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J, 3: , , ‘_,__ 15443»; a" :81» '~'

 

 

DETROIT, JULY 12. 1890.

 

 

THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

THE BABY.

 

The little tcttt ring baby feet,
. With faltering steps and slow,
With patteriug echoes so: t and sweet,
Into my heart they go;
They also go in grimy plays,
In muddy pools and dusty way s,
Then through the house in trackful maze
They wander to and fro.

The baby hands that c‘asp my 11:. ck
With touches dear to me.
Are 1;? e same hands that smash and wreck
The inkstand foul to see;
Then pound the mirror with a cane.
Then rend the manuscript in twain,
Widespread destruction they ordain
In wasteful jubilee.

The dreamy. murm‘ring voice
That coos its little tune,
That makes my listening heart rejoice,
Like birds in leafy June,
Can wake in midnight dark and still,
And all the air with howling fill,
That splits the ear with echoes shrill,
Like cornets out of tune.
R. J. Burdelte.
—-—.¢.——_

“TAKE ME, MAMMA‘. ”

 

“Mamma, mamma, mam—m—ai where
you doin’? Tate me! Me wants to go;
wait, mamma;” and a pair of legs encased
in abbreviated knickerhcckers flew (own
the steps and out on the walk after the
lady who had just sneaked out the side
door and started down town, with a furtive
air as if she had just robbed ahenroost and
had the plunder in her shopping-bag. She
hurried on, but the cry of “Wa't, mam-
ma’ became too imperative to be ignored.
Then she faced about. “ No, you can’t
go today, Tommy. Run home now, that’sa
good boy, and see what Sarah’ll give you.”
But the promise was lost in Tommy’s
shrieks-as he cried “Take me, mamma.
Me want to go. Me will go!” “No,
Tommy, mamma can’t take you, go right
back in the house and be a good boy and
mamma’ll bring -——,” but here again the
tempest rose high and higher, a chorus of
sobs and shrieks, “ Me will go, me will
got!” and on he ran, his face red with
passionate anger and crying louder every
moment. What would you have done,
good mother? ‘"

This mother took chase after the young
rebel, caught him, and carried him, kick-
ing, screaming, a sort of human pinwheel,
back to the house, deposited him indoors,
called “ Sarah” inno gentle tones, and
emerged, “a trifle disfigured but still in
the ring,” banging the front door em-
phatically. .. Yells and screams came from
behind the closed portals. “ Sarah ” vainly

attempted to pacify the small boy who Ie-
fused to be comforted, and the girl, used
to Tommy’s tantrums, went ofi about her
work, leaving him to cry it out at his
leisure. He spent the rest of the afternoon
at it, howling dismally at times—.whenever
his grievances returned upon his memory.

That scene, so unpleasant to actors and
spectators, the friend whom I was visiting
told me was repeated every time Tommy’s
mother attempted to elude his vigilance
and leave him at home when she went out.
If he discovered her in the act of escaping,
he had it out with her; if she got away
without his knowledge, as soon as he
missed her the circus began with the ser-
vant girl as manager. I’ve known more
than one family where the mother adopted
similar tactics to get away from the baby,
sneaking out thrOugh the orchard or across
lots to get rid of the children’s teasing to
go too, and escape a conflict of wills.
When the oft repeated “ Where’s mam-
ma” had to be definitely answered the
tempest followed. As a. consequence, the
absence of afamiliar sunbonnet from its
accustomed peg, the putting on a clean
dress, or even the donning of a clean collar,
was the signal for “ Where you going?
Mayn’t I go too?” Tears if the answer
were no; joy unspeakable if in the affirma-
tive.

