BV ANNIE UKHMKllT, 
DRIFTING with quiet onr 
In an eddy cool and sweet, 
With restful peace from the billows’ roar, 
And rest for the tired feet; 
Hands that are Willing, but weak, to fill 
The work of the busy brain, 
Heart that will shield Its trensuro still 
From the crucible of pain, 
While the river’s song Is a lullaby, 
To the lilies on its breast, 
And, elinsing closer, their lips reply 
With passionate languor, 
11 Rest.” 
Only to think and feel. 
And sigh for the bliss—to do ; 
To smile when the swaying vines reveal 
Tho sunshine filtering through; 
To dream, when swallows are trooping back. 
And the robins build ami sing. 
Of bird* that wait on the southward track. 
With weary end wounded wing; 
To wnkou under the gunny blue, 
With the loves 1 love the best, 
And Ups of Mossing, forever true, 
Taut tenderly murmur, 
“ Rest.” 
To feel quick pulses jar 
To the city's outmost rim, 
And long for violets growing far 
In the bush of the woodlands dim; 
To know the West Is aglow with gold. 
And tho orient gates of pearl 
Swing wide, till tho day grows on and old. 
And the evening billows curl, 
While the oarsman sing, '* Your work shall speed 
In prayers for tho souls oppressed; 
Each midnight hi doth its golden meod, 
And tho morning coineth,— 
Rest.’’ 
What of all I had planned 1 
What of tny anxious thought? 
Hold firm In the sweep of a mightier Hand 
That tuninth our toll to naught, 
And glcanoth the threads of our tangled maze, 
That the angels weave complete 
In flowers, that border the perfumed ways 
Of the Paradise garden* sweet, 
So drifting out from the tolling throng, 
And nearer my Father’* breast, 
The far off sound of their clarion song 
In a dreamy echo,— 
“ Rest.” 
The quiet that folds me round 
May strengthen my soul for strife, 
Or break, in ripples of silvery sound, 
On tho beautiful banks of Fife, 
When the little things that our hands have done, 
And tho great deeds, only planned, 
The wish and fruition shall be as one, 
In the light, of the Morning Land; 
And, avail drtfUri.T with broken oars. 
Our Father’s will is best, 
IIo holds the eddies along the shores. 
And His angels whisper, 
“ Rest,” 
-» ♦ ■» - - - ■ 
LESSONS AT THE WASH-TUB. 
BY LETTIE. 
“Oh, dear! I wish Dr. Holder had never 
gone to Europe,” stud Ella Wilson to her 
elder sister, as she took her place early one 
Monday morning at the wash-tub. 
“ Why, what difference does that make to 
you, Ella ? It certainly improved his 
health very much, and his manners too, 1 
think.” 
“ That may be; but ho has put such ideas 
in mother's head. Instead of recommend¬ 
ing for me to ride horseback, or play croquet, 
or any exercise that is fashionable, to regain 
my strength, he has made her believe that 
standing at this wash tub will do more for 
me than anything else. I hoard him ex¬ 
plaining to her the effect of the warm suds 
on tho nervous system, and with what won¬ 
derful success it had been tried on several 
patients ho visited in Europe. Just look at 
my red hands! What will Harry say, if ho 
calls this evening?" 
“ If lie is a sensible young man, he will not 
think less of you for that. Red hands are 
no disgrace, and if the color comes back to 
your cheeks in consequence, you will gain 
more than you lose,” 
“Nell, onethiugl Know, if Iconclude to 
accept him, and become his wife, he will not 
wish me to labor in this way.” 
Ella was right in her conclusions; for 
when Harry called that evening, and she 
promised to bo hi* forever, he told her (as he 
noticed Her hands were not as white as for¬ 
merly) she should never have to put them 
in the wash tub after she became his wife. 
Harry Redden was a young man of con¬ 
siderable business capacity, living just for 
the present, making money and spending 
it as ho went, without any thoughts of the 
higher ends (?) and nobler purposes of life. 
In selecting a companion he. had looked for 
one w r lio could make a show in the world, 
and grat ify his selfish pride, and thought 
he had found the one he sought in Ella 
Wilson. Ilers was a character that might 
have been moulded into almost any form; 
naturally gentle and loving, her great lack 
was decision, so that in ten years after 
their marriage you would hardly have 
recognized her former self at all, so com¬ 
pletely had she conformed to her husband’s 
ideas in everything. They were not quite 
so prosperous now as they had been, for 
failing to acknowledge Hod’s hand in their 
daily mercies, and consuming Ilia blessings 
wholly upon themselves, they were want¬ 
ing in that sweet consciousness of heartfelt 
joy that comes only to those who know how 
to deny themselves for others’ happiness. 
