THE RURal NEW-YORKER. 
we are the God-constituted and sole guardians, and 
which, whatever the claims of others upon us, we 
cannot blamelessly ignore. 
But aside from the moral aspect of the question, 
we owe it to our children to keep our minds In a 
vigorous growing state, and we must do It if wc 
would retain their love and respect. That flllal 
love will withstand, unabated, the strain of mor- 
titicatlon, Is too much to expect of human nature. 
A case In point occurs to me: A young college 
friend, a very worthy young man, recently called 
upon me bringlug with him ills mother. Mow, 
that mother loved her son almost to adoration, and 
there was no sacrifice which her gray hairs would 
have deemed too great to promote ids physical 
comfort. Yet so thoroughly did the mother ignore 
every rule of grammar and etiquette, while her 
conversation evinced an ignorance so complete 
that the afternoon was evidently one of torture to 
the young man, and when nexi he goes calling, lie 
will doubtless choose some more congenial com¬ 
panion or go alone. This mother defers to the 
smallest wish ol' her son, treating him as if he was 
a guest, yet if she had taught him to wait upon 
himself, even, to say nothing of waiting upon her 
and had spent the time thus gained iu selt-lm- 
provement, how much better for the young man, 
and how much more he would have loved and re¬ 
spected his well-informed mother, whom he could 
have regarded with a just pride, than his ignorant 
parent with all her kiudly solicitude for his ptiysl. 
cal well-being! 
In still another sense do we owe self-culture to 
ourselves and to our children. Always pitiful to 
behold Is the Imbecility of old age but doubly pltl- 
iul Is the senility of a mind which has never 
known anythlug but vacuity. To have some sub¬ 
ject outside of our dally routine of life with its 
cares and worries innumerable, lo which we cau 
turn with interest ftnd mental refreshment, Is 
quite worth while on the score of health—and the 
importance of health cannot be over-estimated— 
to say nothing of the resources within ourselves 
which it gives us in time of sickness or trouble. It 
may be said that household cares leave uo time for 
self-culture, and that country lile affords no oppor¬ 
tunities for sell-lniprovcjueut. Let not those who 
llnd time for fancy work, delightful, as it is, and for 
those feminine follies, patchwork bed-qullts, be so 
Inconsistent as to say they have uO time lor sell- 
improvement. Though the writer is not fully in 
sympathy with all that Lrnily Faithful (who has 
so well showu in her own lire what, lemtoine pluck 
and porsevemuce can accomplish) has said, it will 
do no harm to have lur opinion of fancy work : 
“If the wretched little child* play, which women 
call fancy work, could at once be blotted out of 
existence, it would be an Incalculable blessbig. 
What would be thought of a man or grown boy, 
who could deliberately sit down, day after day, and 
be content to kill time by working ridiculous little 
pen-wipers, or bead napkin rings which no one 
ever dreams of using? He would be considered 
and rightly, either a fool or crazy.” 
Smith College, Wellesley, Vassar, Mount Holyoke 
Seminary, and many other Institutions lor our 
sex, are constantly demonstrating that, In mental 
capacity, wc are not il whit the Inferiors of the 
sterner sex. Why, then, should we fritter away 
our time in any less serious employments than 
they? As to lack ul Ume for self-improvement, 
there are many household labors vi hlch are merely 
mechanical, leaving the mind unoccupied, and 
affording lline lor thinking or topics other than 
the work in hand. Well does die writer remem¬ 
ber some November days when the cream would 
foam, ami the butter wouldn’t come, and the hands 
would blister, but lying upon tile churn cover and 
relieving the tedium or me seemingly intermina¬ 
ble operation, was a Lar.Ln grammar, in this way, 
all the rules of syntax were thoroughly' learned, 
and even those Jong lists of prepositions, which 
learners love to skip, will always he at the tongue's 
end, ready to slip oil at a moment's warning. So 
also were many pages of history read, .Mrs. Stowe 
is said to have written portions of ‘•Uncle Tom’s 
Cabin,” of world-wide fame, with her portfolio on 
her knee beside the kitchen stove, in the Intervals 
of domestic labor. 
