THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
287 
BRIC-A-BRAC. 
Ship-bred— Sailors. 
Made of awl-work—Shoes. 
Evening prefers—Burglars. 
Slat-ride—A cavalry charge. 
Good name for a wood-cutterHugh. 
“Beautiful lie of the Sea”—whale-oil. 
Blunt men sometimes say cutting things. 
Every dove has a cote, and every dog pants. 
An admirable illustration of the sternness of 
English conventionality is furnished in an anec¬ 
dote about a young lady who attended the last re¬ 
ception held by Queen Victoria at Buckingham 
Palace. This young lady Was horrlttcd at being 
approached by one of the functionaries, who in¬ 
formed her that her hair was coming down. She 
explained that her hair was not coining down at 
all, but that a cokffmr had expressly dressed it la 
that manner. “Put it up,” was the order; and 
she was compelled to do so. A species of super¬ 
vision is exorcised over each lady who enters, to 
see if there is anything In her costume that 
transgresses the rules. 
TO BAYARD TAYLOR. 
To-day, to thee two nations stretch their bands; 
The palms of one, down bent and closing, tell 
Of Love’s distress at Duty’s forced farewell; 
The other beckoning’, open-palmed, demands 
Exultantly thy coming. Prideful stands 
Thy Guild beside thee. Simultaneous swell. 
With not a single uimccordant bell. 
The chimes of two benignant Brother-kunls, 
In pcBim each. To thoo thy own hath said: 
“ We can to thee uo plenary powers impart 
Already arc not tbiuo. Envoy thou art, 
‘ Extraordinary ’ by culture, to the bead. 
. ‘ Plenipotent ’ by nature to the heart,— 
By every grace to every Grace * accredited ’ 1” 
[Springfield Bepublican 
Poet's Corner, Westminster Abbey, is not so 
much of a poets’ corner as It Is popularly sup¬ 
posed to be. The remains of Shakespeare, Mil¬ 
ton, Shelley, Byron, Wordsworth, Elizabeth Bar¬ 
rett Browning, Fletcher, Pope, Gray, Cowper, 
Keata,;c:olerldge, Marvell, Thomson, Collins, Gold¬ 
smith, Orubbe, Mrs. Hemans, Marlowe, Beau¬ 
mont, Herbert, William Browne, Vaughan, Wal¬ 
ler, Herrick, Shenstone, Chatterton, Tlood, Moore, 
Southey, Leigh Hunt and Kemble do riot repose 
there. Burns was burled at Dumfries, and Scott 
at Dryburgh Abbey. When one thinks of the mul¬ 
titude of England's singing birds, It Is rather the 
exception than otherwise to find a poet burled in 
the abbey. It la true that lu Poets’ Corner are 
burled Addison, Jonson, Macaulay, and Lord Lyt- 
ton, and they all wrote more or less poetry. But 
they were not, stilctly speaking, poets. It is 
their prose writings that have gained them their 
reputation with mankind. 
“ BUCKET VERSUS BOTTLE.” 
Suggested by Samuel Woodworths’ Poem, “ The 
Bucket." 
Athirst, in my^dreamiug, I sought for the bucket, 
Immortalized now by the pen and the press, 
I found it still hung in the well of the poet, 
Away on the akirt.M of the vast wilderness : 
" The old oaken bucket, the rrou-bound bucket,” 
Away on the skirts of the vast wilderness. 
A hand in my dronni, seem'd to hold out a bottle 
And tempt me to drink ; but the tempter was 
screen'd: 
" Resist |” was the word, and the power came with it 
And splash went the bucket and oft flew the fiend: 
" The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,” 
Aud splash went the bucket, and off flew the fiend. 
’Twist hurry and skurry, he let fall Ins bottle, 
Which dash'd into fragments, the liijuor dispers’d: 
Au emblem, methought, of the ruin that follows, 
When man to the bottle resorts in his thir st, 
Aud not to the bucket, the health-giving bucket, 
When mau to the bottle resorts in his thirst. 
Then come to the bucket, and fill up your glasses. 
And turn not away from the drift of the dream; 
Tbore's death In the bottle, however atttactive, 
And life in the bucket, whate'er it may seem; 
" The old oaken bucket, the iron bound bucket, 
'I he moes-covered bucket," whate'er it may seem. 
