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DETROIT, SEPTEMBER 25, 1887.

 

 

THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

JOYS.

Joys have three stages, Hoping, Having and
Had;

The hands of liape are empty and the heart of
Havingis sad:

For the joy we take in the taking dies, and the
joy we Bad is its ghost,

And which is better. the joy unknown or the
joy we have clasped and lost?

—-Jolm Boyle O‘Reilly.
———._—...—__

AMELIA‘S PRA YER.

 

Wanted !—A man about six feet in height,

Who can split up the kindling and blow out the
light;

Who can wind up the clock and put out the eat,

And sweep off the doorstep and shake the hall
mat:

Who can brush his own clothing, do up his own
shirting.

And be blind to his wife‘s prediliction for flirt-
ins;

In fact the description of man I would find

Is a sort of a seraph and hostler combined.

-——-——<oo————

OVER-SENSITIVE CONSCIENCES.

 

I was much interested in Mrs. Averill’s
paper, “The Farmer’s Wife and her Con-
science,” in the HOUSEHOLD of the 12th
inst. The wife she portrays is the type of
thousands; women who began their mar-
ried lives with bright hopes and ambitions,
and firm resolves not to become domestic
drudges nor

“ Servant to a wooden cradle,

Living in a baby's life,”
but who have been unable to reconcile their
duties with their aspirations. There is
nothing so disheartening and depressing as
the sense of failure to carry out a well-de-
fined, cherished plan; and 'there are few
women who have not, at some time, felt
that the possibilities of their natures have
failed of full development. The lives of
many women, supposed to be free, are in
reality chained in the thralldom of a
thousand petty obligations, customs and
prejudices; the claims upon them typify the
Oriental legend’s idea of concentration—a
company of angels dancing upon a needle’s
point. And always the problem presents
itself, how far the true ideal of life permits
an entire devotion to our own aspirations
gained by ignoring the claims of others
upon us.

But is not the little woman our essayist
depicts, who wants to make herself the em:
bodiment of all feminine virtues, possessed
of a morbid oversensitiveness to the opinions
and criticisms of others, whose lives touch
hers at one point only, who judge her from
that one point of contact, and about whose
judgment, thus necessarily imperfect, she

 

need not be unduly solicitious‘.’ She is not
content to live up to her own standard, to
satisfy her own conscience, but she must
needs try to reach the varying ideals of her
neighbors, and live by their criterion of
what a woman ought to be and do, as de-
cided by and for themselves She wants to
reach the neat woman’s perfection of house-
keeping and the collegiate’s maximum of
intelligence; the society woman’s dainti-
ness of dress, and the accomplishments of
the woman unencumbered by family cares.
Like the faceted diamond, she wants to
shine at all sides and angles, although each
plane requires the skillful polishing of a
specialist. Alas, not she, nor other morta
woman, can do everything.

Is so mueh more demanded of farmers’
wives than of women in other walks of life?
Have not they the same right to decline to
honor social obligations, or those schemes
for charming money from the pockets of
the ungodly which are usually dignified by
the name of “church work,” as the woman
worker in the city, who frankly says her
time is not her own, and that she cannot
assume such responsibilities? What hinders
her, except her own timidity, her fear of
“they say?” Society may ignore her; the
church may forget her; so it happens to the
woman worker in the city, but she need not
be the less happy or useful for that; at least
God does not overlook her. God never
meant women to be like pack-horses,
stumbling along under burdens beyond
their strength; but they lay the cares
on their own shoulders, and bind
them fast with their own hands, and
then murmur because they are heavy-laden.
What women need is in )re rigid moral
backbone, and more of the courage of their
convictions of what is right for them to do.
“ Let not thy soul be troubled that they sax:

