682 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER 
OCTOBER 12 
little dead bird for lier winter hat, thereby 
encouraging the men who slaughter them 
and put them on the market. Let our 
sisters of the Rural —a pretty large con¬ 
stituency—determine that they will have 
nothing to do with such cruelty, and, 
following the lead of the Audubon So¬ 
ciety, pledge themselves not to wear birds’ 
wings or breasts, excepting only ostrich 
plumes and feathers obtained from birds 
legitimately sacrificed for food. Consider¬ 
ing how many handsome made feathers are 
from the denizens of the barn-yard, dyed 
and made up, this gives a wide range of 
choice. 
* 
* 
If there is one thing more bewildering 
than the millinery and dress goods at the 
fall openings it is the upholstery. Such 
curtains and cushions and rugs and drap¬ 
ery! New and highly artistic, (occasional¬ 
ly very ugly too), are the Bagdad portieres. 
They are made of a coarse woolen canvas, 
and consist of stripes about six inches 
broad, fastened together with a peculiar 
stitch something like herring-bone. The 
joining is done with coarse worsted, the 
stripes being laid flat, without any. seam. 
Each strip is coarsely embroidered with the 
worsted, in odd patterns something like 
cross-stitch. The strips are of different col¬ 
ors, deep blue, Indian red, orange, brown, 
black and so on. They are really of Persian 
manufacture, and do certainly look Orient¬ 
al, but a good many of them are ugly 
enough for a night-mare. They cost about 
six or seven dollars a pair. Some very 
rich-looking portieres for 15 dollars a pair 
are of heavy self-colored velours, the same 
on either side, in shades of blue or terra¬ 
cotta. Just above the bottom is a border 
about two feet deep, formed of drab cord 
laid in diamond-shaped lattice-work, edged 
with tassels. A row of tassels finishes the 
top. These curtains are very much hand¬ 
somer than the chenille or Turcoman, now 
so common. 
utter strangers to her prior to her wedding 
day, and she has to bear with all their lit¬ 
tle fault-findings about her manner of 
housekeeping, hearing them say many 
times a-day: “That is not the way so-and-so 
did.” She may have to nurse them through 
sickness, or endure their constant childish 
conversation. That, later in life, when the 
children are grown, and housekeeping has 
become a habit, would not be so trying, but 
with one or two babies to look after, to one 
unaccustomed to the care of these tender 
plants, sometimes the burden seems more 
than can be borne, and she is ready to cry 
like Elijah, as he lay under the Juniper 
tree, after his long journey: “Now, O Lord, 
take away my life.” 
Happy is she ! who when the querulous 
voice is stilled, the coffin-lid closed over the 
aged, time-worn frame, can look back to 
what has been, in many cases, unrewarded 
service, and say: “I have done my best.” 
And yet it is sad that the first years of a 
woman’s married life should be given as a 
sacrificial offering to strangers, as they too 
often are. 
As fire refines gold, so these trials of our 
every-day life, if met with the proper spirit, 
tone and refine the character, strength¬ 
ening and drawing out whatever is pure 
and noble in our nature, burning away 
the dross; and the one who floats along 
on life’s sea, with never a ripple of disap¬ 
pointment to ruffle its surface, has no bul¬ 
wark of self-control to hide behind : no safe 
harbor of seif-x-eliance to tarry in while the 
fierce storms of sorrow or disaster sweep 
over the soul. 
To me there is something beautiful in 
overcoming trials, in meeting them patient¬ 
ly day by day, in conquering them instead 
of being vanquished by them; and although 
I may not possess these rare attributes my- 
seif, I admire them in others, whom in my 
feeble way I would try to emulate. 
MOISTURE IN HOUSES. 
chilled by a cooler atmosphere, and that is 
the whole story. The only thing to be added 
is that, when people have thus ignorantly 
or negligently allowed their houses to be¬ 
come damp, they should light fires and dry 
them as promptly as possible. 
MATRIMONIAL INTERFERENCE. 
