worn over the long gloves, and a heavy, solid 
walking boot, complete this thoroughly warm 
and sensible outfit for winter. The little chil¬ 
drens 1 wraps are of plush flannel iu stripes an 
inch or more wide, of two colors, red and 
navy blue being a favorite combination, the 
dainty hoods of silk and zephyr, mittens and 
leggins to correspond, and they are as well 
equippe 1 as little Red Riding Hood of old, and 
much better entertaiued. No pains are spared 
in the preparation of childrens books and who 
can see them without a desire to wander 
back and enjoy again life’s morning with them. 
In t 03 's one novelty is hot air toys made of 
bristol board, lithographed, and set in motion 
by tbe air from gas light lamp, store or fur¬ 
nace, yet withall a poor substitute for kite 
flying out of doors. cora. 
without improving it? Has no one fallen in 
love with that beautiful range? Would not 
that fruit dryer save lots of hard work for a 
large family? And the Cabinet creamer! 
What, housewife, who is proud of her gilt- 
edged butter, can see this rare chance for 
possessing such a useful article, without making 
an extra effort to get it? We know that money 
is scarce in some portions of the country, bat 
two dollars for fifty-two papers is cheap, to 
say nothing about the after usefulness of the 
Rural as a standard reference. We sincerely 
hope our friends will read again the gift 
premium list that was sent out in Nov. 8th 
issue, and that we shall have evidence of this 
in the subscribers which shall be forwarded to 
us.— Eds. 
SUSY’S RICK-RACK PRIZE. 
for Women. 
CONDUCTED BY MISC RAY CLARK. 
A CHICAGO LETTER. 
Though Thanksgiving day came to us, 
veiled in icy sleet and rain, instead of the 
mantle of snow, it was none tbe less welcome, 
for to the workers in all great, cities, holidays 
are too few. Besides the usual gathering of 
friends and families and services in the 
churches the friendless were also considered, 
for this city is one of unbounded benevolence. 
Tbe Home of the Friendless gave dinners to 
168 persons. Tbe Old Ladies Home 65 inmates 
from tbe age of 60 years up to 96—what a tea 
drinking! The Chicago Ave. Church largely 
engaged in work among the poor of tbe “North 
Side” gave a pound party. All donors being 
invited to a musical and literary entertain¬ 
ment by the Potter Sisters. The gifts were 
judiciously distributed, teams goiug all day 
and giving their services, which made the 
occasion a pleasant and memorable one to the 
needy of that locality. Considerable sums of 
money were also given with the pound contri¬ 
butions. This plan will suggest opportuni¬ 
ties to many for the coming Christmas and 
New Years. The day here was also improved 
by dedicating the new Cook Co. Hospital, the 
Mayor, Congressmen and City Officials with 
their ladies being present, gave an air of gaiety 
to e’en so somber a place as a hospital must 
be. The Press Club gave their annual banq uet 
with music, and a recitation by Barrett tbe 
actor of “Shamus O’Brien.” Stars abound 
herein the theatrical sky, pictures confront 
one from the street windows of Clara Morris 
fair and lovely. Ristori dark and grand. 
Airnee vain and frivolous. Yet notwithstand¬ 
ing the general good feeling that prevailed 
a crowd of malcontents, gathered on Market 
Street to listen to the ranting of one of their 
Socialistic leaders as he denounced the gover¬ 
nor’s proclamation for a thanksgiving day 
while there were 40.000 unemployed laborers 
in this city alone and that the black flag 
should that day be for the first time un¬ 
furled on U. S. Soil. The crowd then formed 
in line, and mai'cbed through the principal 
avenues where the wealthy class reside, 
shouting the Marseilles and displaying flags 
and banners setting forth their grievances. 
The police kept out of their way; no alterca¬ 
tions took place, fullest liberty was allowed 
them as citizens of a eouutry whose laws 
they denounced. We could but think, how 
different all would have been with them, if 
three months ago they had been out upon the 
farms of this and the neighboring states 
assisting the overtaxed men who put their 
hauds to tbe plows aud patiently labored 
in rain and sunshine until the bountiful har¬ 
vest was garnered in. Then might they have 
joined in tbe thanksgiving rather than the 
discordant notes of complaining. 
