f 
Who has not seen a heedless person 
looking over a dish of fruit to select 
from it something to eat. press his thumb 
into every one to see whether it is mel¬ 
low ? Every such pressure leaves a bad 
spot in the fruit which damages it for 
future use. 
* 
A woman, while riding the bicycle, 
was killed in collision with another rider, 
recently. Investigation shows that she 
wason the wrongsideof the street,not ob¬ 
serving the rules of the road. It seems to 
beacharacteristicof women untrained by 
business, to ignore those ax-bitrary rules 
of life which make it possible for things to 
go smoothly among conflicting interests. 
It may be ignorance, in many cases, 
which causes women to make the mis¬ 
takes they do ; but it is the kind of igno¬ 
rance which brings bliss to no one, and 
usually is responsible for a great deal 
of discomfort, not to say danger. 
* 
Sir Wai.teu Besant has written a 
serious letter to the London press asking 
women not to continue invading the em¬ 
ployments of men. If a woman went 
out to work to please a whim of her own, 
she might, perhaps, stop working to 
please the whim of some one else. But 
it is necessity which knows no law, and 
shows no favoritism, which sends women 
to work, and it would be a hard fate, 
indeed, that would deny them what 
small freedom they have in choosing 
their work. _ 
A SUNDAY WOMAN. 
RS. ANDREWS had gone to stay 
with a sicK neighbor till the doc¬ 
tor came. After he had seen the patient, 
and had left directions and medicine, 
she followed him to the outer door and 
asked him anxiously, what was the 
matter with Mrs. Gay. 
“She is tired out with hard work,” 
answered the doctor. “ And you will be 
in the same fix yourself,” he added, giv¬ 
ing her a searching glance, “ if you 
work so hard and don’t take any rest.” 
Mrs. Andrews stayed with her neigh¬ 
bor all the afternoon, till Mrs. Gay’s 
cousin, who had been hastily sent for, 
came to take care of her. As she walked 
along the country road to her own home, 
Mrs. Andrews’s mind was full of anxiety 
and apprehension. The doctor’s words, 
“You will be in the same fix yourself, 
if you work so hard, and don’t take any 
rest”, kept ringing in her ears. How 
could she take any rest? How could 
she work less hard ? And if she should 
be sick, who could come and take care 
of her ? She had no relatives who were 
at liberty, and hired help was so expen¬ 
sive. What should she do ? There was 
a dreadful sinking of her heart and a 
terror of the future, which was almost 
enough in itself to make her sick. She 
got suppei mechanically, and the con¬ 
versation at the table hardly reached 
her ears. 
The family consisted of herself and 
husband and their three grown-up sons. 
The sons were good-looking young fel¬ 
lows, strong and brown. Mr. Andi*ews 
was a healthy, hearty man, a strong 
contrast to his pale, delicate-looking 
wife. He was what is sometimes sneer- 
ingly called a “ Sunday man”. He and 
his family always attended church, and 
he did no business of any kind on Sun¬ 
day. If people wanted to see his live 
stock, or talk over any farm matters 
with him, they must come some week 
day, he would not see them Sunday. 
Some of his neighbors ridiculed him, 
but those whose opinion was worth hav¬ 
ing, respected him for the stand he had 
taken. 
After the supper work was done, Mrs. 
Andrews went to her room. She sat in 
the dark and tried to think what she 
could do to avert the calamity which 
seemed to be coming upon her. She 
knew that something must be done. She 
realized, from her own feelings, and 
the dreadful weariness which had been 
upon her of late, that what the doctor 
had said was only too true. “ I must 
not get sick,” she kept repeating to her¬ 
self. “ But what can I do to keep well?” 
Suddenly there came to her troubled 
mind these words : “ Six days shalt thou 
labor and do all thy work.” Ah! That 
was what she must do, what she had 
never done before, rest on Sunday. She 
thought of the way she usually spent 
Sunday. The family rose late, and she 
had to hurry to get the dishes done and 
the house in order. Then she had to 
hurry and dress for church. She never 
stopped after church to speak to friends, 
but came directly home, put on another 
dress, and cooked the dinner. After 
the dinner dishes were washed, there 
was, usually, an hour or two when she 
sat in the sitting room and read as long 
as she could keep awake. Then she had 
to get supper, do more dishes, strain the 
milk, and put the Monday's washing to 
soak. She sighed as she reviewed her 
Sunday’s work. “ No wonder I am tired 
out,” she said to herself. “ Yes, that is 
what I must do, it is all I can do—rest 
on Sunday.” 
