432 
JULY 20 
tUomon’s Work. 
CONDUCTED BY EMILY LOUISE TAPLIN. 
CHAT BY THE WAY. 
Whipped Cream is one of our favorite 
summer sauces; we eat it with all sorts of 
fruit and fruit puddings. It is very easily 
whipped, so as to be quite stiff, and may then 
be flavored. If the cream is either too poor 
or too rich it cannot be whipped properly; 
in the former case it will not stiffen, and in 
the latter it turns to butter. We whip ours 
up with a Dover egg-beater. 
* * * 
Whipped or clotted cream with bread and 
honey is a dainty approved by many old 
country people. Thunder and lightning is 
the old Cornish name for this dainty. Clotted 
cream is a Devonshire dish, made by stand¬ 
ing the vessel of milk on the stove, after the 
cream is risen, and letting it scald, without 
coming to a boil. When the cream begins to 
wrinkle the pan is removed; when cold the 
cream is skimmed off, making thick clots. It 
is advisable to stand the pan in another, con¬ 
taining water; otherwise it is liable to burn, 
and this flavors the cream. 
SENSIBLE TROUSSEAUX. 
E VERY GIRL who expects to become a 
bride—and we all expect it, with more 
or less certainty—feels an interest in the prep¬ 
arations for that important change, and yet 
it is a matter concerning which we .'an get 
little definite information. Even the simplest 
trousseaux we see described often exceed the 
allowances of many girls; for example, a re¬ 
cent article on this subject gave the disposal 
of $210; this sum was chiefly laid out in out¬ 
side clothes, the underwear being excessively 
meager, while there was no allowance what¬ 
ever for household linen. The sum quoted 
would seem pitiful indeed to Miss Flora Mac 
Flimsey, but plenty of girls accustomed to 
both comfort and refinement are compelled 
to content themselves with a similar amount. 
The outfit is not shabby, either, but they must 
give the “must-haves” preference over the 
“may-wants.” The possession of a certain 
stock of household linen is imperative—very 
often the lack of this causes the prospective 
bride to decide upon boarding, a very unsat¬ 
isfactory substitute for home life, save in ex¬ 
ceptional cases. 
To begin at the beginning: a girl without 
means of her own—that is to say, one who 
has no marriage portion, who marries a young 
man on a moderate salary—has no right to 
wear an elaborate wedding gown, with veil 
and accompaniments. It is out of keeping 
with her circumstances, although many girls 
forget this. If the wedding takes place in 
the summer she may wear a pretty white 
muslin gown, and the quaint Directoire 
modes are very bride-like in this simple ma¬ 
terial, but in the winter, when a white gown 
means either silk or wool with expensive 
trimming, it cannot be recommended for an 
economical trousseau. Simplicity is best, 
and more befitting to the sacramental rite 
which is so often turned into a purely secular 
festivity. A morning wedding obviates this 
apparent necessity for a white gown, and the 
bride may then wear her best cloth, which 
will be called a traveling gown. 
If our moderately circumstanced bride can 
fford two good cloth dresses and one silk, she 
may surely get along with what she already 
has in her wardrobe. She should try to have 
a dozen of all-muslin under-garments; if she 
has more they will only become yellow in her 
drawers, and she should have half a dozen 
each of summer and winter flannels. Three 
flannel petticoats, two heavy and one light, 
one flannel dressing sacque, and one of mu e - 
lin. Coverings for hands and feet must not be 
forgotten, and get all these things before in¬ 
vesting in tea gowns and all such. For the 
same moderate trousseau get one dozen sheets, 
ne dozen pillow-slips, six table-cloths, two 
ozen napkins, two dozen chamber towels, 
two dozen kitchen towels, two bed-spreads 
(Marseilles) two pairs of blankets, and as 
many quilts and comfortables as money or in¬ 
dustry will procure. A further article will 
give more details of this “setting out.” 
COTTAGE MAID. 
WHAT TO READ IN SUMMER TIME. 
OLIVE F. DANA. 
