.Iw. i mum. .

 
 

 

 

DETROIT,.NOV. :Lo, 1888.:

 

 

THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

A M0 THEB'S CARES.

Oh, who can tell a thousand cares a mother only
knows, or

From earliest dawn of morning light till even
irg’s glad repose?

The stitches and the steps she takes there's no"
body can count.

0: number all her busy thoughts, and tell us
the‘r amount;

But this I‘m sure -from morning‘s dawn ti 1
evening‘s silent cl se,

A mother has a thousand cares a mother only
knows.

Just see her little family, suppose it numbers
nine,

Wh ‘, eighteen sec res of times a year, must t reak-
fast, sup and dine;

So often must the snow-white cloth upon the
board be spread,

For self and husband—daughters- four, two sons,
and kitchen maid.

So often must each dish be washed, each fork
and spoon and knife;

Who wonders if the mother fades amid the cares
of life.

I said her little family.—’tis not so very small,

And yet 'tis hers to wash, and bake. and brew
azd mend for all.

She may have help. But who knows not most
modern help removes

No very heavy cares, except “ the fishes and
the loaves"?

So week by week and year by year, to “manage“
her affairs.

She meekly toils to guide the house amid a thou-
sand cares,

She‘s not a moment‘s time to waste, but steady
as the clock,

She knits the boys their winter hose. or darns a
daughter’s frock;

She‘s waiter to a thousand wants and hears a
thousand pleas,

From hungry ones just come from school, or
babe upon her knees;

And not a bruise does one receive, but, oh! she
shares the smart,

With all the deep. warm sympathy that thrills a
mother‘s heart.

’Tis she that rocks the cradled babe with kind
and pati-nt heart;

The earliest at the couch of pain, the latest to
depart;

She toils and toils the livelong day and when
she seeks repose,

Her busy thoughts will scarce allow her weary
lids to close.

Whose cars like hers the whole 1 ight long at~
tends each painful noise,

The croupy breathing of her girls, the cowzhing
of her bays?

Nor will she from the Summer’s heat or winter‘s
coldness shrink,

But rises in the sultry night to give her children
drink;

And when the wintry wild winds howl and urge
the drifting storm,

She‘ll rise and spread an extra quilt to keep the
children warm.

There's none so full of cares as she upon the
wide, wide earth,

And yet a mother is not prized one-half a
mother’s worth.

  

 

Forgive me, then. this fond attempt, fr m
thoughts of other days,

To rear to mothers‘ memories a monument of
praise;

For one yet lives upon the earth for whom my
heart doth swell

With filial gratitude and love as words can never
tell.

That one is she who gave me birth, who, ‘mid a
thousand cares.

Poured out, and still pours out, for it e a mother‘s

yearning prayers.
—-F. P. Dyer.
———-—ow——

AN AMERICAN AUTHOR.

 

I wonder if anybody reads Washington
Irving nowdays. His name is placed
among those of our “eminent men of let-
ters,” his writings among our American
classics, the elderly people among as re-
member when a new book by Irving was an
event in the literary world; but, do the
“ young folks” read his “Alhambra,”
his “Sketch Book,” his Knickerbocker’s
History? And if they read them, is it with
the keen pleasure and the appreciation with
which the youth of fifty years ago welcomed
him? I’m sure I don’t know, but Ihave an
idea that the more rapid movement of
modern fiction, the books which “tell
stories,” are in more favor with the rising
generation than the deliciously subtle
humor, the pathos, the genial wit and sim-
plicity of this friend and contemporary of
Scott and Southey, Sidney Smith and Tom
Moore.

What pleasures they miss, these young
people, who gallop through books at the
rate of one every day, vote Tue Duchess
and George Eliot, Rise Nouchette Carey
and Mrs. Whitney alike “perfectly lovely,”
and cannot tell you today what they read
last week! Sometimes I think the abund-
ance of books and their cheapness should be
considered detrimental rather than an ad-
vantage, since so much chaff and cheat
is mingled with the literary grain, and
young people seem to have an unhappy
facility in selecting the former. To read a
book which leaves the impress of its ideas
upon the mind is fatiguing, compared with
the mental effort required to comprehend
one which gives milliners’ and upholsterers’
descriptions instead of thought.

