©ORE’S RURAL HEW-YOB 
Jfadtqs' |Jortfolio. 
AN ANSWER. 
BY HOSE GERANIUM. 
It is sweet to abide, under wishes like thine, 
To be held in thy raernory’s thrall,— 
And to find as I fathom it, line upon line. 
That pain is but pain, utter all. 
bometiraes, looking back o’er a troublesome way, 
Where we blindly groped out from the mark. 
It Is Joy to remember, as often we may, 
Tha t friends were linear lu the dark. 
And hands that were willing and hearts that wore 
true 
Save pressed back the thorns from the vino, 
That only the fragrance enshrined in the dew 
And only the roses were mine. 
It is sweet to abide under wishes like thine, 
To repose in the heart of a friend. 
And to catch, faintly gleaming, the glories that 
shine 
O’er the river that flows at the end. 
- . 
“COMPLETING AN EDUCATION.” 
Emma CL “fools bad,” she says, “because 
other girls have opportunity to complete their 
education by continuous study,” while she is 
compelled to teach or do other work in order 
to get the means to attend school. Hut she 
says she la “ courageous. 1 ' Why should she 
“feel bad?" The education she is gel ting as a 
teacher will bo of far more value to her than 
any she can obtain by rushing through any 
school and graduating. She lias opportunity 
to apply, iu practice, what she learns. Then, 
again! Wlmt un absurd Idea it is that “other 
girls have opportunity to com )ieU their educa¬ 
tion.” Education is never “ completed." This 
loose kind of talk and looser Idea ought, to be 
driven out of all girls' minds. It is vicious in 
its influence and effects. Education is ncvei 
complete; and it matters little in what situa¬ 
tion one is placed so that, ho or she remembers 
that every experience, word, act, is a part of 
the education; and if these experiences, words 
and acts bear upon the vocation chosen or the 
business one is compelled to pursue, the time 
and effort thus employed are not lost; nor is the 
education retarded. These schools which grad¬ 
uate pupils in a given time, and call their edu¬ 
cation “complete” after they havo pursued 
certain studies, ought to bo written down os 
humbug, as they are. Emma G. had a great deal 
better get her education aS a teacher than en¬ 
ter one of them 1 
THE INCAPABLES. 
Miss Emii.y Pa mum,, in her recent address 
to the working-women in New York, who gave 
her such a hearty and enthusiastic reception, 
stated that in her Own land there were over two 
and a half millions of women who depended on 
their own work for a support. We have not 
statistics to show how many women in our 
country are thus plodding for daily broad; but 
we need only to look about its to be convinced 
that the army Is a vast one. It Is not for them¬ 
selves alone that they toil. Often little hands 
are dinging to them, and reaching out toward 
them for daily food. Often t he tottering steps 
of uge or iaflrmity look to them as the sole 
support. Many have come down from a com¬ 
fortable competence, and a few even from af¬ 
fluence. When a father has lived up to hla in¬ 
come all his life, his death often plunges his 
family into the deepest pecuniary distress. The 
bjjs, if they have avcrngo energy, will And a 
hundred doors open to them ; but the helpless 
lady daughters—what are they to do? Teaching 
and sewing are the main avenues open to thorn, 
and both branches aro crowded to overflow¬ 
ing. An advertisement for a teacher recently 
brought 70 applicants. 
Now, it is partly woman’s fault that so few 
want her work. The experiment was tried 
quite extensively a few yoars since of introduc¬ 
ing her into the compositor’s room. But most 
of the papers were glad to go back to the old 
system again. The few who ma.de good type 
setters w mid succeed iu almost any branch of 
effort they chose to put their hand to. They 
were efficient anil thorough. A want of thor¬ 
oughness is the great source of misery among 
worklng-worman. It is this that (ills the ranks 
of the groat army of lncapables. A thin layer 
of accomplishments in our school girls covers 
avast amount of mis-informatlon and slipshod 
learning. Then, though a girl has not been 
trained to work, if Bhe has close mental disci¬ 
pline. she will stand a fair chance to take care 
of herself comfortably if loft to her own re¬ 
sources. 
Who has not seen an energetic Yankee school 
ma'am, all her life conversant with books rather 
than with household matters, develop into a 
first class farmer’s wife? 1 have, and have 
eaten of their ‘‘gilt-edged butter" and snow- 
wlntc bread, and never desire to see better. Ho 
the thorough-disciplined girl can takeupallne 
of effort quite foreign to her early training and 
pursue It successfully. 
Now we. who have the care of the little twigs 
just taking their life bent, should aim to make 
them thorough in allthings. Let us not grudge 
the time it takes to fully explain a matter. 