W HY should we think that we can read 
only stories, and tne lightest of them 
at that, in summer time? And who was the 
wise man who said he would fain match his 
book with the season and the weather? These 
thoughts come as I think of books for summer 
reading. To the first I am conscious that ex¬ 
ceptions may be takeD. Some of us do im¬ 
prove our mid-summer leisure with other 
reading than fiction. And, moreover, there 
seems to be no good reason why that very 
ample leisure should not itself be the warrant 
and opportunity for othpr books, to be perused 
leisurely and remembered long and pleasant- 
lv. 
To the second query, too, I object, in the 
sense of differing.on the ground there is charm 
and force in contrast. Yet there are some 
books which savor so strongly of summer 
fields, and suggest so unmistakably birds and 
bees and blooms, upland pastures and shady 
brooksides, that one turns instinctively to 
them as the bright out-door world opens its 
doors again. First and foremost among such 
books are the works of John Burroughs. I 
don’t wonder that the “Journal of Education” 
has in its editorial columns a plea that teachers 
and other's should learn to “read, know and 
love him.” This genial editor himself nota¬ 
bly observant and appreciative, enthusiastic¬ 
ally says that “John Burroughs is the one 
American of to-day whom the schools should 
know and teach appreciatively and critically. 
He is the one man who balances science and 
literature, nature and human nature, fields, 
forest and studio.” And again. “ He tells 
us what we might have known ourselves, and 
we wonder why we did not see it or tell of it.” 
This last is emphatically time. There are a 
great host who need no introduction to Mr. 
Burroughs as an author; there are doubtless 
many more who may thank the giver of the 
advice alluded to, learning the value of the 
books to which it would fain lead them. 
And following the principle of contraries, I 
would recommend not only “ Pepacton,” 
“ Wake Robin.” “ Locusts and Wild Honey,” 
and “ Signs and Seasons,” with the rest of his 
comely and inviting volumes, but his latest al¬ 
so, which is of “ Indoor Studies,” and has 
therefore a more pronounced literary flavor 
than its predecessors. It seems to me that 
most readers enjoy Mr. Burroughs most when 
he discourses on out-door topics. Yet his vision 
is keen, as well as wide in its range, and the 
critical instinct is strong and the critical fac¬ 
ulty exceptionally well developed in him. 
And these essays are full of interest, often of 
a near and very human sort. Especially in¬ 
teresting is the last, an autobiographical, 
which he names “ an egotistical chapter.” 
Many will regret that this otherwise de¬ 
lightful volume contains that utterance of his, 
“ An Open Door,” which is in its spirit and 
substance so alive to the Christian faith, and 
wonder again at the belief or unbelief which 
made such a production possible, which seems, 
also so unlike the usual animus of Mr. Bur¬ 
roughs’s writings. This aside, the book is, like 
all his works, wonderfully fresh, sane, sound, 
sensible, entertaining, instructive. 
Another book especially fit for summer¬ 
time is “ Emerson in Concord.” It depicts 
the poet and the author as he appeared and 
was at home--as father and friend, neighbor 
and townsman, and so is full of unique inter¬ 
est, and is thought-provoking, as irdeed'every 
echo of Emerson's self must be. There was 
such a solid sub-sti atum of reality about the 
man,and, underlying his most ideal utterances, 
such a permeating leaven of sense in his most 
poetic moods and loftiest flights, that every 
emanation from him is wont to be of an invig¬ 
orating character. And if we sometimes dis¬ 
sent from his conclusions, opinions, convic¬ 
tions, we have been maybe led only to estab¬ 
lish our own on surer basis. The motto at 
the beginning of the volume, taken from Mr. 
Emerson’s own journal, will bear repetition: 
“ I want to tell you something, gentlemen. 
Eternity is very long. Opportunity is a very 
little portion of it, but worth the whole of it. 
If God gave me my choice of the whole planet 
or my little farm, I should certainly take my 
farm.” 
What a boon to book-loving, impecunious 
people is the public library! How much com¬ 
fort comes out of it, and what a large income 
of profit and pleasure returns from the dollar 
or two we spend in yearly fees! Let me 
hope that every Rural reader has such a 
privilege and improves it. 
OUTINGS IN NEW ENGLAND. 
XIII. 
MARY WAGER-FISHER. 
