94 THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. FES 9 
menfc there is always some time for rest. Make 
the most of this and learn to do your needful 
work in the quickest and easiest manner. 
“Sweet Pern.” 
CHILDREN’S TREASURES. 
H OTV little a thing will make children 
happy. Their treasures, though value¬ 
less to older, world-weary eyes, are as real to 
them, as our most precious possessions are to 
us. How carelessly we pick some dull com¬ 
mon stone from the mantel and throw it out 
of-doors, with an impatient. “Oh, dear! 
Who put that there?” And presently one of 
the children will run to the mantel, and then 
we hear a wail of woe. “ Who has thrown 
away my pretty stone I got out of the brook?” 
Sure ‘enough, back to those long ago chi d 
hood days go our thoughts, when we too pick¬ 
ed such pretty stones out of the brook, as we 
paddled bare-foot, listening to the gurgle, 
gurgle, of the waters as they ran in and out 
between the rugged banks. 
1 hope vou all have a memory of just such a 
happy childhood as mine—of days when 
mother gave you a little lunch, perhaps it was 
• only a slice or two of bread spread with good, 
sweet butter made by her own hands and you 
went with some favorite cousin or sister or 
brother to the grove where the brook ran 
noisi y through among the trees, and sat on 
the soft green moss, and listened to the birds 
singing, and climbed the low-branched tre°s, 
and made swings of the hanging grape-vines, 
and c ime home tired and happy, lad<m with 
treasures, pre -ions in your ch ldish eyes. And 
if your mother w r as as sympathetic as mine, 
she rejoiced over them, and listened to all 
your little raptures, and romances over those 
squares of lovely green mo.-s, perhaps two 
or three graceful ferns, a shell house of some 
defunct snail, a handful of stones or acu'ious 
ly shaped stick. Oh ! joyous childhood days! 
Though departed, still green and fresh in 
memory, who would not live them over again? 
If we cannot live them again, let us pay the 
tribute to their memory of giviDg to our own 
little ones just such days. 
Mothers don’t be over nice. If the boys’ 
pockets run over with precious stone=, let toem 
have a box somewhere into which they can 
empty those pockets, even if it stands in a 
conspicuous place. It is better in my opinion 
to bend to a little disorder than to wound the 
childish feelings. My little seven-year^-old 
sou had a box all summer, just inside the door 
of my bed-room that opened off the 
dining-room. There was no less conspicuous 
place to keep it in, and although it jarred on 
my sense of order to see pieces of paper, 
strings, stones, buttons, nails, pieces of leather, 
etc., lying on the floor, thrown there by care¬ 
less little hands, I picked them up, emptying 
the box from time to time of such articles as 
would not be missed. I kept a piece of carpet 
to throw over the box when I wanted the 
room to look very tidy. Such little indulgen¬ 
ces will keep the little feet from forbidden 
paths. The boys will not want to keep bad 
company if home is pleasant and if their early 
training is pure Presently when these little 
ones are done with “ earth and earthly 
things,” these little gems bathed in the water 
of life shall shine with an immortal radiance 
that shall never fade or grow dim And in 
the house where there are many mansions 
they will be kept by the Father’s hands, not 
thrown aside as worthless pebbles. 
B. G. H. 
SMOKING IN PUBLIC PLACES. 
I AM writing in a smoking-car on a “limit¬ 
ed ” train on the Hudson River Rail¬ 
road. The passenger coaches are crowded 
and I was compelled either to stand or go 
into the “ smoker.” I am not quite certain 
that 1 have by coming into the smoker chosen 
the lesser of two evils. The point I wish to 
bring out is this: why should a whole car 
needed for regular passengers, ladies and 
children, beset apart to accommodate, say, a 
dozen men whose filthy habits cannot be toler¬ 
ated by the other passengers? What is true 
of trains is true also of other public convey¬ 
ances. The “ gentlemen’s ” (?) cabin on our 
local ferryboats occupies one half of the boat 
and is seldom if ever half filled, while the 
ladies’ cabin is crowded to repletion. During 
the busy hours of travel, ladies and gentle¬ 
men are compelled to stand while the smokers 
have one-half of the boat to themselves with 
plenty of room and a choice of s< a*s. There 
is, however, something providential in this, 
for they would suffocate in the foul air of the 
smokers’cabin if they were crowded in as they 
are on the ladies’ side. Perhaps, properly 
considered, the enforced separation of men 
from their fellows may be like imprisoument, 
a sort of puni-hment for their filthy habits, 
but very few smokers look at it in tuis light. 
