DETROIT, JAM. 5, 1889.

 

 

THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

NE W E YER Y MORNING.
Every day is a fresh beginning.
Every mom is the world made new;
Ye who are weary of sorrow and suffering
Here is a beautiful hope for you;
A hope for me and a hope for you.

All the past things are past and over,
The tasks are done and the tears are shed:
Yesterday‘s errors let yesterday cover;
Yesterday's wounds which smarted and bled
Are healed with the healing which night has
shed.

Yesterday now is a part of forever,
Bound up in a sheaf which God holds tight,
With glad days, and sad days, and bad days,
which never
Shall visit us more with their bloom'and their
blight,
Their ful ness of sunshine or sorrowfulnight.
Let them go, since u 6 cannot re-lire them.
Cannot undo, and cannot alone;
God in his mercy, receive, forgive them:
Only the new days are our own,
Today is ours, and today alone.

Here are the skies, all burnished brightly,
Here is the spent earth, all re born;
Here are the tired limbs, springing lightly
To face the sun and to share with the morn
In the chrism of dew and the cool of dawn.
‘1er day is a fresh beginning:
Listen, my soul, to the glad refrain,
And spite of old sorrow and older sinning,
‘ And puzzles forecasted and possible pain.
Take heart with the day and begin again.
. —Susan Uoohdgs.

._.. WM

IN GOTHAM.

One thing you can never avoid in New
York, and that is “folks.” It is astonish-
ing how many folks there are. Perhaps
was becausel was not inclined to hurry
that everybody seemed to me possessed
with the spirit of haste. One must walk
just so fast or the cars would be missed, and
just the same hurry or be left at the ferries.
Through the measure of the day runs the
hurrying undertone, "keep step, keep step.”

It is wonderful to travel for miles through-

walls of houses filled with living souls
thinking, dreaming specks of humanity
crowded into time for a brief day of toil. of
hope and heartache.

“Whither are ye going, pilgrims of adayi”

I wondered as the train swept past the
second story windows. showing men,
women and children bent in the dust and
shadow and strife over their daily tasks,
how much they ever knew of happiness,
beauty, or rést ?

B:oadway is pleasant, although as every.
body known“ is not a broad way, and one
has to throw back his head to read the signs
on the opposite side. I hope I am not
wondering from the truthhi making this

 

statement. if anybody will prove it, I am
willing to “recent.” I was; interested in sev-
eral places on Broadway. Fowler & Wells’
Pnrenoiogical rooms are inviting and con-
tain a great variety ‘of hosts and other
studies of human nature. Yet this science.
founded upon observation. is crude and ma-
tezial in its methods’of reading character as
compared with the finer intuitions} percep-
tion of Psychometry, measuring by the soul.

At the old Trinity church I turned aside
from the thronged thoroughfare and entered
the ancient churchyard where the quiet
sleepers rest in the throbbing heart of the
city. Over them the autumn leaves fill
gently, painted as brilliantly as though they
were to endure forever. I entered the old
church just as a wedding was about to take
place, and there seemed a solemn depth in
the silence before that mystery of heart
touching heart.

There are pleasant memories of the day
I visited the beaches. Sailing out from the
city, the Brooklyn bridge spans the river to
the left, and on the right the great Statue
of Liberty looms up from its island foot-
stool. There were few people at Manhat-
tan beach. the place is beautiful, and here
for the first time I saw the “grand old
ocean.” What is there in a dozen miles of
wave and sparkle to fill the soul with an in-
finity of feeling? Why does the emotion
of beauty and of the immeasurable awe and
thrill? As the surges of deep spirit sweep
over us, uhy are we hushed and humble?
In the mystery of being, are our “spirits
finely touched but to fine issues ?” 'As the
waves roll in at my feet, I feel the Spirit of
that fiaesong, at once sorrowful and beauti-
ful because it touches .he depths of the
antithesis of eternal hopes—opening with
a solemn, stately measure,

" Break, break, break, on thy cold gray stones,
0 real
And I would that my to: gu‘: could utter the

thoughts that rise in me.