But I started to tell something about
Irving, whose writings were very widely
read, both in this country and in England,
during the first half of the present century.
Born in 1783, youngest of a family often
children, and-Winder the strict‘rule‘of his
father, a Presbyterian clergyman of the
“old school,” brought up to behave every-
thing pleasant was wicked, he early de-
veloped a taste for toning, and excited the

 

envy of his companions by the ease with
which he performed the tasks incident is
that day so dreaded by schoolboys—“ com-
position day.” He was writing for publi-
cation at nineteen, under the pseudonym
of “Jonathan Oidstyle,” and at twenty-one
went to Europe, the voyage being under-
taken for his health. His tastes led him tt
take great interest in whatever was ancient
and legendary; and during this Journey he
collected much material which he after-
ward made available in his writings. His
descriptions of the Alhambra are famous
for the purity and elegance of literary style,
in that seeming simplicity which is the pa:-
fection of art.

At twenty-five he was engaged to be mar--
tied to Miss Matilda Hoffman, whom he
loved with all the ardor of his warm-hearted -
affectionate- nature, but his dream of har-
piness was cut short by the death of :L:
betrothed after a brief illness. His sensi-
tive heart never fully recovered from this
affliction; everything he wrote afterward.
was more tender and touching it! its pathos,
Months ran into years before he could re.
sume his literary work; and so deeply had
his heart been stirred that he remaineif.
faithful to her memory and died unmarried.
If “all the world loves a lover,” surely we
ought to love one so devoted as this, who it
beautifully says, in the “Sketch Bookf’
“ The grave is the ordeal of true affection. It
is there that the divine passion of the sons”
manifests its superiority to the instinctive
impulse of mere animal attachment. The
latter must be continually refreshed and
kept alive by the presence of the object, but.
the love that is seated in the soul can live
in long remembrance. Truly spiritual ai-
fection rises from the tomb, purified from
every sensual desire, and returns, like a
holy flame, to illumine and sanctify the
heart of. the survivor.”

At last he was able to gather the shat-—
tered threads together, and resume his pen,
Soon after, he went to England and as
sociated himself in business at Liverpool
with his brother, but the war of 1812 forced
the firm into bankruptcy. Irving took the
disgrace of this failure deeply to heart—
commercial disasters were not so numerous
or so lightly looked upon then as now—but
it had at least the good result of inducing
him to devote himself toliterature. In 131-3
he returned to America, after seventeen.
years of residence abroad, bought a cottage
anda few acres of land below Tarrytowr.
on the Hudson, a locality made famous by
his “ Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” where he
proposed to spend the remainder of his life».
The place is now called Irvington, in his-


  

 

f2

 

THE HOUSEHOLD.

      

 

 

 

  

“honor, and “Smuyside,” his home, be-
weame the Mecca of his many admirers. He
stock great delight in embellishing the
grounds about “the little stone mansion
szmade up of gable ends and as full of angles
as a cocked hat,” saying: “A pretty
ucountry resort is like a pretty wife; one is
always throwing away money beautifying
it.” The pictures of Sunnyside always
show the magnifitent growth of English
Livy which completely covered one side of
-=the house, and which grew from a slip
ntaken from that on Melrose Abbey and
given Irving by the heroine of Burns’
“““Blue-Eyed Lassie.” And to this quiet
s'etreat he brought his two brothers and
‘his fire nieces, for though he loved quiet,
his affectionate nature demanded com~
-~,;>an'onship.
Like nearly all literary geniuses, he was
subject to “ moods.” Sometimes he wrote
with wonderful rapidity and facility; some-
times his pen was untouched for weeks.
Whatever he forced himself to write was
invariably thrown aside as worthless; he
{must wait for inspiration. He was pecu-
liarly sensitive to praise, not because he
"was vain, but because his finely wrought
“nature required encouragement. He was
quiet and reserved. modest and unassum-
ting, and shrank from all attempts to
""lionize” him. In nine years he earned
about. eighty thousand dollars by his pen.
wquite a fortune in those days, but most of
which he lost by unfortunate inves‘mmts.
and three hundred and fifty thousand
copies of his books were sold in that time.
Yet his “Sketch Book” was “declined
with thanks ’-‘ by the publishers, and issued
thy its author at his own risk.
He had said, “I do not fear death, but
i would like to go down with all sails set.”
And so it was ordered. His health had
'theen gradually breaking, yet no speedy and
was anticipated. Wrile he was thus in a
semi-invalid cordition, an “autograph
fiend” called one day with her autograph
album. His f:iends tried to fight her off by
giving ‘her aloose sheet on which was his
signature, but no, she must have it in her
book, and so he was roused, and, still half
«.asleep, traced his name on the page.

