,.".»“":u-“) , “~
. awrawhanss 4- .. .~

and.

'«w -

_. . led-«u mt“; ""71
hummus gawk»: 2“ M‘ (name-{u

flew

egfuv‘tv .

:6

   
  
  

.' <. ~ 3
\\\\i\\\\\\\\\

‘ xxx‘ixxmxxm‘xmijux

 
 
  
 

 
 
   

" " ,’ _
.2 :
g m, J'

’ '4 .. ii

’ /////

 
    
 

     

W

 

 

DETROIT, JULY 6, 1886.

 

 

THE HOU§EHOLD===Suppllemenm

 

 

ALWAYS A RIVER T0 GROSS.

 

There’s always a river to cross,
Always an effort to make,

If there’s anything good to win,
Any rich prize to take.

The rougher the way that we take.

The stouter the heart and the nerve;
The stones in our path we break,

But ne’er from our impulse swerve;

For the glory we hope to win,
Our labors we count no loss;
Never pause and murmur because
01‘ the river we have to cross.
n——————QoO————
The faults impressed on. thee too deep in child—
hood’s day ,
Will live to plague thee still, when long since put
away.
L0, in thy children there they mirrored rise to
view,
And there thy training hand must fight them down
anew. '
— Wisdom of the Brahmin .

_____...___
A DAY ON THE WATER.

There has been a long continued drought
n the region about “ Ingleside,” of late,
and longing for a damper atmosphere,
my better—half and myself went on board
on of the floating palaces of our beautiful
river, bound for Port Huron. It proved a
perfect day, calm, and just warm enough
to make the water coolness enjoyable.

Curiously enough, among all the mass
of humanity on board, we did not meet a
personal acquaintance, and took no pains
to get any knowledge; so like true lovers
we were all-in-all to each other. It was
pleasantly remindful of the times of the
honeymoon. -

The up—river trip has been too often
enjoyed and described to bear repetition,
so I will speak only of some personal
happenings. It had been sometime since
I had taken the trip, and the many salt-
blocks that had sprung into life from
Marine City to St. Clair, gave the river
bank a slight resemblance to the Saginaw.
We understand there is a movement on
foot looking to a system of sewerage for
Marine City, but its low site makes the
matter difficult, as there is but little fall
to secure drainage. At the Flats the new
club house, christened “Rushmere,” call-
ed for admiration, and we noticed that
the number of private houses in that
vicinity has greatly increased. The
Keweenaw is anchored near the Star Is—
land House. and is being converted into
a hotel. and promenades are being con—
structed for the pleasure of the guests.
This, we understood, is in the interest

of the Cole Grummond line of boats, as
the Star Line control the other hotel.

The call to dinner was welcome, as we
yhad discarded the traditional “lunch
basket,” and with appetite sharpened by
life on the wave, we were prepared to do
full justice to the toothsome dainties set
before us. Fish, cooked and eaten in the
air of its native element, seems to have a
flavor never known elsewhere.

We stayed but half an hour at Port
Huron, but as the “ day on the water”
was the attraction, the short stay was no
drawback to us. There was a large and
good—natured crowd on board, among
them a party, apparently relatives, num-
bering three generations, from the fair,
white-haired grandma. to the sweet,
dimpled grandchild, including aunts and
uncles, as well as mamma. I was re—
minded of the story of “The Child King,”
as the young miss, drawing a rocking
chair into a passage way, proceeded to
make herself comfortable, entirely ob-
livious oil grandma’s protests or mamma’s
gentle chiding. There were several par—
ties of two or three; one or two lone in-
dividuals who seemed “entirely sufficient
unto themselves,” one lady worked as—
siduously at knitting, not speaking to
any one, apparently wholly engrossed
with work; another was as sociable with
a book, yet I heard her acknowledge she
had “read it three times through,” and I
felt a little curious as to the title and au-
thorship.

