I I I 
Now that the vegetable garden and the 
orchard are stripped of their fruits, let 
us see that the pleasant variety which 
enlivened the summer bill of fare, is not 
too much curtailed. Many pleasant 
changes in the dishes may be accom¬ 
plished without the aid of any great va¬ 
riety of raw material. First of all, see 
that food is nourishing and composed of 
the right elements. Then give rein to 
fancy, and achieve a wholesome and at¬ 
tractive variety for the table. 
* 
Onk of our readers writes us express¬ 
ing her admiration for our woman’s de¬ 
partment. She say.s, “It is so free from 
the usual ‘ Sister-Smith-l-want-to-shake- 
hands-with-you-on-the- dish - cloth - ques¬ 
tion,’ and, ‘ llope-this-won’t-go-into-the- 
waste-basket ’ elements.” Certainly that 
expresses the sum and substance of the 
home department in many of the news¬ 
papers. Does such matter satisfy the 
readers ? Do we not get enough gossip 
and chat through intercourse with our 
neighbors ? Isn’t the newspaper a visitor 
from the outside world to which we look 
for something new, something we could 
not get elsewhere ? It may be, that in 
endeavoring to establish a bond of sym¬ 
pathy between him.self and the readers, 
the editor fills his columns with the 
mere trivialties of correspondence. But 
is it not a mistake ? Such ties do not 
bind human hearts together. Will women 
feel that they are sisters because they 
hold the same views about dishcloths ? 
Hardly. We are living, thinking beings, 
scattered over this wide world, and see 
life from different standpoints. Each is 
able to give the others some help, either 
a practical hint or a word of encourage¬ 
ment. Let us do that, and do it x^romptly 
and to the best of our ability. Life is 
rapid, life is short ; there isn’t time to 
do and get all the good things of life. 
We no longer have time for the old- 
fashioned preambles when writing a let¬ 
ter, “ I take my pen in hand,” etc. If 
we’re talking with a pen, let’s talk. 
* 
A CERTAIN paper has inaugurated a 
change consisting of a series of articles 
on domestic subjects w^ritten by men. 
The domestic problem is certainly being 
sufficiently agitated; it should settle 
down by and by. One of these articles, 
signed with a masculine name, and 
treated from a man’s standpoint, is on the 
arrangement of plackets in w'omen’s 
skirts. Another appropriate subject is 
the bachelor’s mending, and we are told 
of the varied emotions that disturb the 
masculine mind w'hen he views the 
absence of a button, the hopes and fears 
that follow when he ventures to compli¬ 
cate the situation by taking to himself 
a needle and thread. Not satisfied with 
this one pathetic picture of bachelorhood, 
he proceeds to relate the harrowing tale 
of the treatment of undarned stockings, 
etc. It is unmanly, to say the least, this 
attack on w'oman’s tenderheartedness. 
No doubt many a woman bent on re¬ 
forms of greatest importance, wdll be 
turned aside by this pathetic plea of 
masculine helplessness, and give up her 
mission to fill the place of the darning 
machine and dishw'asher. 
THE DARNING MACHINE. 
F course the careful and economical 
woman darns stockings ; and gets 
tired of it, too. And the woman who 
doesn't darn, except on the rare occasions 
when she feels the desire to express her¬ 
self in more than ordinary language, but, 
womanlike, only “ darns it,” gets tired 
of wearing stockings with holes in them. 
So the darning machine has come, a wo¬ 
man’s idea, a man’s invention, to make 
quick work of a tedious task. 
Fig. 202 shows the machine with the 
work in progress. The hole to be darned 
is made square or oblong and cut out 
until there is a substantial edge to darn 
from. The stocking, or garment, is then 
stretched smoothly over the block of 
wood, with the hole near one end. The 
machine is then fitted on over the mate¬ 
rial, and the hooks which hold the warp 
adjusted so that the hole lies between 
the two rows of hooks. The warp is 
then laid, the darning needle threaded, 
and the weaving begins. By pressing 
the lever the warp is opened and the 
needle may be passed through, catching 
the edge of the material. Draw the yarn 
through, touch the lever, the warp is re¬ 
versed, and, presto, we are back again. 
