834 
Iht  RURAL  NEW-YORKER 
June  9,  1923 
WOMAN  AND  HOME 
From  Day  to  Day 
A  Woman’s  Wish 
Would  I  were  lying  in  a  field  of  clover, 
Of  clover  cool  and  soft,  and  soft  and 
sweet, 
With  dusky  clouds  in  deep  skies  hanging 
over, 
And  scented  silence  at  my  head  and 
feet. 
Just  for  one  hour  to  slip  the  leash  of 
Worry, 
In  eager  haste,  from  Thought’s  impa¬ 
tient  neck, 
And  watch  it  coursing,  in  its  heedless 
hurry, 
Disdaining  Wisdom’s  call  or  Duty’s 
beck  ! 
Ah !  it  were  sweet,  where  clover  clumps 
are  meeting 
And  daisies  hiding,  so  to  hide  and  rest; 
No  sound  except  my  own  heart’s  sturdy 
beating, 
Rocking  itself  to  sleep  within  my 
breast — 
Just  to  lie  there,  filled  with  the  deeper 
breathing 
That  comes  of  listening  to  a 'wild  bird’s 
song ! 
Our  souls  require  at  times  this  full  un¬ 
sheathing — 
All  swords  will  rust  if  scabbard-kept 
too  long. 
And  I  am  tired — so  tired  of  rigid  duty, 
So  tired  of  all  my  tired  hands  find  to 
do  ! 
I  yearn,  I  faint,  for  some  of  life’s  free 
beauty, 
Its  loose  beads  with  no  straight  string 
running  through ! 
Aye,  laugh,  if  laugh  you  will,  at  my  crude 
speech ; 
But  women  sometimes  die  of  such  a 
greed — 
Die  for  the  small  joys  held  beyond  their 
reach, 
And  the  assurance  they  have  all  they 
need  ! 
— xariffa  (Mrs.  Townsend). 
* 
In  a  bulletin  issued  by  the  Post  Office 
Department  there  is  some  very  useful  ad¬ 
vice  on  how  to  address  a  letter : 
“In  many  cases,”  the  Postmaster  Gen¬ 
eral  said,  “the  sender  of  a  letter  puts  on 
all  the  address  that  he  knows.  In  that 
event  the  post  office  service  should  be 
very  willing  to  assist  in  every  way  its 
proper  delivery.  In  this  we  should  take 
pride  in  our  efficiency.  It  often  happens 
that  the  sender  of  mail  may  not  know 
the  number  of  the  street  of  his  addressee, 
hut  does  know  the  street  itself.  He 
should  be  instructed  to  put  on  the  ad¬ 
dress  all  the  identification  he  does  know. 
He  may  know  the  occupation  of  the  ad¬ 
dressee,'  as,  for  instance,  ‘clerk  in  store,’ 
‘machinist,’  ‘barber,’  ‘housemaid,’  etc. 
Adding  this  may  become  a  material  aid.” 
To  this  may  be  added  a  suggestion  that 
every  letter  bear  the  writer’s  full  name 
and  address.  It  is  surprising  how  often 
we  receive  letters  with  no  means  of  iden¬ 
tifying  the  writer,  and  no  opportunity  to 
give  information  requested. 
Some  of  our  readers  write  us  that  they 
would  like  many  more  recipes  on  the 
women’s  pages,  others  express  a  desire 
for  more  about  general  interests  that  give 
them  a  change  from  the  daily  round,  and 
still  others  desire  the  uplift  of  religion, 
science,  art  and  literature.  It  seems 
wise  to  confine  the  pages  set  apart  for 
the  household  to  the  subjects  allied  with 
domestic  economy,  because  we  find  that 
a  majority  of  our  women  readers  look 
over  the  entire  paper,  and  find  interest 
in  those  pages  that  may  seem  more  oc¬ 
cupied  with  men’s  affairs.  The  farm 
woman  is  closer  to  the  interests  of  her 
men  folks  than  the  women  of  any  other 
class.  She  has  an  opportunity  -,to  be  a 
business  partner  and  counsellor,  as  well 
as  the  center  of  the  home.  There  is  no 
sphere  in  life  where  a  broad  education  is 
more  needed  than  in  the  farm  home,  nor 
is  there  any  other  field  in  which  good 
judgment  and  a  strong  moral  sense  will 
give  a  better  return  in  things  that  really 
count.  The  great  tragedy  of  such  a  life 
is,  too  often,  the  lack  of  sufficient  money 
to  gratify  the  natural  desire  for  home 
betterment,  and  those  little  comforts  that 
mean  so  much  to  every  woman." 
A  Kitchen  Comfort 
On  page  753  in  “A  Housekeeper’s 
Notes,”  is  a  splendidly  efficient  kitchen. 
