?©0 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER 
©ST it 
matter. There is considerable prospecting 
being done all the time in Alaska, but all 
enterprises are attended with great expense. 
A very fine quality of marble was found a 
short time ago, and the finders thought they 
had struck a mine of wealth, but upon exam¬ 
ination it was found to be in fragments, and 
so broken by earth quake shocks, or the action 
of water, as to be not worth quarrying. 
A great deal has been written about Alaska 
and her resources, and a great deal of It has 
been untrue, and I might as well say here, 
once for all, for the benefit of such readers as 
have written to the Governor, or other of¬ 
ficials, for information concerning the agri¬ 
cultural, grazing, mining and industrial 
resources of the Territory, that you might 
almost as well go to the moon—at 
least for 250 years to come—or until the 
United States are planted thick with people 
from ocean to ocean. It is very generally 
knowu, I suppose, that the entire southeastern 
Alaskan coast, including the Aleutian Isles, 
has a climate tempered by what is commonly 
called the Japan current, and the weather is 
only a little colder than in Western Washing¬ 
ton—the mercury almost never falling to 
zero in the coldest Winters, so that in Winter 
it is no colder at Sitka than in Washington, 
D. C., while the summer weather is delightful. 
But back from the coast, the cold in Winter 
is intense, and in a large part of the Territory, 
it i9 altogether probable that the ground, a 
few inches below the surface, never thaws. 
There are no markete, no industries beyond 
what belong to the Indiana, practically no 
grazing grom.d, and no agricultural land. 
The Territory i* undeveloped, and must re¬ 
main so for many years. Back from the 
coast, it Is extremely mountainous and covered 
with a jungle of vegetation. The timber- 
spruce and cedar chiefly—is far inferior to 
that of Washington Territory; bnt it will be 
valuable when the better forests of the United 
States are exhausted. Now and then one 
come9 upon a large tree in the forest eight to 
ten feet in diameter, but such a tree is rare. 
TbetreeB branch low. and fche wood is knotty 
and resinous as a rule. The Yellow Cedar is 
very beautiful when free from knots and im¬ 
perfections, and l have seen some very pretty 
furniture made of it. I gave an Indian wood 
carver an order to cut a salad set for me from 
this cedar, and he executed the design to per¬ 
fection, finishing the large fork and spoon 
with a stork at the top. I have heard of a few 
acres of cleared ground a few miles from 
Sitka, on which hay has been cured. Grass 
grows abundantly and very rank in gome 
places. In sunny spots; and White Clover is 
indigeuous; but it is difficult to cure hay on 
account of the frequent rainfalls. The soil is 
disintegrated rock, but certain vegeta hies can 
be raised to advantage in the gardens—beets, 
cabbage, potatoes—good in a dry season— 
caul ill ower, peas—ready to eat iu August— 
radishes, lettuce, onions, turnip*; and I have 
been informed that at one point in Alaska, 
oats have been raised. Cabbages bring 25 
cents a head, and a SItk&n boy told me of one 
that weighed 27 pounds. If the people were 
sufficiently energetic they might raise, geuer- 
ally, sufficient garden produce to supply their 
needs, which now they are very far from 
achieving. Cui rants, gooseberries and rhu- 
bard grow well, especially the former. 
Salmon-berries grow everywhere in profusion. 
When stewed they ta»te precisely like stewed 
raspberries. There is an abundance also of 
blueberries and huckleberries. The latter are 
very small, but of very fine flavor; and with 
the exception of fish, form, so far as I have 
been able to learn, the only article of food 
exported. 
I endeavored to ascertain the quantity of 
cranberries exported last year. (Vie trader 
said 200 tarrels were sent; another said he 
had sent 55 barrels, which were about all that 
were exported; the Collector of customs con¬ 
cluded that 50 barrels were the aggregate 
from Sitka. The crauberries are put in water 
and are so kept during the entire Winter. 