I suppose this question of taking or
leaving the children is one a good many
parents settle every year. In all my ex-
perience among other people I have known
few families where it was managed in a
'real sé'nsible, honorable fashion. There
was one little yellow-haired boy, perhaps
four years old, visiting with his father and
mother among aunts and cousins he had
never seen before. The evening of the
very first day, his father and mother, with
others of the visited family, were invited
out to spend the evening. It was winter,
and the weather was cold. " Shall you
take Eddie to night?” was asked. “ I don’t
think we better,” said the father, looking
at his wife for assent or dissent. “ It’s cold,
and we shall be late home. It will be bet-
ter for him to go to bed at the usual time.”

When the time came to start out, the
boy was playing happily with his little
cousins in a room by themselves. When
his father had put on his coat and cap he
Said “ Eddie, papa and mamma are going
out this evening, and you must be a good
boy and let Auntie put you to bed at seven
o’cloc .” “ Can’t Igo too, papa?” “ No;

 

not to night. Papa’ll be here when you
wake up in the morning.” The little fel-

low got up, came and kissed his parents
and said gord night, and a'ter they had
left the room went on with his play, a little
more quietly perhaps, for a few minutes;
and at last when the bedtime came was
undressed and put to bed with no more
trouble than if this had been the hundredth,
instead of the first time he had slept in the.-
house. It was all in beginning right.

i know another mother whose children
follow her to the door for goodby kisses
when she is going out, and whose teasing
to go with her never gets beyond “ Mayn’t
I go, mamma?” simply because she will
not have it otherwise. " No, you can’t.
go ” is final; there is nothing to be gained
by coaxing, which only evokes a per'
emptory request to “ Stop teasing, I said
No.” There’s no bribing to stay home; no
promises for next time, therefore no for—
gotten or broken pledges.

If a child sees his mother steal away
slyly, to get away from him, it it not an
encouragement for him to some day sneak
out of her sight? If she evades her
promises and breaks her word to him, for-
getting the candy, or putting off till “ next
time” what was pledged for today, what
confidence can he repose in her truthful—
ness? Children are keen observers; they
have good memories; and I put it down as
an axiom in the training of the young, that:
no mother can afford to break her word to
her child, or set him the example of doing
sneaking and underhand things.

BEATRIX;

UNE XPE CTED COMPANY.

 

My husband had gone to town to be:
gone all day, the children were at school
with their lunch baskets, and I had de—
cided to put ina good day sewinv, and;
take a lunch at noon myself. As I sat
stitching away, with no thought of mis~
fortune or calamity, the clock struck
twelve and simultaneously I heard the
“ crunch ” of carriage wheels on the gravel
drive at the side door. I looked out the
window and to my consternation saw five
persons alighting at my door. They hart
driven twelve miles and must have some
dinner.

I welcomed them, explained the situav
tion, and after a brief chat excused myself
to prepare a meal for them. In the pantry
I took account of stock. There was one
slice of cold bacon left from breakfast and
the drumstick and wing of yesterday’s
chicken; there was also one cold boiled-
potato, a hard boiled egg, two slices of

 

bread in the bread jar and one cookie and.

 


 

2 THE' HOUSEHOLD.

 

ihalf of another in the steamer. Fortificd
“by these resources, lcheerfully built a fire,
and in fifteen minutes I had made a lovely
«chicken pie, scalloped the potato, adding
-~one-cracker to make more of it. and had
toasted the two slices of bread and cut them
in strips so as to make them go round. I
isqumered the cookie and a half, and laid
ton each quarter a slice of the hard boiled
egg, making a novel and attractive relish.
At the last moment I found a sauce plate
flull of jam which had been set away from
so. the night before; this I turned into my
«cutglass preserve dish, feeling as if it were
«quite a treasure. ' Then, just fifteen
minutes from the time I left the parlor, I
summoned my guests to dinner, first run-
zning out into the garden for a cabbage
plant and a few graceful onion tops for a
r’bouquet, for our roses were all gone and
the annuals were not yet in bloom. I was
quite proud of my menu, and the quick-
sness with which I had prepared it, but
though fifteen minutes seems a short time
in which to build a fire and bake a chicken
agile, yet when one plans her work carefully
,- she can accomplish a good deal in a short
time. My guests ate heartily, saying the
long drive had given them great appetites,
. and congratulated me on my delightful
s. dinner.