Wit is sometimes of good service to the states¬ 
men or diplomatist. When Queen Elizabeth tlrst 
proposed to imfoe, the famous olvlllau, to employ 
him on a diplomatic mission to Flanders, she told 
him among other things, that he should have 
twenty shillings a day for his expenses, which at 
one tlmo was thought a liberal allowance. 
“ TheD, your Highness,” said the doctor, “ I will 
spend nineteen sldlltnga a day in your Majesty’s 
service.” “ What will you do with the odd shil¬ 
ling 7” said the queen. “ Oh, 1 will reserve that 
for my wife and two children.” This answer had 
the effect Intended, and a considerable increase 
was made la 1 Mb allowance. Notwithstanding this, 
lie was pressed tor money during his stay In Flan¬ 
ders, and thought of a novel plan to got a supply ; 
he sent In a packet to the Secretary of State two 
letters: one addressed to the Queen and the 
other to hta wife, which ho misdirected, so that 
the letter to his wife was addressed “ 'To her most 
excellent Majesty,” and that to the Queen in¬ 
scribed “ To his dear wifo.” The Queen, having 
opened the letter, was surprised to find It, begin¬ 
ning with “ Sweetheart ” and afterward Inter¬ 
larded with “ my dear,” “ my love," and other 
affectionate expressions. It concluded with re. 
questing her to be very economical, for he could 
send her nothing, as he was very short of money, 
and could not think of trespassing on the bounty 
of her Majesty any further. Whether the queen 
suspected the trick, or believed in his necessities, 
Is not certain, but au Immediate supply of money 
was sent both to the doctor and his family. 
$or Momett, 
[CONDUCTED BY MISS FAITH RIPLEY. 
DRAWN! 
This is a lady’s sketching book, 
Left carelesB in her favorite nook, 
For any person who comes to find. 
This is the landscape, looking hence; 
This thing is probably a fence; 
And—am I blind ?— 
A portrait! Seems to me I’ve met 
The gentleman before—and yet 
I can not know this fearful guy. 
And yet—this coat—those trousers—that 
Dilapidated Alpine hat— 
By Jove, it’s I! 
I really was not aware 
I was so very short of hair— 
And such an overpoworing forehead ! 
And it may be that is my nose. 
Peculiar, very ! I suppose 
She calls me “ horrid." 
Who is she, then, this artist fay 
Who makes the hapless poet her prey, 
Whom woodland solitude allures; 
Who, under pretext of a sketch. 
The unsnsi iclous, wandering wretch 
Caricatures f 
What saucy little fingers deft 
These misused pages thus have left 1 
And did she know this was my path ? 
1 wished that she would venture near; 
She has no special cause to fear 
My righteous wrath. 
I am not very fair to see, 
But for all that, sweet, I may ba 
A little wise—a trifle witty. 
And I can only hope that you 
Are very sweet and very true. 
And very pretty. 
Borne day, just as I’m strolling now. 
I’ll meet you; and 1 hereby vow 
I’ll make you, ere I let you by me, 
Raise that—presumably— fair head 
While I from lips I know are red 
Indemnify me. [P uc/c. 
TOBACCO. 
STARR MORIS, 
Although reform Is the order of the day hardly 
anything Is said against the alcnostunlversal use oi 
tobacco nor of its deleterious effects upon the hu¬ 
man system. Occasionally some Temperence 
lecturer Includes It among the stimulants to 
be avoided, but os a general rule, the pernicious 
habit Is passed by in silence. 
In the Popular Science Monthly of November 
1874, there was a paper by Mr, France Terry 
Fairchild In which he gave with great minute¬ 
ness, the details, of his investigation or the ef¬ 
fect. of tobacco upon himself. Godey, of the La¬ 
dles’ Book, in his review of the article, says, “men 
are Inclined to believe that the opposition to 
Bmoklng Is a woman’s notion, but Mr. Francis T. 
Fairchild Is a well-known and celebrated pro¬ 
fessional man, and bis Investigations were con¬ 
ducted In a moat careful and rigorous manner. 
