216 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
toi' Women. 
CONDUCTED BY MISC RAY CLARK. 
A WOMAN OF THE TIMES. 
BERTHA A. ZEDI WINKLER. 
PART n. 
Days succeeded each other in which love’s 
delightful drama was enacted under the gaze 
of heaven’s starry audience, with an earnest¬ 
ness which almost made it real. For love, 
whether true or false, to be successful, shows 
the same passionate sincerity, and blind disre¬ 
gard for everything beyond its object of 
gain. If a dainty graduate could stick bis 
broadcloth covered knees, like two umbrella 
sticks, into the mud in contemplative adora¬ 
tion, aud vow himself into the heavenly bliss 
of her eyes, till be was hoarse, it was surely a 
good imitation of Romeo’s frenzy. And if an 
industrious, systematic farmer’s girl sweetly 
admits that she is listening to sweeter sounds 
than cow-bells, and loiters with him past milk¬ 
time and chickens’-roost. it is also a good re¬ 
presentation of a rural Juliet, That he would 
profess everything, and she believe all, fol¬ 
lowed as a matter of course. And that he 
must be rewarded with various demonstrative 
endearments, and she with eloquent plans and 
prospects for the future, was the last thing 
needful to prove their mutual sincerity. 
My country heroine, with a woman’s provi¬ 
dence, even suggested that he should begin to 
interest himself in farm life—learn to plow, 
etc.—and clipped her meaning close by addiDg 
that, among her class of women, graduated 
brains were not half so much in demand as 
educated farmers. 
Of course Harry Glendale, like all such lov¬ 
ers, said “Yes” to everything, and love contin¬ 
ued to shower promises, until one day she 
startled him with the question, “If he would 
not rather marry a rich girl—an heiress, for 
instance?” 
“Would I ever be idiot enough to?” he asked 
as quickly, conscious that nothing so allays 
suspicion as prompt impossibility. 
“I don’t think it requires a great deal of 
idiocy to marry a woman of fortune.” 
“Yes, when you can get one of beauty and 
sense.” 
“She may have both.” 
“But she hasn’t.” 
“How do you know?” 
“Because 1 never saw a beautiful heiress; 
they are all ugly and angular. As for their 
sense, if they had any, they would stay single. 
The man who marries a woman for love only, 
when she has money, is as scarce as the man 
who doesn’t contrive to get the best share of the 
last when he has the first.” 
Having delivered himself of this burden of 
wisdom, he considered his reassuring smile 
sufficient to dispel remaining doubts. Envel¬ 
oped in his own all-sufficient consciousness of 
superiority, it never entered hismiud that this 
simple, country girl could have thoughts and 
claims of her own; or. that they should be at 
variance with his wishes and opinions. 
So when she timidly suggested that, to dis¬ 
pel all her fears, he ought to take her to his 
father’s aud announce their engagement at 
once, he laughed at the proposition as more 
naively novel than reasonable. The idea of 
presenting his father with a prospective 
daughter-in-law from the country when he 
had an heiress in reserve, was not to lie thought 
of without a painful sensation of boot-heels on 
his back. 
But when be saw the flash of her eyes, aud 
heard her declare, emphatically, that when 
she shipped the next order of butter and eggs 
to banker Glendale, her lover must either ac¬ 
company her there as affianced husband or 
else sbe must enforce the immediate payment 
of all her dues from the old gentleman, the 
citv lover meditated, between a laugh and a 
frown, whether to pay his father’s debt of but¬ 
ter and eggs at once, and thus render her 
more pliable under this new pr >of of wealth, 
or leave the scene of high hopes and baffling 
arrogance in disgust. 
Jingling the silver coin in his pocket, and 
the faiutest trace of disdain, which sweet sim¬ 
plicity might take for an affable smile, blazing 
around his lips, he said at length: 
“And how much, you fair, cruel Sbyloek, 
would release my unfortunate father Antonia?” 