Show just how the bread is made, the cake 
mixed, the garment fitted together. These are 
little things, but they help to set the habit. Fol¬ 
low up the teachings faithfully. Never fear 
but a bright child will ask you questions enough 
to draw you out. And remomber, by just these 
trifles you are helping your child to take care 
of herself in future yoars, if a turn of the wheel 
of fortune makes it needful. In any case, you 
will add largely to her future happiness and 
usefulness. ,j, E . m’c. 
-♦ ♦ ♦ ■ 
ABOUT FARMERS’ HOMES. 
A GRE AT deal is said and written about farm¬ 
ers’ homes; how to make them attractive, and 
how to keep the boys on the farm. Little of it 
proves seed sown upon good ground, important 
a subject as it is. It needs experience in this 
as iu other matters to make correct decisions 
as to the elements necessary in a farmer’s home 
and life to make them attractive to youth. 
Having just passed the meridian between youth 
and manhood, I think myself qualified to name 
some of the true elements of success in this line. 
In the first place, young boys should not be 
overworked, for nothing will sooner, or more 
certainly, alienate them from homo and the 
farm. Believing both to l)c only places of toil 
and confinement, they seek at their oarlloAt op¬ 
portunity for some more congenial sphere of 
labor, ami leave the farm and home to degen¬ 
erate. Boys should have time fur recreation, 
and when they work, such work as will interest 
them. They should be allowed full advantage 
of all school privileges, with means for study, 
ami willing assistance at home. Books, papers, 
&e., of a proper — not all of a serious—character 
should be provided, and a taste for study and 
reading thus early Inculcated, engaging their 
minds, and keeping them closed to the glitter¬ 
ing Illusions of the world. The house should 
not be made a prison, but a place of unlimited 
freedom In proper games and amusements, with 
the flash of laughing eyes to light its rooms, the 
coats of affection to warm its hearth, mirth and 
wit to cheer the occupants. At the table, in¬ 
stead of grim silence lot tlio thoughts have vent; 
converse upon matters of general, personal or 
Public interest; diseuaB the topics of the day. 
and the affairs of the farm. Keep the house and 
grounds, after thoy are tastefully laid out, In 
thorough repair; let order and neatness prevail 
in both, and keep the daily, monthly and year¬ 
ly work systematically arranged and performed. 
Educate the children In religious as well as sec¬ 
ular affairs, and seek to instil a habit of regular 
attendance upon divine services. .Solicit and 
engago the fullest confidence in all mattora, 
either of little ur great Importance. Preserve 
unity in family relations, lotting no bud exam¬ 
ple of the parent meet the eyes of the children, 
and show a discreet liberality of opinion in all 
matters. The girls may do n good deal towards 
keeping the boys at homo, for if they try to 
make the in-door affairs Interesting, pleasant 
and agreeable— -which Is the natural sphere of 
their sox—the boys will appreciate their efforts 
and be more contented at homo. Omega. 
--*-*-•- 
NO, “IT CAN'T BE DONE.” 
I have been a constant reader of the Rural 
for eighteen years, and have often wished to 
express my approbation or disapprobation (as 
the case might be) of the subjects presented in 
that most excellent department of your paper, 
the " Ladles' Port-Folio,” 1 have been watch¬ 
ing with much Interest thu controversy on the 
work that, can, or cannot, be accomplished by 
farmers’ wives; and as I am a farmer's wife, I 
think 1 can Judge a. little what may Im accom¬ 
plished. by one occupying that position. 
Although 1 flatt er myself my bump of calcu¬ 
lation Is well developed, and my ouoe little ones 
arc all large enough to get out their “ flstlos" 
themselves, 1 still often find night overtakes 
me with many duties which 1 had laid out for 
that day unaccomplished, which shows we can¬ 
not always do all we calculate to when wocom- 
inence a day's work | for the numberless calls 
of “Mother" from all members of the family 
are groat disturbers of calculations; but they 
must and should be attendod to. Happy is the 
mother who, when she lays her weary head on 
her pillow at night, can rollout on her day’s 
labor with pleasure in the thought that al¬ 
though she may not have performed all the 
household duties she had laid out b>r that day, 
she has listened to all the calls from husband 
ami little ones (and oftimes many others) with 
patience and a ready response. For wherein 
should exist the happiness of awifeand mother 
if not in the gratification of her family? It 
may be a gratification when our day’s labor is 
ended, to think how much milk we have skim¬ 
med ; how much butter churned and worked; 
washing and ironing done; food we have pre¬ 
pared ; dishes washed ; beds made; rooms 
swept, dusted arid put in order; and when it Is 
all done In this line, how much making ol' new 
garments and mending of old we havo done. 1 
say this may he a gratification ; but it will be a 
darripor on those reflection* to think how many \ 
heartaches we have caused because, when called j 
upon for some little favor, we have answered: I 
“ Run away, now; mamma has too much to do 
to tend to little ones." Oh, mothers; stop In 
your great desire to do, and toll of how much 
work you can do in one day or summer; stop 
and see how much you can enjoy your family 
in one day or ouo summer. Your husband or 
little ones may be taken from you by death or 
the circumstances of life, and then whore will 
be the gratification in your loueliness to think 
how much happiness has been sacrificed in the 1 
desire to do a “ big day’s or season’s work.” i 
G. A. L. i 
for tfu{ jgoitiuj. 
