r 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
i57 
190* 
Odd Pennies. 
Every woman or girl who has ever 
lived on a farm, knows that ready 
money comes harder than anything else. 
There is plenty to make home comfort-: 
able, but there is never very much sur¬ 
plus in the treasury. Usually her pin- 
money is something that she must earn 
for herself. In Summer we raise straw¬ 
berries for a near-by market, and as I 
am the only "women-folks,” I take 
whole charge of the picking and pack¬ 
ing. That means overseeing from 10 to 
30 children, for pickers, and turning out 
every basket of berries into another one. 
This comes every morning, and the 
crates are all off before eight o’clock. 
Of course I regard this as a part of my 
regular work on the farm, but if I am 
quick enough and the fruit comes in 
firm and ripe, I manage to pick a few 
baskets, or even a whole row, some¬ 
times. For this, I receive the same that 
any picker would get Then blueberries 
come, and I can earn a few dollar gath¬ 
ering them, selling with raspberries. 
In the Pall there are cranberries to 
harvest, but when the real Winter 
weather sets in, and the superfluous 
roosters have gone to market, there 
seems, really, to be nothing doing. I 
have tried all kinds of things; orders 
for hemstitching, Mexican drawn-work 
and Battenburg lace, but I found only 
disappointment and failure there. And 
so I decided to do something else that 
people did want; things that sought me. 
1 have a neighbor with a large family 
of growing children, most of them girls. 
This woman can sew, is smart and 
works hard, but she is utterly unable 
to cut or fit the simplest garment, and 
with her burden of cares she has no 
time to study style. I was visiting her 
one afternoon, and she showed me some 
material for shirt waists. “I know you 
make your own clothes, and they fit 
well, and are stylish,” she said, “Now, 
if you would get these waists of Mar¬ 
garet’s ready for sewing, I would be 
glad to give you 50 cents apiece, but 
there, I don’t suppose you like such 
work.” Here was an opportunity I had 
been longing for. I assured my friend 
that I would be glad to help her, and 
after that she kept me pretty busy. Al¬ 
though I am no dressmaker, I even at¬ 
tempted a jacket for a young woman 
who had heard of my work. Then a 
new family came to live near us, an old 
man and his wife. She was not well, 
and could do very little about the house. 
I used to run in occasionally and take 
them some hot doughnuts or a pie; per¬ 
haps a loaf of bread just out of the 
oven. One day they offered me $2 a 
week to come in three or four times dur¬ 
ing the week and sweep, wash the 
kitchen oilcloth, bake a little and keep 
things “picked up” in general. 1 
agreed. Sometimes I staid to tea and 
left everything ready for breakfast; and 
cheered them up a bit, I hope. Their 
loving appreciation made me rich in¬ 
deed, amply repaying any extra effort 
on my part. Then, too, I did odd bits 
of mending or sewing, for which the 
dear old lady would insist on making 
me a “present” since I refused “pay.” 
In our family we eat a great many 
doughnuts. In fact, I never allow the 
jar to get empty, and if “practice makes 
perfect,” as they say it does, it accounts 
for my success along that line of culi¬ 
nary art, and the sales I was enabled 
to make semi-weekly, and my customers 
were perfectly willing to come after 
them. I bought my material at whole¬ 
sale prices (thus getting my own 
cheaper), and made five cents on a 
dozen. No doubt 1 could have doubled 
that profit, but I chose rather a high 
standard of product, bringing steady, in¬ 
creasing sales that I could depend upon. 
I enjoy knitting. One day a visitor sat 
watching me at work on a pair of 
wrister^. 
“You knit as though you understood 
how and really liked to do it,” she re¬ 
marked. 
“Indeed I do,” I answered, laughing. 
“I have always done more or less since 
I was six years old. These are for my 
father. He thinks he gets more for his 
money, homemade.” She watched me in 
silence for awhile, then asked, abruptly: 
“Do you know how to knit mittens?” 
“Yes, certainly. I made Father a pair 
of double ones last Winter.” 
“Will you make two pairs for me? I 
will bring over an old pair of my hus¬ 
band’s for you to go by. You can set 
your own price.” 
