Shade vve drudge ? is a question which 
should be most thoughtfully considered. 
The suggestions which will be found in 
the discussion of the subject by S. E. il. 
are sensible and practical. Practical 
means more than it once did. The prac¬ 
tical woman of to-day is intellectually 
useful, but none the less accomplished as 
a housewife. Oh! happy dawn of a 
happy day, when culture begins to be as 
necessary to the useful woman as cook¬ 
ery. By systematizing the latter, time 
will be gained for the former, and the 
woman who does this successfully will 
be the admiration of her family. 
SHALL WE DRUDGE 
The number of applicants for admis¬ 
sion to Vassar is larger this season than 
ever before. The last class of graduates 
numbered 100, being larger than any 
former one. So higher education for 
women is flourishing, despite the many 
learned opinions condemning it. Only 
a few weeks ago an English physician 
of very high standing expressed his 
opinion at the Medico-legal Congress 
in this city, that the only proper place 
for woman is in the nursery. The 
American woman need not be at all 
disturbed at hearing this, or need she 
take the trouble to make any reply. 
Our able defenders have met and van¬ 
quished the Englishman's argument; 
for America’s supremacy rests on her 
women as well as on her yachts and her 
men. 
* 
The farm isn’t pacing and the son of 
the farm is getting discouraged. He is 
only a sort of a hired man on the farm, 
anyway, for his father never asks his 
opinion or advice about anything, and 
on the few occasions when he has had 
the courage to suggest some change, his 
father has dismissed the subject without 
giving it any consideration. When the 
boy sees that cooperation isn’t to be ex¬ 
pected on his father’s farm, it is but 
natural that he should proceed to make 
his own plans regardless of his father’s 
dOhe farm’s interests. The impetuous, 
impatient boy will not ask any one’s ad¬ 
vice about his course. But the more 
thoughtful one hears the suggestions of 
conscience and asks some one, perhaps 
The R. N.-Y., what he ought to do. lie 
wishes to know if it is his duty to stay 
on the farm. It is a hard question to 
answer. Any question that involves 
family duty, is rather too serious for an 
outsider to decide ; yet humanity is 
always appealing to others to solve its 
most sacred problems. A great many 
of these troublous questions would be 
cleared away by a sincere and loving 
understanding between the members of 
the family. The mother should be the 
first one to whom the boy goes for ad¬ 
vice. She is the best qualified to be her 
son's adviser, for she knows and loves 
both father and son and she herself has 
as vital an interest in the matter as either 
of them. Yet it is more difficult for the 
mother to give a wise decision in such a 
matter than it could be for any other 
person. But, that she has discharged 
that duty well, there are many to testify. 
* 
Connected with Hull House, in Chi¬ 
cago, there is a circulating art gal¬ 
lery. Pictures are simply framed and 
the poor are allowed to take one and 
keep it for a limited time, and, on return¬ 
ing it, may take another. Is there not 
an idea there that we may carry out ? 
Could we not loan our prettiest picture 
to the sick neighbor for whom we wish 
to do something ? We know how quickly 
the walls of a sick room grow monot¬ 
onous, and the busy woman who hasn’t 
very much time to spend with the sick, 
might in this way be able to cheer the 
invalid after her short visit was over. 
WHEN WE MAY DO BETTER? 
I DO not like that word, drudge. I 
'•* object to its being applied to the act 
of doing good, honest work. I should 
dislike still more to have it applied to 
myself. Not that I am afraid of good, 
hard work. To my thinking, it is not 
the work that makes a person a drudge ; 
it is the habit of thought. If I allow 
my work to depress me ; if I allow my¬ 
self to go to my work with a fretful, 
complaining spirit because I have that 
woi’k to do, then, indeed, does my work 
rule me, and I become that unhappy 
creature — a drudge. No matter how 
menial the toil, it may be done in a 
spirit that uplifts it, that makes the do¬ 
ing something grand, something noble. 
Could washing ever become drudgery to 
the woman who, while she washed, com¬ 
posed these lines : 
Queen of my tub, I merrily sin", 
While the white foam rises high, 
And sturdily wash and rinse and wring 
And fasten the clothes to dry. • 
Then out in the free, fresh air they swing, 
Under the sunny sky. 
To what extent shall the wife drudge ? 
To no extent. In the name of all bright 
and happy homes, never. Shall she not 
work, then ? Certainly, else she will 
lose one of life's greatest blessings—the 
privilege to labor for those she loves. 