O UR third summer outing in New Eng¬ 
land, was again at Marblehead Neck, 
but only the laddie was with me, Anaximan¬ 
der having gone on a business trip to the 
North Pacific coast. I went with a good deal 
of hesitation to that rock-bound place.'be- 
cause of the lad’s fondness for rocks and 
water, and fear of a thousand possible acci¬ 
dents, not one of vi hich happened, uselessly 
afflicted my worrying capacity. To go out 
in a dory, to swim, to forage around in the 
rocks for crabs, to wade out in the sea for 
star-fishes, to fish and fill the pockets of his 
knickerbockors with what he caught and for¬ 
get all about them until next day, or bring 
them home in his hat, to build on the rocks bon¬ 
fires of drift wood and roast all heard of and 
unheard of sea denizens, and eat them, to 
come in every other day soaking-wet from 
neck to heels, to have rows of stockings, shoes 
and trousers always hung up for drying, to 
buy a new pair of rubber-soled shoes once a 
week regularly for the busy little feet, formed 
a large part of my occupation for those six 
weeks of bliss—for the boy! He had all his 
bottles of alcohol filled with “specimens,” he 
knew every nook and cranny of those mag¬ 
nificent rocks, knew when the tide would ebb 
and flow, and so increased his natural passion 
for boat building, that his den at home has 
long been dubbed the “Navy-yard.” A party 
of young women from Vassar College, inter¬ 
ested in marine studies, were often to be seen 
out in the water, in bathing suits, and with 
their trained eyes, were always finding 
strange and wonderful things, that others did 
not see. One of them had in her room a coral 
plant which she had secured a year previous 
in the water at Nantucket, and it was still 
alive and thriving. She kept it in a glass 
turreen in sea water, and fed it upon bits of 
shredded barnacle, and it was curious to see 
the tentacles open to take in the food. Its 
growth was accomplished by putting forth 
buds. 
The veins of greenstone in the porphyry 
rocks being of a softer texture, had been so 
acted upon by the beating of the surf as to 
be worn away in some exposed places inland, 
to the distance of several yards. When the 
surf was fine the water would rush in these 
narrow passageways with great force, throw¬ 
ing the spray up to a great hight. These 
fissures go by various names—the “ churn ” 
being a favorite one. When the surf was 
fine, the great rocks would be covered with 
people watching the grand sight, and there 
is nothing monotonous in the sight of a rough 
sea. To paint the water in action is the des¬ 
pair of many artists, and I remember one 
young woman who declared to me one day in 
accents of despair: “I cawn't get it! I cawn’t 
get it!” But she continued persistently to 
work at it, for I often saw her afterward, 
working away in the shade of her long- 
handled, white umbrella, which she planted 
directly on the beach. 
The light-house and the light-house keeper’s 
dog, a true Newfoundland as he declared, 
were always objects of interest, the lantern 
on the light-house being invariably run up at 
a certain hour. The dog was long in body, 
very short in the legs, and bore no resem¬ 
blance to what commonly passes for a New¬ 
foundland canine. 
Another point of romantic interest was the 
Fountain Inn well, where one could get a 
drink of water. Agnes Surriage, a very 
pretty girl, was employed as a servant in the 
Fountain Inn in 1742, and one ef the guests at 
the Inn, a young English Baronet named 
Frankland—then Collector of the port at Bos¬ 
ton—saw her and became deeply interested in 
her. She was sweet 16 and barefoot; he gave 
her money to buy shoes and, later on, took her 
to Boston and educated her. She seems to 
have lived with him after that in an illegal 
way, and went with him a dozen years later 
to Lisbon, in Portugal, and was there at the 
time of the great earthquake. Frankland, 
who was out riding with a lady, was buried 
in the ruins of falling buildings. Agnes be¬ 
gan a search for him, and hearing his voice, 
at once tried to rescue him. She raised stones 
and timbers off him with her own hands, 
working like a demon in his behalf, and fin¬ 
ally liberated him. The man, then touched 
by her faithful devotion which bad saved his 
life, married her and presented her to his 
friends in England as his wife, the Lady 
Agnes Frankland. So the story runs, and it 
has been used as the basis of a novel, called 
“ Agnes Surriage.” 
