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DETROIT, APRIL 6, 1889.

 

 

THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

For the Household.
FBILDIA’ 0 FILE LA MBS.

.__.._

BY ELLA‘R. woon.
He stands beside the meadow bars—
My boy with sunny hair;
Where the weanling lambs are pasturtng~
in the early morning fa r.
“ Com 1, nauties, get your breakfast,
Ka—da: ka da!" he cries;
They quickly scamper to his side——
My boy with laughing eyes.

The tame ones cluster round him
And fee 1 from out his hand ;
Whi e farther oif the timid ones

With heads uplifted stand.
But soon the oats are scattered,
And all are gathered round,
The shy ones growing bolder.
Since their breakfast they have found.
And as I stand and watch them,
And the little lamb I love,
i pray that God Will feed him
Wi h manna from above,
Thatthe geLt'e 1 ring Shepherd
To my child will e'er be nigh.
Till far above this world of sin,
He’s safe with Him on high.

._--—-*-..———————-

A man can build a mansion
A' d furnish it throughout;
A man can build a palace.
With lofty walls and stout;
A man can build a temple,
With high ani spacious dome;
But no ma 1 in the world can build
That precious thing called Home.

It is the happy faculty
0! woman. far and wide,
To turn a cot or palace
lnto something else beside——
Where brothers, sons and husbands, tired.
With willing footsteps come;
A place of rest, where love abounds.
A perfect kingdom—Home.

-————...—-—-——-—.

THE LESSONS OF A TRAGEDY.

It is but a short time since the daily
papers were full of the accounts of one of
those tragedies of love and murder which
so thrill a sensation-loving public. In a
city which shall be nameless, a young man
invited his fiancee to walk with “him, and
while they were promenading, attempted
to put a bullet through her head, and an-
other through his own. His marksmanship
was not equal to his intentions; the girl was
but slightly wounded, and his own recovery
a matter of a couple of weeks; what at first
was supposed a tragedy involving the
death of two persons concluded in the police
court with a complaint for assault with in-
tent to kill. There have been so many
crimes of} the same character within a few
months, as to almost prove the truth of the
assertion that the publishing the details of a

 

tragedy in one city is almost certain to be E
followed by a repetition in another, as if
crime were epidemic. So observable has
this become that one of our illustrated
comic papers points out the dangers to
which marriageable young women are ex-
posed; and pictures one whose adorer is
upon his knees in humble cntreaty, as get-
ting him in range of a revolver and order-
ing “ Throw up your hands!" before she
will give him his answer.

There are some circumstances connected
with the affair alluded to, which are de-
serving of serious consideration. The
young woman interested frankly stated to
the ubiquitous reporter—who was at the
scene before the doctor—that though she
was engaged to the man she never had any
intention of marrying him It is a curious
condition of moral sentiment which can
make such an avowal possible on the part
of a girl still in her teens, an equally singu-
lar condition in the community that no one
seemed to be at all surprised at the ac-
knowledgment, or hint that a man so
crcdulous as to pin his faith to a woman’s
Yes might have a shadow of an excuse for
an insane frenzy of jealousy and disappoint-
ed passion.

Can she who, to gratify a craving for at-
tention and admiration, or from any other
unworthy motive, leads a man on with
assent smiling from her eyes and syllabled
on her tongue, listens to his protestations,
receives his pledges, promises her love,
meaning all the time to turn her back and
break her word when she is tired of him or
a more eligible suitor presents himself—can
she, I ask, be held blameless in the after-
tragedy? Indeed not. The punishment
has been of her own making. Her eoquetry
and frivolity have brought the whirlwind.
Not once does she considerthe consequences
to her victim; it is only the gratification of
her own vanity and thirst for conquest she
cares for. Of honor, of the sacredness of a.
promise, .Of the depth and intensity of the
feelings she plays with as a cat plays with
the mouse, she has no comprehension.

