“interesting” book is three by four-and-a-half 
inches in size, containing eight pages with 14 
wood-cuts of the rudest sort, printed on the 
very coarsest kiud of paper. While there is 
nothing bad in the “book,” or good either, 
the swindle consists in charging 2(1 cents for 
what would be dear at one cent, aud in so 
wording the advertisement as to induce a cer¬ 
tain class to buy it. Though the wretched 
little fraud is advertised by “the King Novel¬ 
ty Company” of Williamsburg, it is really 
published by W. H. Sizer, of New York, 
whose name has already appeared twice in this 
department. 
According to the Western Rural, of Chica¬ 
go, of April 10, the Ciuciunati Ledger, which 
advertises to make “life loans.” is the same 
sort of a fraud as W. Roberts, of the same 
city, whose uame has already found a place 
here twice, aud who offers loans at four per 
cent, on personal security. The Michigan 
Loan and Publishing Company, which offers 
loans at 3J4 per cent, interest, is a humbug of 
the same stripe. 
4ov Wotwfit. 
CONDUCTED BY MISC RAY CLARK. 
THE OLD KITCHEN, AND ITS INFLU¬ 
ENCE. 
In the city kitcheu where a well trained Brid¬ 
get reigns supreme, we only see the apparatus 
necessaiy to prepare food for the nourishment 
of the body. But the sight of order and neatness 
is ever agreeable, and we may take pleasure in 
surveying the well polished rauge, the ket¬ 
tles and toilers, and rows of tinware deftly 
arranged: the well-worn broom hanging be¬ 
hind the door near its neighbor the dust-pan, 
all give us a feeling of respect for the rosy 
damsel who, at stated times, sends to the 
dining-room above the juicy steak, the mealy 
potatoes, the fragrant coffee, or savory pud¬ 
ding, accompanied by bread from the bakers, 
or canned fruit from the nearest grocery* store. 
In the city mansion the kiteheu is merely one 
department of an extensive establishment, an 
important one to be sure, aud on the skillful 
management of whose affairs the comfort of 
the whole household largely depends; but it is 
not the heart of the house like the genuine 
country kitchen. 
There, where the mistress of the house not 
only plans the labors of the day or week, but 
performs the larger part of it herself, the kitch¬ 
en becomes the real home of the family. 
Even where there is a sitting-room and par¬ 
lor attachment to the farm-house, the best 
part of the lives of the family are developed 
and spent in the kitchen. No running to the 
butcher’s or grocer’s there, when company ap¬ 
pears unexpectedly; hut nearly everything 
eatable aud much of the weal ing apparel is 
here prepared from the raw material. Here 
the skillful cook prepares delicious loaf cake, 
or cookies that will melt in the mouth, aud 
mince pies, whose flavor aud odor as they 
come steaming from the oven are unequaled 
in excellence. With e butter bowl and ladle 
hopes the comely prints of butter checked 
across tue top, the golden hue of which needs 
no artificial color to make it inviting; The 
old fashioned spinuing wheel may often be 
seen in one corner doing quiet duty at the bid¬ 
ding of the ready operator. 
Modern improvements are there as well, for 
your true farmer’s wife is prompt to see where 
her labors may be lightened, and the sewing 
machine stands at the sunniest window, hold¬ 
ing, when not in use, a pot of profusely bloom¬ 
ing scarlet geraniums. The wall-basket, near 
by, holds the weekly papers. The wasb-bench, 
with basin aud necessary toilet fixtures,occupy 
a retired place behind the door, but do not jar 
on the general inviting aspect of things. A 
pleasant scene while the varied labors of the 
day are being accomplished, but truly **. rest¬ 
ing place after the kitchen is tidied up for the 
afternoon. 
When occasionally the neighbors come in to 
spend a winter evening, the apples are warmed 
in a bright milk-pan and passed around, and 
the well-posted farmers discuss the topics of 
the day while they sample the Yellow Bell¬ 
flowers or Bald wins, and the women exchange 
interesting experiences of their own. 
A man whose early years have been spent 
in such a house, hut who is coming to matu¬ 
rity. has gone from the farm to the greater 
temptations and perhaps fuller life of the 
large city, ought ever to be more fixed in the 
principles of rectitude than others reared in a 
different manner. 
In no other walks of life can parents and 
children be as much together. Did not the 
boy learn his first lessons of usefulness by 
rocking the cradle to help mother; did not 
order grow from his habit, at stated times, of 
rounding the wood-box with stove wood; and 
punctuality get to be a second nature by regu¬ 
larly attending, with his father, to the wants 
of the cattle, sheep and poultry ! 1 
Can the grown man ever forget, ainid the 
business crookedness he sees practiced around 
him, how his unpretending parents ever dealt 
honestly with every one and sturdily defended 
what they believed was right when the occa¬ 
sion demanded it? It is said that the memory 
of a mother's cooking always haunts a good 
man; does he not also keenly realize the worth 
of the moral culture he received in the family 
kitchen? B. c. D. 
