the one cherished
possession of the little sleeper, laid upon
a grave. It had rained, and the bravery of
the bright dress had departed, yet the
sight was pathetic. Picture the bereaved
mother, poor, perhaps ignorant, laying her
baby’s best loved toy upon the sod above it.
as richer mothers cover little graves with

  
  
  

  
  

     

 


      
    
     
    
      
   
  
 
  
   
  
  
   
 
 
 
  
   
 
 
   
   
   
  
    
    

         
       
    
      
       
    
     
     
     
    
   
      
    
    
     
    
 
    
    
   
     
     
    
   
 
    
    
    
       
 
     
     
        
       
     
     
   

THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

costly ﬂowers. with that lmpe, so common
to us all. that somehow the lost may know
of the love that follows them into the Spirit
Land.

Is there a sadder sight than to see, upon
lately made graves, the pillow with its
inscription to "Our Mother." or “Dear
Father." the cross. the. crown. the sickle
and its sheaf of bearded grain. the anchor
or the"gates aiar." the flowers black with
decay. the wire. the tin foil. the string. all
the secrets of construction revealed, and
these stale. faded emblems left upon the
grave. week after week. So mourned, so
soon forgotten! ()r. alas for the frailty of
our nature. can these be left thus to show
the world how elaborate were the decora-
tions at the funeral?

As we. walked among the fallen leaves
and the declining sunshine of an October
afternoon, a funeral procession came. by.
the white hearse and tiny white coffin evi—
dence that some home had lost its baby.
Loving thoughtfulness had robbed the
open grave of half its terror, it was lined
with evergreens, and small evergreen boughs
Concealed the earth that was to be replaced.
The little cofﬁn was lowered into a green
bower, and then that saddest sound that
ever falls upon human ears. the clods upon
the coffin lid. the rendering to earth its
own, was heard.

As we rest awhile. in sight of these
gleaming monun'ients, half ghostly in the
haze of the late afternoon, one can hardly
help moralizingr upon the scene. Think of
the brighthopes. the glorious anticipations,
the happy lives. the useful lives for whose
being the world was better. cut short by
the reaper Death? Think too of the wicked
schemes. the selfish plans, the unholy
careers, ended. for this world, here! How
many have been borne hither, with the
bitterest pangs that can crush the heart;
how many followed with the sense of a
burden lifted! To this we all come at last,

here all our ambitions tend.
BEATRIX.

-———.W-———

HOUSEWIF‘E, SPARE THAT HAT!

 

'l‘here, Beatrix has been and done it! I
Was just about to rise and tell Mrs. W. J ,
G. many beautiful ways to use those plug
hats. but Beatrix is so generous with her
information and especially her advice,
when she can introduce her pet theory of
burning! I motion that Beatrix erect a
crematory for useless articles and charge
per basket or cartload, as the case may be;
but Beatrix, please guarantee your patrons
that it shall be hot enough to consume old
hoop skirts and bustles. I ﬁnd the stove
is not hot enough for that, and how out of
patience it makes the “good man” to try
to take up wires or steels in the ash pail,
when building the morning ﬁres.

It may be a pleasant and proﬁtable ar—
rangement for Beatrix to burn up all articles
that have become useless to her, but Mrs.
W. J. G., I have raised more children than
she has, and many times I have regretted
that I consigned to the ﬂames articles that
I considered worthless.

Any one living in the country, Where we
have district schools, knows full well the
thorough ransacking houses have for
old hats, bonnets, dresses, etc., at the

 

l
annual school exhibition. Last winter my l
little boy wanted a plug hat very much to
use at the close of school (and shall I tell
it, at one of the meetings of our Farmers’
(.‘lub'l. As my husband never wears one,
he was obliged to look for one at a neigh-
bor's. and an old hat was much more. satis-
factory. I think the real delight children
experience looking over a chest or garret of
antiquated clothing. and bringing them to

 

light at exhibitions or home entertainments,
fully repays the trouble of keeping them. I
know a lady who ripped the silk covering
from her husband's hat. (it was nice but he
had ceased to like plug hats) and had a
nice bonnet made of it'for herself. Per-
haps the covering might be used for some
ornamental work. for there seems to be a
place for every thing,r in the craze for orna-
mentation. 1 never had any experience
with plug hats. as my husband likes soft
hats best. and he wears them until I am glad
to take Beatrix’s advice, but I never yet
cremated one without a search being made
for it afterward. by him.

