4G4 
AUG 4 
little blue eyes which opened to cheer our 
hearts, would—before we had spent a year in 
our new home—close forever. Death is hard 
to bear when among loved friends, but, it is 
doubly so w hen it comes to us far out on the 
bleak prairie. It came hi me during a storm 
so severe that no oue could come to us, and I 
was obliged to see the one dear lamb loaned by 
the good Shepherd, carried from mo in a trunk 
and taken to the village, where a rude eotflu 
was made; meanwhile, our darling lying in 
the country tavern, and 1 at home so sad, with 
my amis so empty, and heart so heavy. Good 
men dig the grave iu a lonely slough, called a 
a park, and the little one is buried; no prayer 
is heard, no song sung, save by the angel band 
who welcome one more to their ranks. Ihis 
was a grief wo had not looked for, but even 
now we see a rift in the cloud, for our darling 
is waiting for us iu the beyond. 
Shall 1 ever forget when I was told that I 
might own a cow, all as my very own { Was 
one ever so kindly cared for, as onr Daisy ? 
How proud I was when 1 skimmed my first 
cream, aud uo butter was ever so sweet as that 
first churning. We are still in debt, and tbe 
mortgages urges us ou to do better. We feel 
that we cannot have greater troubles than 
those we have passed through, but as long as 
we have each other, work is pleasure, and it 
would be wrong to sit idle or grieve. I Lave 
my garden, and I can keep my table supplied 
from that in summer, and in winter we can 
live very cheaply, as we have no extra help to 
keep, and also are saved from hearing them 
find fault. I asked an old settler once, if all 
hired men swore and found so much fault; he 
said, “ he thought they did,” so I try to think 
ours are not worse than other’s. Soon our day 
of rest will eouie, for grey hairs and wrinkles 
are creeping along, and we will in His good 
time enter our final borne. I am confident from 
my own experience that one with a stout heart 
and pluck, can be a successful farmer; no 
slothful person need try. rather stay about 
street cornel’s and hold down dry-goods boxes. 
Do a little, and do it well, is a good motto. 
Attend to all minor matters; don’t neglect 
broken harness; watch bolts, and keep enough 
on hand so that you don’t have to lose half a 
day to go to town aud get one Cover all ma¬ 
chinery: protect aud care well forstock. Have 
remedies on band in case of emergencies, for 
in new countries supplies ar© very limited. 
Have plenty of poultry, they will feed yon, and 
their feathers make comforters for your beds; 
we can’t buy cotton and wool in a new country ■ 
Sometimes we do not taste beef for months, so 
wild aud tame chickens are much better we 
think than pork. We work hard, but this is 
good for us, aud we see the rainbow of promise 
ahead. W e have not, such a superabundance 
to eat that we are obliged to resort to anti-fat 
medicines to reduce flesh, but we have enough. 
One way for the really practical fanner to 
economize is, to take at lcastonegood agricul¬ 
tural paper; he will save ten times the price of 
it in one year, in the valuable knowledge 
gained. There he will learn of the best and 
newest inventions aud thus lighten Ids labor^ 
and save the expense oh me man perhaps. “Oh! 
a farmer’s life, is the life for me,” the song 
says, aud my heart echoes each word of it. It 
has its trials, aud its pleasures, too. One of 
the pleasures is, to see our thrifty acres, barn, 
bouse and out-buildings; trees, some raised 
from seed, but all planted by our own hands, 
and what w as once new prairie, wild, andvast i 
is now our home, aud the deafest spot on earth 
to us. Whatever calling you follow, be au 
honor to it, and so making it honorable. Do 
not crowd professions to overflowing, but 
come out on the great prairies, and labor. 
Farming is profitable, healthy, honorable and 
surely the noblest c ailing on earth. 
for lUomm 
CONDUCTED BY MISS HAY CLARK. 
CONCERNING! THE HARSHNESS OF 
FARM LIFE. 
MARY WAGER-FISHER. 
By the provisions of the wdll of the late 
Stephen Girard, the Girard College boys be¬ 
tween the ages of 14 and 18 years, are to bo 
indentured to some suitable occupations, as 
those of agriculture, navigation, arts, me- 
ohanical trades and manufactures. As there 
are 1,1530 boys in the college, there is quite a 
large class every year to be indentured, aud ow¬ 
ing to trades-unions, the application for inden¬ 
tured apprentices becomes less year by year, so 
that the question w hat to do w itli the boys has 
become a perplexing one. Of course, if no occu¬ 
pation is found for them at eighteen, they 
are turned adrift ou their own resources, iu 
regard to agriculture for the boys, the Secre¬ 
tary of the Boaid of City liutts, which in* 
fciudes the management of the vast Girard 
estate, said: “The life of a farmer possesses 
many attractions for a great number, but 
after toiling several months on a farm they 
become disgusted with the occupation. This 
change of feeling is due in a great measure to 
the harsh treatment received. It is very sel¬ 
dom that a boy stays his full time on a farm.” 
