DETROIT, JANUARY 5, 1886.

 

TJEIIE HOUSEHOLDamguppIement.

 

A WOIAN’S RIGHTS.

I.

Yes. Gad‘has made me a woman,
And I am content to be
> "Just what He meant, not reaching out
.. ' For other things, since lie
I Who knows me best and loves me most has order
‘ , ed this for me.

A woman, to live my life out
In quiet, womanly ways,
, ,Hearing the far of battle,
Seeing asthrough a haze
The crowding, struggling world of men fight
through their busy days.

‘ I am not strong or valiant,
I would not join the fight
0r jostle with crowds in the h‘ghways
To sully my garments white;
But I have rights as a woman, and here I claim
my right.

The right ofa rose to bloom
In its own sweet, separate way,
With none to question the perfumed pink
, And none to utter a nay
If‘it reaches a root, or points a thorn, as even a
. ' rose tree may.

The right of the lady birch to grow, ,
To grow as the Lord may please,
" By never a sturdy oak rebuked,
Denied nor sun nor breeze,

For all its pliant slenderness, kin to the,

stronger trees .

h

The right to a life of my own——
Not merely a casual hit
-Of somebody else’ s life flung out
' That taking hdld of it,
I may stand as a cipher does, after a numeral writ.

, The right to gather and glean
What food I need and can
'~ From the garnered store of knowledge
Which man has heaped for man,
Taking with free hands freely and after an order-
ed plan.

The right—ah, best and sweetestl
To stand all undismayed
Whenever sorrow or want or sin
call for a woman‘s aid,
With none to cavil or question, by never a look
gainsaid.

. I do not ask for a ballot;
Though very life were at stake,
I would beg for the nobler justice
That men for manhood’s sake
Should g1ve ungrudgingly, nor withhold till I
must fight and take.

‘ The iieet foot and the feeble foot
Both seek the self-same goal,
The weakest soldier’s name is writ
0n the great army roll,
And God, who made man s body strong, made
too the woman’s soul.
—Sman C’ooudgs.

-—-...-——_—

“ We have careful thoughts for the stranger, '
And smiles for the sometimetguest— '
But oft for our own
The bitter tone,
Though we love our own the best. "

A CLEAN SWEEP.

Were I to put the question, Do you
know how to sweep and dust? to any of
the good housekeepers who read the
HOUSEHOLD, I fancy a, stare .of amaze-
ment, followed by indignant affirmation
or silent contempt, would be my answer.
Yet,Iventure to put the question: Do
you know how to perform this simple,
every day task, as it should be? Woman’s
weapon is popularly supposed to be the
broom; does she always wield it wisely
and well? That woman does not who
sets the chairs ahead of her as she sweeps,
whisks the dust back into the air again
with a feather duster, and asserts she has
“swept and dusted; ” but I have often
seen this done even by those who pique
themselves on their good housekeeping,
which encourages me in the belief that
all women do not know, or at least prac—
tice, the best way.

My own method, I have the assurance
to believe, comes as near being “ a clean
sweep ” as any practised by housekeepers;
it is next th1ng to a house-cleaning, not
so very much more trouble than the mul—
tiplied sweepings usual, while the results
are more satisfactory, at least to me. The
grand sweeping day I aim to have come
once a month—I confess it does not al-
ways—between times I “ brush up ” and
dust. I have one large room with alcove
of! it as large as an ordinary bedroom,
and a closet, and I struggle with dust
from the street 1n summer, and dust from
a coal. stove in winter, never able to
,answer that old conundrum: Where does
all the dirt come from?

When I determine on a grand “ clarin’
up time,” the first step is to tie up my
head in an old veil, don a pair of old
gloves and abig apron, heave a sigh, and
begin. First, the ivy vine that twines
round my mirror must be removed; then
the small pictures, vases and little orna-
ments are wiped on a clean white cloth
and packed in the bureau and desk
drawers, the bureau and table scarfs are
”shaken and also laid away, and the rugs
pitched down the back stairs to await

‘ further development. All movable ar-

ticles of furniture are dusted and set out
in the hall; the books removed from the
bookcase, which was made to order by
a man who don’t believe in shams, and
hence can be advantageously handled
only by one possessing the strength of
Goliah of Gath, though I do manage to