He did not suppose that sbe knew anything 
about Shakespeare. But figurative speech, if 
not quite fittiug. would impress her with a 
sense of his mastery aud ease and completely 
shame her burst of spirit. 
But lie reckoned without his host for she 
replied promptly with a smile as playful as 
his, “A pound of flesh nearest to his heart.” 
“Which is his son, eh? So I’m the forfeit¬ 
ure! beautiful! original! just like you,ha! ha!” 
But the laugh sounded forced, and cutting. 
And the young girl’s attitude of playful, spir¬ 
ited argument, changed to one of timid appeal 
as if conscious of overstepping her limits and 
apprehensive of its results. 
“Yon will leave me mw and will never 
come back,” she almost sobbed. 
“Never! bah! if you don’t hear from me in 
a week or so, you may call on my father for 
your dues. But you will—you will hear from 
me, even if it should be in the grip of an heir¬ 
ess. Ha! ha! 80 then,dearest,nu/ iveiderschen. 1 ' 
With a gentle laugh, he took her hand from 
his arm, kissed it, waved his hat and departed, 
wiser, but by no means better than when he 
first gained her heart to break it as the last 
toy of his playful years. He had fouud with 
rural simplicity, an amount of simple shrewd¬ 
ness which, without seeming to, had quite 
baffled the designs of even bis graduated brain, 
To be sure, it was ridiculously clumsy. Just 
what one might expect of unsophisticated 
originality, this idei of tying the romantic 
flights of a love episode to reality with a debt 
of butter and eggs. But it was effective, like 
all square dowm-rightness is with unsound 
characters. His hunted adventure no sooner 
showed teeth of unpleasant promise, than he 
resolved to get away from it with as little in¬ 
convenience to himself as possible. 
If his deserted wild rose had any feelings in 
the matter, they ought to be feeliDgsof thank¬ 
fulness that her dream ended more swift than 
ruinous. Surely be, who had idled away 
precious time, and hazarded the affections and 
coffers of an heiress vainly, had more cause 
to be aggrieved than a country girl, whose am¬ 
bition deserved to be crushed when it went 
beyond her station to reach for a rising young 
man of the world. 
Thus, Harry Glendale went home by the 
early morning train, deadening his little con¬ 
science with that subtle force of reasoniug 
which lawyers employ to convinceeven guilty 
clients of some innocence; until, being in¬ 
formed by his angry father that if he did not 
make quick and successful courtship with bis 
ward, who was coming this very morning to 
urge the repeatedl v demanded settlement of her 
father’s estate, $175,00(1 would go out of their 
control, aud in the present critical situation 
completely ruin them, he felt himself not 
only perfectly justified, but iuoliaed to turn 
accuser on his own unsuccessful folly, and 
her who dared feed it. 
Home Decorating. 
Domestic Ccono mi) 
conducted by emii-y maple. 
A FARMER’S DAUGHTER’S DOMESTIC 
REVERIES. 
CHARITY SWEETHEART. 
The Rural seeds have come, and I appro¬ 
priate the Garden Treasures myself, and have 
all faith that they will give me something 
choice. It is a comfort to have a garden to 
look forward to, if it isouly a little border or 
two along side of the carrots. But I shall try 
to have some beds all flowers this year. I like 
those that have perfume, and find their fra¬ 
grance holds a place In the memory, before 
that of showy Bcentlessthings. For wearing, 
give me pansies, dark and large, as they are 
in the pictures of the catalogues, though mine 
are nearly allsuiall. and weeall them “Johnny 
Jump ups.” 
There has been a regular epidemic of colds 
amoug tiie people here, aud we have not es¬ 
caped. Burt tried every kind of remedy that 
people presenhed; but 1 found the best thing 
was to boil a lemon for a quarter of an hour, 
or bake it, which was better; then press the 
pulp into some honey, removing the pips, and 
stirring well. A teaspoouful taken frequently 
is very soothing for the tickling in the throat, 
that often goes with a bad cold. The pulp of 
a cold baked apple often answers the same 
purpose. 