Crossing 3 marine railway, Brighton and
Coney Island beach are reached. The mer-

ry children were running about with their .

little pails and shovels playing and tum-
bling in the white sand, every shining grain
finished with a touch of beauty. The bath-
ers were in the sea, rising and falling with
the incoming waves. It was amusing to
watch them as they came in varied costumes
from the hotel and plunged into the water,
but it was funnier to see them come out. I
was willing to feel a little sorry for the la-
dies (when 1 could tell which they were)
as they were obliged to pass before the as-
sembled multitude which must have num-
bered fifty people or more, but as they ap-
peared not to suffer because of the situation

 

 

I ceased to think of bestowing pity and
looked on as curiously and indifferently as
thcugh they had been so many ducked hens.

And Coney Island—“l should smile!”
it was “Vanity Fair,” truly. One could
fancy a string somewhere back of the scene
which somebody had pulled and set the
whole show in motion. The merry-go-
rounds went on and on with only a. change
in the riders, the vendors called out their
usual wares, the people lizcked here and
there, the stream continually growing from
fresh arrivals. There was a huge elephant
some explored by climbing astairway in his
trunk and Jonah like, traversing the interior.
Tnere was every variety in hotels, plays,
entertainments, baths, toys and eatables;
every fashion in shoes, suits, bonnets, ba-
bies and every description of men, women
and children.

Coney Island came near never having
been. It would require no great amount of
term firms. to fill up the little stream run-
ning along one side making it an island.
and whose channel may be dimly seen from
the elevator risingthree hundred feet above
the see. What a tottering treble thing is
man taken out of his natuml environment!
Looking over the world from this swaying
platform which racked responsive to the
winds, the sense of indefinitencss of im-
mensity and t‘ormless space preseel pain-
fully upou me. As the eye toils-vs the
shining curves of the sea and the. outlines,
of the island stretching out int-:5 It rmre'sil-i
ver thread, sighting dimly the cities- lying in
thelitile distance, not fore. l these could a
human life torego that brain-longing, that.
heart thirst to touch something scar us.
Just to pick the sun-kissed flower from the
bosom of the earth, just to hold near to us
a warm human heart touched by fine sympa-
thy, is better than to possess unshared ” all
the kingdoms of the earth.”

Lnsun. “S. 3?. G.”

——-———-—<n.——-——.—

THEIR ANGELS.

The year that has just closed begun much
like all other years. There were the cus-
tomary congratulations, wishes for many
years of happiness and usefulness, the
usual new resolves. The snow melted
from the hillside as in years before; the
streams broke their icy fetters, the birds
returned from their southern pilgrimage,
the leaves covered the brown branches, the
flowers neeped forth, orchards blossomed,
the golden glory of harvest, the coloring of
October, Thanksgiving, the merrymaking
or Christmas. But many who saw the new-
year ushered in never saw it goingout,

 


 

2' THE HOUSEHOLD.

One Closed his eyes to life’s changes just as
the green grass covered the bare brown
earth: it was broken by the spade outlining
the narrow house-man’s heritage from
Mother Nature. The babe in our home
such alittle while, grown into our hearts
and lives, closed his eyes in a long dream-
less sleep when earth looked its loveliest,
hid from view withacovering of flowers.
In the noonday summer time, when the
grain was ready for the harvest, Death
with his sickle out down one who had outs
lived his usefulness, old age had held him a
long time; with failing strength, impaired
faculties, he was “only wailing ’til the
shadows were a little longer grown." There
are often blessings in our households
that we do, not even know of, so com-
pletely are they disguised; there are hur-
dens put upon us that seem unbearable at
times, but which it home patiently often
result in good; we can not always see the
mission of an old person, we are apt to
think they are in the way. Not so. “ There
is one glory of. youth, another like the sun
shining in his strength, of wise maturity;
still another, mild, chastened, beneficent,
ofold age. It is most beautifully symbol-
ized by the silver crown that refines the
very plainest features.” Blessed is the
household that numbers among its inmates
an aged father or mother.

