THE RU8AL fJEW-YOBKEB. 
SEPT as 
do—slide along the opening, confining Ihe bag 
in the middle, and a pretty ribbon bow is on 
one of these rings. 4. cheap and pretty bed¬ 
room duster bag in this shape is made of 6cru 
lace-striped scrim, lined with pale blue silcsia, 
it has brass rings and a bow of pale blue rib¬ 
bon. Another, more elaborate, is of tan color 
pongee, with a band of brown velvet across 
each end. The velvet has a design couched on 
it in gold cord; gilt bangles are sewn along 
each end. The riogs are gilt, and there is a 
bow of brown and tan ribbon. It is so easy to 
make these bags with millinery odds and ends, 
and they are so very convenient in any room. 
These purse-shaped bags are often thrown 
across the back of a chair, or they may be 
hung in some angle of the room. 
HOW TO SUCCEED. 
“Diligent in business; fervent in spirit; 
serving the Lord.” A young friend of mine, 
who was early called upon to fight his own 
way through life, was given a Testament by 
his pastor with the above text written on the 
fly-leaf. It seemed to be the turning point in 
his life, for he had not been a lad of strong 
purpose. He began by earnestly living up to 
the first clause. Employers were not slow to 
recognize the difference between a boy who 
made his appearance at the office in the morn¬ 
ing half an hour earlier than was strictly nec¬ 
essary, and who remained at night until every 
task was conscientiously done, and one whose 
only thought seemed to be that his employer 
should not get a minute more of his time than 
he was actually obliged to give him. He 
wasn’t one of your brilliant boys, to whom 
everything comes as a matter of course; every 
new acquisition was gamed by hard study. 
He worked just as hard when his employer 
was absent as when he sat at his desk. 
Don’t think that if you give the requisite 
number of hours to [your employer you have 
done your whole duty. He has a right to 
know that you spend your time profitably out 
of office hours, and he will soon know it if 
you do not. If night after night you pass 
your evening hours, yf not actually in bad, 
then in trifling and indifferent company, you 
are worth just so much less to your employer 
during the day. 
“We prefer to employ lady clerks as far as 
possible,” said the manager of a large business 
house. “A lady is always on hand the day 
a er pay-day; sue never sends word that she 
has an inflamed eye, and can’t fill her place 
for a few days;” at least, if such a thing 
should occur we would know that the inflam¬ 
mation was real , and had not been acquired 
in a street fight.” 
The lad of whom I spoke above, recently 
went to a large type-writing agency and 
short-hand bureau in search of a situation, 
having given up his position in a distant city 
in order to reside in New York. He wasgiven 
the address of a large business house, after 
being asked whether or not he smoked, chewed 
or drank. Upon being answered in the nega¬ 
tive, the clerk said: “They will have to take 
you, for you are the only stenographer who 
comes to us who can say “no” to those ques¬ 
tions, and Messrs. - will not employ a 
man unless he can, and unless he can also give 
a satisfactory account of the way he spends 
his evenings and Sundays.” He secured the 
position without trouble. In all that great 
city of New York, where there are hundreds 
of applicants for every vacancy, he had not 
a single competitor. 
If you are known to “serve the Lord” it 
will be no drawback to your advancement in 
business, although I would not suggest that 
you should serve the Lord from any such 
motive. That would not be serving the 
Lord. 
Your employer may smoke himself, may 
even take a drink, but in ninety-nine cases 
out of a hundred he would prefer that his 
clerk did not follow his example. You may 
argue that a light cigar and a light drink are 
not in themselves great evils, and that you 
know many splendid gentlemen who drink 
wine at their dinners and smoke their post¬ 
prandial cigar. Nevertheless these habits are 
the handling of coals that will blacken you, 
aye, and burn you, too, if you are not saved 
by the grace of God. “Every man who takes 
a drink,” said Col. Hadley, a great temper¬ 
ance and mission worker, “is a possible drunk¬ 
ard.” It is from the “light driuKeis” that the 
great army of drunkards is recruited. If you 
neither drink nor smoke you will have little 
temptation to go to places which are given up 
to these occupations. s. c. 
A CHAPTER ON FIRES. 
Please give me a little space in your esti¬ 
mable paper to “ say my say ” about fires lor 
health and comfort. 
