.'aides’ ^ort-jl-olio. 
THE UNWISE CHOICE. 
Two young men. when I was poor, 
Came and stood at my open door; 
One said to me. " I hare gold to give,’’ 
And one, •* 1 wUl love you while I live!” 
My sight was dazzled; woe to the day ! 
And 1 sent the poor young man away; 
Sent him away, ( knew not where, 
And my heart went with him unaware. 
He did not give me uny sighs. 
But he left his picture in my eyes; 
And in my eyes it has always been— 
I hare no heart to keep It in. 
Beside the lane with hedges sweet, 
Where we parted, never more to meet, 
He pulled a flower of love's own hue. 
And whore it had been came out two. 
And in the grass, where he stood for years, 
The dews of the morning stood like tears. 
Still smiles the house where 1 was born— 
Among Its fields of wheat and corn. 
V lieut and corn that strangers bind ; 
I reaped as I sowed, andl sowed to th’ wind, 
As one who feels the truth break through 
His dreatu, and knows his dream untrue. 
I live where splendors shine, and sigh 
For the peace that splendors cannot buy ; 
Sigh tor the day I was rich, tho' poor— 
And saw the young man at my door! 
APPLE BLOSSOMS. 
The trees are in their glory. A few with 
their pink buds, others white as snow, and 
still others glowing as if the setting sun was 
glancing at them. The air is vocal with the 
busy insects, and perfumed with the flowers. 
The bob-o-link flashes like a flame through 
the blossoms, and sings bis matchless song. 
Beautiful season ! Will it not tarry a little 
for our refreshment ? 
At this moment a strong breeze sweeps 
over us; it lifts the hat, it floats the garments, 
and rustles in the trees, and—ho I the myriad 
blossom flakes float far and wide. They 
seem to answer—“Only for a day,” “only 
for a day.” 
And this is the parable they teacli:—Mil¬ 
lions of them bud and come slowly forth in 
perfect flower. Then they are most beautiful. 
People say, “ Oh, what a fruitage we shall 
have!” But they mistake a little. Presently 
the blossoms fall. Numbers of them are false 
ones, or have a blight upon them, and so 
leave no germ of fruit. Many others promise 
much. These the May storms harden, the 
sweet June days develop, the mid-summer 
sun gives them growth, and the autumn days 
ripeness. 
But all the spring promises are not found 
for autumn ripeness. All through the sum¬ 
mer months, under the trees, there is fallen 
fruit. Some fall because stung by insects, 
others through the rudeness of the winds, 
and others because they are prematurely 
ripe. But many more have a healthful 
growth, and in the autumn seem, with their 
amber and russet, and gold and crimson, 
hardly less beautiful than the blossoms,— 
and more worthy than they, because they 
have been tried, and are proved by thus en¬ 
riching the good harvester. 
This, then, is life! How beautiful it seems 
in its first bloom! TIow rich with anticipa¬ 
tion I How a thousand pleasures are, at this 
season of life, like-bird melody and fragrance 
in the air,—like exquisite shadings of color 
in sky and foliage and flowers. And this 
is well—but may we also hope and strive 
for the perfect fruitage beyond the bloom. 
OLD LADIES' FLOWERS. 
It has been our good fortune all through 
they do not make us call to mind those de¬ 
lightful passages of our older poets that 
made our imaginations paint scenes of sim¬ 
ple, rural, floral beauty and loveliness that 
no artistic pencil can realize ; but these “ old 
ladies’ flowers," or “ flowers of the poets,” 
often unveil to us some lovely picture or 
scene that long since, in our earlier readings, 
we had painted in the chambers of our 
heart, and from which memory, thus assist¬ 
ed, removes a pile of modern rubbish that 
had well nigh buried it in oblivion. 
Hence it is that while we would not banish 
our new friends from our gardens, we would 
still put in a plea for the retaining, wcmight 
say, indeed, the restoration of the older ones. 
Their beauty is as great and tbeircultivation 
as easy as that of any new comers, and their 
associations far more delightful, for they call 
to remembrance our early days, our child¬ 
hood homes, and the floral loves of our 
mothers. 
