518 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
Woman s Work. 
CONDUCTED BY EMILY L. TAPLIN. 
ONLY A WOMAN. 
Only a woman! A delicate woman! 
Who starts at the sight of a mouse; 
Whose weight Is four-score 
(Not many pounds more), 
And yet what a power In the house. 
Calmly, serenely, she orders her household 
With almost a soldierly drill; 
Prom chaos she’s bringing, 
Yet all the while singing, 
Sweet order, her part to fulfil. 
Only a woman ! a soft-hearted woman, 
Whose bright tears are ready to flow; 
And yet, whose small hand 
Is rnude to command 
In her womanly sphere here below. 
Small things may try her and ruffle her temper, 
And yet with g reat trials she’ll rise, 
And shame even man, 
With some well devised plan 
That must have dropped down from the skies. 
Only a woman! afar-sighted woman. 
Who strives to make men of her boys, 
Who reads their young hearts, 
The while she Imparts 
True principle in with their Joys. 
Tralulng her daughters—their constant companion— 
Softly leading them each by the hand, 
Teaching them truth 
In their innocent youth. 
That their names may be gold in the land. 
Only a woman ! A beaujlful woman, 
Now gliding through chamber and hall, 
Her laughter and song, 
That to home life belong, 
Robs many a heart of Its thrall. 
Joy of her children; queen of her husband; 
Who else may claim such a throne, 
St rong and endurlDg, 
Sweet peace ensuring. 
Who but fair woman alone? 
1 Credit lost. 
OF INTEREST TO WOMEN. 
Philosophers from all time have had their 
fling at women’s dress, but few are so unkind 
in their strictures as one who says: “By her 
habit, you may give a neere guesse at her 
Heart If (like a Coffin) shee be crowned 
with Garlands, and stuck with gay and 
gaudy flowei*s, it is certaine there is some¬ 
what dead within.”— Griffiths (“Bethel, ora 
Forme for Families,” 1(134.) 
Polydore Vergil says of mourning garments: 
“Plutarch writeth that the Women in their 
Mournyng laied a parte all purple, golde, and 
sumptuous Apparell, and were clothed, both 
thej* and their Kinsfolk, in white Apparell, 
like as then the ded Body was wrapped in 
white clothes. The white coloure was thought 
fittest for the ded, because it is clere, pure and 
Since®-, and leasts defiled. Of this Ceremonie, 
as I take it, the French Queues toke occasion, 
after the death of their housebondt® the 
Kynges, to weare onely white Clotbyug. and 
if there bee any such widdowe. she is common¬ 
ly called the White Quene. Mournying Gar¬ 
ments for the inoste parte be altogether of 
blacke coloure, and they use to weare them a 
whole year continually, onlesse it bee because 
of a generall triumphs or rejoyayug, or newe 
Magistrate cbosyug, or else when thei bee 
toward Marriage.” 
Addison thus describes his woman of ideal 
dress; a description as applicable now as 
when written 170-odd years ago: “Flavia is 
ever well-dressed and always the genteelest 
woman you meet; but the make of her mind 
very much contributes to the ornament of her 
body. She has the greatest simplicity of man¬ 
ners of any of her sex. This makes everything 
look native about her, and her clothes are so 
exactly fitted that they appear, as it were 
part of her person. Everyone that sees her 
knows her to he of quality; but her distinc¬ 
tion is owing to her manner, and not her habit. 
Her beauty is full of attraction, but not of al¬ 
lurement. There is such a composure in her 
looks, and propriety in her dress, that you 
would think it impossible she should change 
the garb you one day see her in for anything 
so becoming, until you next day see her in an¬ 
other. There in no mystery in this, but that, 
however she is apparelled, she is herself the 
same; for there is so immediate a relation be¬ 
tween our thoughts and gestures that a woman 
must think well to look well.” 
Though Flavia existed long before Mrs. 
MerrifteJUl wrote “Dress as a Fine Art” she 
expressed perfectly the ideas given in that 
work. Hays the authoress: “The immediate 
objects of dress are twofold—namely, decency 
and warmth; but bo many minor considera¬ 
tions are suffered to influence us in choosing 
our habiliments that these primary objects 
are too frequently kept out of sight. Dress 
should lie not only adapted to the climate; it 
should also be light in weight, should yield to 
the movements of the body, and should be 
easily put on or removed. It should also be 
adapted to the station in society and to the 
age of the individual. These are the essential 
conditions; yet in practice how frequently are 
they overlooked; in fact, how seldom are 
they observed! Next in importance are gen¬ 
eral elegance of form, harmony in the ar¬ 
rangement and selection of the colors and 
special adaptation in form and color to the 
person of the individual.” 
