40S 
THE RURAL MEW-TOR HER. JUfSE I 
Woman’s Work. 
CONDUCTED BY EMILY L. TAPLIN. 
HOPEFUL AND CHEERFUL. 
CLARA AVGUSTA. 
That man is wise who never frets 
Whatever trials rise. 
Who bears In iniutl that ’neath the clouds 
Shine ever blue the skies; 
Who takes the ill luck with the good, 
And keeps a trusting heart; 
Content to struggle at his best. 
And do hts humble part. 
He never looks with anxious eye 
For troubles till they come; 
He lets no grumbling atmosphere 
Surround his happy home; 
He keeps his patience, sweet and strong, 
Whatever may befall, 
And never doubts, because he knows 
That God reigns over all! 
He does nol wall for happiness. 
He takes It as he goes; 
Around his pathway every day 
Perpetual sunshine flows; 
He knows this life a prelude is 
Unto that glorious fate, 
Which gives to mau a wider scope 
And grander far estate. 
That mau Is a philosopher! 
He has not lived for naught; 
And happy he to grasp the prize 
So many only sought! 
And if we'd act with wisdom here, 
And thus our days prolong. 
Why let us take things cheerfully. 
Just as they come along. 
OF INTEREST TO WOMEN. 
Little black silk socks are a novelty for 
babies’ wear, though many mothers still pre¬ 
fer the light colored ones. 
The pretty belted Norfolk jackets in many 
colors, particularly black, tau and putty color 
are very popular for street wear, over skirts 
of different hue. The e vet-useful Jei-sey may 
now be purchased in this shape. 
In spite of ridicule both from the press and 
the stage, the immense bustle and touruure 
continues in vogue. Though a full drapery is 
pretty enough in moderation, when thus car¬ 
ried to excess it becomes a caricature. The 
new comic opera, “The Little Tycoon,” com 
taines several sharp hits at this fashion, and 
also at the darning scarlet jackets now popular. 
The fancy for portiere curtains and many 
drajieries has resulted in the production of 
several new materials for such uses, some of 
them being surprisingly inexpensive. Cream 
colored scrim has made w ay for Mikado drap¬ 
eries, n gauzy brocaded cotton or liueu stuff 
closely resembling the more expensive Madras 
curtains. Another cotton and linen stuff is 
“Bulgarian drapery,” woven in broad horizon¬ 
tal stripes of contrasting colors. 
A short time since, every hat and bonnet must 
be overloaded with stuffed birds. Muffs were 
adorned with them, and evening gowns bore 
positive garlands of these slaughtered iuno- 
cents. Now it is learned that Queen Victoria, 
disapproving of this cruel fashion, has organ¬ 
ized plumage societies, w hose object is to dis¬ 
courage the style in every possible way. 
Thanks to the mania for English customs, and 
we hope, to our women’s sense of justice, sim¬ 
ilar societies arc being organized here, to the 
manifest disgust of the milliners; many of 
whom have a large stock of birds which will 
now be unsalable. This cruel fashion reached 
the very acme of repulsiveness at a great ball 
in New York last Winter, where a woman 
wore a yellow gown literally garlanded with 
Stuffed canaries; so many innocent little song¬ 
sters sacrificed to satisfy the vanity of one 
1 hough! less woman. 
Just on the bluff over the Hudson, at River¬ 
side Park, northwest of Grant’s tomb, is an¬ 
other solitary grave. Surrounded by an iron 
railing is a square block of time-stained mar¬ 
ble, surmounted by a crumbling urn. On 
one side is this inscription: 
“Erected to the memory of 
An Amiable Child, 
St. Claire Pollock, 
Lied July 15th, lts*7, 
In the .'th year of his age." 
Poor little St. Claire Pollock! He is un¬ 
known to history, save as “an amiable cltild;” 
his father, sometime owner of Riverside Park, 
was an English refugee of mysterious ante¬ 
cedents, who left nothing of record, save this 
lonely little grave. On Decoration Day, some 
kindly hand placed a bunch of roses on the 
crumbling urn, in gentle sympathy of the 
little sleeper’s solitary tomb. 
“BE CHEERFUL.” 
Farmers’ wives and daughters can do much 
toward making the toilsome life of a farmer a 
pleasanter and happier one. When returning 
from the field, the barn, or the dreary winter’s 
ride from the city, cold, hungry, and perhaps 
discouraged fas who is not at times?),the cheerful 
greeting of a.smiling, neatly dressed woman, 
and more than all, the blazing fire, and a well- 
Jaden supper-table waiting only for father, will 
do much to lighten any burden, and to inspire 
him with renewed activity for business and 
life. 
