What a pleasure it is to get a cour¬ 
teous letter, even though it be on a busi¬ 
ness matter and of trivial importance, 
from an entire stranger. It breathes a 
kindly feeling which brightens our 
thoughts for a while. Perhaps there is 
less need to urge more courtesy between 
strangers than to ask that there be more 
kindness between friends. Most of us 
appreciate courtesies and kindnesses 
when they come to us, but are forgetful 
in extending them to others. Not every 
one is blessed with a courteous disposi¬ 
tion, but cultivation will produce re¬ 
sults worth striving for. 
* 
There is need of practical, helpful 
and hopeful writers to brighten the 
domestic departments of our papers. 
Many who attempt that line of writ¬ 
ing, drift into what is called the 
“ preaching ” style, and become monot¬ 
onous. Others escape this fault, and 
go to the other extreme, allowing them¬ 
selves to be carried away by enthusiasm, 
and predicting such great things that 
less hopeful persons reject all of their 
advice, believing the promised results 
impossible. 
* 
“ Why do you not learn typewrit¬ 
ing ? ” said a business man to a woman 
worker. “ You could earn much better 
wages than you now do, and have shorter 
hours.” “ But typewriting is already 
overcrowded,” was the reply, “and many 
get very poor pay.” “ Yes, the profes¬ 
sion is burdened with brainless practi¬ 
tioners ; but these would not compete 
with you. A conscientious worker, with 
sense and business adaptability, need 
not wait for a good position in the most 
crowded line of work. Good workers 
are always at a premium.” This is as 
true of other work, and the boy or girl 
who feels capable of doing good work 
on the farm, and is determined to suc¬ 
ceed, will overcome the obstacles which 
make failures of less careful and ener¬ 
getic farmers. 
* 
It is said that, of all lines of trade 
that have been benefited by the use of 
the bicycle, the “soft drinks ” business 
has reaped the richest profit. Many es¬ 
tablishments have sprung up along fav¬ 
orite roadways, in which nothing but 
temperance drinks are sold. There is 
quite a demand for milk in this quarter, 
and good buttermilk would, probably, 
become more popular than sweet milk, 
particularly in very hot weather. Good 
buttermilk is rarely on sale in the city, 
and poor buttermilk doesn’t appeal to 
the average palate. First-class butter¬ 
milk will find ready customers, for there 
are many country-bred people in the city 
who remember the good things of the 
farm, and are constantly seeking them 
in the city. 
THE FARMER S SOCIAL LIFE. 
THE QUESTIONS. 
What should a farmer’s social life be, and wbat 
are his social duties towards his neighbors? Js 
social visiting among farmers a thing of the past? 
What do you consider your obligations in the 
matter? Is it well to encourage neighborhood 
visiting? Do you really know of any particular 
case where a family has been driven from the 
farm by its isolation and loneliness ? 
N OTHING is exempt from that great 
process of Nature, evolution ; not 
even the social life of the country neigh¬ 
borhood, that state of society where 
things are supposed to be at a stand¬ 
still. Evolution is, usually, a slow pro¬ 
cess, so the change has been so gradual 
that it is only lately that people have 
awakened to the fact that the old order 
of things is passing away, and regret¬ 
fully to wonder whether the spirit of 
hospitality is passing also from the hearts 
and homes of rural communities. 
The present state of social affairs is, 
in a measure, the outcome of extended 
intellectual life, and of all the forces in 
this movement, the greatest has been 
that of the press. It has brought a flood 
of thought that has floated into the life 
of even the most pigheaded and book- 
defying farmer, forcing him to partake, 
by absorption alone, if he would receive 
it in no other way. It has brought a 
flood of ideas that has rippled around 
and touched each member of the family, 
from the infant in the cradle to the 
grandsire beside the hearth. The intel¬ 
ligent, well-read farmer and family who 
keep in touch with the world of ideas 
and the progress of events, are no rarity 
at the present day. With the wealth of 
knowledge thus brought into his life, he 
and his wife have, in a degree, lost their 
taste for the petty gossip and feasting 
that made up the sum of the usual, old- 
time entertainment. 
