DETROIT, SEPT. 5, 1891.

 

 

 

 

THE {iOUSEHOLD-usup'piemenh

DRIFI‘ING AWAY. ,

Drifting away from each other.
Silently drifting apart,
. Nothing between but the cold world’s screen,
Nothing to lose but a heart.

Only two lives dividing
More and more every day:
‘ Only one soul from another soul
Steadily drifting away.

Only a man’s heart striving

- Bitterly hard wi . ' 00m;
Only a hand. tender 6.
Slipping away in the g .

Nothing of doubt or wrong.
Nothing that either can cure;

Nothing to shame. nothing to blame.
Nothing to do but endure.

The world cannot stand still.
Tides ebb, and women change;

Nothing here that is worth a tear.
One love less-nothing strange.

Drifting away from each other,
Steadily drifting apart——

No wrong to each that the world can reach.
Nothing lost but a heart.

 

TEE EXPOSITION .

 

The third annual exhibit of the De-
troit Exposition Association closed on
Friday of this week, and despite the dis-
mal prophecies of failure, was a very
good show and fairly well attended, con-
sidering the fact that the G. A. R. en-
campment drew a large contingent of
those who could afford but one outing
and chose it in preference to the Ex-
po ition. Our local merchants rather
sli hted the Exposition; Newland,
Mabley & 00., Buhl, and others who in
previous years made large exhibits
were conspicuously absent. Yet there
were a number of interesting exhibits,
and the large building was pretty well
filled with things worth being looked
at. There was as usual. the rattle of
sewing machines and of agents’ tongues
extolling them mingled w1th piano and
organ music, played with the loud pedal
down and all the stops out, to compete
with the whir of the great Westing-
house engines which furnished the
power to move the machinery. There
was every conceivable style of vehicle,
from the child’s pony cart to Madame’s

close coupe and her husband’s road.

wagon, all so immaculate in varnish .it
would seem a sin to get them muddy.
The whole turnout was represented.
A very rigid and entirely English
coachman sat upon the box holding the
lines over life size wooden horses

  

caparisoned in the finest mounted har-
ness, amost imposing spectacle which
wonderfully impressed the children.
The Peninsular, Michigan and Jewel
Stove Works made exhibits of what can
be done with iron and nickel, and really,
if I had to do the cooking on some of
those Jewel ranges I should feel it nec-
essary to curl my bangs afresh and don
an immaculate white apron to be in har-
mony with their spick-and-span-ness.
The virtues of natural gas and fuel oil
were exemplified, and women especially
seemed deéply impi‘essed by the merits
of a smokeless, ashless fuel, and fires
kindled by simply turning a screw and
applying a match. The U. S. Baking

' Company made an appetizing exhibit

of fancy bakers’ goods; several boxes of
samples were very inviting and we
stood around and looked as hungry as
we could as long as our self-respect
would permit, but didn’t get even a
cracker. ,

Among the industries represented
was cigar-making, the air about being
redolent with that perfume so attractive
to mankind. Beals & Selkirk were
making valises; the Michigan Art Glass
Co., of this city, had men making
stained glass windows; a workman had
a pattern before him and was filling in
with slips bearing the numbers of the
bits of glass which were to complete it,
while the light from an adjoining win-
dow shone beautifully brilliant through
some completed designs. The light-
ning artist was there ready to do your
portrait while you waited, and his
facility of execution was only equaled
by your astonishment at the result; his
likenesses were one remove from the
average newspaper out. And there
were card writers and vendors of cheap
jewelry; Azidurian the Armenian with
his fez and his “attar of roses” and
sandalwood fans made out of American
cherry trees; great bales of cork wood
from Africa, Spain and Portugal; and
cocoa pods and cocoa beans and samples
of baking-powder and catsup and mince
pies that hadn’t a wholesome com-
plexion, and—well, that’s about all, ex-
cept the creamery supplies and the mar
chinery and the phonographs that gave
you aconcert solely for your individual
benefit for a nickel, and the electrical
contrivances and pretty colored lights
of the Detroit Electrical Co.

