California Agriculturist and Live Stock Journal. 



cracks, the windows are greasy and broken 

 and the spiders weave their dirty webs there — 

 he is poor if that is his wealth. 



Further on is a nice little cottage, half-hid- 

 den by the fast-growing trees, surrounded by 

 pyramids of bright-tinted flowers that offer 

 their sweetness a free gift to the wind ; how 

 grateful their perfume, like incense ascend- 

 ing from the altar of home. As I stood by, 

 admiring, a bright little girl came up and in- 

 quired, "should she pick me some flowers?" 

 '• One or two, if you please;" and the white- 

 armed little angel flew urnund through the 

 beds, picking whole handfuls of roses and 

 jessamines and the sweet-scented balm, and 

 with au innocent smile came and offered them 

 over the gate. 



I have no comments to make. The two 

 pictures speak for themselves — only this: 

 California's hopes are her homes. Like her 

 drifting sands the lone ones float away, but 

 her granite hills are not more firm than 

 hearth-stones where the Lares and the Pen- 

 ates are placed. California homes are the 

 bulwarks of the State." Ida. 



g0mc$tic. 



A Successful Remedy for Vermin on 

 Fowls. 



Editoes Agriultukist : — After reading the 

 close of "Snip's" " Familar Talks," I am 

 inclined to give you a little of my experience 

 with vermin in chicken-houses. I began to 

 keep chickens with the belief that claanliness 

 was all that was required, and to that end I 

 kept a pot of whitewash always ready, and 

 my nests were coated thick with it, but the 

 pests increased and multiplied. This year I 

 had the nests all taken away, leaving a broad 

 shelf running around the house. On that I 

 put new nests made of five-gallon kerosene 

 cans with the side cut out and pounded 

 smoothly down so as not to be sharp. These 

 can be often cleaned, but my remedy for the 

 vermin is carbolic acid. I tried sulphur, but 

 did not think it was of any nse, though I 

 think itisw°ell to feed occasiouallyduring Sum- 

 mer. I use the carbolic acid as it comes for 

 sheep-wash, merely diluting with water. I 

 sprinkle the chicken-house and nests, and 

 once in a while have the roosts brushed over 

 with it, and so far this year I have not been 

 troubled with vermin at all. Perhaps if 

 "Snip " will try this remedy she will be bet- 

 ter satisfied, so you can publish this letter if 

 you choose. Respectfully, 



Mes. Josie p. Hill. 



Injurious Management of ' Dishes. — A 

 good set of dishes will last for ages, if prop- 

 erly handled. We have heard of an excellent 

 housekeeper whose bridal dishes, thirty years 

 old, are in excellent condition to-day, al- 

 though they have been in use every week, 

 more or less, during all the time alluded to. 

 In a common dinner service it is a great evil 

 to make the plates too hot, as it invariably 

 cracks the glaze on the surface, if not the 

 plate itself. We all know the result. It 

 comes apart. Nobody broke it. "It was 

 cracked before" or "cracked a long time 

 ago." The fact is, that when the glaze is in- 

 jured, every time the "things" are washed the 

 water gets to the interior, swells the porous 

 eliy, and makes the whole fabric rotten. In 

 this condition they will also absorb grease 

 and when exposed to further heat the grease 

 makes the dishes brown and discolored. If 

 au old, ill-used dish be made very hot indeed, 

 a teaspoonful of fat will be seen to exude 

 from the minute fissures upon its surface. 



That nation that loses her liberty is not 

 aware of her misfortune at the time, any more 

 than the patient is who receives a paralytic 

 stroke. He who first tells either of them 

 ■what has happened is repulsed as a simpleton 

 or a churl. 



Domestic Comfort. 



^O'lESIDE thn fire Bat Farnwr John, 

 One blusttTiug winter night ; 



BeKiile the farmer Hat hi8 wife, 

 Whoet; hnitliui^ needles bright. 



Flew iu auJ out througii the woulen Bocka 

 Of cluuded blue uml white. 



" Ti8 a tedious night'" quoth Farmer John ; 



•• I'm glad I tlxed that shed, 

 It'H Bueh a nice place for the sheep — 



It Bheltera every head ; 

 There'B not a critter out in the Btorm, 



And everything ia fed." 



" It is a comfort," said his wife ; 



*' And I am thanktul, too. 

 That 1 have got those mittens done 



For both the boys and you, 

 And thatthe girls have good, warm clothes, 



From hood to overshoe. 



*' I wonder what I should have done, 



If you hatt proved to bo 

 A drunken sot, like Jiuuny Stone, 



Who married Susie Lee ; 

 You know she was the prettiest girl 



Iu all the town of G — . 



" Her children sleep to-night in beds 

 With covering scant and thin. 



And through the shingles old and worn 

 The snow comes sifting in. 



While ours are tucked up snug and warm, 

 From toe to rosy chin." 



*' You needn't lay it all to me," 

 Said John, with loving pride, 



" If you had been a shiftless jade, 

 Like Mary Ann UcBride, 



Who spends the half her time abroad — 

 And the other half beside — 



*' I do not dare to think how sad 



Our fate might be to-night ; 

 The children hungry, and half-clad. 



Myself a ragged fright. 

 And everything about the house 



In a disordered plight.'* 



And in his heart he blessed the wife 

 Who had tilled his life with cheer — 



And she thanked Gud for the husband true 

 Who made her home so dear ; 



And both were glad for the little ones, 

 Iu warm beds sleeping near. 



A Few Little Things. 



