A116. 25 
§84 
THE ByBAL 
come to my mind, when I call at the home of 
a friend of my school days. It seems to me 
that this voice, “ soft, gentle, and low” lingers 
everywhere in this home, creating an atmos¬ 
phere of peace and love that the most 
casual and passing guest must recognize, and 
yet in her girlhood, Mollie’s brothers used to 
say, with the frankness of American brothers, 
“Mollie has a voice just like a nutmeg- 
grater.” Some women fall heirs to a contral¬ 
to voice that is very charming and soothing, 
but Mollie had a shrill little falsetto, as unlike 
her voice of to-day as possible. I spoke to 
her of the change one day, asking her if it 
was the result of a prolonged course of elocu¬ 
tion. 
“ Not at all,” said Mollie. “ I owe it all to 
the children. I soon found that my voice, if 
raised never so slightly, was strident and had 
a harsh and almost cross sound that was often 
not intended, so I determined always to speak 
low. Children catch cross tones quicker than 
parrots. No matter how wearied I may be 
with the petulance of my little ones, I have 
found that I have much more control over 
them if I speak in a firm, low voice.” 
I remember when a child the unpleasant 
impression that was made upon me by the 
mother of a school-mate with whom I went to 
spend a week of the summer holidays. Never 
did I have su3h an uncomfortable week. It 
seemed to me that the strident, angry tones of 
that mother reached even to the beautiful 
woods where we fled for refuge. She was a 
good woman, in the main, I have no doubt, 
and probably loved her children, but 1,shall 
never forget the self-reproach and pitying 
tenderness with which I thought of my own 
mother, patient and hard-working, but from 
whom I had never heard a loud or angry 
tone. The contrast has ever been with me, 
and has helped me in many trying days of 
motherhood. If your children can say that 
they do not remember a cross tone, or an an¬ 
gry word, you will leave them a beautiful 
legacy indeed. selma clabe. 
■■ -■ 
THE COMING CAMPAIGN. 
Oh dear! how I detest a Presidential elec¬ 
tion!" said Mrs. Grey to her next-door neigh¬ 
bor, au elderly matron who had come in to sit 
by the sick baby, so that the poor, tired mother 
could get a little rest. 
“Yes, I do not wonder you feel so. When a 
woman has a politician for a husband she is 
very apt to get tired of the business,” replied 
Mrs. Wheatley, as she gently rocked the 
cradle. “You had better lie down and rest.” 
“Not till after baby has had his medicine; 
then I will try to get a short nap. I did not 
sleep at all last night. It was past midnight 
when Mr. Grey came home, and he had such a 
headache that he had to go to bed,” and the 
poor woman gave a weary sigh. 
“I remember when Harrison’s grandfather 
was nominated, in 1840. Such a time as they 
had with their log cabins and hard cider! It 
seems strange that sensible men will get so ex¬ 
cited and make such fools of themselves. It 
was perfectly ridiculous!” 
“The ladies did not get excited too; did 
they ?” 
“Not so much as of late years. They only 
wore log-cabin breast-pins, if their sweet¬ 
hearts gave them for a present; but they did 
not have political clubs then as now. I re¬ 
member in the campaign when Pierce, of 
New Hampshire, was elected that the ladies 
made flags, but, oh dear! that was a quiet 
time to what they have now.” 
“Mrs. Wheatley what is there about a Pres¬ 
idential election which makes people act as 
if they had lost all common sense?” said Mrs. 
Grey, as she dropped the medicine for the 
sick baby into a spoon. 
“I do not know, I am sure. Sensible men 
get so cari-ied away with enthusiasm that 
they do and say things that they would not 
think of if they were not in a state of excite¬ 
ment.” 
“Mr. Grey said that Edgerton had begun to 
bet again on the election. I should have 
thought he would have remembered his ex¬ 
perience of four years ago so that he would 
not have tried it again. Oh, I was so sorry 
for his wife! They have never got back where 
they were before he had to pay that foolish 
bet, and now he has commenced again!” 
“Yes, he has gone off now to form a Demo¬ 
cratic club in Portsmouth, and the children 
are all down with whooping cough. I 
wonder if the honor will pay his wife for the 
hard times she has taking care of the little 
ones, day and night,” said Mrs. Grey. Mrs. 