All that week, Mrs. Andrews was 
planning for her Sunday. Saturday 
night came, and, as Mr. Andrews and 
the boys sat around the lamp reading, 
she came in and stood watching them. 
At length she spoke, and they looked 
up. 
“Father,” she said, “the neighbors 
call you a Sunday man. It is a principle 
with you not to do any unnecessary 
work on that day. You have lived up 
to your principles, and I have heard you 
say, more than once, that you are better 
off in every way for resting one day in 
the week. I am sorry to say that I have 
not taken the same stand that you have, 
and, as a consequence, I have, at last, 
become tired and worn out, like Mrs. 
Gay, only not quite so bad. Now I am 
going to turn over a new leaf, and be¬ 
come a Sunday woman, and not do any 
unnecessary work on the day of rest.” 
Four very astonished faces looked at 
her as she finished this little speech. 
Her listeners had no idea ot the courage 
it took to make it. 
“What!” exclaimed Mr. Andrews. 
Aren’t you going to get the meals as 
usual ? I should think that was neces¬ 
sary.” 
“ I am going to get a good breakfast, 
and I will make the house tidy, but that 
is all the work I shall do.” 
There were exclamations of dismay, 
but she broke in upon them. “ You 
won’t starve,” she said, smiling a little. 
“ I’ve no idea of making you fast all 
day. I have made a quantity of sand¬ 
wiches, there are pies and a sponge 
cake, and a great platter of baked 
apples. Then, if that is not enough, 
why, there is always plenty of milk and 
bread and butter. You all know where 
the pantry is, and when you are hungry, 
you can go there. Or, if it be pleasant, 
we can put the things in a basket, and 
go out in the woods to eat. But I am 
not going to cook a hot dinner, or get 
supper, either.” 
Mrs. Andrews was usually such a n-O s 
little body, that when she made th s 
last very decided statement, Mr. 
drews and the boys were rather scared, 
and subsided into silence. All the rest 
of the summer and fall, Mrs. Andrews 
persisted in her revolutionary conduct. 
She enjoyed her ride to and from church. 
She stayed after the service and talked 
with her friends. She picnicked with 
the rest of the family in the woods or in 
the kitchen, according to the weather. 
Sunday afternoon she took a long nap, 
and spent some time reading. When it 
was fair, she went long walks with her 
husband and the boys, through shady 
lanes and cart paths. She began to feel 
less tired, and having once asserted her¬ 
self, it came easier the second time. So 
she began to call on the boys to do little 
things to help her,and they began to real¬ 
ize that she was overworked, and grew 
more thoughtful of her. Neither they 
nor Mr. Andrews grew thin and feeble 
for the lack of a hot Sunday dinner and 
supper. The washing, being put to soak 
early Monday morning, came out as 
white as ever. And Mr. Andrews found 
that it did not hurt him to strain the 
milk and wash the pail, one night in the 
week. 
After four months of the new order of 
things, Mrs. Andrews asked her husband 
one day if he wanted her to go back to 
the old kind of Sunday. 
“ No,” he answered, emphatically, and 
he added, “I wish I hadn’t been such a 
fool, Elizabeth ; but I am glad that you 
had the sense to become a Sunday 
woman.” susan b. bobbins. 
DOES EDUCATION PAY? 
HE summer vacation has brought 
thoughts of the many graduates 
who have finished school life and com¬ 
menced manhood and womanhood. In 
these days of higher education, there 
seems no stopping place to an education ; 
yet, to the farmer—girl or boy—with 
limited purse, there must be a dropping 
of learning in schools, and a beginning 
to the practicing of knowledge. Shall 
our children have a college course, or be 
satisfied with the high schools and acad¬ 
emies ? A practical farmer said, “ I do 
not care so much that I could not take 
a college course, but I do wish that I 
could have had a season in a business 
school. Now, at 35, I have only just 
learned the business ways I ought to 
have known 10 years ago.” 
