422 
CONDUCTED BY MISS RAY CLARK. 
LAWLESS CHILDREN. 
What does ail those children? Are their 
parents at war with their neighbor and with 
all mankind, and have these children, thus 
early, gone into the field to help disable the 
enemy? You. might certainly think so. There 
they are on a neighbor’s grounds, out of sight 
of his house because of the shrubbery, break¬ 
ing whips from his line young trees, tearing 
up the turf, rolling over the young ever¬ 
greens, and slyly throwing stones at the pass¬ 
ers by. Now, they want a change, so off 
they go dow'n into the street, stopping in 
front of this house and that, rapping 
on the yard fence with a stick until 
the iumates lookout; when they laugh deri¬ 
sively and mu away, throwing a stone into 
another yard to hit a flower-pot, and so on, 
into the business part of the little town. 
There are five or six of them. Some are 
pretty little fellows with sweet baby faces, and 
one not more than four years old; a lady 
smiles down into his face as she passes, but he 
knows better than to smile bashfully back; he 
flourishes the little stick in his hand at her 
menacingly, and the others laugh. 
Is this a youug band of destroyers, under 
training, aud in practice? It may turn out to 
be so, but nobody means any such thing now. 
They are simply the children of two or three 
families whose parents are at peace with their 
neighbors, and with all the world. They are 
in the habit of runniue together. The largest, 
eight years old, perhaps, has nothing to do at 
home after breakfast, and he and hissix-year- 
old brother, lounge out into the street, where 
they meet two other little boys who have just 
done their breakfast, and « ho also are in the 
habit of seeking work and amusement, in the 
street, in the neighbor’s yards—any where but. 
at home. Often their number is augmented 
by one or two more; then they grow bold, aud 
sometimes do damage, and talk saucily to any 
one who hinders them. When these excesses 
come to the ears of their parents, they are 
whipped, or sent to bed at noon, or at night 
without their supper. 
These punishments do them no good it is 
evident, for they an- out on life war-path 
again in a f>w days; just as idle, as aimless, 
as full of mischief as ever. Their parents do 
not seem as much cast down about it as one 
might think. They sometimes smile from the 
further side of their mouths, iu speaking of 
these performances, and say, “‘What won’t 
children do f' 
Everybody would be glad il they 
lived farther off, everybody hates to see 
the poor things coming. I say “poor 
things,” for they are poor things. They 
are much to he pitied. 1 here is nothing 
in their natures that necessarily makes them 
so much like spirits of evil seeking what they 
may devour. It is equally far from the truth 
to say either that they act so because they 
are so full of badness; or because they are so 
full of energy, in common parlance, “so 
smart." They are naturally no “smarter,” 
and no more diabolical than the boy* of two 
or three other families living near; yet these 
latter never set foot in a neighbor’s yard, 
iiuless they have business, and are never seen 
louugmg in the street, or iu the saloon. The 
main difference between the two sets of boys 
is due to tbeir trainiug. The firature lawless, 
aud that is whut ails them. They are literally 
lawless; not subject to law. 
What would be the consequence to adults, 
men and women, if there were no regulations, 
stringent as those ol a written code, by which 
they must abide in their intercourse with 
each other. If they had no business to take 
up their time, if they ute their meals, 
aud then sat aud talked, and lounged, 
and ran into euch other’s houses, aud 
into the street, just as it happened 
the result would be dissipation of all tiiat is 
worthy in morals and in intellect. Adults 
cannot stand a lawless, desultory style of 
living. Children certainly cannot. This law¬ 
less running together of children Mi auy place; 
in the house, iu the street, or in the Held; is 
enough to destroy whatever of good mfluence 
may be exerted at home, aud it usually does 
this. 
“My neighbor’s children are just as good as 
mine,” one may say. It may be so. It may 
bo that both are good children, well trained at 
home, and free from the knowledge of low 
vices; but if you would have them retain their 
uprightness, do not ullow them to mix hap¬ 
hazard with the children of another family. 
Visits should not be too often, and time and 
place should be urranged by parents. 
If rny yard joined neighbors who hud the 
most faultless children, I would not allow my 
children to go even into their yards to play, 
without invitation from headquarters; and if 
THE BUBAL I3EW-Y0BKEB. 
