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DETROIT, AUGUST 22, 1887.

 

THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

THE RIGHT ROAD.

 

“ I have lost the road to happiness-—
Does any one know it, pray?

I was dwelling there when the morn was fair
But’somehow Iwandered away.

“I saw rare treasures in scenes of pleasures,
And ran to pursue them, when, 101

I had lost the path to happiness
And I knew not whither to go.

“ I have lost the way to happiness—
Oh, who will lead me back?”
Turn off from the highway of selﬁshness
To the right—up duty‘s track!
Keep straight along and you can‘t go wrong,
For as sure as you live, I say,
The fair, lost ﬁelds of happiness
Can only be found that way.
-Elta Wheeler Wilcox.

——Q..———

OUR SCHOOLS.

 

I do not think our common schools are
just what they should be. I am sure there
must be something wrong about it. Either
there is not judgment used in the selection
of teachers, or else they must be degenerat-
ing. I remember well when Iwas a child
and attended district school, one of our
teachers was kept ﬁve years, another three,
and they were both women. They were
'such kind, gentle, patient teachers, how
much all the scholars loved them; and they
in turn acted as if they liked to teach, and
threw their heart into their work and ruled
by love instead of fear. Pupils discover in-
stantly if a teacher acts from principle, or is
after the “Almighty dollar.” There are
too many at the present time taking up
teaching as a means of livelihood whom
Nature never intended as instructors of
youth. We see so many at the present
time who have mistaken their calling, and
there are no two branches of business in
which we see it so practically illustrated as
among teachers and preachers. De Witt
’I‘almage says of the latter: “They should
be chopped down, hewed off and grubbed
out,” and have only a “survival of the
ﬁttest,” and it is generally true of teachers.
I hardly believe a girl or boy at ﬁfteen and
sixteen years of age is a suitable person to
place in authority over our little ones; sup-
posing they have a knowledge of books
sufﬁcient to procure a third grade certiﬁcate,
they may and often do, lack judgment and
discrimination in their government and
example. The ofﬁcers of the district are
three in number, director, moderator and
treasurer. Invariably the ofﬁces are forced
upon the men who ﬁll the respective places.
When it is time to hire the teacher the
director usually hires the one who will teach
for the least money, and as a natural

 

sequence, we have a woman teacher. Now
I should suppose the better way would be
to select three of the best men in the dis-
trict for the officers, and have them re-
spond willingly and honorably. There
certainly should be nothing but a harmon-
ious feeling in the matter, for all have little
ones, and it would seem but natural to
select good teachers for'them, our dearest
ones on earth. They are away from our
care and inﬂuence the greater share of the
day, what a feeling of interest should be
shown then to have that person in whose
charge they shall be in every way desirable.

Our home work can be very easily un-
done in those school hours. I notice the
more interest parents take in school matters
the more the teacher shows. I know of
term after term when not a parent visits
the school; this certainly is not very en-
couraging for teacher or scholars, for I
know from experience nothing pleases a
child more than to have their parents come
visiting. There are always those in a dis-
trict who expect the teacher to do more for
the children than they do themselves; they
are always sending word that their children
must not do this or that, and I remember
“once upon a time” there was almost a
mutiny raised in the district because the
teacher used a book of selections from
Whittier, Longfellow, Bryant, and Lowell,
a book that was recommended in' the preface
as being adapted to give children a taste
for ﬁrst class reading. One mother said
“the teacher read novels” and her girl
should not read such trash. There is no
accounting for tastes in this world, and
that teachers ﬁnd lots of obstacles in the
way while laboring for the good of their
scholars, must be admitted.