My entire household, including the hired 

 girl, is full of satisfaction to-night over the 

 fact that I have just driven the ax-handle 

 firmly into the ax and wedged it there, so 

 that it cannot under any circumstance come 

 ont. It may read like a small matter to you, 

 but do you know that that helve had been 

 loose for nearly five years ? Yes, for five 

 years that ax has flung itself across the yard 

 whenever I struck a heavy blow, leaving the 

 helve in my hand, and I suppose I have de- 

 cided more than thousand times to go in and 

 get a hammer and chisel and fasten the helve 

 in. I was thrown and had my arm broken by 

 the ax flying ottj two hired girls had their 

 noses broken, we spoiled the stove-boilers, 

 nearly killed three boys, and yet I didn't get 

 around to fix the ax until to-day. 



Foster was telling me the other day that 

 he had finally glued that knob on to the 

 bureau drawer, and he seemed greatly relieved. 

 I remember when that knob was knocked off 

 —almost seven years ago. I was helping 

 him move the bureau when the accident oc- 

 curred, and I never was iu the house after- 

 ward without hearing Mrs. Foster say : 



"Come, Henry, haven't you got tim^ to 

 fix that knob on this evening 'i'" 



"Yes, Martha," he would reply, and yet 

 it was seven years before he got at it. 



Seven or eight years ago, my neighbor, 

 Mr. Goodwin, found a cow among his cab- 

 bages one day, and in driving her out she 

 jumped over the gate and broke one of the 

 hinges. He went in and got a hammer, 

 screw-driver and screws to repair damages, 

 but his wife called him into breaktast just 

 then. After breakfast he hadn't time, and so 

 it ran along until the other day. He passed 

 through the gate an average of five times per 

 day for about seven yeaes, or thirteen thous- 

 and times iu all, and he had .lifted it up, 



carried it around and bothered for half a 

 minute each time. Thirteen thousand times 

 he said to himself that he would fix that con- 

 founded gate, and yet he didn't do it until the 

 other day. 



Some twelve or thirteen years ago I was 

 taking dinner with Turner, over on Adams 

 avenue, and his wife called attention to the 

 fact that she had that day broken the handle 

 of her big seven pound flat-iron, and that she 

 must get another. The other day I met her 

 on the street, and she told me she had re- 

 placed the flat-iron at last. For thirteen years, 

 fifty-two times per year, she had used that 

 broken handled iron to smooth down her 

 washing, and every time she had said to her- 

 self that she would go up town next day and 

 order a new one. 



Bristow died last week. We were warm 

 friends, and I was with him to the last. Af- 

 ter he had called the family up one by one, 

 and shaken hands and said good-bye, I saw 

 that there was yet something on his mind. I 

 admonished him to trust me if he had a dying 

 request, and he grasped my hand and replied; 



" I've been trying to find time for the last 

 seventeen years to take the butcher knife 

 down to the shop and have it ground, and if 

 it wouldn't be asking to much of you, I wish 

 you'd see to it !" 



I promised him, but it may be twenty years 

 before I get the knife to the shop, and ten 

 years before I call for it. 



I can remember when old Mrs. Baglej' died. 

 She had a china teapot in her house which 

 had belonged to her grandmother, but she 

 had always kept it in the drawer because the 

 handle was broken and wanted cementing. 

 She gave the teapot to a neighbor, who 

 waited five years for a bottle of cement, then 

 four years more to find time, and finally 

 knocked the spout off while trying to mend 

 the handle. 



I don't suppose any of us would forget the 

 day a note was due, but if -the knot) should 

 drop off a chamber door, I expect that George 

 Francis Train might be elected President be- 

 fore we would find time to replace it. — Ex, 



Mismanaged AVokk in the Kitchen. — I 

 think there is more in knowing how to man- 

 age than there is in anything else about house- 

 keeping. How many, many housekeepers 

 just spend half their time in mismanaged 

 work, never accompUshing one-half what they 

 might do if they would just do a little think- 

 ing and contriving along with their work. 

 Then they wouldn't have to spend so much 

 of their time in fuming and sweating, and in 

 envying others, who they think are more 

 favored than themselves. Now I think I 

 shall tell you right here of one of this kind of 

 workers that I had a chance of obserii-ing one 

 morning last NovembeT. I entered the kitch- 

 en at 8 o'clock, and there were the unwashed 

 breakfast dishes sitting upon the table, and 

 Nora was bending over the stove trjing to re- 

 kindle the fire that had almost gone out ; 

 she succeeded in getting it to burn, and then 

 put her dish water on to heat, sitting down 

 until it got warm enough ; washed the dishes, 

 very slovenly about it, or at least it wouldn't 

 have satisfied me to see our dishes put away 

 in that manner. Well, by the time the dishes 

 were all put by, the fire had died out ; so, af- 

 ter the sweeping was done the fire was re- 

 kindled, and the irons put on in a cold heater, 

 the clothes brought from the room, all un- 

 folded, and piled upon two chairs : the iron- 

 ing quilt spread upon the wet table where the 

 dishes had just been washed, and then Nora 

 sat down to rest until the irons were hot. 

 Now, if I or any of our family had been do- 

 ing that morning's work, the clothes would 

 have all been nicely folded away ready for 

 ironing the evening before. Then our water 

 would have been ready for washing the dishes 

 as soon as breakfaet was eaten, for we always 

 keep a pot of good, soft water on the back of 

 the stove on purpose for dishwashing, &c., 

 and the fire would not have been allowed to 

 die out, but while we were eating, the iron 



i, 