To what extent the Secretary’s charge is 
true, farmers themselves can upon reflection 
best judge. Is there a harshness and a hard, 
ness iu farm life over and above other avoca¬ 
tions? Do farmers manifest less tenderness, 
sympathy and thoughtfulness, and exercise 
less gentleness aud consideration toward per¬ 
sons iu their employ, than do mechanics or 
artisans toward theirs ? Do the boys and 
girls “under age,” wheu not sons and 
daughters, generally have a happy and pleas¬ 
ant time on a farm, when there as workers ? 
Are there occasional breaks in the drive and 
hard work when the dullness of Jack and 
Nancy is relieved by a play-day ? is the long, 
hot day of toil and sweat, made sweet and 
comfortable at ins close, by a fuLl bath and 
fresl^ clothing, for an hour’s rest in the even¬ 
ing in pleasant talk or reading ? Is there a 
successful effort, raa ie to concentrate the in - 
terest and affections even of the farm hands 
upon the work of the farm i It seems to me 
that the great and predominating cause of the 
dislike of boys and young meu to farm life, 
lies iu the failure of their guardians to lead 
them to see its attractions. And iu w’ell 
ordered farming the attractions are great and 
various, and there is an interest which is un¬ 
flagging. 1 never saw a healthy, active boy 
yet, who was not captivated with life on the 
and germinating seeds to be drawn and 
painted by a pair of small, brown, sturdy 
hands, might be an intolerable nuisance to 
mauj 7 a busy mother. But iu suehwiae a 
child’s mind grows in harmony with nature, 
aud in such unison and loye with nature as 
never to be dwarfed aud warped by over-rid¬ 
ing circumstances. It is impossible for a mind 
that is kept open to all these wonderful in¬ 
fluences of nature, to be small and mean, surly 
aud ungenerous. 
PIN CUSHION. 
A pin cushion is au acceptable gift at. any 
time, because they will wear out as most things 
do, and also the style will change. We think 
such as our cut represents is oue of the hand¬ 
somest w'e have seen. It hardly needs describ¬ 
ing, but we might suggest some colei’s which 
will blend, also contrasting colors. If 
five are used, old gold, peacock blue, garnet 
aud olive with the center of pink or straw 
color are pretty; two shades of lilac, with pur¬ 
ple for the center, or vice-versa\ old gold for 
two corners with crimson for the opposite, 
aud a light saee for the center. Box pleated 
ribbon or chenille cord finishes the edge above 
either a ruffle of satin or lace or a fringe if 
preferred. This design cau be carried into 
sofa pillows or ottoman’s. x. 
- 
A WORD HERE AND THERE. 
“ A bag-pudding the queen did make, 
And stuffed it well with plums,” 
but I used cherries, aud think them the very 
Fig. 
farm—the growing vegetables, fruits aud 
grains, the insects, the frogs in tbe pond, the 
horses, cows aud sheep, the poultry, the trees 
to climb, the work of the bay field, and it is 
but a natural sequence that with the develop¬ 
ment of his mind and strength, there should 
be developed within him a genuine love for 
the cultivation and care of these wonderful 
products of nature. But if his life is such that 
he sees but the toilsome side of life, bis 
thoughts wander away to other scenes and 
occupations, and ho but awaits the day when 
hi< can fly to them to be disillusioned, but still 
with no pleasant memories of the farm to call 
him back to it. 
There is nothing beyond the real love of 
work so stimulating and lightsome to toil as 
merriment to begin the day’s w'ork with, aud 
prospective recreation at the end of a seasou 
of toil. Where the labor is so irksome and in¬ 
cessant that one has neither the time nor the 
disposition to indulge iu a little innocent 
gayety, one may be sure be is going wrong. 
