“SAVIN’ MOTHER.” 
The farmer sat in his easy chair, 
Between the fire and the lamplight's glai’e ; 
His face was ruddy and full and fair. 
His three small boys in the chimney nook 
Conned the lines of a picture book. 
His wife, the pride of his home and heart, 
Baked the biscuit and made the tart, 
Laid the table and steeped the tea. 
Deftly, swiftly, silently. 
Tired and weary, and weak and faint, 
She bore her trials without complaint, 
Like many another household saint— 
Content, all selfish bliss above, 
In the patient ministry of love. 
At last, between the clouds of smoke 
That wreathed his lips, the husband spoke: 
“ There’s taxes to raise, an’ int’rest to pay, 
And ef there should come a rainy day, 
’Twould be mighty handy, I’m bound to say, 
T’ have sumpthin’ put by. For folks must die, 
An’ there’s funeral bills, and gravestuns to buy— 
Enough to swamp a man, purty nigh. 
Besides, there’s Edward and Dick and Joe 
To be provided for when we go. 
So, ’f I was you, tell you what I’d du : 
I’d be savin’ of wood’s ever I could ; 
Extra fire don’t du any good ; 
I’d be savin’ of soap, and savin’ of ile, 
And run up some candles once in a while ; 
I’d be rather sparin’ of coffee an’ tea, 
For sugar is high, 
And all to buy, 
And cider is good enougli for me. 
I’d be kind o’ careful about my clo’es, 
And look out sharp how the money goes, 
Extry trimmin’ 
’S the bane of women. 
“ I’d sell off the best of the cheese and honey, 
And eggs is as good, nigh about, ’s the money. 
And as to the carpet you wanted new, 
I guess we can make the old one du; 
And as for the washer an’ sewing machine, 
Them smooth-tongued agents, so pesky mean, 
You’d better get rid of ’em slick and clean. 
What du they know about women’s work ? 
Du they calkilate women was born to shirk ?” 
Dick and Edward and little Joe 
Sat in the corner in a row. 
They saw the patient mother go 
On ceaseless errands to and fro; 
They saw that her form was bent and thin, 
Her temples gray, her cheeks sunk in; 
They saw the quiver of lip and chin; 
And then, with a warmth he could not smother, 
Out spoke the youngest, frailest brother: 
“ You talk of savin’ wood and ile 
An’ tea an’ 3Ugar, all the while, 
But you never talk of savin’ mother ! ” 
_ —Credit Lost. 
The next prize contest will be an¬ 
nounced next week. We hope to have 
something so interesting that those who 
have hitherto been unsuccessful will feel 
like trying again. The conditions will 
be somewhat different from former con¬ 
tests, to the advantage of the writers. 
MY BEST TEACHER . 
FIRST PRIZE. 
My best teacher believed that, to do 
her whole duty to her pupils, was to fix 
in their minds unalterable standards of 
right and wrong ; to teach them the 
true and comparative value of the things 
that make up life, rather than to make 
everything yield to the acquirement of 
technical facts. The proper direction of 
youthful and immature impulses, the 
cultivation of the power of discrimina¬ 
tion, the ability to sift out, discard or 
accept, to become an authority each to 
himself—these things were of more im¬ 
portance to her as educational factors, 
than the geography or multiplication 
table, though we were well drilled in 
those things. No sham, no poorly pre¬ 
pared recitation, no attempt at deceit, 
no transgression or foolishness of any 
kind, were tolerated by her ; but her 
pupils were made to feel that while she 
condemned unsparingly every error, 
every failure to do, and to be, the best 
that was possible, she still had the 
tenderest compassion for the fault, the 
gentlest judgment for the immaturity of 
intelligence that led to it. 
No item of personal vanity ; no work 
for her own success as a teacher; no feel¬ 
ing of partiality, of gratification, or dis¬ 
pleasure, were allowed to influence her 
with regard to any pupil, but all were 
made to feel that whether praise or 
blame was their portion, it was because 
one course was right, the other wrong. 
Jler praise was a reward for which all 
worked, and all appreciated ; her blame 
a punishment that, once felt, was seldom 
necessary again. The lessons that have 
been most useful to me; the mental train¬ 
ing that has helped me more than all the 
technical education I have ever received; 
the acquirement of all that is best in 
both general and special educational 
lines, I received from my best teacher. 
m. j. s. 
SECOND PRIZE. 
There was a culture in Miss F.’s con¬ 
duct and life, that awoke my better 
nature, and stirred new impulses within 
me toward the good and true. Her 
words were usually gentle and kind, yet 
an uncommon perversity was dealt with 
promptly and effectively. The refrac¬ 
tory pupil, while feeling the hand of 
iron, was sensible likewise of its sheath 
of velvet, which seemed to charm away 
the pain of discipline and leave no after¬ 
smart. No animosity or hate came near 
her heart. 