Wheatley did not reply, for she was consid- 
iug whether Mrs. Grey knew that her husband 
had left on the cars that morning to go to the 
next county, to assist in forming a Republi¬ 
can club there, and he was as earnest a work¬ 
er for Harrison as Ned Edgerton was for 
Cleveland, so she simply inquired, if Mr. 
Grey would be at home to-night. 
“ He did not know what time he should be 
able to return, as he was obliged to go to 
Beatrice on business. He said before he left 
that if he did not get through so as to come on 
the five o’clock train, I had better ask you to 
come and stay with me to night, if you were 
able to sit up part of the night.” 
“ Ob, yes, I can come, and I will, for it will 
be too hard for you not to get some rest.” 
Baby Grey was a very sick child, and the 
doctor shook his head sadly as he felt the little 
pulse, and asked where Mr. Grey was. When 
the mother told him, he glanced at Mrs. 
Wheatley, and remarked, that he ought to be 
at home; the little one was beyond human 
help; and when he got home he told his wife 
that Mr. Grey was so carried away with 
politics, that he had left a dying baby to go 
to Beatrice to get up a Harrison and Morton 
club, and that such men seemed to have lost all 
natural affection. mrs. s. h. rowell. 
GOLDEN GRAINS. 
Never think that you can make yourself 
great by making another less. 
A single bad habit will mar an otherwise 
faultless character, as an ink drop soileth the 
pure white page. 
He who is capable of making the nicest dis¬ 
tinctions in language is in the greatest danger 
of saying what he does not mean. 
Emerson said it is a part of prudence to 
face every claimant, and pay every just 
demand on your t>me, your talents, or your 
heart. Always pay, for, first or last, you 
must pay your entire debt. 
It is a saying of Horne, that charity is so 
far from impoverishing that what is given 
away, like vapors emitted from the earth, 
returns in showers of blessings into the bosom 
of the person that gave it, and his offspring is 
none the worse, but infinitely better for it.... 
Rutherford says the only cure for indol¬ 
ence is work; the only cure for selfishness is 
sacrifice; the only cure for unbelief is to shake 
off the ague of doubt by doing Christ’s bidding; 
the only cure for timidity is to plunge into 
some dreadful duty before the chill comes on. 
“ This world’s no place fo weaving 
Light webs of fancies grand, 
But for firm will achieving 
High purpose with strong hand. 
Nor dream, nor doubt, but stoutly 
The task that nearest lies 
Perform, and wait devoutly 
On God, who helps the wise.” 
The Christian Union says, when we are 
animated by evil thoughts or unkind desires, 
when we are prompted to revenge a wrong, to 
reproach a failing, to say bitter words, or to 
do cruel deeds, then is the time for delay. 
Then may we well wait, and suffer these bane¬ 
ful feelings to cool and better ones to take 
their place. But if there is any righteous 
deed to be done, any justice to establish, any 
kindness to express, any love to manifest, any 
joy to diffuse, let us hasten to give it form and 
voice, knowing that there is neither time to 
waste nor space to pause in the blessed work 
of doing good. 
Beecher said it is brave work to see men 
pitching and loading hay. We lie down under 
the apple trees and exhort’them all to dili¬ 
gence. We are surprised at any^pauses to 
wipe the perspiration from their brows. We 
are very cool. We think haying a beauti¬ 
ful sport. We admire to see it going on from 
our window! We resist all overtures of the 
scythe and the fork, for we think one engaged 
in the midst of it less favorably situated to 
make calm and accurate observations. 
The best fire in winter is made up of exer¬ 
cise, and the poorest of whisky. He that 
keeps warm on liquor is like a man who pulls 
his house to pieces to feed the fire-place. 
A man is not to be known by how much 
money he has, but by what that money is worth 
to him. You must put your hand into a 
man’s heart to find out how much he is worth 
not into his pocket. 
Barrow says the fruits of the earth do not 
more obviously require labor and cultivation 
to prepare them for our use and subsistence, 
than our faculties demand instruction and 
regulation in order to qualify us to become 
upright and valuable members of society, use¬ 
ful to others, or happy in ourselves. 