A WORD HERE AND THERE. 
Have been reading with interest, “A far¬ 
mer’s Daughter’s Domestic Reveries,” No. <i. I 
do not see all of the Ru rals, as I have my copy 
sent to mother aud I have not read her other 
reveries, but I like this one and wish I might 
do something, say something to cheer her. 
Don’t blame her, we all have so very many 
trials, but if we have a mother it helps so 
much to tell her, and who, but those who have 
had to live without one, knows the dreary void 
in a child's heart, when memory of a mother 
is all that is left for her, aud sometimes that 
even is denied. A motherless girl, she should 
be a charge in every mother’s heart and 1 often 
think “Oh! to live till my baby girl is grown 
up, and safe in some way.” 
And I say to “C. 8 .” work on, I w ant you 
to succeed, and believe there is a bright fu¬ 
ture before you. The poor tired school teach¬ 
er, who has been worried, and worn out, w'ith 
the care of so mauy rough, almost unmanage¬ 
able boys, wishes with her whole heart, for 
the last day of the term; but surprises herself, 
when it does come, by au unaccountable and 
sudden feeling of half tenderness for those 
who have tried her so often, and the last room 
she slept in, in the last house she “boarded 
around,” looks strangely familiar and home 
like, as she is entering it for the last time. Aud 
the gii’l who loves her home and home faces, 
wishes all the more for home and home faces 
of her own, she is none the less loyal to 
childhood ties, but when the time comes for 
her to go, like a scroll all disagreeable thiugs 
roll away and only love is left which brightens 
aud gilds all the past. F. r those w ho love the 
best, suffej most in this march we are all tak¬ 
ing, and it will not, lie long before all, both 
just and unjust trials will be things of the past, 
for equals at last we will be when “Carried 
out to slumber where the violets lie.” 
I am tempted to make au offer to the Ru¬ 
ral lady readers. I “exchanged” once iu, or 
through the exchange column of “The House¬ 
hold,” and the sisters responded so generously 
that we seriously contemplated buying a dray- 
cart and horse to bring up the papers 
and letters and bundles aud packages 
and cards and boxes. There is au iron ore 
mine in full blast here, aud the different stra¬ 
ta of earth, are handsome enough to grace 
any cabinet. I have a dozen specimens before 
me now, no two exactly alike. They have 
been whittled into various shapes, as the con¬ 
sistency is about that of putty, being a little 
harder and can be moulded in any form. One 
is the shape of a large stopple; there are three 
colors in it, white aud two shades of brown, a 
layer of light brown mottled with white; 
there is a cube of light aud dark brown stripes 
alternating; a square, looking so much like 
castile soap that you could not tell the differ¬ 
ence; a triangle of rich, dark brown, and a 
chunk of wide pretty stripes running diago¬ 
nally, and mauy others; they are all handsome. 
1 began makiug my collection, only two years 
ago; gathered it piece by piece, and am now 
proud of it. I guess I will make this proposal 
because I want all who love such thiugs and 
live where Old Mother Earth does not produce 
them, to have them So if any of my Rural 
friends want them enough to pay the postage 
which will be about 12 cents, it will be a 
pleasure for me to prepare and send some of 
the prettiest specimens. 
I wish Aunt Em. would tell us how she binds 
the hooks, that she speaks of in the Rural of 
April 13th, 
My “Rural Garden Treasures” have already 
pushed their heads above the earth in the di¬ 
vers boxes 1 have edged in the window and 
chair, tor the present and when the flower 
beds are made they will be already to get to 
blossoming. I have a single scarlet geranium, 
whose leaves measure inches across. My 
house plants looked nicer thau usual this Win¬ 
ter and l know it is due to showering them, for 
every three or four days since I put them into 
pots, last fall, I have put them into a dish pun 
half filled with clear hike warm water, and 
with a large sponge have thoroughly showered. 
One white geranium which is in u small oyster 
can containing less thau a quart of earth, has 
leaves 5 inches across and plenty of blossoms. 
With a fork I kept the dirt, loosened some¬ 
what, and occasionally sprinkled with soot 
from the kitcheu stove pipe, where wood has 
been used. eva amks. 
A PLEA FOR FANCY WORK. — ITS 
QUIETING INFLUENCE. 