I am so glad Spring is coming, though it 
does bring extra work with it; but I am too 
busy to think so much of my little trials, and 
so I just go right along, and a great many 
difficulties vanish. 1 really think the garden 
helps me, for I enjoy even my little plots. 
Sometimes when I see choice things growing 
in other people’s flower beds, I feel a little bit 
envious; but this feeling doesn’t last long, and 
so I try to make my Geraniums go as far as 
possible in brightness if not in quantity, lift¬ 
ing them out of the old boxes and planting 
them in the fresh earth, where they will bloom 
anew. I have only Scarlet Runners and 
Moruiug Glories to twine around the porch, 
but 1 intend to put some of the seeds in a box 
in the kitchen windows soon, aud they will 
be ready to put out when the days get warm. 
An old box that is of no value, but can be 
broken up when they are moved, is the best. 
I took a fine day last week to make soap, 
aud like many other things in this world, it 
did not turn out all that I expected; for it was 
neither real hard nor real soft soap. It wasn’t 
much, but I felt quite disgusted. I don’t like 
half and half of anything, be it love or friend¬ 
ship, study or housekeeping, or soap. Yet, I 
really don’t know where the fault lay. I in¬ 
tend to leave it in the tub, and have put an 
old window sash over it to see if that is any 
use. I have been successful in setting jelly 
sometimes by putting a pane of glass over it. 
NOTES AND COMMENTS. 
Something last week on “Failures” set me 
thinking that it is in many cases the failure 
to carefully follow directions and recipes 
that gives unsatisfactory results, or it may be 
they are not fully understood. I felt respons¬ 
ible, in a measure, for the success of one I sent 
sometime ago, iu the interest of economical 
and thoroughly neat housekeepers, who ue’er 
give o’er the battle with insects—roaches, aud 
bedbugs—if refined ears can bear to hear men¬ 
tion made of such pests. I proved, after 
repeated trials, that the recipe would do all 
I claimed for it, but thoroughness was neces¬ 
sary. A gentleman building a fine house, 
lately said to a druggist: “I would give $500 
to know how to keep out bedbugs.” “Don’t 
take auy into it,” I said; “but fumigate every 
part of the old house before you remove an 
article from it to the new.” A pretty sum 
it would take from the profits of drug stores 
to say, burn brimstone in your rooms. It is 
more effectual than a ton of insect powders— 
Pyretbrum or Persian insect exterminators, 
or whatever name these may be sold under. 
They are chiefly useful to put money into 
the pockets of those who compound aud sell 
them, and to those who buy them, they prove 
a snare and delusion. Go through the house, 
one room at a time, closing doors and win¬ 
dows, making it air-tight as nearly as possible; 
then place iu the center of the room a pan 
of live coals or a furnace, if you have a small 
one. Break up a pound or more of sticks of 
brimstone, throw it upon the hot coals, retreat 
rapidly and close the door. Care must, of 
course, be taken to place the coals upon zinc 
or an iron ketile that there may be no danger 
of burning the floor. Watch, if you can, 
from the closed window to see if the smoke ia 
of sufficient strength to cause flies to drop 
from the ceiling. 1/ there are no flies to give 
this proof, use the brimstone more freely— 
two pounds to a large room—that it may lie 
very strong, and leave the room closed an 
hour or two. Be very careful to open a 
door or window at the expiration of this 
time, and let the fumes pass out before any¬ 
one enters. The air must, of course, be 
unbreathable for human lungs in order to 
exterminate the enemy. Brimstone costs 
but a trifle and kills the enemy, and the odor 
though not agreeable is healthful. Sul¬ 
phur, referred to in a late Rural, is not 
strong enough; crude brimstone is needed. 
Remove gilt frames, books aud dainty articles, 
for they would become tarnished. The odor 
soon passes away. cora. 
HELPING ONE ANOTHER. 
