JUNE 30 
438 
THE BUBAL filEW-YOBiEB. 
ture, so tbat sh“ could talk intelligently to her 
father on the subject absorbing his attention, 
than of one who confined her studies to the 
belles-lettres, in which lie could not take an in¬ 
terest. Too often we see families where each 
one pursues some separate interest without 
any thought of the rest. No wonder that out 
of this mutual selfishness and lack of sympa¬ 
thy a lasting discontent arises. Mrs. Chick 
says, in Dombey and Son, “If I were asked 
what people are born into this world for, I 
should say, to make an effort.” I should 
amend Mrs. Chick, and say we were born to 
sympathize with one another and this sym¬ 
pathy should begin at home, cottage maid. 
A BUNCH OF POSIES. 
s. c. 
They were faded posies, too, and only clover 
blossoms at that, but this wife of many a year 
touched them as tenderly and as lovingly as 
if they had been the rarest exotics. 
“Juck brings me flowers now as regularly 
as he did during the days of our courtship,” 
she explained as she dropped the dead flowers 
into her rose-jar. “Sometimes it is only a 
bunch of daisies, or butter-cups, or clover 
blossoms, gathered on the way home from the 
dopot; ho doesn’t always havo the money to 
buy hot-house flowers, but every Saturday 
night I have flowers of some kind. Somehow 
I fancy it keeps our love young. With every 
bunch of flowers he brings me, I see in him 
again my old-time lover. For a long time I 
dried and kept them all, until the idea of a 
rose-jar occurred to me, and now the odors 
that perfume my room are fragrant to me 
with sweet memories as well. 
It is not so much the things we do, as the 
things we leave undone, that break hearts in 
this world. Many a woman who would loyally 
assuro you that her husband was one of the 
best and kindest, is yet slowly but surely dy¬ 
ing of simple heart-starvation. Just ask your¬ 
self how many years it is since you have told 
your wife any of the pretty nothings that won 
her heart. Was it fair to praise her soft brown, 
or bonnie blue eyes before marriage, and 
afterwards be perfectly oblivious to the fact 
that she had eyes at all ? Pay her one of the 
old compliments, and see if her cheek does not 
blush as rosily as in the old days, although it 
be somewhat faded in your service. 
Being a lone, loin spinster myself, I haven’t 
anything to do except watcli and criticise 
other people, and 1 know quite well that just 
now I am only talking of one side of the ques¬ 
tion; but I shall give credit where credit is 
due. I know of more than one husband who 
keeps up the sweet old ways. I know of one 
who, after a married life of 45 years, kisses 
his wife’s hand as gallantly as ho could have 
done nearly a half century ago. If they walk 
in their garden together, he gathers a rose and 
gives it to her with quaint, old-fashioned 
courtesy. He opens the door for her when 
she leaves the room, and rises to hand her the 
easiest seat when she enters. They have known 
great sorrows, as must needs come to most 
people, but you feel that grief has only driven 
them closer together; even poverty has not 
shaken their love. Whether she be in kitchen 
or drawingroom, this dear lady is still queen 
of her husband’s heart. 
Most women accept too readily whatever 
degree of affection their husbands choose to 
bestow upon them. They make no effort to 
compel a tribute of love by showing how much 
they appreciate little attentions. A woman 
must make herself companionable to her hus¬ 
band, or she will soon sink into the household 
drudge, and if she makes herself such a one, 
she will receive the treatment which usually 
falls to the position. 
FRIENDSHIP. 
A. G. 
“A sudden thought strikes me: let us swear an eter¬ 
nal friendship.” 
Some one has said that friendship has all the 
qualities of love except love’s inconstancy, 
basing the sentiment doubtless on that pretty 
conceit of the poets, who have called friend¬ 
ship “love without the wings.” Certainly it 
is far less apt to fly away, as love has a habit 
of doing. No one except a very inexperienced 
lover, in the first transports of his passion, 
ever dreamed of swearing an eternal love. 