How many homes there are thesi chilly 
September days, where there are no fires, in 
any room in the house, except the kitchen. 
That is warm—too warm—but the rest of the 
house is as damp as a vault. A caller steps in 
for an hour’s chat, and sits shivering in her 
wraps. Her feet grow cold, and colder. 
Gradually the chill creeps up her limbs, and 
extends over the whole body. The lady of the 
house comes in clad in a thin dress, perhaps 
just from some duty which has called her 
attention at the kitchen fire. She is warm, 
and perspiri ng. She greets the visitor polite¬ 
ly and cordially, while there is a fear tugging 
at her heart that she will get her “death of 
cold. ” She closes the door leading from the 
culinary department carefully after her, so 
that no odor of cooking and consequently no 
possible ray of warmth can penetrate 
to the company-room, which has 
not seen a fire since early last 
spring when the coal stove became op¬ 
pressive. In that chilly and cheerless room 
the two ladies sit and make polite remarks to 
each other, both wishing that they were sit¬ 
ting, one on each side of the kitchen stove, 
with their feet in the oven. Thus they spend 
an uncomfortable half hour together, and the 
visitor takes a hurried leave, hoping to get 
warm in the sunshine, while the entertainer 
hastens to her kitchen, congratulating herself, 
as she hovers over the fire, that the caller 
stayed no longer. 
Now I think that in this changeable climate, 
there should be in every house all summer 
long, a wood stove in some room, where com¬ 
pany can be entertained. Of course, it looks 
warm on a hot day to see a stove up and ready 
for use. But it looks and feels a great deal more 
uncomfortable on a wet, cool day not to have 
one, and there are many damp days even in 
August when a fire is a real necessity. 
In the summer-time I keep a stove in the sit¬ 
ting-room for company, but I also keep one 
in the dining-room for our own use when 
alone, and make a fire there every cool morn¬ 
ing and evening, leaving the windows open for 
air. Some houses are more damp than others. 
I know of one where the family are royal en¬ 
tertainers: but I always dread to call there in 
the summer. The last time I called was on a 
cool, damp day in July. Knowing how damp 
the house would be I wore woolen hose, a flan¬ 
nel skirt and a heavy flannel dress and carried 
a small shawl to throw around my shoulders. 
I wore my shawl all the time I was there and 
wished it was a double one, and that 1 had 
worn two pairs of hose. I was chilled in the 
pleasantly furnished sitting-room, shivered in 
the parlor, where my feet rested on lovely 
tapestry carpet and 1 sat amidst velvet furni¬ 
ture, lace curtains, glittering chandeliers, and 
grand piano. Rheumatism seemed to lurk in 
those soft velvet chairs; pneumonia to clutch 
at me with spectral fingers from behind the 
curtains, while sore throat and neuralgia 
hooted in my ears in every note I drew from 
the piano. Had there been a stove, no matter 
how rusty without, if it bad only glowed with 
warmth within, how lovely all th< se sur¬ 
roundings would have been. As it was, I 
would gladly Lave gone out and sat in the 
kitchen. b. h. g. 
HOUSE-FURNISHING. 
What must we start with ? 
How much, or how little, we need to begiu 
housekeeping with depends more on our means 
than on our desires. The kitchen counts for 
so little, >et ibe articles needed thereiu are al¬ 
most bey ond counting. Some little time ago 
the N. Y. Times published a useful article tell¬ 
ing about an interview with a great house-fur¬ 
nisher, in which all the articles required in a 
small home were enumerated with their prices. 
According to this, the kitchen furnishing would 
amount to §50.22, and this included, stove, 
washtubs, oil-cloth for floor, refrigerator, 
and every needful cooking vessel, even to mus¬ 
tard-spoon, skewers, nutmeg-grater, cake turn¬ 
er, spice-boxes, and all the articles we are apt 
to forget iu making a general estimate. 
The dining-room, according to the same 
authority, would cost §88.50, not including the 
sideboard. 1 his included dinner set, tea set, 
carpet, a few trifles of ornament, some table 
linen and table utensils, in addition to the 
furniture itself. Few newly married people, 
however, find it necessary to buy much in the 
way of ornament, so long as the rather over¬ 
done practice of wedding-presents continues, 
and as a rule the bride has her own linen so 
this need not be included iu the furnishing. 
