1875.] 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST, 
189 
■well, but when a fire is built it burns off with a most 
unpleasant odor. We know of nothing so good as 
plumbago or black lead, and all the stove blackings 
put up in packets under various fancy names, are 
some form of this, more or less pure. Black lead 
is of such a “ greasy ” nature that properly rubbed 
upon the iron it will adhere and form a continuous 
film all over it so as to thoroughly protect the sur¬ 
face from the action of the air, and consequent 
rust, but it will not resist water, and the stoves 
should be stored where the rain cannot reach them. 
The old method of mixing the blacking with water 
and applying it wet, and then rubbing with a brush 
with some dry blacking, is founded upon correct 
principles, and if well done will give a complete 
covering. All movable parts, such as legs, small 
doors, and the like, should be placed inside of the 
stove before putting it away, or there will be much 
hunting for them next fall. 
Concealing a Stove. 
If there is no convenient place to store the stove, 
or for other reasons it is necessary that it should 
remain in the room where it has been used, it may 
be, in most cases, easily concealed, and even con¬ 
verted into a sightly and convenient piece of furni¬ 
ture. All that is needed is a board of suitable size 
to set upon the top of the stove ; this has a strip 
at each corner for a leg ; the legs may be braced if 
need be, and the whole covered and draped accord¬ 
ing to fancy, with chintz, or other convenient ma¬ 
terial. The engraving gives the idea, the manner 
of carrying it out will vary with circumstances. 
Another Trap for Rats. 
Though there have been in the American Agricul¬ 
turist, from time to time, numerous descriptions of 
plans for trapping rats and mice, yet the number 
of methods is not near¬ 
ly exhausted. “A Sub¬ 
scriber ” sends us his 
method, which he 
thinks “the best out,” 
and which is explained 
by the accompanying 
illustration. He takes 
a flour barrel or a keg, 
and ties over the top a 
sheet of very stout stiff 
paper, or an untanned 
sheepskin stripped of 
the wool. Upon this 
cover he places corn 
or meal, and feeds the 
vermin in this way in some secluded place, un¬ 
til they become fearless of danger, and quite 
at home upon the cover. He then smears the 
cover around the center with glue, and sprinkles 
com, wheat, or meal upon it, which, when the glue 
is dry, adhers firmly to the paper or the skin. He 
then cuts two slits crossing each other, as shown in 
the engraving, several inches long, by which the 
central portion of the cover is made very treacher¬ 
ous footing. When the rats run across this center 
they slip through into the barrel, from which there 
is no means of escape. The openings instantane¬ 
ously close up themselves, and other rats follow. 
Don’t Touch, the Children. 
BT MBS. E. S. LINCOLN. 
TRAP FOR RATS. 
Of the many trials that farmer’s wives have to 
endure, not one is more difficult to avoid, and yet 
none more cruel, than that of having to let one’s 
carefully reared little ones associate with strange 
hired help. My experience in this line has been 
such that while I extend a friendly welcome to the 
stranger, I am mentally crying out to him or her, 
as the case may be: “ Don’t touch my children ! ” 
Break the dishes, waste the stores, spoil the meals, 
let the horses take cold, the colts starve, the cows 
dry up, the rats ran riot in uncovered feed-bins— 
anything, so long as you leave my little one’s un¬ 
tarnished. Everything else can be endured if you 
don’t touch with unclean hand the souls of my 
children. It seems to me that it is a crime well 
nigh unpardonable to sully the innocence of con¬ 
fiding little boys and prattling girls, yet there is so 
much of it done, and their poor mothers are all un¬ 
aware of the presence of the serpent in their flower 
garden until it has become impossible to ever again 
erase his slimy trail. 
Not many years since, needing some one to cut 
firewood for the approaching summer, my husband 
engaged a lad of seventeen, to whom he awarded 
the highest praise as a diligent and efficient worker, 
especially at chopping and splitting wood. Erom 
the first, the boy, whose name was Marion, seemed 
to feel sure of a friend in me. There is in nearly 
every large family of children one who seems less 
favored and beloved than the others.—“ The black 
sheep of the flock ”—such was poor Marion in his 
own cheerless home. For days and nights in suc¬ 
cession during the summer, when a little boy, he 
had lived in the woods near their house, coming 
home for food only when pressed by hunger. His 
one ambition, he confided to me, was to obtain a 
good education. Nothing could have appealed 
more effectually to my heart for the friendless lad 
than this. Had I not known what it was to be com¬ 
pelled to live in ignorance while thirsting for 
knowledge and culture ? To know myself wholly 
devoid of grace and beauty, to be bashful and awk¬ 
ward, and wholly unable to please while I so longed 
for mother-love and home petting? Ah, but I 
had. So I gave Marion my sympathy and pointed 
out to him the speediest way of reaching his goal. 
