JAN.40 
THE BSJBAL NEW-¥©BKEB. 
34 
In the same gay, careless strain as before, her 
heart was beating faster, and she found herself 
wishing her brother would make his appearance. 
There was certainly some one on the other side 
of the curtain, though why anybody should be 
hiding there It. would be difficult to say. Yes, she 
was not mistaken; for while stooping, and pre¬ 
tending to caress the cat. she contrived to cast 
another look tn that direction. The face of a 
man—a pale face, tho lower part of It, partially 
concealed by a heard and moustache—was pressed 
against, the. glass. 
The moment she moved It vanished; but the 
fire-light had played upon It, and she knew that 
she was hot deceived. Would the owner of this 
face, on having assured himself that she was alone, 
leap out upon her ? 
The supposition was such a horrifying one that 
she could scarceyl restrain herself from screaming 
and rushing away. But she did conquer the Im¬ 
pulse, and controlled her alarm sufliclently to 
walk to the door with the cat In her arms, as If 
merely proposing to ascertain the state of the 
weather. 
Once there, however—oh! welcome sound!— 
the l ramp of a horse’s hoofs and the rattle of a 
vehicle rose above the sound of the north wind, 
and Katrine could be prudent no longer. Drop¬ 
ping poor puss into a snow-drift, away she ran, 
and did not stop till her brother's cheery “ Halloo!’ 
fell on her ear.—[To be continued. 
Jfor SHomtn. 
CONDUCTED B? MISS FAITH HIPLEY. 
SNOW-BOUND COTTAGE. 
BY J. G. WHITTIER. 
A hard, dull bitterness of cold 
The coining of tho snowstorm told. 
Meanwhile we did our nightly chores. 
Brought in the wood from out-of doors. 
Shut in from all the world without, 
We mil tho cleun-wiuged hearth about. 
The house-dog, on his paws outspread. 
Laid to the lire his drowsy head; 
The cat's dark silhouette oil the wall 
A coueli ant tiger's seemed to fall ; 
And, for the winter's lireside meet. 
Between the audirons’ straddling feet 
The mug of cider simmered slow, 
The apples sputtered in a row, 
And close at hand the basket stood 
With nuts from brown October's woods. 
Our father rode again his ride 
Ou Mempliromugog’s wooded side; 
Sut down again to moose and samp 
In trapper's hut and Iudiau camp; 
Our mother, while she turned the wheei 
Or run the new-knit stocking heel. 
Told how the Indian hordeH came down 
At midnight on t'oehco tow n; 
Our uncle, innocent Of books. 
M as rich iu Jore of fields and brooks; 
Next, the dear aunt, whose smile of cheer 
And voice in dreams X seo and hear, 
The sweetest, woman ever Fate, 
Perverse, denied 11 household mate. 
There, too, our elder sister plied 
Her evening task the stand beside— 
A lull, rich nature, free to trust. 
Truthful, and almost sternly just. 
Upon the motlcy-braidod mat 
Our youngest and our dearest eat. 
Brisk wiokler of the birch and rule. 
The master of the district school 
Heid at the lire his favored place; 
Its warm glow lit a laughing face. 
We heard once more the sleighbells sound, 
Tbe wise old doctor went his round. 
Just pausing at our door to say. 
In the brief autocratic way, 
That some poor neighbor, sick a lied, 
At night our mother's aid would need. 
And while, with care, our mother laid 
The work aside, her steps she stayed 
One moment, seeking to express 
Her grateful sense of happiness 
For food ami shelter, warmth and health. 
And love’s contentment mure than wealth. 
-*-*-*- 
LETTERS FROM A COUNTRY GIRL.—No. 20, 
MARGARET B. HARVEY. 
a tanner, that he drank the very dregs of poverty. 
Suppose he had believed himself absolutely worth¬ 
less because ho wasn't born rich and didn’t live on 
Fifth Avenue—whore would our country have 
been to-day 7 He has made Ills own position, you 
say. So he has, and he deserves to be honored for 
ltr but I contend that, aside from the usual Im¬ 
provement In every respectable human bedng as 
lfeor she growsolder.be Is no better now than 
he was in his days of adversity. He doesn't think 
so himself, at any rate, for he takes all his 
triumphs as modestly as'any one well could, Not 
one In a thousand of you has before her as brilliant 
a future as our beloved commander of armies—but 
you may. If you will, have something worth striv¬ 
ing for. I quote General Grant right here, because 
1 think he tlttingly personifies the genius of the 
American people. 