It is evident to even the casual observer 
that dame Fashion (despite her reputation for 
capriciouaness) Las this year, taken counsel of 
common sense. lutho present styles, elegance, 
comfort and economy, are duly considered. 
The long gracefully clinging cloaks, unite the 
advantages of both the circular and dolman, 
trimmed with deep bauds and collar of fur 
seem able to defy the wintry blasts as effectu¬ 
ally as a garment can. The neat little velvet 
bonnets ornamented with bright wings or the 
iridescent plumage of birds, are a pleasure 
to behold, and in much better taste than the 
immense black hats last worn, with funereal 
plumes waving arid nodding in the summer 
air, and overshadowing the fair wearer. One 
could but imagine, she like Mrs. Boffin in 
“Great Expectations” had come into sudden 
possession of wealth that required a great out¬ 
lay in black velvet and feathers to fill the 
new position with dignity. 
Still there creeps into every years’ styles some¬ 
thing of the crude aud barbaric taste. This 
year it is a glittering array of gilt pins, arrows, 
daggers awkwardly sticking about the scarf 
that encircles the felt hats, designed for young 
ladies’s wear, as if it were fresh from an en¬ 
counter where mimic arrows, spears aud 
javelins were the weapons employed. And 
too, the bangle jewelry, cloak clasps of exag¬ 
gerated dimensions with chains depending 
therefrom. Two or three of these being some¬ 
times used t,o fasten one unoffending cloak. 
Yet this glitter and jingle harmonizes with 
the taste of some, and adds variety that spice 
of life, affords a pleasing diversity, aud calls 
for no sacrifice of comfort on tbe part of the 
wearer. The brocade velvets are from long as¬ 
sociation the material for upholstering work, 
yet still woru in wraps though losing favor 
and greatly reduced in price. Rich shades 
of brown dress goods in all wool are worn 
with vests, cuffs and collars of plaiu velvet the 
same shade, elaborate gilt or jeweled buttons 
closing the vest with very rich effect. Deep 
shoulder capes of blsck fur, or beaver with 
muff to match. Mittens of silk or fine wool 
THE UNFINISHED WORK. 
How ofteu are we, poor mortals, compelled 
to lay aside our cherished plans—unfinished. 
Indeed, this world seems but a preparatory 
school; a studio where we paint the back¬ 
ground of gorgeous pictures but to fill them 
up with half-formed objects; a class in which 
welearna few notes of some divine melody 
whose rich, full tones are to be sung hereafter. 
In youth we dream of the work we will do 
in tbe coating years; how useful and honored 
we will lie; and how our every talent shall be 
cultivated, and yield us and others pleasure 
and profit. 
We commence our career with enthusiasm 
and learn the rudiments of some delightful 
task, but to lay it aside for the stern duties 
calling us away. We find the years growing 
shorter and the demands of business and home 
life becoming stronger and more exacting, 
aud we put aside our favorite studies—un¬ 
finished! 
Bee that merchant with nervous haste hur¬ 
rying to bis office, his mind full of projects for 
the business of the day; be works hard, schem¬ 
ing, that he may obtain a larger amount of 
wealth; suddenly he finds his plans baffled, 
and failure is his portion; he puts aside his 
work—unfinished. The farmer rises early to 
secure his golden grain, the result of his hon¬ 
est toil; he forms plans by which his work is 
to be conducted in the future; he will build a 
more commodious baru aud beautify bis 
home—when, lo! sickness overtakes him, aud 
he realizes that he must give up his work—un- 
fiqished. 
A writer who loved his fellow-men, and 
whose sweet stories thrilled all true hearts the 
world over, commenced a book which was to 
send sunshine into the homes of thousands— 
when, alas! disease and death claimed him; 
hripen dropped, his work was—unfinished. 
Many a loving mother forms plans for a 
dear son, or daughter, whose early youth is 
bright with promise of long years of pleasure; 
her brain contrives; her hands toil for the 
precious ones; she makes the “coat of many 
colors,” or weaves the silken gown, only to 
put them away—unworn. 
Do we think with sadness of all this? Ah I 
we have but half considered the matter. 
Surely there is a region where we shall find 
that our work on earth was preparing us for 
more noble employments, for exalted service. 