It is an ethical principle that no man has the 
right to do things which interfere with the 
happiness and comfort of his neighbors, yet 
that is precisely what those who smoke in 
public do. 
How common it is to see a husband and 
father leave his wife and children in the ordi¬ 
nary coach while he goes into the smoker for 
a “ quiet smoke.” After a time he comes back 
polluted with the foul odors of the “weed” 
and makes his family and neighboring trav¬ 
elers miserable for the rest of the journey. 
If men must smoke, their isolation should be 
complete and they should not be permitted to 
offend others with the disgusting effluvia re¬ 
sulting from their detestable habit. The time 
is coming and I hope is not far distant, when 
the notice occasionally seen in public places 
will be the rule'everywhere: "Gentlemen 
will not smoke here , others will not be allow¬ 
ed to do so." j. h. G. 
GOLDEN GRAINS. 
rpHE UNITED PRESBYTERIAN says 
JL an honest life is always the best one. 
Many men who would scorn to defraud even 
to a farthing’s worth are dishonest towards 
themselves, and live in perpetual treachery to 
their consciences. 
Lytton says that anger ventilated often 
hurries toward forgiveness; anger concealed 
often hardens toward revenge. 
You must work, says Goldsmith; nothing 
is to be got for nothing, and no man who 
chooses to be industrious need be under obli- 
gat’ons to another, for labor of every kind 
commands its reward. 
Ingelow says there is nothing so sweet as 
duty, and all the best pleasures of life come in 
the wake of duties done. 
Ouida says that where we love much we 
always forgive, because we ourselves are noth¬ 
ing, and what we love is all. 
Nothing is so flattering to the feelings of a 
man as the exhau«tless and quenchless regard 
of a sensible woman, and no incense so rich 
can be offered upon the shrine of a wrman’s 
ambition as the avowed and enthusiastic 
affection of a man of genius. 
One day a little girl about five years old 
heard a preacher praying most lustily, until 
the roof fairly rang with the strength of the 
supplications. Turning to her mother and 
beckoning the maternal ear down to a speak¬ 
ing place, she whispered: “Mamma, don’t 
you think that if he lived nearer God he 
wouldn't have to talk so loud ?”. 
In Norwood, Beecher says that fretting is a 
perpetual confession of weakness. It says, “I 
want to and can't.” Freiting is like a little 
dog pawing and whining at a door because he 
can’t get in . 
Talmage doesn’t quote much, and yet be 
believes in it. He advises writers to quote 
from all directions. It is a compliment to 
have breadth of reading so as to be able to 
quote. But be sure to announce it as a quota¬ 
tion. Ah! how many are making a mistake 
in this thing; it is a mistake that a man can¬ 
not afford to make. “Four commas upside 
down—two at the beginning of a paragraph, 
two at the close of the paragraph—will save 
many a man’s integrity and usefulness.”. 
A story is told of an old preacher who ap¬ 
plied at a farm-house for lodging. The sharp 
old lady who came to the door refused to take 
him in. He asked her if she knew wbat the 
Bible said “Be not forgetful to entertain 
strangers, for thereby some have entertained 
angels unawares.” 
“You needn’t quote Bible,” said the old 
lady quickly;“ no angel would comedown 
from heaven with a quid of tobacco in his 
mouth as you have.” The door was shut and 
the preacher unhitched his horse and rode 
away in the rain. 
CONDUCTED BY MRS. AGNES E. M. CARMAN. 
NOW IS THE TIME. 
A S I was waiting for a car at the corner of 
a street some time since, I heard the 
following dialogue between an old man and a 
lad. The lad, shabby and dusty, with his 
hands poked far down in’o the depths of bis 
pockets, stood kicking the curbstone with the 
toe of his well-worn boot as the old man ap¬ 
proached. 
“Hey, lad,” said the latter, “what ar’t do¬ 
ing ’ere? Thee harls’t better be to work than 
standin’ sunnin’ theesel’; don’t thee think so?” 
“ Ain’t'got no work to do,” growled the lad. 
“ Times is drefful hard.” 
“ Does thee expect the work to come along 
and find thee?” asked the old man. 
