[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
CAFRICIOUSNESS OF TASTE. 
stick and candle, three magazines, four diaries, one 
coarse comb and one fine-tooth o^fej one thimble, one 
breast pin. one cologne bottle,' one collar, one vol¬ 
ume Molieke s [days and French Dictionary, one 
Testament, one Italian Reader and Dictionary, one 
pen-holder, one letter, one newspaper, one blank 
envelope, one lucifer match, one piece foolscap, half- 
dozen used-up steel pens, one pair stockings, one 
pair garters, one Spanish Grammar, three pairs hooks 
and eyes, sundry pins, one inkstand and stopple, Ac. 
South Livonia, N. Y., 1861. , 
“Nothing is more capricious than taste," remarks 
Linda, Perhaps this is to, but I would like to know 
what taste hits to do with dress? Who drosses accord¬ 
ing to the dictates of taste? Not Esquire Ik’s wife 
and sister, who wear dark blue bonnets, bearing a 
profusion of red roses, when they had previously 
concluded that delicate white ones would add to the 
beauty of their fair complexions. No, they would 
[Written for Moore's Rural New Yorker.] 
I AM A HIRED GIRL. 
I am a hired girl! 
There was a time, oh. would it were forgot, 
And all the days spent in that, hill side cot— 
The rose tree climbing 'side the old brown door, 
The honey suckle, ever drooping lower, 
To lift the snow-drop as It clambered tip, 
fasting the sweets from Nature's dewv cup; 
Glistening in the pure and healthful ray 
Of the bright sun through the live-long day. 
A happy group was ever gathered there, 
And joyous songs forever filled the air. 
Freighted with love that lent to life a glow, 
Unscathed by sorrow, and unknown to woe. 
And, oh, how often do I wander back 
O’er the long trodden and well beaten track. 
Thinking that, all again will real seem. 
But, ah! vain hope! it is but as a dream. 
No mother stands to meet rue at the door, 
No father smiles, a* in the days of yore, 
No brother greet* the coming of mv feet, 
No sister waits ray tearful glance to*meet, 
For, ohl the home is broken—all are gone, 
Who once were gathered 'round the family stone. 
And I’m a hired girl, not that it’s a curse— 
It meat/erly supplies my scanty purse, 
(Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker ] 
WHAT WAIT WE FOR? 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
UNDERNEATH. 
What wait we for? The day has come 
The rising sun and opening flower, 
And song of birds and wild bees’ hum. 
All greet with joy the morning hour. 
The fields are to the harvest white. 
The grain ita nodding plumes bends low, 
As if the reaper to invite, 
And yet we still delay to go. 
What wait we for, with folded hands. 
In pleasure's gay, enchanted bowers, 
While swiftly glide the wasting sands 
Of life * most precious, priceless hours? 
Life hath n nobler aim than this; 
Tig toil Insures success, not fate. 
If we these golden chances mis*, 
To-morrow may bn all too late. 
What wait we for” There's work to do 
For every heart and every hand 
In this wide world of want and woe. 
Where ein ha* blighted erery land. 
Let each go forth while yet ’tis day. 
Fearless with Heaven inspired might, 
To wage a warfare ’gainst the wrong. 
And battle bravely for the right. 
What wait we for? while ignorance 
Wraps much of earth in darkest night, 
And we, the favored ones of God, 
Walk in the clear and noonday light! 
We who the keys of knowledge hold, 
Entrance to none rfiould e’er deny, 
But wisdom's gate* to all unfold, 
The way to immortality. 
What wait we for? All o’er the world 
Want, woe. and misery are found; 
The poor ye always have, said Christ, 
That charity might thua abound. 
Let each give, then, lu liberal shares, 
As God bath prospered biro in store, 
If rich, give alms; if poor, give prayers; 
And thua be blest forevermore. 
What wait we for? Nothing to do? 
Then dry the tears on Sorrow’s cheek, 
And pour the balm on wounded hearts, 
Sweet words of loving kindness speak. 
To scatter wide the seeds of Truth, 
Nurture the tender germ of Hope, 
And reap the harvest many fold, 
Gives largest talents ample scope. 
What wait wo for? The time i B short, 
Life’s little day is wan.ng fast, 
E’en now Death’s shadows drear athwart 
Our pathway fall our skies o’ercast. 
Then let us haste, while Mercy pleads. 
Repent, believe, and be forgiv’n. 
Our Savior follow, where He leads. 