An anecdote—well told—reached my
ears among scraps of conversation. It
related to ante—bellum days, and was lo-
cated at Atlanta. A good old church lady,
possessed of two slaves, died, and by her
will bequeathed “My man John and my
maid, Mary, to the Methodist Episcopal
Church of this place.” The slaves were
sold at auction, and the purchase price, a
good round sum. offered the church, but
as it was “blood money” it could not be
accepted, but a compromise was made by
placing it in the mission fund, to be used
for the conversion of the heathen. At
Marine City, on the return trip, some
parties essayed to put on board two
bovines, taken from a shed near the land-
ing. The first out was a muley, and as
stubborn as a mule. A rope was tied
about its neck, and on this two or three
men pulled; a slat was passed across be—
hind, and two men pulled or pushed on
this, while another put the animal’s tail
through queer contortions; yet progress
was slow and interrupted; sometimes the
animal was on its knees, with its nose

 

    

 

plowing the ground, sometimes on its
its side, at other times it turned with a
mad bawl on its tormentors, while a lady
on deck kept loudly exclaiming: “See
them pull that cow’s tail; see that man
twist that poor cow’s tail! they should be
arrested,” and as it happened to not be
that kind of bovine, the sensation on the
dock'had a small reproduction on deck.
The steer finally broke loose from its
persecutors, and fled up the street, fol-
lowed by a regular rabble, but was finally
captured, and, entirely overpowered, led
in unwilling captivity on board, where
the other, whose propensity to headlong
plunges had been utilized to secure his
quick delivery on board, was already
placed. Their discontented lowings all
the way down, voiced their useless pro—
tests against man’s inhumanity.

It was a most pleasant trip: no accident
marred enjoyment, and we reached De—
troit, and later Ingleside, with a host of
pleasant memories, with mind and body
invigorated by rest and change, and in a
spirit of thankfulness, I respond to our
Editor‘s summons and relate these adven-
tures to the HOUSEHOLD members “ right
away quick.” A. L. L.

Imamsmn.

 

OO—-—-—

HAPPY LIVES.

 

In Anti-Over’s letter a few weeks ago
he speaks of an error which is character-
istic of two thirds of the human race,
namely, untidiness, or the pro~
pensity some people have of leaving
things undone. We are all aware it is
easier to preach than to practice. Yet I
think we are too apt to criticize the man
who toes in, when in fact we run our own
boots over at the heel.

Anti-Over writes again on “Pleasant—
ness; to please.” We should all try to
please so far as lies in our power. A cer
tain degree of pleasantness is all right;
but we should have the satisfaction of
feeling a pleasure in trying to please.
But some carry this too far. I am re—
minded of the story of the boy and the
donkey; the boy, in trying to please
everybody, pleased neither himself nor
anybody else, and killed his donkey. But
all my argument, I fear, will hardly
change the view of the generality of man-
kind, and what would be gained if it did ?'
Man’s capacity for enjoyment is great,
but he never reaches the limit, because of
the disposition on his part to cherish the
thought that the future has still greater
joys in store for him; he is never satisfied
with his present condition, but believes

   

  


2 CPI-1E HOUSEHOLD'

 

 

 

 

to-morrow will find him . happier than
to-day. Shakespeare says: “ The web
of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and
ill together.” I think we may correct our
faults and become better and wiser, but
to attain the acme of perfection in this
world is one of the impossibilities. We
should use the talents with which we are
endowed, trying to make our lives useful
ones. The aimless existence of our profli—
gate neighbor should be a lesson to us:
teaching us that unhappiness lies in
wrong-doing, and that the secret of hap-
piness is a contented mind,. and a desire
to make others happy, with no selfish aim
in view, but an appreciation of the bless-
ings which have fallen to our lot, and a
firm faith and trust in the Creator of all
things. Could we each take this to our-
selves. and realize that it is better to
practice than to preach, there would be
fewer souls go into eternity unprepared
for the great end of man. We should
never coax up future trials to be borne at
the present time, but live our trials as we
exert our faith, a day at a time; remem—
bering that each day makes us stronger
and better acquainted with the world.
It takes a lifetime of dlsappointed hopes
and trials to make us feebly understand
that it is wisest and best to accept life as
it is; for life is filled with trouble, and
we must hear our share with the best pos-
sible grace we can.