 

Many women paused bv the patent

dishwasher, a series of wire racks in a
galvanized iron receptacle, the cleans-
ing being done by throwing the water
among and over them by turning a
crank. Price, $20. Most women sighed
and turned away. They knew they
would continue to wash dishes with a
rag three times 365 days in a year.
while their husbands paid $40 for a har-
row to use ten day.

The exhibit of women’s work com~
prised collections of fancy work. crazy
quilts, samples of knit and crocheted
lace, perfume bottles dressed in petti<
coats, hand painted sachets and screens,
embroidered doileys and table centres—
of the latter several were very hand
some—and some atrocious aggregations
of red and 'white calico in the shape of
bedquilts. \Vomen’s work! I wonder
when women will have. something to
show for their toil besides pincushions
and crocheted things! The average
woman’s labor doesn’t crystallize in that
shape, unfortunatelv.

Gamble & Partridge, carpet mer-
chants of this city, made the most in-
teresting exhibit in the main building.
The great power loom which attracted
so much attention two years ago and in
which you could see the carpet grow a
quarter of a yard as you watched the
swift-flying shuttles dodge in and out
among the threads was not there,
but the domestic process of manufactur-
ing the useful but not particularly
beautiful rag carpet was going on; and
anice old lady in costume of Quaker
simplicity and diamond ear-rings was
spinning in an old fashioned interior,
with the brass andirons, bellows, can-
dlesticks, and rude wooden furniture,
not forgetting the little wooden cradle
with its patchwork quilt, which made
up the appointments of many happy
though humble homes, not so many
years ago but some of us can remember
them. Here the Armenian Manoog
Shirinian had pitched the strip of
striped cloth which answered for his ~
tent, and with an upright frame before
him, was making a rug after the fashion .
which prevailed among his countrymen,
six hundred years ago. A little tuft of
wool was chosen, and with a deft twist
tied among threads of the warp, and
then another and another; and it seems
well that in Armenia time and human
toil count for little, for it would require,

 

by that slow process, a lifetime of


 

2 . The Household.

 

diligence to make the rug for which a
modern fancier pays a few hundred
dollars. Here were Angora goats with
their long lustrous fleeces, very much
at home in their unusual surroundings.
“What queer looking sheep them is! ”
quoth an old lady over my shoulder.
But the two dromedaries captivated me.
I found them fascinatingly ugly. One
of them in particular manifested a
high-minded, lofty disdain of the
curious crowd which was most amusing
—and absolutely crushing. I never
felt so perfectly subdued in my life as I
did standing before that splay-footed
monstrosity, under the spell of his
calm contemptuous eye and serene as-
sumption of superiority. It was as if he
recognized what a burlesque he is in
form and figure, and like some people
I have known, silenced ridicule and
sarcasm by an air of dignified hauteur
which implied commiseration for the
blindness of those unable to appreciate
his actual superiority. He was only
funny when he majestically revolved
his cud with a rotary motion of the
lower jaw strongly suggestive of a girl
chewing gum. Even the irreverent
youth who saluted him with “Ah there,
01d Socks!” failed to "ruffle. his com-
posure, and we left him, confident he
could hold his own in civilization as in
the desert.

Then we took seats on the grand
stand and saw a couple of heats of a
running race in which six horses started
in the first heat and three in the last.
“Little Charlie” took the first, but
when his jockey turned him toward the
judges’ stand, after the heat, he was
the lamest horse you ever saw walk.
Everybody sympathized with the “poor
fellow.” His jockey dismounted and
led him back, while acrowd of men and
bovs surrounded him. Next came a
trotting heat; and then, to every one’s
surprise, “Little Charlie” took posi-
tion for the next running heat and
captured it, too. And to the surprise
and amusement of everybody, he again
limped home a trifle worse than before,
if possible. “Idon‘t like to have my
sympathies excited for nothing,” said
the indignant young girl at my side,
"Little Charlie's a fraud!” And it
did look that way, for if it had been a
selling race, a novice in the tricks of
the turf would not have givenabrass
button for him, unless for future ser-
vice on a peddlar‘s cart. But a gentle-
man told me afterward that the horse
really sprained a tendon but was so
“. game ” that he won the race though
every step was painful to him! “That’s
how thoroughbred blood shows,” he
said; and I thought it true of men and
women as well as horses.