He might have done this thing or that a better

Mayhaps§thy way is best, 110w can they know

With thine own eyes. what seemest best to

* * E? e'gis only that thou art

Too eager for apprm a1: and that whatthou do

Shall please all others as it 1) cases thee

Why should she not feel the Professor “a
precious prig” for quoting Latin at a
farmer’s table when good rotund English
would serve his purpose better, instead of
being mortified and abashed? Why should
she compare her own strong, sturdy-limbed
children with the puny offspring of her
neighbor to their disadvantage, when she
knows her own methods are those which
lead to sound minds in sound bodies, while
her neighbor’s hot house processes are un-
wise and pernicious? She ought rather to
feel avirtuous satisfaction in herself and

 

her children. if she loves flowers, why wish
they were onions because a. friend expresses
a preference for that esculent‘.’ thy, in
short, be dissatisfied with what is in har-
mony with her own tastes, because another
prefers something else‘.’ Why be so dis.-
trustful of what right reason and sound
judgment conspire to teach is best for her
and hers, because others. from different
standpoints of needs and inclinations, re-
quire or pief61 other things‘.’ Should not
every woman have character enough to be
independent of what she feels are unjust
criticisms?

The college professor dwells in an at-
mosphere of educational particularity, as
narrow in its own limit as “Mrs. Lap-
ham’s” conversation, which conveys a
fatiguing sense of being excessively domes-
tic. To the neat woman a spot on the paint
is a more serious matter than a blot on the
soul. To the utilitarian, blossoms are an
uncalled for preliminary to future veget-
ables. Each declares his own way of think‘
ing the best and most sensible, and calls
his neighbor uncultivated or foolish or
sentimental for thinking otherwise. If the
woman, in farm home or city one. knows
in her heart she is doing the best she can in
the place it is ordered she shall fill, her con-
science ought not to reproach her unless it
has been educated to morbid sensitiveness.

“ No more than this she asketh of just praise.
So u 1ll1ncr she to do her best always.‘

BE ATRIX.

OUR HAPPIEST TIME.

The pan of golden peaches upon my lap
keeps my fingers busy, but as I skim over
their furry surface my thoughts wander
about among our Houssiro L1) writers, and
what the different ones have lately said re-
garding their happiest moments. Then my
mind goes back in search of mine~—begin~
ing this side .of childhood. Oh, what a re-
gret it is to have no happy childhood to re-
member, to feel that something or some-
body robbed life’s morning of its dewy
freshness, and made you always 0le But
then I see a lovely autumn day, when for
hours I wandered by the side of a lake:
found fossils and shells among the pebbles
continually washed by its waves, while
these waves joined their soft tones with
the breeze, and told me wonderful stories
of Nature and her secrets. Then again, I
sit alone upon the foothills of a mountain,
and wearied with my climbing, yield my
senses to the enjoyment of the beauty
about; scenes I had hungered for for years.
The valley and village below: way up on
one side a snowcapped peak; in another

 


 

2 THE. HOUSEHOLD.

 

direction a storm beating its fury upon a
rugged mountain top. The beauty was like
a cup of cool water to athirsty soul, and
‘ the remembrance of the hour will never
fail to rouse athrill of ecstacy, so long as
reason lasts.

Then come those October afternoons,
when by the side of a beloved sister, I sat
upon the sandy dunes and watched, in
dreamy silence, sails appear and disappear
in the distant blending of wave and sky.
The majestic steamer puffing past with her
load of human freight; the soughing of the
wind through the pines near; and above all,
the feeling of perfect companionship. We
were so happy that there was no need of
words.

Then my thoughts slip along to hours too
sacred for description, to hours of love and
days of perfect joy, some, like that of
motherhood, born of intense agony. On,
and on, slowly; as the fruit grows lower; to
my present years, when, like Evangeline
I often rock my babes to sleep with the
thought that after all, life gives no joy so
deep and sweet, no peace, no content like
this.

And so I reason that that hour which
upon the wings of its intense pleasure, lifts
us above the fret and care of life, into an
atmosphere of purity of thought, peace of
heart and high purpose, drops naturally in-
to the niche in memory which holds, per-
haps, many different dates, each labeled
“ Our happiest time.” A. H. J.

—...._____

POULTRY EXPERIENCES.

