1913. 
THE RURAL, NEW-YORKER 
1027 
The Rural Patterns. 
When ordering patterns always give 
number of pattern and measurement de¬ 
sired. 
The first group includes 7681 child’s 
tucked dress, one, two and four years. 
707 embroidery design. 7952 child’s 
dress, six months, one, two and four 
years. 616 embroidery design. 7982 
child’s dress, two to six years. 7980 
boy’s suit, two to six years. 7973 boy’s 
middy suit, two to six years. 
The second group shows 79S5 semi- 
prineesse dress for misses and small wo¬ 
men. 16 and IS years. 7972 draped 
semi-princesse dress for misses and small 
women, 16 and 18 years. 7967 fancy 
blouse with tunic, 34 to 42 bust. 7987 
girl’s dress, 10 to 14 years. 7966 girl’s 
Balkan middy suit, eight to 14 years. 
Price of each pattern 10 cents. 
One Woman on a Farm. 
The women of our neighborhood are 
considered unsociable. The men ask us, 
jokingly, if we are “mad.” I do not be¬ 
lieve that we neglect one another in 
times of sickness or trouble, but I will 
admit that it always requires consider¬ 
able effort to bring about our social 
times. On one of our recent picnics w» 
decided that the reason for this attitude 
among us lies in the fact that ours is a 
oue-woman-on-the-farm” neighborhood. 
No one knows the position of such wo¬ 
men except those similarly placed. There 
seems to be no one to take your place; 
you often long for a sympathetic, helping 
hand. As long as you are well you hurry 
through your multitude of tasks; if you 
are ill, it is surprising how many it takes 
to do the work which you have been do¬ 
ing alone. You wish for someone to pre¬ 
pare the breakfast on wash-day morn¬ 
ings; for a nimble-fingered fairy of a 
grandmother to seize upon the mending 
and darning. When guests are expected 
there is no daughter of the house to pur 
graceful touches here and there; when 
they arrive unexpectedly, your joy is 
lessened because you must run hither and 
thither attending to so many things,— 
with no one to make it easier. While 
you work with your fowls, your thoughts 
are of the work unfinished in the house; 
when you are in the house, you are wish¬ 
ing there was someone to give the fowls 
more attention, to care for the flowers, 
and to save the fruit. 
If you must go to town in the after¬ 
noon, you hurry through your after-din¬ 
ner work, dress hastily, drive thence,— 
probably sitting upright in your carriage 
with muscles unrelaxed—do your shop¬ 
ping and dealing, then hurry home with 
thoughts of a late supper and neglected 
poultry on your mind. 
You wish you did not feel that you 
ought to go to church. That leaves you 
no day of rest; for you must hurry with 
your work on Sunday morning, dress the 
children and hurry off, to return to a late 
dinner. However, you cannot deny that 
even your hasty trip to town was a help 
—mentally. If it did nothing else, it 
strengthened your dislike for the town 
and your love for the quiet of the coun¬ 
try. And you were glad, after all, that 
you had gone to church. You did not 
know exactly whether it was the sermon 
or the friendly chats with neighbors after¬ 
ward ; at any rate, you felt better bal¬ 
anced when you returned home. These 
admissions make you better able to ana¬ 
lyze your own case when you become de¬ 
spondent in your work. For, occasion¬ 
ally) you will feel that you are accom¬ 
plishing nothing; that no one has ever 
kept house or managed work quite so 
miserably as you have; no one was ever 
so continually rushed or so ill-paid. You 
make these charges softly, to yourself. 
A little voice asks you to withhold judg¬ 
ment just a little. You think perhaps a 
change will help, but you think you can¬ 
not possibly go—everything in and about 
the house will go to wreck without yon.. 
Finally when you have decided that you 
will try to go—surely an ambassador 
could get off to Russia with preparations 
of less importance! The sewing and 
mending must be “done up,” the house 
in order, the young poultry weaned, cook¬ 
ing “done ahead.” Then you leave half¬ 
heartedly, and with a tiny advance home¬ 
sick feeling, for you are not only leaving 
loved ones and home, but work in which 
you have been wholly absorbed. You 
feel convinced that you could rest much 
better at home than anywhere else, if—. 
But that “if” brings up visions of work 
that would be staring you in the face, and 
you go! 
You stay perhaps only a few days, but 
you learn many, many things. You gain 
an outsider’s view of the very kind of 
life you have been leading. You learn 
to appreciate more your own worth and 
to depreciate trifles that have bound you 
as if they had been vital. Upon your 
return your home seems to be the sweet¬ 
est place on earth. You are refreshed 
and vow you will never complain again 
if work piles mountain high. But to 
preserve this frame of mind, you must 
consider your physical self. Constant 
strain and routine will certainly affect 
the health and depress the mind, espe¬ 
cially if one works alone. It is far more 
economical to take an occasional rest 
than to pay doctors’ and surgeons’ bills. 
Of course there are cases where it 
would seem impossible to get any variety 
into lives; duties are too numerous and 
insistent. But more frequently there are 
ways if we are only open-hearted enough 
to receive them. I will not write of par¬ 
ticular cases, but I have known some that 
have seemed remarkable to me. It seems 
to me that the oue-woman-on-a-farm 
owes it to herself and to her family oc¬ 
casionally to get in social touch with the 
outside world; very few women are won¬ 
derful enough to broaden unless they 
do so. l. s. 
Titat human life may be united as in¬ 
timately as possible to divine life is the 
aim of the religious idea. Religion, sci¬ 
ence and nature ought to be considered 
compatible one with the other, not be¬ 
cause they cannot meet, but because they 
mutually penetrate each other and are 
inwardly related.—Prof. Emile Boutroux. 
100,000 Girls 
Belong to One Club 
Yet Few Know About It 
The girls have a gold and 
diamond badge: every girl 
in the club makes money: 
some make over a thou¬ 
sand dollars a year. And 
yet, broadly speaking, few 
know about this club: the 
happiest, brightest and 
most prosperous club of 
alert girls anywhere in 
America perhaps. 
Where is this club? It is at¬ 
tached to The Ladies' Home - 
Journal: a part of the personal 
service that is back of the mag¬ 
azine, and has made it, as some 
one said: “not a publication 
but an institution.” 
The club is called simply 
“The Girls’ Club.” Its motto 
is as unique as anything about 
it: “With One Idea: to Make 
Money.” It has a girl manager 
at the head of it, and every year 
she writes to and keeps in direct 
touch with these 100,000 girls. 
Unique, isn’t it? Good to know about 
it, if you are a girl, or have a girl. 
Each month the club has a regular 
column in The Ladled Home Journal. 
If you are a girl, young or old. and 
are interested in this club’s “One 
Idea,” send a letter of inquiry to 
THE GIRLS’ CLUB 
THE LADIES’ HOME JOURNAL 
INDEPENDENCE SQUARE 
PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA 