Safe through life’s tils to rest in Heav’n. 
What wait we for? bet us arise, 
Cast off the purple robes of ease, 
Gird on the Christian armor briebt. 
Br IDA fair piked. 
Undkr our winters lie beautiful flowers, 
Golden and crimson through all the drear hours, 
Soft petals folded, secure from the blast, 
Waiting in patience till winter is passed, 
Rising in beauty with spring's early dawn, 
Glory and gladness to lend to the lawn. 
Under our sorrow*, which seem to de-troy, 
Of dimes lies hidden a life's fount of joy, 
.Silently waiting till time from our eves 
The salt drops of sorrow shall sweep to arise, 
Like the rainbow iff summer just born of the storm, 
With colors resplendent, t Wsunlight to warm. 
Underneath life this faint flutter of breath, 
This torch dimly burning, soon waning in death, 
Immortality lies, with a silent disdain, 
Awaiting time’s rust on mortality's chain, 
Awaiting the honr when thn soul from the sod 
Shall ascend in its glory to dwell with its GOD. 
Underneath death, but just vailed from our eyes, 
Await* for our entarance, the Heaven wc prise, 
Seraphs are sounding the triumphant strain, 
While on our lips dice the murmur of pain, 
Golden gates opened by death's silver key, 
Angel ones welcome the spirit set free. 
Independence, N. Y., 1861 
incy aid. Net Mrs. 1)., who is so tall '-hIic knows 
she don’t look well in strips " nor little Miss Dump- 
ung, who is so short that the length of her skirt is 
scarcely siitlieient for the width of a half-dozen stripes 
running roundwjsc, bnt must, nevertheless, wear 
such, because “they are all the go this year." Not 
Miss Julia, whose rosy face bears testimony that, her 
taste would not have led her astray, when she ex¬ 
hibited her new brown merino to a companion, Bay- 
ing,—“ they had a piece of beautiful green there, and 
I wanted it the worst way, bnt thought I must get 
this, because brown is all the fashion this season.” 
Not that young school-girl, who trails her long dress 
through the mud or snow for a half mile or more, 
twice a day, just because Sarah Smith wears one, 
when a dress six or eight inches shorter would be 
much more becoming and convenient. Not those 
who make childrens’ clothes so short they fail to 
reach the limbs above the stockings, which the chill 
winds of spring and autumn, yes, and summer, too, 
render as red as the feet of certain fowls, fabled for 
laying the golden egg, causing them not only to look 
as if they had grown out of their clothes a year ago 
or more, but to suffer the bitting stings of cold, and 
lay the foundation for weary hours of pain, and sick- 
I here is no greater every day virtue than cheerful¬ 
ness. This quality in man among men is like sun¬ 
shine to the day, or gentle, renewing moisture to the 
parched herbs. The light of a cheerful face diffuses 
itself, and communicates the happy spirit that 
inspires it. The sourest temper must sweeten in the 
atmosphere of continuous good humor. As well 
might fog, and cloud, and vapor, hope to cling to the 
sun illuminated landscape, as the blues and morose- 
ness to combat jovial speech and exhilarating laugh¬ 
ter. Be cheerful always. There is no path but will 
be easier traveled, no load but will be lighter, no 
shadow on heart or brain but will lift, sooner in the 
presence of a deter mined cheerfulness. It, may some¬ 
times seem difficult for the happiest tempered to keep 
the countenauce of peace and content; but the 
difficulty will vanish, when we truly consider that 
sullen gloom and passionate despair do nothing but 
multiply thorns and thicken sorrows. Ill comes to 
us a providentially as good, and is as good if we 
[Written lor Moores Rural New-Yorker | 
musinos, 
Hi art h hath its sorrows, and deep, corroding cares, 
— all share in the common lot,—eyes that were 
brightest dim, with blinding tears: hearts that were 
lightest, with intenser anguish break; the day of 
rosy dawning closes in deeper gloom. Almost daily 
are we called to witness some proof of the mutability 
of earthly hopes, and thus, from the frailty of the 
earthly are wc fought to place our best affections on 
things heavenly, 
Not long since I beard 
ness, and premature death. 
