1562 
‘D* RURAL. NEW-YORKER 
December 20, 192 
WOMAN AND HOME 
From Day to Day 
The Tree of Light 
Peace of the Earth ! I was a forest tree 
And with my brothers whispered on a 
hill; 
We felt the sun, the rippled rain, the 
snow— 
Dark were the nights and far the city’s 
glow, 
But ours the hope of Spring that feared 
no cold 
Watching the drifting stars burn blue 
and old. 
We prayed our winged seeds were rooted 
deep 
Down where the little valley dreamed, 
asleep. 
But always did we know the time would 
come 
Sun in our hearts might find another 
home, 
Pride of our strength to need of men 
might bend; 
Life which had thrilled in youth must 
brave its end. 
Good will to men; I am the “Tree of 
Light,” 
Honored to stand within the city’s place, 
Illumined beauty for an eager throng; 
•Stars I have loved come in my arms to 
lie, 
To raptured eyes I am a gloried sky, 
Each breeze, long cherished, is an angel’s 
voice. 
O Holy Night! Humbly do I rejoice 
Who never dreamed to glint a human 
face, • 
To be a symbol of the gifts of grace. 
The Darkness sways—a little Babe is 
born ! 
And caroling upon the air is sweet, 
Man’s mercy knows the path of shep¬ 
herds’ feet. 
I glow anew! I flash my story far, 
Joy to the world—to every heart a star! 
The dawn is hushed, the Christmas mes¬ 
sage told ; 
Then does no wistful child cry in the 
cold. 
Forests and men live but their growth to 
spend; 
I would flame warmth and light unto my 
end! 
—Edith Livingston Smith, in 
Edison Monthly. 
A Christmas Eve Adventure 
Often during the holidays we look back 
down the years and compare this Christ¬ 
mas with others that have gone before, 
some happier, some full of sorrow, and 
•others just unusual. When I become 
reminiscent there is always one Christ¬ 
inas Eve that stands out in my memory. 
That year we had planned to go to my 
parents’ home, as usual, but a big storm 
had filled the country roads so full of 
snow that we had to give it up. The 
night was clear and cold, and the great 
stars sparkled in the darkness, but the 
wind had blown a gale all day, and there 
was snow, snow, everywhere. As I looked 
out at twilight I thought of a verse from 
an old reader: 
“All day had the snow come down-—all 
day 
As it never came down before, 
And over the hills at sunset lay 
Some two or three feet or more. 
The fence was lost, and the wall of stone. 
The windows blocked and the well-curb 
gone, 
The haystacks had grown to a mountain 
lift, 
And the wood pile looked like a monster 
drift 
As it lay by the farmer’s door.” 
My husband’s helper was away, so he 
had an extra amount of work to do, and 
had left the feeding of the sheep at the 
barn a quarter of a mile down the road 
until after supper. 
When he left the house the little girls 
and I sat down in front of the fire, all 
three of us in the big rocker, for our bed¬ 
time story. The room was warm and 
comfortable, and the firelight shone on 
the pathetic little tree in the corner, 
which was only a scraggly branch broken 
at the last moment from the pine tree be¬ 
hind the house, when we decided the 
storm would keep us at home for Christ¬ 
mas. The decorations were hastily made 
from popcorn and silver paper, but the 
babies thought it charming. As I looked 
at it a great wave of homesickness swept 
over me for my childhood’s home and the 
beautiful tree that had been prepared 
there for me each year since babyhood, 
for the electrically-lighted tree in the park 
of the college town, for the Christmas 
carols sang around that tree, and the 
friendly houses with lighted candles in 
every window. 
But the babies were demanding my at¬ 
tention and I told them again of the Wise 
Men and the first Christmas, of the star 
over Bethlehem, and the baby Jestis in 
the manger and of the custom of placing 
a lighted candle in the window on Christ¬ 
mas Eve to light the Christ Child on His 
way. As we talked I sent up a little 
prayer of thanksgiving for Christmas and 
children, husband and home. The half- 
forgotten phrase, “a hundred candles 
lighted in gladness” came to me, and I 
felt that I wanted to send the symbol of 
my thankfulness shining out over the 
darkness of the lonely night. 
