206 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER 
MARCH 29 
A SUMMER OUTING IN THE NORTH 
CAROLINA MOUNTAINS. 
IX. 
Photographing a mountaineer family; 
mountain cabins; original names. 
MARY WAGER-FISHER. 
One day I went with the laddie and his 
“ tripod”—for we now and then indulged 
in amateur photography—to take a photo¬ 
graph of a typical mountain cabin. We had 
previously captured in the town a group 
of mountaineers who seemed pleased to be 
photographed after having been assured 
that it would cost nothing. Three of 
them were women, all of whom used tobac¬ 
co in one form or another, and I persuaded 
a man to stand up with them. He seemed 
to have some idea that he ought to look as 
well as possible and took off his hat; one of 
the women asked another to give her some 
“terbacker,” evidently to steady hernerves 
for the occasion, but none of them mani¬ 
fested the slightest desire to improve their 
appearance, and I had no wish that they 
should. One of these women lived in the 
cabin we set out to photograph, and when, 
after following a trail which led for half a 
mile from the highway, we came upon it, 
and she saw us coming, she came out, gave 
us a very cordiai greeting, and invited us 
into the house. When we told her that we 
had come to take a picture of the house, 
she expressed her pleasure and evidently 
tried to entertain us to the best of her abil¬ 
ity. I sat down in the chair offered me; 
there seemed to be but three, all told, and 
the population in the room required a dozen 
at least. A fine wood fire was blazing in 
the chimney and our hostess, who gave her 
name as “Geecreasy Lithy W—’’(she 
couldn’t spell it, and “Geecreasy” was 
probably a corruption of Lucretia) said 
that she did all the cooking over the fire¬ 
place, and that she did not like a stove. 
There were no andirons or crane. There 
were no windows ; a door in each side let in 
light, but I saw at a glance that it was in¬ 
sufficient for us to photograph the interior. 
There was a bed in each of two corners— 
hard, dirty-looking bunks—and a shelf 
against the wall between the beds held some 
folded bedding. Evidently the feather bed 
which most mountaineers have, was here 
lacking. A narrow stair-way led from one 
corner to a loft where Geecreasy said she 
had a loom, and she showed me a petticoat 
which she had made from the raw material 
of cotton and wool—quite a pretty one, the 
materials having been colored red and 
black, and woven in checks. She sewed 
very well. She said that one of her daugh¬ 
ters had died and she had her children to 
care tor, which explained the presence of 
several youngsters. They were each clad 
in a single cotton garment, which, like 
their mostly uncovered bodies, were filthy 
from dirt of long accumulation. They 
looked fairly healthy, however, much as they 
must at times have suffered for wholesome 
food and sufficient clothing. The summer 
climate is not a hot one, the maximum 
temperature for August 1889, being 76 6 10 
Fahrenheit, the hottest day of the summer 
being 82 8-40 degrees, the highest recorded 
temperature at any time 85 degrees. Be¬ 
tween the open fire, the sun, and “ being 
used to it,” the children probably thought 
that they were warm enough. One of the 
little creatures tried at intervals to sing, 
and she had a very sweet voice. I asked 
her grandmother where she had heard sing¬ 
ing, and she said that the preacher when 
he came sang and prayed, and the little 
girl had learned to pray too. The whole fam¬ 
ily seemed very proud of their church which 
was near-by; it had cost $110, and was 
Presbyterian. Most of them drank and 
swore, nevertheless. 
Every moment after our arrival the pop¬ 
ulation increased, presumably from the 
cabins round about, in which were quar¬ 
tered the collateral branches of the family 
which had married and settled here—some 
40 or 50 in all. I wrote down the names of 
some of the children of all ages up to 20 
(none could spell their names) Zigcurtis; 
Rachel Geecreasy; Mary Texana; Jims 
Thomas; Dora Matilda; Ida Rathelder; 
Becky ; Bashy ; Belzoro ; Perella Caroli¬ 
na ; Marget Dakorah; and Mindy. A 
daughter-in-law was nursing a boy baby 
which was not yet named, and as she said 
she did not know what to call it, I suggest¬ 
ed Benjamin ,Harrison, and as the family 
were Republicans (the district in which 
Highlands is located, had recently elected 
a Republican as its member of Congress), 
she seemed pleased with the suggestion, 
one of the boys being already named George 
Washington. 
