FEB 12 
440 
to the excessive use of tea, but an English 
medical authority goes further, and gives a 
case of acute delirium tremens produced by 
this herb, the victim being a young girl. 
One of the most aesthetic fabrics for decora¬ 
tions, and nrtistie costumes, too, is the 
shadow silk, designed by Miss Dora Wheeler. 
It has a shadowy pattern in subdued hue, 
hinted rather than expressed, like a misty 
shadow over the bolder coloring. A very 
charming balsam pillow of this fabric was.a 
rich red, with a shadowy design of hop leaves 
in that indescribable hue formerly called 
“London smoke.” 
FLORA A-FIELD. 
* Of all the innumerable ologies to which we 
women may devote ourselves, the brightest 
and most pleasant, is the science of field and 
garden. The woman who, as Mr. Squeers 
says, learns that “bottinney” means a knowl¬ 
edge of plants, and then goes out and knows 
them, has a resource against ennui anywhere, 
sa ve ju the desert of Sahara. 
And it is a science, too, requiring no very 
costly appliances. With a single text-book 
any intelligent person may obtain an abund¬ 
ance of practical knowledge. Of course we 
do not mean to say that the student may stop 
at one text-book. Doctors disagree and bot¬ 
anists do likewise; if you take up any special 
branch of the science, with the iutentuess of 
an expert, you must, of course, have abundant 
references. 
But for a knowledge of orders and genera, 
and for field botany throughout the greater 
part of the United States, one standard work 
will be sufficient, and for this we should re¬ 
commend Prof. Asa Gray’s Manual of Botany. 
This will teach you to analyze the floral 
strangers of field and forest, and gives clear 
and copious descriptions. Another excellent, 
work is “Native Flowers and Ferns of the 
United States,” by Prof. Thomas Meehan. 
This is illustrated with exquisite colored 
plates, while the letter press, apart from its 
accuracy and research, is most charming from 
a literary standpoint. This book is. of course, 
comparativsly expensive. 
Taking Prof. Gray as a guide, philosopher, 
and friend, what happy hours we may spend 
afield! Every step gives ns something to no¬ 
tice ntid admire. There is one point about 
Flora’s domain that, seeius “ Caviare to the 
general.” We refer to botanical names. How 
ranch derision is cast upon Polypodium or 
Antburium and all their polysyllabic compan¬ 
ions! But anyone who notices the way the 
Polypodium clings and spreads will see why 
the botanist gave it a name meaning “many 
feet,” and first sight, of the Antburium will 
persuade the beholder that it is indeed a 
“flower with a tail,” as its name implies. 
Then, apart from its descriptiveness we 
must recognize i,lie fact that scientific names 
are the same in all languages, whereas popu¬ 
lar names differ not only in different, coun¬ 
tries, but. also in different localities of the 
same country. For example, the name 
honeysuckle is applied in New Jersey to the 
white azalea, and also to the Columbine, 
though equally inappropriate in either case. 
So, without knowing the scientific designation, 
one may very often be at a loss in such mat¬ 
ters. 
In the winter, when other forms of vegeta¬ 
ble life are dormant, the botanist finds a fine 
field for investigation among mouses and lich¬ 
ens, only, unfortunately, in this direction 
without a microscope. The “Mosses of North 
America," by Lesquereaux and James, is an 
excellent, text-book. An old edition of Gray’s 
“Manual”—that of 1852—contains an excel¬ 
lent appendix on mosses, uot found in later 
editions, but this is now scarce. 
Altogether, Madame Flora is a very accom¬ 
odating goddess, and her kingdom offers the 
best asylum in the world for nervous women 
seeking some outlet. It is pastime and men¬ 
tal discipline together, and field or garden of¬ 
fer a living library to those who read them 
knowingly. 
HELPFUL CHILDREN. 
I too, like “Patty Carton,” am a farmer’s 
daughter, or rather I was, many years ago, 
for I am quite an old lady now, and the dear 
little farm is no longer a furni, but being in 
the city “limits,” its beauty of landscape is 
marred by those dreadful signs, “Lots and 
Villa Plots For Bale,” which give to the pret¬ 
tiest bit of country all the desolateness without 
any of the sacredness of a graveyard. I think as 
I look back upon it that my country life 
must have been very different from that of 
most farmers’ daughters. 1 could break 
crockery with any one of them all—in fact, 
that, trait of my childhood 1ms cluug to me 
with surprising pertinacity, and if I have one 
accomplishment to-duy, it is the case and 
grace with which 1 can break a piece of china. 