 

move it sufficiently to sweep under it.
When all movable articles are set outside

 

the room, the carpet is thoroughly swept,
with short, quick strokes of the broom,
and particular attention to the corners
and sides. Then Igo over it again, in
the same fashion, and frankly confess
that I find plenty of what I am looking
Ion—dirt. Then, while the dust is set-
tling, I revive exhausted nature with an
apple or orange, or whatever fruit may be
in season, and with a softcloth, wash the
dust from my ivy’s leaves. Then I “ get
up my muscle” by giving the rugs a
thorough shaking and sweeping, and
when there is snow on the ground sweep
them off with the dry snow, which

seems to clean them nicely. A clean cloth '

pinned over the broom removes the dust

from the wall, and the pictures which“

are too cumbersome to take down are
carefully wiped. When the dust has
well settled, I take a couple of quarts of
water, add a teaspoonful of ammonia,
and with a cloth wrung out of this, go
over the carpet, wringing the cloth out
frequently, and always so dry that it will
just take up the dust without dampening
the carpet. Ilike this better than dip-

ping the broom in water, or sprinkling '

the floor with cornmeal, sawdust or snow,
and I have tried them all. At this stage
of the proceedings, the door-bell gener-
ally rings and callers are announced. I
set my teeth well together to keep from
saying something naughty, wonder why
1n the name of sense people can’t stay at
home when other people are busy, and by
way of taking to myself Hamlet’s

advice to his mother, “Assume a virtue.

if you have it not,” don my “company
smile ” as l doif my livery of labor, and
proceed with what grace I may to en-
tertain my guests. Recenoue a moutom,
the next step is to wipe, with a damp
cloth, the baseboards, window sashes
and sills, and blinds, and if finger marks
are on the doors ‘fnow is the time for
disappearing.” Next, the furniture not
removed is also wiped with a damp—and
please observe there is a difierence be-
tween damp and wet—cloth, a process
conducive to cleanliness but not, I admit,
to polish, but the latter is maintained by
alittle—a very little, sweetoil on a woolen
cloth.

It is now an easy task to replace the

already dusted furniture and brie a- brac; '

the books piled as they belong on the
book shelves are returned by the armful,

and when the last thing, that courageous
German' 1vy that grows on in spite of dust
and gas, coal and want of sunshine, and
shines so bright after its bath, is again

 

».«-u‘v.~._aaw;,—}i~pw new“ ‘ “7 "

rsfi-WWE :.

 


 
   

2 ' ' THE HOUSEHOLD-1~

l

  

.‘b H}
\y \I\

 

trained in its place, I feel a virtuous con- These were about three-fourths of a yard
sciousness that my room is as clean as in length, and gored to fit the bottom of
it is possible to make it, without taking the waist. A plain slip finished his

up the carpet. It is very exasperating in
summer, to find, two hours later, an im-

,pa1pable powder of “ the bloom of Time”
in a thin film over every polished surface;
the fine dust raised by every passing
vehicle sifts through every crack, and
deposits itself everywhere in spite of
one’s best endeavor. I venture the as-
sertion that country housekeepers know
little of the! true meaning of dust; it
comes “like the gentle dew from heaven,”
none know whence, how, or when, only
that it is there.‘

I am rather particular about my duster.
Ihave no use for a bunch of feathers
fastened to a stick, with which to
flirt the dust into the air only to
settle on every article again. A. piece
of old linen a yard square, (part of
an old tablecloth is excellent) hemmed
and kept for the purpose, is my choice,
being soft, it takes up the dust
well; for' the stove, I like an old
woolen stocking top. These dusters are
kept especially for the purpose; are
thoroughly shaken when 'done with, and
sent to the wash when soiled.

There is a popular belief that a dark
carpet shows dust and soil less than a
light one; my experience with both leads
me to give the preference to light, “ by a
large majority." The light: carpet—by
which I mean of course not the very light
ones designed for boudoirs and drawing
rooms, but the old gold, greys, browns.
etc., [which are classed as “medium
light” by the carpet dealers—does not
show wear nearly as soon as the dark,
(and looks better when it is worn.

' BEATRIX.