It is evident, even to casual observers, that a ma¬ 
jority dress themselves without any regard to taste 
whatever, bnt merely to follow the fashion, either 
near or remote, and this produces a tendency to over¬ 
dress. It is not caprkioumeas of taste that causes this 
proclivity; but in making taste, the innate love of 
order and beauty yields to the behests of capricious 
fashion. It is not only & pleasure but a duty to make 
one’s self beautiful, harmoniously bo, by outward 
ornaments and inward adorningH. And as mind is 
more enduring than matter, so should the exterior 
adomings bo made subservient to the growth of 
beauty in the spiritual, and not the reverse, as is 
most frequently the cuae. Ma y Myrtle. 
Albion, N. Y., 1801. 
“ which pa«s not away.” 
-1 a mother dwelling with 
delight on the speedy return of a loved son. The 
erect and manly form, the fair brow, the dark flashing 
eyes, all held a sacred place in that mother’* heart. 
Cherish them well, O mother, for tbon may’st never 
see them more. With eager haste her thoughts flew 
over the few months that might intervene before she 
fondly hoped to clasp the dear one again to her heart, 
it wan well that her vision deserted not the dark, 
fearful-looking cloud which rose every moment 
nearer; she saw nothing but the rosy hued in her sky. 
The shadow had not yet fallen. Just then, when 
feeling most secure, shot forth the dreadful bolt, en¬ 
tering and burning to its very center the mother’s 
heart. Ileart-reuiling was her anguish, as in piteous 
accents she cried, “ my sou, oh! My son. would I 
had died for thee, my son.” 
N\ c longed to breath words of comfort and holy 
cheer into the sorrowing mother’s ear. and .mint her 
DING-DING-DING. 
spending a few days in an excellent hotel at 
h. The guests were numerous, and so 
were 
the servants. When about to retire, I noticed that 
the barkeeper rang the bell repeatedly before any ser¬ 
vant appeared to accompany me to my room. Dircet- 
ly under my room, in the court of the house, was the 
bell which summoned the waiters to the office. Hour 
after hour the bell was jingling, the repetition after 
the first call having more and more of u scolding, 
imperative tone. The truth I found to be, to my cost,’ 
that the servants, naturally lazy, had become ac¬ 
customed to wait for the third or fourth call before 
stirring, so that they did not consider themselves 
really called until the last ring , whereas the simple 
and invariable regulation to answer the frst ring 
would have secured proper obedience, and all the 
subsequent ding-di+gs were not only needless, but 
mischievous. It would not be strange if they should 
be entirely disregarded at last. 
Parents are apt to ring too often. One command 
or request is enough, ir n is unoerstood. Lverv I 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yopker.] 
THE BORROWERS. 
in reply to the article of “Cousin S.,” in a late 
Kfkal, under the above caption, I have a few words 
to say, as her missive contains so ranch bitterness 
toward those “ inveterate foes of decency.” I have 
been a housekeeper for many years, and my husband 
was a subscriber to a magazine and one or two 
papers. My neighbors usually took one or two 
papers or magazines, and when I had read mine, I 
was very glad to change with them, if they desired, 
if not, I borrowed theirs, in order to secure a greater 
amount of reading than we were able to bny, count¬ 
ing it a privilege to borrow, or to lend. Now, when 
my husband “sleeps his last sleep,” and two children 
are looking only to me for support and while I 
cannot buy, 1 am glad to borrow. Ami ns long aa 
the Hi ral, ami sotqo other paper* vbiiSi 1 have read 
we had been talking of "Woman’s Rights,” one 
winter evening, in Aunt Betsy’s room,—talking girl- 
fashion, but none the less decidedly or enthusias¬ 
tically, from the fact that it was a subject wc knew 
little but fancied much about. 
At last Alice said, looking around to where she 
sat, her specs pushed up, and her eyes fixed rather 
quizzically on us, - “ what do you think about 
‘Woman's Rights,’ Aunt Betsy?” 
'Veil, girls, ’ she said, after a moment’s pause, 
“ T can tell jon just what I think, and I’ve a sort of 
an idea that it won’t do you any hurt either, seeing 
that I’ve seen more of the world than you have.” 
"Why, Aunt,” broke in Alice, “you’ve never 
been Tint of Saddlersville in your life, and we’ve been 
to the 1-alls, and the Springs, and i-.vor so many oUier 
places.” 
That may all be, child; but talking about 
“Woman’s Rights,— her rights are in her world, 
aint they? and her home is her world, isn't it? I 
think, may be, my dear, that I know full aa much 
[Written for Moore’* Rural New Yorker. 
ODDS AND ENDS. 