Our plays and social life were also 
under the teacher's guiding influence, 
and there was constant incitation to 
good conduct and toward forming right 
social relations. The selection of our 
playmates on the basis of dress and 
social status of the parents, was discour¬ 
aged. Our school life was a daily drill 
in the closing of doors properly, correct 
attitudes in sitting and standing, and 
the general habits of neatness, economy, 
courtesy, etc., that enter so largely into 
our after lives. Other teachers had in¬ 
sisted on these things for a time, but 
Miss F. seemed to have right ways so 
engrafted upon her life that they had 
become habitual. 
There were few dishonorable practices 
in the school work, for she did not look 
for them, and seemed so pained on dis¬ 
covering them ; but there was nothing 
weak or sentimental in her nature. She 
had rugged womanhood, tact and com¬ 
mon sense. With infectious good-nature 
and hearty, honorable ways, one felt in 
her presence continually a strong up¬ 
ward impulse toward nobler life. Then, 
there was constant appeal to the sympa¬ 
thies, the humane side of our natures. 
In geography, for example, the study of 
coal did not end with a brief description 
of its appearance, formation, use, etc., 
but went on into details of the men's toil 
in our behalf in the chill and gloom of 
the mines. Also, in relation to other 
products, our better selves were stirred 
by stories of the self-sacrificing toil of 
fishermen on stormy seas, of weary, heart¬ 
sick mothers at the looms, of iron pud- 
dlers in the scorching breath of furnaces, 
and, in connection with commerce, the 
lives of the lighthouse keepers and the 
life-saving crews on lonely, surf-washed 
shores. 
But all this was incidental, because it 
was preceptive, while the great funda¬ 
mental, ever-living, ever-present truth 
was before us that life was not some 
vague, strange thing which would come 
to us some time, but that we were living 
now, and that our present acts and 
thoughts indicated with surety our 
future characters. This emphasis placed 
by our teacher on the value of the here 
and now, entered permanently into our 
lives, and we came to believe with Emer¬ 
son that “ One of the illusions is that the 
present hour is not the critical, decisive 
hour ; write it on your hearts that every 
day is the best day in all the year.” A. c. 
THIRD PRIZE. 
In recalling the teachers of my child¬ 
hood, I think of one who did more to 
help me form a true character than all 
of the others. She was of superior edu¬ 
cation, and of strong individuality ; but 
the marked particulars in which she ex¬ 
celled were strong conscientiousness, and 
a loving, personal interest in each of her 
pupils. I recall many instances in which 
she would ask some pupil if he had de¬ 
cided what he would do when he became 
a man. Perhaps the answer would be, 
“a carpenter.” Then she would reply, 
“ We must try each day to think what a 
carpenter ought to know.” In an arith¬ 
metic lesson, points were brought up in 
this way : “If you become a carpenter, 
how shall you measure this board ? If 
it measures three feet eight inches, what 
fraction will express it?” “As a lan¬ 
guage lesson you may make a statement 
of the various articles required in build¬ 
ing a house.” “As a geography lesson, 
you may name the countries or towns 
where they can be obtained.” “As a his¬ 
tory lesson, you may describe various 
forms of buildings which have been in 
vogue in different countries. And for a 
drawing lesson, you may sketch your 
ideal house.” Of course these things did 
not follow each other in rapid succes¬ 
sion, but extended over months or even 
years, serving to keep alive our interest 
in business matters, and helping many a 
pupil to decide for what work he was 
fitted. 
I think, too, of her deep interest in 
our moral and religious character. The 
solemn question, “ Is that right ? Would 
God be willing to have you do that ? ” 
often appeals to me now. She never 
appealed to us directly in a way to 
arouse prejudice ; but each one of us 
knew that her one wish for us was a 
noble Christian manhood, a life whose 
thoughts, words and deeds should be 
shaped by the Golden Rule. Many, very 
many of us, can attribute our success in 
life to the bent given our thoughts by 
her words. Could I select for my own 
children a teacher after my own ideal, 1 
would choose one of broad culture and 
extensive knowledge of common things ; 
of warm heart and earnest purpose, who 
should live in the very spirit of truthful 
conscientiousness herself, and with lov¬ 
ing and tender painstaking, try to in¬ 
duce the children to live the same life, 
and walk in the same steps. j. m. r. 
FOURTH PRIZE. 
