Women Make the Homes Make the 
woman And The Home. 
FRENZY, FASHIONS AND FADS. 
URELY it can be only chance that brings these alien 
topics together to be discussed, and we would not 
for a moment seem to convey the idea that there is a hid¬ 
den connection between them, or that fads either lead to, 
or are a sign of “ mental alienation !” 
And now comes a man with an authoritative medical 
prefix to his name, who shows to his own satisfaction that 
the exercise of will-power on the part of the patient rosy 
check the earlier manifestation of insanity—nip it in the 
bud, as one might say. He quotes an English specialist 
in mental diseases as asserting his belief that two-thirds of 
the women under his charge came to the point of requir¬ 
ing restraint, through the habitual indulgence of an origi¬ 
nally evil temper. Now it is surely bad enough to have a 
lunatic physician (if we may be pardoned for so dubbing 
him), limit the results of his observations regarding ill- 
temper to the women—but when in connection with this 
thought, we take into consideration the oft repeated as¬ 
sertion of other authorities that far the larger propor¬ 
tion of the cases of mental alienation occur among farm¬ 
ers’ wives, it clearly amounts to an Imputation of ill- 
temper to that particular claes. What lawful punishment 
can be brought home to this slanderous man of authority ? 
The. Young Ladies’ Bazar says that any woman ought to 
be able to make herself a hat in these days, when only the 
foundation need be stiff and smooth, and a twist, a pult, 
and a tack will make the drapery assume wearable form. 
So innumerable are the shapes in hats, that no OLe may 
dare to say whether any particular hat is the style or not, 
provided it has the one essential, a low crown—or none at 
all. It is just that little twist and pull and tack that the 
average woman is anxious about, but this season she has 
only to make it look careless. 
“ Of the woman who has not yet been bitten with 
the spoon-collecting mania, you can safely say that she 
will be soon.” Apropos of the fad for collecting spoons, 
which has quickly grown to such proportions, it has be¬ 
come “the thing” in household publications to advise the 
presenting of a spoon to the daughter of the house upon 
each succeeding birthday, that she may be “ fitly furnished 
forth ” when she arrives at what might be called the 
“spoony” period, and has need of spoons for her do wtr. The 
idea is a good one now ; but what if the “ fad ” should so 
change that by the time mademoiselle needs spoons, it is 
imperative that spoons be in sets? Then her birthday 
spoons, as well as mamma’s Liberty, Whittier, Lincoln, 
Knickerbocker, Moll Pitcher, Witch, Dexter and innumer¬ 
able other styles, must needs be relegated to a top shelf in 
the back closet, or be recast, if solid. 
In these days one must have a score or more of different 
varieties of spoons for ice cream and almonds, for oranges 
and olives, and what not—possibly even for meats and 
other substantials ere long. Not the least of the merits of 
these various spoons is that they furnish a topic for the 
conversation of the guests, and to have furnished a new 
topic for scclety is to have deserved an ovation. Time was 
when the guests were not supposed to make remarks about 
the various belongings of their entertainers, but we have 
chaugtd all that; it was merely a fad of our too-polite an¬ 
cestors. * ' * 
“ Every one to his taste.” Thus it is that while some 
are discussing highly-seasoned and spiced foods as the in¬ 
vention of the evil genius of the human stomach, others 
are loud in their praise. Mrs. Abel, it may be remem¬ 
bered, asserted strongly that the utmost of economy of 
food was impossible without the aid of relishes for use 
with cheap and comparatively tasteless foods. Now 
another enthusiast makes special plea for celery seed and 
curry powder, insisting that they are indispensable to good 
cooking, making appetizing many dishes which would 
otherwise be unpalatable. 
WHO SHALL WRITE FOR THE HOME PAPER? 
N answer to the invitation of the Chief Cook to discuss 
the article by Sara Armistead N. in The Rukal of 
March 7, I would suggest that “in the day when some 
editor will have the courage to pass by the ready-made 
professional writer who hires out by the year, and pay 
any and every woman a modest sum for anything she can 
write,” then will “ any and every woman ” be entering 
the lists as professionals. Will they not ? 
If the farmers’ wives and daughters received “ modest 
little sums ” for their letters, they could not with certain¬ 
ty be credited with writing the said letters solely for the 
love of chatting cosily with their sisters, could they ? And 
then there would be a difference in the “ modest sums ” 
according to the length and merit of the respective letters, 
would there not ? There would certainly have to be an 
editor under any supposed circumstances to sort over 
these letters from “any and every woman” in order to 
publish the best and remit a certain “ modest sum ” for 
the same, and the editor would have to be duly compen¬ 
sated for the time and trouble expended ; if the proprietors 
of the paper considered the editor’s judgment and work to 
be worth to them *10,000 per annum I do not understand 
why “ any and every woman ” should not be glad of it. 
Can “ any and every woman ” chat cozily on paper ? If so, 
then would we all come under the head of “ ready-made 
writers if any such there be. 