We were among the crowd that
watched the last ascent of the unfor-
tunate Hogan. The balloon made a
beautiful ascension, rising almost per-
pendicularly, then floating gracefully
away as it struck the upper current of
air. When it was so high that the

 

grown man looked likea mere child,
and he should have caught the trapeze
attached to the parachute, thus unfold-
ing it for the descent by his weight,
he was seen to loose his hold. A hoarse
murmur of horror ran through the
crowd; there was aswaying movement
as if every one instinctively turned
away; faces blanched and voices were
hushed in the awful realization of the
tragedy. I wish never to see another
human being dare such a flight, with
the ever present possibility of such an
ending. BEATRIX.

 

VIRGINIUS.

 

Anything pertaining to Roman life
or customs is always intensely interest-
ing to me; and it was with “great ex-
pectations,” which were afterwards
fully realized, that I waited for the
curtain to rise on the first act of Vir-
ginius.

The first act showed Dentatus, a
portly old Roman whose roseate flannel
undershirt exactly matched his com-
plexion, in dispute with some of the
citizens of Rome. His lofty contempt
and haughty bearing would have
brought him rough usage, had not
Icilius appeared on the scene and sum-
marily dismissed the crowd.

Then came Warde as Virginius. He
seemed a typical Roman; strong and
graceful and wearing his toga as Caesar
himself might have worn it. A pretty
scene between him and his daughter
Virginia followed, in which she tacitly
acknowledged her love for Icilius.

My ideal of a Roman maiden has al-
ways been tall and proud with black
hair and eyes, handsome rather than
beautiful. But Virginia, with her
golden hair, and dressed in a white
gown that fell in soft folds around her,
was a picture of loveliness and modesty.
Her betrothal to Icilius followed, but
only on the condition that he, with her
father, should first go to the war which
was then impending. The farewell
scene between the lovers was touching,
but not as much so as the parting of
Virginius with his daughter. Then
one forgot that it was acting, and saw
only the Roman hero bidding farewell
tothe only thing on earth which he
held precious; all for Rome’s sake.

In the next scene the trouble
began. While Virginia spoke with
her uncle Numitorius in the street,
Appius, the magistrate, saw her
and fell in love with her sur-
passing loveliness. He and his friend
Claudius immediately laid plans by
which he might possess her. Claudius,
a mere tool in the hands of Appius,
claimed Virginia as his slave, and we
saw her dragged by him into the
Forum, where the case was judged by
Appius. Owing to the intervention of
Numitorius and Icilius, who arrived
just in time from the seat of war, the
two conspirators were obliged to yield
so far as to‘postpone the case until the
next day, leaving Virginia meanwhile

 

in the care of her uncle. A swift mes-
senger was dispatched for Virginius,
who was found mourning the death of
his old friend and comrade, brave
Dentatus. It is impossible to describe
the way in which he received the news
that his daughter was claimed as a
slave. The strong excitement and
anguish, bravely repressed, were like
reality.

In the next scene Virginia with her
nurse Servia and her uncle, awaited the
arrival of Virginius. As they were
nearly despairing he came, and as he
clasped Virginia in his arms again and
again, his love for her and defiance
and hate for her enemies were oddly
mingled in his words and looks. Boldly
and confidently he led her to the Forum
and before the magistrate. But his
confidence was soon destroyed and wild
agony took its place, for a slave belong—
ing to Claudius swore that Virginia
was her child; and this, according to
the Roman law, was evidence which
must stand again - , other. Appius
pronounced Wt for Claudius,
and the troop were called in to drive
out the friends of Virginius. The
stolidity and blind obedience of the
Roman soldier were well illustrated.
Virginius himself was allowed a few
minutes in which to take leave of his
daughter. His face showed sorrow and
horror; he trembled, and as he stood
half supporting Virginia. and half lean-
ing on her, he seemed suddenly an old
man, feeble and incapable of action.
But while Appius and Claudius talked
with. faces half turned aside, with tot-
tering steps Virginius crossed the floor
and concealed a knife in the folds of his
toga. Then when Appius turned and
demanded that Virginia should be
handed over to Claudius, be seized the
knife, and crying that it was to save
her honor, thrust it into his daughter’s
heart.