Evangeline and X. Y. 2., come and see
me any afternoon, you need not send word.
Stop by the way and invite Beatrix to ac-
company you. I know we will have a good
time. and am sure we will enjoy it much
better than a call.

Iwish to say to I. F. N. that I enjoyed
her description of the Soldiers’ Home very
much. I found I had a wrong idea of it, as
I had supposed it somewhat like the one at

Washington.
OLD SCHOOL TEACHER.
The (menu.

-——-——&OO--—-—'

LOVE AND KETTLES.

A certain young man gained the consent
of his lady-love to wed. He was so over—
joyed that he commenced to speak her
praises to every one he met, which became
almost tiresome. Before the wedding day
he went to see his grandmother, and while
shaking hands, began saying how lucky he
had been, how pretty, how kind. how sweet,
etc., his girl was. His grandmother said:
“ George, 1 always like to see the pots and
kettles bright and shining, and if there is
anything I hate to see, it is an untidy
kitchen. 1 must see her kitchen before I
pass my opinion.” I sat me down, think-
ing about the ﬁne feathers, the gay and
gaudy dress, the lily—white hands, and the
idea that when we are married it will be
gayer and sweeter yet.

Young man, when you go to see your girl,
do not always go with a horse and carriage
in waiting, but go sometimes when she
should be at the washtub and scouring the
pots and kettlesa and if she is cheerful
and even whistling a little ditty, you may
run your chances, convinced she is one
who will help make. an honest boy a happy
home. Remember you must be active too.
And girls, you too should sometimes see
the boy you love in his work shop or the
plow ﬁeld, and if you can get him to help
you set up the stove and put the pipe
together, you will learn something else
about him. When you get to keeping house
and he returns home “toilworn and weary”
you will be thinking about the sunbeam
that Sparkles so bright. the kettle of love
that is boiling, and with heart true and

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

tender, he will work as for one. to keep you
Contented and make a happy home.
ANTI—OVER.
PLAINWELL.

-. ~—«——-4.--~——~ -—

“' CORDELIA."

l Colic/ruler] from his! wreck.)
“ How would you like to go with me and
work for me, and go to school until you
become a young lady. then you could teach
and never carry any more water up over
the hills?”
“Would lbe dressed like them uns‘?” she
asked, pointing to a couple of young girls
who were clothed in white.
"Yes,” was Mrs. Ware‘s answer.
“ There haint no use of me a thinkin’ of
it. My step-mammy would kill me ﬁrst.
She might- let one of her young uns go,
nothin‘s too good for them. and nothin’s
too bad for me.” I’laving decided the mat-
ter in her own way, she took up her pails
and walked up the rough stony path, carry-
ing her load like an ox, never looking back
nor stopping till out of sight.
"0! Mrs. Ware!" we all exclaimed in a
breath: "' What made you? you surely
wouldn’t take that ignoramus?”

"I surely would,” she answered; “she
would be perfectly beautiful if she was
educated and bleached. Look at those eyes
of hers, and Such hair where it is not faded
by the sun: then she has the sweetest mouth
1 ever saw.” The lady became decidedly
enthusiastic over the charms of the little
waif, so we dropped the discussion.

Mrs. Ware was very eccentric as well as
very rich, and a great favorite with us all;
she was generous and unselﬁsh especially
to the poor, hence her interest in that little
human pack—horse. We thought nothing
more of the matter after discussing the
girl‘s looks and manner of speech.

We had fairly settled ourselves again in
the most lazy and comfortable way. had
become interested in our thoughts and
books, when the next we knew of any
foreign matter. was the sound of the sweet
childish voice in a somewhat higher kev
than formerly saying: “ Missus, if you will
take me I am ready to go; me and step-
mannny had a ﬁght on she smacked me in
the face, because I was so long a gitten’
water, en I told her I‘d go altogether, en
she could pack her own water. fer I know
pappy won’t, he’d die first; en she pushed
me out the house en told me. never to show
my face there again. Now if you want me
here I am. en if you don't want me I reckon
I kin go some’rs else.” There she stood. as
stubborn as a young donkey.

Mrs. Ware was amazed. She had not
counted on being taken at her word so soon.
“Why, child! I cannot take you in that
rig; with bare feet and that ‘old rag of a
dress. Have you no clothes?” “Yes, but
there haint no use goin’ after my tother
dress en shoes, step-mannny won’t give
’em to me.” " I’ll go with you,” said Mrs.
Ware. “Hain’t no use Itell you,” answered
the young donkey in the most donkeyish
way possible. Mrs. Ware started up the
path, ordering the girl to follow, which she
did, though every step she took was a pro-
test against it.

