CCT 27 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
handled with a horse-fork and still be all right. 
A farmer told of it at one of our institutes; 
but I cannot now remember his name. He 
lays some heavy planks across the bays from 
beam to beam, near the middle of the barn, 
and dumps the hay from the horse-fork on to 
these planks. A man stands there, and, while 
the fork has gone down for more, pitches the 
hay off into the bay below, one way and the 
other. In this way alj packing in the middle 
of the bay is prevented, and still one uses the 
horse-fork to do the elevating. Our friend 
had put up large quantities in this way and 
found it kept even better than when the clo¬ 
ver was unloaded by hand, directly from the 
load, because then the man on the bay tramp¬ 
ed more in one place than by the new arrange¬ 
ment. Those who have had trouble with 
their clover hay, where they used ahorse fork 
in deep bays, where it had a long way to fall, 
can see at a glance that this simple device will 
obviate all such trouble, with very little extra 
labor. 
Summit Co., O. 
IDflmmt s Work. 
CONDUCTED BY EMILY LOUI8E TAPLIN. 
CHAT BY THE WAY. 
The powers that be in the millinery world, 
have ordered that this is to be a winter of 
ostrich plumes—a rather saddening piece of 
information to women with small purses. 
Large hats are trimmed with them very elab¬ 
orately—they are very graceful, but also very 
expensive. The large hats are round, with 
rolling brims, the crowns much lower and 
squarer than last wiuter. The crown is en¬ 
circled with feathers, either a long plume, or 
a wreath of tiuy tips; at one side a bunch of 
tips is left drooping over the edge, sweeping 
down over the hair, after the style seen in the 
old-fashioned Gainsboroughs. Sometimes the 
hat is lined under the brim all the way round 
with feathers, making a very soft frame for 
the face. This style is seen in large poke 
shapes. 
* * * * 
There are very pretty little round hats and 
turbans. The turbans are, for the most part, 
quite flat, and are covered with velvet or 
plush, laid on in miraculously stiff folds. The 
brim is often covered with a fancy silk or 
metallic galloon. Stiff feathers or aigrettes 
are laid rather on the crown than the brim, 
on the left, side pointing forward. One of the 
prettiest and most popular round hats for 
general wear is something like the popular 
Alpines worn last winter; the chief differ¬ 
ence being the crown, which is a high thimble 
shape. This is trimmed with a ribbon band 
and a large bow on the left side, close to the 
front. These bows are made of ribbon two 
and a half inches wide; they consist of six 
loops, and three ends, drawn in very tightly in 
the middle, making a very round, puffyliow. 
The loops are put pointing up and down on 
the hat. There is a great deal of art in mak¬ 
ing these bows; the same style is used in all 
millinery. 
* * * 
All the large dealers tell us that young 
women will not buy short wraps this winter; 
they are left to the elders. Long tight, or 
half fitting garments are most fashionable for 
the youthful sisters. Ulsters with capes are 
worn, but they are last year’s style. This 
winter the new coats come right to the 
•bottom of the gown; often there is a flowing 
cape-like sleeve inclosing a tighter one. 
Many of these garments are very elaborately 
braided. One long tight coat of garnet cloth 
had loose sleeves, and was elaborately braided 
in black. In the back it was open to the 
waist, and this opening was bordered with 
Alaska sable. The same fur trimmed the 
front. Another garment in cadet blue was 
decorated in similar style. 
* * * 
Every autumn we see an epidemic of 
beaded wraps, a garment both useless and ex¬ 
pensive: very often unbecoming, too. It may 
add a finish to a jet-trimmed gown, but worn 
o^er woolen, as it often is, it is most unsuitable. 
A great many girls in moderate circumstances 
think they must have, a beaded wrap as soon 
as their finances allow it, because it is hand¬ 
some and dressy; as a rule, it swallows up a 
lot of money without any adequate return. 
During some very chilly October days we 
counted bead wraps by the dozen in the shop¬ 
ping districts of New York, and as a rule, the 
wearers looked half frozen. These garments 
are heavy, without giving any actual warmth, 
and as a woman can’t raise her arms while 
wearing one, we really can’t give the garment 
much praise for utibty. According to Mr. 
Ruskin. its inutility prevents it-from even 
being beautiful, 
A BIT OF DINAH’S WISDOM. 
