800 
THE RURAL NEW'YORKER 
Woman and the Home 
From Day to Day 
VERMONT. 
Wide and shallow in the cowslip marshes 
Floods the freshet of the April snow. 
Late drifts linger in the hemlock gorges, 
Through the brakes and mosses trickling 
slow, 
Where the May-flower, 
Where the painted Trillium, leaf and 
blow. 
Foliagcd deep, the cool mid-summer maples 
Shade the porches of the long white 
street; 
Trailing wide, Olympian elms lean over 
Tiny churches, where the cross-roads 
meet; 
Fields of fireflies 
Wheel all night like stars above the 
wheat. 
Blaze the mountains in the windless 
Autumn, * 
Frost-clear, blue-nooned apple-ripening 
days; 
Faintly gragrant, in the farther valleys, 
Smoke of many bonfires swells the haze; 
Fair-bound cattle 
Plod with lowing up the meadowy ways. 
Roaring snows, down-sweeping from the up¬ 
lands, 
Bury the still valleys, drift them deep. 
Low along the mountain, lake-blue shadows, 
Sea-blue shadows, in the hollows sleep. 
High above them 
Blinding crystal is the sunlit steep. 
—Sarah N. Clegborn in the Century. 
* 
For rhubarb fool, add to a pint of 
thick well-sweetened rhubarb sauce one 
cup of whipped cream. Chill, and serve 
in sherbet glasses. It may be colored 
pink, if desired, with vegetable color¬ 
ing or raspberry syrup. 
* 
Rhubarb cobbler is made as follows: 
Prepare a batter with a cupful of 
sour milk, a half teaspoonful of soda 
dissolved in a little cold water, added 
to the milk, a tablespoonful of butter 
and enough flour to make a medium 
batter. Put rhubarb, cut in short 
lengths, in pudding dish and sugar it 
generously. Then pour over it the bat¬ 
ter. Bake it in a moderate oven. Serve 
it hot with boiled custard or sugar and 
cream. A nice rhubarb pudding is made 
by filling a pudding dish with alternate 
layers of rhubarb cut up and heavily 
sugared, and bread and butter. Cover 
and bake half an hour, then remove 
the cover and bake 10 minutes longer. 
Serve hot with sauce. 
* 
In noticing the commonplace and even 
vulgarly ugly picture books some par¬ 
ents supply to their children, we wonder 
how many grown men and women owe 
their lack of culture and discrimination 
to this cause. Rare indeed are the 
children who will deliberately choose 
ugliness, save in the person of some 
loved but battered toy, or some forlorn 
yet faithful pet. With surprising fre¬ 
quency they pick out the best, unless 
misguided instructors have taught them 
to choose the commonplace or stupid. 
If a child is encouraged from earliest 
years to admire ugly newspaper pic¬ 
tures, whose alleged humor is based on 
some moral or mental perversion, or 
those that tell some sensational story, 
real beauty will make no appeal. There 
are many practical people who consider 
that the niceties of a discriminating 
taste possess no value, yet such taste 
adds immeasurably to one’s personal 
happiness, and many a girl, possessing 
all sorts of practical virtues, feels, for 
the first time, that she is ignorant and in¬ 
significant when she finds herself among 
people of taste, and must sit silent be¬ 
cause she doesn’t know whether Bou- 
tet de Monvel is a person or a place, 
or why some man who has never ap¬ 
peared in a popular magazine is an 
artist to be looked up to with reverence. 
* 
People who only read “the six best 
sellers” of the moment will think us 
very old-fashioned because we read the 
demure and unexciting novels of Jane 
Austen over and over again. We are 
obliged to defend our taste on the 
ground that this little lady who died 
nearly a century ago is exceedingly up- 
to-date and as sound in her social 
philosophy as in her morals. We think 
many a shy country girl, who feels at 
a loss among strangers, might take 
-courage from some good advice in 
“Mansfield Park.” Fanny Price, the 
heroine, is poor and dependent, and 
very much overshadowed by her hand¬ 
some and fashionable cousins. She la¬ 
ments herself to a sensible friend as 
too foolish and awkward for society. 
He responds: 
“There is no reason in the world 
why you should not be important where 
you are known. You have good sense, 
and a sweet temper, and I am sure you 
have a grateful heart, that could never 
receive kindness without wishing to 
return it. I do not know any better 
qualifications for a friend and com¬ 
panion.” 