 

Bess wants some of the sisterhood to nar-
rate their experiences in the chicken busi-
ness, I suppose with the idea of encourag-
ing some fainting sister to “take heart
again.” I do not know that my adven-
tures would operate in that manner exactly,
yet the lessons of our failures are some.
times profitable. I went into the chicken
business and housekeeping at the same date.
You can keep chickens if you don’t keep
house, but housekeeping seems to require
chickens, especially in the matter of ome-
lets and potpies. 81:: little black hens and
a belligerent rooster to match, of no breed
known to chicken fancieis, composed our
first stock. But I question whether even
standard Plymouth Rocks, “bred to a
feather,” would lay more eggs than did
these greedy, half-wild fowls the first year
in their new home, and they went into
winter quarters increased to a round score,
which were considered worthy of perpetuat-
ing their lineage.

An old ' tumble-down shed was their
“house;” how I begged for a better one!
But there were so many things to buy, so
much fixing up to do, that the chickens
could not be attended to, so eggs, though
fairly numerous through the winter, were
generally frozen before they were found.
The second summer I sold many dozens of
eggs at prices which would have been really
very unremunerative, only you know the
proverb says a hen’s time is of no particular
value. But the 20 dozen I packed in salt
for the winter market, netted me a neat lit-
tle profit above summer prices, which en-
couraged me to persevere.

The third season I decided the little

black hen had outlived her usefulness on

our farm; and as I had often noticed the
fine large fowls on the premises of an ac-
quaintance living several miles away, I
approached her with a proposition to
“change eggs,” telling her I had. often ad-
mired her chickens, and would like to have
some of that kind. Will you believe that
the disobliging thing actually refused to ex-
change with me!- I heard afterward that
she paid $3 for her own “start” in that
breed, and by keeping it pure, made a good
deal of spending money by selling eggs
and fowls at fancy prices. But I thought it
was downright mean in her to refuse such
a slight favor to a neighbor—though to be
sure we were not very well acquainted.
My eggs were just as good as hers to cook
with. But another of my friends gave me a
couple of “sittings,” with which I had
very good luck. But such birds! Their
necks were so long they could look into the
parlor windows, and they seemed to walk
round on stilts. And eat! If you had fed
one of them a bushel of shelled corn it
would have gobbled it all and then tried to
eat the basket. They were recommended
as being excellent fowls for the table; but
the carving process was rather like dissect-
ing'a windmill.

I may as well acknowledge right here
that one great obstacle to my success in
poultry raising was due to a family trait—
obstinacy. Now Socrates (the masculine
head of the family) never ate chicken.
He said once that chickens were filthy
beasts (Socrates occasionally get mixed a
little in the natural sciences), but as he
never refused pork in any form, I was at a
loss to understand his fastidiousness.
Hence, he would kill the chickens after con-
siderable persuasion, but he would not
dress them. I insisted that it was not my
part to do the butchering, that as he never
asked me to dress the swine at the annual
slaughter, he had no business to expect me
to dress fowls, so I would not dress them.
Naturally, chickens were seldom served at
our table; and really I did not mind, for
Socrates would look so disgustedly at a
platter-full of fried chicken that it always
took away my appetite—l think he wanted
a piece dreadfully, and was disgusted with
himself because he was too stubborn to give
up and have some. So of course all
the chicks were sold “on foot” at low
rates, and though Socrates always picked
out the largest and best when the buyer
came, and left the late ones and little fel-
lows to “ grow bigger,” I did not seem to
get rich on the sales. Socrates had a very
disagreeable way of speaking about the
meagerness of the returns, too, which often
hurt my feelings; I have always been sure
if we had had a chicken house with a cupola
on top We should have got higher prices-—
we would have had better fowls in it.

