Qukstjoxs atkecl in this column are intended to 
brinsr replies, and are not written to fill up space. If 
you cannot give us information, respond with some 
question that is puzzling you. Use a postal card to 
convey your sentiments or criticisms. The silence fol¬ 
lowing our request for suggestions regarding sewing, 
seemed to indicate that our readers wore only ready¬ 
made clothing; but the readiness with which our pat¬ 
tern offers are accepted, makes us think—well, what 
would you think of a person who takes all he can get, 
but has nothing to give ? Wouldn’t he be a poor fel¬ 
low to ccOperate with ? 
‘i 'i § 
Fjiokbkl says : “ Let the food be simply for nour¬ 
ishment—never more, never less.” Certainly nourish¬ 
ment is one of the essentials ; but as Nature pro¬ 
vided us with a sense of taste as well as stomachs, we 
conclude that palatability is as essential to food as is 
the sense of taste to the digestive system. Habit is a 
law which affects every function of the human body, 
and the force of habit is largely responsible for the dif¬ 
ferent ideas regarding the fitness of various foods. 
How many of us would be content with a dinner pre¬ 
pared according to Froebel’s “ never more ” ? We call 
the attention of our readers to the article on Whole¬ 
some Pie, written by a man, a vegetarian. Usually 
the dyspeptic finds a certain kind of consolation in 
considering hygienic cooking ; not so the woman who 
excels in flaky pie crust, etc. She aims to please the 
eye and the palate, as well as the stomach. Who shall 
say it is a mistake to do this, since these are, as it 
were, sentinels to be passed before the stomach is 
reached ? ^ 
€ « 2 
Why is a woman paid so little for doing housework 
in the country ? Is it not because the fanner’s wife 
works so hard for nothing but board and clothes, that 
wages for housework are so low ? The man who pays 
the bills, isn’t likely to feel that he can pay very much 
for getting the housework done, when he has been in 
the habit of getting it done for boarding ^nd clothing 
the worker. It is just as Fred Grundy says, the 
women are paid in praise ; the men will take nothing 
but cash. When women come to their senses, they 
will realize that flattery is worth nothing ; and that 
work has its own worth, irrespective of the person 
who performs it. Then they will demand, and they 
will get, wages equal to those paid men. 
THE WORK OR THE WAGES ? 
WHICH IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THE DISREPUTE OF HOUSE¬ 
WORK ? 
HE servant girl problem is a perennial question, 
and one that agitates the body politic every sea¬ 
son worse than a dose of green apples does the small 
boy. It bobs up in city and country alike, and seems 
to affect the residents of both in a similar manner. 
Put, as it is immaterial to us how the city people man¬ 
age their scraps and mend their troubles, we give our 
exclusive attention to the trials of the tiller of the soil. 
One day I saw a farmer standing in front of a store 
with just such an expression on his face as we would 
expect to see on that of a man who has come to forks 
in the road with nothing to guide him, and a hard 
storm coming on. “What’s the matter?” I asked. 
“ Lost something ?” 
He stared at me vacantly and half viciously a 
moment and then blurted out: “Say, do you know 
where I can get a girl ?” 
“To work ?” 
“ No ; to^tand around and look at my wife work !” 
he snapped. 
Just at that moment an ex-soil tiller joined us. “If 
you’re looking for a girl to work," he chipped in, 
“you’ll not find one. Last fall, when my wife was 
sick, I rode this country over hunting for a girl, and I 
found a hundred that wanted to teach school, a thou¬ 
sand that wanted tc marry, but not one that wanted 
to work.” 
“ Well,” said the man, “ I’ve been hunting for a girl 
two weeks and can’t find one. Don’t see how in 
thunder I’ll manage. My wife is not half well, there’s 
three children to look after and the cooking for me 
and my man, with harvest and haying close at hand. 
I’m in a fix, sure. I’d give a good girl two and-a-half 
a week right now !” 
“ That ought to be good enough wages to get one.” 
said the other. “ I know several families that have 
two to five girls in them, but you can’t get one of them 
to go out to work, to save your soul. And their folks 
are not well off either !” 
“ I know it! I know it I” cawed the girl hunter. 
‘ There’s dozens of big, strong girls around here living 
off their folks, who ought to be out earning their own 
living. But they won’t go. They’re too stuck up to 
work out! And if you do happen to get one a few 
days she wants more than she earns !” 
I left them sympathizing with each other, denounc¬ 
ing the girls and working themselves into a sweat. 
As I walked away I was joined by a young man who 
had overheard the conversation and who is the brother 
of three big sisters. 
“ I don’t blame the girls for not wanting to work for 
such fellows, do you ? They want them to get up at 
about 4:30 in the morning and work like slaves till 
about 10 at night, for two-and-a half a week I And 
then they kick and snort if the girls want to go home 
on Sunday afternoons to see their folks. It’s all right, 
you know, so long as it’s somebody else’s girl, but 
they wouldn’t let their own do it; not by a jug full! 
And my sisters shan’t do it so long as I can earn enough 
for us to live on ! ” 
There you are. That’s the spirit that pervades the 
air in this free country. What are you going to do 
about it ? 
No Raise in Wages or Position. 
“ What are you reading ? ” I once asked a servant 
girl whom I had noticed poring over a book every 
evening as she sat beside the kitchen stove. 
“I am studying arithmetic,” she replied. 
“Oh! Trying to make a mathematician of your¬ 
self ? ” 
“lam preparing myself to teach school next sum¬ 
mer.” 
“ So you are going to quit housework and be a lady, 
eh ?” 
“I am a lady now, sir ! But I could stay here and 
work my hands off, and head off too, for these people 
and never get a cent more than S2 a week, nor ever 
rise higher socially than Biddy O'F'allon, who receives 
the same wages that I do. Last summer when Mrs. 