They soon returned without any ad-

 

 

 

 

 

dition to the girl’s wardrobe, nor would the

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THE HO USEHOLD.

 

3

 

 

stepmother give the girl permission to stay
there until Mrs. Ware could get some
clothes for her. So we held counsel. each
giving something until the child was in a ﬁt
condition to be seen by civilized eyes.
Mrs. Ware was a person who never did
things by halves. She took the girl home
with her, found teachers for her, saying she
would Show the world that ignorance was
not hereditary, that the “ poor white trash”
of the South were only ignorant for the want
of advantages. Cordelia (lid not prove a
very brilliant scholar but a very persevering
one. She grew in beauty. as Mrs. Ware
had predicted. After ﬁve years of study
and cultivation, she became such a lovely
woman that her benefactress was disturbed
for fear that va'iity would take possession
of her protege, but Cordelia’s great com—
'mon sense predominated. Mrs. Ware found
in a short time there was no cause for
alarm. What was stubborness in the un-
cultivated child, became ﬁrmness and re-
solution in the woman. Taken altogether
Mrs. “‘are was very well satisﬁed; also felt
fully repaid for the care she had taken
with an obscure, uneducated child, whose
life had been little better than that of a
beast of burden. Cordelia had not seen
her Tennessee home since she left it with
Mrs. Ware; her father died a year after she
left, she had no desire to see her step-
mother, but had often thought of her half
brothers and sisters. So when Mrs. Ware
went to visit her friends Cordelia accom-
panied her, thinking perhaps she could
beneﬁt them in some way with her educa-
tion, but she was doomed to disappointment.
Her step—mother told her “not to be a
comin’ around her house with her big folks
ways. She didn’t want her gals Spoilt by
book larnin. She couldn‘t read nor didn’t
want to neither; it didn’t take book larnen
to tell a gall how to make a pone or milk a
cow, en she was sure the boys could hoe
coahn and grabble pertaters without a die-
tionary.” I suppose to please the majority
of readers Cordelia ought to meet a mil-
lionaire, who would marry her and take her
to a palace where she would become world
renowned for her wit and beauty. This
being a true story nothing of the kind
happened to her. She merely went back
to the city, applied for a situation as teacher,
which she obtained. She taught two years,
then married a teacher and settled down
into one of the most lovely and lovable wives
and housekeepers one can ﬁnd anywhere,
perfectly happy in the love of a good true
husband. What more does any one want?

The spring still gurgles up in the glen
and runs down through the meadows to the
river, where it adds its mite to the mass of
waters. The same trees Spread their
branches to protect the fairy like nook
from the blazing eye of the sun.

The pathway up over the hills looks as
rugged and rough as it did that day which
was the turning point of Cordelia’s life.
The stones perhaps are worn away a very
little more by the many feet which pass

‘over them. Cordelia’s sisters carry the
water over the path now, seemingly con-
tented in blissful ignorance of anything
better. If any doubt my story, let them
come. 1 will take them to the glen to see
the spring, also to the little unpainted house

 

where. the stepmother lives; her high
pitched tones are to be heard before one
gets to the door.

She will invite you in and tell of her
children's precocious ways. ending with the
ungrateful stepdaughter's misdeed in de-
serting her home and going to live with the
“big folks" and trying to be one of them,

ADP-JUNE BlTlIL BAKER.
Moxsxsrowx. E. 'I‘ENNEssmz.

»————§09———-——-
WH Y NOT WHISTLE?

 

Whether A. L. L's article on whistling
and other things. in a recent number of the
Hovsnnorm. was written to provoke dis-
cussion or was the result of indigestion I
am unable to decide, but to that terrible
order of beings called young folks, of which
she writes. I would whisper so that A. L. L.
may not hear, to you I extend my heartfelt
sympathy. 1 would say (with all due re-
spect for real modesty in all people, of
whatever sex, age or color. and under all
circumstances) that I am a. lover of all mu-
sical sounds from whatever source they may
originate. Though not a girl of the period
buta woman so aged that my short locks
are becoming frosted by the hand of Time.
still when employed in the endless round of
household duties, I sometimes relieve the
monotony by puckering up my mouth and
whistling softly some musical strain which
comes to my mind. There is an advantage
in whistling over singing. you need no pi-
ano accompaniment. _ Narrow-minded peo«
ple are apt to be easily prejudiced; why it is
considered more improper for a lady to ﬁx
her mouth in a position to whistle than in a
position to sing I cannot understand. The
good minister who shocked the old deacons
by introducing a ﬁddle into his church choir
ﬁnally made it all right with them by sub-
stituting the word violin for ﬁddle. Dea—
cons of this stamp would undoubtedly make
pharisaic prayers thanking the Lord they
were not as other men were. Now I
think the difference (as regards propriety)
between whistling and singing as great as
between these two musical instruments. It
is one of the accomplishments for a young
lady to be able to drive a well—trained,
good-looking horse and it is equal to a game
of ball for adding strength to the muscles
and color to the cheeks. '