The laddie stood by my chair while I 
talked, evidently amazed at what he saw, 
for he had never before seen “ how the 
other half of the world lives,” although 
wincing internally when some of the dirt- 
scaled “ kids ” came too near him. There 
was a dog or two in the room, and I knew 
from various creeping sensations that we 
would carry away souvenirs in the form 
of fleas. The room was not disorderly, for 
there was nothing in it to be disordered, 
except the inhabitants, and they followed 
us out as far as the porch, where w'e pro¬ 
ceeded to adjust the camera. The father 
of one branch of the family, (a very good- 
looking, white-haired man) told me that 
he had built the house,—it was of hewn 
logs — and when the chimney was built 
(stones laid in clay) it was “ plumb close 
agin’ the house,” but at the time of the 
Charleston earthquake, it was separated 
from it a distance of about two or three 
inches. He told me that they had two 
cows, and that a few years before he had 
sold some land for $1,000. Chickens and 
pigs played about the door, and on the porch 
which extended the length of the cabin— 
perhaps 15 feet—was chained a dog, while 
from 15 to 20 members of the family sat 
down or stood up, quite filling the porch 
with a very squalid and yet picturesque 
group. The grandmother and one of the 
grandfathers lighted their pipes; the 
daughter-in-law nursed her baby, and as a 
final touch to the picture, other members 
of the family came in with an ox-team and 
load of wood, and stopped near the chim¬ 
ney : and so we took “two views” of the 
whole curious scene, with tall hemlocks as 
a background. The human beings all sat 
as still as statues, and not one of them 
came near the camera to ask questions 
about it. Their curiosity was utterly stolid, 
if they had any whatever. The half dozen 
adult men about the cabin had no apparent 
occupation—the whole lot seemed to be as 
devoid of impulse, curiosity, vivacity, in¬ 
terest and gayety as so many vegetables, of 
which their “garden” was painfully 
empty. Only one of the men looked bad, 
and he, a stout, robust fellow, would I 
imagine, shoot a “revenue” without 
hesitation, if the circumstances suited him. 
For Coughs, Sore Throat, Asthma, 
Catarrh, and diseases of the Bronchial 
Tubes, no better remedy can be found 
than “Brown’s Bronchial Troches.” 
Sold everywhere, 25 cents.— Adv. 
iiuOman’s Work. 
CONDUCTED BY EMILY LOUISE TAPLIN. 
CHAT BY THE WAY. 
“Does each day upon its wing 
Its appointed burden bring 1 
Load, it not besides with sorrow 
That belongeth to to-morrow. 
When by God the heart is riven 
Strength ispromised, strength, 
• is given: 
But for e-date the day of woe 
A nd alone thou bear’st the blow.” 
■* 
* ■* 
W E never see a woman curling her 
hair with hot irons without wish¬ 
ing to put a stop to the practice, which is 
certainly a very injurious one. The hot 
irons sear the hair, making it dry and brit¬ 
tle, and, if some good authorities are to be 
believed, it often causes premature whiten¬ 
ing into the bargain. If the hair must be 
curled artificially, use papers in preference 
to anything else. They at least will prove 
harmless—unless the wearer comes down¬ 
stairs in the morning wearing this slattern¬ 
ly coiffure. According to our ideas, wear¬ 
ing curl-papers around the house is fully as 
reprehensible as to come to breakfast 
attired in one’s night-gown. 
* 
* * 
The Ladies’ Home Journal has a few sen¬ 
sible words to say about the “ wrapper 
habit.” There is no doubt that a constant 
indulgence in wrappers does tend to make 
a woman untidy. When she begins to like 
a wrapper because she can throw it on in a 
hurry she is likely to be careless in all the 
details of her toilet, and with that careless¬ 
ness she is pretty sure to become a slattern. 
