AUG 25 
CiUiunj. 
TO LET. 
The plaeard'hung beside the door. 
Inscribed In wordsof jet 
That might be seen ten feet or more— 
“The basement floor to let.” 
For days and days (t swunft about. 
The winds of March were high. 
And many stopped to spell it out, 
And many passed It by. 
The house, on ancient dwelling, wore 
A coat of freshest paint- 
The owner had the parlor-floor. 
And she was not a saint. 
A woman came along the street. 
And, us the sign she spelled, 
She smiled upon the babe, so sweet, 
Within her arms she held. 
Then rang the bell. Inquired the rent, 
When one who held the door 
Replied, with looks of coldness bent 
Upon the babe she bore: 
“How many children do you own?” 
The woman answered, “Two:” 
“That’s two too many.” said the crone 
“We cannot let to you!” 
The door was closed against appeal. 
The woman, turned and smiled 
Through tears she sought not to conceal. 
Upon her sleeping child. 
“My little one! my precious one!” 
She murmured with a kiss; 
“Were I alone, I still would shun 
So cold a house as this! 
“As dark and doleful as a tomb. 
For all ll looks so fair 
Outside: since there’s not any room 
For little children there!” 
Beside the dark and stately door 
The sign Is swinging yet. 
And I know why the basement-floor, 
So long remains To Let. j. c. 
NO REST FOR THE WEARY. 
“ Now at least I’ll have cue hour to myself, 
aud a great pleasure it'll be too, to know that 
the house is still for once, and 1 can be left 
alono with my own musings, ami not be afraid 
every moment that some one will come in sud¬ 
denly upou me driving away all my pleasant 
thoughts. No, thank fortune I'm aloue, for 
the children are at school and Jim has gone 
to the village, 
I don’t intend to work very hard either, 
for if a woman can’t have one hour out of 
twelve to rest, I think its a pity.” 
So saving, Mrs. Smith sat down with a woe- 
be-gone expression on her face, such as is only 
seen in the countenances of those poor weary 
souls who always look on the dark side of life, 
making themselves and all around them un¬ 
happy. 
“ Lot mo sec, why, I believe I haven’t read 
last week's paper j et, and no wonder when I 
have to perforin the duties of matron, seam¬ 
stress, chamberulaid, cook, waiter, washer¬ 
woman, dairy-maid and what not, busy from 
moruiug till night scarcely taking time to 
breathe for fear somet hing will be left undone. 
For my part 1 can’t see w hy 1 have to work 
so hard and have no time to rest, excepting 
when I'm asleep, while on the contrary, the 
men seem to take it so easy. They come in 
at noon, eat their dinners and have an hours 
nooning, as they cull it, while the teams are 
feeding. 
All this time 1 have to keep at work, and by 
the time t he dishes are washed and u hundred 
and one other things attended to it is supper 
time, thou maid of all work must fly around 
aud have the supper ready precisely on time, 
or there will be growling from the other side 
of the house. 
As soon us the men have eaten their suppers 
and finished the chores at the barn—which, by 
the way don’t take more than thirty minutes, 
for many hands make light work—they come 
in, sitdowu, talk, smoke, chew, read the daily 
papers, lounge around and enjoy themselves in 
general. 
While they are thus enjoying themselves, I 
poor soul, with those two tired hands have to 
wash dishes again aud prepare breakfast, aud 
then when I’m almost tired to death, if 1 hap¬ 
pen to sit down to rest for two or three sec¬ 
onds, Jim is sure to have some odd job or 
THE BUBAL HEW-YORKER. 
other to set me at. To keep me out of mischief? 
he says. 
I think if the truth was ever written it was 
in those lines: 
4 Man works from sun to su \ 
Womau’s work is never done. ’ 
If Jim would only let me have a girl to help 
me, but no, every time I mention it his always 
4 so poor, can’t afford it.’ But he’s got to af¬ 
ford to bury mo some time, aud that soon, if 
I have to keep on working in this way. 
Then I wonder where my hard earnings will 
go to? I suppose to support wife number two, 
to dress her in style so she can entertain visi¬ 
tors and make calls while Bridget does the 
work in the kitchen. That's the way it. gener¬ 
ally goes. Jim wouldn't got another wife to 
do as I have done, one who would be so meek 
aud gentle. No, sir; I tell you what, he’d have 
to stand around, it would be his turn to be 
lamb like. 
