486 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER 
.July 14 
From Day to Day. 
I know a place where the sun Is like gold, 
And the cherry-blooms burst with snow. 
And down underneath is the loveliest nook. 
Where the four-leaf clovers grow. 
One leaf is for hope, and one is for faith, 
And one is for love, you know, 
And God put another in for luck— 
If you search, you will find where they 
grow. 
But you must have hope, and you must 
have faith. 
You must love and be strong; and so, 
If you work, if you wait, you will find the 
place 
Where the four-leaf clovers grow. 
—Ella Higginson, in the Evangelist. 
• 
A Kansas critic reminds girl grad¬ 
uates that an essay on the higher life 
need not necessarily interfere with a 
career as a breadmaker. He should re¬ 
member, however, that 'it is not always 
possible for a woman to earn her bread 
and make it. too. 
* 
Among outing hats the shops are 
showing many of stitched white linen 
for women’s wear. They are modeled af¬ 
ter the popular styles, Alpines, Dady- 
smith, Durban, and the fiat golf shapes. 
They are very light and cool, can be 
laundered readily, and are usually trim¬ 
med with folds of foulard silk, prefera¬ 
bly blue. 
* 
■One of our correspondents holds that 
the dread of feminine criticism deters 
many a woman from inviting guests; 
she feels that she must make elaborate 
preparations, or be regarded as lacking 
On housewifely ability. Is this true, or 
do we set up a fear which does not really 
exist? It is true that there are narrow¬ 
minded women, and men, too, who con¬ 
sider only the food set before them 
rather than the spirit in which it is prof¬ 
fered, but we do not think that anyone 
need be deterred by this from the exer¬ 
cise of real hospitality. The older we 
grow, the more we sympathize with the 
point of view of the wise man who gave 
his preference to “a dinner of herbs, 
where love is.” 
* 
There are many famous names carvel 
on the stones in the churchyard of old 
Trinity, New York, and yet the grave 
most frequently asked for by visitors is 
that of an unknown woman. The flat, 
sunken slab over it bears the name of 
Charlotte Temple, the unfortunate hero¬ 
ine of Mrs. Rowson’s book. We think 
that probably modern readers would 
consider Charlotte Temple as mawkish 
and unreal as Children of tne Abbey or 
Thaddeus of Warsaw, so widely does our 
taste differ from that of our mothers and 
grandmothers, but the book attained an 
extraordinary popularity, and is still un¬ 
forgotten. The gardener at the church¬ 
yard says that most of the visitors are 
middle-aged or elderly women; almost 
daily flowers are laid upon the slab, and 
two of these women have decorated the 
grave regularly for at least 16 years. 
There is a depression in .the stone, which 
was, perhaps, originally occupied by a 
plate With an inscription; it now serves 
to hold water for the flowers, and is also 
used by the pert city sparrows as a 
bath. The same feeling which prompts 
kindly hands to place flowers over Char¬ 
lotte Temple’s resting place—if, indeed, 
the unhappy girl was laid there, for 
there is some doubt of it—‘is shown at 
many other neglected graves. Within 
a few paces of Gen. Grant’s stately tomb 
on Riverside Drive is a small time-worn 
monument bearing an inscription which 
commemorates St. Clair Pollock, “an 
amiable child,” whose little earthly life 
ended more than a century ago. Each 
Memorial Day, and on many other days 
throughout the year, a wreath or gar¬ 
land hangs on this lonely tomb. Some¬ 
times there is a bunch of roses—some¬ 
times only a few daisies or other field 
flowers. The identity of the child is un¬ 
known, and no memorials of his kindred 
are near. Long before the great general 
came to his costly resting place, the lit¬ 
tle child slept above the broad river, and 
modern changes have left the little un¬ 
known grave untouched, in quiet con¬ 
trast with the imposing mausoleum. 
