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DETROIT, CCT. 5, 1889.

 

 

THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

WHAT SHE SAID AN!) WHAT SHE DID.

 

" I never will. marry," she said—she said—
“ Unless a young man that just suits me I find;
Taller than I by at least half a head
He surely must be. with a face bright and kind:
His eyes I‘d prefer of a vielet blue,
His hair a light brown or a very warm gold;
He must sing—a fine tenor—and dance nicely,too,
And tell as good staries as ever were told.
No smoking allowed, for the weed i detest,
And of course no remarks that are rude or ill-
bred;
And I’d ‘ike him to be always stylishly dressed,
The young man I marry,” she said—she said.

And then the maid married—she did, she did—
A th ree-score-old fellow much shorter than she,
Who wore a short wig thav but awkwardly h d
A pate that no balder could possibly be;
And his voice was a creak, and he danced like a
bear,
And his nose it was red, and dull gray were
his eye“,
And he’d sit by the hour and stupidly stare,
And he never said anything witty or wise,
And he smoked a clay p’pe, and from morning
till night
In his mouth held of strongest tobacco a quid;
And he dressed—but enough, he had two mil-
lions, quite,
And she married him gladly—she did, she did.
—Earper's Bazar.

—__-,.—..*——-

ART AT THE EXPOSITION.

 

In the right wing of the Art Gallery on
the Exposition grounds was hung Mun-
kacsy’s famous painting, “ The Last Hours
of Mozart,” owned by Gen. R. A. Alger,
of this city, and valued at $40,000.
Whether due to design or accident, the
choice of position was most happy. The
visitor, who would naturally turn to the
right on entering the gallery, saw first the
sombre sadness of this pathetic dc ath—bed
scene, and later, as he was going away,
Makoflski’s equally famous and valuable
“Russian Wedding Feast,” in the left
wing. Death and a feast! Two greater
contrasts could hardly exist. Groups of
gay sight-seers entered the right wing full
of mirth and high spirits; before them sat
the dying Mozart surrounded by his
friends who had come at his desire for a
last rehearsal with their beloved master—a
final rendition of the requiem he finished
as he lay dying, and for which one can
almost fancy he caught the echoes of
celestial harmonies from the unclosing gates
of Paradise. This picture was verj fully
described in the HOUSEHOLD of July 4th,
1887, at which time Gen. Alger very gen-
erously allowed to be placed on public ex-
hibition in this city, hence it is notneces
sary to describe it again at this time. It is
a great painting, and one is quickly con-

 

vinced of the fact by noting the effect upon
those who see it. Groups of gay girls with
attendant beaux, gossiping women, men
talking “horse” or business, chattering
children, entered, riant with youth and
energy, full of their own concerns, only to
stop short, as the motive of the painting
dawned upon them, awed into silence, as
one would be if suddenly introduced into a
death-chamber. Some went away after a
brief survey, others remained to study, but
all, I thought, went out a little more in
touch with the “art spirit ”—that quiet,
contemplative, somewhat subdued feeling
-—most favorable to the study of pictures
or statuary. We must bring ourselves into
harmony with them if we wish to enjoy
paintings, or I might add, music.

The main hall of the gallery was filled
with paintings of various degrees of merit.
Most were fairly good, some were excellent.
two or three atrocious, reminding one of the
“lightning artist’s” handiwork. There
were two lovely landscapes by Eastman
Jones, which deserved better treatment at
the hands of the hanging committee. Two
flower pieces, Mermet roses on pale blue,
and a jar of Chrysanthemums, were beauti
ful; the lady in copper colored satin won
many compliments on the manner in
which the satin of her dress was painted,
and there were a number of beautiful
landscapes, quiet, pastoral scenes, well
handled. The picture which in the opinion
of many seemed to rival the “ \Vedding
Feast” was Haberlc’s cabinet of coins.
“Real or painter ” was the question, and
indeed it was a question. Were the can-
celed stamps, the worn bank bills and
“shinplastcrs,” the half scraped-off news-
paper item, the tintype and the photograph
examples of the artist’s skill, or were they
really and truly pasted against the cabinet
door? And I think more than one went
away but half convinced that they were
counterfeit presentments. The artist is
famous in this line, and one of his feats
was to paint, upon the counter of abar, a
five dollar bill so cleverly that more than
one covetously inclined person slyly at-
tempted to pick it up. The want of ap-
parent harmony between the title in
the catalogue~“Grasshopper”—and the
picture with the corresponding number at-
tached provoked some amusing comments.
One gentleman, while his companion was
searching the catalogue for the number
said: “ Oh, don’t you see! why that’s
‘Driven from Home’ or ‘Forsaken’ or
some such thing. She’s sitting on the
doorsteps in the cold, you see.” When he