But the moment she finds herself near- 
iug the line that separates the happy, 
contented housewife from the drudge, 
she must pause and ask herself, “why?” 
If she be physically incapable of doing 
the work she is trying to do, if she be 
an invalid, then, poor soul, she must bear 
the burden of folded hands until such a 
time as returning health and strength 
shall give her back the privilege of the 
busy housemother. But, if she be well 
and st ong, and still feels herself cer¬ 
tainly nearing the dismal kingdom of 
the drudges, there is an answer for it, 
easy to find when once sought, and that 
is, too little change. We are told that ••all 
work and no play makes Jack a dull 
boy.” Suppose that Jack were obliged 
to work from sunrise to sunset, and that 
he did nothing but peel potatoes from 
morning till night in a heated kitchen, 
not over cheery ; very likely it would 
soon become a well-known fact that Jack 
was, day by day, peeling less potatoes 
and doing his work less and less accept¬ 
ably. Let us suppose that Jack's master, 
in a moment of inspiration, said, “Jack, 
when you have all of your potatoes 
peeled, you may saddle Robin and ride 
to the upper pasture and drive the 
mares and colts down.” Does any one 
suppose that Jack would fail to get that 
ride because his potatoes were not 
peeled? By no means. When night 
comes. Jack has peeled all of his pota¬ 
toes, and has done his master a good 
chore besides; all of which goes to show 
that it was not too much work which 
made Jack a dull boy, so much as it was 
too little change. 
As with Jack so is it with all the rest 
of us. Nine times out of ten the work 
we find so wearing could be done cheer¬ 
fully and with no undue strain to health, 
if each day brought a few brightening 
changes as well as the old, dull routine. 
But here we are, men and women alike, 
“in the harness,” as the term goes. 
Each day brings its work that there is 
no getting away from. Shall we allow 
it to conquer us ? Shall we say that in 
doing the work God has given us to do, 
we drudge ? Never ! Rather let us con¬ 
trive some way to give ourselves the 
needed change, to intermingle with our 
daily work more of the brightening in¬ 
fluences—and so lift ourselves and hold 
ourselves above the dreary level of the 
drudge—while we hold fast to the quali¬ 
ties of mind and heart for which we are 
beloved, instead of degenerating into 
disheartened, morose, fretful human 
beings, whose presence is a shadow in 
any home. 
How is this change to be brought 
about? The wives and the mothers 
must take hold of the matter ; they must 
emancipate themselves, and then who 
knows but the way will open for them 
to free their husbands and children ? 
Thoughtful women all over the land 
are asking, “ What is my duty in regard 
to my family, my work and myself?” 
Women of brains, who lack the means 
to hire help in the kitchen, are studying 
the question, “ Shall I give all my time 
and energy to what I consider the proper 
care of my family and home, or shall I 
neglect my work to gain for myself a 
little change — a little recreation or 
study ? ” 
It is well they are giving the matter 
thought. They may question, but after 
all they must also answer. No one can 
mark out another’s path. Each must 
decide for herself ; but the leaven is 
working ; and some day lightened bur¬ 
dens and happier homes will be the 
result. s . E . u . 
(To be continued .) 
A luxury, rather than a necessity, 
would be a couch, in which the week’s 
mending might be kept separate from 
other sewing. Covered with pretty 
cretonne, and fitted with comfortable 
pillows, Jack could come and read or 
talk, if Jill had to sew evenings. A large 
hanging lamp in the center of the room, 
with bracket lamps near machine and 
cutting table, would be necessary for 
evening work. sergia wierne. 
A SEWING ROOM. 
A N ideal sewing room should have a 
square alcove, lighted by three 
long French windows on the east side, 
two of the same on the south side, and 
one on the west. These should be fitted 
with white shades and adjustable blinds, 
and should command a pleasant view of 
the outside world. The floor should be 
covered with good straw matting, and 
one or two rugs ; the room heated by 
steam or hot-water pipes to avoid dust. 
The necessary furniture should consist 
of a good sewing- machine, placed in the 
alcove, with chair of suitable height to 
use at the machine ; one low sewing- 
chair and two comfoi’table chairs for 
visitors ; a table of sufficient length, 
width and height, to cut out wrappers, 
etc.; another low cutting table for 
smaller work ; a good lap-board for bast¬ 
ing ; a pair of large, sharp, cutting 
shears, a smaller pair for trimming 
work, a pair for ripping, and a pair of 
adjustable button-hole shears—these to 
beheld in a case, screwed to the wall, 
above the cutting table. Near this, also, 
a pincushion, tilled with pins, and a 
case of needles of assorted sizes. One 
of the thread cabinets, filled with an as¬ 
sortment of numbers and colors would 
be necessary. 
