542 
AflG 25 
for XUomnt 
CONDUCTED BY MISS HAY CLARK 
A YOUNG WIFE’S GRIEVANCES. 
MRS. T. L. CRIMES. 
I think the pleasantest paragraph I have 
seen in any paper in a long time is the one in 
the Rural New-Yorker, in which the lady 
readers, especially those in rural homes “far 
from the maddening crowd” are cordially invit¬ 
ed to “talk,” Sol avail myself of the per¬ 
mission, selecting the above subject as one 
which has given me anxious concern since my 
isolation in the country, and I want some sym¬ 
pathizing soul to help me with hint or sugges 
Xion. 
Iu the first, place though (for I never did 
write an article before), it strikes me that I 
must have a remarkable talent for long sen¬ 
tences. I remind myself of Evarts style and 
that, of several other great men whom the 
world applauds, and I begiu to foci elated. 
To resume though, here is the question which 
lias vexed my soul. What, is a city-bred youug 
wife to do by way of recreation when she is 
through with her work—that is. supposing she 
ever gets through—and why is it that a girl 
accustomed to the gaiety and fascination of 
cultured society, devoted to books and to whom 
music is a necessity, always elects to man y 
“all for love,” and the world well lost, she 
retires to the solitude of country or some fare 
away little village there to begin a new lif- 
indeed, and if it is the loneliness of a river 
plantation, then what a boon it is, for a clever 
genial newspaper to ask her to talk. 
My lament is, that, there are so few recrea" 
tions provided for or possible to most women 
in country homes, especially out-of-door 
amusement and exercise. 80 seldom it is, 
that we have the freedom to go off for a long 
stroll through wood and field, or live one hour 
in the glad sunshine. First, there is the little 
home to be kept in order, the dear little baby 
to be cared for and “ minded ” all day long, 
the husbands dinner, and the dairy, and the 
sewing, and the hundred little duties that are 
so “ wearing ” to the strength and patience. 
What wonder that we have no time for the 
music and for the flowers that were once so 
dear. The piano stands silent, and the Ber¬ 
muda sod is unbroken, and worse than all. we 
can only look out, on the sunshine. Rut what 
man could stand such a life for a week f You 
are tired euough my dear hard working young 
fanner when you come in at night, and you 
fancy that Daisy has had an easy time iu com¬ 
parison, but oh! bow cross you would be if 
some accident should force you to stay indoors 
for one week, and if you only had to mind the 
baby—the dear little golden-haired mischief— 
and accomplish all beside that Daisy does, 
could you or could any man living keep your 
senses 1 So my lament rises into a grievance. 
Can it not be remedied ! Can we not like 
“Bill Arp,” do something iu this emergency? 
Congress bad better make an appropriation 
for the tired “Daisies” to procure us a little 
fi^sti air aud amusement, and preserve our 
valuable li ves to our country instead of spend- 
ing so much to furnish recreation and pleasant 
travel for the men. 
Having had my say, like “Mrs. Poyser,” I 
feel better for it, and I do hope it may induce 
these dear superior husbands to think a little 
seriously, about us when they get through 
reading “Notes from Stockmen,” aud “seed 
reports,” and such matters of more vital im¬ 
portance. We know they can and will do 
wonders if they once got their minds set upon it. 
Have any of in}' rural friends tried making 
nigs for a recreation during the long Winter 
evenings? I have tried so many different ways 
of late without being able to take any genuine 
satisfaction in uiy work, that it has been some¬ 
thing pathetic to the family to see me take out 
my blight scraps, and with a persistence wor¬ 
thy of a greater cause, betake myself to my 
task which progressed a la Penelope. But at 
last I. have found out the easiest, prettiest, 
and most inexpensive way to make it. 
It. is simply to cut your worsted: scraps in 
strips half an inch wide, a great deal of black 
aud a good deal of bright color interspersed 
just as you please, and knit it in strips the 
width of your two handy, on large wood or 
ivory needles. (1 like the wood the best). I 
finished four or five strips for a small mg and 
it was so pretty that I was begged out of it* 
for a saddle blanket by one of the masculines 
of our household. Line it with a coffee sack 
and bind it, and the saddle blanket will be an 
acceptable Christmas or birthday gift to some 
of the farmer boys who ride a great deal. 