I confess my admiration for long hair;
when it is becomingly arranged, it is cer-
tainly an ornament to woman. At present
the prevailing style of dressing this much
abused article is not as ornamental as might
be desired. Judging from observation this
is the way they do it: First, to that portion
of natural hair which is long enough to be
kept from dangling over the neck and
shoulders is tied with a greasy shoestring a
huge switch,‘ the whole is then formed into
a beautiful coil which is fastened to the
cranium by the aid of ﬁfty or more rusty
hairpins, two—thirds of which are saucily
peeping forth from their twisted home; at
this stage the coil and its appurtenances
presents the appearance of a cogwheel which
has too long been exposed to the winds and
dews of heaven. Such a coitfure not only
adds the finishing touch to a toilet but is
liable to injure the brain of the one who
wears it, thereby hindering her from writing
well for the Horsnnom». I would remark

 

 

right. here that I could whistle quite well
long beforel adopted the convenient and
sensible fashion of wearing short hair. As
it has been my good fortune thus far in life
to d well in a quiet country place, I. have not
had the pleasure of being personally ac-
quainted with any dudes or dudesses, there-
fore I accept A. 1.. Lfs account of them as
a correct one.

As to ladies voting, of course I’m in for
that. I heard of one lady who said that
she had voted three times and no whiskers
had made their appearance on her chin yet.
Upon hearing this one gentleman remarked
that she did not keep her chin still long
for the whiskers to start. If said gentle-
man’s mouth had been examined there
would unquestionably have been found a full
set of teeth—each one a wisdom tooth,

Well, the world certainly does move.
“ Old things are passing away, all things
are becoming new." “ People are growing
wiser as well as weaker.” I cannot see in
the signs of the times any danger of the
world‘s getting in such a topsy-turvy c011-
dition as A. L. L. imagines, not if the older
folks set a good example for the younger
folks to follow, instead of ridiculing them
for their thoughtless ways.

H. A. B. R.
WEBSTER.
————oo§~‘

FOR THE GIRLS.

 

 

One of our eastern, exchanges thus de—
scribes “a plaque to be proud of,” which
any of our country ladies can make with a.
little pains and expense. The materials
for gilding will be about the only money
outlay, and these are not very expensive.
The gilts cost from ten to twenty cents per
bottle, the varnish :25 cents. anda brush
twenty or twenty-ﬁve cents. Such an or
nament is as beautiful as a picture, a hand-
some decoration for any parlor. And what
a charming Christmas gift it would make
for a city friend. to whom such woodland
treasurers are inaccessible!

" The autumn is a time of special delight
to the decorator, One of the things she
will do will be to take a dozen ﬂuffy
thistles and as many cat. tails, with a
smoothly planed pine board, to her work—
room. She will gild the board in dark
gold. Around the edge she will tack two
rows of rope. drawing them into a bow
knot at the left hand upper corner, will
fringe out the ends of the bow and then
gild the rope and bow in bright gold. The
cat-tails she will carefully touch in gold and
will bronze the stems. She will gild the
stems of the thistles and then spatter the
liquid gold over their puff—ball tops till they
sparkle like the sun. Then she will take a
bunch of autumn leaves and gild them as
near to nature as she can, leaving a few of
the dark green and dull brown leaves to
neutralize the whole. She will lay the cat
tails on the board, grouping her thistles
beneath them, and ﬁnishing with the leaves
at the bottom. She will tie the bunch with
a bow of coarse cord, and then gild the cord.
Theplaque is then ready to be hung up,
and is a credit to anybody’s room.”