It  is  so  good  to  know  that  so  many  of  us 
are  improving  upon  our  inherited  meth¬ 
ods 
There  is  only  one  thing  that  this 
housekeeper  doesn’t  seem  to  have  in  her 
so  clever  kitchen,  and  that  is  a  high,  four¬ 
legged  stool.  I  know  many  women  who 
pride  themselves  upon  “never  sitting 
down,”  and  are  not  overly  complimentary 
to  one  who  does.  Now  that  is  all  non¬ 
sense  !  When  one  has  countless  calls  on 
one’s  endurance  and  strength  all  day  and 
every  day,  it  is  most  consistent  to  rest 
whenever  one  can.  I  have  a  high,  light 
stool,  with  “domes  of  silence”  on  the 
feet,  which  enables  me  to  move  it  about 
with  a  touch.  I  keep  mine  under  my 
sink,  and  whenever  I  peel  potatoes  or 
prepare  asparagus  or  other  vegetables,  I 
sit !  When  there  are  napkins  and  endless 
handkerchiefs  to  iron,  I  sit.  At  first  I 
couldn’t  (but  illness  made  it  imperative), 
then  I  found  that  half  the  “couldn’t”  was 
“wouldn’t,”  and  half  ashamedness  !  After 
a  while  I  found  that  it  wras  remarkable 
the  number  of  things  I  could  sit  to  do. 
How  our  grandmothers  would  have  re¬ 
sented  the  implication  of  a  stool. 
EDITH  BALDWIN  EMERSON. 
Tufted  Bedspread  in  Spider-web  Pattern 
No  doubt  the  women  folks  will  be  in¬ 
terested  in  the  design  of  a  very  old-fash¬ 
ioned  coverlet  that  a  dear  old  lady  in 
North  Carolina  drew  off  for  me,  and  after 
tufting  the  design  am  sending  it  on  to 
The  R.  N.Y.  to  use  on  our  page. 
The  material  used  is  90-in.  unbleached 
sheeting  and  almost  %  lb.  of  cotton 
thread,  14  double.  Time  required  to 
make,  days  and  weeks,  and  unless  you 
learn  to  use  all  your  spare  time,  months; 
at  least  some  of  my  friends  are  months 
finishing  one.  But  this  one  has  been 
made  (mostly)  by  the  bedside  of  my  fos¬ 
ter  mother,  who  is  an  invalid.  I  go 
every  other  day  to  see  her,  and  talk  and 
work  too,  so  it  is  a  work  of  cheer. 
Last  Thursday  and  Friday  I  spent 
with  her  in  the  hospital  where  she  was 
taking  the  radium  treatment.  I  wonder 
if  we  who  are  able  to  go  about  and  lie 
down  at  night  and  sleep,  ever  really  are 
thankful  enough  or  sympathetic  enough 
with  those  who  cannot?  A  few  hours 
spent  in  one  of  the  abodes  for  the  afflicted 
would  surely  help  us.  MRS.  D.  b.  p. 
Springtime  Again 
“The  swallows  have  come!”  I  hope  I 
shall  never  grow  so  old  but  my  heart¬ 
beats  will  quicken  at  these  words.  It  was 
the  man  of  the  house  who  made  the  an¬ 
nouncement  this  time,  and  Ave  all  went 
out  to  welcome  the  dear  little  traveler. 
There  is  but  one  today,  but  tomorrow 
there  will  be  more,  until  12  or  14  houses 
are  repaired  or  built  new  in  the  barn. 
Our  banner  year  there  were  17  nests. 
Spring  never  seems  to  have  really  arrived 
until  the  swallows  come,  and  tonight — 
just  listen— the  Spring  peepers  are  here; 
it  is  our  first  frog  chorus.  There  was  a 
duet  last  night. 
“A  white  Christmas,  a  green  Easter.” 
was  not  true  this  year.  “March  came  in 
like  a  lamb  and  Avent  out  like  a  lion,” 
instead,  with  a  temperature  March  29  of 
10  degrees  below  zero  and  a  cold  wind 
besides. 
Sugarmakers  usually  hife  their  help 
for  March.  One  man  tapped  his  sugar 
lot  in  February,  but  real  sugaring  did 
not  commence  until  April  10.  The  chil¬ 
dren  have  out  four  buckets,  and  we  never 
had  as  much  sap  every  day  in  each  bucket 
as  in  the  past  10  days  and  the  sugar- 
makers  generally  report  a  good  yield  at 
last.  The  end  is  near,  as  today,  April  21, 
the  thermometer  registered  104  degrees  in 
the  sun.  and  it  was  so  warm  the  cattle 
wanted  to  get  back  into  the  barn. 
There  was  little,  if  any.  frost  in  the 
ground.  Crocus  buds  showed  as  soon  as 
the  snoAV  Avas  off,  and  bloomed  the  second 
day,  and  tulips  and  daffodils  grew  up 
through  the  snow. 
Like  the  rest  of  the  world,  we  all  had 
influenza,  six  out  of  eight  being  in  bed 
at  one  time,  and  in  the  village  scarce 
enough  well  to  care  for  the  sick,  the  doc¬ 
tor  working  all  day  and  far  into  the  night. 