Ik there is one reason above another why I 
prize the Rural, it is tor the help I gain by 
comparing notes with the sisters. Each week 
some little clog in the domestic machinery is 
taken away, and I lay the paper down with 
the thought: “Well, others have to plan and 
And out the best methods of housework as well 
as mystdf.” In close contact with the Divine 
injunction, “Love one another," comes the 
equally imixirtaut message, “Help one an¬ 
other.” Could we but cost one bright ray of 
comfort into many a dreary home, how much 
better it would lie than to spend our time iu 
idle chat or unnecessary fussing. 
Life seems so short—too short—to spend in 
trying to wage warfare with dust aud dirt, 
and yet so much home happiness depends on 
cleanliness. It is well to keep one’s mind 
occupi ed with noble thoughts while the busy 
bands and feet perform their labor. 
Let us then: 
“Build a little fanes of trust 
Around to-day. 
Fill the plum with loving work, 
And therein stay. 
Look not thro’ Its sheltering bars 
Upon to morrow 
God will help thee bear what comes 
Of Joy or sorrow." was. j. e. eaton. 
HOUSEHOLD HINTS. 
I have tried the potato-ball yeast with 
good success; it not only makes nice light 
bread, but is economical in the way of dry 
yeast, as it takes so little to start it, and that 
is quite an item with those who make their 
own yeast. I took the recipe from the 
“Housekeeper.” It is as follows: “Boil and 
mash two or three medium-sized potatoes, add 
to them one teaspoouful of salt aud two of 
sugar, with a small cake of dry yeast soaked 
in warm water, stir all together, and set in a 
warm place lor two days; then make a sponge 
of warm water and flour, adding two-thirds of 
the potato mixture. Mix more potatoes, sugar 
and salt with the remainder, and set away till 
next baking day.” 
My baby’s white flannel shirts having be¬ 
come dingy from many washings, I dyed them 
in clear suds in which red flannel had been al¬ 
lowed to remain for a sh rt time, which gave 
them a pretty rose tiut; and as a lady whom I 
have lately visited, and who is very tasty in 
matters of dress, asked if they had ever been 
washed, I was well pleased with my success. 
Save all the bright scraps of flannel, cloth, 
and velvet; they will make beautiful ebair 
cushions. I have one in progress, which I 
am piecing in crazy patch-work, which prom¬ 
ises to be very pretty as well as substantial; 
using the above-named material on a calico 
lining, whipped down with red cotton floss. 
I had long felt the need of something in the 
way of a foot-stool, which the children could 
not break into pieces in a day. This I found 
in four empty tin emus, tied firmly together, 
and covered with carpet. 
Will some one tell me how to wash my red 
Canton flannel window curtains, without fad¬ 
ing? MARY L. HINDS. 
MARCH WORK. 
As March in our climate is characterized by 
bigb wind and unpleasant weather in every 
respect, we never visit much or expect much 
company in this month; so we dispose of our 
carpet rags, disagreeable work I call it in 
everv respect. With our economical habits, 
we have very few garments fit for carpet 
rags, that we do not want for something else; 
but when the carpet becomes very shabby it 
must be replaced. I take the best out of all 
$U.$.cfnaumtjS gUwrtisIttfl. 
“A direct, practical 
“experiment in a laun¬ 
dry has proved to 
“me that the** Ivory,” 
“ tested auainst a cer- 
\ * 
“tain well-known 
“brand of 1 a u n dry 
“soap, has the same 
“ amount of cleansing 
“power and one and 
“ two-thirds the la st¬ 
ring capacity. That 
“is, the Ivo ry Soap 
“ will do one and two- 
“ thirds times the work 
“of the soap against 
“which it was tested. 
“ I therefore consider 
“the Ivory a very 
“good laundry soap.” 
JOHN W. LANGLEY, 
Professor of Chemistry t 
University of Michigan • 
Tree of charge. A full size cake of Ivory Heap will tie 
sent lo any one who can not get It of tlielr grocer, If 
nix two cent stamps, to pay postage, are sent to Procter 
& Gamble. Cincinnati. Please mention this paper. 
