a “great party,” to lay in a stock of grasses 
grains, and some of the multitudinous spikes 
aud stalks of vegetation that Nature herself 
often so beautifully dries for interior decor¬ 
ations, How well brilliant-hued apples would 
adhere to branches cut off and hung up to 
dry, I do uot know, but berries often dry on 
stalks and iu clusters, which are decorative 
aud raspberries at that. Grasses and flowers 
artificially dyed, are never pretty, and it 
should not be forgotten that there is beauty 
of form as well as of color, that dried golden 
rod and boughs or cones a re not to be despised 
for their lack of brilliancy. Of course, iu an 
exhibition of this kind, there was much decor¬ 
ative work—painted china, screens and mir¬ 
ror frames. The prettiest decorated frame, 
to my taste, was a profusion of pink roses on 
a black-ground—the wide frame being black, 
with an outside border of dull gilt—a succes¬ 
sion of knobs like large nail heads. The roses 
were nearly alike- in color, but differed in var¬ 
iety and were painted from all points of view. 
I was in a large Japanese store one day, 
where screens wore being painted by J apanese, 
sprawled on the floor, with the screens lying 
flat down—they work like the Indians, without 
seats. Two of the Japanese “artists” were 
painting portraits from photographs of Ban 
Francisco women on the screens, and cover¬ 
ing the upright figure with a Japanese gown 
iu gorgeous colors. For a screen portrait 
gotten up in this fashion *80 were charged. In 
the way of photography, the Japanese do 
wonderful work, aud color the photographs 
with equal skill and taste, quite surpassing 
any American work that I have ever seen. 
They make rain coats of a material resembling 
broom corn, overlapping the “broom” on a 
quilted lining, as leathers overlap on a fowl, 
and over this is fastened a gauzy netting, 
which holds it in place, 
Christmas week was rainy, but. gay—stacks 
of ska Del v evergreens for Christmas trees, 
“Sally, Sally! do you know that hundreds | 
of mechanics, clerks and laborer’s wives are 
almost beside themselves from worry; fearing 
want iu different forms? I have spent hours 
casting about in some way to help Will. Our 
home is not paid for and we are about to lose 
it all. We try to be economical, and have dis¬ 
pensed with articles which really were needed. 
We have had so much company; persons who 
visited us just because it was convenient; they 
praised my cooking, and thought how nice it 
was to live in the city amidst such plenty, not 
dreaming, we could illy afford to buy beef¬ 
steak and fresh fruits for them. W e lack only 
a few dollars upon this last payment, but it 
seems as though we never can get them. Now 
don’t think I mean you dear Sally, I need you 
to talk with, and cheer me in these gloomy 
times, you cannot know how much I appreci¬ 
ated Tom’s basket of good things, and the 
thoughtful heart which prompted the act. 
I've been so tired of the struggle and have 
longed in the spring time to come to you. 
Suppose you do work hard, there’s a beautiful 
picture spread before you, done in nature s 
coloring; green fields, sweet, fragrant blossoms 
whiteand pink: if you are tired or sick you can 
take time to “rest.” Life isn’t one hard, daily 
grind from early morn until lutein the night.” 
“But the concerts and lectures in the city!” 
said I. 
“Poor men’s wives are usually too far away 
to attend evening amusements, or too tired, 
and if they are ambitious to dress well, they 
cannot afford to spend the money for amuse¬ 
ments. Church-going is never neglected by 
me, as on Sunday I gain fresh strength for 
the coming week’s struggle. Sally, the coun¬ 
try woman with a good home and husband 
ought to be the happiest woman in this great, 
glad, wide world.” 
1 started back home after making my visit, 
ashamed of my murmuriugs and dissatisfied 
spirit. I had a good home aud a good hus¬ 
band; one who did all in bis power to make 
I took up my work 
very seldom betray their unpleasant secret. 
This book is interesting and well written. 
Such a work would be. incomplete without the 
old song “The Cork Leg,”a parody on which is 
given in full. We hope none of our readers 
will ever liave the misfortune to lose a limb. 
Should they be so unfortunate, we can only 
bope they may secure as comfortable a substi¬ 
tute a-s those described in this book. 
Buckeye 1 ron Fencing. —Pamphlet from 
Mast, Foos & Co., Springfield, Ohio. Iren 
fencing becomes more popular with each year. 
Its use is not by any' means confined to cities. 
Iron crestings, railings, verandas, window 
guards, vanes, hitching posts, etc., are largely' 
in use. The Buckeye fence is constructed of 
extra heavy and strong materials. It is 
shipjied in panels so that it may be set- up 
without trouble. Twenty-two different, styles 
are shown, from the plain and simple picket 
fence to the elaborated and highly ornamented 
panel. The wrought iron used in this fence is 
made specially to order, while the malleable 
iron used for ornamenting is from the best 
air furnace iron. In addition to the fencing, 
the Iron Turbine Wind-Mill, Buckeye Lawn 
Mowers, and Buckeye Force Pumps arc des¬ 
cribed in the catalogue. 
