We fear that where one has been brought 
up to neatness and thorough housewifery, it 
seems easier to work onesself to death than to 
leave things undone. And where there is only 
one woman in the house she is exported to 
keep all the gear in running order, even if 
this requires work enough for two or three. 
And here comes the necessity of minimizing 
the work to the bast of one’s ability. 
Wo can fancy some of our busy farmers’ 
wives smiling at the suggestion of lessening 
their work. Already they have reduced all 
works of supererogation; they cannot pay at¬ 
tention to the more fanciful details of the house, 
when they have care of the eggs, milk and 
butter, in addition to their cooking, cleaning 
and the like. It seems as if there is nothing 
that can be left undone in such cases. But it 
seems a weariful lot for a woman to work 
from dawn to dark at her treadmill round of 
duties; she has little time to look upon the 
poetic side of housework. It. needs an uufail- 
ing spring of domestic love to make such a 
life bearable. 
Is it really right or wrong to slight some 
parts of the housework, provided one always 
shows a due regard for cleanliness? 
It. seems to us, that when flit* i igid preform- 
auce of every duty means to the worker shat¬ 
tered nerves and impaired health, it is not 
only right, but absolutely necessary, that 
something should be left undone. What that 
something should be depends entirely on the 
circumstances of each ease. There are few 
cases where something could not be dispensed 
with, whether it is a superabundance of cakes 
and pastry, or au over elaboration in clothes. 
We heard of an exceptionally neat, house¬ 
wife the other day whose household consists 
of herself and husband, one child, and four 
servants. She observed complacently that 
she was a thorough housekeeper. She was 
asked what she considered thorough house¬ 
keeping ; she explained that her bouse was 
cleaned from top to bottom—every carpet 
taken up and beaten, and every inch of paint 
scoured —once a month / 
That domestic earthquake ycleped house- 
cleaning is terrifying enough when it only 
arrives once or twice a year—think what, it 
must be once a month ! snmll wonder that 
this over-neat housekeeper found she could not 
keep her servants, and is now reduced to 
boarding. 
We hope there are very few like this awful 
example of cleanliness, whose house, by the 
way, never looked any better than her neigh¬ 
bors: she merely points a moral, showing the 
excesses to which over-neatness may lead one. 
We have no wish to encourage slatternly 
habits, but we do believe that when a woman 
is working herself iuto nervous semi-in valid- 
ism the best thing she can do is to stop and 
consider what she may leave undone. Life is 
a ba tie field to many of us, but we might as 
well take some comfort as wo go along; and 
comfort there can be none if we misuse the 
health by which we should enjoy it. 
WHAT OUR GRANDMOTHERS DID. 
SOPHIA C. GARRETT. 
Among the wise sayings of Mary Lyon is 
found this question; “Where is the unmarried 
lady with a good education and a ivell-bal- 
auccd character, who is not able to find occu¬ 
pation and support?" Perhaps this question 
was uoted down as far back as the year 1838. 
Then, besides going to the district school, 
girls were taught by their mothers 10 sew, 
knit, spiu and often to weave cloth for the 
family wardrobe. A few of the young wo¬ 
men became teachers. Oftcner those having 
a knack for needle-work would coax lather 
and mother to let them go us apprentices to 
a milliner or dressmaker in the neighboring 
village, to learn one of those needful trades. 
Sometimes her prolonged stay caused great, 
sacrifices to be made at home. Hut these were 
forgotten when she returned lully prepared to 
work at her trade. Then she earned an in¬ 
come which amply supplied her own wants 
and helped support the rest of the family. A 
needed working-woman at that period was the 
tailoress. Young women served an appren¬ 
ticeship with a tailor mid learned to make 
clothes for men and hoys. Although more la¬ 
borious than dressmaking, the pro tils were 
greater, The taijoross went from house to 
house plying her art, and rejoicing that it 
brought relief to the busy housewife, who had 
enough on her hands without tailoring. Dur¬ 
ing her stuy with a patron her sharp shears 
and resolutely-wielded needle with well-waxed 
thread changed the ample web of fulled cloth 
iuto o vcrcoats,coats, waistcoats and trousel's in 
workmanlike manner. After sheep shearing 
in May quantities of wool went to the carding 
mill to be made into rolls. These were spun 
by the mothers and daughters. Girls went 
around spinning, Good spinners charged $1 
per week, spinning 4(J knots of yarn a day. 
