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DETROIT, {TUNE} 8. 1889.

 
THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 
PLACE YOUR HAND IN MINE, WIFE.

 
’Tis ﬁve-and-twenty years today
Since we were man and wife-—
And that’s a tidy slice I say,
From anybody‘s life.
And if you want, in looking back,
To feel how time has ﬂown,
There‘s Jack, you see, our baby Jack,
With whiskers of his own.

It‘s not been all smooth sailing, wife-
Not always laughing May;
Sometimes its been a weary strife
To keep the wolf away.
We‘ve had our little tiffs. my dear;
We‘ve often grieved and sighed;
One lad has cost us many a tear,
Our little baby died.

But, wife, your love along the road
Has cheered the roughest spell,

You‘ve borne your half of every load,
And often mine as well.

I‘ve rued full many a foolish thing
Ere well the step was ta’en;

But, oh: I‘d haste to buy the ring
And wed you o‘er again.

’Twas you who made me own the Hand,
That‘s working all along,
In ways we cannot understand,
Still bringing right from wrong.
You‘ve kept me brave and kept me true,
You‘ve made me trust and pray;
My gentle evening star were you,
That blessed the close of day.
Place your hand in mine, wife—
We’ve loved each other true;
And still, in shade or shine, wife,
There‘s love to help us through.
—Frederick Langbridae.

—_...___

SECOND. WIVES AND STEPMOTHERS.

 
There is a popular saying to the effect that

a man’s second wife always fares better than
his ﬁrst. Presumably the husband, having
learned the worth and value of a wife by
her loss, is inclined to make smooth domes-
tic paths; and in the ﬁrst ﬂush of his devo-
tion is perhaps coaxed into what some sober-
minded neighbors may consider follies, such
as putting a pump into the cistern or buying
a new parlor carpet. Other household de-
ﬁciencies that played their part in making
him a widower are remedied; for the remov-
al by “ visitation of Providence—we have a
way of making Providence responsible for
our own oversights—of a woman who has
patiently endured the inconveniences to
which the years have accustomed her, and
the bringing in a stranger to whom these
inconveniences assume the position of hard-
ships not to be endured since they may be
so easily removed, sometimes opens a man’s
eyes to conditions which are a shame to him,
because a little time and money might have
bettered them. And when Love is new,
be earth is none too good for its divinity;

 
when the glow fades and only grey ashes re-
main, the chimney may smoke and the roof
leak and the motto is “ Get along as well as
you can.”

1 am not so sure that the second wife al-
ways has what is slangily termed “ a snap.”
It depends. At least No. 1 never had to
hear “ My ﬁrst wife she—” The selﬁsh, in-
considerate man is not purged of his selﬁsh-
ness, nor the stingy one made generous, nor
the hot-tempered one made gentle, by vows
to another woman. There may be spas-
modic reforms, lasting a little time, then the
“old Adam” re-asserts itself and he falls
back to the old level. If there is a perma-
nent change, mark my words, it is in the
woman’s managing, not the man’s regenera-
tion. The angel of the Lord does not con«
descend to instantaneously convert, Saul of
Tarsus-fashion, a common, every-day sort of
Nineteenth Century widower. When the
second Wife must also be stepmother to
young or half-grown children, her position
is no sinecure. Like the minister’s wife, a
great deal is expected of her. She cannot
in the very nature of things feel for them
that love. half divine, half instinctive, which
the mother gives the children she herself
has brought into the world—a love as bound-
less and immeasurable as space. Affection
must be with her, as with them, a matter of
growth; and it is kindness and good feeling
which awaken and strengthen that growth.
Why should she love strange children unless
they show a willingness to be loved? How
often do you hear of step-children receiving
the new mother with warmth, prepared to
love and honor her? Does she not usually
ﬁnd her reception approximates a white
frost, and her best efforts to win affection
received with coldness or open scorn? There
is one bond to unite them—a love for the
father and the husband, the nucleus about
which must grow a reciprocal love for each
other. If that fails, we see the step-mother
pulling one way and the children the other,
and the miserable man taking sides now
with one, then the other, and painfully con-
scious of his inability to serve two masters.

