THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
514 
be if I used all my energy in such ways as 
making their sheets and night-dresses and 
stockings smooth. It would seem good to 
have everything just so—all the clothes smooth 
ly ironed, and the house “spick and span” 
from top to bottom. It would seem good to 
have it done by somebody who is able, and to 
just enjoy it myself: but this cannot be; with 
me, the choice lies between this and themcaus 
of culture, and I choose a little time for read¬ 
ing, pniutiug and music; for wearing white 
dresses summer afternoons, and soft dresses 
and pretty neckties in TV inter, and for placing 
pleasant things—incentives to line thought 
in the way of my family: in the parlor and 
on the dining table. 
I would never advise an overworked wo¬ 
man to save her strength by allowing the un¬ 
derclothes and night clothes and beds of the 
family to go dirty. To suy nothing else, it 
vitos sickness anil death, and saves nothing 
the long run; besides producing a strong 
tendency towards reversion to barbarism. 
Hut such a woman, who scrubs and scours, 
„nd irons and irons, to make those garments 
“slick' 1 which are to be worn the next night, 
or out into rough work the next day, is, to 
say the least, foolish 
There was Mrs. Blank; her coarsest towels, 
and all the rags that happened in the wash, 
wore folded and ironed us scrupulously as her 
best, dinner napkins; all were done lieautiful- 
ly, and all her housework in the same style. 
Unconciously to herself, the technicalities of 
her work were for years, no doubt, the chief 
end of her existence. All her love for the 
beautiful went out in this way.' She had no 
time for becoming interested in her children, 
no strength or thought for entertaining her 
family. They went their own way r s, and in 
her last days when she was laid up aud bad 
time to thiuk, she said: ‘If I could live my 
life over, 1 would put my main streugth into 
something that would not rumple up and 
spoil wiih the using.’ 
My housework is but u means to gain a re¬ 
sult, and I am owning to you that I take the 
shortest cuts, and use the simplest means pos¬ 
sible. In cooking I use no heavy kettles, and 
dirty just as few dishes as possible. On the 
table we Use as many dishes as good taste and 
convenience demand. 1 manage many ways 
to save the soiling of outside clothes. The 
boys wear their second rate flannel shirts iu 
their dirty work on the farm; then when they 
get through and wash up, they put on their 
gray flannel their sailor rig, as they call it— 
or their white shirts; so, besides saving their 
best clothes and saving washing, they are 
clean and wholesome for the parlor # I am 
careful about soiling my outside dresses, and 
they make mo very little trouble after being 
once arranged for the season. 
I will not tlreyou by any more of my thous¬ 
and and one contrivances. There is, after all, 
a pleasuse m conquering the situation; in 
bringing much out of a little. But the groat 
result 1 wish to uebieve, is to make home a 
pleasant place every day for my husband ami 
children, and every one else whom we take 
in; to make it, a nursery for all the good 
things 1 wish to have grow in my children’s 
lives in future years ” perse verb. 
TUE VALUE OF GOSSAMER. 
Only one yard of gossamer waterproof I A 
simple thing, yet of real value. In this catch¬ 
ing weather-climate, it is wise to carry this 
gossamer square in an under-pocket, where, 
neatly folded, it occupies scarcely more room 
thuu a pocket handkerchief and is very light 
weight. If a shower comes up, cover your 
hat; if cold, wour as a shawl. 
Starting out, oue very warm day, for a ride, 
no outside wrap was needed; but Boon the 
wind began to blow and grow cold and pierc¬ 
ing; my square of wuterproof proved a good 
shawl aud prevented a cold. Another time, 
while at u summer resort on the Atlantic 
coast, a heavy shower came up suddenly. 
What should 1 do, with only a sun umbrella 
aud summer silk dress on? Retreutiug to a 
tent near by and gathering up my dress near¬ 
ly to the waist, 1 put the waterproof on allow¬ 
ing it to hang down behind as little girls 
put on their mothers’ aprons, at the same 
time holding the umbrella mostly in frout, 
the drippings fell harmlessly on the rubber, 
aud, save with dampened feet, reached my 
room unharmed. 
Then, while a guest, spread the rubber over 
nice earpets by the wash stand or iu front of 
the looking glass while combing the hair, or 
over the bed as extra covering, (t need be. 
