MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURxYL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
For the Rural New-Yorker.— From an Album. 
FRIENDSHIP'S OFFERING. 
Kino Friend : 
Yoo ask au offering rich and rare—a golden line of thought 
Traced on thy Album's spotless page, with richest mem’- 
ries fraught; 
And if I were a fairy spirit,—one of the spirit band, 
I’d bring thee dreams of joyousuess from out the unseen 
land. 
I would not bring fame’s icy wreath to twine around your 
brow, 
It might glisten in the glad sunbeam, might sparkle o’er 
thee now; 
But envy’s dark corroding breath would melt it down to 
tears, 
Would fill Life’s chalice with its dregs,—a bitter draught 
for years. 
I’ve wishes for thee pure, sincere — gems from the spirit’s 
mine; 
I'll bring them from my heart’s deep shrine, an offering 
for thine; 
They're jewels that remain undimmed by Time's corrod¬ 
ing hand, 
Bright flow'rets from the heart’s parterre,cords from true 
friendship’s band. 
I would that life might prove to thee one sunny dream of 
love— 
That Peace might ever shed o’er thee her star-beam from 
above; 
That Hope might sing her seraph song—might find a nest¬ 
ling bough 
Within thy heart—a biding place forever pure as now. 
And when the dark wing'd angel, Death, has plumed his 
arrowy dart— 
Life’s journey closed,—Hope’s garland dead, and still'd thy 
beating heart, 
May lie who watches o’er thee now, still lead thee in His 
Love, 
Aud give to thee an angels harp, attuned to notes above, 
Such my wish for thee. 
West Port, Ky., 1853. 
Written for the Rural New-Yorker. 
HOW OTHER PEOPLE SEE US- 
IIow wo look to other peoplo’s eyes is a 
question often proposed, but not often an¬ 
swered satisfactorily. Often, could wo “ seo 
ourselves as others see us,” we should think 
wo had a reversed tcloscopic view of our 
virtues, and that our vices wero shown us 
with a microscope,—the one would bo so 
much smaller and the othor so much larger, 
than they had over appeared to us before. 
Such, at least, would bo our viow with 
some peoplo’s oyes; others would show us 
a fairer picture than even our own. 
Could that blushing maiden see herself 
as her lover does, in his reveries by day and 
his droams by night—so boautiful—the per¬ 
fection of all loveliness—she would walk the 
earth more trippingly than now, nor won¬ 
der at his homage. She would be prouder 
and inorequeon-liko then over, did she know 
how much of sunlight and happiness fell 
from a single glanco upon lior enthralled 
worshipper, whoso heart she sways so en¬ 
tirely and so thrillingly. 
Could that ambitious youth look upon 
himself with the oyes of his fond mothei’, his 
heart would boat oven quicker than now.— 
Ho would see one who is winning a namo to 
reilect honor on her that boro him—ono 
who shall bo worthy of the confidence of 
the good and wise among his compeers— 
and one in whoso success the hearts, and 
hopes of his parents centre. Would that 
many a youth know tho importance which 
ho wears in the eyes of those, nearest to him 
and would caro rather for their glanco than 
for that of all tho world bosido ! 
But such views as thoso are not tho most 
useful which may bo taken. Not alono with 
the oyes of affection and hopo, should wo 
look upon ourselves. Nor would we view 
our actions and motives as with tho careless 
and unfeeling oyes of tho world—who havo 
no charity for our errors, and no mercy for 
our supposed intentions. They torture our 
virtues into vices—our littlo faults appear 
malignant crimes, our mirth is tho veriest 
folly, and our charity and kind-heartedness 
become but ostentation, and solfishness. 
It wero bettor to seo ourselves as we are, 
—“ as others seo us” when not blinded bv 
malice or dazzled by love, but looking with 
impartial and charitable eyes on our real 
character. IIow valuable is tho power of 
self-examination and self-judging, which 
enables us to decide how wo would think 
and speak of our every action, were it per¬ 
formed by another. Alas, how unfrequent- 
ly do wo tako this precise viow of tho sub¬ 
ject. We think what others will say of us, 
but not of what wo would say of our own 
thoughts and actions when proceeding from 
any but ourselves.— b. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
RUNNING THE GAUNTLET. 
“ Running tho Gauntlet,”—who has not 
learned its meaning from aboriginal history? 