——+o¢————
THE STORY OF NUMBER
”THREE.

 

He was not urgently invited, but just
before our first December blizzard, he
came and proceeded to take possession of
the warmest corner of our home and
hearts. He had no sooner announced
himself asa new member of our family
than a feeling of love and welcome re—

. sponded which will surely grow with his
growth, strengthen with his strength, and
defy even the power of death to quench.
Wrapped up as warm as a mufiin in an
old shawl, by a glowing fire, he awaited
the refining influence of a bath and
clothing. The bath was given with every
precaution against a chill. Only a por-
tion of the body was exposed at once,
and this was well covered while another

- was being washed. Very little soap was
used, and‘no water allowed to enter the
eyes. When ready for his wardrobe, he
found it far from elaborate, but owing to
the fact of being “ No. 3,” nearly all the
garments possessed the great merit of
softness and entire freedom from starch.
The band was of canton flannel, over-
cast on’ the long edge'and hemmed at the
ends for pinning. Next was a soft muslin
long-sleeved shirt, and then a flamie
Waist, 'with long sleeves, to which were

f covering with a paste of starch, and ex-

toilette, with the exception of the pinning
blanket, which I have omitted. This
garment was of shaker flannel, and
finished with one of those wide bapd‘s,
but we expect'him to kick his way out of
that in a few weeks. Soon after‘hiis
toilette was 'finished he began to make it
known that he was uncomfortable and
when the cause was looked for, they de-
cided that he needed "warming up.” ‘He
was too small to “reverse the electrical
currents" after the fashion of “ Minerva,"
so a half-pint brandy bottle was filled
with warm water, tightly corked, and
laid over his stomach with his tiny hands
apparently holding it there. This gave
rather a comical look to .a son of tem-
perance advocates, but its influence, sup-
plemented by another at his feet, soon
stilled his swinish squeaking, and he
fell into a peaceful slumber which
lasted for hours. When he awoke he
called for refreshment and took that
which wise Dame Nature provided; no
physio, no saffron for the complexion
was given, and still he thrived and grew
day by day. His bath was given at a
regular hour, water a trifle warm to the
check was used, no soap applied; while a;
this time and at evening his body and
limbs were rubbed with the palm of the
hand as briskly as the tender skin would.
hear. When he began to suffer from
“snuflies,” (if Beatrix has a scientific
name for this, let her bring it forth),
sweet cream was rubbed over the bridge
of his nose, and by means of a feather
applied as far up the nostril as possible.
When colic came—and come it must-—
we gave nothing except plenty 6f tender
patting, and changing of position to aid
in gulping up the troublesome gas.
Warmed feet and hands by the fire, and
sometimes loosened his hands and laid a
warm wet cloth over stomach and bowels.
Occasionally the bottle so early intro—
ducd was again filled and applied, and—
well, we worried along, with the trouble,
assured by past experience that it would
not kill him, and he would outgrow it in
the course of a few weeks. Every
sympathetic matron has a favorite remedy
for colic infantile, and the first baby
usually gets the benefit of all heard of,
but a mother soon finds that, though they
may give temporary relief, they all tend
to cause constipation, and thus really in—
crease the trouble.
The baby I write of was not troubled
with chafing, as his mother was too busy
to over- wash him. To keep him dry and
warm we considered the main points, and
water was seldom used upon him except
at the bath. This story might be con-

tinued to numberless chapters, but from
regard for our readers’ patience and
several other_items, we will let “ No. 3”
how himself out of the Hoesnnom).

A. H. J.
Tnorus.

 

pouring boiling water on the spot, then

posing to strong sunlight. Fresh stains
of ink can be taken out by washing in

TEA or fruit stains can be taken out by '

THE INDICATIQNS 0F INSANITY.