FEB 23 
other children should come into my yard con¬ 
stantly I should devise some means by which, 
without breaking the peace, I could make 
them feel it was better to remain away. Such 
necessity is not pleasant, and it takes a great 
deal of tact to gain your point, aud neither 
make the children hate you, nor offernd their 
parents; but it ruay be done; and as a result 
much more agreeable relations may be main¬ 
tained between families than when children 
are allowed to run back and fortb, without 
control. No mother likes to have her child a 
nuisance to other people, and no one can en¬ 
dure a child who is constantly intruding 
where it has no business. 
One inestimable good of living iu the coun¬ 
try is that your children may have wide roam¬ 
ing places, plenty of room to play on your 
own domain. Parents with means sufficient, 
who provide no placo outdoors for their chil¬ 
dren to play except the streets, do thorn a 
great injury- Eut in every place, in the town 
or in the country, children should never even 
begin to trespass. Your own innate feeliug 
should grow into your child. This presumes 
that you are conscientiously not a meddler in 
other people’s matters. The unspoken influ¬ 
ence of home should be so strong that a child 
would be surprised and ashamed to be told 
sternly not to go into a neighbor’s yard to 
play, and not to join those lawless fellows in 
the street. No one need think that such 
strictness will rob childhood of any blessed 
memories; it will, on the couutrary, spare 
many occasions for looking back with shame 
aud regret. To me, one of childhood’s sweetest 
memories, is that of visits once in a while, on 
Saturday afternoons, to the homes of my 
very little frieuds. My brother and my sister 
aud myself, I can see the trio now, walking 
along in the sweet Summer sunshine, our 
hearts so full of happiness we could hardly 
keep from l'unniug. The lady of the house 
received us graciously, because we were in¬ 
vited, and we never came to her house unless 
we were invited, or were sent on an errand. 
Strive to have your child early feel the re¬ 
straints of law. He canuot too early begin 
the habit of restraining and governing him¬ 
self. That mother who is not obliged to keep 
her thumb down heavy on her child to hold 
him out of mischief, is a happy woman. 
PERSIE VERK. 
SEASIDE CHAIRS. 
It may perhaps be early in the year, and not 
very propitious weather, for thinking about 
what we shall do when Summer comes, or 
about purchasing house-hold goods for the sea¬ 
side home: but now is the time for bargains. 
The stores are teeming with them, and if one 
has a little money it can be made to return 
good value, especially in dry goods, although 
not confined to this line of purchases, for 
shoes, carpets and furniture of all kinds have 
not been sold at such prices as are now being 
asked for them, in many years. 
We know the comforts of sitting on the 
beach facing the great ocean, woth the mer¬ 
cury well tip toward the nineties, iu a chair, 
such as is shown in our engraving. There can 
always rest be found in one of thorn, let the 
situation be as it may, for it is exceedingly en¬ 
joyable w lien placed in the cool shade of a 
grand old tree, where with book m baud the 
occupant can spend many an hour wit h profit 
to both rniud and body. They arc valuable 
for in valids, or persons of delicate health, who 
are deprived of being out of doors becuuse 
the wind blows too harshly upon them, for in 
these chairsthey are protected from draughts, 
and they can occupy them with safety. 
Domestic Cconomi} 
CONDUCTED BY EMILY MAPLE. 
A WORD TO “CHARITY” FROM A CANA¬ 
DIAN FARMER’S DAUGHTER. 
MEDLEY OR CRAZY PICTURES. 
There seems to be some cause for Charity’s 
disconteut. I agree with her in thinking that 
in many instances farmers’ girls do not. get 
fail- play. Surely, the girl who is capable of 
making and saving money, is entitled to a 
share of the profits. In our home we girls do 
the milking, churning, butter-making, aud 
take care of tbe fowls, and after “keeping the 
house,”—that is, providing groceries, table 
aud other linen, etc.—all the money made 
from the sale of butter and eggs is ours, to 
spend as we please. By dressing economically, 
we manage to have a little pocket money and 
sometimes we cau afford to buy a book or a 
flower, or a present for a friend. If our men¬ 
folk do not al ways approve of the investments 
we make, they are kindly and wisely silent 
about the matter. I think if Charity’s father 
would count the cost of having clothes made 
by a tailor, he would see that his daughter has 
saved the price of a sewing-machine, and that 
too by bard labor, for making men’s clothes is 
heavy work. 
