42 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
'Bomrsfir (Erotiomu. 
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE OLD FEATHER 
BED. 
BY MAY MAPLE. 
Whew ! what a fearful thrust that was from 
“ Free Lance,” in the Rural of February 3, all 
about auntie's old feather bed! Wo suppose, 
because we have so long been silent, that he 
thiuks he has perfectly convinced us of the filth¬ 
iness of those old-time foatherH. But alas ! and 
alack! we are not yet converted to the new 
theory, nor even convinced of our wrong-doing 
in respect to sleepJug on cushions of down. Wo 
still continue to luxuriate in the time-honorod 
custom of ensconcing ourself in mother s fat 
feather bed on every possible occasion. Perhaps 
wo appreciate the blessing all the more because 
there are people in the world apparently anxious 
to see the feathers of the old gray goose and 
silver-winged gander living loose through the 
air, like wandering, homeless birds. We say 
apparently, tor I quite suspect that if those same 
individuals, possessed from three to six fat 
feather bods, they would be among the last to 
scatter them to the four winds ot heaven. 
We have never examined a feather through a 
microscope, hut think if each tiny feather gather 
so many impurities from the human body, as 
“ Free Lance" and a few others would have us 
believe, the beds would swell to enormous pro¬ 
portions In a short time, even though a large 
allowance was made for waste feathers. In fact, 
an India rubber case could not bind the constant¬ 
ly swelling maBs. 
Again, if they aro such filthy things, why do 
they not become offensive to the olfactory nerves, 
and thus make themselves unendurable ? Per¬ 
haps ‘•Free Lance” would say that one may 
gradually become so accustomed to a disagree¬ 
able odor that ono docs not notice it at last, 
For his consolation, we reply that we have boon 
away from the bome-nost for months at a time, 
and have slept on straw mattresses ; and when, 
at last, we returned to our own cozy room and 
bed, with its snowy linen, and fleecy counter¬ 
pane, we discovered no “ carrion smell," and 
luxuriated in actual rest; arising in the morning 
refreshed both in body and mind. 
Now, wo do think it a piece of absurdity to in¬ 
dulge iu exaggeration. Suppose we examine our 
bread and butter, uncooked meats, fruits, etc., 
with a magnifying glass, and Utid all our eata¬ 
bles as full of insects as a summer cheese is full 
of “skippers;” would the knowledge add to our 
health and happiness ? We have road that the 
German's “saur kraut” turned to lizards, and 
that a piue-applo, when magnified, was found to 
contaiu snakes and “ varmints" enough to sup¬ 
ply all the nations of the earth with curiosities. 
Our small fruits are all more or less inhabited ; 
and even the water we drink is full of horrible- 
looking “ toadyisms." Must we stop eating those 
things that have, ever since the creation of man, 
been considered the necessities of lire, because, 
by looking through a magnifier, all things be¬ 
come a hideous, loathsome mass r Must we, 
then, turn away from the goblet of sparkling 
water, wliou our lips aro dry, our tongue parch¬ 
ed, and our nature cries out for a draught from 
the doop, dark well, or cool, mossy spring '< 
We admire the bright, intelligent eye, when 
beheld in its natural state, but who would be 
willing to carry about the distorted, disgusting 
thing, as it appears with its veins and arteries a 
thousand times euiargod ? But shall we cast it 
from ns because it can bo made to appear disa¬ 
greeable. Science is a blessing when kept within 
its own domain, but when it takes from us all 
luxuries, comforts, even necessities, and calls 
them all filthy and unfit for uso ; when it takos 
from Nature's bounteous hands only the husk or 
bran, to feed the children of mankind with, and 
obliges thorn to rest, thoir wearied bodies upou 
shavings And “humpty-dumpty” springs ; when 
it snatches from our grasp all God-givon pleas¬ 
ures, yes, even to the taking away of our faith 
iu the Creator, then we enter our protest, and 
say : “Oh, Soiouce, hide thyself away for a sea¬ 
son, till thou hast acquired a few grains of com¬ 
mon 801IS0." 
P. S.—Since writing the above, wo have had 
the opportunity of examining a feather from an 
old bed, magnified to many times its natural 
size, and yet we discovered neither “ ravenous 
wolves," nor anything unclean about the snow- 
white plume. 
ECONOMIZING STEPS. 
If the house-keepers who read the Rural, will 
heed the following sensible advice given by the 
one who writes the “ Home interests ” for tho 
New York Tribune, they will save much valuable 
time as well as fatigue of body. 