They grow on tiny shrubs not longer than 
one’s hand, succeeding a raceme of flowers— 
pinkish bells, hung like those of the Lily of 
the Valley, but larger. In my wandering!-' in 
many directions about Sitka, I found hut one 
strawberry blossom; but the laddie saw au 
Indian oue day with a bowl half full of small 
strawberries, and I have heard the Sitkau 
boys talk of a place where they grow. Eider 
(Sa i bucus Douglassii), grows abundantly; 
I do not kuow that the people use the fruit, 
which is scarlet when ripe, and extremely 
ornamental. The only fruit-tree in Sitka— 
excepting the wild crab apple—stands in the 
garden of the cottage we occupied, and an old 
Slavonian told me that it was planted eight 
or nine years ago, that about four years ago, 
the owner took off the top soil and put hen 
manure ou the roots, and for two years after¬ 
wards, the tree scarcely bore a leaf. However, 
it recovered from that idiotic treatment, aud 
is now well covered with leaves, but has a 
decrepid appearance. I have been told that 
some blackberries grow in certain places, but 
I have seen none, and I have found wild roses 
growing nowhere but in Sitkan gardens. 
Chickens are raised in Sitka—not enough to 
supply the home market with eggs—and eggs, 
when cheapest, cost 50 cent* per dozen. There 
are also some hogs browsing about, certainly 
never corn fed. There are quite a number of 
cows, aud milk for the first time iu the history 
of the Territory, has been sold during the last 
three months for 10 cents per quart. There 
are no horses iu Sitka and but one mule, 
which when brought here was regarded by the 
Indiaus aB a wonder. There are a number of 
goats, probably kept for their milk. This 
enumeration, including fish and game— 
chiefly venison—constitutes the native food 
supply for whites, the Indians eating various 
things that have not yet entered into the 
groceries of civilization. Granulated sugar 
costs here from 17 to 20 cents a pound—un¬ 
necessarily dear, it would seem. Flour sells— 
a 50-pound sack for $1.75, and beef and mutton, 
when brought by the steamer, command 
from 25 to 30 cents. But let us return to the 
picnic. 
During this mountain climb I found a tall 
aater varying from pale purple to pink, and a 
pretty and altogether new flower to me, large, 
blue, and in shape like a violet, set in a 
clump of long, light-green leaves. The sailors 
and waiters from the “Idaho” spread our 
luncheon on the grass in a sunny cove, and 
when all were seated, Lieutenant Barnett 
photographed the party, having brought a 
camera for the purpose. We returned to the 
“Idaho” at five o’clock, and after dinner on 
board,we sent our luggage to our hired house, 
it being token thither in a new lumber 
wagon drawn by a dozen Indian boys from 
the Presbyterian Mission—a comical, prirni 
tive sight which I often saw during our 
month in Bitka. We followed the wagon a 
half hour later, and soou had our house in 
order. A party of 15 to 20 of our fellow 
passengers came from the steamer to visit our 
camp, some expressing envy at our good for¬ 
tune^ others predicting that we would find the 
time intolerably long, while still others won¬ 
dered what we could get to eat, and thought 
the idea of stopping a month in Alaska a very 
strange and unaccountable onel 1 somewhat 
relieved the minds of the latter by saying 
that we bad brought with us a month’s supply 
of provisions—such as were not perishable— 
and that our supplies included bedding, towels, 
table silver, some crockery and napery, that 
our material wants were amply provided for, 
and that I, at least, anticipated a month of 
delightful and novel experiences—an anticlpa 
tion most fully and charmingly realized. 
for XUonutt. 
CONDUCTED BY MISL RAY CLARK. 
TO MOTHERS. 
Ur and down our fair land are many new 
made homes filled with comfort and cheer 
for their iumates and for all who may desire 
to share their hospitality. Neatness and 
beauty aud many evidences of taste and cul 
ture characterize these dwelliugs within and 
without. 