‘Illhe above is all a lie, every word of it,
but it is exactly as true as the nonsense of
rthe same kind one reads in houseker ping
treatises and the domestic columns of some
newspapers. It makes me downright mad
to have such stuff written for practical
housekeepers by women whom I know
never cooked a meal in their lives, and who
'aspire to teach those who have practiced
all their lives how to live economically.
- You cannot make something out of noth-
ing in the culinary line any more than you
scan in any other way; and the idea of get-
ting up a meal for three or four out of
scraps an able~bodied tramp could not fill
up on makes me sick. If people must
write fiction I wish they would choose
something else than cooking—something
they know a little about, something not
.quite so hopelessly prosy and common-
place—as a theme for their romance.

Nine tenths of the stuff one sees in
papers, household magazines, etc., pro-
teasing to teach women how to keep house
and dress well on nothing a year, how to
furnish a room with blue denim carpet and
«cheesecloth ceiling, how to make a chicken
pie out of a slice of cold ham, is written by
women who never put their fingers into
dough, drove a tack or hun g a picture in
their lives. A canary bird with a good ap-
petite could not live on the thin soups and
dainty “ croquettes” they seem to consider
so “ fillin’,” and their economies make
me think of the story of the man who was
always nagging his wife because she could
not cook as economically and at the same
time as palatably as his neighbor’s wife.

“‘Why,” said be, “we had boiled carrots

with some sort of sauce the other day, and
they were delicious. When have we had a
«carrot, I’d like to know! And so cheap!

Mrs. said enough for dinner only

 

cost her two cents.” Madam had boiled

and her lord and master would not touch
them. Why couldn’t she have made a
sauce for them like Mrs. —-—? So next
day she got the recipe for the sauce, and
they had carrots again, this time meeting
the full approval of the man of the house.
Then she showed him the bill: Carrots,
two cents; ingredients for sauce, including

dressing, 78 cents. Thenhe shut up.
BRUNEFILLE.

W

' FROM DAFFODILLY.

 

way.

to keep their company.

would like to agitate.

hills and far away?

 

carrots at two cents for next day’s dinner

 

taragon, curry, and half a bottle of French

Your pardon, sweet friends,.for appear-
ing in a lawn wrapper this evening. I am‘
as hot as fire as I sit by my window, sn'f-
fing the faintest zephyr that favors us in
this old city. The fire crackers and other
loud sounding inventions that take people’s
money up in offensive smoke are snapping
in every direction. The average small boy
must commence the Fourth of July early
the evening preceding in order to be there
next day in time to get his nose blown . if
and eyebrows singed, or something worse.
An invitation from “ Chip” to spend the
day with her in the country where she is
established for the summer, says, by way
of inducement, “ We are going to have a
high old time and $10 worth of fireworks.”
Nothing could drive me farther the other

The season of vacations for city people
is now in full blast. How eagerly they are
hustling around getting ready—those who
work must get a substitute. Those who
do not work but seek the fashionable rc-
sorts must get their sixteen hats made and
packed. Oh, what must it be to live with —--—
such women! I am sure I would have
three thousand fits in half an hour if I had minded of these things, they have kept

lady monopolized most of the evening in
a prelude in the strain of that old song,

“Reuben, I have long been thinking wha‘. a
good world this would be,

If the men were all transported far beyond
the Northern sea. ’

This is all I intend to tell this time about
the W. C. T. U. folks.

I have been making cool dresses, and

summer vests for my husband. Let me
tell you how easily you can make this
convenient obstacle young and sweet.
There is nothing equal to a white vest to
touch up a man. I get ordinary white
marseilles of any pattern and line it with
the same, with cambric backs, single. Cut
a pattern of an old vest, and for common
I stitch the pockets on the outside but bet-
ter ones I make “ regular.” 1 have made
some of striped gingham, but you must
allow for shrinking.