MRS. S. H. POWELL. 
B EFORE railroads were introduced into 
Vermont, produce was conveyed to 
market by large teams and merchandise 
was freighted back to the country by the 
same conveyances. There were two men 
near the center of the State, who had for 
many years monopolized the business, and 
accumulated a considerable fortune by 
transporting goods to and from Boston. 
They had strong, large, covered wagons, 
and drove six horses each. One of the 
men was married; the other was a jolly 
bachelor, who made friends all along the 
route by his generosity and genial humor. 
One day they were en route for Montpelier, 
and had just crossed the Connecticut River 
into the Green Mountain State. It was a 
very warm day, and late in the afternoon. 
The men were walking by the side of their 
teams, which were slowly toiling up a steep 
hill. Suddenly terrible screams were heard, 
and cries of “ Help! Murder!” issued from a 
shanty a short distance from the main road. 
Osgood was behind and called to Kenney 
to stop. 
“ Oh, come along!” the latter answered ; 
“it’s none of our business,” but as the 
cries continued, the bachelor could not pass 
on; so seizing his loaded whip, he rushed up 
the hill into the house where he saw a man 
beating a poor woman with a heavy club. 
Her hair was streaming down her back, 
and her faded dress was tom, the blood 
streaming down her face. Quick as 
thought, Osgood raised his heavy whip, and 
brought the ruffian to the ground. “ Quit 
that you brute!” he exclaimed. The 
woman caught up the long iron shovel, and 
started for her rescuer. “ Get out of here !” 
she screamed. “What right have you to 
interfere between a man and his wife, I’d 
like to know?” and she plied her shovel 
vigorously to his back, and followed him 
as he beat a hasty retreat down the hill. 
“I’ll teach you to come between a man and 
wife again.” Osgood started his horses in 
a hurry; but he learned a life-long lesson, 
emphasized by Kenney’s jokes—never to in¬ 
terfere in a connubial quarrel again. 
TIME TO GO FISHING. 
GRANDMOTHER. 
T HE Bishop of Vermont was, as a boy 
and young man, very fond of catch¬ 
ing trout in the little brooks that meander 
through his native town. After he was 
consecrated bishop of the diocese, he was 
spending a few days in the place of his na¬ 
tivity, and had a great desire once more to 
indulge in his boyhood’s pastime; but, alas! 
the brooks were mostly dried up, and the 
fish were getting very scarce. Some one 
told him that a Mr. White was a lucky 
fisherman, and knew whereto find the trout; 
so one day he went into his saloon, and told 
that he was a native of the town, and was 
very anxious once more to try his luck 
at fishing, and had been directed to come 
to him, and ask him if he would kindly 
either go with him or direct him 
where he should go, so as to be sure of catch¬ 
ing a good string of trout. White thought 
a moment : “ To-day is Friday, I cannot 
leave to-morrow, anyway, as it is a busy 
day, but I will go with you Sunday, if you 
would like.” “Thank you,” replied the 
Bishop, “but I have an appointment to 
preach at Grace Church on Sunday:” Oh, 
stammered White, “ why did you not tell 
me who you were; but trout do bite Sun¬ 
day, the best of any day in the whole week.” 
“Perhaps so, but it will not be convenient 
for me to go then.” 
“ I see, you are after different kind offish, 
Sir.” The Bishop bowed himself out. 
GOLDEN GRAINS. 
T IMOTHY TITCOMB, ill his “Lessons 
in Life,” says: “I have found moods 
to be poor tests of character. Having cut 
through the crusts of a most forbidding 
mood, produced by bodily derangement, or 
constant and pressing labor of the brain, I 
have often found a heart full of all the 
sweetest, and richest traits of humanity.” 
It is the intensification and the dominant 
influence of moods that are to be guarded 
against or destroyed. 
There is a calm consciousness in every 
soul, however harshly Nature may have 
dealt with the body which it inhabits, that 
it is itself invulnerable—that whatever may 
be the condition of the body, the soul can¬ 
not be injured by physical forms or forces. 