The last day of his life, Nov. 28, 1859,
~was closed by a remarkably beautiful sun-
‘set, as if the day’s decline was associated
'With the close of that goodly life. He had
'watched the evening glow fade out, and a
«little later prepared for rest. While his
miece was arranging his pillows, he gave a
little cry and fell forward, lifeless. “All
«sails were set,” and the shi p had gone down.

The path which leads to his grave in the
little cemetery at Tarrytown is worn deep

by the feet of those who go to visit his last
resting-place, and relic hunters so break
and chip the plain marble slab which marks
1: that frequent renewal is necessary, a prof-
anation which a loving biographer has de-
clared a tribute to the beauty of his
character and the extent of his fame more
enduring than a monument of brass.

It is impossible in the brief limits of a
HOUSEHOLD letter, to give more than the
most cursory review of the life and work of
any writer. But to those who have no

acquaintance with this gifted star in the
galaxy of American authors I would recom-

 

mend a perusal of the “ Sketch Book,” and
“ Dsidrich Knickerbocker's History of New
York ” at least. Of the latter, Charles
Dudley Warner says that for “spontaniety
and freshness it belongs to the springtime
of literature;" and the caricatures of its .9013
dis/mt history so dirpleased the descend-
ents of the first settlers, who now compose
Mr. Winthrop‘s “select four hundred” of
New York's creme de la creme, that to this
day some of them will not admit Washing-
ton Irving's writings into their libraries
In the Sketch Book are to be found many
beautiful thoughts; and by no means least,
the character of “Rip Van Winkle,” which
Joe J eiferson has made immortal by his ad-
mirable personation, is adapted from the
hero of one these sketches. BE ATRIX

-———-¢o¢-——-—

THE FALL HOUSE-CLEANING.

Tell me, ye winged winds, that round my path-
way roar.
Do you not know some quiet spot, where wives
c ean house no more?
Some lone, stquestered, leafy dell, some island
ocean girt
Where 1 fe is not one ceaseless war with cab-
wehs and with dirt;
Where only Nature‘s car‘et spreads beu'ath
the tired feet,
And wretched men are ne‘er compelled its
emerald folds to boa?
The cool lire—23 'anned his heated face
And said “ Beat on 1 there's no such place."
I always feel a sincere sympathy for those
great, splendid specimens of humanity
we call men—when they respond to the
call twice a year to boat carpets. Some-
how the thought comes, when I see them
take their respective “corners,” bend and
bow in the effort to shake evenly, or when
the carpet is suspended from a pole and the
“heaters” are called into operation, that it
is a‘ little beneath their dignity, that they
are not in their proper pl-ce. And I do
not blame them a bit for kicking, once in a
while. We know all about human nature,
it is pretty much the same the world over;
there are lots of things we can do with a
“good grace” and lots that drag. I am
going to say right here that I particularly
dislike the house-cleaning season; some-
times it goes off “shoust like the baper on
the wall” and again it has its drawbacks.
I never like to clean too early, it is best to
wait until the files are gone, then evcry one
is busy about it, and misery likes company.

“ I know by beauty's token

The crimson and the gold,

The wayside aster nestling
It‘s silken purple fold,

The radiance amber colored,
In air and sea and sky,

The dewdrop’s lustre showing
Her frosty lover nigh,

The forest leaves now falling.
Fast thro" the songless air—

I know by all these tokens
House-cieauing‘s everywhere."