There are by far too mapy girls in these
days who think that to have been “ eu-
gagcd ” two or three or halfa dozen times is '
proof of theirfibelle-hood. a tribute to their at-
tractiveness, an enhancement of their value.
But people with old-fashioned ideas of
feminine virtues, of right and wrbng, of
the binding nature and privileges of an
engagement to marry, do not so view it.
Nor do the young men who are worth
marrying take that view of it. The girl

 

whose lips have been pressed by several

assorted sizes of moustachcs, who has
granted Tom, Dick and Harry the privi~
legcs of betrothed lovers, is not the one the
man who will make a. good husband
chooses for a wife. llis the thought of the
locker—0n in the ballroom, who tacitly re
signed the girl who had charmed him on
seeing her whirled in the mazy dance:

" What you’ve toucltd y: uniay take!
Pre ty waltzer. adieu!"

The man in the case had, it appears,
employed rather a peculiar mclhod of
strengthening his jitmr-rv’x wavering in«
clinations toward matrimony. He had
threatened to kill her if she did not keep
her promise. There are certain savage
tribes among which, when a male becomes
cnamoured of a female of his species, he
watches his opportunity and, knocking her
senseless, drags her off to his hut, where,
thus impressed by his superior strength
and man-like qualities, she is over after his
most humble. and biddablc servant. it.
would thus seem a return to that primitive
simplicity, so dear in the retrospect to son e
people, to threaten the life of the woman
who hesitates about furnishing data for a
marriage license. The girl whose lover
could do so unmanly a thing as to threaten
her, should lose no time in having him put
under heavy bonds to keep the peace. The
formalities attending such proceedings—
including the hunt for bondsmen under
the sherifi’s protection-are eminently cal-
culated to cool the fiery impetuosity of
youth. She should certainly lose no time
in severing the engagement, for What sort
of a husband would he make who can con
template the murder of the person Whose
existence should be dearer to him than his
own; and who would compel through fear
what he cannot hold by love?

No honorable, true-hearted girl or woman
will strive to win a heart through vanity,
or love of conquest, merely to cast it aside,
as the angler tosses the little fish he has
caught upon the bank to die, disdaining

their capture. It is cruel, it is unwomanly,
it is ignoble. It is an offense against the
majesty of the deepest emotion of the
human heart. It is fraught with peril to
life and soul, for many a man whose love
has been made the toy of some heartless
eoquette has lost faith in God and humani-
ty, and worn the scars to his death. Lite
is full of just such wrecks, for not all the
tragedies are told in the books or the news-
papers. BEATRIX.

 

 

M. E. H., of Albion, asks: " Will some
one who has had plenty of experience and:
good luck cooking all kinds of fish, please
send a. few methods employed with the
different kinds, and oblige.”

    


 

Q

 

 

T_HE H OUSEHOLD.

 

.__._

AN ANSWER T.) M. B.

Yes, Mrs. Bidwcll, ll See is “ still won-
dering” how it can be that giving the
ballot to women will bring about what is
promised in the original statement: “ “’0
will lift a heavy burden of taxation, we
will empty your prisons, your almshouses,
your asylums for the insane.” If the name
of woman was always synonymous with
purity and all that was wicked was the
work of the other sex, then it might be, but
alas, it is not so.

Mrs. B. suggests that “ El See is pOS<
sibly the wife of a millionaire.” If she has
read these columns for a few years she may
know that. in all the world no one is more
utterly alone than El See. She has drank
the bitter cup to the dregs, and knows what
the days and nights are when there is “ no
ear to pity and no arm to save.” Herc
wherel live I have not one relative, male or
female, to assist or advise. All this might
not be considered applicable to this letter,
but it is in this sense: Standing thus alone,
with all the business that comes in connec-
tion with the settlement of estates, the
management of a farm and several public
offices, I know whereof I speak, and in all
my dealings with mankind I have met no

one who has treated me as in any sense in-
ferior to himself. Perfect respect has been
the unfailing rule. The idea that I was a
“ slave, booby, drudge, and looked upon
as a. necessary evil,” has never occurred to
me or been suggested in any way, and no
one has ever attempted to defraud me of
a penny. Living in the same State, I
am subject to the same laws that hamper
Mrs. B., but the law gives me every right
that I can wish, and I can save or spend
just as I please, without let or hindrance.
I have hired and loaned money, and no
man ever asked for a “ signer;” and having
in my loneliness found such good, true,
honorable friends, I cannot read such tirades
against them and remain silent; and I have
no reason to believe that those with WhomI
have dealt are different from the average of
intelligent people. I have always held
that where women found so many knaves
and libertines among the opposite sex there
must be something wrong with the women.

