54 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
CAMP LIFE IN A FARM HOUSE. 
MARY WAGER-FISHER. 
V. 
I remember during our first ramble in the fields on a 
Sunday afternoon, as we sat down on a rail to watch a 
large herd of cows grazing near, I remarked to Anaxi¬ 
mander who seemed less chatty than usual, that he did 
not seem to be enjoying Nature with his usual zest. 
“ I am afraid I don’t,” he replied. “It gives me a home¬ 
sick feeling to see dilapidated fences and such unkempt 
looks everywhere.” 
“ You like a good deal of man’s cunning along with your 
Nature, I see,” returned Madame. “ If you had more of 
the artistic sense you would see far more beauty in a tum¬ 
ble-down fence run over with vines and brambles than in 
a well-ordered inclosure, with clean fence corners. Now, 
I, who all these days feel like a Bohemian in clover, fairly 
revel in a scene like this, where Nature has had her own 
way to a considerable extent, and has not been trimmed 
and clipped and uprooted at every turn. I haven’t heard 
a lawn mower since I left home, and the grass, as Emerson 
says, stands with its green flag half-mast high. It has 
been an age sinpe I have seen such stately groups of this¬ 
tles and shapely,luxuriant stalks of mullein, that wear such 
a woolly, sleepy, but good-natured kind ©f look. You know 
I had a clump of them planted in the grounds at home.” 
Anaximander’s furor for kempt and tidy surroundings 
lasted long enough for him to have Carl mow the lawn 
and clean out all the nooks, corners and sheds. But after 
that he gradually subsided to the easy-going life about 
him. When he returned from the city he laid off his 
office regalia of fine linen and arrayed himself in a tennis 
shirt and soft hat, trimmed his trees, or stretched out in a 
hammockand read Latin with Wilfrid. (The latter, whose 
enjoyment of the farm was complete, declaring it to be 
the best outing place he had yet had, was the Mercury of 
the family. It was he who went to the “store,” a half mile 
away and formed a great liking for the Quaker store¬ 
keeper; who made visits to the neighboring farm-houses 
for butter, fresh vegetables and fruits, and when black¬ 
berries ripened along the creek, made startling demands 
upon the household purse, as I had offered him eight 
cents a quart for all he would pick, and, seized with the 
money-making spirit,he went “berrying” with the “kids” 
over the way, into “clearings” grown up with blackerry 
bushes. I, too, impressed with a sense of the great oppor¬ 
tunity of replenishing the home larder with jelly, stewed 
and strained and jellied and filled rows of bottles—there 
happened to be dozens of empty beer and mineral-water 
bottles in the mill—which were corked and in due time 
packed in a barrel for home transportation. 
“ And how do you ever expect to get the jelly out?” 
queried the head of the house. 
“ Make it hot again and run it out into glasses, as 
wanted.” 
As to the wholesomeness of unrestrained berry eating, I 
altogether disagree with the enthusiastic berry men who 
sometimes hold forth in the columns of The R. N.-Y. I 
believe, and my belief is reinforced by the experience of 
physicians, that the seeds of berries, if swallowed, are 
more or less pernicious, according to the gizzard-like qual¬ 
ities of the human organs of digestion. The berries, if 
seeded, are unquestionably wholesome, and the flavor of 
the pulp and juice is delicious. But the human stomach 
is no more fitted to digest the unbroken seeds of berries, 
grapes, cherries, apples, pears, etc., than it is to dispose of 
unground wheat or corn. One of our favorite ways of 
preparing blackberries was to steam or stew them thor¬ 
oughly, then mash them through a sieve fine enough to 
prevent the escape of the seeds, add sugar to the juice, 
boil it quickly and set away to cool. As a cordial or 
sauce it was greatly relished. 