Think of the horror that has filled tho 
mind of tho captive, as ho has behold two 
long lines of Indians separated from each oth¬ 
or by only a sufficient distance to enable him 
to fly between them to tho council house, 
amid tho stabs of knives and tho blows of 
clubs and tomahawks. And then, too, how 
the very hair3 of his hoad must rise on end, 
and his teeth chatter, when tho time comes 
round for him to start on his porilous race ! 
IIow imminent his danger — what hair 
breadth escapes, as he bounds forward amid 
unoarthly yells, tho savage host pursuing ! 
The “ Council House,” only, promises him 
safety. 
There is another mothod by which men 
are mado to run tho gauntlet, adopted by an 
enlightened poople,—less dangerous to lifo, 
but not without its perils. Lot circumstan¬ 
ces or position place a man before tho pub¬ 
lic for office, and he is started off to run the 
political gauntlet. Tho chances of success 
are against him. He may come off without 
any broken bones or disabled limbs, he may 
escape tho stabs of tho knife, but ho cannot 
avoid tho thrusts of tho pen. Tho blows of 
the club and tho tomahawk ho may not feel, 
but tho political ax is hurled at his devoted 
head. Ho is pursued by his unrelenting 
foes to his own door aud into his own dwel¬ 
ling. Tho privacy of his household is in¬ 
vaded ; he is sought out in almost every re¬ 
lation which ho sustains, and, if found, is 
dragged forth to be labeled with lies and 
covered with slander. No worth, however 
oxalted, noinnoconce however pure, can well 
escape, under such circumstances, the most 
malignant detraction. O, who does not sigh 
for tho sweots of political lifo ! 
Rochester, N. Y., Nov., 1853. S. G. WILCOX. 
POPULATION OF THE VICINITY OF ROME. 
The inhabitants of tho mountainous re¬ 
gion near Romo are, generally speaking, a 
fino looking race. The men are well form¬ 
ed, and, in their movement and bearing, free 
and graceful. Thoy fall naturally into 
striking and statuesque attitudes, and, when 
speaking, break into kindling and express¬ 
ive gosturos. Tho women did not seem to 
mo so handsome as tho men, though among 
them aro often fino heads and striking coun¬ 
tenances. From their habit of carrying 
burdens upon the head, thoy aro very erect, 
and their gait and movement aro full of 
emphasis and expression. In young men 
and women both, there is a great deal of a 
kind of beauty to which our northern eyes 
aro not accustomed—that derived from col¬ 
or alone. With them, tho tone of color is 
Venetian; with us, Umbrian. Tho com¬ 
plexion is of a rich healthy yellow, with a 
burnish and glow upon it liko that of a ripe 
nectarino; tho oyes are. of sparkling brown 
or black ; the teeth, white and regular; and 
the massive raven hair shines with a sort of 
motalic light, liko a bit of freshly broken 
anthracite coal. Thoso fino colors, so com¬ 
mon in Italy, aro in part tho result of that 
open-air life which all tho people lead. In 
Southern Italy, at least, no man or woman, 
especially in tho rural regions, stays under 
a roof any longer than is inevitable. 
Every person who has lived in Rome or 
its neighborhood, must havo noticed the an¬ 
tipathy felt by the inhabitants to a fire. An 
Italian child, from tho moment he is born, 
begins to know the light and air of heavon. 
Ho tumbles about the grass liko a dropped 
orango. Even when within doors, tho sun 
shines and tho wind blows in through huge, 
yawning windows—if windows thoy can bo 
called which aro without glass or shutters 
—and through great openings whore doors 
ought to be but are not. Ho never breathes 
an atmosphere poisoned by stoves or furna¬ 
ces, but grows up in tho sunshine and tho 
breeze. Thus it is rare to seo a sickly com¬ 
plexion, and almost every countenance has 
a look of ripeness and soundness. 
The peasantry near Romo, both male and 
female, are fond of showy costumes, and 
thoy havo a native taste for tho disposition 
of colors, and the appropriate use of orna¬ 
ments of gold and silvor. On all festival 
and holiday occasions, whon they appear in 
their attire, the general etFect produced is 
very fino, and forms a strong attraction to 
artists, who learn horo tho difference be¬ 
tween costumo and dress.— Hillard's Six 
Months in Italy. 