No good housekeeper or duty-loving wife 
delays the preparation of meals of the day till 
after or just before the coining in of the men 
from the field. How tedious it must bo for 
them to be obliged to wait for food which 
should have been previously prepared! How 
unpleasant to them to move from this side to 
that., and from, that to this, that you may get 
nearer to the stove or t he oven, thus reminding 
them that they are in the way, wheu the fault 
is really your owu! 
Then, if you had trouble with your servants 
or the chidren have been unusually cross, do 
not weary your husband with your fretting 
and complaints, and unless you are sick 
enough to need his active attendance, or the 
advice of a physician, do not tell him of it; 
nothing weakens the strings of affection soon¬ 
er than a constant fault finding disposition. 
Do not excuse yourself from the duty of mak¬ 
ing home pleasant, because your husband is 
cross and morose. May not your dilatoriness 
in household matters have something to do 
with this? At any rate, try the better way; 
make home cheerful and pleasant to your hus¬ 
band and children, and at the same time you 
will find that life and home will have new 
charms, and new comforts unfelt before, for 
you. F. W. CLARK. 
“CAN MONEY BE MADE BY FARMING 
IN NEW ENGLAND?” 
This question is asked ever)* day; some less 
ambitious souls contenting themselves with 
inquiring: “Can a living for a family be made 
by farming in New England?” These queries 
will be answered either in the affirmative or 
negative, as the standpoint varies from which 
the questions are viewed. Fifty years ago in 
the most fertile parts of Connecticut many a 
farmer with large families of Children, not 
only made a liviug from his farm, but left his 
sons possessed of farms (not as large as his 
own, but largo enough) aud to each of his 
daughters a sum of money which in those days 
was considered sufficient. Now, the question 
arises, could this lie done to-day? From our 
observation aud experience we do not hesitate 
to say that without some income liesides the 
produce of the farm to start with, it could not 
be done, without going buck to a manner of 
life for which our young people are wholly 
unprepared. Let us see—we liave in our 
mind two farmers in the town of—Hilltop 
(let us call it), and these examples might be 
multiplied indefinitely. One of these men’s 
ancestors was poor, unlearned and originally 
from the rough parte of Rhode Island, which 
have remained rough to this day. A son of 
the family came to this town, where arc now 
some of the model faims of New Eugland, 
more than half a century ago. He bought, a 
place of four or five hundred acres, heavily 
mortgaged. It was all cleared land, aud the 
whole family were “tigers” for work; they 
had no superfluities, they kept no help, the 
eldest daughter rnilkiug her ten cows with her 
brothers. They were a naturally bright and in¬ 
telligent, large family, of which the members 
worked to the extent of their powers t he father 
and mother leading. They made the best 
cheese, not only in New England, but in the 
country; they raised the largest fields of corn, 
ami the heaviest hogs in the town. In those 
days, the Corn of the West was unknown, and 
the porkers of Chicago had not ‘come to the 
fore’. The women spun, and wove and knit, 
the children sewed carpet rags, and braided 
whip lashes in the evening. The furniture of 
their home, though comfortable was of the 
plainest; they all ate in the kitchen together 
and all washed at the sink. They gave no par¬ 
ties except once a year, the “sewing society” 
they had but little time for visiting, and every¬ 
thing that could by any possibility be made at 
home, was homo made. The older members 
were tough, they worked early aud late, aud 
they thought all the rest could do the same. 
One young creature, of more delicate fibre than 
the others, succumbed, and went to rest, but 
the others worked on. The mortgage was 
taken up before many years, aud in the end, 
the father died leaving each <>f his sons a well 
cultivated farm, and each daughter with a 
lien upon her brothers, and a jointure sufficient 
to pay a small board. Now for their descen- 
deuts; some have gone West, aud those who 
still occupy the farms make their chief profits 
not from farming, but from city boarders, 
thus having the prospect of a shorter and eas¬ 
ier way to competence than their ancestor. 
Another farmer whom I have in view inher¬ 
ited his farm and lived with his family, 
a wife and one child upon the homestead, 
and died leaving a comfortable estate. 
