
 

 

 

 

DETROIT, OCT. 13, 1888.

 

 

THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

BABY GONE TO SCHOOL.

 

The baby has gone to school; ah. me!
What will the mother do,
With never a call to button or pin.
0r tie a little shoe!
How can she keep herself busy all day
With the little “ hindering thing ” away?

Another basket to ﬁll with lunch,
Another “ good-by ” to say,

And the mother stands at the door to see
Ber baby march away;

And turns with a sigh that is half relief,

And half a something akin to grief.

She thinks of a possible future morn.
When the children one by one,

Will go from their home out into the world,
To battle with life alone,

And not even the baby be left to cheer

The desolate home of that fu’vure year.

she picks up garments here and there.
Thrown down in careless haste;
And tries to think how it would seem
If nothing were displaced.
If the house were always as still as this.
How could she bear the loneliness?
—New York Graphic.

___...____.

THE FASHIONS.

 

The newest style for ladies’ costumes,
as reported from New York, is the Direc-
torie redingote, which hangs straight on
the sides and back, and slopes away to
show the front of the skirt. But this is an
extreme which has not as yet found favor
with the general aggregate of femininity.
who prefer the draperies and folds of less
severe models. And rightly, too, for only
slender, youthful ﬁgures, correct in pro-
portion, look well in these Directorie gar-
ments; the fat girl, the girl with large hips
and square shoulders, the women who have
ceased to observe their birthdays, should
choosefmore becoming fashions, even if not
quite so “new.”

The foundation skirts are from two and a
third to two and a half yards wide, have
two or three steels, as demanded by the
height, and are simply faced around the
bottom, without pleatings. Bustles are
still worn, but the steels and bustles are so
arranged as to give a graceful sloping line
from the waist to the foot of the skirt in-
stead of the abrupt, shelf-like projection at
the waist which was worn so long and so
huge. The idea is to obtain a slender, nar-
row eﬁect; to do this the back draperies are
very full and compressed in narrow space,
and the front drawn far back high up on
the sides. All the draping of the back is
done in heavy folds from the belt, there are
no tackings or loopings to the skirt.

Braiding is revived as ornamentation,
and is often applied to panel, cuffs, vest

 

and collar in goods of a different color from
the dress. Sometimes the braiding is put
on the dress material as a border to a velvet
or wool panel, and vest. Still another way
is to set strips of braiding on a color, as
mahogany or copper colored cashmere, be-
tween the perpendicular pleats of the front
of a dress skirt. There are sets in passe-
menterle of satin cords, with or without jet
or iridescent beads, consisting of panel,
revers, and cuffs. from $8 to $16 ind above.
A pretty and showy black dress has a panel
and vest of white cloth braided in black.

The postilion basque now often has its
characteristic pleats in the back omitted,
and the lower edge prettily curved and
edged with a narrow row of cord passemen-
terie which extends down each front and
around the basque. Even when skirts are
severely simple the waists are very much
trimmed. Apretty striped dress has vest
of velvet of the color of the darker stripe,
and a jacket in front with a rolling collar
cut bias of the stripe which nearly meets
with the front at the waist line, below
which the jacket slopes back to disclose

the vest. This vest, though of plain velvet
in the model, would be pretty—especially
for a slender ﬁgure, in surah, made loose
and full. A very dressy waist has a velvet
vest with double rows of buttons, and
revers of astrachan edged with a heavy silk
cord. The vest is cut pointed and a coup}e
of inches shorter than the basque, the
revers narrow to the points which thus are
made to extend beyond the vest. I hope I
have made this plain, for the style was one
I thought very pretty. The skirt had a
border of astrachan around the front
drapery, which on the left side was brought
around well to the back, curving up so that
it was sewed to the belt about in the centre
of the back.

