FROM DAY TO DAY. 
Tue idea of teaching our children to 
find more satisfaction in their homes, is 
a very good one. It recalls the little 
boy who was asked what sort of home 
he liked ; his response was : “ The sort 
of home it’s nice to go to.” If our domes¬ 
tic arrangements encourage that result, 
we shall not be obliged to worry over 
the problem of keeping the boys and 
girls at home. This does not necessarily 
mean an undisciplined home ; that is, 
usually, quite as uncomfortable for the 
children as for the parents. But a 
cooperative home, where the children 
feel that they, too, have rights and 
duties in securing the mutual happiness 
of the entire household, is “the sort of 
home .it’s nice to go to.” 
* 
In giving a girl advice on the subject 
of letter-writing, she is usually told the 
correct thing in paper and envelopes, 
the proper way to fold, seal and address 
her letter, and the most fashionable 
style of handwriting. She is told how 
to begin her letter, how to end it, and 
how to sign it, but she rarely receives 
advice about the letters she ought never 
to write. One day recently we heard 
two girls discussing their “ correspond¬ 
ence” during luncheon at a downtown 
restaurant. They were pleasant, mod¬ 
est-looking girls, apparently clerks or 
stenographers. Said one, “ I got such a 
fright Saturday. Papa was home early, 
and when he heard the letter-carrier 
whistle, he started to go down to see 
what there was, but I says, ‘Let me go,’ 
and danced downstairs before he got 
started. I knew I’d get a letter that 
mail, and if papa seen it, he’d want to 
know who it was from.” Her compan¬ 
ion observed, with surprise, “ Why do 
you have your letters sent home ? Mine 
all come to the office, and no one need 
know anything about them.” 
* 
iently familiar with social usages to 
know better, but their affectionately 
indited letters were a source of much 
embarrassment to the recipients. Had 
these young men been as unscrupulous 
as the girls were foolish, it is impossible 
to say where the folly would have 
ended. If a girl must write her thoughts 
and fancies, let her write them in a 
diary. And don’t put too many capital 
I’s, even in the diary ; indiscreet letters 
and gushing diaries both spring from 
youthful egotism more than anything 
else. 
A SWINGING FLOUR BARREL. 
HE family flour barrel is often an 
unsightly object in kitchen or 
pantry, and, if a small closet is con¬ 
structed for it, it is often very unhandy 
for the bread-maker. The barrel shown 
in Figs. 151 and 152 is free from the 
latter objection, and shows an excellent 
arrangement for both neatness and con¬ 
venience. 
The little closet in which the barrel 
is kept occupies one end of the large 
pantry. The top forms a broad shelf or 
table of polished wood, just the right 
height for the bread-board when mixing 
or kneading. The barrel is supported 
on iron clamps which swing on bolts or 
pivots fastened just inside, the upper 
clamp being firmly screwed to the lower 
suits on unplaned boards. Lumber, 
nails and willing hands quickly impro¬ 
vise shelves, to be papered or covered 
with oilcloth, as taste directs. Boxes 
with lids, put on with leather hinges, 
are safe receptacles, excluding inquisi¬ 
tive insects, when nailed to the walls. 
In one of these rude, improvised kitch¬ 
ens I saw a discarded zinc-lined cream¬ 
ery, shaped like a great box, with tight 
cover. The housekeeper had it moved 
into the shed when a new cooler was 
provided for the milk. She said that 
she valued it next to her ice-chest during 
these hot months when her store-room 
space was limited. Besides that she had 
a movable closet close to the stove, with 
all cracks and seams tightly cemented. 
The rough floor was covered with stout 
canvas, which had been painted yellow, 
then spotted with different colors that 
it might not easily show the dust, and 
dried in the shade previous to tacking. 
“None,” said she, “who has not ex¬ 
perimented with a summer kitchen can 
realize the comfort of it—the luxury. 
Even when all those doors and windows 
are closed it is not close like a room. 
And then the work saved ! The satis¬ 
faction of clearing up the rest of the 
house ; and having it stay so while I work 
out here. Of course, I cannot keep this 
immaculate, so no one expects it, and 
I wouldn’t feel confused if company 
linen, tape for binding, pasteboard, 12 
small brass rings, and a piece of thick, 
white cotton cord. The bottom of the 
basket is cut in the shape of a regular 
hexagon, made from a piece of stout 
cardboard neatly covered on both sides 
with the linen. Size must vary accord¬ 
ing to needs, but a hexagon six inches 
across is suitable. The sides require 
six pieces of cardboard ; they are from 
three to four inches deep, and, of course, 
the same width at the bottom as the 
angles of the hexagon, but a trifle wider 
at top, that the basket may flare a little 
when closed up. These side-pieces are 
covered with the linen, and are joined 
with a small triangular gore of linen at 
each of the six seams, so that, when 
joined to the bottom, the sides will lie 
out perfectly flat. The edge is finished 
with tape, stitched on with machine, and 
a little ring is put at the top of each 
seam, on either side of the gore. The 
cord runs through this and, when the 
basket is in use, the cord is drawn up 
and tied, closing the gussets and holding 
the sides in place. Two or three little 
pockets, a needle-case, and small pin 
cushion, all made of the material with 
which the basket is covered, are fast¬ 
ened to the sides. Pale blue or pink 
butcher’s linen, or unbleached holland, 
is very pretty covering material. The 
rings through which the draw-string 
runs are improved by covering with 
crocheted flax thread. We have seen some 
of these baskets made without the addi¬ 
tional gores, and each join tied together 
at the top with a bow of narrow ribbon. 
