Aim. 40 
THE 
ER. 
144 
BRIC-A-BRAC. 
THE HOTEL VERANDA. 
JUST ArTEE THE ARRIVAL OF THE SATURDAY 
NIGHT BOAT. 
Why! How d’ye do? 
Can it be you ? 
When did you get here, pray ? 
You know you wrote. 
In your last note. 
You couldn’t get away. 
You look quite iU. 
(Nowdon’t! Be still! 
Don’t equeeze my hand! I’ll go !) 
You've heard! Heard what! 
Is it true, or not? 
Oh! that! How did you know ? 
Yea! I’ve said yes. 
To whom ? Just guess— 
I’ll tell you if you’re right— 
It isn’t out. 
But you, no doubt. 
Can keep it secret quite. 
What can you mean ? 
I might have seen ? 
Seen what I You never said— 
I couldn’t guess, 
I told him yes. 
You don’t wish you were dead. 
I met him here— 
No 1 Just this year. 
There, tbat’e his T cart—see ? 
Yes! 'tis quite swell. 
And the groom as well. 
There! that little man ? That’s he, 
I must not wait, 
I’ll be too late, 
He’s going to drive with me. 
I’ll meet youthen, 
On the piazza, when 
It’s dark, and he can’t see. [N. F. World. 
Didn't Writs It.—M abel Clare writes us the 
folio wing flattering lnqu lry; ’ ‘ Are you the author 
of that tender little ballad, ‘Darling Kiss My 
Eyelids DownT”’ We? We write such stuff as 
that? “ Kiss our eyelids down!” Mabel, thou art 
beside thyself; much reading hath made thee 
mad. “ Darllog, kiss our eyelids down ?” Now, 
Isn’t that a nice thing to accuse us of saying? 
Are we that devoid of intelligence! Mahel, don’t 
you trouble our eyelids when you have a fancy to 
perform any operation of that delicate and ten¬ 
der nature. We have a large, comfortable, 
roomy, flexible gash just below our nose that has 
bought county rights for all business of that na¬ 
ture that comes within the limits of our face, and 
any eyelid found Interfering or Infringing will be 
prosecuted to the extreme limit of the law. No, 
we didn’t write It .—Burlington Hawk-Eye. 
GOING TO PRESS. 
The foreman of a newspaper composing-room 
died sometime since. Just before his death he 
became conscious for a moment, and In that 
gleam dwelli ng upon the habit of hla life, he sud¬ 
denly exclaimed: “ The • ads ’ are all right, lock 
up the forms and let’s go to press.” 
Fellow man. a moment linger 
On the dying printer's speeoh; 
For it boa re a mighty lesson. 
Our unheeding hearts to teach. 
Day by day thou art composing 
What a universe shall read; 
Type to typo are ceaseless setting, 
As thou addest deed to deed. 
Soon the forms are locked forever. 
Changeless shall th’ impression be, 
Scan the proofs in time, O, printer. 
Thou art near eternity. 
Are the ' ads ’ all right, composer ? 
Art thou standing Justified ? 
Ready now for the Great Judgment. 
Its unfoldings to abide. 
So that now as night advances. 
Greet the unstaying pressman's call ; 
Then await the moru eternal. 
Publishing thy life to all. 
Georoe iv.’a extravagance and love of spending 
had no bounds, provided that it was not his own 
money that be spent. He always had money, 
although pretending at the time he hadn’t. 
A’hen he died there was found jcio,ooo in his 
boxes, and money scattered about everywhere, 
a great deal of gold. Thero were about 500 
pocketbooks, of different dates, and In every one 
money—guineas, one-pound notes, one, two or 
three In each. There never was anything like 
the quantity of trinkets and trash that was 
found. He had never glvon away or parted with 
anything. There was a prodigious quantity of 
hair—women’s hair—of all colors and lengths, 
some locks with the powder and pomatum still 
sticking to them, heaps of women's gloves, gages 
cl' amour which he had got at balls, and with the 
perspiration still marked on the fingers, notes and 
letters In abundance, but not much that was of 
any pollttcal consequence, and the wholo was de¬ 
stroyed. _ 
" Uuthlukiug, idlo, wild and young, 
I laughed, and danced, and talked and sung ; 
Aud proud of health, of freodom vain, 
Dreamed not of sorrow, care or pain ; 
Concluding, in thoee bourn of glee, 
That all the world waa made for me. 
