316 



SEPT. 21 



BjUimwtiola»lU°<*" " u " ol ' 



evil more comfort pay; 



St9T^ v 



THE TWO HOMES. 



Two hen on their way Lome met at a street- 

 crossiDg, aud they walked on logcther. Tbey were 

 neighbors and friends. 



"This has been a very hard day," said Mr. 

 Freeman, in a gloomy voice. Aod as they walked 

 homeward they discouraged each other, and made 

 darker the clouds that obscured their whole 

 horizon. 



" Good eveoing," was at last said hurriedly, aud 

 the two men passed into their homes. 



Mr. Waleolt entered the room where his wife 

 and Children were gathered, and without speaking 

 to eny one, seated liim*e]f m it ch;iir, and leaning 

 bis head back, closed bis eyes. Ilis countenance 

 wore a sad, weary, exhausted look. He had been 

 seated thus for only a few minutes, when his wife 

 said, in a fearful voice : 



" More trouble again." 



" What is tbe matter now ¥' asked Mr. Walcott, 

 almost starting. 



"John has been sent home from school." 



"What?" Mr. Walcott partly rose from his 



" He has been suspended for bad conduct." 



"Oh, dearV" groaned Mr. Walcott, "where is 

 he?" 



" Up in bis room , I sent him there as soon as 

 he came home. You'll have to do something with 

 him. He'll be ruined if he goes on in this way. 

 I'm out of all heart with him." chil 



Mr. 'Walcott, excited as much by the manner in 



tion as by Hie information itself, started up, under 

 the blind impulse of the moment, and going to 

 tbe room where John had been sent on coming 

 home from school, punished the boy severely, and 

 this without listening to the explanations which 

 the poor child tried to make him hear. 



" Father," said the boy, with forced calmness, 

 oiler the croel stripes had censed, "I wasn't to 

 blame, and if yon will go with me to the teacher, 

 I can prove myself innocent." 



Mr, Walcott bod never known his son to tell an 

 ontrutb, and the words fell with a rebuke upon 



"Very well, we will see about that," he an- 

 swered, with forced sternness, and leaving the 

 room he went down stairs, feeling much more 

 oncomfortable than when he went up. Again he 

 seated himself in his large chair, and again leaned 

 back his weary bead and closed his heavy eyelids. 

 Sadder was his face than before. As he sat thus, 

 his eldest daughter, in her sixteenth year, came 

 and stood by him. She held a paper in her hond. 



" Father," he opened his eyes, " here's my quar- 

 ter's bill. Can't I have the money to take to 



tea bell was rung, Mr. Walcott mode 

 it to obey the summons. 



supper." said bis wife, ooldlj. 

 Inotslir. 



not coming to supperV she called to 



'I don't wish for uojthing tbis evening. My 

 head aches very much," he answered. 



"In the dumps again," muttered Mrs. Walcott 

 i herself. " It's as much us one's life is worth to 

 ask for money, or to say anything is wanted." 

 kept on her way to tbe dialog- room. 

 Wben she returned her husband was still sitting 

 where she had left bim. 



'Shall I bring you u cup of tea?" she asked. 



'No, I don't wish for anything." 



'What's the matter, Mr. Walcott'/ What do 



you look so troubled about, as if you hadn't a 



friend in the world V Wbut have I done to you V" 



There was no BDswer, for there was not a shade 



of real sympathy in the voice that made the 



queries, but rather of querulous diMMiafoOtion; 



A few moments Mrs. Walcott stood behind her 



husband, but as be did notsecm inclined to answer 



questions, she turned away from bim, and resumed 



the employ ment whicl) hud been interrupted by the 



ringing of the tea bell. 



The whole evening passed without the occur- 

 rence of a single incident that gave a healthful 

 pulsation to the sick heart of Mr. Walcott. No 

 ibougbiful kindness was manifested by any mem- 

 ber of the family ; but on [he contrary, a narrow 

 regard for self, and a looking to him only that he 

 might supply the means of self- gratification. 



No wonder, from tho pressure which was on 



him, that Mr. Walcott felt utterly discouraged. 



