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MARCIA GRAHAM’S HOME. 
One evening last October Frank came home and 
said : “ I’ve good news for you, Nell: I have to start 
for St. Louis to-morrow morning, and shall be gone 
a week.” 
I looked at him rather blankly, I suppose, and was 
just going to say reproachfully, “ 0 Frank !” when 
I saw a twinkle in his eye, and waited for further de¬ 
velopments. For you see we had been married only 
a few months, and though I knew perfectly well that 
his business was liable to call him away at any time, 
he never had been obliged to leave me before. 
“ Perhaps, my dear Mrs. Allan,” he continued, 
“ you are not aware of the fact that the Chicago, 
Alton, and St. Louis Railroad goes through-, and 
that you—” 
“ Can go and see Marcia,” I interrupted, spring¬ 
ing up and clapping my hands in a very school- 
girlish fashion. “ Isn’t that splendid! Why, Frank, 
I’m almost willing to have you go away.” 
That you may understand the sudden change in my 
mental atmosphere, I shall have to tell you that Mar¬ 
cia was one of my very dearest friends. We had 
been schoolmates, had graduated in the same class, 
and then had taught together a year. Soon after 
I went East to study music, and Marcia married 
Ralph Graham. After two years’ absence I came 
home to be married, and the Fates, or something else, 
had kept us from seeing each other till now. 
So, perhaps, you can imagine something of my 
feelings as I stood at her door the next afternoon, 
half trembling lest I should not seem the same to her 
or she to me : and something of her surprise when she 
answered my tap. Her warm welcome assured me 
that I had not lost my place in her heart, and I was 
not long in finding that she was the same bright, 
earnest, loving Marcia of old, with the added grace 
of wife and motherhood. 
. Her home was just like herself, cheery and bright, 
and everywhere showing the mark of refined taste, 
though you could see there was nothing expensive in 
it. Indeed, Marcia assured me that two hundred 
dollars would cover everything they had bought, for 
she had her organ and sewing-machine before she 
married, and her silver were all wedding presents. 
I do not intend giving, a full description of all her 
rooms, and just how they were furnished, but I found 
bO many ideas and hints in the ornamental part that 
I should like to share them with the “ members of 
the Cabinet.” 
One of the first things that attracted my attention 
in her sitting-room was a gray cross, twined with 
autumn leaves, on a bracket over the organ. 
“ Where did you get such a lovely marble cross ?” 
I exclaimed. 
“ Oh!” laughed Marcia, “ I made it. That is only 
spatter-work. I got the idea from the Floral Cabi¬ 
net, and I think myself that it is pretty.” 
For the benefit of those who, like myself, did not 
take the Cabinet last year, I will explain that the 
cross was made of wood an inch square and about 
eighteen inches high, with the arm twelve inches 
long. This was smoothly covered with white paper, 
and then spattered to imitate granite. Leaves were 
clustered around the base, and by the aid of wire 
twined gracefully around the cross. I thought it 
prettier than any wax cross and leaves I had ever 
seen, and certainly it is much easier made. But the 
bracket—the lambrequin to the bracket, I mean— 
was even prettier than the cross. It was made of 
heavy white bristol-board. The design, which was 
Marcia’s own, was cut from paper, then laid over the 
lambrequin, so that only the design was spattered at 
first. Afterward the paper was removed and the rest 
spattered. In this mariner the design was much 
darker than the rest of the lambrequin. 
Marcia’s husband made the shelf. The lambrequin 
was tacked to it; and then a strip of cardboard the 
width of the gimp, and spattered very dark, was past¬ 
ed over the tacks. If any of you should make the 
cross, be sure and make a bracket to match. 
On a small table near b} r was a bound volume of 
“ Cabinets.” The covers were of heavy gray bristol- 
board, spattered with scarlet, leaving the words 
“Ladies’ Floral Cabinet,” and the border of ferns, 
gray. 
The edges were bound with scarlet ribbon and 
the covers tied together with the same. Marcia said 
she used Leamon’s scarlet dye for this (idea No. 2 
from the Cabinet), but thought she should use sepia 
for the next volume. 
“ While we’re talking of spatter-work,” said she, 
“ here’s something else,” and she opened a roll of 
cardboard. 