For the bed-room, the estimate given is 
$75.41. This includes a $30 set of furniture, 
china, ebromos, etc., and also two sets of bed 
linen, which again should be considered as 
part of the bride's trousseau, instead of com¬ 
ing under the head of furniture. 
The parlor is estimated at $94.89. It has a 
Brussels carpet and a suit of plush-covered 
furniture, costing $45, which is rather an un¬ 
necessary expense. 3ince elaborate suites of 
furniture are now out of style. Have, if you 
will, two or three chairs alike, but odd little 
rockers and splint willow or rattan chairs are 
in better taste. 
This estimate gives, for these four necessary 
rooms, an expense of $309 02. It would make 
a very simple little home, but there is no rea¬ 
son why it should not be both cczv and attract¬ 
ive; that all depends on the taste of the 
presiding genius. cottage maid. 
GOLDEN GRAINS. 
The good man’s life, like the mountain-top, 
looks beautiful because it is so near to heaven. 
The Louisville Democrat says if you 
want to go to heaven when you die, you had 
best start now. 
Wherever I find a great deal of gratitude 
in a poor man I take it for granted there 
would be as much generosity if he were a 
rich man. 
Marion Harland says a certain strain of 
nobility of character is needed to enable one 
to see without envy the better fortune of his 
neighbor, even though that neighbor be also 
his friend. It sounds absurd to declare that 
success is not sinful in itself, but it is a truth 
many never learn, or if they believe, never 
practice. 
The Church Press says when daily life is 
to do the will of God, no disappointment is 
possible; neither can failure come in. Step- 
by-step following is the most quieting, disen¬ 
tangling thing in all the world. 
When a man is too busy to laugh he needs 
a vacation. 
You may take the greatest trouble and by 
turning it around find joys on the other side. 
It is true that no bad man is ever brought 
to repentance by angry words, or by bitter, 
scornful reproaches. He fortifies himself 
8gainst reproof, and hurls back foul charges 
in the face of his accuser. Yet guilty and 
hardened as he seems, he has a heart in his 
besom, and may be melted to tears by a gen¬ 
tle voice. Whoso, therefore, can restrain his 
disposition to blame and find fault, and can 
bring himself down to a fallen brother, will 
soon find a way to better feelings within. 
Pity and patience are the two keys which un¬ 
lock the human heart . 
The Independent reminds its readers that 
the greatest boon possible on earth Hornes to 
the soul when it finds rest in God. The celes¬ 
tial life then begins as the foretaste of what 
awaits that soul in the life to come. There is 
no earthly sorrow which this boon will not 
mitigate. All nun need it, and all must have 
it, or be strangers to real rest. God himself 
is man’s only restmg-place. 
CONDUCTED BY MRS._ AGNES E. M. CARMAN. 
THE PICNIC I DIDN’T GO TO. 
(CONCLUDED ) 
“And so you want to know how the ‘good- 
est’ chocolate cake was made,” said my 
friend, the lady from Boston, as I appeared 
tablets in hand. “ Well, it is so cheap a cake 
that your readers are sure to think it can’t be 
good. Indeed, it is only good when fresh; 
but for a luncheon cake, or for the picnic bas¬ 
ket, to be eaten the same day it is made, it is 
really a very nice cake : Cream one cup of 
sugar well with a piece of butter the size of 
an egg ('eggs are of such different sizes,’ you 
say), then take a heaping tablespoonful, or 
two ounces; add two beaten eggs and a 
cup of sweet milk; one and two-thirds 
cup of flour through which two good tea¬ 
spoonfuls of baking-powder have been sifted 
completes the batter. Bake in jelly tins, and 
for the filling take half a cup of grated choco¬ 
late, one cup of sugar and three tablespoon¬ 
fuls of milk or cream; let it heat slowly iu a 
little saucepan, and when it boils stir in a 
teaspoonful of corn-starch wet with cold 
milk. Simmer until it thickens. Spread be¬ 
tween the layers. The cream filling is made 
with any quantity of sugar, say one cup, and 
one-third the quanty of boiling water. Boil 
seven minutes; remove from the fire; pour 
into a cold bowl, and stir always one way un¬ 
til it cools and {granulates. Spread at once 
over the cake.” 
[boiled ham. 
