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DETROIT, JUNE 13, 1891.

 

 

THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

FARMER MORRISON ’S WIFE.

 

Down at the farmhouse below the hill.

The blinds were closed, and the wheel was still.
'The swirl of the stream and the blue-fly‘s drone
Troubled the preacher’s voice alone.

Where. by the open door he stood.
And talked to the gathered neighborhood.

Of Earth and Heaven and the grave between.
The visible world and the world unseen :

Glancing aside. with solemn air.
’To the dead who lay in her coflin there.

'Every breath of the soft May breeze
Shock the blooming lilac trees.

And sent a quiver of light and bloom
Into the hushed and darkened room.

It touched with a gleam the shadowed wall.
It flickered over the funeral pall.

And circled about the tremulous head
‘Of the nearest mourner beside the dead;

Farmer Morrison. old and gray.

Bent and helpless for many a day.

Up and down with a dull surprise.

Bestlessly wandered his sunken eyes.

Seeking. it seemed, in that crowded place,
The one familiar missing face.

The face that. stony and set. lay hid

Just out of sight ’neath the coffin-lid.

Never a day. till the day she died.

Had the wife been gone from her husband’s side:

Thus were the twain asunder reft.
The helpful taken, the helpless left.

And the preacher spoke to the people there
0f the Will divine, in his simple prayer:

The Lord. who giveth and taketh away—
Praised be the name of the Lord for aye!

Now. when the last amen was said.
.And the mourners rose to follow the deed.

Farmer Morrison. gaunt and tall.
Stood up straight in the sight of all.

Suddenly steady of eye and limb.
While the peOple gazed aghast at him.

He laid his hand on the coflin-lid.
He stooped to kiss the face it hid.

Then. spent with that one strong. sudden breath
Life’s latest flicker went out in death.

Thus were the twain again made one;
Trial over and trouble done.

And the preacher said in his solemn speech:

“The way of the Lord man may not reach.

Lo! He hath given and taken again!

Praised be the name of the Lord! Amen."

—-Kate Putnam Osgood, in New England Magazine.
WM

ONLY A TRIPLE.

 

It was very cloudy, rainy and dis-
agreeable, one of those mornings when
the most evenly balanced head is liable
to be thrown out of gear by the slightest
friction, when a despondent nature is

completely prostrated and a hot-tem-
pered person will fly oii his base with
no provocation. To sum the whole
matter up, it was just the time for a.
family racket. For as such will oc-
casionally occur in the best regulated
homes; the domestic atmosphere be-
coming surcharged with electricity, it is
necessary that there shall be some
sharp flashes, and various thunderings
to “clar it out.” The breakfast was
not very good. Philena was forced to
admit it, even before her attention was
directed to it by the head of the family.
The rolls were soggy, the veal cutlets
underdone, the coffee muddy. The
tablecloth was on askew, the silver was
dingy. Roses ran riot over the ver-
anda, but there were none on the table;
strawberries were abundant, there were
none placed invitingly by their ”plates.
“Why is it,” he queried, “that with
such enormous butchers’ and grocers’
bills we have nothing fit to eat? Have
you forgotten how to cook?” Philena
looked at her white hands, the pink
tipped, taper fingers, their nails
polished as daintily as a. shell, and
lifted her eyebrows in astonishment.
Here was a. poser. Had‘ he asked her
to define Theosophy she could have
done it in regular Bostonian style, but
as for things of the earth, earthy, she
“wasn’t there.” “I’ll warrant,” the
wretch went on, “ you do not look into
the kitchen once a month. My mother
did all her own cooking, seldom hiring,
and so did your mother, and if my
memory serves me right, I’ve seen you
up to your elbows in the bread tray
dozens of times. Hang it all, you might
at least see that it is done properly.”
Philena deliberated awhile; it was a.
habit of hers never to act hastily; then
from her thin lips came the carefully
worded answer: “I am a believer in
elevation; if one cannot rise higher she
should never sink lower. I aimed to
elevate and better my condition, and
flatter myself I did. You have money
in abundance, why should I do that
which some one else is obliged to do as
a means of livelihood? It is a bounden
duty one owes humanity to mount rung
by rung, so that those below can have
an opportunity.” “Deuce take the
money,” he howled in rage. “ I selected
you from a dozen to make my home
the earthly Eden I had read about. I
wanted you to be the good fairy that