Ainoug the blessings lor which De Quincy was 
wont to be thankful was that he had “livedin 
rustic solitude." And so it Is, the disadvantages 
of the couutry with its pure air, Iragant seems, 
its sweet singing of the birds and inseei hum, and 
inspiring sounds and sights of Mature, as com¬ 
pared wltli the still lug atmosphere, the hurry and 
turmoil of the city arc not so great, or real, as 
might be supposed. It is not the number of ad¬ 
vantages enjoyed, not tlie amount of knowledge 
acquired, which constitute the different degrees 
of inteiilgeneo ainoug people, II, Is the use we make 
of our advantages, and our wise selection or the 
things we would know, which counts.'- Books 
bring us into ever-renewing communion with all 
that is best and uoblest in the thought of the past, 
the winnowed and garuered wisdom of the ages;” 
yet the question la not bow many books we cau 
read aud study, but how much wo can digest ami 
assimilate, and make a part of 01) t mental fabilc. 
While the writer of this article in perso nally ac¬ 
quainted with; the management of tlie “ Society 10 
Encourage studies at Home,” and lias the fuUest 
commence In its benellcent work, she would say 
to those whose limited tune lorbids their Joining 
that .Society, don't be discouraged. With the 
present low prices or Harper’s publications, and 
those of many other establishments, a little 
extra economy will provide all needed books. 
We all of us think there are some things which 
we cannot afford, and in many families books are 
classed among the luxuries of life, instead of 
among its necessities as they should be. Many a 
house has its piano, utid hundreds of dollars are 
annually expended for music lessons, with no 
other result than a waste of time. Where no 
musical talent exists cveu mediocrity cannot be 
implanted. Except in cases of marked musical 
taste, this money had better be saved, aud a tit he 
of it invested in books would yield much huger 
returns. 
But if there be a bona ffde desire to learn, we 
shall make for ourselves opportunities, and the peculiar fascination that might serve to awaken with the handles the same way, that they may not 
very obstacles overcome will conduce to mental 
strength. Daniel Webster's colossal mind won 
admiration, but it Is said that in ids boyhood his 
reading was sometimes confined to the limited 
range of an old almanac, “ I am always learning,” 
was Michael Angelo’s motto, and It is a good One. 
Always keep the mind on the alert. Mo one can 
say of any department of human learning, here in 
lies all knowledge, for knowledge is as wide as the 
universe. -Of all their faculties,” said Thoreau, 
“many people seem to have found only their 
hands and feet,.'’ so then the completest educa¬ 
tion consists not, necessarily to the fullest ac¬ 
quaintance with the greatest number of books, 
but In the fullest possession of our own faculties. 
Neither college nor schoolroom are indispensable 
to the perfect education. As to books, get a cyclo¬ 
pedia if possible, but, by all moans got a dictionary, 
the larger tho edition the better, of course, but 
even a pocket dictionary is better than none, and 
use If. Whatever you read, read carefully, and 
for every word not perfectly understood, turn 
to t he dictionary. If possible, let uo fact, how¬ 
ever small pass without understanding it, and 
let uo day go by without some new fact gained. 
Keep your books always at hand, and turn to 
them immediately whenever a question occurs. 
Aim to cultivate always a habit, of thought, a habit 
of taking broad, common sense views of things, of 
getting a clear, well defined idea of even the small¬ 
est, subjects. Have you a taste for Natural History? 
To hold communion with the visible forms of Na¬ 
ture and listen to the various languages she speaks, 
Is tho especial prl v liege of the country dweller. To 
be able to recognize, and call by name, the species 
of our leathered friends, as they come to us year 
by year, marking the progress ov the beautiful 
spring season, is a pleasure. Indeed; so also the 
annual reappearance ol the plants and other forms 
of animate nature. Text-books, guiding one un¬ 
aided Into the elements of the various branches of 
Natural History, can now be obtained at from 75c. 
to $3 each. 1 shall not soon forget, the pleasure 
with which a lady friend, compelled by circum¬ 
stances to spend last winter In a lonely Western 
cabin, wrote me of the time thus gained for her 
favorite text-books. 
No, the half-hour now and then from pressing 
household labors should not be taken surreptitious¬ 
ly, as wronging others, but claimed, no matter 
liow much work may press, both as a duty and a 
right. There Is encouragement In the difficulties 
which others have wrested with, and conquered, 
though the history of the obstacles which our own 
sex have met and overcome, is largely unwritten. 
Hugh Miller educated himself for the fame which 
awaited him as author aud geologist, while en¬ 
gaged In the laboilous employment of a stone 
mason. Hr. Hitchcock, of our own country, divine, 
geologist and college president, gained his educa¬ 
tion while followlug the plow. Mary Somerville- 
with few early advantages, thwarted In her own 
an Interest In the botany which you have been 
premeditating for them. 
In attempting to partially solve our problem, let 
us go back further than the thought advanced at 
the beginning. Here are “ wheels within wheels.” 