Socrates seemed to have a very unjust
prejudice against hens; in his idea they
were always where they ought not to be,
and never where they ought. He was so
vexed because they ate off a little patch of
freshly sown grain one fall, that he de-
clared he wished there wasn’t a “cussed
hen” on the farm, and threatened to get
down the old musket that belonged to grand-

 

father, and “blow ’em all to blazes,”

 

wherever that may be. I was not afraid
for the chickens—they were wild as hawks,

but I did tremble for Socrates, for the old

musket had a “kick” equal to “ Baby
Anson’s.” Now I prided myself on my
diplomacy, and on managing Socrates very
judiciously. So I told him that I would
consent to the banishment of the hens if he
wouldagree to live for three weeks, without
murmuring, on a diet into which eggs should
not enter. (I wanted to pack a lot of eggs
for winter, and they were pretty scarce.)
He agreed readily, and I drew up a written
agreement (I had known Socrates a long
time) tothe above effect, which he signed
and which I put in a drawer where it would
be handy. Then I put that poor man.
through a course of dieting which did not
agree with him at all, but which he bore
with Spartan-like fortitude for a week, only
forgeting himself once by asking “ why in
thunder” we never had any more doughnuts
for breakfast. Socrates always relished
half a dozen doughnuts with his coffee. But
he never said a word when I remarked “ It
takes eggs to make doughnuts.” No cus-
tard pies, or puddings, no omelets, no
poached eggs on toast, no muffins, no cake
except some cookies which I am afraid I
maliciously made as hard and dry as I
could—none of his favorite dishes made
their appearance till he said, after breakfast
one morning, “ Oh, hang it, ‘ Toodles’,

(Toodles wasa very undignifled name by
which he would sometimes call me) give us.
something to eat and keep your confounded

cacklers. 1 cave; I’ll never say a word if.

they eat up the whole ten acres.” Socrates
was inclined to a conversational style more
noticeable for its forcefulness than for
elegance. And what a custard pie we had
for dessert that day!

,I always read the alluring reports of

profits of poultry raising published in our‘

agricultural papers—with the name of the
breed spelled out in full—very much as I do
Haggard’s novels, merely as amusing
fiction. When you come to encounter the
roup, cholera, lice, and the inherent per-
versity of the averagehen, which makes her
do everything you don’t want her to do and
nothing you do, you find there’s a good
deal of romance somewhere. When some-
body produces a hen that won’t insist on
laying an egg a day when they are worth
eight cents a dozen, and one in two months

when eggs are quoted at thirty cents, I’ll go-

into the business, till then “ excuse me!”
PLYMOU l‘fl ROCK.

_—_—_«._—__.

ERRORS IN JUDGMENT.

Wherein lies the remedy for one whose

perceptive faults are so obtuse, though she
earnestly desires to act for the good of those

around her, that every day her friends are»

made to suffer for her want of judgment?
If it were only once, but its name is legion;
and though it is natural to expect that ex-

perience would be a stern teacher, it does.
not answer in this place. It seems that the-
experience gained in one case, bitter as it is,
will not answer for another.
only lie passive, and not feel that the hap-
piness of those connected (to a certain de-
gree) depended on her, how much easier it
would be to live! But we must go on.
Sisters of the HOUSEHOLD, where shall help
he found? Dor.

If one could '

 

 

 


 

 

 

THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

HAPPINESS.

 

[ Paper read by Mrs. E liott T. Sprague, at the
meeting of the Athens, Calhoun Co., Farmers
Club, Sept. 36.]

"' Its no in titles, nor in ranks;

Its no wealth like Lon ‘on banks,

To purchase peace and rest;

Its no in making muckle gear;

Its no in books. its no in law;

To make us truly blest.

If happiness has not her seat

And center in the breast,

We may be wise or rich, or great,

But never can be blest;

Nae treasures nor p‘easures,
Could make us happy long.

The heart aye's the part aye,
That makes us right or wrong.”

If there is any one trait of character to
which all members of the human family
must plead guilty, it is discontent. Poor
old humanity, whether clad in purple
and fine linen, or beggar’s rags, stalks
around with the same dissatisfied expres—
sion, the same fault-finding tones. No one
seems quite contented with his or her posi-
tion, surroundings or income. Royalty is
always avaricious for more kingdoms over
which to wield the sceptre: the man in
moderate circumstances is envious of his
millionaire neighbor, and the laborer of the
rich land owner. Monopoly and equaliza—
tion are the cries of the day.