“1 do believe I have a touch of neuralgia 
through my shoulders" said I, shrugging those 
members as I spoke. 
It seems to me they never ached quite so 
hard before.” 
‘‘It’s far more likely a cold, missus ’’answer¬ 
ed the colored woman who washes for us, 
looking up from her dinner as she spoke. 
“A cold, Dinah? I don’t rerntn her any op¬ 
portunity I have had to take a cold.” 
“Perhaps you don’t she replied, “but I do. 
Don’t you remember just before dinner, when 
you had been a standin’ over the hot stove for 
mor’n two hours, a puttin’ your bread in the 
oven, watchin’ it, an’ a takin’ it out agin, cook¬ 
in’ the dinner, an’ jest as you was in the mid t 
of smashin’ the pertaters, an’ jest as warm, an’ 
damp, as you could be, in runs, Johnny all in 
a flutter. A big pickerel is by the bridge in 
the water, an you must come right away !” 
“Out you ruo. You did put on y< ur bun- 
nit, but not a thing around you, an’ off you 
put to the bridge. Georgie met you an’ seized 
onto your skirts, a runniu’ after you, a lookin’ 
for all the world like a little boat tied onto a 
yacht. How I did laugh! An’ there you 
s ood, full five minutes, onter that bridge, 
boldin’ Tommy on the railin’, an’ the wind a 
blowin’ a gale around you both. I don’t won¬ 
der missus’ you think you’v got neuralegy.” 
The good woman’s words were true. I did 
remember lifting the little fellow to the rail¬ 
ing and supporting him there, while he 
watched the pickerel lying quietly in the s wift 
running water below, seeming to know as 
well as we did, he was quite safe. 
The men were yet in the hay field, and the 
gun was standing in the stairway, which was 
kept for shooting pickerel that occasionally 
stopped on their way up the stream, to rest iu 
the shadow of the bridge. This was one of 
the excitements of the summer season, in 
wnich the younger, as well as the older 
members of the family joined; and when 
Dinah called the incident back to my mind, I 
well remembered that as i held the baby boy 
of the household up to watch the great fish 
lying motionless below us, the fresh wind that 
blew the tangled golden curls over his healthy, 
dust-grimined little face had chilled me 
through, and through. 
“You are quite right, Dinah,” I said; “ it 
was then I took my cold. I trust I may never 
be so foolish as to run out in that way again.” 
“I hope so, too, Missus,” she answered, as 
she left her unfinished meal to come and rub 
my aching shoulders with her strong baud 
uutil they felt all aglow. Then bidding me 
heat a piece of flannel, “flanuin,” the good 
soul called it, and wrap it over my should¬ 
ers and pin it tightly across my “chist,” she re¬ 
turned to her half eaten dinner, while I sat 
down by the kitchen fire, knitting in band, 
and as I helped the bright needles run their 
monotonous rounds, I recalled to myself the 
times when heated from cookiug, 1 had run 
out in the same unthinking way; perhaps to 
attend to some household duty, and more than 
once at the call of a passing friend, “who had 
not time to come in; was in a fearful hurry, 
and could only stop a moment.” But as we 
talked as women do, “the moment” with 
others was lengthened into perhaps a half-hour i 
when, startled, she would take her leave, with 
many exclamations of dismay at the time 
wasted. 
And I, would flee back to tbe kitchen, and 
my unfinished tasks, thoroughly chilled, and 
later in the day I would find myself saying 
“I do believe I feel neuralgia coming,” when 
iu fact ’twas a cold from my own impi udence. 
And thinking this I resolved, hereafter to 
keep something hanging convenient, no mat¬ 
ter as to its color, shape, or texture, so that 
it answered the place of a wrap, when needed 
“Feel better—Missus?” inquired Dinah 
emerging from the dining-room. 
“Much better Dinah, thank you” I answered 
adding. “I think I have learned wisdom 
from experience.” 
“I hope you have,” the good woman said 
solemnly, as she resumed her washing. 
Later in the afternoon we went together, 
Dinah and I, into th6 orchard, where, scat¬ 
tered over the soft plowed ground, lay the 
early fall apples—great golden fruit with 
cheeks turning rosy iu the September sun¬ 
shine, I to gather an apronful for cooking, aud 
she, to fill a basket to carry home. With my 
forenoon’s experience yet fresh in my mind, I 
threw a shawl around me before starting. 