This, however, is not nearly so con¬ 
venient as the style described; apart 
from the greater ease in tying up, the 
corner gores prevent small articles from 
slipping through, an occurrence very 
likely to happen where the seam is only 
tied at the top. When opened out flat, 
the basket takes no appreciable room in 
a trunk, and its lightness is an additional 
advantage. 
When a girl receives letters that she 
dares not show her parents, it is a sign 
of something wrong. The letters may be 
innocent enough in themselves, but, 
evidently, the secret correspondent has 
no right to send them. All girls pass 
through a letter-writing period, when 
they pen voluminous epistles about 
nothing to their intimates, and talk of 
their extensive range of correspondents ; 
but all this is harmless enough if 
directed into the proper channels by a 
wise mother. It is when a girl enters 
upon an unmeaning correspondence with 
one of the boys she went to school with, 
or with any young man who is merely a 
social acquaintance, that she should be 
promptly warned off. A girl should 
never conduct a regular correspondence 
with any young man who is neither rela¬ 
tive nor fianc6 ; there may be occasions 
when it is necessary to write a note 
about some social or business matter to 
a man of her acquaintance, but there 
should be no continued interchange of 
letters. A good many girls will consider 
this view very narrow and straight- 
laced ; we are so accustomed to a per¬ 
fectly innocent disregard of convention¬ 
ality among our girls. But when we 
think how much unhappiness, misunder¬ 
standing and ill-natured gossip may 
arise from one foolish letter, we can see 
plenty of reasons for a wise reticence in 
letter-writing. 
* 
One would imagine that no girl would 
ever write to a man who did not request 
the favor, and who did not answer more 
than one letter in three, and then but 
briefly. Yet, within our own experience, 
we can cite some such cases. In these 
eases, the girls were, presumably, well 
brought up ; certainly, they were suffic¬ 
THE BARREL SWUNG OUr. Fio. 151. 
side of the shelf, the lower clamp, which 
is much heavier, to the floor. The 
barrel is opened, then placed between 
the clamps, which grip it firmly. With 
a mere touch, it swings out for use, as 
in Fig. 151. When not in use, it is 
pushed back again, as in Fig. 152. There 
is no risk of dust collecting in the little 
closet, because it is so easy to swing the 
barrel out and rub off the polished wood 
floor and hard-finished wall with a soft 
cloth. Any woman who has struggled 
to move an unwieldy flour barrel when 
cleaning the place in which it stands, 
will recognize the convenience of this 
device. The clamps may be obtained 
from large hardware dealers. 
A SUMMER KITCHEN. 
NE of the indispensables for sum¬ 
mer convenience is an extra 
kitchen. Here and there, the country 
through, one is seen in these Northern 
States, built especially for the house¬ 
wife’s comfort, fitted with modern appli¬ 
ances. Few think they can afford these, 
but to nearly every farmhouse is attached 
a woodshed, and happy is its mistress if 
it has no step leading from it to the 
kitchen. In warm weather it is freed of 
wood, and the cook-stove can be moved 
out, the pipe to be run through the par¬ 
tition into the kitchen chimney ; or, 
better, secure a second-hand stove for 
temporary use here, if means permit, as 
moving, unless carefully done, wrenches 
the expensive range, wearing it out 
more than many years of service. Some 
rainy day the men can whitewash the 
board walls of this improvised work¬ 
room, rendering it cheery and whole¬ 
some. A broom will take the place of 
whitewash brush with satisfactory re¬ 
THE BARREL IN PLACE. Fig. 152. 
should surprise me in a clutter. I wish 
all weary women would try it.” l l. t. 
A TRAVELING WORK-BASKET. 
NOVELTY for tourist use is a work- 
basket which can be opened out 
perfectly flat for packing in a trunk. It 
is a pretty little convenience, just the 
thing to hold one’s fancy-work on porch 
or piazza, and may be made by any deft¬ 
fingered woman. 
The materials needed are butcher’s 
Ironing Flannel. —I have noticed 
carefully all that has been said about 
ironing wool goods, and I still think my 
way a good one. Dip a piece of thin 
muslin in water, wring it out, and spread 
it over the goods to be ironed. Pass the 
iron over the muslin, dipping this in the 
water and wringing it out as often as it 
gets dry. Never touch the iron to the 
wool, always keeping the muslin be¬ 
tween. It will impart that gloss we 
notice on new flannel; a hot iron can be 
used with absolutely no danger of burn¬ 
ing. MARY BURWELL. 
m 
H 
Rattlesnakes, Butterflies, 
and ... ? 
Washington Irving said, he supposed a certain hill was called 
“Rattlesnake Hill” because it abounded in — butterflies. The 
“ rule of contrary ” governs other names. Some bottles are, sup¬ 
posedly, labeled “ Sarsaparilla ” because they are full of . . . well, 
we don’t know what they are full of, but we know it’s not sarsapa¬ 
rilla; except, perhaps, enough for a flavor. There’s only one 
make of sarsaparilla that can be relied on to be all it claims. It’s 
Ayer’s. It has no secret to keep. Its formula is open to all 
physicians. This formula was examined by the Medical Com¬ 
mittee at the World’s Fair with the result that while every other 
make of sarsaparilla was excluded from the Fair, Ayer’s Sarsapa¬ 
rilla was admitted and honored by awards. It was admitted be¬ 
cause it was the best sarsaparilla. It received the medal as the 
best. No other sarsaparilla has been so tested or so honored. 
Good motto for the family as well as the F air: Admit the best, 
exclude the rest. 
Any doubt about it? Send for the “ Curebook.’* 
It kills doubts and cures doubters. 
Address: J. C. Ayer Co., Lowell, Mass. 