He retired early, and sought to find that relief 



from mental disquietude in sleep which he had 



vainly hoped for in the bosom of his family. But 



the whole night passed in broken slumber and 



disturbing dreams. From tbe cheerless morniDg 



1, at which he was reminded of the quarter's 



that must he paid, of the coals and flour thai 



i out, and of tho necessity of supplying Mrs. 



cotl's empty purse, he went forth to meet the 



cullies of another day, faint at heart, almost 



hopeless of success. A confident spirit, sustained 



by borne affections, would have carried him 



through; but uosuppor.ed as he was, the burden 



■ heavy fur him, and lie sank under it. Tbe 



day that opened so unpropitiously closed upon 



Let us look in for a few moments upon Mr. 

 Freeman, the friend and neighborof .Mr. Walcott. 

 He, also, bad conic home weary, dispirited, and 

 almost sick. The trials of tho day had been un- 

 usually severe, and when be looked anxiously for- 

 ward to scan the future, not even a gleam of light 

 was seen along tbe black hori/.un. 



As he stepped across the threshold of his dwel- 

 ling, a pang shot through bis heart, for the thought 

 How slight tbe present hold upon ail these 

 ." Not for himself, but for his wife and 





1 1 Hi-' > 



footfal 



. tbe 



passage, then quick, pattering feet were heard— 

 and then a tiny form was springing into his arr. 

 I It fort* i enehing the sitting-room above, Alice, I 

 eldest daughter, was by his side, her arm dra 

 fondly within his, and her loving eyes lifted 



; of Mrs. Freeman, 



■. Freeman could not trust himself to i 



'as too deeply troubled in spirit to ass 



" Nearly all the girls will bring in their money 

 to-morrow, and it mortifies me to be behind the 

 Others." The daughter spoke fretfully. Mr. Wal- 

 cott waved her aside with his hand, and she went 

 off muttering and pouting. 



"It is mortifying," said Mrs. Walcott, a little 

 sharply; "and I don't wender that Helen feels 

 annoyed about it. Tho bill has to be paid, and I 

 don't see why it may not bo done as well first as 

 last." 



To this Mr. Walcott made no answer. The 

 words but added another pressure to the heavy 

 burden under which he was already staggc 



After a silence of s 



. Walcc 



" Tho coals are all gone." 



"Impossible!" Mr. Walcott raised his head 

 and looked incredulous. "I laid in sixteen tuns.' 



"I cant help H, if there were sixty tuns instead 

 of sixteen— they are all gone. The girls hud hard 

 work to-day to surape up enougb to keep the fire 



"There's been a shameful waste somewhere," 

 saul Mr. Walcott, with strong emphasis, starting 

 up and movi U g about the room with a very dis- 



" So youulwuyfj say, when anything runs out," 

 d UrB - Walcott, rather tartly. " The bar- 



■ !! 



i head and closed 

 ■ and weary, and 

 of the day had 



Mr. Walcott returned to hi 

 Beating himself, leaned back I, 

 his eyes as ui first. H ow SB 

 hopeless he felt I The burdc 

 seemed almost loo heavy f or bi 

 borne up bravely. To gather strength for a 

 newed struggle with adver*-.*; circiiu lstiin(:i . Si 

 • homo. Alas! that the process of 

 haustion should still go on— that where only 

 strength 



vish 

 to sadden the hearts that loved him by letting the 

 depression from which be was suffering become 

 too clearly apparent. But the eyes of Mrs. Free- 

 man saw quickly below the surface. 



"Are you not well, Robert?" she inquired, ten- 

 derly, as she drew his large arm-chair toward tbe 

 centre of the room. 



"A little headache," he answered, with a slight 



Scarcely was Mr, Freeman seated ere a pair of 

 hands was busy with each loot, removing gaiter 

 id supplying their place with a soft 

 slipper. There was not one in the household who 

 did not feel happier for his return, nor one who 

 did not seek to render him some kind office. 



It was impossible, under such a burst of heart- 

 sunshine, fur the spirit of Mr. Freeman long to 

 remain shrouded. Almost imperceptibly to himself 

 gloomy thoughts gave place to more cheerful ones, 

 1 by the time tea was ready, he had half forgot- 

 tlie fears which hud so haunted birn through 

 the day. 