1 never believed in the “knocking down
and dragging out” form of government;
it is a poor rule, and should never be
tolerated. I have in my mind a boy yet in
his teens, who taught school, whose favorite
rule was to grab a little boy by the coat col-
lar, pull him backwards over the seat or
desk, sling him choking and strangling on
the ﬂoor, managing to dash his head
against the wall or door; coming suddenly
behind a scholar who unluckily was break
ing some rule of school, 'and electrifying
him and his school also, with a smart slap
full upon the ear, leaving the child deaf for
hours. Should this be tolerated in a
civilized community? There is nothing so
easily injured as the ear. No one with
common sense should strike a child on the
head. I read not long since of a mother
who took her little girl to a physician in
one of the eastern cities. She noticed the

 

child was losing her hearing in one ear.
After a careful examination he gave as his
opinion, that the hearing was irrevocably
10st and that it was occasioned by blows
upon the ear. The mother acknowledged
that she always boxei the child on that
side of her head for a punishment. “ Well
madam,” he said, “you have the pleasing
consciousness that you have made your child
deaf for life.”

What the world at large wants is a better
set of oﬁicers, a better class of teachers and
a higher grade of parents. The fundamen-
tal principles should be laid down at home.
If our children are taught good behavior at
home they behave at school. I once heard
a gentleman, principal of a boys’ academy,
say that he could tell just what kind of
food his scholars had at home, by their be-
havior at the table; those who stuck up
their noses at the living he knew had
poorer at home, and it is pretty much so.
There is nothing that says so much for us
as our manners and behavior. There is
missionary work to be done in our homes
and in our schools. If each one would
strive, not so much for individual good, as
for general good, in hiring our teachers look
for quality instead of dollars and cents,
and when we have a good teacher appre—
ciate her— or him—~as the case may be, en-
courage them by teaching our children that
it is right to obey, instead of questioning
them what the teacher does, and the
thousand and one other things that are so
much in vogue. Then, and then only will
our schools be what they should be, and
their standard will be raised, so that we
will not be obliged to send our children
away from us to school when we know
they most need our care and home inﬂuence.

BATTLE CREEK. EVANGELINE.

__._...___

THE HOT WEATHER.

 

This has been such a phenomenally hot
and dry summer that even “the oldest in-
habitant ” cannot remember its equal. We
all suffer, but not in equal degree; some of
us are uncomfortable, others much more so.
Harper’s Bazar of late date has a very ex-
cellent letter on bearing such discomfort,
from which we glean a few thoughts:

“Nature is susceptible of impression,
and it is a most valuable impress when a
mother has taught her child the control of
nerve and will and temper that enables it to
endure physical discomforts, even as great
as the severe heat which mounts to the
nineties, without being rufﬂed. The hot“;
may be intense, but if the nervous system
is held in check and kept calm, the power

    


 

 

2

    

THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

   

 

of the heat to harm is largely taken away.
On the other hand the child that fumes and
frets, the woman that tosses off this and
that bit of clothing in a fret, mopping her
face and fanning furiously, crying out how
hot it is and making cold drinks—these
people are really ten times more uncomfort-
able than they would be if they adopted an
imperturbable demeanor, accepted the heat
as a fact of the universe it is no more use to
ﬁght against than the movement of the
earth. Should a physician take the tem-
perature of any two persons pursuing these
opposite paths of action, where one was
found at fever heat the other would be
normal.

“One will see in this matter of hot
weather alone that the woman, red-faced
and blowzy and perSpiring, tossing herself
about and making perpetual motion with
her fan and perpetual irritation with her
exclamatory remarks, affords an instance of
suffering produced as much by ill-breeding
and bad sense'as by the sun’s power; and
one will see the person serene by force of
habit and strength of will, of the same size
and condition as the other; and subject to
the same exterior inﬂuences, in a state of
comparative comfort and suffering inﬁnitely
less than her restless and complaining
sister, whose mental irritability is apt to
break out in prickly heat.”

All of which is very sensible and true.
If you do not believe it, try it.

______....__.

THE FINANCIAL FOX.

Solomon’s Song, 11—15.