Is it n' t a pity that the E iitress is com-
pelled to cry aloud for “ copy ” until some
one thinks it her duty to send on a lot of
such stufi as this? Vashti says I makeher
think of the Wallaees in our church. They
go by streaks attending and talking in
prayer meeting, and then relapse into
utter neglect for a long period. Well, to—
morro .v is the glorious “ Fourth,” as good
a day as was ever St. Patrick’s to be sure.
I am going with my beloved husband to
Clifton Heights, a charming suburb, on a
sort of picnic. After coming from the
kitchen where I fried the chicken, Itook
up this letter to cool oil? on. I am cooler
now, thank you, and good-night.

Sr. Loms, Mo. DAFFODILLY.

____...—_—-

THINGS THAT NEED DOING.
Old housekeepers do not need to be re-

hous'e so long that they do them as syste-

But we must all have some sort of a matically as they wash dishes. When I
rest. Under a certain table in a certain began to keep house I did much as Aunt
basket. I have stand up a collection of Chloe did, had a “claring up” time once
choice reading and matter for arrangement in so often, but this did not keep the house
in a scrap book, besides notes for writing looking nice, so I made out a list of things
—maybe a story for the HOUSEHOLD- that need doing regularly, and kept it on
some day. Will the some day ever arrive? the cupboard shelves. I divided the list
I too want to skip through the back so that some work fell to each day, and
numbers and get some ideas. If anybody now I have done these things so many years
has said anything during the past year for that the list is no longer necessary, and I
which they want to be forgiven, now is a have a fairly clean house all the year round.
good time to speak out. It is amusing to Young housekeepers, and especially ydung
remember how we have lampooned each help in the house, see only the generalities.
other sometimes. How we have scored the
men who perform the sword act with the as the loft stairs; the water sets in the
table knives and disdain napkins and clean chambers ought to be washed every time
towels, etc. There one other matter I there is a general sweeping; the rounds
Does anybody and legs of chairs and tables need dusting
think it is a nice habit for a man to place just as much as the top. Dust the stove,
his shoes under the bed? What do you picture frames and cords, and don’t forget
think of when a pair of rusty heels peep to wipe down the cobwebs. Clean and
out at you when the owner is over the fill the lamps, but never fill a lamp up to

The cellar stairs need sweeping as often

the neck; it will always run over and coat

St. Louis has had a W. C. T. U. con- the whole with k‘erosene. Wash the win-
vention and the Y. P. S. C. E. convention dows, change the papers on the cupboard
in June. You ought to have seen the 6,000 shelves, and put clean ones in the kettle
people assembled in Music Hall in the cupboard too. Cleanse the sink spout.
name of the Master. One could not help On scrubbing days don’t forget the porch
feeling asif the world might be converted floors, the benches and water closets.
in a single week. I ought to have written Wipe dry the wringer, boiler, tubs and
about the first convention. We entertained washing. utensils before putting away.
three delegates. Miss Willard lectured Sweep up and burn the litter in the wood
and you know what that means. Another house, it makes a brwding place for ants,

 

  

 
  

 

”.miMAu‘a_4nA.r


 

  

THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

   

bugs and flies. Don’t throw dishwater,
tea, or coffee grounds around the back
door, it draws flies; if there is no drain
keep a pail for such things, and when the
dishes are done carry the slop water out
away from the house. Wash the water-
pails, dippers and cups used around the
stove and sink. Don’t hang the dishcloth
or towels in a wad; rinse them well and
hang on a line to dry, they will wash much
easier Monday. There is no earthly ex-
cuse for potblack on dishtowels. The
dishes are supposed to be washed clean
before they are wiped. Keep the reservoir
and teakettle full of water. Keep a dust
cloth, a lamp cloth and towel and a clear:-
ing cloth, and have a place for each and
each in its place. Label your fruit cans,
you can send for what you want and no
mistake need be made.