In reference to the $10,100 a year editress, the lady from 
Mississippi states that the “ actual good was done when 
this devoted, philanthropic editress permitted some tired, 
over worked soul to gratuitously occupy a little space in 
which she, uncons-ciously doubtless, showed the clear 
shining of her patient, persevering life.” The case is an 
entirely supposititious one—is it not ?—about the good that 
was actually done by the “ tired, over-worked soul,” and 
that which was left undone by the “philanthropic 
editress?” Oh, ye of little faith, can je not render unto 
Caesar the things which are Caesar’s and unto every man 
or woman his or her due? Depend upon it the talented 
editress was patient, persevering and capable, or she 
never would have commanded $ 10,000 a year for her ser¬ 
vices. Very likely she once occupied as humble a home as 
any over worked soul who contributed to her department, 
and from the fullness of a well-stored mind and riper expe¬ 
rience she was able to write helpful lessons of love. “ At 
$100 a column ?” Ye 3 , at $100 a column and well worth it, 
too 1 though we understood that she was paid by the year, 
and not per column, like any ordinary scribbler. 
Would it not be fair to infer that some one with a “ ready 
pen ” could—well say actually interview good housekeep¬ 
ers and faithfully take notes and write up their ideas and 
experiences perhaps better than the housekeepers could do 
it themselves ? Some of the most practical housekeepers 
think they hardly have time to write regular duty letters 
to their relatives, let alone writing for newspapers; yet 
they always have time enough to spend in talking to a 
caller about their dainty dishes and household economies 
and portidres and fabrics ! Suppose the caller had time 
to write this talk up for some paper, would the informa¬ 
tion not be helpful ? It seems to me that applied business 
principles always bring the best results. 
Ohio. DOCIA DYEENS. 
By all means let farmers’ wives and daughters write from 
their inmost experience the helpful, practical articles 
which, disseminated in their home paper, will become a 
benefit to other toilers. As Sara Armistead N. says, this 
would enlarge and broaden their minds; let them do it and 
all honor to the editor who gives them the chance ; but I 
think your correspondents err in speaking with bitterness 
and contempt of the editress who was paid $ 10,000 a year 
by a certain household journal. If her home with its 
dainty accessories was described, it was probably because 
the publishers knew that her work was so well known 
that any detail of the personality behind it would be wel¬ 
come, even to the toilers, who, if their lives are hard, like 
for that very reason, to step once in a while into fairy 
land ; else why are such light books, dealing with the 
lives of the rich and great, read with such avidity ? Why 
is the magnificence of the Astors and Vanderbilts and 
Floods told by the press if the people do not want to hear 
of it ? 
The paper is the voice of the people; as a way of con¬ 
demning, let the people cease to buy that sheet which does 
not voice high morality and pure thought. We do not 
want sensation, let us check it in this way. Editors buy 
what people wish to read. 
Nor do I think it just to assume that because one has a 
princely salary and luxurious surroundings she is inca¬ 
pacitated on that account for serious, helpful work in other 
spheres—from which she may have come. The great were 
the small once; in most cases they have hewn their way 
through rocks of difficulty by perseverance and Industry, 
and who will begrudge them the well earned reward ? Not 
I, for one, though I am one of the t mall. Place, power, 
money, come as we deserve them, and very many of these 
literary stars have the kindest of hearts, and spend both 
knowledge and time to benefit others directly and indi¬ 
rectly. Through their long training they are as well fitted 
to say what should be said as is the skilled housewife to 
make a perfect pat of butter. No one blames a physician 
for accepting high fees; why blame the writers? Long 
effort has given their work a market value, so that it is 
worth the seemingly high sum. Their very name brings a 
revenue which publishers cannot afford to ignore, so that 
articles of equal merit, sometimes, are thrown aside for 
theirs; but patience, Unknown, your time will come if you 
persevere. 
It is too much the custom for those below to ascribe the 
good fortune in fame or money of those above them to 
chance instead of work and energy, forgetting that there 
is no chance, and that genius is work. Let workers write 
as they can, woik as they can and cheerily clasp the bauds 
of those who have made for themselves a niche above 
them. We must be grateful to them for their knowledge 
of the classics, in which in the “good time coming” we 
shall all participate ALICE dknison wiley. 
HOW WE FURNISHED OUR SITTING-ROOM. 
O begin with, there was no money to spare, and I had 
no way of making any except by means of my “ hen 
dairy,” as John laughingly called it; but l was determiued 
to furnish that room, and do it nicely too, no matter how 
long it took to do it. 
After much thought I started out to get a club for The 
Kukal New-Yorker, which accommodating weekly offers 
“ anything ” its subscribers may want as a premium. 
After much vexation of spirit, I succeeded in getting the 
requisite number to entitle me to a handsome wall paper 
for both side wall and ceiling. The worst part of my task 
was then dote; for I do hate canvassing for anything, even 
for so thoroughly good a journal as The R. N.-Y. 
We had no fireplace, and, though I like an open fire much 
the better, John said that on account of some peculiarity in 
the chimneys we could not build one, but, “ to encourage 
me in my wild goose chase, and keep my courage up,” he 
would buy an Aldine fire place. 