I pay my taxes, knowing full well that it
is “taxation without representation,” but
the laws protect myself and my belongings
soperfectly that Ieannot see wherein my
vote would help the matter. If that would
protect our girls or elevate the standard of
social purity I would gladly go to the polls
and help all in my power;but I still believe
that home influence and eternal vigilance
are the safeguards there, and more to be
depended upon than any law.

On the subject of mother love or wife
love it is certainly a part of the Divine plan
that the child shall “leave father and
mother.” One by one they go out from the

‘home nest and the parents live just as hap
pily, and oftimes much more so, when
they are thus separated; but any separation
between husband and wife comes by break-
ing laws of both God and man. How
often we see parents and children of en-
tirely different tastes and temperament; but

been attracted to each other by their con-
geniality and they have the same interests, go
in the same society, and love with adevotion
that never grows old. In this connection I
remember a mother saying to me: “ So
many women complain because they have
to give up society and stay at home with
their children, but I feel as though my
child more than makes up all that to me.”
She was clasping her one year old daughter
in her arms, and knowing the wealth of
mother-love showered upon it, I said:
“Supposing you had to give up one or
the other—your husband or your child——
and you could make your own selection,
which would it be? ” Her eyes filled with
tears at the thought, but she said, “It
wouldn’t take me a moment to decide that,”
involuntarily reaching her beloved child
out toward me, as though I were the de-
stroying angel, and adding “ My husband
will always stand first.” I think this is a
reliable test and would, almost invariably,
receive the same answer. Many a mourn-
ing widow has 'said to me, “ I had buried
my children and. many relatives, but I
never knew the full meaning of death until
I lost my husband.” It is useless to argue
such matters, and of no avail to bring ex-
amples, but I still believe, as I wrote
for these columns three years ago, of all
the throbbing chords the deepest, tenderest,
holiest, responds to the name of husband.
Wasnmorox. EL SEE.

_____..._.————-

TWO QUESTIONS ANSWERED.

 

In reply to Huldah Perkins I rise to ex-
plain. First, select ybur tamarack poles,
anyWhere from three to six inches in
diameter. After peeling off the bark
scoop out a trench deep enough to lay the
pole in even with the surface of the ground;
then draw the dirt over it from both ways
to cover to the depth of four or five inches,
then plant your strawberries directly over
the pole, fill in between the rows with
marsh hay, and you have a strawberry bed
that will last for years with no other work
than covering every fall with coarse hay and
removing from the plants in the spring to
spread between the rows too thickly for
weeds to grow through. They will yield
much better, and the poles keep them from
drying out and fugnish nourishment. Any
one planting a bed in this way will never go
back to the old way. This is the story as it
was told to me by an agent from aKalama-
zoo nursery over, a year ago, who said he
had a bed in fine bearing condition that had
been planted nine years. I had told the
tamarack pole story once before, no doubt
Huldah had forgotten it.

I would like to know in what county
Pioneer is situated, as I am thinking of
moving, and my mind is continually revert-
ing to Huldah Perkins and her northern
home,

Ihave mended cracks in astove by mix-
ing salt and wood ashes with water, then ap-
plying on the inside, same as lime mortar;
it will bake hard in a short time. Of
course the fire must be out when it is put
on. Bass.