If a “contented mind he a continual
feast,” then truly many go unfed in this
land of plenty. No matter how large and
productive the farm, the owner’s eye will
roveto “Jones’ medder” or a timber lot
that would join so nicely, and he talks
economy and saving to his wife till she can
scarcely distinguish the dividing line be—
tween prudence aud stinginess, and tries
desperately to think with him, that perfect
happiness means owning the largest farm
in town. It crops out in infancy, mere babes
crying for each others’ play-things and toys.
What we possess never makes us quite as
happy as we fancy something would that
lies far beyond our reach.

“ The valley seems full of contentment,
4t hich the mountain concen ls from our eves.
But when we have climbed the embankment,
The mystical beauty flies."

The boy standing on the threshold of
manhood, with plenty of money and a rich
father to fall back on in case of emergency,
finds happiness in owning a good stepper
and stylish buggy, with which to spin along
the public thoroughfare, and take no one’s

ust; while to the average young man the
knowledge that his best girl does not like
ice cream or bananas, fills his soul with
wonder and admiration. The railroad
magnate takes comfort in a cruise around
the world in a steam yacht, of which
modern luxury‘he is the happy owner, while
the excongressman finds a trip to Europe a
source of happiness. The society girl
thinks that as many beans as can be counted
conveniently on her ten digits, is the height
of earthly bliss. If invitations in such
numbers as to fill the entire time of one
clerk, and delegations from all parts of the
country pouring in on our President, can
cause happiness, then certainly we must
class Cleveland as the A No. 1 happy man
in the United States. We are largely
creatures of habit. Just as there are worms
which take their color from the leaves they
feed upon, so unconsciously we mold our-
selves after those with whom we are in
daily contact.

There is a strong magnetic affinity in

 

people, which insensibly tends to assimilate
man. Every person has two educations,
one which he receives from others, and one
which he gives himself. Many people in
their inordinate desire to become rich, fall
into the settled habit of being grasping and
avaricious, they hardly realize that they are
branded so by their fellow men. We do
not always know when we have a habit.
Just as lightly and imperceptibly as the
snow falls upon the bare brown earth, flake
by flake, until the huge drift is formed, so
the small events of life, taken singly, may
seem unimportant, but accumulated, .are as
firmly fixed as the rock strata, which in its
several layers, marks a distinct epoch of
time in the earth’s history. We all know
from experience that it is much easier to
form a habit than to uproot it. Have you
ever noticed how the letters cut in the bark
of a tree grow and widen with age? Just
so the little habits, formed in youth, bind us
like cables in later years; we lose our free
activity and individuality, or they become
suspended in habit; our actions become of
the nature of fate, we are powerless to resist.

Principle is but another word for habit.
In like manner happiness may become
habitual. It is just as easy to form the
habit of looking on the bright side, as
on the dark side. I have read somewhere
that it was worth a cool thousand a year to
a man to always look on the bright side
of things, and we all possess the power to
concentrate our thoughts upon objects
which will yield us happiness and improve-
ment rather than their opposites. We can
direct our thoughts into pleasant channels,
rather than brood over things which only
tend to make us morose and disagreeable.
How desirable then to have happy thoughts;
they not only make our pathway bright,
but color the lives of others. Burleigh told
Queen Elizabeth “ to win «hearts and she

had all men’s hearts and purses.”
( Concluded next week.)

__.___...————

NOTES OF TRAVEL.

