l^aSies* floral {Satinet ami Pictorial 
tome {boHipamon. 
MY LITTLE WIFE. 
Our table is spread for two, to-night— 
No guests our bounty share; 
The damask cloth is snowy white, 
The service elegant and bright, 
Our china quaint and rare; 
My little wife presides, 
And perfect love abides. 
The bread is sponge, the butter gold, 
The muffins nice and hot. 
What though the winds without blow cold l 
The walls a little world unfold, 
And the storm is soon forgot. 
In the fire-light’s cheerful glow 
Beams a Paradise below. 
A fairer picture who hath seen ? 
Soft lights and shadows blent; 
The central figure of the scene, 
She sits, my wife, my love, my queen— 
Her head a little bent; 
And in her eyes of blue 
I read my bliss anew. 
I watch her as she pours the tea, 
With quiet, gentle grace; 
With fingers deft, and movements free. 
She mixes in the cream for me, 
A bright smile on her face; 
And, as she sends it up, 
I pledge her in my cup. 
Was ever man before so blessed ? 
I secretly reflect. 
The passing thought she must have guessed 
For now dear lips on mine are pressed, 
An arm is round my neck. 
Dear treasure of my life— 
God bless her—little wife. 
— Overland Monthly . 
TRUE TASTE MORE EFFECTIVE THAN 
MONEY. 
Many imagine they must relinquish all hope of grati¬ 
fying their tastes, or the inherent love of the beautiful, 
if they do not rank among the rich. This is an en¬ 
tirely false idea. There are houses upon which thous¬ 
ands of dollars have been expended that would he 
quite intolerable to people of real refinement as a per¬ 
manent residence. The whole arrangement and furni¬ 
ture are so stiff and formal—so heavy and oppressive 
with superfluous ornament, that simple curiosity to 
see what strange vagaries can enter into the heads 
of the rich, and in what absurd manner they study 
to spend their abundant wealth, would seem to be 
the only motive which could tempt a sensible person 
to enter. 
On the other hand we find small, modest cottages 
wliich bear unmistakable evidences of necessity for 
close economy, that have more of real comfort and con¬ 
venience about them than those splendid mansions; 
and at the same time they are gems bearing in every 
part the stamp of true elegance and refinement. They 
are so beautified by the genuine taste and ingenuity 
of the occupants that it is a red pleasure to pass 
from one room to another, or sit quietly and enjoy 
the sweet enchantment—yet money had little to do 
towards securing such attractions. It is the fitness of 
tilings—the harmonious blending of shape and color, 
the adaption of the furniture to the wants of each 
apartment, that make the whole combination so pecu¬ 
liarly delightful. And yet, how and from what was 
all this tasteful furnishing constructed ? 
If some of those persons whose dark and gloomy 
parlors are hung with the costly damask, and their 
furniture carved and upholstered by the most skilful 
and fashionable workmen, should by chance find them¬ 
selves in one of these pleasant homes, they could not 
help being captivated by the spirit of the place, in the i 
absence of style and fashion. The elegant, airy, 
graceful parlors, the rest, the peace and comfort 
which pervade the whole atmosphere, would be 
to them a new experience, and what would be their 
astonishment to learn with how little expense all 
this, which they acknowledge to be so refreshing, has 
been secured. 
No matter if the purse is not very heavy, young 
people, with good health and a fair share of taste and 
ingenuity, have great pleasure in store for themselves 
when they undertake to furnish and beautify a house, 
which is to be their first joint home. There are so 
many small conveniences, so many little contrivances 
that a carpenter never thinks of, because he has never 
had a woman’s work to do, and therefore cannot see 
how important those little things are. A woman 
knows just where an hour’s work, well-considered and 
planned, can be employed to manufacture some con¬ 
venient thing that will save much time and strength, 
and which, however cheaply and roughly made, she 
can in a few spare moments transform into an object 
of real beauty.— Mrs. H. W. Beecher. 
“ BEST ROOMS.” 
I have always wondered what some people have 
best rooms for. It really is a mystery, for they always 
keep them closed and dark—no ray of sunlight ever 
peeps through the curtains or falls upon the carpet or 
pictures. Everything is cold and stiff, and a sort of 
awe-inspiring atmosphere pervades the entire room, 
and you feel involuntarily like raising your hat and 
making a profound bow when you enter. 