As regards the management of the chil-
dren of a former marriage by the he iv wife,
it seems to me that a man should not ask a
woman to marry him unless he has taken
into consideration her ﬁtness to control and
care for his motherless children. It is a
double duty he asks of her. His love for
her is certainly important and essential; but
unless he feels sufﬁcient conﬁdence in her
ability, judgment, and faithfulness to be-
lieve she will conscientiously endeavor to ﬁll
the difﬁcult place to which he invites her, he
had better stay a widower. For if the fa-

 
ther refuses or neglects to assist his wife by
his sympathy, or sustain her authority, it
will need frequent reading of the riot act to
preserve peace in that family. It seems to
me that prudence dictates, on the part of the
new mother, a careful, patient justice, at
the outset, and an avoidance of; an open
issue necessitating an appeal to the father’s
authority. She should avoid compelling her
husband to seem to be in any degree alien-
ated from his children; but if a conﬂict does
come, the wife, in the mother’s place, and

istress and ﬁrst in the household, should
be sustained.

D.) the best she may, the stepmother sel-
dom gets the credit of her good intentions.
Sometimes tardy justice is done her. years
after, when experience has taught its les-
sons to those she tried to teach and train.
At best, a geological period 3 only a. Spill
to the patience required to break down pre—
judices and convince reluctant minds of the
nobility and purity of her intentions. Even
her husband may misunderstand her, mis-
taking a wholesome restrain: for tyranny,
or inﬂuenced to unwise indulgence through
the insinuations of neighbors and relatives.

Without doubt nine-tenths of the trouble
with stepchildren is made by outsiders, who
take it upon themselves to criticise'the
match and pity “those poor children,” tell
them what hard times they will have, and
rouse a spirit of antagonism which neutra-
lizes the most conscientious efforts of the
new mother, who is thus jidged before her
offence is committed and condemned with-
out a hearing. They are the most mis-
chievous of all mischief~makers; there are no
words strong enough to expres s the con-
tempt they justify. The heir: of any true
woman is tender toward motherless children.
If she loves her husband, how can she help
resolving to be in very truth a mother to his
little ones? And any woman with a woman-
ly soul within her, or any sense of justice or
honor, should wait until she has had a fair
chance before condemning her, or worse
than all else, prej udicing the minds of those
with whom she must deal. an’s own
children do not always reﬂect credit upon
their plrents, but a stepchild’s wayward-
ness is always laid at the door of the step-
parent.

Under the sting of a family disagreement,
1 once saw a young mother turn to her six
year old daughter, saying sharply: “ Hazel,
if Idle and your papa marries again you
run away; don’t you stay at home to
be abused by a stepmother!” The little
girl’s eyes widened, but she made no reply.
She is an unusually thoughtful, mature
child, and those words, spoken as they

 
THE HOUSEHOLD.

 
were, will he often revolved in that little
brain. Marriages and stepmothers she
knows nothing about now, but she will un-
derstand some day. And a stepmother,
from her childhood up, will have been
something to run away frcmi

A good stepmother is a blessing in many
homes. There would be more such blessings
if they had a fair show. Is it better for
motherlesschildren, girls especially, to grow
up with no womanly tutelage, under the
care of a hired housekeeper or the attention
aman can give them; or, since they have
lost their own mother and natural guardian,
be placed under the care of one who, as their
father’s wife, has every incentive of love
and pride to make her do the best she can
for them? Take the question home to your
own hearts. you mothers, and answer it
honestly; would you not rather, if you must
die and leave little children behind you,
that some good woman should take your
place and bring them up as well as she can,
than have them grow to maturity, knowing
nothing of even pseudo-maternal care?

And you men, who feel you compliment a
woman when you ask her to help bear your
burdens, if in addition to looking after you
she must accept the far greater task of look-
ing after your children, remember that by
offering the situation you implied your be-
lief in her capability to ﬁll the place; and
that you owe a duty to wife and children
not to be discharged by simply giving her
charge of your kitchen. The husband and
father has opportunity for the exercise of
tact and patience and self control; he needs
aﬁrm hand and a strong sense of justice;
conﬁdence and faith in his wife, and un-
bounded love for both wife and children.

