<74 
CONDUCTED BY MISS KAY CLARK. 
THE EDITOR’S GIRL. 
Spoken at the banquet of the Delta Tau Delta 
Fraternity. 
HERBERT W. CO LUNG WOOD. 
You know the old fellow who. long ago, said. 
After painfully thinking and rubbing his head, 
That with one simple lever he'd make the world jump 
From Its place—into space—with a terrible thump. 
If he had but a log and a good place to stand, 
He could move the great world by one touch of his 
hand. 
The old fellow’s lever was easily found, 
But the lo; and the place to stand never came round; 
And the p .-ople iaughel loud at the dreaming old man. 
They called him a lunatic -sneered at his plan. 
Yet we foolish q nil Id rivers—know he was right; 
The world can be swayed from the dark to the light. 
The Press is our lever, far down in the heart 
Of the people it reaches and holds for its part. 
The Press is the lever, yet where does it rest? 
The noble old Roman or Greek at his best 
Was forced to give up on his log long ago; 
Yet we have discovered It—listen! I'll show 
The lever swings on as the busy years whirl. 
And It rests in the hands—of the Editor’s Girl! 
The Editor’s Girl? What, that small party there 
With a square inch of forehead down under her hair? 
With a fist like a snowball—a mouth like a rose, 
With a smile that would thaw out your heart though 
It froze? 
Admit it—be honest, my brothers, to day— 
We are brothers—I’ll not give your secret away. 
Own It up, has the little girl not made your life 
Far better and purer and held you from strife? 
Don’t you knowpow you stood—may be years ago. 
How you wanted to stay and yet wanted to go? 
While the little girl looked up at you with a smile 
And a queer sort of look in her eyes all the while: 
Till you found that .you couldn't stay longer aloof, 
And you reached for her mouth—and, In fact, you 
“took proof?” 
Now honestly—didn’t you after that night, 
Think of her every time when you sat down to write 
Your wild editorials?—how they did shine 
Touched up by friend Cupid, that fellow divine. 
She would smile up at yon from the bottle of ink, 
While yon sat there patiently trying to think. 
You knew that your paper would always be read 
By at least one subscriber whose dear little head 
Would treasure the good and forget all the ill. 
And think you a wonderful personage still. 
And under your coat there, you curried a eharm 
That would make Trouble shake In its hoots in alarm. 
I know what it was-it was only a curl 
From the head of the Editor’s dear little Girl. 
You smile at me now, and you say that these joys 
Are all very well for a great crowd of boys; 
But that when a man’s beard and his head have turned 
gray, 
The romance and poetry all fly away. 
Now, if It be true, that the heart will grow cold. 
Let us solemnly swear that we’ll never grow old. 
Say, tell me, you bald-headed men over there— 
You studious fellows with more brain than hair— 
You men who stand looking down through the dim 
years. 
All tilled up with pleasures and trials aud tears— 
Does the little girl really grow old with each year? 
Is she ever less fair, Is she ever less dear 
Than she was when she looked In your face long ago 
With the look in her eyes that sent lire through you bo? 
When she spoke the three words that have made up 
your life, 
That have kept.you from sorrow and held you through 
strife? 
Would you not give as much—come, be honest to¬ 
night— 
For one curl from her head though it be streaked with 
white? 
Do her cheeks really fade as the busy years whirl? 
Is she ever aught else but the Editor's Girl? 
Think over your life; all the joys you have had; 
AH the beautiful memories tender and sad. 
That come as the starlight breaks through the dark 
pine. 
That twine round your heart as the soft tendrils 
twine. 
Ah—the lip may well tremble—the eye may well nil 
With tears—not unmanly is that tender thrill, 
As you think of the anguish that wrung through her 
life 
When the little child dropped from the world's busy 
strife. 
Ah. the brave little woman—her lips wore a smile 
Though you knew that her poor heart, was breaking 
the while. 
Ah, how small will our portion of fame be, my friends, 
When the mighty bookkeeper shall foot up both ends 
Of the ledger: our portion will be indeed small; 
Yet she—lit tle woman—would give us her all- 
Do your troubles not bring you still closer together, 
No matter how gloomy, how stormy life’s weather? 
Does she not still to you her best Influence give? 
Do you not know her better each day that you live? 
Does she load you In truth such a wouderf ul dance; 
And is It all poetry, bosh and romance? 
You’ve been over the road—i/ou know what you’re 
about; 
We simple, young fellows would gladly find out. 
For we have a notion—no doubt Us all wrong; 
No doubt down in practice its not worth a song — 
That a man may mount high to the temple of Fame— 
The honor, the love of the world he may claim. 
Yet back of it all, unobserved and unknown, 
A woman is silently building his throne. 