When the paper was on, my rag carpet down, (I really 
could not afford a better,) and the fire place in position, I 
felt rich indeed, although there was not an article of fur¬ 
niture in the room, or one to put in it. John is quite a 
tinker, and during the long winter evenings he constructed 
shelves fastened to the wall on each side of the fire place ; 
on one side they extended from it to the corner, on the 
other side from it to the door of the room, and were in¬ 
tended for books, (I was surprised to find that they add to 
the apparent size of a room.) These I stained with cherry 
enamel, and then wai ed patiently for further develop¬ 
ments. 
By assiduous attendance I succeeded in making my hens 
lay nicely during the winter, when eggs brought a good 
price. You may be sure very few eggs were used In the 
family, and every cent obtained from their sale was saved 
in the box set apart for tie purpose, until there was 
enough to buy a chair with an embossed leather back and 
seat, and an arm chair to match. The two cost $30—a big 
price to pay, but they were really elegant, and we did not 
mean to invest in anything else so costly. A wicker 
rocker, quite pretty, at $5, and a carpet rocker at $4, had 
to be enough for the present, for we we e growing impa¬ 
tient to get our pretty room in usable condition. 
At Christmas John presented me with a $6 cherry table, 
with a top 2Sx28 inches, and prettily turned and carved 
legs. A lounge having a cherry frame, and cover of cre¬ 
tonne wit h ripe cherries and leaves scattered over a light 
ground, together with a handsome hanging lamp, com¬ 
pleted the furniture we had to buy. We could not man¬ 
age window draperies just yet, so contented ourselves with 
shades, with painted dadoes in colors of cherry and gilt. 
A few pictures moved in from other rooms, and our books, 
picked up from all over the house, and placed on the 
shelves, completed a really pretty room. We have more 
plans for the future by which we think to improve It, but 
we must wait for the means, which we will try to do 
patiently. 
One thing of the first importance in furnishing is to set¬ 
tle in your own mind before you commence, what scheme 
of color will best suit your room and your taste; then 
never for a moment lose sight of it, or be tempted to 
buy something that does not correspond with the* rest 
simply because it is pretty and cheap. Florence h. 
THE PETS. 
LITTLE “tot” of two summers came Id while the 
mother was chastising her pet kitten for having 
been on the dinner table during a moment’s absence. 
The little girl stood by an instant in perplexed astonish¬ 
ment at the unwonted proceeding. 
“Mamma, ’top it,” she cried, snatching the kitten from 
her. The mother explained that it was necessary to pun¬ 
ish the kitten while young to make it good, and that if 
properly punished it might never need the ordeal again. 
The little girl with a heroic but pained look In the sweet 
eyes, handed it back and said : 
“Mamma, s’itch kitty ’nough make ’im good.” 
In a few days she pulled a plate from the dinner table 
and broke it. She ran to her mother, threw herself into 
her arms, and amid sobs said : 
“Baby bake p’ate, mamma, s’itch ’im, make ’im good.” 
After this I noticed that she would “ put the kitten to 
bed ” and cover it up, and work with it patiently and 
gently until she taught it to “ mind her,” and nothing 
would induce that cat to get up until she uncovered it. 
We had three kittens once that we taught to “ play 
hall,” and I’ve laughed till the tears started at their comi¬ 
cal antics with a touch of innocent cunning mingled in the 
most ludicrous manner with a dignified sense of having 
been taught to do it. 
Ours, too, was a “ pet ridden ” farm ; but of all our 
favorites our dogs afforded the most “ side splitting ” fun 
as well as some pathetic scenes. 
“ Buff ” was a Scotch terrier of the lovely shade of color 
that suggested his name. I once had a spell of illness, and 
Buff insisted on coming in every morning, when the doc¬ 
tor was admitted, to stand by the bed for a look at me. 
He frequently saw the doctor administer potions, and 
heard the request “ show the doctor your tongue.” 
One day he came in somewhat languidly, put up his 
feet, put out his tongue, and looked over his shoulder at 
the doctor. “ Yes,” I said, “ go show the doctor your 
tongue.” He went, planted his feet on the doctor’s krees 
and actually showed him his tongue. “ True,” said the 
doctor as well as he could for laughing, “ this dog is not 
well.” 
We had one little dog whose death was so pathetic that 
ever after there was a regretful sadness in my association 
with our pets ; in ltsser degree, even as a mother looks on 
the children that are left, constantly reminding her of the 
lost. 
His bright, bead-like eyes, black as je*-, suggested the 
name Gipsy, which we abbreviated to Jip without a 
prophetic thought that his death would be more heroic 
and almost as patriotic as that of poor little Dora’s Jip. 
The brave little dog received his death wounds in 
defense of his master who was attacked by a huge 
mastiff in the field one day. Jip flew at his throat furi¬ 
ously and clung to it so tenaciously that the mastiff’s at¬ 
tention was diverted long enough for my husband to procure 
