JULY “M 
9 
d 
Our mother's lost her youthfulness, 
Hof locks fir* • turning gray, 
A ml wrinkles t ike the place of smiles— 
She's fading every day. 
We gaze at her iu sorrow now, 
For though we’vo ne'er,boon told 
We can but feel the weary truth— 
Our mother's growing old. 
Our mother’s lost her youthfulness, 
Her eyes grow dim with tears, 
Yet still Within her heart there shines 
Some light of other years s 
For oft sha’ll speak in merry tones, 
ihnllc ns in youth she smiled, 
As o’er her heart some memory steals 
Of when she was a child. 
Our mother's lost her youthfulness, 
The. light step has grown slow, 
Tho graceful form lias learned to stoop. 
The bright check lost Its glow. 
Her weary hands have grown so thin, 
Her clear hand trembles no-w; 
•' Passing away,” iti sad, deep lines, 
Is traced upon her hrow. 
Our mother’s lost her youthfulness, 
Her smiles are just as kind, 
Her tones to us are soft as erst,— 
Where should we dourer tlncl ? 
But as we note the trembling tongue. 
And mark tho stooping form, 
A sad voleo whispers to our hearts— 
11 Yc cannot keep her long.” 
Our mother’s lost her youthfulness, 
Wo see it every day, 
And feel more drearily the,truth, 
8 ho soon must pass away. 
Ail! even now the “ boatman pale ” 
We fear Is hovering oiali; 
Wailing, with white sails all unfurled 
Ho will not heed our cry, 
Butgently hear the wearied form 
Into the phantom bark. 
3 lic will not fear—Cltiii,vr went before, 
The way will not be dark : 
And 3tifo beyond tho troubled stream, 
Her tired heart’s strife o’er, 
Our angel mother, glorified, 
Will grow old nevermore. 
-*♦.,- 
BEST FOB FARMERS’ WIVES. 
BY FLORENCE BURLEIGH. 
There is something wo all need and must 
have—I mean rest! Our hymn books are full 
of “Sweet Rest in Heaven;" “Rest Beyond 
the Grave;” “A Rest for Weary Pilgrims 
Found,” etc., etc., but I am in favor of having 
a little of it now, day by day, hour by hour, as 
tiaue llows on. By - md-by we will be so refrosh- 
edas to bo able to sing those hymns with the 
true spirit and understanding, as of something 
of which we have had a foretaste—not wearily 
drawl out the words, as If wo bad waited fill 
our lives for the fulfillment of the promise*, and 
had almost despaired of seeing the precious 
hope realized. We ought to allow ourselves 
time to cultivate the faculties with which wc 
have been endowed. This is a duty wo owe to 
the Giver of All Good ; for had He not intend¬ 
ed them for our use, Ho certainly would not 
have bestowed them upon us. Woman was 
created a finely organized being, as far as struct¬ 
ural constitution is concerned; and did Goo 
intend that all these minute organs, all this 
complicated and perfected machinery, shoo hi 
be worn out, or rusted out, before it had tier- 
formed half Its mission ? Our next duty Is to 
our family. Why wear one’s self out caring for 
children before they aro half able to care for 
themselves? Reserve you r strength now; there 
will be constant demands for it, but there is 
no earthly use in exhausting it in a few short 
months, or years, at best. 
Men call women the “ weaker vesselyes, 
and they ought to think of this when they see 
her daily and hourly weighed down by burdens 
of work, and do not remonstrate. Do a little 
less cooking or scrubbing, or stitching, and no¬ 
body will be the worse of it, but the whole fam¬ 
ily will bo the better for your rest. Each morn¬ 
ing, after getting the children cifT to school, per¬ 
form the most nectary labor, tidy up your 
room and person, and stop right there! Seat 
yourself iu the most comfortable cliair about 
tho house, and with paper or magazine prepare 
to refresh'both mind and body. A delicious 
sense of repose will steal over you, and you will 
enjoy it as much as does the desert traveler his 
draught, from the long-sought spring. Yon will 
naturally start, half frightened at the flight of 
time, but will feel so recreated as to “wonder 
if I be 1?" Preparations for dinner will then 
be comparatively easy, and you can welcome 
the family to tho well-spread board with a 
cheerful and cheering smile. After this, as 
you go about your tasks, if a half-lorgotton 
song of your girlhood's happy days bursts from 
your lips, do not hasten to repress it, and re¬ 
sume the worried, weary, careworn expression 
of countenance you have worn so long. Sing 
and laugh, too, as much as you can. This is 
the result of the morning's cessation from toil. 
You will feel better, and consequently look bet¬ 
ter, and John will begin to wonder “What in 
the world has come over Mary?” Don’t tell 
him; be can’t understand it; he isn’t a woman! 
