Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
ANNIVERSARY OF A DAUGHTER’S DEATH 
BY KATE WOODLAND. 
My child I do not love thee le**, 
That 1 can my, now years have flown; 
“ I would not call thee hack to earth, 
Even if the power were all my own." 
I loved thee fondly then, hut more 
Unselfishly I love thee now, 
For I am willing to endure 
My sorrow, rather than that thou 
Sbould’st sully thy white robes with earth, 
Or wearily ’neath sorrow bow. 
I do not love thee less my child, 
Because I sit with tearless eye. 
And tell of all thy gentle ways, 
Ere thou didst leave us for the sky. 
I calmly sit and fold away 
Each little garment thou didst wear, 
The toys thy childish hand hath borne, 
The locks of shining golden hair; 
And tears, sweet gentle tear* I shed, 
Where once my murmurs filled the air. 
If God had willed that thou s^ouldst iftay, 
Long happy years beside me here, 
Thrice blessed would my lot have been, 
Each little household flower to roar. 
But since the Father called thee home, 
I dare not murmur at His call; 
Unbounded wisdom judges best, 
And loving kindness governs all. 
Oh ! let me say “Thy will be done," 
Whatever may my life befall. 
Van Buren Co.. Mich. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MBS. ELIZABETH CADY STANTON, 
A8 SEEK AT HOME. 
In almost every newspaper we pick up now-a- 
days, something can be found to the effect that 
literary women and bad housekeepers are synon¬ 
ymous. We have seen this so often that, with 
the thought of such, immediately a vision of a 
wife with disheveled locks, a husband with but¬ 
tonless shirts, children with begrimed faces 
and ragged clothing, rises before us. Thu house 
a babel of confusion, with unmade beds, un¬ 
washed dishes, witli a slatternly maid, stares us 
in the lace; dust on the piano, (lust on the sofa, 
dust everywhere; we feel it iu our eyes and 
nostrils, and we cry out in desperation, “ Why 
were not women created like oysters? Why 
were they supplied with that seemingly worse 
than useless appendage, a head ? ” 
Then, like the fragrant breath of a June morn¬ 
ing, comes the thought of Elizabeth Cady 
Stanton, fanning the motes from our eyes and 
the cobwebs from our brain. Knowing how 
btrong and eloquent an advocate she is of the 
equal rights of her sister women, we arc willing 
to trust to her goodness to forgive if we slightly 
invade her domestic sanctuary, in trying to 
free them from unjust censure. Not that we 
think lier an isolated Instance of capacity for 
making home pleasant and beautiful among 
thoughtful women, but because years spent in 
the same neighborhood enable us to “speakthat 
we do know, and testify that we have seen,” and 
because her life proves so completely the folly 
of such sweeping assertions. 
With Mrs. Stanton, both as speaker ami wri¬ 
ter, many are familiar, but Mrs. Stanton at 
home all may uot know. A most devoted wile 
and mother, she studies at all times the best 
welfare of her family. The affairs of her house¬ 
hold, by no means small, arc conducted with a 
perfection of arrangement never excelled, and 
rarely equaled. There is no jarring, no confu¬ 
sion. Whatever she attempts to do she endeav¬ 
ors to have done as perfectly as possible; 
whether it is an address on Reconstruction, or 
the superintending of the preparation of pickles 
and preserves. I do not believe any one ever 
, entered her doors to find the house in disorder. 
Even house-cleaning she robs of its horrors. 
If she advocates “ Woman's Rights,” it is ev¬ 
ident many a thought of the loved ones at borne 
inspires her. To her husband, a genial, intelli¬ 
gent companion ; to her children, an interested 
sharer in all their joys and sorrows; nevertheless 
ready at any time, if she so desire, to enter iuto 
conversation, public speech, or argument, with 
men of thought and action. Speakiug of this 
reminds me that I have heard of men of giant 
intellect, whose minds became so unbullanced 
by their almost superhuman efforts that they did 
not know that their boots were on the eeuter- 
tablc and their hats in the coal scuttle; who 
were obliged to have recourse to two or three 
glasses of aqua-ardmte and a vigorous use of the 
mcensbaum to obtain an equilibrium. Whatev¬ 
er Mrs. Stanton says or does, she needs uot the 
aid of brandy or tobacco. n. A. A. 
Chicago, Ill., April, 1807. 
