for an hour before they are used in order that 
they may be as dry as possible. 
Soak the mackerel over night, in hike warm 
water; in the morning put over the fire in 
cold water, and when done, which will be in 
from ten to fifteen minutes, lay upon a hot 
dish while you make the sauce. Into n small 
cup of boiling milk stir a teaspoonful of corn¬ 
starch wet with a litfle water; a table- 
spoonful of butter, pepper and chopped pars¬ 
ley. Pour this sauce very slowly over a 
well-beaten egg and turn it over the fish. 
In making the curried rice for yesterday’s 
dinner you febould have laid aside a cupful of 
the rice before the curry was added, mash this 
very smoothly with oue beaten egg, a little 
salt and a cupful of milk, added by degrees; 
add flour, through which seafoam has been 
sifted in the proportions of a tea-spoonful to a 
pint, until you have a rather thin batter. Fry 
a light-brown, using very little fat. 
If you have carved your mutton neatly, 
and your family is not too large, you can 
have a second dinner from it and still have 
enough left for the Swiss turnovers for lunch¬ 
eon. A large cupful of minced mutton will 
be enough. Put half a cupful of the mutton 
broth into a saucepan; stir in a spoonful of 
butter cut in bits and rolled in flour. Season 
it with itapper aud salt aud a spoonful of either 
tomato or mushroom catsup. Pour this over 
a beaten egg, return it to the saucepan, add 
the mince, and stir until very hot. Keep it 
hot over hot water while you make a batter 
of oue eup of flour, two eggs, a httlu salt, a 
pinch of soda dissolved iu vinegar, ami about 
two cups of milk—enough for a thin batter. 
Put a spoonful of fnt into the frying-pan, when 
very hot shake it evenly over the bottom, and 
turn in a half cupful of batter and fry quickly; 
cover with the mince; fold up like an omelet, 
ami lay upon a hot dish in the open oven to 
keep warm while you fry the rest. This is a 
delicious and hearty lunch or supper dish. 
PALMETTO. 
ONE WINTER. 
ANNE THRIFTY.— NO. VIII. 
The Saturday when we were to go to the 
works to see the big wheel cast, proved a cold, 
raw day, with a cheerless, gray sky. The out¬ 
door air was so bleak that the children pre¬ 
ferred to stay in the bouse, but they acted 
like little caged animals. They turned the 
chairs down in line, to make a railroad train, 
placed the big rocking-chair upright for the 
engine, suspended the dish-pan from it for a 
bell, and judging from the number of times it 
rang under blows from the potato masher, the 
train seemed continually pulling out from a 
succession of imaginary depots, 
I rescued the dish-pan from such violent 
usage and the “engineer” substituted au old 
rusty milk-pan, long past its days of useful¬ 
ness, and without delay pulled out of another 
invisible depot with his train. 
As I arranged the dishes in the safe, Bertie 
caught sight ol' the tin box containing what 
remained of the fruit cake, aud began to 
beg for a piece. There was only enough left 
to put on the table once more, and I told him 
he must wait until supper time for his share, 
but he was not to be put off so easily, “Please 
give me a piece, C’ousiu Atiue, just a little 
piece,” be teased. “No, Bertie, 1 want to save 
it all for supper.” “Just a HIHc piece, Cousin 
Annie,” and the little mischief kept up his 
begging for half an hour, in spite of my re¬ 
monstrances and commands, hut with a 
roguish look in his eyes tnat showed he did 
not expect the cake, but enjoyed teasing for 
it. 
Uuclehad said to me: “You must not let 
the boys tease you for things they can't have. 
Ix't them see t hat no means no, or you will 
have endless trouble with them;” but until 
now I had had no occasion to use his advice, 
and now my no seemed of no avail. “Bertie,” 
I scolded, getting all out of patience, "don't 
ask me again for that cake—you can't have 
any." “Just a crumb, Cousiu Anne,” begged 
the irrepressible youngster, und seeing my ad¬ 
vantage 1 said: “If 1 give you a crumb will 
you promise not to beg for any more?' “Ves, 
I promise” he answered readily, and when I 
handed him the cake box he took a minute 
crumb with uu air of triumph that was 
ludicrously out of proportion with the piece of 
cake. 
He returned contentedly to his play with 
Snmmie who had not uttered a word while 
Bertie had assailed me with his entreaties. 
PijSwUaucouu 
When Baby was sick, we save her Castoria 
When she was a Child, she cried for distorts, 
Whou she became Miss, she dung to Castoria, 
When she had Children, she gave them Castoria. 