The soil of a social circle is usually open, 
and whatever falls into it produces after its 
kind, whether it be good nature or ill nat¬ 
ure, purity or impurity, faith or skepticism, 
love or hate. 
DAILY" TRIALS. 
B. H. G. 
I T is not the successes, the grand achieve¬ 
ments that make up the every -day ex¬ 
istence in most lives—these are but land¬ 
marks along the way, to which we point 
as rare occurrences—but the little trials 
and disappointments: these come every day 
along with the struggle to overcome self— 
the occasional victory. When we are tired, 
how trials multiply. There are so many 
things to be done at the same time, espec¬ 
ially in a woman’s life. At such times as 
these, how the impatient words crowd up 
to our lips, struggling to get out at the 
little portal w r e must guard so carefully. 
It seems on such occasions that the chil¬ 
dren never wanted so many lunches spread 
or so many toys hunted up, and that the 
men might wait until a more convenient 
season to have their buttons fastened on, or 
even do it themselves. 
Perhaps a great many of our “ daily 
trials” might be escaped, or at least 
avoided in a great measure, by good man¬ 
agement. It may be, in many cases, that 
we do not make our calculations so as to 
get our work out of the way for such emer¬ 
gencies. Probably many of us calculate 
only on time for what must be done, leav¬ 
ing no time for what may come: whereas 
by a little fore-thought or good manage¬ 
ment we could get the duties that are sure 
to come out of the way, and leave room for 
the unexpected. 
I think it is well each day to do as much 
of the next day’s work as we can without 
over-exerting ourselves. There are a great 
many duties properly classed with the 
mornings, that can be done to advantage 
during the afternoon before, such as wash¬ 
ing and preparing vegetables for the din¬ 
ner; also making the pie or pudding, if it is 
to be served cold, instead of leaving the 
work for the hurried morning hours. Of 
course, this cannot always be done, for 
many afternoons are filled with unex¬ 
pected events. 
I often find I can sew more easily in the 
morning. I can run the machine with less 
fatigue, and by getting my morning work 
partly done in the afternoon before, I have 
time to sew in the forenoon, and if there are 
interruptions—unexpected calls or com¬ 
pany to dinner—my sewing can lie by until 
another time, which my house-work could 
not do. There are other trials entirely be¬ 
yond our control—sickness, accidents, un¬ 
congenial companionship, etc. In many 
cases in married life the wife has to assume, 
along with her other burdens, the care of 
her husband’s parents. Perhaps they were 
I T is stated that the sudden changes of 
the weather recently from cold to 
warm and damp, observes the Philadelphia 
Times, has caused thousands of dollars’ 
damage to wall paper and other articles in 
houses. Of course it has, and it is so simp¬ 
ly because many people do not study the 
plainest common sense principles in airing 
their houses. 
One evening lately people went to bed 
with a hunt for extra blankets because of 
the sudden and severe chill in the atmos¬ 
phere. When they rose in the morning 
their bedrooms, parlors, dining-rooms, etc., 
were yet chilly from the cold of the pre¬ 
vious day, while the outside atmosphere 
had suddenly become not only warm, but 
hot and oppressive with dampness. 
Inconsiderate people opened their win¬ 
dows and doors because the weather was 
warm, forgetting that the excessive mois¬ 
ture in the atmosphere would rush in with 
the warm air and swiftly deposit itself on 
the cold walls, furniture, etc., and pene¬ 
trate wall papers, curtains, bedding, and 
everything within reach that presented a 
surface colder than the air that carried it 
into the house. 
Of course the moisture loosened and dis¬ 
colored paper, made curtains as limp as a 
washrag, made beds damp and musty, and 
generally spoiled everything that water 
could spoil; but all could have been avoided 
by following the plain, common-sense rule 
of not opening houses suddenly to sudden¬ 
ly changed atmosphere, carrying an exces¬ 
sive quantity of moisture. 
A pitcher filled with cold water and placed 
in a room in summer will “sweat”—at 
least, that is what it is commonly called. 