[Pioneer is in the northeastern township

County is directly north of Osceola and
Clare counties. Lake City is the principal
town, and the county seat. Perhaps, as
there seems to be considerable curiosity
about the conditions of life in the northern
part of the State, Huldah would be willing
to gratify our readers by a description of her
surroundings. If we are not mistaken, she
has done so once, a long time ago; though
possibly it is a letter from Maybelle which
we have assigned to Huldah Perkins—Ed]

————...————-—

ONE WEEK.
I shall begin it. with Tuesday. Bu-t first
let us right ourselves about “our force."
There are three of us- who pose alternately
as “ Phyllis” and “ Phileta,” and if I
“ own up ” to personating “ Phileta” oftener
than the other two, don’t say a. word, it is
so much more natural to try to be a lady
than a. woman. '
The alarm had gone off with a zip and
whiz at twenty-five minutes to five, this
fifteen hours a day system being imposed
upon us by the saw-mill Philander has been
putting up in the woods on the—I was about
to write “ banks of the raging cans ,” but
it is not; it is the railroad that just misses
our west line. I have always heard that a.
“ miss is as good as amile;” in our case it
was better. That timber lot that has al-
ways been such athorn in my flesh is being
rapidly converted into lumber, ties and
wood; but of course it has added two or
three more straws to already well loaded
backs.

Our family at the present writing num-
bers nine. The bread was mixed by my—
self, cofiee made and the little one dressed,
for she is one of. those uncommon natures
that enjoy early rising. I then sliced the
bread, filled the cream pitcher and made
the cakes from oatmeal and flour. In the
meantime the potatoes were boiling, one
frying pan was filled with beef’s liver, the
second one held beefsteak; at six o’clock
the bell was rung for breakfast, the men
were en route for the woods at ten minutes
after seven.

The bread was ready to be moulded into
the tins. I made four loaves, then into the
remainder of the dough I worked a small
teacup of sugar, a lump of lard the size of
a black walnut and one well beaten egg;
made it into a smooth lump and set it away
for another rising, while I skimmed nine
pans of milk; had a “clarin’ out” of the
pantry in general and cupboard in par-
ticular. The table was cleared and dishes
washed, three beds down stairs made, the
sitting room brushed up and dusted, zinc
washed off, then the “ small boy” was
waked up, helped to dress, gotten ready
for school, given his breakfast. You al-
ways make your children get up to break-
fast! Well, I can only say I’m glad I wasn’t
a child in your time. They will be men
and women soon enough and have to get
up. How I do pity a boy that never has a.
childhood, but is “ put through ” from the
time he is first allowed to drag. Don’t he
look back with regret to the time when he
first proved, to his father’s satisfaction, that

 

 

a. wedded pair, who are truly mated, have

of Missaukee County, and Missaukee

could drive a team across a field, when

    

 

 


 

  

.he crawled up the back stairs, his legs and
back trying titles for the worst ache, feet
blistered, feeling a total lack of something,
thinks its sympathy, but falls asleep and
actually dreams, oh! such blissful dreams,
“ he is floating along to the dip of the oars’
musical time,” holdinga fishing-rod, but
his father’s voice tells him it is sunrise-—
“ Get up.” My boy may sleep; when he is
:a man he wont have the chance on the
farm. At nine o’clock a piece of beef was
put into the kettle to stew for dinner, well
altezl, pe p per addedgand just water enough
so it would bubble to the top of the meat;
parsnips dug, to fry. I made a fresh cake
for tea, and a kettle of small potatoes was
boiled to fry for supper, enough to last
three nights. I sewed a basket of white
carpet rags cut the afternoon before; wound
them in a skein for coloring. There was
an attack made on the ironing, a table-
‘spread for the dining-room was worked on
awhile, it is double-faced canton flannel,
a russet brown, two widths sewed together,
then a hem an inch wide turned all around
and held in place by a fancy stitch on the
right side done in cardinal silk—five yards
in the spread. Dinner consisted of stewed
beef, boiled potatoes, fried parsnips, coffee,
bread and butter, French pickles, ginger
cookies and mince pie. When the men
came up to dinner there was one extra
man along, but there was plenty for him.
The bread was baked in the meantime, four
tins of rusks, made in shapes and baked
while we ate dinner. I tucked myself
:away with the baby for a nap, which lasted
until three, she was ready to go out for a
play and I took my sewing, two little skirts
.to put bands and hems on, they were cut
from an old felt skirt; tucked away under
them was “ Robert Elsmere.” I began
reading it aloud, but finally went to reading
it to myself, so reading awhile, sewing
awhile, the afternoon passes, without a
‘call; the ironing is nearly finished and the
six o’clock whistle blows. The mail comes;
no MICHIGAN FARMER; a mistake some-
where. The boy brings in the basket of
eeggs—thirty-eight—I am well pleased with
our chickens, Plymouth Rocks and Dark
Leghorns, crossed, We have sold, since
.Jan. lst, forty-eight dozen eggs, besides
using quantities. Supper consists of fried
potatoes, cold beef, mustard, canned pears,
cucumber pickles, cake and tea, work
finished at eight; an hour to spend in read-
ing, authors, dominoes, eating apples.
Lights out at half-past nine.
(To be continued.)