We therefore recommend our garden-lov¬ 
ing readers to appropriate at least one flower¬ 
bed iu their garden to these flowers, for we 
feel assured that they will find them possess¬ 
ed of an interest and charm peculiarly their 
own, which their more showy or more mod¬ 
ern rivals do not possess.— Harper'x Bazar. 
JENNY LIND AND THE BIRDS. 
I remember hearing the stage driver’s 
story of Jenny Lind when she was riding in 
the country. A bird of brilliant plumage 
perched on a tree near by as they drove 
slowly along, and trilled out. such a compli¬ 
cation of sweet notes us perfectly astonished 
her. The coach stopped, and reaching out, 
she gave one of her finest roulades. The 
beautiful bird arched his head on one side, 
and listened deferentially; then, as if deter¬ 
mined to excel his famous rival, raised his 
, graceful throat, and sang a song of rippling 
| melody that made Jenny rapturously clap 
her hands in ecstacy, and quickly, as though 
she was before a severely critical audience in 
Castle Garden, delivered gome Tyrolean 
mountain strains that set. the echoes flying. 
Whereupon the little birdie took it, up, and 
sang and trilled, till .Jenny, in happy delight, 
acknowledged that the pretty woodland 
warbler decidedly ont-carrolled the great 
Swedish nightingale .—Our Dumb Animalx. 
-- 
BEAUTY AND DRESS. 
A clever writer says: — “ Providence 
meant women to make the world beautiful 
us much ns flowers and butterflies, and there 
is no sin iu tasteful dress, but only in devot¬ 
ing to it too much money or too much time.” 
This is a most sensible view, and is the true 
medium between the one extreme of straight 
and rigid simplicity and the devotion of the 
best energies of a lifetime to vanity and fri¬ 
volity. But, after all, what is this rage for 
dress but an effort after the beautiful ? The 
reas«i why the beautiful is not always the 
result, is because so many women are ignor¬ 
ant or merely imitative. They have no 
sense of fitness. The short wear what be¬ 
longs to the tall, and brunettes sacrifice their 
natural beauty to look like blondes, and well 
they may, for blondes seem generally pref¬ 
erable. 
-- 
GIRLS' DRESSES. 
It is an established rule, now, that dresses 
for girls should be made high iu the neck ; 
even party dresses of silk or muslin are no 
exceptions, the special air of gayety and fes¬ 
tivity being given to them by bright trim¬ 
mings, or fancy overdresses. This, we hope, 
will provu a long custom instead of a short 
“NO: YOU CAN’T HAVE ANY.” 
*• Go away, nau«lit.y dog, 
Go away, go away! 
B'or something to eat 
You come every day.” 
" la that my little boy.” Bald Author's mamma, 
" That refuses a raonni) of supper to share? 
Suppose that mamma to AKTiJl’R should say, 
‘Go away naughty boy, go away, go away !’ 
'* Dear Fido! just see now, how lovi.sg lie looks, 
How he wuggles his tall, and piitlontlv waits; 
Then he puts up Ills paws, aa If he would say, 
' Just one little bit for poor Fido to-day.’ ” 
THE NECKLACE. 
BY A GIRL UNDER TWELVE YEARS OF AGE. 
One day, little Ella May came running 
home from school, with the news that Nei.- 
lose it,” said one of the boys; “ give it to 
me, and l will take care of it ” So Ella 
unclasped it and gave it to him. When she 
had redeemed it, Nellie clasped it for her. 
When Ella got home that night, her 
mother asked her if she Inn. lost the necklace. 
“ Oli, no," said Ella, reaching her hand up 
to her neck for it. Biu it was gone, and 
poor Ella did not know what to do. Her 
mamma asked her if she had taken it off, and 
when she said she had her mamma said : 
“ Oh, Elia, I did not think you would have 
done it.” “ Please forgive me,” sobbed Ella, 
“ and I’ll never disobey you again. I shall 
look everywhere for it.” Ella’s mamma 
forgave her freely when she saw how sorry 
Ella felt. Ella looked a long time for the 
necklace, but in vain—she could not find it. 
