OCT 29 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
being asked, and they think of the comfort of 
others as well as their own. 
I know some of these young folk, and find 
it a pleasure to see them growing manly or 
womanly. Instead of thoughtlessly asking 
for everything for themselves, they are 
thoughtfully giving much help to others. 
When this change begins at home it brightens 
things there wonderfully. But some boys and 
girls change in their manners and their de¬ 
mands upon every one except their mother. 
They fail to be polite, thoughtful and consid¬ 
erate toward the one who would bo most 
pleased to receive their courtesy. Instead of 
a polite reply when asked to go on an errand 
there is a protest and, perhaps, a sharp order 
to. “Get the basket quick or 1 won’t go at 
all!” When some request is denied they an¬ 
swer: “Oh, you never care whether I have 
auytbiug.” or “I think you are just as mean 
as can be, 7 ’ or “You just want mo to have a 
horrid time, I know,” uttered in tones so dis¬ 
agreeable that oven an unfeeling post, if 
spoken to in such a way, might be forgiven if 
it jumped from its place and started after the 
speaker. 
“Mother knows I don’t mean it,” they say, 
only half ashamed, if some one tells them it is 
nut kind. But if they could realize how these 
things they “do not mean” pain their mothers, 
and how rude they are, the words and tones 
would lie changed. 
Some boys and girls find it especially hard 
to do promptly what they are told to do, and 
most lie asked over and over. They are not 
so impolite, as to pay no attention to a call for 
a little bell* from even strangers; why then so 
uncivil to their mother si It is a habit that is 
good only to be rid of, for there is a pleasure in 
responding quickly and cheerfully when nsked 
hi help, and in being ahead of the call too, 
without waiting to be asked, or reminded to 
do things that have to be done every day. 
These slow boys aud girls do not realize how 
it tires those around them to urge them to lie- 
gin everything they do. 
“i d rather do the work myself ten times 
over, if I could, than have the children around 
in the kitchen,” mothers often say, and they 
mean it, for the children iustead of quietly do¬ 
ing as they are told and being a real help to 
the mother who really needs them, get their 
fingers and noses into everything in the clos¬ 
ets, and on the shelves, upset tilings and waste 
them and insist upon makiug the cake, work¬ 
ing the butter or doing some other thing be¬ 
yond their skill, and frowning and fretting if 
asked to do some simpler work. This isn’t 
help at all, it is the most troublesome kind of 
hindrance. 
If your mother tells how very busy she will 
be, aud you answer eagerly, “let me help 
you,” do be as good as your word. Help her, 
and do it in her way, or it will not be help at 
all. Don’t criticize everything you work 
with, nor demand something different. Don’t 
call the dish-cloth horrid, the knives dull, the 
table too little, the broom too heavy, aud the 
kitchen too hot, or your mother will soon be 
too much tried to endure your help any 
longer She may sigh and say nothing, if 
you say that she never lets you help, but iu 
truth she would be pleased indeed with real 
help from you, but. the worry and trouble you 
make cancel all your help and leave some 
trouble over to add to her own work. 
Another way iu which boys and girls some¬ 
times fail in their treatment, of their mothers, 
is by borrowing from them without asking to 
do so, aud forgetting to ret urn the things 
taken away. Scarcely anything escapes these 
young borrowers, the fire-shovel, the brooms, 
the sharp knives, iron spoons, scissors, 
thimbles, thread, and a great variety of other 
things, from a cake pan to a pair of stockings. 
And when these things are wanted the bor¬ 
rower has forgotten that he ever had them un¬ 
til they are found where he (or she) left them. 
They would be heartily ashamed to treat a 
neighbor’s wife so, but entirely forget to be 
as thoughtful and considerate Of the things 
belonging to the mother, who, though she 
may scold, forgives and overlooks their many 
faults and failures, loves them with ail her 
heart, and is made glad by every attempt 
they make to please her. The sous and daugh¬ 
ters who do the most for their mothers, who 
show every courtesy to her that they would 
to strangers, will not do too much. Be 
thoughtful for your mother's comfort^ be 
gentlemanly, be ladylike iu her presence, and 
you will gain a beauty of character from it 
that will be felt through all your lives. 
