Women Make the 
Homes. 
Woman And The Home. 
Homes Make the 
Nation. 
S INCE “ P. P.’s” description of the work-bag given in 
this issue was written we have received an exchange 
giving a similar one as a “ new and pretty conceit.” P. P. 
says that the model for the bag belonged to one of her an¬ 
cestors of the second generation back. Perhaps the new¬ 
ness of the idea in the exchange mentioned consisted in 
the fact that the bag was made with a center of brown 
plush with a yellow surah frilled outside, and called a 
‘‘sunflower ” bag. * * * 
Another correspondent, discussing the “ dark side,” 
speaks ot a scheme of which she has read, for making the 
farm life more social by placing the buildings of neighbor¬ 
ing farms as close to one another as possible. Somewhere in 
the Eastern States (and it comes to us dimly that South 
Ha iley, Mass., is the place), is a town laid out after just 
tnis plan. The buildings line both sides of a wide, shaded 
street, and the narrow farms run back a long distance at 
right angles to the street. The place looks very pretty, 
as shown in views for the stereoscope. If we have friends 
living near this place, or in it, we should be glad to hear 
from them. A letter showing the practical workings of 
the plan could hardly fail to be interesting to many 
readers. * * * 
A caustic essay on “The Wild Women as Social Insur¬ 
gents,” by Mrs. Lynn Linton in a late number of the 
Nineteenth Century, proclaims its keynote in the descrip¬ 
tion of the “ Wild Woman.” “ That loud and dictatorial 
person, insurgent and something more, who suffers no 
one’s opinion to influence her mind, no venerable law hal¬ 
lowed by time, nor custom consecrated by experience, to 
control her actions. Unconsciously she exemplifies how 
beauty can degenerate into ugliness, and slows how the 
once fragrant flower, run to seed, is good for neither food 
nor ornament. * * * 
“Her Ideal of life for herself is absolute personal Indepen¬ 
dence coupled with supreme power over men. She repu¬ 
diates the doctrine of individual conformity for the sake of 
the general good ; holding the self-restraint involved as an 
act of slavishness of which no woman worth her salt 
would be guilty. She makes between the sexes no dis¬ 
tinctions, moral or aesthetic, nor even personal; but holds 
that what is lawful to the one is permissible to the other. 
Why should the world have parceled out qualities or 
habits into two different sections, leaving only a few com¬ 
mon to both alike ? Why, for instance, should men have 
the fee simple of courage, and women that of modesty f to 
men be given the right of the initiative—to women only 
that of selection ? to men the freer Indulgence of the senses 
—to women the chaster discipline of self-denial ? The 
Wild Woman of modern life asks why ; and she answers 
the question in her own way.” 
* * * 
Through 10 magazine pages of matter of like tenor this 
bitter pen runs on ; and perhaps nothing heretofore pub¬ 
lished has set forth the worst phases of the out-growth of 
the “ woman question” where It touches the varied sides 
of social life, with such bold and biting strokes. Whether 
it be fair to Include, by implication, all women who believe 
they have “ rights” In this category of the worst of their 
classes, the essayist has neither time nor spirit t. consider. 
* * * 
The society girl who smokes with the mej, the women 
who hunt and shoot, those who play tennis and golf and 
cricket, the women who want to make money, the women 
who acton the stage, the adventurous “globe-trotters,” 
are all Included “ these Wild Women of blare and bluster, 
who are neither man nor woman.” 
* * * 
But when, evidently with a desire for the same notoriety 
which is the acme of these very Wild Women who have 
been so sharply scored, and who, many of them, fully de¬ 
serve this castigation, the essayist places our women mis¬ 
sionaries in the same unsavory category, she insults in a 
manner beyond forgiveness the noblest women of our time. 
Their work an “impertinence,” themselves “about the 
most unlovely specimens the sex has yet produced: ” what 
worse could be said? And all this because they have the 
misfortune to differ from this Wild Woman of the Pen. 
Happily, she exempts women doctors from her sweeping 
objurgation, because, as she says, “they arecontent merely 
to heal the bodies.” Had Bhe been even moderately fa¬ 
miliar with the subject on which she held forth with such 
excess of sarcasm, she might possibly—but who can tell 
what a Wild Woman will do? she might have hesitated to 
make a statement so exactly the reverse of the real fact. 
* * * 
But that the essay has a distinct value in calling the 
attention of the public to the dangers of this revolution in 
the status of woman, and also of many shameless phases 
of present social life In the cities, cannot be gainsaid. It 
is a distinct surprise that the press generally, has paid it 
so little attention; for in its way, it almost rivals the much 
discussed article of E. S. Phelps of last year. 
A GLEAM OF LIGHT ON THE DARK SIDE. 
P OOR “ E. B. M I.” Surely I will not scold her, for 
don’t I “know how it is mystlf ?” Not that my 
farm home surroundings were the same as hers, for I had 
the “shutters” and the “ trees ’’—though not maple—and 
the “croquet,” but other things that I cannot give to the 
public, made my life as distasteful to me at 19, as is hers 
to her. We expect so much of life at 19 ! 