Whether it was that 1 was a costly assistant, 
or not I do not know, but I was seldom called 
upon to perform any household task. I may 
say without conceit that I was naturally an 
industrious child, and never grumbled at any 
task, even when it consisted in weeding the 
onion beds, although that was the b<1te noir of 
my childhood. The quack grass was so tena¬ 
cious of its foothold, and thepursloy always 
seemed to me like some horrid, fat worm. 
Whenever I offered to help in any household 
duty I remember that I was told that it was 
more trouble to show me how to do it proper¬ 
ly than to do it alone, and so my poor, pa¬ 
tient, hard-working mother baked and 
churned and swept, and ironed alone, and 
when she had worked herself into an unneces¬ 
sarily early grave, she left behind her a daugh¬ 
ter who could “neither wash dishes nor sew 
up a seam," 
Perhaps 1 should blush to confess that I 
could “feed the swine,” aye and the rest of the 
stock, and 1 could harness a team and drive 
it too, as well as any rnan on the place. For 
1 had led a wild, nomad sort of a life out of 
school hours, and when l followed my father 
and'brothers to the field they did not seem to 
find it a trouble to teach me, and so in my 
way i became quite a farmer, but I was none 
the less unable to keep my father’s house. I 
learned it all later, but through much tribula¬ 
tion. 
It, is true kindness to children to give to each 
some daily duty, and insist on its being 
promptly and thoroughly done. I have seen 
a week woman go to the well for water in bit¬ 
ter cold weathef when her able-bodied husband 
or son sat by the fire. It is truly criminal in 
a woman to show so little solf-respect. A 
mother should train her boys to perform acts 
of gallantry. A boy who will sit still and al¬ 
low a woman to do a piece of work that prop¬ 
erly comes within his province, such as carry¬ 
ing wood or coal or water, is in a fair way to 
become a selfish, boorish man. In the best 
managed households everyone shares the 
work. Some one says that good housekeeping 
ought to signify good generalship. 
Mothers should remember that they owe a 
duty to the wives and husbands of their sons 
and daughters, and if they inculcate selfishness 
in the former or idleness in the latter, they are 
laying the foundation for just so many un¬ 
happy homes. I often wonder how much of 
my husband’s dyspepsia is due to the fact that 
the menus of our early married life were some¬ 
thing calculated to produce that disease in an 
ostrich. Don’t let your daughters wait to 
learn their housekeeping hv experience. The 
air that some homes have of going at “sixes 
and sevens” is a strain on the affections that 
few men are aide to endure. Make your 
children self-helpful and helpful to others. 
Most of us can agree with Mr. Mautiliui that 
“Life is a dernned horrid grind.” but it does 
not make it any better for the rest of the fam¬ 
ily,for the mother to bear all the burdens alone. 
Teach the young people the practical meaning 
of “Bear ye one another’s burdens.” 
MRS. TIMOTHY HAYSEED. 
REMINISCENCES OF AN OLD HOUSE¬ 
KEEPER.—NO. 1 
MRS. S. H. ROWELL. 
Fifty years ago! How long it seems, to look 
back through Time's Corridor, aud yet the 
years have flown quickly, aud were it not for 
the grey hairs that cluster arflund ray tem¬ 
ples, and the merry voices of my grandchil¬ 
dren it would not seeni so loug a time since I 
set up my household goods in a low-roofed, 
old-fashioned farmhouse. I had, for a num¬ 
ber of years been engaged as u common 
sc ool teacher, and t.o say that I was heartily 
tired of the occupation, would but slightly 
describe my feoliugs upon the subject. Then 
I was employed as instructress iu a higher 
school, and I, in two years, became tired of 
that, uud so as a distraction from the business, 
I married, nnd went to housekeeping. There 
was one thing that was of great use to me 
although at the time, I did not realize that I 
w as gathering knowledge, as well as imparting 
it. It, was in the long ago, the custom for the 
school teacher to board around the district, 
so many days board for each, scholar. Some¬ 
times I had very pleasant quarters, and my 
bill of fare was unexceptionable, while in 
other homes, army fare would have been far 
preferable to the eatables that were set before 
me, but 1 lived through it, and came forth 
much wiser than when I entered the ranks. 
1 saw how very differently homes were regu¬ 
lated, and noted the different methods of do¬ 
ing work, and wtlmt one wife and mother 
made a heavy burden, another would regard 
as no task; I learned different styles of cook¬ 
ery, and garnered iu my memory those which 
were best and most desirable. I saw how 
some women groaned over the washing day, 
while others made merry over the same labor. 