Now I hope that my plaiut may at least be 
the means of discovering some recreation of 
which 1 now have no experience. I have at 
leust had the. pleasure of “thinking aloud” as 
it were, as I sit alone this cold windy eve; aud 
I trust our good natured Editor, may have a 
happy year, aud many a like inspiration in 
the future for the good of her fair friends. 
MY SITTING ROOM. 
ESTHER M. SHONTZ. 
"Wealth is not necessary in order to have a 
beautiful home. A house may ho low and 
small, the owners have but little to spare for 
adornment, and yet a natural taste aud a love 
for the beautiful will soon make of their little 
nest a bovver of beauty. A few sheltering 
trees that will grow just as readily for the 
poor man as for the rich; a vino here and a 
shrub there; a bed of flowers in this nook and 
a few pots of flowers in that, and before you 
know it you have a lovely borne with but little 
outlay. Then for Winter, what a bright 
cheery look a few well cared for plants and 
flowers will give to a neat tidy sitting room! 
And here again, you can have the beauty 
with but little expense. An ornameut which 
to us at least is beautiful, cost the half of a 
salt barrel, a few shingle nails aud a short, 
time spent in going to the woods for a grape¬ 
vine and some moss to trim our garden. The 
moss was placed on the outside aud the grape 
vine looped up and down over it to keep it in 
place and the shingle nails were used to keep 
the vine iu place. It stands on a stool a foot aud 
a half high, the stool and also the sides of the 
garden being completely covered by the glossy 
leaves of the Maderia vine. As we did not 
want the vine interfering with our garden we 
made holes in the sides half way down aud 
put the vine roots in so that they would grow 
out. around t he sides, Iu the centre we have a 
lovely Calla, small gerauiums’aroaud the outer 
edge, and before the Winter is over the per¬ 
fumes of the Hyacinth will All the room. 
Roses, Rose Geraniums, Fuchsia, the Helio¬ 
trope, with all its indescribable fragrance, pay 
us well for all the cost and care. We have 
been asked how we could find time to care for 
our plants and dear little birdie, who cheers 
ns with his joyous songs these short days, but 
we think we can do more work, and do it bet¬ 
ter, for the rest we have in caring for them, 
in farm life there are many homely duties to 
perform; why not mix in all the beauty we 
can { Costly pictures and flue furniture may 
lie beyond our reach; but who ever saw a pic¬ 
ture that could equal iu beauty a nice bloom¬ 
ing Fuchsia ? The hand of the skilful artist 
may imitate nature, but his roses will have no 
perfume, his violets no fragrance, his birds no 
song. From our Heavenly leather’s gallery 
we may gather in as much of loveliness as we 
wish, and if our homes are bleak and barren it 
must be largely our own fault. 
HANDKERCHIEF SATCHEL. 
Our lady readers will no doubt recollect the 
cut of a fancy satchel or pocket given a month 
or so ago. While that was a very simple, 
pretty and useful article ol dress, we think the 
design given this week is well worth the extra 
trouble required to make one like it, Watered 
silk, satin or velvet, in the color harmoni <ing 
with the dress, or black, are the materials used. 
Cord intermixed with gold thread, tassels to 
match, aud full bows of satin ribbon, com¬ 
pletes this exceedingly tasty and fashionable 
handkerchief bag. c. 
MRS. LEE’S JOURNAL. 
M ARGUE aiTK. 
Mother came into the sewing room yester 
day where I was sitting, working at a jug 
which is nearly done, and it will make the 
third of its kind. I take the pieces left from 
an old well-worn ingrain carpet, cut them in 
strips crosswise one-half finger in w idth, rav¬ 
eling out each side two-thirds of an inch in 
depth. I prepare a piece of burlap and double 
it the size I want the mg to be, and begin by 
sewing a strip of the carpet all around the 
edge. For second row, take another piece and 
after doubling the fringed ends of the first to¬ 
gether, sew through the centre of the second 
side by side with the first, and coutinue until 
the centre is filled. When finished it presents 
a surface of fringe which is pretty and dura¬ 
ble, too. 