Perhaps Charity is mistaken in think;ng that 
hearing Patti once would have satisfied her. 
It might have only made her more dissatisfied 
with her own condition. There are many 
grand and beautiful things in the world that 
we, whose homes are iu the quiet country, 
shall neversee or hear; but, instead of making 
ourselves miserable over chat which is beyond 
our reach, let us enjoy and appreciate the 
beauty of our surroundings. I know of a little 
pond in the woods where iu Spriug the wild vio¬ 
lets make the air almost heavy with sweetness; 
where iu Summer the water is dark aud cool; 
where wild grasses abound and ferns rival 
each other in grace aud beauty. Every log is 
covered with velvety moss and every up¬ 
turned stump is a fairy garden—a little spot 
of loveliness which has, to me, a more elevat¬ 
ing influence than all the pleasures of opera or 
theater. 
1 do not think Charity realizes ouc-hulf the 
pleasure of country life. I wonder if she knows 
how much enjoyment there is iu a sleigh- 
ride. Wo sometimes take ande, not in a dash 
ing livery rig, but in the old farm sleigh, tak¬ 
ing with us as many' of our frieuds and neigh 
bors as can be accommodated with seats. Out 
in the frosty Winter night we go, forgetting 
fora while all the cares aud troubles aud mis¬ 
takes of our house keeping; away past old 
homesteads, where the huge barns and out¬ 
buildings east great,dark shadows on the snow, 
aud the lights shining from the windows of 
the farm-houses speak of the life und love 
within; on through tue deep pine woods, 
where the trees look weird aud black in tbe 
moonlight. We seem to bo almost flying over 
the road while we make the air ring with our 
merry songs, and when we turn homeward 
aud our company grows smaller, as one after 
another of our companions leaves us, we 
think that life is worth living, and our friends 
worth loving. 
If some of our brothers and friends do not 
use good grammar, we know it is because 
their school-days were spent iu hard labor at 
home, working late and early to make aud 
keep the farm free from debt, aud we should 
respect them for the sacrifice many of them 
have made. Boys, we will forgive you for 
using bad grammar, if you will ouly promise 
that your lips shall never be sullied by' au oath 
or by the absurd slang and sinull talk that 
echo through our towns. If you will promise 
that, while so many of t he youth ol’ our cities 
are absorbing the fumes of bad liquor aud 
cheap cigars, aud developing their brain¬ 
power by playing “euchre” for “five cents a 
corner,” y'ou who breathe the pure air of the 
country will abstain from all bad habits und 
impurities of miud. Aud do not think that 
we take no interest iu the business of the 
farm, because we sometimes wish you to talk 
of other things. W© are very much interested 
in all that concerns you; we want to have the 
best of every thing on our farms; we wish you 
to have the best kiuds of grain, and the best 
methods of cultivating; we wish you to have 
the latest improvements in implements and 
the reading of the best works on agriculture, 
that you may become masters of your busi¬ 
ness; but, more Lhuu that., we would have you 
read aud think, tbut you may be men of 
knowledge. We would have you fit yourselves 
for taking a place m the Council aud Senate, 
among the men who help to administer and 
enforce our laws. You owe it to yourselves, 
who lay the very foundation of our country’s 
wealth and strength, to be able and intelligent, 
and you may depend upon our sympathy in all 
your efforts toward self-improvement. 
A FARMER’S DAUGHTER. 
As people generally are not posted ou the 
size of glass and frames they require, it’s 
economy to secure frames and glass for the 
first move. Let us suppose that you have for 
years saved all the pretty pictures that came 
In magazines, illustrated papers,like Harper's, 
or Youths’ Companion, etc. Secureapiece of 
paste board the size of the glass, aud take 
half a dozen of the pictures, and, euttiug out 
all the poorest parts, iu many cases zigzagging, 
following the outlines of the objects. Then 
beginning at center with a tiny brush dipped 
iu mucilage, moisten the back of the first pic¬ 
ture iu two or three spots according to size. 
