SEPT 8 
Herr Pollini has offered Wagner’s widow 
the sum of 1,000,000 marks for the exclusive 
rights of “Parsifal,” which, however, she has 
declined. The reason for her refusal, which 
is unaccountable c onsidering the high price 
offered, does not transpire. 
Sweden has given the degree of doctor 
of philosophy to the daughter of an army 
officer. 
A woman at a White Mountain hotel is the 
owner of a very haudsomely painted black 
satin parasol, which she keeps open, not only 
out-of-doors, but in the house. She has it 
spread over-head when sitting on the piazza, 
when crossing the hall, and even when ascend¬ 
ing the stairs, probably from absent-mind¬ 
edness. 
Tt is said that Queen Victoria objects to 
lodging and boarding her sons when they 
visit her at Buckingham Palace, on account 
of the “confusion and expense,” especially 
the latter. She intends to prevent their doing 
so in the future. As a preliminary her Majes¬ 
ty has issued an order that any royalties re¬ 
siding there for more than three days must 
bring their own servants and provide for 
themselves. 
The daughter of the late Ball Hughes, the 
Boston sculptor, Miss Georgiana Ball Hughes, 
has quite a reputation as an artist in London. 
Mrs. Stowe has in contemplation a new 
novel, proposing to illustrate it herself. She 
hopes never to he too old to write love 
stories. 
The drawing-room of Madam Albani, at 
South Kensington, is ornamented by a por¬ 
trait of President Arthur, with a complimen¬ 
tary dedication. 
The great simplicity of the hats of the 
Princess of Wales has enraged the London 
re illiuers. 
Fanny Davenport writes that she is still 
busy studying Fedora up at lier country place 
among the mountains of Pennsylvania. When 
ready to appear in Sardou’s great play a strong 
and finished impersonation may be confidently 
expected. 
Rumor says Mrs. Langtry Las given up the 
idea of giving a performance in London. She 
will return to New York on a steamer w hich 
will leave Liverpool October 6. 
Miss Mollie Garfield is now a girl of lfi. 
She is credited as charming, and possessing a 
greater share of physical beauty than any 
other member of the family. She is pursuing 
her studies at a private school and is a bright 
scholar 
-♦ ♦ 
HOW TO SPEND EVENINGS. 
This is a theme that has probably given 
mothers more anxious thoughts than almost 
any problem that ever foil to their lot to Solve; 
at least, it was the case with me. I was, unfor¬ 
tunately ,the mistress of a clouded home. Intem¬ 
perance darkened very many days; and even 
shaded the brightest ones. My children were 
all that gave me comfort, and to shield them 
from temptation, keep them under my own 
watchful eyes, make their home happy, was 
the one great object of my life. There were 
so many attractions to wile my boys away 
from home, that I knew, unless I could make 
home the pleasantest place for them they 
would be enticed into the ways of evil, and if 
once removed from their mother’s influence, 
they would be lost; therefore, 1 exerted all my 
ingenuity to accomplish this object. The 
babies were always put to bod right early 
for boys are uot fond of cross, crying babies, 
and the three-year-old ones and those younger 
are better off to go to Iasi with the birdies 
than they are to sit up and worry and fret 
the entire evening. So when the chores were 
done, the little things were regularly un¬ 
dressed and laidtosleep till morning; and then 
the older children had their good time. They 
would Lake a map of some country, and find 
places for mother to look up, and then I would 
find some city, tow r u, liver or mountain 
for them to hunt after. It was great fun, 
and it not only kept them happy, but gave 
them a most thorough geographical knowl¬ 
edge of the localities of the earth. Before 
they were tired of this, we would change the 
order of exercises, and either have a game 
of jack-straws, arithmetic cards, questions 
and answers, hunt the slipper or hide the 
thimble. Sometimes they had a candy pull 
or made com balls till the clock struck 
eight when they tidied up the sitting-room, 
or kitchen wherever they had played, and be¬ 
fore nine o’clock they were snug in l>ed, and 
mother bad to make up lost time by working 
as fast as possible. As they grew older, they 
had to have deeper games, and home-made 
dissected maps and puzzles were substituted, 
then by-and-by came checkers, back-gammon 
and—shall I record it?--1 let them have the 
real wicked cards to play with. I thought the 
matter over soberly and candidly. I could 
not always keep my darlings as now, they 
must sometime mingle with society, and they 
would naturally come in contact with cards. 