 

 

would with a magic wand make itbright
and attractive. I can eat at the club,
but I want a home to come into after
the troublesome office hours are over.
My boyhood’s home was plain, but so
pleasant! I can see the little kitchen,
cookroom and dining—room combined,
the square table and cotton cloth and
blue dishes. But oh! what mealy po-
tatoes, big fat doughnuts, salt rising
bread, and mother so smiling and con-
tented! Four rosy, healthy boys, with
plenty of brawn and muscle. ’Twas
pure country air and good wholesome
food that made it, too. We ate with
two-tined steel forks; and mother’s
head wasn’t up in the clouds half the
time; she studied to make her home at—
tractive to father and her boys, and
she succeeded most beautifully. It is
the brightest picture I carry in my
memory—that little country home.
Wealth has come to me; it buys lux-
uries, but it has not brought me the
home-like place I had thought it would.
A year ago I went out to the old place
and Jack and I placed flowers on the
graves in the old cemetery. There
was just Jack and I then. Tomorrow
the anniversary rolls round again and I
am left alone to strcw flowers. There’s
too much show now days, too many
ologies and osophics. I don’t believe
the oldest man living rightly under-
stands a. woman.” Philena was not
emotional; she seldom became excited——
it wasn’t nice. Shc disliked scenes.
She leaned back gracefully in her chair,
and looking out through the mist noted
the fine effect of a little rift in the
clouds where the tiniest bit of blue
peeped through.

“Let’s begin over again, we are drift-
ing so far apart; go with me to the old
home tomorrow, and in the quiet old
cemetery, over the graves of the loved
ones, make new pledges. We are near-
ing the summit of life, the next step is
decadence. Will you, Philena?” She
looked into the flushed, expectant face
and shook her head, “No.” He went
to his office, hard-hearted and cold.
She assumed a melodramatic attitude,
and wondered if there was another such
a creature known as man! She looked
inside the kitchen, just out of curiosity,
and secretly acknowledged that the
paraphernalia of that department was
something wonderful to behold. She
sought comfort in the “central idea of

 


 

2

The Household.

 

Theosophy, the one great circle of light
spreading from the rare 'to the dense,
from the intangible to the tangible,
from the subjective to the objective.”
There are any number of Philenas in
the world. Do they all reside in cities?
Are they all “in the swim?”
EVANGELINE.

 

“TEE FLOWER OF THE FAMILY.”

 

Picking up an old HOUSEHOLD lately
I read the article of'El. See’s on “ Hand-
some is that handsome does.” It re-
minds me of a family of my acquaint-
ance and their peculiarities. About
twenty years ago there lived in Grand
Rapids a family of five boys and three
girls. The girls were Jennie, Kate and
Carrie. Kate was considered the flower
of the family by every one, on account
of her many good qualities. If there
was sickness in the family Kate was
ready to sit up nights and work day
time. If the boys’ clothing was out of
order Kate was the one to repair it.
If there was a church social Kate was
on hand to help move things along. If
the boys were to have an evening party
Kate could get the refreshments for
them in good shape and make things
pleasant generally. So it went on until
they become grown people and were
married. J ennie—the eldest one—mar-
ried a farmer, and as farming was not
his forte they did not prosper in that
line. But she finally drifted into the
practice of medicine and is now a very
successful practitioner and has a very
flourishing business. The boys all
learned good trades, and as they are
master workmen get good wages. One
of them is a “commercial tourist” with
asalary of $2,000a year.