Turning to Mollie’s recipe book, I read : “A 
little experience and a good deal of judgment 
are necessary aids in using the resources of 
the.purse for kitchen purposes.;” but after 
all is said and done, your own experience is 
what you need more than that of any other 
person, and given the experience you will 
soon acquire the needful judgment. I find it 
a good plan to take other people’s ideas and 
work them over to suit myself ; so after I 
have given you the recipe for boiling a ham, 
which I have altered from that of a mighty 
cook, you may change it as seems good to you 
—mayhap improve on it. but if you do, may 
I be there to taste. (Slight adaptation of 
‘John Gilpin’).” 
“You must have a ham of excellent quality. 
Scrub it well to remove all grime and salt; 
cut away any rusty or discolored portions 
from the under side: soak in hot water for 
one hour; remove the outside skin or rind, 
and then boil it—not in champagne, nor yet 
in water, but in sweet cider.” 
Here I pause to exclaim, but Mollie silences 
me with the remark, that after this fashion 
was the ham boiled which I have so enjoyed 
the past week. 
“I can quite imagine the sarcastic smile 
with which the conservative housekeeper will 
greet this unorthodox mode of boiling a ham,” 
says my bonnie housekeeper; “but I only ask 
a fair trial. It isn’t very cheap unless you 
live in the country and have your own cider, 
and it will quite spoil you for a ham cooked 
in the ordinary way. Lay a bunch of fresh, 
sweet, and if possible new hay in the bottom 
of the kettle; upon this lay the ham, and 
cover with sweet cider; bring to the boiling 
point, and set where it will boil slowly and 
steadily. Allow twenty minutes to the pound. 
Lift out, lay on an inverted sieve to drain fur 
a few minutes; sprinkle the top thickly with 
sifted breadcrumbs mixed with bro>vn sugar 
and set in the oven for five minutes. You must 
know the saltness of your ham, and if it is 
likely to require it, soak it for several hours 
before removing the skin. 
“The only trouble with a ham boiled in this 
way, is th it if your liege lord comes to re¬ 
gard it as the concomitant of a picnic, he is 
likely to insist on more picnics than you will 
care to cater for.” 
“Auntie,” and the saucy profile of Leila 
Sweet appeared at the open door. Only pro¬ 
file, for the shy ej es were averted—“Ned and 
I are going blackberrying; shall we take 
Charlie?” 
“Thanks, dear child, but I want Master 
Charlie at home with me this morning; run 
along and don’t get over-heated,” and this 
match-making little lady gravely asked me for 
her recipe book, and began searching for 
something in a brown study. 
“May I ask what you are looking for?” 
asked I, “and when am I to be permitted to 
finish this picnic article?” 
“I wanted to make sure that I had a good 
recipe for wedding cake,” said Mollie, with a 
smile. “You know Leila is an orphan and 
prefers to be married from Farmlie, rather 
than from the home of her grouty old guard¬ 
ian, and I, my dear Dodo, am to have the 
honor of making the cake.” 
“And, now, suppose you tell about these 
biscuits. They are very nice, although a 
little extravagant. Sift three and a half 
pounds of flour into a wooden bowl; make a 
cavity in the center and stir in slowly a pint 
of lukewarm milk and half a pint of jeast, 
using just enough of the flour to make the 
batter of the consistency of pancake batter. 
Cover and let this stand until light—two or 
three hours will be sufficient in warm weather. 
Melt half a pound of butter in one pint of 
warm nnlk, let it stand until just lukewarm, 
and with a tablespoouful of salt, work it into 
the rest of the ingredients; knead as for 
bread, dust the top with flour, and let it stand 
another hour. Roll into sheets and cut into 
biscuits; butter baking pans and lay in the 
biscuits two inches apart; set in a warm place 
until light and bake. They are very nice 
cold or hot. 
Wafers. These are much better than any you 
will buy, and will not cost you half so much. 
Sift and weigh two pounds of flour, and rub 
through it a quarter of a pound of butter; mix 
with sweet milk into a dough stiff enough to 
roll out very thin. Cut into small round 
cakes, and roll these again as thin as they can 
be handled. Lay carefully in a bake-pan, and 
bake very quickly. They should hardly be 
thicker than a sheet of good writing paper.” 
“Do you know, Dodo” began Mollie. “I 
When Ba»y 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 
