M © © B £ 5 S BUBAL HEW-YORKER 
JM 
MY SON. 
BY charlotte cordier. 
I hate no need to speak ; 
He knows It ail. 
If I but of ldra think, 
Without my Call 
He soon draws near. 
And when I meet his eyes, 
So soft and clear. 
The gospel of the skies 
I seem to hear, 
In one word told. 
Upon hla brow, enthroned, 
Sits every grace i 
For there the sweet, broad word 
Each one can trace, 
Of charity. 
--*-*-♦-—- 
USE THE GOLDEN EGGS. 
The farmer who works to the last limit of 
daylight, and thus hoes his garden moonlight 
nights, is a poor manager, lie docs not get the 
most out of life. It is not worth while to hoard 
up the golden eggs, whieh the good goose lays, 
until they are stale. Better use them, day by 
da). as you need them. In otear words, don’t 
be so greedy of gain that you deny yourself all 
comfort and pleasure as you go along, In the 
hope of securing the means for taking a long 
rest, by-and-by. When the capacity f->r enjoy¬ 
ment is gone, how worthless will tie tho means 
for securing it 1 What is a tine gallery of paint¬ 
ings to the man who baa lost bis eyesight? 
The young farmer should quit work early 
enough to v.a.-ih up, change lib' soiled clothes, 
arid slip on a fr< .h linen coat or, better still, a 
good dressing gown, before he sits down to hi* 
supper. Ho will enjoy it ten times as welt, and 
so will bis family, ft w ill have an elevating in¬ 
fluents® on the whale household. Let tho sup¬ 
per bo early enough to ensure good sound sleep, 
even for the children. If there is time after 
supper, often take the tired wife and little ones 
out fora ride of hair an hour, or drop mto a 
neighbor's and spend a social evening. Y bon 
at home, make tho evening hour pleasant by 
some cheerful game or entertaining reading. 
It is these little matters that make the differ¬ 
ence between an intelligent, refined and happy 
household, and one where Its members are little 
more than drudges and slaves. 
I shall never forgot a little brick cottage, 
where r often visited in early life. The inmates 
were hard-working people, yet there was an aii 
of tru« refinement and culture apparent on 
every side. Two elderly daughters kept house 
for their aged father and two younger brot hers. 
The lending periodicals of tho day were found 
on their table, and were all thoroughly read. 
Thfc hoUfle *vvns nhvayn in ttift ncat^t* ordor, stud 
the two sisters were tho happiest, cheeriest 
old maids 1 evor knew. Tho oldest son was a 
horn artist, and various specimens of his skill 
adorned the walls. His groupings of flowers In 
wreaths and bouquets wore most exquisite. 
Though self-taught, bo had often been em¬ 
ployed to make sketches of rural head-pieces 
for newspapers, receiving very good compen¬ 
sation. It did not turn his head, however, and 
cause him to give up a good, sure living on the 
old farm lor the precarious gains of art. Draw¬ 
ing was a pastime, not an occupation. The 
other brother was a flue musician. Indeed, 
both boys played and sang wcdl; and often, on 
summer evenings, as they sat In u group on the 
broad stone steps, the sound of the flute and 
violin blended sweetly with the singing of the 
sisters, and caused many a pa- ser-hy to pause, 
and peer through the bower of green in which 
the house stood, to catch a glimpse of the musi¬ 
cians. It was tho pleasantest farm-house and 
happiest farmer’s family lever knew. If they 
did not grow rich, they did better: they en¬ 
joyed a comfortable living as they went alonr. 
Don't hoard up for the winter of life what you 
need to make you comfortable in tho spring¬ 
time and summer. Don’t harden your chil¬ 
dren's natures by a close-listed policy, that 
shall make them unloved and unlionored and 
wretched through life. J- W’C. 