One day Nellie and Ella were walking 
from school together when Nellie saw 
something bright lying by tbc side of the 
road. She ran to see wliat it was. When 
^RTErTTIR J^TSTJD FIDO. 
vanity, practically inculcates modesty, and 
does much to get rid of the false idea that use 
i e to be surrounded by floral novelties ol fashion; for, in this climate especially, where 
the choicest beauty; yet we often find our- the changes are go sudden and so severe, it. is 
selves turning with fond delight and pleas- criminal to expose the chest and extremities 
uie to the older, but now in too many cases ( ,f a young child to the quick variations of 
the neglected, and, we might say, by some beat and cold; and even iu a warm climate 
despised, inhabitants of our gardens. We ft thin covering for the neck is not objection- 
have a fondness and admiration for many of able—is, in fact, desirable, as it discourages 
t e older annuals and hardy perennials, and vanity, practically inculcates modesty, and 
aie old fogyish enough to think I hat they are does much to get rid of the false idea that use 
equal in beauty, it not more beautiful, than j 8 not as desirable an element in the dress of 
many vaunted plants of more recent intro- womau ^ in the dress ofmaD . 
duction. Morning-glories, nasturtiums, rock- _ +++ _ 
et larkspurs, gillyflowers, asters, balsams, TTT’MQ TWR T atvtpcj 
pansies, carnations, columbines. Canterbury l iADlLB, 
bells, sweet-williams, cowslips, auriculas, Several prominent Iowa papers have 
polyanthuses, peonies, flowers-de-luce, wall- come out strong for woman suffrage 
er^’lv. a ,!?. di ,' S "““T 19 °" ,Cr a °"'- Bevekty.etoht women are now regnlavlj 
tin,. a wl Ity ladies ot the past genera- orthtined preachers in the Unitotl States, 
tion, aie certainly more beautiful and inlrin- v lcn , . , • 
sically of more value than much of the tie- b ' en a “‘’ « 
ceptively advertised trash which too ohm. piaCt t e at the bar at Columbia, N. H., and 
encumbers our garden,‘ol the present time /“««« of tbc Peace. 
Although we do not deny that verbenas, Now tlie t,me fr ? r the who love tc 
petunias, coleuses, dahlias, bedding geiani- economize t0 eva,nine their last summer’? 
uk Smith was going to have a party, and 
she was invited. “ Now mamma,” she said, 
“please let me go, for Nellie said they 
were going to have a splendid time. Her 
mamma smiled a little at her little girl’s en 
tliusiasui, and Ella, thinking she was going 
to say no, began:—“Now, don’t say no.” 
Her mamma Said:—“ 1 did not mean to refuse 
to let you go; so you can go and get your 
white dress and blue sash, as quick as you 
have a mind to.” Ella ran off, and soon 
returned vvitli the things. She was soon 
dressed, and was having her sash tied, when 
her mamma said:—“ Ella, l have a little 
gold necklace, I have had since I was a lit¬ 
tle girl; I would lend it to you, if 1 thought 
you would not take it off.” Ella promised 
she would not take it off, and her mother, 
t hinking she would keep her promise, turned 
to her bureau, opened one of the drawers, 
and took from it the necklace, and clasped 
it around her little girl’s neck. Ella thank¬ 
ed her, and put on her things, kissed her 
mamma good-by, and started for Nellie 
Smith’s. She rang the bell, and Nellie 
is not as desirable an element in the dress of came to the door. When she saw who it 
woman as in the dress of man. 
-♦-*-*- 
ITEMS FOR LADIES, 
Several prominent Iowa papers have 
come out strong for woman suffrage. 
Seventy-eight women are now regularly 
ordained preachers in the United States. 
Mrs. Clara Nash has been admitted to 
practice at the bar at Columbia, N. H., and 
has been appointed Justice of the Peace. 