 

I usually go through the house in Sep-
tember, sort over the piece baskets and
rummage closets, shelves, boxes and draw-
ers. I found one large box which contained
pieced blocks for several quilts, one or two
not completed. So I set them together and
made comforters of them. It looks foolish
to me, this quilting business, and I wonder
if as much of it is done as years ago.
When I looked at some of these marvelous
creations at the fair, I congratulated myself
on never “hankering” after these flower
bed affairs. Iam afraid my tulips would
turn out cabbages. They certainly are

 

never put to practical use, but shown on

 

festive occasions as specimens of skill and

patience.

The batting I used came in five pound

rolls; I opened it and laid it by the fire, and

in a short *ime it was as light as down; the
heat seems to loosen every fibre and it
makes a much lighter comforter. I cut the

old garments up into carpet rags, I cut
enough for one ball and keep the rest out of
sight. I never can work so fast if there is
too much ahead of me. The halls are
stored away in a bag, the paper rags gotten
ready for the rag man; yes, I know some
women burn up their rags and papers, or
throw them out around the wood pile, but
I don’t do it. 1 will plead guilty to having
a place where broken china and the like is
consigned .1 tell you it has grown
“amazfn’ ” within the past few years—and
as " Pliilander ” cannot be induced to haul
it off and dump it in the creek, it remains,
if not a thing of beauty ’tis mighty con-
venient.

I had not intended to mention Philander’s
name, lshould not if the matter of house
cleaning had not come up; he is there every
time, beating carpets, moving the piano and
so on with his usual serenity of manner,
but when it comes to putting up stoves
and fitting the stove pipe, oh! he is found
wanting in all those attributes which make
a “ perfect man.” “ Tis true, ’tis pity, pity
too. tis true,” he actually uses profane
language at times. You can tell when it’s
coming, there are signs and symptoms, he
puts all his strength on the two pieces of
pipe, and be it remembered he is not one of
those diminuti 7e souls—he tips the beam at
—well, most two hundred —and just as you
would think the blood would burst from his
face, and he thinks it is a fi", off files the
elbow, his good temper and equanimity are
demoralized, and all that extra enthusiasm
is blown off in a few well executed
sentences; but then [overlook it in him,
for I know that there are so many times
that the spirit is willing but the flesh is
weak; and I feel so glad too that I am a
woman, for it is given me to meet all the
disagreeable things in life with composure.
We have a reserve stock of patience that
can be brought out in trying occasions. Yes,
we ought to be thankful for the small favor
of being women, for the still larger favor of
having undisputed sway during house-
cleaning. EVANGELINE.

BATTLE CREEK.

——Q¢.———
PREPARING FOR LIFE’S TWILIGHT.

 

“It is the unexpected that always hap-
pens.” How many calamities I have
averted from me and mine by expecting
them and worrying about them in advance,
I shall never know. But to-day, as I con-
templated the back of my head with the aid
of a hand mirror and decided that the grey
hairs—“dawn of another life” as Long-
fellow called them—were getting so thick
that it was useless to pull them out any
more, it struck me that old age is the one
calamity that expecting will never avert.
Here is the programme which I have laid

out for my own fourscore years, if by rea-

son of strength I live to see them. Almost
any one in our country can, after a life of ‘
industry and reasonable economy, have a

 

roof of their own over their heads, whether

  


THE HOUSEHOLD.

 
   

3

‘1

 

it be high or low, slate or shingle: also
other property that can bring in a suffi :ient
income for the limited wants of two old
people. That being my case I shall not,
after I am past active life, sell, rent, or give
away my home, and live with my children.
One’s children may be loving and dutiful,
glad to do all they can for their parents.
But they may be married, and your daugh-
ter’s husband or your son’s wife will not be
bound to you by the ties of parent and child,
and it is not reasonable to think they should
have the same love for you. You did noth-
ing for them in their helpless infancy and
childhood that they should return loving
care now. Still they may freely give it.
But if Ilived with my 'son I should know
that the work and care of my last sickness
would come far more on my daughter-in-
law than on him, and I shall have enough
to think of in my last hours without that
extra worry on my mind. No, let my old
age be spent if possible by my own fireside.