Wrappers are certainly useful, but we 
never believe in them as the only house- 
dress for a woman who does all her own 
work, as a wrapper so soon begins to look 
draggled if worn when about rough work, 
and a shabby wrapper is certainly the most 
forlorn garment one can wear. Let the 
house dress be as simple as possible, but 
always trim and neat. 
„ * 
* + 
Mending does not seem nearly so for¬ 
midable when all necessary appliances are 
at baud. But to pick up a well-filled mend¬ 
ing basket, to find one is short of needles, 
or that there is a deficiency of the right 
color in darning-cotton, makes the work 
anything but delightful. The best rule, 
when buying stockings or undergarments, 
is to make a point of purchasing, at the 
same time, cotton to match. A majority 
of us now wear black hosiery entirely, and 
naturally, black darning cotton will be 
kept on hand ; but where the stockings are 
not all solid colors, different tints of 
cotton will be needed to make a neat patch. 
Personally, we have always had a fondness 
for stocking mending; it seems as desirable 
in its way as embroidery, but every one 
does not so regard this prosaic employ¬ 
ment. But to a great many women the 
ability to darn quickly and well will be 
more serviceable than some trifling but or¬ 
namental accomplishment. 
■* 
* * 
Looking at some “ cluttered-up ” house¬ 
holds we are reminded of the philanthropic 
Mrs. Jellyby’s family, who, if they had 
possessed the entire space of St. Paul’s for 
a habitation, would only have found it to 
be so much more room to be untidy in. 
People who are untidy in a small house are 
likely to be still more untidy in a big one. 
Few of us can always achieve that com¬ 
fortable doctrine of a place for everything 
and everything in its place. The first part 
of the saying is about as far as a good 
many of us get. But there is no question 
of its being the only rule for comfortable 
housekeeping. Take a small sitting-room, 
distribute about it two or three newspa¬ 
pers, a box of toys, a work-basket, a few un¬ 
mended stockings, and perhaps a hat or 
coat, and what a miserably untidy place it 
looks. Nor is it right for the house-mother 
to go about picking up after the careless 
ones. Let each member of the household 
learn that things must always be bestowed 
in their proper places, without trusting to 
the one tireless worker to straighten things 
up. The boys who always expect mother 
to do their tidying up grow into the men 
who must be waited on so constantly by 
their wives. 
•ft 
* * 
NoR.is it only the boys who need a lec¬ 
ture in this respect. How many girls we 
know who slam down their hats and jack¬ 
ets on removing them, without a thought 
of laying them away. How often the best 
frock is carelessly put aside, instead of be¬ 
ing shaken out and put in the closet or 
press. And then they wonder that their 
clothes so soon look shabby. A well-cared- 
for garment will outlast two that are just 
slammed around, and next to getting good 
clothes comes taking care of them. It costs 
no more to be neat than the reverse and 
saves a good deal of friction. 
Creamerymen. —If you have never used 
Thatcher’s Orange Butter Color be sure 
and try it at once. Every package warrant¬ 
ed to give satisfaction. It is the most 
natural June tint and the strongest Color 
made.— Adv. 
GOLDEN GRAINS. 
I T is the moment that our resolution 
seems about to become irrevocable— 
when the fatal iron gates are about to close 
upon us—that tests our strength. 
Those men of the world who go through 
it in armor, defend themselves from quite 
as much good as evil. 
The way to wealth is as plain as the way 
to market; it depends chiefly on two words 
—industry and frugality..... 
I THINK that there is success in all honest 
endeavor, and that there is some victory 
gained in every gallant struggle that is 
made. 
I THINK there will be some laughing in 
heaven. I think men will laugh when they 
look back and see how many things they 
thought were troubles, were not troubles.. 
It is right to begin with the obligations 
of home—no other duties can possibly be 
substituted for them. 
