racuse, N.Y.—A circular showing the manner 
of construction and the uses to which this rig 
may be applied. We have long used a very 
similar arrangement, and for orchard use we 
deem it almost indispensable. We also use it 
largely for other purposes. Address as above 
for this circular. 
The Commonwealth of Geokgia. By J. 
F. Henderson, Commissioner of Agricul¬ 
ture; being a history of the State, its people, 
aDd productions. This is a book of general 
information regarding Georgia, and should be 
read by all who contemplate moving to the 
Sunny South. It can be obtained by address 
ing the Commissioner at Atlanta, Georgia. 
Penguin Island Guano.—A circular from 
Charles Spear, Jr., 85 West Street, N, Y.— 
This gives the composition of this brand of 
fertilizer as found by the Connecticut Experi¬ 
ment Station, and the estimated value as fixed 
by the station. In sending for circulars and 
pamphlets of the various firms, don’t forget 
this. 
for Women. 
CONDUCTED BY MISC RAY CLARK. 
OLD MAIDS. 
There are old maids and old maids; sin¬ 
gle old maids and married old maids, fem¬ 
inine old maids and masculine old maids. 
Now, I Know some of you will laugh, and 
say, “Married old maids! Why who ever 
beard of such a thing?” And auother may 
exclaim iucredulously,“Masculineold maids! ’ 
But it is all true, every word of it. 
In the first place, what is an old maid? 
Well, according to the way the name is used 
nowadays, it is synouomous with cranky, 
crabbed, sour or queer. True, that isn’t the 
meaning given in the dictionary, for that 
says, “An unmanned female, somewhat ad 
vanced in years.” But the instant we hear 
an)one say “old maid,” we always think of a 
thiD, angular person, with a sharp nose, blue 
glasses, and three or four stringy curls dang¬ 
ling around her neck; very fond of parrots, 
cats, etc.; exceedingly fussy, and on the 
whole, hard to get along with. Does that 
description suit anyone whom you know? 
Well, it does some with whom I am very well 
acquainted. This is a picture of a genuine 
“old maid”—of whom the children used to 
sing, 
“Dressed in yellow, pink and blue. 
Poor, old maids— 
Nursing cats is all they do. 
Nursing cut < is ail they do - 
Poor, old maids." 
Then there are married old maids. Who of 
my readers doesn’t know of some married 
women (generally those who have never had 
childreu to upset things) who are fussier than 
the fussiest old maid J Every chair must be 
exactly in its place, every book must be laid 
perfectly straight; not a thing the least par¬ 
ticle awry. Now, for my part, 1 like things 
a little tossed and tumbled, not untidy or 
slovenly, but just enough to make a room 
look as if some one lived in it. 
If “cratiky” and “queer” are synonyms for 
“old maid,” don’t you know dozens of mascu¬ 
line old maids? Ido. How many women who 
have little children, and who allow them to frol¬ 
ic and romp all day, hurry and have everything 
stiff aud tidy, each little child sitting prim and 
straight, as our grandmother of yore, because 
“It’s time for Papa to come: you must be 
perfectly quiet, and don’t upset anything, for 
you know Papa don’t like it," Oh! I’ve heard 
lots of mothers say that. Now 1 think those 
men are the oldest old maids whoever existed. 
What should I have done if my father had 
been such a kind of a man l Why, the memory 
of the merry romps 1 had with him are 
among the happiest reminiscences of my child¬ 
hood. How 1 used to ride "horsey” on his 
foot! How he used to carry me up and down 
stairs pic a back, or as we childreu used to say 
“piggy-back.” 
I think of all the abused creatures in the 
world, old-maids are the worst. J ust let any¬ 
one say "Ob! she’s an old-maid,” aud iustant- 
ly you conjure up the picture I have just de¬ 
scribed. But let me tell you that ninety times 
out of a hundred you will be entirely mistaken. 
There never was a more erroneous idea, than 
that it ie a disgrace to be an old-maid. One 
of the most loving, gentle, amiable persous 
with whom I ever met, was a maiden lady. 
Howsweet! How kind! Oh! what motherly 
tenderness she was capable of! How her heart 
beat iu sympathy with the suffering and 
afflicted! How many weary aching heads 
were made better by the touch of her soft 
gentle loving fiagers? How her sweet blue 
eyes would dance with pleasure as she listened 
to the recital of your joys, or fill with tears at 
your tale of grief! Oh! she was a blessed, 
blessed, old-maid, aud there are hundreds more 
like her, too. How many daughters have 
devoted their lives to their aged parents, have 
lived single for their sakes; have made a 
happy home for some beloved one, aud not 
married because they felt that they had an¬ 
other field of labor. Are these old-maids, as 
we use the term to day? Are these cranks? 