Surely there is both consolation and 
advice in this. A girl with good sense 
may feel strange or shy in unaccustom¬ 
ed scenes, but she will not permit her¬ 
self to be awkward. If to her good 
sense she adds sweet temper and kind¬ 
liness she has the qualities that make 
permanent friends—qualities, too, that 
smooth away rough places in the daily 
journey, and add to the happiness of 
those around her. 
Visiting on. the Plains of Colorado. 
“Come and take dinner with us to¬ 
morrow, and spend the day; we are 
poor folks, but we do love to have com¬ 
pany and have enough to eat if not 
such a variety,” said a neighbor, who 
came to ask after our welfare. The 
day proved a pleasant one, and we went. 
This man’s homestead (320 acres) is 
one mile from us. They came here 
from Missouri six years ago, and 
brought a relinquishment. Their 
house is part dugout and part sod. I 
never was in a dugout before. This 
is where they live in cold weather, a 
family of eight children, father and 
mother. The room (dugout) was some 
15x18 feet, I should judge, dug straight 
down the same as a cellar, as the 
ground is perfectly level. Where there 
is a bank or bluff they are dug into 
the side with an opening right onto the 
ground, but in this case one has to 
climb several steps to reach “out of 
doors.” It is built up some two feet of 
sod above ground, with three windows 
put in sidewise; a roof of boards cover¬ 
ed with iron roofing and a pipe chim¬ 
ney. The walls of dirt inside were 
plastered with clay; a board floor; in 
this one room was a large range (new) 
a bedstead, couch, dresser, kitchen cabi¬ 
net, dining table, dish cupboard, 
wash table or stand, chairs, etc. In one 
of the windows on the sod shelf were 
some vines and wandering Jew—also 
geraniums started. There were three 
little girls aged five and three years, 
and four months. Two older girls were 
at school, also two boys, and one, a 
young man 21, was home at the time. 
.We talked and laughed, and after the 
first introduction into a dugout, I did 
not mind the surroundings. The din¬ 
ner was cooking when we went in. The 
big table was drawn out, a clean red 
and white tablecloth spread. The 
crockery of heavy white ware was all 
wiped when taken from the cupboard, 
as well as the steel knives and forks. 
As we seated ourselves at the table we 
were invited to help ourselves, al¬ 
though most was passed to us. The 
dinner consisted of stewed beef and 
soup (not gravy) with potatoes boiled 
with the meat, which was very good. 
New bread was eaten with the soup, 
pickled beans, coffee and cinnamon rolls 
finished the dinner. There was plenty, 
and all good, if not such a variety. Just 
after we finished dinner two neighbors, 
young men came in, one to borrow 
flour, until he could go to town. “Sit 
right down and have some dinner,” was 
the hearty invitation given, “We did not 
come for our dinner,” said one. “Never 
mind, I don’t suppose you did, but sit 
up and have a bite.” So the table was 
fixed for them and they ate as if it 
tasted good to them. This is the true 
hospitality of the Great Plains. 
After all were through eating the 
hostess spread a white cloth over the 
table, and gave up her time from then 
on to our leaving, to visiting without 
work. She went out to the sod house 
part and brought in a large basket, con¬ 
taining photographs of friends and 
views of country, also little keepsakes 
of herself and children. 
Each had a history, and some of it 
was quite interesting, the little girls 
being delighted to look over the “pretty 
things,” but mother insisted on keeping 
their little hands off, which troubled 
them somewhat. “Now you come back 
again,” was the hearty invitation given 
as both followed us to the buggy. “We 
just had a good visit,” they said, as we 
told them of our enjoyment of their 
hospitality. 
As my husband was going to see about 
getting some corn from a man some 
five miles south of us, I went with him 
to see the country. We can see the 
buildings and windmill from here, and I 
often wondered who, and what sort of 
people lived there. We found the man 
in the field, and I waited at the house. 