Now is the time for the Indies who love to 
economize to examine their last summer’s 
urns, and a multitude of similar flowers to warJrobe ’ an<1 S,!C inhere is anything which 
be found in the bewildering catalogues of may be ,nade over for 8 P rill S wear, 
the flutists of the present day, have many ^ think it is the most beautiful and Inl¬ 
and distinctive beauties, yet we feel that the ma,ie Hiing in tlie world, so to mingle gravity 
present fashion of discarding the old favor- with pleasure that the one may not sink into 
ites is a species of ungrateful floral sacri- melancholy, nor the other rise up into wan- 
lege. The new-comers, moreover, are not tonness .—Pliny. 
embalmed, as many of the older ones are in The Philadelphia Press is advocating a 
the poesy of some of the finest poets of our “ domestic option ” bill, under the provisions 
anguage. These have a sweet fragrance of which no man should be allowed to buy 
w ich does not belong to modern favorites; a glass of ale, or wine, or whisky, without 
and, however much the last may delight us, presenting a written permit from his wife. 
was, she said:—•“ Why, Ella, i3 that you ? ( 
I thought you were never coming.” “ But, i 
you see, I am here,” said Ella, pleasantly. 
Nellie took Ella up to her own little 
room to take off her things. When Nellie 
saw i In- necklace, she saicl:—“ Is that yours, 
Ella V” “ No, it is my mamma’s,” she an¬ 
swered; “she said I might wear it, if I 
would not take it off.” “ But, hurry up,” 
exclaimed Nellie ; “ we’ll never get down 
stairs, if we don’t.” So they went arm in 
arm down the wide staircase into the parlor. 
After the greetings were over, some one 
proposed a game of forfeits. As every one 
agreed to it, they began to play. Ella had 
given two or three forfeits, and was saying 
that that was all the forfeits she would have 
to give, when some one said :— “ Ella, it is 
your turn to play,” and in a minute another 
forfeit was needed. “ But,” said Ella, “ I 
haven't anything to give as a forfeit, so you 
must do without.” “ Oh, but we can’t; you 
must give us your necklace, if you haven’t 
anything else,” said one of them. “ My 
mamma told me not to take it off, or I might 
lose it,” said she. “ Just as though we would 
she had picked it up site found it to be the | 
necklace Ella Imd worn the night of the I 
party. Knowing how sorry Ella felt be¬ 
cause site had lost it, she called out,” Ella! 
Ella! come here; J have found the neck¬ 
lace you lost.” Ella ran to her and took it 
Out of Nellie’s baud. “ Yes, that is it, and 
it isn’t hurt a bit,” she said, with eyes spark¬ 
ling with delight. 
I need not say that Ella’s mamma was 
very glad that Nellie had found the neck¬ 
lace, for it had been given to her by an uncle 
who had soon after sailed for India, and had 
never since been heard of. When Ella was 
older her mamma gave Iter the necklace as 
her own. It proved a good lesson for her, 
for she never after disobeyed her mamma. 
E. M. E. 
-- 
LETTERS FROM BOYS AND GIRLS. 
VVhnt Nellie Hny» iibont C'liieketiH, At'. 
Dear Mr. Editor: —I was much pleased 
with the picture of Brahma hens in your 
paper. We have eight Brahma hens that I 
think are worth writing about. We brought 
iu nine eggs last Sunday, and I thought tiiey 
were like old Grimes’ lien that laid more 
eggs on Sunday than any day. We feed 
them boiled pumpkins, mixed with corn 
meal and pepper. We have one cow ; she is 
very tame and gentle; we feed her hay, 
bran and carrots. She is white, with little 
black spots on her. 1 don’t think anybody 
who reads the Rural has a better one. 1 
would like to ask why a spotted cow is not 
called dappled, as well as a horse. I am 
eight years old, and I live in a little village 
and like to read all the little girls write in 
the Rural—Nellie M., BrUol. 
Viola’s Recipes tor Cake. 
Dear Mr. Editor:—I have been read¬ 
ing the girls' loners in your paper for a long 
flowers. The woods are not far from our 
house, so 1 spend a good slum: of my time 
there—in the fall, especially, when there are 
many nuts to be gathered. This is the first 
time I ever undertook to write a piece for a 
paper, so please correct all mistakes. Per¬ 
haps some of the girls would like 1113 ’ recipes 
for cakes. 
Jelly < 'uke. — Break two eggs in a teacup, 
fill it, up with sour cream; one cup of sugar; 
a little soda; don’t mix it hard. This you 
may bake in three round tins. 
White Mountain Cake. — One cup butter, 
two cups white sugar, four eggs, three and 
a-lialt cups flour, two-thirds of a cup sour 
milk; season with the extract of lemon. 
These cakes I think are delicious. Good 
bye.— Viola Gay, Warsaw, N. Y. 