Among teachers good and teachers 
many, 1 can distinctly remember my 
“ best teacher.” One is not likely to for¬ 
get the best things of life, and one of 
these is a good teacher, who, next to the 
parents has the means of developing 
alike the minds and characters of the 
children. My best teacher was a woman, 
as best teachers often are. I do not say 
always are, but believe that they are 
often better endowed by nature to teach 
children. Her success lay in no strong 
personality ; rather in her love for her 
work, her thoroughness of teaching so 
as to be most instructive and helpful, a 
simplified manner and methods which 
are more easily grasped and retained by 
youthful minds. There was no favor¬ 
itism shown ; the dull were encouraged, 
the quicker ones came forward without 
especial care. Faults were not over¬ 
looked in any, but corrected with a 
gentleness and firmness which com¬ 
manded alike the love and respect of the 
children. She always set a good example 
in true politeness and personal neatness; 
gave attention to order, both in the 
schoolroom and play ground, observing 
every opportunity for moral training 
that the children might be good as well 
as clever. 
I would prefer for the teacher of my 
children, not the greater scholar, but 
the better teacher. The greater object 
of education is to teach children how to 
study, and investigate for themselves, 
and it is upon this thorough knowledge 
of finding out how to gather and assimi¬ 
late for themselves, not only from books, 
but from nature, that their success de¬ 
pends. F. A. H. 
A COOKING LECTURE. 
RECIPES WITH THE REASONS WHY. 
Part VI. 
SHALL now prepare mutton chops. 
The objectionable flavor that some 
people find in mutton, is owing to the 
thin skin on the outside ; if that be re¬ 
moved, it will entirely do away with 
the woolly flavor, as it is called, of mut¬ 
ton or lamb. This is not a difficult 
thing to do, especially if some of the fat 
be taken away ; this fat is one of the 
things for which I have been unable to 
find any use. 
Question. —Would you advise a farm¬ 
er’s wife to have a sharp knife ? 
Answer. —Yes, I would, most decid¬ 
edly. I shall now fry the mutton chops. 
I shall pan-broil them, that is, cook 
them in the frying-pan without any fat. 
In order to broil with a wood fire, you 
must have coals, and, of course, this 
spoils the fire for anything else, for the 
time. Steak of any kind pan-broiled, is 
almost equal to that broiled over coals. 
I think there is some talk, at least in 
some localities, in the direction of bring¬ 
ing charcoal broilers into favor, so that 
they may be used with an ordinary wood 
fire. Of course, meat broiled over char¬ 
coal is the perfection of broiled meat. 
In pan-broiling, we need a thick or thin 
iron or steel frying pan, heated very 
hot—exceedingly hot—so that the pan 
turns blue, and then the meat after it 
has been wiped and the fat removed, 
and the skin also removed if mutton 
chops, will stick when it is placed in. 
After a minute, it will loosen of itself, 
somewhat, and may then be turned, and 
seared on the other side ; after being 
seared on both sides, it may be set 
where It will not cook so fast. Just be¬ 
fore it is taken off, it may be salted, and 
pepper added if desired. If too much 
of the fat fries out, jt should be turned 
off. The frying-pan must be kept dry 
all the time, as it is not frying, but pan- 
broiling. 
Q.—Did you pepper it before cooking? 
A.—No ; not until after it is done, as 
pepper is made somewhat rank by cook¬ 
ing. _ 
THE COAT MAKES THE MAN. 
HE superiority of sex has been 
often discussed, and is by some 
taken for granted without seeking rea¬ 
sons therefor. A writer in the Jenness- 
Miller Monthly lays bare the foundation 
of part of man’s superiority in a way 
that will certainly cheer the pocketless 
sex. For may they not claim the right 
to many pockets as well as other rights? 
Every man is a clerk accoutered for 
instant service. One pocket carries a 
fountain pen, a black lead pencil and a 
red and blue crayon pencil. Another 
pocket furnishes an eraser and a pencil 
sharpener. A third pocket completes 
the outfit with a supply of paper. It is 
safe to say that most men, sooner than 
part with these portable clerical privi¬ 
leges, would resign the right to vote. 
Fancy a man carrying his pocketbook 
in his hand—with his handkerchief—all 
through a day’s work ! Yes, and his 
postage stamps, and his rubber bands, 
and his business cards in a dainty card 
case, and his scissors, and his account 
book, and his letters, and his memo¬ 
randa ; and how could a man do busi¬ 
ness with his watch dungeoned in the 
limbo to which women condemn theirs, 
when they carry any at all ? A man’s 
pockets make him resourceful, ingen¬ 
ious, helpful. They give him assurance 
and positiveness. Woman, carrying her 
possessions in her hand, labors much of 
the time under an uneasy sense of hav¬ 
ing lost something. Man is sure he has 
lost nothing. It is in one of his pockets. 
A man’s pockets make him analytical ; 
they teach him to classify. He appor- 