 

I have been reading lately a treatise on
the early indications of insanity, which I
found very interesting and instructive;
and as mental diseases .seem to be becom-
ing more and more common, I make no
apology for reproducing in the Housm-
now a few of the leading and first ob-.
served symptoms in this disease, which
can most truly be called ‘-‘a living death.”
In attempting to condense within the
necessarily brief limits of the Housin-
HOLD so comprehensive a work much must
be left, untouched, and only the salient
points can be given, but these may be
sufiicient to awaken attention, and help"
us diagnose a disturbed mental condition
and seek the proper cure, for it is now
well khown that insanity, instead of be-
inga “visitation of God’s displeasure,”
as our forefathers generally regarded it.
is a disease, having for its cause the neg-
lect, or direct or incidental infraction
of the established laws of physical or
mental health, and that in its earlier
stages it can as often be ‘ controlled or
cured as any other disease, except, per-
haps, in the case of hereditary ten-
dency. '

The recognition of the theory that the
brain is the instrument of the mind, and
what we call insanity is due to physical
disease of that organ, was the first step
toward the knowledge of the disease and
its treatment. This may result from some.
form of ill-health, in which the nutrition
of the brain is affected, or from excessive-
mental action. , Insanity is practically
shown by a change in the disposition,
sentiments, habits, desires or conduct, in~
duced by and founded on a diseased state
of the brain. Evidently there can be no
arbitrary standard, but the changes in the
individual must be the guide.

The occurrence of morbid dreams, says
Dr. Andrews, is one of the first precursors
of insanity, especially where constant,
and without a definite or’sufiioient ex—
citing cause, indicating disorder of the
brain and nervous system. Of greater
importance and more frequency is im—
pairment of the function of sleep,
which may vary from a simple state of
wakefulness to persistent sleeplessness.
In normal health sleep naturally follows
activity; action. and repose being the
physiological sequence, but in a disorder-
ed state of the brain action is often but
the spur to increase activity. From this
disturbance of the circulation there re-

prolongs the excitement. .

Among physical indications of dis-
orderedmentality, our author mentions
the following combination of symptom
indicative of danger: Loss of appetite,
indigestion, ' with pain, eructations,
flatulence, heart-burn, diminished circu~
lation, irregular heart action, harsh and
dry skin, loss of. flesh to emaciation and
general depression of the whole organ-
ism. Another combination of symp-
toms. is increased heart action, face
flushed, eyes injected, ravenous appetite
with loss of flesh; but these symptoms

 

 

_ . , buttoned the flannel and cotton skirts.

i, l

.: y
I .~ ,.-

  

- nu." .A
‘. I ‘

skim milk.

 

 
   
  

.1
3* ~ s.

 

sults an irritability of nerve tissue which _

 

 
   

also attend certain febrile mum: ”d

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the
per


   

  

         
        
   
        
       
     
       
        
 
     
      
    
   
   
     
    
      
      
        
      
   
    
  
   
    
  
 
   
 
   
   
 
  
   
   
   
 
  
  
   
  
  
    
  
  
   
    
   
 
   
       

VIA-"1.3 ' - . U. --,

          
   
    
     
     

i
.i,=r, ,A“ \

 

. it let
. I ,' ,1“, ""«>'

I

. THE HOUSEHOLD . ‘ 35'

 

hence are often overlooked as precursors

of insanity. Another prior symptom,
which continues as a serious symptom of
the disease, is headache, either a dull,

aching sensation or an acute pain, gener-

ally the former; a feeling as if a band
were drawn about the head, or a sehsa—
tion of pressure, as if the brain were too
large for the skull; a singing or roaring.
in the ears, a “feeling of excessive heat,

the sound of fallin g water or a frying or
crackling sound, in the head, are pre-
monitory indications. Two muscular
conditions result; either greater restless-

ness, or apathy, in which mental and
bodily action requires a strong effort of
the will.. A loss of control of the muscu-
lar movements, shown by twitchings or
jerkings, especially of the tongue, is often
an important indication. _

With these changes in the physical sys-
tem, there are necessarily associated dis-
turbances of the mental state, earliest
found, usually, in the emotions. The
emotional disturbance frequently takes
the form of a feeling of depression, a loss
of spirits, noticeable to friends and often
perceived by the individual; and the
despondency deepens till it becomes
settled melancholia. The mind is op
pressed with the idea of an indefinite, in-
deflnable evil impending; all the thoughts
are turned inward, _the individual judges
his own acts and pronounces an adverse
judgment. In the direction of depres-
sion and partaking the same general
character is the development of, scruples
of conscience, which ’sometimes lead to
self-accusations of sin and to an over-
weening zeal which terminates in what
we call religious insanity, or to the seiz-
ing upon some trifling act not partaking
of any moral element and raising it to a
position of vital importance. .