Dr. Franklin’s Daughter. — The Philadel¬ 
phia Ledger says of the widow of Prof. Bacbe : 
“It has not been so generally remembered as 
it deserves, that Dr. Frauklin’s only daughter, 
Mrs. Bache, was a true inheritor of the zeal of 
her father in the cause of this country, and by 
her energy and efficiency more than 2,200 needle¬ 
women were at one time employed in making 
clothing for the army. The French were par¬ 
ticularly struck with her appearance, and the 
Marquis dc Chastellcux recommended her as a 
model of domestic virtues and feminine patriot¬ 
ism to all the ladies of Europe. This no doubt 
secured to the sowing circle over which she 
presided the immense European contributions, 
which were necessary to support so vast a 
■jvorlc.” 
Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney, the author of “ Faith 
Gartney’s Girlhood,” is a woman about thirty- 
three years of age, has dark hair and eyes, and 
a face as beautiful as that of an Italian madonna. 
Mart was pretty well initiated in all the myste¬ 
ries of housekeeping, hut the other girls had a 
great many more faneifut notions than practical 
ones. I think their mother had an idea they 
might profit by the experiment when she gave 
her consent to it. 
Robert acquiesced in their proposition very 
readily, saying that now meeting with such a 
glad surprise at the outset, he thought it a pro¬ 
pitious sign. The next day they agreed to ride 
over and investigate. 1 went along with the 
load of merry-hearted young folks, and entered 
into all their earnest, bright-hned schemes with 
as much zest as any of them. An empty house 
always has a gloomy look, and when it is rather 
dilapidated, and just left by a not over-neat 
family, with dirty doors swinging and bare 
floors strewed with odd* and ends of every de¬ 
scription, it is not the most favorable place for 
the imagination to paint fancy pictures in. I 
had a fear it might damp the ardor of my young 
friends, but -was happily disappointed, for they 
beheld it somewhat in the same light as Robert 
did the farm. It did one good to listen to their 
lively chatter — how tins, that, and the other 
might be fixed and made to look as good as new. 
I so wish you could have listened, but I’ll put 
down a few things in their own words, as nearly 
as may be: 
Rftbert—Vm afraid it will be even more incon¬ 
venient. than our house, girls, and you’ll get dis¬ 
couraged before you begin. 
Mary —Ah ! you need not be afraid of that at 
all. We know pretty well what to expect. In 
fact, it is really better than I had looked tor. 
See these two roomspaint, paper and carpet 
them, and they will be real cozy and comfort- 
T HE LI T T L 
Timely blossom, infant fair, 
Fondling of a happy pair, 
Every morn and every night 
Their solicitous delight, 
Sleeping, waking, still at ease, 
Pleasing, without skill to please; 
Little gossip, lithe and hale, 
Tattling inauy a broken tale, 
Singing maDy a tuneless song, 
Lavish or a heedless tongue; 
Simple maiden, void of art. 
Babbling out the very heart, 
Yet abandoned to thy will 
Yet imagining no ill. 
Yet too innocent to blush; 
GOSSIPPY PARAGRAPHS. 
“ Jennie June"— Mrs. D. G. Croly, formerly 
of Rockford—it is said makes about one hundred 
nod fifty dollars per week, for the twenty odd 
letters that she regularly writes to newspapers, 
on fashions, and other topics. Her husband is 
managing editor of the New York World. 
ONE Important feature of the Paris Exhibi¬ 
tion will he the delegation of French artisans, 
comprising 1505 maleB and 10 lemalcB, whose 
duty it will be to study the mechanical contri¬ 
butions of other nations, with a view to France 
being beucUtted to the fullest extent by their 
exhibition. This delegation is to be elected by 
the great mass of the working people, and every 
one who votes is to receive a free ticket loi one 
visit to the Exhibition. Women are to be al¬ 
lowed to vote in this election. 
In Paris, a young couple went to a church to 
be married. During the time the ecclesiastic 
who presided at the ceremony was addressing 
them, the bride fell into a deep sleep, which 
lasted till the moment came at which the young 
husband was to put the nuptial ring on the 
linger of his drowsy partner. On perceiving her 
state of unconsciousness, he was, as may readily 
be believed, shocked and angry at such a flagrant 
disregard of decency. At the conclusion of the 
ceremony, lie informed his bride’s friends that 
he would not live with her; and, giving two 
thousand francs, as stipulated in the contract, 
lie left her. 