---- 
GIRLS, HARRY FARMERS, 
« _i 
Ginns 1 Make up your minds, love and other 
contingencies included, to marry a iarmer, if 
such a thing he lu your power. With this end 
in view, cultivate your tastes and habits to 
meet its requirements, taking advantage of 
every opportunity for perfecting yourselves in 
such employment as will best befit you for such 
a station, remembering always, that however 
wealthy or fashionable you may be, there is no 
disgrace attached to any labor that can make 
ourselves or others more happy or comfortable. 
It is the hands that ennoble the work, not the 
work that soils the hands of the true, right- 
minded woman 1 And should you choose rather 
to become the wife of a merchant or mechanic, 
depend upon It, your husband will think none 
tho less of you because you are familiar with 
all the necessary details of housekeeping, so 
that, the sudden dis.ifb etion of Bridget need 
not create a panic in bis home. There is not a 
family in whieh such a contingency may not 
occur. How much more agreeable to the tired 
husband to find hia wife pleasantly preparing 
the evening meal, which the sudden departure 
of t he cook has made her duty, than to tlnd her 
bewailing her dreadful position, which she, 
knowing nothing of such matters, is powerless 
to remedy, while ho, poor,tired mortal, is com¬ 
pelled to search cupboard and panl ry, satisfying 
his hunger with any stray bits which Bridget 
may have loft-or yet, perhaps, go forth to some 
saloon in scorch of his supper. 
When you have found tho honest, intelligent 
farmer, who fills the measure of all your love, 
and is In your eyes the noblest and best of all 
God's croatiou, rqujBinber that yen arc to bo a 
“ helpmeet for him !” Not only as regards the 
daily routine of labor attending farm life, but 
in mind and Intellect his equal; helping him 
to add to, rather than forgot, i be knowledge he 
acquired as a young man ; ids " helpmeet. ” In 
the way of pleasures and amusements, which 
serve to make him at times forget the weari¬ 
ness of body resulting from his labors; a “ help¬ 
meet” in taste, which will adorn his home, 
within and without, that it may ever bo a thing 
of beauty in the eyes of its owner. A wife 
should know enough of the requirements of a 
homo to plan one that, will b&neat, pretty and 
convenient; she should control her ambition 
so as to bo content with such a beginning as tier 
husband's means will admit, and want no more; 
she should, as far as able, surround his home 
with trees, fruits and flowers; let its walls bo 
adorned with a tew pictures,and its shelves con¬ 
tain good and entertaining books; let papers, 
both agricultural, scientific and literary, bo ever 
ready to tho husband’s hands. Thus, while 
making for herself and husband n pleasant 
homo, it will over bo a pleasure to friends to 
gat her in and while away an Idle hour, to their 
own pleasure and profit. 
Now tlsat you arc ready to begin housekeep¬ 
ing, if it Is possible,dispense with the “hired 
girls,” Not that I think farmers' wives ought 
not to keep help, but because—unless you nan 
be blessed with the one exception to the gen¬ 
eral rule—you will be so much happier without 
them; but If you feel that your means will 
justify, in anticipation of the need of help that 
may come to after years, you may look about, 
among the many orphan waifs that are scatter¬ 
ed up ami down tho whole earth, and gather 
into your little nest of a home soma half-starved 
nestlings, who will grow up under your oare and 
cultivation, intelligent and active—a help to 
you, and a blessing likewise,—while you will be 
obtaining tho blessing that Is promised to all 
who “ give tho cup of cold water to one of those 
little ones l” Aunt Lott. 
--——»-»-» .■— - - 
THE CAPACITY TO WOKK. 
Tiie faculty with which some are endowed 
to do certain kinds of work, and to do it well, 
seems almost miraculous. And it. may ho pos¬ 
sible that there exist those who can accomplish 
general housework in tho same marvelous way. 
I have known a woman who had worked all 
day, making a great, stir, and yet when night 
canm, another, moving so quietly that, you hard¬ 
ly realized her presence, hud accomplished fully 
one-third more. 