Five years, and we look at them again; 
three rooms is the extent of Iheir earthly 
home, and Ella Is standing at the despised 
wash-tub, not now murmuring that her 
hands must bo discolored by such healthful 
toil, but thankful she ever learned so much 
of labor, that she can aid her husband in 
his failing health to cam the means for 
their daily subsistence. Their riches that 
gratified their pride have vanished, their 
children, all but two, are in the grave; but 
she is happier now in that humble home 
than ever before in her life. She has drank 
of that fountain of endless joy, and is look¬ 
ing forward to such a glorious home, that all 
the privations here seem as nothing. I 
hear Iter singing now at the wash-tub, and 
to her husband, who has just come in, weary 
and worn, she says —” 1 Larky, what should 
T do now if 1 had not years ago learned 
those lessons at tho wash-tub?” 
-- 
EDUCATING WOMEN FOR BUSINESS. 
From S. S, Packard, President of Pack¬ 
ard’s Business College and English Train¬ 
ing School, in this city, we have received 
a lengthy communication, which we are 
obliged to condense for tho want of room, 
relative to an offer he made more than two 
years ago, to educate gratuitously fifty wo¬ 
men for business. In a letter, the sub¬ 
stance of which appeared in the RURAL 
some time ago, ho spoke of the comparative 
failure of the project, front tho fact that so 
few who applied were prepared to complete 
the course, and t hus make themselves com¬ 
petent as clerks and accountants. As a re¬ 
sult of this article, some thirty women, from 
all parts of the country, have written to 
Mr. Packard, and lie now informs them 
that tho main cause why women are not 
successful in obtaining employment is be¬ 
cause they are unable to perforin the work 
required. This fault may not be wholly 
their own, and begins early in life, owing to 
the mistaken notions of parents relative to 
t.ho education of girls. Notwithstanding - 
this, Mr. Packard was of the opinion that 
there were plenty of women in this country 
who only lacked the opportunity to fit 
themselves for some useful employment. 
He felt it was not true that melt had com¬ 
bined against women, lie found there was 
no prejudice against women iu the business 
houses of New York; that the general feel¬ 
ing was that they either could not or would 
not make themselves proficients, so as to 
occupy a paying position. Ho therefore 
made the offer he did, looking only to the 
ill-paid women of New York city who might 
possibly find time toatteud his college. IIo 
had not thought of being misunderstood, 
and did not propose to take tho entire 
charge and responsibility of tuition, board, 
and incidental expenses of any number of 
women who might come to Now York. 
Neither could he guarantee to all such wo¬ 
men an adequate education with an assured 
position. Hia offer was limited to one year, 
which expired a year ago; it covet ed only 
the matter of tuition; it, was not intended 
to induce young girls of sixteen to leave 
good homes and advantages to follow an in¬ 
sane ambition in a wicked city; he did not 
propose to become a philanthropist, but to 
test a theory that the burden of complaint 
made by the women of to-day against the 
men is unfounded. Employers want ser¬ 
vices, and care little about sex; there is no 
fatal prejudice agaiust women. Mr. Pack¬ 
ard thinks that many women tvho would 
have been glad to accept of his offer could 
not do so, as they were unable to support 
themselves the while. 
-♦♦♦-- 
Tub heart is ready enough at feigning ex¬ 
cuses for till that it does or imagines of 
wrong; but ask it to give a reason for any 
of its beautiful and divine emotions, and it. 
can only look upward and be dumb. When 
we are in the right we can never reason, but 
only assert.— J. if. Lowell. 
-- 
If you cultivate the worship of beauty and 
truth; if the sanctity of the moral speaks to 
your heart; if all beauty and all truth bring 
you back to the hearth of holy life; and, if 
arrived there you forbear speech, you cover 
your head, you perfectly confound thought 
and language in order tosay nothing par¬ 
tial in tho presence of the infinite, how dare 
you talk of atheism?— Henan. 
flailing for the Doting. 
I KNOW. 
