872 
1H£ BORAS. ftSW-VORKER. 
DEC 22 
earth. Within an inclosure not far away, a 
snowy tablet is engraved with his name and 
age, and date of departure, but you do not 
think much about that. How proud you were 
of him, how you loved him, you feel that he 
knew and never would have misjudged you— 
your eyes are eyes no longer but depths of un¬ 
availing tears. 
Another face—it is bearded now—that of a 
little boy you played with years and years 
ago. childhood’s pride and king. But now 
when the eyes meet yours, indifferent and un¬ 
responsive, your heart throbs dull and hard 
at the thoughts of the injustice of the past; 
but it was not the boy’s heart that it was so 
much to blame, and it will be all explained 
sometime. Obi the sweetest assurance ever 
given to mortals, that He who knows all will 
judge righteously. 
A baby face next! a baby no longer, but 
how you wish her to grow up with all a 
woman’s virtues, more became the tmderest 
friend she could ever know abides in the un¬ 
known country. An aged face, whose dear 
old head was crowned before the tired hands 
folded themselves for the last time, it was 
your first acquaintance with the grim visitor; 
you looked with tinspeakshleawe and a name 
less fear filled your heart at the still form. It 
was and was not your grandmother. With a 
child’s tact for the inaptness of things, you 
noticed how the plaits were laid diagonally 
over the quiet breast, white on this side, 
black on that. 
Then there are faces of friends whom you 
long to see; one whose short life was early 
clouded with sorrow; whose large clear eyes 
have now seen the beauties of the beyond, 
and who in dying left your namesake without 
a mother’s care. You have not seen her but 
the mother calls to you from the past, and 
memory of her forms the link between you 
and that rarest of things, a true friend. 
Another face now claims its own—your 
love. And in looking you marvel that you 
should mind ills or vexations since that 
heart so true and steadfast, is yours alone; 
whose lips never censure, whose voice is 
always kind and loving, whose eyes never 
glance coldly or scornfully, who makes life 
for you a sunny way as far as it is possible 
so to do. 
But from these echoing halls of memory 
you are roused by a rustle and a tiuy voice. 
No imaginings or dreams, but a living pres¬ 
ence; the most precious of all gifts from 
heaven, for whose comfort there is nothing 
too hard for you to give up—and the spell is 
broken. Life again bolds its burden for your 
shoulders, dutieB beckon here and there, re¬ 
sponsibilities, though weighing you down, are 
the greatest comforts you have and you think 
remorsefully of your seeming tardiness in 
appreciating your many blessings. It seems 
now that it was all your fault; but for your 
wrong doing the harsh word never would 
have been spoken; and on bended knee you pas¬ 
sionately pray for help and forbearance that 
the coming Christmas tides may find you a 
better woman and more worthy. Surely for 
you this blessed Christmas may not be in 
vain—and the stars are glimmering faintly in 
the pale blue of a Christmas midnight. 
Eva Ames. 
NOTES FROM THE FARMERS’ WIVES’ 
CLUB. 
We had an addition to our club at its last 
meeting of three new members, one of them 
a recent arrival in the neighborhood. Call¬ 
ing on her to speak, she did so, and selected 
this subject: “ Have a Worthy Ambition”; 
then want on to say, “ Do not measure your 
labors, your bouse or your purse, by your ac¬ 
quaintances, but put your eye on a point of 
your own, that it will pay to carry out, and 
then act independently. When I moved to 
Michigan, seven years ago, I had a near 
neighbor who was what people call a stirring 
woman, full of energy, and busy from morn¬ 
ing till night. Lack of early culture and of 
improving society after her marriage had 
caused her range of ideas to settle into a very 
narrow domesiic groove. She bad a natural 
desire to excel, and, in the absence of a bet¬ 
ter motive, it took the form of getting her 
washing out first. She would leave her house 
in the confusion which Monday moruing 
brings to many homes where large families 
are found, aud hurry from her breakfast to 
the wash tub, as if her life depended on it; 
and often she would wash out two or three 
sheets, scald and rinse them hastily, and hang 
them on the line to show any of her observing 
neighbors that her day’s work was well under 
way. But, however much she accomplished, 
she was never apparently any nearer through 
than when she began, and was always, as she 
expressed it, ‘ drove to (hath, 1 
“She came into my kitchen one Monday 
forenoon to borrow Borne bread for dinner. 
‘What!’ said she, ‘haven’t you got your 
clothes into the rinsing water yet?’ ‘ No,’ 
said 1, ‘ but all my other housework is done, 
so that when I hang out my clothes I shall 
have time to rest.’ ‘ There is something in 
that,’ she replied; ‘ blit I have got to churn 
and bake and put the chamber in order yet, 
and must be going.’ I used to try to prevail 
on her to change off from constant bodily la¬ 
bor to books, and assured her that wdth more 
method about her work, she eon 1^ accomplish 
just as much and get time for reading, but 
she did not understand how it could be done. 