There are wonderful adopts In the ranking or 
tine laces, and rich embroideries; fairy stories, 
cunningly wrought; exquisite portraying* of 
nature's most beautiful scenery ; and enchant¬ 
ing strains of a wool melody being wafted in the 
air. Yet since all are not thus gifted, the many 
pay homage to ! ne few, doubting riot what their 
eyes behold nr their ears hear, merely because 
they themselves have not tho skill to produce 
the same result. 
There may b,:. other “ crisp " writers, yet there 
ha been but one Fanny Fern: other represen¬ 
tations of dross and character, but none like 
those of Dickens; so also docs the modesty 
and sweetness of Hawthorns stand alone. 
Then why not a pre-eminently able woman 
have tiie credit due her, if she excels “In doing 
much housework?" Why is It that we are so 
prone to believe that one cannot do more than 
many others. In general housework, and yet, 
admit that there have boon those far excelling 
all others in music, painting and writing? 
However, instead of discussing this question, 
my object was to propose that those interested 
in general housework would, for the benefit of 
young housekeepers, glide Into the channel of 
tolling them what they had to do, and how they 
did it. My beginning housekeeping was with a 
limited knowledge of Its manifold labors; and 
hardly before the first meal had been prepared, 
a friend was ready to partake of it. with us. 
Knowing judgment would be passed respecting 
my ability to succeed, there was a iittlo Inward 
flurry, at least. A good beginning surely, but 
no bettor than has been pretty well kept tip; 
and, Mr. Editor, whenever the Rural has been 
“ full jeweled " with valuable recipes, one heart 
has been made glad. C. V. h. s. 
MAN AS A LEAE. 
Man is no bettor than a leaf driven by the 
wind until he has completely mastered his 
great, lonely dut‘66. If he has no habit, of re¬ 
tiring from all that, is worldly, and of convers¬ 
ing lace to face with his inner man. If he does 
not. draw down upon his soul “ the powers of 
the world to come, then he is no man yet ', he 
has not found tne life of man, nor the strength 
of man; he is a poor, unhappy man, sporting 
only with shadows, and affrighted before the 
real and llie eternal. He owns a great house, a 
wonderful house, but it is shut up, and lie lives 
outside with his fellow-cattle; the inside is 
wholly unknown to him. and he has lived out¬ 
side so long that he is afraid of the inside. 
Think, mv good brothers and sisters, of the 
groat, high, serene world, in which you might 
live and move and have your being. 
LITTLE BROWN HANDS. 
They drive home the cows from the pasture, 
Up through tho lung, shady lane 
Where the quail whistles loud In tho wheat-fields 
That are yellow wit h ripening grain. 
They Arid in the thick, waring grasses, 
Whore the scarlet-lipped strawberry grows; 
They gather the curliest snow-drops, 
And the first crimson buds of the rose. 
They toss the new hay In tho meadow | 
They gather the elder-bloom white j 
They find where the dusky vrapes purple 
In the soft-tinted October light. 
They know where the apples hang ripest. 
And are sweeter than Italy wines; 
They know where the fruit hangs the thickest 
On tho long, thorny blackberry vines. 
They gather the delicate sea-weeds, 
And tmild ttuy castles of sand; 
They pick up the beautiful sea-shells,— 
Fairy barks that have drifted to land. 
They wave from the tall, rooking tree-tops 
Where the oriole’s hammock neat swings. 
And at night-time are folded in slumber 
By a song that a fund mother sings. 
Those who toll bravely are strongest; 
Tho humble and pour become great; 
And from ihesn brown-handed Children 
Shall grow mighty rulers of state. 
The pen of the author and statesmen,— 
The nohle and wise Of the land,— 
The loving and motherly woman, 
Who’ll wisely mold all with her hand. 
-*-• 
“BECAUSE FATHER DOES.” 
BY NELLI® BENTON. 
When Jack Sullivan, a fast boy of 14, came 
Into hia mother's* parlor the other day, half in¬ 
toxicated, she reprimanded him In my pres¬ 
ence. His answer was: •“ Talk to father, I say, 
ol* woman. Now, ye know, dad likes good 
whisky mighty sight better’n Ido; of tie'll stop 
I'll stop; of ho won’t, bo durned cf I will!” and 
he wont out. 