MY ANNA CLEAVES. 
I know where tile violets hide, 
For I spied them out to-day; 
Little fairy yellow tilings, 
Blooming sweet In God’s highway. 
I know where the wtoter-pluks 
Scent with perfume all the air; 
And where tiny mnas-cupi grow, 
In God’s garden, Just out there. 
1 know whore the bittersweet 
Flaunts her crimson anil her gold; 
And the catbrtcr’a purple, wreath 
Clusters in God’s hedgerows old. 
I know where a little wren 
And a sparrow get. their food ; 
For I saw them eat the plums 
Of the cedar. In God’s wood. 
I know whore it squirrel gray 
Looks and looks aud winks at me ; 
As ho peeps from out his den, 
Tip there in God’s great oak tree. 
I know where a flook of quail 
Settled for u nap last night; 
Ah ! I saw their footprints plain 
’Neath God's snow drifts, pure and white. 
O 1 I know so many things. 
Anti I’m happy ult the while; 
Happy as tho birds and flowers. 
For I live in God's sweet smile. 
LETTERS TO YOUNG RURALI8TS.-II. 
FROM COUSIN JOHNNIE. 
My Dear Little Ruralisth I prom¬ 
ised to toll you about my funny name, didn't 
1 ? A ltd wo must always keep our promises, 
even little ones, you know. Well, you see, 
the family were all girls; go when I, tho 
youngest, and last, came into this beautiful 
world, and wasn’t a boy, either, everybody 
was very much disappointed. But my aunt, 
then a young girl full of fun, declared l 
should be a boy anyhow, for she was going 
to name mo JOHN, after my father and 
grandfather before me. So Johnnie 1 was 
called, and Johnnie I have been ever since. 
I never signed myself Mary at. all until I 
began to write for the public; and my let¬ 
ters, the most of them, come directed to 
“ Miss Johnnie -!” Sometimes my 
friends, just for fun, will call me Mary, but 
l don't realize they are speaking tome, any 
■f»^»re than if they said Sarah, or Maria, 
and so never think of answering them. I 
am often asked if 1 would not like to have 
people give tip calling me Johnnie; but 1 
wouldn't for anything. Why, it would be 
just like giviug up a part of myself. I 
should as soon think of shaving off all iny 
hair, or pulling out all my teeth. I should 
feel like the little woman who went to mar¬ 
ket with eggs to sell, fell asleep on the king’s 
highway, aud when she awoke, finding how 
t he naughty peddler. Stout, had cut off her 
skirts, began to cry, “ Ban -a,-massy on me, 
this surely can’t be 1 !'^ 
I am very glad so many of the boys and 
girls have pets; for if we love and are kind 
to animals, we ihall find it very easy to love 
and be kind to people. I shall have to tell 
you, sometime, about a pet chicken T used 
to have when a little girl. I think Frank 
A. B. must have been very industrious to 
gather so many nuts. I should like to be 
there to help him read the Rural these 
long whiter evenings. I liked dear little 
Ollie’s letter; it sounded just like a little 
girl’s, and not a bit as if some big brother or 
sister had “ fixed it up.” as some of the let¬ 
ters now and thou do. If I had room, I 
should like to say something about all the 
letters, but I cannot this time. So good-by, 
dear children. 
-- 
OUR LETTERS FROM BOYS AND GIRLS. 
Blanche R. writes as follows:—I live in 
Mayvilie, N. Y., which is a very pleasant 
place. In summer we can see the steamer 
Jamestown every day. Perhaps some of 
the girls and boys remember reading about 
the explosion of the steamer Chautauqua, 
which happened not far from here. In the 
summer a great many people from cities 
come here, and board through tho warm 
weather, and spend a part of the time on 
the lake. In the winter there is not much 
going on, except during court week, lam 
twelve years old, and go to school regularly, 
and like to, very much. 1 would like to ask 
a question. When was celery first brought 
in use for the table? And is it the same as 
the plant commonly called smellage, only 
cultivated ? 
Eva M« writes from Williamsburg, (Can.: 
I think so much of the boys’ and girls’ let¬ 
ters that you print, in the Rural, that I 
would like to tell you so. 1 live with pa and 
ma, aud my two brothers, on a uice prairie, 
close by a creek which has nice trees along 
its banks, and deer, rabbits and squirrels 
have a good hiding place among the trees. 
