122 
THE RURAL N E W-YORKER 
January £4* 
Woman and the Home 
From Day to Day 
SOMETIME. 
Sometime, when all life’s lessons have 
been learned, 
And sun and stars forevermore have set, 
The things which our weak judgments 
here have spurned, 
The things o’er which we grieved with 
lashes wet. 
Will flash before us out of life’s dark 
night 
As stars shine most in deeper tints of 
blue, 
And we shall see how all God’s plans 
were right, 
And how what seemed reproof was love 
most true. 
And we shall sec how, while we frown 
and sigh, 
God’s plans' go on as best for you and 
me; 
How, when we called, lie heeded not our 
cry, 
Because Ilis wisdom to the end could see. 
And e’en as prudent parents disallow 
Too much sweet to craving babyhood, 
So God, perhaps, is keeping from us now 
life’s sweetest things because it seometh 
good. 
And if. some, times, commingled with life’s 
wine, 
We- find the wormwood, and rebel and 
shrink, 
Be sure a wiser hand than yours or mine 
Pours out the potion for our lips to drink. 
And if some friend we love is lying low, 
Where human kisses can not reach his 
face, 
Oh, do not blame the loving Father so, 
But bear your sorrow with obedient 
grace! 
And you shall shortly know that length¬ 
ened breath 
Is not the sweetest gift God sends his 
friends, 
And that, sometimes, the sable pall of 
death 
Conceals the fairest boon Ilis love can 
send, 
If we could push ajar the gates of life, 
And stand within, and all God’s working 
see, 
We could interpret all this doubt and 
strife, 
And for each mystery could find a key. 
But not to-day; then be content, poor 
hearts, 
God’s plans like lilies pure and white un¬ 
fold ; 
We must not tear the close-shut leaves 
apart— 
Time will reveal the calyxes of gold. 
And if, through patient toil, we reach the 
land 
Where tired feet, with sandals loosed, 
may rest, 
When we shall know and clearly under¬ 
stand, 
I think that we shall say that “God knows 
best.” —Mrs. May Iiiley Smith. 
* 
We were recently asked to reprint the 
following recipe for mincemeat, given in 
1907 by a western reader who said it 
gave great satisfaction when canned and 
sold to private customers. Its peculiarity 
is that it has no spice: Chop fine separ¬ 
ately three pounds of cooked lean beef, 
two pounds of suet, and one peck of tart 
apples. Add two pounds raisins, half pound 
of sliced citron, one-fourth pound of can¬ 
died orange peel, one quart of canned 
cherries, pitted, one pint of apple butter, 
two cups of cider, two pounds of cur¬ 
rants, one glass of orange marmalade, one 
quart of grape juice and two tablespoon¬ 
fuls of salt. Scald, and store in fruit 
jars like fanned fruit. 
A recent press bulletin sent sent out 
by the Department of Agriculture refers 
to the use of suet in cooking, and de¬ 
plores the fact that much of it, in this 
country, is thrown away or used in soap¬ 
making, instead of cookery. We think, 
however, that farm housewives at least 
are not in the habit of wasting good fat, 
nor have we met with cook-books that 
teach us suet is only good for soap-mak¬ 
ing. The circular gives the following re¬ 
cipe for making a mixture of lard and 
beef suet, which will be found useful: 
Take two parts of suet and one of 
leaf lard, finely ground, and mix together. 
Render this with whole milk in the pro¬ 
portion of one-half pint milk to two 
pounds of the mixed suet and lard. (Ren¬ 
der means to melt down or to clarify by 
melting). The suet and lard mixture 
may be finely divided by passing it 
through a meat grinder, and may then be 
heated in a double boiler, when the fat 
will be quickly released from the tissues, 
and when allowed to cool will form a 
cake on the surface of the liquid which 
may be easily removed. This fat has a 
good odor, color and texture, and is softer 
than the suet alone. It is useful for fry¬ 
ing and the shortening of foods with high 
flavors and may be used with fair results 
in shortening such things as baking pow¬ 
der biscuits. It is useful for cooking 
vegetables either alone or with the addi¬ 
tion of a little butter. 
In our own locality, beef suet costs 12 
cents a pound, and we have to beg the 
local butcher in advance to get it for 
us. If anyone is throwing suet away, 
it certainly is not the housewives, and 
we doubt whether the packers and oleo 
men are wasting much of it either. 