 

was showed the title, “Grasshopper,” he
looked'very much disconcerted, and mut-
tered “ Some mistake somewhere.” An
old French fable, “ La Cigale,” furnished
the theme for this. During the summer
the grasshopper frolickcd and had a gay
time, and jecred the industrious ant who
was busy providing for the future; but
when the chilly days came and the ground
was snow-covered, the starving grasshop-
per begged admittance to the ant’s house,
only to be reminded of her own improvi-
dence and jests, and here she is, in her
gauzy summer attire, sitting disconsolate
in the snow, waiting to die.

But the “Russian Wedding Feast ” was,
as it was advertised to be, the great attrac-
tion of the gallery. Many had seen Mun-
kacsy’s picture, but this was new to all.
And from the pathos of the “last rehearsal ”
and the mediocrity of the main collection,
it was delightful to enter into the spirit of
a feast—and such-a feast!

The scene is a wedding feast among the
Boyars of Russia, corresponding in social
station to the baronial class of Great
Britain, people of distinction, rich and in-
fluential. The time is the seventeenth
century; and the banquet hall corresponds
with the architecture of the period, low,
with heavy beams overhead, showing that
their luxury of personal belongingsdid not
extend to the construction of their homes;
the windows deeply recessed, having small
diamond-shaped panes through which the
sunlight makes a lattice pattern upon the
dark stone walls. The moment chosen is
that of the unveiling of the bride before the
groom, who sees her then for the first time,
and the wedding guests. Marriages
among the Boyers at that time were ar-
ranged by the relativcs of the contracting
parties, all questions of rank, dowry
and expediency being settled for the
young couple, affection having nothing to
do with the choice. By an ancient custom
the groom first beholds his wife at the
wedding feast, which was made an oc-
casion for the display of much magni.
ficence. In the picture the boyish, beard-
less groom is bending forward to look into
the face of his just wedded Wife, his ex-
pression that of eager curiosity and in-
terest, mingled with deference. She stands
at the head of the table, in profile, her
countenance expressive of timidity, modesty
and maidenly dignity. It is abeautiful,
refined, delicate face; even the stiffness of
the pearl-bordered tiara above it cannot
mar its loveliness. The wedding robe is of
rich brocade, exquisitely painted. The

 


  
 
 
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
   
  
  
  
 
  
  
   
   
   
   
  
  
   
  
    
  
    
    
  
   
   
  
  
  
 
   
 
   
 
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
   

 

 

    

2 THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

 

old nurse stands partly behind her, and
seems to be encouraging her to be brave.
About the table are seated the guests, on
benches instead of chairs, the men on one
side, the women on the other; a heavy robe
of Russian sable thrown over one of the
benches is so wonderfully imitated you
feel certain its soft pile would give under
your touch. Alittle girl is leaning her
folded arms, child fashion, on the table,
her eyes intently bent upon the bride; the
face of the Woman next her is dimpled and
smiling, but the dark eyes 0' her neighbor
are turned upon the bride in no friendly
glance; jealousy and dislike are written
there, it is the face of a rival. The men
have given all their attention to the figure
at the head of the table; one, bearded like
a pard, holds a massive wine cup in his
hand; his coarse, somewhat sensual face is
in full light. He might utter some broad
jest, with the license of the times, but for
the purity and innocence of that sweet
brideface; his neighbors, too, seem equally
impressed by the same qualities. In the
perspective a man with reddish hair sur-
veys the bridal pair with scowling eyes
under heavy brows; he too seems to find
something unpalatable in the union. Opv
posite him is one of the loveliest faces in
the picture, though few, I find, search
diligently enough to discover it in the
dimness of the background. A servant is
bringing in a superb swan, hearing it aloft
on a great salver. (“Get on to the goose,
Mary!” I heard a man behind me say.)