The steady evolution of machinery, 
too, has nearly relegated to the past, the 
sewing circle, the quilting and husking 
bees, that, of necessity, brought people 
together formerly, and in their stead, 
the farmer attends the Grange, the in¬ 
stitutes, farmers’ clubs, etc. This is a 
long stride forward, but the farmer’s 
social world is yet very far from being 
an ideal one, especially for the young 
folk. Small wonder that they turn their 
eyes towards the city. 
Some Hindrances and Helps. 
The advancement of social life in the 
country is greatly retarded by the mar¬ 
ried farmer, for the reason that, in the 
pursuit of his calling, he comes in con¬ 
tact with people so much more than do 
his wife and children, that he does not 
feel the need of other companionship as 
they do. And he becomes so absorbed 
in his struggle with Mother Earth, and 
his conquest over her, that he very grudg¬ 
ingly gives time to social duties. He 
needs some very sharp raps to rouse him 
to a realization of the social needs of his 
family. And what are his duties ? They 
are a hearty interest, advice and coopera¬ 
tion in the social plans of his household; 
an earnest endeavor to have his home 
the center from which shall radiate good 
will and brotherly love ; to use his in¬ 
fluence for all it is worth to root up and 
cast out the petty jealousies and friction 
that always exist in some neighborhoods; 
to extend his acquaintance beyond his 
immediate vicinity. In short, it behooves 
the farmer to bestir himself from his 
sluggish, selfish indifference, put his 
wits to work, and devise ways and means 
to improve the social condition of all 
around him, the young people particu¬ 
larly ; to make country life so enjoy¬ 
able that the boys and girls will not 
leave the farm, the place that needs the 
boys and girls so much ; the city has 
more than its share of them. 
It depends very much upon the neigh¬ 
borhood, whether visiting needs any 
encouragement; there is as much differ¬ 
ence in the sociability of neighborhoods, 
as there is difference in the sociability 
of families or individuals. The answer 
to the question also depends upon the 
time and inclinations of the farmer’s 
wife. If the busy housewife finds but 
little time for her much-loved books and 
papers, she is likely to covet the hours 
for herself that are given, very often, to 
the entertainment of the woman whose 
chief enjoyment is in the feast of good 
things served up to her, and whose 
mind is absorbed in her neighbor’s 
affairs, her fancy work, and the cut of 
her dress. We cannot always indulge 
our own inclinations ; a little unselfish¬ 
ness brings its own reward, but no per¬ 
son ought to tax time or strength 
too heavily trying to fulfill social obli¬ 
gations, 
Why They Leave the Farm. 
I have lived in different country 
neighborhoods, and I have never known 
a family to leave the farm because of its 
loneliness. I have known of many 
moving into town so that their children 
might have the advantage of good 
schools ; this was almost a necessity, as 
the average country schools are very 
inferior affairs. 
Neither have the different cases of 
insanity that have come under my 
observation been the result of isolation. 
Every case was caused by trouble or 
disease. One of the most logical and 
stirring papers read before a northern 
Grange was written by a woman who 
had been an inmate of an asylum. She 
brought forward arguments and statis¬ 
tics (I have since seen the latter con¬ 
tradicted in print) to prove that a 
greater percentage of farmers’ wives 
than of any other class of women, be¬ 
came insane, and that the insanity was 
caused by the terrible monotony and 
loneliness of farm life. Yet when I in¬ 
vestigated this particular case,as I had an 
opportunity of doing a few years after, 
and about the time of her second return 
from the asylum, I learned that she had 
lived nearly all her life in town or city ; 
A SWING FOR THE CHILDREN. Flo. 208. 
that her country home was pleasantly 
situated, and that her husband and 
children had made her life as pleasant 
as it was possible for them to do. Yet 
she had been twice an inmate of an 
insane asylum. In this case, the in¬ 
sanity was hereditary, and its develop¬ 
ment was brought on by disease and ill 
health. 