The last act was the most pitiful of
all, for it showed Virginius mad, and
calling piteously for his daughter,
whom he said was “long time a-com-
ing.” Appius was in prison, and would
have taken his own life with poison
had not Claudius come to him, and
cheered him with the hope that with
Virginius insane his own liberty would

soon be obtained. But scarcely had '

Claudius gone when Virginius came
and commanded Appius to give him
back his daughter. In vain Appius
tried to soothe him. Virginius with a
madman’s fury and strength strangled
the wretch before help could arrive. As
he knelt over his victim Numitorius
and Icilius came, and the latter pre-
sented to him the urn containing the
ashes of Virginia. To a prosaic mind
the urn was too suggestive of a little

brown jug, and the dignity and sub-
limity of the scene would have «been
better maintained without it. But
there was nothing ridiculous in the
death of Virginius, upon which the cur-
tain fell immediately after this presen~
tation.

PORT HURON. E. C.

 

ann‘HAMAAS-Lh'd

.-_L.__._L_4_k.k

 


The Household.

 

3

 

TEE POESIBILITIES WITHIN REACH
OF AMERICAN WOMEN AND THEIR
INCAPACITY FOR BUSINESS.

 

:LPaper read by Miss Julia Ball before the Web-
star Farmers’ Club. Aug. 18th. 1891.!

The wonders that have been accom-
plished for woman in the present cen-
tury are difficult for even the most
careful student to comprehend. In the
old civilizations it was considered a dis—
grace to be born a woman, and a man
would thank his stars that he was born
neither a slave or a woman. The
mothers of the Athenian people were
slaves; with them woman was but sel-
dom the subject of intellectual cultiva-
tion—her home was at the same time
her prison— er duties the drudgery of
the family and the household; she was
neither allowed to direct the tastes nor
to enliven the pleasures of society. Her
value was estimated by her utility. The
Athenian female was beautiful; she was
the model for the sculptor and the
painter; but the face that formed the
highest perfection of human beauty was
seldom lighted by the fire cultivated
genius. and the fair and p011 ed brow
but rarely exhibited the impress of the
divinity of thought.

With us woman is at once the bond
and charm of society. She associates in
'the domestic circle as its greatest bless-
ing; while she provides for its comfort,
she secures its refinement; while she
purifies the habits, she exalts the
tastes of society, and gives tone and
character to the circle she adorns; as
one writer has said, “In youth our
guiding star, in manhood the light of
our homes, in old age the consoler of
our sorrors.” .

We are living in the first century
‘of woman; a century exuberant with
woman’s advancement, and a precursor
'of her still greater progress, for woman
must advance; she must see for herself;
the times demand it. In spite of all the
antagonism that has been brought to
bear upon woman, she could not be
kept;e dOWE.

é? * -X- .
Now, woman aspires to all the fields
of labor; it has become the fashion to
work. We have no more use for idle
girls and women. There is a field large
enough for all to enter and plenty to
do. Yes, truly has it been said, all oc-
ncupations are open to woman, and she
has demonstrated her ability to occupy
them; but as a class how is she filling
them? Something is lacking; what is
it? Woman lacks capacity for business.
I take it for granted that men conduct
all branches of business—manufactor-
ing, mercantile, professional and even
educational—more successfully and
systematically than women. To the
minds of you who doubt this last state-
ment, come the brilliant lights I have
either named or referred to. But are
they not shining exceptions? And these
exceptions only serve to make the sur-
rounding gloom more apparent. She
who will not recognize the above truth
is a short-sighted champion of her sex;

 

and she who, seeing the justice of the
reprobation throws upon “ tyrant man”
the blame of the present condition of
affairs, and in order to reverse the
position of governed and governors,
urges the downtrodden to rebellion,
offers, instead of a remedy, only an in-
toxicating draught.

