call my pony “Echo, and always chick, 
bridle and saddle her myself, ’i ou are of 
the opinion, Mr. Editor, that when little 
girls tell what they do, they should tell just 
how they do it; but to tell all about how I 
broke my colt, would make my letter too 
long. But I would say to all lit He boys and 
girls who wish to break colts, that they can 
succeed if they will only be patient, kind and 
gentle. 1 am not a timid little girl. I can 
put a horse in a cart, wagon or buggy as-well 
as a man can, and drive it as well, alter I get 
it rigged up. , 
X will tell you where I live, as some of the 
little writers for the Rural expressed a wish 
that we should. We live eighteen miles from 
A TOAST TO NOVEMBER 
BY MRS. ANNIE H. FROST. 
window. She took up Tennyson, and tne 
book opened at the “ Palace of Art.” She 
softly repeated from it: 
“ * Make me a cottage in the vale,’ she said, 
‘ Where 1 may mourn and pray; 
Yet pull not down my palace towers that are 
So lightly, beautifully built; 
Perclmnoe I may return with others there 
When I have purged my guilt.’ ” 
At this moment a shadow darkened the 
doorway. Charlie entered. 
“ Good evening, Miss Roxie.” 
She started from her chair in surprise, and 
took him by the hand. He looked into 
her face, first coldly, then with the closest 
scrutiny. 
“ How is it with you ?” he queried gently. 
“ Oh, Charlie, I don’t know. 1 am mis¬ 
erable ! I am so glad you have come.” 
“ Tell me all about it, dear. Can I help 
you?” 
“ Citarlik, you have found God ; where 
did you find Him ? ” 
The grave young face became irradiated. 
“ Roxie,” he answered, with the supreme 
est tenderness, taking her hands in his, “ first 
l found Him in my affliction; since then He 
has been with me all along the path of duty.” 
“ Help me to find Him, Charlie!" 
“ Darling, have I found you at last?” and 
lie twined his arms about her, and drew her 
tightly to him. 
“ Shall wc walk together down the ways 
of life, seeking Him ?” 
“ Yes, oh yes!” 
“And won’t it be better than seeking the 
‘ gold at the end of the how ?' ” 
“ Yes, a thousand times yes 1” 
LKT other* sing In pral»o of *pring, 
Of June, or fair September j 
I'll till brim up my sparkling cup. 
And drink to drear Norember. 
A GOOD RULE 
A farmer, who owned a fine orchard, one day 
Went out with his two sons to take a survey, 
The time of the year being April or May. 
In spring, ’tls true, alt thing* are new- 
Its own charm hath September: 
But finer air plays with the hair 
Of stately,gray Novembor. 
The buds were beginning to break into bloom, 
The air all about him was rich with perfume, 
And nothing, at first, waked a feeling of gloom. 
And though the tunc wc hear in June 
ThriUs through each vein and member. 
Though gorgeous dyes like sunset skies. 
Tinge all thjr woods, September; 
Yet. like rare lace 'round some old face 
We lovn so to remember, 
The gray boughs trace a tenderer grace 
On thy pure brow, November. 
And there’s no tune like that weird rune 
Thy pines croon, drear November ! 
No autumn blaze woos like thy haze. 
Flaunt as she will, September. 
Then fill hrlm up each sparkling cup. 
And drain it well: remember; 
To pledge your host with this new toast, 
“A health to old November!” 
But all at once, going from this place to that, 
He shaded his eyes with the brim of his hat. 
Saying, " Here Is a tree dying out, that is flat I” 
He called his sons; Joseph and John, and said he, 
“ This sweeting, you know, was my favorite tree- 
Just look at the top, now, and see what you see! 
*• The blossoms are blighted, and sure as you live. 
It won’t have a bushel of apples to give ! 
What ails it? the rest of the trees seem to thrive. 
“ Run. boys, bring hither your tools and don’t stop, 
But take every branch that Is falling alop, 
And saw it out quickly from bottom to top I” 
“ Yes, father,” they said, and away they both ran— 
For they always said father, and never old man 
And for my part 1 don’t see how good children can 
touts for JUmtUol 
And before a half-hour of the morritng was gone, 
They were back in the orchard, both Joseph and 
John, 
And presently all the dead branches were sawn. 