But was it made by farming proper? Hard¬ 
ly, since the greater part of his gains came 
from '‘cattle trading,” for which lie had a won¬ 
derful talent, aud with a very frugal wife, his 
money accumulated. There are very few of 
the proprietors of landed estate in Hilltop 
who can be said to live by the produce of their 
farms. There can lie counted within a radius 
of three miles from the centre of this very 
grave old Puritanic town, almost settled bv 
the passengers of the Mayflower, at least 10 or 
a dozen of the best farms belonging to Irish¬ 
men, bought and paid for. They can live on 
the product of their farms and bring up large 
families, which must surely people these parts, 
for the original stock is growing “beautifully 
less” every year. They know how to live 
economically, they hire no help, but change 
work as our farmers did in olden time. 
The}' buy far more than the earlier inhabitants 
of whom I have written. These, our adopted 
citizens are industrious, frugal, excellent 
farmers, and they all came here penniless 
within the last fiO years. This we fancy is (he 
general state of things throughout New Eng¬ 
land. Near cities or large towns, of course 
farming pays better, and in some places the 
summer boarders bring traffic in garden stuff, 
small fruits, etc. From our standpoint then 
we conclude that n farm isa wonderfully pretty 
plaything for a man of large menus, a delight¬ 
ful home to one with a thousand or two to 
make both ends meet, and a means of living, 
to a family accustomed to self denial and not 
afraid of constant hard work. claude. 
PHEBE’S RAG CARPET. 
All through the long, bright Summer, 
Phebe was busy as a bee in all her spare 
moments over a little project she had in hand, 
which should add much to the home comfort 
through the long, cold Winter. She was bent 
upon making a strong rng carpet to spread 
down on the bare floor of the family room. 
She diligently gathered and saved all the 
scraps and worn-nut garments about, the 
house, and if she did not “heg” like our fair 
workers in “crazy patchwork,” she was very 
thankful when kind aunts aud cousins sent her 
even a small contribution to her stock. A 
little basket was kept always handy, and when 
she had some waiting minutes, you would hear 
the click of her bright shears cutting up the 
scraps into strips, and the pile grew very fast. 
When it came to sewing, even the boys were 
ready to help, after she taught them the 
science. It was a poor day when one great 
ball was not added to the largo basket, and it 
was just a recreation to Phebe to slip them 
into a large sack and weigh them every few 
days. 
“But I am afraid we can never afford the 
weaving,” said mother rather despondently. 
“Only get me the warp, mother, and I can 
weave it myself. I’ve talked it over with good 
Mrs. Booth, and she will let me use her loom 
and teach me also. I liave 'woven a little on 
her carpet sometimes.” 
So the work sped, and on a rainy day in 
November the long widths were tacked down, 
the furniture re-arranged, and the family took 
possession that dreary evening, with a sense 
of comfort and riches, thut only such well- 
earned possessions can ever give. The baby 
crept about on the warm floor with great de¬ 
light; little Nannie sat down on the carpet to 
point out bits of goods which she recognized; 
father praised Phebe’s indust ry and persever¬ 
ance; mother reflected with pleasure on the 
great saving of work it would be, as well as 
the added comfort; the boys all liked it, so 
on the w hole it was a happy day for Pbcbo. 
It was a great enterprise for a girl of Hi to 
carry through, aud she deserved all the praise 
she received. But the gain to her was more 
than the gain to the family. She had learned 
many valuable lessons over it, and not the 
least was how blessed it is to work for the 
good of those we love. She had learned to 
overcome difficulties, and many « time after¬ 
wards the thought of that rag carpet encou¬ 
raged her to feel that “where there is a will 
there is also a way.” 
That good oarpet deadened many a discord¬ 
ant sound, aud diffused a sense if comfort 
through the humble room. So the influence 
of this eldest daughter was a blessing to all 
the household. Yet while she was ministering 
to the happiness of all the household by her 
dally walk and conversation, she was in the 
most substantial manner contributing. Those 
who live for seif are of all others most unhap¬ 
py, and those with the widest hearts are the 
happiest. olive. 
Domestic Cconoiraj 
CONDUCTED BY MRS. AGNES E. M. CARMAN. 
MY FIRST DAY OF HOUSEKEEPING. 
I shall never forgot it, and 1 shall always 
hold that gas stove responsible for all its dis¬ 
asters. It was nearly two years ago, and 
though 1 was not a novice in housekeeping, 
yet common housekeeping is very different 
from trying to live amicably with a gas stove, 
especially if you are not in the least familiar 
with its disposition. 
It was a pleasant home to which “John” 
took rue after our short wedding trip, and his 
mother—a sweet, gentle lady, never strong— 
had quite worn herself out in the attempt to 
get up a lovely little reception for us. So the 
next day she was obliged to keep her room 
most of the time, and “John” staid in the 
house an hour or two to show me where things 
were and initiate me into the mysteries of 
that awful stove. It. looked harmless aud 
seemed so easy to manage that “not a wave 
of trouble rolled across my peaceful breast” 
when I set the milk on to make some blanc¬ 
mange. Alas for human hopes and ignorance! 