But I wouldn't care so much if he didn't 
have so much help himself, two hired men all 
the time, aud if he happens to get in a hurry 
he goes aud hires more, never stopping to 
think auytbiug about the affording part 
Now I don’t believe in this way of doing 
business. 1 like to see things balance. There’s 
Mrs. Simpkins, .she seems to have plenty of 
time, takes two or throe magazines, and news¬ 
papers by the dozen, aud after doing her work 
and reailing all these has time to make her 
weekly round of calls, while 1 seldom get into 
a neighbor’s house from one year’s end to the 
other. I cau't see how it is, but some 
people do have a way of getting through 
with their work that I don’t understand. I’ll 
warrant she don’t, cook much though. Now 
I think of it the men folks over there do 
look kind of haggard and starved like My! 
Jim would be as cross as a bear, if I didn’t 
have soup, two or three kinds of vegetables, 
puddings, pies aud everything else on the table 
for dinner. But I suppose that is partly my 
fault, for they say before Icarne here Jim had 
to put up with auythiug he could get and not 
much of that. 
I remember when I was at home sister Sue 
used to say I’d spoil auy man if 1 had my way 
about the cooking, and I don't know but she 
prophesied aright that time. But I'll remem¬ 
ber uoxt. time when 1 get mar— 
My! supposing some person was listening. 
Of course Jim is goiug to live. Door me, 
what a commotion my thoughts are in. 1 won¬ 
der why it is that J cant, think without speak¬ 
ing my thoughts. Jim says I’m always talk- 
iug to myself when i’m alone, but I can't help 
it, it’s natural. 
I declare, its almost time for the children to 
come home aud l haven’t read any yet. I 
must, for I've heard it said, w e must read a 
little every day if but tifteeu minutes, it will 
make itself felt at the end of every year. 
Wonderful invention—phonograph, a talk¬ 
ing maehiue! What, a labor-saving invention. 
Just the thing l want, for its so hard for me 
to talk. It tires me almost to death. If I only 
had oue of these? machines I could set one of 
children to turning the crank aud it would do 
the talking instead of mo. What a great re¬ 
lief it would be! Then Jim would enjoy it so 
much I know, for he likes to listen to anyone 
talking, aud it being such an effort for me to 
talk, if it wasn’t for the children poor fellow, 
he'd get lonesome. 
There, now, those children are coming and 
| I’ve got to get supper again. Oh. dear! I did 
think I’d get a little time to rest to-day, but 
no, fate’s against me. No rest for the weary! 
E. L. M. 
POPULAR SONGS. 
There is nothing about which mankind iu 
general and America npeople in particular 
are so much mistaken as the authorship of our 
popular songs, “Auld Lang Syne” is gener¬ 
ally supposed to Vie the composition of Burns 
but. in fact he wrote only the second aud third 
verses of the luillad as commonly sung, re¬ 
touching the others from older and loss famil¬ 
iar song. "Woodman. Spare that Tree !” was 
the result of an incident that happened to 
George P. Morris. A friend’s mother had 
owned a little place iu the country which she 
was obliged from poverty to sell. On the 
property grew a largo oak which had been 
planted bv his grandfather. The purchaser 
of the house and land proposed to cut down 
the tree, and Morris's friend paid him ten 
pounds for a bond that, the oak should be 
spared. Morris heard the story, saw the tree 
and wrote the song. "Oft in the Stilly Night” 
was produced by Moore after his family had 
undergone apparently every possible misfor¬ 
tune. One of his children died young, an¬ 
other went astray, aud a third was acciden¬ 
tally killed. "The Light of Other Days" was 
written to be introduced into Balfe's opera, 
"The Maid of Artois.” The opera is forgot¬ 
ten, but the song still lives, and is popular as 
ever. Payne wrote "Homo, Sweet Home” to 
help till up au opera he was preparing, and at 
first it had four stanzas. The author never 
received anything for it, but though the opera 
was a failure when played in Covent Garden 
Theatre, the song took, and over one hundred 
thousand copies were sold the first year. In 
two years the publishers cleared over two 
thousandpoimds by the publication; aud the 
variations, transcriptions and imitations have 
been innumerable. The melody is believed to 
be a Si ilian air. and Donizetti has a variation 
of it in his opera, ‘‘Anna Bolena.” Once 
while laboring under great mental depression, 
Payue wrote, “How often have I been in the 
heart <»f Paris, Berlin. London, or some other 
city, and have heard persons singing or hand- 
organs playing “Home, Sweet Home,” with¬ 
out having a shilling to buy myself the next 
meal, or a place to lay my head. The world 
has literally sung my song till every heart, is 
familiar with its melody; yet I have been a 
wanderer from my boyhood, and in my old 
age have to submit to humiliation for my 
bread ” 
Foster’s “Old Folks at Home’’ was the best 
song he ever wrote. Over four hundred 
thousand copies were sold by the firm 
that first published it, and the author is 
said to have received three thousand pounds 
for his share in the sale. Christy, the 
noted minstrel, paid eighty pounds for the 
privilege of having his name printed on 
one edition of “Old Folks at Home" as 
the author nnd composer. The song is 
thus often erroneously attributed to him. 