Insanity is sometimes so insidious in its
approach that it is not recognized till fully
established, or perhaps become chronic;
in which case there is generally an in-
tensification of natural characteristics.
Here it is often difllcult to distinguish in
such instances the changes wrought by
disease from capriciousne ss, eccentricity
and false views of life . ,

Our~ author considers. an insane man
simply as a sick man, one who by reason
of cerebral disease is unable to use his
brain—not a man with a mind diseased.
or mad—but with a mind acting through
a disordered organ, “a Spiritual being un-
touched by disease, looking through the
disordered and broken house in which he
dwells.” , -

The. lesson is obvious: First, since the
cause of insanity is the same, generally
speaking, as that of all-other diseases,
infraction of the rules of physical
health, it behooves us to respect these
laws and understand we cannot break
them without paying the full penalty,
which may extend not alone to the body
but to that which involves the higher life
of the individual. ' We should be cheer-
‘ful, exerting ourselves to that intent if
necessary. Keeping ourselves physically
healthy, we should banish all despondent
thoughts by a resolute effort of will, nor
permit ourselves to brood over troubles,

‘ .

    

losses or mistakes of our own or others.
We should not dwell upon our wrongs
nor foster a grievance, but strive to main-
tain that equable temper, indicative of
mental and physical health. I wish Ihad
space to pursue this subject more fully,
for in looking over what I have written I
find it a very incomplete 'abridgement,
much being necessarily left out which
would illustrate and explain.
, BEATRIX.
/ -——-——60.—-——
MILK . AS A DIET FOR. THE
‘ SICK.

 

Mrs.’ Scovil says in the Country Gentle—
man that in typhus and typhoid fevers
there is no good substitute for milk and
eggs. The diet in these diseases is very
important, as solid food should not be
given until convalescence is established.
The quantity of nutrition in beef tea and
meat juices is often overrated, and the
patient may die for want of nourishment.
Milk is a safe food, and will sustain life
for weeks alone. Mrs. Scovil gives a few
valuable hints on diet for the sick in
which milk largely enters:

“If coffee is permitted, it may be made
very strong, and diluted with boiling
milk, and tea can be prepared in the
same way. If chocolate, cocoa or broma
is liked, it may be made with two-thirds
milk and one-third water. if the pure
milk makes it'too rich. The juice of a
freshlemon can be used; if it is mixed
with a little sugar, and cold milk added
gradually, it will not curdle. This is par-
ticularly acceptable in scarlet fever.
When plain milk cannot be retained, add
four tablespoonfuls of lime water to every
pint. Lime water can be made at home
by pouring boilin water on unslaked
lime, letting it stan until it settles, and
then bottling the clear fluid. Milk that
has been boiled, and allowed to become
cold, is the best form for use in diarrhea,
as hot drinks aggravate the malady.
Sometimes for a change the milk may be
made into gruel, soft blanc mange or ice
cream. To make arrowroot gruel, take
one tablespoonful of arrowroot, rub it
smooth with a little cold milk, ‘ and stir
it into one pint of boiling milk; add a
pinch of salt, and grate in asmall quanti-
ty of nutmeg. Farina may be substituted
for the arrowroot, and flavored with
essence of lemon. For oatmeal gruel,
take three tablespoonfuls of fine oat-
meal, wet it with a little cold water, add
one pint of cold milk, and a little salt;
stir until it boils. Put it where- it will
boil gently for at least two hours; if it
becomes too thick, thin with a little
boiling milk. A large dessertspoonful of
liquid rennet, stirred into a pint ‘of milk
slightly warmed, will, when cold, make a
soft blancman e very easily swallowed.