When shall I marry? Not until I have
sufﬁcient property to ensure me a regular
income for personal expenses. When as a
teacher I “ boarded around” I spied out
this dreadful ﬁnancial fox that destroys so
many tender vines of matrimonial happi-
ness. And now when 1 put on my glasses
and sit with my pretty married nieces over
their mending baskets, the ugly creature
shows his nose with exasperating frequency.
Only yesterday Nellie explained the lack of
darning cotton and the right size of thread
by saying, “ I hate to ask Joe to buy thread,
he looks so amazed, so I get along without
as long as I possibly can.” “There is that
fox,” I thought, andI resolved then to punch
his head at least ou’te with the sharp point
of my pencil. It is in farmers’ homes that
I have watched him. Nellie’s money may
have paid for half the farm, and she has
worked more hours than Joe has since their
wedding day ten years ago; but when a sale
is made the money goes into the pocket-
book he calls his, and he decides what shall
be bought, from a reaper and mower to a
paper of pins. Now, if he would place a
reasonable share in N ellie’s purse and let
her plan her wardrobe and choose for her-
Self the little things so necessary to every
housekeeper, this fox would be dead. I do
not believe that in the ten years Joe has
“ loved to confer blessings and beneﬁts upon
her,” she has had ten dollars that she felt
was her very own to use just as she pleased.
He buys liberally when the mood is upon
him and is vexed if she asks for a spool of
thread if it isn’t. She can never plan Or be
sure of anything. She must always ask for
every nickel and from his decision there is

no appeal.

 

 

I know of one husband (not a farmer)
who gives his wife a sum of money every
week for household and personal expenses,
and she has a self-reliant, composed, charm-
ing manner that no begging, cringing wife
can ever hope to attain. The independent
use of money gives dignity, and I sympa-
thize with the minister who, when his funds
were low, borrowed ten dollars every Satur-
day evening and returned it Monday morn-
ing because he could not preach with an
empty pocket-book.

During a morning call Mrs. J. remarked:
“ Do you know that Kate is very poorly in
health? She wants to consult Dr. B. (a
skillful city physician) but John thinks old
Dr. W. just as good, and you know how
stupid he is; but then it won’t cost so
much.” “ Oh, that horrid foxl” I groaned.
Kate must suffer, perhaps for years, be-
cause the money is in John’s pocket and he
does not see the necessity of skilled medical
advice. Every wife and mother ought to
decide for herself what physician shall pre-
scribe for her diseases. but she rarely has
the privilege.

Thirty years ago Mr. Pink was probably
musing about how delightful it would be
“to confer blessings and beneﬁts” upon the
future Mrs. Pink; and the expectant bride
actually feared she did not have wants
enough to keep Mr. Pink happy supplying
them. And to—day if you ask any one with-
in ﬁve miles what woman has the best hus-
band, the prompt answer'will be: “Why,
Mrs. Pink, of course. Didn’t Mr. Pink pay
sixty dollars for her spring suit last year?”
Yes, he did, but having bought that he could
not afford gloves, shoes, and ribbons suit-
able to wear with it, so Mrs. Pink went
about the streets feeling very shabby, even if
her suit did cost so much. Had he given
her the sixty dollars a week before the pur-
chase she would have planned a complete
outﬁt that would have been a “thing of
beauty and a joy” as long as it lasted. Mr.
Pink 18 the very man who takes the FARMER
but did not take the HOUSEHOLD although
he knew that his wife and daughters valued
it highly. And three times last week I
heard Mr. Pink refuse to carry a basket of
clothes to the laundry to be ironed, although
there were imperative reasons why Mrs
Pink needed help. J ust fancy Mr. Pink’s
indignation should one of the neighbors say
that after thirty years’ experience in house-
keeping Mrs. Plnk was not competent to de-
cide when it was necessary to hire an iron-
ing done or pay two shillings for a paper!
This pestiferous ﬁnancial fox has so be-
numbed his matrimonial conscience that he
never mistrusts that he is selﬁsh and ar-
bit-rary.

But this fox puts in the most vexatious
mischief when there are children, especially
grown up daughters, to buy for. “ Old
School Teacher’s ” story of Mary’s hat was
no exaggeration, but a true picture of the
trials of nearly every mother in the land.
Of all the fathers I have known 1 can recall
but one who seemed to consider that his
grownsup daughter needed clothing, and he
sometimes invites his to go to the store and
get a dress, shoes or hat, as she may need.
No, I never will marry until I have a purse
of my own with money in it.