She Is patieutly, lovingly working the wliUe 
With a woman’s unreasoning love and a smile, 
Aud as long as the years dance their magical whirl, 
We will praise her for ever—The Editor’s Girl. 
THEN AND NOW. 
In nothing have our ways changed more in 
40 years than in our ways of traveling. Now 
when we wish to make a journey of a few 
hundred miles, we consult the railway time¬ 
table, look up our most direct route, and at 
the apjiointed time make our apiiearanco at 
the depot, grumble if the tram is five minutes 
behind time, hurry on board, and with a 
scream and a jerk oft; we go at the rate of 80 
or 40 miles an hour. 
Not so the staid old farmer two score years 
ago prepared to make a filial visit to his old 
father aud mother, who lived a couple of 
hundred miles east of himself, among the 
Highlands of the Hudson. Days were given 
to the preparation of victuals for the use of his 
party on their trip which wins to be made by 
private conveyance—a two-seated spring 
wagon, which he surveys with becoming 
pride in its neat aud stylish a ppearauce. 
Early In the morning of the day appointed 
for the journey, a remarkably safe team was 
brought to the door, and the good man aud 
his wife take the front seat, while two children 
too wild to be left at home, triumphantly 
clamber into the back seat, while the elder 
sister takes a seat between them to maintain 
something like order, a rather difticult oper¬ 
ation where a boy of six and a lively girl 
of ten are concerned. Looks of lively pleasure 
are cast by tbejn at the box containing the 
biscuit, pies, dough mils and apples, as well as 
the other good things, waiting for their hun¬ 
gry lunch hour, aud altogether the world 
seems to them just at that time to be over¬ 
full of enjoyment. 
A last caution is given to those to be left in 
charge of the domestic affairs at home, and 
the party set out on w hat is to be to them 
a memorable journey. 
This trip holds foi 1 every one of the party 
more enjoyment than many now in this faster 
age would gain from a trip to the Old World, 
On they go day after day, up hill and down, 
across the sandy pine plains aud through toll 
gates built on the paved turn-pike; between 
long rows of Lombardy poplars, stopping at 
wayside inns, patronized by very mauy sim¬ 
ilar traveling parties, until the noble Hudson 
is reached, aud to the young people what 
seemed like a wonderful invention, were 
ferried in a boat across the river, without get¬ 
ting out of their own wagon. They then 
pursued their journey over the more moun¬ 
tainous region beyond, often walking up hills 
which it seemed unsafe to vide up, without 
falling out behind, until at last they arrived 
at sunset one evening at the door of the grand¬ 
parents, where such a welcome awaited them 
as only such relatives can give to the long 
absent loved ones. Then what joyful days of 
visiting uncles, aunts and cousins of the 
children; brothers, sisters and old acquaint¬ 
ances of the parents; a visit to the old farm 
where he had been brought up by the father 
who thought he did not remember that the 
rocks were so very large, and so near to¬ 
gether as they seemed now; what unlimited 
spoiling of the grandchildren came in as a 
matter of course, before the time arrived for 
them to start for home once more by a more 
circuitous route, to visit by the wav other 
relatives seldom seen; and what a long, de¬ 
lightful trip it seemed to nil. and when home 
is reached once more, the cares of life are re¬ 
sumed, and seem to press less heavily than 
before; and to those children ever after that 
pleasant journey to their grandparents, seemed 
like a dream of paradise. 
SOLITUDE SWEETENED. 
CLOVER. LEAF AND OPENWORK LACE. 
Cast on 33 stitches and knit across plain. 
1st row. Three plain, over twice and seam 
two together, three plain, thread over twice 
and narrow, four plain, thread over twice aud 
seam two together, three plain, thread over 
twice, naiTow, six plain, thread over, narrow, 
over, two stitches plain, thread over twice, 
seam two together. 
2d row. Thread over the needle twice and 
seam two together, 13 stitches plain, seam one, 
three plain, over twice, seam two together, 
six plain, seam the loop stitch, three plain, 
over t wice, seam two together, three plain. 
3d row’. Three plain, over twice and seam 
two together, four plain, narrow, four plain, 
over twice, seam two together, four plaiu, 
narrow, seven plain, over, narrow, over, two 
plain, thread over twice, seam two together, 
drop the loop at the end of the needle. 
4th row. Thread over twice, seam two to¬ 
gether, 17 plain, over twice, seam tw r o to¬ 
gether, nine plain, over twice, seam two to¬ 
gether, three plain. 
5th row. Three plain, over twice, seam 
two together, three plaiu, over twice, narrow’, 
over twice, narrow, two plain, over twice, 
seam tw r o together, three plain, over twice, 
narrow, over twice, narrow, six plain, over, 
narrow, over two plain, over twice seam two 
together. 