Broadcloth, Henrietta, drap d’alma, and
French cords, in the order named, are the
favorite fabrics for wool dresses, which it is
needless to remark, are every bit as fash-
ionable as silk. Broadcloth is the most
expensive, worth $1.75 and $2 for the better
qualities, but is 54 inches wide and less
quantity is required. Some houses are
showing a line at $1.25, of lighter weight,
to meet the objection against great weight,
but it seems more like a ladies’ cloth with
broadcloth ﬁnish than the genuine cloth.
These dresses are made very plainly, not
much draping, no pleatings, with ornamen-
tation of braid on the corsage, or avelvet
vest and collar. Henriettas range from 75
cents to $1.25 and $1.50 according to ﬁne-
ness; an excellent quality can be bought for
$1 and $1.25, and the more expensive goods

 

which has Silk warp is said not to wear as
well as the all wool grades. For 75 cents
and $1, and up to 551.50 you buy beautiful
drap d’ Alma in black or colors, a diagonal
weave which wears well; the French cords
which were 75 cents last .vinter are $1 and
$1.25 this season, because last year Hen-
rietta “had the run” and the cords were
neglected; they resemble what we called
Empress cloth twenty years ago, except that
they are reversible, the wrong side having
a twill somewhat like Henrietta.

There are lighter weight goods, in nar-
rower widths, at lower prices, which make
quite pretty dresses, but are really less
economical in the wearing than heavier
and wider goods. They cost as much in
linings, trimmings and making, and you
have to buy more yards because they are
narrower, and they wrinkle and look
massed even with careful wear. Plaids
are used again, principally in combination
with plain goods; see HOUSEHOLD of Sept.
8th for direcsions for making up. These
plaids are very much broken, and several
colors appear with three or four shades or
tones of the same color, combining in such
amanner as not to be “loud.”

NEW BONNETS.

All the milliners are now prepared to
show us the latest as well as the sweetest
thing in hats and bonnets, and as femininity
is always interested in millinery 1 am going
to tell about the lovely new styles I saw at
Metcalt’s, whose millinery department is
now managed by Mrs. Hutchinson, but
lately at the head of a large establishment
of her own here. Shapes are very varied;
almost anything that is becoming and with-
in a certain limit of style, is fashionable.
Felt and velvet are popular materials, but
there are many novelties which are strik-
ingly handsome. Soft, full crowns are to
be worn again, and the rich fullness of
ostrich feathers is a favorite garniture.
Many of the soft crowns are of felt or
broadcloth, beautifully embroidered, while
fabrics woven with threads of gold and sil-
ver or with the cashmere colors are very
showy and elegant. One very pretty hat
had a soft crown of folds of green velvet,
spreading from the narrow back, a front
formed of three rows of satin-faced green
velvet ribbon and a garniture of shaded
green tins, which formed a high full trim-
ming above the pleating. On each side
green plumes came from the back toward
the front, and passementerie ornaments in
cashmere colors were folded with the vel-
vet crown on each side. Another lovely
bonnet had a puffed brim of dark brown
velvet, a crown of what seemed a soft

 


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2 THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

brown felt studded thick with small star-
shaped ﬂat beads, which were secured to
the felt by invisible stitches; the sides of
the bonnet were of the same material laid
in folds. The trimming was of very rich
wide ribbon, double-faced, a satin centre
with inch-wide border of cords; this ribbon
passed across the back of the crown and
formed a careless knot at one side from
which two long loops were arranged to
partly cover one side of the crown. A
stuffed bird and a loop or two of ribbon
formed the front trimming. A very showy,
striking bonnet for a quite young lady was
a red felt, trimmed with shaded red ribbon,
and black cook’s feathers arranged on one
side. A blue felt with embroidered crown
was trimmed with folds of blue velvet and
an aigrette of peacocks’ feathers, which
were clipped to just the eyes. Feather tur-
bans and hats are to be worn again; one
very pretty hat was composed almost en-
tirelv of impeyan plumage, which covered
the brim and the upright part of the crown,
which was of folds of velvet; an aigrette of
impeyan feathers formed the only trimming.
A lovely evening bonnet was composed of
ivory white, soft felt embroidered with what
seemed a cord of deeper tint, the crown
raised high on the left side, the brim of
black velvet and a stiff black wing on the
left, while a boa of white ostrich plumage
was caught up on that side, back of the
wing, the long end being left to encircle
the throat, forming a beautifully soft, deli-
cate setting for a fresh young face.