We have not space for detail: sufficient to say 
that tremor, sleeplessness, bad dreams, crav¬ 
ing for stimulants, and general 111 health, always 
attended the use of tobacco, and always disap¬ 
peared a few days after the cessation of the 
habit” 
Mr. Godey further remarks “ The disagreea¬ 
ble effeols upon the senses of others, produced 
by the tobacco-user, It may be In vain to Insist 
upon.” 
Aud this la the point to which I wish to draw 
attention: the effects produced upon those 
who are In dose contact with the tobacco-user. 
For I have had an experlenco so unexpected and 
startling, that, l should like to give it to the 
readers of the Rural, premising only that that 
of which 1 write occurred before Mr. Fairfield’s 
Investigations were published, so I was not in¬ 
fluenced ifl any manner by anything I had 
read. 
I had for a long time been troubled with what 
I called terrible nights, nights spent with wide 
opeu staring »yes, or If I slept at all, my sleep 
was ailed with such fearful di earns that I lelt 
as Job did, when he said “Thou terrlflest me 
with visions.” The trouble culminated after a 
a short Illness that had left me la a weak, ner¬ 
vous state. Then terrors took hold of me aud 
my life became a burden. However quiet and 
peaceful my days and evenings wero, as soon as 
1 retired and fell asleep, the most dreadfull 
terrors assail me. I was plunging off a precipice 
down, down, Into utter darkness, or I was being 
crushed under a railroad train, or I was drifting, 
alone In an open boat, la the wide ocean at the 
mercy of tbe wind and tide. Hugo monsters of the 
deep threatened to drown me; the dreadful sea- 
serpent lifted his awful head over me and pierced 
me with tils sinister eyes. The clouds dark with 
tempest closed down around mo, while forked 
lightning lit up the awful scene. 
Horrible forms sunouuded and crowded upon 
mo, fluuils seemingly from Dante’s Inferno leered 
and Jeered and threatened me, until I awoke 
bathed In a cold sweat and trembling with fright 
to spend the rest of the night trying to assure 
myself that It was only a dream. 
These experiences wore all the more strange 
as 1 am not timid but am naturally strong and 
courageous. Physicians were consulted, anodynes 
were prescribed but without effect. 
” The nights, Just like the ui^ht before 
In terror passed away: 
Nor did the Demons vanish hence, 
Until the break of day. 
I noticed that sometimes, when away from 
home, I slept well and so concluded that some¬ 
thing was amiss with my sleeping room. I re¬ 
papered and painted It, but found no relief ex¬ 
cept at short intervals, occasionally. 
At length we changed our pi ace of residence 
and for some months I slept like a child and con¬ 
gratulated myself that I had left the cause of 
all my trouble In our distant home. 
When upon retiring one night, tired and sleepy, 
all the old terrors returned and Oh! the horrors 
of that night I cannot describe. 
In tbe morning, while thinking over what I had 
suffered the past night, I suddenly remembered 
that once, when I turned to my husband for sym¬ 
pathy I noticed a faint odor of tobacco on bis 
breath. The .cause of all my trouble flashed In 
an Instant upon me. 
My husband Is rather orrattc In his habit of 
smoking ; sometimes smoking a great deal and 
then not smoking at all for weeks or months, a 3 
the notion takes him, and I knew that he had not 
smoked for some time past. Upon Inquiry, he 
said he had smoked the evening before. Here, 
then was a revelation. The odor of tobacco when 
Inhaled from his breath, had tbe Bame effect upon 
me that opium has upon othei-3, with this excep¬ 
tion, that their sensations are sometimes of a 
pleasureable nature, while mine were of the op¬ 
posite character. 
Now I do not dislike the odor of tobacco. In¬ 
deed, I rather like the smell of a good cigar and 
never thought of attributing my trouble to than 
Upon comparing notes with my husband I found 
that in every Instance, as far as we could recol¬ 
lect, my troublesome nights corresponded with 
his seasons of smoking—my restful ones with his 
abstinence from It. 
To convince ourselves we tried experiments 
and found Invariably, that the same cause pro¬ 
duced the same effect. He, being rather incredu¬ 
lous, would sometimes smoke away from home 
and keep at a respectful distance after his return. 