But ask him, if ha h is not already done so. to 
buy you a sewing machine. He will doubtless 
tell you he caYmol afford it, he ba3 so much to 
pay out; you can hire your sewing done, if you 
have more than you can do yourself. AH right; 
no doubt it will put food into some hungry or¬ 
phan’s mouth. Hire the work done, and, mean¬ 
time, rest yourself. If you pay your seamstress 
in meat, lard, flour, or other products of the 
farm, which is often done, keep it strict account 
of all she gots, watch the market prices, and ut 
the end of three months, or six at furthest, con¬ 
vince him that these seeming little items, sold, 
would pay for the machine. 
“ Ah, me,” 1 fancy I hear you say, “ this is all 
very easy to write, and very fine to talk about, 
I ut not so easily done.” Try It and see. If 
you think you haven't time for useful reading 
or a healthful walk through tho woods, when 
the weather is fine, J answer lake time. I know 
it requires strength of will and energy to do 
thip, but, depend upon it, if you don’t take the 
good of the passing hour, you will nevor got 
any, for it comes not back again. An old gen¬ 
tleman onco said to me, “ 1 always manage to 
get a litt le pleasure out. of every day as it passes, 
for T find if we wait for future pleasures we are 
sure to be cheated out of them in the end." 
Now, my Rural sisters, let me entreat you to 
take a little respite every day. Forget that 
thero ever wa6 a lamb driven to the slaughter, 
and that the comparison has boon made be¬ 
tween this famous lamb and humble, unresist¬ 
ing humanity, for years past. Remember only 
that you are free-born American women, capa¬ 
ble oT taking care of yourselves, and bound not 
to be imposed upon, nor worked to death, nor 
harassed with care, till, when the time comes 
for you to “go hence,” there is hardly enough 
of you to justify the purchase of a coffin ! 
■--- 
BABY’S MISSION. 
BY ROSE GERANIUM. 
TO keep our hearts fresh and tender and sym¬ 
pathetic by unavoidable association. To en¬ 
dow ua with such patience and charity as shall 
not bo bounded by the domestic circle, but shall 
roach out into tho world as far as onr lives, 
brightening and sweetening and soothing. To 
give us more of joy as well as grief, of repose as 
well as anxiety. To widen and deepen the cur¬ 
rent of our lives. To help us toward Heaven, 
lest the little ones, in following, be lost. 
There is a feeling akin to pity which should 
go forth toward the child loss. Even though 
there are crosses, oh ! so heavy, and weariness 
of heart and brain, yet what picture of ease 
could buy away tho binl-notc which greets a 
mother at the dusk of morning -the litt le hands 
from which fall such soft caresses? 1 think 
if thero were to bo taken from me every earthly 
affection save one, I would say leave me the 
love of a little child. )t would he safer to trust, 
purer, more unselfish than any other, and, if I 
deserved it, more enduring. 
Mothers who yield their offspring up to tho 
care of hirelings arc tiielr own r< libers, steal¬ 
ing away such rays of crystalline enjoyment as 
can emanate from no other source. In after 
years, when the world, perchance, has proven 
bitter and disappointing, can they marvel If 
they look in vain for the messengers which 
fancy, true in her instincts, had equipped to 
bear peaco and heart-plenty and thanksgiving 
into the autumn of their lives? Mow naturally 
wo turn from the illusions of life to find recom¬ 
pense in our children ; and “ according to that 
we have sown wc shall surely reap,” It is easy 
to gaze upon tho repose of infancy and fondly 
foretell a life of usefulness or greatness; but 
who, from tho subtle fingers of grace and inno¬ 
cence, is willing to depict the future monster? 
Yot often, sad to tell! they are of tho unthink¬ 
ing mothers’ making. 
Oh! ye who pride in the sunny-haired dar¬ 
lings around your feet—to whom tlmir voices 
is as the gladdest, ripple on tho stream—watch 
well and prayerfully over their ways, remem¬ 
bering they arc your legacy to the world -your 
defenders or accusers In eternity. Keep them 
close to your hearts. Hove them much, arid 
win them from error by the look of pain, the 
oft-repeated caress and ceaseless wooing of 
kind voice. Bring them face to face with Jksuh 
in prayer—every hour in the day, if need be 
teaching them to regard 111m as one constantly 
present and deeply interested in alt that con¬ 
cerns them, nut as a far-olf and terrible Judge, 
bent only upon tlmir misery and punishment. 
Teach them to dread nor. so much Ilia anger as 
His sorrow for their waywardness. Encourage 
them In the Jeast act meant for good ; forgive 
them kindly, with kisses, when they repent of 
wrongs, showing them that you desire not the 
mortification of their feelings but the correc¬ 
tion of their natures. Do not seek to establish 
yourself in their hearts as a pattern of perfec¬ 
tion, for hy-and-hy they will find you out, -and 
woe betide you, hypocrite! 