“ 1 Quo Deus vocat !’ 0 Marcia ! our class 
motto,” I exclaimed. “ How came you ever to think 
of such a thing? I’ve always wanted it in some 
shape or other, but didn’t know how it was to be 
done.” The letters were made of tiny ferns and 
afterward outlined with a brush and India ink, for 
Marcia was a bit of an artist. For ornament she 
used the Hartford Trailing Fern and some fine 
grasses. 
Before I came homo she helped me make the 
motto for myself (only I took the translation, 
“ Whither God Calls”), and I can testify to the im¬ 
mense superiority of a small piece of sieve over the 
old fine-comb method. 
There were several very pretty vases in the room; 
some vines growing in them, others holding ferns, 
leaves, and grasses. Marcia called my attention to 
one, a delicate sea-green, standing in a moss mat, 
and asked how I liked it. 
“ It is very pretty indeed,” I answered; “ but why 
do you ask ?” 
“ Because you might not admire it so much if you 
knew that I made it out of a lamp chimney”; and 
then I noticed for the first time that its shape teas that 
of the scalloped-top chimney. I presume you all know 
the kind I mean. Her method of making it was 
much simpler than any I had ever heard of. On the 
outside she gummed a spray of trailing Arbutus (decal- 
comania) and bands of gilt paper ; and then with a 
rather broad brush painted the inside. She used oil- 
paint—such as comes in tubes—mixing white with 
the green. The vase was set over a wide-moutlied 
bottle, and had a Madeira vine growing in it. She 
had made a white and blue one in the same manner, 
and these were in the bed-rooms. 
She did not have plants in the house, though she is 
passionately fond of them ; for she could not very 
well keep them out of reach of little Robbie, just run¬ 
ning around. But at the windows she had shells with 
Tradescantia growing in water, and the same behind 
the pictures. There was a bouquet of dried grasses, 
the prettiest I ever saw, that I must tell you about. 
A few stalks of feather-grass had been wet and light¬ 
ly sprinkled with flour, then a few more were sprinkled 
with flour mixed with vermilion powder. These 
were arranged lightly in a vase with other dried 
grasses, and you’ve no idea how they brightened the 
bouquet. 
Marcia said she detested colored grass as a general 
thing, and shouldn’t have used the vermilion if she 
had had bright autumn leaves to have given a little 
color to the bouquet. It is worth telling (if every¬ 
body doesn’t already know it) that in order to give a 
light, natural appearance to a bouquet of grasses, 
ferns, or leaves, the vase must be filled with sand. 
In the dining-room was a quaint old secretary that 
had been in the Graham family a great man} - years. 
This Marcia had made into “ a thing of beauty” as 
well as “ Centennial ” interest. In the upper part 
were doors with a great many panes of glass, twice 
as long as wide. Behind each pane she had fastened 
pictures on tinted paper—some of them her own 
water-colors, the rest of them decalcomania — and 
the result was panel-pictures. 
I asked her how she kept her furniture looking so 
bright and fresh. She said that about twice a year 
she used a varnish, made very thin with turpentine, 
so that it would dry quickly, on articles that had been 
varnished. On those that were oiled she rubbed 
with a soft cloth equal parts of linseed oil and tur¬ 
pentine. 
There was a novel rag-bag in the corner of the din¬ 
ing-room, near the sewing-machine. She said she 
had no closet to keep a rag-bag in, except in the bed¬ 
room. So she was of necessity obliged to invent one. 
It was a three-cornered affair, larger at the top than 
bottom, and about three feet high. It was made of 
heavy pasteboard, the front and lid covered with 
brown cambric, and bound with scarlet braid. 
Her paper-holder was very easily made, yet quite 
as pretty as more elaborate ones. She took the cover 
of an old atlas, covered it with brown velvet paper, 
on the front gummed an embossed medallion picture, 
then with a large awl made half a dozen holes in 
the ends of both sides. Through these she faced 
scarlet cord, fastened the same to the back to hang it 
by, and the holder was done. 
I should like to tell you of her dainty bedroom fur¬ 
nishings, and her contrivances for lessening and sav¬ 
ing work, but they will have to wait for another time. 
One thing that made Marcia’s house so pleasant to 
look at was that there was no over-ornamentation. 
It did not look, as I have seen some houses, as if a 
fancy store had been emptied into it. She showed 
me half a dozen pictures and a number of fancy 
articles that she had put away because she had no 
place for them without crowding. Happy are those 
who have the taste and the tact to make their homes 
as refined and attractive as was Marcia’s. 
Mrs. E. P. A. 
Lowell, Lake Co., Ind. 
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