242 
APRIL 12 
ding for its new growth, cut back to the second 
bud. 
In the same pot is another plant with pea¬ 
like or locust foliage growing vigorously in 
the midst of other little seedlings just coming 
up from the fresh sowing of a week ago. The 
vine and pea are biennials front last year’s 
planting. 1 used the same pot for sowing 
some early aumtals. 1 can turn the whole 
mass out, separate the roots of grape and pea, 
and put them iu the ground in May. Woman 
as I am, I get the Rural seeds, corn, pota¬ 
toes, wheat, etc. 1 plant the first, year iu the 
garden. The next, I have a lot for my corn. 
My Blount's corn attracted a great deal of at¬ 
tention, as the second year it was planted be¬ 
side the public road, and grew so enormously 
that it became an agricultural curiosity. The 
third year one of my neighbors raised it on 
shares. My potatoes, Beauty of Hebron and 
Elephant, are favorably noticed, and wanted 
by all who see them. Also the Telephone pea. 
It is a great acquisition. I advise all ladies to 
try the pleasure and profit of gardening- 
even beginning iu the house in March. I al¬ 
ways begin in February. This is not too early 
for the patient and plodding. 
I have not brought out my numerous boxes 
and tubs from the cellar yet. Wheu it is 
warm and settled I shall bring them out, clip 
off the dead brauehes, stir the earth around 
the biennials,' sow more seeds, sift over fresh 
earth, aud allow the rain and sun to do the 
rest. I have iu the yard stout posts set in the 
ground with rounded planks nailed on top. 
Upon these t set the tubs that have a chief 
plaut in center, say a calla, and around this 
a row of gladioli, or tube roses, because, 
these plauts require so much water; particu¬ 
larly the calla. Then the plants requir¬ 
ing heat or warmth, I put in sand, such as 
Tradesoantia, pansies, Madeira Vine. My 
large stationary grapevine baskets become 
receptacles for many pot plants—verbenas, 
petunias, etc.; and vines are running all over 
it, hanging in graceful festoons. 
M. DEY ERLE. 
- M l 
A PLEA FOR OUR YOUNG FOLKS. 
EMMA C. STOUT. 
For a few years past our agricultural news¬ 
papers have discussed to the fullest extent the 
reasons why our boys should “ stick to the 
farm. ” The a rguments are not objectionable, 
but the prevailing idea that has grown out. of 
these articles has a tendency to force rural 
people to be rural citizens always. There is 
no more occasion that a farmer’s son shall be 
a farmer than there is that a doctor’s son shall 
be a doctor, or a lawyer’s son a lawyer. It is 
one of the most important items in the found¬ 
ation of a child's life work that its parents 
early ascertain to what labor or profession it 
is naturally inclined. With many children 
uo taste for special work is developed until 
near manhood; and uothing could be more 
beneficial in helping them to decide the great 
question than a college education. But you 
say: “I want Henry to have the old farm, and 
Mary must settle near us to cheer our W iutry 
years.” 
Yes; this would be a fond mother’s ideal, 
yet it lias enough selfls ness iu it often to 
wreck a child's highest success aud happiness. 
Give them the college education—both boys 
and girls—aud let them feel that not even a 
parent’s love will cheat them of their birth¬ 
right. Just as many boys perhaps, will re¬ 
turn to the farm as would stay there under 
the strict command: "Stick to the farm.” 
Then they would be happier for having de¬ 
cided their avocation for themselves. A col¬ 
lege education is worth just as much to rural 
youths as to city fops and belles. Farmer’s 
daughters might easily' hold the highest rank 
in intelligence and refinement if ouly the cus¬ 
tom of college lore for rustics were more pre¬ 
valent.. Debate the question by the Winter 
tire, and see if some offering from vine, tree 
or field cannot be exchanged for sources of 
fruitful knowledge for those who are now the 
light of home, who are bearing the buds of 
Springtime which, under favoring circum¬ 
stances, will mature beauteous flower, and 
rich, rate fruit. You can bestow no worthier 
gift upon their queenly womanhood aud noble 
manhood than a good education—one which 
will lit, them for life's greatest joy and useful¬ 
ness. 
HOME LOVE AND HOME INFLUENCE. 
What a charm is thrown around the 
place we call home, even though it be but a 
rough, unsightly cabin, if within its walls are 
gathered our heart’s treasures, the loved 
ones which God has given us, how gladly we 
turn from gayer scenes to meet the love aud 
sympathy that, never changes, "He setteth 
the solitary in families,” and so he has given 
to ea.h member a tender love, a deep and 
abiding interest, in all that pertains to the 
THE R0BAL NEW-YORKER. 
welfare'of those'eomprising the family'circle. 