 But they could not be held back altogether, and 

 ieir exi.-jU'ncc was marked during the evening by 

 n unusual silence and abstraction of miud. This 

 as observed by Mrs. Freeman, who, more than 

 alf suspecting the cause, kept back from her 

 husband the knowledge of certain matters about 

 which she had intended to speak to him, for sbe 

 feared they would add to his mental disquietude, 

 gleaned from something 

 his changed aspect. At 

 leoced running in a new 

 channel. By a few leading remarks sbe drew her 

 husband into conversation on the subject of home 

 expenses and the propriety of restriction iuvari- 

 ous points. Many things were mutually pro- 

 nounced superfluous and easily to be dispensed 

 with, and before sleep fell soothingly on the heavy 

 eyelids of Mr. Freeman that night, an entire change 

 in their style of living htid been determined upon 

 —a change that would reduce their expenses at 

 least one- half. 



"I Bee a light ahead," were the hopeful words 

 of Mr. Freeman as be resigned himself to slumber. 

 With renewed strength of mind and body, and 

 a confident spirit, he went forth the next day— a 

 day that be bad looked forward to with fear and 

 trembling. And it was only through this renewed 

 strength and confident spirit that he was able to 

 overcome the difficulties that loomed up, mountain 

 high, before him. Weak despondency would have 

 ruined all. Home had proved bis tower of strength 

 ty. Strengthened for the conflict, 

 be had gone forth again into the world and con- 

 quered in the struggle. 



"I see light ahead," gave place to "The moru- 

 iug breakt-ih."— Orange Bloieomt. 



THE TRUE LADY. 



Wl have noticed that some young ladies aro 

 never found engaged in domestic labor. Cull at 

 their homes at any time of day, aud you do not 

 find them performing housework. They are fre- 

 quently found embroidering, making a lace collar, 

 practicing oh the piano, or doing nothing. We 



labors, or else tbat tbey suddenly quit tbe kitchen 

 when the door hell rings, lest they should he 

 caught with a broom orrollmg-pin in their bands. 

 It U well-known that many young ladies detain 

 visitors a half-hour in tho parlor, before tbey 

 emerge from their chambers, arrayed like Puis 

 dolls. No person out of the families ever saw tbfllD 

 in a kitchen-garb. The principal reason is, they 

 think it is not lady-like. Says Mr. Arlbur: 



A friend of ours, remarkable for his strong good 

 sense, married avcry accomplished and fashionable 

 young lady, attracted more by her beauty and 

 accomplishments thon by anything else. In this, 

 it musl be owned that his strong good sense did 

 not seem very apparent. His wife, however, 

 proved to be a very excellent companion, and was 

 deeply attached to him, though she still loved 

 company, and spent more time abroad than he 

 exactly approved. But, as bis income was good, 

 and his house furnished with a good supply of 

 domestics, he was not aware of any abridgment of 

 comfort on this account, and ho therefore made no 

 objection to it. 



One day, some few months after his marriage. 



pcarance of his usual meal, but found his wife in 

 great trouble instead. 



" What is the matter '(" he asked. 



" Nancy went off at ten o'clock this morning," 

 replied the wife, "and the chamber-maid knows 

 no more about cooking a dinner than the man in 



" Couldn't she have doue it under your direc- 

 tion '" inquired the husband, very coolly. 



"Under my direction! Goodness! I should 

 like to see a dinner cooked under my direction ! " 



'■ Why so '!" asked the husband. " You certain- 

 ly do not mean that you cannot cook a dinner." 



"I certainly do, then," replied bis wife. "How 

 Should I know anything about cooking ? " 



The husband was silent, but his look of astonish- 

 ment perplexed and worried his wife. 



" You look very much surprised," she said, 

 after a moment or two bad elapsed, 



"And so I am," he onswered, "as much sur- 

 prised as I should be at finding the captain of one 

 of my ships unacquainted with navigation. Don't 

 know how to cook, and the mistress of a family !— 

 Jane, if there is a cookiug-scbool anywhere in the 

 city, go to it, and complete your education ; for it 

 is deficient in a very important particular." 



We need not speak of the result, except to say 

 that it was good. But we ask the reader, if 

 young wife was more of a lady for not knowing 

 how to cook a dinner? Would it not have been 

 far more commendable in her to have been al 



family, then it i 







and i 



sew. Is a captain qualified to guide a ship, if he 

 is ignorant of navigation ? Is a man prepared 

 manage a large mercantile establishment, if he has 

 not learned the merchant's business? Would 

 college faculty welcome a man to the professorshi 

 of Greek, who had never studied it? Then, what 

 shall we say of a female who occupies the place of 

 mistress of tbe Family, without knowing how the 

 work thereof should be done ? We say it is a dis 

 honor to her. She is less a lady for this inexcu! 

 able ignorance. 