The o<d farm house which 25 years ago 
contained only bare necessities, and 50 years 
ago, should it have stood so long, was void of 
beauty or comfort now is made over by the 
young people just commencing life together, 
not, to be sure, as their fathers and mothers 
did, for the world has been marching on these 
25 years. Men have not labored with brain 
aud hand in vain, but men aud women of the 
present reap from the past a rich harvest. 
These homes without great care-toklug or 
labor are supplied with much that is orna¬ 
mental together with all the useful appliances 
of the present day. What has required mauy 
years of effort; the daily press, the steam car, 
the utility of electricity, the telephone, music¬ 
al instruments of cuuning device, machinery, 
which would have been too intricate for our 
forefathers, the rising generation use and 
enjoy without the expense or effort which oue 
of our smaller inventions, the sewing marhiue, 
cost our grand-mothers in time aud labor. 
In view of all this rich legacy young people 
do not begin where their fathers and mothers 
began. The table which is now the common 
fare in its deooratious aud dainty viands be¬ 
long ouly to the rich of the land 100 years ago. 
The young hostess of to day is found pos¬ 
sessed not only of these material gifts; but 
better still she is more at ease, more self- 
possessed than those who have gone before 
her could be, for she has a sense of ownership 
of much that is truly valuable; Bhe reads, she 
possibly writes, she knows of and has con¬ 
versed with greater minds than her own; but 
this latter does not discourage her, ou the 
coutrary, she realizes she is able to appreciate 
greatness wherever found either among men 
or books. 
Fifty years ago there was too often for 
women too hard, too continuous toil with the 
hands. Then books and papers were fewer. 
The toil for daily bread both for father aud 
mother tended to make life a tread-mill which 
they were often obliged to lead to feed and 
clothe themselves and their growing children. 
Older mothers of to-day kuow what bard 
continuous toil means. They have seen it in 
their early days and Bhared it with their 
brothers. Perhaps in consequence of this 
have allowed tbeir children too much freedom. 
This is not true of the majority, however, it 
may be said that the youth of the present gen¬ 
eration are growing up in idleness. These 
Musicians who love on the key board to thrum. 
Musicians of color, tho banjo who strum. 
Musicians with baton, musical with pen, 
How shall we class all these musical men?" 
Music is said to a kind of language and as 
such it possesses the advantage over poetry 
which a universal language has over a parti¬ 
cular one for this speaks only to its own age 
and country; the other speaks to ail ages and 
countries. It is not absurd to suppose that a 
body may be mechanically affected by sound. 
If tho floor of a church, the chandelier or 
other objects vibrate at the sound of an organ 
may we not suppose that the finer fibres of the 
hurnau frame may be put in a tremulous mo¬ 
tion when they happen to be iu unison with 
any notes of sympathy with them?—we may 
interpret music, if we appreciate it at 
all, iu a manner corresponding to our 
own feelings. If agitated by turbulent 
passions, we find it impossible to con vert 
smooth and delicate music into a lan¬ 
guage iu unison with our irritated 
feelings, and if under softening influ¬ 
ences of some tender attachment or of 
sorrow for the lo6s of a loved one, 
we are unable to appreciate bold aud 
brilliant Bounds. 
•'The birds Instructed man 
And taught him songs bpfore his Brt began 
And while soft, evening gales blew over tbe 
plains. 
And Bbook the souudlng reeds; they taught 
the swains. 
And thus the pipe was framed and tuneful 
reed.,* 
homes with which all are acquainted, fitted 
up but a day ago found their new young mis- 
trees, equal in a short time to their complete 
management so far as house keeping is con¬ 
cerned. We believe the older mothers of to¬ 
day have trained their daughters to be as 
useful in their homes as they tbomselves have 
been. Moreover young women of to-day 
thank their mothers for tbe high aims of life 
whose seeds have been plauted In their souls 
and which will in time bring forth far richer 
fruit than manual labor alone, however well 
taught and pursued can bring. 
We deaire to lmpreas upon mothers the need 
they should feel to give to their daughters 
worthy character. The American people 
live too fast. Life’s course is often too quickly 
run, and when men aud women should be 
strongest, aud with full armor ou they fall. 