I had not the smallest idea that that little 
circle of fiendish blue flames could beat any¬ 
thing so quickly, and before 1 knew it the 
milk had boiled over aud put out the fire. 
I wasn't sure what to do at such a crisis. 
John had gone, and not daring to run any risk. 
I had to go up staiis und ask mother. Site 
told me, but I am sure she did not realize the 
situation or she would not have detained me 
so long to talk. I couldn’t leave at once with¬ 
out seeming rude, and although it was but a 
few minute's, I was haunted by a vague fear 
that something might be going wrong with 
that cooking machine, and at the first possible 
moment hurried down. Something was wrong, 
for during ruy absence the cap, or whatever it 
was, had cooled so that gas was no longer 
generated, and as I had left the valve open, 
the fluid bail begun to flow. Not knowing 
what else to do I applied a match, and then, 
oh! then, my countrymen! there was a blaze 
that shot, nearly to the ceiling. I was terri¬ 
fied—I was frantic. John wouldn’t be back 
till noon; I couldn’t bear to alarm the invalid 
mother unless obliged to, and I dared not 
leave that rampant blaze to its owu wicked 
devices long enough to go to the neighbors 
for help. There seemed nothing to do but 
stare helplessly at the flames, for nothing ap¬ 
peared to be on lire except the stove, or rather 
the space above it., and what good could it do 
to throw water on gas? 1 was fairly petrified 
with fear lest, the ceiling should take lire. 
Had I come to that house only to burn it up 
the first thing, and would no one come to help 
me? 
Gradually the fire lowered, and though I 
had no assurance that the whole reservoir 
would not take fire next., I stood the ground 
“whence all but me had fled,” aud bravely— 
did nothing. When at last the flames con¬ 
tracted to proper dimensions, 1 turned the 
valve and extinguished them in the legitimate 
way. Then I pared some j iota toes and once 
more approached my dread enemy, A g.»s 
stove has no stability whatever: it is full of 
freaks and seems to be a combination of 
witches, demons and gun-powder. Every 
time I lighted it, it would spurt or hiss or puff 
up or out. or do some queer, jerky, spasmodic 
thing to keep my nerves lively. 
Dearmel how those potatoes did boil! and 
before there was scarcely time to turn around 
the water had all turned into steam and there 
was an odor Of scorched potatoes. They 
weren’t all burned, however, and what were 
good I put into a crock and proceeded to mash. 
At the very first lunge of the masher (and it 
was quite a moderate sort of hinge, too) the 
bottom of the crock broke, I saved most of 
the potatoes (mm that second \\ reek, and won¬ 
dered if I was destined to become a dish- 
smasher as well as house-burner. Oh, dear! 1 
really do believe I got something else for din¬ 
ner on that direful day, but for the life of me 
1 can’t, remember what! I only remember that 
the gentle mother considerately praised “those 
nice potatoes.” I shall always bless her for 
that, but I reserved the privilege of smiling 
privately over the dish-pan, and to this day 
she docs not know what painful vicissitudes 
those potatoes and 1 experienced. John told 
me that unlucky crock aud several ot it.s boon 
companions had become badly cracked by 
beiug used as cooking utensils over the intense 
lieat of t.lmt stove. I had not seen the cracks, 
so, after all, that same evil-minded stove was 
to blame for the breakage, and not my gigan¬ 
tic (?) strength or carelessness. 
By the time the day was ended, I wasn’t in 
love with that gas stove, and advised Joliu to 
divorce it. He agreed, admitting t hat with such 
a dangerous thing in the house, a serious acci¬ 
dent was only a question of time. He knew a 
nice family with whom they had boarded lie- 
fore building, that lie thought would like to buy 
the stove, but he had too much regard for 
their welfare to wish to blow them up with it, 
he said, aud concluded uot to offer it to them. 
It was finally sold at. auction. We never knew 
who bought it, but devoutly hope they are 
still alive, sane and whole. 1 never used it 
after that one day, and I never wish to behold 
another. However, my innate sense of justice 
compels mi- to say t hat gas stoves do have a 
few virtues: they take up but little room, do 
not look like stoves, they cook rapidly, have 
uo smoke, ashes or dust, aud do not heat up the 
room at all. Anybody who wants one is welcome 