None questioned the respectability of these 
workei*s. In the cities and villages women 
worked for wages as earnestly as did their ru¬ 
ral sisters, and their chances for getting work 
were better. Binding shoes, covering but¬ 
tons, knitting woolen underwear, also gloves, 
mittens and shawls, braiding straw for bon¬ 
nets and weaving palm leaf bats were some of 
the leading works done by them, pa ticularly 
in New England. 
While one woman wrought for wages in the 
early years of the l'.lth century, hundreds are 
now earning tlieir living and multitudes more 
are seeking employment. The onward march 
of progress has opened new fields of labor in 
which women can work and give us good sat¬ 
isfaction as men. The higher, or i he so-ealle 1 
genteel employments, us teaching, stenogra¬ 
phy, typewriting, copying, clerking and 
book-keeping, are favorites with women, as 
the pay is good. Many social privileges are 
enjoyed by them, from which they would be 
debarred if engaged in other callings, where 
th • hours of service were longer. The place 
where a womau lives, also her surroundings, 
her strength and fitness, usually decide the 
work she can do with profit and success. Hon¬ 
est work is respectable. Women are ladies, if 
well-behaved, though employed in the hum¬ 
blest labors. Better to work as a kitchen 
maid in a worthy family than be au idler and 
a weight on generous friends, when well and 
able to earn for yourself. 
• > • 
SOME WOMEN OP TO-DAY. 
SELMA CLARE. 
An Englishwoman has invented a new pro¬ 
fession for her sex, and although “ratcatcher” 
has scarcely an attractive sound, it is said to 
be a very lucrative business. Mrs. Benedict 
claims to have raised it to the dignity of a 
profession. It has always been an easy mat¬ 
ter to poison rats; the dillieult problem has 
been the disposing of them after they were 
poisoned. They have always shown a patri¬ 
otic persistence in dying in the bosom of their 
families, and owing to the low state of civili¬ 
zation among rats, and the fact that they 
have no “Boards of Health,” they have never 
made any provision for burial or cremation, 
which makes it very unpleasant, bo say the 
least, for the other inhabitants of the house 
under whoso roof they have elected to live 
and die. 
Mrs. Benedict has discovered how to induce 
them to “die on the spot.” Her business was 
the manufacture of plaster casts, aud one of 
the processes was to mix wheateu flour with 
pulverized piaster of Paris, to make the paste 
less brittle. Having sifted a quantity of this 
one evening and placed her dish of water 
handy, intending to make au experimental 
cast, she was called away by visitors, who re¬ 
mained so late that she retired without return¬ 
ing to the kitchen. During the night a rat of 
au exploring turn of mind made his way up 
the legs of the table, and striking a bonanza in 
the shape of the mixed flour and plaster—less 
greedy than other explorers known to fame— 
lost no tune in summoning his “sisters aud his 
cousins aud bis aunts,” and calling “the 
neighbors in.” After Lie manner of rat-kind, 
they ate rapidly au l freely of the flour aud 
plaster, which they found, as might be ex¬ 
pected, a rather dry meal. Wondering, 
doubtless, at the thoughtfulness of their enter¬ 
tainers, they quenched their thirst at the dish 
of water which they found handy, und at the 
same time answered Mr. Mai lock’s question 
“Is life worth living?” in the negative, and 
without quitting the table. 
The next morning when Mrs. Benedict 
entered her kitchen and saw the colony of 
dead rats around the water dish, she proved 
her femininity by mounting a chair and 
shrieking a la Charles Read’s heroine. Grow¬ 
ing calmer, however, upon fiuding that she 
was not attacked, she studied the scene from 
her vantage ground, aud soon discovered the 
cause. The water drunk by the rats turned 
the plaster they had eaten into paste, and 
then, in technical parlance, “set, it,” that is, it 
grew hard in their stomachs and effectually 
stopped any furt her action on the port of that 
useful and somewhat necessary organ. Like 
u wise woman she kept her secret (it is only 
somebody vise’s secret, that u woman is unable 
to keep), and agreed for a consideration to 
free her neighbor’s premises from the pests. 