Much has been said about broiling
versus frying steak, but I think I’ve never
seen anything about oatmeal. If it were
properly cooked it would be very pala-
table and more of it would be used. Al-
ways use boiling water. Oatmeal stirred
into cold water is fit only for the pigs and
chickens. If you would have clear coffee
always pour on boiling water; and the best
tea is made with hot water just ten
minutes before serving. Set the table so
that there will be as little noise and com-
motion as pos:ible in serving. Give each
dish room enough so that no other needs
moving to take the one up or set it down.
"Teach the children to leave their plates,
knives, forks, cups and napkins properly—-
it saves time in picking up the dishes.

If variety is the spice of life, a woman has

it in doing all these things and many more.

rAW Paw. E- R. S.
——-.0.———

AN OPINION ABOUT GOSSIP.

{Pape' read by Mrs. M. E. Weatherby before
the Liberty Farmers’ Club at its June meeting]

It is generally understood that gossip is
the telling of things that should not be
told, or making much of little. I do not
think this idea always correct. Webster
defines a gossip thus: “ One who tattles or
tells idle tales.” We understand idle tales
to be those of no value, and if indulged
in at all, should be taken sparingly, as you
would, take dessert after a hearty meal.
Time is too short to spend to no purpose.

We take up the MICHIGAN FARMER and
at the head of a column we read “ Horse
Gossip.” In reading the items we find
them to be short notices of the doings and
conditions of the various horses known to
the public. Now I suppose every farmer
believes those notes to be correct, notwith-
standing they are called gossip. Two
farmers laboring in adjoining fields come
near each other, and in a short time you
may see them, with jack-knives and sticks
in hand, perched upon the topmost rail of
the line fence gossiping witha will. Let
us listen to what they are saying. They i
talk of the conditions of the weather, the
soil and business, also of the prospect for
their various crops and prices. with an
occasional note for the babies; for the
most of fathers remember the little ones, if
they are hard at work on the farm or other-

 

for an hour; they talk over their various
plans for labor, their modes of operation,
their success or failure, and very likely
the success or failure of some of their
friends. They discuss the relative value
of various things and their adaptability to
their needs; they talk of the doings and
sayings of others, of the various remedies
for croup, measles and chicken cholera
(my remedy being the best), and whether
baby ought to have a silver dollar or rub-
ber ring upon which to cut itsteeth. They
talk of the various styles of dress, of books,
of music and art, and the thousand things
that come to us in daily life. The young
gentlemen will gossip of their lady friends,
speaking of their various accomplishments,
their worth and loveliness, all with the
best of feelings and intentions, and vice
versa. The young ladies will discuss a
gentleman from the cut of his hair to the
set of his boot, and frequently wind up by
saying, “ Well, I think he’s cute.”

I wish our young la .i s would discuss
the real character of the gentlemen they
admit to their friendship. There is that
which is of greater value than the mere
external appeara‘ces. Valuable a sthey
are, I hope the time will soon come when
our young ladies will refuse the friendship
of the young men who use liquor of any
kind, tobacco in any form, or impure
language. It is not enough that they be
gentlemanly in outward appearance; they
oug..t to be cleaned from all filthy habits
to be worthy ofa pure woman’s friendship.