“A Life on the Ocean Wave,” by Epes Sar¬ 
gent, was pronounced a failure by his friends. 
The copyright, of the song became very valu¬ 
able, though Sargent, never got anything for 
it himself. “What are the Wild Waves Say¬ 
ing?” was suggested to Doctor Carpenter by a 
scene from Dickens' novel, "Dombey and 
Sou,” and the music was by Glover. “Love’s 
Young Dream” was one of Moore's but the 
tune to which it is commonly sung is from an 
Irish ballad called the “Old Woman." Moore 
sang liis own songs so well that both the audi¬ 
tors and himself were often moved to teal's. 
Once w hen he was singing this song a lady 
who heard him implored him to stop. 
“For heaven’s sake stop; this is not good 
for my soul.” 
“Auld Robin Gray.” was the work of Lady 
Anna Lindsay, who tells a curious story of the 
circumstances of its composition:— 
“I called to iny little sister, the only per¬ 
sons near, aud said, I have been writing a 
ballad, my dear. I am oppressing my heroine 
with many misfortunes. I have already sent 
her Jamie to the sea, and broken her father's 
arm, aud made her mother fall sick, and 
given her Auld Robin Gray for a lover, but I 
wish to load her with a fifth sorrow within 
the tour lines, poor thing. Help me to one. 
‘Steal the cow,’ said little Elizabeth. The cow 
was immediately lifted by me. and the song 
completed." 
“Kathleen Mnvourneen" was sold by 
Crouch, its American author, for five pounds, 
aud brought the publishers as many thousands. 
Crouch was hopelessly improvident, aud in 
his latter days became a tramp. When Made¬ 
moiselle Titiens was in the States a number of 
years ago she sang ‘‘Kathleen Mavourneen" in 
New York, when a dirty tramp introduced 
himself as Crouch, was recognized, aud 
thanked,her for singing the song so well. 
“Bonpy Doou” was the only English song that 
the Emperor Napoleon liked. "I'll Hang my 
Harp on a Willow Tree” is said to have been 
written by a young English nobleman iu love 
with Princess (now Queen) Victoria. “Annie 
Laurie” is 200 years old, aud was the produc¬ 
tion of a man named Douglass to celebrate the 
praise of a girl named Laurie. The lady after¬ 
wards deserted the man who made her famous, 
and married a man named Ferguson. 
ONE WOMAN’S IDEA OF MAN. 
What a manly thing a man is! (Here I may 
express myself quite freely since men “never 
read Twaddle”.) How august he seems stand¬ 
ing upon the giddy bight of his masculine 
superiority! Did you ever see one come dow n 
from this lofty dome of self aggrandizement? 
I have. There is a far away gaze into the 
mysteries of infinitude, a sudden recalling of 
the mind to unworthy things, and he gives 
utterance to the contempt swelling within his 
manly breast, iu language like this—"l never 
read Twaddle, or stuff which women write 
about cooking and such nonsense," aud im¬ 
mediately his god like mind resumes its inves¬ 
tigations among the iuscrutables, (to women.) 