The white 0 an egg is almost pure
albumen, and so a very important ad-
dition to the invalid’s diet list. Break
the whites of two eggs into a self sealing
jar; add apint of milk. and screw the top
on tightly;shake the jar until the con-
tents are thoroughly mixed. and then
give cold. This is far superior to plain
milk as a fever food, and, if well shaken,
the presence of the egg cannot be de
tected. ‘ A whole egg. w-ell beaten, can
be taken in a glass of milk. Rub smooth
a tablespoonful of cornstarch with cold
milk; have ready a pint of boiling milk,
and one egg slightly beaten; put a few
spoonfuls of the hot milk into the bowl
with the egg, and it will not curdle; add
this to the boiling milk, with afew grains
of salt, any flavoring desired, and the
cornstarch; let it .boil about three
minutes, stirring until done. For a dell-

 

cate custard, boil one pint . of milk with

\

 

one tablespoonful ‘of sugar and alittle
cinnamon, or any flavoring that is liked;
stir in two well beaten or gs; and remove
from the fire as soon as it thickens. A.
delicious ice-cream can be made with one
quart of milk, half a pint of cream, the
whites of three eggs 'beaten to a foam,
sugar and vanilla to taste. Boil the milk
and sugar; when cold, add the other in—
gredients; beat the mixture half an hour
before freezing it.”
—ooo——-

SUGGESTIONS. ‘

 

I saw in the window one day two
heliotropes, one just blossoming. I
stooped to breathe the fragrance of its
rich, purple bloom, but it was scentless.
Surprised, I turned to the other, which
had lost nearly all its beauty. The per-
foot color had faded, the blossoms were
falling, yet its perfume was wonderful.

In the sweetness of that fading flower
I felt the touch of one of life’s saddest,
deepest lessons. How often we prove
the things deemed most fair are not richest
in fruition, nor most gratifying to true

perception of the really be autiful! What-

is it which most deeply teaches us? It is
the real, the true. Yet we strive . to
gather life’s fragrance from the seeming,
judging often that which teaches most
deeply as useless, painful, and even
harmful.

Sometimes in life comes there not a day
so peaceful in rest, so rich in content,
and calm in love, you wish it might linger
in its majestic fullness? It seems to you
complete in its measure of joy. But the
hungerings of life are many. We search
through the suffering door of our needs.
Life‘s cup is sometimes shining, some-
times shadow-filled. The hours in life
which bless us,—ahl little we know, illy
could we choose which they shall be!
Those hours glad with song, beautiful
with loving trust, when sweet words fall
like tender music on happy, listening
ears,—these you do not doubt. But
when, in the darkness, you‘ touch the
chill hand of Death, you shrink and
shudder; yet sometime you will know
that this hour also was blessed.

You question not when warm, clinging
hands caress your 0 vn; when the joyous
current of your life mingles with that of
one you call your own, you know there
is joy-in possession. But when the sea
of silence lies about you, have these lone
hours a‘ blessing? Do you find ‘the soul
of things sweet, the heart of being celes-
tial rest?’ When you shall have learned
that absence does not mean loneliness,
that silence is not sep'aration, that love is
an eternal principle, an overshadowing
presence like the uplifted sky, you will
prove these hours also calmly, deeply,
blessed you.

Rocxronn, Ill. “3. M. G."

E—‘..———_

KNITTED , GLOVES.

“Daisy Eyebright,” in the Country
Gentleman. gives the following directions
for knitting gloves, which our knitters
will find very plain. These gloves are
very warm and nice: ;

“ Cast on 73 stitches (24 on each needle)

with two ounces of three-ply wool--
Saxony, Columbia or Starlight—and take

          

‘ aw ‘ W. . .,W:.~'az«n-w~n‘>‘9"i‘¥1“~"4m“*""" " ' W” "


 

‘1

THE HOUSEHOLDL

 
 

 

No. 16 steel needles. Knit around once
plain; then knit forty rounds, two plain,
two purl, or one plain, two purl. After
this, knit six rounds plain. Now begin
the thumb.

“At beginning of first needle, throw
wool over needle, and knit three; throw
wool over, and knit around plain; knit
two rounds plain. Next row, throw wool
over, knit five plain, wool over. knit
round plain. Knit two more rounds
_ plain, and‘then knit in the same way un-
til you have 33 stitches between the
widenings. Knit six rounds plain; slip
the 35 stitches which form the thumb
upon a thread. and cast on nine stitches
upon the needle in place of those slipped
off, and knit round plain; the next round
also plain. Then narrow twice on the
nine extra. stitches, leaving one on each
side of the nine before narrowing. Nar-
row alternate rows in same place until
all are narrowed off, and 72 stitches re-
main. Knit round 20 times. Now begin
the fingers.