Seek to stamp truths upon their lives more 
by your own living than by precept, and the 
time will conic when you will discover that 
motherhood, though ofttimes fraught with all 
that is deepest of care and privation, has its 
imperishable riches, and baby’s mission was to 
bring you a blessing. 
Be Hopeful.— Those who mourn over their 
petty aches and pains may learn a lesson in 
pluck and hope from a young man in Missis¬ 
sippi. In the war lie lost one leg, and recently 
tho other one was so crushed as to require am¬ 
putation. During the operation, he s&Jd to his 
friends" I thank God that I have two strong 
arms left to get a living with.” 
HA, when will Dolly’s birth-day be ? t never can re¬ 
member. 
I know I got her Christmas day: Is Christmas in De¬ 
cember? 
I want to Icoep ’count of her age, for, mother, don’t 
you know, 
I’m always going to keep this doll, and never let her 
go? 
I had to givo up Lucy Ann, to Belle, when she was 
sick, 
Ami then I lost my 1’rudle Jane, and that nice hoy 
doll, Dick. 
I lo had on Ilia best suit of clothes, that Cousin JENNy 
made, 
With little shiny buttons on, and trimmed so nice 
with braid. 
I think I left him on the bank, when 1 wont in tho 
brook. 
We waded round, and up, and down, and when 1 
went to look 
For Dioit, I hunted nil around, where any one could 
look, 
But I have nevor found him yot, nor that new pic¬ 
ture book. 
But now here’s Dolly, just as nice, and bigger than 
the rest.; 
With such red checks, and curly hair, and Just ns 
nicely dressed. 
lint then, I’d like to have Dick, too; how nice they'd 
look together I 
I mean to hunt for him again, when it comes pleas¬ 
ant weather. 
--• 
THE WIND'S FROLIC. 
BY MRS. GEORGE BARTLETT. 
“ On, dear, now that horrid wind !” exclaim¬ 
ed little Pinky, as a gust took Off her hat and 
sent it whirling down tho gravel walk. Bob 
and Tom were quickly after it, and a pretty good 
chase indeed they had before they caught, it 
and brougdt it back. 
“ Now, I don’t soo Avlmt tho wind wanta to 
blow for, at all,” said Pinky. 
“Well, the wind, beside being so frolicsome 
aa to blow off little girls’ lists, is a very useful 
agent,” said A rthur, who, like a good brother, 
always tried to instruct his younger brothers 
and sisters.' 
“Yes, of course it is,” said little Bob; “how 
could wo fly our kites now if there wasn't any 
wind ?” 
“ But, BOB, what, good do you really suppose 
the wind docs?” asked Arthur. 
“ I don’t know.” 
“Tom knows, I’m sure, now that he goes to 
tho grammar school.” 
“ Yes, of course; the wind is made to blow 
the ships across tho ocean. Capt. Tanner told 
mo where Micro warn’t, no wind, the ships 
couldn't go at all. I don’t know as there is any 
other good it does.” 
“Did you ever notice tho way the wind blows 
In March?” asked Arthur. 
“ Why, yes ; that's kite time," said Bob. 
“Well, did you ever notice tho frozen, aleepy- 
looking trees ? Tho sun comes out warm and 
bright, but still tho trees and all flic hushes aro 
sound asleep, and appear to have forgotten all 
about leaves or anything of the sort. Then up 
comes tlio wind, with a great rush and rustle, 
as though he had a grout deal of work on hand, 
and directly ho gives tho old elm a good rousing 
shake, and says, 4 Come, come old fellow, waku 
yourself up; don’t you know the spring has 
come, and it’s time your sap was beginning to 
stir?’ Then round it whirls, and bangs away at 
the great oak ; then, with a whistle and a rush, 
off It goes to thoapple trees down in the orchard, 
and a good shaking they get; and the sap in 
them, too, gets i he first start, and commences 
slmvly to rise up In the trunk, toward the 
branches. 
“But the wind is off, and is whisking now 
through whole rows of currant bushes, and in 
his wild frolic, ho gives them such a rousing 
that they wake up quickly enough, all surprised 
to find tho spring lias come, and that it is high 
time for them to begin to think.oT getting out 
their leaves. A great deal, to be -.ure, the wind 
lias to do ; with so many, many trees to wake 
up, starting the sap to rise, and circulate.” 
“Well, after tho trees huvo come out, why 
don’t the wind shut up ?" asked Bob, 
“Why, the ships,” said Pinky. 
“ Yes, the ships would be apt to be in tho 
lurch without the wind," said Arthur; “but 
really, if there was no such thing as wind, i fear 
there would he no ships; indeed, we ourselves 
should not he alive to need ships, or anything 
else." 
