725 
THE RURaL NEW-YORKER. 
No. 1 . 
The Modus operandl is given at No. 1. and the 
completed pattern at No. 2. Tnls is a very pretty 
substitute for ordinary styles of crochet work. 
PIN TRAY. 
For the bottom of the tray eight pieces of card¬ 
board are used cut *> diamond shape.” Four of the 
pieces are covered with pale pink silk and orna¬ 
mented with embroidery in light blue floss as 
No. 2. 
shown at No 5. The remaining pieces are plainly 
covered with blue silk as per No. 4. The rim of the 
tray is crotcheted after pattern at No. s. and the 
whole is finished with bows of mixed pink and 
blue satin ribbon. 
No. 4. 
her difficulties in music. I have been a music 
teacher for the last 15 years and right here let me 
say that most of the trouble In this music business, 
lies with the parents of the pupils. Not one parent 
in flfiy is willing that the child shall progress by 
regular system. They see no use In scales, exer¬ 
cises etc., •* there's no tune in them” A pupil has 
hardly mastered the notes when presto t the “ Lit¬ 
tle Brown Jug” is far more acceptable, and of 
course more readily understood, than the finest 
sonata of Beethoven. There was a circus In our town 
last spring, the usual rush was on hand, every 
one Of course came to see the “ Elephant.” Among 
other at f motions (?) in music they had a steam 
piano, (which is nothing more nor less than the 
Callope used by southern steamers) Well, I 
should call it an “Infernal Machine” from Its 
noise. It was perfectly deafening when near it. 
Bur. you Just ought to have seen the crowd with 
open eyes and mouth, listening to the “de¬ 
lightful music” while I felt a wicked wish to choke 
the performer or blow him up in his own concern. 
There is a general knowledge of music here but 
with some few exceptions it is of a low grade, I 
don't mean vulgar, but uncultivated and unde¬ 
veloped. 
No. 5. 
I have a warm fellow feeling for the ladies on the 
servant, girl question. I have lately had some ex¬ 
perience In that line and I’m truly glad its over. 
My baby boy is no w nearly .six weeks old, but when 
I did need a girl what a dance they led ray hus¬ 
band! They thought I was In their power and 
they acted accordingly; they would come and 
stay a few days and then * • dust” while my “ better 
half” in a very Irreligious frame of mind set out to 
seek another. 1 bus they acted till nearly wor¬ 
ried to death, we determined t“ get along with¬ 
out such •* help.” I have three little ones the old¬ 
est only seven years of age, but I would endure 
Jfar Morani. 
CONDUCTED BY MISS FAITH BIPLEY. 
POEMS OF HOME. 
A CRADLE IN THE HOUSE. 
We have grot a cradle in the house, 
And we have something: in it, 
A freakish, wayward, winsome bairn, 
Not hiiwer than a minute. 
Although no diadem he wears 
Blit his rinifluts soft and brown, 
His every smile and frown we heed. 
As If he wore a crown. 
No sceptre In his hands he holds. 
But kheu hie piuliy fist, so smalL, 
He, like a royal monarch wlelde. 
And we are humble eubJectH all. 
And when his tiny foot he stamps 
If aught, caprice, or whim displease, 
fl c brightest grift In babydom 
e bring, him to appease. 
A • hen he wills to close his eyes, 
■V o on tip-tou through the house: 
E\ y ,.ipa’s heavy-booted foot 
1 atia softly as a mouse. 
We have got a despot on a throne, 
Hecliuin-' like a kinglet, 
F” w* a cradle In our house, 
.,we Ave something in it. [Household. 
A MOTHER’S DIARY. 
! Baby on the floor. 
Making for the fender; 
Sunlight seems to make it sneeze; 
Baby " on a bender?" 
All the spools upset and gone, 
Chairs drawn into file, 
Harnessed strings all strung across, 
Ought to make one smile. 
Apron clean, curls smooth, eyes blue, 
(How these charms will dwindle,) 
For I rather think—don’t you— 
Baby “ is a swindle ?” 
Noon ! A tangled, silken Aohs 
G etting In bine eyes; 
Apron that will not keep clean. 
If a baby tries ! 
One blue shoe untied, and one 
Underneath thetnVe; 
Chairs gore mad.an'Vt jlock and toys. 
Well as they are able ; 
Baby in a high chair, too. 
Yelling for his dinner. 
Spoon in mouth ; X think—don’t you— 
Baby “ is a sinner?" 
Night! Chairs all set back again, 
Blocks and spools in order; 
One blue shoe beneath the mat 
Tells of a marauder; 
Apron folded on a chair, 
Wald drees torn ami wrinkled. 
Two pink feet kicked pretty bare. 
Little fat knees crinkled; 
In hie crib, and conquered, too. 
By sleep, blessed evangel. 
Now I surely tbiuk—don’t you— 
Baby *• is an angel ?” [Baltimore Sun. 
BABY HAS GONE TO SCHOOL. 
The baby has gone to school; ah, me! 
What will the mother do, 
With never a call to button or pin, 
Or tie a little shoe? 
How can she keep herself busy all day. 
With the little " hindering thing” away ? 
Another basket to fill with lunch. 
Another “ good-bye” to say. 
And the mother stands at the door to see 
Her baby march away; 
And turns with a sigh that is half relief, 
And half a something akin to grief. 
She thinks of n possible future morn. 
When the children, one by one, 
Will go from their home out in the world 
To battle with life alone. 
And not even the baby be left to cheer 
The desolate home of that future year. 
She picks up garments here and there. 
Thrown down in careless haste. 
And tries to think how it would seem 
If nothing wcie displaced. 
If the house were always still as this, 
How could she bear the loneliness ? 