Only let a woman be sure that she is precious 
to her husband—not useful, not valuable, uot 
convenient simply, but beloved; let her fool that 
her care and love are noticed, appreciated ami 
returned; let her opinion be asked, her approval 
sought, and her judgment respected in matters 
of which shu is cognizant; in short, let her only 
lie loved, honored and cherished, and she will be 
to her husband and her children, and society, 
a well-spring of pleasure. She will bear pain, 
and toil, and anxiety, for her husband’s love is 
to her a tower and a fortress. Shielded and 
sheltered therein, adversity will have lost its 
sting. She may suffer, but sympathy will dull 
the edge of her sorrow. A house with love iu 
it is to a house without, love as a person to a 
machine; the one is life, the other mechanism. 
A few days since a gentleman from a distance 
visited Columbus, Ohio, on business, and having 
a leisure hour, concluded to call on Miss-, 
with w’homhe had some acquaintance. He went, 
rang the hell, and when she made her appear¬ 
ance at the door he did not recognize her iu her 
kitchen attire, lie asked if Miss- was at 
home. She very prudently accepted the situa¬ 
tion, and informed him that she was in, and after 
seating him in the parlor retired, as she observ¬ 
ed, to inform her of his presence. She went to 
her dressing room, and after a thorough rc-rig- 
giug, application of paints, powders, false curls, 
tilters, etc., she presented herself a second time, 
when she was at once recognized by the gent. 
Of course a pleasant hour was whiled away, du¬ 
ring which she found occasion to apologize for 
not making her appearance sooner than she did. 
How many ways deception shows itself. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
CONVALESCENCE. 
Sickness comes to ns with an iron hand, 
Bidding ns lay aside the cares of life, 
Looking beyond them to the “ better land,” 
We bcc the end of toil, and sin and strife. 
Wc scarcely heed the pain of fell disease; 
We breatbo the airs that come from o’er the tide, 
Sweet son.'s float over on the heavenly breeze; 
Songs of llis love—Our Saviour crucified— 
Unclasping gently all the ties of earth, 
Our very frailty seems a missive sweet, 
The soul rejoicing in its higher birth 
Sits softly singing—low at Jesus’ feet. 
But when, at last the stern disease is stayed, 
And Health returns, laden with care and strife, 
We miss the perfumed airs which round ns played. 
And almost dread this coming back to life. 
So now our chastened heart* resume again 
The cares of earth, until the race is run. 
We would not shrink from duty, toil, or pain, 
“Father in Heaven —Thy will, not ours, he done.” 
Brooks’ Grove, N. Y. a. a. n. 
SUNSHINE IN HEART AND HOME. 
BY REV. THEO. L. CUTLER. 
It is not where we are, but what we are, that 
determines whether we shall be happy or be 
wretched. When w'e read of the most eminent 
sovereign in the world sitting In her melancholy 
And what a nice large pantry. Clean it -eds of mourning beidde her dead hushand’s 
OSSIP. 
Like the linnet in the bush, 
To the mother linnet's note 
Moduling her slender throat; 
Chirping forth thy petty joys, 
Wanton in the change of toys, 
Like the linnet green In May, 
Flitting to each blooming spray; 
Wearied then and i lad of rest, 
Like the linnet in the nest; 
This thy present, happy lot, 
This, in time, will he forgot; 
Other pleasures, other cares, 
Ever-bu*y Time prepares: 
And thou shall in thy daughter see, 
This picture once resembled thee. 
€>^okc UtisciWaitg. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
COUNTRY SKETCHES. 
NUMBER TWO. 
The Anson farm was purchased; and Robert 
began to feel a new dignity In assuming the 
duties of a bona fide land-owner. Not a very 
enlivening prospect did the premises present to 
a casual observer; for the lute possessor was 
narrow of mind and feeble from age, and hud 
pinched out his darling dollars from a half- 
starved 6oil, ineffectually battling a wild horde 
of straggling enemies, that held fall sway in the 
fence corners, now and then marching boldly 
out into fields of grain, insinuating themselves 
into nil acquaintance with the elover-tops of the 
meadow, or bristling their briery heads with a 
defiant air among the potato vines. 
But to Robert these tliiugs did not present so 
discouraging a prospect as most people might 
imagine. The situation of the place was excel- 
lent—wide, naturally fertile fields, with a rolling 
slope to the southward, bordered on the north 
by a line of heavily timbered acres, quite a rare 
acquisition Lu these days of woodless farms aud 
patent eoal-burucrs. All the disadvantages of 
neglect left only wider room for improvement. 
How many self-formed schemes were arranged 
and re-arranged before they could be made to 
assume a practicable shape ? How many times 
all up, paper the shelves, fix the cupboard doors, 
and it will make quite a model pantry. And this 
bedroom down stairs will be just right for you, 
Robert. 