——-——...__..___

iMISSES AND CHILDREN’S DRESSES.

 

Among the fabrics which will be popular
for the young people are, for early spring
wear, cashmere and serge for best, and an
infinite variety of cheaper goods in mixed
weaves of cotton and wool, which sell from
:35 to 50 cents per yard, according to fine-
ness and width. The Scotch flannels are of
this class, and are recommended for their
wearing and washing qualities. They are
made very simply; a kilt-pleated skirt, a
blouse waist, and full sleeves. Challi and
similar light weight goods are pretty for

THE HOUSEHOLD.

summer wear; the former is cheap and
though it will not stand severe wear, makes
dressy costumes for church and “ after-
noon bcst” wear. One of our merchants
recently filled his windows exclusively
with this line of goods, “ fifteen yards for
one dollar,” but it was an unusually coarse
quality, and also decidedly “skimped” in
width. That at a shilling and fifteen cents
better repays the cost and trouble of mak.
ing up. And there are Still better grades,
in more stylish patterns, at higher price.
This challi is in effect the “mousseline de
laine ” our mothers knew. Albatros cloth,
having somewhat fallen from favor, is be-
ing sold off at low rates; you can buy for
25 cents the goods that a year ago were sold
for 50 cents. For other dresses, ginghams
are generally selected,

To those of us who remember when girls
were copies in miniature of their mothers’
dresses, it is refreshing to see the miss in
her teens clad simply and sensibly in ging-
ham, flannel, cashmere, and similar mater-
ials, made up with the utmost plainness.
Skirts are composed of full straight
breadths, simply hemmed, gathered if of
cotton, pleated if wool, and worn with yoke
waists and full sleeves. A pretty way to
make these waists is to tuck them in yoke
shape, the tiniest of tucks, from a quarter
to three-eighths of an inch wide, the nar-
rower width being preferred; the tops of
the sleeves and the wrists are tucked in the
same way; the waist is gathered to a belt
and an Empire sash arranged as described
in the HOUSEHOLD of March 23rd. Girls of
fourteen or fifteen years wear their dresses
almost to the tops of their shoes, and those
from three to twelve years skirts reaching
half way from knee to shoe top. The very
long skirts for the “little tots” are out of
fashion. White dresses will be trimmed
with embroidery; the new insertions have
slits through which ribbon is to be draWn;
these are to be used in the skirts, set in
above the hem. An ingenious woman
could easily trim her little daughter’s best
white dress in an unique way, where these
new insertions cannot be purchased, by
cutting slits the length of the width of the
ribbon she wishes to use, buttouholing the
edges, and drawing in the ribbon.

Guimpe dresses are still worn by the little
people; the guimpes being of embroidery
or fine tucking. A sash of the dress goods
is sewed in at the under arm seams and tied
in a bow behind; each end should be about
a yard long and six inches wide. A pretty
way to make up a gingham dress is to set a
piece of tucked cambric down the front of
the waist, and set revers of embroidery in
each side, meeting at the waist line in front,
and either extending over the shoulders to
the bottom of the waist behind, or ending
in the shoulder seams. To trim a white
dress for a gala day, outline the pointed
waist with two shades of the same colored
ribbon, with two bows in front and a bow
with ends behind, and bows on the shoul-
ders.

