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JENNIE. 
BY HELEN A. RAINS. 
Oh! shall I not, Jennie, 
Be one of the many, 
To render thee homage wherever thou art; 
Not wilfully, blindly, 
But carefully, kindly, 
The purest, and truest that wells in the heart 
Tho’ others may bless thee, 
And often caress thee. 
With words of endearment more precious to thee, 
From all I can offer, 
From Love’s brimming coffer, 
Be pleased to acknowledge a tribute from me. 
Then shall I not, Jennie, 
Be one of the many. 
To join in thy converse, and bask in thy smile, 
Till Friendships shall wither. 
And we have gone hither. 
To dwell in the light of Eternity’s Isle. 
“THE LITTLE ONE IS GONE.” 
BY HELEN A. RAINS. 
I watch to see a little face. 
Sly peeping thro’ the door. 
And stop to hear a wonted step, 
That comes within no more. 
I wait to catch a laughing tone. 
And watch and wait in vain. 
For undisturbed I may work on, 
’Twill never come again. 
I hear the tread of other feet, 
And other tones of glee, 
And listen for another voice, 
That comes no more to me. 
I sit and mark in silent grief. 
The solemn hours move on; 
Oh! what will give my heart relief, 
The little one is gone. 
HOUSE FURNISHING. 
I promised to tell you something about Mary 
Hatch’s house. I will begin with the spare chamber, 
as I was much pleased with it. To begin, then, at 
the foundation (for I mean to go into details), the 
walls are covered with plain paper—French gray 
in color. At the top of the ceiling was a gilt mould¬ 
ing about two inches wide, to hang pictures from ; 
below this a bordering, gray ground-work, with pink 
roses in long sprays; this was finished with a very 
narrow gilt moulding. The paint was white. The 
panels of the doors and the moulding of the base- 
hoard were tinted to match the paper. Carpet of 
white matting. Chamber-set of white pine, painted 
and varnished to match the paper on the walls. The 
French bedstead had bouquets of roses on the head and 
foot-boards, a scroll-work of gilt aud white outlined 
the _edges; the dressing-case, commode and chairs 
matched. At the windows were plain white shades 
with drab tassels; over these, full curtains of white 
Swiss muslin, open in the centre; at the top of the 
window was a hoard, about an inch in width and 
slightly rounded, from which was fastened a lambre¬ 
quin made of pink cambric, cut in two scollops and 
covered with Swiss muslin, and edged with an imitation 
of G-uipure lace; to finish the top was a box-plaiting, 
made of lengthwise muslin, doubled and plaited in the 
middle, and tacked on with small silver-headed tacks; 
the curtains were looped up with pink ribbon. On the 
dressing-case was a pink ground glass toilet-set; 
mats made of white wash canvas embroidered with 
pink worsted, a pincushion, pattern of gray heads 
filled in with pink floss silk ; on one side of the glass 
hung a hair receiver, made of perforated card-board, 
worked with the same silk ; on the other side, a hair¬ 
pin receiver made of a collar-box filled with wool 
wadding covered with a crotchet cover made of pink 
worsted ; a strip of card-hoard worked with worsted ; 
aud hound on each edge with pink ribbon, was 
fastened around the outside; over the commode was a 
towel rack, a pattern of gray heads, filled in with the 
same fioss silk ; on each side of this was a tiny bracket 
made of whitewood carved, with a little Parian marble 
bust on it. On the mantle-shelf (a marble slab with 
bronze brackets) was a pair of white ground-glass vases 
with a hunch of roses in “ Decalcomanie ” on them — more sweetly when you 
they were filled with pressed ferns ; above them hung 
one oi Prang’s beautiful chromos of flowers, in a white- 
wood frame; each side of the dressing-case were pic¬ 
tures of Prang’s autumn leaves in passe-partout 
frames, with drab mats and finish. The pillow- 
shams were made of white Swiss muslin, with a deep 
hem, and trimmed with the same lace as the lam¬ 
brequins, and lined with pink cambric. The toilet 
quilt was pink aud white, and the cover on the table 
the same. I noticed several handsome hooks on it. 
At one window hung a goblet, minus the bottom ; it 
was filled with Moneywort growing; it was encased 
in a white crochet cover and a tassel on the bottom. 
In one corner was a large comfortable looking chair 
which, on inquiring, I learned was made from an old 
worn-out “ Boston rocker” which came from mother’s 
garret. With the aid of an old quilt, some cotton 
batting and a few tacks, it made a nice chair. It was 
covered with French cretonne, a gray ground with 
garlands of roses. An old hand-box was converted 
into a footstool by cutting a piece from the top to 
make it shallower, aud covering tire same as the chair. 