The pitcher does not sweat, because it is 
not porous and cannot sweat; but the cold 
water inside of it chills the outer surface, 
and, as soon as the outer surface of the 
pitcher becomes cooler than the atmospheVe 
in the room, the moisture of the air will be 
precipitated upon the pitcher in drops. 
This simple illustration should teach all 
housewives to avoid suddenly opening 
rooms in a house when the outside atmos¬ 
phere is warmer than the temperature of 
the rooms and full of moisture. In all such 
cases the wall paper, furniture, etc., being 
cooler than the outside air, will speedily 
have the moisture of the atmosphere pre¬ 
cipitated upon them, and it will require 
days to restore the house to the dry condi¬ 
tion that is essential to health. 
There are no arbitrary freaks in the laws 
which govern, the atmosphere surrounding 
us, and there is nothing abstruse in master¬ 
ing them. Warm, damp air will ever pre¬ 
cipitate its moisture in houses or elsewhere 
whenever it comes in contact with anything 
Blessings on the man who sows the seeds 
of a happy nature and a noble character 
broad cast wherever his feet wander, who 
has a smile alike for joy and sorrow, a ten¬ 
der word always for a child, a compassion¬ 
ate utterance for suffering, courtesy for 
friends and for strangers, encouragement 
for the despairing, an open heart for all— 
love for all—good words for all. 
K'es are the pangs 
Advancement often brines. To be secure 
Be humble. To be happy be content. 
—Hurdis. 
Going into a village at night, with the 
lights gleaming on each side of the street, 
in some houses they will be in the base¬ 
ment and nowhere else.—Beecher. 
Intimate contact with the nature of a 
good woman, in the relation of marriage, is 
just as necessary to the completeness of 
manhood, as the details of an architectural 
design are to the homely conveniences 
around which they are made to cluster.— 
J. G. Holland. 
To EXPECT a man to be as much of a man 
without a wife as with one, is just as reason¬ 
able as to expect a half-finished house to be 
as beautiful as a finished one. 
0 am fstic (£ con oimj 
CONDUCTED BY MRS. AGNES E. M. CARMAN. 
“Make a little fence of t/rust 
Around to-day; 
Fill the space with loving work 
A nd therein stay. 
Look not through the sheltering bars 
Upon to-morrow; 
God will help thee hear what comes 
Of joy or sorrow.” 
ABOUT WOMEN. 
M ibb grace Howard, eldest 
daughter of Joe Howard, the well- 
known newspaper correspondent, is engag¬ 
ed in mission work among the Indians at 
Crow Creek, Dak. The Indians have named 
her “the good-hearted woman,” because of 
her many charitable deeds. 
* * 
Alice Barber, who has done some very 
clever illustrating for our magazines, has 
been added to the faculty of the Philadel¬ 
phia School of Design for Women. 
* 
* * 
Mrs. Annie Jenness-Miller will make 
an extended tour through the New England 
States this fall in the interest of dress re¬ 
form—the art of comfortable and artistic 
dressing. 
V 
* * 
The lines we give below were written by 
Joseph Wliitton. Editor of “ Table Talk," 
a Philadelphia publication. The subject 
was Mrs. Hettie M. Ogle, a heroine of the 
Conemaugh. When the terrible flood 
swept down upon the city of Johnstown, 
she, with her daughter, bravely stuck to 
her post, thereby saving many lives— 
though she sacrificed her own. As the 
shadow of death fell upon her she dashed 
off her last message which ran as follows: 
“Johnstown, Pa., May 81,—3 P. M. 
To the Cambria Iron Co., Philadelphia. • 
We cannot reach your office. Water im¬ 
mense. Washing out Lincoln Bridge. The 
Pi.sccUancou.o' ^Umti.oint). 
When baby was sick, we gave her Castoria, 
W ben « be was a Child, she cried for Ctmorla, 
When she became Miss, she clung to Castoria, 
When she had Children, she gave them Castoria 