Good St. Francis de Sales would have re¬ 
garded the work quoted as a foolish vanity, if 
not worse, for lie says: “The married woman 
may and ought to adorn herself when she is 
with her husband, and he desires it; but if she 
should do so when she is at a distance from 
him, it will lie asked whose eyes she desires to 
please with that particular card A greater 
liberty is allowed to maidens, because they 
may lawfully desire to be agreeable to many, 
although with no other outcut than to gain 
one by holy marriage. Neither is it esteemed 
amiss that widows wiio purpose to marry 
should adorn themselves in some measure, 
provided they betray no levity; for, having 
already been mistresses of families and passed 
through the griefs of widowhood, they are 
considered to be of a more mature and settled 
mind.” However his protest against undue 
regard for dress iu married women is more 
than counterbalanced by his opinion that 
maidens may l>e allowed more scope in the 
matter, though the pious monk is a little btt 
mean in suggesting that our only purpose 
should be the capture of a husband. This re¬ 
calls one of the New’ Jersey blue law's, still ex¬ 
tant, though we believe not enforced rigidly. 
This statute declares that any maid or widow 
w’ho shall decoy into matrimony any of His 
majesty’s subjects, by the use of paint, pow¬ 
der, false hair, high beels, or any attire calcu¬ 
lated to deceive, shall be judged guilty of 
witchcraft, and punished for the same. 
FITNESS. 
“They're all farmers!” 
The speaker, a ragged, dirty’ little fellow, 
was right; and I glanced instinctively’ around 
at our crowd, to see how r he hail found us out so 
quickly, and why he seemed so disgusted. 
In face, form, or expression, I saw no percep¬ 
tible difference between this and a city crowd; 
a trifle more sunburn and rosiness, maybe, 
and not much either, for pink and white 
complexions are not the fashion at this season 
even iu the city. So to my, perhaps, partial 
eyes, we looked quite as intelligent and bright 
as other people, and so I came to the conclu¬ 
sion that the difference must be iu our cloth¬ 
ing, for I was obliged to confess, that here 
was a difference, and not in our favor either. 
Not that the women were dressed in 
“caliker” or the men in “home-spun,” as some 
writers are fond of picturing country folk. 
No, we had goue to the other extreme. 
A city girl, would not think of going on a 
railroad excursion to a lake shore pic-nic, 
wearing a lace trimmed violet satin dross, and 
Gainsborough hat with snowy plumes: but a 
farmer’s daughter at my elbow was thus attir¬ 
ed: white dresses of swiss and cross-bar, elabo¬ 
rately trimmed with lace aud embroidery were 
met at every’ turn, and on the elders, brocade 
aud satin were more common than gray, 
brown and black cloth, which would have 
been so much more appropriate to the occasion. 
Feeling as disgusted as the small boy looked, 
at the lack of fitness thus displayed, it made 
me think that it would be well to pay more 
attention to this subject—Fitness. Not alone 
in dress do we err, but in many other things, 
which not only make us almost ridiculous to 
thoughtful people, but also causes much out¬ 
lay of time, money’ aud strength, which we 
can ill afford. 
It is no uncommon thing to see a low roomed 
cottage in the country furnished in imitation 
of its statelier sister of the city, with heavy 
curtains and stuffy upholstery, when light, 
tasteful chad's and tables aud airy draperies 
would be so much prettier aud agree with its 
surroundings. 
If houses were studied and fitting articles 
selected without regard to prevailing fashions, 
more satisfaction for our money would be ob¬ 
tained aud fewer changes desired. But some 
one will say: 
“Yes if you have plenty of mouey > r ou can 
do this but we cuunot exercise our taste.” 
This may be true iu some cases, but gener¬ 
ally those who ma ke this plea are the ones who 
scrimp and suve in order to get some costly 
articles because their richer neighbor has them, 
without thinking whether they will tit or not 
such articles generally’ proving “apples of 
,Sodom” to their possessor, li we would be 
satisfied at all, we must choose with discrimin¬ 
ation everything from the food we eat to the 
sermon we listen to. If I am in the country 
I expect fresh fruit and vegetables—ices and 
costly confectionaries are not lilting, if 1 am 
tired, cad, discouraged, I want to listen to the 
minister, who will toll me of a Savior’s love 
and care, not earing whether his sentences are 
well rounded and delivered with the gestures 
of an orator or not. If I go simply to be enter¬ 
tained, then I shall choose the orator. Farm 
ers are not the only ones who blunder into un¬ 
fitness, either pf p Jot bos, rri aimers or furniture, 
but there is much room for improvement with 
us. Circumstances do alter cases, and we 
would be better, happier, and more useful if 
we studied them more aud fitted into them bet¬ 
ter. Life is made Up of small thiugs, and no¬ 
thing is too trivial to lie thought over and 
made the best of. mary mann. 