❖ 
Nothing gives one a better introduc¬ 
tion to a stranger than a well-written 
letter. The fine art of letter-writing is 
born in one, rather than acquired, but 
that is no reason why an ordinary com¬ 
munication should not be readable, neat¬ 
ly written, properly spelled and punc¬ 
tuated. And how few letters come up to 
this modest standard! The writing may 
be so indistinct that, as Aldrich said of 
Prof. Morse’s caligraphy, “all the t’s look 
like w’s, and the i’s have no eyebrows.” 
Then the writer may have a taste for 
shiny paper, and a fondness for a purple 
lead pencil, which compels the unlucky 
recipient to slant the letter at a certain 
angle before it can be deciphered, be¬ 
cause the gloss of the paper makes 
the pencil marks almost invisible. 
Persons who have been denied ed¬ 
ucational opportunities are not by 
any means the worst offenders; there 
are entirely too many cultivated people 
who forget that writing is speech made 
visible. So we put legibility first, and 
for this a letter demands dull finished 
paper and black ink. The writing should 
be distinct, not too small, and the lines 
should never be crowded together. If we 
add to this simple diction, which ex¬ 
presses the writer’s meaning, we have 
a letter to gladden a busy reader, and 
one that conveys an excellent impression 
of the writer’s intelligence. Where early 
education has been limited, it is quite 
possible to correct errors in speech or 
writing by the use of some little book 
designed for this purpose. “Mistakes in 
Writing English,” by Marshall T. Bige¬ 
low (price 50 cents), is an excellent book 
for this purpose, and we might add to 
this, “A Handbook of Conversation,” by 
Andrew P. Peabody (price 50 cents), 
which points out common errors in speech 
and pronounciation. As a final sugges¬ 
tion in desirable letter-writing, we might 
add a warning against fancy note paper. 
No one ever errs in using paper of con¬ 
venient size, white, cream, gray or dull 
blue, absolutely without ornamentation, 
but when fancy colors or decoration are 
chosen there is always risk of some ex¬ 
aggerated absurdity. Good taste in cor¬ 
respondence, as in most other things, is 
based upon sincerity and simplicity. 
Making Over a Boy. 
To listen to most present-day mothers, 
the children they have known from the 
hour of their birth present so many com¬ 
plicated and varied problems that one 
would surely think the task of being a 
mother was almost too great to be worked 
out in these progressive times. Every 
woman has a theory, if not two or three, 
and the children are the victims on 
which she tries them. Everyone says 
this is the “age of the child,” and it 
must be, for little else is talked about. 
But if a woman with no children ven¬ 
tures an opinion she is immediately “sat 
upon” by the up-to-date mothers. 
1 have been sat upon so often on the 
child question that one would suppose I 
bad long since meekly given up all my 
theories, but not so. When a little child 
came into my heart and home last year, 
a little boy about whose ancestry I knew 
nothing, I determined to show some flesh 
and blood mothers a thing or two about 
my despised theories. The little orphan 
was so poorly nourished and badly fed 
that he could hardly walk across the 
room without falling down, and his sleep 
was so broken and he was so restless in 
the daytime that many mothers would 
have put him down as nervous on the 
spot. But one of my theories is not to 
talk to children about their nerves, so 
that subject was never mentioned in his 
hearing. 
It isn’t a long story, but to me it is 
an interesting one, and it may help the 
mothers of such children. No attempt 
was made to teach the boy anything at 
all at first, except that we loved him 
and wanted him to be happy. Every de¬ 
fect was ignored, and he was never cor¬ 
rected. He was treated much as farm¬ 
ers treat little animals that they want 
to grow up sturdy and healthy. At half 
past six each evening lie went quietly 
to bed in a well-ventilated dark room, 
without the exciting game of romps that 
some people allow their children. He 
slept very- fitfully at first and cried out 
a great deal but gradually he settled 
down into what looks like dreamless 
sleep. In the morning he was allowed 
to waken naturally and have his break¬ 
fast at eight. Generally he sleeps from 
half past six to half past seven next 
morning. 
Ilis food is quite simple and consists 
mostly of milk, eggs, fruit, chicken, soups, 
bread and butter and honey. lie will not 
eat meat except chicken, but I do not try 
to force him. His meals are as regular 
as the clock, and so are his “pieces.” 
He must have an apple or bread with 
thick butter or an orange for his lunch. 
If he refuses this he must wait till meal 
time, lie was sallow, dyspeptic, hollow- 
eyed, thin and bloodless when we received 
him, so I determined to see what good 
feeding would do. He has three or four 
pieces of good candy every day right after 
dinner and that is all. 