“ Naw,” replied the boy, giving the curb a 
harder kick than usual, “but ’tain’t no use 
lookin’: I’ve looked everywhere, but there 
ain’t no u c e—they ain't no room fer boys any 
more; might jest as well loaf as not.” 
“ How old be ye?” asked the old man. 
“Fifteen,” replied the lad. 
“ Fifteeu !” said the old man slowly “ and 
givin’ up a’ready, where does thee expect ter 
eud ?” 
“ Don’t know, an’ don’t care much; what’s 
the u-e anyhow r ?” 
The eld man began to give the lad some 
good advice; but as my car was coming, I d'd 
not hear exactly what he said; only I did hear 
him telling the boy how he regretted wasting 
his boyhood. This set me thinking, and these 
old familiar lines crossed my mind as I moved 
along— 
“Never mind the crowd, lad. 
Or fancy your life won’t tell; 
The work Is a work for a’ that, 
To him who doeth It well. 
“Fancy the world a hill. lad. 
Look where the millions stop; 
You’ll find the crowd at the has*, lad; 
There's always room at the top.” 
Yes, (here is always room at the top; but 
how many of us get there! If we waste our 
ea r ly hours of youth, if we let the morniug of 
life go by without an effort, without doing 
our very best,we may be sure that, we’ll never 
stand on the highest point of the hill-top. So 
m <ny of us want to do something great and 
noble: want to be a success in life; but, wh le 
dreaming and longing for the crowning time 
to come, we are letting the golden hours of 
the present glide by unheeded. Like Wilkins 
Micawber, many of us are ‘ waiting for 
sonv thing to turn up;” but, nine times out of 
10, it never will turn up, unless we so to 
work and turn it up. Notv—the present 
time—is all we are sure of. There may be no 
future for us, so let each of us do our very’ 
level Pest to-day. Then, when all the “to¬ 
days” of our life are summed up together, we 
will find we have done our best always. 
To be sure all this is more easily said than 
done: that I know by sad experience, but, if 
we made a mistake yesterday, or make one to¬ 
day, we should be soriy for it of course, and 
try to remedy it if possible, but we should not 
think that because of it, we must give up. 
Each should just say to himself, “I’ll never 
do that again,” and each day’ be sure that he 
docs not 
Sometimes the tasks awaiting us seem so 
many that they overwhelm us. It seems as if 
we could not do them all; well, we cannot— 
all at once. Take one at a time, beginning 
with what seems to you to be the most im¬ 
portant; do it to the best of your ability; then 
go on to the next. A dozen things half done 
won't pay. Better do wbat you do right, 
rather than rush from one thing to another 
and have a lot of unfinished things on your 
hands. 
There! What a sermon I've preached! But 
I do wish I could impress on the boys and 
girls what an important thing it is to do our 
best always. Have I done it? Oh, no! 'Ihat 
is why I am so anxious to have you begin. 
I’ve begun, too. Maybe my best won’t be as 
good as your best, but,if it is my r best, it is all 
that 1 can do. 
Tbe New Year is young yet, and I hope 
each boy and girl (as well as men and women) 
will see if they' cannot make a better showing 
wh n 1890 dawus, than they did with the 
opening of 1889. dora harvey vrooman. 
HOME-KEEPERS. 
S INCE J. H. G. has such really sound views 
on home-life for women.as far as he goes, 
and has so evidently studied his subject up to 
a certain poiut, it seems a pity that he should 
not go further, and give helpful hints as to 
the solution of this problem that confronts: 
the “ proper ” support of the “women folks,” 
of whom there is a great preponderance. Of 
the causes that produce this result we’ll say 
nothing—we will leave that to the medical 
scientists—but we’ll speak only’ of the facts as 
we find them. That can, perhaps, best be 
done by r referring to life histories about us. 
Here is one: 
Years ago there was a family consisting of 
father, mother and three grown daughters, 
well-to do, fairly intelligent, reasonably 
healthy. The daughters were carefully train¬ 
ed in housewifely duties; but taught also that 
it was not proper for women to know much of 
anything else, except a mere smattering of 
accomplishments, so called. Only one matri¬ 
monial offer presented itself; that was from 
the fast son of a dissipated father, but was 
eagerly accepted by the youngest and pretti¬ 
est of the trio, for “mustn’tshe.have.a home 
of her own, and a husband to support her? 
And maybe she’d never get another chance.” 