A large part of the weariness of housework 
comes from the number of steps required of the 
house-keeper while performing it. The going 
I 
up and down stairs, the vibration between the 
kitchen, dining-room, cellar, and other parts of 
the house, wear out the strength quite as much 
as all other tasks combined. Hence such con¬ 
centration of resources a* will give the house¬ 
keeper the advantage of position, and the easy 
command of every point, to be covered, is of the 
utmost importance. If she can find in her 
laundry everything necessary for washing and 
ironing, tho work is comparatively easy. If she 
can find in her pantry every requisite for com¬ 
pounding bread, pastry, cake, and have no occa¬ 
sion to run here and there to get things together 
and put them away again, her task will seem 
light. If in her sewing-room she can put her 
baud on everything required by tho seamstress, 
without the perplexity and trouble of hunting 
up linings, thread, buttons, braid, that task will 
be robbed of half its weariness. But compara¬ 
tively few houses have been planned with refer¬ 
ence to this saving of stops. The majority of 
families have no special room fitted up as a laun¬ 
dry, no pantry capacious enough to contain 
everything a pantry should contain, no sewing- 
room set apart for that sole purpose, and arti¬ 
cles needed in these various industries are 
necessarily scattered and kept where it is most 
convenient to keep them. The washing utensils 
are usually kept in the cellar and must be brought 
to the kitchen and carried back again. Tho 
sewing-machine stands not far from the cook- 
stove, so the woman who does her own work can 
have an oversight of tho cooking while busy at 
the machine, but her materials for sewing can¬ 
not all be within reach. Yet by using her brainB 
as much as she doeB her feet, she may save the 
latter many an unnecessary trip. If she must 
go down the collar for anythiug let her pause a 
moment before starting and see if there is not 
something to be carried down, or if there is any 
errand there that may be attended to other than 
the special one she goes on. 1 f she has occasion 
to go up stairs, let her consider bow much that 
is to be done she can accomplish with once going 
there, and so of everything else. A great deal 
cau be done by plauniug work to make it easy. 
She who has arranged in her mind a little pro¬ 
gramme of her work and goes at it systematically, 
will accomplish, with half the fatigue what, taken 
at random, might he entirely beyond her strength. 
Children can be trained so as to save their 
mother's steps, and by setting and deal ing away 
tables, putting their own toys and belongings in 
place, do very much to lighten the toils of their 
mothers. 
DOMESTIC RECIPES. 
To Keep Lemons Fresh .—Lemons may be 
kept sweet and fresh for weeks by placing them 
iu a clean, tight cask and covering with water. 
Keep iu a cool place and change tho water every 
other day. To those living where it is not 
always convenient to proenre fresh lemons the 
above is worth remembering. 
Summer Mince Pie .—Four crackers, one and 
one-half cups of sugar, one cup ot molasses, one 
cup ot cider, two-tliirds of a cup of butter, one 
cup of chopped raisins, one-half cup of currants, 
two eggs well beaten and stirred in, the last 
thing; spice to the taste. 
Jj&rwn Pie. -One lemon, two-thirds of a cup 
of sugar, two eggs, three tablespoons of flour, 
ouc cup of milk. Grate tho rind, then add tho 
juice, the yelk of tlie egg, sugar and Hour, leav¬ 
ing the milk until the last. Liue the deep tiua 
with paste, place in tho oven to brown before 
iilling, then add the custard. When cooked 
spread over the top tho whites of two eggs 
beaten to a froth, with four tablespoons of pow- 
dorod sugar and return to the oven to brown. 
Cream Cole. —One-half pound of sugar, one- 
half pound of Horn-, one-fourth of a pound ot 
butter, three eggs, one-half of a cup of water, 
one teasi>oonful of baking powder, or oue-half 
of a teaspoon of soda and one of cream tartar. 
To be baked in three layers. 
Cream .—Ouc pint ot" milk, ono tablespoonful 
of corn starch, oue egg. Sweeten and flavor to 
the taste. Lot the cake get cold, but spread 
the cream on while warm. 
Lime in Refrigerators, —Freeh, unslaked 
lime in small quantities placed iu refrigerators 
will absorb much of tho moisture thereby 
rendering the atmosphere dry so that meat and 
other articles, sensitive to moisture, may be kept 
sweet and fresh for some days. A little ex¬ 
perience will enable one to know how much lime 
to use, and when to renew it. 
Green Corn Pudding .—Twelve ears of corn 
gratod, two quarts of milk, four well-beaten 
eggs, one teacup and a half of sugar; mix and 
bake in a buttered dish ; bake three hours. 
Sweet coru ahould be used. 
Washing Cambrics .—Black pepper, I have 
found, would prevent the colors from running 
in black and white or brown cambrics. A table¬ 
spoonful, stirred into the first water, is sufficient, 
and it in no way injures the water. 