All the costumes are rich and elaborate;
the women wear quaint head-dresses, some
of which are bordered with pearls or con-
fined by jewels. While the picture gives
you the idea of luxury and magnificence,
all the tones are subdued, In the back-
ground is the sacred shrine common to
every Russian family, before which candles
are burning.

And so, leaving this counterfeit scene of
mirth, one went out again into the real
jollity that prevailed among the crowds in
attendance on the Exposition, ready to
join in it. I find, on reading over the
account in last week’s HOUSEHOLD of what
was to be seen in the Exposition that the
half was not told. But to tellabout it “ the
day after” is too much like thinking of
yesterday’s dinner. Everybody unites in
saying it was a grand show; and next year
make up your mind to come and see with

your own eyes, not those of
BE trRIx.

W

OUR TRIP.

 

We hesitated and debated a good deal
about going to the Exposition, and it was
a pinch to afford it; for the drouth has put
back our seeding, and the corn and clover
seed amount to just nothing. But our
orchard turned out pretty well, and when
we sold its fruit for three hundred dollars
we made up our mind to go; especially as
people began to come back from it and
tell what a big show it was. I thought I’d
take a lunch to lessen expense, and had
Phil kill a hen that had begun to set; I
cooked and pressed that, made some bis-

filled up a pretty good sized basket. At
first Simon said he wouldn’t lug it round,
but I figured up what we would have to
pay for meals, and asked if he didn’t think
he’d make fair wages doing it, and he
gave up; but I noticed he took up the
basket and sort of slapped it down some-
times in a way to let me know how he felt
about carrying it, but I didn’t care, there
was nothing in it to hurt, and it was some
relief to him to act so. Well, I didn’t
sleep a wink the night before; we started
at three o'clock and got to the Exposition
just as it was waking up. There is no use
telling what we saw for everybody knows.
Simon had never seen any nice pictures
before, and he said “ I vum” and “ I goll!”
til: I saw some city people laughing at him,
and then I whispered to him to keep still
and try to act as if he had seen a thing or
two before. He was cross for a minute
and said he was glad his wife could put on
airs and knew enough for two. That hurt
my feelings alittle, but I will stick to it
that a person ought to have pride enough
to behave his best and try to remember
what little he does know when he goes to
such a place. I could not make Simon be-
lieve that the old money and litter was
painted instead of pasted on the cupboard
door. He could see some of the edges
sticking up a little loose, and will never be-
lieve that it was anything but a sell. I
were new shoes and about noon I thought
my corn would kill me every step I took.
We found some chairs and sat down and
ate our lunch, and rested awhile, and when
we started off we looked back, and there,
on the wall, right over our heads, was a
sign to “Eat no lunches on these seats.”

, We tramped around another hour or two,
and then I gave up and said I couldn’t walk
another step, so we concluded to go to
Belle Isle (it only cost ten cents) and we
could rest on the boat and still keep seeing.
The Island is a lovely place. Mr. Casino
has a fine house there, and keeps his Walks
and flower beds in perfect order. One of
the flower beds in front of his house looks
just like the block of a bed quilt. While
we sat on one of the rustic seats on a bridge
we overheard a dudish looking fellow in-
quire of a workman the way to “the
Theological Park,” and after repeating the
question two or three times explained that
he meant the place where the animals were
kept. This pleased us both, for, if I do
say it, we don’t belong to the “singed cat”
order, I taught district school when I was
a girl, and Simon, if he doesn't show it, has
a pretty good education. He Will not read
the HOUSEHOLD though; says he hears
enough of it from me, he just measured
Evangeline’s “ Plea” with his eye and said
it was too “ tarnation long,” so whatever I
write about him never hurts his feelings,
for he never reads it. “Tell, we stay (1
around that island till the next boat whistl-
ed and then hurried, and then Simon
swung the basket at them and I waved the
umbrella, but they left us to worry and
wait through what seemed a long hour.
But it paid after all, for when we did go
back the lights over the ci y shone down