The young British officer in charge
of the signal service in the war of the
Soudan, being posted upon the top of
the Great Pyramid, was so impressed
with the historic associations that he
telegraphed to the admiral’s ship, just
entering the nearest offing, “Forty
centuries salute you!” The martinct
superior telegraphed back: “None of
your nonsense! Attend to business!”
Here is the underlying cause of the un-
fitness of the average woman for busi-
ness pursuits. She who would earn her
bread after the manner of men, with-
out fear of social expulsion, or favor
offered as a gallant recompense, is
fettered not only by forty but sixty
centuries of precedent. From the time
of the first woman down to the present
day, woman’s has been unpaid labor; for
innumerable generations she has had
her “keep” and pin money for the
asking—upon the manner of asking and
the humor of her lord depended the
quantity and quality. It is cruelly irra-
tional to expect woman With her rigid
muscles to display such action as man.
An apt representation of the modern
woman is the Indian dervish whose
arm is upheld in prayer week after
week until he cannot lower it. But
salary is not the only difference as re-
gards labor. Take as an example, the
stores where women are employed as
sales-clerks. While the sales-lady who
waits upon you is listlessly displaying
the goods she is paid to exhibit to the
best advantage, she may carry on a
lively, though perhaps disjointed gossip
with her mates, hum a tune, etc., while
you, in spite of all this, conduct your
purchases. This, all in sight and hear-
ing of the floor-walker, who for any one
of these offences against common
courtesy would arraign asalesman. Not
only do we find these peculiarities of
feminine levity in the stores, but in al-
most all other occupations. These
idiosyncrasies, seldom called faults,
keep wages down.

When the office boy enters his
place of business, he leaves all thought
of fun and frolic behind; he is held
strictly to rule, not only to work but as
to deportment. He must be punctual,
move quickly and quietly. He must be
prompt and respectful to employers,
and civil to customer, client and caller,
or he goes. Not so with the women.
Precedent, which they mistake for
nature and one of Heaven’s laws, de-
crees that they must be treated accord-
ing to a certain set of rules—-—men ac-
cording to another and a different.
This is the defect in the way of equal
wages. Women do not work as men do.
A man's life depends upon his labor.

 

With woman it is only a means to an
end. A man takes hold of his business
with both hands. If strength is lacking
here he puts his feet upon it, and if
worse comes to worst, seizes it with his
jaws. His chosen profession is the
rock upon which to build his structure.
Men concentrate every energy upon a
piece of work, knowing it will be
judged by its merit: women work and
watch the clock.

I heard a teacher say, “I only get

twenty dollars a month, so I shall not
work very hard.” You were not hired
to teach a twenty dollar school, nor a
forty, nor a fifty dollar one. You were
hired to teach school. Do your best
and you will get more for your next.
Make yourself necessary to those who
employ you by industry, fidelity and
scrupulous integrity. Put zeal into
your work. Hold yourself responsible
for a higher standard than anybody else
expects of you. Be constant, steadfast
and persevering.
. Some women, espemally those who
have seen better times, and are forced
to earn their living, are always lament-
ing their lot and belittling the em-
ployment which gives them their bread.
They consider the necessity of self-sup-
port a crime committed upon nature
and precedent. To the four winds with
such ideas! All such idols must be
broken down before woman can become
self-supporting, and receive equal
rights and compensation. Be assured
as long as you do not honor your labor,
it will never honor you. Many are the
instances which might be cited would
time permit, in nearly every occupa-
tion, where women degrade themselves
by belittling their work. These things
are not to he smiled at or despised, as
unimportant. They are the motives
and ideas which seriously hinder the
working woman from becoming free and
independent. If she would command
success, she must cease to make work,
with its trials and drawbacks which ac-
company it, a personal matter. When
she takes advantage of being a woman,
she begs the question and sinks into
pauperism by appealing to sentimen-
tality instead of justice. Our woman
criminal appreciates fully that she runs
no risk of such punishment as would be
meted out to an equally guilty man, and
acts upon this persuasion. Native or
foreign, young or old, handsome or
hideous, she plants herself confidently
upon the vantage ground of sex.