Oh! no. They are the salt of the earth. 
But this foolish idea about old-maidenhood 
has caused many a life to become asbipwreck. 
How many girls marry almost at the first 
chance, "for fear they’ll be oil-maids.” Rush 
right into a sea of trouble, just to be spared 
the mortification (as they consider it) of being 
siugle all their lives. But this is a grand mis¬ 
take. Who wouldn’t rather be the most dis¬ 
mal forlorn old-maid in the world, living all 
alone, than to be a lonely 7 . neglected wife? To 
spend night after night by yourself, not know¬ 
ing when your lord and master will return! 
Ob! Happy old maids! You can go to bed 
and to sleep! Po^r foolish wife! Sleep will 
not come to your eyes until you know that he, 
who, at the altar swore to love and cherish 
you, has come home. Perhaps it will be five 
o’clock in the morning. Oh ! girls, beware. 
I’d rather lie the oldest old-maid—yes, ten 
hundred old m ids, if possible, thau to lie a 
wretched, neg.ected, lonely wife? • Do not be 
in haste to wed. Wait uutil you are mature 
in mind as well as body, before you choose 
your partner for life. What appears to the 
romantic girl of seventeen or eighteen, to be 
a “hero." a "god among men,” to the girl of 
twenty-five seems the most insignificant non¬ 
entity in the world! 
I think that 1 knew almost the oldest old 
maid who ever lived. She died in April, 1880, 
(aged 102.) at Hillbauk, Delaware Co., Pa , 
where she bad passed most all her days. 8he 
bad lived a long, useful life. During her last 
year she pieced twelve whole patchwork 
quilts About a month before her death, the 
family gave a regular old-fashioned “quilting 
party,” and quilted every ooe of them. 1 
shall never forget how happy the poor old 
creature was. Of course, she couldn't leave 
her room, but the young folks danced iu aud 
out all the evening. Ah! who in that locality 
doesn’t remember Allot Betsey Moore? When 
she died 1 heard an old gray ‘haired man say, 
with tears iu his voice as well as his eyes, “She 
never had an enemy in the world.” She had 
been a true, faithful woman, all her life, good 
and kind to every one, and, at her death, was 
blessed by all. D. Harvey coxey. 
ON BOOKS AND THE READING 
THEREOF. 
HOLLY DEAN. 
1 read with genuine satisfaction the ar¬ 
ticle appearing in a late issue of the Rural, 
under the above heading. If the Wise Man 
had lived in the days of the Seaside. Brook- 
side, and other libraries, he might have said 
with even greater emphasis, "Of making 
many books there is no end.” Still we must 
not be too hard on the publishers of cheap 
literature, even though as your correspondent 
has stated, it has been the ruin of book mon¬ 
opolies, for we must bear in mind that by 
their labor many of the standard works 
of English writers tave become accessible to 
thousands who before were denied the privi¬ 
lege of possessing them. 1 wish that the word 
“read'' could he sounded as an animating war- 
cry iu the ears of every farmer’s daughter. 
The laDd is Hooded with good cheap editions of 
almost everything worth reading, both in 
prose and poetry, and yet hundreds of girls, 
surrouuded by the beauteous array of Nature, 
are content to sweep and dust and wash dishes, 
and never become acquainted with the pro 
ducts of master minds. There is no reason 
why any intelligent girl, I care not how un¬ 
favorable her circumstances, should be 
uneducated. Education is not all of the 
school-room. Many a girl leaves school early 
with the promise of future "music lessons” 
as are incentive. She learns "to play,” re¬ 
ceives the blind encomiums of fluttering 
friends for her indifferent performances; after 
"taking lessons” for a short time, forgets 
it altogether. 1 would uofc derogate the 
value of music as a part of a liberal education, 
but I would rather a daughter of mine should 
be acquainted with poetry—the music of the 
soul—than be able to play the most difficult 
music ever composed. Au obstacle presents 
itself at the very outlet. What shall we read? 
This is an important question, and perhaps no 
answer can be given applicable to every case. 