To think was to act, and the little girls 
were immediately interested in the adven¬ 
ture. When we counted the lamps, can¬ 
dles and lanterns we found we did not 
have half enough for all the windows in 
the big old-fashioned farmhouse, but we 
placed a bright and shining kerosene 
lamp in every room on the lower floor, 
the soft glow of our precious “fluid" lamp 
lighting up the mahogany and rosewood 
of the old-fashioned parlor. Upstairs we 
placed glass candlesticks in several bed¬ 
rooms, and grandmother’s beautiful brass 
candlesticks in the big room that was to 
be the girl’s room some day, and in the 
hall the candle in the old tin lantern 
traced fantastic patterns on the spinning 
wheel and reel. 
When we ran back to the living room 
we were cold but happy, thinking we 
were going to surprise Daddy, and that 
even if we did live on a lonely road we 
The Rural Patterns 
In ordering always give number of pattern 
and size desired, sending price with order 
2150 
2150. One - piece 
dress for large wom¬ 
en; panel front and 
back, and long fit¬ 
ted or bell-shaped 
sleeves. Sizes 42, 
44, 40, 48 and 50 in. 
bust. Size 46 re¬ 
quires 5% yds. 40- 
in. material. 20 
cents. 
2145. Tunic over- 
blouse, having ba¬ 
teau neck, set-in 
sleeves and side- 
front closing: for 
ladies and misses. 
Sizes 34, 30, 38, 40, 
42 and 44 id, bust. 
Size 38 requires 3 
yds. 36 to 40-in. 
material. 20 cents. 
2148 
2148. Overblouse, 
with- panel front, 
convertible collar, 
fitted liip-band,. "and 
long sleeve • .with 
turn-back'-’^mff; -for 
ladies and ' misses. 
Sizes 34, 30, 38, 40 
and 42 in. bust. Size 
38 requires 2% yds. 
30-in. material. 20 
cents. 
The Home Dressmaker, Needlework In¬ 
structor and Fashion Book, 15 cents. 
2151 
2151. One - piece 
dress, having rag- 
lan sleeves, set-in 
pockets, and collar 
in either of two 
styles; for ladies 
and misses. Sizes 
34, 36, 38, 40 and 
42 in. bust. Size 38 
requires 4 yds. 40- 
in. material. 20 
cents. 
were letting our light shine. We ar¬ 
ranged the stockings for Santa Claus, 
took a last look at the brave little tree 
and said our prayers together. 
Just as I turned from tucking the chil¬ 
dren in bed I heard someone running 
through the deep snow, the door burst 
open, and my husband shouted breath¬ 
lessly, “The house is on fire,” and dashed 
up the stairs. I followed, thinking the 
curtains must have caught fire from some 
of the candles. We reached the top to¬ 
gether, and when he realized thaf the 
blaze of light he had seen from the sheep 
barn was only some innocent little can¬ 
dles, he sank exhausted in a chair, so ex¬ 
asperated he was speechless, after the first 
quick exclamation. 
As we were firm believers in that key 
to domestic happiness, “Never both get 
angry at the same time,” I saw it was 
certainly my turn to keep calm, and told 
him I was indeed sorry I had been so 
thoughtless and inconsiderate as to do 
anything so unusual without first telling 
him about it. I tried to make him under¬ 
stand why I did it, but to this day he 
has never been able to comprehend why 
any woman should turn a lonely farm¬ 
house into a blaze of glory when there 
was no one passing by to see, and though 
he said he forgave me, I knew he would 
never be able to think of the incident 
without feeling vexed, and as I watched 
his lantern as he toiled through the deep 
snow to the barn to finish his task of 
feeding the sheep, I could not find it in 
my heart to blame him. homemaker. 
Tennessee Notes 
A cheery fire is surely agreeable. A bit 
of flying snow for over three days, yet it 
scurries away, leaving a biting cold be¬ 
hind. Last night our good pastor’s home 
was burned down and all the contents, 
and the bit of insurance unpaid. At such 
times one surely longs for a deep, well- 
filled purse, but such is life, and defective 
flues and board roofs well covered with 
moss are never safe. Yet that is no com¬ 
fort to us when we are set out in the bit¬ 
ing cold, homeless, bedless, eatlessj and 
clothesless. We shall have to get. busy; 
a quilt here, a pillow there, a blanket 
from somewhere else, each one .a few jars 
of fruit or whatever they Can spare with 
a free heart Taftd God’s blessfhg will help 
some. 