THE RURAL fNEW-YQRKER. 
Both the boys could be depended on when¬ 
ever they gave a promise, and Bertie did not 
mention the cake again all day. 
After dinner I brought out the mending and 
darning. There were some big holes in the 
boys’ flannels, and I said there was more 
mending than 1 could do before we must start 
for the Works, whereupon both boys began to 
beg that they might help me, so 1 selected a 
pair of Undo John’s socks with medium-sized 
holes iu each sock and gave them to the boys 
to mend. They followed my directions care¬ 
fully, and made really creditable work, weav¬ 
ing the yarn in and out/, and taking great care 
to go over and under each alternate thread. 
1 cannot say that their work saved much time 
for me, but it kept them contentedly em¬ 
ployed. 
At half-past three we put on our wraps, 
looked to the safety of the fires, locked 
up the house and started to the 
Works. We found Unde watching for 
us at the great entrance gate, and he took us 
into the store room while he put things in or¬ 
der for Saturday night. When he was 
through the shadows had begun to gather, and 
as wo entered the large room where the cast¬ 
ing was to be done, the glow from the furnace 
lighted only one end of the lofty aj>artment. 
The earth served for a floor here, aud all 
about were buried “flasks.” The flasks, uncle 
explained, are boxes of wood or iron contain¬ 
ing the molds that are to be filled with molten 
iron from the furnace. 
The men were moving about getting the 
great kettle in place on a large crane, that 
was to swing around from the furnace to the 
flask containing the mold of the great wheel. 
At last, all being ready, the word was given 
and the ball of clay was removed from the 
opening in theoupalo, as uncle called the furn¬ 
ace, and the metal at white heat streamed 
into the kettle. As the air reached the in¬ 
tensely heated metal, myriads of beautiful 
scintillating drops of iron flew iu a shower 
above the stream. Several ladies bad joined 
our group, and we all instinctively drew 
nearer, charmed with the strange fireworks, 
but uncle warned us that to be touched with 
oue of those drops would tie very painful, and 
guided us to a respectful distance from them. 
As the white-hot iron flowed from the cupalo 
it gave out a glow that lighted the room as 
with an electric burner. 
Swinging the kettle around to the buried 
flask containing the mold of the wheel, two 
men poured the metal into it and as it stream¬ 
ed from the kettle the great drops again flew 
high into the air in every direction, suapping 
like bursting fireworks. They came in such a 
shower that we ran hastily back still further 
from the scorching rain. Smaller kettles of 
the white-hot iron were being carried to the 
flasks throughout the room, and after they 
were tilled the most wierd-looking flames 
played over them consuming an invisible gas 
as it escaped, their blue, green, yellow and 
red flames darted about in au uncanny way 
with no visible fuel to feed them. 
In answer to our questions uncle said, “The 
wheel is about IS feet in diameter and it will 
take about 11),000 pounds of iron to fill the 
mold. The flusk is filled with a peculiar 
yellowish sand called molder’s sand; it is 
about half day and very flue: it will retain 
any shape given it. The mold for the wheel is 
made of this, firmly pounded into the flask. 
All pieces that are to be hollow are made 
so by haviug cores suspended by fine wires. 
These cores are made of moulder’s sand and 
Hour, aud are baked like bread, in a slow oveu 
before they are needed.” 
As the kettle swung around again, one of 
the ladies asked uncle how much it held, and 
he told her about 4,0(Hi pounds. “It is very 
quick work,” he added, “to fill the flasks after 
everything is ready. While we are watching 
they will till about 50 small ones and this 
large one, aud then everybody will leave as 
quickly us he can, for the burning cores till 
the place with such villa units gases it is chok¬ 
ing business to slay.” 
Already we began to cough, from the effects 
of these gases, and as the last shower of 
glowing spheres fell to the ground aud be¬ 
came dark spots of iron, we hurried away, 
after a last look at the dancing flames that 
still ulayed over some of the flasks. 
“Don’t the men get burned, papa.'” Sammie 
asked. “Yes, sometimes; when there is too 
much water mixed with the sand the hot iron 
seems to become enraged ami the whole build¬ 
ing is filled with the dangerous sparks, the 
men who can do so fly without ceremony, 
their only idea being to get. their bodies out 
of reach of that fiery rain.” 
“How long will it. take the wheel to cool?” 1 
asked. “It, will tie taken out some time to¬ 
morrow, but if the same quantity of iron was 
cast iu a solid piece it would tie much longer 
iu cooling,” heauswered. “These works have 
an immense business and send their machinery 
all over the Union and into foreign countries; 
they made a shipment last week to Sout 
America, and will send another to Australia 
next week.” 