The Independent says that some people prac¬ 
tically adopt the theory that they were made 
simply to be taken care of by others, and that 
the chief end of their existence is to be served 
and not to serve anybody. They act as if 
they thought that mankind ought to thank 
them for the privilege of serving them. They 
are useless creatures, and when they die the 
world loses nothing by their departure. 
“ This life is too short,” said a sensible man, 
“to fool away any part of it.” Every young 
person ought to set out in the journey of life 
with this impression, and carry it with him to 
the end. To live is serious business, even for 
this world, and much more so in respect to that 
which is to come. 
The most beautiful church I ever saw—says 
Sanborn—or ever expect to see, until I 
worship in the “ honse not made with hands ” 
—is not a full-grown church; it is only a chapel 
—a small, low building, put up at the expense 
of about a thousand dollars. It is beautiful, 
because the cellar-wall is a free-will offering 
from poor farmers who had a right to claim a 
winter’s rest after the busy harvest season , 
because each timber of the framework repre¬ 
sents hours of hard toil in making aprons and 
holders, by the sale of which to raise a few dol¬ 
lars—hours needed for rest of some mother’s 
weary head and tired hands; because every 
clapbord tells of a pipeful of tobacco less for 
the father ; every shingle, a cup of tea less for 
the mother and the daughter ; and every nail, 
a stick of candy less for the child. It is beau¬ 
tiful in containing an organ, while there are 
no organs in the homes of the givers ! in hav¬ 
ing pictures on its walls, though theirs are 
blank; in its carpeted aisles, while the floors of 
the donors are bare. 
A well-conducted house depends a yreat 
deal more upon the proprietress than upon 
the servants. Here is one proprietress 
with one servant, and the inmates of the 
family are six. Her home is absolutely 
well conducted, neat and orderly . Here 
is another house with the same number of 
occupants. There are six servants. There 
is no orderliness, tidiness or system 
about it. Hoiv is this? Is it because the 
six servants are not worth as much as the 
one, or is it a difference in the administra¬ 
tive abilities of the mistresses ? 
THAT’S THE WAY THE MONEY GOES. 
Towels are used for holders. 
Napkins are used as dishwipers. 
Soap is left to soak in water. 
Clothes are whipped to pieces in the wind. 
Hams and cheese mold and get full of 
“ skippers.” 
Tea, coffee and spices stand open and 
lose their strength. 
Coal is wasted. 
Vegetables are thrown away that would 
warm over nicely. 
Scrubbing brushes are left to warp in 
water. 
. Bits of meat are thrown away that would 
make a good soup or hash. 
A pint, more or less, of dough is left stick¬ 
ing to the bread-pan. 
The cork is left out of the molasses jug and 
flies take possession. 
The extravagant use of butter, sugar and 
eggs in cookery. 
Pails are allowed to sun-dry and fall apart. 
Bread is wasted. 
Tea and coffee made too stong. 
Careless breakage of dishes. 
CONCERNING SELF-SUPPORT. 
MARY WAGER-FISHER. 
Emerson says somewhere, in substance, 
“ Whatever is for thee, will gravitate to thee,” 
which may be true; but there have been other 
seers who believed that the true and sure way 
to obtain a desired thing, was to work for it, 
and win it. There are exceptional good for¬ 
tunes that roll to the very feet of people, in 
the most uulooked for way, that might not 
have been won by life-long attempts. But in 
philosophizing upon life, one must take the 
average measure of things, and not count upon 
special providences. “The gods help him who 
helps himself.” But how to help one’s-self is a 
very serious question with a great many 
people, because they excel in the doing of no 
one thing, although capable of doing many 
things in a tolerable fashion. One of the 
weakest points in labor organizations, has 
been the stubborn effort to equalize the com¬ 
pensation for labor, putting the work of the 
common-place workman on a par, as to value, 
with that of the superior artisan. The man 
who can do his work decidedly better than can 
his fellow workmen, never is in need of the 
help, or protection of an organization, while 
guilds are unquestionably of much service to 
the average man. That women in their struggle 
for a livelihood suffer as much as men, and 
even more from the lack of superior skill in 
work, no one can reasonably doubt. I remem¬ 
ber hearing a party of rich married women 
discussing their probable fate, in case then- 
husbands were to die, leaviug them penniless, 
as constantly happens in this land of changing 
fortunes. The women were all “accom¬ 
plished” in a superficial way as women are; 
they could play the piano, paint pottery, trim 
a bonnet, make a gown, arrange a dinner- 
table with taste, and even cook the dinner; 
but they realized that thousands of other 
women could do these things equally well. 