Emily Maple. 
luguttit Information. 
TAKE A NAP. 
I wonder if the mothers who read this column 
from week to week, and who are so interested in 
all that pertains to the attractions and comforts 
of the domestic hearth—who welcome every 
concoction to please the palate, or with ready 
hand apply themselves to the manufacture of 
new and fanciful ornaments, to render home 
more charmiDg and beautiful—ever stop to con¬ 
sider how long the strength to accomplish all 
this will last, if they just push on, regardless of 
the importance of giving themselves a daily rest, 
a “ little nap,” aside from the night s repose, to 
which tiled nature is rightfully entitled. I have 
before advocated a system, a rule, for the per¬ 
formance of domestic duty—a plan marked out 
each morning for the varied branches of employ¬ 
ment to which the manager of a home has to 
devote herself each day. If one has been ac¬ 
customed to take these duties at random, and 
has been tempted to systematize and go about 
this matter with some kind of order and regular¬ 
ity, and found how much more could he accom¬ 
plished than by the old plan, she will find that 
the matter is not brought to perfection yet. 
A great assistance to the mother, or whoever 
has in charge the domestic machinery, is a short 
sleep in the middle of the day. Drop all care, 
steal away, just for a little while, and give the 
weary muscles and brain, and perhaps tho un¬ 
strung norves a rest. Rost! the very thought of 
it is comfortable! How it does Lighten tho 
cares and facilitate the duties of the afternoon ! 
How much more easily we can carry tho burdens 
that seem to accumulate as the day declines! 
The little ones are returning from school to a 
mother's attention. Tho market man is here, 
and wo must make our list for the morrow’s 
wants, Biddy needs directions in tho kitchen, 
and we must see that all parts of the house are 
quiet and settled in order. 
How lresh and invigorated we feel to go about 
all this and a thousand other trifles that are the 
routine of every-day duties, when we have re¬ 
freshed ourselves with an hour's sleep at mid¬ 
day. Do not say you cannot spare the time, for 
you are gaining time by it. You will surely last 
longer. You will be spared longer to the loved 
ones around you, if you will only spare yoursolf. 
They will need your care for many years yet, 
and to this end yon must be economical of your 
health and strength. Lay in store sufficient vim 
by a daily sleep to balance daily waste, and so 
keep up the average. A nice little nap is bo re¬ 
freshing! It recuporates the exhausted ener¬ 
gies, and tho last half of the day’s duties are as 
pleasant as the first. 
--- 
TWO MEALS A DAY. 
Looking over a last year’s Rural, I lit upon 
“ Dio Lewis on Wholesome Food,” whose bill of 
fare I heartily indorse, but whose talks on eating 
nothing after dinner 1 do not indorse—not that 
I'm given to much eating, but I’ve been there 
and know “ how it is mysolt.” When the diet 
reform was at its bight iu the vicinity wherein 1 
dwelt, I manifested my reformatory spirit by 
adopting the “ two-meal systembut alas! my 
body would not conform to the spirit. Half of 
tho first night I went without my supper, I 
spent in deep sympathy with the heroeB aud he¬ 
roines who suddenly flud themselves “ east away 
on barren islands, with only the brazen buu 
o’erhead, the burning sand beneath, and not a 
morsel of food wherewith to alleviate their ex¬ 
cruciating hunger;" the other half in feverish 
dreams of tempting feasts and luxurious ban¬ 
quets, upon which I was permitted to gaze, but 
in which, like Tantalus of old, I was not per¬ 
mitted to participate. Iu the morning I arose 
with too much “ goneness ” to take part iu the 
Bolemn duties of life. Being an early riser, I 
waited two hours for my breakfast, when I went 
to the table with tho inward feelings of a reven- 
ing wolf ; devoured one aud one-half quarts of 
“mush,” one and one-half pints of milk, one- 
half pound of sugar, and went through the day 
with a heavy load in my heart and stomach and 
no relish for dinuer, in consequence of which 
the programme of the preceding night was re¬ 
peated with additions. I began the next day 
with a determination to restrain my carnal ap¬ 
petite with a slight breakfast, but wound up 
with a pound of beef, a dozen potatoes, a quar¬ 
ter of cabbage, and three slices of bread and 
butter, which nearly wound me up, for the next 
day I was too sick “ for anything,” with no ap¬ 
petite “ to speak of.” 
I grow billious, dyspeptic, weak, and nervous. 