If about to pay a visit for a week or two, aud 
only desiring hand baggage, procure a thiu 
pasteboard flower or feather box to serve as a 
valise. It can be packed full and not be heavy 
either. Cover it neatly with the gossamer, 
confine by a shawl strap, aud it is a conveni¬ 
ent, light, nice-looking package, which no rain 
can dampen. 
Folded under a thin shawl it answers all the 
purposes of a thick one. 
It served a good turn on another occasion. 
A friend, her husband and myself, one even¬ 
ing rode iu an open buggy to attend a fair. 
The sky looked showery,so wo took an umbrella 
and “dreadnnught” shawl, thinking them am 
pie protection. But instead of an April show¬ 
er, the rain fell in torrents; there seemed no 
let-up to it, and wo started for home. The 
middle occupant of the sent would save his 
hat: but what of the lady on either side, with 
her new summer hat with delicate trimmings? 
Fortunately the rubber square cauie to mind, 
and being large enough to cover head aud 
shoulders, was a perfect shield from the pour¬ 
ing rain, while the oue umbrella would cover 
the other two persons. 
In fact, it is a real emergency article, cost¬ 
ing only one dollar. “riverside.” 
A TRUE INCIDENT. 
Some time ago the children’s ward for in¬ 
curables, in one of the large hospitals, was 
frequently visited by ayoutig lady, who took 
great interest, in the little oues. Meeting the 
nurse, oue day on entering, she asked: 
“Are there any new ones since my last 
visit <” 
“Two, I think. One brought in yesterday. 
Been mn over—she’s very bad, too.” 
After speaking to several, whose eyes bright¬ 
ened at, her coratug, the lady stood by the cot 
where the ttmimod little body lay. The great 
pathetic eyes lifted so appealingly to hers, 
moved her strangely. 
“What can I do for you, my dear ? Is there 
something you would like to have ?” 
“ Yes’m n parasol.” 
“A parasol t but my child you could not use 
it here, you know. Had you not rather have 
a pretty doll, and some nice fruit ?” 
“No’m, I’d rather have a parasol—a lacy 
one—more’n anv other thing.” 
“Very well. I’ll bring you one to-morrow,” 
and giving her a pretty picture, she went 
away; but that strange fancy haunted her, and 
after returning home, and fearing that the 
little life might slip away before the morrow, 
she asked one of her brothers to go out with 
her to make the purchase, as It was nearly 
dusk. 
‘ Just like Mary,” he laughingly said. “If 
the child had asked for the moon she would 
have been devising some plan to get it for her. 
Suppose we buy a box of flannels to send to 
India same time, Mary.” 
Parasols were out of season, and the clerk 
looked so amazed when she asked for them 
that she felt obliged to explain. 
“I think we have a very few expensive ones 
laid by,” he said. 
After some dulay they wore brought, when 
one daintily-lined, lace-trimmed was selected, 
and bought for five dollars; then proceeding 
to the hospital, she sent the beautiful gift up 
to the child. 
“1 never saw auythiug like it,” the nurse 
said next day to the giver. “Hhe laughed and 
cried, and hugged and kissed it, and it has 
really seemed to make her forget her pain.” 
Nearly a week the child lingered, aud then 
with her wasted hand grasping the dainty 
handle the little waif—who had found both 
Life and Death bo hard—passed away to the 
Happy Land where all desires are satisfied. 
The parasol was then given to another little 
girl, aud when she died to another, uutil it was 
owned by seven iu that ward, most of whom 
had never had the delight of holding one in 
their hands before ; so, although the gift was 
neither meat nor drink, medicine nor care, it 
was a most gracious charity. 
LILLIAN Cl REV. 
Domestic Cconomi) 
CONDUCTED BV EMILY MAPLE. 
HINTS. 
In making pickles, never use vessels of brass, 
copper or tin. 
Dried corn, to be good, must be prepared 
when it is young and tender. 
The latest method of tying a sash is in one 
long loop and two ends. 
Pepper should uot lie dusted over red beets 
before Bending to tubltr it spoils their bright 
color. 
The washing of the face frequently with hot 
water aud nightly applications of cold cream 
or vaseline, are said to be a great preventive of 
wrinkles. 
Try boiling a ham in cider and water—half 
cider. 
Ham or tongue sandwiches are much nicer 
if the meat is chopped A little made mus¬ 
tard added to it, or a spoonful of lemon juice, 
improves it. 