BEATRIX.

...____.._QQQ————-

ANOTHER WEEK:

 
As anything in the shape of a diary in-
terests me very much I will try my hand at
keeping arecord of this week’s doings. If
the Editor thinks it worthy of publication, it
will be found no fancy picture, but com-
posed of stubborn facts.

Monday morning lreaily could not see
any chance for washing, so concluded to let
it go until after dinner, so skimmed milk,
fed chickens. washed dishes, made beds,
scaled ﬁsh. baked ﬁve loaves of bread, made
acream pie for dinner (the crust was baked
on Saturday). As the hen houses had just
been cleaned, I took this opportunity to
smoke them with sulphur and resin, then I
put the cloth-es to soak. After the dinner
work was done up and i had enjoyed a little
vacation reading, did the washing and had
everything out of the way just as the clock
struck ﬁve. A neighbor tells me she has
commenced to wash more than once this
winter after the supper work was done up,
and ﬁnished the job, with the clothes on
the line, at two o’clock. As she had a house
full of men she found it a necessity to do
the washing in the night. I picked some
asparagus. and by setting the clock back
ten minutes had supper at six. then went
the round of feeding the chickens, washing
the dishes and taking care of the milk. As
we expect sheep shearers to-morrow, I set
the table for six. It is cold to-night but
cloud y, else there would be danger of a frost.

 
Just as we were going to bed a man came
after a calf. I lay awake until after eleven,
then fell asleep and dreamed of climbing
innumerable fences to get away from Old
Jake.

Tuesday, too cold for any kind of comfort.
I pity the poor sheep to be robbed of
their winter clothes such a day as this;
however one of the shearers washed 38
sheep before he came, was on hand before
six and appeared comfortable and happy.
The ﬁrst thing after each meal I attend to
the wants of my chickens. This morning I
took off a hen with twelve, little chicks,
which makes 108 all told; and all white but
one. The hawks helped themselves too
freely until they had carried off about 20; a
neighbor told me to put out a scare crow. I
did so, and have not missed a chicken since.
To-day I opened a can of mince meat and
made three pies, fried a panful of cakes
and baked a large johnny cake for chicken
food, as I prefer this to uncooked meal. I
baked three kinds of cake on Saturday, a
pork cake, plain stirred cake, a ginger-
bread, I think this will be sufﬁcient to last
this week. This is the way I made the
pork cake, and I think it good. Pour one
pint of boiling water on three-fourths pound
salt pork chopped ﬁne; when cool add two
cups sugar, one cup molasses, ﬁve cups ﬂour,
one teaspoonful soda, one of cream of tartar,
spices to suit the taste, and fruit to suit the
pocketbook. I cooked pork and beans fo
dinner; potatoes, two kinds of pickles, pie,
fried cakes, bread. butter and tea made up
the bill, with seven men to partake. I think
it a great help to keep the table set, when
the dishes are washed replace on the table

ready for the next meal.

Wednesday morning arose at ﬁve, found
it had been raining through the night, pre.
pared breakfast; ham and eggs, potatoes,
graham gems. bread and butter, pickles. tea;
coffee and gingerbread. After breakfast
went the rounds; owing to a slight misun-
derstanding among my hens the clock
pointed to half past seven when I got in the
house again._ There stood the table and
everything just as I left it. This is the only
objection I have to raising poultry. Bridget
never does anything when i am out looking
after the chickens, but let that pass.

As ﬁfteen sheep were under shelter these I

were sheared, and the others were found too
wet to shear until afternoon; seven men to
dinner; a neighbor came in about noon and
Spent the afternoon. I baked ﬁve loaves of
salt rising bread, churned, mopped the
kitchen and did some mending; also made
several journeys to the leach, as I want to
make soap this week. Mrs. O. helped me
with the dishes. We had our knives and
forks nickel-plated last winter, that saves
all scouring.

