SEPT 25 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
horn and Holstein cattle are rapidly growing 
in favor in New England, that some of the fin¬ 
est Jerseys are to be found in Maine, that. Ayr- 
shires make friends wherever they go, that 
Swiss cattle are becoming popular and that 
breeders of Devons do not seem to care much 
about pushing their stock to the front. 
Thk Livingston Co., N. Y., fair will be 
held at Geneseo, Oct. <3 and T. The Premium 
List contains extracts from the St ate law's, re¬ 
lating to the protection of property at fairs. 
The powers of the managers as to the appoint¬ 
ment of policemen aud the preservation of 
property are clearly defined. It is well to 
have such matters understood. 
iVUscdUincoiis. 
CATALOGUES, ETC., RECEIVED. 
J. T. Lovett, Little Silver, Monmouth 
Co., N. J.—A circular of the new blackberry 
“Erie,” and of the new strawberry “Mon¬ 
mouth.” We are trying the Erie, but can’t 
report as yet. It is highly praised by a num¬ 
ber of trustworthy fruit growers who have 
fruited it. 
Ell w r anger & Barry, Rochester, N. Y. 
—A descriptive catalogue of select roses. Ell- 
wanger & Barry have had uuder trial many 
new varieties since the last edition of this cat¬ 
alogue was issued one year ago, but their ex¬ 
perience, thus far, does not justify them iu 
placing them iu the catalogue. Only oue va- 
ety has been aided, viz.: Her Majesty, aud 
she has not behaved very well. This variety, 
with W. F. Bennet, American Beauty and The 
Bride was ordered from several different firms 
in the Spring, but except The Bride, they are 
either dead or have made very little growth. 
The Bride has done fairly well aud its beauti¬ 
ful flowers except, color are much the same as 
Mermet, of wdiich it is a sport. The flowers 
are white, sometimes rose-tinted on the outer 
petals. 
Nineteenth Annual Report of the Ohio 
State Horticultural Society, G. W. Campbell, 
Secretary, Delaware, O. The report contains 
240 pages aud we hope to refer to it again. 
lUxnnans VUork. 
CONDUCTED BY EMILY L. TAPLIN. 
A RETROSPECT. 
"It fs fair as the flush of dawn.” he said, 
"And sweet as the breath of May ; 
Rut so slight a part of the da}' has fled, 
Aud roses will bloom along the way— 
win not gather tills dew kissed flower 
To fade In t he noontide's heat, 
I will wall awhile—another hour— 
Time tlieth all too fleet, 
I will watt till the burden of day has passed, 
And evening's cool shadows eume at last; 
Then willl gather a fairer rose. 
Tit an any tliat In this garden grows.” 
So he Journeyed Idly all the day. 
His path was hedged With t he ripening grain: 
Soft and low, from the distant way. 
Came the reaper’s faint refrain. 
But the suti went down in a blackening cloud. 
Aud the wind blew shrill anti cold. 
The frail earth shook with the thunder loud, 
And the lightning’s flash grew bold. 
He hurried on to the dim daik wood. 
Where the swaying, storm tossed inonarchs stood; 
Hut he retired In their gloomy depths to stay 
So turned hint backward on his way. 
He wandered backward- but glanced behind 
in doubt to go—yet loth to stay. 
It seemed to him that the shrlllliiR wind 
Mockingly whispered "Which way?” 
He thought of the rose, so fair and sweet; 
”1 will gather its fragrance yet," he said; 
Aud hastened backward with foot-steps fleet 
O’er the path Where so late they had fled. 
But the rose was gone!—Its petals lay 
Tossed and torn by the wind sprite’s play, 
And never more, through the sun or rain. 
Will its frail sweet beauty bloom again. 
—France K, Jia.lt/, fa San Francisco New Age. 
OF INTEREST TO WQMEN. 
The opal is again to be a fashionable stone, 
according to the jewelers. 
Fashion says that the coming ear-ring is an 
immense ball of rough gold, either plain or 
with jewels sunk deep in the metal. They 
are said to be almost as large as tennis balls, 
rather a Fiji Island idea. 
Apparently the plain coat sleeve will not 
continue to enjoy its monopoly, since dress¬ 
makers abroad are trimming elaborately from 
the shoulder to the elbow. Still, the woman 
who knows that she has a pretty arm will be 
reluctant to disguise it. 
Siuee the servants of a Pennsylvania town 
have formed into a protective union, they de¬ 
cline to outer a family where they are ex¬ 
pected to wash or iron, and in few cases will 
one girl undertake the work of a family. 