I made them, and several more since 
then for other people. Now, I am not 
what we New Englanders call “a right 
smart kind of a woman.” I am just an 
ordinary person endowed with average 
brain power and plenty of ambition, re¬ 
solved not to be dependent on the head 
of the house every time I want five cents 
to put in the contribution box on Sun¬ 
day, or a new ribbon. And any woman 
can go and do likewise, without neglect¬ 
ing her duty in the home, imless her 
family is large or there are little ones 
requiring her care, adah e. colcord. 
Massachusetts. 
A SuNBONNET INQUIRY. —An inquirer 
who signs only the initials J. F. C., no 
address, asks for a sunbonnet pattern. 
Such a pattern. No. 3797, comes in three 
sizes, small, medium and large, and can 
be furnished from this office for 10 cents. 
The Heei.-Savtng Head. —Who has 
not suffered from an inattentive mem- I 
ory! You are busy in kitchen or dining 
room with innumerable trifles claiming 
attention. You lay the various things 
to go to the store room together in one 
place; the eye helps you to transport 
them all at one journey. But there were 
three or four things to be brought back. 
You glance about the shelves—not one 
errand can you remember. Back to the 
kitchen you must go till the need of 
them recalls the list Of late I have 
found my tongue coming to my assist¬ 
ance. There are several things to be 
done in the dining room, say, I go there 
whispering over, “heat, jardiniere, nap¬ 
kins, sugar,” and lose not a moment in 
hesitation as I turn on the heat, move 
the jardiniere of ferns from the window 
to the center of the table, lay fresh nap¬ 
kins, and take the sugar bowl away to 
be refilled. Continuity of speech seems 
stronger than that of thought. I do not 
know if this is a habit that can be cul¬ 
tivated, or if all would run the risk of i 
seeming queer by going about rehears- ; 
ing their duties even in a whisper. 
PRUDENCE PRIMROSE. 
In comparing Grain-O and coffee 
remember that while the taste is 
the same Grain-O gives health and 
strength while coffee shatters the 
nervous system and breeds disease 
of the digestive organs. Thinking 
people prefer Grain-O and its ben¬ 
efits. 
TRY IT TO-DAY. 
At grocers everywhere ; 15c. and 2.5c. per package. 
Relieve Core 
Asthma, Coughs, 
Bronchitis, Sore Throat, 
Catarrh. Hoarseness. 
Nothing excels this simple remedy. 
CACTUS DAHLIAS 
800 varieties. Hardy Phlox, 100 varieties. Hardy 
Pompon Chrysanthemnms, 60 varieties. 
Send for Catalogues. 
NORTH SHORE FERNERIES, Bevcrly,Ma88. 
William Allen White 
Will write a .series of articles on the political situa¬ 
tion at Washington as he sees it from week to week. 
Exclusively in 
THE SETUIipAY 
EVENING POST 
There arc perhaps three or four men in the length and 
breadth of the country who can write on political topics 
as sanely, shrewdly and clearly as Mr. White; but not 
one of them po.ssesses in like degree his fine native 
humor or his ability to wring the last drop of human interest out of his subject 
and‘into his writing. Mr. Wdiite has also the rare gift for stripping a complex 
theme of its non-essentials and showing it forth in its simplest terms. * 
How the Cabinet Does Business 
By Charles Emory 5mith 
P'ormer Postmaster-fieneral. A very general ignorance of the 
inner workings of the Cabinet room prevails, and yet the Cabinet 
is the least formal; the most act'vc, of the arms of the Ciovern- 
ment. Mr. .Smith will illustrate with anecdotes of actual occur¬ 
rence how the assembly handles grave questions. 
A Congressman’s Wife 
A regular letter from one of the brightest women in Washington, giving us all the 
social gossij) of the Cajiital, telling ns the goorl things said at the social functions), 
bright, sparkling, full of life —the social life of Wkishington. 
©3^ The Saturday Evening Post will 
be sent to any address every week 
from now to July 1st, 1903, on trial, 
on receipt of only 50 cents. 
It is the handsomest weekly magazine you ever saw 
The Curtis Publishing Company, Philadelphia, Pa. 