 

OLD HUNDRED.

———-——+O.————

A CONCERT.

 

A much desired pleasure came within
my reach on the evening of June 2lst. It
was the opportunity to listen to the Fisk
Jubilee Singers in one of their famous
concerts. In the event all my pleased an~
ticipations were more than realized, inas
much as the melody of these sable sing-
ers, in its subtile sympathies possessed
for me a revelatory power.

The opening piece was “ Steal Away to
Jesus,” closing with the Lord’s Prayer. I
have heard singing of all sorts, good, bad
and indifferent, except this sort. This
was something the like of which I had
never heard, and yet, as they sung and
sung, it grew familiar; I had heard some-
thing like it, but where? Suddenly, as
they sang with indescribable truth and
tenderness, “ Nobody Knows the Trouble
I See but Jesus,” I heard the running wa-
ter, the whispering leaves and the tender
voices in the air in my “Home-in-the—
Hills ” singing these same words, just as
they used t) sing them to me, when I
knew not the words they said, but only

. the peace and rest they breathed into my
tired heart and troubled brain. And
egan when they sang “We Shall Walk
Through the Valley and the Shadow of
Death,” I was back in my “Home-in-the—
Hills.” from which so many of my loved
ones have gone forth from mortal sight,
far into the shadows of the “ valley,” and
I realized as never before how far my
faith carried me with them, and how
“ Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort”
those who survive and sorrow, as well as
those who pass on with the great for-
ever. The simple words “1’ve been re-

Lamb,” were combined into a wonderful-
ly thrilling fugue chorus which was sung
as an accompaniment to the old familiar
hymn “ There is a Fountain Filled with
Blood.” Then there was the closing,
“Swing Low, Sweet Chariot." I cannot
describe it, but I was more than charmed
by it. There is a rich naturalness, an
eloquence of sympathetic imagination, a
tender fullness and liquidation of tone
and volume of voice that “white folks,"
if they possess, spoil with artistic foolery
and attempts to “show off.” But these
sang as—given a human soul and the
power of speech—the birds, the waters
'and the woods would sing; and hence-
forth I am the friend and champion of
the downtrodden race. I can’t help smil-
ing within myself as I note with what
different feelings I now look upon the
sable faces as they pass and re-pass in the
streets of the city. They always before
seemed to me as a something entirely or
that ought to be entirely distinct and
separate from ourselves. But the chords
of the great kinship of humanity are
struck at last by the wonderful charm of
their singing, and I know that in the
brotherhood of man, God counts a black
man or woman for just as much as He
counts a white one.

A couple of Sundays ago Gentle and I
went into the colored Sabbath School.
There were forty or fifty little girls and
boys, a few young women, the pastor and
his wife, and the superintendent, but not a
teacher. The young men were out of doors,
lounging around on the fences and the
grass, and the parents, where were they?
And I thought if here in this ambitious,
lively Northern city. these people cannot
more thoroughly rouse to do for them—
selves, what must it be to raise them to
the level of self dependence in the South,
where the very air they breathe is filled
with germs of the idea of negro irrespon—,
sibility? E. L. NYE.

FLINT.
WASHING MADE EASY.

