THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. 



395 



A Chapter for Husbands. 



Messrs Editors — I am, I suppose, a fault- 

 finding, fretful sort of a body, disposed to 

 make a fuss, and not as submissive and 

 gentle as I ought to be; but somehow or 

 other, I am not satisfied with the state of 

 things in this world, and am not quite 

 willing to wait for the better times in the 

 world to come, and so I would fain take 

 up a cudgel and pound Mr. Somebody or 

 Mr. Everybody, hoping, amongst them 

 all, to hit the right ones. You see it is 

 the Mr.'s I am out with, but I don't mean 

 y 0ll — not at all — but it's the other gentle- 

 man ! 



We women, all over the country, are 

 getting old so fast — so lean, lank, withered 

 and worn, I am vexed about it and mor- 

 tified too. What's the meaning of it? 

 Now*you men will work hard, and yet 

 look better, I declare, at forty or fifty, than 

 ever; but we insignificant women fade, 

 lose our teeth and bloom, and turn grey, 

 and have to stuff with cotton, wear head 

 dresses, Crinolines, &c, to make a sem- 

 blance to a veritable woman. It's too bad, 

 I say, and who's to blame ? 



You are very kind to us on board the 

 cars, and give up your seat, and give us 

 the best — very attentive and polite, and 

 all that ; and you are willing too, to get 

 us nice silk dresses, and splendid hats, 

 with ribbons and feathers, and wait upon 

 us to church, open and shut the gate, carry 

 our books or baskets ! such gentlemen — 

 such kindness is really overwhelming! — 

 The world can see all your goodness, and 

 of course you are not to blame ! 



But then there is another side to this 

 picture, and one T have seen too often, and 

 see every day. You who never see be- 

 neath the surface, and are too dignified to 

 bother yourselves with trifles, — mere noth- 

 ings, I want to "speak in meeting," and 

 let the easily humbugged multitude see 

 behind the scenes. To find out what 

 makes more than half the women prema- 

 turely old, and cross, perhaps, zs, they are 

 overtaxed. You expect too much of them. 

 You have your houses and affairs so ar- 

 ranged that they are constantly on the 

 alert to bring things around. An ambi- 

 tious, sensitive woman is anxious to do all 

 left for her. She wants her house in or- 

 der, her children cared for, and her hus- 

 band's meals in season, and clothes kept 

 in readiness. And beside, wishes time to 



make or receive calls or visits, and be so- 

 ciable. But how can all this be accom- 

 plished with such miserable help as wo- 

 men have had for years past ? And amidst 

 all her endless cares two thirds of them 

 have to contend with numberless difficul- 

 ties, which their husbands might remove 

 with very little trouble or expense, and 

 that is what I want to scold about. You 

 polite men do not keep your wives in 

 wood — not half of you. You live in your 

 great nice houses, and you want fires kept 

 here and there, but you want her to cut it 

 and bring it in, and put it on to burn ! 

 You let her toil with an old leaky bucket 

 or pump, till human patience is exhaust- 

 ed ; and through your neglect and pro- 

 crastination, you allow her to be fretted, 

 worried, taxed, wearied, beyond all rea- 

 son, day after day, and year after year! 

 Meanwhile the buttons must be kept on, 

 the rents sewed up, the garments made, 

 the victuals cooked, the children pleased, 

 the house clean and tidy — (good gracious, 

 what don't you expect of us ?) — your 

 friends entertained, &c, &c, ! Morning, 

 noon, and evening, a woman's cares are 

 never ended. 0, the endless minutia of 

 a housekeeper's duties ! 



Now if you strong and youthful men 

 would but do your duty, the roses would not 

 leave our cheeks so fast. Take better care 

 of us. Provide conveniences — give us 

 plenty of wood and water handy for us. 

 Be kind and speak gently to us, and don't 

 grumble if the potatoes are not warm, 

 when we have waited two hours for you, 

 and give us a sweet kiss occasionally, and 

 may be we should stay young and lovely. 



Ultra. 

 Moor's Rural New Yorker. 



Vinegar. 



The juice of one bushel of sugar-beets, worth 

 twenty-five cents, and which any farmer can 

 raise with little cost, will make from five to six 

 gallons of vinegar equal to the best elder wine. 

 First wash and grate the beets, and express the 

 juice in a cheese press, or in any other way 

 which a little ingenuity can suggest, and put 

 the liquor into a barrel, cover the bung with 

 gauze and set it*in the sun, and in fifteen or 

 twenty days it will be fit for use. By this 

 method the very best of vinegar may be ob- 

 tained . without any great trouble, and I hope 

 all who like good vinegar will try it. — Ohio 

 Valley Farmer. 