* 
This is the picnic season, and when 
the guests are tired of active games 
some of the old-fashioned amusements 
played at evening gatherings will be ac¬ 
ceptable. One of these, old, yet not very 
familiar, is “the Parson’s cat.” The first 
player may begin, “The Parson’s cat is 
an amiable cat.” Without a second’s 
hesitation the next one must substitute 
for “amiable” another word beginning 
with an “a,” such as “angry, anxious, 
artful,” etc. The person who gets to the 
end of the “a’s” and is forced to begin 
upon “b” pays a forfeit, or simply goes 
to the foot. The rapidity wild which 
this must be played adds to the merri¬ 
ment. Among amusing contests for 
young people at a picnic a thread-wind¬ 
ing match for girls usually excites mer¬ 
riment. Balls of thread or darning cot¬ 
ton are unwound for many yards, the 
thread being laid upon the ground, 
wound around trees, and otherwise dis¬ 
posed over obstacles, short of absolute 
knots or breakages, conditions being 
kept as nearly equal as possible. At a 
given signal, each competitor begins to 
wind up her thread, without breaking or 
tangling it, a prize being offered for the 
one who completes her task most quick¬ 
ly. Another amusing competition is a 
peanut race for women or girls, each 
participant carrying as many peanuts as 
can be crowded on the blade of a knife. 
If she drops them (and she invariably 
does), she must pick them all up again 
before going on. 
The House that Jack Built. 
IDEAS SUGGESTED I1Y TWO HOMEMAKERS. 
Armed with an architect’s elevations 
and advice, and their own floor plans, 
Jack and Jill began to build their house. 
Their rented home was in a little sub¬ 
urban village. They bought an acre of 
land on the edge of the village, and en¬ 
tered into negotiations with masons and 
carpenters. As there was a piece of old 
stone wall upon the land, the mason 
suggested that the cheapest, as well as 
one of the best, foundations that could 
be constructea would be of rough rocks 
laid in lime, sand and cement to the sur¬ 
face of the ground, with an underpin¬ 
ning from the ground to the sills of 
rounded cobble stones, laid in cement, 
the rounded faces of these cobble stones 
projecting out a little from the cement. 
This made an exceedingly attractive un¬ 
derpinning, and cost only the labor of 
laying, with the cost of the sand, lime 
and cement for the mortar. The mason 
was a man who understood his business 
thoroughly, and he made a dry cellar by 
laying a tile drain just outside, and com¬ 
pletely around, the base of the cellar 
wall. The two ends of the dram, meet¬ 
ing, were carried away to a natural out¬ 
let at a little distance off. The cellar 
drain, opening into the cellar through 
the wall, emptied into this tile drain. 
The mason also had a good idea for a 
cheap, but effective, way to make the 
cellar frostproof. The underpinning, 
from the sills down to a point below the 
level of the ground, was backed by 
lathing and plastering, a dead-air space 
being thus left between the stone and 
the plastering. This also made the in¬ 
terior of the cellar light and more at¬ 
tractive than it would otherwise have 
been. The cellar windows were also 
made very large, so that an abundance 
of light would come in. The cellar win¬ 
dow frames were made some eight or 
10 inches in thickness, so that in Winter 
an outside window, of the exact size of 
the inner window, could be fitted in to 
the outside of the frame. 
Jill planned the dining-room, kitchen 
and pantry according to her own ideas, 
and some very good ones, indeed, were 
built into these rooms. She had the 
china closet located between tne dining¬ 
room and the kitchen, with a door on 
each side of it, so that the dishes could 
be put into the closet from the kitchen, 
and taken out on the dining-room side. 
The kitchen sink was placed next to the 
china closet, against the wall separating 
the kitchen and dining-room, where no 
pipe would freeze, and but a half-dozen 
steps from the dining table and the 
kitchen range. Then there was a dumb 
waiter that glided up and down from the 
pantry to the cellar, making visits to 
the latter region very rarely necessary. 
The flour barrel was “boxed in” just at 
the right of the big pantry Window. 
The top of its cabinet, when turned over 
came just before the window, and in this 
position was a kneading board, the 
kneading surface being protected from 
A BRICK MANTEL. Fig. 162. 
all dust when folded into its place again 
over the barrel. The kitchen table was 
a broad “leaf” binged to the side of the 
room, to be let down out of the way 
when not in use, and supported, when 
raised, by two detachable legs, that ex¬ 
tended from under the front edge in ,t 
slanting direction back to the upper edge 
of the baseboard, where iwo sockets 
were provided for them. The kitchen 
range was raised, without legs, upon a 
parallellogram of brickwork, Which ob¬ 
viated that bane of kitchen work— 
sweeping under the stove. 
The one fireplace in the house was an 
inspiration. Jack had bought a thou¬ 
sand “pressed” brick, thinking to build 
the ordinary, conventional fireplace, 
with its surrounding and surmounting— 
and very commonly stiff-looking—hard¬ 
wood mantelpiece. 