Susan— Oh, see here! What a nice little nook 
of a room here is. May’nt I have this, Mollie, 
and fix it all up my own way? ’Tis’nt large 
enough to put a bed in. I can take some pieces 
of that plaid carpet for it, and have cleats for 
shelves all up one side. This shall be the 
library. 
,/ aMC _Being as you have such a large collec¬ 
tion of books, Sue ! 
Svsan —Well, I know that; but I’ve gotten, 
besides school books and the dictionary, and 
then Mary and Robert can put theirs in ; and 
one shelf I will use for shells, and those curious 
Ktones Rufus gave me. 
Jam —Yes, I guess it will he nice after all, and 
you might use the south side by the window In 
the fall to put plants —your geraniums and 
stocks—yon know. But let’s go up stairs. Up 
here, this front room Is to be ours, I suppose. 
Just comoand look out this east window. What 
a beautiful view it will bo in summer. There is 
a spire glistening between the hills. I had no 
idea wc could see so far. And hero is a wide 
clothes press, and a little old closet, full of 
dusty, musty papers. Come up here, Sue, and 
maybe you can discover some relics to found a 
story on. Come up and look out this window, 
anyhow. 
Thus their feet tripped from cellar to chamber; 
their curious eyes peering into every place that 
could be investigated, while their tongues kept 
merry time telling how it could all be appropri¬ 
ated to the various needful uses of ft family. 
Whcu wc wore driving home a dark cloud scat¬ 
tered groat, dancing snow-flakes over us;—R ob¬ 
ert whistled a low’ tune in a quiet undertone to 
himself, and as he landed us at the home door 
he said he should begin to make majde sugar 
next week, if the weather was favorable; and if 
wc had a mind to straighten the old house a lit¬ 
tle, we could build crackling fires in the broad, 
old-fashioned fire-places, and christen the new’ 
home by having a sugar part}’. Erie. 
Home, March, 1867. 
-—---- 
DON’T BE EXTRAVAGANT. 
If the poor house has any terrors for you, 
never buy what you don’t need. Before you 
pay three ceuts for a jewsharp, my boy, ascer¬ 
tain whether you cannot make just as pleasant a 
noise by whistling, for which nature furnishes 
the machinery. And before you pay seventy- 
five dollars for a coat, young man, find out 
whether your lady would uot be just as glad to 
tomb, and refusing to be comforted we say to 
ourselves, “Royalty cannot save a heart from 
the heaviness that maketh it to stoop!” In 
splendid mansions quite as often as in lowly 
hut* the heart knoweth its own bitterness. 
When an envied statesman w’as congratulated 
with the usual salntc, “ My Lord, I wish you a 
happy New Year! ” he sorrowfully replied, “ It 
had need be a happier one than the last, for I 
never knew one happy day in it.” After a gifted 
young man had, by hard study, won the first 
honor iu old Cambridge University, he said, “ 1 
was surprised to find that 1 had grasped a shad¬ 
ow.” In more sense* than one it was a shadow, 
for it shaded his sonl with disappointment. But 
when that same brilliant young Henry Martyn 
gave himself up to the missionary work, aud 
laid dying alone under the walls of Tocat, he 
wrote in his diary, “I thought with sweet com¬ 
fort of God — in solitude my company, my 
friend, ray comforter. Oh! when shall appear 
to me that now heaven and new earth wherein 
dwelleth righteousness and love!” Ah! here 
was sunshine in the soul, that flowed from the 
light of God’s countenance. 
It is not where we are, remember, but what we 
are, that determines the joy or sorrow of our 
lot. I know of many a one who walks the low¬ 
ly vale, of utter poverty with a perpetual sun¬ 
shine on their path. 1 could take my reader 
into the little room of an aged widow of my 
flock, and show’ him how cheerful a Christian 
can be w hen the light of the eye has been extin¬ 
guished. Blindness has hidden from her the 
sight of her own grandchildren, the pages of her 
Bible, and the faces of those she loves. She 
lives in a perpetual night. Yet there is not a 
happier, serener spirit among us. The sun shines 
on her soul. 
IMMORTALITY. 
I cannot believe that earth is man’s abiding 
place. It cannot be that our life is east up by 
the ocean of eternity, to float a moment upon 
its waves, and sink into nothingness. Else, why 
is it, that the glorious aspirations, which leap 
like, angels from the temple of our heart, are 
forever wandering about unsatisfied? Why is it 
that the rainbow and clouds come over ns with 
a beauty that is not of earth, and then pass off 
and leave us to muse upon their faded loveliness V 
Why is it that the stars, who hold their festi¬ 
val around the midnight throne, are set above 
the grasp of our limited faculties, forever 
mocking ua with their unapproachable glory? 