“Well, boys.” said the farmer,” 1 think for my share, 
If the rain and the sunshine but second our care, 
The old sweeting yet will be driven to bear!” 
IN THE WHIRLWIND 
BY E. BUHART. 
And so when a month, may be more, had gone by. 
And borne out the June, and brought in the July. 
He came back, the luck of the pruning to try- 
[Concluded from page 322, last No.] 
Her elegant, friend, Ralph Stewart, 
with whom she played at the card party, on 
her advent into the city, was her most de¬ 
voted attendant 
And to! when the sweeting was reached it was found 
That wind-falls enough were strewn over the ground. 
But never an apple all blushiug and sound. 
and lie was also preferable 
to any of those she had met. He had riches, 
and fine looks, and grace, and wit. “ What 
more could he asked?" she demanded of 
licrself, as if some voice had dissented. And 
then he made love in such a charming style, 
under the gaslight, at the theater, driving 
in the park, over a dish of cream, out of the 
fragrant, matchless bouquet—with such 
elegant leisure, too. It was just bliss — 
wasn’t it? Of course, it must be. How 
could it he otherwise? His presence gave 
her such pleasure —for an hour. 
So he placed the engagement ring upon 
her finger. 
In a liLUe old-fashioned hook somebody 
has said that lie liked bus conscience to he 
clear, so he could enjoy solitude. 
Roxie did not enjoy solitude. It filled 
her with strange disquiet. But she was not 
required to meet solitude. Every chink of 
Then the farmer said, shaping liis motions to suit, 
First up to the boughs and then down to the fruit, 
“ Come Johnny, come Joseph, and dig to the root!” 
And straightway they came with their spade and 
their hoes. 
And threw off their jackets, and shouting, “ Here 
goes 1” 
They digged down, and down, with the sturdiest 
blows. 
Roxie married Charlie. She did not 
lose her pleasure-loving, beauty-loving na¬ 
ture. She had her “ cottage in the vale 
but her “ palace towers,” so lightly, beauti¬ 
fully built, she also had. She built them for 
herself, all about her life. She built them 
with the spirit that was once selfish , but was 
now selfless. 
And by-and-by, Joseph his grubbing-hoe drew 
From the earth and the roots, crying, “ Father look! 
do.” 
And he pointed his words with the toe of his shoe! 
And the farmer said, shaping a gesture to suit, 
“I see why our sweeting has brought us no fruit— 
There's a worm sucking out ull-the sap, at the root!” 
Then John took his spade with an awful grimace, 
And lifted the ugly thing out of It* place. 
And put the earth back in very short space. 
And when the next your came, It only Is fair 
To say that the sweeting rewarded the care. 
And bore them good apples, enough and to spare. 
And now, ray dear children, whenever you see 
A life that is profitless, think of that tree : 
For out of ten chances to one there will be 
Some habit of evil indulged day by day. 
And hid as the earth-worm whb hid in the clay. 
That Is steadily sapping the life-blood away. 
The fruit, when the blossom is blighted, will fall— 
The sin will he searched out,, no matter how small, 
So, what you’re ashamed to do, don't do at all! 
[Alice Cary. 
IIow Ethel’s mother Fropngaien 
Ethel’s mother is in Florida, and lias 
left her house plants with Ethel in Michi¬ 
gan, who writes:— “ Mother always roots 
her plants in water, and a great many of 
them root in a week. She just takes a bottle 
and fills it with water, and puls the slip in 
the water; she don’t touch it until it is 
rooted.” 
crimson hue. Little birds came forth and 
sang. 
“ And so this awful Power permits the 
little birds to sing?” said Roxie to herself. 
The girl was marvelously changed. She 
seemed to have grown into a woman in one 
short hour. She stood erect and dignified, 
with a grave, earnest face. 
Ralph brought about, the horse, and they 
drove away. He made an effort at conver¬ 
sation. She seemed incapable of speech. 
At length, she drew off her gloves, and de¬ 
liberately took the diamond from lier finger 
and placed it in his hand. 
“ What can you mean !” he exclaimed, in 
surprise. 
“ Ralph, we are miles and miles apart. 1 
have feared it a long time; now I am 
certain .” 
“ I think we are pretty near just now, and 
I am sure it is a very comfortable nearness, 
if you will only regain yourself.” 
” Do not mistake me! I am in earnest. 