They die at 50 and GO, and earlier than 40, be¬ 
cause they have speBt their vital force; brains 
have been over-wrought, uerves have been all 
unstrung. Strong physical frames have suc¬ 
cumbed. The first—and by no means the 
least—valuable legacy a mother can bequeath 
her child, is a strong physical body. A strong 
mind in a stroug body is as true as it is a trite 
saying. Watched over aud carefully tended 
in infancy the mother takes great care to 
give her baby fresh air, a proper amount of 
sleep, loose warm clothing; she is careful 
about diet aud hurtful exposures of whatever 
nature, are guarded agaiust. When should 
this diligent attention cease? Surely uo less 
care is necessary when the daughter assumes 
control of herself. It giveB occasion for rejoic¬ 
ing that mothers can now find time to give 
thought to the important matter of healthful 
dress and food, and can learn the importance 
of bathing and exercUe, and much sleep for 
their boys and girls. 
Marion Harland’s book,“Eve’s Daughters,”is 
full of good suggestions on this point of secur¬ 
ing health for girls. She advocates such 
clothing as can insure the romping sports of 
their brothers. She wants the girl’s frame 
developed by just tbe plays which give 
strength and muscle to the boy’s arm, and 
make him swift to run. In fact the exercises 
which make him the buoyant boy he is, would 
cure cold feet, sick headache, sleeplessness and 
the many untold evils to girls arising from 
improper dress, inactivity and high-seasoned 
cookery. 
Mothers do well w ho keep their boys and 
girls as such, and do not hurry to make them 
older. If they have grown with the birds and 
flowers, been taught well the lessons of nature, 
the love of God and man, the great calls upon 
all to be useful, not burdened with the weighty 
cares aud thoughts of every day living, chil¬ 
dren will develop more slowly, and will in 
consequence be stronger men and women, and 
will not, as many examples prove, break down 
young. M. w, w. 
-- « ♦ 
MUSIC. 
"East or West wherever you go, 
Whether to latitudes high or low; 
Tropical heats or Arctic snow, 
Where bare rocks rise, where palm trees grow. 
Whore black swamps sweep, where torrents flow. 
On the banks of the Neva, the Nile aud the Po, 
The Hudson, the Thames, the Hoang Ho. 
In Thibet, Peru, and In Ohio. 
Ill Mecca. Kahln, aud Toklo, 
In Boston, Moscow, uud Cairo. 
Wherever there's land. 
The question is often asked what is the 
difference between the science and art of 
music. Tbe science of music is knowing why 
it is done—the art is knowing how to do it. 
A man may know that certain contractions of 
the muscles of the throat produce a particular 
note, and that a combination of these notes 
produce harmony, but yet be unable to sing. 
He may lie a scientific musician and not be 
able to produce a note, On the other hand a 
person who knows nothing of the theory of 
souud, who cannot tell why or perhaps even 
how he does it,may nevertheless be a thorough 
artist and produce the most beautiful soul 
stirring music. 
Hence it argues nothing, either for or 
against a teacher of music: whether he or she 
can perform, or sing well or not. 
A scientific musician, all things considered, 
is perhaps a better teacher than the artistic 
one. The first knows how the melodious 
sounds are produced and can tell auotherhow 
to produce them, the latter can produce 
them readily, but may not be able to t :1 
how or why. But a musician, either the 
teacher or the artist must have a highly de¬ 
veloped emotional nature, must not only 
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Y mi'll flnd music tuns at your oommund. 
Muslolaus who tickle the string* with a bow, 
Musicians tha brass sad wood who blow. 
Musicians.for cymbal* and both.sort* of drum. 
Free of charge. A full size cake of Ivory Roap 
will be sent to any one who can not get it of their 
grocer, If six two-cent stamps, to pay postage, arc 
sent to Procter & Gamble, t'ir 'nuti. Please 
mention his paper. 