Christmas wiir soon be here, and look¬ 
ing in the- globing coals ihetbinks I see 
these otker Christmases passing by ; some 
of my own so, well remembered.' some¬ 
times only a stick of candy and an empty 
box, and on eJriever-to-be-forgotten Christ¬ 
mas when Santa never came—oh, the 
pity of a CTu-istniasless Christmas to 
childhood ! It is because I can yet feel 
the bitter pa tigs ,of disappointment of that 
Christmas morning I try. so har'd to fill 
the empty stockings, and 'am so truly 
grateful to my good Father for any bit of 
cheer He sends to others through me. 
Our own children have’ all outgrown 
Santa except one, but the grandchildren 
and Sunday ^school little folks keep one 
in trim, and in a bit of a strain,-too. It 
hardly seems 'possible that 31 years have 
passed since the first wee stocking was 
hung up in our little rented log cabin. 
Since them seven pairs have passed in 
rotation, with always the addition of a 
few more pairs. One Christmas it was 
two little motherless waifs, and I cannot 
forget the bit of selfishness displayed by 
one of my own because the gifts seemed a 
bit the best in their guests’ stocking. The 
question, would they rather liaye a little 
more and no mother, soon caused the 
cloud to pass away. Sometimes we older 
ones look a bit envious at another’s seem¬ 
ingly good gifts, but would we always be 
willing to exchange places? No, not 
often, for while sometimes, our own bur¬ 
dens are hard to bear, others are just as 
heavy laden. Life is neither all joy nor 
all sadness to any of us; it’s the lulls 
and valleys, the clouds and sunshine, that 
prove our worth. God knows we could 
not stand a surfeit of either, so He deals 
out life with.a wise, judicious hand. 
Our plans for Christmas are very un¬ 
certain. No market for the turkeys yet, 
no weather for grading tobacco, means— 
well, it means a bit of a lank Christmas 
unless things pick up a bit. Not yet sure 
if the two absent lads,will get home for 
Christmas or not. It is only three weeks 
away, and a rug' just compelled to be 
hooked. Not very many presents made 
yet; one so misses their own eyes. Not 
even glasses make it an easy, matter for 
me to connect a- needle and thread. And 
quite a few gifts I had planned for Christ¬ 
mas were needed for school wear, so they 
ate already in use. 
In the gift chest are some books, two 
. dolls, a few toys, ball material, handker¬ 
chief- material, and well —— that’s about 
the.limit; homemade candy will help out, 
and some homemade articles*''I have in 
view. To one and all I send Christmas 
greetings. T2 ' " mrs. n. n. p. 
More About Canned Meat 
I have had very good luck in canning 
chicken; beef, and pork. My first attempt 
was with chicken. Dress clean and singe 
thoroughly, cut all meat from bones, and 
pack in sterilized quart jars. Add one 
teaspoon of salt and fill with cold water. 
Process three hours after it begins to boil 
hard. If very young they would not 
need to boil as long. Plane the bones in 
a kettle and nearly cover with water and 
boil until the meat will drop from the 
bones; remove all bones and can stock. 
Add one teaspoon of salt to quart jar and 
process three-quarters of ,.n hour. This 
can be used in many different ways. I 
shall try canning roast chicken when I 
can again. 
i The beef I packed in the sterilized 
quayt jars raw ; add one teaspoon of salt, 
fill with cold water and process four hours 
from the time it begins to boil hard. A 
quart jar will ho.ld 2 lbs. of raw beef, cut 
to convenient size to get into the jar. 
The bones are used for stock, the same 
qs the chicken bones. Three years ago I 
canned f>0 quart jars, and have never lost 
a can of it, and we cannot see but what 
.it is just as good as the first year it was 
canned. Winter before last I canned 
five quarts of roast pork. If it kept well, 
that was enough to try. and if not, it was 
certainly enough to lose; but it kept well 
all right, and has been very nice. Last 
Winter I canned 17. jars, as follows: 
Wipe and sprinkle with salt (no flour) 
and roast thoroughly ; remove from pan. 
add water to the juice if there is not 
enough to fill what jars it will take fo 
the meat, and set this aside to cool. Whei 
cold remove fat. as fat enough will conn 
in the jars while processing. Cut. u; 
meat suitable to go in jars, add the water 
in which it was roasted, and a little salt 
if it needs it, and process 45 minutes 
after it boils hard. I use all spring-top 
jars, and fix them the same as for all 
fruits and vegetables. My kettle is a 
common white enamel that holds five jars 
at a time, enough to fill up the forenoon 
and not have to work all day at it. 
Can anyone tell me whether I can get 
a straight jar without any shoulder on 
them? I think I have read about them 
for canning corn on the cob. I think 
they would be nice for canning sausage, 
scrapple and such things that we would 
have to dig out of the jar with a spoon. 