Map out the design with the eye, aud by lay¬ 
ing the pictures down some distance ahead 
before you fasten them, heads, hands or parts 
of objects overlapping the back-ground, or at 
the foot of some other picture,may be arranged 
so as to represent it as all iu one, fitted together 
somewhat ou the principle of Japanese or 
crazy quilts. Heads of animals, or the whole of 
small ones, statues, or pretty faces, pieces of 
furniture, where the picture bus nothing else 
to admire, should be cut out delicately, follow¬ 
ing the outlines exactly, aud put in to repre¬ 
sent pictures on the wall, back of some person 
in medley, or put in to fill vacant places. For 
instance,m the scene of a wreck, a horse and dog 
may be added, or birds flying through the air. 
Your pictures should all be of the same color 
or shade aud the same degree of quality. I have 
oue which ha» been admired by many, a ad 
one never tires looking at it. It measures 
twenty-five by thirty inches, and has fifty - 
three pictures in the make-up, the smallest 
being a butterfly and a rocking horse. If oue 
makes a mistake and cuts out too much, she 
cau cut the dark parts from some other pic¬ 
tures of the same shade and color, and put 
under. The back must be fitted very tight by 
putting lath across, or something to press the 
whole firmly to tne glass. I bought and filled 
a scrap-book on the same principle, only I 
used some flowers and colored pictures, the 
prettiest sheet being au engraving of James 
Vick surrounded by flowers. 
Photos or colored pictures on paste-board I 
soaked iu warm water, and carefully sepa¬ 
rated and dried them. Of course 1 fastened 
every point or spot of the pictures in the 
scrap-book, but I think the pictures under 
glass will keep their shape best, not to be 
tightly pasted, as heat and moisture warps the 
foundation. plain peqgy Prim, 
A FEW WORDS FOR BROWN BREAD. 
It would seem a little unfair and hardly 
impartial, for Prof. Storer to speak of the 
popular verdict iu favor of white bread as 
evidence of progress in civilization and cir¬ 
cumstances, ami when the great public speaks 
for brown bread, to have it told that it is au 
“odd fancy” aud au “unfounded error,” a 
“etude notion.” It will uot be in OOr day nor 
with such blunt weapons that the people are 
to be delivered from “errors chain.” What 
scientific experiments have been exact enough 
—nay, when and where were the experiments 
made that have been sufficient to disprove the 
doctrine of which the Professor speaks so dis¬ 
paragingly ? White bread can be hastily mas¬ 
ticated with little inconvenience. It thus sub¬ 
serves the American tendency to bo't one s 
food. Not so with brown bread. It requires 
prolonged mastication, or the offender re¬ 
ceives a forcible reminder of his haste, as per¬ 
haps did a lady 1 saw, who undertook to bolt 
a Graham cracker as she usually did her white 
bread, aud as a result choked. /« the sensa¬ 
tion of hunger a result of the stomach's beiug 
empty? Surely, the Professor should know 
that ofteu, after we have euteu to repletion, 
there still remains a sensation of hunger ? 
And us to progress in civilization or circum¬ 
stances favoring white bread, it is u little early 
to speak knowingly. We have but hardly 
begun to inquire what diet is suite l to tbe full 
aud highest development ol man. Iu view, 
therefore, of the frequent contradictions 
among scientific experimenters, und since 
human knowledge ut its best is yet very im¬ 
perfect, 1 appeal to that intelligent public 
which tries all things, to suspend judgment, 
especially those who huvu preferred brown 
breud, and to accept no experiments upon 
“dogs,” no experiments upon Germans, no 
experiments except upon yourselves as a final¬ 
ity, for self-experiment is the highest tribunal. 
CHAS. H. SUMNER. 
HINTS. 
Cooked eggs will always tarnish all silver 
or plated-ware with which they come in con 
tact. Remedy; When washing spoons, forks, 
knives, etc., so discolored, take up with a 
damp finger a small quantity of very fine 
table salt, aud gently rub the spot with it; th» 
stain will disappear at ouce. I say use the 
finger, as it is softer aud better than a cloth. 