A WORD TO MOTHERS.—II. 
BY DOLTNDA MIX. 
Housework has been the theme of several 
discussions iu the Rural during the past lew 
months. The duties of mistress and maid 
have been pretty thoroughly viewed from 
both standpoints—that of the mistress aud 
that of the maid. 
This, no doubt, was of great interest to very 
many of the “Ruralites,” still, to some, it 
was only as a pleasant chat about something 
in which they took no personal interest. 
Many farmers’ wives cannot afford to keep 
a servant; many have large families in which 
there are several girls, mid the farmer and 
his wife, although well-to-do, think that, iu¬ 
stead of keeping a servant they should train 
their daughters to do housework, for iu all 
probability they will be called upon, either to 
do or superintend it, when they become mis¬ 
tresses of a house. 
May I speak a word to these mothers* If 
you desire your daughters to become good 
housekeepers; if you need their assistance iu 
performing the household duties, you must 
systemize your work. M hero there are sev¬ 
eral girls you will invariably find one or two 
(one,at. least) who will shirk, if shirking is pos¬ 
sible. You must look out for these nud see 
that they have their share of the work. 
Let one take the chamber work one week, 
one the sweeping of stairs, halls and parlor, 
another the dining-room nud kitchen work, 
etc. The next week change the order of 
things, so thut each will perform an equal 
proportion of the duties. 
In ibis way the girls may learn to do every¬ 
thing that is to bo done. And not only that, 
each will take a piidu in her work, for she 
will not want her sisters to outdo her in neat¬ 
ness and proficiency. If this planning and 
systemizing is not iusisted upon and carried 
out, the “shirkers” will find many opportun¬ 
ities for getting out of doing certain things 
which they ought to do. 
There are some who seem to be born to float 
along, never taking care or trouble; always, 
without any exertion, coming successfully 
out of any difficulty; while others, who may 
lie far more deserviug, seem to be forever 
bearing other people’s burdens; working faith¬ 
fully, aud getting little or no reward, or, to 
use an old saw, “always coming out of the 
little end of the horn.” 
You will find one of this latter class *iu al¬ 
most every household, and, poor thing, she 
will be imposed upon by all her sisters and 
brothers. If there is any disagreeable task 
to be performed, it will be “Mary’s” lot to 
do it. If the girls are going out to spend an 
evening, and are In a hurry to get ready, and 
the dishes are still to be washed, it will be, 
“ Polly, dear, you’ll do them, wou’t you? It 
never takes you long to get dressed, you 
kuow.” If the Sunday-school is to have a 
picnic and mother wants the little ones to go 
(and she cannot go herself) it will be, “ Molly, 
pet, you won’t let any of the babies get hurt,” 
—“ You’ll see that the children have their 
lunch,”— 41 You’ll see that the baskets are 
safe.” aud the like. But if “Polly” does all this, 
where is her enjoyment coming in? 
To be sure, she doesn’t complain. She is so 
used to it that she, at last, comes to believe 
that it must be right. 
Once, while sitting on a bank resting under 
a shady tree. I saw four or five children run¬ 
ning pell-mell along the dusty road. They 
were all little things, but the largest was a 
boy. I could not, at first, understand what 
the trouble was, but I noticed that the little 
one who was last was struggling with a big 
basket, vainly trying to keep up with the rest. 
“1 won’t carry this basket any more," she 
cried, setting it down in the roadway, “I 
had to carry it this morning and it was awful 
heavy, aud I won’t carry it any more!” So, 
off she trotted after the other children. I 
was amused. There sat the basket by the 
wayside. A cloud of dust hid the flying fig¬ 
ures from view. I began to wonder whether 
they really meant to leave the basket there, 
and not come back at all, when I beard a faint 
sobbing, and turning, saw the little girl who 
had carried the basket comiug back slowly, 
crying us she came 
"What is the matter, little girl?” said I. 