Are we getting ashamed of economy that
we never tell of our household doings, un-
less we have all that money can buy to
work with? I am S) proud of my latest
economical streak that I must air it. I
made a nice pair of black gloves out of the
least worn parts of an old jersey jacket.
Took an old glove for pattern, which I im-
proved on a little, mtde them small
enough so they were stretched when on my
hands, and they fit nicely.

When we first lived up here in the woods
one afternoon a gentleman, an old friend.
stopped to stay over night. There should
have been cake for the tea-table, but I was
just out of sugar, and only enough butter
for table use, and the nearest grocery fifteen
miles away. But I made cake, using
maple syrup made from our own trees for
sweetening, and because there was no
“shortening” in it, it had to be roll jelly
cake. Just as Iput it in the even it oc-
curred to me that there was no jelly, either.
So I took three tablespoonfuls of vinegar,
some water, some more maple syrup with
nutmeg for flavoring, a little flour to thicken
it, boiled first and spread it on the cake,
rolled it up, and it made the right fini:h for a
meal of venison steak, mashed potatoes,
raised biscuit and a can of our wild berries.
Luckily the gentleman did not take sugar
in coffee, or I should have had to cheered
him with the anecdote about “long and
short sweetening” as I put in the maple

syrup. HULDAII PERKIxs.
Proxnrn.
——-—‘Q.-——_
DIFFERENCES.

“Mrs. A. and Mrs. B.
friends, you know.”

“ Yes, and are. What do you mean?"

“ No, they are at swords’ points now. I
have just come from Mrs. B.’s, and you
should just hear her take on! Why Mrs. A.
must have broken nearly every command-
ment of the decalogue.”

“ I cannot. understand how this can be.
I saw them both last week, out walking to-
gether as friendly as usual.”

“Well, Mrs. A. bad a party to tea and to
spend the evening last Friday (unlucky
day), and for some cause Mrs. B. was not
invited. Saturday, Mrs.- Curious called on
Mrs. B. to ferret out the reason. Getting

were such firm

no satisfaction she gave rein to some of her
imaginings, fired Mrs. B.’s sensitive heart,
already sore over the supposed slight, and
in consequence she indulged in a few
phrases that needed only Mrs. Curious’
deft treatment and rehearsal to Mrs. A.,
whom she lost no time in interviewing, to
fix as pretty a quarrel as a neighborhood
need care to see. True, Mrs. A. declared
she sent an invitation to Mrs. B. by one of
the children, but if Mrs. B. had not known
her long and well enough to come to her for
the explanation, that the child had failed to
H id her at home, but must go to Mrs. C.—
of all women—with such an outburst of
foolish stories, and untruths too, why she
may take it out in lying, she’ll not truckle
to hem” and Mrs. C. is provided with a new
grist to carry to Mrs. B., and to retail, with
variations, to sympathizing friends of either
party.

I wonder if any student of human nature
can fathom the secret spring of the average
human heart, that inclines us to forget the
friendship of a lifetime in the moment we
discover ourselves the victim of a real or
’miginary wrong from our trusted frieu :?
N) matter how mmy proofs of kindly feel—
ing have been shown, no matter how close
the intimacy, it all vanishes like mist be
fore our rising wrath, and our friend of the
moment before stands forth arrayed in a
suit of foibles, faults and vices, none of
which ever before obtruded themselves on
our partial vision.

I once read of a young boy going to his
father, and in an excited manner relating
some unpleasant remarks he had heard of
a near neighbor making concerning himself,
and which hurt his self-love. The father
was wise. Gan'ly restraining the boy, he
bade him recollect how many kindnesses he
had received from the same gentleman, and
try fairly to balance the account. The boy
became calmer, but declared he would never
go to the offender’s house. But good seed
was sown, and although no more was said,
the boy was ready to accept the father’s in-
vitation, given in afew days, to go with
him to the neighbor’s. Said he: “ Yes, I’ll
go, father; I guess after all what he said
was not so far out of the way, or it wouldn’t
have made me so mad. I’ll try to do bet-
ter.” Is it not true that if before resenting
any unpleasant remark we may hear spoken,
we will take a little trouble to examine
closely for possible cause, and then put our-
selves in the other’s place, we might pardon
instead of blaming?