THE WORK THAT FARMERS’ DAUGH¬ 
TERS HAVE TO DO. 
It seems strange to me that “Charity” feels 
obliged to make milking a regular duty. I 
am a farmer's daughter, born among the green 
hills of Vermont, where I lived until 1 was 19. 
when I married a youug farmer (“Charity” 
seems to despise such), aud came to New York 
to reside. My father was n provident farmer, 
and generally kept, suitable help both in-doors 
and out, so that the feuialo portion of the 
household did uot feel called upon to go into t he 
milking-yard except during buying and har¬ 
vesting, when the men were sometimes obliged 
to work uutil durk, “getting in” the hay or 
grain. At sueh times, little brother got, the 
cows early, while the girl and myself took 
each a pail, and milked as many cows us we 
could before the men came in. Wo had quite 
a large dairy. I kept a sun bonnet, and calico 
dress skirt to slip over my afternoon dress, if 
the yard was in good condition; hut if it was 
a little muddy, L changed my dress for some¬ 
thing I was not afraid to soil. This the girl 
aud 1 din of our own free will, to relieve, 
somewhat,, the tired men, and hi return, had 
the beuoflt of some very efficient; help iu shak¬ 
ing and putting down carpets, filling beds, 
etc. They were as willing to help us ns we 
were to help them. But as for making it a 
business to do men’s work, that women were 
never made to do—I would not do it! Milking 
looks easy, but it is hard work, as every one 
knows who has had much experience. I have 
never known a single American woman who 
did the milking as a general thing, and 1 have 
lived in farming communities in two Htatos. 
Indeed, hut very few of our neighbors’daugh¬ 
ters and wives know how to milk. 
Perhaps this is a richer community, with 
better farms, than where “Charity” lives; but 
certain it is, that our farmers’ daughters have 
every advantage. Most of them are sent away 
to school after finishing their common school 
education. Troy Conference Academy is only 
four miles from us, and the farmers* daugh¬ 
ters for many miles around attend this most 
excellent school, whore all branches are tho¬ 
roughly taught, together with music—both 
vocal and iiotruinental—also drawing, paint¬ 
ing, etc. Our young men com pare favorably 
with those who are uot farmers, haviug nearly 
as good privileges as their sisters, and are not 
at all like the creatures "Charity” describes. 
If they were, the girls would be doomed to be 
old maids, most of them, at lenst, for they, 
like “Charity,” are too refined to be happy 
with such companions. If “Charity” is a real¬ 
ity, I pity the dear girl from the bottom of my 
heart; but I do not think her life is a fair sam¬ 
ple of what those of most farmers’ daughters 
are, and ought to lie, in this nineteenth century. 
Many of our fanners take the Rural aud profit 
by its teachings. That may account for their 
enlightenment. MBS. J. F. R. 
■ ♦ - 
THE PET CANARY. 
Some weeks ago there appeared in the 
Rural New-Yorker two short articles iu 
regard to the canary bird. I was in hopes 
that others would follow, us anything that 
can be said about the little songster is inter¬ 
esting to me. I have raised them for sale for 
the past four or live years. I aim to raise 
about fiO each year, and by raising them from 
young birds (not over throe years old) they 
are nearly all singers. Our birds are not con¬ 
fined to cugosatull; but have perfect free¬ 
dom in an upper room. In breeding time I 
tack hulf a-done n small boxes up on the wall, 
then strew bits of cotton batting, shreds of 
soft cloth, and lino twigs, and grass about the 
floor. The birds know what that means, uud 
frequently will come and gather them up as 
they fall from tny band. They can, and some¬ 
times do, build a nest as pretty as a wild bird 
in its woodland home. Again, they will be 
very thriftless, depositing their eggs in an 
unfinished nest, aud at other times they will 
pile up the coltou after the nest is finished 
until there is hardly room for the eggs to lodge 
in. W hen they do that I remove all of their 
building material for a few days. They will 
lay from two to six eggs for a setting, bat 
four is the usual number, and they bring oir 
four broods during the Summer. For some 
reason there is almost always in each nest one 
egg that does not hatch (with us, at least), but 
you can count upon a good pair raising 
one dozen birds through the season. We 
never, under any circumstances, let them 
use the same nest or box twice, but tear all 
down, and put up others fresh aud clean. 