The lady having come out to ask me in, 
I was much surprised when going in the 
door, I found one long, large room, I 
should judge it was 16x24 feet, the entire 
size of the house. But, oh ! how clean, 
and nice it looked! It had been built 
but two years; the plaster was painted 
buff, and the woodwork pale pink. There 
were four large windows and two sash 
doors in the room. At one end was the 
sitting-room, linoleum covered the en¬ 
tire floor, with ingrain carpet and 
braided rugs, pictures on the walls, a 
couch, Morris chair, and several rock¬ 
ing chairs, a stand and sewing machine; 
large extension table, on which were 
books, papers, magazines, writing ma¬ 
terials and a large lamp. A new soft 
coal heater was in this part. Then 
came a range polished and bright, a din¬ 
ing table, large dish cupboard and cabi¬ 
net, an oil stove, with braided rugs here 
and there, all so comfortable and homey 
and clean. I spent a very pleasant hour 
with the housewife and found her 
Avishing to “go back home” in Iowa. If 
they could sell, she thought they would 
go East somewhere; had a friend in 
New York State, who wanted them to 
go there. She had four sons, one mar¬ 
ried, living in Iowa, and the others af; 
home. I could but compare the sur¬ 
roundings of the two different women 
I have mentioned. The one in the 
dugout seemed the more contented of 
the two. 
I attended a meeting of the Women's 
Missionary Society, which had just been 
organized. It was held at the home of 
the president, well-to-do people for this 
country; only a few were in attendance, 
but all Avere friendly. Here Ave found 
an organ, and as soon as they have 
more room will send for their piano, 
which is still at their old home in Iowa. 
This woman was satisfied here, and 
Avould not go back to Iowa to live. The 
society had a programme at the little 
church last Sunday, and people from 
the country around turned out. Any¬ 
thing new attracts the people. 
There are exceptions to all rules. Tn 
conversation with a man some 30 years 
of age, who is married and had one 
child, told me the happiest years he 
ever spent were on the range in Wyom¬ 
ing, 40 miles from the railroad, and 30 
miles from a neighbor. He looked after 
his cattle and horses alone, built a log 
house; brooks and springs gave them 
plenty of Avater. The first three years 
of his married life Avere spent there. 
“And I would be there now if my wife 
could have been contented.” What a 
desolate life for a young woman! He 
came to Colorado Avhere his parents and 
several brothers are, took up a home¬ 
stead, 12 miles from tOAvn; has it 
stocked Avith horses and cattle. To¬ 
gether with a brother he runs a large 
herd on the range. They are well-to- 
do, still “the call of the Avild” is ever 
haunting him, and he Avould gladly give 
up home among his own people and 
go back to the wild free life again if 
it were not for the wife’s sake. The 
Avild life of the mountains does not 
please me as well as Nature in her more 
gentlemoods. The grandeur of the 
mountains and rocks pleases for a while, 
but we soon tire of it and turn to the 
home country with a feeling of relief 
and rest. mrs. Frederick c. Johnson. 
May 10, 
When you write advertisers mention The 
R. N.-Y. and you’ll get a quick reply and a 
“square deal.” See guarantee editorial page. 
Mrs. Granger — “And now, 
friends, the last thing on our 
program is a standing vote of 
thanks to Anty Drudge for 
coming among us and telling 
us about the wonderful labor- 
saver, Fels-Naptha Soap. 
Every woman who uses 
Fels-Naptha Soap is a life¬ 
long friend of Anty Drudge.” 
There are over 
a million women 
in the United 
States who find 
some reason 
every day to be 
grateful to Anty 
Drudge and Fels- 
Naptha Soap. 
Fels-Naptha Soap 
makes all kinds of 
housework easier, and 
does it better than it 
was ever done before. 
It works best in cool 
or lukewarm water. It 
washes clothes snowy 
white, with no boiling 
and hard rubbing; it 
cuts grease on pots 
and pans, and makes 
china and glassware 
glisten. 
Follow the directions on the inside 
of the Red and Qreen Wrapper. 
FeU & Co., Philadelphia. 
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The Children’s Aid Society 
sirons of knowing tho whereabouts of THOMAI LEAP 
or THOMAS McCARTY, fifteenyoars old, was last heard 
of in January, 1913, when ho was working forGeorge 
Strickland, Cattaraugus, New A’ork. I’leBse send any 
information to R. N. BRACE, 105 East 22d St„ N. Y. City 
RICE 
REDUCES HIGH COST OF LIVING. It is the 
cheapest and best food, 100 ways of us- 
iing it at every meal every day. 100 
POUNDS $4.75 direct from where it is 
grown. Nice, clean, whole grains. Send check 
■'i ireney order. JAMES HOWE, New Orleans La. 