Remember not to skimp the skirts of
these plain dresses; three widths of gingham
are used in dresses for six—year-old girls,
and four for these older; three widths ‘of

 

 

8-.

 

cashmere are”n0ne too many, and do not
overtrim the waists.
oursrnn GARMECII‘S.

Misses wear jackets almost exclusively.
Some are plain with two rows of buttons;
others have Directorie revers turning back
from a vest of lighter cloth. Ulsters, when ,
worn, have full sleeves and short capes and
must be long enough to cover the dress.
The new Connemara cloak has two box
pleats in the back from neck to waist, and
is gathered elsewhere to hang straight and
full from the neck; it may be peculiar but
certainly is not pretty. For younger girls
are cloaks of fancy suitings with box
pleated skirts attached to plain round
waist-s, and cordelieres to conceal the seam.
Capes are sometimes worn with these. For
the litttle ones, cloaks are made of cash-
mere or satin; there are no particularly new
styles, the waist has box-pleats front and
back, the fullness extending into the skirt;
two widths of the goods are used, and they
are lined with surah. I see often in my
daily walks a “ yellow haired lassie,” out
for an airing with her white-aproned nurse,
who wears a navy blue cashmere made in
this style, with a deep plush collar and
cuffs, and a big blue felt hat almost covered
with ostrich tips, under which a fair little
face, “ sweet enough to kiss,” seems almost

eclipsed.
———-—'.OO——-——

ODDS AND ENDS.

I would like to ask if any one can give
directions for doing plain book—binding at
home. We have so many pamphlets and
papers we would be glad to preserve for
reference, and would like them serviceably
bound. Will some one please reply through
the HOUSEHOLD.

I have lately tried covering my flatirons
with acover while heating, and was sur-
prised that it took so little fire to keep them
hot. ;

I also tried baking salt pork instead of
frying it. Freshen the slices and flour them
as usual, place in the spider and bake in a
hot oven. It will be nicely browned and
crisp, with very little fat left in it, and the
house will not be filled with smoke as in A
frying.

A good way to renovate half worn pillow-
slips is to rip open the end seam and fold
so the side seam will come in the center of
one side; sew at the end again and the wear
will come on the stronger part, while the
worn parts are at the sides, do you see? If
taken when they begin to show signs of
breaking threads it will make them-last
much longer.

Huldah Perkins, you are welcome to
clean -‘house while the snow is on the
ground for all me. I don’t care to risk my
life by taking up carpets, when the Win-
dows and doors must be open to winter
breezes from snowclad fields. A friend of
mine contracted a cold which resulted in
serious illness by cleaning house early one
year. Better wait for.- weather warm
enough to be comfortable and avoid such
risks, although no doubt snow is a good
article to clean house with. I’ll take mine
after it is melted, and perhaps save a
doctor’s bill. ELLA R. Woon.

 

 

FLINT.

  

  


 

THE HosUSEI-IOLD

    

 

LIFE ON THE FARM.

aper read by Mrs F. H. Read before the Rich-
land Farmers‘ Institute, Feb. 6th, 1839]

The old year was fading away as I sat in
the fast failing firelight, glowing dimly
upon the hearth, and mused upon life and
, its changes, as the years come and go.
Memory was busy with days of long ago,
oh so long ago, it would seem to some of
you, but as real and fresh to me as though
no score of years lay between the then and
now. Visions of neglected duties passed
in rapid succession through my mind, and
bright dreams unfulfilled. My revcry was
broken, as suddenly the coals upon the
hearth burned with new life, and on the
floor and over the walls, the firelight
danced and glanced and the merry bells
rang out: “A glad new year is born, rouse
up to new life and action. Look not
mournfully back upon the past, but brave-
ly go forward to such work as a new year
may bring to thee.” Oh yes, a new year
was mine! and I already saw a host of
duties awaiting its coming. I said to my-
self, I will not be a coward upon the thresh-
hold of a new year and ‘shrink back from
any work it may bring to me, when sud.
. denly there arose out of the ruins of the
past and stood before me in all its reality,
the remembrance of a promise reluctantly
wrung from me. and even now the time
rapidly approaching for its fulfillment, to
write an essay on “Life Upon the Farm,”
and as Irecalled it. I could not help but
add to the subject chosen for me, or “ What
I don’t know about Farming;” having
never read Horace Greelcy’s wonderful
book, “ What I Know About Farming,” I
did not anticipate the task thus assigned
me, and cast about me for a thought to
anchor to, when my attention was riveted
to apicture in the coals, recalling days of
long ago, and thus it glided before me, in
an old New England kitchen