In one corner was a- pine bracket covered with mosses 
anti lichens; there was a large shell on it filled with 
autumn leaves. A very handsome mat, in front, of 
the bed, was made from a remnant of velvet carpet, 
dred or more beautiful little ballads. Not the kind 
that take a town by storm and die out in one season, 
hut real songs that never grow old, whose, tunes are 
melody and whose words are poetry. You will find 
happiness, when your lover bends over you eager 
to whisper a secret you are ready to hear, that your 
joy and your love, your modesty and your pride blend 
sing “ Annie Laurie ” 
bought for a trifle, with a piece of bordering that 
matched the carpet sewed around; it had a gray 
ground-work, with clusters of roses and buds, and 
made as handsome a mat as one that cost a good deal 
more money. Now, I think I have told you all about 
this charming room, and one great beauty of it is its 
moderate cost; in these days of panic this is quite 
a consideration. Most of the things, beside the furni¬ 
ture and carpet, Mary made herself, or they were 
given her when she was married. 
I forgot, in my last letter, to tell you about the 
funnel to use when you can fruit. I got the tinman 
to make mine. It is just like a common funnel, only 
the tube is the same size all the length of it, and it 
just fits the inside of the mouth of jar and prevents 
all spilling. 
While T think of it, I will tell you of a nice way to 
keep lard in summer. In the spring, when I have 
a lot of empty Mason jars, I fry out my lard, strain 
it into a tin pan, let it stand a little while to cool, 
wring a towel from hot water, lay it folded on the 
table, put the jars on it, dip in the lard carefully, put 
on the rubbers and screw on the caps as soon as you 
can; your lard will keep as long as you want it, and 
have the advantage of being in small quantities. 
M. J. P. 
Learn to Sing Ballads. — A contributor to Home 
and School has some beautiful thoughts about singing. 
He bids every one to cultivate his or her voice, even 
if it is not remarkable for strength or sweetness. A 
woman who cannot sing is as a flower without per¬ 
fume, a butterfly without wings. I do not mean you 
must sing scales and trills by the hour ; those notions 
have left rne long ago. Learn operatic wonders, if 
you like, only he sure to learn them correctly; hut 
they are easily forgotten, rest assured. Learn a hun¬ 
or 
Within a Mile of Edinboro’ Town,” than in execut¬ 
ing the most wonderful gymnastics with your vocal 
organs. In sorrow, some such song, with all the 
sweet memories of the past clinging about its tender 
notes, will call forth tears to ease an aching heart. 
Then there comes to every blessed woman a time 
when a weary little head lies on her bosom, little eye¬ 
lids are drooping, twilight is drawing about her—too 
early for a lamp, too early for any hut little folks to 
sleep ; then it is that all the accomplishments of her 
girlhood are as nothing compared to one simple song 
that lulls a tired baby to sleep. There is something 
soothing to the child in the mother’s voice at any time, 
and it instinctively loves the melody of a song; so, 
girls, while you can, think of the mine of wealth you 
can lay up for the children that will come by and by 
with their smiles and their kisses to brighten the 
way. 
Save a Mother’s Tears. — Not long ago, two 
friends were sitting together, engaged in letter writing. 
One was a young man from India, the other was a 
female friend, part of whose family resides in that far- 
off land. The former was writing to his mother in 
India. When the letter was finished, his friend offered 
to enclose it in hers, to save postage. This he politely 
declined, saying, “ If it he sent separately, it will 
reach her sooner than if sent through a friend ; and 
perhaps it may save her a tear.” His friend was 
touched with his tender regard for his mother’s feel¬ 
ings, and felt with him, that it was worth paying the 
postage to save his mother a tear. 
Peep into an Old EalTs Household. — The 
nicities of ancient Roman luxury doubtless often sur¬ 
passed any of modern times; hut the rule of our 
remote ancestors in their victualling was rather coarse, 
and plenty of it. Qneen Elizabeth being without tea, 
had to content herself with beer and beef; and the 
noblemen of her time certainly hoarded and lodged 
themselves in a fashion more substantial than ele¬ 
gant. The ancient mode of living may he somewhat 
understood by reference to an old hook — precious in 
the sight of antiquarians — the household hook of the 
Earl of Northumberland. It appears that the old earl 
had a large family. It consisted of six hundred and 
sixty-six persons, masters and servants. Fifty was the 
average number of daily guests. There was a precise 
sumptuary code and given out in parcels and by rule. 
From midsummer to Michaelmas fresh meat was 
allowed; for the rest of the year salted provisions 
were alone admissible. Mustard was in great demand. 
One hundred and sixty gallons a year were used at the 
table ; no doubt the character of the fresh and salted 
meat required a potent stimulus to make it go down. 
One bottle and a third of beer was given to each person 
daily. No sheets for the beds were used. The table¬ 
cloths were few ; they were changed but once a month, 
and washing days were rare. Ninety-one dozen candles 
served the family for a year. The family rose at six 
in the morning, dined at ten, and supped at four. The 
earl and his lady had at their breakfast something 
better than the rest —• a quart of beer, a quart, of wine, 
two pieces of salt fish, six red herrings, and a dish of 
sprats. 