You all have an Idea of something which you 
variously express by the use of such terms as 
“ posltloD,” *• station,” “high," “ low," common,” 
and so forth. Now, I say that unless as you 
grow older you grow also more and more sordid, 
and selfish and conceited and narrow, you will 
learn that what you mean (“caste," "social dis¬ 
tinction,” etc.) Is a very arbitrary thlug, repre¬ 
senting totally different values In different local¬ 
ities. and, sifted down to the bottom, may be found 
“Just nowhere.” I once believed that “all men 
are created equal," although found In the Declara¬ 
tion of Independence, was not true—I believe 
differently now. T don't say that all men remain 
equal, but I do say that they arc created so, start¬ 
ing life Ignorant and helpless, all having within 
them the possibility of attaining supreme heights. 
Have we not all come short of the glory? What 
possessions have we. mental, moral or material, 
that we have not received as free girts from our 
Creator—or, In other words, what are we our¬ 
selves 7 So, then, can you not see that republican¬ 
ism Is only another form of solid Bible doctrine, an 
Inevitable following out of the true spirit of 
Christ 7 To rate men and women by mere ex¬ 
ternals Is Just about equivalent to rating them by 
the colors of their hair. 
So, my girl, believe that you can be a true lady 
no matter how you are situated, and not only that j 
you can be one, but that you can be known as one. 
But don’t expect to be a perfect one all at ouce, 
any more than you can gain a thorough education 
all at once. Begin, first of all, to cultivate your 
heart and mind. This you may do In various 
ways—you may read good poetry, slug true songs, 
study Impartial history, observe nature, In short, 
seek to love the good and the beauutul. If you 
are, or become a Christian, you have the most 
effectual help of all, lor no woman, I think, can 
be In every respect a lady, unless she attend first 
to the discipline of her own heart, so as to develop 
an exceedingly sweet and tender charity tor oth¬ 
ers. She Should seek to be the personification of 
kindness, believing mat every one has the same 
right to her civility. It will not do to be deferen¬ 
tial to the rich and haughty to the poor—such con- 
vulgar. Bight living nwu 
Young ladles who have •• devoured" page arter 
page and volume after volume of “yellow-covered 
literature,” sooner or later wake up to the despair¬ 
ing conclusion that because they were not “ born 
to wealth and high position,” and because they 
don't live on “ Fifth Avenue,” they eau never be 
anything,—that •• refinement” and “good society" 
are things out of their reach. No matter whether 
or not they have II ved all their lives In au attno- 
phereof coml'oitand lutelllgouce and goodness- 
their tolks don't live In the proper way. And they 
fret and writ he under this conclusion, and perhaps 
grow bitter and uncharitable, more or less, and 
wonder why it is that every spot in the United 
States, except a certain quarter of New York city, 
Is given over lo the •• low and vulgar,” and why 
farmers’ and mechanics' daughters are considered 
by the " ton." as no belter than “ hired girls.” lr 
t hey are the least bit well-informed, and have read 
through t he school histories, they wonder, too, if 
republicanism exists only In books. 
My dear girls, 1 sympathize with you fully. Let 
me also try and help you a little. You have fallen 
Into a very natural mistake, us a consequence of 
your reading—but let me tell you emphatically 
that It in a mistake. 1 ueed no better illustrat ion 
than the present excitement in my own city, Phil¬ 
adelphia. General Grant Is now our guest, and all 
delight to do him honor as have princes and kings, 
barbarians and enlightened. What man among us 
stands higher than does he ? Yet we all know that 
he lived in a log house, that he learned his trade as 
duct la worec than 
within must, sooner or later, work outwardly to 
the proper regulation of every-day conduct, still, 
It Is well to think of extern risa little—some atten¬ 
tion to etiquette, too, will bo of value. Yet, don’t 
lay too much stress on It, else you will give rise l.o 
the suspicion that you only lately began to think 
of it at all. And don’t ignore it entirely—you can 
scarcely do so without being betrayed into rude¬ 
ness occasionally. Bu'. remember that while you 
are to make strict rules Tor yourself, you are not, 
to do so tor others—there Is where you are to exer¬ 
cise your forbearance. We cannot Ignore or snub 
people for what they do, or we would frequently 
offend those who have advanced far beyond our- 1 
selves. I have frequently seeu one of the most 
influential and best-known writers tn this coun¬ 
try, sit down before me, and deliberately take out 
his knife and cleau his nails. And I saw a promi¬ 
nent and gifted artist-whip out a comb lua crowd¬ 
ed concert-room and smooth hla rumpled hair. 
Rules are useful, but most people of character do 
Insist upon being laws to themselves, though. I 
am happy to say, rarely to the extent Indicated 
above. 