Very wide brimmed, rakish looking Al
pine hats are to be worn by misses. One
of these, in gray felt, faced inside the brim
with blue velvet. leaving bare a margin
about half an inch wide on the outer edge,
was trimmed with folds of grey velvet and
white ribbon, while entirely encircling the
crown, except where the brim was caught
back to it, was a row of tiny downy grey
birds ranged closely side by side, looking as
if they had been taken from the nest, half
ﬂedged, and submitted to the taxidermist.
It was voted “ horrid ” at once.

Ostrich feathers are in full favor again.
Most of the wide hats are trimmed very
fully with them. Many of the hats seemed
to be furnished with ties, which, attached
at the back, are brought forward and tied
under the chin. We were told bonnets and
hats were not to be so “ altitudinous ” this
season, but the diminution in height is very
triﬂing. Trimmings are less narrow and
pointed than last season, however, and
hence more generally becoming.

In looking at these charming “ creations”
—-and also at the ladies who were trying
them on and ” taking pains about it, too—”
I was forcibly reminded of what the court-
eous Frenchman whose artistic perceptions
of beauty and style, and ﬁtness—which is
but another name for style—caused him
often to be consulted on the soul-absorbing
topic of dress by his lady friends, says:

“Ze madame and ze charming daughter
come to me. ‘Ah,’ they say, ‘such taste
you haf l You must come with us. We go
to buy some bonnets.’ Vet-rec good. We
go. I zee—ah mon Dieu—zuch a heavenly
creation—white, with touches and ﬂashes
of blue. Mademoiselle, she puts it on. Ze
blue eyes and pink checks are ra-a-diant,

 

Ze golden hair puffs up over ze rim. Divine!

“Madame zees it and calls out, ‘Let me,
ah, let me put it on !’

“ Zee skin ees yellow and dragged, ze
hair ees gray-black, ze eyes are hollow, ze
lips blue. Ciel! What a par-rody.

“ I shake my head. What would you
say, Madame, ange-ry. I point with the
little ﬁngare to a beautiful tan crepe near
by with a dash of ﬂame on its rim—joost zee
thing. Ah, no, ze daughter look ze
pr-rettiest. She must haf like zee daughter!

“ Such I zee ees the matter with many—
zee ladies do not buy with their age. It
becomes ze daughter—ze mother must also
haf. Zee ladies must learn to buy with ze
age.”

I have come to think of not a few middle-
aged women I see upon our streets and who
seem to believe the Florida water of their
toilet tables is from Ponce de Leon’s foun-
tain of perpetual youth, “She did not buy
with her age;” and feel sometimes a sym-
pathy with Miss Emerson, who, when she
was in her eighty-fourth year, reproved the
mother of Henry Thoreau, who called upon
her wearing a bonnet with ties of brilliant
color and magniﬁcent proportions in these
words: “ I closed my eyes during your call,
Mrs. Thoreau, because I did not wish to
look upon the ribbons you are wearing. so
unsuitable to a child of God and a person
of your years.” BEATBIX.

.——...———-

CROCHETED WORK.

 

Work infant’s bootees with Saxony wool,
in Afghan stitch, with which all are very
likely familiar. They are worked in three
pieces, the sole, the upper and the heel,
which are joined when ﬁnished. Begin the
sole with a foundation of seven stitches.
Afghan stitch is worked to and fro on a
rather long crochet hook, taking up loops in
the ﬁrst or forward part of the row and
working them off going back.

Take a loop through each of the six
stitches, and before the last, making seven
in all; work off the last loop singly, then
work off two and two, to the end. Work
24 rows for the sole; in the second and
third widen one stitch on both sides, and in
the ninth row narrow on both sides. Widen
one stitch each in the 12th and um rows
and narrow one stitch each in the 2lst, 23rd
and 24th rows. Next work the toe; begin-
ning with 11 stitches work 23 rows. In the
2nd, 3rd, 4th, 9th, 12th and 13th rows
widen one stitch both sides, and in the last
eight rows narrow one stitch both sides.
Begin the heel at the lower edge with 45
stitches and work 12 rows without increas-
ing or decreasing. Then follows an open
row for a ribbon or cord. Now ﬁnish the
top with nine rows in a pattern of raised
dots, star stitch or any pretty stitch. Edge
the top and front edges of the heel part
with a row of single crochet in white silk.
Overseam the front to the sole, then join on
the heel, lapping it over the front on the
sides. Then white silk is put on in her-
ring-bone pattern.