I have recently tried a method of wash-
ing which I find greatly lightens the
labor and robs “ blue Monday ” of half its
terrors. It is as follows: Put the clothes
to soak in cold water the night before
wash-day. In the morning attach the
wringer to the tub and wring them out.
Cut up one bar of soap and dissolve it in
hot water; when dissolved stir in one
heaping tablespoonful of pulverized borax
and three tablespoonfuls of kerosene;
then add three pails of cold water. Put
this into the boiler, and put in as many
of the soaked clothes as the boiler will
hold. Let them boil twenty minutes,
stirring occasionally. Take them out in
to a tub of water, and if there are
“streaks ” on bands, etc., rub them a lit—
tle on the wash-board, wring and put
through the bluing water. The clothe
will come out beautifully white and
clean.

I have tried this till I am convinced it
is the way to wash. It entirely does away
with the hard work at the wash-board, as
only the very worst stains will need a

 

deemed, been washed in the blood of the

    

you have more than one boilerful of

clothes, put the rest in after the first have

been taken out, without adding more wa-

ter—though if you like you can keep out
a half-pailful of the preparation for the
second boilerful—eand boil twenty min-
utes. The first rinsing water is just the
thing to use for washing flannels and
calico. There is nothing in the ingredi-
ents that can possibly injure the clothes.
and the kerosene odor is entirely dissipat-
ed during the drying.

I should like to have the readers of the
HOUSEHOLD try this method and see if
they do not find it a great saving of labor,
while giving just as clean and whiter
clothes than by the old “elbow—grease ”

process at the wash—board.
E. S McL.
Dnrsorr.
+

EASTER IN BAVARIA.

 

I have promised myself the pleasure of
writing another letter for the HOUSEHOLD
these many days, but other things have
crowded upon me, and l have postponed
writing from time to time. There has
been so much to see during the Easter
holidays, that I have haunted the
churches, and have scarcely had time
to record my impressions, even, of all
the strange ceremonies which I have wit-
nessed.

On Palm Sunday it chanced that I was
out very early, and at half past seven
women were sitting at the doors of the
churches with baskets of catkins to sell;
these palms, as they are called here, were
in bunches bound together with bright
colored ribbons, or made into crosses
with gay colors intermingled: Bare—
headed young girls were already on their
way to church to take communion for
the first time, carrying these feathery
bouquets; they were dressed in fresh new
black gowns, and wore only light. White
shawls about their shoulders, although
the morning air was quite sharp and
cool.

Good Friday, Holy Saturday and Easter
are celebrated with almost as much pomp
and show by the Protestants of these
Catholic countries as by the Catholics.
Good Friday is the greatest church day
of the year among the former; they are
at the services all day. Indeed, it is
hard to tell sometimes where the boun-
dary line between these denominations,
so widely separated at home, is to be
drawn, for they seem to dovetail won-
derfully here. One sees in the Protestant
churches crosses; pictures of the Savior
and the Virgin Mary with lights burning
about them are part of the altar decora-
tions as much as in the cathedrals. In
some cantons of Switzerland the two
religious bodies even worship in the same
church. Marriage is very common between
persons holding different sentiments of
religion, and among all people great
tolerance is manfesied in religious mat—
ters.

On Good Friday I went to the Hof-
capellc to hear the music, which is al-
ways very fine, some of the singers being
from the Court theatre, and from there

 

rub after the twenty minutes’ boiling. If

into a little chapel in another part of the

  

. f
'C,
v
i.
E.
3.
.
’ ~.
L‘-
kt;

 

 

  

  
    

adrbfidfi'flflhQ

H-

Pb‘mflu


  
      
     
     
  
   
   
   
   
   

 

 
   

 

THE HOUSEHOLD

    

 