 

cuit and cake, filled a can with tea, and

never saw anything so beautiful. We
reached home about ten, tired to death,
glad to get where we could turn around
without hitting some one, and went to
bed glad that we had been to the city and
gladdcr yet that we didn’t have to live
there. I‘ve always held my head up
pretty well about being a country 'woman,
and said I could not see why it wasn‘t just
as much to be proud of as of being a city
woman, but that day I felt ashamed of my
class; for I could hear them everywhere
going on about that “ Chamber of Horrors,”
calling it splendid, advising others to see
it, and describing the scenes there until I
shuddered with disgust; and more than
once turned away from some woman
dressed in silk and plush, and thought of
my bright schoolmate Bess who used to
refer to such people as being “awfully

poor inside of them.”
SIMON’S WIFE.

 

ABOUT FRUIT-CANNING.
Although Mrs. E., of Grand Blanc, has
had plenty of advice in regard to her fruit-
canning, I do not think any one has come
to the right conclusion. I think all her
trouble lies in the sugar she used. If the
syrup of which the sugar was made had
begun to ferment, and the maker put in
lime or some other alkahne substance to
make it grain it did not kill the germs of
fermentation, only caused them to lie dor-
mant until there was moisture enough to
revivify them. when they will make every
thing foam in the effort to generate ‘
alcohol, which is the essence of death, be-
cause it is never there until life is gone;
putrefaction begins and decomposition ends
the scene.

Now I will tell how I can fruit. Being
over ripe or rather green makes little or no
difference. I prepare the fruit as for s‘ew-
ing, put it in as large a kettle as the
quantity of fruit I have will fill; then if
dry put in water until I can see it, set the
kettle on the stove, heat through thorough-
ly, when it begins to boil dip from the
boiling side into the cans and quickly turn
the covers perfectly tight.

Now about the cans: When the cans are
emptied wash them perfectly clean, covers‘
and rubbers; dry them, put on the rubbers
and turn on the covers, then no mould
germs can get into them. When you wish
to use them open one at a time, drop the
cover into the pan of boiling water, roll the
can over once or twice in the boiling water;
then fill up with fruit, turn on the cover,
set wherefithe wind will not blow on it until
it cools, then put it in the cellar in the
darkest, dryest place there is, and I think it
will keep until it is eaten.

I never put sugar in the cans for the
reason given; if fermentation progresses so
slowly that it only makes wine of it, alcohol
is there just the same, which makes the
fruit anyth'ng abut healthful for body or
mind.

Perhaps {I have not'_ made it plain about

the boiling water. I turn the water from
the boiling teakettle into the pan to fill it
about half the height of the can when set-
ting on the bottom. ALZAIDA.

 

J and down into the river, and I thought I

  

,OLrvm'.

 

 


 

 

THE HOLTSEHOLD.

3.

 

OVERDOING KINDNESS.