~ HINTS TO STRANGERS IN NEW YORK, 
Beware of hackmen and cabmen. If 
you are going to a hotel tako tho regular 
coach which bolongs to tho hotel to which 
you wish to go. 
Beware of all steamboat, railroad or hotel 
runners. Always purchase your tickets at 
tho office of the company, and thereby en¬ 
sure tho genuine. Those hotels which send 
out runners, aro tho resort of pick-pockots, 
gamblers, who also represent the runners. 
Beware of mock auctions. You will find 
them in all parts of tho city. Thoy can im¬ 
pose upon you if you give them a chance ; 
therefore shun them, and do not enter, for 
wiser men than you have beon “ fleeced.” 
Beware of thoso gentlemen who aro ever 
ready to show tho “ strangers” their boau- 
tiful city. Give them tho cold shouldor if 
you would escape being robbod. 
Beware of all pocket books that may be 
picked up and handed to you, as tho finder 
is obliged to loavo tho city, and if you will 
give him ton dollars ho will leave it with 
you, and you can find the owner and claim 
tho reward, or keep it. If you open it you 
will find that it contains nothing but coun¬ 
terfeits and imitations. Always decline 
them, and you will not get “ sold.” 
Beware of all vendors of “ silvor polish,” 
watches, “ knife-sharpeners” and an article 
for taking tho impression of leaves, &c.; as 
thoy aro all humbugs, and you will find 
thorn so if you purchase. 
Bowaro of pick-pockots. By using a re¬ 
markable amount of procaution you can es- 
capo thoir “light fingers.” 
Bowaro of looking or acting “green” in 
tho city, and the sharpers will not pounco 
upon you. Carry your head up, and walk 
along as though you belonged there. Do 
not stare at every now sight and gaze into 
the window.— Ex. 
A MODERN CINCINNATUS. 
In a long and pleasant conversation re¬ 
cently with a distinguished friend, whoso 
mind is rich Avith the recollections of the 
past, avo gathered many incidents, not the 
least interesting of which was tho following : 
At the session of tho South Carolina Leg¬ 
islature in 1814, the members Avero per¬ 
plexed for a suitable man to elect Governor. 
The difficulty did not arise from any scarcity 
of candidates, for thon, as hoav, men wero 
ambitious, but from a want of the right sort 
of a man. The matter became worso as tho 
timo wore on, and the election of some ob- 
jectional candidate seemed inevitable. Ono 
day, howover, as several of them wore con¬ 
versing upon tho matter, Judgo O’Neal, then 
a young man and present by invitation, said: 
“ Gentlemen, Avhy not elect General David 
R. Williams ?” 
“David R. Williams, he’s our man — ho’s 
tho man,” thoy all exclaimed, as thoy began 
to scatter to tell tho news. 
Tho day of olection came on, and Genoral 
Williams was elected by a largo voto. A 
messenger was at once dispatched with a 
carefully prepared letter to inform tho Gen¬ 
eral of his election—request his acceptance, 
and hoped he Avould name the day on Avhich 
he would tako tho oath of office. After a 
long and hard ride, tho messenger stopped 
at tho General’s residence, in Marlborough 
District, wo believe, and inquired if he was 
in. He Avas told that Mr. Williams avus o\ r er 
at his plantation. Tho gentleman said he 
Avould ride over, as ho had a note to deliver 
to him as soon as. possible. When about 
half way ho met a fine looking man, dressed 
in plain homespun, and driving a team of 
mules. 
“Am I on the road to tho plantation of 
General Williams ?” asked tho messenger. 
“ Yes, sir; it is about a mile further on,” 
was the reply. 
“ Is tho General at home ?” 
“ No, sir.” 
“ Whore is he ?” 
“ I am the man.” 
“ Don’t deceive mo. I havm an important 
letter for Gen. Williams. If that is your 
name,” said the doubting messenger, “here 
it is,” handing it to the General. 
Mr. Williams opened the letter and found 
to his utter astonishmont that, without his 
knowledge or consent, he had been elected 
Governor of South Carolina. IIo took tho 
mossenger homo and entertained him for 
tho night, preparing a noto in the mean¬ 
time, accepting tho appointment, and nam¬ 
ing a time on which ho would be in Colum¬ 
bia. Tho messenger returned. 