“First finger.-—-Take 10 stitches from
the first needle and 10 from the last, and
slip the remaining stitches upon a thread.
Knit the 20 stitches, then cast nine more
upon a third needle, and knit \round and
round until up to the lastjoint of the first
finger. Narrow off quickly by knitting
two and narrowing, and repeat round
the finger. Knit two rounds plain.
Third round—Knit one, narrow and re—
peat; one round plain. Then narrow
every. time until none remains. Cut off,
with wool enough left to fasten it tightly.

“Second finger.—Take nine stitches
from the back and nine from the front,
picking up the stitches of the previous
nine, and making nine more on opposite
side. Arrange the stitches on three
needles, and knit round once. In alter-
nate rounds, narrow the first two stitches
and the last two of the side gores, and
knit one round plain, until only 29
stitches remain. Knit it to fit the middle
finger, and narrow as before.

“Third finger—Is knitted just like the
second.

~ “For the fourth finger, but, 16 stitches
are left. Pick up the nine on the gore,
and knit like the last two, casting on no
more stitches.

“For the thumb, take the 35 stitches
which were made, and pick up nine on
the gore, and narrow off every other
'time on each side of the gore, until the
original 35 stitches remain.’ Then knit.
nearly to the length of the thumb, and
narrow of! like middle finger.”

 

HOUSEHOLD - HINTS.

 

Tau Dakota Farmer gives a new way to
take fruit stains out of table linen. Let '
the spotted part of the cloth imbibe a

' little water without dipping it, and hold
the part over two or three lighted brim-
stone matches at a proper distance. - The

_. sulphurous gas which is discharged soon

causes the spots to disappear. '

 

‘ CLEAN your silver with powdered whit-
ing moistened with a little hot water. Let
it dry on, then polish with a dry Chamois-
skin. If there is intricate work or deep
engraving, use a small, soft tooth-brush.
Whiting forms the .basis of the various
preparations for cleaning silver sold by
jewelers; and is cheaper purchased in
bulk at the drug stores.

 

IN refering to a recent lamp explosion
caused probably by filling the lamp too
full of cold oil and placing it in a heated
room, or by a old and dirty burner, an
bil inspectorsays: “ If all who burn kero~

’and either embroider in outline stitch

once a month boil their kerosene burners
a few minutes in soap suds,.a much great
er light would be received from the same
quantity of oil used, and accidents of the
kind referred to would be prevented.”

 

A WOOLEN blanket, worn so thin that it
is no longer of particular value as bed-
ing, may form the foundation for a very
neat and serviceable table-spread. Color
it dark red or blue, or indeed any color
which will harmonize with your furniture,

with silk or crewel, or cut figures from
cretonne and applique in place for a
border. The HOUSEHOLD Editor would
commend the Briggs transfer patterns
to those who cannot get stamping done
readily. Having used them often, we con-
sider them both cheap and convenient

the stamp does not readily blur in work-
ing and the “ transfer” is made by the mo-
mentary impress of a warm fiatiron.

THE “ kitchen smell” need not pervade
the house where the windows can be
lowered from the top. When you begin
to fry doughnuts, pancakes, or cook cab-
bage or anything else that gives off an'
odor, droprrtwo windows froni the top.
As soon as the food is cooked, open the
doors to change the air entirely. Carry
the kettle of smoking grease into the
open air to cool. If the odor penetrates
adjoining rooms, as it generally will,
open two doors or windows in line for a
few minutes, till fresh air replaces the
old. Most people are too much afraid of
cold to air their houses properly in
winter; and their rooms are redolent of
stale kitchen smells, which often cling to
their clothing as well. Fresh air costs
nothing, and we can use all we like of it.