Reachiug home, we found the postman had 
tucked several letters under the door while we 
were away, and patting mine into my pocket 
to read later, I made some hot apple sauce for 
supper while Uncle John read his aloud. We 
sat down to a supper of corn bread, applesauce, 
cold beans and the last of the Christmas fruit 
cake. Certainly the finest and richest cake 
could not have given us more enjoyment than 
did that simply-made dried apple cake. And 
the boys, at least, were sorry to see the last 
piece disappear. 
MONOTONY OF WOMAN’S WORK. 
ANNIE L. JACK. 
The many Charity Sweethearts who tell me 
that they too experience the trials to which 
that youug girl was subjected reminds me of 
a late discussion among us on the monotony of 
woman’s work. The Professor (a guest) stated 
that he always pitied women: for their lives, 
if they were domestic in their habits, were 
very monotonous. It was the same everyday 
work of three meals a day, and the men were 
sure to have their work varied by outside in¬ 
fluences and file distraction of business. To 
this some callow young farmers objected and 
said that their work was no more varied. I 
quoted the Rural and Mr. Grant Allen as to 
the fact that so many women in country 
homes become insane. But this was not sup¬ 
posed to be a fact, I must “be mistaken'’; and 
other comments led me on to say that 1 did 
not see any reason in this enlightened age for 
any such disease to affect women on account 
of their position. True it is that the summer 
days are often wearisome, and that in the 
midst of worry aud work there is hardly time 
to breathe a breath of God's pure air, to see 
the flowers, much less to gather them as some 
one suggested. But the summer is noc the 
worst of this living, for when there is plenty 
of work there is not much time for loneliness; 
and, besides, there is generally some distrac¬ 
tion, if it is only the Sunday School picnic or 
now and then a trip to the market town. But iu 
winter, when the birds and dowel's are gone; 
when money is scarce aud books are few; 
when the little round of daily duties is unvar¬ 
ied—that time is the worst. 
“Oh! but she will have her husband in the 
house; he will be company for her then!” 
I could but look at the youths who interrupted 
me aud mentally wondered if they would be 
like other men whose wives seldom see their 
faces except in glimpses from behind a news¬ 
paper when away from the table. Not that I 
object to this,better there than m the corner 
grocery, but for company! My suffering sis¬ 
ters, do you not know some cases not far from 
your own door, where if you ask a question, 
the newspaper is put down with an air of re¬ 
signed reluctance or your answer comes curt 
aud terse from behind It, till you learn to 
Stand in awe of that newspaper as first in your 
hero’s heart? And if by and bye, his eyes get 
dim, anil he wearies as years go by for a little 
of the converse you once longed for, he has 
taught you so well that you do not think of 
coming in at the breach. Your children have 
grown up and become your companions, or 
you are taken up with that little round of 
duties, or insane. 
Men in the country seldom think of taking 
out their wives for the pleasure of a drive to 
enjoy the scenery, seldom suggest in those 
early years that the social life shall be kept 
up, and recreation lie a part of duty. Aud 
how many women suffer from this isolation, 
and die and make no sign, God only knows. 
“You think then that farm life is degrad¬ 
ing'” said the Student. “.Vo,” 1 answered, 
“ .Vo, but I think that even iu family life, 
our men and women do not live up to what 
they might, to elevate it to its highest aiuis. 
I do not blame a man for reading all he has 
time for of the politics of his country and the 
important news of the day, but I know those 
who read their paper from beginning to end, 
advertisements included, aud iu doing so the 
house must Ih> kept silent so as not to disturb 
papa, and the wife must bo dumb or receive a 
withering frown. It is not enough then, as 
you say, that she has him; they should work 
together to improve and brighten the social 
elements around them, to keep up with the 
progress of the age, and to bring together 
people aud privileges that will make them¬ 
selves and Their neighbors the better. The 
weekly meeting at the church, when they 
solemnly congregate, is not enough to break 
the monotony, aud Thanksgiving and Fourth 
of July and Christmas are hardly sufficient 
holidays; ami if this social element could be 
developed in the farm life, it would add much 
to its perfectness aud attractiveness. Young 
women would not shrink from linking their 
jives with &fcinnt , r' , s,us is now often the case, 
but would carry with them the feeling which 
makes homes “cheerie for her suke. 
U4 
Our door yards brighter blooming, 
And all around the social air 
Is sweeter for her coming.” 