MY LITTLE WIFE. 
She isn’t very pretty 
(So say my lady friends); 
She’s neither wise nor witty 
With verbal odds and ends. 
No fleeting freaks of fashion 
Across her fancy ruu, 
She’s never In a passion— 
Except a tender one. 
Her voiee is low and cooing; 
She listens more than speaks: 
While others talk of doing. 
The duty near she seeks. 
It may be but to burnish 
The sideboard’s scanty plate, 
Or but with bread to furnish 
The beggar at the gate. 
So I, who see what graces 
She sheds on lowly life. 
To fashion's fairest faces 
Prefer my littlo wife. 
And though at her with pity 
The city dames may smile, 
Who deem her hardly pretty 
And sadly out of style: 
To me she seems a creature 
So musically sweet. 
I would not change one feature— 
One curve from orowrn to feet 
And if I could be never 
Her lover and her mate, 
1 think I'd lie forever 
The beggar at the gate. [Chicago Times. 
necessity,” and never intend to endure them again. 
I think “ Avenger” has come with a vengeance 
to the rescue of the poor unfortunate mother-in- 
law and bids fair to run Into the other extreme. 
No. 3. 
If those afflicted mortals would stop and think 
awhile they would see that all this mother-in-law 
business arises from “ jealousy.” You see mankind 
loves to be “number one” and the mother very 
naturally doesn't care to give up “ her rights” and 
so the ball Is set rolling. I fully agree with the per¬ 
son who said there never was a house big enough 
to hold two families. “ That’s what’s the matter,” 
I would rather live in a shanty than In the finest, 
mansion on earth with any people-in-law, on 
whatever side. When two people marry they are 
supposed to “branch off” and form new ties, but 
the Idea of “tacking on" our relations. Is the 
veriest nonsense. We can love them Just as well 
and still not be obliged to live with them in dally 
Intercourse, I think “ Avenger's” daughter will 
hid fair to be an “ old maid.” If her mother Intends 
to visit the sins of all the defunct sons-ln-law 
on his devoted head. There are two sides two 
every question and I think the best plan to settle 
this Is to live apart. I expect I have overrun 
the bounds, hut, If I am In the way. throw me in 
the waste paper basket, and I’ll not trespass again 
with such a lengthy document; hut those ladles’ 
letters rather “ stirred me up," and while the Inspi¬ 
ration was on me, I thought I would write as the 
spirit moved me. Ladles’ departments are becoming 
fashionable In newspapers. I’m glad the “lords 
of creation,” are coming to see that even “ weak 
woman” has some brains that are worthy of 
recognition. Mrs. Arthur Galpin. 
Watervllle, Kan. 
-» ♦♦ ■- 
WHIFFS FROM OILDOM. 
I have often thought I would like to be per¬ 
sonally acquainted with some of the “elubltes” 
of the Rural, and 1 believe I come pretty 
near It when one <y them bears the. same 
name as myself, and another Is the sl3ter of my 
girl’s former employer. Living In the counlry far 
from town, where literature is hardly thought of 
by many. It Is really a luxury to become acquainted 
with those of congenial tastes 
The falling leaves remind me that the Winter's 
blast will soon compel us to close the doors and 
windows, and to find employment and amusement 
In the house, and how much more pleasantly the 
time will pass If the rooms are cheerful and bright. 
I wish to tell the sisters of some Improvements we 
made In our living rooms last Spring, and of some 
others we have m contemplation. The mirror 
hung between two windows, without, any support; 
the clock—an old family one—was also fastened 
No. 6. 
against the wall without any shelf. One day, 
when Hubby was not busy, I asked him to put a 
plain shelf under the mirror and another under 
the clock. He did as desired, but how rough they 
looked without paint or finish of any sort. I 
speedily devised a plan for their embellishment. 
The shelves must have lambrequins, but what was 
I to make them of ? Eva and 1 racked our brains, 
and the house, (the store was not to be thought of). 
At last an old, plain grenadine overskirt, trimmed 
with lace was found; later, some worn out red 
flannel under-clothing was brought to light. Lay. 
lng the grenadine over the red flannel produced a 
pretty effect, so we cut scallops for the dmpe of 
the lambrequin, sewed on lace headed with dainty, 
red braid, tacked this to the shelves, headed with 
strips of flannel, pinked at both edges. Some 
NO. T. 
pieces of marbled oil cloth were found to marble- 
“ lze ” the top and our shelves were complete, the 
one trader the mirror for receiving combs, brush 
flower mat. 
WATCH STAND. 
The frame Is of ebony, covered with canvas em¬ 
broidered In crewels. Cording and tassels of blue 
are the ornamentations used, aa shown at No. T. 
almost any amount oflabor or discomfort before 
I would.or could live in “hot water” all the 
while with a lot of vara shiftless girls. I never 
have a hired girl except as a matter of “ dire 
flower mat. 
The foundation Is of wine-colored cloth and the 
dahlias are of silk, alternately pink and wine- 
colored. The embroidery may be confined to these 
two colors, or the vine may be shaded green and 
the flowers pink. A platting of wine-colored 
satin ribbon around the edge completes the mat. 
- ♦ ♦-*- 
THE WOMAN’S CLUB. 
A REVIEW OF THE OCTOBER CLUB. 
Dear Miss Ripley: I read with pleasure to¬ 
day, In our Rural, some letters from ladies to 
your department; they were so natural In ex¬ 
pression, I cannot forbear adding a few fines my¬ 
self la regard to the subjects treated of. I ad¬ 
mire most heartily the Indomitable pluck dis¬ 
played by Edna Houghton in regard to conquering 
DESCRIPTION OF ENGRAVINGS. 
HAIR-PIN WORK. 