Then  Mayne  was  injured  at  school,  and 
a  serious  operation  performed  at  home. 
Then  after  the  flu  son  was  sick,  and  we 
feared  an  operation  would  be  necessary, 
but  after  three  weeks  in  bed  he  is  nearly 
as  well  as  ever,  but  my  own  feelings  are 
like  the  symptoms  of  the  old  disease.  “I 
eat  well  and  sleep  well,  but  have  no  dis¬ 
position  to  work,”  and  this  is  said,  of 
course,  to  be  incurable.  But  with  great 
thanksgiving  in  our  hearts  we  are  trying 
to  catch  up  with  things. 
Housecleaning  goes  on  slowly,  and  I 
must  quote  again  of  the  “woman  who 
hadn’t  a  knack.”  The  verse  ran  some¬ 
thing  like  this : 
“While  cleaning  the  attic,  the  cellar  got 
musty ; 
While  cleaning  the  pantry,  the  parlor  got 
dusty.” 
Spring  came  so  late  few  have  done 
painting  and  papering,  and  many  are  just 
getting  their  strength  after  influenza.  We 
have  all  been  repeatedly  advised  to  use 
buff  paint  in  the  kitchen,  and,  like  sheep, 
many  followed  the  advice,  until  Jack  de¬ 
clares  “yellow”  fever  was  epidemic,  and 
we  are  going  to  paint  the  living  room  the 
color  we  have  liked  best  there,  a  light, 
cool  green,  with  dark  green  Avindow 
shades  and  white  curtains.  The  paper 
will  be  a  tan  shade  with  a  bit  of  rose 
pink  or  dark  red,  then  in  the  Winter 
cushions  and  rugs  will  add  more  to  these 
colors  to  make  the  room  look  warm  and 
that  can  go  in  the  “lemon  drawer,”  things 
useful  to  someone  else,  but  not  to  the 
owner,  and  by  keeping  eyes  and  ears  open 
one  can  find  a  place  where  they  would  be 
welcome  on  a  birthday  or  for  Christmas. 
One  thing  I  am  preparing  for  next 
Christmas  is  chair  cushions.  Haven’t 
you  ever  received  a  beautiful,  too  dainty 
to  use,  sofa  pilloAv,  when  your  comfort¬ 
able  old  chair  cushion’s  cover  was  dis¬ 
reputable?  So  I  experimented  and  found 
usable  chair  cushions  were  acceptable. 
I  have  pieced  some  of  wool  goods,  sewing 
to  a  lining  for  firmness  and  using  a  pretty 
quilt  block  for  a  pattern,  then  feather- 
stitched  the  outline  of  the  design.  That 
is,  if  a  windmill  pattern,  featherstitch 
around  the  Avindmill,  not  each  seam,  and 
the  star  pattern,  around  the  star.  This 
year  I  am  going  to  make  some  cushions 
of  heavy  cloth  and  applique  some  designs. 
These  will  be  catch-up  Avork  when  neigh¬ 
bors  drop  in.  rainy  days  and  odd  minutes. 
These  days  tempt  me  to  spend  all  the 
time  I  can  out  of  doors;  have  sown  a  tub 
of  California  poppies  today  and  some 
shrimp  pink  poppy,  and  been  inspecting 
to  see  if  the  soil  is  fit  for  sowing  lettuce 
and  radish.  The  artichokes  and  parsnips 
are  fine  this  Spring.  I  fear  I  haven’t 
much  sympathy  for  those  '  who  haven’t 
time  for  a  garden  and  complain  because 
they  haven’t  the  pork  products.  Although 
Ave  live  on  one  of  the  looked-down-upon 
hill  farms,  we  certainly  have  nice  pork 
of  our  raising,  and  an  abundance  of  eggs 
and  chickens.  It.  seems  to  me  eggs  are 
nearly  as  essential  to  children  as  milk, 
and  Avhen  not  produced  at  home  are  not 
usually  as  freely  used.  We  shall  make  an 
effort  to  raise  more  of  our  own  grain,  and 
an  abundance  of  the  vegetables  that  groAV 
well  in  Nev\T  England,  raise  our  own  meat, 
have  our  own  milk  products,  and  make 
the  farm  as  self-supporting  as  possible. 
The  high  freight  rates  have  perhaps  been 
a  blessing  in  disguise,  for  more  corn  is 
raised  in  our  section  each  year  latelv,  so 
My  jolly  boys  now,  here’s  God  speed  the 
plow, 
Long  life  and  success  to  the  farmer !” 
MOTHER  BEE. 
.  Moderation  is  the  silken  string  run¬ 
ning  through  the  pearl  chain  of  all  vir¬ 
tues. — Bishop  Hall. 
Nothing  happens  to  anybody  which  he 
is  not  fitted  by  nature  to  bear. — Marcus 
Aurelius. 
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