After sitting by my side awhile chatting, 
she laid the Rural in my lap, saying: “I 
don't know r hut it is a pity to tempt you 
just now” I burst the wrapper, dropping the 
nig, but before I opened the interior of it 
Carl and Gertie were beside me, saying: 
“Please, mamma, explain the picture on the 
back,” so I w'ent through the different scenes 
of angling and answered a good many ques¬ 
tions which gratified them and even surprised 
myself at my own patience, for I am as full of 
expectancy when I open the Rural as I am in 
opening a letter front a friend. 
The children awakeued at five this morning, 
aud were dressing w hen I opened my eyes. 1 
aim to put them to bed early enough at night 
so 1 won’t need to aw r aken them in the morn¬ 
ing, for I always feel as if I was hurting them 
to break their slumbers. Fred, built the fire 
in the range and brought fresh water to get 
the breakfast, aud also the potatoes from the 
cellar, while Gertie dressed little Carl. 
1 find it is so much easier to keep the table 
all standing set with dishes from one meal to 
another. It saves me many steps at a busy 
time and rests my mind, too. After they are 
washed it is as easy to put them on the table 
again as to put them up in the cupboard, aud 
a fly-screen over the table is a protection. 
“How would you like your potatoes this 
morning, John ”! I asked. I try uever to 
fix them the same way twice together.’ He 
asked “for them to be cooked whole aud 
dressed with milk thickened with flour and 
seasoned with salt.” 
A basket of small sour apples were iu the 
kitchen, and as soon as my potatoes were in, 1 
turned forward the draft in the range, put on 
a porcelain vessel with a little water and com¬ 
menced on the apples. I quartered them, 
took out the cores and faults, rinsed them and 
put them on to cook and covered. 
Now', for eggs, aud as the words came to 
mind, "Never fry what you can broil or boil 
or hake,” I decided on an omelette. For five 
of us I took four eggs, putting whites into one 
bowl and yelks in another, aud taking a Do¬ 
ver egg-beater commenced on the former. 
John was working near the door and heard 
me, so he came in to beat them. "It will 
surely be good, John, for it always has been 
w'heu you help me,” 1 said, as I gave up the 
beater. 
The apples were cooked by this time, so I 
placed the colander in a pan and with a 
masher bad the sauce and skins separate, 
sweetened and in a dish on the table so quickly 
I w'as surprised. Ah! I thought to myself 
that is a saving of labor the Rural sisters 
must know. I placed the spider on the fire 
with a little butter, ami John asks, “What 
next?” as the white froth stood stiff. The 
yelks now, aud when they were beaten 1 
turned the two together, beating enough to 
mix thoroughly and salted, pouring into hot 
spider aud placing in the oven. 1 then fixed 
the potatoes, made coffee iu the Ideal coffee 
pot, which only took about three seconds, aud 
after getting the children seated and our¬ 
selves and the blessings of God invoked. I 
opened the oven door, slipped the omelette on 
a platter and placed it before John. It looked 
more like a cake than a breakfast clisli, it was 
so light aud round with a touch of color about 
it. 
With milk for the children, coffee as clear 
as amber for the grown folks, uud good bread 
and butter, we had enough and no one touched 
a dish of oatmeal prepared the day before, 
After the meal 1 went right to the kitchen. 1 
had poured water into every vessel used for 
preparing breakfast, leaving nothing to dry, 
and iu less time than it takes me to tell it the 
bowls, egg-beater, Colander and kettles were 
washed ami put away. 
1 then clenued oil the table, piled up the 
dishes systematically aud Gertie washed and 
rinsed them and I sat. down aud wiped them, 
While she cleaned the sink and wiped it up, 
careful not to leave a drop of water, 1 did the 
dining-room work, finishing by washing the 
crumb-cloth, which, by the way, is oil-cloth, 
with milk after first going over it with water, 
and then everything was iu readiness for re¬ 
setting the table 
1 endorse the pie reform and little cuke with 
plenty of fruit, fresh as it grows in the season, 
but to go without table-cloths anil all eat out 
of the same dish—uever ! Cook nourishing 
food in tiie best manner and serve it like peo¬ 
ple of culture, not like Hotentotts or barba¬ 
rians. Make every' step y'ou take count not 
one only, but more. Be mistress of your 
work, not the shirking slave of toil but its 
queenly mistress, making whatever you do 
yield the best fruits. 
- ♦ ♦ » - 
ONE NOBLE LIFE. 