The next thing will be a mistresses protective 
association, aud if they always decline to hire 
a girl who cannot show a good character from 
a former employer, make arrangement about 
breakages, and rigidly insist on the month’s 
notice before leaving, they may do some good 
to the down-trodden mistresses. 
The Czarina of all the Russians is a model 
to many housewives. The Chicago Times 
says: “She rises early, and, though most 
dainty and fastidious in all her toilet arrange¬ 
ments, is always ready at 10 o clock. Mass is 
said at 11 and breakfast is served at 12, Her 
Majesty does not, affect robes de chamber nor 
deshabilles, but bas adopted for morning wear 
the simple costumes of line cloth or wool a la 
Angldisc, with narrow collar and cuffs. Her 
beautiful hair, silky aud shining, always 
exquisitely arranged, completes her daily toi¬ 
let. so thoroughly ‘ueat,’ with that freshness 
which is so much admired in the English 
household of the Princess of Wales. The Em¬ 
peror declares that there is not another woman 
in the world who so thoroughly understands 
the art of dress.” 
LETTING THINGS SLIDE. 
FROM ANOTHER STANDPOINT. 
“The philosophy of lettiug things slide! 
That sounds well enough, but wheu one 
woman has to cook, sweep and dust, help the 
children with their lessons, aud start them off 
to school, make new gowns aud make over 
old ones, mend, and wash dishes, and tie up 
cut fingers, while she entertains guests, assists 
her husband in his business, and tries to do 
her duty to the needy iu between times—what 
iu the world is she to let slide? She bids fair 
to realize Mrs. Gargery’s description, ’a slave 
as uever has her aprou off. 1 ” 
This half-querulous plaint would express the 
inmost feelings of many a tired housewife, if 
she could ever find time to put her ideas down 
in black and wince. What should we let 
slide? That is the question agitating many 
an overworked woman. 
We are so often told of the wonders in the 
way of house-work accomplished by our grand¬ 
mothers—how they baked and spun and wove; 
carded wool, and made their husbands’ clothes, 
and brought Up great families of sturdy sous 
aud daughters. But there were but 24 hours 
in a day, thou as now, aud it is our deeply 
rooted convictiou that our grandmothers 
did not really work harder than we do; they 
must have let something slide, aud wo should 
do the same. What to leave undone each 
woman must decide for herself. To a woman 
carefully trained, with the good-housedceeper- 
instinct ingrained in every fibre of her being, 
it is often absolute misery to leave undone the 
things she ought to have done. The very idea 
of letting things slide brings to her indignant 
lips the one word, “shiftless,” and there is no 
severer terms in her lexicon: To he shiftless, to 
haveno “faculty,” as they say in New England, 
is to be a very pariah, and it. is exasperating iu 
iu some cases—“there is a point beyond which 
forbearance ceases to bo a virtue.” But 
ordinarily there is little doubt that the right, 
way to take life is to take it cosy. We must 
do our duty, to the full extent of our power, 
but we need not, create imaginary duties that 
are in reality superfluities. It, was a great, 
though obscure philosopher who said, ‘'give 
me the luxuries of life aud I care nothing for 
the necessities ” We fear too many of us hold 
similar opinions, though we may not so 
frankly avow them. 
So, too busy housewife, let the luxuries 
slide, aud only work for the necessi¬ 
ties. Of course you will regard men¬ 
tal aud moral culture as a necessity. Iron 
aud stitch fewer frills, make less pastry 
aud preserves, if you will, but cultivate the 
finer graces of miud and heart with and for 
your children. Aud, let me whisper, if you 
are bent on frills and furbelows, indulge in 
them for yourself as well as your little girls. 
Let them always remember mother’s pretty 
gowns and pretty ways, and wisely neglecting 
the needless worries of a household. Keep a 
bright faith aud a bright heart for the trials 
you cannot let slide. 
-»♦« - 
SEPTEMBER. 
Oh these glorious golden days! They make 
one’s heart throb with gladness and carry 
one’s memory back to the days of youth, 
when hope and joyful anticipations of a glad 
coming time in the near future would gild the 
lifelong day with happiness. 
