622 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER 
August 19, 
From Day to Day. 
THE LORD WANTS REAPERS. 
O dwellers in the valley land. 
Who in deep twilight grope and cower 
Till the slow mountain's dial hand 
Shoi tens to noon's triumphal hour. 
Why sit ye idle, do you think 
The Lord"s great work sits idle, too? 
That light dare not o'erleap the brink 
Of morn, because 'tis dark with you? 
Though yet your valleys skulk in night. 
In God’s ripe field the day is dried. 
And reapers with their sickles bright. 
Troop, singing, down the mountain side: 
Come ye and feel what health there is 
In the frank dawn's delighted eyes. 
As, bending with a pitying kiss, 
The night-shed tears of earth $he dries ! 
The Lord wants reapers : O mount up. 
Before night comes and says “Too late!” 
Stay not for taking scrip or cup. 
The Master hungers while ye wait: 
’Tis from these heights alone your eyes 
The advancing spears of day can see. 
That o'er the eastern hilltops rise. 
To break your long captivity. 
—James Russell Lowell. 
When a snugly fitting wash waist is 
buttoned down the back, little crocheted 
buttons are much more reliable than pearl 
to fasten it. They do not come un¬ 
buttoned nearly so easily as the slippery 
pearl. 
* 
Blueberry bread is a Summer dainty. 
Sift together a quart of flour, two heaping 
teaspoonfuls of baking powder and a level 
teaspoonful of salt. Turn in cold milk 
enough to make a stiff batter, and add two 
cupfuls of blueberries which have been 
washed, drained and dried. Bake in a 
square, shallow pan. Serve hot with 
butter. The bread should be broken, not 
cut. 
* 
Baked corn and tomatoes is a Summer 
dish that will be found welcome at dinner 
or supper: Fill an earthen pudding dish 
with alternate layers of corn and toma¬ 
toes, each about an inch thick. Season 
each with salt, pepper and butter. When 
the dish is full sprinkle with grated bread 
crumbs and bits of butter. Cover the dish 
with a plate and bake in a moderately hot 
oven for 20 minutes. Then remove the 
cover and bake 15 minutes longer. 
whose thoughtful sympathy always makes 
them welcome, no matter how busy the 
household may be, but they never wear 
out that welcome by thoughtless invasions 
of the hostess’s rights. 
* 
One of the oddest developments of the 
eccentrically curved new hats is the use 
of little bunches of false hair to fill up 
any unbecoming gaps. They are little 
curls or puffs attached to hairpins; when 
the hat is in place, if any bare and yawn¬ 
ing vacancies show in the curves under 
the brim one of these pieces of hair is 
pinned on to fill it up. It recalls the time, 
many years ago, when an elaborately 
curled “fringe” was worn over the fore¬ 
head, which was often uncurled by the 
pressure of a hat, so many women wore 
an artificial fringe pinned into the hat. 
The effect was rather startling when a 
lady crowned with coquettish curls re¬ 
moved her hat and the curls with it, 
showing a coiffure of Quakerish sim¬ 
plicity. People who believe that false hair 
is not so much worn now as in the days 
of enormous chignons, when elderly 
set ’em up there on the mantelpiece to 
kind of remind us. 1 think some time, 
maybe, we’ll have regular photographs 
taken in Nasliuy that would show our 
failings still better.” 
Mrs. Jenkins removed her own likeness 
from the mantel, held it at a distance, 
then brought it close to her eyes; then 
she held it appealingly toward the Sum¬ 
mer boarder. 
“The rest of ’em are faithful, but mine— 
I haven’t got any such a cant to my eye¬ 
brows as that, one up and one down, now 
have I ?” she asked, with much anxiety. 
The Other Side 
Prudence Primrose has shown us the 
dark side of the country spinster’s lot on 
page 543. She would have all such give 
up trying to subsist upon next to noth¬ 
ing, and take service in the homes of 
wealthy and well-to-do people. Now as a 
matter of fact, the middle-aged spinster 
would be of no use in a fine city house. 