If one has not the time to realize that the air 
is sweet aud fresh, that there is a new bird 
singing in the trees, to put a new moth under 
a glass to observe its transition, to count the 
toes of the cat., to analyze the new’ flower or 
weed found iu the fence corner, to refresh tbo 
mind with a bit of study or reading, in short, 
to feel and take pride in his human, manly 
dignity and respectability; why their life is 
not worth the living, and the gift of it might 
better be tossed away as a curse. Unless oue 
can assert his superiority to his circumstances, 
he is certainly very much to be pitied. I 
don’t think the doctrine of mental indepen¬ 
dence is half enough indoctrinated into the 
mini Is of the young. The relation of mind 
aud body is certainly very close, but children 
should be trained to use the mind indepen¬ 
dently of physical conditions so far as possible, 
aud to cultivate a mental freedom and sunni- 
ness that will exist independent of circum¬ 
stances. Because the work of the hands is 
menial and grovelling (and very little work if 
rightly considered should be thought so); 
there is no reason why the mind, if fairly 
fed, should not yield great happiuess aud free' 
doni. If boys are healthy, they do not as a 
rule dislike hard work, but hard work devoid 
of interest is altogether another matter. 
When my own boy fails to find the keenest in¬ 
terest in the developments of nature about 
him, I shall look sharply iuto the reasons 
thereof. To have one’s house littered with 
bugs aud butterflies, frogs and dead squirrels 
and birds, with bird-nests, bird-made and boy- 
made, filled with real eggs anil mud birds, 
with glasses sUtndmg at. every turn, forming 
coups for moths aud grubs, with tubles littered 
with vegetables from a boy’s garden, aud 
grasses aud plants aud branches from trees) 
418. 
nicest flavor for such a puddiug, at least we all 
ate “thereof” and had not a bit to fry next 
morning. Perhaps the cherries, had au un¬ 
usual excellence for me, iu coming as a gift 
from a valued friend, aud because they were 
nicer than anything I had, 1 curried some 
to a dear sick sister; knowing that the giver 
would understand me, for indeed the blessed¬ 
ness of giving would be gone should we give 
that which was worthless to us. 
I have a new’ way of putting up muslin cur¬ 
tains which i want to tell you about. I saw’ it 
somewhere, in fcho RURAL, perhaps, and it was 
called English style. Instead of looping a 
curtain each side in the old fashioned way, 
cross them in the center. Well, I did while 
operating in my bedroom after cleaning. 
Sti ung both halves on a string, and crossed, 
then looped them, and oh! they looked just 
like a saw’ horse, with the bare window-casing 
grinning at me ou each side. But as I weut 
up stairs with my arms loaded with freshly 
ironed curtains, en route for the front cham¬ 
ber, I grew wiser, and tried it next time by 
placing one-half of one curtain over the 
other, aud tacking them smoothly to top of 
w indow. That was a success, they looked 
very pretty, aud all admired them. A neigh¬ 
bor came iu a few days later, and I said, “ go 
up stall’s do, and see how my window curtains 
are draped.” It was a person who has caused 
me much sorrow, but oue whom I tiy to treat 
w'ell for this very reason. 
Well, this person came down aud ap¬ 
peared delighted with them, but upon 
going Into a neighbor’s house said, “uo matter 
how I act toward Eva, she is always good en¬ 
ough to eat me up; took mo upstairs to see 
her cross curtains, and was so smiling.” What 
coinfort can there lie in having such feelings ? 
Do you think said curtains were lace or some¬ 
thing equally nice? No, simply cheese sack 
ing; but that is no sign, my “gude mon” is a 
cheese-maker is it ? And is it not nice to make 
“empt’iugs” for a woman time after time 
(glad to do it if she would only know it) with¬ 
out ever a thank you, or letting iue think her 
a woiuau’s heart (uni a warm spot for me; but 
grumbliug because the sponge was long com¬ 
ing, aud one day paying me w ith two yeast- 
cakes which had evaporated their rising abili¬ 
ties a long time ago, and so spoiling a batch of 
bread. Such little vexations sit on our shoul¬ 
ders and trace liues upon our brows, for it is 
really thu least little trials that a re the most 
wearing. A woman who is afraid of a mouse 
will often prove herself brave aud unwearying 
iu some great trouble. 