His clothes are never fussy, but warm 
and comfortable. Ilis pleasures are sim¬ 
ple. lie ran wild on the farm all Sum¬ 
mer in little rompers, and grew sun¬ 
burned and happy. With his tin can 
containing his mid-morning luncheon he 
happily tagged the men during haying 
and harvesting. He has never seen a 
moving picture show, has never been kept 
up late so his parents could go to a party 
or social, has never lost an hour’s sleep, 
except on Christmas Eve, when as a 
great treat he was allowed to be up till 
eight o’clock at a little Sunday school 
entertainment, and he certainly never has 
been allowed to go to bed excited and ex¬ 
hausted. Somebody holds him quietly 
and reads to him after supper, so he 
gets to bed happy. Only happy, gentle 
and soothing stories are told at bedtime. 
In less than one year he had grown 
four inches, gained six pounds and has 
turned from a timid, scared, delicate, un¬ 
happy little boy to a noisy, shouting, 
romping healthy youngster. He has for¬ 
gotten every one of the stories he used 
to tell of his old life, he doesn’t know 
his name any more, and he knows to a 
certainty that we are his firm friends. 
He eats and sleeps and plays and grows 
and that is his short history. We think, 
and our friends tell us. that he is entire¬ 
ly made over. At first he would stand 
at the window gazing out at nothing with 
a frightened, pathetic look on his thin 
little face, but now he is engaged in 
coasting, kicking his football, playing 
marbles and everything boys love, so he 
has no time to be sad. Ilis whole face 
has changed, as we know from his pic¬ 
tures, and we feel sure that our great 
trouble in the near future will be to 
keep enough food in the pantry for his 
appetite and enough trousers and stock¬ 
ings on hand that he may look present¬ 
able. His dyspepsia and nervousness 
and crying spells and peevishness are 
gone, never to come back, we think, but 
all the same we haven’t relaxed our sys¬ 
tem a bit. He will continue to get 13 
hours of sleep each night as long as he 
will take it, and his meals will receive 
care and thought as long as he is grow¬ 
ing, if I live to look after him. I can 
see that wonders have been accomplished 
during the time we have had him, but 
there is more to be done. So far my 
“bodily” theories have worked beautifully, 
and time will tell what my intellectual 
theories will work out. It has been an 
interesting and profitable occupation, and 
promises to be more interesting as the 
days go by. Many of my friends pity me 
that I have to give up this or that, but 
I count it all joy to have a small share 
in the building up of a sound body, and 
seeing a little life expand in the sunshine 
and warmth of a home life that lie never 
knew before. Hilda Richmond. 
Meat Souffle. —Make a sauce of one 
teaspoonful butter, one tablespoouful 
flour, one cup milk or stock, dash of salt 
and pepper. Stir into sauce one cun 
chopped cooked meat (chicken is excel¬ 
lent) ; one-half cup bread or cracker 
crumbs. Remove from fire, add yolks of 
two eggs, beat light. Fold in whites 
beaten stiff. Put in greased baking dish, 
set dish in tin of water. Bake 40 min¬ 
utes or until light brown. I find this 
recipe very useful; ham is not quite as 
good as fresh meats. MRS. R. T. u. 
Fanner Mcddcrs: “Here’s your 
box o’ soap, Maria. Good morn¬ 
ing, Anty. Maria keeps me bid¬ 
ing her Fels-Naptha Soap now. 
Won’t use anything else. Seems 
to me she’s getting most too spry 
these days, with no work to do. 
That boarder rode to town with 
me today, and she asked me, 
‘Don’t you ever come to the city 
to see the sights?’ And I sez, 
‘Oh, no; we see ’em every sum¬ 
mer.’ Ha ! ha ! Well, seeing you 
don’t need wood for a fire or 
anything, I’ll go out to the barn 
and let you get your washin’ 
done. I don’t have to help any 
more, Anty, since Maria’s using 
sense and Fels-Naptha Soap.” 
There is no need 
for women to be 
tired and sick from 
overwork. F e 1 s - 
Naptha Soap will 
cut your work in 
half. It is the easy 
way of doing all 
the disagreeable 
parts of house¬ 
work. 
Use Fels-Nap¬ 
tha in cool or 
lukewarm water 
for your weekly 
washing, houseclean¬ 
ing—everything you 
have to do. Clothes 
washed with Fels- 
Naptha do not need to 
be rubbed hard, nor 
boiled and are on the 
line in half the time it 
used to take. 
For making your 
work easy, use Fels- 
Naptha Soap and fol¬ 
low directions on the 
red and green wrapper. 
Fetter buy it by the box or carton. 
Fels & Co., Philadelphia. 
FELS-NAPTHA 