CHILD QUESTIONS. 
Oh, sun, big sun, what makes you so bright? 
What makes you so hot? who gave you your light ? 
Hounrl morning glories, tell me true, 
Do little fairies hide in you ? 
Buzzing old bee, how do you fill 
Yourself up with honey ? Show me your bill. 
Guy little butterfly; where do yon hie 
When great dark raindrops fall out of tlio sky ? 
Fire-fly, tire-fly, Is It your eye 
That winks out the light when you flutter by ? 
Fat, speckled lady-bug. must you go home ? 
Will the ionise burn up and the children roam ? 
What are those drops that I find In the grass 
That I can’t pick up ? Who’s that girl in the glass? 
What is this something that’s tossing my hair? 
That I hear in my ear, that I feel everywhere? 
What makes me a girl, and pussy a cut? 
Where did 1 come from ? Do tell me that! 
-4-V-*- 
LETTERS FROM BOYS AND GIRLS. 
Playing with Our Ruraltsts. 
Winn you allow one of your readers to lay 
aside the dignity of “young ladyhood," and 
join your circle of little folks ? I don’t care for 
ruffles and lanes. I just like to put on my pink 
calico and white apron, and have a good romp 
iu the orchard or in the dim, old burn I Please 
ask the little ones if I may come, for I was a 
country girl once, and lived on a great, breezy 
farm, whore there were green meadows, and 
golden Helds, and deep, dark woods, and a 
quaint old house, with a groat, garret, which 
whs it perfect storehouse of treasures for a 
rainy day. Large, brass-bound chests, filled 
with old-fashioned dresses, mantles, shawls 
and brocades that delighted the hearts of our 
great-grand mothers, in the “good old times.” 
Wo laughed at the short walBts, the plain, nar¬ 
row skirts, or tho full, sweeping trains, and the 
tiny satin slippers, with high heels, that went 
through the stately "minuet" very gracefully 
In 1775. And the bonnets, oh! what funny bon¬ 
nets thoy wore 1 Our little heads got quite lost 
in their ample depths. The groat, stiff sun¬ 
shades, and the big, black, spangled fans were 
•ill very beautiful to us, and we often played 
"going to housekeeping" with a spinning 
wheel, a pair of brass andirons, an old high 
clock, a chest of drawers, two or three straight- 
backed, ladder-like chairs, a silver candlestick, 
and an old trooper’s war hat. Oh! it was rare 
sport. Tho rain pattering on the roof, the wasps 
buczlng against the window panes, tho hanging 
bunches of dried herbs sending forth a peculiar 
odor, the shadows hovering in the dark corners. 
I never enjoyed u city party half so well; but 
even a day in that delightful garret was not to 
be compared to the long, sunny afternoons oil 
tho hill-side—the ramble down by the brook, 
where mint grow higher than our curly heads. 
And I owned a llttlo cow, whose name was 
“Star;" and a little pig named “Johnny;” and 
a savage-looking turtle, whoso prison was the 
min cask, and his name was ’■ Muddle ;” aud a 
great ugly toad lived under a big stone, and I 
called him “Beauty;" and 1 owned, also, lots 
of chickens and ducks, but none of the geese, 
for they run at me, and spread their wings in u 
frightful manner, and I considered them very 
rude Indeed. Now, I suppose many of my 
little playmates have all those on their farms, 
and don’t think them worth writing about to 
the Rural. But, Indeed, they aro. A feather 
from the wing of my old enemy, the goose, is 
very, very wonderful, and your kind friend, the 
Rubai,, oould toll you many strunge things 
about it; but just now ho says I had better tie 
on my “sun-dow/i” and go home. Perhaps 
the next time I come to play with you, ho will 
let me stay longer. “ Cousin Marie,’’ East 
New Yorli. 
A Few Words on Dress. 
Dear Rural:—F or some time I have been 
trying to summon courage enough to tell you 
how much 1 look for your coming each week, 
and what a pleasure It is to me to rend the let¬ 
ters sent to you. 1 think that It is in a great 
measure the fault of young gentlemen that 
young ladies are so fond of dress. I am one of 
the plain young girls, am) know from experi¬ 
ence that those who dress the finest are the 
moat sought, after, irrespective of mental or 
moral, vjprth. Our city is noted for the large 
number of handsome aud fashionable young 
ladies winch it contains, and I have, therefore, 
the best opportunities for observation. 