My boys, aged twelve, six, and four years, liked 
to go with him to the wood lot where he chopped, 
to the field and garden when he hoed, and he 
seemed to be as fond of their company as they were 
of him. One day while Mr. L. was away, he was 
employed near the barn, and the children were with 
him as usual. As I stepped to the porch to call the 
boys to dinner, I could hear Marion singing loudly. 
They being out of sight, and not likely to hear 
my call, I followed the sound of his voice to the 
farther side of the bam. But, getting near enough 
to distinguish the words, I found his song to be a 
most obscene piece of ribaldry, interspersed with 
foul-mouthed comments of his own, to the hearing 
of which the wealth of worlds could not have 
tempted me for one moment to expose my innocent 
little ones. My first agonized thought was, as I 
but too well remember, of the weeks that this had 
been going on, unknown to me. Of course, the boy 
was instantly discharged, but the contamination 
that he had brought into my flock was not to be so 
summarily expelled. I could only mourn in anguish 
of heart over my children, so cruelly robbed of the 
priceless gem of soul-purity. I am sure the boy did 
not intend to cause me such 
bitter sorrow in return for 
kindness received. I am afraid 
that his very earliest exist¬ 
ence began in moral leprosy, 
and that he had not the 
faintest idea of his own degra¬ 
dation. Poor boy! Never 
to have known the beauti¬ 
ful innocence of infancy : to 
put on proper behavior only 
as one does their best suit, 
to appear in company! How 
can such persons become re¬ 
formed, I sometimes wonder; 
what, to one who has never 
known purity, is the process 
of repentance and turning 
from sin unto righteousness ? 
What sense can the words 
“ye must be born again” 
convey to their minds ? God 
only knows. God pity them ! 
But, oh mothers, be care¬ 
ful not to let them sully 
your children. You can never press your boy to 
your heart again with the same proud fondness, 
never gaze into the dear, deep, untroubled eyes 
again after the agent of evil has done his work. 
Be ever on your guard against this source of con¬ 
tamination, or you may mourn in vain when the 
evil is done. 
I33DYS ©MILS’ (DdDWMHSa 
Aunt Sue’s Chats. 
Fancy Boxes.— Ada. A very pretty little box, to hold 
bon-kons and other small articles, may be made by any 
“ little girl,” who has as much “ gumption ” as you seem 
to have. Do you see the picture of a bat? (fig. 2). It 
looks very much like a hat, doesn’t it? Well, it is made 
out of a flat paper-box, such as is used for pills and other 
little notions, and a round piece of card. Go to a drug¬ 
gist and get a round card-board pill or other box, about 
%% inches in diameter, like fig. 1. Then cut a piece of 
card into a circle of about 4 inches diameter, and with 
strong white 
thread sew the 
bottom of the 
pill-box to the 
larger card, 
right in its cen¬ 
ter. Nevermind 
if the stitches 
show, the candy 
will hide them 
on the inside, 
and the Japan varnish on the outside. It must be sewed 
very firmly, so that lifting the cover off the box shall not 
break the stitches. Now I must tell you how to make 
the varnish. It is composed of shellac, lamp-black, and 
alcohol, subjected to a gentle heat. But you can make it 
in a much more simple way from black sealing-wax; 
break the wax into very small pieces, and put them into 
a wide-mouthed, well stoppered vial. Cover the sealing- 
wax with alcohol, put the vial in a warm place, shake it 
Fig. 1.—BOX FOR THE HAT. 
Fig. 2.—HAT COMPLETE. 
occasionally, and in two or three days the varnish will bO 
ready for use. Now paint or varnish your hat with it. 
It will not take long to dry, but don’t apply it to the up- 
per and the under parts both at one time ; let one part 
dry thoroughly before you paint the other. Now take 
about a quarter of a yard of narrow black ribbon, and tie 
it around the hat, and if you can paint the name of some 
vessel on it, it will look more finished. The sealing-wax 
varnish is a very handy thing to have in the house, as it is 
often useful in freshening up a shabby work-basket, for 
instance, or other little article. If you prefer red varnish, 
use red sealing-wax. Remember that this, like all other 
No. 444.— Picture Puzzle. —“ The Old Man of the Mountain ” is there, 
if you can only find him. Come, you of sharp eyes and quick wits, and point out the 
venerable gentleman. The mountain is a dreary one, and no wonder he looks lonely. 
varnishes, takes fire readily, and when at work, keep it 
at a safe distance from the lamp and fire. Keep well 
corked, and when too thick, thin carefully with alcohol. 
You will have to give the hat three or four coats ol 
varnish perhaps, so don’t be discouraged if after the first 
coat it should look like a “ singed cat.” 
Minerva G. II. asks me if I can tell her “ how to make 
something for the little ones, as fascinating as paper 