There is a manifest unfairness shown
when conditions are reversed. We do not
at once become charmed with a person that
we have looked on with unfriendly eyes, if
by chance they do us a kindness, or we hear
of their speaking approving words. Sus-
piciously we listen, watching for the motive
that induced such act or word. Cautiously,
carefully, slowly will we be convinced of
any such change, and time and repeated
proofs are necessary t) convince us that the
change is radical and disinterested.

I wonder if any reader of this letter will
take its lesson home, make a personal ap-
plication and not think it hits “ the other
fellow!” If so, mav the work of reforma-
tion commence then and there. It is unjust

 

to one’s friend, and to one’s self as well.

 

Things are not always what they seem, and
moderation in feeling, and friendly seeking
after truth, will often give a very different
color to circumstances. We often like our
friends because we believe them to be what
our fancy makes them; sometimes we like
them in spite of faults, and sometimes for
their faults. It is wise to look for the best
in all we meet, help their weakness, ignore
as far as possible what cannot be mended;
and with a sense of our own weakness and
imperfections, spread wide the mantle of
charity over the defects of our friends, con-
scious of how much we need the like pro-
tection. A. L. L.

ixomsnm.

A UNIQUE WEDDING PRESENT.

 

Once upon a time there lived in this city
two young ladies who entertained a
Damon-and-Pythias friendship for each
other. Their happy companionship was to
bebroken by the marriage of one, whom
we will call Margaret. The other, Beth,
greatly desired to I tier her beloved friend a
gift which should be commensurate with
the loving regard in which she held her.
But alas, she was dependent upon her own
exertions for support and had in addition
the care of an invalid sister; a present cost~
ing much money she could not procure, her
offering must represent the work of her
own hands. She had little time at her dis-
posal, and she could not paint or draw, or
embroider, or pound brass, or decorate
china. But this is how she solved the
riddle:

Shs wrote to all her friends who were
experienced cooks, begging for some of their
best, tested recipes for preparing all dishes
known to housekeepers. And when the re-
turns begin to come in, she classified and
arranged them into departments; then she
ordered at a stationer’s a quantity of
medium thin beveledged cards, the size of
an ordinary 18-mo book, and on these she
wrote out in legible text (she was a beauti-
ful writer) the recipes, one to each page,
assorting them into departments and pre-
paring an index. When the work was com-
pleted—and it consumed at great deal of her
precious leisure—she took them to a job
printing office and had two holes punched
at the left side of the pages, and ran nar-
row ribbous through them. A handsome
crimson silk plush cover was made, lined
with pale pink satin, a couple of white
satin flyleaves were inserted, on one of
which an artist friend daintily inscribed an
appropriate dedication with gold paints,
and the leaves were fastened inside the
cover by passing the ribbons through nar-
row slits in it, crossing them perpendicu-
larly and tying in how knots.

Thus was completed a most unique cook-
book, every recipe in which represented the
experiences of a practical housekeeper. It
also represented much more than the
average wedding gift, which is more fre-
quentiy an aims extorted by custom than
the tribute of love, in that the wishes and
needs of the one for whom the work was un-
dertaken were studied with careful atten-
tion, and many affectionate thoughts went
out to the recipient during the long even-
ings devoted to its preparation. Margaret,

 

who Was to go from the teacher’s desk to

    


 

THE HOUSEHOLD.

 
   

 

 

her own house, where she would reign in-
stead.of “ the girl,” was delighted with the
gift, which promised to be so helpful to her
inexperience, and Beth did not feel the
worth of her tribute lessened by contrast

with the more elaborate and
gifts of other friends.