An ornamental and convenient wall-
pocket is made by covering a large palm-
leaf fan with silk. If the silk is thin put a
sheet of white wadding under it, so that
the ribs in the fan will not show. The silk
must be put. smoothly over it. The handle
of the fan must, when it is hung on the
wall, be at the left—hand side, not inclined
at all, but pointing straight to ward the left.
A pocket is to be Shirred on across the fan

  

 
   

    
  
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
  

 

 

 

 


         

 

THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

 

 

it is cut rounding at the bottom and straight
across the top. At the top of the pocket
put a bow of ribbon; above the pocket on the
plain silk work, in delicate gray etching
silk, :1 spider‘s web. and at one side pin on
a. metal spider, which can be obtained at a
milliner‘s store.

The ladies who have “put their whole
soul into” a crazy quilt, have now the mor-
tiﬁcation of knowing their achievement is
to be eclipsed by the new “jewel patch-
work,” which seems an improvement in
labor and expense upon the “lunatic work.”
It is made of bits of plush sewed to a
foundation with fine stitches, and the
seams covered with gold braid, which is
edged with tinsel. A harmonious arrange-
ment of colors, blending with the glitter of
the braid and tinsel, is said to be “ex—
quisitely effective."

____...._____._
RECEIVING GUESTS.

 

Though long a reader of the HOUSEHOLD
I have never appeared in its columns before;
but now so strongly do I feel the force of
X. Y. Z.’s argument of September let
relative to company that 1 wish to give it
emphasis by openly endorsing it.

My theory {from which i strive never to
deviate in any essential) is to have my
table, with linen clean. set from day to day
with “ bill of fare “ suliiciently good for my
family, food appetizing, with such dainties
as my purse and strength will allow; then
any chance visitor or expected guest shall
be invited to it with no excuses from host
or hostess, an d a cordiz‘il welcome must sup-
ply other deficiencies.

If every housekeeper would make this her
creed she would gain much. The time spent
in preparation, the cash spent for extras, as
well as the surprise and unnaturalness or" the
children over the same, and an ease in her
entertaining born only of the consciousness
that she has a mind of her own, and is
“ master of the situation.” Of course an

independence of this sort must in part be
acquired, but like any other “ method” it
can be studied and practiced-until perfected,
to the inﬁnite good of any would-be good
housekeeper. FACTS.

Lansme ,
—————«o——-———

DISHWASHING.

 

Beatrix not long ago gave us some very
good advice in regard to “ Saving Labor.”
Among other things she recommended
draining the dishes, and suggested that
dishes thus treated might be quite as clean
and bright as those wiped on an average
towel after a day’s use. No exception is
taken to her statement, but the point is
raised that if dishes are properly washed
and rinsed, the dishtowel should not be in
an objectionable state for so much use.

There are many people who will “ slosh”
(no other word will express it,) their dishes
through a little water, nearly cold, let them
get nearly dry, then whisk a towel over them
and they are clean. All visible dirt may be
taken off, but to the touch, how rough and
sticky! If dishes are thoroughly washed
in hot, soft water, with soap added if
needed, and nicely rinsed at once, they
may be drained or wiped, and dish and
towel be clean and satisfactory.

Pans will often develop rust as the tin is

 

 

 

worn off, despite good care. A separate
clot-h should be kept forwiping such things.
Much has been said as to the material best
for dish towels. While good linen towel-
ing is the most satisfactory, any cloth that
is clean will fill the bill. Much complaint
we hear of “lint” comes from dishes being
wiped out of lukewarm water, instead of
having a thorough bath of hot water with
drainage. A. L. L.

INGLESIDI.
-————¢o¢-——-—-—-

HOUSEHOLD HINTS.

 

A LADY of this city has found that small
onions for pickling can be skinned very
much more rapidly and comfortably by pour—
ing boiling water on them and letting them
stand in it a short time. The skins can then
be quickly removed, and the eyes are not so
affected by the strong odor as usual.

 

LISTEN, mothers! If a woman is obliged
to do her own family sewing every tuck or
rufﬂe that she puts on her children’s clothes
is a crime. The hour or hours spent in
making an elaborate dress that baby will
look "lovely“ in is a waste of energy that
a mother who does her own work cannot af-
ford. Baby will look quite as lovely in her
eyes in a plain slip, and it he has only his
elaborate dress to recoinmeml him to the
eyes of others he might rather pass unno-
ticed.

 

Qumcns should be peeled. the parings
boiled in water. then strained through a
sieve, and this used instead of water in
making a. syrup for canning the fruit. Use
one teacupful of sugar to two teacupfuls of
this liquid. Steam quinccs until a straw
will easily pierce them. then drop into syrup
and stew fifteen minutes. Can the same as
apples. To make quince preserves, pro—
ceed as above, only using three—fourths of a
pound of sugar to a pound of fruit andl boil
till the syrup is rich and thick.