You want good society, It is natural that you 
should, and right that you should have It. But, 
before you feel aggrieved i hat you are shut out (lr 
you are, or think you are), pause, and consider 
whether you yourseir are good society. Is your 
acquaintance worth making, on account of your 
admliable qualities, your courtesy, or your men¬ 
tal attainments 1 If uot, Lhcn you have something 
to do In the way or fitting yourself tor worthy 
companions. If so, why. then don't worry—water 
will find Its level. Live simply, naturally, and in¬ 
telligently, and you won t go through the world 
friendless, 
Don’t feel yourseir lu the least slighted because 
certain families in your neighborhood don’t coun¬ 
tenance. you. Be strong enough to create your 
own circle—if you aie not at present, look forward 
to the time when you shall be. You have a per¬ 
fect right to Invite whom you will into your 
house-so has your neighbor. You need not con¬ 
sider yourself auy better or any worse than your 
rellow-belngs—still, you don t want to - mix” with 
anybody and everybody, for two very good rea¬ 
sons. One is, some of your human brotheis may 
have the capacity and the inclination to do you 
more harm than good. •* Evil communications cor¬ 
rupt good manners.” The other is, for the sake of 
upholding the privacy of the home. This is tbe 
principle upon which we do not sit at the table 
wltl) our servants—uot that we think ourselves so 
much superior, but that we do not care to have 
our domestic circle intruded upon. So, why 
should your “ still'' neighbors worry you: They 
may have nothing against you, and probably don’t 
thlukof offeutUng you—all they want to do, is to 
protect their family sanctity. You have precisely 
the same right that they have—when y ou know 
them better and they Know you, you will ilud 
them delightful and the very reverse of “ stuck- 
up”—or, if yoq don’t, you ueedn't desire auy fur¬ 
ther acquaintance with them. You will then have 
another illustration of the {act that externals are 
not all. You may as well learn, first as last, that 
those who do consider themselves the highest in 
the land, on account of money, or position, or In¬ 
fluence, or anything else, and rely upon nothing 
In their own minds and hearts, are greatly pitied 
by the united sentiments of the wisest, and would 
work you very little advantage If you did know 
them. 
Tear yourself away from everything, and re¬ 
solve to stand In your own Integrity,' though the 
heavens fall. Break off all degrading associations; 
eschew all vulgar habits of action, thought and 
feeling; turn aside from all frivolous pursuits. 
Read, study, and think. Beaultfy your home, so 
far as In you lies; learn to dress quietly and 
tastefully ; treat your nody as Though you real¬ 
ized that It was a temple of the Holy Ghost. If 
you have friends living In cities—refined, cul¬ 
tured friends, I mean, there Is more real vul¬ 
garity in cities than elsewhere, among what I 
may call the “ half-cuts,” people who are neither 
very Intelligent nor very Ignorant—a few brief 
visits to them will teach you far more than I could 
In volumes, lu tho way of adornment, neatness, 
propriety, and so-forth, as well as give you an In¬ 
sight Into general!! i eratu re, music, art, science, 
and matters of Interest, generally. 
Say that you have a better Idea of true living. 
Don't become discontented with your, circum¬ 
stances, except so far as you desire to Improve 
them. Cultivate a divine adaptability,—a hero¬ 
ic force that bends ail things to Its purposes, and 
overcomes unlimited discouragements. You never 
saw a place, however ugly and unattracilve. that 
couldn’t have been made better—even homelike 
and beautiful. As l think I showed you in my 
articles ou Dome Decoration that somet hing may be 
made out of nothing—almost literally. A true, 
lady may make a ladylike abode out. of “ a hol¬ 
low beech-tree.” (That Is, irsuch a thing exists; 
I never saw one.) Oh, tf women would only do 
without carpets and buy pianos—without silk 
dresses and buy books, It they would have croquet 
and archery, instead of Hamburg edgings,—if 
they did without gold chains and bought, photo¬ 
graphs and Imliotypes and engravings—how much 
sweeter and purer their lives would be. Their 
rooms would look far lovelier in simple matting 
and muslins, and they themselves far daintier 
In fresh prints and rough hats enwreatned with 
dried grasses, both rooms and dresses enlivened 
with natural flowers, than if houses and rorms 
were loaded with gaudy finery, and minds and 
hearts left starving. 
Having determined that your house—or your 
room—shall look like the abode of a lady, study 
all the more to act as It Indicates that you do. 