There comes occasionally in . the
late autumn, a day that hardly belongs
to that time of year; it seems almost
as if nature has relented at being
so chary of her sunshine and warmth
and tries to atone for her stinginess by
heaping her hounties upon us. It was on
such a day as this that many friends
gathered at a home in which death had
entered and taken the wife and mother.
She who had always given a cordial greet-
ing, a smile of welcome, lay silent and
cold in the house which had been beauti-
fied and made homelike by her presence.
But from the door and gate through which
she had passed for forty years, along the
roadvthickly strewn with fallen leaves, to
her last resting place, she little thought on
the glad new year that December’s winds
and elect would fall on her grave. We none
of as 12 now, so swiftly and silently Death’s
angel comes. And if we did know would
weany of us live difierently? Would we
drop the harsh tone. the words of reproach,
the fault-finding, the backbiting, the
hypocrisy? Would we live each day as if
it were our last day? We read in the
Bible, “except ye become like the little
child" and what does it mean, pray? We
know a little child is the loveliest, most
innocent being on earth, a fit symbol of
heaven’s inmates. The bells have rung,

“ Bung out the old,
Ruug in the new.

Bur-g out the false,
Bung in the true."

We have put the Old Year behind us
forever. The hopes, the disappointments,
the joys and sorrows, side by side. Over
betrayed friendship, misjudged actions,
misconstrued attentions, we "will drop a
tear, smother a heutacbe, and regret that
theblessed Christmas time, the time when
anaelssing “peace on earth, good willto
man.” has passed without explanations or
forgiveness. We will all begin another

 

new year, one bearing the burden alone,
the strong right arm gone, the “beautiful
reed broken.” The lonely mother, missing
the head that nestled on her bosom, drops a
tear on the “ things in the bottom drawer.”
The young ones now remember many
times when grandfather’s steps might have
been guided, when a little attention would
have made him glad. The vacant chair,
mother’s place at the fireside; the young
promising life in which so much intereat
was centered, all buried in the old year.

"' Out from the Father and into life,
Back to His breast from the ended strife
And the finished labor. I hear the word
From the ‘ips of Him who was child and

I -.
And I know, that so,
It shailbe in the land where we all shall go.

‘Thc world is troubled and hard and cold,
And men and women grow grey and old,
But beyond the world is an inner place
Where yet their angels b=—hoid God‘s face,

And lo! we know
That only the children can see Him so."

Barrios CREEK. EVANGELINE.

-——.O.—-—_

WOMAN SUFFRAGE.

.-

 

[Paper read by Mrs. Stephen Bldwell before
the Farmers‘ Union Meeting at Liberty Mills,
Dec 14th.]

As it has fallen to my lot toread a paper,
the subject to be woman suffrage, Ifeel
at once that i am incompetent to fill so im-
portant a position. This is a subj ct that I
am int sressed in, as it concerns my interests
personally. I consider that on it hangs the
destiny of our nation; the binding up of
bleeding hearts: the honor and chastity of
our children. My brothers, you have held
the reins of this nation in your hands from
its birth. You have guided it on until you
have lost control, and our destiny has
drifted into the hands of money kings.
You have been blinded and robbed. We
toil but to fill the millionaires’ vaults. The
farmer feeds the world, and where is his
recompense? Orr nation is fast becoming
a nation of poverty and crime. And should
we wonder at crime when we take into con-
sideration the toiling millions eklng out a
miserable existence and others reaping the
reward of their labors?

it is prosperity that creates love and
honor. It is hope that gives life to our
higher energies. Without it nature be-
comes sullen and depraved. Unless kind
Providence intercedes, our beautiful land
will be in mourning, our nation deluged in
blood. Then why not let us come to your

aid? It is in keeping with God’s holy laws.‘

God created man; He then created the
beasts of the field, the fowls of the air, the
fishes of the sea, and He saw His work was
not complete; He saw that it was not good
that man should be alone. He then
created. woman as man’s helpmate and
made them ruler over all that He had
created—not him, but them. Did He not
create her as his helper mentally as well as
physically? From the beginning man
made woman a slave and the world become
depraved and was lost in iniquity, and
God saw our need of a redeemer, and He
chose woman as a medium through which
the world might be redeemed from its
fallen state. Woman was the mother of
purity. 80 long as you reject the gift of
God you cannot prosper. Then why not
loose the fetters and let her revolutionize
our nation in love!