Kate married a manufacturer of
lumber and shingles; went to the north
woods with him; cooked for fifteen to
twenty men; sat up with sick neighbors
five nights in a week; sometimes closed
the eyes of the dying and prepared
their bodies for burial. Her husband
weathered the financial gale of 1873;
burned out in 1877—lost everything he
had—and finally moved back near the
Rapids; ran in debt for a farm, and is
now trying hard to pay for it. Of
course they can’t put on much style
and pay for their farm, so it causes
something of a coolness among the
brothers. Kate dresses neatly when she
goes to town, and is presentable any-
where under ordinary circumstances.
Carrie married an ordinary clerk and
he dresses her in a very tony manner,
and when they met their country sister
on Canal Street, something would in-
variably attract their attention on the
other side of the street, usually the
apex of some tall building, or the spar-
rows in some distant tree.

Kate has lived in her present home
for more than ten years, and in that
time has administered relief to the sick
in more than twenty-five cases; has pre-
pared for burial the bodies of sixteen of

 

her neighbors in that time, and sat by
the bedside of her sick husband forty~
three nights in succession. And today
while I ,am writing this little article
she is in the Rapids caring for a sick
mother, as she seems to be the only one
of the family who has the timeto spare.
She certainly is the flower of the
family in all that’s good and noble. Yet
because she lives in the country and
cannot put on airs, not a brother visits
her. But her sister—the doctor—hav-
ing had a few years’ experience on a
farm—is very kind indeed and is a fre-
quent visitor at her humble home.
Truly, as El See. says, “Handsome is
that handsome does” in the estimation

of AUNT BECKEY,

LANSING.
W

TALKING- UP AND NOT DOWN.

 

[Paper read before the Institute of the Kalama-
zoo County Husbandman's Club at Augusta.
by Mrs. L. B. Bacon.]

It is many years since I left the old
farm where six generations of my
father’s family had lived, but it is still
sacred soil to me, and I would rather
own a single acre of that old homestead
today than the finest residence property
in the city of Chicago—if I were obliged
to occupy it I have never bated one
jot of the respect and admiration I
there acquired for the occupation of a
farmer and the work of the farmer’s
wife. I have never outgrown my love
for the earth—the warm-hearted, dirty
old earth; within whose soil are buried
such wonderful possibilities of growth;
nor ceased to honor that man, rightly
called a benefactor of his race, who can
make two blades of grass grow where
only one grew before; nor yet for that
man’s wife, who week after week, year
in and year out, manufactures gilt-
edged butter, and just as giltedged
bread to spread it on; and I confess that
I have not yet attained to such a degree
of saintliness as not to become hot with
indignation whenever I hear profes-
sional men or others speak disparaging-
ly of farmers, intimating that they must
be lacking in intelligence and refine-
ment simply because they are farmers.

Such a provocation came to me not
long since in my own home, when a
guest, observing the superscription of an
envelope upon the table, not less grace-
ful nor more illegible than Rufus
Choate’s or Horace Greeley’s, remarked
that it must have been written by a
farmer. I told him it was, but that I
happened to know plenty of that class
whose penmanship was fully as good as
the average, and he replied that he did
not. It required some self-restraint not
to resent the implication; nevertheless
there are farmers and farmers, and
there is justas much diflerence in them
as in other people.

But it is not so much the farmers that
I wish to talk about, as their occupa—
tion; they can speak for themselves,
while if Imistake not, the business of
farming is often belittled in the esti-

 

mation of others by the lack of en-
thusiasm, or even appreciation, on the
part of those who pursue it.

I have observed that it is quite a
common thing for farmers and farmers’
wives to talk their business down and.
not up; to speak of it as ceaseless .toil
and drudgery only, with little rest or
relaxation, besides paying the smallest»
possible percentage upon the invest-
ment of both capital and labor.