While talking with a young boy who 
is ready to enter the academic depart¬ 
ment, he made this remark, “ I know 
enough now to work ; I don’t see any 
need of Latin, science, and such stuff ! ” 
He seemed to have no idea that the brain 
needed cultivation, and to be taught to 
think and plan, just as well as the rest 
of the body to be trained. When in 
school, years ago, we thought it almost 
silly for our teacher to say to us in the 
civil government class, “ Young ladies, 
you must study well, so that you can 
understand, some future day, when your 
husbands read the newspaper to you, 
and talk politics.” But we feel the 
truth of the saying when the gude mon 
sits down and chats with us on the politi¬ 
cal outlook, or the currency question, or 
some other national or State matter. 
As one grows older, the need of just as 
thorough a preparation for life’s work 
as can be obtained, is more plainly seen. 
Our sons and daughters are soon to 
occupy our places, the parent now in the 
prime of life will, before long, be the 
“ old folks,” and we know by experience, 
how pleasant it is to have traveled the 
same paths. That father or mother who 
has studied in youth what the children 
are now learning, has a close bond of 
sympathy with those children, and a 
hold upon their companionship which is 
very strong. Then, too, such parents do 
not get set upon the “ back shelf,” but 
keep young with the young. 
True education does not make one con¬ 
ceited, or feel beyond his station. I 
know several young women who were 
graduated from the academy not long 
ago ; one is a talented musician, both 
sings and plays often in public, but she 
is the mainstay of the house, and takes 
much care from her delicate mother, 
yet finding time for society. Another is 
a success, either in the school-room, 
kitchen, or parlor. Still another lives 
on a farm, keeps the house, and is a duti¬ 
ful daughter to a paralytic mother. The 
education received, has made them bet¬ 
ter women than they could possibly have 
been without it. 
Those farmers, to-day, who are the 
pride of our State, are especially noted 
for their intelligence which has been 
cultivated by education. Years ago, the 
expression, “ only a farmer,” meant the 
rough, uncultivated toiler who knew 
nothing of the world beyond his own 
boundaries. To-day, farming is almost 
a profession, and the successful farmer 
must be intelligent, educated, and alert 
to every progress in the busy world, and 
his wife and mate equal to him in every 
respect. molt.ie wiggins. 
CANNING FRUITS ; WASHING FOWLS. 
HAVE put up fruit ever since canning 
came about, have never broken a 
glass can, and have never set one, ready 
to be filled, on a wet cloth ; much as I 
have read about people doing it, I should 
fear to try it. Just before filliDg a can, 
I put in a tablespoonful of the fruit. 
AN ENTHUSIASTIC CLERGYMAN. 
Rev. Thomas Dixon, Jr., Speaks, and His 
Opponents Create a Disturbance- 
Comments of the New York Papers. 
On Sunday morning, September 6, Rev. 
Thomas Dixon, Jr., announced that he 
would preach on “ The Political Crisis,” 
and probably 4,000 people gathered at 
the Academy of Music—the “People’s 
Church”—to hear this brilliant pulpit 
orator, who is not afraid to think for 
himself and tell his thoughts to the 
public. During the sermon he was 
again and again interrupted, but as the 
New York Herald of the following day 
says, “ The hisses that broke in on the 
preacher’s vigorous sentences were 
drowned by cheers and applause.” The 
unusually clear and penetrating voice of 
Mr. Dixon stood him in good stead in this 
clamor. In this connection the follow¬ 
ing letter, written only a week before, 
seems particularly to the point: 
New York, August 26, 1896. 
Dear Sir—l am very loath as a minister to give 
an indorsement to a patented article, but I feel it 
but just to you to say that I have used your 
Hyomei for Bronchitis with perfect success. I 
had a chronic cold last winter which stubbornly 
resisted every remedy for seven weeks. Your 
Hyomei gave me relief in one day, and enabled 
me to fill all my subsequent lecture dates with 
satisfaction. Truly yours, 
(Rev.) Thomas Dixon, Jr., 
Pastor People’s Church 
“ Hyomei, 
the new and wonderful Australian “Dry- 
Air” treatment of all the diseases of the 
respiratory organs, * ‘cures by inhalation,” 
Bronchitis, 
Asthma, 
Catarrh, 
and all similar complaints. 
PRICE, $1.00. 
For sale at all druggists, by mail, or 
at home office. Send for free pamphlet. 
R. T. BOOTH, 23 East 20th St., New York. 
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