Give us the ballot, my brothers, and we

 

will bind up a thousand bleeding wounds
that are piercing your hearts today. We
will lift a heavy burden of taxation from
your shoulders that is weighing you down.
We will empty your prisons, your aims-
houses, your asylums for the insane. We
will present to you smiles instead of tears.
Our nation will be a nation of love and
principle. No more dwarfed intellects
caused by intemperance and unholy habits.

No more heart-broken wives, and mothers
weeping over their fallen loved ones.
Your daughters shall no more be decoyed
or kidnapped, and carried away from your
presence forever, to become a prey to
demons, guarded by stockades and blood-
hounds, all for the want of fearless, unselfish
officers to do their duty. We ask the right
of franchise because it. is our God-given
right.

You have no moral right to brand as
with the mark of Cain. God‘s holy laws
teach us to do unto others as we would
that they should do unto us; are you doing
so? Would you like to be obliged to fulfill
contract; that you have no voice in making?
We are obliged to live under laws that we
have no voice in. We are taxed by your
laws; we are imprisoned by your laws. We
are bound in the shackles that we have no
power to break, be the burden ever so
zrievious to be borne. Some of our brothers
say we should be satisfied with our laws as
they are, for there is not another nation
with such protective laws towomen. Where
is the protection that we crave? Our chil-
dren’s honor is ours, their joys are ours,
their sorrows are ours. Think of it,
brothers, 200,000 licensed schools office in
our beautiful land, with doors wide open to
receive your children and mine! I could
reconcile my mind to the death of my child,
but” to ruin and disgrace never. Should we
sit idly by and say we must be satisfied
with such protection? Can we quietly sub-
mit to our loved ones being slaughtered be-
fore our eyes? The thoughtful mother’s
life is filled with fear and forebodings.
Her children never leave the parental roof
without her last injunction: “Be careful,
my child, shun the destroyer. he lurks in
every nook.” We see his work of destruc-
tion all over our land. Is that our protec-
tion and must we be satisfied with it and
forever hold our peace? Ah no, we will
not, we cannot, our children’s blood crieth
unto the Lord of Sabbath, and He is listen-
ing, He hears the wail of weeping wives,
mothers and orphans. The day star of
hope is beaming. My brothers, if you alone
are going to better our condition and yours,
why are we sinking lower every day! Some
say we should not extend the right of suf-
frage to woman because there are so many
that are had. We admit that there are, and
daily multiplying under our present laws,
and we shudder at the thought. But
where there is one vile woman, she has
numerous admirers from the same school
that are voters. What are your require-
ments of the leaders of our nation? Must
they be of good character? Must they be
honest? Must they be pure?

I believe where there is one pure, intelli-
gent vote cast there are ten unprincipled
ones cast. Then arewe safe? Are we not
in danger? Do you not shudder for on

 

 

 


 

 

 

THE

destiny? But it matters not who or what
it is if he is twenty~one years of age, any-
thing but a female. He may not know
how to read or write; he may come to the
polls from the deepest degradation, if he
has manhood enough to stand up and de-
posit his vote it counts the same as yours.
Should we be governed by such as these?
Is their intellect superior to your wives and
sisters? Do you associate your intelligent
lives with beings that are so far inferior to
the lowest outcasts of our nation?