Our meals were always simple, but, as we thought, de¬ 
licious, and each and all often had a hand in their prepa¬ 
ration. Anaximander prided himself upon beefsteak, cof¬ 
fee and cocoa. Wilfrid’s best work was in browning 
sliced potatoes in a bit of hot beef suet. Our breakfast 
dish of oatmeal, rolled wheat, Graham or granulated corn- 
meal, was cooked the night before. The farmers supplied 
us with fresh milk twice daily—at five cents a quart;—we 
had an abundance of rich cream, we paid a neighbor 35 
cents a pound for butter, which was brought every Friday 
in a tin “ kettle,” lined with fresh leaves. For most of the 
time the farmers supplied us with fresh eggs, prices rang¬ 
ing from 20 to 25 cents a dozen, and upon hucksters chiefly 
we depended for vegetables until the farmers’ late 
gardens came into bearing. That the gardens in this 
region should be so late and so scantily supplied with 
vegetables, seemed to our thrifty souls surprising. But 
by exercising “ foresight” and “ management” we always 
had enough, and of the best—peas, Lima beans, sweet 
corn, tomatoes, potatoes, white and yellow; beets, egg 
plants, squashes, cucumbers (very nice stewed and laid on 
toast, served with a creamy sauce), and always fruit of 
some kind. We had no pie or cake, but plenty of milk or 
fruit puddings and custards. The home-killed beef and 
mutton brought by a fresh-faced young butcher were ex¬ 
cellent, and Wilfrid’s hook and line often brought fish to 
the table, which were fried “ between sizzling slices of 
bacon.” The lad came in quite amused one day, saying 
that i.e must be a “boss” angler, as his catches had been 
reported in a local newspaper ! 
One of the hucksters who brought us vegetables, was an 
exceedingly large negro, a woman who must have weighed 
300 pounds or more, named Tubbs. But after a time Mrs. 
Tubbs and her market wagon came no more, and seeing 
one day a woman on the road whom I took for her I sent 
Wilfrid to ask what had happened. The child came back 
convulsed with laughter, saying : “It was not Mrs. Tubbs 
at all 1 She was very indignant at being taken for her, 
declaring that Mrs. Tubbs is a great deal larger than she 
is, and that anybody ought to be able to see that! ” 
A NOTE FROM WAYBACK. 
[Thefollowing note, signed Peleg Brown, Is taken from the Breeder’s 
Gazette.] 
This year it seemed like nobody else raised much wheat 
nor corn nor potatoes nor apples, an’ as we had a few 
showers just right it’s been sorter like old times, an’ I got 
that mortgage off at last. I thought one time buying that 
last 80 acres was goin’ to take the hull farm before it was 
done with. I reckon its pretty hard on lots of other fellers 
though, though it’s helped us out. It seems like there 
isn’t grease enough to go round this old wagon of a coun¬ 
try, an’ when one wheel gets a little all the others have to 
squeak for it. Full crops don’t pay nobody, an’ short 
crops only pay in mighty small spots. When I told Jemimy 
I was goin’ to writo to you an’ ask you to come down an’ 
spend an old fashioned Christmas with us she sez : “ Well 
you are a free man onc’t more an’ we’ve got a home all 
our own, an’ I don’t mind workin’ for friends.” You see 
Jemimy’s temper got a little techy in this tussle with the 
sheriff, an’ no wonder; she did the work of two all day 
an’ sat up all night darnin’ an’ patchin’ an’ keepin’ the 
children In clothes some way, I don’t know how, an’ I tell 
you, Mr. Editor, that’s what’s killin’ the farmers’ wives. 
Some of these dum hard fisted farmers don’t seem to see 
that their wives have a harder time than any old horse on 
the place, even when they could help it a little. 
Well, I ain’t given you any news. The principal thing 
down here now is the Farmers’ Alliance, an’ the fellers up 
at the court-house that has been sayin’ “ the country was 
prosperous an’ increasin’ in wealth,” an’ “everything was 
all right,” an’ “ be sure an’ vote the old ticket, boys,” an’ 
seemed to be ridin’ on top of Mr. Bellamy’s coach, are just 
about the bluest set you ever see. They don’t seem to 
like walkin’ ! Jemimy she jined first an’ I hung back, an’ 
when she came home every Friday night with her eyes 
snappin’ an’ her cheeks afire an’ talked about how the 
country had been run an’ the way legislation had been 
shaped by the great corporations, and the way the 
millionaires were being made an’ the middle classes wiped 
out, it made me feel like I did ’way back in ’61, when I 
hung back awhile an’ would hear the news from the front, 
and Jemimy (a slim girl then) would look at me with her 
head sorter flung up an’ her nostrils wide like a Thorough¬ 
bred filly. “ Yes,” sez she, “ it’s just the same, only now 
the enemy is in the rear an’ don’t stand up fair an’ square 
like the other, an’ if you ‘ boys in blue ’ and ‘ boys in 
gray ’ don’t get together an’ stand together you had 
better have let the country go to pieces then an’ saved all 
the blood an’ misery of the war.” 