Au equally practical and successful woman 
is Miss Ellen Callahan, the Queen of the 
Sierras, who runs two ranches, and niukes 
money out of them too. She can yoke the 
steers and plow us much in a day us any man, 
can build fences, pitch buy, or take her place 
with a crew of men at, a threshing machine, 
and keep even with any of them. She is a 
regular vacquero for riding refractory moun¬ 
tain horses, and is the best judge of live stock 
on this coast. She is the Mldy Morgan of the 
Paciflc, and for guessing the weight of a steer, 
or giving points about u horse, is unrivaled 
west of the Rockies. iShe is only ^5 yearn old, 
is attractive and dashing, although her sur¬ 
roundings and masculine work have naturally 
had much to do with the formation of her 
habits. Moreover she is ambitious, and 
having made a lot of money, is going to have 
a piano, a library, and a teacher and take life 
easier. She will probably be heard of again. 
Less commendable, but quite as erratic, is 
the Oakland belle, whose latest vagary is just 
now agitating society and the press. She is 
eighteen, au orphan, aud said to be more than 
usually attractive, and is besides au heiress in 
her own right, but not satisfied with these 
advantages she aspired to be a widow in order 
to have more “fun’’than was possible in her 
maiden state. Accordingly she consulted a 
friend as to the possibilities of carrying out 
her ambition, and this gentleman in conjunc¬ 
tion with an unscrupulous doctor agreed to 
provide her with a bridegroom “ warranted” 
not to live more than a month. “ And so they 
were married,” the would-be widow, agreeing 
to pay a certain sum to the doctor, aud also 
the funeral expenses of her husband aud his 
board as long as he lived. Unfortunately, 
however, the husband has not yet fulfilled his 
part of the contract, and refuses to die, in 
fact in the mouth which has intervened he 
has become the picture of health, and the silly 
little woman finds herself in a most unpleas¬ 
ant predicament. She has no ground for a 
divorce, but is going to bring suit against the 
doctor, her friend, and her husbaud for fraud 
aud conspiracy. 
Evidently it is a costly proceeding to buy a 
husband, aud one may truly say “ Le jeu ne 
vaut pas la chandelle.” 
REMINISCENCES OF AN OLD HOUSE¬ 
KEEPER. 
MRS. S. R ROWELL. 
One spring, after a very cold winter, our 
horses were all taken sick. All the farmers in 
the town had the same calamity. It seemed 
to be a general epidemic; colts, workmg- 
horses, drivers and all, were a poor sick lot of 
animals. The veterinary surgeons experi¬ 
mented and doctored, but the poor equines 
would die after a few days’ sickness The old 
proverb that “ misery loves company,” did 
not prove true in this case, for we were all 
sorry when a new case of epizootic was an¬ 
nounced. The poor creatures would shake as 
iu un ague fit; then in a short time, the per¬ 
spiration would drop off of them ; they would 
not eat; their eyes a in I noses ran continually; 
medicines had to be poured down their throats 
from bottles, aud it was very apparent that 
the poor I leasts suffered untold agonies. 
Oh, how blue my husband was that time ! He 
had about, eighteeu huudred dollars invested 
in horseflesh, and there it was—almost every 
horse in town was dead or dying, and there 
seemed no possible way to save them. There 
was one two-years-old colt that had always 
been cosseted and petted, aud she did look so 
pitiful that it made my heart, ache to look at 
her. She was a little beauty ! Had the regu¬ 
lar blue blood in her veins, and to think she 
had got to die was too bad. At the end of the 
wood-shed was a store room where the hun¬ 
dred and one necessaries of a farm-house were 
stored for safe keeping. I proposed that all 
the tools should be removed to one end of the 
room, aud a soft bedding of straw should be 
spread over th© floor at the vacant end, aud the 
colt should be taken m there, so that I could 
take care of her myself, and I would not have to 
go out of doors in the snow and slush. At first 
he objected to the plan, but 1 urged so bard— 
it seemed such a pity not to try to save it— 
that at last ho brought Colly in, and 1 com¬ 
menced operations. I poulticed her jaws and 
nock with hasty pudding, as hot os she could 
bear it; then 1 put some old boots in the stove, 
and when the)' got to blazing, took them into 
an iron kettle, and tiling a blanket over the 
colt's head, and set the smoking leather under 
her nose. In a few minutes she began to 
sneeze, aud obtained imniediule relief. 1 kept 
the blanket over her head till she cooled off 
somewhat; then I made a bran nmshnndguve 
her to drink; she took a few swallows very 
slowly; next, 1 cut up some sour apples very 
fine, and fed to her. She just enjoyed them: 
well, the uoxt morning she was better. 1 kept 
her in the store-room a week, and she could 
eat hay as well as over. She was very poor in 
flesh, but, it did not take long for her to pick 
up again, and she made a five hundred 
dollar horse in throe years 1 had such 
success that my good man took courage aud 
set up in collecting old boots and shoes and 
smothered and poulticed the other horses and 
colts, and we did not lose but on© out of the 
lot and that was the first one that was takeu 
sick. When the horse doctors inquired what 
we did for our horses, they looked rather 
crest-fallen, but they went into the same 
practice, and the plague was stayed; Ido not 
think they felt very complimentary towards 
me for setting up opposition to their practice. 
