V--  :;;- 
'■■■ 
TEN  THOUSAND  DOLLARS’  WORTH  OF 
PRICE  OF  THE  RURAL  NEW-YORKER 
ONE  DOLLAR  A  YEAR.  *  *  *  GENERAL  PREMIUM  NUMBER 
SPECIAL”  PREMIUMS  FOR  SUBSCRIBERS. 
REDUCED  FROM  $2.00  A  YEAR. 
INQUISITIVE  SURVIVORS— WTT A T’S  BECOME  OF  OUR  FRIENDS?  Fig.  313. 
INQUISITIVE  SURVIVORS. 
Our  artist  has  made  a  happy  hit  in  the  above  draw¬ 
ing.  Christmas  has  come  and  gone,  leaving  pleasant 
memories  in  the  farm  household — not  the  least  of 
which  is  the  remembrance  of  the  good  dinner  cooked 
and  served  by  the  housewife  and  her  daughters.  But 
while  this  dinner  was  a  great  thing  for  the  people  in¬ 
side  the  house,  it  brought  trouble  and  disaster  to  the 
humble  barnyard  folks.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Turkey  mourn 
the  loss  of  two  of  their  most  promising  children.  Mrs. 
Hen  can’t  seem  to  find  her  precious  daughter,  Miss 
Broiler,  and  there  is  a  like  trouble  in  almost  every 
family.  Some  of  the  most  prominent  citizens  of  the 
barnyard  seem  to  have  mysteriously  disappeared.  The 
places  they  once  lent  color  to  now  know  them  no  more. 
We  may  imagine  that  the  residents  of  the  barnyard 
_ the  “underfoot  world” — have  met  and  held  a 
caucus  and  appointed  a  committee  of  investigation 
to  hunt  up  the  missing  ones.  They  first  found  a  chop¬ 
ping  block  and  axe  with  a  gory  track  leading  towards 
the  kitchen  door.  Following  this,  they  have  entered 
the  kitchen  and  are  now  standing  before  the  range 
which  seems  to  throw  them  off  the  track  of  their 
search.  Well  it  may,  for  there  their  friends  and  rela¬ 
tives  ceased  to  be  classed  as  “raw  material”  and  were 
manufactured  into  a  “  finished  product.”  This  com¬ 
mittee  would  not  recognize  the  completed  dinner  as 
their  own  flesh  and  kin  any  more  than  the  sheep  rec¬ 
ognizes  his  own  wool  in  the  coat  of  the  summer  visitor. 
This  committee  will  probably  go  back  to  head¬ 
quarters  and  “resolve  ”  that  to  the  best  of  their  be¬ 
lief,  their  friends  have  been  “slaughtered  to  make  a 
farmer's  holiday.”  After  a  full  and  fair  discussion,  let 
us  hope  that  something  like  the  following  will  be 
adopted: 
Whereas :  Certain  of  our  friends  have  contributed  most  satisfac¬ 
torily  to  the  Christmas  dinner  of  Farmer  True  and  family ,  thus  reflect¬ 
ing  great  honor  upon  this  barnyard  and 
Whereas:  These  friends  who  have  gone  before  have  left  us  a  noble 
example  and  illustration  of  the  appropriate  and  legitimate  end  of  all 
barnyarders.  therefore,  be  It 
Resolved:  That  we  hold  ourselves  In  readiness  to  follow  In  the  Illus¬ 
trious  footsteps  of  our  predecessors  and  thus  contribute  to  the  enjoy¬ 
ment  of  our  beloved  Farmer  True,  and  to  that  end  we  promise  to  keep 
ourselves  In  fat  and  juicy  condition  so  long  as  the  said  Farmer  True 
provides  the  necessary  grain. 
Though  we  can  see  but  a  small  part  of  the  kitchen, 
it  is  evident  that  “  modern  imps  ”  (improvements)  have 
come  into  it.  That  range  is  a  labor  saver  of  itself. 
How  much  more  economical  and  convenient  than  the 
old-time  cooking  stove!  We  hope  our  friend  in  Kansas 
who  has  kept  such  a  careful  record  of  her  bread  and 
pies  had  such  a  range  to  work  over.  We  trust  that 
the  other 'side  of  the  room  would  show  an  arrange¬ 
ment  for  water  in  the  house,  set  tubs  for  washing,  and 
all  other  conveniences,  including  a  good  supply  of  dry 
fuel.  Give  the  farmer’s  wife  the  labor-saving  tools  in 
the  kitchen,  if  you  feel  like  thoroughlv  enjoying  your 
dinner.  You  can’t  enjoy  it  if  every  plate  contains  a 
poition  of  “  roast  mother.” 