You see, I’ve been a straightout Republican all along, 
an’ I thought all we needed was more manufacturers, an’ 
to strengthen the National credit by stickin’ to a gold 
basis and lettin’ the National banks tend to the finansis 
an’ be Senators and Secretaries of the Treasury and take 
care of us generally. I was sorter shy about its bein’ a 
Democratic game, but when I found old man Surbinder, 
who had voted for every Democrat from Jackson down, 
was a holdin’ back an’ sayin’ it was all done to keep Dem¬ 
ocrats from votin’ a straight ticket, it set me to thinkin’. 
After a while I got a copy of the St. Louis platform an’ 
one day I found the old man settin’ out in the yard and 
lookin’ purty solum, and I sez to him: “ Maybe we’d 
better look it over,” an’ we went to studyin’ it. 
Well, sir; first I knew he was a claimin’ It was solid 
Andrew Jackson Democracy and I was claimin’ it was Abe 
Lincoln Republicanism. “Why,” sez he, “didn’t Jackson 
fight agin’the United States Bank an’ take Government 
money away from it ?” “ Well,” sez I, “didn’t Lin¬ 
coln an’ old Thad Stevens an’ lots of the men that made 
the Republican party oppose the interest-bearing bonds 
and the National Bank system ?” an’ so on with most 
every plank, till at last the old man sez, “See here, Brown, 
I believe we both been dura fools, abusin’ one another an’ 
a votin’ the straight ticket all fixed up for us to put the 
same sort of fellers in office, no matter which party was 
on top, an’ I’m goin’ to quit an’ help the fellers that will 
stand on my platform.” “More silver dollars,” sez he, an’ 
“less tariff,” sez I. “Railroads brought down to honest 
bizness,” sez he. “Government money in the hands of the 
people instead of the banks,” sez I. “ Les3 bloody shirt,” 
sez he. “More woolen clothes,” sez I. “The country big¬ 
ger than the corporations,” sez he. “Darn the Big 4, the 
Western Union, and the Union Pacific,” sez 1. An’ then 
we hugged and shook hands, an’ the very next meetin’ we 
jined. An’ I tell you we hev all got our coats off an’ 
sleeves rolled up, an’ this last election is only just a 
starter. We are goin’ in on “ equal rights for all an’ spe¬ 
cial privileges for none,” an’ we are goin’ to stay ! It 
don’t take a very smart Aleck to say we’ll make some 
mistakes, but as our old Virginny friend Bowman us’t to 
say, “even the outcrosses will be in line.” 
IVomans IVork. 
A WORD TO AWAKEN OUR GIRLS.—I. 
E want all our subscribers to read the article about 
mush and milk by one of our 16 year-old Rural 
daughters, in another column of this department, and see 
if they do not think she has been well brought up. Prob¬ 
ably she had no thought, while writing, that her work 
would be made either the text or the pretext for a sermon; 
but we have a little “ preachment ” for the girls, and this 
helps us to bring it in nicely. 
First, we have a question to ask of our girls; it is this: 
“ Girls, you who are anxious to improve, are you doing 
your very best just where you are ?” It may be that some 
of you feel that things have not been made as favorable 
for you as they have for others whom you know; and be¬ 
cause you cannot do what you would, you are finding 
fault with circumstances, and not doing what is possible 
to you. But this is just the point on which success or 
JAN. 17 
failure turns; if the path which you would like to take 
seems hedged up for the present, open your eyes wide and 
look for one which you can take, in order to advance a 
little, if you cannot get along rapidly 1 There may be 
some who would like to become famous writers, but who 
see no possible way of reaching the goal. Are there not 
plenty of farmers’ daughters, 16 years or older, who might 
be using their talents and gaining practice that would be 
helpful in the future, by writing an occasional letter to 
their favorite paper, even though they could scarcely ex¬ 
pect pay for it ? By far too large a proportion of the 
articles that come to this department are sent from a street 
and number in some city, rather than from the farms. Is 
It not so plain as to be almost an axiom, that those who 
are in the midst of things, who know the life, its joys and 
its difficulties, and its needs, are the ones who can write 
the most helpful articles ? 