At first she did not seem inclined to talk, 
but finally told me that they lived in a farm¬ 
house a mile or so away, that they went to 
school every day, and that her mamma al¬ 
ways packed that big basket, full of everything 
good she could think of, so that they would 
have plenty to eat for their dinner; that she 
always had to carry the basket in the morn¬ 
ing and in the evening too; that she had tried 
to make the others carry it sometimes, but 
they wouldu’t. 
I asked her why she didn’t tell her mother, 
but she answered. “1 did tell her lots of 
times but she always says 1 cry aud make a 
fuse for nothing; und she won’t listetr tome, 
so it’s no good,” and, picking up the basket, she 
plodded along. 
I felt like thrashing that big boy! He was 
a pretty, manly-lookiug fellow, but I thought 
of what a cowardly man he would grow up to 
be, if he kept ou as be had begun. 
This child, I knew, was one of the burden 
laborers. Reader, have you one iu your fam¬ 
ily? If so, don’t, you think you can help to 
carry some of the burdens? 
I know a family in which there are five 
daughters. The mother, a good, tender¬ 
hearted woman, wanted her children to learn 
all that was good and useful. She was easy¬ 
going and never insisted on anything. She 
would tell the girls to do this or that. Every 
one was willing, of course, but no one was 
anxious. Each waited for the other. Then 
when the thing had to be douo, the best ua- 
tured one did it. So it went for some time, 
till there were only two, and sometimes three, 
who ever did anything at all. The other two 
“shirked.” 
One of these shirkers married and she still 
seems to float along. She has a husband who 
“dotes on her,” and who is willing to pay for 
everything being done for her. Some of the 
others married too, aud, although they have 
good, loving husbands, they are still among 
the “busy bees.” 
Some of those who are among the workers 
are far happier than their selfish, idle sisters, 
but when girls are very young this is not apt 
to be the case. Healthy, merry, happy-heart¬ 
ed girls do not often care or fret because of a 
little labor, but where there are several girls, 
and some of them unwilling to do their share, 
the me on which the burden falls, is very 
apt to have, unconsciously perhaps, a bitter 
feeling towards the others. Then again, this 
bitter feeling may be directed towards the 
mother. She may lie a good mother, too, but, 
being of an easy-going nature, the easiest way 
seems best, and rather than insist ou those as¬ 
sisting who do not wish to, she lets too much 
fall on the willing shoulders. 
These bitter feelings, like evil weeds, grow 
rapidly. Why should she have to do so much 
and her sisters nothing? Are they any better 
than she? 
She is apt to brood in this way till she 
thinks, perhaps, that her mother does not love 
her as much as she loves her sisters—Why? 
Hasn’t she beeu as dutiful as they? 
Sometimes when visitors come, her sisters 
are called upon to entertain them, while she. is 
called to the kitchen to assist in preparing the 
dinner. Or she is sent to wash the children’s 
faces, and put clean pinafores on them. Why 
can’t she entertain visitors as well as her sis¬ 
ters? Are they considered more lady-like 
than she? To be sure, their hands are whiter; 
their finger-tips in perfect order. Thr.ij have 
no “step-mothers;” and she recalls t.he sleep¬ 
less nights she has spent with aching fingers, 
nails broken to the quick by helping shake 
heavy carpets, splinters under the nail by 
scrubbing floors, etc. 
So she broods—while all the time the mother 
is totally unconscious. She never dreams of 
the bitterness and jealousy she is planting in 
her daughter’s heart. In fact, she is really v cry 
thankful because she has one to call upon. 
Many u time she says to herself, “What 
should I do without her?” or “How could I 
over get through if she were like the others;” 
But she never tells the child so. No, that 
might make her too conscious of her own im¬ 
portance and make her vain. But,mothers, it. 
would do no such thing. It would make her 
happy. It would make her feel so glad that 
she was her “mamma’s bejp”—I know whereof 
I speak. 
Then there is another evil which grows from 
this—so small in the beginning! Her sisters 
entertain the visitors; her sisters have more 
leisure to visit, so, of course, must necessarily 
have more dresses. She does not understand. 