 

It was my fortune to take a trip on a
crowded excursion boat not long ago, and I
improved the opportunity to study humanity
out upon what A. L. L. calls “a pleasure
exertion.” That it was an “ exertion ” to
a good many of the excursionists was made
evident by the weighty lunch baskets,
whose varied contents suggested a day
spent in baking and general preparation.
“Why,” I reasoned with myself, “do
people bent upon a day of rest and recrea-
tion, tire themselves out getting ready to
enjoy it, and further weary themselves car-
rying as much provision as if they expected
the boat to be wrecked and cast upon a
desert island, with nothing to eat unless
they could rescue their baskets, when a
‘square meal,’ served comfortably, only
costs half a dollar? ” The cost of the pro.
vision prepared and purchased often
amounts to as much as to buy dinners all
round; and the wife must spend a day in
the kitchen getting it ready. One hot
morning in July I saw a party of three,
man, wife, and child of ten or twelve, en
route for one of our river boats, and I really
thought they must have been going into
the woods to starve. The man was strug-
gling with two market baskets and a tin

 

pail, the wife had one big basket, 'one little
one and a bundle, while the small boy bore
a pail, a fruit basket and a hammock. The
man was delivering a very energetic Opin-
ion on the folly of carrying so much bag-
gage, to which the wife listened with a
woman’s accustomed meekness, and the
lad had dropped part of his burden in des-
pair as he tugged viciously at the wide
starched collar round his neck. All were
tired out before they were fairly started,
and would not get half the pleasure out of
the day that they would had they gone, un-
encumbered, with the money that elaborate
lunch cost in their pockets to buy a dinner.
Take my advice; if you go away for rest
and a change make it really a rest, be reck-
less in the matter of expenditure for one
day only, buy your meals, and be blessed
with little or no luggage.

There was a party of ladies on board the
boat, with five children ranging from four
to ten years of age. The boat had hardly
left the dock before the children began to
eat. Apples first, then pears, then a couple
of peaches apiece; then they chewed gum.
Then they began again on fruit, and so they
kept it up all day. No one said a word;
they helped themselves as they pleased.
But if some of those mothers did not have
acase of colic or cholera morbus to look
after within twenty-four hours, then I’m no
judge of the capabilities of the juvenile
stomach. And they will say: “Oh, it al—
ways makes the children sicl: to go on the
boat 1” when it was simply overeating, un-
bridled license in green fruit, that caused
the sickness. How easy it is to lay blame
on irresponsible agencies rather than
shoulder it ourselves! But the children
were not the only offenders. Before we
were ten miles from the city. lunch baskets
were opened and the eating began, and by
eleven o’clock the whole excursion was
steadily and patiently going through its
lunch baskets.

Lunch baskets to right of us,
Lunch baskets to left of us,

Lunch baskets in front of us
Pickles and sandwiches,

cheese, hard boiled eggs, sardines, “ pop,”
bottled beer, cold tea, pie and pretzels, and
the odors thereof rose like incense to a
Saint Soyer. One woman flourished a
turkey’s drumstick as a baton while she
ordered the children to “ stan’ round;” and
another left off berating her minister to
open a pop bottle with ahairpin. I watched
a young girl eat a whole tumbler-ful of beet
pickles; then she finished up with cake and

bananas. “What do people go on excur-
sions for?” “To eat,” came the prompt
reSponse. Next day two-thirds of the ex-

cursionists will have headaches, colds, and
neuralgia, and they’ll lay it all to “the
motion of the boat,” when it was simply the
natural result of eating too much, too many
dainties, and keeping it up all day long.
)Ioral: If you go to a picnic or excursion
and do not wish to be “most sick” for a
week after, either buy a warm dinner, if
practicable, or else eat a moderate lunch of
sandwiches and other plain food, at the
usual hour for dinner, and nothing more
till time for supper. If humanity ever
makes a gourmand of itself it is at picnics
and excursions; it is as if there was no
pleasure in anything but eating.

 


 

4. THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

It was positively disgusting to see the
deck of that boat, so neat and clean when
we came on board, after “the animals be-
gan to feed” as one expressed it. Every-
thing not wanted was thrown on the floor;
the children dropped apple cores and peanut
shells, the women pickle ends and bread
crusts; 1 saw one man throw half a glass of
lemonade, with several slices of lemon in it,
on the deck, and later had the happiness of
seeing his child slip and fall on one of
those same slippery slices. Why people
who are presumably well bred, decently
neat and tidy at home, should be so utterly
regardless of what is decent in public, I
really cannot see. Because boats and rail-
road cars are public conveyances, some
people seem to think they have a right to
be as dirty and disagreeable as they please.
They would not think of throwing waste of
any kind on a neighbor’s sidewalk, or drop-
ping an apple core on his floor, but they
will throw half a greasy sandwich on the
brussels carpet of a steamer’s cabin, or a
buttered biscuit On the deck, for others to
step on or sit down upon, with no com-
punctions of conscience. And my private
opinion of such people is that they have no
more manners or breeding than those four-
footed animals that have long been the type
of disregard for anything but self, and
utter absence of common decency.