Where a warm wood fire burned bright,
Sat honest Farmer Ketchum and his wife
One winteir‘s night; the wind without was wail-

[P

118
With a. wild and woeful sound,
And the fleecy folds of the drifting snow
Lay deep upon the around. ~
But what cared Farmer Ketchum for the tumult
out of doors?
For he had foddered the cattle and done the
other chores.
And snug in the chimney corner
In his easy chair he sat,
Silently smoking his old clay pipe.
And petting the purring cat:
While plying ner ku tting needles.
His wife rocked to and fr v, humming a hymn,
And dreaming a d-eam of the long ago.
Over the old time fireplace a rusty musket hung,
And a. score of strings of apples from the smoky
ceiling swung,
While back in a. d ngy corner,
ticked away,
And loakei lik = the sagging farm house. fast
falling to decay.

The picture has faded and again the fire

burns dim. I wander in dream land, again
I tread the old familiar streets and see the
old familiar faces. Again I stand in my

childhood’s home and gaze upon the
mountains around and beneath me; and

close to my heart this vision came:

"An old farm house with windows wide,
And sweet with clover on every side, -
The door with woodbiue wreathed about,
With loved ones flitting in and out.

Halt in shadow, halt in sun, smother rocking

her little one.

And words come back that mother would give,

To teach us to die and fit us to live ”

Again I hunt the sweet wild strawberries
in the tall grass in the big meadow, and

the old clock

birds until I hear the old familiar call,
“ Get out of that mowing lot, you’ll trample
all the grass down," and with fast beating
heart I hurriedly obey the order, spilling my
berries as I run. Again I hear the whetting
of scythes and carry the cooling drink from
the oaken bucket in the little brown jug to
the thirsty hay makers in the 100 acre—"lot,
on which the sun shines so bright this glad
June day, but on which the rain was sure
to fall and never known to fail. before the
fragrant hay was ready to store away in the
mow. All day the» merry farmers wield
their scythes, and anxiously watch the sky,
stopping only long enough to eat a hasty
dinner and take their daily lunch of ginger-
bread and sweetened water. And so the
day wears away, and the tired haymaker
seeks gladly tired nature’s sweet restorer—
balmy sleep‘to rise with the first streak of
light, hoping to get the bay made while the
sun shines. But alas for his hopes! while
the air is sweet with the perfume of the
new mown hay, and the busy workers stop
to wipe the sweat from their dripping
brows, a low mutter of thunder is heard.
The big clouds pile higher and higher, the
sunshine is darkened, the rattling hayrack
comes swiftly at the heels of the old farm
horses. The oxen drag the heavy cart, and
hurriedly the big loads are gathered and off
to the barn, just as the lightning begins to
play in the sky and the big drops begin to fall.
The fragrant load is quickly mowed away,
and again the sun is shining, and the work
of getting in the hay goes on again. And
now the corn is gathered into the big barn,
and the huskcrs come from miles around,
and while the big lanterns swing high and
throw their pale sweet light from the candle
dip within, the merry laugh and joke! go
round, and the happy groups of youths and
maidens pile the big heaps of yellow corn,
till the glad call to supper comes from the
the old farm house, and promptly the sum-
mons is obeyed. And now as by magic the
pumpkin pies and doughnuts disappear,
and with light hearts the merry huskers
again seek the old barn, and songs and
games and money-musk go round, till tired
at last they all away together creep, and
soon the inmates of the farm house sink to
sleep.