She turned to mo in despair. Wbafcisa mot In r 
to do in such abase? If she talks to Mr. Sul¬ 
livan, he says:—“You wear my life out by 
your peevish fault-finding. You are over- watch¬ 
ful, as if I, John Sullivan, a mail that wo* 
never known to he drunk, needed a woman's 
apron string to bo Med to his jacket buttons to 
tail me Just how far to go.” 
“ Now, dear Mrs. Smith, what would you do? 
What shall I do?” 
Your duty ia plain. Talk to him, keep talk¬ 
ing to Idrn. Urge him for the Hake of the boy, 
his bey, to stop. W hy, he’s your boy; your own 
flesh and blood. You have a right to diotato in 
the matter, it’s that boy's future bore and 
hereafter that is at stake. You can't afford to 
keep silent. Talk, Mrs. Sullivan ; act, and 
that without delay. 
When good Mrs. Brown's little boy of four 
years swore at liia hobby horse a great, big full- 
grown oath—and she corrected him, Ills answer 
was:—“ I swear jos like Papa Brown swears at 
his hosses. I gcij I can talk to my horse like 
Papa Brown does to his horses, I ges I can. 
Mam mu, Why can’t I swear like papa?” She, 
poor, feeble woman, turned to mo imploringly: 
“ What shall T do, Mrs. Smith I” 
“ Have you ever talked with Mr. Brown about 
this fearful habit?” 
“Oh, yes, many times, even until it makes 
him angry; and he sometimes swears at me. 
Yes, good as he Is in every other respect, at me 
he- swears when I expostulate." 
“Well, keep expostulating; make him bear 
you. Ho has no right to ruin your hoy. Let 
him swear at you till he is ashamed of it. Keep 
your temper; then ask him it ho would like to 
hoar ills boy sweet - like that." 
I went home, fueling that there was about to 
be a great reformation In the lives of JohnSul- 
T-rvAN and Mat Brown, and all due to a little 
encouragement and advice from Mrs. John 
Smith to their nspeellvo wives. “I could 
manage their oar-cs, T know 1 could,” I said to 
myself, as I hurried down the road. 
Justus I lifted the latch of our little gate, I 
hoard a slight tap at our sitting room window. 
1 looked up. Thero stood our Johnny, our 
pride, our only, a dear little fellow of two years, 
with two obi Ijhtvk chm pipes in his mouth, and 
both little fists full of tobacco. I sprang into 
the house like one mad. I caught the pipes, I 
rushed to the stove. I threw them in, and sent 
tlic tobacco in after them. Then I shook my 
fists at those pipes and said” I’ll talk to you, 
John Smith, when you get home, see if I 
don’t.” Then l caught the baby, washed him 
with soap suds, hia little hands, his little face, 
but the taint was there yet. Then he laid his 
little lo ad up against me and sobbed “ ’Twas 
dood, matnrna, so dood. Johnny want to moke 
like papa: give Johnny pipe”—the living truth 
this is, and lie only two years old. I just put 
my hand on my face and cried. Then, before T 
knew it, I looked to see if John had any more 
pipes lying around. I could find none. Then I 
went to the tobacco box. There was just 
enough tobacco for “ one good smoke.” I con¬ 
fess J. folt relieved at that. Then I said:—“ Oh, 
dear, I wish l hadn’t been ho hasty. John’ ll 
count on his after-dinner smoke, and he’ll be 
so angry, I wonder if the pipes are broken? 
burning won’t hurt them, only do them good.” 