I take it for granted that every man’s
calling has some attractions for him
that no other has; at least every man
who has the freedom of choice in the
matter; also that most men select such
business or occupationas they can trans-
mit to their sons, if they have any.
Every clergyman with whom I am ac~
quainted, every physician and lawyer,
is rejoiced to have his son adopt his own
profession. Merchants and military
men, railroad managers and bankers
have no higher ambition for their sons
than that they should be able to stand
in their fathers’ shoes by and by, and I
suppose the same is true of the better
class of farmers. Many a one toils
steadily year after year subduing and
enriching the soil, and beautifying the
landscape with orchards and shade trees
and improved buildings, possibly adding
acre to acre as his means permit, not
alone that he may sit under his own
vines and fruit trees and enjoy the re-
sults of his labor in his old age, but also
with the hope that some of his children.
and his children’s children for many“
generations may occupy this home and
cultivate these broad acres after he has.
been gathered to his fathers. Happily
his hopes are sometimes realized; but
oftener the reverse is true. His boys.
as they grow to manhood, and it may
be some years before they reach it,
decide that farming is too hard work;
for them, besides it doesn’t pay; so they
must find some easier way to get aliving'
and a shorter and surer road to wealth.
The life of an insurance agent or a,
commercial traveller or even a dryr
goods clerk seems to be an attractive.
one to farmers’ sons. They choose to
be other men’s servants rather than
their own masters. So, forsaking the.
old home with all of its tender associa-
tions they drift into that ceaseless cur—e
rent which is draining the life blood of.
our country communities to swell the
turbulent floods that are pouring inta
the cities of our land. The effect.
upon the country at large is no more
healthful than it is upon the body for
the blood, which should circulate freely,
to determine itself to the heart or brain..
It produces fever and congestion, and;
medicines are needed to restore normal-
conditions. To the young men them-
selves the result is often disastrous, for
very few realize their expectations.
Statistics show that more than ninety
per cent make a complete failure; not

in business alone, if they ever become

business men, but in reputation, in
character, in everything that makes life

 

 


 

 

The Household.

 

really worth‘ living. Scientists declare
tha “mankind are poisonous to one
another when too much massed to-
gether;” and it is admitted that none
of our cities could maintain their present
population without constant and large
drafts upon the country. But the vital
question today is not, shall our cities be
kept full and overflowing, but shall
our farming communities be depopu-
lated? Shall the very choicest of the
young men of Kalamazoo County and
vicinity be deflected from the farms to
be swallowed up, ninety in every one
hundred, in some city maelstrom, while
these fertile farms and handsome homes
become property of aliens—men of
foreign birth and breeding, many of
whom defy our laws and trample upon
our most sacred rights, and teach that
liberty is license and nothing more!
This is the history of the New England
States, not only in the hill towns, where
the reluctant soil yields but a scanty
living to the hardest labor, but in the
river valleys that are productive and
easily cultivated.

The restless spirit of emigration, the
desire to obey the behest “Go west,
young man,” has seized upon the youth,
and they have forsaken the heritage of
' their fathers, until in many of the for-
merly populous towns on the Connecti-
cut and Housatonic rivers, there are
not enough left to sustain their schools
or churches. Shall this history repeat
itself on the beautiful prairies of Michi-
gan? Doubtless to some extent it will.
Indeed we have the best of evidence
that it has already commenced. But is
there no help for it?

A mother whose oldest son, just
twenty-one, had left the farm for a city
life said to me that his father felt as if
he had lost his right arm. And many
a father has been through the same
experience, to be repeated over and
over again, as his younger sons come to
maturity. It is only a confirmation of
the old lady’s version of one of Solo-
mon’s proverbs, “ Bring up a child and
away he’ll go.”

Of course if a man is the fortunate
father of as many sons as the patriarch
Jacob, or even half as many, he can
hardly hope to keep them all at home
with him. But also, such riches are
seldom the inheritance of the American
born citizen at the present time.
Therefore such a contingency has no
place in our discussion. The question
returnsto us, how shall this defection,
which we all deplore, be prevented?
Well, I frankly confess to you that I
do not know, but I have my own opinion.
It is a serious matter and one that re-
quires the wisest treatment; and it may
seem presumptuous for me to have any
opinion about it. But is it not true that
an outsider who has no personal interest
at stake may sometimes observe the
trend of events, and even their hidden
causes, which those who are directly
concerned have become so familiar with
as not to notice at all? The point of

 

view of those most nearly interested-—
the father and mother for instance—is
not remote enough for them to obtain a
good perspective, and so to observe the
effect of little things upon their chil-
dren’s minds, even their grown up
children.