Like all machines, it needs intelligence 
to guide it, and a careful worker will do 
better work than a careless one. The 
main feature of the machine is the quick¬ 
ness with which the darn may be filled, 
without the tedious going over and 
under the threads as in ordinary darning. 
When the warp is filled, and the machine 
removed, the ends of the d. w. must be 
sewed by hand. The machine will cover 
a hole about 23^ by 4 inches, and may be 
used on linen or other material, fine or 
coarse thread being used according to 
the material. 
The machine has not been out a year, 
and it remains to be seen whether the 
housekeeper will accept it as a nece.s.sary 
companion to the mending basket. The 
price is S1..50. 
TWO PICTURES OF HOME. 
HAT are the real enjoyments 
of life ? Ha! Ha! wife, see 
here a moment, what The R. N.-Y. asks 
this week.” 
The little woman came in from the 
kitchen, drying her hands by the way, 
and sat down, towel in hand. “ I want 
to tell you some things I saw and heard 
to-day that, in a way, treat on this sub¬ 
ject. You know I was in those cottages 
on A street, fixing the registers and the 
heating pipes, generally, for the winter. 
Well, I was upstairs in one, and the 
mistress was below with a caller. The 
two chatted for an hour or more; finally 
they stood in the hall, arranging to go 
on a shopping tour after dinner. ‘ And 
I must hurry now,’ concluded the caller, 
‘ for it’s most dinner time,’ and darted 
past me as I was coming out on the way 
to my dinner. 
“I got back to my work just as the 
husband was going out to his. ‘ Oh ! 
Elsie,’ he said, ‘ I wish you’d just fix the 
lining in the sleeves of my heavy over¬ 
coat. I need it now, nights—wore it 
last night in fact—and the linings pull 
and tear. You know ’twas that way 
when I put it off in the spring. Just 
see to it, won’t you? ’ and he was oft'. 
“ ‘Fix his overcoat, all this lovely after¬ 
noon ! Stay mewed up in the house ! Oh, 
dear!’ In came her friend. ‘Ready, 
Elsie ? We will just catch*a car.’ ‘I don’t 
know. See these sleeves that Ned wants 
fixed to-day.’ ‘ A nice, pretty thing ; you 
stay in all this afternoon for that ! I’d 
like to see myself do it. Come, let’s 
hurry ! I’m hoping to rest in the car. 
for I just flew ever since I left this house. 
George came right in. Things weren’t 
nice. In fact, the dinner was horrid. 
But I couldn’t help it ; I can’t be always 
tied to cooking. He should keep me a 
girl, anyway, even if there are only us 
two.’ And the door closed behind them, 
after baby had been handed over to a 
good-natured-looking girl. Baby cried 
at intervals all the afternoon, till the 
girl bundled it up and the two went out. 
I finished and left soon after. 
‘ ‘On my way home to-night, I stopped in 
for some tools I had forgotten. Such a 
house ! The baby was cryiug in its car¬ 
riage. The mother was rushing around 
hunting wood to coax the kitchen fire. 
Smoke everywhere, and a nice steak was 
stewing slowly on the stove, toughening 
every moment. Bridget, hurrying in 
with supper supplies, said as she ru.shed 
past me, ‘ Sure, it’s the same way all the 
time here.’ The mistress’s hat and cape 
had been flung on the dining table, and 
her parcels filled the rocker. The hus¬ 
band went in as I came out. It all made 
me sick, I tell you ; such a kind of home 
as that ! 
“ When I stepped upon the porch here, 
I took a look in the window at you, in 
your low rocker, and baby so contented 
on your lap. The glow from the logs on 
the hearth sent a half light all over the 
room. Out in the kitchen, the fire shin¬ 
ing fi-om the range, and the shaded lamp 
over the supper table, made it all com¬ 
fort there. It rested me. I had been 
feeling pretty tired as I walked along, 
but. somehow, standing there, I seemed 
to forget it all.” emiey h. steedman. 