Is it not impressed upon our “heart of 
hearts” that there is not a single aspiration or 
good desire that shall lie lost; that all our 
longings here for knowledge shall there be 
satisfied; that every talent shall be used aud 
multiplied? 
Let us then take up our work with braver 
hearts and perform our duties with stronger 
hands. 
“For now we flight the battle. 
But then shall wear the crown 
Of full auU everlasting 
And passionless renown.” 
S. S. 
-*-4-*- 
Ladies Necessaire, Open. 
OUR GIFT PREMIUMS. 
We desire to call the special attention of our 
lady friends to the exceeding good aud useful 
articles to be given away to those who send 
iu the largest clubs. Thus far, the returns 
have been slow and the clubs small. Can it he 
possible that the wives of our farmers are go¬ 
ing to allow this splendid opportunity to pass 
“I suppose you went to the fair last week, 
Susy.” 
“Oh, yes, we always go. Every one in the 
family takes something. We pay a quarter to 
enter an article, aud then get tickets for all 
three days.” 
“Did you get any prizes?” 
“Yes, I had a prize for this rick-rack dress 
of Maud’s. There was not another piece as 
fine as that in the whole hall.” 
“Why, when did you get time to make such 
a piece of work as that?” 
“Well,” said Susy, rather hesitatingly, “I 
didn’t just—a—make it—a—all myself. Cous¬ 
in Maud, after whom our Maudie is uamed, 
sent it down for a present. As we had it, I 
thought it might as well go in; it was ours, 
you know.” 
“I thought it was distinctly stated that all 
the exhibits must be tbe work of those who 
enter them, or must have been raised by 
them?” 
“How do they know!” said Susy, with a 
sniff of contempt, “Don't the girls take in 
their mother’s bread, and jelly, and pickles, 
and enter them in their own Dames?” 
“That’s the way you girls did,” said Jamie, 
resentfully, “but you would not let me take 
that scroll-saw bracket, and I know I should 
have taken the prize on it.” 
“You would have been surely found out, 
Jamie, for you hove no scroll-saw and never 
had. AH tbe neighbors know that. Now. I 
do lots of fancy work—rick-rack and all 
sorts.” 
“All the sin of it. Miss Russell, is in being 
found out,” said Jamie. “It is no matter 
how many lies folks tell so you don’t catch 
’em ” 
“James Miner, I’ll tell your mother how 
you talk,” said Busy, sharply. You’d better 
go out and split up your kindling wood ” 
“I have some other business on hand just 
now, Miss Miner,” and he snatched up his 
marble bag. “You see if I don’t have this 
full of alleys when I come back." 
“You’d better not let mother know you 
play for keeps,” was Susy’s parting advice as 
the door closed. "Boys are perfectly awful, 
I think, and James will play for keeps des¬ 
pite all that, mother and 1 say to him. He 
says all tbe boys do, so there is no harm in it 
Boys don’t seem to have any conscience, and 
yet I have tried my best to teach Jamie what 
was right. But it seems to make but little 
impression,” and Busy sighed regretfully. 
olive. 
Ladies Necessaire, Closed. 
Domestic Ccfmomi) 
CONDUCTED BY KMII-Y MAPLE. 
LETTERS FROM THE “HUB.” 
ANNIE L. JACK. 
My Faithful Mentor:—Now that I am 
settled in this city and Harold has furnished 
this snug home nest, I think that for awhile I 
will send you a weekly letter of my housekeep¬ 
ing snares and ventures, for ymu know well 
that when 1 left my father’s house 1 rather 
prided-myself on not knowing anything about 
such domestic duties. Mamma and I -aura had 
been at the helm eversiuce I can remember, 
aud mamma is so capable aud Laura so fond 
of being head, that it was useless for poor 
little me to attempt any experiments or offer 
my assistance. So I had what is generally 
called a “good time:” I danced, flirted, sang, 
talked nonsense to the men, played the 
piano with what is called a “brilliant touch,’’ 
and embroidered conventional flowers on tbe 
backs of impossible chairs. I say’ “impossi¬ 
ble” because no one could sitdown ou them for 
fear of ruffling the flowers the wrong way 
aud fraying the edges. It is true I was 
handy with my needle and could trim my own 
bonnets, and even make myself a plain dress. 