Who can tell how much quiet enjoyment 
Mary Queen of Scots and her ladies iu attend¬ 
ance found in all that embossed work in silk 
which remains on the walls of the room to-day 
in the Edinborough Castle? At first glance 
we say, “How absurd, so much waste of 
time!” Not so. While they sat working one 
of the ladies read, aloud. They found solace 
and companionship in sorting out colors, and 
arranging them to suit the eye. The sensitive 
delicately organized brain of women need 
some such condiment to soothe them. Who 
does not know how a little quiet needlework, 
or knitting work, restores nerves' We are so 
constituted that employment brings happi¬ 
ness ; the feeling of desolation vanishes when 
the hands are busy. Even Buuyan, in jail, 
found consolation iu making tagged laces for 
the support of his wife and children. And 
Burns composed his “Highland Mary” follow¬ 
ing the plow. 
We know a woman, bed ridden for 20 years 
and upwards, who has her bed covered with 
nick-nacks, all the work of her own hands. 
“The time seems so much shorter,” she said, 
when we asked how can you accomplish so 
much? It is pleasant to listen to music, the 
nervous aud jaded find rest in it, but the per¬ 
former, uuless devoted to the art, rises from 
the instrument more or less wearied. Not so 
with embroideries, or any kind of fancy work, 
when done for recreation only. “1 enjoy it so 
I cannot leave it.” we hear them say. “This 
sorting out wools, and silks, is so very fasci¬ 
nating.” We should hear less of over-study in 
schools aud mothers’ complaints that their 
delicate daughters complain of pressure on 
thi head and sleepless nights, if the Euglish 
custom of allowing one afternoon in the week 
for sewing, while the teacher or one of the 
pupils read from some interesting and instruc¬ 
tive book, aloud, we think that the average 
pupil would find great gain in the end. 
Strong-minded women will cry out against 
such teaching, but remember, we are not 
all stroug-miuded enough to give up the sooth¬ 
ing and restful influence of fancy work, which 
adds so much of charm to oUr sitting-rooms, 
and helps to awaken old memories, pleasant 
thoughts of by-gone days, and which to the 
young is a means of bringing them often to¬ 
gether for social and elevating conversation. 
M. H. S. 
- *+* - 
KEEP YOUR LIPS. 
In .the desire to make a girl feel at home 
and pleased with her place, the young house¬ 
keeper is sometimes apt to take her too closely 
into her confidence, especially if she is a pleas¬ 
ant girl, aud useful in the house. But it is a 
very dangerous practice, and almost always 
makes trouble. All ma 3 T go well enough while 
she is with 3 -ou, but in the chances aud changes 
of life she may and probabl 3 * will drift into 
some other kitchen, where all the news she 
has gathered in 3 ‘ours may be rehearsed with¬ 
out stint. She will not discriminate with re¬ 
gard to those thiugs you have strictly enjoined 
her “not to tell.” In fact, those will likely 
be the first points “ fished out” of her by some 
meddlesome woman. There is a surprising 
enjo 3 - tuent in being the first to “tell news,” 
and an inexperienced, undisciplined girl, will 
rarely be found who cau resist the tempta¬ 
tion. 
You can treat a girl with perfect kindness 
and yet not give yourself into her power. 
Keep your own counsel about your own affairs. 
Do not let her sympathy, or great interest 
beguile 3 'ou into relating what you are not 
quite willing to have told over iu other places. 
This is even more important in the case of 
transient help, like washerwomen and house- 
cleaners. If they show' a disposition to treat 
you to the neighborhood news, set a double 
watch over your own lips and spare your 
comments on your neighbors’ short-comings. 
It is a homely old saying, but one with much 
force in it, that “a dog that will fetch a bone 
will carry one.” One has seen a whole neigh¬ 
borhood set “at odds” by these mischief- 
makers. I had a most excellent washer and 
ironer in the Summer, who could almost do 
twoda 3 r s’ washing in one, but she had the tor 
rible habit of falsifying almost every state¬ 
ment she made. 1 soon resigned to her. send¬ 
ing the washiug out of the house. 1 knew that 
one who could so persistently mis-state facts 
was not a safe person to have iu the house, 
that she would “invent facts” to repeat to 
other people that would not fail to make 
trouble. 
Keep your own counsel with regard to fam¬ 
ily affairs, that you are not willing to have 
proclaimed upon the house top, especially with 
regard to matters that may give you unhappi¬ 
ness. There is a class in every community 
that doats especially on domestic infelicities, 
and they will spy one out with the keenness of 
a ferret. It is not pleasant to have one’s-self 
“talked about” iu a community, aud 3 ’et it is 
very sure to follow these ill-advised “confi¬ 
dences” with hired help Motes are magnified 
into matters of most serious moment, and sto¬ 
ries grow by traveling like a snow-hall in deep 
snow. OLIVE. 