 

rpalace, where underneath the flower-
-decked altar was a tomb, and in it a
figure representing Christ. The whole
end of the chapel was filled with ferns,
palms and beautiful flowers, while at
each end of the tomb two soldiers,
handsomely uniformed, stood on guard.
As we came out a procession of priests
filed under the arches of the palace, they
were dressed in long gowns of sackcloth
and bore platforms on which were rude
modern figures, the first the Virgin Mary,
dressed in a black, circular cloak of cheap
velvet trimmed in narrow white lace
and carrying, I observed, an embroidered
pocket handkerchief. The next figures
were Christ on the cross, Christ with the
crown of thorns on his head and Peter
denying his Lord and Master, at his feet
areal cock, stuffed, one must suppose.
Following the figures came more priests
with banners, and then a rabble of com—
mon people chanting. 'When some of
them reached the end of their doleful
refrain, others took it up, and the rough
voices of men joined with the quavering
ones of bent and toothless old crones
and the piping sounds from the throats
of children. Just as all came under the
archway, into the gloomy and narrow
passages, a drizzling rain began to fall,
which gave the last touch of dreariness
to the weird scene which had lacked
every element of solemnity, for the par-
ticipants and surroundings were so rude
and commonplace, I was glad to turn
away from it and go to the beautiful
church, the Basilica, which King Ludwig
I. left as a monument to his devotion to
the Catholic faith, and which has been
characterized by some one as a good set
off against the illiberal side of his nature.
The people of his capital can well forgive
him for any intolerance he may have ex—
hibited, since the sincerity of his belief
has been embodied in this beautiful
building. I walked close up in front of
the altar to see the arrangement of the
flowers. A oval bed of azaleas rimmed
round with green, was in front of the
tomb, before it the kneeling figure of a
little girl in black, and on either side two
priests. White, pink and red azaleas
filled the space at each end of the altar,
which was decorated with hyacinths,
tulips and many other flowers, set off by
the lighted candles. There seemed to be
some unusual attraction in one corner of
the church, so I pressed through the
crowd to this quarter to see what it might
be, and satisfied my curiosity by the sight
of women bending over a small wooden
figure of Christ on a cross; this lay on a
black-covered cushion, and they were
kissing each in turn the breast and the
rudely painted, blood-marked hands and
feet. Most of them were of the poorest
class, but some very well dressed and in-
telligent faces. One woman lifted up
two little children to go, through the
same performance. One must believe
in the sincerity and devoutness of the
masses from their reverential air and
absorption in all the services, however
superstitious many of them may be and
however insincere the priests who foster
this.system. By and by the music be-

 

 

gan; the Basilica is a grand edifice, built
in the Byzantine style of architecture,
and the music is impressive as it rises
and falls, spreading through the vast
arched space, coming at first apparently
from far away, then nearing, swelling
with the burden of lament, and dying
away again in awail of sorrow for the
entombed Christ.

The climax of religious feeling is
reached on Saturday evening and it is
even said that in some of the churches
the buried Christ .is raised in memory of
the real resurrection which occurred so
many hundreds of years ago. I saw
nothing of this, but went to the
Franenkirche, one of the oldest churches
of the city, to witness the procession and
hear the music. We waited a long time;
nearly all the people remained standing,
telling their heads and pattering prayers
as fast as possible; they seemed rapt in
admiration before the decorations of the
altar, about which a large space was en-
closed with black cloth trimmed in gold;
this heightened the brilliant effect of a
round disc like asun with rays streaming
out from it, which with flowers and
lights made a beautiful and shining
center above the tomb. At last the chants
ing of the priests began in behind the
scenes somewhere, at the farther end of
the church, where was the principal
altar. What voices they have! Round
and resonant, the one who led the chant
could fill the entire place. Then the
procession formed, priests and church
servants in white carrying candles, higher
church dignitaries, cardinals in scarlet
robes and a bishop in his rich gold-em-
broidered dress and bishop’s cap; these
last were underneath a sort of canopy
borne by four priests; they took some-
thing very precious from off the high
altar, the host or consecrated mass, hear-
ing it beneath the canopy, swinging the
censer about it, and ringing a bell at in-
tervals, at which all the people, Prot-
estants as well as Catholics, crossed
themselves most devoutly, and many
bowed quite to the floor.