Now in my intercourse with farmers’
families I have noticed that they often
speak of their work as the hardest in
the world, both for the men and women;
and this at the present time when all
manner of machinery has been invented
to lighten their labors. Such com-
plaints would have been more reason—
able when every hill of corn was
planted with the hand and cultivated
with the hoe, when hand scythes and
sickles did the work of modern mowers
and reapers, and the flail that of the
steam threshers. Dr. Franklin. wrote

“ He that by the plow would thrive.
Himself must either hold or drive.”

a proverb that should now be revised

to read

“ He that by the plow would thrive.
May ride the plow, and also drive."

It has occurred to me that if farmers
and farmers’ wives would often dwell
upon the pleasant features of their oc-
cupation, if they would magnify the
spirit of independence which it is every
landowner’s privilege to possess, even
when crops are poor and prices low,
and taxes high; if they would more gen-
erally manifest an interest in cultivat-
ing the soil because of its wonderful
powers of production—“ first the blade,
then the ear, after that the full corn in
the ear,” each plant bearing seed after
its kind—if they would speak of these
things and enlarge upon them, and not
always determine the value of their
labor according to the number of dollars
and cents which it brings in; in short,
if they would talk their business up in
the highest sense, and not down by de-
preciating everything connected with
it, they might possibly find their chil-
dren interested in it, almost as if it were
one of the fine arts. '

There is enough in the occupation of
the tiller of the soil, if he has ordinary
powers of observation, even though he
be an unlearned man, tobroaden his un-
derstanding and quicken and enlarge
all of his mental faculties, no matter
how richly he may be endowed by
nature.

Senator Evarts, of New York, says:
“When I left college I was very favor-
ably impressed with the life of afarmer.
In fact, through all my life I have had a
passion for farming, and I now own two
large farms, one in Vermont of one
thousand acres, and another in Mary-
land of about the same size.” It is true
Mr. Evarts farms for pleasure and not
for profit. He has a most laborious pro-
fession, and farming is his pastime.
But if any intelligent farmer will bring
his best to bear upon his business, pur-
suing it as if he had apassion for it, and
not merely as a means of getting a
living, would he not ennoble the calling
and secure the living at the same time?

 

And might. not this have the effect of
attaching his sons to their father’s pur—
suits? Not always perhaps, but oftener
than under other and opposite condi-
tions?

And the farmer’s wife and daughters
—whose sympathies are frequently with
the boys in their ambition for a broader
and easier life—might they not make
the farm a little more attractive by
talking it up and not down? Said a
young lady in Richland to me, “ I don’t
blame my brother for wanting to leave
the farm, he has to work so hard and
has so little to Show for it.” I thought,
but did not say, if there is any occupa-
tion whereby young men expect to
succeed without hard work with head
or hands, or both, they are liable to be
disappointed, and deserve to be. “In
the sweat of thy brow shalt thou eat
bread,” is true metaphorically if not
actually of other callings than the
farmer’s. Let us suppose the mother
and sister of this y0ung man had urged
him to wait a while before leaving
home, rather than encouraged his try-
ing to better his condition. Suppose
they had made more of the advantages
of life in the country, its social ad-
vantages especially, for no class of
young men have ahigher social posi-
tion in their own community than
farmers’ sons who are worthy, con-
trasting with this the long years that
must intervene before one can hope to
reach the top of the social ladder in city
or town; adding also the better pros-
pects of being honored in other ways
deemed desirable, in the country than
among the city born and bred. Suppose
they had talked the old life up and not
down, avoiding with a true woman’s
tact any allusion tothe dangers which
would beset his way in the city (for young
people are sensitive, they all feel forti-
fied against temptations), would he not
have been more likely to remain upon
the farm a few years longer, and per-
haps for a lifetime? I know that young
men are apt to be masterful and deter-
mined to have their own way at all
hazards; but sometimes they can be
coaxed.