Domestic (£ccmcmn} 
CONDUCTED BY EMILY MAPLE. 
A FARMER'S DAUGHTER'S DOMESTIC 
REVERIES. 
CHARITY SWEETHEART. 
April 2d.—I sowed seeds to-ebry in boxes 
in the kitchen window. I try it ever> r year, 
but seldom succeed. One year they all damped 
off; another the catscratched them all up, and 
if any do survive tbey«ro weakaudspindling. 
Father does not think much of growing flow¬ 
ers, though he admires them sometimes when 
I put them ou the table at tea-time. Poor 
father! he has had to work so hard, he has not 
had time to look after these things. I have 
saved seed of the best flowers of what few va¬ 
rieties I have; but they will run out, espe¬ 
cially pansy seed, aud that is my favorite. 
One of the boj’s brought in a few twigs of 
willow awhile ago, without any sign of bud 
on them, and they were put into water by 
chance, and presently became quite a curiosi¬ 
ty .putting forth catkins and leaves as if Spring 
had come. I threw them away to-day, for 
willows are here; but l found that they had 
made long, white roots in the water. Nothing 
stays idle—it is either growth or decay all the 
time, a daily and hourly lesson to us all. 
I was a little taken by surprise at “Bene¬ 
dict’s” idea of my sentence about housework 
not being a “profession.” I wish it was; but 
sa 3 dng it ou paper does not make it so. I feel 
that I have the skill to wash “pots and ket¬ 
tles” even scientifically, and enjoy making 
flaky pie crust (though no one ran make it as 
good as the mothers did'. I like to make the 
house tidy from garret to cellar and clean up 
hopefully every morning after the boys go to 
work. 1 don’t mind mud tracks or Burt’s 
whittlings. I sweep them all out and begin 
again, trying to hope on, aud 1 thiuk I could 
make a liviug by m 3 f bread and butter and 
“cream biscuits,” if I were obliged to do so. 
But while people talk about these thiugs, they 
are loth to try to realize them. I can count a 
dozen girls in my neighborhood who are situ¬ 
ated as I am. They have not sufficient educa¬ 
tion to fill an> T situation except that, of third- 
class teachers, perhaps; but they hare learned 
all the details of housekeeping, and take 
pleasure in keeping a well-set table. Some 
rua 3 ' marry; but there are others of 11 s who 
do not care to settle down with anystruggling 
farmer we know, aud do not look upon that 
as our aim iu life. (I shall catch it for this 
when the “boi/s” read it.) In course of time 
our mission in the old home will be accom¬ 
plished. What are we to do? If, by any 
magic, the art of housekeeping could he made 
au honorable “profession,” hundreds of girls 
would find their vocation. But oh! “Bene¬ 
dict,” I once went to a registry office with a 
friend, aud saw who were likely to bo my com¬ 
panions; and 1 have visited iu houses where 
servants were kept, aud did not blame them 
so much as the system. You might get a 
“lady” to cook for you; there are many who 
would be glad to offer their services to one 
who would not forget their ladyhood; but we 
all know the present social position of this 
butt of the comic papers, which often err 
through ignorance. But this does uot make 
my future brighter, though I might pass for 
a professional cook. 
- » » «- 
TO CHARITY SWEETHEART. 
Though I um afraid you are growing mor¬ 
bid, Charity, still I can sympathize with you 
without looking down from greater bights of 
culture than you have yet attained, and bid 
you try to climb no farther. I have been a 
farmer’s daughter, aud am now a farmer’s 
wife, which position I have occupied for the 
last fifteen years. Much of the troubles and 
discouragements you speak of are familiar to 
me. My husband is not au unkind man by 
any moans. His worst dissipation is au occa¬ 
sional cigar, to which I do not object, but 
(how much that word covers) his hoots, coats, 
hats, etc., are generally scattered from bed¬ 
room through dining-room, kitchen and back- 
entay, aud oven away out-of-doors, if the 
weather be fine. In the morning it is “Ed., 
where are my boots? Charlie, get my socks, 
quick! Mother, have you seen my hat?” 
“ Did you look under the lounge?” I reply in 
accents as mild as possible, to avert the coming 
storm. Oh! the trials and tribulations I Lave 
endured on the scoru of those garments. The 
chairs are all defaced by his boots. (I forgot 
to mention he wears No. 11 !) He usually sits 
in one chair with feet placed in another or on 
the lounge, and as his weight is iu due propor¬ 
tion to the size of his boots, you can imagine 
how hard it is to keep respectable-looking 
furniture. I am quite as much troubled as 
you are by bad grammar aud uncouth pro¬ 
nunciation; but I have learned that much had 
better be endured before husbands or brothers 
5 are driven to loaf iu bar-rooms or otlnr low 