 

.A CORRESPONDENT of the Ohio Farmer
says: _

“ A good andeasy way to try out lard
is to cut in small pieces and put abowl of
lard in bottom of pan or kettle, then add
the pieces to be tried, and put the kettle
over a slow fire and cook slowly. When
cooked sufiiciently dip off the lard and
strain, leaving the scraps or cracklings in
bottom of kettle. Add water to the
scraps, filling kettle half full, then let
scraps boil several hours; then strain into
a' pan or pail, allowing the scraps to drain.
In this way all the lard‘ is extracted and
there will be no troublesome squeezing
of cracklings in order to obtain all the
lard. When the water gets cold the lard
can be skimmed off and it will be found
ver white and pure. In fact, all the
lar will be improved by co king slowly.
Fast cooking renders the ard liable to

in home-rendered lard.”

WHEN a chamois skin becomes dirty,
it may be cleaned in the follbwing man—'
' ner: “ Make a_ solution of ' weak soda
and warm water, rub plenty of soft soap
into the leather and allow it to remain in
soak for two hours, then rub it well until
it is quite clean. Afterward rinse it well
in a weak solution composed of warm
water, soda and yellow soap. It must
not be rinsed in water only, for then it
would be so hard when dry as to be unfit
for use It is the small .quantity of soap

scorch, hence the dark color so often seen.

particles of the leather to separate and

become soft like silk. After rinsing
wring it well in a rough towel and dry
quickly, then pull it, about and brush it
well, and it will become softer and bet~
ter than most new leather.
————¢oo—-——

Mas. J..A. M. asks if any of our cooks
have tried rolling beefsteak in flour be-
fore putting it into hot drippings to fry,
saying it will make tough steak compar-
atively tender, as it retains the juices of
the meat. If Mrs. 'M. will broil her steak,
or if not convenient to do this, fry in a
hot pan, without dripping, turning fre-
quently to retain the juice of the meat, as
described in the article on cooking meats
in the HOUSEHOLD last September. she -
will find it; we believe. an improvement on
her plan. Mrs. M. says her fruit put up
by the cotton batting process is nice, and.
that she never had fruit keep better
though she has tried several processes.
——-—..*-————
IN making up files for the year 1885, our
readers will find two issues having the
date Sept. 29th, owing to an oversight in
not changing the date line in “making
up.” The issue eOntaining the poem
“ Nobility,” is thatpublished on Oct. 6th. .

---—-OOO-———

Contributed Recipes.

 

Boss GINGER Burs—One cup New Orleans
molasses; one cup sugar; one cup shortening;
one tablespoonful ginger“ Boil all together '
five minutes. When cold add one tablespoon-
ful of vinegar and one level tablespoonful of
soda, dissolved in six tablespoonfuls of water;
knead with flour until quite hard.
» Mas. F.

 

Raunnr r03 Caarrnn os Rouen SKIN.~
Sweet oil, . three ounces; spermaceti, four
ounces; camphor gum, pulverized, one
ounce. Mull slowly together, stirring fre-
quently until smooth, then cool and it is com.
plete.‘ '

RULE non SEASONING Sausaons. —-For forty
pounds of meat take one pound of. salt, of
black pepper, sage and cinnamon each one
ounce. Cut the meat into small pieces ready
for the cutter and sprinkle the seasoning
over; then mix well and when cut it is ready
for packing.

FnN'rON. MRS. M A. FULLER.

 

BaowN Burn—Put in a buttered dish,
first a layer of apple sauce sweetened withllight
brown sugar and sprinkled with bits of butter;
then a layer of cracker crumbs with a little
grated nutmeg; another layer of sauce, and
so on, ending with a layer of crumbs. Bake
and eat hot. ;~

Paacu Tar-rock PUDDING. —-Soak over night
a coffee cup full of tapioca. Make a layer
of sliced (or halved peaches) in a deep dish;
spread over this a covering of tapioca: upon
the tapioca sprinkle sugar thickly; repeat
until the dish is nearly full; add water and
bake. If served hot, use gauce, if cold, eat
with cream.

' —-——-—oo¢-————

Thou can’st not sea grass grow, how sharp so e'er
thou be;

Yet that the grass has grown thou very soon
cin’st see; .

So, though thou canist not see thy work now pros-
paring—no,

The print of every work "time without fail shall
show. ‘. -

 

 

~ sens would make and adhere to a rule to

left in the leather that allows the finer

.‘ ll

4 . —Wt¢domv of the

Brahmin. I
| f“ ‘ fl . i: , ,’ ~