My mother says that the handsomest and 
best-dressed young ladies do not always make 
the best wives. I might, perhaps, be charged 
with l izlnoBS, for, as l have attended school 
regularly lor the past few years, l have had lit¬ 
tle opportunity to learn those household duties 
which, in my estimation, should bo a part of 
evory young lady's education, but am now try¬ 
ing to bear a part of the household burdens.— 
Alice M. B., Vincennes. 
Queer Cure for Dyspepsia. 
Dear Rural : -I am also a country girl, and 
live in “a shady nook by a babbling brook 
that flows at the foot of a hill.” I have neither 
brother nor sister, yet I think I am just as happy 
as I should be if I were one of a quiver full. I 
can do all kinds of work. I can make excellent 
bread (so mother says), and can cook all kinds 
of plain cooking very well. I can out and make 
drosses and other garments neatly, although I 
must admit that I had rather study Botany out 
among the flowers, or solve a problem In Alge¬ 
bra, than do either. 1 like to go to school and 
learn, and wish that I could attend more regu¬ 
larly. 1 have no pets except some cats, and 
they are persecuted nearly to death, Tor father 
is troubled with a disease called dyspepsia, and 
for the want of exercise and u better remedy he 
chases my eats around the house i ll I they sweat 
(a cure which some humorous editor Inserted in 
liis paper some time since). Father takes eight 
papers, all of which are weeklies. I prize the 
Rural very highly (ns I know all Its readers 
cannot help doing), and take especial interest 
in the column “ For Young People.’’— Milkhed. 
Fun on Horseback. 
As J havo read many letters In the Rural 
New-Yorker, and like to read them very 
much, I thought l would try to write one. too. 
I Hvo iii Alabama, three miles from tho nearest 
town. I go to school, two and a-lmlf miles from 
home, but I do not mind going, for 1 have a lit¬ 
tle pony to ride. I am twelve years old. 1 have 
nice times with tho other girls that go to school 
with me. There Is a boy that lives near us that 
rides to school, and I have a great ileal of fun 
evory evening coming homo.— Mary E. S., Car¬ 
rollton, Ala, _ 
My Pets. 
1 RAVE some pots. There is a parrot named 
“Polly;" she will say most everything. And 
there is a pair of white rabbits; (hoy are so 
lame that 1 can catch them anywhere. I have 
a dog; he will jump over a stick, and If I throw 
a stick in the water, he will bring it to mo ; he 
will catch an apple when thrown up in the air. 
—e. a. k. 
ftelcr. 
ILLUSTRATED REBUS.-No. 3. 
E C 
C mu / 
/ 
Answer in two weeks. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA,—No. 4. 
I am composed of 28 letters: 
My 1(5, 8, 21,13, 10, 8 Is a household name. 
My 31, 0, 23,11 was a mantle used by Romans. 
My 8, 7 , 28 , 11, 2, 4 means not brave. 
Mv If), 8,12, 22 was a celebrated Roman. 
My 25,13,11,17, 21,5 was one of the “ seven wise 
men of Groeee." 
My 2 l, 27, 5, 12, 2, 8 is a mythological goddess. 
My 21,31,8, la, 18, 28 was ono of tho ships Sir 
John Franklin started with. 
My 20, 19,20, what a vicious horse will do. 
My 1,10,11, 25, means to strike. 
My 9, 2, 23 is a delicious fruit. 
My 11,12,17, 8, 5 Is said to boar the world on his 
back. 
My whole is a truthful old proverb. 
Marian Harris. 
22?” Answer in two weeks. 
--. 
WORD-PUZZLE.—No. 3. 
I am live letters. My first is 27,32.2, 45 and 54 
inches long ; my first and second Is advice that 
one may observe ; my first, second and third is 
something which happens without human de¬ 
sign or forethought; is a quantity, a prize, a 
mode of separation and t he name of ;, fellow 
who had a mineral wife. My fourth and fifth is 
always you and me. My whole, I nin told, en¬ 
ables you to forget your native country. What 
am * t Uncle Charles. 
*2?” Answer in two weeks. 
PROBLEM,—No. 4. 
The sides of a certain piece of land arc re¬ 
spectively and in order 40,35,17 aud 45 rods in 
length. Determine the length of the line that 
will divide tho field into two equal parts by 
passing through a point equally distant from all 
its angles. B. F. Burleson. 
IW" Answer in two weeks. 
ANAGRAM. No. 1. 
Ey givlin llrdens sa ouy asps yb, 
Lewd wvei het rougnd rhewe yuosmut ile. 
Sa I ma own os ouy stum ob; 
Ppeerraorf thead dan wolllo em. 
Answer in two weeks. w. f. b. 
■-*-*-•- 
PUZZLER ANSWERS. - July 19. 
Illustrated Rebus No. 2.—I lisped in num¬ 
bers before the numbers came. 
Conundrum No. 1.—Infatuate. 