Madame Roland could prepare her husband" 

 meals with her own hands, and at night delight 

 the most literary company of Fiance by her bril- 

 liant powers. Mrs. Washington, the mother of the 

 General, always attended to her domestic affairs, 

 even in the presence of the most distinguished 

 guests. Lafayette paid her a visit before his de- 

 parture for Europe, in the fall of 1778. He was 

 conducted to her mansion by one of her grandsons. 

 "There, sir, is my grandmother," said he, as tbey 

 approached the house. Lafayette looked up, aud 

 saw her at work in the garden, "clad in domestic- 

 made clutlies, ami her gray head covered with a 

 plain straw hat, the mother of his hero." She 

 gave Lufayette a cordial welcome, observing:— 

 "Ah. Maquis! you sec an old woman—but, come, 

 I can make you welcome to my poor dwelling, 

 without the parade of changing my dress." Mrs. 

 Murlha Washington, the wife of the General, was 

 no less distinguished for her management of house- 

 bold affairs. Sbe was " a good seamstress, a good 

 cook, and a good mother." She understood every 

 department of domestic labor, and was ever ready 

 to do what circumstances required. Mrs. Troupe, 

 the accomplished wife of a coptain of the British 

 navy, once visited her, and she gave the following 

 account of Mrs. Washington's appearance: 



"Well, I will honestly tell you I never was so 



ashamed in all my life. You see Madame , 



and Madame , and myself, thought we would 



visit Lady Washington ; ond as she was said to be 

 so grand a lady, we thought we must put on our 

 best bibs and bands. So we dressed ourselves in 

 our most elegant ruffles and silks, and were intro- 

 duced to her ladyship. Aud, don't you think, we 

 found her knitting, and ic'tth <i <!<>ck apron on!— 

 Sbe received us very graciously and easily, but 

 after the compliments were over, she resumed her 

 knitting. There we were, without a stitch of 

 work, and sitting in state; but General Washing- 

 ton's lady with her own hands was knitting stock- 

 ings for own husband." Noble example for a 

 woman of high position to set! In such circum- 

 stances her check apron was more ornamental 

 than the " ruffles " and " silks " of her fair visitors, 

 and her knitting-needles more becoming decora- 

 tions than a profusion of jewelry. 



No girl can become a true lady without knowl- 

 edge of household duties. Whatever may be her 

 literary proficiency, and her Eocial qualities, with- 

 out the ability to do house-work, if necessity 

 demand, her education is defective. A young girl 

 was presented to James I., as a prodigy in literary 

 attainment-;. The persou who introduced her, 

 boasted that she understood the ancient languages. 

 " I can assureyour Majesty," said he, " that she can 



both speak and write Latin, Greek and Hebrew " 

 "These ore rare attainments for a damsel," said 

 James; "lint can tht ipin/" Sue- might be fa- 

 lore of ages, bul without a knowl- 

 edge of household duties, she locked an important 

 acquisition. So we ask of the richly attired and 

 accomplished young womoo, who can rend French, 

 thumb the piuuo, and move bewitchm 

 able com puny, can the Jo hvux<-irork? If she can- 

 not, sbe in not a model lady. 



"There's a *pot of earth supremely blest. 



Here wooinarelans; tho mother, daughter, wife, 

 woy of life; 



Sl&ucrtfecmcnts. 





NOT A lit Mill G.-W.-.i.f.l.Mfi.-f.rmnre Tonne Mm 

 in . ■■ i, .-t >'■- (.. rr -.■.- 1. i., « !..■[„ sill be paid S30 to 176 

 ., v : ';... . . i ■ 

 l^AM'-UUIfS ll;i:il MILL. -Tlr-' r-uv, I:.,W,. Mill 



^Y FAHNESTOCK <Sc SOTNTS 







/ > 1. A\0 : 'I'll- superiority of Pliosc 



teow Agents for: 



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WITH WOODS IMPROVEMENT. 





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