AUNT PRUDENCE.

 

    

HOUSE PLANTS.

 

The wise woman who proposes to keep a
bit of summer in her house through the win-
ter, has a stock of young plants in the pro—
cess of rooting by this time, if not already
rooted and ready to be transplanted into
pots for winter blooming. The wise wo-
man does not nip off a lot of cuttings in the
fall, stick them in thumb pots, nurse them
through a green and yellow melancholy and
ﬁnally throw the leaﬂess sticks into the ﬁre,
with a sigh over her hard luck with house-
plants. Nor does she wait till October’s
frosts have cut down everything not pro-
tected by careful covering up o’nights, and
then laboriously “lift” the scraggy, ram-
pant shrubs that have wantoned in rich
earth all summer, crowd their mutilated
roots into the narrow compass of a six-inch
pot, lop off a branch here and there, and
complacently ﬁll up her windows with them,
only to sweep up the shrivelled leaves and
mournfully regard the bare branches and call
it “bad luck.” The wise woman of whom I
write does nothing of this kind. In summer
she prepares for winter. If she has plants
she means to keep over she sinks the pots
in the earth and when she wants to put
them in winter quarters, shifts them to
larger pots, or scoops out a little of the
earth in the pots and replaces it with fresh
vegetable mould or loam. She knows the
thrifty plants that have been planted out
and bloomed all summer will not do well in
her windows during the winter; plants, like
people, require rest. So she has rooted
slips of those she prefers, and in autumn
has some compact, well-shaped young
plants, which in a sunny window will repay.
her wi'h generous blossoms. She does not
leave her plants out of doors as long as she
dare, and then take them into the warm
living room; instead, they go from tire
piazza to some unused room warmed only
by the sun, and the transition to winter
quarters is so gradual there are few yellow
leaves. '

The wise woman does not ﬁll every avail-
able Window of her living rooms with plants
“because she is so fond of them,” till
husband cannot get near enough the light to
read his paper with comfort, and the chil-
dren lose their playthings and complain it
is so dark they cannot ﬁnd them again.
She knows there is an inﬁnite deal more
pleasure in even two or three well-grown,
luxuriant plants, than in two dozen which
are struggling for life ani getting badly
worsted, and lives up to her knowledge;
there’s nothing charming about a window-
ful of clay pots with a twig with a couple of
leaves on it in each. She does not try to
raise camellias and tea roses in her sitting-
room; she knows she cannot provide the
conditions necessary for success. Her
“luck with plants”—-—for the wise woman
is always lucky—consists simply in good
judgment and observation. She waters judi-
ciously; she never lets a plant wilt for want
of water and then wonders, two weeks after-
wrrd, what makes it turn yellow; and keeps
the air in her rooms cool, moist and not too
warm.

The wise woman does not, like Tenny-
son’s “ withered misses,”

“ Show you slips of all that grows
From England to Van Dreman’s,”

  


 

THE HOUSEHOLD.

    

3

 

 

nor make a nuisance of herself by asking
every plant-growing friend to mutilate her
choicest specimens to give her “a slip.”
She does not accept a “monkey ﬂower”
from one neighbor, a “ musk plant” from
another, and a mimulus from a third, only
to ﬁnd them one and the same thing. She
has learned too, that two or three pretty
foliage plants with her favorite geraniums
and heliotropes, are a source of satisfaction;
they do not bloom, but their bright-hued
leaves are very attractive. Into the cellar
go her fuchsias, zonal geraniums, etc., and
out they come in the spring, ready to begin
living again. Another thing the wise wo—
man doesn’t do is to grow those abominably
homely, ungainly things called under the
generic name of cactus, which have no ex-
cuse for existing outside New Mexican
plains, or a ﬂorist’s “chamber of horrors.”
DETROIT. BEATRIX.

THAT NUT.