During some parts of the service a
fine military band played, and at the
close, when the priests returned to the
main altar, still chanting, the rich tones
of the organ rolled through the old
church, and the choir sang ajubilant song,
a pean of rejoicing that Christ the Lord
should so soon triumph over death and
burst the bars of the tomb. We came
out of Franenkirche just after seven,
and the soft, warm glow of sunset still
lighted up the little platz in front, and
touched with a tender grace the gray and
crumbling stones which are all about
the outside of the building, marking the
last resting places of devoted worship-
pers who have hundreds of years since
turned to dust in the vaults beneath.

During the month of May there are
services every night in the Catholic
churches at seven o’clock, beginning
with a procession on the first evening,
and closing in the same manner on the
last day of the month. The mellow
pealing of the bells—and I have never
heard anything like their soft melody in

 

  
 

America—calls all to join and at the
hour named the streets are filled with a
throng of the faithful. This devotion to
religious duty does not interfere with the
every day amusements of life, the visits
to the beer gardens, participation in the
horse-races and so on, for no pleasures
are taboed to the German by his religion,
and if he indulges too freely in those to
which the “flesh and devil” tempt us all
more or less, there is always, for the
Catholic at least, immunity at the
confessional. Many of the amusements,
so called, which people in the States who
still retain some of the Puritan notions
of our fathers, only indulge in with a
certi in shame-facedness and upon which
our ministers and most cultivated people
frown uncompromisingly, are national
sports here.

There is no ostracism from polite society
for gratification of a taste for drinking,
card-playing which is invariably gam-
bling, and horse-racing; the latter is im—
mediately under the patronage of the
reigning princes, who lend the eclat of
their presence. and add to the prizes by
donating to the fund of the racing as—
sociation. I do not know that all of
these things obtain a greater following
in consequence than among our own
people, but they are certainly practised
much more openly.

Coming down to the month of June
there is a considerable let-up from the
religious zeal of the Easter holidays and
the devoutness of the May services, yet
there are five holy-days in this month,
observed mostly, however by excursions
to the environs of the city, and to the beer
gardens. It is no wonder that the masses
of these people are poor, for they spend
half or two-thirds of their time in these
places, drinking up the mere pittance
they are able to earn. To be sure the
women have their children along, and
their knitting work; perhaps they could
do no more at home, but it always seems
as if their industry in the making of
stockings is out of all proportion to their
energy in any other housewifely ac—
complishment; but the beer drinking, the
clicking of the knitting needles, and the
baby-tending keep pace with each other
very well. Every afternoon the cafe of
the court garden is filled with the better
class of people, who sit chatting over
coffee, chocolate or ices; this is the only
out of door place in Munich that I know
of, where one can not get beer. The
cafe proper is under the arcades which
extend on two sides of the garden or
parks in front of the royal residence, the
fourth being bounded by a caserne or
military school. On certain days a
military band plays in the park at half
past five o’clock, when the elegant and
fashionable dames with their fair German
daughters, civilians, students, some of the
latter with their cheeks hideously scarred
in sabre conflicts, and all wearing comi-
cal blue and white or green caps quite
too small for their faces, and oflicers in
showily decorated uniforms turn out in a
sort of dress parade. Many of the last

named are handsome men with stately,
courtly manners; their glittering swords

  

     
  
  


 

3.4

. “Ewan-Eu ;ms.sr——;§7gx~:t_ m. ~ ..

 

4: THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

and spurs jingle and clatter as they walk
the graveled paths, or march slowly up
and down under the arcades; they are
proud of their fine persons, their gilded
trappings, and above all, of their German
army and German fatherland.

The rich and well dressed do not

monopolize these free afternoon con-

certs, for the benches scattered through
the garden are occupied by common peo-
ple and their children. Numbers of
maids roll clumsy cabs\ up and down,
each one capable of holding two or three
young Bavarians. The more aristocratic
little Germans of tender age are carried
in the arms of bonnes, who wear white
aprons and caps decorated with long
wide ribbons reaching to the bottom of
their gowns; while very tiny babies are
bound upon lace-covered pillows and
live in the parks in this sort of papoose
fashion, from spring until autumn drives
this people, so fond of an open air life,
indoors.