Non-reformatory friends said, “Why do you 
starve yourself in this way ? Is there some dis¬ 
ease that you are trying to starve out, or are 
you trying to starve yourself out?" But the 
spirit of Reform whispered, “Never say die!' 
and I kept on in this way, with slight interludes 
aud variations, for two years, when I made up 
my mind that I was on the wrong track, that 
the body required a certain amount of food 
whenever the supply was used up, whatever the 
spirit might say to the contrary. I reformed 
back again, by taking a cup of bread and milk, 
or a bit of bread aud fruit for my supper, and 
recovered. 
That the old-time suppers of pork, vegetables, 
and corn-bread have become nearly obsolete, is 
cause for thanksgiving, and that plethoric per¬ 
sons, of full, easy habits, can very comfortably 
dispense with the third meal, I do not doubt; 
but to condensed people, of active, nervous tem¬ 
perament, it is trying to run the engine without 
a proper supply of fuel with which to keep up 
the steam. And to say that everybody must 
do the same thing, is to say that somebody must 
suffer for tho violation of the laws of their being. 
No two persons are alike, either in soul, mind, 
or body; and as to hygienic theories and 
preaching, it behooves everyone to sift the dog- 
maB of the day, to “ hold fast to that which is 
good” for himself, and let the rest go to some¬ 
body else. And I want to whisper to those of 
blind faith that those reformatory, hygienic, 
water-cure, vegetarian doctors are very much 
like other preachers and M. Da., they seldom, if 
ever, follow their own proscriptions, or take their 
own medicines. 
In one “institution," with which I am some¬ 
what acquainted, and which advertises itself to 
be “ the greatest in the world,” and whose ruling 
spirit is a voluminous writer on the righteous¬ 
ness and benefits of a purely vegetable diet, a 
“ help,” who had been head cook in his private 
residence, was expatiating on the prohibition of 
animal food. 
“ Of course," I said, “ he wouldn’t be guilty 
of eating it himaelf ?” 
“ Oh, yea; he has his beefsteak nearly every 
morning for breakfast.” 
“ I’m surprised!” 
“So was I, and at a good many other things I 
have heard preached here aud found so little 
practiced.” 
In another instanoo tho ruling hobby was but¬ 
ter. “Whoever would truly reform himself, 
follow tho laws of hygiene, bid avaunt to tho 
horrors of dyspepsia, and enjoy the buttered 
side of life, must have no buttered side to his 
bread.' 
“Yes," said a ‘help,’ but he oats it himself at 
nearly every meal." 
“ What! tho Doctor ?” 
“Oh, yes; he says it is necessary for him — 
his system requires it.” 
Geraldine Gurmane. 
FUNERALS AS DISEASE FEEDERS. 
The Board of Health of this city declares a 
public or church funeral of any person who has 
died of scarlet fever, diphtheria, measles or 
whooping cough dangerous to the lives of such 
as may attend who have not had tho disease, and 
requires the family to limit the attendance to as 
few as possible, aud to prevent the presence, so 
far as they are able, of those who have not had 
the disease of which deceased person died, and 
to disinfect tho room in which docoased person 
was and tho body of deceased person and the 
clothing and bedding used during tho Bickucss. 
The Board also advises the use of scaled wooden 
or metallic coffins when the family can afford the 
expense. 
Thsro is good reason to believe that disease is 
occasionally disseminated through the medium 
of funerals. We have at least ono fairly authen¬ 
ticated iustance in this country of diphtheria 
being diffused broadcast through the crowding 
incideut, occasionally, to the last ceremony. For- 
tuuatoly this question is beginning to receive 
much attention, aud several cases have been re¬ 
ported of late, where the transmission of the 
disease from the corpse seemed highly probable. 
The Suffolk District Medical Society sent out 400 
circulars to medical practitioners, with a view 
to ascertain the opinion of tho profession on the 
alleged danger of permitting public funerals of 
persons who had died from diphtheria. Two 
hundred and thirty-nine answers were received; 
of these 143 writers express a belief iu the pos¬ 
sible danger of contagion at funerals; 17 believe 
that there is danger from funerals in the houses 
of the dead, but none iu churches; 29 fancy 
that iu the present state of knowledge there is 
no justification in prohibiting public funerals, 
and 8 record circumstances which occurred^ in 
their own experience confirmatory of the propo¬ 
sition that peril may ensue; hut the testimony 
these latter advance is not quite satisfactory. 
The society, after due consideration, recommend 
that funerals at the houses of those who have 
died of diphtheria should be private, owing to 
possible exposure to the poison of the disease. 
-*-*-•-- 
REMEDY FOR POISON IVY. 
Dissolve sugar of lead—a hit the size of a 
hazelnut—in half a teacup of sweet milk or warm 
water. Apply as warm as can be easily borne 
with a soft, liuty piece of linen rag. Three or 
3 