I beg pardon for this digression from
the subject. But these thoughts came
into my head and while they did not over-
come me, I did not like to lose them. But
to return: All of the illustrations I have
given are, so far asIcan see, perfectly
harmless. But the word admits of still
farther illustrations. There is much gossip
that is not done with the tongue, but with
the pen. Go to our township library and
pick out volume after volume of idle tales,
which in other words are gossip. But
people seem to like them or they would
demand a higher class of works. Many
there are who will sit up late at night to
read them, while they could not read an
hour upon solid matter. Such gossip I
consider more harmful than the ordinary
neighborhood talk. There is however a
class of gossip that is hurtful. The telling
of unpleasant things to others for the pur-
pose of injuring any one, is all wrong and
should not be indulged in. We are often
told that we should always speak well of
people. If you cannot say something good
of them don’t say anything about them.
Let me ask is that a correct theory when
closely applied? Are we always to speak
Well of the bridge because it did not fall
with our weight, when perhaps the very
next one who attempted to cross was
hurled to destruction? Oh,’ that bridge
was all right for me, but I think the other
person was a little too heavy, for both went
down. Would it not have been better for all
had we p. inted out the imperfections oft e
bridge, and possibly we might have saved
the person a fall? How are we to teach

 

wise engaged. Two or more ladies meet

  

are we fighting the saloon? A saloon never
existed without a man to run it, and I sup-
pose every saloon-keeper has good traits of
character, for there is good in all, but if
the evil predominates in his practices in
life, what shall we say? Shall we say to
our sons, “The saloonis a bad place, I
had rather you would not go there.” “ But
why, father? 'You say Mr. Keeper is a
good man, and if he isa good man would
he keep a bad place?”

There is in the school a boy of pleas-
ing manners, in the schoolroom always
obedient and kind to the teacher; he has a
strong magnetic force, and is generally
liked, but he will swear and tell lies, and
steal. I ask how shall I keep my boy from
the influence of his evil course, if I never
speak of it to him. Shall I keep silent and
let my boy be drawn into the whirlpool of
evil? Can I reasonably expect to keep
him untainted by the influence of such a
companion, simply by pointing out the
good traits of his character, and saying,
“ I had rather you would not have that
boy for an intimate friend?” The young
mind demandsareason; if none isgiven
they are quite apt to search for it them-
Selves. Another class of gossip is the
political gossip with which our country is
filled every four years. That I consider a
dishonor, not only to those engaged in it,
but to the country. A stranger might
think there was not an honorable man in
the United States of America. My opinion
of gossip is that it may be harmless, en-
tertaining and instructive, or it may be
malicious and hurtful, just according to
the motives and dispositions of those en-
gaged in it.

w
ITEMS ABOUT THE HAIR.

-—_

A simple restorative and one perfectly
harmless is made of equal parts of French
brandy and olive oil. It is useless to cut
the hair short in the effort to check its
falling out. The hair seldom grows to a
desirable length afterward, and the falling
out is rarely checked.

A simple application which will
strengthen the growth and darken the
color of the hair is a quinine wash to which
a little oil of rosemary and cantharides
have been added. It will sometimes re-
store the color of gray hair.

Another preparation which is highly re-
commended and is harmless, is rust of
iron, one drachm; strong old ale, one pint;
oil of rosemary, 12 drops. Put all into a
bottle, cork loosely, shake daily for ten or
twelve days, then turn off the clear portion
for use.—— Good Housekeeping.

 

————«*_

THE July number of the Home-Maker
has a very interesting and profusely illus-
trated article on “Martha, the Wife of
Washington ” and several Fourth of July
stories, as well as the customary contingent
of poems, miscellany, and matter especially
designed to interest women. One of the
leading articles is a description of our own
picturesque Bay View, by Frances F.

 

our children to shun the evil there is in
man if it is never spoken of to them? Why

 

Baker. Home-Maker 00., 44 E. 14th St.
N. Y. City.

    

   


 

4 THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

 

FLOWERS IN THE HOUSE.