In writing of the merry, musical and
care-free existence in the gardens, one
must not forget to mention the dogs
which form an important feature; the
Germans are exceedingly fond of these
pets, and an ugly breed which they seem
to fancy especially, a sort of black and
tan variety, has a long body and short
crooked legs, fastened on to the former
after no particular fashion. When I first
saw one of these unfortunate looking
animals, I thought the poor brute had
met with some accident, and this horrid
deformity had been the result, but it
seems that the longer the body, the
shorter the legs and the more crooked,
the finer is the breed, and for dog fanciers
these are requisite points of beauty. An-
other sort very much liked is a white dog
of the skye type. Its naturally long,
silky hair is clipped close to the body;
only frills of it are left about the neck,
the legs near the feet, and a tuft on the
end of the tail which is long. This bit in
the rear looks like a wee feather duster,
and the little favorite switches it about
in the dust and gravel as he trots after
his stout mistress or dandy master.

Munich is altOgether charming at this
season of the year as a place of residence.
In the sun it is hot in the middle of the
day, but one can always be comfortable ‘
in the shade. and the nights are delight-
fully cool. The close, green turf of the
parks is starred with white daisies, and
the flower gardens are gay with brighter
and more showy blossoms, while the air
is sweet with the scent of the lilac, the
rose and white acacia, which we call
locust at home. A beautiful variety of
this, which I do not remember having
seen in America, is lemon-yellow in
color, and so profuse a blossomer that
the whole tree is one mass of the pale,

graceful, drooping clusters.

DELIA BENTON .
MUNICH. Bavaria.

M.—

FROM THE EMPIRE STATE.

 

Currants, cherries, strawberries and
raspberries are getting ripe, and I, for
one, am glad of it. I would say that we
think the‘best time for picking berries

i

 

is early in the morning, while the heaviest
of the dew is still on the bushes, and our
berries always keep just as well as though
they were picked in the hottest and driest
part of the day. Whether it is owing to
the picking or the putting up, I cannot
say.

Will some of the ladies please send di-
rections for knitting the “knife-pleated
edging,” also other knitted lace patterns?

If Violet, of Okemos, will try those
lace patterns again, she will find them
correct, as I have compared them With
the ones I copied from.

I send directions for knitted wheat-car
edge:

Cast on five stitches and knit across
plain.

1st row—Knit two, thread over, knit
one, thread over twice, purl two to-
gether. .

2nd row—O twice, p two together, k
four.
3rd row—K three, 0, k one, o twice,
purl two tOgether.

4th row—O twice, p two together, k

ve.
5th row—K four, 0, k one, o twice, purl
two together.
. 6th row—O twice, p two together, k
SIX.
7th row—K six, 0 twice, p two together.
8th row—Cast off three, k four.
Repeat from first row.
MOLLIE MOONSHINE’S SISTER.
HAMLIN, N. Y.

__..._—

HOUSEI-IOLD HINTS.

 

THE Popular Science News says: Any
one who has had the misfortune to injure
the coating of a rubber umbrella will be
glad to know that it is not without
remedy. A preparation of dammar
varnish and asphaltum in about equal
quantities, with a little turpentine, will
make an easily applied coating, which
makes the umbrella as goou as new again.
Spots on gossamer coats and cloaks can
be covered with this also. ’

 

INK which has been spilled on carpets
or woolen goods, should be attended to
while wet, if possible. Take clean blot~
ting paper or cotton batting and gently
sop up all the ink that has not soaked in.
Then pour sweet milk on the spot and
sponge it with fresh batting. It will
need to be renewed several times, using
fresh milk and batting each time. Do
not rub the spot, but sop it with care in
order not to spread the ink. After the
ink has disappeared, wash the spot with
clean water and dry with a cloth.