Most mothers are ambitious for their
daughters to do better in life than they
have done themselves. This means a
better education, a higher position in
the world and greater : freedom from
care and toil. A mother’s love, some-
times so short-sighted, would shield
her daughters from the very discipline
that has been the means of her own de-
velopment, and so it comes to pass that
farmers’ sons who follow their fathers’
business are often looked upon as in-
eligible as husbands for farmers’
daughters. I wonder why? It is true
their hands are brown, and sometimes
dirty from contact with the soil. But
such dirt will all wash off, which can

not be said of some soils. No amount
of soap and water can wash away the

filth that defiles some men’s hands, no
matter how white and clean they look.

 


 

4: The Household.

 

'In Michigan today, farmers’ sons have
‘the same advantages of education that
others have. They are also taught the
refinements of a gentle man—“ the small,
sweet courtesies of life” the poet calls
them: audI have no doubt such will
:make the very best of husbands.
Mothers, you who have marriageable
rdaughters, talk these young men and
their occupation up and not down.
They are a thousand times more de-
sirable as sons-in-law than many mer-
chants and professional men, or even
commercial travellers who visit home
"but once or twice a month.

One has said: “The highest culture
loves most the sweets of simplicity, and
it is a mistake to suppose that life is re-
.flned because it is luxurious, and culti-
wated because it is unnatural.”

It may be outside my theme, but bear
with me while I say if farm life is to
be made attractive don’t work the boys
too hard. The fiber of a young man’s
muscle at twenty and some years be-
;yond, is not so tough as his father’s at
forty-five or fifty. A boy in his teens
needs more sleep than he will ten years
later. This is not my opinion simply,
but is vouched for by eminent physiol—
ogists. So I put in a plea for growing
boys, that they be allowed an hour or
two more sleep than their fathers.
Then again, as Dr. Beecher advised
concerning young ministers, “let
natur caper.” I have noticed that
colts caper under check more than
steady-going old horses. Oh! if fathers
would never forget that they were once
boys themselves, what a deal of friction
would be avoided!

A few years ago, as superintendent of
our Sunday School, I had to appoint a
number of committees to arrange for
our annual picnic at Gull Lake, among
others, one of young men to provide
teams. A young man appointed upon
this committee called upon me and said
it would be impossible for him to furnish
a herse unless he could borrow one of
a neighbor. “ Why,” said I, “I thought
you had a great many horses at your
place.” “No,” he said, “we have
only thirteen this year; three three-
horse teazns and two double ones. We
are putting in one hundred and twenty
acres of wheat, and are a little late
about it; we can't possibly spare a
horse.” Iexpresscd the hepe that his
sisters could attend the picnic, and he
replied “they wanted to very much,
but they probably couldn’t get there or
even to the church (two miles distant)
unless they had a chance to ride with
the others.” And they did not go.

That young man left the farm the
next year, and since then his two
younger brothers have done the same.
Ido not know why. but I submit that
when a young man works faithfully all
summer, until the very last of August,
it is a little hard if he can not have the
use of one horse out of thirteen to carry

his own sister, or some other fellow’s
sister, to a Sunday School picnic.

 

INFORMATION WANTED.

 

Perhaps some reader of the HOUSE-
HOLD can give me information about
Grenville, Ont. I am very anxious to
hear something about the place, and
have read every book or magazine
article treating of Canada for this
purpose, but so far have found nothing.
I would like to learn whether it has
changed much and Whether there are
any traces or memories of the “Rising
Sun Tavern,” and whether the grave-
yard that sixty years ago surrounded a
tiny chapel is yet the sleeping place of
the “rude forefathers of the hamlet.”

The most pathetic and heartrending
story I ever heard occurred in Gren-
ville, more than fifty years ago; not
that I was there at the time, but the
sweetest old lady friend I have was;
and she has touched. my sympathies
very keenly by relating it.

Has the author of the “Cloudy Week”
been discovered? That touching nar-
rative was quite acceptable to me.

MRS. if. H. MENAUGH.
81‘. hours, Mo.