But Margaret, two years later, speaking
to an acquaintance who was not supposed to
know the story of that cook book, said, in
referring to some of her early experiences
in the culinary department: “Ihave a
very excellent book full of very valuable
recipes. But I found when I came to use
it, that I needed directions how to put
things together quite as much as propor-
tions and ingredients. I dare say an ex-
perienced housekeeper Would not have felt
the lack, but I did, and ascribe many a
failure to not knowing how to do that
M",

Remember this, when you furnish recipes
to your friends or the public. The new
beginner likes to know exactly how to put
things together. 1;.

———-——‘.*———-—
A MAN’S GREATEST TRIAL.

expensive

 

The New York Graphic says: “ If there
is one thing more than another which will
disgust a man it is to see his trousers begin
to ‘ bag’ at the knees. Every man hates to
see this, but to a fastidious man the sight is
almost unbearable. Better have a crumpled
shirt or a shiny coat than ‘ baggy ’ trousers.
A pious observer once remarked: ‘ If men
would only spend one-half the time in say-
ing their prayers that they spent in trying to
take the kink out of their trouser legs,
Heaven would be full of males.’ ”

The Graphic tells how this great mas-
culine sorrow can be avoided. But as no
man would ever have the patience to prac-
tice the directions, but would put the task
of “taking out the kinks,” upon the wife,
it is eminently proper that the instructions
should find a place in the HOUSEHOLD,
where wives may profit by them, although,
as evident, they are addressed to the sex to
which the article of attire belongs:

“ Every night when you remove your
trousers spread them out flat from front to
rear, making the front fold turn on the
first suspender button, and bring the front
and rear crease in each leg together in such
a way that the inner seams in the leg will
lie one over the other. Then, having done
this, make another fold just at the knee,
and throw both legs back so that the bot-
tom of the legs almost touch the waistband
just below the buttons. Then lay the

trousers away. and, if possible, place an-
other pair upon them, or better still, a
clean-surfaced board. Change as often as
you can if you have several pairs, for
trousers worn every day must get out of
shape. This is a sure cure for ‘ bagging.’ ”

———§.¢——-——-

BY an error in “making up” last week’s
HOUSEHOLD, a bit of “ Hints for the Holi-
days” was interpolated in El See’s article
on “The Vinegar Barrel.” The five lines
at the bottom of the third column on the
' second page, should be inserted after the
twelfth line of the third paragraph of
“Hints for the Holidays;” with these five
lines abstracted El See‘s article reads cor-
rectly. Election is over; the smoke of the

battle is cleared away. and the mistake will

netberepeated.

 

I

THE USES OF GLYCERINE.

 

J. S. Charles, D. D. S., in the Scientific
American, says:

" Few people realize the importance or the
uses of pure commercial glycerine, and how
it can be used and made available for pur-
poses where no substitute is found that will
take its place. As a dressing for ladies’
shoes nothing equals it, making the leather
soft and pliable without soiling the garments
in contact. Where the feet sweat, burnt
alum and glycerine—one part of the former
to two of the latter-rubbed on the feet at
night andalight or open sock worn, the
feet washed in the morning with tepid
water, will keep them during the day free
from odor, so disagreeable to those persons
who are sufferers.

“For bunions and come Cannabis in-
dicus and glycerine, equal parts, painted on
the bunion or corn and bound around with
Canton flannel, adding a few drops of the
liqiid to the flannel where it comes in con-
tact with the aifected parts, will soon re—
store to health.

“As a face lotion, oatmeal made in a
paste with glycerine two parts, water one
part, and applied to the face at night, with
a mask worn over, will give in a short time,
if faithfully pursued, a youthful appearance
to the skin.

“ As a dressing in the bath, two quarts of
water with two ouncesof glycerine, scented
with rose, will impart a final freshness
and delicacy to the skin.

“In severe paroxysms in coughing, either
in coughs, colds, or consumptives, one or
two tablespoonfuls of pure glycerine in
pure rye whisky or hot rich cream will
afiord almost immediate relief; and to the
consumptive a panacea is found by daily
use of glycerine internally, with the pro-
portion of one part of powdered willow
charcoal and two parts of pure glycerine.