“ A little thing helped to start her on a dif¬ 
ferent and a better course of life She had a 
little son ten years- of age, the most thought¬ 
ful, quiet and capable of all her children, and 
at the end of the Winter school bis share in 
the exhibition with which the toucher closed 
his labors was to repeat from memory—‘speak’ 
they called it—two or three pages from 
Scott’s ‘ Lady of the Lake,’ describing the first 
meeting of Rhoderick Dhu and King James. 
It was exceedingly well done aud was the 
success of the evening. As we were leaving 
the school-room together Mrs. Hale grasped 
my hand and said, while tears of maternal 
pride shone in uer eyes, ‘ Yon selected that 
for him; thank you, and if you will lend me 
some books now as you have offered to I will 
begin to read some if I never get my washing 
out first again in my life.” 
“ That was live years ago, an-l my friend is 
now in the third year of a course of reading 
and study in one of tbe Literary and Scien¬ 
tific Circles that bless tbe women of our land, 
her untiring energy takiug her easily and 
well over every difficulty and she is not a less 
but a far more perfect housekeeper than she 
was in her old days. The motive that was 
back of her change of action has been, to 
be able to bean intelligent companion for her 
growing children and to give them cause to 
look up to ‘mother’ with respect.” Dorinda. 
-- 
A SISTERLY CALL. 
Dear Sisters ofthe Rural: The past sea¬ 
son has been a very busy one to many of us, 
t but the Summer is past and Autumn fas^ 
drawing to a close, and with it, its many 
cares. We have culfcivatel flowers and vege¬ 
tables. canned and dried fruit, made jolly 
and pickles; but this work is past for the sea¬ 
son; we have only our “window pets” to 
care for, and may give our attention to other 
work. We look forward to the Winter sea¬ 
son with its loug, pleasant eve* ings with 
pleasure, for they are tbe only opportunity 
many of us have to devote to fancy worn, 
either useful or ornamental. At this season 
children need warm stockings, leggings and 
mittens, and many mothers knit the whole 
supply, and would like directions for knitting 
some pretty new patterns. As the Editor 
gives the women a liberal share of the Rlral, 
I think during the Winter months we might 
with profit devote part of the space allowed 
us to this work. Some of us rnav wish to 
kuit a bed-spread or tidy, make some rugs 
Fig. 490. 
aud cushions or other articles to beautify 
our homes. Tell us how you made those 
lambrequins and that table spread last Spring, 
before time for house cleaning. Please 
give us a pretty pattern for rick-rack for 
trimming a summer dress, and directions for 
making a feathec braid collar. Come, sisters, 
let us exchange ideas and be helps to each 
other. What is old to you may be new to 
others. Those living in larger to wns may be 
a great benefit to others living in the rural 
districts, who perhaps having the same love 
for tbe beautiful as their more favored sis¬ 
ters, have less opportunity for observation 
or for making purchai es. Daisy. 
BOYS’ SUITS. 
How our boyslook when nicely and stylishly 
dressed, is shown in the t wo cuts given here. 
Fig. 491 is a little sack made of dark blue 
serge and trimmed with black braid. It is 
confined around the waist with a band made 
of the material, and finished with a steel 
Fig. 491. 
buckle. Velvet leggim. and cloth gloves, with 
a blue polka-dot necktie under a plain white 
linen collar, completes this suit. Fig. 490 
is a green cloth blouse trimmed with a double 
row of bias velvet. Beit, cuffs aud collar 
also of velvet. Felt hat trimmed with the 
same, and a white or green wing on tbe left 
side. Any mother having a little ingenuity, 
will find it comparatively easy to use these as 
models. 
-- 
ABOUT WOMEN. 
Some of tbe workmen in Deacon Esty’s 
organ works at Brattleboro’, Vermont, com 
plained to him that he employed women in 
tbe manufactory who had not the strength or 
skill for their duties, and pointed to the organs 
into which women’s work had gone which 
they demonstrated to be failures, aud finally- 
told the deacon they could no longer be em¬ 
ployed in a factory which countenanced such 
frauds. Whereupon the proprietor, who had 
borne with them long, replied; “ You’ll be 
paid off and may leave. While you were out 
I selected tbe pieces of machinery made by the 
women and placed them upon your work¬ 
benches, putting your work in their places, 
and the orgaus you have condemned are your 
own, and those you have praised are the work 
of women.” 
Be especially careful to talk truth fully in 
your dealings with children. Don’t tell your 
child you will “ take his head off if be doesn’t 
shut up,” because you won’t, and it teaches 
him to doubt, your word. At least that is one 
reason why you fhould not say so. Then, 
too, that expression and others like it are not 
agreeable to ears polite, and on boats and 
cars you are in danger of being beard and 
severely criticized. Being well dressed or 
even elegantly dressed will not convince your 
yellow-traveler that you are a lady or gentle¬ 
man if such is your dealing with your children. 
The State of New Jersey has been stumped 
by Mrs. Bristol whose husband was a candi¬ 
date for Congress: and Massachusetts has 
been stumped by Miss Jenners, a blnck-ej ed 
young beauty of talent, for General Butl r. 
Mrs. Langthv, the actress, has generously 
offered her services for a benefit for the fami¬ 
lies of those who suffered death by the burn¬ 
ing of the Park Theater, where she was to have 
made her first appearance in America. 
