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Iranian. 
A VOICE FROM “FIVE OAKS.” 
BY DORWOOD. 
- Jack Frost was abroad last night, and this morning 
I awoke in Fairy Land. Each tree and shrub glistened 
like silver in the early sunlight, and the brown grass 
wore a mantle of the purest white. But I must not 
loiter, for I am late and the breakfast is to get, so, 
while I busy myself about said meal, the children 
amuse themselves with the frost-pictures upon the 
window-pane, 
and first one 
and vines, the loveliest of all being the German Ivy. 
Every wash-day (which day I try to have come on 
Monday), I put them, pot and all, into the tub, let 
them soak up all the water they wall, while I dig about 
their roots gently with a fork; carefully sprinkle the 
leaves with clean rain-water, having it as near the 
same temperature of the room as I can get it. I then 
place them in the sink until all the water has ceased 
to drip. I find this method much the better way, as 
by so doing I do not have to water them during the 
week, except to sprinkle them ligntly once or twice, 
and they fully repay this scanty care of them by their 
luxuriant growth and fresh, bright beauty, it is such 
_ _ |||___ 
other calls to 
11 mother ” to 
tell them 
about this 
pretty picture, 
or else describe 
them to me 
in their own 
quaint way; 
and many 
t i in e s they 
chide Miss 
Baby (who 
also is inter¬ 
ested in what¬ 
ever is said), 
as she spats 
her chubby 
fist upon some 
of their frost- 
pictures.there¬ 
by causing a 
ruin. 
Challie is 
fond of -wheat 
cakes, so I 
conclude to 
give him a 
pleasant sur- 
prise for 
breakfast. I 
take one pint 
of good, sour 
buttermilk, 
one tea-spoon 
of salt, the 
same of soda, 
one egg, and 
enough flour 
to make a thin 
batter. I then 
beat it well, 
and when the 
griddles are 
hot I drop 
three small cakes upon each griddle. These, eaten 
with butter, honey and a good cup of coffee, “ is a 
breakfast fit for a king at least, that was the compli¬ 
mentary remark Challie made as he arose from the 
table. 
I went down to the spring to get some moss. I 
never saw it so beautiful as now. I gathered my 
basket full of great feathery bunches and found 
some which looked like a star, while an old log gave 
up some of its ornaments to beautify my one small 
south window, where already I have quite a collection 
of beauty in the shape of Geraniums, Verbenas, Boses 
iiSi'j 1 
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The Tea Party. 
a pleasure to me to watch the unfolding of each tiny 
bud and leaflet, and the children welcome each new 
blossom with shouts of delight. 
I do not have much'leisure to devote to my window, 
so I shall put this moss away in layers in the cellar 
and it will keep nicely until I shall have arranged it 
all to suit my fancy. 
“ Saturday night in this farmer’s cot.” The children 
have been bathed, and now in their night-dresses, are 
building cob-houses, anon are playing with the 
pillows—they call them their fat babies—for with a 
, string tied around near one end, and one of their own j 
dresses and aprons on, which they have worn during 
the week, these pillows, by a great stretch of imagina¬ 
tion, look not' unlike a baby. The children enjoy 
Saturday night very much for then I let them have the 
pillows to play with, for the cases have been soiled 
with use through the week. They count the days 
until Saturday. Miss Baby is quite as busy as any of 
them, tearing up the dolls or pulling down cob-houses, 
which rough handling calls forth some remonstrance 
from the older ones; but, as they are immediately sent 
to bed as soon as they begin to disagree, try very good 
naturedly to put baby off in her box and go on with 
their play. 
It may not 
be out of place 
just here to 
speak of “ that 
box.” Oui- 
baby is just 
old enough to 
climb up by 
chairs, table 
and s t o v e, 
crawl around 
underfoot and 
getting into 
mischief every 
moment, and 
witli all our 
care, is in 
danger of get¬ 
ting hurt every 
hour in the 
day when she 
is not asleep; 
so a h a p p y 
thought struck 
me one day. 
I had a box in 
the wood-shed 
about two feet 
long and one 
foot high. I 
scrubbed and 
cleaned it nice¬ 
ly, put a rug 
in the bottom, 
and placed 
Miss Tike-a¬ 
nil; e (as the 
children call 
her), into her 
narrow prison, 
and she is 
warm, com¬ 
fortable and 
happy as she 
sits there play¬ 
ing now with a 
small vial and 
a corn-busker. 
Challie sits here reading. Whenever he comes 
across a choice morsel he shares with me. As for me, 
I am content with my scribbling, and when the little 
ones have said their prayers and are snug in bed, I 
shall read aloud to Challie as he sits back in his chair 
with his feet on a level with his head, or else lies upon 
the lounge with his eyes half closed, watching me as I 
read. 
In the case of a Kansas man being struck by light¬ 
ning the coroner’s jury rendered a verdict: “ He was 
killed by the Lord, but the Lord is all right.” 
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