‘•Love is ilower-llkc; 
Friendship u sheltering tree.” 
says Coleridge, and the poets have ever been 
ready to sing the praises of this sentiment, 
with the single exception of Goldsmith, who 
found it only “a shade that follows wealth or 
fame ” There are false friendships as well as 
false loves, but it is only the genuine article 
with which we have to deal; not the give-and- 
take friendships where either party is always 
afraid of giving more than he receives. There 
is a largeness about a true friendship that is the 
direct opposite of such niggardliness. In 
friendship as in love, there are few who under¬ 
stand it in its finest meaning; few who are 
as capable of the quixotism of friendship as 
Henriette Cannet, who wished to change 
clothes with Madame Roland and remain a 
prisoner in her place. 
The friendship that results from living in 
the same house or block, which necessarily 
entails more or less community of interests, 
such as discussing bills-of fare, past or future, 
the latest sweet thing in bonnets, or how we 
shall remodel last season’s gown, is merely 
the result of circumstances, and not friend¬ 
ship at all. “Confidence in the sincerity of 
your friend, and a conviction that ho is great¬ 
er than he seems,” says a writer, “is the true 
test of friendship.” A true friendship is a 
religion, rather than a sentiment. It is be¬ 
yond the influence of dyspepsia or a want of 
circulation, although Sydney Smith says 
“Old friendships may be destroyed by toasted 
cheese.” Only those friendships which are 
the deliberate choice of a thoughtful mind, 
and not the make-shifts of an unoccupied 
heart, are generous and true. 
The love that is not based on, or the out¬ 
growth of friendship, is apt to have a mighty 
uncertain time of it. Look around among 
your friends, and who so happy as those who 
are friends as well as lovers 
“I shall never marry for love,” said a wise 
young cynic of eighteen, “but for money, for 
then I shall know what I am getting, where¬ 
as if I marry for love, I only know what I 
don’t get.” But, alas! riches as well as love 
have a fashion of taking to themselves wings, 
and then what will my fair philosopher have. 
It is neither love nor money that makes the 
world go round. It is work. And it is neither 
love nor money alone that will make the 
happy marriage, unless the love includes a 
sincere and honest friendship, and then if the 
money is thrown in, why it may not do any 
harm. 
GOLDEN GRAINS. 
Parker says that in America every one gets 
a mouthful of education, ami no one gets a 
full meal. 
A deaf and dumb person being asked to 
give his idea of forgiveness, took his pencil 
and wrote: “It is the sweetness which flowers 
yield when trampled upon.”. 
Fortitude is the guard and support of the 
other virtues; without courage a man will 
scarcely keep steady to his duty, and fill up 
the character of a truly worthy man. 
Some men are always looking back to the 
time of their conversion instead of forward to 
their duty... 
This life is like a bale of silk on a loom, 
that winds itself up as fast as it is woven. 
You do not know what the figure is until it 
has been taken off and unrolled; then you 
begin to see what it is. This life weaves; the 
other life reveals. . 
Wild flowers are the alphabetof theangels, 
whereby they write on hills and fields mys¬ 
terious truths . . 
A year of pleasure passes like a fleeting 
breeze, but a moment of sorrow seems an age 
of pain. 
He that hath climbed the rocks can alone 
tell you the secrets of the rough ascent. 
As reasonably expect oaks from a mush¬ 
room bed as great and durable profits from 
small and hasty efforts. 
Prof. Hardy says strong character, like 
strong muscle, comes from activity, from 
warfare, not retreat. 
Virtue consists in making desire subordin¬ 
ate to duty, passion to principle. The pillars 
of character are moderation, temperance, 
chastity, simplicity, self-control; its method 
is self-denial. 
Happy is he who has learned this one thing 
—to do the plain duty of the moment quickly 
and cheerfully, whatever it may be. 
There is often room for much courage of 
speech—courage not so much to maintain 
opinions as to confess ignorance..... 
A certain amount of opposition is a great 
help to a man. Kites rise against tho wind 
and not with the wind. Even a head wind is 
better than none. No man ever worked his 
passage anywhere in a dead calm. Let no 
man wax pale, therefore, because of opposi¬ 
tion; opposition is wtat he wants and must 
have, to bo good for anything . 
Moody says if he could go down to his 
grave and have it honestly written abovo it, 
“He did what he could,” he would rather 
have it than a monument of gold reaching to 
heaven. Do all the good you can, to all the 
people you can, as long as ever you can. 
The Boston Congregationalist tells of a 
young man who, appearing before an examin¬ 
ing committee, was asked how he knew that he 
was converted, “I find it easier to control my 
temper,” was the modest reply. And another 
young map tp wjigm f\ similar question wag 
once put said that he could get along better 
with his employer. 