W e cannot begin at the beginning. The works 
of England’s l>est poets abound in classical 
allusions unintelligible to the general reader, 
and through our lack ol understanding, we 
fail, aud acquire a distaste for standard liter¬ 
ature. Read Whittier, Bryant, Longfellow, 
Hawthorne, Irving and George Eliot. You 
cannot fail to lie interested. £ know of no 
satisfaction quite so complete as reading 
Whittier's “Snow Bound,” by.a warm fireside 
when the Winter storm rages around the old 
farm house, and makes real the most natural 
poem ever written. Every woman has a 
taste lor the beautiful. The easy flow of Ir¬ 
ving’s prose is something to be felt, aud L kuow 
of no more perfect model to Imitate in our 
use of the English language. Read George 
Eliot’s "Adum Bede,’’and “Mill on the Floss.” 
Id them you hold converse with one of the 
most accomplished women of modern times 
and aside from the purity of diction, the latter 
especially is studded with purugom& of thought 
worthy the genius of a Shakespeare. A work 
of fiction consisting only of a plot Is necessarily 
a crude production. Yet the charm of Haw¬ 
thorne’s "JScarlet Letter” centres at a first 
reading on the story, though it nbouuds in 
concentrated wisdom, aud beauty of expres 
sion. The intelligent reading of the works of 
such writers is uu education in itself. 
Domestic CcoiTomi) 
CONDUCTED BY EMU Y MAPLE. 
KITCHEN TALKS. 
ANNIE L. JACK. 
The Rural came to the kitchen this morn¬ 
ing as I sat by the south window, aud I looked 
at its pleasant pages with the usual interest. 
Editorials aud horticultural articles first en¬ 
gross my attention, and this time when I 
came to Domestic Economy I found near it 
Miss Taplin's bright and sensible article in 
defence of novel reading. 1 smiled to myself 
as, looking at the wall, a large picture 
of "Dickens at Home" met my gaze, and 1 re¬ 
membered bow dear his writings had ever 
been to me. In another room I knew that 
pictures of other novel writers would greet 
me, and the author of "Roinola” seemed al¬ 
most a personal friend, from the close friend¬ 
ship she gave to one who is dear to me. 
"But,” 1 said to the Amateur Cook, “it is not 
every one who can put down ‘The Duchess” 
and read ‘Herbert Spencer,’ and I think my 
plea still holds good that the books are in the 
minority that are ‘striking for purity of sen¬ 
timent and helpfulness of purpose.’” The 
attendant of a lending library uot long since 
told me the class of books mostly inquired for, 
and “Mrs. Southwortb" and “Ouida” stood a 
long way ahead of “Kingsley” or “Howells,” 
and this was in the oldest established lending 
library in the heart of a city*. The owner, a 
friend of long years' standing, uever sees me 
without deploring the frivolous taste of the 
majority, which does uot, however, iu the 
least disparage the minority, who are able to 
enjoy varied diet with a good souud digestion. 
The Amateur Cook was busy making gin¬ 
ger snaps, and just then brought me some to 
taste. They were very good and had plenty 7 of 
snap, like the article l had been reading. 
The artist of the family is making designs 
for a rag rug, which is to be mapped out in 
the colors to be used, before it is commenced. 
"Rag rugs,” said a lady visitor, "seem such a 
waste of time!" But, when prettily contrasted 
in color they use up many odd, blight gar¬ 
ments that have hal their day, and would be 
otherwise useless. We get au empty rice bag 
for a foundation, and with a stout hook the 
strips of cloth are pulled through 
“Give me your recipe for ginger snaps,” 1 
said to the maker, and she stopped rolling 
long enough for me to jot it down: 
One scant cup of sugar, one cup of molasses, 
one of butter or lard and oue teaspoonful of 
soda, two tablespoonfuls of ginger and flour 
to a stiff paste. To keep them crisp, never 
place in u box with other cake—a tight tin 
box is best. 
♦ ♦ » 
HERE AND THERE. 
“May Maple,” in the Rural of February 
7, talks about “stopping the leaks,” a subject 
of a good deal of interest to me, as I have 
several tin dishes which need tinkering, and 
we have no tin-shop iu our little towu. As 
for the lead, where can 1 get it, and when got, 
how can I use it, having always understood, 
a* a chemical fact, that iron could not be used 
iu soldering tin, but copper must form the 
soldering heater?—[Copper is used for solder¬ 
ing purposes, not on account of any chemical 
effect it produces, but because it is a very 
excellent conductor of heat, its power of con¬ 
ducting being 2J£ times that of iron. Hence 
it gets hot much more readily; aud imparts 
its heat much more quickly and there¬ 
fore more intensely —e. m ]—So iu despera¬ 
tion I sent down town for some putty, think¬ 
ing I would try that plan, but not a bit cou'.d 
begot, so my leaky tins are put on the top- 
shelf until a traveling tinker comes aloug, 
which will uot be until pleasant weather 
comes again. 