On the appointed day, a few minutes be¬ 
fore 12 o’clock, a man dressed in homespun, 
and on horseback, rode into tOAvn ; hitching 
his animal to a tree, he made his Avay to tho 
Capitol, where ho found a brilliant con- 
courso of people. But feAv know him per¬ 
sonally ; but there Avas something com¬ 
manding about him. Ho took his seat in a 
vacant chair; and whon the (dock in front 
ot tho speaker had struck the hour of twelvo, 
tho General arose and delivered the most 
masterly speech that had ever been deliver¬ 
ed there on any occasion. The farmer- 
statesman entirely electrified tho assembly. 
He made an excellent GoA'ernor. 
The thing convoys a beautiful idea. Hero 
was a farmer olected; ho accepted, and 
from tho plow went to tho Governor’s office 
to preside, in a stormy crisis, ovor the destiny 
of a sovoroign State. Long live his memory. 
ANECDOTE OF WASHINGTON. 
One Reuben Rouzey, of Virginia, owed 
tho General ono thousand pounds. Whilo 
President of the United States, ono of his 
agents brought an action for tho money; 
judgment AA-asobtainod, and execution issued 
against tho body of tho defendant, Avho was 
takon to jail, ile had considerable landed 
estate, but this kind of proporty cannot bo 
sold in Virginia, unless at the discretion of 
tho owner. Ho had a largo family, and for 
tho sake of his children preferred laying in 
jail to selling his land. A friend hinted to 
him, that probably Gon. Washington did not 
know anything of tho proceeding, and that 
it might be Avell to send him a potition, Avith 
a statement of tho circumstances. lie did 
so—and tho very next post from Philadel¬ 
phia, after the arrival of his petition in that 
city, brought him an order for his immedi¬ 
ate rolease, togother Avith a full discharge, 
and a sovoro reprimand to the agent for 
having acted in such a manner. Poor Rou¬ 
zey Avas consequently restored to his family 
Avho novel’ laid down their heads at night 
Avithout first presenting prayers to heaven 
for “their belovod Washington.” Providence 
smiled upon tho labors of the grateful fam¬ 
ily, and in a few years Rouzey enjoyed tho 
exquisite pleasure of being able to lay tho 
money Avith interest, at tho feet of tho truly 
great man. Washington reminded him that 
tho debt Avas discharged. Rouzey replied 
tho dobt of his family to the father of thoir 
country, and tho preserver of thoir family 
could never bo discharged; and tho general, 
to“avoid the pleasing importunity of tho 
grateful Virginian, who could not bo denied, 
accepted tho money—only, howover, to di¬ 
vide it among Rouzey’s children, which ho 
immediately did.— Old Colony Memorial. 
Anecdote. — Profossor Sillitnan, in his 
“Visit to Europe,” just published, relates 
tho following anecdote: 
“In the year 1558, Henry Colo, dean of 
St. Paul’s, stoppod at Chester on his way to 
Ireland, commissioned by Queen Mary to 
prosecute tno Protestants, and oxultingly 
showed his commission, Avhich ho replaced 
in his bag; but as soon as ho loft the room 
tho good lady of the houso took out the 
commission and replaced it Avith a pack of 
cards, with the knave of clubs uppermost.— 
Of course tho doan mado a ridiculous figure 
Avhen ho opened his supposed commission 
at Dublin, in presence of the dignitaries; 
and before a new ono could bo obtained, tho 
persecuting Mary breathed hor last. 
Jjur % 
From Arthur’s Home Gazette. 
THE REPROOF. 
Whisper it softly, 
When nobody’s near, 
' Let not those accents 
Fall harsh on the ear. 
She is a blossom, 
Too tender aud frail 
For the keen blast— 
The pitiless gale. 
Whisper it gently, 
’Twill cost the no pain; 
Gentle words rarely 
Are spoken in vain; 
Threats and reproaches 
The stubborn may move— 
Noble the conquest 
Aided by love. 
Whisper it kindly, 
’Twill pay thee to know. 
Penitent tear-drops 
Down her cheeks flow. 
Has she from virtue 
Wandered astray ? 
Guide her feet gently, 
Rough is the way. 
She has no parent, 
None of her kin; 
Lead her from error. 
Keep her from sin. 
Does she lean on thee ( 
Cherish the trust;— 
God to the merciful 
Ever is just. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
IS WOMAN’S WORK EVER DONE? 