But, when the hour of trial came. 
When aiolcnewe shook this trembling frame. 
When folly‘a gay pursuit* were o’er, 
And I could alng aud dance no more— 
It tnen occurred how Bad ’t would be 
Were this world only made for me,” 
The author Is the Princess Amelia, “ the dar¬ 
ling of George HI.," his youngest daughter. She 
died on the lath of November, 1810 . The event of 
her death has an additional Interest, because this 
was the last blow for her poor father, whose In- 
curable insanity is dated from his parting with 
her on her death-bed. 
The three degrees In medical treatment—Posi¬ 
tive, 111 ; comparative, pill; superlative, bill.— N. 
F. Medical Times. 
Jfot ISoiimt, 
COND TOTED BY MISS FAITH RIPLEY. 
Dear Rural.—T he following lineB were printed for 
me more than twenty years ago; in making up my 
scrap-book I find I have mislaid them. If they will 
answer for the columns of the Rural please reprint 
them, and oblige, m. w. 
TO A MOURNING DOVE. 
Sweet little birdie tell me why thou mourn’st so lone 
and long. 
Sad tears are gathering in my eyes, as I listen to thy 
song: 
Has thine own mate forsook thy bower, forever flown 
away, 
No more to sit beside thee, say, pretty mourner, aay ? 
Or else perchance thy little ones, so wondrous and so 
fair. 
Unmindful of thy warning voice, thy kind and foster¬ 
ing care: 
Far from thy soft and sheltering wing, now fain 
would seek to fly. 
To find a higher, happier home, in yonder azure sky. 
Ah. no, fair listening lady dear, thine anxious fears 
dispel, 
’Tis nature’s song of gratitude, my little throat doth 
swell: 
From rosy morn till dewy eve, I thrill my mournful 
lay. 
And oheer my mate and little ones, all through the 
livelong day. 
-♦- 
MOTHER’S SUMMER VACATION. 
MRS. J. E. M’CONAUGHY. 
If every ono were as considerate towards wives 
and mothers as Mr. Marvin’s folks were, they 
would last a great deal longer, and be happier 
women while they did live. 
The last hired man had gone, and “the work 
of the reaper was done.” and none too early, fa¬ 
ther thought, as he noticed how weary and worn 
his wife looked as they sat at the breakfast table 
the next morning. 
“Ill tell you what we shall have to do for 
mother, children,” he said; “ we must pack her off 
to Aunt Susan’s for a week. That wlU chirk her 
up.” 
There was silence tor a minute at this startling 
proposal, for mother was not of a kind that could 
be easily spared. Then Bertie bravely said, 
“I’m agreed.” 
“So am I,”said Lewis, rather faintly. 
“Yes, mother, go,” said Bessie,—who was ‘the 
main spoke in the wheel,’—as father always as¬ 
serted. If Bes3le waa willing, then surely nobody 
could reasonably object. 
“You know,father,”said Mrs. Marvin, remon- 
stratlvely, “ that Bessie has always been used to 
having me go ahead with the cooking.” 
“ So she always will, mother, if you don’t cast 
her on her own oars some time. If our nlneteen- 
year-old daughter can't keep us In provender ror 
one week, I’ll get the neighbors to send in some¬ 
thing, or maybe, I could got ouo of the Fisher girls 
to come over and help," bo added, with a mis¬ 
chievous glance towards Bessie. 
That young lady gave a slight upward sec to 
her chin, and did not condescend .to notice the 
glance that passed between the two brothers. 
Rob Fisher had been 11 shining around ” there, as 
he boys expressed It, considerably of late. But 
nobody found any fault, for he was as likely a 
young man, and hla farm “ as pretty a-lytng 
piece of land ” as you could And In the whole 
countryside. 
“ Well, Bessie, yon and mother talk the matter 
over,” said the farmer, as he took down his broad 
straw hat; “ you coax her Into the plan.” 
“ I would go, mother,” said Bessie, as she step¬ 
ped about briskly, clearing the table. 