The FABMER came Tuesday ; HOUSEHOLD
read of course. I would like to ask Evange-
line what was the matter with Philander
that he did not go to town meeting the ﬁrst
day of April. I think she must be an ex-
pert at driving away the mumps; when they
visited us they staid a week. This morning
while picking up the papers scattered on
the table I caught sight of an article headed,
“A Child can Run It,” I at once sat down
and read it through; it expresses my senti-
ments so completely I hope every Housm-

HOLDER will read it. I think eternal vigi-
lance is the price of success in whatever we
may undertake. It is cold enough for a
frost to-night.

Thursday I arose at quarter to ﬁve. The
ﬁrst thing I saw on looking out of the win-
dow was arainbow, high up in the west.
I did not see any frost, but the men said it

however it probably did little harm, as it
rained a little this morning. I did the
ironing, baked beans and rice pudding for
dinner; then as I had some help I took the
opportunity to go to town after a dress that
has been in the hands of the dressmaker at
least six weeks. I thought I would tell the
HOUSEHOLD how it was made, but alas for
human hopes! that dress is not done yet. I
made the mistake of telling them I was in
no hurry. If I had it by the last of May
to wear to the commencement exercises
that would do, but it looks now as though
that will not bring it. When I reached
home it was raining and the men were just
ﬁling out from supper. Mrs. went
home with her husband, and I proceeded to
do up the supper work.

Friday morning I arose at ﬁve. went
through the usual routine, got my soap-
making well started, made four pies, churn-
ed; had eight men to dinner. Bill of fare,
meat with milk gravy and potatoes. bread
and butter, johnny cake, cucumber pickles,
tomato chowder, tea, pieplant pie, ginger-
bread. After dinner rested awhile, then as
to-morrow is the‘ ﬁrst annual meeting of the
L. L. A. I had quite a little summing up to
do. Ten minutes to six the men came in
to supper, eight of them, having sheared the
last sheep. For supper bread and butter,
cold meat and beans, eggs, canned cherries,
fried potatoes, pickles, custard pie, fruit
cake, gingerbread and tea. One of the
shearers remarked at dinner that if we had
got down to johnny cake it was lucky they
were most through. I ﬁnd we are one week
earlier this year than last, but strange to say
the apple trees were in bloom last year at
shearing time, as I remember we had a lively
discussion in regard to the petals of the
apple blossom at the time. and now there
are apples larger than hazel nuts on the
trees. We have 1,750 pounds of wool stored,
waiting for higher prices.

Yesterday when driving to town, in pass-
ing a house, I saw a poor cripple just hitch~
ing a team of horses at the gate; he then
started for the house by walking, if you
could call it such. with one hand on the
ground, the other hold of one foot, lifting it
along at each step. His lower limbs ap-
peared much deformed and quite helpless;
no doubt paralyzed when a child, yet he got
over the ground at a brisk pace.

Saturday I arose w1th the sun; no trouble
to see frost this morning, the grass in
places was frozen stiff. I saw a man in
long black overcoat and gloves standing
quietly on the banks of the brook, presum-
ably angling for trout. Truly the patience
and perseverance of some men are past un-
derstanding. I ﬁnished my soap (good
soap and plenty of it) all but emptying it,
swept and dusted and set things to rights
generally, mended the mop stick, mopped
the kitchen, worked over butter and got

 
dinner. After dinner and its work war

was plain to be seen on the marsh road,‘

 
nanwcnﬂsQ

_-‘k_nA


. sen-2A.,”- -.... _. w .

 
THE HOUSEHOLD.

3

 
over I fed the chickens all around, and
walked to the school house to the annual
meeting of our Library Association. The
time was found too short for the business on
hand, hence we meet again in two weeks.
Reached home at half past six, after the
chores were done and the supper work out
of the way. I feel as though I had been to
the end of the road.

I have some mats made of white table
oil cloth cut the size wanted, the edges
pinked, then worked a little way from the
edge, with colored zephyr, in some fancy
stitch. Perhaps this would be of service
to some one.

As this brings us down to Saturday even-

.ing, May 26th, I will bid you good night.
PLAINWELL. BESS.

——-——“§-—

A CLOUDY WEEK.