What then must be done? What is
essential that this generation shall
have a class of business women who
shall add dignity to their sex, and stop
this hue and cry of being chained by
poverty? This clamor of poverty can
be quelled in only one way, and that is,
first, last and always, to engage in any
allotted labor, even the mostmenial,
with a determined purpose of perform-
ing it, as if it were the one and sole
object in life.

A writer in the Christian Union some

 


 

4 p

The Household.

 

 

time since said: “The boy who will
succeed in the world is he who is con-
tent, for atime, to do two dollars’ worth
of work for a dollar.” This same pre-
cept should apply to business girls as
well; it should be ingrafted into the
heart and brain until it becomes a part
of our very being: a living organ as it
were. There should be a determina-
tion to render even the wallest obliga-
tion thoroughly in every respect. The
compensation to be received should be
lost sight of in the endeavor to do the
work well. The first, skilled work-
manship; last, what price will it com—
mand. Some girls fill places with but
little interest in them. They work
along with no aim at business, only
waiting for the prOposition that makes
them a wife, 'doing something they
abhor. “He that is faithful in that
which is least, is faithful also in much.”

It is a sad truth, that many of those
who are left widows are those women
who were denied all knowledge of busi-
ness principles and methods. How can
practical, sound business men sit idly
by and see their wives and daughters
totally ignorant of business in even its
simplest forms! It is a disorder in
human nature that is seldom even re-
buked. This age is terribly in earnest.
Girls should receive a business educa-
tion. A man who is nfaster of four
trades can learn the fifth and not be
spoiled. The same with woman; let her
develop her capabilities, and when the.
time comes, as come it may, she will
not be compelled to fold her hands
and ask, “What can I do? ” All oc-
cupations are open to woman. Let the
now shining exceptions be the shining
rule. What woman has done, woman
can do—yes, indeed, and much more,
and do it better. When this is true,
and “the laborer is worthy of his hire,”
then will woman fill as well as occupy
these different positions; the wages
will be equal; and no longer will we be
forced to admit that woman lacks
capacity for business, but can sing with
the poet Tennyson,

" lior woman is not undeveloped man. '

lBut diverse: could we make her as the man,

avast. love were slain; his dearest bond is there.

Not like to like. but like in difference.

Yet in the long years liker must they grow;

The man. be more of woman, she of man;

He gain in sweetness and in moral height.

Nor lose fdhe wrestling thews that throws the
wor :

She, mental breadth. npr fail in childward care,

Nor lose the childlike 1n the larger mind;

Till at the last she set herself to man.

Like perfect music unto noble words.”

 

 

' TRYING TO BE A MAN.

 

He was only about fifteen years old,
but, poor fellow! he was tired of being
a _ boy and wanted to be a man. And
I’m afraid lie hadn’t a mother to start
him on the right road, so he was trying
to find the way “ all by his lonely.” He
had paid his twenty cents and climbed
into the carette for a ride through the
park, just like a man, trying so hard to
appear man-like and perfectly oblivious
of everybody about him. It was a warm
day and his winter suit. of hand-ine-

 

down manufacture looked hot and un-
comfortable, but the gaudy watch-chain
with, its two big red seals reconciled
him to wearing it. There was no watch
on the end of the chain, I’m certain,
otherwise he would have had an im-
portant engagement which would have
required its consultation three or four
times in the course of the drive. ‘ He
wore a necktie that was as loud as a
fire alarm, pulled through a ring which
unblushingly proclaimed itself brass as it
hobnobbed with a plated collar button.
His cuff-buttons were so large I‘m sure
they must have made him tired, and
like a pretty girl’s dimples, they were
always an evidence. On one finger of a
dirty hand he wore a mock diamond, and
on all fingers, dirt-rimmed nails. The
decorated hand held a cigar, and at in-
tervals he drew a few whiffs, perfuming
the sweet lake breeze with the incense
of a “two fer a nickel.” He didn’t act
as if he enjoyed it; it was a long time
between puffs, but it was manly to smoke
and he was going to be a man if it did
make him sick. Once he let the weed
go out, and do you think it was so he
could show us he was an old’ hand at it
by pulling out his patent safety match
box and striking a light with a little
flash and explosion? ,And when at a
curve in the road, a puff of air sent a
cloud of smoke directly in the face of
the lady who sat opposite him and she
gasped and turned pale—being one of

the delicately reared girls not brought.