Ly t man Abbot says if a man builds, nature 
straightway sets to work to undo his build¬ 
ing. Rust eats into the iron and decay into 
the wood, and little by little time ravages and 
destroys. But if a man plants, nature pro¬ 
ceeds to complete bis unfinished work. He 
sows a seed, and behold wheat; be plants a 
cutting, and behold a tree. Such is the differ¬ 
ence between working alone and working 
with God. 
In the Christian at Work we find this excel¬ 
lent bit of philosophy: “Good thoughts, good 
motives, good companionship, are the in¬ 
fluences that mould the mind into a form of 
real and lasting beauty. An impure heart, a 
foul and diseased imagination will discover 
themselves in the outward features, in spite 
of all that art or skillful dissimulation can do. 
And there is nothing more repulsive or hid¬ 
eous to view than a corrupt, sin-disfigured 
character brought into sharp contrast by the 
weak and shallow disguises of cosmetics 
and gaudy attire. Meekness, patience, kind¬ 
ness, charitableness, a self denying spirit— 
these are tho vestments of tho highest type of 
beauty—the kind which commands not only 
the admiration of the best of men, but is ad¬ 
mired by God himself.”. 
Domestic Cc0iX0im} 
CONDUCTED BY MRS. AGNES E. M. CARMAN. 
KITCHEN TALKS. ' 
ANNIE L. JACK. 
‘Oh! “dark side of farming,” I said impat¬ 
iently, “get thee behind me!” The bees 
hummed contentedly as they worked for me; 
the birds sang sweetly as they flitted here and 
there among the trees; the flowers blossomed 
everywhere for me, and the river murmured 
refreshingly: 
Oh land of fields and hillsides! 
Oh vrass so fresh and green. 
With blossoming orchards around me, 
And clover blooms between: 
With heavenly peace and plenty, 
‘‘With milk and honey blest,” 
I Joy In your completeness. 
And say your paths are best. 
When I married, my husband was on a 
rented farm, none the less so because his fath¬ 
er owned it. Seven years afterward a settle¬ 
ment among his family gave him little credit 
for his years of improvement, and put upon 
us a heavy debt to be paid to the other mem¬ 
bers of the family. It was unexpected, and 
would liaye stunned some people; but if we 
had nothing else, we had brave hearts, 
and determined to work together to clear our 
farm. Nowadays I look back in wonder at 
myself, and cannot understand how we had 
the courage to face it, and I think the mutual 
trust in each other, and the encouragement 
we gave each to the other, were more help 
than anything else. So the debt was paid soon 
aftor our sixth child was born, and while the 
eldest boy was only able to do small chores 
about the barn and stable. Since that time 
we have had our lights and shadows; poor 
crops have intervened, and the usual ex¬ 
penses attendant upon a large family have 
been ours; but we have been able to pay our 
debts, and live in comfort. Indeed the actual 
living expenses of our home would cost a 
fortune in a city, for wo are able to bo very 
lavish in our fruits and flowers at all seasons 
of the year, and to enjoy the refinements of 
life as well. Books and pictures, with many 
of the tasteful additions to a homo so dear to 
the artistic-loving soul, have fallen to our 
share, and though we all work, it is with a 
view to improvement in our pleasant home. 
Only one drawback has been a source of 
trouble to us—the inferior schools of the coun¬ 
try, depriving our boys of tho opportunity of 
acquiring knowledge at home. But I do not 
think it is a serious drawback now when I 
see what men colleges and high schools can 
turn out, some of them prematurely old in 
everything but goodness. Then I prefer the 
simple and pure life and manners of my coun¬ 
try boys, who have no time to learn the 
evil of the Tree of Knowledge, and, instead 
of being thankful that our daughters have 
“not married farmers,” I think it is better to 
teach them not to be ashamed of their father’s 
profession, or to take it into consideration. 
Better a good, honest farmer than a specula¬ 
tor; better for our girls to trust the hand of 
a man toil-worn and practical in the needs of 
every-day life, than one who is looking out 
for au easy method of gaining a livelihood. 