I think our government lacks the pure
motherhood which cannot be supplied with-
out her voice. The want of mother love
and council has been the cause of many a
bad woman and hardened man. Whose
hand is the most efficient to soothe the
aching brow or smooth the dying pillow!
Woman has done a vast amount of good by
her prayers and her tears, her voice is heard
from ocean to ocean; she has done all our
laws will permit her to do, she is untiring
in her efforts in your behalf; she is a lover
of the human race. Why should she be
fettered from the good she would accomp-
lish? I think you need have no fear of the
bad ones; laws that now exist suit them very
well. One writer says if women should
vote it would look so masculine, we should
cease to love her; she would no longer be
the queen of the household to adore. Would
it be sense to ignore a lovely being be-
cause she seeks the welfare of our people?
They may commence life together, the bus-
band and wife, and if she is no help to him
he cannot succeed. They may both be
industrious, share the same hardships, the
same privations—except the old adage “A
man’s work is from sun to sun, but a
woman’s work is never done,” and by their
toll and economy they may accumulate a
nice property. and if she survives the
decease of her husband and she has no
children the law gives her a certain amount
of her hard earnings and the rest goes to
his nearest relatives. When I think of this
the thought occurs how absurd the idea that
a woman can’t fight. And if she is left
with children she is allowed, one-third and
the law takes care of the rest for her
children. Why not let her control her hard
earned property the same as the husband?
Would she wrong her children any more
than the father? If she is taken from her
little ones the father is allowed; if he will,
to spend his last dollar and leave his chil-
dren dependent on the cold mercies of the
world—apltlable condition indeed, for if
you have no money you have no friends. If
there is a being in this world that my soul
goes out to in love and pity, it is to the
child that is deprived of mother love and
care. The human heart grows cold, and
all the good there is in us starves to death
in adversity. The mother asks the right of
suffrage in behalf of her children. While
her children are under her guidance they
are all right; but when they get old enough
to go out into the world away from her in-
fluences, often into by and forbidden paths,
they may become reckless, they may sink
so low that they are despised by all but
mother, her arms are always open to re-
ceive them. They ever have her love and
counsel; they may cast it from them, and
trample it under their feet, but she cannot

 

forsake them, she will not cease to love and
pity them. Children often do not realize it,
but she is the truest earthly friend they
have or ever can have; we miss her even in
our mature years.
Mk...—
A MARKET FOR DOUGHNUTS.

I find my sewing machine a very great
help many times, aside from the regular
sewing. For instance, if I wish to cut one
of the many varieties of braid now used for
trimming, I first run it across several
times and then out between the rows of
stitching and thus find there is neither
waste nor danger of fraying; in this way I
also find it possible to out either crocheted
or knitted lace. And to go from one ex-
treme to another, it is just a splendid way
with old rag carpet. Alter sewing carpets
the machine must be carefully cleaned or
the sand will cut the bearings. We also
sew the Youth's Companion and all such
papers on the machine and find them worth
much more than where each member of the
family asks “ Have you seen the rest of this
paper?”

E. L. B. wishes a recipe for doughnuts
“just like mother’s.” Now as all my
friends know that I am but an amatuer cook
and never aspire to the dignity of sending
recipes to the Housunonn, it gives me
very great pleasure to furnish just what
E. L. B. requires, because this recipe has
been often tried and never found wanting.

First, call the boys and admonish them
on this wise: “ Now boys, you know that
we got up very late this morning, and there
is no school to-diy, so we will have but two
meals; and you must fill the woodbox and
get some water, then run over to the woods
and cord wood for papa, and perhaps he
will let you saw alittle if you ask him
very politely. And don’t take any notice
of the noon train, but stay there until the
bell rings for dinner.” “All right, Mampy;
but be sure and ring the bell loud enough
when dinner is ready.” Now proceed to
get your moulding board and make dough-
nuts, first having put on the lard to heat.
It you have eggs use them, if not make
them without; if you have nice sweet but-
termilk use that, if not you must take sweet
milk‘ and baking powder; if you have
neither, take a piece of nice light bread
dough and add sugar and ingredients to
suit your individual taste. Having fried
your cakes set them on the pantry shelf to
cool; then proceed to wipe the sweat from
your brow and sit down to rest a little
while, for it is only I P. M. But hark! was
that thunder? “not much;” that is the
ominous tramp of leather boots with boys
inside them, and “ Mother! mother! are’nt
we going to get any dinner tO-day ?” You
try to look severe and ask them why they
came before the bell rang. “ Because we
are just as hungry as ten bears and can’t
wait anylonger.” “ There now, less will do,
say one bear for instance, and you will find
apan of doughnuts on the pantry shelf,
help yourselves.”