A BUTTON BAG. 
HERE once came to me a trifling 
gift that has never yet lost its 
welcome. It was a button bag, and so 
made as to be perfection in its way. A 
circular piece of cretonne was cut about 
18 inches in diameter; this was lined 
with turkey red cotton, the edges seamed 
together, and brass rings were put on at 
close intervals around the edge. A cord 
was run in the rings, and a bag produced 
that at any moment may be laid out flat 
and disclose every button therein. The 
buttons don’t have to be emptied out 
and picked out every time a search is 
made ; the bag is laid upon the table, its 
contents spread and searched to the 
heart’s desire, and the cord, when drawn 
up, gathers them all safe again. 
A pretty idea for this bag would be to 
make it of linen in some one of the pretty 
art shades, dull blue lending itself very 
effectively for all sorts of work. There 
may be little or much decoration put 
upon the bag, sprays of Dresden embroid¬ 
ery may be put over the entire surface, 
in Asiatic filoselle, or the words, “ This 
is the button I long have sought, and 
sighed because I found it not,” would be 
a change from “ Button, button, who’s 
got the button ?” But whatever senti¬ 
ment you choose, an ea.sy way to put it 
upon the linen is to write or print it in 
quaint lettering, or simply in your own 
running handwriting. With a needle 
threaded with Asiatic filoselle, run along 
the letters in a fine stitch, then go over 
them in a fine over-and-over stitch. This 
is so simple and so easy that any one can 
do it. The bag may be lined to suit the 
maker, and the edges be bound or feather 
stitched with Asiatic twisted embroidery 
silk, which will wash; the linen, too, 
will launder well, rose seelye-mileer. 
HYGIENIC COOKING. 
CRANK may write an article on 
any subject of reform which is his 
hobby, and, though it may be pregnant 
with universally accepted truths, ex¬ 
pressed as clearly as language is able to 
do it, the average reader will reject the 
whole, and call it “moonshine,” “vis¬ 
ionary” or “cranky,” because a small 
fraction of it is not in harmony with his 
ideas. The Chief Cook, I reason, is an 
eater of flesh, and being told by some 
one, or by intuition—I know not whom 
or which—that “ Wholesome Pie ” was 
written by a farmer, a man at that, 
who eats no animal products, she jumps 
at the conclusion that the writer is a 
dyspeptic whose hobby is vegetarianism, 
in which she has no sympathy, and 
imagines that food prepared as stated 
must be anything but “tasty.” She 
says: “We conclude that palatability 
is as essential to food as the sense of 
taste to the digestive system.” I am 
sure that the pie with bread-crumb 
crust and the oatmeal preparations are, 
like the woman’s flaky pie crust, suited 
“to please the eye and the palate, as 
well as the stomach.” I have more than 
once eaten a full meal of the oatmeal 
pudding, and regretted that my stom¬ 
ach’s capacity was so small. One does 
not have to take it as though it were an 
allopathic dose of quinine, and the doc¬ 
tor said that the system needed it. 
It is certainly right to please the eye 
and the palate ; but, “Is art more beau¬ 
tiful than Nature ? ” Can any cook add 
beauty or palatability to ripe, fresh 
grapes or apples ? The omnipotent gives 
us the fruits ready for our eating. The 
grains are probably more suited to our 
digestion, and also more palatable 
after being ground and cooked. Those 
who are vegetarians from principle 
believe that the animals were not 
given us to be eaten, but as servants, as 
the horse and sheep, to render us labor 
and clothing in return for kind care and 
a decent burial. Fruits, not thoroughly 
ripe, may be made palatable and whole¬ 
some by cooking. Ripe fruits may be 
cooked and preserved in a wholesome 
condition till the time wEen there is no 
ripe fruit of that variety. But the more 
simply they are cooked, the better they 
retain their flavor and wholesomeness. 
So with grains. Does adding soda, spices, 
vinegar and such things add to the true 
Highest of all in Leavening Power.—Latest U. S. Gov’t Report 
ABMLUTE1.Y PURE 
THE DARNING MACHINE. Fig. 202. 