BY MRS. M. AV. H. 
There is a trite saying among our 
"household Avords:”—“Woman’s work is 
nover donethis would seem to sottlo the 
question, but whilo wo admit its truth, I 
think tho subject at this time, on various ac¬ 
counts, demands a few moments reflection. 
Womans work! this is truly a compre¬ 
hensive phrase, and admits of a more ex- 
tensivo application than it generally receives 
in its most frequent use. Woman’s work 
does not consist merely in providing with 
her own hands, or by proxy, for tho physi¬ 
cal wants of thoso dependent on hor caro ; 
multilarious as these duties aro, thoy can 
sometimes bo so arranged as to afford a lit¬ 
tle leisure, yet this leisure even, brings its 
work. Das sho a single hour at command, 
some sick friend is to ho visited, somo work 
of kindness or charity, to bo performed.— 
Ono might be led to suppose, by the nature 
of the fields some of our sex aro seeking to 
occupy, that they had found means to per¬ 
form all tho work that legitimately belongs 
to them, and had volunteered in services 
bettor adapted to the habits and physical 
condition of tho other sox. Whilo there aro 
children to roar and educate, infirm hu¬ 
manity to nurse, and sorroAving hearts to 
soothe, husbands, brothers, sons and daugh¬ 
ters to influence, lead and direct by the 
operations ot a kind and loving spirit, let 
these works be the unostentatious preach¬ 
ers to guide in the paths of religion and 
virtue, and the social circle the political 
platform from whence sho shall seek to 
participate in the government of tho Nation. 
To give tho subject tho most common and 
piactical application, lot us look at tho Avifo 
of tho farmer, or of tho mechanic in city or 
country, who has no resources for tho main¬ 
tenance ot his family but the labor of his 
hands; is that Avoman’s work ever done ?_ 
I moan tho veritable physical labor. Un¬ 
able to pay for help, sho is wearing away 
hor best days without time to improAre a mind 
already “ cumbered about many things,” or 
means to supply tho mental wants of thoso 
little inquisitive beings who think “ mother 
knows eA T ory thing,” and question accord¬ 
ingly. IIoav often I have hoard such wo¬ 
men say, “I havo no time to teach my chil¬ 
dren to work or read ”—Avhich is no doubt 
true. This is especially true, in families 
where tho wife finds it necessary to do all. 
or tho greater part of her sewing ; in such 
cases littlo timo can be spared for recrea¬ 
tion or social enjoyment, which are as ne¬ 
cessary to tho proper development of the 
mental, as food and clothing aro to the 
physical organization. 
1 boliovo tho introduction of sewing ma¬ 
chines is destined materially to affect female 
labor, and through that, femalo character. 
Many who now depend on tho noodlo by 
which to obtain a living, aro becoming alarm¬ 
ed at tho idea of having sowing so cheap¬ 
ened, that it Avill bo impossible for them to 
compete with so formidable a rival. Tho 
foar seems to obtain among them, that they 
Avill be obliged to betake themselvos to somo 
more menial omploymont; what these more 
menial employments are I do not clearly 
understand, as I hold all employment hon¬ 
orable that is honorably performed — it is 
true, avo all have a choice in what way to 
labor. I do not consider a girl who cooks 
tho food for a family, any more a menial on 
that account than the one Avho does the sew¬ 
ing. I think these porsons tako an erroneous 
view of tho case, for all experience teaches, 
that eA'ory invention that has over been in¬ 
troduced to lessen the price of labor in any 
particular department, has had the effect to 
increase tho demand, and open up channels 
which more than compensated any loss that 
accrued to any particular class from its use. 
Sewing machines can never bo endowed 
with intelligence: consequently can novor 
bo mado to cut and fit a garment. If they 
cheapen tho making of clothing so that a 
person can have two garmonts instoad of 
one, then Avill the two be to fit and finish 
instead of one. At the prosont timo, the 
cost of making many garments of tho plain¬ 
est kind, is more than the material of which 
thoy are mado. As sewing becomes con¬ 
signed to the machine, a demand for heads 
and hands to manage it will be increased, 
so that sowing Avomen and girls will at tho 
worst only change tho form of labor. Tho 
tendoncy too, of all tho “strikes” that per¬ 
vade every class of labor, is to make new 
openings for more remunerative, and quite 
as healthy femalo labor as that of sewing. 