 

Should a wife place property she holds in
her own right into the hands of her husband,
without reserve or limitation? If this is an
abstract question my answer is an unquali-
ﬁed No. If the property is the outcome of
her own efforts, or comes to her by bequest,
or in any form not connected with “ aid or
comfort” from her husband, it is her own,
and she should hold it secure.

But, if it would help their mutual busi-
ness to have it consolidated with property
owned exclusively by the husband, go into
partnership, honestly and squarely, and
call it “ours.” I verily believe much of
the prejudice felt and demonstrated by men
against the separate holding of property by
the wife, has come as much from the very
pronounced way some women have of as-
serting their ownership of property as from
any other cause. In season and out, the
“my and mine” rings in, and a man is
made to feel his inferiority, and the wife’s
supreme condescension in a way hard to be
borne.

A story is told that has much human na—
ture in it, of a man and woman entering
life with a joint capital of nine dollars.
After a prosperous life, the subject came up
amid a company of juvenile~people, and the
old man, telling the story, facetiously warn-
ed the youth to “ beware of wedding a wo-
man richer than themselves,” “for,” said
he, “my wife throws it upto me yet that
the odd dollar of our capital belonged to her.
She had ﬁve dollars to my four.”

Much is said of the injustice of law to
woman in regard to property, and certainly
there are points that could be improved, but
in this case woman has every advantage.
The husband is bound to support the wife,
even if he be poor and she wealthy. None
of her property can be seized for his debts,
though incurred for her support; nor, unless
she so will, can he inherit aught at her
death. [We take the liberty of correcting
A. L. L.’s statement that the husband can-
not inherit any of the wife’s property un-
less she so will. Howell’s Anno-
tated Statutes, Vol. 11, page 1527,
says the wife’s property, unless dis-

posed of by will, shall be distributed,
after debts and expenses of administration
are paid, as follows: One-third to the hus-
band and the remaining two-thirds to the

      

 

children; or if there be but one child the
property shall be divided between the hus-
band and child, share and share alike. If
there be no children, half the property shall
go to the husband, and the remainder to the
wife’s father, if he be living, or to her
mother, brothers and sisters if the father be
dead. If there be no father, mother, broth—
ers or sisters, the husband inherits the en-
tire property. We make this correction,
less to prove “our old reliable” A. L. L.
for once in the wrong than to give the wo-
men of farm homes, who are usually very
ignorant on all matters pertaining to their
legal rights, exact information as to their
real position. Any woman holding prop-
erty in her own name can dispose of it by
will in any way she pleases. -HOUSEHOLD
Eu]

No doubt, many a man has worried
a woman, by unmanly means, and against
her judgment, into giving her property into
his hands to the injury of both; and
the converse is equally true, that some
women have nagged men into turning
property over to them, and the result has
not been a brilliant success.

So much for generalities; when we come
down to real life, each case must be decid-
ed on its merits, and general laws lose
much of their potency. 1 think in the case
mentioned by Beatrix, where the husband
had proved his deﬁciency in business man-
agement, the wife who would trust the resi-
due to him would be a ﬁt subject for a
lunatic asylum. If the conceit of the man
could survive such a failure as that, he
should, if ugly or obstreperous be abated
like any other nuisance. A man that would
make a woman’s life miserable after such a
generous trial, should wear a muzzle in her
presence until he learned civility, and—yes
—humilit_v. _

There are many men who have an over-
drawn opinion of the woman they seek to
marry, and an overweening opinion of the
man she marries after the ceremony has made
her irrevocably his own. Before marriage,
his money could hardly be spent freely
enough; after marriage, his purse strings
get in a hard knot, and if she has money of
her own, by some strange jugglery he thinks
it all wrong, and his palm itches to grab the
coveted supply. While marriage blends two
lives in one, legally and‘morally, in daily
life there are separate desires and necessi-
ties, and when fortune has placed in wo-
man’s hand a staff, it is not usually well to
transfer its supporting power irrevocably to
her abler self. A vine must cling, of
course, but a sturdy oak should not grudge
her a little stick in addition, especially when
she will use it as a prop for both in case of
storm or disaster.