6th row. Thread over needle twice, seam 
two together, 13 plain, seam one, two plain, 
seam one, three plain, over twice, seam two 
together, four plain, seam one, two plain, 
seam one, throe plain, over twice, seam two 
together, three plain. 
7th row. Three plain, over twice, seam two 
together, four plain, narrow, one plain, nar¬ 
row, two plain, over twice, seam two together, 
four plain, narrow, one plain, narrow’, seven 
plain, over, narrow, over, two plaiu, over 
twice, seam two together, drop the loop. 
8th row. Thread over twice, seam tw T o to¬ 
gether, 19 plain, thread over twice, seam two 
together, nine plain, thread over twice, seam 
two together, three plain. 
9th row. Three plain, thread over twice, 
seam two together, nine plain, thread over 
twice, seam two together, three plain (thread 
over twice narrow, three times), six plain, 
thread over, narrow, over, two plain, thread 
over twice, seam two together, drop the loop. 
10th row. Thread over twice, seam two 
together. 13 plain, seam one, two plain, seam 
one, two plain, seam one, three plain, thread 
over twice, seam two together, nine plain, 
thread over twice, seam two together, three 
plain. 
11th row. Three plain, thread over twice, seam 
two together, nine plain, thread over twice, 
seam two together, four plain, narrow’ (one 
plain narrow, twice), six plain, slip five 
stitches over one stitch, thread over twice, 
seam two together, drop the loop. 
12th row. Thread over twice, seam tw’o 
together, 15 plain, thread over twice, seam 
two together, nine plain, thread over twice, 
seam two together, three plaiu. e. m. n. 
PERSONAL ADORNMENT vs. UNTIDI¬ 
NESS. 
All mechanics, either builders of syntax or 
constructors of edifices, know that we must 
first lay a firm foundation. Let us come to 
the point and form the foundation for this 
topic—order and cleanliness in its strictest, 
strongest terms. We must first learn to be 
clean and neat in all things. Then comes 
Heaven’s first law, which you all know is or¬ 
der. I wonder if every mother feels the great 
importance of teaching her child to be orderly. 
It would not only save her many steps, but 
shi should think of the future, when her child 
had arrived at womanhood. What kind of a 
housekeeper will she make? Some children 
are boru wqth order stamped in their nature; 
others, alas! with disorder. I must confess 1 
was one of the latter. For a’few years I was 
a source of groat trial to my mother, who is 
extremely particular aud orderly. It was 
more forgetfulness on my part, but I was very 
apt to leave ray books, after studying, on the 
table instead of putting them in my book-bag. 
Not only this, but a hundred other things, 
which kept the room in constant disorder. 
When my mother remonstrated with me my 
only answer was: “O, mamma, I’m so sorry, 
hut I forgot," Such terrifying spectacles was 
held before me of girls who had grown to be 
women, anil were slovenlj- and untidy, that it 
frightened me out of my forgetful, heedless 
ways and compelled me to remember. My 
mother would uot allow any one of the house¬ 
hold to put things in their places after I had 
disturbed them, but would have me replace 
them mi self. For a time I was continually 
being called here and there to straighten 
whatever I had disarranged, and as you may 
suppose, picking up after oueself was not a 
very agreeable task, and soon became aweary 
one. 
I gradually improved and eventually be¬ 
came tidy and orderly, thanks to my mother's 
careful training of a habit which would have 
caused me a world of trouble throughout my 
life. Any lady who is a neat tidy house¬ 
keeper cannot be neglectful of her own per¬ 
sonal appearance, When we see a woman 
about her work with her hair uncombed and 
having on a soiled dress, “it is a marked evi¬ 
dence of a slack housekeeper." But what is 
our opinion, if her hair is brushed, and her 
dress, though old and worn, is clean and 
neatly mended? How many young ladies with 
pretty laces delight in making a trim, showy 
apjiearanee on the street to please the public 
eye. who, when at home, are directly opposite? 
Is it uot of more consequence to look well 
before the home-circle of father and brothers, 
or husband and little ones? Does it not en¬ 
dear the husband to his home to bo met at the 
door after his day’s toil by a wife dressed In 
a pretty, calico dress, and clean white apron, 
having a smile and kind word of welcome? 