“ But I have no dresses suttable, Bessie." 
What woman ever did go anywhere without 
first making one dress at least? We need not 
laugh at “them,” for quite likely you and 1 be¬ 
long to the same class, some cynic even goo 3 so 
far as to say that If all the women In the country 
were sentenced to be hung the next day, nine- 
tenths of them would declare the first thing, 
“ There, l haven't a dress flt to be hung in!” 
We are, In a way, all or us Flora McFllmsles In 
our own estimate a3 to whether our ward-robes 
are overflowing, or are In the state of Mother 
Hubbard’s cupboard. 
“Wear my gray bourette, mother, for travel¬ 
ling. It will flt you nicely, unless it la a little too 
long. Then take my nice cambric for afternoons, 
and your own black silk for church. There, you 
are fixed out In half a minute, aud not a penny 
outlay. Don’t you see what a good thing it la to 
have a grown-up girl as large as yourself and a 
little larger 7 ” 
“Do you really believe you could get along?” 
said mother, half musingly, as she looked at the 
young woman, who waa her “ little girl ” still, and 
would bo for nineteen years more. 
“Try me, and see,"said Bessie, laughing’; “you 
don’t know what experiments I shall try in the 
ooo king line. When the cat’s away, you know 
how it Is with the mice. Leave me a full sugar- 
box and splce-box, if you please." 
"You must not pamper the children with too 
high living,"cautioned mother, laughingly, “or 
they may want to have mother extend her visit. 
But we will study over the project at our leisure, 
to-day. I really should like to visit Aunt St em.” 
So the matter was Anally adjusted. Of course 
mother saw a hundred lions In the way, but the 
family 3et themselves to work to remove them 
one by one. 
Aunt Susan welcomed her with wide-opened 
arms, and took her to the blue chamber, where 
she had slept so often in girlhood. There was 
much to talk of and tell on both sides, though 
Aunt Susan’s quiet household consisted only of 
herself and a little servlng-mald. 
The house was a tasteful, cozy cottage tn a 
beautiful elm-shaded street, and as the two 
ladles sat at twilight on the Tine-shaded piazza 
in the coziest of Quaker rookera, Mrs. Marvin 
could hardly believe that she was the same hard¬ 
working woman, who had cooked and baked that 
summer time for a houseful of working men. The 
fresh cambric seemed so dainty and cool, and the 
blissful rest so delightful! What a good thought 
it was of father! If he would only do the same 
for himself! She would Just see to that when 
she got home 
Bessie had protested against her taking any 
sewing, but mother said she must take her knlt- 
tlng-work, or she should be home tn two days. 
So they compromised on the knitting question, 
and mother had to send out and buy more yarn 
the third day. 
“ If you can only content yourself a little while, 
dear, you will get your family supplied for all 
winter,” said Aunt Susan. Her own enthusiasm 
waa awakened, seeing Mrs. Marvin’s needles fly 
so fast, so she Joined In the business and they 
had regular knitting bees every day. Old friends 
dropped tn often, and one afternoon Auntie had 
a real old-fashioned quilting, which seemed to re¬ 
new her youth, and took Mrs. Marvin hack at 
least twenty years in her own history. 
It was a visit to be forever remembered, but 
no entreaties could prevail on her to stay over 
the set time. More and more the query would 
come up, “ How are they getting along at home ?” 
and she felt that nothtng would answer tne ques¬ 
tion but actually seeing. 
Father and little Dick were at the depot, smil¬ 
ing and watching anxiously, until at last 
mother appeared with “little box, big box, band- 
box end bundle,” for Auntie was a famous hand 
at never forgetting anybody. 
Mother was the center of attraction that even¬ 
ing, and was hung over and kissed and talked to 
as sho had not been in half a dozen years. It was 
a good tiling to go away once In a while Just for 
the pleasure of the home coming. She had, down 
deep In her heart, however, the feeling that “ the 
best of a journey Is getting home,” for there 
was where her treasures were. The glft3 were 
distributed and gave a world of delight to the 
little folks. Little Dick said, as he nestled close 
to mammas side, “Next time you go, I want 
you to take me.” 