Stearns’ Standard Fertilizers. Circu¬ 
lar from Stearns & Co., 149 Front St., New 
York.—The reasons w hy farmers should use 
these fertilizers are tersely given. Many 
good testimonials are printed. V\ ith the in¬ 
formation that stares from the pages of 
fertilizer pamphlets, farmers ought, to know' 
something about agricultural chemistry by 
this time. The catalogue contains many 
valuable tables of facts aud figures, and will 
be sent free to applicants. 
rimony. Consequently to his mother, whose 
fears of beiug supplanted in her son’s affec¬ 
tions, had long years ago subsided, the revela¬ 
tion was most startling. With Elialdm, to re¬ 
solve, was to act; and straightway he began to 
weigh the merits of the various single ladies 
of his acquaintance. Finally, all thiygs con¬ 
sidered, his choice fell upon Miss Desire Hop¬ 
kins, as the one most suitable to occupy 7 the 
position he proposed to offer. 
Miss Hopkins was a spinster of some 35 
years, a healthy, plump, brown-eyed, little 
body, tidy* aud neat, with always a eheerful 
smile anti a pleasant word, and a communicant 
in the church with which he was connected. 
She was a tailor ess by trade, industrious and 
economical withal, to which excellencies of 
character the neat little sum, counting up into 
the hundreds which had been from time to 
tune accumulating in the village bank, bore 
testimony. Another item which bad great 
weight with the Deacon w as, that Desire Hop¬ 
kins was alone iu the world For, he reasoued, 
“many a man’s nose has been kept constantly 
on the grindstone by the lengthy 7 aud oft-re¬ 
peated visits of a numerous tribe of relatives.” 
It was iu the i>etulant month of April that 
w 7 e picked up the thread out of which to weave 
our little story, and gentle May had well uigh 
reached the end of her flowery journey, when 
Eliakira Graves selected a Thursday evening 
on which to pay the object of his choice a visit.. 
He was far too strict a disciplinarian to take 
a Saturday or Sunday 7 evening for such a 
worldly purpose. He intended to make her a 
point blank offer, a- he considered timo spent 
in courting worse than wasted. Besides, he 
wished to have the matter settled before the 
busy' harvest season. The frequent dwelling 
of his thoughts upon the various virtues and 
attractions of the lady, had started a little, 
feeble flicker of affection in his heart which 
was to eventually burst forth in a roaring, all- 
cousuming flame. 
Desire w 7 as at this time engaged in the house 
of Brother Drake, getting ready the summer 
plumage for the father Drake and the large 
brood of ducklings. The distance was about 
three miles by the public highway, but Elia- 
kim proposed to shorten it by taking a cut 
“cross lots.” 
Now , although our liero was strictly honest, 
and to a certain degree charitable, he was 
also exceedingly saving — “parsimonious,” 
some called him. He aimed to make things 
lost, as long as possible, hence, while about 
his w ork looks were of small importance. He 
followed his plow' aud drag bnre-footcd, in 
warm weather, and hoed his corn and raked 
his hay in the same simple ami childlike cos¬ 
tume. And on this momentous evening, after 
arraying himself in his carefully preserved 
“Sunday 7 best,” he took his shoes in his hand 
with the intention of putting them on when 
near his destination. His way led through a 
piece of woods, and as the moon was not yet 
up, he received several bumps and scratches. 
At last, he ran into the slivered stub of an old 
oak tree and hurt his great toe. “Oh, the 
dogs!” he exclaimed, with a groan, as he hob¬ 
bled to a grassy knoll there to sit down aud 
nurse the bleeding member. “It’s Providen¬ 
tial I didn’t have my shoe on. I should, iu all 
probability, have knocked a hole in it.” 
for Women. 
CONDUCTED BY MISS HAY CLARK. 
ELIAKIM GRAVES’S WOOING 
part i 
mo happy and content, 
again with a light heart, resolved never to 
allow 7 myself to envy another’s position in life, 
but to keep my home us neat aud cheery as 
was possible. ELLA GUERNSEY. 
“Mother, I have resolved to marry!” aud 
having made this unexpected communication 
in the short, abrupt manner so peculiarly his 
own, Ehakim Graves reached up and placed 
the Doddridge’s Expositor he had been read¬ 
ing on the mantel-shelf, and sitting yet more 
erect in his straight high-backed chair, gazed 
solemnly into the fire. 
The Widow Graves, a little, wiry, black- 
eyed woman, sitting opposite in another high- 
backed chair, started as though a bombshell 
had exploded in the quiet room, dropping 
three stitches in the striped mitten she was 
knitting. Pushing her iron-bowed spectacles 
high up on her wrinkled forehead, she looked 
at her son with a swift, sudden doubt of his 
sanity, chilling her heart and exclaimed: 
“For the land’s sake, Eliakim! What under 
the sun, moon and stare ever put that, idee 
into your head that y r ou should want to bring 
some creature here to upset us all with new¬ 
fangled ways and notions?” And then as 
though fearing she had perhaps unconsciously 
failed in motherly care and devotdou, added 
half appealingly, “Don’t I make you comfort¬ 
able, my boy ?” 