Another baby’s boot is made as follows:
Make a chain of nine stitches, turn and
work into the ﬁrst from the hook. Double
crochet into every loop and in the middle
stitch you must always increase by making

 

three into one. Crochet into the back part
of the loop in the second row so as to make
the work run in even ridges. Every row is
the same, always increasing in the middle
stitch by making three into one. When 10
ridges are done, begin the side by working
the ﬁrst 11 stitches back and forth for 28
rows or 14 ridges. Now fasten this to the
front part.‘ Sole: Make a chain of 22
stitches and work in Afghan stitch. In-
crease at the beginning and end of each
row for six rows; three rows without in-
crease, then decrease six rows. Sew the
sole to the boot. Take up 40 stitches in
white for the leg. ﬁrst doubling back the
three-cornered ﬂap and tacking it down.
Do three rounds in double crochet. Fourth
round * D. 0., two chain. miss one loop,
work into the next loop. Repeat from
star. Nine more rounds in double crochet.
Work a scallop for the edge as follows:
One single, one treble, one chain, one treble
into the next loop, not missing any loop.
Repeat. Now run in ribbon and fasten
bow on lappet.

Crocheted Baby’s Skirt—One and one-
half ounces white Berlin wool; medium
sized hook. Make a chain of 156 Stitches,
unite with a treble. First round four trebles
then * three all into one loop, ﬁve trebles,
miss two loops, ﬁve trebles. Repeat from
star. There ought to be 12 of these scal-
lops, each divided by the hole which the
missing of two loops forms. Repeat the
above for 12 rounds. Thirteenth round:
Miss three loops and do four trebles instead
of ﬁve; repeat. Fourteenth: Miss two loops
and do four trebles; repeat. Fifteenth:
Like 14th. Sixteenth: Miss four loops,
three trebles; repeat. Seventeenth: Miss
two loops, three trebles; repeat. Work two
more rounds in same manner. Twentieth
round: Treble crochet into every loop. Put
on a band or knitt. d waist.

Pretty fancy stitch for various purposes:
Makea chain any length. First and sec-
ond rows Afghan; third, raise the ﬁrst, *
raise the next, then raise the one under-
neath, pull the wool through this lower one,
then through the next two loops, then one
chain. Rrise the next stitch as usual. Re-
peat. Two rows Afghan. Repeat third
row. Ladies, try this, and reprort.

Fonus'r Lopes. MILL MINNIE.

-—--———ooo————

THE CHAUTAUQUA CIRCLE.

 

The Chautauqua Literary and Scientiﬁc
Circle has had a marvelous growth in
Michigan, numbering now nearly 5,000
members and still increasing. It is one of
the most useful organizations of this age,
and everywhere cultivates a taste for pure
and better literature, exalts learning and
promotes a better home and social life.
Such an organization is now much required
to make us more intelligent, discriminating
in the books we read, and to aid in counter-
acting the hurtful inﬂuences of social dis-
sipation. There ought to be a circle in
every neighborhood to proﬁtably utilize the
long winter evenings most delightfully
with readings and circle meetings. Mr.
John M. Hall, of Flint, Mich., is superin-
tendent of this department, and will send
circulars of information to all who write
him.

 

 


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|v‘v—.

UF‘I'

 

 

 

THE HOUSEHOLD. 3

ﬂ

 

ABUSES OF LANGUAGE.

 

[Paper written by Miss Julia Ball and read by
Hrs. E. N. Ball at tn~ September meeting of the
Webster Farmers’ Club.1

From the time when Adam and Eve
dWelt in the Garden of Eden up to the
present day, language has been to a greater
or less extent constantly abused. The ﬁrst
known instance of this abuse was when the
serpent so wickedly tempted Eve to eat of
the forbidden fruit; for surely, it is an
abuse of language to use it for an evil
purpose. While on the subject 1 may be
allowed to say, that the opinion prevalent
among men that Eve was at fault in the
matter is an entirely erroneous one, and
unworthy to be entertained. The blame
most assuredly belongs to the serpent.
This instance may be called the fountain
head whence spring the many abuses of
language, heard on all sides, and at all
times; also the origin of ill manners. For
oughtn’t Eve to have at least offered the
apple to Adam before tasting thereof her-

self?
How shamefully we hear our language

abused by those who use it profanely; as is
done by so many men and boys, and some
women and girls! It becomes a common,
or only manner of talking to some people.
It is apparently utterly impossible for such
to say a single sentence without one or
more oaths in it. And far worse does it
scund to accidentally hear one who is a
minister of the gospel use such language, as
I have known of their doing. If such lan-
guage is right, why do not our ministers
use it in their sermons?