“Oh jollyidoughnutsll” and there is a
general stampede for the pantry. Then it
will pay you to listen for the verdict. “ 0h
aren’t they good! does not mamma make
good doughnuts?” until you feel that you,

 

HOUSEHOLD. 3

must say, “ Come boys, you will spoil your
dinner and eat up all my forenoon's Work.”
Paterfamilias come along breaking the
third one and remarks, “ Wife, I believe you
do learn something from the FABMEB
HOUSEHOLD; these doughnuts make me
think of those mother used to make when I
went to school in Howell and walked home
every night.”

A Happy New Year to the members and
readers of the HOUSEHOLD. My heartfelt
sympathy to those in sorrow. For myself,
at the opening of another year 1 can only
say with our beloved Whittier:

“I know not whe'o His islands lift
Their fronded palms in air;
I on-y know i cannot drift
Beyond His love and care.”

And so good by, old 1888.
HowuLL. MRS. W. J. G,

_.__...‘_._-

NOTES ON BACK NUMBERS.

 

I want to ask Evangeline where she found
Miss Parloa’s recipe for making coffee with
cold water. I have two of this author’s
cook books, one of them her very latest, and
though I searched carefully, could find no
instructions for such manipulation. I can
not fancy that the result would be altogether
satisfactory. I used sometimes to settle
coffee. when eggs were not to be had, by
putting a gill of cold water into the coffee
pot a few moments before we were ready to
sit down to the table; this would “settle”

it after a fashion, but seems to be some-

thing quite unlike the process to which Evan-
geline refers. There is nothing which can
take the place of an egg to clarify coffee; it
seems to not only make it clear, but also to
add a richness and flrvor nothing else can
give.

 

A. H. J.’s struggles with the sweetbriar
recall the great clumps that grew under the
sitting-room windows and by the front gate
of my grand-father’s house, which were so
delicately beautiful in their pale pink, clus-
tered blossoms and fine cut, dark green
foliage, and so gay later with the big. bril-
liant red haws which we children used to
string for necklaces. The half-opened buds
are extremely pretty. But we approached
those bushes very respectfully for they were,
oh, so thorny i All the sweetness could
hardly pay for the torn fingers impaled on
those cruel hooks. The soil in which these
bushes grew was stiff clay, but I have seen
them rioting on a sandy bill. so cannot fan-
cy them particular about their location. I
would advise removal of the soil at the spot
where a bush is wanted, and the filling in
with earth taken from the spot where the
roots are obtained. Sometimes plants will
not flourish where the sub-soil thrown out
in excavating for a cellar or for foundation
walls has been spread over the surface. In
that case a spot must be especially prepared
for the roots, and the fertility maintained
by an annual top-dressing of fine compost.

 

Polly wants us to “ wash and be clean.”
I do not think it possible that the person
who is careless in matters of personal clean-
liness can tell how repulsive they are to those
who are particular to be clean, both in per-
son and raiment. The odor of unaired ap-
parel, foul with the secretions of the skin,
is sometimes so strong that one looks up in-

 


 