 

[Our correspondent must excuse the
Editor’s modesty, which is too great to
permit her to publish all the kind and
flattering praises of the little HOUSE-
HOLD which M. H. M. writes. Space is
too valuable for us to use it to tell how
good the HOUSEHOLD is. Which bread
recipe is wanted by our correspondent?
We have published anumber.—ED.]

___....___.
ABOUT MOTES.

 

Mrs. W. J. G. sends us a clipping
from Harper’s Bazar relative to clear-
ing rooms and closets infested by moths
of those little pests. She remarks the
plan would seem admirable if the fumes
of the camphor would not affect the
colors of carpets and upholstery. We
do not think damage would result from
such cause. Gum camphor is used
without harm in the packing away of
furs and woolen goods and the odor is
often very strong. And in a room
where moths are very numerous one
would prefer a possible fading to entire
destruction by the tiny ravagers.

“Close all the windows and all doors
leading from the room about to undergo
treatment, open wide each drawer and
closet, and hang the contents over
chairs or open a. clothes~horse brought
into the room for the occasion. Take a
piece of gum-camphor as large as a
hazel-nut for an ordinary room (as large
as a walnut for a room 20x16), put in an
iron pot, and place the latter within
another iron pot or upon an iron stand.
Set fire to the camphor. It burns very
fiercely, so set it at a safe distance from
furniture or hangings; the middle of
the room is the best place for it, unless
this be directly under a chandelier, in
which case it can be placed more toward
the side, as the heat is apt to injure the
gilding or bronze. The dense smoke
soon permeates every nook and corner

 

and suffocates every insect that inhales
it. Canary birds or goldfish are to be
carried from the room before beginning
operations, and as soon as the camphor
begins to burn, the operator may leave
the room, as, provided she has taken
the above precautions, there Will.be no
danger of the fire spreading. The
camphor will burn from a quarter to
half an hour, but it can be extinguished
at any moment by placing over it a
stove lid or the cover of the pot. Let
the smoke remain in the room about
half an hour, then open the windows
wide, leaving them so all day. After a
few hours’ airing the traces of smoke
will be scarcely noticeable. All the
rooms can be treated thus in succession
or all at once, a care being taken to
guard against fire.”

In putting away winter clothing, the
great point is to be absolutely sure .no
ambitious moth has deposited her eggs
upon the garment to be packed. Care-
ful scrutiny, a good sunning, and a
thorough brushing given early in the
season before the moths begin to fly
make us reasonably sure. Then if we
wrap closely in papers and cloths, put
into linen bags, or seal in tight boxes
by pasting strips of cloth or paper over
the covers, we may rest easy. Coarse
salt sprinkled over the carpets, es-
pecially under the furniture, and then
swept off, is a good preventive of
damage by moths.

DON’t you think Mr. Baker has been
quite sufficiently punished for his “ de-
claration of independence?” Suppose
we have mercy upon him and drop the
discussion of his heresy. Under this
ruling, several of our correspondents
will understand why their communica-
tions do not appear. It is a great thing
to know when our adversary is routed.

 

MRS. W. J. G., of Howell, says: “I
cannot understand what “ blind brown
earthworm” Clara Belle Southwell
means; it must be a stranger to me.
Since I took up the earth cure ten years
ago I am not so much afraid of worms
as to prevent my finding out something
about them, and as far as my knowledge
of them extends all that become winged
or butterflies have eyes as worms.”

..__.........._._
Useful Recipes.

 

PBUNE PUDDING.-—l’runes and all other
dried fruits should either be soaked over
night. after many times washing, and then
put on in cold water and slowly simmered
for home at a low temperature, or stewed
six or eight hours without soaking; in either
case hardly let them more than keep hot, as
the high temperature toughens them. After
cooking as above, pick the prunes to pieces,
having had a pint bowl full when you com.
menced; sweeten to taste and when warm

_mix lightly through it, leaving in a little

juice, the whi'es of three thoroughly well-
beaten eggs. This is to be placed in the
oven until a crisp macaroondike crust forms
over the tap, and then eaten with cream.