Letter from 11 Sonelble QJrl. 
Dear Friend Editor: —I am a little girl, 
twelve years old, and lean make nice bis¬ 
cuit aud calto, and get a meal of victuals as 
quick as any of the girls. Sopie girls think 
it is a disgrace to work, or to know how to, 
hut. L don’t. I mean to learn how to do all 
kinds ol work, and do it. well. I am a limn¬ 
ers daughter, and can do many things about 
the house and farm, as well as the next one. 
I fear this will take too much space,sol will 
close.—C. W., Troy. 
ABOUT PUZZLES. 
Many popular puzzles depend on the am¬ 
biguity or double meaning of words and 
phrases. Thus we are told there was a man 
who had six children, and had never seen one 
of them. We are. led to suppose that none of 
the children had ever been beheld by their 
parent; but the words may meun equally as 
well that one of them hud been born while 
the man was on a journey, and he had, con¬ 
sequently never seen that one. Another 
puzzle is this :—There was a poor blind beg¬ 
gar who had a brother, the brother died, hut 
the man who died had no brother. We are 
apt to think the beggar was a man; but 
when we think that, the beggar might be a 
girl, the answer becomes quite plain. 
We are told of two men who met each 
other at an inn, and greeted each other af¬ 
fectionately. The hotel keeper inquired of 
one how he was related to the other, who 
replied: 
“ Hrother and sister have I none, 
Yet this man’s father was my father’s son.” 
This is a perfectly plain statement, and 
yet there are few whose minds are clear 
enough to see at once that this jingle of 
words is only a round about way of saying 
that this man was the speaker’s son. 
•- ■+■*■+ - 
BE A MAN. 
Foolish spending is the father of poverty. 
Do not be ashamed of hard work. Work 
for the best salaries or wages you can get, 
but work for half price rather than be idle. 
Be your own master, and do not let society 
or fashion swallow up your Individuality— 
hat, coat and hoots. l)o not eat up or wear 
out all that you earn. Compel your selfish 
body to spare something for profits saved. 
Be stingy to your own appetite, but merciful 
to other’s necessities. Help others, and ask 
no help for yourself. See that you are proud. 
Let your pride be of the right kind. Be too 
proud to be lazy ; too proud to give up with¬ 
out conquering every difficulty; too proud 
to wear a coat you cannot ufford to buy; 
too proud to be iu company Lluil you cannot 
keep up with in expenses; too proud to lie, 
or steal, or cheat; too proud to he stingy. 
-■»-«.-*-- 
A PLAN IN LIFE. 
“ What is your plan in life, Neddie?” I 
asked a small boy, turning from his big 
brothers, who wore talking aliout theirs, to 
which lie and I bad beeu listening. “ What 
is yours, Neddie?” 
“ I am not big enough fora plan yet,” said 
Neddie, “ but I have a purpose.” 
“That is good; it is not everyone who 
has a purpose. What is your purpose, 
j Neddie?” 
“ To grow up a good boy, so as to be a 
. good man like my father,” said Neddie. 
And by the way lie said it, it was plain he 
meant it. His father was a noble Cl n isi iu» 
” man; and Neddie could not do better tlisni 
L follow in ids steps. A hoy with such a pur- 
t pose will not fail of Ids mark. 
i *** 
HORACE MANN. 
Horace Mann was once seated in an om¬ 
nibus with a young man who coolly took 
out a cigar, lit a match, and put U10 cigar in 
his mouth. Mr. Mann stopped the couch 
and insisted that the young man should be 
time, and I now attempt to write one myself ejected for disobeying the rules. He was 
—but I find It a great deal easier to read one not pacified until the owner ot Hie cigar 
than it is to write one. I live in the country, touched the indignant reformers hand with 
My father keeps a dairy; I have often the uncharted end, in proof that the cigar 
milked nine cows. I can do all kinds of had never been lighted ; and Mr. Mann, loth 
housework. I love the country — tbc pure to lose an opportunity to impress a moral 
air, the wide fields—and I like plenty of truth upon the wayward youth, turned 
time to roam over them. In the spring around and lectured him severely upon the 
time 1 go into the woods and gather wild vice of deception. 