DETROIT. I.. C.
—-——‘oo——~——

FROM GRAND TRAVERSE.

 

I wish to ask the question—does the
Ho 'SEHOLD recognize the Grange? I
would like to call the roll and see how
many of the sisterhood are members of the
order; I know of some who are and others
who are not, and to those who wish to read
about it I will give a short account of a very
pleasant Grange meeting which was held at
Old Mission,- September 8th and 9th, it
being the occasion of dedicating the new
Grange hall at that place, also the meeting
of the Grand Traverse County Pomona
Grange. The dedicafory exercises were
public and a large number of people were
present in the afternoon. The exercises
were ably conducted by the State
Lecturer, Jason Woodman, of Paw Paw.
He also delivered an excellent lecture in the
evening, which was well attended and ap-
preciated by all. Why can not more people
see that the Grange is a school, an educator;
a place wherein one may prepare for more
important duties? Brings the young into
the Grange and teach them self-reliance.
Teach them not only the value of dollars
and cents, but also the worth of brains and
the ability to make use of what they possess,
both for their own good and that of others.
Active brains go far toward making good
and successful farmers and farmers’ wives.
The brawn and muscle of a man would
hardly earn him a living. were it not for the
brain with which he guides them.

The last time I wrote I promised to talk
at some future time about the crops which
were raised in this section. I will not men-
tion the dry weather with which crops of
all kinds had to contend. Corn is good;
better, old farmers say, than it has been in
twenty years. Potatoes have suffered
most of anything, but are quite plenty
though small; wheat about an average,

 

never a heavy crop here; hay plenty and of
excellent quality; clover seed good and well
filled. Last but not least by any means, I
will mention the famous Grand Traverse
fruit grown on our beautiful little peninsula.
Fruit of all kinds has been both plentiful
and particularly fine this season. Most of
it has brought good prices in Chicago. We
hope ye Editor will sample it direct from
tree and vine another year. Truly we
ought to feel grateful for our loving Father’s
goodness and for His many benefits. He
has kept our gardens green when in some
sections drouth severe and long prevailed.
But now we must bear in mind that

"' Summer is past: and autumn, hoary .sire.
Leans on the breast of winter to expire.“

How we dread the long cold stormy days
that are to come very soon! Snow piled
high; roads blocked for days at a time. Ah,
well, it will all pass by again, even too
quickly some of us may think; and let us not
forget that

" Here. within our home we hold the priceless
. power
To keep a little world as cheery as we will:
To light the gloom With face of friend or
tlower. .
And all the space with \‘Oiceful music fill.“

And now I will close by discarding my
old nom de plume, Mollie Moonshine, and
henceforth will sign myself

OLD MISSION. MR9. E. O. LADD.

—__...____
AN INQUIRY:

Will Beatrix, or some other member of the
HOL'sEHOLD, please tell me how to wash a
wine colored gingham dress, so as to
brighten it where it has been faded by the
sun? Mus. H. L. F.

[We fear our correspondent has asked us
an impossibility. We have never heard
of any way by which the color of any goods,
faded by sun or by washing, can be renewed,
except that sponging with chloroform is
said to restore the color of sun—faded plush.
This would be too expensive in the case
mentioned, even if it should by any chance

prove effectual] '
——-...-—-———

HOUSEHOLD HINTS.

 

Srnawnnnmns dried in sugar are said
to be an excellent substitute for raisins in
cakes, puddings and mince pies.