“For diseased and inflamed gums, two
parts of golden seal, one part of powdered
burnt alum, and two parts of glycerine,
made in a paste and rubbed on the gums
and around the teeth at night, strengthens
and restores the gums to health, provided
no tartar is present to cause the disease,
which must be removed first before apply-
ing.”

-———...——_

NOTES FROM CORRESPONDENTs.

BEss says: “Thanks for information
received. 1 would like to ask M. E. H. if
the members of the Literary Society are
farmers’ wives and daughters, and what are
the duties of the president.”

 

“Ron's WIFE" asks: “Will not some
of the mothers who have young children
attending school, tell us what to prepare
for healthy, palatable lunches. I find it
very hard to secure the variety the children
like without too much of the pie, cake and
pickle element, and would be glad to know
what other mothers fill lunch baskets with,
to satisfy the demands of three growing,
healthy youngsters who seem to have been
born hungry.”

 

“A YOUNG Coax ” puts her plaint before
the HOUSEHOLD family as follows: “ I
should begladifthose ladies who have used

,1

 

 

steam cookers would kindly tell us how
they like them, whether they will do all that
is claimed for them; and particularly
whether the food all ‘tastes alike;’ the
idea being, I suppose, that the steam in
passing from one compartment to another,
conveys the volatile principle of the'vageto
able cooked in one into that occupied by an-
other, thus to a certain extent injuring the

flavor. ’ ’
—-—OOO—-—

IT is said that the cork dust in which
Malaga (California) grapes are packed for
shipment, is just as good for packing our
native grapes as for the imported fruit,
and preserves them equally well. It has no
commercial value here. and is generally
burned or thrown away. It may therefore
be obtained of almost any grocer for the
asking, and good, perfect grapes of any
well keeping sort well packed in it and
kept in a low temperature will be found in
good condition as late as the middle of
January.

.____...__.

Contributed Recipes.

 

CANNED PUMPKIN.—TO can pumpkin sue-
cessfully, peel and cut up as for ordinary
stewing; boil until perfectly soft, then dip
into cans, juice and all, same as fruit. Two
quart cans are best. When wanted for use,
empty into a kettle and stew until dry and
brown, and you have the genuine article,
good as new. Buss.

Bos'rorz BROWN Balsam—Three cups corn-
meal; stir into two cups of boiling sweei'
milk; when cold add one cup molasses, one
cup of wheat flour, one cup sour milk, one
teaspoonful of soda, and one-half teaspoonful
salt; steam three hours.

LIQUlD SAUCE FOR PUDDINGS -—Boil one-

half cup of sugar and one cup of water to-
gether. Add the rind of one-quarter of ’ a
lemon. Moisten one heaping teaspoonful of
corn starch with a little cold water and add.
Cook five minutes, and add one—quarter cup
of fruit juice of any kind preferred.
' LEMON Sauce—Yoke of two eggs and one
cup sugar, beaten till light; add the grated
rind and the juice of one lemon; one—half
cup butter; one tablespoonful cornstarch.
Stir this together and then stir into three
gills of boiling water and cook until it
thickens sufficiently for use.

 

PL.er PUDDING Sauce—Four tablespoon-
fuls of powdered sugar; two tablespoonfuis
of butter; one tablespoonful of flour. Stir to
a cream, add the beaten white of one egg,
well: tin-ed in, then pour in a gill of boiling
water, stirring very fast, and flavor with
lemon or vanilla.

Mrss PARLOA’S CORN CAKE—For this cake
a short handled frying pan is needed. Mix
together one and two-thirds cups of corn-
meal, one-thlrd cup flour, one-quarter cup
sugar, and a teaspoonful of salt. Beat two
eggs till light and add to them one cup sour
milk, and one of sweet milk, in which a email
teaspoonful of soda has been dissolved. Mix
all thoroughly. Have the frying pan very
hot, and after greasing it with two table-
spoonfuls of butter pour the batter into it.
Now pour into the mixture another cup of
sweet milk, but do not stir the cake. Place
frying pan in a hot oven and bake half an
hour.