Why should they always get everything? 
So it goes as the years pass by. Coldness 
reigning where happiness alone should dwell. 
All this might have been avoided had the 
mother bocn firm in the beginning; beeu 
strict iu allotting the duties to each child, and 
seeing that, each child did her duty. ‘’Share 
and share Alike” should be the motto in every¬ 
thing; housework as well as other things. 
Mothers, you would be kinder to all, if you 
would but spare a little time in trying to read 
and understand your children’s dispositions. 
No iron code, no set law, will do to gov¬ 
ern by, 
GULDEN GRAINS. 
Schiller thought that poetry can be to 
man what love is to the hero. It can neither 
counsel him, nor fight for him, nor yet do auy 
special work for him. but it can teach him to 
bo a hero, summon him to great deeds, and 
equip him with the streugth for everything 
that he should be. 
Buuritt says no human being can come 
into this world without increasing or dimin¬ 
ishing the sum total of humau happiness, not 
only of the present, but of every subsequent 
age of humanity. . 
Nkvicii mujr a craven pilot ut my country’s helm pre¬ 
side. 
Swayed by tnoti longued agitation, taking demagogue 
for guide. 
Truckling to ilu* voice of factions, listening to the 
loudest ery, 
Hanging pressure, measuring noises, what to grant 
and what deny!. .. 
Margaret Fuller says that “people would 
laugh to know bow much remorse I feel that I 
never gave children more toys in the course of 
my life. I am sure if Jesus Christ had given, 
it would not have been little crosses". 
Lord Coleridge advises, never under any 
circumstances, read a bail book; aud never 
spend a serious hour in reading a second-rate 
book. No words can overstate the mischief of 
bad reading. A bad book will olteu haunt a 
man his whole life long. Tt.is often remembered 
when much that is better is forgotten; it in¬ 
trudes itself at the most solemn moments, and 
contaminates the best, feelings and emotions. 
Reading trashy, second rate bonks is a griev¬ 
ous waste of time also. Iu the first place, 
there are a great many more first-rate books 
than ever you can master; and in the second 
place you cannot read an inferior book with¬ 
out giving u]i an opportunity of reading a 
first rate book. Books, remember, are friends 
—books affect character, and you can as little 
neglect any other moral duty t hat is cast upon 
you... 
Domestic Cconomnj 
CONDUCTED BY MRS. AGNES E. M. CARMAN. 
A PHOTOGRAPH HOLDER. 
TnE illustration here presented (Fig. 44?) 
requires little explanation. The foundation 
is of cardboard. The covering, which is divi- 
Fig. 447. 
ded into sections or pockets, may be of one kind 
of goods, or each section of a different sort. 
Braid, embroider or paint the sections as 
fancy dictates. The whole is surrounded 
with a silken cord, twisted at top into a tre¬ 
foil which serves us a loop to suspend it from 
a hook. 
SERVICE QUESTION OF WOMEN. 
I WOULD like to say a few words upon the 
-1 dare not suy “hired girl” question, for 
fear I should offend. Then again, to use the 
word “servant,” may savor too much of the 
olden days of slavery, so in my perplexity J 
use the words of my title, “service question 
of women.” 
During the last 15 years, in which I have 
been mistress of a farmhouse, I have had in 
my employ a number of girls, aud it is prin¬ 
cipally from t .ose that 1 have formed my 
opinions. Most of them were Americans by 
birth, but some were green Norwegians aud 
Swedes. From my own experience, aud also 
from observation, 1 tliiuk the Scandinavians 
are the most amiable, and make the most 
trustworthy and faithful service women. My 
friends tell me that I have had unusual good 
luck in procuring well disposed girls, but I 
urn sufficiently self-conceited to take a little 
credit for my manner of treating them. 
Granting they are well disposed: first, then, 
when my girl arrives, I show her just as much 
politeness as I would to any strange lady, so 
When Baby was sick, wo Rave her Castorla 
When she was a Child, she cried for Castorla, 
When she became Miss, she clung to Castorla, 
When she had Chlldreu. she gave them Castorla. 