 
Now that Evangeline has ﬁnished her
week, I wonder if our friends would not
like to hear something about another one
that was not so full of success and sunshine.
Our folks tried to discourage me about try-
ing to tell anything because 1 don’t under-
stand ﬂowery language, but when a woman
has done all her own house-work; raised
from sixty to a hundred fowls; from six to
ten calves; tended garden and bees every
season; and added a baby to the list pretty
often, for twenty years. she ought to know
something as useful to the public as ﬂowery
language. When I said something like this
to Simon at dinner he tried to get elf a piece
of wit about the daub of ﬂour on my nose,
(I never have time to look in a glass) and I
knew I’d said something remarkable or he’d
never have looked at me close enough to see
it, for, though Simon is a good provider and

worker, and better natured than men will
average, he isn’t one of the everlasting lov-
ers. lie was pretty sickish and soft before
we were married and a while after, but there
was a big mortgage on the farm, and some-
how we soon got to working right along to-
gether, more like a pair of horses than any-
thing else, I o‘ten think. We think enough
of each other but don’t often say much about
it. Well, his wit to-day didn’t raise much
of a laugh, for the dinner was not very
good. When we corned down the beef last
winter we got too much salt in it and it has
to be freshened, and that makes it about as
good as chips. I think most all recipes for
curing meat have more salt than necessary,
and shall try to remember it,especially when
putting down beef to be eaten before warm
weather. Then the bread was poor (and if
I do say it my husband don’t have to eat
that very often). The dough soured and I
worked some soda into a loaf; let it stand
awhile, and baked just before dinner. It
is “middlin’ good” when it is warm, makes
up passable into milk-toast, and is better to
feed to the chickens than if it is baked sour.
It was salt-rising, and I guess it got too cold
while I was out in the garden, for 1 really
got so mad that I forgot all about it. The
currant-worm was just stripping the goose-
berry and currant bushes; the cut-worm was
taking off the tomato and cabbage plants;
there were two or three sorts of worms on
my rose bushes; and something, I couldn’t
see what, was eating the pansy blossoms. I
dosed them all with Paris green, and then

into some milk and fed it to the two cats I
have been fretting at Simon to kill. I felt
awful wicked as I watched them eat it, and
kept the children’s pet back, and was anx-
ious all day for fear they’d go under the
barn to die, or go into ﬁts; and if there is
anything I am really afraid of it is cyclones
and a cat in a ﬁt. I don’t know much about
a cyclone except as I read about it, but a
cat in a ﬁt! You never can guess where it is
going to make a dash next, and I always
climb up on a table, hold my skirts tight
around my feet, and holler for somebody.
Well, my trouble about the cats, like the
heft of all trouble, never came; for they
weren’t sick at all and were just as provok-
ing at supper as ever. I went to bed awful
discouraged and lay awake a long time
thinking over what I ought to do, and won-
dering when I was ever going to get time
for any sewing. If I did that as I ought it
would take all the time; the house work the
same; and if I trained the children as our
writers say they should be, it wouldn’t leave
room for anything else; so I know that in
trying to do all three things at once I don’t
half do any of them; and as the prayer-book
says, “There is no health in us.” Simon
snored and snored as if there was nothing
else in the world to do; and I felt as if no
one cared for me and no one thought I had
any burdens (for I won’t whine), and I cried
alittle and then had to get up to ﬁnda
handkerchief, for nobody but the heroine of
a novel can cry without getting eyes, and
nose, too, in a terrible muss. But after
awhile I fell asleep and dreamed I was go-
ing to the inaugural ball. and couldn’t get
both feet dressed at a time.
To be Continued.

.__._._....————

A BATTLE WITH MOTES.

 
“ 0h mamma, it’s just snowing flowers!”
and involuntarily I reply, “Yes, God hath
remembered the world,” to my little girl’s
exclamation. Everything is so beautiful
with its wealth of bloom this spring morn-
ing. We have faded ﬂowers on the carpet;
fresh ﬂowers are stuck in every hat and bon-
net, not forgetting the baby’s sunhonnet;
the kitchen window sill is covered with old
bottles ﬁlled with ﬂowers, and I notice that
the ugly dandelion looks beautiful when
placed next to a cluster of lovely myrtle
blossoms. Truly children whose homes are
in the country ought to be happy. Let those
who will enj \y Robert Elsmere; I prefer
these glorious evidences of immortality.