The use of slang is another abuse of lan-
guage, and need I say a very common one?
Nor is the use of slang, as is thought by
some, conﬁned to that class of society
known as the “ small boy.” Nay, we have
our aesthetic slang used by the too utterly ex-
quisite youths and maidens of our land—and
I am not quite sure that this aesthetic slang
is preferable to its more vulgar relative——
the slang of the “ small boy.” Surely, un-
happy Hamlet would never have exclaimed:
” O that this too too solid ﬂesh would melt,”
had he but known how his words were to
be aped by these lunatics of the nineteenth
century. You can scarcely talk with a per-
son ten minutes in these days. without
hearing at least one slang expression, and
generally more. But let us stop a moment
and see what slang is and where the expres-
sions originate.

Slang, according to Webster, is vile, low,
or ribald language; the cant of sharpers or
of the vulgar. It was formerly used only
by the vulgar; but at the present time it is
used by nearly all, whether educated or not.
I even heard a learned professor in a fare-
well address to the graduating class and
school, when after making an important
remark. which he wished to be remembered,
say, “And don’t you forget it.” What is
there about the preceding remark that
causes it to be a slang phrase? 1t is mrrect
grammatically and otherwise. It is slang
simply because people have made it so.
Many phrases which are to-day considered
slang are no more slang than the above;
only by custom. But others which are cor-
rect forms of language, have no such mean-
ing as is applied to them, except when used
as slang. Others are vulgar bath in sound

 

and meaning; for instance, if a person likes
a thing very much, instead of saying so in
common language, some would say, “I like
that just as hard,” or something similar.

I have seen persons who seemed to pride
themselves on the great number of slang
phrases they could use in common conver-
sation; not among the uneducated simply,
but among the educated as well. Their
conversation sounds about like the follow-
ing paragraph from J. G. Holland on Slang.
only on different subjects. Holland says:
“ If a young man should ‘ kind 0’ shine up
to you,’ and you should ‘cotton to him,’
and he should hear you say, ‘ My goodness,’
or ‘ I vow,’ or ‘ Go it, Betsey, I’ll hold your
bonnet,’ or ‘ give him particular ﬁts,’ etc.,
he would pretty certainly ‘ evaporate.’ ”

Another abuse of language, the last which
I will mention, is puns. A pun is the name
given to a play upon words. The wit lies
in the equivocal sense of some particular
expression, by means of which an incon-
gruous, and therefore ludicrous idea is
unexpectedly shot into the sentence. For
example, a Massachusetts lady complain-
ing to a friend that her husband (whose
business had taken him to the far West)
constantly sent her letters ﬁlled with ex-
pressions of endearment but no money,
was told, by way of comfort, that he was
giving her a proof of his unremitting affec-
tion.

A noted punster was once asked with
reference to Carlyle’s writings, “if he did
not like to expatiate in such a ﬁeld.” “ No,”
was the felicitous rejoinder. “ I can’t get
over the style (stile).”

Now a pun is in itself a very innocent
thing, and it may be asked, wherein lies the
abuse. But if we stop a moment to think,
perhaps we shall see. A pun repeated is
apt to be stale and unproﬁtable; and it is
very seldom indeed that an originally good
pun escapes repetition. Even this would
not be so great an evil if the repetition were
made by some one gifted in that direction;
but many persons seem to have a special
gift in spelling a good pun in trying to
repeat it. Perhaps then we may modify

'our ﬁrst statement, and say that another

and a very objectionable abuse of language
is the repeated pun. Let it be abolished by
all means. The reform of these abuses
must begin somewhere, and why not here?

