400 
THE R. U RAL NEW-YORKKK 
March 28, 
Woman and the Home 
CUDDLE DOON. 
The bairnies cuddle doon at nicht, 
Wi mickle fauelit an’ din : 
“Ob, try and sleep, ye waukrife rogues, 
Your faither’s coinin’ in.” 
They never heed a word I speak; 
I try to give a froon. 
But aye, I hap them up and cry, 
“Oh. bairnies, cuddle doon.” 
Wee Jamie wi’. the curly head— 
He aye sleeps next the wa\ 
Bangs up an’ cries, “I want a piece”— 
The rascal starts them a’. 
I rin and fetch them pieces, drinks. 
They stop awee the soun’, 
Then draw the blankets up an’ cry, 
“Noo, weanies, cuddle doon.” 
But ere five minutes gang wee Rab 
Cries ont -free 'neath the claes, 
“Hither, male’ Tam gie ower at once, 
lie’s kittlin wi’ his taes.” 
The mischief’s in that Tam for tricks. 
He’d bother half the toon. 
And aye, I hap them up an’ cry, 
“Oh, bairnies, cuddle doon.” 
At length they hear their faither’s fit, 
Am’ as he stocks the door. 
They turn their faces to the wa\ 
While Tam pretends to snore, 
“Hae a’ the weans been gtule,” he asks 
As he pits off his shoon ; 
“The bairnies, John, are in their bed 
And long since cuddled doon.” 
An’ just before we bed oursel’s, 
We look at our wee lambs: 
Tam has his airm round wee Rab’s neck 
An’ Rab his airm ratin’ Tam’s 
I lift wee Jamie up the bed. 
An’ as I straik each croon, 
I whisper, till my heart fills up 
“Oh, bairnies cuddle doon.” 
The bairnies cuddle down at nicht, 
Wi mirth that’s dear to me; 
But sune the big works eark and care 
Will quaten doon their glee. 
Yet come what will to ilka ane, 
May he who sits aboon 
Aye whisper, though their pows be bauld, 
“Oh, bairnies cuddle doon.” 
—Alex Anderson. 
* 
The Common Question. 
With each forthcoming issue of the 
“Woman and Home Magazine’” we ex¬ 
pect to give practical questions in house¬ 
hold matters. We want to obtain brief 
replies to these questions so that we may 
print the answers in the following maga¬ 
zine issue. In this way it will be possi¬ 
ble to develop a vast amount of practical 
experience. The question for this month 
follows. This problem of carrying ham 
and bacon through the Summer has trou¬ 
bled many a busy housewife; even those 
who have an excellent smoke-house often 
find trouble in carrying the meat through 
the hot weather. The following method 
is practiced in sections of Ohio. We 
would like to have our housekeepers tell 
us if they have found a better way. The 
answers to this question will be printed 
next month, at which time we shall pre¬ 
sent a new problem. 
We are looking for information. The 
method (used by most of the neighbors) 
of storing ham and bacon for Summer 
use seems to be to slice it just as they 
do for use, then cook it about half what 
they would for the table, lay it in a 
common erode, and pour on grease 
enough to cover it. Then slice and fry 
another spiderful and so on. This saves 
the ham, but it does not make very rich 
eating next Summer. 1 would like to 
get some method that will enable us to 
lay the whole ham away until wanted, 
then have it fresh and juicy as it is in 
March. w. u. r. 
* 
If we could see ourselves as others see 
us, there would be a quick change in 
many habits or ways of doing things. If 
the world were all lined with mirrors, 
most of what we call nature or natural 
actions in human beings would be quick¬ 
ly crowded out. Take for example the 
case of the woman shown in the 
picture. Take a guess at what she is 
doing. To save time, we will give you 
the answer. She is calling the men 
folks to dinner. The boss and the hired 
man are in a distant field. The neigh¬ 
bor has walked across, and they are talk¬ 
ing politics. Dinner is ready and the 
women folks are going visiting as soon 
as they get through the meal, so this lady 
is dressed up for her afternoon outing. 
Dinner is ready and getting cold, and yet 
Bill has forgotten to look at the sun, 
and politics has charmed away his hun¬ 
ger; so she is out by the woodpile with 
the wind blowing down her throat, trying 
to make Bill hear. If some one were to 
hold a mirror right up into her face as 
she stands there, there would be a horn 
or a bell or a whistle on that farm within 
24 hours. 
Mr II. Markley, of New Jersey, took 
this picture and then took the other 
which is shown herewith. This whistle 
takes the place of screeching and calling. 