 

Is it not to be supposed that Mrs. E., of
Grand Blane, will be equally as glad and
feel like holding up both hands.and saying
enough! enough! For with all the many
different ways of canning and caring for
fruit she ought tO feel perfectly safe to un-
dertake it another summer. And about
those “ horrid husbands” of whom so
much has been said of late, I should like
to ask how many would like to give them
up, now hands up! Methinks I don’t
see any. Oh no! they do come handy
sometimes. As for me I should much rather
show up the good traits (if by chance he
has any) of my bigger half, than like the
chronic grumbler be always finding fault
with o e I have chosen for my life long
companion. And of the three short years
of my wedded life there is no one we (my-
self and five-months-old daughter) miss as
we do the one who always greets us w th a
cheerful smile. And why? Is it because
he is always greeted with a complaint of
something he is unable to help? No, the
reverse. If the cows have got in the wrong
pasture, or the pigs have become too
familiar with the cornfield while he has
been away, I simply tell him of it and go
with him and help if he needs any. But
Polly would think he was the most un-
fortunate being, or one of them at least,
for he had the “ill luck” to be elected
pathmaster of this district this spring, and
the readers of the HOUSEHOLD remember
her saying “Pathmasters had little or no
sense.” But we will forgive Polly for
being so cruel, for she wished every one to
know she had a new carriage, and that sh e
had the cleaning of it. CLO. 8. PIN.

OAKLEY.
--—-—‘oo——

A HOME-MADE RUG.

The rug question has gone to sleep, but
just for once I thought I would awaken it.
A friend of mine has the prettiest and best
one of home make that I ever saw, and I
thought I would describe it to the HOUSE-
HOLD, and perhaps some one will wish to
try it. When you think your ingrain or
three-ply carpets are past their usefulness,
rip up and wash, then cut in strips about
one and a quarter inch wide, with the warp,
and ravel a third on each side of the strip
and leave the other third of the warp to
hold the filling firm, then lap and sew to-
gether. Catch down the ends so it will
not ravel out the filling. wind in balls and
take to your weaver and when done you
will feel nicely over your old carpet in its
new form. I have seen two or three breadths
sewed together for the center of a room,
while other carpets can be used for the
outside of the room, thus making a nice
carpet out of two Old ones with harmoniz-
ing colors. The warp needs to be about
one-fourth as thick as for rag carpet. The
weaver twists slightly as she weaves it in,
which causes all the fringe to come on the
outside, where it will “ do the most good.”
I think five pounds will be sufficient for a
rug thirty inches Wide and one and a half
yards long. Of course one can have them
any width desired; have a border across

 

the ends if you wish, and some tie in the
ravelings for a fringe. When done you
will have a plush rug an inch thick.

I have a warm corner in my heart for the
little HOUSEHOLD that comes to us every
week filled with so many interesting things
to help us through many of the hard days.
And how thankful we all have reason to be
for many useful hints to us who live away
out in “ W'ayback,” and have so many in-
conveniences to put up with! It is restful
to pick up the little paper and, as we often
do, see that we do not have all the hard
things ourselves. \Ve should remember
that there is nO home without an occasional
shadow, and that none Of us poor mortals
are without fault; if we were I’m afraid
the wings would be growing to fly us
away. It is when we are overtired and
nervous that we forget and speak

“ Only a word ort so any be, born in a th >11ght-
less b ain,
Bearing away in its bosom seed of a terrible
pain,”

and that pain will last until we have taken
it all back, for who of all our acquaint-
ances are so dear as our loved ones around
our own fireside, where kind affection
make: amends for all deficiencies? Do not
envy Evangeline; she has sorrows and
trials like the rest of the world, but she has
a cheery way of keeping them out Of sight.
She makes all welcome and shows you that
she wants you to be happy in her pleasant
home. She has very efficient help the year
around, which smooths out the wrinkles
wonderfully and makes many things pos-
sible for her. Come and we will drive ove
the ten miles of dust and visit her. There!
now I expect I’ll get a scolding so I’m
going. MARGARET.
CALHOUN.

—————99*——

ONE DINNER.