___—..Q._—_.

ABOUT THE STOVES.

 

My Argand base-burner stood in a corner
of the stairway all summer, and when it
came time to put it up this fall it sadly
needed a polishing. To reach a place
where a man could do the work to his ease
and satisfaction the stove would have to be
carried down the narrow back stairs to the
back porch, and brought back again
set up. That would mean two men to lift,
and a dollar and a half of my hard earned
greenbacks to pay for their muscle. Some-
how while I was pondering the matter the
refrain of an old nursery ditty I used to tell
the children kept ringing in my ears:
“ ‘l’ll do it myself,’ said the Little Red
Hen.” The more I thought about it the
more I thought I would do it myself. And
I did. I polished oil? that stove in ﬁne
shape, so that it did credit to the Rising
Sun polish I applied. I did not want the

 

dust in the room, so 1 left the stove where
it was, spread papers around and under it,
put on a big apron and an old pair of kid
gloves, and went at it. And 1 did not get
a drop of the blacking on the ﬂoor nor on
the walls, though the stove was in the
corner within six inches of the wall on two
sides. Patience and carefulness did it,
better than a “horrid man” would, but I
was glad enough to have one of the latter
put it in place, which was done with an
easy exertion of strength I coveted.

I have blackened a stove before, and
knew how, but will confess I never per—
formed the task so quickly and easily as
this time, although the iron was of course
cold. I think the secret was the fact that
I wet the polish only enough to make it
like very thick cream—Jersey cream, ruh-
bed over a considerable portion at once, let
the moisture evaporate, then applied
“elbow grease friction,” producing a
“ shine ” speedily. I had heretofore made
the polish thinner, and been obliged to
work the polisher more vigorously.

The mica was cleaned as bright as new
with a little dilute ammonia; and the nickel
brightened with whiting mixed with kero-
sene—l believe alcohol would be just as
good and not so disagreeable—applied with
a cloth and rubbed off and polished with a
dry one.

By accident the ornamental urn on too
of the stove was broken late last spring;
the stove looked as if it had lost its head.
I thought then we would have a new square
Art Garland this fall, but “ Old Hutch’s ”
corner on wheat does not affect our business,
therefore there seemed to be no “ margin ”
for the purchase. By applying to a hard-
ware merchant who handles the Argand
stoves I learned the broken piece could be
replaced by ordering from the eastern works
where the stoves are manufactured, and at
an expense of two dollars my stove is as
good as new again. This I consider worth
knowing. as many good heaters are an-
nually discarded because of some accident,
or because some portion is burned out. The
second hand dealers buy them for a song,
order the castings required, and ﬁt them up
and sell them at a hundred per cent proﬁt.
It is necessary, in ordering repairs, to give
the name and number of the stove, and
also the year in which it was made; and I
see no reason why any one living in the
country could not order repairs direct from
the manufacturers if their local dealer did
not deal in that particular make-

1 consider a good base-burner the best
friend one can have during our long
winters. The heat is much more even than
can be obtained from wood ﬁres, and main-
tained at any desired temperature with
much less trouble and litter. And what
comfort to come back, after an afternoon
or evening’s absence, to a nice warm house
and a ﬁre that only needs a shake and a
damper turned to brighten up and give out
its genial warmth. I have kept a ﬁre for
three days in an unused room, with the ex-
penditure of one scuttle-fol of coal, by

simply raking out the ashes in front enough
to create a little draft.

If you are hesitating about discarding a
a wood stove and buying a base-burner,
and will take my advice, you cannot do so
too quickly. L. c.

Dnrnorr.

 


   
    
  
 
  
  
   
  
  
   
  
  
  
 
  
  
  
   
    
   
 
  
  
  
 
 
 
  
 
  
  
 
 
   
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
  
   
     
  
 
  
  
 
 
  
 
  
 
  
  
  
   
  
   
  
 
  
  
  
   
  
   

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4: THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

SCRAPS.