 

Corrnnas, being a salt of iron, also ex-
tensively used in dyeing black and making
ink, we think cannot be removed from any
goods stained by it.

men a cloth out of water as hot as you
can comfortably hear your hands in it, fold
it in brown paper and lay it on the hot
stove, and in a few moments it will be
heated as hot as the patient can bear, With—
out the usual pain and scalding of the
hands by the attempt to wring it out ofvery
hot water.

WHEN it is not convenient to take locks
apart in the event of keys being lost, stolen
or missing, when you wish to fit a new key,
take a lighted match or candle and smoke
the new key in the flame, introduce it care-
fully into the keyhole. press it firmly against
the opposing wards of the lock, withdraw
it, and the indentations in the smoked part
of. the key will show you exactly where to
file.

 

A PIIYSICIAX says a good bed is one
made of corn husks, inclosed in a case of
ticking, made like a regular mattress tick.
Over this spread a comfort made very soft
and thick, containing six or eight pounds
of cotton. The husks can be renewed
whenever necessary, and the comfort aired
on the clothes-line every day.

 

KEEP your bread knife sharp, so as not to
waste the bread by crumbling it in cutting.
Do not cut bread, butter, cake. or any thing
else, in fact, with a knife that has been
used to cut cheese, or onions, until it has
been thoroughly purified. The food cut is
sure to partake of the flavor of the stronger
article, to the disgust of those who are to
eat the food thus contaminated.

..__...___

“ELNO,” of Ypsilanti, violates two im-
portant rules to be observed in writing for
publication; she writes on both sides Of her
paper and omits to give her real name. The
compositors would bless her if she would
come again, remedying these omissions, for
her handwriting is most excellent.

____..._______

OCH thanks are tendered to Mrs. E. O.
Ladd, of Old Mission, Grand Traverse Co.,
for two crates of very fine apples and pears
forwarded to the HOUSEHOLD Editor.
Judging from the excellence of these
samples, Grand Traverse is to be assigned a
foremost place among our fruit growing
counties, a position, indeed, which is be«
ing conceded to it as its resources and pos-
sibilities are being developed.

———-——‘o‘————'
Contributed Recipes.

 

GREEN TOMATO PICKLES.-—-Select firm light
green tomatoes cut them in thin slices,without
peeling, and lay them in a weak brine, using
about a cup of salt to a gallon of water. Let
the tomatoes remain in this brine for twenty-
four hours; remove and rinse them in cold
water, put them in a boiler and cover them
with vinegar. Use two quarts of sugar to
every quart of vinegar. Cook the tomatoes
till they are done, but not till they break; it
will take fifteen minutes. Add an ounce Of
cassia buds, an ounce of cinnamon, an ounce
of Whole cloves, an ounce of whole mace and
an ounce of sliced ginger root to every quart
of vinegar. Cook the ginger root in the

_ vinegar with the tomatoes, and add the other

spices just before you remove the pickle from
the fire. B.

 

HERMIT Gama—One cup butter; one and a
half cups sugar: one cup stoned raisins or
currants; three eggs: one teaspoonful soda
dissolved in three tablespoonsfuls sour milk:
one tablespoonful mixed spices; flour to roll.
Roll half an inch thick, cut and bake like
cookies. C. N. H.

JONESVILLE.

 

Tt'RBt)T.—Six pounds of fish, either pickerel
or White fish is the best. Boil, and when
cold pick out all the bones. For the dressing,
take one quart of milk, one bunch of parsley,
(small bunch), a very little onion, a little
salt, boil in the farina kettle. and thicken.
When cold stir in one beaten egg and a little
butter. Butter a baking dish, and put in a
layer of fish, then a layer of sauce, until the
dish is full, having the sauce last: cover with
powdered crackers, and bake half an hour.

CORN Falrrnns.—Onc dozen ears of corn,
grated; two eggs; half cup butter; table-
spoonful salt; a little pepper; two cups sifted
flour; teaspoonful;baking powder; one cup of
milk. Fry in hot lard. Mas. C.

DETROIT.

    

    
      

A

 

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