What a cheerful sight is a happy family' 
gathering, where love to God and each other 
is the predominenf feature, and when young 
men go forth from such homes to the broad 
field of action, though tears may be shed and 
hearts wiung at their departure, trust them 
in God’s hands, for they are safe, even though 
tempted on every side, and they listen a mo¬ 
ment to the tempter’s wily insinuations, the 
memory of loving hearts at home will keep 
them from treading far the downward path 
that surely leads to ruin and disgrace. It 
will not render t hem less worthy to be trusted 
aud honored among men, though every 
thought of home moisten the eyes and send a 
thrill through the heart. The unthinking may 
call it a weakness, but is it not. rather 
strength? and that, too, of the right kind; 
one that shall lead to the upholding of all 
true aud noble principles, ant* the puttiug 
down with a firm hand all that is base and 
wrong? Metbinks that, child is not far from 
ruin who has no tender memories of home 
love, that, sheltered and cherished him in 
childhood, and no affection for those who 
gathered with him within its w alls; but Is he 
alone to blame: Perhaps his home was never 
made "the dearest spot on earth” for him. 
Let us look to it that we always gather within 
onr homes the suulight of love, aud when 
loved ones go from our doors, send out w ith 
them its smile, that will ever lure them back 
to its portals. Let “the light iu the window'” 
be the lamp of love, that shall burn night and 
day, uudimmed, shining not ouly r for the sake 
of our own loved ones, but for all who wan¬ 
der aloue, homeless and friendless, emma m. 
Domestic Cconomt) 
CONDUCTED BY EMIJ-Y MAPLE. 
A TALK WITH “CHARITY SWEET¬ 
HEART” AND HER FATHER. 
“ Charity” gives us a dark picture of the 
farm, farmers' homes and farmers’ girls. 1 
am glad that I have seen a brighter one; one 
w r here refinement, neatness, and many graces, 
both of body aud mind, love to dwell; w’here 
books and pictures grace the walls, aud the 
notes of piano and flute harmonize with glad 
young voices: where flowers and vines adorn 
windows and yard; where order and thrift 
carry the palm; where tables glitter with sil¬ 
ver and glass and snowy linen, and buttery 
and cellar are stocked with good cheer. The 
farm and farm-life are what we make them. 
If husband and wife, parents and children, 
pull together, life need not be uncouth, dreary, 
selfish or narrow, though sometimes circum¬ 
scribed. Alas! (here is the rub. In too mauy 
cases these do not pull together. The evil is 
in t.be family, not in the business. A wise, 
kindly-uatured man, w ho has the good of his 
family at heart, cau and will be influenced by 
wife aud daughters to make improvements in 
house aud grounds as fast as he is able; to 
educate his children, and to furnish books and 
periodicals for their improvement and enter¬ 
tainment. A hard, wicked man indeed, is he 
who cannot be influenced by gentle tact and a 
loving, confidential routiner Try these means, 
disappointed, home-sick daughters, and see if 
they' will not work a charm. Don't run down 
a farmer’s life to him, bub set to w ork to make 
some new attraction iu it. .Study your fath¬ 
er’s peculiarities. Don’t try to drive him, if 
be is as stubborn as a mule, but try coaxing 
and pleasing. Use energy, tact and love, and 
ten chances to one that you will succeed. I 
heard an educated man say, lust week, that 
the tillers of the soil were Nature’s noblemen, 
aud that the genuine country gentlemen have 
the first aud the highest claim to the title, far 
ahead of the professional man or merchant. 
Do you doubt this? Look over the history of 
agriculture iu America, Bee the elegant furin- 
houses in every Btate. Then look at the cul¬ 
tivated men aud women who inhabit these 
homes; at, the children who lia'ro gone out 
from them to grace legislative, college and 
music halls, and all the departments of useful 
as well as honorable labor. W as uot our be¬ 
loved Whittier reared in the humblest of 
farm-houses: What of Lincoln and Garfield? 
Yes, there is another side, aud a very dark 
.side, to farm file; but the trouble lies in the 
family —not in the farm. If your home is 
small, cramped, inconvenient and unfurnished, 
it would be the same did you live in town 
under like conditions. If father and mother 
have started out w mug, it will breed discontent 
and clashing interests in the family. But try 
my rule awhile, Miss Charity; don't treat 
your father or big brother as if be w ere the 
embodiment of everything disugreeuble, but 
devote yourself to smoothing out some of the 
tangles; cultivate something pleasant in the 
house that is within y our roach a few beuuti 
ful plants, the cooking of some healthful arti 
ole of food in a now fashion, the tasteful ar 
rangement of the table, flowers in’a vase,'and 
a single blossom by tired father’s and mother’s 
plates. Don't think it too much trouble to 
“’dress” for father and the boy's; plan a pleas¬ 
ant surprise for them—an iuvited guest, a little 
party; work, aud earn the money for a birth¬ 
day or a Christmas gift; a subscription for a 
first-class magazine or newspaper, would please 
the father well. Make your brother a birth¬ 
day-cake or plum-pudding, aud he will vote 
you the “best sister in the world.V Depend 
upon it, it will peni in the coin you like best, 
and the next time you want a little help about 
“ fixing up,” he will take hold with right goo. t 
will. 