THE essay on Hospitality, in the House-
HOLD of Sept. 22nd, touches a topic of con-
siderable interest to the social world. The
entertainment of guests nowdays is felt to
be a privilege. to be extended by the person
who entertains. rather than claimed by
strangers or casual acquaintances as aright.
1n the more simple days of pioneer living,
to be the friend of our friend was the pass-
port to the best the house afforded. The
“ wayside inns ” were far apart, and con-
versation with those who brought news
from the old home was an equivalent for
entertainment. But in these days our
friend’s friends go to a hotel; we do not
practice the hospitality of Abraham upon
the plains of Mimre, nor would our nine-
teenth century guests be satisﬁed with such
simple, pastoral fare; they expect a dinner
of three courses and two kinds of. pie.
Hospitality, in the strict import of the
word, means the entertainment of strangers
without recompense; but what is this, in
effect, but turning the home into a sort of
free hotel, where the departing stranger gets
off cheaply by saying: “ Well, I’m sure I’m
much obliged for your hospitality, and if
you ever come up our way, come and see
us.” But it costs time and money and
trouble to entertain, and are we not justi-
ﬁed therefore in electing upon whom we
will bestow these gifts? Is it a duty to in-
vite the tree agent, the implement man, the
man who wants to buy a farm (but never
does), to dine and lodge with us, when to
do so puts an added care upon wife and
mother, whose time and hands are already
fully occupied? These men are abroad on
their personal business, business in which
they expect to make money, why should the
farmer lessen their hotel bills by increasing
in ever so slight a measure, his wife’s tasks?
What earthly right have people who travel
for their own pleasure or business, to ex-
pect their casual acquaintances to entertain
them gratuitously? Hospitality is a very
delightful virtue—especially to the recipient.
But the gentle Elia says that one of the
homes which is no home is “the house of
the man who is infested with many visit-
ors.” It is not of noble-hearted friends he
complains, but of “the purposeless visit-
ants who take your good time and give you
their bad time in exchange.” Is it not
these purposeless visitors, who visit to suit
their convenience rather than our pleasure,

whose friendship is a matter of utility, who
claim most of what passes as hospitality?
“We have not sat down to a meal alone in
ten weeks. * it The summer has gene;
we have all worked hard and have nothing
to show for it; it seems as if we had done
nothing but wait upon company.” This
extract from a private letter received to-day,
tells its own story. It is the story of many
other country homes during hot weather,
when the hospitable hostess toils in the
kitchen to get up company dinners, making
the most of her resources, half ashamed of
the feeling of relief which enters her heart
as she “speeds the parting guest,” and
yearning to be alone once more with her
“own folks.” Society is necessary to
human well-being; the hermit and the per-

surrounded by those with whom they have
no common interest? Hamerton says the
solitude which is really injurious is the sev-
erance from all who are capable of under-
standing us. And it is none the less true
that so-called society or company which
merely fritters away our time and gives us
nothing in exchange, is quite as injurious.
Is not, then, hospitality a virtue to be spar-
ingly and judiciously exercised, in justice
to our families, our ﬁnances, and our-
selves?

 

WHAT is wrong about a church social?
Why should not the members of a church
and congregation gather and eat a social
supper together—and pay half as much for
it as they would have to hand “mine host ”
for a poorer one? There is music, recita-
tions perhaps, but the feature of the even-
ing is the supper. Possibly the exchequer
of the church would be as perceptibly in-
creased were each to donate in money the
value of the provisions contributed, but a
great many people are so constituted that
it is easier for them to boila ham for a church
festival than put a dollar in the contribution
box. They get as a bonus for their gift
not only the complacency of donors but a
certain mild excitement, the pleasurable
exhilaration of mingling in a crowd. J an-
nette’s argument is that the mission of the
church is to save souls, not raise money by
going into the entertainment business. But
if salvation is free, it costs money to deliver
the message, and if people will not give
freely the cash must be coaxed out of their
reluctant pocket-books; at least that is evi-
dently the view taken by many clergymen
who countenance these entertainments. A
church in an interior town was carpeted by
the exertions of a club of young ladies, who
gave little entertainments, as novel and
“ taking ” as they could plan, and patiently
kept on until they had raised the sum
necessary—and it seemed no inconsiderable
amount to them. And they were so happy
that they could do something “ for the
church,” and so proud when their self-
imposed task was accomplished and the
carpet laid, that their exertions caused
quite a little stir, and others helped in other
ways toward beautifying the church. And
those young people took a far greater in-
terest in their church and its prosperity
ever afterward than if they had simply
given the proportion of the sum raised.
outright—a gift which would have been
beyond the ﬁnancial power of at least three-
fourths of the number composing the club.
They gave of their time, their ingenuity,
their talent, things not having a money
value, but which yet brought money into
the treasury.