That was before washing machines and fluids 
came iu fashion, and wringers were not invent¬ 
ed,1 had ample time and opportunity to notice 
and compare all the various methods,in every 
department of housework, aud I saw very soon 
that order was the indispensable law of every 
well regulated home. Consequently, the first 
thing I did in my new vocation was to have 
order fully established in my domain, aud I 
am happy to say that I never regretted it. 
“A place for everything, and everything iu its 
place.” I made a thorough clearing of my 
new home, the first business of my house¬ 
keeping, I washed, scoured, and scrubbed, 
] min ted, papered nnd white-washed, till 1 
was fully content with the neatness of my 
home. Then I began to ornament on a small 
scale, for that was before bric-a-brac and 
fancy wall ornaments had been introduced 
into the adornments of every home. Any¬ 
way my house was neat and sweet, aud 1 was 
satisfied. I had been into every lobby and 
closet, and was sure there was not a speck ot 
dirt to be found anywhere. I then took the 
yards in hand, and transplanted flower roots 
and roses.snowballs and syringas.aud had just 
got my big jobs of regulating completed, when 
an old friend and neighbor that, had lived in my 
old home village,called to see me. Oh! how glad 
aud proud I was to welcome him to my neat 
home! Ho, too, enjoyed the visit, and I ran 
down cellar to draw a pitcher of my home¬ 
brewed beer, to give him a treat. I turned 
the beer all foam and sparkling into a turn, 
bier aud handrel it to him. He took it smiling 
nnd said with a laugh. “My little woman, you 
are looking very neat and nice but there is 
one place in your domaiu that is uot clean.” 
I nearly dropped my pitcher in astonishment. 
“Where is it?” 1 gasped out at last. 
“Your cellar is not sweet. When you 
opeued the door a very strong perfume filled 
this room; a decided moldy smell,” 
“Oh, it has been swept all over, there is uot 
a cobweb to be seen anywhere,” I said, exult- 
ingly. 
“Yes, but it needs ventilation, aud disinfec¬ 
tants iu it. Very likely it has laid foul for 
months, and gathered dampness. You must 
let the sunshine into it and fresh air; take out 
the windows and sprinkle copperas water, or 
lime, all around the bottom and sides, that 
will purify it.” 
I looked and felt quite mortified at the 
thought. 
“Never mind,” he laughingly said. “You 
waut to begin right. A damp, foul cellar is a 
dangerous thing, and I would be sorry to have 
the sunshine of your new home clouded by 
having a fever enter its walls, when you 
might have prevented it if you had purified 
your cellar this spring. Another thing, that 
siuk drain will, as the weather grows warm, 
gather a fungus that is extremely unhealthy. 
You ought every week to t.uru your boiling 
suds on the sides and scrub it off with an old 
broom, and scatter some sunflower seeds 
around it to drawoff all malarial odors that 
rise. The leaves of the stalks will grow very 
large and absorb all the dampness, and is a 
great preventive of sickness.” I took his 
advice and followed it, and have found that 
“An ounce of prevention is better than a 
pound of cure.” 
COMPANIONSHIP HEALTHFUL. 
M. G. 
There is a wise, old German saying that 
“Only a god or a brute can dwell in solitude.” 
Men and women need congenial companion¬ 
ship, both for the sake iff health and happi¬ 
ness. Just as your lungs, after using up all 
the oxygen in a close room, need to be filled 
with fresh, out-of-door air, so your mind needs 
contact with other minds to get new ideas. 
There is such a thing as mental as well as 
physical hunger. Herders on the large cattle 
ranches of the West frequently become mad 
from the isolation they are forced to endure. 
Women on lonely farms and in small villages* 
grow morbid and mildly Insane, aud people 
do not guess that the cause is want of com¬ 
panionship. 
It is for this reason that a woman’s work at 
home is always more trying than that of her 
husband, who goes to his office, sees new faces, 
and has the friction that is produced by meet¬ 
ing other people. Even the farmer has more 
intercourse with his neighbors at the market 
or at the village grocery, than his wife, who 
may not see anyone outside of her own family 
for weeks. 
It is u great mistake for young married peo¬ 
ple to isolate themselves. Even if their tastes 
lead them to a quiet life, they should make it 
a point to cultivate a few agreeable friends. 
GOLDEN GRAINS. 
Nothing gives such dignity nnd grace and 
force to one’s whole being as the pervasive 
presence of a steadfast purpose. 