Y\ ben tho timo arrives that a woman can 
bo hired into tho houso with a sowing ma- 
chino, and do tho family seAving in a week, 
that tho toiling mother has heretofore 
scarcely accomplished in a wholo season, 
thoso families with small moans will be bet¬ 
ter clothed, and tho females havo more timo 
to dovoto to such pursuits as contribute to 
physical and mental vigor. IIow gladly 
will those mothers who ply the shining stool 
by tho midnight lamp that their families may 
bo respectably clothed, avail themselves of 
any means whereby they can save timo to 
devote to tho minds and morals of their 
children. 
I admit that quito too much timo is fre¬ 
quently spent in an unnecessary use of tho 
needle. I admit too, that there are moth¬ 
ers oven, who think the embroidering of a 
littlo dress, is of more importance than sup- 
plying tho natural wants of the dear object 
who is to wear it; not that she would wilfully 
neglect her duty, but she thinks it will bo 
“ so pretty and becoming,” it must bo done, 
even if the child suffers from tho want of 
her personal attention while she is doing it. 
Women, as Avell as men, of the prosont 
day, have many sins of omission and com¬ 
mission to ansAver for, and tho proper way, 
in my view, to correct many of the evils un¬ 
der which we labor, is to give young men 
and Avomon right ideas. In behalf of those 
wives and mothers who Avork incessantly 
from necessity, I would urge men to study 
tho means of lightening their toil, by pro¬ 
viding' as far as practicable, such improve¬ 
ments and aids as may from timo to timo bo 
invented, and found of decided utility; and 
above all things, by kind and sympathizing 
words and acts, let them knoAv that you ap¬ 
preciate their efforts, and Avould relievo 
them if in your power; these aids are won¬ 
derful in their effects, and available to the 
poorest individual. 
Among tho various inventions for house¬ 
hold labor-saving, particularly in cities, I 
havo heard of none which strikes mo as be¬ 
ing of more importance than cooking by 
gas, providing it can be brought into prac¬ 
tical use, of which there can be littlo doubt, 
according to tho statement of the editor of 
tho JYeio York Mirror, by Avhich we learn 
that it has been tested, and found so far, to 
Avork admirably.* Cities are becoming so 
generally supplied with gas, and fuel is al¬ 
ready so expensivo, there is no doubt peoplo 
will avail themselves of the former to do 
their cooking and warm their houses if 
practicable, as well as to light thorn. If 
this can noAv be done in tho city, how long 
Avill it tako the chemists to devise somo 
cheap and effective mode of generating gas 
for tho farm-house, or any other country 
residence ? 
* What the Mirror says upon the subject of cooking by 
Sas will be found under the head of Mechanical Arts, in 
the present number of the Rural.—Eds. 
FUTURE HOUSEKEEPERS. 
We sometimes catch ourselves Avonderin" 
Iioav many ot the young ladies Avhom we 
meet Avith are to perform tho part of house¬ 
keepers, Avhen tho young men Avho now eye 
them so admiringly have persuaded them'to 
become their wives. 
Wo listen to thoso young ladies of Avhom 
wo speak, and hear them not only acknowl¬ 
edging but boasting of their ignorance of 
all housework duties, as if nothing Avould so 
lower them in tho esteem of their friends 
as the confession of an ability to bake bread 
and pies, or cook a piece ot meat, or a dis¬ 
position to engage in any useful employ¬ 
ment. Speaking from our own youthful 
recollection, we are free to say that taper 
fingers and lily Avhite hands are very pretty 
to look at Avith a young man’s eyes, and 
somotimes wo have known tho artless inno¬ 
cence of practical knowledge displayed by 
a young Miss to appear rather interesting 
than otherwise. But we have lived long 
enough to learn that life is full of rugged 
experiences, and that tho most lovingj'ro¬ 
mantic and delicato people must live on 
cooked or otherwise prepared food, and in 
homes kept clean and tidy by industrious 
hands. And for all the practical purposes 
of married lifo, it is generally found that 
for tho husband to sit and gazo at a wife’s 
taper fingers and lily hands, or for a wife to 
sit and be looked at and admired does not 
make tho pot boil or put the smallest piece 
of food therein. 