4.:

r

THE HOUSEHOLD. -

 

stinctively to see if the clock has stopped.
I knew a young girl once who had but one
presentable dress, yet, though she wore it
day after day, she was always fresh and
sweet. The secret was that at least twice a
week, when she came home from work, she
slipped on an old garment, took her dress
down into the back yard, shook and brushed
it, hung it on the ciothesline and left it
there for the air to sweeten and purify. She
said it always "smelled clean” when she
brought it in again. A farmer once brought
a quantity of butter to market, at a time
when that commodity was scarce and in de-
mand. Bat none'of the dealers wanted his,
greatlyto his surprise. They “didn’t even
want to look at it,” he complained. They
looked at him and that was enough. His
shabby clothes exhaled such an odor of horse
stable, tobacco and an unclean person that
the inference was inevitable that the butter
made on his premises must partake of the
same fragrance. Had they seen him take
the blankets from his horses and throw them
over the packages of butter, as I did, they
would have had a still greater repugnance
to dealing with him. There are not a few
middle-aged men who would be the better
of a little such attention as “ Mrs. Good-
all,” in “Down the Road to Emersons,”
bestowed upon .her husband, when she
scrubbed his ears and the outlying districts
in their vicinity with the corner of the tow-
el before he was allowed to go to church.
I presume there are not a few who would
get as angry over it as did “ Uncle Hiram.”
Some people seem to have such an antipathy
to water i

 

Evangeline seems to have come near to
the secret of getting on peaceably in a
promiscuous world when she asserts her
ability to enjoy life without a confidential
friend. That relationship—intimate friend-
ship—is one of the most difficult to sustain
in its integrity. 'H,;ppy the woman whose
heart can hold its own bitterness, whose na-
tureis so well controlled that she needs no
confidant for her 1933 or sorrows. Her reti-
cence shall spare her much misapprehension,
much disappointment. Half the troubles that
some up in families, and between husband
. and wife. are fanned into quarrels through
the telling of little things that ought never
to be put into words for another’s ear.
Half the divorces are due to the ill advised
sympathy and partizsnehip of those who
call themselves the “ best friends " of the
parties. If you want peace at home, be
silent about what happens there. Remem-
ber the old Arab saying: “Thy friend hath
a friend, and thy friend’s friend hath a
friend.” The world will respect the sanc-
tity of your home only so far as you your—
self respect it by your silence. When you
invite comment by telling outsiders your
woes. you must expect to be “ talked oven”
for as Evangeline reminds us. if you cannot
keep a secret which concerns yourself most
nearly, how can you expect others to do so?
Some will say, “ Oh, I must have some one
to sympathize with me, it is such a relief to
me.” This is simply profound egotism. It
is saying, “I must have some one to talk
to about myself.” And how many. many
timeout people have to regret their semi—v
dense. Howmuoh trouble they make for

.seen them with a crocheted cover of knit-

 

themselves and for others. They are
“broken reeds” to lean upon, examples
of Solomon’s "fair women without dis-
cretion.” BLATBIX.
—————vo¢—-—

SYSTEMATIZE YOUR WORK.

 

How about my good resolutions to write.
regularly and often to the little paper?
But you all know how much easier it is to
preach instead of practise. However, here
I am again.

I’ve had something on my mind to say
fora numbsrcf weeks, but have been too
busy among my Christmas wools. lwant
to tell El See that I actually think I have a
great deal better tray of taking care of the
stray bits of wrapping twine that come
into the house, than in a scrap-bag. In a
certain corner of my pantry is what is
known in the family as the “string ball.”
As the bits of string come to hand they are
wound on this ball, which is “bits of string”
to the core. When a piece of string is
wanted for anything there it is, ready to
be had without any loss of time, temper or
patience. For you know string put in
loosely together will tangle in spite of you,
and it is so trying to be obliged to stop and
untangle a piece of string when you are in
a hurry; so I think my string ball is a great
improvement on El See’s scrap bag.

I want to tell you something I did for
Christmas, and which was so pretty and
cost so little that I was quite proud of it: I
happened to have two nice bottles alike in
both shape and size, with glass stoppers;
and I thought I would like to cover them
for toilet bottles for a gift. But I had no
stray pieces of satin or plush that would do,
and didn’t care to expend an 1011 money on
them, so I bought five cenze’ tit-lair each of
pink and blue split zephyr-the palest tints
—and crocheted covers for those bottles,
with a scalloped edge for the top drawn in
with cord and tar-3015 of the same, and you
cannot think how pretty they were. I have

ting silk, but that costs so much and was
really no prettier or daintier than the ones
I made. The whole thing represented very
little outlay, as the bottles were not regular
orthodox toilet bottles “out Seeley’s vanilla
and lemon bottles, which are to be had at
any grocery.