How many of these golden dreams have 
been realized? We look back through the 
vista of long years and think of the days when 
we gathered the lovely golden rod, the bloom¬ 
ing asters and the purple live-forever, uud 
thought how life would be one glad era of 
brightness and joy; We wove webs of fairy 
texture in which to clothe ourselves, and built 
castles iu the air, that loug siuee have been 
demolished by stern reality. Youth is always 
hopeful and joyous. It is pleasant, to look 
back to the glad days when we stood on the 
verge of womanhood, never doubting the 
bright prospects that our fancy had pictured as 
the one we should tread through life. We never 
thought then of thorns piercing our feet or 
briers wounding our hands, or worse troubles 
piercing our hearts. The lovely September 
days were emblematic of our bright hereafter. 
So we left girlhood behind us and assumed the 
new duties and responsibilities of wifehood. 
Never regret the past that cannot be recalled; 
but bow many of the wives and mothers of 
the last decade would have ventured into the 
wedded state could they have looked forward 
aud seen with a truthful eye the cares, sor¬ 
rows aud vicissitudes of the life to come, that 
was mapped out before them? They would 
have shrunk back in consternation, and if they 
had advanced it would have been with fear 
aud trembling. 
But the hearts of the young are ever hope¬ 
ful. They know their mothers and their 
aunts have seen hardships; their life has been 
a struggle between grief and sickness; they 
have seen their friends fade and fall like the 
September leaves, but surely their road will 
bo smoother: a kind, loving hand will make 
their path easy. They will not have such a 
tedious journey. The sunlight will always 
shine on them: the dark shadows will fall on 
some other less favored ones. Aud so they 
press on. The bright September sun of life 
very soon gives way to the rough equinoctial 
storms; the frosts of October are quickly 
followed by the winds of bleak November and 
the blasts of a cold dreary Winter. Such is 
life! Brightness and suushine cannot linger 
forever; but it is pleasant to enjoy them as 
they pass along, and their memory is very 
pleasant as we look back through the corridors 
of Time. As our heads become sprinkled with 
the frosts of years the reminiscences of bygone 
days are pleasant, but very sad. We recall 
faces aud forms of loved ones that have passed 
away; been gathered into the great storehouse 
of the dread Harvester. s. H. R. 
KITCHEN WORK. 
There is no work in life where the old 
adage, “ Whatever is worth doing at all is 
worth doing well,” is more applicable than it 
is in the kitchen. Did you ever turn your 
kitchen over to the undisputed reign of a 
servant for a few weeks? If so, did you rec¬ 
ognize it after that reign was over? I re¬ 
member once in .wing into a house whose last 
occupant was a lady who kept two servants, 
and who had the name of never going into her 
kitchen. One glance at the floor convinced 
me that her name was not undeserved, aud I 
could not help thinking that if it had been 
mine I should have either wanted to keep out 
of it altogether, or else—I should have wanted 
to clean it,. As it was, ! did not trust, its renova¬ 
tion to other bauds, ami, although lam not fond 
of scrubbing, 1 experienced unalloyed satisfac¬ 
tion in my work after it was done. 
Of course, when oue takes tt servant from 
among the lowest Irish peasautry, oue does 
not expect to find a neat and trained house¬ 
keeper, but I have had girls from American 
families, whoso mothers were noted house¬ 
wives, who were lamentably ignorant of all 
housewifely ways. My last experience was 
with a bright, pretty girl of eighteen, from a 
home where thrift and good housekeeping are 
not strangers. Her first task was to wash the 
dinner dishes. She clattered the greasy plates 
with fragments of food into the dish-pan, to¬ 
gether with the spoons and silver forks, aud 
poured boiling water over the whole. The re¬ 
sult was a thick, greasy scum with riuds aud 
crusts bobbing in it—a mess that looked fit 
only for the swill-pail. The girl was intelli¬ 
gent aud willing to learn and I did not have 
to tell her twice about the proper way of doiug 
a thing; she had simply been neglected by her 
mother. There are so many mothers who, 
from a mistaken idea of what is for their 
daughters’ best interests, give them a few les¬ 
sons on the piano or in pointing, or some 
other accomplishment of which they can only 
get a smattering, and which will only serve to 
call attention to their ignorance. If mothers 
would believe it, their daughters will be hap¬ 
pier women, and better wives and mothers for 
being first, good housekeepers; after that if 
there is time aud money to spare, let them 
learn music or painting, or anything they or 
you may desire, but see to it first of all, and 
above all, that they are good housekeepers. If 
it is any comfort to you, you may remember 
that all of Queen Victoria’s daughters are fa¬ 
mous for their skill iu housewifery, and in 
everything that pertains to the duties of a 
wife aud mother. a mother. 
GOLDEN GRAINS. 
Coleridge says: “Common seuse iu an un¬ 
common degree is what the world calls wis¬ 
dom”... 