And Dinah taking from its nail my great dish¬ 
washing apron, spread it over her ample 
shoulders, remarking in her quiet matter-of- 
fact way, “I alius’ feel a litle chilly like after 
I’ve been a washin’.” “Let me get you some¬ 
thing warmer Dinah,” I hastened to say. “No 
missus’, she replied, “this ’ere apern is all I 
want. You don’t begin to know how comfort- 
able-Uke an apern is accross your shoulders.” 
“When I goes a berryin’ in the summer, I 
alius ties one on jest for that purpose. You’v e 
been a-berryin’ I don’t doubt, haven’t you 
missus’?” 
“ Been a berrying !” Back flew memory 
to childhood years, when a merry troop of us 
(laden with baskets and pails,) would follow 
the long lane leading to tbe pasture fields, ly¬ 
ing in the shadow of “old Schunnemunk/’— 
fields dotted here and there with patches of 
blackberry bushes, that in their season yielded 
uncounted measures of great juicy berries. 
One patch in particular—a cluster of bushes 
nestled under the hill iu the old side hill lot— 
was ever a favorite spot of ours, for there the 
berries were the thickest—and I recalled one 
day in particular when 1 sat down by a well¬ 
laden bush to gather the fruit by handfuls that 
a lithe, slender black snake sprung from 
among its leaves into my lap. Ugh ! Tne 
chill that ran through me at its touch; all 
Dinah’s heated flannels could not for the 
moment prevent it. It was only accident of 
course, for the bewildered reptile gliding over 
my shoulder, disappeared instantly, winding 
its way amid the tall grass. 
1 did not tell all this to Dinah, I only said, 
“Oh; yes, I had gone berry-picking many 
times when a child and during girlhood.” 
“An’ don't you remember,” she continued, 
“that when you were a pickin’ in the hottest 
place, an’ all damp an’ perspirin’, a south 
wind would come a-sifein’ across, suddent- 
like, a-ch.llin’ you through an’ through?” 
Yes, 1 had noticed that. “Well, then, I jest 
whips off my apern,an’ ties it snug over me. Its 
jest as good, an’ fur more handy than a shawl 
that’s alius in the way when you don’t need it. 
An’ when you do, like as not >ou’ve left it 
a bangin’ way behind you on a stump.” 
“Verily” said I as 1 made my way to the 
orchard, “Dinah is far wiser in her genera¬ 
tion than I.” a farmer’s sister. 
ASPIRATIONS IN HOMESPUN. 
SEVENTH LETTER. 
Pickling and preserving, and scrubbing 
and house-cleaning, and making over old 
gowns—that is our autumn work. We busy 
country women have hardly time to see how 
—“ the maple turns to crimson. 
And the sassafras to gold.” 
Autumn is even busier than spring, but the 
short winter days are coming, when the 
burden of work is somewhat lightened, aud 
the sociable evenings begin. At least, they 
ought to be sociable. It Is the season when a 
working family ought to enjoy the home 
circle, by entering into each other's pursuits 
and indulging in some innocent amusements. 
Perhaps one of the pleasantest home amuse¬ 
ments is that of reading aloud. The books 
chosen sbould be such as all can ap¬ 
preciate; they sbould of course be in¬ 
structive, but not so stiffly, and ob¬ 
viously instructive that the younger mem¬ 
bers of the family cannot enjoy them. Good 
books of travel are especially suitable for this 
purpose, and when accompanied by a good 
atlas they are more instructive. Stanley’s 
“How I Found Livingstone” is of absorbing 
interest; so is Vincent’s “Land of the White 
Elephant.” Gordon Cumming and Sir Sam¬ 
uel Baker have written fascinating narratives 
of African travel; Baker’s “Ismailia” will 
possess additional interest for the girls, as tbe 
explorer was accompanied by his devoted 
wife. Isabella Bird has written some clever 
narratives of her travels, which are delightful 
reading, “Unbeaten Tracks iu Japan,” and “A 
Lady’s Life iu tbe Rocky Mountains.” Lady 
Florence Dixie is another globe-trotting Eng¬ 
lishwoman, who has written some lively 
sketches in “Across Patagonia.” This list 
might be extended indefinitely. 