The house formerly belonging to Alice and 
Fhebe Cary, on Twentieth Street, New York 
City, isnow occupied by Dr. Emily Blackwell. 
Domestic Cvcmomi} 
CONDUCTED BV EMILY MAPLE 
PEEPS ACROSS THE WAY. 
NO. 3. 
may maple. 
“Oh, dear! what wonder is it that some 
people are always so hard pressed, when they 
are so careless in th management of their 
domestic, affairs,” said Mrs. Conomy. “Now, 
there is our neighbor, Mrs. Lessem; she has 
what might he a good farm if it were prop¬ 
erly managed, and it ought to afford herself 
and family a good living; and I really thought 
when that shiftless husband of hers shuffled 
off this mortal coil, and went the way of all 
such, that there would be a chance for her to 
lift her head above water. For I’ve al’ays 
declared if there was anything that would 
keep a woman’s nose on the grindstone it was 
a good-for-notbin’, shif’Iess man. But I be¬ 
gin to think that there was sbif’lessness on 
one side of that house, and a great deal of 
mismanagement on the other; and for these 
reasons, prosperity never would sit be¬ 
neath their fig-tree for any length of time. 
Now, the price of butter is up to the top 
notch, and Mrs. Lessem and her children must 
either buy or go without, notwithstanding 
she owns a good cow, and ought to have but¬ 
ter and milk enough to make them comforta¬ 
ble, as far as that necessity is concerned. But 
there it is! the cow ran at large through the 
Summer, as did many of her neighbors’cattle. 
At night ths children were sent to drive her 
home; but as often as once a week the cow 
failed to make her appearance. Of course, 
this caused a shrinkage of milk: and the but¬ 
ter grew lesR, A child who is not strong 
enough for the business is frequently allowed 
to do the milking and this also causes shrink¬ 
age, The milk is left standing in the pail, 
one. two or three hours before it is strained; 
and thus a portion of the cr**am is wasted; if 
any milk i-s needed through the day, there is no 
hesitation about dipping into the pans, which 
are set w here tbe hot air of the stove and the 
warm rays of the sun, have free access. When 
churning-day comes, a pound or so of indiffer¬ 
ent butter is the result; while Mm Thrifty, 
whn has an inferior cow, gets five or six 
pounds a week and is no ways scrimped 
for milk. 
“But then one pair of strong hands draws 
the mil* regularly morning and evening, for 
although the cow runs at large in the early 
part of the season, she is pretty sure to be 
brought to the jard at night; later, she is 
put in pasture or given milk-producing foe d. 
Thus an even flow of milk is kept up for the 
greater part of the year. Theu Mrs. T heats 
the mdk, which is strained as soon as brought 
in, ar d then aet.s it away, saving out what is 
wanted for daily use when tbe milk is first 
strained The rest is not to be disturbed on 
any account till it is ripe for skimming. In 
this way Mrs. Thrifty manages to have what 
butter and milk sbe needs for her family, 
which is the same in size as Mrs. L^ssem’s, 
and enough to sell to purchase a good part of 
her groceries. 
“Many a little makes a mickle.” 
THE ABERDEEN COOKING SCHOOL. 
ANNIE L. JACK 
I have just had a talk with a friend who 
has lately arrived from Scotland. She is a 
good conversationalist, aud l wish my readers 
could have heard her description of the cook¬ 
ing school in Aberdeen and of those who 
attended it. The lady in charge belonged to 
the cooking schools of London, and had two 
attendants. All the demonstrations were 
made by the aid of gas stoves, and lucidly 
explained. Each pupil had a note bo ik and 
jotted*down the recipes given. Everything 
was weighed, and the reasous giveu for use- 
nothing hap hazaid At the close of the les¬ 
sons members could buy of tbe viands cooked. 
A cupful of soup was sold for a penny, and 
other things in proportion, while for those 
who wished to carry home the results of the 
class’s work there were dishes provided that 
could be returned at the next lesson. Many 
young housekeepers were there, and often 
carried home a pudding for dessert or a loaf 
of cake. Every question was answered, and 
pupils were invited to make inquiry if they 
did not understand the demonstrations. 
My friend said she enjoyed tbe lessons, and 
that the greater part of those who went were 
in earnest and had a strong desire to levrn. I 
will give below one soup, and as she has 
promised me a glimpse at her note book, I 
may have sometaing further and varied to 
lay before the readers in future. One sheep’s 
head carefully cleaned, two pig’s feet, two 
onious, two turnips, two carrots, a hunch of 
sweet herbs and half a cup of barley used for 
soup which has been soaked in water two 
hours. Crack all the boues, aud put with the 
vegetables into a pot of water that will not 
all boil away in five hours’ slow boiling. 
Then strain through a rather flue colander; 
add the barley and pepper, salt, mace, and a 
little dear stock. Boil for twenty minutes 
and serve. 
MINCE MEAT TO KEEP ALL WINTER 
Two pounds of lean beef boiled and chopped 
fine after cooling, six pounds of apples chop- 