I see no wisdom in frightening the 
lonely farmer’s wife into the idea that 
she runs a great risk of becoming insane 
because circumstances may require her 
to live in an isolated home. Although 
life may become a burden to the woman 
who finds herself alone, and who does 
not care for books, the monotony of her 
existence depends greatly upon her hus¬ 
band and herself. In such cases, visit¬ 
ing should, certainly, be encouraged. 
The quickened mind and heart from 
social converse mean better health, 
more cheerful lives, and greater capacity 
for work. 
Before dropping this subject, I must 
speak of the social life of the South as 
seen during my two years’ sojourn here. 
It is that of our great grandfathers’ 
day. The family are bundled into an 
emigrant wagon—every farmer has one— 
and hie away to some neighbor’s for the 
day. If the weather turn stormy, the 
visit may be lengthened to that of a 
week, with mutual satisfaction to all 
concerned. True hospitality is always 
graceful, and it is developed most fully 
beside the southern hearth. The unex¬ 
pected guest to dinner seems to have no 
terrors for the southern hostess. One is 
made to feel that he is most welcome, 
and if the hostess have only corn bread 
and coffee to set before her guest, she 
seems to be unconscious of the fact that 
it is not a banquet. She certainly 
makes no apologies. Josephine stark. 
FOR THE CHILDREN. 
A LL children enjoy swinging, and a 
swing on a porch or in an out¬ 
building furnishes a delightful pastime. 
Fig. 208 shows one that is perfectly 
safe and easily operated by the child it¬ 
self. The construction is so simple and so 
plainly shown, as to need little explana¬ 
tion. The long strips should be of tough, 
straight-grained wood—ash, for instance 
—lxl>£ inch and in length to suit the posi¬ 
tion selected. Let the top board be 
6x24 inches, and the seat board 1x2 feet. 
In order to make it perfectly safe, have 
a metal piece, a, made from a half-inch 
rod ; this passes over the top board, and 
down the side pieces, and is made fast 
with screws. A sort of eye or similar 
loop is fastened to a joist or the ceiling. 
Near the top, is a cross-piece from which 
a cord runs forward over a pulley, and 
hangs down within reach of the child, 
who, by pulling on it, moves the swing. 
j. m. s. 
WHY THE FARM IS BEST FOR BOYS. 
A NARROW tendency is manifested 
by those engaged in professional 
life, to underrate the importance of life 
on the farm ; it is considered a half- 
alive and half-dead sort of existence. 
But what can be more dead than the 
impecunious, hard worked clerkship in 
the city, with exacting duties, and little 
or no time for leisure or recreation ? 
The hope of the country, next to re¬ 
ligion, lies in its small farms, and con¬ 
sequently in bringing up the rising gen¬ 
eration to work the farm. Bring up the 
children with just ideas of the independ¬ 
ence, the resources, the utility of life on 
the farm. Farming means hard work ; 
but there is always time for rest and re¬ 
creation, such as is afforded by no other 
occupation. Many country boys, who 
have secured situations in the city, have 
thrown them up and returned home. 
They find working on the farm easier 
and more profitable than working early 
and late for some jobbing-house, and 
trying to sleep at nights in the oven¬ 
like attics of cheap boarding-houses. 
Their wages are very small, their food 
inferior, they are overworked and have 
little or no recreation. Whereas, if they 
were working on the farm, they would 
have good beds and bedrooms, and sub¬ 
stantial food, which are enough to make 
a man happy. The boys in the city that 
are thus engaged, find themselves minor 
parts of some huge commercial machine, 
TWj’Mstwr*; 
Enameiti?e 
DUSTLESS, ODORLESS, 
BRILLIANT, LABOR SAVING 
Try it on your Cycle Chain. 
J. L. PRESCOTT & CO., New York. 