Can anything so stimulate a woman to high 
and hol y endeavor, as a remark like this? How 
she has mistaken the deeds of this great being. 
He does not like “ Twaddle," and she has been 
for veal's catering to a false notion. It strikes 
her Like a thunderbolt of Jupiter, while he 
plays his roll in the heaveus. What must the 
woman do? She was made as a “help-meet” to 
544 
this supreme being, and as such should stand 
at his side and be interested in his interests. 
How is this level to be achieved and sustained? 
Must she coax him down or try to mount up i 
Both. With a dish of “Twaddle” in one hand 
for whatever men say, I’ve seen them gulp 
down quantities of “Twaddle” in the shape of 
a well cooked dinner (and I believe they like 
it) and a volume of evolution in the other, she 
must try to evolve herself into an angel or 
some winged seraph capable of flight into the 
unexplored fields of thought. However, while 
this evolution is going on she must take care 
of the “Twaddle,” lest (having attained the 
hight) she be left holding it alone, while her 
husband (having lost his balance grasping for 
the “Twaddle”) makes a rapid descent, brains 
foremost, to the kitchen for hot “Twaddles,” at 
the same time calling her back to her “proper 
sphere.” 
Come to the rescue clubites! Should women 
devote their poor talents to the tickling of the 
palates of their lords, thus making the table 
the sole level upon which both can meet and 
greet? 
In fact, do we not give ourselves more 
anxiety about pleasing men than we get 
thanks for? Are they not right in feeling con¬ 
tempt for the pen. wholly gi ven up to discussing 
the gratifications of the outer man ? Should 
we not live more for the soul and mind than 
for the body? Yet they “despise sermonizing.” 
Then where is the field for woman? Ah! truly 
the field is not her sphere; it narrows down 
to a “pateh.” Yes, patch, patch and darn, 
darn. Mrs. M. L. Sayers. 
Fig. 527. 
UNTIDINESS. 
Mrs. M. C. 
Untidiness is the cause of a multitude of an¬ 
noyances and anything that annoys is a drag 
to the feet, a stay to the hands, and a de¬ 
stroyer of good uature. How can a woman 
be cheerful and make housework a pleasure, 
knowing that she would be ashamed of her ap¬ 
pearance it any one should call? It is a query 
in the minds of many why our American 
girls have an aversion to house-work, and 
prefer to live " from hand to mouth” behind 
the counter aud in the work-shop. While the 
fact may be accounted for in more than one 
way-, to my mind. One great reason is the 
general untidiness of women doing their 
morning’s work. The girl behind the coun¬ 
ter, although her garments may be of the 
cheapest quality, lias a neat and tasty appear¬ 
ance, which the kitchen girl knows is lackiug 
in her morning dress. The fact that gar¬ 
ments are easily soiled while doing some por¬ 
tions of house-work, is no reason why a 
woman should wear a sever ety plain dress, a 
large apron aud old shoes, and twist her hair 
into a haul knot. It all teuds to create a dis- • 
like for house-work in general. 
A girl with a particle of refinement, will 
have a desire to get awav from that which 
with a little forethought and deftness, might 
be made pleasant. The satisfaction it will 
give a woman to know that her hair is in per¬ 
fect onier. will more than repay her for ris¬ 
ing a little earlier each morning aud doing it 
up good for the day. It is not necessary to 
wear already worn-out shoes, while neat aud 
durable working shoes are comparatively in- 
exueusivo. A certain degrees of respect is 
due to a woman who always has well dressed 
hair and feet. But there is no respect like 
self respect wherewith to lighten the labori¬ 
ousness of house-work. There is no economy 
in having only a few working dresses, aud no 
reason why they should all lx- made plainly 
for flounces are dressy and easily made; and 
a calico dress will Last a long time. Aside 
from a calico basque, one made of flannel is 
durable and comfortable in Winter, A silk 
handkerchief is a pretty addit ion to a morn¬ 
ing dress and much better thau a collar; they 
also wash well aud cost but little. The woman 
that dresses well for the inoraiug, will al¬ 
ways be well dressed. If women would dress 
so as to never be ashamed of themselves under 
any circumstances, and encourage their 
daughters to be neat and tasty while doing 
their work, house-work would lie robbed of 
the greater part of its disagreeableness. 