THE NECESSITY OF DESULTORY 
READING. 
We expect that all the wise people who be¬ 
lieve strictly iu the Gradgrind view of read¬ 
ing w’ill look upou our title with cold scorn, to 
say the least. But we don’t use the term desul¬ 
tory as meaning hasty, capricious, or vacil¬ 
lating; but. returning to the Latin derivative 
we find that the name Desuitor was applied to 
a warrior who leaped from charger to charger 
in battle, thus gaining increasing energy and 
activity. This is the true idea in desultory 
reading—not cramming a quantity of undi¬ 
gested knowledge, but obtaining a variety of 
information, w’hile increasing the range of in¬ 
tellect. by the same means. 
Au old proverb says: “Beware of the man 
of one book,” and truth to tell, the person 
w’ho only reads one book, or one author, has 
too often the capacity of becoming au un¬ 
mitigated bore both to himself aud to others. 
On the contrary, one acquainted, even slight¬ 
ly, with a wide range of subjects is usually 
able to converse pleasantly aud intelligently 
with many people of diverse acquirements. 
Very few women having many household 
cares can give much time to reading, aud we 
most strongly recommend so-called desultory 
reading for their stray half hours. If they 
confine themselves to one subject in solid 
reading, they are much in the position of a 
person only possessing a §50 bill when there is 
occasion for small change. We all ought to 
have a background of solid information, but 
we must also possess ligh er weapons for con¬ 
versational sharp-shooting. Heavy knowl¬ 
edge only is apt to give a formal pedantry 
very disagreeable in general society. 
So, to a person of tuauy occupations, news¬ 
papers aud magazines are really the best liter¬ 
ary food. True, you get a good deal of froth, 
but it is both sparkling and palatable, aud 
there is always a.sub-stratum of information, 
and that of the best. We hear many com¬ 
plaints of “new’spaper English,” but we think 
some of our “solid” writers are quite as apt to 
be slip-shod in their diction as these busy 
scribes who picture dally history as it flies. 
As a general rule, women do not read the 
new’spajiers sufficiently, and this is one branch 
of desultory reading they may find very ad¬ 
vantageous; it gives a much broader outlook, 
removing prejudice and provincialism. As 
for the magazines, they are always brinimiug 
over with good things, both informational and 
amusing, from the latest discovery of science 
to the most recent folly of fashion. 
We should alw’ays give place in our desul¬ 
tory reading for a fair supply of good fiction. 
The projter study of mankind is man, and 
where eau we find bright, delineation of all 
our follies, frailities and virl lies as in a clever 
novel? if we hnppen to be shut up in a box, 
as far os society is concerned, our faithful 
friend, the novelist, takes ns by the hand and 
introduces us to a host of book friends, whom 
we soon regard with positive affection. 
We end our little homily with the words of 
one who believed himself in desultory reading 
—and desultory writing, too—the great master 
who added Colonel Newcome to our list of 
book friends: “Might I give counsel to any 
young man, I would say to him, try to fre¬ 
quent the company of your betters. In books 
aud in life that is the most wholesome society. 
Learn to admire rightly; the great pleasure 
of life is that. Note wdiat great men admired; 
they admired great things; uarrow spirits 
admire basely and worship meanly.” 
IN WOODLAND SHADES. 
What can be better for mind aud body, 
these midsummer days than an impromptu 
picnic? Not the set, artificial affair that 
usually goes by that name, where a church or 
school or society takes a journey to some 
“grove,” so-called, where lemonade venders 
and that ilk turn the face of uat.uro into a 
Cockney imitat ion. No, we mean an occasion 
where a dozen or more congenial spirits, re¬ 
presenting one or two families, take to the 
wood, accompanied by their hammocks and 
lunch baskets, there to spend a happy, gypHy 
day. We have assisted, to our sorrow, at one 
or two festive occasions of the first mentioned 
type, at which all the girls wore gay muslin 
and lace frocks, that made ui\y attempt at 
gypsy abandon an impossibility, and where 
the artificial surroundings made the assump¬ 
tion of one’s best society manner appear a 
necessity. But these were not real siuton 
pure picnics. 