In northern Vermont, on one of the beautiful 
green hills, so broad and gently undulating 
that it is called “ The Plain,” serenely' resting 
under the shadow of Mt. Mansfield lies a coun¬ 
try burial ground. W r e were often led to this 
pleasant spot; it seemed so near the clear blue 
heavens that loaned over and shut it iu, with 
a precious quiet, a hushed silence we might 
call it, which was not felt on the neighboring 
hills so deeply as here, among these silent 
homes. Hallowing influences gave this spot 
a peculiar interest. Here was the ancestral 
burial-ground; upon mossy, leaning head¬ 
stones we traced names as familiar as house¬ 
hold words, though the persons who were 
known by them had passed away before life for 
us began. It seemed as if they were with us 
yet. Among them is one of a youth of 10 years, 
of whom from childhood we have heard remi- 
niseences proving how he was loved and cher¬ 
ished with no common degree of affection by 
friends who have nearly all gone to join him. 
Tim stone bears the date 1 Sill—fifty years iu 
Heaveu! The tender mother who mourned 
him all the years of her journey here, was wont 
to say as the years rolled around, “To-day r is 
E.’s birthday!” musing and ever keeping it as 
a sacred day. Her mind was tilled with the 
memories of the past and hope for the re-union 
which w r e trust she has siucc realized. At such 
times she appeared drawn into a realm of 
thought apart from us all. Softly we spoke to 
her, lest the jarring of passing events should 
rudely break the spell which bound her 
and restored one who was not last to her 
mother-heart, but separated for a season, and 
was still one of her dear household band, w hose 
onward way she followed with affectionate 
yearning, as spirit follows spirit. Other sons 
moving on iu the march of life had wandered 
far from the old home, lured by dreams of 
ambition, and seut her tidings of their joys 
and triumphs, but “ E,” had gone to that un¬ 
discovered country whither our hearts contin¬ 
ually turn seeking those we hold dear. A char¬ 
acter so elevated, so spiritually-minded as 
was this sou and brother, is interesting indeed. 
His letters to the loved ones at. home, breath¬ 
ing as they do a spirit of affection, trust and 
peace, seem remarkable for a youug school-boy. 
They read as if the Master had whispered to 
him words unheard by those around, conse¬ 
crating hitn to exemplify in his short life, 
Faith, Hope, and Love. Feelings of disap¬ 
pointment and loss, so painful to witness iu 
the death of many young persons, who have 
regarded life only as a succession of years of 
happiness, and made plans for that alone, 
troubled not his heart, but steadfast ly leaning 
on the Father’s sacred promises, that, whether 
continuing here in human brotherhood, or re¬ 
moved from earth, he was still iu His keeping. 
His letters to a young sister are so earnest in 
tone, we copy a few lines. Referring to a re¬ 
vival of religion in the church at home, he 
writes: “ I regret that I was unable to stay 
longer at home; the situation is deeply inter¬ 
esting to every true Christian, and I hope you 
are not Indifferent. Your ultimate object in 
all your plans, like the rest of mankiud, is hap¬ 
piness; but you must dojiend on something 
more substantial than the Meeting pleasures of 
this world, or disappointment will bo yours 
finally. Be exceedingly careful not to grieve 
away the Spirit of Truth by indulging in 
frivolous conversation. Read the Bible atten¬ 
tively; there you will find the road to unfading 
happiness, and there the avenue to immor¬ 
tality. Remember, it is the true Christian 
alone who eau have real enjoyment iu this 
life or hope for it iu a life to come.” Solemn 
words of cheer from one so young 1 A long and 
most painful illness carried him across the 
river; sufferings, borne with such fortitude, 
deepened the lustre of his life aud veri¬ 
fied its sincerity. 
“Death hath made no breach 
In love and sympathy, iu hope and trust; 
No outward sign or souud our ears eau reach. 
But there’s an inward, spiritual speech 
That greets us still, though mortal tougue be 
dust.” E. J. S. 
Domestic (I'conotaT) 
CONDUCTED BY EMM Y MAPLE. 
CHATS WITH RURAL GIRLS WHO EX¬ 
PECT TO BE HOUSEKEEPERS. 
MAY' MAPLE. 
No. 1. 
“ Girls who expect to be housekeepers! ” 1 
wonder if there is a single girl throughout the 
length aud breadth of our land who dees not 