And now', a word to men, like Charity’s 
father. You wonder why y'our sons and daugh¬ 
ters were so anxious to leave the farm aud 
choose other occupations which, you are sure, 
will not pay as well. The reason is obvious. 
Your children will not keep on with you if 
you persist in keeping them a century behind 
the times. Young men aud women of all 
trades and professions are perfecting them¬ 
selves iu their various e tilings, attending sci¬ 
entific lectures, reading scientific books, aud 
studying improvements in every department 
of labor. Mark their progress! To the iu- 
telligeut, educated farmer, the farm holds out 
far more delightful inducements tliau any 
trade. He enters his profession with a desire 
aud determination to elevate it, aud succeeds, 
too, in proportion as he is able to combiue his 
forces. Opportunities for agricultural train¬ 
ing are opening over the eutire country, and 
parents would do well to avail themselves of 
these privileges. 
The farm must be made attractive. It is 
not enough that it be made a paying concern, 
neither is it sufficient that you speud money' 
in fine buildings and conveniences for doing 
work—there is, in many cases, need enough 
of this—but attention should be paid to each 
individual taste aud want, aud scope provided 
for those faculties iu your children, which re¬ 
quire change, amusement aud knowledge. 
Keep ever.v holiday. They are fen r enough. 
Don’t think it too much trouble to set up a 
Christmas tree; sacredly remember and cele¬ 
brate every one of your children's birthdays, 
and encourage some pleasing games for the 
long Winter evenings. 
Do you say that this is all fol-de-rol? Then, 
my dear sir, make up your mind to lose your 
children. Should they remain on the farm, 
they are as surely lost to you as if they w'ent 
out into the world; your hard, selfish treat¬ 
ment will either drive them to swift destruc¬ 
tion or cause them to sink down into listless 
drudges. Let US be boys and girls wdtta our 
children, warm in onr sympathies, large in 
our generosities, reasonable iu onr exactions 
and living, as regards the externals, in such a 
manner that our young folks need not be 
ashamed to invite their town friends to spend 
a week with them. Your children would 
look with altered eyes upon the farm life, 
and what a different aspect would mauy a 
farm-house wear! Throw about your boys aud 
girls all those helps and encouragements to 
service so reasonable, so delightful and profit¬ 
able, if you would have your farm blossom 
like the rose, and your home aud heart bask 
iu the sunshine of happiness. 
MRS. HELEN H. S. THOMPSON. 
A FARMER'S DAUGHTER'S DOMESTIC 
REVERIES.—NO 6, 
CHARITY SWEETHEART. 
March 27th. —What a number of kind 
friends have sought to help me since I began 
*these reveries! It makes me thankful that 
there is such a raediurnas the Rural, through 
whicti we girls, us well as our brothers aud 
fathers, can make knowu our thoughts and 
needs, and be helped by those of large expe¬ 
rience. 1 don’t think 1 shall complain another 
Winter, for 1 am trying to help myself to bear 
bravely my little trials. (,>uito lately some 
one sent me the Emerson Calendar. It was a 
pleasant gift, and I often wonder at the appro¬ 
priate words it contains, so helpful and en¬ 
couraging that a verse read sets me thinking 
the whole duy. Yesterday it read: 
“ He who liasu thoiisaml friends, lias not u friend to 
spare, 
And he who has one enemy, will meet him every¬ 
where.” 
Aud to-day part of the quotation was: 
“ Hiteh your wagon to a star. Let us not fng In pul. 
try- works.” 
The other day I fell like grumbling over the 
mud and the rain, and because the lamp chim¬ 
neys got so smoky from using bud oil, and 
Tom went to wrestling with another boy and 
hud every button torn oil' bis jacket, and gut 
a black eye, so that he looked like a rowdy. 