Use your Influence—gently, however—to bring 
those, around you to do likewise. Remember a 
few little points, as preliminary to giving your 
attention to others: 
“ Airs” are always vulgar. You are what you are 
—affectations of any kind won't make you other¬ 
wise. Bo yourself and act your usual character 
y ways. Be quiet and self-contained, and bo very 
wary as to how you seek to Impress your super¬ 
iority on others. But then, here you may be 
misjudged. A genuine love or the refinements 
and proprieties of life, whether they are attaina¬ 
ble at present or not. Is the very opposite of 
" putting on,”—this last springs from a sense of 
inferiority and Is a wrong means to evercome It— 
a cure applied, as It were, to Llic outside. Be¬ 
sides avoiding affectation, and smoothing off 
roughness, beware of gossip. No lady ever 
lowers herself so far as to tattle, or repeat what 
wasn't meant for her to know. Nor will she allow 
herself to say anything uncharitable ol her neigh¬ 
bors— she is supposed lobe busy with other mat¬ 
ters. 'Talk about things, not persona-find sub¬ 
jects of conversation In books, and in nature. 
As to ebullitions Of temper and sarcastic ex¬ 
pressions—such things are worthy of heathens 
or, at most, ungovernable children. A lady who 
cannot control herself had better seek solitude 
immediately. It will save her friends, and the 
trouble of making countless apologies 
Of all ladylike accomplishments, the most valu¬ 
able Is the use of good English. Head well-written 
works and consult, the dictionary frequently. 
Writing letters carefully is a good means of famil¬ 
iarizing one's self with spelling, punctuation and 
grammar, speak well, tr possible, whatever you 
don t do. lu doing so, study to use proper terms— 
simple words are preferable always—eschewing 
slang and certain other words which have either 
gone out of use or never were recognized. Among 
these are *■ polite,” “genteel,” “pants,” “gent,” 
and some othere. Never use words which savor or 
cringing servility on the one baud, or or haughty 
superciliousness ou the other, such as “ big bug," 
“ upper crust," and the like. If you wish to speak¬ 
er a persons agreeable manner, say that he is 
•courteous” (pronout.ee It right, curl-yus), or 
mention his “ courtesy" A worthy peison is « re¬ 
spectable " or “ refined,” as tho case may be. Put 
a little boy iuto " trousers,”or “pantaloons;” even 
“breeches." Don't cut a griuleman down into a 
“vulgar fraction of himself. Be especially care¬ 
ful or such expressions as •* Law, me 1” •- Mercy 
days!" “Ualn't," "Hadn't oner," “It's me,” 
•* Thrlbble " (triple or treble), and •• Slippy.” 
Don't appear at the table, especially lu the even¬ 
ing, without being as neat as circumstances win 
allow. Don't eat with your knife. Such a practice 
Is more than vulgar—It is barbarous—recalling the 
time when men used their knives to strip a dead 
animal, and cut off pieces of Us raw flesh. The 
knife Is to be used only to divide the rood, the fork, 
held tn the right hand, is to convey lr. to the 
mouth. The fork Is not to be used In helping one s 
sell to bread or cake; these are to be taken with 
the fingers. Never put your ktiHe or fork lnlo a 
dish upon the table from which others must be 
helped Do not pour out lea or coffee into a 
saucer. Rat cheese with your fork. Do not hesl 
late at the last of anything in a dish; take it_ 
there ought to be more. If you are at home, fold 
your napkin alter eating, if you are out, unless 
you care to stay awhile, do not fold It, but leave It 
crumpled—It Is supposed to be ready for the wash- 
tub. A few other little points you may find out 
for yourself from time to time. For Instance, 
olives are to be taken with the Ungers. 
You know, of course, that you are not to pass 
before a person without apologizing; that you are 
uot to pick your teeth or clean your nails In com¬ 
pany ; to neglect to answer a courteous letter or 
return a call; to present a sharp-pointed instru¬ 
ment with the point towards the person receiving 
It; to notice or allude lo a deformity; to leave a 
caller abruptly, without asking to be excused; to 
speak of your owmgood fortune simply in contra¬ 
distinction to your friend’s adversity—that Is, to 
boast, as the .southern girls did before the war, of 
“ my father’s wealt h ’’; to make unkind or unnec¬ 
essary remarks about acquaintances;—to forget, 
yourself. In any way, without apologizing:-in a 
word, to be unmindful of the feelings of others. I 
went Into detail upon matters which, I think, gen¬ 
erally speaking, are most, neglected among farm¬ 
ers’ folks, in other respects, in good, beany, old- 
fashioned hospitality, they are without peers. 