We have a birch tree in the center of their 
room, and the young birds often fly to it the 
day they leave the parent nest. I love to go 
up in the evening and look them over by 
lamp-light. Sometimes ten or a dozen are 
perched on one limb looking like a string of 
puli’ balls One or two are often found cud¬ 
dled up in Hie comer of the window screen. 
They are always lifted gently to the tree for 
fear a sudden shower should come up iu the 
night, and they should be drowned. We have 
screens at all the upper windows, and a screen 
door for their room In Bummer, and during 
Cold weather their room is warmed—by a regis¬ 
ter—from our sitting room stove. Happy little 
birds! Lotus hear from some one—anyone— 
who knows about, canaries and t.liyn I may tell 
you about our John and his smartness; about 
Jenny and Brownie with their jealousies; and 
Anna, who stole a nestful of younglings from 
their own mother. M. l. collins. 
conversational misdemeanors. 
It is said to be more of an accomplishment 
to be a good listener than a talker, but when 
one is obliged to listen to a person who adopts 
such tricks of speech as, “don’t you know? ’> 
"isn’t it, eh?' 1 etc., tacked to the end of every 
sentence, why, then we prefer to do the talk 
iug whilo he studies the accomplishment of 
listening, until lie overcomes his insane desire 
of representing an interrogation point. 
WHAT WE DRINK. 
In Brooklyn the Health Inspectors found 
that several coffee dealers were in the habit 
of doctoring cheap brands so as to make them 
sell for pure Java. This was accomplished 
by polishing the berries in rotating cylinders, 
with the addition of chromate of lead, burnt 
umber, yellow ochre, Venetian-red. charcoal, 
soapstone, Prussian blue atul other stuffs. 
Happy the farmer who is content witii his 
coffee of rye. 
DOMESTIC RECIPES. 
CABBAGE SALAI). 
Cut part of a solid head of cabbage into 
thin shreds, and throw lightly into a salad 
bowl or vegetable dish. Cut a few thin slices 
of bacon into small dice, and fry until they 
begin to brown; then pour in some vinegar, 
the suiue quantity of water, add u lump of 
butter, pepper uud salt, pour all warm over 
the cabbage. This is a very nice supper dish 
with warmed-up potatoes. 
rOTATO SALAD. 
This is made by thinly slicing cold boiled 
potatoes into a vegetable dish, and pouring 
over the same dressing of bacon, vinegar, etc., 
as prepared for cabbage salad. mrs. a. 
CITRON PRK8ERVE8. 
After peeling, weigh, cut into pieces an Inch 
in length. Boil in water to which you have 
added a little salt, until tender. Allow not 
quite an equal weight of sugar with the 
fruit. Make a sirup of the sugar aud some of 
the water in which the citron was boiled, add 
the drained pieces aud a few slices of lemon, 
free from seeds. Cook slowly half au hour. 
STEWED PEAKS. 
Flavorless pears cun be utilized for sauce by 
stewing them with either sugar or molasses 
aud a leniou. Pare, quarter, aud core, or 
cook whole. Simmer gently until done. 
MRS. e. v. p. 
FRUIT CAKE. 
Ah a family we eat very little cake, but 
until tills Summer 1 have been in the habit of 
baking some kind of nice cake every week, 
simply because 1 did not care to be without 
cake in the house. This Spring I thought to 
do away with that part of my work.so ! baked 
several loaves of fruit-cake, wrapped them 
up iu thin paper, and put away in a tight cake 
box. This cake, baked lust May, has answered 
well for company cake the entire Summer, 
and has saved me much time, work and vexa¬ 
tion of spirit. COUNTRY COOK. 
WASHING FANCY STOCKINGS. 
Make a very weak suds of cold water, and 
gently wash the stockings in it. A little salt 
will help to “set” the colors. Rinse iu cold 
water, aud dry wrong side out, in the shade. 
MOTHER. 
FRIED TOMATOES. 
Take green tomatoes, slice thin, roll in 
Hour, season with salt and pepper, and fry 
brown in hot butter. lillie may. 
llorwford’M Acid Phowpliate 
In l.tv>-rnii<l HGluey Yroubleu. 
I)r. O, G. CtLLKY, Boston, says: “I have 
used it with the most remarkable success in 
dyspepsia and derangement of the liver aud 
kidneys.”— Atlv. 
Professor llorsioriPs linking' Powder 
is economical, localise it is the strongest and 
healthiest powder made. Try it.— Adv. 