One of them, finally, with a sudden impulse 
of frankness, exclaimed, “ Well I am sure that 
there is one thing that I could do so thoroughly 
well as to be able to recommend myself, and 
that is to scrub. I can do that better than any 
servant I ever had in the house! When 
my cook leaves in a huff, I go into the kitchen 
and scrub until every thing shines with 
the beauty of cleanliness. I enjoy it, too, 
and when I introduce a new cook into that 
domain, I say with pride, ‘ I shall expect you 
to keep the kitchen and cooking utensils as 
you now find them.’ Of course, she never 
does; that would be impossible,” and she 
laughed gaily at her own self-conceit. Un¬ 
doubtedly, the great majority of women, if 
dealing honestly with themselves, would be 
obliged to confess that if required to earn 
their living by wage labor, they would by the 
limitations of their own abilities, only be able 
to compete with the average workwoman, and 
to command the low payment accorded to in¬ 
ferior work. 
In a little book, lately published by Hough¬ 
ton & Mifflin, of Boston, called “ Gentle 
Bread-winners,” a very fair and just account 
is given of the efforts made by some gentle¬ 
women in impoverished circumstances, to 
work their way up to a self-supporting posi¬ 
tion. Painting, dressmaking and embroidery 
were tried, but the one who succeeded turned 
her brains and her hands to the production of 
extra fine confections, cakes, preserves and 
kindred delicacies. The receipts given in the 
book for these fine and dainty things, while 
being written in a clear and attractive way, 
are of less value than the story itself, which 
inculcates the best of doctrines for success in 
business. It is a good book for a neighbor¬ 
hood library, to be passed round. The dispo¬ 
sition of the rising as well as the risen genera¬ 
tion, everywhere, is to demand high wages for 
little work, and to avoid in labor everything 
that is bard, difficult or “ menial”—success is 
expected to ensue as a matter of good luck, 
and girls evade thoroughness in their work, 
in the expectation that they will find husbands 
to “ support” them. The girl who is thorough¬ 
ly well prepared to support herself, and has 
shown that she is, stands the better chance, 
ninety-nine times out of the one hundred to 
find the husband than the girl of reverse char¬ 
acter. . The comparatively recent introduc¬ 
tion of cookery in the Normal School cf Phil¬ 
adelphia is one move in the right direction, 
for the work is made thoroughly practical 
and the knowledge, so far as it goes, is scien¬ 
tific, from the building of the fire to the tem¬ 
perature of the oven. A girl who can read 
Greek and Anglo-Saxon may have great 
difficulty in finding profitable employment in 
that line, but whoever heard of a woman who 
was by far the best baker and cook in the 
township in want of employment ? As Owen 
Meredith says in “Lucille 
“ We may live without poetry music and art; 
We may live without conscience and live without 
heart; 
We may live without friends; we may live without 
books, 
But civilized man cannot live without cooks. 
He may live without books—what is knowledge but 
grieving? 
He may live without hope-what is hope but deceiv¬ 
ing? 
He may live without love-what is passion but 
pining? 
But where is the man that can live without dining?” 
Neither is it to be inferred that all women are 
to rely upon the preparation of food for a 
livelihood. But I do most earnestly advise 
every young woman, whatever her circum¬ 
stances may be, to learn to do some one thing 
so finely that she can rely upon it as an un¬ 
failing resource in case of need. It takes 
time to perfect one’s self in anything, and the 
wise girl will take time by the forelock and 
When Baby was sick, we gave her Castoria, 
When she was a Child, she cried for Castoria, 
When she became Miss, she clung to Castoria, 
When she had Children, she gave them Castoria 