We have just ﬁnished house-cleaning, and
I ﬁnd myself wishing that I lived in a log
house, not of the aesthetic sort like Mr.
Palmer's, but the genuine, old-fashioned
article, where I might sit by the window,
piece quilts and take in the whole institution
at a glance. But were I the possessor of
this Acadian simplicity, no doubt I should
be rising before the birds and going to bed
after everybody else that I might build a
house witha parlor, wherein the moths might
hold high carnival and the children never
come, while the mother should have leisure
to paint and otherwise decorate tableoscarfs
with impossible blackbirds hovering over
impossible reeds and waterlilies—all for
what? All for that parlor. And theniwhat?

 
there was about a spoonful left: I put that

  
the sun enter or the moths be disturbed while
they eat up the carpet. My experience is
that they like rich, dark colors as well as
light ones. But I am now able to say that
I have gained a victory over the moths; they
used to be masters of the house, eating even
the rag carpets wherever they touched the
base boards, and when that was taken
away they ate the wall paper. This spring
we have taken up ten carpets, without see-
ing a single moth. My plan has been to
make all paste for wall paper strong with
alum; and while I used to clean a room ﬁrst
and then the ﬂoor, I now do the ﬂoor ﬁrst
by taking a pail of boiling water, to which
has been added half a teacupful of turpen-
tine; this I dash around the room with a
large mop. Of course I never put mv hands
in such a preparation, but I never delegate
that part of the work to any one else, as I
want to know that every seam is ﬁlled With
the water and that it runs under the base-
boards.
Like Beatrix, I dislike to put my clothing
away in strong smelling stuffs; but I do
not like my fur boxes pasted because they
are unsightly during the winter months. I
keep boxes and all in cotton bags made for
the purpose, and have never lost the value
of a cent in furs or clothing, even when the
house was alive with moths. 1 think the
great secret about keeping winter clothing
is to see that no moths are put away with it.
I get enough ready to ﬁll a sack at a time;
shake and beat everything thoroughly, pack
and tie the bag very tight, and never open
again until cold weather calls for the gar-
ments. The bag itself needs washing before
using every spring —at least 1 do it. I often
think that woodsheds are good moth-breedin g
establishments, judging by the old garments
that I see hanging around many of them,
which are too poor to be of any possible use.
With regard to liquid stove blacking, ask
my better half. He returned from a journey
with the announcement that hereafter he
would relieve me of all care in that direction
by doing that job himself, and producing a
can with a brush attached, he informed me
that this had merely to be painted on and
the job was done. " And why,” he asked,
“can women never invent anything them-
selves to save labor, for of course this was
invented by a man?” I quickly cooled the

sitting-room stove and invited him to pro-
ceed. ' Going into the room to see his tri-
umph, I took in the situation at a glance
and rushed for the rag barrel to get some-
thing to wipe the stuff off. Sufﬁce it to say
we have never by our united efforts got a
gOUd polish on that stove since. And when
we built the ﬁre we had to Open every door
and window to let the smoke out; in fact
one man thought best to stop and see
whether we needed assistance in putting out
a ﬁre.

As to liquid shoe polish. will some one
recommend a brand that will not crack the

leather. MRS. W. J. G.

HOWELL.
._——...—-———

To CLEAN A (learns—I want to tell
the HOUSEHOLD readers how to clean a
grater after grating lemons. I used to
think that the worst part of pie-making
until I learned to take it as soon as I am
through using and brush with a whisk broom
from both sides. Every bit of lemon rind
will brush out so it will not be necessary to
wash it unless it is preferred.

 
Why, shut the door and close the blinds lest

DILL A. TORY.


4. THE HOUSEHOLD.

 
WHICH?

 
“ There are gains for all our losses,
There is balm for all our pain;
But when youth—the dream, departs,
It takes something from our hearts,
And it never comes again.

“ Something beautiful has vanished,
And we sigh for it in vain;
And we seek it everywhere
On the earth and in the air,
But it never comes again.