“Yes mother,” replied Eliakim, “I am com¬ 
fortable. But you are getting old. The Bible 
says ‘it is not good for mau to be alone.’ I 
am used to your ways. I desire to bring a 
woman here that you may teach her so that 
when you are gone there may be no change.” 
And Eliakim Graves’s gaze wandered ai'ound 
the room. Each article of furniture stood in 
precisely the same place which it had occu¬ 
pied in all the forty and two years of his 
life. The narrow-leaf table between the two 
west, windows, the chest of drawers with their 
brass rings, opposite. The high-rounding bed 
with curtains of large flowered ehiuts, the 
spindle-legged stand at the southeast corner 
of the huge fire-place with the big Bible on it, 
the blue-dye pot, in the southwest corner, and 
the little crock containing the batter for the 
buckwheat cakes on the mantel. These 
w 7 ere the household gods he had worshipped 
in his childhood, revered all his life, and it 
would go hard w'ith him to sec them cast down 
from their thrones or desecrated by careless 
hands. 
“Aud the woman—who is she?” questioned 
his mother. 
“I have made no selection,” replied Eliakim. 
“The Lord will undoubtedly direct me.” And 
taking off his home-spun coat, he hung it up¬ 
on its accustomed peg, and mounted the creak¬ 
ing stairs which led to the room above. Here 
he was wont to stretch his angular six-feet 
frame upon an orthodox bed of genuine live 
geese feathers, which had softened the slum 
here of several generations of his honest up¬ 
right ancestors. From the tiny window of 
this room, he could look out upon every acre 
of the well tilled farm, which by virtue of be¬ 
ing an only child, had come into his possess¬ 
ion of his father. Eliakim Graves was a worthy 
descendant of the old Puritan stock, stern, rig¬ 
id, strict in the performance of all religious 
duties, he "kept the letter of the law,” 
although he missed much of the sweetness per¬ 
taining to the Christian faith. He had suc- 
CONDUCTED BY MRS. AGNES E. 51. CARMAN. 
HOUSEKEEPING IN CALIFORNIA—VI. 
MARY WAGER-FISHER. 
Since writing my last “Housekeeping Let- 
ter” I have atteudod an Art Reception in San 
Francisco, where I was so charmed with the 
decorations that 1 cannot let the opportunity 
pass without making a note of them for the 
Rural. The occasion was in honor of a 
ladies’ exhibition of pictures—the work of 
California women—and the decorative effect 
of the rooms was, of course, due to women. I 
was told that the arrangements were chiefly 
due to a lady who was a decorative artist; 
but that she did not paint pictures. She bad 
the faculty of taking an old worn-out basket 
aud converting it into a “thing of beauty.” 
The materials made use of were old shawls of 
crepe and silk, Roman scarfs, bits of gay silks 
and ribbons, dried and fresh grasses and stalks 
of grain, dried seed-pods of many kinds, in¬ 
cluding dock, which is a rich, dark maroon in 
color; branches of orange and Japanese 
persimmon loaded with red and yellow fruit, 
ferns and branches of the pepper tree, door- 
high; coarse baskets huug on the wall filled 
with grasses, peacock feathers, old-fashioned 
aud new-fashioned bowls on brackets, or sus¬ 
pended from hooks filled with chrysanthe¬ 
mums. roses, or gay marigolds, with long, 
down-hanging clusters, formed by tying 
MY VISIT TO THE CITY. 
Harvest and the fruit season brought extra 
work: 1 was tired and really needed a little 
change. “Oh,” I thought, as I sat upon the 
step of my vine-draped piazza, “In the city 
there’s breadth and life mentally—music, 
lectures, church privileges; in the country its 
work, work, and nothing else.” 
“To-morrow, Sally, you shall go to the city 
for a long visit with Cousin Mary,” said my 
husband, as he sat down beside uic, heated 
aud perspiring; even the beautiful moonlight, 
caught him working at something. 
Next morning 1 went to Cousin Mary’s, who 
lived iu the suburbs of a large city ‘JO miles 
from our farm. Tom packed a basket and 
put it in the baggage car, in spite of my ob¬ 
jections. 
“Why Tom, you forget that they live in a 
place of plenty; beefsteak, oysters, fine fruits, 
iee cream, etc. I don’t care to take butter 
and pickled pork to Mary.” 
But Tom had liis way, and that afternoon 
found me iu the pretty little parlor, chatting 
to Mary, who was lookiug more worn out than 
myself. 
Mary’s dress was cheap and plain, she seemed 
her old bright self, though she sighed often, as 
I told her of my summer’s work. 
“How thankful you should be Sally, that 
your lines are cast iu such pleasant places.” 
“I! thankful Mary? For what? Hard work 
and mental starvation f” 
“1 mean that you should be thankful for men¬ 
tal rest and the knowledge that you have a 
home and a comfortable support secured.” 
“You have more Mary, aud leisure to enjoy 
life as it flies. I can uot but contrast the 
lives of city and country women, iu favor of 
the former.” 
When Baby wu sick, w gava her Caatoria. 
When she waa a Child, she cried for Caatoria, 
When ahe became Mias, she clung to Caatoria, 
Whan she bad Children, aba gava tham Caatoria, 