Many a man has no talent for business
management; he may be a good worker for
others, but no success when standing alone.
Many a woman has demonstrated her ﬁt-
ness for business; many more are lamentable
failures. Wives are liable at any time to be
deprived of the husband’s aid, counsel and
care. It is the duty of every husband and
wife to counsel together, to understand the
formula and standing of business, to labor
together and use of their means for the
comfort and happiness of their family; but
it is not the duty of either to give up indi-

 

     

vidual property into the hands of the other.
It can be used just as freely, and be just as
much appreciated while it is ours, as if it
all belonged to one, no matter which one.
I never did believe in what is called two
pocket-books, nor have I greater faith in
one alone. There should be a general
treasury, from which each may draw as
their several needs require, but each should
have their own small or large store at com-
mand, from which to be prepared for unex—
pected calls.

A wife should not feel it necessary to
ask in a servile way for money, nor should
a man snarl when asked for money by his
wife. But there are persons so constituted
that these very unpleasant things are sure
to obtain. Agitation of this subject will
help such cases, no matter if the same
things are said over and over again. Truth
will bear iteration and reiteration, and the
scales of custom and prejudice are very hard
to loosen from the eyes of many. A man
ingrained by nature and education in the
belief that “Iown it all,” will be apt to
deal grudgingly with his wife, “ whose time
amounts to no more than a settin’ hen’s,”
and the wife, not fully educated to claim
her own, will stint, and worry, and man-
age, rather than meet the sneer or hauteur
of the little big fellow who promised in
wedlock to “endow her with all his worldly
goods.” But times change and people
change also. When the millennium of
woman’s rights comes, remember, and be
generous. A. L. L.

INGLESIDE.
—————¢w————-—

THE POULTRY BUSINESS.

 

Some time ago, Bess made a request that
some others would give their experience in
the chicken business, with a future promise
of her’s. As no one as yet. has responded,
and being troubled myself somewhat with
hen fever, I will say a word or two after the
fashion of Bill Nye, who sent cast for a
pair of blooded fowls at a cost of $9 00; and
freight $4 30. He kept them some weeks,
the hen failed to lay the high priced eggs.
and the rooster appeared to be better bred
than himself, so he concluded to have a $9 00
pot pie. Some twenty—four years ago I be-
gan keeping house on the farm; some kind
friends started us in chickens and of course
we have found them useful ever since, both
in the house and garden too. 1 have kept
no account of proﬁt and loss, but have
thought and felt, many a time, that if there
was not a chicken within a thousand miles
I would be better satisﬁed, but then what is
the use of a man’s growling, when the wo-
men will see them scratch up their nice
posies by the roots, and still speak in their
praise. If the chickens stole the surplus pie
and cake out of the pantry, the Plymouth
Rocks would be all straight, with them.
Yes; you should build and fence them a nice
house and roomy yard, chop meat, and
grind bone dust, and the tale is not half
told. About three miles from here lives a
man who built a very nice yard, with
picket fence and divisions. Inside this yard
is a very neat chicken house with cornice
and cupola, sided and covered with tarred
rooﬁng; I hear it cost him $200. Now with
eggs at 12 cents per dozen, the feed and the
care, how long will it take him to pay the

  


 

4:

THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

cost? By that time his house and yard will
want some alteration and repairs.

I have seen Bess’ chickens and surround-
ings, and she has some “ worthy of all
praise;” with only two prominent toes visi-
ble, which makes them non-scratchers, the
most desirable factor in the chicken tribe,
but I cannot ﬁnd a good name in my book
for the common run of thoroughbreds as
yet. Now ladies, be merciful to an erring
brother, or my share of the egg money will
never take me to Detroit. “’Tis not the
spot where I was born, still ever dear to
me,” and so are chickens, “ by spells.”

We heard that the huckleberries were
tired too and all dried up, so we did not
take our usual trip to Barry County, and
concluded to let them rest just one year.