Definition, (founded on fact.) An American 
female help—an indmdj^l wbo\ when her mistress’ 
friends come visiting, vj^ppk-’ sauce o,f the table 
for tea: when her own puts on l prescrves. 
Mr. ani> Mrs. afford an illustration of St. 
Pierre’s theory of love being founded, not on 
resemblances, but on differences; that is, if you 
choose ho to interpret it in their case, it is not “deep 
calling unto deep,” but deep calling unto shallow, 
command, and the trouble of government is at an 
end; while the opposite principle has in it the ele¬ 
ments or procrastination and rebellion, which will 
reach beyond the family and beyond time. 
Teachers make the same mistake. Perhaps the 
school is noisy. Ding-ding goes the bell. The noise 
continues. Ding-ding-ding. The timid give heed, 
but the clamor ceases not. Ding-ding-duig-tfm^- 
m.va. . The school is brought to a stand at last; but 
the probability is that every subsequent uproar will 
-demand an additional ding , The training, to be 
authoritative and effectual, should be such that the 
first touch of the bell should arrest every ear, and 
the refusal to heed that should be dealt with as re¬ 
bellion.— Heber. 
GARDENING FOR WOMEN 
The Arab's Proof. 
Some years ago a French¬ 
man, who, like many of his countrymen, had won a 
high rank among men of science; yet who denied 
the God who is the author of all science, was cross¬ 
ing the great Sahara in company with an Arab guide. 
He noticed with a sneer, that at certain times his 
guide, whatever obstacles might arise, put them all 
aside, and kneeling on the burning sands, called on 
his God. Day after duy passed, and still the Arab 
never failed, till at last one evening the philosopher, 
when he rose from his knees, asked him, with a con- 
temptuons smile, “ How do you know there is a 
God/” The guide fixed his burning eye on the 
scoffer for a moment in wonder, and thee, said, sol¬ 
emnly, “How do I know there is a God? How did I 
know that a man and not a camel passed tuy hut last 
night in the darkness? Was it not by the print of 
his foot in the sand? Even so,” and he pointed to 
tiie sun, whose last rays were flashing over the lonely 
desert, “ that footprint is not that of man.” 
a man as Elder-could bring himself to preach so 
long sermons as he did. One can account for it only 
on the supposition that when he had once mustered 
up energy enougu to commence preaching, he was 
too lazy to stop, 
•1 - — says that a good share of the quarrels that 
occur between married people, originate in the hus¬ 
band’s determination to indemnify himself for the 
deference he felt compelled to pay his wife in their 
courting days. 
Why do the lower classes of English and Irish 
understand the American dialect of the English lan¬ 
guage better than we Yankees do theirs? The fact 
that we speak purer English than they, does not seem 
sufficient to account for it. 
When does a man estimate himself highest, when 
he regards himself as the equal of wise men or the 
superior of fools? 
It has been England and Russia against France, 
and England and France against Russia; when will 
it be Russia and Franco against England? 
This good old omnibus, the Earth, the older it 
grows, the faster it, seems to carry us round the sun. 
We talk of the wonders of steamboat and railway 
travel, but what are they in comparison with the grand 
rate at which we are all riding and never thinking 
THE FOUNDATION OF CHARACTER, 
knowledge. The humble cottage of the laboring 
poor, not less than their grounds, may be adorned 
with pet plants, which in due time will become red¬ 
olent ol rich pertume, not less than radiant with 
beauty; thus ministering to the love of the beautiful 
in nature. 
The wife and daughter that loves home, and would 
seek ever to make it the best place lor husband and 
brother, is willing to forego some gossiping morning 
calls, for the sake of having leisure for the ealtiia- 
tiou of plants, and shrubs, and flowers. The good 
housewife is early among her plants and flowers, as 
is the husband at his place of business. They are 
both utilitarians, the one it may be in the abstract, 
and the other in the concrete, each as essential to the 
enjoyment of the other, as are the real and ideal in 
human life. The lowest utilitarianism would labor 
only for the meat that perisbeth. Those of higher 
and nobler views, would labor with no less assiduity 
for the substantial things of life, but would in addi¬ 
tion seek also those things which elevate and refine 
the mind and exalt the soul. 