Farmers themselves ara awakening to their privileges, 
and are selecting men from among themselves to make 
laws for their own upraising; farmers’ daughters have 
school advantages which those who are yet in theirthirties 
did not have. These last can remember when it was the 
exception for the farmers’ girls to have more than a com¬ 
mon school education ; now it is largely the rule that all 
the bright ones go to the village school as soon as they are 
able to enter “ the principal’s room,” and from this they 
graduate into the normal schools, or directly into the dis¬ 
trict schools as teachers. Shall not this added advantage 
be for the help of the world right about them ? Practice 
makes perfect; it is the only thing that does. Let our 
girls practice what they learn in a manner to help others, 
while also helping themselves. 
The story of [two [farmers’ daughters whose helpful 
articles many of you see from week to week, as you pick 
up this or that paper, touches this point of making the 
best of yourselves where you are, and illustrates it well. 
One of them was an only child, who could scarcely be 
spared from her home, and she had few school advantages 
beyond what the district school could furnish. She was 
ambitious; but instead of fretting because her ambition 
could not be satisfied in the way she desired, she set to 
work to make what she could of her life within its limits. 
She studied in spare hours ; she made friends of those who 
had more knowledge than herself, that she might gain 
their aid; she stirred up the people of several neighbor¬ 
hoods to form circles for study in the winter season; she sup¬ 
plemented these with a Chautauqua course; she reviewed 
every book which she could lay her hands on; she gathered 
local news, and sent it to the nearest city papers; finally 
she began to send other articles to various papers, and 
after a little she found herself making enough to pay for 
her own clothes. Affairs at home worked around so that 
she was obliged to take entire charge of the household 
machinery connected with life on a large farm. An occa¬ 
sional attack of an illness that was “chronic” In that 
scarcely a year passed without one or more spells of it, 
added to the d iscouraging features of the case ; but still 
she worked and studied as she could, at odd moments, 
until now she stands a prominent example of the culture 
that can be attained on a farm amidst discouraging 
features—the most cultured woman we have ever seen, 
who has spent her whole life on a farm several miles dis¬ 
tant from any village—a woman of more culture than 99 
out of every 100 in the towns where they have every ad¬ 
vantage. The other we shall have to tell about next time. 
* * * 
It is said that there is seldom a wife who cannot find a 
way to her husband’s heart on occasions, through some 
favorite delicacy. We wonder just a little whether the 
plum pudding, the recipe for which is given in this num¬ 
ber, is the touchstone to the heart of the gentleman who 
kindly sends it. We wish he had thought of it before 
Christmas; but we are glad to have it now. Just in this 
connection, perhaps, we can impress this thought upon 
those who are so kind as to send us matter for publication. 
Much that is sent for special numbers does not reach us 
until after the copy for those numbers is already in the 
hands of the printers, when we have no recourse but to re¬ 
turn it to the writers. To be sure of insertion at any 
special time, matter should reach us three or four weeks 
before that time. 
$fti$'ccUatt(oujS gUmtising. 
In writing to advertisers, please mention The R. N.-Y. 
“ Dandruff 
should never be neglected be¬ 
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“The persistence of 
Itching is peace-destroy¬ 
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Scratching affords 
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causes Eczema. 
Packer’s Tar Soap 
Used for bath and shampoo, is not only de¬ 
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dandruff, allays itching and prevents falling 
of the hair. It is also of great service in treat¬ 
ment of baldness and SKIN DISEASES. 
25 cents. Sold by Druggists. 
V Sample (X> cake), 10cents, stamps. Mention The Rural New-Yorker. 
The PACKER MFG. CO., 100 Fulton St., N. Y. 