 

I must give you my “ say ” on the table-
cloth and oilseloth question. I should
have kept silent had it not been for the
articles writen by Beatrix and S. J. B.,
but now I must speak. Being away on
business once, I by chance passed the
residence of an acquaintance and thought
I would call, and did so. It happened to
be near their dinner hour and as they
pressed me to dine with them, and would
take no refusal, I consented. As I was
shown to the dining-room by the young
lady of the house, I took a “look around”
and this is part of what I saw: Their
table was placed in a room called the
kitchen, but more properly termed a “store
room.” As I took my assigned place at the
table my hostess said “Had I known you
were coming I should have set the other
table,” meaning the table in the dining-
room. On one side of the room was an
old fashioned safe; on the top Of it were
tin pans, cake dishes, abutter bowl, sieve.
one or two drippers and a pan of apples;
on the other wasalong board extending
the length of the room, on which was
placed some baking dishes, out of which a
goodly lot of flies were getting their dinner
(there were no screens; the head Of the
family “don’t like screens ”). For dinner
we had fried pork warmed over, gravy in
which several unfortunate flies had found

 

their death, boilei potatoes which were
water-soaked, sour bread, (which was
caused by the flour not beinggofl, as is al-
ways the case when on: has pair bread)
Cake, cookies and pie. B'li it was served
on a tablecloth which could have stood
alone, not an oilcloth, There were no
dogs under the table, but there were five
or six eats all around the table waiting to
be fed.

Now I do not think an oileloth just the
thing on which to spread a meal, but I do
prefer a clean oilcloth to a nasty table-
cloth any day. Anvl when one sickly
woman or one frail girl with only a sickly
mother‘s help has to do all the housework
and sewing for a large family—and there
are many such—I think they are justified
in using an oilcloth, when it saves washing
an .l ironing two or three large tablecloths.
lVe all know that men working in the dust
and dirt soil everything th-tt they or their
clothes touch, it is impossible under such
circumstances to use less than two cloths
in a week; then too hired help do not al-
ways eat like Christians.

Th;tnk-, Beatrix, for “\Vhat Shall we
Wear ” in the IIOL'eruOLD of Sept 7th. It
raised a large load from my mind and
now I have a neat dress out Of one that I
did not know what to do with.

there are all the girls? I have not
seen a letter in print from any of them in a.
long time. Beatrix, please tell us how to
do our hair; do you think it good taste to
wear fancy combs and pins in the hair on
the street? If this does not find its grave
in the big b sket I may dare to speak
again. erxrn WtrrrrNG.

AZALIA
—__Q..__.____

THE COTTON-B ATTING- PROCESS.

 

I see in our last HOUSEHOLD that Mrs. E.
is surfeited with advice on the canning
question, but as no one has said just what
I want to, I shall say my little say. Last
year the papers were full of the cotton-
batting method and I tried a number of
cans, principally defective ones, in that
way with good success, not losing one.
Fill the cans with boiling fruit, screw on
the top, no matter if there is a hole in it or
it is minus a rubber, tie over it three or
four thicknesses of cotton batting; use
plenty of string. It is exasperating tO find
after filling the cans that they will leak
just a little bit, as we know that means
emptying, scalding over and refilling.
“rhea you get in that predicament tie the
batting over tightly, even if you didn’t
mean to; and your fruit will keep all right.
In this way one can utilize the old fashioned
cans, even those with corks. This year when
sugar is so high if we can save buying new
cans it is quite an item. The batting can
be used again provided it does not come
in contact with the fruit.

Does any one know what will give relief
in hay fever?

An excellent remedy for eroup is
powdered alum and molasses. Take as
much alum as will go on the point of a
penknifc blade to a teaspoonful of molasses;
repeat the dose if necessary.

CEBESCO. MRS. NO NAME.

 


  

 

   
  
 

 

THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

 

HOME AGAIN.

‘Wonder if any one has missed “ Mae?”

TiProbably the most of the HOUSEHOLD
:readers have forgotten me, as it- is nearly
two years since I wrote to the little paper.
One day in December, nearly two years
ago, I made a sudden decision to go
"‘east.” Then for a week there was a
whirl of preparation, and January 3, 1888,
at four P. M. I found myself on board
the C. & G. T. train. We were late in
starting and kept being delayed until on
reaching Suspension Bridge we could not
make connections. and a tedious wait of
two and one-half hours, ensued. How-
ever it passed, and I was again on my way
only to find on arrivingat Rochester that I
must wait till morning to reach Canan-
. daigua, my destination.