“Flowers iu the kitchen," of course; if you 
have there a sunny window fill it "with them. 
The steam of the cooking gives them a moist 
air which makes them grow better, while 
their beauty gives the woiker there some¬ 
thing beyoni “pots and kettles” to think 
of,—at least, 1 find it. so. My shelf of flowers 
there is a joy to me, and each time I stop to 
look at them 1 liud, or fancy I find, something 
new in them. Ail my house plants look very- 
thrifty; but have uot bloomed nearly as 
freely this season as usual 
The article iu the youug folks' department 
of February 14, entitled “Winter’s Jewels,” 
was very interesting. I don’t kuow that 1 
have ever noticed a similar display in Winter; 
but since we have lived iu the country, 1 have 
stood entranced on many a bright Spring 
morning, as the sun shone on the dew-laden 
grass. Gems of every hue and color shone 
out, aud changed with each new position 1 
assumed. One must be blind, indeed, to fail 
to notice beauties in nature at any and all 
seasons of the year 
Some may ask what has nature and its 
beauties got to do with Domestic Economy ? 
Well, to me it is as restful as play to a child 
who has worked or studied too hard. Often 
in fair weather 1 will leave my work for a 
few moments, and run out into the yard, per¬ 
haps visit my 7 flower-beds, or look to see how 
the vegetables are coming on, or wander to 
the end of our garden, where it slopes to the 
river, and standing under the great trees, 
look on the beautiful scenery I find there; 
then retrace my steps, go at my r work again, 
feeling wonderfully refreshed, aud ready to 
work all the faster for my little play-spell. 
Try it, tired ones, and see if it will not rest 
yOU tOO. AUNT EM. 
KENTUCKY CORN BREAD. 
In recipes for the various corn breads sugar 
is usually mentioned as an iugredient. Here 
in Kentucky, the home of "corn crackers," 
we uever use sugar in making our bread of 
meal, neither do we use the yellow corn, the 
general opinion being that it is good to fatten 
stock, but wretched food for human-kind. 
We use white corn, and it is better ivheu 
ground coarse. Tastes differ as to how corn 
bread should be made, there being half a 
dozen ways of making the "hoe cake." Some 
declare “muffins” arc the best; others thin 
batter-cakes; while others like the old fashion¬ 
ed “pone”—"Presbyterian bread,” 
Recently I met a gentleman who had 
just married after enjoying 58 years of 
siogle-blessedness. His wife had been a 
maiden lady living iu Northern New York. 
She asked, in anxiety, if I “knew Low to 
make hoe-cake.” “Obi yes,” 1 answered. 
"Then,” said she, “tell me all about it.” The 
bridegroom sat smiling at her ignorance, 
while I gave directions: 
Take auy quantity of meal—just for him 
half-a-pint (she will never be converted from 
her brain food of oatmeal to eat his homely 
hoe-cake). To the half-pint of meal add a 
pinch of salt, and wet with cold water—just 
enough to get all the meal into a smooth, stiff 
mass. The success of this cake depends all 
upon the baking. Have your griddle at a 
well-tempered heat, sprinkle ou a little meal, 
or if not opposed to grease—few Kentuckians 
are—grease well, wet your hands, take up 
half the dough, roll quickly from one hand to 
another, uutil smooth, then drop on the 
griddle, flatten out thiu with your hand, let 
cook until dry on the upjier side, then loosen 
and turn with a knife. There is art in the 
cooking, aud our negro cooks understood it. 
I have often heard them assert that “white 
women can’t make corn bread,” but since 
relieved from “colored bondage" the contrary 
has been proved. 
During “the war,” when flour could not be 
had, the Southern ludies made pound cake out 
PtecrtlanfoujJ guU\crti;Sitt0» 
The worst features 
about dangerous 
soaps is the damage 
done before their in¬ 
jurious effects are de¬ 
tected. The injury- 
done to clothing by 
the use of poor soap 
is often greater than 
the actual wear. 
Professor Cornwall, 
of Princeton College, 
says, the Ivory Soap 
is pure. His state¬ 
ment should be suffi¬ 
cient guarantee lor 
you to have only the 
Ivory Soap used in 
your family. 