“ We are stronger and are better,
Under manhood’s sterner reign,
But we know that something sweet
Followed youth with ﬂying feet,
And will never come again.”

Ever since the creation has that little
winged god Cupid roamed the earth with
bow and arrows. And when he aims at a
target, he never falls short of the mark. So
love is natural; the heart will cling to some-
thing, and it must be that it is nearest to.
Marriage isa divine ordinance. The poet
paints the beauties and blushes of the bride.
The bark of matrimony, freighted with love
that has never known a test, wreathed with
ﬂowers, showered with kind wishes, advice
and rejoicing, is launched on the sea of Ex-
periment. The happy couple think that
there are no high waves, tempestuous
storms, no dead calms, but always a placid
surface, with smiles for ripples. But life is
terribly real, and when life’s realities do
come there also comes the discovery of
traits of character in each other that are
perfectly astonishing.

There is more or less dissimilation in
courtship. Each appears at his or her best.
If we are striving to make a good impres-
sion we use every art in our power. One
yields to the other gracefully, it scarcely
seems like self-denial, as lovers one caters
to the other’s tastes. How easy it is to
yield a point! The supposition is that as
long as life lasts it will be just that easy.
But after marriage, when the wedding tour
is over, after the calls are returned, business
resumed, how is it? The honeymoon never
over, life a long unbroken dream?

Married people do not always ﬁnd out the
mistake that has been made on the start;
that comes with the years. There is nearly
always the usual happiness in getting the
home, the mutual comfort in gathering
things about the home to make it attrac-
tive, the mutual love of the little ones, if
any are given, the little bow knots that
should rivet the marriage vow stronger. than
ever. The love that has heretofore existed
between the two seems to centre about the
child. The love that has been so freely
lavished upon each other now ﬁnds another
channel; there is a new object of interest.

Allowing me to give my opinion, there is
a wide difference between the love that a
» wife gives her husband and the love the
mother gives her child. To some it is denied
ever to know mother love, to feel the little
clinging hands, the blessed presence of a
babe. When I said “There is no love
like mother love,” I believed it; I do to-
day. For months before the birth of the
child there is sulfering, there is self-denial,
aconstant giving for its life and growth.
There is a terrible anxiety, as the mother
goes down to the very grave for her child;
there is no suffering so terrible as that; and
out of that anxiety, that suffering, that
agony, is born that love that endures for-
ever, that nothing will ever eiface or change;

a love that makes us bear with our chil-
dren’s faults to overlook, to forgive.

We cannot measure another’s strength
or weakness. The woman who through life
has had the love of a husband lavished upon
her, as she sees the life go out, the form still
and dead, can truly say “ He was all I had,
there was never love like ours.” I believe
her. But with just as much propriety can
the young mother say, as her beautiful
darling lies in the casket, as she realizes
that never again can she clasp him to her
bosom, draw draughts of love from the
depths of his innocent eyes, feel the pressure
of the soft baby hands, listen to the cooing
voice. “I can never hear it. It is cruel; I
loved him so.” We cannot measure another’s
sorrow. We read of Roman mothers buck-
ling on the armor, sending their young sens
forth to battle, to death. The love of
country was as great as love of child.

I was reading not long since about a
wife who went to the J oliet State prison to
see her husband who was in for a long term
of years. In a ﬁt of drunkenness he had de-
stroyed her eyesight for life, she must al-
ways live in total darkness. He was sick
in the hospital ward and she went to see
him, being led there by a friend. Again and
again she expressed her love for him, say-
ing that he was not himself at the time, and
expressing her determination to live with
him again when his term should have ex-
pired. This was the love of a noble woman,
alove that saw only the best part of his
nature; that will live through time and
eternity. We read of the faithful mother,
who bearing for years disgrace and trouble
through an only son, ﬁnally succeeded in
bringing him home, in reforming him, clos-
ing his eyes in Death’s peaceful sleep.