- ■■■+»» 
Grasses are easily arranged in many beautiful 
forms. Now, that many sorts are In bloom In the 
meadows and fields, Is a good time to collect 
them. The accompanying cut needs no explana¬ 
tion—a wire platform extending up as high as 
taste suggests, with the grasses so arranged as 
to conceal the wire. 
-- 
ITEMS FOR CORRESPONDENTS. 
BY THE EDITOR. 
I acknowledge with thanks the following di¬ 
rections for the extermination of bed-bugs which 
some Rural ladles have been so kind as to fur¬ 
nish In reply to a question asked a week or two 
ago, through these columns. 
some one, signing herself a “ Rural Subscri¬ 
ber,” asks something relative to leather work 
hut 1 cannot gather from what the lady writes 
Just what she want3 to know. Is It how to orna¬ 
ment leather for a what- not ? 1 f the correspond¬ 
ent will write a little more explicitly, I shaU take 
pleasure In replying to her Inquiry. 
Ella Leslie, Yenango Co., Pa.—Trim your un¬ 
derskirt with a deep-platted flounce. I'd re¬ 
commend the “washer-woman” overskirt, and 
you can either have a basque and vest or a waist 
buttoned at the back, and ornamented with six 
plaits, back and front. 
I assure the aggrieved lady that I sympathized 
with her or any one afflicted with this pest. But 
I found out a certain preventive for future young 
families of hugs as well as the means of destroy¬ 
ing those which had already been established. 
Very salt water will set all right—sometimes with 
one application only. Pull the bedsteads apart 
and wash every lurking-place thoroughly, leav¬ 
ing the brine to dry on the bedsteads. Powder 
every available crack or Joint with tine salt, and 
All up any place with the salt that can be filled. 
Wash the corners of the mattresses with clean 
salt water, and let It dry on. Mrs. S. 
The only remedy I have ever used is the follow¬ 
ing: 2 ozs. oxalic acl l, l pint common whiskey. 
Keep corked lu a bottle ready lor use a few hours 
after mixing. It should he applied with a small 
paint brush. As It is a deadly poison care must 
be taken to keep it from children. 
An old housekeeper answers the query In a 
late Rural New-Yorker, “What will extermi¬ 
nate bed-bug3?” Removing Into an old house 
the bedsteads became Infested with bugs. Car¬ 
bolic acid soap was moistened and pressed Into 
some old screw holes of a mahogany bedstead, 
which could not be thoroughly cleaned, and 
proved entirely efficacious. Common bar soap 
was used for cottage sets of light colora and the 
spring frames, and no bug has since been found 
in the bedsteads, although occasionally one or 
two have been found deposited on the bedding— 
probably brought by guests. The house has for 
several years been entirely free from the pest. 
Coal-oil Is good, also corrosive sublimate dis¬ 
solved in alcohol, and applied with a feather, 
will kill them immediately. It is also good to 
put around the feet of a safe or cupboard to keep 
the ants out, but anyone using it must remember 
It is poison. Mrs. W. H. Carpenter. 
Warren Co., Ohio. 
Staining Wood.—T n the Rural New Yorker, 
page 340,1 and a request for a recipe tor staining 
wood. For black walnut stain, I simply use sul- 
phatum varnish, thinned with spirits of turpen¬ 
tine, and apply with a brush. It can be made 
light or dark as desired. f. h. d. 
Some one wants a cure for bed-bugs. I Bend 
this, which 1 will warrant. Wash the bedstead 
and wall, if the bed stands against It, with cold 
salt water (March Is the proper time), then oil 
with any soft oil—lamp-oil is best. 
Mrs. J. C. Collins. 
Use clean lard. Tut it in every crack and 
crevice of bedsteads, walls or washboards. Take 
the bedsteads apart and fill the mortices lull— 
whatever squeezes out can be wiped off. Cover 
every greasy part with thicknesses of newspaper 
to keep the bedding from getting soiled. Leave 
the lard in one year, to insure all eggs to be 
killed. It may have to be renewed several times 
as It dr a away. This Is not as expensive as cor¬ 
rosive sublimate, and i.i a perfect remedy. 
Corrosive sublimate In turpentine, put on with 
a feather, is a sure remedy. One ounce to one 
pint turpentine. wm. h. m. 
L 