And, finally, why is it that bright forms of 
human beauty are presented to our view, and 
then taken from us, leaving the thousand 
streams of our affections to flow’ back in Alpine 
to his mind’s eye there arose the Anson farm, fiCe in one that cost half the money. if she slreams ol our oitecuons to now uaca 
as it might be made under a thorough system of would uol let her crack her own hazel nuts and torrcnts U P 0D ***** ‘ f ^ e * ro f0r “ 
nftc.r a rctnip tn rteKistpri. nerhans. . * . i higher destmv than that 01 caith. llicie is a 
agriculture, after a while to be assisted, perhaps, 
by its fairer handmaiden, Horticulture ? 
But all these plane were kept to himself; for 
he knew they would only subject him to the 
ridicule of those who had been practical farmers 
buy her own clothes. "When you see a man 
spending two or three dollars a week foolishly, 
the chances are five to one that he’ll live long 
enough to know how many cents there are in a 
dollar, and if he don't, he’s pretty sure to be- 
for years, aud of course well knew’all ideas differ- queatb that privilege to his widow. When a 
ing from their own to be mere “bosh and non- man asks you to buy that for which you have 
sense.” Even if it were possible to carry out no use, no matter how cheap it is, don’t say yes 
these new-fangled schemes, they would not pay until you are sure that some one else wants it in 
in money value, which is the criterion by which advance. Money bums iu some folks’ pockets, 
all tilings should be judged. and makes such a big hole that everything that 
Now the decisive step was taken, Robert’s is put in drops through past finding. 
family took a lively interest in his future pros- --•- 
peets, aud there was a great deal of spirited dis- CARVING A CHARACTER. 
cUBsion about the new farm aud all pertaining - 
thereto. It was about two miles from the home- Did you ever watch a sculptor slowly lashion- 
stead, and Robert had thought of living at home ing a human countenance? It is not moulded at 
and renting the dwelling on the farm. But the once. It is not struck out at a single blow. It is 
girls put their head* together and laid another painfully and laboriously wrought. A thousand 
plan. Mother was consulted, and made no serf- blows rough-cast it. Ten thousand chisel points 
ous opposition, providing it should meet with polish and perfect it—put iu the fine touches, 
Robert’s approval, who was iufonned that if and bring out the features and expression, it 
he chose to set up an establishmc-nt of his own is a work of time; but at last the full likeness 
in the queer little old - fashioned house on comes out, and stands fixed and unchanging in 
the premises, there were two girls ready to the solid marble. So does a man cane out his 
undertake the office and duty of housekeepers, own moral likeness. Every day he adds some- 
Majiy was to be superintendent-general, and thing to the work. A thousand acts of thought, 
Susan and Jane were to take turns in being and will, and efiort, shape the feature and ex¬ 
housekeeper - extraordinary, as they laughingly pressions of the sonl. Habits of love, piety 
said in their frolicsome discussions. You may 
bo sure there were a great many rich scenes and 
new experiments in view when they calculated 
upon reigning supreme in their own dominion. 
and truth—habits of falsehood, passion or good¬ 
ness, silently mould and fashion it, till at length 
it wears the likeness of God, or the image of a 
demon. 
higher destiny than that of earth, there is ;i 
realm where the rainbow never fades; where the 
stars will spread before us, like islands that 
slumber on the ocean, and where the beings 
that pass before us, like shadows, will stay in 
our presence forever.— Exchange. 
Some One has Written “ I never found 
pride in a noble nature, nor humility in an un¬ 
worthy mind. Of all trees, I observe that God 
has chosen the vine, a low’ plant that creeps 
upon the helpful wall; of all beasts, the soft 
and patient lamb; of all fowls, the mild aud 
guileless dove. When God appeared to Moses, 
He was not iu the lofty cedar, nor the spreading 
palm, hut a bush—an humble, abject hush. As 
if He would, by these selections, check the con¬ 
ceited arrogance of man. Nothing produceth 
love like humility; nothing hate, like pride, i* 
good deeds. 
The peaches redden on the wall, , 
Hiding in hollow cells of green, 1 
Where plaited leaves hang thick about, ^ 
And scarce permit them to be seen. 
And so, in truth, good deeds should be i 
Concealed in 6weet humility. L 
“He that has the happy talent of parlor V 
preaching has sometimes done more for Cubist 
and souls in the space of five minutes, than by ^ 
the labor of many hours and days in the usual || 
course of preaching ill the pulpit,”—#''. Watts. 