But when 1 turned to the calendar 1 fouutl 
Emerson said; “ I find the gayest castles in 
the air, that ever were filled, are better for 
comfort and for use limn the dungeons that 
are daily dug. and caverned out by grumbling, 
discontented people,” It did me good, and 
cheered me, in spite of Tom’s appearance and 
the cloudy skies. I think this time of year is 
very r discouraging to housekeepers: one can 
keep the spiders clown, but the dirt shows on 
the ceilings. There is a sort of used-up feel¬ 
ing about everything, and my shoulders and 
anus ache from trying to keep the house tidy 
by regular sweeping. But it will uot keep 
“swept,’’even from one meal to another. I 
feel better, however, for my Winter’s studies, 
aud am determined to keep up my botany aud 
geology out of-doors in Summer. The worst 
trouble with country girls is that they do not 
know the plants when they see them, and it is 
not always easy to truce them without a 
teacher. City girls tell me they learn these 
things in classes, and I think we are often be¬ 
hind them in this knowledge, though we have 
the best opportunities for observation. 
March 28th.—'Writing the date this evening 
I just begin to realize that Winter is over, at 
least the long evenings of leisure. Now they 
are gone 1 look back on them with regret, and 
I wish—oh! so much—that some way could be 
fouud for self-improvement among the few iu 
every country jil ace who desire it. Last uight 
the boys had some of their churns in to spend 
the eveuiug. I made it comfortable for them; 
gave them apples aud cookies, and some other 
little refreshments. They studied the back 
numbers of the Rural, admired the flue 
points of all the cows, aud talked them over 
quite knowingly. After awhile their voices 
sank almost to a whisper, and, though I was 
preparing uiy geology lesson for the “Study 
at Home,” I took time to gratify my curiosity, 
as I approached to pass the apples, as to vvliat 
they were talking about, and to my intense 
disgust, I fouud it was rats. Bix boys, or 
rather young men—as most of them would be 
called if they lived iu a city—talking seriously 
of how many rats they had killed, aud telling 
wonders of their prowess! Ugh! it’s horrid. 
Willie Peters seemed to be chief story-teller, 
aud the rest sat open-mouthed and listened, 
saying now aud then, “Gosb!” “ By Heck!” 
“Golly!” and 1 went back to my seat in de¬ 
spair, aud yet a girl is blamed for wanting 
something better, and told to remember that 
the boys work hard and have uot had time for 
improvement. But 1 kuow they might im¬ 
prove if they cared to do so. After awhile 
Willie Peters looked up (he’s as old as I am, 
but seems a boy!, and says be: “ What "ology 
are you studying now, sis?” Now if there is 
anything I dislike, it is to be patronized and 
called *’sis”; 80 I saul coldly: ‘“You wouldn’t 
understand if l told you, AH'. Peters, there 
are uo rats in it,” I saw lie was cut, but he 
ouly launched out iuto sneers at study and at 
girls who get above their surroundings. Aud 
that is something yet to be learned among 
some youug people, that these studies are our 
surrouudings. I feel glad Spring is coming, 
for wheu one gets over April first., there is uo 
mistaking the feeling. It brings work, of 
course, aud house-cleaning looks very hard; 
but there are so many’ pleasant things, it is 
comforting. Aud so I go out to battle with 
the funny calves that have lately come, and 
think how happy they are in having mothers, 
and I let the boy's bring the weakly lamhs 
in to the kitchen fire without grumbling at 
the muss, for it will soon pass by now, and the 
robins will come. 
RAG CARPET. 
1 shall have to make a new carpet this 
Spring: that means lots of tedious work, and 
nearly as much expense as hemp or wool car¬ 
pet ready-made. But 1 have the rags accu¬ 
mulated during two years (the worn-out gar¬ 
ments of a large family), and, then, Mother 
sent rue a lot last Fall. I have uot myself 
much time for cutting nud sewing, so a neigh¬ 
bor offered to cut und sew for five cents a 
pound. 1 expect my carpet will cost at least 
26 cents a y'ard, when finished. But I expect 
it to wear about three times as long as a store 
carpet costing twice that price. I shall get 
coarse Pittsburgh chains of good color—red 
aud yellow, 1 think—as those colors are least 
likely to be made tender in coloring. 1 will 
ask the weaver to warp it one or two threads 
of each alternating. My filliug will be 
striped. I don't think it pays to color much, 
and it is not necessary, if oue is a little careful 
when purchasing new calicoes, to get good 
colors. The present style of iutligo blue calico 
makes nice carpet rags when woven. White 
rags I color silver, drab or purple as follows: 
For five pounds of goods allow one teaspoon¬ 
ful each of alum and logwood. Boil well to¬ 
gether, then dip the goods one hour. If not 
dark enough, add alum and logwood in equal 
parts. 1 made a carpet for my' stairs two 
years ago. As my way of liavlug stair-carpet 
woven was now in this neighborhood, it may 
be new to some of the Rural ladies. It was 
as follows: I selected the brightest rags. The 
chain was brown, und some of the chain was 
woven in every half yard, for hemming. The 
stripe consisted of: center, two threads yel 