A few years later the father made some unwise 
investments, lost most of his property, and 
died. The brother-in law who according to 
the legends, should have been a tower of 
strength to this helpless family, proved but a 
broken reed intent only on getting possession 
of the scanty portion left for his wife. This he 
soon spent, then left her to support herself and 
three children as best she could. Her knowl- 
i dge of anything but a housewife’s duties 
was too superficial to enable her to earn a liv¬ 
ing. No family would employ a housekeeper 
who brought three children with her. nor 
would the wages paid secure board and elo'h- 
ing for them. Nothing was left but an orphan 
asylum for them, and kitchen service for her, 
delicately reared though she was, or star¬ 
vation; for huug r knows no sex. nor is death 
a respecter of persons. Pei haps o“e thinks 
her mother and sisters might have aided her, 
but as they kuew nothing of “business”— 
that “ would be so unfeminine, you know”— 
the small property left for them mostly dis¬ 
appeared as agents’ and lawyer’s fees Later, 
one of the sisters inveigled an elderly wid¬ 
ower into the noose matrimonial, and 
entered his home already occupied by two 
“home-keepers,” a widowed sister, and an un¬ 
married daugh'er, for whose support the ex¬ 
widower’s salary was sadly inadequate. The 
mother and remaining daughter still live in 
a tiny house on one coiner of their original 
estate, subsisting partly by doing plain sew- 
iug, and partly by the charity of their neigh¬ 
bors: nor do they think, even, of doing such 
man’s work as bee-keeping, poultry-raising, 
or vegetable growing, though there is with 
their house, a bit of land well adapted to such 
purposes, and they would be healthier and 
happier in out-door work. 
This is a forcible illustration of J. H G.’s 
method of training women to be “home- 
keepers,” as I understand it. Surely these 
women did not “compete with men in their 
occupa ions, and so lessen their wages, and 
the demand for services.” 
Now here is another picture: Two friends— 
teachers—have been house-keeping together 
in a modest way for years. Both are “spin¬ 
sters of uncertain summers”—one of neces¬ 
sity, as she frankly admits than no man ever 
proposed marriage [to her—the other f om 
choice, she having turned away two suitors 
with the curt remark that she “knew that 
neither health, nor her temper would bear the 
strain of domestic life of to-day.” 
These women, thinking as does J. H. G., 
that “there are too many unkempt children in 
our streets for the safety of the nation,” propose 
to do their part toward th“ bett rim nt of things 
by adopting a couple of waifs, a brother a> d 
sister, clothing, and educating them, and giv¬ 
ing them such home trainingas is possibleun- 
der the circumstances. Before this time,they, 
being thrifty women, and very economical, 
bad “put by a bit for a rainy day,” though of 
course their salaries were much less than those 
of their brother teachers beside whom they 
worked daily. So far the experiment of com¬ 
bining housekeeping, school-teaching, and 
bringing up children seems to work well. The 
children a’ e vastly improved both in manners 
and morals, and seem in a fair way to become 
respectable citizens. The boy has a taste for 
drawing, which is encouraged, as, if he has 
talent enough, ’twill make his living by and 
by. The girl has a fondness for whittling 
and for driving nails, and that is also encour¬ 
aged, for, say these guardians, “ women must 
eat, drink, and be clothed as well as men. Our 
girl may find that ultimatum of human happi¬ 
ness, a happy, prospeious home and may not; 
but equipped with so good a bread-w’inning 
trade as a wood-workei ’s,sbe is ready lor emer 
genc es in either single or double life.” In one 
respect the-e children are trained just alike, 
for the-e self-appointed protectors believe in 
men’s rights, as well as women’s rights. Both 
are tauzbt to keep the-r rooms tidy,to sew on 
their own nnssiug buttons, to sweep and dust, 
and otherwise help in doing the housekeeping 
that is all done out of school-hours. That 
boy, at! ast, will not need to say, as Horace 
Greeley is credited with saying, that if Mor- 
monism, including a plurality of wives, ever 
became fashionable in the East, a man should 
certainly have one wile on purpose to sew on 
buttons 
If we believe in a Creator, w’e can’t, of 
course, think theie are any “superfluous 
mining. 
When Baby was sick, we gave her Castorla, 
When she was a Child, she cried for Castorla, 
When she became Miss, she clung to Castorla, 
When sho had (’hildreu, she gave them Castorla 