1 have noticed that doctoi's of humans as well 
as animals, do not much fancy having women 
know very much about medicine or caring 
for the sick, but I had no notion of losing our 
property, just for the snko of practicing igno¬ 
rance and humoring the doctors when I could 
help them myself. Of all the manifestations 
of gratitude I think horses will express the 
most, when one has cared for, and helped 
them, and it is lasting, too. They never for¬ 
got it and they are not ashamed to exhibit 
their gratitude and affection. A horse is a 
noble specimen of Nature’s handiwork, and 
one would almost think that they had human 
intelligence, and they really do show that they 
do some deep thinking. I am a great lover of 
horses, and they always lovo mo, or the sour 
apples that I am in the habit of feeding to 
thorn at all times. 
THOUGHTS BY THE WAY. 
BY THE LATE HENRY WARD BEECHER. 
Religion is a very small, lean, gaunt, poor, 
ill-fed thing os it is ordinarily conceived of iu 
this world. 
Men sit around a tool-chest quarreling 
about saws and planes and chisels. They are 
not building anything—they are debating 
ubout tools. They are fit to be a theological 
seminary... 
TnAT kiud of revival preaching which seeks 
to drive men into heaven by the fear of hell is 
not Christianity; it is the worst form of 
paganism. 
Sects are candlesticks, and a man or 
woman that is big enough to be good for any¬ 
thing is too large for any sect. 
Wny is it that men think it incumbent upon 
them to tie cats and dogs in religion and gen¬ 
tlemen in everything outside of it,?. 
I esteem the awfuluess that is attached to 
Sunday, aud church, and pulpit, the greatest 
mistake of Christendom.. . 
The president idea of keeping the Sabbath 
is that it is a day on which certain things 
must not bo done. To the nmj irity of people 
Sunday is a day full of nets. 
I AM in favor of any movement that helps 
anybody to appreciate Sunday as a day of 
rest, of health and pure pleasures, aud that 
will gently lead men, women and children 
from the things of low estate up to the higher. 
To on© who is living aright, no death can be 
sudden, aud no place unfavorable. One step, 
and all roads meet .. 
Dying is the best part of life to one who 
knows how to live worthily. 
If tbe life that has gone out has becu like 
mu ic. full of concords, full of sweetness, 
richness, delicacy, truth, then there are two 
ways to look at it. One is to say, “I have not 
lost it!” Another is to say, “Blessed be God 
that I have had it so long! ’... 
1 say when a person becomes a Christian 
that ho loses nothing that, he should not. be 
afraid to keep. If ever you are going to be a 
Christian, don’t set out to be a gloomy-eyed, 
twilight-faced, bat-liko Christian... 
CONDUCTED BY MRS. AGNES E. M. CARMAN. 
It is not at all necessary to have three hot 
meals each day in summer. With a little 
planning one can let the kitchen fire go out 
almost every afternoon aud sometimes iu the 
morning. We don’t think that duty demands 
of any woman that she should spend these 
hot days in the kitchen with the thermometer 
in the nineties preparing good thiugs for her 
family to eat. It is killing work, and bene¬ 
fits no one, but few women have the courage 
in household matters to turn aside from the 
beaten path and make one for themselves. 
The most of us are slaves to custom aud our 
appetites, and until we adopt Frances Wil¬ 
lard’s capital motto, “Plain living ami high 
thinking,” just so long shall we be willing to 
physically and mentally dwarf ourselves for 
our stomach’s sake. 
A DINNER OF SCRAPS. 
It doesn’t sound inviting, I grant you, and 
to make the matter worse we had unexpected 
company. I had kubwn quite well when the 
butcher called that “ my cupboard was bare,” 
but as Fred hail gone to town and would not 
be homo until Into, sister Nettie and 1 had 
resolved to avail ourselves of the advantages 
gUjtttlUiiwoufl i&dvettWujj. 
When Baby was sick, we save her Castorla 
When she was a Child, she cried for Castorla, 
When she became Miss, she clung to Castorla, 
When she had Children, she gave them Castorla. 