She knows how to prepare her simple 
meals, but would be all at sea in cooking 
a dinner of half a dozen courses. With¬ 
out training, she would not make a skill¬ 
ful waitress, nor could she assist my lady 
at her toilet and look after her laces and 
lingerie. In simpler homes, the service 
may be comparatively easy, but even here, 
would she adapt herself to the conditions? 
\ ; T 
THE YOUNG CAVALIER. Fig. 262. 
a few spices. Pack in small jars, cover 
with hot lard, and seal tightly. It will 
keep for some time when sealed, but 
should be used at once when opened. 
* 
Charity Sweetheart’s reference to the 
* women hid the beauty of white hair under In the country, she is considered “as good 
Deviled ham is a convenience for sand- a waved bdse f'ont of fearful blackness, as anybody. She is a person of some 
wich filling and a pleasant accompaniment w0ldd change their minds if they visited education and refinement. In her new po- 
for scrambled eggs or omelet. It can be 3 fasllional;,le hairdresser’s. The amount sition, she is simply Mrs. So and So’s 
made from scraps of boiled ham too small of P urchased hair worn nlust be enormous, hired girl, and many are the humiliations 
to make neat slices. Run the pieces but 11 is 80 wel1 match ed and arranged she must bear, besides the loss of most 
through a meat chopper twice or three now that ifc 110 lon S er looks artificial. social privileges. Some years ago, a story 
times, so as to make a paste. Season r . was written foi one of the magazines 
highly with mixed mustard, pepper and The tint ype man had found a remuner- which was more than a fancy picture of 
ative field in Ashton, says the Youth’s the trials of a woman of middle station 
Companion. When the Summer boarder in securing domestic help. At last, she 
arrived that year at Willow Farm, she broke down under the strain of alter- 
noticed that the parlor mantel was adorned r.ating between very bad servants and 
with staring, large-sized tintypes of all none at all, and was forced to go away 
the Jenkins family. for rest and recuperation. Then her im- 
“He charged us overprice, and they’re pulsive, fourteen-year-old daughter solved 
unexpected visitors who make Sunday fearful plain, arn’t they?” said Mrs. Jen- the problem by an advertisement begin- 
anything but a day of rest to many a kins to her guest. “But they’ve done us ning with: “Wanted, a good girl in a good 
country housewife will apply to a great a sight of good.” home for good pay,” and ending with the 
many localities. It is not easy for a “Yes,” said the young woman, vaguely, statement, “She can have a fire in her 
woman whose impulses are generous and “I suppose tl;ey might—” room.” It was a desperate expedient, but 
hospitable to own even to herself that “Lawzee, dear child, there’s no reason it worked. There were 200 answers to 
guests often become burdensome. But you should know what I mean,” inter- the advertisement, and by means of it, 
too often it is not the longed-for friend rupted Mrs. Jenkins. “But you take a they secured a woman whom they could, 
who makes these visitations, but some ac- family of folks living on a farm, and and did take into their home and treat as 
quaintance who reckons upon one’s hos- growing old together, same as Ab and one of themselves. Until the women 
pitality as a convenience or an economy, Jane and Henry and I are, and we don’t “with pockets full of money” are willing 
or a family connection who takes it as a notice little ways we’ve got into. But to give more than the bare dollars to those 
right, without returning it in sympathy or the night after we had those taken we who serve them, they will not recruit their 
kindliness. Some of the worst sinners stood ’em up in a row and looked at ’em. help from the country spinsters who have 
in this respect are town acquaintances, “ ‘Do I chew my mouth down to the a roof over their heads and independ- 
who only see the leisure side of farm life, left that way?’ said Ab. ence. 
and entirely ignore the cares and duties “ ‘Is my forehead any such bed 
that go with it. They would never think o’ wrinkles as that?’ said Jane, 
of dropping in upon some town friend in “‘Do I commonly squint my eyes up 
the same way, staying to a meal or two, like that?’ asked Henry, 
but look upon it as one of the privileges “And every time the rest of us, put tions and cases, but domestic help is too 
of the country. There are some guests to it truthful, had to say yes. So we’ve scarce for such a condition to prevail gen- 
Is the life of many women in the coun¬ 
try, women who are capable, energetic, 
and resourceful as hard as has been pic¬ 
tured? It may be true in isolated sec- 
erally. For some time, I employed the 
only woman in the community who could 
be had for a day’s work. She had bought 
a small place, and was paying for it in 
this way. She has since removed to a 
neighboring village. I met her not long 
ago. Prosperity was written all over her. 