What Is This Woman Doing? 
The whistle is a good signal, but we 
would prefer a little chime of Swiss bells, 
which could be bought for a comparative¬ 
ly low price. They are more musical 
than the loud harsh farm bell, carry far, 
and are easily managed when set up by 
the kitchen door. 
Here is the way Mr. Markley puts it: 
“There is no bawling one’s head off on 
this farm. A 10-cent whistle saves dol¬ 
lars in time—saves the wife from head¬ 
ache from bawling till she in hoarse. 
When the wind is not dead wrong, its 
loud, mellow note can be heard for half 
a mile. It is handy always on a little 
hook by the kitchen door. A sharp blow, 
“Whistle Anu I’ll Come.” 
and the deed is done. No time lost, no 
strain, no fretting, no unpleasantness. If 
mother is busy at the moment, one of the 
children blows the whistle, as you see in 
the picture. In this family where it is 
used, one long blast means ‘eats,’ step 
double-quick; two blasts means someone 
has called to see you ; three blasts calls 
the children at any time mother wants 
them.” 
* 
“7 guess it’s a fact that a pair of 
trousers docs not necessaril g establish a 
prim a facie case of strength of charac¬ 
ter!” 
That is the honest comment of a man 
who was told some of the things which a 
widow on a little farm did to hold her 
family together. Under the conditions 
which this woman faced eight men out 
of 10 would have wilted and given up 
the struggle. This woman became head, 
tail and middle of the family, and took 
up her hard task with no murmur of 
complaint. “Strength of character?” 
There is nothing in all the world equal 
to the courage which a frail and natur¬ 
ally timid woman will show in a struggle 
for her children. If any man should 
make gratitude his religion if is the soil 
of such a woman. 
* 
There was once a hired man—“a big, 
strong fellow capable of doing first-class 
work. The farmer who employed him 
was a good provider—said he believed in 
eating food which “sticks to the ribs,” 
So there was meat three times a day; 
sausage, ham bacon and beef, “all you 
want and more.” The hired man ate 
with the rest of the family. While the 
others ate heartily and kept strong and 
efficient at their outdoor work, the hired 
man was a poor eater, and did not seem 
to have the “snap” and energy which 
his big body should have held. “What’S 
the matter with you?” said the farmer 
“Can’t you eat? If a man will not eat 
he cannot do farm work. What’s 
wrong?” 
“Well,” said the hired man, “I have 
never eaten so much meat before. Try 
me on rice or something like that.” 
They did, and it worked wonders. On 
simpler food which suited him the man 
held his strength and regained his energy. 
On experiment it was found that there 
were three groups of people at that one 
table, each doing their best work on cer¬ 
tain definite kinds of food. Even in this 
well-regulated family a single standard 
of diet did not suit all. Many a farmer 
will say this is a fairy tale and that 
there never was such a hired man—yet 
we have seen just such a character. The 
chief lesson is for those farmers who 
think their cows will all do their best 
on a single standard ration. The fact is 
that in every dairy herd there are dainty 
cows which prefer certain feeds, and 
will pay a large premium when their 
tastes are consulted. 
The cover page of the February 28 
issue reminded me so much of ray dear 
old mother. It is almost a perfect like¬ 
ness, and she was such a great lover of 
flowers. E. T. FLANAGAN. 
Illinois. 
We have had several letters stating 
that this picture reminded the writers of 
some dear old friend. Some weeks ago 
we printed the picture of an elderly man 
helping his wife at household work. This 
paper was hardly distributed before a 
young woman wrote saying that this 
was an excellent likeness of her dead 
father. They had no picture of him 
which was nearly as good as this ran¬ 
dom photograph. We were able to help 
her obtain a better one. Our effort is 
to avoid what may be called “fancy 
pictures” and print the homely and true 
scenes which are true to life. It lias 
long been the policy of The It. N.-Y. to 
reflect, as fairly as possible, the life of 
the strong middle class of country peo¬ 
ple. 