My birthdays are twice hers now, and from the stand¬ 
point of my superior years and experience I may be able 
to help her a bit. At least I can assure her of hearty sym- i 
pathy and interest. It is not quite fair to the farming fra- > 
ternity, however, to infer that the defects in her home are 
due to its being a farm home; for, except its isolation, the 
lack of money, of inherent refinement and of cultivation, 
would produce the same result in any occupation and lo¬ 
cality. 
I do not know what E. B. M.’s “ longings and aspira¬ 
tions ” are, but think It probable that they are the same 
as those of mauy other farm-bred young people—for a life 
in town, of which she has caught brief, and therefore 
bright, glimpses while in boarding-school. Right here I 
say that I do wish there were boarding-schools on purpose 
for farmers’ daughters. The style of girls’ schools yet in 
vogue gives a farm girl altogether wrong views of her 
home life, and of her father’s occupation. When she Is 
old enough and wise enough she will understand with 
Dean Swift that “ he who makes two blades of grass grow 
where but one grew before deserves more of mankind than 
the whole race of politicians put together,” and that “ the 
art of agriculture, on which 1,000,000,000 of men depend for 
sustenance, must be the most important of all, the parent 
and precursor of all other arts;” but at 19, seeing the 
sneer, or perhaps the patronizing smile, bestowed on “ only 
a farmer’s daughter ” by the town-bred girl in her class, 
E. B. M. cannot yet comprehend these truths. Now, I will 
not say that there are not many things unpleasant in farm 
life—many things that might, and in time will be, made 
pleisanter—(are there not in any life ?) but I know that we 
who are accustomed to this free and independent life, 
underrate Its advantages as well as overrate Its disad¬ 
vantages. 
The isolation of many farm houses Is a real hardship, 
especially for the feminine portion of the household. 
Somewhere I have read of a scheme for laying out farms 
“ long and narrow ” with the farm houses at one end, but 
a little way apart, thus forming a little village of farm 
houses near enough together for social purposes, and I 
think it would be a fine arrangement. But in the mean¬ 
time we who are far from congenial friends can make 
companions of our dumb friends—some of whom, on closer 
acquaintance, seem to lack but the one attribute of intelli¬ 
gent human friends, that of articulate speech—and most of 
all we can find companionship in books. A real book- 
lover never finds any place lonely, or the days—or even 
winter evenings—long. Books are much cheaper now than 
20 years ago, and more plentiful, so E. B. M. will not find 
them so hard to get as I did at her age; especially If farm¬ 
ers get a free daily delivery of their mall soon. Don’t 
like to read? Well—well—that is a real character defect. 
Better overcome it, if you mean to make much of yourself 
in these days. Even if there is but little time to read, a 
single sentence from a great thinker will do to turn over 
in one’s mind all the day when hands and eyes are other¬ 
wise employed. Don’t read trash. 
“ Dressing up” on a “ back farm” does, sometimes, seem 
hardly worth while, when no appreciative people see you, 
but a bit of advice given by Mrs. Wager-Fisher years ago 
in The Rural comes back to me, and I give it here: 
“ Girls, whatever you do, don’t forget to ‘ fix up’ a little 
every afternoon, for the sake of your own self-respect; a 
six-penny calico, with fresh collar and neatly arranged 
hair, is often quite enough, but don’t get in the habit of 
neglecting yonr daily personal appearance.” 
What I have said so far is under the supposition that 
E. B. M.’s first duty is to stay at home and help her mother 
who, mother-like, has probably denied herself much to 
give her daughter the schooling she already has; but if the 
mother can get along without her, and she “just hates 
farm life” as a young girl not long since asserted that she 
did, I say let her get out of it some way. Maybe she will be 
glad to return, but let her try it. If strong enough, and 
no better opening should appear, let her go and do house¬ 
work in somebody’s kitchen, save every penny earned, 
(study to improve the mind every spare minute) till enough 
money is secured to pay tuition in some school of tele¬ 
graphy, short-band, type writing, cookery, or in a dress 
making or millinery establishment, if ambition points 
higher, and she is willing to do without a great many de¬ 
sirable things to save her wages, she can in time fit her¬ 
self for higher positions. 
But there is one thing I hope she will not do, and that is 
to marry the first man who “ proposes” for “the sake of 
getting out of that old farm house.” For if she does, stie 
will probably wish, unavailingly, that she was back there, 
many a time—and so will he. JUDY jones. 
SOME WORK NOT SO PLEASANT. 
Rendering Lard.— Now that the much dreaded “ butch¬ 
ering time ” has come around again, I would like to tell 
the readers of The R. N.-Y. our way of rendering lard. We 
find that baking soda sprinkled on the fat, when put in 
the kettle, at the rate of two tablespoonfuls to a kettle 
holding three gallons, will make the lard as white as snow, 
and, we think, helps to keep it sweet; also, that a little 
vinegar added when seasoning the headcheese, is an im¬ 
provement. s. s. w. 