There is no "brighter,” happier fife in this 
world than tljat of ^ young couple out of debt 
in a new home, when they can show their own 
tastes in making an Edep for themselves, and 
as years roll by and they have to remember 
when and where each improvement was 
made, it is a source of great and constant 
pleasure. “We planted that orchard the year 
our last baby boy was born,” I sometimes 
say, “and I carried him out when he was only 
three weeks old and put his tiny hands around 
a tree that was named for him there.” “The 
old pear tree that stood here, died the fall our 
baby died.” “We put out a new row of roses 
the j’ear little Ruth came to us.” I say these 
things sometimes to my friends and they seem 
like milestones along our life path. The trees 
that were so discouragingly small have now 
a cooling shadow from the heat of summer 
for us; the children who were so helpless on 
our hands in childhood havo long been able 
to help us, and with each succeeding year we 
strive to give 
“An added beauty to the earth.” 
If children are brought up with simple tastes 
in childhood, they need not become so very 
expensive as they grow up. But the majori¬ 
ty of children nowa-days get so much while 
they are small, and. become accustomed to 
such luxury that there is really nothing left 
for them as they grow older, and they are 
likely to develop an extravagant, discontent¬ 
ed spirit. Contentment is a lesson that should 
be early taught, aud associates should be 
watched, and young people guarded from 
contact with those who are spendthrift or 
careless. Make companions of the boys and 
girls as they grow up; let them know your 
income so far as to see tho justice of any de¬ 
privation: but, as the Rural says, in its wise 
editorial, never get into debt. It is the be¬ 
ginning and end of a farmer’s troubles. Giv¬ 
en a clear farm, good water, willing hands 
and strong arms, and a young farmer is in¬ 
deed a king among men. 
Three things that every hostess should 
avoid: Making excuses about the food, over¬ 
loading the table, and the insisting on guests 
eating more than they really wish. 
A SUNDAY EVENING SUPPER. 
It was an impromptu affair, and wouldn’t 
be worth mentioning, but that it may help 
some sister who is caught in a like emergency. 
We had taken an early mid-afternoon dinner, 
and were counting on an English supper of 
bread and butter and tea. My last importa¬ 
tion from Castle Garden had left me. She 
wanted “liberty.” I only gave her every 
Thursday afternoon, every other Sunday, and 
three evenings a week. I had gone to church 
in the morning, and Charlie—the dear, good 
fellow—had remained at home with the chil¬ 
dren, who were too small to go. He had 
officiated as cook as well as nurse, and so my 
cupboard was more in the condition of Dame 
Hubbard’s than usual. 
The bell rang, and I ushered in a party of 
six friends who just ran in to take me by “sur¬ 
prise,” because they “didn’t want to put me 
to any trouble.” When will people learn 
that surprise parties are to a housekeeper what 
the incursions of the Vandals were to the 
Romans. 
1 have learned the lesson which every 
woman learns sooner or later—of conversing 
with my guests in an intelligible manner, 
while at the same time I am mentally wan¬ 
dering through every recess of my larder. I 
don’t claim that it is au easy lesson to learn, 
or an easy thing to do. There is a mental 
wear and tear about-it that leaves its murk on 
a woman’s face. There wasn’t time for it to 
deeply furrow my brow, for Charlie, who has 
“one man’s wit, aud all men’s wisdom,” said 
in an undertone as he passed me, “Pone and 
Welsh rarebit.” This is one of Charlie’s com¬ 
binations, who, by-the-way, has such a decided 
turn for gastronomy, that had he turned his 
attention to the cuisine earlier in life he would 
undoubtedly have made more money than ho 
ever will by writing books. 
I feel that I am quito at home—“all there,” 
as the boys say—when there is pone to be 
made, having been instructed in its myster¬ 
ies by a real old Southern auntie, who had 
been in the service of Gen. Robert Lee. I am 
one of the cooks who don't measure; I take a 
“handful” which is bewildering to an ama¬ 
teur, so I will try to make my directions as 
explicit as possible. Sift a large baudful of 
flour—you can’t go far wrong on that unless 
your fist is very small, in which case you 
must take two, and in any case you niusn’t 
close your fist, let it be an open-handed hand¬ 
ful. Sift this with four times tho quantity of 
flue meal, and two small teaspoonfuls of bak¬ 
ing powder. Beat three eggs with three 
When Buoy was sick, wc Rave 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. 