A few times a year the apartment is aired, and two 
or three times opened for “grand company.” But 
how uncongenial everything is! One feels just like 
walking on tiptoe; the children are sure to talk in 
whispers, and there is a pervading feeling that the 
carpet is too nice to walk on, the chairs too easy 
to be enjoyed, the pictures too beautiful to be com¬ 
mented upon, the books too handsomely bound to 
look at and read. So you sit bolt upright and talk 
politics and theology until you get as rigid as your 
surroundings. 
N ow, I don’t like such rooms ! I don’t believe in 
having things that are too nice to be used; they always 
make me nervous. If I have a nice dress, I want to 
wear it; if I have a nice pleasant room, I want to en¬ 
joy it when I have leisure, and not when I have a 
room full of company to entertain. 
I always think soft carpets are to walk upon, easy 
chairs to lounge in, beautiful pictures to look at and 
admire, handsome books to read and talk about. 
How I love to throw open the “ best room ” now and 
then and spend a quiet evening there; have a father 
and brother put on their dressing gowns and slippers— 
mother bring her knitting, and sisters their crochet and 
embroidery; have some one read a good entertaining 
story, or a sketch from some favorite author,—then 
play an innocent game of some sort, laugh and talk 
just as much as you please, or sing a pleasant, cheery 
song with the piano for accompaniment. 
Presently father will begin one of his long, thrilling 
stories of his early life in a new country ; mother will 
look complacently around upon the family group and 
think what a happy change time has wrought. How 
bright and happy those' faces are around that hearth¬ 
stone ! Soon the clock gives warning that ’tis an hour 
past bedtime—and where has the time flown? Happy 
good-nights are spoken, and happier hearts think there 
is no place like home, and there isn’t. 
Now, this is what I call enjoyment, and putting our 
“ best room ” to a proper use ; and I am confident that 
if more parents thought so, and would labor to make 
home the happiest place on earth, there would be far 
less of dissipation and crime among our young men 
than there now is. 
There is nothing that sheds such a glow of warmth 
through the soul as the feeling that there is one place 
on earth where we can find rest, and that is home; a 
place where we can enjoy the society of those most 
dear to us, and where all is peace and happiness. 
Parents, open your “best room” occasionally, when 
only your own family is to grace it, and see how much 
comfort you can take, and how great an amount of 
happiness you will afford those over whom you have 
control .—Mellie Willow. 
GIRLS’ OPPORTUNITIES. 
A lady friend suggests that the following remarks, 
forming part of an editorial in the Boston Advertiser , 
are worthy a place in our columns: 
“ The trouble to-day is that girls confound acquisi¬ 
tion of knowledge with education, and pride themselves 
on a certain number of facts which they have stored in 
their memories, and which for a few years they use 
with a showy effect. They think they know a great 
deal more than they do; they peep through the windows 
of science, see a star here and a flower there, trifle a little 
with acids, alkalies and crucibles, and are persuaded, 
that they are astronomers, botanists, and chemists; 
they undervalue all knowledge which they do not 
possess, and are inclined to despise all labor save 
| that of the student. There is no height of learning 
to which girls may not aspire; but they should bo 
taught, most of all, personal dignity, the need and 
beauty of adapting themselves to the life in which they 
! are placed; their studies should, so far as possible, 
have a practical application; they should understand 
' that they cannot know much, at any rate, and should 
learn the graces of intellectual modesty, 
j “ Parents and teachers should be guides as well as 
instructors, and should look to the future lives of then- 
pupils, and not merely to their standing in their class 
or college. The child’s play of sticking flowers thick 
in the earth and calling them a garden, is harmless, 
but many a girl is educated on that principle, and the 
! result is ruinous. The flowers fade, the girl forgets 
her learning; and there is left in one case dry and 
barren waste, in the other, a miserable, incapable 
woman, weak and nervous, whom physicians prescribe 
for, and then, strangely enough, use as a warning to 
other women against study. 
THE WIFE. 
No man ever prospered in the world without the co¬ 
operation of liis wife. If she unites in mutual endeav¬ 
ors, or rewards his labors with an endearing smile, 
with what confidence will he resort to his merchandise 
or his farm, fly over the land, sail upon the seas, meet 
difficulty and encounter danger, if he knows that he is 
not spending his strength in vain, and that his labor 
will be rewarded by the sweets of home Solicitude 
and disappointment enter into the historj of every 
man’s life; and he is but half provided for his voyage 
who finds but an associate for happy hours, while for 
months of darkness and distress no sympathising part¬ 
ner is prepared. 