How often we are reminded wheu looking 
over current literature of Clark’s words. Mul¬ 
titudes of words, he says “are neither an ar¬ 
gument of clear ideas in the writer, nor a 
proper means of conveying clear notions to 
the reader”. 
South says; “Frequent consideration of a 
thing wearsoff the strangeness of it, and shows 
it iu its several lights and various ways of ap¬ 
pearance to the view of the miud”..,. 
Newton always looks on the bright side, he 
says; “Trials are medicines which the Great 
Physician prescribes because we need them. 
Then, let us trust iu His skill, and thank Him 
for His proscription”. 
Let the day have a blessed baptism by giv¬ 
ing your waking thoughts into the bosom of 
God. The first hour of the morning is the 
rudder of the day. 
Wai.k as if you were conscious that your 
body has a soul iu it,. 
Hume, the historian, has left on record his 
opinion that the disposition to look on the 
bright side of things, and to make the best of 
everything that is good is equivalent to a 
large fortune to its happy possessor. 
Knowledge must he earned; it eaunot be 
passively taken. Unless the mind works for 
its living it will always remain poor; ueither 
gifts nor legacies, neither houses nor lauds 
can enrich it .. .. 
A man started out for church one icy Sun¬ 
day morning, and presently came to a place 
where a little boy was standing, who, ivith 
choking A'oice, stud: "Please don’t step there.” 
“Why not?” “Because I stepped there and 
fell down,” sobbed the little fellow, who had 
thus taken upon himself to warn the unwary 
passer by of the danger into which he had 
fallen. 
It Ls well for us to be warned by the sad 
experience of others, and it is sometimes a 
duty for those who have fallen by these temp- 
tatious to lift a warning voice. There are 
slippery places all around us, and thousands 
are passing heedlessly along. Let us entreat 
them to beware, and, as we rememlier the 
bitter experiences of our own sinful lives, let 
us say to those avIio are just yielding to such 
temptations, “Don't step there, for I stepped 
there and fell down,”. 
Domestic ^conoimj 
CONDUCTED BY MRS. AGNES E. M. CARMAN. 
SUGGESTIONS. 
Lay in a store of quince jelly. 
Take care of your teeth—it pays. 
Avoid whispering in a sick room. 
This is to be another velvet season. 
Discourage your children in candy and nut 
eating. Let them buy fruit instead. 
A hop pillow will often induce sleep. 
In spite of all that is said about thoughtless 
daughters and over-worked mothers, it is, 
nine cases out of ten, the mother’s fault that 
the daughters do not relieve her of her cares. 
A feverish person can often be quieted by 
first, rubbing the body with a coarse towel, 
and afterward with alcohol. 
Fancy-work is fascinating, but my dear 
girl, don’t allow yourself to study out that 
pattern for shell lace, until you have darned 
the drawerful of stockings that have been gath¬ 
ering from week to week, iu spite of the oft- 
repeated conscience quieter; “I'll mend them 
to-morrow.” 
A neighbor tells us that black currants lose 
their disagreeable aroma in cooking, and that 
as a canned fruit they are simply delicious. 
A SEPTEMBER MENU. 
Scotch Broth. 
Roasted Chicken with a border of Rice. 
Sweet Potatoes. T.inm Beans. 
Cucumber and onion Salad, 
reach Merluuue. 
A good, wholesome soup, not too heavy*for 
a September dinner, is made from two pounds 
of knuckle of veal, two onions, four ounces of 
lean hunt (not smoked), one turnip and a 
bunch of parsley, with half a cup of barley. 
Soak the latter for several hours in enough 
milk to cover it, and put it over the fire to¬ 
gether with the meat anil bones and two 
quarts of water. Simmer slowly for three 
hours, add the vegetables that have been cut 
into dice and parboiled. Cook for another 
hour; pick out the moat aud bones, skim off 
the fat, if any, pour into the tureen aud serve. 
When you buy the knuckle of veal for the 
above soup, bargain also with your butcher 
for a sweetbread or a pair of them. Trim off 
the. skiu and fat and boil it in water contain¬ 
ing a small onion, a few sprigs of parsley an I 
salt; boil for 20 minutes, and then blanch it 
by dropping iu cold water. The livers of the 
chickens should have been boiled at the same 
time; chop all together until very tiue, and mix 
with half the quantity of bread crumbs. Clean 
*a pair of chickens und fill them with this 
force-meat seasoned to taste. Lay thorn in a 
baking-pau, aud cover the breasts with thin 
slices of suit pork secured to the skiu of the 