There is a fasciuation in the game; an excite¬ 
ment, and, like measles and mumps,the earlier 
they catch it the lighter it luns. I knew 
that in the natural cause of events, they 
would catch the disease, and 1 thought mother 
could carry them through it safer than one 
who had no interest in their welfare. They 
played all sorts of games with them, and some¬ 
times the neighboring urchins would come in 
and spend the evening and teach them some 
new tricks 1 never allowed any cheating or 
unfairness in any game. Well, cards bad 
their full run, and like the other childish 
games, were followed by reading and music. 
As the girls came ou to mingle in the amuse¬ 
ments they played the same games as their 
brothere and the cards went down to the 
smaller children who built houses, made rail¬ 
ways and at last cut out the kings and queens 
and jacks for dolls, and the fancy for card¬ 
playing passed away and uot one of the whole 
family care more for them than they do for 
jack straws. They had enough of them 
when they were children. ’ 
One amusement they still enjoy, and we all 
like it pretty well and indulge in it quite otten 
in the Winter, that is the candy pulling. 
As they grew older they became interested 
in.scrap-books and many a cozy evening flitted 
by in that occupation. I took especial pains 
to furnish good reading, such as would interest 
and instruct, and they all enjoyed reading im¬ 
mensely and now wish nothing better when 
the day's labor is ended than to read the papers 
or an interesting book. The girls sing and 
play the organ, read some, sew an hour or two; 
but the last hour of the evening they read or 
draw. It is very seldom that they care to 
spend a whole evening away from home; a 
lecture or a concert will sometimes attract 
them, and occasionally an invitation toa party 
will be accepted, but their greatest happiness 
is found at home. They enjoy receiving 
their young friends at home far more than 
they do paying visits abroad. They huve all 
arrived at the full statue of men and women, 
and it is the happiest time of the day when 
we all gather in the pleasant sitting-room and 
talk over the events of each passing day. The 
cloud was lifted long ago from our home aud 
the sad memories are all that remain to annoy 
and I sometimes think that had it not 
been, 1 should not have tried so hard to make 
a pleasant home for my children. 
grandmother. 
CONCERNING BOOKS FOR THE HOUSE¬ 
HOLD. 
ANNIE L. JACK. 
If I lmd to begin life again, and expected to 
educate a family of children, especially if in 
rural districts, the first book I would buy after 
my Bible aud hymn-books, would be a good 
encycloptudia. Then I would subscribe for the 
leading periodicals, and have an illustrated 
copy of Shakespeare, also Milton’s “Paradise 
Lost,” and Sir Walter Scott’s Works. These 
are safe as first impressions to a child, my own 
experience being that the charm of reading 
“Paradise Lost” at ten years of age can 
never be supplanted. Of course, I did not 
pretend to understand the poem, but its deep 
meaning and beautiful rendering fascinated 
me, aud I can yet remember whole pages of 
some of ui}' favorite parts learned at that 
time. 
In our home tl.e leading American periodi¬ 
cals have been of wonderful value to the 
children. Having bound the volumes as they 
came out the cost did not seem so much, and 
now the third group of children are beginning 
to take an interest in the pages of “ St. Nicho¬ 
las” and “Wide Awake,” and after they are 
tired of these they will turn to “ScribnerV- 
aud “ Harper’s,” andenjoy the varied contents 
of th&se that are pure and refined reading, 
suited to the simple and to the cultivated taste. 
I became a subscriber to the Atlantic Monthly 
when it first came out, twenty-five years ago. 
I was then a young girl, too young, some 
thought, to understand such a magazine. Yet, 
its poems and the sayings of its beloved uuto- 
crat are fresher in my memory to-day than 
things I read and tried to remember yester. 
day, and now my gills take down the treas¬ 
ured volumes from their shelves and peruse 
with the enjoyment a book-worm might envy, 
the new, old writings of the men aud women 
who gave their best and freshest thoughts to 
its pages. So I am safe in recommending the 
magazines as a value to the household. And 
with these and a good daily paper, with the 
Rural New Yorker to infuse new ideas of 
agriculture and horticulture, every family 
irau enjoy and improve tile long Winter even¬ 
ings to the best advantage. 
I do not look at the matter just from my 
own standpoint, for 1 am aware that the book 
store is my one extravagance ; that it is 
harder for me to resist a coveted book than a 
whole milliner’s shop of bonnets. But, know¬ 
ing the value of good readiug in the case of 
many young people, I recommend the neces¬ 
sary outlay as a domestic economy in the end. 