up in smoke like a herring—he re-
mained stolidly oblivious—even when,
at another Vesuvian outburst the pallor
increased and the lady’s companion
made a little stir in a proffer to ex-
change seats with her. I suppose he
thought, “ Dear me, those disagreeable
women think Iought to throw away my
cigar, but if they can’t stand smoke they
shouldn’t ride in public carriages!”
So, by way of asserting his manly in-
dependence he smoked a little more
v1gorously. And when the passengers
dismounted he was first out though his
seat was at the end, stumbling over
everybody’s feet and leaving a mingled
odor of perspiration, patchouly and
tobacco as a souvenir. “Place (.th:
danws” had no share‘in his creed of
being a man.

He wasn’t really a bad-looking boy.
if he‘d been clean, although the archi-
tecture of his nose indicated that he
could never be a great man. You never
saw a great man with an insignificant
nose, and this particular-one seemed to
have had its early aspirations summarily
checked. And perhaps, after all, the
poor lad deserved credit for making as
much of himself as he bad. But it
seemed such a caseof misdirected effort
that I felt sorry for him, and wanted
to tell him, in a kindly way, how to
be something better than a man—a
gentleman. It seems such a pity for
a boy, when he begins to shape himself
and have aspirations beyond being an
“unlicked cub”—-as I’ve heard rough

 

lads sometimes called—to set out with a.
low standard in view, and in trying to»
be a-man. copy only a man‘s faults and
vices. To know that it is better to be
neatly than showily dressed: better to
be clean and have one’s shoes blackened
than wear jewelry: that sham gems are
tawdry and in bad taste; and that the
fit of the clothing is a surer index of
position than its material, is “the be-
ginning of wisdom” in the externals of
a lad’s career. And if the boys could
only know what those they want to
imitate think of them when thev smoke,
or chew, or drink or swear: Even a
grown man regards them half con-
temptuously, half pityingly, when he
sees their efforts to be manly by copy-
ing what he knows are the defects in his
own character, and his own bad habits.
And when a boy forgets that considera-
tion for the feelings of others, especially
for that sex of which man is the natural
protector and guardian, and thought
for their comfort and convenience above
his own; anjw en he spends his money
and makes himself sick and is a
nuisance to other people in his endeavor
to establish a habit which will cost him
hundreds of dollars during his lifetime
and perhaps shorten that life by years,
he is far. far on the wrong road in
trying to be a man. BEATRIX. .2

 

A MOTHER’S EXPEDIENT.

 

A correspondent of the Country Gentle--
man says she had two children whose
chief delight seemed to be in tears.
With or without provocation the tears
would come and the rest of the family
were compelled to seek peace in flight
till the clouds rolled by. She tells how,
after reasoning, coaxing, bribing and
slight punishments had proved ineffec-
tual she finally conquered what was
simply a habit: “Selecting a small, re-
mote room, I tacked on the door of it a
card, bearing in large, printed letters,
these ominous words: CRY ROOM.
This was done simply to lend impres-
siveness to the plan. Then I gave the
little cry-fellows to understand that .
the my instant they commenced to cry
without some good cause, they had to
run—not walk, but positively go on a
dead run to that room, shut the door
tight, and then cry all they wanted to.
There was no restriction placed on the

amount of tears they might shed while
in that room, but they were never to-
come out until the shower was all over.

“Now, so perverse is human nature,
and so attractive are forbidden evils,
that no sooner had they permission to
shed tears to their hearts’ content,
than crying lost its charm. One would
enter the room in a flood of grief, only _
to reappear an instant later with his-
rosy little face quite restored to tran-
quility. It was but a short while when
there was a noticeable difference in the
frequency of their crying ‘ spells,’ and
ere long they were but a disagreeable
memory.”

———.O.———

WANTED—Some short and Spicy let-

ters for the HOUSEHOLD. Write early

and avoid the rush.