A young lady has a right to select her gentlemen 
friends. Iler house 13 not open to every Tom, Dlek 
and Hary who chooses to come in. She rnay In¬ 
vite certain of her acquaintances to call and see 
her, and she may omit to Invite certain others, to 
do the same. So far noma young man’s feeling 
that he is free to visit or note any girl he chooses, 
he ought to reel honored that he is asked to visit 
any. And a young lady may or may not recognize 
any young gentleman who has been introduced to 
her,—he cannot speak until she has signified that 
he may,—that Is, unless they have known each 
other long enough to be considered old Mends. 
She can also excuse herself from an unwelcome 
visitor. There la no reason why a girl should not 
hold up her head. 
A word or two as to children. The old system of 
repression la going out—the Hi tie ones are begin¬ 
ning to be treated us little ladles and gentlemen, 
and are taught to behave so. Iu old times, parents 
seemed to believe that children could bear any 
kind of boorish treatment, and still grow up with 
tender hearts and refined Instincts—now, it is 
known that such a course of action tends to 
harden. So, never reprove a child In company,— 
If you have anything to say, say It afterwards, 
and privately. The old fashion of leaching chil¬ 
dren to say. “ Yes, sir,” and "No, ma'am," Is going 
out—It Is something that must be unlearned when 
they are older, for such a mode of speech in a 
grown person sounds servile It Is better to say : 
“ Yes, mamma,” "No, Mr. Smith,” and the like, 
“Sir," and “Ma’am,” being very sparingly used, 
chiefly in addressing a gentleman or a lady with 
whoso name you are not familiar, or In case you 
desire to be exceedingly formal, _ if you wish a 
remark repeated, which you did‘not hear, don't 
use, “ sir 7 >* or. “ Ma am 7” as a question,—say, “ I 
beg pardon.” For children and older folks alike, 
the more simple, the more apparently sincere, the 
manners, t he better—anything like elaborate bow¬ 
ings and scrapings, and the dancing-school style 
generally -being considered rather in bad taste 
than otherwise. 
A younger person Is to be introduced (a an older ; 
a gentleman to a lady; iu short, where there is an 
obvious difference between tho two parties, the 
Inferior to the superior,—otherwise, strike an equal 
balance <as nearly as possible. Never, under any 
circumstances, directly cut an acquaintance,—If it 
would be unpleasant tor you to meet such a one, you 
can avoid seeing hirn or her. And of all hateful 
things, I think a disposition to look out for slights 
and insults is the most so,—better not take in 
enough, than be always getting hurt.,—the last 
argues a morbid self-consciousness that will finally 
ruin your peace of mind. Moreover, be very cau¬ 
tious about dictating to others,—even moderately 
advising,—for you may find yoursulf assuming a 
knowledge which you don't possess. 
How far useful what I have said may be, I don’t 
know. But I hope It may accomplish some little 
good. Don't cry down anything because it Is 
“fashionable,’—alL these considerations are proper 
and Convenient ns well. You are, or ought to be, 
as good as anybody,—as self-respectlt-g, at least. 
So, nothing really valuable is too valuable ror you 
if you will only take it and use It rightly. It Is 
your duty, as well as other people’s, to keep up 
with the times, and adorn your place in the world. 
See that you do It. 
VARIETIES. 
essentially Injured 
Your character cannot be 
except by your own acts. 
In memory’s mellowed light we behold not the 
thorns, we see only the beautiful flowers. 
To be comfortable and contented, spend less 
than you can earn—an art which few have learned. 
None more Impatiently suffer Injuries than 
those who are always most forward In doing them. 
The description of cuts, promised tor the first 
Issue In January, has been unavoidably delayed; 
It will appear in the next number.—lies. 
Pride is as loud a beggar as want, and a great, 
deal saucier. When you have bought one tijie 
thing, you must buy ten more, that your appear¬ 
ance may be all one piece; but it Is easier to sup¬ 
press the first desire than to satisfy all that tollow 
It. 
The language of postage-stamps, instead of flow¬ 
ers, has been invented by a practical American. 
Thus, when a postage-stump is placed upside 
down on the left corner or the letter, it means •• i 
love you;” in the same crosswise, •• My heart is 
anothers;” straight up and down, “Good-bye, 
sweetheart, good-bye;” upside dowu In the right- 
band corner, “Write no more;” in the center at 
the top, •* Yes opposite at the bottom, “Noon 
the right-hand corner at a right angle, “Do you 
love me?” in the left-hand corner. *• i hate you;” 
top corner on tho right, “ 1 wish your friendship ;” 
bottom corner ou the left. “1 seek your acquaint¬ 
anceon a Hue with the surname, “Accept my 
lovethe same upside down, •• l am engagedat 
a right angle m the same place, “ 1 long to see 
you;' in the middle at the right-hand edge 
*' Write Immediately,” 