Now, I must confess that I love good fiction 
some of my most delightful evenings have 
been spent in company with a good novel. A 
good many do not believe iu novel reading, 
and would protest against such works being 
read aloud. I wish some of these objectors 
would read Chai'les Dickens’ “Cricket on the 
Hearth,”or “A Christmas Carol.” I think it 
would remove some part of the objection to 
fiction. Charles Dickens’ works seem special¬ 
ly adapted to family reading; they deal so 
much with the simple virtue of domestic life, 
and they are essentially clean and pure-minded. 
And while travel, history, aud biography 
may form the staple of family reading they 
should be supplemented by an occasional 
sweetmeat in the form of good fiction. 
COTTAGE MAID. 
. ■> ♦ ♦ 
GOLDEN GRAINS. 
Paul said to his friend Timothy : “ For I 
know in whom I have believed, and am per¬ 
suaded that he is able to keep that which I 
have committed unto him against that day.” 
He who can say this from the heart has no 
occasion to be afraid of death, or of anything 
that awaits him in the life after death. 
Emerson says that in a sensible family no¬ 
body ever hears the words “shall” and 
“shan't”; nobody commands and nobody obeys 
but all conspire and joyfully cooperate. 
The Journal of Commerce remarks that 
tbe fault is not in plans, in combinations, in 
systems, in methods, but in men, and the true 
reform is to reform men and make them God¬ 
like in character and life. This task, too great 
for those who have fallen, requires an Al¬ 
mighty Helper, and this is freely offered. This 
is the genuine home rule. When every man, 
through the proffered aid, has come to rule 
his own passions and to restrain his own de¬ 
sires within proper limits the reform will have 
been reached, and there will be no more cor¬ 
ruption under any plan of action or govern¬ 
ment. In tbe meantime (and we commend 
this thought especially to our anonymous 
friend as well as take it to ourselves) let us all 
study more attentively the spirit of Poor 
Richard’s advice, “ Let every one mend one 
and tbe world will soon be mended.”. 
Doing any one thing well—even setting 
stitches and plaiting frills—puts a key into 
one’s hand to tbe opening of some other quite 
different secret; and we can never know what 
may be to come out of the meanest drudgery. 
The certainty that a man can enjoy the 
fruits of his toil is the stimulus to all produc¬ 
tion, enterprise and prosperity with the indi¬ 
vidual and the nation. 
All are but parts of one stupendous whole 
Whose body nature Is, and God the soul. 
The great trouble with man is not a lack of 
opportunity, it is the need of a disposition to 
improve tbe opportunities he has. 
Ideals make blessed discontent; not mur¬ 
muring, not repining, but aspiration. A love 
for that which is better is divine in man. .... 
In our last issue, we called attention to the 
sweepstakes premium at the Vermont State 
Fair being given to butter colored with 
Thatcher's Orange Butter Color. This is the 
case at hundreds of State and County fairs 
this year, and no butter-maker can be sure of 
the highest standard without it. If you are 
not now using it try it at once.— Adv. 
CONDUCTED BY MRS. AGNES E. M. CARMAN. 
Seek not to be shrewdy be not ashamed to 
be called simple. 
FOR THE IN-DOOR WORKER. 
HEALTH points. 
Take regular baths. 
Keep your feet warm. 
Ventilate your sleeping room. 
Diet when not feeling first rate. 
Try to avoid becoming chilled through. 
Don’t stay in close, over-heated rooms. 
Regular out-door exercise must betaken. 
Never stand in a draught, particularly 
when heated. 
Don’t run out bare-headed or without tnick 
shoes or rubbers on. 
Be particular as to the food you eat, care¬ 
fully avoiding that which does not agree with 
you. 
It is a temptation to eat while cooking but 
it is an indulgence that will surely ruin your 
digestive organs. 
Strong tea, few care for it weak, taken two 
or three times a day, is indisputahly a stomach 
aud nerve weakener. Many women when 
meal time comes around, not feeling hungry or 
being too tired to enjoy food, buoy themselves 
up with a cup or two of hot, strong tea and 
declare that they feel wonderfully refreshed. 
But reaction is sure to follow and then look¬ 
out for tongue pricks, tears, moods, or whirl¬ 
winds. 
When Bauy was sick, we gave 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 Csstorle 