The chief point Is to succeed in making home an 
objector personal though not selfish, Interest, to 
your children. 
Do you complain that you find no time for the 
culture of the flowers you used to love so well? 
.suppose that to each child Is given a little plot for 
flowers—only as much as can lie cared for easily 
and well—to cultivate individually, yourself now 
and then glvtog a little advice or assistance, if 
necessary, not forgetting the word of deserved 
praise. Perhaps the morning glories would fall to 
your share; they well repay the loving hand that 
cares for them. 
Iu the garden, to each child might be given the 
privilege to choose one or two kinds of plants or 
vegetables to cultivate. Almost any child could 
care nicely for a few hills of strawberries, and find 
more than ordinary delight in the service. But 
whether In yard or garden, let there be an un- 
chageable law that no more shall be attempted 
than can be easily performed—that whatever Is 
doue be well done. 
In many families the principal care of the fowls 
might devolve on the children, and be a pleasing 
task If performed with the understanding that a 
certain number or percentage of the chickens and 
turkeys were to be theirs, to name, t.o pet and call 
their own, and, better suit, to be their very own, 
to sell and invest the precious proceeds In books, 
papers, pictures, a microscope, stereoscope—what¬ 
ever serves to Instruct, amuse, and to Invest home 
with new Interest and charms. 
Thought aroused, and love will seek out, many 
ways hi which parents may bless their childrens’ 
lives. Rightly blessed, the blessing redounds, 
through ail the after years, to the parents' owu 
peace and happiness. But, clear mot,liens, “Except 
the Lord build the house, they labor In vain that 
build it.” Except the “.Spirit- of Christ” be In our 
hearts and homes, they lack the vital elements of 
true peace and blessedness. 
Again 1 urge, beautify home in its appointments 
and surroundings. Having awakened the enthusi¬ 
asm of your children, and secured their willing co¬ 
operation In the work, you have done much, very 
much, toward making a pleasant, home for them. 
Anri one of your greatest aims In lire should be 
that to your children no spot on earth may be so 
dear as home. 
OVER-WORK. 
CLAIKK. 
Now that the warm days have come and still 
are coming, I earnestly enter a protest against I 
over-work. Let the tired farmer s wife, if she 
get greased, for It is not everybody who has water¬ 
proof knife-handles. Remove all things not, to he 
emptied; particularly sweet things. In fly-time. 
For eonveu'ence small jars should be used In put¬ 
ting up fruits, for if preserves and pickles be re¬ 
turned to the Jars, they arc likely to ferment; if 
left in open dishes, they will dry out; nor are the 
dishes, in their daubed condition. lit to be placed 
upon tho table again. Then, on common occa- 
lons, set the jars. In which tho fruits were winter¬ 
ed, on the table, and save yourself the trouble 
of dipping to and fro. cooking over fermenting 
fruits and washing dingy' glass-ware. Walt for 
some grand j'rte. when your best glass and sliver 
may glisten with splendor undimmed by too fre¬ 
quent use and careless washing. 
Having removed the fruits to their accustomed 
dark shelf iu a cool closet, remove to the spring- 
house or refrigerator, in covered dishes, all the 
vegetables which will make a rums for the coming 
morrow. Smoot h over the mashed potatoes Into a 
mass tu one end of the dish, in the morning slice 
and rry brown, in hot grease, for breakfast. Cut 
up the scraps or cold fowl or beef (or both), and 
biscuit for hash. The remains of corn, beans, bute 
ter, cream, or milk and bread may gu together for 
succotash or gumbo, for to-morrow's dinner, or, 
the same with tomatoes, chopped potatoes and 
squash, added, will make a Brunswick stew for 
breakfast. Bread crumbs, bits of butter, preserves 
and milk, with fresh beaten egg, will make a nice 
Eoonomy pudding for to-morrow's dessert—most 
vegetables. If kept cool, are better the second day 
of cooking. If there Is not ( line for chopping or 
preparing, place all the Ingredients for each mess, 
together, and set in a cool place; scrape the plates 
Into a bucket kept for chicken feed, stack an^l 
slide to the right hand corner of the table where 
the pitchers, glass and silver have already been 
plac 'd by the help. Have a dish-pan lull of boil- 
ing-hot water and a mop made by tying thread 
around a wooden handle, (old fringe, now obsolete, 
from counterpanes, makes good ones) ; when the 
silver has been washed, add soap and wash those 
things containing least grease—first: turn them 
up on a waiter or salver, on the left side to drain, 
while t he help rubs briskly with a dry linen towel, 
(old table-cloths or wearing apparel make good 
ones) till they receive a brilliant; polish. This must 
be doue while the dishes are hot rrom the water. 