There was another joyous occasion,at which 
we assisted in the Fj’^ncJ) ppusp of the word—- 
where plain cotton frocks and spontaneous 
gayety were the rule. The scene was a pic¬ 
turesque grove, natural as Arden itself, with 
its leafy trees aud sparkling spring. The pic- 
nickel’s came out for a day's relapse into prim¬ 
itive condition, consequently there were no 
society maners, no heart-burnings, no social 
fiction. Some botanized, some sketched, some 
read or w’rote, according to their several fan¬ 
cies. The only material drawback w’as the 
presence of several objectionably tame cows, 
who possessed amiable and inquiring minds. 
One of them ate a doiley and a package of ham 
sandwiches early in the day, while another, 
an ingenuous beast, with a terra cotta com¬ 
plexion and a fluffy bang, much embarrassed 
the student of the party, who w’as trying to 
read, hi - hovering around with a beseeching 
air that seemed to demand more sandwiches. 
Finally the student responded to her pleading 
with biscuits and ginger-bread, but as the re¬ 
sult of this the entire herd hung round beg¬ 
ging for biscuits, until the picnic party was 
obliged to request the removal of these too- 
eonflding animals. A picnic of this type— 
barring the cows—is one of the best things 
to strengthen tired nerves and over-worked 
bodies; the pure air, novelty, and placidity 
will do much to rest nervous, worried people 
iu city or country’. Try it. 
GOLDEN GRAINS. 
It is no virtue, but only luxury, to take 
away the crown of thorns from a lacerated 
brow, the prickly girdle from sore nerves.— 
Jean Paid Richter ... 
Is thy friend angry with thee? Then pro¬ 
vide him an oportunity of showing thee a 
great favor! Over that his heart must needs 
melt, and he will love thee again.— Richter ... 
I chose my wife, as she did her wedding 
gown, for qualities that would wear well.— 
Goldsmith . 
Be loving, and you will never want for love ; 
be humble, and you will never want for guid¬ 
ing.— Dinah Mulock Oraik . 
As a rule it will lie found that it is not the 
poor who practice small economics. If they 
had the will aud the skill to make the most of 
what they have they would soon rise from 
their losv estate.—Good Housekeeping . 
No book is worth anything which is not 
worth much; nor is it serviceable until it has 
been read and re-read, and loved and loved 
again, so that you can refer to the passages 
you want in it, as a soldier can seize the 
weapon he needs in an armory, or a house¬ 
wife bring the spice she needs from her store. 
—Ruskin . . 
Domestic 0coiTomij 
CONDUCTED BY MRS. AGNES E. M. CARMAN. 
GOOD BYE. 
And must I leave the dear old home. 
Afar on foreign shores to roam? 
And are the moments drawing nigh 
When I must give the sad good bye? 
Each little tree, and bush, aud vine, 
Doth round my very heart entwine; 
Each tiook and corner seemeth dear, 
Each bit of landscape far, or near. 
Hath Its own rale of love for me. 
And, more than sad my heart shall be 
To leave the dear familiar scene 
Where much of life’s best Joy hath been. 
Ah me! the world Is large, and wide 
And lioldeth much of sin beside- 
And here, within these sheltering walls 
So much of peace, and comfort falls, 
So much of beauty always nigh, 
Tls hard, old home, to say good bye. 
Long years may pass ere we again 
May gase ou thee-and yet uot vatu 
Are all life’s changing scenes, we know 
Each hath his part aud work below. 
And not In valu the cross we bear— 
It polnteth to a laud more fair— 
When we, with all our conflicts o’er, 
Shall rest In peace, forevermore. 
MRS. 8. B. EATON. 
HOUSE-KEEPING IN CALIFORNIA.— 
XII, 
MARY-WAGKR FISHER. 
One day a fair, young matron came in an¬ 
nouncing herself as a next-door neighbor. “I 
have long wank'd to come in aud see you,” 
she tiegan, but I have been so very busy. You 
see I have four little children; my mother is 
an invalid and I have no servant. My hus¬ 
band won’t let me have a Chinainau in the 
house on account of the children. We give 
out our washing, and I am supposed to have a 
colored woman come iu every week for a day 
—only half the time she doesn’t come; aud as 
for a white woman in the kite hen, I can assure 
you it is impossible to get along with one. 
They arc unwilling to do washing, they want 
very high wages, and arc out every afternoon 
aud cun never lie depended upon iu the even¬ 
ings; while their impertinence is intolerable. 
What the housekeepers on this coast will do if 
gll the Chinese are drjyeq put I don’t know. 