Now that the garden and the fields are
full of flowers, we can revel in a profusion
of bouquets, and keep the vases filled with
a constant succession of bloom. And a
word about vases at the outset. Don’t use
the fragile, tall, top-heavy affairs that look
as if they would tip over at a touch or a
jar. An overturned vase is disastrous to-
everything in its neighborhood, a choice
book may be spoiled, the table scarf wet
and ruined, or an ugly mark made on the
polished table. Select vases that will
stand solidly, those having a good base.
Then, suit your vases to your flowers—or
your flowers to your vases. We have
learned that one variety or kind of flowers
massed together is most pleasing to the eye.
No one would think, now days, of sur-
rounding a water lily with any other kind
of bldSSumS.

Short-stemmed flowers require low bowls
or shallow dishes of some kind. Pansies
may be effectively arranged in a finger
bowl, grouping them loosely and lightly
with geranium leaves for foliage and to
support those in the centre. A bunch of
poppies or nasturtiums placed in a globe-
shsped bowl needs no foliage whatever; it
is beautiful enough alone, especially if it
contrasts with a pure white or brown bowl.
Water lilies never look so lovely, out of
their native haunts, as they do in a glass
bowl—which may be the salad bowl if
nothing else is at hand. The pressed glass
is now sold at so low a price that a dollar
' will buy quite a fair-sized bowl.

Tall flowers, like gladiolus and many of
the large-growing perennials, need rather
large and tall vases. Two or three spikes
of gladiolus, with some tall grasses and a
bit of their own foliage. will light adim
corner like a flame, though much of the
beauty of flowers depends upon the light in
which they are placed. Delicate flowers,
of which we have so many among the
annuals, fill up the small tinted glass vases
well; two or three roses with a few of their
own leaves look well in the little “bud
vases.”

A handful of blue “ bachelor’s buttons ”
with a bit of the feathery bloom of the
fringe tree in a deep blue bowl, is prettier
thansou would imagine. In fact, there is
as much room for artistic taste and talent
in the grouping and arrangement of flow-
ers as in any kind of “ art work” with
paints or silks.

And then, when you have made your
rooms gay with blcom, don’t forget there
is nothing more perishable than flowers,
and that tomorrow there will be fallen
petals and withered leaves, and bad smell-
ing water in the vases. Don’t neglect to
emove them. It is a good deal of extra
work to fill alot of vases with fresh flowers
every day, but better nene at all than a
mass of mal-odorous, decaying vegetation.

I saw in one of the bazars the other day
a queer shaped contrivance which so ex-
cited my curiosity that I asked what it
was for. It was a shallow china dish with
a removable centre filled with small holes,
and designed for the arrangement of short

stemmed flowers, which could ‘thus be

 

made one solid mass of color, with a
border of foliage if desired. The space
inside could be filled with water or wet
sand, and the cover placed over it, then
pansies, balsams, or any like blossoms
massed on it and kept fresh and bright.
I thought it quite an idea. . B.

—._....——-———

POLITE CHILDREN.

 

I have had it in my mind for some time
to write a few words on what some call
that “worn out topic,” politeness. It
seems as if nearly every thing had been
said, or at least all that was necessary on
that subject. But several weeks since I
was a guest of a literary society in the
western part of our township. As we
were taking our tea in groups around
small tables, the conversation turned to
the discussion in our HOUSEHOLD on polite-
ness. A lady who sat opposite me made
the remark that she felt hurt and out of
patience at the way some had rated the
country children so far below city children
in politeness. She thought it unjust. She
had lived in both town and country; and
of all the children who visited at her home,
the country children were by far the best
behaved, more polite, and especially so at‘

table.
It is not every family of children that

{cceives the attention and training that
hers do, though there are‘ always a few
families in favored localities.

I thought more than likely there were
other mothers who felt the same, that their
children or their class of children did not
receive a fair representation in this dis-
cussion, which I think is true; and I open
it anew to assure them that I know there
are many country children who are the
peers of the best of the city children.
Those families whose tastes are refined,
whose asscc‘ations are of the best, can and
do inculcate a refinement of manner and
speech which will last through life; and
the counteracting influences in the country
are small in comparison to all appearances.
This class of country people are as distinct
from the boorish, unrefined and illiterate
class to be found in some localities as if
they were of a different race. ’

There is another class between these two,
to be found both in the town and country.
They have a code of good manners which
they put on with their good clothes, but
more generally for strangers or company,
both grown people and children. These
persons are not “ all wool and warranted
to wash,” but shoddy. Unless politeness
is born in the bone and bred in the flesh it
will not be “ full weight and fast colors.”