When done, wash the oil-cloth or table with the 
greasy dish-water, wipe dry and carry out the wa¬ 
ter, empty It inro a kettle on the stove, wring the 
mop and stick It up to dry, wipe the pan and hang 
It on the wall, and when the kitchen things have 
been washed and scraped (a clam shell makes a 
good scraper), pour the top of the water Into the 
chicken bucket on the stove, the remainder into 
the slop jar. 
■ - - 
CORRESPONDENTS’ CORNER. 
efforts at solt-culture, free to follow the bent of her 
natural tastes only alter she became a widow, 
made herself a name and fame, for great mathe¬ 
matical and other attainments, it was one of Mrs. 
Somerville s works of which it, was salcl that not 
more than four men In Franco could follow lt.s pro¬ 
found reasoning. Nature has not fii ted us all, nor 
could we all expect, if we would, to he fame's 
favorites. But when we see wUat seemingly In¬ 
superable obstacles others have overcome, we may 
well take heart. Culture Is within tlie reach of all, 
and If we persevere, our efforts will conquer re¬ 
ward. 
But mental culture is not the only one requisite 
(or a noble character, there Is a culture of the 
heart, of the humanities of life, which must ac¬ 
company it. We need to eradicate from our char¬ 
acters the remains of tho savage, the almost 
imperceptible inclinations to take advantage by 
word or deed of others—the little foxes as Mrs. 
Stowe calls them—and to replace them by the 
broadest, catholic charity and sympathy. Nature 
has many beam I ml features often so charmingly 
combined as to form the perfect landscape, and 
even In the Invisible atom the microscope reveals 
beauties which language Is too poor to portray; 
but the most beautiful thing of all, Is the sym¬ 
metrical huma n character. 
WHAT SHALL BE DONE WITH THE 
CHILDREN ? 
GLADDYS WAYNE. 
One Important point Is to Interest them. Wheth¬ 
er It be work or play, once succeed In awakening a 
lively interest and more than half Is accomplished. 
And let us bear In mind that even the amusements 
of children must, bo otten varied; sameness seems 
as inconsistent with their nature as Is a life of con¬ 
finement to the free bird of the forest,. Tbls Is 
true ot all children. But It Is of the country chil¬ 
dren, more particularly, that I now speak to the 
mothers. 
With the advent of spring, the amusements and 
little rouud of duties that served to render enjoy¬ 
able tho winter days and evenings, become irk¬ 
some. Nature is waking from her ice-bound sleep ; 
every enfranchised nil, each springing blade and 
swelling bud, each opening flower, the gladsome 
notes ot wildwood birds, sunshine aud balmy air- 
all the mysterious Influences of earth and air and 
shy—call to us, “Come forth.'’ 
Often more wise In their instincts than we, In 
response to the alluring call, every lad and lassie 
forth will go, unless the “ bolts and bars” of dire 
command or stern necessity Intervene. And as 
the season advances, the more time spent out-of- 
doors, so that proper discrimination In regard (o 
the weather, etc., be exercised, the better. Then 
let them be encouraged tu all in none at out-door 
occupations and pastimes. Do not forget that 
“ all work and no play” makes a dull life tor any 
child. 
In spring-time, many an object of Interest may 
be found m nature’s newly revealed treasures. 
The pleasant search for early wild flowers has a 
values health, happiness and longlife, make her 
work now as light as possible. No need ot spend¬ 
ing the •• tong, weary day’, In unnecessary labor. 
Fluid I ted you how we manage to get our work 
done la the toreuoou, never keeping a fire after 
dinner until tea time? 
There arc seven In the family making no allow¬ 
ance for company or extra help In hurrying times. 
There are two of us, to do the dish washing, 
baking, washing. Ironing, sweeping and to care 
for the milk of six cows, the eighth member of the 
family, Nero, doing the churning. One of us gets 
up In tho moralug at five makes the kitchen Qre 
gets the breakfast, puts the beds airing and straUis 
the milk. The other works the butter, skims the 
rnIlk and does the baking If necessary, while the 
dishes are washed the steeping rooms put in order, 
and the vegetables prepared for dinner. After 
the dinner is eaten, dlsbes washed, kitchen put in 
order, nothing more Is done until tea time, and 
everything requiring time, being made ready In 
the morning, bur, little fire Is needed to bod the tea¬ 
kettle. Washing day, one ot us goes to washing 
as soon as breakfast Is over, while the other 
washes the dishes, and does the rest, of the house¬ 
work, so there Is no more confusion or disorder 
that day, than any other, and the dinner Is just 
as good. 
if the tronlug Is large, It Is done In two forenoons 
Instead of tailing all day, the baking being done 
at the same time. Perhaps we don't have the va¬ 
riety of food, that mu' neighbors do, hut we never 
have poor oread, always make yeast, bread and 
have It baked by nine In the morning. We sel¬ 
dom have hot cakes or biscuits for supper, take 
our puddings and custards cold, have cold meats, 
Balads, home-made cheese, and never a pie when 
there are fresh, strawberries or fruit of uny kind. 