Here the talk drifted to the different ways 
in which women are held in respect, and one 
little girl, with crude ideas but an observing 
mind, said that the reason some men were so 
different to others was the way in which they 
spoke of, and to women. At which the cal¬ 
low youths asked if that was an insinuation, 
and she gently warned them not to put on the 
“ cap" nnless it was a good fit. The Cynic 
suggested that “every woman should have a 
string of treads and a rattle;” but no one no¬ 
ticed the remark except, that afterward the 
Mentor said that “ the higher the estimate in 
which the gentler sex were held meant the 
further remove from the savage,” at which the 
Sportsman savagely remarked that he would 
rather have a gun than a girl any day, and 
thus broke up the discussion. 
TABLE SCARF. 
I saw a very elegant table scarf the other 
day,that I thought might be very inexpen¬ 
sively imitated, it wasof the fashionable shade 
of yellow plush called “pumpkin yellow;” the 
ends were finished with a row of deep antique 
lace, above which was a handsome decoration 
of pansies appliqued with embroidered leaves, 
arranged in single file. This might be made 
from the cottou-plush, which, with proper 
core, will look fresh quite as long as its more 
aristocratic namesake. The pansies might be 
selected from a bit of cretonne, aud button¬ 
hole stitched on with silk of a suitable color. 
Antique lace for edging may be had for as 
low as 15 cents a yard. elsie. 
£Ui,$'rcllanrou.$ itimi.siutj 
The Great Popularity 
Of Ayer’s Dills is undoubtedly due to 
the fact that people have found them 
the very best remedy that could he 
procured for Biliousness, Constipation, 
Headache, and various other complaints 
of the 
Stomach and Bowels. 
“ For Sick Headache, caused by a dis¬ 
ordered condition of the stomach,*Ayer’s 
Pills are the most reliable remedy.” — 
S. C. Bradburn, Worthington, Mass. 
“Half a box of Ayer’s Tills restored 
my appetite.”— C. 6. Clark, Danbury, 
Conn. 
“ Four boxes of Ayer's Pills cured me 
of Liver Complaint."— E. L. Fulton, 
Hanover, N. H. 
Ayer’s Pills, 
Prepared by Dr. ,T. C. Ayer & Co., Lowell, Mass. 
Sold by all Druggists and Dealers in Medicine. 
We wilt pay one hundred dollars gold in premiums for 
best results’ from eiirht weeks' triul of Sheridan's 
Powder to Make Hens Lay. Semi your name and 
post-office for particulars. 1. 8. JOHNSON JS CO., 
?2 CUSTOM HOCSK STKK.RT. BOSTON, MASS 
EMBROIDERY SILK 
Factory Unit-* it half ooo ounce in & 
box—all*«xxl Silk and good eol.ee Sr-t hy 
mail on rccciytor 10 rents. loO Craty Stit:h« 
in raeh (Mtckxxv- Son.i Pastil ti.»cc Stamps 
to Till Kit tlM'UU * tRM.ST1ltl.Vt; SPOOL 
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WEAVER ORGANS 
An- the Fiseat In Tone, Style, PituaP. and prieral 
male op of any good* made. Uuaniuteod Cor 6 years. 
Send tor Catalogue, testimonials uml brats, true, to. 
Weaver Oruuu and l’lntni Co., 
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CEDAR CHESTS 
KEEP MOTHS.OUST. AND DAMP 
FROM CLOTHING. A5KFOR CIRCU L AR 
TERRY SHOW CASE CO. 
MAC HVttLC.TChh 
tec Sales, 
reduce our stock of music we 
will send by mall, post pal'1,60 pieces 
full sheet music size,Including songs, 
marches, waits, quadrilles (with enlist, etc., h\ Mendels 
snhn, (■ i-e-thoven. Mozart, etc . for -tic. Money refund 
<hI If not satisfactory. WHITE WIXGS and 100 
songs. Words and Music, itic. \ HATHIVAY, 
;tU WASHINGTON STREET, UOStON, MASS. 
lOOO 
KLEGANT LARGE 
TUBKI>*ll UUGH 
Given to the I, % IMKS of purchasers of Sample 
Harness with a view or an agency in territory where 
we have no agent, -tend for full particulars. 
siiKltWOOD H ARNESS l'«., Syracuse, N. Y. 
CAT 
A D DU'SAMPLE 
MKrvntREATMENT 
o gronl is our faith > 
utfervr, du will mall enough 
rvc. * B. S. l.ituKuuACu 