I would retire unconscious that he had done so, 
only to spend the night In misery. 8o the habit 
was abandoned with some reluctance on his part 
I will admit, but with good results for me. 1 can 
count the time, not by weeks or months, but 
years, In which my sleep has been restful and 
quiet, undisturbed by the phantoms of a diseased 
brain. Now, it inbaling the odor of tobacco from 
the user’s breath produced such an effect on a 
strong, robust person, what may not bo Its effect 
on delicate women and children 7 
We arc called a nation of nervous Invalids, and 
this Is true of a large proportion of our women, 
and may not the causo be traced, lu some mea¬ 
sure, to Uie almost universal use of tobacco by 
husbands and fathers? It Is said that the care of 
the life and health of the men of the family are 
entrusted to the women of the household ; and 
that the women should be able to persuade their 
sons to abstain rrom all stimulants, as a rule of 
healthy life. I am afraid that It would he hard to 
persuade them against the constant example of 
their f c tiers. 
It also may be said that some foreign nations 
smoke Immoderately, and yet their women are 
healthy. 1 think It might also be said that the 
women of those nations spend most of their time 
In the open air and In many Instances occupy 
separate slecpLng-rooms. 
Leaving this question for others to discuss, I 
will only say that If my experience gives some 
poor, feeble, sleepless sister a hint to profit by, 
I shall feel amply repaid. 
AUNT SUSAN’S EXPERIENCE IN DOOR- 
YARDS. 
B. C. D. 
There was au old-fashioned quilting at Mr. 
Jones’, and the farmers wives from far and near 
were gathering In. Aunt Susan Brown seated at 
one corner of the quilt beamed a kindly welcome 
on each arrival, in spite of her sixty years she 
was a general favorite. Presently a young farm¬ 
er’s wife whose face was marked with lines of 
care, and whose brown hands betokened hard 
labor, passed around and seated herself next to 
“Aunt Susan,” greeting her with a wistful smile 
as if longing for a word of sympathy. While they 
were nearly alone In their corner, the younger 
woman said, “ Now that l have a chance I wish 
to ask you how you manage to have such a nice 
dooryard. It Is always a treat to me to pass your 
house and look at your plants and flower beds. 
I long so for such surroundings. WUen we moved 
on our place six years ago, I cold John that the 
mustard and pig-weed m the trout yard made me 
feel homesick. He said that after this aud that 
Improvement was made, he would fix up every¬ 
thing in the yard in good shape, and he meant to, 
but so many things came along, one after an¬ 
other that must be do ue, that i seem just as far 
as ever from having wliat I prize so much. 
Something seems wanting In my life. You know 
that I have two small children and do my own 
work, and It seems nice too great an effort to at¬ 
tempt anything alone. So 1 thought I would ask 
you how you had succeeded so well." “I think 
1 can help you said Aunt Susan Ueartlly. “ When 
we started ou our farm years ago It was a dreary 
looking place. We only had a zig-zag rail fence 
around tho house and garden, very poor at that, 
and 1 knew my husband had enough to do with 
looklog after his crops, so 1 was left to my owu 
devices, 1 Had noticed that nearly’ every one 
failed by undertaking too much; they wanted a 
great many varieties of every sort, in iking In 
short a disagreeable hobby of their flowers 
So 1 began moderately, first with a single root 
of red peony, and a damask rose-bush. I kept the 
sod away from the roots and gave them the ben¬ 
efit of fertilizing earth, from the barn-yard, and 
If 1 could only carry a spadefull a day—I always 
tried to do as much as that. The next year I ad¬ 
ded one or two more to my stock, but never more 
than I could keep in flue condition. I often had 
to let some of my sewing or housework go to at¬ 
tend to things m the garden, but it paid me In the 
end In health and enjoyment. I set out some 
phlox and honey-suckle between the currant 
bushes, and they grew and bloomed to my heart’s 
content. The former owner had left a huge pile 
of stones, near the front gate, which troubled me 
a great deal unWl I thought of turning it to ac¬ 
count. I took c ff the atones from tho cop, filled 
the hollow space with dirt, and sowed flower 
seeds In it, and when they came to blossom It 
was no longer unsightly, but on the contrary 
very ornamental. I worked In this way slowly, 
but by the time my oldest boy was large enough 
to help me I had quite an array of blossoms, 
which all the family have since taken pride In 
keeping in order. But when a common practical 
farmer like your Husband and mine, will, after 
doing the regular farm work In his line, take In¬ 
terest enough In a door-yard or flower garden, to 
do much work there, he Is too perfect a specimen 
for tuts world. We women who love the beauti¬ 
ful must take the first steps to gratify that love 
and we must hold fast to our innocent and elevat¬ 
ing tastes, or else In the hurrying cares of life, 
they will never be gratified. If we are sneered at 
or ridiculed, for wasting our time on things which 
have no money value we heed not argue the case, 
only work right on silently and persistently. Men 
grow to prize the beautiful things by seeing them 
and will often then lend a helping hand without 
being Invited to do so. I see you get my idea.” And 
Aunt Susan had the satisfaction of aeelug her 
younger friend leave her side with a brighter ex¬ 
pression of hope than she had worn of late, and 
she doubted not that|the good seeds she had sown 
would in the future bear “abundant fruit.” 