We don't profess model housekeeping, i here are 
many things a critical eye would see amiss In our 
household but I have learned from dear exper¬ 
ience that there is often “ luck in leisure” aud that 
over-work means a call from our family doctor. 
It Isa very good thing to remember, (hat It Is only 
required of us to do that which we are able to 
perform. There Is always another day coming 
aud when health and comfort are to suffer In 
consequence, it Is better “ to leave until to-mor¬ 
row” something that could be done to-day, 
We bring' no tired, cross, heated faces to the 
table and enjoy our meals just as well If we have 
not a great amount of dainties, the preparation 
of whloh, takes so much time and strength. We 
find it very pleasant in the cool sitting room or 
under the shade of a tree and with sewing or a 
book, we almost forget there ever was a hot 
kitchen, or a “ weary woman.” 
HOW TO CLEAR AWAY THE DINNER 
THINGS. 
MRS, M. L. SAYERS. 
There should be two persons—and here chil¬ 
dren’s help comes In admirably. The help must 
must move around the table with a waiter, and 
take up the knives and forks, placing them all 
WILDWOOD FLOWERS. 
The following’ poem is sent in response to an inuuiry 
in the “ Correspondents’ Corner." 
The flowers that 1 sa w in the wildwood. 
Have since drooped their bountiful loaves, 
And the many dear friends of my childhood, 
Have slumbered for years in their graves. 
But the bloom on the flowers T remember, 
Though their smiles I may never more see, 
For the cold, chilly winds of December. 
Stole my Sowers, my companions, from mo. 
The roses nviy bloom on the morrow, 
And tho many dear friends I have won; 
But my heart can ne’er part with sorrow 
When X think of tho ones that are gone. 
It’s no wonder that I'm brokenhearted, 
Or stricken with sorrow should be 
We have met. we have loved, we have parted 
My flowers, my companions, and me. 
How dark looks this world, and how dreary. 
When wo part with the ones that we love; 
But rhere, is rest for tho faint aud the weary. 
And friends meet with loved ones above. 
But in Heaven, I can but remember. 
When from earth this proud soul shall be free. 
That no cold, chilling winds of December, 
Shull part my companions, and me. 
Sheltonville, Ga, e. p. r. 
Montgomery, Ala., June 7,1S79. 
Rural New-Yorker : In the Rural New- 
YouKKKOt .Tune 7,1 read, under the head “Vari¬ 
ous,” the statements of church property and ex¬ 
penses of maintenance of worship, under the 
voluntary system, In the State or New York. Now 
It strikes me that you are thoroughly oblivious of 
the fact, that there Is another Christian Church In 
the state ot New York, and that stranger* who 
visit that. Stole must, be better informed than the 
managers of ihe Rural Nkw-Yobkbr. isawa 
vast Cathedral in the city or New York, in which 
It would he possible to put half a dozen of the 
largest churches of the B,3?o you enumerate. Per¬ 
haps ten times as many worship dally tu Its walls 
as are ever Included on Sundays tn the walls of the 
6,320. There are at least 30 others In the city of 
New York, and those who built your railroads and 
canals have constructed hundreds of others in the 
State. You sec the cross and the keys or St. Peter 
at every village and station, and yet, when writ¬ 
ing the statistics of Christian Churches, you omit 
all mention or them: Perhaps you do not consider 
them Christians? They may not pay as large 
salaries to the clergy as some of those you specify, 
bul. they furnish a much larger proportion ot real 
communicants than any or all of those you name. 
Please publish this to your paper, to which I am a 
subscriber, aud if you can find a uathofic almanac 
in the city of New York, add the statistics and 
compare with those you publish. 
Henry C. Semple. 
The number of Homan Catholic churches In the 
Archdiocese of New York, comprising the city and 
county of New York and the counties south of the 
forty-second degree north latitude. Is 150. The 
Catholic population of those counties about 000 , 000 . 
We cannot find a record of the number of the 
communicants,—[E ds. 