How much one may accomplish if they
are only systematic! 1 am beginning to
think it is more in system than in the
steam-engine sort of way some persons have
of working. 1 have heard women say:
”Dear me, I just work and work all the
time from morning ’til night and don’t get
anything done.” Probably that woman has
worked on the jump all day, and made
enough movements to have accomplished a
great deal if her work had been systemati zed.
Ten to one she didn't know when she arose
in the morning what the day’s Work was to'
be; had‘ nothing planned.

Work needs to be planned ahead from
day to day, and from week to week. If
we would be more regular and systematic
about our work, we would get time for a
great deal of outside work and amusement,
which some women think is impossible.

Have you not heard this remark many
times: “Rad? Why I don‘t look into a

 

book or paper from one week’s end to the
other!” Now I don’t think there is any
person who cannot find time for acertain
amount of reading each day or week if he
will. -

I know a woman who read the Chau- .
tauqua Course while taking care of three
small children, doing all her own house-
work and all her own sewing. After read.
ing the Course she went right to work for .
the seals. But this same woman is one of
the most systematic persons 1 ever knew.
Her werk is planned and made to fit into
each day as it comes. Not such a fit as we
like in our dresses, but loozely, so there is a
margin left into which is put the bit of
reading. There is so much in taking care
of the minutes, making each one count.
Have you rung the bell for dinner and no
one comes? How natural it is to stand
and watch the dinner spoiling, or sit do rm
to wait. in that few minutes perhaps you
could accomplish ten pages of good, solid
reading matter; or dust the sitting room, or
work up the butter, or do some other little
odd job to make room for the ten pages
after dinner. How many times have I
washed up the iron and tin ware while
waiting, thus making a few minutes’ less
on the dish washing after dinner.

Hive certain days for certain work.
Don’t sometimes wash Monday and some-
times Tuesday or Wednesday, as the case
may be. Systemaiize your work. It all
simmers down to the one word system. The
systematic gerson will be sure to take care

of the minutes. EUPHEMIA.
ALBION.
Contributed Recipes.

 

FRIED Canes —0neheapiug cup sugar: one
cup thick rour unis; three lchl tablespoon-
fuls lard; two eggs, well beaten; salt, nut-
meg, small teaspoonful soda.

Gmam Sft'Al‘Sc-UQO cup molasses; one
cup sugar; one cup lard; boil five minutes;
when cool add one tablespoonfui vinegar;
half tablespooni’ul ginger, half teaspoonfnl
cinnamon, quarter of cloves. one heaping
teaspcouful soda dissolved in six tablespoon-
fuls of cold water. Mix quite hard; roll thin;
bake quickly.

Bucannar Canes—Twoahirds cup yeast;
one pint skim milk; half pint sour butter-
milk; one teaspoonful salt. Make a batter
that Will beat easily, using one-quarter wheat
flour. Stir this up at night, in the morning
add one small tesspoonful soda, dissolved in
warm water. Save a cofieecupt‘ul of this
batter for next time to use instead of yeast.
Try a small piece of fat pork on a fork to
rub the griddle to keep the cakes from stloko

ing. Mas. J.
SOEOOLcnm.

Bncxwuua'r Panama—To start the cakes,
take a quart of warm water, four cups
buckwheat flour; two tablespoonfuls’of yeast,
one teaspoonful salt. Save enough of the
batter every morning for leaven; to this add
a quart of water and four cups of flour
every day, and stir up the batter in
the morning instead of waiting un-
til night. In the morning, when you are
ready to bake your cakes, add a level table»
spoonful of sugar; if the batter is too thick—
as it probably will be—thin with sweet milk.
These cakes, baked on a good hot griddle.
will be tender, digestible and delicious." The '
sweet milk makes them brown nicely» .

Poss Epsom Autism -