“Not alive! Why, how docs the wind keep 
us alive?” asked Bon. 
“ Now, Bob, don’t you see that iu order for us 
to live, wo must ha ve food and drink; and don’t 
you see that t he little streams that come run¬ 
ning down from the mountains must be fed 
with rain? And without rain, or the water 
from the streams, the grain could not grow 
for our food ; so it all works together. But now 
tell me, where does the rain come from?” 
“Oh, I know that,” said Tom; “it rises by 
evaporation from tho large bodies of waterand 
makes clouds, and then it rains down.” 
“Well, Tom, suppose there was really no such 
thing as wind ; the great, heavy clouds would 
rise and gather, and down they would be apt to 
fall again, while the rivers would dry up and 
tho earth become parched and slit i veiled; noth¬ 
ing could grow; so neither food nor drink could 
wc have, and with such u state of things, not 
very long could wo live. But (she good, strong 
wind keeps on, blowing first Ohe way and then 
tho other, sending the clouds in one direction 
and then in another, t.o fall in refreshing rain. 
Then, beside this, keeping up a motion in tho 
atmosphere, It drives off noxious gases, and 
keeps the air pure and healthy." 
“Welt, l don’t like it when it blows and both¬ 
ers anil roars so, all night," said Pinky. 
“Hi, hi!" cried Bob, as a little bit of a breeze 
that just seemed to have been listening to this 
talk, lifted up bis cap a very trille, as though it 
would say “ by your leave;’’ but another whiff 
was all ready for the fun, and quick as a wiulc 
BOb’S cap was over so far off, whirling and danc¬ 
ing in gay stylo. And now Bob and Tom and 
the wind are racing together, and a high old 
time of it they had before the cap was caught. 
--•-*-*- 
TniN party (to street urchin)“ Boy what 
do you suppose that dog is following me for?” 
Tho youngster casts a knowing look at him, 
and readily replies:—“ Guess ho takes you for 
a bone!” 
itlu' |litHler. 
PROBLEM.—No. 3. 
From a point within a triangle, equally dis¬ 
tant from all of ils angles, perpendiculars aro 
drawn to the throe sides, which measure re¬ 
spectively 15, 8 and 10 rods. Required, the sides 
of the triangle. 
E P=10 rods; F P=8 rods; D 1 J =3 rods. 
%$?" Answer in two weeks. b. f. b. 
-- 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA.—No. 3. 
I am composed of 81 letters: 
My 16,11,17 Is a Spanish title. 
My 3,10, 7, 4, 9 is a department of Government. 
My 20, 8, 8 is a verb denoting motion. 
My 12, 15, 21 is a character in one of Dickens’ 
novels. 
My 5,18, 21,20, 8 is a fraction. 
My 2, II), 1), 8 Is the name of a college. 
My i), 2, a, 21, 15,11 is the name of a noted author. 
My 12. it, 13, 1, 10 Is the platform of every sect. 
My 19, 14, 13 Is that in which we all live and 
Without which we can do nothing. 
My whole aro the last svords of a farewell song. 
£A/" Answer in two weeks. Sampi. 
W0BD-PUZZLE.—No. 2. 
I am tho name of an honorable occupation 
and contain nine letters. 1 also contain a piece 
Of money, a two-wheeled vehicle, an instru¬ 
ment used in writing, u tenant, a covering for 
the head, a destructive animal, a vessel, a fish, 
a very slow gait, a feline animal, one of the 
members of a firm, an insect, a covering for a 
vehicle, a sport, a verb, an animal that re¬ 
sembles man, a railroad carriage, and the month 
of a volcano. What am 1 ? 
Walter W. R. Fisher. 
iiif" Answer In two weeks. 
-»>♦ 
CROSS-WORD ENIGMA.—No. 1. 
My first is in stone but not In rock, 
My second is in goose but not in hawk ; 
My third is in fib but not in lie. 
My fourth is in wheat but not in rye ; 
My fifth is iu city but not in farm, 
My sixth is in cool but not In warm ; 
My seventh is In gobbler but not in hen, 
My whole is an article used by men. 
S2?“ Answer In two weeks. b. c. d. 
-w- 
CONUNDRUM.-No. 2. 
In my first my second sat, 
My third and fourth guess if you’re able; 
And now you ought to guess my whole, 
It lies before you on the table. 
Answer in two weeks. 
--- 
PUZZLER ANSWERS.-July 12. 
Problem No. 2.— 
t 42.231734 rods. 
J 33.916884 “ 
{ 18.546861 “ 
Miscellaneous Enigma No. 2.— Union Pa¬ 
cific Railroad. 
Word-Puzzle No. 1.—Shipwreck. 