Arrived at Canandaigua at nine o’clock

”the next morning. NO cousin to meet me
as had been planned, he having been down
the night before. So I proceeded to hunt
up another cousin who lived in town, and
there my country cousin found me shortly
:after.

I spent many a pleasant day in Hopewell

township and the pretty village of Canan-
-:daigua. But in all of that year I never
saw the IIOL’SEHOLD. On my way home
in January, 1889, I stopped a few days in
Detroit, and should certainly have visited
Beatrix hadI had time. I found many
new names in the HOUSEHOLD and some
Old familiar ones. E. L. Nye, I always in-
tended to call on you, but waited for a
convenient time to do so, and now you
have left us. Is it too late for congratu-
lations from a HOUSEHOLD sister? Simon‘s
'Wife, let me whisper to you. The next
time you buy nice summer dresses for
those girjs get white. It may cost a trifle
more at first, but witha little attention
each year to keep them stylish they will
last a long time, and be no harder to wash
and iron than those ginghams that

“pinked the whole tub-full.” And girls
look so pretty in white.

I had a good mind to write a “week”
too, but Beatrix called ahalt before I could
get time enough away from those six men
(carpenters) to write at all. I wish I knew
Keturah; that is my “pet name” down
east. Some time when my letter is not so
long I will tell you something of my visit
in New York State. MAE.

FLINT.

TIRESOME CALLERS.

 

'Ilike to have company. I enjoy having
a neighbor come in and chat awhile, bring—
ing a whiff of outside air, a new view of
some topic of interest, a bit of her own ex-
;perience, or of the happiness or sorrow that
is day by day making her life history. But
when she has told her story I confess I
want her to go about her business and let
- me attend to mine. I am not so dull of ap-
- prehension that, having once heard a
smatter, it must be told me again and again.
iatud heaven defend me from the woman
who, as the poet sang of the bore, “ comes
but never goes.”

 

grand sweep of my sitting room and was
just thinking, at a quarter after nine, that
I had ample time to wipe the carpet and
the blinds, polish off the woodwork and
get everything in apple pie order by half
past ten sure, when a tap came on the door
and I opened it to disclose my neighbor
over the way, who peeped in and said “ Oh
you’re busy! Well I won’t stay but a
minute,” and Without invitation in she
came. My heart went down into my slip-
pers, for I know her to be an inveterate
talking machine, and I saw she was
“wound up” for some important com-
munication. She took the big easy chair
which was shrouded in an Old sheet, and I
leaned up against the mantle and balanced
the duster on my finger, hoping if I didn’t
sit down she would take the hint and not
stay long. But she talked and talked and
tel/ml, till in sheer weariness I had to get a
chair from an adjoining room. All about
her own affairs, and “the Company ” and
“ my husband he ” till nob idy knows how
I longed to put my fingers in my ears and
say “ Rats! ” And it was not until twenty
minutes past eleven that after saying good-
bye three times, she got away! There it
was, an hour to dinner, furniture all piled
in the adjoining room, beds not made, and
I in slippers and sweeping-cap, the morn-
ing I had meant to make such good use of,
gone, frittered away worse than uselessly,
and the forenoon’s work left to drag over
into the afternoon! I have no apology to
Offer my conscience for saying, under my
breath, “ I hate a fool!” as I shu: the door
after my decidedly fatiguing caller. And
I had to hurry so to get things in even a
semblance of order before dinner, that I
was all tired out, breathless and perspiring.

Such experiences have been a lesson to
me, for I believe in doing to others as I
like to be done by. I never make morning
calls, except upon business and on people
whom I know have leisure. And if I
chance to find any one busy, I hope I have
common sense enough not to sit down and
hinder them whileI pour into their tired
ears the thrice told narrative of my own
personal affairs, in which they can have but
the slightest interes‘. It is a dreadful
strain on one’s politeness to be courteous to
such a caller as was mine that unlucky
day. BRUXEFILLE.