(To be contt'mwd.)

___...._.._.

DAYS OF TRIAL.

 

The housecleaning days have come,
The best time in the year
For the smnke and dust that begrimes our rooms
To quickly disappear.
The time has again arrived when we be-
gin to think about and feel interested in
renovating our homes, or as it has so aptly
been called, the great “domestic upheava .”
Now I do not propose giving any advice
on the subject, for if I should I do not
think it would make any difference with
our housekeepers. We all have our own
way of doing things, and generally prefer it
to that of others. I will merely say that I
believe in a thorough cleaning from garret
to cellar, and that I for one rather enjoy
the business. However, please do not think
I am wanting a “ job;" I should certainly
decline with thanks, I have enough to do at

of pleasurable excitement about it all that
pays for the extra labor. How anxious we
are to see how the new carpet will look, or
perhaps the rooms are to be repapered,
and what a difference that does make! Or
perhaps it is only some new curtains, or a
long wanted bit of furniture, a couch, or
an easy chair; possibly it is only a fresh
coat of paint. No matter what change we
make, it is generally an improvement.
Even if there is nothing new to be added,
there is enjoyment in cleansing and freshen—
ing our rooms, rearranging the furniture,
polishing and rubbinguntil it looks almost
as good as new; then when everything is
finished, how glad that it is over with, and
we can enjoy the much needed rest.
Wacovsu. LAUREL VANE.

 

The HOUSEHOLD Editor will make pur—
chases of silks, wool dress goods, laces,
trimmings, etc, in this city, for those of
our readers who so desire, making in all
cases personal selection of the goods, to the
best of her judgment. A commission of
five per cent will be charged. Cash must
accompany all orders; the safest way to
send it is by postal money order or by ex-3
press. Persons ordering goods are de—
sired to send as explicit directions as pos-
sible as to what is wanted, and such direc-
tions will be carefully observed. Address
Mrs. Beatrix J ohustone, care of the M ICHI-
GAN FAItMER, 40 d: 42 W. Larned St., De
troit, Mich. '

———-—-—”————

Cr'rnon, says a correspondent of the
Country Gentleman, make the very nicest
of sweet pickles. As the citrons will keep
until spring in a cool place where they will ,
not freeze, they need not be made up until
spring. Cut. up the citron, and pare the
pieces, boil them in clear water till they are
easily pierced with a fork, drain, and then
proceed as with any other sweet pickle.
___,.._._.
Contributed Recipes.

SOFT GINGERBREAD.—Butter size of a walr
nut; two tablespodntuls sugar; one cotl‘eeoup
New Orleans molasses; one teaspoanful soda:
also one of ginger. Stir still with flour, then.
stir in two-thirds of a cup of boiling water,
and add another teaspoonful of soda. This
quantity makes two cards of cake.

CORNMEAL PUDDING -—Take half a eommon~
sized panful of milk. put in a kettle and let
boil;stirin six handfuls cornmeal and let it
b0il a few minutes; ’then add the rest of the
milk, cold, and stir up well. Add one cup
sugar, or half sugar and half molasses; four
eggs, well beaten; half nutmeg; butter the
size of a walnut. Put in a pudding pan and
bake slcwly three hours. _

RICE PUDDING WITHOUT Recs—Tc one
panful sweet milk add one cup rice, one cup
sugar, one cup raisins; lump of butter the
size of a walnut, nutmeg to taste. Bake three
hours, stirring occasionally. Good without
raisins.

To BAKE Scim Applies—Wash and wipe;
then halve or quarter; lay them in a deep
earthen or tin dish, sprinkle them well with
sugar, and add ”a little piece of butter; fill the
tin half full of water, and bake until tender.
We have tried “ Home-ly's" recipe for graham
.pudding, and think it nice. Mas. E. P. S.

 

 

play hide and seek with the butterflies and

home. But really thereis a certain amount

   
  

Carmela.