Ihave heard more than one say that it
made no difference to them whether they
knewa face in the church of their choice
or not; they went to worship, and they
could feel that all around them were fellow
Christians with whom they were in spiritual
harmony. But there are others—and I
think a majority—to whom the actual per-
sonal friendships and what we call the
social relations of the church, are very grate-
ful, and in fact, essential to what they
would call “the home feeling ” toward the

 

son who cannot hear to be alone alike lead
imperfect lives, yet is one less alone if

church corporate. To such, the acquaint-

the church social and its variations are a
help and beneﬁt.

J UDGING from the comments which
have reached me, 1 am compelled to be-
lieve the “spoiled baby” is not so rare as
I had hoped. I agree with Jannette in her
belief that to reform this sadly ill-treated
child he must be removed from the care of
his weak and indulgent parents, and placed
in charge of some ﬁrm, judicious, yet loving
guardian, whose patience must needs be
almost divine. But he is “dear as the
apple of her eye” to the mother, and his
father’s “darling boy,” and neither would
consent to relinquish the rights of parents,
even for the welfare of their child. But
the lesson of their mistake may, I trust,
waken some too indulgent woman to the
realization of the work she is doing in the
training of her children, before it is too
late. Even little children can be taught to
obey, and that is life’s ﬁrst and latest
lesson; they can be taught that disobedience
brings pain and regret, and that is life’s A
B C, repeated times without number from
the cradle to the grave. BEATRIX.

.__——...——-—-——

INFORMATION WAN TED.

Will M. E. H. kindly give us a brief his-
tory of her Literary Society? As we are
nursing a society of that kind, now in its
infancy, any information that will promote
a strong and healthy growth, one calculat-
ed to survive after its founders are no
more, will be gratefully received.

When a person is lost in the woods, why
do they always travel in a circle?

In a late issue of the FARMER, in a letter
from A. C. G. (headed Little Things)
he says he often makes the poultry depart-
ment pay the farm taxes. Well, well! A. C.
G. must sell at an enormous proﬁt or else
his farm taxes must be remarkably low. I
am afraid he raises poultry for proﬁt on
paper. Will he tell us how the thing is done?

When married ladies are doing business
on their own account which is the most ap-
propriate way of signing their names, for
instance, Mrs. John Jones, Mrs. M. A.
Jones, or plain Mary Ann Jones. I for one
prefer to sign myself just plain

P LAINWELL. BESS.
——-—-«.——-—

Mas. E. C. B., of Ann Arbor, says that
ﬁve cents worth (each) of resin and castor
oil boiled together will make enough “ stick-
tight ﬂy paper ” to last a season.

__.__...____

Contributed Recipes.

 

 

CUCUMBER PICKLES.—F0r four gallons of
cucumbers take one cup salt, six quarts of
water (or enough to cover). Scald three
mornings; pour over boiling hot, throw away,
make a new brine and repeat three mornings:
wash well and drain. Take equal parts of
vinegar and water, and a teaspoonful of pul-
verized alum. Scald two mornings and pour
over boxling hot. Then take three or four
gallons, or enough to cover, of the best cider
vinegar, one pound sugar, one ounce white
mustard seed, one ounce cloves, two green
peppers, a handful of horseradish chopped
ﬁne, boil ﬁve minutes, pour over hot. To
make them green boil everything but the last
in a copper boiler, but I only boiled the alum
solution in it, and ﬁnd them plenty green en-
ough for health. Instead of using the spices
and peppers as directed, I use the mixed
spice, which is prepared on purpose for pickl-
ing and contains nearly all kinds of spices
and peppers. I think Ilike it better. I think
these pickles much nicer than those salted
down, and they will keep two or three years,
and perhaps longer. MRS. E. C. B.

 

ances and friendships consummated through

ANN ARBOR.

 

 