The men that, fail in life, as a rule, fail uot 
so much because of a luck of natural ability as 
from a lack of any distinct and steady aim... 
The lessons of the past are to be remembered 
—as lessons. The attainments of the past are 
to he forgotten—as attainments. If we were 
to forget the lessons of the past, we could 
make no progress, even if we wanted to. If 
we were to dwell upon the attainments of the 
past, we should not want to make any pro¬ 
gress ... .. .. 
Progress is a duty; and, in order to per¬ 
form that duty, there must be wise remember¬ 
ing and wise forgetting, all along our course 
in life. .. 
Failure is the next best thing to success; it 
may even bo a better thing than success. To 
say that one has failed, is to say that he has 
striven; and to say that he has striven, is to 
sav that bo has acquired strength in the striv¬ 
ing... 
Hf. who does well in spite of his lack of helps 
deserves more credit than he who lacks in spite 
of helps which he had. 
Domestic Ceoitoiraj 
CONDUCTED by MRS. AGNES E. M. CARMAN. 
Truth, candor , love—essentials to home 
happiness. 
THOUGHTS. 
Extravagant speech is but a form of slang, 
and to our mind it is just as objectionable. 
Are our young girls more modest and bet¬ 
ter bred than were the girls of 30 years ago? 
If you would have healthy children, do not 
permit them to eat between meals. 
It is time to start pansies. Plant the seed 
in good-sized pots, having plenty of drainage 
in the bottom, and keep in a sunny window. 
While never allowing the soil to become dry, 
it should not be kept so wet that a green mold 
forms on the surface, or the young seed lings 
will “damp off.” Transplant singly into 
thumb-pots as soon as the second leaves deve¬ 
lop. Let them receive all the suu and light 
possible, aud don’t lot their growth be checked 
by lettiug the soil dry out. The pots are so 
small that they will require frequent water¬ 
ing. The middle of May in the latitude of 
New York they can go iuto the open ground. 
Select a rich, moist soil for the bed, and if 
you want pansies aud uot “Johnny-jumpers,” 
stir the surface of the soil frequently—it should 
always l)e moist—and souk tlio bed once a 
fortnight with weak manure water. Accord¬ 
ing to the writer’s notion, there is nothing 
prettier than pansies for dinner table decora¬ 
tion. 
»»«-- 
THREE BILLS OF FARE. 
DINNER. 
Puree split peas, boiled leg of mutton, 
caper sauce, turnips, curried rice, oyster plant 
fritters, peach short cake. 
breakfast. 
Broiled salt mackerel, stewed potatoes, 
Graham rolls, rice griddle cakes. 
LUNCHEON. 
Swiss turnovers, fried homiuy, stewed 
fruit, cocoa and toast. 
We begin our bills-of-fare with the dinner, 
because its viands arc intended to help out the 
other meals. One cup of split, peas soaked 
over-night, in cold water, uud put on in the 
morning with two quarts of water, the usual 
soup vegetables, and a Imjuo of any kind must 
1m? boiled for four hours, nnd mashed through 
a sieve; if it Ls then returned to the tire with a 
few slices of bologna sausage, and simmered 
for another half hour the soup will be much 
improved. The seasonings are salt aud 
pepper. 
A leg of mutton will look cleaner and less 
sodden if If. is boiled in a piece of tarlatan 
basted about it tightly. It should tie put on iu 
plenty of boiling water, a little salt added at 
the first boil, skimmed carefully, and then 
placed where it will just simmer. Allow fif¬ 
teen minutes for each pound. The liquor will 
make an excellent soup for the next day with 
rico or tomatoes or both. Scrape the oyster 
plant and t hrow into cold water containing a 
little vinegar. Boil until tender iu salted 
water, drain, mash, add one beaten egg, salt, 
three spoonfuls of milk or cream, and flour, 
(through which u little sou-foam has been 
sifted), sufficient to make a batter. Drop iu 
small spoonfuls in boiling fat, uud fry a light 
brown. 
Make a shortcake from one. quart of flour, 
iuto which rub two tablespoonfuls of butter 
and one of lard, add the beaten yelks of two 
eggs, one cup and a quarter of buttermilk, 
into which has been stirred a scant half-spoon¬ 
ful of soda and a little salt. Roll out quickly 
iuto two sheets, the lower loses than half an 
inch thick, lay on the pouches drained from 
the juice, put on the top crust, and bake about 
twenty-five minutes. Cut into squares anil 
eat with cream and sugar. The peaches 
should Ik? emptied from the can iuto a sieve 