Take care to bo an economist in prosperity. 
There is no lour of your bolus one in adversity. 
PENNSYLVANIA NOTES. 
The Conemaugh flood; natural gas for 
fuel. 
N EAR us is the Conemaugh River made 
memorable by the Johnstown flood. 
The papers at the time gave a vivid des¬ 
cription of the disaster. The extent of this 
was about the only thing that was not ex¬ 
aggerated, as half could not be told. It 
was actually worse than the papers pic¬ 
tured it. There never was a more exciting 
time along the river than during the week 
following the flood. Almost every town 
in Western Pennsylvania had some friend 
or relative in the doomed city. Just think 
of 4,000 persons hurled into eternity by the 
maddened, raging waters. The river was 
full of wreckage: every thing imaginable. 
Several bodies were found near here. Two 
weeks after, a dear little baby boy was found 
by accident in a field among some briars, 
and hundreds of other bodies are covered 
up among the sand and rubbish along the 
shores. I live about eight miles from 
Grapeville and Murrayville, the great na¬ 
tural gas-producing district of Western 
Pennsylvania, or I might say of the world. 
About 900 feet from our house a natural 
gas-pipe line passes to several towns beyond 
us. It is tapped and a three quarter inch 
pipe conducts the gas to a regulator locat¬ 
ed about 15 feet from the house. The reg¬ 
ulator regulates the pressure from high 
pressure on the main line down to low pres¬ 
sure—four ounces—which is the pressure at 
which it is about safe to consume the gas 
in the house. From the regulator a two- 
inch pipe conducts the gas into the cellar. 
This tapers off to a one inch pipe, from 
which a half-ince pipe branches off to each 
fire and one-quarter inch pipe to each jet 
or light. We have all the gas we can use 
through the building (eight rooms) for 
light and fuel and aLo in the cellar,spring- 
house and bake-oven. There is no carrying 
in of coal or carrying out of ashes, no pok¬ 
ing of fires, no dust, or kindling of fires, or 
getting up some morning to find the fires 
out and shiver with the cold. The gas is 
safe and easily attended to and is a saving 
of labor and one of the greatest conveni¬ 
ences of modern times. 1 wish all the Ru¬ 
ral readers enjoyed the same privileges ; 
for our lot as farmers as a general thing is 
a hard one—long hours and poor pay for 
the amount of money invested. w. s. 
A HINT FOR CARPET BUYERS. 
W HEN I bought my last carpet, I had 
before me the prospect of moving 
quite frequently, and it occurred to me that 
it would be a good idea to buy one large 
enough for a moderate sized room, nearly 
square, and then get a border to go all 
around it. The scheme works finely. It 
is more troublesome to take up and put 
down such a carpet, because to sew the 
border fast to the carpet would be to lose 
all the advantages ; but I find that 1 can 
make it fit almost any room perfectly. If 
the room is longer than the body of the car¬ 
pet, I can extend the covering by the bor¬ 
der at one end, or at both, if necessary. If 
it is larger all around, the bordering will 
extend the cover all around, either a few 
inches, more or less, or its entire width. If 
the room is small the border can be laid 
over the edge of the carpet, all around, or 
it may be laid aside entirely, for a change. 
The border becomes an advantage also 
where the Buffalo Moth is abundant, as it 
may be cheaper than the carpet, or of a 
material not so congenial to the pests, and 
is at the edge where the insects work most. 
Of course oue doesn’t fancy a border of 
cheaper material thau the carpet, but it is 
better thau to be obliged to leave the floor 
entirely carpetless, as some have been 
driveu to do on account of the ravages of 
these destructive pests. penny-wise. 
liuLOGNA SAUSAGES. 
O. I>. B., Nashville, lnd. —Can anybody 
give a good lecipe for making bolognas ? 
£UijscclUmcou;& 
When Baby was sick, we gave her Castorla, 
W hen she was a Child, she cried for Castorla. 
When she became Miss, she clung to Cast oris 
When she had Children, she gave them Castonu 