-♦ ♦ ♦- 
A PLEA FOR THE MINISTER'S WIFE. 
grandmother. 
I have been thinking a good deal lately about 
ministers and their wives. Perhaps the reason Is 
that the wives wear out so soon. I have seen 
women who, only a little while ago, were young, 
blooming brides, grow pale and thin, and look as 
careworn as women of fifty, while their husbands 
were youug and bonnle as ever. I do not believe 
that a real healthy minister’s wife can be found 
In all New England; that Is, after they have been 
married half a dozen years. 1 think they are an 
abused class of humanity. Who cares how hard 
they have to work? No purses are ever made 
up to send them on European tours. Who ever 
thinks of the unending stream of visitors that are 
forever goiog to the mlnlsier'a, to visit and call, 
not counting every minister that comes to make 
a hotel of the parsonage. Then the minister’s 
wife must attend every prayer aud conference 
meeting, in all parts of tbe town; she must be 
president or chairman of all the societies that are 
gotten up tor various charitable purposes; she Is 
expected to do her full amount of sewing for the 
Circle, and lu fact about three times as much 
work as any other woman In the town. 
Now, ii I were a minister’s wife (and I reckon It 
Is a nice arrangement for some people that I 
am not), I should rebel. If they expected me to 
work for the society and the church, I should 
have a salary; and If I did more work than the 
minister did, I should demand a salary accord¬ 
ingly. 
What right have a community to expect, or re¬ 
quire, all these things of a little. Inexperienced, 
delicat e woman 7 J ust because she happened to 
fall In love and marry a clergyman, Is It any rea¬ 
son why she should be made a slave, for tho con¬ 
venience of the people in nls charge ? Her hus¬ 
band works for the good of his church and society 
at large, aud ho has his pay for it. Why should 
not Ids wife have pay loo ? She might then be 
expected to have au outside Interest, and weU 
afford to hire her own work done. 
It Is all wrong to demand more from the minis¬ 
ter’s wife Chan from the deacon’s wife or the doc¬ 
tor’s wife. Does society expect these women to 
devote their time and strength outside of their 
homes and families? Oh no: but a minister’s 
wife is a different person entirely! She can do 
so much good! Pay her for tho good she does, I 
say; and remember that she Is mortal, and do 
not expect her to suffer martyrdom for the sake 
of the church and people. 
A CHEAP BUT PRETTY ORNAMENT. 
L. E. K. T. 
I saw a pretty cross the other day that perhaps 
some of the Rural girls would like to imitate. 
For the foundation, the pasteboard was rolled up 
and fastened lu hollow cylinders (such as are 
used to wrap pictures ou when shipping them.) 
The ends were closed with white paper. Letter 
paper was used for the one l saw, but if It had not 
been ruled it would have been prettier. A sheet 
of paper that had been doubled together and cut 
Into tine strips, to within a quarter of an Inch of 
each edge was then pressed out, doubled together 
and fastened around the cross with the cut part 
left rounding to give It a feathery appearance. 
These papers were fastened close together the 
feathery part of one overlapping the fastening of 
the one before It. At the crossing the fastenings 
were hidden by a rosette of tue cut paper, Tho 
cross was fastened to a firm foundation and was 
about eighteen Inches high. It was very dainty 
looking and many admired It. 
fP 