Sometimes the Indians come and camp in 
the woods, and shoot, the deer. One time a. 
big, tall Indian came here and camped, and 
had with him a good many ponies, and his 
wife and a little boy about as big as I am. 
Tho boy came to our house to get some salt f 
we all tried to please him, so as to hear him 
talk and see his little tricks ami pranks. 
I have some nice Black Spanish chickens 
that l think so much of. One night ma 
heard one of them squall in the coop; she 
ran out to see what was the matter. A mink 
had it by the neck and would not let go. 
Then ma got a stick and hit the mink and 
killed it. My little brother skinned it, and 
has its hide stretched to dry. I am only 
seven years old, but can help ma set the ta¬ 
ble, and carry chips and wood. 
Alta J. G., of Hamilton. Mo., says:—I 
thought I would write a piece for the Rural 
New Yorker. I am a little girl tw< 
years old. I go to school in the winter and 
summer. I like to see the little birds, and 
gather flowers, and work for my mother. 
My little schoolmates come to see my little 
sister and I. 1 like to read and write, play 
and sing. T love to go to Sunday-school, 
and sing praises to our Heavenly King. 1 
do not like to see little children play, on 
the Sabbath day, in Iho street, but I like to 
see thorn in the Sunday-school. I love to 
walkout in the summer, and hear the sweet 
murmur of the clear stream as it flows by. 
I lovo to read good books and papers. 
Ice Cream. Nellie M. F. of Floyd, N. 
Y., writes:—I shall he ten years oid the 
18th of April next. 1 have never been to 
school, because it is eo far. Wo have taken 
your paper for a number of years, and like 
it very much. I have a nice recipe for ico 
cream, which 1 will send you. Take of milk 
two quarts, sugar, one pound, and six eggs; 
dissolve the sugar In the milk; beat the 
eggs to a froth, and add ty thy whole; strain 
and bring to a scald, but be. careful not to 
burn it; I put, it in a tin pail and placed it 
ilia kettle of boiling water, stirring it con¬ 
stantly; when cool, flavor with Lubin’s ex¬ 
tract of vanilla, or lemon, then freeze. 
From Filmore Cu., Minn., James S. 
writes:—My Pa takes your valuable paper, 
the Rural. 1 like to read the little pieces, 
and especially the boys’ ami girls’ pjeccs. 
1 ant a boy of ten years old. This is the 
first letter 1 ever wrote. My Pa lives away 
out here in Minnesota, whore he lias to haul 
his wood ten miles. It is very cold weather 
here uow, and I have a span of mares, that 
Pa don’t work, to tend 1o. I have fifteen 
head of catt le to take a half a mile to water. 
They surveyed out one railroad through 
our land last fall, and a few days ago they 
surveyed another one through our laud, and 
wo don’t like it very well. 
Gettie E. O. writes from Cape Vincent, 
N. Y.: — “I like to read the Rural. Cape 
Vincent, is a very pleasant place (at least I 
think so). There are. between twelve and 
thirteen hundred inhabitants. It projects 
into tho St. Lawrence River. There are a 
great many moonlight excursions which 
? o from here down among the Thousand 
Blands. I go to Kingston twice a week in 
tho summer. I travel a great deal, and 
mostly alone. I would like to tell you more 
about our pleasant place. 
ILLUSTRATED REBUS.-No. 10. 
v*ET Answer in two weeks. 
• - *** - 
PUZZLE.-No. 2. 
To be arranged in shape of a Diamond!—A 
consonant, an article, a noted city, a vain terror, 
a period of life, a vowel. 
Answer In t wo weeks. 
■ N ♦♦♦- 
CROSS-WORD ENIGMA.-No. 3. 
My first Is in dog but not in eat. 
My second is in cloth but not in mat: 
M.y third is In oil but not in water, 
My fourth Is in bridle and also in halter. 
My whole is in every house. 
Geo. H inman Fuller. 
Answer In two weeks. 
-- 
PUZZLER ANSWERS.-Feb. 24. 
Illustrated REMUS No. 8 . — Hearts may agreo 
though heads differ. 
Miscellaneous Knioma. No. 3.— Whatsoever thy 
hand timlrih to do, do It with thy might. 
Dice a I'tTAHOXS No, 1. -1, Prussia; 2, Less; 3. Flea, 
1 , Crab; 5, Snail. 