* 
Mant of our correspondents from iso¬ 
lated sections of the West and Southwest 
refer to deficient school facilities, and 
the lack of opportunity to acquire cul¬ 
ture of mind or manner. In many cases 
the children who are thus growing up 
with a handicap that must hamper them 
through life belong to good American 
stock. On the other hand, we see here, 
in our great cities, the children of un¬ 
lettered immigrants not only given a 
good common-school education, but in¬ 
structed in arts, sciences and social ac¬ 
complishments. through public or private 
generosity. Every American feels that 
his land of opportunity should offer a 
generous welcome to all who seek its 
shores. Yet when we wonder why young 
America seeks the city, and deserts the 
sweet-smiling furrow for the grimy pave¬ 
ment, is it not possible that educational 
as well as social opportunities form a 
part at least of the lure? Philanthropy 
has showered wealth on collegiate insti¬ 
tutions. while primary and secondary 
schools have struggled on limited public 
funds. We need an awakened public con¬ 
science towards the needs of the common 
schools in rural districts. It is well for 
us to educate the stranger within our 
gates, but there seems a growing need to 
consider, with equal force, the claims of 
those who are of our own household. 
* 
“Tied to the stake!” Every boy has 
read thrilling Indian stories wherein 
some unfortunate victim was securely 
tied to a post with the hot fires blazing 
around him. The boy has thought what 
he would do if some comrade were being 
tortured in this way. How he would 
rush through the crowd, stamp out the 
fire and set the victim free! A noble 
thought surely! Why let it disappear 
like other dreams of action? During the 
hot months of Summer you may find 
mother or the girls tied to the steak in 
the hot, stifling kitchen! The range 
may be defective and old, the fuel poor, 
the kitchen unhandy so that the only 
pleasure about dinner is in the eating of 
it—with mother too hot and tired to 
share. Here may be your chance to make 
“dreams come true” by starting a cam¬ 
paign for a better kitchen. Begin it 
now. 
* 
In the last magazine issue J. M. Drew 
told of a play which is being performed 
by students of the Minnesota Agricul¬ 
tural College. The object of this play 
was to present in dramatic form some 
of the arguments in favor of an agricul¬ 
tural education. There has been a stream 
of letters from people who want such a 
play for performance in their home 
town Several of the colleges have asked 
for it. Why not make use of the stage 
for a clean, impressive argument for 
farming the same as we use lectures or 
moving picture shows? 
* 
The Cooking Stove a Pulpit. 
The blizzard whirled in upon New 
York without warning, and filled the 
streets with great drifts of snow. Peo¬ 
ple who live in the country rather like 
snow in Winter, for it makes good sleigh¬ 
ing, and in almost every case the grass 
and grain are better following the snowy 
Winter. In this great city, however, the 
snow is naturally out of place and be¬ 
fore the blizzard was over, a great army 
of men were put at work carrying the 
snow away. Most of it was thrown into 
carts, which were hauled east and west 
and dumped into the river. In other 
cases, the snow was shoveled into the 
sewers, where it melted and ran off. But 
this blizzard, while a great inconvenience 
to the city, had its good side, for it 
provided labor for thousands of men who 
were out of work. Every Winter when 
times are hard in the smaller towns, 
thousands of these men head for New 
York. It is no place for them, for work 
is scarce. Yet they come here hunting 
for a job, and many of them are partly 
cared for by charitable organizations. 
This snow-shoveling gave them a chance, 
and many of them embraced it. Squads 
of them were found in every street—many 
of them poorly clad and rather ill-fed for 
the work. It is small wonder that some 
of these ill-fed and poorly-clad men fre¬ 
quented the saloons for something to 
warm them up in the face of that bliz¬ 
zard. There were moralists who found 
fault with this, and held these men up 
as terrible examples of what ought not 
to be. There were others who took 
the more sensible view, and what they 
said and wrote, showed that there art' 
practical, warm-hearted people in this 
city as well as in the country. One of 
them for example wrote the following 
note which was printed in a daily paper: 
“As you look out of your window you 
will probably see a bunch of men at work 
shoveling the snow away from your 
street. Watch these men. Some of them 
are not used to the work. Most of them 
have no overcoats. Some have no gloves 
or mittens, yet they are cleaning up the 
city for us. Do not moralize and groan 
if you see one of them coming out of a 
saloon wiping his mouth, but get busy 
on the other side. Take two or three 
loaves of bread. Cut them into thick 
slices, smear on the butter so you can’t 
see the bread. Put a slice of meat be¬ 
tween each two pieces of bread and but¬ 
ter, go out to these men toiling in the 
snow and say, ‘Now sports, we are all 
men and we are all hungry at times. 
Here is my contribution for the good of 
humanity. Go to it.’” 
No more practical advice to reasonable 
men could be given than this. There is 
no use talking, but a good cooking stove 
still remains about the best pulpit on 
earth from which to preach a sermon on 
intemperance. 