But. to offset these trials, my real friend left 
me another can of cherries and au immense 
bouquet of lilacs; and so coming from a short 
ride, I found them on the piazza in baby’s car¬ 
riage! mother hail sent me » pail of hulled 
corn, and I received a letter from another 
friend—“ I never saw' her, but I long so much 
her hand to hold.” So let these gleams that 
warm our hearts, chase away the lines on our 
brow, as fast as trials vexatious pencil can 
trace them there. That ride of mine resulted 
in the bringing home of a new hat,—this be¬ 
tween y on and I—all the while I was trying 
them on in t he store and looking worse in each 
shape, I kept thinking of what Jennie said to 
me the last thing when I left home: “Now 
Eva, dou’t get too broad a brim, for with your 
short figure you will look like an animated 
mushroom. So I purchased a steeple-crowm 
aud some crushed strawberry color for trim¬ 
ming. But there is my baby way up the road, 
her diminutive feet trotting iu frantic haste, 
lest I catch her ere the goal is reached, for she 
say's, “ I go gammers house Eva Ames. 
OUR HOME—THE BOYS’ ROOM. 
MRS. E. n. WOOD. 
Beautiful homes are now seen, where forty 
years ago stood the log-cabin of the energetic 
pioneers, who by industry and perseverance 
founded the “sweet home” of to-day. The 
old house has been removed. The logs, aud 
shakes, and puncheons have crumbled to dust 
or been made into ashes. The door, with its 
wooden hinges and latch-string, tells no more 
of hospitality. The shade trees are nearly as 
large as the forest trees. The fruit grandpa 
planted is now gathered by the childreu, who 
in many instances “ Rise up and call him 
blessed” (i. e.) if the trees were grafted. The 
sweet old-fashioned lilac and snow-ball, that 
were sent to grandma from “ the East ” aud 
watched by her so tenderly, bloom each year, 
aud happy childreu love the flowers grandma 
sees no more. The new house differs from 
the old oue iu every respect, excepting the 
kitchen, the workmanship of which is finer, 
There is no fireplace, or “ dutch oven,” or uo 
jioles overhead on which to dry pumpkins or 
apples, no peg on which to hang the perforated 
tin lantern with its tallow candle, which lias 
gone out, never to shine again; but the plan 
of the kitchen is in other respects the stcrio. 
typed editiou of tbe old house. I mention 
this room first, as it is usually the first room 
seen in the average country house. The din¬ 
ing-room, sitting-room, parlor aud sleeping, 
rooms are usually tastefully' furnished, bright 
and cosy, excepting the “boys’ room," which 
very often is the most shabbily furnished 
room in the house. “ The boys are so rough,’> 
is the excuse. Try polishing their room, and 
see if it will not take some of the roughness 
from its occupants. Ragged quilts must be on 
the tied, “the boys tear them so.” Put on 
good beddiug—make the lied look nice, aud 
they will have too much respect and good 
sense to destroy things. A carpet, a wash- 
stand atul all articles considered essential in 
other sleeping apartments, ought to be iu the 
boys’ room. Some of the fancy articles the 
girls have made, and wondered where in the 
world to put them, would brighten up this 
forlorn looking place. A piece of sand-paper 
with something bright, around the edge, fast¬ 
ened to the wall near the match-holder, with 
a burnt-match receiver fastened below it, will 
save the wall from being “all scratched up 
by the boys.” If a button comes off when 
they are dressing, a box with needles and 
thread will save running all over the house to 
find some one to sew it on, but with the ma¬ 
terial right at hand can sew it ou himself. 
Make their room look nice and you will not 
be troubled with muddy boots trackiugall the 
way to the “boys’ room.” Even the lower 
animals love a clean uest. The average boy 
is not lower than the brute 1 know. 
Usually the person intent ou making his 
home look beautiful to the passers by, will set 
out eight or ten little evergreens in two rows, 
from the front door to the gate. In a few 
years his house is blindfolded. The cherry 
trees have sprouted iuto such a swamp around 
some country homes that it would furnish a 
job for incipient presidents with their “little 
hatchets” to clear it up. Have a nice well- 
kept lawn, with evergreens aud other trees. 
Get a large porous lime-stone rock and plant 
wild Columbines in the crevices. Plant a bed 
of Pansies, oue of Verbiuns, and one of Gerani¬ 
ums, which will make your lawn "just 
lovely ,” Try to make homo beautiful. it is 
uot “a wicked waste of time ” 
Mary Edwood. 
TWO PICTURES. 
I. 
“Father is coining!” and little round laces 
grow long, and merry voices are hushed, ami 
toys are hustled into the closet; ami uimniuu 
glances nervously at the door; ami baby is 
bribed w ith u lump of sugar to keep the peace; 
anil father’s busim ss-fuce relaxes uot a muscle; 
and the little group huddle like timid sheep iu 
H comer, and tin is despatched as suddenly at 