Securing the Rough Lard.— Before your part of the 
work begins, have the table raised on blocks high enough 
so you can stand up straight at your work. Then cover 
your table with several thicknesses of papers, line the tub 
or pail with some, and have parts of papers with bits of 
cord near by to use in case of accidents. If you do cut or 
tear one of the intestines, wrap a piece of paper around it 
and tie securely with two cords. When through, the papers 
can be easily removed, and your kitchen be soon in order. 
When trying out lard spread papers on the floor around 
the stove and save mopping grease spots. Be generous in 
the use of the old newspapers; it is a good use to put the 
dailies to. e. v. fox. 
Souse. —Have the feet of perfectly healthy hogs cut off 
at the ankle joint, not leaving too much meat on the 
toes, as they are denominated at the market. Soak in salt 
and water, and change the water until the blood is re¬ 
moved, scrape thoroughly and have the nails cut off before 
putting into the brine. Boll in clear water until the bones 
will fall out. It is well to add four hocks to 12 feet in or¬ 
der to have enough meat. Remove the bones while hot; 
keep the water well over the meat by replenishing from 
the tea kettle. (Never add cold water to boiling meat.) 
After all the bones are removed and the meat is per¬ 
fectly tender, leave in the kettle and allow the fat to 
rise overnight. Remove this and return the meat to 
the fire, and have ready a quart of good cider vinegar, 
black pepper (and, if you like, other spices, but I prefer 
nothing but pepper) let It heat in a porcelain dish, add the 
melted meat and gelatine, and allow it to i.ecome thor¬ 
oughly hot; add more salt if necessary. Have a stone jar 
ready and pour in ; enough fat will remain to use on top, 
which will keep it if put in a cold, dry place, but not in 
a cellar. Cut in slices to serve cold. Before putting it into 
the vinegar run a knife through it to break up the meat, 
and mix evenly in the gelatine. This makes an excellent 
supper dish for hungry school children, with a few baked 
potatoes; but always heat it for them in a porcelain dish. 
It is best to take a warm day for boiling the feet, on ac¬ 
count of the steam which settles like glue on the sur¬ 
roundings. 
Scrapple.— Prepare the feet as for souse—you can add 
also the ears if perfectly cleaned, the snout and the upper 
part of the head, divested of the eyes. When the bones 
are all removed—and be sure not one Is left—and after 
taking off the fat—left to rise overnight, and seasoning 
the meat with salt and pepper only, have it hot, then have 
ready sifted corn meal. Sift this into the kettle and let 
boil until of the consistency of corn-meal mush; cook well, 
stirring all the time, then put into flat porcelain dishes 
and let cool—it is served after frying, as you would corn 
meal mush, or it can be eaten cold in very thin slices if you 
prefer. ella r. beebe. 
PARTNERSHIP ON THE FARM. 
II. 
I S it not right that these joint earnings should be joint 
property? But, under the law, these joint earnings 
are the property solely of the husband to do with as he 
pleases. 
True, he can not sell his real estate without the consent 
of the wife, otherwise the purchaser might be held liable 
for the use of the one-third which increment is legally hers 
at his death; but he may sell all his personal property, or 
turn it Into reality if he choose. And, if the husband, 
through neglect, or the hurries and worries of life, fails to 
make a legal disposition of the property, and dies Intestate, 
the use of one-third, which, unless the farm is converted 
into money, means really but the use of one-sixth, for one- 
half of the one-third must go to make the one-third at 
all productive, is all that is left for the use of the wife, to 
gether with a certain amount of personal property (which 
amount in the country is often exceedingly problematical) 
for a possible old age of invalidism. 
The husband is left in possession of the home; the wife i 
when left a widow, has a right to remain on the homestead 
just 40 days and, as says a recent authority, at the end of 
this time she is required to pass over the domestic thresh¬ 
old where she reared her family and spent the better part 
of her life. Or, if she should tarry to drop a parting tear 
for sundered ties, she might be subject to the unwelcome 
command of an ungrateful and insulting son-in law; per¬ 
haps, too a daughter, loving more a strip of land than the 
mother who gave her birth and sustenance, joins In 
wielding the rod that shall drive her earliest and best 
friend from the old home. A son, too, hardened by selfish 
There is nothing that may not happen 
to a thin baby. 
There is nothing that may not happen 
tc a man who is losing his healthy weight. 
We say they are “poor.” They are 
poorer than we at first suspect. 
Do you want almost all that is known 
of the value of plumpness told in a way 
to commend to you careful living —and 
Scott’s Emulsion of cod-liver oil if you 
need it ? 
A book on it free 
Soott & Bowne, Chemists, 182 South 5tb Avenue, New York. 
Your druggist keeps Scott’s Emulsion of cod-liver oil—all druggist# 
everywhere do. tl. 