1 here should also be two mirrors, 
reaching to the floor, placed opposite 
each other, and guarded about three 
feet from the floor by an adjustable wire 
fender ; one of the best complete dress- 
forms, Adjustable to any size ; a tailor 
system of dress cutting, and a screen 
large enough to use while trying on 
dresses. 
For holding materials for work, a set 
of drawers, graduated from deep to quite 
shallow ones would be needed ; the 
larger drawers for webs of sheeting, 
table linen, cotton batting, dress goods, 
etc., and the smaller ones divided into 
compartments for linings, white, dark 
and light, and flannel goods of different 
kinds. Each drawer should be labeled, 
showing its contents. One drawer should 
be for patterns, each having the name 
written where it could be seen without 
unfolding the pattern. An upper drawer, 
divided, should be reserved for pieces 
for mending, tapes, braids, canvas, 
bones, etc. Connected with the room 
there should be a large closet for hold¬ 
ing dress form, etc., when not in use, 
and another closet in which to hang 
dresses while in the unfinished state. 
Quilting frames and a good knitting 
machine would help to complete the 
workshop. 
RUSSIA’S LIQUOR LAW. 
T N all the history of the modern tem- 
perance movement, no public law or 
decree has ever attempted any task so 
gigantic or of such far-reaching im¬ 
portance as that which Russia’s new law 
has undertaken, says the Review of Re¬ 
views. Russia has determined upon 
nothing less than a complete govern¬ 
ment monopoly of the manufacture and 
sale of the liquor supply for the whole 
empire. Somewhat more than two years 
are to be allowed for the system to at¬ 
tain completeness. It is to be put in 
force in eight provinces on the first of 
July, 1890, in seven other provinces on 
the first day of July, 1897, and through¬ 
out all the rest of the empire on the first 
day of January, 1898. Saloon-keeping 
as a private business will be altogether 
abolished. The Russian empire will 
have a great advantage over the officials 
of South Carolina in carrying out its 
policy of a State liquor monopoly. In 
Russia, regulations of this kind do not 
meet with serious resistance. The Rus¬ 
sian law will be enforced to the letter. 
It is not for Americans to approve of the 
autocratic form of government ; but we 
may, nevertheless, be glad to see autoc¬ 
racy thus assert itself in behalf of the 
true interests of the people. The move¬ 
ment for political freedom in Russia has 
had no worse enemy than the drunken¬ 
ness of the people, which has helped to 
keep them poor, degraded and ignorant. 
With the improved school system of 
Russia, and the elimination of the vil¬ 
lage saloonkeeper, we may confidently 
expect that the Russian peasantry will 
gradually become fitted for self govern¬ 
ment. Since the abolition of serfdom, 
Russia has taken no step of domes¬ 
tic policy so important as this abolition 
of the private liquor traffic. 
LAYING THE DUST. 
T F a woman ever has a reasonable ex- 
cuse for “raising a dust,” it is when 
she is using a new broom on the sitting- 
room carpet. She has but to appear in 
the doorway—dusting cap on her head, 
broom in hand—and there ensues a gen¬ 
eral exodus of its occupants, specially 
the masculine element. Even the cat— 
though of an indolent nature—will 
scurry around the room in frantic quest 
of some friendly opening, after the dust 
exterminator has given two or three 
vigorous strokes of the domestic weapon. 
But I know of a home wherein peace 
dwells on sweeping day as on all other 
days, and having inherited an inquiring 
mind from a remote but illustrious an¬ 
cestor, 1 questioned the gentle exter¬ 
minator of that house who confided in 
me thus: “Having some old, old mat¬ 
ting, that was simply good for nothing 
in the world, I laid it on the sitting- 
room and parlor floors, and put my 
carpets down over it. The secret of 
there being no dust when I sweep is this: 
The dirt, instead of rising in lung-de¬ 
stroying clouds in the air, sifts through 
the old matting to the floor, and there it 
lies until the carpets are taken up in the 
spring ; and a much better place for it, 
in my humble opinion, than floating 
around in the air, often—if we may be¬ 
lieve the scientists—laden with some 
deadly bacteria.” s, p. p. 