ANTI-OVER.
PLAINWELL.

.—.—_-...————-

SCRAPS.

 

I WONDER whether our greatness as a
nation is not making us unfeeling, es-
pecially in all that does not come under our
immediate knowledge or make an active
demand upon our sympathies. When the
news of that awful railroad disaster at
Chatsworth, where a hundred human
beings were hurled into eternity without
one moment’s warning and as many more
were crushed and mangled and left to
linger in agony, ﬂashed over the wires, the
newsboys were soon crying “ Extry ’dishun,
all ’bout the ax’dent.” Men bought the
papers, read the headlines, and hurried on,
as intent upon business and money-making
as ever, as soon as they saw none of their
own personal interests were involved. At
the dinner table some one said “ Terrible ac-
cident, that on the Peoria road, was n’t it?”
Another asked “What accident, what
about it?” “ Excursion train ran on to a
burning bridge, more than a hundred peo-
ple killed,” and somebody else said “ How
awful!” and the tide of talk turnei upon
the succulence of the green corn on the
table, and the fact that the Americans are
the only people that know the delicious
edible, and how shocked Englishmen have
been at seeing the Yankee enjoying it an
naturel; and somebody told that old chest-
nut about the Irishman who at his ﬁrst
experience with it, sent back the cob to
have “ some more banes put on the sthic .”
And yet, “who knoweth the heart of
man?” Perhaps in the mind of each and
all was the picture imagination called up,
of the fallen bridge and broken coaches,
the ghastly corpses, the moans of the dying,
and the ghouls, who like Victor Hugo’s
Thenardier, robbed the miserable victims
as they lay dying. Social laws demand we
shall restrain our emotions; we may feel
deeply, yet must preserve our calmness and
indifference. We read of so many appall-
ing accidents, of such fearful crimes, such
destruction of human life through various
agencies. that such occurrences must come
very near us to waken other than transient
emotions. Perhaps it is best so, for how
we would be rent with unavailing pain
were we to suffer with all who mourn.

 

“1AM done looking for any great hap-
piness to come to me all in a moment, to
bless and beneﬁt all my after life, and am

 

striving to get some content, some happi-
ness, out of every day as it comes,” said a
friend to me the other day, as we chatted
together in my especial sanctum. 1 re-
membered what I knew of her life and its
limitations, and her strong love for books
and travel, and all life’s reﬁnements, ever
held down by circumstances that narrowed
every expense to the smallest margin, and
thought: “She has found the secret of hap-
piness. Not to expect great things, but to
make the most of little ones; to live in the
present, enjoying what it brings. Aloud I
said. “And can you always ﬁnd some-
thing in each day’s happenings to give you
pleasure? “Always,” she replied; “ some-
times it is but a little thing, but always
something. A few pleasant words with a
friend; a blossom on one of my plants,
some good thoughts from a book,—oh, one
can ﬁnd many sources of happiness for the
seeking. 1 hope I shall never lose my
capacity for enjoyment of such things, for
after all life is made up of triﬂes. I shall
take it as a sign I am growing old, when I
am no longer pleased by small things.”
Happiness is as elusive as the odor of a
rose; seek it, it ﬂies before; pursue it, it
eludes and dazzles, yet leaves ashes as a
heritage; the harder we strive for it, the
more unsatisfactory our pursuit. Is it not
then, the wisest plan to give over expecting
the realization of bright visions in the
future, and be just as happy in the present
as possible, even if triﬂes compose the sum
of our content? '

 