I have heard of persons washing dishes on 
the table cloth, anti with an embroidered 
whim apron on, and of its being as clean and 
white afterwards as before; the table-cloth 
not having suffered either. We saw once, a 
lady of French birth aud parentage, doing 
the week’s washing for herself and husband, 
with linen cuffs on. But of course these are 
extreme cases, and there is a happy medium 
within the reach of every housekeeper, and 
while such eases are on record, as a lazy, 
slovenly woman blacking a stove while having 
on a satin dress, and going to evening prayer 
mooting wearing the same dress; and in direct 
opposition lo this, the two just mentioned, 
there are mauy which could be related, of 
beautiful,orderly, quiet,homes,where lovo and 
obedience control, and where each strives to 
OUt-do the ot her in kind acta and words, and 
where the mother is alwa 3 r s suitably attired, 
whether for morning, afternoon or evening, 
and where one is conscious of no great amount 
of labor required to produce this. May such 
homes and such mothers be multiplied a thou¬ 
sand fold throughout our laud! w. n. 
CONDUCTED BY EMILY MATLE. 
BREAKFAST PLATES WITH SOME¬ 
THING ON THEM! 
A DELIGHTFUL REPAST IN WHICH DAINTY REL¬ 
ISHES FIGURE. 
“And then to breakfast with 
What appetite you have.” 
Breakfast parties are very fashionable, 
being less informal aud expensive than dinner 
parties, and generally just, as satisfactory to 
guests. Macaulay said, “Dinner parties are 
mere formalities: you ask a man to breakfast 
because you want to see him.'" In England 
they are greatlj’ in favor among the literati. 
The following modest breakfast menu has 
been prepared for the Rural readers by special 
request. 
Broiled Salmon. 
Kidney Toast. Potato Croquettes. 
Tonmto Omelet. 
Rice Waffles. 
Fried Bananas. 
Have one or more half-inch slices cut from 
the thick part of the fish; wipe dry; dredge 
lightly with flour, and broil over a clear fire. 
When done, put little lumps of fresh butter- 
over them, aud serve very hot. 
If a sauce is desired (and it is always a good 
addition), there can lx* nothing better than 
that simplest of sauces, Maitred’ Hotel butter; 
mix a spoonful of butter with a teaspoonful 
of lemon-juice, a little chopped parsley, and 
pepper and salt: spread this over any broiled 
fish, and set in a hot oven for a moment. A 
little drawn butter with the addition of a few 
capers, ts also a nice fish sauce. 
Kidney toast is a very delightful breakfast 
dish. Chop very fine four veal kidneys 
with half a pound of calf’s liver; season with 
salt aud pepper. Toss them into a frying-pan 
with a littlebutter previously made hot, until 
cooked but not overdone; have ready some 
hot squares of buttered toast; take the kidney 
from the fire aud stir in the beaten yelk of one 
egg, and half a teaspoonful of lemon-juice; 
spread the mixture on the toast aud serve at 
once. With stewed tomatoes and hot corn 
muttins this makes a veiy nice family break¬ 
fast. 
For the potato croquettes, put in a mixing 
bowl one large cupful of mashed potatoes, a 
little nutmeg, and Cayenne pepper aud the 
beaten yelk of one egg. Beat this with a fork 
until light and smooth, roll into little pear 
shaped cones, egg and bread-crumb them aud 
fry in boiling fat. When anything is to be 
fried by immersion, always test the fat by 
throwing in a bit of bread: if it takes on a 
brown color at once the fat is hot enough, aud 
your croquettes will be crisp outside and dry 
aud light inside. 
Directions for making tomato omelet were 
given in the Rural of February 27. 
Make the rice waffles exactly after the fol¬ 
lowing recipe, and eat with butter and honey 
or silver drips. 
Take one cup of boiled rice and mash 
smoothly, moistening it gradually with a cup 
of water; stir in one-third of a cake of com¬ 
pressed yeast that has been dissolved in luke¬ 
warm water, and two cups of flour. Add 
enough water to make a batter rather stiffer 
than for cake. All the water used must be 
luke-warm and the batter be perfectly free 
from lumps. Let it stand in a warm place 
for three hours; add three beaten eggs, a 
tonspoonful of salt, and a very little sugar, 
and bake in waffle-irons. These waffles 
are quite possible at a company breakfast 
which is served nt any hour from nine to 
twelve, hut cannot very well he managed for 
the ordinary family breakfast, as they call 
lor very early rising on the part of the cook, 
but they are good at lunch or supper, or as u 
dessert. 
Cut sound bananas in three slices length¬ 
wise, anti saute in a little hot butter. If the 
latter is as hot as it should be, they will take 
on a delicate brown quickly, and will make a 
very dainty ending to a duluty bivakfust . 
PALMETTO. 
KITCHEN TALKS. 
ANNIE L. JACK. 
“I have been greatly interested in the sub¬ 
ject of frying,” 1 said to the girls, when they 
gjRteceUanfoii* pldveftteinsR 
When Baby wm nick, wo garo her Coatoiia, 
When oho woa a Child, she cried for Caatoria, 
When the became Miss, she clang to Caatoria, 
Whou oho had Children, ah* gave thorn Castoria, 