Quick as lightning l flow to thestovo. One pipe 
was whole. Carefully I drew it out with the 
tongs and laid it away to cool. Then I got din¬ 
ner ready and John came. T looked solemn, 1 
know I did. John saw it. ami asked so pleas¬ 
antly, “ What's the matter, Martha V” that. 1 
couldn’t toll him. ft would made him angry in' 
a minute if 1 had told him it was only a piece 
of that old bone of contention sticking In my 
tooth. For hadn't, hoeolomniy warned me that 
I had said enough on the tobacco question? So 
I pat nty hand over my heart and said, “I’m 
troubled with a pain right here,".which was the 
literal truth. After dinner, John s»t himself 
down in tho path bei ween the dinner table and 
pantry und smoked for one mortal hour. IV lien 
he had finished, he said, “ I didn’t know I had 
a new pipe hero.” 
“Iburned it out," l said, quietly. Would it 
have done one iiuviMe of good to have told him 
what a breeze I raised about It? 
“ Thunk you. Good by, baby, papa’s boy;” 
and he was gone to tiie shop with a happy heart 
and ready hand. 
That was the way I “ talked t o John Smith ;” 
I, who had been so free with my advice an hour 
before. 
Now, ll’anybody has a recipe that lie or she 
has actually tested, for curing fathers from this 
loathsome habit, I, for one, will be doubly 
grateful for a little advice from such an one. 
And 1 may safely say that, ho will, by so doing, 
confer a favor on thousands less frank I ban my¬ 
self, but not less anxious. T don’t want any of 
your ftiia theories t hough, such os I spun to 
Mrs. Sullivan. 
It. is not for myself to speak. I can get along 
tolerably well with cleaning the spittoons; I 
can manage to boar tiie disagreeable odor. I 
have got accustomed to the kiln-drying process 
that, shows Itself on John’s face. 1 can save up 
on calico frocks, in order to furnish John with 
cigars, i am willing to scrimp tho sweetening 
in the plum sauce for JOH N Is fund of stowed 
plums, and I never cut them. It's only for tiie 
boy's sake that I lmve come to foul that some¬ 
thing must be done, but for the life of me, I 
don’t know what. 
Don’t tell mo there’s no hope only in tolling 
the boy to shun the example of his fat her. That 
sickens me. Women have come to that, I know. 
All liver our land to-day, mothers are t itching 
this lesson to their sous, while the text should 
be, “Honor thy rather." Must wo mothers close 
our mouths -which Is tho greatest trial a woman 
can la* put to, John says arid see the work of 
destruct ion go on ? 
Make llgln. of this if you will. To me, it is a 
serious question. And I mean more than T say, 
John Smith. 
m fuller. 
PROBLEM—No. 5. 
The three perpendiculars of a triangle inter¬ 
sect each other at a point within tho triangle, 
situated 20. 8 and (i rods respectively In perpen¬ 
dicular distance from Us several sides- Re¬ 
quired, the sides of the triangle. 
K P—20 rods; F P-fi rods; D P-3 rods. 
Ji. F. Burleson. 
"gST Answer in two weeks. 
-- 
CROSS-WORD ENIGMA.—No. 2. 
My first is in apple but not in peach, 
My second is in talking hut not In speech; 
My third is in laugh but. not in weep, 
My fourth is in wake but not in sleep ; 
My fifth is in wagon but not in cart, 
My Hixth is in tarry but not in start, 
My seventh Is in limb but not in tree, 
My eighth is in coffee but, not in tea; 
My whole is a large hotly of water. 
Walter W. It. Fisher. 
23?” Answer in two weeks. 
SQUARE-WORD ENIGMA.—No. 1. 
1. A REVERBERATION. 
2. To cut off. 
3. A reward. 
4. Free of access. 
Answer in two weeks. 
D. d. h. 
PUZZLER ANSWERS. - July 26. 
Problem No. 3.— 
(28.100580 rods. 
- 23.807135 “ 
1 20.031047 “ 
Miscellaneous Enigma No. 3.—“My Native 
Land, Good Night.” 
Cross-Word Enigma No. 1.— Tobacco. 
Word-Puzzle No. 2.— Carpenter. 
Conundrum No. 3.— Insaturable. 