This woman is not a spinster, but she sup¬ 
ports a ne’er-do-well husband who is as 
much of a burden as most single women 
have to carry. Several new enterprises 
which afford employment for women have 
sprung up here in the last few years. One 
is the “beanery.” Large quantities of 
beans are raised by the farmers, and these 
are hand-picked almost entirely by women. 
When the bean-sorting establishment was 
started in a deserted store in our village 
with 40 machines; some one doubtfully 
asked the proprietor where he expected to 
get the help. “You will see,” was the 
quiet answer, and his confidence was justi¬ 
fied. There is no lack of women and girls 
from the village and surrounding country 
to keep the machines running. Some 
whose domestic duties keep them from 
resorting to the beanery, buy a machine 
and work at home. The pickle factory 
was built last year. Women make the 
most careful and thorough pickers in the 
cucumber fields, and earn good wages 
through the late Summer and Fall. Berry 
picking and work in the apple evaporators 
help to swell the purse of our country 
spinster. 
Is it not largely our own fault when 
our lives become narrow? We have failed 
to keep our sympathies awake. This may 
happen to us anywhere, for the cause lies 
not in our surroundings but within our¬ 
selves.. Charles Wagner has taught us 
that the best living is that laid down on 
a few broad lines and which avoids the 
perplexing tangle of side issues and by¬ 
paths. Where is this easier than in the 
country? Charity Sweetheart’s case re¬ 
minds me of the lad in one of Lincoln’s 
stories who worked in a shipyard. He 
was always selected to knock away the 
supports that held the ship on the ways, 
because he did it better than anyone else, 
but he always screamed as if in mortal 
agony all the time he was doing it. I 
think those who are bravely and unsel¬ 
fishly doing good work in hard places 
ought to be allowed the privilege of “hol¬ 
lering” if they feel like it, particularly if 
they are women, for this is often the 
greatest relief to their overcharged nerves. 
I would say to those middle-aged spin¬ 
sters who have a home, even “a poorly 
equipped cottage” in the country, and who 
feel that it is the dearest spot on earth, 
cling to it and leave to younger women 
the hazarding of new fortunes. In the 
words of Dante, may you never learn 
“how hard is the going up and down 
others’ stairs.” m. e. colegrove. 
Quick Pickles. 
The quickest and easiest way of making 
cucumber pickles that I ever have found 
is to put a gallon of vinegar and one cup¬ 
ful, each, of salt and mustard into a two 
gallon crock; pick small, quickly grown 
cucumbers; rub off the black specks, and 
put into vinegar. In a few days the 
pickles are ready for use. Some people 
add a cup of sugar and one of grated 
horseradish to the above recipe, but it is 
a matter of taste, as neither is necessary 
to the keeping quality of the pickles. 
Each time cucumbers are added to those 
in the crock all should be well stirred 
up from the bottom. It is a good plan 
to put a quart of vinegar with its proper 
proportion of salt and mustard into a two- 
quart glass can, and fill in cucumbers for 
immediate use. 
For a good pickle without mustard: 
Put a teacupful of salt and a tablespoon¬ 
ful of powered alum into a gallon of 
vinegar. Pick small cucumbers and pour 
a weak brine over them, boiling hot. Let 
stand over night; drain, and put into 
prepared vinegar. Add cucumbers as 
convenient, and when as many have been 
put into the vinegar as it will cover scald 
them up, and put into fresh vinegar, to 
which has been added a little red pepper 
and horseradish eva ryman-gaillard. 