Many parents both in town and country
never teach their children what they
should do or say under certain circum-
stances. The only teaching they ever get
is to be told before company to say
“ Thank you,” "Take off your hat,”
“ Tell the lady or gentleman you are pretty ‘
well thank you,” “ You should not go be-
fore people,” etc., etc., though this is
pretty near the extent of the catalogue.
And they never learn more until they have

attending embarrassments. One would
think the parents who had been through
this experience would be wiser for their
children, bat many are not.

It looks as if they did not care for any-
thing of that kind, only when some person,
they think is superior happens in their
way; they do not care that their children.
use good manners only before strangers.

How much those children who have
sensible, refined parents, have to be thank-
ful for they will never understand until-
thcy arrive at years of maturity.

Aaron. M. E. H.

 

Gwd-Houselxeping keeps up its reputa-
tion as foremost among the publications-
devoted to domestic affairs. Each num-
ber is so good one wonders how the next
can possibly be better, yet somehow it:
keeps “ up to the mark.” Clark W. Bryan‘
& 00., Springfield, Mass.

_____.....___.

HOUSEHOLD HINTS.

How to wring a cloth out of hot water:
“ Lay a cloth half a yard long and one foot
wide into a vessel of hot water, letting the‘
ends hang over the sides. Lay the cloth
wanted for use in this. Take one end of
the under cloth in each hand and twist
them until the inside cloth is wrung.”

——_

CANDIED cherries may not be as “ poeti-
cal” as candied violets, but they are more
palatable. Boil seeded cherries in a syrup;
of one cup' of water and one pound of
sugar, till tender. Let stand in the syrup
two days. Remove, drain, separate the
cherries and sprinkle thick with sugar.
Dry on plates in the sun.

SOMEBODY will surely say she “ can’t
bother,” but do remember to throw a light
shawl over your shoulders when you go-
down cellar to work the butter or skim the
milk, especially if you have been at work.
over the stove or are perspiring freely.
Many a bad cold and rheumatic attack,
with attendant evils. have been gained by
just such carelessness about a change or
temperature when overheated. The cooler
air is grateful, but it is not safe.

 

U “ml Recipes.

CURRANT CATSUP.-—Stem and wash the cur-
rants; to every pound aid half a pound sugar,

one to .spoonful cinnamon. one of move", One ‘

of aliep ce and a very Imle sat. 301 the
currants half an hour, then add sugar and.
spices; let it come to a boil and seal while
hot.

GERMAN PRUNE CAKES ——'i‘he following di-
r ctious tor ih'BOE'IOnOy.WhICh we tind in the
Rural. New Yorker, might serve as well for
the “dr ed 'ppe turtovers" for which a
recipe Was recent y asked: A light sponge
was set over night and mixed for iurthor
ris ng in the morning, just the same as for
ra sed doughnuts. While this was rising
some prunes were stewed. and then mashed
tnmuun a c lander, making a. pade When
the cough wa. lgnt it Was rotten out it til it
Wns stout a quarter of an inch thick. and
then cut in small oval min 5 A little depres-
an n was made ~n the middle and a sot 0 ml
or prune paste put in Tne edges or the r aka
we 0 tn~ n u o steued with wh to of egg and
snutnrr cake was stuck on too of it. cover ng
the irmt in the mtdule. The car. es were then

 

opportunity of learning ' it somewhere
away from home, and experiencing all the

drop; ed into toting fat. and cooked like:
doughnuts.

 

 

 
 
 
  
  
  

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