 

AN exchange says: "One of the surest
ways to save is to have every dish well
cooked, that nothing be thrown away as
useless. Were all the money saved that is
thrown out by unseasoned vegetables, un-
derdone and overdone meats, burned cakes
and pies, scorched oatmeal and rice, many
dollars would be added to the savings of
the house.” And this is “gospel truth,”
and a great argument in favor of learning
the best methods of cooking. To the above
list might be added the waste of not using
enough of sugar, butter, etc., to make food
palatable, so that it is left untouched at
table, and is ﬁnally thrown away.

 

DIRECTIONS for making a circus rug for
the little ones are taken from Babyhood:
Form gray canton ﬂannel into a six-foot
square. Cut paper patterns (in outline) of
all the animals you can—as the cat, dog,
elephant, rat, cow, horse, frog, rabbit,
squirrel. Then cut them from colored
ﬂannel, carefully choosing assorted colors—

as yellow, blue, red, white and brown. Use
button—hole stitch to fasten these impossi-
ble—looking animals on the canton ﬂannel.
A few stitches with black or white cotton
will form features, and help to define the
body and supply the shading. This is so
nice for baby to kick on that it will repay
the trouble of making it.

 

THE HOUSEHOLD Editor acknowledges
gratefully the faithfulness and constancy of
the contributors to our little paper, and
ascribes its success to the support it has
received from the wives and daughters of
the homes to which the FARMER is a visitor.
But she wants more letters for its columns.
There are many women in farm homes who
read with interest what others say, and fee
oftentimes that they would like to express
their own ideas were they but sure of avoid-
ing the dreadful waste-basket, that terror to
the novice in writing, and that their letters
would be acceptable. Dismiss such fears.
“ Don’t cross a bridge until you come to it.”
Some of the letters that please you best were
perhaps offered with as much timidity as
you yoru'self can feel. A candid expression
of opinion is welcome, whether in assent or
dissent to views which have been expressed.
We want to know your economies, in time
and money as well as it labor; do not be
ashamed of them, they are praiseworthy.
And if you know of recipes for something
" awful good," how selﬁsh to keep the
knowledge a secret! So let us have more
letters; let those who have written once or
twice write again, and those who have never
written write speedily. [t is a pledsure to
the readers to greet a new contributor, and
only the li-litor knows how warm a welcome
sheherseii' has for them. We want letters
on all sorts of topics suited to home. and the
family. descriptive, reflective. advisory.
There is room for all. \Ve ask, too, for
those items which come under the head of
" Household Hints," and would be glad it
some of our housekeepers would give us
some of their discoveries in that form; test-
ed recipes are ever welcome. We hope also
to hear from many of the new subscribers
who gave their names to the F.\i:.\Iun’s
agents at the fairs. The HOUSEHOLD ex-
tends a Welcome and an invitation to join
its membership. ‘

___..,_._.

Contributed Recipes.

 

SWEET APPLE Plexus—Take well ﬂavored
sweet apples, pare and quarter them. Boil
till clear in a syrup made of two pounds of
sugar to a pint of vinegar, with whole spices
tied in a muslin bag. B.

 

ELDERBERuY PIE.--Line the bottom of the
pie-plate with light brown sugar, then lay in
the slices of one good-sized apple; then add
two—thirds of a cup of elderberries, and more
sugar, enough in all to make about half a cup.
Sprinkle with a little ﬂour, add the top crust
and bake slowly. Although the mention of
elderberries will make some “ stick up their
noses,” I think those who will try the above
recipe will ﬁnd it excellent. I make my pie-
crust after Lucille’s recipe in the HOUSEHOLD
of Nov. 10th, 1885, and consider it ﬁrst class.

CHICK.

 

\VASHING FLUID.—-One pound sal soda;
stone lime, one-half pound; soft water, ﬁve
quarts. Boil in a brass or copper kettle, stir-
ring occasionally, let settle and pour off the
clear liquid into a jug and cork. To a half-
boiler full of scalding hot water add one tea-
cupful of this ﬂuid; put in the clothes, hav-
ing soaked them over night, and soaped wrists
bands, collars, and other soiled or stained
spots; let boil half an hour. Some pieces may
need a slight rubbing in the sudsing water,
then rinse and hang out.

   

 

 