____._.uo_._._.__
FALL AND WINTER CLOAKS.

 

The jacket, in spite of predictions, holds
its own and more as an outside garment
for autumn and winter wear. It is con-
venient, comely, becoming to most figures,
and relatively cheaper than any other
model, hence its popularity. The ready-
made jackets are of Jersey or stockinet,
fine diagonal or smooth faced cloth, or of
the rough bouele cloth and Astrachan that
were slightly out of favor last year, but
have returned this season. The plain
models are at once the most economical
and most stylish; an excess of ornament
should be avoided. Choose a double-
breasted coat, with two rows of stitching
finishing the edge, and flat cloth buttons

The other morning I had concluded a . about the size of a quarter of a dollar;

 
 
 

this is a simple, stylish—if it fits you and
is becoming—and convenient. garment.
Jackets are longer all round than last year
and fit smoothly over the hips. Some of
them have open fronts with waistcoat set
in; others are plain but trimmed with fur
on the cuffs and collar, and sometimes a
vest of fur is added. Single breasted coats
of what is known as three-quarter length
are sometimes braided in the corners, vests,
cuffs and in yoke shape around the neck,
but this length is not usually becoming.
Astrachan, bouele, bourette, and other
rough-surfaced goods are to be made up in
such jackets and coats, and come at from
$3.50 to $7 and $8 per yard. But if one
can be fitted it is much better to buy a
ready made garment than to try to make up
such goods at home; a home made cloak or
jacket never has the fit or finish of those
made in the great manufactories. It makes
those unaccustomed to “tailor made
prices" open their eyes to be told our De-
troit “ladies’ tailors” charge from $12 to
$20 for making a cloth coat; this of course
includes “ findings ”——those indefinite items
which in this case at least seem to cover a
multitude of little expenses.

Short mantles in cloth are worn by mid-
dle-aged ladies; they have long fronts and
semi-loose sleeves, or the sleeve part is
folded under to make the sling sleeve so
popular a couple Of years ago; these
mantles are thinly wadded and lined, or a
Chamois jacket is worn under them. The
trimmings will be the new cord passemen~
teries and fringe.

—.——Q..——_

IF you have more grapes than you can
consume fresh, prepare grape juice for use
in cooking, as a tonic, and beverage for in-
valids. Scald the grapes enough to let the
juice run freely, press, heat just to the
boiling point, skim, put into bottles and
seal securely. It will keep a long time
and is a healthy and safe drink.

.———-———¢o.-—-—-—_

Contributed Recipes.

 

CBOW—CHOW.——F0ur onions; six stalks of
celery; two dozen tomatoes; one head cab—
bage, chopped fine. Boil in one quart vinegar
and one quart water, then drain; take two
quarts vinegar, two pounds sugar, one table-
spoonful mustard, three tablespoont‘uls mix-
ed spiees. Boil all together.

TOMATO Gasser —To one gallon of toma-
toes, after being toiled and strained through
a colander, add thfi e tablespoonfuls salt; one
tableSpoont’u! each of cloves, cinnamon, all-
spice and black pepper; one smaltteaspoonful
cayenne pepper; one pint good vinegar. Boil
to the proper consistency and bottle while
hot.

TOMATO Sort—One peck green tomatoes;
four large onions. chopped fine; one cup salt,
Let them stand over night; put in a sieve and
drain well. Take two quarts vinegar and one
quart water, boil fifteen minutes and drain
well again; then add three pints vinegar; two
pounds brown sugar; two tablespoonfuls
ginger; two tablespoonfuls allspice; two
tablespoonfuls cinnamon; two tablespoonfuls
cloves; half teaspoonful cayenne pepper;
quarter pound of white mustard seen. Boil
fifteen minutes and seal. RHODA.

 

BATTLE CREEK.