Two or three times we went to Salem—the 
horse-car fare, a distance of 3 % miles, being 
but seven cents, and a charming ride through 
the country fields. It is now a city of 30,000 
inhabitants, and a very pretty one. It has 
one of the most interesting museums, called 
the “ East India,” in the country. The mer¬ 
chantmen of Salem in olden times brought 
back from the East exceedingly beautiful 
things, including the utensils used by the 
Orientals in their work, and these have been 
brought together, with a multitude of other 
curios, forming a unique and extraordinary 
collection. Not far from this museum is the 
house where Hawthorne lived—a plain, brown 
wooden house, directly on the street. TVas 
ever a gifted man or woman born in a fine 
house? Of course, one associates witchcraft 
with Salem, and we went one day to the 
Court-house to see the witchcraft papers, 
which contain full reports of the trials of the 
accused. The original documents are difficult 
to read, but very amusing because of the 
spelling. These papers have all been copied 
in a legible clerkly hand, and both copies 
were placed at our service. I looked over the 
testimony relative to two or three of the ac¬ 
cused—especially (hat of Rebecca Nourse— 
and more senseless, worthless “ testimony” it 
would be impossible to imagine. And yet, 
evidently, the various witnesses related what 
they believed to be the truth! 
Such is the amazing power of superstition 
upon ignorant minds. It seems strange to¬ 
day, that there was not enough common 
sense, and common every-day bravery and 
penetration to have rescued the victims of 
that “ strange delusion,” and I felt astounded 
that day, more than ever before, that human 
beings were put to death on such paltry stuff 
as was offered by the witchcraft witnesses. 
The house in which Rebecca Nourse lived at 
the time of her accusation is still standing, 
and it is nearly 200 years since she was hang¬ 
ed. The frame of the house is ot solid oak 
and the rooms are small and low-studded. 
Her body was brought home after the execu¬ 
tion in the night, and on the following night 
it was buried in the family burial plot near¬ 
by. Four years ago her decendants erected a 
monument over her grave. On the front is 
this inscription: 
REBECCA NOURSE. 
Yarmouth, England. 
1021 . 
SALEM, MASS. 
1092. 
“ Oh, Christian martyr who for truth could die, 
When all about thee owned the hideous lie. 
The world redeemed from superstitious sway, 
Is breathing freer, for thy sake, to-day.”— 
the lines being by Whittier. We also saw a 
vial in which were sealed up a dozen round- 
headed pins called the witches’ pins, believed 
to have been used by the “witches” to tor¬ 
ment their victims. 
GOLDEN GRAINS. 
Happy the man, and happy he alone. 
He who can call to-day his own; 
He who. secure within, can say. 
To-morrow do thy worst, for I have lived to day. 
Be fair or foul, or rain or sliln<\ the Joys 
I have possessed, in spite of fate are mine. 
Not heaven Itself on the past has power. 
But what has been has been, and I have had my 
hour. Dryden 
The Christian Union says that a courteous 
man always predisposes people in his favor; he 
creates everywhere an agreeable impression; 
makes people willing to serve and anxious to 
help him. Many r a man of very ordinary 
mental force has achieved striking success in 
business simply because of the kindliness of 
his spirit and the courtesy of his manner. 
Honesty and ability without courtesy lose a 
good deal of their effectivensss in every-day 
business life. 
There is profound truth In the words of 
Phillips Brooks, “the only way to flee away 
from God is to flee into him.” The only way 
to escape tne worst sufferings and the deepest 
anguish of life is to accept the will which is 
being worked out in us and through us, and 
co-operate with it. 
Age resisted means steady growth in-arti¬ 
ficiality and frivolity; age accepted means 
deepening experience and widening life. 
Someone has said, with the deepest wisdom, 
that the way to get the most out of life is to 
accept completely each stage of it, to drink to 
the bottom the cup which youth and maturity 
and age bold to the iip«, and so to take from 
life all that lies in its hands. 
One of the secrets of successful living is 
the steadiness of aim and the resolution of 
will by which one bends circumstances or 
events to the working out of his own purpose; 
the other great secret of life is hearty, intel¬ 
ligent, and complete submission to its condi¬ 
tions and to all that it brings. 
PbrfllaufouiSf gulvertitfittfl. 
When Baby was sick, we gave her Castor!*, 
When she was a Child, she cried for Castorla, 
When she became Miss, she clung to Castorl* 
when she had Children she gave these ' 