• — (her mistress), was away two months, visiting her 
folks in the East, Mr.-(her master), told several 
people that I was one of the best and most economical 
housekeepers he ever saw in his life. And he meant 
it, too, for he’s not the man to flatter or talk silly. 
But he never offered to raise my wages one cent ! He 
offered the man that worked for him last season $5 
more a month to work for him again next season, 
simply because he was a first-class hand. I know that 
I am a better housekeeper than most girls, and I 
know that my services are worth $20 a month, but I 
will never get it if I follow this vocation till dooms- 
day. 1 propose to get into a vocation in which skill 
and faithful work not only bring higher wages, but 
also advance one socially.” 
Cash vs. Flattery. 
Did she hit the nail on the head when she intimated 
that merit in the kitchen deserved recognition and 
increased wages equally with merit in the field, or 
elsewhere ? 
If servant girls were paid according to their pro¬ 
ficiency, would a better class of girls enter the service? 
A farmer thinks nothing of raising the wages of a 
hired hand who proves to be first-class, in order to se¬ 
cure his services another season, but who ever heard 
of one raising his servant girl’s wages $5 or $10 per 
month because she proved to be a thoroughly profi¬ 
cient housekeeper ? 
The skilled servant girl receives a certain wage, and 
her mistress says she is a “jewel,” a “treasure,” etc., 
and she “could hardly live without her.” The bun¬ 
gling ninny gets about the same wage as the other, 
and her mistress says she is “simply horrid,” but 
she keeps her because sbe doesn’t know where she 
could get another. 
The skilled maid servant is supposed to be amply 
remunerated for her clear-sighted cleverness by the 
meed of praise bestowed upon her by her employers, 
but an expert man must be rewarded with substan¬ 
tial cash. 
It seems to be an estab¬ 
lished rule in every voca¬ 
tion, from bootblack to 
minister, that cleverness 
shall be rewarded by in- 
creased compensation. 
But when we enter the 
kitchen the rule is nil. 
The servant girl who be¬ 
gins service in the family 
of a farmer at a salary 
of $2 per week, will be 
found at the end of five 
years, if she stays that long, drawing the same salary. 
She may really be worth $10 a week to that family, 
but she won’t get it. Application for an increase of 
wages would be regarded as a declaration of war, and 
hostilities would begin at once, resulting in her retire¬ 
ment amid much vituperation. 
I am strongly inclined to believe that when pro¬ 
ficiency in housework is rewarded as proficiency in 
other vocations is, a better class of girls will prepare 
themselves for the service, and that skilled maid ser¬ 
vants will rate as high in the social scale as type¬ 
writers, saleswomen, etc., etc. fred gbundy. 
THE BEAUTIES OF FARM LIFE. 
OUNG people sometimes complain that the farm 
is so dull, that there is nothing to entertain or 
amuse them ! How can that be true, when there are 
concerts every morning, unsurpassed by human voices, 
and dozens of solos by these sweet little songsters 
every day ? How they fill the woods with their 
music ! Can anything be more charming than to listen 
to their varied notes ? May we not be entertained as 
well as instructed by studying the habits of these 
little friends as well as those of many others ? 
We may leave the farm to begin our education by 
going to some college or university, but we find that 
we must come back to the farm to finish it; for the 
highest learning consists in being well versed in the 
laws of Nature. It is much easier and more pleasant 
to study from nature than to pore over books, for 
every lesson is illustrated, and our surroundings are 
not four uninteresting walls, but the blue sky over¬ 
head for a roof, and the earth beneath, covered with 
the soft, green grass, for a carpet. 
In every season of the year there is something that 
makes one love the farm. In spring, the earth robed 
in green, the first wild flowers peeping up from among 
the grasses; later on, the fruit trees laden with pink 
and white blooms, scenting the air with a delicious 
perfume. In the first warm days, what a thrill of 
pleasure one feels as he shoulders a fishing rod and 
starts for a neighboring brook or pond, calculating as 
he walks along, about the size and number of fish he 
will catch if fortune favor him. 
W^hen the long hot days of summer come, there are 
the trees, inviting us to sit in their shade and rest 
ourselves. Now is the time our city cousins find the 
city dull, and come to visit us, glad to exchange its 
hot, dusty air for the cool, refreshing air of the coun¬ 
try. The farmer’s table is well supplied with fresh 
vegetables of all kinds, too, for at this time of year 
the garden is in full blast. The tall, green corn is so 
pretty, and the yellow wheat fields, waiting for the 
harvester, look like a golden sea moving in the gentle 
breeze. But autumn on the farm is the best season, 
for it is the fruit-gathering time of the summer’s 
work. The apples must be gathered and stored away 
for winter, and we may help the squirrels gather the 
hickory nuts and walnuts. 
Such pleasant thoughts come to us as we wander 
through the woods that are turning all yellow and red 
in the autumn sun and frosts ! The trees shedding 
their beautiful leaves, leaving the branches bare and 
brown, only to burst into new life again the next 
spring, make one think of a person past middle age 
who is losing the freshness and beauty of this life only 
to become more beautiful in the next. As the short 
days and long nights of old winter come, it, too, brings 
with it its pleasures. How bright and cheery the fire 
looks when coming in after making all the stock out¬ 
side comfortable. When the evening meal is over, 
and we gather around the fire to talk, and read, and 
refresh ourselves with nuts and apples, although it 
may be cold and blustery outside, yet our hearts feel 
a glow of warmth which the storm cannot affect. In 
after life, as we review our youth, we will place the 
memories of these long evenings spent by the farm 
fireside, among the most pleasant recollections. 
LAURA E. SHANNON. 
Ab^luteev pube 