The advantages which woman personally derives 
from stirring the soil and snuffing the morning air, 
are freshness and beauty of cheek, and brightness of 
eye, cheerfulness of temper, vigor of mind, and 
purity of heart. Consequently she is more cheerful 
and lovely as a daughter, more dignified and woman¬ 
ly as a sister, and 
Heights of Redemption,— Oh, who shall measure 
the beightsof the Savior’s all sufficiency? First tell 
how high is sin, and then remember that as Noah’s 
flood prevailed over the top of the earth’s mountains, 
so the flood of Christ’s redemption prevails over the 
tops of the mountains of our sins. In heaven's courts 
there are to-day men that once were murderers, and 
thieves, and drunkards, and blasphemers, and perse¬ 
cutors; but they have been washed, they have been 
sanctified. Ask them whence the brightness of their 
robes hath come, and where their purity hath been 
achieved, and they, with united breath, tell you that 
they have washed their robes, and made them white 
in the blood of the Lamb.— Spurgeon. 
to be constantly busy. It is thought a mark of idle¬ 
ness in a woman to sit a whole evening, unless read¬ 
ing, without some manual employment; and if she 
go abroad to spend an afternoon, she must carry her 
knitting or sewing, but her husband or brother may 
accompany her without any work to occupy bis 
bands. 
The fine lady aud gentlemen are of modern origin. 
Moses gives no account of them in his history of the 
creation,—they were unknown in his time,—even the 
Now Testament makes no mention of them, though 
it speaks frequently of men and women; from which 
we conclude that uature, good, economical soul, 
picking np some shreds and parings of humanity in 
these latter days, thought she would try what could 
be made of them, and astonished herself, as well as 
all former creations, by the success of her efforts. 
What a chapter might be written on the incon¬ 
sistencies of authors! Emerson writes to persuade 
us of the folly of reading, and Carltle talks to 
enjoin upon us to keep silence. 
True Inventory of articles found on a lit(t)erarv 
table, which was a chest. One portfolio, one candle- 
hiLENT Influence.— It is the babbling spring 
which flows gently, the little rivulet which runs 
along, day and night, by the farm house, that is 
useful, rather than the swoolen flood, or the roaring 
cataract. Niagara excites our wonder, and we stand 
amazed at the power and'greatnss of God there, as 
he “pours it from his hollow hand.” But one 
Niagara is enough for the continent, or the world,— 
while the same world requires thousand® and tens 
of thousands of silver fountains, and gentle flowing 
rivulets, that water every farm, and meadow, and 
every garden, that shall flow night and day, with 
their gentle quiet beauty. So with the acts of our 
lives. It is not by great deeds like those of the 
martyrs, that good is dune; it is by daily and quiet 
virtues of life,— the Christian temper, the meek for¬ 
bearance. the spirit of forgiveness, in the husband, 
in the wife, the father, the mother, the brother, the 
sister, the friend, the neighbor, that good is to be 
Reverence for the Bible. — I suppose that the 
reverence of many persons for the Bible is owing to 
the confidence which they hate in persons they be¬ 
lieve to be Christians. ! suppose that there are hun¬ 
dreds of men that are exceedingly skeptical in regard 
to the Bible, who have a certain bidden reverence for 
it. Why ? God sent them an angel, and let her walk 
with them two years, and then took her home; and 
they hold her memory with such sacredness, that 
they say, “If there ever was a Christian, my wife was 
more attractive and confidiugusa 
wife. 
Hence the fruits and products of garden culture, as 
they relate to woman, when viewed objectively, are 
but small, relatively, as compared with the benefits 
secured in regard to herself, as the center of social 
refinement and enjoyment, amid such a world as ours. 
A husband who revolves round such a center, cannot 
but be a good neighbor, a useful citizen, a kind 
father, a loving aud confiding companion. Do not, 
then, mothers and sisters, the latter wives in prospect, 
neglect the garden.— Selected. 
Prayer is ever profitable; at night it is our covet¬ 
ing; in the morning it is our armor, 
Prayer should 
be the key of the day, and the lock of the night. 
Prayer sanctities all our actions. He is listed in 
God’s service and protection, who makes it his first 
work to he enrolled by prayer under the standard of 
the Almighty. He carries an assistant angel with 
him for his help, who begs his benediction from 
above; and without it he is lame and unarmed.— 
Feltham. 
Much as we may need energetic remedies against 
contagious diseases, we need them against contagious 
vices more; and quarantine laws in favor of moral 
health are the most necessary of all sanitary regula¬ 
tions. — Horace Mann. 
Cato observed, he would much rather that pos¬ 
terity should inquire u-hy no statues were erected to 
him, than why they were. 
companion of an evening and the companion 
require very different qualifications. 