“Why not carry that brickwork righ:; 
up and make the mantel out of brick?’’ 
said Jill, one evening suddenly, as they 
were discussing the mantelpiece ques¬ 
tion. 
“You’ve a great head, Jill,” said Jack, 
admiringly. “For less valuable ideas 
men have been knighted.” 
Jack’s friend in the architect’s office 
made the little sketch that is shown at 
Fig. 162, and when the mason had em¬ 
bodied the idea in brick, and a mirror 
had been set in the panel over the pro¬ 
jecting brick mantelpiece, the young 
home-builders surveyed it with no small 
satisfaction. 
“No one would believe,” declared Jack 
enthusiastically, “that such an artistic 
and rich-looking affair could be built so 
easily and cheaply out of bricks! It has 
hardly cost as much for the whole thing 
as a very common-looking wood mantel 
alone would have cost. It’s a beauty!” 
“And those old-fashioned, big brass 
andirons that Grandmother gave Mother 
when she was married, and that Mother 
has promised me,” said Jill, “will look 
just lovely in that fireplace!” 
The hall was made square, with two 
turns in the stairway, giving an excel¬ 
lent chance in the angle thus formed for 
a hall seat of oak, the top of which 
lifted and disclosed a place for rubbers, 
overshoes and other articles, while un¬ 
der the highest part of the stairway was 
space for a closet, with a portiere in 
front, where coats, sacques and hats 
could be hung. The hall made a cosy 
Summer sitting room, opening as it did 
upon a cool veranda. The house was a 
story and a half in height, so that the 
roof “cut in” to some of the chambers, 
but this was met by partitioning off the 
lowest portion of the space under the 
roof for closets, with openings closed by 
curtains. Where the main house and 
the ell joined, the two roofs cut into 
one corner of a room, and this was util¬ 
ized for a closet in the same way, the 
sloping rafters above the closet being 
given a curve by cutting out their under 
edge in this case, as in the case of the 
other closet's constructed under the roof. 
Over the veranda was a space that was 
utilized for a storeroom for trunks and 
other articles. 
“There isn’t a foot of space wasted in 
the whole house,” said Jill triumphantly, 
as she inspected with pride the uses to 
which all nooks and corners had been 
put. 
“Jack,” said Jill, when the house was 
finally ready for the “moving-in day.” 
“Could you write a book on ‘What i 
Know About nouse-Building?’ ” 
“Yes,” replied tired Jack. “I think I 
could. I would start out in the first 
chapter with the proposition that the 
house was never built that did not cost 
more than it was expected to cost; that 
the house dees not exist that couldn’t 
have been improved if the builders were 
‘building it over again,’ and that any de¬ 
parture from plain walls and roofs very 
greatly increases the cost of a house. 
Then I would glide along into the sec¬ 
ond chapter and show that the very 
easiest possible way, and probably the 
very cheapest way, to build a house is 
to find out exactly what you want be¬ 
forehand, so that no changes need be 
made as the work goes on, and then 
make a contract with a reliable, a con¬ 
scientious 'builder, and let the whole 
work of construction out to him. Es¬ 
pecially good terms can sometimes be 
made with such a builder at a season of 
the year when work is dull with him. If 
one build a house by day’s work, and 
puts a foreman in charge of the work, 
he must spend nearly all his time in 
looking after matters himself, because 
every point that arises in the construc¬ 
tion is referred straight back to him, and 
every time a nail, a piece of lead or zinc, 
and a thousand and one other articles, 
are needed, he must rush away to get it, 
or have the work delayed expensively 
while the foreman goes himself. In 
fact,” said Jack with a confidence born 
of personal experience, “a person will 
have to build one house in order to see 
how to build another most economic¬ 
ally.” 
“That is an expensive way to learn 
how to build a house,” put in Jill, and 
then added, mischievously, “Why not let 
the ‘House That Jack Built’ furnish 
some needed experience for other young 
would-be home builders?” 
“Another of your wise suggestions, 
Jill, dear,” said Jack. a. h. d. 
Vm/n/uvrAts:* 
WAX 
Don’t tie the top of your 
s'Xjb Jelly and preserve jars in 
^ the old fashioned way. Seal 
them by the new, quick, 
a, absolutely sure way—by 
v thin coating of pure, 
refined Paraffine Wax. 
Has no taste or odor. 
Is air tight and acid 
proof. Easily applied. 
Useful in a dozen other 
ways about the house. 
Full directions with 
each pound cake. 
Sold everywhere. 
Made by STANDARD OIL CO- 
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