“WHEN are your happiest moments?”
is a conundrum I have propounded, “just
for the fun of it,” to divers and sundry of
my acquaintances since reading a late letter
of. Evangeline’s, and the answers I have re-
ceived have ranged all the way from jest to
earnest. “When I have successfully
worked out an intricate problem after
several failures,” answered a local mathe-
matician of considerable celebrity, and his
slender, nervous hand stroked his long
beard as he seemed to remember some
Such triumph. “ When I’m out with my best
girl and have skipped ‘the dragon,’ ” and
a pair of saucy brown eyes twinkled mis-
chieviously as they looked mockingly into
mine. “You’ll think me dreadfully
frivolous, but I really believe 1 am perfectly
happy when I know I’m dressed in perfect
taste and ﬁtness in every detail,” said the
society woman, to when life is one long
full-dress reception. I ventured to ask a
man with his head full of business the same
question, half afraid at my own temerity.
“Happiest moments!” he repeated,
“Humph! I don’t think I have any—un-
less it’s when my wife isn’t dunning me
for money,” and he smiled bitterly and
sauntered down the walk as if the question
awoke unpleasant thoughts. “When the
boys are fast asleep in their cribs, and Will
and 1 are enjoying the twilight together, I
am perfectly happy,” said the philosophical
mother of twins. “I never expect to be
happy till my husband is oﬁ the road,” said
the repining wife of a traveling man. “I
am in misery night and day when he
is away, fearing some accident, and
when he’s home I can’t be happy because
I know he must go away so soon.”
What a life! no happy moments, always

 

the fear Of what may be, overshadowing
what is! Evangeline tells us her happiest
moments come when she holds her babes to
a heart overﬂowing with mother-love. And
if any one turns the question back to me,
“I shall answer, I shall tell you” that I
am happiest when the northeast pigeon-
hole of my ofﬁce desk is full and running

over with HOUSEHOLD copy.
BEATRIX.

——...—-——-

HOUSEHOLD HINTS.

 

COLORED and black stockings, if washed
before wearing in water in which has been
put a little beef’s gall, will not fade by
washing.

 

IT is said that if a little bag of mustard be
laid on the top of the pickle jar it will pre-
vent the vinegar from moulding, if the vin-
egar has not been boiled.

 

A CORRESPONDENT of the Popular
Science News highly recommends common
washing soda as an antidote for ivy-poison-
ing, to which he is extremely susceptible.
He makes the application by saturating a
slice of bread with water, covering one side
of it with the soda, then applying the soda-

.covered side to the poisoned ﬂesh. When

the bread becomes dry he drops water on
the outside to moisten it and re—dissolve the
soda crystals. This is better than washing
or bathing with soda in solution. Half an
hour will usually relieve the pain.

 

AN inventive woman tells us how she
made a new stair carpet the year the old one
and the crops both failed. She had anum—
ber of stout old bags, or grain sacks, which
she cut into strips of the required width, us- ‘
ing the best portions, and sewed them to-
gether with stout -twine; she then painted
the strip with dark brown paint, giving it
three coats; then she drew an inch wide
stripe on each side and painted it yellow.
When this was dry, she varnished the
whole strip and had a very pretty
seal brown and old gold carpet, which look-
ed quite handsome under her gilt stair rods,
and which proved very durable.

._____...————-

Contributed Recipes.

 

ConNsrARCH CAKE—One cup sweet milk;
two cups white sugar; one cup butter; three-
quarters cup cornstarch; two cups ﬂour;
whites of ﬁve eggs; two teaspoonfuls baking
powder. Beat the butter and sugar to a stiff
cream; then dissolve the cornstarch in the
milk, and add. Mix the baking powder well
into the ﬂour; beat the eggs to a stiff froth,
and add last. Very nice.

DELICA’I‘E Cure—One cup sugar; four
tablespoonfuls of butter; one egg; half cup
sweet milk; one and a half cups ﬂour; oue
spoonful baking powder. Flavor with lemon.
Beat the sugar and butter to a cream; then
add the other ingredients. Sift the baking
powder in the ﬂour.

ORANGE CAKE—TWO cups sugar; two cups
ﬂour; one and a half cups water; half
cup butter; whites of three eggs and
yolks of ﬁve; half a grated orange; three table-
spoonfuls baking powder. For the ﬁlling,
take half an orange; whites of two eggs; one
and a half cups sugar. Bake in layers: you
will ﬁnd it nice. These are all tested recipes.

OLD HUNDRED.

 

 

 