I have never regretted the purchase of Miss 
Alcott’s “Little Women,” as birthday gifts, 
nor the rest of the charming stories that fol¬ 
lowed from her pen: while Mrs. Whitney’s life 
stories are better than some sermons in teach¬ 
ing girls lessons of helpfulness and content¬ 
ment. Marian Harlauil’s cook book was the 
birthday gift to a daughter who showed a 
taste for fancy dishes, and the well-thumbed 
copy bears evidence of its usefulness, and 
what hoy could resist the “Pilgrim’s Progress,” 
“Robinson Crusoe,” or “Tom Brown’s School¬ 
days.” The first named as Sunday readiug 
has been a safety valve for many a stirring 
youth, Higgiusou’s American History is also 
as good as a story book, and children who are 
interested in flowers will delight in Gray’s 
“How Plants Grow,” and “Ilow Plants Be¬ 
have.” Aud w hat country boy could resist 
the charm of Warner’s "Being a Boy,” or 
Mitchell’s “Farm at Edgewood,” For subtle 
fasciuation with purity of sentiment, Louise 
Chandler Moulton's “Bedtime Stories,” are 
well known. Claiming as I do the authoress 
as a dear friend, 1 know that the charm is 
part of her own personal magnetism. The 
books are pure aud true. I have read “Hans 
Brinker,” by the gifted editor of St, Nicho¬ 
las, but it is uot in our possession yet, lieiug 
one of the pleasures yet in store. Then our 
children should learn of our representative 
men in politics aud in poetry, of the two mar¬ 
tyred Presidents, and of the two lamented 
poets who have been taken from us this year, 
leaving a blank that seems not to be filled. 
Reading the magazines gives one the best of 
present-day literature, aud 1 trust the readers 
Of the Rural will uot consider their gifts all 
distributed without a visit to the bookstores. 
A toy is soon destroyed, little ornaments soon 
lose their lustre and new ness, nut a book goes 
on its way for good or evil as it is chosen, 
passing from hand to hand, and telling its 
story for ever-willing readers. And 1 am 
sure wu ail know some family that would be 
benefited by receiving the Rural for a year, 
that needs some such stimulus, yet has not 
learned its merits, and a gift that comes fifty- 
two times a year makes Christmas last for the 
receiver “all the year round.” 
A GLIMPSE OF THE PAST. 
MRS. EMMA C. STOUT. 
For the past few years there has been such 
a mania for gathering up old relics that 1 sup¬ 
pose the majority of the Rural readers have 
enough specimens of antique table-ware to 
assist their imagination to a tolerably correct 
picturing of a dining-room of 50 years ago. 
But for the sake of some bright young girls 
in Western homes, to whom no great grand¬ 
mother or auntie has bequeathed a share of 
household heirlooms, I shall give you sketches 
of my grandmother’s talks, aud you muy 
thank her if 1 tell you auythiug new'—no, old. 
She is sitting to-day by a cozy, old-fashioned 
fireplace and a corner cupboard in the sitting- 
room is an attractive spot for mo with its 
dinner set of blue and gold, its pewter plates 
blue bowls, yellow dishes and brown pitchers. 
Dear, silver-hailed grandmother! eighty five 
years have crowned her head with the frosty 
glory of old age, and 65 years ago she spread 
her wedding-feast and began the glad trial of 
housekeeping in the verdant Carolinas. 1 can 
almost see her presiding ut that first dainty 
meal in the new home. The snow-white cloth 
that decks the home-made table is of her own 
weaving, the pewter plates are new and shin¬ 
ing, reflecting the image of herself in tow- 
linen dress of white and blue; the knives and 
forks have round handles carved of horn; the 
tea set of blue and gold on creamy white adds 
more color to the pretty picture and the tall 
brass candle-stick in the center of the square 
table bears a candle of her own making, its 
flickering light struggling to out-rival the 
ruddy flames of the snapping wood lire on the 
hearth. Their frugal meal consists of sweet, 
potatoes, baked in the big skillet until all their 
golden wealth and luscious sweetness is ready 
to melt in the eater's month; fresh butter, 
light yellow corn cakes, sweet milk, and oh! 
bight of extravagauee there are four dainty 
white buns, and a blue bowl of pooch pre¬ 
serve's, the ruby juice tempting eye and pal¬ 
ate, and the fragrant sassafras lea is added to 
this list of luxuries. 
Place side by side with this a modern dining¬ 
room with carpet Htid curtains, table laid with 
damask cloth, white napkins, and glisteniug 
with glass and silver, Tho bill of fare is 
oyster soup, crackers and pickles, cold pressed 
chicken, hot buking powder biscuit, coffee, aud 
for desert, rich cake, peaches and cream. 
Contrast the two and decide which wedded 
pair would sit down with keenest appetite and 
sleep with sweetest rest. 