Let us put this engagement to an end." 
“Very well; as you please,” be replied, 
in a constrained tone. 
LETTERS FROM RURAL GIRLS 
LETTERS FROM RURAL BOYS 
llow lo Make Balloons. 
Somebody has told us how to make gas 
for balloons ; now if some one of your many 
readers would tell us bow to make balloons, 
it would oblige a subscriber’s son very much. 
—A Rcral Boy. 
What Eliphulet Does. 
I can do all kinds of farm work that tu‘ 
have to do, but ray steadiest business is milk¬ 
ing cows, and I claim my sell pretty good in 
that line. I make all sorts of picture frames 
and images; my best hold is to personate 
the ladies. I also practice music, solder old 
pans, basins, and so on. As for housework, 
I can cook, bake, wash dishes, sweep, make 
beds, iron, wash, and do housework in gen¬ 
eral; and if I can’t get up as good a meal, 
and eat as much as any boy, then I’m miv 
takeu. Perhaps you will think as I do, 
“ Jack at all trades, and master of none. 
Elephalet H., Herkimer Co., N. 7. 
To Tnu Aluakrat Skins with the Fur On. 
I here give the recipe for tanning musk¬ 
rat skins that Ned inquires about. Fust, 
for soaking, to ten gallons of cold soft water 
add eight quarts of wheat bran, one-lmij 
pint of old soap, one ounce of borax; by 
tnm minces sulohuric acid the soav- 
Deak Rural Girls:—I would like to tell 
you how we use hoop skirt wire at the West. 
Bend a piece of wire the size ot a pan, cover 
with mosquito bar, to place over milk pans 
to exclude the flics, so troublesome at this 
seasou of the year. Work baskets are pretty. 
Rings of the wire for the bottom; one or two 
rows for the sides; line them, and trim with 
rosettes of bright worsted; paint them any 
color you choose; rings for handles. 
Comb cases can he made similar to the pa¬ 
per holders described by Ella —smaller, of 
course. 
I have made a doll’s cradle for my sister, 
of oval shape, higher at the head than the 
foot, lower in the center, paiuted green, 
trimmed with gilt paper; rockers ot wood, 
also painted, wired to the cradle. If Dora 
has a little sister, she will find this a pretty 
Christmas gift. 
We have several brackets of lichen from 
piue trees, varnished, suspended by cords ; 
holes are easily bored in the corners for the 
cords to pass through. They can be trimmed 
with acorns painted (Afferent colors, and 
glued on. Ours have been much admired. 
1 am thirteen years of age, and can do almost, 
as much as Lisle, B. R., of out-door work, 
as well as in the house.— Hattie, Clinton , 
Wisconsin. _ 
A Kentucky Girl, and Her Colt anil Home. 
Dfar Mr. Editor:— Ever since I saw 
Ralph’s friends asked, “ How did it hap¬ 
pen ?’’ 
“ Oli, she grew dull, lost her sparkle, was 
as tasteless as—water.” 
“ How did it happen ?" asked Roxie’s 
friends. But she never explained. 
That night, when she returned to the city, 
she went resolutely to her room and packed 
all her handsome clothing in the little home¬ 
ly trunk. “ So I will try and bury my folly,” 
she said. And she put on a plain dress, 
went down to the parlors, and excused 
herself from the evening engagement, and 
an no UDced her intention of going home next 
day. And then she had all the opposing 
kindly voices to silence, and thanks to ex¬ 
press for countless favors received, and there 
the chapter ended. 
Roxie was home once more. The home 
folks were surprised and delighted to find 
her no more of the “ fine lady.” Her man¬ 
ners were simple and genuine, though cul¬ 
tured. Certainly they' did not find her the 
old Roxie. She went about lier duties in 
her old energetic way; she still laughed 
merrily; still lost her temper on occasion. 
Yet she was now more quietly thoughtful for 
others; and often there was a pitiful yearn¬ 
ing in her great eyes—they seemed asking, 
feelings, and gives him a center for his 
thoughts, his affections, and his acts. Here 
is a home for the entire man, and the counsel, 
the affections, the example, and the interest 
of his ‘better half’ keep him from erratic 
courses, and from falling into a thousand 
temptations to which he would otherwise 
be exposed. Therefore, the friend to mar¬ 
riage is the friend to society, and to his 
country.” 