York Co., Me. farmer’s wife. 
Bits of Experience 
If you have new underwear or men’s 
white shirts with those fancy little trade¬ 
marks in red on them, rip them off, ere 
they ruin the garments they are on, and 
others in the washing machine, as mine 
did. My experience is that color that 
runs like that will wash in, but won’t 
wash out. Wonderful, isn’t it? 
This is the time of year more than any 
other when one longs for money, with 
holidays near at hand, magazines to re¬ 
new and numerous other calls. I plan to 
-sell, my eggs and use cream in cooking, 
as it.will whip nicely now, and many ap¬ 
petizing desserts can be made without 
eggs, 
.Shortcakes with canned berries, or 
dried apple with whipped cream, steamed 
Indian puddings, boiled rice and jellies, 
are among some of the desserts, and my 
pumpkin pie is called the best ever tasted, 
and I never use an egg. Two heaping 
tablespoons of pumpkin, one heaping 
tablespoon cornstarch, three-fourths cup 
sugar, one-half,. tegspoOn ginger, one tea¬ 
spoon salt, one teaspoon cinnamon, one 
and one-half cups milk. 
Drop Cakes (nice for children’s lunch). 
—-One-half cup white sugar, one cup 
brown sugar, one-half cup sour milk, one 
cup sour cream, one teaspoon soda, salt, 
cinnamon, a few nut meats and raisins 
cut in two. flour to stir rather thick. 
Drop on buttered tin. rosixa. 
Old-fashioned Mincemeat 
Here is something that is really like 
the old-fashioned mincemeat that mother 
used to prepare in the Fall and put away 
in jars for filling pies in the Winter. I 
have changed the recipe just enough to 
make a decided improvement in tile 
flavor. Green tomatoes can be had late, 
and there are plenty of apples in every 
store and at nearly every country home. 
Spitzenbergs are fine for this mincemeat, 
but arty good cooking apple will do. The 
mincemeat can be used for pies of the 
large or individual type. It keeps well 
arid is a little more mild in flavor and 
less heavy than that 1 obtained in the 
shops. For this mincemeat 1 use three 
pints of apples chopped fine, three pints 
of green tomatoes cut fine, five cups 
brown sugar, Ike cups vinegar, three 
cups raisins, two teaspoons salt, three 
teaspoons cinnamon, one teaspoon cloves, 
% cup butter and one teaspooii allspice, 
mace and pepper, mixed. After chop¬ 
ping apples and tomatoes very fine, meas¬ 
ure and then mix arid allow to stand for 
a short time. Drain off . any fluid that 
may have collected, add the remaining 
ingredients, except the butter, and bring 
it all gradually to the boiling point and 
allow to simmer for three hours. After 
the mincemeat has boiled slowly for three 
hours, add the butter and seal in glass 
jars. One must be careful to stir the 
mixture often so that it does not stick to 
bottom of kettle and scorch. This mince¬ 
meat is much like that which our grand¬ 
mothers used to make. It has a deep, 
rich flavor, brought out by the long cook¬ 
ing. If you want something really good 
for pie in Winter, try this mincemeat 
If your family is large, put the mince¬ 
meat in quart jars, but if small, pint jars 
would be best. j. w. R. 
Fringed Mittens 
For men’s size, use medium-sized 
steel knitting needles, IS stitches on two, 
and 20 on the third one; knit two, purl 
two and three times round. 
Measure six yards yard lengths of 
yarn, three of each color that you will 
use for the mitten. Knit one stitch, put 
one end of yarn in, knit one stitch, pull 
yarn around to outside of knitting, make 
loop one inch long, repeat until you have 
knit once around the cuff. 
Again knit two, purl two, next row, 
repeat fringe, until you have two or three 
inches, whichever you prefer. Navy blue 
and white, red and black, are favorite 
colors. For a perfectly double mitten, 
after the fringed cuff is knit, join the 
colors you have chosen for the cuff. Knit 
one stitch of one color, then one of the 
other, always holding the one you desire 
to be more prominent, up. In so doin'- 
you have a double, durable mitten, and 
one that will be much admired. In tak¬ 
ing off the tip of thumb and hand, care¬ 
fully keep the upper color in place. 
When all is done take a small pair of 
sharp scissors and cut the loops in the 
middle. The yarn will open up and be 
be very pretty and fluffy. 
MRS. o. M. <; 