They all allowed I had a knack for trimming, 
and secured my services for arranging the 
table for a dinner party, or tbe holidays, 
and I was always in request for bazars, 
or for church decorations. But for real 
useful work, I was of such little good that 
Laura used to say she would rather bribe me 
to stay out of the kitchen than in it. 
And here I am married to a poor, strug¬ 
gling professional man, who is not able as yet 
to keep a servant to assist me. We have 
furnished apartments.and do our own cooking. 
1 say “our” for Harold is so good he often 
helps with the breakfast, for he says he learn¬ 
ed to fry meat, and make any amount of 
omelets wheu be camped out in the Adiron- 
dacks. I think camping out is a “real' 1 good in¬ 
stitution for men, for though it isn’t just 
housekeeping, it gives them some ideas of the 
work there is to be done, and they have to re¬ 
member the three meals that are such a daily 
burden to a woman’s mind. Of course, we 
buy our bread, and get our milk at the door, 
and everything comes home quite handy from 
the grocer’s; but I have found out that 
Harold dosn’t like canned things too often. 
It isn't that he is afraid of the tins being 
poisonous; but he says freshly’ cooked food 
has more of a homey flavor, and vegetables 
too, and then tbe latter are cheapest. We 
foitunately agree on all points, even to my 
ignorance, for when 1 first tried to iron bis 
shirts and made such a botch of them, he said 
I was “the dearest little ignorant goose”—and 
since then we have sent them to the laundry, 
so that 1 am really “dear” to him in far more 
ways than one. 
I haven’t time to tell you all in this letter, 
but I just want to say that I have commenced 
to take lessons in cookiDg, and I assure you 
Mrs. Lincoln has opened my eyes to a great 
many things 1 did not know, both in the 
economy and the uses of many dishes. It is 
so interesting to go there, and be able to take 
home something nice, and say:—“I helped 
cook this,” and then experiment the next day, 
though the result is often a secret between 
myself and the ash man. But I am really do¬ 
ing better, aud Harold appreciates it. He 
praises everything I give him to eat, and 
though he always makes the oyster soup, I 
know I could make it. But I mnst stop aud 
putin a Welsh rarebit for supper; but next 
time 1 write I will give you an account of 
what we do under Mrs. Lincoln's supervision. 
Kindly accept our nuite-d wishes for the New 
Year (I haven’t time to make any gifts) and 
before the happy man puts in an appearance, 
be sure, dear Nan., to fit yourself to be bis 
help-meet, also, if the last syllable is spelled 
with an a. There, that’s abominable, good¬ 
bye! Your loving friend Margaret. 
HOUSEKEEPERS’ MUTUAL HELP 
CLUB. 
GLADDYS WAYNE. 
Fresh beef is so much better and more 
wholesome than salted that we like to have 
the butchering delayed until freezing weather. 
A large piece, perhaps a whole quarter, may 
then be hung iu a cold place, and be excellent 
for steaks, roasts and soups until all is used. 
Another plan seems good and very handy, 
rendering the meat more get-at-able when 
frozen: cut the beef iu sizable pie es and put 
it in a barrel, sprinkling a little salt between 
the layers. Cover the barrel ami set it iu a 
cold place. It is said to keep nice and -fresh 
all through the cold weather. 
This Fall, considering the rather unexpected¬ 
ly mild weather, our butchering was done too 
early to admit of keeping the beef fresh long. 
Not wishing to subsist altogether ou corned 
beef, we were at a loss how to salt it, aud have 
our beef steak too. Finding the following in 
“Dr. Chase’s Recipe Book,” we decided to 
try it. “Beef to Pickle for Winter and Pres¬ 
ent Use aud for Drying: Cut your beef into 
sizable pieces, sprinkle a little salt upon tbe 
bottom of the barrel only, then pack your 
beef without salt amongst it. and wheu packed 
pour over it a brine, made by dissolving six 
pounds of salt for each one hundred pounds of 
beef, in just sufficient cold water to handsome¬ 
ly cover it.” 
But Grandpa was fearful that it would 
not “keep,” so we concluded to have a 
little of the salt sprinkled on each layer, aud 
the remainder was dissolved iu cold water 
enough to cover the beef. A large, flat stone 
was then laid ou tbe meat to keep it under 