Every one has a cross to bear, world, sin
and sorrow laden; and quite frequently from
those we cherish most comes the heaviest
burden. I attended the funeral once of an
aged woman; her husband had died several
years before: no children had ever been
born to them. Their lives had been passed
in the accumulation of property, and no
doubt they had taken comfort in their way.
Not a tear was shed, there were no near
friends to mourn for her, and as the ccﬂin
was carried out of the front door, down the
front yard, out through the gate, away from
the home which she had entered a happy
bride, I could not help voicing the thought
that when 1 came to die I hoped my chil-
dren would be around me, that a sincere
tear would fall when I was carried to my
long re sting place.

But I should never advise any one to lie
awake nights, trying to make out which she
could best Spare, husband or child. for you
will never know which grief is the greater
until you are called to mourn. We are so
constituted that no matter how large the
family, there is a placein the mother’s heart
for each one, and no one can take the
other’s place; and I am sure if the Heavenly
Father sent his Death Angel into my
household, with the message “Choose which
shall be taken, husband or child, for one
must die?”, I should say “They are all
precious in my sight, I cannot choose be-
tween my loved ones‘.” When woman truly
loves she yields a good deal; the purest and
best of her nature is given. With the years

 
. '_~-~...--_ __ .

 
the rose leaves the cheek, the roundness

and symmetry of youth are lost. To the

husband who looks through lover’s eyes-

these signs of age are not observed. But I
don’t know but that 1 would as soon run.
my chances with children remaining con-
stant and faithful as a husband, for the
papers are full of old people ﬁnding out that
the yhad made a mistake—incompatibility,
etc., and who want a divorce. And the
cases are many where the man skips for
Canada with the money from the bank and

a good looking woman, leaving his wife-

with the children.
BATTLE CREEK.
W
FARMERS’ OUTINGS.

EVANGELINE.

 
If farmers and their families can have out.
ings at all, what should they be? Some of
our neighbors spent a week at Houghton
Lake ﬁshing this spring; came home with a
barrel of ﬁsh, faces sunburned till they were
blistered, and tired to death. I have spent

aweek at a time living in a tent on the.

shores of Higgins Lake, and as the prepar-
ation of the meals depended on me I did
the same work as at home, only minus home
conveniences. As I folded up our blankets
preparatory to leaving, and shook a long
and particularly lively green snake out of
the special blanket that had covered me the
night before, I resolved against that kind of
dissipation any more. But I wish you could
all have seen Higgins Lake, as I did, before
any of the pine was cut from its shores. It
was a beautiful place.

Sometimes we have combined business
and pleasure and made a trip to Traverse
City, overland route, going one day and com-
ing back the next. Would start early in
the morning, stopping at noon to take our
lunch and feed our horses in a lonely, pleas:
ant spot on the banks of Boardman River,
arriving at Traverse City at three o’clock.
Going s raight to my room at the hotel I
would exchange the long ulster and sunbon-
net, that were just right for along, dusty
ride, for a fresh; street costume that I had
brought with me, and my best hat and
glove s, and go forth to do my shopping.
Dressed right in style? Certainly, or if I
wasn’t, didn’t know it and so was just as
happy. But the long ride prevented these
from being exactly gala days.

A break in the monotony of their lives is
just as needful to farmers’ families as to
other people, though 1 don’t think they long

very much for a few days’ nearer communion
with nature; anyway, 1 think just now that
to board a week or two at a large hotel in a
large city with the sharer of. my joys and
sorrows, and go the theatre every evening, is
the kind of a summer rest I am yearning
for.

I enjoyed reading Evangeline’s “ week,”
for the tellingr of all the little things of every-
day life made it seem like a genuine home
record. That is an example to be followed
in Writing home letters: it is telling the
triﬂing things that give to those who read a
clear idea of our surroundings. But, Evan-
geline, how do you suppose Philander ﬁrst
happened to get dyspepsia?

I hoped that some one who could better
than 1 would say a word of counsel or cheer
to A. B. C. I have only this, which sounds
old and commonplace, but yet is true: For-
getting ourselves in working for the comfort
and happiness of others will surely bring
peace, and there is little of good impossible
to unselﬁsh love. HULDAH PERKINS.

Promma

 
v—maw-p mau- ,