Now for a picture of a harvest meal, yet it 
will hardly be complete without a word about 
the 10 o’clock lunch. Baskets are carried to 
the field filled with ginger bread, apple pie 
and slices of cold mutton; a jug of “bever¬ 
age” is used freely at this mid day repast. In 
many homes the drink sent to the harvesters 
was beer or whiskey, but my grandparents 
were Quakers, and such customs were con¬ 
trary to their discipline, so grandmother 
would make a tempting compound of vinegar, 
water and molasses. When the dinner hoiu 
sounds the hungry men surround the crowded 
board, while their eyes note longingly, the 
huge pone, the rolls of butter, earthen pitch¬ 
ers of sweet milk aud fresh butter-milk, the 
big chicken pic, platters of sliced roast ham, 
deep, yellow dishes of encumbers and onions, 
beet pickles, peas, beans, new potatoes mid 
bowls filled with lettuce, radish es and stewed 
raspberries. Just now the happy hostess en¬ 
ters bearing a plate piled high with generous 
slices of snowy salt rising loaves and placing 
a pitcher of dip on the table with one hand, 
she announces that the apple dumplings are 
boiling in the pot and they can eat 20 minutes 
yet and then have them, “dono toa turn.” 
Place side by side with this a dinner of to¬ 
day with its courses of soups, salads and 
pickles; roast turkey, jellies, cranberry sauce, 
plum pudding, fruit cake and mince pies, ices, 
creams, tea aud coffee. 
Tho supper in harvest time ou the fairn 
would not vary much from the dinner; per¬ 
haps u big dish filled with snowy balls of cot¬ 
tage cheese, drowned in rich cream would be 
added, and if the berry crop were quite plen¬ 
tiful, a saucer of ripe ones might be placed at 
each plate, to be eaten with milk or cream— 
no sugar, it was too costly in those days. If 
the hearty men bad unexpectedly exhausted 
the supply of bread they would be treated to 
the light, sweet pone aud fresh white loaves 
that had been rising in the bright afternoon 
sunshine and were now fresh from the oven. 
Breakfast in Winter was often hominy and 
broiled quail or squirrel, with golden coin 
cakes and butter. The children would tickle 
their appetites between meals with egg shells 
filled with u.aple sugar, taffy or apple and 
peach “leather.” The dining tables then were 
free from food adulterated by commerce. 
-♦ 
FROM THE CHILD’S STANDPOINT. 
It was a dull day and most of the passengers 
in the cars were looking tired aud gloomy, 
not to say fretful, aud but little conversation 
was going on. That made the remark of a 
pretty little boy, in kilts, all the more distinct 
ly heard. 
“Mamma, are we going home ?” 
“Yes, dear.” 
“To my papa’s home?” 
“Yes.” 
The little fellow mused a while happily aud 
then said, half in soliloquy : 
“Aud my papa will say ‘You p’ecious 
lamb!’” 
Every face about brightened, and the pic¬ 
ture called up of that child’s home life was 
perhaps different from the one which some 
remembered. 
Did you ever think bow different a land¬ 
scape looks from a child's standpoint? If uot, 
stoop down some day when you are walking 
with one and look at it from his level. In 
just that way our home life often looks very 
different to him from the way it strikes us. 
We speak hastily and fretfully when in our 
hearts we do uot mean it half. But it is all 
real to him, poor little fellow ! lie believes 
mother thinks him the worst liov in the world 
and the most troublesome and destructive 
one. 
A mother recalled with heart-breaking 
pain the words of a little lamb a few morn¬ 
ings before he was stricken down with a fatal 
sickness. Standing by her side and looking 
earnestly into her face, he asked : 
“Isn’t I a good lioy sometimes, ma!" 
Said another little one to a mother : 
“Do you think I am a good deal better boy 
than I used to be before the baby rlied ?” 
“I don’t know, dear. Why do you usk me?” 
“ ’Cause 1 don’t hardly ever get sent to 
Maggie fer making noises, and papa don’t all 
the time wish 1 was asleep right after supper 
jes ’cause 1 ask him things when he’s reading, 
and lots of other things makes me think 1 am 
bein’ better:” 
Maybe the parents, too, were “bein’ better” 
and more patient now that a little trouble¬ 
some pair of hands and feet had been taken 
out of tlieir way. Sometimes it takes just 
such experiences to open our eyes to our bless¬ 
ings and privileges. 
Don’t wait, dear mother, to huve Death 
show you how much you prized your little 
troublesome boy; don’t lot him feel you don’t 
like him. If there is auythiug his little heart 
cries out for, it is mother-love aud sympathy 