LAST summer a lady made inquiry
through the HOUSEHOLD relative to the
sanitary properties of fruit put up with
salicylic acid. An answer discouraging
its use was given. Now the municipal
government of Paris has officially pro—
hibited its use in any preparations of
food, on account of its deleterious pro-
perties, after acareful investigation by
scientific experts. All the “preserva-
tives” peddled to keep food for a length
of time are composed, wholly or in part,
of this acid, and should be avoided. It
is true that the portion eaten by any one
person, at one time, would be quite small,

 

but it is equally true that the continued
use might in time produce unfavorable
results. Anyway, when city authorities
are sufficiently impressed by the un»
healthfulness of any article of food to
interdict its use, one cannot err in avoid-
ing it. “Great bodies move slowly;”
municipalities do not overcome their
inertia till there is due occasion.

 

MIss Consort gives us some useful hints
on the keeping and care of vegetables af-
ter they are brought to the house. She
says that after they have been washed
and the decayed or bruised parts removed,
they will keep best in a cool, dark place,
wet enough to preserve their freshness
but not immersed in water. Put them in
water till they are fresh and crisp, and
then sprinkle freely, cover with wet cloth
and keep in the cellar or refrigerator. A
handful of coarse salt added to a pail or
tub of water lowers the temperature de~
cidedly and quickly revives wilted vege-
tables. With lettuce, parsley and celery
decay is hastened by leaving them a long
time in water. Root vegetables should
not be kept in water after they are fresh-
ened; the water becomes very offensive,
showing the effect it has.

—.——...—.__

Useful Recipes.

 

X. Y. Z., in a late issue, says she looked
through the HOUSEHOLDS for recipes for dis-
posing of the remnants of cold boiled ham,
but found none. We hasten to supply the
want, adding that any way given is excellent
for disposing of the small bits which will not
slice nicely. The “deviled ham” is much
relished in sandwiches for lunch or picnics,
by those whose tastes are not tutored in “strict
simplicity.”

DEVILED Ham—Chop very fine the bits of
ham, rejecting all that are hard, and having
one-quarter of it fat; chOp almost to a paste.
For a pint bowlful of this make a dressing of
one even tablespoonful of sugar; one even
teaspoonful of ground mustard; one saltspoon-
ml of cayenne pepper; one teacupful of good
vinegar. Mix the sugar, mustard and pepper,
add the vinegar, 3. little at a time, and stir
thoroughly into the ham. Cut bread quite
thin, butter lightly and spread with the deviled
ham. If you want it for a supper relish, pack
in a small mold. '

HAM OMELnTrn.—Beat the whites and yolks
of eight eggs separately till very light; then
beat together; add a small saltspoonful of salt
and a tablespoonful of cream. Heat a pan
containing a bit of butter the size of a walnut
quite hot, turn in the eggs, shake the pan
While the eggs are hardening, and just as you
turn one—half over the other, sprinkle with
chopped ham. Serve hot.

HAM TOAST.—Ch0p the ham, put in a pan
with a lump of butter and two eggs, well
beaten; add pepper to taste. When hot spread
on hot buttered toast.

HAM Pars—Mix two beaten eggs with a
half cupful of bread crumbs. Chop an equal
quantity of cold ham and mix well. Make in
small balls and fry in hot butter.

Hm LUNCH Loam—Chop bits of cold ham, ,

salt pork or corned beef, add crushed crackers
and two or three eggs, according to the quan-
tity of meat, with pepper and mustard if
you like—the two last to be used “ with dis-
cretion.” Pack into a deep basin, bake ten
minutes, and eat when cold.

”my, 193.3.»ng _ : ‘Hw‘ ,. .hr

a .4. he»... .
a m ,y‘ .. a» .